We are Riff Raff

A reader has once again recommended an interesting resource: Nomad Capitalist. This is a company that helps people with assets and income move abroad. Its motto is “Go where you’re treated best.” They help people move to places like Singapore and Malaysia, where successful individuals are not yet considered enemies of humanity.

I can’t resist fantasizing about Singapore. Today I looked at some Nomad Capitalist videos. I was just playing around, but when my wife saw me watching, she said she would not hesitate to move to Singapore.

Why would anyone move from a peaceful red state to a tiny island between two dangerous Muslim nations? Does it sound crazy?

Here is what she said: in Singapore, you can let your child ride the subway alone.

Wow. Imagine doing that in New York, Philadelphia, or any other American city. Unthinkable.

We’ve been to Singapore a couple of times. On one visit, they held some kind of outdoor celebration that featured a planned walk among illuminated works of art. Even though we were in the middle of a big city, the park where the event was held was very dark apart from the exhibits themselves.

Families were everywhere. No worries.

Consider Central Park, the 880-acre oasis in the middle of New York City, created by Frederick Law Olmsted. Would you visit at night? It would be more convenient to invite the rapists and muggers to your apartment and get it over with.

America has a huge population of mostly-minority repeat offenders, and they do whatever they want. A couple of days ago, I saw a sheriff on Youtube saying a recent arrestee had a rap sheet with 102 felonies on it. In Florida, where we are supposedly tough on crime. When you hit a hundred felonies, execution, or at least life without parole, should be on the table.

I live in the reddest county imaginable, but you never see kids here riding bikes by themselves, as I did when I was young. You can’t let your kids walk to school as I did.

My dad’s partner had a young son who was stolen from a school bus stop a short walk from his house. He was raped repeatedly, shot in the back, cut in three pieces, and buried in concrete. You could practically hit his school from his house with a rock.

If your kids survive the violent perverts here, they still have to suffer with the tenured perverts in our public schools. The people who tell them Yeshua is a myth and that their parents are basically Nazis.

What about internal strife? Well, Singapore has had riots. The last one was small, in 2013, and before that, you have to go back to 1969. And no one is putting on black pajamas and attacking conservative groups for praying in public.

What about medical care? I’m no fan of nationalized medicine, but Singapore’s universal system is something I could live with. They force you to have your own medical savings account, an idea Democrats assure us would lead to the end of the world. In the US, medical problems are probably the biggest threat to people who prefer to die with substantial estates. At my age, with a family to think about, I am open to the notion that protecting our assets is more important than getting the doctor I want, when I want him. If we had Singapore protecting our assets, we would be better able to pay for private care on the rare occasions when it was needed.

My belief is that the better a country’s inhabitants are, the easier it is to have government programs that work. Singaporeans are better than Americans. We have huge, entrenched demographics that do nothing but bleed the taxpayer, commit crime, and vote for Democrats. When we try to help them, they take advantage and ruin everything. An entitlement attitude, not entitlements themselves, is the major reason our programs are disasters.

What about drugs? Singaporeans kill drug dealers. It works for them. There are no ghettos in Singapore, and when you walk the streets, you don’t see poop, tents, or used needles. You can park your car without assuming, as you would in many American cities, that a junkie will steal everything in it. Street crime, which is driven by drug use in the US, is extremely rare in Singapore.

What about housing? It’s small and expensive. Rent is sky-high compared to a few years ago. But is small housing a bad thing, in and of itself?

I hate being close to people, so I like big properties, but then I live in the United States. Americans are not the best neighbors. They steal. They’re loud. They form abusive HOA’s. They let their dogs terrorize neighborhoods. I don’t think living close to Singaporeans would be the same, because Singaporeans love boredom. They like peace and quiet. I may be wrong, but I’ll bet they get along better with their neighbors than we do.

Eventually I’m not going to feel like cutting trees and mowing large areas, so maybe a little house among nice people would be acceptable.

What about the Second Amendment? The need for self-defense is not likely to arise in a place like Singapore, and the people are at peace with their government, so I think guns would be less important. Let me think. How many Americans do I know who have been robbed at gunpoint? Three, off the top of my head. How many shooting victims have I known? Two. How many of my relatives have shot or shot at people? Two.

The more I think about it, the more I realize something: Americans are bad people. We really are. Not all of us, but enough of us to make America different from peaceful countries. We’re not Somalis or Brazilians, but we’re not the Swiss, either.

When we decided to visit Singapore the first time around, I thought I would hate it because I hate cities. I also thought Singapore was likely to have a culture of selfishness and callousness, because most Singaporeans are Chinese, and China is horrible. Instead, I liked it a lot. The people were nice. It was safe. It was very prosperous. The food was pretty good. Everything was orderly. They even had wonderful public landscaping. I think socialism is what made the mainland Chinese what they are.

After my wife and I came home, we both had the strange feeling that somehow, part of us belonged to Singapore. It felt like home, and I can’t explain that. I guess it was just nicer than America and Zambia.

What about religion? Surprisingly, Christianity, including charismatic Christianity, is on a dramatic upswing in Singapore, having risen from about 10% to about 20%. That’s bizarre. Shocking.

Isn’t Singapore boring and distant? I don’t care if it’s boring, because I’m boring, too. My wife and I live in a boring place, and we love it. As for distance, well, there are jets. We could travel from time to time. I don’t know how soon we would get around to visiting the US, given what it is.

I like dreaming about leaving the US for a better place. I don’t think Singapore is in our future, though. You can’t just walk in and ask for residency.

They have something called the Global Investor Programme. The idea is that if you have a lot of money to invest, you can put it into a Singapore enterprise, and they may give you permanent residency. It’s very hard to understand the criteria, though. I think you need to invest S$10 million inside Singapore. Let’s see. Did I leave my S$10 million in my other pants today? Must have.

A couple of years ago, the price was S$2.5 million. Singapore has decided to keep the riff raff out, though.

My understanding is that you can move to Singapore if you have a job there. “Job.” The word makes my skin crawl. Never again, I hope.

Come Root for the Guys who Matter, Insects

I just saw a weird article. If it’s true, a college football coach just emailed his school’s entire student body and told everyone to go to the next game. He said the team needed them. He said studying could wait. That’s unbelievable. Of course, he probably has a number of players who have other people who study for them, so his perspective may be twisted.

I love writing about our national sickness of sports worship. This is a great example. His school, Indiana University at Bloomington, is supposed to be dedicated to learning, and surely there must be over a hundred extracurricular activities to choose from, but a man who gets paid over $4 million per year to coach one sport for one sex is telling kids the university needs them because his sport needs support.

I don’t get this stuff. I went to one game when I was in high school. I went to one game when I was at Columbia University. When I was getting two degrees at the University of Miami, I didn’t attend any games.

Incidentally, Columbia had an amazing won-loss record. They went at least a decade without winning a game after I left. They played at Baker Field, a tiny stadium which was mostly condemned for safety reasons. There were chain-link fences between seats, separating the safe ones from the dangerous ones.

Our band was The World’s Most Dangerous Band. They wore jeans and T-shirts. I don’t think they practiced. The game I saw (partially) took place during the Carter era, and the Hamilton Jordan cocaine scandal was in the news. At halftime, our band formed a giant nose on the field, and various band members ran up the nostril.

The coach who wrote the email is named Curt Cignetti. He says his team is trying to achieve something historic. Call me crazy, but I think winning a stupid game designed to amuse children is not historic. Groundbreaking research would be historic, though. Or how about a campus-wide revival, featuring thousands of conversions and miracles?

He doesn’t mention the other extracurricular groups. They’re not important. Don’t support the chess club or the forensics team, kids.

I really hate stories about athletes and coaches receiving worship and special treatment. These are people who don’t belong on campus to begin with.

When I lived in Miami, I knew a prosecutor. Then, as now, the main prosecutor was a lady named Kathy Fernandez-Rundle. My acquaintance told me a story about her. Is it true? Well, he “alleged” that it was.

He said a UM football player beat a smaller student severely for no reason. Felony case. From the sound of it, he deserved years in prison. My acquaintance was given the case.

He told me Fernandez-Rundle had him come to her office. He said she told him he WOULD get the victim to agree to lesser charges because the team really needed the player. So prison was not an option, nor was expulsion, nor was the nuclear option of…removing him from the football team.

When I was at Columbia, a huge baseball player named Chris Boyle beat a smaller student who wore glasses. It made the school paper, which is how I know. The story said he ambushed him from behind. He was dating a girl named Carolyn, and the story said Boyle was jealous. Boyle was not expelled.

I knew Carolyn well enough to recognize her in a hallway. She was beautiful. She started up a conversation with me one night while a bunch of us were drinking and hanging out. Good thing I didn’t follow up. I later found out Boyle and his pals hated me for some reason or other, so I guess I dodged a bullet. They used to write nasty things about me in a dorm elevator. Weird. I had no idea who was doing it. I barely knew who they were.

No, wait. Chris, in case you read this, Carolyn and I went to hotels a couple of times every month, behind your back.

Not really.

I hope she married someone who didn’t beat smaller people, including her, for that matter, up.

I decided to Google. She married a doctor with what looks like a Jewish last name. She had 4 children and died at 49.

It’s amazing that an Ivy League school with hopeless athletic teams would let a mediocre athlete destined for a cubicle beat another student badly and then let him get away with it. It’s the kind of thing you would expect from Ohio State.

One of my dad’s partners had a relationship with an NFL player named Najeh Davenport when Davenport was in school. I think he hoped to represent Davenport when he turned pro. That did not happen, perhaps because the partner’s law license was suspended over some interesting behavior.

One day Davenport got upset about something, broke into a female student’s dorm at Barry University in North Miami, and defecated in her closet. Should I say “allegedly”? I don’t think so, because he took a plea instead of risking a long prison term.

At the time, he was attached to the Green Bay Packers. They held onto him. After all, football is important.

She told the police she was in bed when it happened. She saw a strange man a few feet away, pooping in her laundry hamper. That must have made her feel safe. In Florida, she could have shot him, legally, without facing consequences.

America is full of athletes’ rape and DV victims who have been ignored, threatened, or paid to be quiet. It’s business as usual.

If Nicole Simpson had been married to a dentist, he would have been jailed several times instead of being turned loose by cops who asked for autographs.

Nicole Simpson was not important. She could not run very fast or catch a ball. Same goes for Ron Goldman.

I’m glad I’m not a student at Indiana University, because I would be tempted to respond to Coach Cignetti’s email, and after that, I would probably have to watch my back. Someone might poop in my closet.

This world is ridiculous.

Back in May, a court decided college athletes were entitled to be paid. The decision has not gone into effect yet, but it will probably happen later this year. It is expected to help male basketball and football players, female basketball players, and pretty much no one else.

People are saying it will destroy college sports. Man, I hope so. Nothing could make me happier. We need a system in which the hopes of 90% of universities are utterly obliterated. We need to see fans so discouraged they quit buying tickets. Athletes who simply are not smart enough to understand college courses need to be removed from campuses. Coaches who abuse people and teach aggression and dishonesty should be sent home. I suppose the new system would help a lot of these people remain in place, but maybe it would rid us of many others.

I guess I’m hoping for too much, though. The system will surely evolve to avoid reform.

What is Left to Accomplish?

Based on weather forecasts, I made plans to do nothing today, and I am sticking to my plans. But I think I made a mistake.

Hurricane Helene’s weak outer winds were supposed to produce sustained speeds of about 40 mph here. Far as I know, it never happened. I would say the situation this county ended up with is 10% worse than the aftermath of Debby, which left a few downed trees here and there. We got nearly no rain during the Helene crisis, so that’s a plus.

I have some cleaning up to do. Yesterday I checked the forecast to see when it would dry up, because nothing is worse than doing heavy yard work on a 90-degree day when the air is full of steam. The forecast pretty much said it was going to rain until next Friday. The probability figure for today is 88%.

Of course, it’s dry and breezy without much sun. The temperature is about 82 degrees, or 8 degrees lower than recent days. This would have been a good day to clean up.

I don’t understand precipitation probability, and it turns out neither do meteorologists.

At some point in the distant past, I looked it up, and I read that a certain chance of rain meant that there was that much likelihood rain would fall somewhere in the area the chance applied to. So if you were in an area with a 25% chance of rain, the chance that it would rain somewhere in that area was 25%. How much rain? Whatever I read didn’t say. I assumed it had to be a significant amount, because if not, the figure was useless.

I just checked again. A British site says a figure of x percent means x percent of sources have concluded it will rain in the area. How much? Doesn’t say. An American site says it means x percent of the area will get measurable rain.

Either meteorologists have no idea what their own metric means, or they are letting uninformed people try to explain it to us.

Experience has taught me this: if a forecast says the chance of rain will be 60% or more, expect a nasty, rainy day, nearly every time. That’s more useful than the weird things I’m seeing on the web. Anything over 20% is reason to avoid outdoor activities as far as I’m concerned.

I am sitting here doing nothing. I still feel some covid fatigue, and I’m not sure I can start the tractor, so I am in no rush.

