Subject: Re: Freidman |
From: Karen Lancaster <lancaster.karen@gmail.com> |
Date: 12/5/09, 09:14 |
To: Barrett Brown <barriticus@gmail.com> |
Each morning I would find myself sitting in the cab of an eighteen-wheeler with my co-workers. On one occasion, we were joined by this doughy, bearded, bespectacled, middle-aged white fellow who was technically employed by the church in an administrative capacity (maybe this doughy guy still works there, wouldn't want to insult him, too by IDing?) but who was on this day recruited to assist us in our grunt work, someone else having failed to show up that morning. The fellow's longterm plan was to start his own internet-based ministry. This, incidentally, is the longterm plan of about a sixth of all middle-aged Pentecostals. (Again, maybe delete this last sentence as it insults your dad's bosses current endeavors.)
A song came on the radio and this doughy fellow asked me who it was. I informed him that this was Led Zeppelin, and a secret smile flitted across the fellow's bearded, doughy face.
"Rock stars," he said, shaking his head but still smiling. "I call them Prophets of Baal, because they preach another way."
The doughy fellow was developing his own terminology in preparation for the ministry that he would someday found.