Speaking In Tongues...

So last night I was having a conversation with my friend Gerardo about speaking in tongues...we were "watching" the movie The Gospel, and it seemed an appropriate subject matter. Well...after the movie...the best massage I've ever gotten...and various and other interactive moments...Gerardo went home to take care of his ailing Mother (what a good boy...I'd tell my Mom good luck now get out...American Idol is coming on...and I don't want your respirator interrupting Simon's attempts to utterly destroy that poor Asian tranny's self-esteem).  Well...I know it's one thing to have dreams about things that you have recently seen or heard...it's another thing to wake yourself up three times during the night shouting out loud in tongues.

Oh yeah...now...either my new sleep medication that I started this weekend is having some wacky side effects...or I was revisiting a past life as one of Jesus' disciples during the Pentecost.  Most likely a sly demon has slipped past the crucifix around my neck and is stretching his talons before going at it Linda Blair style. And ya'll know just how crazy she got. The things she did with that cross still make my anus clench up thinking about it. "Your Mother's in here Carus...would you like to leave a message."

There is one thing though, that I would like to clear up with the charismatic pentecostal Christians running to and fro in the world. Subjugating their women to the will of the men. Beating queers and trannies to death. Drowning their children cuz God told them to.  Especially those crazy country ones with their tents, lawn chairs, and faith healers. If some redneck could just touch folks and make 'em better...Blue Cross/Blue Shield would be right out of business. Sorry...got sidetracked there for a second.

Most charismatics seem to believe that tongues is speaking in the language of the angels...so they stand up...roll their eyes back into their heads...and start speaking in pig latin. For anyone that has actually picked up the Bible and took a moment to read just a bit about the Pentecost in the upper room...it says that when the fire came down and alighted on the heads of the disciples they began speaking in many tongues and then rose up and went out into the street to preach the miracle of Christ's reserruction...as Jersusalem was a great city and it was Passover...Jews of many nations were walking in the market when the disciples came to preach and they were astounded to hear the disciples speaking of the miracle of Christ's ressurection in their OWN tongues.

OK...translation for the slow...the gift of speaking in tongues is not a game to see who can freak out the unsuspecting the most through quoting Metallica lyrics backwards...but is instead the divinely given ability to speak in an actual human language that one has never studied and to be able to do so fluently. Now...I'm pretty sure that I wasn't speaking in any human language last night. If I was it was something real crazy...like Euskadi...and really...how is screaming outloud...in the middle of the night...in Albuquerque...going to further God's work on earth. Unless perhaps a wayward Basque took a wrong turn at Viscaya and ended up on Coal Street and needed some reassurance at that moment that God really does care about Euskerra and their fight for freedom from their Spanish oppressors. But that's probably a long shot scenario.

I may never solve the mystery of my night time tongues experience. But if it happens again...I'm calling the Bishop and taking a bath in holy water. That demon will NOT be turning my head all around and backwards. Leaving me with the chiropractor bill for life. If he thinks I'm going to be as easy to control as that white girl...he's got a real shock coming. She was from Georgetown. I'm from the Ghetto. NORTHSIDE!