if you can't find light in the darkness be the light in the darkness
when the darkness comes keep an eye on the light - whatever that is for U no MATTER how far away it

TEN

years ago

John Patrick Shanley’s

play

 “Doubt: A ParABle”

was first produced.

The play takes place in

19

68

and one of the characters,

Father Brendan Flynn,

DeLivers a 'Beautiful' and NOT AT A.II 'funNY' NOW

BRONX sERMon

on the Destructiveness of gossip.

Although

the sermon

can be viewed

as sexist

I look at as a

RE-veal-ing

illustration

of gossip’s

power:

A woman was gossiping with a friend about a man she hardly knew-

I know none of you has ever done this-

and that night she had a dream.

A great hand appeared over her and pointed down at her.

She was immediately seized with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

The next day she went to confession.

She got the old parish priest,

Father O’Rourke,

and she told him the whole thing.

“Is gossiping a sin?”

she asked the old man.

“Was that the Hand of God Almighty pointing a finger down at me?

Should I be asking your absolution? Father tell, me, have I done something wrong?”

“Yes!”

Father O’Rourke answered her

in his strong Irish brogue.

“Yes,

you ignorant,

badly brought-up female!

You have borne false witness against your neighbor, you have played fast and loose with his reputation, and you should be heartily ashamed!”

So the woman

said she

was sorry and asked forgiveness.

“Not so fast!”

says O’Rourke.

“I want you to go home, take a pillow up on your roof, cut it open with a knife, and return here to me!”

So she went home, took a pillow from the bed, a knife from the drawer, took the fire escape to the roof,

and stabbed the pillow.

Then she went back to the old priest as instructed.

“Did you gut

the pillow

with the knife?” he says.

“Yes, Father.”

“And what was the result?”

“Feathers.”

“Feathers?”

he repeated.

“Feathers everywhere, Father!”

“Now I want you to go back and gather up every last feather that flew out on the wind!”

“Well,” she says,

“it can’t be DONe.

The wind took them all over.”

“And tHAT,”

said Father O’Rourke,

“is GOs$IP!”

they deserved better

we deserve better

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iu
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EAR

Into the distance, a ribbon of black 
Stretched to the point of no turning back 
A flight of fancy on a wind swept field 
Standing alone my senses reeled 
A fatal attraction is holding me fast 
How can I escape this irresistible grasp?

Can't keep my eyes from the circling sky 
Tongue-tied and twisted,

just an

earth-bound

misfit,

I

Ice is forming on the tips of my wings 
Unheeded warnings, I thought I thought of everything 
No navigator to find my way home 
Unladened, empty and turned to stone

A soul in tension that's learning to fly 
Condition grounded but determined to try 
Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies 
Tongue-tied and twisted, just an earth-bound misfit, I

Friction lock, set 
Mixtures, rich 
Propellers, fully forward 
Flaps, set - 10 degrees 
Engine gauges and suction, check

Above the planet on a wing and a prayer 
My grubby halo, a vapor trail in the empty air 
Across the clouds I see my shadow fly 
Out of the corner of my watering eye 
A dream unthreatened by the morning light 
Could blow this soul right through the roof of the night

There's no sensation to compare with this 
Suspended animation, a state of bliss 
Can't keep my mind from the circling sky 
Tongue-tied and twisted, just an earth-bound misfit, I


 

:David Jon Gilmour, Anthony Jon Moore, Jon Carin, Robert Alan Ezrin

 A Momentary Lapse of Reason