The Shadow of Cain, Reflected in the Mirror

It’s against human nature to point out our own flaws. No one really wants to take Jesus’ advice and remove the logs from our own eyes, so we can see clearly to remove the specks from our neighbors’ eyes.

Sarcasm, snark and mockery are the hallmarks of my generation, and over the years -sad to say- I’ve become a master of all three. I throw stones from inside my own glass house all the time. Sometimes the best way to try to cope with a broken and messed up world is to find the humor in it.

Hypocrisy runs deep through the fabric of humanity. It’s funny when stupidity happens to someone else but we are just as stupid- even though the stupidity may take a different form.

I have to admit that no matter what I do my image is shot through with the shadow of Cain. I plot revenge against my enemies (even if I don’t have the means or the heart to carry out said revenge,) and I have to admit I have a certain sense of schaudenfreude when those I perceive to be assholes and/or idiots get theirs. I shouldn’t enjoy it, but I do. Too much…which is not at all like Jesus, Who warned us that we risk the fires of hell whenever we call our neighbor a fool- even if he or she is one.

Confession doesn’t come naturally to the sons and daughters of Cain. Our instinct is to put on our fig leaves and attempt to cover up our wickedness with our own self-righteous justifications. As flawed as we are, we still want to play the merit system- and we want to believe that God grades on the curve.

No one is worthy before God on their own merit.

In spite of what I do, or more likely fail to do, I still come to the table like Isaiah in Isaiah 6, the man of unclean lips, a filthy, disgusting piece of nastiness in the sight of a perfect, holy God.  The shadow of Cain is shot through me completely and I can’t fix it or wash it out.

The only merit earned in God’s merit system is a merit earned outside of us, a merit bought and paid for by the blood of Jesus Christ.

Even so, we all try to justify ourselves like the Pharisee in the temple.

“At least I’m not doing that.

“I go to church every Sunday.”

“I give to the church and contribute to Christian education.”

Very well. As you should.

But…

No matter what I do my good works are as Isaiah describes in Isaiah 64:5-6. The ESV uses the polite term “polluted garment,” but the original Hebrew of this text isn’t quite so nice. The actual reference would be more like a used tampon or a bloody maxi pad. Something unspeakably nasty, and those are the good things I try to do.

I am thankful that even someone like me- a sinner who has no right to stand before my holy God has been invited to His table. His fiery coal burns the evil from my lips. He removes my guilt. He gives me His clean garment as a gift.

I still live in the shadow of Cain until the day when my Lord sees fit to call me home. But He forgives my sins. He heals my diseases and is fitting me for life in His Kingdom.

Feminism Fail: We Were Sold a Bill of Rotten Goods

Pennywise has become a uterus?!

I grew up in the 70s and came of age in the 80s.  I was a child of the media, apathy and societal laissez-faire- and of parents who were poor and had to work a lot more than they should have.

Even growing up in a backwater town that was 20 years behind the times didn’t help much. I still wanted to dress like the dancers on Soul Train and was convinced someday I would be a super combo of the women in the Virginia Slims and the Enjoli ads.

Oh yeah. Not.
Green is so not my color. I am just thankful I quit smoking before my lungs turned black.

The church wasn’t a whole lot of help. The RCC had jettisoned much of its traditional practices and teachings so we got mixed messages from them. I learned more about Jesus and the grace of God from the rare trips I got to Sunday School in Grandma’s Regular Baptist church than from the confused version of Catholicism taught at that time. In the RCC’s defense they are more true to the Scriptures than most Protestants today, but that’s not saying much.

The 80s were a free for all both in culture and institutionalized religion. And it’s all downhill from there.

For a woman of my generation I was conservative politically and socially, but liberalism and militant feminism had their bad influences on me.

I used overwork like some people use opiates. To stay numb. To have perceived value. I didn’t need a man. I certainly didn’t want to stay home and raise kids. I wanted to be important and in control. And I had no choice because neither my first nor second husbands were good providers.

I thought once my son was born the most important thing was for me to get back to work and earn money, not to pay personal one- on-one attention to his education and well-being. I could not have afforded being a stay at home mother financially anyway, as my husband at the time was more about blowing money drinking and gambling than providing.

