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Archive for the ‘God’ Category

I Sing of Firearms and a Paperback

Thursday, August 25th, 2016


I am still plugging away at The Aeneid. It’s like having a disease that goes into remission and comes back, over and over. It’s the herpes of literature.

I am around 60% of the way through it. I started the Mandelbaum translation over at the beginning because the Mackail translation I bought by mistake was so bad.

The boredom is crushing. Yesterday Virgil pulled one of the classics-author moves I hate the worst: he listed everyone who was going into a battle.

Do we really need this information? Do we really need to know that Warrior Queen Frisbee marched to war accompanied by columns of short-haired women who secretly dreamed of being police officers? Do we really need to know that King Phlebitis of Hydrangea wore the lionskin his grandfather Uvulus stole from the lair of Buttafuocus the Thracian Balrog? No, we do not. Not all details are essential, and that goes double when you’re making it all up.

Virgil is an astoundingly bad writer, and I don’t give him a pass. Sure, he lived a long time ago, but he didn’t invent writing. He had read works by other people. He had heard people tell stories orally. He knew what boredom and clumsy pacing were. He had Homer to learn from. He could have avoided Homer’s mistakes, but he decided to repeat them.

A week or so ago, I was inclined to forgive Virgil and look for the good in his work, but now I just want to smack him.

How do classics scholars stand their lives? I guess it’s not that bad once you’ve read everything in the catalog. It’s not like new classics are popping up every month.

I can understand why people became classics scholars decades ago. They were afraid of Vietnam and Korea. They had to stay in school in order to keep their draft deferments, and not everyone is smart enough or talented enough to get into something like engineering or music. If the alternative to reading Virgil were running around the jungle dodging bouncing Bettys and punji sticks, I guess Virgil would look pretty good. But how can people force themselves to study this stuff when the alternative is…a normal life doing something relatively interesting?

At the moment, Aeneas is about to go to war with the Italians. His ridiculous, childish gods are behind it. Zeus wants to help him, but Zeus doesn’t wear the pants on Olympus. His wife Juno is doing her best to get Aeneas killed. She has stirred the Italians up against him, hoping they’ll take him for a ride and fit him with a cement toga. She wants him whacked.

What is the point in worshiping these idiots if they’re just going to make you more miserable? It’s a complete ripoff. You can’t make them happy. If one of them likes you, the others hate you. They need family therapy, but they’re working their issues out on the Greeks instead.

Let’s give the real God his due; if he’s on your side, everyone in heaven is on your side. He doesn’t have a crazy wife who runs around behind his back, messing with the people he loves. Come to think of it, that sounds a lot like Satan. The devil is basically the Glenn Close character from Fatal Attraction, played by Liberace.

Shakespeare said hell had no fury like a woman scorned. He was wrong. That’s exactly the kind of fury it has. If Satan were a human woman, he’d be vandalizing our cars and calling us at work a hundred times a day. His apartment would be full of group photos with God’s face torn out of them.

No one is crazier or more tenacious than a jilted woman. They never show mercy, and they have no shame. It doesn’t bother them that their campaigns of vengeance make them socially radioactive and ridiculous.

I’m surprised a woman didn’t invent the suicide vest.

Aeneas doesn’t need Jupiter to help him conquer Rome. He needs Jupiter to slap his wife down. She’s a walking reality series. She should be tied to a rock with Prometheus, wearing an orange jumpsuit.

Okay. I feel a little better now.

I have Ovid on deck, and my copy of The Inferno is also ready when I need it. I don’t know what these books are like, but if they’re more entertaining than the phone book, they’ll be a big move up from Virgil.

No wonder I didn’t finish this stuff when I was in college. I forgive myself. I wonder if the serious students actually read this junk. Barack Obama and George Stephanopoulos were major grubs at Columbia; they were both in my class. I wonder if they read these books.

Maybe Obama read the books, and that’s the reason no one remembers him. He was in either the library or a padded room.

I think I may become the only person in history to complete the reading. I’ll bet the professors only read the Cliff’s Notes. Who would know the difference?

It’s too bad I didn’t realize the liberal arts weren’t for me. I thought high verbal test scores and some writing talent meant I had to take literature and writing courses. That was stupid.

I guess I did realize it, because I became a biology major the year before the deans and I agreed it was best I take a year off. But my family was driving me insane, and I had no study ethic to begin with, so that effort crashed and burned. Oh, well. It would have been nice to get into something I actually liked.

This experience is like the two years I spent learning salsa. I felt like a social failure because I hated to dance, so I took lessons, went to clubs, and even wrote extensive instructions. When it was over, I still didn’t care for dancing. I’m glad I’ll never have to do it again. I’m spending months reading the classics, and when I’m done, I will have conclusive proof that the classics are not my cup of nectar.

Maybe the brush I paint with is too broad; I don’t hate all old books. I like Voltaire, Rabelais, Shakespeare, Racine, Francois Villon, Marot, Moliere…it’s mainly the Greeks and Romans that make me want to carve an escape hatch into my skin from the inside.

I don’t like Dickens much. Windy. As I understand it, at least some of his works were published piecemeal in newspapers, so he had ample motivation to prolong them. Also, his work is depressing.

When I get done with Virgil, I may throw a party. Now that I think about it, it may take me so long that when I finish, Carnaval will be underway in Brazil. I could just hop on a plane. I wonder where I can get a giant papier-mache head around here.

Do not read Virgil. Okay, that was over the top. Read it once and then put it in your attic. It’s not entertaining. It’s not illuminating. You will not enjoy it. Get it done and move on.

I’m going to go take some Advil now.

Flagged for Removal

Friday, August 19th, 2016

Narrative Hits a Major Speed Bump

Today I’m thinking about the Nate Parker/Jean Celestin rape scandal.

There is a new movie called Birth of a Nation. The title is taken from an old D.W. Griffith movie which portrayed the Klan as a noble organization. I haven’t seen the original movie; I would guess that almost no one alive has. I don’t really know what’s in it. The movie is extremely long, and it’s not exactly popular. In the minds of the public, renting this movie would be like checking Mein Kampf out of the library.

The new movie is about the Nat Turner rebellion, about which I know little. A slave named Nat Turner decided that God had told him to rise up against white people, so he led a revolt in which slaves killed white people indiscriminately. Turner himself killed a woman by slugging her with a fence post. I’m all for slaves running away, using violence and theft if necessary, but going from farm to farm murdering women and children for pleasure isn’t emancipation; it’s just sadism.

The new movie was written by two young black men, Nate Parker and Jean Celestin. They are former Penn State wrestlers. In 1999, they had sex with a woman who was so drunk she was unconscious at least part of the time. They invited others to participate. Both were indicted for rape, and Celestin was convicted and spent six months in jail. Celestin appealed, and he was granted a new trial based on ineffective assistance of counsel. The victim refused to testify again, and the prosecutor dropped the case. Celestin has since claimed that he was “fully exonerated,” which is not an accurate way to describe what happened.

The victim was an honor student who went to college a year early. After the rape, she dropped out. She became a drug addict. She killed herself.

The bizarre thing about this is that Parker used an extremely self-righteous, insulting image to promote his movie. It’s a photo of his face in a noose made from the American flag. The message it appears to send, which may or may not be the intended victim, is that young black men are victims in America. Coming from a highly successful film director who got a free ride to college and then avoided conviction for gang-raping a white woman, that’s a little hard to stomach.

When I say “rape,” I am not saying he was convicted or that he can legally be referred to as a person who committed the crime of rape. I am saying that what he and Celestin did was rape under the common-sense dictionary definition. He had sex with someone who couldn’t consent because she was extremely drunk. Without real consent, in my mind, sex is rape, whether or not it satisfies the legal definition.

The perpetrators don’t deny that they penetrated the victim over and over–simultaneously–or that she was very drunk.

A lot of people are surely getting caught up in the legal niceties right now, and they are surely trying to make a case that what these men did wasn’t rape, but that draws attention away from the plain facts. They shared the body of a young woman who had consumed something like 13 shots of alcohol, and after the fact, they made her miserable by hiring a detective who posted pictures of her photo all over campus.

Can you support a person like that just because he wasn’t convicted, or because his conviction was reversed?

Rape is a strange crime, because it has levels and nuances. If you have sex with your wife twice in one in one night, consensually, and then during the third effort she withdraws her consent and you don’t comply immediately, that’s rape. It’s also rape if a bum grabs you off the sidewalk and violates you beside a dumpster. There are lots of shades in between these examples. Realistically, you can’t equate all rapists. The damage they do varies.

What Parker and Celestin did was unusually sick. The victim was barely conscious, and Parker went ahead anyway. That’s very bad. Then he invited his friends, as if her body were a pizza he wanted to share. That’s horrendous; inviting another man to violate a woman who barely knows him is vile. Then the victim was shamed publicly, as though she had committed a crime. That’s beyond the pale.

It’s disturbing that two men like this could be paid and lauded for making a movie which appears to be the latest in a series of race-baiting, anti-white films. It’s ironic that the poster depicts lynching. Many black men who were lynched in America were murdered because it was believed they had insulted or defiled white women. Now we have a director and screenwriter who fit that description, literally, and they’re using lynching imagery to make money.

It’s almost as if Satan is telling non-black America, “Look. You were right about them.”

Racial tension is out of control in America. I think Satan is poking both sides to stir things up. I think this movie and the scandal are parts of it. It’s polarizing.

Satan is doing a fantastic job on leftists and blacks. Black Lives Matters rioters just tore up Milwaukee over a case in which a black cop shot an armed black man who was clearly threatening him with a gun. They’re proving what most of us have suspected for a while: it’s not about police brutality. A justified shooting is still a good rationale for looting and violence. A large percentage of the “protesters” are just looking for an excuse to do evil to their neighbors.

Non-blacks are likely to use this senseless aggression as an excuse for anti-black racism. Even the least racist among us are likely to make changes in our behavior. This is not a good time to move to an area with a lot of black residents; who could be blamed for trying to locate elsewhere? It’s a scary time to reach out to black people and socialize with them in places where you’re outnumbered.

There are some types of race-motivated behavior you can control with laws. You can ban discrimination in hiring and selling, to some extent. There are also things you can’t control with laws. You can’t force white people to have black friends, or vice-versa. You can’t force people of one race to buy from people of another race. If things keep going the way they are, blacks and whites are going to segregate themselves in whatever ways are still legal. We’ve already seen black students advertising for “POC only” roommates, claiming the stress of living with whites is intolerable.

We should be building bridges. Instead, whites are on the receiving end of constant, open, unjustified criticism and rejection, and I guarantee you, they will retaliate silently. When whites can strike back without accountability, many do so. Look at the increase in racist Internet comments.

This mess is going to hurt black people. It won’t damage the rest of us that much. It won’t make people reluctant to hire us or associate with us. It won’t hurt our businesses. It will make it harder for black people to assimilate and succeed.

I don’t think there’s much hope for people who don’t serve God. For the rest of us, the answer is clear: identify with God’s family, not a race or nationality. If you’re a child of God, other children of God are your relatives and your race. Other people may look like you, but they’re against you.

Americans are flipping out over whether this person has the right to wear dreadlocks or that person has the right to rap. We ought to be concerned about aligning our hearts with God’s. Any two people whose hearts are aligned by God’s heart will live in agreement and peace. Discord is proof that something is wrong. God doesn’t fight with himself. His house is not divided. If we’re at each other’s throats, we’re not really of his house.

I don’t like the race-baiting movies. I don’t like the scary anti-black Internet comments. I don’t like the way we’re being censored by left-wing extremists. I think it will continue and get worse, though. The only hope of rising above it is submission to God.

Grow up and Win

Thursday, August 18th, 2016

Excuses are Poison

I got a great revelation today.

