Uncloudy Day

 

When Witt and Wittier Films began we had a mission statement. To bring understanding and healing to the generation of kids awash in a world ruled by the Prince of darkness. To counteract the hedonism of the world fostered by those following the words of Aleister Crowley to Do what thou wilt. To lead developing young minds down the trail of darkness to an Uncloudy Day of truth and salvation. To do this we had to walk with the devil. We knew him well. He’s not bad if you laugh at his jokes, believe the convoluted logic and ignore the consequences. But in the end, just like Anton Levey the truth is revealed and on that day it’s all over and it sure is Monday. Only this Monday lasts forever!

How do we convey this to the Tik Tok generation? Two songwriters who walked the streets of Austin trying to get a break in a business that had ruined so many. A business where the prophets drank themselves to death in the back of a Cadillac. A place where sin is glorified. A place where every excess is fulfilled and the Bible is ridiculed. Where the frontal lobe is sedated and the kids become convinced that there is wisdom in thoughtless memes that are really not funny at all but very evident as who the true author was. And what his real aim is. 

It is amazing at how the kids can reject the simple words of Jesus, yet accept the idea that they can change their gender at any moment simply by saying that it is so. That they can eliminate the very thing made in God’s image! How? Because sinning is fun! Everyone loves a party until the lights go out, and the party’s over. 

The devil roams the earth like a roaring lion looking for those he can devour. And on the 4th of July he devoured twenty-seven little girls. And he did it at the worst location to the most pure, the most innocent of God’s children. A Christian Summer camp for little ladies enjoying canoe trips on a lazy river in Central Texas. Turning a babbling brook into a raging torrent, pulling them from their beds in their night clothes and scattering them miles away where cadaver dogs and men with sharp sticks would find what was left of them to try to bring closure to their grieving families. There is no closure in this world. How do you close something like that?

You can’t. You can’t because you must understand. And anger or hate won’t close it. Tik Tok won’t close it. You can’t look away because the smell is still there. But in the silence are twenty-seven little voices. Not calling to those who are old, but to those of their generation left behind, looking for answers. The the devil and his legions have an answer. Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow you die. And their understanding stops right there. Because above all Satan does not want them to hear the words of Jesus. He’s not cool. He’s old news. Mohammed replaced Him, or better yet He never existed and reality is in AI, generated by a mindless algorithm somewhere in a sky that created itself with dumb luck as the floor plan.

And the kids believe it. They believe it because the truth is unbelievable. They believe it because their cognitive abilities have been nutralized by the stream of lies flowing nonstop from their iPhones. But sometimes less is more and the silt of those twenty-seven little voices become louder and louder. Will they hear? That’s what Witt and Wittier is all about. We can’t bring closure because the by-product of closure is forgetfulness, and those of the  XYZ Generation must never forget. Those little voices must never fade away. The devil will never stop until Jesus turns out the lights and the party’s over. Then there will be closure. And on that day every knee will bend . . . or be broken!