Abd Al-Bari Atwan, editor-in-chief of the UK-based Arabic daily Al-Quds Al-Arabi, told a Lebanese TV interviewer he will dance in Trafalgar Square when Iran nukes Israel.
Bari Atwan is also a contributor to the BBC and Sky News, neither of whom seem to have much of a problem with this.
Bari Atwan founded the pan-Arab daily in London in 1989, and today the paper has a circulation of around 50,000. He is also a regular commentator on Sky News and BBC News 24.
Sky News refused to comment specifically on his comments.
“It is not our policy to comment on what contributors may or may not say on other channels,” said Adrian Wells, head of foreign news at Sky.
A BBC spokesman told The Jerusalem Post that editors make decisions based on the following BBC guidelines.
“We should not automatically assume that academics and journalists from other organizations are impartial and make it clear to our audience when contributors are associated with a particular viewpoint.”
"The wind blows where it wishes and you hear the sound of it, but do not know where it comes from and where it is going; so is everyone who is born of the Spirit."
What has to happen before our world will wake up? If you don't understand the sheer evil of Islam (as it is laced with Islamofascism), then here is an example. We free a people to do what they want, and they persecute Christians, and expel Jews.
Baghdad was once one of the great cradles of Jewish culture and wisdom, but now, according to the Christian priest who has been looking after them, there are only eight Jews left in the Iraqi capital, and their situation is "more than desperate." The Rev. Canon Andrew White, the Anglican chaplain to Iraq, says that the small group is in considerable danger. However, the community has been unable to agree to emigrate as a whole. Some of its members, without identifying themselves as Jews, have attempted to leave individually, but have been turned down. White says that only one of the Jews, a woman, still regularly goes to a Baghdad synagogue, though he will give no details.
There are, obviously, other forms of racism than anti-Semitism. And, there are other large racist organizations other than Al Qaeda, Hamas, and Fatah.
One of the most pernicious and disgusting of these organizations if Movimiento Estudiantil Chicano de Aztlán.
Check out this article. You're not going to believe it, unless you've seen it for yourself (Thanks to Michael):
By Investigative Reporter John Taft April 25, 2006 NewsWithViews.com
"You (gringos) have spilled enough of our blood, now it's your turn to bleed, you [expletive] sub-human beasts." So said an editorial in the University of California Irvine's Hispanic LaVoz Mestiza. Professor Gutierrez, employed by the University of Texas, founder of La Raza said, "We have got to eliminate the gringo, and what I mean by that is if the worst comes to the worst, we have got to kill him." Now that isn't very neighborly.
A Chicano organization called MEChA wants to take over much of the US Southwest, an area they call Aztlan said, "For the race everything. For those outside the race, nothing." Another "D" for a bad attitude. Other similar groups include: The La Raza Unida Party, Brown Berets de Aztlan, OLA (Organization for the Liberation of Aztlan), and the Nation of Aztlan. These are radical organizations that can be found in many American high schools and most colleges. They hate America and love its enemies. They are brimming over with race hatred, anti-Semitism, and a history of communist leanings and communist support. They have an irrational anger aimed at their stupid benefactors. Recent mass marches have emboldened these people who do pose a real threat to this nation. Many are illegals and profess their allegiance not to the United States where they live, but to the authoritarian corrupt state of Mexico.
Why are these Chicano groups willing to use violence, kill the gringo, and steal his home and land? Here is what Lou Dobbs has to say: "There are some Mexican citizens and some Mexican -Americans who want to see California, New Mexico and other parts of the southwestern United States given over to Mexico. These groups call it the reconquista, Spanish for reconquest." The word "some" Dobbs uses runs into the hundreds of thousands and perhaps millions judging by the recent filling of streets with anti US Mexican flag wavers. A revolution is taking place while the spectators watch.
The Enemy Within
MEChA has declared war on the United States, the Constitution, and the Declaration of Independence. So far it has done this with impunity with the help of treacherous senators, congressmen, university officials, along with the enemies of this nation. MEChA is bold and aggressive using this nation's economy, welfare programs, and its educational system. While filling their bellies and needs at the expense of the American taxpayer, they're plotting the overthrow of this republic in broad daylight. MEChA is nurtured and protected by the University of California at Irvine. MEChA has spread its venomous rhetoric through an estimated 300 chapters in universities and schools across the United States. Their plan EL PLAN DE AZTLÁN is available for all to read. It's full of race hated, threats, and the use of their bodies for war and their youth to commit revolutionary acts of violence against this nation and its people.
MEChA is appealing to all Hispanics to join their so- called revolution. The illegal aliens and lack of national border control are issues that are developing into a life or death struggle determining whether this republic shall endure as we have know it for the past 230 years. This is a threat with a potential that rivals Iran and radical Islam and it's in our communities and cities across the nation. Our national leaders are turning their backs to this threat while smiling and looking for Hispanic votes. The illegal aliens are the grunts for an army of gorilla fighters MEChA and other Chicano groups would like to create. Amnesty will make no difference to them, for the beat of their drums will continue. With amnesty, millions more of Mexico's poor and hungry will attempt to enter the US for a free ride on the backs of US taxpayers.
There are large numbers of Hispanics who are not integrating into this society. They are not learning English as shown by the number of Spanish radio stations, businesses that tell you to push one for Spanish or two for English, and bilingual schools. Whole communities, like Maywood, California, in Los Angeles are nearly 100 percent Hispanic. And their allegiance to a corrupt Mexico, though hard to understand, is obvious. This was demonstrated visually when Hispanics legal and illegals filled American streets with protestors wanting open boarders, and amnesty for illegals, while waving Mexican flags. There was a backlash to the Mexican flag waving, so now they wave American flags thinking to fool the watchers, thus making them hypocrites and deceivers.
Demonstrations like this don't happen in Mexico where Mexican authorities rape, rob, and beat illegals passing through their county as documented in the linked article. Mexico supports illegal aliens leaving Mexico and illegally crossing our border but doesn't want illegals entering Mexico. MEChA's Plan to Seize the southwestern United States
MEChA says in the Plan, "A nation autonomous and free - culturally, socially, economically, and politically- will make its own decisions on the usage of our lands, the taxation of our goods, the utilization of our bodies for war, the determination of justice (reward and punishment), and the profit of our sweat." The, "our lands" is the land owned by American citizens. How does MEChA propose to obtain this land of the southwestern states? Their Plan indicates they will use violence with physical force to remove the gringo from his property. Let's look at the following statements from the Plan.
"EDUCATION must be relative to our people, i.e., history, culture, bilingual education, contributions, etc. Community control of our schools, our teachers, our administrators, our counselors, and our programs."
"POLITICAL LIBERATION can only come through independent action on our part, since the two-party system is the same animal with two heads that feed from the same trough. Where we are a majority, we will control; where we are a minority, we will represent a pressure group; nationally, we will represent one party: La Familia de La Raza!"
"El Plan de Aztlán is the plan of liberation! Those institutions which are fattened by our brothers to provide employment and political pork barrels for the gringo will do so only as acts of liberation and for La Causa. For the very young there will no longer be acts of juvenile delinquency, but revolutionary acts."
"We must insure that our writers, poets, musicians, and artists produce literature and art that is appealing to our people and relates to our revolutionary culture."
One could reasonably ask why MEChA doesn't make Mexico an economic powerhouse. The answer is easy; they are having so much success in the US, and they want to steal, like thieves in the night, the wealth of someone else's hard work. The goose that lays the golden egg is in danger.
There is nothing cheap about illegals.
California taxpayers paid an extra $9 billion in taxes to support illegals according to a 2004 report by the Federation for American Immigration Reform, a Washington, D.C. organization that endorses stricter immigration policies. Contributing to this expense are education at around $8 thousand per illegal child or those born to illegal parents, medical care, and prison costs. A similar study in 2004 by the Center for Immigration Studies in Washington, D.C. claimed that illegal aliens cost the federal government $10 billion more than is collected in taxes from them.
That includes $2.2 billion for medical care for uninsured illegal aliens. Another $1.9 billion goes to food assistance programs like food stamps and school lunch programs. Illegal immigrant children cost taxpayers $1.4 billion in aid to schools to help pay their costs. The states' taxpayers carry the major part of the cost to care for the millions of illegals in this country. When schools ask for more money, ask how many illegals are in the classroom and if the citizenship of the parents and child was checked. The costs mentioned are disputed by others who claim the costs of illegals aliens is much higher. Illegals and Crime in the United States Illegals are creating a huge crime wave all across the United States. Here is what Russell Pearce, representing Arizona's 18th district says on his website, "Perhaps as high as 80% of the violent crime in the Phoenix area involves illegal aliens (according to Phoenix Chief Hurt and Mesa police violent crimes response team). Over 4000 homicide warrants were issued by the Border States to suspects who are believed to have fled south of the border into Mexico. Maricopa County Hospital loses over $2 million weekly on uncompensated care (largely do to illegal aliens). In 2003, 77 border hospitals filed for bankruptcy." The US is a big candy land for the uneducated, criminals, and often sick illegal aliens. The illegals aliens have found there is a free lunch, free medical care, free education, and there really is a Santos Claus, a big, stupid, pale-faced gringo. Hispanic Professor Jose Angel Gutierrez at the University of Texas describes the gringo as, "Our Devil with pale skin and blue eyes." This pale-faced gringo sounds more like a fool than a devil. And guess who the all day sucker is; it's none other than John Q. Taxpayer. He's represented in congress by a bunch of enablers called congressmen and senators including Sen. John McCain and company. Jack Abramoff isn't the only guy that should be behind bars.
