(Update: 10/7/13, 6:26 am. Episodes 99.99% complete. Once stupid gov't reopens, I can register my copyright and self-publish the darn thing. Only took me about 14 months or so start to finish. I had an easy start because my autobigraphy's already written, so it was easy to pull the foundational scenes from that. That'll be one of my last books out.)
Here we go:
As far as I know, there only seem to be a few types of killing (let me know if there's more):
1. Self-defense. In the act of protecting one's person, property, or another, or one's country. And for that matter protecting another country, say Afghanistan against the terrorists and fanatical Taliban. (Is there any way to ameliorate their impositions on others?) We fought in Vietnam against our enemies, the communists, and in the Great Wars etc. We had enemies and the goal was to incapacitate and stop their aggression, by their soldiers and their equipment. That usually means killing other human beings. So, you could say those were forms of self-defense.
Gang shootings do not fall into this category, they are more of #2.
2. Insanity. This is tricky. Fanatics and ideologists who destroy people and property can appear rational, and speak rationally, but really they aren't. Killing another human being is not rational except for #1 above. Columbine, Aurora, Newtown and millions of others are killings by one or more insane persons. Again, except for #1, there doesn't appear to me to be any rational reason to kill another child, youth or adult human being, of any ethnic background or religious belief or nationality etc., in self-defence.
Insanity is also tricky because we have millions of Americans roaming the streets, like me, being bipolar, or psychotic or schizophrenic, who have been identified with one or more mental illnesses. I really shouldn't have access to any kind of weapon when I'm having a bipolar episode. Not a good idea.
Because then its not the "normal" Rodney Richards in control. Not at all. I don't want to take a chance I'll do something really terrible - or the worst, by harming or killing someone in my family, or in the family of man. So I'm putting you all on notice: Don't ever give or sell me a gun, under any circumstances. The end of my pool cue for self-defense is good enough -- and I actually keep one in my closet.
All suicide bombers are insane by definition, because at the very least they want to kill themselves, let alone others. That's the only way to get committed to an institution in most States; wanting to hurt yourself or others. Unless you voluntarily commit yourself. That's being smart when you feel weird. To bad there's only 100,000 beds (all overflowing), in the whole country when millions may be severely mentally ill right now. Most bad cases are in and out of jails, like the average 2,500 in Cook County jail on any given day. (Heard these stats on NPR and 60 minutes within the past three days.)
3. Crime of passion. This is really #2 on a temporary basis. Usually caused by greed or passion, or hiding a crime, thinking it will protect one's identity. There's plenty of reasons for this, usually anger, or the other extreme fear. The fear of getting caught.
4. Hunting. Killing animals or men. Sometimes we need professional hunters to wheedle down marauding deer herds in cities. And that's government controlled, as it should be, and licensed. Hunting criminals by licensed bounty hunters or police etc. is really sanctioned murder. Hence the Iraq War deck of cards, which I hope is still active, for every sane person's sake.
This could also be called premeditated murder. A plan to kill a person. Called
First degree murder in the US and elsewhere. What Lee Harvey Oswald and
Jack Ruby did, would be premeditated, although the case for either of
them could be ameliorated with insanity or crime of passion aspects. They don't have a category for stupid ideological insanity, that I know of.
5. Last and controversial, is accidental death. This does not rely on the means, for example by automobile or gun, but also by the circumstances and something called degree of guilt. Was the death from carelessness? On who's part? Or on both parties? So its tricky and should always be trialed, I think, well all murder should be, has to be, in a civil law-based society.
In the U.S. there are five degrees or classes of murder, from premeditated to involuntary. There's probably a few more major ones I'm missing, but these to me appear to be the top four.
And why do we make any moral distinctions at all? Man has been killing man for over 6,000 years, ever since it all figuratively began in the outskirts of Garden of Eden. Then came tribes, protecting each other from other nasty tribes, and so on to city-states, and states (Civil War), and country against country. And we're still in the same mode to large an extent, not realizing the 21st century calls for man's actions to catch up with his morally smart heart and brain, and laws. For the betterment of global society.
Well, sorry, I got on my soapbox, and I apologize. Nothing's ever that simple, is it? We all know war and death is inevitable right? It's only the extreme idealists and religionists that believe in Peace on Earth anymore, right? Not some of us, the materialists, secularists, agnostics and others.
