Archive for October, 2015

God Sets the Solitary in Families

Wednesday, October 28th, 2015

Creepy Pastors do the Opposite

Today I had another remarkable revelation concerning the last two churches I belonged to. They are ruining people’s relationships in a manner not unlike the damage done by the Nazis and by Americans who owned slaves.

I don’t know why I didn’t see this sooner. I suppose I didn’t care enough about being rejected to think about it.

After World War Two, many people found themselves isolated from family and friends. The Nazis tore relationships apart. It’s obvious that they murdered people, but there was more to it than that. They destroyed neighborhoods so people had to leave as refugees. They imprisoned people and moved them around. When the war was over, the Nazi infrastructure was gone, and there was no one capable of determining where people were.

Many people got back together shortly after the war. Others stayed apart for years. Some never found each other again. Slaveholders also tore families apart, and many were never restored.

I’ve known for a long time that Rich Wilkerson and the crew at Trinity Church discouraged people from talking to those who leave the church. A friend told me she had been sat down for “the conversation.” I know there were secret meetings about me. Big deal. I’m not the kind of person who suffers a lot when people drop me.

I knew about Trinity, but it was only recently that people started telling me that the pastors at New Dawn discourage people from communicating from people who leave.

If what I’m told is correct, they’re not always relatively subtle about it, as in the recent situation where a pastor preached about people like me without using my name. I am told they mentioned people by name and told others to shun them.

Here’s the interesting part: these things are generally done in secret, because many church pastors are gutless and sneaky. The problem with that is that the people who are shunned don’t know what’s going on. They don’t know the pastors are behind it. They may assume their friends don’t want to be around them.

They can’t take away true friends who are close to you, because you will communicate with those people in spite of the pastors. But they can cut you off from people who had the potential to become friends.

They can also cause people who leave to cut off the people who stay. When you leave, you may assume the pastors have turned everyone against you, so you may stop maintaining relationships.

So now I wonder: how many ruined relationships are these people responsible for?

This is really something. Many people are very dependent on their churches for help and comfort. I’m not one of those people, but not everyone is like me. What happens when such people lose their church circles?

It’s not a small problem. Even a little church can interfere with dozens or hundreds of friendships.

Thinking about this, I realize how important it is to expose this nonsense. It has to be exposed because its power comes from the fact that it was done in secret. I feel like someone should start a Facebook group or website for victims, so they can come in and announce their feelings toward people and possibly reclaim them.

I’m so mad right now. How can anyone do something this vile and cowardly and pretend to be a man or woman of God? It’s all done from a desire to get money and/or power. It’s dishonest, because it’s secretive. It’s cruel. And what benefit does it bring? Spoiled idiots with delusions of grandeur get to preserve their little empires and avoid honest work. People who would otherwise have very limited access to wealth and power–people who would be doing blue-collar jobs–get to ride around in German cars and go on expensive vacations. That’s about it.

I don’t know what to do, except for talking about it openly so that people’s eyes will be opened.

No Heart for the Louse

Wednesday, October 28th, 2015

Let the Bedbugs Starve

This morning during prayer I got more revelation about churches.

My prayer life keeps improving. These days I will often get up in the morning, go to the den, put on worship music (not Christian dance music), and pray while walking around. I am getting very aggressive, and I expect it to increase.

Today while I was praying, I thought about the way my life had changed since getting out from under a pastor.

When I was serving at churches, I had to deal with a lot of immature, ignorant people who were in authority. They did not pray much. They did not get revelation from God. They just repeated what other people told them. Nonetheless, for one reason or another, they were put in charge of ministries.

If you’re a pastor’s brother in law in a charismatic, money-centered church, you can pretty much count on running a ministry, unless he doesn’t like you. The wife will automatically be a pastor. Buddies and people who agree with everything the pastor says are likely to be promoted. Sometimes these people belong in their positions, and sometimes they don’t. The rest of us have to deal with them.

When the people in the Bible needed guidance, they went to men who were in contact with God. That’s what they did when they were doing things right, I mean. They went to Moses or Samuel or Jesus. They didn’t go to the high priest’s uncle or wife.

We are different now. We go to whichever crony or sycophant is available.

You can tell church leaders are useless when they have to brainstorm in order to come up with things to say or do. People who are anointed always have something on the stove. God doesn’t put a real servant in charge of something and then sit back to see the wonderful ideas the servant’s tiny, unaided brain can come up with.

When I was serving at Trinity Church, they used to come up with nutty projects. One was called “the 2020 Vision.” Rich Wilkerson said they were going to save a certain number of people by 2020.

I looked it up on the web, and it turned out about a billion churches had also had the 2020 vision, but it meant totally different things to them. And they had had the vision long before Wilkerson did, and you probably know how preachers love to steal hot ideas.

The 2020 vision lasted a few months, I think. It’s only 2015, so something is not quite right.

Wilkerson’s son Richie once preached about “microwave sermons.” The day you’re supposed to preach approaches, and you realize you have nothing to say, so you call a buddy and have him email you a sermon. You then serve his stale crap to your congregation, like a microwaved burrito.

He thought he was telling us about the problems preachers have, but he was really telling us God had not chosen him to teach us. If God had chosen him, he would have had something to say.

Rich Wilkerson manipulated people with Steve Munsey’s “Seven Blessings of Passover” nonsense, telling them God would give them a great year if they gave him lots of money. Then I exposed that lie, and he reinvented it as the “Heart for the House” offering, meaning the people were supposed to devote themselves to building his corporation.

In the Bible, “house” means something different. It refers to a human being God is trying to build. This is not something Rich Wilkerson has a heart for.

My last church put the pastor’s brother in law in charge of various things. It seemed like they were impressed because he had a career that involved IT. He put the church on Indiegogo (yes, I know) and tried to raise money. He led the men’s ministry and made us do silly team exercises which almost certainly came from corporate training. We were asked to participate in a tug of war to demonstrate how important it is for everyone to pull. I refused. A tug of war is a great way to put yourself in the hospital, especially if you’re over 40. You can’t make uneducated people understand the forces involved when several tons of men pull in different directions on a rope.

