In the fifth year of universal tolerance
(The year of our Lord twenty-thirty-six),
Mike the simple trucker man transgressed the law,
Yelling out instinctively, ‘Help me, Jesus!’
As he dove to the dirt to avoid being crushed
By a loose, rolling trailer. Brought before
The Human Resources Director, he was asked
To confirm his fidelity
To the Global Religious Creed,
That all beliefs are equally true.
‘No ma’am, I won’t,’ he said plainly, calmly,
To Director Strokeland. And she irately,
‘We will make you!’ She summoned Ari
From the Tech Department, tasking him
To construct a brain-machine interface
That would extract the right confession
From the mouth of the loathsome trucker.
But as he began to build his torture tool,
Mike began to pray: ‘Lord Jesus Christ,
Have mercy on me, a sinner.’
And, lo! The parts of the BMI
Would not stay joined, and Ari’s hands turned numb.
Frightened, he cried out, . . .
The rest is at https://www.newenglishreview.org/articles/mike-the-trucker/.
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Holy Ælfred the Great, King of England, South Patron, pray for us sinners at the Souð, unworthy though we are!
Anathema to the Union!
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