Sam Heath - samheath's Blog - Bakersfield.com

The Weedpatch Gazette

Tue, 22 Dec 2009 14:07:12 PST

“A Christmas Carol” is a wonderful story and one that enriches us, a story we are glad Dickens chose to write. The emphasis is on Scrooge learning to keep the Spirit of Christmas alive in his heart all year long. God’s Holy Spirit is not confined to the various interpretations and myths of the Nativity, nor is it confined to the particular labels people may choose to declare their belief system. The fact remains that without the historical Jesus and his impact on the world there would be no celebration of his nativity, and the world would be a poorer place without Christmas and those like Dickens that put the emphasis on what is of real importance in celebration of Christmas. The capacity for love and goodness was in Scrooge all along, but he had made bad choices that had all but erased this capacity from him. Scrooge was given a unique opportunity to change and took full advantage of it; with contrition and repentance he was “born anew.” Though Dickens had three spirits visit Scrooge there was really only one that counted; the Spirit of God that moved him to write the story.

The Bible is the most read and studied of any book ever written. The greatest scholars the world has ever produced have devoted their entire lives to the study of this unique book, and despite its weaknesses one cannot read it from cover to cover and fail to be impressed with its unique qualities. “When the legend becomes fact, print the legend” applies to the Bible as it does with all works derived from legends. Mythologies and legends are things that often enrich our lives; most of us want mysteries that enrich our lives and drive many like me to study the myths, legends, and mysteries in attempts to get at the facts upon which such things are founded. Philosophical speculation about these is only natural when science fails to provide sufficient answers and comes easily to those whose curiosity is not governed by either the tyranny of religion, culture, science, or politics.

The Creation story in Genesis I believe to be based on facts, though these facts have become obscured due to oral traditions and the passage of time. But such obscuring of facts is common to all stories whether about God or George Washington. However, this does not lessen my faith in God or attempts to get at the facts concerning the Creation Account or “The father of our country.” I believe there was a fallen Adam, a time when sin entered the world and caused the curse of God to fall upon humankind and blasted the earth; that the whole of Creation groans for redemption. I also believe everyone who loves is born of God, is in fact “redeemed,” but only within the context of sacrificial love that gives of itself without any sense of sacrifice; that seeks the welfare of loved ones before one’s own.

Though faulted by some claiming Dickens had not focused his story on Jesus, his detractors seemed not to notice his focus was properly directed at the spirit of Jesus; the Spirit of Christmas centering on the hope of sins blotted out by love and redemption and the goodness to be found among the children of God and the hope inspired by the Bible. But it is the love of God as shown me by loved ones, the Spirit of Christmas shown all year long and never stops loving that causes me to believe this love is the basis for my own redemption, the means of my salvation and hope of heaven.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Mon, 14 Dec 2009 15:50:30 PST

In “Gone With The Wind” when Rhett asks Scarlett if she had ever thought of marrying for fun she replies with a scornful sniff: “Fun for men you mean.” At a time when most women were in little better a case than Negro slaves and often treated by men as “chattel” rather than any kind of “equality” Scarlett had it correct. She didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy sex, but it was not with the freedom that men had to enjoy it including the keeping of mistresses. Then too, men didn’t have to worry about the monthly “curse” or the bloody, messy, painful, life-threatening business of childbearing.

The Bible has been my primary textbook from childhood on, and as I pursued other studies throughout my years in colleges and universities I learned how to speculate about biblical questions for which there are no ready answers. Sex is one such subject of speculation concerning The Fall. Jesus had it that in the hereafter there will be neither male nor female, but the children of God will be as the angels; so, no sex as we know it in the hereafter. But in the beginning Adam was looking for a companion; not sex. We are told that God made the Adam male and female, but their original creation into which God breathed His own Spirit of Life thereby making the Adam a living soul was unaware of being naked. When Adam could not find a suitable companion among the other creatures God made the decision that since it was not good for the man to be alone He created a suitable companion for the man from the very stock of Adam and he named her “woman” because unlike the other creatures God had made she was of a kind with Adam, “flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone.”

Perhaps the Garden and the Adam was an experiment based on a council of the sons of god as per the book of Job. They determined to make the Adam after their own image and likeness and were not subject to death until they had eaten of the forbidden fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil thereby losing their innocence. It seems this resulted in a physiological change in their bodies when each became aware of their nakedness and covered themselves out of shame. The physiological change also made them subject to disease, death, and decay and God forced them out of the Garden before they could eat of the Tree of Life.

When Jesus told Nicodemus you had to be born again to enter the kingdom of heaven he was referencing the faith, the wonder and joy of childhood in an environment where these are not threatened and before sex enters as a curse. And so I believe it will be in the hereafter. But as a result of their disobedience Eve was told by God that He would greatly increase her pain in childbirth and she would thereafter be subject to her husband. The earth would be cursed forcing Adam to make his living by the sweat of his brow.

It was only after The Fall that Adam and Eve had sex as we know it resulting in the birth of Cain who murdered his younger brother Able. So, I speculate that before The Fall Adam and Eve were as innocent children and any means of procreation would not have involved sex as we know it; but perhaps as the angels of heaven Jesus spoke of. The difference would be in how the Adam was created, and it is here where God must have had plans for children of His own based on His hopes for Adam and Eve distinct and apart from the angels and the sons of God that appeared before His throne in Job.

Jesus said we must become like little children before we can enter the kingdom of heaven. This means being born again, but not by some religious “decision” interpretation or definition. I speculate that when we die as children of God we enter the hereafter as “newborns.” We are told “All who love are born of God.” But the Bible clearly defines the kind of love that defines a child of God; it does not mean any form of so-called “love” that is perverted. It is a pure and sacrificial love that gives without any sense of sacrifice and seeks the welfare of those loved before one’s own welfare.

Some of us believe in the possibility of spiritual companionship that does not include sex but rather a compatibility of differences, something Adam and Eve must have enjoyed as companions before their disobedience caused the curse of God to come upon them. But it is obvious from Scripture and life that women are the prey of men; that men continue to hold authority over women, that men make wars and women suffer the worst of God’s curse even to the point of being considered “unclean” compared to men. The Bible has it this is due to Eve allowing herself to be deceived by the serpent. I speculate at length on this subject in my book “HEY GOD! What went wrong and when are You going to fix it.” It is far too deep a subject to treat with due justice in this short article. But since sex is such a preoccupation of humankind fraught with so much hatred and anger, complications and betrayal I thought it good to mention I don’t believe it will be a problem in heaven.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 16:39:49 PST

The last and all too brief conversation I had with Bob Powers here in the Kern River Valley happened to touch on the library in “Old Kernville.” There are few of us left here in the valley to recall that first excursion Mr. Wallace took us on to visit the small library, but I will never forget it. Next to exploring my forest fastness, sharing it with my companions of birds and animals, due to being immersed in good literature from earliest childhood I had a love of being surrounded by books; another world of exploration inviting me to take part that never failed of wonderful discoveries. However, it was appropriate one of the first books I chose to check out had to do with geology so I could better understand this part of the Sequoia National Forest I came to call “home.”

During a period of our young lives when teachers weren’t even real humans but more like paranormal beings that only appeared during school hours and mysteriously disappeared at the last bell of the school day to some peculiar ethereal and nether world of their own Mr. Wallace was an exception. That first year of Mr. Wallace in the valley, he immediately impressed all of us at Old Kernville Elementary with his good humor and earnest concern for our education. He also introduced some of us to one of the first TV sets in the valley, taking our class to his home to watch one of the games of the 1949 World Series.

During a period of valley history before the “Dam people” arrived to swell the numbers and Isabella had a population of 36 and Kernville 115 the cultural amenities were few, so our little library was a real godsend to us and Mr. Wallace made sure we made good use of it. But there was something else of genuine culture introduced to the valley at the time: A school band.

Mr. Swadburg was our music instructor and he made it possible for me to buy my clarinet, a genuine French Leblanc from Fred Gutcher’s Music Store in Bakersfield. I had dreamed of learning to play the clarinet from earliest memory, no doubt influenced by those old Benny Goodman movies. But there was magic in simply holding that magnificent, beautiful ebony and silver instrument in my hands; and to call it my own was a dream realized. Learning to play it, however, was quite something else.

Many of you doubtless have seen the film “The Music Man” with Robert Preston and Shirley Jones. And no doubt you got a kick out of Professor Howard Hill’s bamboozling the folks of River City with his “Think System” of learning to play a musical instrument. Well, I could have disabused the folks of River City in short order from my own experience.

As with knowledge, I quickly found out there was no “royal path” to learning to play the clarinet. It took hours of daily practice, hours of daily learning to read music and running scales endlessly. This was a lot of self discipline for any kid, but I was determined to master this beautiful instrument; I was determined to make beautiful music with it. And as President Coolidge pointed out, there is no substitute for perseverance.

Eventually our small band was able to make music, and our first public performance given at the Elementary School was very well attended. Everybody who could possibly come did so. I doubt any theatrical opening on Broadway enjoyed such a turn out, statistically speaking. And I doubt any performers were more equal to the task than we were at this debut of a real school band. Under Mr. Swadburg’s direction we made music; and it was beautiful music!

As with good literature, good music had always been a part of my life. My grandmother played piano marvelously and my mother had a wonderful collection of records of the most popular music of WWII, those terrific melodies and songs that continue to be played and sung today. But it wasn’t until after our performance at the school while grandad was driving us home that I learned something about the privilege I unconsciously enjoyed being raised by music lovers like my mother and grandparents. “You know son,” my grandfather said to me, “you practicing on that clarinet every day for hours nearly drove me crazy. But listening to you in that band tonight made it all worthwhile.”

Perhaps you can imagine how proud I was at grandad’s praise. It was seldom given, but when it was I knew it was earned. Only then did I realize, however, how much my grandparents sacrificed in order for me to make music. Those interminable hours of practice running scales, difficult as they were for me had to have been extremely difficult for my grandparents to endure without complaint.

But there was something else I learned along with learning to play the clarinet, something I carried with me into my career as a teacher. There are few things comparable to a child learning to play a musical instrument. The sense of achievement is enormous, the sense of self worth, of self esteem together with being able to make music is a lesson I wish were available to all children.

However, the music should be melodious, not a cacophony of noise with the pretense of “music.” As with good books, if children are introduced to good music in the home they will respond accordingly. It is a sad, if not tragic commentary about the times in which we live that both good books and good music are a rarity in too many homes across America, that the music programs in our schools are so undervalued. Yet the appreciation of good books and good music remain a valid judgment about a truly civilized society.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Sun, 06 Dec 2009 16:05:05 PST

I have no doubt it was the question of Hussein’s refusal to produce a legitimate birth certificate that caused Lou Dobbs and CNN to part company, and there had to be a reason for Hussein and Company believing they could dodge that bullet, which the circumstances of such secrecy mean to me it would prove he was not eligible for the office, since the real power of government is seen in the ability to hide the facts concerning wars and things like JFK and RFK. But when an obscure Negro politician with so many strikes against his ever becoming president rises to such a position there have to be sinister forces at work to bring such a thing to pass. When the media and Hollywood fawned over Hussein and made Sarah Palin the object of their most virulent hatred and attacks it was obvious to me Satan had made his choice of who would be president.

We read God hardened the heart of the Pharaoh of the Exodus, and despite the many plagues his heart continued to be hardened to the very end resulting in the spoiling of the Egyptians and their army being annihilated. I see Hussein in the role of that Pharaoh, his heart hardened and despite the plagues of God assaulting America he continues on a path of destruction, his heart hardened to hate Norman Rockwell’s America and in his madness seeking revenge, a revenge that clouds his mind as he pursues the path of destruction upon which he is intent.

Hitler came from virtual obscurity to such power he was worshipped by many, not all of them Germans. No one in the beginning would have foretold Stalin becoming the dictator of Russia. When you control the media, you have the power to control what people believe. But even our Freedom of the Press has been emasculated and now threatens our freedom as Americans as the hard questions are not asked of our government and those that do ask but never receive an answer only represent the illusion of such freedom of the press. This is the reason the hard questions about Hussein were ignored or glossed over as Satan blinded the eyes of so many and the truth about him beginning with that birth certificate never had a chance of being revealed.

Believers in God living in the End Time are supposed to be able to discern “the signs of the times.” There have been many false prophets in the past and they continue to ply their trade today; but the responsibility lies with the children of God to “try the spirits, whether they be of God.” Elijah ridiculed the false prophets of Baal and I continue to point out what Jesus said; that the real prophets of God do not wear soft clothing or live in kings’ palaces.

