Tagged: Christianity

Watch and Wait

The only thing left to do before the results are declared is watch and wait.

Specifically, we’re watching for the dems to start crafting the inevitable “why we lost” narrative. This is no different than when watching a sports championship and the time is ticking down and the announcers become more cognizant that it is not time to keep saying, “There’s a chance!”, but instead time to say, “It’s looks like it’s gonna take more than…”

Everyone is too self-aware that the internet is forever to keep up the charade until the very end. The end was a long time back. Now we watch and wait.

“So You Wasted Your Vote”

I didn’t get to conclude my, “I wrote in a candidate, which by the way is not as simple as you may think-” before my acquaintance dismally uttered, “So you wasted your vote.”

Just like that, I found myself neutered. The man behind the knife was Puerto Rican, incidentally, and didn’t seem to be in the mood to let the joke pass without consequence (which I have to say the joke has gotten funnier with age—go watch it again if you need a pick-me-up). This means he isn’t voting for Trump either.

But I didn’t take away his manhood when I learned his position. So I count that as indicative of my winning the moral moment.

This post is ultimately about the meaninglessness of all our ballots and the meaningfulness of right action. But first I want to record, for posterity, how a write-in vote works.

  1. There are only specific candidates who can be inked in. These folks had to essentially apply for the opportunity and you can google your state to see the options. (I may actually run one year. Seems like a bucket list thing to me.)
  2. In Colorado, the law says you have to write in the last name of both the president and vice-president for the vote to count. (I believe the full names would be fine, too. But the space is limited, and since this is mostly an exercise in futility, let’s not draw it out.) So be sure to read the instructions on write-in voting in full.
  3. Here’s my ballot.

Okay. Back to the debate. Just about everyone on the continent tells me that I wasted my vote. I contend that I did not waste my vote in any sense different than you “wasted” yours. And I counter that it is foolish to believe that if you vote for Trump or Harris you have somehow not wasted your vote, somehow spoken in a more effective language. Or contributed to democracy or the country more than me. Or you have accomplished some civic duty, which I have not.

No, no, no. That’s wrong.

Don’t hear me suggest “fatalism”. I do not dryly believe “what’s going to happen is going to happen.” Please do hear me when I say your actions during this one, seemingly absolutely critical moment in time do not weigh more than your actions during all the other moments. I think I mean this in the biblical sense, introduced by the psalmist and highlighted by my namesake, “one day is like a thousand years, a thousand years like one day.” In short, all our votes are wasted because the notion of voting necessarily implies an incorrect perspective on life—even the life of a country.

Another way to talk about this point of mine that I here offer is to reminisce about the “How did we get here?” question that is terribly fun to debate.

I have yet to hear anyone suggest we got here because of folks’ past voting records (here being these two candidates, after the last two, after the last two, ad infinitum). Instead, the answers given are more provocative. “Education” (or lack thereof). “Immigration.” “Wars.” “Immorality.” “Russia” (meaning anywhere from the theory they have intentionally and strategically taken over the universities to the direct influence on elections). And many, many others. “Welfare.” “Military Industrial Complex.” “End times.” “Democracies only last 250 years, give or take.” Bluntly, then, I mean that if we do not cite our past votes in our answers to “how we got here?”, how could our votes ever be “how we achieve” whatever goal (political or otherwise) towards which we aim?

In the end, no, by writing in, I did not waste my vote any more than you did, you who chose one of the two candidates who possess a proper chance at winning. (Trump has it in the bag, never forget that.) So dismount your high horse, Citizen, and rest assured that in the not too distant future I will be lounging like a tree near streams of water with the knowledge that I didn’t let myself get caught up in the hype anymore than I did for Black Jesus (or Bush or Biden…).

This election is another referendum on how you (we) live your life. It should be interpreted as yet another instance of divine compassion. We’re mucking things up for sure down here. But Voting for Trump or Harris (or anyone) does not change your character. And believing that it does betrays a fundamental flaw in your understanding of life.

Vote or don’t vote, I don’t care. But I do care that you shape up. Turn off the TV. Use the newfound free time to exercise your mind, body, and spirit. The battle rages.

A Little Time Means A Lot Of Focus and Politics is Personal

As election day draws near, I cannot deny that my resolve not to vote for Trump began to waiver. Colorado is solidly blue, so a Trump vote would certainly be a wasted vote. Still, I was starting to feel like it would be fun to tell the grandkids that I was part of the unforeseen popular majority.

As I voted today, I just couldn’t do it. And with time running out, the underlying reason finally surfaced. (I don’t know why I didn’t see this happening; it always does. We veterans prefer working under pressure for the clarity it brings.)

