The
Battle Between Good and Evil, All Personal Like
Do
you still remember that subatomic freeze
hint:
not involuntary
When
you took what you hoped was not your last breath
On
your knees while frightening things occurred to you?
You
prayed for the stupid to surrender, dead and demonic though they be,
And
for dead men to be pleased,
And
for your tarnished soul to somehow become shiny again in an instant.
The
problem with the stupid is stupidity.
Of
course they wouldn't surrender.
Someone
taught them a gun in the mouth was delicious,
And
so we come to the dead man.
Even
beyond the grave you sought paternal approval.
Though
distracted by his frieze
(what
I have decided to call His creation in its entirety when examined in
a frozen moment.
I
also decided to name it. I hope I don't get in trouble for this.
Detention is quite harsh.
“The
Perfection of all Things in their Ultimate, Unveiled Form”)
Sleep
panic crept out of the nuclei.
Hint:
that freeze was involuntary
Weakness
left the mind, shift ended, determination's turn.
Creatures
from the Unspeakable Dimension hate... Hate
All
the good people of Earth.
An
heroic weapon must be crafted to defeat them:
A
set of treatises that correct readers' past perceptions
Regarding
the Holy Trinity, this author's beliefs and, as fans,
What
they really should consider the best way to act and the best things
to believe.
It
shall be named!
Christianity
for Ultra Dummies
[I
am the original ultra dummy. Nya nya nya nya nya, called it.
(Somewhere
a loudspeaker: “Sure, you were the first.”)]
Formalities:
1.
Jesus Christ died for our sins. His Dad gets super mad if anyone
takes that lightly, like by calling it a formality. Even He gets
angry if that fact is disbelieved or ignored.
2.
The Ten Commandments may have been handed down in the Old Testament,
but as it turns out they continue to hold weight after the arrival of
the New Testament. “An eye for an eye” went out the window.
Walk right through the door with unpaid for goods, though, and losing
an eye may still come of it. [Goes without saying, right? lol]
3.
One can generally screw up, often and hugely, and still things will
work out, at the time. Eventually, however, all the little details
become huge, and all the big issues become life or death or larger.
The best thing to do is do everything right the first time, and
continue to do everything right until the end of all your time. If
that is impossible due to a bad case of derpis maximus, believe it
will become an issue of: “Do it right this time, or this is your
last time to do anything.”
4.
Heaven is light on cash. Nothing is free, except salvation, and even
it starts to come with a cost if you need it too much. The cost
could be your assistance (the nice person way), or the cost could
be... well, I wouldn't know.
5.
Fifth, and finally, lip service will get one damned (translation: the
ultimate ban). Sooner or later one will either be sincere in one's
heart, or one's heart will be gone. Congratulations to all the
people this would never apply to. We are the best sort of people,
after all.
The
Holier Than Thou Column
…
in
which I attempt to give advice about things I am absolutely not
qualified to give advice about, because I think it is the right
thing to do. Luckily I am so unqualified the advice I try to give
may be about things nobody has ever thought about giving advice about
before, and so may accidentally become useful. Sadly, being
unqualified and
an idiot means this section will likely be very short.
- Never trust yourself in religious dilemmas. Always seek the input of an actual member of the clergy if something is really bothering you. That's the correct advice. Nobody ever gave me that advice. The closest thing I ever got was, “Talk to your parents.” I never took that advice. Any problem I had that would have required me talking to my parents would likely have been troublesome enough to get shuffled off to the other parent... if I had ever taken the initial advice, which, again, I didn't. So, let's just skip the dumb part and say, “If your head is really all messed up, please talk to your priest about it.” This may not apply to protestant religions. I am not sure.
- Never leave the stove on when you leave the house. I am qualified to say that, at least.
End
column.
The
Immaculate Misconception
The
bad blood between protestants and Catholics began in the old world.
Sadly a lot of real hatred came out of it. Hatred carries with it an
express elevator to evil. It is a very powerful emotion, and is very
difficult to vanquish. So not surprisingly there are still swirls
and eddies of ill feeling here in the new world between protestants
and Catholics. I have never encountered a Christian here in America
who would fault somebody for the brand of their faith, but I have met
protestants who were taught some strange things about Catholics.
