Vomitoriums. Men's ileums displayed in beasts' ileums
Which Roman Soldiers lacerate.
All get stipends, and spend them
On Spectacles
Of men being eaten by bears
And those bear's being cut open
To see half digested human flesh.
Bread and Circuses.
Stipends paying everyone's way
So none work;
Foreign wars pay for this bliss:
Catamites in the bathhouses;
Sodomites in the bathhouses.

Child sacrifice;---birthing the child
And then boiling it in breast milk.
Having orgies on the mountains.
Ritualistic cannibalism;
Human sacrifice;
Child Prostitution; Sun Worship;
Legalized Murder,
Rape and theft.
For it is Religion which makes all violence sacred.

This was the past.
Love is not a natural thing
Humans understand.
This is Humanism
Because it is human.
So what changes the hearts of men
Allowing a paradise upon the earth
Succored by love, affection and general good will and charity
Is Jesus.

As a brother once said,
"The first generation sees Christ's morals
"And claims they are natural to man.
"A second generation sees man, 
"And claims Christ is unnatural to him.
"A third generation comes---
"And how nigh it is--- and sees all that Christ spoke
"And calls it abomination."

Christ, Moses, Abraham, Melchizedek,
Their rituals of peace
Travelled the silk roads,
Travelled the Roman Highways,
Those the words of life.
Ought we question them and where they came from,
What does follow is a slow backslide
From a supernatural state of bliss
To the very hells found in Rome and Canaan.
Yet, do know it is hell
For they were but flesh
Marked by the Beast;
Nothing more than a mind and body.
Their spirit departed.
And thus, while living, they were dead.

 

The moral of Jacob's wrestling Christ
Is we ought cling to God in prayer
And struggle, even to the point of wounds;
And if we cling to him with all we have
We shall be saved and blessed and our names changed
To "God's Anointed Prince."

I saw in a dream
There were two whom I loved.
The first had with them an ape
And the second had with them a panther.

The one of my beloved walked their ape
Close to the panther
And the two fought a moment's battle.
And I separated the two.

Minutes later, the one of my beloved
Took their ape, and brought it near the panther again.
I warned them not to,
Yet they wished to see the two beasts fight.
The panther, like an agitated beast
Slashed its claws at the ape.
Thus they did take to mortal combat
When the Panther in a rage
Took to swinging its unsheathed claws
At the ape.
The ape became furious
Sofore, grabbed the panther by its neck
And drew the panther into its cage
And sunk its fangs deep into the panther's neck.

I tried to prod the two beasts apart
Who were locked in their battle
But could not separate them
For they were wild with fury
And both were in their bestial rage.

The one with the ape then spake of the panther:
"It looks so dead and soulless."

I woke up disturbed by the dream.

Dear,
Mr. Peterson

First off, I don't advocate Socialism. But, there is a technical flaw in American Society. It isn't fixed in Germany, either, as Brandenburg Airport has been overtaken by corruption. Europe is having problems building its bullet trains. In America, there are old examples of public transport systems being wiped out by automotive companies. There's something fundamentally flawed with capitalism, Jordan. The average man in American society is making below fifteen dollars an hour. They are incapable of accomplishing the work, and must compete for low salary jobs, which offer no job security. Not all of them can master writing like I have, but I have made very little from this craft. So, American society is not a meritocracy. Something prevents my works from being published. Probably a hierarchy of sorts. And with that being said, it is unfortunate, but something in American society must change.

It's not to say that everyone should be earning stipends. There is a corrupt society as well. But, everyone should be free and able to master their skills and earn a living. I've spent fifteen thousand hours on this work, written a copious amount of work. Something near three quarters of a thousand posts just on this blog. Do understand something prevents me from earning my bread, and it isn't talent. But, rather, when I send my works out I get rejection after rejection. There are iron smiths, bakers, landscapers, restaurateurs, writers, musicians, painters, librarians, farmers---the list goes on---who are being priced out of their trades. Farmers are being broken because they cannot compete with the large fields---as the Bible says they "Join Field Unto Field"---growing enough corn to fill the entire landmass of Ireland or Scotland. Painters cannot create in aesthetics because Jackson Polluck is patronized. And you've noticed Disney's craft is awful. But that it is what Disney produces, and billions of dollars are spent, in record numbers, on patronizing those movies. Soon, there will be no movies. Not because of communism, but because of an engine of capitalism. An engine of capitalism which makes Woke Culture lucrative---and it is. It is lucrative for tyrants at the top of the markets, who use these little gremlins to foment wars, and race riots.

