Friday, October 20, 2017
What will kill you?
"What will kill you?"
My current situation will not kill me? No matter what they throw at me. No, no. But I do know what will kill me.
There will come a time, and a place, and my son will say: "You're not really my father." I will instruct him nevertheless, saying: "Saint Joseph was not Jesus' father, yet Saint Joseph truly loved Him, as a father."
So, that is what will kill me, when I hear those words. It already has.
But fear not Saint Peter, for there will come a time, and a place, when you will have many mothers and fathers; plus, many brothers and sisters--if you fear your true Father, and honor your true Mother.
And as for the rest, orphans. Know your place in the Multiverse. For we are all Universes, amid the Multiverse of it all.
Thursday, October 19, 2017
Why Touch?
"Why Touch?"
Why touch them with your hands, when you can touch them with your heart? Most souls can't do this, all due to the selfishness of greed. If you have greed, you will die. Greed is the mind killer; indeed, it is what your demons want of you. You always want more. But in order to get more, you have to give more. You willing to go all the way? And yours will be the pits of Pandemonium.
Don't you fools see? He came as a nobody. Uneducated, a mere tradesman. Seemingly crazed, but He was not. Sure, He flipped over a few tables and lashed others; next, unmasked you with words; however, what was He doing? He was praying for you at night, underneath the big neon glitter of it all. What, prayers don't work? Not if you're greedy. He was touching you with love. And love has a higher frequency than hate. Yes, He was on the grid of an Atomic God. And you are not--you murdered Him for doing it. And He let you. He let you slay His angel, in front of His Mother.
If you don't have guilt, your sub-conscious will. God unmasks and does a better Jungian onion peel than Jung himself, the schmuck, on his theories of the supernatural--in my opinion. And all supernatural means is: simply more than natural. Being on the grid of an Atomic God. Yet God only listens to love. He doesn't want to hear plotting and bullshit.
Still, Jesus loves you. And dude at the bank that wants to slash my tires: "Make America great again." Or Rome will burn, and the flames will touch you too.
Dodgers Update
"Dodgers Update"
Justin Turner just put the All American Bat to a fastball. It didn't clear the fence, but it was pretty good. Pretty good.
They say the Dodgers are psychologically scarred from their August slump--I don't think so. They have heavy hitters, and now football is too disgraceful to empirically observe.
Holy Fire! Dodgers got the bases loaded up, and no outs.
What happened to enjoying a Dodger Dog, cheese dip, and a Coke with your family and watching a truly spiritual game. Baseball is not a circus, as Cicero said of the gladiatorial gore in Ancient Rome; specifically, football is the circus, at least the NFL is. Dude, those guys are filthy rich. Get over it; indeed, they bed hot women that you and I will never have, act like fools off the field, and don't even take hits anymore. It's like NERF ball. Staubach took hits, and never bitched.
Oh well, keep your feet on the ground, and your head in the heavens.
Grand Slam baby--Dodgers are on the field.
Quasi-Kevin Feltner; plus, pseudo-Dr. Grenier
"Quasi-Kevin Feltner; plus, pseudo-Dr. Grenier"
1st Amendment. Everything allowed save clear and present danger, fighting words, and if it's ambiguous, always allowed. I'm always ambiguous, or am I?
Did you enjoy being in league with crooked attorneys? False testimony with the sheriff's department? Having 9-millimeters closer than a foot from my mother's head? That is elder abuse, to the raw bone of it all. Did you enjoy torturing my mother? Yes, I think you did.
You're watching me; indeed, but they're watching you watch me. I'm "pretty smart" quasi-Kevin Feltner? I'm in your wife's hole, which one, I don't understand myself. It could be her ear, her nose, her urethra, but--I'm in there. How does it feel? Whose is the fool now? My Mother says hello. Have you met my Mother? Do you want to screw Her? The Virgin Mary has great legs, but only I can glare upon them, for I am not Freud, or better words, the devil. But the devil is your father, the father of lies and murder, as it is written by the Author of Life. He invented the hamburger.
I telepathically communicate with Putin. Possibly. He is watching you. I'm no traitor, but I know a goddamn friend. Trump is my father, allegorically. He taught me how to fight. How to label you, as you have labelled me, but--no longer.
I'm you're only chance at sanity. Then why do you read this? Are you addicted to me? Does your wife lust after my atomic rod? Possibly.
I'm "pretty smart." No. I'm not. But the devil is your father. Relax, it's all a metaphor. And you bald-headed crook, pseudo-lawman. Don't make my Mother give you colon cancer. She has ice water in Her veins. Wouldn't you? You murdered Her Son, right in front of Her; next, hung Him on a Cross, and gambled for His garments, as King David knew 1,000 years before. If only you were Hebrew. It is good to be a member of the Tribe. Even, if only a Levite.
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