The Great Mandela (A Response to Peter Paul and Mary)

I am no prophet.
I am a coward.
I do my work
It's just not right

For a world,
Who has no law
And does not know how to treat their neighbor right.

So if I must die
In a jail cell
And be a prophet,
Harkening back to love...

I shall eat my bread and water
And though I'm crazy
At least I was a better man in this life.

Death is the toll, now,
And I am no prophet
And by all means am not better than my brother,
That's right.

I am a coward,
I am no prophet
I only wrote what God told me so I could eat.

Form and Function

Form leads to peace, and tranquility...
Productive people doing productive things.

Function leads to war, and strife;
Pirates doing repulsive things.

Our modern era, wanting Function over Form
Produces pirates, who do but cannot know.
Who plunder, but cannot build.
Who steal, but cannot work.

The Education of the Peasant

The sage looked upon the little student, and told him, "Memorize this cant, and it shall tell you all the world."

The student said, "Surely I will remember it."

The sage then said,

"In all things, there is a sense to language. In all things, there is a sense to number. It is what's real, which we describe, and therefore, are able to teach. The King is God's shepherd upon the Earth, making laws so men can feed freely, making the waterways, and building the ports and roads. The king's greatest tools are these two: The proper definition for words, and for the people to not be interfered with on their business. To the great east, there is Asia, to the south there is Africa and to the west there are the Americas, and to the north there is Europe. The four Oceans, the Atlantic is murky, the Pacific clear, the Indian is placid, and the Arctic cold. The stars a for the seasons, to tell us the times. The moon and sun too. Do you understand?"

The student said, "I do."

The sage concluded, "Then, let your curiosity go forth, and let your mind be fruitful, and your fields ripe, and your thirst for knowledge never quenched."

My Peers

Gorged on everything---
Jaded; insincere.
They hated all good.

The Purpose of Mythology

Mythology's purpose is not to tell us 
The workings of the gods, but to tell us 
Our own workings. 
                                             Sometimes, 
Understanding simple things set large 
Events into motions, 
That's why we must learn from it.

The Heart of Kings

They call a feast upon the Great Hall
And their rivals do not wish to come.
A year's worth of preparation, so the master
Sows discord among the party guests.
They fight, until the spirit of greater combat
Wells up in every heart, and gitty
The Queen rides in her chariot
Out to the warfield, and the two
Gangs make their war upon the valleys.

St. Patrick Finds Ferguson and Medb

The charioteer found Ferguson and Medb
Entwined upon the grass, as warriors fought
In the plains of Eire. Beautiful was she,
And perky her thighs wrapped around his waist.
Their war was set, and Ailill knew none the wiser:
For Ferguson was verile and only he could satisfy her lust.

St. Patrick found them, in the weeds and looked away in horror.
“My friends, if such be the product of the gods
“I think all men’s love shall grow sour.”
For Patrick upon his chariot roamed
Not before making this prophecy…
More potent than the Necromancer’s of his home:
“The day you both are found in the pools
“And nude, breast to breast,
“Shall be the day you die, oh wicked Ferguson,
“And Ferguson, you shall die, and only draw blood against a dog.
“That will be your only payment for a life
“Borne by adultery.”

Meditation on the Quran

Who has guarded me? If not the LORD?
You implore Israel to remember the LORD's kindness
Why then, do you wish to comment on the holy scripture?
Should it not be a misery, to fall off the path
And enter into covenant with Ishmael?
Where Isaac was the Freeborn child?
You say "What witchcraft happens if not for Allah,"
Need I remind you that Samuel was conjured by the Necromancer
From the grave? Or need I remind you that your sword
Has slain many saints, o Ishmaelites?
How many infants have you bayonetted?
How many women have you raped?
How many children have you slaughtered?
Good Christian and Jewish sons and daughters?
Magic falls upon who it does, as evil happens to all.
Allah cannot protect you. For Allah is Sin---
Derived from the Zoroastrian Pantheon
The Crescent Moon is her emblem;
Sin is your God, oh Ishmael.
And you implore me in the second Surah
To remember the LORD's kindness on Israel.
So I shall. For what is your holy revelation
But a bad plagiarism and commentary?

Letter to God

Dear,
God

You are good, I know. That is the whole reason I believe in You. I read Your Bible every day. I don't know why my life is so hard. I look at scripture, and I follow its rules. It never seems to work for me. But, I know that You are good.

I've asked for a wife and a book deal, and to be good at doing work. None of that has happened. I have no wife, I have no book deal, and I break down every time I do my work. But, I know that You are good.

