Chapter 122

1835 hours, local time,
Wednesday, 23 July, 2014
The Church of the New Covenant

“So, in laying my beloved, George, to rest, I would ask you to remember this about him. He was a hillbilly, too. He was one of us. He was one of you. He wasn’t just a charming, handsome, rich, and famous actor. He wasn’t just George Clooney. He was a Kentuckian. He was an American. And I believe that he would appreciate that this memorial service is being held in a small hick town in the backwoods of Appalachia. Sure, it’s West Virginia instead of Kentucky, but it’s still the same neighborhood.

“Goodbye, George. Remember me in the Beyond, just as I remember you on Earth. I know that your body isn’t here, but I am confident that your spirit must be,” Stacy finished her eulogy to her late, lamented boyfriend, the actor George Clooney.

“And he died with his boots on, fighting back,” I added, bringing tears to the eyes of all of my wives, but especially Stacy Keibler-Clarke.

“That he did. Trying to get back to me. I know it,” Stacy choked back more tears as she lay a white rose at his picture on the altar.

“Well, in his honor, of course, we shall have the funeral supper, the last dinner of our stay in Hinton. It is a fitting, if somber way to close this chapter of our lives, acknowledging how bittersweet it is to separate in this manner. Now, if you will depart with me to the reception, albeit to the tune of ‘Carmina Burana,’ a fittingly dark piece of music,” I announced, even as the lyrics and instrumentals were played over the speakers.

O Fortuna

O Fortuna,
velut luna
statu variabilis,
semper crescis
aut decrescis;
vita detestabilis
nunc obdurat
et tunc curat
ludo mentis aciem;
egestatem,
potestatem,
dissolvit ut glaciem.

Translated into English, of course, those lyrics meant as follows: O Fortune

O Fortune,
like the moon
you are changeable,
ever waxing
and waning;
hateful life
first oppresses
and then soothes
as fancy takes it;
poverty,
power,
it melts them like ice.

This dirge continued through all stanzas as we relocated to the dining area. In spite of this, most of us more than kept our appetites as we ate. We didn’t bother praying, because while Satan had already returned to Atlanta, God was still physically present with us and chowing down as well. He drank more than a little beer and whiskey with his supper, to. Then again, he was Irish.

“See, this would give the fundies apoplexy, watching the Almighty imbibe like this. Too bad for them, of course. They got it all wrong, didn’t they?” I chuckled while Robin sat on my lap.

“Disastrously, horribly wrong at that. It’s a good thing that Christianity is fading fast, as it deserves to do. That’s one religion that, while it won’t completely vanish any time soon, will be much reduced in its sway over the human race in the future. I have no doubt that history and posterity will approve of its decline. Islam, too, I should add, as well as Mormonism and others.