Saturday, May 27, 2006, 4:11 AM PDT

     Shall I vote Republican or Democrat?

     What have the Republicans given us over the last six years? Under their leadership, they have committed America to a great purpose, that of establishing Freedom and Democracy in Iraq and Afghanistan, and in the larger Middle East. And in doing this, they have given our nation, now, and for all future generations, something to feel good about, something to feel proud about, adding yet another jewel to our crown of national self-worth, and self-esteem.

     The Democrats, on the other hand, are doing everything they can to pluck that jewel out of that crown before the glue dries. I will not vote for that.

     I will vote Republican. I will vote Republican in defense of this crown of national self-worth, in defense of these jewels of self-esteem which the Republicans have placed in it, which is the only thing that allows America to hold her head up high, and to stand tall in this world of moral midgets.

     May you pass every test.

Thursday, May 25, 2006, 9:42 PM PDT

     Atheism will never gain a wide following among the populations of this planet, because of the striking lack of vision which the atheist mind routinely exhibits, causing the great majority of people to shake their heads with a great sense of pity, and to turn around, and to leave the scene of misery quickly.

     An example of this was brought to our attention by the commentary delivered by one of the participating Atheists on the HellBoundAllee Vox Populi program which Sean has shared with us.

     In connection with his analysis of the Pledge of Allegiance, listen to the dripping contempt which this particular Atheist expresses for the concept of the nation, and the flag that symbolizes it. The speaker is not identified by name, which I find peculiar. Atheists don't even have enough self-respect to require the hosts to properly introduce them to the listeners.

Listen to Sound Clip: "I'm not sure what it means to pledge allegiance to a flag anyway. What's so special about a piece of cloth? And there are so many inchorant constants crammed into that thing. No wonder they try to make little kids recite it in elementary school, it's the only way to get them to swallow that ridiculous tripe. What's a nation? There's no such thing, just individuals. What's a God? There's no positive way to define it, so how can we be under it? Indivisible? Of course we're divisible, we're all individuals aren't we? With liberty and justice for all. You know, that last part isn't bad. in fact its stunningly incredibly good. Liberty? Absolutely. Justice? Certainly. Now if we didn't have that awful first section mucking it up for that last bit, we might have something. How about, I pledge allegiance to liberty and justice for all. Now that's credo I take my hat off for."

     This is like saying, I love my head, but I hate the brain inside of it. Or, I love this boat, but get a grip folks, what is all this fuss about a hull? Or I love my Mercedes Benz, but I can tell you for a fact, that gasoline is a figment of your imagination. This simple juxtaposition, exposes to the world, a huge canyon of irrationality which exists in these atheist minds, as if the communication links between the left and right hemispheres have been completely severed. The wholeness of common sense simply cannot manifest within that mind.

     Liberty and Justice exists only where there is a government to protect it. And governments are always associated with nation states. A collective organism comprised of people within a particular geographic area, must agree, through orderly democratic processes, to have their incomes taxed, to provide the resources necessary, to support the building and the maintenance of institutions which will guard freedom and justice both. Without that you have anarchy. With anarchy you have the breeding ground for all manner of injustice and the trampling of rights. In such a situation the powerful will always take what they want from the weak.

     Atheism is always synonymous with anarchy, and the follow on destruction of liberty. We have historical evidence. What did the Atheists do in Russia in 1917? They created anarchy first. Proclaimed the abolition of all eternal truths. And then in the ensuing chaos, they enslaved the people, banned religion, and brought the planet to the verge of nuclear annihilation.

     In regards to the importance of the American Flag, we must remember that all governments that are committed to the protection of liberty and justice, are established by and through the sacrifices of many people over a great stretch of time. Real people have fought, nose to nose, the proponents of tyranny, totalitarianism, and anarchy, on many battlefields, giving their lives that others might live theirs in freedom. And these heroes, who could tell us a thing or two about the importance of making such sacrifices, are not around today to make that case. They now live only in our historical memory. Therefore the flag, it is too obvious, symbolizes these sacrifices, which are more valuable than gold. And the flag, as a symbol of these sacrifices, is an important rallying point for the people, unifying them around the memory of these sacrifices, which in turn has important educational impact on the present generation, for if liberty and justice are to survive, similar sacrifices must be made by the people of this generation, yes, in the present moment, as the struggle for freedom in Iraq, which America is called to shoulder, superbly illustrates.