Ah, someday I'll explore those questions, but right now I gotta get back to polishing and cutting Episodes. My goal is to have it on Amazon by 10/10.
by Rodney Richards
Like you, I've had many ups and downs, and quite a few sideways experiences. I firmly believe everyone should write theirs and share them, whether just for themselves or their kids. Here are some from my memoirs, observations and thoughts.
Monday, September 30, 2013
Monday, September 23, 2013
The Joy of Constitutional Conventions
I wasn't going to write any more blogs until Episodes was put to bed and available on Amazon, but I gotta take a little break. I'm on the very last edit, of five, and it's going slow scrutinizing every word, sentence and paragraph. So here it goes . . .
The first U.S. Constitutional Convention was in 1787 in Philadelphia with the founding of America by the Rule of Law. Article V allows for Amendments, and 27 have been ratified. I was very disappointed in '72 when the Equal Rights Amendment failed, as well as in '78 when the Voting Rights Amendment for my birthplace, D.C., also failed. (Wikipedia) Perfect examples of needed Amendments.
It seems self-evident to me that as decades and centuries pass, amendments are necessary for American society's health and growth. I don't simply mean "changing with the times," that's to cliche. No, States do it for themselves, like N.J. in '47 making a new one. And Article V allows it for the nation. I'm not suggesting changing our 216 year-old Charter. Modifying, updating, yes, but leaving the foundations alone.
Besides the two mentioned above that need passage, one on gun laws is long overdue. We don't have militias, we have the National Guard. As all gun owners have cried out, it's not guns that kill people, people do. That's right.
Well, there's no gun registry, so we don't know how many LEGAL guns there are, or legal owners, except for NRA past presidents and a hunter you may know. Illegal guns? Who knows. Many more. I've read estimates of between 270-300 million legal guns in America. 2012's population is almost 313 million men, women and children. So figure, how many adults in the U.S.? Census Bureau estimates 30% of pop under age 18. So 70% are adults or 219,100,000 adults who can legally buy guns, like at gun shows with no background checks.
Now, I'm mentally ill, diagnosed bipolar since '79. When manic, or depressed, suicide is a definite option and can become reality. Guns make that easy, as do car crashes or jumping off high places. So we don't outlaw cars or tall buildings, why guns? All I can tell you, being bipolar, out of my rational mind five times, once as long as nine days, well, crazy thoughts and impulses take over, some much crazier than others, like killing myself. I never wanted to commit murder, but certainly got that angry. So, how about giving me a gun? Legally no less? Or I can just buy a handgun or assault gun at Harry's Army & Navy for hundreds of dollars. Not hard to do. I'm over 18. According to NIMH, 1 in 4 adults in the U.S. have been diagnosed with some kind of mental disorder. That 26% times 219,100,000 equals 5,696,600 over the age of 18.
I think any one of those with a gun at the wrong time might cause deep trouble for themselves or for others, don't you?
Adult status is different by State, and States try to make gun laws as well as the Feds. Most laws specify punishments for assault with a weapon or murder. All too late. All after the fact. All after innocent children, teens and adult women and men are injured or dead.
So tell me, really, why is anyone opposed to gun restrictions like a registry, or background checks, or pre-qualifications?
For example, Hunters can hunt with guns, very needful in some places, like cities with overwhelming deer numbers causing accidents and deaths and Lyme's. Okay, I get it. How about a training certification beforehand? Mental health clearance? Registration? Hunting license and supervision? Like going out with a seasoned hunter the first coupla' times?
So anyway, you get the idea.
We need Amendments. All these regulations don't have to be in the Amendment, just enough for States and cities to institute restrictions and standards.
Anyway, those are the thoughts that came to me this morning.
Just one person's opinion, or is it?
You decide. Conventions and Amendments or not?
By Rodney Richards
The first U.S. Constitutional Convention was in 1787 in Philadelphia with the founding of America by the Rule of Law. Article V allows for Amendments, and 27 have been ratified. I was very disappointed in '72 when the Equal Rights Amendment failed, as well as in '78 when the Voting Rights Amendment for my birthplace, D.C., also failed. (Wikipedia) Perfect examples of needed Amendments.
It seems self-evident to me that as decades and centuries pass, amendments are necessary for American society's health and growth. I don't simply mean "changing with the times," that's to cliche. No, States do it for themselves, like N.J. in '47 making a new one. And Article V allows it for the nation. I'm not suggesting changing our 216 year-old Charter. Modifying, updating, yes, but leaving the foundations alone.
