Moving from one home into one that is twice as small … and already filled with stuff …. is a real pain in the ass. However, one nice benefit is that you find stuff that you thought was lost forever, and even stuff you don’t remember ever having — like this piece below, circa 1976, my first year of college (seems like I despised Church&Religion even as a brand new born-again believer. Heh!).
I’ve mentioned before that I took an elective “Women In The Bible”. Even though I was a CompSci major I took this elective to meet chicks. It worked, sort of. It is true, I was the only male in the class. But, the babes didn’t cozy up to me. Upon years of deep reflection I’m pretty sure it’s because they were all feminist, man-hating, lesbians. Anyway, I found the term-paper I wrote for that class!! Forty five years later. Unbelievable! I’ll submit that next Sunday if I have the time to transcribe it. It’s a glimpse of Stucky when he was a new, Bible thumping, hard core, born-again believer. Funny how things change. Nevertheless, the instructor – an ex-nun (really), and probably also a lezzie – gave me an A+ and, begged me to have it published (which I didn’t … until next Sunday, and I hope she sees it.)
They came. Grey and silent, wrapped in themselves, unseeing and uncaring beyond themselves. They were of and for themselves, and that was all they were.
They gathered themselves faithfully once each week. In this they were consistent, but without apparent reason. There was no memory of why, just that it was always done. So, they came, grey and unspeaking, enclosed in themselves tightly as they entered the holy place.
In the holy place they sat unsounding, soaked in the warm blood-red light washing over them from the innumerable massive windows. Magnificent, intricate, deeply stained glass windows. Windows that looked as thick and heavy as the stone walls of the huge monolithic building in which they sat, listening to the silence of the black robes at the front of the holy place.
Inside the black robes was another of themselves, speaking to them in hollow, contentless, silent, undisturbing, reassuring words. The robes spoke of the security and placidness of things within, and not of those unspeakable things without.
Without was considered chaos and dirt. Filth and death was without. Ignorance was without. They themselves wanted nothing to do with the impurity and uncleanness of without. They kept themselves unblemished and were next to God in their minds, and without was next to hell.
There appeared suddenly a man among them. He entered and walked amid the mass, approaching the trembling robes in front. All was stillness, pale chill silence. The man walked quickly, certainly. He stood before the robes and they shuttered aside, melting into the grey mass. Speaking true words. Disturbing, something words. Words with content and blazing meaning. Words that moved the mind to restless thought. His words plundered in surging echoes upon them, threatening their strength and the beauty of their windows. His gestures met their eyes and captured them. They were hearing truth and cringing away, frightened and stupid about what to do. Their strength of silence had now become their weakness and fear.
The man ceased speaking and knew his words were useless against their empty minds. He was enraged at their willful ignorance. He hated the monster that slouched before him, that had possessed their beings. He tore from his pocket three, heavy, smooth stones. His hands flashed thrice and the stones, white and gleaming, shattered in a twinkling of an eye three of the large glass windows. The jagged pieces flew like a glittering jigsaw puzzle thrown deep into the heavens.
The broken dreams of windows fell on them, in them, and cut them, and bled them away as the world without poured, fell in on them. Their reality of hell burned in on their blank eyes and minds. And the world watched them as the monster died, sinking in the red washing over their silence.
And the man spoke these final words; “I have judged, I have sentenced, I have executed.”
Then he turned and passed through and out from their midst. And He went into the waiting world in their place.
I am thrilled to see this here. I fell right down on my knees, cried Holy, and picked up a few red, white and blue rocks and hurled away.
The stains on those windows are deep and they serve as brilliant barriers to everything a man knows and everything a man needs to know.
Last year, I was embarked on a journey with a little flat coonskin and I filmed a lot of the rock laying at gravesides, not realizing the journey of that little coonskin which started on my father’s tombstone (and yes, ec, I got the picture) with my mother’s hand on his fur, praying with a pack of rosary bead counting maniacs in Maryland that Nick from New Jersey not have to face the horror of losing his beloved to Alzheimers as both she and I had lost my father, whose mind was stronger than most so that when it went, finally, it was a complete and utter devastation to my family. He had survived so much. How could some stupid thing like Alzheimers take him down?
It is good to see you post, Stucky. Thinking about you has become a part of my daily routine.
I have new rabbits but guess what? I have a deal with the farm store to sell as many as they can sell for Easter. See? I’m a new creature. No stained glass windows or robes on me.
Are we really almost at Easter again?!As always,what do bunnies having sex with chickens and then hiding the eggs have to do with the dead coming back to life!?
they do not have sex with chickens they just get their eggs and paint them for the kids to seek out new life didn’t you go to bible day camp
Paulita,actually,no I didn’t,always liked to have fun with the whole Easter thing,me favorite is the lion going for the Cadbury Egg spokes person.
alrighty then, jimmy… i’ve come for justice and justice will be mine
the cowards need to kiss the biologist’s ass because Vengeance belongs to the Lord and the assfuckers are still here
Hmmm….,this should be fun,should I eat you or kiss your ass?!
Sigh…,where where you a decade back?
i been around jimmy but there is a nasty troll here fixing to make his move… step aside.
ignore james mags i want the little silver bunny for otto
the biker is married but he is still cute as all get out
hello, nicknewjersey, am so sorry about your wife
i know you got a hardon for that new hampshire snooty crowd but if you come see mags we’ll drink a cold one
She is right. We will.
Okay, Stuckenheimer, you big lumberjack looking dude from New Jersey? I’m going to crawl in bed by my Nick and put my cold feet on his legs and he will jerk them aside but not be mean about it.
