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Archive for the ‘God’ Category

Pajamas are for People Who Sleep

Saturday, July 23rd, 2016

Thiel Ushers in a New Age of Republican Surrender

I did not watch the Republican convention. Not that interested, and I have a lot of things I prefer doing. But I did read some of Peter Thiel’s remarks. He is a homosexual businessman, and he founded Paypal. He is also the man who killed Gawker and bankrupted Nick Denton. He helped Hulk Hogan sue Gawker into the dirt.

Among other things, he said this: “I don’t pretend to agree with every plank in our party’s platform. But fake culture wars only distract us from our economic decline, and nobody in this race is being honest about it except Donald Trump.”


Here’s another gem of deceit:

“When I was a kid, the great debate was about how to defeat the Soviet Union. And we won. Now we are told that the great debate is about who gets to use which bathroom. This is a distraction from our real problems. Who cares?”

A lot of people care, and Peter Thiel knows it. Girls and women in locker rooms care. Parents care. Christians care.

This is another example of Republicans trying to own gay and vigorously deny God. And it’s another example of our unfortunate determination to insulate ourselves from God’s protection.

It reminds me of George W. Bush’s naive, self-destructive efforts to convince Democrats he wasn’t divisive. He talked about “crossing the aisle.” He extended his hand across the aisle on many occasions, and he got it bitten off. The Democrats didn’t see him as moderate or inclusive. They saw him as weak, and they treated his overtures the way a boxer treats his opponent’s defense flaws.

RNC leaders don’t have faith in God. They are cynical, secular, realpolitik-oriented materialists. When they have setbacks, they don’t fast and pray. They hold strategy meetings, and they look for secular solutions. A big percentage of Republican voters are believers; people like Priebus and Norquist see us as starry-eyed suckers, to be herded and manipulated. They would love to see us give up God completely so they could make the platform changes they really want to make.

They’re not that interested in policy. They’re interested in getting rich and holding onto power. When you develop the habit of assuming, by default, that people are motivated primarily by the desire to get money and hold onto power, you will find that the world makes a lot more sense. As the Bible says, “The love of money is a root of many evils.”

I went to law school with Reince. I barely knew him, but I knew his crowd well. He was just another ordinary, ambitious guy who ran for silly class offices. No one admired him for his principles. No one I knew looked up to him. When I see him on TV, I don’t see anything new.

If the RNC bigwigs thought they could get more votes by putting support for partial-birth abortion in the platform, they’d do it in five seconds. When it comes to homosexuality, they did a little math, estimated the numbers of votes they might lose or gain, and gave Thiel a call. It’s that simple. Principle was never a consideration.

Christians have some power in the party, but it’s disappearing. Soon the Republicans will lose their status as the unofficial party of Jesus. They’ll be the party of business and law enforcement. They’ll be like the people who say, “I’m fiscally conservative but socially liberal,” which is code for, “immoral and stingy.”

No one cares about God. No one really believes he won’t be mocked. We take him about as seriously as Catholics take the Pope.

It’s a sad spectacle. Thank God watching it develop from the sidelines won’t kill us.

I don’t know how we’re supposed to prepare for the sex-centric, perversion-embracing world of the near future. Does God want us to stay home all the time, to avoid the visual pollution? I can’t figure out how he’ll handle it. Sex with younger and younger people will be accepted. Sex with animals will be accepted. Stranger and stranger practices will be commonplace. It will be very hard to turn on a TV or walk down a city street without being smeared with filth.

One of the wonderful things about using sexual corruption to hurt human beings is that it hurts them from without. You don’t have to take part in it to be a casualty. You just have to see it. Even if you see it against your will, you are fouled by it. The devil made a great choice when he chose to use sex against us. It literally makes the world intolerable for us, unless we live in bomb shelters.

A sexually immoral person has the advantage in a corrupted society. He or she can go anywhere and do anything. You don’t have to worry about catching corruption when you already have it. The rest of us will have to find ways to avoid exposure to corrupted people. Not easy.

When perverts take over a beach, they say, “If you don’t like it, don’t go to the beach” (he beach funded by your taxes). If they take over the sidewalk, they say, “Don’t walk on the sidewalk.” Your territory shrinks and shrinks, until it becomes impractical or illegal for you to exist anywhere.

I wonder if other countries are having this problem. Do the British allow naked people to walk the streets, the way New Yorkers and San Franciscans do? Is it legal for two men to marry in France? Are large numbers of Germans piercing and mutilating their genitals?

The press always tells us we’re behind the sin curve. Whenever they want us to do something stupid, they say Europeans are doing it already, and that they make fun of us for not doing it. And Americans are just like kids who can’t resist peer pressure. If France jumped off the Empire State Building, we would be likely to follow.

You can’t find out what’s going on by relying on the press.

Now that we’ve given up on sexual morality, it’s reasonable to expect us to give up on other moral positions. Maybe abortion will be next. People think different types of sin aren’t connected, but they are. The spirits that drive them work together. The spirits of homosexuality serve as anchor-baby spirits in the Republican party. They’ll help the others get in.

Trump would love that analogy, except…he supports homosexuality. Fine; I’ll vote for him. Sometimes you have to eat from a filthy bowl. Sometimes you have to eat at Pharaoh’s table.

It seems like the more clarity I get, the crazier people around me get. It’s like it’s leaving me and going into them.

Here’s what I want from Trump: temporary protection and a little time to improve and do whatever God wants me to do. With any luck, I will have been struck by lightning by the time he leaves office. I don’t want to be elderly in Sodom.

I have no interest in changing humanity. I will be used to help a few individuals, but I accept the fact that America is going to self-destruct. I’m grateful for that. There are a lot of nuts out there who think they have to fight all the time. Islamist terrorists are great examples. So is the guy in Norway who shot all those kids. I don’t have to fight, because the battle to change America has already been lost. I just want a comfy couch and a fridge full of food, as far as possible from the lunacy.

I used to fight via blogging. That was dumb. Blogging is a carnal tool. There is no strength behind it.

I remember being part of the conservative Blogosphere. We linked to each other frantically. We loved our little victories; we thought they were so important. We exposed Dan Rather. Yay. Now we have other people doing the same things he did.

We were angry all the time. We never had peace. We exchanged angry emails. We posted angry Photoshops. A total waste of time. And anyway, Pajamas Media killed it with greed, elitism, and a very poor understanding of the way the Internet works. I predicted it. I thought predicting it was important. It probably wasn’t. It certainly didn’t make a difference.

I wonder if people I know are still immersed in vitriol and squabbling. I know the gutted, hamstrung conservative Blogosphere is nothing like it was, but I don’t monitor things. I looked at a well-known (formerly well-known) blog the other day, and I could almost smell the anger, cruelty, filth, and atheism rising from my monitor. Before that, the last time I looked at a conservative blog was months earlier. I don’t even know what they’re talking about.

A long time ago, I took a psychology course, and the instructor taught us something interesting. If you put rats in a cage and shock them, they attack each other. The lesson was this: frustration causes anger, and it will make you look for a villain to punish. If you can’t find the guilty, you will go after the innocent, or at least the relatively innocent.

That’s what fighting about politics is: a bunch of rats attacking each other because they can’t see the individuals who are shocking them. We blame people. We ignore the spirits who pull the strings. People are certainly responsible, but they aren’t the prime movers.

It’s weird to see Americans give up so completely and quickly. It’s weird to see us move from one viewpoint to its opposite in a short time, with no admission of hypocrisy. It shows how useless and weak people are without the Holy Spirit. No wonder Peter denied Jesus. If the Romans had pressed him, he would have driven the nails. So would I, without God’s help.

My advice to everyone: lower your expectations of America. Expect it to rot and die. Focus on getting yourself fixed. Choose the only battle you have a chance of winning. It’s worth it.

Better to be on an ark surrounded by bloated, drowned bodies than to be outside being eaten by birds and crabs.

Who Says the Greeks Don’t Want no Freaks?

Friday, July 22nd, 2016

History says Otherwise

I’m thinking about technology today.

I read something interesting this morning. Edward Snowden, the fugitive hacker who lifted the rock off of our government’s slimy, Constitution-killing surveillance programs, accepted a visit from journalists. He told them to put their phones in the refrigerator. Why? Because that way, if Barack Obama turned the phones’ microphones and cameras on, he would see nothing but beer bottles and cold pizza.

It’s funny to me, because I’m one of those rare people who avoid showing their phones and tablets things they don’t want seen. I do not use the phone on the toilet. When I say things I really don’t want it to hear, I put it in a drawer. I don’t think anyone is interested in what I do–today–but it’s good practice. You never know who will develop an interest in the future. There are a lot of actresses out there who wish they had kept their phones in drawers or their drawers on.

Apparently, Snowden knows the government does, in fact, listen to us and watch us via our phones. Confirmation. If only we could turn the tables. I suppose we would spend a lot of time throwing up, though.

I worry about tech privacy in some regards, and in others, I’ve made a conscious decision to give up. Privacy was one reason I got rid of Facebook and Twitter; I thought it was a bad idea for everyone in the universe to know what I had had for lunch every day for the past three years. On the other hand, I accept the fact that the government tracks all of my driving, because I can’t do anything about it. I also blog, knowing that what I write will surely be used against me in the future. I use email and a cell phone, knowing my communications are stored away somewhere, by people I find disgusting.

In the law, we have a concept we call “ex post facto,” which means something or other in Latin. It looks like “from after the fact,” but then I got a D in Latin. It means you can’t punish someone retroactively, for breaking a law you make today. It doesn’t seem to work very well. Bill Clinton taxed people retroactively. But we do rely on it. We sort of assume the legal things we did in the past won’t be used against us in the future.

One glaring problem with the policy against ex post facto punishment is that it depends on laws that can be changed in the future. If you pass a law saying ex post facto punishment is okay, then it doesn’t really matter what the law said a day earlier. You’re on the hook. You can change the law, but the past is carved in stone.

Another problem is that it doesn’t bind private individuals. If the general public decides to persecute you for past deeds of which they approved when you performed them, there isn’t anything you can do.

In the future, people like me will be persecuted and probably prosecuted for legal self-expression. In 2025, it will probably be possible to take all sorts of legal action against me for things I said legally in 2014. It will definitely be possible to take social action; it already is.

That’s life. Maybe “smart” conservatives will take down their blogs and beg for forgiveness. Maybe they’ll make convenience conversions to liberalism and atheism. It worked for Arianna Huffington. Of course, assimilation didn’t work too well for Jews under Hitler, so maybe we can’t do anything now to save ourselves.

Everything is documented now. We swim in evidence.

File all this under, “That’s tough.”

I’m also thinking about programming. I wrote a little about this a few days ago. I got my CNC lathe to work, sort of, and then I found out the program that came with it, which tells the motors what to do, isn’t very good. I’m sure it’s great for mill users, but lathe users are the red-headed stepchildren of CNC, and hobbyists are also red-headed stepchildren. Maybe that makes me a red-headed step-grandchild.

Anyway, the program depends on a lot of files written in the computer language C. The manufacturer admits that you should know C in order to deal with his invention. That’s not a knock on the manufacturer. Surely getting the electronics and software to the point where they are was a Herculean task. I don’t want to abuse anyone for failing to take it further.

I do not know C. I had a small amount of interest in programming in the Nineties, but it withered and died. While I was getting my physics degree, they made me take a Pascal course, and that’s about all I’ve done, apart from hacking php, css, and html files in order to blog. I did that hacking very clumsily, by trial and error. I didn’t know what I was doing.

I don’t know why my advisor told me to take Pascal. It was a MONUMENTAL mistake. I looked Pascal up, and it’s not very useful. For the most part, it’s a teaching language. Here is a quote from Wikipedia:

Initially, Pascal was largely, but not exclusively, intended to teach students structured programming.A generation of students used Pascal as an introductory language in undergraduate courses.

Pascal was used in the development of some Apple products, but, hello, just about everything else in the world is based on C or a related language. Teaching future programmers Pascal is like teaching UN interpreters Esperanto. A complete waste of time. And my experience has proven that. I believe I wrote one or two programs in Pascal back in the deep past, for purposes I no longer recall, but today I am, essentially, a programming cripple. That’s where Pascal got me.

My undergrad advisor at the University of Miami was a great instructor, but he gave me some really bad advice. He told me grad schools didn’t care about the physics GRE, so I shouldn’t waste time studying for it. Yeah…okay. The Pascal suggestion came from him, too.

I love MOOC sites. “MOOC” stands for something I don’t remember, but it basically means online education. I decided to check Udemy, Edx, and Coursera for C courses. I didn’t see anything I liked. There were a lot of C++ and C# offerings, but I read that these languages were not really C or helpful to C users, so I blew that off.

I decided to check Youtube, and I found a couple of good offerings which I will not link to. The best one for barely sentient beginners was run by a user called Thecodingschool or something similar. I started watching and doing exercises, but I soon realized they were crawling. It would take me a year to get anywhere. I looked for a book.

Amazon had a number of offerings. I looked at them and decided the one I wanted was a beginner’s guide by a guy named Kochan. As luck would have it, it’s available at an online lending library, so I am using that. I may buy the book or a Kindle version, though, because the library thing is hard to read.

The thing that surprises me is that I’m doing very well. I am finding C very easy. Pascal was a different experience, even though it’s basically the same thing. When I wrote Pascal programs, my absent-mindedness drove me up the wall. I left characters out or put them in the wrong places, and I would spend ages reading the same code over and over, looking for the booboos. This time I’m making mistakes, but finding and fixing them isn’t nearly as bad. I can’t explain why.

The book has programming exercises in it. I can’t stand them. It’s just too boring; when an activity is too dull, it slides off the brain like a blunt instrument. I had to make it more interesting, so instead of doing the exercises, I do things that are different but related to the exercises.

