OGSB Author’s Easter Post

 

A Scene at an Inn in Caesarea

“I don’t think he carried a sword; a knife surely and he had tools too. He was a carpenter you know?”

The innkeeper was the kind who liked to talk. He had asked a curious question, ‘Did Jesus carry a sword?’ as he served bread and wine.  Although tired, I’d been walking for a long time without seeing anyone. It had been a while since I talked to a living thing. The life of a tutor of my training is one of constant travel and some conversation seemed fine. He had offered a meal and a room. He said he knew about Jesus, I was intrigued. Being dead and buried, then walking around preaching gets a lot of attention. The innkeeper believed Jesus to have been a firebrand.

“But you were one of his chosen, weren’t ya?” The innkeeper pressed his question doggedly. “I saw you once in Jerusalem.”

“No not chosen, but for a long while I traveled with them,” I said. “Now, Peter carried a weapon and he was well trained. Matthew, the tax collector, because of his work he carried weapons. He knew how to use his staff too. Tax Collectors are not well liked. Their weapons were inside their cloak, like mine. You saw my staff too. But Judas was always talking about some sort of fighting and weapons. Judas listened to Jesus talk and never heard a word of what he said about peace. He was not revolutionary, but Judas was. He wore his sword outside his garment and would have made us an armed band of ruffians, but Jesus always steered us from violence.”

“The preacher,” the innkeeper asked, “what was he like? Some of those pious ones come in here often. Their soft hands and need to tell people what to do, don’t make them popular with none of my clients.”

“Oh, I am a man of words and yet they never seem to completely describe Him.  Soft and pious are not words I would ever use talking about Jesus though?”

“Tell me then. What was he like?”

I was curious about his insistence to know more. Was he trying to get me to speak against the guards? Funny fellow. “Jesus was a man who worked with His hands.” I said. “I’ve seen his spit in the dirt and make a blind man see with the mud. He didn’t go wash like the priests, he brushed His hands together and moved on. He washed before eating surely.”

“I figure them stories to be tall tales.”

“They weren’t,” I was bragging maybe, “He did a lot more things like that. He made madmen sane, cured women’s problems, he once cast demons into a bunch of hogs and made them run into the river and drown.”

“You saw that?”

“Yes.”

“He wasn’t just a little prissy priest like the one comes in here and wants free wine?”

“No, he was powerful,” I argued, “Some of the furniture He and Joseph made was heavy, sturdy stuff.”

“My father was like that. He wasn’t a carpenter by trade, but he had calloused hands and could make all kinds of things to work in the fields.” The innkeeper offered more wine, but I covered my cup. He leaned over the table and waited.

“You would have liked him my friend.” I suggested.

“Think so?”

“Jesus was very strong, had the shape of a gladiator or one of the Legion and a similar stride. He was always erect, would look you in the eyes when he talked.” I told him.

“What was that dust up at the Marketplace. I heard he went crazy.” The innkeeper goaded.

“The Marketplace? I was there, it wasn’t a marketplace, it was the Temple, sacred space. It was God’s house and He said God was his father. They had started really being competitive, holding things to buy in his face. Money was being changed loudly and the livestock stink was intense. He had enough of their behavior, took a coil of rope and ran the lot of them off the property. He looked like a gladiator for a moment, they were afraid of Him.”

“He was a revolutionary, no?”

“No, he was not trying to overthrow Roman law or desecrate, he was cleaning out unclean and bad behavior at the Temple. It’s much too beautiful for all the trading and material things. He was a gentle man. He had wisdom of the ages and would take time to listen, then explain the scriptures, give us entirely different understandings of what God’s word said and what the prophets wrote. His words had such impact, such meaning. He would comfort you, encourage you and promise to empower you to do exactly what was right. Jesus, was a man who looked like the Greek statues of gods, spoke like the final authority and had the ability to make you comfortable in your own skin.”

“What of these followers, the cursed Legions and the Priest hate them. That Roman Saul, he has become obsessed about the movement.”

“Now he is called Paul, I know him, we had the same teacher, Gamaliel, who is partial to the teachings of Jesus. Gamaliel is worried about him. I told him the other day, ‘If Paul could have met Jesus, somewhere alone without a crowd where the little rooster didn’t think he had to play that role; it would have been different.’”

“But Jesus disappeared? Right?”

“He ascended into Heaven is how Peter described it. I was not there.”

“What are you guys left behind ‘sposed ta do?”

“Just what I’m doing,” I smiled, “Blessings on you. All He asked of us was to tell others about Him. Treat others with respect and be good examples.”

The shopkeeper was distracted by others in the in, “I’ve gotta get to work. You gonna be around?”

“Just for the night. I have a young man to tutor in Tyre.”

“Wish you could stick around.”

