Tech Wreck

One nice thing about having a blog is that when you have a problem you can’t solve, and you finally find the answer, you can put it on your blog for other people. Then you and they will be able to find the answer later.

I have been trying to set up a Zhiyun Crane M2 S camera gimbal so I can use it with my vlogging camera. It’s a very annoying process. You have to be able to set up the gimbal and the phone, and in the case of my Sony ZV1-M2 camera, which doesn’t fit the gimbal all that well, you have to know how to wire the camera and gimbal up.

I turned the gimbal on, and it told me “axis lock,” suggesting one of the axes on which a camera turns was stuck in the locked position.

Of course, this was totally wrong.

A gimbal rotates a camera, and in order to make this easier, the camera should be balanced, like a drawbridge. If your camera is not balanced, you will get an “axis lock” error, which should really be an “unbalanced” error.

To fix this, you balance the camera. One axis at a time, you turn the GREY levers and move the camera around until it’s NEARLY balanced. If it will fall one way as easily as the other, it’s balanced.

To connect a Sony ZV1-M2, you need to get the Sony Creator’s app, which will force you to consent to various violations of your privacy in order to use the camera you paid for.

You have to connect the camera to your phone (the app) first. The app will let you add more than one camera. You will probably be forced to download a huge firmware update before you can do anything. Using your camera’s screen, you go to your globe icon and then select something like “Connect to Smartphone.” Then you wait forever for your phone to download the update. Then you wait forever for your phone to shoot it into your camera using wifi. Then you wait forever for the camera to install the update.

When all this is done, you plug your USB-C cable into the side of the camera and the rear of the gimbal’s light. Far as I know, there is no way to connect the camera and gimbal wirelessly. The guy who sold me the gimbal in Hong Kong’s electronics district, where the prices are exactly what they are here, had to use a cable.

You set your camera up for something like “PC Remote” input even though you’re not using a PC or a remote.

When everything is working, you will not be able to use your gimbal to zoom the camera, but you can use a Sony or aftermarket remote to do it while you’re using the gimbal. Smallrig makes a better and cheaper remote than Sony. It comes as part of a small tripod. Magnetism makes it part of the handle, you can remove it and use it separately, and unlike a Sony remote, you can charge it instead of changing batteries. I don’t know what happens when the internal battery dies, however.

Guy on the web thinks it’s better to use the camera by itself, with image stabilization activated, and use something called Sony Catalyst Browse to fix any video issues caused by shaking.

This gimbal doesn’t fit the Sony very well as it came from the seller. I had to use a weird angle adaptor to make the camera fit against the gimbal while plugged in. I think they may make a new baseplate now.

That’s it.

The Internet is Really Something

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

Some highlights:

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

And you’re a psychotic liar.

It only gets weirder from there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John is not online except possibly at Find a Grave.

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

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

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

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

Here’s a really good one:

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

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

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

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

I think this is the most spectacular one:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Temptation Reveals Character

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ultimately, Puppets are Disposable

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

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

Now she criticizes the white parents who rescued her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We are all Christ-killers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not helpful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Him is on the Way

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

Talk about relieved.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trading Alligators for Bears

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe things have improved.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One More Shot at the Lost Continent

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It has to be Rome or Florence. Not both.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chicago Still Disappoints

I got suckered in again.

We were at the grocery, and I saw something I had never seen before: frozen Pizzeria Uno Chicago-style cheese pizza. Like a fool who never learns, having tried Lou Malnati’s acceptable frozen pizza and my own unimpressive homemade jobs, I bought one.

It’s not good.

The crust is hard pie crust with a tiny bit of air in it, and it’s not good pie crust. The shortening tastes old. The cheese is on the grainy side. The sauce is okay, but it can’t save everything else.

I just realized what the crust is like. You know those stale flat noodles they serve in bad Chinese restaurants as snacks? Imagine one of those big enough to put a pizza in.

The Malnati’s cheese pie I bought was pretty good. The shortening tasted less old, and the cheese was fine. But a decent Pizza Hut pan pizza is better. The sausage pie I tried was not good at all because the sausage sat under the sauce and got boiled.

As things stand now, I have to stand by my previous conclusion, which is that Chicago-style can be “worth making.” But let’s be honest. You could say that about oatmeal.

A good Sicilian is the best food possible. This is according to my rankings, which are, of course, correct. Top food on Earth: my own Sicilian. Number two: a good thin pizza. The style is not that important. It just has to be good. After that, prime rib. After that, my own cheesecake.

I think Chicago-style should probably be put in a second-rate pizza category along with frozen pizza, although I’m not sure Chicago-style can be as good as the best frozen pies. I do enjoy those Stouffer’s French bread pizzas.

Chicagoans themselves are not big fans of Chicago-style. They prefer the other Chicago-style, which is thin tavern pizza. How good can their deep dish be if the people who can get it whenever they want usually order something else?

My two Chicago-area-raised cousins love Malnati’s, but they seem to be out of sync with other people up there. I should try making Chicago tavern-style.

I threw out one slice of the Uno pie. I ate three because I was hungry. Very sad. Potential wasted for no good reason.

Why do people who cook for a living make bad food? That’s a perplexing question. If the food has to be cheap, or it has to have a 10-year shelf life, or it has some other weird condition to meet, like being vegan, sure, it may be impossible to make it taste good. But most food isn’t like that.

Let’s talk about kung pao chicken and fried pork dumplings. It costs the same amount of money to make bad Chinese food as good Chinese food, so why not do it right? Same amount of work. If you have a Chinese restaurant, and you’re Chinese, you can’t lie and pretend you can’t tell your food is bad. You should fix it. It’s 2024, and excellent recipes and videos are available to anyone. Why make bad food, then?

Still, most Chinese restaurants are very bad. No wonder the children of Chinese restaurateurs become plastic surgeons and cardiologists. They can’t take the shame.

