Gospels of Damnation

“TVs today are over-pumped with concoctions of estrogen and testosterone, too much sex being advocated for by Safe Sex and Contraceptives Campaigns. There are too many adverts for hedonism, crime, violence, perversion, injustice, and vengeance.

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“WHAT’S WRONG WITH THE WORLD today?” Pastor Winfred asked her congregation. “How do you expect our children to be morally upright when what we do is preach the gospels of damnation to them?” Her voice rose above the din of everything else, amplified a thousand times by the loudspeakers piercing the streets from Central Park.

“TVs today are over-pumped with concoctions of estrogen and testosterone, too much sex being advocated for by Safe Sex and Contraceptives Campaigns. There are too many adverts for hedonism, crime, violence, perversion, injustice, and vengeance.

“Gone are the sermons of abstinence, respect for human dignity and life, parental guidance and G-Rating what’s broadcasted on TV. Communication has been confined to gadgets of vanity and profanity, parenting left to Mr & Mrs Google and a young unmarried couple you call Facebook and Twitter in search of money that’s never enough. Not to mention that the Bible, the Qur’an, and other religious texts are now an application on your iPhones and BlackBerries.

“When I look at humanity today, I feel sorry for being alive. We live the gospels of damnation to the dire neglect of the true gospels of salvation.” Pastor Winfred scanned the masses before continuing.

All was silent; you could have thought Central Park was a morgue.

Daddy’s Girl

“All evidence is pinned to you. It is your bulimic belly that is securely carrying a truckload of the drugs, your designer clothes that were concealing your junk, Miss Mule,” Inspector Lina said. “Not your dad’s, junkie. And if the grapevine is anything to go by, your father is retiring tomorrow. If I were you, I’d try to persuade Dad to chunk off part of his send-off package to get me the best criminal lawyers around. The judges might decide to get you a few years or a hefty fine, or both, which of course, Dad will pay, or you will rot in jail, and no one will appeal.”

Robbed by Flesh

However, even after paying the ransom, her abductors didn’t keep their part of the bargain. That was until today in the morning when she came with tears in her eyes and confessed.

“It was Rob,” she cried. “My boyfriend. We cooked everything up. Dad, I’m so sorry I stole from you.” Like she was contrite.

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