“Keep your ear to the ground. The disciples preach, there are many followers who teach. They get together, eat, visit and study the Old law and what Jesus taught. The word is not for just the Jews anymore. You can live after your death as a follower of Jesus.”

“Hadn’t heard that.”

“Now you have. Jesus said, ‘Seek and ye shall find.’ But it has to be your decision. I must rest for tomorrow. Blessings again.”

“Good talkin’ with ya.”

Authors: W.D.Edmiston, J North, Spencer Allen.

OGSB Authors.com

Western Adventure with heart from Robert M. Starr

An epic Western Gunfighter novel for Christian readers

OGSBAuthors’ Robert M. Starr published his fourth book, The Mountain Valley Wrangler, a western saga in the style of Louis L’Amour, on February 2, 2020, and this one promises to be a page-turner too.  Starr won writing awards for two previous books. More story details are available when you sign up to the OGSB Authors website sidebar; those signing up an email address and the note WRANGLER in the message block will soon be notified when the details are finalized for a week-long free eBook promotion.  For those of you who can’t wait or who prefer to hold a book in your hands, The Mountain Valley Wrangler is available in paperback or for Kindle readers from Amazon.

Young adults are hero and heroine in Wrangler

“I’ve always loved westerns.  I grew up watching western movies and reading western novels.  And I lived the life of a cowboy on a Nebraska ranch.  My first writing award was for a western novel.  Before I wrote The Mountain Valley Wrangler, I walked the ground that my characters walked and the trails they rode into the Sangre de Cristo Mountains.  I camped beside the lakes where they camped.  I spoke to the children and grandchildren of the early settlers of the Wet Mountain Valley to learn their history.  I “haunted” the files of the Wet Mountain Tribune, and I spent considerable time in the Denver Public Library.  Then I wrote the story of Will Bartlett and his family.  I hope you enjoy it.” Robert M. Starr

Edmiston, the moderator, and Robert Starr are the principal authors on the OGSB Authors website and blog. We have four authors listed and at least three more new books out soon. As the press release mentions above, if you go to our contact page and give us your email, we will notify you of anything new, free eBooks, and we will soon have a contest with real prizes when you sign up.

We also have a great addition coming to OGSB, a fine artist who travels the States and elsewhere painting beautiful landscapes. This is an award winning artist whose work is exhibited in galleries and whose art is highly sought after by a distinguished set of buyers. We will also let you know when her page on this site is completely finished. WDE

Sam Spradlin and broken glass – Spence Allen

Sam Spradlin was a big man of British lineage, who flew a Hawker Hurricane in the Battle of Britain with a very respectable 14 kills.  Sam followed a nurse from the airfields of WWII to America where they promptly married. He was a pleasant man who loved people. They cared about him because he genuinely wanted to help everyone he came across. That meant he often gave a lot of attention to people who needed help in his auto repair shop. Those who took the most of his time were the auto racers because he was a racer himself. They all knew he had a great sense of humor and looked at the world in an entirely different and humorous view.

Sam shared a building with Chadwick Stang, another Brit, whose expertise was the spinning wonder called the turbocharger. It was an add-on for increased power that had proven itself on several aircraft during the same war were Sam had served. Chadwick however, had served in clean hangers and in places far from battle. The two grandfathers liked each other and at the same time Chadwick was terribly competitive and secretly still a bit awed by Sam the Air Ace – so many years after their war experiences. Often, Sam was the butt of his snide remarks and bad jokes. Chadwick was a bit of a know-it-all and delighted in second guessing Sam. He was happiest when getting the attention of racers who gathered in his office away from Sam. In other words, Chadwick deserved what he had coming.

Chadwick was an engineer and had been an advisor to several aircraft companies on the subject of turbocharger design and manufacture, He sold turbo’s and had several young men either working or hanging out at his shop. They came to learn how to use their turbos and to hear Chadwick brag on the turbo story, his part in it and what racer was using his equipment.  At the time of this story, auto enthusiasts everywhere were discovering that they could add an easy 100 horsepower to their car by adding a turbo. Therefore, turbochargers quickly became the target of thieves hoping to make a fast buck.

One night, two burglars had smashed a window panel at Chadwick’s office and because of a silent alarm, been caught by police while loading turbos into their truck. This was before every policeman had a body camera or it would have shown that for the last two or more minutes of the burglary something funny had happened. The officers arrived quietly. They grabbed the first burglar from behind and noiselessly, pushed him to the ground and handcuffed him. The third officer, who was standing in the dark, went unnoticed by the second burglar, who kept handing boxes of turbos out of the window. The officer took then and waited. The short delay gave the others time to put the first burglar in their patrol car. At a signal the police officers regrouped, grabbed the second man, pulled him through the window and arrested him. Quite the odd little comedy of the absurd! That instance set up the comeuppance of Chadwick Stang.