I can’t resist making the code silly. I think that’s hardwired into me. Here’s a program I wrote yesterday:


main ()
//int dancer, prancer; This didn’t work. Apparently you can’t divide two integers and get a float.
float dancer, prancer, vixen;

printf(“Enter a number: “);
scanf(“%f”, &dancer);
printf(“Enter another number, if you can think of one: “);
scanf(“%f”, &prancer);
vixen = dancer / prancer;
printf(“Here is %0.2f divided by %0.2f (to six places after the decimal), and that’s exciting: %0.6f.”, dancer, prancer, vixen);
//If you leave fflush in, the program stays open and waits for you to enter a key before giving you the final
//”enter any key” message. You have to hit 2 keys in order to make the CMD window close.
//The values %d and %i mean “integer.” They are fungible.
/*Here is another way of adding comments.*/


As you can see, I’m using the programs to do little experiments to answer questions, and I take notes inside the programs, to help me remember. Here, I tried to divide one integer by another and produce a float, which is a number that extends past the decimal point. The computer didn’t like it.

It beats printing “Hello World” over and over. Now that I think about it, my “Hello World” program was actually, “Hello, Fat Jackass.”


You have to do something to keep yourself awake.

My feeling now is that if you have to watch videos in order to learn this, you might as well kill yourself, because it will really hurt.

I’ve learned something new. A lot of our modern machines can be penetrated with programming. C, supposedly, is the king of languages for operating machinery. That includes robots and so on. So if you want to do anything really interesting with motors and whatnot, C is for you. Maybe I’m wrong, but that’s the impression I get from what others say.

I also found out that you can buy little robots and write code for them so they do stuff. I guess this is how we ended up with self-driving cars invading our privacy. There is a language called Pbasic, which I refuse to capitalize, which works with certain popular microcontrollers. You can get yourself an inexpensive robot and Pbasic it all over the place. I don’t know how much C would help a person who needs Pbasic, but it probably can’t hurt.

I plan to look into that if I ever get the lathe functioning correctly. I feel like it would make me feel less intimidated by the machinery around me. Maybe the computerized toaster and portable phones would tense up and start to sweat when I came into the room. That would be nice.

In other news, I completed Thucydides and started in on Plato’s Symposium. My short take on Thucydides: the Athenians were evil, disgusting people. They whined and moaned about excellence and virtue all the time, but they kept slaves in their homes, they destroyed other cities, they slaughtered untold thousands of people just for getting on their nerves, and they were colossal thieves. They were right up there with the Nazis. I have zero respect for them, even though I acknowledge their mental achievements.

The small amount I’ve read recently tells me I probably did not read The Symposium when I was at Columbia University, because I think I would remember the revulsion it engenders.

When I was at Columbia, I thought gay sex was just fine. I was not much of a Christian. I would not have been offended by the Athenian predilection for sodomy. What would have bothered me is the predilection for boys. The Athenians didn’t prey on their equals. They sodomized small boys and teens who were weaker and less informed. Even in my younger days, I would have been bothered by that.

The Symposium starts out with a long discussion of “love,” and by “love,” it means the phony, self-deluding love between an erastes (older sexual predator) and an eromenos (younger victim). If erastes looks familiar, it’s because it’s related to the word “pederast.”

A man (presumably a real person) stands up and says there are two types of love; a high kind and a low or common kind. The heavenly kind is the love a predator shares with a victim who is old enough to have sprouted the beginnings of a beard, and supposedly, it is largely based on a desire to help the younger victim improve himself. The low kind is the love a predator shares with a younger boy, who is simply a sexual device intended to satisfy lust.

This reasoning reminds me of the bilge spewed by molesters in Internet chat rooms. They say we don’t understand their pure, altruistic love. They say it’s good for the kids. They say kids consent, which is surely true sometimes. We still put the molesters away, and in prison, criminals still rape and kill them.

Somehow we’re supposed to accept this from the ancient Greeks, while we imprison people for it today. That’s crazy. It’s the same. Man’s laws change; that which is evil remains evil.

It’s remarkable that we have studied this work in our universities for so long. I can understand how it would have been popular in my youth, because universities were already pretty gross at that time. But I don’t understand how it could have passed inspection in 1900 or earlier.

My skin crawls when I read the book, but I want to get it over with, so I will continue. I think this is the book that mentions the cave and the ideal forms and so on. I will take whatever profitable information it has to offer and try to forget the rest.

Incidentally, people who get their Greek history from the movie 300 may be surprised to learn that the Spartans weren’t the big military power in ancient Greece, and they weren’t the leading sexual predators. The Athenians topped them (poor choice of words) in both regards. In the movie, Leonidas calls the violent, imperialist Athenians “boy-lovers,” but Plato’s book tells us the Spartans had a reputation for “common” love, or sex with very young boys.

I look forward to getting past the Greeks. I ordered Ovid and Vergil, so I will be reading the Romans before long.

The Kinks Should Write Our New National Anthem

Thursday, July 21st, 2016

Ask Your Sons What’s Going on at School

I read something interesting. Apparently a girl is suing to be allowed to use boys’ restrooms in a school somewhere.

Usually, Christians think of men as the restroom and locker room threat. Transsexualism is the new “medical” marijuana. Stoners go to sleazy doctors (or visit them online) and claim they have headaches, and the doctors go, “AWWWWWW,” and they give them prescriptions so they can smoke weed. Perverts say, “I think I’m a woman,” and next thing you know, they’re displaying their penises to girls in locker rooms, and anyone who questions it is treated like a…well, I was going to say “child molester,” but that doesn’t really fly any more. Anyone who questions it is treated like a hunter.

Men have drawn most of our attention, but girls and women also cause problems.

Imagine this. You’re 16. You’re in gym class. You walk to the locker room, you get ready for your shower, and at the locker next to you, a girl at her lifetime attractiveness peak strips off her clothes. She exposes her genitals, buttocks…the works. And then she goes to the shower with you and soaps up. Everything she has, the boys see. Everything they have, she sees, regardless of how they or their parents feel about it.

This is the new America.

One of the weird things about transsexuals is that they’re allowed to retain heterosexual urges. You can be a teen “trans man” and still want to have sex with boys. That will make for some interesting showers. I think it’s fair to assume there will be at least a few lonely, desperate girls who will say whatever it takes to get into locker rooms.

It’s pointless to say it’s insane. America belongs to Satan now. People don’t hear the Holy Spirit, because we rejected him. We hear lies, and we like them better than cotton candy. We hear every spirit that isn’t holy. Talking to us is like talking to tree stumps. Well, except that tree stumps can’t get you fired, burn your house, take everything you own, put you in prison, or execute you.

To Americans, the obvious truth sounds crazy, but we say Bruce Jenner is a woman without even pausing.

It’s so strange, watching the ship sink after I predicted it. God told me (and many others) what was going to happen, and we talked about it. Still shocking to see it materialize.

There is no place for us here. That’s probably the only thing I’ve written today that Satan’s people would agree with. We are being rejected by America’s immune system. We can keep climbing to smaller and smaller bits of high ground as the waters rise, but we can’t take the country back or make ourselves safe. Sooner or later, people who think the world needs to be relieved of our presence will have the government’s permission to get rid of us, and that will be that.

Maybe there will be a bounty on us. The Nazis put bounties on Jews.

I suppose there already is a bounty. The people who get fired for their beliefs lose their jobs to the devil’s slaves.

The best thing is to turn around and get close to God before things become intolerable. The sooner you get with the program, the sooner the benefits start to flow. The world is against you. America hates you. You need someone on your side. If you don’t align yourself with God, you’re just throwing yourself on Satan’s mercy and waiting to see how long it lasts. It’s like leaving your gun at home and relying on a strategy of talking sense to rapists.

Mercy isn’t Satan’s thing. It’s hateful to him. It’s hateful to his people. They’re not interested in it.

I feel alienated and disgusted when I look at my country today. Not just my country; my world. I have no use for this place, but here I am. I would love to get on the bus to heaven this afternoon. I would love to wake up tomorrow in a world where “he” means “he” and “she” means “she.” I would love knowing no one would abuse or mistreat me. I would love knowing my body was perfect and impervious to deterioration. Of course, we are kept here for a reason. We have to do our tours of duty, to help others escape.

My best guess is that the closer you are to God, the sooner he will remove you from this dungheap. That seems to be the pattern. It seems fairly clear that most Christians will be left here after the Rapture, to face the horror of the Tribulation. Jesus said he would take people who were doing his work. He’s probably not going to take people off of stripper poles.

In the past, it was realistic for an American Christian to look forward to raising a family and leaving a legacy. That’s not true any more. How can you be excited about raising kids in a teeming hive of perversion, anger, and persecution? America is becoming so filthy, it will soon be impossible to involve yourself in public life without being polluted beyond your emotional limit. A trip to the grocery will be like scuba-diving in a sea of excrement. What rational person can think about children and grandchildren now?

If I were an atheist or a “progressive” Christian, reading this blog would make my day. They want us gone. Hearing that they’re going to win should make them very happy. It should satisfy their craving for “vengeance.” Of course, they don’t believe in the judgment that comes after the conquest and genocide. The future always seems bright when you’re in a Satanic movement on the uptick. The Nazis called their twelve years of evil “the Thousand-Year Reich.”

I wonder when liberals will finally out themselves and admit that what they really hate about conservatism is its relationship with God. They hate defense of the unborn. They hate all types of sexual restraint. They hate public decency. They hate churches. They hate Israel. It’s obvious what their underlying motivation is.

They don’t like to come out and admit they hate God, although they did vote against him four times, on TV, at one of their conventions. I will never forget the look on Villaraigosa’s face; the way he looked at his bosses after the crowd voted against God, trying to get instructions.

And then he lied to the cameras.

Liberals are still somewhat afraid to curse God in public. Some are not; Dan Savage is an example. But ten years ago, Barack Obama was afraid to endorse gay marriage. Things change quickly. The minds and hearts of most Americans are like cities without walls. There is nothing to keep insane notions or behavior out.

Stephen Colbert and Jon Steward have real problems with God. People don’t seem to talk about it much. In 2010, they appeared at an outdoor “sanity” rally. Instead of sticking to politics, Stewart went after our belief in prophecy. He said, “We live now in hard times, not end times.” Now, during the week of the RNC convention, Colbert has joked, “Jon and I are very happy living off the grid, making jerky and canning our own urine for the end times.”

“End times,” of course, means the end of the current age, prior to the Rapture and Tribulation. They’re making fun of us for believing God’s prophets. Funny; they doesn’t seem to have anything negative to say about the flood of 2016 Ramadan murders. But that would take courage. Muslims shoot people for speaking. Criticizing Christians takes almost no courage at all.

Stewart flat-out contradicted our beliefs. Colbert ridiculed them. They didn’t have the courage to say Christianity is evil. Why come at us sideways, as Firefly’s Shepherd Book would have put it? Why not show some guts and say, “God isn’t real, and Jesus was not his son”? Because the devil doesn’t come in through the front door. He works his way in gradually. One day you find him sitting on your couch ordering your family around, and you can’t recall how he got there.

In the past, no one would have complained about a person who said girls should not be in boys’ locker rooms. Now, if anyone on the other side reads this, they’ll say I pick on children. Whatever is evil and brutal…that will be me. I will be treated the way people who put girls in boys’ locker rooms should be treated. Down is up, and up is down. We shouldn’t elect Trump. We should elect Bizarro.

Why write this stuff, since it does so little good, and since it may harm me? I’m not sure. At least I serve as a witness. People who might otherwise have claimed innocence will be subject to judgment because they read what I wrote. People who agree with me will feel less alone. Maybe people who live after I’m gone, in a world that is completely corrupted, will see what I wrote and use it to guide them to salvation.

Like Mr. Spock said, “In an insane society, the sane man must appear insane.” My view is healthy and normal. It shouldn’t be alarming. What should alarm you is finding that the world agrees with you.

If You Can’t Stand the Heat, Burn Down the Kitchen

Wednesday, July 20th, 2016

Gagging of Conservatives Continues on Social Media

Today I see that leftists are celebrating censorship again. This time the victim is Milo Ya…I’m not even going to try to spell it. It’s a gay conservative who works for Breitbart.com.

If I’m ignorant about the dispute that led up to the censorship, it’s not completely my fault. Milo was banned from Twitter, and whatever he said that upset people is now deleted. I Googled around, assuming every far-left Internet nut on the planet had screenshotted his offenses, but I can’t find any of it. Makes you wonder if he actually did anything wrong.

I don’t care about Milo’s work. I don’t know anything about it. I tried to read a movie review he wrote (the new Ghostbusters, and in all honestly, it was not very good. It verged on unreadable. There was no organization, and he didn’t produce many facts. It seemed that the article was a series of nearly unrelated paragraphs, in which he restated his dislike of the movie.

I know a tiny–and I do mean tiny–bit about Milo himself. He is gay, and he is provocative. He does things to upset people. Conservatives are giving him a ton of promotion. My educated guess? They want to say, “We’re gay, too. You don’t own gay.”

It won’t work. In America, conservatism is inextricably bound up with Christianity, and God does not have a rainbow sticker on the gates of heaven. It may be helpful to Christians if larger numbers of gays vote for conservative candidates, but if the conservative movement abandons God completely, we lose much of our incentive for supporting it. I would vote for a Christian-friendly Democrat before I would vote for a God-hating Republican. That choice doesn’t seem to come up, though.

Minority Republicans get a certain amount of promotion, too, and surely part of the reason is to remind minorities that you can be non-white and be accepted among our ranks. That’s somewhat more legitimate than promoting gays. Race doesn’t have to be a mental state; you can be black or purple or orange and be 100% on board with the conservative ethos. Non-whites do not change us. Homosexuality is different. When homosexuals enter the group, automatically, we have to change our positions in order to accommodate them.

Here is what people love to call “the narrative” in post-2000 America: Milo got into a Twitter fight with a Ghostbusters actress named Leslie Jones, and she is black. He bullied and tormented her on Twitter, he posted racist tweets (is “tweet” capitalized now?), and he reposted the racist tweets of others. She complained, and Twitter gave him a lifetime ban.

I can’t find his racist tweets. Someone dug up a 2015 racist tweet from Leslie Jones, but that’s all I’ve seen. I have seen some abusive tweets from people who took his side. Welcome to the web. Michelle Malkin gets worse treatment every day of her life, and has for years. I will never forget the comment from the loon who threatened to mutilate her genitals with his or her teeth.

