Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Jesus rode a Harley Davidson

This is a partial reprint of a post from my facebook friend, and OMG, he hits a bunch of nails squarely on the head with this one. I have picked his observations regarding “religion” and “Jesus”, because it just about mirrors my sentiments on the subject. The remainder of this missile can be found under his name, on Facebook. It is a long read, but one that can easily be taken in sections, and well worth the read.

Facebook © 2012

The Center for an Informed America

[Random Thoughts at the Dawn of the Year 2012, February 13, 2012]

I thought I’d begin this rant by sharing some of my thoughts on the historical figure known as Jesus of Nazareth. I think we can all agree that, unlike some of the other subjects I have weighed in on in the past, this is one on which people do not tend to have strongly held points-of-view, so there is little chance that I will offend and alienate readers right off the bat.

So let’s jump right into it then with observation #1: When the likely outcome of an unwed pregnancy is death by stoning, people can be really creative liars.

Nothing in the least bit controversial about that … right? Let’s move on then to observation #2: It is fully understandable why the lie was told, and even why many people in that era might have believed it; what is more difficult to understand is why tens of millions of people around the world still believe it 2,000 years later.

I doubt that I’ve lost anyone yet, so let’s quickly move on to observation #3: Jesus was initially described as coming from a line of men who worked with their hands, which was later interpreted to mean that he was a carpenter. Given though that the primary building materials in the land of his birth were sand and rock, it is far more likely that Joseph and his sons were stone masons. Just saying …

Observation #4: Jesus of Nazareth’s real father was undoubtedly a Roman citizen. Some have speculated that he was the product of rape by one of the notoriously ruthless Roman storm-troopers, but his later actions suggest to this completely impartial observer that it was more likely a consensual coupling and that the father was someone of considerably more importance than a mere soldier.

Observation #5: Jesus was very likely a controlled Roman asset. Just as, nearly two thousand years later, the obviously controlled asset known as Jesse Jackson replaced the slain Martin Luther King, and the equally controlled asset known as Louis Farrakhan replaced the eliminated Malcolm X, so it was that Jesus was maneuvered into position to replace the executed John the Baptist, who had, I’m guessing, become a bit of a problem for the Roman overseers.

The message that the emergent messiah delivered to those living under the brutal hand of those Roman occupiers was, by any rational analysis, exactly the wrong one. It was a message brimming with advice about loving neighbors and turning cheeks … a message that constantly reinforced the notion that it was better to be poor and oppressed than wealthy and powerful, for the poor, you see, were going to spend all eternity in the glorious ‘Kingdom of Heaven,’ while the rich were going to burn in the fires of Hell (unless they were somehow able to steer their camels through the eye of a needle, or something like that).

It was, in other words, a belief system seemingly designed specifically to suppress any thoughts of rebellion amongst the unwashed masses. And the beauty of it was that no one would find out if the fabled Kingdom of Heaven actually existed until it was too late for them to get a refund.

I know what you’re thinking here: “But Dave, didn’t the Romans execute Jesus, and do so in a horrifically brutal and sadistic manner – you know, like in that Mel Gibson torture-porn flick?”

Maybe they did and maybe they didn’t. Even if they did, that would not necessarily prove that Jesus was not a covert Roman operative. Most all assets are expendable if they become more valuable dead than alive. And it’s pretty clear that for the last couple thousand years, Jesus has proven his value as a dead martyr. But was he crucified? I tend to doubt that he was.

Consider that Mr. Nazareth was alone by choice when apprehended. He had supposedly wandered into a garden to gather his thoughts, or some such thing, allowing Roman authorities to conveniently apprehend him quietly and without incident. It was almost as if he had turned himself in, knowing that he was in safe hands. The most likely scenario is that he was replaced with a look-alike at the private palace of Pontius Pilate, where he was taken to supposedly be tried and convicted (so to speak).

Bear in mind that whoever had the misfortune of resembling Jesus needn’t have been all that close of a double. By the time he was beaten, whipped and outfitted with a custom crown of thorns, the battered, bruised and bloody body would undoubtedly have been all but unrecognizable. And following the crucifixion, as we all know, the body, uhmm, disappeared. Because it was, you know, resurrected from the dead. Or because it had to be disposed of before anyone caught on that it wasn’t really Jesus.

Personally, I’m going with option #2, primarily because I am not familiar with any documented cases of bodies being resurrected from the dead and I’m not really into taking huge leaps of faith. But maybe that’s just me.

