He survives a plane crash, and dies like this (apparently, "pending toxicology" of course).
Another sad, stupid, tragic waste of a God given life.
People, how about starting to get each other OFF of drugs for a change? Just a thought.
Peace out.
http://www.popeater.com/2009/08/28/celebrity-stars-twitter-on-dj-am/
Showing posts with label Friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Friendship. Show all posts
Friday, August 28, 2009
Saturday, January 10, 2009
A message to my gay ex (by his choice) friend
A message to my gay ex-friend in “gay:”
GgGgg. GgGggggggggyyY AyyyyyyyYAaaaa YGggggggggyyyY?
Ggg GgAyyyYAaaaa GggggggGggyyyyyyYyyyyyyYAaaaaAaaa YGggggggggyyyyY.
yyYGgY AaaaGggAaaa YGggggggggyyyyY GgggggggGggggggggyyyyyY
yyyyyYyyyyyyyYyyyyYyyyyyyYyyyyyY GGggggggggAaaa
yyyyyYGgggggggg AaaaaaGggyY AGgggggGggggg?
GgGgg. GgGggggggggyyY AyyyyyyyYAaaaa YGggggggggyyyY?
Ggg GgAyyyYAaaaa GggggggGggyyyyyyYyyyyyyYAaaaaAaaa YGggggggggyyyyY.
yyYGgY AaaaGggAaaa YGggggggggyyyyY GgggggggGggggggggyyyyyY
yyyyyYyyyyyyyYyyyyYyyyyyyYyyyyyY GGggggggggAaaa
yyyyyYGgggggggg AaaaaaGggyY AGgggggGggggg?
Saturday, December 27, 2008
marymajor's Diary: December 31
When I'm lonely I turn to the writings of the Popes of the last century, both their personal writing and their doctrinal writing. When I read what they write I feel like I am in their company and am not so lonely.
From Pope Benedict XVI's encyclical: Spe Salvi, "Saved by Hope"
Introduction
1. “SPE SALVI facti sumus”—in hope we were saved, says Saint Paul to the Romans, and likewise to us (Rom 8:24). According to the Christian faith, “redemption”—salvation—is not simply a given.
Redemption is offered to us in the sense that we have been given hope, trustworthy hope, by virtue of which we can face our present: the present, even if it is arduous, can be lived and accepted if it leads towards a goal, if we can be sure of this goal, and if this goal is great enough to justify the effort of the journey.
Now the question immediately arises: what sort of hope could ever justify the statement that, on the basis of that hope and simply because it exists, we are redeemed? And what sort of certainty is involved here?
Faith is Hope
2. Before turning our attention to these timely questions, we must listen a little more closely to the Bible's testimony on hope. “Hope”, in fact, is a key word in Biblical faith—so much so that in several passages the words “faith” and “hope” seem interchangeable.
Thus the Letter to the Hebrews closely links the “fullness of faith” (10:22) to “the confession of our hope without wavering” (10:23). Likewise, when the First Letter of Peter exhorts Christians to be always ready to give an answer concerning the logos—the meaning and the reason—of their hope (cf. 3:15), “hope” is equivalent to “faith”.
We see how decisively the self-understanding of the early Christians was shaped by their having received the gift of a trustworthy hope, when we compare the Christian life with life prior to faith, or with the situation of the followers of other religions.
Paul reminds the Ephesians that before their encounter with Christ they were “without hope and without God in the world” (Eph 2:12).
Of course he knew they had had gods, he knew they had had a religion, but their gods had proved questionable, and no hope emerged from their contradictory myths. Notwithstanding their gods, they were “without God” and consequently found themselves in a dark world, facing a dark future.
In nihil ab nihilo quam cito recidimus (How quickly we fall back from nothing to nothing): so says an epitaph of that period. In this phrase we see in no uncertain terms the point Paul was making.
In the same vein he says to the Thessalonians: you must not “grieve as others do who have no hope” (1 Th 4:13). Here too we see as a distinguishing mark of Christians the fact that they have a future: it is not that they know the details of what awaits them, but they know in general terms that their life will not end in emptiness.
Only when the future is certain as a positive reality does it become possible to live the present as well. So now we can say: Christianity was not only “good news”—the communication of a hitherto unknown content. In our language we would say: the Christian message was not only “informative” but “performative”. That means: the Gospel is not merely a communication of things that can be known—it is one that makes things happen and is life-changing. The dark door of time, of the future, has been thrown open. The one who has hope lives differently; the one who hopes has been granted the gift of a new life.
From Pope Benedict XVI's encyclical: Spe Salvi, "Saved by Hope"
Introduction
1. “SPE SALVI facti sumus”—in hope we were saved, says Saint Paul to the Romans, and likewise to us (Rom 8:24). According to the Christian faith, “redemption”—salvation—is not simply a given.