The next article; "Congress Supperts Vote Theft by Illegal Aliens." This part will discuss: Terrorists Crossing the Border, Illegal Aliens Sway Elections and Steal Your Destiny, Oregon Schools Superintendent Susan Castillo is Dangerous to Republic, Democrats and Republicans Pander to Hispanic Vote ignoring polls, and Is Congress Creating a Revolution? All this and more. Be sure to visit NewsWithViews.com next week, May 2, 2006 for part two.
The "Mexican flag-wavers" the writer refers to in the above article, were in the streets of Los Angeles on in May of 2006. There was a huge demonstration which clogged the freeways across the hundreds of square miles that is the city of Los Angeles.
I had the distinct displeasure of attempting to drive home from Santa Monica that day, and thus I got to see the whole spectacle as if it were a backwards parade.
It was a frightening spectacle, to be perfectly frank. Let me be clear, I was not afraid that they would tear me out of my car, and kill me. I was, instead, afraid for the future of America.
There is a Mecha Chapter on almost every single college campus in America.
Bush, who has routinely described Iraq as the central front in the war on terror, sought to offer a more detailed breakdown of the threat to the U.S.
He said violent Islamic radicalism has two "strains"—Sunni extremism, as embodied by al-Qaida, and Shia extremism, as represented by Iran's government. "We will confront this danger before it's too late," Bush said.
Bush pointedly accused Iran's leadership of trying to destabilize Iraq, calling Tehran a destructive influence that puts American lives at risk.
"Iran is sending arms to the Taliban in Afghanistan to be used to attack American and NATO troops," Bush said. "Iran has arrested visiting American scholars who have committed no crimes and impose no threat to their regime. And Iran's active pursuit of technology that could lead to nuclear weapons threatens to put a region already known for instability and violence under the shadow of a nuclear holocaust. Iran's actions threaten the security of nations everywhere."
You can't just go around using words like that, and not back it up, can you?
In a moment of candor, I would like to admit that I am a member of a large clandestine organization (which helps to fund me, and sets my agenda). It is called:
Big Tobacco, Wal-Mart Apologizing, Global Warming-Supporters, Who Are Doing It All To Kill Innocent Iraqis.
Special Agent Coretta recently sent me the following transmission:
I was down in Kennebunkport this weekend for a counter protest with Gathering of Eagles, and the anti-war anti-American leftitsts showed up as well. These "Liberals" when they passed by us in their parade made it a point to tell me how I should think by saying I should be ashamed of myself for the group I was standing with and proudly standing with too.
When they would say that to me, I said to them, "Don't blame me that you don't have any common sense," and I would touch my head and say, "I let this define," - and then I touched my skin - "not this."
(Coretta is a woman of color.)
These Liberals like to talk out against racism, when in fact they are some of the most racist people around. Also what a condescending attitude. How dare I think different. As a woman of color a hatred of America should come automaticallly to me. Hating Republicans should come automaticallyfor me. Hating all wars should come automatically to me.
I will NEVER hate America. I live in the greatest country in theworld. I'm forever grateful to the Republican party. MY party which was formed to free the slaves, and has, and still does stand for the rights of individuals as people, and treats them with respect. And I'm thankful for our military. We wish we could live in a war free world, but unfortneately we don't.
We have chants we say at these protests. "War freed the slaves. War saved the Jews."
THE HAGUE, 22/08/07 - The former Open Air Bible Museum near Nijmegen has received 500,000 euro in subsidy from oil state Oman. With this, the museum will expand to include a House of Koran.
The Open Air Bible Museum recently changed its name to Museumpark Orientalis. Along with its name, the museum’s objective has changed. Formerly a traditional Catholic pilgrim’s place, the museum is now to be transformed to an ‘intercultural museum’ for Judaism, Christianity and Islam.
In January of next year, the open-air museum in the village of Heilig Landstichting near Nijmegen is to receive 500,000 euro from the Ambassador of the Sultanate of Oman, Khadija Al-Lawat for the construction of the House of Koran. A museum spokesperson yesterday stated that there are also plans for a House of Mohammed and a “museum mosque”.
Oman and the museum management wish to demonstrate that The Netherlands holds “ample opportunities for intercultural cooperation”. According to a statement, they believe in “a society where cohesion and trust is stronger than mistrust and sometimes even hate”.
In 2011, Museumpark Orientalis also hopes to have constructed a House of Jesus, a House of Moses, a Bible House, a Tenach House, a Jerusalem House, a House of Meetings and a Spiritual Garden. First, however, it has to win a legal procedure instigated by Bishop Hurkmans of Den Bosch, who wants the museum to restrict itself to Christianity.
The museum was originally a pilgrim’s place for Roman Catholics. In 2002, Bishop Hurkmans sent its management home in an attempt to block the switch to multiculturalism. At the time, a museum spokesman however said the financially ailing museum would probably not survive if the switch and the subsidies accompanying it were called off.
"Allah does not respect the free will of man, in fact, human free will is illusory at best.By this logic, all three thousand people who lost their lives on September 11, 2001 as a result of jihad action would have died at that hour regardless.
And furthermore, because Allah did not intervene, it was Allah’s will that it happened. The jihadis who perpetrated this act, were only puppets on a stage, obeying the will of Allah according to a pre-written script. They did not cause all those deaths and all that destruction; rather, according to Islamic logic, Allah caused it as punishment for our sins, the sins of America as a collective entity.
This further reduces to: everything that occurs in the reality of the material world we live in is a direct result of Allahâ's will. Human will is but an instrument of the will of Allah and therefore does not have an independent existence in the overall trend of Islamic thought. "
.....
"I contend this is the equivalent to asserting not that everything is God's will, but rather that nothing is God's will, or even that there is no God, because there is no distinction between what is and what is not God's will in the reality of the material world: the good and the evil deeds of man are both equally and ultimately the result of the will of God.
In this view, as the Pope pointed out, God's purpose is so transcendent as to be unknowable, which is to say, God is unknowable to the individual. And again there is no practical difference between that and the assertion that God does not exist, for His will, and therefore God himself, according to Islam, cannot be known.
This is equivalent to saying that the difference between good and evil cannot be known, and this is so regardless of the existence of a list of accepted and prohibited actions put forth as God's will by Islam on the basis of Muhammad's example as the ultimate arbiter between truth and error.
Goodness and Truth do not have an independent existence in Islam; they are entirely dependent on the Islamic creed.""Furthermore, according to Winston Churchill, the Muslim belief in predestination engenders a fearful, fatalistic apathy which paralyses the social development of those who follow it, for Allahs will is fixed in a one-size-fits-all pattern and is not unique to the individual believer.
The individual's relationship to Allah is bound completely by the believer's obedience to Islam. Therefore, believers in Islam are actually barred from the greatest adventure known to man, that of finding God (goodness, truth and beauty) as an individual experiential reality.
This is so because Allah's will is so transcendent as to be incomprehensible. Thus the testing of the believer is reduced to a test of conformity to the creed rather than a testing of the ability to discover what is right and true uniquely for himself.
This is equivalent to Allah is Dead.
The most heinous acts, collective and individual, can be rationalized as Allah's will and this of course is a prescription for social chaos."
...
"Indeed, if morality is not conceived and actuated as being an individual matter, must it not at some point become coercive and cruel? And what could be conceived of as more cruel than the removal of an individual's God-given freedom? Under Islam, the removal of that freedom is so complete as to deny it exists at all."
"The unspoken assertion here is that the divine will can be known, that good and evil can be distinguished by reason, and that God can be approached through the mind by our decisions first to know good and to then be good.
In Islam, on the contrary, the bridge to God through the reasoning mind is cut. Allah demands unquestioning obedience and total sacrifice, including the sacrifice of the ability to know good from evil as an individual, private matter, for the will of Allah is not a personal experience.
The Islamic system has totally usurped the place of the living God for the believer: worship and obedience are one."
"And reason cannot compromise with unreason without destroying the basis for its existence. By the same token, unreason cannot become reasonable without destroying itself as well. There is simply no way the hoped-for reform of Islam by way of reason would not end in Islam's ultimate destruction, but this is not an outcome to be feared. It should be welcomed"
I don't know that I agree with that last paragraph. It seems clear to me, but then I do not know Hebrew, that the Bible calls for the stoning of apostates, adulterers, and homosexuals (and yet, Christians and Jews have moved past that barbaristic idea).
There are three basic things I object to in Islam:
1) the death sentence for apostates, adulterers, and homosexuals,
2) the subjugation of women (women are worth half that of men, they must wear the burqa, or the hijab,
and
3) the waging of violent Jihad against Infidels and Jews.
If Muslims could find their way past these ideas, then I would have no problem with Islam.
Problem is, I agree with Rebecca Bynum that this will require the intervention of human will and intelligence.
The reality is, there is a mechanism within Islam for such human will and intelligence to intervene. It is called itJihad. This is a process of reasoning through the Koran, and understanding how it applies in the individual, and daily cirumstances with which we are faced.
This is very similar to the Talmudic process, which I believe, cleansed Judaism of its earlier barbarism.
Believe it or not, those words were just written by a person who is actually a believer in, not only, God, but in the Bible as the Word of God.
Here's how I think of it:
When God speaks Truth to mankind, He must necessarily speak in Words which mankind can understand. God may want mankind to come to a new understanding, but that will not happen without human decision (will).
When humans come to a realization, it is a matter of their will. They make a decision to follow a new course of thought or action.
When human beings make a decision to follow a new course of thought or action, they have created a paradigm shift, which ripples out across the waters of the world.