Chadwick, decided he did not want to call the landlord to replace the window and ordered a piece of glass to do it himself.  He took a long lunch with Sam, dropped by the glazier and picked up his glass. When they got back to the shop, several of the regular hanger’s-on had gathered in Chadwick’s office. He unwrapped the brown paper wrapped glass and discovered it was about on inch too long to fit the opening. There was a round of teasing and harassment from the audience of auto racers aimed at Chadwick for mis-measuring the hole. This put him in his worst state of mind; out of favor with the racers in front of Sam. Chadwick was befuddled, angry at the teasing and very uncomfortable that Sam was watching. He knew Sam would bring this up several times, not just a few days, but years into his future.

Resolved to correct his mistake, he dug in a toolbox, found a forlorn looking glass cutter in the back of a drawer and proceeded to score the glass with a straight edge to shorten it. The technique was to score the glass completely across then turning the tool around tap it with the weighted ball on the handle. The shorter piece was supposed to crack off along the scribed line. A person experienced in this art could cut several pieces of glass in a few minutes without problem. Chadwick, however, was not experienced and failed to properly score the glass. When he tapped the crack, rather than follow the scoring like it was supposed to, the break ran off at a 30-degree angle. The only thing left to do was buy another. Sam took the tool and hammered the piece of glass into several bits.

“Why did you do that,” Chadwick whined”

Sam grinned, “To keep you from taping it together and putting it in the window.” The other men in the room knew Chadwick well and knew his tendency to “cheap-out” when that sort of thing happened. Chadwick was steaming as Sam grabbed the closest receptacle and swept the glass fragments into it. “That’s my manufacturer’s award trophy from Garretson you idiot.” Chadwick was livid. The racers howled at his discomfort.

Sam measured the window and sent his parts runner back to the glazier for a new piece of glass. As the runner left, Sam saw a uniformed service tech enter the shop across the street. The seed of an idea took root and blossomed. He moved away from the other racers. Sam watched for the man to come back out and as he waited, intercepted the runner with the new piece of wrapped glass. Sam took it, walked across the street and caught the service tech just as he came out of the building. The man was someone who he a spoken to on several occasions at a local restaurant and wore a generic uniform with a name patch on the left pocket side of his shirt. He had exactly the right look for Sam’s plan.  In a moment, Sam had the man enlisted in his scheme. Sam went back across the street and waited in the office until the service tech walked through Chadwick’s door. When he did, he was holding the new piece of brown paper wrapped glass.

“Hi,” said the service tech, “Sally sold you the wrong piece of glass this morning, she wanted me to swap with you. This one is yours, if I could get the other. Looks like you haven’t put it in yet.” The man motioned to the empty window pane in the office.

“I don’t have any glass” Chadwick said, getting up and leaving the office. On his way out the door he said, “Don’t know what you are talking about.”

With that Sam knew what to do. He spoke quietly to the service tech who went outside and pretended to make a call on what was then a modern mobile phone; the Motorola Dyna-Tac also called a brick phone. The peanut gallery of racers watched and wondered what would happen next. Just about the time Chadwick came back, the service tech came back too at Sam’s direction. A couple of the men noticed and exchanged whispers, waiting to see what happened.

“Sir, I called Sally, she said if you would just check your glass, you will find it’s too big.”

“I don’t have any glass,” Chadwick sputtered. “Just leave I can’t help you.” Chadwick’s voice had risen several decibels. That and his general discomfort made him look a bit like Barney Fife trying to explain himself to Sheriff Taylor.

“Oh, Chadwick give him the glass, maybe he can do something with it.” At the same time, Sam handed the tech the trophy where he had swept the glass shards. The room erupted with laughter. The tech took the trophy and left.

“Come back here with my trophy.” Chadwick howled.

By then several of the men in the room had figured out it was all Sam’s doing. Sam went out and got in the service truck with the tech and took him to lunch, spurring another round of laughter. The joke was all anyone talked about for a week.

It’s never good to make fun of a person who you think is a push-over; the kind of person who is helpful and kind. Creation has it’s own way of spinning the globe into position for them to point out your foolishness. Kindness and honest effort on the part of other people is not weakness, it’s maturity. The kind, honest and meek in appearance will not engage you in endless debate. But in the end, they will put an end to foolishness and bad behavior. This is a lesson that children and those adults who act like them must often learn the hard way. Spence Allen

Yes, Virginia – citizens do need the same guns as the military!

