The Apollo Program Took Less Time

Last year I converted my Kubota L3710 and bucket to quick attach, and that meant I could no longer use my crazy chain-on fork tines. I decided to cut them up and make a quick-attach fork.

Seeing the way the world was going to hell kind of killed my enthusiasm for a lot of things, but I got back to work this week, and now I have a nearly-completed tool. I haven’t finished the paint, and there are a couple of welds I still have to do, but I tried it out today on some fallen trees, and it seems to be okay. In an hour of slow-paced work, I moved a huge amount of stuff.

It gets better leverage than the old tines because it’s closer to the FEL, and these tines can’t move around because the whole fork is rigid.

One thing I didn’t think of: the bucket had a sloped rear surface, so when I used the forks, I was able to rotate them up maybe 20 degrees when the FEL was down. Now the tines are pretty much level when the fork is on the ground and the hydraulic rods are retracted. It doesn’t seem to slow me down, though.

I am thinking of welding some square tube crossmembers between the tines about 10″ from where they join the frame, to take stress off the welds at the rear.

I should be able to lift no more than 1200 pounds with this thing, based on Kubota’s specs and the weight of all the hardware. That’s the kind of load I have to think about when considering adding reinforcement.

I was considering putting goat fencing across the vertical members to keep things from coming back at me. It hasn’t been a problem in the past, but I suppose it could be.

I could have bought a grapple, which is a wide attachment with hydraulic jaws, but I think they’re stupid. They don’t hold much more brush than a person. They hold logs, but so will my fork, and I don’t have to add new hydraulics. Maybe a grapple is more useful on hills, where it’s harder to keep things on a fork. I doubt it. I think the grapple is just a bad invention.

In other news, I got more revelation yesterday and today. Whenever you pray in tongues a lot, revelation will follow within a day.

I saw a video about a Christian Youtuber who fell and injured himself. As background, he talked about how his faith was still tested sometimes. That’s remarkable, because years ago, he went to hell. He smoked some kind of synthetic weed and lost consciousness, and he found himself in hell. Apparently synthetic weed is dangerous.

You would think a person who had seen hell would never lack faith. That isn’t true, though. Believing faith works this way shows a lack of understanding of how the universe works.

Only the Holy Spirit makes us believe the truth. Similarly, our flesh, other people, and evil spirits make us believe lies. If you don’t hear from the Holy Spirit daily and get revelation, you can end up believing anything. This is why a big percentage of Westerners now think a man can be pregnant. It’s facially absurd, but very few people hear from the Holy Spirit, everyone hears from man and Satan, and man and Satan generally win.

It’s possible, and even common, for people to believe things they know are untrue. It sounds insane, but we have all seen it.

We even see it in the Bible. The Hebrews saw God part the Red Sea, and they saw him in a pillar of cloud and a pillar of fire every day. They still lost faith, and idolatry became a huge problem for the Jews. Were they stupid? No. They just didn’t have the Holy Spirit inside them, reminding them of the truth every day.

Yeshua warned us about this danger in the parable of the sower.

After all I’ve experienced, I should have perfect faith by now, but I don’t. Sometimes it’s extremely strong, and sometimes it waivers. It seems like knowledge, which I have, should make my faith unshakeable. But knowledge doesn’t always become faith. Many people have seen miracles yet have not believed.

Yeshua told us about two dead Jews. A rich man and a beggar named Lazarus. The rich man was in hell, burning, and Lazarus was with Abraham, awaiting salvation. The rich man asked Abraham to send Lazarus back to Earth to warn his brothers, and Abraham said, “If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead.”

What he said was true, and it explains why the descendants of Jews who didn’t believe are in the situation they’re in today.

1. They didn’t see Yeshua in the Bible, even though he was there. Isaiah said a virgin would give birth to a son, and he would be God. There are all sorts of verses pointing to Yeshua. His name, “Yeshua,” is all over the Psalms. Isaiah talked about him a lot. Moses was a type of Yeshua.

2. When Lazarus, the brother of Mary and Martha, was resurrected by Yeshua, most Jews didn’t accept Yeshua. Instead, their leaders plotted to kill Lazarus. So a man named Lazarus really did come back from the dead, and most Jews would not be persuaded.

3. When Yeshua was crucified, many people rose from the dead in Jerusalem, but most Jews didn’t see it as a sign that Yeshua was divine.

4. Yeshua himself rose from the dead, and there were many witnesses, but most Jews were not interested. They didn’t know the Holy Spirit.

No matter what the objective truth is, you’re going to believe what spirits tell you, and only the Holy Spirit will tell you the truth. You have to keep hearing from him every day. This is why Paul said, “Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.” He didn’t mean you have to listen to people recite from the Bible. He meant you had to hear God speaking, every day. When you pray in tongues, you hear God speaking through you, and the Bible says tongues build faith.

Unbelief is a delusion, like any other delusion. It’s not rational. Your mind can’t protect you. Only the Holy Spirit can.

It’s amazing to get all this revelation and to see what Bible passages really mean. Preachers get these things wrong all the time. Of course, most of them don’t know the Holy Spirit, so they don’t have a chance.

We now have unbelieving generations of descendants of Christians. The Jews rejected Yeshua, and our young people have rejected both Yeshua and the Holy Spirit. We’re going down the same road the Jews traveled, but this time, there is no fourth manifestation of God to come to Earth and give the world another chance. This time, the game is over.

The Psalms and other Old Testament books show that gentiles would believe in Yeshua and be saved, and this has happened. Now that Christianity is withering, there is nobody else to preach to. When the apostles gave up on the Jews, they went to the gentiles and had tremendous success. The gentiles are now turning away, and once both Jews and gentiles are lost, whom are you supposed to evangelize? Martians?

If you’re not speaking in tongues and hearing from God, you’re not going to make it. You’ll believe lies, and you’ll still think you’re among the elect. You’ll have lots of famous company. Maimonides thought he was special because he was so learned, and he’s burning in hell.

I hope people make good use of the things I share, because there aren’t many people broadcasting this stuff.

The person you really need to listen to is the Holy Spirit, not me, but I can help you get in touch with him.

I no Longer Identify as an Earthling

WARNING: there is a pretty horrible photo farther down the page. I made it a thumbnail to reduce the impact for people who see it unintentionally. Click if you want to see a bigger version.

I don’t have a whole lot of interest in this world these days. I just watched Matt Walsh’s horrifying documentary, What is a Woman?, and it made things worse. Nonetheless, I did a little work on my tractor fork attachment today. I am literally one day away from finishing, although I already have an alteration in mind.

Here is what I have.

That frame is 3/16″ steel, and the little plates holding the tines on are 3/8″, so I think everything is sturdy enough. I used to have these same tines on a bucket made from something like 1/8″ plate, and it worked okay.

I stood on one tine with the fork off the ground, and I jumped up and down. It didn’t seem to notice me. I don’t think I’ll ever lift more than maybe 900 pounds because of the size of the tractor. That’s 225 pounds per fork, and the load won’t be jumping.

I may detach the big plates that hold the attachment on the tractor. When the attachment is on the ground, these plates are vertical, and that means I can’t rotate the tines upward very much. This could be a problem. I’m going to try it out, and if I don’t like it, I’ll have to cut the plates off, put something between them and the frame, and fix it so they’re maybe 20° off vertical.

Today I cut a stupid magnolia tree that was planted in the wrong place. It was starting to get in the way of trucks coming up the driveway. I want UPS to come to my door, but I can’t expect them to keep pushing through branches. Now I have a big assortment of large magnolia brush in the yard, and I really need the fork.

The people who built this house were very bad at landscaping. I have three other magnolias to cut. I also want to kill most of the plants around the pool.

The magnolia I cut today was planted about 4 feet from the driveway, so I’m not sure the original owners thought about the fact that trees grow. They also put a maple tree 10 feet from the house, and there are two bottlebrush trees 18″ from my workshop. I also have a cluster of oaks almost touching the driveway and another magnolia two feet from my expensive brick walkway.

The web says to keep magnolias 50 feet from structures. Nice.

Before the Chinese blight killed my citrus trees, I had three with bases maybe 8 feet apart. That was never going to work. If it were still possible to have grapefruit or tangelo trees in the Eastern US, the proper minimum distance between trunks would be 25 feet, not 8.

Finishing the fork has been an intimidating job because of all the cutting. The original tines had structural stuff made from heavy plate, and I had to make a lot of long, accurate cuts with an angle grinder. It’s a messy job requiring all sorts of protective gear, and it’s easy to screw up. I had to redo the cuts on three of the 4 tines, so that made it worse. Fortunately, the remaining tine is nearly perfect, so attaching it should be quick.

I tend to freeze up on jobs like this. I have to keep reminding myself it doesn’t matter if I screw up. With steel, you can always cut things apart and put them back together however you want. It’s not like wood. Once wood is screwed up, all you can do is add clumsy patches.

Walsh’s documentary comes with a pretty interesting story which you probably know. He’s conservative, and he works for The Daily Wire. The documentary reveals hushed-up facts about the atrocities gender nuts inflict on children.

Twitter agreed to host the documentary, and then right after it appeared, Twitter throttled it. They said this was based on two instances of “misgendering,” which means referring to people by pronouns correct for their sexes. The offending words were uttered by people who were filmed for the documentary, not people on the filmmaking team.

Elon Musk found out and fired a bunch of people. You can now see the documentary on Twitter and Rumble. It’s over a year old, and finally, you can see it without a struggle.

Once again, we see that some of the most seemingly-paranoid things conservatives and Christians say about leftist censorship are completely true. The problem is that we are so used to this towering, continuous outrage, we aren’t screaming about it.

The documentary was pretty horrifying. The pro-mutilation, pro-sterilization, pro-steroid people showed that they were literally insane. They proved there was no way to get facts into their skulls. Walsh was patient and polite with them, and a bunch of them flipped out.

The rapture and the tribulation will come when it becomes impossible to reach people with the truth, so watching these crazies affirm patent delusions served to reinforce my conviction that God is about to remove sane people from the earth and give the rest what amounts to a prolonged therapeutic flogging.

Walsh interviewed a lady who looks like a man from the shoulders up. She was pushed into “transitioning” or whatever it’s called as of this week, and later, she realized she had destroyed herself. Terrible things happened. They gave her a fake penis made from other tissues, and hair grew inside her urinary tract. She ran out of insurance coverage, and the doctors abandoned her. Now she runs an outfit that counsels other people.

I’ll show you a photo. In case you don’t know how fake penises are made, this will enlighten you.

A girl as young as 18, whom liberals don’t believe is old enough to buy a gun, can have this done to her. Flay the arm. Turn the skin into a fake penis that doesn’t really work. Flay the thigh and put the skin on the arm. The survivors look like they’ve been in fires.

Walsh interviewed a Canadian man who was out on bail. His crime was “misgendering.” He called his confused daughter a girl, basically. In Canada, this is considered violence. Thousands of years of jurisprudence settled the question of whether words are violence. They are not. This is one of the things you learn during your first semester of law school. Now leftists are passing statutes overriding common law and common sense.

We live in a world where calling your daughter is violence, but rioting is protected speech, except for Republicans.

The Canadian had a disagreement with his wife. She wanted their minor daughter to be put on drugs that would prevent her from becoming a woman. He objected, and the hospital tried to bring him around. Then they sent him a letter saying they were going to inject her regardless of his input, and they said he had two weeks to respond with legal action. When he responded, he lost, because Canada has a child-protection statute that takes power away from parents who haven’t lost their minds yet.

Now he’s a criminal. But a “doctor” who castrates boys and girls and mutilates girls in order to make fake penises that don’t work is working within the law.

