It's The End of the World! . . . Part 17

  Just kidding about the "part 17" up in the header. I used to write these things out longhand (on graph paper) and circulate a few to friends in person. Normally, I would pass out some (ten or twelve?) to folks as they were heading into church. Years ago, there was this old guy named Edgar, and he would hand a copy of the church bulletin to people as they came into the sancuary. He died of natural causes, and for some reason or another; I took over for him.

  I can't really say just why I do the job. I describe it as; "I've got to go stand around and pretend I like people". But, however the position became (more or less) mine, it was a great choke point in the traffic flow. Some people at minimum pretended to enjoy reading Crazy Pants Essays in those days. I figured it wouldn't do them any harm at least.

  So anyhow, back in those days; there were several of the  papers which were titled "End Of The World!" . . . part 3 or 5 or whatever. I just choose a number. There are not 16 more of these monsters floating around somewhere! But please do not think that in these we intend to mock or minimize the importance of the eschathon. No, it is far more like a church I vaguely recall in Albuquerque years ago advertising thus: "You can hold the Scriptures in one hand, and todays' newspaper in the other; and actually see (!) prophecy being fulfilled! Come to the XYZ conference, as Pastor Bob teaches us how".

  It is that sort of thing I hoped to blow out of the water with some humor on the topic.

 Now, we will not overly tax your patience with some plan, or scenario about some proposed "millenium". The short version is that there are "pre" (two flavors), "a", and "post" (about nine flavors). Of the many "post-mill" spins, I (willy-nilly) toss in the "preterist" speculations, and don't get me started on that! The short version please? My take on the millenium runs; "Millenium? What millenium? Where, ever; did you get that idea?". This makes me (I think) an "a" which is pronounced "ahh", as in ah-ha!

  The short and sweet a-mill position lines up with several of the Messiahs' parables, but the one I have in mind is the wheat and tares (go look it up). So, both the kingdom of God, and the kingdom of man are present on earth until a rude interruption from outside earth ends the story. As the bad are getting worse, also true the good are gaining traction, and "doing exploits". Both develop simultaneously, and are directionally opposed, got it? So this is "where" this C.P.E. is "coming from".

  This essay is spawned at least in part, by my recent viewing of "The Age of Ultron", the latest installment of the Avengers series. This is not a movie review, but it did seem striking (to me at least) that some of the sub-texts of the film were near matches to the regular day dreaming that I do. Plus that, it was on the same day that I went for a ten or twelve mile walk, and concluded (prior to the viewing) that AI cannot possibly be a good cultural developement.

  This Artificial Intelligence theme I was taught to lowball as a probability by my software genius friends Dave and Larry. In brief, a binary switching (on and off, one and zero) cannot ever, ever "come alive". The logic and the instructions of the program assign adding and subtracting tasks, at a high rate of speed, but under no circumstance can such ever become "aware". This would be true it appears to all binary switching. But, neither of my friends was speaking of "Quantum Computing" either.

  I do not pretend to grasp the theory or practice of qc, but in brief, it breaks the rule of two. One guy descibes it as a tri-phasic process. As such, it might yield a yes, a no, and a maybe. The valuation could be one or zero, or "both or neither". This is an entirely different scheme than what we are used to. And importantly (for the purposes of this essay), such a new tech solution might (one day), prove basic to an actual functioning AI device.

  Now, as an aside; I would suggest that you go read "That Hideous Strength" sometime soon. The extremely abbreviated version is that a 1950s era story features a machine with tubes (remember those?), levers, knobs and lights. That would be the quantum device in question. In the story, a decapitated head provides the mapping protocol, the directional processing occurs via established brain pathways. But, in the Lewis story, the thing cannot come to life until a "bent eldil" inhabits the contraption. Somehow, C.S. Lewis saw what I see, or vice-versa. In order for the final blasphemy to arise, a "three-ist" structure must fuse tri-disparate legs. 

  We get a proposed device, but that is not enough. The processing must follow routes of coherent and recognizable thinking, so a human mind becomes the template. But that is not enough, because we are still talking about a bunch of wires and circuits. For such to actually "live"; there must be a spirit, and the Father of spirits would never assign one of His own into such a monstrosity. Therefore, a kind of demonically "inspired" habitation is required.

  Now, before we move on I would like to interject an idea which has arisen somewhere else amid these essays. We like to imagine ourselves as modern and sophisticated, very unlike our simple and primitive ancestors who worshipped blocks of wood or statues. 

  This is a highly biased premise of ours, in that what was actually going on then was a magical interface, a mediated contact. The goal of ancient priests was to "chain or bind" a spirit to a place and an object via incantation and blood sacrifice. The petitioner approached the idol and asked of it, but that thing (the idol itself) was an "inefficient telephone" to communicate with the entity which resided (was bound to) "in" it. The basic problem of the occult then, is that you do sometimes get results! So, the artifact, plus the priest plus the oppressive ancient entity operating via the array is not (definitely not!) a new idea. The main difference I discuss today is signal strength, clarity of contact and the continual rather than intermittant nature of the "animal". But, let's return to the movie for a moment eh?

  The Age of Ultron (more accurately, the two and a half weeks of Ultron) touched upon some of these themes. But watching the film is akin to drinking from a firehose. Too much is happening, too many witty and zany lines are spoken. No, it's not there we look. The movie has a theme which I have been mulling over for nearly thirty years.

  The only way to get warring mankind to finally or ultimately unite is by a dreadful enough common enemy. Simply said, a threat from outside the world is the only working human motive which would be powerful enough to overcome our constant sniping at, and destruction of; each other. So for a true "End of the World!" scenario to logically function, the return of the Captain at the head of His armies must be viewed as a true threat, a dire future indeed! Of course, such a ploy would never mention Him by name, (except to the inner circle) and instead a proposed "alien invasion" is my guessed-at future strategy proposed to the "masses". Frankly, I spend altogether too much time (usually around dinner time) mulling this over, so trying to see better. This threat incoming (no mention of Messiah), the movie writer got pretty much correct it seems to me. The metaphor is dual in the flick. A very heavy object crashing in from above is one angle, and also, a foreseen (privately) threat alternative to, and far worse than the big rock, is the idea in the film.

  In brief, the prophecies about the un-man indicate this kind of duality. No one can (effectively) war upon him, (Ultron dressed up as the anti-christ) He is the dropper of the rock, and through dread of him earth is prepared for a much much worse danger "from above". He (Ultron) is the threat, and simultaneously ensign of a far greater danger-coming. 

  Interestingly, the prophet spoke also of a three, the beast, the false prophet and "the image built, which speaks". So, we derive a man like Hawking or some other genius type being the template. The false prophet (computer designer) does the mapping of the genius brain so to configure the "circuitry of the (itself) three-ist machine". The device speaks, but not of itself, for that voice is the voice of the dragon.

  So, it could be, we surmise; a working possibility sometime during our "natural lifetimes" (whatever that is) that such tech could produce  something along these lines? But recall that C.S. Lewis "saw" this sort of thing sixty-plus years ago. He died the same day that JFK was murdered. So, there is a "stretchy" time feature to this sort of speculation. The tech-flubs, boneheaded mistakes and the usual dead ends do not work by our schedule. It could take another century and more to build the final blasphemy, this "new creature" which the foe proposes. Or it could be here in less than twenty? I just don't know about the clock function in this type of thing.

  What we do know is the theme, the narrative and the finale. In brief, it reads; "God wins . . . bigtime slamdunk!". The enemy is simply forced into an idol-strategy of some kind. Since ancient days, the interface project has been his recurring plan of operation, because it is the only route open to him. 

  Do you see? The genuine artice, of which that fraud the anti-christ is stupidly trying to best, that real deal is unbreakably sound! Christ is joined to mankind, that the "new man" be joined to the Almighty. The results of that astounding transformation coming in us, are not at this point imaginable, but we do have some hints. We understand in part, but then we shall fully know.

  The New Man has a human body and a rational soul. As such, He is "One with God", and nothing is impossible for Him. He passes through walls like we pass through the air. He speaks, and life returns, He touches and the blind see. But He is not a one of a kind exactly, but rather; the First of many! We "are one with" Him! So, to what extent in the age to come, extraordinary powers manifest in His folk, I am in no position to guess, but I do guess, almost every night at dinner time!

  The dream of transit of the heavens, flying to worlds unknown, even our hymn writers buy that much. But here is the point, the eschaton coming, is come! We have (today!) become junior partners in a never ending dance with the Bridegroom, and I guess He shall teach us some fancy steps indeed in future days. Already, we are noticing alarming differences between the two races. 

  The living are freed to courageously die, and the dead are terrified to get near the grave. The living sing songs of gladness in the darkness, awaiting the true light, and the dead are never truly happy. These are small but yet astonishing fruits of His already-operating in/with us.

  We have been sheared off from a huge catastrophe, the certainty of Judgement! The devils? They are hammered dog-meat in that coming overthrow, and they know it. There is zero hope for them, and their rage is great because of it, their time is short. But the humans can (yet!) be turned out of that path! The link, the union He has established, is a rich and never ending source of vitality, of welcome and of understanding. It is a life fully good and grand, with no terminus!