The
most common weirdness I have found involves the virgin Mary. There
are those who believe Catholics worship the virgin Mary. Praying to
the mother of our savior does not constitute worship, especially
considering those prayers are only a portion of the prayers that
Catholics offer up to the heavens. I find it odd that there are
those who would not include Mary in their prayers, but I have
theories as to why.
First
and foremost, male hegemony becomes very pronounced in some
protestant denominations. Women are very nearly seen as chattel in a
number of faiths. I'm very much on record as an advocate for the
rights of women, so my thoughts about treating them as chattel could
not be clearer. To bring the point back home, some protestants find
prayers to Mary offensive. To categorize those prayers as worship is
basically a derogatory way of expressing either: their feelings of
superiority for refusing to bend a knee even to the mother of God
because she was a woman, or a subconsciously perceived threat to
masculine superiority, or simple misogyny.
Sometimes
Catholics also offer up a prayer to a saint. Saints deal with very
specific issues. Again, this is not worship. It is a prayer to God
with the intercession of a holy being who specializes in the subject
of the prayer. If a mother prays for her child to make a safe
journey, then as a protestant she makes the plea to God and is done.
As a Catholic she would also pray to God, but she might also pray for
Saint Christopher to speak to God on her behalf, and do everything in
his power as a Saint, because she wants all the help she can get for
her prayers to help her child arrive safely. We all worship God, but
some of us reach out to those who surround God and ask for help from
them as well. It's as simple as that.
It
is a very old tradition to light a flame for our ancestors, and for
the living. The Chinese have been doing this for thousands of years.
So have Catholics. For this practice to receive criticism indicates
a high level of ignorance, and that sort of prejudice really does not
deserve much consideration. There is no cure for stupid.
Educated
minds see through cultural prejudices and misconceptions. In a
better world, the educated help those who have not had the good
fortune to have learned to be equinanimous. With humility and
respect it is possible to change the minds of even the stubborn. My
writing is hardly a vehicle for such change. Unfortunately I have
spent far too much time baiting the bulls for the kill to try to
gentle them down at this point. But you, as the reader, have the
luxury of being able to go through life respectful and intelligent,
to make the world a better place, a place free of prejudice.
One
Day, During Catechism
I
grew up, as a child, two blocks from St. Thomas Moore elementary
school in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Even from that distance I could
hear the screaming and gnashing of teeth as young children were
flayed alive and lowered into hot oil, er, I mean the sound of happy
playing youngsters. Catholic private school has always had a
reputation for instilling discipline in students, but I have never
met anyone who complained about it. Apparently it doesn't take very
much disciplining for a student to never step out of line again.
Either that or I just hung around with goodie goodies growing up
(likely).
I
wanted to attend that school. My grandparents wanted me to attend
that school. I believe my father too wanted me to attend that
school. As luck would have it, my mother fought her way out of her
years long drug and alcohol fueled stupor just in time to take me
away from my paternal family and place me in public school. She did
it through the courts, but I will write my tirade about that at
another time. This is about the difference between Catholic school
and public school.
Ah,
public school, where my first language (Spanish) was forbidden, and
where fat kids with speech impediments like me were the favorite
punching bag toy of every fit boy during recesses. Children aren't
supposed to go to hell. That's funny, because I could have sworn the
devil was outside every recess enjoying the shit out of himself.
We
played games. Soccer was the game where I tried to run up and down
the field, but mostly got stuck breathlessly stumbling back and forth
around midfield. The other boys were careful to keep me near the
action, otherwise they could not run up and kick me in the legs one
after another, every pass. Football was even more fun. Those flags
were mostly just a guideline, it seemed. There were a million
reasons I wound up on the ground that had nothing to do with
bullying. I have to hand it to those kids. They could think on
their feet.
When
my paternal grandmother, Wilma Day, found out about all the fun
“sports” a tactical nuclear bomb went off in the principal's
office, which leads to another exciting story about hell. Some of
the boys got in trouble. I believe witnesses were called in,
because I did not tell on anyone, and yet the most egregious
offenders were identified. They did get in trouble. They did not
take it laying down.
