I Just Want 5 Minutes Alone With This Jerk

God told me something the other day, so I will pass it on today. I was putting groceries in the car and thinking about something unpleasant I had to deal with, and I heard, “I am tasting my own punishment.”

What this means is that I, myself, ordained the problem I was going through. I didn’t wave a scepter and say, “On May 1, 2018, because of this unrighteous act or thought I had on an earlier date, I will have to perform the following unpleasant duty and be inconvenienced.” I didn’t do that, but it was as though I had. I had failed God in various ways, of my own free will, and it was catching up to me.

I was dealing with one of my dad’s dental appointments, if you want to know. I had to drive him to the dentist, sit in the waiting room during a cleaning that took forever, listen to a boring report from the hygienist, receive burdensome instructions from her, take my dad to the grocery store, and then drive home. I was told to make sure my dad did certain things when he flossed, so now I have a new, perpetual duty which will not be easy to perform.

Telling my dad to do anything was nearly impossible when he had all his faculties. Now it’s worse. If he wants to cooperate, he may remember to do it. If he doesn’t want to cooperate, he will forget every day, over and over.

I realized my burdens would continue to increase as long as my dad lived. That’s daunting. Presumably, right now, things are better than they will ever be during his future. At least until he has to go to an assisted living home.

Where would I be, had I listened to God back in the 1980’s? I would have built a better foundation. I would have a wife to help me with my problems. I would have fewer problems to begin with. I would have better supernatural weapons to fight my problems. I would not be a caregiver for a person who hates Christianity and contemns God.

God blesses people who obey him, and he gives them lives of victory and peace. He doesn’t heap burdens on them. We heap them on ourselves.

Sometimes my dad says he’s sorry I have to deal with his problems. I’m not sure why he does that. Maybe it’s because he didn’t get involved with his mother’s care when she started to decline. It may be that he would be extremely resentful if he were in my position, so he assumes I am resentful, too. I do experience a certain amount of momentary resentment on occasion, because his attitude is often poor and because he put himself in his current situation through a lifetime of deliberate choices. Overall, however, I see what I do for him as necessary, and I never complain about anything except when he does things that make my job harder.

I don’t hate my situation, and I don’t think he should apologize when I have to do things for him.

His mother had a hereditary aorta deformity that resulted in an aneurysm. It ballooned up, and stagnant blood accumulated in it. Somehow this caused neurological problems in her lower body. They fixed the aneurysm, but she had to have her legs amputated, and not long after, she died. I don’t know too much about it. I didn’t go to her funeral. I suppose I should have, but I felt very detached from her. It was like hearing that a neighbor’s mother had died.

I just looked up the date, because I didn’t remember when she died. That shows how little she was involved with me. She didn’t send Christmas or birthday gifts to my sister or me.

I am not close to my dad’s family. They have had very little to do with us over the years, and my dad didn’t show much interest in reaching out. Later in life, he started to take them on occasional fishing trips, but in all honesty, I think that happened because they wanted things from him. He had a big boat in Miami, and he had done well for himself, so he provided the opportunity for free vacations. It may also be that they hoped for some recognition in his will. I believe that had he been less prosperous, we would heard almost nothing from them. We used to go multiple years without hearing a peep. I suspect that he invited them on trips partly to show off.

Here’s a story. My dad owned a beach house on the gulf. He invited his relatives to visit. They arrived before my parents did. When my parents showed up, the house was full of groceries.

My aunt and uncle gave my dad the grocery bill. They had saved it for him. My mother never got over that.

Another story. My grandmother was a widow when she died. She had a few possessions. My dad’s relatives went to her apartment and cleaned it out. We received two items chosen by the relatives: a crystal angel and a porcelain horse. These had been gifts from my dad. My mother put them in front of me, told me they were our inheritance, and told me to pick one. You can find the same angel on Ebay for under $35. I only keep it because I would feel guilty if I threw it out.

My dad paid for the funeral.

I like my dad’s family for the most part, but I am aware that his relationship with them is very bad. They would probably disagree, because the relationship is cordial, but anyone who has a healthy relationship with relatives should be able to tell the situation I’m describing is abnormal.

My dad has a married sister, and he had another sister who died following a period of dementia. I can’t name all of my first cousins from the second sister and her husband. I don’t know where they live. I don’t know how many kids they have or what their names are. At least one of the sons is dead. I didn’t go to the funeral. I know the other sister’s son died many years ago. I didn’t go to his funeral, either. He has a sister. I don’t know her married name. I don’t want to look her up or get to know her. It would be awkward.

I’m digressing.

My relationship with my mother’s family was good, so I have some notion of duty to kin. When your demented father has to go to the dentist, or his bathroom has to be cleaned, you don’t run off and hide in a strip club. You don’t berate him or expect him to grovel, either.

Would I do these things for my remaining aunt? No. She would not expect it, and I am no closer to her than a stranger who works at a nursing home.

I’m not a martyr. That’s where I’m going with this. Things aren’t that bad. At the same time, things are not what they should have been, and I am to blame. If I had been aligned with God at an earlier age, I would be somewhere else, doing different things, with different people around me.

A friend of mine didn’t get to know God until she was middle-aged. She doesn’t have any kids. That was a choice she made. She regrets it now. She says God told her, “You are not late.” That must be a nice thing to hear. I am late. I acknowledge it without reservation. I am very late. God doesn’t have an obligation to turn back the clock and give me another chance. I’m glad he’s willing to help me make the most of the leftovers that remain.

Mary Isn’t Alone

I watch Youtube for religious purposes, and Youtube’s algorithms keep recommending videos it thinks a person with my interest in God would like. I see a lot of recommendations for videos from One for Israel, a Messianic Jewish organization. A lot of them feature debate intended to debunk the anti-missionary arguments of mainstream Jews.

I am leery of getting drawn into the debate-centered approach to Christianity. Generally, it’s boring and carnal, and it’s a heavy-duty time suck. Still, I do end up watching some of One for Israel’s material. Their videos are generally fast-paced, and many of them are testimonies, not debate.

Their videos are real eye-openers. They are produced by Jews, and they are aimed at Jews. This means they provide a Jewish perspective on Christianity and Judaism, and they reveal a lot of things Gentiles generally are not aware of.

Yesterday I saw a remarkable video about mainstream Orthodox Jews who pray to dead people. I thought this was a Catholic/Anglican/Orthodox thing, but it looks like many Jews do it, too.

Long ago, there was a respected Jewish sage named Bar Yochai. I know practically nothing about him. I do know he’s dead. He was a kabbalist, which means he studied bizarre Jewish mysticism. Like Madonna, only presumably with smarter teachers. Religious Jews go his tomb, set fires, dance, and pray to him for help.

This is remarkable. Remember what happened to Saul for communicating with the dead? It wasn’t good. Communicating with the dead is a sin according to the books of Moses. The Bible says people who do it are detestable to God.

You can go to a website and pay Jews to take your prayers to Bar Yochai’s tomb. Look it up. No joke.

The notion of asking dead people for help is disturbing to me. These people are lobbyists. Like the lobbyists in politics, they supposedly have superior connections to an individual in power, and they use their influence on behalf of others. Can you imagine anyone thinking heaven has lobbyists?

If you’re Catholic, you probably can. I should not have asked the question.

I remember a testimony from a person who said he visited hell. He said he could hear all the thoughts and feelings of the spirits around him, even though they were countless. I think he was telling the truth, and I think God can hear like that, too. I don’t think God is only capable of listening to one person at a time. I believe he can hear you just fine without an attorney to come before him on your behalf.

The Bible confirms this. It says God is near to all who call on him.

I have dead ancestors in heaven. Do I really need to prompt them? If they have any ability to influence God on my behalf, aren’t they doing it already? Unlike me, they are now perfect beings with perfect hearts. It’s a little presumptuous of me to assume they aren’t helping me in every way they can.

If I were in heaven, and I had a son or daughter who needed help on earth, and I were permitted to talk to God about it, I would do so without being asked. Common sense, right?

Here’s something interesting about this. Jesus told the common people of his time that the religious leaders were whitewashed tombs full of dead men’s bones. Now, in at least one case, his words are literally true!

There are Jews who worship a rabbi who died recently. His name is Menachem Schneerson, and he was the leader of a sect called the Lubavitchers. They thought he might qualify to be the messiah. Then he died without changing the world. This was a big blow, because one of the talking points they use against missionaries is the assertion that the messiah can’t die before accomplishing his mission. They say that if Jesus were the messiah, he would have brought peace on earth while he lived.

Schneerson died almost 24 years ago, and some of his followers won’t let him go. They call him “messiah” and pray to his dead body. It has caused a schism among the Orthodox.

Orthodox Jews say the messiah won’t be divine, so it’s weird that any would pray to this man.

Jesus died, but he’s quite a bit different. He’s not your typical dead person. He wasn’t buried (after the resurrection). He manifests himself to people all the time. He visited me twice. He showed himself to dozens of people before he ascended. Praying to Jesus is fine.

Interesting stuff.

I saw another neat video. In it, One for Israel addresses a common criticism of Christianity. People ask why prominent rabbis, whom they respect, haven’t accepted Jesus. Answer: they have. But once they accept him, they cease to be respected rabbis, and according to the current regime, they cease to be Jews at all.

This reminds me of the propaganda gays put out. Clergymen who rape boys aren’t homosexuals! They’re “ephebophiles” (who commit homosexual rape). Prison rapists and other men who have perverted sex supposedly aren’t homosexuals, either. Bad people can’t be homosexuals, apparently. People who think Jesus is divine can’t be Jews. They are transformed into Gentiles, instantly.

Here’s an example. Daniel Zion was a respected rabbi in Bulgaria. He persuaded the king not to give Bulgaria’s Jews to Hitler, so they were not exterminated. That makes him a hero of Judaism, but it’s also awkward, because he believed in Jesus. As a believer, he can’t be a rabbi or a Jew.

Why don’t more people know about him? In 1949, rabbis in Israel declared him insane. The reason? He believed in Jesus and still wanted to be a rabbi.

That’s some catch, that catch-22! He got the bum’s rush when he converted. You can’t be a major rabbi who believes in Jesus, because a major rabbi who believes in Jesus is insane, and insane people have to be removed from their positions.

The Soviet Union used to use this tactic on dissidents. They put them in mental asylums. They had a point. In the USSR, you had to be nuts to take on the government.

That was humor. It’s an old joke. They were not crazy.

The video provides a list of other rabbis who believed. Such people have their careers terminated, and they lose their influence. How can anyone complain about the absence of knowledgeable Messianic rabbis when it is literally impossible for a Messianic to remain a rabbi?

I find the whole thing fascinating, because it lines up with my new understanding of the way supernatural beings work to erase their enemies on earth. It’s not enough to punch someone in the face, take away his wealth, give him a disease, or put him in prison. You have to destroy his reputation, and, if possible, arrange it so future generations have no idea who he is.

Of Jesus, Maimonides used to say, “May his bones be ground to dust.” The bones of the dead proved the dead had existed. They were preserved. Jews were not permitted to destroy them. Many religious Jews have called Jesus “Yeshu,” which means, “May his name and memory be blotted out forever.”

Like Elijah, Jesus still has his bones. He ascended. It would be hard to grind them at this stage.

Satan concealed the evidence of the millions of Jews who followed Moses in the desert. He tried to get rid of the bones of all Jews during the Holocaust. He goes after the reputations and memories of Jews who accept Jesus. He gets Christians fired from positions of power.

You should watch the testimonies of Jews who convert. Their families don’t just disagree with them. They say they’re dead. Often they pretend they don’t exist.

This is the future of Christians in America. We’re headed the same way. We deny Jesus all the time, and we punish his people. We deny him every time we support homosexuality in order to get along with people or protect our wealth.