I’m not sure what to do with my life these days. We are done traveling. I doubt we’ll go anywhere until far into next year, and we will not be able to go any place exciting because of the baby. We still need to fix the house up a little, but that’s about it. What should we be doing with ourselves?

The world has turned into an immense toilet. Americans have proven they really are stupid enough to put Kamala Harris in the Oval Office. Wokeness is getting worse, not better. We are giving birth to generations of soft, useless, cruel, incompetent, spoiled, godless perverts who will make the last decade look like the Messianic Age.

I don’t know what we’re supposed to do here. I am spending more and more time in prayer. We think about things like good food, medical appointments, and managing our practical affairs. That’s about it.

Lately I have noticed I am sometimes bored. That’s a problem I thought I had left behind decades ago. It’s strange to see it creeping up on me again. I find myself thinking, “I remember this!”

I think I had started believing I was immune to it. I took not being bored for granted for maybe 35 years.

I have zero enthusiasm about America’s future. I don’t want to live here. I don’t know how I’ll defend myself when my son asks me why we put him here, to face seventy-plus years of hiding out in a world gone insane. I can tell him God wants people to have children. Best I can do.

While we are here, we will have to devote a lot of energy to sheltering him from godless friends, Satanic entertainment, exposure to perverts, and so on. We will really have to have God’s help, because we can’t generate our own safe Christian bubble.

I don’t have any projects in mind. There is nothing I want to do here. I don’t want to start big things in a world which has no future.

I try not to imagine a future under Kamala Harris. Obama was an arrogant homosexual atheist who was hard on the church, the unborn, and Israel. Biden was dumb and without conscience, and he appointed godless nutcases to rule over us. Harris would make us miss Biden. She is a complete zero as a human being.

She’s a wonderful exhibit to use in order to prove democracy doesn’t work. When Biden gave her affirmative action and made her his running mate, she was extremely unpopular even among Democrats. That didn’t change during her time in office. Now she may get a legitimate majority in a presidential election. The people didn’t get to vote for alternatives. She was simply installed, and Democrats could either vote for her or let Trump win.

Imagine the kind of pigs she will appoint to abuse and control us if she wins. The worst choices imaginable. Disgusting, vile, incompetent, corrupt, and stupid.

It seems like there should be something to do other than praying and waiting for Yeshua, but if there is, I can’t see it.

Maybe I should prepare a rapture-ready will. Will it matter? Will the wills of raptured people be triggered when they leave? Will they be respected? Will whatever I could leave people be helpful to them in a world where demons and fallen angels are running amok?

I assume people will run around killing each other, squatting in each other’s houses, and stealing each other’s money, so I don’t think a will would be helpful.

There must be something useful for us to do right now. I just need to be told what it is.

What if the rapture doesn’t come, and I have to age and die in Satan’s America? Terrible thought. But I know from experience that if I pray in the Spirit enough, things will work out for me. I can’t do all that much for others, so it’s a limited blessing.

I can’t wait for this place to be wiped clean and remodeled. I don’t know what it is to live in a world that works. I’ve seen better times than the present, but I have always been surrounded by death, disease, injury, deformity, murder, accidents, poverty, and every type of emotional pain. I have always lived in a world ruled by Satan’s children.

My patience with suffering is gone. A couple of years ago, it didn’t discourage me as much. Now, every time I see someone with a terrible physical problem, or I hear about a terrorist attack or a natural disaster or some other cause of suffering, I think, “I have HAD it with this. Please get us OUT.” Enough. I have seen enough.

A few people can be helped, but almost everyone will continue to suffer and fail. Most of the people we try to help will turn our help into curses. They won’t turn to God. Not really. They won’t pray in tongues. They won’t repent. They won’t be accountable. Things won’t get any better for them.

The blessed will stay blessed, and the people who hold onto them like Titanic survivors holding onto floating planks will continue to hold on. Nearly everyone who leads a cursed life will continue to be cursed.

People who lead cursed lives generally don’t want to know God. They want money. They think money will fix everything and they won’t have to repent. It’s frustrating, because continued abundance comes from a relationship with God. You tell them how to fix their lives, they pretend to agree, and they don’t change.

When someone listens, it’s like you’ve found a big gold nugget in a manure pile the size of an apartment building.

We don’t have enough money or time to buy better lives for the people who won’t repent. We have to watch nearly everyone sink. Elon Musk couldn’t fix them. Look at his son, the pervert.

I like to prophesy, but I keep hearing about how God is going to destroy people who are against his children. That means the vast majority of human beings. I would love to hear about revival and miracles.

The human race is just too crooked to help. We have always been that way. God is always ready to bless, but almost no one is interested.

Guess I’ll go pray and then think about dinner.

Full Price for Half the Show

I am waiting for my wife to get dressed, so I have a lot of time to kill. I think I’ll write about Rome.

Do not go to Rome.

Before we went to Rome, I tried to get advice on the best Italian city for a week’s stay. I figured the only real choices were Rome and Florence. Art, history, and so on.

People said Rome was the best choice, but they were completely wrong. The correct answer is Florence. I will explain.

Next year, Rome has a jubilee celebration. In preparation, they are cleaning things up. A lot of restoration is going on.

If you look at videos about Rome, you’ll see exciting shots of the altar at St. Peter’s, the Senate building, and various other sights. When you go to Rome, you see something very different: sights that have been fenced in or covered with fabric.

The altar is almost completely covered. The Pieta is a fake. The Senate is fenced off. A lot of things you could walk right up to a couple of years ago are off limits.

Don’t go. In fact, don’t go in 2025, either. It will be a madhouse. Everyone who sees the Pope the way teenage girls see Taylor Swift will be there. Believe it or not, there are a lot of people who take the pope and the Vatican seriously. They think the pope is super-holy and not just a cookie-cutter secular leftist who loves attention, and they think the Vatican is a holy place. They will pack Rome to the rooftops, and you don’t want to be there. It’s obscenely crowded right now, a year before the jubilee, so the jubilee will be a nightmare.

You want to go in 2026. Rome will experience a tourism dip because everyone on Earth went in 2025. It will be cheaper and less expensive, and the restored stuff will be accessible again.

Go in winter or early spring, or wait until late fall. You don’t need warm weather to enjoy Rome, and it draws tourists.

Here’s an interesting observation, from someone who has met God: the Vatican doesn’t feel like a church at all. There is no trace of God’s presence. You’re not going to feel awed by the holiness. You’ll feel like you’re in a crowded museum that makes lots of money.

Incidentally, the Catholics have decided forgiveness isn’t something you can get wherever you are, at any time. I learned this from my tour guide. There is some touristy thing or other in St. Peter’s, and the official belief has always been that if you walk by it or under it or something at a certain time–the jubilee year, I think–you get forgiveness for everything. St. Francis, generously, changed the rule. He decided you don’t have to go to the Vatican. You still have to get the time right, however, and you have to go to a church or something. I forget.

Apparently, the Catholics believe there are a bunch of sins God will not ordinarily forgive. No wonder ex-Catholics make the best and angriest atheists. They are recovering abuse victims.

Paul was a murderer of Christians. Moses was a murderer. David was a murderer who killed a man because he had gotten the man’s wife pregnant, and he led violent, thieving raids on towns. He had a man killed for throwing rocks at him. But a woman who got an abortion at 15 goes to hell unless she can walk through a certain door on a certain day.

It’s asinine. It’s sick. Yeshua will forgive you wherever you are, whenever you ask. He will forgive you for nearly anything. He saved a Roman centurion. Think of the things that man had done.

“Wrong day. Sorry. Come back next year.” Imagine Yeshua saying that. “Hope you’re still alive during the jubilee.”

Yeshua let people torture him to death because he was so driven to save sinners. He talked about his burning desire to reach the lost. But somehow he burns repentant Christians who can’t afford a ticket to Rome?

But this is the organization that decorated churches with naked statues, burned people over minor doctrinal disputes, and tortured Jews to death. It took the church until 1965 to stop holding the entire Jewish people responsible for killing Yeshua.

Everyone who has sinned is responsible for the crucifixion. This is obvious. The pope is responsible. Mary is responsible.

Yeshua visited me twice, and he never mentioned the pope or the catechism. He poured love through me and told me nothing bad could possibly happen to me while he was there. He annihilated worry and fear. He didn’t say, “It’s too bad you’re going to hell forever for rejecting the one true church.”

It’s a pretty safe bet that Yeshua has never met the pope.

I wish we had visited Florence. The art is much better. I don’t think they’re covering it up this year. But now I can say I’ve seen Rome. Whoo hoo.

Tennessee Looks Better and Better

Things are looking good, post-Helene. God took care of us. A tree fell over in my side yard, maybe 80 yards from the house. A smaller tree snapped about halfway up near the workshop, but it didn’t hit the building. We have a lot of leaves down.

There may be some trees down farther from the house. I haven’t checked yet. the lights went out for about 30 seconds, but they came back on. People here got very serious about tree-trimming after Irma, so power outages are not as common as they once were. I checked the power company’s site last night, and I saw a total of 14 outages on their map. That’s impressive.

My wife had a doctor’s appointment set for today, and they called and said they had no power. That was a surprise.

My big complaint is the upcoming weather. We expect a nasty, rainy week, so I’m not planning to do much about the debris right away. The general rule is that the weather gets noticeably better in October. Can’t wait.

The coast is a wreck. Not the entire west coast; just the areas where the surge was bad. It looks like the 20-foot surge that was predicted failed to materialize, to no one’s surprise, but I did see video of small houses floating around. I saw a lot of structures that are just plain ruined. I don’t know where people will go.

Sooner or later, coastal people will have to get serious about building for hurricanes. The people who own concrete houses on stilts don’t have much to be upset about today, but owners and occupants of frame houses situated on the ground have lost everything.

Everyone hates insurance companies, but insurance is a business, and it’s not realistic to expect insurers to offer good rates to people who know their homes will sustain catastrophic damage every 25 years or so.

I don’t know why coastal people got in the habit of building structures that weren’t ready for hurricanes. It’s bizarre. Everyone knows storms will come. Everyone knows how to build for them.

Another interesting phenomenon: rescuers were pulling people out of flooded areas late last night. Why were they still there? Two days ago, everyone knew these places would flood. Shelters were ready.

I saw a video of an airboat that had been removing people from an area where there was a Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard. I don’t understand ghetto people. They did the same thing in Louisiana when Katrina hit. Stayed right where they were.

Ghetto people have a culture of helplessness. Can’t work. Can’t get through high school. Can’t take care of their kids. Can’t stay out of prison. Can’t evacuate before storms. Can’t recover after storms.

Helping the poor is hard mainly because they respond so badly to help. They turn every blessing into a problem. They are used to being rewarded for failure, so they put their energy into failing.

My aunt was a principal in Eastern Kentucky. They used to test the kids for ADD. She found out parents were telling their kids to fail on purpose so they could get aid money. I wonder how those kids are doing today. Well, I don’t have to wonder. Everyone who could add two and two left, and now the place is full of drug addicts and professional thieves.

The failure culture is found everywhere people have gotten used to government handouts.

I don’t understand the people who left their cars in flood areas. It’s not that hard to drive a mile inland. Now they’re pedestrians, and if they replace their cars, they’ll have to pay the deductibles.

Coastals need to learn not to move into homes that can’t withstand storms. Even if you’re insured, you have to move out and throw out lots of your belongings. You probably won’t be compensated for everything, because you won’t have an inventory, and you won’t be paid replacement cost. Even if they overpay you, replacing your stuff will not be a simple matter. It will take a very long time, and many things won’t be available. While you’re living somewhere else, there’s a good chance looters will come in. It’s better to start off in a home that won’t flood or disintegrate.

Insurance isn’t God. It can make things better, but it’s no substitute for prevention.

If you look at the web, you’ll see people promoting the notion that hurricane-proof homes require magical new technology, or that they cost too much. Not true. My dad’s house down south was built in 1951, and it took about 170 mph without significant damage. There are concrete stilt houses all over the Keys, and they don’t all belong to tech billionaires. I put hurricane doors and windows in a house for under $20,000, which is not much compared to decades of insurance premiums.

Houses built for hurricanes cost more, but not that much more, and they save a fortune. It’s not unusual for a modest home to cost $700,000 today. Adding $50,000 to make it safe from storms is a reasonable expenditure.

Why don’t schools in coastal states teach kids these things? Too busy telling them Heather has two mommies and that chromosomes don’t matter.

My house is hurricane-proof, by local standards. It wouldn’t work in Cedar Key a hundred yards from the Gulf, but it will take anything a hurricane can dish out in my area. It would take a tornado to take it out. I felt pretty good when I heard a storm was coming, because I knew the odds of a serious problem were extremely low.

If I had just moved in without thinking, I could be in a flood plain right now.

Later on, I’ll look around and see if any other trees need to be cleaned up. I already know I won’t have to file any claims.