And, tomorrow, I will tell you a story that the phantom shitter here will downvote but that you will love, trust me.
I’ve been waiting for you.
Break away but expect to be rejected, attacked and crucified for it.
Jesus was.
Women love drama dripping with power. That they understand.
Hmmm…,interesting read,in some ways reminds me of the parable of the sheep.As it is almost beer o clock on the East Coast will have a few and read again.
Oh…..,Hi Stucky,glad to see you back
I do like cold Corona James. I’d sit have a beer with ya and move on to other topics by the second.
Do you like yours with Lyme?
Lyme/lime,hmmmmm……..
Saw a meme that said:
Man with Corona virus seeking woman with Lyme disease.
I thought that was so funny I used it.
You’ve been on my mind the last few days. Really glad to hear from you, especially in this way.
Great read, as always.
Here, here! Great to hear from ya Stucky!!
I was about four when you wrote that.
Thanks for that post.
hello jc on a bike
I was barely born when you wrote it
stucky this is JC Onabike who mags found riding the streets of pittsburg wailing out biology lessons to passersby
i think he is cute
I was a lad of 13 when the Stuckman was in college,had been to about 30 concerts by that point,was a dirt bike fanatic,was wondering how girls could not like me(still am @ times)/and,well,just enjoying life.I will say actually,despite all the negative news,am still enjoying life(of course,a few beers/good tunes have helped there).
JC, I am calling it a night. Stucky? Paula is correct… JC is the new Biking Biologist on TBP. I hired him while you were away. He’s perfect for the position.
And, I realize there really wasn’t an opening for a Biking Biologist, but when one showed up on my radar screen, I couldn’t resist.
21 ¶ Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven.
22 Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works?
23 And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity.
Welcome back Sir.
On my third Guinness, haven’t drank since Pa deer camp.
God does exist. We get there through Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit and understanding the Bible, not because of organized religion and its many false precepts. Salvation is a very personal matter best achieved by Bible study and Prayer.
Am very much looking forward to your active return and incites.
Why would this post get negged?I may not personally agree with it but feel we all find our own paths that work for us.
I will say Guinness not me choice in ale,but still no need to neg!
Good to read you again.
Thinking about women in Crawledge gives me flashbacks.
Have been looking for a church community to join, it is not easy. So many Godless assemblies. Also do not want Kung Flu virus with coffee after the service. Good luck all.
I see why you got an A+. Outstanding piece!
ignore the downvoters Danny, i’m tracking ’em
You were up kind of late last night for an old granny, weren’t you?
Paulita put the sexy in sexy granny.
I will put up a hilarious image she sent me on Valentine’s day…
Hold on.
Okay, you got about ten minutes to see this then it is coming down. She will kick my ass if she sees this here…
I really am a blabbermouth.
You are too late… I just took it down.
And, there’s an adorable picture of Otto with the rose, too.
It’s gone! Just email it to me, I’m sure there was no privacy act notice attached to it?
ok it is cute but silly… will make you like Paula even more. Your wife probably hates me in theory but in real life, she and I would get along great. Not like Airman Rangel’s wife, though…
When I was in the training squadron as an instructor my supervisor was a SMSgt named Randy Brashears and I adored him. He was a competent guy with a great sense of humor but he had a slight lisp, which meant he called me Marfa.
I met his wife and then she and I became BFFs and he got jealous and yelled at me one night because I was supposed to be his friend.
It is exciting having Stucky around and J.C. in the House. Played Eric Clapton’s 24 Nights for almost an hour today.
We should get a head start on Who is on the Bike? In case it goes viral.
Get it? Goes Viral.
Wonderful post Stucky…so glad to read that you are back.
On balance I have always preferred small group Bible Studies then big services.
Sometimes they can be a show, a lecture, a business meeting, a meeting of various cliques…depends on the Preacher and most of the people.
Was in a church for 20 years (started as a brand new Believer) that went from 12 people meeting in a HS gym to 1,500 members in 3 buildings, in 15 years, and 80% of the members came through first time confessions of faith.
They also planted half a dozen other Churches of similar type – no stain glass and no one getting rich.
Every penny was published and handed out to every member.
Many of those Church gatherings and experiences were/are indescribable in their impact on broken lives. Including mine.
No stained glass in those buildings…no one got wealthy…from this world.
What a time it was. Then I bought the farm and moved away to live rural…it was time.
However, I would have no problem attending a small home Church 52 weeks a year. That is what my current weekly small group Bible Study is like.
Mark,again,why the neg?I have always despite not being a “religious ” person in the typical sense have always had a respect for the stained glass/the statues/ceiling frescoes ect. in that I thought all this was a persons way of tying together their spiritual world with their physical/daily world.Yes,could the efforts be spent on other things but feel a balance is nice,this coming from someone who at best relates with pagan/druid/animist beliefs,feel the spiritual side of life connects in different ways to folks in how they will connect.
James,
I think we are coming at it from two different angles on what ‘stained glass’ means to us individually.
My bad.
My view of ‘stained glass’ is the very expensive cathedral I attended, and rejected as a boy. The rectory was quite an ostentatious building as well, and the priests always drove Cadillacs.
The people were all dressed formerly, everyone seemed stiff, masses were by rote, were grim, and in a language I didn’t understand.
I will never forget being in the ‘stained glass’ cathedral in 1963 (I was 13) and Father Always Angry pounded and yelled at all of us about THE TITHE…where was the 10%??? What was coming in was not enough! He literally pounded the podium, his face was beet red.
My coal miner/factory worker Father was so incensed about the tongue lashing Father Always Angry gave everyone he was never, ever inside a church again, including during his funeral.