Debating about this stuff is not very productive. Either God opens your eyes, or he doesn’t. If your eyes and ears are closed, all the proof in the world won’t matter. Pharaoh rejected God even after the many miracles of Moses and the ten plagues. I do not debate with people. But I do try to speak the truth even if it bothers them. The fact that you are offended by what I say does not mean I’ve done anything wrong.

A friend of mine told me God showed her that she wasn’t supposed to concern herself about how people dealt with the things he told her to say to them. That’s their problem. God’s children just deliver the mail. What you do with it once we give it to you is 100% on you.

I don’t know if One for Israel is accomplishing anything with its somewhat argumentative videos, but the information is important.

Good Marksmanship Comes Easy When You Can Shoot in Your Living Room

I got back to shooting today, and I got pleasing results.

A while back, I bought a Smith & Wesson SW22 pistol for target practice. Apart from dealing with noise and recoil, there is nothing you can learn from a .45 ACP that you can’t learn from shooting cheap .22 rounds.

My first effort was not good. I think I posted a target photo here. Today things got somewhat better.

I was concerned because I was using Remington Golden Bullets, which are ridiculed all over the web. My hope was that even bad ammunition would group well at 7 yards. Today I got confirmation. I don’t know how well Golden Bullets will shoot at longer distances, because distance exposes ammunition problems, but at 7 yards, I see no reason to spend more money. It appears that if I were really shooting well, I would be keeping most rounds in an area the size of a half dollar, and until I learn otherwise, I believe that will suffice. My guess is that I could not shoot better than that right now with a perfect gun and perfect ammunition.

Here is today’s target. I shot 40 rounds at the center of it, and then I shot 10 rounds below. The first group is okay, with a few serious flyers. The second group is much better, with only one real flyer.

I felt wobbly today. The front sight seemed to dance a lot. I think that may have something to do with lifting weights not long before I shot. Anyway, I did not feel good at all, but things worked out all the same.

While I was shooting the first group, I noticed problems with my technique, and I cleaned them up to some extent. I assume this is why the second group is so much better.

Large groups are always worse than small ones, but my first 10 shots at the center of the target were not as good as the 10 shots I aimed lower down.

It appears that my shots group around points about 1/2″ high and maybe 3/8″ to the right of the point of aim. I am always reluctant to fool with pistol sights, because if you have a technique issue that consistently pulls you in a certain direction, you may end up adjusting the sights to match your bad technique instead of improving. I think I’ve shot this pistol enough to conclude that my sights need a little nudge.

This is pretty cool. I can shoot 90 seconds from my back door, there are no inexperienced maniacs around me who could shoot me at any minute, there are no rude range officers puffing their chests and generally being tactical, I can do rapid fire or anything else I want, and I don’t have to wait and do nothing while the line is safe.

Take that, Miami. In your face. Or cada or whatever. In su cada, baby!

If I start thinking the ammunition is limiting me, I’ll have to experiment and see what the gun likes better. I hope that happens, because if it does, it means I have more potential than I thought.

It would be REALLY neat to get a bucket of cheap rounds and practice shooting without the sights, like the Navy SEALS. My neighbors would hate me, I guess. I would go through a hundred rounds per session. But according to Richard Marcinko, the king of bad boy SEALS, it’s a great way to practice. If you can shoot a perp without aiming, you will be way WAY faster than the criminals you have to ventilate.

It’s a very reasonable aspiration. It works. I used to practice that kind of shooting with a CO2 pistol, but I let it go because the pistol shot to one side. You get what you pay for. Now I can do it with a real gun.

I hope I can put targets better than this one up in May. That would be neat.

Wherever the Body is, There the Vultures Will be Gathered Together

I wonder if other conservative bloggers are writing about Michelle Wolf.

I won’t check, because I don’t do blogs any more. I don’t read them or link to them. It’s not a rule. I just find the whole thing boring. They don’t link to me, either. I assume people lost all desire to be associated with me when I started writing about God. That’s what happened with my real-life friends, and it makes sense that bloggers would behave the same way.

That’s a good thing, though, because I don’t have much in common with political bloggers now. They would just exert a counterproductive pull on me. We’re not supposed to be unequally yoked with unbelievers (or backsliders), so it would be foolish to try to keep pre-repentance relationships at the same levels at which they originally functioned.

Michelle Wolf is a comedian. I never saw her before this weekend. She appears (or appeared) as a regular on The Daily Show, which may explain my lack of familiarity.

TV talk show comedians behave very bizarrely these days. They spend a huge amount of time savaging the President, conservatives, and Christians, with extremely serious intent. Uninformed people treat them like pundits and legitimate sources of information. Then when the comedians are held accountable, they say, “Why are you bothering me? I’m just a comedian!”

Pretty cowardly!

“Live by the sword, die by the sword, you hypocrites.” That’s the message I would send them.

Wolf appeared at the annual White House correspondents’ dinner. I’m not using capitals because I’m not sure if that’s the official name of the event. She generated a Youtube about 20 minutes long. She spoke for quite a while.

It’s not clear to me why she was chosen. Maybe Stephen Colbert and the other high-profile talk show comics weren’t available. Maybe they won’t take the gig because President Trump doesn’t show up.

In the past, presidents have attended the dinner. Republicans attended out of a strange sense of duty. Democrats attended in order to be worshiped; it was not a hard decision for them. Trump doesn’t go, and I support his decision 100%. I have never understood why favor-currying conservatives go to events where they stand no chance of being treated civilly. They show up at events like this, hoping to be admired for courage and fairness, and they end up looking like idiots, trying to seem like they’re not offended and laughing insincerely while being showered with abuse.

Ann Coulter made the inexplicable decision to attend a celebrity roast. I think the victim was Rob Lowe. Maybe it was Chevy Chase. Anyway, you can guess what happened. The tormented souls who spoke at the show spent a huge percentage of the time ignoring the guest of honor and spewing bile at Coulter. Then many of them refused to laugh at her jokes, trying to make her look like a flop. Then our unbiased, fact-driven news industry completed the assassination by asserting that she did, in fact, bomb.

After the event, Coulter complained about the mean spirit of the event. What? It was a roast, not a prayer vigil. Forty years ago, roasts were good-natured productions during which people who seemed to like the guests of honor said mildly provocative things about them. That’s not how it works now. A modern roast generally consists of a stream of gutter comics with floundering careers, heaping vile abuse on celebrities they don’t care about and sometimes hate.

I knew roasts were disgusting. Somehow Ann Coulter was surprised. And TV is a huge part of her job!

It doesn’t pay to spend excessive time in the company of people who want to destroy you. That is common sense. It’s true that refusing to appear at the correspondents’ dinner could be expected to make journalists angry. Is that something Trump needs to worry about? It’s like Netanyahu worrying that Mahmoud Abbas will be angry if he doesn’t send him a card on Ramadan. They already hate Trump. They can’t hate him any more than they already do, and they are already doing their best to ruin his life.

Bush II worked way too hard to appease the left (probably because he’s a bit of a leftist in his personal life) and it always made him look foolish.

I just Googled to see who has appeared in the past, and the dinner doesn’t seem to attract big-time comics. It appears they never get a big name. Not lately, anyway. Since 2015, they’ve had three minor Comedy Central figures (“minor Comedy Central figures” seems redundant) and one lesser SNL alumna.

Now that Trump doesn’t go, one would expect the dinner to be even less attractive. When an adversary shows up at an event the President snubs, it makes him or her look like a jilted ex-girlfriend, sitting alone at a restaurant with a photo of the oblivious man who moved on to greener pastures. Only Clint Eastwood can make that work.

I’ll bet agents and managers advise bigger comedians not to go.

That would certainly explain how Wolf ended up in front of the cameras.

Here’s the big story: Wolf’s act was revolting. I watched a little. It was gross. It was annoying to watch, but I also felt embarrassed for her. Her material, much of which was weak as comedy, was obscene.

Every man has known an otherwise-attractive girl who repelled people with trashy or sexually explicit talk. A lot of young women try to ingratiate themselves with young men by trying to duplicate their locker room talk, and they sometimes do it so clumsily and excessively, it drives men away. Men laugh about them behind their backs. Women like that come across as needy and mentally unstable. That’s the feeling you will get if you watch Michelle Wolf. She shot for Ricky Gervais and hit Andy Dick.

There are some women no self-respecting man are willing to escort, simply because of the potential for embarrassment.

The journalists supported her. They laughed and played along. Why? Because they are hard, cynical people, and Michelle Wolf’s degrading performance is a taste of the America they hope to create. In their vision for America, this is how the correspondents’ dinner should be. Decency is something they don’t understand, although they mimic a sense of decency whenever they talk about a conservative’s sexual sins.

When you look at Wolf’s monologue, you are looking through a time portal. This is how people will speak at all sorts of public events in the near future, and our journalists will find it “refreshing” and “honest.”

Where did America go? It’s gone. Remember the place where you could sit through a TV show with your grandmother and not hear slang terms for genitalia? Remember when it was illegal to appear nude on the sidewalk in Times Square? America has never been a truly clean and moral country, but there used to be a lot of lines we didn’t cross. Not any more. Now a young woman with a college education can be paid to speak like a common whore at a televised function full of people who should be dignitaries.

That’s how things are in April of 2018, and things will never be this good again. They will continue to worsen.

God keeps showing me things about the culture I’ve absorbed and made part of myself. I’m partly responsible for Michelle Wolf. I worked hard to cultivate a dark sense of humor and to disseminate its fruit. I strove to say the vilest things I could imagine, especially in private. I even said these things to myself inwardly when I was alone and there was no one around to impress. You become what you imitate.

I listened to vile music created and played by vile, degraded people. I watched, approvingly, the filthiest comedians. I packed garbage and rot into myself as hard as I could. I even wanted to become part of the excrement distribution apparatus. I sent applications and material to TV shows. I made some disturbing podcasts. I wrote books with regrettable language in them. Thank God no one who was capable of promoting me successfully noticed my abilities. I could have ended up like Andrew Dice Clay or Kathy Griffin, poisoned by self-worship and the illusion of success. I would never have stopped. I would have propelled myself to greater depths.

It’s terrible when people succeed at things that destroy them. Elvis fell off a toilet and died exposed on the bathroom floor, obese, tormented, and full of drugs. Michael Jackson withered away and became increasingly eccentric and perverted until he had to be drugged in order to rest, and then he died in disgrace. Bill Cosby was given a free pass by the liberal press for decades while he had his way with sedated women and destroyed their lives, and now he may very well die in prison. Kurt Cobain, Jimi Hendrix, Liberace, Hunter Thompson, Chris Farley, John Belushi, Howard Hughes…the devil’s talented proteges often don’t end well.

I used to feel like I had come a long way in the kingdom of God, but these days I feel like I’ve barely started. I’m still full of worldly ideas and desires. The contamination of the world occurs in layers, and I’ve only scraped off a few. The better I get, the more I see how bad I am!

When God shows me the evil in myself, I am better able to see the evil around me, and I become more disconcerted by the condition of the world. Things are much worse than we realize. Jesus wasn’t kidding; Satan truly is the god of this world, and he is now the god of America, not just places like India and Sudan. Decency appalls us. We are ashamed of it. We think evil is cute. We sponsor it just as hard as we can. Look how any people watch the Kardashians and listen to rap. America made Lena Dunham rich. If that doesn’t make you want to throw up, what will?

This morning in prayer, I kept thinking how I missed heaven, even though I had never been there. I want to be in a place of love and peace. America is immersed in an unending storm of cruelty and arrogance. The winds never die down. I am sick of it. But I earned my place here. At the moment, I can’t say I belong anywhere else.

What crass horrors will we witness before the next correspondents’ dinner? You have to wonder. The preceding year was worse than the one before, and that one was worse than the one that preceded it. All sorts of debased spectacles are hidden in the wings, waiting to be pushed onstage.

