DOWN ON ORGANISED RELIGON

Posted: May 20, 2010 in Organizations
As we all know, religion, politics, race relations, are probably the top three taboo subjects in polite conversation. However, I have decided to touch on some of the experiences I had with organized religion. I had the opportunity to be in the inner circle of a new upstart Christian church and was able to see firsthand what goes on in the inner workings of an organization that was using God for personal gain.


I give some credit for the fact that I’m still here. To those who practice religion. Because there was a time in my life when I reached what they call rock bottom. On that particular day. I was contemplating suicide. I was dead broke living in the streets or sometimes in homeless shelters. I had spent 10 years avoiding life by staying intoxicated on various drugs. I was completely separated from former friends and family this was my choice of course, due to my embarrassment of what I had become.

Religion has been a controversial subject for centuries. It has long been one of the top three conversations that people tend to avoid or simply consider taboo in polite social gatherings. I think the other top two are politics and race relations.

There are so many different denominations and definitions people believe in as a source for their higher power. They are almost innumerable. Each person believing that their higher power, or God is more powerful than anyone else’s. There is no wonder there are so many problems in the eastern countries. There are far too many people out there willing to persecute and even kill anyone who does not believe the way they do.

I live in the United States, where supposedly we have the freedom of choice of religion and religious practices. Where free speech is a privilege to the point where someone decides to not like what you’re saying and silence you.

When I read the newspaper and watch television news. I see all the disrespect, hatred. People have for one another when they choose a certain way to believe. Not only surrounding issues of who has the most powerful God. I see the people who look down on others because they have large bank accounts, belong to a certain religious group, or simply live in a fantasy world, they have created for themselves. Like a bubble that protects them from the rest of the world. I see the people who supposedly use their Christian mores and go to foreign countries to adopt the starving children to make themselves look like great humanitarians in the name of their God. Those same people who have more money in their bank account than five generations of their future family could ever spend have no regard for the people who are starving to death right under their feet in their own country.

I see the people who kill one another over love, money, property or power. I see the people who hate other people because of the color of their skin or their sexual practices or just for being alive. With all this chaos going on. I cannot help but wonder, is there really a God? A powerful being capable of controlling the universe, who supposedly loves us, yet allows all this tragedy to be going on under his or her supervision.

It is said that people who have achieved higher levels of education have a much greater difficulty of believing in spiritual things. I myself have read the Bible several times. There are many things in there that are a good basis to adapt as a moral code to live by. But as for many of the miracles, the immaculate conception, and the returning from the dead to save us all. I’m not buying any of that. Certainly, this God can see this world is on a path of self-destruction and has done nothing to intervene in over 2000 years.

In my personal experiences with Christianity. I have seen both the good and bad sides of this concept. I have seen the true believers and the fakers who were just going through the motions. At a time when I was living on the bad side of life, I had reached the point where I was contemplating suicide. I was moments away from completing my decision to jump off the Broadway Street Bridge down into the train yard when a Christian lady who happened to be the pastor of a new upstart Christian Church. Drove up in a van with her daughter and called to me to come with her.

She was relatively new to America from South Korea. She spoke with a broken accent that I could barely understand. She had to call me three times before I understood. She wanted me to come to her church. I was so involved in my plan of self-destruction. I was ignoring her. Apparently her spirit or God or what ever compelled her to be persistent. So she and her daughter got out of the van came over and begged me to reconsider what ever I was planning. I was homeless, stinking and dressed in rags, and this woman convinced me to come with her to her home.

These two women cleaned me up, gave me clean clothes to wear and asked me to become caretaker of their new upstart church. So I moved into the basement of the Church and got a close-up view of this version of Christianity. In retrospect I realize now, they had a different course of motivation for me in their project. At first they were performing many good works, feeding the homeless, distributing used clothing, and going to the streets for street evangelism. I had the opportunity to witness the inner circle of this church as I was not only the caretaker, but also became the pastor’s chauffeur and was privy to many of the inner workings of a church that common parishioners never see.

They continued with their good works for a while until they became associated with one of the largest churches in the area. I always wondered how they paid the mortgage and kept the lights on with the dismal contributions that they received from homeless people. Then slowly I realized that several of the Elders of this church were undercover millionaire’s and very quickly the church grew. They bought a huge complex, far out in a rural area, separate from the rest of the world and all of a sudden street evangelism stopped, feeding the homeless stopped. The church began catering primarily to people of means and large incomes. The main focus was on people who were elderly, and about to die so they could convince them to leave all their worldly goods to the church. The pastor became richer and richer and bought a million-dollar mansion in the suburbs.