Redemption is offered to us in the sense that we have been given hope, trustworthy hope, by virtue of which we can face our present: the present, even if it is arduous, can be lived and accepted if it leads towards a goal, if we can be sure of this goal, and if this goal is great enough to justify the effort of the journey.
Now the question immediately arises: what sort of hope could ever justify the statement that, on the basis of that hope and simply because it exists, we are redeemed? And what sort of certainty is involved here?
Faith is Hope
2. Before turning our attention to these timely questions, we must listen a little more closely to the Bible's testimony on hope. “Hope”, in fact, is a key word in Biblical faith—so much so that in several passages the words “faith” and “hope” seem interchangeable.
Thus the Letter to the Hebrews closely links the “fullness of faith” (10:22) to “the confession of our hope without wavering” (10:23). Likewise, when the First Letter of Peter exhorts Christians to be always ready to give an answer concerning the logos—the meaning and the reason—of their hope (cf. 3:15), “hope” is equivalent to “faith”.
We see how decisively the self-understanding of the early Christians was shaped by their having received the gift of a trustworthy hope, when we compare the Christian life with life prior to faith, or with the situation of the followers of other religions.
Paul reminds the Ephesians that before their encounter with Christ they were “without hope and without God in the world” (Eph 2:12).
Of course he knew they had had gods, he knew they had had a religion, but their gods had proved questionable, and no hope emerged from their contradictory myths. Notwithstanding their gods, they were “without God” and consequently found themselves in a dark world, facing a dark future.
In nihil ab nihilo quam cito recidimus (How quickly we fall back from nothing to nothing): so says an epitaph of that period. In this phrase we see in no uncertain terms the point Paul was making.
In the same vein he says to the Thessalonians: you must not “grieve as others do who have no hope” (1 Th 4:13). Here too we see as a distinguishing mark of Christians the fact that they have a future: it is not that they know the details of what awaits them, but they know in general terms that their life will not end in emptiness.
Only when the future is certain as a positive reality does it become possible to live the present as well. So now we can say: Christianity was not only “good news”—the communication of a hitherto unknown content. In our language we would say: the Christian message was not only “informative” but “performative”. That means: the Gospel is not merely a communication of things that can be known—it is one that makes things happen and is life-changing. The dark door of time, of the future, has been thrown open. The one who has hope lives differently; the one who hopes has been granted the gift of a new life.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Who a "psychic" "most admires"
As a follow-up to my previous note about my former best friend. The reason I am so alarmed by the cultists who pull the strings, including of my former best friend, is not because these are harmless kooks who write the daily horoscope columns in newspapers. Here is a quote from one of the key players, a woman "psychic" who I got to know (as much as you can ever get to know these people, who have deeply secret lives, sources of money and agendas) when I was uncover, trying to find out what was going on and why these people were in my life and harming my family. She most admired "the best psychic she knew," a woman who is a "heroin addict in Australia." Wow. I bet heroin addicts "see" lots of things. And they think they are "intellectual," "literate," and "spiritual." YIKES. And you wonder why the world's in such a mess (besides humanity's own inability to avoid chronic sin and self degradation). So this is not a harmless or minor thing.
Story about my former best friend
I think people can learn a little bit about how to avoid their own mistakes by listening to this story. My former best friend's birthday is December 3, and so she automatically crossed my mind, as I wrote out a birthday card for my mother, who is next week. We were best friends for about forty years until our friendship ended, totally. Here is just a few sentences on the subject so that you can avoid making the same mistakes in your life.
We grew up together and I often looked to her mother for the relaxed and unconditional affection that my own mother is far too uptight and angry to ever have had. So we had a particularly deep and trusting friendship even though we were quite unalike in personality. My former best friend is not very modest, and she also does not have a very deep faith. But I loved her as a best friend and would have trusted her with my life.
One thing we laughed about is how she had a perfect sense of direction, except it was the opposite of the correct way. She would insist that the left turn is correct, and it would turn out that the exact opposite, the right turn would be correct. If, when navigating, you did the exact mirror image of what she insisted was correct, you would then find that you went in the correct direction. You just could not let her navigate or hold the map, ever.
Well, it came to my attention some years ago that behavior changes that she showed toward me were not caused by distraction, suffering and stress, as I had compassionately assumed. She had allowed herself to become enmeshed with the cultists who stalked me, allowing herself to be used. Once again she chose the direct opposite of the correct direction. I gave her two chances to admit it and repent, but she denied it all, and so I terminated the relationship, for good. It's alright to choose against me, for some bizarre reason, but it's never alright to do it to fulfill a defiance of God, a disrespect of God, by fulfilling "action steps" by those who work in the direct opposite direction of God's will, refusing to believe in him as he has revealed himself.
