G-Poppers … December 4th, 2015

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2772)

Jon close up

 

Come listen, my children, and you will hear

How we’ve learned to hate and live in fear.

G-Pop wonders.

Will his children fall victim to the negative pundits who spin every news story into a situation which cannot be resolved, lending itself to despair?

Does G-Pop have the fortitude to step in and say that our problem is not as complicated as presented by those who seemingly make a living out of baffling us?

There are three approaches to people. If you use the wrong one, you can end up with disastrous results. Finding the correct attitude is the doorway to the possibility of peaceful coexistence.

Even though this week, two people took guns and killed their neighbors, hundreds and thousands did not. That seems to be lost in the discussion.

Do we really believe that the millions of us who would not harm anyone cannot effectively address the tiny handful who are determined to be destructive?

It all revolves around our approach. Here’s the first school of thought:

1. People are good.

For you see, if people are good, all they really require is praise and encouragement. Yet I will tell you, people are not innately good. Every thing born with an appetite over-consumes. Human beings have too many lusts, apprehensions and greedy moments to ever be classified as good.

Therefore praise bolsters the insane while often being insufficient for the saint.

2. People are bad.

If this is true, they should be punished. They should be degraded. They should be viewed as expendable.

Religion and politics certainly cannot survive without maintaining the philosophy that human beings suck. Once we believe that “bad” can wear a human face, killing it off can almost seem heavenly.

3. People are people.

They’re not just good, they’re not just bad. Having consumed the knowledge of good and evil, they are constantly torn and teased with the options–without ever arriving at a true conviction. So praising them will be fairly unsuccessful, and punishing them will limit their scope for angelic deeds.

Because people are people, they need to be motivated.

You can’t simply make new commandments, new laws, new restrictions and think you’re going to stop the bad part of people.

Likewise, you can’t assume that every mortal is filled with demonic proportions, and should be locked away and disconnected from their passions.

We need to be motivated.

  • Why should I love my neighbor?
  • Why should we encourage the Jew and the Palestinian to get along?
  • Why should we take care of our children?

Give me reasons that have benefits and I will listen. Give me demands with no obvious personal value, and I will rebel.

G-Pop hopes his children understand. People are not just good or bad. This thinking leads to a dead-end of discouragement.

People are people.

So be prepared to motivate them–or stand back and watch as they choose good or bad, solely based upon convenience.

 

 

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Untotaled: Stepping 40 (May 19th, 1967) Last Day of School ’67… November 15, 2014

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2414)

(Transcript)

How does one describe the last day of school?

I suppose I could use the word “rapture” if it weren’t so entwined with the religious phenomenon.

I could use “orgasm” if it wasn’t so linked with what would be misconstrued by prudes.

So I guess the best word would be “carnivale.” Not that I’ve ever been to one–I’m just assuming the wild, abandoned glee over not having any more pressing responsibilities pushing in on you, realizing that there are a full eighty-eight days of summer ahead.

I never liked to be the first one to leave the school on the last day.

I liked to hang around for a few moments to walk the empty halls, with little clumps of dust still tumbling along, and discarded papers left to the discretion of the overworked janitor.

So by the time I headed home, everyone was pretty well gone, and it wasn’t until I got to my front door that I remembered I had forgotten to pick up an English book which my mother had insisted I bring home, because she had paid eleven and ninety-nine to purchase it because I had misplaced the provided copy.

So I had to weigh my options. My mom’s anger, or returning to the school I had just gloriously abandoned.

I walked back.

The door was still open and as I entered, there was an eerie sensation which crept down my spine at being in this empty edifice of learning, now so silent that you could hear the creaking hinges on the door.

I made my way down the hallway to Mr. Marshall’s English class, which also, miraculously, was still unlocked.

I crept through the door and walked to the storeroom where I knew he kept the books. I gently turned the knob, crossing the fingers of my other hand, hoping that it, too would be accessible. It was.

So I flung the door open in glee, only to discover that in the shadowy confines, not yet lit up by the overhead bulb, was Mr. Marshall, shirt unbuttoned, kissing Miss Crowley, the biology teacher, who had her top off, showing her “booba-toobas.”

(I developed the name “booba-toobas” in an attempt to be unique and humorous, and even though it was silly, I persisted in the terminology since a cheerleader once giggled upon hearing it.)

Honestly, in my entire life’s journey, I have never seen three people so frozen in time. Mr. Marshall, Miss Crowley, and dumb me, peering at one another.

No one knew what to do.

Finally, Miss Crowley grabbed her blouse to cover up her left “tooba” and said, “Jonathan, what are you doing here?”

I gasped, “I came to get my book.”

“You want a book?” she inquired.

Apparently my quest for knowledge was more surprising to her than being found in a closet with her paramour.

Mr. Marshall disconnected himself from the human apparatus, put his arm around me and walked from the room out into the hallway. He stood there looking at me for a long time. I wanted to say something but everything that popped to my mind seemed dangerous.

At length he sighed and said, “Well, Jonathan, we have a situation here.”

I nodded.