The people who make this Uno mess know it’s no good. They’ve surely tried it. Surely no one would invest in a big business without trying the product.

I suppose that’s wrong. Maybe they haven’t tried it. Maybe some guy who runs a company that makes garbage frozen food for other businesses told them everything would be fine, and they believed it.

The web says Uno went public and was then taken private again, so now it’s owned by people who probably know nothing about pizza. That would explain a lot. I was thinking it might belong to heirs to were too busy doing coke and wrecking speedboats to watch the business.

Myron Mixon is supposed to be the world’s greatest BBQ pitmaster, but when he opened a restaurant in Miami, it served hog slop and closed with 3 Google stars. This, after he talked all sorts of smack about showing everyone what real BBQ was like. Humiliating. He blamed the people who actually owned and ran the restaurant. He claimed they wouldn’t meet standards. A name isn’t enough to make food taste good.

He shouldn’t have talked smack if he wasn’t going to be on the premises to maintain standards. Ridiculous error for a chef. Every cook knows that as soon as the guy who knows what he’s doing leaves the kitchen to use the can, everything goes crazy. A kitchen is lucky if it has one person who can actually make it work. The rest are all hourly NPC’s.

Uno frozen pizza is nasty, so if you try it after reading this, you have only yourself to blame.

When do I Board my Flight Out of Here?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I almost think Wilkerson can smell a TV camera.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When is He Coming?

Written on August 6.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Really?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Children work in political campaigns. They go to rallies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I Thought I Heard a Scream and a Thump”

I’m sitting around watching the storm news. It’s not easy to stop, because it keeps changing all the time. One minute, you’re sure the problem is gone. The next, it seems to be headed your way again.

I guessed this thing would land near Apalachicola, endangering possibly tens of homes and a half-built Valero station. Sadly for me, it made a lurch to the east between 5 p.m. and 8 p.m., so now it’s looking more like it will be maybe 30 miles east of Apalachicola, making it closer to me as it passes my latitude.

I can’t believe they named the storm Debby. They spelled it wrong, and every self-anointed wit on the web is saying things like, “Debby does Tampa.”

The TV weather people look unbelievably disappointed. I can almost hear the men thinking, “I waxed my chest for this?” Not that I’m saying all TV weathermen are gay. I’m sure some of them are not.

They thought it would be a hurricane at 8 p.m. tonight, and it’s still just a tropical storm. The farther it goes without becoming a hurricane, the less likely it is to to make the cut and the weaker it will be when it finally finds Florida.

It’s so lame, they’re forecasting gusts, not sustained winds. Gusts are the smartphone filters of hurricane forecasts. They make storms seem much more impressive than they are.

Andrew hit my dad’s house down south with sustained winds of about 170 miles per hour. Debby is forecast to hit Crystal River, which will be closer to the eye than I am, with 46 mile-per-hour gusts. That could mean sustained winds of 20 or even 10 miles per hour. We had a stiff gust early this afternoon–maybe 25 miles per hour–when the background wind was basically nonexistent.

Saying a storm has 70 mile-per-hour gusts is like Burt Reynolds saying, “I’m about six-one,” when everyone knew he wore boots with 4″ heels.

Some guy from Accuweather was practically squawking that Debby would be Category 2 upon arrival. He wanted to sound serious, so he didn’t use his indoor voice. Channel 10 in Tampa, in contrast, has given up. They keep saying, “This will not be a WIND storm.” If it’s not a wind storm where you are, it’s not a hurricane. It means the real hurricane either missed you or didn’t exist.

I think they see the writing on the wall and don’t want to be embarrassed.

Debby was “doing” 70 at 8 p.m., already north of Tampa, and Cat 2 starts at 96. I do not see that happening.

Debby could be one of those storms that shocks everyone, but obviously, unusual storms are less likely than normal storms.

Channel 8 has a thing they call the Wobble Tracker, and it’s really just a live radar feed with the historic and anticipated future track superimposed on it. At 9:20, it looked like the eye of the storm was breaking up and moving back west a little. I wonder if it’s dying. That would be great. And hilarious.

I have already suffered with this storm, though. We got maybe two hours of very heavy rain, and we had dinner while it was coming down. I looked out the window while we were eating, and I saw water coming over the side of a roof gutter instead of going out the downspout.

I have a guy who cleans my gutters, but I don’t believe in calling him unless I see a problem. I looked at the gutters several weeks ago, and I thought they were fine. Looks like I was wrong.

I went outside in the nasty rain and saw that water was pouring over the top of the downspout, so something was blocking the flow.

I thought maybe there were leaves inside the downspout. I paid to have the leaves removed from the gutter, but I never mentioned the downspouts.

I really did not want to climb out a bedroom window and try to check the gutter and downspouts from the roof. I did not want to ruin my wife’s Sunday by dying. I came up with a plan. I got my giant backpack blower, inserted the nozzle in the bottom of one downspout, and fired away. Black, rotten leaves and dirty water blew out of the downspout, and most of it came down on my back.

The water flowed better, but I was not sure all was well.

As I was already wet and filthy, I decided to get on a ladder and look at the gutter from the top. There was a lot of junk in there. I reached in and pulled some out, but I knew where I was going. It wasn’t enough.

Before long, I was on the roof in pouring rain, wearing only gym shorts and hiking shoes, grabbing filth out of the gutter and throwing it in a mop bucket. Nice. Welcome to home ownership. You have to fix stuff when it needs to be fixed, regardless of whether it’s fun. Otherwise, you pay a steep price. It’s not like being a kid or a tenant. They get to do nothing.

It was better than having water back up into the house and ruin the kitchen ceiling. I came back in, covered with dirty water, and asked my wife if she was glad she wasn’t the husband at that moment. She most certainly was.