As previously noted, the tactics deployed by the Romans circa 32 AD bear many similarities to the psychological warfare operations carried out today. And why wouldn’t they? After all, not much has changed in the last 2,000 years, including the identities of our overlords. I’m not much sold, as it turns out, on the notion that great empires rise and fall. Since at least biblical times, as best I can determine, there has only been one empire, though the perceived center of power has shifted in what basically amounts to a shell game.

The Roman Empire, in other words, did not fall just as its offspring, the British Empire, began to rise, nor did the British Empire fall just as its offspring, the American Empire, began to rise. No, the Roman Empire quite obviously transformed itself into the British Empire, which in turn used smoke and mirrors to create the ‘new’ American empire by sending a bunch of wealthy Masons posing as ‘Pilgrims’ over to the ‘New World’ and then later staging a patently fake ‘Revolutionary War.’ I mean, really people, do you honestly believe that the mighty British Empire, at the height of its power and with a formidable navy at its disposal, was unable to suppress a ragtag rebellion that most colonists had little interest in participating in?

And is it, after all, just a coincidence that the British countryside is littered with Roman ruins? Or that the Eastern Roman Empire fell, according to historians, circa 1453 AD, while the British Empire began its rise, according to those same historians, around 1497 AD? And is it also a coincidence that the British Imperial Century (which followed the 1st British Empire [1583-1783] and the 2nd British Empire [1783-1815]) ended in 1914, while the rise of the American Empire (never actually referred to as such) is generally pegged to the United States’ entry into World War I circa 1917?

And is it just a coincidence that the overwhelming majority of American presidents have been descended from royal British bloodlines? Speaking of American presidents, this seems like a good time to segue into a discussion of who our next fearless leader will be.
And, he goes on into a few other comments on the state of current affairs as he sees them.


We are being warned of that which is happening right now. If “We The Peeps” don’t call this hand in the very near future, we will have absolutely nothing to say about democracy in this Nation. Your vote counts. This year it counts a lot! Please don’t sit home and watch the World pass you by this November.
From my e-mail, 09/26/2012:


        POLITICO Influence []

        By Dave Levinthal and Anna Palmer, With Tarini Parti


          BOOK WATCH:

        Democratic political consultant Douglas E. Schoen is out with a new book, "Hopelessly Divided," and if you plunk down $27 to buy it, pay particular attention to chapters 10 and 11 - 47 pages worth of scathing commentary on the nation's campaign finance and lobbying realms.


        The lobbying chapter, titled "The K Street Effect," concludes with this ominous warning about the influence industry: "The bottom line is this: Without radical change, we will see more abuses, more shocking scandals and more calls for ethics reforms in the future. ... The one constant will be that average citizens will continue to have less and less impact on the way their lawmakers conduct public policy. Of this I am certain."


Sunday, September 23, 2012

Seven days in Big Sky country:

Day #1 – Surprised James at a restaurant lunch after Jamey had picked me up at the airport. This three year old makes his grandfather so happy when he gives me the big James Hug. He wraps his arms around my neck and hugs with more force and determination than I’m used to from anyone else. And, of course, he sat right by me for lunch. I don’t know what, if anything, I did right in this World, but I am blessed with three of most loving, loveable grandchildren. (And, I have another one to look forward to in October.)

Day #2 – The first of three birthday parties for James was at the Gymnastics Center in Missoula. Lots of running, bouncing, swinging, and jumping kept all the fifteen, or so, kids very busy. The activities served to calm them all down for cake and ice cream and present opening. I couldn’t take enough pictures of all the hustle and bustle.
I was able to get out shopping with James, and procured some presents that he highly recommended.

Day #3 – This was a day that will live in infamy. It started out like any other sleepy Sunday morning. I had some of Missoula’s finest coffee, started playing with James and his new stash of toys. We got to open the presents I had purchased the day before. I was looking out the glass doors which lead to the deck, and noticed that I couldn’t see the mountains to the West of town. Not more than an hour passed, and I noticed that I couldn’t see the West side of Missoula, which is very unusual for a September day in Montana.

As the day progressed, I started feeling a little light headed, which was followed by an unusual shortness of breath, which, in turn, was followed by my hands and feet getting cold and numb. I wasn’t too concerned as I my focus was totally on playing with James. By the time dinner plans were hatched, I really wasn’t feeling good at all. So, I begged out of joining everyone for dinner, and crawled into bed to weather the storm. At some point I had the urge to take care of nature, and found that I wasn’t doing the walking thing very well. My head was spinning; I felt nauseous; I felt very weak; I started into a cold sweat; and, now I was getting worried that my general health was headed South.

