Oscar Party, 2018, and the winners are…

Can anyone remember who won last years Oscar for best supporting camera crew, anyone. Blank faces, the actress in the corner, (sorry actor, the word actress does not exist), her mascara is running, it’s two blocks east of the theater, running. Not even a best supporting role, she saves that for the breast implants and her plastic surgeon. Friends, she promised them a statue, nothing. Pride ways you down, and what you think your friends think of you, does the rest.

No men allowed either it seems, there is a global outcry against inappropriate sexual antics; they focus on the lowest common denominator. The politically correct audience applaud the clever comments, eye each other, as if saying,  I told you so twenty years ago.

Meanwhile, every perversion you ever thought of, is there at the click of a button. The brilliant smiles, they might last awhile till the roots go bad, sorry she says, I got a specialist for that, seriously he nods, does she actually believe all that.

Solomon encountered a strange week; the head miners were doing there thing, sowing stress or what they call, self doubt, he listens and wonders where this is coming from, as they all claim to be of God, a surprise, the stuff he heard wasn’t anywhere he looked, it only came out of their heads. But the tricks of the demons, remorseless. He saw two small faces, transform to horror, expressions he did not think possible in children. What were they like at home; the stressed mother knows all about that.


Give Me Shelter from my fears…

What was there to hang on to, what was there to worry about, she was being moved on again, the lady in the old gray coat. Her dreams were years ago she can hardly remember, but she held on as long as she was made to, then decided to throw it all out. The bags are stuffed full, she pushes the trolley, her sleeves rolled up, its not that cold, besides you get used to it, she sighs. Those arms were so smooth once she remembers, then again, so they, did any of her friends remember, hardly.

Passed on the street, she snarls under her breath, they are looking at me, she would she says to herself, as if her life was all that mattered, and it did, but that was part of the disease, she walks up the steps of the great cathedral, there is always comfort there, and all of a sudden she wakes up, reaches out her hand, and feels him beside her; just a dream he sighs as he holds her close to his side. He gave her shelter from her fears, she remembers,


Plastic Times

There is a lot of anxiety, it’s been piling up for some time, it’s called plastic, the man made creation that nature can’t breakdown, and in a disposable world it’s everywhere. Plastic, the answer to so many problems, in the beginning, now it’s choking the life out of nature, plastic. Now we have to guard against it, the misuse of it. In the beginning it seems the answer, clean, and it resulted in many ways from the lobby of the chemical industry, and the ban put on other stuff.

We are sending them to battle sir!, the colonel is having a chat with the commander in chief, and the chief scientist of the army. In previous wars they used pills to keep the soldiers awake, now they need a pill that will make them stay awake and fight. Concoctions are tried out, some work, some too aggressive, tested on prisoners, the need to get it right is essential to the war effort. So is the availability of rest and recuperation places, when the men are on leave. hey, they need to unload General, otherwise they might not want to fight anymore.

What are you doing that for, asks a young soldier, watching two buddies chase the dragon. Go on try it, it will clean you mentally and you’ll sleep like a baby. By the end of the sixties the beginning of the drug epidemic the world now enjoys seriously started. Meanwhile, places in the far east become famous for the exploitation of women and children, all on account of a war started by default, Vietnam, against an enemy they didn’t need to fight. The legacy of war, and the blood on the hands of those who made those horrific choices. (Solomon encountered divine interventions)

The bomber leaves the base, the big bomb is on board, the first bomb caused total devastation, but they are going to do it again, just to be sure the message is received.


Only human beings are capable of devising ways to destroy themselves, and the world. Fortunately, The Heavenly Father has plans for those who would dare destroy his beautiful creation. Solomon encountered the Holy Spirit, had encountered those determined to damage the Spirit. Let the schemes of the deceivers and extremists implode on themselves, and cause no harm to your people he prayed. With a single thought they could be turned into soup mentally and rendered babbling fools. If the last five years were anything to go by, there was a lot of happiness to look forward too, if only they sort the plastic out, amen, smile.


Getting Married, or where did all the years go!

marriage, they were drinking in a downtown bar, an early house. Seven in the morning, the heads were drowsy, the hangover affect, the brain slow to engage, the words just a mutter, a sigh, a fart, what a life.

“Life is a marriage!”

What do you Mean jack?

Well, the day your born your into it, and the day you die you dissolve it, isn’t that a marriage. His friends looked at him, maybe that was it. Divorce was akin to a breakdown, a RETREAT. They shake their heads, his companions. You got it wrong they say. Marriage is a relationship bond, the promise to hang together not alone on the journey. When we get carried away, children arrive and we settle down.

The same way life is a marriage, the older you get, the more becalmed you become.



Spirit filled, absorbing like sponges, a raised voice or a scream, imitating, watching, eating, excited, noisy, fairly normal bring a child; add in the extras, the gadgets, the thumbed games, the overtly sexualized world, the bias of parents, they trust them, and soon the child becomes, dispirited, like little prisoners trying to escape their world.


Rose tinted glass’s were fine to wear in the dark; in the clear light of day, the rosey hue might tint it, help the eyesight if that is the case, but when a world was rearing children in the depths of depression, it asked questions. Solomon encountered the Great Spirit, in real time, not imaginary, 100% real time proof of the existence so many wondered about. Put it this way, he wasn’t going to make a fool of himself by pretending.


The Connector

They are not soldiers you train and put into action archbishop. The young curate was risking his career, trying to explain the difficulty, the shortage of new entrants, and why it had happened. Old men don’t want to listen, unless it’s the doctor they are talking with.

In the fifties, there were processions of young men, that ran the length of a football field, men who had offered to serve the higher calling, “called” by the Spirit, the Spirit the religious orders cared for and minded as if life itself depended on it. It was years ago, the parade was now a trickle, a drip drip of water compared to the full flow; same way the Spirit had been depleted due to a whole set of factors too long to mention. The basic rule according to Solomon; you nurture the Spirit and the results will deliver. Sadly, that Spirit was squeezed out of existence almost; too many interfering influences, and too little forgiveness, just as happened to so many things, as the new takes over from the old.  Would they ever learn sighed Solomon?.

One day, was that too much to expect, one day they would get it right. The Spirit is the Holy Messenger, the one who reminds of the life to come, brings blessings, it was spoken of many times in the ancient scripture, it was told in the ancient tales, how many of us had invited angels into our homes, and the blessings they would bring with them. Today, fear rules he sighed, and it’s not unreasonable either, the threat of violence on those who suffered it, is devastating. Solomon wrote the story so often, a thousand times, get the Spirit part right, the rest is made easy. Spirit connects us, amen.


Gathering at the Table — smile calm Martin Luther King … a reblog

Originally posted Jan 26, 2013 I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit together at the table of brotherhood. -Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. On our path towards heart’s dream, journey’s value, at […]

via Gathering at the Table — smilecalm