Separation

I am a pilgrim and a stranger
travelin' through this wearisome land
I've got a home in that yonder city, good Lord
And it's not, not made by hand

I love this old hymn. As Christians we pay lip service to the concept. We develope catch phrase theology. Like drones we repeat, "In the World, but not Of the World". We repeat this while we mortgage our souls to buy a bigger house. While we take out loan after loan for new cars, new this, and new that.

We say this... While we send our children off to be raised by minimum-wage workers, who have no vested interest in their outcome.

Are you a stranger?

Seems to me... the World knows many of us quite well.

I hate new hymns. I hate them because invariably they relate Christ to Dr Phill. Then again... at the ripe old age of 31, I hate pretty much everything that's new. It all seems souless to me. Looking back... even at in my teens I didn't listen to new music. If it wasn't written in the 70's or early 80's you can bet that I really didn't think much of it. I preferred Led Zeplin to Nine Inch Nails. So much for blowing this all off as merely my growing old early.

As DrWho is fond of pointing out... I was born old. My body is just starting to catch up.

For the young, there is always a better way. There is always something new to try. It never occurs to them that millions have come before them, and millions have tried.

Of course... they're still young. Failure takes time.

There is a new song book in the pews at church... Contemporary crap... There's a 5 piece band... A drumset and base guitar... in church.

I'm gonna be a Southern Baptist before long.

The most infuriating thing about Time is it's wretched habit of marching on. Things change and change until that which we hold dear is hardly recognizable. Even as I know that the best years of my life lay before me... I view the future with barely concealed contempt.

One would think such a prevailing attitude would relate to my surroundings. After all... my feelings for Morgantown are well known and documented... but that's not it...

In the end I realize my contempt is not for Morgantown. Whenever I have relaxing thoughts... or peaceful dreams... they are always devoid of others beyond my family and close knit friends. In them I'm always off in the middle of no where... alone... or nearly so... happily apart from this wearisome land.

It's the World I hate... for its damnable existance.