OK, so what if Chicken Little was right? Chicken Little is that bird who got hit on the head by a falling acorn and then ran around screaming "The sky is falling!" He got all his forest friends in an alarmist tizzy and, on their way to tell the king, they were summarily fooled and eaten by that Foxy Loxy.
One of the unexpected things I've caught since coming to Africa for the long haul is a certain disturbing feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's grown there quietly, feeding, I suspect, on the various foreign sights and sounds around here, especially those of the children.
I received an email the other day from a Christian in Ontario upset over, in his words, "the pantywaist liberalism" of his employer.
The spirit of the age is ambivalence, not skepticism, and into this comes a special time to worship.
Merry Christmas, don t get too busy, and remember: don t eat too many cookies, because you still have to get around next year.
Thanks for that gift from last year, the Gulliver's Travels book. Very nice choice. The Houyhnhnms, those horse-like characters, were so bright, so noble. And those savage Yahoos: so dim, so lost. Poor Gulliver couldn't see himself in them.
Dear Santa: Thanks for last year's gift, the Gulliver's Travels book. I enjoyed the Houyhnhnms, those horse-like characters. So bright. So noble. And those savage Yahoos. So dim. So lost. Poor Gulliver couldn't see himself in them. But Gulliver really was a traveller. Like you Santa. That's why I'm writing. Distribution problems down here are getting worse.
"Jesus Christ. Superstar. Do you believe what they say you are?" The jingle from the popular rock opera, Jesus Christ Superstar, catchy as it is, is an incredibly sad reminder that there are people who don't have an inkling of this season's joy.