Israel
BANNED
I did.
But why be so parochial in thinking?
Why not beam tortoise toenails?
Or picnic baskets full of fried chicken?
Nah, truth trumps lasers and toenails.
But settle for what you will.
Welcome Guest!
Jordan Peterson
- Thread starter ambush80
- Start date
I did.
But why be so parochial in thinking?
Why not beam tortoise toenails?
Or picnic baskets full of fried chicken?
Nah, truth trumps lasers and toenails.
But settle for what you will.
ambush80
Senior Member
I like yours too. How about "Can someone who gets the right mix of living and dying vomit cotton candy? I don't know what we're capable of." Could Jesus do it if he wanted? If it said that he did in the Bible would you believe it?
Israel
BANNED
Since the word may have come forth C12 H22 O11, or it may just as easily have come forth in both language and tones inconceivable, (or even all to me of silence) I have no problem with cotton candy originating through His mouth. I don't think God is ever obligated to call stuff with the assignations we come up with. But, then He is also free to limit himself when, and if, it's to Him, of purpose.
So in that sense, not only do I not mind eating what comes forth from His mouth, I don't know of anything of more benefit to me. When cotton candy is included...that's OK, too.
But that's the thing. It seems that JBP is talking about some arcane spiritual exercise, Jesus never said it was that. We look at mechanisms. We mostly grasp in terms of mechanisms. JBP never once mentions..."hey...perhaps paying attention to God our Father will show us what we don't know". Now, I don't think He's wrong to be amazed to the extent of wanting to know "what's going on inside Jesus".."what's Jesus doing that could allow this?" In fact, I think that (if it is indeed any portion of JBP's wonder) is indeed a good thing.
But to think that Jesus was concerned with some exercise other than paying the strictest attention to His Father, and that it was always His Father doing the works...through Him...well...
But Jesus was quite plain..."of myself, I can do nothing." No working this stuff "up"...no effort of oneself, manages any of it.
It's not that folks weren't "wowed" and wanted to know the secret. "What must we do to do the works of God"...they asked. I can't help but think it was "how do we get our hands on this power".
Jesus told them. And told them the work. And the why of the work. And who is always at work.
To find that...to believe that...to see that...even if brought merely by a craven desire for power (in seeing your own powerlessness displayed by an exceeding power you have never witnessed) well, to pay attention is all there is. Pay attention to the Authority. Look for Him, listen for Him...believe in Him (and into Him)...through His word...because He is the One...sent from God. And find yourself in Jesus Christ...where God dwells with man. A man. That man.
You ask "how do I know its not a malevolent force I have listened to?" Well, to be truthful, because I have. I have fallen for many voices. And the children such wisdom beget...to me were not healthful, at all. I do not need to "figure out" when I am hungry, sick, or in desperation. When those things become painfully clear to me...(and they do still quite frequently) I don't have to "figure out" there's something to me, amiss. As the body speaks...so does the Spirit...for when I am in need, I lack.
To say it used to be "I lack something" (and still does occasionally), all the more it is becoming "I am missing Him" somewhere...somewhere in this hunger, lack, pain, desperation. His appearing is the remedy, His manifestation the cure. But it is no trick...that summons Him, no working up...some form of a deal. I hunger to death...and He shows up. I don't know how to go to that place, nor is it even in my will...to want to. I don't even know I am headed there, as I go. I often think "I have enough for this next step" and move into that completely new moment of all unknowing to find "No. No I don't have what I thought I had for this moment, I must find Him...now"
Who wants to be blessed with hunger? Who can see the blessing in being blind? Who wants to appear so small as needing always to be led?
But...when He appears (because He is the resurrection...and the life) it all makes far more perfect sense...than I can begin to express.
It's never that He wasn't...or isn't there...but that the training of hunger might do its work...to find who is always there, here, everywhere...filling all...even in what appears the darkness of all my not knowing.
Do I "have to believe this", because of the Bible?
A man seeking to find the way home and out of the miasma of darkness is glad for every sign of help.
I hope to be planting corn tomorrow. In that hope lies another, the hope to see first the blade, then the ear, and then the full corn in the ear. And all I need do is to continue in hope. I have tasted its absence, and God forbid it.
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ambush80
Senior Member
Wow.
