Imagine the Mystery

    Just for one moment – imagine putting the pieces together, each one, everyone where they belong. Just for one moment – imagine that your son has known something other than a constant state of war his entire life. Just for one moment, one shining glorious moment – imagine the kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven.

    We are cracked down the middle, drifting half-finished in a fog of days, and weeks, and months, and years.

    This world, as it is, is not all that there is, not all that it could be. Not by a half.

    But here is the shape of our distress: we remember yesterday’s murder while we wait for tomorrow’s mercy. It is a mystery. A shock and a mystery. Inexplicable. Indecipherable. Malice scattered abroad and anger gathered together. The mystery of wickedness at work here as it ever was.

    Restraint removed. Unchecked. By the courts, by Congress, by common decency.

    With counterfeit American miracles and signs and wonders. Winning. Every wicked deception. A constant stream of lies. Lawlessness wraps himself in a flag; the rallying crowds embrace him and cheer for more.

    I do not understand it. It is a mystery but no surprise. They will not accept a love of truth. Strong drink with delusion. Believe what is false and be condemned.

    But imagine… A God who loves.

    Without exhaustion or self-pity. Without resignation. Imagine

2 Thessalonians 2:9-13

This Was No Mystery

    We have, in this last hour, this latest hour of perpetual crisis, one conflict after another, come to realize that we have not escaped, cannot escape the horrors of our own making. We are reluctant to go outside. There are NRON QSR lighter than airships hovering over abandoned apartments. Cameras mounted at the intersection to record suspicious loitering. Looking for people and cars out of place. Significance surveillance determines the meaning of our interactions.

    Opened seals and broken deals. A suffering trumpet. Dividing the times and polarizing the populace. We are the prime recipients of a collective malicious ignorance. The little horn spy has an effective vision. The vibration in my heel is an implanted tracking device.

    Observed by reporters. Reported to the police. Uniformed antagonism and the eyes of a man speaking lies. Changing the times. Redrawing the map to reframe his ego without any of the finer virtues of kindness, gentleness, and mercy.

    Why do you marvel? This was no mystery. It wasn’t a matter of inaccurate predictive history. We saw it coming. You’ve heard that the Antichrist is coming. But he’s already here. Now. With many varied reflections. A third of the country has followed a third of the stars swept out of heaven. We called it out. Hoping for the world to calm down. Look! Look! Look!

    But we were shouted down.

1 John 2:18

Filled to Full with Seven Abominations

    You know the man, you know how he seethes and burns from the inside, though he occasionally masks it with a smile and smooth words. You know the malevolence within.

    - an old-man’s lust for a young girl’s flesh, his fingers in her hair, on her skin

    - a black-hearted scorn for people of color coming up from “shithole” countries. He calls them vermin. He calls them dogs

    - a gleeful delight as he imagines his enemies imprisoned. Tortured. He is concupiscent for their screams

    - a blasphemy of the ego. I don’t need to be forgiven. Don’t bring God into this

    - a vainglorious pretension grasping for power and money. I am a king to be adored, a god to be revered

    - a never-ending torrent of worthless lies. He lies with every breath

    - a predator’s hands splashed with blood

    Do not trust him, even when he grins for the camera; his unctuous heart is filled to full with seven abominations.

Proverbs 26:24-25

White House Promises

    “Looks like rain,” said the man standing next to me as he sniffed the air. But, born and raised in the Midwest, I knew better. When the sky’s red and overcast in the morning, I know it will be storming soon. I know clouds in the west are for rain and wind from the south is hot. But this is neither.

    There were news cameras from all the major outlets, with a clear title and clean report. Cleared for the press corps by presidential aides, gathered on the lawn with their anchors prepping and primping in the ringlight. And me, taking notes for my forthcoming book – Misgoverned Houses and an Inheritance of Wind. No one would read it, of course. But the words must be written. Fame is better than gold, I am told. But I have neither.

    Meanwhile, dangling high for the cameras to see, was history in the making. A sentimental moment for salesmen without an ounce of self-denial. Salesmen with asymmetrical smiles, chewing the carpet. Explaining the complexities of imported mining exports and residual dividend transfers. Drilling holes for natural gas and paying off companies to not build renewables.