  The miserable hatchet job mockup of this, which the enemy proposes, cannot begin to equal the real deal. And this is why eschatology is really so important. That coming-age has arrived, it has commenced, and there is no authority in heaven, earth and hell combined which can reverse it! An eschatology of hope is a meaningless phrase unless we define the word "hope".

  Our coming transformation is certain for the excellent reason that it has already fully occurred in our Head, and begun in our bodies! He the fully transformed, is permanently "moving in" with us! And we are being rebuilt in that image. The everlasting and infinite God, is today and evermore also a Man (or more correctly, The Man) and that (already and not-yet) one-ness with Him, is going to be a mighty and wild and good thing, Yes-Siree!

  Hope has meaning because He Who Is (our hope) is alive and well, having busted out of the tomb, there is no going back to it . . . ever!

  For Him, or (one day) for us! So says the plumber.

The Plenum

  It is too bad that you can't get inside my head. If you could, we could save a great deal of time. This C.P.E. is a difficult one to discuss because a mental state can only be indirectly described. So be it.
  If words were oranges, then we would know just the right ones to use. Think of a navel orange, one of those big juicy and sweet ones. Now imagine trying to verbally describe the flavor to someone who has never tasted an orange. Or how would you go about correctly describing, to a man born blind; that royal blue which appears briefly in a clear sky overhead, just after the sun goes down?
  It seems to me then, that a shared context and parallel sampling are our usual methods so to direct the attention of others to the point in which they say; "Ah! I know just what you are talking about.", otherwise it remains pretty tough sledding.
  Often (it seems to me), when we are thinking about the state of mind of another person, we are actually referring to a state of emotion. Yesterday, a woman was going berserk because our plumbing crew was "making noise". She was irrational, angry, loud and rude. We did not inquire as to her mental state at all (inferring that she is insane), and focused almost entirely upon her tirade of anger. This sort of estimating is more or less normal I would guess, humanly speaking.
  Of the mental states I recall hearing described, such as confusion or clarity there is enough experience with my own mind to be able to more or less grasp the idea. The plenum (my descriptive term coinage) is another type of mind state, and the only similarities which pop up in the vocabulary today are in the "mystical"; category-wise.
  I certainly do not think of myself as a "mystic", and so there appears to be an orange type of problem involved in this essay. Whether I surmount the difficulty is up to you to judge.
  Have you ever read any "awareness" type of literature? I have looked over a few things, and a word which frequently bobs to the surface is "oceanic".
  I have never been on a boat in an ocean, but have stood by the shore a few times. There is a kind of noise, and there are motions and colors at the seashore which (in me at least) induce a very calmed and yet "ready" state of mind. It is an "up" similar to caffeine, minus the jitters and excessive talk. If you know what I am talking about, then you might agree that it seems at oceanside as if one doesn't need sleep, or one is in a repose better than a nap? Does any of this ring a bell for you?
  The plenum is similar in some facets to an oceanic, but not precisely so. If you were to compare the flavor of ripe cantaloupe, as a known; with that of a tree ripened peach as an unknown that might serve as a parallel? The plenum is something I find myself "in" occasionally. It is an awareness yes, but I generally distrust urges or imperatives which tell us to "raise awareness" in any case, so that is a dead end.
  In my book, there is nothing special about being aware. This can only mean that one is temporarily unaware elsewhere! When you stub your toe in the middle of the night, your awareness is quickly raised sure enough. But in those moments, you are (by definition) deeply unaware of the vast screaming majority of everything else. So, if awareness is a Boyscout flashlight, then we typically move it about in the dark in order to notice now this feature of the real, and next that one. The premise that we can and ought (morally?) raise awareness generically speaking has just never made much sense to me. But, there is an aspect of the plenum which also rings this bell . . . lightly.
  The feel of the state of mind might trigger words such as "transported", but that seems a bit iffy. "Here and not there", so to go from one to the other is not actually that acccurate a telling.
  So, perhaps we could get Mark Twain to sit down with John Calvin for a cup of coffee? The story teller meeting with the man-giant, so to speak; might be the gist?
  A recurring theme in my writing and thinking is the meta-story which theoretically could arise if Mark Twain ever met one of his own characters. The idea of cognition such that Huck or Tom realize (somehow) that Twain is their author and that they have never done and shall never do anything "not written" fuses with their memory of having "freely chosen" their deeds. It would be a tough book to write, that much is certain! But, this crosslinking function of John Calvin vigorously defending the "destinating" of the "pre" variety, comes into play; just here. Simply, what if the Twain type of scenario is in fact the reality of which we partake? If so, what then describes this fruition of insight (outsight?) in terms of human language? I am calling that "The Plenum".
  How many times I have entered this mind state in the past is really just a few. When a tyke is yet small enough for the Dad to hoist him up overhead, the little guy is being carried, and he remembers that. The idea of "carry" seems like a good enough way to convey this to you.
  You are somewhere where there is "much busy", call it walking beside a crowded highway, or attending a colorful and loud football game. Recall the seaside with the constant motion, color and sound. You are "there" and not there. A kind of "lift" occurs. And one of the problems of the oceanic description is a mention of "timeless". That is not this mind state at all, but rather a kind of effortless swinging to the rhythm of the seconds as they pass? The plenum is not "disorienting" in the least, but rather a rooting down, a real and solid orientation briefly enjoyed.
  The mind state never lasts very long it appears to me, but yet remains quite memorable. It becomes like a breadcrumb left on the trail which can be viewed from miles further down the road? If you have any memories of sitting snugly in your mothers' lap, as she pointed out words to you in a childrens' book (I have one or two), it is a bit like that. You are learning, you are grasping ahold of the patterns and connections of the actual world, by using a mirror of it.
  There is nothing infallible or permanent about such connections, a small boy both understands "everything" and not at all, at the same time. We are larger and older, that's all. No, I am not talking about some type of guru-like last word from heaven kind of thing here. It is more like the difference between reading a driving manual, and doing the driving yourself. Suddenly the rules which were memorized "come to life". And with all this said, I shall now atttempt to describe from "inside the plenum".
  Lifted now, I see. There are persons, the flags are waving, the noises of cars and birds and children giggling, I detect. All of the motions, of all of the atoms, just here in this moment in time were written beforehand. Every aspect which I can notice, plus all of the others; were more than "predicted", they were decreed!
  Each beat of each heart, each flash of smiles between friends, every eye following the focal points of range, this entire thing is a kind of "drama"! The Playwright has built the sets, written the lines, laid out the plot, and also, (and also!) each character feels very strongly that all which they do is because they have so chosen, and so it is! The plenum informs thus, that free will and destiny were never foes, but glad partners in a strangely eccentric dance.
  One partner outweighs the other by an infinite range, and the dance is merry indeed. One Partner calls all of the steps, writes all of the dialog, and the other spontaneously joins in. I hope I am speaking clearly for you, so to grasp the concept?
  The plenum is that state of mind, after lift in which we briefly grasp that this high level awareness is not really about the activity about us at all. We have a moment, a shining wink of time in which we turn to the Master of the play, and so to speak "introduce" ourselves! The plenum is an awareness yes, and we are aware also of the Twain entering to speak with the Huck. But this conversation in the plenum, is also of the plenum. That is, this lifted moment is part of the pattern preset, and for a whisker of time, even I can see it! The plenum lift was decreed prior to things, and in it, we are freed to thank the Author, in person!
  A gift is a gift, and the youngster who so enjoyed the brief hour with Mom "learning all about things" is not in a position to make demands. That is, we cannot (at least I can't) summon, we cannot make the plenum "happen again" at our own direction.
  On a dark and moonless night, the flash of lightning off in the distance allows in a fraction of time, the view of "everything", and then dark returns. I did not make the light flash, but I can (more or less) navigate afterwards upon the basis thereof. The plenum shares some similarity with lightning in this sense.
  The problems with mysticism are many, but the main one of which I object to, is the premise that in this sort of mindset we see that "all is one". Hogwash!
  The uncountable aspects of everything which is just this second occurring each remain distinct. If image we want here, then the wildly differing man to woman being shaped into a new harmony would serve far better. The plenum is much more a feast at a marriage supper, with all the guests and the banners and the music and dance. Somehow The Author conspired from prior to things to "join" not only them to them, but them to Him!
  That is, there is a hugeness, an alarming aspect here. When a second grade girl sets her sights on a second grade boy, and boldly announces that one day they shall marry, the boy has the option to beat feet and get lost pronto!
  But this joining which we speak of here, this lifting does not have an "escape clause", and as such, is the original arranged marriage.
  At this time of our development, we are unable to say with any pungent clarity what the joining will (one day) "be like". This (I think) is because we have it backwards. It will not be like anything we know, for the excellent reason that everything of which we know, is but vague whispers and hints of it! The original versus the copy directs us away from finding what the original "is like", rather; the copy is only a bit like it.
  To describe a three ring circus to a three year old as; "It will be like when you jump up and down on your bed" would be entirely misleading. But after having gone to the circus together, you might say; "You little acrobat, you are just like the tumblers we saw last night!", and that would be correct (enough for now).
  That is, the plenum is directional. Like time, it flows one way, and it brings to mind occasionally that there is an omega point, a goal to which things and persons are being directed. The plenum then is a bit like a dress rehearsal, a finding of the steps, a reciting of the lines, with solid conviction that we are learning such; for good cause!
  Our schools flounder, and our students end up confused in the study of things which will never again in their lives have any application. The plenum is the opposite end of that spectrum. Our ancestors taught their young to plant and to harvest, to aim and to shoot, not for love of trivia but to raise them up into the order of adult life. The plenum is that . . . on steroids.
  Some folks speak of mountaintop experiences, and perhaps that would be the overlap in your experience, so to better grasp the plenum? The problem I have with the term is that such episodes appear to me to be discussing an emotional release, a peace and joy. Gosh, who could be opposed to that anyhow? But, the plenum is a mind thing much moreso.
  We are suddenly astounded when we first realize that the Father Almighty actually does hear us when we call for help. Why are we surprised? And in my opinion, it is the busy-ness, it is our getting lost in details which is so completely normal for us, that we begin to surmise that; "Nobody is out there".
  We begin to believe the lies we tell ourselves;  that (for instance) the insane woman "needs medication", and not an hour in her Papas' lap as He reads the words aloud, pointing at each in sequence. We confound self-talk with conversation, and we lose the delight in hearing from the Other.
  The plenum restores delight!
  If you could get inside my head (it would be a tight squeak) then you would know what I discuss. But until that day, trust me as a friend; we not so much find, as are found. We not so much know, as are known. And we are more and more coming to know this.
  And to know that we are embraced!