When I asked you if Jesus can vomit cotton candy or if it were written in the Bible that he did would you believe it you went into a tailspin. A simple yes or no would suffice and then you could bloviate all you wanted. The question itself seems ridiculous but the problem is that it's not anymore ridiculous than asking if Jesus rose from the dead. That's why Peterson has such trouble answering it.
Now you're struggling, struggling to remain coherent. People don't rise from the dead or vomit cotton candy or shoot laser beams out of their eyes or fly or walk on water.
ambush80
Senior Member
Isreal,
You seem to have an easier time gaining purchase in the discussion upstairs about whether the streets in Heaven are made of actual gold.
You seem to have an easier time gaining purchase in the discussion upstairs about whether the streets in Heaven are made of actual gold.
Israel
BANNED
OK, that's cool.
Can Jesus vomit cotton candy?
It seems very important to you.
What Jesus indeed says He does vomit is at least as important to me. At least I think so.
This is not "one for me, one for you"...God knows...you may even be more interested in the cotton candy question than I am in Jesus, altogether.
Or, perhaps in that, your motives are far more pure. Again, God knows.
Last night, when thinking about you, me, these discussions (even over years now) what might be their motives and purpose, and even to all the things that I can recall having been said (for I surely can't recall all and every word) I saw a distillation. But, it only came out of the dark.
Tell me if I see wrongly.
In how many appeals has it been made in some form of fashion "No, please tell me...it's important to me, I too do want to know if you have anything that can persuade me toward this god you say you know. I'm willing to be persuaded...let's carry on in discussion".
or
"I am open to having this god reveal himself, he would know how to reach me"
Am I wrong? Even though that is surely not verbatim, does the phrasing of that not have at least...some familiarity?
The words imply an openness to correction, (or at least being corrected to a discovery) an openness to hearing.
And so conversations often continue.
Yet there are some who frankly say, as they have every right to...(and may actually be more honest in their brokerage)
"Why don't you guys just stay upstairs in the other forum and leave us alone?" (more or less)
or, in another succinct form (and this guy is, at least, as honest as he can be, if not truthful)
I say not truthful cause I know several "upstairs" who fall not one whit behind any elsewhere (even down here) by any metric of intelligence one cares to proffer.
But that is quite neither here nor there. My own intelligence has, of necessity, been insulted rightly in a light I cannot begin to fathom. So, for me, what once seemed so grand and bejeweled is now tarnished beyond repair...and the truth of a man, if it be in a man (and not his intellect) is far more captivating. Really clever villains are a dime a dozen, but I had to see just how very common I am, myself, first...as that. Con men always compete against each other for what they are only allowed to see (because they are con men)...limited resource.
Nevertheless, discussions and conversations seem to continue. From apparent...yet perhaps not truly, opposite sides.
But...do we want honest brokerage? And it's perhaps more salutary to a soul to admit..."well, maybe I don't really, maybe I am more truly engaged solely for conflict's sake...that's the fun of it"
(For young men are not infrequently full of pizz and vinegar, and gotta do something with it)
Do I doubt you find me incoherent? Not at all. I am often, even to myself, so. Coherency, consistency, at least to oneself, seem to have great motive power. We want to smooth out the bumps... minimize glare (and the glaring) from our windshield. (Things seen in our eyes transmitted out by a deeper working in mind)
We all know (do we not?) what shifty eyes indicate. Do any of us think we can hide them?
I am on difficult ground here, so I do not know if this can be said without offense. And though I may say I don't desire to offend merely for offense's sake, I can easily be shown a liar. But I have found (at least for myself...) the greatest of once offense to me has proved remarkably comforting. I needed offending, and God knows how much I yet do. Somehow it is ordained that being offended, can turn into a door way.
But to be honest (even if I be found not truthful) when speaking to you, I am not sure if I ever hear much beyond (despite all pleadings otherwise)
"No really...tell me, I have an interest in these things...
along with...all the other stupid, absurd, preposterous things I am convinced you believe"
Do you see how that might cut short a day of fishing, or at least conversation (if only for a time) of two men..."sitting in a boat?" (and what would that do at the Easter dinner table, bro?)
Hey, is that my own pizz and vinegar talking?
You're no dope. But we may both be too clever for one another by half.
Yet I am convinced, despite this, an equity is prevailing, a justice and a just meeting "out from it" (Him) will show us both on most common of grounds. And my ground does not exceed yours...we are both simply talking dirt. Earth...mud...with a voice. And neither of us, try as we might so strenuously, can ever really show the "all" that is going on inside...because we do not even...know. (Nor even how much is allowed to take place inside dirt)
Nor, how dirt can so be arranged...to talk.