Besides the two mentioned above that need passage, one on gun laws is long overdue. We don't have militias, we have the National Guard. As all gun owners have cried out, it's not guns that kill people, people do. That's right.
Well, there's no gun registry, so we don't know how many LEGAL guns there are, or legal owners, except for NRA past presidents and a hunter you may know. Illegal guns? Who knows. Many more. I've read estimates of between 270-300 million legal guns in America. 2012's population is almost 313 million men, women and children. So figure, how many adults in the U.S.? Census Bureau estimates 30% of pop under age 18. So 70% are adults or 219,100,000 adults who can legally buy guns, like at gun shows with no background checks.
Now, I'm mentally ill, diagnosed bipolar since '79. When manic, or depressed, suicide is a definite option and can become reality. Guns make that easy, as do car crashes or jumping off high places. So we don't outlaw cars or tall buildings, why guns? All I can tell you, being bipolar, out of my rational mind five times, once as long as nine days, well, crazy thoughts and impulses take over, some much crazier than others, like killing myself. I never wanted to commit murder, but certainly got that angry. So, how about giving me a gun? Legally no less? Or I can just buy a handgun or assault gun at Harry's Army & Navy for hundreds of dollars. Not hard to do. I'm over 18. According to NIMH, 1 in 4 adults in the U.S. have been diagnosed with some kind of mental disorder. That 26% times 219,100,000 equals 5,696,600 over the age of 18.
I think any one of those with a gun at the wrong time might cause deep trouble for themselves or for others, don't you?
Adult status is different by State, and States try to make gun laws as well as the Feds. Most laws specify punishments for assault with a weapon or murder. All too late. All after the fact. All after innocent children, teens and adult women and men are injured or dead.
So tell me, really, why is anyone opposed to gun restrictions like a registry, or background checks, or pre-qualifications?
For example, Hunters can hunt with guns, very needful in some places, like cities with overwhelming deer numbers causing accidents and deaths and Lyme's. Okay, I get it. How about a training certification beforehand? Mental health clearance? Registration? Hunting license and supervision? Like going out with a seasoned hunter the first coupla' times?
So anyway, you get the idea.
We need Amendments. All these regulations don't have to be in the Amendment, just enough for States and cities to institute restrictions and standards.
Anyway, those are the thoughts that came to me this morning.
Just one person's opinion, or is it?
You decide. Conventions and Amendments or not?
By Rodney Richards
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Top 5 Signs of Bipoloar
If you didn't know by now, for all my new readers, I've been diagnosed BAD since 1979. Bipolar Affective Disorder, or "... manic-depressive disorder, or manic depression, is a mental illness classified by psychiatrists as a mood disorder." (Wikipedia) I'm classified as Bipolar I, having had one or more episodes for one day or more. My last, in '96, I left work without telling any other person or leaving any kind of
message. During that 9 day excursion I flew to London, Rome and Israel, stayed three days, and back thru Athens, then London again to Newark airport, where I had started from. It wasn't BAD for Me, but was for my family and friends. I mention it because I've spent the last 15 months writing about all this, and the normal periods in-between.
The book is called Episodes and will be on Amazon in early October.
You may find it interesting, especially if you've only known my "normal" self.
Anyway, I wanted to share the Top Five Ways My Wife Might Know I'm Having an Episode:
5. On the way to full mania, We anger easily and talk back to her. This is apparent at work or home, almost or really cursing out Our co-workers or family for infinitesimal errors, or remarks, because they're doing something different that We either wanted, or would do Ourself. This is part of the perfectionism I'm feeling. Just one early sign. And I'm very agitated.
4. Life is black & white, no gray. And We know without a doubt what's right. Everything is positive and will go Our way. Not must; that's assumed. Will Definitely Go My Way. Like suggesting to Janet we take off for Disney World in the middle of the school year.
3. "Command mode" where We speak to everyone as if We know everything (and We really do). For example, when manic Me told my cousin David I'd buy his gas station for a million dollars so David and his wife Joann could retire. We knew We could do it -- make it happen. No doubts. Already accomplished; from raising the money to running the business. All planned out in My racing mind.