     An Atheist mind is indeed a mind to be pitied, coming to conclusions, and making arguments that if allowed to come to fruition, would result in their own enslavement. But of course, this is not the worst part of their blindness.

     God pours his life into them moment by moment, and yet they mock the idea that God exists. God causes their very heart to beat, and yet they say that there is no God. God causes the sun to shine upon them, and still they mock the idea that God exists. God puts enormous effort into making sure they have enough oxygen to breathe, making sure we have enough trees, and green things to produce that oxygen, yet they still say there is no God. God makes sure they have enough water to drink, and enough food to eat, yet they insist that God is a figment of everyone's imagination. God made sure that the body he provides them, will heal itself, in most cases, when injured, yet the Atheist believes that this is simply their due, that God had nothing to do with it. Great panoramas of beauty has God given to them in all of the variegated landscapes of this planet, veritably to give peace to their tormented souls, yet what does the Atheist say in response? The Atheist says there is no God. God gave them a universe literally filled with stars, blazing centers of radiant beauty, and truth, each one an awesome center of power around which untold planets orbit, presenting to the child mind the simple task of connecting the dots, a simple process that reveals the very face of God to the sane, yet they still insist, there is no God. God created the brain, and the consciousness to fill it, and endowed that consciousness with free will to do with it, what it will. And instead of gratitude, what is the response of the Atheist? Show me God, and I will poke him in the eye.

     Why do they say there is no God? Why have they pulled the eyeballs out of their sockets so they can say it with all sincerity? What has caused the communication links between the left and right hemispheres of their own brains to fry and sizzle into nothingness, like the filament of an overloaded lightbulb? Truly this must be greatest example of dysfunctionality in the entire universe, and I will tell you the truth, it is caused by hatred, an energy overload condition thereof.

     Just as hatred has made the terrorists examples of a pathological insanity, so too has hatred done the same thing to the Atheists. The terrorist throw bombs at the outer institutions which make liberty possible. The Atheists throw bombs at the inner institutions which make liberty possible, the institution of reason itself.

     The terrorists are hard to combat because they are willing to commit suicide in pursuit of their cause. Atheists are the same. You tell them that they are certain to be sent to the darkest regions of the infernal world upon the conclusion of this life, and they laugh in your face, and say, bring it on! Normal rationales don't work with these minds that have been fragmented by the energies of hatred. Not even the rationale of self-preservation.

     Hatred is like a bottle of whiskey. The first few sips are repugnant. Yet the spirit thereof quickly dissolves the soul's sense of reality. Far sooner than it could have imagined, it will find itself pulling upon that bottle with ever larger gulps, until the point is reached, where the soul has lost all of its freewill to this prancing arrogant demon and its logic of self-destruction.

     All that is real, that is whole, that is balanced, peaceful and happy, is composed of the divine geometry based on God's Love. And this includes health. Introduce hatred into the equation, and you start dismantling the normal functioning of all life systems, in all dimensions. Pain and misery is the inescapable consequence.

     These tormented souls have so much in common. Those who can be made into suicide bombers, their lives are so full of pain and despair, that they would choose a false abstraction of paradise in exchange for a real world of beauty, here and now, which God has given to them. What has made paradise into a living hell for them? Hatred. And the Atheists, they are so full of inner torment and despair, that they simply could not imagine that there is any reason to prolong it, thus, no possibility of life after death, and no existence of paradise. What has made this existing paradise a living hell for them? Hatred. This is what they ask in their hearts: Why prolong the pain? And they are sincere. They are in so much inner pain, that they actually long for the closure of death, the silence of death, even the comfort of death, yet they will not find it. Their consciousness will continue after they lay this body aside, and where that consciousness will be anchored, there will be no cool pools, or green pastures to relax in. It is so sad, ever so sad, that they have lost the very capacity to understand, that their pain is associated with the act of denying God. In this respect, understanding could be freedom for them. God is life, and the author of all happiness. Deny God, and you deny the entry of happiness into your world, and what ensues is a melt down of inner torment, feeding upon itself, in a nearly unstoppable cascade of insanity. This is not God's Will for them, not for any of his children. God would share his happiness with them, no less than with one who kneels in prayer 24 hours a day. Yet their doors are locked, the shades are pulled. And they curse God for the pain associated with this self-willed asphyxiation.