Maybe Milo is a bad guy. On the other hand, there are some truly vile accounts that never get in trouble. Spike Lee sent black racists after the parents of George Zimmerman, and they had to leave their house. It’s my understanding that it’s okay to root for terrorists on Twitter, too.

A lifetime ban is going to be hard on a guy who is billed as a major website’s “tech” editor. It’s like telling a motivational speaker he’s banned from hotel ballrooms. I have a feeling it won’t stick, but maybe it will.

It’s an interesting story.

When the Founding Fathers wrote the First Amendment, they did not intend to protect porn merchants, in spite of what you may think, given the way it has been used. They had ONE major goal in mind: to enable people to speak about political matters. When you strike at political speech, you strike at the heart of the First Amendment.

The First Amendment was motivated by the behavior of British kings, who had been known to publicly castrate and disembowel people who said things they didn’t like. If you had tried to blog in England in 1776, they would have castrated and disemboweled you in front of a jeering crowd, and before you died, they would have fried your genitals and internal organs in front of you. Simply for saying the king was wrong.

There was no Twitter when the Constitution was written. You could publish a newspaper, or you could write a book or simply stand up in your local bar and mouth off. It was very much like life in the 1980’s. No one depended on the Internet to make his voice effective. There was no danger that half of the population (the left half) would have a tremendous communication advantage over the other half, because of access to a medium provided by corporations. That has changed.

In 2016, merely being allowed to speak to your neighbor or wear a T-shirt does not put you on an equal footing with others. You need Twitter, Facebook, Youtube, blogs, and whatever else is out there. With social media, Milo was able to make a noise comparable to the noise someone like Lena Dunham can make. Without it, he may as well go home and yell into the toilet.

It’s not easy for leftists to violate the First Amemdment, which protects people from government censorship. It’s very easy for them to violate the spirit of the First Amendment and nullify it through private censorship. It’s a beautiful thing. If you like censorship.

For a long time, I’ve been saying that conservatives would eventually be driven off the web. The liberals who run companies like Facebook and Twitter are immune to First Amendment challenges. Blogspot belongs to a liberal-run company; blogs are not safe, either. Milo’s case shows how easy it is to silence us.

Things were different a few years back. Blogs were big. Remember blogs? I don’t mean corporate websites pretending to be blogs. I don’t mean The Huffington Toast or Wonkette. I mean sites like this one. Most blogs were run by individuals who had no corporate affiliation, and many of the top blogs were operated out of studies and bedrooms. That ended some time back. The big blogs are fake. They’re run by companies that pay for promotion. Many of them pay writers. We were allowed to sit at the big boys’ table for a while, and then they came and kicked us out. Predictable. I know, because I predicted it.

Real blogs are not very important now. We have become addicted to “free” social media sites. Does it really make sense to call any site that tracks you and feeds you ads “free”? Anyway, we loved the convenience and the instant audiences. So we gave up our autonomy.

Now we broadcast our opinions at the pleasure of leftists. They can unplug the machine whenever they like, and there is nothing we can do. If we sue, they can say, “We don’t have to obey the First Amendment. We are not the government.”

Can we complain? I don’t mean, “Are we able to complain?” It looks like we are losing that ability. I mean, “Do we have a right to complain?” I don’t think so. We put our own heads in the noose. Did we really think atheist tech nerds were going to give us a fair shake? Besides, people like me warned everyone.

If you can only speak in private, the First Amendment is useless. That’s the future we face. We will be pushed out of liberal-run forums. Then they’ll find a way to come after blogs, which are, after all, hosted by corporations.

Interesting times.

It reminds me of the problems people have when they lose their driver’s licenses. The courts always remind us, “It’s a privilege; not a right.” You don’t have a Constitutional right to drive. But if you can’t drive, you might as well be crippled. In most parts of the country, pedestrian status will make it impossible for you to compete in the job market. You don’t have a right to Tweet, either, and if you depend on Twitter to make money, you better kiss the ring.

What if the conservative movement can be persuaded to divorce Jesus? In that case, everything changes. Conservatives will persecute Christians right beside liberals, and presumably, Christians and Jews will be the only ones who are ostracized. Any way you slice it, Christians will be pushed aside.

What can you do? Nothing. So I don’t get upset about it. I just blog my observations and wait for them to be proven right. I am thrilled to be disconnected from social media, and I have no plans to fight anyone about social media abuses. I don’t care about things that are doomed to fail. It’s a waste of the space in my heart.

The Civil War Within the Next Civil War

Tuesday, July 19th, 2016

Minorities Have Minorities

Last night I was thinking about the police shootings again, and I realized there will be a schism I hadn’t thought about. The split between blacks and everyone else is an obvious result, but there will also be a sort of cold civil war among blacks themselves.

If things get worse and go completely nuts, black people who don’t agree with Only Black Lives Matter will be very concerned about having the smell of chaos attach itself to them. People who have worked hard to become successful, unhyphenated Americans won’t want to be lumped in with folks who make entire cities dangerous for those who don’t look like them. They won’t want to be rejected at work or socially. They won’t want to appear to condone self-destructive victimhood myths.

What will they do? They certainly won’t be able to change their families and neighbors. They will not be accepted. The loneliest black people on earth are the ones who refuse to go along with the program of blaming others. They get called “Tom,” “sellout,” and “house n____r” all day, every day. Stacey Dash actually received death threats simply for endorsing Romney. Those threats didn’t come from white Mormons.

They’ll have to try to join the rest of us. That won’t be easy. Increasingly, racism is developing a grip on non-blacks, including conservatives. You can see it in Internet comments; always a window on the cesspool that is the collective soul. Over and over, when a story involving black people who behave badly pops up, you will see the n-word, plus terms like “apes” and “animals.” Hatred among non-black people is getting worse. When blacks who are rejected by other blacks look for acceptance and help, will we be around to let them in? BLM is helping the enemy close doors to them. It’s making people afraid of them.

I prefer to use the term “non-black” instead of “white,” since it’s more accurate. Blacks don’t just have problems with white people. Get to know some Asians and see. Get to know some Cubans; they have a very serious problem with anti-black feeling.

It reminds me of the problem early Jewish Christians faced. They were hated by the Romans because they were Jews. They were hated by other Jews because they were Christians. Even today, a Jew can be an atheist or a Satanist and still be considered a Jew, but if you accept Jesus, they claim you’re no longer one of them.

Black people who don’t listen to the race hustlers may have an even harder time in the future than they do now.

I used to think people should cling to their cultures. I was proud of my own Appalachian culture, because of, you know, all the Nobel prizes that have gone to West Virginia. I was crazy. We should all be eager to adopt the best parts of various cultures and flush the rest down the toilet. Some cultures are better than others. Not “different.” “Better.” It’s disgraceful to hold onto reeking garbage simply because you have pride on behalf of your segment of society.

The Bible agrees with me. In the Old Testament, people who married Jews and lived in Israel were supposed to become Jews. Solomon disagreed, and he practiced tolerance. He died a failure and a disgrace, ruled by his unclean pagan wives. Paul cautioned Christians not to be unequally yoked. Jesus was 100% intolerant of other religions.

There is no Jew or Gentile in Christ, and there is no black or non-black, either. There is no Black Students Lounge or Whites-Only fountain in heaven. There is only one race there. If we made a better effort to join it down here, we would not have the division we have today.

Your race isn’t people who look like you; it’s people who are led by the Holy Spirit. Your family isn’t people who share genes with you; it’s people who are led by the Holy Spirit. The Spirit-led are the people you’re supposed to side with. We can’t accept that, so we have riots and hate crimes.

We should know this, but we aren’t interested in learning. We go to church so God can make us feel better, so we can continue to sin. It’s like leaving a football game to get the trainer to give you Vicodin, so you can continue playing injured. We don’t want to change or admit we’re wrong.

This is why America is lost.

I have no hope at all for the world or America. Prophecy and common sense say failure is a certainty. On the other hand, I have complete confidence in the victory of the Spirit-led. The greatest power in existence is behind us. You can grab the lifeline and do well, or you can take your chances with the rioters and fools.

I’m not going to identify with a race if I can help it. I’m not going to hold onto the poisonous parts of my heritage. I can’t make anyone else agree, but I hope a lot of other people take the same position. I have to want the Spirit-led to increase and win. After all, they’re my nation.

Cop-Killing is the New Hula Hoop

Monday, July 18th, 2016

Fabrics Rip Most Easily Where They’re Already Torn

It’s exciting to have God show you things, but the excitement can make you forget the seriousness of the subjects. Something for me to think about today as the murders of innocent policemen continue.

God showed me that our society was going to decay and fall into chaos. Now the edge of the tapestry has started to tear. I’m glad I was right to believe what I heard, but it’s sobering to think about the destruction and suffering that are descending on us.

We have three new mass murderers to add to our history’s list: Lakeem Keon Scott, Micah Johnson, and Eugene Gavin Long. There are also a few new murderers who only shot one cop, and there are a number of people who were arrested before managing to kill anyone.

We now have enough incidents to constitute the beginning of a fad.

Demonic activity is increasing in America. Crazy behavior is on the upswing. Black Lives Matter and the cop killings are part of it.

God showed me that the devil makes the fastest progress in people who are already defeated. That’s why we’re seeing strange activity from sexual deviants and minorities. These are people who were in spiritual trouble before the ship started sinking, so they are the fastest to drown.

Obviously, I’m not saying every minority member is going to go crazy. But if you know blacks and poor Hispanics, you know a high percentage of them live in defeat. The ones who aren’t rooted in the Holy Spirit are particularly susceptible to demonic influence, just as drug addicts and alcoholics are.

On average, white people are a little better off, but we will fall, too. We deny the Holy Spirit. When we acknowledge him, it’s mainly in churches dedicated to greed. We may take longer to fall apart, but it’s coming.

Minority racism is a real problem in America, and because we are terrified of criticizing minorities, no one does anything to correct it. Minority “thinkers” have even crafted an evil excuse: they say you can’t be a racist if you “have no power.” So if you’re black, you can’t be a racist.

What hogwash. If a black person can’t be a racist, what do you call a black person who hates non-blacks and calls on others to kill them? What’s the name for that? Is it a good thing? If you’re black, and you have a son with this issue, do you pat him on the head and tell him how glad you are?

Liberals always like to play with words.

Last night I went to Eugene Long’s Youtube page, to see what he said about race. I saw appalling comments from black people, defending him and calling him a martyr. It’s not a rare mindset. We like to think it is, but it’s not. Ask a black friend and see.

There are a lot of brainwashed people out there who seriously believe violence is the answer to anti-black racism. They think there will be a war, and that they will win. They seriously believe 12% of the population can defeat the rest. How do you counter that kind of insanity?

Assuming the rest of us are defeated, where will jobs come from in the new America? If you take our businesses, where will you work? Will 12% of the population be able to replace us as executives and business owners? Will 12% of the population be able to provide an all-black police force that keeps us in line?

There is no plan. There is no forethought. Just a sense of being defeated, coupled with violent rage looking for a target.

None of it makes any sense.

The president is not helping. Nothing new there. He should be saying the FBI will go after every cop-killer, and he should be saying the killers are cowards and morons. Instead, he says it would be helpful if the police admitted fault and tried to change.

I believe the violence will escalate, because there is no reason why it shouldn’t. There is a huge pool of potential offenders, raised on angry music and race-baiting. The supply has barely been tapped. If things do escalate, it will be the biggest setback black people have ever experienced in America.

We are in danger of ending up with a country in which no non-black person is safe in any area where there is a large concentration of black people. It won’t matter if many or most black people are against the violence. It only takes a few nuts to render a neighborhood radioactive. What happens then? If you think it’s hard to get businesses to locate in black areas now, wait till Wal-Mart has to start armoring the cabs of its trucks. Non-blacks will quietly pull back, taking money and opportunity with them.

What are human resource people thinking right now? If they were looking for excuses to exclude black people five years ago, what will they be thinking now that murdering cops and whites is becoming a trend? There are laws against racism in hiring, but in the end, they only work if people cooperate. You can turn a lot of applicants away without getting caught. It will happen. Wait and see.

Voluntary social segregation–the kind you can’t forbid with laws–will increase. People will be afraid to get to know each other. Who will suffer most? Not the 88%.

When bad things happen to America, black people are generally among those who get hit hardest, and it’s not because of racism. Human beings cause most of their own problems. AIDs and other social diseases, drugs, crime, illegitimacy, poverty, prison…these things land disproportionately on black people. When the devil attacks, the vulnerable are the first to fall. No one should be surprised to see America’s collapse starting this way.

God showed me that we have to be very serious about being the head and not the tail. Greedy preachers love to preach the line that says God will bless people by making them the head and not the tail, but they don’t understand what it means. They think it means you give Kenneth Copeland or some similar slimeball your money, and then God fights your enemies and makes you win the lottery. That’s not it at all. It means you have to stand up for God and be a leader, and that if you do that, you will be dominant on earth. You may not be dominant in the way you desire, but you will be blessed and protected.

If people you hate have power over you, it doesn’t mean there’s a white Illuminati conspiracy to keep the black master race down. It means you’re the tail and not the head, because you aren’t aligned with God. If this is your problem, you don’t just have an opportunity to correct it; you have an obligation. You are supposed to serve God effectively on earth, and you can’t do that if you’re a follower and not a leader.

I’m not making the conspiracy and master race stuff up. You should hear what murderer Eugene Long said in his Youtube videos. He told ignorant people whites are putting things in black people’s food to prevent them from rising up and assuming power. And they were buying it, with no hesitation.

He said–I am not kidding here–“It hurts our melanin.” As if melanin gave people super powers.

If you’re not black, you may not have heard this kind of crazy talk before, but it’s all over the place. Lunatics like Long don’t just think blacks should be equal; they think blacks are genetically superior, and that they’re supposed to be our masters.

Long belonged to the Nation of Islam, the fringe cult that murdered Malcolm X. They believe white people were created in a laboratory by an evil scientist. They don’t believe we’re human. Look it up.

Anyway, if you’re not submitted to God, you’re submitted to Satan. There is no neutrality. If you’re submitted to Satan, you’re the tail and not the head. People you don’t like will have power over you. You will have suffering you can’t control. That’s the nature of life. Eugene Long was apparently very angry because people he hated had power over him. The answer to that problem is to align yourself with the greatest power there is, and to share in his authority. But to do that, you have to admit fault and examine yourself constantly. You can’t sit around blaming others and claiming the world owes you an empire. Power brings responsibility; it’s a package deal.