Nevertheless...we do.
Or...do we?
Dirt...probing dirt?
If we are quite sure dirt is the full end of it, with nothing beyond...nothing else...at all, and one is fully convinced one knows all there is to possibly know about dirt (Look! Science explains dirt!)...and all its truth is laid bare there, conclusive, ended, finished (and fully again, convinced of that) who might be less than truthful in their motive for probing?
Nevertheless, I listen...for something more. And yes, I am being taught that, by the something more than dirt, yet willing to appear in it. The quality of a dust, a one dust I have seen, and heard, and heard from, is unlike any other. I can't deny it. (and only by grace...won't)
He is the truest of scientists...in that He alone truly knows all about the dirt. He even...tells on his own dirt..."of myself, I can do nothing"!
But hey, I'm no master. Just looking and listening from what may rise up out of...the dirt.
He...did. And does.
And having been granted such a sight...who wouldn't need to know "how does That do that" This is surely worth all knowing.
Yes, the resurrection is keystone...no wonder men struggle about it.
From bricklayers and janitors to nurses and Hawkingsesque intellects. All are on quite common ground...before it.
And in...quite common ground.
All...locked up...in dirt.
Before...
No laser beams...but this:
Then I saw heaven standing open, and there before me was a white horse. And its rider is called Faithful and True. With righteousness He judges and wages war. He has eyes like blazing fire...
I tell you...His eyes do not shift.
How can a man know this? Learn this? The same way I did.
I found Him watching when I was not looking. And even presently...when I am not looking.
"Come and meet a man who told me all I ever did!"
Continue in your experiment...it's ordained...to you. There is no "opting out".
There is...no other stream.
Yes, it hurts to look into His eyes...till it doesn't.
Can Jesus vomit cotton candy?
It seems very important to you.
What Jesus indeed says He does vomit is at least as important to me. At least I think so.
This is not "one for me, one for you"...God knows...you may even be more interested in the cotton candy question than I am in Jesus, altogether.
Or, perhaps in that, your motives are far more pure. Again, God knows.
Last night, when thinking about you, me, these discussions (even over years now) what might be their motives and purpose, and even to all the things that I can recall having been said (for I surely can't recall all and every word) I saw a distillation. But, it only came out of the dark.
Tell me if I see wrongly.
In how many appeals has it been made in some form of fashion "No, please tell me...it's important to me, I too do want to know if you have anything that can persuade me toward this god you say you know. I'm willing to be persuaded...let's carry on in discussion".
or
"I am open to having this god reveal himself, he would know how to reach me"
Am I wrong? Even though that is surely not verbatim, does the phrasing of that not have at least...some familiarity?
The words imply an openness to correction, (or at least being corrected to a discovery) an openness to hearing.
And so conversations often continue.
Yet there are some who frankly say, as they have every right to...(and may actually be more honest in their brokerage)
"Why don't you guys just stay upstairs in the other forum and leave us alone?" (more or less)
or, in another succinct form (and this guy is, at least, as honest as he can be, if not truthful)
(italics mine)
I say not truthful cause I know several "upstairs" who fall not one whit behind any elsewhere (even down here) by any metric of intelligence one cares to proffer.
But that is quite neither here nor there. My own intelligence has, of necessity, been insulted rightly in a light I cannot begin to fathom. So, for me, what once seemed so grand and bejeweled is now tarnished beyond repair...and the truth of a man, if it be in a man (and not his intellect) is far more captivating. Really clever villains are a dime a dozen, but I had to see just how very common I am, myself, first...as that. Con men always compete against each other for what they are only allowed to see (because they are con men)...limited resource.
Nevertheless, discussions and conversations seem to continue. From apparent...yet perhaps not truly, opposite sides.
But...do we want honest brokerage? And it's perhaps more salutary to a soul to admit..."well, maybe I don't really, maybe I am more truly engaged solely for conflict's sake...that's the fun of it"
(For young men are not infrequently full of pizz and vinegar, and gotta do something with it)
Do I doubt you find me incoherent? Not at all. I am often, even to myself, so. Coherency, consistency, at least to oneself, seem to have great motive power. We want to smooth out the bumps... minimize glare (and the glaring) from our windshield. (Things seen in our eyes transmitted out by a deeper working in mind)
We all know (do we not?) what shifty eyes indicate. Do any of us think we can hide them?