For a long time now, God has been teaching me that growth, not money or healing, is what Christianity is all about. God is a father, and he wants what every father wants: children who function correctly. Think about it, if you have kids. Do you sit around worrying that they won’t be rich? No. You worry that they’ll be dysfunctional idiots who end up on jail, dead, or on welfare. You worry that they’ll become bad people who can’t thrive and do good. God has the same concerns.

Correction is literally better than gold. There are a lot of disgusting, stupid, disgraceful people who have wealth. There are very few people who have their heads on straight.

God has shown me that my problems are generally my own fault. Even if someone else sins against me, I opened the door. People who conform to God’s design win their battles. If you’re a loser, God is not backing you up, and there’s a very good reason for that.

It sounds harsh. It is harsh. That doesn’t matter. It’s the truth, and you can’t change it. You have to work with the truth if you expect to succeed. You don’t make the rules of the universe. The sooner you accept responsibility for your problems, the sooner you will beat them.

I created my own enemies. I opened the door. I fed them. I bent the knee to them and thanked them for abusing me. People and spirits that might have had no interest in me at all but for my participation showed up in my life and abused me, and that’s on me. It’s also on them, but that shouldn’t matter to me. At judgment, God is not going to ask me about their sins. Not once.

When kids fight and their parents wade in, often one kid will say, “He started it.” Lazy parents don’t care who started it. They just care about shutting down the noise so they can flop back on the couch and watch Snooki. They say it doesn’t matter who started it. In reality, it matters. If you start a problem, you are primarily responsible. You start most of your own problems.

I knew all that. I also knew that the New Testament was different from the Old Testament in that Jesus criticized people’s attitudes as well as their actions and words. In the Old Testament, you just had to obey. That’s not good enough for Jesus. He criticized men for committing adultery in their hearts.

Is it fair to criticize people for things they merely want to do? Yes. If the Holy Spirit is available to change them, and they haven’t taken him up on it. Under the new covenant, we have access to the Holy Spirit, in a way that wasn’t available before the crucifixion. We are supposed to be baptized with the Holy Spirit, and we are supposed to pray in tongues and subdue our flesh and our minds. So yes, Jesus was not out of line when he criticized our desires.

When you put all this together, you get the revelation God gave me today: we are held accountable for our inclinations.

We are held accountable for our inclinations.

That sounds discouraging, if you have no faith in the Holy Spirit’s ability and willingness to change your heart. If you have that faith, then it’s an open door. It’s one of the greatest messages you’ll ever hear.

Jesus said he came to set the captives free. The Jews thought he was talking about kicking the Romans out. Christians think he only meant he was freeing people from hell. He wasn’t concerned about the Romans, because the rebellion of the Jews put them in place. He was referring to salvation from hell, but that’s not all he was referring to. He was referring to freedom from sinful inclinations and compulsions.

Paul talks about this. He says we are slaves to sin. We give up our free will through rebellion, and we become unable to do right. Powerful inclinations fill us, and we can’t resist them.

The Holy Spirit can undo that. This is what we should focus on, instead of pretending God will give us money for supporting embarrassing, heartless imbecile preachers with helicopters and palaces.

God does not hold people accountable for things over which they have no power. Because he holds us accountable for our inclinations, we know we have power over them through the Holy Spirit. We should be taking it upon ourselves to avail ourselves of his help, but we’re too busy not judging and pretending to love each other more than we really do.

Jesus said no man born of woman was greater than John the Baptist, but he also said he that was least in the kingdom of heaven was greater than John. That’s because Pentecost hadn’t come in John’s time. John had to fight using his own power. The Holy Spirit didn’t live in him around the clock, cleaning and restructuring. We live under a different set of principles. We have power John didn’t have, and because we don’t use it, we live in defeat.

I try to do what is right, but because I see and hear my own thoughts, I know I’m still filthy inside. Some things are fixed. There are other things I have to cope with through willpower, and I fail from time to time. The knowledge that God wants to fix my remaining issues is a huge relief.

Here is what Satan says, through Christians: “You’re so judgmental. You’re going to drive people away. Who are you to say these things?” I hear it all the time. Most Christians in the US love sin and spiritual laziness. They don’t want to change, and they love excuses. They love attacking anyone who gives them good advice. The Jews in the time of Jesus were the same way. It’s why they had him killed. It’s why they murdered the prophets with their own hands.

You can have your excuses or you can have victory and peace.

If you want your life to improve, focus on getting your heart and mind fixed. Otherwise, you’re just making things worse. You’re coating yourself with a bulletproof crust of denial, and you will wear it until you die.

Think about this, and put it to work. Stop sending money to vampires with cable TV shows. Give up your bitterness toward God, and stop blaming him for your suffering. Stop blaming other people. Close the door, and get God to clean your house. Confess everything you can think of.

This is the plan we gave up during the Dark Ages. It’s still on the table. You just have to choose it.

Don’t Consider the Air

Wednesday, August 17th, 2016

Consider the Balloon

During prayer today I had a very simple revelation, and I was glad to get it, so I’m bringing it here.

I’m always talking about the way America has become the tail and not the head (if you don’t know what that means, open a Bible once in a while). People who used to run from us now have us on the run. Things are upside down. Citizens of other countries come here and push us around and vote in our elections. Sexual deviants get us fired from jobs or have our businesses closed down. Losers and criminals hold “protests” which are really excuses for racist crimes and looting, and we bend the knee and apologize.

We don’t have God’s favor any more.

I think about this principal a lot, in relation to my own life. The closer I get to God, the more problems fall away from me. People who used to drive me crazy are removed from my circle. Problems I couldn’t beat disappear. What’s happening to me is the opposite of what’s happening to my country.

Here is one of the worst forms of defeat: debt. It’s slavery. If you don’t believe it, check the Bible: “The rich ruleth over the poor, and the borrower is servant to the lender.” The word translated “servant” in the KJV means “household slave,” but if you disagree, well, isn’t “servant” bad enough?

When you borrow, you take things you haven’t earned. That means you have to keep working in order to pay for them. A person who has no debt can walk off his job in an instant, singing a Johnny Paycheck tune on the way out. A debtor has to take all sorts of abuse, and he may be pressured to do immoral or distasteful things in order to hold onto his position.

A slave is a person who doesn’t have the leverage to quit or say no. A debtor is no different. They are prisoners without cages.

Americans don’t see it that way. They think, “Wow, I have a new bass boat and a 300-inch TV so I can watch the Kardashians!” They don’t think about slavery.

I considered marrying a debtor. I must have been having a psychotic episode. I never thought to check. I was stupid. I was willing to walk into a bear trap, blindfolded.

If I had married a slave, I would have become a slave. Her debts would have been on my back, instantly.

Slavery is a funny thing; it’s like electricity. If you make contact with another person, it may run from them into you.

I don’t borrow. I would rather have a $15000 car and pay cash than drive a Mercedes that belongs to someone else. I have no interest in leasing, either. Freedom is too important to me. It may be questionable financial practice, but I have no regrets.

This week I saw a website saying Obama had jacked our collective debt up to $19 trillion. That’s debt we all have, whether we agreed to it individually or not. We owe China. We owe other nations. We even owe ourselves; we have a bizarre system in which we allow ourselves to buy our own debt, with imaginary money.

We are a nation of slaves. That’s the revelation God gave me.

Borrowing unnecessarily is a bad thing. It puffs you up and makes you think you’re a bigger deal than you are. Our roads are full of cars driven by people who can’t afford them. A big car with a note on it makes you look blessed, but to get it, you have to put a curse on yourself.

Borrowing is a way of cursing yourself in order to fake a blessing.

The Bible says God brings wealth without remorse. Here is Proverbs 10:22: “The blessing of the Lord makes one rich, And He adds no sorrow with it.” If you’re borrowing in order to look successful, expect sorrow.

Every so often, I see a nice car on the back of a Jerr-Dan truck. It was more common back when the stock market crashed. I’m sure one or two of those cars had mechanical problems, but usually, a nice car on the back of a truck is a repo. Someone couldn’t pay his bills, and the real owner took the car back, in front of the neighbors. That’s what will happen at judgment. A lot of people–especially prosperity preachers–will come before God with pride and thick resumes, and God will put their ill-gotten trinkets on his truck and take them away. Metaphorically.

That’s no way to live.

America is sitting on a pile of wealth it can’t pay for. Sooner or later, there will be a bill. Then we’ll find out how well our new economics really works.

A funny thing about debt is that it makes you feel better…until it makes you feel worse. It makes you weak, but it makes you look and feel strong. We’re already poor. We only lack the appearance of poverty. That encourages us to keep borrowing.

Here is how the universe works: every once in a while, a servant who hates his position and has no patience overthrows his master, takes what he has, and stands on top of him crowing like an idiot. Then order reasserts itself, the master is restored, and the servant is way worse off than he was to begin with. That’s the story of Satan and God. It’s the story of debt. If you don’t serve God, it’s your story, too.

God will not be mocked. He always balances the books. He is patient, but if you don’t work with him, sooner or later, you will pay what you owe, plus a penalty for disobedience.

I have a few loose ends in my life, and I’m fixing them up. Thank God, they amount to nearly nothing. I’m glad I don’t wake up every day realizing I have to go and do something I hate in order to pay for, say, a car I already wrecked. I wish America were as safe as I am.

If you want to be blessed, give yourself completely to God and keep praying in order to become aligned with his will. Giving money to TBN leeches won’t help you; it will make things worse. Your own schemes won’t help. You have to come by what you have in the correct way.

By the way, I have something that will be very helpful to you. I like to play Christian music all day; I even play it in my bedroom when I’m not around. Yesterday I pasted a bunch of MP3’s together to create one 10-hour long file, and I put it on a DVD. If you do this, you can put it in a disk player and keep the music going all day. You could also leave a Christian radio station playing, but a lot of their material is just worthless dance music. I bought five Julie True albums, and that’s what I use. Try it for three days. You’ll understand why I like it.

If you play her music around people who dislike God, it makes them very uncomfortable. It’s something to see.

It will be interesting to see what happens as Americans reap what they’ve sown. It’s already interesting, but it will get more intense.

Hope this is useful to you. Let me know.

Trolling Jesus

Friday, August 12th, 2016

This Will not End Well

I can’t seem to learn from my mistakes! Today I looked at The Drudge Report again.

I found a link to a story about Oklahoma Satanists. They are planning to rent out a hall and have a blasphemous ceremony called “the Consumption of Mary.” I looked it up, and the reference I found–probably Wikipedia–said it involves putting a statue of Mary inside a triangle, dancing around it, cracking the head off, and eating a pig heart which has been concealed inside it. Yes, adults do this.

I completely understand atheists. The world is messed up, so they think it’s impossible for a good God to exist. A thinking person could take that position, wrong though it is. But what’s with people who believe in God and choose to hate him? How is that supposed to pay off in the end?

Why do they hate Christians so much? Is it because we run so many charities and fund so many hospitals? Is it because we believe in forgiveness and love? What, exactly, are we doing that gets under their skins?

When you work hard on creating an extremely offensive ceremony like the Consumption of Mary, you clearly have cruelty issues. You’re not looking for a peaceful way to express your views. You’re looking to torment people you dislike. You know there are emotional Christians out there who will lose their minds over your actions, and you delight in making them suffer.

A lady named Mary K. Baxter wrote a fascinating book in which she claimed she had been given a tour of hell. She said there were people there who were extremely disappointed in Satan. Maybe I shouldn’t put it so flippantly. She said there were people there who, during their lives, seriously thought Satan could defeat God, and that Satan would reward them with kingdoms of their own. They arrived in hell and were shocked to learn that Satan doesn’t keep his promises.

Is that the mindset of the unfortunate Satanists in Oklahoma? Is Satan their crooked retirement counselor?

If you believe Satan is real, you probably believe a lot of what the Bible says about him. The Bible says he’s a liar, and it also says God defeats him effortlessly, whenever he wants. How could you put your faith in a loser like that?