Thirty years later my broken, wounded, bleeding spirit found people who started meeting to study the Bible in a HS Gym. Four years later, with donated land, we built our first ‘modest building’ that was filled with worship, joy, saved lives and saved eternities. The music was a contemporary ‘joyful noise’, some hands were raised in the air, occasionally even mine! Loud laughter was common, Jesus Christ and the Bible were revealed in details that exploded in my heart. The place was full of alcoholics, adulterators, drug addicts, scarred victimized people of all types and stripes, you name the sin or the grief… and we had the sinner or the person.
Tithing was rarely spoken about…but was overflowing. We eventually built three buildings with no debt. The leaders were paid and it was published…and in my mind was not enough.
When we moved into retirement and rural Farming 2o years later we left, but found a solid small local church, and a rock solid smaller Bible Study group.
So, that is my story and how I see ‘stained glass’.
Sorry, I should have given more back story. I regret if I offended any denomination. I don’t belong to any individual denomination, I’m just redeemed.
Mark,been a long day,will read your response again and take it into thought.
Been a read we all need to consider,no offense here nor think any looking at big pic.
Best of luck to all of us regardless of past/history.
It all becomes some sort of show, doesn’t it? I am thankful this morning that the Good Lord set me down in this place with enough food and preps to just be ready and not have to panic.
I’m glad I gave away all those beans to the food pantry last year. I’d hate to show up with stuff like that now… it might raise too many eyebrows.
Redeemed how I love to proclaim it, redeemed by the blood of a lamb. Fine old tune, mark…
Great post, Mark !
Little jealous of ya….my family was Lutheran over a 150 yrs on the maternal side. As a family, we never missed that Sunday church service in a Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod …..there were some nice people, but for the most part
“They were of and for themselves, and that was all they were. They gathered themselves faithfully once each week. In this they were consistent, but without apparent reason.”
“They kept themselves unblemished and were next to God in their minds, and without was next to hell.”
…..in their minds…….
When my older brother turned 18, he never stepped back in a Lutheran church (or any other for that matter) until the day of dad’s funeral….kind of his way of throwin some rocks thru the window, I guess.
annuit coeptis novus ordo seclorum <<——===
Maybe Stucky will get squared away in his new digs, then write us a story about a weekend getaway to a syrup farm…..
ordo ab chao,
Thanks buddy.
One problem in my family is many of them confused/confuse false prophets with God, dead churches and twisted man made doctrine with the gospel of Jesus Christ.
I’m not picking on any denomination there are false prophets and dead churches in them all.
Plus, perverted cults abound.
But when you find oa church that is alive it is a wonderful refuge.
The gate really is narrow.
You have to seek out the truth yourself, for yourself, it’s between you and Him. No one can do it for you, and you can’t do it for anyone…no matter how much you love them.
just the phantom shitter no worries
Wow!! And YET …. you are STILL writing!! Good on you! It’s good to see that the deceased have an internet connection in heaven. Tell my Munchkin to drop me a note.
Thank you for changing the subject from the Kung Flu.
We lost the weirdest things the last time we moved.
did you see that hilarious song
I did ! I’m trying to get it outta my head!
have some more of them craft beers
My son’s kindergarten class performed this when I was homeroom Mom. I filmed it, of course, but this is not his class. Actually, after watching this again, I think I will upload my son’s class video to my You Tube Channel. It is such a wonderful song to teach to kids. And for us all to listen to… I posted it below in an Anon comment to Stucky, who is special to me, although I was NEVER going to shake his hand.
Because he wasn’t always the kind thoughtful guy he is now.
Grannies on Gravel will be my next proposal for a Feature.
Come on… Grannies on Gravel with a Gigantic Dog.
another work in progress…
Well,if some of what you lost is socks is nothing new,we all lose in supposedly in the dryer.Personally,feel they go off to another dimension/reality along with keys/money/sometimes ideas.
No big thing till we start getting the others sides versions of sock/keys/monies/ideas ect. from that side of the equation,then,it gets interesting!
Yo Stuck! Good to see you man
From the essay:
I know what that’s like.
This one was a little confusing because I loved the title “Have The Courage To Break The Stained Glass Windows In Your Church“. In my view, it resonated as an allegorical plea for open-mindedness and even a challenge to tear-down conventional constructs and dogmatic adherence to errant ideologies.
But taken literally, not so much because of my personal affinity for stained glass
Religion is a racket.
Excellent writing Stucky, but please tell me why you could never settle on one particular religion? I am not in favor of reconstructing Christianity, I just don’t like the big business it has become. If anything needs destructive stones hurled in it’s direction, it is tv seed evangelists.
Joe Average is not in church to become a better person, that is proven by looking at his works. He doesn’t care about being a godly person. Are we really here to be guided by ungodly religions?
I have a friend who likes to say: “Religion is for people afraid of going to hell. Spirituality is for people who’ve been there“.
but do you have courage i didn’t see any around you when hollywood rob was terrorizing my girl
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IkdmOVejUlI
It’s because you’re all Maggie.
you smell like an asshole but you are not that asshole
You have a nose for assholes. Remind me not to turn my back on you.
Whomever you are? All Maggie All The Time!
My Nick tend to like it that way, and another Nick likes me just the way I am, too.
Paula, I appreciate it but it won’t happen again.
+1000 Uncola. Turn or burn never translates into serving the source of the light.
So, I guess if you’ve been in a gay bar, you’ll come out all spiritual and shit?
