When Can we go Home?

A while back, I noted that demonic–meaning “caused by demons”–insanity had afflicted many people on Earth, and I said that in order to keep track of the progress of increasing insanity, it could be useful to watch Keith Olbermann, fired ESPN and MSNBC personality and dispenser of absurd theories that conflict with commonly-known facts. Not long ago, he claimed no one should believe Representative Dr. Ronny Jackson, MD, the former White House physician who is now Donald Trump’s primary care provider. Jackson described Trump’s bullet wound, and Olbermann made up two weird claims. He said Jackson was not a medical doctor, and then he said he had no license. Both libels originated either in hell or in Olbermann’s own disrupted psyche.

Olbermann has proven to be a pretty good barometer of lunacy. Recently, some baseball players mimicked Trump’s “Fight! Fight! Fight!” shooting response, and Olbermann said they should be banned from baseball and their stadium should be razed. He also said the franchise should be confiscated.

Nothing crazy there. Nope. And definitely nothing that would inspire arson or murder.

Leftists love confiscation. It’s like a fetish with them. Money. Guns. Land. You name it.

Today, I was looking at the Gospel of Luke, and I saw something that corroborated my beliefs about Satan sending spirits of lunacy to manipulate the enemies of good.

As predicted by the Psalms and the prophet Isaiah, Yeshua was rejected by most Jews of his time. In particular, he was rejected by the illegitimate priesthood which had been installed by Roman conquerors.

Somewhat appropriately, if you think about it, he was murdered (sacrificed) by priests. And they used a sort of syncretism as their tool. They partnered with heathens against almighty God. Sounds like Joel Osteen.

At one point, he encountered a man with a withered right hand. This took place in a synagogue, on the sabbath. He asked the religious bigwigs this:

I will ask you one thing; Is it lawful on the sabbath days to do good, or to do evil? to save life, or to destroy it?

Then he restored the man’s hand with a miracle.

Luke said something interesting. He said that after Yeshua performed the miracle, the prominent and powerful Jews who were against him were filled with insanity. Some Bibles say they were filled with “rage,” but the Greek word is anoia, which Strong’s equates to “folly” and “madness.” Those words mean insanity.

The Bible says they then began conspiring against Yeshua, to decide what they should do to him. Psychotic rage came first. Then a willingness to do him harm. Eventually, they beat and murdered him.

This was not a rational disagreement over doctrine. It wasn’t based on Tanakh-based objections to Yeshua’s Messiah status. It was plain old insanity, caused by demons. The priests and scribes didn’t know the Holy Spirit. He didn’t live in them. As a result, they were open to other spirits who made them their homes.

They had the same madness leftists and Islamists have today.

I just had a comment deleted at Yahoo News. I have probably posted three comments there this year. It’s rare that I risk getting sucked into the playpen.

There was a story about the FBI. It said the FBI was doing forensics to try to determine what hit Trump during the assassination attempt. Some cranks are claiming he was hit by a piece of a shattered teleprompter, or that he was not injured at all. Hard to explain the blood if he wasn’t injured, isn’t it?

This, too, is madness.

They say reasonable minds may differ, but sometimes it takes an unreasonable mind.

There is no evidence before us–zero–that any teleprompters were damaged. At least one witness says they were not damaged. At the time of the shooting, no one claimed they were damaged.

The doctors who treated Trump after the shooting called his injury a bullet wound. His personal physician described it as a gunshot wound.

Better yet, there is a photo showing a bullet passing by the right side of Trump’s head. We’ve all seen it.

A .223 round fired from 130 yards away from a chronograph will pass it at close to 3000 feet per second. The shot of Trump and the bullet trail shows the trail in an area about two feet long, behind Trump. It had to be there to show it had gone by his ear. The picture wouldn’t mean as much if the trail had appeared in front of him.

That means the bullet was there for about 1/1500th of a second. A photographer who had taken photos even 1/100th of a second too early or too soon would have missed the shot. Say what you will; God arranged that extraordinary and unprecedented photo because he knew Satan’s children would lie about Trump being shot.

Do I have to bring up Occam’s razor? Bullets were fired. There was nothing between Donald Trump and the muzzle of the gun. A bullet trail was photographed behind his ear, and it’s obvious the bullet was moving in a straight line, the way bullets move when they haven’t fragmented or hit any objects. The teleprompters were not damaged.

Why make up a story about fragments or shrapnel?

Am I sitting in a recliner typing a blog entry in my living room? Maybe I’m in a simulation. Maybe I’ve been in a coma for 50 years, and I make up dreams about blogging to stave off boredom. Maybe I’ve been drugged, and I’m just imagining the recliner and the living room. Or maybe the simplest explanation is correct.

God knows leftists are horrible liars, like their father. They can’t always get things to go their way, but they can almost always lie afterward and try to convince people things really did go their way. They work constantly to erase the truth and replace it with their version of reality. They tell us the Hebrews never wandered in the desert. They say Yeshua never existed. James Cameron claimed to have photos of the box where his bones were deposited. They used to claim David never existed. They say the Holocaust didn’t happen.

I posted a comment about the wound, the photo and the dishonesty of leftists, and after I sat down to write this blog post, it vanished.