I am more disturbed by what’s happening in the hearts of the Satanists than by the ceremony itself. Mary is in paradise, and despite what some Catholic drivers may believe, she is not in a statue. You can’t put a pig heart in her. You can’t trap her in “the Triangle of Solomon.” I’m not worried about Mary, nor am I worried about the harm the ceremony will do to Christians (i.e. none).

Some people get very upset by sacrilegious acts directed toward objects. It doesn’t rattle me that much. If you want to burn Bibles or pee on crosses, I will be offended, but I will go on with my life. I wouldn’t do anything if I saw a demonstrator burning a statue of Christ. Statues and Bibles are things; viewing them as more than that is a gateway to idolatry. Muslims think the Koran IS God, and there are many, many Muslims who would kill anyone who harmed a copy. That’s not me. As long as you pay for them, burn all the Bibles you want. You’re supporting Christian publishers.

The rot in the hearts of Satanists is the real problem. They love evil and lies so much, these things are walls and strongholds to them. A person who doesn’t live in a stronghold of deception can be reached with reason and love. Once the walls go up, only supernatural warfare can bring them down, and most of the time, even that won’t work.

Here’s something else that disturbs me: Satanists use supernatural tools to fight Christians, and we fight back by carrying signs and making Internet comments. Occultists have way more faith than we do. They rely less on carnal tools. They know curses and prayers to fallen spirits work. We think relying on prayer is lazy or unrealistic; we actually criticize Christians who pray instead of “doing something.”

We should be praying and repenting all day. That would fix the problem. I don’t think those “Jesus rules” signs are going to help much.

Over the last day I’ve been thinking about myself and America a lot. I’ve noticed that the more I’ve turned to God, the more problems have fallen away from me. Even silly things, like the strange little flies that used to breed in my shower. I couldn’t get rid of them; nothing worked. They buzzed around me for years, and then one day I realized I hadn’t seen them in a very long time.

Defying God causes problems in life. They won’t be obvious to people who are spiritually blind, but they do pop up. Defying God gives your enemies power. They can go before God and get permission to defeat and abuse you. Defiance will make you sink lower and lower, and you will start to find that people and beings you used to defeat easily walk all over you.

This is what’s happening to America. Satanists aren’t using public buildings to hold ceremonies because we don’t wave signs or because our views on tolerance have “evolved.” They’re doing it because our defiance gave them power. They have God’s permission to do it.

It’s not just Satanists. It’s jihadis, illegal aliens, black racists, gays, enraged feminists, socialists, and every other type of confused, spirit-infested individual.

I love being raised up past my problems. It’s terrific. I want more of it. But it seems like America sinks while I rise. If that has to be true, then I’m fine with it. I can’t carry people with me, and there is no way I’m going to join them in defeat. But I do wish it weren’t happening.

We have a president who was raised by communists, and one of his best friends is a terrorist who admits he’s guilty. A person like that shouldn’t be able to get a job as a TSA agent, let alone as chief executive. We knew what he was, and we chose him over a war hero and a competent governor. People like Obama could not get traction in the past. God slapped them down. God doesn’t do that as much as he used to. The ground underneath us has changed, because we think we are the source of our own blessings.

The people I used to natter and grumble with in the conservative Blogosphere are chasing their tails. For the most part, they’re just making things worse. They think we need this carnal solution or that carnal solution. It won’t help. When God is against you, there is no rock big enough for you to hide under. He is the worst enemy you can possibly have. There is absolutely no way to stop him.

Inside God, there is complete protection and peace. Outside of him, everything is margarine and saccharine. Everything that appears good is poisonous.

I’m getting used to the stories about sacrilege and blasphemy. Obsessing on problems you can’t change is a curse. I just wish people would turn around before it’s too late. I know most of them won’t. It’s a certainty.

Whoever you are, and whatever you’ve done, the door is open to you. The sooner you apply, the better off you will be.

Good Morning, Heaving Pukes

Thursday, August 11th, 2016

I Miss Newspapers

I really have to quit checking the news as soon as I wake up.

Today I awoke and checked Drudge. I found a link to a story containing another link to a 2015 Milo Yiannopoulous story (I don’t even care if I spelled that right) about the destruction of the Nick Denton online empire. I went through a typical daisy chain of links, from one story to the next. By the time it was over, I felt sick to my stomach.

I’m not one of those people who say they feel sick to their stomachs when they really don’t. I mean I felt physical nausea.

Nick Denton created a site called Fleshbot. It was a porn site. I have certainly looked at porn, but I don’t know much about Fleshbot, except that it was very successful. Porn dealers are like drug dealers; their audiences can’t control themselves, so they keep showing up. It’s not hard to get rich selling something people can’t turn down.

Denton went on to create a bunch of oddly named sites that did well: Gizmodo, Gawker, Jezebel, Jalopnik, and Wonkette (possibly the most famous fake blog in history) are among them.

I’m not positive Fleshbot came first. You can check.

Anyway, the Denton conglomerate was (and is) a very sleazy operation. It exudes slime.

As everyone knows, Hulk Hogan killed the Nick Denton cancer. Hogan was videotaped committing adultery, and Gawker either published or linked to the video. Gay billionaire Peter Thiel, who had been outed by Denton, backed a lawsuit. Hogan won, and Denton was handed a fatal multimillion-dollar judgment, which is being enforced.

I’m going to check this time…I was right…YIANNOPOULOS made a list of people who should also sue Denton. It’s quite impressive.

Denton’s crew published a story about a man named Geithner–not a public figure, according to…Mr. Y….and suggested he hired a gay prostitute. They accused actor James Franco of raping a man. They helped leak a Quentin Tarantino script before the movie was produced. They published a lot of nude celebrity photos obtained from criminals. They published voyeur photos of the genitals of male athletes, without the consent of the athletes. Imagine how their wives and kids must feel.

The Internet tends to make people feel invincible, and it brings out their cruelty and arrogance. Denton’s lackeys developed a pattern of tormenting people online, for amusement as well as money, and as far as I know, the Denton apparatus has never expressed significant regret or a serious inclination to examine itself and make corrections.

The Yiannopoulos story appeared on the Breitbart site (Breitbart, himself, was no paragon of dignity or kindness), and the Breitbart site contains links to disturbing social media posts. It’s also full of poisonous comments from people on both sides of the political spectrum. I kept clicking, and I ended up reading a Slate story which was so mean-spirited I decided it should be my final destination for the morning.

The Slate article’s title: “The Heaving Pukes Who Write Gawker and Wonkette.”

This is public discourse in 2016. Slate is not a Blogspot site written by a tipsy anonymous accountant who likes to knock a few back after a ten-hour workday. It’s not a tabloid site. It’s the 2016 equivalent of a 1985 magazine you might have found in supermarkets.

“Heaving Pukes.”

The amazing conclusion I drew from my few minutes of websurfing was that I had underestimated the vileness of the Internet.

That makes sense, when I think about it. The godless leftist side of the Internet, which makes up maybe 80% of the bandwidth these days, is much more vile than the rest of the web. I have never been inclined to spend time on leftist sites. Even when I was behaving badly myself, I was put off by the astounding obscenity and cruelty of the leftist Internet. That means I didn’t get a representative sample of the Internet’s content. As bad as my experience was, it was filtered.

Many people have spent more time reading godless garbage than I have, and a lot of them don’t mind it. They don’t mind when a lesbian crazy threatens to sexually mutilate a conservative writer with her teeth. It doesn’t bother them when someone threatens to have sex with another person’s dead skull. Cruelty and filth bring them pleasure. They titter and smirk.

That’s what America is good at these days; tittering and smirking. We are losing our manufacturing capacity, but we have the Internet, The Family Guy, South Park, Deadpool, and The Hangover.

Man, this place is sick. And of course, I used to contribute to the sickness. I sowed; now I’m reaping.

People need to step back and think about what they’re making of themselves. This is not going to end well. And even if there were no lawsuits or other worldly repercussions to think about, what about the inward cost? What about the penalty of simply being the kind of person who swims gladly in a world of vomit?

To Shakespeare, the worst price a villain paid was to be a villain. People don’t understand that concept. Do you really want to wake up at the age of 60, hung over, in a bed that smells like cigarette ashes, with no real friends and nothing to show for yourself except herpes and a monument built from congealed bile? That’s the future for Internet denizens who love hate.

Unless you’re mentally ill–maybe even then–you can’t hate other people habitually without coming to hate yourself. Hate is a habit that operates without your conscious consent, and when you don’t give it a target, it will find one for itself. When you’re not ideating about cruelty to others, you will find yourself inwardly contemning and ridiculing the creature you have made of yourself.

You will be right.

America is like a hate slingshot. With the help of the Internet, we have been building up hate energy. We have been embracing, approving, and feeding our cruelty. We have outed ourselves as cruel, the way gays out themselves as gay, and like gays, we’re proud of what we are. We are pulling the slingshot pouch back. One day we’re going to release it without the buffers of keyboards and monitors. We will act directly, with our hands and feet, not just our words. We are being turned into the kind of people who can put other people in gulags and death camps.

Where do you turn when the world rains burning sulfur? Earth didn’t come with an escape pod. There is no natural shelter. When America turns into a killing field, there will be no other America to flee to. This was the last refuge. You better give yourself to God and find his protection while you still can. You’re not going to develop that kind of relationship with him overnight. It’s time to get started. It may be too late to get everything you need.

I feel like turning the Internet off and going to live in a hole, but the hate culture has penetrated TV and daily life, so it wouldn’t protect me completely. Increasingly, the world is an extension of the Internet. What do you see when you turn on the news now? Tweets, Facebook posts, and Internet videos. You might as well plug into the Matrix and stop eating solid food.

America is not going to change for the better, but you are not America. You can take measures that will affect yourself and your family. I plan to keep moving forward. What’s behind me is not worth the trouble of turning around.

My God is Better Than Yours

Wednesday, August 10th, 2016

You Can Have Zeus

I am taking the day off.

Monday and Tuesday were not pleasant at all. I am still working on getting my dad’s business straight, and I am also taking care of my own loose ends. Today I just want to level off and relax.

I took my problems to God this morning, and as always, he was helpful. He reminded me that voices of worry and stress don’t come from him. They are lies. My father above, who is in control, has told me things are going to be fine, and he keeps living up to his word. There is no point in allowing lies from other sources to rattle me.

When I was younger, I worried about bad things happening to me, and sometimes they happened. Usually I was wrong, but I had some serious failures. Life isn’t like that any more. Things work out. My problem isn’t problems; my problem is doing a poor job of receiving the peace that comes from knowing my problems are fixed.

Writing that, I feel like FDR. He said, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” He wasn’t really correct, though, as a lot of World War Two’s victims could tell you if they were alive. He was just trying to make people feel better. What I’m saying is true, because I have someone who backs it up.

I’m going to be fine. I’m not going to be poor. Peace and success will increase. I will get more and more inner healing. My character will improve. God’s help will flow more freely. I will feel better.

God makes it happen, not just because I say he does, but because he says he does, and because I am submitting to him instead of demanding favors while living in rebellion.

It took me many years to build the stronghold of bad habits and wrong thinking. It’s not taking nearly that long to tear it down and build God’s stronghold in its place. Of course, this time, someone stronger is doing most of the work for me.

Once again, I have to say I’m glad I’m not involved in the political demolition derby any more. It was a source of frustration and anger.

I used to love being a self-appointed conservative Internet avenger, linking to other blogs, writing vitriolic essays, and posting silly memes. It’s nice to be out of it. It’s nice to realize that fixing myself is more important and productive than fixing the country. It’s better to focus on the roots than the leaves.

America is dying. I suppose it’s good that there are carnal people out there making themselves miserable, trying to slow down the disease’s progression. Thank God I’m not one of them.

I’ve finally received some control over my participation in Internet squabbles. I haven’t been writing much political stuff here, but I still felt an irresistible urge to comment on news stories. This week I’ve been deleting my comments. That means the deluded and vicious people I argued with will “win.” That’s okay. Should I even have to tell myself that? Sane, healthy people don’t lie awake at night thinking the world will end if they give up a flame battle attached to a story on The Washington Post’s website.