We also went bowling once, at a really dirty facility that served rotten food. That was pretty bad.

People who don’t pray have bad ideas, or they take bad ideas from other people. They have no business running anything. Even if you do pray, you need some time to mature. If you were stealing cars last year, you probably aren’t ready to be a youth pastor.

I’m not really comfortable with the whole “youth pastor” idea. We should learn from older people, because they’re the ones who know things.

This morning I realized how free I am. I don’t have to give big donations to wasteful people now. I don’t have to be on the prayer line for several hours a week. I don’t have to come to seven a.m. volunteer meetings and then serve until mid-afternoon, for pastors who show up late for church and then prolong the services by showing boring slides of their grandchildren.

I talk directly to God every day. He teaches me things that are true and useful. He isn’t repeating nonsense he heard on TBN.

Once nice thing about God is that he tries to improve me. He doesn’t try to convince me that Christianity is about money and miracles. He shows me the infected places on my heart. He shows me what I’m wrong about. He gives me motivation to admit fault and change.

The pastor at New Dawn was obsessed with grace. He rejected the idea that our own corruption causes problems. He believes that once you’re saved, God thinks you’re wonderful, and he does not expect you to show a lot of interest in repentance or improvement. He thinks our problems are caused by lack of faith, not iniquity or lack of obedience. He sees talk of repentance and correction as legalism.

If you tell him fat type 2 diabetics who eat everything in sight are sick because they’re gluttons, he won’t want to hear it. If you tell him we give evil spirits authority over our bodies, to cause disease, by hardening our hearts toward God’s correction, he will think you’re self-righteous.

It’s remarkable, really. He thinks talking about repentance and obedience is legalism, but he says God rewards tithes and offerings with wealth because of grace.

In the Old Testament, God told Malachi he would reward the Jews financially for giving to the priests. The people who got this promise were under the law. They had financial problems because they disobeyed the law. Restoring the offerings was a legalistic move. Obvious?

If you’re tithing, you’re obeying the law, not the Spirit. It shouldn’t be necessary to point that out.

He tries to get around this by saying Abraham tithed, but as far as we know, Abraham only tithed once. And the Jewish law of the tithe was never applied to non-Jews. Abraham was circumcised. Do we have to do that too?

I made myself unwelcome by telling people God expected us to fight our iniquities and obey the Holy Spirit. I said the prosperity gospel was a crock. That was helpful information people needed to have.

Now I don’t have to sit in the sanctuary wondering if I should say something because Albert or Rich wouldn’t like it. Or worse, because their wives, who are out of control, wouldn’t like it.

I don’t have to sit through an endless series of pastor appreciation events. I don’t have to watch the church give money to the pastor’s son, who treats older people like children and needs a boot in the rear.

It’s very good.

In the past, when I got away from church, I lost my relationship with God, but I have reached a point where churches interfere with that relationship. America’s churches are extremely screwed up. I’m sure there are good ones out there, but I don’t know of any. Definitely not around here.

The people who run our churches are doing tremendous harm. The prosperity nuts may be the worst. They fill people’s heads with promises that do not come true. They treat them disrespectfully. They use churches as their personal mad money funds. They promote their idiot relatives and give them money taken from poor people’s tithes. They even try to make churches cut people off socially for correcting them.

They do things people in the secular world go to jail for.

These swine on two legs are poisoning people against church and against God. I would hate to be in their shoes when it comes time to face him.

How can we expect people to trust God if the preachers who claim to represent him hurt us and lie to us? Is it really worth it, so you and your wife can quit working and buy things your skills and knowledge could never bring you in a secular setting? Many of the people you hurt have very little. Many were holding on by the skin of their teeth when they came to you, and you kicked them in the mouth.

I’m not sure when I’ll set foot in a church again. It seems like God has to work some positive changes in me, and he knows that every preacher within driving distance will only hinder him.

If a church has hurt you, and you don’t know where to turn, the best advice I can give you is to spend a lot of time praying every day. Ask God to correct you. Ask him to fill you with the Holy Spirit and the gift of prayer in tongues. Then use the gift as much as you can, and listen.

I don’t know what to think about the blood-drinkers in the pulpits. I assume their piglike behavior will be used to justify violent persecution eventually.

Don’t be too absorbed about serving at church. Be absorbed in knowing God and correcting yourself. The other stuff is much less important.

Touch not my Self-Appointed

Tuesday, October 27th, 2015

Do my Sideshow Barkers no Harm

I would say the drama continues, but it’s only drama if it makes you suffer, so I guess I can’t say that.

You will recall how I lost my old Facebook account, and the pastor of my old church, New Dawn Ministries, went on Facebook and said God cancels the accounts of people who go after men of God.

I thought I was done with the whole circus for a while, but this weekend I had lunch with friends who go to the church, and they told me that another pastor gave a sermon in which he told people they shouldn’t “like” things “haters” put up on Facebook.

You have to realize, this church meets in a room twice the size of a two-car garage. If you think they’re talking about you, they probably are. There aren’t a lot of targets to choose from.

My friends thought the sermon was ridiculous, and of course, so do I.

A young lady who used to be very close to them started chiming in on things I wrote. Her husband actually lived with the pastors for a while, and they helped him get his life together. It looks like the relationship has soured a bit.

She and her husband left the church a long time ago. I assumed they were just cooling off, but it looks like that is not so. The pastors pulled her out of a position she had held for four years, and somehow or another, things went south.

Now she has a lot to say. She doesn’t care who hears it. She said they mismanage the building fund and use it as a piggy bank. She complained about greed. She also said they had told people not to associate with her. She asked if they had done that to me, and I said they hadn’t.

Then I thought about the sermon. That was an effort to discourage people from communicating with me. So my answer to her question was wrong. They’re trying to get people to shun me.

She even thinks they got my Facebook account closed, which is possible, but they probably don’t know how to do things like that.

