There are words in the English Language
Which are taboo.
Christians ought to avoid those words.
However, when dealing with Genocide
Ought I refrain from saying "Shit"?
When appraising Jesus' situation
They believed he was a Bastard.
I do not know the other instances where I cussed.
However, I am not a Christian author.
I am a secular author
Dealing with Christian themes.
I write Science Fiction and Fantasy.
I am a prophet like Jane Austen or Leo Tolstoy---
Or John Bunyan or C. S. Lewis.
Christians, I do not expect you to understand my role.
There is just a place for my writing and my ministry;
Some people need hard answers.
And I provide them.
I do not say you ought to emulate me.
Please do not.
Rather, just understand me as a writer.
I’m a Christian---
I’m a Prophet---
However, some prophets
Have a mission which secludes them from ministry.
I have a criminal record,
So I cannot be a pastor.
Rather, I am an evangelist
And you’ll find I bring many to Christ.
I’m an enigma;
I draw people in with my words
And they become chastened.
For I live an example of a chaste life;
And my chastity is my ministry.
My words are merely intellectual things
Meant to answer burning questions;---
Do not place me in Christian literature.
Do not call me a Christian Author.
Rather, call me an Author;
Call me a Christian.
I do not want you emulating me.
Rather, I have a ministry to those like me;
And there are many more than you’d like to know.
And those, I will leave bread crumbs to the LORD’s house.
You shall take them, when I am finished with them.
Rather, I’m an ecclesiastical leap. 

Dear,
Bob Jones University

Bob was not a prophet. John Paul was a righteous Pope, and his criticisms of him were not true. His criticism of Calvinism was false. How can these two faiths be reconciled? They cannot. Yet, each possesses in themselves true belief, and doctrines of the Holy God. Works are equal with faith. And we are predestined according to the divine mercy of God. Our names, however, can be written out of the book of life. They can be blotted out.
I have thought thoroughly on Billy Graham. He was not a great detriment to the faith. Neither was he the great evangelist. Like all men, he had flaws in his doctrine. Like all men, if one peered into them, they’d find faults in what they say. Men will criticize me and say, “He swore.” Rightly, I did swear, both uncouth oaths and cuss words. I have blasphemed. I have done all sorts of evil things. And rightly, one ought to be critical of me, if I speak anything beside the truth, let that which I speak be rejected if it is not the truth.

I am a true prophet, though. By that, it is “Interpreter.” I understand God’s word, and can interpret it, and its direction in our lives. Many men claim that prophets are men who “Predict the future.” Jonah predicted the future, yet Nineveh was spared, was it not? Did his prophecies fail? No, they turned the country around, and they were given great entreaty by Christ Himself, saying that at the end of the age they would be a witness against this people.

With that said, a preacher had Dream Paralysis where he saw Bob’s familiar spirit. It was a Nephilim; an outright scary figure if one asked me. It’s not to say that men oppressed by demons are wrong---there are demonic apparitions all around me. No, it is that when you call the demonic an “Angel”, or confess it in public to be “Michael”,---I had once said angels were grumpy too. But, it was not an angel, but was a Giant. An apparition of two specific beings who were downright evil, and set me on a course of doubt. The first came to me, and all but caused me to make the most stupid speech ever. I had correctly prophesied the Psalm, I remember, but this being twisted my head all around. May God forgive the foolishness, for I was unwise at that point in my life. It has all been used to better me. Then the same being came around again, with another, and told me my writing was an idol. Is my writing an idol? No. My writing is critical to the work of the cross---not that it needs written, but that I am blessed with writing it. For all work appointed for salvation can be done by others, but it was given to me to do. And for that I am blessed.

Yet these beings came to me, and falsely at that. They tried to hinder my work. All but set me on a path to destruction if it weren’t for the LORD’s grace. She specifically cursed me, and my writing. She told me a pack of lies, yet it will be her who is judged. Not I. Because she tried to hinder the gospel with her speech, and my work was to accumulate knowledge and speak it.

Had Bob been a prophet---which he is not---he would have been right in discerning our brothers and sisters in the Catholic faith. He would have been understanding of the truth in Calvinism. He would have been ecumenical. For the Gospel is preached not just by protestants. It is preached by Catholics and Seventh Day Adventists, too.

This gets to the reason I am writing this letter. I saw in a fortune cookie, “There is nothing so unpopular than the truth.” People heap up for themselves teachers, and preachers and every spiritual thing needs to be discerned. Well, I discern that the being he saw was a familiar spirit, a Giant---it was not Michael the angel. I am classified to understand the mysteries of the world because God has revealed them all to me. And I say that Bob was not a prophet; for ecumenicalism was the desperate prayer of Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane. Not for division.

What unites us is Christ. When Paul preached against works, it was works of the Law. Not the works which Christ preached in Matthew Chapters 5 – 8. Jesus said specifically in that instance, “Those who follow these, shall be likened to a builder who built his foundation on rock.” If you were a true preacher, you would preach Christ’s words, and would have warned of these days, when men must be willing to give up their lives for the cross. Very little is preached on that. No, instead, I have false prophets telling me I’m lazy, and that my directive was to work at an unfair salary, being forced to work on Sabbaths and Holidays. As is the custom of today. Yet in Jeremiah it explicitly warns about such behavior. 