The devil is a square dance caller, and he pairs people up on the Internet so they can dance for him. Like most square dancers, they go in circles. I don’t want to do-si-do with Amanda Marcotte, Andrew Sullivan, or Ann Coulter’s slavish fans. Those people are trapped in a sick fantasy world where nothing improves. It’s a video game, and Satan keeps resetting it.

I have accepted the fact that I have to support Donald Trump. After McCain and Romney, Trump is an easy pill to swallow. The alternative is unthinkable. It’s amazing that America has sunk to the point where we are seriously considering making Hillary Clinton the commander-in-chief. Who’s next? Rod Blagojevich? Al Sharpton? Charles Manson?

If I were still involved in political blogging, I’d probably create a T-shirt with Hillary’s photo on it and big text reading “TRUMP FOR PRESIDENT.”

Hillary may lose, but even if she does, sooner or later we are going to be ruled by extremely slimy, disagreeable leftists. We are going to be humiliated the same way the Russians and Cubans were. Trashy individuals who couldn’t hold jobs at McDonald’s will show up at our homes with guns to tell us our property belongs to the people. They will sit in our offices at our former businesses, running them into the ground. People who were complete losers in a fair capitalist system will have titles and goons, and we will bend the knee to them, just as Jews bent the knee to Egyptians, Babylonians, Greeks, Romans, and Nazis.

I’ll be very grateful if Trump buys us a four-year delay; eight years would be an unexpected bonanza.

I don’t think Trump will be as bad as his opponents predict. When the responsibility of the office hits him in the face, he will surely take off his clown shoes and work to make his administration a success.

I never communicate with conservative bloggers. I mean, not one. I never look at their blogs. The last one I looked at was The Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler. I used to love that blog. Last time I looked at it, I found it disturbing. I don’t want to share that kind of impotent fury any more.

In other news, the savage blow I took from The Aeneid still has me “bug-winding,” as people in Kentucky used to say. We don’t hear that expression enough. “Get off my porch, or I’ll knock you bug-winding.” I was something like 40% into Mackail’s horrific translation when I realized I was reading the wrong book. I got the Mandelbaum translation, and it was so much better, I decided it was best to start over. I think I’m on page 70-something out of 400.

Aeneas and Ulysses had to endure long, painful journeys filled with bloodshed and frustration. At times they felt they would never get where they were going. I can totally relate. I believe I’ve been working on this one-week reading assignment for a month. Or maybe it just seems like a month.

I’m still disgusted by the Greeks. I know Virgil was a Roman, but I think he captured the Greeks as well as Homer and the other Greek writers did. The Greeks were gung-ho about things like rape, enslavement, pillage, arson, and murder. They loved invading other people’s countries and destroying them. They were horrible people. But they loved calling each other stupid things like “pious” and “guiltless.”

What kind of religion calls you pious and guiltless while you’re running around murdering everyone you see?

The weird thing about the Greeks in the classics is that they moan and whine about the suffering that comes from war, while they’re in the midst of initiating or prolonging it. They’re just like the Crips and the Bloods. They want pity and admiration for self-inflicted misery.

The Olympics are in session right now; it’s a good time to comment on the Greeks. Like Olympic athletes, the Greeks were obsessed with things that have no real importance; things that do not last. If you criticize the Olympics, people treat you like you kicked a puppy, but the whole thing is a misguided festival full of neurotics and self-worshipers, and at night, it’s an orgy.

I don’t really care who runs a hundred meters the fastest. I can’t believe anyone can make a living doing that. I can’t believe people will make you rich for pole vaulting or lifting a barbell.

How can any woman be proud she spent six hours a day for twelve years, learning how to hop around on a balance beam? Think of the things she could have done with that time. She could have learned four languages. She could have learned to play and compose music. She could have had a social life.

What do you do at age 25, when your world-class gift no longer exists? Hello, public speaking! I guess. “Here’s a motivational story about something unimportant I did not nearly as well as today’s athletes, back before I gained sixty pounds…”

Here’s an interesting thing the Olympics and the games in the Greek classics have in common: they produced a lot of losers and very few winners. People love to say it’s a great honor to represent your country in the Olympics, and that no one really minds losing. That’s not very credible. No one who doesn’t mind losing has the temperament to exchange childhood and a normal hormonal profile for a chance at some plated medals. Top athletes can’t stand to lose. It haunts them.

When a huge number of people engage in an activity and nearly all of them emerge as dejected losers, it seems to me that it’s an indication that it’s not a good investment of time. Imagine what it would be like if you could feel all the heartbreak inside the Olympic athletes as they participate in the cruel closing ceremony.

P.S.: doping. Everyone since about 1965 gets an asterisk.

We took our unfortunate love of sports from the Greeks. I’m glad we’re not quite as vain and shallow in all areas of life.

I don’t care all that much what happens to Aeneas. He’s a miserable, violent, greedy, vain person. Reading about conflicts between the ancient warriors is like watching a boxing match between John Wayne Gacy and Ted Bundy. None of them deserve to win. A good ending to their stories would be to see their slaves revolt and put them in prison.

Ovid is next. The book I ordered is here. I took a look, and it doesn’t look too bad. Virgil is not a hard act to follow, though. After the tale of blameless Aeneas, Naomi Wolf would seem like a vacation.

I still dread Cervantes.

Nation of Hellraisers

Monday, August 8th, 2016

You Become What You Love

Someone directed me to an article about Popes Benedict and Francis. I looked it over. Popes are not really within my areas of interest. I see them as distractions, outside the will of God.

It reminded me of one of the major problems with denominations that exalt human beings: they discourage the rest of us from connecting with God directly.

God never wanted us to have popes and special people called “saints.” That’s not how the kingdom of heaven works. It’s not a system with lots of levels, like the military. In God’s kingdom, there is God, and then down one level, there is you. That’s how it’s supposed to work. The Bible calls us his children, not his grandchildren.

In the Bible, the Greek word translated “saint” just means “person who belongs to God.” It doesn’t mean you can pull rabbits out of a hat or turn water into Pepsi.

I used to go to Trinity Church in Miami, and then I attended a place called New Dawn. Both were screwed up. They exalted preachers above everyone else. They gave people the ideas that preachers were closer to God than they were, and that this was okay. It’s not okay. It’s not even a little bit okay.

Many preachers want to be worshiped. They want to be little gods to their flocks. They have teams of people who screen them from the masses. They keep their distance, except when they pop out to act for the cameras and convince people to send money or give them obedience.

At the churches I went to, “submission to authority” was the excuse. A centurion told Jesus he was a man under authority, so somehow, preachers turned that into a basis for Kommandant status. Preachers turn themselves into emperors. Criticize the emperor, and he tells the flock to ostracize you. He says God will curse you, although the real curse is being under a little man with delusions of grandeur. He stands in front of the people and says, “Touch not my anointed and do my prophets no harm,” with no understanding of the word “anointed.”

The big cheese at Trinity had secret meetings about me when I left. When someone reported my Facebook account and got it canceled, the pastor at New Dawn put up a status that said, “God don’t like ugly.” I am completely serious. These characters questioned other people about me behind my back, as if merely knowing me were treason.

One preacher approached a friend of mine in the church parking lot and started yelling at him about me, waving his fingers in his face. My friend threatened to defend himself with a beating. Someone who was afraid the cops would get involved called me about it and asked if I could help.

When Moses was in charge of the Hebrews, some men prophesied without informing him first. Joshua, fancying himself the hall monitor of the Hebrew people, ran to Moses to tattle. Here’s the story, from Numbers 11:

But two men had remained in the camp: the name of one was Eldad, and the name of the other Medad. And the Spirit rested upon them. Now they were among those listed, but who had not gone out to the tabernacle; yet they prophesied in the camp. And a young man ran and told Moses, and said, “Eldad and Medad are prophesying in the camp.”

So Joshua the son of Nun, Moses’ assistant, one of his choice men, answered and said, “Moses my lord, forbid them!”

Then Moses said to him, “Are you zealous for my sake? Oh, that all the Lord’s people were prophets and that the Lord would put His Spirit upon them!”

Now we know he was prophesying about the baptism with the Holy Spirit, which most Christians will never receive. They don’t ask for it, or they think they already have it.

Look what Moses said. “Is your zeal for me, or for God?” That says it all.

Here is what Paul said about worshiping preachers:

Now I say this, that each of you says, “I am of Paul,” or “I am of Apollos,” or “I am of Cephas,” or “I am of Christ.” Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul?

I thank God that I baptized none of you except Crispus and Gaius, lest anyone should say that I had baptized in my own name.

When a church tells you popes, “saints,” or priests have something you can’t have, they lie to you and keep you defeated. They put you to sleep so you don’t reach your potential. They convince you it’s okay to do as you please all week, as long as you show up on Sunday, like a pair of dirty underwear headed for the washing machine. You don’t have to be good; the priests do that for you.

Every one of us is supposed to be dedicated to God, and every one of us is supposed to have victory in life.

If Popes were truly anointed, they wouldn’t be wrong all the time, and Francis definitely wouldn’t be a leftist. A leftist Christian is like a Nazi Jew. The left has always tried to kill us off and blot out God’s name. The Soviets used to teach kids to pray to Stalin.

As for the “saints,” they’re just replacements for the pantheist “gods.” “You don’t want to pray to Zeus any more? Fine. Now you can pray to St. Francis. Anyone but Jehovah.”

Any time you worship anyone or anything other than the Lord, you are worshiping Satan. That’s why Jesus is so intolerant. Anyone you pray to is an object of worship. The “saints” don’t answer prayers. If you pray to a saint and get an answer, it came from someone else.

Because I’ve been sitting around reading books by Greeks and Romans, I now realize pantheism is a bigger problem than I thought it was. I thought the Greeks and Romans had one set of “gods,” and the Egyptians and other heathens had different ones. That’s not true. The Greek pantheon came from Egypt. The names were different, but the basic pantheon was fundamentally the same. The Egyptians had temples dedicated to Greek spirits. The spirits rebellious Jews worshiped were the same spirits.

I haven’t checked, but I’ll bet the spirits Hindus worship are connected to Greek pantheism.

It appears that it’s wrong to think that there are lots of different pantheist religions. For the most part, it’s one religion with different names.

Rejection of pantheism has always been considered bigoted and extreme. The devil doesn’t mind if you worship Zeus, Krishna, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Elvis, and Gitche Manitou. You can even worship Jesus right along with them; lots of idolaters claim to revere Jesus. What Satan hates is the exclusion of the defeated fake gods. If you worship the Jewish God alone, you are a troublemaker.

The devil has millions of people worshiping Mary. Pagans conflate her with Venus. She must be appalled.

Anyway, I do not think the pope is a helpful influence. And that was probably three times as true during the years when there were three rival popes. If you can’t know God personally, and you have to rely on a man in Italy to tell you about him, you must be doing something wrong.

I now see the world as a porous, hollow sphere filled with filth. That may not be physically correct, but it’s spiritually right. Hell is beneath us. Our job is to keep it there, and to bring the ways of heaven down to earth. Instead, we pull hell up to the surface. It soaks through, as though the earth were a ball of cloth surrounding a lump of bloody pus. We are pulling it to the surface, like John D. Rockefeller pumping oil. Almost literally, we are raising hell.

We rejected God, so now we are becoming like the inhabitants of hell; we are striving to emulate the losers of the universe. We dress like convicts, who are the biggest losers in society. We love their shaved heads, chin beards, and tattoos. Our speech is so filthy it’s almost nauseating. We are in love with sexual perversion. We love pride and cruelty. We’re supposed to make God our father and come to resemble him, but the way things stand, Satan is our father, and we grow more like him every day.

