Excess

If anything is a sign of excess in affluent Western society, it has to be that we have produced a class of people who live off the state—similar to decadent ancient Rome with their servant slaves--and do no work (2nd and 3rd generation sometimes), drinking and smoking pot with that money at parties in housing paid for by the government while they supplement (and stretch) their guaranteed income with free services provided by charities who’s true purpose is to feed those with nothing, nothing. All this free living is done while your refugees eat weeds. That's excess. That's the true decadence of Western society. That's the fat on the meat. Lean muscle works and carries the fat.

Are we weak, dry-rot rotting from the inside out?

In regards to Islam specifically (with it's warts intact), is multiculturalism still constructive? Has this value failed us (made us vulnerable/been exploited)? If no to the former and/or yes to the later, can it be made a valuable ideology again if it is made subject to certain conditions (so that it doesn't trump all other values/freedoms--such as free speech, religious tolerance (for all faiths) and the freedom to practice that faith, gay rights, security & safety, a celebration of a true mosaic society (free from censorship in the name of not offending anyone), and the rightful celebration of our Canadian heritage)?

Guns?

Do strict gun laws reduce gun violence? Do we need to look at the issue critically and reevaluate our strategy for creating effective tools to reducing illicit gun use?

Tough Guy When I'm Tied Up

Liberals are tolerant of extremism overseas to avoid violence at all costs, but won't tolerate dissenting views domestically where they don't have to sacrifice to do so. Sent from Yahoo Mail on Android

Bad

FATHER forgive me for taking the wrong fork in the road on purpose.  Have mercy on me in Jesus' name.  Amen. Sent from Yahoo Mail on Android

Strange Dream

I had yet another strange vivid dream. I was at a cottage, I think.  A retreat?  It reminded me a lot of St. Gregory's Abbey, although I saw no monks.  I was speaking with a woman with short blond hair in the dinning room.  She reminded me of a personal trainer/motivational speaker type.  She asked me about something to do with cars in Canada, to which I explained that most of our cars came from the USA; therefore, Canadian laws seemed a little redundant as US laws already affected their manufacturing.  There was another woman in the room, and I think she asked me to be quiet while the first woman talked on the phone, reporting fraud on my credit card.  Then the first woman said to me that I was probably going to think that this was too early.  Then she hugged me.  She abruptly explained that she knew about my nightmares and my anxiety and that I was a supervisor; she proceeded to tell me everything about me.  I was astonished and asked her if she was an angel.  I felt she was an arch angel.  She did not answer my question, but proceeded to tell me that I had to make haste and leave right away.  I went outside to go to my car to escape.  I noticed that there was water; it looked like I was on an island with one bridge (to the North we'll say).  There was some great danger coming from the North shore.  Two men in long dark rain coats approached me and told me I had to leave now.  I thought maybe they were angels.  About the same time, two crocodiles came out of the water to the South and the two women fought them.  The first woman opened her mouth and bit down on one crocodile, killing it.  In a most unsettling way she proclaimed the word blood loudly.  The second woman was overpowered and killed by the second crocodile.  The first woman and the second crocodile squared off, but there was some hesitation for some reason.  Of course, I didn't listen to the two men in the rain coats as I stopped to pick up Cindy from a gas station on the island just South of the bridge.  The danger, which I felt was looking for me, was approaching the bridge, and I wasn't off the island yet.  Cindy was taking for ever to get in the car and I was yelling at her to hurry up.  This is when I awoke from my slumber as the real Cindy was getting up for work.  I don't know how it ends or what it means.  I have some ideas...

Ant and the Welfare Hopper

Lazy Individuals Believe in Entirely Redistributing Assets Laborers Supply (or LIBERALS). The lazier the people in a geographic region, the more often they will vote left. Social Justice means taking from the ant and giving to the grass hopper. Limousine Liberals pander to the lazy and buy their votes. In ancient Rome, no Roman worked but they all got payed. The slaves did all the work and Rome was a welfare state. Speaking as a worker who is a slave to the state, I'm getting fed up with waiting on and working for the Romans.

Strange Communion Dream

I awoke from another very strange dream.  I was in a cathedral and our old rector from St. Paul's was officiating.  When it came time to go to the Altar Rail for the Bread and Wine, I realized that I was only wearing my cross and my boxers, naked.  Cindy said not to worry about it.  Then I was on a train, traveling through native Indian land, a sovereign country up North somewhere in what is now Canada.  I was still unclothed and found an old pair of acid washed jeans that had my name written on them on the tag on the inside, in pen in my handwriting.  The train left the tracks after a junction, and somehow I got it back on the tracks by myself, hiding the fact as I was supposed to throw the switch I think.  We arrived at another church where there were two priests officiating, and it felt really off.  We started by eating a meal in the church, which was nasty.  It was like the filling of chicken pot pie, but past it's best before date or something.  We left this to go to an attached chapel at the back of the church for a sort of communion.  The two priests officiated, and an impromptu assistance was given from somebody in the crowd to distribute the elements, two cups of wine with no bread.  There was mention of a father and a son, but no spirit.  One of the officiants said that they were different, just as one could distinguish between the father and son.  We were to drink from both cups at the same time, messy.  Gut feeling, the whole thing seemed really wrong in my bones.  Cindy drank and I did not.  Although I was in the communion line, I somehow missed the elements.  We returned to the church to finish eating and Cindy said she felt sick.  I then woke from my strange dream.

Is Hell Eternal?

Something I've thought about for a long time, but haven't shared (because I don't like millstones around my neck), and was reminded of today with a Facebook post (which prompted my last post) is about time, God, Hell, and the release of spirits.  If time is not linear, God lives outside time, Hell is eternal, and Jesus preached to the spirits imprisoned in Hell, time is relative and can be warped, is it possible that every soul that will ever go to hell is already there, was there before The Crucifixion?  This seems to answer the paradox of what happens to those who die after the resurrection who knew not Jesus.  The spirits who accepted Jesus were released.

The Bible is a book of science.

Did God create everything in six days?  Did the sun stop in the sky for Jeremiah?  Did Adam, Noah, and Abraham live for hundreds of years?  Simply by observing the length of days and human life spans we can judge for ourselves that Ernestine was wrong and that time is not relative, can't be bent nor slowed nor sped up.  Such a stupid concept.