We are done here. There is no stopping the transformation. A lot of older people want to fight, but the young, by and large, are beyond the reach of reason. We will die off, and the scales will swing in their favor. God only knows what crimes we will be found guilty of. This blog entry will probably be a prosecutable offense with no statute of limitations.

If they can get rid of statutes of limitations for rape, which they stupidly did, they can get rid of them for all sorts of thoughtcrimes.

The man in Canada is essentially guilty of thoughtcrime.

It’s trite to say 1984 is here, not because it’s absurd, but because the actions of leftists have provoked so many people to say it. Is it really here? Not exactly. The full-blown disease hasn’t arrived, but the world is incurably infected.

I’d compare it to something like mad cow disease. Six months after you’re infected, you may have light symptoms, but you still have the disease. You’re still going to develop every disabling symptom no matter what you do, and there will be no way to fix it. We don’t have goons hauling dissidents off to be tortured, but younger people have the mindset that results in such things, and as they gain dominance, they will do pretty much what Orwell’s ministries did.

Barring an unforeseeable, unlikely set of events involving things like secession and emigration, it will not be possible for young people to live acceptable lives on this planet. They won’t be able to raise children normally. They won’t be able to say the kinds of things people have to say in order to have sane, livable societies. Their movements and purchases will be severely restricted. They’ll have to pretend to be insane or live with fines, imprisonment, gag orders, employment discrimination, and the confiscation of their children.

There is no way to make life on Earth work any more.

I think about these things and feel like there is no point in fixing the tractor or cleaning up the yard. I don’t feel like doing financial planning or exercising. It makes me feel like I should do nothing but pray, eat, sleep, and bathe. I feel like I’m Noah. What are you supposed to do when you know the world is ending?

I told my wife it’s like the Titanic is sinking, and oblivious passengers are concerned about trivial things. The soup is cold. They need more pillows.

So many Christians and conservatives think they’re going to win somehow. What Bible are they reading? Which Holy Spirit are they listening to? They think they’re on God’s side, but they’re really taking marching orders from Satan. He wants people who seem to belong to God to flail around and make fools of themselves, like Lot’s sons-in-law.

The church is an astounding failure. Colossal. Almost no one is teaching what matters. You need to pray in tongues every day. It’s the only way to get the Holy Spirit’s guidance and be lifted out of deception.

It’s nice that Matthew Walsh took the time to try to help, but he is wasting his life. His work won’t stop anything.

How is it that the church fails to teach the single most important thing Christians need to know, after salvation? Well done, Satan.

It seems like the only verses Christians know are John 3:16 and Matthew 7:1. No one reads 1 Corinthians 14:2 or Jude 1:20.

You know who the worst non-Christian people are? Not perverts or atheists. Motivational speakers. Football coaches. Life coaches. Drill instructors. Anyone who tells you to believe in yourself. Anyone who promotes pride. If it weren’t for pride, perverts would still be running from Christians. The Bible makes it clear that pride causes people to abandon God, and only after that, perversion sets in. See Romans 1.

Perversion can’t set in until insanity spreads. You have to be blind to reason to think two men should sodomize each other and marry.

I didn’t realize how evil motivational speakers were until today.

Most big-time preachers are motivational speakers. They work for Satan. Joel Osteen works for Satan. T.D. Jakes works for Satan. Self-confidence will send you to hell. Jesus had none at all. The Bible condemns self-confidence and pride too many times to list here, but go to a big church, and you can count on the pastor to vomit motivational speaking all over you.

I truly hope Jesus comes for us soon. I am done with this place.

My View From Beneath the Clouds

My wife and I have had victorious dreams for a long time, but last night I had a different one. I had a blue-state nightmare.

For some incomprehensible reason, I was in New York City with a friend of mine. I plan to avoid New York for the rest of my life, even as a tourist. My wife will have to watch videos about it instead of visiting. I lived there for years. It was disgusting then, and now it’s much worse. Visiting in a dream shows that I was not my true self.

I was driving, and we stopped outside a housing project in Harlem. My friend got out to go see another friend who lived there. In real life, he lives in Georgia, and she lives in Florida.

While I waited, I had nothing to do. For some reason, I got on a public bus.

As I sat on the bus, I realized I had my pistol in my pocket. I was very disturbed. Even after corrective Supreme Court decisions, New York City makes it very hard to get a carry permit, and it snubs permit holders from other states. In the dream, I was committing a felony.

Jurisdictions that don’t permit people to carry would, literally, prefer to see the innocent dead than armed.

I wondered if I should get off the bus and throw the gun in a garbage can. I can afford a new gun, but I don’t want to go to Rikers Island for exercising my Second Amendment rights.

The bus took off, and it went down a very dark road. The driver had a British accent. He was a bald white man with a beard and glasses. He was very friendly. I would say he seemed protective. We got farther from the housing project, and I knew I didn’t want to go back on foot.

Here is the rotten truth: a white person walking in Harlem at night is extremely likely to be attacked. It’s just a fact. Like many other black areas, Harlem devours non-blacks who disregard the unwritten law: don’t show up after dark.

The street we were on was very narrow. Two lanes. There were no street lights. There was only a little bit of very dim lighting from buildings beside the road.

Every so often, we encountered two C-shaped concrete barriers about two feet high. The C’s opened toward the gutters. The barriers were about four feet apart, funneling vehicles between them. Somehow, the bus slid between them at speed.

I asked the driver where I could get off safely because I wanted to take a bus back to the housing project. We got to a place where there was a lot of light, and I saw a bus stop. I got out, feeling safer, but he turned the bus around and left, and the light disappeared.

I was in a place of total darkness. I couldn’t see anything at all. The darkness was brown, like sewage. It shimmered like boiling water, but there were no shapes.

I walked quickly toward the housing project. I knew I probably wouldn’t make it. Soon I started hearing voices. Groups of young black males were yelling and talking. One young man joked about another’s hat, so I knew they could see even though I couldn’t. It looked like they had lit some very dim campfires in certain places off the road.

I realized someone was following me. I turned and saw him. When I turned a second time, he was right in front of me. He was a Puerto Rican man of about 45 years. He looked like someone’s dad. I didn’t want to shoot him and draw others. I only had 11 rounds.

He started reaching in my pockets to take things. A young black man appeared beside him, holding a rifle over his shoulder with the muzzle pointed behind him. He was going to rob me, too.

Eventually, I decided it was better to go to prison than die, so I took out my gun, reached into the Puerto Rican man’s jacket, and took back what he stole.

Then I woke up.

It was a terrible experience. I realized how people in blue cities with ghettos live. Take the wrong train, make the wrong turn, and you become prey. Robbery, beatings, murder, rape…it’s all up to the people around you. Because blue politicians will not allow law-abiding people to defend themselves, and because they imprison them for trying, the only way to win is to stay in areas where your kind is permitted. Even then, it’s a gamble.

When I was a kid in college, I got drunk with some friends of mine, and we missed a subway stop and ended up in Harlem, east of Morningside Park. A black lady told us to stay on the train and get out. She told a friend of mine, “You’re life ain’t worth a nickel here.” She was afraid for us. This is normal in certain cities today.

In the dream, I didn’t think at all about God. I didn’t know I was a Christian. I didn’t curse the creatures that attacked me. I didn’t pray. All I had was a pistol.

It reminded me of Bill Wiese’s famous hell visit. While he was there, he had no idea he was a Christian. Demons with incredible strength ripped his flesh and threw him around as though he weighed nothing. No one was on his side. The place where he was was completely dark.

I think God gave me this dream to remind me how blessed I am and how cursed many Americans are. If I’m out and about, and someone tries to hurt me, I can pull out my piece and riddle him with bullets. I can carry an AK-47 with huge magazines in my vehicle, and I have done it. Where I live, there are no areas where anyone has to be afraid because he looks a certain way. If I shoot a criminal here, the police will pat me on the back and leave. If a mob surrounds my car, I can drive through them with immunity from prosecution. It’s the law. I don’t have to wait till they drag me out and beat me.

When spirits attack, I can call down God’s fire on them. I can bind them and muzzle them. I can curse them with defeat. I can pray for God to send spirits to crush them. People who don’t know God, on the other hand, have to lie back and take it, all day, every day.

My wife and I have had a lot of nice dreams. The other day, she dreamed she was flying, and when people asked her what she was doing, she said, “It’s practice for the rapture!” What a different world she and I live in, compared to people who don’t know God. He spares us the problems and the company of Satan’s leftists.

I haven’t done much of anything today. I feel drained because I feel like I was really mugged. As far as I knew at the time, it was actually happening, and I was probably going to die.

I’ve seen videos of blue-state people who could not defend themselves from criminals. I’ve seen them beaten and shot. I’ve seen sociopathic subhumans take their money and belongings. I didn’t truly appreciate their fear and humiliation. Now I understand it better. I also understand what whites and Asians go through in some places.

I believe God gave me the dream to help me understand the other side’s experiences. It may also be that he wanted me to understand the tribulation. During that time, there will be little or no love on Earth, but hatred and sadism will be increased. The whole world will be like America’s worst ghettos, but there will also be war, disease, and starvation.

The Antichrist will set up a protection racket. He’ll solve people’s problems temporarily in exchange for worship and obedience. In this respect, he’ll be a lot like Mohammed, whose sick cult never went anywhere until he permitted his followers to murder, rob, and rape infidels while forbidding them to touch each other.

The dream made me think about conservative nominal Christians who think hard work, pride, prepping, weapons, and politics will save them. I had a pistol, and I was in a position to kill some people in the short term, but criminals were still going to get me, and if I managed to run to the government for help, it was going to imprison me. Nominal Christians with rifles and dried food are not going to enjoy the tribulation. They will be on the bottom.

The trick is to make it in the rapture. There is no other hope. The world will look like a 3D video game. You’re not going to be able to wall off the barbarians, partly because you’ll be one of them. Carnal Christians are closer to Satan than God.

I had nightmares every night when I was a kid. Many times, I saw Satan climbing out of a manhole under my bed and chasing me. I saw a star in the sky turn into a hole through which his eye watched me. I saw relatives I loved being twisted apart as they came to hug me. The dream I had last night was the worst complete nightmare I ever had. I was in a bad spot, and I had no hope whatsoever.

I reacted badly to an antibiotic once, and during that time, whenever I fell asleep, I felt I was instantly in hell, but those dreams lasted a second or less. They woke me up instantly. Last night’s dream was long.

I can’t recall ever having another dream about racial conflict. Most people in my dreams are white.

I am more motivated to stay beside God than ever. I have to be connected with the highest authority from now on.

The Karate Kid has Nothing on Me

I had a couple of great dreams this week. In truth, one appears to have been a vision, not a dream, because I believe I was awake during part of it.

In the dream that may have been a vision, I saw a spirit in my bedroom, and as soon as I saw it, I was furious at it.

This thing had no color. It was clear and colorless, like glass. It was as though it were made of thickened air, so the air bent light and made the demon visible. Think of the Predator movies. It was bony like a skeleton, and it had a big square head with big jaws and a protruding brow ridge. It was very angry, and it had holes for eyes.

It rushed me and jumped onto me in my bed, and of course, I cursed it and commanded it to go and called down fire on it in the name of Jesus. I also beat on it as much as I could, because I was full of rage.

It somehow reduced my ability to speak, but it couldn’t stop me completely, as spirits often do in visions. I said everything I wanted to say, and I was much stronger than it was. It couldn’t do anything while I beat it. I really enjoyed it.

I threw it completely across the room once, and it jumped back on me, so I resumed clobbering it. I was disappointed when it left, because I was not finished.

Last night I dreamed I was in the house where I lived when I was in grade school. My parents were there. We went in the kitchen where the back door was, and the door was open. Things had been pulled out of counters and thrown around.