Jesus called Satan the “father of lies” but the meaning goes much deeper than most realize; what Jesus was referring to was Satan as the originator and propagandist of lies and liars that would be believed by those without faith in God. It is the Spirit of God within believers that prevents their being deceived by the Deceiver and his diabolical children. “Hollow as a politician’s promises” has its deserved origin in the fact that they lie to get elected and lie to stay elected. Hussein certainly personifies this “qualification” for office. In my opinion America will suffer economic collapse and we will become a nation of slaves to global masters, and in the irony of God’s justice a nation that countenanced the slavery of Negroes is led into slavery by a Negro, which reminds me in a way of Moses having been nurtured in Pharaoh’s court only to come back and bring Egypt to its knees.

The children of God know their battle is not against flesh and blood but spiritual wickedness in high places; but most in my opinion are ill-equipped to fight this battle. What the prophet is commissioned to do is to warn both the wicked and the righteous, the wicked to repent and turn to God and the righteous to gird up their loins to do battle against spiritual wickedness with the weapons and armor described in the sixth chapter of Ephesians, and the only weapon of offense being the “Sword of the Spirit which is the Word of God.”

I am not a Bible “literalist;” there are errors and contradictions in the Bible. But too much of it rings true to me as I read and study it, and I grant myself a wide latitude in speculating about many things in the Bible. This does not detract from my finding many truths of God, the “Word of God” in the Scriptures but I am not bound by any “tyranny of religion.” However, the prophecies of the End Time ring true to my heart and mind as I view the past and the present. America’s economic collapse as I see in the book of Revelation, the miraculous intervention of God in Israel becoming a modern nation and being seen by most as a threat to world peace, Islamic extremists may well launch nuclear weapons, which would certainly doom the world, drastic changes in climate with the potential for famine and disease, the plagues of Egypt seem only around the corner at this point in time.

I believe in angels and demons, I believe in God and I believe there is a Devil; but I also believe in a hereafter where I will be reunited with loved ones and friends and the circle will not be broken. But before I pass on I feel an obligation to express my thoughts and speculations on to others. Mine is a personal journey as is your own; the difference may be in the sharing of my journey with others by my writing of it along the way and the past few years putting it in published books; and as with all personal journals you may choose to read it or not, to take it seriously or not.

You may find yourself among those saying “All things continue as they have from the days of Noah.” But at no time in history has there been such a confluence of events including the nuclear threat that convinces me that we are indeed living in the End Time. There is a “great falling away” from faith in God going on and though Jesus took the Devil very seriously many claiming to be Christians do not. But then, not all the children of God wear the label of “Christian” nor do all the children of the Devil wear a label. However, we know which is which by their works.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 11:09:58 PST

A colleague of mine took his class on a field trip out into the desert. As he cautioned his students about the things to be wary of like scorpions and rattlesnakes he said to them: “Never put your hand under a bush like this” as he stuck his hand under a bush to emphasize what he was telling them; and wouldn’t you know that while demonstrating “Never do this” and then proceeding to do it he was bitten by a rattlesnake. His students were suitably impressed, as you can well imagine. I guess he missed the part of survival training where you are told rattlesnakes don’t always warn of their presence by shaking their tails. Fortunately for him it was a Sidewinder and not a Mojave Green, and the snake turned out to have only one fang. As it was, he and his class had to make a hasty end of the field trip and get him to a hospital. And since he didn’t die, he didn’t qualify for a Darwin Award.

I’ve probably killed over 200 rattlesnakes in my time and for me the only good one is a dead one. No one will ever change my mind about this; so please don’t try. As William Bendix would say, “My head is made up!” And this applies to the majority of people; there are certain things they are not going to change their minds about no matter what facts and apologetics are brought to bear. And since the MSM is controlled by dark forces, many make up their minds about things like global warming through what is propagandized rather than facts, and though the Internet allows us to browse in an attempt to get at the facts few have the time or take the trouble or are knowledgeable enough to sift through a voluminous amount of material in seeking the truth on many subjects.

I know the Bible and its history; and though I find myself alienated from most Christians because of granting wide latitude to the study and interpretation of Scripture in my own life it has freed me from what I came to call the “tyranny of religion.” But those that criticize the Bible should bear in mind that while the book has its weaknesses it also has its strengths; so much so that it has had more influence for good than any other book ever written, though Satan knows the dangers of the book and has been successful in eliminating it from the schools and elsewhere in the name of “separation of church and state.” But here we are, coming upon another Christmas and there is no way for the time being for Satan to demolish this date in celebration of the birth of Jesus though this may yet happen.

http://www.propertyrightsresearch.org/quotesframes.htm

Did you know that 53 of the 56 signers of the Declaration of Independence were orthodox, deeply committed Christians? The other three all believed in the Bible as the divine truth, the God of scripture, and His personal intervention.

It was the Continental Congress that formed the American Bible Society. Immediately after creating the Declaration of Independence, the Continental Congress voted to purchase and import 20,000 copies of scripture for the people of this nation.

Was Patrick Henry a Christian? The following year, 1776, he wrote this '"It cannot be emphasized too strongly or too often that this great Nation was founded not by religionists, but by Christians; not on religions, but on the Gospel of Jesus Christ. For that reason alone, people of other faiths have been afforded freedom of worship here."'

Consider these words that Thomas Jefferson wrote on the front of his well-worn Bible: '"I am a real Christian, that is to say, a disciple of the doctrines of Jesus. I have little doubt that our whole country will soon be rallied to the unity of our Creator. "' He was also the chairman of the American Bible Society, which he considered his highest and most important role.

On July 4, 1821, President Adams said, '"The highest glory of the American Revolution was this: it connected in one indissoluble bond the principles of civil government with the principles of Christianity."'

Calvin Coolidge, our 30th President of the United States reaffirmed this truth when he wrote, '"The foundations of our society and our government rest so much on the teachings of the Bible that it would be difficult to support them if faith in these teachings would cease to be practically universal in our country."'

In 1782, the United States Congress voted this resolution: '"The Congress of the United States recommends and approves the Holy Bible for use in all schools."'

William Holmes McGuffey is the author of the McGuffey Reader, which was used for over 100 years in our public schools with over 125 million copies sold until it was stopped in 1963. President Lincoln called him the '"Schoolmaster of the Nation."'

Listen to these words of Mr. McGuffey: '"The Christian religion is the religion of our country. From it are derived our notions on the character of God, on the great moral Governor of the universe. On its doctrines are founded the peculiarities of our free institutions. From no source has the author drawn more conspicuously than from the sacred Scriptures. From all these extracts from the Bible I make no apology."'

Of the first 108 universities founded in America, 106 were distinctly Christian, including the first, Harvard University, chartered in 1636. In the original Harvard Student Handbook, rule number 1 was that students seeking entrance must know Latin and Greek so that they could study the scriptures: '"Let every student be plainly instructed and earnestly pressed to consider well, the main end of his life and studies is, to know God and Jesus Christ, which is eternal life, John 17:3; and therefore to lay Jesus Christ as the only foundation for our children to follow the moral principles of the Ten Commandments. James Madison, the primary author of the Constitution of the United States, said this: '"We have staked the whole future of our new nation not upon the power of government; far from it. We have staked the future of all our political constitutions upon the capacity of each of ourselves to govern ourselves according to the moral principles of the Ten Commandments."'

The above quotations are no longer shared by teachers in our universities and their product schools; but they remain as part of our history as a nation though always under attack by servants of the Devil. The tragedy of the Founding Fathers refusing to abolish slavery by our Constitution for the sake of profits muted their original intent that America should be a Christian nation founded on the Bible; and while they made sure there would be no “Church of England” in America, a religion sanctioned by government it was not their intent that religious liberty was to include foreign religions like Islam. However, despite the noble attempts to keep the Bible America’s primary textbook the issue of slavery doomed such a thing resulting in Lincoln’s War, a war from which America never recovered and I continue to believe the seed of our nation’s eventual destruction was sown in slavery.

Most people today do not realize the depth of scholarship that has gone into Biblical studies, and many would be surprised browsing the libraries of Seminaries at the thousands of books on the subject and when circumstances permitted I once had some 5,000 such books in my personal library. But the many abuses of the Bible such as using it as a club to beat others into submission to their peculiar beliefs does not detract from its value; and no one can read it from cover to cover and fail to find a chord of God’s Spirit in great truths that strike a responding chord in their own heart.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Tue, 01 Dec 2009 14:40:55 PST

It’s the “Spirit of Christmas” I so very much enjoy. Just as there is the Spirit of God that quickens the life of His children and moves through the Bible causing parts of it to ring so true to their hearts, so there is a special moving of God’s Spirit while commemorating the birth of Jesus and the message of angels proclaiming “Peace on earth to those of good will.”

I’m grateful for the various interpretations of “Scrooge” along with many of the other Christmas programs though this does start early with the motivation of making money through advertising during this special season of the year and I don’t believe Jesus would appreciate this part. But, I do believe he would like some of the Christmas programs and music.

There is something wonderful about this celebration surrounding the birth of Jesus; over the centuries it became increasingly popular in Christian nations and has long established itself as an institution most of us would not want to do without. As you study the origins of things like the Christmas tree and the marvelous decorations, Christmas cards, the many songs dedicated to Christmas it is a truly remarkable time of the year, something transcending the mere inventions of men.

Of course we can’t discount the role of Santa during the Christmas season; but if only he were real I could at least have the satisfaction of his putting a lump of coal in every politician’s Christmas stocking. But, alas, despite Francis Church and his letter to little Virginia there is no real Santa Claus; but no mythical figure has so captured our hearts and minds so well as the “Jolly Old Elf.” His greatest charm for me has always been the emphasis upon children Santa represents.

Church may well have been correct however in writing: “The most real things in the world are those that neither children or men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.”

Two of the most endearing qualities of a child are trust and imagination. They will believe in magic, they thrill to stories of fairies and enchanted lands. Christmas, Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, stories of birds and animals, enchanted islands and forests; these are the domain of childhood.

We don't forsake these things in adulthood. We continue to want our Merlin’s, Camelot’s, and enchanted glades. As parents, we enjoy making things like Santa with his elves and reindeer, that magical fairyland of the North Pole and letters to Santa real to our children. All too quickly we find ourselves adults and learn of the fantasies of childhood, but the intent of parents in wanting their children taught and exposed to the myths is the innocence of goodness.

Santa is the ultimate angel to a child. There isn't the slightest trace of evil connected to Santa; he could never do anything wrong or anything to hurt a child. Santa believes in children, in the innocence of childhood. Our desire, as adults, to believe in angels follows the same pattern. We grow into adulthood and have to leave the myth of Santa, but we desperately want to continue holding on to what Santa represents.

The Christmas season with the distinctive music and decorations, the buying of gifts, the celebration of the hope of peace on earth, is something none of us would want to lose. Singing Jingle Bells, Santa Claus is Coming to Town and reading 'Twas the Night Before Christmas celebrate the season. Children write letters to Santa and hang stockings with care and we watch A Christmas Carol, It's a Wonderful Life and Miracle on 34th Street. We have added The Grinch to the story of Scrooge, there is now a Charlie Brown Christmas, Frosty the Snowman, The Little Drummer Boy, Rudolph and so many more with all the innocence, charm and fantasy of childhood.

The story of the North Pole, Santa's home and the workshop of elves, the magic of Santa's being able to visit every home with a child in a single night, going down chimneys, his Ho, Ho, Ho, children leaving cookies and milk for him and, very important, Santa knows if you have been bad or good, naughty or nice. Believing in Santa is as natural to a child as faith and prayer. George Beverly Shea sings a beautiful song: If I Could Pray as a Child Again. How many of us, as adults, haven't wished for this?

There is no competition between Jesus and Santa; they are a complement to each other in their love of children, all the while remembering that without Jesus there would not be a Santa Claus. December 25^th became the day accepted as a celebration of the birth of Jesus, and we know Jesus loved children. For those that doubt God, that doubt the Spirit of God working in the lives of His children I hearken to the point Francis Church made to little Virginia: “The most real things in the world are those that neither children or men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.” And in the words of Jesus: “Eye has not seen nor ear heard, neither has entered into the hearts of men the things God has prepared for those that love him.” What a wonderful time of year in celebration of these things unseen and unseeable Jesus represents.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Thu, 26 Nov 2009 08:45:32 PST

With the announcement that the Large Hadron Collider has succeeded in a test run after several setbacks I can hardly wait for news of further developments and discoveries; perhaps some things that will enable “Ghost Hunters” to be less of poor theatrics and get the tools used in the film “Ghostbusters.” But I remain suspicious of why the Super Collider planned for America was scrapped by Congress. Did the global masters including those behind CERN serving Satan pulling the strings think, as I came to believe, that America would not remain a viable nation in the near future? Could these servants of Satan have foreseen America as That Great City Babylon as I believe it to be and chose what they considered to be a new world order calling the shots from Europe after the collapse of America as a world power?