How can we fix this nation for God when we already think we’re doing great? How can you treat a disease if you think pus and scabs are healthy flesh? I’ve been praying and asking for correction for a long time, and I’m still a mess, so I wonder what hope there is for people who want absolutely nothing to do with God.

I don’t think better times are coming. The supernatural balance of power has moved too far in the direction of evil. A positive feedback loop has been set up, and we are reinforcing our faults too strongly to be expected to recover.

All I can tell you is that you should look out for yourself and the people you can reach. Some Christians say those who believe the age is coming to an end accuse feel-good, optimistic Christians of rearranging chairs on the Titanic. I suppose we do. To extend the metaphor, it seems to me that our own job is to hand out life preservers. The ship is definitely going down, and most people will sink with it, but there are still a lot of individuals who can be saved.

I don’t know if I should go live in a hole or what. The cultural gangrene is closing up over our heads.

Your Cousin’s Fraudulent DNA Test May Be Your Downfall

I always say the end of free will is near. The government and the tech industry are destroying privacy, and privacy is essential to the exercise of free will. If someone is always looking over your shoulder, and you know it, there will be many things you simply can’t do.

God created the world to be a place where people could get away with evil, at least in the short run, because freedom to do evil is essential to free will. Man is making it harder and harder for us to do evil and for us to do things that are not evil yet for which we would be punished anyway.

Here’s a great example of the things mankind is doing to destroy free will. DNA-testing companies are giving customers’ information to the cops, so if your dad took a test for fun, and you’re a burglar who left a cigarette butt at a crime scene, the law may get your dad’s information and use it to locate you.

It sounds like I’m standing up for burglary, but I chose that example out of a hat. The DNA trap could get you if you do something good, which the government doesn’t want you to do.

The fundamental premise of leftism is a perverted reflection of the fundamental premise of Christianity. We believe everything God does is good. They believe everything the government does is good. I exaggerate; they’re against certain governmental actions. But they trust the government to take care of us, and they think privacy is outmoded. They think we should all belong to a communal organism and share information with each other like cells in a body. They say things like, “If you have nothing to hide, you shouldn’t mind.”

That’s the sort of thing the Nazis used to say when they searched homes. The fact that you can’t make them understand the fascist nature of their stance shows how deluded they are and how little they know about history.

Leftists don’t like privacy, and leftists are more powerful than the rest of us, so privacy is going to vanish whether we like it or not.

The amazing thing about the DNA story is that you don’t have to be involved in order to get nailed. Related people share lots of DNA. The government doesn’t need your DNA to find you. They just need a relative’s DNA. When they find the relative, they look at his family, and you’re done.

It’s a lot like Google Contacts. Even if you don’t give them your phone number, someone else will. They’ll put your name in their list. Then Google has it, even if your number is unlisted.

My dad has a Facebook account. I looked at it, and Facebook was suggesting he “friend” a tenant. Why did Facebook think he wanted to do that? I figured it out. Facebook has his email address. It has her email address. It knows they have corresponded. It thinks they might be friends. Maybe the cops will call my dad if she knocks over a liquor store.

It’s a wonder any crime goes unsolved these days, with all the information the cops can access. They can get the DNA stuff. They can get cell records to tell them where you’ve been. There are toll records that keep track of your car’s location. There are mysterious, unlabeled sensors beside our major highways. There are cameras on many traffic lights. Lots of private businesses have cameras that face out. I’m not sure why cops ever leave the office.

I believe the feds are letting criminals go in order to conceal their data-mining power. I believe the feds and possibly state cops locate many criminals very quickly, using illegally obtained data, and then they refrain from apprehending them until they can concoct alternate explanations for their successful manhunts.

Often they’re open about using new data sources to capture people, but I’m sure there are many cases in which they kept things under wraps because their methods were too outrageous for public consumption. There are probably many cases in which they chose not to pursue criminals because there was no plausible way to explain how they were caught.

It’s human nature. Human nature is like gravity. You can’t fight it. It always prevails in the end. Hospital employees stole George Clooney’s medical records for fun. Someone leaked part of Donald Trump’s tax return. Put people in charge of sensitive information, and some of them will abuse the power.

A sad sidelight on the story: DNA tests are garbage. You send them your dried spit, and they tell you you’re half Italian and half Polish. Then you send the same spit to another company, and suddenly you’re Irish. The tests give the same DNA different results, so when your little cousin does one as part of a history project, she does nothing of value for herself, and she puts the rest of the family in a giant database the government doesn’t have to pay to build or maintain.

The tests are worthless for telling you where your ancestors came from, but they’re great for telling the cops who your relatives are.

A friend of mine was arrested because he drove a car with no registration. It was dark. Traffic was light. He wasn’t doing anything to attract attention. A cop caught him anyway. Why? The cop had a scanner that looked for tags the system had flagged. Think you’re safe because the little decal in the corner of your tag is too small for cops to pay attention to? Think again. Machinery is doing their work for them.

My friend wanted to move the car 20 miles so he could work on it at home and get it licensed. He couldn’t afford a tow truck. He only intended to drive the car illegally once, when traffic was light. He ended up with big legal troubles. He didn’t know he was under surveillance every time he got on the road.

I wonder where I’d be if the government had caught me every time I did something illegal. I’d be in solitary for the rest of my life as a repeat offender. Speeding: 20000 offenses. Parking illegally: 1000 offenses. Blowing up a dead chicken in a public place as a prank: 1 offense. Various littering charges. Putting questionable materials in dumpsters. Crimes involving fireworks. Picking my feet in Poughkeepsie. I’d never see the light of day again.

In the future, everyone will have to be perfect, all the time. That will be interesting.

There’s nothing we can do about it, but I suppose it’s good to be informed.

Wonder What Ward Cleaver was Hiding

The world has gone completely nuts. Bruce Jenner is a woman, and Bill Cosby is a convicted rapist.

He was not convicted of “rape.” The language of the law is not the same as the language of everyday life. Cosby was convicted of “indecent aggravated assault.” According to the relevant Pennsylvania statute, this means he penetrated someone who didn’t consent or who didn’t have the ability to consent (unconscious, underage, etcetera).

It appears Pennsylvania doesn’t have a statutory crime called “rape,” and that “indecent aggravated assault” is the term they use. I’m not a criminal lawyer, so I don’t know all that much about criminal offense nomenclature. I know someone who is accused of raping a child, and the charge in his case is “lewd and lascivious molestation.” I don’t know if any jurisdiction has a crime called “rape.”

Anyway, “rapist” is the correct term, based on the Pennsylvania statute. Penetration without consent is rape.

Journalists all over the US are now relieved that they don’t have to type the word “alleged” over and over when discussing Cosby. They can just say “rape,” “raped,” and “rapist.” Cosby can’t sue them for defamation. Not that he would. He didn’t sue obscure comedian Hannibal Buress when he started the snowball rolling by saying Cosby was a rapist.

Remember that? It’s interesting to consider it, because it reveals the true cause of the Cosby prosecutions. Rape wasn’t the problem. He had gotten away with rape, and he was enjoying a peaceful old age, to be followed by a quiet death and a huge public funeral full of weeping and praise. The problem was that Bill Cosby criticized young black people for behaving badly. He said young black men needed to pull their pants up. That’s what set Buress off, and Buress got people Googling. Then the public turned on Cosby, and up popped Gloria Allred and the rest.

Here’s what Buress said:

“Pull your pants up, black people, I was on TV in the ’80s. I can talk down to you because I had a successful sitcom.”

Yeah, but you raped women, Bill Cosby. So, brings you down a couple notches.

Oddly, Cosby’s problems weren’t the start of the #MeToo movement. Buress called him out in 2014, and #MeToo started in 2017, with Harvey Weinstein. Somehow a billionaire or near-billionaire entertainer got called out for something many, many people in his business were doing, and everyone else kept on groping and molesting. There was no groundswell of accusation or repentance.

If Bill Cosby had joined Occupy Wall Street and Black Lives Matter, and if he had spent his weekends raging at white people through a bullhorn, would he be a convicted felon right now? No. I’m sure of it. People knew he abused women, and they weren’t upset enough to do anything about it. Almost no one cared until he ran off from the victimhood-establishment plantation.

Cosby was safe until he turned on people who assumed that, as a black man, he was a true victimhood believer. He broke with the left on an issue, so he got pummeled. That’s normal. Somehow Weinstein got nailed while he was still out there bloviating about gun control and every other ill-conceived leftist notion imaginable. That’s not as normal. And Weinstein was even more powerful than Cosby, so you would think he would be harder to take down.

Maybe the attacks on Cosby softened the targets that succeeded him.

I had no idea Cosby had done bad things when I heard about Hannibal Buress. I didn’t know Andrea Constand had sued him in 2005, even though the news had been on the web. The big-time press must have ignored it, just as they’ve ignored Al Sharpton’s defamation, his incitement of rioting, his refusal to pay his just debts, and his tax evasion.

Buress isn’t happy that he became the face of the Cosby posse. I don’t know what he expected, since he made the accusations in more than one appearance. I suppose he must have had some very lonely times since the avalanche started. A lot of black people will support any successful black person who is accused of a crime, and they will not be kind to whistleblowers. I know a lot of black people, and they tend to defend such individuals and try to prove white criminals get much better treatment.

Some black people complain because Dylann Roof was arrested peacefully while a number of black criminals have been killed during apprehension. They fail to take note of the fact that Roof surrendered without any resistance. That makes a difference.

It doesn’t ALWAYS make a difference. A very violent black criminal named Markeith Loyd was arrested while crawling to the cops on his belly, and one kicked him in the face and crushed his eye. A chopper was shooting video, and the camera operator zoomed way out and moved off of Loyd as soon as the beating started.

Anyway, there have probably been a lot of parties Buress wasn’t invited to.

It’s very sad to see someone Cosby’s age, who was formerly respected and admired, go out like this. He’s going to appeal, but he’ll probably lose, and he is still open to all sorts of civil litigation. His status as a proven rapist will make those cases easier to lose.

Remember how we used to see him? I didn’t enjoy his show because when I watched it, I felt I was being beaten with a PC strap (“Black people can be rich and intelligent! Moms are smarter than dads! Kids are smarter than dads! New York is a great place to live! New Yorkers know more than everyone else!”), but generally, Americans loved him and thought highly of him. In retrospect, he looks very different, and it’s disturbing that he chose to play a gynecologist.

It’s amazing how short-sighted and evil we can be when the Holy Spirit isn’t guiding us. Cosby is an intelligent, talented man, yet he established a lifelong pattern of a type of abuse which is not only cruel and prurient, but cowardly. It is extremely disgraceful. He was also extremely reckless. You can’t do what he did, over and over, and not expect repercussions. I can’t believe he made his bad decisions on his own. He has to have spirits egging him on. No functional human being is that crazy without help.

I’ve done things I can barely believe I did. I know what it’s like to do something so stupid you look back on it and can’t understand what was going through your own mind.

Weinstein is probably next. He has a trail of accusers, and the cops are actively preparing at least one case.

Tough Afternoon

Today I spent a huge amount of time praying in tongues and reading Christian material. I am determined to have peace, and the price is prayer time.

In the afternoon, I fired up the tractor and enjoyed the outdoors. I’m still amazed that I live here. Back in Miami, I would be hiding from the world around me, trying to distract myself from my surroundings. I didn’t like going outdoors because I didn’t really want anything to do with my neighbors. Also, it was hot. Here, I embrace my environment.

Here’s the view over the top of the tractor.

I bush-hogged a bunch of weeds at the east end of the big pasture, and I moved a whole bunch of oak branches to the burn pile. Some of this stuff is from Irma, and some fell later. The pile is enormous. I’m somewhat less eager to light it these days. Setting fire to the pasture made me realize I’m better off burning debris when I have help. It’s best to have one person to watch the fire and one person to go get more limbs.