This Virginia grab at guns seems to have made an impression on the left. Don’t let that fool you. It reminds me of the Civil War battles at Gettysburg at Big Round Top and Little Round top. A superior force of Genral Lee’s troops led by Sgt. William Oates attacked a New York 15th Regiment and a detachment of Berdan’s Sharpshooters under the command of 1st. Sgt. Wyman White.  At Big Round top Oates troops charged several times and were pushed back. Significant to this story is that when they regrouped, they were told to attack the rear flank of the Union troops. They were ordered ahead before the men could refill ammuniton pouches or even their canteens. They were battle hardened troops with a lot of experience. Oates wanted to stay at Big Round top and establish a defensive position. But a too-confident superior ordered them after the Union Troops. The marched with older muskets and flintlocks and a few captured Springfield’s which were slow to reload.

At the next position, Little Round Top, White’s men had retreated and taken up even better positions. It was a carnage of unbelievable proportions. The battle of Gettysburg was decided right there when the Southern troops were in full retreat. The New York citizen regiment’s under Sgt. White’s command – all of them Sharpshooters were carrying newer percussion cap rifled muskets which reloaded much easier. The men too were chosen because they passed the test of ten succesive shots into a bullseye at 600 yards in a five inch pattern; not a hair more would pass. Once they passed that test, these citizen soldiers were sent to the front lines. The far smaller group, so armed, untested and little training beat back and almost destroyed the entired CSA regiment commanded by Oates’ superior force.

It was still true in Fallujah years later, expecting the citizen soldiers there to be a fairly easy fight the US military leaders almost got our asses kicked. Our guys found dozens of training, gun handling and tactical classrooms. The citizen soldier was tough, prepared and ready to defend their position.

The moral to the story? There is no reason for us to think all we need are hunting firearms.  The defense of our Second Amendment rights, or more precisely, the government’s restriction on doing a damn thing about them must be preserved. We cannot assume as did Sgt. Oates superiors, that we have them on the run and they will not keep running. These guys think they have a better postition and will make another stand. We, as citizens, can’t have our figurative weapons unequal, with empty canteens and be low on ammunition. In fact, our superior weapons of, truth, educating ourselves in the law, and acting as a government of the people must be backed up by another charge.  Soon. The government of Virginia need to know it’s not just a matter of mounting another charge.

The fact is, 1st. Sgt Wyman White did exactly that, when the Southern forces attempted another assault on Little Round Top. He ordered his men to charge down the hill.  Had Sgt. Oates of the CSA won at Little Round top, the Civil War would have been won by the South. We would be two nations. One with slavery as a functional part of their national identity. Yes, we need as good and as powerful weapons as those that will be brought against us. And we as a civilian militia should train ourselves to shoot, to argue with our government and make sure the people we send to Congress go there with the same attitude. And, no, that does not mean I would hope that the south would have won – not implied or suggested.  Slavery should never have happened in the first place.

The first amendment is protected by the second. When one goes away so goes the next. The government of Virgina was seeking to put the force of the United States Military and their weapons against their citizens. That is staggering and the founders took the power of the government away in order to make sure it never happened.

Sgt. Oates went home to Alabama and eventually became Governor of the State. 1st. Sgt Wyman White went home and became postmaster of his community. Years later, Oates wrote to White commending his courage, professionalism and said there should be a statue erected at Gettysburg to him. WDE

OGSB Authors Associate, Spence Allen has a new murder mystery due out this month. Sign up on our Contact Page and we will let you know when you can get a free eBook copy. ogsbauthors.com

 

Puppy Socialism

We can do something cool with this neat thing I found, doncha, think?

If you have a heart and maybe a puppy, you know what you must do when the well-intentioned little knot head comes, muddy footed through the doggy door again dragging something dead and nasty. Do you get rid of the dog, call it names, kick it? Well, I said “if you had a heart”, so no. Do you let him keep the smelly dead thing? No, unless you have a thing for stench. In most instances, we just love on the puppy, give it a breath chew and make a bit of fuss, to let them know you are displeased. They now know that all their ideas aren’t great ones. You wonder if the puppy thinks, “Gosh, we should do something with this great thing I found, don’t you think?”

That describes about half the population in America, who think they have an entirely new thought. It just popped right into their head. Maybe it will solve some conundrum that all the experts say can’t be fixed. It usually pops into their head after some character in a movie, or another puppy-minded individual, trying to be the smarter person in the room, mentions it. It’s why the irons in hotel rooms have a tag, “Do not use this device while still wearing the garment.” Oh, and a huge series of internet “fails.” Then their is the vacuous idea of socialism as a form of government. 

During the early 19th Century we had this new electricity stuff and we attached it to everything from plants to our fiddle-de-bits expecting it to be a panacea. Today it’s artificial intelligence and of course, the “new” idea of socialism.