I can spot a false prophet. Jesus called Herod a “Fox.” Which would be like calling Biden an “Ass.” Our deeds were called “Filthy Rags”. That is, “Bloody Rag”, which would be like saying “Shit.” Maybe even more vulgar. I do not write scripture. But I speak of the liberty in Christ, that what He truly wants from us is to flee. How we flee, it is without my knowledge. It doesn’t seem like there is anywhere to flee, so He must mean to be ready to lose life and limb, to allow oneself to be abused, to reject the calling of the sword, and to give up material possessions for the sake of salvation. There is no other way, but to slowly lose the ties to this world, until you are completely free. Thus, the yoke of His is light.

If Bob were a prophet, he’d speak words like that. Instead, he criticized legitimate Papal authority, and he criticized one of the most solid Biblical movements in history, in Calvinism. He criticized Billy Graham---who was neither greatly evil nor greatly good, but rather had a small office and surely has earned much treasure---and it seems like Bob ended up on the wrong end of every movement. I will not critique the obvious. Such is worldly. The truth is if Bob were a prophet he’d preach the Gospel. He’d have warned about these times, like I have. He’d have known what was to come, like I have. He’d have been able to give a correct answer onto the meaning and reason why things are falling apart. He would not have been like the wicked messengers telling me things which were bold faced lies, trying to get me to doubt my office and role. For it is my role because God loves me. And it is my desire, which He gave me. And the hindrance of calling me false---when I have proven myself not to be time and time again---by sending agents whether physical or spiritual---rather, Bob confirmed a familiar spirit were Michael. And if it were a different Bob Jones, then the rest will be true, except for that one part.

His bed quakes;
He awakens 
To the sight of 
The Nephilim.

The Giant is muscular,
His eyes are black;
He wears leotards;
He looks like a Mohawkan.

I believe it.
Sleep Paralysis opens 
The eyes to the demonic world.

Yet, the apparition
Is called “Michael.”
It is not Michael.
It is a Giant.

The Giant vaporizes;
The shade disappears.

Then a diviner is called.
The diviner speaks 
Of the familiar spirit.
It was his familiar spirit.
Now it is another’s.

It was said
If men sent two rockets
To outer space; one were Atheists with Modern Science
And the other Christians.
They both would colonize their planets.

The first would cease to be men at all within a generation.
While the second would find pasture and retain what made humans noble.

I watch thou speak...
Always on destiny
Always on causation.
Turning wheels are man’s mind;
Gears, leavers.
What is bad is bad.
What is good is good.
Bad men are bad men.
Good men are good men.
There is no choosing for either.

The lesser things go to war;
The religious things are merely a product
Of things upon things upon things upon things.
Years, upon years, upon years, upon years.
Line upon line upon line upon line.
Here a little, there a little.

I listen to you speak
Relegating man, analyzing him as if man were a beast.

Yet, your brother Yang
Sees the soul within a man
And attributes it to science.
It is a soul nonetheless that he sees---
He sees the good, the volition, the capability for order.
The rational mind.
He plainly sees what is good in man.

You see it, and say it is religion’s job to order it.
He sees it, and says religion hinders it.
I see it, and say it is a little of both.

Yet, Yang is wiser then thou for seeing it.
Thou seest it, and claim it is irrational.
It is not. It is wholly rational.
More pleasure comes from it than not.

I silently look at both things
And say, “God created it.”
Neither can prove, nor disprove,
God. Neither rational morality
Nor irrational morality.
For morals are rational---
It is just also true that most men cannot understand why.

Sages spend lifetimes striving for one solitary truth.
And when two sages find it,
Then they war among one another.
It is not that either’s truth is any less true;
Only that both men cannot conceive of the other man’s truth.
Both truths are true.
And both men, knowing their truth,
War with the other.

I, I look to Christ.
He was a genius superb above all other men.
Godly intelligence;
I read Moses, seeing the most controversial laws
Are a wellspring of life.
I do not conform my thoughts my own mind's redundancies 
But rather base my truth on what proven systems there were.
And I say, “How is this?” And they surely come to reasons which I could never find on my own.
Even the darker subject of war.
Hammurabi was only a genius because God provided for him law;
Yet, not all laws were found.
Moses was a genius because God provided for him law;
Yet, grace was not found.
Christ was a genius, never having studied, He was God,
He found all which man could under the sun
And spoke it in parables.
Even eternity is wisdom;---
For without it, what cautions a man to gain everything
And to do great harm?
What man, without the capacity for forgiveness
Has reason to do what is good?
None rational.
That man must die. And if he does not die
He can only build an empire of blood.

I look to your speech, Yin,
And I say, “There is half of wisdom,
“Yet your brother has a half,
“And I have the whole.
“Yet, I only have the whole
“Because I have a teacher.
“You two do not;
“You see half of all wisdom
“And forget the other’s half;
“Thus, you eternally strive with one another
“And do not see the truth.”

Spies, spies
They are everywhere.
Have an idea
They make you despair.
Do not believe it?
Just ask the police.
What we know
Is the least.

They stop my books
They stop your crafts;
Have an idea
And they'll watch your back.

I knew it was true
But today it was confirmed.
Spies rule our lives
And it makes my stomach churn.

O' the Queen of Poets
The wretched Kings decry...
Sword of Damocles unsheathe;

The Queen of poets sings her Coda
While she is yet a nursing babe.
Her speech has yet to form…

Yet, truth was on the lips of babes
Like none ever seen so far.
Kings, fear thou this,
The poet’s heart who fears thee.
For if the Queen of Hearts cannot sing her odes
Then freedom dies.
Sing. Sing Queen of Poets, 
And like the Blackbirds of Ireland
Have your songs be heard!