I went out the door and saw tools belonging to burglars. I said we shouldn’t touch anything because there could be fingerprints. I didn’t know I was dreaming.

A punk kid about 14 years old got on the porch. It appeared he was a burglar. He had a snotty attitude, so I grabbed him, put my left hand on his weak, skinny throat, and bent him backward, trying to snap his neck. He couldn’t do much, but he was able to squirm around and prevent me from breaking his spine. He could not get loose.

I looked out over the hedge and saw a group of punks walking down the street. One was a blonde guy who looked European. He was wearing jeans and no shirt. He was about 9 feet tall. He was thin and flabby with no muscles to speak of.

He was staring at me. He was very angry. He didn’t have the courage to do anything, though.

I went upstairs to get a gun, but I didn’t find any in time to kill him and his friends. I wondered if my guns had been stolen, but nothing was in disarray.

At about the same time I had these dreams, my wife had a dream about defeating some idiot who tried to steal from her purse.

So what do I think about these things?

I believe they have supernatural meaning. I think they show what happens when you are aligned with God. Before you and God become one, spirits push you around, because you have no authority backing you up. If you dream of spirits when you have no authority, they close off your air so you can’t call on God or curse them, and they paralyze you.

You could argue that I had sleep paralysis, which is something atheists use to explain away dreams in which people can’t move or talk. The theory is that if your muscles worked when you were asleep, you’d flop all over the bed and hurt yourself, so they shut down. The problem with this theory is that in my vision, I had a little trouble speaking, but I beat the demon like a little girl. If your muscles are paralyzed, it can’t be limited to your mouth and throat.

Spirits attack every single person on Earth, because they are punks with nothing else to do. They resent losing their special status and/or their bodies.

They’re a lot like the leftist thugs we see attacking people these days. One famous Youtuber calls thug and rioter antics “fatherless behavior” and “unemployed behavior.” Demons have no father and no real jobs, just like many of people in leftist mobs, so they’re completely ghetto. They are losers.

Demons are also bullies, and few things are as satisfying as the screams and tears of bullies. God teaches us how to humiliate bullies.

Bill Wiese claims he was taken to hell briefly, and he says that while he was there, he was tormented by two grotesque demons. They picked up him and tore him to pieces, and he somehow knew they were a thousand times as strong as he was. My experience was the opposite. The demons were weak, and I was strong. It made me think about the concept of favor.

When you have favor, you defeat your enemies no matter how strong and numerous they are. Then you don’t have favor, the tables are turned, and you end up like Bill Wiese in hell. The Bible says David killed his ten thousands. On the other hand, it says people who disobey God flee from their enemies.

People in hell are cut off from God’s favor, so it makes sense that they would be weak and helpless before the most defeated class of beings other than the damned. It also makes sense that people who stay close to God would rip demons apart in visions.

I told God I would be happy to torture demons in whatever ways he desired if he wanted to give me the job. I would never get tired of it. I would shove burning spikes into their eyes and twist them. I would pull their intestines out and wrap them around flaming logs. There is literally no limit to the horrors I would inflict on them. It’s amazing how much I hate them. I completely understand why God created the lake of fire for them. I feel about them the way Bill Wiese’s demons felt about him.

I couldn’t torture the worst person who ever lived, but an evil spirit is another story. Frying, shredding, slicing, electrocution, skinning, whatever.

The world is being centrifuged into two camps: the victorious and the defeated. If you’re not empowered by the Holy Spirit, you’re one of the defeated. I used to be one myself.

I think dreams and visions of victory over spirits are confirmation that things are going well. Our human enemies are insignificant. Without supernatural power behind them, they can do nothing. If you can terrify spirits that help your enemies, you will always be on top.

Meet Disney’s Newest Princess

I had a disturbing moment a couple of days back while thinking about the Bible.

In Genesis 6, God says:

And the Lord said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, for that he also is flesh: yet his days shall be an hundred and twenty years.

Some people claim this means he limited people’s lifespans to 120, but that’s clearly not correct. Abraham and others beat that figure, as did Noah, the most prominent person in Genesis 6.

Others think it meant that God was bringing the flood 120 years later. Perhaps that is true. I have believed it. But what if there is another meaning? What if it applies to our time as well as Noah’s?

God’s Spirit–the Holy Spirit–was not known to many people before Yeshua. The baptism with the Holy Spirit did not exist. People did not pray in tongues. Prophecy was a rare gift; Moses wished it were more common, proving it was not. Miracles were rare.

If the Holy Spirit was not dealing with many people, why would God say his Spirit would not strive with men forever? It looks like the Holy Spirit was not striving much at the time.

Sometimes God puts verses in places where they don’t seem to fit, and we try to make them blend into their context when we should be asking ourselves why he said things that don’t match the surrounding language well.

The Holy Spirit didn’t really have a major influence on the church until the last months of 1903. Yes, the early church had the baptism with the Spirit, but the flame appears to have blown out before the end of the first century A.D. Cessationists like to say miracles died with the apostles. It looks like there were never a lot of people full of the fruit and gifts of the Spirit until the 20th century.

Many people think the modern revival of the baptism with the Holy Spirit started with Azusa Street in Los Angeles, but that isn’t correct. The best candidate for Patient Zero in the charismatic movement was a woman who got the baptism in Arkansas on the first day of the 20th century: January 1, 1901. Before and after this, there were fits and starts elsewhere, but nothing resembling a real revival, with large numbers of baptisms, took place until the winter of 1903.

The Azusa Street revival started in 1906.

Over the last 2000 years, there have been other accounts of Christians speaking in tongues, but it wasn’t like today. There are now something like 600 million of us, and it’s not a flash in the pan that will pass away during the current age.

For the first time in history, we live in a time where billions have been offered the opportunity to be filled with the Spirit of God.

So what I wonder is this: was God saying that once the Spirit got his first real foothold in 1903, a 120-year period would start to tick away, to be followed by the rapture?

Before Yeshua was born in the flesh, people who knew God dealt with Yahweh. While Yeshua was here, people dealt with him. When Yeshua was crucified, the Holy Spirit was unleashed on the world. He made his grand appearance a few weeks later. Since then, we have been obligated to get to know him and become one with him.

There is no fourth person of the trinity, so once man rejects the Holy Spirit decisively, after getting a good chance to get with the program, God has no one left to send. It makes sense that rejection of the Holy Spirit would trigger the rapture.

As his reason for giving man a time limit, God said man “also” was flesh, suggesting that God knew that most humans, being part spirit and part flesh, would end up serving the flesh, not God. If you serve the flesh, you serve demons. If you serve demons, you serve Satan.

The book of Enoch says God destroyed the giants–the abomination bastard children of angels and women–because they were giants in the flesh but not in the spirit. The old books say the bastards God killed went on to become demons. There is a parallel between the giants and the people who reject God. The flesh overpowers the spirit.

Verse 2 Peter 2:7 says God “rescued” Lot, whom God called righteous. It says Lot was “worn out” by the “sensual” behavior of the lawless. “Sensual” means “of the pleasures of the flesh.” Lot’s perverted neighbors lived to please the flesh, so they were spiritual midgets.

These are the literal translations of the Greek words in the verse.

Lot reached a point where he could not stand it, after years of being worn down. Then God removed him and his daughters. Just like the rapture. Does this sound familiar to anyone who is tired of our new world of universal grooming? Does anyone else want a change of atmosphere?

There are some plagues that require a mask over the eyes and ears, not just the nose and mouth.

God has said we don’t know the day or hour when he will return, but he never said we wouldn’t know the year or month, and he made it clear he expected us to know when the rapture was imminent. There is no Biblical reason to say we won’t narrow it down. We’re required to do it.

Am I claiming God will definitely come for us this winter? No. I don’t pretend to know the answer. But I plan to pray about it and study.

Jesus said he would return in times that were like the days of Noah and the days of Lot. The perversion movement fulfills the prophecy about Lot’s time. I’m not sure if our time is sufficiently like Noah’s to bring Yeshua here to get us, but maybe it is. And maybe a second 120-year opportunity to get close to God is one thing that makes this time like Noah’s.

When I consider the possibility of being raptured this winter, all I can think about is how great it would be to be free of this place. No riots. No mobs. No running from men in pink wigs. No socialism. No violence. No disease. No weird religions or atheism.

No reading glasses.

I’m going to look at the story of Lot and see if I can see anything else that looks like what secular people would, ironically, call an Easter egg. Maybe there is something there.

If you want to see another reminder that America is irretrievably defeated, check out this video of a man with a moustache, working at Disney World, wearing a dress, selling dresses to random little girls whose families show up without requesting a transvestite. Imagine the conversations families have had back at the Intercontinental.

Project yourself back to 1970 and try to imagine seeing this guy on The Wonderful World of Disney, maybe in a humorous episode about Rascal the feisty raccoon. “Rascal didn’t know what to make of the nice lady’s moustache, but he was mighty grateful for those biscuits.”

You and your grandparents are sitting on the couch on a Sunday night, sharing some s’mores and cocoa, and up pops the son Milton Berle cut out of his will.

I would say things are going to get worse, but I wonder if that’s still possible.

Or Something

My wife had a funny revelation the other day. We were talking about the male fetishists who have decided they’re women, and we discussed the way they’re pushing women off the stage. My wife said it was “toxic femininity.”

Of course, that’s not really right. It’s toxic effeminacy. Males aren’t actually feminine. They mimic femininity.

Women are finally starting to speak up about the way trannies are mounting a hostile takeover. Too late, but at least it has started. Traditionally, women have been huge supporters of…I can’t think of a word…fruity men, I guess I’ll call them. Men are much, much sharper about fruity men. We can detect them easily, and we have a better understanding of their ability to do harm. We know they rape other males, for example. Women are often totally unable to detect fruitiness in men. They are so clueless, they often date or marry effeminate men everyone else knows are homosexual.

Liza Minnelli married three homosexuals and had no idea.

This is an example of what happens when women don’t listen to men. We were put on Earth to protect them, and they didn’t let us do it because they thought they knew better.

After decades of pushing the alphabet agenda, women are getting payback. Men are getting women’s awards. Men are ending women’s sports by making it impossible for women to win. Men are walking around naked in women’s locker rooms with female minors, with the law behind them. And women are just going to have to take it.

I saw something remarkable this week. Target now has a gay section, and they are selling women’s swimsuits for men. These suits have special flaps or something for men who want to hide their genitals. Sorry if this makes you gag, but they are called “tuck-friendly.” So there is more than one tucker in the news.

Adidas just put out a woman’s swimsuit ad featuring a man, and they had him stand with his side to the camera so his genitals push the suit out and announce their presence.

So where do women fit in now? Are they supposed to be like the chubby girl who goes to a bar with a beautiful friend, waiting for leftovers? Always Miss Congeniality, never Miss America?

This week people are talking about Miller Lite, a quasi-beer made with corn syrup and hop extract. Bud Light committed suicide by putting a famous tranny on its cans, and now people are upset because Miller Lite is shaming men…by shaming Miller. Insert question marks here.

Miller hired a completely talentless comedian named…I can’t remember because she’s so bad…I’m thinking…I gave up. I had to look her up again. Ilana Glazer. Miss Glazer did an ad in which she scolded the beer industry for using models in bikinis. As though commandos had kidnapped attractive girls and waterboarded them into putting on swimsuits.

I’m a Christian. I think lewd ads are a bad idea. But punishing the men you sold billions of cases of bad beer to, for liking ads you created without their input, is somewhat ridiculous.

Miss Glazer goes on to use profanity, with multiple ineffective bleeps, to describe what evil beer execs have foisted on women. She uses the S word over and over, and then she goes on a weird fantasy narrative about fictional women doing things with nonexistent manure in order to make beer.