Number One on the List of Stuff for the Messiah to Tear Down

Having returned from Europe, I put up a blog post, and reader Juan Paxety posted a comment about the Arch of Titus. As it happens, this landmark is one of the sights I really wanted to see while visiting Rome. It stands in the forum.

The arch of Titus is a “triumphal arch,” and that means it was built to be used in a triumph. A triumph was a huge victory celebration, and during these celebrations, parades would pass through triumphal arches. I don’t know if all arches were used for parades, and for all I know, there were parades that bypassed arches. I’m writing in generalities.

Titus was the vile pagan who sacked Jerusalem in 70 A.D. He destroyed the temple and took all the gold to Rome. According to Juan, the wealth from the temple was used to build the Colosseum.

The arch was built by his brother Domitian, who was known for tormenting and massacring Christians. Domitian is the idiot who deep-fried John for the amusement of the peasants. Sadly for him, John was not harmed, and the miracle is said to have lead to many conversions. That’s the story, anyway. We know John lived to be very old, and he wrote the Revelation while exiled to Patmos.

The claim about the financing of the Colosseum made so much sense to me, I had to look it up. History is full of fake facts that tie things together very nicely, so you have to be careful. Turns out Juan is right.

The story made sense to me for a very important reason: it was consistent with a supernatural theme that has been with us for millennia: the conflict between worship of the one true God and Hellenism, which is the global system of the spirit of Antichrist, better known as Satan.

The word “Hellenism” more or less refers to Greek customs and beliefs, but to me, it means the Satanic political and social apparatus, in totality. After all, the system we live with now is just a continuation of the Greek system, which was inspired by the Egyptians and stolen by the Romans.

Rome never went away. All over the Western world, it’s still with us. Greco-Roman architecture. Representative government. The mile. We even salute the Roman eagle. We use it. The Nazis used it. Lots of other nations use it. The Nazis called themselves the Third Reich, meaning a continuation of the Holy Roman Empire, which was descended, obviously, from the empire that was based in Rome and then Istanbul.

We still live in Rome, which means we still live in Alexander’s empire.

Hellenism was a big problem for the ancient Jews. The Greeks took over Israel, and they had something resembling our country club system. In the US, if you want to succeed, it can be very helpful to join a golf club and play golf, even if you hate it. Deals and connections are made on courses and in locker rooms. In the Greek world, they had the gymnasium instead.

Greek males (only) competed in sports before adoring crowds. They competed naked. After all, they were perverts. The word “gymnasium” literally means something like “place of nudity.”

Ambitious Jews under the Greeks needed to fit in, so they competed, too. They sinned against God, removing their clothing and making fools of themselves in exchange for social credit. In doing so, they exposed their circumcisions, which they came to see as barriers to acceptance. Instead of doing the right thing, many stopped circumcising their sons, and some resorted to primitive medical procedures intended to make them look as though they had not been circumcised.

Circumcision was very important to God. The Jews had a contract with God, and circumcision was the only way to sign it. No circumcision, no contract. An uncircumcised Jew was not really part of the Jewish people. They must have gone to hell, because salvation was part of the covenant.

Jews caught up in Hellenism celebrated nudity, perversion, pride, greed, and pantheism. They celebrated the fleeting and puny strength of the flesh instead of the lasting help of God.

Hellenism is one of the many reasons Catholicism is worthless and corrupt. Instead of teaching people to love the Holy Spirit, the ancient church held onto the Greeks they revered. You can see this in the stupid books people like Augustine wrote. They held onto pagans like Aristotle and Plato. They clung to pagan art. This is why the Sistine Chapel is full of paintings of hairless nude men waving their penises around.

We are so used to nudity in art, we think nothing of seeing it in churches. How do you think Yeshua feels about it? If he came down today and told you to build and decorate a church, do you think he would be happy if you said you wanted to include 40 paintings of men’s penises?

I saw the chapel last week. I thought it was ridiculous. The quality of the art is not the issue. The issue is the ridiculous notion that it’s okay to fill the walls and ceiling of a church with completely gratuitous nudity.

I get it. Michelangelo thought we would all be naked at the judgment. The Bible doesn’t actually say that. The judgment isn’t going to look like a parade in West Hollywood.

The Colosseum was a triumphal monument to Hellenism. It was Satan’s way of saying, “We won.” The temple was gone. Israel was gone. The church was dispersed. The treasure was in Rome. Time to build a huge outdoor theater devoted to cruelty and murder. A place to celebrate the flesh and honor the false gods. Satan made the Jews pay for it.

Jerusalem was God’s capital. Rome was Satan’s. It was that simple.

Jews don’t like Titus much, and they don’t like the arch. Sculpted into it are depictions of happy Romans carrying the treasures of the temple into Rome, including the lampstand that stood in the Holy of Holies. Pope Paul IV made Jewish leaders go to the arch every year to kiss his feet and swear loyalty. No wonder Jews hate Catholicism nearly as much as former Catholics.

The arch may have been designed by the same man who designed the Colosseum.

Today, we live in a country dotted with colosseums. They are patterned after the architecture of the Colosseum in Rome. We neglect God, our families, and our children to pump money to functional illiterates who run fast for a few years and then go bankrupt and spend the rest of their lives wobbling around on shattered knees, coping with CTE.

A proper Christian invests in eternal things. An idiot invests in things that are soon destroyed. We are a culture of idiots, and that includes every “Christian” who tells children Yeshua loves competitive sports.

We treat athletes with reverence, as though they were making sacrifices for us. Like they were little Yeshuas.

They’re selfish. They’re rich. They are often brutal and violent. Many are too dumb to do their own work in college, even in simpleton majors like English and Public Recreation. They do nothing whatsoever for us at work, they take as much as they can, and we pay for their sweaty jerseys and dirty pants and hang them in our houses. If an athlete with an IQ of 90, and 10 illegitimate children he ignores, touches something, we treat it like a holy relic that cures cancer.

It makes perfect sense that Titus, a son of Satan if ever there was one, would loot the temple and use the wealth to build a stadium used to placate and control the masses. Nothing has changed.

A 50th-percentile dog entering middle age, leading a sedentary life, could run circles (literally) around any athlete who ever lived. No marathon runner could hope to win a race with a dog in good condition. A scared cat has a vertical leap of 8 feet, which no athlete will ever approach. What are we so excited about?

The world is disgusting. As bad as we are, we are now being replaced by generations of people who are even worse. They are soft. They are inept. They love cruelty. They can’t understand why anyone thinks the truth is important. They worship themselves. They live for Internet likes. They think the people who built the world they live in are morons.

They will make things worse. They already are. They are openly calling for the murder of the entire nation of Israel, and they can’t see anything wrong with it.

God needs to wrap things up. This place is finished. There is no reaching these people.

Frightened Critics Torch Movie to Protect the Revolution

I am editing photos from our trip to Switzerland and Italy. It’s a real challenge. In the past, my cameras shot JPG files, and after that, I adjusted them to some degree (or not), and that was that. Now I am shooting raw files, and I have to use a program to make them look nice.

My knowledge of digital photography is weak, but if I understand things correctly, a JPG is an edited photo. If your camera shoots JPG’s, it’s editing them before storing them, based on some set of parameters nerds put in there. The photo you end up with doesn’t contain all the data your sensor picked up, because the camera discards it to save space. A JPG is pre-edited to look pretty good, and it usually works.

A raw file is whatever your camera picks up, whether it looks good or not. Your job is to take the file and mess with it until you like it. Because the file is raw, there is a lot more to work with, so you can make much larger adjustments without ruining the shot.

Correct me if I’m wrong.

I’m sitting here being disappointed over and over in the shots I took, because a lot of them look horrid when I open them. But they do clean up well, in many cases.

Editing is slow because I am not used to Photoshop. It’s not like my old copy of Photoshop Elements, which was very easy to use right from the start.

I’ll post a couple of shots. Not life-changing, but good enough to prove we went somewhere.

I’m taking a break right now because I hate Photoshop.

I’m thinking about a movie I saw during the trip. I rarely watch movies because Hollywood is an abcess and I think God does not like fiction, but when you are stuck in a tiny hotel room with covid, and you have three woke-country TV channels in English (they all seem exactly the same), you will be tempted to expand your options.

Somehow I came across a Youtube clip of a film about demonic possession. I don’t like entertainment about the occult, but I found the clip compelling, and my wife wanted to see the movie, so we watched the entire film. Maybe this was hypocritical. Not sure. You have to be careful with bright lines.

The movie is called Nefarious, and it’s about a serial killer who is about to be executed. A psychiatrist is engaged to determine whether he’s sane enough to kill, and the psychiatrist commits suicide. A doctor the psychiatrist mentored replaces him, and the movie consists mostly of his interview with the murderer.

The murderer says he is completely possessed. He rarely speaks as his human self. He says his name is “Nefariamus,” and he tells the second doctor that he, the doctor, will become famous for writing a new book: the dark gospel.

The doctor is an atheist, so you can imagine how impressed he is at first.

The demon tells the doctor all about Satan’s kingdom and the things Satan’s spirit cronies have done to destroy the world. Abortion, every type of immorality Hollywood loves…you name it. He explains why evil spirits hate God and how this hatred is the foundation of their unprovoked cruelty to human beings. It’s really something to hear. It’s pretty accurate.

Most Christian movies are bad or mediocre, but this one features top-notch acting and dialogue. It’s low budget for sure. Almost all of it takes place in one room. But Sean Patrick Flanery, the actor who played the killer, was nothing short of spellbinding. Everyone enjoys a clever, superhuman film villain, and I thought this guy was better than Anthony Hopkins.

The movie has its flaws. Not all of the actors are great, and there were things that could have been improved, but it was very good. Certainly better than much of the garbage that brings people major awards these days. Like I always say, Cher and Marisa Tomei got Oscars.

Those awards seemed remarkable to me, because I did not yet live in a world where a huge man in ladies’ underwear could win a prize for giving a girl brain damage in a volleyball match.

Having seen Nefarious, I wondered why I had never heard of it before.

Of course, the obvious occurred to me. We live in a world where Barack Obama was given a Nobel Peace Prize for winning an election, but Donald Trump, a man known for spreading peace, was ignored after putting the Abraham Accords together. Maybe the critics had killed the movie because it honored God and exposed their industry’s patron spirits.

Well, here is a screenshot for you.

That’s from Rotten Tomatoes, the famous site where critics and actually human beings review films side by side. In case you don’t know, the critics say movies are “fresh” or “rotten,” and actual human beings use a star system. The rating generated by human beings is called the Popcornmeter.

This movie has 21 critic reviews and over a thousand reviews from real movie watchers. Look at the difference. The critics say 33%, which is abysmal, but the audience says 96%, which is about as good as a movie can do.

Wonder why there is such a difference. Hmm.

Let’s quote some critics.

Nefarious has been inaccurately described as a horror movie. It’s a poorly made psychological drama about a death row inmate, with no real scares and too much over-acting. As this dull movie drones on, it becomes preachy propaganda for right-wing beliefs.

I like that one, because that critic really dropped her pants for us. She admits leftists think Christianity is “right-wing.” How long have I been saying leftists hate conservatives because conservatives are associated with Christianity? I doubt she even thought about the way she was exposing herself. There is virtually no political material in the film, but it’s full of religious matter, and that’s what set her off.

As for “preachy propaganda,” wow…should I sit here and try to list all the leftist propaganda films critics have loved? I’d be here for days.

Nefarious advertises itself as a possession thriller but pulls a bait & switch to deliver a Christian and Conservative propaganda piece. Flanery does his best to elevate what is otherwise a 90 minute sermon on abortion, euthanasia, and the death penalty.

If you like your demons on the preachy side, then you may enjoy [this movie]. The rest of us will find [it]…tedious, heavy-handed and indoctrinating.

The film’s heavy-handed and bogus message tells us that Hollywood is immoral because it acts to corrupt its viewer’s minds.

The only thing not covered in this Christo-fascist manifesto of a movie is “guns.”

While there are moments of intensity in Nefarious, there isn’t a moment in the film that feels like cinematic horror unless you’re talking about one of those evangelical haunted houses where demons pop out of the walls to warn of the evils of the world.

Nefarious builds to a howler of a climax that delivers exactly what you’d anticipate from the makers of God’s Not Dead, just in an even more preposterous way. The big scene would be perfect for an Airplane!-style spoof of evangelical-themed films.

Subtlety is not the film’s strong point. Neither is casting.

That’s idiotic. Do critics pan other movies for not being subtle? Not if they push the left’s agenda. And the two central characters in this film did great jobs. It has been years since I’ve seen a performance as good as Flanery’s.

They filmmakers cast Glenn Beck as himself, interviewing the psychiatrist a year after the execution. That was a mistake. For one thing, Beck is not a Christian. For another, he looked like Johnny Depp dressed him. A creepy chin beard and bunch of old-looking and seemingly-unrelated clothes piled on top of each other, as though he found them in a Salvation Army box. And his performance was bad. It was very odd. He leaned toward the psychiatrist and maintained an expression I would ordinarily associate with strong sexual arousal, as though he were talking to an Onlyfans model after a long period of solitary confinement. His lower lip hung loose and swung as though trying to wave at the other actor.