Don't have a perfect sense of direction in the opposite direction of what is correct. Further, two wrongs never make a right. If you should have turned "right" and instead turned "left," turning left again does not get you back to the correct place. I lost her son, my godson, too, for that very reason, as he too thinks that many secret left turns equate a correct right turn, instead of understanding that a right turn, having been missed, must be immediately corrected by faithfully backtracking. I often have him in mind when I speak to you, the young readers of my blog, because he was deeply led astray in his secular education, his friendships, the narcissism of the entertainment media (he is a gifted musician), and his lack of upbringing in the faith. So I try to help those who read and who listen to me to avoid those pitfalls, into which he and his mother have fallen and sadly, so many others, despite my pleadings and stern warnings.
God knows, sees all, so if you are treating someone this way, even if they never "know about it," God knows, from the moment it was first a thought in your head and, of course, even before then, since God knows all that each human ever did or will do.
We grew up together and I often looked to her mother for the relaxed and unconditional affection that my own mother is far too uptight and angry to ever have had. So we had a particularly deep and trusting friendship even though we were quite unalike in personality. My former best friend is not very modest, and she also does not have a very deep faith. But I loved her as a best friend and would have trusted her with my life.
One thing we laughed about is how she had a perfect sense of direction, except it was the opposite of the correct way. She would insist that the left turn is correct, and it would turn out that the exact opposite, the right turn would be correct. If, when navigating, you did the exact mirror image of what she insisted was correct, you would then find that you went in the correct direction. You just could not let her navigate or hold the map, ever.
Well, it came to my attention some years ago that behavior changes that she showed toward me were not caused by distraction, suffering and stress, as I had compassionately assumed. She had allowed herself to become enmeshed with the cultists who stalked me, allowing herself to be used. Once again she chose the direct opposite of the correct direction. I gave her two chances to admit it and repent, but she denied it all, and so I terminated the relationship, for good. It's alright to choose against me, for some bizarre reason, but it's never alright to do it to fulfill a defiance of God, a disrespect of God, by fulfilling "action steps" by those who work in the direct opposite direction of God's will, refusing to believe in him as he has revealed himself.
Don't have a perfect sense of direction in the opposite direction of what is correct. Further, two wrongs never make a right. If you should have turned "right" and instead turned "left," turning left again does not get you back to the correct place. I lost her son, my godson, too, for that very reason, as he too thinks that many secret left turns equate a correct right turn, instead of understanding that a right turn, having been missed, must be immediately corrected by faithfully backtracking. I often have him in mind when I speak to you, the young readers of my blog, because he was deeply led astray in his secular education, his friendships, the narcissism of the entertainment media (he is a gifted musician), and his lack of upbringing in the faith. So I try to help those who read and who listen to me to avoid those pitfalls, into which he and his mother have fallen and sadly, so many others, despite my pleadings and stern warnings.
God knows, sees all, so if you are treating someone this way, even if they never "know about it," God knows, from the moment it was first a thought in your head and, of course, even before then, since God knows all that each human ever did or will do.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Another case study of debunking cults
Here's another incident from my own life, so I can help those of you who are detoxing from exposure to cults. By the way, to me, I define a cult as any 'belief' that places human "abilities" and "gifts" over God, including both idolatry and supposedly believing "personalities" (such as so called Christians who insert themselves into salvation history).
When I was earning a paycheck and had money to spend, one of my favorite hobbies was collecting books. I had built up quite an interesting and extensive personal library. I tended to seek friendships with those who shared my interest, and thus I was open to being friends with book dealers, especially rare and used book dealers. That is typical and understandable, because all normal humans tend to form friendships over shared hobbies and interests, whether it is fishing, sports, knitting or, in my case, a love of books.
I became close to one book dealer and author in particular, and his family. Now, one thing you need to know about me is that I do not edit friends according to their beliefs or politics, even if I find them bizarre, unhelpful, and in fact, even cultish. My history of friends have included many people who have very different beliefs from me, and I do not edit them from my list of friends. That does not mean that I am not concerned that one day God will edit them from his book of eternal life, of those who are saved at death. For example, throughout my youth I was concerned about my best friend who, though born and baptized, had no connection with God at all. That did not stop me from being her friend, far from it. (What did eventually end our friendship was her open election to enable the cultists who stalked me).
Back to the book dealer friend and his family. I really, really liked them, even though their beliefs were extremely cringe worthy. I spent wonderful quality time with them and their beliefs were not a problem because they rarely talked about them. There was so many other wonderful things to talk about, books, of course, but also history and art. However, one day something happened that while it did not end the relationship, I was alerted to the knowledge that they had a hidden agenda. Regular readers know that while I was not aware for many years that I was consciously being stalked, I was aware of being stalked, which I attributed to the unconscious ability of those who are "out of sync" with God to detect those who serve God, even if that service is kept hidden or secret. It's the way cats seem to instinctively seek out people who don't like cats, and then proceed to annoy them. So I led a wary life (even to the point of having to marry someone I considered a bodyguard) because I was well aware that I was being unconsciously stalked, but did not realize that I was being deliberately harassed and that worse, this harassment was based on cruel and sickening misidentification of not only me, but of many people (due to belief in that bogus concept of "past lives," which do not, in fact, exist at all).