And ifn a gay bar has been in you, then you’ve been face to face with the Creator?
who says ifn
don’t mess with my hombre
Can Catholicism capture or explain the essence of God? If so, than that religion is Too Small.
Can Protestantism capture or explain the essence of God? If so, than that religion is Too Small.
Can Judaism capture or explain the essence of God? If so, than that religion is Too Small.
Can Hinduism capture or explain the essence of God? If so, than that religion is Too Small.
I think you get the picture. Religion IS a racket … whose sole reason for being is to perpetuate itself (survival) … and they do this by exerting power and control over their members. I have no time for that.
What? But the Mssr. Sticky icon is a crusader? Damn, at this rate I might become socially acceptable. It’s a miracle!
How much power could these religions maintain if the faithful took the money out of the equation? Zip, zero, nada.
It’s a money racket along with the control.
Catholics invented Purgatory to bilk the dead’s estate from their children.
Mags- The church used to offer some strength to a community, Catholic charities used to run hospitals and help the poor. What happened to that?
Baptist preachers used to keep the flock on the straight and narrow, now they welcome the married gay couples on the front row every Sunday and many churches are run by the gays.
EDIT: But don’t forget to put 10% of your income in the plate when they pass it around cuz Jesus needs moar money.
Haven’t much to say these days..having withered somewhat since the onset of this virus…
Did watch a Great movie last week..
There is a quote from the movie at 21:25 that I found very profound
We must make an idol of our fear and that idol we shall call God….
There is so much packed into 1 hour and 36 minutes…
It was a timely movie to watch and weirdly uplifting..
I was thinking about you …. wondering why you haven’t posted in a while … maybe I just missed it … or maybe you bought the farm. Good to see you are still inhaling. And, exhaling, of course.
You are spot on. That is a most excellent quote!!
I have been wandering in the desert.
Hoping for now it won’t take 40 years …
Haven’t bought the farm quite yet
But virus going around
Is having a surprising effect.
Haven’t succumbed to fear and panic.
Still fashioning myself a Jester
livin’ on the edge.
singing from the stage of The Seventh Seal…
The horse sits in the tree and crows
The road is wide but the door is low
The Black One dances on the beach
The hen meows in the darkest lake
The horse The Day is red but the fish is dead..
The Black one Squats on the beach.
The Snake flutters in heaven’s heights
The Virgin is pale but the pussy shows delight
The Black One runs on the beach
The ram hisses with his teeth apart
The gust is harsh and the waves dart
The Black One farts on the beach..
The horse sits in the tree and crows
The road is wide but the door is low
The Black One dances on the beach
The hen meows in the darkest lake
The day is red but the fish is dead
The Black One squats on the beach
The snake flutters in heaven’s heights
The Virgin is pale but the pussy shows delight
The Black One runs on the beach
The sow lays and the cat sows
The Night is blighted and Darkness Glows
The Black One remains, remains
Remains, remains on the beach..
Still some days I give in,
to the spectacle of the Maw.
Their flails whipping
Leading the Procession to Farce
Vainly Squaring the circle
in hopes of deliverance for All….
I wish I had moar to say right now…
And yet happy to see you writing again.
Helping me break glass windows…. standing
and keeping me on the stage
“Stucky a new, Bible thumping, hard core, born-again believer” have you been baptized in the Holy Spirit?
Have you?
Kalaske schante oghum mura fetag ug muhr shakalaka boom boom est al!
There, ya see? Not only can I speak in tongues … I can write in tongues!!
So, I suppose, the answer is, yeah ah bin baptahzed in da Holeeghost.
Glad to see writing again, Stuck.
“silence of the black robes at the front of the holy place”
“Inside the black robes was another of themselves, speaking to them in hollow, contentless, silent, undisturbing, reassuring words.”
“His words plundered in surging echoes upon them, threatening their strength and the beauty of their windows. His gestures met their eyes and captured them. They were hearing truth and cringing away, frightened and stupid about what to do.”
Do you know why I fell in love with the things you write, Lumberjack? You are not afraid to use active voice. You have just about the MOST active voice I’ve ever read, my father’s booming prose aside because he was a world-class FlimFlam man, while you are just flat stuck in New Jersey.
When Poppa Grooch died, Nick was holding his hand and felt him let go. He said he sensed the moment his Dad left his body and my husband had an out-of-body very close to death experience (the tunnel thing) early in his life which makes him more willing to pay attention to spiritual issues than the average man.
He called me and asked me to come because he sensed Poppa was there. My son and I got there in a few minutes and my son, my husband and I stayed until his body was taken from the room to be prepared for the flight to Cleveland. My son, who had done his time “in the trenches” with his grandfather over the previous months (18 then), said “Grandpa looks like he can finally breathe without it hurting.”
And, do you know what? I took a picture of Poppa right then because my son was right. He looked better and more comfortable than he had in a couple of months. He looked like he was sleeping peacefully. I’m so glad my son got to see him laying there not struggling for each and every gasp of air, finally. It was actually a nice final scene.
There were moments I had chillbumps because we went through all those photo albums Poppa had talked us through again and again * and we realized that his spirit was departing soon to be with all those crazy Italians in the sky, Lord, in the sky.
My son’s kindergarten class performed this when I was homeroom Mom. I filmed it, of course, but this is not his class.
Actually, after watching this again, I think I will upload my son’s class video to my You Tube Channel. I’m going to start sharing stuff from here there, particularly the Biking Biologist. He is now the official TBP Biologist on a Bike… that can very easily be The Bootheel Platform and I’ve got that great PAINTING as a background.
And, now… I’m done with my morning ramble for Nick from New Jersey and need to go give the other Nick a hug. Maybe some therapy.