Beck should not have been cast in this or any other movie, but the two leads were excellent.

I don’t know how Beck got in there. Did Mormons back the movie? They are a real problem for ignorant people who think Mormons are Christians. I wonder if Beck invested in the film on the condition they include him.

I have never been a Beck fan. Not for 10 seconds. He’s a kook.

I still remember the nutty video he did, in which he claimed he was nearly killed by a hemorrhoid laser. Try and imagine a scenario in which that is even possible. No, don’t.

By the way, The Passion of the Christ got a whopping 49% from leftist critics at Rotten Tomatoes.

Not subtle enough for them, I guess.

I don’t know if you should see Nefarious or not. Just telling you what I thought about it. But I can confidently say that if you still don’t think Satan controls Hollywood, you need to snap out of it.

The Internet is Really Something

I just got the weirdest comment. It’s pretty long. Some guy or gal responded to my last post about the way my family has deteriorated. I haven’t published the comment yet. Maybe I will. It went to my trash folder automatically because it had a racial slur in it. This person quotes me using the right angle character, so anything you see right after that is me.

Some highlights:

>My sister was sick and sadistic. My mother was always unhappy

And you’re a psychotic liar.

It only gets weirder from there.

>With the exception of my strange Uncle John, who was cruel to me for no reason

= you did something to him, you know perfectly well what it is, and you don’t want to admit it. Whenever anyone says “and then they did this horrible thing FOR NO REASON” there’s always a reason. You, particularly, have made a habit of doing this, and of doing it in cases where the other side can be verified because it is online and visible.

Wow! John really was not a good guy. He divorced his wife and left her in poverty, after destroying what should have been a profitable car dealership. He could not control his addiction to alcohol, and he refused to use the time-tested, fill-in-the-blanks GMAC accounting system. My dad said he sold cars and never did the bookkeeping, so he had no idea what was going in or going out. He would buy cars from GM and sell them at auction for less than he paid, to raise cash.

It was bad. My grandfather pumped money into the business for a while, but he eventually quit. He called his other sons-in-law together and asked what they wanted to do, because it was affecting their children’s inheritance.

She had to go on welfare and live in a trailer while she got a teaching degree. John taught their youngest son to call her dirty names while she was struggling. He taught him to call the trailer a tin can. I don’t know if my cousin ever really recovered from the guilt. He eventually became an extremely devoted son. John also stole things in front of him and joked about it. I saw him go into an Arby’s, wrap both hands around the sauce bottles, and take them, like he was scooping up a big poker pot.

After he left Kentucky, he got a job teaching auto shop at a high school. He used to send my cousin stolen tools stamped “Property Of.”

I saw him hit his other son in the back, very hard, with a large screwdriver because he said something about a haircut his dad was giving him. Neither of us saw it coming. Just BANG! No sign he was mad until he struck. I froze, hoping I wasn’t next, and my cousin started crying from the pain.

That’s how John was. One second, things were fine, and the next second, he would explode for no reason. If my cousin had had any idea what was going to happen, he wouldn’t have said anything, but there is no way to predict what an abuser will do. I don’t think John was good to anyone.

I would guess I was 10 when my aunt divorced him and he exited my life. I suppose a really bad kid that age or younger could do mean things to a strong, tall man in the prime of life if he were really good. Not me. I was scared of him. I hated being in the room with him.

I remember him blocking my grandfather’s driveway with his car, drunk, crying, and pitying himself loudly about something or other related to the divorce. I guess I was about 10. My dad had to go out and get him to leave. Everyone was afraid he would try to come in the house. It was a very disturbing spectacle for a child to watch. When you’re a kid, you expect your elders not to act insane.

He did the strangest things. I recall him taking his sons and me to a drive-in restaurant, and we had burgers and fries. I sat in the back seat. After a while, he asked his sons if they wanted more fries. Then he reached over the seat into my box of food, grabbed all of my fries in his hand, ketchup and all, and dumped them in his son’s boxes. Like I wasn’t there. Didn’t say a word to me.

My mother would have lost her mind if she had seen that. I guess he was nicer to me when she was around, and that would explain why she never set him straight. She later came to believe he hated me because my grandfather loved me so much. He gave his eldest son my grandfather’s middle name, and my mother’s impression was that he wanted his son to be the son my grandfather never had.

I was too young to see and remember all that. I was told John used to practically throw his son at my grandfather, in an obvious and off-putting way.

I remember him unlocking the bathroom door while I was sitting on the toilet. No reason. He opened the door wide, took a good long look, and then closed it. He may have said something nasty about me being in there too long. I can’t recall. But it was a deliberate humiliation. I never heard anything about him being sexually perverted, so I don’t think that’s what it was about.

He was nice to my sister. The theory I heard is that as a girl, she couldn’t be a rival to his son, so she wasn’t a threat. I do remember this, though: she had a piggy bank containing silver dollars, and he broke into it while the adults were playing poker. I don’t recall whether he stole anything or not.

The one time I saw him after I grew up, he was respectful and polite, and I saw no trace of hostility, so maybe he was cowardly around adults. Instead of dealing with the trashy dealership employees who stole car parts and sold them, helping ruin him, he cried about them to my dad. I mean he literally cried and said he couldn’t understand why they were so mean. Perhaps he was one way with kids and another way with people who could fight back.

I wonder what his students went through. When I was at Miami Country Day School, a teacher named Jack Bubrick told me he was going to break my arm if I reached for a pencil to use on a quiz, and he said he didn’t care who my dad was. Out of nowhere. I was in the 7th grade. I wonder if John’s students have stories like that. But as high school students they would have been pretty big, so they might have been intimidating.

John is not online except possibly at Find a Grave.

I wrote about one of my aunts flipping out and excoriating me, and I got this:

>The last time she talked to me, she was furious.

Yeah, this is an interesting account. It’s very clear you’re leaving out about half of it, and particularly any of the context that might have led up to this interaction. People don’t talk that way out of the blue for no reason. It builds. You know it. You are lying about it, because you know you did things that caused her to be angry at you, and you can’t bring yourself to face your own flaws. You would much rather pretend to face imaginary flaws that don’t really bother you because you don’t really have them.

How about that? Hard to say what might have inspired it.

Here’s a really good one:

>He defended 11 people charged with murder and got 10 off completely.

You’re bragging about your father helping murderers escape punishment. You are choosing to brag about this. You think this is a good thing. There is no obligation for any lawyer to take a case. This is particularly clear in child porn cases: the lawyers won’t take them, because they find defending such individuals immoral. Your father was totally free to decide that defending a murderer was immoral. He didn’t. You’re proud of that.

The theory seems to be that if you’re accused of murder, you’re guilty, and you shouldn’t get a trial. Just a plastic bag over the head. And guilty people have no rights.

It would be silly to spend time explaining how wacky that is.

I think this is the most spectacular one:

>Now if I want a blood family, I’ll have to start one, in my old age.

Your kids will be niggers, on a continent where the nigger population is systematically alienating the civilized people as hard and as thoroughly as they can. You have taken what gifts there are in your bloodline and thrown them into a sewer. I would be angry about this if there was any indication you were trying to redeem any of your failings.

Criticism really hurts when 1) it’s true, 2) it’s expressed in a dignified and rational manner, and 3) it comes from someone you respect.

My bloodline is a mess. Mental illness on both sides. Addictions. Wife-beating. Adultery. Lying. Psychopathy. Obesity. Smart people, for sure, but my wife is as smart as they are.

The idea that white Europeans have magical genes is supported poorly, given our barbaric history. White people killed about a third of the Jews for no reason, in the modern age, when they had no excuse. And evidence suggests that Far Eastern Asians and Ashkenazi Jews are at the top of the intelligence heap. Over 40% of incoming MIT students are Asian, in a country where people descended from Europeans still hold a slim majority.

I would like to live in a country of Spirit-led Christians. Race immaterial.

Anyway, I thought I would share this with my readers. Interesting stuff.

Temptation Reveals Character

I was thinking last night about my mother’s family and how sad it is that some of us decided to trade priceless relationships for money.

I really do mean “sad.” People use the word in a snotty way, to lash out at others. “It’s so sad you think eating meat is cool.” “It’s so sad you have white fragility.” I’m using the word in its proper sense. We lost something of tremendous value, and we will never get it back. I miss the relationships we used to have.

When I was a kid, I lived in a miserable home. My dad drank and chased women. He strangled my mother twice in front of me. He beat her for things like failing to match his socks. My mother, my sister and I were afraid of him. I had a repeating nightmare in which he cut them up and they talked to me while they were dying. We looked forward to his business trips because when he was gone, we had more peace.

My sister was sick and sadistic. My mother was always unhappy. My dad and my sister both abused her. I was not much of a son. I was irresponsible, afraid of people, and unsuccessful. She loved me deeply, which is not surprising, but she was also proud of me, which made no sense.

I loved going to visit my mother’s parents. They had a big custom-built home on a hill with three spare bedrooms plus a basement room and a sewing and gun room that could be used for guests. We visited in both summer and winter.

When Christmas, came, the families of all 4 daughters gathered at the house. The families that didn’t live nearby stayed there. It was wonderful. I treasure the memories.

My branch of the family drove up from Florida, where the air was hot and never smelled quite clean. I remember how things changed when we got to Kentucky. The air was crisp and cold and smelled like coal smoke. If we were lucky, we also smelled snow.

The house would be full of homemade cookies and things like stack cake and fried apple pies. Sometimes there would be a crate of oranges in the foyer. By the time we got there, the tree and decorations were always up, and the house smelled like pine needles.

With the exception of my strange Uncle John, who was cruel to me for no reason, and who was never held accountable by my parents, I looked forward to seeing everyone. When I heard the door to the carport open, it made me happy, because I knew another bunch had finally arrived.

We opened presents on Christmas Eve, which was a mistake, and we generally got in a couple of days of playing with things like race car sets.

I liked all of my aunts. At different times of my life, each one was my favorite. I liked two of my uncles.

In the summers, I got to work on my grandfather’s farms, and he would often put me in his car or truck and take me to one. He let me run his tractor. When I was small, he would set me on the right fender, and I would sit on it while he ran it. Sometimes he would stand on the floorboard to my right and coach me while I steered.

I remember him taking me on a long hike on a farm that bordered the Red River Gorge. He showed me an old moonshining camp by a little branch. He dug up some old bottles and gave them to me, and I cleaned them up. Of course, someone took them from his house later, along with a remarkable chunk of solid mica I found in the Chattooga River in North Carolina, below Potholes Falls.

Sometimes we shot, or shot at, rabbits. Sometimes he would take me to a local restaurant, and after he sat down, a big group of people who knew him would pull up chairs and make the place crowded. To me, he seemed like a king. The boss of three counties.

He was actually a corrupt politician, and he made a lot of money suing insurance companies in front of mountain juries, but I didn’t know those things.

Corruption was considered cute up there. Still is, I suppose.

I used to walk up the road to his brother’s house, and we would sit in his carport and trade pocket knives. I still have one I got from him. He was like an extra grandfather.

All that is behind me now. Two aunts are still alive. My mother is dead. All three uncles are dead. My dad and my grandparents are dead. Estate preparation was poor. There has been division. People have taken advantage.

I still get along with one aunt. The other is in charge of the interminable distribution of my grandparents’ wealth. My grandfather died in 1994, my grandmother died in 2003, and my aunt still resists selling land and closing up the estates. Things will probably wrap up very quickly when she dies, unless the family puts her unsuccessful nonagenarian second husband–not a blood relative or heir–in charge.

I trust God to compensate me for anything I lose, I don’t need money, my life is very peaceful, and my mother always told me not to get into a certain kind of fight with a skunk, so I don’t push things.

The last time she talked to me, she was furious. I told her she needed to sell everything, and I said she had never given any of us a monthly or yearly statement. I asked why she bothered me about prospective land deals. I said she was going to do whatever she wanted anyway. She said, “That’s right!”, without a trace of shame or any concern about civil or criminal liability.

She blurted out, “I HAVE MORE THAN YOU.” She wanted me to know she had more real estate than I did, as though that justified mishandling things. She told me I was trying to get money because I was poor. She started bragging about her kids and grandchildren, and she said all I had was “maybe a sorry dog.”

Very weird. At the time, as now, I was married to a wonderful woman, and I had a parrot. I don’t have a dog. I have no idea whether she has more real estate than I do. God bless her if she does. I don’t claim to be rich. All I know is that I have a wonderful home from which my wife and I have made a lot of foreign trips, all of which were paid for without borrowing. I have no debt.

All of my property is in areas where values have gone insane, very much unlike prices in Eastern Kentucky, so I am grateful for the way things have worked out. I don’t know if I could take the stress of working a real job in a world that has given itself over completely to Satan.

She said I had sponged off others all my life. I did sponge pretty badly in my twenties while I was trying to make it as a writer, and it’s true that I lived with my dad after law school, but that was a choice, and I paid my own way. I worked when I was in law school, I had inherited money from my mother, and I paid half of my tuition from stock market trades.

