Category: Revision

Can God Make a Rock…

> From this.

And now for something completely relevant:

Can God make a rock He can’t lift? No, He can.

(The question has always been of a light, mocking spirit, meant to make fun of the faith. If a believer tries to answer in all seriousness, then the questioner has won, for the believer mistakes the spirit of the question entirely. Why shouldn’t there be a quippy response to such tongue-in-cheekness? If the believer ignores the question, the questioner has again won, for the believer is admitting there is no proper answer. This answer I give, and let it be all I’ll say on the subject, this answer is in the same spirit as the question, and pokes back tit for tat.)


> From this.

I took the first printout of the original document of true love, and on March 1, 2013, at about 10pm EST, I put on some blood red lipstick and I kissed it, then I crumpled it up and threw it away outside, in the apartment garbage. For as you know, Philip K. Dick saw God in the trash layer of the universe, after all. Where else could I petition Him better? I had made a second printout to keep for posterity, and I kissed that after I had kissed the original document, and then I laminated it (badly — there were creases in the plastic on the reverse side; oh, well). I also have tucked away the tube of lipstick I used to kiss. I wonder what will become of such things.

I was told to do this ritual by the Lord, so let it be said of me, “He is an unprofitable servant. He only did what he was told.” Such is my greatest desire, actually, that I may be called so, a true servant of the Lord this would be. Scripture says as much. So this is my letter to the world, that never wrote to me, except that one time I did get this eviction notice… but that’s another story entirely. I must say, the more the penmanship of the world resembles a typewriter, the deeper in trouble you tend to be.

In All Humility

> From this.

You know, I thought of what I would ask for if God asked me like He did Solomon what I desired above all else. Solomon asked for wisdom when God appeared to him in a dream. It is a commendable choice, not to ask for riches or even for a long life; God gave him riches also because He so loved that Solomon chose what he did. I, not being a king and so not requiring the greatest of wisdom therefore, would instead ask for humility. (Note that pride is the worst sin, but that doesn’t mean humility is the greatest virtue; it doesn’t work like that: love is the greatest virtue.) I have my reasons for my pick.

My choice comes from the experience of my life. It can be seen to be because all the problems in my life seemed to come from the lack of humility. I thought on more than one occasion that I could literally take on the world. I have thought I was bigger than Jesus. Seriously, I thought that. Harder, better, faster, stronger than Jesus of Nazareth. When he became Jesus Christ to me, that flew out the window. That required me kicking my own ass, so to speak, for thinking as I did about my comparing myself to our Lord. Blessed be his name. Also factoring in my choice, I thought it would be really neat being humble. I would think it a really cool thing to be like so humble that God would not be offended at my presence before him. Just cool beans. Yeah, parts of me are still a child.

Judas, in Light

> From this.

To believe that Judas volunteered is to acknowledge that the evangelists who wrote the Gospels changed the actual story substantively, at least partly from not knowing the actual story, and we cannot gloss over these changes. But if you think about it, this must have happened. Anyone who thinks that the Bible is absolutely coherent and consistent is working a special sort of schizophrenia. Really? It is the Jews’ fault that our Lord got crucified by the Romans? They cry, “his blood be on us and our children”? Really? And we know that the Barabbas story is almost definitely untrue, that no one was ever set free because the Jews wanted it on their holy day. The scriptures are peppered with such errors, whether they are blatant fabrications or just honest or copying mistakes.

The gospels, you realize, don’t agree how certain things happened, or in what order, so if we try to reconcile all their inconsistencies, we then create a new gospel, which certainly didn’t happen in any way that we make out. For my part, the information about Judas being innocent of history’s charges came from On High. Any attack on that idea, within the HALOSPACE, has only come from the forces of evil. Only from the darkness do I get fuel for my doubts; all light that shines upon the matter only reconfirms Judas’ lack of culpability. I still wait for a revision of it, when I’ll be told that the mainstream view is actually correct; hasn’t happened yet, and it looks like it never will. I only seem to get further confirmation of this minority report. When is it irrational not to believe the incredible? What would they say, “Two billion Christians can’t be wrong”? Except when all they’ve ever known are stories, that they mistake for history.

