Sit Down Comedy … April 5th, 2019

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Yes, let my opinions begin

I, for one, think the grocer should know what a plum is.

The plumber should be acquainted with his or her way around a toilet.

A toilet should certainly flush.

We should be flushed with excitement just over living.

Living should be easy.

Easy should be like Sunday morning.

And I contend that Sunday morning should be like heaven.

Yet we are observing life as if it is something that happens to us instead of something we control.

Do Not Accept

Even though I, like you, received DNA at birth, the three initials, in my mind, stand for Do Not Accept.

I do not accept that I am the sob-total of all of my molecules, colliding and fussing with one another.

I do not accept that I have to be white just because my skin has a tone, or a dominant male because of how I urinate, and some red-or-blue-state-philosophy due to my politics.

I do not accept that my life is pre-determined by birth, but instead, insist on daily being born again.

For I feel that if mankind can stop making the classic four mistakes, we could become humankind and start assisting one another to break out of the goo of procreation and start generating lives.

What are the classic four mistakes?

  1. We choose things by how attractive they are.
  2. We foolishly follow the crowd, thinking popularity means shit.
  3. Rather than being creative, we are defensive.
  4. We lie because lying is lying around, lying.

So, encrusted with these stale, day-old-bread mannerisms, we struggle to interact with each other in fresh ways and end up with burnt toast.

I think it begins with misconceptions about our “personal space.”

I was thinking about this just yesterday…


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1 Thing You Can Do This Week to Make a Practical Step Forward


Save Critique for Yourself (and Yourself Only, May I Add)

Even though there’s a theory blowing in the wind that constructive criticism actually exists, most critique that leaves one’s lips and floats in the direction of another soul generally manifests some sort of destruction.

There’s only one person who can handle your critique—you

Why?

Because you know when to give it, how to present it and when to drop it before you start crying.

It is not a courtesy you can promise to someone else, who might fall victim to your burst of opinions.

Critique has value when it is offered in the mind of one human, heard in the heart of the same being and set in motion within the soul of the identical person.

After all, three things are for sure:

  1. You can hear it.
  2. You will recover from the experience.
  3. You can change.

Now, this makes for great critique.

All other attempts are hidden forms of malice, jealousy, confusion, ignorance and selfishness.


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1 Thing You Can Do This Week To Address An Unruly World


MAKE EVERYTHING A SMALL DEAL

We spend way too much time isolating off the things we think are important, and then build a concrete wall around our minds and emotions, to make sure no one ever infringes on these sacred concepts.

It takes away our flexibility.

It causes us to appear opinionated instead of just blessed with an opinion, and it terminates many relationships which could have bloomed through the seeds of discussion, even if there was disagreement.

What really is a big deal?

If you find you have a list, you can take the number of things you have compiled and subtract them from your potential.

Abrasively showing up to every human encounter with a personal agenda of what you deem to be “the most holy of holies of ideas” is to leave yourself without the ability to learn, and often places you in the role of a fool, when time and knowledge press on, exposing your error.

“It’s no big deal,” because I decided to make it a small deal.

“It’s no big deal,” because ultimately, the way I treat other human beings is the sole criterion for my worth.

Take this week and chop away at all the things you think are big deals and put them to the side as kindling wood—by declaring, “Oh, don’t worry. That’s just a small deal.”


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Good News and Better News … January 29th, 2018

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Somewhere stuck between pissed off and tuned out, I waddle and wheeze, waiting for a needful kick in the butt, which I pray will actually be a whack of love.

For I am a human being. I look a lot like a monkey, but my Daddy is the King of the Universe (paternity test yet to be performed).

While we wiggle and struggle over the language of piety, politics and purpose, most of the human race is looking for a pleasant path to eating a good meal, while trying to get along.

Everything is too damn complicated. Matter of fact, writing this essay creates the risk of heaping another helping of opinion onto the stinky pile accumulated behind the house.

Can we simplify?

As far as I know (and I could be wrong, but not just because you think so–there would have to be some merit to your objection) every one of us needs:

1. A start of heart.

If we don’t feel, we don’t have any feeling. If we have no feeling, we have no empathy, and without empathy we start treating people like dogs (or even worse, because we kind of like dogs).