Our relationship improved tremendously when I was in law school, and afterward, although I was working, I thought a lot about joint families and the way families worked in the Bible. I felt God wanted me to stay. I started thinking the nuclear family was overrated and that it was better to be around older generations. As it turned out, that was correct.

It was strange to hear her sputtering at me in anger. Others had told me about her cursing them out, but I had never seen it. I don’t know how much of it is dementia. Age has a way of exposing people, though.

As personal representative of the estates, she hired her son to do legal work my dad and I offered to do for nothing. In my opinion, her son is not a real lawyer. He’s intelligent enough to practice, but he ended up at the second-worst law school in the US. I guess my aunt’s connections could not get him into the University of Kentucky, but I don’t know. I can’t imagine going to a horrible law school far away when you can go to a better one nearby and pay in-state tuition.

I won’t toot my own horn, but my dad was third in his class, and he made a living beating Ivy League lawyers in federal court. He defended 11 people charged with murder and got 10 off completely. I will say that I kept up with him.

The estates’ legal affairs turned out very badly, but my cousin got paid a lot. He did some shocking things, and his representation seemed completely inept to me. I called him on it, and he was rude and nasty to me. But I didn’t feel God wanted me to file a bar complaint or sue.

These are people I used to love seeing. It’s hard to believe it ended up like this. I thought we would have loving relationships as long as we lived.

I have never done them wrong. I never stole a penny or a paper clip from the estates, but I have been told things were taken by others. I always said I would not charge for helping, but others got paid. Now here we are. My aunt is slowly dying, her husband is in similar shape, and I suppose it would be awkward if I attended their funerals. Not that I plan to return to Eastern Kentucky for any reason. If my other aunt is living there when she dies, I’ll go, but that’s about it. I am going to avoid the whole area as well as I can. It’s a trashy, cursed place full of people who never grow up. A white ghetto.

My wife and I just got back from North Carolina and Tennessee. So different. The houses and businesses were well-kept. We didn’t see a single discarded school bus in a yard; this is a popular Eastern Kentucky decoration. We didn’t see old cars and refrigerators that had been dumped in creeks. The people were much nicer than people in Eastern Kentucky. You don’t have to be white trash to be from Appalachia.

I wish I could go back in time and tell my grandparents about the future of their descendants. Maybe we would still have a family. They could have done something to lock everything up so no one could end up controlling and taking advantage of the others Good fences make good neighbors.

I thought our family, dysfunctional though it was, was great. I thought we had such warmth. We seemed privileged. An illusion. I saw a veneer. Now if I want a blood family, I’ll have to start one, in my old age. And of course, my Spirit-filled friends are my family. God has given me excellent friends and godchildren.

Speaking of dysfunction, I had a startling revelation last night. I realized my wife and I were not dysfunctional. It came home to me, how strange it was to be all right. Most people are dysfunctional.

Out of 8 grandchildren, I think two may have families that are reasonably free of dysfunction. The rest are a mess. Can’t say I’m sure about the other two. I don’t hear from them. Maybe that means things are going well. My suspicion is that one or both deliberately limit contact with the rest of us in order to protect their peace, but I don’t know. Maybe they just outgrew the family.

I don’t beat my wife. I don’t drink much. We don’t take drugs. We don’t argue. I have no interest in other women. She doesn’t sit by herself and contemplate her existence, thinking about how disappointing it is and what a letdown her husband is. We love each other’s company. We treat each other well.

We have long prayer sessions every day. No one has to be coerced. We both want it.

She didn’t marry me hoping to turn me into a status symbol and money fountain. I didn’t marry her hoping for a perfect sex object that never aged. We don’t think about other people’s opinions of us. We don’t social-climb. We won’t be buying cars we think will impress people. Right now, I’m investing a ton in my old Dodge Cummins so I can drive it until I die.

We don’t go on Facebook and try to convince people who know better that we are Prince Rainier and Princess Grace, living in a fantasy world of blissful marital dreams come true. That’s a common affliction. We are not trying to impress people to make them feel inferior; especially people we don’t respect.

I don’t have to worry about cleaning the house myself or doing laundry because my wife is a slob. She doesn’t have to call tradesmen because I’m too sorry to have repairs made.

I don’t wonder if my newborn son should have a DNA test. I will never try to convince people he’s the next Mozart or Newton because I feel bad about myself or him. He will never have to tell people I lied about him or that he’s not what I held him out to be.

I don’t know how smart or talented he will be, but I know he will have a dedicated father who teaches him about the Holy Spirit and passes on as much wisdom as possible.

We don’t have any mental disorders. I was depressed pretty much continuously until I was 30, but it’s gone, and I feel better every year. We’re not neurotic. We don’t have delusions.

It’s so strange, knowing we’re not dysfunctional. I’m used to thinking of myself as dysfunctional, because I was, and I think of dysfunction as normal, because it is. It’s hard for me to think of acquaintances who aren’t dysfunctional.

Childishness is a big problem everywhere, but it’s SOP in Eastern Kentucky. People hold grudges and maintain feuds. I’m sure a lot of them go to hell for it. If the members of a family can learn to be accountable adults, they can spare themselves a lot of unnecessary suffering. A long time ago, I realized I had never seen two people who were not jerks divorce. Not once. At least one person was always a problem. The same thing is true in all relationships.

Prayer in tongues repairs hearts and minds. It also keeps husbands and wives aligned with each other. It aligns you with God, and if you’re aligned with him, it’s not possible to be out of alignment with each other. You can have little speed bumps, but you’re not going to throw plates at each other or hire attorneys.

We both come from dysfunctional homes, but God repaired us and continues to repair us. If we stop doing what he has taught us to do, we’ll be as dysfunctional as anyone.

It would be great if everyone in the family were praying in tongues. I don’t see anything like that happening in the future. Old people are hard to save. I have one cousin who, like me, is recovering. By the grace of God.

I wish the family had not turned out this way. It would have been wonderful if we had continued to be close. The worst thing about succeeding is watching people you care about continue to peel off and fail.

Ultimately, Puppets are Disposable

Provocation is a type of temptation. God told me that. I try to avoid getting angry with people now, but they are really good at provocation, so I do fail often.

Today I have a story about the son of a friend of mine. He’s a professional musician. He married a far-left vegan. She’s part black. Her mother abandoned her and her twin sister, and she was adopted by a white family. She was raised among white people. When she went to college, she was among blacks for the first time, and she complained that they scared her. Nonetheless, she has become a fervent race warrior, and her husband supports her. He told his dad he was terrified that cops in their sleepy New England area would pull her over and murder her.

Now she criticizes the white parents who rescued her.

The son and the wife are against Israel, naturally. My friend recently had a conversation with him, trying to debunk the antisemitic myths he spouted. He criticized Hamas to his son, pointing out that they took hostages and were still holding them.

His son defended Hamas, saying the hostages were the only weapons the Palestinians had.

My friend was pretty angry about this, understandably. I am angry at his son, too. He’s in his thirties. He’s a father. He has been to college. There is no excuse for his dangerous, hate-based bigotry.

Hostages have been tortured and killed. Palestinians have raped them over and over. One woman was raped anally until she bled a great deal, and after she was kidnapped, Palestinian freedom fighters cut her Achilles tendons so she couldn’t run away.

How can anyone say the kidnapping, torture, mutilation, and rape of Jews are justified? The man who defended Hamas has a wife and two daughters, and that makes it worse.

Let’s pretend Israel really is an occupying colonialist power. That wouldn’t justify rape and mutilation. If America is invaded, will you say it’s okay for us to kidnap, rape and mutilate enemy aliens?

The idea that Hamas needs this “weapon” is insane. Hamas has Iran backing it.

Atrocities will happen in any war, on both sides, but Hamas and its huge majority of Palestinian supporters perform atrocities daily, as standard operating procedure. The Jews do not promote or accept atrocities against their enemies. When Israelis commit atrocities, they are rare anomalies, and the guilty are punished. To Hamas, a person who commits atrocities is a hero.

I’m also not happy with Candace Owens, the self-promoting black conservative commentator who says she was raised to be a liberal and ended up having an awakening. Owens has turned out to be an antisemitic mental case. She started calling Israel, where Arabs can run for the office of prime minister, an apartheid state. Now she is claiming “Zionists” have a practice of murdering Christians over Passover.

The classic blood libel says Jews put sacrificed Christians and also put Christian blood in matzohs.

Some used the term “blood libel” to describe the belief that Jews caused the crucifixion of Yeshua, but this is a historical fact. Jews were not allowed to execute people, so they took Yeshua to the Romans, who determined that he was not guilty of any crime. They pushed Pontius Pilate to have him killed anyway, so they bear responsibility. On the other hand, Yeshua was and still is a Jew, he consented to the sacrifice, and all of his followers–people who are called saints today–were Jews. And the sacrificed was a good thing, because without it, there would be no way to avoid hell or the lake of fire.

Additionally, every Christian who accepts salvation takes responsibility for the crucifixion. You can’t benefit from a sacrifice unless you own it. So the whole business of calling Jews Christ-killers is ridiculous. It’s an excuse you gave yourself in order to enable yourself to go forward with your sick, irrational, preexisting hatred of Jews.

We are all Christ-killers.

Owens now claims a famous miscarriage of justice was actually justice itself.

In 1913, during Passover, a Jewish factory owner named Leo Frank was charged (along with some others) with the murder of an employee, Mary Phagan. There was evidence that she was also raped. The forensics were primitive, exculpatory evidence was apparently overlooked, and it is generally accepted that Frank had nothing to do with the crime. Nonetheless, he was convicted and sentenced to death. When his sentence was commuted to life, enraged locals stole him from prison and lynched him. He was pardoned posthumously in 1986, and no one has been charged with his murder, which was unquestionably a crime.

Somehow, a jury agreed that a wealthy Cornell-educated Jew raped and murdered a girl and then left her body to be found in the basement of his own business. He was smart enough to get through Cornell and build a big business, but it didn’t occur to him to hide the evidence of a capital crime.

Owens now states as fact that Frank raped and murdered innocent little Catholic Mary Phagan.

She also makes the weird claim that she condemns “Frankists,” not Jews as a whole.

I had to look Frankism up. It has nothing to do with Leo Frank. It was a cult led by a nut named Jacob Frank. He encouraged other Jews to violate Jewish law in order to become more like God. He practiced and encouraged ritual incest, for example. His cult is believed to have died out during the 19th century, and it was never a big deal.

I have not been able to uncover Owens’ argument for the continued existence of Frankists or the continuing murders of Christians by Frankists. If you can find any evidence that Frankists murdered Christians, you’re a better Googler than I.

Let’s be honest. Jews are human beings, and of course, there are bigots among them. I have heard more than one Jew use the N word.

There are plenty of Jews who hate gentiles. They do exist. I remember getting to know a man named Stan Cohen; he was elderly when I met him, and he is surely dead now. He was a Messianic. He told me some of his testimony. He said that when he was young, he really, really hated gentiles. Passionately. He changed when he accepted Yeshua. He can’t be the only gentile-hater who ever lived.

While there are surely many gentile-hating Jews in absolute numbers, in percentage terms, they are probably rare. I have known many Jews, I spent 4 months in Israel, I am a reasonably aware person who reads the news, and I just have not seen evidence of a widespread problem of anti-gentile sentiment.

The idea that there are a lot of Jews out there who hate Christians enough to sacrifice us is preposterous. And where are the bodies? Where are the convicted murderers? We’re in the majority. We have police. We would not tolerate an ongoing practice of sacrificing us to Satan. We would have uncovered it and put a stop to it. There would be evidence and documentation, and these things do not exist.

Owens is a bona fide lunatic. Antisemitism is pervasive among American blacks, and in all likelihood, she picked it up when she was a kid. If she really became conservative later, she must have failed to shed all the corrosive beliefs endemic to backward ghetto culture.

She is right in there with other prominent blacks who run around saying blacks are the real Jews and that actual Jews are Cossacks.

Owens has joined the cult of Catholicism. She wears a cross now. It appears she is pushing antisemitic myths in an effort to mobilize other Christians. That’s scary, because people like her will probably succeed.

We are in the apocalypse. Nearly everyone has rejected the Holy Spirit, and he is the only one who prevents and cures mental illness. Everyone who doesn’t know him lacks protection from demons that delude.

The word tells us a horseman–a spirit–will go out and incite murder. It has Candace Owens in its grip. Catholicism is polytheism, and it can trace its roots to Greek and African polytheism. Catholicism promotes the worship of numerous evil spirits disguised as saints, including the false Mary. It’s like the Greek religion, which encourages people to worship ridiculous false Gods. It’s like the Yoruba/Santeria/Obeah/Voodoo group of religions, which promote associating with dark spirits. It opens people to demonic inhabitation.

Catholics have a long history of abusing Jews. We have seen it during modern times. It hasn’t disappeared. It can get worse. It will.