We lower ourselves toward hell by following spirits. The only way to lift ourselves up is to follow the Spirit of God. We’re not interested. God isn’t cool.

Churches make it worse by teaching us we’re not God’s children. We’re more like his fans, sitting in the back row of the upper deck of a stadium, as far from him as a U2 fan is from Bono. We don’t expect him to go home with us.

Things are going to get worse. Look after yourself. The sooner you change your mind, the more you will accomplish during your remaining time.

If You Want Green Leaves, Feed the Roots

Saturday, August 6th, 2016

Rule Your House

I’m having the strangest morning. I feel wonderful.

I always feel good in the morning, but not like this. When I say I always feel good, I mean I always feel good physically, and I mean I don’t hate getting out of bed the way I did for the first few decades of my life. I don’t mean I always feel good inside. I’ve felt considerable stress lately. I had to fix it with prayer before I got started with the day. Today I felt stressed when I woke up, but now I feel like I just had a massage.

False doctrine is always a problem. Men who don’t know God make things up, usually because they love money, glory, and power. As a result, Orthodox Jews believe in reincarnation, and Catholics think priests shouldn’t marry. Charismatics believe God will give them a hundred dollars for every ten dollars they give Kenneth Copeland. Our religious authorities have made up a lot of poisonous doctrine, and we suffer because of it.

Testimony is better. If a truthful person testifies, we know that what he says happened actually happened. Testimony isn’t perfect, because people are often deceived by evil spirits and miracles performed by the devil; the Mormon church may have gotten its start through the appearance of a lying spirit. A person can give truthful testimony that misleads people. But when testimony is truthful, and it lines up with scripture and the inner witness of the Holy Spirit, it can’t be beat.

You can’t testify about something you didn’t witness. Nearly all of the world’s religious leaders haven’t witnessed anything. They repeat hearsay or deliberate lies. They give us strategies that don’t work. Instead of calling us up to walk on the water, they tie millstones around our necks. When we take their advice and fail, we are likely to give up on God altogether.

Why did I suddenly veer off into the area of false doctrine? Because I believe I feel good today because I gave up a cherished belief of Christians everywhere.

We believe that a human being has three parts: flesh, mind (or soul), and spirit. I accept that. Some churches teach that you can command your flesh or your mind, in the name of Jesus. I accept that, because it works pretty well. Many churches teach that the spirit of a saved person is perfect and doesn’t need any improvement. They teach that it’s supposed to be exalted above the flesh and body, with no need for input from anyone but God. That, I do not accept.

The Bible tells us the spirit of a prophet is subject to the prophet, meaning it has to obey him. On the cross, the mind of Jesus sent his spirit to the Father. In English, the verse says, “I commend my spirit.” In Greek, it means something like, “I place my spirit beside you.” It comes from Psalm 31, and the Hebrew word used there appears to mean something like “commit” or “entrust.” He was sending his spirit to the Father. His mind had that authority.

A person who prays in tongues has the power to turn it on and off at will.

It sure looks like our spirits have to listen to us, but if preachers tell us our spirits are perfect, and that they’re in charge, we are not likely to take authority and get things done.

Today I started commanding my spirit to do this and that, and to stop doing other things. I can’t tell you how much better I feel.

I live in Miami, which is full of rude people, and I spend time on the Internet, which makes Miami look like a Care Bears picnic. I am constantly subjected to provocation. I don’t want anger in my life, and I don’t want to live with the sensation that I am always balled up in a defensive stance. I developed the habit of commanding my flesh and my mind not to be angry. I commanded them in other areas. It works, but the effect is not as powerful as it could be. I think that’s because I wasn’t going far enough upstream, to where the problem really starts.

I used to blame other people for my anger, and it was not a hard thing to rationalize. People are a mess. Under the polite surface, there’s always a food fight going on. People say and do nasty things all the time. Eventually, I learned that I could not blame other people. Anger is a choice, and it becomes a habit. If I blame other people, I cede power over my heart to them. That’s a bad idea. I have a responsibility to be an authority over myself. Why would an intelligent person give control of his heart to someone who is against him?

I know people who love talking about “righteous anger,” as if it’s okay to be enraged all the time. I don’t know if anyone is immune to anger, and I doubt such people exist, because we know God gets angry. All the same, it seems obvious that if anger has to exist, it should be brief, and it should serve a purpose. It should not be in control. If you pet it and feed it and shelter it, it sits inside you and eats you alive while the people you’re mad at enjoy life, oblivious.

This morning I felt unwanted anger and stress, and I commanded my spirit to knock it off. I commanded it to forgive and to submit to the Holy Spirit. I did this along with the other spiritual warfare strategies I use every day.

Commanding your mind and your flesh produces results, but it’s different when you command your spirit. It works better. That shouldn’t be a suprise. Jesus said the spirit was willing but the flesh was weak. I think the spirit is quicker to obey.

When I was living in Israel, my kibbutz gave the volunteers a bus tour. I’ve written about this before. We went to the northern end of the country and visited the Banias, Mt. Hermon, and the nature preserve at Tel Dan. We went by the Sea of Galilee. The Banias, Mt. Hermon, and Tel Dan contain origins of the Jordan River.

Pure snow falls on Mt. Hermon, and it melts and goes into springs that contribute to the Jordan. The Banias is an old heathen shrine (named for Pan) at the base of the mountain. Its Latin name is Caesarea Philippi. There used to be a bubbling spring there, and pagans threw sacrifices into it, polluting the Jordan for the rest of its length.

Mt. Hermon (“Baal Hermon,” or “Lord of the Curse”) is where rebellious angels came down when they descended to earth and polluted mankind’s genes by fornicating with women. “Baal Hermon” is said to be the name of a false deity that was worshiped under the mountain.

The Sea of Galilee (farther down the Jordan) represents the earth, and the fish are people. The waters are the voices of men and spirits. The pollution of the Jordan is the spiritual pollution that bathes mankind.

When you command your spirit, it’s as if you’re going to the Jordan’s source and cutting off the unclean sacrifices.

I know that sounds strange, but God designed Israel to confirm his word.

Human iniquity starts in the spirit. If you don’t address it until it’s in your mind and flesh, you’re just stopping up a leak with chewing gum. What you want is to cut off the flow at the source. If your spirit is with you, then you don’t have to rely on your weaker parts to fix your problems.

The spirit is like a man in a marriage. It should be the head, not the tail. If a husband and father is screwed up, there isn’t much hope for the family. If he’s doing what he should be doing, the family will usually prosper. You have to get your spirit to wake up and move. That’s what I take away from this. You have to give your spirit feedback and call on it to live up to its obligations.

I don’t care if people think I’m crazy; that’s par for the course. The world will be against me no matter what I do or say, so I might as well be truthful.

Right now I can read the news without having to battle anger. I can think about my obligations without anxiety. I can consider the defeated state of the world without feeling despair. I want to hold onto this.

It’s nice to resist your counterproductive emotions, habits, and opinions, but it’s better to be rid of them.

Man-created doctrine tells us resisting temptation is the best thing we can do. Forcing ourselves to obey God, using willpower, makes us righteous. That’s not true. It’s better to have your heart changed so you don’t want to do evil. This is what God is talking about when he says he will write his law on our hearts.

Who would you rather have live in your spare room? A repentant pedophile who fights temptation every day, or a former pedophile who no longer has any interest in children? Which person would you say is “better”?

Before the crucifixion and Pentecost, we didn’t have much ability to change our hearts. We could choose to obey, but we couldn’t rewire ourselves. Now we can hack our character. That’s a much bigger blessing than a set of laws.

The things God is trying to give us are exponentially better than the worldly garbage we pursue every day. They are worth giving up ambition, pride, and pleasing the flesh. Earthly pleasures are like thin scabs on festering wounds. The Holy Spirit cleans the wound out and eliminates it. We are too deceived to realize this.

If you’re struggling with yourself, consider what I’m saying. No one expects you to carry everything by yourself.

Tony Stark is an Amateur

Friday, August 5th, 2016

Behold my Creation

Yesterday was a big day, tool-wise. I used CAD to design a part, and I managed to make my CNC lathe cut something using the design.

Notice I did not say I got a proper part; just that I got the lathe to use the design I made.

Here is the design; I’m not sure why I used a cell phone instead of a screen grab, but anyway:

08 05 16 first CNC design attempted on lathe in Delrin - fusion 360 screen web

That’s a tool handle. I don’t need a tool handle, but I figured it was the sort of thing I might want to make in the future, so I designed one.

Here is the part I actually cut:

08 05 16 first CNC design attempted on lathe in Delrin - actual part web

As you can see, it’s a wee bit off.

Here is how CNC works, at least in my mind. You draw a part in a CAD program. You open the file in a CAM (computer-aided manufacturing) program, and it tells the computer how to write a Gcode file that goes to your controller. The controller–in my case a board–tells the machine motors what to do.

Essentially, the CAM program turns a picture into a path a tool follows as it cuts.

Last night, I learned that it gets even more annoying. I use Fusion 360, Autodesk’s free CAD/CAM program. In Fusion 360, you have to create something called a “setup” before you make your Gcode, and you also have to come up with a file called a “post processor.” I found this definition online: “The software that converts CL-file CAD/CAM data to specific machine tool commands is called a Post Processor.>

I don’t know what “CL” means, but I’ll let that pass.

The post processor communicates with the machine control program, which is the software that tells the control hardware what to do.

I guess this is not easy to follow. I’ll make a list.

1. CAD file
2. Setup
3. Post processor
4. CAM program ==> Gcode file
5. Control program
6. Controller
7. Motor amplifier
8. Machine motors

I think that’s about right.

Numbers 6 and 7 are pieces of hardware. My controller is a KFlop board, and my amplifier is a KStep board. The amplifier takes control signals from the controller and turns them into current that drives the motors.

LinuxCNC and Mach3 are control programs.

It’s a mess, isn’t it?

Fusion 360, like just about everything else in the CNC world, does not like lathes. At least it doesn’t like hobby lathes put together in garages. As a result, the creators made no effort–none–to make it work with Mach3’s turning software. That means it lacks a Mach3 lathe post processor file. I had to go dig one up. Other people had the same problem, predictably, so they came up with files that seemed to work. “Seemed.”

Installing a new post processor file in Fusion 360 is not fun. The program hides the location of its processor files. The trick is to open an existing file in Fusion 360’s editor, and it will display the path to all of the post processor files. Then you can move your file to that folder manually. Which I did.

There were problems.

First of all, the setup utility in Fusion 360 is not easy to work with. You have to set it for turning, and then you have to describe the uncut stock to it. You have to program a coordinate system into it, so it doesn’t run backward. You have to describe the tool you’re using. All the while, Fusion 360 will try to reset things after you’ve set them yourself. I have to get some help with that.

It uses language I don’t understand. I know about things like clearance and depth of cut, but Fusion 360 gets into “overlap” and “smoothing” and so on. It defines terms for you…sometimes. The way you bring up the definitions is to hover over stuff you don’t understand. If you’re lucky, an explanatory popup appears. But sometimes you’re not lucky.

I did the best I could, and I sent the Gcode to Mach3. I had three major issues.

First, the x-coordinates don’t work. I kept telling the machinery where the tip of the lathe was supposed to start, but it kept deciding the +x side of the work was an inch closer to me than it really was. This meant that if I ran the program on a 3/4″ piece of Delrin, it missed the work entirely.

I wanted to see something happen, even if it was wrong, so I lied to the machine about the x location, and my lying wild guess was about 0.100″ off. As a result, the part is a lot skinnier than it should be. Not a catastrophe. I’m happy it exists at all.

Second, the cuts are way too deep. In Delrin, which is plastic, a mini-lathe can do a 0.100″ cut without crashing. Try that in steel. No way.

Third, the Gcode crashed my controller. I think it died when it hit a G0 command. I looked G0 up, and all I found was “rapid positioning.” Whatever it means, the lathe stopped moving, and the control board locked up and had to be restarted. The part was not finished.