I am on difficult ground here, so I do not know if this can be said without offense. And though I may say I don't desire to offend merely for offense's sake, I can easily be shown a liar. But I have found (at least for myself...) the greatest of once offense to me has proved remarkably comforting. I needed offending, and God knows how much I yet do. Somehow it is ordained that being offended, can turn into a door way.
But to be honest (even if I be found not truthful) when speaking to you, I am not sure if I ever hear much beyond (despite all pleadings otherwise)
"No really...tell me, I have an interest in these things...
along with...all the other stupid, absurd, preposterous things I am convinced you believe"
Do you see how that might cut short a day of fishing, or at least conversation (if only for a time) of two men..."sitting in a boat?" (and what would that do at the Easter dinner table, bro?)
Hey, is that my own pizz and vinegar talking?
You're no dope. But we may both be too clever for one another by half.
Yet I am convinced, despite this, an equity is prevailing, a justice and a just meeting "out from it" (Him) will show us both on most common of grounds. And my ground does not exceed yours...we are both simply talking dirt. Earth...mud...with a voice. And neither of us, try as we might so strenuously, can ever really show the "all" that is going on inside...because we do not even...know. (Nor even how much is allowed to take place inside dirt)
Nor, how dirt can so be arranged...to talk.
Nevertheless...we do.
Or...do we?
Dirt...probing dirt?
If we are quite sure dirt is the full end of it, with nothing beyond...nothing else...at all, and one is fully convinced one knows all there is to possibly know about dirt (Look! Science explains dirt!)...and all its truth is laid bare there, conclusive, ended, finished (and fully again, convinced of that) who might be less than truthful in their motive for probing?
Nevertheless, I listen...for something more. And yes, I am being taught that, by the something more than dirt, yet willing to appear in it. The quality of a dust, a one dust I have seen, and heard, and heard from, is unlike any other. I can't deny it. (and only by grace...won't)
He is the truest of scientists...in that He alone truly knows all about the dirt. He even...tells on his own dirt..."of myself, I can do nothing"!
But hey, I'm no master. Just looking and listening from what may rise up out of...the dirt.
He...did. And does.
And having been granted such a sight...who wouldn't need to know "how does That do that" This is surely worth all knowing.
Yes, the resurrection is keystone...no wonder men struggle about it.
From bricklayers and janitors to nurses and Hawkingsesque intellects. All are on quite common ground...before it.
And in...quite common ground.
All...locked up...in dirt.
Before...
No laser beams...but this:
Then I saw heaven standing open, and there before me was a white horse. And its rider is called Faithful and True. With righteousness He judges and wages war. He has eyes like blazing fire...
I tell you...His eyes do not shift.
How can a man know this? Learn this? The same way I did.
I found Him watching when I was not looking. And even presently...when I am not looking.
"Come and meet a man who told me all I ever did!"
Continue in your experiment...it's ordained...to you. There is no "opting out".
There is...no other stream.
Yes, it hurts to look into His eyes...till it doesn't.
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Israel
BANNED
You know I do love surprises. And just beginning to learn how awkward I can be found in them, for they are de facto manifestation of my "not knowing"...even in the simplest of things.
I realize how easy it is for someone to come back with "hey ...don't you know men have already come up with a way for dirt to talk...and even think?" (Silicon surely qualifies, no? with electronic propulsion)
I'm gonna say that like some of our conversations, in the short term it might be entertaining. But in a longer view, a far less goodness than mere entertainment, will manifest. And if you and I, today, could see all those consequences, I'm pretty convinced we wouldn't like them. (Yeah, I'm not equipped to live in the future, only now. Like only ...right now.)
But, if such is allowed to persist...I am just as reasonably assured that to those who creep up to these changes, and consequences, they will seem just as necessary, salubrious, and good...as breathing. They would marvel that anyone might find them...less than absolutely wonderful.
We might even wonder if there was anything that could be said in any form of communication that might get through from the "here" to the that...there.
To dismiss a man's way of living...is fundamentally to dismiss the man himself. Who hears past..."but, you are wrong!"? With appropriate battlements now being erected instead of honest discourse. What leaves us more vulnerable...than honesty? But what do we also find we cannot live well, without? My brothers need no explanation of this. They already have heard...and survived the rebuke of their way of life, though they thought they would die. And they continue to admit to chastenings. And rebuke. And the love they have discovered in them.
