Ol’ Subardo, he gonna hang around right behind your shoulder, up high like, real close in, where he can sniff at your mind.  Alla time he gonna do this, he don’t never go way.  And every time your mind call up a bad thought… and then linger on that bad thought, …kinda likin’ it, like… Ol’ Subardo he gonna notice. Then he gonna take a bite.

 

Ol’ Subardo he feed on trouble.  He can smell it a mile away, only he ain’t no mile away, see.  He stay real up close.  Alla time.  And he’s real fat.

 

You never make trouble where there weren’t no trouble? Not until you make it?  Course you did.  Bet you remember it too. Everbody’s did it, made trouble when they don’t have to.  Just do it because it feel good, and mean-like.  Inconvenience somebody. Offend somebody. Harm somebody. Kill somebody. Maybe deserve it, maybe don’t. Trouble.

 

Know what trouble is really?  Trouble is unloving. It ain’t the opposite of love, it ain’t the opposite of anything, it is just absence of love. UN-loving, see.  IN-difference. Like a way of feeling.  Inside.  In your mind, where it’s all private-like, and hid away and secret-like, and can’t nobody else see in.  At least you think they can’t.  You be wrong.

 

You think nobody can’t see what you thinkin’, specially not when what you are thinking is mean and petty or hurtful or churlish or selfish or lustful or greedy or hateful or vengeful or – this a real long list now – or whatever trouble you makin’ up and enjoyin’ in your private hid-away thoughts in your hideyhole private mind?  You think can’t nobody see what you are thinkin’ in there. That’s what you think.

 

God can. Spirits can. Hundreds. Thousands. Tens of thousands. Lots more. All can.

 

And Ol’ Subardo can.  He know what you are thinking.  Alla time.

 

And no matter he’s so fat, he stay hungry alla time. How he stay alive and thrive is eat them mean petty hurtful churlish selfish lustful greedy hateful vengeful damn unworthy thoughts people carry round in their minds, alla time.

 

Every time you got one he notice. And he just stretch out his little round mouth full of razor sharp little pointy teeth over your bad thought, and he bite it out and swallow it, and he be fed again.  A little bite, right out of your mind, your soul, your spirit. Then your mind-soul-spirit ain’t quite as big as it was, see.  It got this little bite out of it.  And Ol’ Subardo, he still hungry, he don’t ever get full.  He be ever vigilant, as they say.

 

What you are then left with is a mind-soul-spirit what’s got a bite out of it.  You been made smaller, as they say. You heard about “big” people and “small” people, I guess. It don’t mean their outside, it mean their inside.

 

Some people say, He apologized, even though it weren’t really his fault – he’s big that way.  Or they say Oh, she’s a big person, she took that no-good back in, and forgave him.  But they also say You ever see such a little person as that? – he wouldn’t admit he was wrong did hell froze over.  Or She just can’t get over being mean and spiteful, she so small, don’t know she’s ever gonna get past it and grow up.  People talk like that.

 

It’s her soul, her spirit, they talking about.  You either grow in spirit or you don’t.

 

Ol’ Subardo he can’t eat good thoughts.  Somebody think real big thoughts, real good, real caring, real loving thoughts about their fellow man or fellow woman, Ol’ Subardo he can’t stand those.  Won’t touch ‘em. So the spirit thinking those good thoughts, it grows see.  Good thoughts make spirits bigger, bad ones invite Ol’ Subardo to come take a bite.

 

You know somebody who’s a big spirit?  Bet you do.  Know somebody who’s little in spirit?  Bet you do that too.  Which kind you know more of?

 

How you doing yourself?  You big or little?  Don’t have to answer, we both know already.  You big mostly, most of the time, right?  But only just once in a while you let one of them unworthy little bad thoughts come in, right? Sure you do, right.

 

And then – here’s the really bad part – you enjoy it.  Actually kinda-like dwell on it.  Don’t banish it immediately. Just sorta roll it over, taste it like, and get that good ol’ vengeful feeling, or greedy ol’ feeling, or I am so much better than that lowlife, or whatever kind of bad thought it is, and waller it around – enjoy it.

 

And you kinda like the feel of it, even if after a few minutes you think Well now that ain’t worthy, I oughtta be ashamed, I’m gonna stop thinking like that.  Too late.  You done enjoyed it, however brief it might’a been, and Ol’ Subardo done noticed.  And he just stretch out his little fat neck and bite that bad thought out of your mind-soul-spirit.

 

Then your spirit just got one bite smaller, see.

 

Now think about somebody ain’t half as good as you (give you the benefit of the doubt, now).  Try, just try for a minute here, put your imaginator inside the mind-soul-spirit of a real baddy. A murderer, say, who don’t feel a twinge of remorse for someone he just shot down or stabbed to death.  Or a rapist who let selfish lust so overwhelm self control that he assault some innocent little person going about her business, trying to do good, and he violate her and don’t care. And he’s glad he did it cause it make him feel big and tough.  Can you imagine what Ol’ Subardo is gonna leave of these people’s little spirits after he’s ate all the bad he can?  Them spirits gonna be a lot smaller, boy.  Real small.

 

You can imaginate these things all day.  Here be a big fat cat corporation boss, he feel real glee over his quarterly bottom line what was built up on thousands of ordinary little people smoking his cigarettes, killing their lungs and hearts in slow motion, some getting cancer and heartache, all dying sooner than did they hadn’t smoked and made him a rich sonofabitch.  And he feel just real good about his self and his corporation got so rich, and he don’t give no damn about all them people or even think about them. He done forgot he is a child of God and they are his brothers and sisters. Forgot real bad.