2. Lack of enough sleep. For example, me doing fine, going to bed at 10 or 11, getting up just before 7. A full 8 hours. Then restless sleep. Then one hour less. Two hours, then three hours. Going to bed with Janet sleeping soundly, and at 2 a.m. We sneak out, get in Our car and drive towards the shore, flip out, and end up in jail 40 miles away. Then hospital for a month. (And I'm a lucky one -- 30% of bipolar teens and adults commit suicide.)
AQlso did you know that 60% of deaths by gun in this country are committed by those with some form of (depression or), mental illness? I heard that on NPR on the 10 am show on 9/25/13.
And the Top reason Janet knows I'm bipolar? Drum roll please . . .
1. Millions of thoughts, phrases really, without pronouns, without many adjectives or without any conjunctions, e.g.:
"Rome airport . . . Take train (to) city ... review Basilica ... Back ... Haifa." And so on. With thousands of thoughts between each one of 'em.
Racing thoughts, going much faster than normal. And they all make sense, but only to Me. And when I speak them they're not all coherent. And they're distracting, causing Me to jump from subject to new subject instantaneously, and, connect them, altho as if there's a relationship, but there really isn't.
And the whole time, whether on day one or nine days later like Me, I'm being guided -- without knowing it. I hear a Voice once in a while, directing Me. Yet I also had only one Voice in My head. And it was the royal We, I, Me, Our and Us. Oh, and I conversed with that other surreal Voice, the One.
So, enough about me. It's all in the book. How about you?
by Rodney Richards
The book is called Episodes and will be on Amazon in early October.
You may find it interesting, especially if you've only known my "normal" self.
Anyway, I wanted to share the Top Five Ways My Wife Might Know I'm Having an Episode:
5. On the way to full mania, We anger easily and talk back to her. This is apparent at work or home, almost or really cursing out Our co-workers or family for infinitesimal errors, or remarks, because they're doing something different that We either wanted, or would do Ourself. This is part of the perfectionism I'm feeling. Just one early sign. And I'm very agitated.
4. Life is black & white, no gray. And We know without a doubt what's right. Everything is positive and will go Our way. Not must; that's assumed. Will Definitely Go My Way. Like suggesting to Janet we take off for Disney World in the middle of the school year.
3. "Command mode" where We speak to everyone as if We know everything (and We really do). For example, when manic Me told my cousin David I'd buy his gas station for a million dollars so David and his wife Joann could retire. We knew We could do it -- make it happen. No doubts. Already accomplished; from raising the money to running the business. All planned out in My racing mind.
2. Lack of enough sleep. For example, me doing fine, going to bed at 10 or 11, getting up just before 7. A full 8 hours. Then restless sleep. Then one hour less. Two hours, then three hours. Going to bed with Janet sleeping soundly, and at 2 a.m. We sneak out, get in Our car and drive towards the shore, flip out, and end up in jail 40 miles away. Then hospital for a month. (And I'm a lucky one -- 30% of bipolar teens and adults commit suicide.)
AQlso did you know that 60% of deaths by gun in this country are committed by those with some form of (depression or), mental illness? I heard that on NPR on the 10 am show on 9/25/13.
And the Top reason Janet knows I'm bipolar? Drum roll please . . .
1. Millions of thoughts, phrases really, without pronouns, without many adjectives or without any conjunctions, e.g.:
"Rome airport . . . Take train (to) city ... review Basilica ... Back ... Haifa." And so on. With thousands of thoughts between each one of 'em.
Racing thoughts, going much faster than normal. And they all make sense, but only to Me. And when I speak them they're not all coherent. And they're distracting, causing Me to jump from subject to new subject instantaneously, and, connect them, altho as if there's a relationship, but there really isn't.
And the whole time, whether on day one or nine days later like Me, I'm being guided -- without knowing it. I hear a Voice once in a while, directing Me. Yet I also had only one Voice in My head. And it was the royal We, I, Me, Our and Us. Oh, and I conversed with that other surreal Voice, the One.
So, enough about me. It's all in the book. How about you?
by Rodney Richards
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
The Joys of the Next World
First, I'm lucky to have a good life, and so I prefer life much better right now than getting hit by a truck crossing the road today. Absolutely! That's what you expected me to say, right? But, I don't worry as much about what happens in the next billion years 'is all. I never functioned well out of a fear of going to hell. Well, I never had that fear. But I can visualize a heaven, and that looks much more inviting. I'm usually somewhere in between I guess. So here's my feelings why, once in a while, I think about the next world; purgatory, hell and heaven; the spiritual world; the soul's world not made for flesh.