* Poppa’s short term memory was so bad but his long term so good we could “choose” which album we wanted Poppa to explain to us like this… Do you want the Trip to Italy book or the Reunions in Cleveland book? And, as long as he could look through the pictures and say a few words, it made us all smile.
(And, yes, the nursing staff cleaned him and prepared him for the mortician. There are other final releases people do not discuss but ought to because the very last thing you are going to do is shit your pants.)
and this is Martha aka Maggie but if you didn’t already know that after “Do you know why I fell in love with the things you write, Lumberjack?” you do not know what you think you know.
I had not seen this from last May. Last summer was a rough one for us all, wasn’t it?
I like how this switches viewpoint and lets the viewer look at their faces. I’m wondering if such a viewpoint switch is possible on a bike helmet camera?
Stucky? You know how I used to be all rabbits all the time, then all goats all the time, then all sick all the time? Well, now I’m all into “Biologist on a Bike” which reminds me of the story about my dad I want to tell you.
I’ll do it right here.
Hot Dog on a Stick (summarized from Wikipedia)
Dave Barham (June 13, 1913 – March 25, 1991) was an American business entrepreneur who founded the fast-food chain, Hot Dog on a Stick. Barham is also credited with being the originator of the stick in the corn dog. Barham died in 1991 from cancer and left the Hot Dog on a Stick franchise to his employees, making it the nation’s only 100 percent employee owned and operated fast food restaurant chain.
Born in Bell City, Missouri, Barham, lived his youth on a farm. He traveled frequently to nearby mid-western cities such as St. Louis and Chicago. In these two large cities, he was exposed to big city atmosphere. Barham’s favorite snacks were corn dogs and hot dogs and he recognized a real need for a hot dog restaurant.
The first Hot Dog on a Stick was opened in 1946 by Muscle Beach in Santa Monica, California.
The first restaurant ever in a mall was a Hot Dog on a Stick franchise in Murray, Utah.
I met Dave Barham at my father’s farm while I was on leave in the 1980s. He’d heard about my father’s POW antics, having read newspaper articles my father published in the local papers for decades. My father introduced me to him and when he asked me where I lived, he got a little book out of his pocket and told me which malls in Oklahoma City had Hot Dog on a Stick restaurants and gave me a stack of coupons for a bunch of free hot dogs on sticks.
I calmly asked him how long it had taken to come up with the idea and the name for his restaurant. I looked at my father, expecting to see a twinkle in his eye, because I was being a smart-ass, as you must realize. My father gave me the “be careful” look and so I was.
Mr. Barham explained his background and love for corn dogs and how he figured out how to put them on sticks so people could walk around and eat them and my father and I listened politely. Because, in 1946, when the man realized a hot dog on a stick would be a good way to eat a hot dog, he put a lot of thought into how to make it happen. And it made him a rich man who traveled out of his way to visit a dirt farmer in the Bootheel and his daughter who happened to be visiting.
He did not deserve for me to try to mock him for what really was a good idea and who has not eaten a corn dog on a stick? Well, I met the man who invented a way to get a hot dog to stay on a stick.
That man gave his entire life’s work to his employees when he died.
His appears to have been a life well lived and I’m honored to have met him.
Maggie, Oh Maggie, you have always always been been there for me with your words of kindness and encouragement. And yeah, I surely DO love you just the way you are.
I’m not even sure, really, what “active voice” means. With apologies to Popeye the Sailor Man … I just writes the way I writes.
Your hot-dog-stick story was most interesting … especially since you met the guy. The most famous person I ever met was Dr. Werner von Braun. Really. But, there’s not much of a story behind that.
Blessings, Sweet Maggie. Blessings.
Honored to have met you too, Stucky.
I have been learning a lot about Dr. von Braun. He is all tied into the idea that technology has its own set of inalienable rights. Not to mention that all those German scientists were brought lock, stock and filing cabinet into the country and given high paying positions at, guess where? You might find some at Johns Hopkins Universty as early as the 50s.
von Braun believed scientists have the right to do whatever science thinks it needs to have done
Is that a fair assessment or do I need to go to class with the biologist on the bike?
Shamelessly plugging the efforts of this guy to make a difference.
Maggie,
Are you Forest Gump’s long lost sister?
I could be channeling her. The muses are shouting into my ears from the second heaven.
Today, I opened my essay on the Sweet Savage Love Theme (which is amazingly connected to the usual suspects, Freud, Bernays and Henry Luce, et. al.)
I have not saved anything to it since January 4th because it led me to the WHO and Global Family Planning initiatives and I was already kneedeep in the Bill and Melinda Gates foundation history and agenda when the Coronavirus popped up on tthe radar screen and I saved one of Surfer Dudes papers to my hard drive.
Here it is.
This is the day I stumbled upon Allan Weisbecker, whose research takes him face-to-face with other independent researchers. He is rude because he knows what’s coming and what is out there.
I did not share this here, unless it was in a comment, but his approach to research and interviewing people caught my eye. (sometimes it almost looks like badgering, but he makes the point.)
How could I share it here. He suggests we might have gone to the moon. Everyone here knows that’s just a big fat lie, don’t they? Or at least they better mumble something about being open to the idea, as I do.
But, Allan has videos of aircraft flying across the sky in the desert that do not seem like they should be there doing what they do and I suppose that qualifies him as a nut job, but if you have lurked there as I so and seen some of the people who drop a line or a BOMBSHELL there from time to time, then he deletes it as not on topic (and a lot aren’t but a lot are really good links to really interesting and timely stuff… obviously good sources.) So, since Allan deletes them after I saw them, I really can’t credit them to his page. Can I?