I raised Jamey on the phone, and suggested he call 911 to get me an ambulance over to the Hospital. In very short order the ambulance came, and whisked me off to Emergency Room at the same Hospital James was born in three years prior. Jamey followed and stayed by my side until all emergency tests were completed and I was assigned a room. I had to boot him out around midnight.

Jamey left me for what was left of the night and I had tubes/IV’s/Inhalers coming at me and in me from all directions. I got zero sleep, but I must say they were treating me like royalty. Just before breakfast I noticed that I was being tended to by some of prettiest nurses I have ever had the pleasure of doing business with. These young women were not only drop dead gorgeous, but also very intelligent, highly skilled, and incredibly attentive. This part of the trip was definitely a win/win situation.


Day #4 - I was lucky enough to be assigned a Doctor who was also in the Air Force Reserve as a Flight Surgeon. He went out of his way to take excellent care of this old Warrior. I was also lucky enough to get a private room, which worked out very well for visiting hours. Jamey, Katie, and James were allowed to visit at any time of the day and for however long they so chose.

While discussing my condition with my Doctor, I was appraised of the fact that my blood-oxygen level was 48% when I arrived at the Emergency Room. I know from experience that 48% is pretty close to checking out for good. Well, they brought me back, and did it in short order. For that alone, I am deeply indebted to the entire Staff. About then I decided to take a peak out the window and saw nothing but a blanket of smoke settling on the town. Thank God I was inside and under the expert care of the Doctors, Nurses, and the rest of the Staff. James arrived with Katie and he had specially wrapped up some jelly beans for his old Poppa. We devoured them and I made a point of telling him how much I appreciated his love and concern.

One point of interest that I was not aware of was the fact that large doses of steroids tend to spike your blood sugar levels. Mine had spiked to 265 which I was told wasn’t very good. So, in comes the Insulin Nurse to stick me with more needles. After six shots of Insulin to the belly, my blood sugar level was back down to 85.

Day #5 – “Heavens to Mergatroid”, the tubes and IV’s started coming out; the doses of steroids were drastically decreased; and, I actually started to feel better. I was able to walk around in the corridors and get a little exercise, which helped speed the feeling better. I found out that the Hospital was not going to release me without hooking me up with a portable oxygen concentrator. Oh boy, was this fun! I’m glad I have unlimited minutes on my cell phone. Many calls were placed and received with a surprisingly great outcome. The V.A. Hospital in New York City agreed to send me a portable unit, and they did it “over night”. Wow, even I was impressed. I finally got a good night’s sleep to enter the next, and final day, at the Hospital.

Day #6 – Jamey stopped by early with a large container of really good coffee, and the paper work for my release got started. To my amazement, the paper trail went very smoothly and efficiently, and I was free to go just after noon o’clock with a portable oxygen concentrator in tow. I got to say a fond farewell to the Nursing Staff, and off I went; back to the Dubosque household. What an incredible relief! The cloud of fire smoke still hung over the town, so I was assigned inside duty for the rest of the day.

An hour after I got back,I was looking out the kitchen window when suddenly a large column of black smoke shot up into the air one street up the hill. All I could think of was, “God damn it! I can’t get away from this smoke thing.” Turned out that a fish fry on a gas grill went awry and totally torched the house (I did sneak out to get pictures). I held my own for the remainder of the day, and seriously chow‘d down on Jamey’s special Macaroni and Cheese with diced Honey glazed ham.

I had an interesting few hours trying to get flight authorization from Delta to be able to bring the portable oxygen unit onboard my flight home. My favorite daughter-in-law was my savior on this exercise; she made it all happen with a lot of going here and going there. This was definitely a point at which my “Anger Meter” was getting very close to 10, and, if were not for Katie, I might well have surpassed that high water mark. Thankfully, Dr. Mendelsohn’s Anger Management Classes also came to the fore, and I was able to deal with the situation, bringing the Meter back down to 0. Getting back to 0 enabled me to relax and enjoy the rest of the day playing with James and all his new found booty. I slept like a rock that night.

Day #7 – Get away day arrived with the same cloud of fire smoke over the town, but we all arose early and got to the airport. I can’t find words to describe how happy and thankful I was that we had decided Jamey would escort me all the way home. Emotional good- byes were said to Katie and James, and off we went headed for the East Coast. The trip went without a hitch, and back home in New York was a pleasant feeling. To recap, I went to Montana for a scheduled 7 days, three of which were spent in the Hospital. I have to make up those three lost days in the near future; of course, without the damn smoke.