No, I am heartily convinced...dirt machines inventing other dirt machines, to appear to teach other dirt machines to now think...even for them...is not good, not good at all.
It is to me, most good, that the Maker of both the original dirt, out of which he chose to make dirt machines always intended a something better (not of dirt)...to be revealed in His proper time. But for this He had to be wrapped in dirt that He might get a few words in edgewise. We simply don't, and can't admit to that from which we find nothing in relation...at all. So, even Neil Tyson concedes to being stardust...reaching out...to relate in some form to what he acknowledges.
Yet, I can't help but wonder if presented with a mason jar of dust and told..."I might just as well listen to this jar...as to you"...if, or how, Neil might respond. Especially if confronted in conviction of no levity. No...cleverness. (The man knowing he is no wiser than a bag of rocks might have that particularly greater advantage in the seeing of peace)
And he might just be the only one able to say it...without cleverness or levity.
One has to go back before the beginning of what is seen and known to know, as it were, the "good old days". Only One knows the Way. Cause He is it.
And then see...why even dirt was made, and with what perfect care and attention. To each and every bit of dust unseen, but there...waiting to give up its being for knowledge of being. Have you been to the dark side of the moon? What did you see? Is being there...too? Are you trying to find it...or escape it? Do you look into black holes? What do you think you may find...that is beyond the knowledge surrendered by the merest speck of dust? Will you go smaller? Show your intent of diligence in search? Will you search out atoms? Will you try to break them to find out what's waiting to be found in them? Open them up, rip them apart by whatever means possible...to see what power is really, but unseen inside?
I know someone...who did that. Related well, and perfectly to dust...to those with the wisdom of a bag of rocks...because He beheld their Maker. And of course...submitted to their ultimate experiment...upon Himself. So that what (really Who) was inside...might be made freely known to men.
I realize how easy it is for someone to come back with "hey ...don't you know men have already come up with a way for dirt to talk...and even think?" (Silicon surely qualifies, no? with electronic propulsion)
I'm gonna say that like some of our conversations, in the short term it might be entertaining. But in a longer view, a far less goodness than mere entertainment, will manifest. And if you and I, today, could see all those consequences, I'm pretty convinced we wouldn't like them. (Yeah, I'm not equipped to live in the future, only now. Like only ...right now.)
But, if such is allowed to persist...I am just as reasonably assured that to those who creep up to these changes, and consequences, they will seem just as necessary, salubrious, and good...as breathing. They would marvel that anyone might find them...less than absolutely wonderful.
We might even wonder if there was anything that could be said in any form of communication that might get through from the "here" to the that...there.
To dismiss a man's way of living...is fundamentally to dismiss the man himself. Who hears past..."but, you are wrong!"? With appropriate battlements now being erected instead of honest discourse. What leaves us more vulnerable...than honesty? But what do we also find we cannot live well, without? My brothers need no explanation of this. They already have heard...and survived the rebuke of their way of life, though they thought they would die. And they continue to admit to chastenings. And rebuke. And the love they have discovered in them.
No, I am heartily convinced...dirt machines inventing other dirt machines, to appear to teach other dirt machines to now think...even for them...is not good, not good at all.
It is to me, most good, that the Maker of both the original dirt, out of which he chose to make dirt machines always intended a something better (not of dirt)...to be revealed in His proper time. But for this He had to be wrapped in dirt that He might get a few words in edgewise. We simply don't, and can't admit to that from which we find nothing in relation...at all. So, even Neil Tyson concedes to being stardust...reaching out...to relate in some form to what he acknowledges.
Yet, I can't help but wonder if presented with a mason jar of dust and told..."I might just as well listen to this jar...as to you"...if, or how, Neil might respond. Especially if confronted in conviction of no levity. No...cleverness. (The man knowing he is no wiser than a bag of rocks might have that particularly greater advantage in the seeing of peace)
And he might just be the only one able to say it...without cleverness or levity.
One has to go back before the beginning of what is seen and known to know, as it were, the "good old days". Only One knows the Way. Cause He is it.
And then see...why even dirt was made, and with what perfect care and attention. To each and every bit of dust unseen, but there...waiting to give up its being for knowledge of being. Have you been to the dark side of the moon? What did you see? Is being there...too? Are you trying to find it...or escape it? Do you look into black holes? What do you think you may find...that is beyond the knowledge surrendered by the merest speck of dust? Will you go smaller? Show your intent of diligence in search? Will you search out atoms? Will you try to break them to find out what's waiting to be found in them? Open them up, rip them apart by whatever means possible...to see what power is really, but unseen inside?
