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Archive for the ‘Blog Rounds’ Category

The Earth Still Turns Without Disco

Monday, April 25th, 2016

Don’t Party Like it’s 1979

My Internet friend Heather noticed I was gone from Facebook and came by to comment, saying this:

Be glad you stepped away from Facebook, the deification of Prince has been just insane.
You would not believe the ugly things that have been said to me because I pointed out that the man was a Jehovah Witness, thus destroying their fantasy that Prince did not immediately ascend to the throne at the right hand of God.

I have seen very little Prince worship on the Internet, but that’s because I’ve avoided it. It must be a nauseating, discouraging spectacle. I can’t even guess what Facebook looks like this week. In some circles, it must be bigger than the death of FDR.

I thought his music was boring. I can’t understand why anyone ever sat through an entire song. But that may be because I simply didn’t have the particular supernatural influence that convinces people he’s wonderful.

If you’re not protected by the Holy Spirit, all the other spirits can make you believe or perceive nearly whatever they want. They shape our desires and reactions all day. Surely they can convince you Prince was better than Frank Sinatra or Billie Holiday.

People are still talking about his “clean” lifestyle. The man was treated for a drug overdose and then died several days later in a manner entirely consistent with a second overdose. Okay, sure, his cousin says he was clean. What would your cousins say about you a day after you died? That you were a jerk?

The world is hopelessly screwed up. If you want proof, just consider this: Satan is the god of this world. What more do I have to say? When the lowest, most foolish creature in the universe is a world’s god, things are pretty bad.

Our perceptions are very distorted. We are raised in a soup of spirits that lie to us constantly, and we are surrounded by their human stooges, who repeat the lies around the clock. One of the benefits of being Spirit-led is that the deception starts to fall away from you. When that happens, the world and its values start to look insane and depressing.

My desires keep changing. I want that to continue. I don’t want to desire poison and death any more.

A long time ago, I had a comic strip in development with an editor. I knew I was good at what I did; I had no self-deprecating illusions about it. I expected to succeed. As motivation, I cut photos of fishing yachts out of magazines and taped them in places where I could see them. I figured I would get one if I got rich.

Today, you could not pay me to deal with a yacht. A nice one burns around 150 gallons of diesel per hour, or maybe $450. It takes three people to run one well, and it takes four to fish one. Every year, it has to go to the yard, and you will pay thousands just for basic maintenance. Dockage is expensive. Where I live, the sea is too rough for fishing maybe 40% of the time. Also, a yacht attracts shallow people who think about nothing but drunkenness, money, and sex.

I used to watch Top Gear all the time. I enjoyed watching them try out million-dollar Ferraris and Bugattis. Would I want to own such a vehicle? Never. I’m not even interested in driving one. I’m content to watch other people.

You can only get two people into a supercar. Every time you park it, you provide a target for envious vandals. Everything associated with it is ruinously expensive. You can’t even drive it legally; not if you want to use a significant portion of its capabilities.

I know people who have gotten rich. They probably think they have the world by the tail. It’s really the other way around. They have to deal with employees, lawyers, economic fluctuations, regulators…forget that. They also have to deal with tremendous temptation. Businesses run into potentially fatal challenges all the time, and very often, there is an unethical or illegal way out. I don’t want to face that.

I’ve had designs on really atrocious women. One was an atheist. Others were shallow. None really cared about God. I was looking for stupid things like chemistry. Attraction and psychological compatibility are important, but if both partners aren’t Spirit-led, they will grow apart, and one will draw the other away from God. Once you’re away from God, you’re the tail, not the head. You suffer defeat after defeat. You’re exposed. I don’t need that in my life.

My musical tastes have changed. I have a big collection of albums, and I got an Ipod so I could play them in my truck. I rarely use the stereo now. I want to talk to God while I drive, and the stereo distracts me. At home, I listen to secular music from time to time, but I can’t take it for long periods. The only thing I can put up with for hours at a time is praise music. Or silence.

I don’t see the world as my oyster. I see it as a cesspool I have to wade in for a while. It’s the roof of hell. The only way to do well down here is to focus on what’s above. The presence of God is like a pair of waders.

I seriously believe people who like Prince’s disco music and his image are supernaturally deluded. He played guitar extremely well, and he did arrangements, but that makes him a highly skilled technician, not a real artist.

If you want to hear a good keyboard player, listen to Oscar Peterson. If you want to hear a truly superb guitarist, listen to Stevie Ray Vaughan. If you want to hear a top-notch singer, listen to Etta James. If you want to hear good songs, listen to Cole Porter, Hoagie Carmichael, or Hank Williams. Then go back and listen to Prince and see if you still think he’s superhuman.

The feeling I get when I think about going back to the low tastes of this world is like the feeling a college student has when he wakes up at two p.m. with a hangover, in a bed with dirty sheets, surrounded by the smell of spilled bong water. I don’t want it any more; I get the feeling parolees have when they think about going back to prison. You have to put away childish things.

This world is not a good place or a place where you can build a permanent home. It’s the second-lowest level of creation. It’s so low God doesn’t even keep a throne here. It’s the Section 8 trailer park of the universe. Enoch tells us heaven has seven levels, and we’re under the lowest one. That’s not a good place to site a future.