All of a sudden I was just someone they could use as an example of someone who was saved from the streets and returned to the fold of God. At one time, I overheard some conversation between the pastor and her husband. They were laughing about the great success and wonderful lifestyle they had created for themselves. Using the word of God. What a great scam. I finally woke up and realized I was just a pawn in their great plan. I decided that if this great God allows you to use his name to gain great riches and fails to intervene. I want no part of your God, or your church.

There were a couple of other incidences that damaged my faith in God and in women, primarily because of the incident that occurred with the pastors good friend who I became romantically involved with who failed to tell me that he was married, but I’ll leave that conversation for another article.

By the way even though I had all the bad experiences with this particular Church that saved me from my own demise. I do still believe there is a God. Even though I’m down on organized religion. I still feel God’s spirit in me. Even though I know you can get 10,000 people to read the Bible and get 10,000 different interpretations it is still a great guide for life. I no longer subscribe to any particular denomination. I just consider myself spiritual. I try to do my part by giving testimony of all the bad choices I’ve made to the young people of today in the hopes of getting at least a few not to go down the path I was once on.

I like so many other people on the planet have no clue of what my purpose is. The only thing I know for certain. I have no desire to be the person I once was. I will spend the rest of my time talking to anyone who will listen about the poor choices I’ve made in attempt to help them stay off the evil path

HOLIDAY SEASON

Posted: November 26, 2008 in Uncategorized

 

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving day, traditionally a day reserve to give thanks for all we have been blessed with. It is the first day of the American holiday season. However for many it is a time of great depression, especially for those who live in poverty. It’s hard to be thankful when you are hungry or dressed in rags. Currently I am a shut-in living in my sister’s basement. I am thankful that I’m not currently living in the streets, primarily because this time of year when many homeless people die from exposure to the elements.

Next up will be Christmas another day of depression. I believe Christmas is merely being exploited by those people who do not even celebrate Christmas. You know who they are to increase their end of year bottom line. The three wise men gave gifts to the newborn Christ as an offering for the gift that he would give to the world in the future. So how did that turn into reality to give gifts to each other? The American people alone spent hundreds of thousands of dollars a year on gifts and lighting for their homes, which puts them into debt. At least until April to celebrate a single day. So, certainly those who have no money for lights or gifts automatically go into a state of depression. There’s no point celebrating when you can’t even afford to feed your family.

 

Next up New Year’s Day another time for great celebration. People have a tendency to have throw great parties for all their friends and family on New Year’s Eve and wait in anticipation for midnight to come in the hopes that the next year will be better than the last. However when you spent your last year being cold and hungry it’s hard to get your hopes very high that anything is going to change simply because we changed into a new calendar year.

THE NEW WORLD

Posted: September 10, 2008 in Uncategorized

IT’S A NEW WORLD.

The children of today are almost worthless. They have no aspirations. They seek no future goals. They continuously rebel against their parents and other authority figures. They refuse to read any books or get any type of decent education. They whine and cry about normal household chores. They would prefer to live in total filth. Their primary pass time is waiting for someone to feed them and watching television and playing video games. The rest of the time they spend lying cheating and stealing and trying to manipulate every situation to suit themselves.

Today’s children have no concept of how much it takes for whoever their sponsor is(Today, it usually their grandparents, because their real parents are locked in jail for smoking crack or something) to make the necessary money that keeps them in their lavish lifestyle of not having to do anything. They have no idea how much money is spent on the food they eat. Or, any idea how much a mortgage payment is or how much electricity, water, and heat costs. Yet they whine and cry if their bath water is cold or electricity goes off. They have no concept of conservation. Many times I have walked around the house doing nothing but turning off lights in rooms that no ones occupying, or turning down the thermostat that someone has put on 90°. They walk around all day long , laughing and playing without a care in the world. If you try to give them a dose of reality trying to get them to realize those who take care of them would soon die. Thus sooner later they will have to learn how to fend for themselves. They have the attitude of its more important for them to focus on their having a good childhood. Sure having a good childhood is very important, but all things in moderation is also important. Play a little learn a little and eventually they can have everything they ever wanted.

They have no concept about the importance of education, no matter how many times you mention it. They cannot see the world as it is in its real state. They live in a fantasy that they’re going to be rock stars or football players or doctors or lawyers or whatever. They don’t realize they have put in the work to reach any of those goals. Anymore, you need a college degree for just about anything. You cannot be a rock star, unless you get some music theory under your belt. You cannot be a football player unless you get some sort of degree. The NFL does not hire anyone off the street, no matter how good they are. Any other professional trade it goes without saying you need to do the book work before you could even get started.