It was not offensive. It was based in verifiable truth. Leftist liars had already responded. Doesn’t matter. It’s gone. Yahoo wants the world to think it never happened, and, if possible, that I never existed.

I’ll describe the feeling I have these days.

Have you ever dealt with people who absolutely cannot listen to good advice? Brats come to mind. Determined conspiracy theorists. People whose absurd religious beliefs are based in emotion, not reality. Flat Earthers. Everyone involved in the racist, misandrous, anti-Christian, antisemitic myths of DEI.

After a while, you go silent. You fold your hands, sit back, and observe, with no interest in speaking further. You realize you have lost all desire to interact with the people you tried to help.

That’s what’s going on in my heart. This world is hopelessly lost. Nearly no one can be helped.

I would like to make the usual preparations for my family’s future. Should we move to a better property for kids? Should we come up with plans for raising them correctly? Should there be trust funds? Should I buy more real estate? Should I buy more stocks? Should I get serious about exercise and nutrition so I don’t die while my kids are in elementary school?

I don’t care any more. I don’t see any way to have a future here.

I am not depressed. My life is so easy, it’s hard to believe. My wife is wonderful. I love my farm. Very few demands are placed on me. It’s almost idyllic. But I wonder why we are still here on Earth, given that there is no possibility of living among sane people for the rest of our lives.

If we live out our normal lifespans here, we face decades of humoring and placating dangerous psychotics in order to get by.

I keep eating too much. I spend too much on restaurants. I don’t look after my business as well as I should.

Sometimes I’ll think, “We just went out to eat yesterday.” Then I’ll think, “What difference does it make?”

I don’t care. I don’t care. Will we be here to worry about it if we diminish our wealth too much? I can’t make myself believe it.

Yeshua was rejected in Nazareth, the town where he grew up. Friends and neighbors who had known him and his parents for about 30 years tried to murder him because he said he was the Messiah and told them heathens were more open than they were.

Nazareth is on high ground, and it’s possible to shove people off so they fall a long way onto rocks. I know because I had to run an errand there once. To buy hot dogs and charcoal.

Yeshua stood up in a synagogue there and read a bit from Isaiah which proclaimed the Messiah. He said he was the one Isaiah was talking about. By this time, he had been doing great things in other places, and the Jews in the synagogue asked him about them. He told them a prophet was not without honor except among his own, and he pointed out that Elijah had to perform a miracle on a heathen widow.

At this point, the people who knew him became infuriated–insane–and they tried to throw him off a cliff. God hid him from them, as he hid Lot’s door from the murdering pervert rapists of Sodom, and he just walked away.

How can normal people try to murder an exemplary neighbor after a few minutes of hearing things they don’t like? Insanity is the only explanation. They were like the orderly, responsible, law-abiding Germans and Austrians who lost their minds over a couple of decades and started beating Jews in the streets. No natural cause can explain such things.

Yeshua walked away. Atlas shrugged, if you prefer. He didn’t project a Marvel-style force field around them, hold them in place, and make them listen while he begged, cajoled, and worked miracles. He knew they could not be reached because of their willful insanity.

When do we get to walk away?

In general, I am no longer concerned about people any more. Some individuals, yes, but as a whole, no. My lifelong habit has been to give up caring about things I can’t fix, no matter how bad they are. Is it a fault? You tell me. Perhaps I lack empathy. Or maybe it’s a healthy response that prevents me from harming myself needlessly.

I don’t care if America is destroyed and people suffer like never before, because I can’t stop it. My attitude shocks me.

I would not enjoy seeing it happen. I’m not enjoying seeing the beginnings of it. I feel grief sometimes. But I will never lie awake and soak my pillow with tears over it. It’s not my nature.

I just want to be somewhere else, with the people who can be saved, when things get really bad. THAT, I should be able to manage. If I stay close to God and listen, I’ll get what I want. Because it’s within my capability, I am concerned about it, and I try to make it happen.

People talk a lot about liminal spaces now. The word “liminal” is new to me. A liminal space is a place where people go on their way to another place. An airport. A hallway. A waiting room.

For several years, I have had dreams of airports. Almost always, it’s DFW, which I have probably only visited once. In dreams, I have walked through DFW so many times, I feel like I’ve been there. I got sick of DFW dreams. When I remember the dreams, I have to remind myself they weren’t real. I confuse them with memories of real places. Dream DFW seems just as real in my memory as the real New York City or any other place I’ve lived.

I have asked God to help me not to have airport dreams, because I was so tired of them.

Are my dreams of airports about God? This world is unquestionably a liminal space. No one stays here. It’s a place where we are processed for a short time before going elsewhere.

In jokes, I like to remind my wife that Florida is known as God’s waiting room because of all the old people. Maybe there is more to the joke than I realized. Am I walking toward the gate so I can be flown to the wedding of the lamb? That would sure be nice.

Sometimes I dream I’ve just realized I’m in school, and I haven’t studied or gone to class. I get worried about exams. Then I realize I’m out of school, and I don’t have to do anything. The stress pours out of me. I feel so free. I can depart and leave the other students, who are miserable, behind me. Is God showing me I’m out of Satan’s unproductive rat race? Is it time for me to go my way and leave the rats to it?

In its way, a school is a liminal space. Isn’t the world a school, with a fateful final exam?

Guess I should quit. I can’t sit here and type all night.