One
day we all went out to recess. I had to go to the bathroom in the
middle, so I went back inside, tinkled, and went back outside. Not
long after “class” resumed I was called to the office. Someone
had smeared feces all over the walls of the bathroom I went to during
recess. The janitor saw me go in the bathroom and leave, and had
seen nobody else. I was accused of the dirty deed. The principal
eviscerated me in the office. Nothing I said in my defense made any
difference. I was summarily paddled and my mother called (her full
custody meant my father was not involved). The napalm and 50 cal gun
turrets didn't make it to the school until I managed to talk to Wilma
on the phone that afternoon. All that accomplished was a principal
whose face had lost several layers of skin, but you get the picture.
God
and a kindhearted teacher named Mrs. Moore ended my stay there in the
abyss. My grades had been abysmal. That's because they weren't
teaching me anything. I was reading at college level in the fourth
grade. My teacher recognized my absolute boredom and asked that I be
tested for special programs. I was removed from the reach of the
bullies and savages and placed in the Gifted and Talented Program.
My poor sister was not so lucky. Though she was just as intelligent
as I, she was slightly dyslexic and could never have aced all the
tests to be placed in the program.
Meanwhile,
in Catholic school, children were taught at the level that fit their
intelligence. Bullying may have existed, but those students had to
contend with their guilt in the eyes of God and all their ancestors
in heaven. They were being taught the finer points of the beauty of
God's great plan alongside reading the classics, advanced mathematics
and science. Yes, Catholic schools teach science. Most of the
Luddite hatred of science comes from the protestant sector. Recesses
did not involve human punching bags, and circle jerks were something
Catholic school boys would have found absolutely disgusting, and
rightfully so.
I
did not have the good fortune to attend Catholic school. I had been
plucked from a happy, spiritually clean environment and imprisoned in
a home with a Baptist seminary washout for a stepfather. I was
forced to attend Baptist church on Sundays, where I learned about
true ignorance, bigotry, racism and hatred. I believe they hoped to
make me one of their own, but they were too late. I had become too
intelligent, and had learned too much about the beauty of true
spirituality before the Baptists got me.
I
did get baptized, but I had already been Christened. The members of
the church all wanted to know if I felt the power of the holy ghost
when it happened. I didn't talk much, same as now. I'm certain I
mumbled something that made the questions stop.
By
contrast, the first time I received the holy communion, years later,
I felt as though I had been shot between the eyes by a diamond of
pure energy. The sensation was staggering. I have never been a
religious person. It was not a feeling I conjured into existence
with zealous hopefulness. It existed all by itself.
To
end this long and pointed story, I feel somewhat deprived because I
was not able to attend catechism. I did not receive a formal
Catholic religious education. I love my mother too much to blame
her, because she meant well. The law and the courts, on the other
hand, I blame with every fiber of my being. My hatred of the law...
well, that's another story.
An
Obscure Take on Testaments
The
difference between life before Jesus and life after Jesus' birth has
always been presented to me as ideological. The shift in religious
values and doctrines always seems to occupy the language of sermons
and discussions and debate when dealing with the difference between
the Old and New Testaments of the Bible. There is a widely ignored
aspect of the shift in reality that has never been brought before me
by any man educated in the word of God: The physical aspect.
Before
Jesus sacrificed Himself for humanity the pantheons of good and evil
sometimes walked the earth in physical form. God approached Abraham
in physical form. There were numerous instances of angels
approaching humans in the flesh. Needless to say, the minions of
evil took physical form and strode the earth as well. As far as I
know there is no record of any of those wonderful entities or those
things
touching a human, as that has always been forbidden) but they weren't
apparitions. They could be seen and spoken with just as though they
were human. That made their power in the earthly realm exponentially
greater.
The
next time any of you have a vision or a nightmare, of good or of
evil, just consider this. If Jesus had not sacrificed Himself to
save us, then you would not have been able to use your mind to break
free from the experience. Instead of a frightening thing your mind
experienced, you would have been face to face with a tangible being.
Imagine
encountering the most dangerous murderer who ever lived and then
wanting to get away; then imagine the murderer could find you
anywhere, at any time, to speak with you if he/she so desired, and
not the police, but only a holy man could get rid of them. Now think
of who made that impossible. His name is Jesus Christ. If you have
it in you, then you should thank Him as often as you can. If you
don't, one day you may find the things I am writing about are not the
least bit imaginary.
Note:
I will be continuing this entry as a series.
Repent or Die