Catchy (Sitting 58) Sand Building…. July 22nd, 2018

Jonathots Daily Blog

(3741)

Shifting.

A gradual erosion of confidence among the populace about the once-favored “Jesus movement.”

It was difficult to know where it started. Perhaps this loss of faith was just a trait of the human race–just no longer able to tolerate goodness.

Although folks insist they are in pursuit of “peace on Earth, goodwill toward men,” they still continue to huddle around the television set to hear of wars and brood over body counts.

A movie–a parody–was released by Hollywood, entitled “Dullsbury.” It was supposed to be a gentle poking of fun at the Soulsbury experience. The premise was that the government and the elite of New York decided to isolate all of the “stupid people” and place them in a huge camp in Upper State, telling them they had won the lottery. For some reason, it didn’t occur to the “winners” why the settlement was called “Dullsbury” and had streets named “Retard Lane” and “Brain-Dead Boulevard.” Yet attempting to maintain some sort of evenness, the Hollywood ending to the motion picture was that many of the people who deemed themselves to be intelligent packed up their belongings to go live in the simplicity of Dullsbury.

But the message was clear: good is cool, but bad is hot–and the majority of the American people like their burritos caliente.

Things were further complicated when Michael Hinston was indicted on suspicion of breaking campaign finance laws and taking a bribe.

Jasper also ran into problems on his comedy tour. In trying to explain the evils of racism, he used nasty words like “nigger, chink and wetback,” causing an uprising leading to cancellations. Liberals everywhere denounced his offensive terminology.

Not to be outdone, Jubal was recorded at a rally in Egypt saying that “it was up to the Israelis to come to the peace table in good faith, and compromise.”

He was immediately dubbed anti-Semitic. He refused to retract his statement, and so became the subject of great debate on talk shows.

It wasn’t an uprising–it was a deterioration.

Like so many things that happen in life, it simply took the steam out of a heated movement and turned it lukewarm.

The two surviving graces were Jo-Jay and Carlin. Both stayed faithful to the cause. Jo-Jay kept marching in the same direction with her boots on the right feet. And Carlin continued to counter the cynicism and scandal with humor and humility.

But pretty much single-handedly, he took on the brunt of communicating the mission with little reinforcement coming from anywhere–especially Las Vegas.

Matthew completely checked out–whatever interest or intrigue he once had for the project was gone.

He pursued a love affair with an oboist. He studied her. He played her. He leaned his feelings in her direction.

Day and night he thought of new ways to pleasure her in the bedroom, and when he wasn’t thinking of sexual techniques, he was remembering the ecstasy he felt when he was in her arms.

He was smitten.

He was old enough and smart enough to know it wasn’t love. He certainly could have called it by that name, but he knew it was actually an advanced dose of infatuation, mingled with personal affection.

But it was all about the sex.

Over the past year, Matthew had indulged in so much intercourse that he had forgotten what it was like to be sexually entwined–what it meant when someone kissed you deeply without fulfilling a checklist, racing toward orgasm.

The relationship between Matthew and Leonora would have been perfect if they never had to leave the bedroom. But even though the joy between the sheets was exhilarating, both of them struggled during their conversational times to make it seem purposeful, or perhaps, meaningful.

Interaction was awkward–especially since Jasper and Soos had dropped in, and it was obvious that Leonora possessed a hostile profile toward all things divine.

Matthew was not so inclined. He didn’t hate God–he just wished that God would move to the other side of town, and not frequent the neighborhood shops. He didn’t want a world without God, but he wanted no God in his world.

Unfortunately, he felt compelled to follow the energy of Leonora’s atheism. To compromise, he stopped taking all phone calls from his cohorts on the front lines of the Jesus campaign. It was his way of tipping his hat to Leonora’s aggression, without shaking his fist at the sky.

Carlin, realizing he needed to have contact with Matthew, flew into Las Vegas. But even though they found themselves in the same building, Matthew was careful to avoid placing them in the same room.

There was no meeting. There was no agreement.

Carlin felt that the weight of the calling shifted to his shoulders, and he was ill-prepared to play the part of “Chief.”

In despair, frustrated and angry, Carlin headed back to the airport to return to Washington, D. C., to meet up with Jo-Jay and try to find a way to still “go into all the world” and share the Gospel.

As Carlin stood in the security line at the airport, two gentlemen in black suits, white shirts and black ties approached him on his right and left sides.

Lefty whispered in his ear, “Would you please come with us?”

Carlin looked to his right and then back to his left and realized he was wedged between two mountains of male humanity. He thought it best not to make a scene. He was led down the thoroughfare, through a door. A private jet stood ready.