Anyone living in a poor family who cannot afford higher education who wishes to get to a better station in life, must work twice as hard as anyone else. To achieve good grades and a possible scholarship. You cannot reach any goal by just laying around listening to rap songs while others make millions. You are sinking further into poverty. You cannot create video games and unless you get an education first with a high degree in mathematics. You cannot just dream you’re going to be successful. You must do the work. The American society has no use for lazy people. You see advocates all of time talking about the plight of the homeless. But you must realize most of the homeless are there because they want to be. Or they spent their whole time dreaming, expecting someone to hand them the world on a silver platter.

 

I have tried and tried to explain it.  I guess the reality of life will be their best teacher when they realize after I’m dead and gone and the money stops coming in.  It won’t be long before the lights go out in the foreclosure is finalized.  Soon after that the sheriffs department shows up with a crew of men to throw the contents of the entire house out into the street then lock the doors behind them.  I guess, only then will they realize what I’ve been saying all along is true if they don’t focus on their future they will soon have no future except for life out on the street.

MY DARK ANGEL

Posted: September 8, 2008 in Uncategorized

I remember the spirit that took over my life at the peak of my addiction to cocaine. I called it my dark Angel. I considered this Angel to be female. Maybe that’s just because I’m a man. But the voice I heard was definitely female.

I remember how at first the whole thing was just an experiment that at the time, I felt I had complete control of the situation. However, very quickly, my dark Angel took over every aspect of my life. My every waking moment and my every thought involved what I was going to do next, to feed the insatiable habit of my dark Angel.

Very quickly, she threw away every moral and social value I ever subscribed to. I began to do things I never would have dreamed of doing like lie, cheat and steal. In my normal mind I would never have dreamed of doing anything that was against the laws of God or man.

I had become completely under her hypnotic spell and completely under her control. At first I was just a working addict, I was still in control of my everyday life. I was able to go to work and go shopping, and pay my bills and appear like any other normal member of society.

My dark Angel was having no part of that! She wanted every dollar I had to go for the purchase of more cocaine. She said: what do you need all those cars for? Why do you need all these televisions and stereos and household appliances? Why you have three cars and a tractor-trailer? You only need one vehicle to get around. Why do you live in this nice house? You’re wasting money on all these nice things. You could be spending it on more cocaine.

Very quickly, my dark Angel had me to cash in all my material possessions, to purchase more cocaine. She got me to sell of all my possessions. She turned me into a complete psychotic social path and a menace to society.

I was willing to do almost anything to serve my dark Angel. I quickly learned that you could manipulate people who were even more addicted to cocaine than I was. So when I wasn’t hustling women, who were willing to prostitute themselves to get high, or driving shoplifters to the mall, I would burglarize small businesses. I got so good at it, I not only thought I was invincible, but when I was doing it while I was stoned, I thought I was invisible.

Now when I look back on it all, I remember telling the detective that finally caught up to me after 10 years that he wasn’t just arresting me, but in fact he was rescuing me from my dark Angel. I know had gone on any longer, she would have graduated me to an even higher level of evil. I had already begun robbing drug dealers at gun point. So it probably was just a matter of time before I killed someone or got killed myself.

I have now been clean and sober for over 20 years. I can’t begin to explain how wonderful it feels to be back in my right mind. However, I know my dark Angel still exists deep inside me, and it would only take one hit to put me right back where I was, deep in her control. The thing I regret the most about having once been addicted to cocaine, is all a different lives, I have helped to destroy including my own. I’m back in control now. I only need to look back at the path of destruction I created to keep my dark Angel in check. I never want to be that kind of person again. I don’t want to be someone who would allow an outside influence or substance to take charge of my body and soul.

IN THE BEGINNING

Posted: July 5, 2008 in Uncategorized

I can only assume I have a normal beginning in the way most people enter into the world.  First learning to walk and crawl and discover all the closest thing to us.  Of course, I discovered the love of my mother, and as most mothers.  She loved her children unconditionally, even when they gave her many things to stress about.

We were dirt poor family, where both parents had to do all they could to enable us to barely survive.  At least these are the stories passed down through the generations of our family.  My earliest memories were of a big yellow brick house, which stood in the middle of a junkyard.  My mother explained that when we actually lived there, that the junkyard didn’t exist then.  At that time she had a large garden, were the piles of old junk cars were when I first saw it.  This was the house, where our family lived when I was first born.  Therefore I have no actual memories of having lived in that house.