     And yet, an angel will come to them and say, just open the door so the light of happiness and renewal can enter your world. And they spit in the face of that angel.

     I am very happy, Sean, that you told me, and I heard this with my own ears, that you are not into hard core Atheism, that your mind still retains the functionality associated with an openness to evidence, which Atheists as a rule have lost. Truly you are out of place among them, like a little yellow flower trying to find a foothold in the midst of a radioactive wasteland. You are looking in the wrong place for answers. That is not where you will find those who genuinely love and respect you.

     May you pass every test. And don't forget to visit the pearl while you are here.

Monday, May 22, 2006, 12:53 AM PDT

     Only guides who know the way can lead you out, masters of the domain of consciousness, wherein the only path to freedom lies.

     Who are the fools who believe they can scale the heights of Everest without a guide? They are dead.

     And who are the fools who turn the backs on the climb, denying the presence of the mountain itself? They are the walking dead, filling the valleys with the stench of their decaying and rotting souls.

     May you pass every test.

Sunday, May 21, 2006, 6:07 PM PDT

     This is a focus for Liberty in the Middle East created by Marjorie Martinez, from in inspiration she received in her sanctuary while giving the decrees 7.28 "Charge the Earth With Violet Fire" at the point in the decree where it says "Goddess of Liberty raise Thy Torch, In every land where evil would thwart, The plan of God for the age of gold, O' powers of Light our victory hold."

     And you can click here for another version with the decree words added at the bottom.

     Meditating on her face, that of the Goddess of Liberty, as it is centered on Iraq, is quite a powerful experience. The longer you look, the more likely it is that she will help YOU to see through her eyes, and seeing through her eyes, you can then feel the passion of her heart, the passion of her heart for the freedom of all of God's Children.

     Thank you very much, Marjorie, for sharing this fantastic creation with the community.

     May you pass every test.

Sunday, May 21, 2006, 5:17 PM PDT

     Once upon a time, there was a young prince, and this was during the days of Camelot, and King Arthur, and the Knights of the Round Table, who, after a long simmering disagreement with the queen mother, which came to a head in the autumn years of her reign, decided to leave the community, and without his body guards, to strike out into the world to seek his own fortune. Of royal blood was he, a fact that was picked up upon the wind by noses of appropriate sensitivity, even from a block away, and even across the great span of the old mid-city bridge which arched, in quite a magnificent manner across a wide muddy river that served as the city sewer in those days. And it came to pass, upon some lonely byway on the rain drenched streets of Old London, that he was mugged, hit over the head with a heavy instrument, all his valuables were stolen from him, and he was dragged away to the nearby wharf, and sold into slavery upon a pirate ship. When he woke up, he had no idea where he was, or who he was, the blow upon his head had mangled his memory. His sense of identity, at that moment, was like an empty chalice, and a cracked one at that, and it was thereafter filled, drop by drop, by the example of the pirates who, from that point forward, became the only family he knew. Not a happy family, by any means. But his family. And being of royal heart, he was loyal to a fault.

     Now, it had been many years since this young prince had been given up for lost. And his memory within the community had faded into the mists, which were thick and sluggish in ancient times, as an inconsequential blur upon the undifferentiated shadows which composed the structure of their collective forgetfulness. Except for one of his little brothers. His memory remained as fresh as the day it was planted, always tended and nurtured by angels, who poured regular showers upon it, and caused fresh breezes to blow through it, and the little brother would weed the garden of these memories regularly, allowing the great blossoming bushes full reign, happy in his work, awaiting, fondly, affectionately, and hopefully for his brother to return. And the fragrance of these memories were sweet, and they spoke much, in a language of heavenly origin, of great and victorious days to come.

