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Ed Hamell handles the Truth.
On the other hand, as full of it as not--that's why he's so special.
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Commandment Ten: You Can't Deal Bullshit
The knife of the best music that blasts from the transom of this Church slices through the crap we're deluged with on a daily, hourly, even minute-by-minute basis.
You bow your head, apply your shoulder, do your level best, but soon get to wondering, "Am I totally crazy for thinking (or feeling) this?" You look around, and don't see a damn soul complaining. Are you an alien, or do you just not get it?
You drag your carcass home, and slap something random on/into the stereo. A few minutes in, you hear those same alien thoughts hurled backatcha, at higher velocity, with sharper eloquence, higher volume, more enflamed passion.
You are not crazy.
This is the promise of the First Church, and one of the hardest for its flock to deliver. This is not to say that some bullshit doesn't have some truth value embedded (Tom Waits, John Lurie, Beck, Pavement might be some examples of this paradox), nor to say that a lot more might be enriched with fun value. What the Church does say is that, much more often than TV, much more directly than novels, and a helluva lot quicker and less complicatedly than films, its hymns deliver the goods necessary to stay sane and survive.
As with any font of noise, there's the process of weeding out to deal with. Lotsa forked tongues out there.
That's what we're here for, brothers and sisters. Stay tuned.
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