Friday, 05 July 2019

(It's Leanan sídhe's day!)



     I apologize for being so scarce lately, but I'm currently working 60-hour weeks, while also trying to take advantage of the warmer weather, whenever it isn't raining, that is, to get some sun and exercise out on our wonderful bike paths. (I rode 50 miles yesterday, and hope to beat that by another 10 miles tomorrow, the furthest I've ridden since a 100km ride I participated in back in 1985.)
     Not to bore you with personal, family details, but I also have to take a moment here to explain that, on top of all that, I'd been nursing a very old (19 years?), and very ill cat, my puddy-tat, Pazzo Bambino Amore (crazy baby love). No. I didn't name him that. We didn't name him that. My sister-in-law named him that. (I would have named him Scramble, for his propensity for scrambling around the house at 2 AM for no apparent reason.)


Unusually, not Gabi, this time, but Marlina.

     You see, my dear kitty, herewith eulogized, was a rescue. Of sorts. My social-justice-warrier, and animal rights fanatic s-i-l, having finally found a rich husband, ditched her poor cat, Pazzo, with her roommate, Kim Murphy. Then Kim found her man, and needed to get rid of Pazzo, too. My wife offered to take him in, and I acceded. He was already 4 years old then, maybe even older, but he quickly moved in and adapted to something completely new to him: A house full of kids.
     My daughter, Gabi, still missing her herd of 13 cats in Idaho Falls, took to Pazzo immediately. We have many pictures of him in her arms. He would even sleep with her. And Pazzo loved little more than to just be in the same room with the whole family, especially when we were chatting and laughing. But, time passes. The kids grew, spent ever less time at home, and Pazzo aged. I was working at home, about that time, so he gradually decided that my lap was his faworite place in the world.


     And, thus, we became almost inseparable.
     Except, when, as my career has so often required of me, I had to work, not only outside our home, but even far from home.
     It was good that we moved the family down here to Indy. Pazzo had been missing me, having not seen me for two years, and was beginning to grow ill, but, once here, he was able to have the whole family together quite a bit for a few months before the kids finally went off to school. Even before they left, he'd taken up residence in my room, on my bed, and would frequently come to me while working, wanting me to pick him up, and scratch his head. But, eventually, he couldn't even bear to have me hold him long, which clearly frustrated him. Even at night, whereas my chest had long been his favorite bed, sleeping there all night long, a couple of months ago, he moved to my feet instead.
     Last week, though, having slowly lost the ability to move, or even eat, my buddy breathed his last, as I stood by, and stroked his fur for as long as he could bear. He lifted his little gray head one last time, looked right at me, let out one of those soft little mewls, laid his head back down, and moved no more.
     Pazzo had been in our lives, in my life longer than any other pet. And I hope to see him again, too, one day.

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     But, finally, there's this: Something I heard recently really shook me up. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, especially where, and from whom. And I've been wrestling with it ever since.
     I'm forced to reexamine my priorities. I'm compelled to repent. From the perspective of ministering, these pages are clearly not the best use of my time. I'm going to have to spend less time here, and more time on my epistles, not that they will help much, but I have to try. So, I'm going to cut back here, but just cut back. But I can't promise that I won't stop it altogether. What I can promise, is that I'll get those long-languishing articles written. I must. Clearly, the simplest terms, like love and charity, are just not comprehended any more. And, to be fair, having looked over the material available to us, no one ... no one ... does a very good job of explaining things for us. No one does an adequate job connecting the dots for us. Many of these things must be dug from the scriptures like ore. I get that. And not everyone is Joseph Smith, or even Hugh Nibley. I get that, too. But that's no excuse for living on a diet of milk. Or less. And that's creating an environment where people are just teaching each other the wildest and most insane things you could imagine, proving just how it is that what we once believed almost impossible, that we'd eventually call darkness light, and light darkness, can actually happen. I'm witnessing that now. And, not only that, but I'm seeing the very elect deceived.
     Now, before you take me to task on that, yes, I know. They are not the 'elect'. Yes. I know what it means to be 'elect'. And they are not. Most likely, you are not. Neither am I. But, what you have to understand is that, they don't know that. And that's part of the problem. Too many people think they can't be deceived. Too few even wonder whether they're going down the wrong road.

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I hope you all had a good 4th.

     May it not be our last.


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And that's no baseless fear.

     At 0:59 ... The major media wouldn't even cover the national 4th of July celebration?! And even accused the President of self-aggrandization for doing just as previous Presidents have done?! Have you ever heard of such a thing? Did they actually ignore it? Can anyone tell me? Is this for real?
     At 9:55 we learn that some nut popped up on 8-chan to issue some threats against POTUS, but the Secret Service responded. Just in case you didn't know what kinds of people hang out on 8-chan.
     Worse still, at 12:30, we hear that Jeb Bush felt it appropriate to take advantage of the day to issue (tweet) a reminder of the former Presidents who've died on the 4th of July. And you thought he just looked stupid.
     Not to worry, though, because the Secret Service also had a reminder that they are ever vigilant.


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And ... What?!

     At 10:30, we hear how yet another tech giant founder is involved in human trafficking, and how all this bad news about people we once admired is preparing the minds of the people to accept even worse news about even bigger fish.
     Once again, at 19:03, we hear Jeb Bush felt projecting.
     Not to worry, though, because the Secret Service also had a reminder that they are ever vigilant.


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And then there's this:


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Has RBG really finally resurfaced?


     In a word: No. This is just more media-industrial complex sleight-of-hand.

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God of Storms

     Remember me telling you how some weather can't be tracked by radar sweeping across the land because it just appears out of nowhere, actually having originated outside the planet? Well, at 1:33, you can see an example of that very thing happening. And notice the electrical effects. This is absolutely solar in origin, and related to the stream referred to from 0:19 - 0:38. I'm kind of surprised Ben doesn't connect those dots, but, then, he does tend to assume a lot of knowledge on our parts.


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OUCH!

     Yes. Scotty brings bare-knuckled honesty, and not just about Lee Iococca.


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Finally, for something really bizarre and impossible.


     Although, these days, I wouldn't be suprised to learn that the Nazis have been on the dark side of the moon all these years.


~~ Marcus Aurelius ~~