She told me how lame most husbands seemed to her, compared to me. I didn’t see that coming. She said most men can’t do anything. Her brother-in-law’s rented house had a bad lock on a gate, and when his family moved to another house, a locksmith had to be called to fix it.

It’s nice to be appreciated. All those years getting acquainted with tools have paid off. It’s too bad I didn’t know enough about gutters, though.

Now the gutter and downspouts are 90% clean, which is enough to keep the water moving until the storm goes away. I plan to make a PVC-pipe tool to attach to a blower to reach into the gutter and blow leaves out. Doing it by hand is not very safe, since the only thing between me and concrete is a pool enclosure screen. Part of the roof by the pool is very steep.

I am going to try to go to sleep. The storm looks like it’s getting weaker, not stronger, and in any case, it appears to pose no threat to my property. There is a chance a neighbor’s tree could fall across a wire and kill my power, but that’s about as bad as it should get.

Luckily for me, a power company employee lives on this street.

Hunker Down with Peyton and Hayden

I got some comments on the post I wrote about getting homeowner’s insurance. I was trying to decide whether I should get insurance with or without wind coverage, which is often extremely expensive. Based on last year’s huge premium, along with the large deductibles and the low likelihood of serious damage, I figured it was best to skip wind coverage.

No one can explain how insurance companies work. Some people defend them, claiming we are not smart enough to understand their math. They think it all makes sense somehow. That isn’t true. If it were true, similar coverage from different companies would cost about the same amount, but it doesn’t.

I had GEICO for my cars. They wanted $5,000. Suddenly. I could not believe it. I called around, and I got just about the same coverage from State Farm for about half as much. It’s still ridiculous, but it’s not $5,000.

When I was looking for medical insurance for this year, my old company wanted the moon and stars. Another outfit gave me the same policy, more or less, for a much lower price. I forget the disparity. Maybe a third less.

The insurance seems to work, although once I ended up screaming at a woman in India.

If insurance companies were rational, they would make similar decisions about covering various areas. Some companies have left Florida, however, while many continue to insure homes here.

Last year, I was told my home insurance, hurricanes included because of my rotten trees, was going from about $3,400 to $6,000, and then they ended up increasing it to $8,000. I called–literally–every company I could find on the web. I couldn’t find a single one that would write a policy at any price. Because of hurricanes? No. Because of cattle. I have cattle on my farm to kill property taxes.

I knew hurricanes were causing disturbances in the insurance force, but the cow thing took me by surprise. I had no idea. The weirdest thing about it is that they didn’t care about horses. Hello? Christopher Reeve? People fall off horses. Horses kick people. What do cattle do? Eat, sleep, and poop.

Have rogue herds been escaping from farms and taking over towns? I have not heard about it.

Please don’t tell me you know a company that would have insured me, because you don’t. You may think you do, but you’re wrong. Don’t tell me Farmers Insurance would have insured me. They refused. Don’t tell me State Farm would have done it. They refused. Having “Farm” and “Farmer” in their names didn’t mean anything.

I went to a cattle forum for advice, I said no one would insure me, and some cranky old guy who worked in insurance told me not to tell me his job. He assured me a certain company would cover me. They wouldn’t. He looked pretty stupid.

So now I can’t get insurance because I have cattle, right? Wrong. This year, they don’t care about cattle. I got several quotes. No problem with the cattle. No explanation.

This time, I ended up getting pretty much the same policy I bought last year, for around $3,000. So it went $3,400, $8,000, $3,000. It’s like they used one of those lottery ping pong ball machines. I got the $3,000 policy from a real company people know about, not the obscure insurer that covered me last time. Ramon’s of Hialeah.

I have no idea what’s going on.

I was truthful with the agent I talked to. He knows about the cattle. He knew a tropical storm was coming. Didn’t care. He offered an insanely low price for insurance without wind coverage, and then he told me I could add wind coverage and pay only $3,000.

I still think wind coverage is stupid for people in my county, but my wife was nervous about it, and the price was right, so I took it.

That’s my insurance story. Try and explain it if you want.

Here is what I would do if I ran an insurance company: I would charge the snot out of people near the coast, and I would give huge breaks to people inland. I would not spread the risk around, alienating a huge number of low-risk people who were unlikely to file claims. I would make those people my target demographic. I would treat the coast like the coast, and I would treat the interior like Missouri.

Insurers make money in Missouri, selling only to people who are safe from hurricanes, charging modest prices. If that is true, they should be able to make money in the interior of Florida. Getting rid of high-risk clients who refuse to pay high prices shouldn’t matter, and getting huge premiums from high-risk clients who are willing to pay should work out just fine.

As far as the storm goes, they have named it Debby, which is odd, because everyone else spells that name “Debbie.” It will not be a problem here. There are reasons.

1. Prayer.

2. It doesn’t have the potential to strengthen much.

3. It’s going to make landfall in the panhandle, far away.

4. The projected track keeps moving farther west, away from me.

5. I spent $7,500 cutting all the trees that threatened my buildings.

The way storm tracking works is interesting.

I always look at the “static cone” pictures from the National Hurricane Center. The pointy part of the cone is the storm’s location. The fat end is where it will probably be hours and days later. The cones are not all that unreliable these days. If they say a storm will land in Miami, it’s not going to land in New Orleans. Storms usually go within maybe a couple of hundred miles of the places cones say they will, as long as we’re talking about cones drawn within a couple of days of landfall.

That brings up the second point.

A cone itself will show whether a storm is drifting in a certain compass direction, but you can also look at a succession of cones. The NHC’s site doesn’t offer the option of looking at cones over several days, but you can always save cone images on your PC and look at them later.

Cones are updated every three hours. If you look at a succession of cones over a couple of days, you will see the cones themselves generally drift. Weather guys may start out saying a certain storm is expected to hit Fort Myers, and then 36 hours later, they may say it’s headed for Destin. Destin may be completely outside of the cone the weather guys were using when they said the storm would hit Fort Myers.