Whew, a mouthful, but here goes:
I believe that the next world, the world of spirit, exists. Have you ever seen the movie The Seventh Sign with a beautiful and pregnant Demi Moore as the protagonist, and Jurgen Prochnow as the Angel Gabriel? I believed it, it was that real. It was really about a world of souls, the matrix, before they are conceived and born in this world. Riveting. It was somewhat based on the Seven Seals described in John's Book of Revelation, which I've read. Also riveting.
But has it already happened? Or is it happening now? (That's another blog)
My mind's not made up on whether a soul preexists, even tho I certainly believe the soul of the Manifestation (Major Prophet) does, because they must share the same soul in the same body, right? They know and repeat each others Message, for example love thy neighbor as thyself, or in these days, what seems to be needed, better than thyself. It seems it's part of every religious belief, One foretelling the Coming of the next, and I think it makes common sense. The spiritual principals are eternal, social ones change in every age.
My point is that I believe in the human soul, that each one of us has one, We choose to believe, maybe believe, or not believe. Totally our choice. Like every single thing in life. A choice, a decision. The way it should be, since all humans have had, and have, Free Will.
And choices and decisions have consequences as we all know.
I always thought purgatory was a Roman Catholic construct, created for those poor babies and children who die. But I believe the babies, and depending on early age, say before age 7 (that's what the Catholic Church teaches - before the maturity to know right from wrong), go straight to "heaven." In a way, I wouldn't mind going straight there either, and bypass what can be a part of life filled with sufferings. Certainly heaven exists for the little ones.
It also exists for each one of us, you and me:
"His unconstrained and sovereign Will, chose to confer upon man the unique distinction and capacity to know Him and to love Him -- a capacity that must needs be regarded as the generating impulse and the primary purpose underlying the whole of creation…. Upon the inmost reality of each and every created thing He hath shed the light of one of His names, and made it a recipient of the glory of one of His attributes. Upon the reality of man, however, He hath focused the radiance of all of His names and attributes, and made it a mirror of His own Self. Alone of all created things man hath been singled out for so great a favor, so enduring a bounty. " Baha'u'llah, Gleanings XXVII
We each have capacities. Either a thimbleful, a gallonful, or anything in between. We each have abilities and talents, sight and hearing, thoughts and feelings, opinions and convictions, and thousands more. Otherwise, how could we be called upon to account for our doings?
So we have free will because we know and believe certain things, like choosing independent over a political party. or a milk shake instead of a Coke (ugh - I like pepsi). We learn those things thru Nature - our personality, animal or human or inbetween; Nurture - care we received when young, and hopefully still receive; and Environment - growing up and what life throws our way. All three share a common thread - Education _ what we are taught or what we learn predisposes us to think and act in certain ways. That's why Education is the most important acquisition for humankind (I believe). Alexander Pope and others said it best: "As the twig is bent the tree's inclined."
So what's all this got to do with the soul? Our soul may be like a sponge or tape recorder, with an eternal energy source. Learning like we do but remembering everything. On earth and as far away as the moon, we learn how to think and act good, bad, or indifferent. Based on those learnings, we pass away to a spiritual place, a feast table, already prepared for us by our own doings. Not by "Well everyone else did it, so I followed." And the table may have a crumb on it because that's all we earned, or a full turkey dinner, or anything in between. And, we're hungry.
However, contrary to most opinions, it doesn't stop there. Could it? This is the spiritual world we're talkin' 'bout. As different to this existence as that of a baby's in the womb of it's mother. But just like a baby, the soul may gain its sustenance in the next world at that banquet table, similar to what we do in the physical world. Maybe.
And again, those evil folks may have a long dark trip before they even get to that crumb. Eternity goes on. People you have known may join you at your table, from the bad or the good. Eventually however, after you've seen what your physical body has caused, we see our errors and God's mercy and grace descends. More food and drink may be placed on the table. Now we meet the our loved ones like our spouse or mate, parents and children, and chat for eons. Along the way we chat with our best friends, and ex-bosses maybe, until we meet the glowing saints from our own lives, and the Saints of the [past? We've become so happy along the way, and others are also happier. Or maybe we console some of them along the way and them us, but always moving toward the Great Light? We pass thru purgatory or hell and into heaven. Every one of us. I believe that, notwithstanding this poor analogy. Again, free will. Just expressing some thoughts.