Prince was a little picture of Satan. He led the musical worship of himself. He focused attention on himself, not God. He was effeminate and spoiled. He devoted his life to bringing himself glory. He corrupted other people as hard as he could. He turned other musicians into little replicas of himself. If that appeals to you, fantastic, but there is nothing about it I like.

It’s so strange that our culture was simultaneously infected by two entertainers named Prince and Madonna, who attacked Christianity while displaying Christian symbols. And those are their real first names, which makes it even weirder.

I’m glad I’m off Facebook. I’m glad I have fewer hard little heads to contend with. It seems like America just turned a downward corner, like a ship upending itself before it sinks. I don’t want to be close enough to get pulled down by the suction.

Another Steve for Your Amusement

Wednesday, August 6th, 2008

Go Look

A reader has gone and started a blog. You don’t know what you’re asking for, dude! But welcome to the fraternity.

For your reading pleasure…Through a Glass, Darkly.

Stuff Other People are Up To

Monday, July 28th, 2008

I Got up to “F”

Between the Sabbath and household repairs, most of the weekend got eaten up, but right now I am enjoying a lull in activity, so I think I’ll see what other bloggers are up to.

Agent Bedhead thinks it’s hypocritical for celebs to devote their lives to seeking attention and then complain when they get it. I have to agree. Go read the whole thing. Heh. Indeed. Tom Maguire. Althouse.

Speaking of Althouse, she is a little sick of the Obama man-crush phenomenon. And it looks like someone needs to hide her fish eye lens for a week. Don’t be startled (or encouraged) by the naked blonde currently on Ann’s site. It’s not who you hope it is.

I thought I was disgusting for keeping canned goods until the bottoms rusted out and the crap oozed onto the pantry shelves. But Elisson has stolen my crown.

Cap’n Bob has an interesting revelation. Apparently, ancient Americans knew what circles were.

You’ve all heard of “eliminating the middleman.” Well, Dan from Madison has a weird story about a company that eliminated its own distributor and left the middleman with no competition. Sweet. It’s a story of stupidity and bad business practices, with a happy ending.

Via Mike at Cold Fury, Jeff Goldstein has ceased blogging. Again. Let’s hope it’s so he can do something more rewarding. He said something about a novel involving a taco shell.

CONCEALED CAMPUS! CONCEALED CAMPUS! CONCEALED CAMPUS! I just felt like sending you there.

Double Tapper is keeping track of Obama’s proven lies. And if you help, you apparently get a cool T-shirt.

Finally, Fausta is going to be doing a Nowlive show soon. When it happens, you will find it here.

Stuff Other People Wrote

Monday, April 7th, 2008

Call me Drudgebart

Sondra K. says I have been neglecting her, so here is a link to a fine post she put up. I hope it will change your life the way it did mine.

Elisson says he’s dieting! Less red meat and MORE FISH!

All around me, feet of clay.

Oh no! Amanda is dieting too! Has the world gone crazy?

I may be partly responsible for their situations.

Joe Tobacco calls Joe Gandelsman out, challenging his…moderate…ness. I wouldn’t be too angry with Gandelsman. A liberal who calls himself moderate is infinitely preferable to the Moveon nuts who have a policy of calling talk shows, claiming to be “lifelong Republicans,” and then announcing that the medical marijuana industry should be nationalized and the entire Bush family should be sent to a taxidermist.

Cap’n Bob has a personal Charlton Heston anecdote. I think you’ll enjoy it.

Carl From Chicago at Chicagboyz says England is running out of electricity. Seems logical. They ran out of common sense decades ago, so it’s natural that other precious assets are now drying up. Carl says we’re headed the same way. My response: use all the power you can, while it’s still available! This is like coming up on a yellow light. You have to HIT THE GAS.

Henry Gomez at Cuban-American Pundits is pulling the plug. From now on, content you might otherwise have seen at CAP will be found at Babalu. Funny, in Miami, CAP means “Cuban-American Princess.” Anyway, now you know where to find Henry.

Two seemingly incompatible bits of news from Double Tapper: 1. Israel’s gun laws require people who are physically unfit to give up their guns. So if you get old or sick, the government makes things worse by disarming you. 2. The rabbi and off-duty soldier (describes a huge number of Israelis) who killed the Merkaz Harav terrorist were given awards for their heroism. In Israel. Good thing they were both young and healthy, or else a lot more children would be dead.

That’s all I got for now.

Oh, wait. Here’s Christopher Walken, with his take on Chanukkah.

I got an accountant. Shlomo. A Jew. He tried to explain Hanukkah to me once. He’s like, “There were these lamps, and there was a limited supply of oil, but the oil burned for eight days, and it was a miracle, and then the Egyptians made us make bricks, and we had to cut off our foreskins…yada yada yada yada,” “Get to the POINT,” I kept telling him. “Okay, fine, your Christmas story is a little different from ours, but I know sooner or later we get to the part with the tree and the fat guy in the red suit. I mean, we have that much in common. You people aren’t SAVAGES, right? I know you were behind that crucifixion thing, but that was a simple beef over turf. You guys don’t live in huts and run around in jockstraps made from your enemies’ faces, right? So skip to the part where Saint Nick comes down the chimney and gives you a new bike, because I know that’s where we’re headed.”

I never got a straight answer out of that guy, but I cut him some slack, because I haven’t paid taxes since ‘73. Which reminds me, I need to send a ham to my previous accountant’s widow.