I have learned that most Jews think “Christianity” means Catholicism. When they criticize Christianity, they often use arguments that seem bizarre to non-Catholics, because they apply to beliefs and practices we don’t know much about. If people like Owens manage to turn Catholics against Jews, more than they are already, it will only serve to convince Jews all Christians are dangerous.

Not helpful.

Interesting but digressive fact: Fox News is heavily influenced by Catholics. It’s easy to see it as a Christian-friendly organization, but it pushes Catholic content, and it has a history of putting Catholics in positions of prominence. O’Reilly. Hannity. Ingraham. Martha McCallum. Bret Baier. Roger Ailes attended mass weekly. There is no “evangelical” network, but there is a network for conservative papists.

I find it bizarre that we now live in a country where open antisemitism is tolerated as well as it is. Fifteen years ago, repercussions would have been quicker and harsher. Now we put up with a lot. On the left, antisemitism has literally become cool, and while people like Owens and Kanye West have taken hits, they aren’t ostracized the way they would have been a few years back.

It’s happening so quickly; it’s what I predicted. I said the Germans and Austrians were extremely civilized and accomplished people, yet in a short time, they went from accepting Jews to burning them. I said the same thing would happen again in the rest of the world. We are seeing it now. The predictions came from God, not me.

So what do you tell Jews? Trust Christians? That’s bad advice. Their only friends are Christians, but most Christians are not their friends. Jews are in a real pickle. They haven’t heard from God in 2000 years, and he is the only one who can give them victory and protection. To get to him, they have to go through Yeshua, and generally, they would sooner become Muslims.

Most Christians won’t be able to help them anyway, because Christians will also be attacked. Only the ones who are really close to God will have protection.

We live in a time where it is becoming increasingly apparent that only God can protect people. Governments and wealth will fail those who trust in them. It’s going to be very bad.

I’m very glad I will never have to say I was a Candace Owens fan. To me, she always seemed like an angry person who was obsessed with emotional argumentation. She said some things that were correct. You can’t be conservative and not be correct a lot. And she’s intelligent, like many other mental cases. But I always thought she was wasting her life. I thought she was arrogant and misguided. And she appeared to be in it largely for the money, like nearly all pundits.

When smart people believe idiotic lies, you know supernatural forces are at work. I don’t know how much crazier people can get, but I know we haven’t hit bottom yet.

Him is on the Way

I wasn’t going to write about this part of my life, but maybe I should. Today we got some test results back, and we are going to have a boy. Also, so far, all the genetic tests look fine.

Talk about relieved.

These days, when you’re expecting, they scare you to death. My wife is a young woman, but they told her she had a “geriatric” pregnancy. They were not referring to me. If you’re a feminist, and you’re convinced you’re supposed to be building a killer career instead of reproducing, and you think you have lots of time, here is bad news: you don’t. Get yourself a husband and become a traditional wife.

You think Kim Kardashian is great because she got rich and then had kids? Guess again. She’s only 43, and three of her kids are products of geriatric pregnancies. “High-risk,” they call it. She could have gotten started sooner, but her porn-heavy career as a professional slut delayed things.

My wife and I were under different constraints. I could not accept the possibility of my wife giving birth in Africa, so we had to wait until she got her green card. I did not want to see my child take his or her first steps on a video chat, and I wanted to be present in case I was needed. I definitely didn’t want to find out that my sick child was in a Zambian hospital.

It felt wonderful getting negative test results after all the hype about potential problems. God protected our child from the consequences of our sins. He took them on himself.

Today we had to take a long drive to retrieve Marvin from a bird boarding place, and on the way back, the test results came through on my wife’s phone. The website asked if we wanted to know the baby’s sex, and we agreed. That’s when we got the news. I had to hear it while I was stuck in traffic in Orlando with a parrot trying to chew its way out of a box.

I miss the days when people found out what they were having on the day of delivery. We are overloaded with unneeded information now. My wife wants to start shopping, however, and you can’t buy all that many things for a baby of unknown gender. Also, we pray for our son a lot, and I bless him and my wife. We are both really tired of referring to him as “my child” and “he or she.” Finally, we have pronouns. Correct ones, not nonsense words or inappropriate pronouns like the ones we see applied by people controlled by demons.

We also have a name. We are naming the boy after my mother’s dad. My wife wants to put a II at the end of his name. I can’t name him after my father, because even though God changed him late in life, I still have memories of my mother using his name as an insult. When my sister or I behaved badly, she would call us by his name. Also, when I was a kid, hearing his name put a knot in my stomach. I can’t go through that for the rest of my life.

I love my dad, and we reconciled completely, but there are still consequences for his behavior earlier in life.

My grandfather was more of a father figure to me than my dad was. My mom was his favorite child by a mile, and I was his favorite grandchild. I was the closest thing he had to a son, and I am still grateful for all he did for us. I can’t think of a better person to honor in this matter. He had no boys, and his other male grandchildren either have serious issues or identified with a paternal line.

I’m the one he used to take shooting and hunting. He said I was the reason he bought two ponies. I’m the one he used to put in the truck and take to his farms and on visits to friends, over and over.

He also did a lot for my sister, but he couldn’t stand her. He threw her out of his house because of the way she treated him.

I imagine seeing his name attached to a child of mixed race will gall one or two of my relatives. If so, that will be their problem, not mine, and maybe it will be a chastisement from God. A reminder that trying to put someone else in my favored position didn’t work.

Based on what I know about my cousins, it looks like I am the male descendant who got my grandfather’s patriarch mantle, albeit unexpectedly and without asking for it or knowing such a thing existed. I am the eldest son of the eldest daughter. I embrace it and try to do well, invoking God’s help every day. It’s very intimidating. I know my faults.

Merely producing children does not make you a patriarch. You have to have a sense of duty. You have to want to raise kids with ethics and introduce them to the Holy Spirit. You have to be a man who admits his immaturity and his faults and works to get God to cleanse him so the next generation will be improved. You also have to have a lot of wisdom, given to you by God, directly, you can pass on to your kids. You have to be able to accept and transmit a supernatural inheritance. A patriarch raises mature, decent children who don’t go to hell. Anyone else is just spilling seed on the ground.

Doesn’t matter if your kids are smart, successful, handsome, talented, famous, or impressive in any other unimportant and fleeting way. If they don’t know God, they are failed launches who will not succeed at producing nations. They and their seed will disappear.

You can’t be pretty much the same guy at 40 that you were at 15. You can’t live life with a 12-pack of Bud Light under your arm. You can’t have given up your family. You can’t be filled with victimhood fantasies or think every bad thing you do to other people is fine because you imagine you were cheated. You can’t be a crook who never thinks of anyone else. If your whole life is things like beer, adultery, blood sports, corruption, and money, you’re not a patriarch.

Did I want a boy? Seems like every man wants a boy. I was ambivalent at first. I thought girls would be less challenging to raise. Being a man is harder than being a woman. Given my age, I thought raising a boy might be more trouble than I wanted. Then I thought about patriarchy and the significance of male heirs to one’s legacy. I also thought about my family, which has been cursed with psychopathic female eldest children who abused and dominated males. I didn’t want that curse to continue. And I thought having a male eldest child would be good for whoever came later. He could do more for them. In the end, I felt a male child would be more of a blessing.

I delayed the beginning of my family. That’s why it took so long to happen. I was stupid and immature. I conformed to unprofitable hillbilly culture; sorry for using a slur. I also made disgraceful, damned morons my fathers. People like Hunter Thompson and the staff of The National Lampoon. Henry Miller. Fritz Perls. Others I could name. God reached out to me in spite of my punk attitudes, and it took me about 17 years to understand and apply his guidance. I did turn the corner, though. I can say that much for myself. I know people who will never turn.

Now you know the news. I hope I can control myself and avoid putting too much family content on the web. The world doesn’t have to know everything.

Trading Alligators for Bears

My wife and I did something extraordinary last week. We went on a trip inside the United States.

We went to a bunch of weird countries while we were separated by the State Department, which was busy letting illegals into the US and watching daytime TV because employees were at home waiting for covid to go away. Until this month, however, we never visited another state.

We went to Gatlinburg, Tennessee. A place I loved as a child.

For those who don’t know, Gatlinburg is in the Smokies. The physical location is beautiful. It’s in a valley surrounded by mountains. To get to Gatlinburg, you have to travel scenic two-lane roads. The area is very nice. Appalachia isn’t as staggeringly beautiful as places like Switzerland and Utah, but it certainly beats the rest of the Eastern United States.

I don’t know when Gatlinburg became a tourist town. It happened before I was born. By the time my family started traveling between Florida and Kentucky to see relatives, everything was already established.

When I was a kid, it was considerably less tacky. It had a bunch of fun souvenir shops, including one called the Rebel Corner, which was decorated with huge Confederate flags. There was a place that made and sold candy. There were some okay restaurants. There were hotels built over the Little Pigeon River, which is really just a rocky creek. You could sit on your balcony or by your open window and listen to the soothing sound of the water.

There were trails and sights. I remember walking up Clingman’s Dome, a mountain nearly 7,000 feet high. My grandfather, the guy who taught me tact, was with us on the paved tourist path. He saw a man who looked like he checked in at about 350 shambling up the path with his own family, and he said, “It’s a good thing you’re not big and fat!”

Sometimes we saw bears. Back then, tourists did brilliant things like feeding them by hand through open car windows.

In those days, I enjoyed Gatlinburg and the nearby town of Cherokee, North Carolina, because to me, they were part of the experience of visiting Kentucky, which I wrongly thought was heaven on Earth.

Gatlinburg has gotten seedier with time. It’s a little trashy now. They used to have a tiny Ripley’s Believe it or Not museum, and now there is an array of Ripley’s attractions. They have a big saltwater aquarium where you can see sharks and sawfish. They’ve built a big concrete parking garage.

Watch the video below to see what Gatlinburg has turned into.

There are weird little attractions that don’t seem to make sense. One features a robotic horse in a dress, sitting out front to attract customers. We didn’t see the appeal.

Even though Gatlinburg is a somewhat downscale tourist town, we enjoyed ourselves. We walked in the woods. We had big breakfasts.

We didn’t go to Dollywood, Dolly Parton’s creepy amusement park. It’s in nearby Pigeon Forge.

I don’t like Dolly Parton. I thought she was perfectly okay when I was a kid, but over the years she and her park have worked hard to promote abomination, and all the time, she has pretended to be a Christian. She’s a complete hypocrite, but lots of stubborn, rebellious Southern women, and I don’t just mean lesbians, think she’s almost a co-savior, like the false Catholic version of Mary. Like a white Oprah.

I don’t know if her attitude has something to do with her unmarried brother who died young from an undisclosed disease or what, but I don’t want any part of her act. I never liked her music, either. She is no Patsy Cline.

The main reason we stayed in a tourist spot was to have a base from which we could look at the area. We have both had thoughts of moving to Eastern Tennessee, and if you stay in Gatlinburg, you can have good food and a nice hotel while you look around. Appalachia is not known for quality food and lodging, so to me, finding these things was a blessing.

We looked around Sevier and Blount counties. The geography and the trees and plants made a big impression, as did the sub-95 temperatures.

When you live in Northern Florida, you get used to living on sand that won’t support anything you really want to grow. You can’t grow apples, real peaches, blackberries, cherries, tomatoes, corn, or anything else without a lot of struggle. The grass is something called bahia. It’s thin, and when you walk across it a few times, you leave obvious damage. It’s full of stinging bugs, and nettles are a problem. Lying down in your own yard is not possible.

Once you get far enough north, you get into real soil. You can have apple trees and grow tomatoes. You can have a lawn.

I have been concerned that if we moved, the people might be backward on racial issues. I’m from Eastern Kentucky, and I’ve also spent a lot of time in Western North Carolina, and I know there are parts of Appalachia where you can have problems if you’re in an interracial marriage or even if you’re just black.

My grandfather was a circuit judge over Breathitt County, Kentucky, and during his time, a black woman moved there and tried to practice law. I never thought of him as an enlightened person with regard to race, but he supported her. The people of Jackson, Kentucky eventually burned her house down. And it wasn’t that long ago. He died in the mid-90’s.

On this visit, I was shocked. In Gatlinburg, we saw one interracial family after another. What a relief. And they were definitely Southerners. I also saw many clones of myself. Men in cargo or work shorts, T-shirts, and baseball caps. It was like they were pumping us out of a factory.

We saw two black families in rented Rzrs. A Rzr is a factory dune buggy made by Polaris. It has no windows. Apparently renting them is popular in Gatlinburg.

Maybe things have improved.

Southerners are very, very big on powersports and unnecessary vehicles. If you’re a Southerner, and you don’t have a golf cart, an ATV, a dune buggy, a dirt bike, or a Jeep, there must be something wrong with you. I use a gas-powered EZGO to get my mail.

The people were very nice. I was concerned that if we left our area, the people would not be as pleasant. There are a lot of childish, rude, stingy people in Eastern Kentucky. In Tennessee, just about everyone was great. And there were signs of Christianity everywhere. There were signs advertising help for women who were considering abortions. There were signs telling people Jesus was coming back. I loved it.

