TRADITIONAL WORSHIP AT THE BARN
TRADITIONAL WORSHIP AT THE BARN
#WeaponizedHypnotism Hypnofiction
TRADITIONAL WORSHIP AT THE BARN
By tradition every Sunday the animals of the farm would go to the big white barn that was reserved for worship of their creator. Larry, the human, who lived on the farm with the animals also came.
He noticed over the years that the worship had degenerated to the point where it was no longer proper. Among other things, instead of worshiping God, the animals would also worship a molten golden calf.
Being the soft-spoken type he brought it to their attention by passing out hand written notes pointing out that these were the very heresies that brought judgment on the nation of Israel in the past and also that they should expect similar judgment unless they repented.
For weeks he did this. Then the weeks turned into years. But the animals never responded to his concerns. He felt like a voice crying in the wilderness.
A visiting friend asked him about it one day. Larry told him the story.
His friend, George, asked him, “What kinds of animals are these that go to the big white barn?” Larry said he did not really know.
His friend said, “Well, according to Jesus, if they were pigs they would become angry and turn to tear you to pieces. The Pharisees did that to Jesus. That is why he told us not to do that or if we did do it we should expect a similar reaction. So they are not swine.”
He pondered for a while. “Maybe they are dogs! Jesus said that if you gave what was holy to dogs that they would simply ignore you –not understanding the value of your wisdom.”
Larry said, “They don’t seem to be dogs. I would know the smell. Besides, dogs don’t go to white barns. They run around chasing squirrels and female dogs all day. They think going to the white barn is a waste of time.”
“So what are they?” George asked.
“I don’t know.” Larry replied helplessly. “But they do everything at the white barn. They even volunteer to teach the other animals before the big meeting. They can’t be bad. They may not be animals at all. They are well-dressed wearing suits and ties. And they speak perfect English.”
Far away, in a big glass 4-story barn in Tennessee the Secret Order of Illuminated Raccoons were having a meeting.
“Grand Cyclops of the White Barn Region, give your report to the council!” The Grand Pooh-Bah of the Raccoon Cult demanded.
The one-eyed raccoon at the end of the conference table stood up while the 40 other raccoons listened attentively.
“Grand Pooh-Bah, sir.”
“We are still producing very effective propaganda every week. In it we have instructed ALL the animals, especially the pigs and other raccoons to ignore any protests of heresy from the other good animals –especially the humans.”
“We stress in our material that tolerance is of the utmost importance. We never discuss controversial topics and steer the lesson plans so that heresies are never considered. At this point the animals believe that heresies are old-fashioned notions that no longer exist.”
“What’s more, we have inserted propaganda that stresses the importance of acceptance and stone faced non-reaction especially for the swine at the gatherings so that they do not tip their hand as to what they are. We encourage all animals to wear their nicest suits and ties and to bathe beforehand, thereby not smelling like anything foul. This should keep the humans that, as all of us here know, were once animals but have become new creatures through spiritual transformation… from detecting what sort of species many that sit in the pews with them really are…”
“We have successfully confused the humans for decades and can now confidently forecast that the confusion will continue unabated until the Messiah returns to separate the animals.”
When he spoke those final words there was a momentary groan from all the raccoons in the room. They quickly, reflexively, they covered their heads with their paws in unison and chanted in terror, “May it never be for us!” It was an ancient ritual of the Secret Order of Illuminated Raccoons that was repeated every time the Messiah was mentioned.
Then the Grand Pooh-Bah exclaimed, “Excellent!”
He turned to the two Directors of Missionary Work and asked, “Swaggart. Crouch.”
“What do you have to report concerning your program of convincing the fowl in California that they can become new creatures by repeating that little incantation that asks Jesus into their hearts without truly and fully understanding the cost?”
Just then a loud truck air horn blew outside in the road just in front of the building shaking the windows with its fury of decibels. All the raccoons defecated in their chairs. Slightly embarrassed, the Grand Pooh-Bah brought the meeting to order again with a quick strike of his gavel.
