• Coconut Water Dangers – Is “Big Coconut” Determined to Make Your Daughter Have Same Sex Encounters?

    December 26, 2011 12:47 pm 14 comments

    The body is a temple and testament of His Glory. What goes into the body can have a marked effect on what comes out. As Christians we avoid alcohol, drugs, Zumba and other radical tribal-sexual exercises by sticking to a diet of wholesome foods like cured meats and heartland potatoes to honor the gift of life. When we defile the temple, we defile the spirit.

    “Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies.” – 1 Corinthians 6:19-20

    Coconut water, the internal water from un-ripened coconuts, does not honor the temple.

    In the past five years or so, “Big Coconut” has slowly invaded the cultural landscape. Timidly at first, the beverage leaked into the yoga counter culture. Of course those hippy trippy, water-tank birthing types lapped up the nut juices with a side of dirty chia greens and tahini dressing. As long as the dangers were confined to the down-dogging limber-Jacks and Janes, it posed little danger. But due to célèbre-taint endorsements the popularity of the unnatural beverage has grown. When it begins polluting the after service buffet tables, intervention is necessary.

    The dangers of coconut water are well documented. The Bermuda tourism council warns of coconuts dropping on tourists’ heads as being more likely than a shark attack, but remain silent on the moral hazard that drinking the water from a young, green coconut poses. In addition to allergic reactions, one most will likely experience:

    • Light headedness

    • Ankle elevation

    • Skin flushing

    • Rippling tremors in the lower abdomen

    • Loss of orientation leading to same sex encounters

    On a micro level, these very serious side effects are certainly enough to give anyone pause, but the macro view is a moral outrage. Combining the verified statistical data regarding the increased frequency of same sex encounters for young women (aged 17-19) with the consumption of coconut water for the same time period, the determination of “Big Coconut” to defile our young women and leave them unfit for marriage becomes clear. This is cultural warfare designed to shake the foundation of the marriage like a 50¢ vibrating bed in a roadside motel.

    While many may dismiss my well sourced concerns as histrionics or menopausal whipsaw activism, I am certain of these truths. For you see, although I have a personal testimony and witnessing in faith that clearly shows both the dangers and redemption possible, I also understand that many of our young people have not the faith to endure such tribulations.

    During my stint as a youth missionary living in the Caribbean, I first became aware of the dangerous allure of the green nut elixir called coconut water. Living with three other Christian women, aged 17-19, my sole purpose was to educate the underprivileged by melding with their culture and touching the physical needs of the people in order to address their deeper spiritual needs and genetic lack of work ethic.

    Our youth ministry leader, Jebediah, found a needy, isolated beachfront community through an internet IRC bulletin board and thought a missionary trip would be difficult, yet fulfilling work. Upon his recommendation and since the travel and board were ‘free’ Mother and Daddy agreed to my participation.

    As a sheltered young woman from Appalachia, I had never traveled so far. Jebediah served as chaperone and videotaped us constantly – capturing us praying together before meals, doing chores, standing in the blue-green waters with sea foam sticking to our golden brown thighs, anointing each other’s bodies with soothing aloe after a day in the sun or even as we emerged from the primitive outdoor shower. He would review his mission work documentation on the Betamax tapes nightly, as the rhythmic thumping of the small generator outside his private hut indicated.

    We were first introduced to coconut water after acclimating to island life. Sabra, one of the indigent locals that Jebediah befriended, brought coconuts to our hut for us to try. Impoverished, she had only a thong to cover her lithe café latte body. Not wanting to make Sabra uncomfortable with her meager resources, Jebediah suggested we gals remove our bikini tops. We waited for him to setup his camera and sit with the pillow in his lap, in what had become his usual documentary director’s perch, before acquainting ourselves with our guest and trying this new beverage.

    I remember feeling very disoriented after sipping the cloudy liquid. The rest is blurred, as if gauze curtains were pulled over me. I remember softness, grasping a handful of hair, an exploring tug here and there with something wet tracing my body like a slug from the garden. The next day, still groggy, the other girls and I left for home.

    My memory of that experience faded, but I always felt something in the chain of events was missing. I have a very sharp mind for detail. Jebediah and the mission documentary he was working on to promote our faith in action were both absent from our church after that. I busied myself with finishing school. I also experienced a sudden burst in suitors that seemed to be very interested in double dates including one of the girls from mission. In college I met Mister Beecham and we fell in love. One of his unsaved fraternity brothers played Mister a VHS tape of same sex encounters set on a tropical island, claiming one of the girls looked strikingly similar to me. Of course it wasn’t me. One can’t play Betamax tapes on a VHS machine.

    I carelessly tossed these past trials behind me, until last Sunday when I noticed the coconut water offered for after service refreshment in the fellowship hall. Discussing the issue with Mister in the car, he admitted to trading his fraternity brother a knuckle sandwich for the tape and that coconut water was definitely part of the storyline. After Mister miraculously had the VHS tape digitized and copied to DVD format at the hour processing lab, I bravely reviewed its content. I had steeled myself for the worst, but kept my focus on the prize – clear cut, video evidence of the deviancy spurred by the lesbian liquid.

    I was not disappointed. It was all there, the confirmation I needed to take to the council. I watched closely for my doppelganger, finding her a marionette’s shadow to myself. Her jaw line was not as chiseled. Her nose had a snobbish, aquiline quality. She seemed primal and driven by an internal forge fueled by dark clumps of debased delights. The eyes were of similar color and shape, but wild and wanton with desire for other women. It was beyond me how anyone could confuse me with this ravenous raptor of same sex sin.

    I then knelt, quickly offering thanks and praise that the effect of coconut water didn’t overtake our long-ago mission work. I gave thanks that we had a church youth pastor with us to keep us safe from harm. I praised a all knowing Father that knows our heart, our beginning and ending, and humbly asked for the grace and forgiveness to seek the redemptive path. I prayed that the eyes of the Chris†Wire.org Fellowship Beverage Guild would be opened and they would see fit to discontinue offering coconut water after service.

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    About The Author
    Blanche Beecham "Blanche Beecham lends a soft, learned hand to the fourth estate with incite-full investigations on diverse topics such as Politics, Love, and Lifestyle. Her many years experience as a wife, mother, ladies book club president and financial auditor make her well suited to ferreting out the truth and giving it a sound shake." - Rev. Jackson Lee Whitebelley, Publisher and Editor of "The Incubator" - Follow me on Twitter! @BLANCHEBEECHAM

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