I have had the feeling God wanted me to move to Tennessee, as have many other Christians. I don’t know if we’ll do it, but now I am less concerned about the possibility of making a bad decision.

During our trip, we applied for a Schengen visa so we could finally visit Europe. The real Europe, not Ireland or Turkey. Incredibly, they granted our request, so now we have to decide whether we should go. My wife is going through some medical treatment right now–nothing bad or permanent–so we’re thinking it over.

We only saw one bear in Tennessee, but it was a whopper. We were walking down the main drag of Gatlinburg, and we saw a bunch of people staring at the area behind a hotel. I looked and saw a black shape not much smaller than a cow. This thing was enormous. It must have been checking out the bear-resistant dumpsters.

When I think of black bears, I think of animals about the size of a hog. Maybe 150-200 pounds. They sometimes hit 600 however, making them as big as medium-sized grizzlies. The record is over 900. I don’t know what this bear weighed, but it looked a lot more like 600 than 200.

It took my wife a while to spot it, which is bizarre. She finally saw it walking up some stairs.

I knew we might see some bears. I expected typical disappointing bears about my own size. Not this time. This baby could have fed a small town for a day. It would make a beautiful rug.

I enjoyed seeing real trees instead of one water oak after another. We saw hickories, walnuts, sycamores, maples, black oaks, chestnut oaks…serious trees that have practical uses other than fueling smokers. They made me think of the times I had spent with my grandparents in the woods. They seemed to know every plant’s name and purpose.

We saw a lot of people who were obese or had leg problems. Diabetes, maybe. We saw people who clearly weren’t on top of the financial ladder. We saw a lot of tattoos and cigarettes.

I thought about Gatlinburg’s status as a second-tier tourist town, and I felt like God showed me some things. We were there as people who did not have to work. We were able to stay at a very nice hotel. We weren’t going into debt to do anything. Both of us knew God very well and never felt that we were alone or that we might have to handle life’s problems on our own. Our health was good. We were surrounded by unhealthy people who were loading themselves with debt.

Many of the others would have to go home shortly and work at jobs they didn’t like, in order to pay for things they had already received. When you borrow, you get your reward up front, and then while you’re working to pay for it later on, you have no reward to look forward to, and you can’t quit.

It reminded me to keep humility, gratitude, and fear of God in mind. We earned very little of what we have. God gave it to us in spite of our evil natures and deeds. Every good thing we have is part of an inheritance from God. We should never feel superior to anyone. What is uglier than an arrogant heir who has no empathy? I have been that person.

We aren’t sure what we’ll do. Sometimes I think we should go to Utah instead of Europe. It’s a lot less complicated, and it’s a shame for Americans not to see their own enormous country.

In any case, my wife is now in the Schengen visa system, so if we decide to travel in the future, it should be easier.

One More Shot at the Lost Continent

Before too long, my wife and I will find out whether Europe’s racist visa policies apply to African green card holders as well as Africans still in Africa.

We have traveled a lot since we found each other. Egypt, Turkey, Singapore, Ireland…destinations that were pleasant enough, yet which were all compromises. We have never been able to get to Europe.

I mean the real Europe, not Ireland. The place with the alps and the great food. Going to Ireland is like going to Boston, only the people are much nicer.

Well, they would have to be, though, wouldn’t they? Okay, they were nicer than most Americans, not just the interesting residents of urban Massachusetts.

Ireland seems like a pleasant place to live. The climate is gentle. It’s green, just like you would expect. The countryside is pretty. It’s fairly prosperous. It could conceivably be possible to hole up in the sticks and hide from the national psychosis of leftism. But the cities are kind of dumpy, the food is worse than it is here, the sweaters are thin and cheap, and when you’re there, you feel like actual Irish people are a tiny minority.

The Irish have abandoned Ireland. Why is that? They’re all here now. Not completely true, really. They’re all over the world, and they didn’t quit leaving after the potatoes came back. Is Ireland really that bad? Seemed fine to me.

I would not go back to Ireland, simply because it’s dull. There is really nothing there except the cliffs of Moher. Other European countries are different. Those alps. The fjords. Renaissance art. Medieval architecture. Magnificent food.

I wouldn’t go to England, either, and I suspect Ireland is just England without the sights.

Most of my ancestors are supposedly from England and Scotland, but I have no interest in seeing those places. I don’t understand people who want to “visit the old country” and who get all weepy about places maybe 3% of their ancestors came from. Let’s face it; if you have a name identified with a European country, and your people have been in the US over a hundred years, your genetic connection to its people is like a gram of coke that has been stepped on 10 times. If genes were paint, the country’s genes were white, and other countries’ genes were black, you would be charcoal gray.

My parents were under the impression we were mostly Scottish. I don’t think this is true, but anyway, they went to Scotland and looked up my dad’s ancestors, who are dead and were not able to receive him. They enjoyed bad food and mediocre scenery. On a rare and prized, not to mention expensive, foreign trip.

Forget that. Give me someone else’s ancestral homeland. Give me Switzerland, Austria, Italy, France, Germany, and possibly the Netherlands. Give me a place with great sights and wonderful food. Give me excellent weather and hotels that aren’t full of mold.

My parents could have had Paris. Back when it was safe, I mean.

England is full of furious Muslims now. That’s not for me. If I want to go to a country full of furious Muslims, I’ll visit Michigan. With a side hajj to Minneapolis.

London has worse crime than New York now, and like New York, it prevents decent people from carrying weapons. Should I take my wife to a place like that? How would I explain that decision to her in a London emergency room?

It’s true that England has great food now. It’s called curry. No one goes there to find the best spotted dick and toad in the hole.

I would have to rank Egypt at the bottom of our destinations. I would never go again unless I had a sudden desire to do another Nile cruise. The people were very nice everywhere, and sometimes the food was good. The cruise was relaxing and interesting. But Cairo is a slum, straight out. A real mess. And Egyptians throw their garbage everywhere.

The best restaurant we visited had dozens of dead flies decorating the windowsills.

Singapore was the real sleeper. I didn’t want to go at all, but now we have gone twice. We have a bizarre sensation of being at home there. Inexplicable.

We enjoyed Turkey, and the people were wonderful. Now Turkey is threatening to annihilate the Jews, so that takes some of the shine off of it. Ireland is antisemitic, but at least they’re not planning genocidal military action.

I don’t know if they can. Do they have an army? A real one, not the kind that blows up department stores?

We are giving Switzerland another shot because its nearest consulate is on the way to Tennessee. Before too terribly long, we intend to visit the Volunteer State to see if we should move there. Switzerland has a consulate in Atlanta. I figure we can get in and out of Atlanta fast enough to avoid being soiled too much.

Other countries would have required us to go to places like DC, New York, and Miami. If you see me in Miami, alert the police, because I have been kidnapped. Miserable, stinking hole. Thank you again, God, for getting me out.

We were going to shoot for a short trip to Switzerland, but given that this may be our last real trip for years, I decided to tack on some time in Italy. Rome, to be exact. I have been to Florence a couple of times, and it’s wonderful, but I think a person who has never been to Italy should probably pick Rome.

We don’t jam lots of destinations into short intervals. We are not the kind of people who would do three days in Florence and 4 days in Rome. If you haven’t been to a place for a reasonably long spell, you haven’t really been there. If you spend a day in Rome and then say you’ve seen it, you might as well say the same thing after walking through the airport between flights.

It has to be Rome or Florence. Not both.

We are planning to cut Switzerland up a little, but I think that’s different, because as beautiful as it is, you can’t stare at the mountains all that long without wanting to do something else. We expect to do a few days in Lucerne and a few in Wengen. Go up some mountains. Eat some plates of potatoes and cheese. Move on.

Will they let us in? No idea. The visa picture is supposed to be better for green card holders than Africans in Africa who are married to Americans, but we have been lied to before. Every time, now that I think of it. We don’t know what’s true and what isn’t.

I’m starting not to care. We liked Hong Kong and Singapore. We got a Taiwan visa quickly and easily. We haven’t seen America together. We don’t actually have to go to continental Europe. There are other places to go.

I want her to see the nice parts of Appalachia and maybe the Rockies. Utah is breathtaking. We can skip the entire Northeast, all major cities, and anything south of Orlando. No wacked-out West Coast destinations. Sliding around on other people’s feces is not for us.

Traveling with one or more kids is a future concern. I don’t know how people do it. I don’t know how they deal with kids on short trips to the grocery store. My wife doesn’t think overseas trips with children can be done. Not well. Maybe she’s right.

So where do you go in Tennessee? Gatlinburg, of course. Good old touristy Gatlinburg. I went there many times as a child. I saw people feed the bears through car windows. We walked up Clingman’s Dome. We went to Cherokee, and my mother took a picture of me with a bunch of guys who claimed to be Indians. Did braves really wear Chuck Taylors?

It’s touristy, but on the other hand, it has the best hotels, there is real food, and it’s a good base for exploration. And we are, in fact, tourists.

I haven’t seen Gatlinburg since the early 2000’s, I think. My family got together. A cabin was rented. Two aunts, my dad, my sister, me, and some cousins. My sister tortured the rest of us with her nasty unhousetrained Maltese and her constant unprovoked attacks on me. I think things will be better this time. In the recipe for an excellent vacation, or any other pleasant or even bearable experience, the secret can’t-miss ingredient is her absence.

Some people have a gift; the gift of making every occasion better by being elsewhere. This explains the rapture, the tribulation, heaven, and hell.

We are gearing up for all this stuff now. We hope to travel during the coming month.

If the Swiss let us down, I guess it will be the Far East and rural America for the foreseeable future. We have to do something for recreation until Yeshua gets us out of this world.

When do I Board my Flight Out of Here?

Delta Airlines is pushing the sexual perversion agenda on employees and passengers now. The phrase “ladies and gentlemen,” which was always incorrect in that it flattered passengers, is now being scrubbed from Delta’s activities over misgendering and triggering concerns.

I didn’t know this was happening. I don’t pay that much attention to the language airline employees use. I have heard a lot of gate-agent announcements, but it didn’t occur to me to think about leftist delusion while listening for information I needed.

Thinking about this, I remember a deranged man I saw at a gate long ago. He was a tall, thin black man. He wore a uniform dress and a wig. Other than that, there was nothing feminine about him. He looked and sounded a little like Michael Jordan. I think this was in the 1990’s. At the time, seeing him was a surreal experience. Now he’s normal, and normal people are the freaks.

When I use the present tense, I’m assuming he’s alive. Big assumption.

Airlines have attracted homosexual employees for a long time. One web source says it’s because they love flying around the world to sodomize and be sodomized by strangers.

A dead airline steward, Gaetan Dugas, is often blamed for spreading AIDS early in the pandemic. A biographer said Dugas would go into dark bathhouses, engage in sodomy, turn on the lights so partners could see his sores, and tell them he had “gay cancer,” which was not really inaccurate. He had Kaposi’s sarcoma, which is not something you are likely to see on a heterosexual. He would say, “I’m going to die, and so are you.”

It is widely believed most stewards are homosexuals. You can Google around and see what you think.

Interesting phenomenon. It’s as if Satan programmed them to spread disease. Homosexuals do a better job than anyone. They carry most of the weight, keeping syphilis alive. The stats are unreal.

There is a difference between pandering to perverted customers and hiring a lot of perverts, but I suppose the airlines’ hiring practices suggest they would be unusually receptive to perversion DEI.

In other news, they have been telling us Kanye West has had major financial setbacks since going nuts, attacking Jews, and claiming he is God. I think he’s about to get a lot poorer.

Speaking to probable antisemite Candace Owens, he has said a Jewish exercise coach, a Jewish doctor, and “the Jewish media” conspired to put him in the hospital in 2022, for the crime of reading the Bible. He said these things in a 2022 interview which has just been released.

He now says he’s God, and he criticizes the actual God for failing to answer his prayers, but he said he was harmed because Jews thought he was a Christian. He still held himself out as a Christian in 2022.

I think I can guarantee you there is no rap music in heaven. Not that I really need to say that in order to convince people West isn’t God.

He was hospitalized for “exhaustion,” which is what they call nervous breakdowns these days. Mental problems.

“The Jewish media” can’t sue him for libel, because it’s not a person, but what about his doctor and his coach? Uh oh. I think he’ll be paying them a few million dollars soon, unless they are extremely forgiving.

This takes me back to my days as an armorbearer at Miami’s Trinity Church, where “pastor” Rich Wilkerson welcomed Kanye and Kim and anyone else who was famous and/or had money. Wilkerson is a failed Osteen/Munsey clone, and he loves cameras and greenbacks. His prosperity church never does as well as the ones run by his buddies; people like Keith Craft and Joyce Meyer. He is perpetually desperate, so he does desperate things.

When I was an armorbearer, they made us give special treatment to Luther Campbell, the first big pornographic rapper. Luther never repented. He was running for mayor of Dade County, and Wilkerson let him speak at Trinity. This was a violation of the laws surrounding church tax exemption, but Trinity was about 80% black, and those laws are not enforced at black churches. Even when white people run them in order to milk blacks.

