From Lehi’s Dream Diary
By Stephen Carter on Jul 30, 2007
And it came to pass that I did look up and beheld a sea of vans called mini encircling a great and spacious building. And lo, inside I beheld multitudes clinging to a rod of iron. And the rod led them through the foyer, past the rooms of rest, and up unto two angels that did guard the entrance to a promised land.
And I did join the throng, clinging to the rod of iron, and enduring unto the end, where, lo, I did come face to face with the guarding angels. And they did say unto me, “Party of one?”
But, I did say unto them, “Nay, for behold the fruits of my loins have come with me unto this most holy place.” And I did call my sons and my daughters, and my wife to my side. But, lo, Laman and Lemuel stayed afar off, having rebelled and gone across to a land ruled by the son of Donald.
So with heavy hearts, we entered.
And behold, we beheld a feast set out before us, yea piled without measure upon alters of the finest wood.
“What is this I behold?” I asked an angel standing nearby.
And the angel answered, “It is the best buffet in town.”
Lo, one buffet was filled with salads of every kind. And another filled with the beasts of the field. And another with the bread of the hearth. And another with the fish of the sea. And another with macaroni and cheese, which made all the kids really happy. And behold at the end was a fount of ice cream, pouring forth vanilla, chocolate, or a twist thereof.
Behold, I asked the angel, “What is the interpretation of this?”
And the angel answered and said, “Thou hast reached the Mormon heaven, called in the Adamic tongue, Chuck-a-Rama. Behold, they consider the temple as being like unto heaven, but I say unto you that with their big families and love of anything not specifically condemned by the word of wisdom, this is the right place.”
“Look about you,” the angel continued, “behold the children, how they smear ketchup all over the tables. Watch as the attending angels clean it up. Watch as the angels tend to every need of the parents, for they are weary and in need of rest. Stand in awe as the food multiplies like the sands of the sea. Yea even shrimp and roast beef for dad, salad for mom, French fries for the kids, and all manner of soda of every kind. It is like unto manna from heaven. Behold, this is an archetype for things to come. How else do you think we populate worlds?”
And behold, I took off my sandals, for I knew I was in a holy place.
“No, please,” commanded the angel, “OSHA regulations insist that all customer be shod.”
And thus, we did enter the gates of the land of Chuck-a-Rama and did sup at its endless tables until we were ready pop.
Stephen,
Yea, I say unto you, my son, that there could be nothing so exquisite and so bitter as were my pains when the only place our family could eat was at Chuck-O-Rama (or Old Country Buffet). Yea, and again I say unto you, my son, that on the other hand, there can be nothing so exquisite and sweet as was my joy when the children were old enough and behaved enough to go the TGIF (or any other decent “sit down” dining establishment).
Comment # 1 by Brian | Jul 31, 2007 | Reply
This was great, but if you really want to knock my socks off, you’ll have to employ chiasmus…
And maybe a reference to Curelom Loaf, or Cumon Burgers.
By the way, how many shiblon’s did your meal set you back?
Comment # 2 by Matt Thurston | Jul 31, 2007 | Reply
Happily the in-laws paid for it.
Chiasmus? I must have missed that dish. Was it on the salad bar?
Comment # 3 by Stephen Carter | Jul 31, 2007 | Reply
A Type and a Similitude
By Bruce Jensen
Behold! It rejoiceth my heart that another also seeth and publisheth a type of my Salvation (for I likened the scripture unto myself.)
I have also seen visions, but mine were in the course of crossing that wide and spacious Avenue of 4th in the Great and Abominable City of the Salt Lake. (Pres. Hinkley’s old haunts: you know: “Chuck-a-Rama and 14th Ward Parking only”!)
Many times have I attempted to hold onto the Iron Rod in that cavernous and echoing Building, but I am sometimes lost in a fear and trepidation of inactivity..
Now, in that Great City of Sodom, which is called Salt Lake, because I attempt so fervently to record my visions, I am often without sustenance or bread, but my active Aunt giveth me every Dispensation, a ticket to enter into that Great and Bounteous Land of Plenty, where ice cream is in the similitude of styrofoam and the shrimp taste like deep-fried cotton. Still, I am grateful: Walls of Salad Bar stream downward; the nurseries of the inhabitants thereof cry forth with a deafening din. In this great city, the inhabitants and those going to and from, ensampling the fruits of the Tree of Life, sometimes ignore the angels toiling and working thereabouts and sometimes seem to trample them afoot.
In this Great Kingdom of Chuck-a Rama, the comely and heroically-proportioned Sons of Laman and of the Isles of the Sea do congregate in faithful White Shirts and ties with their tribes; yea, with their relatives amd wives and their confusing innumerable offspring, after Church. The Sons and descendents of Nephi, less valiant, older and much less numerous also try to partake of the fruits of that Vast Abundance, but they seem somewhat restive and overnumbered.
Is it possible that the Heavens may be overcrowded, and that the fair and delightsome Sons and Daughters of Nephi in this Great and Abominable City have forsaken their Commandment to keep the Sabbath Day Holy?
When they break their Commandments, the Lord loveth other people and is gracious in welcoming them into His Inheritance as long as the money floweth and the coffers of the Kingdom are Flush.
(Are we not all equal partakers in the wealth of our spiritual economy?)
I alone (whoops, isn’t Ishmael a prophet or something?) am escaped because of my poverty. But no worryeth! Mayhap (-and-maybe hapeth not!) I will be addressing more than an empty room at the Great Symposium where a greater prophet will instruct me more completely in the Ways of Our Fathers and the Political Correctness of the True Elixir and the Hero’s Journey?
Comment # 4 by Bruce Jensen | Jul 31, 2007 | Reply
Stephen, are you my “long-long cousin?” I think you are….your Mom, Karen, was my Mom’s sister….would like to have your e-mail address, etc for more personal items…thanks…..claude ray
Comment # 5 by Claude Ray Thomas | Jun 30, 2008 | Reply