     And therefore, the little brother was never idle, but always out and about with a full phalanx of shining knights, searching the surrounding countryside, and traveling abroad on any lead. And one day, along the bitterly cold northern coast, they came upon a rocky inlet from which hoarse and disdainful laughter flew out like many flocks of silver throated crows. One voice stood out among them all, and the little brother knew that his long search was finally at an end, or so it seemed.

     The phalanx of knights thundered down onto the beach, swords and shields shining by a light unearthly, for the windswept coast was then socked in by a ponderously low, gray, and black overcast. And the pirates, all of them, spat upon the knights, mocking their shining countenance, deriding their noble purpose, though not just with words, but with black arrows, and so it was that swords flashed, the clash of battle was heard for many miles over that barren countryside, and in the end, no pirate stood, not one was spared, save the prince of old, who, upon first opportunity, as his long lost little brother approached with hopeful heart, spat into his face, and smashed his nose flat with a fist which clearly had been trained to do mortal damage. The knights stepped quickly forward with mallets raised to strike, but the little brother commanded stillness. The wind itself became silent, the sun broke through the clouds, and holding a gauntlet dripping with blood over his smashed nose, said to his long lost brother, "I forgive you."

     The world stood still as it waited to see what form the fire in the eyes of this prince of old would take in response to this hopeful heart, and a faithful one too after so many years, which now stood before him.

     The prince of old spat again, a great wad splattering and mingling with the flowing blood on the face of the little brother, and the knights moved forward again to take hold of this motley renegade, but the little brother put up his hand, and everything, and every one again became still. On all of the surrounding cliffs, and this was a marvel to behold if anyone had turned around to look, many seagulls had gathered by this time, to see what would happen next.

     The little brother commanded the captain to offer up his sword to the prince, and he said to the prince, "Take this noble sword, and strike me where you will, and let each wound be a small part of my punishment for taking so long to look for you, and to find you." And the prince of old took up the sword, wielded it above his head, there was no doubt that he knew how to use it, and before anyone could raise a shield, he had lopped off the head of his little brother. And again, the knights moved forward, but the little brother keeping his balance, as his head fell with a thud upon the rocky beach, raised his hand for stillness, and with a stern and steady voice, commanded his knights that none should interfere. All eyes searched for the source of the voice, and they fell, each one, upon the severed head, which lay upon its side at the feet of the little brother. And the lips of the little brother moved again, his full body still standing in that serene and fragrant garden of perfect memory, spoke again to the prince of old and said, "Please forgive me." And he continued, "for truly we have long awaited and desired your return, and although we have searched long, I know we could have done better, we could have come sooner. If you are angry still, let me bare the brunt of it."

     The prince of old raised the sword again, and off came the right arm of the still upright body. And the voice of the little brother said again, "Please forgive me." The prince of old raised the sword again, and off came the left arm of the still upright body. And the voice of the little brother said again, "Please forgive me." The prince of old raised the sword again, but this time thrust it straight into the heart of the headless, and the armless body, and drew the bloody blade back out.

     To the surpise of all, upon too strong legs, and sturdy, the body stood fast, and once again, the voice of the little brother said, "Please forgive me."

     Had this prince of old, in pirates garb, finally met his match upon this rocky beach? Let's see. In the brilliant sunlight now streaming down like rivers of gold from a crystal blue break in the cloud cover above, the sword flashed again. And it passed cleanly through both legs. And the torso toppled over, along with the legs, in a pile upon the rocky beach, falling on top of the severed head, and covering it, to where it could not be seen any longer. The prince of old felt a certain satisfaction at this feat of arms. And there was not a person on the scene, that did not think that the life of the little brother was certainly at an end now, and that it was high time for the knights to decide what to do.