The armorbearers had to kiss up to Kim Kardashian when she visited. She has never repented, either. She’s a porn whore. Anyone who does porn is a type of whore. She was placed in the front row and treated like Jezebel at Ahab’s court, and Wilkerson went to Twitter and said she was a “great friend.” I don’t think she ever returned, so that big fish got away, and Trinity’s financial problems continued.

It’s like she went into a floundering newsstand and bought a copy of Cosmo, and the owner went to the web and called her a great friend as she vanished from his life forever.

Wilkerson also published a gushing video interview with Trayvon Martin’s obviously-single (divorced) mother after he tried to murder George Zimmerman, a volunteer neighborhood watch captain trained by the police. Wilkerson interviewed her to get her deep spiritual insights, because obviously, the mother of a criminal has lots of those.

I almost think Wilkerson can smell a TV camera.

Wilkerson’s son and clone Richie was chosen by West to perform his marriage to Kardashian. We see how well Richie’s disciples did in their conversions.

Megachurch pastors cultivate special milk cows and then spend life hanging from their teats. Richie cultivated Kanye and Kim. His buddy Carl Lentz had Justin Bieber, who ended up rejecting Lentz before Lentz was expelled from his church for adultery.

Picture yourself in Richie’s $6,000 basketball shoes. You are desperate for fame and money the way Instagram models with their first grey hairs are desperate for rich husbands, you think you’ve landed a couple of whoppers, and then they abandon you and one starts threatening to go “death con 3” on the Jewish people.

I guess Kanye will become somewhat poorer, but I don’t think he’ll ever go away, because–keep this on the down low–antisemitism is accepted among ghetto blacks. I know that shocks you. Big secret, right?

I wonder what will happen if I Google “the real Jews.”

Oh, yeah. “Black Hebrew Israelites.” “Black people is the real Jews.” One of Kanye’s friends is “a Jew just like all so-called black people.” A Twitter video of a black man yelling at Jewish people, saying, “Sorry, kids. You’re not the real Jews.”

It’s not whites or Hispanics or even Muslims saying this stuff. Every so often, we hear a black celebrity say it openly, and it’s bubbling under the surface in every ghetto.

This nonsense comes mainly from Black Hebrew Israelite cult teachings, and most black people think the Black Hebrew Israelites are a crazy cult, but the “real Jews” lie has permeated ghetto society. It’s a seductive excuse for people who have been trained to blame others for their self-inflicted failures. It worked on the Germans and Austrians.

I think Kanye will be sued very successfully, but he will not go away. Too much fuel goes on the fire every day in the form of ghetto and white-ghetto-wannabe dollars.

Society is getting worse and worse. Not all that long ago, you couldn’t get away with vomiting antisemitism over the airways, and nobody had to call men “ma’am.”

Why are we still here? When will Yeshua rescue us? I know we don’t deserve it, but he never said we had to earn it. He earned it for us, so when will he come? This place is nuts.

So far, I have not seen the day when I was forced to lie and use Satanic “pronouns.” I have not had to grovel in order to protect myself and my family, as the Jews groveled before the Egyptians, Babylonians, Medes and Persians, Philistines, Greeks, Romans, Spanish, Portuguese, Imperial Russians, Soviets, and Nazis. I hope my family and I are gone before it reaches that stage. Acknowledging Kamala Harris as my president will be a big step toward the final humiliation.

When is He Coming?

Written on August 6.

The murderous 30-mph storm is behind me now, so there is time to write of other things. I did not drown in spite of LIFE-THREATENING FLOODING, I was not DEVASTATED, and my wife and I are okay even though Debby BARRELED DOWN ON US forcing us to SHELTER IN PLACE and HUNKER DOWN.

I guess I’m a little tired of humanity today. Is it obvious? The sheep and liars are getting to me. Every time a storm pops up, the TV sheep baaaa the same lies at us through their veneers and lip fillers for the same selfish reasons.

I have realized I should have more sympathy for people who get hit by weak storms that rain a lot. When I think of hurricanes, I don’t think much about the threat of rain. I haven’t lived in an area that could flood since I left home for college. Even in Miami, I was about 15 feet above sea level. When I think of hurricane problems, I think of winds that put trees on houses, remove roofs, toss ships across streets, and push walls down.

It’s a weird thing, but Florida has been inhabited–by people who build things, not just primitive, illiterate Indians–since the 1500’s, but we have not figured out that putting a house’s floor 4 feet above the normal high tide line is wrong. This state is full of buildings that pretty much sacrifice their first floors when storm surge hits, and insurers keep paying to fix them over and over. And we reimburse the insurers. Even people like me who can’t have flooding or hurricane-force winds.

Some people in coastal areas are smart enough to have homes that are lifted up above the surge line, but I suppose they are still a small minority. If you go to the Keys, you will see some houses with cars under them. The houses sit on pillars, and the first floors are carports. Living areas start on the second floors. It’s a big advance, but having your car washed away is still bad.

It is possible to build low-lying buildings water can’t get into. I know this because I’m not stupid. We don’t seem interested in doing it, though.

Anyway, because I was safe from water problems, I have been dismissive of people who get upset about weak, wet storms. I will try to do better in the future.

I got some breezes during the night before Debby hit land, but the damage was limited to a few downed branches and some leaves. Today it’s dry, so I can fire up the Kubota and move the limbs out.

There are a few downed trees around here. I haven’t seen any on my property yet, but I haven’t done a tour because it was wet. My wife and I drove to a medical testing place and a grocery yesterday, at a time when the TV people had convinced the rest of the country we were battling a killer storm, and I would guess we saw 7 oaks on their sides.

When you see a Northern Florida oak that has snapped, you realize how pathetic they are. Many of them are just empty shells. They look good from outside, but a three-foot-thick oak may have a trunk which is just a tube with walls four inches thick. Inside, there will be rainwater and thousands of roaches. The better oak species are more solid, but most oaks are of the types that rot standing up.

I don’t know why hollow oaks fill up with roaches.

America is kind of a hollow oak. Looks pretty good from outside, but it’s rotten inside, the guts are gone, and it’s ready to snap in a good breeze.

Today I saw some idiot woman bragging about ruining a family gathering. Someone had a baby, and the guests were saying it was a boy. The grinning, smug, sadistic idiot said she told them to wait 10 years and “see if it sticks.” And she gave the child a onesie with some kind of perversion symbolism on it. She was proud of herself. She was happy she had hurt everyone’s feelings.

Such people are our future. I don’t like typing the word “our” in this context. I hope I’m not in that particular future. Any more than I already am.

People are not sufficiently willing to disown each other. It’s a real problem. It’s a very big problem with relatives. People have this idea that you should stick with your family until the bitter end. They think it’s a Christian principle. Yeshua, on the other hand, told people who wanted to follow him to abandon their own unbelieving fathers. Quickly.

As Spirit-led Christians, we have to give up on people who will never grow. We have to give up on our subcultures, our nations, and humanity itself. We can’t keep identifying strongly as Americans, whites, blacks, or anything but children of God. We have to figure out who our real team is.

I’m an American the way Daniel was a Babylonian. Thanks, America, for whatever my family and I get from you. I will pay my taxes and obey most of your laws. I will try to be an asset. If I could still be drafted, I would serve. I show up for jury duty even though they always dismiss attorneys. I will set your interests above those of other nations until it becomes impossible. I could see buying a flag. But that’s all you get. You don’t get my heart.

America is not my permanent home. I belong to heaven. This is just a temporary destination; an assignment. I’m like a Peace Corps volunteer in Somalia.

There are no dead Americans. Think about that. None of my ancestors are American. They’re citizens of heaven and hell. Ronald Reagan isn’t an American. George Washington isn’t an American. They graduated.

I said I would set America’s interests above other nations’ until it became impossible. I must be a traitor!

Really?

What if I were a Jew born in Germany in 1890? What if I served honorably in World War I, got a chestful of medals, and then had to watch other Germans beat my friends and relatives in the street?

People say, “America, right or wrong.” Should Germans, Jewish or otherwise, have said, “Germany, right or wrong”?

Jehu had two men murder the queen of Israel. Her husband the king was anointed by God. She was the rightful queen. God approved of what Jehu did. Hmm.

Leftists are suddenly the most patriotic people among us, in the sense that they believe our children belong to the state. You can’t be any more patriotic than that. If you give yourself to the state, it’s a big deal, but giving your children is far, far more patriotic.

They’re less patriotic in that they run around cursing America, but they have always had problems with cognitive dissonance. They say America is evil and racist, but we should give America our kids.

If you’re a real patriot, shouldn’t you consider your children property of the state?

They push this idea constantly. But who really accepts it?

If children are property of the government, why are we expected to take them with us when we emigrate? Aren’t we stealing the government’s property?

People move to other countries to improve the lives of their families. Who ever moved to another country to help that country at his family’s expense? Who would abandon is wife and kids in Communist China and move to America, not to help himself, but to help America? Perhaps a lunatic.

Citizenship is disposable, like membership in the Elks. When the Elks stop treating you well, you cancel your membership. The only permanent membership you should never give up is your membership in God’s family. Abandoning your country and siding against your wife and even your children in order to preserve your relationship with God are not merely acceptable; they’re mandatory and necessary.

America is turning on people like me. It is becoming our enemy.

The whole purpose of staying here is to have America look after my family and me, so my obligation to support America is shrinking every day. Increasingly, America threatens my future and the welfare of my wife and the children we will have, because we can never conform to statism, perversion, the persecution of Christians, or antisemitism. The little punishments for people like me increase every day, just as antisemitic laws increased in Germany and Austria. Just as punishment of Christians increased in what is now Turkey as the Satanic Muslim cult took over.

This place is lost. The frog motivational speakers love to tell us about is boiling.

If you’re not a trashy person, you may have no idea who Megan Thee Stallion is. Ghetto black Americans have come up with some pretty dumb slang, and “stallion” is at the top of the list. A stallion is a male horse, and as we all know, stallions are commonly referred to as models of masculinity. For some reason, American black people started calling attractive women stallions some years ago. Believe me, it’s gross, hearing a young black man express his sexual attraction to a stallion.

Megan is a slutty rapper. She dances while spreading her buttocks at her fans. She sings about her vagina as well as the penises of the men with whom she fornicates.

Kamala Harris just had a rally, and Megan showed up to do her act. Look it up. She sang–well, she can’t sing, because she has no talent–she barked several of her pornographic songs. She omitted some filthy words. She spead and wiggled her buttocks at the crowd. She has 4 slutty-looking dancers behind her.

This was at a rally promoting the only Democrat candidate for the presidency of the United States. Leftists are making fun of people who thought it should not have happened.

Children work in political campaigns. They go to rallies.

Until today, I never thought about it, but because my children will be considered black, they will be targets for this generation of child-stealing musical whores and pimps. They may be ostracized and abused for refusing to join in.

Look what Kamala Harris is telling young black girls. “Spread your buttocks on stage and sing about receiving oral sex. This is empowerment. This is how you punish people who think you should be anything other than whore and a savage.”

Joe Rogan is the subject of a rumor now. They say he is going to sue MSNBC for creating a doctored video falsely implying he admires Kamala Harris. In reality, he thinks she’s a fool. He said she could win the election anyway because Americans swallow BS so readily.

Today I was reminded how right he was about the stupidity of present-day Americans. I saw a patronizing female influencer lying about the effort to ban gas stoves. She is extremely popular. Women love being told lies that justify dethroning men and God and establishing a female supremacist, pagan world where their destructive emotion-based fantasies become law.

You really need to see this woman to understand how gullible other women have become. Her name is Arielle Fodor, and she claims to be a kindergarten teacher. She’s as dumb as a stick. She speaks to adults as though they were mentally retarded.

Her followers run into 7 figures, and leftist publications write very, very favorably of her. The fact that this could happen proves Joe Rogan is right.

In a world where this lying dimwit is admired, Kamala Harris can be president. What happens then? A stupid, dishonest, soulless woman who craves positions of power yet runs from responsibility and decisions can run the free world and appoint all our federal judges. It’s unthinkable, but polls make it very clear she has a good chance of winning.

Here is a woman who may be over 25% African, teaching black girls to be obnoxious, brainless sluts. Running for president and likely to win.

I can’t make myself picture this empty bag of sagging skin standing behind the podium at the White House, but it may happen anyway. Picture her dealing with China, Russia, and Iran. Imagine her groveling with her belly up for Hamas. Cackling to be petted as she says Israel has to be held accountable.

America itself is responsible. America is doing this to children of God who live here. America will let this feeble-minded creature confiscate wealth, give it to rioting morons, and launch nuclear missiles. How much loyalty should America get from us? Should we wave flags 15 years from now as armed men in panties march us to killing fields?

God has to get us out of here. There is no fighting these people with weapons. There is no convincing them to change. There is no living with them. I live in a nice, safe bubble right now, but there is no future here until Yeshua comes and removes the demons and powerful idiots from the world.