Long supported Elijah Muhammad, the man who ordered the murder of Malcolm X. Crazy.

It doesn’t matter what color you are. God wants you. He will help you. He will fight your enemies, including your white enemies. You don’t have to feel like a second-class citizen anywhere.

You can’t fix things by pretending to be a victim and rejecting accountability. No one on this planet is good. No one who has the awareness to ground accountability deserves anything but hell. Denying your faults just prevents God from helping you.

It looks like we are entering an age of interracial guerrilla warfare. As experience has taught us, guerrilla warfare is the hardest kind to defeat. There are no authorities to offer surrender. There is no organization. There are no uniforms. Kill one guerrilla, and another one pops up. If this is really what’s about to start here, it may never stop, and it will devastate American blacks.

Islamists are using guerrilla tactics against us, and we have seen that we can’t stop it. They can’t destroy us, but they can bite and sting us from now until doomsday. It’s a bad situation. It will be worse when a larger segment of the population takes the same position.

Non-blacks aren’t going to reciprocate in any significant way. There will be a few kooks who murder black people in reprisal, but basically, our response will be to stay in our neighborhoods and lock the doors. Even if hate spreads among us, and it probably will, very few of us will be motivated to commit violent acts, simply because we won’t have to. We can protect ourselves by refusing to engage.

Black leaders need to rise up and warn people, but most of them won’t. They can’t stand up and gainsay their own decades-old, moneymaking narrative. If they want to continue to get paid, they’ll have to keep blaming the rest of America. If they do warn others, they’ll probably do it in a backhanded way: “I understand how angry the vile racist oppression in this white-controlled system makes you, but you have to show restraint.”

I envy people who live in the country. If you can’t make people who hate you disappear, at least you can live far enough away so they don’t want to make the drive to persecute you.

I wish I had positive things to say about America. I do not. I have extremely positive things to say about individual human beings. Any individual can get God’s help.

Happy Days Aren’t Here Again

Friday, July 15th, 2016

The Devil Won

It’s funny how prayer in tongues changes people.

I have a young friend who is in college. He lives near me. We get together from time to time. Five years ago, he would have been 100% on board with Black Lives Matter and the Obama administration. He swallowed the victimhood lie whole and repeated it. It poisoned his life and prevented him from succeeding.

Yesterday, without prompting, he started telling me how discouraged he was with the world. He said he had hoped to marry and have kids, but because the world was getting so crazy, he didn’t mind if God opened the sky up immediately and put an end to this age. He specifically cited BLM as an example of the craziness that has taken over.

The Holy Spirit did that. This young man has been praying in tongues for several years, and he has been increasing the time he puts in. His whole outlook has changed.

I feel the same way he does. If the world ended today, I would be thrilled to death. America is lost. The losers and nutbars took over. We love sin, pride, and anger, so we love and serve Satan. The loser spirits that serve Satan rule us now. It’s not going to get better. It’s going to get worse. We are too stupid and arrogant to change.

Don’t look at our location. Look at our direction. That’s what matters. Our location is not that bad. Our direction is terrible, and it’s fixed.

People who think they’re Christians have decided to rewrite scripture and make new rules for God. We love fornication. We love anger and pride. We decided God had to change; we decided things that were obviously wrong were right. Of course, God has not changed. If he changed, the universe would be taken over by evil. He is the anchor that makes the universe just.

We decided God was the child and we were the parents, so now Christians lack God’s support, just like kids who quit college and expect their parents to finance their pole-dancing careers. Segments of society that used to be weak and relatively harmless are now very powerful. We run from the people who used to run from us.

In the future, I expect to see a gigantic explosion of sexual perversion. Sexual sin has turned out to be the single biggest yoke Satan uses to control us, and there is no reason why that shouldn’t continue. You stick with what works. Sexual deviants used to make up one or two percent of the population. As demonic influence increases and Satan cements his domination, that number will rise. There is no reason why it can’t be 80% or 90%. We may be biologically wired a certain way, but supernatural influence is stronger than biology.

We will see more cruelty and persecution. We’ve already reached the point where every normal Christian who says abnormal sex is sinful–something obvious– is called a “hater” and threatened with exclusion from the marketplace. In the future, firing us and fining us won’t be enough. We’ll be beaten, imprisoned, and killed.

People think it’s not possible. If it can happen in sophisticated countries like Germany and Poland, it can happen anywhere. People who are not guided and protected by the Holy Spirit are capable of anything.

I feel very good about losing my emotional attachment to this place. I was never part of it to begin with; I wanted to fit in, but I was chasing something I was never going to be allowed to have. On top of that, the thing I was chasing was garbage. Life here lasts around 80 years, and almost all of what we do will be destroyed, because it has no importance to God. We all age. We all fall apart and die. Getting caught up in what happens here is a mistake.

A hundred years from now, people who seem like winners will be dead. George Clooney will be a pile of dust. Bill Gates will be eaten by worms. Nothing here lasts. Even now, Michael Jordan can’t play basketball. Carl Lewis can’t run fast. People may leave legacies that impress others for a few centuries, but what good does that do, when those people are in hell? Buddha is probably in hell. Mohammed is probably in hell. How much comfort can it be to them, if people who are not in hell yet admire them and follow them?

There are some things that last. If you help someone get to know the Holy Spirit, you will have that treasured relationship for eternity, in a place where there is no persecution or worry. In heaven, there is no disgruntled underclass or counterculture. Those beings are on earth and in hell, and in the future, they will be far away, burning forever. They won’t be allowed anywhere near us. They won’t get to talk. They won’t get to sue. They won’t get to argue.

That’s worth working for.

Heaven isn’t a democracy. There are no elections there. Brutish, cruel people won’t get to vote or even voice an opinion. They won’t be there. God will be on the throne, and he will rule. Every decision he makes will be perfect and right. There will be no discord, because we will all agree with him. One of the great benefits of heaven is the presence of God, but don’t forget the other benefit: the absence of Satan and every other evil, useless being.

How nice that will be. No disease, no rot, no wear, no violence. No lies. Wonderful.

It sounds cruel to celebrate the absence of beings that are damned to eternal suffering, but it’s not their suffering we will celebrate. It’s just the absence of the suffering they inflict.

One of the blessings the Bible promises is long life. That’s the only one I’m not excited about. Back when America was a safe place for Christians, long life was something to hope for. Now it’s like having your combat mission requirement extended. No wonder Paul was glad when he was sentenced to death; he lived in a pagan nation, just like the one we are becoming.

It’s frustrating to see Christians talk about changing the world. There are denominations that claim we’re supposed to make the world a nice place. They think being nice is all that matters. You can sin all you want, as long as it’s not mean sin.

That’s not how it works. The world has a terminal condition; we can’t fix it. Niceness is not the goal. The goal is to be led by the Holy Spirit, regardless of what he asks. Misplaced niceness is sin. Saul was cursed for it.

You can’t have love without correction. You can’t have correction without criticism. If you want to destroy someone, the best way to do it is to tell him he’s right about everything, from the day he’s born. Our prisons are full of people who have endless self-esteem. If you care about people, you tell them the truth so they can change. We’re not interested in that. We want to be told that we’re martyrs and victims. We want someone to blame; someone we can torture and abuse with complete justification. Doesn’t matter who it is, as long as we get to be harsh with others and not ourselves.

I wish there were more preachers telling people we’ve lost. If they were honest with us, we would make some effort to look after ourselves. We would try to get as close to God as possible, to maximize his help and protection. As it is, stinking predators and ignoramuses stand in pulpits telling us how unbelievers and the bad old devil cause all our problems. We’re just perfect. The universe is wrong.

They keep us asleep, like Samson on the lap of Delilah. No wonder our enemies keep winning.

I hope Donald Trump wins. I hope God will put him in the White House and use him to give Christians a little time to prepare as well as they can. I don’t know if I’ll even bother praying about the next election. What can I tell God? “Give us four more years, and we’ll be completely different than we have been since the fall of Adam?” Not likely. I don’t want to have to sell that pitch.

God has limited patience. The first time he killed the entire human race, he gave us 120 years to straighten up, and then the axe fell. Sooner or later, he will stop striving with modern man. I am not sure I should pressure him to indulge us more than he already has.

When you start hearing from God, your expectations and hopes will change. It will be a positive thing, but it will not be positive in every way. Might as well expect it. In this age, God is not going to turn everything around and make the world a magical kingdom of happiness and giggles, like Willie Wonka’s factory.

God isn’t going to change the world to suit you. He wants to change you, to suit his will. Your personality is supposed to be like his, and that happens through the growth supplied by the Holy Spirit. It’s all about internal improvement. The external things are just signs that the inside is fixed. And it’s the internal things that bring happiness and success.

It would be nice to live in a country where people loved God’s ways and were less likely to try to destroy me, but those days are over. It could be worse. I could live in Burma or Saudi Arabia. I could be in prison for owning Bibles. In America, that’s still a few years off.

Think about your goals. Are they eternal, or are they completely useless? If not, why do you chase them? You can keep what God puts inside you. You can keep people who make it to heaven with you. The rest will burn.

That’s my cheery Friday message. Whether it brings you pleasure depends on what you do with it.

I Don’t Accept Cookies

Thursday, July 14th, 2016

Buckets of Pure Cocaine Would be Safer

The weight-maintenance-cookie plan was a disaster of Hindenburgian completeness. I have firmly concluded that it is not possible to adjust my calorie intake using cookies made from my own recipe.

I was doing just fine using Oreos. I ate three or four a day, just to take the edge off and restore my mental functions. I figured there was no reason better cookies wouldn’t do the same thing, cheaper and more enjoyably.

The batch of cookies I made from scratch is completely gone. It vanished in two days. I could not stay away from them. They taunted me They jeered at me. And now they are no more.

Lesson learned. Night before last I picked up a new bag of Oreos, and yesterday I put them to use. I went through a grand total of three. Oreos just don’t have the temptation punch my own cookies have.

The oatmeal cookies I made were stupendous, but now I can’t have them. One more recipe I can’t use. Dang it.

I wonder if I could come up with a recipe for mediocre cookies. Probably not. It seems like anything that comes out of a home oven beats anything that comes from a plastic bag.

Oreos have gone nuts. Things got weird thirty or forty years ago when they came out with “Double Stuf” Oreos. Someone at Nabisco realized fat people were only buying the cookies for the filling. Now they have “Mega Stuf.” Next they’ll have “Pure Stuf” or “Gallon Can o’ Stuf.”

They have birthday-cake-flavored Oreos now. Wonder what that’s like. Do they come pre-sprayed with spit, to simulate the blowing out of candles?

American consumers are not hard to please. The buying habits of chubby ladies prove this.

When I was a kid, Nestle started selling raw cookie dough so incredibly lazy people could use it to make cookies. At some point we all accepted reality: fat girls were buying it to eat out of the tube. Now you can buy ice cream and protein bars made to taste like raw cookie dough.

Prefab cookie dough is very popular, but the thing is, it’s not good. I don’t know what Nestle puts in their dough to serve as shortening, but I’m confident it’s not butter. The dough tastes sort of like toothpaste with sugar in it. People love it anyway.

My cookie experience shows how things really are: the supermarket junk we think is good is actually pretty lame. We like it because we’re lazy. The British have a saying: “Hunger is the best sauce.” I would say laziness is second best. When you get off your rear end and make real cookies, or even cookie dough, you understand the depth of the compromises you’ve made in the past.

God has given me more strength to turn food down, but there are some things I still have to stay away from. I can’t keep bags of fun size Snickers in the freezer. I can’t keep miniature Reese’s cups on the coffee table. And I can’t keep homemade cookies anywhere near me.

I feel like he’s helping me get off caffeine again. A long time ago he showed me that caffeine destroys peace. I quit drinking it. But when I had to take over my dad’s business affairs, I jumped off the wagon. The boredom of using Quickbooks and straightening up chaotic files was more than my mortal frame could stand. Now things are more orderly, and I have to give up the crutch. I do not want to spend the rest of my life feeling peppy and cheerful until noon and then crabby and crotchety for the rest of the day. I don’t want to have to take Benadryl to get to sleep.

God changes peoples habits, and it seems like he really hits hard in the beverage department. You find yourself cutting way back on alcohol. Sugary sodas turn into occasional treats. Fruit juices are just sugary soda without the gas, so they’re not the answer. That leaves coffee and tea, right? Wrong. Caffeine.

Today I’m going to get a bag of decaffeinated coffee beans. I can’t drink room temperature bottled water at breakfast every day. I am not ready for that.

I’m still fooling with the CNC mini-lathe. I got it to function with Mach3, the most popular home CNC machine-running program. I haven’t been able to get it to work with KMotionCNC, the nerdier, learning-curve-heavy free program that came with my controller board.

I think the people who made the board don’t care about lathes. They’re not going to come out and say that, but it seems to be true. Their program comes with a little viewing window that shows you an animated movie of your cutting tool at work. It’s set up perfectly for a big milling machine, but if you try to scale it for a lathe, it looks ridiculous. The software doesn’t give you a way to fix that.

The documentation that came with the boards says you need to know the computer language C in order to really understand what the software does. For that reason, I looked around for C courses yesterday. I tried Udemy and Edx. I wasn’t too impressed. C is an old language, and if I understand things correctly, it has morphed into newer languages like C++ and C# (C sharp). The online course offerings for plain old C aren’t that great. I decided to settle for a Youtube course.

The instructor said I had to get a compiler called Dev-C++, which is free. Right away I had problems. He uses version 4-something in the videos, and the current version is 5-something. It looks and works a little differently. So far I’ve been able to figure it out.

A compiler is a program that takes the code you write and turns it into program files. For example, you might write 30 lines of C or Pascal or whatever code, describing a program that lets you enter two numbers and then adds them and prints the result. You feed this into the compiler, and an “exe” file comes out the other end. When you want to experience the thrill of adding two integers, you double-click on “add.exe” or whatever you named it, and the program appears in a little DOS window (assuming it runs in DOS).