It’s as crazy as it sounds.

She says women were involved in making beer when it was first discovered. As though this means something. Did someone claim women couldn’t make beer? Is that a sexist canard no one was aware of until now? Have women been battling unsuccessfully for the right to make beer? What man would ever tell anyone not to make beer?

Even Harvey Weinstein and Bill Cosby would have no problem allowing women to make beer. It’s not a real issue.

Now no one wants to buy Miller Lite, so if you go to your local store, you will probably see stacks of it alongside the cobwebbed towers of Anheuser-Busch products.

I’ll bet AB is telling drivers not to pile the cases up too high. Photos of unbought cases have filled the web.

Here’s an interesting fact Miller didn’t think about: women don’t like beer.

Okay, maybe when you were a kid, your mom greeted you every afternoon with her third Miller tall boy in her hand, and I am not claiming there is no woman who drinks beer, but men are over twice as likely to drink it, and, more germanely, to buy it.

Should I use the word “germanely” even though I’m male? Am I appropriating anything? I didn’t type “Germainely.”

Let me adjust my dreadlocks.

So Miller Coors decided to offend the very demographic that buys their awful and totally fungible product, in order to please a demographic that will never buy much of it no matter what they do.

Incidentally, “Miller Coors” is a hilarious name, because for years, people who like good beer have been referring to bad factory beer as “Budmilcoors.” Life parodies parody.

Here’s more weird information about Miller’s kamikaze advertising: the people who made the ad were chosen via affimative action. Miller hired an all-gal team.

Here’s another important generalization: women aren’t funny.

Yes, there are some funny women. Now, find me a woman who is as funny as Dave Chappelle. Find me a female W.C. Fields or Charlie Chaplin or Mike Meyers. If I name 50 really funny male comedians, can you name 50 female comics who are just as good? No way in heaven or Earth.

Ilana Glazer herself is about as funny as anaphylactic shock on a camping trip. She has appeared in a show called The Broad Show or Broadly Speaking or something, and maybe she’s a funny comic actress when reading other people’s material, but her standup show is as entertaining as watching Hannah Gadsby pass kidney stones.

There is a new crop of female comedians, and they are not like the old ones. When we watched the old ones, we laughed because they were funny. When we watch the new affirmative action beneficiaries, we listen in silence while captive audiences laugh because they’re supposed to.

Not laughing at bad female comedians is sexist.

“Are you an obese Indian lesbian? You are a gifted female comedian. Netflix is proud to have you.” “Do you cut yourself and hate your mother? We have a studio audience you can tell about it.”

I never liked Roseanne Barr’s personality much, but she was funny. Joan Rivers was funny. The girl who impersonates the Asian nail lady is funny. Merit used to mean something. Now you just have to have the right chromosomes.

Well, that was stupid. The chromosomes will actually put transvestites ahead of you in line. But you’ll still be privileged compared to normal men.

I mean men who admit they’re men and don’t have sex with men…who don’t admit they’re men. Or who do admit they’re men but..I give up.

By the way, when I say female comedians aren’t that good, I mean actual comedians, not comic actresses. If you can’t write material, you’re not a comedian. You’re a fake, like Lily Tomlin.

To get back to the ad, Miller hired an all-girl team to make an ad proving women are funny, and they made an ad that’s not funny at all. It’s just angry. “Shame on you for letting our company let women with free will exhibit themselves.” “Shame on you for denying women credit for brewing beer, which you didn’t actually do.”

Hasn’t anyone seen Laverne and Shirley?

Miller actually reinforced the notion that women need help.

You know what would have prevented this? They could have hired funny trannies. Men who claim to be women but still have male humor genes. That would have been perfect.

“We proved women are talented and funny by hiring women with male genitals.”

It brings me back to toxic effeminacy. The fairer sex is committing suicide in America.

The problem with women’s sports is more damaging than people are saying. Why do girls play sports? For fun? No. To get scholarships. They don’t keep playing field hockey or whatever after they leave college. A few go on to make $60,000 a year in the WNBA, a lot of which comes from charity dollars from the NBA, but the real purpose of women’s sports is to save families huge tuition bills and get mediocre students into good colleges. Having that taken away is devastating to a girl.

It can be the difference between Stanford Law and Red Lobster.

You know what I want to see? Dylan Mulvaney with a Best Actress Oscar. Maybe that will wake women up for real. At that point, the tranny conquest will be complete, and women will only be used to create new male babies.

Instead of becoming female impersonators, trannies will become female impersonator impersonators. Forget Cher and Dolly Parton. Let’s all be Dylan.

Why is “female impersonator” still a phrase? Seems transphobic to me. Someone hit the cancel button.

I don’t know it can be any clearer that the end of the age is here. We may have years, but I doubt we have decades. Maybe God is waiting for us to do animal sex acts during Super Bowl halftime.

Here’s a revelation I got today. My wife and I were talking, and we were discussing the fact that we don’t belong to our earthly nations. We are just visitors who are citizens of heaven. We are ambassadors, and our bodies are embassies. The Bible says these things.

I asked her what a country does when war breaks out. Answer: it calls its ambassadors home. We didn’t have diplomats in Berlin during World War Two. There is no point in keeping diplomats in a hostile alien area during a war. When you’re at war, diplomacy has failed.

God has been diplomatic for thousands of years. The time for diplomacy is over. It didn’t work. It’s almost time for us to go, and I can’t wait. I want to live in a world without leftists. My home world.

Guess it’s a good thing I started making my own beer this year. Not that I drank Bud Light or Miller Lite to begin with.

Plus Miracle Healing

The new grill arrived yesterday, and I have mixed emotions. I guess my most negative emotion is the one about the grill’s price dropping by $125 the day after it arrived.

I got a Napoleon Prestige 500, which is SUPPOSEDLY made in Canada. These days, “made in” doesn’t mean what it used to. If a company buys all the parts for a grill from China and puts them together here, they will usually have the gall to claim it’s American-made. But perhaps this really is a Canadian grill, and Canada is almost like America, except for the fact that there are only about 40,000 people in Canada, and they have no civil rights.

The grill comes in pieces, and you have to finish it, so maybe it’s actually made in America. Here is what I had last night.

It should take around an hour to put one of these together, but it was more like 4 hours for me, and I haven’t put the side shelves on yet.

It took forever because the assembly manual is sort of Asian-style. In order to get around translating, they created a manual which is entirely made up of cartoons, and in order to get around creating manuals for every product, they included several different products in this one. Like it wouldn’t have been confusing enough already.

The parts in the cartoons are tiny, and some look alike, so it’s not fun to figure everything out.

The company has assembly videos on Youtube, and they’re worse than the manual. They’re very odd. Each video features two silent people moving like they’re performing some kind of ceremony. There are no closeups, and they skip the hard parts.

There are better videos from other Youtubers, so I looked at them, too.

As you can see, the knobs light up. This is a useless feature, and it requires additional internal wiring The wire powering the far-right knob was too short, so it was either disconnected from the factory, or I accidentally disconnected it by moving the gas hose and wires around during assembly. I had to put the connectors back together. This was zero fun.

The actual grill, meaning the top part, is pretty heavy. A little more than a big car battery, I would guess, but it’s harder to lift, because the lid flops around, the weight isn’t balanced, and the part is large, preventing a person from getting any kind of leverage. You have to assemble the base and lift the grill onto it.

I should have used my Harbor Freight lift cart to get me in the ballpark, but of course, I did not. I wrestled the grill up there, tried to turn it on, and then found out about the wiring problem. I had to lift the grill again, position it so I could get at the underside, remove the propane hose, and use hose grip pliers to insert the male connector into the female connector. A very unpleasant and time-consuming process. They should have made the wiring an inch longer so it wouldn’t pull out. I’m assuming they connnected it to begin with.

How do I like the grill? I have mixed emotions.

I used to have a DCS grill, and DCS is one of the top manufacturers. Just about every part was heavy, quality stainless. It sat outside for years and always looked about like it did when it was a month old. No corrosion or problems apart from a gas leak which was probably a defect.

The Napoleon is advertised as stainless, but it isn’t. Parts of it are stainless, like the racks, the door panels, most of the lid, and so on. The rest is carbon steel with some kind of coating. Sooner or later, it will rust. If it gets scratched, I’ll have to use paint to fix it.

I guess I’ll have to get the $100+ bag (“cover”) to protect the grill.

Another disappointment: the casters are plastic. Weber grills have real metal casters. I thought I would replace the Napoleon casters with screw-in Amazon metal casters, but they sit in proprietary plastic inserts, so forget that. I can’t do it without fabrication.

So far, it looks like most of the grill is Home Depot quality, with a few important upgrades where it counts the most.

Today I plan to test the grill with a New York strip. My third-favorite cut. They’re on sale. Ordinarily, I fry steaks, but I also like restaurant steaks cooked under a salamander, which is a flat, super-hot heating element that chars steaks nicely. My grill has a special infrared side burner which is supposed to be similar. I’ll see if it works for steak, and then I’ll fix a burger.

I am pretty confident it will work for burgers. Steaks are somewhat different. It should also work for my wok.

This grill has curved grate wires to prevent stuff from falling through, so I’ll grill some onion slices to see what happens. It would be neat if they stayed in place.

Do I recommend this thing? Not yet. I haven’t tried it. I will say this: if I were willing to spend several grand, I’d go with DCS or another high-end brand. A heavy stainless grill can legitimately be called a potential heirloom. It’s possible to make a grill that lasts many decades, but you have to shell out for it.

The Napoleon’s lifetime warranty is what made me feel safe ordering this grill. Even if the cheaper parts don’t hold up, I should be able to get new ones for nothing.

I guess that’s all I have to say about the grill.

I strained my back lifting it, and I felt some pain last night. Today while my wife and I were talking, I put oil on it, and we prayed and commanded and so on. The pain level dropped a great deal while we were doing this. I stood up immediately afterward to demonstrate faith by moving around, and there was very little pain. I wanted to write about this today, because testimony is important. Satan and people who are deceived love to say God doesn’t heal, so we have to counter the gaslighting.

I don’t think much of medical professionals. When you have no other choice, you have to use them, but to me, they’re witch doctors. God is the real doctor. He heals quickly, without pain, expense, side effects, embarrassment, grotesque privacy invasion, political interrogation, or inconvenience. I only go to doctors as a last resort.

We glorify medicine and think of doctors as gods, but human beings had the same mindset a hundred years ago, when there was no chemotherapy, no MRI’s, and no antibiotics. Doctors couldn’t do much back then, they believed all sorts of things that weren’t true, and people died from things that can be cured in 10 minutes now. If the world lasts a hundred more years, people will think, rightly, that today’s doctors were primitive.

They are primitive. Everything we do with our limited intelligence is primitive.

It’s all a matter of perspective. Everyone in every age has thought of contemporary doctors as modern and advanced, because they were, even when they were saying malaria was caused by bad air. Even when they were treating syphilis by using syringes to shoot mercury up men’s private parts.

Think of all the things that can’t be cured by medicine. Many cancers. Autism. Missing parts. Retardation. Homosexuality and most other mental illnesses. Coronavirus. Rabies. The flu. MS. Huntington’s. Parkinson’s. Addiction. The list is gigantic. God can fix anything, and he heals many people every day.

You’d have to be stupid to go to a doctor before God.

Time to warm up the steak. Wish me success.

MORE

I fixed myself a steak, and I grilled onion slices, pieces of red bell pepper, and an unripe tomato. I used the grill’s infrared burner to brown the steak, and then it got a very brief ride on the main burners.

Everything went well.

The infrared burner browned the meat nicely. The vegetables didn’t fall into the grill, so the weird wavy grates do what they’re supposed to do.