You must understand the problem. My being offensive is an engine of capitalism. Because what I say is offensive. And it shouldn't be. You were allowed your portion by men at the very top, to be a Straw Man. I was told in a vision that you would suffice to be my voice. And perhaps I wanted you to do the arduous task. I cannot do it. A part of me is very thankful I haven't gained the things I want. And I don't blame you for it. Yet, I am underneath, a voice of conscience in the ears of great men and women of our times. I do not get paid, but I'm listened to.

But, I understand the economic forces keeping me from gaining my fortune. I have not the money to go to college, nor the time. I am thirty-one, nearly thirty-two. I understand the problems in society were fundamental. I cannot even write my masterpiece, because I see America slipping away into the forgotten strains of history. I do not want it. I don't. I'm not the one pushing it in that direction. I'm the one saying that man must fight---not wear their masks, go out and live their lives. Maybe some of us need to be put in prison. Maybe some of us need to be killed and martyred. But, it is precisely the capitalistic force that is keeping America down. It is profitable to fear monger. It is profitable for great and rich men to force us indoors, and reliant on the umbilical chords of Amazon and Netflix. Rich men are making great fortunes off of our disparity. And it needs to stop.

Should we give up our good manly spirit
And suffer laws which give some men privilege,
We shall be like a man, old, who seeing 
The beauty of a woman's form, knows age 
Has passed, and bitterly snuffs out the flame.

For then the country will cry out against
Freedom, and be angry with all justice. 

At this time, Christians, we should know that the
Foul Grand Inquisitor's words against Christ
Were foolish. For it is precisely our
Weakness that Christ came, forgiving all crimes.
Not to place upon man sin's dark bondage
To suffer man the heartache of working
Off his sins, to struggle with every thought.
No, but rest. a desire to be pure.
Should we sin in any capacity
So long as we have not willfully sinned
It shall be forgiven, and shall be saved.

Thus, Christians, if war comes to our country
And you, having the manly spirit to
Bear up the mantle of our freedoms wrought
By men who intended chaste citizens
To guide and so elect their righteous lot...
It's true that this country was founded by
Christian men, who spilled the blood of tyrants.

Walking through the forest
In the cold and rain... 
The forest is quiet
Lush, the sideweeds are intruding upon the path
Trees lay with fungi upon their trunks
Looking like a dead deer.
Except for a flock of crows
Cawing in disturbed fervor
There is the silence of the rain
Tapping against the umbrella of the canopy.

I walk closer to it,
And the crows stop.
A ministry flows through my mind
As God gave me a poem for the day.
The deer are startled by my presence
Which is unusual.

I feel darkness in the forest.
The unclean birds feast
In the forest...
For only something large and dead
Could draw such a gathering.

Walking closer to it
I realize what is unclean
Are like these birds;---
Scavengers, and animals naturally
Associated with death and decay.
I am made wary by the birds
And the deer are too.
I speak to the animal
Telling it I too am made uneasy.

Driving away from the park
There is a State Police vehicle
Parked on the side of the road
With no driver.
It becomes clear to me the unclean animals
God once told Israel not to eat
Are the very same
Who congregate at death.

I do not talk about Plato's Word
Or Euclid's Elements; both of these concepts
Are sufficient evidence for God's existence
That there is order in both the ideated and corporeal world.
The first premised that there is in fact reason
And one has the ability to understand someone's words.
The second premised that there is in fact reality
And one has the ability to understand it through measurements.
Thus, the universe can be explained in both ways,
By measurement and by word,
And because of this, there must be a Creator.

This is not the God of philosophers,
But is merely the way we can infer that a god of some sort exists;
That there is order both through what is possible and also what can be communicated.

But, the God of philosophy is Aristotle's "Unmoved Mover"
The "Prime Mover", or whatever else philosophy invents
A priori to describe god's existence.

And certainly, there's always an atheist like Hume who says
"It always was." And we have two sufficiently complete systems
Of believing in the universe.

Rather, it is why I don't use philosophy to describe God's existence.
The "Unmoved Mover" the "First Cause" the "Supreme Self"
The "Architect"---which this last one is closer to being a proof of God's existence.

I find people who come to faith through philosophy
Often have the weakest faith.
It just takes a little bit of science to knock over their foundation.
I, instead, believe because of science.
I believe because of communication.
I believe because of mathematical principles.
I principally believe because I've seen and witnessed good
And can find no other way to explain it.
For, very often what I've found to be good
Other men have soiled with their opinions
And trampled on like swine.
Universally, what I found was good
And it was bad men who soiled it
So, I'm happy there is a hell to put those people in.