So, life has a certain rhythm and pattern. There are patterns and design in everything. Even in our being here trying to find answers in a world gone half-assed crazy.
The Hindus believe you travel through your life with a Karass, a group with whom you serve the will of the Divine, though you do not know your role. However, when compelled to answer the Divine, either you do so or you will not move through to the next phase of your reincarnation.
There’s this thing about religious people. They know miracles happen and they believe the power of the Lord has blessed their lives.
“But,” they mutter as I stand and proclaim I am guilty but forgiven, “she did bad things and she doesn’t deserve the blessings of the Lord. She is lying. She has to prove to us that she’s forgiven.”
God gives the miracle and the blessing and the forgiveness and he does not have to ask your fucking permission.
Me?
Tar Baby Don’t Say Nothin’
I look around at the people who don’t believe in God and they are a mess. Hate is what I see a lot of in our society.
“It’s a glimpse of Stucky when he was a new, Bible thumping, hard core, born-again believer.”
LOL!!! Good one… made my day!
Good to see you back!!
So true Stucky. Religion can save no one. Because like the personal loving relationship we have with our spouse when everything is right changes us from the inside out naturally. So our loving personal relationship with our Creator does the same thing spiritually. Making flesh and blood spirit, the water to wine, that is then equipped to inherit what is spirit. The kingdom of God.
Blessings:-}
Thank you for thinking of us and sharing that.
I’m pleased to know you’re cutting chaff at the present as it’s a great time of year to begin making the best of it all.
I deeply regret using such a fine essay to post this. I also hope I’m not being redundant. Thank you.
https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/google-tracked-his-bike-ride-past-burglarized-home-made-him-n1151761
J.C. emailed and is going to pop on for some Q&A… I told him that’s the way to introduce the idea and get real feedback.
He’s actually researching for the next episode!
Dang. In substance how would you know I didn’t write that? What is so great about it? What is the interpretation? It suggest to me death to Christcucks. That’s not what you see. I have no idea what you self-identifying Christians see in the story. I’m not convinced it’s a metaphor for patriotism. Why does that resonate with you people? It’s not consistent with the teachings of Jesus, unless the mysterious executioner is Jesus or other God aspect. Well, that must be it. I guess.
None of you know. You just like the power narrative.
There is not much room in my church for feminist, man-hating lesbians. Women have voted in good faith and held office in good faith in Utah territory for 150 years in 2020, and for 100 years this August in the U.S.A.
However, when any GOOD MAN can be destroyed with false witnesses, bogus sex crime accusations, restraining orders, and so on- the Republic is on fire and burning down. The monumental attempted character assassination of Trump (as with Reed Smoot before him) has only been delayed a few months before it resurfaces.
I’d rather be judged by 12 (apostles) than carried by 6. Especially when Earthly courts, CONgress included, have failed men so badly and there is no path to honor remaining in present society.
Hey .22. Have you been to SLC lately? It was a bit globo homo’d out. Not what I expected.
Definitely not the old days.
Breaking windows and offending religious nuts is what makes my wife laugh. She laughs when she sees men dumping a drink on a chick. I suppose it has something to do with those mean girls, the cool cholas, at Garfield HS who tripped her as she was walking with her lunch tray. But even before then, she said she laughed when she saw a dude clinging to a bus in Salvador fall off when he tried to cross himself as the bus passed a church. This is the chick who yawned at a sermon not with a stifle but a loud arrgghh.
I was more on your wavelength than that. My wife gets spooked by scenes like that. But I understood those people feeling so smug, so pure, cloaked in their race and world hegemony trying to filter out all the diversity and bad thoughts of miscegenation and anal sex. Dreaming of a shining city somewhere inhabited by white people with long flowing golden hair.
Were you channeling Desiderata? The folks here, women actually, blocking out all contagion of men’s filthy minds. Attempting to reach heaven like a swami attempting flight. What was that old affirmative action message? A life is a terrible thing to waste. Following some program or plan, making sacrifices god never asked for. Different sects showing up, knocking on heaven’s door, the Jehova Witnesses, the Nazis, Klansmen, Israelites and La Raza.
Lt. Col. Frank Slade : But not the lonely!
Mr. Trask : Excuse me?
Lt. Col. Frank Slade : No, I don’t think I will.
Mr. Trask : Mr. Slade…
Lt. Col. Frank Slade : This is such a crock of SHIT.
Mr. Trask : Please watch your language, Mr. Slade. You are in the Sacred Heart School, not a barracks. Mr Stuck, I will give you one last opportunity to speak up.
Lt. Col. Frank Slade : Mr. Stuck doesn’t want it. He doesn’t need to labeled, “Still worthy of being a white man”. What the hell is that? What is your motto here? “Men, build a rat’s nest, save your hide. Anything short of that, we’re gonna burn you at the stake”? Well, gentlemen, when the shit hits the fan, some guys run and some guys stay. Here’s Stucky facing the fire and there’s Yokes hiding in Uncle Adolph’s pocket. And what are you doing? You’re gonna reward Yokes and destroy Stucky.
I don’t have a bucket list. But, if I did have a bucket list, do you know what would be in the Top 5? Meeting you in person. Not kidding.
Lordy, lordy, I do so enjoy your posts!!!!!
Well…July 4th Farm Fiesta may provide the perfect opportunity.
EC and I are now coordinating on a post we put up weekly as a response to Captain Kangaroo and the Culture Club’s efforts to turn the monkey tribe into decent people.