Gee Whizmo! (Date unknown)

  Thinking back some, and reflecting upon these essays; I have noticed something. Rarely (if ever), do they discuss the cultural "gee-whiz factor". I think you know what I mean.
  Back in the 60s, we were regularly treated to a "march of progress" type of material. One venue for it was "documentaries", and there were also plenty of books published to boost the concept. It was a premise that "this generation" is seeing changes in science, technology, earning power and education which are unlike any previous. Progress (whatever that is) was "marching" indeed, and the wonders of our age yadda yadda yadda were in some special sense forming a kind of distinctiveness to the "modern age" which shamed all of our ancestors' doings.
  I was never really that impressed by such talk, but when you listen to old people talking about farming using teams of horses, and how exciting it was when electricity came to the county, we begin to realize something. Techno-change, machines, then electricity; followed by aircraft and orbital space craft all sequencing in a three generational period; is pretty odd historically speaking.
  When gee-whizism actually began I wouldn't know. The use of steam power began in earnest about two centuries ago. Internal combustion engines are a century-plus old. I am old enough to have been "wowed" by jet aircraft. But all of these combined cannot begin to compete "change-wise" with the digital revolution, nor with the sciences as they plot out genomes for instance. Some people speculate that we may see genuine "artificial intelligence" and physical immortality manifesting in under 50 years?
  The; "Gosh, what are they going to think of next?" type of thought appears to be getting swamped lately by simply a glut, a regular torrent of innovation tech-wise. The rate of change is changing dramatically!
  Reading these C.P.E.s, one might (correctly) guess that I frankly just don't much care about such stuff. Instead, what interests me is that across the culture there appears to be an "inevitable" aspect. There is an unquestioning acceptance and a blind embrace of "progress, and of all things modern". It is an oddity worth investigating to me; that folks endorse "progress", and never once think to inquire "where" it is heading!
  Hey, I'm just a lowly blue collar working stiff, a mere construction worker. I am just another termite in the nest, but even I take a look occasionally at the blueprints to find out what it is, that we are so very busy building. With all the digital doo-dads employed, with all of the new materials to build with, with all of the excitement over the project as it "goes up", how come nobody seems to know what the structure is, or its' purpose? And I have found that if you are silly enough to ask what all the "new platforms are for", you get a sneer, a dose of derision, or worse; no answer at all . . . dialtone time.
  Oddly indeed, not only does the question remained unanswered, the asking is treated as if some "Roberts Rules of Order" moderator has already deemed such to be "obviously out of order". Now, my interest is really peaked, this "not-saying" makes things so much more interesting! Clearly then, we are dealing with a "blind spot", and those are always tons of fun.
  Offhand, I would guess that the classic blind spot of modernism . . . would be (ahem) "modern"! The premises of such may be many, but the central axel is that we; "the mods" have (amazingly enough!) dispensed with "myth".
  In order to grasp mod thinking; just listen to what is said about myth. In usage, it is a synonym for "a lie". But way beyond being simply an untruth, myth is unfit for mature adults. So then, only congenital idiots, children or "primitives" buy into myth from this perspective. Far contrary to the pathetic numbskullery of myth; we "the sophisticated" have done away with the dependancy and immaturity in ourselves. In brief, we have "evolved".
  Even a child could see that what is meant by such talk, is that the myths which our ancestors lived by, simply are not the same as ours. But in "living-by" axioms, those become (defacto) the current mythos. Furthermore, the arrogant folly of assuming that our (currrent) myth is not classsifiable as myth means something quite obvious.
  Obviously, the myth of "progress from primitive to (us)" has been swallowed hook, line and sinker! Witness the emotional outrage, the shunning and loss of position for a tenured professor who offers even the mildest of challenges to the "orthodoxy" of Darwinism. The modern myth speaks volumes just here.
  Said dogma proposes a "slope up" as the very bedrock of knowledge and truth. Now, never mind for the nonce that such a slope would be an entirely meaningless one if chance plus time equals reality. We shall allow the mods the luxury of their thieving of the concept of "high versus low" for now.
  Using it, we get a cosmology and an anthropology which is "uppish" generally speaking. Gases "tend" to form solids, and such solids "usually" spontaneously combust into stable fusion reactions. Dust "migrates" into orbit about these, and "often forms" planets. Water (from who knows where?) "attracts" amino acids which "occasionally" rearrange into life. Said primitive goo "struggles" up the "chain of being" into life; first as amoebas, then guppies, trout, dinosaurs and lemmings. Well, what with one thing and another, these uppity organisms just don't know when to quit, and "naturally" become gorillas and then you and me. The "modern" mind buys this type of moonshine by the metric ton! And if "all is from chaos to order" then (of course!) what the termite builder wants a look-see at, is the blueprint for the "next step up".
  Now, this man to super-man theory is obviously a religious doctrine, and cannot possibly be denied as part of the modern myth. Yet, modernism is dead set against religion. I think that this is due to the historical connections made with its' application in the Third Reich. As such, it is not a topic for polite audiences. But supposing for a moment that it even makes a little sense to think that a chance plus time randomness produced us, then our sense of "right and proper" and thus of "progress" itself; are clearly products of chance. An egg fell on the floor. So what? And if by mere happenstance, we have come to fancy one thing over another, how so the; "Poof, it becomes universally valid" gig? Okay, let us play along in this game for a few minutes.
  Let us pretend that if you orbit a C-5A long enough over the plains of India, and continue to randomly toss bricks out the tail end (for long enough), that you will eventually build the Taj Mahal. How is it that such a structure could ever be deemed (importantly!) "better" than the rest of the debris of the experiment? Debris in stacks is still debris, and what can be made of that?
 And I'd say that the "what" in question, is that "mod-new-man" is destined for the stars, and that stack of bricks down there is none other than a superluminal craft! The object being built is an ark to flee our world before the earth dies! People believe this, it is their religion.
  So, the next obviousness to the modern myth is thereby "clock pressure". Moderns are nothing at all, if not hurried. Most of the current behavior of human-kind is impossible to decode minus a clock function. We are on a deadline down here, and the project we build "must go up soon"! This feature is part of why we find it so dreadfully interesting that the rate of change is changing, and why the speeding up of innovation is so very intoxicating for us. The logo involved here is the "countdown", and surely very modern; that! Likewise, the doom and gloom of "warming globes" urges us onward, away and off planet before "it is too late!".
  In this religion, we require no Savior for we are are own saviors, and the deliverance we promise is a flight from a doomed world. Uhm, why would it be "important" for hairless apes which arose by chance in the first place to continue to exist? Why would that be a "good thing" to have happen, especially considering that we were the ones (supposedly) responsible for the demise of our home, and also the ones who invented the notion of "good" randomly ourselves? Why spread this cancer called "man" to other worlds? A meaningless and malignant growth, nothing but a tumor, but you gotta admit; it's BIG!
  So, we are thus deriving an upwardly mobile organism which is a world burner. This aggregation of randomness is on a deadline to escape the rewards of its' own doings, and how shall that be done? Why "narually", with panache, swagger and verve it goes! Pointless it is, but to be carried out with style and flair.
  That is, the third aspect of the mod man is a love of wealth, of fame and notoreity. Power and money and sex appeal all with a "fan-base", there we see modernity. Thereby, our "mission to the stars" features our own homegrown stars. Ophrah, the Beiber and Kanye West become astronauts (so to speak) in this system, We "propel them upward", and so character and loyalty and courage mean zip in this mode. Instead, being flamboyant, loud and obnoxious (provided the "risee" is rich!) is in this case an "asset".
  When I was a kid, being a millionaire was pretty hot stuff. Nowadays, we yawn at mere billionaires eagerly awaiting the worlds' first trillionaire! And if that person turns out to be just another vulgar rap-star, or crooked politician, all the better! So the mod-myth is proposing a fame at any cost. In this system, the soul is definitely for sale, and such power as this is thought to be unassailable. It is the best kind of "safe and secure" in that it is pre-disastered! It is already condemned, and so nothing worse "could" happen! This is the shape of the mod brainwave as I see it.
  So then, those outmoded and "primitive" ideas of sin or of indecency are the new taboo. We the evolved, are way too "sophisticated" for such as that! Sin is the norm in the mod myth, and so there is no shame in being found out as a liar, there is no sanction against corruption, for the "big-new-man" is "far above" such petty concerns . . .
  So, let us step back for a moment and fit the key into the lock. We will open this door, and see if any of this mod-myth ties back into the "outmoded and primitive" myth of the past.
  Our spontaneously combusting organism which "tends upward" wishes to flee to the stars does he? And furthermore, this is on a clock-based fear of a coming crash of the system eh? This evolved-one thinks he cannot be condemned because he spurns all standards of kindness and humble friendship does he? Hmm, have we heard something of this sort before somewhere?
  How very interesting! The ancient way also spoke of this very thing. A Warrior Champion coming with "armies of bright ones" to shatter the world, this; the dire threat of those days. And to escape this calamity, the (lookee!) lowly and simple are lifted to the heavens. How's about them apples? The ancient way spoke of man purposely forgetting his origin, and inventing foolish stories to substitute for it, so that they would not be bound by conscience to his Mighty Maker. How flukey is that anyhow, all these parallels?
  That path taught that wicked man beside being a liar, is a thief and he tries to hijack the excellencies above as if he had invented them all. It was as if he were the one to determine all on his own; high from low, good from evil; and true from false. Isn't that a remarkable coincidence? The tycoon sheltering in his palace from the storm, the "stars" (high ones) fleeing from the wrath coming. It certainly appears that all of this material has been "borrowed without permission" to this termite.
  I see it thisaway as one termite speaking to another. The true gee-whizmo isn't really the race using all of its' wits to build "safety" in that coming day. The actual and authentic Gee(sus) Whizmo is the one shelter which He has built with His blood and body. The "true Ark" far more certain than Noahs' boat, the "true Blood" above the doorposts to ward off the angel of destruction, this the actual gee-whizmo. See the True Son and Inheritor of all; freely sharing of His riches with beggars, this is the stunner! This is the "remarkable development" of history, for it happened one day on a miserable hill.
  And in that day, lifted up with Him we shall be, we the lowly, we the nobodies, and in that day; sprinting to other worlds bearing glad tidings indeed.
  "The Mighty Maker . . . is become a (The) Creature! He, sitting upon His emerald throne, dwells bodily upon our re-made home-world, come and see!" The true New-Man, forged in union with a mighty host of the glad (and friendly!). They (we, I mean) shall then move worlds, and dance upon the air shouting the fury of love in the brilliance of His fierce welcome.
  And they shall shout; "Thank You Sir!".
  That glad throng clad in immortality, light and joy will only "have eyes for" the One who loved them, and gave Himself for them.
  So now, who is "the primitive"?