She referred to the pastor’s wife as the Facebook police. I thought I was the only one who had dealt with that.

It’s true that there are some people I don’t hear from now. But those people weren’t actual friends. Had they been friends, they would not have paid any attention to social pressure from people who run the church. The pastors can’t take friends away from me, but they were able to unmask people who only pretended to be friends. That’s a plus for me. I can’t always tell who is with me and who isn’t, so they gave me a hand with that.

I also found out that some people who appeared to be against me or neutral were actually for me.

So far, I haven’t gotten into the real purpose of this blog post, which isn’t about the microscopic details of a petty disagreement. The real topic is openness among Christians.

Long before I left New Dawn, I had two dreams that warned me about the upcoming problems. Rich Wilkerson, the pastor of Trinity Church, figured in both of them.

As far as I can tell, Wilkerson is totally useless as a man of God. I don’t think he ever thinks about helping anyone except himself or his family. I think his driving motivation in life is to accumulate money and become more famous. He’s like Mammon, wearing a flesh suit that used to be a man.

This explains his function in my dreams.

In the first dream, I went into New Dawn, and the whole church was dark. It was night, which is the time that belongs to the devil. There was only one light on in the church, and it was in the office. Rich Wilkerson was in there alone, counting money.

I told the pastors at New Dawn about the dream. Obviously, it was a warning that the same greedy spirit that ran Trinity was going to try to take over.

In the second dream, Rich Wilkerson followed me when I moved from Trinity to New Dawn. Again, it was night. I went into the church’s kitchen and saw him giving the volunteers orders, telling them what to do even though he didn’t run the place.

The meaning of this dream was that Satan would take people who volunteered at the church and use them to twist the pastors’ minds. They would come up with carnal plans that looked good to the pastors, and through these plans, the spirit would control the church. The kitchen is not the sanctuary; it’s a place where worldly tasks predominate.

I told the pastors about this dream, too.

I’m not the only one who warned them. A friend of mine stood up and told them they had to stay on the right course. I don’t recall everything they said. Another friend talked to them on the phone and told them they needed to listen to me, because I would help guide them.

The ironic thing about these dreams is that they could have helped the pastors, but in the end, they only helped me. The information God gave them through my two friends helped the friends. The pastors didn’t get anything out of it.

I’m still digressing.

I used to be somewhat cautious about what I said about preachers publicly. I had been brainwashed by the warped teachings on authority and submission, and by people who discouraged gossip without knowing what it actually was.

Now I will say just about anything, anywhere, as long as I believe God wants me to say it.

The Bible says we’re not supposed to touch God’s anointed. Crooks and frauds love to stand in the pulpit and repeat this, because it makes people afraid to expose them.

There are a couple of problems with the way people interpret the verse.

First of all, “anointed” means “authorized.” It applies to people who are doing what God authorized them to do. God never authorized anyone to teach the poor to give the church all their money. He never authorized anyone to teach the positive-thinking gospel. The characters who teach this nonsense aren’t anointed. They’re in rebellion. They’re wolves in sheep’s clothing. A number of them aren’t even Christians. They just like easy money.

Second, what does “touch” mean? If I disagree with you publicly, have I “touched” you in the meaning of the verse? Of course not. There’s nothing wrong with speaking honestly to a man of God. When the Bible was written, prophets were beaten and murdered. They had real problems, not Facebook posts.

If you look up the Hebrew word translated “touch,” it also means things like “afflict” and “strike.” So it’s kind of a stretch to apply it to someone who says maybe the pastors shouldn’t go on vacation four times a year at the congregation’s expense.

There is more to the subject, though. Almost no one considers this: if I spend more time with God than you do, and you’re wandering around doing your own thing, I have the right to correct you as God sees fit. Publicly or privately. Usually it’s best to correct people privately, but we are not under the law, so it’s not mandatory, and aside from that, when people repeatedly reject private correction, it becomes pointless.

Virtually nobody who fought with me has the kind of prayer habits I do. I am not bragging. It’s just a fact. God addicted me to prayer, and now I spend a great deal of time with him. The people who try to correct me pray very little. They have no right to open their mouths, because they’re not prepared.

It’s amazing how our confidence in our standing contrasts with our qualifications.

Every lukewarm hypocrite who goes to church once a year and only prays when he buys a lottery ticket feels entitled to air his opinions about God. That’s not the way it’s supposed to work. If you don’t know anything, you should shut up. You may have an opinion, but it’s worthless, and you should realize that.

I have the right to speak openly about the bad things preachers do. If you want to challenge me, develop a prayer life and ask God what you should do about me. Otherwise, be quiet. You’re in over your head.

I’ll go beyond that. Even if your prayer life is weak, if you know for a fact that a preacher is crooked or incompetent, you should say so, with reasonable discretion.

I used to think the pastors at New Dawn were great. I still believe they were much better than they are now. Anyway, other people left the church because they knew things I didn’t know. If they had spoken up sooner, maybe I would have awakened sooner.

The spirits that corrupt churches love the “speak no evil” mantra, because it protects them. Termites, roaches, and fungi love the dark. When the light comes in, it ruins everything for them. It will disarm evil spirits, and if a preacher isn’t totally corrupted by pride, it will wake him up and correct him.

If you’re sure something is badly wrong with your pastors, why would you keep it quiet? Malfunctioning pastors ruin lives. They hurt our friends. Yet we help them by adhering to a code of silence.

How are you a friend if you let someone like Benny Hinn take your friend’s money?

I am now beyond blunt when I talk about preachers. I don’t care about them or their jobs. If you hurt people for a living, your job should be taken away. Why should I help you drink the blood of innocent people?

I don’t know if I’ll ever go to church again. How am I supposed to find one that isn’t crazy? There must be a few out there, but I don’t know of any. I’ll wait, and if God sends me somewhere, I’ll go. Until then, I won’t worry. Worrying leads to carnal decisions.

My advice is to be honest but not vindictive or cruel. Say what will promote a positive result, and sleep soundly afterward.