The reason I can’t vote for Trump is because I can’t vote for Republicans. The Republicans were in power during 9/11. They had a chance to accomplish what no humans have yet accomplished, and they blew it—including wasting my time and energy by sending me to Iraq in response.

9/11 should have been used to relegate the false god Allah to the myths and legends section of libraries and bookstores. And the only way to do that is make supporting him deadly—which can be done directly or indirectly, but with intention, nonetheless. So many gods have perished. This shouldn’t be controversial. Instead, and unconscionably, the supposedly great Republican party* decided to lie and wage irrelevant (and illegal) wars under the guise of satisfying all interested players and offending no one.

So, no, I won’t buy into the same system that made that category mistake. Nations are okay, but gods are where the action is at.

Anyhow, I know my opinion is unpopular. So it’s not like I expected to find some candidate who wanted to lead and win the coming Holy War. But I also can’t vote for people who have had the opportunity to do so and dropped the ball. So I found the rules for write-in votes (you can’t just vote for anyone) and there is some random unaffiliated and normal looking citizen that satisfied the requirements for Colorado’s ballot and I voted for him. In other words, literally any average citizen is better than Trump/Harris and the major (and minor) parties. His name is Chris Garrity. Best of luck, man.

In short, with time drawing to a close, I have just now realized that, for me, politics is personal.

*To be clear, the Dems would have done no different.

The Preacher Said, “Joy Cometh in the Morning” in Today’s Service. Was It Code Today?

This morning was my last morning with the Black Baptists before the election. (I work next Sunday.) Going in, I was curious what kind of political talk we’d hear. For the past several Sundays, the gist was always “Trump bad,” but never quite “Kamala good.” And Baptist preachers wouldn’t be Baptist preachers if they didn’t say, “Vote!”

Today’s service had two political moments. The first occurred way before the sermon, during a fairly random reading of a Black History Experience. I don’t recall the exact words, but I remember smiling as the lady said something about how important this election was.

I thought, “Hype!! It’s all hype. She’s a sucker. No different than at this Super Bowl or during these playoffs ‘we are witnessing something never before seen!’ It’s all hype. Don’t fall for it.”

The second moment requires a brief reminder. There are many sayings or scriptures or proverbs which the Black Baptists all around the country utter at least once during each Sunday service. “But early, EARLY Sunday morning…” is one. Another is, “God loves…a cheerful giver.” A third is, “You can’t out-give God.” Another is, “He woke you up this morning!” Another is, “As the old saints used to say…”

The one in question, and behind this post is, “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.”

Seriously. If a woman who has seen five or more decades and survived at least one round of cancer doesn’t say this into a microphone, with perfect timing and emphasis on “But Joy!!…comes in the morning,” then you weren’t at a Baptist church.

Today, however, the sermon was essentially a Stephen-esque recounting of all it took for Moses to strike the rock rather than speak to it. Then, as the capstone, she delivered the somehow never-tired, “Remember, weeping may endure for a night,” (wait for it) “But JOY comes in the morning.”

It was code. It was so clearly code. “Vote Kamala—the candidate of JOY. And stop worrying. The LORD won’t let him win.” Had she said it at any other time in the story, I wouldn’t have even noticed it. But it was delivered with an ever-so-slightly-out-of-place force, an ever-so-slight amount of “indulge me, Saints” that I am certain it was meant as a Gilead-made balm to the community.

My aforementioned Ethiopian wife didn’t see it that way.

What do you think?


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Kamala Is Not A Grandma

The politically incorrect trolls are having a field day with Kamala’s “as a parent” response. People or bots are correctly pointing out that she is not a parent, but their implied reason is invalid.

Kamala Harris has no children of her own, and she met her step-children when they were 15 & 19 (or thereabouts). But CNN’s question was about the last 4 years, which means while the step-children were 21-25 and 26-30 years old. And Kamala was 56-60.

There’s more. The whole “make mistakes while parenting” is relatable when you and your children are young. If Donald Trump, while 70 and Barron 10, delivered the quip, it may produce laughs, but it still wouldn’t accomplish the purpose Kamala sought the other night.

But all of this is missing the bigger point.

This woman is 60 yrs old. That makes her twenty plus years into being capable of being a grandma and she is suggesting she is a mom making mistakes. The lie she told is her age, not her family status.

Donald Trump, the most misogynistic presidential candidate in recent history, is going to beat the first two women candidates, and why? Because Kamala lied about her age. Why? Because she’s a woman and lives in reality after all.

Media’s Paradox

What if they start suggesting that the polls indicate Trump will win, and then Trump were to lose?

This, my fellow Americans, is why you don’t lie.

They lied for so long, that now, they cannot see a way to recover their integrity.

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Up next, I am going to answer the age old question about the task of diagramming sentences, “Why do we have to learn this?”