I know someone...who did that. Related well, and perfectly to dust...to those with the wisdom of a bag of rocks...because He beheld their Maker. And of course...submitted to their ultimate experiment...upon Himself. So that what (really Who) was inside...might be made freely known to men.
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bullethead
Of the hard cast variety
Israel
BANNED
OM
There are no such things as small prayers. Just...prayer.
Not more than a few minutes ago my six year old granddaughter spoke this to my wife as she showered her...in what can only be considered as against her will.
"You are messing up my life".
I've said the same, Oh, so very often. Just not quite so clearly and perhaps, not so honestly.
ambush80
Senior Member
I'm anticipating an "I wish you were dead!" or a "Why did I have to be born?"
Israel
BANNED
Yeah...it's kinda funny ain't it...
Except I've said those very things...
I remember a time when I was so misguided as a believer...a "christian" (I am not at all sure what that word means to me anymore, let alone what others think of it in their usage) that finding so much of frustration and "losing"...demands at every turn...demanding response...I would hear this phrase, which when repeated (if ever repeated out loud) I would always accompany with a light hearted laughter.
It was this: "God...are you just trying to take advantage of my good nature?"
Yeah...as a christian I was learning the subtleties of complaint. Too afraid to say "why don't you just leave me alone...?" Too afraid to probably say...cause I was not ready to hear the answer.
Now, I thought in some way it was funny cause I knew apart from Him (at least scripturally) I had no "good nature" to be taken advantage of. Yeah, I knew to be a "good christian" I had to believe the scriptures...nevertheless all I felt was incursion, constant (it seemed) disruption of what seemed "my plans"...and all I most often seemed aware of was a very harsh and demanding hand upon me.
I used to muse again..."a few sheep and goats, turtle doves and bullocks would be so much easier". Why the big change needed?
It really wasn't much help (or so I thought) to consider at the time how necessary chastening was, as written again, in the scripture. After all, I was now a "christian", where's this peace that passes understanding? Where's this joy unspeakable and full of glory?
Oh, outwardly I put on the best face, grinning like an idiot (it seemed to me belonging to the club demanded it) and I was determined to shine with the best of them. But...inwardly...
My grim determination to be "as good as" that I couldn't see as anything less than right motive, was so much of unbelief and therefore a rebellion of sorts, that I sincerely doubt that at that time, I could have borne having it revealed to me...plainly. It was very important to be a "good believer". So I was compelled to keep throwing myself against this unbudge-able rock.
Now, you might be inclined, as I once had been tempted, to say "see that's all that christianity does, it encourages a facade" And I still cannot deny that what may remain in any of a "clublike" mentality, a tribal mentality...(in me, or any other) is needing a liberty from it. I can feel now...quite plainly when a false smile begins to creep up in situations that seem to demand one to grease the wheels. I notice it at work more often than not where things are very plainly...expected to "get along".
And I don't think any of us much care to sense that feeling of being "an outsider". Who wants the tribe to leave us on the side of the road? A crazy? But, I think we can also admit...as much as we may have a desire to "belong"...there's another pull toward individuality in the mix, maybe equally as strong "I won't surrender my identity!" when I sense it being tugged at. How can these ever be reconciled? How can I ever "come to peace" within myself?
Nobody (perhaps) wants to be robotic, yet even the grimmest of the "lone wolves" are still looking for that place where they feel "at home". We might ask...or wonder...what friends did someone like a Ted Bundy have to make around himself (or a Hitler, or a ______fill in the blank) to keep going? What voices inside soothed them? And allowed them to keep from running naked, filleting themselves and as bat-poop crazy down the street as we may be convinced they were. How could they...to any...appear...reasonable? And manifestly do...what they have done. "I've got a great idea...let's go to war with the whole world...like right now, bro!"
"And look! while we're at it, we can abuse with impunity all the folks we don't like...or think are not...like us!"
I'd laugh...except I know the appeal...all too well.
bullethead
Of the hard cast variety
What did my comment to your meltdown above have to do with prayer?
Israel
BANNED
O-M-G...maybe a true cry from a heart that can't believe what takes place...is even allowed place...in the world. Your world.
Your consternation was not only palpable...but made illustrable.
