Let Us Prey

We begin this week with a prayer: Dear Lorde®, help me understand why you allow such reckless ineptitude to run rampant on your beloved Mother Earth. What part of your all-knowingness has resulted in such abundant awfulness as neck tattoos, man buns, wine bars, adult coloring books, artisanal sandwich makers, celebrity carpenters, suburban educators, smart phone salesmen, musclebound Samoan screen curiosity Dwyane "Wade" Johnson, Citizen Climatologist™ Leonard DiCaprio and Reptilian News Chameleon (RNC) Shawn Hannity, to say nothing of every pale-faced adult with an opinion, a keyboard and an anonymous online handle? If we are all of us God’s children, Citizen Spirit Master™, upwards of sixty percent of your unhinged offspring could use a timeout, if not a proper jail sentence. Unfortunately, there are only so many tailgaters, philanderers, mommy bloggers, craft beer aficionados, ex-sister-in-laws, Match.com couples, and hero-worshipping professional golf fans I can cite with an e-warning, and carting every last bearded jackal on terra firma to the local jail house is sadly unworkable. If you could see your way to pinpointing a decimating “React Of God" — hurricane, wildfire, Imagine Dragons concert — upon those most deserving of your wrath, Oh Heavenly Avenger™, it might lighten this Internet Patrolman’s load and give me the strength to carry on. I fear the end of days approaching and ‘twill be worse than that bloody “End of Days” movie starring Governor Emeritus™ Arnold Schvartzen*gger, but until the last day arrives and this planet is justly sent up in flames, watch over us and do us a solid or something. I ask this in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghostly Roman Empire. Amen.