In other words, new ideas, quite literally, change the world.
When the world is changed, then God can speak to the world in a new way, in a new language, in a new paradigm.
And then, mankind must go through the process, all over again, of coming to assimilate and understand the new paradigm to which God is leading us.
But, it must be by our will, not His; because He has granted us Free Will.
There you go, my friends. Those are the thoughts of Pastorius the Profound.
When I was a little kid (by that I mean before the time of puberty, before I was 13 or so), I was very into reading. Early on, I moved on into books which, to tell the truth, were beyond my ken.
They were, for the most part, books about sports, or, as I would learn, about athletes, and the tests they go though.
Now that I think about it, there was one other book which was a big influence on me; The Boys Of Summer by Roger Kahn.
The thread that ties these books together is that they are all written by very open-minded men who are not afraid to say what they think. Wilt Chamberlain, Jim Bouton, Roger Kahn, and Howard Cosell, to this day, are the literary backdrop of my life.
Later, as I grew up, I gained new influences, Hunter S. Thompson, Friedrick Nietzsche, Graham Greene, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Albert Camus, etc., but I would have to admit that Koufax, Kosell, Bouton, and Chamberlain form the backdrop; the scenery of my mind.
That and the movie Patton, especially this scene:
I actually persuaded relative after relative into taking me to see this movie. I must have seen this movie eight or nine times by the one-year mark after which it was released. Here's the money quote for me:
"American love a winner, and will not tolerate a loser. I wouldn't give a hoot in hell for a loser, because the very thought of losing is hateful to Americans."
I do not have sons. I only have daughters. But, I love to watch boxing, and Ultimate Fighting. Sometimes, my daughters will come and interrupt me while I am watching the matches. I have had the experience of having them ask me, "Daddy, what are you watching?"
Here is my answer:
"I am watching a sport, the purpose of which is to punch the other guy in the head so hard that he loses his ability to even think. At that point, you have won."
My daughter's always look at me like I am crazy. Hell, my wife looks at me like I am crazy. But, the truth is, this is how I have been winning (metaphorically-speaking) all my life.
This is how men fight.
And now, you have to ask yourselves, do you want a world which is ruled by men, or by women?
Hmm???
Obviously, rationality is not arbitrated by force.
A charter school has been ordered to temporarily suspend Hebrew classes while officials try to determine whether teachers are advocating the Jewish faith.
Broward Schools Superintendent James Notter sent a letter to officials at the Ben Gamla Charter School in Hollywood on Wednesday advising them to halt Hebrew classes until the school board could further examine the curriculum.
"If it comes up in the course of conversation, that is one thing but if it comes to promoting religion or proselytizing, we don't want it to happen," said Keith Bromery, a spokesman for the Broward schools.
Ben Gamla is in its first week of operation as the country's first Hebrew-language charter school, but school founder Peter Deutsch, a former Democratic congressman, said he told teachers Thursday to halt the classes. He said he shared Notter's aim to ensure religion doesn't enter a publicly funded school.
"His goal and my goal are really exactly the same," Deutsch said.
The ban on Hebrew will extend at least until Sept. 11, when the board next meets. Until then, time that would have been spent on language instruction will be used teaching Israeli geography and Jewish history and culture.
Deutsch said he believes the school has every right to continue Hebrew classes, but decided to stop them to ease concerns. Both he and school board member Eleanor Sobel, in whose district Ben Gamla is located, have described their efforts as "bending over backwards" for one another.
Ben Gamla presented its curriculum to the board for a third time Tuesday, but Sobel said it still had religious overtones.
"We're going into the fourth round now and maybe that's what it takes to get it right," she said. Ben Gamla, which has about 400 students in kindergarten through eighth grades, has generated controversy since it was proposed. Students follow state curriculum, but also were to take a Hebrew language course, and one of their core subjects - math or physical education, for example - was to be taught bilingually as well.
School officials ran into tough opposition at Broward County School Board meetings when proposing Hebrew textbooks that included passages criticized as being too religious. Even the Anti-Defamation League and the Jewish Federation of Broward County have expressed church-state separation issues.
Ben Gamla hopes to expand further in South Florida and to open schools in New York and Los Angeles. It takes its name from a Jewish high priest, serves kosher food, and its director is a rabbi. Without Hebrew classes, though, Deutsch said its most central component is missing. "It is kind of crazy - the only Hebrew-English charter school in America doesn't teach Hebrew," he said.
Sounds like Mr. Ben Gamla has a good attitutde about cooperating with U.S. laws.
Our family recently decided to adopt a dog. The dog belongs to my oldest daughter. She had been bugging us for months and months to get a dog, but neither my wife nor I really like dogs, and neither one of us wanted to take care of the dog.
But when someone brought this poor little frightened thing to work, we decided we couldn't help ourselves.
But, here was the deal. Both my wife and I pretended (and, by the way, we didn't even plan this out together, it just happened naturally) that neither one of us wanted the dog, that we were only doing it for our daughter, and we both told her, "The dog is your responsibility. That means, you are cleaning up the dog poop. Do you understand?"
Our daughter said, "Yes, I will do it." (I told my wife that, if our daughter refused to do her duty, I would get rid of the dog immediately.)
I have marveled as my little "Princess" has transformed herself from dainty little neo-bitch to pooper-scooper extraordinaire. I'm proud to say, my girl has done an amazing job of taking care of her little friend.
Now, that we are past the point of no return, I might as well admit that there was no way I would have ever gotten rid of the dog. I love her very much. She's so darn cute.
:)
Now, here's the thing, the reason for this post:
One of the things I find most interesting about the dog is it is one-person dog. However, that does not mean that it likes only my daughter.
No!
Instead, the dog has chosen a hierarchy.
The dog like the members of our family in the following order:
1) My eldest daughter
2) My youngest daughter
3) Me
4) My wife
Maybe that's not interesting to anyone else in the world, but it is to me.
UPDATE: My wife says, the dog likes her better. I said, "Oh really?" And, she said, "Yes, if it were just you and I home and we were both sitting at our computers, whose feet would she sleep at?"
It seems to me, a divided soul divides, continually, itself from itself.
This is the condition of the human race, but it is felt acutely, as if it were a kind of metasticized cancer, in the adopted person.
I once began a piece of fiction I wrote with the following words:
By the time I was born, I had had enough of death ...
Only an adopted person can truly understand that statement, and yet, every human can sympathize with such a feeling.
The Bible says,
For He chose us in Him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love He predestined us to be adopted as His sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will— to the praise of His glorious grace, which He has freely given us in the One He loves. In Him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God's grace that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding. And he made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ ...
I cry Abba (Father - "Daddy"), like a Blues singer, "all night long ..."
The great stories of the Bible (of Moses, of Ruth, of David) are stories of longing. Longing is the story of the human spirit.
Michael Vick Will Plead Guilty Ok Fine, Here's What He Should Say
I used to run an Advertising Agency, so I have an interest in Public Relations. In fact, I have had to write not a few Press Releases for my clients in my time. Here's what Michael Vick should say, in my opinion:
"I, Michael Vick, just want to tell you all that, not only am I sorry to have hurt you, but that I must admit that I now know that my actions are so beyond the bounds of what is morally acceptable to society, that I realize I must be a mentally ill human being.
As such, I intend to seek Psychological help, so that I can learn the root source of my illness. I believe that only by coming to understand what causes my sick behavior can I learn to overcome such behavior in the future.
I believe it is my responsibility to those who I have hurt, and to society at large to go through this process. I hope that you will all have patience with me, and pray for my recovery."
Now understand, I am saying this is what he should say, if he ever wants to be able to get back into the good graces of the public again.
His own real moral accountability is another thing entirely. That's between him and his Maker.
"After consulting with his family over the weekend, Michael Vick asked that I announce today that he has reached an agreement with federal prosecutors regarding the charges pending against him," Martin's statement said.
"Mr. Vick has agreed to enter a plea of guilty to those charges and to accept full responsibility for his actions and the mistakes he has made."
"Michael wishes to apologizes again to everyone who has been hurt by this matter."
Now, does that statement sound like a pile of horseshit, or what? Does it make you feel ready to forgive Michael Vick and go on?
Here's something to contemplate on a Sunday, cuz today is, you know, the Christian Sabbath. The band is Pearl Jam fronted by singer Chris Cornell.
Sorry about the quality of the video, but I think it is good enough, and the performance is pretty decent. (I'm not recommending listening to the whole song, unless you really want to. The point is just for you to hear what it sounds like. It is a long jam. The point of this is to get to the story behind the song, and what the lyrics are about.)
Now, here's the story behind this song. It is about a man named Andrew Wood, who used to front a band called Mother Love Bone. (An interesting aside: Think about it, the band Pearl Jam was birthed out of Mother Love Bone. Yes, get it? Pretty bad joke there, huh?)
Anyway, the reason Pearl Jam came out of Mother Love Bone, and the reason they are the supporting band on this song (after all, Chris Cornell was singing for a band called Soundgarden at the time), is because Andrew Wood killed himself. I guess many say he "overdosed on heroin," but from the tenor of the things people have said about him, it has always sounded to me like the overdose was purposeful.
But, what do I know?
Anyway, after Andrew died, Mother Love Bone wanted to do a tribute album to Andrew and since Chris Cornell was also a friend of the man, they asked him to help out.
What resulted is one of the most extraordinary albums in rock history, if you ask me.
Chris Cornell's lyrics on this albums are a profound meditation on life's ultimate questions. It seems that Cornell was attempting to think through what must have been going on in his friend's mind in those final days of his life.