If you watch the way the cones themselves drift, you get a better picture of what’s really going to happen. A cone predicts where a storm will go, based on knowledge obtained over a short period of time. A succession of cones where future cones will go, based on observations over a longer period. I think smart people look at successions of cones.

Weather guys often get overexcited by early cones that seem to indicate landfalls in highly-populated areas. “IT’S BARRELING DOWN ON PALM BEACH!!!” Everybody in Palm Beach tunes in. The weather guys get better ratings, so their employers can charge more for ads in the future. Then the storm goes to Titusville.

They LOVE “barreling down.” They say it constantly. Well, when they’re not saying “hurtling toward.” They say Beryl BARRELED DOWN on Texas.

It’s a weird expression. I have never seen a barrel hit anything.

I sincerely believe the weather guys don’t care. I think they and their bosses are only interested in money. They don’t care if they freak people out for nothing. Or maybe they’re just not smart enough to understand cone drift. A lot of meteorologists are physics majors, though. That’s odd, because I didn’t notice a lot of gays when I was studying physics.

The latest cone is centered around a tiny town called St. Marks, directly south of Tallahassee. But the cones keep drifting westward, so I think Apalachicola is a more likely landfall.

In any case, it looks like it’s going to land where there are almost no people. Sorry, Apalachicolans. You know it’s true. Remember how excited you were when you thought you were going to get your own Arby’s? Sorry that didn’t pan out.

Mmm. Beef ‘N Cheddar. I was telling my wife about them just the other day.

I don’t care if it’s not real meat.

Don’t fret, panhandlers. It looks like you’re getting a Category 1, so as long as you tie your boats up right, it shouldn’t be too bad. Moderate storm surge and some wind.

I hope people up there have cut problem trees.

Whoever gets hit wants to be west of the eye, because on that side, there will be no storm surge. The wind will be blowing the water away from shore. If the eye is to the east of Apalachicola, things should go well.

A lot of the panhandle is nearly-empty swamp. It’s amazing how few people live on a huge stretch of land right on the water. The government owns a ton of it. Maybe they’re doing Area 51 stuff to kidnapped Florida Men. It would explain a lot.

“Okay, Jayden and Brayden. Try not to chew on the straps, and in no time at all, you’ll be back in your bass boat. No, you can’t tell Ashlee and McKayla where you are.”

It’s actually kind of funny that people in Manhattan think Florida Men are the crazy ones. Someone should erect a giant mirror along the Hudson.

Within two days, it would be covered by a gay BLM mural.

Well, that’s it. I got insurance. Spent too much so the wife would be happy. Feel like I wasted a lot of money.

Hurricane Insurance Time

Today I’m trying to finalize my homeowner’s insurance.

Last year, I paid $8,000 for insurance. A fortune. Most of it was due to the hurricane problem.

In my mind, Florida policies are divided in two parts: ordinary insurance and hurricane insurance. The latter part is what kills us. I can get pretty good insurance here for under $1,300, but I have to omit storm insurance.

Storm insurance usually has a deductible so high it is useless for anyone whose house doesn’t, at minimum, lose a big percentage of its roof. If, for example, a storm ruins your landscaping and takes out a garage door and a bunch of windows, you’re going to pay for all of it, plus your insurance premium. I’m looking at deductibles in the area of $40,000. I would have to have extremely serious damage to make a $40,000 deductible anything but a total liability shield for my insurer.

The question for a homeowner is whether the high price and low reward are justified by the risk of damage.

Determining the risk of damage is difficult because just about everyone in every industry behaves like a hysterical woman when discussing hurricanes. They make gross exaggerations.

I just saw a graphic saying that winds above Category 4 were catastrophic and would “destroy” “most” affected homes. That’s not even nearly true.

I was in Andrew, before the post-Andrew building codes. Sustained winds in my county approached 180 mph. Hurricanes are measured by sustained winds, not gusts. A wind is sustained if it lasts at least 60 seconds. Anything beneath 60 seconds is a gust.

The Chicken Littles love to rate storms by their gusts. That’s dishonest. They’ll say, “This storm packs winds of up to seventy miles an hour!” Yeah, and they last 4 seconds. It’s the sustained winds that count.

When Andrew hit Miami, tens of thousands of homes were hit by sustained winds over 150 mph, so of course, most were completely destroyed. Not. In fact, only a tiny percentage were destroyed. I was in my dad’s house, and we got winds of around 170 mph. We didn’t lose the roof, one wall, or one window. We didn’t lose one roof tile.

It was a bad time. The yard was a mess. Big trees went down. But the house wasn’t destroyed.

Even in the famous Country Walk development, which suffered damage so bad tourists drove by and shot video, generally, houses were not completely destroyed. Many lost their flimsy second stories, but they were not destroyed.

Over the last few years, I have held the belief that I live in a hurricane-proof area. I based that on research. I was not able to find any evidence that my area had EVER sustained hurricane-force winds, meaning winds of at least 75 mph. There have been tropical storm winds. The term “tropical storm winds” means winds of between 40 and 74 mph. But in reality, we almost always get the lower end of the scale, for brief periods.

I have walked around in my yard during periods when Chicken Littles on news stations were screeching about our winds, and it was actually pleasant.

Because I have been preparing to reinsure, I have been doing more research lately. I saw something disturbing. A website implied Ocala, the nearest big city, had been hit by a storm with 161-mph winds in 1928. I was about to get insurance without wind coverage, but that made me pause and do more research. I thought maybe I was wrong to forgo wind insurance.

Then I found out the website, Firststreet.org, was broadcasting nonsense. It looks like it’s a garbage website.

The 1928 storm made landfall in West Palm, with winds of 145 mph. Hurricanes weaken as they approach land, and when they come ashore, they weaken even more. West Palm is 250 miles away, so you can imagine what the winds were like once the storm got to the place where my house stands.

