Dear,
Chris Lunsford

	You spoke everything I've wanted to. Your song was good, but your response, and rejecting 8 Million dollars is big to me. That gives me hope. We do need to get rid of our idolatry. The internet is like a parasite.
	Why did Rich Men North of Richmond become so incendiary? Therein lies the problem with our culture. There is no politics in your song. You lived through what I've seen. People struggling at Warehouses, making bare subsistence salaries.
	You didn't sell out, and neither will I. A simple audience for what I sell--as I'm not capable of doing what you do for a living, I'm too soft--is what I need. Don't take the money. It's a trap. But, seeing it divide, it gives me a prescient thought about how people are going to react when my writing becomes famous. I don't want fame like you have... I can already see the effect it has on you. Making you divisive, when you wrote a simple song, like Hank Williams Jr. or Johnny Cash. Now, even the Folk Tune is politically divisive, and I'm not sure I want that surrounding my work, either. As it's sure to be misunderstood. Subtlety is lost on this generation.
	Do I like your song? I have to admit it's decent. Does it capture my sentiment? Not as much as your response did, where you said we have to get back to God, and forsake our idolatry. I love you, Chris. You're my hero for the moment. Not for the song you wrote, but for your immaculate humility. I wish I had that humility. I don't know if I would reject an 8 Million Dollar Book Deal, either. Maybe I would if it meant corrupting the message I'm proclaiming.
	You have a friend in me, if you preserve on this path, Chris. But, if your situation improves because of your song, just remember Paul was a shepherd who earned his wages. Like me, you probably want a humble wage. You're satisfied. I don't want your fame. I don't want your fortune. But I do want you to know, I understand you. That kind of success damages the soul, and I know it from having seen it in others. Handle celebrity with grace, Chris. It's the one thing holding me back, is the knowledge of the corruptive powers of Fame and Fortune.
	God bless!

Anubis sits atop a vessel
In the pattern of the Ark of the Covenant.
How the LORD God freed Israel
From idolatry, and gave them a pure law.
For, instead of Anubis,
It is the Reign of God
Between the Cherubim.'
The Curtains of the Tabernacle
Cry out that Exodus was real.
So does the Ark of the Covenant.
So does all evidence prove the LORD Jehovah Jireh,

Fairest of them all,
Do you wish to cause my fall?
Enticed I am in your trap of flattery.
How I would love to be thy friend,
And walk through my paths until the end,
Yet for all you are is all I ever wanted,
You are more dangerous than a Bear or Bobcat
In the woods. The Bear shan't attack
Unless her cubs are disturbed,
And the Bobcat, so long as you nare
Turn your back, you shall be safe.

Our good Father is in heaven
With flaming blue eyes of fire,
And a burnished sienna
Skin, with white light as a vestment
Of purest hue, and wooly hair.
Behind him is a rainbow of
Emerald, and around him are
Twenty-four elders clothed in robes.
Before the throne are Cherubim;
Each with the face of a man, calf
(Which is a cherub's face) Lion
And Eagle, with omniscient eyes.

Fascists on the left of me
Fascists on the right...
QAnon and Antifa
Skull and Guy Fawkes Masks;
The SS thunderbolt and raised black fist.
The swastika and hammer and anvil.

Feudalism, feudalism, it rears its ugly head again.
But, remember my loves, when they pushed too far
The heads of the wicked did roll.

We don't want your reorganizations of society.
Just that Old Glory and Star Spangled Banner;
Our Halcyon memories, we want them for all
And all the new generations.

My good friend, 
My gentle friend,
My stalwart friend
During a time of trouble---

I ate a peach today
And its sweet savorty
Was on my breath like a
Candy, which lingered there long.

Just like the savorty
Of my Cinnamon and
Ginger with tomato
Basil and Oregano.
Just like the savorty
Of the Thyme and Tarragon
In my Chicken Noodle Soup;
Or the Gumbo I make
With the Mint, Tarragon
Bay Leaf, and Three Alarm
Pepper, honey and lime zest.

I was taught to enjoy this.

What I'm noticing
About most explanations
Of basic truths, is
That they don't figure in the
Equalities, just the shapes.

Maybe that's the fundamental flaw in
Our reasoning today, and why few
If any, actually know what is true?

Take one square and take
A line, and cut it down the
Middle. Then do it
Again perpendicular.
See each line segment's a half.

Then, note that the areas of two lines
Is equal to one fourth the square.

Then note 3+4=5 is not
True. But 9 + 16 = 25 is true.
Thus, by square rooting the variables
You incur the dimensions of one dimensional
Lines of a right Triangle.

Also, the quadratic equation reduces
Polynomials to one dimension. 
How? By intuiting the axiom of
Of a square or rectangle, by the three
Coefficients. So that the equation
Breaks down into length and width
And represented by the two factors.
Know that length and width breaks down
To one dimensional lines.
So also, negative and positive
Numbers square into the same numeral;
Thus, also into length and width.

Why P won't equal
NP, is that some NP
Cannot be a square.

I looked at the Pieta today,
And rather than be enthralled
By Mary's beauty, like usual,
Or seeing the chiseled perfection
Of its soft lines, and smooth and polished
Hems... I was disturbed and felt
Like I was seeing the world
There held by Mary in her optically
Illusive pose and stature.
There was something different.
It hit me, as gruesome,
And made me feel uncomfortable.
I saw God's wrath there
In Mary's arm, with the slain Christ
Gazed at by Mary's peaceful brow.
The wrath of God is satisfied;
For there it was, on Mary's lap
And it killed God.

You say I'm trying too hard
Get a job at a warehouse...
Maybe I am. But I'd suck
At stacking boxes, too.