I titled it Twofer Tuesday and posted the first one on a Wednesday when Monday was a holiday and how the hell do I know what day it is I had brain surgery five times.
So, now it is Red Rope and Coyote’s Day-Late Twofer Tuesday. Unless we change the name again. But, Wednesday’s good because everybody knows what day that is!
A card from the other Martha… the calligrapher.
I think we have already met in a cosmic way, Nick from New Jersey. The Hindu have a name for it… a karass.
I just went and got a fairly good explanation of what it means, if you are not familiar with Kurt Vonnegut’s term for what TBP appears to be.
I went to a page to get a good summary of what a Karass is…
What is a concept of Karass?
Michael Dixon, wonderer (you gotta appreciate a guy who admits he just wonders)
Answered Apr 25 2019 ·
A karass is a “team [of people] that do[es] God’s Will without ever discovering what they are doing”. [ 1 ] Humanity is organized into many such teams. One can try to discover “the limits of [one’s] karass and the nature of the work God Almighty has had it do … but such investigations are bound to be incomplete.”
I think somebody ought to write an essay about the TBP Karass and then have a biologist on a bike talk about the concept as a systems theory question.
It’s just another kind of schematic diagram. In 4D and 5G. J.C. is putting together a bike-ride about the virus and 5G. God’s work indeed. Did Maureen ride bikes because when I went looking for a viewpoint about the virus from a bike (almost exactly what I looked for online) and saw JC on a bike and watched one of his earlier rides, I assumed he was an adjunct professor blogging to his class! And I thought it was brilliant.
But, the thing is? I wasn’t looking for that kind of biker. I was looking for the other kind.
Which is why I think Marc Moran even thinks this is hilarious. I went looking for a Harley-riding Newscaster and found a biologist on a bicycle in Pittsburg. If that isn’t Divine intervention or the systemic working of the Karass system, I don’t know what is.
And, all you velocipastors who think I’m blaspheming by suggesting anything about the Hindu philosophy might be Divine can just do what Stucky would tell you to do.
Mags, you’ve turned googling into an artform.
I know… googling as an artform.
My search (start page) for Scientist/Biker/Journalism brought us J.C. on a bike.
We’ve been missing you something terrible. There’s no way to sugar coat it, even the Trumpeteers have lost their will to fight. And Q-ball shitfests have deteriorated into a ‘who cares less’ contest; that’s nice, whatever.
Some more stuff I found ….
Buried deep in the attic, in a suitcase, in a bag …. at least 40 – 50 love letters to me from KJR. We dated throughout my four years of college. In fact, we were engaged to be married right after graduation. That is, before I fucked up (literally). Again, I had totally forgotten that I even kept the letters. Of course, I read them, and they were really beautiful … KJR really truly loved me.
So, just for the heck of it, I decided to google her … just to see what happened to her, where she’s living, etc. Curiosity, nothing more. I’m just four months older than her. I always wondered why someone as pretty as her would hook up with me … but what I really wanted to see was how she aged. Vain sonuvabitch that I am. I found a picture of her.
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It’s the only picture I could find of her. And the only reason that picture is there is because …. SHE DIED …. about 5 years ago at the age of 62. A person I once dearly loved, dead at 62 of natural causes. Holy shit. It was quite a shock to me. Even more shocking was that her only sister died at the age of 51!
Recently I discovered that my high school class valedictorian (1970) … who got a doctorate in engineering from Stanford also died.
Holy shit on a corn dog!!! People all around me that are MY AGE are dropping like flies. I am not happy about this. No, not at all.
I had a thought like that recently. I was commenting that many people were in the race ahead of me and many behind. I passed a few who had been way ahead. Folks don’t know when they charge ahead, what they will find.
We are living overtime, buddy. Folks used to die in their 60’s and from the emails at work, they still do. Black, white, male, female, they go one day.
OT, I had a crush on a girl like her. I suppose it was the blue eye shadow that got me. I wrote her a mash letter. I never got a reply. I swore off white girls right then. That was a time when Austin HS still had white kids. They all left and we inherited (if that’s the correct word) a first-class school that some would say went downhill in less than 20 years. But some of us lucky few enjoyed the gift of wonderful teachers there. Years later they recognized Mr Bode but even if she is not mentioned, Stella Trambley was certainly one of the best there, memorable for her kooky ways like a Maggie here. I even wrote a song parody for her, I won’t be able to find it, though. I don’t keep a file of my comments.
How does one die of “natural” causes at 62? Sounds like some bad juju.. Fortunately, one can ward off the bad juju. So this history doesn’t have to be that destiny.
You assume there is a life guarantee. I’m shocked to learn of such things but if they say natural causes, it could mean they were not in an accident or got murdered. One day, the ticker gave out. It happens. You don’t know how many nights I have gone to bed wondering seriously if I will wake up the next morning. You must be a young pup if you never had those thoughts.
EC, you are eternal. Whether you like it or not.
After our breakup I lost virtually all contact with her.
However, I have my suspicions ….. she had diabetes since she was in grade school …. 50 years of diabetes likely wrecked havoc on her body until she succumbed
Could be what happened to her sister.
Hey… you may have sworn off white girls but did the white girls swear off you? I don’t think so… that redhead seems to think you are cute, too. And Paula thinks you are quite fun.
And I’m not thinking what you think I’m thinking but if Stucky comes to visit me and camps out in the barn or treehouse or stays in our guest room for a night or two, we will take a road trip to meet Mary Christine and you know who too. If that happens? you will have to make an effort. Call BB.
(Two nights is the limit unless a visitor is willing to stay in the basement for long periods with Eric Clapton’s 24 nights playing loudly.)