Look at the burn pile. I think this is a new record.

The weather is wonderful. I wish we were still having 65-degree days, but it’s still better than Miami. Down there, the temperature is 82. Up here, it’s 73, breezy, and comparatively dry. Tonight we will drop to a pleasant 56.

Shear Coincidence

Something weird happened in the wee hours of yesterday morning. I had a strange dream, followed by a strange event.

I always have strange dreams. Last night I dreamed I was acting in a film about an Italian family. I think I was playing an older male. Possibly an uncle. I don’t remember the details of the film, but I know it was your typical Hollywood non-Mafia Italian tripe. All the family members were eccentric and frantic. They talked with their hands and couldn’t shut up. It was a little like Moonstruck.

In the film, I was about 70, and I looked nothing like myself.

Night before last, I dreamed I had a cyst on my back, and it was a whopper. Imagine half a golf ball shoved under your skin. In the dream, I was lying in bed when I discovered the cyst. I reached behind myself and felt it. I started grabbing it and wrestling with it. I think I tried to squeeze the contents out. The cyst came loose from my body but stayed under my skin, and I pushed it down my side until it disappeared somewhere low in my abdominal cavity. I was concerned that it would come back, because it was still in me somewhere.

The strange part follows. After I woke up, I happened to touch my neck, and I couldn’t find a little cyst that had been with me since the age of 16. I wasn’t thinking about the dream. I didn’t remember the dream until I touched my neck. When I felt my neck, I thought God had healed me.

Then later on, I found the cyst again. It was very small, but it was there.

Does the dream have meaning? I do not know, but it’s strange that the thing with my neck happened the same day.

Coincidentally (or not), while I was looking at Christian material on Youtube later in the day, I saw that Tom Fischer had a video in which he healed someone of a cyst. A young woman had a cyst on her back. He said something peculiar: problems in the area of the back are often associated with worry about money.

I assume he must know something, because he has been traveling the world healing people free of charge for something like 8 years.

I do worry about money. I hate worry, and I fight it supernaturally and get free of it for long periods, but it comes back. I’ve been put in charge of everything my dad has, and I was already in charge of what I had. If there is ever a financial problem, it’s on me.

There is absolutely no reason to worry, because we have more than we need (and when you know God, there is never a reason to worry), but right now we have some real estate I want to get rid of, and that means cash is tied up and unavailable. In order to avoid lending my dad money or going into assets I want to leave alone, I have to watch his expenditures closely. Or maybe I don’t have to, but I do it anyway. I don’t want a giant unexpected bill to force me to break cash loose.

Are my groundless financial worries the reason I’ve had several cysts on my back? Search me. Interesting, though.

In other news, God showed me some more things. I will bore you with a digression about the way law works.

When a lawyer takes a case, he looks at laws, and he also looks at old cases in which judges have made decisions. Those decisions are like new laws. If a judge decides a law against littering means you can’t grow turnips in Nebraska, then that’s what it means, and lawyers are free to cite this rule to other judges to make them do what the lawyers want. The preexisting rulings are called “precedent.”

Often, a lawyer will have to create what a professor of mine called “an articulated rule” made up by combining various laws and bits of precedent. Let’s say one case says you can’t grow turnips in Nebraska, and another case says dairy cattle improved with turnip DNA are actually turnips. A lawyer whose client doesn’t want someone raising turnip-gene cattle in Nebraska will put the rules together.

God provides rules and principles that can be combined, just like terrestrial laws. Example: “He who finds a wife finds a good thing,” plus, “they that seek the Lord will not want any good thing,” means God will provide wives to men who seek the Lord. Presumably. If the Hebrew is consistent.

Actually, it is consistent. The word translated as “good thing” is the same in both cases.

Years ago, God told me this: “Authority comes from time spent in the presence of the Lord.” This is one of the reasons I try to pray in tongues as much as I can. When you pray in tongues, God prays through you, so you are always in his presence.

Yesterday, God told me this: “All peace comes from authority.”

I can’t believe I didn’t know that. It’s very obvious once you consider it.

Think about criminals. They live outside of authority. They may appear tough and intimidating, but they are afraid of everyone around them. If you’re a criminal, everyone you associate with is a potential witness. Each of them has his hand on the flush handle and can send you down the drain at will. Now think about law-abiding people. Generally, they have little to fear. A law-abiding person can insult the police and throw them off his property. Who has more peace? Obviously, it’s the law-abider.

The Bible says, “A little that a righteous man hath is better than the riches of many wicked.”

If you have authority behind you, you have someone more powerful than yourself, protecting and supplying you. You can’t fail unless the system you represent fails.

This reminds me of the story of David and Goliath. I recall a preacher saying words to the effect that David thought Goliath was doomed because he didn’t have God behind him. The Bible backs that up.

If you look at the story in 1 Samuel 17, you will see that David, a skinny kid with no training or armor, looks down on Goliath. He says, “For who is this uncircumcised Philistine, that he should defy the armies of the living God?” He thought Goliath was a loser and an idiot.

When he says Goliath is uncircumcised, he means he has no authority from God. Circumcision was the sign of a contract between God and Abraham. It obligated God to help Abraham’s seed. Goliath didn’t have that, so he was on his own. Goliath looked big, but in reality, David was the giant.

When David approached Goliath, Goliath cursed him in the names of his false gods, trying to give himself authority and support. David said he was going to kill him so people would know there was a God in Israel. He was going to kill him to demonstrate that Israel, not the Philistines, had real authority.

David was anointed. Samuel had poured oil on him and anointed him king. Anointing equals authority. An anointed person has God’s full support.

If you have God’s full support and you know it, you should automatically have peace.

If you pray in tongues and do whatever else you should do in order to spend ample time in God’s presence, you should have authority and, therefore, peace, regardless of how things look. As I said recently, God told me this: “It doesn’t matter.” He meant that my circumstances weren’t important; no matter how bad things looked, prayer in tongues would fix everything.

I need to redouble my efforts. Every time I fail in my obligation to pray enough, I get tense, and things don’t go as well as they should. It’s as though I’m spraying weed killer and pesticide when I pray in tongues. When I quit, the bugs march in, and the weeds grow.

To switch topics, I got some more understanding about correction. I am very concerned about my character. Take a look at this passage from the Revelation:

But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death.

I don’t want to endanger my salvation. I know I have some doors that need to be shut. I can’t look at the above list and say I’m in the clear, so I’m keeping it in mind and praying about it. Apart from the salvation issue, I just don’t like what I am. It’s like living in a dirty house. I want relief.

I saw something comforting in Matthew. I was thinking about Christians who aren’t going to make it, and I remembered a certain passage, so I tried to look it up. Here it is.

Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven.

Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works?

And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity.

Because I’m a bad Bible scholar, I didn’t find this passage at first. I came across this:

Therefore be ye also ready: for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of man cometh.

Who then is a faithful and wise servant, whom his lord hath made ruler over his household, to give them meat in due season?

Blessed is that servant, whom his lord when he cometh shall find so doing.

Verily I say unto you, That he shall make him ruler over all his goods.

But and if that evil servant shall say in his heart, My lord delayeth his coming;

And shall begin to smite his fellowservants, and to eat and drink with the drunken;

The lord of that servant shall come in a day when he looketh not for him, and in an hour that he is not aware of,

And shall cut him asunder, and appoint him his portion with the hypocrites: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

That’s an interesting passage. It’s as if it were written with TV and megachurch preachers in mind, not to mention the popes. The world is full of clergymen who exalt themselves and treat people like fatted calves, and one day they will all have to account for themselves.

Look at the part about meat. That’s what made me feel better. The Lord will be pleased with those he finds giving his household meat.

What does meat symbolize in the Bible? Strong teaching. If you go to a megachurch, you get what the Bible calls “milk.” They tell you how to get saved, and then they go off on irrelevant tangents about money and positive thinking. They’re like people who adopt babies and give them milk for a while and then starve them instead of moving them on to meat.

Jesus said hard times would come before his return, and he said, “And woe unto them that are with child, and to them that give suck in those days!” He didn’t just mean parents. He was referring to churches full of adult babies who have never been fed meat.

You need to eat meat in order to know how to fight Satan and his children, and if you follow Joel Osteen and T.D. Jakes, you wouldn’t know meat if you saw 30 tons of it in a packing plant. When the end comes, strong Christians will be praying, blessing, and cursing, with power. They’ll be receiving help and correction. The megachurch babies will be reciting feel-good mantras and donating even more money to churches, hoping they can buy God’s assistance.

Jesus said he would tell such people, “I never knew you.” That makes sense, because he was talking about people who don’t spend time in his presence.

I was comforted by what he said about meat, because whatever my failings may be, I am trying to provide meat to people, free of charge. I am trying to tell them things, based on my experience as a witness, that will get them past the foolishness and helplessness of the feel-good, Mammon-worship crowd. Maybe that will count for something when I have to answer for what I’ve said and done.

Final thing, and this is another swerve: I got a revelation about wool.

The Bible calls us sheep, and we should be looking at what it says about sheep to understand ourselves. The Bible also calls hair “glory.”

For a long time, I’ve had the notion that hair symbolizes the things that grow out of a person who is close to God. When you pray in tongues, it’s as though hair grows on you. Samson was not allowed to cut off his hair. When he did, God’s glory and presence left, and so did Samson’s protection and strength. When Jesus appeared in his transfigured form, his hair was like pure white wool.

I was thinking about that today, and I wondered: what happens when you don’t shear a sheep?

I looked it up, and I found the answer. A sheep in Australia dodged the shearers for several years. He was finally caught, and when they sheared him, he lost 89 pounds. Domestic sheep don’t shed their wool.

That interested me, because I think glory is something you have to give to God. When you walk with God, you can’t help having glory rub off on you, but it’s toxic in large amounts. It causes pride. Look what it did to Satan.

Absalom, the son of David, had a similar problem. He was close to David, and he became very proud, even though he wasn’t anointed. He tried to take David’s throne.

The psalms say a blessed man’s children will speak with the enemy in the gate. Absalom sat in the city gate and intercepted people who were friendly to David. They went to Israel to have David serve as a judge in their disputes. Absalom told them David hadn’t deputized anyone to hear their cases. He turned them against David by saying that as king, he would make sure people got justice.

He also slept with David’s wives and publicized it.

Absalom’s hair grew like crazy, and he only had it cut once a year. He was apparently very proud of it. When he was sheared, his hair weighed about 5 pounds.

When Absalom became a fugitive, he died because he got caught in an oak tree as he rode under it. His head, with all that hair, got stuck in it. Oaks are said to represent righteous men.

What happened to him is a little like the story of the ram that appeared when Abraham was excused from sacrificing Isaac. It got its horns (symbols of power) caught in a bush.

God showed me that pride has weight. Whenever you decide you can handle things on your own, and that you deserve credit, you’re picking up a weight. Credit comes with obligation. If you made something happen, you’re expected to keep it working. The more things you credit yourself for, the more weight you have to carry, and the less God does things for you.

A sheep that isn’t shorn is like a person who gathers glory to himself instead of giving it to God periodically. He ends up trying to carry a load he can’t deal with. All real success comes from God’s favor, not from our silly talents or our ridiculous hard work. Think about the story of Jacob and the striped sticks by the watering troughs.

The TV guys and the priests and popes with the $500 hats have a glory accumulation. It’s a problem. God didn’t intend for us to have ranks. He wanted every one of us to be a general, and he wanted us to give him all the credit for our deeds, so we would not be poisoned and weighted down by pride.

One more tidbit: sheep that aren’t sheared become wool-blind. Wool grows over their eyes. The world is full of Christians who can’t see past their own glory.

It’s wonderful how all of these things make sense when God explains them to you.