My belief is simple.
I know God through having a relationship with Him.
I observe God when I see kindness or love or joy.
And to be honest, the cosmological argument makes me doubt
More than it strengthens my faith.
Just me personally, as I have an imagination
Which can conjure anything up,
And it's not hard for me to believe in a universe
Sufficiently created of its own natural forces.
The model science has created seems to be atheistic
And should I believe it---and I don't---I'd have to be an atheist.
Yet, I see so much good in the world that goes without explanation
And I cannot escape Earth's Atmosphere to see if it were truly
A sphere, and I cannot go back in time to watch Cave Men evolve
And I cannot---especially---know if there was some quantum form of nothing
Which started the Big Bang.

To be frank, the only thing I can know is that there is good in this world.
And it remains good even when I'm told it's not.
And on that, I rest my faith because it is far easier to see
Than an "Unmoved Mover" or "Prime Mover"
Or "Sufficient Self" or "Supreme Consciousness."
To me, God sits in the form of a white robed man
Tall, in the background of heaven like he were a mountain
And above him is a rainbow;
And He like a rainbow, just stays his place there in Heaven's background
And when you move toward him, he remains fixed;
Like a rainbow. And His Son and His Daughter our Holy City---I'm being foolish---
Are there beside us, talking to us as citizens of a city so magnificent
With its pearlescent green and red towers as tall as the space between the Earth and Moon
Its forests of the Trees of Life, its country sides, Mount Zion the Everest Sized Golden Peak with Silver Cap
Its mansions, its river the size of an ocean, its temple where the LORD sits,
The fish, and all the animals and things yet to be understood created.
Libraries, playgrounds, bakeries where the bread is free, coffee shops
Chocolate Factories, Carnivals, Street Fairs...
And all of this will be free of charge, fully supplied by God.
Architecture so lush, no modern structure can rival it.
Painting, sculpture, murals, flowers, possibly even a beautiful flora and fauna filled with colors unimaginable.
Everyone will be friends. Everyone will know everyone else.
Eternity will be spent meeting new folk, growing to know them, inviting them to your mansions,
Exploring the infinite planes of heaven--for the city is huge, but there's suburbs and country sides for sure---
The sheer fact I can imagine this wonderful place---
That the imagination is good---proves there is something inherent in what we call good.
And if good is self evident, it can only be that God made it so.
As there are men who cannot see what's self evident,
And in our day, those same men spoil life for everyone else by corrupting it.
And I would like to go where life is incorruptible.
For this life is spoiled and maligned with sin and selfishness.

Where those who have committed offenses will go
Is hell. Sandstone tan, lit by the shadows of flames.
A heat above ninety degrees.
Ugly COs with horse hooves, red chests
Worms all over their faces,
Hideous shadowy cloaks
Needle pores.
It's unlikely they will torment you
Unless you did something really bad,
But they will wound you with a spear or sword
And place you in solitary confinement.
There, you'll feel your lowest low
With the festering of your wound
Sore, and without healing.
Worms will feast upon it.
And if you're truly a miscreant,
You'll get a cellmate.
God help those who do.
For, Hell is a real prison somewhere.

The camel through the needle's
Eye---if thought a city's wall---
Is only gainful fable
If we see its burdens fall.

For if we interpret Christ's
Words only the city's wall,
We may lose great miracles
And not hear Christ when he calls.

My works are fables.
Do not be turned aside to them,
As St. Paul said.
There is nothing divinely revealed in my work.
It is all simply apologetics,
Arguments meant to teach a solvent pathway to God.

This leads to what I think those fables are.
Book of Enoch or Jubilee,
Koran, Book of Mormon, 
In Revelation, the Number of the Beast spells "Allah" in Arabic.
Mormonism is steeped in symbolism
Of the Golden Calf and the Ancient Mystery Cults.
The Books of Enoch and Jubilee
Are filled with teachings denying the New Covenant prophesied in Jeremiah. 
And the Gospels of Mary or The Secret Book of James
Are filled with the teachings of the Gnostics which deny the teachings of Christ. 

Everything I wrote were stories. Similitudes. 
Like Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, Lewis' Narnia
Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, Chesterton's Father Brown
Tolstoy's War and Peace, Austen's Pride and Prejudice,
Dostoevsky's Brother's Karamazov, Helen's Iliad and Odyssey
Ovid's Metamorphosis, Herodotus' Histories,
Nietzsche's Thus Spake Zarathustra, or Freud's Psychology.

There is wisdom in what I wrote which are borne from the eternal truths.
But none of these are sacred, and some are outright evil.
My works, if they are read for anything beside their insights
Are as worthless as the worst on this list.
Yet, I am confident that there are some hundred and fifty extra biblical texts
Rejected by the Council of Nicaea. And I'm confident those
Combined with the heretical Monotheistic Religions of today
Will be the fables Christians turn toward
Teaching licentiousness, sin and selfishness.