I’ve been involved with preachers that had problems, and I have been fooled, but looking back, I can say that I never supported them in anything I knew to be wrong. I put up with a certain amount of error, because it’s inevitable, but I never pretended I thought something was right when I knew it was wrong.

If you want to argue with me, that’s fine. Just make sure you spend a few years praying several hours a day first. After that we can talk.

Grow Up

Tuesday, October 20th, 2015

Your World is Upside-Down

I had a couple of interesting experiences this weekend. I watched two really bad movies and got some great revelations afterward.

Revelation is a funny thing. Sometimes it’s something you already know or could have figured out had someone asked you, yet somehow, after God points it out to you, it becomes part of you in a new way.

The first movie I watched was Lucy. This is a film about a girl who overdoses on a miracle drug and suddenly develops the ability to use more of the brain than the rest of us.

There is a persistent myth that people only use 5% or 10% of their brains. That may be true in certain parts of California, but people with common sense realize it’s a made-up “fact.” The brain sucks up a lot of energy, and it’s bulky to carry around. It wouldn’t make a whole lot of sense to equip people with a big expensive organ that doesn’t do much.

In Lucy, Scarlett Johannson is drafted as a drug mule. A mean Taiwanese drug kingpin sews a bag into her belly so she can smuggle it to another country. The bag contains a chemical pregnant women produce to make their embryos develop. It breaks, and she starts developing super powers.

At 20%, she has the ability to understand Chinese instantly. I wish I had that ability while trying to get new Chinese tools to work. I would be able to download manuals I could actually understand.

The movie is awful, but I needed something to kill time while the birds were out of their cages, so I sat through it. Any fourth-grader who gets Bs in science will realize the fake science in the movie is stupid even by movie standards, and the plot is also crazy.

Lately, God has been showing me how important it is to quit getting new things and to make the most of what I already have. Sometimes your problem is that you need new stuff, but how can you be sure if you haven’t given your old stuff a chance? Covetousness is all about abandoning what you have in favor of something new, and it’s not just bad because it puts you in debt or causes friction with the people who already have what you want. It’s bad because it prevents you from developing. The most important part of the old stuff you need to make the most of is you, yourself.

In the movie, Lucy got really smart. She figured out the secrets of quantum mechanics and so on. She became so smart everything was easy for her. She shot all sorts of bad guys. She outwitted everyone she encountered. You can probably guess. But she didn’t get new stuff. She didn’t build new tools. She didn’t need to, because there was so much new power in her.

When the movie was over, I got a sudden revelation: people fixate on fixing the world around them when they should be working on themselves.

Obvious, but I felt it take root in me, and that was new.

As the movie unfolded, this fictional character was in the process of filling a flash drive with knowledge that would help humanity with its technical problems, but she, herself, proved that what she was doing was a waste of time. Because she had been improved, she didn’t need more tools. The rest of humanity didn’t need her flash drive and the new knowledge. They needed a way to become like her.

Technology exists largely to help us with problems caused by our inner shortcomings. If we were truly connected to God and living in faith and submission, we wouldn’t need gadgets and cures. We wouldn’t have most of the problems those things are intended to fix.

When Jesus met people who had diseases, he didn’t hold telethons to raise money for research. He told them to be healed, and that was it. He didn’t need microscopes, centrifuges, imaging machines, drugs…not even an exam table. That’s what life is supposed to be like. We have to come up with complicated solutions to our problems because we lost contact with the simple solution.

That may not sound deep, but it’s very important. The more you work on yourself, the better your life will be. It’s easy to take away your toys and money. It’s very hard to take away the inner qualities and assets that make you powerful and successful. They will save you no matter what happens in the world around you.

Last night, I watched X-Men: Days of Future Past.

I can’t help it. I like the Wolverine. And nothing else was on. Believe me, I looked.

The X-Men movies center on a paranoid fantasy: humanity’s war on mutants.

In the X-Men world, genetic mutations are giving rise to a race of beings with magical powers. They can do all sorts of impossible things. Some can shoot fire out of their bodies. Some have unlimited healing power, so you can’t kill them. There was one that was able to disappear in one place and instantly appear in another, yards away. Just silly stuff. The Marvel people don’t even try to make it sound reasonable.

The humans in the movies are scared of the mutants, probably because this is Marvel’s way of lecturing the world about our evil deeds, such as making a responsible effort to watch our borders and refusing to bake cakes for gays. I’m not sure. Anyway, the idea is that the mutants have so much power, we can’t hope to fight them once they get it together, so mean humans decide the smart thing is to round them up and kill them. Or “cure” them of their mutations.

In last night’s movie, a midget named Trask manufactured evil robots called…you won’t believe this…”sentinels.” Yes, I know. This is the same name the Matrix people used for evil robots that killed rebels. The X-Men sentinels had qualities that came from research done on a murdered mutant. Trask took her DNA and used it to give the robots all sorts of mutant powers. So when they attacked mutants, the mutants were totally outgunned. Any given robot could duplicate any mutant power, and that’s bad if you’re a mutant and all you can do is turn everything you touch into pudding.

In the movie, some of the mutants hid their powers. A couple took a serum to suppress them. They were willing to stunt themselves in order to fit in and avoid trouble. What the mutants really needed to do was to get together, organize, make the most of their powers, and fight. The head good mutant, Dr. Xavier, had a special school dedicated to teaching mutant kids how to use their powers and survive.

Again, as if I need to repeat it, the movie was stupid. Even by Marvel standards. It was not good. But I watched it, because almost any movie with superheroes and explosions in it is at least mildly entertaining.

Afterward, I got the revelation. It was so strong, I stopped walking, stood in a doorframe, held on, and stamped my foot.

In this natural world, a developed Christian is a real-life superhero. A person who has built himself up in the Holy Spirit and aligned himself with God’s will can do absolutely anything God tells him to do. Jesus walked on water and turned water into wine. Those are things a comic book superhero might do. It sounds like a silly comparison, but it’s true. He cured diseases. He ran supernatural beings off just by talking to them. We are supposed to do greater things than he did, but we don’t.