Your Existence is Offensive

Today during breakfast I watched a Youtube video about a woman who said she was experiencing demonic activity in her house. The manifestations she described weren’t subtle. It wasn’t the usual, “I have a bad feeling when I’m in this room.” She said she saw orbs of light in her house, and she presented a photograph. She said she saw a demon scurry into her child’s room.

The video got me thinking about my dad, who suffers from dementia. I did a little Googling to see if caregivers and doctors had stories about demonic activity in dementia patients. I figured the stories had to be out there, because medical people see supernatural events all the time.

I didn’t find any of the material I was looking for. Instead I came across a lot of links belittling people who believe in spirits. I should have expected that. Satan controls the minds of cruel people who abuse believers, and he loves using them to humiliate believers and shut them out of society.

I used to participate in a caregiver forum. I quit because the people were obnoxious to me. I didn’t push Christianity on them. They got angry at me over other things and kept accusing me and trying to put me on the defensive. This is something that happens to believers. People whose eyes are still closed attack us and drive us off, and sometimes it’s because we should never have gone near them to begin with. When you turn to God with serious intentions, your friends WILL start to disappear.

Today while I was Googling, a link to that forum came up, and I looked at it.

Some poor woman was caring for her mother. Her mother started talking in a voice the woman described as “demonic.” She said things in a language the caregiver could not understand, and then she said, “Who was that?” The caregiver asked the forum members if a demon could be involved.

An angry, unbelieving lady with some sort of position of authority piped up and “corrected” this woman, assuring her that Alzheimer’s was purely physical. Another character piled on. There was criticism of caregivers who believed in the supernatural, and the term “elder abuse” was invoked. The idea is that if you believe in demons, as Jesus and the apostles did, it is abusive to permit you to care for a demented parent. I think this notion will gain great power soon. I believe the state will eventually start taking demented parents, disabled relatives, and adopted or foster kids away from people like me.

One has to wonder how the system will function without us. Many, many nurses, technicians, and nursing assistants are Christians, and their prayers and presence help make the system run.

It’s remarkable how life has changed in the last quarter-century. Hatred of Jesus and Christians has become very overt. Our human adversaries (the puppets of Satan) used to show restraint. They were a little afraid of us, as they should have been. Our numbers were greater than they are now, and we were less ashamed of the God we believed in. These days the picture is different. Homosexuals are allowed to marry, and support for homosexual marriage has grounded a tsunami of antichrist activism.

Liberals love to talk about tolerance; this is what unpopular people do when they’re in the minority. Islamist Muslims do it as official policy. Now leftist are on top, so they openly work to rid the world of us. Right now they’re only working to rid the world of our beliefs, but eventually, as the Bible predicts, they will resort to execution. Oddly, they will be filling heaven at their own expense.

Murder is a strange and misunderstood concept. I think religious Jews understand it better than we do. Gentiles think murder means physically killing other people without legal grounds. Jews believe destroying a person’s reputation with words is murder, too.

In the latter sense, religious Jews have worked to murder Jesus, among their own people, for a long time. Many call him “Yeshu,” which is not his name. His name is Yehoshua, and the short form is Yeshua (Joshua, in English). “Yeshu” is a Hebrew acronym which means, “May his name and memory be blotted out.” It’s a curse, and presumably it is spoken and written with the hope that it will take effect.

Some Jews claim Jesus was the reincarnation of Eisav (Esau), who was an evil man who opposed Israel (Jacob). They support this using kabbalah. If you rearrange the consonants in “Yeshu” (not his name), and you add another consonant, you get a word that could be pronounced “Eisav.” Seems like a stretch, but there it is.

If you rearrange the consonants in my name, and you add a consonant, and you change the vowels, you can get “Love Satan.”

Religious Jews seem to understand that if you want to destroy a person whose influence is evil, it’s not enough to kill his body. You have to make people forget his ideas and, if possible, his existence.

Murder is a supernatural idea. It comes from the supernatural realm. The earth is the site of a supernatural, genocidal war. On one side, there are the children of light. On the other, there are the children of darkness, also known as the children of Satan. The children of darkness are always working to rid the earth of the children of light and their ideas.

God has destroyed the children of darkness directly in the past. He sent the flood to get rid of them, and he also killed the firstborn of Egypt. He killed the people of Sodom and Gomorrah. He told the Jews to kill every single Amalekite. He had Haman killed, and to show that genocide was on his mind, he had Haman’s 10 sons killed along with him, so Haman’s seed died. The Jews believe that when you kill a man, you kill the nation he would have sired, and this principle is demonstrated by God’s response to the murder of Abel. God said Abel’s “bloods,” not “blood,” cried out to him from the ground. He was referring to Abel’s descendants.

We serve a genocidal God. That sounds bad, but the race he is destroying is poisonous and without hope. It’s too dangerous to be allowed to survive, so he created hell and the lake of fire to contain it. Also, you can choose not to belong to this race at any time. You can always accept salvation and serve God, so you shouldn’t complain when you end up where you sent yourself.

Heaven is the perfect example of successful genocide. While the children of light spend eternity in a purified world, the children of darkness and the supernatural beings they serve will be imprisoned far away where they can’t be seen or heard, and it will be as though their very spirits no longer existed.

The Nazis were children of darkness. They built death camps which were parodies of God’s temple, and instead of sacrificing animals, they sacrificed Jews and their other enemies. Their genocidal impulses came from the spirit of Antichrist. The Jews are precious to God, and they have an important place in prophecy, so the Nazis and their father, Satan, tried to get rid of them. He also wanted to get rid of their memory. This is why he had the Nazis burn their synagogues and remove their tombstones.

If the Nazis had succeeded, the existence of the Jews would have been covered up over time, just as the physical evidence of the 2 million people who walked with Moses in the desert has been concealed. Satan had the Nazis burn Jews in order to destroy even their bones. He didn’t want future generations asking who the bones belonged to. No wonder. Look what Elishah’s bones did; they raised a man from the dead. And God used a field of dry bones to symbolize his dormant servants who would one day be brought to life and filled with power.

We see the same thing happening today in America, except Christians are the main victims. We are being driven out of commerce and public discourse. Merely saying Caitlyn Jenner or one of his fellow female-impersonator puppets is a man can get you fired from a job. Saying same-sex marriage is wrong can put you in bankruptcy court with no hope of resuming your career.

Sex offenders are sometimes offered chemical castration. This means they keep their genitals, but they are filled with drugs that are supposed to emasculate them psychologically and take away their lust. What’s happening to Christians is a lot like that. We are often permitted to participate in society on the condition that we cease behaving like Christians. We have to stop proselytizing, testifying, and even mentioning our faith. It’s a kind of living execution, and if it goes far enough, it becomes eternal execution. If you let yourself be pushed far enough by the spirit of Antichrist, you can lose your salvation. So mass murder, or at least coerced spiritual suicide, is already here, in a spiritual sense. The children of darkness are making us hollow ourselves out so nothing alive remains inside us.

All over the world, Christians are being murdered, physically. Muslims systematically hunt them down and execute them. Often, they are offered the alternative of spiritual suicide. If they repent and join Satan’s Islam cult, they may be allowed to live. But to be allowed to live in apostasy is to die forever, because repenting of Christianity brings damnation and eternal agony in the company of damned spirits.

One day, they will start murdering us in America, and they will offer us the living-suicide alternative.

In a way, Christians have more hope than Jews. Anti-Semitic genocide will resume, too, but unlike Christians, Jews won’t be able to save themselves. At least I don’t think so. Christianity is merely a choice. Jewish identity is physical; it’s genetic. You can renounce Jesus, but you can’t stop being a descendant of Abraham. Many Christians will save themselves from execution by accepting damnation, but Jews probably won’t have that option, except for a few who serve the enemy. There will always be kapos, until Satan decides he doesn’t need them.

The Nuremberg Laws were soft genocide. “We’re not killing you; we’re just purifying our professions.” “We’re not killing you; we’re just firing you from teaching positions in order to protect the youth.” “We’re not putting you out of business; we’re just putting signs up so people will know they’re buying from Jews.” The persecution we see now in America works the same way. “We’re not forcing you to recant; we’re just preventing you from offending other people by mentioning your faith at work.” “We’re not starving you; we’re just taking this particular career away from you.” “We’re not censoring you; we’re just refusing to let you use our social media platform.”

They’re painting the floor, and they always tell us there’s still a place where we can stand, but that place is getting smaller and smaller, and one day they’ll paint it, too.

The children of darkness are very bold about destroying Christians now, but they’re still afraid of Jews. Jews are generally leftist atheists, and during the last century or so, they have taken the suicidal position that the state is their messiah and protector. Something like 90% of American Jews vote Democrat in our national elections, even though liberals are their enemies and conservatives are their only friends.

It looks bad for the left to attack Jews directly, because leftists love to tell us Hitler was conservative and all Christians and conservatives are Nazis. Leftists are fairly gentle with Jews right now, but they’ve found a safe surrogate target: the political nation of Israel. They’re also going after “bankers,” which is code for “Jews.” While they wait until it’s safe to go after Jews directly, they will do their best to devour the Jewish nation, like the red dragon in the book of the Revelation.

Leftists are amazing. They support every conceivable type of sin and perversion, and they attack God openly over and over, yet their support for Muslims is as solid as granite. In Muslim nations, homosexuals are imprisoned and executed, women are treated like livestock, and theocracy is the primary goal and the whole point of earthly existence, but American leftists are doing their best to help Muslim nations destroy Israel.

Why are they comfortable with this level of cognitive dissonance? Because they are under the control of spirits that hate God.

Everyone is influenced by spirits. Some Christians are led primarily by the Holy Spirit. Most people, including most Christians, are led primarily by spirits that oppose God. Spirits can distort reality and pervert reason with ease; after all, they cause mental illness, including psychosis. This is why it’s so hard to evangelize. People who don’t believe in God are irrational, and the irrationality is supernatural. Reason didn’t create it, and reason can’t tear it down.

My dad has never known God, so he has been controlled by foreign spirits all his life. He has done astoundingly counterproductive things, without regret or self-examination. If demons have corrupted his ability to think, it’s no surprise. Only God preserves mental health.

It’s terrible to realize there are millions of people in America who are in the same boat, and that if our nation had good spiritual health, we could heal them without drugs. It’s worse to realize human beings who mean well hate the very notion of supernatural deliverance. It’s sad to see people persecuting the only individuals who offer real hope.

Replacement Model 60 More Accurate Than Crosman BB Gun

Remington/Marlin came through for me. The gun they sent to replace my defective Marlin Model 60 arrived, and it appears to work. Bonus: the stock is nicely figured.

For those who don’t memorize every trivial detail of my life, I will provide a recap. I bought a Model 60 to kill coons at night. Florida won’t let me shoot coons at night with a light with any other caliber. When I tried the gun, it shot worse than the BB gun I had when I was 10. I’m not kidding. I had no trouble killing innocent songbirds on telephone wires with the BB gun. The Marlin wasn’t accurate enough to do that. I got groups something like 5 inches wide at 50 feet.

I took the gun back to Gander Outdoors, where I ran into their upsetting return policy: they don’t. By that I mean, they don’t accept returns. They will, however, ship a crappy new gun back to the factory for you. They mailed my .22 caliber blunderbuss to Remington, and I waited a month or so.

Why Remington? Because Remington bought Marlin. It’s a long boring story I don’t actually remember well enough to tell.

Remington called me by mistake, thinking they were calling Gander Outdoors, and I asked what was up with the gun. The lady on the line said they were sending a new one instead of fixing the one I bought. That was maybe a couple of weeks ago. I picked the new gun up last week.

Interesting legal tidbit: if a gun maker sends you a replacement gun, you have to go through a new background check. It’s really stupid, but if the serial number on the gun you take home is different from the one on the gun the factory kept, the FBI wants to hear from you. So I had to stand around for 20 minutes while the store guys did their thing. The gun hadn’t been inventoried, so I also had to wait while they fixed that.