The first (only) language I learned was Pascal. I had to learn it in college. I used a compiler made by Borland. It was called Turbo Pascal. Dev-C++ is surely capable of much bigger things than Turbo Pascal, but to the user it looks pretty similar.

I learned a few things that were almost, but not quite, interesting. For example, the nerd term “ported” is a corruption that comes from “portable.” When you move a program from one OS to another, it’s portable, so you are–nails on a blackboard sound–“porting.” I can’t actually remember the other things, so I guess they truly were not interesting.

Here is how much interest I have in programming: zero, or even a large negative number. But if it will help me not have to go to surly, condescending nerds for help with technical stuff, I am all for it.

I’m still trying to figure out what kind of screws I need to make the lathe work well. At first I thought any ball screw would work. Then I found out some ball screws are very crude, so buying such a screw would fail to help or even make things worse. Then I found out there are levels of accuracy, designated “C” this or that, and I learned that most affordable screws were C7, which didn’t seem good enough.

After that, I read that the rigidity of the machine and the skill of the user make more difference than the quality of the screws. Is this true? I don’t know. The truth is a jittery target that skitters away every time I try to draw a bead on it.

A guy who supposedly knows a whole lot claims a plain old Acme screw will do fantastic work if you set it up right, and he says rigidity is more important than worrying about the number that comes after “C.” So maybe I need to buy a C7 screw in a big diameter; 3/4″ or better. I can do that for around a hundred bucks, if I go Taiwanese.

I’ve wondered why Acme screws were not considered useful. If I machine manually, I can get accuracy within a thousandth of an inch, relying on Acme screws and hand dials. Somehow that is not possible with a machine tool. You would think the computer would get better accuracy out of a screw than I can, but it looks like it doesn’t.

The topic is insanely complicated. Good screws aren’t the end of the discussion. For really accurate machining, some people use “screw mapping.” As I understand it, this means examining the screw with precision instruments and recording all its imperfections, so the computer will know to apply the correct compensation at every point on the screw.

Obviously, I am not going to do that. If I can get parts to measure within 0.002″ of spec, I will be the happiest man on earth. I’m not making crucial parts that prevent hydrogen bombs from going off. I don’t have to have perfection.

Now that the machine functions, I have to figure out how to design parts. I have a workable CAD program. I have to decide how to turn the CAD files into Gcode Mach3 can digest. I’m using Fusion360, from Autodesk, for CAD. It’s free. Not sure if it goes past CAD. I should design a part and see where I have to go with it.

Some day when I have room, I’ll get a mill. It will be a real CNC mill. I won’t spend my life on Ebay looking for bearings and screws. I’ll just place an order and wait for the machine. That will be nice. It doesn’t have to be big. Just sort of mid-sized, and it has to be something I can operate without pulling my hair out.

The CNC lathe will be very useful, but if you want CNC, what you really want is a mill. In fact, if you want to machine, period, you want a mill. I do not understand people who claim lathes are better. Most of the time, when you need a part, it will be something a mill can make easily, yet which a lathe can only make with weird, denial-reinforcing attachments.

If you want to make pens all day, sure, get a lathe. You’ll wish you had a mill, though.

Whatever you do with CNC, buy lots of plastic. You do NOT want to practice on metal parts. You will crash, and the crashes will damage your machine and cutting tools. Plastic will give, and it will provide a nice buffer between your mistakes and your checking account. Also, remember you can run programs in an animation window with the motors turned off. If the program looks funny in the animation, you do not want to run it with the motors on.

You can practice with wood instead of plastic, but it makes a mess.

Is this information useful to you? My hopes are not high, but I don’t care, because writing it was a very effective means of procrastination. I got what I wanted.

It’s not Good to be the King

Wednesday, July 13th, 2016

We are Really, Really Stupid

Working my way back over the Columbia University Lit. Hum. syllabus has helped me make some positive changes in my life. I guess I should not say “back,” since I probably skipped half of the reading when I was a snotty-nosed undergrad (now I’m a snotty-nosed geezer or “overgrad”). Anyway, things are getting better.

Lit. Hum. has reminded me that reading (books, not Google search results and Wikipedia) is a good thing. It has also reminded me that it’s not okay to stuff your mind with cotton candy all the time. You can’t spend ten hours a day watching Naked and Afraid and Spongebob Squarepants and not expect to find the equivalent of termites and dry rot when you examine the walls of the house that is your mind.

I think about this when I set the DVR. Okay, shut up. Yes, it’s TV, but you can’t survive without a little TV. It’s a great thing to have when you’re doing something that doesn’t occupy your brain.

I look for good stuff to watch. I record Modern Marvels, for example. Also historical shows. I found a bunch of Shakespeare plays on Turner Classic Movies, and I recorded them. Unfortunately, you really need to read the plays before watching performances, so I added work to my life.

Last night Marv and I checked out a 1970 production of King Lear, which was on the reading list a thousand years ago in my Lit. Hum. class.

I have a soft spot for this play, because it got me one of the only two compliments I ever received from instructors at Columbia. I wrote a paper on it, and my prof. wrote “Absolutely brillant” on the first page. That felt pretty good. Better than being told to get out a couple of years later. The memory of that remark was helpful to me later in life, when people were working hard to convince me I was stupid and worthless.

Last night as I watched, I was surprised to see how much of it I remembered. I’m surprised when I remember anything. But little bits of it got away from me, and I decided I should look at the text. Naturally, it’s available free on your smartphone. Believe it or not, I found an MIT page that had the whole play. I guess MIT students do have to speak English and read an occasional book that wasn’t written by Paul Dirac or an Indian guy.

When I started reading the text, I saw that the movie omitted about half of the material. Good Lord. Who does that? It’s like the famous story about the Arab theater owner who saved time while showing The Sound of Music by cutting out the songs. Who edits Shakespeare?

I deleted the movie from the DVR. I will find another source. I’m sure the play is on Youtube or something.

Apparently, getting your Shakespeare from movies is about as smart as learning history from movies. No, Thomas Jefferson was not a transgendered black womyn who wore a Che T-shirt. George Washington wasn’t gay. JFK was not assassinated by NRA operatives recruited by Jerry Falwell. Read a book and see.

I was only a few lines into the play when I was stricken by a fresh understanding of how stupid modern Americans are.

Shakespeare lived about 400 years ago, but he knew things we do not know today. He understood human nature. He understood that the universe was ordered, and that we were not at the top of the food chain. He knew that people had to cultivate virtue, or they would be no better than rats.

We don’t know these things today. We’ve been taught that “Question Authority” is a commandment. Most people are too stupid to question authority. That’s why it’s authority. If we all did what we thought was right, 99% of us would spend our entire lives screwing up. Oh, wait. That’s actually happening.

The writers we admire today are idiots compared to Shakespeare. They entertain, but they don’t enlighten. Take Hemingway. He was a fake; a poser. He was absorbed in convincing everyone he was the strongest, manliest man who ever manned. He rubbed his phony manliness in our faces. He talked about eating mussels alive and watching them squirm when he put lemon juice on them. He talked about the “comical” way horses looked when they were gored in the bull ring and their intestines dragged behind them.

No one really thinks that’s comical. You could have the male hormones of a thousand goats and Charlie Sheen and still not find it comical.

Where is the wisdom in that? Nowhere. If you want to be a poser, Hemingway and other posers (like Kerouac) are wonderful guides. They will help you grow up to be a little boy who thrives on denial. You can be the grown equivalent of the little boy who gets up and dances on his desk to get the teacher’s attention.

I remember that kid. His name was John Simmons.

Hemingway tried his he-man routing on boxer Gene Tunney, who got tired of trying to warn Hemingway off and gave him a carefully administered “little liver punch” that took all the color out of him and put an end to his manly act.

Shakespeare extolled things like honesty, humility, altruism, and knowing one’s place. That would never fly today.

Most people don’t understand Shakespeare. For example, they think Romeo and Juliet is a wonderful love story about two crazy kids who told their uptight parents to jam it and enjoyed a tragic but beautiful romance. That’s not true. To Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet were immature, selfish brats who ruined their own lives and wrecked their families.

In King Lear, the King hands his kingdom over to two nasty, insincere daughters who refuse to flatter him, and he disowns the honest daughter who really loves him yet refuses to stroke his ego. Here is what his advisor, Kent, says, after Lear warns him that his own anger is like an arrow about to leave the bow:

Let it fall rather, though the fork invade
The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly,
When Lear is mad. What wilt thou do, old man?
Think’st thou that duty shall have dread to speak,
When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour’s bound,
When majesty stoops to folly.

Here is what Kent would say today. “Yo. It’s cool. No judging here.”

Kent is saying he would rather be shot with an arrow than fail to correct Lear and by correcting, help him avoid disaster. He says an honorable person must speak plainly when the king is crazy. He says power should not bow to flattery.

He’s giving Lear a lecture on classic morals and good sense. Pericles and Marcus Aurelius probably would have agreed, although they lived in the distant past, when people were supposedly backward. Kanye West would disagree; he wouldn’t even understand the words. And the state gave him a free education.

Lear is a fool (oddly, his fool is not), and he can’t receive the advice. He uses his sword to threaten Kent, who says:

Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow
Upon thy foul disease. Revoke thy doom;
Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat,
I’ll tell thee thou dost evil.

That’s genius. It sums up foolishness in a nutshell. “Kill the physician and pay the disease.” That’s exactly what stupid people do. They kill prophets. They shoot messengers. They hate good parents who correct them.

Look what Lear says when Cordelia explains that she has to be truthful instead of flattering him:

Let it be so; thy truth, then, be thy dower

Here is a fool speaking wisdom he doesn’t understand. He took away her inheritance, and he thinks that preferring the truth to money is imprudent and sure to lead to disaster. He has everything backward; in Shakespeare’s world, the penalty for doing evil isn’t poverty; the price is that you become an evil person. The reward for virtue is virtue, as the proverb says. The truth really is her dowery, but he doesn’t get it.

The play is packed with stuff like this. So are his other works. It’s sad, because modern Americans can’t receive it. We prefer pride, mockery, greed, and every type of sensual indulgence. Our heroes are the imbeciles in Hollywood and on MTV. You could never get a significant percentage of us to accept Shakespeare’s values. We swim gladly in a giant septic tank, swallowing as much as we can and thinking it’s champagne.

Shakespeare isn’t perfect; he’s not a prophet or apostle. He was a big proponent of fornication. If you look at his love poems and replace “will” with its real 1500s meaning, “genitalia,” this becomes clear. But he was way ahead of you and me. Maybe in his better moments he sincerely promoted values he himself could not live up to.

Wisdom is not accumulated through experience. At least, not enough to save us. It’s inherited. The people who lived before us built it up, and we can have it for nothing, if we will accept it. When we insist on proving everything by experience, we burden ourselves with the impossible task of recreating, in one lifetime, what others developed over millennia.

We don’t just eat candy and garbage; we eat infectious excrement, in big, deep gulps. It’s good to realize it’s excrement, but then you have to deal with the pain of being unable to convince other people.

I used to live with the sensation that I was under water, maybe a foot below the surface, always able to see the air above me, but never able to reach it. That’s gone; it left me quietly without announcing its departure. I believe it was caused by my immersion in poisonous worldly ideas.

In the Bible, water is words. Words are many things; they are ideas, urges, statements, denials, promises, and threats. The Sea of Galilee symbolized the world, which is inundated in the words of Satan and the people he controls. The water of this world is foolishness and poison.

When you only have the world to listen to, you’re under the surface of the sea of words. You are the tail, not the head. You are under the power of blind men and inferior loser spirits. When you start to hear from the Holy Spirit, and you spend time praying in tongues, the word of God flows through you.

The Bible says water flows from his throne, and the Holy Spirit’s flow within you is living (running) water. In the Bible, stagnant water is bad; it’s not clean, and it can’t be used for baptism.

I suppose the flow of living water is the reason why I no longer have the sensation of being submerged.

Jesus walked on water, not to impress people, but to show that he was above the backward thoughts of men and devils. He was dominant because he listened to God, not man. Noah was lifted by water that drowned the wicked. It protected Noah but killed his enemies.

Whether the water was death or life depended entirely on a person’s attitude toward it. Noah had the right attitude. His neighbors had the wrong attitude, and it made the water death to them.

Modern entertainment is a swamp of stagnant water. Modern culture is a poison.

It’s no wonder singers and actors do so much harm. Satan was a musician, and he’s also an actor. He plays the role of God every day.

It’s funny that in 2016, two thousand years after the crucifixion, there was no human being available to tell me this stuff. Surely the apostles knew it, but the people who followed them spat on their inheritance and refused to take it. Because they didn’t inherit good things, we couldn’t inherit anything good from them. So we stagger through life blinded, until the Holy Spirit comes to us and gives us what we should have been able to receive from our parents and neighbors.

If you’re too caught up in low-quality secular entertainment, take heart. There are alternatives. All you have to do is change channels and open books.

Dangerous Cookies

Tuesday, July 12th, 2016

I Hear Them Giggling at Me

I have a sad setback to report. My weight-maintenance cookies are not working out.

I had found that keeping Oreos on hand was helpful for weight control, because I could grab one or two whenever I felt like my blood sugar was getting low, and it made it easy to avoid eating bigger things. It also saved me the time and expense of running to the drugstore for a Snickers bar. It saved me the time it would have taken to fix another meal.

I decided I should make my own cookies, since they’re better and cheaper than Oreos.

I made a batch using my oatmeal raisin recipe. I usually use golden raisins, but my local store has apparently stopped stocking them, so I used the dark kind.

When the cookies came out of the oven, I ate a few, and, as I should have predicted, they were so good, it was hard to stop. I ate too much.

Later in the day, I grabbed one after it had cooled off. I learned something really surprising: dark raisins don’t taste that great when they’re hot, but they make for a fantastic cookie at room temperature. This goes against everything I know about cookies. Generally, the hotter they are, the better they taste.

I was actually disturbed by how good the cookie tasted. I can’t remember ever eating a cookie that good. And I don’t even like oatmeal cookies that much. Chocolate chip is my favorite.

The conclusion is obvious: I have to go back to Oreos. My cookies are just too good to stay away from.

