Sherardia arvensis - Bar Ditch Weed Plus Crumby on Rev. Wright

DY 2 is a bad year in many respects. The Kinglet, our precious Commander and Thief, loots the national treasury. The fascist noose tightens around Lady Freedom’s neck. Demand exceeds supply. Yet on the good side, here at the CB we have been little troubled by pesky weeds from foreign parts.

Oh sure, we have filled a couple of five gallon buckets full of pulled up bedstraw, rescuegrass and Japanese brome, but that is nothing compared to years past when we pulled up truckloads of the stuff. By the way, always put those weeds in the garbage can. They need to go to the dump. Otherwise your compost shall be full of them forevermore. Besides, everyone needs to use up everything, like garbage dump space, as fast as possible. Right now, you have as much right to pollute as a Republican. But that right is fixing to get taken away from you. So get your licks in while you can.

This featured weed. Sherardia arvensis, may now be almost global in distribution. Despite a probable global distribution, it is fairly inconspicuous until it forms up into a large colony and blooms. The depicted is part of a large colony habitating in the bar ditch. All of it is fixing to go to the dump.

As everyone knows, all the stuff you send to the dump, in a few thousand years, shall turn into jewels, precious metal artifacts and oil. Won’t that be a grand surprise! Our dopey descendants shall one day be digging around in the dump, only to discover all our trash metamorphosed into valuable commodities. Won’t they be surprised and happy!

Hold it! Here is my bosom companion, Crumby, arrived at the venue. Que paso, Crumby?

I am pissed off bosom companion Ray. As a defrocked minister I need to stick up for Reverend Wright.

Yeah but, Reverend Wright is disrespecting our candidate, Crumby.

Don’t matter Ray. I got to succor the Reverend.

All righty Crumby. Go ahead on if you must. Just remember, the Ark Druid may be watching.

All righty. This is the Crumby Ovate. No, I don’t necessarily believe AIDS is a biological weapon of the US guv. They would have tested it out on the troops first. No, I don’t believe Louis Ferrakhan (sic?) is a genius. Yes, I do believe the imperialist occupation of miserable Iraq seems like the same difference as terrorism. So that is one item out of three that Reverend Wright and I agree on. Probably, if I knew the sum total of Reverend Wright’s opinions, we would agree on an even higher percentage that 33%. Plus we could swap dumb parishioner jokes. And don’t forget the lady parishioners. We could agree on them.

Yet in all seriousness, no one should take preachers seriously. They are just for entertainment, like your favorite comedy shows. Especially, nobody should get mad at preachers for what they say. After all, preachers start out with a ridiculous premise, so whatever a preacher spouts is bound to get silly and sillier. Like there was this preacher who wanted to cure addictions, including the addiction to mean gossip. But first he had to identify which ones of his parishioners were mean gossipers so he could help Jesus save them. One Sunday between the benediction and the sermon, the preacher asked all the mean gossipers to hold up their hands. Nobody volunteered. Then the preacher allowed that anyone who was a mean gossiper, and did not hold up their hand, was fixing to burn in hell for all eternity unless they fessed up. Still no volunteers. So then the preacher began quoting all the mean gossip he had heard from various parishioners plus naming names. That started a buzz in the pews, but still, nobody fessed up.

Now it so happened that one of the parishioners at that church was a ventriloquist. Ventriloquists are well known as irreverent. And this particular ventriloquist only went to church for the entertainment. So this ventriloquist started throwing her voice. First, a deaf, dumb and blind gentleman in pew uno announced, The organist, old lady Hunsacker, is a mean gossip. For example, she told everyone my grandson had a hard on during his baptism and ejaculated in the font water. How can that be? He was only four years old.

Anon, another, and yet another parishioner miraculously spilled his or her guts about this or that mean gossiper of their acquaintance. Still, nobody fessed up. So the preacher got worked up and told them all he was fixing to pray to Jesus for all of them to see if he could keep them all out of Hades on account of their mean gossip. But if anyone wanted to come in and talk things over in private and pray to Jesus in private with just the preacher present to help, he, their preacher, would stay an hour after church to facilitate the mean gossip addiction private prayers.

Nobody showed up. But that’s OK. The preacher went fishing. See! It’s all entertainment. If the entertainment is not this good at your church, you should get a better church. Like Reverend Wright’s church, maybe.

Back to you, Ray.

That was really interesting Crumby. I never knew ventriloquists were church goers.

Not all of them Ray. Just some of them go.

Say Crumby, Do you know that tomorrow is the last day of Hope Remains the Season in these parts? Yepper. Tomorrow is May Day, the last day of spring. Then it's Beelzebubberific from here on out for weeks and weeks. Hot! Hot! Hot!

Yes Ray, I knew that. Plus a Shiite Militia in miserable Iraq has called a General Strike. Good. Maybe if none of the miserable Iraqi Shiites go to work, Chitlin's profits will drop so low we shall end the occupation. I may go on strike in sympathy.

You don't have a job, Crumby.

That's right, I don't. Dern it. I need to get a job so I can go on strike.