2. A goal of soul.

Even if there were no God we would have to invent one in order to lift our behavior above eye-gouging and tooth extraction.

I need a soul. I need to know you have one. Otherwise, if you get in my way, you could start looking like a cockroach and I might be tempted to strap on my killin’ boots.

3. A lane for the brain.

Parents, culture, family, schooling and misgivings have built cement freeways in our cranium. Unfortunately these roads don’t always take us to a healthy place. We need a lane in the brain to keep us from being insane.

4. A wealth of health.

I’m talking about your best health. If you’re like me, you’ll probably never be as well-structured as an Olympic athlete. But you can be the best pudgy, healthy rendition of the model that’s been provided for you.

These are the four things we’re all concerned about when we aren’t bitching. Once we begin to complain, life becomes too pat. “It’s your fault because it couldn’t be my fault because I have no fault.”

As you see, this is not a very fruitful profile.

So the good news is, if we will stop trying to change the world by preaching, the better news is, we might just start finding so much commonality that we are sympathetic to one another.

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3 Things… November 23rd, 2017

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You Do That Let People Know That You Can Be Trusted

1.  You are not shocked, offended or defensive about making a mistake.

 

2.  You hear other opinions and may even use them.

 

3.  You confess your lie before getting caught.

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G-Poppers … August 18th, 2017

 Jonathots Daily Blog

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Jon close up

G-Pop’s five-year-old son came strolling over carrying a dirty, beat-up baby blanket with frayed edges, which had been the source of great comfort and solace to the little chap for years.

He handed it to G-Pop and said, “Fix it.”

The blanket did need some help.

The ends were torn and worn from being drug on the ground and any memory of the original color had faded beneath a cloud of general “dirty.”

G-Pop’s son even brought along the family sewing kit to aid in the repair. G-Pop peered at the blanket and then down into the hopeful eyes of his child.

“I don’t need the sewing kit. It won’t help. What I need is a pair of scissors.”

The five-year-old squinted. “Why?”

Why indeed?

G-Pop realized that the ony way to fix the blanket was to carefully take the scissors and meticulously trim off the ripped regions on the perimeter. They could not be fixed. They would never be woven into the one piece of cloth. They were gone.

They were needfully gone. A new border needed to be negotiated. Otherwise, the blanket was worthless.

G-Pop was thinking about that today as he was mulling over the situation in our country.

We are a tattered patchwork, and our ends are frayed. Attempts to sew things together or make them right are useless because the substance to stitch is just not there.

Here’s the truth: No matter how honorable foolish people are in pursuing their goals, the end result is still foolishness.

No matter how many flags are waved for the glory of a cause, if that idea is unrighteous, unfair and bigoted, it needs to cease to exist. It is frayed; it is torn. And it will continue to tear into the other fabric if we allow it to blow in the wind.

It is time for America to bring its security blanket to the forefront, and for us–as “we, the people”–to take scissors and cut away the nonsense.

After all, some things are wrong because God and Mother Nature got together and decided they were wrong. Yes, Science and the Divine often have meetings, and generate or terminate parts of the Earth.

So grab your scissors, starting with your own life, setting an example for those around you, and:

1. Trim back opinions.

Opinions are stop-offs on our way to the truth. To spend too much time touting them is to delay the arrival of common sense.

2. Clip the need to debate.

If the goal of a debate is to find out what is really workable, then perhaps it has merit. If it is to change the minds of those around us by using words, statistics and intimidation, it is fruitless. The time we spend debating could be put to better use by creating.

3. Snip the separations.

If America is a melting pot, let it melt. And while you’re at it, jump in the pan. A stew should be so well-cooked that people have to ask you what kind of concoction it is instead of looking inside and noting a predominance of chicken.

Thus, America. We shouldn’t be identified as white, black, Hispanic, cultural, ethnic, Anglo-Saxon, Asian, male or female.

The blend should be complete.

If you are saying anything before “American” it is contentious, be it African, Asian, Mexican, white or female. Just “American” will do fine.

The tapestry of our country is frayed. The extreme ends cannot be repaired. We must trim them away, allowing a new edge to our common understanding.

 

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Reverend Meningsbee (Part 40) And With All Your Getting … February 5th, 2017

 Jonathots Daily Blog

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Reverend Meningsbee

Sluggish.