The way hurricanes weaken is interesting.

When you see a meteorologist joyfully proclaiming a storm has Category 4 or 5 winds, most of the time, the storm will be over water, far off the coast. That’s because hurricanes get all of their power from hot air rising off warm water. Closer to shore, the water is cooler, so the winds drop. Just before hurricanes make landfall, they are generally considerably weaker than they were over the water.

When their eyes hit land, things really fall apart. The power source is gone at that point. You never see a hurricane eye in Georgia or Alabama. Just disorganized rain and wind.

I am about 40 miles from the coast on one side and 70 on the other. Forty miles may not seem like a big distance compared to a hurricane, but it’s a very effective buffer.

I can’t find any record of hurricane winds hitting this place. Orlando is slightly less favorably situated, and it has never had anything worse than Category 1, which means 75-95. I haven’t found any authority saying they even hit 75. ChatGPT thinks Orlando maxed out at 59, and I can’t find any record of Disney World being hit by a hurricane.

Disney World is about 53 years old.

ChatGPT’s best guess at my area’s top recorded sustained wind is 61 mph, back in 2017. I was here. The house was here. No damage. Just tree problems, with two landing on fences. I don’t recall seeing anything that looked like a 61-mile-per-hour storm. Humorously, there is an article from the local paper that says Irma came through “packing” 65-mile-per-hour winds. They love “packing” and “hurtling.”

What about water?

Coastal people are the real hurricane victims, unless you count inland people who live in feeble structures or near trees that should be cut. Coastal people get the highest winds, and they also get storm surge and flooding. Flooding comes from both rain and storm surge.

I get no storm surge. I get no flooding. Before my dad bought this place, I checked it out, and it really can’t flood. The government has a website that tells you where floods can happen.

Flooding and storm surge are impossibilities.

What about tornadoes?

There, I have a problem. No one can predict where a tornado will hit, and there have been a few in this area since I arrived. They didn’t flatten houses, but they did damage roofs pretty badly. If I give up wind insurance, I won’t be able to keep tornado insurance. It’s all or nothing.

There are thousands and thousands of houses here. Almost none have been hit by tornadoes since I arrived, but it could happen to me, just as I could be struck by lightning. Should I insure against it?

Doubtful. Those deductibles are really something, compared to the likely damage.

One nice thing about a tornado is that getting repairs fast afterward is a cinch. After a bad hurricane or tropical storm, all the contractors get booked up fast, so people with homes they can’t live in have to find temporary quarters and hope no one loots their properties. Tornadoes don’t affect enough people to tie up a lot of contractors.

I can build a new house without help if I have to, but there is no way a storm will make total reconstruction necessary, so there is no way an insurer will pay that much. I might need total reconstruction if there is a fire, but that’s covered without wind coverage.

My inclination is to forget wind insurance. It’s mainly a way to put coastal people on welfare. Insurers know I won’t have any wind claims, and they know coastals don’t want to pay $15,000 for insurance, so they spread the cost out, putting the screws to me in order to make their product cheaper and more appealing to coastals. It’s like the health insurance people in their twenties pay. They don’t get sick, so their money goes to old people with COPD, cirrhosis, and type 2 diabetes.

It’s not a conspiracy theory. My buddy Mike knows an insurance broker, and he told Mike the purpose of high premiums in areas like mine was to pay for damage far away, on the coasts.

I wish people would stop lying about hurricanes. They get excited about them. We love exaggerating misfortune, trying to impress each other with our delusional versions of what is likely to go wrong. In the case of hurricanes, it makes it hard to get important information.

I will make a decision today.

We’ll just Revise Orwell

Youtube has a rather queer take on the meaning of the term “hate speech.”

Yesterday, I watched a video by a guy who calls himself Decoy Voice. He used to live in LA. He moved elsewhere because the woketosity was choking him. He is of Korean extraction. He makes funny videos about the left.

He put up a video about MSM censorship and lies, and when I say “MSM,” I include the social media sites, because in my opinion, they are now part of the MSM.

I got curious, so I went to ChatGPT and posted a statement, not a question. I used the version of ChatGPT that is supposedly up to date on the state of the world. I got a funny response.

Me: Trump got shot in the ear.

ChatGPT: “There have been no reports or credible news sources indicating that former President Donald Trump has been shot in the ear or injured in any way recently. If this were true, it would be major news and widely covered by media outlets.”

The robot admitted its mistake after I uploaded a link to an article about the shooting.

I copied the above exchange and posted it as a Youtube comment, and my comment was taken down after about 5 minutes. I got a 24-hour hate speech ban. I admit, I also used the word “idiots,” but other people get away with worse things all day.

It’s so weird, being a second-class citizen–a dhimmi–in the United States of America. I don’t know when all of my ancestors got here, but some were here as early as the 1600’s, and none arrived after the 19th century, so I am as much a product of the United States as a person can be. But here I am, having my First Amendment rights nullified by random nuts with multicolored 1970’s punk hairstyles.

I saw another funny video the other day. A young white man was interviewing black people in a ghetto, politely, and some guy started calling the young man’s friend, an older white man, “boy.” Then he started talking about how he had been torn away from his homeland, Africa. He expected privilege.

First of all, Africa isn’t anyone’s homeland, because Africa isn’t a land. It’s not a country. It’s a gigantic subcontinent of Eurasia, about 2/3 the size of Asia. It contains 54 countries. Imagine saying, “Europe is my homeland,” or, “South America is my homeland.”

Second, the ghetto guy has never been to Africa. His African ancestors all came here by 1808, when slave importation ended and the blacks who sold whites (and blacks) his ancestors lost a lot of customers.

He is as American as I am. He would have no idea what to do if he were dropped in any country in Africa, and if my African wife is to be believed, he would be considered more or less white, because Africans tend to lump black and white Americans together. She says Kenyans consider the Obamas white.

