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Through all the long night visions of sugar plums danced in my head--wrong holiday. Got up groggy, with a strong desire to hear Natalie Merchant slur her way through "Candy Everybody Wants"--this can't be good. Chose the "Unplugged" version--needed to hear the applause. (Oh, Jesus!)
Sinners take heed: as you burrow into your cushy recliner after the big meal like a python slowly digesting a whole lamb; as groaning with surfeit you nonetheless bite the little ears off yet one more chocolate bunny; as feet up, in your postprandial daze, you surreptitiously flex a doughy cheek to pass gas, try to remember:
On your own personal Easter, just over that rosy horizon, you're going to have to rise up and waltz with the thief whut brung ya to the Big Dance.
Good thief, bad thief--don't let it be a coin flip. Wake up! Make of your every "yes" a fully conscious assent.
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