![]() Young people who beat their bodies into submission.Įvery soldier would take a bullet for his comrade at arms. This is the sound of the undergroundĪnd the army is discipl(in)ed. Instead they grin quietly upwards and hear the crowds chanting again and again:Īnd this is the sound of the underground. Such heroes are as radical on Monday morning as Sunday night. A million times a day its soldiers choose to lose that they might one day win the great ‘Well done’ of faithful sons and daughters. This is an army that will lay down its life for the cause. It loves people away from their suicide leaps, their Satan games. Light flickers from every secret motive, every private conversation. It scorns the good and strains for the best. It gave up the game of minimum integrity long ago to reach for the stars. It makes children laugh and adults angry. ![]() ![]() The vision is holiness that hurts the eyes. They are free yet they are slaves of the hurting and dirty and dying. People write their addresses in pencil and wonder at their strange existence. They are mobile like the wind, they belong to the nations. ![]() They know the meaning of the Matrix, the way the west was won. They could eat caviar on Monday and crusts on Tuesday. The vision is JESUS – obsessively, dangerously, undeniably Jesus. I open my mouth and words come out like this… “What’s the vision? What’s the big idea?”
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June 2023
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