And on this song, Reach Down, I believe Chris Cornell figured it out, and figured out the answer to life, and what would have been the door out for Andrew.
But alas, Andrew never found the door, and instead, closed the shades, and shot himself up with a lethal dose of smack.
Here are the lyrics to the song:
I had a dream the other night You were in a bar in the corner on a chair Wearing a long white leather coat Purple glasses and glitter in your hair And you said hey this is where Im gonna sit And buy you a drink someday You were going to the dog shows But you kinda lost your way You say now I got all this room And no money to decorate it, so some Local customer put me in touch with the man Upstairs, he said little man you got no Business gettin frustrated, you gotta rest You gotta rest You gotta reach down And pick the crowd up Carry them in your hands To the promised land Yes, I think this is the truth. The answer to life's ultimate questions is to help. When I feel troubled, I try to think about how I can help. What can I contribute? What can I give? It is true, that we're all "little men" and we have no business getting all frustrated. Instead, we need to learn to follow Christ's example, and simply, help those in need. Of course, it takes His strength alive in us. We can't do it by ourselves.
(Personal note: Apologies to my relative from the UK. Do not read this post. You will not like it. Go down to the next few posts and read the last two weeks or so. You will like those.)
There are few people in this world for whose intelligence I have more respect than Baron Bodissey of Gates of Vienna.
But, guess what?
I actually got the opportunity to tell Baron something he didn't know about today. (I know, I know, you're saying, "Woo-freaking-hoo, Pastorius. Who cares?" But, I'm so proud of myself.) Here's what I told him about; a writer named Paul Bowles.
So anyway, though Bowles was a freak, he was an aesthetically brilliant writer. I, myself, write fiction, so I study all the great writers I can find. Bowles came highly recommended to me by a man I admire, so I began to read him, and, well yes, he is a great writer. He wrote a book called The Sheltering Sky, which is brilliant, and was made into a movie by the legendary director Bernardo Bertolucci.
Bowles is one of the first western writers of fiction that treats Islam equally to European society. Islam is not merely a backdrop in which his characters find fault or get ground up in (i.e., you never get the sense that Bowles is blaming the cultures themselves for the destruction of his characters, typically they are responsible, but it really isn't anybody's 'fault' per se). This is multicultural literature at its best ...
I'm sure you see where I'm going.
:)
Anyway, I would like you to read the following story by Paul Bowles. It is called The Garden. You tell me, does this story demonstrate multiculturalism at its best?
A man who lived in a distant town in the southern country was working in his garden. Because he was poor his land was at the edge of the oasis. All in the afternoon he dug channels, and when the day was finished he went to the upper end of the garden and opened the gate that held back the water. And now the water ran in the channels to the beds of barley and the young pomegranate trees. The sky was red, and when the man saw the floor of his garden shining like jewels, he sat down on a stone to look at it. As he watched it, it grew brighter, and he thought: "There is no finer garden in the oasis."
A great happiness filled him, and he sat there a long time, and did not get home until very late. When he went into the house, his wife looked at him and saw the joy still in his eyes.
"He has found a treasure," she thought; but she said nothing.
When they sat face to face at the evening meal, the man was still remembering his garden, and it seemed to him now that he had known the happiness, never again would he be without it.
He was silent as he ate.
His wife too was silent. "He is thinking of the treasure," she said to herself. And she was angry, believing that he did not want to share his secret with her. The next morning she went to the house of an old woman and bought many herbs and powders from her. She took them home and passed several days mixing and cooking them, until she had made the medicine she wanted. Then at each meal she began to ut a little of the tseubeur into her husband's food.
It was not long before the man fell ill. For a time he went each day to his garden to work, but often when he got there, he was so weak that he could merely sit leaning against a palm tree. He had a sharp sound in his ears, and he could not follow his thoughts as they came to him. In spite of this, each day when the sun went down and he saw his garden shining red in its light, he was happy. And when he got home at night his wife could see that there was joy in his eyes.
"He has been counting the treasure," she thought, and she began to go secretly to the garden to watch him from behind the trees. When she saw that merely sat looking at the ground, she went back to the old woman and told her about it.
"You must hurry and make him talk, before he forgets where he has hidden the treasure," said the old woman.
That night the wife put a great amount of tseubeur into his food, and when they were drinking tea afterward she began to say sweet words to him. The man only smiled. She tried for a long time to make him speak, but he merely shrugged his shoulders and made motions with his hands.
The next morning while he was still asleep, she went back to the old woman and told her that the man could no longer speak.
"You have given him too much," the old woman said. "He will never tell you his secret now. The only thing for you to do is to go away quickly, before he dies."
The woman ran home. Her husband lay on the mat with his mouth open. She packed her clothing, and left the town that mornng.
For three days the man lay in a deep sleep. The fourth day when he awoke, it was as if he made a voyage to the other side of the world. He was very hungry, but all he could find in the house was a piece of dry bread. When he had eaten that, he walked to his garden at the edge of the oasis and picked many figs. Then he sat down and ate them. In his mind there was no thught of his wife, because he had forgotten her. When a neighbor came by and called to him, he answered politely, as if speaking to a stranger, and the neighbor went away perplexed.
Little by little the man grew healthy once more. He worked each day in the garden. When dusk came, after watching the sunset and the red water, he would go home and cook his dinner and sleep. He had no friends, because although men spoke to him, he did not know who they were, and he only smiled and nodded to them. Then the people in the town began to notice that he no longer went to the mosque to pray. They spoke about him among themselves, and one evening the imam went to the man's house to talk with him.
As they sat there, the Imam listened for sound of the man's wife in the house. Out of courtesy he could not mention her, but he was thinking about her and asking himself where she might be. He went away from the house full of doubts.
The man went on living his life. But the people of the town now talked of little else. They whispiered that he had killled his wife, and many of them wanted to go together and search the house for her remains. The imam spoke against this idea, saying that he would go and talk again with the man. And this timehe went all the way to the garden at the edge of the oasis, and found him there working happily with the plants and the trees. He watched him for a while, and then he walked closer and spoke a few words with him.
It was late in the afternoon. The sun was sinking in the west, and the water on the ground began to be red. Presently the man said to the Imam: "The garden is beautiful."
"Beautiful or not beautiful," said the Imam, "you should be giving thanks to Allah for allowing you to have it."
"Allah?" said the man. "Who is that? I have never heard of him. I made this garden myself. I dug every channel and planted every tree, and no one helped me. I have no debts to anyone."
The Imam had turned pale. He flung out his arm and struck the man very hard in the face. Then he went quickly out of the garden.
The man stood with his hand to his cheek. "He has gone mad," he thought, as the Imam walked away.
That night the people spoke together in the Mosque. They decided that the man could no longer live in their town. Early the next morning a great crowd of men, with the Imam going at the head of it, went out into the oasis, on its way to the man's garden.
The small boys ran ahead oof the men, and got there long before them. They hid in the bushes, and as the man worked they began to throw stones and shout insults at him. He paid no attention to them. Then a stone hit him in the back of his head and he jumped up quickly. As they ran away, one of them fell, and the man caught him. He tried to hold him still so he could ask him: "Why are you throwing stones at me?" But the boy only screamed and struggled.
And the townspeople, who were on their way, heard the screaming, and they came running to the garden. They pulled the boy away from him and began to strike the man with hoes and sickles.
When they had destroyed him, they left him there with his head lying in one of the channels, and went back to the town, giving thanks to Allah that the boy was safe.
Little by little the trees died, and very soon the garden was gone.
Ok, this may be one of the most self-indulgent and, seemingly, irrelevant posts I have ever written, but go with me on this, ok?
My ten year old daughter came to me tonight and said, "Dad, I want you to write an article about two Paris Hilton videos I saw on the internet."
Now understand, I and my wife attempt to monitor everything our kids view on TV and the internet, but, as is true with all parents, we are not with them 24 hours a day, and they see things of which we would not necessarily approve.
At that point, you just have to decide to discuss the things they have seen, and try to provide some moral context. Additionally, I am a big believer that one's children learn more from the behavior of their parents, than they do from the input they get from peer pressure, and other outside sources.
That is not to say that I am not concerned.
However, it is almost impossible to hide the true sickness of the world from your children.
So, here's the thing, as is true with many young girls, my daughter is fascinated by people like Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie, Lindsay Lohan, and Britney Spears.
I have attempted to explain, in as delicate terms as possible that these girls are all troubled, sad, and desperate. What's more, they are a danger to themselves and others, and you all know what I mean.
So, here's the videoes my daughter wanted me to write about. She thinks they are funny, and in a way, they are. But, in a way, they are tragic and sad.
Check this out:
Here's what my daughter said to me: "Dad, did you see how much they spent? $112,000."
And, then she began to sing the words of the accompanying song, "Jealously, it's an evil thing."
And, I said, "That's right."
And then, she said she wanted me to see this video:
Only an adult could truly understand the implications of that cartoon. My daughter's focus was on the fact that Paris said, "I'm still breaking in this nose."
She thought that was very funny. She asked me what Paris meant by that, and I told her it meant that Paris had gotten a nose job, because she thought the nose God gave her was ugly.
That Simpson's cartoon really says it all, doesn't it?
Sometimes, comedy is more brilliant than tragedy, even though it is, often, not appreciated as such.
When my Dad was 72, he had a pretty severe stroke. He landed in a rehab hospital without the use of the left side of his body.
It was a sad thing to watch, but here's a funny little story that came out of it which will give you an idea of the kind of man he was.
