The Refectory Manager

The refectory . . . A place to nourish the soul. A place to share the savory comestibles, the sweet confections, the salty condiments of the things that matter. A place to ruminate the cud of politics. A place to rant on the railings of religion. A place to arrange the flowers of sanguine beauty. A place to pause in the repose of shelter. Welcome, my friend. The Refectory Manager

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Location: College Place, Washington, United States

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Achan' for a Stoning

Such as it would seem to the casual observer. But just which of the stories I have been reading this past week is believable.

This past week has seen a circular firing squad on just who is to blame for bonuses. Those CEO bailout bonuses of the stench of obscenity. The epitome of capitalistic raping of the working class. But of course, it was all an essential part of some divine will . . . you know, how "he" helps those who help themselves. The religion of prosperity. Or is it the prosperity of a true religionist.

I managed to catch a few snippets on the teevee of the excoriation of AIG CEO Liddy. Heard a little more on the talking-head shows, and read a little more in the blogosphere. Seems nobody could be outraged enough. Even those who precipitated this catastrophic debacle were blustering the feigned rage.

And the way it seems to work, the "worse" the CEO is, the greater the reward. Apparently, it is the redefining of the American Way.

And then another story I was reading. Except this wasn't about any CEO screwing up. It was just a regular Joe. A grunt of some sort that was doing a little extra-curricular stuff in an organized massacre. Seems this guy got his mitts in the till so to speak. Helped himself to some proceeds. Maybe he thought they were some kind of bonus for himself. But then, when finally confronted, in front the Theocracy's human instrument of administration and his excoriating peers, he admitted that he "coveted them and took them." The plunder . . . a beautiful robe from Babylonia, 200 shekels of sliver and a wedge of gold. Couldn't be anywhere near 178 million or whatever the alleged atrocity was cited as being. But nevertheless, enough to nearly bring a nation down.

In America, and as some would insist it being a "Christianist" nation that has fallen short of both God's divine plan and that of the mischaracterized "Christianist" founding fathers, an old old story is sort of being replicated. In an America on the precipice of an economic suicide because of greed . . . and because of a system that "coveted them and took them." The "them," in this case, being the fake wealth of the speculation on intangible derivatives of the stuff of sheer greed. An America now in peril of economic survival.

Last week, it was the pious, the pompous, the sanctimonious hypocrites of a derelict U.S. Congress that were doing the excoriating . . . as if they were all innocent victims soiled in this hog-wallow of slop gone sour.

A few millennia ago it was Joshua who was doing the excoriating. That Joshua. The son of Nun Joshua. And oh so politely. "My son, give glory to the Lord, the God of Israel, and give him the praise." [I can just see Faux Noise just droolin' all over themselves, closing in on a tight shot of the squirming Achan. You can read the whole thing in the Bible, the Book of Joshua, chapters 6 and 7 for the story of the destruction of Jericho and the aftermath with Ai.] The story continues. In some civil way, Joshua, like an amiable old buffoon cajoles Achan, "Tell me what you have done; do not hide it from me."

And Achan replied, kind of like in feigned mocking wonder, just like toxic CEOs of today protesting their badness while justifying their ill-gotten gains, "It is true! I have sinned against the Lord, the God of Israel. This is what I have done: When I saw in the plunder a beautiful robe from Babylonia, two hundred shekels of sliver and a wedge of gold weighing fifty shekels, I coveted them and took them.. They are hidden in the ground inside my tent, with the silver underneath."

Achan was talking about the loot he stole from Jericho, after the walls fell down and they had massacred every living thing in the city with the exception of Rahab the prostitute and her family. And how his sin resulted in a debacle of a defeat for Israel when the next city, Ai, was to be sacked.

And unlike toxic CEO's of today, who can thumb their pimpled noses , and snort what's mine is mine, and what's yours is mine too, and haul their ill-gotten bountiful booty looty to unnumbered mail boxes in the Caymans, they have no fear of the fate of Achan.

Then Joshua, together with all Israel, took Achan son of Zerah, the silver, the robe, the gold wedge, his sons and daughters, his cattle, donkeys and sheep, his tent and all that he had, to the Valley of Achor. Joshua said. "Why have you brought this trouble on us? The Lord will bring trouble on you today."

Then all Israel stoned him, and after they had stoned the rest, they burned them. Over Achan they heaped up a large pile of rocks, which remains to this day.

According to some notorious loud-mouths from the religious right, it is those gays, those abortionists, those feminists that will bring American to its knees . . . God's punishment for certain.

It had to be "that beautiful robe from Babylonia."

An ancient nation of Israel brought to humiliation and defeat.

Achan just had to be gay. A beautiful robe. Why else, would the religionists of today argue, would God punish a whole nation with defeat . . . and execute the stoning of the perpetrator?

Stone the bastard. He coveted a beautiful robe.

And they did.

America . . . now at its knees. Perilously threatened.

Some would think that America's current situation is a divine punishment . . . those gays, those abortionists, those feminists.

So. Are those CEO's with their symbolic beautiful robes of privilege and their covetousness of silver shekels and gold wedges gay?

Apparently not.

For unlike poor Achan, they are rewarded. Some may be stoned . . . but it's not that kind of stoning.

And so one wonders just which of the stories I have been reading this past week is believable.

Such as it would seem to the casual observer.

You really can't tell just by looking.

The Refectory Manager

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