I thought about selling the gun without shooting it. These guns have bad triggers, and a lot of people think quality control suffered when Remington took over. Then I realized no local buyer would give me a significant break on a new gun. If I say the gun hasn’t been fired, I know what the response will be: “As soon as it leaves the store, it’s USED.” I spent $170 on this thing, and people would probably try to pay me $130 locally, regardless of whether it’s new or just nearly new, so it seemed to me that I would lose little or nothing by trying it out.

Take that, bottom fishermen. Thought you were going to lowball me, did you? Ha! Go to the store and pay full price like I did.

I threw my old Bushnell rimfire scope on the gun and went out to the pasture. I was not willing to put up a rest and a table. I just wanted to see if the gun would shoot reasonably straight. I sat in the golf cart something like 22 long paces from the berm, and I shot with the gun resting on my left hand, which was resting on the steering wheel.

I am ahead of my time. Some day all military snipers will shoot from golf carts.

I used Remington Golden Bullets, which are the bullet equivalent of the battered golf balls driving ranges put in buckets. In fact, you can buy a bucket of Golden Bullets at your local gun store. A lot of people hate Golden Bullets, claiming they fail to fire and complaining that they’re dirty. But here’s a list of their redeeming features:

1. They’re cheap.

Golden Bullets failed to fire several times in the original gun, but today they worked just fine, except for one stovepipe.

I don’t know how other people zero scopes. I shoot, and then I guess how many clicks the scope knobs need, and I crank away. I end up with strings of bullet holes leading toward the center of the bullseye. That’s what I did today, and you can see it in the photo below. I shot at the center of the target, to zero the scope, and then I fired two 10-round groups to the sides. I got two big holes, which is good enough. Once I put a sling and studs on the gun, I can use a bipod and see if I can do better.

I’m starting to think I should rig the golf cart up so I can use it as a shooting bench. It’s shady and comfortable.

The gun’s trigger is beyond heinous. You pull and pull, and sometimes you wonder if the safety is still on. If you’re me, sometimes it is. If it’s not, the gun eventually fires, but because you’ve been thinking so much about the crappy trigger, you’ve forgotten about the point of aim, so your accuracy suffers.

Now that I know the barrel is okay, I know it’s safe to invest a few bucks in a better trigger.

Maybe the Model 60 is still a good gun, even after Remington.

Speaking of Remington, I took my Nylon 66 out and blasted my spinning metal target using iron sights. I hit the 4″ target 7 times out of 10, which is okay, when you factor in the knowledge that I don’t know where the rifle is sighted in. I would guess that I last adjusted the sights in about 1975. To find out where the bullets are actually going, I will need to use a paper target.

It’s a shame that gun won’t cooperate with a scope, because it’s a joy to shoot.

I still suspect I should have gotten a Ruger 10/22 instead of the Marlin. They say Rugers are less accurate, but you can improve them. I don’t know.

I think I only “need” one more rifle, and as I believe I’ve written, that’s the 6.5×55 Swedish, which is pretty similar to the 6.5 Creedmoor. It will ethically kill any creature in North America, certain large feminists excluded, and it’s super accurate and works great at long distances.

Once I have a 6.5 Swedish or Creedmoor bolt gun, my life will be complete. Until I realize I need something else.

Amusing side note: this week some friends came to see me, and they graciously agreed to move some things up from Miami for me. They were a little surprised when they found themselves hauling maybe 3000 rounds of ammunition. They wondered what the police would think. They made it, however, so I guess there is nothing to complain about. Sadly, even after all the shipments my friends and I have made, I still have a thousand or so rounds to bring up here. I have almost nothing in 7.62mmx54R.

Things are shaping up. Now I have to get the .204 Ruger and night scope working, and after that, it’s coyote-popping time. Once that happens, I will give everyone the word so they can sell their stock in Acme Products.

Scads of Scats

I needed a new gun. Do I even have to say it? I needed it for sending wounded squirrels to Happy Land, somewhere near the base of the Big Rock Candy Mountain, where they can spend eternity partying with the other bums. This is my rationale. Don’t question it.

In all seriousness, I feel bad about one of the squirrels I shot. He came down wounded, and I didn’t finish him as soon as I should have. I’ve already written about it, but I didn’t tell the whole story. At first, I thought he was kicking his last, so I didn’t think to shoot him a second time. Then I realized he was still alive, and one reason I didn’t kill him immediately is that he was scrambling around and making it hard to get at him. I also hesitated partly because I wanted his buddy to come out. I should not have done that. I don’t like thinking about it. After that, I resolved to always do the right thing as quickly as possible.

Back to frivolity. I’ve been dying to get a generation 2 Colt Woodsman. My grandfather and I used to shoot a gen 3. I have a feeling one of my relatives is sitting on it. The guns were supposed to be inventoried and offered to us so we could decide who got what, but the Woodsman disappeared. I don’t know what happened to his .357 pistols, either. Anyway, all I have is the Woodsman manual and some memories.

Maybe someone got mad because my grandmother gave my dad my grandfather’s Sweet Sixteen. That wouldn’t make sense, though. The other guns were distributed after both of my grandparents were dead, so everyone had a right to bid. The shotgun was given away while she was alive, so nobody can say they were entitled to a shot at it. People are allowed to give things away while they’re alive, without compensating other possible heirs. My dad bought my sister a house without compensating me, and I told him it was fine with me.

I thought I might get a Woodsman and carry it when hunting, but I also want a .22 for target practice, and the idea of wearing out a nice old gun on targets is a bit nauseating.

Again, do not question the rationale.

The other day I started practicing with a .45, and I did not do well, so I knew (or rationalized) that it was time to start working again. I visited Gander Outdoors, and they had the Smith & Wesson Victory .22 on sale for the deplorable price of $329, down from $369.

What? Are you kidding me? A whole pistol for $329? You think I’m not buying that? Are you smoking weed soaked in Fentanyl?

As an attorney, I feel that this constitutes entrapment. It’s like those times when I got to the register with one pint of Haagen-Dazs and the cashier told me they were selling them two for one.

Obviously, I bought it.

Ruger has a new pistol called the Mark IV, but it’s more expensive.

The Victory is an interesting pistol. Smith & Wesson noticed that gun nuts loved the AR-15 because it was modular. You buy a crummy $450 AR, and then you spend $1500 on parts to mix and match. It’s easy to install stuff on an AR. It’s a very popular game, and there was no .22 pistol out there that worked the same way. Smith & Wesson decided to create one.

Even before the gun was manufactured, they went to another company and told them they should make barrels for the Victory. The factory barrel comes off very easily, so you can rebarrel whenever you feel like it. There are also a lot of grips for the gun. There are a bunch of other parts, but I don’t know what they are.

The Victory has a target rear sight when you get it, but in the box with it, you get a Picatinny rail. You can pop the sight off, install the rail, and attach a scope. Neat.

The gun comes with nice fiber optic sights. Bright and conspicuous.

Another nice thing about the Victory is that you can strip it in a few seconds with a hex wrench and a punch. They designed it to compete with the Ruger Mark III, which is so hard to strip, many people end up taking it to a gunsmith for reassembly. Ruger supposedly fixed that with the Mark IV. Guess they knew it was time.

I like the gun a lot. I’m not crazy about the Lost in Space looks, but it’s not ugly. The trigger is great, and it has an adjustable stop. It’s heavy because of the thick barrel, but it’s not unpleasant to shoot.

I kind of wish they made a sporty barrel I could buy cheap. I don’t need a bull barrel to off squirrels. It would be nice to take the heavy barrel off and put a light one on when I’m hunting. You can get a carbon fiber barrel for it, but it’s about as expensive as the gun itself. Maybe someone will fill the need eventually.

I tried it out today. I’ll post a photo of the target.

I shot at 7 yards. When I first started, I was not knocking myself out to get accuracy. I put 30 Remington Golden Bullets in the general vicinity of the center of the target. Then I shot two 10-round groups aiming above and below the center. I used CCI Stingers for that.

The top group is the last one.

The most surprising thing I noticed was that the wind affected my accuracy. The wind was coming from behind me at a pretty good clip, and it pushed me around enough to make the sight picture move.

A lot of people say Golden Bullets are garbage. I don’t know. I figured they would have to be good enough to work at 7 yards. I guess I could rest the gun and see how they shoot.

When I shot the last two groups, I was working harder, and I noticed I was having issues due to lack of practice. I was trying to flinch sometimes, and my grip was not consistent. Toward the end, I was having trouble getting a good sight picture. The sun was fading.

I’m going to try again later this week. I suppose I should make a real effort to evaluate the ammunition so I can eliminate whichever brand is least accurate. I don’t want to improve and then find myself trying to fix problems which are actually caused by the ammunition. That would be frustrating.

It’s neat to have a practice pistol. I’m sure this will fix my accuracy problems. The lack of recoil and light trigger pull will be easy on my hands, so I won’t end up shaking after 150 rounds. I’ll be able to practice longer without having problems caused by fatigue.

In other news, I am trying to find out whether I really have a bear. I checked a bear population map on the web, and supposedly, bears are not just common but “abundant” in my part of the county. There are a bunch of poops by my goat shed, and they look way too new to be from last year when the steers were here.

Hope you like photos of bear poo.

I put my game camera by the shed, aimed at the poop area, and I emptied a quart bag of marshmallows on the ground. Someone on the web said they were great coon bait, and I figure a bear is a lot like a coon. They eat everything.

It’s illegal to hunt bears in Florida. The hippies and yankees killed the 2017 and 2018 seasons. Scientists confirmed we had plenty of bears to hunt, but the urban granola committee threw tantrums, and for some insane reason, the wildlife commission listened.

This isn’t fair. Normal people in rural areas aren’t trying to get the government to tell urbanites what to do. We’re not calling for bans on women’s underwear on men at raves. Why don’t they mind their own business?

There’s a loophole, though. If I can prove a bear is a nuisance, I can shoot him. I have to prove he’s “annoying.” I’ve figured out how to do this. I’m going to steal a satchel full of literature from a wandering Jehovah’s Witness, and after I shoot the bear, I’m going to chain him to the golf cart, drag him to the front door and plant the satchel on him. I’ll even put a little necktie on him. Then I’ll shoot some photos.

What’s more “annoying” than a visit from the JW’s on a Saturday afternoon?

If this doesn’t work, I’ll plant a banjo on him. The danger with this approach is that people may swarm my property before I skin him and shoot his dead carcass and beat it with their fists.

If all else fails, I’ll shoot him and plant a gun on him. It works for the cops.

We have a lot of bears here. I was surprised to look at the numbers. The government thinks there are almost 5000 of them in the state. Tennessee, which seems like a better place for bears to live, only has around 6000. South Carolina checks in at 1200. North Carolina and Virginia do a lot better, with 20,000 and 17,000. In North Carolina, you can shoot one bear per year.

I know what I should do. I’ll put the bear in my truck and get him drunk. Then I’ll drive him to North Carolina, roll him out, and plug him.

If I get better with the pistol, I’ll post photos. If I don’t, I’ll pretend I forgot.

Don’t Cooperate With Squatters

Since Passover, more or less, I’ve been having strong sensations during prayer. I am fighting spirits I gave control to over the years. I keep speaking defeat to them and casting them out.

When spirits attach to you, they may set up shop in the area of your abdomen. I don’t know why it works this way, but it’s true. If you’ve ever felt an agitated hostile spirit move in you, you may have felt nausea and tension in your solar plexus. People commonly report this. These things have been happening to me during prayer.

Things are relatively normal before I start praying. Then as I speak to these things and cast them out, I feel the nausea and tension. It’s obvious; there is nothing subtle about it. I don’t bring it on myself, either. It appears without my help.