I was sold a bill of rotten goods. And I was gullible enough to buy it.

I bought a bill of rotten goods that caused me to fail my son by denying him the nurture and education from a present and caring mother. It was a bill of rotten goods that led to two failed marriages to beta males who needed mommies and enablers rather than wives. It was a bill of rotten goods that reaped years of exhaustion, depression and despair.

I couldn’t be the Enjoli woman or the sexy Soul Train dancer. I became just a burned out, depleted, depressed middle aged crone.

The natural order is good. It is made by God for our benefit. Men and women were made to complement and complete each other, not to compete.

One man and one woman marriage was instituted by God not just for the procreation and nurture of children but for the good of society. Men are called to provide and women are called to nurture and teach our children.

For Christians our lives are not our own. We have been bought with the price of the sacrificed Lamb of God, Who has paid for our sins and Who sustains us into eternal life.

I’ve always said that my life serves more as a warning than an example to follow. My life can show one what NOT to do.

Women, find a real man. A man who belongs to Christ. A man who supports and loves you. Marry young and have as many children as the Lord will give you. Cherish your husband, love and respect him. Give him a home.

As far as the cologne commercial, the cigarettes, and the obsession with overwork and militant bodily autonomy, let those things go. We were created for better than this.

Singing Dirges in the Dark, a Sober Realization, and Trying Not to Let the Bastard Win

I was a weird child. One of the first songs I ever memorized -and played over and over again- was Don McLean’s “American Pie.” Even a three year old who reads the dictionary is going to have a tough time with the historical references and metaphor in that song.

So, a dirge. Try explaining to a three year old what a dirge is when said three year old has never really seen death or mourning or loss. I may not have understood the meaning of a dirge then, but I get it all too well now.

This morning I had one of those lightning bolt sort of feelings that I am going to die abandoned and alone. My son, who opposed my marriage and hasn’t spoken to me in three years, could give two shits less whether I live or die. I don’t regret marrying Bruce, far from it, but my son simply can’t process the thought of his mother being in a non abusive relationship. He also didn’t appreciate Bruce reminding him of some of the liberties he has taken with his mother’s resources. I will leave that thought there.

The bottom line will ultimately be: Guess I gotta sing my own dirge.

There’s an odd comfort in that even though I can still go along with Dylan Thomas and his entreaty to go raging against the dying of the light.

I’m not dead yet, but in some ways I feel dead. Many doors are permanently closed and I need to be OK with that.

The world is different once the dirge is sung. 

The Coronation of Queen Kamala, and More Inanity and Shenanigans to Follow

The actual hyena is smarter.

I underestimated the depraved Democrat party yet again. I have been careful not to refer to her as Heels-Up Harris on FB, because that got my sarcastic ass shut down for a week. I guess telling the truth hurt somebody’s wittle feewing. So I use the emojis- 👠👠⬆️.  So far no one has caught on.

Democrats are vindictive and petty, but not always bright. It takes a certain lack of critical thinking ability to be a Marxist.

Yeah, it smells like B.O. again.

The problem with Democrat strategists – the puppeteers who have their hands up the politicians’ posteriors and are going through the motions- is they know what evil and mayhem they foment. They are the ones who take Alinsky’s Rules for Radicals to heart. Kamala’s only talent, besides perhaps polishing knobs, is to laugh uncontrollably like a hyena. That’s one step beyond Slow Joe. Unless of course, she poops her pants too.

Perhaps she needs some for heavy duty BS-
Then again the Dirty Dems are no strangers to selling shit!

The puppets aren’t the source of the problem. They are merely the scapegoats for the meltdown their handlers are trying like hell to create. That’s why Biden became disposable when they couldn’t hide his dementia any longer.

Karl Marx would be soooo proud!

The key to totalitarian governance is the concentration of power into the hands of a privileged few at the expense of the many. Ever wonder why Democrats don’t want fair elections? Why do they welcome foreign interference? Because they don’t want angry taxpayers to derail their gravy train.

The lack of critical thinking and the lack of historical knowledge will be the downfall of this nation.

Turn off the mainstream media. Learn from history.

Before it’s too late, and it just might be.