Let’s first examine the thought that socialism is a new idea. Flatly, it isn’t. This type of idealistic take on government goes back to the Socrates and Plato. The latter came up with the idea that “really smart” people should run society and not so smart people should help them live their lives, spend heir money and provide situational ethics to daily routine.  It has been attempted with disasterous result. At least five times in the 20th century alone,  socialism failed on a grand scale resulting in a world war, intentional starvation, unintentional starvation, a slaughter of educated people, massive waste of resources and disillusionment of entire nations – and over 100 Million dead. We know why that happened, it’s no secret.  Socialism does not work because it’s the grand idea from the point of view of the guys who expect to be running things. And when they run things, they invariably resort to violence to enforce their will.

Then there is the issue of human nature. The great planners in the elite think all people “ought” to do everything the right way. When they try to design the right way for us they come up with something that is the very best, bestest way. Humans do not behave that way, even the Biblical Jesus  if you look at it objectively, couldn’t get that kind of response. He offered eternal life, the conquering of death to an audience aching for relief from poverty, judgement, corrupt politicians created by elitists. Even that beleagered group would not sign up 100%. He knew it too, telling his followers there would always be a remnant.

  It’s also called Utopian, which is an impossiblity in governmental affairs because of the same problem with human nature.  That is the difficulty with socialism and social programs, they are reaching for 100% effectiveness and participation  by everyone.  Idealism is tried on everything too, creating utopian programs with bookish names that mean nothing. They create, one social program after another, which falls short. And then there is the fact today that much of what is broken got that way from social programs.

America works best like aircraft engines, at ¾ throttle, producing best power at lowest fuel consumption. Not all airplanes fly as high, don’t carry as much and little ones are not as safe as big ones. Individually though, they work best when they operate at less than wide open throttle.

 Every year, those who rediscover socialism in college think, “Gosh, we ought to do something with this thing I found, don’t you think?” Trying socialism again is the rough equivalent of an intense examination of a puppy’s stool, hoping to find a clean end. Maybe use it as a Crayola. All it has ever done is create the same kind of smelly mess – and literally thousands and millions of dead people. One of the greater populist leaders said of socialism, “But the death of one person is a local tragedy, whereas the death of thousands is merely a statistic.”  Now that’s cold. It does not work, and the reasons why are easy to find, and yet they want to try it again.

Why is it then that people do the exact same thing as the puppy and yet we make excuses for them. The dog does not know better, but even a high school educated friend should know not to bring figuratively smelly things around. But they do, and you and I let them get away with it. What we should do is rub their noses in it and swat them with a newspaper. The rank and file American, just a small percentage of them, could stand up and give our representatives the notion they will not get reelected unless they do things the was we want – plans that work well when we and they work well. 

Spencer A. Allen

Cooties in Congress

Anthropologist Tok Thompson of University of California says Cooties are “profoundly important” if kids choose to participate in the mythology, law and language that surrounds them. Simon Broner of Penn State in Harrisburg says kids represent their own “semiliterate society with their own touchstones” according to an article in Smithsonian magazine by Jane C. Hu. If an adult does stop learning adult critical analysis at adolescence — as I theorize — then it stands to reason some of that mythological reality stays with them in Adult Arrested Adolescence. I introduced you to that concept in my last blog.

Name calling

Look how “adolescent law, myth, language and loyalties become a starting place for adults to become fixed or trapped into a constantly argumentative, self-loathing street fighter for causes.  Politicians with the easy access to the “bully pulpit” of their positions become Tri-As when they use intimidation, threats of suit and other legal action against people who disagree with them.  They are just as apt to become potent salespeople or showmen and could make a real career in either field. Fake news then is nothing new it has just been given permission you might call it when politicians fear to lose the support of voting blocs like BLM or the religious right. So, cooties really play a part in this whole show of Adolescent Impeachment.

They are just techniques used by both the junior high “fem-phenom” who rules an adolescent clique adopted by colorful upwardly mobile politicians on both sides of the aisle of the United States Congress.

The cootie myth

Cootie, is a part of that secret language of children. Their semi-literate societies choose to believe in cooties; they can experience real nauseous if cooties got on them; and there are stories in abundance of children being persecuted for “having cooties.”   Even today, you still see movies that refer to them.  Cooties, boogers and pee-pee are all things that really belong in the pre-adolescent world.   Our parents teach us to keep our fingers out of our noses and kids. quickly figure out that a booger is a ballistic weapon.  We tell our children to wash our hands in the bathroom and watch where we step in public restrooms and some of them figure out boogers, poop and urine can be tools for torment.  This adds a pejorative term or two to the adolescent vocabulary e.g. “Pee-pee head” “You peed in your pants.”  Each becomes terminology in a playground battlefield for position and power.  When an Tri-A finds his place inside some social or political movement, name-calling just becomes another cootie term.  “Figuratively then they decide our side does not have cooties but their side does; I know how to do that!  Those guys are ________!” Look at the kinds of perverse and cruel terms used against President Trump, Obama, Bush all because of political differences rather than real offenses.