Now I have to know: did the code kill the controller, and if so, is it a controller problem or a Mach3 problem? If it’s a controller problem, then the post processor I found is no good, and I have to find out how to fix it. I already know Mach3 and the controller get along. So basically, I need to go to MIT for three or four years and then come back and solve the problem.

I’m happy, regardless. I designed something. I turned it into a part. That’s progress.

Life is not all peaches and honey, however. I got some news about my sister. She left a homeless shelter at some point this year, and no one knows where she is. Yesterday a letter arrived, at an address she left long ago. Someone showed it to me. I can’t say what it was about, but it was bad news for her financially and in other ways. It will catch up with her eventually.

I used to be concerned because she had been disinherited. I used to pray for her inheritance to be restored. Now I know that was not a good idea, and I understand why God didn’t agree with my prayers.

It made me think, and it helped me understand some general truths about wealth.

I’m not sure people think clearly when they make their wills. They work hard all their lives, and they store up wealth that can be a tremendous help to their descendants. What happens when you leave that kind of gift to a person who has immense debt, or who spends profusely? It’s as if you put it in a pile and set fire to it. It vanishes.

Think about it. What if you have two kids; one has zero debt, and the other owes someone $500,000? Say you leave $250,000 to each kid; what happens? Immediately, half of your wealth is gone. It’s as if you never had it. The creditor takes it, and then the broke kid goes to the other kid and tries to get the rest of it, bit by bit.

If you have more than one child, and you cut off the children who have debt, their creditors can’t do a thing. You never owed them, and neither did the other children. The wealth is insulated from attack. It’s common sense, but people don’t seem to think about it. They leave money to children who are essentially bags with no bottoms. It goes right through them and into the hands of other people.

People sometimes favor their irresponsible children, saying they “need” the money. That’s like saying Charlie Sheen needs more coke. If you want to be Santa Claus, give money to people who have nothing. If you want to conserve wealth and bless your kids, give it to people who look after what they have.

Children who have debts feel they’re more entitled to inherit. That’s just denial.

The conviction that you have to give handouts to people indiscriminately is also denial. It can make their problems worse and add to yours, especially if the people you give money to are abusers you used to pray to be freed from. It’s like inviting a vampire into your house.

It’s a bad idea to grab a tar baby once you’ve gotten loose. You’re asking for whatever misery ensues. Who will you blame? Will you go to God and ask him to free you again?

Some people have to keep repeating mistakes, and often, helping them is so costly, it doesn’t make sense. It’s not even help. It’s even worse when the people you try to help are folks who spend their time insulting you, lying to others about you, and scheming to take things from you. Generosity and compassion are extremely important, but you have to be very careful. You wouldn’t want to lend the bum on the corner money for bolt-cutters to rob your house.

I remember a time when I considered marrying someone who had debt. I didn’t know about the debt; I didn’t ask. Love conquers all! Thinking about money is tasteless and coarse!

That was stupid. Man, I was an idiot. I should have asked. If you marry someone who is debt-free, the cost of the wedding and honeymoon is your only immediate expense. If you marry someone who owes $100,000, you are immediately on the hook for the marriage, the honeymoon, and…$100,000. No one with any sense would spend a hundred grand on a wedding, but people do it every day without knowing it.

Instant cost of marrying debt-free spouse: $5000, if you’re sane. Okay, I didn’t include the ring.

Instant cost of marrying big spender: $105,000.


Also, the debt a wastrel has at the time of marriage is just the beginning. It’s a tiny tumor that hasn’t blossomed yet. It will get much bigger eventually. No irresponsible woman ever decided that marriage was her cue to stop spending.

Marriage isn’t about money, but debt is slavery. It’s hell. Marry a slave; become a slave.

Jesus said those who had a lot would receive more, while those who had little would lose what they had. It’s true. People build or destroy, in every area of their lives.

I’m grateful for the people I can help. The rest just make me shake my head. I certainly hope I can be helped.

Blessings only go to people who can be blessed.

The Bible talks a lot about the fatherless. That’s me. You can have a father and be fatherless. If no one passes wisdom on to you when you’re young, you are fatherless. It’s disgraceful to be my age and to be surprised by wisdom other people accept at the age of ten.

God is a good father. He doesn’t just give you stuff you crave; that’s what pimps do to hookers. He teaches you. He improves you. He changes you so you have productive habits and thoughts. I wish I had known him decades ago, but, of course, fatherless people don’t have the wisdom to understand that they’re fatherless. I wasn’t interested.

I hope I still have enough time left to benefit from the things God shows me. If not, at least I get to relate them to younger people.


Thursday, August 4th, 2016

All is not Well

I feel like I should stop reading the news. The world is disintegrating around me.

The GOP rejected several excellent candidates and nominated Donald Trump. Hillary Clinton, whose husband was impeached and deprived of his law license, is ten points ahead in the polls. A Muslim immigration lawyer named Khan–a person who takes money in exchange for helping dangerous people remain in our country–has a Presidential candidate on the defensive less than a month after 84 people were killed by an Islamist truck driver.

All over the news I see the pronoun “she” being used to describe men who want to use women’s bathrooms. Journalists are bending the knee to self-deluding people from a violence-prone movement that supports criminals like Michael Brown against the police. News stories feature foul language in their headlines. “Serious” websites are full of picture links to stories about “wardrobe malfunctions.”

Is this reality?

I feel like I woke up in the world of Idiocracy, a film by Mike Judge, the creator of Beavis and Butt-head. In that world, everyone is stupid and vile. It’s as if everyone on earth had been sterilized except for the Occupy Wall Street crowd, and their foul offspring had multiplied to fill the earth.

I don’t know why Mike Judge felt qualified to comment negatively on the debasement of American culture, since he got rich pouring gasoline on the fire.

Here’s a bit of the movie. Expect bad language.

How filthy are we going to get? I don’t think there’s a limit. The human race has produced people who killed others and then saved their dead bodies for posthumous rape. It has produced pedophiles who tortured children to death and recorded their agony to enjoy later while pleasuring themselves. It appears that the bottom is pretty far down.

Any slimy, vicious thing a chimpanzee can do, a human being can surpass. Without the Holy Spirit, we are just frail chimpanzees with higher IQ’s.

I feel bad for the world, because I know what’s happening. God’s patience is coming to an end. We are almost at the point where he will withdraw the mercy that has kept this planet functioning since the fall of Adam. He will look down and decide the return on investment just isn’t there any more. Destruction will come, and we will react not with repentance, but by hating God even more.

I wish there were a bus terminal I could go to, for a ticket to some place else.

The earth is much more like hell than heaven. Hell is literally on earth, under the surface. Heaven is far away. We should be pushing the stink of Satan farther down below the earth’s crust. Instead, we’re doing all we can to bring it to the surface.

Is Kim Kardashian really getting rich, appearing on reality TV and exposing her tiresome body on the Internet? Is that actually happening? Are millions of Americans really sitting down every week to watch this imbecile? I can’t make my mind swallow that.

Are we really putting Satanic displays up on government property? Did I dream that?

I’m imperfect like everyone else. From God’s standpoint, I’m a nasty item. I have done all sorts of immoral things. I have caused a lot of suffering. I don’t want to hold myself out as a morally superior person, but I know that I’m entitled–obligated–to observe and criticize what’s happening around me.

God puts us through things to show us what his job is like. I made the inside of myself filthy, and for decades, I didn’t listen to God. It makes sense that after turning back to him, I would get to experience the sensation of being surrounded by filthy people who don’t listen and can’t be fixed.

This place is a mess. I know God leaves us here so we can reach others, but whenever he decides my job is done, I am ready to go. Keep my stuff; you can have the rattle and the soiled onesies. Just let me out.

It’s a bizarre situation. The more God corrects you and makes you useful and ordered, the more the world hates you. This place makes no sense at all.

Well, that’s wrong. It makes sense, and it’s predictable. But people behave extremely irrationally.

I’m thinking about the people who jumped from the World Trade Center. They hung on as long as they could, and when the flames got close enough, they decided death from a fall was better than death by burning, so they let go.

This world is not worth hanging onto. It will not help you; it has no mercy. If you belong to God, you’re like a splinter it’s trying to expel from an infected wound. It doesn’t want peace. It doesn’t want coexistence. It wants you gone, the way Muslims want Israel gone. The way the Germans and Austrians wanted the Jews gone.

I feel like I’m walking on a vast plain of pure, deep dog excrement, wearing snowshoes. I have to be here a while longer, so I want to avoid sinking any farther than I have to.

What must it be like, to live in a world that works? I can’t imagine it, any more than I can imagine being part of a healthy family.

Judges are stupid and dishonest. Presidents are incompetent. As much as I detest Black Lives Matter, the police are so crazy we had to craft the Bill of Rights to keep them from destroying us. The world is completely insane; our authorities are as unreliable as thin ice. What will it be like when Jesus returns to rule? I wish I could see it.

Imagine having a one-world government with a king who has unlimited power and never makes a mistake. That’s the future, after the purge. I would give anything just to spend a week there and look around.

Turn away from this disaster. Don’t hold on too long. Your side lost; you can’t make it work. God’s people will be driven off the earth temporarily, but after that, we receive the eternal victory which is already assured. Don’t sell your future for a bowl of soup.

Upgrade to First Class

Thursday, July 28th, 2016

Coach is no Place for a Prince

More info is coming in.

Last night I was in prayer, and I kept hearing the word “churl.” In dictionaries, this word’s primary definition equates it with terms like “peasant” and “hick.” That may be the definition they list first, but in reality, most people use it to refer to a lower-class person who is insolent, uncultured, stupid, and arrogant. Think of Kanye West.

In Shakespeare’s works, people who get above themselves are churls. A child who has no respect for a parent, or a servant who talks back to the king…that’s a churl. An ignorant young person who participates in a flash mob and robs a store is a churl.

King Lear should be called Revenge of the Churls. It’s full of low people suddenly thrust into high places. Of course, that means it’s also full of upper-class people thrust into low places of abuse and fear.

Lear starts the ball rolling by giving up his kingdom without thinking clearly or asking for advice. He allows his daughters to determine their shares by participating in a praise contest. Whoever spews the most ridiculous lies about her admiration for him gets the most stuff. As a result, predictably, the slimiest daughters get everything, and the honest daughter is banished.

He puts low people in charge, and they turn his world upside down. They take away his knights. They talk to him as if he’s a little boy who misbehaves. They let their snotty, lower-class servants abuse him. They tear the eyes out of one of his nobles, and they promote the noble’s illegitimate son, who already had a sweet deal that was nothing to complain about.

His friend Kent, obviously a noble, is banished and put under threat of execution.

In the Lear world, up is down and down is up. It’s like a preview of this week’s Democratic convention.

In the supernatural realm, Satan, the fallen angels, and the demons are churls. And as churls will, they have assumed temporary power over their betters. People who serve Satan tend to be churls.

A long time ago, God told me this: “Satan is a loser.” Sounds like a harsh thing to say, but then this is the same God who says he derides Satan and laughs at his defeat. God isn’t a wheedling punching bag full of marshmallows; his patience deceives people. He drowned the human race and burned children alive in Sodom. He built hell and the lake of fire.

Satan really is a loser. He’s like a ghetto punk who can’t get what he wants honestly and ends up pimping and selling drugs. He wants God’s power, along with worship, without his righteousness.

Satan is like a moron who lives in the guest bedroom of his mom’s trailer and makes meth in soda bottles. He’s like a food stamp recipient who wears Air Jordans and plays video games all day. He can’t cut it. He’s a malodorous failure who can only get the things he desires temporarily, through lies and fakery.

The demons, which are the offspring of angels and women, are losers, tool. They’re illegitimate. They have no inheritance and no future. They can’t do anything good; it isn’t in them. Their time is taken up with malice and cruelty directed at human beings. They see us as pampered younger children, which is what we are. It tears them up to see us receive God’s help, when they’re all headed for eternal pain and humiliation. The fact that God took our punishment must drive them out of their minds. I’m sure they talk about how unfair it is.

