Different Perspectives of Benton
Perspective Two of Six: An Army of Sheep
Character Point of View: Rev. Abraham “Abe” Lincoln Shawn

“An Army of sheep lead by a lion is better than an army of lions led by sheep.” - Alexander The Great.

The congregation of my church is a collection of sheep in need of a shepherd. They are afraid, afraid of things their tiny minds can not start to understand. They do not understand social media, they do not understand cryptocurrency, they can not begin to even phantom the profound effect the internet has had on our daily lives, but they are loyal to a fault and believe I am God's appointed one. And that is all that matters.

Benton is a perfect town, the population is not too small, not too large, I think right now we have around four or five thousand souls living within our town. The down has dozens of churches, most of those churches are Baptist, I helm the biggest one, West Street Baptist Church. Benton's only mega church with room enough to seat five hundred or more people and I make sure each of those seats are filled every Sunday morning.

Why? Because of power? I don't concern myself with saving souls, I just want power. The people that make up my congregation are poor dirt farmers. Many of them are dim in their heads, a bit slow witted and yet they have hate in their hearts and that hate is what I want. Many of them fear the government. Many believe the lies that the media said about the last election being stolen. Many of them go to bed with loaded shotguns by their bedside. Many I know will kill for me.

And that is what I want. Like I'd said, I'm not concerned with the business of saving souls, I just want the power that comes with being a preacher, I've always wanted power. Ever since I was a little boy, I dreamed of commanding people. Of holding the power of life and death in my hands.

Now, anger is a powerful tool, but it must be given form. Benton has a small population of what people call the “LGBTQ+” crowd. Not more than most small southern towns. The only difference is this population has not been coward into the shadows. Instead they flaunt their presence in this town. They demand to be noticed, they demand to be treated like humans, and that has invited the ire of many of the old, white, gentry of the town. Why, there is even a rumor going around town that the mayor of the town wants to hold a parade to honor them. To celebrate how inclusive Benton has become. 

That is why I've targeted that small slice of the population. Because like the Nazis with Jews, I can point to them and say loudly, “They are the reason Benton is declining! They are the reason why the world you knew and loved is melting away before your very eyes! They are the scourge of the devil and must be removed from the face of the earth! They and all the ones who stand behind them, who love them and support them! Do the Lord's word and run them out of town!”

Is it true? No, but they are old and too dumb to question it. And those who have the spine to question it. Those who have a backbone to stand up and voice their disapproval? Why I simply motion for one of my guards to carry the wayward stranger out back, and have as I love to call them 'A come to Jesus' meeting. What does that mean, it means the person who dared to raise his voice to me, who dared to question the infinite wisdom of their supreme leader must be shown the error of his ways and what better way to correct and error than by beating the person onto the path of righteousness again as the Bible says.

“Do not withhold discipline from a child; if you punish them with the rod, they will not die. Punish them with the rod and save them from death.” That is Proverbs twenty three verses thirteen and fourteen. And it is true, these people are my children, even if some are older than me, I am their spiritual father and the responsibility for their spiritual health is a burden I've been tasked by the Lord to carry till I lay down my cross as I breath my last breath.

And like a good father, when one of my children dares put one toe out of line I must correct him. With the rod, after all a few moments of mortal pain is a small price to pay to escape the everlasting fires of Hell and enjoy the sweet shade of Heaven. A land I'm told that flows with milk and honey.

Anyway I ramble, let's return to the main focus of this little conversation shall we? The Transgender and LGBT+ population of Benton and how I wish to coward them into the shadows soon.

Three cheerleaders of this town are Transgender, I've made a point of learning their names, Madeline Brewer, Jamie Sarah Potter, and Cerridwen Circe Whitethorn. The last one is a self proclaimed witch and you know what the Holy Bible says about witches don't you. Oh you don't then let me quote it for you.

“Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.” That is found in the Book of Exodus, Chapter twenty two, verse eighteen if you want to look it up.