:
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bullethead
Of the hard cast variety
O-M-G...maybe a true cry from a heart that can't believe what takes place...is even allowed place...in the world. Your world.
Your consternation was not only palpable...but made illustrable.
:
No need to make it into something it was not like usual.
Your levels of meltdown make Chernobyl envious.
Israel
BANNED
you see a God? Nah, nothing here but us...how bout those really smart bubbles...what are they saying...?
Hey! stop it, you got a little bit of you...on me...you lookin' for a fight?
(translation mine)
bullethead
Of the hard cast variety
Finally some sense made.
Thank you
Israel
BANNED
yes...we are just that until...
And perhaps that is the matter. We are just dust, just dirt and water mixed...you and I, my dust, your dust, his dust, their dust...all dust. Yet there seems a contest of dusty will, there seems a will in the dust to be "better dust", knowing dust.
Prizes it seems, but also all of no more than dust, go to what can convince other dust ...it sees good, or better, or best.
This convincing so often comes down at the end of a spear. Which dust has the most power? Which dust can bend things to its will? Who will gather the most dust to themselves? Who can gather, if it be possible...all? And control it, keep it?
Alexander the Great Dust? Did much in dust...but fell.
We can name as many others as we care to.
Dust out to conquer other...dust. This fight can keep us busy. Allow us to think we are doing...things. Perhaps even tell us...we are making progress as dust. Even right up to the silencing of our dust. Then, all dust looks quite the same. All silent, all ready (no...there is no "readiness"...only an undeniable compelling, an irresistible reduction) to give up their final and elemental secret they sought so to hide while they had an allowance of motion among other dust.
I have only met two men in my entire life. One who strenuously tries (through all illegitimate motions) to be more than dust, and one who sees, and has pity upon dust in that struggle. By giving up, and being made willing, his own dust...to show. To display. On a stick. He never denied that struggle, or does...He simply won in it.
A prize dust could never care to win, nor could ever even imagine is there to be won...unless shown.
One man says "eat my dust" to the manifest shame of losing to my excelling.
One man stopped, and stops, for the hungry.
I only know two.
And the seeing of the second man takes away all the shame of admitting to being the first. It just can't help itself.
And perhaps that is the matter. We are just dust, just dirt and water mixed...you and I, my dust, your dust, his dust, their dust...all dust. Yet there seems a contest of dusty will, there seems a will in the dust to be "better dust", knowing dust.
Prizes it seems, but also all of no more than dust, go to what can convince other dust ...it sees good, or better, or best.
This convincing so often comes down at the end of a spear. Which dust has the most power? Which dust can bend things to its will? Who will gather the most dust to themselves? Who can gather, if it be possible...all? And control it, keep it?
Alexander the Great Dust? Did much in dust...but fell.
We can name as many others as we care to.
Dust out to conquer other...dust. This fight can keep us busy. Allow us to think we are doing...things. Perhaps even tell us...we are making progress as dust. Even right up to the silencing of our dust. Then, all dust looks quite the same. All silent, all ready (no...there is no "readiness"...only an undeniable compelling, an irresistible reduction) to give up their final and elemental secret they sought so to hide while they had an allowance of motion among other dust.
I have only met two men in my entire life. One who strenuously tries (through all illegitimate motions) to be more than dust, and one who sees, and has pity upon dust in that struggle. By giving up, and being made willing, his own dust...to show. To display. On a stick. He never denied that struggle, or does...He simply won in it.
A prize dust could never care to win, nor could ever even imagine is there to be won...unless shown.
One man says "eat my dust" to the manifest shame of losing to my excelling.
One man stopped, and stops, for the hungry.
I only know two.
And the seeing of the second man takes away all the shame of admitting to being the first. It just can't help itself.
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bullethead
Of the hard cast variety
I speak softly and carry a swiffer. Dust is of no concern to me.
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Israel
BANNED
Yes, I once thought I spoke softly, too. So soft I thought that I was the only one who could hear...me.
But it was made plain...all that takes place, even in the dust, inside the dust (where it may think none can hear) will come out. The Hearer of all knows what the dust speaks...even to itself.
For everything is open and laid bare before Him with whom we have to do.
Neither of us has a choice in that.
(BTW, I was compelled to amend the post you quoted...update if it seems better to you to do so)
bullethead
Of the hard cast variety
No need for a big swiffer. Fake dust isnt dust.
