Reverend Jack’s Daily Verse and Life Advice/Society Report Weekly

by Jack Bedell, 3.24am 10th March 2021

Reverend Jack’s Daily Verse and Life Advice




I’m fixing to tell you, children. 
That snake you’re holding 
doesn’t fear the Holy Ghost.


It fears the truth, the flames 
coming off your tongue when you 
speak it, even if the words you use 

don’t make any sense to its ears. 
You can feel its spine give space 
to your hands. If it could peel out 

of its scales to fly away from what’s 
inside of you, you can bet it would. 
Right now. Know this, children. 

Walk tall in its light. Feel this truth 
glow in you like heat from the sun. 
That snake’s told its one lie already. 

And it has nothing to offer you now. 
The Great Wind has blown all the fruit 
off its tree, laid it low to rot in the dirt. 

Let it writhe in your grasp. Hold it 
close to your face, so it can breathe 
the spirit flowing from your lungs. 


Survivorman and Jim Jarmusch Spend 8 Days on the Banks of Bear Lake

Mostly, the men sat back-to-back under a makeshift lean-to staring out at opposite ends of the same horizon. Survivorman did a fine job of cutting all the saplings the right length and finding enough bushy fir branches to make the shelter pretty watertight in case any squalls came rolling in from the north. The fir needles smelled fantastic all week, but the structure was a little short, and Jarmusch’s feet stuck out the end the first couple of nights until they got used to sleeping together and formed a pretty natural spoon.


Survivorman spent his mornings walking the water’s edge, talking to his camera on a stick about how even in this remote wilderness there were always plastics available along the banks he could use for fishing, or for holding piss in the event they wanted to try distilling some fresh water from it just to pass some time. 


Jarmusch liked to hang back conserving his energies, laid up on the giant-ass log-sized driftwood sprawled out around the camp. He spent whole days pantomiming smoking, really digging into the essence of the movement.


By the time the sun started to set, Survivorman would be back to spread all the shit he’d collected throughout the day—fishing line, old gas cans, a hand full of berries he said tasted like sassafras beer. He’d build a ginormous fire and start playing the Blues on his harmonica. Jarmusch loved walking to the other side of the fire to listen. He said the dark over there felt like a hug. 

On the last morning they kicked dirt on the fire pit, and covered it with the fir branches off the lean-to. Wasn’t much beach along the water, but they walked it toward the coffee shop in town. Jarmusch kept his hands in his pockets the whole walk, and Survivorman fussed with water on his lenses.


“Listen! I have given you authority, so that you can walk on snakes and scorpions and overcome all the power of the Enemy, and nothing will hurt you.”

                    Luke 10: 17-19