Tag Archives: tyrant

Deceiver

Deceiver: (n) someone who leads you to believe something that is not true 

Sin is not as nasty when I do it.

It gains a certain reasonability that I fail to notice when it’s performed by others.

I am constantly confused because I feel compelled to mingle my intentions, my heart and my history in with my present batch of foolishness, to come up with a diluted conclusion, which is also quite deluded.

I knew her for eight years.

She was a beautiful human being.

For some reason, she decided to cast her lot with me. She believed in my music and she risked the disapproval of her friends and family, all in the pursuit of a dream.

And the dream was much more than dreamy.

There were actual points when the dream became a reality—but always with a cost:  a little piece of integrity and the necessity, at least in the moment, of becoming a deceiver, to maintain the probability.

She saw me lie.

No one ever really gets over that.

If I were able to lie to a stranger, I certainly could become more adept and learn to lie to her.

She saw me cheat.

She saw my verbosity cause me to become both a tyrant and a blow-hard.

There were many good times.

But mentioning the good times in the midst of recounting the actions of a deceiver is a rationalization—like trying to hold water in a paper bag.

I don’t know why she stayed for eight years.

She must have loved the hell out of me.

Unfortunately, enough hell remained that she was forced to depart.

Of course, she was no princess herself—or she would never have been able to stay with this deceiver.

I haven’t spoken to her in forty years.

It is a very good remedy for her soul.

Because even if she knew that I am now sorry to the point of vexation, it wouldn’t change the deception that tore at the fabric of our dream.

After all, when the deceiver finishes his day, he must return to his home, lay on his bed and wonder who deceived him.

 

Crowd

Crowd: (n) a large number of people

Buying a pair of shoes.

What is necessary for this task? Me, shoes and a good fit.

Like every human child born on the Earth, I have bought shoes because they looked good, hoping that I would be able to tolerate how they felt on my feet. It was always a huge mistake. No—shoes are about the fit.

Food.

It needs to taste good—and it needs to taste good to me. I always take into consideration whether it’s healthy or not—but only in determining how much of it to eat.

Car.

I want every car I own to do three things for me:

  1. Drive
  2. Be able to be maintained without developing terminal problems in its crankcase or transmission
  3. And finally, it should look decent enough that it’s at least ignored.

What do I look for in a friend?

Someone I can trust. Because I don’t know about you—I use my friends to help me learn how to become friendlier. So they’re going to find all my dumb spots, and I would rather they wouldn’t post these flaws on social media.

My passion? Maybe it’s my mission?

That thing that rings my bell.

I want to be able to do my thing without having people wonder why I’m not getting rich from it or haven’t received an award.

When I used to travel on the road, performing, the first question people asked after the show was how many people attended.

“How big was the crowd?”

When I told the truth, they would quietly back off—thinking it must not be that good, or more people would have been there.

We can’t judge our efforts by the crowd we draw.

If you think about the most important things you do in your life—parenting, being generous, lovemaking, praying, education, exercising—do any of those draw crowds? I don’t think so.

There will always be crowds.

There were crowds in the Coliseum to watch the animals rip apart the flesh of the early Christians.

There were huge crowds in Germany in 1935 to cheer for Chancellor Hitler.

Massive crowds of soldiers gathered on the battlefields in the Civil War, fighting to keep black people in slavery.

There have been crowds associated with every disaster.

Crowds for every tyrant.

Crowds for every fad that came along, and within a short period of time, found themselves embarrassed because they got so worked up over such a stupid idea.

Don’t look for the crowd. Look for the good cheer in your heart.

Don’t look for the crowd. Look for the benefit to humanity.

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

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Crouch

Crouch: (v) to stoop or bend low.

I’m going to do what I don’t normally do—but when I do it, I feel free to do it at will.

I’m going to abandon this definition and tell you a story about a man named Andre Crouch.

It’s spelled the same.

Many, many years ago, when the United States was recovering from a war and an egotistical President who was a tyrant, and crooked (pause)…

Hmm.

Anyway, it was a while back.

There was a young, black soul and Gospel singer named Andre Crouch who came on the scene for a season and did his part to open up the United States to racial harmony and integration—taking the land of Dixie and the world of Southern music, and twirling it on its head.

For these old church singers did not want to accept a black man into the inner circle (which could not be broken) but also could not deny that this gentleman was one helluva songwriter, and an even greater performer.

Arguably, it could be stated that he was the father, or at least uncle, of contemporary Christian music.

He was my friend.

I had a puny little group from Central Ohio. We were desperately seeking some attention from the marketplace when I met Andre Crouch. He did something he should never have done. He took us in—pale though we were—and allowed us to be the warmup group for his large concerts.

Even though he was gradually integrating, most of his audience was of a darker skin color. Why he thought he could get away with having a white warmup group when there were probably hundreds of black brothers and sisters in the audience who sang a “choir’s-full” better than us, is a mystery.

But it’s what Andre wanted to do—his way of integrating his race—by using us.

He was an unpredictable, never-on-time, kind, flakey and humorously fussy individual.