    The president was there. He was, of course, primarily concerned with conducting personal business under the presidential seal. Leaving a trail of unmarked graves and unexamined bodies. You know what they say about the pretensions of White Horse promises – conquering and to conquer the world. Only I can fix it... 

    And the press conference began. Flashbulbs and shouting. Can we ask about:

    Affordable health care?
    Reduction of the national debt?
    Lower grocery prices?
    Lower gas prices?
    Lower energy bills?
    Stimulus check? DOGE check?
    Greenland, Canada, Venezuela?
    Where are we with Iran?

    Over the intercom, a response, “No. No. Not yet.”

    “Is everything okay?”

    “No. Put that man out. Revoke his credentials. Put those questions aside - there are tourists exploding on the mall. We are as polite as overwhelming anger. All you weak reporters. Lazy. Failing.”

    “Looks like rain,” said the man standing next to me as he sniffed the air but you know what they say - White House promises are heavy clouds and wind, but no rain.

Proverbs 25:14

A MAGA Manifesto

    The following was sent to our newsroom with a demand that it be published immediately – without redaction. We’ve chosen to publish it – with minor edits. Though the letter was received unsigned, we trust the reader will understand who they are. We publish it reluctantly, fully aware of the danger of giving such voices a platform – but aware, also, of the danger in ignoring those voices.

    Christ has no saints other than us. Believe it.

    We will have no further need for evidence, for facts, citations, or documents. We have the all-vulgarity we need. And the abuse, you absolute dumbass. Your own mother would have flushed you if she had half a thought. [Further vulgarities redacted].

    We have the administrative machinery to enforce our will. We will determine the order. We will determine the times and the seasons – and, with forged timecards and behavioral inconsistency, change them. Trust the unrepentant liar, convicted fraud, serial adulterer. He will show us the way through this liberal hoax.

    The physical deformity of your eyes, like a disease. You don’t even know. How can you hear? Deaf angels will not hear your prayers. The tongue of the Lord is loosed, and the infant of days will die. Your mainline apostate churches will be burned. A host of heaven destruction. An ashtray mountain. A severed ecclesiastical head. Call it a necessary rectification. And pray that we don’t come too soon.

    We will live long upon the land – this land. Our land. We will not die. We will not lose. Not in the midterm elections. Not in this present age. The AntiChrist will Christ against the Church. This is how you will know. Our glorified bodies – real and physical – not subject to death. Without doctors. Without scientists. Not beholden to laws. A special knowledge through quantum faith entanglement. Being able to vanish and appear at will, not limited by physical matter, defying gravity for upward movement, moving from earth to heaven with speed of thought.

    Follow the straight-line blessing of the Old Testament to true-patriot Americanism. The Muslim idolater, the soft, the fornicator, all the socialist institutions of higher learning are drunk with the blood of the martyrs. [Ethnic and abelist slurs redacted] But not for very much longer. We are coming for you. Believe it.

Folding Chairs and Fiery Thrones

    It was late January, on a gray and dying afternoon some years ago, when I found myself in front of the Ebenezer Baptist church building. I was tired and cold, looking for a place to warm up and rest my legs. I’m not sure what compelled me to try the door. I was surprised to find it unlocked.

    I went inside and called out, “Hello? Anyone here?”

    From somewhere in the back of the building, I heard a voice answer. “Back here. In the fellowship hall.” So, I followed the voice.

    In the fellowship hall I saw someone I assumed to be the janitor setting up rows of bright orange folding chairs. “I just came in to get warm,” I said. He nodded and placed another chair. From the kitchen, just off the fellowship hall, I could hear the gurgle of a coffee pot brewing.

    “What are you setting up for?”

    “It’s not for me to say, really. But you’re welcome to watch,” he said and then left the room.

    I found a spot along the back wall where I could stand, next to a bookshelf filled with hymnals and children’s books. I waited but nothing happened for several minutes. So I let myself into the kitchen, found a ceramic mug and poured myself a cup of coffee. Then I took my spot by the bookshelf to continue waiting.

    After a few more minutes the fluorescent lights overhead flickered and the coffee maker in the kitchen hissed. The door of the fellowship hall opened and the Senior Pastor entered. I knew it was the Senior Pastor because his framed photo was hanging on the wall next to the bookshelf. He had a dignified look – silver hair, manicured beard. He was dressed in a white seersucker suit. He sat down in one of the orange folding chairs at the front of the room. Then the doors opened again, and the church elders came in with folders, and papers, and clipboards, and notebooks. They assumed their seats and the church board meeting was called to order.