Working to develop your power is well worth it, and you don’t have to part the Red Sea in order to accomplish amazing, helpful feats. Long before you find yourself walking on water and doing similarly spectacular things, you will find that you can defeat people and situations simply by praying or by speaking certain words in faith. Those are wonderful abilities no unaided human being has.

We are supposed to be a powerful family of invincible beings, but we’re not, because we are too busy focusing on fitting in and getting God to give us external blessings like money. To God, those things are like prosthetics. We are like cripples who turn down healing because we prefer Air Jordan wheelchairs.

The prosperity gospel has never worked. It’s a total waste of time and money. But it’s worse than that. It succeeds at the thing it was actually designed to do: it keeps us powerless. Meanwhile, the spirits around us, and the carnal people who serve them, walk all over us. We should be ruling over them, but they do with us as they please, because we don’t know who we are. And we are few in number because we don’t try.

It’s an odd way to look at Christianity, but it’s completely consistent with the Bible.

Satan created a race of superhuman beings called the nephilim; the giants. From a natural standpoint, they were better than we are. They were bigger and stronger. They were dominant. But God killed them off because while they were big in the natural world, they were spiritual midgets. They didn’t have the Holy Spirit. They had no love or compassion. They were not submitted to God. They killed his people day after day.

We are supposed to be supernatural giants. Instead, we focus on natural stilts like wealth and power, to make us look like giants in this corrupt world. Then we die, and we lose those things. All we have left then is what we have made of ourselves.

So we have nephilim hearts and human bodies. That’s a horrible combination. No wonder everyone pushes us around. We have the worst of both races.

We need to be building ourselves up in the Spirit. If we were doing that, we would be strong, and we would multiply. We would be dominant, as the Hebrews were dominant when they took over Israel. As it is, we now run from gays and illegal aliens. We even run from animals. We are reintroducing large predators into areas our ancestors had the good sense to run them out of, and we can get in big trouble for bothering them when they come into our yards, where our children play. It’s funny; one of the plagues of Egypt was a flood of wild animals that terrorized people.

This blog post will sound nutty to people, but if you’re a Christian, you already believe the first human being was made from mud, and you believe God made the sun stand still so Joshua could fight. It’s not a question of whether you believe strange things. It’s a question of which strange things you’re willing to believe.

Keep praying in tongues. Keep asking God for correction and humility. Keep listening. Keep admitting you can’t help yourself. Confess everything to God. Confess your negative feelings about him. He already knows about them, he knows you want to get rid of them, and he wants to help.

The future is assured, but if you want your place in it, you’re going to have to submit. Not just on Sunday, but all day, every day. Your whole life has to belong to God. I’m not saying you can’t survive without making mistakes. I’m saying you have to side with God against everyone, including yourself, all the time.

This will help you, if you can hear it. Time is getting short and patience is running dry, so get on board while you can.

My Encounter With the Red Pill

Monday, October 12th, 2015

We have Artificial Intelligence but no Artificial Empathy

A fascinating thing happened last night. Facebook killed my account.

I don’t pay much attention to the terms of service when I use message boards and Twitter and so on. I figure that if I behave, everything will be fine. I didn’t know, or I forgot, that Facebook has an unusual requirement: they insist that you use your real name.

Using your real name on the Internet is not a bright idea. If you have enough of a presence, determined people will be able to find out who you are and what your address is, but most people are not determined, so if you use an alias, they will leave you alone. I generally use aliases.

I used my real name on Facebook for quite some time, but one day I decided to change that. I altered the last name. Then last night Facebook told me I would have to send them a scan of an ID in order to get back in. And the name on the ID had to match my Facebook name.

This adds up to abrupt, permanent obliteration. I can’t produce an ID with a fake name on it, so I’m all done. I can’t get back in. Everything I posted on Facebook will disappear, and so will my photos.

Am I mad at Facebook? Yes, but only because they gave me no warning. They should say, “If you don’t give us your real name within x days, we will kill your account.” That would give you time to tell people your time was short, so they would realize you hadn’t blocked them. Other than that, I’m not mad at all. Facebook can do anything it wants with its own service.

Now that I think about it, it’s a form of social extortion. If they gave you time to leave gracefully, you would be in control of the situation. Because they slam the door with no warning, you end up in a position where you have to do what they want. To me, this isn’t important, but to many people, it’s a big deal. They use Facebook for business, or they have big networks of people they need to stay in touch with for one reason or another. Also, there are things on the web you can sign into using Facebook, and they may be more important to you than Facebook itself.

My guess is that the nerds at Facebook thought this over carefully and did it on purpose in order to coerce us. Maybe the NSA gave them the idea, or maybe it’s just typical nerd behavior. Nerds tend to have stunted hearts, and they like controlling other people. They are very dangerous because of their power, lack of maturity, and lack of empathy. Maybe the wedgies and red bellies they get when they’re young are society taking revenge in advance.

I lost like 1300 uploaded photos. That’s a relief. I saw the exact figure the other day, and the size of it bothered me. I didn’t realize I had uploaded so many things. I didn’t want them to have that much stuff. Now they don’t, in a way. It’s still on their servers, but they can’t publish it any more. They can still give it to Obama, I guess, but the Fourth Amendment is dead, so he can get his hands on just about anything he wants with or without Facebook, and as far as I know, he has no reason to bother me anyway.

I didn’t actually lose the photos. I just lost the online collection. I still have them. After all, I had to have them in order to upload them.

Facebook was a handy way to put things on the Internet. If I wanted to post a photo on a forum or my blog, I could upload it to Facebook from my phone. That’s very quick. Then I could copy it to my PC and upload it again, wherever I wanted. I will miss that. Now I’ll have to use email.

What’s really interesting is not the effect on my online presence, though. It’s the way it affects my offline life.