Fb Annex A1

  There is some sort of protocol it appears over in Facebook-land. It is not a formal thing, but to some extent we do have a time limit, or perhaps a word limit in place. Have you ever read any posts in fb that exceed a few pages in length? I don't know how to describe the feel of it, but a kind of rudeness or impropriety lurks around in my brain when reading longish items over in that format. So then, we affirm that there is an unspoken unseemliness to essay length responses to; "What up?".
  One of my friends on fb posted something like: "How do you express emotion and feelings without ridicule? A question I've asked for years."
  I responded with; "I am not certain that I understand the question. Do you mean #1 "How can emotion be expressed, and one not receive ridicule from others?", or do you mean #2 "How can one express emotion without simultaneously also expressing ridicule?".
  He indicated that the former was at issue, and I asked for an example. He sent back; "Oh wait, here is one, a depressed person says they want to die and wish it would all just stop. The responding person basically calls the hurt person a baby, or a bitch, or some genital reference that essentially means weak or useless".
  I responded that I would mull it over some, and send back later a response if I could think of one. The problem is that the response appears to require an essay for length and breadth, and so it would be an unseemly entry indeed over in the fb universe. So then, I deem that this particular C.P.E. shall function today as an annex to that other part of the cyber-universe. So there!
  There are at least two issues which crop up right away in my brainstem when thinking along the lines of why-so, of how-come people express hostility, or ridicule or disbelief when a person expresses emotion.
  But before we go there, the disclaimer here is that my basic "take" on emotion and or weakness (when detected in myself at least) has historically been to symbolically or spiritually shoot it in the head. For years (well actually, for decades), I was the world's worst emotional guy, and did not even try to get any good at being emotional, or expressing feel.
  It just was never on my "to do list".
  Furthermore, I find it not a little revolting to have certain (un-named) slobs grousing about "transparency". It makes me want to puke, for the simple reason that such is manifestly NOT transparent in the least! To say; "I struggle against desires to destroy myself and everything else", may turn out to be "transparent" (I don't care if it is, or not), but to agitate for mere "transparency" instead is very clearly a manipulative hiding, an hypocritical "saying but not doing" kind of thing in my book.
  And also, that much being said, the exact reverse is also true! I have often used "the sense of" or "the aroma of" things, in order to describe. In practice, I use feel all of the time, but only very very rarely, is same employed to mean "feeling about myself". Is all this quite clear for you? "Clear as mud", you say? Very well then, let us move on!
  Well, I am glad at any rate that the topic did arise, because I have been trying for days to cobble together a weird C.P.E., somewhat along these lines and was just stuck. I had gone off into a mental cul-de-sac. It was something all about language usage, and specialized expert patterns which we employ, and I could not figure out how to get back to the main idea; which is clearly depression!
  Part of that not written essay of the crazy pants flavor was to assault our normal Christian usage of the word. For example, our church right now is featuring a six week class on "depression". I don't think I will attend. And one of the main reasons is one of the two items that I intend to discuss below. In brief, it is that there is a very valuable truth to be had in being "down".
  Whether the person who is depressed is myself or another, two things come to the surface fairly quickly, but this first one is a "keeper".
  So, the first thing which we notice right off is the one which my friend mentions. There is a harshness, a "shut your face" kind of drill which I employ upon myself when I am down. And in my opinion, we normally deploy same toward others also. The philosophical problem at stake here is that the depressed one is uttering a universal condemnation.
  In myself, it usually sounds something like; "It just doesn't matter what I do, nothing really matters anyhow. I am just tired of being exhausted and doing pointless things for people whom I don't like". Very badly, we want off of the merry-go-round-from-hell which has no meaning. The entire exercise if futile and destructive, if it is built upon a lie, and satisfies nobody, why keep doing it?
  But, that assessment itself is also a lie, in that the sound of it is "as-if" I personally have conducted a thorough and exhaustive search. As-if I have inspected all facts, all options and all history and have thus deduced that there is no meaning available, and thus any efforts to make sense of things is technically a waste of time. But clearly, clearly, no such search was ever conducted. My assertion is false. Now it may remain true in any case that no hope of meaning exists, but my claim to have done the search is obviously an empty one. So then, I think that our usual response number one is to simply shut down depression as a logical falacy, based upon a presumed (and flawed) position.
  It certainly is understandable, and of course, this strategy never works! It is our human standard operating practice and as such, makes a bad situation . . . worse!
  One of the reasons that it never works is that if one is thereby challenged to produce some inherently meaningful aspect of things either at large, or in particular, the answers come back uniformly "flat or shallow". If ones' heart is in the process of falling to pieces, such "medicine" simply inflames the sore. "Cheer-up" is tremendously depressing to hear!
  The sounds of this sort of approach are more or less; "Well, there is your family to consider, what about them? And don't forget, you are young, your whole life is before you". This attempt to minimize the sorrow and grief over what a mess I have made of things, only serves to point out that in addition to a general and particular meaninglessness at large, I am also an ungrateful jerk to boot?
  Thanks.
  Generally speaking then, to try to cheer up a depressed person usually just starts another fight. True enough, that fighting might itself help pull someone temporarily "out" of the dark, but it is also a huge giveaway that there is something we are just not discussing here.
  I remain quite firm in my belief that "negativity" is itself not necessarily a negative thing. If you were dealing with a lifelong drunkard who also loved laughing gas, who was hooked on adrenaline rushes, and pushing black pepper up his nose so to convulsively sneeze; if such a person, was always and always seeking to find a distraction, a buzz, a fury (an anything at all!), and he suddenly woke up one day without the buzz, without the clutter and the busy-ness which he always and always uses to "not see something", if that person wakes up depressed, I am all for it! Pardon the run-on sentence while you are at it!
  For once, for a twenty minute spell amid a months long jag of "substances"; for 1200 seconds; the man can see? Who in their right mind could be "against" that? Sure, what he sees is "dark and depressing" so what? It is real, and I (for one) say; that makes all the difference! For a few minutes I can actually see that my usual chemical bombs of nicotine, caffeine and sugar only cause me to talk too much. They are no "cure" at all for hopelessness. For less than a half hour, I am actually able to notice that my shuck and jive, my tap-dancing with words to amuse others (whom I do not like) is indeed a hollow and useless thing which only adds testimony against me, besides irritating them? This is a keeper!