Finding Joy, Hotter Than Satan’s Taint, and More Devolution and Depravity

Why do I bother to question just how low humanity is capable of falling ?

I know that political extremism can lead to rash acts, and that dysfunctional behavior occurs on both sides of the fence. There are squirrels on both sides.

Ideology can and does become so polarized that it gets difficult to find common ground. 

Anyone who knows me, even a little, knows I lean to the right and I don’t have much use for or respect for the radical left’s political policies. Communism and socialism are failed systems. The politicians who promote these systems for their own personal gain are accountable for their failures. Rogue assassinations are not viable responses to political opposition.

If you’re right, you have to take the high road, and the Democrat machine has taken the low road since the days of Woodrow Wilson, if not before.

And it’s not just the Clintons.

I pray for President Trump. Not because I see him as some sort of savior or even an arbiter of Christian morality.  We elect leaders, not pastors.  The standards for the governance of the left hand kingdom are not the same as those of the right hand kingdom. Luther was very clear on the differences in the roles of the church and the state.

God has therefore ordained two regiment(s): the spiritual which by the Holy Spirit produces Christians and pious folk under Christ, and the secular which restrains un-Christian and evil folk, so that they are obliged to keep outward peace, albeit by no merit of their own

— Martin Luther

While my faith cannot embrace the outright evil that the far left promotes, it also is informed enough to know that I am not voting for a theocracy. Societal order and the preservation of life and peace are the aims of the left hand kingdom. In this country the right and right leaning legislators are more on the side of maintaining law and order and working toward a peaceful society, though not perfectly. The spread of the Gospel is the work of the church. Don’t confuse your president with your Pastor.

This being said, it’s too hot. Nasty, sticky Ohio humidity that reeks of bugs and BO hot.

Bobby and everyone- except the Parka People.

The Parka People, you know who you are. The weirdo who is wandering down the sidewalk and it’s 90° with 100% humidity and you are wearing a hoodie with sweatpants and those tan-yellow work boots. The old lady with the North Face Parka and gloves on trying to navigate the frozen section of Kroger- in high summer.

Now here I am hoping and praying the Gold Bond will prevent chafing and stave off general sogginess and swamp ass as I wear a modest summer dress in a somewhat air-conditioned office.  The Parka Person I work with wears a heavy fleece jacket and runs a damned space heater under the desk like it’s the Blizzard of ’78 or something.

It’s 72° in here. WTF. And this chick is about the size of Shamu, i.e. about three of me, but neither as attractive nor intelligent. Ich verstehe nicht.

Joy is where you find it, and I need to improve my attitude.

Dogs improve my attitude.

The Fourteen Seasons of Ohio Weather: You Are Here- Satan is Farting In Our General Direction!

Hot, humid. and smells like used Taco Bell.

Did I mention I hate hot weather? At least over half of the year in Ohio involves cold and damp or cold and frozen. Those are easy to navigate because you can keep putting on clothes.

Heat sucks because there is only so much clothing one can safely remove. Even in the privacy of home behind closed doors, when you’re stark naked and still sweating like a whore in church, there’s not much more you can do.

At least I am doing better than right after my hysterectomy. I literally had the AC turned down to 59° – and was still dripping with sweat and tempted to sit in the freezer.

Blue does not care.

I am not sure what possessed me to get a heeler puppy last year. Blue is now a year old. (born 6-4-23) He was 10th out of a litter of 10, and the runt. The vet tech (who I have known 30+ years) laughed her ass off when I called to schedule him for a well check and the last of his puppy shots. Being a rural practice, and many of their customers are sheep farmers, they are very familiar with heelers, and heelers are not their favorite patients.

“You do know heelers are a handful, right?” She giggled about this. She breeds Rottweilers, and compared to heelers, they have a really mellow personality.

I replied, “But I have a Catahoula, and I know you remember Clara- the Malinois.”

“Oh, yeah. If you can hang with a Mal, you can take a heeler easy.”

I think the characterization of heelers, (or more accurately, Australian Cattle Dogs) as “miniature redneck Malinois” is pretty accurate.