We enter the sanctified worlds, our mansions. Nearer to God. We meet Maids of Heaven (and not for copulation -- we aren't that person anymore), and His Angels. Paradise and nirvana can't be described in human terms, just like what I'm describing here is only my conception at this moment in time. As we learn more from the Prophets, these degrees, levels, tiers, become clearer. Limited to our human capacity to understand the unknowable, like going thru grade levels in school.
So, whether this life or the next, in both worlds, we may be on an expedition, not just to discover David Livingstone, but the truth. The true reality of our true selves and our soul. Not someone else's. Only our own.
So that's a philosophical view for today, what's you're take on the nature of soul and heaven?
By Rodney Richards
Whew, a mouthful, but here goes:
I believe that the next world, the world of spirit, exists. Have you ever seen the movie The Seventh Sign with a beautiful and pregnant Demi Moore as the protagonist, and Jurgen Prochnow as the Angel Gabriel? I believed it, it was that real. It was really about a world of souls, the matrix, before they are conceived and born in this world. Riveting. It was somewhat based on the Seven Seals described in John's Book of Revelation, which I've read. Also riveting.
But has it already happened? Or is it happening now? (That's another blog)
My mind's not made up on whether a soul preexists, even tho I certainly believe the soul of the Manifestation (Major Prophet) does, because they must share the same soul in the same body, right? They know and repeat each others Message, for example love thy neighbor as thyself, or in these days, what seems to be needed, better than thyself. It seems it's part of every religious belief, One foretelling the Coming of the next, and I think it makes common sense. The spiritual principals are eternal, social ones change in every age.
My point is that I believe in the human soul, that each one of us has one, We choose to believe, maybe believe, or not believe. Totally our choice. Like every single thing in life. A choice, a decision. The way it should be, since all humans have had, and have, Free Will.
And choices and decisions have consequences as we all know.
I always thought purgatory was a Roman Catholic construct, created for those poor babies and children who die. But I believe the babies, and depending on early age, say before age 7 (that's what the Catholic Church teaches - before the maturity to know right from wrong), go straight to "heaven." In a way, I wouldn't mind going straight there either, and bypass what can be a part of life filled with sufferings. Certainly heaven exists for the little ones.
It also exists for each one of us, you and me:
"His unconstrained and sovereign Will, chose to confer upon man the unique distinction and capacity to know Him and to love Him -- a capacity that must needs be regarded as the generating impulse and the primary purpose underlying the whole of creation…. Upon the inmost reality of each and every created thing He hath shed the light of one of His names, and made it a recipient of the glory of one of His attributes. Upon the reality of man, however, He hath focused the radiance of all of His names and attributes, and made it a mirror of His own Self. Alone of all created things man hath been singled out for so great a favor, so enduring a bounty. " Baha'u'llah, Gleanings XXVII
We each have capacities. Either a thimbleful, a gallonful, or anything in between. We each have abilities and talents, sight and hearing, thoughts and feelings, opinions and convictions, and thousands more. Otherwise, how could we be called upon to account for our doings?
So we have free will because we know and believe certain things, like choosing independent over a political party. or a milk shake instead of a Coke (ugh - I like pepsi). We learn those things thru Nature - our personality, animal or human or inbetween; Nurture - care we received when young, and hopefully still receive; and Environment - growing up and what life throws our way. All three share a common thread - Education _ what we are taught or what we learn predisposes us to think and act in certain ways. That's why Education is the most important acquisition for humankind (I believe). Alexander Pope and others said it best: "As the twig is bent the tree's inclined."
So what's all this got to do with the soul? Our soul may be like a sponge or tape recorder, with an eternal energy source. Learning like we do but remembering everything. On earth and as far away as the moon, we learn how to think and act good, bad, or indifferent. Based on those learnings, we pass away to a spiritual place, a feast table, already prepared for us by our own doings. Not by "Well everyone else did it, so I followed." And the table may have a crumb on it because that's all we earned, or a full turkey dinner, or anything in between. And, we're hungry.
However, contrary to most opinions, it doesn't stop there. Could it? This is the spiritual world we're talkin' 'bout. As different to this existence as that of a baby's in the womb of it's mother. But just like a baby, the soul may gain its sustenance in the next world at that banquet table, similar to what we do in the physical world. Maybe.