  That is; the truth of depression is that I ought feel this way at least occasionally. Down is but the opposite end of up, and neither can answer the basic question involved. My strategies to cope-by are (let's face it) junk, and can do nobody (including myself) any real good. To see them as empty is to see them as they are! And this is the entirely valid point of depression which we get right. Keeper!
  There is no "cure", no chipper and invigorating "up" message can even begin to make a dent here. Such "up-talk" only makes things worse. Depression is about what is true in us. We really and truly are are vapid, and mean. We actually do blunder by endorsing nonsense, in my case nearly all the time! Depression sees this in us, and says; "There is no hope". And considered strictly from "in here" we are right to so say!
  Our problem with dealing with this sort of assessment, is that it is both true, and simultaneously insufficient. That is, our grasp of truth means that we hang onto it (we must!), but we rather tend to forget that this very same grasp of the true is built upon a fragment or section of the stuff, never the entirety thereof.
  So; "for the depressed person to to say that they want to die and wish that it would all just stop", as my friend mentions, the correct response is a kind of "two-fer". In the first place, you are seeing entirely correctly to so adjudge things, and so, ought be commended for your deep sanity. Alternately, you ought be informed of something, and is a "something in your face" which remains quite odd once we notice it.
  In short; if meaning did not mean anything, if significance was just a pointless blip of static on a statistical screen of noise, then for us to "miss it" would be deeply irrational indeed. But it remains entirely rational! What then?
  If we attempted to deal with air in a similar fashion to the way we do with meaning, we might wonder at it more. "Air, is simply an evolutionary hiccup which our ancestors (foolishly) believed kept them alive. In fact, a paternalist bias informs here, and we all need to get over our 'airist' bias and prejudices". Newsflash, in order to destroy air in this fashion . . . requires air!
  We cannot "get over" the premise that life was to have meant something, nor can we abide the premise that we ourselves do not need meaning, for the excelllent reason that such surmising would (itself) "mean something"! We smuggle in meaning in order to rid ourselves of it? We require air in order to say we need none of it? What madness is this? This; "in your face" we often do not notice at all!
  Alone and unaided, all that we can say is that we need hope, and cannot find it. All that we can deduce is that life was to have been otherwise than it presently is, but how to repair or rebuild this obvious flaw is beyond our ability to say or do. Focus here because this (in itself), is more valuable than a mountain of solid gold. And also it remains true that we usually just thoughtlessly toss it aside. This "is us"!
  So then, getting back to the fb post for a moment, the reason that feeling and emotion is met with hostility, is that it must! Our desire to just quit this world of misery, lies, pretending and stupid futility is honest enough, but it can never be the whole picture. To embrace sorrow as a friend, to grasp ahold of, and welcome the grief which so haunts our steps is a kind of walking "which makes no sense" to us. How could it?
  A kind of individualist and then a collectivist suicide is what we "must" build provided that we see no further than "the me". If I know nothing at all in this world of folly, I yet know this! Philosophy will carry us this far, and it is never far enough, not by a long shot!
  There is a great line in "Til We Have Faces", the 'god' says; "You must die . . . before you die".
  Back at the trainwreck of Eden, we were sort of turned "inside-up", our sense of color became a mathematical error so to speak, our hold on the true became a death grip, and never any more the exchange of a friendly handshake. It was along those lines I think which we went off the rails. We as creatures, became wildly distorted, and as such (now) must see ourselves "at the center". But, at that "center" there is only a hole in the ground awaiting . . . me! We became crazy gamblers who have-to (now) "let it all ride" upon the flimsy and absurd premise that we can (and ought!) be "something special".
  We see, and are not seeing correctly. We hear, and only listen for certain parts. We are wrecked by the damage, and also must continue assembling the parts for the big collapse. This "is us". We kind of "vaguely recall" that life wasn't supposed to have been this way, and for the life of me I cannot say how it was to have been!
  So, we complain.
  Nobody likes complainers, and nobody enjoys being around "needy" people. At minimum, I don't! But what other option is there for us if we remain alone and unaided? If my friend who makes no bones about his rejection of Messiah complains; I suppose that I can "understand" to some degree the issues involved. But I cannot fix either the world, nor him nor me. In a sense then, we conclude the matter with hunger.
  Food is like air, we cannot get along without it. Hope is like food. We cannot last without it indefinitely. All that we can safely say then is that we require the stuff, and cannot locate it by our own selves.
  A kind of "inversion" of things then would "predict" (after the fact?) that it is Hope which locates me! There is precisely nothing in me which Hope could find "worthwhile or meaningful". There is zero aspects of my life, doings or intentions which would, or could ever "recommend me" to the Captain of Hope. This much is certain. This is our emotional reality, and also, the reality is that I do indeed have hope! Something new has entered the world.
  The center has been relocated outside of "the me", and I wasn't the one who did it! He Himself becomes a kind of "food", which like the waybread of the elves ain't much to look at, but yet has marvelous staying power!
  It was in the saying, and in the telling Him precisely what I thought of His idiotic little dump called "reality", it was in my expressing rage at Him, that I found something unexpected. The gift is life! But, I didn't want that; I wanted truth and meaning! Uh, those are tossed into the deal gratis, deal with it.
  We have to find our "bottom", we must locate the ground in which we shall one day be buried, and stand just there, shouting our wrongminded hatred of all things. Say what is in you, it is ugly . . . and true!
  I did not "find" God, He arrested me! I did not "choose Jesus", He mopped the floor with me! To speak of "the me, 'making' Him Lord" is just more hopelessly stupid blather.
  He is the Maker whether we like it or not, but if we like it, there are benefits undreamt involved. Our truth takes us to the edge, His truth takes us to life, to death, and then to life again.
  It is either that, or complain, to grind the teeth and to rant at the darkness. but of our own selves we (privately) prefer the darkness. That "is us"!
  Hope is built here, we are not, have never been and shall never be; of our own selves. The True Self has seen to that! And so, with hope anew comes desire anew. It would shock the pants off of my dear old Mom that I (nowadays) actually enjoy asparagus!
  With The Captain comes a new "want-to". Long live the King! Our hope dwells in Him.