 

Here be this little fundamentalist knows damn well she is Right and everybody who don’t believe the way she believes is going straight to hell and good enough for them that’s what they deserve because they did not dress prim like her or pray like she did or be as bygod good as she is or come to her little narrow church or adopt its little narrow doctrine as their own the way she did so they gonna roast in hell forever she know. She like that.

 

She has let her imaginator dwell on that scenario a few times now, about how it must feel to those sinners who actually go to hell, which is most people who don’t believe like she does, and then they’re there with Vile Satan and they’re throwed in everlasting fire what burns their spirit-body all over with terrible pain and inconceivable anguish which will go on and on forever and ever, everlasting unbearable pain to infinity time without end.

 

And she sniff and think they got just what they deserve, what’s it to her. Like any good righteous missionary who know what’s best for other people she had told ‘em the gospel truth, or tried to, and they wouldn’t listen, and she believe in her heart they are getting God’s justice.  And she enjoy that justice and feel righteous about it, and about herself too. Ol’ Subardo gonna have a field day on this woman.  He get fatter and fatter, eating all her bad thoughts, all her enjoyment, and her little spirit just get small and smaller.

 

Ol’ Subardo he ain’t shape like you and me.  He shape kinda like his mama was a great big tobacco worm crossbred with a humongous catalpa worm was his daddy.  You know, all big long and green and swole up like, got purple hairs sticking out odd ways. And got these segments front to back, look just like way too much sausage got stuffed into a pantyhose, with a steel band tied around every few inches with the segments bulging out so bad you can’t even see the steel bands no more, and what all he been eating is crammed in here and crammed in there and all so very tight indeed he’s about gonna explode any minute. Only he don’t explode, see, he only get denser.

 

Right now he is the densest thing in the universe because he been doing his trick, biting all them bad thoughts out of spirits, for such a long time that he is now the densest thing ever was since the big bang.  If he ever do let go and bust – whoo-ee.  Only he won’t.

 

That be how he is made. Ol’ Subardo he is self made to contain infinite density.  Infinite. That is a whole lot.  He has got to be made that way because he has got really green pastures on which to feed on.  His feed bin is every human being is ever was ever is yet to be, which is quite a few people, and among them they got enough bad thoughts going on alla time to keep Ol’ Subardo in style.  Alla time. Real feast, that’s what he got.

 

Imagine alla bad thoughts go on in people’s heads all over earth. Right now.  Dope seller in Pleasantville.  Terrorist bigman tell dumbass little suicide freak how he get seven virgins, afterward.  Virgins; all excited. Right. Corporate raider take over, drain cash, trash hardworking employees, stockholders. Right. Vegetable lady got her thumb on the scale. Pimp boss over ten too-young girls. Right. Mortgage commodity speculator.

 

Lying car salesman up front, lying service manager in back.  Arab Sheikh catch outside guy in his harem, stone to death every woman got touched. Right. Greedy Wall Street trader, do anything to buy low sell high and be’damn consequence for ordinary little victims and his nation’s economy. Righteous politician cut taxes used to pay food subsidy for very poor people. Alla same.  Hurt people.  Don’t care.

 

Pride. Lust. Envy. Anger. Covetous. Gluttony. Sloth. Vengefulness. Selfishness. Greed.  Avarice. Resentment.  Jealousy.  Hate.  Seven deadly sins?  Hell, must be three hundred.

 

Ol’ Subardo he get denser as we speak.  Israeli settler know she can steal Holy Land from Palestinians because God-Gave-It-To-Israel-Thousands-Years-Ago and say kill all native Canaanites man woman child, every one. Right. Palestinians seriously want to nuke Tel Aviv women children grandparents, every one. Right. African president lose election, won’t get out. Right. Mullahs want theocracy in every country all over earth, then they can make folks think straight and narrow.  Very narrow. Reactionary fundamentalist Christians and Hindus want same thing as mullahs, only their way. Republican hate democrats, democrat hate republicans, all calla other enemy. Subardo bait. Goes on and on – decades centuries millennia forever seem like. Right. Ever get better you think?

 

Maybe not. Worst of all: hate-talk radio heads. Heads and mouths and asses all sit around on table top, just neck-up heads, mouths open goin’ constant every day, bigmouth motormouth meanmouth. Spread hate, vitriol, Un-love. Influence  people, make dumbass people hate too, hate thy neighbor, more and more to spread hate, more people make more trouble, more hate, all enjoy hating. Enjoy it!! Meanmouth filthy-thoughts rash limburgerstink making hatehatehatehatehate….  Ol’ Subardo, he bite-bite-bite-eat-eat-eat.

 

Know what?  You gotta love all these creeps.  That is your job. Despite all instinct, you s’posed to love ‘em.  Despise the behaviour, not the creep.  See?  Think you can do that?

 

You don’t love ‘em, you think bad thoughts about ‘em, maybe you just sorta enjoy them bad thoughts an ungenerous instant or two, Ol Subardo he gonna notice. He gonna take little bites, then bigger bites, out from your ungenerous lapse of loving spirit. He stay real up close.  Alla time.  And he’s real fat.

 

 

 

©William D. Coffey, 2012