And again, those evil folks may have a long dark trip before they even get to that crumb. Eternity goes on. People you have known may join you at your table, from the bad or the good. Eventually however, after you've seen what your physical body has caused, we see our errors and God's mercy and grace descends. More food and drink may be placed on the table. Now we meet the our loved ones like our spouse or mate, parents and children, and chat for eons. Along the way we chat with our best friends, and ex-bosses maybe, until we meet the glowing saints from our own lives, and the Saints of the [past? We've become so happy along the way, and others are also happier. Or maybe we console some of them along the way and them us, but always moving toward the Great Light? We pass thru purgatory or hell and into heaven. Every one of us. I believe that, notwithstanding this poor analogy. Again, free will. Just expressing some thoughts.
We enter the sanctified worlds, our mansions. Nearer to God. We meet Maids of Heaven (and not for copulation -- we aren't that person anymore), and His Angels. Paradise and nirvana can't be described in human terms, just like what I'm describing here is only my conception at this moment in time. As we learn more from the Prophets, these degrees, levels, tiers, become clearer. Limited to our human capacity to understand the unknowable, like going thru grade levels in school.
So, whether this life or the next, in both worlds, we may be on an expedition, not just to discover David Livingstone, but the truth. The true reality of our true selves and our soul. Not someone else's. Only our own.
So that's a philosophical view for today, what's you're take on the nature of soul and heaven?
By Rodney Richards
Friday, September 13, 2013
The Joy of Fingers
We do take our hands and fingers for granted, don't we? Whether typing today's blog, or lifting a cup of Dunkin coffee to my mouth this morning, fingers are indispensable miracles of the human body.
I was reminded of this a few weeks ago at my nephew's 17 year-old birthday party, combined with that of his 13 year-old sister a week earlier. Smart parents combining it. We had driven 45 miles north from three towns in Mercer County to attend. Nine of us, plus the four in the birthday family, still missing six from the immediate family.
My brother Ralph cooked hamburgers, hot dogs and lamb skewers on the grill, with tons of ordoerves (stuffed hot peppers my favorites), salads, fixins and lots of drinks, most non-alcoholic of course. All outside on his and Yvonne's large comfortable deck, with cushioned comfortable chairs and big picnic table, hot tub nearby looking inviting. A lovely sunny, moderate day to boot. Conversations were buzzing, and things going swimmingly. It would turn into a four-and-a-half hour affair -- a short get together for us.
Until my brother and I got back from picking up the cakes in downtown Ridgewood that is. Corinne's cake was from Carlo's, a branch of the famous Cake Boss bakery in Hoboken, as seen on TV. The cake for Corinne, a shore scene, with sand and seashells and umbrella, and blue fondant on the sides as the water. Strawberries and real cream inside. So beautiful you almost don't want to slice it. Almost. The other from Ben & Jerry's, a deep dark chocolate ice cream cake with marsh mellows and cookie dough. Decorated of course, for Julian, the older brother. Both cakes favorites of theirs.
We got back, extracted the cakes from the back of the SUV, placed them on the drinks table, and Ralph went inside. Unbeknownst to me, he left shortly after arriving. It was during the cake serving that I found out why.
Julian's friend had sliced his finger cutting one of the cakes! We hadn't known at the time, but Ralph had taken him to the hospital while we gabbed and ate. Nine stitches later, enough gauze and tape to make three fingers, and they were back. Then we heard the story.
Two summers ago Janet nearly cut the tip of her finger off using clippers in the garden. Six stitches at Robert Wood Hospital.
I did the same thing, last summer, working in our garden using the same clippers. I drove myself to Robert Wood with my blue garage sweat towel around my bleeding finger. Six stitches for me to. Being the type of person I am, three weeks later I went to the hospital's Accounts department and asked how much my stitches cost. After some searching and obfuscation, the clerk said it was $2,250. She wouldn't give me a copy of the bikll; she said that was for the insurance company only. Really?
The $2,25o mu8st have been for initial intake, an ER bed, diagnosis, swabbing/cleaning the cut with astringent (expensive astringent!), novocaine, a doctor, stitches, bandage, and outtake. Not too bad?
I've met people, men mostly, who've lost a finger or thumb, or half of one or two. You'd never notice it really. The men I met never pointed it out.