The Auto-destruct Sequence

  Back in the late 60s, when I was a grade schooler, we would come home about three p.m. from Bel-Air Elementary. On TV, the reruns included such stuff as Gilligans' Island, The Beverly Hillbillies and whatnot. But the real action was the reruns of Star Trek! Now, there is some entertainment for an eleven year old boy!
  It is odd (now) to watch those old shows, they seem so shallow; or is it insipid? I have a hard time trying to regather the emotion, the "oomph" of just why I found the program to be so powerful as a sixth grader. Really, one of the few ideas which showed up in the show (occasionally) which has stuck in my cerebrum (or where-ever) for 45 years is; "the auto destruct sequence"
  You know the drill, some dire strait or another in which Kirk & Co. have landed, gives them no choice but to blow the good ship Enterprise to smithereens! So, the chief officers, one by one go through the protocol (talking to 'computer') to verify and authenticate the legitimacy of the process. Of course, this is attended by a Cape Kennedy type of countdown, and what with one thing and another, the crew finds a last ditch reason to over-ride the command. But, we knew that was going to happen. To my young ears, this was compelling stuff indeed!
  We were talking in the Sunday school class today about "the beauty of failure" of which I ought be some sort of expert at by now. I still (by in large) do not "get" the concept. Failure is one of the very few things in this life that I am really any good at. And even there, we get mixed results. That odd occasion of sometimes getting something more or less correct, ruins my "streak"! So, if the goal was to become a uniform and consistent failure, well I'm no good at that! A failure at being a failure, how depressing is that?
  Some folks find (I believe) this sort of rumination to be "negative" or "too hard on myself". I haven't the froggiest fig-newton of why they think so. It seems darkly humorous to me, a bit like being unable to consistently recognize your own image in a mirror. The auto-destruct sequence is basic to "who we are" or at least who we were.
  We, generally speaking; much prefer to "not-look" at this type of dynamic in ourselves. When others begin the countdown, we attempt to put them off of it, to distract or perhaps compliment them into a more sanguine mood. It (our strategy I mean) is like Scotty trying to amuse the rest of the crew during the computer count down with a joke, and dancing a little jig.
  The auto-destruct sequence has many faces, and appears to be one of my favorite strategies. As a mental image, picture a pilot of a fighter-bomber "having a thing for" hitting the "eject" button, perhaps?
  If one is even able (questionable) to look at life realistically, the ideas of "hope" and of a better tomorrow seem pretty darned vapid. The beauty of drinking isn't so much the glamour of stumbling around and making a fool of yourself. But rather, the sharp focus of seeing what a crazy dump we live in (and keep rebuilding!) is temporarily fuzzied. By drinking, we are actively trying to ruin things. But what we forget while in the process of drinking is the next day.
  The interior wreckage, that physical exhaustion, plus the familiar sense of feeling like crap on a windshield (the next day), is what the drinker is so busy building. This, we forget, and it is but a variant of the auto-destruct. I think I can grasp the intention of why we build that. People say that; "Nobody wants to feel bad about themselves", but the fact is that they already do! The "problem" to be solved is much more along the lines of; "Why do I feel so chipper and glad, given what a trainwreck I have made of things? Shouldn't there be some evidence of the mayhem?" So, we build hangovers to verify who we (think) we are! Or, at minimum, that is what I used to do.
  The auto-destruct is a slow motion thing, a type of half-hearted suicide. We might deem it a self authored tentative eviction notice mayhaps? There is something terribly wrong with ourselves, and with the world. We are quite certain at this juncture. The thing begins to balloon at about the same time that we identify "the problem area". It is as-if we were going to utter a repair strategy to "fix things". It doesn't much matter what we identify as the "source" of the troubles, in that the process uniformly breeds in us a superiority complex. We end up thinking; "Why can't people just be more (fill in the blank here as you like); and things would be so much better!". This type of brain talk guides us infallibly to the conclusion that the real problem is "out there", and moreover that if and when "they wake up"; things shall improve and not otherwise.  I did this sort of head trip for many years, and it never made any difference how hard I pushed "the fix", people would just not learn! Shocking, ain't it?
  The auto-destruct sequence lives somewhere in this neighborhood. To validate hopelessness "out there", is to unwittingly validate it also (and stronger!) "in here". I (technically) become a "failure" in this case, at waking-up others. It's just that I am not really very good at it (failure I mean). Hit the "eject" button . . . again. Our interior chaos has oddly predictable patterns, we keep building the same thing over and over.
  For at least twenty years, as an "adult"; I used to say; "You want to know what I want out of life? I will tell you, I . . . want-out. . . of life!". Strangely, this was not well received. Life seemed like a bizarre game in which you can only be penalized, a sort of ever downward spiral, such that even what you try to do right is only more evidence against you? And I (for one) concluded that the basic premise then would be to do damage control soonest, and cease adding to the deficits! "Just show me the EXIT sign already, and I will cease making things worse, it ain't much; but it is the best I can do." and that; was the decades long brain noise I built.
  Now, our normal heart furniture tends strongly to disallow this type of response, and next thing I knew, I became the one "tut-tutting" my own self in order to shrink or contain the auto-destruct which (in reality) was the best answer I am capable of. I came to strongly disagree with myself "in principle"! Talking to yourself isn't so bad, the arguments are worse . . . but  worst of all, when you lose the argument!
  I am convinced that The Almighty knows this about us, He is well aware of this habit of ours of creating wrecks. In my own opinion Of Him (which was far too low) I thought He was on the "chipper" team. Those pastors with the over large crosses about their necks, saying things like; "That's just super" about things like growing radishes, kinda made me want to puke. The whole "encouragement" drill seemed to be awfully pasty and thin if it didn't have any courage or guts to it. This feminine and squishy nice guy theory just doesn't wash. We end up with a "god" who kinda loafs around until we decide (all on our own) to take our finger off the trigger? We end up with yet another voice telling us to; "Try harder", and this garbage is supposed to somehow qualify as "good news"? "Park it where the sun don't shine pard, ain't interested", was (and still is) my response.
  The way to get past the blender is to go through it, the path leading into the meat grinder is the correct one. This (in part) explains our fascination with extreme sports, and with death defying stunts. Life is inherently "unsafe", start there. Because (you see?) we know something about ourselves. We can hide from it, we can temporarily forget it due to distraction or stupor, but it won't go away. Death is "the answer" as far as we are able to see. It is simply this, He sees farther!
  That is, He is not "against" our auto-destruct sequence in the least. It is just that it does not go far enough! We have one piece of the puzzle, and it is a keeper, but it ain't the entire picture. The reason we (or at least I) keep rebuilding a collapse, a failure, an offense to others is that it must come! "And if Mr. Almighty upstairs hasn't the wherewithal to whack me for it, I shall manage it myself! So, let me get this right, I have to do my job, plus His too? And this is the same Guy telling me; 'To be perfect?!'. An Almighty loafer nice guy, just what we needed. . ." This was the sound of the brain racket in me for years! And that was about as far as I could see, before He came to meddle in my affairs. But hear me, I was right . . . but never right-enough.
  He doesn't take away from the truth we know about ourselves, He corrects by filling in the parts we cannot see. The auto-destruct sequence itself is destructive not because it is wrong headed, but because it is incomplete, and a half-measure.
  Our grasp of things is inherently "negative" and we (stupidly) attempt an over-ride with the "positive" as a sort of check or balance to keep ourselves from going too far. I have no beef with that inner strategy, except to note that it is a stopgap. It is like pouring molasses on sand, it slows the motion downward, and maybe that is alright. Perhaps it was more time which we required after all, but time for what?
  My Dad used to say things like; "We shall all stand naked before God to give an answer". This sounded like a terrible idea to me! Yes, he had "stand" right, and also "give an answer" correct; it was "naked" which was never enough. To complete the picture, to find the missing pattern, we need clothing. It was the best that Dad could do, and it was never good enough, in this; he "is us". My look at this sort of thing led me to conclude; "If things are that dire, the sooner I can cease adding evidence in the case against me, the better!". I was right and it was the best I could do, and it was never enough. That "is us".
  The good news of the auto-destruct sequence is that He built and owns the sucker. In His hand, it is applied correctly, for our good, and to His praise. Does that sound odd to you? What then of the testimony; "I tell you the truth, I die daily, it is no longer 'I' who live, but Christ (Jesus) who lives in me"? In Him, our concept of the "finger on the button" gets pushed; as JFK would have said "with vigah!".
  If back on the U.S.S. Enterpise, they once had carried out to the end the auto-destruct; I suppose that would have been the end of the series? But they always drew back, "just in time". He does not draw back, and applies the death sanction to us. The beauty is that on the "other side of death", is a life we have not yet guessed at. Gospel asserts boldly that this process is already begun! We agree with that testimony. The end of me is not "the end", but rather, a surprising new kind of beginning.
  One of the mind sets of the hip generation includes the phrases; "Getting your 'stuff' together", and "getting your head screwed on right". The unspoken premise is that one can (and ought!) get ones' proverbial poop in order, that is; it is do-able. And as long as we are stuck in that miserable rut, we personally guarantee the auto-destruct to manifest in our actual doings. Through bitter experience, I say so!
  Is it drugs or sex you would rather fail at? Or, how about some combination? Is it driving while drunk, or doing a crooked business deal in which you shall surely be caught which you prefer to build? Somewhere, somehow we are determined to apply negative sanction, to exhaust and ruin . . . ourselves. We must, because it is the right thing to do! "And if God is too gutless to smack me down, I'll do it!", this is the sound of our misery. Gospel predicts correctly instead that the auto-destruct  finds its' true home when we "go low".
  When we agree with our pride and ambition being scuttled, when we embrace our loneliness and sorrow, when we die to any hope of ever "getting it together", then into the meat-grinder we walk. . . gladly! The central axiom of the good news has two legs. One, Jesus is Lord (as in Lord GOD) whether you like it or not, and two, that He has busted out of the tomb. These combined, alter the shape of reality; by addition and by an abundant overflow. It does not say; "You are wrong about everything". It says; "Keep what is true, and add to it!".
  This sort of talk is "man-talk". The three being cast into the fiery furnace possessed "balls". And it is just here that I find our western church to be so lacking. We have forgotten the connect between courage and loyalty to the death, with our flimsy, and girlish usage of the word "encouragement". A man never "backs down on what is right"! That is just the way it is, deal with it. Our problem is not an unshakable insistence upon "right", but rather that we have been blinded, that we live in a dark world. We see not-far at all.
  He knows this about us.
  As the True Owner-Operator of the auto-destruct sequence, He is not "saddened" by our conclusions. He is not "surprised" at our patterns of rebuilding the wreck. It is simply that we are unable to wreck deeply enough. Our puny hangover, our lousy disputes with the "ex", do not ever cut deeply enough! It is for lack of passion, not the excess thereof He scolds!
  Individually and collectively, we build a future collapse. And whether it is a war, or an economic depression, whether a bad needle habit, or chronic emotional depression we of human-kind shall keep on finding ways to crash.
  We must!
  The beauty and innovation, the sheer genius of Gospel is simply that death "in Him" is survivable! The King of the Jews is the evidence, the Guarantor of life, the Executor of the sentence and the Redeemer back from destruction. We provide the destruction, until He gets here, and does the job right!
  The way out is down, the way home is in being lost. The way of gladness is to embrace sorrow as friend and counselor. There is a new thing in earth!
  He, the Aroma of Life, He the Captain Brave, He the Lily of the valley, Fairest of ten-thousand.  He is "the new thing"! The one Loyal Son has pledged Himself. . . to the death, and beyond!
  Unthinkably, far and far beyond.