    I felt a hand on my shoulder and jumped. “Watch this,” said the janitor behind me. “You’ll like this.”

    From somewhere beyond the hall, I began to hear shouting. Curses. Vulgarities in a vaguely New York accent.

    “Old business,” one of the elders announced. “New business,” another said.

    “The same business,” the janitor whispered behind me.

    “I don’t know who you radical-left thugs are. Vermin. But you’re going to regret this. Nasty women. Losers. Scum. You’re animals. Animals. Animals!”

    The voice was dragged through the doors. and I saw his orange skin and flyaway hair. “Who is this?” I asked the janitor.

    “Oh, him? He’s nobody, really. Just one of a long line of monsters horning their way into history. They’re always turning up.”

    “What’s going to happen to him?” I asked.

    “Watch.”

    I turned back to the board meeting. The Senior Pastor said, “The mouth has spoken. Have his words been recorded?”

    “They have,” announced the body of elders.

    “So be it,” declared the Senior Pastor.

    “Amen,” intoned the body of elders.

    And just like that the orange-skinned vulgarian went up in flames.

    “What the hell is this?” I nearly shouted, turning back to the janitor.

    He led me over to a tripod stand with a series of Bible maps. “Look here,” he said and pulled down a map of Egypt. Then another of Babylon. And Persia. And Greece. And Rome. And. And. And. One map after another after another. “This is the way of beasts and empires. They receive a lease of life for a season and a time, but then…” And he tore away the successive maps and threw them to the floor.

    “Do you understand this?” he asked me.

    “I don’t think I do,” I said. “Not yet.”

    “Have you finished your coffee?” he asked. I nodded and he took the mug from my hands.

    I don’t remember leaving the fellowship hall, but I found myself once again standing in the sidewalk snow and slush in the fading January sun.

Prophecy Cub Minutes 07.16.26

 

Prophecy Club
06.16.26
7:34 pm
First Bethel Baptist Church Basement

ATTENDANCE
Present Members: Brothers Haggai, Joel, Daniel, Jonah, Ezekiel, Micah and Agabus
Guests Present: There were no guests.
There was a quorum present.

ORDERS OF BUSINESS

The meeting opened with our standard invocation: “Open our eyes that we may see wonderful things in your law.” Open our eyes now, Lord. Amen.

The minutes of the previous meeting were read and entered into the record.

Unfinished Business

No unfinished business was conducted in order to allow extra time for Brother Joel’s special presentation.

New Business

Brother Joel was invited to give a special presentation for the 250^th anniversary of the United States of America concerning the USA’s role in biblical prophecy and the last days.

He began by informing us that the Curse of the Admiralty Law (pronounced in 1871) is being undone by President Trump, and that we are returning to the Common Law of the Land. The people of the nation have given their consent with shouting and festival and music, and that the required rituals have been observed by royalty as required. King Charles III and Queen Camilla observed the transfer of power during their visit earlier this year.

Brother Joel also reported that while the United States is not explicitly named by any of the biblical prophets, the USA does have a specific and important role to play in future events. He told us that the “Great Eagle” seen in John’s vision (Revelation 12) is none other than the US. It is obvious, he said. The eagle is the national emblem of the country. And that the United States will swoop in to rescue the woman (who is Israel) from the pursuing dragon (the devil).

Brother Joel further described a relatively obscure passage from the prophet Isaiah. “Go, swift messengers to a nation tall and smooth, a people feared far and near, a mighty and aggressive nation whose country is divided by rivers.” Brother Joel stated that this description is becoming increasingly accurate every week under President Trump. Every executive order brings us closer to the end. And that the increasing accuracy of the description is indicative of the nearness of the end times. “We will soon fulfill the prophet’s words, and ‘an offering will be brought to the temple on behalf of the people tall and smooth, feared far and near, the mighty and aggressive people.” (Isaiah 18:2 and 7)

Brother Agabus asked how this could be possible since there is no Temple – and thus no sacrificial system – in Jerusalem. Vigorous and extended discussion followed until Brother Ezekiel suggested that further discussion be moved to a special committee.