Safely out of the airport, Carlin began to struggle with his captors. They were too strong. He shouted, but the roar of the jet engines covered his screams. In no time at all, the two hooligans physically lifted Carlin and carried him up the air steps and into the Learjet.

They dumped him into a large, comfortable seat.

Carlin quipped, “I sure hope this flight has a meal. So far the service sucks.”

 

Donate Button

The producers of Jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation for this inspirational opportunity

Salient … May 7th, 2018

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3666)

I’ve never been involved in politics. (I did have a passing interest in the candidate, Abraham Lincoln, but it turns out I was WAY too young to vote.)

I now stand back quietly and watch as the Republicans jab the Democrats, and they, the Democrats, wrestle with their more conservative opponents.

Honestly, it bores me.

Since I don’t believe political solutions bring about lasting change, it’s rather doubtful that I’d want to invest my limited lifespan into band aids for gaping wounds.

Yet today I must be honest and share a salient concept that has absolutely nothing to do with politics–although it may refer to those who are politically involved.

There seems to be some sort of bumbling campaign to make the American public accept more and more bizarre circumstances, and deem them “normal.”

For instance, a man who allegedly has a romantic tryst with a porn star actress during the time when his wife is preparing to give birth to their son, and once again, allegedly arranges for a financial payoff to this woman, using his lawyer to be the “bag man,” granting her finance so she will remain quiet about the circumstances.

These are the facts as evenly distributed as I can present them.

Now, here’s what I did today: I took that story and I considered what I would feel and think if it were alleged about five members of my community: my plumber, my banker, my minister, my son’s teacher and the local handyman.

What would I think if there were rumblings that my plumber had sexual intercourse with a porn actress and paid her off to secure her silence? Well, I suppose I would still keep him as my plumber as long as he didn’t come in the house and talk about the details or flaunt it in front of the community.

But if it were my banker, I would have to consider that anyone involved in a financial institution who would put together gag money might be a little suspect in other monetary matters. I might have to change banks.

My minister? Well, candidly, I do think there’s a difference between judging someone and condoning unsuitable behavior. No, I don’t have a problem with a minister saving the lost, but I am a little squeamish on him screwing the lost.

How about my son’s teacher? That’s a toughy. Can a person be a good teacher and still be accused of immorality and cover-up? Is it just an issue of whether the teacher shares with his class? Or is it tainted too much by the fact that the students become cognizant of the discrepancy?

And then there’s the handyman. That’s the guy who comes to your house to do the chores that you might be able to do yourself, but not without swearing at the heavens. Does he have to maintain a certain moral code and integrity for me to allow him to trim the hedges?

As you can see, it differs with the distinctions among jobs. Where trust, honesty and fiscal responsibility come into play, considering the allegations becomes more pertinent.

So of the five people I mentioned, in order for me to maintain peace of mind, I would probably have to find a new banker, a fresh minister and request that my son have a different teacher.

It’s not because I am judgmental or inflexible–it’s just that certain occupations require quality or they diminish in value.

What, if instead of plumber or banker, I insert President of the United States?

So here is your salient moment:

Don’t accept what is unacceptable simply because everybody around you decides to accept it, so what they do will be considered more acceptable.

 

Donate ButtonThe producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

Dear Man/Dear Woman: A Noteworthy Conversation … December 17th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3158)

Dear Man Dear Woman

Man: I do enjoy talking with you.

 

Woman: Me, too…except I would love to start seeing some things change instead of just lamenting how they are.

 

Man: Where would you start?

 

Woman: I think I would start by exposing the dangers of the “religion of romance.”

 

Man: What an interesting phrase. The religion of romance. What is that exactly?

 

Woman: It’s over-emphasizing the pleasure of sexuality between men and women, leaving out the greater benefits we have for each other.

 

Man: Which would be…?

 

Woman: Men and women are both controlling and conniving. It’s the weakness of the human race. We don’t learn to address these two vices when we’re children, living in a house with Mom and Dad, or even when we hang around people of our same sex. Because there is so much controlling and conniving put into romance, it is an excellent opportunity to expose that troublesome two, and in the process, become better human beings.

 

Man: I see. So you think that because we focus so much on sexual intercourse, we never allow our relationship to mature, to be the give-and-take of discovery.

 

Woman: Not only that–because we characterize romance as “sexiness,” when that begins to die down, we feel we have lost something. Then we go out and find other lovers to ignite the memories.