I bought a pair of candlesticks as a gift, on my way to visiting them. When I arrived the candlesticks were broken. I was startled and disconcerted, of course, but I am always alert to the Holy Spirit's guidance and I knew this was a warning for me. Candlesticks are very important to Catholics, by the way, just to give you background information. They adorn the altar in Catholic churches that retain their traditional furnishings, which is what I am accustomed to and what I expect. This is why candlesticks is a favorite decoration of mine and I often choose them for gifts, although I do not select particularly Christian motifs. In fact, these candlesticks were Greek column style, since I knew they enjoyed that form of art. And so when we unwrapped them and found them broken, I immediately knew that the Holy Spirit was warning me to be cautious, that there was a deliberate cultist effect afoot. Like I said, though, I still did not think in terms of being targeted and stalked, so I just thought of them as being, how shall I put it, "more at spiritual risk" than I had realized they were.
This incident had its second part months later when I visited them again, when they had moved to a different home in a different state. I really enjoyed the beauty of that area and of course seeing all of them again (there were five, two related couples and a son). But what was hidden became overt, though they did not realize it, and that ruined my relationship with one couple from that point onward. The relationship with the other couple, with the son, lingered on longer, and I had enormous affection for them, until they did the thing that cultists do when they do not "succeed" with me, which is to "disappear." Here is what happened.
The first couple informed me that they had become very involved in volunteering at a hospice. I was surprised, but that in and of itself was not unexpected because normal humans are always surprised when their friends veer off into a new interest and thus become enthusiastic and somewhat "over the top" about their new hobby or avocation. But here's what did disconcert me. They immediately put pressure on me to become involved in hospice, and they made it very clear that there was something "lacking" in me that I "needed" to be "in service" to the dying. While they were subtle in their words, I read expressions on the face and also, not to go into a lengthy explanation, but the "expressions" on the soul. I thus "heard" and "saw" expressions that were looking at me with disapproval and implying that I had no compassion or understanding for the dying.
That is quite a corker of an accusation. First of all, anyone who knows me knows that I suffered many family losses as a child. My paternal grandmother, who I adored, died when I was five. My father died when I was eight. My maternal grandmother died when I was twelve. When I was seven or eight my best friend was thrown face first through the windshield of a car in a terrible accident and could have died, but did not. So far from being insensitive to death and dying, I set an example in the family, even as a child, for persevering through difficult loss, and in trusting in God and his goodness and mercy, no matter what.
But here is the second layer of why this was such an astonishing accusation. What people did not know, of course, is that if they truly knew me, as I authentically am, in my fullness, I have attended many, many, many deathbeds, administering love, compassion and comfort, even when I was a child. And on the flip side of that coin, I have witnessed many, many, many expressions of doom and dismay on the faces of the newly departed who realize, in their personal judgement before God, that they denied and defied him throughout their lives, and are being cast into hell. So far from needing some human "diagnosed" "tutorial" on developing compassion (and the hidden agenda, which was to "get me thinking about death"), I've already seen and known more about compassionate dying and unfortunately, the all too often consequence of many people's choices, the terrible eternal outcome of punishment in hell because of unbelieving, cultist and cruel life choices, including negligence toward doing good (which is nearly as bad as actually doing evil). The Bible explains that quite clearly.
So I kept an interested but impassive face as they, casually, so they thought, pushed doing "hospice" work on me. Therefore they had no idea that I had, to use an old fashioned private detective term, "made them" (identified an undercover operative). I let the relationship with that couple "peter out" (gradually diminish) and that was not difficult, because as I've explained, when the stalking cultists "fail" at trying to hook me into some agenda of theirs (usually their agenda is to "get me to remember" things and beliefs that never existed), they tend to disappear of their own accord. They do pop up once in a while, through mailings and so forth, at the behest of their cultist handlers, usually in sync with some astrological movement. (This is why I continue to check astrology charts each day. They are bogus and crap but people do plant traps and do things according to them, especially aimed at me).