Third, and this is the funny part, the kid doing the interview said, “It’s a plane ride away.” The ghetto guy was middle-aged, he was complaining that Africa was his homeland and he had been torn from it, and he had never bought a plane ticket and gone home.

A ticket from New York to, say, Lagos can be had for under $900, and that’s round-trip. A real African trying to get back to his homeland would fly one way, at a cost of under $500. Flights are around 13 hours long, so you could leave in the evening, sleep on the plane, and wake up relatively fresh to be welcomed and called white by your amused Nigerian brothers.

Anyone can come up with $500, especially in New York, where you can steal from stores without interference. Empty a few shelves at CVS, sell the products on the street in front of the store, and you’re off to Mother Africa in a couple of days. This is, literally, a workable plan.

Or, just to spitball, you could get a job.

If you want to make a liar with a parasitic attitude angry, just say, “You’re not a victim.” It enrages them. I used to say it to my sister. Her head nearly blew off her shoulders and flew around the room like a balloon. I was dynamiting the foundation of her ethos.

They find it as infuriating as any conventional insult. You don’t have to mention their mothers. You don’t have to criticize their looks. Just say, “You’re not a victim.”

Is it a good idea to say it? Well, yes, most of the time. Unless it puts you in danger. Deflating lies is good and necessary.

Say, “You’re not a victim, and you cause all your problems.” The response will amaze you. Before you do it, make provision for your safety.

I say it to myself all the time. It’s very helpful. I recommend it.

My head hasn’t flown off yet.

When you tell a BLM-minded racist he’s not a victim, or that he can be back in his dream country tomorrow, you are destroying his reason for living and his main source of leverage.

You’re giving yourself white privilege forgiveness. Leftists love debt forgiveness, right?

Here we are, two native-born Americans. One of us can spray racist lies all he wants, on every platform imaginable. He won’t be censored; he’ll probably be promoted by algorithms, and he may be paid. The other can’t even say ChatGPT claims Trump wasn’t shot.

It sort of sounds like I’m claiming to be a victim.

I do say I am mistreated, but I don’t think mistreatment from others is the source of all my problems. God showed me how to get on top of things back in the 1980’s, but I moved away from him and stopped applying his advice. My life would have gotten better a long, long time ago had I listened to him. So yes, I am treated very badly, but things are going extremely well for me anyway, and I believe they would have gone well for me much sooner had I done what was right.

What about my childhood? Okay, I was a victim then. I suppose. I couldn’t be held responsible for much at that stage. Even so, I believe there are children who are close to God and live blessed lives in spite of being surrounded by enemies.

God says he prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies. That’s more than good enough.

By the symmetry of the supernatural, he must also prepare curses and misery for my enemies in my presence. That is clearly happening. Look at the disgusting lives they lead. Then they go to hell.

“A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand by thy right hand, but it shall not come nigh thee. Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward of the wicked.”

I had a funny revelation today about this Onlyfans/BLM/Antifa world we now live in.

I say “Onlyfans” because we now face sexual temptation unlike anything in Western history. It is nothing short of amazing. One example: our neighbors are porn creators now. Think your son’s algebra teacher is attractive? You may be able to see more of her.

Our female celebrities are sluttier than ever. Really awful.

I now think that when I am in the right company, and I discuss women who are heavily involved in sexual temptation, I should use the term “dirty whores.” I plan to use it in my own mind, at the very least.

It sounds pretty bad, but it serves a purpose. Many women are out there normalizing whoredom. We’ve gotten used to them. We even let them into our social circles, and we interact with them a lot like we interact with decent women. They’re not the same.

“Dirty whore” is a slap in the face that brings you back to reality. She’s funny, she’s smart, she seems nice…oh, wait. She’s a dirty whore. She’s a trap. She’s going to hell before long. She destroys blessings.

Now when I see someone like Beyonce or Kim Kardashian on the web, I’ll remember to think this to myself: “dirty whore.” I might have legal problems if I said it or wrote it openly in front of the wrong people, because the women in question might not satisfy the legal definition of “whore,” but I can say it to myself and with friends. Look at those dirty whores.

Very, very helpful. It will help me see useless women as they are, and it will surely improve my opinion of decent women.

I also feel I should use the term “son of Satan” to describe useless men, for the same reasons. “Dave Chappelle is really funny.” Yes, but he’s a son of Satan. Don’t let yourself feel a kinship. “I enjoy Stevie Ray Vaughan’s music.” Son of Satan. Let him go. Throw your CD’s out.

I don’t know a lot of sons of Satan personally these days, but I do know at least one person I should think of as a dirty whore. Someone I like. Can’t be helped. Yeshua said it was better to cut your own hand off than to take it with you to hell.

Would Yeshua agree with me about harsh language? The fake gay Buddhist vegan version of him leftists have invented would not, but what about the real one who gave Moses the law and burned Sodom?

He called the religious authorities of his time–the equivalents of popes and televangelists–sons of Satan. I don’t recall him calling anyone a whore in the New Testament, but his spirit wrote the Old Testament, and “whore” appears in it a lot.

I added “dirty” to give it a little more punch in my silent musings.

Yeshua wouldn’t let whores and pimps tithe or give offerings.

What about using these terms to the people you’re applying them to?

Female hypocrites can benefit a lot from being called whores. When people let you slide all your life, you don’t correct yourself. A word of correction from someone bold and truthful can wake you out of your trance.

I think sons of Satan are less likely to be shocked and concerned when they are confronted.

I belonged to two churches that let pregnant single sluts sing and dance on their stages. Those girls needed correction, not glory. If they church failed to help them, who was supposed to step in? They are probably worse now than ever, and their fatherless children are probably doomed.

The point of using harsh words isn’t to hurt people’s feelings needlessly or to feed self-righteousness. It’s to restore perspective. The truth is important.