Blue is a sweet boy. He will always be on the small side for a heeler- 35# and he’s likely done growing. He’s always active, always in motion, but not as serious as a Mal. He likes people and other dogs. And there is a hell of a mind behind those so brown they’re almost black eyes. 

Dogs make me happy. People, most of the time, not so much.

This is my attitude toward a disturbingly large swath of humanity.

Plus ça Change, Plus C’est la Même Chose- Except for the Scenery

I don’t remember much from high school French, other than the old saying that the more things change, the more things stay the same. Maybe if our illustrious French teacher, Mme. Novatny, could have gone out to smoke fewer than 3 Virginia Slim Menthol 120s per 45 minute class period, I might have learned more French in three years than je m’ennuie tellement. (I am so bored.) Apparently the Gen X ennui wasn’t confined to the Marion Harding Class of ’86. We were exemplary at it, but we didn’t realize it was a generational trait. We were told there was something wrong with just us.

Fast forward 38 years, and the ennui remains. For me, so does the depression and the sense of being deprived. Our heritage and history were stolen.

We lived the fall of the 20th century, just as we were coming of age. In 1983, as we were cranking up the Frontiers album and Steve Perry reminded us that all the heroes have gone east of Eden, we were in a very real sense being banished from the utopian idealism of the modern age.

We weren’t born with silver spoons in our mouths. We were thrown outside to fend for ourselves while Mom locked the screen door and turned up the TV.

We were born in the fallout of the end of a golden age, and we were denied our own.

I struggled from the beginning- overworked, underpaid, living in constant anxiety and existential dread. Add two failed marriages, near death in childbirth, working for insane employers for 20+ years, and dealing with years of chronic pain and expensive chronic illnesses, and I am just as downtrodden and hopeless as I was in 1986. I have absolutely nothing to show for all the aggravation. I am not beautiful or wealthy or successful or well liked. Nothing has changed there.

Only now I know that all my striving wasn’t worth a damn. If I would have known where I would end up I wouldn’t have tried so hard.

Granted, I have taken more of an interest in learning a second language. I have been studying German for about three years. Ich bin müde, und hoffnungslos. Je mehr sich die Dinge ändern, desto mehr bleiben sie gleich

I cling to God. That part is different because I was so confused and cynical about spiritual things when I was younger. I honestly believe that it is by the grace of God alone that I haven’t blown my brains out. Lord knows it has been a temptation at times.

If anything my life has been an exercise in futility. Perhaps I should read Ecclesiastes again, or maybe Job. I don’t have a right to question God. It doesn’t make the futility of life make sense though.

So Where Is the Balance?

It’s hard for me to remember the last time I thought the government was worth trusting. Come to think of it, my natural inclinations go back to that old dichotomy posited by the behavioral psychologist Erik Erickson – Trust vs. Mistrust.

I don’t trust jack squat. I grew up with a bi-polar mother and a sociopathic older sister. Compound that with being a high functioning autistic with serious anxiety issues, and it’s a miracle of faith that I trust in the law of gravity. Then again, I’ve fallen down more than enough times to know that’s one law that doesn’t get broken even though my bones just might.

Of course I don’t trust the current government at any level anymore than I would trust a Taco Bell, White Castle, and boiled egg fart.

I can say this much regarding any attempt to re-hype the COVID narrative. I don’t believe the ends warranted the means- nobody uses a machine gun to kill a housefly. One, the machine gun will only inflict collateral damage. You can destroy property and kill people while the housefly goes merrily on.

Humanity has suffered various plagues since the Fall and will continue to do so. If we find the means to defeat one plague, another will rise as surely as maggots arise on roadkill.

To add insult to injury, the various COVID vaccines have proven at the least to be ineffective and at their most detrimental people are dying from the effects of the vaccines. Many of us were threatened with our livelihoods should we have chosen not to get the vaccine.

So the balance between bodily autonomy and public safety is a fine line. For there are those who scream bodily autonomy at all costs- ironically the liberal left who regards the unholy sacrifice of the unborn to Molech as a sort of anti-sacrament to their god of secular humanism simultaneously demands that one and all receive an untested and potentially lethal vaccine because “stopping the spread” is imperative to public health. What about the poison you force me to put into my body without proof of either its safety or efficacy?