Now, imagine him sitting on a table, with almost no clothing on, and a Filipino nurse (you'll see why the fact that she was Filipino matters to the point of the story soon enough, this has nothing to do with race) is assessing his cognitive abilities.
My Dad is sitting there, almost helpless, almost naked, he can barely sit at all, because he has no control over the left side of his body, and the left side of his face is completely slack, so he is slurring his speech.
I'm sure he felt completely and utterly humiliated.
The Filipino nurse starts asking him a bunch of questions:
Sir, what is your name?
When were you born?
How old are you?
What are your children's name's?
Etc.
All normal stuff.
But, my Dad hated being asked stupid questions.
So, when one of the questions came up, he got his revenge. The question was, "Sir, who was Adolf Hitler?"
And, here was my Dad's answer:
"Adolf Hitler was a painter and a lamp-shade designer."
I fell of my chair laughing.
The Filipino nurse, not having been educated in America, had no idea of what the fuck my Dad was talking about, and so she started to try to explain to him that Hitler had actually been the leader of Nazi Germany during World War II.
Thing is, my Dad personally fought against the Nazis in WWII.
I had to explain to the nurse that this was my Dad's sense of humor. And, that he was trying to tell her that his mind was intact by showing her that he knew more than her.
I love my friend Michael. Thanks to him for reminding me of this important verse from our Lord's Word:
Ecclesiastes 3
A Time for Everything 1There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven-- 2A time to give birth and a time to die; A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted. 3 Atime to kill and a time to heal; A time to tear down and a time to build up. 4A time to weep and a time to laugh; A time to mourn and a time to dance. 5 A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones; A time to embrace and a time to shun embracing. 6 A time to search and a time to give up as lost; A time to keep and a time to throw away. 7 A time to tear apart and a time to sew together; A time to be silent and a time to speak. 8 A time to love and a time to hate; A time for war and a time for peace.
You know, the more I think about this stuff, I think I'm going to also have to write about stuff that happened in the 80's and the 90's. Originally, I thought I could limit it to just the period of 1962-1977.
In my opinion, that is when the disintegration of our culture happened. However, part of what needs to be dealt with, in my opinion is what the result was.
Check this out:
I will eventually write about the time my Dad told me why he gave up fighting with my mother, and about why he eventualy decided to completely cede his will to my mother, and renege on his obligations to me as a father.
It is a sad story, and I want to get to it in due course.
In my opinion, most of this problem we face, this disintegration, has to do with "Women's Liberation."
Now, here's the thing; I am a believer that women ought to be able to do what they want with their lives, but the pendulum swung too far.
The Feminist Movement ended up emasculating men.
I'll tell you something funny and embarrassing. When my wife and I had kids, she said to me,
"I need you to start acting like more of a man,"
and I had no idea what the fuck she was talking about.
:)
I learned over time.
It actually came rather naturally, but it was the first time in my life that I had ever even given the subject any thought, for Christ's sake.
That's why I believe this story is important. We are a whole generation of boys unprepared to be men.
That's why Pacifism has such a grip over our society.
Now, watch this video. Listen to the words of the singer very carefuly, as he tells the story of the father he did not have, and of how his mother spoke of that father.
Son, she said, have I got a little story for you What you thought was your daddy was nothin but a... While you were sittin home alone at age thirteen Your real daddy was dyin, sorry you didnt see him, but Im glad we talked...
Oh i, oh, Im still alive Hey, i, i, oh, Im still alive Hey i, oh, Im still alive Hey...oh...
Oh really? Is he really "still alive"? Look at the pain on his face as he sings those words.
Now, check out the second verse:
Oh, she walks slowly, across a young mans room She said Im ready...for you I cant remember anything to this very day cept the look, the look... Oh, you know where, now I cant see, I just stare...
I, Im still alive Hey i, but, Im still alive
As best as i can tell, he is talking there about his first sexual experience, and of how he felt completely unprepared for it because he was not a man ...
Do I need to say anything more, my friends?
Now, now, check this out. Listen to the conclusion of the song:
Is something wrong, she said Well of course there is Youre still alive, she said Oh, and do I deserve to be? Is that the question And if so...if so...who answers...who answers?
Who answers? God Answers.
But, who among our generation knows that they can turn to God for the Answer?
And, how easy is it to accept that God loves you, when you have been emotionally obliterated from the beginning of your life?
I Believe That There Is a Place In This Universe Where Everything That Everyone Has Ever Done Which They Did Out Of Love Has Been Turned Into A Golden Monument Of Their Beautiful Deed And I Believe Though It Is A "Monument" It, Itself, Lives And Breathes (In Other Words, I Believe That "Monument" Is A Living Breathing Being) I Believe Heaven Is Going To Be A Place Which Is So Far Beyond Our Imagining We Will Be Shocked By The Love And Forgiveness Of Our God!
I love my friend Michael Travis. Thanks to him for sending this to me. It is the Byrds performing "Hey Mr. Tambourine Man" along with Bob Dylan (the writer of the song.) I think one of the important things to note here is that David Crosby is among the perfomers.
David Crosby is, himself capable of Bone Chilling Brilliance.
When my friends and I were about 15-17 years old, we were a bunch of complete nerds. We all played rock n' roll music, but we were considered complete outcasts.
It was actually very funny to us.
We basically just sat around and laughed at how stupid everyone else was for not "getting us."
I know that sounds arrogant, but what the fuck.
Anyway, we had this one friend named Shane who was one of the most incredible guitar players I have ever heard in my life. Shane was a genius (which is a word it may sound like I throw around too casually, but whatever ... - I'm telling you the guy could play like Randy Rhoades meets Vinnie Campbell meets Robert Fripp meets Lightning Hopkins, when he was only fifteen years old).
So, here was perhaps the funniest thing about Shane. He was a desperate caffeine addict.
Because he was so young, he was an addict who had no access to a car. So here's what would happen. Shane would drink the largest Cokes he could find. And, he would drink them constantly, and anywhere he could find them.
He drank so much Coca Cola (it had to be Coca Cola, not Pepsi) that he we constantly had to stop whatever we were doing so he could take a piss.
He pissed like a River.
So, we decided that we were going to call large Cokes, "Rivers."
(I bet that when you read the title of this post you never had any idea that that was coming, did you?)
:)
Now, here's the thing. Shane was such a connoisseur of Coca Cola that he had determined which fast food outlets made "good" Coca Cola mixes, and which one's did not.
I know, I know, this story is too hard to be believed, isn't it?
Shane would call us up early in the morning (Imagine this, I'm sixteen with my piece of shit station wagon - that got like nine fucking miles a gallon - that I had bought because I had to hall around my band equipment - and I'm fucking insane tired because I played a gig the night before) and he would say to me, "Uhm, could you take me to get a "River"?)
So, here's a guy asking me to drive the five fucking miles over to his house, because he doesn't have a car, and it's 7:00 in the fucking morning, and he's in the throes of a sad and desperate caffeine addiction, and he needs me to take him to get a "River."
So, I would have mercy on him and do it.
Now, sometimes, I had other shit to do too. By "other shit", I mean stuff like, you know, go to school, go to work, go to the library to study, etc.
So, in other words, I wasn't just going to take Shane to his favorite fast food outlet to get his favorite Coca Cola mix ...
No!
I was going to take him to the fast food outlet that was on the way to wherever I had to go.
Now, Shane's least favorite fast food outlet for Coca Cola mix was Del Taco. I can't say I blamed him. Truthfully, back in the seventies, Del Taco's Coca Cola Mix tasted like someone had imbued it with strychnine or something. It would hurt my stomach.
However, if Del Taco was the only option, well then, it was the only option.
But, if I were to take Shane to Del Taco to get him his "River" then he would get very, very upset with me, and he would sit in the back seat of my car, sucking on his straw, and getting ever more pissed off with every swallow of that acrid liquid.
He would eventually start complaining and cursing at me for having subjected him to such a shitty Coca Cola fix.
Now, understand, I was not the only person he would do this to. As I said, Shane was a genius guitar player, so there were an awful lot of young guys like me who were willing to put up with his strange behavior and abuse.
However, one can only take such a level of absolutely ridiculous and stupid abuse for just so long. We had to get back at him somehow. So, here's what we did:
We had another friend (another guy who was considered an incredible nerd), who was a computer programming guy. His name was Randy.
So, we called up Randy and we told him we wanted to design a video game about Shane called "Take Me To The River."
The object of the game was to get enough money for gas, so you could go pick up Shane in your car, and take him to get a "River."
However, that was not the end of it.
Once, you got the money for gas, you then had to drive over to Shane's house, pick him up, get him into the car (while in the throes of his caffeine addiction and resultant crankiness - with him in the back going, "Uhm, god damn it, I hate this ... I hate that ...), and take him to buy a "River."
In the game we designed, one would win points for whether they were able to accomplish the feat of pleasing Shane by taking him to a fast food outlet which he considered to produce a decent Coca Cola mix.
The highest number of points you could get were for if you were able to find a 7-11. The second highest number of points would be rewarded for McDonald's.
However, and this was the death blow of the video game, if you happened to only be able to find a Del Taco, and if that is where you took Shane for his desperately needed "River", then you would, likely, have to pull the car over to the side of the road several minutes later for him to throw up in the gutter.
The New CUANAS: What The Hell Happened? There Must Have Been Some Sort Of Split
A friend, who has been on the road, and therefore without internet access much of the time, wrote to me this morning and said:
I can't wait till I get the chance to read your new & improved CUANAS posts now. Your childhood is becoming like a puzzle. Because look how you always paint your later childhood as troubled, but really, here's a clue that your early childhood was great - your family was willing to indulge your coin collecting hobby and actually create a whole trip around you.