     But to the astonishment of everyone, a muffled voice could be heard to say, from under the pile of severed limbs, "Please forgive me." The prince of old, far more astonished, than angry now, rolled the torso off to one side, and look at the severed head, and with a note of striking incredulity, said, "What did you say?" And the little brother spoke again, and everyone could see his shining blue eyes flash as he said it, "I said, dear brother, please forgive me." And the prince of old, finding, for the first time in his memory, a point of latent reason deep within in his own heart, said to the head of the little brother, "Why? Who are you, that I should forgive you? What have you ever done to me, that I should forgive you? Speak up now. And do so before it is too late. I am certain that I have never seen you before. No, not in my entire life. Though true enough, you and your friends here," sweeping his arm up and around to indicate the surrounding knights, "are the enemy, I know that, but nothing personal, I have never met you. Who are you now, that I should forgive you?"

     "I am your little brother." And the prince of old, his face twisted into many contortions of disbelief, responded, "As you can see, you and your knights here have put an end to all my brothers. These are my brothers," sweeping his arm in a wide arc indicating the dozens of corpses lying round about. "They lay all around you, and in a similar predicament as you, I would point out. Though, unlike you, they are quite silent. How could you be my little brother?"

     The little brother, who eyes were brightly following the face of the prince, did not respond. The scene however, the rocky beach, strewn as it was with the remnants of battle, even the knights at the ready, and their lamentations, and the surrounding cliffs, the entire sea coast, and the chorus of the coastal waters, faded from view and from hearing. And the prince found himself standing in the midst of the garden of memories long tended by his little brother.

     It was a radiant space, and serene, and somehow familiar, with many tall bushes all around, each one bustlingly full with blossoms nearly too beautiful to look straight upon. A white butterfly caught the eye of the prince as it flitted from here to there, from blossom to blossom, yet not as earthly butterflies appear, but in a geometry of flight that was at once smooth, graceful, and alluring. His attention was naturally captivated, as he had never seen anything so interesting, so beautiful, and so beckoning. The butterfly came to rest upon one blossom, and stayed there, flexing its wings. And there was a sweet melody that touched his ears in rhythm with the movement of the wings, and there were voices in the music, indeed, and the voices spoke to his heart, and moved him to approach.

     Without warning, the butterfly disappeared into the center of the flower. The prince stepped forward quickly to see where it had gone, eyes fixed upon its last position. Coming close and searching the center of the flower, his attention was pulled in behind the butter fly into the midst of a fragrance which immediately placed upon him a multitude of comforting hands which lifted him up and into the presence of his father and queen mother, they were holding him, a very small child, in their arms, and his little heart was filled with so much love for them, that he was sure it was going to burst. My beautiful parents. I had forgotten. And in an instant, he was again standing before that flower, again in the midst of the garden of memories. There were so many to choose from.

     A crystal blue butterfly joined the white, and they danced from blossom to blossom for the longest time, here, there, and everywhere, never resting for long, but their flight path etching a sensation of inestimable joy upon the soul of the prince. And finally, they paused, and a new melody could be heard, beckoning him again to approach. And again, without warning, both butterflies disappeared into the center of the flower, pulling his attention along with them into the midst of another towering and majestic fragrance. Again a multitude of comforting hands lifted him into the presence of a great and teeming crowd of friendly faces, and he knew them, each one, as a brother and sister long forgotten, and in an instant, he absorbed into his soul, the memory of their kindnesses, and their love for him, and their great hopes. My beautiful brothers and sisters. I had forgotten. Your kindnesses toward me, they are like the cells of my very body. In the midst of these affections I am re-made of the purest gold, and emeralds I wear upon each thought, and so many of them too.

     And in the crowd, just out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the countenance of one who looked very familiar, and he turned in that direction, moved more closely to get a better look, and there, the closest friend of all, memories like jewels, too numerous for a treasure chest of any size, what joy, what bliss to find you again. And as he pondered these jewels, they suddenly, though gracefully, melded into the face that he last saw upon the severed head laying upon the rocky beach on that cold and bitter coast.