I add an important aside- I have no issues with vaccines that are proven and do save lives from deadly diseases. Vaccination in general does protect personal and public health. But the COVID vaccines have been proven to be both harmful to many people and largely ineffective.

Whose bodily autonomy?

Whose health?

Certainly the health of the victims of abortion is of no concern- the aim for those unfortunate innocents is their demise.

What about those who have died and who will die from the effects of these flawed and deadly vaccines?

What about those who suffer the collateral damages of the vaccines, i.e. those with autoimmune diseases whose diseases have been drastically exacerbated by the vaccines?

I am not the only one who has experienced more- and more intense- RA flares since having the vaccines.

The take away for me is not to go along to get along. I am going to die soon enough. The government wants to kill off as many people in my age bracket as possible, especially those who don’t go along with the program.

I am not playing the game any more, especially when the “cure” is far worse and does nothing to thwart the disease.

Take your mask mandates and stick them where the sun doesn’t shine. Also it will be a cold day in hell before I take an unproven vaccination again.

Yeah I’m Gonna Rag On the Butt-End of February Again

Soulless Joe, He Don’t Know!

It’s the most dismal time of the year…again. The weather sucks here in beautiful Central Ohio especially now that the 13″ of snow is melting and it’s Dog Shit Lake in the backyard. The snowbooger grey sooty melting piles are turning in to grungy flood water and mush. A good time of year to die, except I would not want to give my death to Dictator DeWine as another death to falsely record as death from COVID.

If you die in Ohio right now, believe it, COVID will be on that death certificate even if you’re found dismembered or die in a car accident. No heart attack or cancer deaths or OD deaths here any more either. Everyone who dies in DeWine’s Ohio right now dies of the COVID by the governor’s executive order. There’s too much greasy federal money to be had that way.

14 days of “stop the spread” has turned in to forcible mask mandates, closing down schools, restaurants and bars, and random cancellations (even outdoor festivals and fairs) for almost a year now. Completely politically weaponized propaganda, (I am still far more wary of strep with my history…) but we still have people jogging. Outside. Wearing masks.

But it’s still perfectly safe to hang out in Walmart as long as you are wearing that damned face diaper. Things that make you go hmmmm?

This year’s February is even more disappointing than a normal February. We have had Obama part 3 foisted on our nation by political fiat (election fraud) and the ineptitude and wanton economic destruction of Soulless Joe is even more grating than Obama’s sniveling and pompous pontificating.

Joe only does what his handlers tell him. The not-black hyena Heels Up Harris (that term of endearment for our illegitimate vice president- although it is very true she does have a lot of experience with vice- bought me 24 hours in Facebook jail for “offensive” aka truthful speech) is the madam in charge. A woman who slept her way to the top, who was even loathed by many in her own party, is in control. I think she could be Obama in drag. If she’s not she could be.

Trust not in princes, in mortal men who cannot save. (Psalm 143:6, my paraphrase)

‘Cause if you think Joe Biden or his illegitimate presidency is anything other than a train wreck, you got another thing comin’.

God help us all.

No Apologies, Stop the Hype, and the One Human Race

american flag

Having been in the automotive industry for 30+ years, I have been conditioned to apologize for a lot of things that were never my fault. I have apologized for missed deadlines due to shippers losing parts, for techs breaking things, for jobs that were found out to be far worse than the initial estimate indicated, and so on.  I know the art of the apology very well, and I am one of those people who apologizes as a sort of knee jerk reaction. You blew up your engine because you thought you were supposed to do oil changes every 50,000 miles instead of 5,000?-  I’m sorry. Weather too hot or too wet?  – I’m sorry. Kid falls and breaks his/her leg? – I’m sorry.  It just rolls off the tongue.

I have found it necessary for my own personal integrity and honor to draw the line on making certain apologies that the Marxist controlled media is trying to shame me into making.

socialism

Here’s the truth, folks.^

I refuse to apologize for being a Christian, and more specifically a confessional Lutheran Christian. I will readily confess and ask forgiveness for my own sins to God and to those I have sinned against, but I will not apologize for my faith in Christ alone, faith alone, grace alone.  Life and hope is found in Christ alone, and if you want to shoot me for that or persecute me for stating that truth, go right ahead. I’ve already outlived my projected lifespan by about 14 years already.