(He's referring to something I told him personally which was that, when I was eight, I was able to persuade my parents to drive from California to Colorado to go visit the Denver Mint, because I had a fascination with the minting of coins.)
Maybe it's like a tragedy - so much promise, but then there was a fall/split.
My reply is:
Yeah actually, that's a very well-defined way to explain it. My parents loved me very much, and they were told from a very early age that I was a "extremely gifted" and that they ought to try to help me along with that. And they tried, and tried.
They knew, for instance that my coin collecting hobby had more to do with history than the coins themselves, because I used to go on and on about Abraham Lincoln, and George Washington, and Thomas Jefferson and the various guys on the coins.
But, I was also fascinated about the way the coins were minted. (I was also fascinated by the beauty in the design of the coins, and the flaws in them.)
By the way, the whole trip wasn't planned around me. We didn't drive to Colorado to go to the Denver Mint.
Instead, what happened is, we were driving to Pennsylvania to see family. Ordinarily, back in those days, a family would have gone on Route 66 which, as I remember it (cuz we did it before) takes you through Arizona, and a bunch of other deserty places.
So, because I insisted, my parents chose the Colorado Route, and we went to the Denver Mint.
You are right that my parents loved me very much, and that there was a breakdown, at a certain point, in my family, and my childhood went from being happy, to being very sad, and hard to deal with.
I don't want to feel sorry for myself (too much) ...
:)
but I do believe that what happened in my family, in terms of the breakdown, mirrored much of society in the 70's.
I remember watching the news and TV shows and seeing things that were happening in the real world, and being portrayed in fictional movies, and sitcoms like All In The Family, and thinking to myself, "Look, that's us, there's my family."
My wife is a great woman, and an incredible support to me. Not only that, but her family supports me, and believes in what I am doing because they have had direct personal experience with the problem of Islamofascism when they lived in the Phillipines.
You would not believe the extent to which the men of my wife's family support me! I am not going to go into it specifically.
However, I will attempt to tell you what my relationship with my wife is like.
Here are some lyrics from a Bob Dylan song called Buckets of Rain. These words are the kinds (of kind) of words my beautiful wife whispers to me when we are alone:
Buckets of rain Buckets of tears Got all them buckets comin' out of my ears. Buckets of moonbeams in my hand, I got all the love, honey baby, You can stand.
I been meek And hard like an oak I seen pretty people disappear like smoke. Friends will arrive, friends will disappear, If you want me, honey baby, I'll be here.
Life is sad Life is a bust All ya can do is do what you must. You do what you must do and ya do it well, I'll do it for you, honey baby, Can't you tell?
Congratulations, Barry Bonds! I Love You! You Are The Greatest Player Ever To Play The Game Of Baseball!
I grew up in Los Angeles. I am a Dodger fan, but I am no dummy. I am not a myopic Dodger fan.
We Dodger fans are supposed to hate the Giants.
Barry Bonds is a San Francisco Giant.
But, I have watched him with admiration for years. There, in my opinion, has never been anyone like him in any sport.
My biggest sports hero of all-time is Wilt Chamberlain. But, I believe Bonds exceeds even the great Wilt Chamberlain.
It makes me very angry that he is the object of scorn.
It is all a bunch of bullshit. I'm not saying the man did not take steroids. I have no idea if he did. My inclination is he did.
However, I have never seen a baseball player as dedicated, and dialed in, and intense, as he is.
Greatness is a thing to revered, not reviled. Our generation ought to be ashamed of itself for the way it has treated Barry Bonds.
I believe history will bear me out on this.
Check back in thrity years.
Now, let's watch him up close. In other words, the next is not a fan video, but is instead a real video. No one could get a pitch by this guy when he was at his peak!
Do you see that?
The man knows what he is doing. He sees a baseball like no one has ever seen a baseball before.
When I was eleven years old, I forced my parents to sit down and watch Henry Aaron break Babe Ruth's record. I told them they had to do so because it was a "historic moment" as I put it.
You must understand, my parents were not, at all, big fans of black people. They did not want to participate in their young son's silliness.
I remember that moment so clearly.
I took out my Kodak Instamatic camera, and took a picture of the Television screen as Aaron hit the homerun. I did not understand that the flashbulb would darken out the screen, so when I got the photos developed, I was incredibly disappointed.
However, of course, the memory will forever be with me.
The New CUANAS: Here Is a Work of "Fiction" By Me - It Is Called "This Beauty Is Written Within Me"
I've always considered myself to be a "spiritual" person. What exactly I mean by that, I am not sure. I guess I mean, it seems to me I have a "spirit" and I am aware of it. But, I never really entertained the idea that my spirit connected to anything, except nature, and the odd woman.
I mean there were times earlier in my life, when I would meet a woman and it was as if a door opened in my soul. Kind of like those dreams you have where you're walking through your house, and you find rooms you didn't know were there. That's what it would be like. I'd meet a woman and I would find other rooms, more ornately adorned and frangrant places inside myself.
And when I would make love to a woman who opened these new rooms, I would feel as if she reached in to them and helped to decorate them with herself. I wasn't clear about it, though. It seemed as if, maybe, these new rooms in my soul were her rooms. Maybe they weren't rooms in my soul at all. Maybe they were the private, but infinite, amphitheatres of her heart.
Certainly, some women inspired in me a feeling of openess, within myself, which was larger than the spaces I had previously known myself to encompass. I feel as if I, Screaming Memes, live in a small room with a window to an infinite view, a study, within which, one can read many books which look out into the sky. So, I have an infinite feeling within me, but I feel confined personally, if that makes sense.
When I say "infinite amphitheatre" for instance, I remember, literally, with one woman, of whom I was particularly fond, I felt as if I had enlarged exponentially. One time I was with her and it felt like I was dancing with her on the peak of a hill with a valley below, a 360 view of valleys and green hills and mountains.
Now, it could have just been the marijuana, but that was the image I got. Truth is, we were just talking, alone in a room, and I was holding her close.
I'm trying to be honest with myself here. I remember a time, when I was younger, when I felt these moments of profound peace. I called them "spiritual" experiences then, but I didn't give any thought to where they came from. These experiences I have had here in Maui the past few days have inspired a calmness and a contemplation which I find difficult to achieve in the frenetic environment of the city, as I'm sure you can tell.
I haven't felt like this for a long time. I really don't know what to think.
But, I feel as if I'm coming to some sort of clearing, like stepping out of a thick forest into, well, I don't know.
I can say this. There was a feeling of destiny, or foreordination, about the experiences I have had. But, here's the really strange thing. There was also a feeling of deja vu, like I had experienced all of this before. No, not even just experienced, but that I had participated in creation in some way. I don't know how to explain this.
Certainly, I know that the beach, and the mountains of Maui, are beyond my scope to imagine, let alone create. That is laughable. I am, absolutely, awed by their beauty, but I feel as if I have sat, somewhere, with someone, before, and had it all explained to me. That's what I mean by foreordination.
I feel as if this beauty is written in me.
Now, I know I'm not being specific about anything here. I'm talking about the essence of my experience. I'm being abstract.
Truthfully, emotonally, it's hard for me to say that, when I was out walking with my friend Ngude the other day, I was moved, almost to tears, just by looking at one large, veined, impossibly green leaf, which hung down from a tree, at a delicate and, somehow perfect angle, right in my path. It's hard to explain how it seemed so right to me. So excellent, and deserving of a loving, almost sexual adoration. But it's true. I looked at the web of it's veins. The liquid sheen of it, belying it's more sublte textures; it's fingerprint. A leaf I would have just thought to be in my way, on another day, if say, I were walking in Central Park
.Or, how do I say that the constant roar of a waterfall, we found hidden in a little cove, gave off a massive sense of stillness? How do I explain that I felt pinned, or rather struck immovable, by silence, while all raged furiously around me? And yet I was still fully under control of my will. I looked at the waterfall, and moved my hand up in front of my face, just to see if I could move. I could, but it was as if the stillness was a living being, born inside me, and once again, the deja vu.
These are very disjointed thoughts, perhaps. I'm sorry if I'm not making any sense to you. I'm trying to make these things make sense to me.
As I wrote yesterday, my family went through a period of approximately three years (when I was 11-13 year old, when we almost fell apart. Much of this was due to my mother and her severe dislike of my Grandmother.
Honestly, I could not figure out what it was that my Mom hated so much about my Grandma. She seemed like an innocuous old bitty to me. She mostly sat in her bedroom, read the Bible, and said Grandma-type stuff when she was walking around the house.
Now, the thing is, as I had to do in my post yesterday, in order to explain the history of the Disintegration that I witnessed when I was a child, and in order to put it into the context of the history of 1963-1977, I think I need to almost immediately tell you about my Mom's family.
This story is something else. You almost aren't going to believe me.
My Mom's family was among the wealthiest families, if not the most wealthy family, in the town she was raised in.
The town they were from was NAMED AFTER HER FAMILY.
Her father was the Mayor. He was also the Pharmacist, and a big landowner. I remember going back to visit when I was eight. The house was awesome. And, it was on a plot of land that I would estimate to have been at least five or six acres. And, this was long after they had sold off most of their property. It was quite a beautiful place.
But, all did not go well for my Mom's family. As was true for my Dad and his Father and his Uncle, my Mother's Father (my Grandfather) died when my Mom was very young. She was six. That would have been 1931.
In other words, both of my parent's fathers died right at the outset of the Depression.
Her family was large. There were seven children. Because the family was so large, my Mom's Dad dealt with his children by spending one night a week with each of them. Each night it was another one of the children's turn to sit on Dad's lap in his study with him.
