The coincidence of Advent
and the HW Bush eulogies
reminded me of DJ Trump’s challenge
to laugh about himself
at least as quickly as he laughs against others.

As compared to any recent US President,
he comes in dead last
for his appropriate humility,
willingness to sacredly listen, empathize with generosity,
and least place for his ability to nurture resilient international peace,
and I am not sure these two challenges
are merely side-by-side coincidental.

Other challenges seem to come with the Yangish motivation required to even become a credible candidate.

Presidential candidates
at least since the Civil War,
if not the Revolutionary War,
are not generally known for saintly sacred listening
to and for healthy multicultural developments,
domestic or foreign,
domestic and yet foreign
to those unschooled in WinWin health-power whisperings,

Noticing positive deviance
advocated and praised and blessed first well-humored,
before negative pedestrian bullying rat races continue
with all paranoid Win/Lose stripes
madly pursued by monoculturing manic political stars.

This Advent day of HW Bush eulogies
was also my oppositionally defiant daughter’s seventeenth birthday.
When I asked her for an allegorical meaning
for the Sleeping Beauty fable
she dismissed the story
as another patriarchal humorless female Messianic staple
for achieving EarthJustice happily ever after
by mere kiss of Prince Charming
after she had done all the heavy emotional lifting
required to rebuild sacred communion
with resilient good humor.

But, she is more interested in discussing Robin Hood
and Little Red Riding Hood,
all the potential messianic Hood leaders
who know predative patriarchal wolves when they see
and hear
and smell them,
even in hooded disguise,
transparently lying on their own grandmother’s bed
and Bibles
and thrones,
about being more committed to democratic good-humored healthy constitutions
advocates for sharing communion with all
before defending their own ego-centric hindquarters.

My fetal alcoholic seventeen year old daughter
knows wolves when she hears them
in government threatening humorless voices
or more entertainingly violent industrial corruption predators.

Feminist Hoods can themselves taste wolf hunger
for royal hunting and riding
and devouring innocent WinWin democratic youth,
separating them from their naive healthy multiculturing forests,
composed by
and for
and of naturally diverse and good-humored habitats.

She can smell satiated predators
growing hungry for vulnerable healthy integrity
stealing back fleeting power from Win/Lose playing wolves
by investing economic and political trust
in those still living natural-humored life
as a normal spiritually connecting re-investment.

Hooded egos still know this spiritually enchanted forest life
as a naturally reconnecting hope
for healthy happier,
more co-redemptive,
EarthJustice futures.

And so the eulogies
and my daughter’s exegetical birthday party progressed
through Cinderella’s king and queendom
at healthier humored EarthJustice hand
after marrying her Prince of Adventuring Revolutionary Peace.

On through the Three Little Pigs
enjoying shared wolf-soup communion
with all EarthTribe’s piglets and cubs,
dolls and stuffed bears
communioned while sitting down grace-fully together.

She hears this same polypathic humored journey
in every diversely sacred narrative
she leads and listens,
smells and tastes and feels
hope for Earth’s wealth
of future everyday health
for democratic constitutions,
disability stories,
eulogies inviting salvific humor.

This coincidence of birthday and funeral
reminds me of our sacred challenges
to laugh communally among ourselves
more than jeering a viral twittering weapon
against the vulnerabilities of others.