Another strange thing happens during these sessions. I hear gurgling sounds in me, and I feel things letting go. I believe I have problems with spirits constricting and blocking things inside me.

I noticed this years ago, when I was in college. I thought it was a purely natural thing. I would feel pressure building up inside me, on my left side under my lower ribs in the front. It made me tense because it was uncomfortable. It affected my emotions.

Then it would release, and I would hear noises. This happened over and over, every day. Now when I pray and fight the spirits, the constriction in this area opens up, and my insides make loud noises as the gas or whatever is released.

I think the constriction is in my intestines. My understanding is that the small intestine loops up under the ribs on the left. I’ve also felt pressure in what I think is my pancreas, also on the left, and of course I am very familiar with pressure and other sensations in my gallbladder and bile duct. I’ve had gallbladder issues, and I’ve learned what sensations involving my gallbladder mean. I know when a stone is moving out into the bile duct, and I know when there is pressure in the gallbladder itself.

I’m a healthy person, but I fight with little issues, and God showed me a lot of them involve blockages. The gallbladder is an obvious example. Stones and sludge block the flow of bile. I’ve also had problems with snoring and nighttime congestion, as if Satan were trying to cut off my air and suffocate me. I had a floater in one eye, right in the area where I focus, and it partially blocked my sight. I’ve had sebaceous cysts, which are caused by blocked follicles. I’ve had kidney stones, which are hard objects that block the flow of urine.

I believe illnesses often reflect our supernatural problems. If the heart is right, it’s harder for the enemy to afflict you. When your heart is wrong, the enemy can go before God, accuse you, and get permission to attack.

Psalm 127 says a man’s children are like arrows in a quiver, and they speak with the enemy in the gate. The body is like a house with a walled yard. It’s full of gates: eyes, ears, the mouth, and so on. If something is blocked against your will, someone else must be controlling a gate.

These days I’m fighting spirits of murder, antichrist, and church-worship. I’m trying to find out what else I have to fight and what I have to change in order to stop giving spirits the legal right to work in me.

I know claims like these sound crazy to unbelievers and Christians who, themselves, are influenced by antichrist spirits. Look at the Bible, though. Jesus fought demons all the time. If you’re a Christian, you have to believe in Satan and demons. If not, you think you know more than Jesus, and you’re worshiping a person you look down on. That’s not just error; it’s pride and rebellion. The Bible says God fights the proud and helps the humble.

An antichrist spirit will make you uncomfortable when you hear the name “Jesus” or any mention of demons. It may make you want to ridicule anyone who speaks of these things.

I’ve seen spirits, and I believe Jesus, so I’m not going to worry about whether people think I’m nuts. I think they’re nuts! I think they’re blind and deluded. I think they’re in denial. I think they live in complete defeat, with no free will and no hope of victory or peace.

I can’t let myself be contaminated with their antichrist mindset just so I can have the worthless, fleeting approval and admiration of slaves and the lost. When I do that, I’m the tail and not the head. I’m abdicating my responsibility to lead.

You have to lead on this earth. You have to lead other people, and you have to lead evil spirits. You’re on top or you’re on the bottom. You’re not neutral. That option doesn’t exist.

What I’m going through is like pregnancy. I feel like I’m getting ready to permanently expel foreign things that live inside me. I’m always reminded of the breakfast table scene in Alien. John Hurt’s character thought he was doing fine, and then he felt something moving around in him. His coworkers held him down on a table, and the thing inside him started pressing against his chest wall from inside. Then it burst out, killing him and going on to cause mischief for other people.

I feel like I’m in labor, only the things that will come out of me won’t be good.

When a filthy spirit leaves you, it feels wonderful. It’s draining, like finding out a painful lawsuit is over. You get the feeling you can finally rest.

Mainstream Christians should be casting spirits out and speaking defeat to them all day. We should be examining ourselves to find the behaviors and attitudes that give them the ability to hold onto us. Because we don’t do this, we are sick, weak, worried, and afraid, and people and spirits run roughshod over us. We are double agents, so we get limited help from the regime we should be loyal to.

It’s a very interesting process to go through. I’m very grateful for it. In the past, I had no knowledge and no help, so deliverance was impossible. Mainstream churches taught me that we should try to be good in our own strength, and it was assumed that God would do almost nothing to help us. It’s very nice to come out of ignorance and find help. It’s good to have a father who makes me stronger than bullies and too smart to listen to liars and swindlers. I couldn’t get victory on my own.

There are no Stars in Hell

God’s training program continues to unfold. Usually, it’s pleasant. Sometimes it’s not. It’s always profitable.

The two big themes right now seem to be correction (nothing new) and relief from demonic activity.

I ask God for a lot of good things, and a lot of them are things I expect to sting. I don’t think too much about the prospect of my own suffering when I pray. It will come soon enough whether I think about it or not, and it doesn’t matter anyway, because when you need something, you have to get it, whether or not it hurts. You wouldn’t reject an important operation because the doctor said you would have pain afterward.

For a long time, I’ve been asking God to help me accept criticism and admit fault. I don’t want to live on a high horse. I need all sorts of correction, and if I can’t bite the bullet and accept it, it won’t take effect. If I reject a correction, God will either give me something worse or give up, and I would like to avoid both of those things.

I have learned to try not to get on the high horse to start with, and that’s not so hard. What’s hard is admitting it when I get knocked off.

It’s somewhat difficult for me to perceive what’s wrong with me, but changing myself once I’m aware is even harder. In reality, it’s not possible. I can make little adjustments in myself, like an astronaut using retro rockets to make minor course corrections, but that’s about it. I created strongholds of bad behavior and attitudes in myself with the help of powerful spirits. Only another spirit can set me free.

Demons love pride. It’s their armor. They sit in you behind their armor, listening to arrows of correction as they bounce off. That’s bad, and now we have a problem that makes it worse. For the first time in Christian history, we have a culture that teaches us that pride is a virtue. We are taught to strive to be proud. Even as recently as 1960, we knew better. What happened to us? Was it the Sixties? We started celebrating pride, not realizing we were sealing demons inside us and helping them bring friends in.

Not long ago, I said something very ugly and unnecessary, and it hurt someone. Afterward, I was oblivious, as though I hadn’t done anything wrong. I can’t explain it. I had a supernatural blind spot. The victim was kind enough to let me know what I had done, and when I got that information, I was amazed. It was as though I were hearing about something someone else had done. I had done something I hate doing.

I felt very bad. I couldn’t eat. I ended up taking generic Imodium and Zantac so I could face lunch.

I was forgiven, but I don’t know if things will ever be quite the same. If not, I can’t complain. I don’t have anyone else to point the finger at. The best I can do is to keep working at it in prayer.

I’ve learned a few things as God has worked with me. I’ve learned that I can have an inquity I hate. To pull an example out of a hat, it’s possible for a person who hates drug addiction to be addicted and to have a demon infestation related to it. I’ve also learned I can have iniquities I don’t even know about.

The other day God told me something very surprising. He said I had a spirit of “church-worship.” That was not something I foresaw. As I understand it, he was talking about a spirit that wants me to worship pastors instead of God and put the success of churches above the success of the Holy Spirit.

I have no desire to have a position in a church or get heavily involved. I don’t want to sit and be taught doctrine any more. I would like to go just to be among Christians, but I don’t expect to learn much, and you would have to hold a gun on me to get me to accept a title. I have a desire to see megachurches dry up and vanish, and I long for a time in which people are so aligned with God they don’t need to build organizations and buy buildings. I feel a little sick when I see a church named after a human being, like “Andrew Wommack Ministries.” I don’t feel like a church-worship person. But I know what God said.

Maybe it’s something that lies dormant until it’s awakened.

I knew someone whose father was a Muslim. Presumably, there weren’t a lot of drinkers in the father’s line, because Muslims are not supposed to touch liquor. This individual drank a great deal, habitually. It was startling to watch this person put it away, night after night. I used to wonder if there was a dormant alcoholism curse in their family. With no alcohol around to expose it, an alcoholism curse might never manifest. I wonder if the church-worship spirit is like that.

I have fallen into church-worship in the past. I supported people who should never have been able to fool any intelligent person. A long time ago, I actually supported Robert Tilton, which is about as low as you can go.

I thought church-worship wasn’t a problem any more, but maybe it’s still there, hoping to jump out and take over.

This isn’t the first time God has surprised me like this. He told me I had a spirit of murder and a spirit of antichrist. I would never have figured those things out on my own. He was talking about things I truly hated. I didn’t think they could get me to cooperate, but now I know that I did. Murder manifested in rotten things I said and thought. The spirit of antichrist manifested in embarrassment I felt over being associated with “holy rollers.” Even when I overcame and ignored these things, they were still there.

I don’t know everything, but I know what spirits do inside me. They make my interior like hell. They make it a place of anger, fear, filth, and torment. When I listen to them, I let filth in. I think about people in a way which is like holding them captive in my mind and torturing them. I listen to spirits of fear, and I worry. I know I’m supposed to be like heaven in my heart. I’m supposed to be a place of love and peace. A temple.

This morning I was thinking about this, and I thought about the stories I’ve heard about hell. People who say they’ve seen it often say the individuals there had a burning desire to tell people on earth not to follow them.

That made me think about myself. I put a lot of nasty things in myself. I made myself like a little portable hell.

I have often thought my job was to help people become like me. By that I mean I thought I was supposed to help people get baptized with the Holy Spirit and hear from God and be corrected and repaired. In view of the hell analogy, I am forced to think that my actual job is to help people avoid becoming like me.

I screwed up very badly when I was in my twenties. God gave me the key to a successful life, and I discarded it. I didn’t maintain a prayer habit. I let all sorts of spirits in to rule me. I turned my inner world into a little hell. I should be helping younger people avoid that.

I know younger people who have serious problems, and some of them listen to me and look up to me. Sometimes I remind them that their lives should be better than mine. I tell them they’re doing much better than I was at their ages, and that when they’re as old as I am, they will be much better off than I am.

I have wondered what their future perceptions of me would be. Decades from now, when they look back and understand how badly I performed as a Christian, will they wish they had never known me? Will they feel contempt for me?

It doesn’t really matter. Other people’s esteem doesn’t put food on my table, and the objective isn’t to make people admire me. It’s to get them connected with God. Directly.

I no longer watch network TV, and I spend very little time watching reality TV. I watch old movies when I need empty distraction. Sometimes I look stars up to learn about them. Hedy Lamarr invented something that is supposedly the basis of wifi. Jimmy Stewart was an Air Force general. I remember little things like this, so I go to the Internet to find out more.

Lately Errol Flynn has been featured prominently on Turner Classic Movies. I didn’t really know who he was. While I was watching him, I thought about rumors I had heard. Some people think he collaborated with the Nazis. I looked him up.

Man, was I surprised. The Nazi business seems shaky, but I learned a lot of other things. He was vile. He had as much sex as humanly possible. He owned and lived in a hotel in Jamaica, and he used to get penicillin injections before his frequent visits to the local brothels because he thought it gave him 6 hours of immunity to syphilis. He drank constantly. He was tried for statutory rape. He had one-way mirrors and peepholes installed in his house so he could watch guests. He couldn’t serve in world War Two because he had VD and other health problems related to debauchery. He used opium and cocaine. He used to expose himself. He would sit down to dinner naked with his own mother.

Shortly before he died at the age of 50, he wrote an autobiography called, My Wicked, Wicked Ways. He was proud of himself. The book was so filthy, it had to be edited for the public.

His evil nature surprised me, but I was even more impressed by the contrast between his onscreen persona and the man behind it. In movies, he’s charming. He’s self-deprecating. He’s decent and unselfish. He makes you think he has to be somewhat like that in real life. No such luck!