But an 8th grade friend in Catholic school, Dave Shuster, the school tough guy and sometime bully, ran into a problem one day. Sacred Heart had a 7-foot tall spiked metal fence out front of its grounds. We all walked past it many times a day, starting with mandatory mass attendance for all students at 7:30 am.
I often hung with Dave, but not this afternoon, He left school with other eyewitnesses. Dave scooped down in his featherweights and black leather jacket . . . and jumped! High enough to touch the top of a spike on that fence, just to do it. We've all done dozens of things like that. Just kids.
But his gold-band ring got caught on the spike. As his heavy body fell back to the sidewalk, the top half of his finger ripped off. I hear it was bloody, but that he handled it non-challantly.he was out three days. It was so bad, they had to graft skin from his body to the finger to make it halfway normal-looking . . . .
The next day the thickly wrapped finger was a badge of courage.
Do you have any Red Badges of Courage?
by Rodney Richards
I was reminded of this a few weeks ago at my nephew's 17 year-old birthday party, combined with that of his 13 year-old sister a week earlier. Smart parents combining it. We had driven 45 miles north from three towns in Mercer County to attend. Nine of us, plus the four in the birthday family, still missing six from the immediate family.
My brother Ralph cooked hamburgers, hot dogs and lamb skewers on the grill, with tons of ordoerves (stuffed hot peppers my favorites), salads, fixins and lots of drinks, most non-alcoholic of course. All outside on his and Yvonne's large comfortable deck, with cushioned comfortable chairs and big picnic table, hot tub nearby looking inviting. A lovely sunny, moderate day to boot. Conversations were buzzing, and things going swimmingly. It would turn into a four-and-a-half hour affair -- a short get together for us.
Until my brother and I got back from picking up the cakes in downtown Ridgewood that is. Corinne's cake was from Carlo's, a branch of the famous Cake Boss bakery in Hoboken, as seen on TV. The cake for Corinne, a shore scene, with sand and seashells and umbrella, and blue fondant on the sides as the water. Strawberries and real cream inside. So beautiful you almost don't want to slice it. Almost. The other from Ben & Jerry's, a deep dark chocolate ice cream cake with marsh mellows and cookie dough. Decorated of course, for Julian, the older brother. Both cakes favorites of theirs.
We got back, extracted the cakes from the back of the SUV, placed them on the drinks table, and Ralph went inside. Unbeknownst to me, he left shortly after arriving. It was during the cake serving that I found out why.
Julian's friend had sliced his finger cutting one of the cakes! We hadn't known at the time, but Ralph had taken him to the hospital while we gabbed and ate. Nine stitches later, enough gauze and tape to make three fingers, and they were back. Then we heard the story.
Two summers ago Janet nearly cut the tip of her finger off using clippers in the garden. Six stitches at Robert Wood Hospital.
I did the same thing, last summer, working in our garden using the same clippers. I drove myself to Robert Wood with my blue garage sweat towel around my bleeding finger. Six stitches for me to. Being the type of person I am, three weeks later I went to the hospital's Accounts department and asked how much my stitches cost. After some searching and obfuscation, the clerk said it was $2,250. She wouldn't give me a copy of the bikll; she said that was for the insurance company only. Really?
The $2,25o mu8st have been for initial intake, an ER bed, diagnosis, swabbing/cleaning the cut with astringent (expensive astringent!), novocaine, a doctor, stitches, bandage, and outtake. Not too bad?
I've met people, men mostly, who've lost a finger or thumb, or half of one or two. You'd never notice it really. The men I met never pointed it out.
But an 8th grade friend in Catholic school, Dave Shuster, the school tough guy and sometime bully, ran into a problem one day. Sacred Heart had a 7-foot tall spiked metal fence out front of its grounds. We all walked past it many times a day, starting with mandatory mass attendance for all students at 7:30 am.
I often hung with Dave, but not this afternoon, He left school with other eyewitnesses. Dave scooped down in his featherweights and black leather jacket . . . and jumped! High enough to touch the top of a spike on that fence, just to do it. We've all done dozens of things like that. Just kids.
But his gold-band ring got caught on the spike. As his heavy body fell back to the sidewalk, the top half of his finger ripped off. I hear it was bloody, but that he handled it non-challantly.he was out three days. It was so bad, they had to graft skin from his body to the finger to make it halfway normal-looking . . . .
The next day the thickly wrapped finger was a badge of courage.
Do you have any Red Badges of Courage?
by Rodney Richards
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