 Just fill in the blank with a term like racist, hateful, or anti-anything, and suddenly, they begin to feel at home in a clique, a place that is familiar and cozy. Everyone there understands your language. This kind of public disorder in our legislative branches “trickles down” into the normal citizens activity.

 I have worked as a peach officer called to a disturbance and seen a Tri-A verbalize exactly this sort of thing.  A dog pooped in someone’s yard, they call the police, they call animal control, they go to the city council meetings, and they do crazy things just to promote their own importance and power.  Police see this sort of thing all the time, but it does not affect the entire country when neighbors argue.

An unprecedented black mark on our country

Adult adolescence has greater impact when it occurs in our government and when it becomes rampant in our culture because of our schools.  Tri-As in government are damaging to the entire country.  It creates what we know as a “bunker mentality” that blocks out all rational thought.  It gives a name to a position behind a barrier from which the acolyte figuratively screams: “Don’t argue with me, you have cooties!”

 Without reservation, having understood the FBI from the time that Hoover ran it, working with the FBI people in my areas, I can say they the Mueller, Comey and so-called FBI standoff with congress have none of the adult behavior I saw from earlier FBI agents following Hoover’s creed of conduct.  This is a disgrace to the reputation of the Federal Bureau Reputation and I and sure it will take another Hoover to restore respect.  Seeing them on television, reading the language of their statements and comments, the entire debacle is based on cooties.  Their opposition has cooties and those they support, took money from, peddled influence with, and the way they stacked their investigative staff with true believers is nothing more.  “They got cooties, we don’t.”

The adolescent impeachment and many of those involved on both sides, their staff, their supporters seem more concerned about winning the “gotcha wars” with each other and using the media to keep score.  We have watched mere handful of self-important people play out this farce who are more interested in doing things their way than the original rules under which we were founded.  They are not serving the American people.  What is happening in that regard is a Tri-A process of the junior high clique.  It is sad that the people there do not have greater maturity.

Photo Bruce Anderson, Unsplash

I SEE PIGMENTS TOO

Photo – Tony Ross – Unsplash

“I see pigments of myself from the people I meet.” Kimberly Pauig kimpaulig.wordpress.com

Thank you Kimberly. Today Spence A. Allen, Associate Author of OBSB adds his thoughts to a complex world. WDE

Isn’t this a great way of expressing what we call the “take away” these days when we meet new people or ideas.  Some pigments are great memories that add brilliant hues, or some deep rich meaningful color. I’m a happy guy and the colors decorate my day like flags. Looking up the word pigment, I naturally expected it to mention color. But pigment also means the carbons and metals that occur in nature. Pigments of myself then would then be the very makeup of who you are; that you see in others. That’s rather profound. Certainly, we are all individuals, but we are made up of the same natural elements. That would mean that the only “color” differences we really face are not the things of which we are made, but mythical definitions we have “made up” about the value of other people. We make up the pigments of race like a small child makes up imaginary friends.

We are more alike than we are different. It reminds me of the quotation from Major John Bell Hood – played by Levon Hill in In the Electric Mist: “Venal and evil men are destroying the world you were born in. It’s us against them my good friend. Don’t compromise your principles or abandon your cause.”

 I take that quotation as an upbeat approach to good. We all have the same ability, if we ignore the venal and evil of this world, to achieve great success as a person. Not as a people, but singular as a person — an individual. We can be an island of content and goodness if we recognize the piments. We share them with those who do not compromise their principles or abandon their individual goals. We travel this earth alongside them, recognizing the beauty of our basic sameness, while allowing us both to reach our uniqueness.

Spencer A. Allen

Adolescent Impeachment

Looks like a hissy fit by a clique of Junior High girls who think they “know how

It’s a hard read. This show trial business they are calling impeachment makes is hard to watch, understand and hear. But when you look at it from the point of view of the Tri-A or Adult Arrested Adolescent and what we know of the state of American education, it makes sense.

Let’s review. The Tri-A is an adult lifestyle, thinking and behavior model that shares all the characteristics of what we know about adolescence. We know that adolescence is a chaotic period in a teens life, but the Tri-A or Adult Arrested Adolescent is an adult locked in the mindset of a hot blooded, self-absorbed, hormonal teen. That mindset remains into adulthood but gets more complicated when the adult enter the working world, seeking positions where they can “change things” or “make a difference.” That’s when the adolescent tendency to choose almost every hill as the one they are willing to die on gets tedious. Everything they want becomes worthy of the ultimate sacrifice. That is just as long as they can have a Carmel Macchiato afterward and congratulate themselves.

