Coffee Percs

She held out a mug of coffee for him and then took a drink from her own. Curls of steam rose off the bitter brew, twisting like small ghosts. She stared at the black coffee like it was a mirror.”
                    –James Leonard  (The Sun Never Sets)

Pestilence is coming Pard.  No, don’t be a-lookin’ in yur cup, that’s pure delight.  I wouldn’t be givin’ yuh no poison to be drinkin’.  But Pard, yuh remember that thing they were callin’ COVID?  Say what yuh want about it, folks got scared, did crazy things, and many did die.  A forerunner of what is to come?  Could be, but it does show the state of people and the power of the government and the press.  Get them all a-frenzy, promise a solution and they’ll grasp for it.
     Yuh keep a-starin’ in yur cup.  Don’t be frettin’, go ahead an’ take a sip.  Ahhh, see it’s downright good.  But back to this year’s thought of pestilence.  I read that there’s a new screwworm workin’ its way towards Texas.  No, I’m not speakin’ of the liberal politicians though they have the same effect.  This new pestilence is supposed to be devastatin’ to wildlife, pets, livestock, and even human beans.  The symptoms are a stinkin’ bloody mess from the wound, and irritated behavior, head shakin’ and the like.  Hmmm, the more I think of it the more I see it already infectin’ us two-legged species.  My mercy, Pard!  Are those folks infected with a spiritual screwworm?  Look at ’em.  They have the symptoms.  What was it that ol’ John wrote in the Revelation.  “And I looked, and behold, a pale horse! And its rider’s name was Death, and Hades followed him. And they were given authority over a fourth of the earth, to kill with sword and with famine and with pestilence and by wild beasts of the earth.” (6:8, ESV)  Ol’ Miles Forrest said that he could at times smell the rider of the Pale Horse.  Take a whiff.  Listen, with all that poison bein’ spewed and the lies, don’t be surprised if’n yuh don’t start smellin’ the rider of the pale horse.  Pestilence is part of his arsenal.  Again, not to be alarmin’, but is this another wake up call?

     Pard, yuh don’t be drinkin’ none of the poison that’s bein’ offered yuh.  Don’t be a listenin’ to all them lies tryin’ to get yuh on their side.  Compromise has no place in our lives.  Pard, these left-wing folks are not a pretty blackbird, but a hideous buzzard ready to pluck out yur spiritual eyes.  Evil is out there to get yuh, to trick yuh, to connive yuh.  Look at them, listen to them–they spew the very vile from the pit.  Some of them are even tryin’ to take spiritual overtones, a sorta pseudo-Christianity.  Don’t be fooled by the sweetness that seems to come from their lips for in the end it will be worse than strychnine. 
     Hey Pard, what’s that smell?  No, it’s not yur armpit, it’s something far more sinister.  Is the Pale Rider mounted and ridin’ this way?  Pestilence, beware, watch who yuh bump into along the way, as they could infect yuh.  But ride tall in the saddle, be wary, and keep goin’ onward and upward.  
    Vaya con Dios.
  
P.S.  Don’t forget to check yur cinch.  That could be one of the ploys of the pestilence.