Author: B. K. Neifert

Mark 13:51Jesus saith unto them, Have ye understood all these things? They say unto him, Yea, Lord. 52Then said he unto them, Therefore every scribe which is instructed unto the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is an householder, which bringeth forth out of his treasure things new and old.

On Christmas and Easter and Other American Holidays

My brethren, understand that Christmas is a Christian holiday, and genetic fallacies don’t matter. I have read the Bible, and have taken explicit care to read Paul, who spent the entirety of his mission dispelling the kind of nonsense predominant among believers today, who wish to yoke themselves back to Judaism. It’s not productive, and is counter the will of God. What does it harm a man or child to celebrate Christmas? Nothing. What does it harm to fight against it? It helps suppress Christ and the truth, and makes the unbeliever resentful.



We’re also forbidden from observing the Law. We don’t have to anymore. We’re under a New Priesthood of Faith and not Works of the Law. So you Judaizers, by celebrating Passover, incur just as much wrath—if not far more—than my celebrating Christmas. You may also be forever marked by the Old Covenant if you practice it as your sacrifice, as certainly, Passover involved the sacrifice of the Passover lamb, who is Jesus; which, is why we celebrate Easter. We eat of the Passover at the Eucharist, and not on Passover anymore.



Do you let the uncircumcised eat at your seder? If not, you also incur strict wrath, as the circumcision is no longer in the flesh, but in Baptism. Repent.



With a change of Priesthood, comes a change in Law, for the priesthood being changed, it is necessary to change the law also.

Kitch

I feel like Nietzsche watching the horse get beat
As the sophistic professor explains why a heartfelt poem is bad.
He contrasts it with a cliche poem found on WordPress,
Over 10,000 times I've seen that tone...
Yet, the heartfelt expression of love...
That is bad.

As in to say, "Feel no good thing
"But suffer in this life.
"That is your portion;
"To have all joy removed
"And only filthy pain
"And even in your sex
"It is to be so... 
"All love gone, all peace...
"For it is kitsch."

Yet if I could bottle just one emotion
I'd bottle the poem he said was bad.
That's just me...
To me, that's deeper anyway
One who retained their joy in this horribly abusive world.

The World and Me

If I'm being honest--if that's you're real name--
If I were a musician every note I wrote would be called "Kitsch."
My melodies would be scorned, and my songs made a laughingstock.

If I were a cook, and cooked perfect dishes, with simple ingredients
Then the world would want complex ingredients, and dry morsels.

If I were an artist, if I painted Picasso, the world would want Rembrandt
And if I painted Rembrandt, the world would cry out for Picasso.

If I were a sculptor, and I sculpted David, the world would cry for Duchamp's Fountain.
If I were lazy, and wanted to hang a blanket drenched in menstrual blood, they'd cry for the Pieta.

If I were a singer, they'd want rap... and if a rapper, they'd want Sinatra's perfect chords.
If I were a grocer, whatever meat I was selling, they'd want whatever other brand there is.

If I like Raviolis, the world likes Rigatoni.
If I like the Eagles, the world likes the Cowboys.
If I like Romantic Poets, the world likes Postmodernist Poets.
If I like meat, the world likes bugs.
If I like milk, the world likes water.
If I liked water, the world would like milk, Romance Poets, Philadelphia Teams and a fat steak.
If I like Chess, the world will immediately hate my openings, and my theory, and anything I do.
If I play Sicilian, they'll play King's Gambit.
If I play a Benoni, they'll call it wrong.

If I do read Frankenstein and enjoy it... just watch what the world does to Mary Shelley.
If I find a single truth, the world cries it is foul.
If I say a single falsehood, it jumps upon my back, and sticks me with a Trident.

If I drove a forklift at a warehouse, no matter my ethics,
The world's would be the opposite's.

So, I choose Christ, knowing this is not my world
But yours. For, you'll be crowned.

John Woolman’s Dream

You work yourself to the bone
With the "Race of Ham" beside
Mining golden stones for Christian men.

Then they blaspheme Christ
And you set to His defense,
But they say, "Christ is a tyrant
"If His followers have placed us in these bonds."

In subconscious reverie
It can be seen, you will not stand
Christian men, like Beasts,
Who put their brothers into such misery.
For, why would good Christian men
Damn souls of the innocents in a living hell?

It is your own conscience accusing you
As mine does too, in this day.
We both have been at odds with
The Christmen of our day
For various reasons.
You for this, I for their gross lasciviousness.

The Plagiarism Expert

"This is a world of egregious wrongs,"
Said the expert on plagiarism,
Which a thousand have said before him.
Does he now fit the bill?
Do we now stop speaking,
Or incur debts?
What egregious wrong is there
Than the technocracy created
And the silence
Of this blatant absurdity?
Read T. S. Eliot my friend...
Understand communication happens
And all things will follow
Patterns, and similar things will be spoken.

The Battle

Upon the tor of the battlefield
Many a brat did lay,
The oes of many old mothers
Had the banshee keening this day.
The bard sings peace,
But the nations lay in the cwm
Which Christ laid the valleys
With the cromlechs fallen
From the welkin ringing above;
Blood, and hail, and fire mixed
With deadly batteries of sin...
The nations went to war that day
And bran was sifted in peace they say
Not a kernel fell from the bin.