     And the prince fell backwards, and tumbled, end over end, into the deepest pool of remorse, falling, falling, falling, falling, falling, through crystal waters which seem no thicker than air, and this went on for what seemed an eternity, and he landed, finally, with a cur plunk, into the very arms of God. Gotcha, our Father remarked, and quite gently. And he said to the Prince, with a voice that was a veritable swaddling garment of love and understanding, don't worry, and have no fear, you are forgiven, along with your snail paced little brother. Here, God said, reaching over to a tree filled with the brightest oranges you could ever imagine, take one of these to him, and feed him the segments thereof, as you would place communion wafers on the tongues of the slow but faithful.

     Immediately, and quite abruptly, the prince felt the numerous bitter bites of the cold coastal wind upon his face, all scenes of divine memory had vanished from sight, and he found himself kneeling, just as he had been, before the face of his little brother, the severed head, with the bright blue eyes, that yet twinkled in mirth as they made contact with his. In the background, the uncomfortable cries of a few gulls could be heard, along with the grumblings and sad moanings of the knights still standing at the ready, and the stench of battle too, gnawed, gently however, upon his nose.

     Understandably, it took a few moments for his mind to reach a point of equilibrium, seeking and finding a firm footing upon on the memory of what was, and at the same time, upon what is, and most importantly, on what is to be. But suddenly, the prince realized that this awesomely large and plump orange was still in his hand, and he said, "My dear little brother, God our Father has sent me back with this orange, as a communion gift for you! I can scarcely believe it, but here it is. And I suppose, too, it is a sign of my own enlightenment, understanding, remembrance, and repentance, for surely, I am genuinely sorry that I used that sword to wreak such destruction upon you."

     And he peeled the orange, and broke it into its 12 segments, for this was a special orange, and as he placed the first segment onto his little brother's outstretched tongue, he said to his little brother, "please forgive me." And so it went through all 12 segments, and the mouth of the little brother was so full of orange and so busy chewing, and that this went on for so long, that the prince began to greatly worry. "My little brother, please stop chewing and speak to me!" he cried. And all he could hear were some gurgled mumblings in between the chewing, and he put his ear down close, and listened as intently as he had listened to any thing, or anyone in his entire life. And all of a sudden, it was like a lightbulb went off in his head, and he said "Oh! What a fool am I!" And the prince cried out to the knights, directing them to get the torso propped up, so he could place the head back on it, so that his little brother could swallow the oranges!

     And this is what they did. The knights rushed forward, picked the torso up, and stretched out what was remaining of its legs, and propped it up with some nearby swords and shields. And when they felt that it was adequately supported, the prince picked up the head, the mouth of which was almost bursting full, yet still chewing, and placed it gently back upon the shoulders. And all of sudden everyone, even the seagulls on the surrounding cliffs, and even some ships at sea reported hearing this giant gulp right at that moment. It surprised everyone to be sure. And this fiery orange glow, exactly the color of the orange peels, all of a sudden appeared around the heart area of the little brother's torso. And it shown brightly through the armor too, as if it were going to melt right there. I can tell you the truth, because I was there. As this orange glow got brighter and brighter, the bright blue eyes of the little brother about popped out in utter astonishment, as the force of this sacred fire drew back, like a powerful magnet, all of the previously severed limbs into their proper places, and radiant and swirling light made quick work of sealing and sewing everything up just right, to where the little brother could get up, and stand tall, and even dance round and shout with the greatest joy! Truly, this was a day to remember. He had found his long lost brother! And they were friends again.

     And as you can all imagine, after all, this is not rocket science, everyone lived happily ever after.

     May you pass every test.

Sunday, June 5, 2005, 9:29 PM PDT

     I Am the pearl of God realization that you wear on your finger. A man should be able to say that to his twin flame. Though I suppose, that years ago, this would not have been true, in as much as a pearl takes time to develop, incrementally, as it has been said before. In this work of art, the diamonds, 12 in number, signify the purity of the Will of God manifest on each of the twelve lines of the Cosmic Clock; even as indestructible determination. How else can all the layers of the pearl represent purity and luminosity? It is the only way.