That Rapture Jive

  I have been mulling over whether or not to write on a topic now for several weeks, and finally decided to go ahead. The beauty of this sort of format is that if the finished product is junk it can easily be scrapped, or edited like crazy in the future. But rather than leaping directly into the rapture jive, it seems appropriate to me to introduce it by way of how it arose in my brain-case as a topic for an essay of the crazy pants variety.
  I have to admit up front that I have been spending altogether too much time looking at the news feed material which my close personal friends over at Facebook send my way. I gather by observation; that there are algorithms at work. The sort of thing you click on, triggers similar feeds in the future. So, each person through their personal choices is (basically) programming themselves with what they already agree with. I find this oddly fascinating, and quite boring, it is both.
  All that said, the sort of thing which shows on my feed is highly political (of the conservative ilk), very often humorous, and sometimes religiously quasi apocalyptic, y'know, just like yours truly! What I find more interesting than not, are the comments to a given post. Some posts have way too many to read, but even on those; you can get a whiff, and a general drift of "where" most of the commentary is directionally pointed, by skimming a couple of dozen or so.
  Years (decades now) ago, I quit watching television. I resented being "programmed" into a unanimity, a kind of cultural group-think, so I quit watching (plus that, my TV conked out, and I was too cheap to buy another!). The broad outlines of popular opinion now, compared to when I quit watching, up until today have shifted dramatically. And I (for one) attribute much of this sea change to the constant barrage of images and words on television.
  In its broad sense, the changes are toward a kind of muzzy headed marxism, which is all about fairness, tolerance and inclusion, which is to say what has been bred is a harsh and shrill victim status, a cruel and deceptive exclusion of the "incorrect". In this type of model, the smaller (and more bizarre) the minority, the louder and broader the message. In my opinion then, America (as we knew it) is no more.
  Another cultus is forming, and it appears to be politically driven. That is, safety, security and provision are not to be sought in work, ambition and personal drive (forget about God!), they are to be awarded to all; as their rightful due.
  So anyhow, if this estimate of what America is becoming is even moderately correct, a reaction to (or against) such "progress" is a (predictable) "end of the world" scenario. I am not (yet) certain that we live during the era just prior to the return of the King, but viewing the news feed comments, I am (apparently) in the minority.
  As an aside, as best as I can tell, Peter the Apostle believed that he was living in "the last days", and I see no reason to dispute that estimate. So, in this essay at least, we are discussing that rapture jive, as it applies to the period immediately preceding the return, not a prolonged era of gospel tidings being spread to all the nations.
  I have been a Christian since the winter of '77, and never during that period have I once embraced the so called "doctrine" of the secret rapture. In brief; it is crap theology, not only untrue but misleading in the extreme. In my estimate, the entire schmeer swings upon two verses in the Bible. I Thes 4:17, and II Thes 2:7 are the ones I have in mind. Jerked entirely out of context, we get this lame theory which (more or less) runs as follows.
  Jesus will come, but since He doesn't physically touch the earth with His foot, it doesn't really qualify as a coming. You got that? So, when this occurs, He will zap the church outta here, and they will go have a good time for 3 1/2 (or 7, depending upon the interpretor) years. During that period, the Jews will renew bloody sacrifice at Jerusalem. Oddly, God will be pleased (?) to accept such worship, and they will do mightily. So anyhow, at the end of that period, the King returns, and establishes some sort of kingdom, in which believers and unbelievers (still together) will be ruled for precisely one thousand years. Then, there will be a judgement, a resurrection, and something or other.
  This bizarre mishmash of the apostles' teaching was entirely unheard of in the church for 18 centuries. Nobody believed it, because it had not yet been invented. Let us take as an axiom; "Novelty in theology is not wholesome food".
  To my knowledge, the rapture jive arose out of a series of meetings in which teenaged girls started giving first person"Thus saith the LORD" type of messages. This, (positionally) places them as equals to the prophets of old, and I (for one) do not buy it.
  The keystone of their innovative word was; "Jesus could come at any time", which is clearly hogwash. This two stage mashup of eschatology was the "explanation" of their "revelation" and as a result utterly divides (again) Jew from Gentile. Two peoples, two salvations, clearly a fraud. And speaking of frauds, next this guy named Darby took the mess, and sold it like crazy. But where it really gained traction was nearly a century later, when Schofield published his KJV version "with notes".
  Since (at minimum) the 1960's or so, a huge chunk of the fundamental and/or evangelical protestant church in the west has bought this misery hook, line and sinker. The net result?
  Read the comments section of those semi-apocalyptic posts on Facebook. People expect to be lifted out, prior to the tribulation era. They do not expect to be here. Well, they may be correct, and "until he that prevents is taken out of the way" could well be the Spirit. So, if the Spirit is gone, and the Christians are gone at that time, then all I would say is that there are more ways than one to remove them! Ever heard of a chain gun?
  But here is my "take" on what the rapture jive actually will do then in the lives of those buying into it. The Apostle Paul who is wrongly cited for supplying the idea, is the very same guy who predicts that two major signs must occur prior to the return. And it is these signs he warns the believers to watch for. So how are they going to do that, if they ain't here? The great apostasy, and the appearance of the man of sin are the two. And so, for those buying the rapture jive I would ask, of those alive then; "What is your opinion of that man?". And unless I am smoking major doses of controlled substances, the answer is obvious!
  They are being forced into something like; "Whoever that guy finally proves to be (and we don't know where he really comes from), the only thing we can affirm for certain is that he is OBVIOUSLY NOT the man of sin!" I ask; "Uh, how can you be so SURE about such a negative proof?" Simply said, their answer must be; "WE ARE STILL HERE! We cannot be here, if he is here; so he ain't him!" Doesn't that seem an interesting coincidence to you?
  One of the two signs given beforehand (the arising of this son of perdition), and the most vocal and active branch of the church being prepared for generations beforehand to deny his true identity? Downright flukey that! The other sign, a massive falling away from the faith; I take as deeply connected to the identity of this one rotten man. That is to say, a false religion need not necessarily "replace" faith, but add to it!
  Central to the lie is a parallel, or an equality premise. After all, this is what the original rebellion was all about; "To become like God". So, evil or wickedness is not a self conscious endorsement of an "anti-right". Rather, it proposes a parallel (and unique) "also right". I infer that something along these lines must come into play in the future. And the rapture jive leaves believers very vulnerable exactly here. Whether during my natural lifetime or not, the two signs are tied together structurally. He claims to be somebody he ain't, and the faithful are swept along in this tomfoolery, it is both.
  He, showing himself in the temple (where?) as-if he were god, may not get a hearty "Amen" from the believers, but neither will they be able to assert that he is the one we have been warned of! A theory of; "He can't be him, because we are still here", must breed a kind of "irrelevant nowhereland", a religious ghetto being built. Neither able to fit in with the mobs flocking to the un-man, nor able to testify that he is in fact the anti-christ, the church in this sense, sentences herself to a "no comment" at best! And this is what I mean by the new cultus being political.
  The rapture jive is a twisting of scripture, which when imbibed, breeds a disinterest in the affairs of men. I recall when in the U.S.A.F. that "short-timers" (guys about to end their enlistment time) definitely had a bad attitude about doing their job. It just didn't matter anymore, if "I'm outta here" forms the ethic. So, in this case, the world can go to hell in a handbasket, and believers are not motivated to take risks to rebuild decency or truth in public discourse, for the very same kind of reason. They are "short-timers"! And girls, this is your message for us from on high? Please, stop the madness!
  I don't pretend to grasp all that shall come to pass, but I know my own hearts' ambition. I desire like Job of old, to see my Redeemer stand upon this earth with these eyes of flesh! And, the slide we are now in culturally, may or may not be the final chapter. Regardless, I entrust my life and my death, my falling and my rising to the Good King. And if He sees fit that I have the endurance to live to that day, I'm all for it! I desire nothing in this world, but to see Him standing in victory, having kicked the ever living snot out of the foe, and all of his slaves!
  Indeed, the entire teaching pattern of acquiring patience, perseverance, and endurance all point forward to that day! You shall require, my friend; a superhuman strength to tolerate His presence. Like a tornado, but wild, like a super-nova but really bright, we build endurance unto that rendezvous. We are to live, enduring all things; and not to be swept away with the guilty.
  There exists precisely one method of guilt removal which He authorizes and recognizes. There is one bomb shelter strong enough and deep enough to cover us in that hour, and it is called ; "The blood of the Lamb". The very same apostle said once; "I determined to preach nothing to you . . . but Christ crucified, and Christ raised". This sole remedy doesn't change, nor does the clock or calendar reform our view here. Whether late or early, the one sacrifice is our one hope before Him. And if for any reason at all, that covering be removed, our hope in that hour dies.
  He is sworn upon His own honor, the covering shall not removed.
  It is for this reason, that I most strenously object to, and find utterly repugnant this "christian" teaching that in those last days, the blood of bulls and goats will once again be the path of acceptable sacrifice for anybody at all! In this plumbers' opinion, that would be "the abomination which makes desolate", indeed!
  And this rounds out my spin on the rapture jive, except for one point. If we do see such horrible heresy as revived bloody sacrifice, and believers remaining physically present then, unable to correctly identify the un-christ, then the final weirdness of clocktime does (at that point) kick in.
  Daniel and John keep stressing; "A time, times and half a time, 42 months, 1335 days" from the abomination to something marvelous. It is stressed and repeated, so (naturally?) the rapture jive doubles it to seven years? This guarantees a dis-spirited and forlorn bunch of do-nothings. See? They have been left behind! "Apparently" they were only fooling around with faith, and were not found worthy of supernatural evacuation planning. And so, to make a bad situation worse, their estimate of the duration is off by a factor of two! This guarantees an unready folk, and purchases leisure for excuse making, gee; just what we were missing. . .
  The rapture jive is a theological train wreck, a massive lie and breeds no good fruit in those swallowing it. The reality is far different.
  Ever since the original rebellion at Eden broke out, humankind was told to anticipate the Coming One, the Messiah of Israel. Through a hundred types, through the Law, via sound doctrine, with promise and threat, by poem and song we were taught to await His coming. But when He did show, who knew?
  Well, there was His mom and step-dad, a gang of nobody shepherds, several astrologer types from Persia, an old lady at the temple, and one old guy who was promised to see him come before he died. But each of these had help in so recognizing Him. That is about it. So, we get an obviousness and a blindness both at once. We get a fulfillment and an inability to recognize, it is both/and, not either/or.
  So likewise then, predicted is dire and wooly horrors in those days. Mens' hearts failing them for seeing the things which are coming upon earth! Plus, and simultaneously, we see a workaday run of the mill. It is business as usual, a type of not noticing like stepping into a bear-trap!. It will be both in those days then.
  In brief, it has become my ambition, my goal in life to be like that old guy Simeon. I want to see the LORD's anointed come to do Justice(!) before I go.
  That is all. Nothing else really matters much to me. That, and to tell you about it, I suppose.