Love Is…

> From this.

Love is what unfolds from the desire of the heart. The rose that blooms even when the world is shrouded in snow — the kiss of immortality. It is the eagle feather which is held in solemn trust, for to call upon the Creator… Behold what presses you on in the darkest of the ways, through to the other side. It is the end of the journey, when home is found again, sometimes at a new place — for home can be known in many ways. Love is to know what is right. Do you wonder what love might be, and what love might be to you? Why do you seek after something that you can find in simplest terms, within your very grasp?

Love is everything you think it is. It can hurt you and blind you, it can make you despair, and it can frustrate your every thought and movement. But if it is love, you will find that all of whatever you have been put through is worth it. Well worth it. And what is more: you will have an idea why all of this, all you touch and all you see, is the way it is. Maybe to scry where you are drawn in the great blueprint the Builder meticulously inscribed, checked and double-checked, and to know you are not no one: you have a place, and you have a purpose. For this is love: where heaven touches down to earth, through the heart, through our intentions, and through our very hands: no one else’s, for our footsteps are the only paths that love may follow. No one else’s.


> From this.

I was given the exact signal once, or what was supposed to be it, with all that I knew or thought I knew, “One of you shall betray me.” It was a positive signal, not a damning one (as far as I could tell), to go along with the rest of all my “Judas volunteered” intel. But I know not the source of that signal; it may, in fact, have been somewhat confused. Like the existing gospels, the one that gave me the signal I believe had his own agenda in mind when he proffered it. For I know not how exactly how it must have felt for Judas to have received his cue, on that ultimate evening, that critical night.

To make sense of the innocence of Judas, whether we have a complete picture or not, at the point where he got that signal, Judas went and got his 30 pieces of silver and arranged for the Lord’s capture; or more likely, if Judas had gone to the Pharisees before that, he and the Lord must have discussed it previous to his going. I saw in my visions, after all, the symbolic interpretation of him going into that meeting. Maybe I’ll get more intel on the matter, some telling revelation that awaits the proper prompt, the proper state of mind or grace. “Judas volunteered” is a hard teaching, indeed. Like the bitter medicine this world needs to cure it of its long ignored insanity.


> From this.

In The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, there is an animal called the Babelfish. Placed in the ear, the effect is to translate any language heard into the one you speak. Such an animal is deemed to be so useful it is the proof of the non-existence of God (it removes faith from the equation, and without faith God is nothing, the joke goes). In my thinking, music is like the Babelfish. (There are other things, but this is number one on our survey.) How is it that we can enjoy music? How does blind evolutionary process bring about attuning to certain sequences of tone? Its only purpose seems to be the conveyance of emotion, if it has anything like a practical application at all. We don’t need it to survive. Diplomatic treaties and instruction manuals are not written in musical notes. (Maybe they should be, to convey the spirit of the document all the better.)

It is a stunning coincidence. Can we look at this, and all that which is fortunate in our existence — how long until it becomes irrational not to believe in a higher pattern? Because music makes one question what “coincidence” actually may be.

We of science have believed that we are a run of the mill planet revolving a rather ordinary star, in an average position in our galaxy, which is itself nothing to write home about. This makes me think of the researcher who averaged the faces of serial killers and when he did so, came up with a more attractive face than all his inputs. If you “average”, he found, one comes up with beauty. How long will the white coats ignore that what they call “average” is what they mistake beauty for? And coincidence? Do not such phenomena deserve a different word? Those who believe God is luck, and not that God is love. Maybe that’s the paradigm shift they should be working on — from selling God short. Eggheads, before you try to absolve other people’s ignorance, start with the man in the mirror.


The Great Blasphemy