“Tell you what I’m going to do,” he continued. “I’m going to treat you like an adult. I’m gonna believe that you’re going to walk out of here with your book and never say another word about what you saw.”

Leaning in close to my face, he punctuated, “Because if you did, Miss Crowley and I would probably get in a helluva lot of trouble.”

I knew he meant what he said because no teacher would ever use the word “hell” in front of me unless he felt I was worthy to join him at the local bar for a drink.

All I said to him was, “I won’t.”

With this, I took flight out the door, running as fast as my fat legs would carry me.

I know he must have thought he was sunk, but on the way home I felt so grown-up.

I was trusted.

For the first time in my life, I was to be taken at my word without the threat of punishment.

And you know what?

I never did tell.

Even a month later, when my friends came over to sleep at the house and we watched “Chiller Theater” and everybody was getting real honest, I bit my lip and the side of my cheek, and stuffed a lot of pizza into my mouth to keep from blabbing.

When I returned to school that fall, Miss Crowley was gone and I heard she had gotten married over the summer–but not to Mr. Marshall.

The grown-up world is very confusing.

I never told anyone until this day, even though I have used memories of Miss Crowley’s “booba-toobas” to stimulate a few sessions in youthful lust.

 

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G-24: To Kill or Not to Kill… May 16, 2014

bloodJonathots Daily Blog

(2234)

Cain killed his brother.

What to do with Cain?

It seems that dead men can’t repent.

Vengeance tends to communicate that we don’t believe in salvation.

It’s just too easy to kill.

After all, you can’t be God if you can’t salvage people.

Punishment has little value if the punished can’t make amends.

Will Cain kill again?

Is living a better punishment than execution?

Who is hopeless?

Can a curse be turned into a blessing?

Can the knowledge of evil transform people to appreciate the knowledge of good?

No one really knows what God thought.

I guess that’s why we call Him God.

He has a bigger brain.

But we do know this:

Cain killed Abel.

But God didn’t kill Cain.

 

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After an appearance earlier this year in Surprise, Arizona, Janet and I were blessed to receive a “surprise” ourselves. Click on the beautiful Arizona picture above to share it with us!

Click here to get info on the "Gospel According to Common Sense" Tour

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Duck for Cover… December 21, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2097)

Duck DynastyHere was my plan.

Having grown sick of seeing people park at shopping malls in total disregard to the rules and regulations, in a fit of what I would call righteous fury, I decided I would go out and make a citizen’s arrest of individuals who were impinging on the rights of others by where they perched their vehicles and even how they decided to wiggle into spaces.

I found myself a fake prop gun and headed out toward my local shopping establishment. Of course, it didn’t take me any time at all to locate transgressors. If you’re looking for people who make mistakes, who are breaking the law AND you have enough pickiness in your own soul to incriminate them, you can quickly discover a whole prison-load of infractors.

Lickety-split, using my fake gun to intimidate, I wrangled up fifteen perpetrators and forced them to get into my big, black van, slamming the door, locking it, intimidating them with my presence, and gleefully dialing the police department, to inform them that I had faithfully executed the mission of honoring the laws of the land.

To my surprise, when the police arrived, rather than cuffing these illegal parkers, they instead placed the shackles on my wrists and led me away as I screamed my objections to such foul treatment for a faithful disciple against moving violators.

The individuals I had detained were released and offered apologies by the police department, as I turned to one of the nearby officers and said, “What did I do wrong? I just followed the letter of the law and discovered those who weren’t, pointed it out and detained them until such time that YOU could offer sufficient punishment.”

He replied, “The law has justice and justice has mercy.”

So true.

Of course, I didn’t actually go to the mall with a fake gun. I share the story to make a point.

It’s something that Phil Robertson forgot a few days ago when he ran into the public square and insisted that people listen to the law of religion and theology and follow it because it was written a certain way at a certain time.

Mr. Duck Dynasty forgot that God often contradicts His own edicts by offering grace for a multitude of sins. Even if Phil feels that homosexuality is a sin, he didn’t take into consideration that Jesus, when confronted with the blatant interpretation of Mosaic law concerning stoning a woman caught in adultery, turned his back on the commandment and rose up and forgave her.

In the process of pursuing justice for each and every one of us, God frequently contradicts the laws that mankind interpreted to be His will–in order that He might rescue people from destruction.

Because it’s not just about the law. Justice comes to play.

And justice is when we’re each given a chance, individually, to be viewed by a loving Father who evaluates us personally. And even then, when justice has had its day, mercy is greater than all of it.

My advice to anyone who thinks they understand the Bible, especially as it pertains to someone else’s life, is to just shut the hell up.

Because even though people may commit indiscretions by your standards, God does not look on the outward appearance.  He looks on the heart.

And if He peers, from His heavenly home, on the hearts of two people in love, don’t you ever assume that he turns them over to check what gender they are.

My brother, Phil, is probably a good and kind man in his normal moments, but he mistakenly thinks he can detain others because there may be some sort of law permitting him to do so.

Justice and mercy always trump the cold reading of heavenly commandments.

 

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