My mother's Father died of a massive heart attack one evening, as he walked into the house. That was on the night it was my Mother's turn to spend the evening on her Dad's lap.
When my mother told me this story (I must have been seven), it was very clear to me that she had never gotten over that sad fact. She felt cheated. Not by her father, but by God. My Mom and her family were, actually, very religious people. They were Lutherans, and my Mom would never curse God for her destiny, but you can see the look on a person's face, and I think you all know what I mean here.
There is a sense in which my Mother has looked back at her history, and has turned, like Lot's wife, into a Pillar of Salt.
Weird thing is, then, I had to grow up watching the result of that.
I watched as my mother would repeatedly go off to the Emergency Room, and to Doctors with various perceived illnesses which the Doctors couldn't figure out.
My Mom was a kind of hypochondriac, but at the same time, she was always believed in a Holistic approach to medicine. Consequently, she would not take any of the Medication which was offered to her.
That's probably a good thing, because for the most part, her Doctors would recommend that 60's and 70's panacea; the "Tranquilizer."
If my Mom had listened to her Doctors, she would have probably become a drug addict like so many other Mom's were back in those days.
So, I gotta admire the decisions my Mom made. At the same time, I recognized that, like my Dad, the problems that she was going through were not physical. I truly do believe that both my parents were victims of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. In other words, their maladies, their stresses, their insecurities were the result of the mental damage caused by the lives they had been saddled with.
I remember my Mother sitting up in bed with me late at night, talking and talking, and telling me that sometimes she just had to back away from all the stress, and the only thing that she could do to make her feel better was to return to her roots; to go to Church and listen to the hymns. (Her mother had been the Church organist and a music teacher).
She said, often, she could not even comprehend the words of the Pastor, because her mind was in too much of a frazzle, but she could always find something which would give her solace.
My mother started talking to me like this when I was a very young boy. I would estimate that I eight or nine when my Mom started discussing such things with me.
I know now that that is unhealthy, but of course, as a young boy, I loved my Mother and I suffered for her. I truly felt bad for her.
Now I know, she believed she couldn't trust her husband. Truth is, I don't think she trusted men. I think something happened to her that caused her to begin to believe that men were mean.
As I got older, she exiled my Dad from his own family.
He eventually built a shack in the backyard, and sat out there smoking and watching TV, and avoiding the family.
At the time, I thought that was strange. Now that I am older, it seems even stranger, but I actually understand what was going on, and I forgive him for it.
I will talk more about this subject later. I want to stick to the subject of my Mother in this post.
Now, here's the thing, think about it, why would my Mom talk to me late at night about her personal feelings and insecurities?
Why?
The answer is, and this is why I say it was a sick relationship, because SHE MADE ME HER HUSBAND.
In other words, at the age of approximately eight or nine years old, I began to take on the emotional duties and responsibilites of being a husband to my own, mentally-troubled and sick mother.
And somehow, because I really was a rather brilliant little kid, I was up to it. I could talk to her, and I could settle her down, and I could make her feel better about herself, and her place in life, and that gave me gratification.
There is a sense in which I truly believe this experience has made me a stronger person, and even a better husband.
But, there is a sense in which I believe it truly caused me to gradually aquire many of the same problems my parents struggled with.
Anyway, at this point, you might be wondering, why is it that I think that my story actually has any relevance to our current political situation in Western Civilization?
Well, here's the reason my friends. I believe it is an example of the breakdown of authority; of respect for authority, which begins with the respect a child needs to have for his or her parents.
As I said yesterday in my post about my Dad, my Mother really tried to do the best job she could. However, she had problems, and those problems are visited upon the third and fourth generation. Sadly, and as much as I attempt for this not to be true, some of these problems are going to be inherited by my kids. Because I suffer from them myself.
Now, getting back to the breakdown of authority, my parents were WWII generation people. Their formative years were the Depression and WWII.
There is a reason why the men and women of that era ended up parenting the "Baby-Boomer/Hippie Generation, which has so destroyed our beautiful Western Civilization.
In my opinion, from having watched my parents go through what they went through, I believe they had been so overwhelmed by the reality of their formative years that their entire goal was simply to make my life easier on me, than it had been on me.
They were a combination of distant (unattainable/unvailable) and allowing. They tried to give me everything I wanted. They did not want me to be denied all the things which were so sadly denied to them. But, no one should get everything they want.
My parents basically allowed me to run amok from the time I was very young.
It did not help them that I was a kind of intellectual prodigy who could basically con them and outsmart them at every turn.
And then, of course, they fell apart, as I have been alluding to, in the years between 1974-1976.
Oh my god, what a fuckin' life I have had.
I'm sorry this is such a long story to unfold. You're gonna see what I mean, as the story does truly unfold.
This is from the movie Joe Vs. The Volcano. Joe is abandoned at sea on a raft, and he is facing death.
I am so glad that YouTube has this up, so that I get to share it with you all. This is one of the most beautiful scenes in the history of American-filmaking.
Notice that Joe says, "I forgot how Big ..." and then he never completes the sentence.
There is a very good reason that Tom Hanks, who started out his career as a goofy comedian, became an important actor.
He truly is a genius, and this scene, along with the filmaker's direction, is proves it.
New CUANAS: Beginning To Explain The Disintegration
When I was 11 years old, my Grandmother moved from Pennsylvania to California and came to live with my family.
She was my Dad's mother.
I loved my Grandmother. I didn't realize at the time that my mother basically hated my Grandmother.
My Grandmother was a very nice old lady, but she was imperious about her son, and my father was, in many ways, subservient to her, and to everyone else as well.
My Dad was a tough man. He served in Morocco and Sicily in World War II. Some of the greatest memories of my life are when I was seven and my Dad showed me an old chest he had (I still have it) where he had stored his Army uniform. I remember being very impressed that he had ascended to the level of Seargeant, and he had multiple medals, and bars displayed across the chest and shoulders of the uniform.
But, for all that, my father was basically subservient to women.
The reason he was this way is because he had a very hard childhood. His father died at the outset of the Depression. His Dad died of alcohol poisoning. His Dad, and his uncle went out one night, during Prohibition, and they drank some bathtub Gin, and it killed my Grandfather.
When I asked my Dad how his Dad died (I was seven or eight at the time) he told me, I will tell you when you are older.
When he finally told me, it revealed everything I neeeded to know about my Dad.
Here is what happened, to be very specificL (Notice that I started this post by talking about my Grandmother, and I am gradually regressing in time back generations. It can not be helped when you are talking about family lineage. The sins of the father are visited upon the next three or four generations. That's what the Bible says, and I believe that that is true.)
My father's father and his brother were both policemen, and they went out and got drunk, and the next thing they knew, my fahter's father was dead.
That was it.
My father, when he finally told me the story of his father's death, told me that, after wacthing his brother die, his Uncle would sit in front of the bathroom mirror and scream at himself, "You are a horrible person. I hate you. You deserve to die."
And, surely, he did.
That was my Dad's life by the time he was eleven years old.
Imagine that.
When my Dad was fourteen, and all the men of the family had died, my father, (this would have been the mid-1930's) had to quit school and go to work to support the family.
My Dad was an intelligent man who never had the opportunity to even go to High School.
Consequently, when he got older, he chose to make safe choices. He worked in a Union job for the government, and he established great benefits for himself, and provided for his family the best way he could imagine.
But, he always believed that he was inferior and not up to the challenges that life was putting in front of him.
No surprise there, when you consider what he had to deal with in his early life.
We have a term for this now; it's called Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome. My father, I believe, suffered from that. However, at the same time, I must admit, I only very rarely saw him lose his cool, and when he died (in 2000) everyone at his funeral talked about what a gentleman he was.
Because he really was.
He was a very good man, who had a hard life, but he did everything he could to provide, as best as he knew how, for his family.
So, getting back to the beginning of this post, when my Grandmother moved in with us, when I was 11 years old, because my mother hated her, it was a tremendous stress on our family.
I remember wacthing my Dad, who was fifty-something years old at the time, grow a big-old handlebar mustache, and long-hair, almost like a hippie. I have a photograph I took of my father when I was twelve where he looked like a character out of Pulp Fiction.
Meanwhile, my mother sank into a depression the likes of which I have never seen in anyone else.
My parents would scream at each other, and at me, and my family lived in complete chaos for about three years straight.
When I was 12-13 years old, I would, literally, say "Bye" to my parents, and not come home for days, and it was as if they didn't even notice I was gone.
I know I am giving you an impressionistic version of the history of my family. If I were to try to explain it in Bas Relief detail, it would be overwhelming for you.
I will slowly unfold the whole thing.
There is much more to the story then I am even letting on now.
Here's the point: All of that happened in the years of 1975-1977. I believe my life is a mirror of the times. I was born in 1963. What signifigance does that have? Well, if you look at how the "Baby Boomer Generation" is divided from the "Generation X, 1963 is the dividing line.
I am, in my opinion, right on the cusp of all the changes that fucked up our society. Over the next few months I am going to attempt to explain what I mean by that by unraveling the story of my life. I have had a very, very strange life.
You will be entertained. Of that I can almost guarantee you.
Now, here's the thing, in my opinion, if you look at the years between 1963-1977, you will see everything that went wrong with America. I was a Philosophy major in College, so I understand that societal and cultural changes emanate first from ideas. However, there is a specific time when those ideas take effect, and I believe my early, formative years were, indeed, the years when America changed for the worse, and we have been living with it ever since.