I refuse to apologize for my ethnic heritage and/or the lack of melanin in my skin. My Celtic ancestors were like as not held as slaves at one time or another (see: history of Scandinavia, the British Isles, esp. Scotland, and northern Europe) and/or my Scandinavian ancestors (read: Vikings) may have held people as slaves. Big deal. I have never owned slaves. I have never been a slave (save to the power of sin, as are all humans.)

As Americans we all have the God-given rights that are spelled out in the Constitution. I don’t think it is taught correctly, if at all, any more or we would not be experiencing the rampant Marxist power grabs that some in government are perpetrating.

I am quick to use the word Marxist because Marxism is what is going on. The push toward Marxism in the United States has grown ever since the days of Woodrow Wilson.  The Allies had no stomach for finishing off Stalin after the defeat of Hitler and of Japan, which left the door open to the Cold War and for various forms of socialism, communism and full blown Marxism to take root in the world.

General George Patton was a vocal critic of Stalin and the Soviet Union, and in his eyes the war would not be finished without defeating the USSR as well as the Nazis. His suspicious death in 1945 from complications from a car accident (that he appeared to be recovering from) may indicate that there were some in American government even in the 1940s who at the very least were against the idea of defeating the Soviet Union, and at the worst were advocates of communism themselves.  While no one has proven that Patton was assassinated, his death was not only suspicious but highly advantageous to those in American government who had aligned with Stalin and who didn’t have a problem with his regime. Had Patton lived and gotten his way, perhaps the Cold War could have been avoided, and history would have been far less kind to Marxism.  Then again, if my aunt had balls she would be my uncle.  We can’t change the past, but we need to understand it and learn from it.

deaths communism

The unfortunate realities of forced collectivism- whether the ideology is fascist or Marxist- is that it ignores both human psychology and natural law.

Margaret Thatcher was quoted as saying that the problem with socialism is you eventually run out of other people’s money.

Natural law teaches us that there is always an exchange.  Nothing is free.  Someone has to pay for everything. The problem with socialism is that everyone wants the resources but doesn’t have to do anything to earn them.  What ends up happening is what happens in Orwell’s Animal Farm. Some pigs are always “more equal” than others, and the fewer people who are willing to work means there are fewer resources to be spread among more people.  This gives rise to the powerful oligarchy who has everything, while the average person is kept at their mercy.

I am not going to apologize for being a Christian. I am not going to apologize for being white- and for not buying into the whole race game to begin with, because color and ethnic origin are merely varieties of the same human race, the same species. I am also not going to apologize for being a constitutionalist and a conservative, because the representative republican system (the United States is NOT a pure democracy) the Framers outlined in the Constitution, when it is understood and properly implemented, is a far better system than Karl Marx spewed forth.

Ronald Reagan once said that a communist follows Marx and Lenin, but an anti-communist has read and understands Marx and Lenin.  On the surface their writings sound like utopia on earth, but I challenge any proponent of Marxism to dig into them and truly understand how forced collectivism steals the soul of humanity and leads to death, destruction and suffering on a vast scale.  Read the Communist Manifesto.  Study the history of the 20th century and see how many died at the hands of Lenin, Stalin and Mao Tse-Tung. This is the way that the Marxists in this country- read: Democratic Party- want it.  They want to ditch the Constitution in favor of a failed system that does not work to preserve their own comfy oligarchy, just like Marx, Lenin and Mao.

I understand I am old, especially considering my history of illnesses, and laundry list of health issues, and that the average lifespan for an autistic person is 37 years (somehow by the grace of God I’ve made it to 51) so if my life is over soon I really don’t care. I do care about the future of the country and I do care about the kind of world my granddaughter will have to live in.  The Great Experiment is not over, unless we allow left wing extremists to sell us a bill of goods.

As a Christian, as a human being, as an American, I pray to God that people will not buy the Marxist hype.  I pray that law and order and decency will prevail, and that we will finally stop judging each other by stupid things like the color of one’s skin. How much is it to ask of people to be peaceful, productive and to contribute to society?