The Holy Order of Militia of Jesus found that the most effective way to guard their volatile religious compound from the National Guard was to first form a human chain, then hammer their enemies with homemade napalm to get the job done.

Question. Are the angels behind these kids good or bad angels? And what wrong things do YOU think are happening here?

“I’m old enough now,” cried Isobel one fateful day, “and Albert Glover over in Reedstown, he’s sayin’ he wants my hand in marriage.”

“Fine, I reckon,” muttered Pa, taking another swig out of his hooch jug. “Y’ain’t knocked up or nothin’, are yeh?”

“Supposin’ I was? But I ain’t.”

“Ain’t nothin’ new. Yer maw had you at 12, and lookin’ at you, I’d say you’re right for the marryin’.”

“Singles” night among the Mennonite social circle comprised of flirting over hymn books, coy compliments on the shoofly pie Dorcas made from her papa’s lard bucket, and hoping Jesus would play matchmaker. Deacon Skip, in the rocking chair, sat confidently, knowing that someone with glasses (Esther?) would be lucky in love.

He now appears to you in the guise of Ceiling Cat.

Sad dead nun ghost on TV!

Sad lady named Robinne with a spiky necklace!

Sad kid called Charité in front of a bunch of burning sacred hearts!

Sad lady in a veil with a bunch of sad-looking kids running away from something sad!

Sad French lady with a crucifix and something in French I can’t properly translate, which is sad!

“Jesus loves me, this I know. For the Bible tells me so.”

God heard this, rolled His eyes, and decided He needed a break from that crap. When were people going to come up with something better to listen to? And why couldn’t His white children find rhythm and soul at all? He’d have to go back to the drawing board.

Big John Hall. Not to be confused with Little John Hall, who was “Mr. Contralto” until he became “Miss Soprano.”