Brother Ezekiel reported that he’s been informed of a rival prophecy club meeting at the Assemblies of God church on Water Street. He has no further details, but he’s sure that they are “covered in filthy vomit.” Brother Jonah promised to investigate.

CLOSING

Brother Joel led us in the closing prayer: Lord, You are our refuge and fortress. Guard our hearts and minds. Protect us from demonic attack, physical harm, and emotional wounds. Keep us safe in the shadow of Your wings. Amen.

We will hold the next board meeting on 08.16.26 at 6:16 pm. The meeting will be a top-secret Strategy Briefing. The password will be: Watchman! Watchman! What time of night? And the countersign will be: Morning is coming, and night again. Do not share with nonmembers.

The meeting ended at 1:17 am

[Signatures of minute taker and board president]

The MAGA Glossolalia

    This is a companion piece to No Revelation, No Knowledge, built from the same scaffold — 1 Corinthians 14, the same Paul passage about tongues and intelligibility and the failure of speech to communicate — but they're doing completely opposite things with it.

    No Revelation, No Knowledge is introverted and devastated. The speaker is alone with one person who has stopped listening. The tongue is a failure. The unintelligibility is a wound — meaning hidden from the one person in the world it needs to reach, the simplest possible words spoken into the same silence as ten thousand unknown ones.

    They share the same diagnosis, one delivered as exposure, one as confession. The same theology. Different rooms.   

The MAGA Glossolalia

 I know what you’re hearing. People are saying that there are many forms of activity and there are, so much going on, our country is hot. This is a great time. Our country is hot. I hate to say it, but I will. A year ago, a year and a half ago, two years ago, the last administration, we were a dead country. But there are many forms of activity. And many gifts, right? Tremendous gifts. Gifts no one has ever seen before. The gift of utterance expressing wisdom. Wisdom. I know wisdom. So wise. The gift of tongues, different tongues, all kinds of, you know, English, and Russian, and Chinese, and Iranian, all kinds of languages. And the interpretation of tongues. We have people who can translate them all. So good. So great.

    And, and listen. I, if the trumpet sounds – you know the trumpet, sound a call which is unrecognizable, who will be ready for the attack. You saw that in China just recently. You saw that in Venezuela. You saw that right now in Iran. Everything’s gone. Their Navy’s gone. Air Force – gone. And we are speaking their language. Barbarous tongues for barbarians. Inarticulate heathens.

    And you know, in the world, you’ve got the hypocrisy of the vocal. The liberal left and the fake-news media, they’re all saying stuff about me. Terrible stuff. Just terrible. They look you in the face and lie. Just straight up lie. So when the transgressors are come to the full they’ll get theirs. Look me in the face. I’m fierce. And maybe you can understand their dark sentences.

    But not them. They won’t understand. The so-called intellectuals don’t understand, I mean I speak it plain. I tell you what it is. The truth. And they don’t get it. They can’t, they just can’t comprehend. Other people, the meaning is hidden.

    No revelation. No knowledge. No prophecy. No instruction.

    You’re not strangers. You’re Americans. We’re not just raving. If I have to use strange words, then I’ll speak with strange words to this nation. The tongue of mystery. I have all the best words. Now there are some really brilliant people here today. I’m maybe slightly more brilliant. But don’t feel guilty about it. You should never feel guilty about success. You don’t need to repent here. These are words spoken with no interpretation.

Gravemouth

    “A life so perfect! A life so free!”

    Gravemouth was born with a bifurcated tongue and lives a life of toxic lies. Nodding off now. Downing caffeine-based beverages to stay awake all night. With headaches, heartburn, twitch and slur. Aggressively high blood pressure. Gravemouth is cognitive decline.

    “The AntiAmircan Dumocrats hate me!”

    History deep and dull must be warped, distorted, and denied for Gravemouth to keep control. He becomes increasingly chauvinistic under intense criticism.

    “Shut up, Piggy. Bitch!”

    Overbearing and boorish. Angry and harsh. Just another child of God in the Christian MAGAnation. Using abusive language with the staff. Screaming at subordinates. Quick tempered and harsh.

    “They were off message. Now they’re unemployed! This will be the defining measure of success or failure in my administration. Loyalty or I’ll put you in the wood-chipper myself!”

    Gravemouth is the perpetual bully. A domineering bulge. Blind, indifferent, embittered. At war with the world.