By the way, in case you are curious, these cultists have like a "United Nations" of freaky beliefs. In other words, they have alliances and coalitions, but do not necessarily share the same "belief." My trouble is mostly with "New Agers" who are obsessed with the pharaohs and Egyptology. I first "made" one of their operatives when she told me she knew "Anubis" and that "he's lonely." That is when I realized she was not just a scatty elderly lady who I loved as a friend even though she had a bit loony beliefs and interests, but that she was an operative for erroneous and anti-God beliefs. But these people who I describe in this story did not show any of the clues that this lady did of being of the New Age Egypt freaks. This is my way of cautioning you that it's not like you can "watch out" for one cult belief in particular. They are all interconnected and work together, united by three profane "beliefs:" 1) reincarnation or alien possession 2) idolatry and its accompanying occult tools and 3) denial of the God of Abraham and denial of the words of the one God's revealed word, except for selective manipulation. They have all hooked up, even though they undoubtedly among themselves probably mutter and murmur against each other, especially as they try to figure out "who the real 'reincarnated savior'" is, each vying through their narcissistic and drug fueled stupors to be "the one." If you are curious, here is the flavor of cult that my ex-book friends followed.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/G._I._Gurdjieff
(Boy was Gurdjieff surprised to find out how wrong he was, when it was too late). Just a personal comment.
And here you can read about "lonely Anubis" boy.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anubis
(It's hard to be lonely when you never existed, but hey, cultists are nothing if not self deluding, inflated and narcissistic).
I've not had much luck in finding sane friends with wholesome interests, so I've pretty much dropped the whole "friend" seeking initiative. Their loss.
I hope you find this helpful. Young people, don't fall for these old loons. Regain your senses and cling to your Torah/Talmud, Bible (all of it) or Qur'an. I don't want to see any of you be the ones I see on the ultimate "bummer trip" (to use a favorite expression) to the unbearable torment of hell for all eternity. Lots of people there, lots and lots of them.
When I was earning a paycheck and had money to spend, one of my favorite hobbies was collecting books. I had built up quite an interesting and extensive personal library. I tended to seek friendships with those who shared my interest, and thus I was open to being friends with book dealers, especially rare and used book dealers. That is typical and understandable, because all normal humans tend to form friendships over shared hobbies and interests, whether it is fishing, sports, knitting or, in my case, a love of books.
I became close to one book dealer and author in particular, and his family. Now, one thing you need to know about me is that I do not edit friends according to their beliefs or politics, even if I find them bizarre, unhelpful, and in fact, even cultish. My history of friends have included many people who have very different beliefs from me, and I do not edit them from my list of friends. That does not mean that I am not concerned that one day God will edit them from his book of eternal life, of those who are saved at death. For example, throughout my youth I was concerned about my best friend who, though born and baptized, had no connection with God at all. That did not stop me from being her friend, far from it. (What did eventually end our friendship was her open election to enable the cultists who stalked me).
Back to the book dealer friend and his family. I really, really liked them, even though their beliefs were extremely cringe worthy. I spent wonderful quality time with them and their beliefs were not a problem because they rarely talked about them. There was so many other wonderful things to talk about, books, of course, but also history and art. However, one day something happened that while it did not end the relationship, I was alerted to the knowledge that they had a hidden agenda. Regular readers know that while I was not aware for many years that I was consciously being stalked, I was aware of being stalked, which I attributed to the unconscious ability of those who are "out of sync" with God to detect those who serve God, even if that service is kept hidden or secret. It's the way cats seem to instinctively seek out people who don't like cats, and then proceed to annoy them. So I led a wary life (even to the point of having to marry someone I considered a bodyguard) because I was well aware that I was being unconsciously stalked, but did not realize that I was being deliberately harassed and that worse, this harassment was based on cruel and sickening misidentification of not only me, but of many people (due to belief in that bogus concept of "past lives," which do not, in fact, exist at all).
I bought a pair of candlesticks as a gift, on my way to visiting them. When I arrived the candlesticks were broken. I was startled and disconcerted, of course, but I am always alert to the Holy Spirit's guidance and I knew this was a warning for me. Candlesticks are very important to Catholics, by the way, just to give you background information. They adorn the altar in Catholic churches that retain their traditional furnishings, which is what I am accustomed to and what I expect. This is why candlesticks is a favorite decoration of mine and I often choose them for gifts, although I do not select particularly Christian motifs. In fact, these candlesticks were Greek column style, since I knew they enjoyed that form of art. And so when we unwrapped them and found them broken, I immediately knew that the Holy Spirit was warning me to be cautious, that there was a deliberate cultist effect afoot. Like I said, though, I still did not think in terms of being targeted and stalked, so I just thought of them as being, how shall I put it, "more at spiritual risk" than I had realized they were.
This incident had its second part months later when I visited them again, when they had moved to a different home in a different state. I really enjoyed the beauty of that area and of course seeing all of them again (there were five, two related couples and a son). But what was hidden became overt, though they did not realize it, and that ruined my relationship with one couple from that point onward. The relationship with the other couple, with the son, lingered on longer, and I had enormous affection for them, until they did the thing that cultists do when they do not "succeed" with me, which is to "disappear." Here is what happened.