There have always been witches in Benton too, strange people live in the hills that ring the town. A community of some two hundred or so live along a road that snakes through a hollow called 'Haunted Hollow' likewise in the hills that go toward Eden, a tiny village some six miles due East of Benton there are many people who have turned their little houses into fully fortified compounds. Complete with moats and a highly charged electric fence. The area inside the fence is patrolled by pairs of Dobermans that have been trained to attack anything that moves. A little extreme yes? But I think it’s fitting enough.

These are the people I want to attract to my banner. Why? People when the time comes I want sheep that are willing to follow my orders, my orders to the letter. I want them to be willing to kill for me, to take to the hills and defend each little hilltop and gully to the last man, woman and child. Why? Because if the Baptist Church Governing Council wants to remove me, I want them to have a thousand little Ruby Ridges on their hands. 

Why? Because if they threaten me I want them to pay and pay with blood. A pastor controls the gates to Heaven. And so, I plan on using the LGBTQ+ community of Benton and those that support them as a means to an end of securing my own power. Because these people are afraid of them, they are afraid that they are eating away at the moral fabric of this town and in that fear, they have turned to me, they have turned to me for guidance, for assurance that everything in the end will work out.

And so as I prepare next Sunday's Sermon, I smile and flip through the news. The media is playing right into my hands. The more stories they run about the border being overrun, about how the election was stolen, about how Disney World has become a den of thieves and perverts. The more they beat the drums and sound the trumpets. The more my sheep will become cowards and in that they will turn toward me and I, I will stand ready to direct their fear into a powerful weapon.

Because I have far bigger ambitions than just being a pastor of a small town southern church. I want real power, real and I'm slowly building up an army of faithful followers, who are willing and ready to kill for me. And that is simpler than it sounds. Because I control the gates to Heaven. So yes, worry not fair town of Benton, your time of being redeemed is near at hand.

For soon I will usher in a rebirth. And God promised to redeem Jerusalem, so too shall I promise to redeem Benton and usher in a new age, one where the Klan once more holds sway again empowered by the political pull of the White Citizens Council and it will be me in the shadows pulling the strings. Guiding the hearts and minds of the councilmen. I feel that day is close at hand.

Before I go, I want to tell you the reason why I have made it my mission to target the minuscule LGBTQ+/Transgender Community of Benton. The first reason is quite simple, making them the target of my anger filled sermons gives me brownie points with the MAGA movement that is slowly regaining its strength here in Benton. And the second is biblical.

Let me explain, in a way that even the most woke among you can understand. And understand I only do this so, I can hopefully snatch the wool from your eyes and save your souls from the fires of everlasting hell that are being stoked for you.

First let us look at the book of Deuteronomy. Deuteronomy chapter twenty two verse five clearly says.

“A woman shall not wear a man's garment, nor shall a man put on a woman's clock, for whoever does these things is an abomination to the Lord your God.”

The keyword there is 'Abomination' . Let's take a closer look at that word. For that I need you guys to dig out your copies of 'Oxford Languages' and look up that word 'Abomination'. The word is a noun and is defined as follows; 'A thing causes disgust or hatred'. So in other words men who put on dresses, skirts, paint their faces to look like whores cause disgust and hatred for God.

Furthermore we only need to look at the First Corinthians chapter eleven verse fourteen to find further proof that the lifestyle they are living is not only morally wrong, but hurtful to the Christian and moral fabric of this community.

“Does not nature itself teach you that if a man wears long hair it is a disgrace for him,”

So in short the crusade I'm launching from this tiny church, is not one of hate, but one of love. I love all people, and want to see all people saved. But I believe my God is a God of law and Order and will punish all those who disobey him by sending them into the everlasting fires of Hell. Thus these poor, lost little souls need to be warned and guided back to the right path. As the Bible says in the Book of Psalms, Psalms one hundred and nineteen verse one hundred and five.

“Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.”

And so I must use his word to light the paths of all those who are lost and wander in the wilderness of sin, vice and confusion. 