I was using Facebook too much. I’m a writer, and for me, writing is about as hard as breathing. I can produce huge amounts of content with almost no effort, and I enjoy it. Facebook was an outlet for me, and it was easy to use, so I filled it up.

I got in the habit of looking at my phone a lot. Once I caught myself turning away from Facebook on the PC to check Facebook on my phone.

Habits can be pretty crazy. Obviously, I knew what I did was irrational, but I was very used to looking at Facebook when I took a break from things, and I had just taken a break from…Facebook.

To a great extent, I let Facebook replace offline interaction with people. I am solitary by nature, and I got pushed out of my church–my biggest social outlet–earlier this year. I used Facebook to stay close to people I knew. This is a legitimate, possibly healthy use of Facebook, but only as an adjunct. Not when it becomes a substitute.

When I saw I was exiled, I felt like I was in withdrawal. I didn’t like the sensation. But I was glad, because getting rid of things you depend on too much is always good.

I had a long prayer session last night. God showed me some things.

He showed me my prayers are answered with much greater consistency these days. He showed me that he is restoring things. He showed me that he is changing my heart so I side with him, even against myself. He showed me how I had sided against him for most of my life.

You don’t just side against God by committing obvious sins like fornication and stealing. You side against him by believing lies about him and criticizing him in your heart. If you think, even for an instant, that he isn’t doing the best job possible, and that his intentions toward you aren’t perfect, you’re siding against him. You’re believing the devil and the spoiled people who think God doesn’t do enough for them. If you think he is slow to answer, or that he is withholding good things for no sound reason, you’re siding against him. If you feel resentment toward him when something unpleasant happens, even if your mind hates the feeling and admits it’s wrong, your heart is siding against him.

You have to side with God, because he IS right, and you have to do one more thing: you have to hate Satan and have utter contempt for him. He is nothing. He is the excrement of creation. The lake of fire is creation’s septic tank. That’s harsh, but it’s true. He is totally worthless. You have to despise him as well as his ways and his promises.

The supernatural is full of symmetry. If we are supposed to praise God, of course we are supposed to contemn the ridiculous loser spirits that are against him, just as law-abiding citizens contemn the sleazy, defeated, stupid individuals who populate the underworld.

Somehow or another, this was related to the Facebook problem, but I can’t recall how.

God reminded me of something I realized recently: my days of defeat are over. Because I have been asking for correction, I have been turned around so I am headed in the right direction. I have not received every good thing life has to offer, but I am now headed toward them, and I can’t be stopped. I can be deterred temporarily, but it is no longer possible to overcome me permanently. I will win. No one who is against me has the power to prevent it. They are all losers. They don’t have the capacity to win.

I will win because I am becoming aligned with the will of the only real power there is: the permanent alpha male of all creation. If I am for him in my heart, and I keep turning back to him, no one else matters. They are lower than bugs before his power.

That’s really something. Crazy things may happen, but I’ve already won. Things will never stop getting better for me. Never. I’m like a leper who just received a dose of a cure. I may have scabs and sores today, but tomorrow I will have fewer of them, and a month from now, even more will have fallen off. Meanwhile, new scabs and sores will continue to appear on my enemies.

I can’t ask for instantaneous victory in all areas, but life is now a continuous and perpetual series of victories, so I will live my way into blessings day by day as long as I’m alive, like a product on an assembly line, receiving new parts as it progresses.

The one big change I would like to see is this: I would like to lose the habit of anticipating defeat that doesn’t come.

God gives me victory, over and over. “Victory” pretty much implies “battle,” though. Things that seem like problems arise, and I do supernatural warfare, and my faith tells me I’ve won. Then I win. But often I still worry, and that prevents me from enjoying victory until my eyes see it.

I’ve been bitten in the rear end a lot in life. Many times, I’ve been in positions where victory was natural and seemed inevitable, and in spite of everything, I’ve experienced sudden, unexpected attacks followed by defeat. That got me in the habit of expecting to lose. The habit of losing creates the habit of expecting loss. I’m much better about this than I used to be, but I look forward to a time when the habit of worry is totally destroyed. That way, instead of enjoying victory when I see it, I’ll start enjoying it as soon as God tells me it’s mine. That’s how life is supposed to be.

I don’t know if I’ll join Facebook again. It’s nice to be away from it. It’s also nice to use it to communicate.

I am concerned about the controlling nature of the people who design technology, as well as the controlling nature of technology itself. People tend to pass their traits on to their children, and technology has many warped, cruel, amoral, unempathetic fathers.

When you use Facebook now, it sends you ads based on things you’ve seen on the web, even if you try to opt out. If you look at something on Amazon, it will pop up over and over on Facebook. If it’s doing that with wrenches and T-shirts, what happens when you go to political and religious sites? What happens if you look at pornography or you have cybersex? Are the warm, loving, forgiving nerds disposing of all that powerful information, because they respect your privacy?

If God lets the world persist, technology is going to become extremely oppressive. They already have enough cheap storage to contain all of our emails and cell calls. The power of technology will continue to increase. And because technology never forgets and always analyzes, weird things will happen.

The Internet will know when you’re sick, before your doctor does. It will know if you use drugs, just by correlating things about your web use with known information about drug users, even if you never mention drugs on the Internet. It will know things about your relationships, before you and the people in your relationships suspect them. It will start to predict the future with surprising accuracy, and eventually, lawmakers will decide that we have to defer to its conclusions. America will be like a giant, self-driven Google car.

We already have “pre-crime” interventions. Blogger Michele Catalano got a surprise visit from armed feds because someone in her home Googled “pressure cooker.” It won’t be all that long before the feds have the power to bring a van to your house, put you and your family in it, and whisk you away to indefinite incarceration without trial, simply because the Internet says you’re going to cause problems. This will happen to people before they even think about rocking the boat. The Internet will know their intentions before they form them. It will be wrong sometimes, but how will you prove that? If Mama Internet says you’re going to shoot the president, and they put you away before you can do it, and you never get the chance, how do you prove she was wrong?