 

Man: Meanwhile, we have a mortgage and children through our initial flame, which have to be distributed as “goods” when we decide we’re not right for each other anymore.

 

Woman: It’s one of the few things that the religious and secular communities agree on–they feel romance should be hot, scintillating and so strong that we can’t keep our hands off each other.

 

Man: It’s so foolish when you think about it. Sex obviously won’t stay at level ten, so there needs to be a transition to something deeper. But since romance centers on our genitals instead of our brain, we lose faith in each other and start looking for that “necking session in the back seat of the car” from high school.

 

Woman: It isn’t like maturing a relationship is not absolutely dazzling. Having someone who challenges you on your controlling nature, or who doesn’t put up with the shit of your lies, is a gift from God. But if you’re afraid you’ll lose your bedroom magic, you may play the game and end up losing.

 

Man: So what would you suggest to get this thing started?

 

Woman: I think we should make fun of the overwrought plots in movies and television that focus on the physical aspects of love instead of the complete package. I would be so thrilled to see two mature human beings of the opposite sex talking about this issue in candor as a plot for a movie.

 

Man: So to overcome the “religion of romance,” we have to really prove that sex is not a god.

 

Woman: Very good. Because we worship sex. We sacrifice at the altar of carnal relationships. And we end up mistreating each other when the fire turns into a cozy sensation of security instead of a torrid affair.

 

Man: This is really interesting.

 

Woman: I know. It’s great to talk about. But here’s the truth. As a human, I will be controlling and conniving unless I have a long-standing relationship with someone who refuses to let me be ridiculous.

 

Donate Button

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity


Don’t let another Christmas season go by without owning Jonathan’s book of Christmas stories

Mr. Kringle’s Tales …26 Stories ‘Til Christmas

Only $5.99 plus $1.25 shipping and handling!

An advent calendar of stories, designed to enchant readers of all ages

“Quite literally the best Christmas stories I have ever read.” — Arthur Holland, Shelby, North Carolina

Only $5.99 plus $1.25 shipping and handling.

"Buy

 

 

Kissing … January 19, 2013

(1,765)

kissing lipsWhat’s the hurry?

After all, one of life’s greatest joys is finding oneself in a moment of pleasure and lingering there as long as possible instead of racing on to the next item on the agenda. May I refer to it as singular sensations?

I recently caught myself planning an evening and determining the quality of the experience ahead by how many different possibilities and adventures I could line up in a row. You know what I mean–“we’re going out to dinner, then get in the car, drive to the movie theater, catch a flick, have some popcorn and then trail out for coffee afterwards with friends to discuss the feature we just viewed, closing off with returning home and …”

Get my drift? There are so many singular sensations in that plan of action that could be savored, but will be rushed through to get to the next experience, which may or may not be equally as fulfilling, but certainly will also be abandoned in order to stay on schedule. We have become a nation completely adept at planning fun–and never having it.

Nowhere is this more obvious to me than in the realm of kissing. When I watch a movie nowadays and two people meet and fall in love, they go through a few shenanigans to acquaint themselves with one another and then they kiss, leading to a cutaway shot to a bedroom sometime later, letting us know that the single kiss LEAPED into an evening of sexual intercourse.

Am I the only person who remembers how satisfying, fulfilling and terrifying kissing can be? Here is a positive aspect to abstinence–it does teach us to stop and enjoy the beauty of kissing. There is probably no other physical action between two human beings that universally expresses emotion and intimacy like kissing. Not even the sex act itself offers the same package of potential. Because candidly, sex can be very bland or even uninvited. But kissing is the cohesion of two wills at the same moment, to mesh agreeing purposes.

Does anyone remember the warmth of the breath of another human being just prior to making lip contact? How about the fragrance of the breath when you are so relieved to discover that your partner is not forbidding further contact? Can you recall when the lips meet for the first time–the moist tenderness of discovering that the pair on your face is making the pair on the other face sublimely pleased?

If the goal of every kiss is to end up in bed having sex, it is no wonder that our species is becoming bored. It’s like saying that every dinner must be followed by a movie, a cup of coffee, a discussion and, let’s say, sorting the laundry. Soon no one would ever want to have dinner.

I have never seen two people kissing who are prepared to argue, hurt each other, manipulate one another or cheat. It’s time for each of us to return to the power of the singular sensation–and linger there for a long moment to enjoy instead of rushing off into other pursuits.

I will no longer plan more than one event at a time. I will refuse to move on until I have drunken deeply of the cup of possibility. And I will never again in my life hurry through a kiss because I think it’s just a way to get something else.

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

<span>%d</span> bloggers like this: