Friday, March 21, 2014

Rated R

As we galloped along in the cool, dim purple night air, the full moon was just beginning to rise above the tree tops.  The sound of the chain saw engines revving up had my heart pounding and the excitement was at a fever pitch.  I reigned my horse in and grabbed the saws away from the other two.  I was just an observer and did what I could do to help.  As we continued at a full run, they swung their arms in circles to get the blood circulating again.  The cramps in their hands was unbearable and to relieve it they flexed their fingers.  We were a long time on the hunt and the weight of the saws increased as time went by.
Yelling and laughing, they were hyped up on the chase.  For hours we had been on the smell and the  prey was getting close.  The black horse collapsed and went down with a sickening loud thud.  It's body, covered with thick white lather did not even attempt to get up.  The rider, high on meth, turned a flip and landed on his back.  He jumped up and began to run at full speed, grabbing the chain saw from my hand.  With a quick pull, he fired it up, raised it over his head and let out an evil, blood curdling yell.  It was all we could do on the horses to keep up with him,  Just ahead of us, he barreled into the cabin  The other rider jumped from the saddle and landed in the green stickers in the yard.  Only wearing white socks on his feet, the brambles cut into the bottom of his feet and blood poured out.  He looked down in surprise and willed himself not to feel the pain.
     There was no time for the man in the cabin to scream.  His upper body  was separated from his lower body.  Starting at the left shoulder the saw left out of the body on the right side of the belt line.  As the blood flowed out it covered the room, splashing into the attacker's face.  As the blood hit him, it brought him back to reality.  He stopped, listened to the music and looked at me with fear in his eyes.  Suddenly he fell dead.  The fall had torn his aorta, but the amount of meth he had taken, kept him going until he completed his task.
     As the one with the socks  entered the cabin, he saw his reflection in the mirror.  Instantly he was transfixed.  He dropped the saw and began to look for the pose that best suited him.  He stood in front of the mirror for a long while.  When he finished, he knew what he looked like from any angle.  I knew to leave him alone.  When he was ready, we would continue after the one that got away.  Some one would come along eventually to clean up this mess.
     The one we were after knew he had a little time to get ahead of us, however he knew he was doomed.  We never quit and he was well aware of that.  It was just a matter of time.  As he roared down the road in his 1957 four door Ford Fairlane he saw a parking lot full of cars and trucks.  Looked as if it were the perfect hiding place.  He parked and walked into what he thought was a mall.  Nothing could be farther from the truth.
     As soon as he walked through the door the smell hit him.  Bulls, excited by the cows had a strong smell of testosterone.  The cows in heat, all bunched together in in a small spot were giving off their aroma.  All this mixed with thousands of cattle inside a building excreting waste and urine.  This nearly knocked him off his feet.  As he regained his breath, he smiled.  With all this smell, it would be difficult for us to pick up his odor.
     The bulls were lined up awaiting their turn at the top of the Shute.  The supports were made of large timbers, tied together with ropes.  Four inch by twelve inch boards were bolted into the timbers.  This made for a strong breeding pen.  Each bull was lifted up by hydraulics until he could reach and penetrate the cow.  Then he would be lowered until the next cow could be loaded into place.  He would be raised again.  After a few times the bull would be backed out and another would take his place.
     The bull in line next was a black Angus, massive in size and had a nasty disposition.  When he was raised into place and made his move, a hush fell over the crowd.  The timbers began to swell and release.  The crowd began to breathe in slow unison.  The platform was swelling and releasing,  the timbers swelling and releasing faster and faster, the crowd breathing faster and faster.  The lights brightening and dimming.  Then for one brief second the lights went dark.  Liquid emotion shot out into the darkness and everyone went silent.  Cigarette smoke instantly filled the room.  When the lights came on everyone was limp and worn out.
     Always a jerk in every crowd, this fool had less sense than most.  As they were placing the next bull into position, just before his head was secured, the fool made his move.  I had seen it before, but it catches me by surprise every time.  He had a cattle prod in his hand. Before anyone could stop him he ran up behind the bull, penetrated   him with the prod and charged him up.  This bull was more massive than most and extremely excited.  When the charge hit him, he bellowed, stomped his feet and smoke blew out his nostrils.  His eyes turned red and he jumped clear of the pen.  As he  landed  he knocked spectators in every direction as if they were rag dolls. Pissed as he was he knew who and where his attacker was.  Nothing was going to stand between the two.  A few of the bulls were slow to get out of the way and paid a heavy price for that.  In the dim light, the dust being kicked up gave an eerie ghostly sheen on everything.  The fool knew that to be safe he had to get up high and fast.  Just as he reached for the ladder, he tripped on the purposely outstretched foot.  Before he could regain his footing the bull was upon him.  Stomping him with his front feet and then butting him with his head into the ground.  Just before the fool lost consciousness ,  the bull stopped.  He turned his head and his butt together, grabbed the prod with his teeth and pulled it out.  Then he deliberately and with much power turned back to the fool.  The fear in  the fool's  eyes struck a nerve with the bull.  Knowing he had won the battle he broke the wand and walked off with all the dignity he could muster.  Not knowing how he knew, he knew he would do it all over again.  Hell we all knew.
     Then we heard the music, looked over and spotted our prey.  It was not hard, he was stiff and erect, sitting in the middle of limp wasted people.  I heard the roar of the chain saw....

Friday, March 7, 2014

Sorry State of Affairs

Well, America how is that "Change You Can Believe In" working out?  I for one am sadly disappointed.  At the founding of our government in 1776, there were hidden angels of influence and common sense moving among those in authority.  They helped to form a Christian nation that was a light unto the world.  Over time our government , collectively, began to feel that it was omniscient. They hardened their hearts and minds to the influence of the angels of God.  Slowly the angels were pulled out and away from the government and left us to our own devices.  I feel that there is not one left in Washington today to try and help us.
     I do not presume to speak for God, but in my humble opinion, I think that he is more disappointed with us now, than he was with Sodom and Gomorrah.  It is a classic example of "You get what you wish for."  At least Jimmy Carter tried to rescue the hostages of Iran.  All this president can do is bully the American people.  With a Russian president that is perceived (wrongly) to wrestle bears, our leader, as Sarah Palin says, "puts on his mom jeans."  I admit that I am a white man that was born into a culture of discrimination in the south.  This has nothing to do with race.  I challenge any of you to find a people more hated and discriminated against than the Jewish people.  Yet I call a thirty three year old Jew that sits on the right hand of God, Lord and Savior.
     We, the American people, have stood by and allowed our freedoms to be taken away.  We have not responded for years of being called racists and bigots and it is time to change that.  Love the sinner and hate the sin.  Why should we give up our rights so that a small group can feel empowered?  This change can come by praying that the angels of influence be restored to our nation"s capital, and that prayer be reinstated in schools..