Grammy Nausea

Today I wrote a long piece about the Grammy show, which I did not watch. I was disturbed to hear that celebrities were reading from the anti-Trump gossip book which is making the rounds. I was especially disturbed to hear that they put Hillary Clinton on the show, reading from the book. Talk about not being able to let go. Donald Trump is the president. Hillary will never hold that office. If you’re going to live in denial, at least pick someone credible.

Some people say society is becoming polarized. I think that’s too kind. Society is being centrifuged, very forcefully. People who side with God and people who want no part of him are being divided into easily disginguished groups. The divide is sharper than ever, and the deluded folks on the wrong side (the left) are even sillier and less rational than we expected them to become.

I wrote about the sad way celebrities try to extend this life. They get what they want on earth, so they go in for botox, plastic surgery, weird diets, hair dye, girdles, and God knows what else, pretending to be young as long as possible. Then one day the lights go out, and they find themselves in a place where there is no such thing as celebrity. They go from rich and pampered to ordinary, poor, powerless, tormented, and humiliated.

A Christian tires of this life. He looks forward to the end of it. He looks forward to living in a world of fairness and peace.

I wrote about all this, and then I deleted what I had written, because I realized I was jumping on these people as though I had never been one of them. In my youth, I did my best to increase my pride. I tried to succeed as a worldly, selfish person. The thing that stopped me wasn’t principle. God himself stood in the way, and if he hadn’t, I, too, could be in the situation the Grammy crowd is in. I would not know God. I would be alone in the world. I would know despair again. I would once again live in defeat.

People who are against God have no authority. They are wheeled around by demons and fallen angels, from fake triumph to fake triumph, thinking they ran 90-yard touchdowns by themselves. The same spirits that pamper and promote them have the power to cast them down into pits of filth, and when the puppets outlive their usefulness, that often happens. Look at Robin Williams, Elvis Presley, Michael Jackson, Kurt Cobain, Whitney Houston, Amy Winehouse, Harvey Weinstein, Kevin Spacey, Corey Haim, Tom Sizemore…how much space do I have? Such spirits would be wheeling me around right now, had God not stopped me.

Later on in the day I saw a former pro wrestler on video. When he was working, he had huge, bulging muscles all over him. In the video, he looked worse than I do. He was about 6 feet tall, and I would guess he weighed 175. Part of that was a gut. His arms were soft and spindly. His neck was scrawny. His voice had lost its boom. He died after the video was made. He took steroids and other drugs for years, so I assume that’s what killed him.

He made me think of the oddly costumed, hopelessly immature celebrities on the show, reading from their toxic book as though it were the Bible. People who are granted extraordinary success without God are pumped up with pride. They look much bigger than they are. Eventually, that pride will be released, like air from balloons.

There are a lot of ways to give up your youth for fame. Pro wrestling is high on the list. These guys have no common sense at all. They tear their bodies up learning to do fake wrestling. Then if they’re lucky, they get called up by Vince McMahon or someone similar. Then they spend their careers getting concussions, back injuries, and knee injuries. After that, the industry spits them out on the other side of fame. No one cares about them. Often, the money is gone. They have no skills. And while they’re in the business, they live empty, seedy lives. They use drugs. They fornicate like crazy. They get in real fights. They have terrible problems with their families. The business is like a machine with hopeful kids riding into one end and broken old men and women falling out of the other.

It is amazing how we human beings fall for the same shiny baits, over and over. I’ve often thought fish were stupid for biting plastic lures, but a lure can only take your life. It can’t put you in hell or come between you and God. We bite at things that are much more dangerous, and we know what we’re doing when we make our choices! We hate God’s ways. We don’t want to see him until 5 minutes from the end, so we can beg him for mercy in hopes of getting the same rewards he gives to people who turn to him when they’re 7 years old.

It’s very discouraging, looking at the undignified, underdeveloped dupes who lead our culture. I suppose I think too much about the world as a whole. Most people will go to hell no matter what, and it has always been this way. I have to start focusing on the world within a world. There is a certain segment of society which will respond and survive, and I have to remember that they are out there.

God’s work is salvage. It’s like trash-picking at the dump, complete with the smell and the flies. God passes by most of what he sees. Occasionally, he comes across someone he can work with, and that person is plucked out. He doesn’t quit just because the world is a landfill. One day the landfill will be cleaned out and restored, and he will be left with a shiny harvest that made it all worth it.

I’m glad I don’t watch award shows. I’m glad I don’t know what James Corden or Cardi B looks like. Watching that nonsense would be like sitting in a lifeboat, watching people fight over the best deck chairs on the Titanic.

For me, the rapture can’t come fast enough. I want people to have time to repent, but at the same time, I’m disgusted by the world, and I want to see the foolishness end forever. If you’re attached to this life, you are not seeing things clearly. This planet is a disaster. We are rapidly approaching the point where the return on God’s investment will no longer justify the aggravation we create for him, and then the end will come.

When I think of Christians trying to live in peace and victory in this world, I think of Jesus, sleeping in the boat while the storm raged. He didn’t pretend there was no storm, which is what we do when we pretend the earth is basically a nice place. He relied on supernatural help to keep him calm and confident.

I still remember my dream of the rapture. I fully believed I was on my way. I started rising off the floor, and although I was scared, I was very eager to get it over with. I was happy to see this mess move toward a close. I’m scared of pain and injury, but death itself is something I look forward to.

Think how nice heaven will be. No hateful demonstrations. No nasty Internet comments. No women with tattoos. No perverts. No disagreement of any kind. No BLM. No GLAAD. No abortion clinics. No Grammys. If a bus for heaven pulled up outside, I would be on it in a heartbeat. I am not willing to take stem cells from unborn babies to prolong my tour of duty here. I do not want to have my head frozen; if anything, I want to rot so I can’t be put back together. Don’t put me on a breathing machine. Don’t give me a secondhand heart. Just prop me up in bed with some ice cream and wait for the Lord to punch my ticket.

I hope I can be of some benefit to other people while I’m here. That’s about all I care about, as far as earthly accomplishments. I’m not going to write a bestselling novel or find a cure for cancer. I just want to do what I have been left here to do and move ON.

The Oscars are coming up in March. I think I watched them once when I was in high school. Not planning to sit through them this year. If I want to hear how people feel about Donald Trump, I’ll…well, I won’t want to. I’m sure it will be a great show, but to me, it would be like watching dirty babies give each other mud pies.

I wonder how weird things will get before the end. I really do. Look how weird they are now, and we’re still here.

I’m so glad God didn’t give me what I wanted. Peaking in this life is catastrophic.