Jesonian: Just Add Water … March 29, 2015

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2546)

water into wine

He turned the water into wine

Come, celebrate

“No thanks,” we replied.

“We shall hide out in our fears

And cuddle up to our traditions.”

So he transformed the wine into blood

Here is my death

I give you my life

Nailing him down

We tried to bury his memory

Yet the blood became salvation

What was meant for evil

Has been given to us as good

Now salvation returns to waters

The water of His words

He that is thirsty

Come and drink.

 

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Populie: We Support the Troops… September 17, 2014

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2354)

we support our troops

The greatest courtesy I can offer to any of my readers is to attempt to provide a non-prejudiced format of information which is vacant of opinion. (Of course, this is basically impossible to do since I am a mortal, and love to hear the sound of my own voice.) But let me attempt to be more faithful with today’s populie.

In the first one hundred years of our existence as a nation–1776 to 1876–our young, fledgling experiment was involved in nineteen years of war. In other words, 19% of the time we were sending young men off to die in some sort of escapade “for freedom.”

In the next one hundred years–from 1876 to 1976–we were involved in seventeen years of war. 17%. A drop.

From 1976 to 2001, a span of twenty-five years, we took three of those to be involved in war, placing us in a descending 12%.

But from 2001 to present–thirteen years–we have been involved in eleven years of war. An astounding 86% spike.

This increase in blood, guts, aggression and interference has caused us to develop several national policies, quietly, to sustain this burdensome effort. Among them is the popular notion that the military is honorable and should be given special consideration, and the hypocritical populie of “we support the troops.”

Entertainment loves it because even though they tout themselves to be liberals who want to preserve the turtle doves in some park, they have never met a movie that does not require a gun.

Religion favors this populie because it gives us something to pray for, allowing us to feel we’re transforming the world one bullet at a time.

And of course, politicians not only rattle their sabers, but occasionally brandish them to warn infidels and heathen of the power of our nation, while stirring the blood of the voters in their favor.

Do you really want to support the troops? Then get real instead of putting on a phony patriotism and a theatrical appreciation for our men and women who serve. Here’s how you can support the troops:

1. Stop starting wars that have nothing to do with us.

If we really believe we’re a Christian nation, we should only attack if we’re attacked. Period. I will guarantee you that soldiers would be satisfied to be “at readiness” instead of in peril.

2. If you find yourself in the position of starting a war which is considered to be necessary, then institute the draft.

Don’t go to your volunteer army or your reserves and ask them to take on innumerable tours of duty because you don’t want to bother the elite young people of our country. I will tell you, if George W. Bush had instituted the draft in 2003, the Iraq War would not have lasted more than four years, and if it had, there would have been protesters in the street, just as there were in 1970 regarding Vietnam.

3. Take care of the obvious needs of our veterans, granting them the dignity of acclimating back into society without being impoverished second-class citizens.

Don’t tell me you support the troops and then fail to notice that we are not taking care of their medical needs or helping them get off the street–homeless ex-soldiers.

I do not like a charade. Since we have come across the same situation we had in the Civil War, in which our weaponry has outgrown our medical ability to take care of the human body, we might want to slow up the carnage so we don’t have so many combatants trying to move around without limbs and hampered by severe brain injuries.

The United States has decided it’s the Roman Empire, and just as the Romans did, we are beginning to over-extend ourselves under the guise of being the “muscle men of the world”–to eventually be taken down by our version of Vandals from Germany, whom I am sure the Romans also considered to be terrorists.

I support the troops with all my heart–so much so that I work for peace, I challenge avarice and I question my government when it tries to excite the populace by waving the flag over the next conflict.

 

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Untotaled: Stepping 30 (November 12th, 1966) Candy Crash … September 6, 2014

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2344)

(Transcript)

A mumbling conversation.

An attempt to disguise the nasty details of a tragedy from the fragile adolescent.

That would be me–the teen who is to be seen but never understood.

I listened carefully.

Whispers.

Aunt Janice. Uncle Randy. My cousin Jeremy. And my cousin Candy.

My ears perk when I hear “Candy.”

I love Candy. I mean, I love her because she notices me. She believes I’m alive. Her eyes focus on me instead of quickly darting away to other distractions.

The last time I saw her she said, “Jonathan, you look nice today.”