It sounds crazy, but I do not understand why I get such good results in the kitchen. I am my own favorite cook; no one else comes close. I cook stuff, I try it, and I make groaning noises and have to lean on the counter to keep from falling.

I don’t have any interest in this gift. I don’t use it. I cook very ordinary food, I almost never make anything special, and I quit cooking for friends (much to their chagrin). These days I only cook a couple of times a week. I make a big pot of soup and a meat dish, and I eat it all week long. As far as I know, my pizza and cheesecake are the best in the universe, and I haven’t made either one in maybe a year. My steaks are out of this world, but when rib roast prices took a huge dip recently, I didn’t bother aging roasts and cutting them into steaks. I did buy some steaks, but I didn’t knock myself out aging them and cooking them properly.

I’ve told God that if he wants to take this gift away and help me do well at something else, I would be fine with it.

One nice thing about not cooking for friends is that it helps you find out why people associate with you. If you stop feeding them and they stick around, you know they’re not just there for free food. If you’re lonely, buy a pickup truck and learn to cook. You’ll never be alone again. Just make sure you keep the food flowing and you never refuse to help someone move.

Another thing I don’t understand: I don’t make everything well. I have never made chicken wings I would serve to a guest. I finally gave up trying to improve, and I settled for wings that were just okay. It’s like some recipes just come to me, and other dishes are hopeless causes.

What am I supposed to do with this cookie recipe? Nothing, I guess. I’d like to keep using it, because Oreos are expensive and mediocre, but I don’t know if I can handle this level of temptation.

I guess I’ll find out, because I still have a lot of cookies left.

By the way, someone asked for the recipe in a comment, and I posted it. I have some corrections. Use dark raisins, and use at least a cup, not half a cup. And don’t eat the cookies until they cool down. You might want to double the salt.

This week’s huge meat dish is meatloaf. I had never made it before. I found the “Award-Winning Quaker Oats Recipe” at Epicurious, and I tried it. Maybe I did something wrong, but it’s not very good. The “sauce” is ketchup with a ton of brown sugar, Worcestershire sauce, and vinegar in it. The loaf is dry, even though I used cheap, juicy hamburger. It needs more salt, too. Like everything.

I know I can improve it. I could add beef broth to the oats before mixing them in. I could mix onion soup mix into the meat instead of using minced onions. I could fix that strange sauce. I could add pork.

Mmm. Pork.

I could be really bad and mix butter into the meat. That would be sick.

I thought I could trust Epicurious, but I was wrong. I shouldn’t be surprised. The recipe got a top rating, but most people can’t tell good food from dog chow.

I still have like three pounds of that meatloaf left. Hope I make a good dent in it today.

Wasting Time

Monday, July 11th, 2016

Mine and Yours

I have something to do in 45 minutes, so I can’t really sit down and dig into my new responsibilities. So here I am.

I have been reading Thucydides. I thought I was going to start sooner, but I looked at the Columbia University Lit. Hum. syllabus and discovered I was supposed to read Euripides (The Bacchae) first.

I think I should have taken the midterm last week. I would have been ready for it, which is more than I can say about my last time through this stuff.

I don’t believe in stealing copyrighted stuff, so I always look for cheap paper copies of whatever I read, even if I read it first on Scrib’d or whatever. I read The Odyssey on Scrib’d, and I also ordered a real copy. It’s still in the plastic.

I ordered a copy of Euripides V from Amazon, and then I read an earlier version at the Open Library, which is a site that “lends” ebooks. It has some connection to the Internet Archive, but the Archive has its own borrowing site. You figure it out. I am too lazy to look. I have accounts at both sites. I hope they’re taking care of authors’ rights, but anyway, I do use them. I took a look at a couple of drink recipes from Trader Vic’s without buying paper copies of the book. I hope that’s morally acceptable.

“Bacchae” rhymes with “wacky,” and maybe that’s fitting. It means “bacchants.” “Bacchant” (also “bacchante”) is pronounced “buh-Can’t.” It means a lady who worships Bacchus, the Bieber-like Greek God of drunkenness and–I don’t know–being effeminate maybe.

Here is the idea. Bacchus comes down to–wow, I’ve forgotten already–is it Thebes? Yes. The Thebes in Greece. He claims he’s Zeus’s son. His family says he’s a random illegitimate sissy. His cousin, Pentheus, is given the throne of Thebes, and Bacchus is rejected, although he does go on to a successful run, playing millionaire Thurston Howell on Sixties TV.

People who worship Bacchus go crazy. They get really drunk and run around the woods, dancing and fornicating. Women are the main participants, and during their craziness, they provide sex for any man who asks. This is not considered sleazy or sinful; it’s considered pious. Go figure.

It’s a remarkable thing to read, because it’s like a perverse reflection of being led by the Holy Spirit.

When you’re led by the Holy Spirit, you’re out of sync with the rest of the world. Like the bacchants, you seem irrational to other people, but you’re under the influence of a spirit who knows what he’s doing. You will do things that seem ill-advised from people who don’t hear from him.

The bacchants were also out of step with other people. Unlike Spirit-led Christians, they lost their free will and good sense. They did strange things. The mother of Pentheus got together with a group of bacchants and tore him to pieces, removing his head and so on. She didn’t know he was her son. She wanted to find Pentheus and tell him how she had helped kill the unbeliever.

Bacchus was the son of the highest Greek God, by a mortal woman. Jesus was the son of the real high God, by a mortal woman. Bacchus was rejected. Jesus was rejected. Bacchus sent a spirit to control people who followed him, and they did strange things. Jesus sent a spirit to help people rise above Satan and the world, and under that spirit’s influence, we do things other people don’t understand.

Bacchus gave humanity wine, and the Greeks thought that was a great gift, because it got people drunk. Jesus gave people his blood, which was represented by wine. When the Holy Spirit fell on the Apostles, people thought they were drunk.

I have to wonder how much of this is coincidence. In the time of Euripides, Satan didn’t know about the crucifixion or the baptism with the Holy Spirit, but it seems like evil spirits pick up on things from time to time, getting little incomplete glimpses of the things God is up to.

Thucydides is interesting. His book is about the Peloponnesian Wars. The Peloponnese is the lower part of Greece, where Sparta is located. It’s actually a peninsula. Athens is on the mainland. The mainier mainland. Athens and Spart went at it, with other Greek city-states joining the fray.

The Athenians were led by a remarkable man named Pericles. He reminds me of Winston Churchill and George W. Bush. He was a solid wartime leader whose people turned on him once the consequences of their decision to follow him into battle became clear. People always want the omelette, and then they want the eggs back.

Pericles was a speaker, and he made some famous speeches before the Athenians. In the first, he urged them to go to war. He said something you would expect to come out of the mouth of an American Founding Father: “Make up your minds that happiness depends on being free, and freedom depends on being courageous.”

Well, I got called away before the 45 minutes were up. But I’m back now. I’m making diet cookies.

To get back to Pericles, he showed me something interesting about Sparta: the Spartans were crazy to put their kids through 18 years or whatever of cruel boot camp.

If you’ve seen 300, you know that the Spartans sent their male children off to suffer miserably until they were old enough to join the army. This was after killing off all the ones that looked imperfect; the Spartans were extremely pro-choice. They left weak-looking babies to die in the wilderness.

In the movie, the Spartans are incredibly macho and tough. They’re like the SAS of Greeks. No one can fight as well as they can. Three hundred of them hold the huge Persian army off for days.

In real life, the flabby, hard-drinking Athenian queens kicked the snot out of them. They defeated the Spartans, proving you don’t really need to throw your life away to be an effective soldier.

American conservatives got really sweaty and pumped after 300 came out. We put “Molon labe” all over our blogs (even though King Leonidas of Sparta didn’t say that in the movie). Maybe we should have been excited about the wedding planners, figure skaters, and airline stewards of Athens.

Want to hear something interesting about Pericles? He had the Athenians hide behind a wall during the war. He also wanted to fix it so you had to have two Athenian parents in order to be a citizen of Athens. Do you realize what this means? He wasn’t the Greek George Bush. He was the Greek Donald Trump.

Pericles, it seems, was brilliant, even though his plans didn’t always work. Thucydides was no moron, either. He understood how smart Pericles was, and he paid him this compliment: he said he led the people instead of being led by them. That’s true wisdom. Most of our politicans are followers, not leaders. Obama is the biggest sheep in the universe. Somehow a man who lived 2500 years ago knew how important it was for a leader to lead, and we don’t know it now. How can that be? How can you not know something you knew in 475 B.C.?

Leadership is a huge part of Christianity. You’re supposed to be the head, not the tail. The head doesn’t follow the tail. When your buddies are getting tattoos, using drugs, and doing yoga, you shouldn’t go along just so they’ll love you. You should set an example and do what’s right.

You’re wondering what diet cookies are.

In 2009, after a fast, I suddenly found that God had given me control over what I ate. I didn’t feel compelled to stuff myself. I lost weight. That blessing didn’t go away, but I damaged it. One night I decided to order all-you-can-eat ribs with a friend of mine, and since then, things haven’t been quite as good as they were in 2009. I guess I followed instead of leading.

Recently, God brought the self-control back. That’s great, but it comes with little challenges. One is that I tend to eat too little at breakfast. I can tell when I need more food, because I start to feel crabby, and I don’t concentrate well. Like Betty White in the Snickers commercial.

I bought a bag of Oreos the other day, and I found them very useful. When I needed food, I grabbed a couple of Oreos, and they fixed the problem. Without small, handy, calorie-filled items around, I would be likely to eat something that’s too big.

I ran out of Oreos, and I was going to get more, but then I remembered my own cookies. I make fantastic oatmeal raisin cookies. It’s not a big brag. All homemade cookies are phenomenal compared to bag cookies, as long as you don’t use vegetable oil or shortening.

Today I made a pile of oatmeal cookies, and I’ll keep them around so I don’t keel over at 3 p.m. every day. The big problem is that they may be too good. If they’re too good, it will be very hard to control my consumption, even with the help I have.

They really are good. I know they’re good, because I love them, and ordinarily I don’t like oatmeal cookies.

I guess I’m going to have to get back to work on accounting. Either that, or I’ll have no choice but to get into the differences between rolled and ground ball screws.

Hello Again, Mr. Chips

Saturday, July 9th, 2016

I Will Beat This Thing if it Kills Me

I have been trying to rehabilitate my wayward CNC lathe. I built it in 2014, and for some reason, I quit working on it. I don’t recall the final straw, but I know that I was frustrated with the motor setup, and I was disturbed to learn that the screws that move the carriage (one of which cost a ton of money) were not adequate for good machining.

I started working on it last week, and I learned a few things.

First off, the screws aren’t that bad. The screw on the x axis (toward and away from the operator) is accurate to within a thousandth or so, which is about as good as I will ever need it to be. The other screw (z, or left and right) can be made accurate to within a couple of thousandths, which will do for 98% of hobby projects. I would be better of with ball screws, which have no significant backlash, but I don’t need them at this stage. Better to put my effort into making the motors and programs work.

Second thing: ball screws are getting cheaper and easier to find. I should be able to replace the z screw for under a hundred bucks, and the x screw, if it needs to be replaced at all, will be less.

Third thing: you don’t need a compound rest on a CNC lathe. A compound rest, for those of you who haven’t stopped reading already, is a second slide on top of the main carriage slide. The main slide, or cross slide, moves the tool toward you and away from you. The compound sits on it, and it can be swiveled, so it can move the tool in all sorts of directions in the horizontal plane.

A compound is very useful in manual machining, but with CNC, it’s a problem, unless it’s connected to a computer. The computer needs to control all movement and know where everything is, and that doesn’t happen with a compound that isn’t wired up. You have to leave it in one position all the time, so the computer knows where it is. That means it takes up space for no reason, and because compound rests are inherently wobbly, it adds error.

I took mine off and replaced it with a nice aluminum block. I was really happy with the block. It’s probably the first thing I’ve ever machined successfully, in one try, with no errors.

07 03 16 CNC mini lathe with new cross slide mount

Now if I can just get the lathe to work.

The little flat part that projects in front of the tool post is probably not necessary, but I left it there in case I found a need to mount additional stuff. You never know.

Fourth thing: if you use a KFlop controller, like mine, you will not be able to do threading without two spindle inputs. Mach3, the program just about everyone uses, will let you observe your spindle’s movements with a single sensor that, obviously, sends a signal once every rotation. The KFlop isn’t having that, so I have to rig up a two-sensor thing.

The mini-lathe came with variable speed and a tachometer, so it has a spindle sensor already. There is a disk around the spindle at one end, and there is a hole in the disk. The disk runs through a caliper-looking thing which contains an optical sensor. Every time the hole goes through, the sensor sends a signal to the tachometer, and the lathe tells me how fast it’s going.

The CNC plans I bought say to buy a new sensor and install it on the spindle. The sensor is inductive. That must mean it has a coil in it. Anyway, you mount a small flat piece of metal on the spindle, and every time it passes the new sensor, it makes current run through the sensor, telling the controller what the spindle is doing. When I realized the lathe already had a sensor, I decided to try to hack into it and connect it to the KFlop. That’s when I found out it won’t work. Now I have to put a second disk on the spindle with two cheap optical sensors at 90 degrees to each other.

I still can’t get the software to work right. That’s largely because I made a lathe and not a mill. You have to be stupid to make a lathe, because no one does it. Because there are so few hobby CNC lathes, there are very few people who can help you with problems. Also, the people who make the KFlop do not provide computer code for two-axis machines, so you may have to learn to alter C programs to work in two dimensions.


Nonetheless, things are moving right along.

I have one problem which is strictly physical, i.e., not in software. I crashed the lathe a long time ago, and now it tends to sputter. I changed the brushes on the motor, and it didn’t help. The old brushes were fine. I am now wondering if I damaged the contacts on the switch that changes the lathe from forward to reverse motion. Anyway, it’s one more thing to fix.

I bought a long piece of Delrin rod from Zoro Tools. I figured it would be more forgiving than aluminum when the lathe crashed. We’ll see. And Delrin is very useful stuff.

In other news, I am learning a lot about dementia. This week I realized that dementia is like dissection. It shows you what’s under people’s skin. It tells you what’s inside them.