I learned that the movie My Favorite Year is about him. Mel Brooks worked for Sid Caesar in the Fifties, and Flynn appeared on his show. Brooks had to babysit Flynn to make sure he showed up and did his job. The Peter O’Toole character in the movie is based on Flynn.

In the movie, the Brooks character shows O’Toole that deep in his dissipated heart, he really is the noble character he played. It’s a moment of redemption. In real life, nothing like that happened. Flynn was never redeemed. He dropped dead from a heart attack, happy in his sins, and the coroner found him so diseased and atrophied he compared him to an octogenarian.

It makes me think about the contrast between what I am and what I want people to think I am.

Last night I was watching some movie or other with the birds, and TCM showed the faces of a bunch of stars, zipping by the screen. TCM was celebrating them like Greeks lionizing the false gods of the pantheon. I thought about Flynn, and I thought about the other people I was seeing, many of whom were no better. I knew most of them were in hell.

People who go to hell don’t disappear. Everyone who has gone to hell is still there, suffering more than we can imagine. They’re all conscious right now.

It seemed like a cruel joke. These people were in hell, crying in agony, wishing they could tell people not to imitate them, and here Satan was, using images of their happy faces to make people admire them and want to be like them. Think how you would feel, in hell with maggots eating your bones, looking up and seeing naive human beings staring at your image and wanting to pattern themselves after you.

The world is very perverse. It’s full of deception and traps, and it’s a huge mistake to take it at face value and get caught up in the whirlpool.

Trusting human beings too much is very dangerous.

All of this knowledge is good. It tastes harsh, but the effect is worth it.

I hope you won’t make too much of bad examples. There is only one true way, and he ascended 2000 years ago.

Not Really

I finally did what I should have done a long time ago. I bought a tarp so I could shoot semiautos in the pasture.

A semiautomatic firearm doesn’t just eject shells. It throws them. They can land a good ways off. That’s bad when you’re shooting in grass and you want to save your brass. I’ve been putting off shooting reloads because I didn’t want to lose anything.

I don’t know why I’m worried about brass. I had this idea that I was low on brass, and then I went in the garage to look for .45 reloads. It’s time to admit it. I have an illness. I have enough brass to start a bell factory. I still hate losing it, though, especially since I shoot by myself. I used to shoot at a public range where free brass was all over the ground. Now I have to buy it.

I still lost 10% of my brass, but that’s better than 93% or whatever.

Here’s what I learned from today’s shooting session: not practicing is BAD.

I used to shoot every pistol I have well enough to put just about every shot into an area roughly the size of a half dollar at 7 yards. Today things did not go that well. Here is the first target.

Disturbing. Doubleplusungood.

I worked on remembering the things I used to do. Tightened my grip. Aimed small. Avoided jerking. Tried to get a good and consistent sight picture. Thought about follow-through.

Every target was better than the last one, and I finally ended up with this.

I am not happy, but that’s better than the first one.

I had 5 shots go through one big hole, and then I must have changed something, because I got the other hole below it. And I’m pulling everything to the left. The shooter’s “Wheel of Misfortune” says my problem is “too little trigger finger,” but I think my fingers are average-sized.

Rimshot.

I’m pretty sure my rifle problems are different from my pistol problems, which makes you wonder if the Wheel of Misfortune is really the Big Giant Wheel of BS.

It could be that I’m just bad at getting a correctly aligned pistol sight picture.

Oh, man. I just realized I was focusing on the target, not the front sight. I can’t believe I did that. Rifles (and lack of practice) did that to me. When you shoot through a scope, the target is beautiful and sharp, and so is the reticle, so you naturally focus on the target.

I was using free Hornady hollow points that came with my loading press. I don’t know if they’re any good for self defense, and I don’t really care, because the odds that I will ever use a 1911 to protect myself are pretty low. They’re heavy, the bullets are slow, and the capacity is low. Even a compact Glock holds a lot more.

I know saying things like that makes 1911-lovers squeal. Hey, I have issues with Glocks, too. They look like little L-shaped cardboard boxes. But comparing a 1911 to a Glock–in a firefight–is like comparing a 1965 Corvette convertible to a new Porsche 911.

I know. I know. I would rather have the Corvette, too. The 911 is really just Hitler’s People’s Car with some body refinements and a better engine. But you wouldn’t want to race a 911 in an old Corvette.

Ordinarily, one would shoot cheap 100% lead bullets for practice, and I have a lot of those, but I truly don’t see any purpose in conserving Hornady hollow points. They won’t expand in a burglar, and I wouldn’t use them for that purpose to begin with, unless he attacked me during target practice.

I still feel funny about it.

I had forgotten how filthy the powder was. I think it’s Unique. Anyway, it’s so dirty the fingers on my right hand turned grey. I may actually have to clean a firearm; a practice I frown upon.

Is it nice shooting my own reloads in my backyard in a super-red county, into my own berm, while listening to Christian music on bluetooth headphones? You could say that.

Perhaps I should get a .22 pistol for practice. I need one anyway for hunting. It would allow me to shoot cheaply, and the path to excellence is practice.

The Ruger Mark IV looks very good, but it’s very expensive compared to the other gun I like: the S&W something or other. The Smith is light. It practically falls apart for cleaning. It comes with cute fiber optic sights. Not bad.

I want a Colt Woodsman, but I don’t like the idea of wearing one out on targets. A Woodsman is a classy gun. Too nice to ruin with Remington Golden Bullets.

You know how these questions tend to resolve themselves. “Which one should I get? Why not both?”

I’ve been looking at gun prices, and I realize I should have bought more weapons in the past. They keep going up in value. I probably should have gotten a Swedish Mauser when they were cheap, to learn how to use iron sights on a high-powered rifle without going broke. I keep seeing things I wanted to buy at $250 or $375, selling for $450 or $600.

It’s funny; you see a gun that used to sell for $150, selling for $200, and you feel like it’s too late to get one. Then a year later it’s $300, and it’s still a bargain.

I wonder which cheap-in-2018 gun I should be buying right now. Maybe the Smith. It’s extremely cheap, and it’s hard to see why. Under $400.

I plan to get the kinks out of my shooting, now that I have no excuse not to. I may need a bigger tarp. Whatever it takes. There is no way to explain away a failure to practice when you live on a gun range.

Tomorrow I may take the .204 Ruger out again. I got all 57 batteries charged up, and I believe I can cure my too-high-bipod problem with my shooting rest. I have a funny feeling that gun is going to be very, very accurate with factory ammunition, and when that ammunition is gone, I can reload it, and then I’ll have the best ammunition possible. All I need is a fat coyote that doesn’t move much.

I feel like apologizing to the world for letting my pistol skills deteriorate, but I think I can redeem myself.

Helpful Stuff Straight From the Source

I said I was going to pass on things God said to me, so here I am with new material.

The first one came on March 25, and I already wrote it here as part of a blog post: “Men are supposed to be stable and level-headed.” God’s plan for couples is for men to lead and women to cooperate and support. Women are less stable than men. A woman is a different person every week. Men are pretty much the same every day, and we are supposed to function as anchors.

Men from sick matriarchal cultures tend to be emotional and unreliable. Men from matriarchal cultures can’t be relied on, so the women have babies out of wedlock and turn the government into their husband.

A husband should be led by God. Compared to a man, God is more stable. God leads and steadies the man, and the man leads and steadies the wife. This is the pipe through which blessings are supposed to flow.

Women should marry up, spiritually. Women want men who are smarter and more reliable than they are. If a woman marries the wrong man, she may end up raising him along with the other kids. She may end up in a stronghold from which she can never escape.

A man should not be a burden to a woman. He should pull his own weight, especially with God. He should be able to have a conversation on her intellectual level. Women get tired of being around kids all day. I assume a woman doesn’t want to have another kid walk through the door in the evening. They must look forward to a different kind of interaction.

Most people don’t know God, and they choose spouses very badly. Only God knows which shoe fits. When you marry the wrong person, you are yoked in a very real sense. Oxen can’t get out of a yoke, and marriage and kids are hard to get away from. I’ve seen people struggle with carnal spouses. It’s not good at all. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

Having kids out of wedlock is damaging whether the mother marries or not. If she marries, she may get a man who will always be a drain. If she doesn’t, she will have kids with no male around to keep them in line and make sure they treat her well. The boys may rebel, or they may become effeminate and weak.

I know God will work with people who admit fault, to bring about the best possible outcomes. But they have to repent. You can’t stay in an ungodly relationship, doing what got you into trouble the first time around, and expect much. Not if you know better. That’s not repentance.

The next thing I wrote down is, “Thank you for wanting to know me.” People who want to avoid spiritual responsibility like to say we are all God’s children, but the Bible says otherwise. Most people never know God until they die, are never transformed by him, and end up in hell. Jesus said he chooses people. We think we choose him, but that’s not the whole picture. I’m glad God saw fit to select me and work on me.

Months ago, I heard this: “My father and mother abandoned me.” I need a replacement, and no new parents are available except for God. Only he can undo the effects of a bad upbringing and turn me into something useful.

Next thing: “I defiled myself, and I knew better.” Can’t argue with that. God told me about prayer in tongues, and I turned away and sinned about as much as possible. I let every available demon move in and vandalize me. I’m glad I didn’t compound my misfortune by marrying an atheist or a Catholic santera or some other contrary woman who would have been harder to get rid of than demons. You can cast a demon out, but women don’t leave that easily.

The next two things God told me are nearly identical. About 10 days ago, God gave me this: “I am God’s temple.” Today he gave me, “I am the temple of the Lord.” I must not have been listening the first time.

This morning I was thinking about the things I have put inside myself over the years. If I really thought of myself as a temple, I wouldn’t have brought evil things in. Dirty movies, black humor, pornography and willful thoughts about sex, cruelty, covetousness, drunkenness, prolonged anger…who would bring things like this into a church? Yet I brought them into myself.

We are tempted all the time. Satan puts little seeds in front of us and tries to get them to take them inside and water them. I have a new, heartfelt understanding of the need to burn them in the doorway while he watches.

The Bible says the children of a righteous man speak with the enemy at the gate, not in the living room.

We don’t get healed. Our enemies walk all over us and laugh. We experience debt and poverty. We have bad marriages or no marriages at all. We experience sterility. We fail in our careers in spite of tithing and praying. We stay addicted. We stay fat. We remain trapped in cities where Christians don’t belong. We can’t get our problems fixed. Then we complain to God, as if he owed us. Meanwhile, we are filling his temples with sewage. We sign contracts with demons, giving them power over us, and then we want God to break the leases.

Our society is extremely sick. We are blind. The things we consider normal and acceptable are poisonous and outrageous. There are Christians who support Caitlyn Jenner and get angry at people who say he’s a man. There are Christians who cut up and tattoo their bodies, thinking they do it for Jesus. There are Christians who fornicate every day and still go to church; many are pastors and volunteers.

Still we wonder why God doesn’t help us.

In the Bible, God talks about making Baal’s temple into an outhouse. Of course he does. We make ourselves into the enemy’s temples, and we let the enemy fill us with excrement and garbage. There is always symmetry in the supernatural.

God turned Molech’s place of worship into Jerusalem’s city dump, and it’s where Judas hanged himself.

You don’t have to earn God’s help, but you do have to stop spitting in his face every day.

Mary Kay Baxter claims she visited hell. She said she saw demons that were embedded in the walls with only their upper parts free. I thought of that today. We have demons we can’t cast out. Maybe they can’t get out because they’re embedded in us. We give them the right to stay. Maybe we’re so good at embedding them, they can’t leave even if they want to.

We make our hearts like the interior of hell, so there must be a lot of unexpected similarities.

When we finally understand what Christianity is supposed to be, we are going to be very surprised, because we are extremely deceived right now. The life of a righteous person in 2018 is probably worse than the life of a prostitute was in 1700.

I hope these things are useful to you. I will update you from time to time.