My breath squeezed from my lungs. I thanked her and rushed from the room, went outside, found a corner unto myself and cried.

No one sees me. And certainly, no one thinks I look nice.

So I listened more intently.

Car wreck. Injuries.

And then many hidden words I can’t quite make out.

When suddenly, the room stands still as I hear uttered, “Candy was killed.”

I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think. I didn’t want to know–but I had to ask them.

They rebuked me for listening in on adult conversations. I didn’t care.

“What happened to Candy?” I shouted, trying to pull up short of a scream.

Driving on vacation in Florida, Aunt Janice, Uncle Randy, Jeremy and Candy were struck by a drunk driver who went left of center, seriously injuring three of them … and killing the flower.

I couldn’t comprehend.

I saw no reasonable purpose for such insanity.

One week passed. It was Candy’s funeral. Aunt Janice was there in a body cast, Randy with a broken leg and Jeremy, all cut up and weeping. The whole room smelled like blood and rubbing alcohol.

One by one, family members passed by Candy’s casket. They paused and wept for a young woman with such promise, struck down at twenty-one.

It was my turn.

I spoke firmly to my legs, asking them to move, and gradually made my way to look into the mahogany box.

It was so odd.

Because she had been thrown through the windshield and severely mutilated, they had constructed a mask of her face made out of plastic, put make-up on it and squeezed it over her fractured features.

Before me was a doll.

It was a mannequin representation of a living soul.

I must have stood there too long because my mother came to my side, poked me in the ribs, and told me to move on.

I did so obediently, having no urge to stare at the harlequin before me. I excused myself and went outside.

About ten minutes later I returned. No one was in the room–just the casket, the empty shell of a saint … and me.

Mustering all my strength, I walked over again and looked at my departed loved one.

I said, “Candy, you look nice today.”

 

 

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G-36: Present … August 8, 2014

 

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2316)

bloody babyShame is what stalls us into believing that matters of the heart are not fair, and therefore, we check out of life instead of trying to understand how to overcome the malady.

So it was with the Creator.

He found Himself under the illusion that being one who creates, granting life, was sufficient to motivate the created being into pursuing excellence. It didn’t happen–and when it didn’t, the Creator felt shame, which turned to anger, and with it, a season of destruction.

Realizing that His creation was much more vulnerable than He had originally intended, He decided to learn to be a Father, a provider and then a protector–one who proffered prophecy and advice–and finally, to reflect on the magnitude of Fatherhood and discover purpose.

All of these revelations initiated highs and their lows, but ended with a chasm still affixed between the Creator and the created.

After four hundred years of waiting for the global climate to offer the possibility of total earthly understanding, the Creator made a decision to become one of the created.

  • For after all, in the human realm, how can you be a good father unless you first understand what it was like to be a son or a daughter?
  • How can you have compassion if you’ve never been the object of the discipline, but only the enactor?
  • How can you comprehend the instinct to rebel if you’ve always found yourself in the hierarchy?

The Creator decided to become part of the created.

Without asking for any favor or preference, He entered into the body of a woman as the seed of the promise of a child. He was born of blood and water. For the first time, when He looked to the heavens, He did so as a mere mortal instead of the King of Glory.

He went from being a Father to placing Himself into the role of a Son. He learned firsthand what it was like to be fathered. There were four immediate surprises:

1. Life is emotional, not ethereal.

2. Fear steals love from the heart of the hopeful.

3. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.

4. Guilt makes human beings bastards.

Some of the lessons were painful; other discoveries were mind-blowing and earth-shaking.

He found Himself as a created being, sitting on the top of a mountain, talking to His fellow humans one-on-one about how to do it better. 

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G-15: Compete or Compare?… March 14, 2014

Jonathots Daily Blog  

(2176)

arm boys

Yours worked.

Mine didn’t.

Now what?

Give me yours.

You take mine.

Why not??

Okay, yours is over-rated.

Mine is misunderstood.

What do you mean, sour grapes?

You cheated.

I followed the rules.

I don’t know how, but you must have cheated.

Try this: you had an advantage.

I don’t know–maybe you’re an outstanding cheater.

I went against the grain.

You went for blood.

Everybody likes you.

I am an artist and therefore adequately ignored.

You had more money.

I had a low budget.

Really? That little??