The first couple informed me that they had become very involved in volunteering at a hospice. I was surprised, but that in and of itself was not unexpected because normal humans are always surprised when their friends veer off into a new interest and thus become enthusiastic and somewhat "over the top" about their new hobby or avocation. But here's what did disconcert me. They immediately put pressure on me to become involved in hospice, and they made it very clear that there was something "lacking" in me that I "needed" to be "in service" to the dying. While they were subtle in their words, I read expressions on the face and also, not to go into a lengthy explanation, but the "expressions" on the soul. I thus "heard" and "saw" expressions that were looking at me with disapproval and implying that I had no compassion or understanding for the dying.
That is quite a corker of an accusation. First of all, anyone who knows me knows that I suffered many family losses as a child. My paternal grandmother, who I adored, died when I was five. My father died when I was eight. My maternal grandmother died when I was twelve. When I was seven or eight my best friend was thrown face first through the windshield of a car in a terrible accident and could have died, but did not. So far from being insensitive to death and dying, I set an example in the family, even as a child, for persevering through difficult loss, and in trusting in God and his goodness and mercy, no matter what.
But here is the second layer of why this was such an astonishing accusation. What people did not know, of course, is that if they truly knew me, as I authentically am, in my fullness, I have attended many, many, many deathbeds, administering love, compassion and comfort, even when I was a child. And on the flip side of that coin, I have witnessed many, many, many expressions of doom and dismay on the faces of the newly departed who realize, in their personal judgement before God, that they denied and defied him throughout their lives, and are being cast into hell. So far from needing some human "diagnosed" "tutorial" on developing compassion (and the hidden agenda, which was to "get me thinking about death"), I've already seen and known more about compassionate dying and unfortunately, the all too often consequence of many people's choices, the terrible eternal outcome of punishment in hell because of unbelieving, cultist and cruel life choices, including negligence toward doing good (which is nearly as bad as actually doing evil). The Bible explains that quite clearly.
So I kept an interested but impassive face as they, casually, so they thought, pushed doing "hospice" work on me. Therefore they had no idea that I had, to use an old fashioned private detective term, "made them" (identified an undercover operative). I let the relationship with that couple "peter out" (gradually diminish) and that was not difficult, because as I've explained, when the stalking cultists "fail" at trying to hook me into some agenda of theirs (usually their agenda is to "get me to remember" things and beliefs that never existed), they tend to disappear of their own accord. They do pop up once in a while, through mailings and so forth, at the behest of their cultist handlers, usually in sync with some astrological movement. (This is why I continue to check astrology charts each day. They are bogus and crap but people do plant traps and do things according to them, especially aimed at me).
By the way, in case you are curious, these cultists have like a "United Nations" of freaky beliefs. In other words, they have alliances and coalitions, but do not necessarily share the same "belief." My trouble is mostly with "New Agers" who are obsessed with the pharaohs and Egyptology. I first "made" one of their operatives when she told me she knew "Anubis" and that "he's lonely." That is when I realized she was not just a scatty elderly lady who I loved as a friend even though she had a bit loony beliefs and interests, but that she was an operative for erroneous and anti-God beliefs. But these people who I describe in this story did not show any of the clues that this lady did of being of the New Age Egypt freaks. This is my way of cautioning you that it's not like you can "watch out" for one cult belief in particular. They are all interconnected and work together, united by three profane "beliefs:" 1) reincarnation or alien possession 2) idolatry and its accompanying occult tools and 3) denial of the God of Abraham and denial of the words of the one God's revealed word, except for selective manipulation. They have all hooked up, even though they undoubtedly among themselves probably mutter and murmur against each other, especially as they try to figure out "who the real 'reincarnated savior'" is, each vying through their narcissistic and drug fueled stupors to be "the one." If you are curious, here is the flavor of cult that my ex-book friends followed.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/G._I._Gurdjieff
(Boy was Gurdjieff surprised to find out how wrong he was, when it was too late). Just a personal comment.
And here you can read about "lonely Anubis" boy.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anubis
(It's hard to be lonely when you never existed, but hey, cultists are nothing if not self deluding, inflated and narcissistic).
I've not had much luck in finding sane friends with wholesome interests, so I've pretty much dropped the whole "friend" seeking initiative. Their loss.
I hope you find this helpful. Young people, don't fall for these old loons. Regain your senses and cling to your Torah/Talmud, Bible (all of it) or Qur'an. I don't want to see any of you be the ones I see on the ultimate "bummer trip" (to use a favorite expression) to the unbearable torment of hell for all eternity. Lots of people there, lots and lots of them.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Bible Reading: Sirach 9:10-16
Sirach is one of the books that you find in the Catholic Bible; the Protestant bibles removed this book. It's one of my favorites. Here is the section about "Choice of Friends."
Sirach 9:10-16
Discard not an old friend,
for the new one cannot equal him.