    “I know we’d be there for them. I don’t know that they’d be there for us with all of the money we expend, with all of the blood, sweat and tears… They’re not there for us. I can tell you. You can’t trust them. And if you can’t trust them, you beat them.”

    Plagiarism. Crudeness. Egoism and an unseemly consolidation of power. He is a vulgarity born of burn out. Disintegration. Standing and falling apart. Burn down the office. Gravemouth will burn the world to eat the ashes.

The Articles of Faith of Trump Brand Christianity

    1 – The Trumpet of God is the trumpet of faith, true and living. Thank you, President Trump, harmonious in power, just in wisdom, empathy, love, and truth.

    2 – No subscription, no price. A pure estate Printed free. Your deposit will not be returned.

    3 – We believe we are a chosen people, of a favored nation, on these blessed shores unto salvation and eternal life. Particular and unconditional. America first and amen.

    4 – Utterly depraved with no desire for freedom. Failed and fell, our desire is to be deceived. Nothing is less expensive. No one is safer. We voted for this.

    5 – This is our obligation to good works. Appearing and disappearing from our reality dimension, a new faith. Forever cursed by law though the courts are on our side. To change the laws and times and seasons is our reward.

    6 – Power is for control. Power is for external and internal use only. These are the ordinances of the church. Immersion is the only mode and none but those who have been baptized thus are to be admitted. DHS will determine if deportation is warranted.

    7 – We are stubborn and obdurate. Everlasting to everlasting without question, without doubt, without turning, without treason. Humiliating hopefuls and rivals alike. The perfect ticket has little to offer.

    8 – Who are the vulnerable? What systems of injustice? The punishment for resistance and dismantling initiatives will be swift and eternal. Federal ecclesiastical authority is clear.

    9 – The Scriptures are best preserved in the only authorized King James Version, fully licensed and endorsed with the Presidential Seal, embossed in gold. This is how to govern in full faith and practice.

    10 – The Great and final days will come with the full weight of the American military. Thrust and counter-thrust. Strike and counter-strike. The righteous will live in America forever. The unjust will be crushed with iron and sold to recoup our losses. A regency of fear forever. Amen.

Yeehaw for the GOP (a song)

Here's a low-fi recording of a goofy little song I wrote as I was out and about the past couple of days. I hope you'll like it. 

You’ll go to war with everyone, you’re ready to invade
bombing schools and burning mosques is how this game is played.
Burn the oil, blot out the sun make it darker everyday
it’s the end of time, the final reel and Jesus is on his way.

Take advice from fools and cross against the lights
you’re just a graveyard bully who’s pickin’ another fight.
You deliberately misunderstand the doctrine that you claim
Everything you touch turns into another round of shame

Yeehaw for the GOP
for God and country.
Yeehaw for the GOP
Ain’t that somethin’
Fox News lovin’
modern Know Nothin’s
God’s Own Party, yessiree.

You don’t want the immigrant, the woman, or the gays
You only want the schools where the teachers bow to pray
Dismiss the prophets, malign the mystics these books you’ll never read
ignorance is the way to your nationalistic creed.

Lincoln’s party has devolved from what it used to be
I remember how you sang, “Let us die to set men free.” 
Building prisons, camps, and jails, and all of them for profit,
Deregulation is your way to bigger bank deposits.

Yeehaw for the GOP
for God and country.
Yeehaw for the GOP
Ain’t that somethin’
Fox News lovin’
modern Know Nothin’s
God’s Own Party, yessiree.

Jesus ain’t no Democrat, I know this to be true
but how could anyone see the Lord above when they look at you?
Mister Rodgers was a Republican, a man I could respect.
If more of you were more like him, I’d hug and kiss your necks.

Yeehaw for the GOP
for God and country.
Yeehaw for the GOP
Ain’t that somethin’
Fox News lovin’
modern Know Nothin’s
God’s Own Party, yessiree.

Now For War

    Now an apocalypse of our own making.
    Now an apocalypse we can use.

    We are bombing schools for the cause of Christ
    And the Christ, Inc. shareholders approve
            (but deeply regret the inevitable, but very necessary, tragedy)
    of bombing hospitals.