He helped me.

I got to see firsthand how an audience is to be gently handled—loved to life.

I got to climb onto his tour bus and drive around with him, seeking good barbecue in Toledo, Ohio. (We failed).

And I was shocked one Saturday morning when he arrived at a tiny gig I had—a breakfast for about forty people. Andre decided to drive up some 150 miles from Detroit, where he’d been in concert the night before, and surprise us.

Needless to say, that itsy-bitsy audience came alive once Mr. Crouch entered the room, and soon forgot I was even there once he walked over to my Wurlitzer electric piano and banged out some tunes.

Andre died several years ago.

But as is the case with all of us, he lives on because one of the people he loved and helped is here to tell a good story.

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

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Corsica

Corsica: (n) an island in the Mediterranean, Southeast of France.

I don’t know a lot about Corsica.

I am not going to insult you by looking up a few details and making it seem as if I’ve done an exhaustive study. After all, the purpose of these funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
essays is to give you my immediate, often ignorant, and sometimes humorous take on the words of the dictionary as they stumble out in order.

I know one thing about Corsica—it’s the birthplace of Napoleon.

I don’t know whether Corsica would advertise this. Napoleon is an enigma. If you study him as a general, a leader, or even as a French Emperor, he may be considered one of those overly zealous tyrants who come along every once in a while to shake things up and let us know that we need to be on the lookout for “rampagers.”

But in many ways, Napoleon Bonaparte was an Adolf Hitler without the compulsion to kill off Hebrews. He took advantage of the French Revolution, leaving the Francos trying to imitate the Americans, and ending up with a “spaghetti mess.”

He stepped in, established his authority, claimed himself to be the leader of the Holy Roman Empire incarnate and even took the crown from the hands of the priest who was trying to coronate him, and placed it upon his own head.

Thousands and thousands of people from Africa, to Asia and all across Europe were killed because of this man’s desire to conquer.

So intent was he on paying for his wars and ongoing struggle with the English, that he ended up selling the United States—from the Mississippi River all the way west to the Pacific Ocean, in a deal dubbed “the Louisiana Purchase.”

He sold it for pennies, even though it was not his land, and it belonged to countless tribes of Native Americans, who were not privy to the deal and received no remuneration.

But that was Napoleon.

I do believe, even though the average Corsican is probably willing to claim Napoleon as a son of their land, that the smart ones have discovered not to follow in his violent manner.


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Confusion

Confusion: (n) lack of understanding; uncertain, bewilderment.

People often get confused about confusion.

I suppose that’s because if you allow it to happen, it can be very confusing.

It occurs when we begin to believe that complicated answers are better than simple ones. We also start feeling there are questions that have no answer funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
whatsoever, and therefore the situations must be endured instead of conquered.

If you can convince someone that evil is powerful, ignorance is supreme, indifference is rampant, God is impotent and human beings are careless, then you can pretty well control the narrative and generate a climate of gloom and doom. Once you do this, it’s possible to control people simply by frightening them.

Yet, it’s difficult to scare people who have joy.

Fear is hard to promote among those involved in true love.

And terrorizing an individual who has faith is nearly impossible.

To create confusion, you must present a dilemma in which the problems seem insurmountable and the resources, limited.

Every dictator, tyrant, false teacher and unrighteous religion has maintained a following of human beings simply by convincing them that the problems are so immense that to continue to try to resolve them would only create more confusion.

If you want to save the world, simplify things.

And as you do, sprout a smile.

 

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Abrasive

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abrasive: (adj.): 1. a substance capable of polishing or cleaning a hard surface by rubbing or grinding. 2. rough to the ear; harsh 3. showing little concern for the feelings of others; harsh in mannerism.

“King George is a tyrant.” At one time that would have been an abrasive statement.

“Slaves should be free.”  If you had said that in Congress in 1851, you’d have been dubbed abrasive.

“I love rock and roll.” Try that one in 1961 America.

“The Vietnam War is criminal.” You would certainly have been considered abrasive in 1967.

“Black people should have the right to vote.” There are probably STILL some folks who think that’s abrasive.

“Women should be allowed to be executives in the workplace.” Once again, that one will polish a rough surface or two.

We throw words around like “abrasive” to discourage people from saying things “untoward” in mixed company.” (We say words like “untoward” when we have not yet arrived in this present century.)

Abrasive is a tough one. Often there are many things that need to be shared, pointed out and even shouted from the housetops, which are just NOT in the present mindset of the popular thinking. But if they’re not said, they can’t be heard and if they can’t be heard, the faith to change things for the better is never launched.

So how do I know when I’m abrasive? Honestly, that one’s pretty simple to me. If I’m saying something because I was personally offended or if I have a hankering to offend somebody else just for the hell of it, you can pretty well guarantee–it’s abrasive.

But words that are said to cry out for freedom, purpose and to protect the innocent may not always be received well, but historically, they will never be proclaimed abrasive.

Perhaps it would take an angel to discern all the subtleties in that process.

Perhaps we need a few more angels.