A new friend is like new wine
which you drink with pleasure only when it has aged.
Envy not a sinner's fame,
for you know not what disaster awaits him.
Rejoice not at a proud man's success;
remember he will not reach death unpunished.
Keep far from the man who has power to kill,
and you will not be filled with the dread of death.
But if you approach him, offend him not,
lest he take away your life;
Know that you are stepping among snares
and walking over a net.
As best you can, take your neighbors'
measure,
and associate with the wise.
With the learned be intimate;
let all your conversation be about the law of
the Lord.
Have just men for your table companions;
in the fear of God be your glory.
Sirach 9:10-16
Discard not an old friend,
for the new one cannot equal him.
A new friend is like new wine
which you drink with pleasure only when it has aged.
Envy not a sinner's fame,
for you know not what disaster awaits him.
Rejoice not at a proud man's success;
remember he will not reach death unpunished.
Keep far from the man who has power to kill,
and you will not be filled with the dread of death.
But if you approach him, offend him not,
lest he take away your life;
Know that you are stepping among snares
and walking over a net.
As best you can, take your neighbors'
measure,
and associate with the wise.
With the learned be intimate;
let all your conversation be about the law of
the Lord.
Have just men for your table companions;
in the fear of God be your glory.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Story about a Prayer Rug in London
I've been thinking about Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid al-Maktoum of Dubai's generous gift (reported two posts below) that is for an education center for reading skills (especially women) and job creation in the Middle East. In the course of thinking about it, I found myself thinking about an amazing thing that happened in the early 90's. The theme of why it came to my mind is how close I feel to the mainstream of Muslim worshippers, even though I am a Roman Catholic.
From 1985-1994 I worked for a major international bank. I often had reason to visit London, which I enjoyed, as I used to love that city (having traveled there on business even before this particular job) and I developed deep friendships, even loving a Brit lol. But even after that relationship ended, I had wanted to work on assignment in London, either in my current (at that time) field of information technology and banking, or in a very different field (one of my friends had an antiquities shop and I enjoyed collecting and identifying antiquities.) So I was always trying to get a way to work in the London office of the bank, so I could get a work visa, and hopefully raise the money I would need for perhaps the antiquities business.
In the early 1990's my staff started working on a small but significant project for a Saudi bank that was a partly owned affiliate of the bank we worked for. I visited them on location in their separate building, which was in what is called the "Bishopsgate" section of London. I met our Saudi bank liaison manager and I just loved him, he was such a great guy. Everyone had raved about him, what a great manager he was, and how humanistic and friendly he was to everyone, and they were right. He was such a cool guy. During my visit he gave me and my two staff members a tour of the building.
When we walked into a conference room he gestured to follow him toward the coat closet, which he then opened. It was empty except for a rolled light color rug of Oriental design on the top shelf. He said, "This is our prayer rug." The moment I saw it I was touched so deeply. In the early 90's it was the height of secularism, and to see the devotion that was brought into the office by the Saudi bank employees greatly moved me. At the same time I felt the most urgent need to bless the rug and without conscious thought my hand reached up to touch it with a blessing of the God of Abraham. Our friend intercepted my hand quickly and said very nicely that I should not touch it. I understood why, but I had a very bad feeling of something unfinished in not doing so. I also realized that this was a secular building full of men and women, including cleaning staff, who had undoubtedly handled the rug, but I truly respected their rules and so of course we moved on with our tour and gave it no further thought. I'm sure that my manager friend thought I was just being an uninformed nosy woman who didn't understand the sacred context of the prayer rug, but of course I did. I could not rid myself of the feeling that my not being able to touch and bless the rug was something that left unmet a need (and this is no reflection on any incompleteness of the rug itself or the people who used it). I could not identify my feeling of disquiet.
Over the next couple of years I tried to get to London, including my wish to work for the Saudi bank. I really would have liked to work for our friend there, and with the people who worked for him. These were mostly Brits, men and women, who worked there, as they employed locally. But my friend had no openings and I could not get an interview there. And I eventually found that I was being pushed out of my very job in New York, in the sadistic way that any reader of Dilbert comic strip would recognize, lol. So in 1994 was tortured into resigning and moved on. I wasted 1994 still trying to get a job in London, as I still loved that city, even though I no longer had friends there, but I had to give up and get a job in another hell hole bank in NYC.
One day I heard the news that the building which housed that Saudi bank affiliate had been blown to smithereens by an IRA truck bomb. Thank GOD that it had taken place at night when no one was working in the bank building, except security. As I recall, there were several casualties on street level, and every one is painful and unfair. But it could have been horrendous if this had occurred during business hours. I heard through a mutual friend that everyone was OK, and had to squeeze into the main building of the bank I used to work for.