Their side of the impeachment matter thinks they understand those very complex tools that change public opinion – but they are failing in their execution through poor selection of their prepared witnesses (Mini-Manchurian Candidates) who fail to support their hastily drawn and redrawn myth of what constitutes criminal behavior. The adolescent is the first to decide they can redefine things, like my son who decided at age 11 he was a teenager. His logic was that his age now had two numbers, making him a teen. It was just a minor change in interpretation of the rules. “But, but, it looks like a teenager!” (said with angst)

Another stand-out characteristic adolescent trait is the fear of being wrong and inability to accept criticism from those discussing their behavior. Much of what is displayed in the hearings is just that; fear. You see the “prosecution” side trying to find an identity for and a label for what they are doing when the rules do not really apply. There is an ongoing struggle to keep changing labels as the Tri-As seek an identity that works with their peers and supporters. Meanwhile, the adolescent belief that they can baffle us all into believing “their issues” are unique, never before solved and poorly understood by lesser minds. Therefore, actually creating out of thin air those issues has weighed heavily on the main aggressor, Mr. Schiff. Watching the collective minded cohort surrounding him, they become a folie à deux and appear to be apathetic to the madness. As he pounds his gavel in imperious fashion the worn out faux-trial tilts at windmill after windmill in search of a real crime. The Chairman’s chair becomes his own, Rozinante, as he tries to conquer what he sees as simple-minded opposition. It is like early adolescents who still have some idea that somewhere, in some special circumstance, they are special wield almost magical power. “I wear Sargon’s ring, fear me.”
On the other side of the argument there are a few trying to stop what looks like a hissy fit by a clique of Junior High girls who think they “know how.” Those few who do resist seem just as bombastic and oozing of misplaced enthusiasm. They play the role of an older group, somewhat adolescent itself but less collective in their thinking. The two argue over minor issues more because they dislike each other rather than something substantive. The only adults in the room who attempt to bring truth and reason to the situation are ignored. About half of the opposition group exhibit the same fear of criticism and sensitivity as the other. They hesitate to be truly involved for fear their behavior might cost them votes or fewer likes on social media. They certainly don’t want to discolor their self-constructed reality in which they are a sort of white knight, able to understand both sides of the discussion. They sound good, but like most adolescents they make decisions based on feelings and who is praising them. Both sides of the war-of-words, are like teens, tending to underestimate how difficult change and the complexity of things can be. They channel all things through the filter of “what will other people in my clique think?” The actual work they are supposed to be doing has been lost in a dust-devil of tears, hurt feelings and adolescent self-doubt aimed at proving themselves “right.”.

For the most part, the entire episode can be likened to a disagreement over the decoration of the gym for prom by two sides of a simple question that has been answered many times in the past through patience and understanding. This isn’t the first prom; we have fixed problems like this in the past easily and cooperatively. But this time, the aggressor, Mr. Schiff must lose. They act like children, but the adult solution was written long ago specifically to guide us in how to deal with these matters – we have rules. In this case, each side is seeking some Deus ex Machina that provides a third solution without either having to compromise. It’s emblematic of self-destructive Adult Arrested Adolescence. Gone is reason, humanity, kindness and humility.

[1] Folie à deux, shared psychosis, or shared delusional disorder is a psychiatric syndrome in which symptoms of a delusional belief and sometimes hallucinations are transmitted from one individual to another.

[1] :  Deus Ex Machina -A person or thing (as in fiction or drama) that appears or is introduced suddenly and unexpectedly and provides a contrived solution to an apparently insoluble difficulty

Read more at woodyedmiston.blog OBSB Authors

Random Thoughts

Avoid anyone who gives you advice starting with “All you have to do is . . because these people will cause you pain.

Occam’s Razor does not apply to conspiracy theories.

Love is what make’s two people think they are pretty even when no one else does.

Any person, having taken delivery of a dump truck load of 9 yards of earth — and being equipped with only a shovel and a wheelbarrow will have no problem with the suggestion aliens built the pyramids.

A Beginning

A couple of years ago, Looking Backward, Forward was published. I wrote the book and placed it on Amazon to copyright so to speak a concept.  It wasn’t ready. At the time, having a Website and Blog had not entered my radar; I had no idea what it could be.  This is the first in a blog series that is what that book should have been in the first place.

