by Jamey Brown
I don’t go to Halloween parties. I drive a cab in New York City all night and I witness a freak show every night of the year. Not everyone mind you, just the ones dressed in their fantasy costumes of a rock star or a Goth or a princess or a cowgirl or a barbarian or an artist or a hippie or a harlot or a witch or a Neanderthal or a space alien or a mental escapee. None seem to be afraid of hell and most don’t believe in the devil, although a few worship him.
Sometimes I think this is my penance for a wild youth acting just like these folk, with my guitar, long hair, bell bottoms and bare feet—drunk, stoned and stupid singing Bob Dylan’s The Times They Are A-Changin’.
Yes the times really are a-changin’ when a former honor student and tight end on a championship football team would practically kill himself with drink and drugs a few years later. And they are still doing it today. In many ways the times are not a-changin’. The ’60′s Culture of Death is still wreaking havoc on our sons and daughter and on us. To be sure, there are many, many fine people in New York, but after midnight Cinderella’s fine coach often turns into a pumpkin, and these pumpkins are not smiling.
I am reminded of a quote from The Cure’ D’Ars Today by Father George Rutler, Doctor of Sacred Theology, and my Pastor at the Church of St. Michael in New York City. He is also the Administrator of the Church of Holy Innocents:
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