Unfortunately, this experience reminded me that grilled steak is horrible compared to fried steak. I had to resort to using steak sauce to give the meat flavor. I wonder if adding butter after grilling would help, but I don’t think there is any way I could make grilled compare with fried.

This grill should be a beast for burgers. It should give them a nice dark crust, and maybe I could throw bits of wood on the burner for flavor. A burger always relies on condiments, so it’s not like a steak, which has to stand on its own.

Who’s up for Bacon-Wrapped Bacon?

I just wrote a blog post, but I think I’ll write another one. I just ordered a grill.

When I moved here, I got myself a little Pit Boss stainless portable gas grill. I paid around $100. It was great for what it was, but it didn’t burn hot enough. I replaced the pathetic gas regulator with one for a big turkey fryer, and now I get huge flames hot enough to produce acceptable burgers. It’s probably dangerous, but a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.

The grill is cheap, though, and it’s not a permanent solution. The heat shield things under the grate are about gone, and I had to warranty the grate once. My wife is coming, and we need some real stuff.

I used to have a DCS grill. DCS makes “pro” grills, whatever that means. I think it’s BS. You never see a regular barbecue grill in a restaurant. I haven’t, anyway. DCS grills look a lot like the ones at Home Depot, and my guess is that they’re aimed at consumers. They’re made to last a long time. That’s the big difference I can see.

The DCS I had cost about $1000, and it was around 30″ wide and 18″ deep. It did okay with burgers. It eventually developed a gas leak. So much for “pro” quality.

When I decided to upgrade from the Pit Boss, I looked at DCS, figuring their stuff had to be better than grills from hardware stores. I was amazed by the prices. A nice full-size DCS will run about 10 thousand dollars. That’s moronic.

Because I hated my greenie washing machine that made my clothes stink, I bought a commercial Maytag water hog with a heavy stainless tub. I paid under $1000. You can’t tell me a grill is worth 10 commercial washers. The washer has a cabinet, a tub, a transmission, a motor, electronics, and valves. A grill has a cabinet, a grate, valves, and a burner. Much simpler to manufacture, and surely much cheaper.

I wanted a good grill, but there was no way I was spending anything remotely like 10 thousand dollars.

I researched, and I learned a few things.

Evidently, consumer grills have gotten much better over the last decade. They don’t rust out in two summers like they used to. They get good support from their manufacturers. They also heat much better than the old ones.

People recommended Weber, which surprised me. I’ve had cheesy Weber products. I learned they make some nice stuff now. I can get a big stainless grill with porcelain-coated cast iron grates for $1330. It comes with a “sear zone,” which means there’s an extra burner to turn on to get proper meat browning. It also has a side burner, which is probably not that useful, but it can’t hurt.

I was going to get one of these things, but then I learned about Napoleon grills.

Napoleon is a Canadian company, so almost American. They make grills in Canada, not just China. For $1500, I can get a grill like the Weber I wanted, but it will have stainless grates, a rotisserie and added rotisserie burner, and a side burner that has an infrared element.

The infrared element is like a restaurant salamander. It’s a big rectangle of something or other that gets red hot. You can put a burger or steak over it, and it will brown it more or less correctly. Much better than the Weber’s sear zone. You can also heat pots on it.

I might be able to use a wok on the infrared burner. Right now, I have to use a turkey fryer.

On top of all this, Napoleon offers a lifetime warranty, with some caveats. That blows Weber off the planet.

I don’t like grilled steaks because I can’t get a grill hot enough to do it right. I fry steaks in butter on cast iron. Maybe the Napoleon will make me love the grill again. At the very least, it should do burgers correctly. I’m tired of hacking in order to get what a grill should do right out of the store.

I see know-nothings on the web bragging about their steaks with pretty grill marks. You don’t want grill marks. You want a steak that’s brown all over. Steaks with grill marks have no flavor except in the marks. It’s astounding that people can’t figure this out.

A fried steak, properly done, has a heavy brown crust that covers its surface. That’s why I fry. I suppose it’s why the French fry steak.

Good steakhouses don’t serve steaks with grill marks. They brown them all over, one way or another.

It’s a shame to pay for good meat at post-Biden prices and then ruin it. And steak is really easy to prepare, so no one has a good excuse.

I am eager to see what the new grill will do. I may even let my wife touch it.

There is no Fool Like an Old Fool

My friend Mike moved to Florida last year to get away from the Northeast. Then he made the mistake of going back north for his granddaughter’s birthday. He got a blister on his foot, and due to blood sugar problems, it got infected. He has been trapped up there ever since.

He keeps going for treatment, and they always tell him the same thing: a few more weeks.

I don’t know too much about diabetics and near-diabetics and their foot issues, but apparently, they have to be extremely careful about any broken skin on their feet and lower legs. Circulation problems cause them to rot pretty quickly, and this, I am told, is why there are so many diabetics with no toes and/or feet. One day, things are fine, and a month later, you have a stump.

When he was here, we didn’t make the best use of our time. We didn’t pray together much at all. Now that he is stuck among people who hate just about everything about Christianity, things are different. We pray on the phone several times a week. I should have pushed him to do pray with me when he was here, but I didn’t think he would have a sudden toe crisis.

If you plan to get old, you should know something I learned recently. Doctors don’t care at all about your toes, which are more likely to rot off in old age than youth. Doctors have the same attitude they have toward spleens, tonsils, appendices, and gallbladders. If there’s a problem, cut it off. Treating it in order to save it is an inconvenience.

At least one doctor encouraged Mike to let him cut his toe off. Right away. Because keeping it might require weeks of treatment. Yes, that was the horrible down side. Inconvenience. Makes me wonder if insurance companies are behind the amputation movement. Maybe doctors have to answer questions when they don’t cut things off.

Losing a big toe is not insignificant. Your big toes are much stronger than your other toes, and you use them when you walk. They do important things I’m too lazy to look up. Lose one big toe, and you can forget about running for the rest of your life. I suppose once you pass 50, doctors assume you’re almost dead, so it doesn’t really matter if you can run.

The older you get, the less value your life has. This is true legally as well as medically. If you sue someone for wrongful death, the jury will have to consider the victim’s age when they add up the damages. You get more money for a kid than a nonagenarian.

For months, the hole in Mike’s toe has been stagnating. They gave him the wrong antibiotic. Then, after a lot of damage had been done, they gave him the right one. After that, they had to keep cutting stuff away. The infection seemed to disappear, but the hole would not close. Mike said it was like Michael Jackson’s nose. If doctors work on something long enough, it stops trying to heal.

We’ve been praying for his toe, and he has been anointing it with oil and going to God to forgive people. You’re supposed to forgive if you want healing.

For a while, very little happened. They kept telling him his toe was 10% better. So 10% this week, 10% of the remaining problem next week, 10% of what was left after that the following week, and so on. Mike said it was like a radioactive material with a half-life. The problem kept getting smaller but didn’t go away.

They planned to give his toe an MRI this week. Imagine, a toe MRI. They thought he might have a bone spur. I’m not sure how a toe can require an MRI, but I do know an MRI always makes someone a lot of money.

We got more serious, and then this week, Mike told me the wound had dried up. Then he said his doctors were shocked. Instead of the customary 10% decrease in whatever it was they measured, it was 50%. They called off the MRI.

They didn’t really expect a good outcome. By treating the wound instead of cutting his toe off, they were humoring Mike. I think they fully expected to cut it off when he gave up.

He says he feels burning and tingling in the area of the wound. That’s interesting, because those are the things people who receive divine healing most commonly mention, if they feel anything at all.

Maybe he’ll escape the Northeast again soon.

It’s very important to pray when you have a physical problem. It’s important to use oil and confess. It’s important to cast out demons, tell the problem to get out, and command the flesh to heal. It works. Go to Youtube and look up T.B. Joshua or Windsor on Fire if you doubt it. Look up an Inside Edition segment on John Mellor.

Now you’ve heard what happened to Mike, so God has the glory.

The Northeast is doing poorly. Boston just hosted Satancon. Yes, there is a convention devoted to Satan, the worst idiot ever created. I’ll post a video.

It’s amazing to watch Satan’s stooges acting up in the video. They’re so proud of themselves. Their entire lives are continuous smirks. They tear up Bibles. They say they’re smashing patriarchy, which is actually one of the foundation stones of a successful existence. They created a cartoon video featuring a friendly goat named Satan, and they talk about what a swell guy he is. He wants you to be yourself, have fun, learn, and above all, be released from the bonds of Christianity.

Yes, Christianity. That awful religion that emphasizes love, self-sacrifice, kindness, generosity, honesty, and patience. Who wouldn’t want to be freed from that?

I wonder if the Satan thing is driven by Catholics. The people who hate Christianity the most, after jihadis, are ex-Catholics. There is something about the semi-pagan cult of Catholicism that makes former members extremely disgruntled.

The cartoon video is for kids. It’s purpose is to promote Satanism clubs in schools.

The older I get, the more I realize I got to know Satan by knowing my sister. They have the same personality. Completely contemptuous of the truth. Narcissistic. Cruel. Insolent. Without mercy. Controlling. Satan’s children are like Satan. The people in the Youtube video remind me of what I learned.

I see why God will put liars in the lake of fire, as he has promised. They’re unbearable. They make people who tell the truth do a tremendous amount of work to disprove their lies. They turn people who believe them into slaves. They prevent people from learning the truth and finding freedom and blessings.

One of the lies the Satanists in the Youtube video promote is the one that says they don’t believe in Satan. Of course they do. They just pretend they don’t so they can avoid the pitfalls and obstacles of promoting a new religion. They can attract gullible atheists. They can go into schools without triggering lawsuits.

If they didn’t believe in Satan, they would call themselves freethinkers or something. They wouldn’t jam Satan in people’s faces. They’d be more like James Randi’s bunch.

Randi. There’s a guy who made a living destroying himself.

Back in Kentucky, where I was born, they have an expression they use to describe a liar. They say she will sooner climb a tree to tell a lie than stand on the ground and tell the truth. This is how my dad described my sister when he was frustrated.

Liars are infuriating, because it’s impossible to get them to confess. Prove they’re wrong, and they won’t admit it. They tell new lies in response to the truth, or they accuse you of things in order to deflect. Eventually, you want to give their heads the Gallagher Sledge-o-Matic treatment, just to end the misery they cause. Liars are like biting flies that never stop.

I think this is why Joe Biden annoys me so much. He lies constantly, and almost no one checks up on him, because the MSM is dishonest. Trump lies a lot too, but he lies about unimportant things like his golf scores and how many people show up at his rallies. Biden lies about serious matters that affect all of us. He and his crew tried to steal the election by lying about his son’s laptop and his daughter’s diary. Whether the effects of these lies were big enough to put him over the top, I don’t know, but Biden and his team are disgraceful, contemptuous liars who took advantage of a rigged system and an ignorant public.

“As snow in summer, and as rain in harvest, so honour is not seemly for a fool.” There’s a verse for our current White House occupants.

Leftists love to complain about Trump’s lies, but in reality, the true things he says are what make them most unhinged.

The Satancon video reminded me why God is bringing the tribulation. Most people need it, because they hate the truth and anyone who tells it. Indescribable suffering is the only thing that will wake them up and come clean, and most of them won’t even respond to that.

Name a leftist cause, and the Satanists are for it. Environmental extremism, socialism, perversion…across the board, they side with the left. Because Satan is the father of all leftists. This is why I use the word “leftist” to describe nearly anyone who is against God.

I doubt there are any prominent Satanists who are conservative, and we all know witches only gather to curse conservatives and Christians, never wacked-out leftists. Somehow, stupid people are still inclined to give Satanists a chance, and they don’t see Satanism as a leftist religion.

