As reckless authors of the media, what we are reaping is senseless acts of violence, by unstable and irrational members of a society, who are taught to fear all sorts of unlikely events. This irrational fear factor is a direct result of what the public is being exposed to, by our own irresponsible writing. For instance, I was informed, one night, that a clerk in a 7/11 would be doing alright, if only he could make it thru the night without having a meteor land on the planet and destroy everything. The authors of the media are creating this type of mass hysteria. No wonder we are experiencing a fear of a zombie apocalypse. No wonder we are living in a country which is devouring itself with road rage.
My account of the paranoid 7/11 clerk is not some figment of my imagination. A real, live 7/11 employee in Columbia, MD, said something almost identical to what I’ve said here. Sure, make fun of the way the human mind works. Go ahead. Sure, make fun of the Living God. Go ahead. You won’t ever die. There is no judgment day. You’re safe. Sure you are. Make yourselves feel better, while you propel all of us into the abyss of a destruction that only righteous men can be safely lifted out of. It can’t happen to us, after all, we’re a super power.
Didn’t the British say something like that in 1776?
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, here. Our constitution protects our right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. These truths, like the one that all men are created equal, are self evident. Then, why are there so many heroin addicts and crack addicts in this world, and in this country today? Why are there so many crystal meth cooks making zombies out of your children and your best friends these days? The reason for that is that it makes a lot of evil people a lot of money. That’s why. The reason is money, plain and simple. So, ignore my warning, and declare me mad. You won’t be the first one to do such a thing to a guy like me. It’s been going on all my life. It’s just that now I’ve amassed enough personal power that I can write like this with impunity.
Oh, that’s a good one.
That’s a challenge.
I might think you’ll want to try it.
That’ll shut me up.
Why does a prominent cable TV channel glorify the one TV show that tries to teach all of us that it doesn’t matter what we do, just so long as we have a terminal, incurable disease; which makes us immune from the basic laws of decency? Oh, we’re going to die, so it doesn’t matter anymore, what we do. Yes, it does. The constitution doesn’t guarantee us freedom from having to believe in any kind of religion. It guards us so we can choose our own religious beliefs. There’s a big difference. The central message of what this great country of ours was founded on, is a faith in God, and our righteous responsibility to defend all those throughout the world who also dare to have a faith in God.
You think I’m a Jesus Freak and a Bible Thumper?
Far from it.
Not even close.
My Higher Power still comes to me to maintain my life, whenever there are all sorts of medical reasons for me to have to die right away, that I need an immediate remedy, whether I can say so with my own mouth or not. I’ve put myself on record on FB, that I’m recovering from a very serious bladder infection, as I write this. What that means is this: that if something didn’t change dramatically for the better at one point, my kidneys would have certainly have shut down, resulting in all of my internal organs shutting down, resulting in my sudden death at my current age of 61.
I’d be gone.
I wouldn’t be writing this.
I’d be dead.
I didn’t choose to go out and become a meth cook, and blow up somebody’s car, just to get even for some silly thing. I said a prayer of thanksgiving to the One who Called my Name from the Place where Souls are Made. No, I didn’t make that phrase up myself. I cried out to the Holy One, for help, to just simply get admitted to the ICU of a hospital, which was always sending me back home again, without curing the infection. I did not understand anything that was going on. My Higher Power put righteous people in my life at that time, who made certain I got the treatment I needed to survive.
I wouldn’t have gotten all that if I was smoking crack.
I guarantee that.
No way Jose.
Something told me that I was in trouble, and I had words of Thanksgiving and Praise to the Holy One, for another opportunity to trust in Him to preserve me and keep me. It was hypothesized this afternoon that I might have a fever again tonight. The infection might have been getting more strong again tonight. Well, one of the evening shift nurses took my temperature tonight, here at assisted living, where I have the privilege to live now.
My body temperature was normal as blueberry pie tonight. You don’t want to believe in miracles until you’ve see one with your own eyes? Well, wake up, my friend. You believe first, and then you see. That’s how it works, friend. Oh, and by the way, I haven’t gone to church in years. I worship in spirit and in truth, not in some man-made structure where people say they care about you, but they really don’t. That’s not my idea of a good time.
Read more of what I’ve written, on my blog and in my stories. I’ve had every reasonable rationale to positively hate God, and all that He stands for, forever. I’ve had every earthly reason to believe God is a monster, but when it came right down to crunch time, my God exonerated himself to me, personally, in the midst of my nearly terminal confusion.
My Biblical education, and my innate fascination with scripture taught me otherwise. Whenever I am confronted by an opportunity to experience a miracle, I have enough training in what God is all about, to recognize that a miracle is what I’m being offered. That’s where my principles come from. That’s where my sense of commitment comes from. I have a responsibility to say what I say on the World Wide Web.
That’s why God is keeping me alive, when my whole body is trying to shut down. I took enough chemicals for a long enough period of time, that my body is actively trying everything it can to go into self-destruct mode, on a regular basis. I have been faithful to God’s requirement that I avoid intoxication long enough that my Higher Power helps my body to continue to function. If I do something stupid, like drink a beer, (that’s right), or smoke another cigarette, my body’s tendency to self-destruct would go into overdrive, and that would be the end of me.
Why do you write, all over FB and your blog, and all the rest of it? Is the reason just your own idea of how to make more money? Good luck, pal. Do you think you’re going to make more money by offending people who are vulnerable and impressionable in this life? Sure, kids are like that. But what of all those freaks with all those guns and bombs and whatnot. First, they watched TV, and get their minds filled with all sorts of propaganda the TV broadcasts pander about all the time, about the nature of reality. What moves that is already dead? Nothing. How do you kill what is already dead? You can’t. So, what exactly is a zombie then?
I can assure all the zombie writers that they don’t even have a clue.
So, who cares what’s real?
I was a psychotic schizophrenic so much of my life, that I care very much what’s real. I care when some guy gets wacky ideas about Hitler, or some sort of wacky idea about life after death, or some other twisted notion they first saw on the TV. After that, they try it out in the movie theatre, which has plenty of the same balderdash they put on the TV.
Then, they go out and buy our books, your books, and whatever your specific fantasy happens to be in your book, rounds out the psychosis in the lunatic. Psychosis is a detachment from the mutual experience and mutual concept of what is real to a society, as is acceptable to the majority of the populous or to the society. You are making the Uni-bomber, and the mass executioner mobilize for no apparent reason, except you’re hoping to line your pockets.
I think you should give up the project.
I’ve had enough experience with psychosis to know that you can’t just ignore it, and it will easily go away by itself. Nope. It doesn’t work like that. A possibly dangerous psychotic is more likely to go around studying ways to make weapons out of household goods, then go out and do it. Finally, the lunatic allures some sort of authority figures to go where the psychotic has placed the bombs themselves. Such people believe in what they’re doing.
That’s the problem.
What I’m saying is, please, if you want any sort of security in your own future,and that of your own future generations, think of some other thing to write about. You want to write murder mysteries, go right ahead. Some of the finest people in the world enjoy a good murder mystery every now and then. But watch how you couch the concept of reality in your writing. That’s all I’m really saying.
It’s not that I’m afraid of dying. Not at all. I’m looking forward to it. It’s just that I want there to be a world for future generations to enjoy during their lifetime, like you and I have had. See, my point is not all that bad, now is it. Let’s preserve our planet for the future generations to have to enjoy. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting that.
Think it over, please.