After all it's my duty as a pastor to do just that.It’s also my duty to establish the authority of the church and of God here on earth.

Different Perspectives of Benton
Perspective Three of Six: Why I fight
Character Point of View: Fr. Percival 'Percy' Bell. Episcopal Priest, Rector of St. Mary's Episcopal Church.

I know there are people in this town that wish to hang me. I'm aware of it, and that fact does not bother me in the least. In fact I take them wishing to hang me as a sign that I'm doing something right. I have long given up on the notion that I can bring all the churches together to share in the common cup and eat from the common table. I could if I swallow my pride and turn on certain members of my small flock. But where would the honor in that be?

My name is Percival Bell, I'm a priest in the Episcopal Church, I was educated at St. Katherine's Episcopal School, a fine old Episcopal school that is located on the high bluffs that overlook the mighty Mississippi River. The school is a private school, and is one of the oldest private schools in the state. The school, like the church, has endured the tumult of the seasons. That thought alone gives me hope for the future.

I was born into a very, old, and very respectful family, the Bell family, who had been among the first to settle Vicksburg when this region was open up to settlement. The first Bells had been farmers. They grew cotton. Cotton grows well here in the south. The coffee colored soil and the hot, humid summers are ideal for growing the plant. There was wealth in cotton, wealth that transformed the first generation of Bells from poor folks into rich land owning aristocrats.

I will forgive you for saying that America does not have a landed nobility, that you must look across the ocean to find any remaining traces of the landed aristocracy that once controlled much of the world. I will forgive myself in saying that because you have not looked at the region many have forgotten. This area, this Mississippi Delta is home to an American born and breed landed aristocracy, from which I come from.

I'm ashamed to say it was the wealth, wrenched from the land, by enslaved men and women who worked from the first rays of the rising sun to the rising of the moon that made my people wealthy. That afforded them the chance to send their sons abroad to be educated in the classics such as Latin, Greek, and the Bible.

It was for the keeping of that wealth that Mississippi along with her sister Southern States broke off and formed Confederate States of America. I know many will go to their graves saying the war between the states was fought to keep states rights intact. And that the modern day Republican Party is doing just that, I chuckle and remind them the Republican Party was the one who raised the Federal armies and freed the slaves in the first place and now seems to enslave them again. I don't think they understand my sense of humor.

The Civil War came and went, my folks still kept their wealth and their land. We somehow regained it in the Reconstruction era that followed the war. Held on to it during the Great Depression and through the many other times this world has turned. It was this wealth, passed down from one generation to the other, that made for easy living for me and my folks.

It was this wealth that afforded my family the chance to send me first to St. Katherine's Episcopal School to be given the finest education this region could afford me. I was well schooled in Latin, Greek, the Sciences and The Bible.
I also became well acquainted with the Classics. Students at St. Katherine's are required to attend Episcopal Services once a day as part of their classic Education. Daily I took communion wine and thrice I took it on Sunday. By the time I was given my diploma I was well suited for the next step in life. My Mother and Father had seen it fit to pass on the farm to the middle child, my now deceased sister. Lisa Bell, and had seen it fit my older brother would take up the practice of law. I being the youngest and the second born male it seemed was deemed bound to the priesthood.

And so after I received my diploma from St. Katherine's Episcopal School, I was told to enroll in Sewanee: The University of the South. Sewanee is a four year Episcopal Liberal Arts college that is located in Sewanee, Tennessee. It is owned by twenty eight southern dioceses of the Episcopal Church and has traditionally educated the softer, more genteel sons of the south.

Four years came and went, and a few more. At last I completed my course of study and on a bitterly cold October morning, a cold that rarely comes to Mississippi I was ordained to the priesthood at St. Andrew's Cathedral in Jackson, Mississippi by then bishop Duncan Montgomery Gray Jr. who said to after the service was over and done with. “Nothing good will ever come of you.” Charming fellow that Duncan Montgomery Gray Jr. was.

Anyway I have told you enough about myself. Allow me to tell you a little about St. Mary's Episcopal Church and her congregation.

St. Mary's Episcopal Church is a small wooden church with white walls and a pink roof. The church is located in the heart of what many consider 'Downtown'. The street that runs in front of is brick, and the church building itself dates back to 1902. The church is the second Episcopal church to call Benton home, the first was torn down following the American Civil War. It seemed Southern Forces had used the church as a make-shift field hospital following the Battle of Benton.

St. Mary's congregation is mostly drawn from the small business owner class that call Benton home. But really everybody is welcome. I do not make a habit of checking new members' bank accounts. I feel, what they give is what the Lord God has placed on their hearts and the Lord God knows them better than I do. And I trust him to provide in times of need and in times of plenty.

Also counted among the congregation of my small church are names that are intertwined with the History of Benton, some have even been around since the town was founded. Names like Potter, Brewer, Edward, Croft, Smith, Shoemaker, all of those families helped to buy the land the church sits on, and helped to pool together the money to pay for the mortgage. And oddly enough in some roundabout away I'm kin to three of those families. I'm kin to the Potters, Brewers and Crofts. Distant kin, but kin nonetheless.

I'm proud of my tiny church, it's small but there is so much love in it. Now, I should say that Benton, for being a small southern town, has a large, or so I would say noticeable population of people who fall within the bounds of the LGBTQ+ community. Quite a few are transgender. Why do I bring this up?

Because there is a fellow pastor in town, his name is Abraham Lincoln Shawn. My archenemy if you will. Who would love to me hung from the nearest street lamp and my church burned to the ground and my gentle flock scattered and fed the wolves. He is a cruel little man. He has little love for me and my church  and yet I, because I must pray everyday that his soul will be healed. And God will shine his light down upon him.

You see Abraham Lincoln Shawn is, and I'm loath to use this word, a leader of a church that I must call nothing more than a cult. His flock comes from the swamp bottoms, and the cane brakes. They are afraid and in their fright they have turned to Abraham Lincoln Shawn for guidance. He has in turn turned their fears into deadly venom.

These people are the modern Ku Klux Klan. The more well read among them have read The Tuner Diaries. And I'm sure many of them keep a signed copy of the text in their personal collection, next to their copies of Mein Kampf. They scare me, because I know I must pray for them and yet I know they will gladly kill me should the chance present itself.

That is not to say I have sat back and waited for the wolves to come and carry me away. No, I have by and large assembled a league of men, women of all races and creeds to counter them. The men, women and sometimes teens volunteer their time, give freely what they can and give what they can to help those who might fall prey to them. They volunteer in soup kitchens, take up time with the elderly and shut in, promoting the town. In short, they fight misinformation with correct information and have established a network of self-supporting cells acting to transform Benton.

What role do I play? Well I work behind the scenes. I secure funds for their operations through the Bell Family. I use my own connections to bring in fresh talent. Among those who have answered my call is William Percy, a Greenville Percy and a Lawyer who left a well established practice to open up a charitable law practice here to help low income LGBTQ+ people get the paperwork they need done, done right and done for free or for a very low cost.

The next one is a young nurse Dawn Anna Sharbrough who also happens to transgender. Look beyond that, she is a skilled nurse and Benton is in need of skill nurses. I inserted her into Benton Academy where she is now the school nurse and not only does she serve as my eyes and ears. But she also looks after transgender students who attend that school. Ms. Sharbrough is one of the famous Sharbrough's that calls Sharbrough's Landing home. She has pledged to do what she can to help me in this fight.

The last thing I've done is brought my nephew James Donald Bell, often called Daisy here to Benton. James lives with me and my wife. James is a knight, he has a strong sense of honor, and a strong sense of what is right and what is wrong. He will defend the meek and the mild till the day of Judgment.

