A Great American Resurrection

Why is this night different from all other nights? Easter is a very special day for me. Jesus rolled a stone. Good Friday is coming. But not this week. Maybe not even next week, while the angel of death stalks the cloudy Nisan moonlit nights. Ramadan, as usual, rides quietly into town any old time of year, even when we don’t even know it. Wouldn’t it be great to have all the churches full? You’ll have packed churches all over our country. I think it’ll be a beautiful time.

The high priests and wizards throw their stones and cast their spells, the storyteller makes his choice but soon you will not hear his voice when the news cycle rolls out scores, stats, pontifications and predictions for the men in skinny ties. We all put the yeast in but on this night we eat only unleavened bread. Some rise, some fall, some roll into Fennario.

How long before the fever breaks, the bars open, the markets rise, the refugees get off the boat? Who pays the riot squad when info gluttony chokes the first world and the copay breaks the International Monetary Fund? Who? What? When? Where? Why? And how? One day, it’s like a miracle, it will disappear. If your mother says she loves you, check it out.

Power is a force to be reckoned with, or by. The trolls don’t sleep. They drink all day and they rock all night and it’s never a fair fight in the dawn’s early light…