Churls think they’re victims. That’s why they’re so ready to do evil to better people. It’s why they key nice cars and steal things from people’s yards. If you have something, it was supposed to be theirs, so stealing isn’t wrong; it’s reparations. If your country is nicer than theirs, it’s not because they make their country a miserable place where no one can succeed; it’s because you stole their land.

Of course, if they got what you have, they would destroy it fast. That’s their nature. They don’t build; they destroy. Look what happens to lottery winners who have no class. Look at Rodney King, an instant millionaire who died broke.

There is a famous canard among minority philosophers: “It’s impossible for minorities to be racist, because you can’t be racist if you have no power.” Okay, so if you hate other people because of their color, and you do your best to kill them, but you’re not part of the majority…what are you? If not a racist, then what? A saint?

No, obviously, you’re a racist. Your canard is just a shield that protects the filth in your heart. You just want an excuse to hurt other people.

Christians live in defeat because we think churl spirits can’t live in us. Backward preachers tell us demons don’t exist, or that they’re just bad parts of our own personalities. They tell us demons do exist, but we’re too good to have them; people who have demons always foam at the mouth and roll on the ground. We think there are no churls ruling us, so we leave them in power, and we die of disease and other causes. We live in misery, ruled by supernatural enemies and the vile people they bring against us.

We lack authority because we don’t identify with God in our hearts. We go to church to get forgiveness, or just to feel good, or to find dates. We want to give God just enough of ourselves to make life tolerable. That means we choose the churls over the king, so when we appeal to the king’s authority for help, we usually don’t get much. He’s like a rich aunt we only visit when we want money; why should he help us?

Last night God reminded me: we are not supposed to be part of the universe’s defeated lower class. We are supposed to be nobility. More specifically, we are supposed to be royalty; each one of us should be a prince or princess, very literally. We don’t accept the role, so we don’t get the perks.

It sounds elitist to talk about class as though it were a good thing, but history vindicates me. Who would you rather be stuck in a lifeboat with? Prince Charles and his family, or a mix of Baltimore protesters, Bernie Sanders socialists, white supremacists, and La Raza members?

Aside from that, my real subject is supernatural classes, not earthly classes. I’m not saying only people with money are good. As Paul said, not many people who are wise, mighty, or noble on earth are called.

The word “noble” doesn’t just mean “high born.” It also means full of grace and altruism. A person with a noble heart is better than a person with the heart of a grasping peasant. Whatever your heart is like right now, God is ready to change it and turn it into the heart of a prince. It doesn’t matter whether you rule a country or rake leaves for a living.

If you think you don’t have demons, you are sheltering them and keeping them in control. Jesus said his followers would cast them out, but not many people are doing it, and those that try are usually using one hand to cast them out and the other to hold them in. Without confession and accountability, you’re asking for a prince’s privileges coupled with a stooge’s heart and mind. The filth inside you will hold the spirits that squat in you, the same way poop holds flies.

Jesus is very elitist. He welcomes the poor and people who aren’t bright, but he calls the class of people who reject him “swine.” He calls them “the dead,” “whitewashed tombs,” and “dogs.” When he cast demons out of a man who lived in a cemetery, they ran into pigs. This was a demonstration of his opinion of people who prefer Satan to him. That’s the majority of humanity. The man lived with the dead, and the pigs were like unbelievers.

The spirits that control you are like crackheads who break into your house, beat you in front of your family, and force you to cook and provide for them. They are losers. They spread their filth and darkness in you; that’s why so many people who are heavily controlled by demons keep their homes dark and let filth accumulate until it stinks. Hell is a dark place that stinks. The presence of the wicked makes it that way.

You’re submitted to the Holy Spirit, who wants you to receive a kingdom, or you’re submitted to filthy, stinking churls who want to eat you while you’re still alive and then drag you to their prison to share their punishment. There is no middle alternative.

The universe makes a lot of sense. We think it doesn’t because the people who came before us rejected wisdom and failed to pass it on. We don’t understand the things they understood. You have more control over your suffering than you think.

The more I give myself to God, the better things get. The more I ask for criticism, and the more I agree with it and ask for help, the fewer problems I have with my enemies. This is what God wants. You’re not supposed to live however you want and come to church every week so God can change your diaper. You’re supposed to let him potty-train you.

I have to be what victimhood cultists call “self hating.” I don’t hate myself, of course. But I have to reject the culture I come from. Appalachia is messed up. America as a whole is not quite as backward, but it’s bad enough to be doomed. The counterproductive traits I’ve cultivated in myself, which are not necessarily related to my culture, are messed up. I reject all of it. I want the culture of heaven. I want to be of the race, nation, and family of God.

If you tried to say that at the Democratic Convention, they would burn you alive. Culture is sacred (unless it’s mainstream culture). Speak Spanish on the job! Cover yourself with ghetto tattoos! Be rude and surly. Be a racist. Hate men. Attack white people. Don’t accommodate. Be proud and unwilling to change, because pride is better than gold!

The supernatural realm is perfectly polarized. We think it’s bad here in America, among people, but we’re wishy-washy and moderate compared to spirits. Spirits literally hate God and want to abuse and kill him, or they love him and want to serve him without any thought of backtalk. It’s too bad we can’t see the spirits we side with every day. We would realize how many of our backward cultural ideas are actually demonic and poisonous.

I don’t want to be ruled by supernatural peasants who should be lower than slaves. I want to see them pushed out of my life. I don’t want their filth-loving human servants to be able to lead me around by a hook in my nose. Whatever I have to part with in order to get free is worthless compared to the benefits.

The farther you go into the kingdom, the more you alienate yourself from human beings. Their hatred of you increases; the rejection increases. Be happy about it. People are treacherous, and they carry transmissible problems. Limiting your exposure is a good thing.

I almost never hear from my relatives. Local people who used to call themselves my friends cut me off when I started going to church. Good. If you’re not with the program, you’re not going where I’m going, anyway.

Here’s to class mobility. I plan to take advantage.

Welcome to the Age of Virgin-Shaming

Wednesday, July 27th, 2016

Your Body; the Left’s Choice

I knew better, but I clicked on a link to The Washington Post. I have only myself to blame. The headline I clicked said, “As a young evangelical, I believed a bestselling book that warned me to stay ‘pure’ until marriage. I still have a stain on my heart.”

Weird way to write a headline.

You really have to see the core “argument,” in order to believe it:

Purity culture taught me that I ought to be passed down from father to husband, more an inheritance than a human. I was taught that men are my cover and my shield, when for the most part they have been the ones causing damage through molestation, rape, and abuse. I was taught that my holy calling was to open my legs for one and only one and bear him children. Barring that, I was to keep them closed and never express desire or lust or fear or longing. So many women in my life cracked under the untenable pressure, often giving up on God all together. Others were forced into marriages with men who hit them and hid their abuse behind another message of the church borne from purity culture, that God hates divorce.

Are you kidding me?

This isn’t a Christian led by the Holy Spirit. She’s probably not a Christian at all. It reminds me of the famous Internet comment lead-in: “As a lifelong Republican,” which means, “As an extreme leftist who posts comments, pretending to be conservative.”

Maybe there is a church out there somewhere that teaches women they are their fathers’ possessions. I have never heard that doctrine. I’m pretty sure it disappeared during the Renaissance.

The line about women “forced” into marriage is classic victimhood spiel. Who “forces” women into marriage in 2016? I mean, not including Muslims? This isn’t the Middle Ages. Christian parents are some of the most passive people on earth. A typical evangelical would rather walk off a pier than “judge” his daughter or tell her whom to marry. The “judge not” crowd has us penned into a dark corner, like Moonies at an airport. The devil talked us into unilateral disarmament.

Is it possible that there are non-Christian women who slept around a lot and still ended up in abusive marriages? Just maybe. Call me crazy, but I believe that. Or maybe Mike Tyson was a virgin when he got hitched.

Suddenly, purity is human trafficking. Fathers and husbands of pure brides are pimps. Insane. We have entered the age of virgin-shaming.

But it’s not surprising, from a woman who clearly feels hostility toward men (not the typical evangelical attitude). She says, “I was taught that men are my cover and my shield, when for the most part they have been the ones causing damage through molestation, rape, and abuse.” Did Rachel Maddow write this?

It’s a remarkable thing. Suddenly promiscuity is wise, and purity is perilous and foolish. If you can believe things like that, there is probably no lie you can’t swallow.

If you aren’t baptized with the Holy Spirit, you can be persuaded to believe things that go against doctrine and your upbringing. You have weak walls. This is why Jesus told the disciples not to do anything until he gave them power.

I looked at the comments, expecting to gag, but even the Post’s readers were not completely on the side of sleaze. That surprised me.

I keep getting these not-at-all subtle reminders: “America’s goose is cooked. Stop thinking about fixing it.” I have stopped. I will not resume. It’s like the feeling you get when you realize God wants you to stop trying to reform someone who has already decided not to listen. Often it’s okay to let people destroy themselves. God does it every day.

You’re not really letting them destroy themselves; you’re just acknowledging that you can’t help them.

I got some interesting comments about The Aeneid, which is now high on my list of least-favorite books. One commenter pointed out that it’s actually a poem, and that prose translations suck the life out of it. Another person said I should consider a different translation.

These comments make sense. Imagine reading The Rime of the Ancient Mariner in prose form. Not something I would look forward to. It would be a terrible book. You would have to change everything about it to make it digestible.

The translation I quoted in an earlier post keeps rhythm and rhyme in the poem (I am assuming the original rhymed so I don’t have to look up the Latin). It’s considerably more palatable than the version I’m reading. It’s broken up into short lines, which makes it less imposing. My translation is just a wall of letters.

I wanted to use the translations Columbia College used, so that’s what I bought. I’m sure they have a good reason for subjecting students to the version I have. Just like they have a good reason for coed showers.

My new strategy is to use my phone to read the book. The screen is small, so it breaks the prose up into little pieces that cause less pain going down. But maybe a different translation is the way to go. I’m not going to remember this stuff anyway, so it shouldn’t matter much. I just have to convince myself I’m not cheating.

Sooner or later, I have to tackle Don Quixote, which weighs a good pound and a half in paperback. Maybe I should give it a pass. I had to read it for another course at Columbia. There was a strange old guy who was held out to be a great genius, and his Don Quixote course was a Columbia College staple. I failed to perceive any signs of genius–I thought he was boring and barely coherent–but then you don’t have to be Marilyn vos Savant to do well in the Liberal Arts. You just have to memorize well and pretend you agree with your warped leftist teachers.

Maybe he was a different person if you dealt with him one on one, but everyone I knew thought he was an empty suit. Nice guy, I think. Smiled a lot. A LOT. It was a little strange.

He kept calling Don Quixote “the quicksut.” No idea what that was all about.

I may get yammered at for this, but it seems like Spanish-language literature is not on the same level as literature in English, French, German, whatever language the Scandinavians write in, and Russian. There goes my diversity merit badge.

Spain-boosters always cry, “Cervantes!”, when you say this. I don’t think Cervantes was all that good; Rabelais did the same kind of thing with much more skill and erudition. If you skip forward a few centuries, you run into Borges and Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I like Borges okay, but I thought Four Hundred Years of Solitude was windy, coarse, and pointless. The world is bad. Babies get eaten by ants. Okay; what are you trying to get at?

It may be that Spanish-speaking authors get an automatic push to the front of the line, like black directors. Okay, I apologize. Spike Lee really is a genius. The only reason his stuff goes straight to DVD is that the general public is too unsophisticated to appreciate Oldboy.

I didn’t know that movie existed until thirty seconds ago. It does exist, right?

If Spanish literature were really good, you would see a wall of translations when you walked into Barnes & Noble in America, just as people surely see walls of translations when they walk into bookstores in Spain. If it’s good, it will be translated. Publishers like money. They like new markets for old merchandise.