The philosopher George Santayana is famous for saying, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,” as though this were a brilliant observation and something that was not already obvious. Leftists can’t learn from the past. The things they promote have caused terrible destruction in the past, but they keep pushing them as though they were clever new ideas.

It’s funny they call themselves progressive, because they keep returning to catastrophically-wrong notions that were disproved centuries ago.

I always say they’re like people who step in the same pile of manure over and over. That’s actually Biblical, now that I think about it. Proverbs 26 covers it:

As a dog returneth to his vomit, so a fool returneth to his folly.

Seest thou a man wise in his own conceit? there is more hope of a fool than of him.

In 2 Peter 2, Peter referred to the verse about dogs:

The dog is turned to his own vomit again; and the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire.

I had a weird dream night before last. I was in a field, like my pasture. The air was warm, but it was dry. The sky was overcast. Thousands of feet up, I saw a tangled mass of angry-looking clouds.

The wind was blowing, but it was a strangely uniform wind. Ordinarily, wind is turbulent, and it shifts around. It varies from place to place. The wind in the dream all moved in the same direction. It was as though the atmosphere were a shell around the earth, and it was all moving one way at once.

It looked like rain, but the rain didn’t fall. I was fine, but the sky and the wind had a very ominous feeling to them. The wind seemed to be blowing to another place, where bad things would happen. It was as though the clouds would come down in that place, and the storm would do great damage.

I went to the grocery yesterday, and when I went outside to start the drive, the sky was overcast. The air was warm, but it was very dry. I looked up and saw grey clouds much like the ones in the dream. It felt eery. Again, ominous.

The sky I saw was unlike the sky in the dream in one way. On one side, the clouds were broken, and I saw shafts of bright sunlight pouring through from above. The clouds around the openings the sun came through had silver borders.

It made the whole spectacle seem even stranger.

When I look up and see the sun pouring through big openings in overcast skies, I always feel as though God’s throne room is behind the clouds, and he is gathered there with his angels, looking down from a place of unearthly righteousness. That’s how I felt yesterday.

As I drove home, I thought I saw a rainbow to the left of my car, but when I looked carefully, I couldn’t find it. I thought, “The last thing I want to see is a rainbow.” Rainbows make me think of the end.

The rainbow is a reminder of God’s promise that he won’t use water to destroy the world a second time. Next time, it will be fire, according to the Bible. When perverts use the rainbow as their symbol, it’s just Satan using them to taunt God. “You can’t drown us again.”

Maybe the perversion flag is Satan’s way of saying that since he can’t use water, God will have to burn people he loves if he wants to end Satan’s rule here.

Maybe leftists are like hostages with Stockholm Syndrome. Maybe Satan is saying, “If you want to take me out, you have to go through them.”

Things keep getting worse. There is no reason to think it will ever end. I’m glad I’m not near a blue city, and I’m thrilled to know my wife and I have hope of leaving in the rapture before the real misery starts.

Symmetry

I feel like testifying about a great experience I had this morning.

I like to spend a couple of hours praying when I wake, so that’s what I was doing. I was thinking about how insane the world had become, and I started telling God something I tell him a lot: “I hate this place. I hate this place. You were right.”

I guess that sounds like depression, or that I’m complaining about my miserable life, but that’s not what it is. My life is very easy. I have a wonderful, attractive wife. My health is fine. I love the area where I live. I never get depressed. I don’t struggle to get out of bed in the morning. I’m ready to go as soon as my eyes open. I’m enjoying myself more and more, every month.

Here’s what I like to say: I’m depressed by proxy. I am depressed on the world’s behalf.

Leftists are unhappy people. Surveys show this. They are much less happy than conservative Christians, even though many of us think the world is ending. Leftists enjoy drama and misery. It gives their lives purpose. They don’t think anything good is in their future. They expect to live pointless lives on a planet that’s going to sink under rising oceans, and then they expect to die in terror and vanish.

These are generalizations, but so are sentences like, “Cats don’t like to be bathed,” and, “Bud Light drinkers don’t want to be identified with sexual perversion.” Nothing wrong with generalizing. You do it every minute of your life without realizing it. If you couldn’t, you would be mentally ill and unable to function.

“Is that a red traffic light? Am I supposed to stop? I don’t want to assume anything. It’s shaped like a traffic lights I’ve seen before, but maybe it’s art, and the city paid some artist to put it up as a statement.” No one thinks like that. All day, every day, you assume things are what they seem to be, and you react to them based on prejudice which is, itself, based on past experience with similar things.

Anyway, leftists are unhappy, and they reward each other for willful unhappiness. March and riot, call yourself a victim, and you get what you want, even if it’s several million dollars from the state of California, just for being black. Even if it’s the right to steal from Walmart and then whine when Walmart abandons your city.

To me, every human being who isn’t a Spirit-led Christian is a leftist. “Leftism” is just rebellion against ordained authority. Anyone who belongs to an incorrect religion is a leftist, because God only authorized one way. Anyone who thinks government is the proper authority to appeal to to get most of his problems fixed is a leftist, because we are supposed to take everything to God first, in the name of Yeshua, not Allah or whatever. Not just Yahweh.

I see the world as leftist, because it is. Almost no one knows or obeys Yeshua, and that goes for Christians as well as everyone else. To me, this is a leftist planet.

America is a leftist nation, and it always has been. George III was anointed by God, and we chose a republic, which is a degenerate type of government which moves us closer to anarchy. The Bible doesn’t endorse democracy or republics. It endorses men of God and kings, period. Yeshua is the king of kings, not the president of presidents.

Our silly ideas about mob rule came to us through Greece and Rome. Nations that hated Yeshua and worshiped evil spirits. It’s weird how so many Americans think democracy is a gift from God. Far from it. It’s a curse, and we are now seeing what happens when a nation chooses a curse. Eventually, things go sour.

Our leftist world is washed up, and when I say I’m depressed by proxy, I mean I feel there is no hope at all for the world. Things will continue to get worse. Violence, disease, and lack will rise to unprecedented levels, and billions will die.

There’s an interesting scene in the movie The Book of Eli. Eli, a prophet, finds himself and a friend in a house full of weapons. It belongs to a prepper couple who eat travelers. Eli’s enemies surround the house, and it becomes obvious a shootout is imminent. He tells his friend God has assured him he and the friend will get out. A prepper says, “What about us?” Eli responds, “Didn’t say anything about you.”

My future is bright. My wife’s future is bright. God has told us. If you’re not his, he didn’t say anything about you. Well…nothing good.

So I was telling God how much I hate this place, and I was unhappy about what was happening to the world, and suddenly the Holy Spirit poured into me. When he did that, I didn’t want to think about the world’s mess any more. I let it go and thought about what I was receiving. What a privilege, to feel his peace and let the world go.

Once it started, I began thanking God over and over and asking him to help me maintain it.

Eventually, I thought about the state of the world again. I told God I had been pursuing him for so long, and it was only recently that I started feeling great pleasure, consistently, in his presence. I asked him what hope there was for everyone else, and by “everyone else,” I meant the 99-plus per cent of humanity that had no interest in him.

To find out how good God is, you have to go after him, and not many people are doing that. Leftists are now openly against him in America, just as they are in England and many other countries. “Conservative” has become a code word for “Christian” in the US. People who call themselves progressive are literally fighting to end the worship of Yeshua here.

It’s hard enough to get a self-proclaimed Christian to get to know the Holy Spirit. What chance is there for a nation of people who support castrating boys and putting them in dresses?

It reminds me of the true story of Lazarus the beggar. In the underworld, there were two places for the dead. There was a nice place for those who would be taken to heaven, and a place of torture for the rest. The majority. There were Jews in both places, so Judaism was no guarantee of anything. And what was between them? A great gulf, fixed in place, with no way to cross it. That’s America now. There are millions of people here who can’t cross to this side no matter what happens. If Jesus appeared to them in person and turned swimming pools into wine, they would still reject him.

There is symmetry in the supernatural. This is a time of great cursing for people who reject Yeshua, so it’s also a time of great blessing for those who know him. These are days of pain, fear, defeat, and failure for those who don’t belong to him, but they are days of victory, improvement, safety, and peace for his children.

Yesterday, I had things I needed to do. The pool is green. I need to mow the yard. At 5:30 p.m., I felt supernatural peace and sleepiness, and I had to go lie in bed and be with God. The other things didn’t matter. I had to do it.

We’re in a centrifuge. A gaseous diffusion plant. People are being separated according to their type. The other day, God told me this was a time of sifting. You can either be part of the baby, or you can have your pride and be afterbirth.

The only purpose the damned serve is to support the saved. They think what they do has lasting meaning. They build infrastructure and governments. They build and repair things. They provide services. They fight in wars. None of that stuff has any permanence. They are here to provide a workable environment for God’s children. It’s not our job to do the menial things. Hard work is not for us. We’re here to be improved and to be used to save others. We are supposed to be like Mary, not Martha.

The unsaved will fall away like afterbirth, which supports a baby until it enters a new world. Then they’ll be discarded and go to hell, the world’s garbage dump. They’ll burn like chaff after grain is harvested.

They’ll be forgotten, along with their names. Nobody names afterbirth.

After the tribulation, a lot of names will be gone. The Vietnam memorial will be gone, with all its names. The holocaust records. The list of Academy Award winners. The list of Nobel winners. All that stuff is carnal. It belongs to an age which is about to be ended and largely erased.

People donate fortunes to schools and hospitals so their names will be carved on them. They think it gives them immortality. It’s all going to be destroyed. God will be like a kid grinding his heel into a bunch of anthills. If ants could think, they would think anthill destruction was a very big deal.

Shakespeare, destroyed. Michelangelo. The works of Maimonides, who is burning in hell for blasphemy. The Koran. Chopin. Every presidential library and monument. The Louvre. The pyramids. Medical science. Most music. Poof. Everything that doesn’t advance the kingdom will be washed away like a smelly stain.

The end is really here. It’s not a paranoid fantasy. We are at a point where our activities are no longer sustainable. Not in some imaginary, distant future, where the oceans are a foot higher. Now. We are watching it happen. A reprieve is not possible, so all we can pray for is that things unfold very quickly, to prevent unnecessary suffering. Another 20 years would be unbearable.

For a long time, I’ve been saying, “If you think things are bad now, wait till you see them 6 months from now,” and I’ve always been right. Life is tolerable for most people today, but it was better 6 months ago, and it will be much worse 6 months in the future. It makes no sense to say things are fine because you can stand the current situation. You’re not going to have the current situation next year. You’ll miss 2023.

If you ride a motorcycle, and you do the intelligent thing and take a class, you will hear about decreasing-radius turns. A constant-radius turn is a circle. A turn with a decreasing radius gets tighter and tighter. Many highway exits have decreasing-radius turns. Motorcycles don’t handle them well because they brake poorly.

If you’re on a bike, and you enter a decreasing-radius turn at the wrong speed, you may think you’re fine on the way in, but as the radius shrinks, the centrifugal force will shoot up, and you may go down and end up in an ambulance. You can’t judge the turn by the beginning; you have to look ahead.

We’re in a decreasing-radius turn. We can stand what’s happening now, but it won’t be long before we can no longer take it.

I will try to fix either the yard or the pool today, but mainly, I want to be close to God so I won’t be wandering around when the ship leaves the dock. Unless you’re a rare individual, you don’t understand how good he is.

Now You Know Your Purpose

I just saw the news about California “reparations.” I’m thrilled. The boil came to a head, leftist politicians popped it, and now the hot pus is flowing over every citizen who voted for them.

According to Fox, payments can add up to a few thousand to over a million dollars for one “victim.” I wish it were more. I guess it will be, though, because as far as I can see, this is only the state version of “reparations.” I believe the local versions are yet to be announced. San Francisco is talking about payments that could add up to tens of millions for some individuals.