The Spark

I’m not saying it will ignite what seems inconceivable—a full and prolonged civil war—but I am saying it will light a proper insurrection.

The spark is going to be a widely attended and publicized funeral.

When the time comes, the funeral, and its attendant crowds, will be the event and day and time that ordinary citizens, and not-so-ordinary citizens, will violently enflame the tinderbox of MAGA vs. DNC incivility. Stay home.

Yes, I have been reading Les Misérables. Yes, I got the idea directly from it. No, I do not think the situation in America is anything like 1832 Paris. But we all can feel that more escalation and more outrageous events await.

It’s my blog. There is a thrill to making measurable predictions. Don’t steal my joy! And before you get your panties in a bunch, just admit that, sadly, you know I am right on this one.

Nothing Surprises

It’s all hype. There are no surprises.

I really want to say something about the content of Jack Smith’s “motion for immunity determinations”, but the truth is that the only thing that bothers me about it is that it is being hyped as “October Surprise!” I’m bothered because it isn’t a surprise! In fact, nothing surprises.

Nothing surprised because the news cycle is not 24/7, the cycle is perpetual. In fact, there is no cycle anymore. Also, there are no journalists. Instead, there are varying levels of paid hype-snitches.

We are suckers when we insist that there is such a thing as news and journalists. There used to be news and journalists. But today there are only empty forms. There is no substance. Something new is occurring, some new kind of communication. And the way to keep the upper hand, the way to stay true to yourself, is to admit it. And then train yourself to be as discerning as possible.

Example:

“October surprise! October surprise!” says the news.

You think, “Next!”

Got it?

On Musk’s Hype, On Authoritylessness, and On Homeschool; Or Marriage Advice from Pete

This gets old for me, but I am happy to do it. Here goes: Don’t believe the hype! Even when the world’s richest man is behind the hype, it is still hype. Do not believe it.

The world isn’t at some precarious moment. Democracy/America isn’t at a precipice. Do not believe the hype.

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A friend and I who were in college (super small liberal arts college) together and had the pleasure of seeing Clarence Thomas speak were discussing the smear campaign the other day. Today my friend sent some WSJ op/ed about it. Let me be clear: there is no “authority” anymore. There is no news organization who can clear a name, nor one who can condemn a name. They have all lost all respect, and consequently lost all authority. You’re all suckers if you believe any of them or believe in any of them.

****

I have wanted to homeschool my children for around a decade now. First, my 14 yr old, H-. And now my two toddlers, A- and J-. Divorce ended the first marriage. And this second marriage is to an Ethiopian who quite literally cannot imagine homeschool. I didn’t quite think through the profound ignorance regarding the field of education which Ethiopians have when I married her, but even had I laid out the entire plan, I am certain she would have been agreeable until she changed her mind—like every other woman.

The charter school my step-son just enrolled in (pretty sure affirmative action on some level got him in) is actually one of the good ones—ie has a “classics” education. And so while I still believe homeschool—by me, for my kids—would best set them up for success in life, I can also see that in some twist of fate, the two toddlers will be able to easily bypass all normal gate guards into the desirable charter school since their “black” (not really, but whites can’t tell the difference) brother already attends.

When I mentioned this somewhat change of heart to my wife she was ecstatic. She was most ecstatic, I was most sad.

I bring things the kids into the world and all anyone wants to do is take them from me. I lose my first daughter to the first, worst person I have ever met. And now, even when I have met a regular woman and married her and made babies with her, she cannot wait to give them away to strangers. It’s fucking messed up. And makes me sad. I have this goofy schedule where I am home every other week for the entire week. In other words, I am gone half the year for work. The flip-side is I am home, no work, half the year. If the kids are in school full-time, the amazing schedule I have is of no value. And it actually is a shitty schedule because now I am gone half the year and additionally miss my kids while I am home.

I didn’t have kids to be alone. I had kids to raise kids. Fuck. It is not that complicated. Why else would anyone have kids?

With everything we are watching in the news, with every event from the bullshit pandemic (can’t be worldwide if most of the world is too stupid to know it is sick with a new disease), to the wars, to the election, to the faggots, to those who want to let children cut off their dicks, to the childless cat ladies who think they should have a say regarding someone else’s kids’ education, to the women who want to kill their children, I just wouldn’t have guessed there was anyone still around who thinks, “less time with our children” is the answer. I just wouldn’t have guessed the selfishness (get the kids away from me so I can shop!) and belief in groupthink had spread to all corners of the globe.

So here’s the lesson, for any young readers. Selfishness is everywhere because selfishness is childish. It is immature. Don’t be selfish. And don’t marry selfish people.

Groupthink is everywhere because groupthink is childish. It is immature. Think for yourself. And don’t marry people who can’t think for themselves.