When We the People are not even told the truth about JFK, RFK, 9/11 and such monumentally important events, when the truth of such things can be successfully hidden by our government from the world I can certainly believe it is possible Hussein is not an American citizen so why not search for a cause behind our slide to perdition? I’ve come to believe the leadership of America is sold out to Satan, that Hussein was handpicked from obscurity by global masters to be the point man in bringing about our collapse as a nation, reaping what was sown in the failure of our Founding Fathers to abolish slavery for the sake of profits. Whether or not, it is clearly impossible for America to avoid, as with “Mexifornia,” becoming a bankrupt nation. On paper, we are already there and like the first notice of foreclosure on a home the inexorable process of our “foreclosure” as a nation is well underway. When the collapse suddenly occurs, the merchants of the world will indeed weep and wail because their greatest customer for luxury items is no more and who will then buy their goods?

All the symptoms of a “national heart attack” are there but being ignored; and Hussein seems determined to bring on a national coronary by way of the dollar no longer able to sustain itself in a global economy. Many people believe this and are being huckstered by “gold merchants” on TV. But Hussein is only the hack obeying his global masters, who in turn get their orders from Satan. If as Newton believed was possible, the LHC may well provide the Philosopher’s Stone; now that would not make the news since such discoveries would be well hidden as with JFK, RFK, 9/11 and so on. The secret to immortality, or at least the means of sustaining life far beyond the normal, the ultimate weapon that would make nuclear weapons obsolete, all are things I speculate about when it comes to powerful and secretive people in the background of CERN and elsewhere.

At the present rate of consumption of natural resources this planet is reaching a crisis because of the overpopulation of unproductive mouths. Global masters understand this and I believe are orchestrating events in science including the raising and distribution of food to bring about a means of cutting that population down to a realistic level. One thing most would agree on is nations like China and Russia not going along with the fairytales being spun by Hussein and Gore concerning carbon emissions. These nations are not going to cut their own throats as Hussein seems to demand of America as he continues to act as though he is bent on revenge against Norman Rockwell’s America.

As a nation we are far removed from the beliefs of those Pilgrims celebrating their “Thanksgiving” or that of Norman Rockwell’s. As a nation we have forsaken God and the day is a caricature of its original intent. The list of what people are generally thankful for on this day has fallen to such a low because of the wickedness and corruption in our government and the resulting dismal and uncertain future we face as a nation that for many it only exists in some of the too-often smarmy films depicting various warm and fuzzy feel good fictions. But as a nation giving thanks to God on this particular day? I don’t think so. For those who come together in gratitude to God in the real spirit of this day, to you I say “Happy Thanksgiving.”

No truly good person wants power and authority over others; good people are generally given to wanting to live honestly and peaceably with others. However, the history of humankind has been one of unrelenting wars and still ongoing filled with atrocities of every kind. Few are God’s children according to Jesus; and if he was correct few will enter the kingdom of God; this means the vast majority of the world’s population is not going to make it.

Soon it will be Christmas and those of us using the salutation “Merry Christmas” ought to keep in mind that despite the history of the day that eventually was given to commemoration of the birth of Jesus the original Christmas message from angels was to proclaim “Peace on earth to those of good will.” But this peace proclaimed by angels remains the peace of God that only He can establish in the hearts of those few of good will, the children of God struggling to live peaceably in an evil world dominated by Satan.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Tue, 24 Nov 2009 13:08:49 PST

Not all churches are created equal; but I continue to say the real America may still be found in the rural churches throughout our nation. Sinclair Lewis was too intent on the subject of the hypocrites within fundamentalist churches that made a mockery of their professed beliefs; so it was that “Elmer Gantry” as with Robert Duvall’s “The Apostle” was weakened by neither ever being a real believer. Then too, John Steinbeck’s “Grapes of Wrath” suffered from his never really belonging to the class of people he attempted to portray in his book, though he did good service in pointing out many of the abuses the Dust Bowl migrants faced. I had the good fortune to have been born into and raised among the Dust Bowl migrants, being born in Weedpatch and shortly thereafter moving to my maternal grandparents’ place in Southeast Bakersfield.

It surprises some when an academic like me tells the stories of those days long past, to share the stories of poverty and hardship I learned firsthand from the Okies and Arkies of long ago. But as an academic I know the value of primary source material; especially by those that have lived what they write about. And so, I offer the following excerpt from my book “The Lord and the Weedpatcher” that says so much about those simple and honest folks I came to know and love, though they be too often demeaned by those that never lived the stories they tell:

In order to give the reader a fuller appreciation of the function of our little church, Faith Tabernacle, in Dust Bowl Era Little Oklahoma on the corner of Cottonwood and Padre in Bakersfield during the 30s and 40s, I will describe a typical service.

Call to worship was accomplished by ringing the bell Sunday morning. This was the only sound to be heard at this time and day in our little community. No lawns so no mowers. No loud radios (and no TV's of course). No cars so no traffic. Only, in summer the noise of flitting insects and birds and the occasional yap of some hound.

The congregation filtered in; the women in flour or grain sack dresses and straw hats, the children in the conventional overalls and mostly shoeless. The men tried to dress in Sunday-go-to-meeting attire of miscellaneous items, some with uncomfortable bow ties and, here and there, a white shirt might be seen. Folks tried to dress up the little girls but the boys, while reasonably clean, escaped such nonsense. We would begin with a few rousers like “Come and Dine” to warm up the audience. The cardboard fans donated by a mortuary in Bakersfield that grandad did business with would begin to flutter by now.

Bakersfield summers were hot and it didn't take much to work up a sweat among the faithful. Prayer requests were taken and testimonies given of what God had done for (or to) various people in the neighborhood. At prayer time, the Lord's favor was implored for all our boys overseas and His righteous judgment against the enemies of Democracy. After the people had prayed (we had no Amen corner, everybody had the liberty to interject Amen! and Hallelujah! as the spirit moved them) it was Show time! I do not mean to imply irreverence. We all took the service seriously. But, to us children it was definitely show time.

While we enjoyed the singing and Sunday school lessons very much, it was the grown-ups that could be counted on to gay-up the time something fierce. How we looked forward to the fun as people began to warm to grandad's preaching. My grandfather's face would contort with rage against the iniquitous Philistines and Pharisees. His voice boomed out like thunder as his fist pounded again and again on the old, wood pulpit. His whole body lurched in cadence with the words and seemed to help hurl them out like bullets at the helpless spectators in the pews.

Old lady Walker suddenly jumped to her feet, flang her arms toward heaven, threw her head back and with eyes closed began shouting in tongues. To my child’s ears she seemed to be spouting a kind of sound like our make-believe Indian talk. “O lalla lalla keba o notchaway, O lalla lalla keba o notchaway” she repeated over and over, her voice growing softer until she was finally slain by the spirit and slipped to the ground. Another old saint, Mrs. Hall, taking her cue, jumped to her feet and took off on “Helagumba, hellagumba, hellagumba, hellagumba” until she also was mowed down by this terrible force of heaven. I thought again for the umpteenth time that old lady Walker sure had it all over Mrs. Hall. After all, an entire sentence must be a greater accomplishment than one word. Also, old lady Walker had a certain way of falling which left her in a more decorous position than Mrs. Hall. We children took great notice of how each dear old saint fell and writhed and twitched not just their facility with grunts, yelling, jumping, tongue clicking and enthusiasm in general.

My grandfather would halt his thunderous barrage against all sorts of wickedness from bob-hair to hug-dancing each time the spirit moved on one of the saints. I always admired my grandfather's great sense of delicate timing. When the spirit moved he had sense enough not to interfere with such a terrifying power. No sooner had this dread force accomplished its work and felled its victim but grandad would pick up as though nothing had interrupted his discourse.

Up jumped Mrs. Young as though goosed forcefully and indiscreetly, “Geeda geeda lamasabathany, geeda geeda lamasabathany, geeda geeda lamasabathany” until the ambushing spirit polled her like an ox. This was one part we children really liked because Mrs. Young had the heft of a cord of wood. We often wondered how Mr. Young, who could have posed as the 90-pound weakling for Charles Atlas advertisements, controlled this pulchritudinous behemoth. And Mrs. Young had class. No twitching, groaning or moaning. After the performance, she just lay quiet with flecks of spittle on her hairy, upper lip. At the end of the service, there was the altar call. This was the opportunity for each member of the congregation to come to the front of the church and kneel and pray. If the spirit really moved, a real catharsis of sins, real and imagined, would be poured out with much crying and shouting. This was a treat for the children as we heard many things our parents would never say in front of us otherwise. Lest the reader misunderstand, the altar call was real in many cases. People often needed the gathering together to confess and pray for one another. Many wounds were healed in this fashion and fellowship restored.

On rare occasions, we would have a baptism. This was accomplished only during the summer because we had to make a day of it at the Jordan (otherwise known as the Kern River). Real baptism must be done by completely submerging the penitent in a real river. None of that sissy bathtub or Sprinkled Dandy stuff for Little Oklahoma believers. And, you wore your Sunday best, not baptismal robes. Grandad would remove his shoes and roll up his pants, but it was still Black suit, black bow tie and white shirt.

A picnic atmosphere was always a part of the ceremony and a great time would be had by all. If the congregation was not so small, I'm sure many a sinner would have gone back for seconds just for the fun of it. Fried chicken, rabbit, catfish and frog legs were plentiful as were pies and cakes. In all, with so much deep-fried, there was enough cholesterol to make a mortician smile.

We children would be occupied catching crawdads for the feast. The summer Mrs. Young was baptized was especially entertaining. She kept bobbing up like an elephantine cork and grandad had to have two of the deacons help him to get her under. At that, she proceeded to float downstream and it took nearly half the congregation to beach her.

My grandfather always dressed the part; black suit with white shirt and black bow tie. He was a large, raw-boned man, over six foot and about 200 pounds. He had a commanding presence and a thunderous voice. He had actually played a gambler in a silent movie made locally and he and my grandmother had done a stint in a circus, he as a Barker and my grandmother as the Fat Lady. Grandma played the piano marvelously and grandad loved to sing; and keeping time with a tambourine, his deep, loud and resonant voice overpowered us. Faith Tabernacle could always be counted on to make a truly joyous noise unto the Lord.

My grandmother’s piano playing and the spirited singing meant a lot to culturally starved Okies and Arkies and the success of the church. The church was truly a great social need-fulfilling thing as well as meeting the spiritual needs of the poor white trash, as they were known to the greater Bakersfield City dwellers. While it was true that the community was dirt poor and many were on the lam and had criminal records, there was no shame attached. We were all aware of the frailty of the law in understanding some of the injustices of extremity. Many were criminals for things like stealing food or material to put a makeshift roof on a shack.

But no deputy sheriff ever intruded into Little Oklahoma in those days. My grandad was sworn in as a Special Deputy, complete with uniform, Sam Brown, a Smith and Wesson .32-20 (peculiar caliber), clamshell breakaway holster, handcuffs and a copy of the California Penal Code. He, like Judge Roy Bean, became The Law and arbiter of justice in the community. His primary function was that of liaison with the powers in Bakersfield.

Grandad's preaching was dynamic. The format was to have my grandmother read from The Scriptures and when she came to a spot that hit my grandad right, he would take off. This was the “lining” format of our colonial ancestors and picked up by Negroes, primarily for the singing of hymns.

Grandad, as with so many others of similar background, had no formal training for his calling. But, like many that heeded the call, knew The Lord would give him the message. Now my grandfather tolerated exaggerated behavior on the part of the saints and expected them to have a good time in church and a certain flexibility was needed amid the shouts of hallelujah and amen in order for them to enjoy their religion. When one of the sisters would feel the moving of the spirit and jump up to speak in tongues, my grandfather would halt his thunderous barrage and wait for the fit to pass. He did not hold with most of this nonsense but had enough insight to understand the need of his constituents. When the spirit finally fled, grandad would resume his discourse as though nothing had happened.

While he looked askance at women speaking in the church (believing Paul's admonition that this was a shameful thing) he also knew that human nature and culture required outlets of expression. I suspect he also realized that it was a lot of fun for us children. Curiously, it was always the women that spoke in tongues, never the men. Years later I would read: “If the women in the church stopped speaking in tongues, the movement would soon cease to move!” But this was before the formal churches like the Roman Catholic and Anglicans got into the act and legitimized the gibberish, even giving it a good, solid Greek name; Glossalallia. Too bad Amy Simple wasn't around to cash in on that. But, Swaggart, Baker, et al. would make up for her and then some.

My grandfather's own conversion experience needs a little elaboration. It was supposed to have occurred during a tent meeting somewhere in the South. Being a real heller as a young man, he obviously presented one of those challenges that so inspire the fervent, holy pursuit of the godly. As he told the story, he went to the meeting with some other young bloods to heckle and enjoy the show. But one dear, old saint who recognized him decided the time was ripe for his call to repentance. So enthusiastic did she become under the influence of the spirit that she literally began to chase my grandfather around the meeting place shouting the imprecations of his lost condition and his need to call on the mercy of God for salvation. No fire-breathing dragon could have so consumed its prey as effectively.