What do you want me to do?

Imitate your plan?

I was trained to compete.

You want me to compare.

It’s not fair.

What do you mean, the famous last words of a drowning loser?

Okay, smarty. What do you suggest?

Do well? And be accepted?

What about my personal flair, unique perspective, opinions, attitudes, sense of self?

(pause)

 You don’t care, do you?

All right. So how do you pull this thing off?

Go ahead and teach me. I’m listening, but you better hurry. I can be a moody son of a gun.

(Longer pause)

Huh, sounds easier than my ideas.

I guess I can do that.

Of course, I’ll need to add my personality.

(Short pause)

Not so much?

All right. Here I am.

By the way…

Thanks.

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Populie: Life is Dark … February 19, 2014

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2156)

  • It is popular to complain.better true detective
  • And an ongoing lie is the assertion that “everything is getting worse.”
  • Put them together and you have the Populie, “Life is dark.”

Matter of fact, one way to receive ridicule and to present yourself as a novice is to say things are not as bad as they are made out to be. Be prepared to be called sentimental, maudlin or schmaltzy. If you find something to be praiseworthy, you risk losing the audience that is prepared to bitch.

  • Politicians revels in this climate because they can rail against the party in control, portraying that these renegades in power are hauling us “to hell in a handbasket.”
  • Religion picks up the banner and carries it proudly because it loves the idea that mankind is depraved and is desperately in need of an always-forgiving God.
  • And of course, entertainment is delighted with the notion, promoting projects like Breaking Bad, Boardwalk Empire, Dexter and True Detective as examples of “real life” projected onto the screen, knowing the market that exists thinks blood is cool–as long as we aren’t the ones bleeding.

So sometimes it becomes difficult to step out of this shadowy kingdom of “populie” reasoning and offer alternatives that are not nearly as debilitating.

1. Life continues through birth.

What do I mean by that? We stop believing in the power of living when we’re always trying to kill things off. There has to be a sense of regeneration, reclamation, salvation and solution or human beings despair. If you’re not going to birth something in hope, you will add to the darkness by dousing your light.

2. Caring for others is the only way to secure your own space.

Yes, we are selfish. We are concerned about our own needs. But if you’re going to stomp on the face of the person just below you, be prepared to get a foot in your own face from the one who has ascended higher than yourself.

I love other people because I need love–and the only way I could ever hope that this love will be there when I need it is to make sure I continue to put love seedlings in the soil.

3. Promoting “bad” advertises mediocrity and discourages the pursuit of excellence.

Honestly, if all I have to do in life is be better than the characters on television, I really am just fine. We aren’t given real heroes; we don’t have those who have struggled and overcome, and we are absent enough examples of people who stand up against the system to prove their point.

Everywhere I go now, even in the religious system, there is an abiding sensation that “life is dark.” I plead with my own family and children to stop peppering their minds with incessant violence, perversion and bleak dreariness that’s offered in our present politics, religion and entertainment.

I plead with you.

Because remember: the loss of empathy is the death of humanity.

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Sunday Mourning … October 27, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2049)

Sunday mourning

Jesus is dead

Though he arose

As he said

Here is his body

In the bread

Drink his blood

That was shed

Gather, listen to the tune

Bow your head

And softly croon

“Rock of ages

Cleft for me”

Bass or treble

I assume it to be

Repeat after me

The magical words

Stained glass windows

With lilies and birds

Somber you came

And quiet you go

Reach the exit

End the show

A sermon of thoughts

Three in all

Very meaningful

But can you recall

The message shared

On this day

The names of those

For which we pray

A doughnut, some coffee

A word or two

A brief sense of one

And then we are through

Yes, God is our Father

On this we agree

But He works late at night

So quiet we should be

No running in the house

No whispering to your spouse

It is the way of the Lord

Though we feel quite bored

It is not for us to understand

It is not time to strike up the band

We worship a King

Our offering we bring

For we are lost

And He paid the cost

And never will we celebrate

Instead we carefully commemorate

Please, each of us redeem

From our unholy scheme

To achieve a pious conclusion

Our temporary absolution

To return again next week

Weaker and feeling meek

So we inherit the earth

In heaven at rebirth

Sunday mourning

Tears in our eyes

Is it true emotion?

Or fear of our lies?

 

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