Some Thoughts On Hell

  Lately, a kind of three legged philosophy of conduct has been recurring in my noggin. If you have any interest in that, read on!
  Our lives, our conduct, our priorities and other fine things are a source of mystification to ourselves. For instance, "personality tests" are to reveal who we actually are. Uhm, we don't already know? People go to counselors to sort out their mixed up emotion and try to work through the inner conflicts of their lives. We do things, but often don't know why?
  As an unpaid observor of humankind, I have frequently wondered what makes people tick. Often enough also (just as frequently) I have given up on the effort. We are a mystery to ourselves, and I (for one) find that very interesting indeed.
  If you are chronic reader of these C.P.E.s then I believe the basic idea for this one is examined somewhat in "The Big Whoosh". We upon encountering any given decision point, have three access routes to consider it by. Ought, want and shall are the three. Ask yourself, what is the right thing to do, what would I like to do, and what (in fact) will occur? Heaven and hell are much closer than we thought!
  Occasionally a preacher or teacher will talk some about heaven. I do not recall ever hearing a solid sermon on the topic myself, but (surely?) something along these lines must exist. After all, heaven is a pleasant subject to think over. But, as for hell, I cannot even recall the last time it was mentioned in public, church or otherwise. Who wants to think of that horror? So, as a strategy, we just don't mention it. My point here in this essay of the crazy pants kind, is to redirect our thinking somewhat, and along the lines of the aforementioned three.
  So, whatever we might expect from a minister of gospel, it is not lurid details of the hell of fire. If it is even mentioned (highly unlikely) at all, the place is usually linked to "ought". That is to say, the moral failing, the violation of law righteousness is a positive penalty incurred by the soul. Hell in this sense is a kind of prison for spiritual felons, so to speak. Better to let sleeping dogs lie!
  There is then an uneasy truce somewhere around here. As I see it, if hell is a kind of dump (on fire!) for souls, and we view those there as moral failures, those who went wrong at "ought", we get what we have, mainly silence. This is because heaven is also full of moral failures, and to insist upon  the ought as the method into that darkness "accidentally" places the concept of merit at the opposite extreme. But clearly, heaven is not the place where righteous men go, for there are none!
  Well, there is One.
  Instead, if we think along the lines of desire, of the want-to, then a different picture emerges. Hell, based upon desire, or more modernly spoken, built upon addiction, is an entirely different viewpoint. Crucial to a redirected view of hell then, is what was truly wanted. This way of seeing produces the remarkable conclusion that people go to hell because they prefer it!
  And as outlandish as that seems, if desire of the heart is known, then the heart treasures some things above others. We all make estimates of what is worth what, and of the many; which is most valuable. You cannot be a human and not do so. The heart desires . . . because, . . .  because of something we find powerful, something that carries us, something which fascinates.
  For just a moment, join me in a thought experiment, will you? What do you desire? Think of something (or someone I suppose) and then ask; "Why do I want that person or thing?". As an example; I almost immediately thought of fresh fruit in the summertime. I next thought of the muffled world of newly fallen snow at night, deep in winter. I thought of the roaring wind in my face, of solid sleep, and joyful times spent with the family. The things we desire are good. This is basic and central to our grasp of hell.
  Here is an illustration, money can be a good thing, and it can also be a horrible trap. When the man inside begins to treasure treasure above (let's say) people, or decency, or truthfulness, then what was good has become, to him a good in and of itself. If he does not turn away and rethink things prior to death, he is in a very bad position. Simply enough, beyond death you have the desire, but the thing desired has passed away! Being left with a hunger, a lust-for, left with a desire, for a thing which no longer can be fulfilled, is the place of torment. Hunger is a sign of a lack, but if the thing itself disappears, and the hunger remains, what then?
  I recall a hike in the mountains years ago. It was a hot day, and being the "tough guy" that I am, I brought no water. After about five or seven hours I was really really interested in a drink of water! Finally, along the pathway I could hear the distinct tinkle of water running, a little stream, and very nearby! I can still recall the whimpering and panting noises I was making as I descended the scree. So close, and yet so far. Next, it was in sight and I still couldn't reach it! Filled with frustration, anger and a disgust with myself for being weak, I finally got there. And let me tell you, slurping up that cold mountain water was one marvelously good drink; and that's for certain.
  Hell is like that, minus the water.
  Water is a good thing of itself, but insofar as that is true, the wet stuff is a whisper, a mild mannered hint of the Real Drink. It, along with everything else in existence is a pointer, an echo, a line drawing of the real deal. Hell is the place for those who "settle for" a reward way too soon, confusing the sign for the destination.
  Back when I was young and ignorant (I am much older now) I loved a big old motorcycle. Flying down the road, feeling the power and acceleration, wow; what a rush! But, to finally settle for that (as the best thing ever), is aiming far too low. You see? The roar of the wind, the focus ahead of you, the landscape zipping by as you continue to build speed, this too, a whisper of another (and much better!) sprint. If the desire in me for movement toward the loved exists, and also the body is no longer able, then that beloved becomes a torment. But such pain is never the fault of the loved thing. And so, for me to desire what has passed away, yields being left, ever alone; with desire ever unfilled.
  The hellishness of wanting a drink very very badly, and no water existing, the desire to see a vista in the daylight, and there is no seeing for there is no light, hell is the place of unfulfillable want. Those left alone in their desires cannot in that day any longer be rewired, they have ceased (by choice) learning. It is the permanency of having finally chosen (badly). To reject Food in favor of of food, to reject True Drink in favor of mere water, is to finally have no choice but to testify; "I chose badly".
  The hellishness of hell is that it is entirely unnecessary (not to mention foolish) to so choose, and to ever and ever be very aware of this! But recall that I am a Calvinist after all, have we just now endorsed "freewill"? Absolutely not!
  "We are saved by grace through faith, and that (the faith I mean) is the gift of God, so that no man may boast". Faith is the gift. Life is the gift. Grace is the gift. Christ (Himself) is the gift. His truth in scripture is the gift. Hope is the gift. Forgiveness and reconciliation with Him is the gift. It turns out that everything is the gift! But hear me please! This is precisely the problem of hell.
  All of these marvels of kindness and good intent toward our kind are good, no; they are really good!. . . but never and never The One True Good (Himself!).
  When discussing this with teenagers, I usually go this route. Gather all the gold, rubies, diamonds and platinum of earth. Oh heck forget that, gather all the wealth of all the worlds of all the galaxies and make a heap. All known treasure in one pile, which would you rather have, it; or this homeless hillbilly who thinks He's God? Choose one.
  In ourselves, of ourselves; and by ourselves we simply cannot pass up the treasure, and hell is built right here!
  That is hell, for truly; all is passing away! The Homeless Hillbilly is the Inventor of the stuff. By His word power, the platinum shines and exists. Of His authority, the rubies were fashioned and continue to shine. Therefore, He is "logically" of infinitely greater value. He is The Reward (in Person!), He (Himself) is the Treasure, He is our true Goal and Destination. You see? We are not trying "to get to" heaven, we are being drawn to Him, and heaven is thrown in as a door prize!
  Just here, in the prayer we say "lead us not into temptation". The temptation is to make this basic and unnecessary error of choosing the symbol over the Reality which the sign symbolizes; which (unaided) we simply must make! To ever know this, to evermore be certain of having made the final bad choice, this is hell. For those left alone in the dark, only desire remains.
  The folly of preaching is that those stirred by the announced Word, call for assistance. Their most holy of all prayers runs; "HELP!!". He hears. I testify with clear conscience today, He hears.
  What makes heaven so blasted heavenly . . . is that He is there! And furthermore, the promise and oath are that He shall ever tabernacle among us. Heaven has come down to us, and The Lord of heaven (and earth) lifts!
  Our helplessness, and the fact that we hate His guts for no good reason, are to be serious alarm bells ringing within. They signal, that there is something dreadfully wrong in me, and that it cannot be repaired by me. The impetus then is for us to shout to Him across that vast gulf for assistance.
  We call Him by Name; "I Am . . . salvation!". The Bridgebuilder hears, I swear it true.