The woman, aided by several who had joined in the chase, finally brought grandad to ground. Turning to face his tormenters, grandad said: “The Spirit suddenly took hold of me and rattled me good!” There was no doubt to any that such a Saul-like experience could betoken anything but a divine call to preach.

And it was thus that my grandfather was impelled on his colorful career in the Lord's army. Buying himself a Pharisee Bible (these are large Bibles, usually with thumb indexing, color plates, glossary, index, concordance, doctrinal notes, maps, short histories, biographies and pebble grained leather bindings weighing enough to tire any but the most energetic thumper and providing a not inconsiderable weapon should need arise) a Cruden's Concordance and equipping himself further with a few well-selected hell-fire and damnation verses, he, like so many others of similar background, was in the preaching business.

While my grandfather did not believe in Theology and might not even have heard the word, or use any commentaries, he had a pretty fair grasp of what was reasonable in religion and what was not and preached accordingly. A curious aberration was his refusing to take up a collection or to ever ask for money from the pulpit. His curious response when pressed on the issue was to reply: “God never made a beggar out of any man or His church.”

Grandad had built the little church on his own lot at the corner of Cottonwood and Padre. It was built, like our house, of material he had scrounged from various places. The bulk of the wood was from a wrecked boxcar at the rail yard, and he lined most of the inside with thin veneer coffin shipping crates as well as heavy cardboard and what was called “Beaverboard,” a cellulose insulation product painted white on one side.

The last couple of years we lived in Bakersfield, grandad acquired a PA system for the church. By attaching two large speakers outside, the entire neighborhood received the benefit of hearing sin denounced in the booming thunder of grandad's preaching. I'm sure the local sinners thought the terror of the heavens had descended upon them when they were first bombarded with this wrath and vengeance unleashed upon the ungodly.

No doubt the local sink of iniquity, a combination cuttin’ and shootin’ liquor and grocery store profited mightily. They must have, as they were the only ones to complain of this counter-point to their customers’ lively language and cultural pursuits.

At one time, he and grandma also had a little mom and pop grocery store (Faith Grocery) next door to the church. It fell victim to a fire, a not uncommon occurrence in our neighborhood. Our home, an architectural curiosity fronting Padre was as I said built of box car lumber, rail ties, coffin shipping crates and anything else substantial enough to use as building material. Like our neighbors, we made do with whatever came to hand. Along with the traditional tarpaper, you would find tin signs used as roofing material and cardboard for interior finish.

We were considered rich by our poorer neighbors because grandad had a steady job at the time with the post office, had a car and such a magnificent home. The beautiful chandelier in what we called the dining room helped support this accusation. There was always something incongruous about the crystal chandelier hanging from our cardboard and veneer coffin shipping crate covered ceiling. Other incongruities included the lovely French doors in our grandparents’ bedroom and living room and the marvelous tapestries hung on various walls. I understand tapestries were used in castles to ward off the chill. They undoubtedly served a like purpose in our home.

In the beginning, we had no electricity and had an outhouse. We boys discovered an interesting phenomenon once electricity came to Little Oklahoma. When you turned on the light in the kitchen, large roaches would be running like crazy all over the floor and disappear. If you waited a little while and turned the light back on, the loathsome bugs were back like magic. Indoor plumbing, like electricity, was slow in coming to the community. One of our more odoriferous chores as children was emptying the thundermugs of the accumulation of “night soil.” No job for the weak and would today be, doubtless, called “child abuse.”

Being a preacher, special deputy, and having a Federal job gave my grandad somewhat unusual status in the neighborhood. His California Penal Code book was always lying with his Bible and Cruden's Concordance. His Smith and Wesson with its breakaway, clamshell holster accounted for a hole in the ceiling of our cabin when we moved to the mining claim in Kernville.

I was practicing my “fast-draw” when I touched the trigger a might too much (it never occurred to me that doing this with live ammo might result in an embarrassing situation). There is something unique about the sound of a powerful handgun going off in a room. It certainly gets the attention of the occupants.

I wouldn't want you to get the impression that we did not live in a fine house in Little Oklahoma. Though it was built of salvaged boxcar lumber, coffin-shipping crates and the inside was finished with cardboard, it was, nonetheless, a great house compared with the neighbors'. Some simply dug a hole in the ground on arrival and covered it with whatever they could find. If it rained, they would just move the roof of tin or canvas and sit under it as a kind of lean-to until the storm passed and the hole was dry. Eventually some of them acquired tents or built tarpaper shacks with material gleaned from the rail yard and dump.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Sun, 22 Nov 2009 13:32:22 PST

What with Swine Flu and all the confusion surrounding government “reports” some old time precautions concerning hygiene should be taken very seriously, things like keeping your hands washed. Hearing this repeated over and over I’m reminded of the Biblical injunction “Touch not the unclean thing.” Among civilized nations personal hygiene is a multi-billion dollar industry and goes far beyond the ordinary precautions one needs to follow, and some radio programs I heard as a boy earned the title of “Soap Operas.”

Jesus came preaching the kingdom of God “for therefore am I sent.” And when asked directly concerning this kingdom, Jesus replied: “Behold, the kingdom of God is within you.” It is here where every child of God recognizes their parentage regardless of their system of belief. God’s children are scattered throughout the world and are not known by any label but by their works, the way they live while nurturing a tender conscience and their love for one another. They are not required to love the children of the Devil; but are required to resist the Evil One and his servants and “touch not the unclean thing,” and this means among other things not advocating for the perversion of homosexuality, an abomination to God and naturally revolting to sexually normal people. But if Hussein has his way, stating the truth with such freedom of speech we now enjoy though political correctness has intimidated and emasculated many may land one in prison. It is my opinion many are advocates of perversion simply to excuse the sins in their own lives.

Religions, among many other things are often hijacked to provide a cloak for the Devil; he is as much in the religion business as he is in government. Power and authority over others is what the Devil and his servants seek, and they are ruthless in the pursuit of this. Hatred for the children of God has always been part of the Devil’s program and in the End of the Age this will reach a crescendo as the attacks by the Devil, his children and servants intensify because the Devil knows his time is short; and like Hitler he plans a “scorched earth policy” for all of humankind.

Here in America our freedom of speech and press are being attacked; you no longer dare express a moral point of view but here comes the Devil and his servants to attack you. The media has been largely emasculated by university-bred political correctness to the point the murderers and abusers of children are referred to in the media as “gentlemen” lest someone take offense. Don’t you dare take a conservative stance in politics or the hounds of hell will be let loose against you as Sarah Palin discovered.

John the Baptist was the arch conservative of his time, and the rulers he called a “generation of vipers” cringed at the truth of his accusation and set out to destroy him. But Jesus praised John, however he pointed to something that remains true to this day, something everyone should heed if you think you can be on both sides of the moral fence: Luke 7:30-35: “But the Pharisees and lawyers rejected the counsel of God against themselves, being not baptized of him. And the Lord said, Whereunto then shall I liken the men of this generation? and to what are they like? They are like unto children sitting in the marketplace, and calling one to another, and saying, We have piped unto you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned to you, and ye have not wept. For John the Baptist came neither eating bread nor drinking wine; and ye say, He hath a devil. The Son of man is come eating and drinking; and ye say, Behold a gluttonous man, and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners! But wisdom is justified of all her children.”

As Jesus taught, and as Emerson and Thoreau among many others have agreed there is never an instant’s truce between vice and virtue. Both continue the ongoing battleground they have been since The Fall making peace in the world, the thralldom of Satan impossible. Look at those attacking Sarah Palin; and what is the basis of their hatred for her. It is satanic. But even Christians often seem a little embarrassed to say they believe there is a Devil such as described in the Bible. Now why is that? Do they think it more important to sound more believable, more credible to others if they treat the reality of Satan like some fantasy? Shame on those professing to be “Christian” while denying the fact of the Devil and his dirty work in the world! Do you go to church like those Jesus condemned for their hypocrisy or are you really resisting the Devil and his works? Let your light shine that others may see your good works by all means, but if your good works do not include the battle against Satan you are not a child of God.

Jesus roundly condemned the religious leaders of his time and they in turn reviled him, saying he was demon possessed. Jesus countered that God was his Father, but their father was the Devil! Now, too often those purporting to “preach the Gospel” wear soft clothing and live in kings’ palaces, living the high life as though they were in a Broadway production! But if you tell the truth as John the Baptist and Jesus proclaimed it you had better be ready for Satan’s attacks because they will surely come. The truth does not pay in this world; but for those who choose to lie and live comfortably in this world the truth remains that “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God!” I don’t expect the truth from the Devil and his followers; as Jesus said the Devil was a liar from the very beginning and the father of lies, but if you claim to believe in God you had better be dealing in nothing but the truth. “Straight is the gate and narrow is the way that leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.” Many make a mock at these words of Jesus; but I believe they do so to the peril of their souls, especially those that advocate for perversion while mocking the warning of Romans 1:32: “Who knowing the judgment of God, that they which commit such things are worthy of death, not only do the same, but have pleasure in them that do them.”

The Weedpatch Gazette

Fri, 20 Nov 2009 09:44:28 PST

It was evident to many including me when the GOP could not come up with someone better than McCain I wrote that under the circumstances his choice of Sarah Palin was the wisest thing he could do. Having thrown away any chance of winning the election, and it becoming blatantly obvious there were evil forces at work to bring a nonentity like Hussein out of obscurity and thrust him into the limelight by those like Soros, ACORN, the ACLU, racist Oprah, and the MSM for the most part hating on Sarah making her the focus of their vitriol it was the Devil’s game throughout. But Devil or not, Hussein is fast becoming America’s worst nightmare while Sarah is becoming increasingly popular and getting all the press. That the press she is getting speaks volumes about her enemies, including the sexual orientation of some who hate her for being a real woman speaking her mind, she continues to prove the wisest choice McCain could have made, albeit unwittingly on his part.

No, she is not a viable candidate for President at this time and she may never be; but it is blatantly obvious that all the vitriol being spewed out against her is forcing other issues into debate; issues the backers and worshippers of Hussein would rather not discuss or brought out into the open. Hussein continues to be a puppet of the evil forces working against America and the attacks against We the People, our very freedoms as legitimate American citizens are becoming increasingly transparent. But when you consider all the really bad things in Hussein’s background like his birth certificate and Jeremiah Wright being brushed aside, the lack of Congressional oversight for his supporters like ACORN you know his handlers are not going to settle for anything less than a Hitler/Goebbels control of the media. For the time being, those like Glenn Beck and Rush Limbaugh are allowed a forum because these globalists like Soros backing Hussein want to give the illusion that we still have a free press and freedom of speech. But to repeat; I believe the seed of America’s destruction was sown in slavery for the sake of profits, much like “Press one for English,” and I continue to see America as Babylon of Revelation.

Consider the early doctored photo of Sarah Palin in a bathing suit holding a Crosman pump pellet rifle. Who but a pervert would have her holding a pellet gun only useful for killing gophers, rats, and ground squirrels rather than a large bore rifle such as that used to shoot a moose? Many people did not catch on to that pervert trick; but I’m very familiar with the tactics used by perverts in their attempts to turn America into a pervert loving nation, along with all the attempts to foil any opposition to open borders and slave labor. All of these things are a perversion of what America used to represent, the fatal flaw of not rejecting slavery by our Constitution aside and we have lost anything like the moral compass Sarah Palin represents. And the servants of Satan continue to demonize anyone believing the Bible has great value in their lives.

In the book of Judges God had Jael and Deborah to do the work when men were failing in their duties. The book of Esther emphasizes this point. There are several instances of God having women do the work when a man worthy of the name could not be found. The only real fault I find with Sarah Palin is that she has stepped into a role which God did not intend for women from my Biblical point of view. But if a real man cannot be found with the backbone to confront the Evil One and his attacks on those of us who hold the Bible as having great value in our lives, then it would not surprise me if God will have a woman do the job; and that to the shame of men.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Thu, 19 Nov 2009 15:23:01 PST

A close friend has died of breast cancer; but the way in which she handled the disease has been an inspiration to many others and me. She has, in fact, told her story in a pamphlet that is used by many oncologists to help their patients. A truly remarkable woman!

The catastrophic suddenness of the death of a loved one may precipitate a loss of hope. The sudden and unexpected betrayal of someone's love and trust in a mate is not unlike such a death and is always accompanied with a loss of hope through the grief of betrayal and the accompanying loneliness.

Granted most people live through the psychosis of grief, the torment and agony of such betrayal, but the psychic pain, while dulled with time, is always there, always ready to rear its ugly head in some familiar setting of remembrance, through some melody heard, through some chance remark or expression. And, there will always be the nightmares.