A solemn surrender to sadness.

After many weeks of a revival of human emotion, appreciation and pursuit of the general welfare, the Garsonville community gradually settled back into its traditional format of pending suspicion and growing apprehension.

It was actually rather sudden–a transition that occurred over a two-week period. One moment people were smiling, greeting each other warmly and taking an extra second or two while shaking hands. And the next thing you knew, they were creating distance, staking claim to their turf.

Meningsbee noticed it immediately. When he turned to face the congregation, they had stopped grinning. Now they were peering–that fussy, Midwestern squint, poised to offer disapproval.

He felt alone.

This reversion to blandness, which was so clear to him, seemed satisfactory to the rest of the gang, which had obviously decided that the resurrection in their spirits had merely been a Ferris Wheel ride of intrigue. Now it was time to return home from the circus, to do the chores and milk the cows.

Meningsbee thought to himself that over the years, many preachers from this community had faced this quandary–a burst of enthusiasm followed by creeping and crawling backwards, to a profile of preoccupation.

Those ministers may have decided to ignore the digression and accept the inevitable. Not Richard Meningsbee.

So on the ninth Sunday after the beginning of the town’s jubilation, he stood before the congregation and spoke.

“Rich. Young. Ruler.

“That’s how the Good Book describes him. Not a bad combo, do you think? I don’t believe there’s a person here who would object to being richer, younger or even ruling something.

“It also lets us know that this fella was intrigued by all things spiritual. His journey had taken him through the rigors of religion–following commandments, listening to sermons and abstaining from lying and adultery.

“Then he hears about a young man from Nazareth who has an earth-shaking rendition of God-talk. So the rich, young ruler–being rich, young and a ruler–goes out to see Jesus to ask a question. ‘What must I do to get to heaven?’

“From his perspective, that’s all that remained. He was set up for life with all the wine, women and song the commandments would allow. But he was curious how he could maintain that status in the afterlife.

“So when the boy was dissatisfied with Jesus’ response, Jesus gave him a truthful answer. You all remember that, don’t you? The truth? It used to float by every once in a while. Jesus told him, ‘If you want to go to heaven, go out, sell everything you’ve got and give it to the poor.’

“Was Jesus declaring some sort of war on poverty? Of course not. There were poor people when Jesus showed up and they were still there when he left. Jesus was declaring a war on selfishness. In other words, if you’re rich, you’re young, you’re a ruler and you’re following all the commandments and going to church like you should–and you’re still dissatisfied, the problem just may not be linked to your Bible study and prayer. It could be that you know you’re full of crap, but you just don’t like the idea of being full of crap.

“After all, Jesus only asked him to temporarily donate his wealth. He was young and he was a ruler, which certainly granted him the means to get funky and rich again. But to do so, he would have to admit that money was not the source of his power. The Good Book says he walked away sadly.

“Now, I’m lookin’ out this morning at sad people. Oh, you all would argue with me and insist you’re just fine. You would inform me that the boost of joy and gratitude our community experienced over the past couple of months was a shower of blessing, and now we’re just back to the heat of the day.

“You might even shake your heads and say, ‘Reverend Meningsbee, you just don’t understand us Nebraskan folk.’ But I’ll tell you–there are only three roads you can take.

“You can pretend there’s no heaven and just do whatever the hell you want to. You can pretend that heaven and hell is all there is, and make your reservation at the cooler place. Or you can believe that heaven and hell begin now. How we treat each other. How we approach our work. How we accept other people’s children. And whether or not we think God is smilin’ or frownin’.

“I will not pastor a church that thinks our journey is all about ‘making the pearly gates’ or ‘avoiding a devil’s hell.’ Yes, I will tell you plainly, if you don’t give a damn, then be damned with ya’. We’re gonna keep the revival alive instead of finding our hole and crawling in it.

“If you were that young chap, would you leave sadly? I guess the question is, will you leave sadly today?”

As Meningsbee finished, he jogged down the middle aisle, passing through the narthex, out the door, into the parking lot, jumped in his car, started it and left.

He didn’t want to hear opinions–and he didn’t want to be tempted to soften his words as the bruised filed by him on their way to mediocrity.

He would wait and see how the message of the day would survive the week.

 

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