When I see Your Son, speaking what He did, and when I read Genesis, and see the awesome and complex stories... I know there's an intelligence beyond my own at work. So I know that You are good.

I have schizoaffective disorder, and paranoid thoughts. I have delusions of grandeur. I see my whole world crumbling around me. But I know that You are good.

I am afraid of being captured, and tortured for crimes I did not commit. I have demons attacking my thoughts. But I know that You are good.

LORD, You are like a Husband to me, or Your City like a Hephzibah. And though the world isn't the way I want it to be, and though everything falls apart in my hands, and I am poor, and I tremble... I know the world was better when people believed in You.

As the Gnostics say, Sophia came and corrupted what was good, and the whole world revels in that. I don't like Sophia. I like Christ. I like Your Daughter Zion, the Holy City. I like good things, and I like peace, love and joy.

I don't know why You gave me over to such hardships, and never rescued me. I don't know why I have to have these thoughts, but I'm with You till the day I die. I guess I have to trust in You, and only You, and understand life's broken into four pieces.

I am in trouble, LORD, with myself. Only with myself. I have nothing, and a life filled with evil. I have done what I didn't want to do. LORD, if I go to hell, if I have nothing, if I am lonely, LORD, You are still good. Though I descend into the abyss, I know You are good. Let those who hate You understand, every good thing they ever had, every peace imaginable, came from You, and that if they follow their hearts, they shall suffer.

LORD, deliver me from all evil. And feed me my daily bread. Let me forgive those who've sinned against me. And forgive me of my sins, too. Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on Earth as it is in heaven. Lead me not into temptation. For, Yours father, is the Kingdom, Power and Glory. Yours, Father, not mine.

Keep me from all harm, and save me from the plans of Satan. For I meditate upon Your law day and night. Yet, if You do not... and deliver me to my worst fears, You are still God, and I am not. I am a man, and a sinner. Though I worship You, and commit my ways to You, and dole out my bread to the hungry, and clothe the naked, and visit the prisoner, and console the widow... though I am kind to all I meet, and pray for my enemies... LORD, deliver me from my enemies, for it is Your promises. And I love Your law, that is why I do what is right. For no other reason. You are attentive to the prayers of those who desire to fear Your name. I commit myself to You, I have compassion on the poor, I desire to fear Your name... LORD, do not leave me on my sick bed, but fulfill Your promises toward Your servant. Deliver me from the ones stronger than myself. I can do nothing... LORD, and faithfully walk according to Your statutes, Yours, because they are good. Do not be like a liar to me... For then the nations would cease believing, yet You still are good, and I am not. And though the whole world stop believing, You are still God. Yet, deliver me, LORD, and graven me into Thy Palms.

For You say the Meek shall inherit the Earth, and the meek are like horses, tamed and broken. And the Mad Philosopher crumbled seeing the Stallion broken by men... but it was the worldly philosophy he created that broke the wild and free. For Your Law is utter mercy, and forgiveness, and the statute abolished so we can be at peace. For, to live by Grace and Love and Thy Law, brings wellsprings of peace. For the Meek are Spineless, and are led by a rope here and there, though being mighty and powerful. They cannot but do what they are conditioned to do... they know not their power. So said a mad prophet to me once, in a vision. And he, I'm afraid, is the one who clipped my wings of freedom, and bound me to the dust. Lift me up, Oh LORD, lift me up, and mount me on Eagle's Wings. Revive my Youth, for I wait patiently upon You. Let me sprout wings, and fly away from the tempest, and be knitted to You in truth.

For when I was in heaven, I saw Your peace... and I came back to this world to bring the Earth to You. For You are good.

I only ask, You keep Your mercies toward me.

Postmodernism

At best, Postmodernism is like working in a different base number system, than Base 10, and then working tirelessly to tweak Base 10 equations to fit the number theory into this new base system. Not only does it overcomplicate the simple matters of truth, but it also works out wrong answers more frequently than the right ones.

Also, realize, humanity is primed for Base 10 math, as we have ten fingers and ten toes. As it's the natural way our counting is done, and I see no more natural thing, than to derive a species of number system based on that. So also Postmodernism is doubly flawed, by trying to conform Logos into a framework that isn't especially intuitive to humans.

As a computer programmer, one uses Base 2. So 1 +1 = 3 (10) in this system. Yet that's fundamentally different than Base 10, 1 + 1 = 2. As you can see, an entirely different language is presented in both, like it were Russian and English. But the fundamental science is still the same in both, but the number fundamentally different. As with moral truths, there is science to it constructed around Language and Interpretation, of which the Postmodernist retranslates and reinterprets everything over and over again, until nothing makes sense, but the native speaker plainly speaks.