The Psalmist asks the question of God: “Why do the wicked prosper, why do they feel no pain or grief?” Simple: They are the betrayers, and betrayers of love and trust never have a conscience with which to contend. It is that tender conscience that separates the sheep from the goats. Those with a conscience simply cannot do as those that betray. They cannot even return evil for evil. Such a tender conscience both grieves and hates. Yes, hatred can be properly directed at the seducer of a faithless mate; but that tender conscience does not take a gun and go after either one of their betrayers.

My own studies in Human Behavior have led me to some very interesting speculations on this subject. I call these “speculations” because of the paucity of empirical data. No, we don't lack examples, but examples are not proofs. It is my contention, however, that a database could be built with mathematical precision that could predict human behavior, analyze it and help people with emotional problems and things like addiction. But the database would have to be immense. It is unlikely that the necessary funds for such a study would be forthcoming unless the bottom line should have an economic pay-off. That's reality.

Certainly there are broad parameters of predictability; people would rather be rich than poor, good looking rather than ugly, etc. Neither does such a study have to deal with stupid questions. What's a stupid question you ask? I'll give you an example. A woman asked me once why older men preferred younger women? Now either this woman was somewhat short in the think department or she hadn't really given the question serious thought. In her case, however, knowing the woman reasonably well, I know it had a lot of sour grapes to it. She was well past the age of attracting a desirable man and she knew it.

Her coping mechanism was to put down all men as silly if they preferred younger women. She does have a point; men have been just that silly about women all through the history of humankind and that isn't ever going to change. However, her remark carried not a little of the truism of a woman scorned; hell indeed hath no such fury.

Consequently, women had better learn to value themselves as persons in their own right. It wouldn't be a bad idea either if women would give some thought to those ancient concepts of virtue and fidelity. Unhappily, even tragically, too many seem intent on proving Solomon right: “A virtuous woman who can find for her price is far above rubies ... one man among a thousand I have found but never a woman.” Talk about a dismal outlook.

But what does lead to betrayal, what causes the loss of so much in people's lives, where does love go to die? After the excitement of the chase, why does boredom set in rather than a mutually satisfying give and take, a nurturing and maturing relationship? What leads some to having to constantly prove they are still desirable to the opposite sex? And, of utmost importance, what leads to the contentment of having just that one other person in your life? Why do some have to have constant, even impossible, assurances of love and desirability? Ah, the perversity of both men and women in seeking happiness!

Women seem to need far more than men do of the constant assurances of love. They need, even demand, attention. Since the poet, the writer, lives in his head, he is most often given to introspection and meditation. This is a solitary man. Women in general cannot seem to abide a solitary man. They feel ignored.

What, exactly, is at work in the mind of someone who rips out gardens and flowers at 3 a.m.? Why does music suddenly become a curse? Why do some have to relocate to get away from familiar places, even giving up homes in order to relieve the suffering of remembrances? The betrayal of love and trust often causes otherwise bizarre behavior.

To explore grief is not an easy task. It is the dark side of love. I'll never forget the friend who asked me how I could endure listening to so many people's problems? There is no ready answer to such a question. Whatever the cause, the poet deals with life in the raw and makes the mistakes that come with trying to deal with it. It is always the hope of the poet that in painting memorable word pictures of life some will find cause for hope, that the ideals of purity, romance and beauty will survive the onslaught of all the ugliness of the realities with which we have to contend in our daily lives.

There was the woman for whom I would place a rose from our garden on her nightstand as an expression of my love and appreciation for her. But such indicators of my feelings for her were never enough to counter her concerns for more practical considerations. And, in the beginning, she seemed to have the same appreciation for the stars at night, for discussions of romance, love and poetry.

Our lives seem to be caught up in the practical considerations and circumstances of getting a living. In the fresh bloom of love, our hearts do turn to the things of beauty and they are real. We seem to give our hearts to those things of lasting value and the priorities seem to be ordered properly. Then, little by little, those practical, incessant demands seem to gain the ascendancy.

I believe it is their nature that women have to be more practical than men. In our perverse culture where a woman's value is predicated on her youth and attractiveness, a woman better have her wits about her and make the best deal she can while she still has something of value to exchange. Pity the poor girl who exchanges her youth and beauty for a bum! Therefore it should come as no surprise that men can afford to be more extravagant in the areas of love and romance; that men can be the poets and artists and leave off undue concern for many of the practicalities that women have to consider.

So it was that my lady, as others, seemed to lose, little by little, any appreciation for the things of real beauty and romance. There simply wasn't time in her busy schedule for such relatively unimportant things. But the curse of the poet remained upon me. Such things as the stars and the beauty of God's creation, of the animals, birds and flowers, rocks and trees, the vistas of sea, mountains and desert, the enchantment of the ideals of beauty and the expressiveness of the language of love, still move in me and will not be silenced. Such things remain the best of the child within me, the best of what makes a real man and will never give way to more practical considerations.

I remember well another woman I loved deeply telling me once, “Love isn't enough!” Some years have passed since that unforgettable night. I wonder, now that she faces 50, whether she might have reconsidered? Of course love isn't enough if it isn't accompanied, like faith, with the requisite works. But I was never a man who failed to provide those things that are essential for maintaining life such as food, clothing, shelter and transportation. I have always, for example, made sure the women I have known and loved always had better cars than I was willing to drive.

I am not so impractical that the considerations of getting a living are ignored. My own life is a testimony to my work ethic and I will always heed the injunction: If any not work, neither should he eat! But, gentle reader, how much is enough? As Thoreau pointed out, a man is rich in accordance with those things he can afford to leave alone. I think most people would profit from wanting less. Certainly lives would suffer less stress if the creed “He that has the most toys when he dies, wins” was not the goal of our society.

The question remains, can love and romance survive the necessities of dirty laundry and dishes, of working on the car or mowing the lawn, of getting a living? I say YES! in the face of all the odds against me. Hence the appellation thrown against me by one of the women I have loved: A man without common sense.

I have been described, however, by some women as a kind and gentle man, a nice man, even a very special man. That is high and humbling praise. If there be any truth to such praise, it comes by virtue of the fact that I have been blessed by daughters who taught me the softer and gentler facts about women. I wish I could say I have learned such things from the other women in my life; but I cannot.

As a writer, I often intrude myself into areas where angels fear, not so much out of any death wish, but primarily out of curiosity. Along with the curse of solitude, I am cursed with an inordinate curiosity about many things, often quite diverse. For this reason, I found myself in the bars as a non-drinker for example, doing the research for this book.

I’ve returned to Bakersfield for a short stay. Now that I'm in the big city, I am checking out the local churches (and the local bars). One large church advertised a Singles Ministry. I certainly qualify so I went.

Well, the people were all exceptionally nice and friendly and certainly made me feel welcome. But as I sat and endured the sermonette I couldn't shake the impulse to cry out: Where's the reality of what Jesus is all about here? In other words, a nice group of people was sitting listening to the same old thing you hear virtually every Sunday in both Sunday school and Church. The word “dynamic” did not exactly come to mind, but the word “boring” most certainly did. I had to comment to one of the nice fellows after surviving the meeting that it only confirmed my own theological observation that if the churches could only make Heaven half as exciting as Hell they would be doing a thriving business. He was not amused.

But as I sat there, I remembered that I too was once one of these people; satisfied with comfortable religious beliefs, dogmas, that allowed an easy mind if you didn't ask the hard questions. Unhappily I did begin, finally, to ask such questions of God and I haven't had an easy time of it since.

There was a moment during the harangue from the speaker where I found myself fervently wishing that I had opted to go to the Cadillac Ranch out at Marin instead. Well, I thought, if this finishes in time, I could still make it out to a place where the people were actually alive, some actually enjoying themselves rather than pretending to as a religious exercise. But, it wasn't to be.

The time was redeemed in some fashion by my being able to actually discuss some of my views with a few people before I left. These are nice people. Nothing I have said should be construed otherwise. They are caring, concerned and trying to find answers to their own loneliness in a manner that fits their own beliefs and faith. I heartily commend them for this.

It is, I suppose, the oppressive insular attitude I meet with in the churches. These folks just don't seem to know there is a war going on for the hearts and minds of our children, our future as a nation. And if they are aware of it, they seem ill suited to do battle in the Devil's arena. Religion is the protective shield they have built to insulate themselves from all the ugliness about them. God help such warriors if I were allowed another pulpit from which to tell them of the realities outside their comfortable pews!

Harsh as such criticism is, let me be the first to confess that I would willingly re-join them in shutting out all that ugliness if I only could. How fervently I wish I had never intruded myself into the World, how I wish the questions had never begun to be asked that led to my alienation from my brethren. I feel like Paul who could have wished himself accursed for the sake of his own brethren according to the flesh, the Jews, if they could only be made to see the light.

But all the wishing in the world won't change what I know and what I have learned and experienced in my own pilgrimage through this vale of tears. How I wish I could get those brethren to listen and understand. But I'm damaged goods and, like the Publican, no matter how low I bow my head and beat my breast crying out to God: Be merciful to me, a sinner!, the wicked, the seducers, the liars still prosper and those with a tender conscience still grieve alone. And I can't shake the belief like that of Emerson that if the churches were really doing the job God called them to, it wouldn't be this way.

Well, I'll be going to the Cadillac Ranch another time and mixing it up with the rest of the sinners. The music will play, I'll dance with the women and some will provide me the stories I write. I'll find the real poetry of life in an accurate recounting of real people and real events. At least it will be lacking the stench of hypocrisy.

I'll be with those who certainly understand the subject of sin, and often show a more sincere sensitivity to their own sins than those attending the churches. Could this be the reason Jesus said the prostitutes and tax collectors stood a better chance of Heaven than the professional religionists of His time? My mother used to say, “If the churches were as friendly as the bars they would be crowded.” I credit my mother being correct about this (From my book: “Birds With Broken Wings”).

The Weedpatch Gazette

Wed, 18 Nov 2009 09:34:23 PST

Death of a Beagle:

Mr. Cavendish was very anxious to pick up his pet beagle, Merl, from obedience school. It wasn’t that Merl was really disobedient, but he had acquired a few bad habits and Mr. Cavendish, being such a gentle person, just couldn’t bring himself to properly discipline his little friend. So, enrolling him in obedience school seemed the best solution.

Entering the school’s office he was greeted by the headmaster, Doctor Diabole.

With a warm handshake, the good Doctor bid Mr. Cavendish welcome and invited him to take a seat.

“Well, now, Mr. Cavendish, how very kind of you to drop in; I assume you’re here to inquire about Merl?”

“Why yes, of course, Doctor Diabole. I know I should have called before coming by, but I have been very anxious to see Merl and I had hoped he would be ready by now for me to take home. It has been very lonely for me without him and I’m certain he misses me as well.”

With a polite soft and delicate cough Doctor Diabole cleared his throat, and averting his eyes from Mr. Cavendish slowly folded his hands on his desk, and with bowed head as though reluctant to speak replied, “Ah, my dear Mr. Cavendish I’m afraid I have some unfortunate news.”

“What is it Doctor, Merl isn’t sick is he?”

“No, no, nothing of the sort. As a matter of fact Merl is dead.”

Mr. Cavendish was stunned! What? Merl dead? How did it happen? He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Merl dead?

Attempting to comprehend the magnitude what he had just heard, tears suddenly filled his eyes and Mr. Cavendish struggled to control himself… his Merl, dead? It simply could not be true! He could not be hearing Doctor Diabole correctly! There must be some terrible mistake!

Doctor Diabole arose, and stepping out from behind his desk went over and put a comforting arm around the shoulders of the sobbing Mr. Cavendish.

“My dear sir, I’m sorry to have to tell you this but Merl proved incorrigible. In fact, he consistently failed an essential course on properly piddling. You know, of course, how a rolled up newspaper is used to gently correct a dog?”

“Yes, I know,” Mr. Cavendish replied with an effort past the lump in his throat all the while wiping his eyes with his handkerchief.

“Well,” Doctor Diabole continued, “Merl just didn’t respond well to such a training technique utilizing a newspaper. So I was forced to apply sterner measures with a whip. But even this proved insufficient and finally left me no choice but to beat him with a baseball bat.”

“WHAT!” Mr. Cavendish roared, jerking up from his chair.

“Now, now, Mr. Cavendish, I understand your concern, I truly do, but really, we simply cannot have dogs piddling just anywhere, now can we?”

“But, but, beating Merl to death with a baseball bat! You can’t possibly be serious! This is some kind of sick joke, right?”

“Not at all, sir. But you do have the option of having Merl stuffed and mounted quite attractively in a pose of your choosing, or we can simply give you his pelt.”

“Stuff Merl! Give me his pelt! Are you insane!?”

