If the movie 'Hoosiers' is basketball cult favorite, some people might get confused between Jasper and Hickory. . . Personally, I don't understand how a son could have so much confidence in his drunken father recovering in 1952 and my son having no confidence in me fighting back long and hard to recover from the damage his father did to me over the years.
When I think of Hickory, it's North Carolina where Shirley Brockenborough prepared to teach me some lessons in music by Handel. Instead of being 'home' now, I'm forced to go on a tougher offensive course, hopefully with the assistance of a wise attorney, against unkind neighbors who do not know how to limit public and semi-provate spending and who have imposed their religious practices in areas where it does not belong. When presentations are too 'one-sided', even the most peaceful angelic force rebels against the ungodly Christmas pushers.
When I was in high school, all types of music were mixed into our musical efforts, not just 'Christmas hype'. If a student really objected to the music they could drop out of a class easier than I can sell my house and relocate to try to avoid the anti-holy electric lighting attacks forced into my area without a good reason.
The 1952 Hickory, Indiana team did not seem anything like the 'Hickory Lion' costume that disgusting men such as Tom Brady have paraded around in, but of course I don't have all the information about the real 1952 Indiana Hoosiers. What I do know is that Shirley Brockenborough was neither a hypocrite nor a blasphemer when she picked out music for our high school choir, and that might be why even those who did not have enough faith to join the Bible Club did not to through music about 'God' out of our school system in the 1970's.
There is no Holy Spirit or even the spirit of the Mary, Joseph and the infant raised and destined to be slaughtered by the Romans that exists within the people who push their Santa Claus shows and excessive useless outdoor lighting into communities already struggling to get out of massive debt loads.
It is now 1000 days since the year I traveled to Keswick , Ontario and considered the role of a sorrowful mother. I no longer have any desire to see a group of entertainers such as the harlem Globetrotters use too many 'fake' names while it is difficult to get human lips to speak the truth to their attorneys, to judges to neighbors and to relatives. I can see a small glimmer of hope as I look at Lot 65 and see that this year, there is no image of Santa Claus on their lawn, only very useful landscaping and soil that I know has produced real vegetables for the family living there.
Oh, that I had wings and could fly away as a monarch butterfly or a thrasher to an area where natural trees are left natural.... but I know I still am trying to survive in order to prophesy in a version of 'the valley of the shadow of death' rather than be in an area alive and well with love of the Truth presented by prophets such as Amos, Jeremiah and Malachi.
I am sure the name Joseph Michael Nathan is much stronger than the name 'Zeus' or 'Beast' on the Globetrotters when it comes time to test '8' and 36 in numerology and chemistry theories. Too much laughter revolving around a '4 point' shot basketball game is as dangerous as not enough sorrow after unintentional sin, since sorrow is a prerequisite to genuine repentance.
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