Do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it.

We need to see the appendix burst and the patient roll into the OR, only to find out the surgeon is on the side of the sepsis.

I like using quotation marks for “reparations,” because it’s a misnomer. Reparations are for actual victims, and they are paid by actual offenders. There are zero American former slaves alive today. There are zero American former slave owners alive today. I guess I’ll quit using quotation marks now, though, because typing them is a pain. Just pretend they’re still there.

Reparations have already been paid, over and over. Money and opportunities have been piled onto American blacks for many decades. People who had nothing to do with slavery were deprived in order to provide all this assistance. It’s time to let it go. But that won’t happen. Reparations will keep increasing. The apocalypse is here, and delusion that only escalates is one of the symptoms.

I want to see this world fixed. I’m tired of the mass psychosis. I’m tired of living in a broken world.

This place is a mess. Think about it. Think about all the passwords you know. Think about the locks you have to lock. Think about your antivirus software and the stupid puzzles you have to solve to get into websites. In a sane world, would criminals be out to get you every hour of every day?

Think about the suffering around you. If you’re used to the murders and rapes and so on that take place among humans, think of the animals. Think of the horrible suffering they endure due to predation and pointless intraspecies fights. None of this is normal.

I’m tired of it. I’m tired of solving Internet puzzles. I’m tired of being told I have to make up new passwords. I’m tired of knowing leftist lunatics are planning for a time when they can come to places like my county and do things that would shame the Japanese who invaded Nanking.

I’m tired of the hatred and childishness in the news. I’m sick of politics. I hate democracy. I want King Yeshua.

Is hating democracy and rooting for a thousand-year monarchy treason? No. There’s kind of a loophole. You can’t get in trouble for supporting a foreign monarch who lives in heaven. Only earthly enemies.

None of the world’s big problems will be fixed until this age ends, so bring it on. Let’s rip the Band-Aid off the festering scab. Reparations! Pronouns! Sodomy in the streets! Mass firings! Confiscation of property! Socialism! Censorship! War! Racism! Let’s do it.

Maybe the reparations storm will serve to wake a few leftists up and bring them into the family of God before the rapture. Maybe it will wake up other people who have been asleep.

The suffering of the apocalypse is going to happen anyway, and things are never going to get better than they are right now, so the quicker the end comes, the better off the world will be.

Am I the only one who is sick of this place? Am I the only one who has a great life yet wishes to spend the rest of it in a better world?

Most days, I talk to my buddy Mike, who has come around as the Holy Spirit has done his work. Mike always says the same thing: “It’s over.” The Air Force is using trannies to recruit airmen. “It’s over.” Bud Light used a tranny to attract customers. “It’s over.” Satanists are opening clubs in elementary schools. “It’s over.”

I saw a great video a couple of days back. It showed San Franciscans venting to the Board of Supervisors. This is the Board that wants to give millions to random black people. One lady said she was going to spend her microphone time screaming, and she did.

Instead of putting her in a padded room, the supervisors sat and took their punishment. A homelessexual with green hair appeared, and he yelled out his demands. He DEMANDED good housing and medical care, like someone owed it to him. He was furious. They took him completely seriously.

It reminded me of something I witnessed.

My sister is a drug addict, and she is beyond redemption. She is the incarnation of entitlement. She was mad at my elderly dad about something or other that was completely her fault.

I don’t know what she was mad about. He had paid for her rehab more than once, without telling me, even though she had money of her own and some sort of law practice. And equity in a house for which he paid most of the cost. I think she was upset about something related to more money, but I couldn’t tell you for sure. It was years ago. I haven’t had any communication with her in 8 years, I think.

She stomped into his house and slammed the door, and she barked, “I’m going to give you ONE more chance!!” I heard her footsteps as she marched across the hardwood.

She didn’t know I was there, a few feet away, in another room, with the door open.

After her warning cry, I heard her telling him not to touch her and generally venting her shock and anger. I heard their feet moving across the floor. Then I heard the front door slam again. She was outside. He had taken her by the arm and deposited her on the porch.

This is what the supervisors should have done to the nuts who lectured them. Unfortunately, the supervisors are apparently not much different, so if crazy people were going to be ejected from the room, the supervisors would have had to go, too.

Interesting side story: my sister called me a few minutes after she was expelled, threatening to have my dad arrested and disbarred. She had broken her arm in a kitchen fall weeks earlier, and she claimed my dad had re-broken it by escorting her out the door. She was furious.

While she was telling me this over the phone, she bought a Coke at a drive-through. I heard her paying and receiving a big cup. So was in terrible pain with a fresh disabling injury, but she still managed to drive to McDonald’s and buy a huge soda through a window.

As a witness, I knew the whole thing was nonsense, but I didn’t bother letting her know. I figured it would be best to provide that information after the police came, if indeed they did. They never showed.

She did call the cops on another occasion, and they took her about as seriously as you would expect. A middle-aged woman with a BMW 335i and few front teeth, making unsupported claims about an octogenarian who looked considerably less threatening than Wilford Brimley.

Not the Wilford Brimley from The Firm. The one from the oatmeal commercials.

Anyway, I know what entitlement and hatred of the truth look like, so when I saw the video, it was almost nostalgic.

The common thread is the inability to perceive one’s complete lack of leverage. In both cases, people attacked other people they depended on, made bizarre demands as though they had been cheated, and verbally abused the individuals they hoped would show them charity.

It’s not a good approach.

Government bodies and voters have become enablers, and what happens to enablers if they don’t stop? They die, consumed and defeated. Then their parasites move on to other hosts.

If you’re in God’s good graces, you have favor, and he makes you the head and not the tail. That means your enemies fail, and either he ejects them from your life, or you rule over them. You can’t have God’s favor and be an enabler. Enablers are losers.

A person who has favor will get victory over others, no matter how strong their enemies seem to be. As the Bible says, one will put a thousand to flight. If you don’t have favor, you’re the thousand, not the one. People who have no power and no leverage will push you around and eat you alive, no matter how big and strong you think you are. This is what happened to my late mother. My sister emptied her like a tube of toothpaste.

America has lost God’s favor. That’s why nuts can paint lying slogans on busy streets and throw Molotov cocktails at the police without getting in trouble. It’s why Californians are going to get some amazing tax bills in the future. They will lose and lose and lose. They turned on God, and now they’re enablers. Hosts. The parasites will eat them.

Every day, I pray for Yahweh to send Yeshua as soon as possible, to get us out. The days of revival are over. We are not going to see significant numbers of souls saved, but we will see many people lose their salvation.

Actually, there is a revival going on, and it’s huge. It’s global. It’s Satan’s revival. He has revivals, too. He lost a lot of souls in the flood and in God’s salvation campaigns. Now he’s winning again. His crusades are everywhere, and they are winning a staggering number of souls. You can see it in statistics. Now 40% of millennials identify as sexual degenerates, and Christianity has declined by about the same percentage in the US, since 2000. Those are horrific figures. Ten percent would be amazing, but we are looking at 40, and the next decade will be much worse than the last. We’re done.

It’s over.

Reparations for everyone. A global round of Bud Light. Let’s just do it. Sell drugs at McDonald’s. Let women go to malls and church naked. Take white people’s wealth. Open the prisons.

Do it do it do it. But I pray my wife and I will not be here to see it.

Cancel the Corn Cobs and Sears Catalogs

One nice thing about living in the woods is that my neighbors can’t see me when I go outside and dance for joy.

I finally got my new toilet installed.

Man, what a pain this was. Should have been a one-hour job, but some Nobel candidate decided to save three minutes while installing the previous toilet. He left the flange sticking up too high, and he put granite-like brown grout on the tile to hold the toilet up. I had to remove the grout, which took forever, and then I broke my flange because it was too high. I overtightened the bolts while trying to get the bowl to settle. I had to repair the flange.

I started my one-hour installation yesterday and just finished a few minutes ago, late in the afternoon.

I have learned some stuff that could be helpful to other people whose toilets were not installed by thoughtful, honest, or responsible individuals. Not all of it applies to people whose toilets were installed correctly. I think my advice is good. Maybe not, but it worked for me.

1. Don’t run out and buy the fanciest toilet ring kit on the market. Not unless you’re positive your flange is no more than 1/4″ above the level of the floor. Fancy ring kits have extra plastic or metal plates in them, not to mention weird gaskets that stand up, so they will not let a bowl sit as low as a plain old wax ring. Instead of buying one $12 kit, buy 5 $2 rings. You may screw one or more rings up when you install the toilet. It’s better to return unused rings later than to find yourself cursing at 10 p.m. on a weekend night because the only ring you bought is ruined.

2. The flange does not attach the toilet to the floor. Weight does most of that. Do not tighten your toilet base nuts like you’re trying to cap an oil well. Don’t listen to crusty old jack-of-all-trades characters who tell you different. Just get the nuts good and snug. Flanges are cheap and weak, and they break easily when the nuts are too tight. The boss under the toilet that fits into the poo pipe holds the toilet in place, and the bolts are only there to prevent it from rotating and tilting. It doesn’t take much force to get the job done. Replacing or repairing a broken flange can be a nightmare job that involves cutting concrete or removing part of a ceiling. Don’t risk it for no reason.

3. If you break a PVC flange, don’t buy a new one unless you’re positive the old one is hopeless. Get yourself some PVC primer and cement instead. Clean the break with a good solvent, prime it, and glue the flange back together. PVC cement literally melts PVC, so if you use it correctly, your new joint will be just as strong as unbroken PVC from the factory. I broke my flange yesterday, and then I realized I had overtightened it. Today I glued it back together, and it worked fine.

4. Do NOT try to fix a rocking toilet by piling grout, cement, epoxy, or anything else under the bowl. Not unless you have a flange that is very hard to replace. A toilet is supposed to be supported all the way around the bottom, and your fix will focus the pressure on a few spots. You want the toilet to rest directly on the floor. Grout will also make a big mess that may show the next time you install a toilet. It may have a smaller base than your old toilet.

Removing old grout from tile is no fun whatsoever. If your toilet is too high, find out if lowering the flange is easy in your case, and if so, have a plumber lower it. It probably won’t run more than $300, and you will only have to do it once in your lifetime. Make sure he uses the best flange available.

Once your flange is right, you and your heirs will never have to pay anyone to install a toilet again, because it will be easy.

5. If a slacker painted every part of your bathroom except the wall behind your toilet tank, make sure you measure your new toilet and see to it that it’s as big as the old one. Otherwise, you’ll have to paint over the parts that show. If you’re building a house, paint before installing the toilets.

6. When you seal around the bottom of the toilet, don’t seal the back. You want a gap to let water out in case of problems. Also, get a profiling tool to shape the silicone, and use a spray bottle of soapy water to make the tool leave a nice finish.

I’m not positive my new toilet’s poo pipe is sealed up well. I am still getting the hang of installing toilets on wax rings, so I had to move the toilet around a lot while I was putting it in place. Before the first shakedown cruise with live ammunition, I am flushing it over and over to see if any water comes out from the base. If so, I’ll get more wax rings and reinstall it as many times as it takes.

I’ve been thinking of looking at European websites to see how they install toilets. I’m curious I can’t make myself believe everyone on Earth uses the same stupid system we do.

I cannot wait to take the old toilet to the landfill. It will be like getting a divorce decree after a long, bad marriage.

Can Do

Forget about Tucker Carlson, our imminent civil war, and the transvestites in Sports Illustrated. I have something important to talk about. My new toilet arrived.