“Please calm yourself Mr. Cavendish. We here at the Kind and Gentle School of Obedience are not savages; we are not insensitive to owners such as you. But surely you must realize that the school’s reputation is at stake. We simply cannot be viewed as not taking our responsibility seriously. Nor, may I be so candid as to suggest that you, as Merl’s owner, would surely not wish it to be known you owned a dog that was so cloddish he couldn’t learn to piddle properly, now would you?

“You! You! ...!”

“Please now Mr. Cavendish, I do urge you again to calm yourself and try to put yourself in my position. Now beating Merl to death has to be put in its proper perspective. I’m sure you will, upon calm reflection, come to see the wisdom of my action. Your agitation is understandable, but do be civilized my dear man. After all, didn’t your parents beat you when they were lovingly trying to teach you to piddle properly?”

“No! They most certainly did not!” Mr. Cavendish shouted.

“Come, come now, my dear Mr. Cavendish it’s perfectly permissible and quite understandable to indulge in some fantasy, but for the sake of sound mental health it does no good to continue in denial and pretend such a thing didn’t happen. After all, I came to see the beatings my parents gave me were out of their purest love for me. Denial is very harmful, damage to the psyche and all that, you know. It would be far better to simply admit the truth of the matter rather than continue in such denial. Most harmful, you know, to a well-adjusted and healthy mind toward such things.”

“You sadistic fiend! My parents never beat me to get me to piddle properly and how dare you even suggest such a thing!”

“Oh, dear, I simply cannot deal with you about this issue if you continue in this hysterical vein, Mr. Cavendish. Perhaps it would be better if you simply left Merl’s final disposition to me. The choice of the pelt in your case, I would imagine. Yes, that would be best, I’m quite certain. I assure you that once you have Merl’s pelt in your hands you’ll feel much, much better and be able to put all this in its proper perspective. In time you’ll come to appreciate the wisdom of my action and the fortuitousness of no longer having to bear the disgrace of being the owner of such a shameless and incorrigible animal. Now my professional recommendation is a nice hot tub, a cup of tea and a good book. You’ll feel much, much better, I can assure you.”

Now being struck dumb and utterly incapacitated by his profound grief, without another word Mr. Cavendish allowed Doctor Diabole to quietly and gently usher him out the door.

Postscript: Oakland, California: A man, Damon Valrey, 25, was charged with murder for beating a toddler, Dante Jones, 2, to death because the boy was having problems with potty training. The little boy’s body showed signs of previous abuse including burns from scalding water.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Mon, 16 Nov 2009 15:13:47 PST

Among my forest companions, I love our Valley Quail; their chuckling and calling to one another are music, like that of a breeze soughing through pine needles, I came to love as a boy and has never lost its charm for me. But one time a “kamikaze” quail went right through a living room window killing itself, breaking out the glass and sounding like a bomb going off that really got my attention, and what a mess to clean up.

Accommodation to Nature is a necessity when you live in the Kern River Valley, and especially when you live as I do in a small cottage in the country. Some of the most beautiful of my forest companions around the place are the large grey tree squirrels. But these can present a problem when you have a big pine tree growing next to your house. These squirrels get busy on the pinecones and bombard the roof; one large pinecone actually punched a hole through both my roof and ceiling. It sounded, like the quail through my window, as though a bomb had exploded in my living room. If you are familiar with the “digger pine” you know some of their cones can be quite large and heavy, and a fresh cone dropping from the height of this very tall tree could actually kill someone. So one of the necessary chores I face with which city dwellers have no problem is keeping the flat portions of my roof swept clear of pinecones, pine needles and keeping the roof patched. But while I used to build houses I am no longer able to climb the ladder and do this simple chore and have to depend on others to do it. Fortunately over the years living here I do have good people to call upon when I need repairs to the house or well and the various things that go into keeping the place habitable.

Lacking a family any longer I came to depend on attending angels including both those seen and unseen, but at my age I need “angels” that can engage and share moaning, bitching, and complaining in general as well as those with whom I enjoy sharing some of the more delightful aspects of life and my gratitude for all God has done for me including the indispensible friends that help me keep on keeping on. But dry macular degeneration has cost me the sight of my left eye and the right is deteriorating so they know my time of writing is drawing to a close. This is not intended to elicit sympathy, but as explanation for why the occasional typo may occur in what little writing I am now able to do.

With Thanksgiving and Christmas coming on the lack of family makes these “holidays” a melancholy time at best as those in my situation readily sympathize. For the most part, over the past few years I have “gone into hibernation” during the holidays apart from the few friends who visit; the holidays are something to “just get through” and wait for things to return to normal everyday concerns. But putting things in perspective, my personal problems pale when compared to what Americans as a whole have to face with no prospect of future improvement.

Wherever we turn there seems to be little but confusion and bad news for America, no leadership worthy of being called such, and the devil you knew grows more popular while contending with the devil you don’t know. In the case of the elderly, I have come to know personally the dictum put in place by greed and ineptitude on the part of our “healthcare” situation in America. We elderly are expected to simply “go home and die.” Even as I write I am still waiting for paperwork to be “processed” before I can get attention to a life-threatening physical problem. A dear friend went through three months of such before receiving needed attention. She certainly affirmed what I have just written when it comes to our medical system with its interminable paperwork and test after test wearing you down: “They expect you to give up and just go home and die.”

America’s empty and spineless suit of a President is in the Devil’s pocket and dances to the tune of his global masters like Soros. When you think about the fact that the hundreds of billions spent by Hussein and his cohorts in Congress to make the rich even richer could have put thousands of dollars directly into the pockets of the Great Unwashed it makes us angry; but our anger has no force; we are no longer a nation but a bunch of petty states divided by race, languages, cultures, special interests, and as a result the Great Unwashed pose no real threat to our rulers. The Devil allows the voices of those like Glenn Beck and Rush Limbaugh because the Evil One knows it lulls people into a sense of hope something will be done to put America back on the right path; but it isn’t going to happen.

I’ve lived in Norman Rockwell’s America, a nation where doctors actually made house calls. There is no disputing the fact that a doctor in the house can’t take the place of what is available in a hospital; but medical services are now enormous big businesses as well as providing full time employment to multiplied thousands of lawyers.

I was born into an America that was a once proud nation and the envy of the world; now I have lived long enough to see that America destroyed through unbounded greed and avarice leading us on the path to becoming a third world debtor nation to the global masters calling all the shots, not seeming to realize they may be fulfilling their place in God’s plans to bring our nation into judgment.

It is easy to dismiss those like me that believe in God and believe He is going to have the last word; it is increasingly easy for the servants of Satan to ridicule us, satirize us and make us appear foolish. But this is what God’s children have been told to expect in the End Time because it is during this period of the old earth in which the Devil knowing his end is certain and near will, like Hitler attempted to do with Germany, become increasingly destructive. But God has promised there will be a new earth in which righteousness will prevail and all tears will be wiped away. I hold on to that promise.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 13:43:12 PST

Do you remember how the children were so upset in “The King and I” when their teacher showed them a map and Siam appeared so tiny? Siam should have appeared much, much larger because this was how the children were taught to believe. To these children, that map was an insult to Siam. While winners write the history of wars, the universities of America teach a revisionist history that would have it we should apologize to Japan for those two atomic bombs; notwithstanding the fact that those two bombs saved millions of American and Japanese lives had we been forced to invade Japan. It’s a moot point now that WWII should never have even happened; and we live with the consequences. But the children of Japan are taught a revisionist history, much as those children in Siam that would make America the villain for the war and gloss over the reasons Japan invited its own destruction. Russia, China, Arab nations, etc. have their own revisionist histories to fit the changes in leadership.

It is not surprising that Hussein would dodge the question by a Japanese reporter whether he thought America was right in dropping those two atomic bombs. Hussein is a product of our universities and their revisionist histories, and that reporter was probably the result of Japan’s revisionist history that glosses over details like the treachery of Japan in attacking us, the Rape of Nanking, and the Bataan Death March.

But look at a world map and try to appreciate how tiny Israel could be of such monumental importance on the world scene? How is it possible that so many nations call this tiny bit of geography the greatest threat to world peace? To qualify for such a distinction one would think like those Siamese children it should be much, much bigger!

Well, Israel’s “size” is not based on the space it occupies but on religion and politics. It is believed for good reason that had it not been for God’s covenant with Abraham Jews would have disappeared from the world scene centuries ago. And were it not for America, the new Israel would never have become a nation or have survived thereafter. However, God had promised a remnant of the Israelites would remain to the End; and that remnant would be all-important for God’s plans in the End Time.

It is nothing but sophistry to attempt to explain the survival of Jews to this day and Israel to be reborn apart from the Bible. But so many have a hatred for the Bible they are unwilling to attribute any truth to it. Certainly Muslims want nothing to do with the fact Ishmael was born of a handmaiden and Isaac was born the legitimate son and as such was to inherit the promises made of God to Abraham. Muslims have an enormous amount of revisionist history in order to make their religion legitimate, but the Bible tells a different story. So, Mohammad had to have his own “Bible,” the literary abortion known as the Koran. Much of my own system of belief is based on the Bible, but I don’t worship a book and I know the damage done by those that worship a book whether the Bible or the Koran.

Jesus accused the religious leaders of his time of being “book-worshippers” that had done much damage by leaving off the most important teachings of their Bible, the teachings that culminated in “To love God and your neighbor as yourself is all the Law and the Prophets.” No matter what the religion, if this is not its goal it is false.

My own accusation against those that make wars is that they are invariably for profit; and as a result the innocent suffer, sometimes millions of them. We do not belong in Iraq or Afghanistan. As I said of our past President I say of our new one: “Impeach Obama and bring our troops home!” But I know such a thing is patently implausible; America seems on a path of self-immolation and Hussein seems determined to hasten the day. America does have a destiny to fulfill, but I fear it will be that of self-destruction leading to the kind of Biblical globalization leading to Armageddon in which the tiny nation of Israel will play a key role.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Sat, 14 Nov 2009 14:35:01 PST

Paul Wendkos, the director of “Gidget” has died. Sandra Dee passed away in 2005. According to her son, Sandra Dee was only sixteen when she married Bobby Darin. They were, as her son Dodd pointed out by the title of the book about his mother: “Dream Lovers.” And so it appeared to many of us back in 1959 when Gidget was released; we wanted to believe the dream onscreen would mean a happy ending, however things did not turn out that way and the couple divorced in 1967. But I will always be in Gidget’s debt for the dream as I describe it in a chapter of my book “Birds With Broken Wings:”

My mind often goes off into the memories of my life on the old mining claim. I have just remembered the time my grandfather and I tried out a few sticks of more powerful dynamite than we had been using to do the assessment work on the old claim. The 20% we were used to working with seemed a little tame for the work so grandad picked up some 40%. Having star-drilled the corners of the pit, we split a couple of sticks and inserted the blasting caps. Placing a couple more sticks on top and stringing the wire, we tamped them in place and got back away before letting loose.

Now there was a convenient large, granite boulder we were used to crouching behind during the previous operations, and we assumed our positions. Grandad hit the detonator. The blast was horrific; huge chunks of material the size of watermelons shot over our heads like cannonballs! There was, obviously, a very real distinction of difference between the 20% and 40%.

Surviving surprises of this nature has seemed to be my lot through life. I'm not at all sure why. Most of the time it hasn't been through any conscious cooperation of mine; quite the contrary as my friends can testify.

So, as with my surviving my motorcycle accident, the Mojave Green missing its strike, the Canadian Ross rifle exploding, being shot at and cut and so many other similar incidents, shrapnel in my leg and the various scars top to bottom (though a quiet man, I'm more than a little acquainted with violence and could never back down from a bully either in a person or an evil system of government), I have been forced to the conclusion that my time is in God's hands and I'm not leaving off cumbering the earth until He decides to call it quits.

For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow. Ecclesiastes 1:18. It would seem The Preacher knew whereof he spoke. There is such a thing as knowing too much. I wish I could return to the simpler life of comfortable dogmas and beliefs before I began asking the hard questions of God. But I did start asking and it hasn't been easy since.

Yes DR, as you agreed in a note to me, there is a need to take time out to feed the squirrels, to take time out for the simpler things and get the taste out of our mouths of having to deal with so much evil all about us. But, as you also agreed with me in response to my once saying “I think I have lived too long and I know too much,” the battle rages and we are entered into the labors of those who have gone before. There is no rest from vigilance for the sake of liberty.

As I try to make a finish of this chapter, there are many questions left unresolved in my mind. I certainly don't presume that I will find the most crucial answers to the most important of them alone. It will take Americans working together to do this. But this chapter is really an epilogue, and as such doesn't have a real ending nor did I really expect it to. There is just too much to the story, and I am apparently, rightly or wrongly, going to keep on keeping on. I know there is a job to do and by God's grace I’ll persevere. As I shared with a loved one recently, I'm tenacious and keep working for the day and hoping in tomorrow’s.