C’mon, I love white girls, I just meant I gave up, it was a ridiculous dream anyway.
She’s stunning. I would have enjoyed getting some counseling from her. My therapist looks like Judge Judy. She’s kind of mean like her too.
That may explain why I don’t seem to get better.
Maybe, but I think the worm has turned on that one. Today it may be much more difficult to stand beneath those stained glass windows and say “I believe”.
I could never, ever destroy a beautiful piece of stained glass. But I did muster the courage recently to attend confession. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been a really, really, really, really, really long time since my last confession. I condensed a lot.
If it was easy, everybody would do it. But Stuck is not asking anybody to destroy church property. He is talking about the filters and nose gays we invent, sort of like the 3D glasses you can buy to live in a world of virtual reality. You think those suicide monkeys that dream of a heavenly reward of 72 virgins don’t live in a make believe world?
That scene was what Stuck saw and he rejected it because it was fake; fake red light, fake spirituality, fake worship. They fucking weren’t worshiping anybody, they had managed to turn their life into that of a clam. Clams don’t belong in heaven, they belong in clam chowder.
I kinda get what you’re dishin’. Delusions.
Ohhhhh… you are in the karass too. I just submitted a piece to Admin about mass delusion.
JC… this is a sick disorder you will acquire if you hang out here too much. We get Centuritis and try to claim the comments that land on the hundred points.
Admin gave up trying to make the monkeys pay attention or focus. It is how the place grew to be what a wonderful gathering of minds it is.
100. I win!
Congratulations. I was hoping to get TS out here. I wanted to talk about his newest SciFi Fantasy book.
Here I be!
Been a balls-to-wall week, give or take. This is the first time I’ve been able to do more than scan the headlines, for a few days. This AM is a breather, perusing the comment with a pot of coffee and enjoying the prospect of a slower day ahead of me. Still lots to do, but at a slower pace.
I’ve got animal pens to clean and poop to scoop but I’ll pop in later… we’ll chat then.
Diablogging… you heard it here first. Say hello to TBP’s new Biologist on a Bike, by the way. He’s researching our latest questions while we talk about story lines and character development.
It’s good to be narrator and you know what I mean.
Mag;
OK, I’ve taken a deep breath and am willing to face the kraken… what’s your verdict on my – just so you’ll know, not to influence your opinion you understand – life’s work that will destroy me utterly if there is so much as even a lessening of complete and awed approbation?
But by all means, be honest. 😉
Are you kidding? You have so many plates spinning in my head and I know that even though you have some ideas for where they will go, I’m seeing plot line potential nuggets all over the place.
No wonder you have ten books planned.
I am too worn out from shoveling shit, literally.
So, you can rest assured I will buy the sequel unless you tell me how it ends. But, as we know, if you do that, you will never write it.
We will cross paths again and I will tell you my favorite parts and even, if you ask, mention the things that bother me.
It appears you are part of the Karass.
Thank you for that, Mag. I’m glad you like it.
Wait ’till you read my westerns; the one I’m on right now is over half done and going nicely.
Good on ya, Mate.
I don’t know if you “met” J.C., but he’s a natural and I am thinking LLPOH may accept him into the tribe without having to run him through the wringer.
But, but… that’s a rite of passage. Where would we be without that such traditions?
Oh, I told him to expect to get some pushback and he’s looking forward to arguing with people who think they know what they do not know.
But, as far as having everyone trying to look in his underwear drawer for skidmarks, I think that shit needs to stop.
But, Jews, you know.
I’ve got the courage to not only throw those rocks, but to point out which windows need to be smashed to others.
And sometimes we run up against this —-
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Good to see you posting again Stucky.
It’s not good to drink alone. It’s not even good to drink, it ages you. Wish I’d known that at 15, I would look 40 now instead of an old dude.
I emailed it your way
Got it! Too bad she’s young enough to be my daughter. What’s her mom look like?
That is Paula and she’s a Gen X gal. Her daughter, mother of Otto? She looks like she’s TEN to me. She used to come swim in our pool when she was ten and she looks the same.
I don’t know if it’s an Indian thing or a genetic thing, but she and shelby are like Winona and Naomi Judd… which one is the daughter?
I started to say welcome back but realized that I really meant thanks for being back. You give us a lot to think about here on TBP.
Tick tock…
https://www.cnbc.com/quotes/?symbol=US10Y
Nice to see you up and around, Stucky.
Interesting read. I don’t relate very well because I never got involved in any what I would consider organized religion on that scale. One time, when I was a teen, my aunt – a member of a Bible Baptist church – tried to sweet talk me into going to her church because “you’ll meet some really nice girls there”. I told her, point blank, that if I ever went to church it wouldn’t be to chase girls. She didn’t know what to say to that. Now, if I was that young man again and knew what I know now, I would consider that a nice side-benefit, just not a motivation.
Blessings, Racooninator.
Is that all there is? Every young person in America has a raging, truth-telling moment where they rail against religion, the gubmint, their parents, etcetera. For me it was after I joined a Buddhist sect and excoriated Catholicism, my former religion. At age 71, I see it for what it was. Nothing ‘enlightening’ in this piece of writing; it seems like most of what I saw in junior college magazines.. No there there. Our slowly rotting culture, our peaceful, organized space for learning about ourselves and others, was brought to you by Christianity. And what will we have when it is completely washed away by the garbage (woke) culture? Nothing. Nothing but religious fanatics, woke fools. Anyway, I come here occasionally for some insight. Today I’m finding some stupid trunk story from somebody’s attic that sheds no light on anything or anybody.