Most of my house’s toilets are green-fantasy basket cases designed during the Clinton years. They’re so bad, the manufacturer quit supporting them. Think about that. A toilet should last 75 years, and they quit after maybe 10. Says a lot about their confidence in the product.

Before I left las puertas del infierno, as I like to call South Florida, I had Japanese Toto-brand toilets, and they never gave me a second’s trouble. I know the Japanese have a bizarre obsession with toilets. I would say Japanese toilets are the BMW’s of toilets, but BMW is overrated and makes unreliable cars. Still, I think you get the point. I have tremendous confidence in the competence of Japanese toilet makers, just as I would have tremendous confidence in the competence of Mexicans who weld other Mexicans into the diesel tanks of northbound trucks in Tijuana. The toilet that arrived today is Japanese, and it ran about twice as much as American.

I found out there are one-piece and two-piece toilets. The one-piece jobs are better. You don’t have to connect the tank to the bowl, so there are no gaskets to go bad. I went one-piece. A wise man knows a good toilet is an important investment.

My only regret is that this bowl doesn’t have a bidet built in, but I can add a bidet seat, so no worries there.

The nice thing about my old two-piece can is that it’s a lot easier to carry and put in the back of the car so I can take it to the dump. I yanked the tank off and put it in the garage, and then I managed to get the rusty nuts off the bowl base and move the bowl out.

Guess what? When my house was built, Albert Einstein was apparently working construction on the side, because the bowl was attached to the tiles not just with silicone, which is correct, but with some kind of grouty stuff. It’s like hard mortar. Now there is a ring of stone on my floor, and I have to get rid of it before the new bowl goes in.

If there is one thing I hate about Internet DIY information, it’s this: the jobs they do in videos almost always involve things that make sense. If you look at toilet videos, you will see toilet after toilet properly installed with silicone. You will see men in clean, freshly-ironed clothes pop toilets off and put new ones on in seconds, because the people who installed the toilets they’re replacing did things right. You won’t see the toilet some genius installed with JB Weld. Seems like I always get the weird cases no one on Youtube or any Internet forum can help me with.

Someone said I should use a plastic scraper to avoid scratching the tile. No; that would be like using plastic to cut a hole in a cinderblock. A stainless scraper would take an hour.

My answer? An oscillating tool with a scraper blade, followed by a Scotchbrite pad. It should work. I think the tile is too hard for carbon steel to scratch.

My toilet was attached to the flange with zinc-plated hardware. Whom do I talk to about that? How can I join a class-action suit?

Let’s be honest. I don’t care how clean men are. Sometimes they pee on stuff. Steel does not like pee. It doesn’t like bleach, and decent housekeepers use bleach on bathroom floors. If there is a good reason to use fast-corroding hardware on a bathroom floor, I can’t imagine what it is.

I had to use a Vise Grip to get my toilet’s nuts off. Traumatizing. I’m one of those people who would rather sell a house than continue to live there after some savage used a toilet plunger on the kitchen sink, so you can imagine how much I like having my face inches from an ancient toilet while I struggle with nuts I am pretty sure have decades-old pee on them.

I tried to clean things up before I started work, but there is a limit to what you can do with a toilet older than some governors.

It’s around two p.m., and I have probably washed my hands 15 times today. I’m still afraid to touch food.

When I’m done with this can, I have to think about the three I have upstairs. Moving a toilet across the house alone was no fun. Stairs will require paid help unless I go with two-piece toilets.

Maybe I’ll replace one can every 6 months or so. There is no rush.

Someone should make Al Gore eat these things.

I Still Don’t Have Enough .22 Pistols

Because I am in some ways a frivolous person, I am currently thinking about buying a .22 pistol with a red dot sight. Mission: kill squirrels and generally plink while out and about on the farm. A big .22 pistol with a large magazine is actually a better self-defense gun than the pistols I generally carry, and it’s fun for goofing around. It’s also a lot lighter and smaller than a rifle.

What about all the other .22 pistols I have? Why can’t I settle for one of them? Nice try. This one is different. It’s the kind of pistol that keeps David Hogg awake at night. It’s semiautomatic, and it looks sort of like an AR-15.

Of course, I’m talking about the Mossberg 715P. I’ll insert a video of a lady shooting one.

It’s pretty hilarious. That big, fat AR-looking mass is really a thin plastic shell. It’s like a toy gun. The actual gun is hidden inside it, and it’s just a cheap .22 rifle receiver. It’s like a movie studio hired someone to make a Marlin Model 60 look like an AR.

Nonetheless, it works, as you can see in the video.

By the way, the Marlin Model 60 is dead. Ruger bought Marlin and decided to kill the Model 60, so looks like the 10/22 won the budget .22 war by forced default. Ruger could make new Model 60’s, but they say they have no plans to do it.

The Mossberg is pretty clearly not the highest expression of the gun manufacturer’s art. It’s a low-end product. But it hits a spot that definitely exists.

I guess some people will huff and puff and say a 10mm Glock is better for self-defense. No, it isn’t. The Mossberg is far better. It holds 26 rounds of .22 LR, and it has a red dot. A good marksman could pop an assailant over and over, accurately, from a distance that would make using a Glock challenging. If you can shoot your perp over and over before he gets close, you can disable him without allowing him to get near enough to get a fair shot at you. In self-defense, fairness is a giant mistake.

A .22 round isn’t as damaging as a 10mm round, but hitting someone 100 feet away, over and over, with little rounds, is a lot better than hitting him three or 4 times with big bullets when he’s 20 feet away, shooting back. Think how discouraging it would be to know the person you wanted to kill could shoot you maybe 20 times before you could do a thing to him.

Any semiauto .22 that can be fired accurately and easily at relatively long ranges is better for protection from distant human beings than any big-bore pistol that’s hard to aim and has a lot of recoil. If I had to shoot a person from 50 yards with a Glock, I’d have to settle for shooting at the body and keeping shots within a one-foot circle. If I were using a Marlin 60, I could shoot him through the head repeatedly without much effort, even if I was scared and shaking.

Shot placement is a very, very big deal. Criminals have survived multiple badly-placed torso shots from .45 pistols, and they have continued to attack and harm people after the shots landed, but one shot from an accurate .22 rifle can kill any terrestrial mammal on Earth.

For a long time, the record grizzly bear was a huge animal a lady shot in the head with a .22. The bear was enormous, and it scared an American Indian woman. She popped it in the skull, and it dropped. Then she moved up close and emptied the gun into the skull to make sure the bear’s nap continued. You can see a photo of the skull online. People think bears’ skulls are so thick high-powered rifle slugs bounce off of them. Well, not this bear’s. Not where she aimed, anyway. And she was only using .22 Long.

You don’t need a big cartridge to kill a big animal unless you can’t take your best shot. If you can take your time and shoot wherever you want, you can kill an elephant with a .22. It has been done.

I don’t know why I’m mentioning self-defense (or elephants), because I want this gun for fun. I suppose it helps me justify buying it.

Why not put a folding AK in the cart and forget about all this? Because a .22 is what you want for a cart. You want something small, light, cheap, and fun to shoot.

The problem with the Mossberg 715P is the Ruger Charger. It’s another .22 pistol. The appearance isn’t as hilarious as that of the Mossberg, but it’s a better gun. It’s a 10/22 with the barrel and buttstock abbreviated.

You can get a Charger with a 10″ barrel, which would give higher velocity and less noise than the Mossberg’s short barrel. The Charger would also have all sorts of support, because the 10/22 is more common than the Bic lighter. Unfortunately, it costs more than the 715P, and I would have to blow about $85 for a cheap red dot to sit on it.

If I felt like it, I could keep a Charger in the utility cart and keep a huge 10/22 magazine with it. I could use a smaller magazine for fooling around, and then if black-clad transvestite ninjas from an allegedly nonexistent domestic terror organization decided to come to my farm and murder me for pointing out that men aren’t women, I could put the big magazine in and spray my way to the house, where I could reach for a more serious rifle. Or a few of them.

One neat thing about these guns is that you can put a pistol brace on either one and end up with a really neat and handy little rifle. You just have to buy an NFA stamp.

So do I get the Mossberg, which is more fun, or do I get the Charger, which is more gun? Or do I do the mature thing and forget about it?

I think we can rule out option #3.

I Physically Feel my Life Being Enriched

I’m waiting for some paint to dry, so I came up with a task for ChatGPT. I told it to write a poem in the manner of “The Walrus and the Carpenter,” but I said to make the lead characters Hillary Clinton and Hunter Biden.

Here is what it wrote, in about 15 seconds:

Of Hillary Clinton and Hunter Biden, I sing,
Two figures of politics, quite a thing!
They wandered down to the ocean blue,
In search of a meal and a good laugh too.

Said Clinton to Hunter, “Let’s take a stroll,
And find ourselves a tasty goal.”
Said Hunter, “I know just what to do,
We’ll hunt for some crabs, it’s easy too.”

They searched and searched along the shore,
Till Hunter found some crabs galore.
He said to Clinton, “Come take a look,
We’ll cook them up in a fancy nook.”

They gathered sticks and made a fire,
And cooked the crabs to their desire.
But when they went to take a bite,
The crabs had fled in great fright.

Said Clinton, “Hunter, what have you done?
Our meal is gone, we’ve had no fun.”
Said Hunter, “Don’t worry, we’ll find a way,
To catch those crabs another day.”

And so they left the beach that night,
Without a meal or any delight.
But they still had each other, that’s for sure,
And the promise of crabs, to catch and allure.

It refused to write one about Keith Olbermann and Charles Manson, so I asked for Olbermann and Ted Nugent.

Of Keith Olbermann and Ted Nugent, I write,
Two men with views that oftentimes ignite.
They met one day upon a wooded trail,
Both hunters, though with different tales to regale.

Said Nugent, “Keith, let’s hunt some game today,
I know a spot where we can surely slay.”
Olbermann agreed, but with some trepidation,
He feared he’d face Nugent’s bombastic proclamations.

As they ventured through the woods and brush,
They talked of guns, politics, and other such.
But as they walked, they both espied,
A rare bird with plumage bright and wide.

Said Nugent, “That’s dinner, let’s take it down!”
But Olbermann recoiled, with a frown.
He said, “Ted, can’t we just watch it soar,
And admire the beauty that we adore?”

Nugent laughed, and said, “You’re quite the sight,
Not wanting to hunt, that’s not quite right.”
But Olbermann stood firm in his beliefs,
And said, “Let’s leave this bird to peace.”

So they parted ways, with different views,
But both respected the other’s pursuits.
For though their opinions were often in dispute,
They both enjoyed the thrill of the hunt, just in different pursuit.

The poems are not really funny, the rhythm is off, the number of stanzas is wrong in each case, and the bot clearly hates hunting, but the fact that it did this well is something to think about.

MORE

I got it to write a better poem.

Once upon a time, in the land of the news,
A laptop was found, causing quite the blues,
For it belonged to Hunter, the son of a man,
Whose name was Biden, part of a political clan.

The laptop was filled, with some juicy stuff,
That made the journalists, huff and puff,
They said it was fake, and just a sham,
But the evidence was clear, and it wasn’t a scam.

Hunter’s laptop, was the real deal,
It had all the facts, and the journalists could feel,
The weight of their words, and the doubt they sowed,
For the truth was out there, and it freely flowed.

The laptop contained, some pictures and more,
Of Hunter’s life, that he couldn’t ignore,
There were messages and emails, that were quite a sight,
That shed light on his dealings, and caused some fright.

The journalists denied, that it was true,
But the laptop was real, and the proof just grew,
They couldn’t hide, from the facts that emerged,
And the public saw, how their trust was purged.

So let this be a lesson, to all the journalists out there,
To never underestimate, the truth that’s rare,
For it may come back, to haunt and reveal,
That what they thought was fake, was actually real.