I miss the pictures. No matter how welcome I am in the homes of friends, the pictures of their families, their children, are a haunting reminder of the cost of doing battle in this arena in which I have found myself. How I long to have a place where the evidence of family, my family, my children, is displayed. But for over ten long years at the time of this writing this hasn't been the case. Will it ever be? I have no way of knowing, but the loss never stops hurting.

Count yourself blessed if you have such a place, such a family. Take it from one who knows, it is worth all you can give to it; it is precious beyond words, and Caesar will continue to do his best to destroy this most precious resource, our families and children. Remember: Our Children Do Not Belong To Caesar!

Perhaps it is just as well that I am writing this in the old South Bay under the influence of so many memories of Camelot and my life among the Lotus-Eaters of long ago, of a time when all things were possible. The gentle reminders of what things are supposed to be in hope of a future for our children flood my mind here as nowhere else.

The mental picture forms from Life Goes On of Becca and that boy on the beach, silhouetted against a blood-burst sunset, knowing they have shared the very best of what love has to offer in the midst of the tragedy that will prevent their ever marrying and having a family. Our children face an uncertain future filled with evils I never had to face as a child and young adult.

But it is the responsibility of my generation to fix the mess we allowed that has betrayed our children of the hope of the American Dream. We must rebuild the Ancient Landmarks and provide, once more, the fertile soil from which the artists, poets, musicians, writers, philosophers of future civilization, a kinder and gentler civilization, can come forth. No nation that fails to cherish its young has a future as a nation. Nor does it deserve one!

I wonder how many of you remember the movie Gidget? It came out in 1959 starring Sandra Dee, James Darren, Cliff Robertson, with the Four Preps, Darren and Morris Stoloff doing the music. Having lived the life of the Lotus-Eaters with the music of Camelot and clean, uncrowded beaches with no graffiti in sight where the movie was made, it was my era and my life during the late fifties and early sixties.

Leaving the wilderness of the Sequoia National Forest and my life among the birds and animals on the mining claim, I found myself in Redondo Beach and soon made myself familiar with Hermosa, Manhattan Beach, Santa Monica, Venice and Malibu. The transition was eased by the music that I continued to play and sing; music as common to me in the wilderness as it was in Camelot. The kids at Mira Costa High School in Manhattan Beach where I attended my senior year and graduated knew and loved the same music so, by continuing to play in the school band and at dances together with my job at Floyd and Gil's Auto Body Shop on Pacific Coast Highway in Redondo, I gained acceptance to this new environment.

To watch Gidget now is to realize how much our children have lost. Toward the end of the movie, Gidget and her mother look at a motto on Gidget's bedroom wall. It reads: To be a real woman is to bring out the best in a man.

After all these years, I am surprised to find myself much more in love with Gidget now than I was then. Perhaps it is because in our maturity, having learned and now understanding what is of real value in life neither Gidget nor I will ever really get old. In our minds the ideals of love and romance remain unshakable and hope of the future will never die.

Gidget, as with Audrey Hepburn and me, did grow up. We learned to love others, to love children. And in learning to love, we never became old. So I watch what is now an old movie and Gidget and I are young once more in the true environment of a Camelot that promoted the best of innocent love and romance, the best of a hope for the future; the Four Preps together with Morris Stoloff always provide the music in the background, the sea and shore remain clean and uncrowded, filled with the scent and sound of the kind of magic only the Pacific Ocean and the old South Bay could provide.

As I write this, I am sadly aware of how few people can truly understand what I am trying to say. It is a tragic loss to our children that they don't even know what they have lost. So I suppose someone has to recall it for them, someone like myself who was there when it was all real, when it was actually happening and Gidget and I were in love and knew it because she, as a real woman, brought out the best in me as a man. She was the poetry, the music and the inspiration that a real woman should be for a real man.

It is the responsibility of the poet, the maker and raconteur of his age, to never let the magic die but to pass it on to the next generation. It remains the definition of true poetry to be a recounting of the actual, but in a way as to make it memorable. And nothing but a real woman like Gidget can inspire the poet to his best.

My own poetry is much that of the essayist. As such, it is intensely personal and without the usual devices by which poetry as it should be fell into decline in the universities. The poet and essayist is an intense examiner of his own life. It is through such self-examination; meditative, reflective, studied, that the experiences of his own life lived in conjunction with others becomes remarkable. And so he is compelled, finally, to remark.

Michel Eyquem de Montaigne (1533-92) is known as the father of the Essai. As he pointed out, he did not set out to make himself a study for books. It just happened. Before Montaigne, it was thought unacceptable to set one's life out in such a personal way for others to read as he did. Before Montaigne this was held strictly the purview of the poet only. Montaigne freed the poet to incorporate the essay, this method being far more liberating to comprehensible expression to the masses of people. In later times, this degenerated to a form that became what is called prose.

But a good poetic essay is read pen in hand, and touches heart and mind just as a good piece of music sets the mood of tapping your feet and clapping your hands or instills a mood of love and romance to which the heart and mind are moved to respond. It is my hope these essays will affect the reader in such a fashion.

Along with “Gidget”, we had “Rebel Without a Cause, Picnic” and some of the best Broadway musicals ever made. But things were beginning to get confused. The “Theme From Picnic” or “Moonglow”, Morris Stoloff providing the music for the movie, is one of the most beautiful of compositions. I still thrill to it, especially the McGuire Sisters' version, and always will. But you lose something if you don't visualize Kim Novak and William Holden dancing to the music.

Literature just before and after the turn of the century was already tending to a realism that exposed many of the evils of the time. Life was not all sweetness and light; of course it never had been. Much as I admire the genius of Faulkner, Tennessee Williams, and some of Arthur Miller, I still hold to the fact that a humanity that can produce such masterpieces of beauty, love and romance like the great musicals and Gidget must have within itself the potential of overcoming evil. Our humankind that can portray Gidget cannot give itself over entirely to cynicism or brutality. Gidget gives me ever renewed hope that she and I, together, can still speak for the children.

Gidget and I are not naive. We are believers in love, truth and justice. And knowing the best of these, we are able and willing to fight for them. I would have counseled Kim Novak not to run off to William Holden until he had something to offer a wife. I would have told James Dean that he better get his act together and behave responsibly before his little friend or Natalie Wood got hurt.

But Holden told the truth when he exclaimed to Kim Novak, “I can amount to something with you!” A real woman brings out the best in a man. A real man and woman know that love has responsibility. And it is a responsibility that is gladly embraced. I am not naive. But I know the most powerful force in the universe is love. And I have learned that love is not naive. If the love is real, William Holden and James Dean will get their act together. Gidget will bring out the best in a man.

Lacking naiveté, I know how this generation would respond to a movie like Gidget. They would laugh at it; that is if they could sit through it. Tragically, they would not understand their laughter. But they have never known a society untouched by the brutality of drugs, immorality and violence, a brutality of life that has made virtue, love and romance quaint anachronisms.

Certainly when I watch the movie I am transported with Gidget to the magic of that time which I lived and experienced. I don't have to overlook what is now thought to be the ultra-simplicity of it and the lack of technical sophistication and Spielberg special effects.

But, unlike the young people of today, I also know it wasn't a sham. It was real in its most important parts; real in a way that makes such a tragedy of the lives of our young people today; it was real in making self-discipline, accepting of responsibility and making a life commitment to another, a part of genuine love and romance.

When Cliff Robertson looks at Sandra Dee and says, “She may be pint-sized, but she's quite a woman,” he knew what it was all about. When James Darren looks at Gidget and tells her she “represents real responsibility for a man,” he knew what it was all about. And Gidget knew what being a real woman was all about when she brought out the best in these two men.

Neither Gidget nor I would understand it back then. We understand now. But that motto on her bedroom wall had been passed down from her grandmother to her mother and then to Gidget. Grandmother and mother knew, and in time Gidget would come to know and, hopefully, pass it on to her little girl.

When Moondoggie and Gidget finally face each other as Francis and Jeffrey on the beach, the pledge of their love is enough. All of the commitment to each other in that college pin, the anticipation of what lies ahead for them, is the thrill of a lifetime never to be repeated; and never needed to be repeated. To know real love and romance is a lesson once learned and never to be forgotten.

The world desperately needs Gidget, the girl for whom the pledge of love was enough, the girl who lives in such a way that it commands the respect of boys who, as men, come to understand the supreme value of what Gidget represents and encourage it.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Fri, 13 Nov 2009 16:12:42 PST

University-bred political correctness has all but emasculated America as a cohesive force for any good purpose or end. “I have never seen our government, the military, the media, and those enlightened ones on the Left work so hard to avoid even intoning the words ‘Muslim, Islam,’ or ‘terrorism’ in any story relating to Major Nidal Malik Hasan or the shooting rampage at Fort Hood. Instead, the panoply of ideas as to why… include any and everything you can imagine, EXCEPT the possibility that he may have been influenced by the teachings of violence and martyrdom he's been exposed to all of his life in Islam. We have already forgotten a great lesson from our own recent history: it's more important to be 'correct' than 'politically correct.' The Bible warns that a nation that has been given great light from God, and rejects it, will be given a mind, by God, that cannot even think in its own best interest. That's a perfect definition of 'political correctness.' And that's what's happening in America right now…” Hal Lindsey.

Of course I could have chosen other sources than Lindsey to make the point, but his point concerning the Bible is one I share. God will not be mocked, and any nation that rejects God as America has done cannot expect anything but the rejection and judgment of God (however defined) in return. Those who know me well recognize the wide latitude I grant others to believe as they will; but when religion becomes a cloak for torture, murder, and atrocities all civilized people should come together and recognize such things and the motives of the monsters doing these things and bring them into the light of day. God has been shamed and mocked throughout human history by many a religious group and devotee claiming His name as the reason for their heinous actions; but invariably the children of God throughout the world will be known for their love of one another, not attempting to justify torture and murder in His name; nor are they known by trying to shove their brand of “truth” or “gospel” down the throats of others through force of any kind against another’s will.

If love is the guiding force in your life you are a child of God no matter how you define your belief system, no matter how you define God in your life. I can say that with the assurance of what I believe to be a divine truth: God is love; and all who love are born of God. But in all families there is room for both love and allowance for a wide diversity for the individual members of the family; in my opinion this is no less true of the Family of God. But no child of God is going to purposely commit atrocities of any kind.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Thu, 12 Nov 2009 12:38:13 PST

Animals have no problem with political correctness; all creatures great and small have their own cognitive domains and pecking orders leading to their survival though it means nature is red in tooth and claw. But here we are, human beings capable of articulate speech and can’t get it right in attempts to stop killing one another through unremitting wars of one kind or another. But if animals had articulate speech like that of humans what do you suppose your dog or cat might have to say to you?

In respect to an article “Why chimps can’t talk” researchers are trying to see if it may be a genetic problem. However, to quote from the article: “While finding the molecular differences is good, it is too early and unclear to weigh what it means for language and cognitive evolution,’ said Marc Hauser, a professor of human evolutionary biology at Harvard University. ‘I would be extremely skeptical about drawing inferences,’ Hauser wrote in an e-mail. And the key question is not how, but ‘why did we get language,’ said Derek Bickerton, a linguistics professor at the University of Hawaii. He wrote the book ‘Adam's Tongue: How Humans Made Language, How Language Made Humans.’ ‘Just because humans developed the ability for language, that doesn't mean it would happen automatically,’ Bickerton said. ‘Every other species gets along just fine without it,’ Bickerton wrote in an e-mail. ‘We must have had some need that other species didn't have.’ “

Well of course human beings had some need that other species didn’t have. Chimps, dogs, and cats were not likely to develop the means of a nuclear holocaust; that was left up to us humans because we not only had the proper physical requirements but sophisticated articulate speech and the means of conveying complex and abstract thoughts and mathematics through writing. Chimps were never designed to produce a Newton or a Shakespeare; this has been the domain of Modern Man, a very new arrival among living creatures upon the scene of world history. Other creatures may be traced back millions of years, but our distinct species capable of creating actual civilization with all the accouterments of the arts and sciences is a scant few thousand years old and no “missing link” has been found to our very young and unique species. But at the rate we seem determined to follow a path of self-annihilation this “infant life-form” that is us brings to mind the old saying “Here today, gone tomorrow.”