Now, here's the reason I started this post by talking about my Grandmother. When she moved in, she gave me one of the most important gifts any human being has ever given me.
She gave me my first Bible.
It was what you call a "Red-Letter Edition" King James Translation.
Christians will know what that means. It means that the Bible she gave me was in flowery, almost Shakespearesque language, and all the words of Jesus were in red, while all the rest of the Bible was in black.
In addition to giving me the Bible, my Grandmother said something important to me. She said, "When I am going through very trying times, I read the Psalms. You will find compfort there."
When I was twelve that made no sense to me. Now, it is very obvious what she meant.
Man, life is very, very strange. I have a very, very good memory, and when I think back on the path my life has taken, I see that it is almost as if God did, indeed, carry me almost every step of the way.
I am going to attempt to make that clear in the next few months.
If I am able to do what I intend to do, then I will explain how our beautiful Western Civilization has gotten into the incredible mess we are in.
If I fail, well, then you will see me fall off the high-wire and you will all be able to sing Send In The Clowns, because that's what they used to do in the circus when a performer fell and died during the course of the show.
I am no longer, or rarely, going to write about war and anti-Semitism.
Instead, I am going to write about my personal experiences in life.
The reason I have made this decision is because I have found that I have very little support from the people who are most important to me.
This does not mean that I believe my cause is unworthy.
Instead, I believe my friends are not ready to understand where I am coming from.
The ultimate desolation for me came from one of my best friends in the world. I will leave HER nameless, but she is among the several indivduals with whom I started this organization.
She said to me that she thought I was doing what I am doing out of ego.
That is completely fucking ridiculous.
I am sorry be angry.
But, I have spent four years of my life - a life which was previously spent thinking about poetry and music and art - thinking about hatred.
I hate what I do!
I can't tell you how much I hate it.
I want to stop.
However, someone needs to do this work.
I am not, biologically, cut out for this work, and if I don't stop, I feel like I will have some severe trouble.
I have responsibilities.
Anyone in this world who has responsibility will understand what I mean.
I have decided that I will start writing about the history of my emotional life. I am a human being who occupies a very interesting niche that lies in between the WWII Generation and the Hippie Generation.
Not to mention, I remember very, very far back into my life.
I remember things, very clearly, from when I was three years old.
I have realized that our country went wrong between the years of 1962-1977.
These are the formative years of my life.
I am going to start writing about that exclusively.
In other words, this blog is going to become something more similar to Dr. Sanity. I am going to write about the psychological development, and rationality, of Western Civilization.
This will be an experiment. We'll see how it works.
Skateboarder Survives Forty-Foot Fall In Competition
I am a surfer, and an ex-skateboarder. I admire men who lay it all on the line.
If you surf the web, you will see why I believe that skateboarding is among the most "extreme" and brave sports in the world. Men literally, and I have known them personally, get their balls crushed, competing in this sport.
I, personally, was never such a daredevil.
Check out this article, and try to imagine yourself, getting up and walking away from this.
You want to tell me America does not have the balls of past generations?
Bullshit.
Here are our warriors.
Let us wake them up!
LOS ANGELES (AP) - The slam of the skateboarder's body against the ramp caused a collective shudder among X Games spectators and had Web video watchers gasping Friday morning. Jake Brown fell flailing and helpless for about 40 feet on the skateboard big air mega ramp during his fifth and final run Thursday night.
Brown bruised his lung and liver and remained in the intensive care unit at California Hospital Medical Center on Friday night, X Games officials said.
"He's in stable condition," hospital spokeswoman Katreena Salgado said.
After pulling off a difficult 720 over the ramp's 70-foot gap, he launched up the adjacent quarterpipe and immediately lost control. Plunging face first, his legs pedaling wildly, Brown turned over in the air and landed on his tailbone, with his head and limbs hitting soon after. He slid limply down the last few feet of ramp and lay motionless for nearly five minutes. The crack echoed into box seats at the top of the Staples Center.
Fans and fellow competitors worried Brown could be paralyzed or worse, and Bob Burnquist, the only competitor with a run remaining, said he thought seriously about just letting Brown, who was in first place, have the gold.
When Brown finally showed signs of stirring, the tension broke. Five minutes later, he walked away.
Vert skaters typically don't wear pads on their lower back and tailbone, but in the super-risky Big Air event many wear gear similar to body armor.
I don't tend to agree with Hal Lindsey about everything he says, but I think his words are worth considering. From WND:
It's hard to imagine how much America – and the world – has changed in just my lifetime. I was born at the beginning of the Depression. The United States was only a second-rate power until I was a young teenager. It emerged from World War II as a world power. By the time I was in my 20s, America was an undisputed superpower.
During the Cold War years, the world was essentially divided between two superpowers – The Soviet Union and the USA. I witnessed America rise from secondary power to become the greatest superpower on earth when the Soviet Union crumbled under the weight of its failed economic system.
Concurrently, I watched America's power decline from within. I witnessed the growing influence of socialist, liberal, secular humanist professors in our major universities during the 12 years I worked with college students. This influence spread as their students carried these ideas into careers in the media and politics.
As America drifted further and further from God, it embraced this godless ideology. The impact of this change soon became evident. Though we led the world in military technology and power, we've come to the point where the last war in which we won a decisive victory was the invasion of Grenada in 1983.
Today, we are debating whether or not to desert Iraq and let terrorists take it over as a major power base. It's stunning to contemplate that anyone could witness America travel from the peak of power to the precipice of destruction in a single lifetime.
Alvin Toffler saw this phenomenon developing. This was the basis of his 1970 best-seller "Future Shock." Toffler defines future shock as "the shattering stress and disorientation that we induce in individuals by subjecting them to too much change in too short a time." Toffler predicted, "Millions of ordinary, psychologically normal people will face an abrupt collision with the future."
We live in much greater stress and anxiety because of the "exponential rate of change" that is accelerating in our world. The world into which I was born ceased to exist a long time ago. But the change was gradual enough to allow me time to adjust. The world into which people were born in the year 2000 is already disappearing. It will not exist by 2012.
Just try to figure what the impact of the following facts will be. There are 3,000 new books published every single day. We've gone from information overload to information explosion. More new information will be generated this year than in the previous five thousand years.
The technical knowledge explosion is governed by Moore's Law, which says computers will get twice as smart every 18 to 24 months. It takes four years to get a technical degree. By the time a student graduates, his education is virtually obsolete.
The prophet Daniel was given visions of the world as it would exist in the days leading to the Second Coming of Christ. The Apostle John was time-traveled forward to be an actual eyewitness of the final days of this age. Unfortunately, both men also suffered from the same communication difficulties. There were no words in their vocabularies to describe what they witnessed.
How could a man of the first century A.D. who has never seen a machine describe the technical marvels of the 21st century? John was told to write about what he saw. I think he did an inspired job.
Today, Daniel and Revelation are among the most discussed and debated books within the whole canon of Scripture. More expositions have been written in the past 10 years focusing on Daniel and Revelation than probably any other books in the Bible. It's as if the words of these books were sealed up until the time appointed.
Even 60 years ago, most of what Daniel predicted here didn't make sense. These things certainly did not make sense to the generations prior to the 20th century. Daniel, directly taught by Heaven's highest angel, Michael, said as much. Daniel asked the archangel, "As for me, I heard but could not understand; so I said, 'My lord, what will be the outcome of these events?'"
Note very carefully the archangel Michael's reply, "Go your way, Daniel, for these words are concealed and sealed up until the end time. Many will be purged, purified and refined, but the wicked will act wickedly; and none of the wicked will understand, but those who have insight will understand."
This was the second time Michael told Daniel that the words were to be sealed until the time of the last days generation to whom they were addressed. The archangel concludes with special instructions to Daniel: "But as for you, Daniel, conceal – or encrypt – these words and seal up the book until the time of the end; many will go [travel] back and forth, and knowledge will increase."
Knowledge has greatly increased. And as we've seen will increase even more. Also, just as predicted in this verse, the limitations of time and space to travel have been exponentially decreased.
This has unlocked the encrypted prophetic messages that were intended for this generation. Current events have unlocked them further. All of these things point to the fact that the Lord Jesus Christ is coming very soon.
Don't put off your decision any longer. Time is rapidly running out for you to get ready to meet Him when He comes. Just recognize you are a sinner, and accept the gift of pardon He purchased for you in His own blood. He is coming, and soon.
Whether you are ready or not.
I want to add one thing to Mr. Lindsey's words. He talks about how the books of Daniel and Revelation didn't make sense until the past thrity years or so. People have been trying to interpret them forever, but there are verses in these books which simply were beyond reason as they were described.
For instance, when it said that all the people of the world would be given a mark, on their hand or forehead, with which they would buy and sell. How could such a thing happen in the pre-computer age?
Ok, now here is a verse from Revelation which I want you to consider:
... and I saw the souls of them that were beheaded for the witness of Jesus, and for the word of God, and which had not worshipped the beast, neither his image, neither had received his mark upon their foreheads, or in their hands; and they lived and reigned with Christ a thousand years. (Revelation 20:4)
Just in case you are not aware of this fact, this prophecy is already coming true in places like the Phillipines, Malaysia, Thailand, and Saudi Arabia. The news media does not report on it much, but those are the stories I have picked up over time.
I suspect the same thing is happening in Nigeria, the Sudan, Iran, Afghanistan, and Iraq.
Hmm, what do you know? It was foretold thousands of years ago that we would, in the Last Days of Earth, face an enemy which would "behead" its enemies. The book of Revelation describes events which sound like, chemical, biological and nuclear attacks, but it also warns that we will be beheaded.