What else have I done? Oh yes, I have formed the many downtown merchants into a committee to promote business in the downtown area. Many of these merchants attend church here. The committee also promotes a peaceful, accepting Benton. One where all people are welcomed and cherished. And so I've done what I can do without showing my hand.

I only hope I've done enough to turn the tide when the time comes. I guess we will see before long. And before you, Let me tell you a little more about the counter measures I've taken. Benton has on its payroll fourteen full time police officers. Pretty remarkable considering the town only has a population of around six thousand or so. Of those fourteen police officers four attend church here. One of them happens to be my niece, Josephine Bell, who transferred from the Vicksburg PD to the Benton PD at my personal request.

Besides being the rector of St. Mary's Episcopal Church, I'm also the Chaplain for Benton's Police Force. My hope is to use that position to not only provide emotional comfort but spiritual direct to the brave men and women of the Benton PD. I also make a point to visit both schools. And provided emotional comfort for the students and the teachers.
I also sit on the board of directors for Benton Academy and have become the Chaplain for their sports program. I see it as an excellent chance to provide spiritual oversight to the young men who play sports there. My wonderful wife also takes up time with the cheerleaders and other female athletics.

In short I am doing everything I can to check his rise to power. I will not go down without a fight, nay our victory is already secure. Because as long as I breathe I will fight. Why? Because it's the right thing to do.

Different Perspectives of Benton
Perspective Four of Six: The South will rise again! And Donald Trump will be President!
Character Point of View: Shawn Bridges.

This whole world is going to hell. A man can work from Dawn till Dusk and at the end of the working day he'll still starve to death. Abroad the world seems falling apart with Mr. Vladimir Putin bombing the hell out of the Ukrainians and the Jews killing the Arabs again. All the while we have people spilling across our border by the thousands. Covid rising again, and the dollar is almost worthless. And I can square the blame on one person, his name is Joe Biden and I believe he is the Antichrist and I believe all the events that are unfolding right now were foretold two thousand years ago in the Book of Revelations.

I also believe we, the once proud, and free citizens of the United States have been reduced to a state of servitude by the money-mongering bastards of Wall Street and the high-tech corporations of Silicon Valley. I tell you what, it's enough to make a man's blood boil. Now, I'm a good old boy. I was born and raised in Sharbrough's Landing, I was raised in a working class family. My granddaddy was a sharecropper who toiled from sun up to sun down to put food on the table. And a roof over his family's head. And clothes on their back and shoes on their feet. My daddy studied hard and pulled himself up by his boot laces and joined the armed forces as soon as he turned eighteen.

He fought in the Gulf War and earned the Silver Star. Once he got out he joined the Sharbrough's Landing Police Department and started to work his way through the ranks till he was made Chief. My daddy worked long and hard to put a roof over my head and food on the table for mom and I.

As for myself, I joined up as soon as I could. I'd married my High School sweetheart and well I got her pregnant on our honeymoon. So I really had no choice but to sign up. The 'War' was still going on so after basic training they pushed a rifle in my hand and sent me into the sandbox. Eighteen months I was over there in that burned out wasteland, seeing shit I can't put into words. Doing horrible things to horrible people. Heck I had to shoot some kids down in the road cause they were rushing toward our position. War is hell, war is cruel and as much as I hate to say it, I started to enjoy it a little.

War to me was like hunting, only they shoot back at you. Anyway at the end of my first deployment I came home to find my wife had given birth with my son while I was away. She had named him 'Ronald Allen Rogers' after her dad, my father-in-law. That did not bother me. What bothered me, is that in my eighteen months being away from my family, my sister-in-law 'Tabitha Shires' had become my brother-in-law 'Tony Shires'.

I was informed that she had grown tired of being a woman and wanted to become a man. I told her she was full of shit and if she wanted to fuck her body up she could. But she had to stay away from my son and my wife. My wife threw one hell of a shit fit. She told me I was nothing more than a cruel bastard because I was keeping her away from her 'Brother'. I told her point-blank and to her face that she did not have a 'Brother' no she had a 'Sister' and right now her 'Sister' was pretending to be a guy.