Looking Backward, Forward – the Blog

Some 40 percent of our culture contains adults who are locked into thinking characteristically like an adolescent child, a term coined as Adult Arrested Adolescent or Tri-A.  It is derived from my reading of Eric Hoffer’s book, The True Believer, thoughts on the nature of mass movements, (1951.) Hoffer was the first to give us definitions and an understanding of how mass movements work. Central to his concepts is the idea of the true believer. True believers see themselves as damaged. They instinctively look for a way to fix themselves by becoming part of something bigger and not always better. Being famous for crazy stuff is good enough. Ideas like Progressivism, Socialism, Catholicism, Christianity as a religion, Protestantism, and Islam also contain a large number of fanatics. Social Reformers like Barack Obama seek out these who mistakenly or foolishly see themselves as nonredeemable. They offer them glory by “hitching themselves” to their movements. To accomplish that ruse, Obama bastardized an idea of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s whose suggestion was for the individual to personally set high goals, “hitched to stars” rather than subsume themselves to lower expectations. To be fair, warrior chiefs, generals, and all other forms of totalitarians seeking cannon fodder have used the same spiel throughout history. From those ideas I began to look at them as seeds of a latter-day behavioral disorder I previously called Tri-A or Adult Arrested Adolescence.  Hoffer didn’t say a word about the Tri-A himself, my research following his line of thinking lead me to the Adult Arrested Adolescent.  

Utopian schemers have created the Tri-A to be the ideal follower to their causes.

Then as now, Hoffer showed us that Utopians are constantly trying to make their fiddling a needed control mechanism of mainstream American culture. If then the Tri-A concept takes that one step further, and they do line up very well, I contend it was not an accident. By manipulating the American school systems quietly and promoting politically correctness culturally Utopian schemers have created the Tri-A to be the ideal follower to their causes. On this topic I will be discussing the entire issue as if preparing a probable cause statement by an investigator. Developing the idea of cause is part of my background and training. Perhaps one day a psychological tool can be created to determine by a set of established standards if the Tri-A as a legitimate addition for the Desk Reference to Diagnostic Criteria. It may become a diagnosis like Obsessive Compulsive Disorder or Depression.

After WWII and the revelations of what fanaticism had done to millions in the world, Hoffer could study the direct cause and effect of manipulative governments and populist leaders.  Hoffer watched these activities as they occurred during the 1930’s through the 1950’s.  He then compared them in The True Believer to ideas that are more ancient and the words of commentators who spoke on similar eternal truths of those periods.  What he taught us has passed the test of time.  Hoffer understood mass movements because he immersed himself in the topic. Since 2006 I have spent hundreds of hours studying the Tri-A.   For the last three decades since first reading his book, I have applied his ideas to what has happened in America.  Since the lure of Utopian ideas and political movements are highly attractive to the person who feels he is damaged and incomplete they are interested in changing things.  Change — without any further definition has become a war cry for Progressive partisans trying to recruit those who seek to reinvent themselves. The same partisan evangelists promise that change will make the damaged person whole but offer only fairness, equality, and promises of creating new legislation.  Each evangelist hopes that their one great effort will guarantee equality and fairness.  They tell every listener the solution is to promote the concept of centralization of all matters to the highest authority.  The first problem with all their solutions is that fairness and equality are concepts that work between individuals.  A third party, unless it is a judge deciding a fact of law, is a poor choice to determine fairness for others. So is a judge, but that’s how we set it up in the legal system. Fair solutions cannot be enforced by a top-down structure that comes from an overeager government.  As far as centralization and dictation from government on the outcome of things is concerned – why do we think people in government know better?  The kids of my heyday would have said, “Who died and made you king?”  Secondly, teaching that there is an ultimate authority to which all disputes can be referred does not teach self-reliance and the ability to negotiate with your friends and neighbors.  In early civilizations, the elders of more organized societies met at the city gate to act as judges in disputes.  It is an ancient method.  But involving the police or courts in your affairs speaks of weakness of character and that you cannot reach a constructive agreement.  At that point, the only thing left is to recover damages from whatever the elements of the dispute show are called for. Letting others decide how to live your life is like shooting nuclear warheads.   A real rocket scientist who worked in the intercontinental missile program told me, “No matter what happens, if we use these things; we lose.”  To teach children that they cannot get through life without handouts or help from the “boss” is to teach them to be peasants.  We lose. Have you not asked yourself if there is something more serious going on when grown people have no understanding of things taught in high school.  They cannot understand or construct simple sentences or grasp more complex issues like cause and effect?   Were you slightly amused at the number of people who went to psychiatrists because their candidate lost the election in 2016?  Do the people who serve you, work for you, sit next to you at a ball game sometimes amaze you with their childish view of things?  Do you wonder how they arrive at concepts like, “Drug free zones” or “Safe Spaces” since those are hopelessly childish views of how social control works?  That is the point.  They are not just acting like kids; they really are still adolescents behaviorally. They let others tell them how to live and so nor understand why it does not always work out in their favor, interpreting fair and equal as “The way I want it to be.”  

In later posts I will continue to layer evidence that will point to the validity of the Tri-A or Adult Arrested Adolescent. Follow us and leave your email so we may keep you updated. WDE