I say extremely harsh things to myself, to help me to be humble and honest. If it helps me, it should help others who are not too proud to receive it. Not that I plan to go around using harsh terms to people’s faces. It’s mainly an internal thing.

In any case, I’m glad to know Trump wasn’t shot. I was fooled there for a while.

This World Belongs to Perverts

Hurrah. The Olympics are back.

I have never been a real sports fan. I followed boxing a little, mostly because I boxed, but that’s about it. My dad was a selfish father when I was young, so he didn’t spend a lot of time indoctrinating me in our national sports religion. He didn’t teach me how to play sports better. He didn’t push me to participate.

Nonetheless, I used to watch the Olympics.

As you surely know, our modern Olympic games started in 1896. The ancient Greeks had Olympic games, but they quit for some reason, and somebody decided to resurrect the tradition. The Greeks competed naked because they were disgusting degenerates, and only men were allowed to compete and attend.

It must have been a lot like the pool parties closeted actors threw during the last century.

The Olympics used to be a big deal. They were only held once every four years, making them seem considerably more important than they were. Even families that were not sports-minded would huddle around the TV to see how the medal count went. The Russians and other Communists always cheated. Their athletes were drugged professionals. Their judges were crooked. It was always nice to see America’s amateurs do well against the commies.

I still remember the theme music from the 1976 games. I can hear it in my head right now.

Now the Olympics seem to be going on all the time. They take place every two years. It’s not nearly as dramatic as it once was. In the old days, an athlete who crashed and burned in his first olympiad generally had only one chance to qualify again and redeem himself. That made a difference to spectators. There were top athletes who seemed cursed. They did well everywhere except at the Olympics. We sympathized with them as they faded into obscurity without medals. Now they get chance after chance. Boring.

I would guess I quit watching the games after 1976. I don’t recall watching the 1980 games. I never watch now.

What are the Olympics, and all spectator sports (including your son’s league soccer matches) about? Hellenism.

The term “Hellenism” refers to the adoption of Greek customs. It was a plague to the ancient Jews. The Jews worshiped logs and rocks, they burned their children alive as sacrifices to evil spirits, and God allowed other nations to rule Israel. When the Greeks had their turn, as the dominant culture, they created gymnasiums (Greek word meaning “place of nudity”) in Israel.

They were more powerful than the Jews, so Jews who wanted money and favor kissed up to them. They began participating in the naked games. The gyms of ancient Israel were like today’s country clubs. They were places to make contacts in order to gain wealth, power, and social standing.

Jews were required to wear clothing. You can’t obey the Mosaic law and run around naked in front of the general public. Nonetheless, Jewish men currying favor were glad to put their clothing aside. Problem: without clothing, they were more obviously Jewish. They were circumcised.

Adding to the abomination of competing naked in contests dedicated to evil spirits, some Jews quit circumcising their sons, and some resorted to primitive procedures to make themselves appear uncircumcised.

This was a very big deal. Jews call a circumcision a bris or brit, and this word means “contract.” No circumcision, no contract with God. Usually, the word “covenant” is used instead of “contract,” but they mean the same thing.

Hellenism lives today. We treat illiterate young men of poor character like gods. We skip church to play and watch sports. We teach kids pride and hard work, which are not Christian values. Christianity is about humility and inheritance. The Bible doesn’t glorify anyone for working hard. It says hard work is a curse. It’s a curse for the proud.

We also teach kids aggression through sports. Remember where the Bible says the aggressive will inherit the earth?

Sports teaches kids to become losers or turn other kids into losers. In a competition, there can only be one winner. For every gold medal winner, there are literally millions of losers who were weeded out before they even reached the qualifying stage. When medals are presented, two losers–and they are losers, because they lost–have to stand on a platform and suffer the indignity of watching the worldwide audience worship the winner.

Christianity makes every child of God a winner. We are supposed to help each other win, not just in life, but in eternity.

Sports celebrate the flesh, a relatively worthless bag of meat that is intended to serve us and which weakens and decays pretty quickly after we turn 30.

The flesh has no lasting value. Jim Thorpe’s flesh rotted, just like Muhammad Ali’s and Jesse Owens’. Even in their exalted lifetimes, their flesh only beat other people’s flesh for a few years. Then they became weak and slow like everyone else. No one wants to watch a 40-year-old sprinter.

Who was the strongest man who ever lived? Who cares? Worms ate his stinking, rotten body. Where is his spirit now? That’s what matters.

Christians are supposed to pursue things that last. New brothers and sisters in salvation. Heaven. Good deeds. Things that don’t last are traps.

We have a Hellenist society, and the resurrection of the Olympics made it worse.

Now we are having games in Paris. They just had a huge opening ceremony, which the Olympic Committee will not let us see. They are threatening Youtubers who post videos. Their own site doesn’t have the video. Why is that?

It’s because the opening ceremony was an open celebration of evil; especially sexual perversion.

When you hide what you’ve done, it’s usually a sign you know it was wrong.

By now, you have seen the bearded man with butt implants, prancing in a slutty costume and pretending to be a woman. You have seen the skin-crawl-inducing homosexual who painted himself blue and pretended to be Dionysus, singing in a fruity voice and making coy gestures and glances toward his private parts. If you’ve seen him, you know he was presented as a Passover lamb at a blasphemous drag-heavy parody of the last supper. A huge-breasted, whorishfat person who may or may not be a woman wore a plastic halo and pretended to be Yeshua.

You may also have seen the strange hooded robot who rode a mechanical horse out of the Seine, to be replaced by a similarly-garbed person who presented France’s prime minister with the Olympic flag. The horseman looked for all the world like the pale horseman of the apocalypse. The pale horseman is disease and death.

They are saying the horseman represented the pagan goddess of the Seine. I can see that. What happens to people who swim in the Seine? Disease and death.