    Appointed, anointed
    and the self-aggrandizement
            of worms who are not men
    to light the signal fires in Iran
    to cause Armageddon
            explosive encounters
    to mark the return of Jesus
            false face actor of a
            grotesque eschatology,

    crude bones unsubstantiated
    and the groping swagger
            of insatiable egos
    flaunting the marks of its colors

    burn gold, silver, and precious oil
    your greater condemnation
            revealed in fire

    the Earth groans murder
    under the villainies of your theology
    the fires of signal men shriek faster
    and strip flames from the doors of hell.

    Now for war.

A Daily Resistance - February 9, 2026

    Take these unresolved fragments: 

     I’m writing – but who’s reading? Singing, but who’s listening? And will it be remembered?

    Have you seen the news today? Have you heard the reports of an estimated 200,000 women, pregnant with Iranian infants, children – bayoneted, suffering tormented, demented attacks, buried alive with gouged out eyes? Stripped and kidnapped of political power. Deplorable American worship. Naming it thus was always justified.

    Is it vanity to want to be remembered? To make a mark? To leave a legacy?
    Is it vanity to want to be recognized? To matter?

    An uncontrolled psychosis far from normality – still too close to the moon. Beneath the shadow of this failed republic. The violent fragments of American cities explode and fling themselves into the fire.

    In a hundred years who will remember my name?
    In fifty – who will care?

    Have you seen the news? Autospeak machines that speak of wars and secret empires. Speak of a superior race and the toxic price of infrastructure.

    I am lost in the smoke and haze. I am swallowed up and lost in the chaos of our times. Swallowed up and devoured along with the great mass of women, children, and men. All consumed. All forgotten.

    Trumpet radio announcement vile screeds. Shackling perversity to God’s own firepower Repudiate his racism or stand with him condemned. Stick out your chest and raise your chin. We see you. We know.

    Still – I am writing.
    Still – I am singing.

A Daily Resistance – February 3, 2026

    What do we read in the news today? What word? What progress?

    Suspect. Defendant. Convict.
    Without a glance. Without a document.
    Without evidence. Without proof.
    The vivid memory of the cycles of violence
                                        and future cataclysm.

    Nothing changes. Nothing moves. The victors’ fortunes rise while their victims disappear into the hysterical foam of seething waters.

    Shriveled dogs gorged on the blood of murderers and the right purse and proper accounts. Mired in the base exchange of insults and orders. We were warned of deception and of injury. Jesus prophesied of compromised conquerors. The day finally comes.

    Christian shadows moving to the rhythms and tempos of accelerating drums. Faster. Laughing. Faith. Obedience. Ragged obedience to brawlers’ boasts. They are but blind slaves to willful ignorance.

    The wartime pounding of nationalists drums. You saw the changes – in North Africa, and the Middle East, entire suburbs of Eastern Europe. South America and the Caribbean within our hands. You have seen them – delinquent and drunk with wine. Impotent. Incontinent kings and pundit gladiators, pain and blood – manifestly inadequate for their supposed manifest destiny.

    Do not be distracted by the unholy trinity: racism, militarism, materialism – those brilliant baubles, dazzling lights in the sky. I’m asking about the survivors. You tell the story but ignore the facts.

    Close your drugged up eyes
    sleep just long enough to wake up
    somewhere else
    never wake up whole
    never wake up home.

A Daily Resistance – January 30, 2026

    Chunks of filthy ice that look like crows at the side of the road.
    Hunks of stone that once were human hearts.
    A rude rumble of thunder in a snow gray sky.

    The old order will not be returning. Do not mourn for it. It was never noble. It was never great. Leaving the world and its resources to benefit a privileged few. Sacrificing justice to further enrich the already wealthy. Crowd house upon house while the two thirds world goes unhomed. Starve the world and laugh.

    No more monsters in the dark.
    Masked agents of anarchy disguised as law and order.
    Christian nationalists in an exaggerated Jesus Christ pose.

    Volatility and alarm bells. Satanic politicians of every stripe stalking from the shadows of the financial sector. No healing. No health. It doesn’t matter. None of it. Empires rise and fall. Every one and all. Crash and ash. But what will rise? More of the same?

    Toxic tear gas in sleeping neighborhoods.
    Smashed school windows and obscenities.
    Zip-tied children taken away.

    Why should we be beaten anymore? Why persist in this rebellion? The whole head is injured, the heart afflicted. From the sole of the foot to the top of the head there is no soundness—only wounds and welts and open bloody sores, not cleansed or bandaged or soothed.