Facebook may be the tool that turns into Big Brother, or it may be Google Hangouts, or it may be something we haven’t seen yet, but we are all being turned into cells in one big, diseased brain. Loss of liberty is inevitable. Privacy, like private property, is an essential part of liberty. We don’t think about that much. I’ve never seen anyone mention the connection publicly.

I wonder if the ability to post memes and look at cat pictures is so valuable it justifies jumping back into the cage. Maybe it does. Maybe resistance IS futile, so I might as well make hay while the sun shines.

The devil has a long history of constructing seemingly impregnable structures, which God crushes with surprising speed. He and the other angels had huge children who were much more powerful than humans, and God drowned them all in a few days. Satan condemned the entire human race to hell and won the earth as a prize, and God reversed it with the crucifixion. The huge artificial brain that surrounds the earth appears to be Satan’s latest stronghold. Do we run from it in terror, or should we just enjoy technology and rest in the realization that this stronghold, like every one that came before it, will be humbled and rendered harmless?

I don’t know the answer yet.

I may sign up again. I may not. I’m not sure staying out will help me. On the other hand, I’m sure that going back in will not hurt me. Not in any meaningful, lasting way.

Gross Examination

Tuesday, October 6th, 2015

The Billy Mays of Advanced Math?

Still fiddling with math and physics.

I’ve had the strangest sensation lately. I feel like I’m inside RLM, the math/physics/astronomy building at the University of Texas. This is the building where I worked and went to classes when I was hoping to get a doctorate. I guess I spent 20 hours a week there.

The people were really dreary. I’m not the most outgoing person on earth, but I could not make friends there. Could not do it. Everywhere I go, I manage to make friends with at least one person within a month. Not the physics department.

The guy who shared my desk in the TA office was okay, and there was a Navy guy who became an experimental physicist. He had a harder time with the work than I did, and I thought he was going to wash out, but he made it and I didn’t. There was also a guy I sort of talked to occasionally. He had a thing for Asian girls So much so that he planned to move to Japan to teach English.

Oh, my God. I just Googled him, and he’s a physics professor. In Tokyo. He has been busy.

I never made a dent socially while I was there, and I suffered pretty badly, but I miss certain things. I miss teaching. The kids I taught were not as odd as the grad students, and it was nice to know that I was good at something.

RLM is named for Robert Lee Moore, a famous mathematician from Texas. I Googled him the other day and found out. I’m sure I saw his name on a plaque whenever I entered the building, but I don’t recall.

Moore is famous for math, and also for racism. He refused to teach black students back when UT was forced to accept them. They still named a building after him. If you wear a Dukes of Hazzard T-shirt to your quantum mechanics class, you’ll probably be told to turn it inside-out, but you will still be expected to sit in a building named after a maladjusted, hateful, racist crank.

I looked around on Youtube for some complex analysis lectures, to help me remember what I used to know so well. I found Herbert Gross. If you’re a student, you have to check this guy out.

He appears in old black and white videos published by MIT Open Courseware. The video quality is about like old Andy Griffith shows, so I figured he was filmed in about 1960, but the videos are from the early 1970s.

He’s a magnificent teacher.

I don’t know for sure, but the impression I have from all my years of study is that teaching pedigree means a lot.

There are certain things people who study a given subject should know; things they will be expected to know, even though you don’t have to know them in order to be good at the subject. You can make up a series of lectures and teach a subject well without referring to other people’s lectures, but you are likely to miss various characteristic anecdotes and examples that are commonly taught.

I think this is because many instructors can trace their roots back to instructors who were seminal, just as piano teachers claim they can trace their roots back to Liszt. Wolfgang Pauli, or whoever, included this or that bit of information in his lectures, so his students went on to include it in theirs, and so on.

Studying under people whose lectures conform to common standards is helpful, because you will run into instructors who expect you to know things that are commonly taught, and they may put these things in assignments on on tests.

I guess that was a long digression, but the feel I get from watching Herbert Gross is that he developed right in the thick of the math/physics/engineering community in the northeast. He seems to know exactly what’s important and useful, as though he has heard it himself via a long practiced tradition.

He’s apparently still alive. Either that, or he died and no one remembered to remove his website. He was still around last year.

I don’t know if my guess about him is right, but I think it’s definitely smart to try to learn from people at places like MIT or Harvard or the University of Chicago when possible, before taking a chance on people whose pedigrees are unknown.

His videos are wonderful. He really flies, but he is exquisitely prepared, so everything he says is clear. If your instructors stink, check him out. I wish to God I had had Youtube back in my day, when I was watching my Japanese professor point at different expressions and say things like, “Jees one, jees one, all same.”

If you don’t understand what that means, we are in the same boat.

One nice surprise is that I don’t struggle. I guess that makes sense. After all, this material used to be easy for me, and it should be in my brain somewhere, waiting to be reactivated. I fast-forward a lot. But I do have to do problems, because understanding is not the same as remembering with the kind of familiarity required for actual work.

I don’t know why math was easy and physics was hard. Maybe it’s because math is easy, and physics is hard.

He refers to vector analysis (multivariable calculus) in his complex analysis lectures, so I am checking that out, too. Luckily, he has lectures on both topics.

I don’t know where this is going. If I can just get back to the point where I can look at a graduate physics text and have some understanding of what it says, it will be a huge relief. I feel much better about my brain. I am starting to feel smart again.

Life isn’t about self-confidence, but you shouldn’t doubt yourself wrongly, especially in your heart.

I hope the videos are useful to people. Forty years’ worth of MIT students can’t be wrong. Totally. Not about everything.

Weird Science

Thursday, October 1st, 2015

My State is Solidifying

What interesting times I’m having.

I keep getting deeper into physics and electronics. It’s not something I expected, and it’s not going the way I would have predicted.

For years I’ve had dreams about my time as a physics grad student at the University of Texas. I hated these dreams, but I couldn’t stop them. I would find myself returning to my apartment north of the city. My things were still there. The apartment was different in the dreams. It was gigantic. It was disorderly, too. The kitchen was a mess. Not dirty, but stuff was out on the table and counters. There were messy rooms with all sorts of tools in them.