Well after that things settled down some. I went off for another eighteen month tour of the sandbox. Saw some bad shit, fought my way through some really tough ambushes. Saw some good friends get killed in front of me, and saw some terrible shit. Halfway through my employment, I got a call from my wife. First I thought something was wrong.

Cause you know, it's rare to get calls from home out here in the sandbox. Turns out she had phoned me to tell me that something bad had happened to her brother and she needed me to come home. You know for moral support and all. I took that chance to remind her that she did not have a 'Brother' but a 'Sister' and if something bad had happened to her she had brought it on herself by dressing like a man and acting like a man. I later found out that she had gotten the tar beaten out of her by a few guys in a smoke filled poolroom. For what I don't know, but they knocked her up pretty good and she spent a few days in ICU in Mississippi Medical Center. I'm grateful she lived, I just hate the beating did not knock some sense into that brick head of hers.

Anyway, she ended the call and told me it was over. That if I could not accept her 'Brother' for who he was, then there was no need for us to stay together. Plus she said the stress of me being away eighteen months at a time was too much for her. I said a few things I should not have said, and broke the phone in the process. Anyway nine months later I was back stateside.

And my whole world seemed had been turned upside down. The army taught me only one skill and that was how to kill people. And I was quite good at it and I enjoyed it. But once I transitioned from military life back to civilian life I found out that killing was frowned upon. To make matters worse the world was starting to change. I got out as soon as Barack Obama was leaving office and Donald Trump was getting into office. And yes, I voted for Donald Trump, I voted for him twice. Proud of it.

Anyway, Covid-19 hit as soon as he took office I think, people started talking about defunding police, and a lot of nasty stuff went down. I would work my nine to five down at the Wal-Mart, come home and turn on the news and see looters running the streets of American Cities. I would see protests, people protesting this and that. A bunch of stuff about BLM (Black Lives Matter) and how the commander and chief was giving the 'Awoke' crowd hell. And I was rooting for him. I felt after eight horrible years under Barack Obama this country was back on track.

Anyway, I left Wal-Mart because, okay, I was fired for some reason. I moved in with my cousin here in Benton. At first I thought it was a nice little town, peaceful, the kind of town where you could leave your windows open at night and your doors unlocked. Then I started to notice something. A bunch of Rainbow colored flags started to appear around downtown. That kind of bothered me.

Then a friend of mine informed me that he was taking his son out of the local academy because the school board was allowing them transgender kids to go there. I asked how many were going there, cause I figured it was kind of silly to pull your kid out for just one confused little boy. I was shocked when he said three.. then I talked to a fellow called Mr. Smith down at the local beer joint. And he said the same thing that the left was taking over this town. It just like the good people at Fox News said, the left was tearing at the very fabric of the American Dream.

And well I thought Mississippi would never turn, but I was wrong. In the last four years this has gone to hell. First Tate Reeves, our governor if you can call him that, has seen it fit to remove the stars and bars from our state flag. Mississippi has always been proud of her Confederate heritage and removing the stars and from the state's flag was just spitting in the face of their proud memory! And that is not the worst of it, Tate Reeves has also legalized the growing and selling of “Medical Marijuana” in the so called “Mississippi Medical Cannabis Act” and finally they have started selling lottery tickets.

Now all this is supposed to be good for the state and sure he's getting tough on them Transgender folks, but damn, it like Mr. Smith said, all the things I listed above are weeds in our garden. There the first leaks in the dam. What will the next ten or twenty years bring? What kind of future will my son have?
And worst yet, this town has just elected its first woman mayor? And to rub salt into the wound. She is a firm supporter of the LGBTQ+ crowd. Hell I think she even is one and I know her little sister is one of them transgender folks too! I'm going to say this, and you can mark my words. Soon, the South will rise again and the former Confederate states will once more band together and throw off the chains of this hated union! Mark my words, and are ready. And when it happens, I hope Donald J. Trump will become president!