Maybe Spanish literature is to French literature as Spanish brandy is to cognac. As everyone knows, the French have accomplished huge things in literature, as well as math and science. I’m sitting here trying, and I can’t think of a theorem, law, or principle named after a Spaniard. France, though…Poisson, Cauchy, Descartes, Pascal, Ampere, d’Alembert, Lagrange…and they invented the bidet. Maybe.

I guess the Spanish had other things on their minds.

Spanish brandy is really bad, by the way. I got fooled into buying it once. It was said to be the equal of French XO, at a fraction of the price. Don’t you believe it. I bought something called Le Panto, and it tasted like it had been made from cooking wine that had been left outdoors in troughs for a month. I did not finish the bottle. I’ve also tried Gran Duque D’Alba, which is like a cheap domestic brandy with sugar in it. I paid forty bucks for a bottle, as a gift. Never again. Now I get Korbel’s top offering, for $19. It’s excellent.

I hope Virgil is behind me soon. When this ordeal is over, I will be able to say I read the whole book, and that will put me in, I would guess, an exclusive group making up perhaps 2% of the people who took Lit. Hum.

The quicksut himself would stand up and applaud.

Naughty Stewardess Cell Phone Leak Reveals All

Monday, July 25th, 2016

Now That You’ve Clicked, Take me Seriously

I generally look at Drudge in the morning, and today I was treated to a link to an article about naked dating shows.

This is really something.

A couple of days ago, I watched a movie filmed in the Forties. A man married a woman, and they had a problem that kept them awake. They discussed it…from separate beds.

That’s a little weird, but it shows how things have changed. Now we have single people on TV kids can watch, stark naked, examining each other like buyers at a slave auction.

Based on things I’ve seen in the past, I am going to guess that the people who make the show blur out the parts everyone wants to see, and that–OOPS–occasionally there’s an “accidental” peek viewers can pause and turn into a video capture.

An exposed rear end isn’t considered nudity any more. Go figure. They probably show those a lot.

The message came home to me: I am not ahead of the curve in announcing America’s defeat. I’m behind it. We are done. If the devil had a pop-out timer in us, it would have popped in about 2004.

Maybe I’m still too generous. How about 1990?

The end isn’t near; it’s here. Dawn has broken. I assume the only reason Satan isn’t moving faster is that he wants us to have time to acclimate. That way he can get us to jump through hoops that are still too disgusting for us in our present state.

I don’t know what to do. I haven’t been given instructions yet.

There’s an old movie called On the Beach. It’s not about naked volleyball. It’s about nuclear war. In the movie, the war is over, but the dying isn’t. The northern hemisphere is immersed in a cloud of lethal fallout, and because of the way the wind works in the movie, it takes a very long time to move below the equator. That means the Australians are sentenced to wait and see if they’ll be killed by radiation poisoning.

At first they have food and drink, and they continue with their lives. Everything is fine, except for the knowledge that death is probably on the way.

When they find out the situation is hopeless, they react in different ways. Many people poison themselves. Fred Astaire kills himself in a race car. It’s hard for them to decide how to deal with doom.

American Christians are on the beach. Our future is brighter than that of worldly Australians, because our future lies in another world. But our earthly prospects are bleak.

Wikipedia relates the term “on the beach” to two sources. One is the British military. They use the phrase to refer to vessels that are retired from service. The other source is T.S. Eliot, who wrote:

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river.

So the Australians in the movie are avoiding talking about death. They are afraid of it. In this respect, their situation differs from that of Christians. We will talk about it a lot, and strong Christians will be more concerned about the destruction of the lost and the end of civilization than about their own deaths.

We’re coming up on our Peter moment. Deny God and get a little space to live, or acknowledge him and move on to something better.

People will be so glad to get rid of us. At least at first. Surely many of them will be upset to learn that they do a fine job of making each other miserable without us. The Germans and Austrians thought Jews screwed up their countries. If they had succeeded in killing them off and holding onto their empire, they would have found that some other group was a problem. People aren’t the issue. Hearts that aren’t influenced by the Holy Spirit are the foundation of strife.

If you’re full of hate, you can always find someone to blame and persecute.

Some people will miss us. Some will join us and invite murder. It will be nice to miss that spectacle.

I have to admit I’m full of morbid curiosity, wondering what 2020 and 2025 will look like. It’s hard to resist staring at a freak show or an accident scene. I suppose that’s a character issue I need help with.

I don’t want to see the Tribulation. Hell’s stink will soak through the earth’s surface and permeate everything. Nothing will go right. People will treat hate the way they should treat love. Cruelty will have no limits. God won’t restrict misery as much as he does now. Humanity will be lucky if it’s only as bad as Sudan and Somalia. I shouldn’t say that. It will be worse.

It’s such a strange thing to watch. People who hate God are going to see the new Satanic ethos as liberation. People who love God see it as what it is: a self-inflicted terminal disease. But then it’s not the first self-inflicted terminal disease.

I wish there was a cruise ship terminal I could drive to before things get completely insane. I could lean on the rail as the ship pulled out and the pierced and modified kooks on land threw rocks and their own excrement. I am ready to go. Curiosity notwithstanding, I have no desire to continue residing here after the decay curve steepens.

What will the signal of the end be? Maybe Naked Interspecies Dating.

I can barely look at the Internet any more. I think I’ll look around for some exhibits that illustrate our decline.

I’m glancing at some clickbait links. Here you go.

From Fox News: “M____’s body-paint look.”

From CNN: nothing. How about that? Liberal CNN is ahead of Fox on a moral issue.

The Daily Mail: “Making waves! D______ shows off her smoking hot body in a thong bikini as she enjoys a spot of paddle boarding with her adorable family in Ibiza.”

Agence France-Press: “Pilots and Flight Attendants Confess Dark Secrets,” with a photo looking up a woman’s skirt.

Time: nothing. Still holding on.

NBC: “Taylor’s Daring Style Leaves Little to the Imagination.”

The New York Post: “his Woman Giving Birth in a Stream Has Been Watched Over 54 Million Times (NSFW),” complete with a nude picture.

I’m surprised to see some sites behaving reasonably well. Bloomberg, The New York Times, The Washington Post, and Politico haven’t lost it yet.

I don’t know what new shocks are around the corner. I suppose I should be content with what I’ve already seen. I look forward to whatever instructions I get. I want to keep improving and pull my feet up out of the cesspool as far as possible.

I don’t think any British news site has retained its dignity.

Your Creepy Gym Teacher Loves You

Sunday, July 24th, 2016

Your Parents are Just Breeding Stock

Yesterday I continued slogging my way through Plato’s Symposium. It’s like being forced to eat a chain-store pizza with a cat poo decorating each slice.

As I probably said in an earlier post, the book is about a bunch of gay Greeks sitting around drinking, talking about love. That’s actually wrong; they talk about “eros,” or “passionate love,” which really means sexual desire. It’s not what you and I think of as love.

They refer to love as a god over and over. That makes more sense if you think about Eros with a capital “E.” He’s the little round guy we think of as Cupid, the son of Venus. His name is a building block of the word “pederasty”; the “eras” comes from him.

I didn’t have a professor to explain this to me. I have a feeling they don’t push this angle at Columbia University, the school where I was supposed to be subjected to this book the first time around. I had to figure it out.

The Greeks loved two things we would call gay pedophilia and gay statutory rape. Plato’s book is a long rationalization which tries unsuccessfully to portray gay sex with younger, less powerful, less informed people as a good thing. If you think I’m exaggerating, read it yourself.

I finally got to the part where Socrates talks. To say it’s underwhelming doesn’t begin to express my reaction.

Here’s how Socrates works. He puts his conversational partner on the defensive, forcing him to answer questions but refusing to supply answers or take responsibility for them. He gets them to start out with idiotic premises, and then he forces them to build absurd arguments based on them.

He keeps pushing them toward the results he wants, pretending to compliment them on their brilliance the whole time. Then he arrives at a conclusion a ten-year-old would instantly know is insane.

I’m not impressed at all. Anyone can badger a less-intelligent or less-assertive person into saying something stupid. Put him on the defensive. Ask questions. Never answer questions. Never let him make a retraction. You will always win. You win for the same reason welshers win at poker; they never risk anything.

When I read Thucydides, I was very impressed with the arguments various orators made. It showed that they knew how to build arguments. It showed that they understood logic and persuasion. They understood structure. If you want to see how a good lawyer works in 2016, you can look at the speeches in Thucydides.

Socrates is not on that level. He is a sophist. By sophist, I don’t mean the Greek defition. I mean a person who builds arguments that are clever but false. Like Supreme Court Justice Brennan, who used an excellent mind to twist logic to suit his socialist bent.

He reminds me of something the character Mr. Dryden said in Lawrence of Arabia: “A man who tells lies, like me, merely hides the truth. But a man who tells half-lies, has forgotten where he’s put it.” People like Socrates and Brennan often don’t realize they’re lying. To abuse the truth is to destroy your ability to perceive it.

The upshot of his beliefs appears to be this: love for a woman is bestial, like a dog’s lust for a bitch in heat. It’s a low thing, to be contemned. The desire to sodomize a young man systematically is refined and godlike, as long as you give him teaching in exchange for allowing you to insert yourself and make him a receptacle for your fluids.

Socrates considered fathering children a lower pastime than teaching young men. Imagine that. It’s disgusting to even think that a person could have things so backward. Your mom and dad are clods, but the funny gym teacher who always had to come into the shower to talk to you…he’s a sophisticate.

I’m not distorting it at all. You can find the same argument in pedophile chat rooms all over the world.

My understanding is that we study Plato in order to understand where other philosophers got their foundation. That’s important to a lot of people. I don’t find secular philosophy useful or interesting. I had to take a course in it. I got an A, and I impressed and annoyed the professor. That’s as far as I care to go. I have never been in a situation where I thanked God for a helpful idea from Kant or Gurdjieff that got me out of a tough spot.

The characters in Plato’s book, who may or may not be accurate depictions of the real people whose names they take, are extremely shallow and carnal. They think like pigs and goats. “Love” means “sex with boys.” You can’t love anything that isn’t beautiful (bad news for parents of kids with birth defects). Everyone is motivated by a desire to be famous and admired. People should strive to make their names “immortal.”

Ridiculous. That’s not how quality people work. Quality people know the difference between lust and love. They are genuinely altruistic. They aren’t motivated by the possibility that society might reward their actions by putting their names on buildings that will be gone in a hundred years.

It’s not surprising that Plato and his pals were shallow. Their “gods” were like monkeys at the height of the mating season. They were rapists, thieves, torturers, liars, drunks, and adulterers. The men of The Symposium repeatedly affirm their admiration for these Olympian baboons. If my “god” was a chimp on Viagra, I guess I’d feel the same way Socrates did.

I’m just reading the book for its historical value, and to be able to say I actually did the reading for Lit. Hum. After that, I plan to leave it on the shelf. I don’t know if I should even have it in the house, because it’s so gross. Most of my books are sources of useful information, and they can be helpful in my person development. The Symposium is more like a slice of a diseased liver, kept by a pathologist as a warning to drunks.

I think I’m on page 517 of the PDF I am reading while I wait for my hardcopy to arrive in the mail. It ends on page 539. Every time I turn a page, I feel like I’m scratching a day off a prison sentence.

It’s strange to see the Greeks talk about excellence of character (arete) all the time. They were slimy, cruel, violent, oppressive people. They wouldn’t know excellence if it came up behind them and beat them with a club.

Augustine is coming up. I was thinking it might be nice to get away from the diseased heathen minds of the Greeks, but I may be even more disturbed by crackpot Catholic doctrine that keeps people in chains. At least I enjoyed King Lear. I read it out of sequence. Good thing I did. It was the lime sherbet that refreshed my palate prior to a serving of garbage.