So now I know why I had felt such a need to bless the prayer rug in the building. I like to think the good news and blessing that can always been found in even the worst, is that the building was not filled with people, and it was not rush hour, or the height of the shopping day on the street. Even though the building had to be torn down, when I hear the name Bishopsgate, instead of visualizing the building, I see that rolled up prayer rug on the top shelf of the closet and praise God.
Here's the info from Wikipedia: On 24 April 1993 it was the site of a Provisional Irish Republican Army truck bomb, which killed journalist Ed Henty, injured over 40 people and caused £350,000,000 worth of damage, including the destruction of St Ethelburga's church, and serious damage to Liverpool St. Tube Station. Police had received a coded warning, but were still evacuating the area at the time of the explosion. The insurance payments required were so enormous, that Lloyd's of London almost went bankrupt under the strain, and there was a crisis in the London insurance market. The area had already suffered damage from theBaltic Exchange bombing the year before.
From 1985-1994 I worked for a major international bank. I often had reason to visit London, which I enjoyed, as I used to love that city (having traveled there on business even before this particular job) and I developed deep friendships, even loving a Brit lol. But even after that relationship ended, I had wanted to work on assignment in London, either in my current (at that time) field of information technology and banking, or in a very different field (one of my friends had an antiquities shop and I enjoyed collecting and identifying antiquities.) So I was always trying to get a way to work in the London office of the bank, so I could get a work visa, and hopefully raise the money I would need for perhaps the antiquities business.
In the early 1990's my staff started working on a small but significant project for a Saudi bank that was a partly owned affiliate of the bank we worked for. I visited them on location in their separate building, which was in what is called the "Bishopsgate" section of London. I met our Saudi bank liaison manager and I just loved him, he was such a great guy. Everyone had raved about him, what a great manager he was, and how humanistic and friendly he was to everyone, and they were right. He was such a cool guy. During my visit he gave me and my two staff members a tour of the building.
When we walked into a conference room he gestured to follow him toward the coat closet, which he then opened. It was empty except for a rolled light color rug of Oriental design on the top shelf. He said, "This is our prayer rug." The moment I saw it I was touched so deeply. In the early 90's it was the height of secularism, and to see the devotion that was brought into the office by the Saudi bank employees greatly moved me. At the same time I felt the most urgent need to bless the rug and without conscious thought my hand reached up to touch it with a blessing of the God of Abraham. Our friend intercepted my hand quickly and said very nicely that I should not touch it. I understood why, but I had a very bad feeling of something unfinished in not doing so. I also realized that this was a secular building full of men and women, including cleaning staff, who had undoubtedly handled the rug, but I truly respected their rules and so of course we moved on with our tour and gave it no further thought. I'm sure that my manager friend thought I was just being an uninformed nosy woman who didn't understand the sacred context of the prayer rug, but of course I did. I could not rid myself of the feeling that my not being able to touch and bless the rug was something that left unmet a need (and this is no reflection on any incompleteness of the rug itself or the people who used it). I could not identify my feeling of disquiet.
Over the next couple of years I tried to get to London, including my wish to work for the Saudi bank. I really would have liked to work for our friend there, and with the people who worked for him. These were mostly Brits, men and women, who worked there, as they employed locally. But my friend had no openings and I could not get an interview there. And I eventually found that I was being pushed out of my very job in New York, in the sadistic way that any reader of Dilbert comic strip would recognize, lol. So in 1994 was tortured into resigning and moved on. I wasted 1994 still trying to get a job in London, as I still loved that city, even though I no longer had friends there, but I had to give up and get a job in another hell hole bank in NYC.
One day I heard the news that the building which housed that Saudi bank affiliate had been blown to smithereens by an IRA truck bomb. Thank GOD that it had taken place at night when no one was working in the bank building, except security. As I recall, there were several casualties on street level, and every one is painful and unfair. But it could have been horrendous if this had occurred during business hours. I heard through a mutual friend that everyone was OK, and had to squeeze into the main building of the bank I used to work for.
So now I know why I had felt such a need to bless the prayer rug in the building. I like to think the good news and blessing that can always been found in even the worst, is that the building was not filled with people, and it was not rush hour, or the height of the shopping day on the street. Even though the building had to be torn down, when I hear the name Bishopsgate, instead of visualizing the building, I see that rolled up prayer rug on the top shelf of the closet and praise God.
Here's the info from Wikipedia: On 24 April 1993 it was the site of a Provisional Irish Republican Army truck bomb, which killed journalist Ed Henty, injured over 40 people and caused £350,000,000 worth of damage, including the destruction of St Ethelburga's church, and serious damage to Liverpool St. Tube Station. Police had received a coded warning, but were still evacuating the area at the time of the explosion. The insurance payments required were so enormous, that Lloyd's of London almost went bankrupt under the strain, and there was a crisis in the London insurance market. The area had already suffered damage from theBaltic Exchange bombing the year before.
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