    We could be better but who would believe the message?
    Men and women of sorrows – will not hide our faces.
    We will open our mouths.

Isaiah 53

A Daily Resistance – January 28, 2026

    Time is faster here, closer now, and principles are passé these days. Unwanted baggage. There’s no sense in staying within the lines. There is no rule of law. No order. No procedure. Precept upon precept? Please… Line upon line?

    Listen -

    Criticism is the crime now. Dissent is depravity. We have a moral obligation to stand here. To stand against.

    Listen to him - “I’m going to get what’s mine. And you, you are going to get what’s coming to you. Keep your cameras down. Keep your recorders off. We have the death card, Ace of Spades, to leave on your car, on your corpse, on your windshield, on your widow.”

    Listen – “The raised voice will be erased. No more questions. No more complications. There is nothing to say. Nothing to know.”

    They will loose the radical. They will fire another round and lose the receipts. Just watch.

Isaiah 28:13

A Daily Resistance – January 27, 2026

     Here’s a thought – unorthodox to be sure, heretical maybe. At this point I’m not sure it matters.

    Maybe God should allow all these fine MAGA folks a chance to return to the Garden of Eden – let them have another shot with the Tree of the Knowledge, another bite of that apple because they can no longer distinguish between good and evil.

    But, comes the objection, doesn’t that come with the threat of death? This is a fair objection and I will answer it. Yeah, I suppose it does. Eh… so what? They’re already dead on the inside anyway.

A Daily Resistance – January 26, 2026

    Here it is – they double down on half pay. Here it is – they double down on double cross. They lie and hold for commercial. Another lie and pause for laughs. We understand but will not speak the language of monsters and masters.

    Words spoken over our heads, words aimed at our life, our liberty, our peace. Threats and intimidation. Believe and submit. A chill in the mind. Cold wind. Cruel words. A silence of voice. A bound mouth. Submit and disperse. Unarmed agitators and sidewalk citizens will be shot. You saw nothing. You believe what you’re told. Break down your obedience.

    Or face the hose. Or we let slip the imperial dogs. Flick the baton, snap the whip. Burn the city down – we will rule the ash.

    If you see the oppression of the poor and record the denial of justice in the province, in the state, in the city – do not be shocked at the sight. One official watches over another. Checks and balances and regulating authority. There are higher officials over them all – and none of them care.

    The words of the preacher are wrenched from the word. Wretched now. Worthless vanity. Worthless and void. “Blessed are the Peacemakers” becomes the recruitment campaign for the Department of War. Propaganda is truth.

    We are watching not waiting. Wanting not wasting.

A Daily Resistance – January 25, 2026

    There are six things the Lord hates. Make it seven detestables. Deplorables.

    Haughty eyes.

    You’ve heard it yourself – the tone, the shrill, the shriek. You know the smug dynamic tough guy vibes. You know him – the American Vulgarian brandishing his piety like a goddamn hammer. The governing authority without credibility. Zero.

    A lying tongue.

    Wicked. Perverse. Depraved in front of the cameras of the White House press room

    Hands that shed innocent blood.

    I’ve had enough of staring down the line. Jumping impossible hurdles. I’ve had enough of the barrel and the bullet. A funeral test. A failure trial. These are debts that can never be repaid.

    A heart that devises wicked schemes.

    Another Midwest shooting. Another state sponsored murder. Another extrajudicial execution on a Minnesota street. Antinomian disregard. No jurisprudence. No moral law.

    Feet quick to rush into the evil of the American nightmare

    Your absurdities have become atrocities. Another every day. Without regret. Without remorse. You delight in the cruelty. Pleasure in our pain.

    A false witness pouring out lies one after another as if we didn’t see the videos ourselves.

    Jesus said “blessed are the peacemakers” – but this is not you. You are lawlessness and chaos. You are death and destruction. Without a profession of doubt you’ll never realize your mistake.

    A person who stirs up conflict in the community.

    Don’t ask for reverence. Give me no more confessions of faith. I no longer believe.

(Proverbs 6: 16-19)

Welcome to the New Year (song recording)

 I wrote this song yesterday as I was carrying mail and packages along my route. I made a low-fi, basement recording of it today after church. 

Welcome to the new year with old woes
fighting again with old friends and new foes
midnight terror rocket blast
all the horrors of the past
continuing