My dad keeps having problems with his prescriptions, which I dole out for him, putting everything in a pill organizer. His doctor is supposed to keep them flowing to him by mail, by keeping his refills up to date. The supplier is supposed to send new pills automatically. Over and over, they screw up. I call the supplier, and they say the doctor didn’t update the prescription. I call the doctor, and they tell me to talk to the supplier. No one ever says the obvious thing, which is, “We are incompetent. Sorry. We’ll fix it.”

He ran out of one of his medications, and there was turmoil for about half an hour.

He can’t keep the names of the companies that supply his drugs straight. He can’t remember who sends the prescriptions. He became very angry and agitated, and he kept asking me the same things over and over. I was very calm about it; this is a problem that literally takes 30 seconds to fix. You make a note to call the doctor and the prescription people, and you go on with life. He kept telling me he couldn’t have this chaos in his life, and he was clearly upset that I wasn’t upset.

I had a sudden realization: he enjoys being angry and upset. It brings him pleasure. He doesn’t like to see it end. In the instant I saw that, a lot of things from my childhood started to make sense.

Most people don’t like being upset. When they get upset, they look for solutions to put an end to it. My dad never did that. When he got angry, he looked for ways to prolong it and spread it to other people. He used to get mad at people he couldn’t rattle. He thought there was something wrong with them. He had an employee he criticized for being unflappable; he found the man extremely frustrating, just because he didn’t burst into tears or share in the hysteria. I didn’t understand that. Now I do.

My house was always full of stress and yelling. When we would ask him to calm down, he always said, “Don’t tell me to calm down!” Now I see why he did that. He was enjoying himself.

You couldn’t tell him you were sorry and have an end to the problem. Even if you fixed the problem on the spot, he kept going. He didn’t stop until he got tired, and that could take hours. Sometimes he would run down and stop, and then it would start up again later. Sometimes he resumed days afterward.

I can’t believe I never saw this before.

It shows how harmful bad habits are to older people. When you’re 50 and you still have it together, you can change. When you become demented, forget it. People can’t help you with good advice, because you can’t receive it. All they can do is try to limit your suffering. And theirs. By spending less time with you.

Whatever you’re hiding from your kids today will eventually be so obvious it might as well be on a billboard.

Awareness of the problems my parents and grandparents have or had is not useless. It can’t help them, but it can help me. These things are caused or exacerbated by spirits, and those spirits leave the dead and prey on their descendants. As is so often the case, I am presented with a situation in which I can be blessed through others, yet I can’t bless them in return.

My dad’s potential to change and enjoy life is limited, and my sister is a lost cause. I don’t even know if she’s alive. The strange thing is that I’m not agitated about it. Many Christians have the idea that you’re never supposed to stop weeping and worrying over people; that’s a huge lie. We are supposed to be blessed, and you can’t be blessed if your life consists of perpetual handwringing over people who choose, habitually and over a course of decades, to harm themselves.

The Holy Spirit killed Ananias and Sapphira; people forget that. Peter spoke curses to them, and they died on the spot. He didn’t weep. He didn’t beg them to change. I’m sure he wasn’t happy about what happened to them, but the Holy Spirit tells us which battles to fight and which to drop, and he apparently chose not to have Peter wear himself out on Ananias and Sapphira.

We don’t know what people did for them in the time leading up to their deaths. They may have fasted and prayed for them every day for months.

I pray for my dad every day. I do what I can in the supernatural, and I make his life easy. That’s plenty of effort; I’m doing what I’m supposed to. Results can’t be guaranteed; I am not responsible for them. I am content.

I have more peace now that I understand what’s going on. That’s good. It’s bad when other people can’t be blessed, but I’ll take my blessings just the same.


Friday, July 8th, 2016

Evil Rules America

Last night some imbeciles shot up Dallas, killing a number of policemen. One of the murderers told police he wanted to kill white people. Lost individuals are on social media, applauding the racist losers who committed the crimes.

None of it is surprising. For most of a century, liberals have been teaching minorities, women, and gays that every cruel, vicious thing they do to the rest of us is justified. Our president takes that attitude, and during his reign, race relations have reached a new low. White people, men, Christians, and heterosexuals are constantly corrected and insulted, so we have tried to clean up our acts. The people who proudly call themselves victims have been coddled and pampered, and they have been taught to blame others for their problems, so they have deteriorated morally.

I see people on the news asking what we can do to fix it. It’s sad, because they’re living in a fantasy world. We can’t fix it. We won’t. It will get worse.

We abandoned God years ago. American serves Satan, and we do so with increasing openness. God doesn’t take care of us the way he used to, because we are his enemies. Order and hate will continue to decrease until the end of this age.

Our ghettos are full of people who can’t receive truth. They can’t be helped any more. They will believe any lie you tell them, but the truth infuriates them. A black friend told me she was against Republicans because we took prayer out of school. Another black friend told me a mutual acquaintance was against Republicans because we fought for gay marriage. The blindness is a marvel. If you can live in America, surrounded by 24-hour news outlets, carrying a smartphone in your pocket, and still believe Republicans fought for gay marriage, then you are immune to learning.

Black people abandoned God, so they became blinded. White people abandoned God, so we lost our protection and help. Every segment of society is cursed in various ways, and irrational hate and violence are two of the results.

The infantile individuals who shot up Dallas are not intelligent enough to understand what they’ve done. They dealt a devastating blow to black people in America.

The only way to do well in this world is to submit to God, learn, and improve. You have to take accountability. The second you start blaming others for your problems, you lose. Instead of growing stronger, you grow weaker. The Dallas murderers will inspire other black people to mistreat the police and people of other races, and the net result will be more poverty, more isolation, and more black-on-black violence.

Black people make up something like 12% of the population, and they don’t have much of the wealth. They don’t have many guns. They don’t have much property. They are not powerful people. Now they are being encouraged to fight against the strong, wealthy, government-backed, heavily armed, job-providing 88%. That’s not going to work. You can’t fight a civil war with 12% of the population.

As things get worse, black people will suffer. They will riot and destroy their own areas. They will destroy their businesses and careers. They will drive other people, and their money, out. They will be hit with business-killing curfews. Many will be crippled by felony charges that make them unemployable. People will be less willing to befriend them and help them assimilate.

A few non-blacks will suffer, but let’s face it; my neighborhood will be just fine, and so will nearly all non-black neighborhoods. We have weapons. The police are behind us. The National Guard is behind us, even under Obama. Deranged rioters and murder gangs don’t get on the bus and go to other neighborhoods. They walk outside, right where they live, and raise hell. They won’t be a problem here.

I have a black friend I pray with every week. He used to be on board with the victimhood movement. He thought George Zimmerman was a murderer. That’s over now. He is very frustrated with Black Lives Matter. He says he feels like he can’t talk to his black friends, because he disagrees with their mindset and they are incapable of listening. It must be a very unpleasant position to be in. He has seen the light, and he has knowledge that can help people he cares about, but if he tries to speak up, he’ll get nothing but abuse and accusations.

I’m not stupid. I know there are many, many black people in America who are celebrating today. The press will pretend it’s not happening, but social media is a fluoroscope that reveals all. Self-destructive attitudes are on full display right now. It won’t be acknowledged, accountability will be rejected, and things will get worse.

Talking heads will be on the air all week, trying to find a way to blame white people. When you blame people, you imply that they have power. White people are out of line with God, and to that extent, we are responsible for what’s happening, but come on. This mess is primarily the result of the actions of black people.

I can relate to my friend’s problem. I feel the same way about human beings, generally. We are full of blindness and unjustified anger, and we love it. When God tells me something good, it’s very hard to share it successfully with anyone. More and more, I am an outcast.

How could I succeed now if I tried to integrate with secular society? I’m very outspoken about homosexuality; that, alone, would suffice to get me blackballed in business. I call Bruce Jenner a man. I call Islam a cult. A person like me is unwelcome everywhere. I’m even unwelcome among tongue-talking Christians, because I tell them their leaders are lying vultures.

The world hates truth, and if you speak the truth, it hates you. The fact that you want to help just makes it worse. The world is evil, and help makes it angry. Satan is the god of this world, and if you try to graft yourself into it, he will see to it that you are rejected like a transplanted limb.

Jesus said the world would hate his disciples. He was not joking. There was a time when America was relatively safe for Christians; this country was unusual, in that God had a lot of power here. That day is gone, gone, gone. And it’s not coming back.

People are going to look for secular solutions to the BLM problem, and that will not please God. It will make things worse. He let us have this predicament as a lesson, to help us turn back to him. Instead, we will throw it back in his face and continue to offend him.

In all likelihood, we are about to see a terrible time for black Americans. It’s very sad. They pinned their hopes on a president and an ideology that make things worse.

If I lived near the edge of a black area, I would be looking for a realtor right now. Anger will increase, and I am a natural target.

I feel bad for black conservatives, but then when has that not been true? I feel bad for any black person who is against the violence. The bad behavior of the hateful makes the rest of us wary. The government can’t profile, but the rest of us will, even if we try not to, and many innocent people will be ostracized out of fear.

It’s disturbing to see how right I have been about the direction the world is taking. My information definitely came from God. I used to joke about wanting a walled compound in central Florida, but it’s actually a very good idea. Miami is full of Cubans who didn’t like blacks much to begin with, and it’s full of black people who are getting angrier by the minute. People who live in the country live with less tension.

The good news is that help is available. You can’t fix your “community.” You can’t even fix your relatives. But you can fix yourself. You can get power, peace, and correction from God. You can get his protection and help. It has gotten to the point where a real Christian is like a bubble boy; that’s sad, but the bubble is still a great gift. You can get close to God, submit, develop a prayer life, and find insulation from the crazies and killers. If you haven’t done it yet, you need to turn the PC off and start today.

I wish I had something nice to say about the world, but it would be a lie. Accept the situation as it is and receive the best help available. Denial will only make things worse.


I feel like adding a few things to what I wrote.

People will read this and call me a racist or say that I don’t care about police abuse of black people. It’s always easier to make a false accusation than to use your brain.

The cops have all sorts of problems. Everyone over the age of two knows that the job attracts a lot of sadistic, corrupt control freaks. I haven’t dealt with the police all that much, and even in my limited experience, I would say 20% of them were snotty and possibly dangerous. I had a black cop wake me up by banging on a car window with a nickel-plated .357 close to my head; that wasn’t just rude; it was a felony. And I know racism is a serious problem in police departments.

Some of the people the BLM crowd is upset about were murdered. Tamir Rice was murdered. So was the guy who was shot while running from the police on foot in South Carolina. I believe the Eric Garner case was manslaughter. It happens. It happens more often to white people, but in any case, it happens, and black people are probably more likely to be victims.

I think it’s swell to keep an eye on the cops, and I think any cop who interferes with a person shooting video of a police interaction should be put in prison for several years.

That doesn’t mean the BLM people aren’t crazy or counterproductive.

We are not going to be able to do much about the police, because policemen have always been dangerous. That has been true in every country, since the dawn of history. Cops are one of the main reason the Bill of Rights was written. The job attracts crazies and crooks. No matter how much we screen and observe, there will be more Tamir Rices. We should make reasonable efforts to change that, but realistically, we are not going to see results much better than what we have now. It’s actually surprising to me that we have as few problems as we do.

Changing yourself is another matter. You can do that. You can stop selling drugs. You can stop carrying illegal weapons. You can stop stealing, raping, and killing. You can refuse to join a gang. It’s not that hard. The difference BLM would make by teaching people to shape up dwarfs the difference they will make by blaming the police and white people.

Look at the people the cops have been killing. Almost all of them delivered themselves into the hands of the cops. Almost all were in the hands of the police because they had just committed crimes. Even the man who was shot in the back had committed a crime. If you really want to save lives, isolate yourself from the threat by behaving responsibly.

Also, BLM critics are 100% correct when they say BLM is hypocritical because it ignores the threat blacks pose to each other.

If you’re a black person conceived in the city of New York, you will probably be murdered…by your mother. You are more likely to be killed by your mother than born alive. If BLM really cares about black lives, why not attack the white-funded, white-dominated abortion industry, which deliberatedly targets black babies? The whole purpose of the abortion industry is to reduce the numbers of live black births.

I know people will say this is trite, but it’s trite because it’s true: it would also make sense to fight black crime. Right now in Liberty City, a few miles from here, a black man who is angry at another black man can shoot him in his front yard in front of witnesses and not worry about a conviction. People do not cooperate with the cops. People who talk are in danger of being killed, not just by the people they inform on, but by all sorts of people in their area who have no direct interest in the crimes in question.

If you’re a black man, you’re about as likely to be shot by a cop as you are to die in a bathtub accident. It’s not that common. But you stand a pretty good chance of being killed by your mom or another black civilian.

So to sum up, BLM is avoiding approaches that can help, and they are working very hard on an approach that will produce extremely limited positive results. In the process, they’re burning neighborhoods, looting stores, shooting cops, and teaching destructive values that lead people to self-destruct.

The things I’m saying are useful and helpful. I’m sorry they don’t taste like Froot Loops, but medicine usually doesn’t.

The Unthinkable has Happened

Thursday, July 7th, 2016

Accounting is my Passion

I said I eagerly awaited the day when I could honestly say I liked Quickbooks; it looks like that day is here.

I have had to take over most of my dad’s responsibilities, and I’m aware that the percentage will approach 100 asymptotically in the near future. Every weekday I put time in, entering old checks and payments in Quickbooks. I deal with people who fix his car and work on his house. I watch to see if he’s doing anything wrong, so I can step in.

Using accounting software is not exciting, but along with the other new responsibilities, it’s paying dividends. When I’m only responsible for myself, I don’t have a lot of motivation to do things well. Now that I’m responsible for another person, I cut my own excuses short and get things done, and the mindset extends to my own affairs.

I’m developing the habit of scheduling things and setting daily goals. This is more helpful than you would think. As I’ve said before, if you sit down to work on something and you have no specific goal, you don’t know when you’re finished. When you quit, it’s because you’re tired, not because you accomplished something. You think about the rest of the task for the remainder of the day instead of putting it out of your mind.