Those that dedicate their lives to the arts and sciences deserve our admiration and I applaud the many discoveries being made daily in the sciences especially. But Life and Death remain the mysteries they have ever been, and the uneven distribution of the results and benefits of science globally would seem to mark our species nearly as psychotic as the recent Muslim fanatic that gunned down all those innocent people at Fort Hood. The only explanation for this uneven distribution of the results and benefits of our science in modern nations is profits. And why should money be wasted on unproductive mouths led of tyrants and despots that choose to live in the Stone Age rather than practice the most rudimentary thing of birth control among savage nations that would only be money down a rat hole? By not practicing birth control particularly among unproductive mouths and inviting in all the barbarians from Mexico for the sake of slave labor and forcing university-bred political correctness down all our throats the leadership of our nation seems committed to creating as much misery as possible. But following the money leads me to the conclusion a much bigger game is afoot than our nation imploding, a game of globalization bent on enslaving all Americans. After all, neither Stalin nor Hitler were unique in their thinking, only in the extent to which they were successful in carrying out their evil thoughts.

In “The Godfather” one of the Don’s insisted the drug trade be kept away from the schools but it “was alright among the coloreds because they’re animals anyway.” While civilized people gasp at such blatantly rank and ugly discrimination how is it that we have come this far in America from when I was a high school teacher in Watts during the 60s warning that what was happening with drugs there would soon spread to the “lily-white” communities throughout America.

According to the Bible the Adam was a special creation of the gods into which God breathed His own Spirit of Life; and it was a different spirit of life than that of all other creatures in that the Adam became a living soul; it was a “spark of divinity” as with articulate and sophisticated speech not given to other living creatures; it is a “fire of life” as Emerson phrased it and not given other creatures that we carry about in these mortal bodies unique in being able to think and do far beyond any other living creatures. But because of The Fall, the first act of “war” was committed by Cain against Abel; and humankind has been plagued by wars and violence ever since. And it is obvious that barbarians as well as those considering themselves “civilized” commit acts of atrocity and yet the world will never know peace so long as people commit to wars whether the motives be religion, politics, or greed.

So it is that I continue to place my faith and trust in God rather than men. To those that cling to the idea that our species will somehow miraculously survive in the face of the history of our species being contrary to such hope I can only say: Good luck.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Tue, 10 Nov 2009 13:57:27 PST

“Filthy lucre” and “Money laundering” has taken on new meaning what with so much money smeared with cocaine dust and the results of where bills are deposited for topless pole dancers, and let’s not forget the hazards of Swine Flu. I expect a commercial offering money laundering machines at any time shouting out of your TV: “Keep your money clean for the sake of your children! But wait; there’s more; order now and get not one; but we’ll ship a second one free!” Of course the reason such a thing has not been offered may be that these kinds of commercials offering junk are already being used by the shill corporations set up by drug lords for the purpose of money laundering and tax write-offs and don’t want to draw this kind of attention to them.

And perhaps “We the Great Unwashed” actually deserve to be using literally dirty money seeing that “Hussein” and Congress are our duly elected rulers. However, there is some hope since we “little people” as per Leona Helmsley’s observation are virtually guaranteed to have increasingly less of that dirty folding green in our pockets as the organized robbery and tyranny of government threatens to overwhelm us.

Bible scholars have long puzzled why such an important nation as America is not mentioned in the Bible. I believe it is in Revelation chapters seventeen and eighteen. America’s leadership has maxed out the “credit card” far into the future and other nations like China are fully aware of this. What we are not hearing is the very small blip on the screen of history America actually represents as a “superpower.” It was not until after WWII that we emerged fully equipped to gain this status; and have retained it for only a little over sixty years. Should we suddenly suffer economic, weather, asteroid, Yellowstone volcano, SoCal slipping into the Pacific, a horrendous pandemic or any truly catastrophic event as described in Revelation it would throw us (in one hour: Revelation 18:19) into third world status. Should any such thing happen suddenly in the near future America would only be a footnote in future history books should there be any future in which to write such books. But if I am correct in seeing America as “That Great City, Babylon” of the book of Revelation as opposed to “the great city Jerusalem” of Revelation 11:8 our demise as a superpower and the only friend of Israel would play a key role in the nations of the world coming together against that tiny nation, which is considered by most nations at present the greatest obstacle to world peace, and resulting in Armageddon of the End Time.

America having begun rooted and grounded in the Bible has turned its back on God and is ripe for the judgment of God. But to repeat what I have said many times, the seed of our destruction was sown by the failure of the Founding Fathers to abolish slavery by our Constitution for the sake of profits. And as profits continued to rule in America’s leadership resulting in the needless 600,000 casualties of Lincoln’s War and unremitting wars to follow and still ongoing a profits-driven America is facing the catastrophic judgment of God that I believe I foresee in Revelation! But this seems altogether appropriate as America descends into hell like the rich man of the Bible. Despite all the warnings about the lust for riches and extravagant living America became the richest and most powerful nation the world has seen; and in the process has lost its love of God and its soul.

Now all of this might easily be discounted as the ravings of a mad man except for the fact that even discounting God in the process the experts around the world are forecasting the demise of America and acting accordingly. I have no doubts about a global conspiracy of evil being a satanic process well underway; but if you follow the money you can discover conspiracy or not, God and Satan or not America cannot possibly survive the coming economic holocaust our “leadership” is committed to that will enslave the “little people” and benefit only the wealthy and powerful.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 12:12:45 PST

In conversation this morning with my eldest son Daniel about the problems plaguing the Large Hadron Collider it occurred to me what they need is an exorcist like the witch doctor in “Operation Petticoat.” As fantastic as some of the speculations concerning the LHC’s problems have been and knowing some of the greatest minds and most powerful people in the world have been devoted to Astrology and the occult it would not surprise me if a few people within CERN are not already in one way or another attempting to “exorcise the demons” plaguing the project. But such things among great minds and powerful, wealthy people are generally accepted as merely idiosyncratic whereas among the Great Unwashed they would be called at best “superstitious nonsense.” Class distinction? Of course; such a thing is a commonplace throughout human history.

Among the self-styled liberal tails trying to wag the dog and given to bullying and labeling all that disagree with them “racists, homophobes,” etc. ad nauseam there is an abundance of evil to be found in those ranks and whining anyone watching FOX NEWS has to be delusional at best. But the worshippers of “Hussein” as Jesus pointed out of all the children of the Devil will have their day before the end comes; and I believe the end of America led of Hussein and his worshippers is coming and the process of our destruction as a once proud and powerful nation is accelerating rapidly. “How long, oh Lord?” those in Revelation cried out. Not long, I believe; and I have quite a bit of company among those who believe the prophecies concerning the End Times. Tragically for America, I continue to see our nation as that Great City, Babylon of Revelation whose destruction comes swiftly, and the portents for America’s end are to be seen everywhere for those who can read the “handwriting on the wall.”

Quite surprisingly the prophet Daniel continued to live under the reign of several of Babylon’s leaders; but he was under the protection of the Lord, and because of this was spared from the wrath and plots against him. It would appear from Scripture even those wanting him dead were restrained because they knew he was under the protection of God. Nebuchadnezzar we read had made Daniel “master of the magicians, astrologers, Chaldeans, and soothsayers,” and like Joseph had a “cup of divination.” So when that handwriting appeared on the wall condemning Belshazzar it was Daniel who was called on to interpret it. The interpretation: “God hath numbered thy kingdom and finished it, thou art weighed in the balance, and are found wanting. Thy kingdom is divided, and given to the Medes and Persians.” Right after this we read: “In that night was Belshazzar the king of the Chaldeans slain.” That the king had greatly honored Daniel for his reading and interpreting the handwriting on the wall did not save Belshazzar and his kingdom from the judgment of God in that same night of Daniel’s interpretation. That Great City, Babylon, had been destroyed quickly; or as prophesied in Revelation of that Great City in the future: “For in one hour is she made desolate.”

China no longer buying our treasury bonds is a portent, becoming a fractured and divided nation is a portent, “Press one for English,” the various minority tails wagging the dog, the determination by the tyranny of government to make all of us slaves to the dole, the blatant attempt to kick God out of our history and founding as a nation and throughout America today, all are portents, all are the handwriting on the wall prophetic of our own destruction. Here a little there a little and soon the camel is in the tent.

While it is true as Tevye pointed out in “Fiddler on the Roof” that if you have wealth people generally accord you wisdom and you are seated in places of honor. But God prizes genuine humility; that this seems to be wanting among those of great wealth and power comes with the Devil’s territory. It is a curiosity of human history that the wealthy and powerful are often found “consorting with familiar spirits” and devotees of things like Astrology; but then when anyone acquires great wealth and power they become increasingly aware of their mortality and lacking anyone they can trust often turn to the supernatural.

Given our many enemies including Hussein I don’t believe God thinks America is “too big to fail.” Unhappily, I don’t expect to see those at CERN trotting out a witch doctor as per that hilarious scene in the film with Cary Grant and Tony Curtis, but I do believe some of them are resorting to witch doctors and the occult of some kind. The LHC is enormously complex, and to be compared with America in that respect. Our problems as a nation are enormously complex, but unlike CERN we don’t have scientists calling the shots; look at what we have for a government and you don’t know whether to laugh at the clowns or mourn for our coming demise.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 13:40:30 PST

When I learned the Large Hadron Collider had to contend with a bird having dropped a piece of bread in the works halting the operation I immediately thought of the ravens feeding Elijah: I Kings 17:6: “And the ravens brought him bread and flesh in the morning, and bread and flesh in the evening; and he drank of the brook.”

FOXNEWS: November 7, 2009: “The massive machine at the center of the world's biggest scientific experiment has malfunctioned again – derailed by a bit of bread dropped by a bird. The Hadron Collider, buried 100m under the ground near Geneva, Switzerland, is supposed to recreate conditions seen after the Big Bang. Scientist’s hope the $7.3 billion machine will shed light on the event that many scientists believe gave birth to the universe around 14 billion years ago, but the project has suffered a series of setbacks. The latest saw a ‘bit of baguette,’ thought to have been dropped by a bird, fall onto machinery, causing a fault. Sections of the machine, which fires protons round a 17-mile-long tunnel at close to the speed of light in order to smash them in to each other, then overheated. Members of the public who had been looking at data published online noticed the temperature changes and contacted journalists at The Register. They alerted those in charge of the project at the European Organization for Nuclear Research (CERN). According to scientists, had the Collider been in operation at the time it would have shut down automatically, avoiding the damage of last September when a large amount of helium leaked into the tunnel. But the difficulties faced by those working on the project have prompted some members of the scientific community to speculate, in all seriousness, that the machine is sabotaging itself — from the future. The theory is that the particle that physicists hope to produce might be ‘abhorrent to nature,’ so that once created it would work backwards through time to put a stop to whatever created it. However Dr Mike Lamont, who works at the CERN control center, said that the nature of the experiment meant that glitches were inevitable. ‘This thing is so complicated and so big, it's bound to have problems sometimes,’ he said.”

I’m still of the mind the investors in the LHC are looking for an enormous payoff rather than purely adding to scientific knowledge and the project does seem to be “jinxed” so far, at least to those of a mind to consider such a thing plausible. There is no doubt in my mind God knows every sparrow that falls to the ground as Jesus said, and just as He caused the ravens to feed Elijah could cause a bird to interfere with the LHC. However, just as Dr. Lamont stated; a machine of such mind-boggling complexity is fraught with potential problems, and even if these are finally overcome we still don’t know what is going to happen when and if the LHC does fulfill its intended function.

That some are seriously speculating about the possibility of Einstein’s “spooky action (or communication) at a distance” in relation to something (or someone?) from the future sabotaging the LHC at least sustains my continuing to believe there are people of science keeping an open mind to the fantastic. The more that science enables us to peer into atomic structure and our universe the more is discovered that opens the door to speculation about the fantastic. While many are willing to credit Newton with rare genius, they are not so willing to credit his attempts to interpret Scripture or his conviction that Intelligent Design of God was at work in creating the universe and life. But, Alchemy and the Philosopher’s Stone (one possible discovery using the LHC?) are beginning to get the attention of scientists and some are even speculating as I have done about Astrology, knowing as anyone does that the Constellations as per the ancient maps and zodiacs could not be discerned by the naked eye in ancient times any more than they can be today. So, as with many mysteries concerning ancient people and the artifacts declaring they could not have possibly accomplished some of these things without “outside help” of one kind or another I continue to call attention to God putting it in the minds of people like those specially chosen to build the Tabernacle to put it into the minds of others to do His bidding.

On the other hand, I believe the Devil sure has those to do his bidding as well. To paraphrase Thoreau, while God may seem without much company the Devil draws a crowd. And let’s face it; from its infancy the “news” doesn’t make money telling of the good works of good people; it is still the accident drivers slow down to look at, and just as “Hell and destruction are never full; so the eyes of man are never satisfied.”

While I see Intelligent Design the result of the mind of God in all of His creation the mysteries of God are abundant as well. “Who has known the mind of God that he may instruct Him?” As thoughts of the fantastic and speculation about many things flow through my own mind, I am given more and more to wonder at the mysteries of God. But these thoughts and speculations invariably call to mind as well the words from a hymn: “Farther along we’ll know all about it, farther along we’ll understand why.”