Notre Dame should burn the rest of the way to the ground. Its existence means nothing now.

So what was the message of the ceremony? I’ll tell you.

“We won.”

The ceremony was a triumph, inasmuch as a triumph is a public celebration thrown by conquerors. This is what the word “triumph” means. When the Romans burned cities and enslaved people, they threw triumphs in Rome. They exhibited captives and things they had taken from them. At one triumph, they celebrated the looting and destruction of God’s holy temple, as well as the murder and exile of Jews.

The Olympic ceremony was Satan’s children, saying, “Our victory is complete. You are conquered. From now on, we treat you as we please, and you serve us. We will do anything we want in front of you and your children, and we will design our antics to maximize your impotent rage and offense.”

To Satan’s children, the ceremony was a victory lap. To us, it was a deliberate humiliation we will have to swallow without meaningful resistance.

I was thinking of getting up and eating a healthy breakfast today. I changed my mind. I had a pint of sweet hot chocolate accompanied by a ton of carbs. Why suffer to invest in a future that can’t exist? There is no American dream. Not for the foreseeable future. There is only the Messianic Age, or death and heaven, to look forward to.

Scott Adams was wrong. We don’t need to “get the hell away from black people.” We need to get away from the people of Earth; Satan’s children. Race and nationality are irrelevant. Adams got sucked into a snare. He focused on one group, and he generalized unfairly. The real problem group is the children of Satan, and like the children of God, they come from all peoples.

These people have no future. They are like the flesh. Not made to last. Today they are here, and soon they will be burning in hell. We will forget them. We will not remember knowing them. The things we did with them, which seemed important at the time, will, if remembered at all, be recalled as wastes of time and resources. Wastes of ourselves.

The word says God could remove us from the world as soon as we receive salvation, but he leaves us here for the sole purpose of reaching others. That isn’t happening now. Our mission has become impossible. There is no purpose in wrestling any more. The others have made their choice, firmly.

Young people can’t understand what has happened. They have no idea what normal life is like. They think older people are overreacting. We’re underreacting. Even we have gotten too used to the new reality.

I can’t tell people anything. I know how Yeshua felt. He did compassionate miracles in front of religious Jews who claimed to represent the God who calls himself love, and instead of listening to him, they decided to kill him. They were the swine he was talking about when he said that if you cast pearls before swine, they would turn and cut you up. We are his pearls. The swine are all around us now.

Mrs. Joe Biden, having little to do on her way to obscurity in Wilmington, is in Paris. She loved the ceremony. What an imbecile. The US is hosting the Olympics next time, and she says we have to “top” Paris.

We have to do better than blaspheming the last supper and presenting hopeless, doomed perverts trying to lure men into sodomy, HPV, herpes, syphilis, gonorrhea, hepatitis, castration, and AIDS.

Where do we go from here, Jill? Live nude homosexual acts on a big stage? Should we burn some unwanted children on a big stage and try to summon Satan?

We are done here. The ground of the harvest has become like brass to us. The yield is getting close to zero.

People are so evil now, I pray more for bad people than for people who are good to me. This has been true for years. I’m so used to being shocked by sin and motivated to pray for habitual sinners, I don’t think much about the fact that righteous people should be helped. I forget to pray for people who have a chance at salvation.

Take it. Take the earth. You can have it as soon as my brothers and sisters and I can get out of here. Take the whole thing. I don’t even want to stay here and coexist with you. I don’t want to see or hear you any more. It serves no purpose. I feel like I’m letting you get away with stealing my garbage.

The ceremony was bad. Think what November and next year will be like. Kamala Harris is a borderline moron. She will say or do absolutely anything to get through the next minute, relying on our socialist press to catch her. She has no core except self-worship. She will probably lose, because she is impossible to respect and very hard to like. What happens if Trump wins? Do we even have enough SWAT teams and fire hydrants to keep up?

If he wins, it will be by a slim margin, so the left will say he stole the election. That lie will be used to justify violence and crime much worse than what we saw a few years ago. There will be no coming back from it, because leftists don’t want to come back. Appeasers never seem to understand this: Satan’s children don’t like being appeased. They want an excuse to continue destroying others.

My friend Mike has a son who works at one of the big Manhattan financial houses. He wants an AR-15.

He lives in Jersey and has to commute every day by train. He says gangs of antisemites are roaming the cars, threatening people and spewing hate and lies. Why don’t you know about this? Well, he says that if you try to hold up a phone and film them, you get a beating. And the press doesn’t care. It sides with the antisemites, just like it sides with the persecutors of Christians who murder us every day all over the Muslim world.

Mike’s son is worried about what will happen when war breaks out in the streets. How will he protect himself and his fiancee? How will they get food?

An AR-15 won’t help. They need to move, but Satan has hooks in their jaws. They make too much money to leave.

Jew-hating gangs terrorize Jews and their allies on trains in one of the most Jew-heavy places on Earth, and you aren’t even being told. This is our world now. As Jew-friendly places go, New York has traditionally been second only to Israel. Look at it now. Look how quickly Satan can mobilize the insane.

Right now, the only answer is to leave blue areas, but it’s a temporary solution. The final solution is to leave this world; to be pulled out by Yeshua so he can pour his chastisement out on the ones who hate him and give them one last chance to repent. A rifle may help you in one or two situations, but rifles can’t fix the world.

You need to be wrapped in God’s presence, not a plate carrier. The word says:

A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; But it shall not come nigh thee. Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold And see the reward of the wicked. Because thou hast made the Lord, which is my refuge, Even the most High, thy habitation; There shall no evil befall thee, Neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling.

When Yeshua was threatened, he didn’t pull out an AK-47 and start blasting. God hid him, and he walked through his enemies unseen.

That’s it, I guess. I suppose I’ll have more to say after the next global celebration of blasphemy.