I would wonder why the company that owned the apartment complex hadn’t thrown me out, since I hadn’t been paying rent.

I would find myself walking around campus, attending August meetings in preparation for the new school year. I wasn’t really part of it, though. I was like a ghost, observing but not really joining.

I did not like the dreams. I knew things weren’t right. I wasn’t ready to go back to work. I hadn’t planned or made arrangements. I was just there, with no warning or preparation. I didn’t feel that I could make it work. I was on my own.

I prayed for God to take away the dreams.

Losing physics was the most painful thing that ever happened to me. I spent three years in Texas, and I didn’t make a single friend, except for a girlfriend. The students in the department were very disagreeable. They were cold. Many were arrogant and snotty, as you would expect boys to be after a twenty-odd years of having their mothers show their brains off to their relatives and friends. The instructors didn’t care at all about the students. The administration was like a machine in a far-off country that transmitted its decisions over a cable. Completely impersonal.

I arrived in Austin in 1994, about three years after returning to college. I had gotten tired of trying to sell houses, and I had tried to enroll at the University of Miami. Because of my problems at Columbia University, they made me go to Florida International University, a local school, to prove I was serious.

When I first decided to go back to school, I figured I would be a lawyer, because it was an easy job that paid well. Then I saw the horrible classes pre-law students took. Boredom epitomized. I decided to become an avian vet, so I signed up for calculus, chemistry, and physics.

I had problems in calculus, and then I remembered that I had failed math in high school. I didn’t really know algebra. I started studying algebra and calculus at the same time, and I went from a 40 on the first test to a 100 and an 97 3/4 on the last two.

UM admitted me, and I started taking courses very quickly. I took courses at the same time as their prerequisites. A guy who taught my second physics lab course ended up sitting next to me in classes, because I progressed to the point where I could study with grad students.

I got burned out in the last year, not surprisingly, and they put me on Ritalin. By the time I got to UT, I had adjusted to the drug, and it didn’t work as well. I was taking huge doses. Up to 120 mg a day. They put me on other drugs which drove me crazy, and I could not make myself study. I had to drop a class.

The department wanted me gone. I guess they were used to seeing people wash out. They didn’t care at all. They did almost nothing for me. They made some small accommodations, and the impression I got was that they were just trying to avoid an ADA suit. They had already been in trouble over that.

I was more alone than I had ever been, and I was losing the thing I thought would save me. A couple of infantile grad students gave me a hard time. I put up posters advertising my services as a tutor, and one of them got in the computer, changed the posters to make me look like a fool, and put them up all over the physics building.

I lost to people I should have beaten, and there was nowhere to turn. The drugs kept me awake for days on end, even after I quit taking them. I had thought I had found my place in society. I thought physics would save me. I was really good at it, and I had every reasonable expectation that I would get much better, but I wasn’t going to get the chance, no matter what I did.

I had test anxiety. I remember taking a test in graduate quantum mechanics. There was a simple problem I could not solve to save my life. After the test, I walked back to the T.A. office, which was shared by various students. I wrote the problem on the board and solved it, just like writing a grocery list. It took a couple of minutes. It was simple. I could do it in the office, but not during the test. Imagine the frustration.

When I prayed, I felt as if the prayers bounced off the ceiling and reverberated around the room. God refused to help me. Or rather, he helped me by turning away from me.

I was trying to do my own thing, with virtually no prayer life. Without submission or confession. In pride.

I never walked in the door of a church in Texas. I only prayed because I was miserable and wanted help, and I did it rarely.

When I returned to Florida and went to law school, it was failure. Anyone can be a lawyer. My family is full of lawyers. It was the dreadful default option, like hell. Other people were proud to be in law school. I was ashamed of it, but there was nothing I could do.

Law turned out to be pretty pleasant, but that didn’t erase the pain of losing physics. I never cared about law. I never wanted to do it.

Over the last few weeks, strange things have been happening. I’ve written about it already. I’ve been watching solid state physics lectures. That’s the class that killed me in Texas. For a long time, I’ve wished I could beat that class, even on my own, just to know I didn’t lose permanently.

I’ve been watching Sandro Scandolo’s lectures for ICTP, the International Centre for Theoretical Physics. I ordered a gray-market copy of the Ashcroft-Mermin book, Solid State Physics. The worldwide standard is a terse book by a guy named Kittel. Ashcroft is easier to understand. Yesterday I found a book of solved problems. It’s not easy to find solved-problem books for graduate-level physics. If you Google “Mihaly,” you’ll find it.

Suddenly, I feel different. I feel like a scientist again. I have the same feeling I used to have when I walked the halls of RLM, the physics building at UT. I can’t explain it. I feel as though I’m there, doing what I used to do. I feel like I can pick up a few things and regain my competence.

UT made me feel as though I were incapable of doing physics. I know that’s not true. No one can start as a math illiterate and end up in a top-tier graduate school in three years without the ability to handle the material. But you know what the Bible says: “A crushed spirit, who can bear?”

Law is easy. I’m sorry if that offends lawyers, but it’s true. If you have an IQ of 110, you can be a lawyer. If you have an IQ of 120, you can be a good lawyer. Those are not high scores. As my evidence professor used to say, to pour water on the burning egos, “You’re just smarter than the average bear.”

Law was just something to do to bring checks in the door. There was not a lot of dignity in it, given the way it entered my life.

I hope I can get through one semester’s worth of solid state. I think that will stop the dreams.

I feel like God has taken his foot off my neck.

Before I go, something I machined. My dad broke a tripod he bought for his laptop, and he asked me if I could fix it. I checked, and they don’t sell the part he broke. I had to make it from aluminum. It’s not beautiful; making it pretty would have increased the time expenditure from half a day to a day and a half. But I had no problems making it, and it’s much better than the plastic it replaced.

09 30 15 laptop tripod part installed with final operations done