You Can Have This Place

Somebody asked if I had quit blogging. I am here to answer the question. I’m still here. I never know how long I’ll leave this site up. Often, I think I should let the hosting account lapse and move on, and I wouldn’t miss blogging much, but on the other hand, it gives me the only significant voice I have in the world. The children of Satan still choke us on social media and in journalism, academia, government, and entertainment. If I quit blogging, almost no one will hear anything I say.

Things are going extremely well for my family and me. We are healthy, we lack for nothing, and our days are full of warmth and joy. By Earth’s standards, it is bizarre.

My cousin is visiting, meaning one part of my formerly-large, formerly-tight family has been restored. I have nearly no hope for the rest, with a tiny number of possible exceptions. We pray in the Spirit as a group, and this seems to be the source of our increasing peace and victory. Her home is in a horrible blue area. She might move here and escape the torment and captivity.

I am up early because I had a dream that keeps recurring in one form or another. In the dream, I suddenly remember that I have been neglecting something I need to do for school. I have a test in a day or two, or a long-term assignment is due tomorrow, and I haven’t been going to class or doing any work at all. I realize it’s too late to drop the class. I decide not to do anything, and at some point, I remember I am not actually in school any more, so I quit worrying about it. That stuff is behind me forever. Not my problem.

Repetitive dreams are often from God. Not always, however.

The dream reminds me of what happened to my wife. When I found her, she was preparing for her bar exam in Zambia. She was procrastinating and wasting time because she had very little desire to continue. This was a source of stress to her. Very quickly, we decided to marry, and soon after that, she quit studying, and things got better. She left it all behind, somewhat like the disciples who abandoned boats full of fish and let them rot.

I married her from a distance. She left Zambia, I brought her here in a business class seat, and since then, she hasn’t known poverty or the annoying trials of Zambian life. The power doesn’t go out every day. She can get good medical and dental care whenever she needs it. Goods and services are readily available here.

She left a miserable country behind and moved to a place that seemed utopian in comparison, to be with a patriarch who looked after her and took away her cares.

If you believe the rapture is coming, you can see the parallels. Yeshua has a fiancee–the church–in a distant country. He communicates with her from a long way off, as I communicated with my wife via video call every day until she moved here. He looks after her. He prepares her to get out. He makes it possible for her to drop the wearisome obligations life in her country entails. Better things are coming.

I feel very detached from this world. The demonic insanity that prevails has alienated me from its victims. A day or two ago, I saw leftist sexual deviants carrying signs at Washington’s reflecting pool, which President Trump has cleaned up and restored after bums used it as a bathtub and toilet for decades. He is battling algae that ruins the pool’s appearance. The leftists were protesting in favor of the algae. One sign read “TEAM ALGAE.” What can you say about a culture like ours? There is no hope at all.

It has become very hard to use absurdity to ridicule the behavior of people who hate God, because their actual behavior has become as absurd as anything we can imagine.

Allowing this age to continue without doing something similar to a violation of Star Trek’s prime directive is, at this point, nothing but enablement. It has reached the point where letting things go on would be cruel to the pagans and nose-ring wearers and other enemies of God. They are breeding just to lead miserable lives and then feed hell.

I had another dream tonight. It was very odd.

I was outside working on something on the ground. I think I was repairing pavement. I believe others were with me.

Menachem Schneerson, the late Lubavitcher Rebbe, rolled up in a black limousine sort of like a late-Sixties Lincoln. He was in the backseat on the left, and he rolled down his window. He was looking to see what we were doing. Whatever I was doing somehow benefited Israel, and he therefore thought I was a Jew.

I said we were gentiles. He said, “Oh, good. NIGGERS are praying for us now.” He was sarcastic. He was referring to gentiles, not black people.

I told him I would always support the Jews and Israel. I was happy to be doing what I was doing. I was not angry at him, but I was disappointed. If I could use words to express how I felt, they would be, “What on Earth is wrong with him?” I couldn’t understand his attitude.

He drove off. There was no point in talking to him. I couldn’t do anything for him.

I don’t think I have ever dreamed about a rabbi before. I have never heard of Schneerson saying anything racist. I don’t know much about him, but I’m sure he would never have said anything like what he said in the dream. I suppose he must have represented a spirit.

I would like nothing better than to see the rapture come. I hope this is what the repetitive dream is about. I would definitely like to see the Messianic age begin. The world is disgusting. It is like a dangerous ghetto. The inhabitants are scary and unsafe to be around. Hateful spirits drive the masses more than ever. We are supposed to be good to each other, but we fight and compete constantly, and very little that we build lasts.

My wife and I often pray that God will help us to know when the rapture is coming. Yeshua said no one knew the day or hour, but he never said we would not know the week, month, season, or year, and he was angry at the Jews of his time for failing to know he was coming. He obviously expects us to have the time of the rapture narrowed down to some extent. I hope these dreams are his answers to our prayers for information.