When you set goals, you know when it’s time to get up, and you can be at peace while you do other things.

This all comes from my prayer life, which goes better and better with time. I have started making a point of asking God to help me give 100% of myself and my wealth to him. That’s very important. We are generally taught to give him just enough of ourselves to make our lives run well, as if we’re tipping a waiter or paying the IRS. Prosperity preachers teach us to pay God to help us and then go away. The old covenant taught us to give him 10%. That stuff doesn’t work now. You have to trust him completely, and when you ask him to help you do that, you find that part of you is very reluctant.

It’s not natural to trust God completely. That makes sense, because we are selfish, we are used to doing what we want, and we are used to being cheated by just about everyone we deal with. I don’t trust people; do you? I don’t even trust the people I trust. There are people I’d trust with my house keys, but there is nobody I’d put on my bank accounts. I wouldn’t trust anyone to tell doctors whether they could start passing out my organs. My trust has limits.

It’s hard to think of a single person who hasn’t let me down, and I have let others down. A lot of people have gone beyond being untrustworthy; they have worked to destroy me, for no good reason. They have stolen from me. They have slandered me behind my back. I’ve been lied about to judges.

God is the only person who is completely trustworthy. It’s no wonder I come to him with the habit of limiting what I give to people. I’ve never known any human being I could rely on, because such people do not exist.

So anyway, asking for help with complete trust and submission has been helpful. And it makes sense that it would help. Why should God help people who aren’t his employees? You don’t see Burger King giving uniforms to the kids who work at McDonald’s.

Peace and success keep increasing in my life. It’s absolutely great.

This morning I thought about the churches I used to go to. I was so glad I quit going. I felt relieved, knowing that disgusting weight was not on my back.

I know there are people at those churches who think I’m lost. They assume things are going badly for me now that I’ve “touched God’s anointed” and criticized “the prophets.” They are waiting to hear a bad report, and to see me crawl back to church full of regret. Fat chance!

I know they mean well (some of them), but they couldn’t be more wrong.

The Wilkerson family, at Trinity Church, is a horror to deal with. The place is a cult. They treat people like slaves. They put the dumbest, trashiest, most worthless teachers imaginable in front of people (most of whom are poor), and these people and the staff preachers persuade the crowd to go into debt to give the Wilkersons ridiculous offerings. The Wilkersons run people down to their friends. They interfere with relationships. They scheme behind people’s backs. Attending that church was like sharecropping. No, it was like being in a Nazi death camp. You work until you’re used up, and then someone replaces you.

Rich Wilkerson, Sr., asked for an offering at a funeral! No lie.

The last church I attended wasn’t great, either. The pastors had crazy, inflated opinions of themselves. They thought they were always right. The head pastor actually scolded the volunteers because they didn’t honor him correctly on his birthday! We were supposed to honor his adolescent son, who is nothing but an angry brat. He posted a photo of Jesus on Instagram, clutching a gigantic marijuana leaf. Under it, he announced that he was an atheist. He was nasty to older people. He was uneducated, by choice. But we were supposed to honor him!

They broke up relationships. They were incapable of listening. They were childish. They made a confused man their “house prophet.” They expected people to listen to the crazy things he said, and to rely on them when they steered their lives. The church never grew when I was there, and it’s still in a little rented room. Every time God started to move, pride stopped him in his tracks.

I don’t have to fool with that mess any more. I’m free. I talk to God personally all the time. I don’t need to talk to his crazy, manipulative personal assistants.

I have much more control over my mind, heart, and flesh than I used to. I have more success. The thistle hedges God put around me when I was in rebellion are coming down. I keep getting correction and supernatural improvement. It’s wonderful. If I had listened to the slave drivers and tiny pharaohs, I would still be walking in circles treading out their grain.

It’s great. I love it. You can have it, too.

I’m also glad I’m off Facebook, Twitter, and the other social media sites. I don’t have to turn on the PC and groan, knowing I’m about to see backward garbage posted by friends who claim to love God. I don’t have to see half-naked pictures, Only Black Lives Matter propaganda, prosperity gospel filth, or posts about how hard Christianity is and how we have to save ourselves through effort.

I miss people, but I would rather have what I have and be without them than have what they have and be with them.

In my prayers, I keep telling God I’m going to keep going forward and doing well even if every other person on earth dies in defeat and goes to hell.

That sounds bad, I suppose, but it doesn’t mean I don’t care about other people. It means I will not let my desire to please them or be accepted drive me to accept the chump change they’re living for. The devil pays them off in trinkets, so they’re happy to remain as they are. Not me (not any more). I want to keep growing. I don’t want to peak in this life.

I hope everyone I know grows and improves, but if they don’t, I will keep walking, and I will never look back. Never. It’s unthinkable.

Sometimes I sit and focus and try to feel the way I felt six months or a year ago. I remember the tension and worry. I remember the sensation of defeat. Things were pretty good back then; they were way better than they were in 2007, when I first decided to go back to church. But today I feel ten times as good. As pleasant as things were in 2015, I could never allow myself to sink back to that level.

I realize the kingdom of heaven isn’t about feeling good. God is not my life coach or massage therapist, with a purpose of making things swell for me. But when you align yourself with God, you can’t help being blessed. It can’t be avoided.

The things I’ve been talking about on this blog work. They are correct. It’s not my imagination. It’s revelation. It never stops working. It never stops getting better. I make little errors here and there, but fundamentally, it’s right. I don’t regret buying into a single part of it.

After all this, I almost look forward to attacking Quickbooks today. And if God can turn Quickbooks into a blessing, what can’t he bless?

Love Letter to Myself

Sunday, July 3rd, 2016

I am my Own Old Flame

Yesterday, through an odd twist of events, I ended up reading a letter I wrote to my mother when I was in college. When I was SUPPOSED to be in college. My family was a disaster, and I was hanging outside the fabric of society like a bit of loose yarn on a sweater.

The letter really opened my eyes.

Many writers want to throw up when they read things they’ve written in the past. Not me. I’m almost always pleasantly surprised. Even when I read things I said, which I no longer agree with, I generally feel good about the quality of the writing and thought. The old letter was an exception to the rule. It reminded me of something I had forgotten. It reminded me of what I used to be.

One of the greatest things God has shown me is that correction is the best thing there is, apart from salvation.

When you say something negative about a person, it falls into one of two categories: condemnation or correction, i.e. constructive criticism.

Condemnation is for people who will not improve. It’s what the King James Bible calls “judgment.” If you criticize someone, knowing it won’t help him, it’s condemnation. It may be necessary to do this from time to time, usually inwardly, in order to avoid continued involvement with people who can’t be blessed. You shouldn’t do it without a good purpose. You shouldn’t do it for the pleasure of hurting people or getting revenge.

Correction is for people who can change. To correct is to open a door to freedom and victory.

I think about these things every day, and I work to get correction in my daily prayers. One consequence of this is that I am now fairly ruthless with myself. I try to find ways to take responsibility for problems other people and spirits helped cause, as though I were the only one who did wrong. To take responsibility for a thing is to take power over it.

I like to say that all the problems you have after you turn 18 are your own fault. I say this because I used to blame other people, and it made things worse. I gave my parents much of the blame for the way my life turned out, and by refusing to take responsibility, I dug myself deeper into the hole.

Obviously, then, I am extremely reluctant to blame other people now. But when I looked at that letter, I remembered how my upbringing crippled me. Looking back on it, I understood that whatever I am now, it’s a wonder I’m not in an institution, or dead. My sister ended up in a homeless shelter. That could have been me.

I was raised in an atmosphere of abuse. In my case, the abuse was generally verbal, coupled with neglect. I was insulted and barked at all the time. I was made to understand that I was wrong about everything, and that if I spoke or asked questions, I was likely to be driven off with my heart pounding, looking–literally–for a place to hide until the storm passed. When others were abused, I would sit behind my bedroom door in the middle of the night, waiting for the sounds of abuse to stop.

When I was a teenager, I had no confidence whatsoever. I barely had any involvement with girls; I ruined my opportunities with my lack of certainty. It was hard for me to stand up for myself. When someone mistreated me, I suddenly felt the same way I had felt at home during outbreaks of abuse. Instead of trying to set things straight, I wanted to say or do whatever it took to make it stop. I had been conditioned to feel that any effort to defend myself would make things much worse. I had been taught that I could not do anything to help myself.

I had no goals, except to escape. I used to go for long drives and wish I had somewhere to go, so I would not have to come back. I only worked hard enough to avoid getting F’s. I never thought in terms of accomplishment. I thought in terms of avoiding suffering, and even temporary relief was worth pursuing, regardless of the cost.

I knew things were screwed up. I tried to fix it. I looked for secular heroes. I ran to all sorts of unlikely messiahs. One was Fritz Perls, the founder of gestalt therapy. I thought he was brilliant, but he was really just a dirty old man who hated his parents. His answer to life’s problems was to discard his parents and feed his giant ego and goatlike lust, without thinking about other the way he hurt other people.

I read books by people who believed self-esteem was the path to nirvana. It was very appealing. I had no self-esteem at all, unless negative self-esteem counts. I internalized the abuse I had received from others. When they weren’t around, internally, I insulted myself throughout the day, repeating the things they would have said. Believing in myself and praising myself gave me relief from that; it took away the pain, the way morphine takes away the pain of a broken bone. It was the wrong way to go. I didn’t know that.

I applied to a grand total of three colleges. Columbia accepted me. Yale sent my application back because it was late. Dartmouth waitlisted me. I went to Columbia. As a college student, I was totally ineffective. No one had taught me how to organize my life and get things done. All I wanted was to get drunk and make trouble. Animal House was my source of guidance. I tried to relive it.

I couldn’t deal with the challenges of college life. My freshman advisor quit during the first semester, and my English class moved to a new building. I didn’t do what was necessary to get a new advisor, and I missed class for six weeks because I didn’t want to deal with the administration. I hated talking to people in authority. They intimidated me, and I knew that if they asked me questions, I would have to tell them things that would get me in more trouble. Also, to be honest, the administration at Columbia was fairly useless. They didn’t do much to help people in trouble.

I fell under a lot of bad influences. Bad influences were pretty much the only kind Columbia had to offer. I thought I was going to be a writer, so I wrote a lot, and I took classes in writing and literature. Columbia was still wilting under the demonic spell of fools like Jack Kerouac and William S. Burroughs, like a high school girl in the back seat of a car with a third-string college quarterback. The atmosphere was godless, debauched, and pessimistic. I drank it in.

I read Henry Miller. I thought he was wonderful. He was a wicked old crank and probably a sociopath, but he seemed to be getting over on the system.

More and more, self-esteem and self-determination seemed to be the answers. I made a conscious, proactive, overt effort to become proud, to the point where I gave myself a nickname that started with “Arrogant.” I wanted to be so self-assured, no one could shake me. I was building my own little internal Tower of Babel.

I saw these things yesterday in the letter I wrote. I saw the effects they had on me. I was dramatic and emotional, like one of the English Romantic poets. I kept praising my own talent. I was trying to make myself believe I could do something. My parents had no faith in me at all. They didn’t think I could accomplish anything. My answer was to go way overboard, trying to supply what I couldn’t get from them.

I was nearly insane. My handwriting looked like the scrawl of a potential serial killer. I was clinging to anything that would keep me from sliding into complete despair. It made me almost deranged. Almost delusional. I needed help, and I couldn’t find it anywhere. My desire for help and my suffering didn’t matter. No one gave me what I needed, and when I tried to give it to myself, I became more warped.

I had forgotten about this. It’s hard to relate to. My mind is completely different now. I have more peace. I’m not afraid of people. I don’t go to bed at night and hold onto myself and shift in bed, wondering what will become of me. God has worked a tremendous amount of healing and restoration in me, so it’s a shock to remember how I used to feel.

Now I’m thinking about this, trying to draw the right conclusions. I have to take responsibility for what I am; I can’t pin it on others. At the same time, I look back and realize I didn’t stand a chance. I couldn’t turn myself into a good student or a competent person. I was the only person I had to rely on, and I was running on fumes. I had almost nothing to give myself.

You can’t breastfeed yourself; you run into the same principles that govern thermodynamics. You have to have input from outside.

I’m still responsible for what happened. I chose not to pray when I was young. I looked in the wrong direction. There is no getting around that. I didn’t want to serve God. Maybe I would have wanted to serve him, had I not been immersed in slander about him. Those who slandered him to me are accountable, but I am still responsible. I knew he was God.

Looking at that letter makes me think about the way I view people who don’t believe in God. They are as lost and wrong as I was. Their blindness and deafness are extremely profound. What hope is there for any of them unless God does them a giant favor, steps in, and gives them supernatural faith and remorse? None, I suppose.

My misery was a blessing. Had I been successful, I would have thought everything was fine, and I would still be on rails, sliding toward damnation. A lot of famous, greatly admired people have awakened suddenly in hell, wondering where their limos and personal assistants went.

I have to be aware of the wrong others have done to me, and I have to acknowledge it. The truth is important, regardless of its nature. You’re not supposed to forget the bad things people have done or pretend they didn’t happen. You’re not supposed to lie about them to make them look better. At the same time, I can’t hold onto anger or blame others for my problems. If I do that, they defeat me twice.

If you want your kids to do well, there are two important things you have to do. You have to teach them to know the Holy Spirit, and you have to support them emotionally. These things are more important than food, education, clothing, and shelter, because meeting internal needs results in the meeting of external needs. There are many kids on this planet whose material needs are met, who would be better off if their parents died. That sounds terrible, but it’s unquestionably true. Many parents wreck their children, to the extent that almost any adopted parents would be better.

I still take responsibility for what I did with my lfe, but I don’t feel as bad about it as I did last week. I see now that I’m very blessed to be doing as well as I am. My sister didn’t get what I got, and my mother died young after a miserable life. My dad doesn’t know God. I’m doing better than all of them.

Don’t fool with prosperity preachers, positive-thinking preachers, or the old-line clergymen who teach you garbage about pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps. You need the charity of God, provided through the Holy Spirit. You need handouts, not paychecks or bribes. Improvement of the self is job one, after receiving salvation. If you know that, you will avoid a lot of blind alleys. You will eventually come out on top.