The house I remember living in was on first and Sheridan in Denver, Colorado.  It was a beautiful red brick home with four bedrooms and a full basement.  At that time it was a prosperous thing for a black family to even have a home of their own.  My mother and father worked very hard to try to keep a roof over their children’s heads.  It’s funny how when you’re still young.  You have no idea how hard your parents work to feed clothe and house you.  Little children have no idea of the hardships their parents are going through just to keep their heads above water.  What’s worse, many of them don’t even appreciate the gift of life that has been given them.

Of the incidents I remember that happened that the child while living in the red brick house.  I can only remember 3 of them.  I remember, we all went to a large park one day, and I was playing with two young boys, who lived close by in the neighborhood.  They invited me over to their home to play with trucks and cars in their backyard.  Being very young, I thought nothing of running off with them since their house was right on the edge of the park.  We started playing and having a great time with the cars and trucks and building a town in their sandbox.  Meanwhile, my family is frantically searching the park and calling the police and frantically looking for me.  I remember I was intently playing with a big toy dump truck and looked up to see two large policemen staring down at me.  They took me to my family, and of course all was well.  I remember when ever we passed a large park.  I would say is that the park where you lost me at.  So my father nicknamed the part where I was actually lost and lost me park.  We would always get a big laugh out of it, whatever we would pass that park.

The second incident, I can remember involved me and my two sisters, Shonna and Sharolynn.  I remember it was hard times for everyone back then and many parents would leave young children home alone, which is definitely not the allowed in this new age.  Anyway, I remember my parents would lock us in the basement to prevent us from escaping and destroying the upstairs while they were at work.  This of course was during the summertime when there was no school.  One day my sister Shonna got bored of being locked in the basement and took me and my other sister on a little adventure.  She managed to pry open one of the basement windows, then got a ladder and helped me and my sister Sharolynn to climb out.  They put me in my little red wagon, and we went to a drugstore which was about five blocks away.  It was one of those old drug stores that had a soda fountain.  My sister had a dollar, and we all shared a knee-high grape soda.  Before we left my sister managed to steal several candy bars, which they hid on me and the little red wagon, and we proceeded home.  We all got snuck back into the basement and all was well.  We had completed the adventure undetected by our parents or anyone else until later that night.  I start whining because they weren’t sharing any of the candy with me.  My mother heard me fussing with them and wanted to know what the problem was.  Of course I told her I was mad because they weren’t sharing any candy with me.  Of course that started a whole investigation on, where did we get any candy.  Being young and not knowing how to lie.  I told the whole story about our adventure to the drugstore.  My mom got very angry and made us all return with the remaining candy to the drugstore and apologize to store owner.  This was my first memory about unknowingly being involved in a crime.  My sisters never really played with me very much anymore after that incident.  It was a major turning point in my life as I have been a loner, most of the time since then.  It seems I’ve always felt alone.  Even when I’m with a crowd of friends.  I sometimes feel as though I don’t really fit in.

It wasn’t long after that that school started again in both my sisters had to return to school.  During that time my mother kept me with her most of the time.  Sometimes she would leave me with the neighborhood babysitter when she was working part-time jobs.  The third answer than I remember involved her leaving me in the car.  She put me in the car and walked down the street to pay the babysitter before leaving with me to go shopping.  Of course being five years old.  The first thing I did was job behind the steering wheel to pretend to be driving.  I managed to dislodge the emergency brake, and the car slowly backed out of the driveway and started to roll down the hill toward the babysitter’s house.  Luckily, back then my mother was still quick on her feet and she managed to chase down the car and bring it to a stop.  Just feet before crashing into a house at the bottom of the hill.  My parents never spanked us very much, but this was one incident where I got my little butt spanked.

YOU CAN’T SCAM THE SCAMMER

Posted: March 17, 2008 in Uncategorized

It seems strange after I spent 20 years living in the streets and being involved in every type of scam that I strung out junkie usually comes across.  You would think I would have graduated to a level of respect.  However once you leave the life and get a little older any respect, you might have gained is lost and the new generation starts to think of you as a mark.

Now after having left the life and changing my lifestyle I have been clean and sober for over 20 years. I now spend my time in retirement, learning to play guitar, drawing and painting and playing on the Internet.  Which is where I am now studying the new modern-day scams that have been invented for Internet users.

They come at people in many different ways.  They prey on the elderly with bullshit work at home schemes, fantasy lotteries, and many other fraudulent practices to lure in people who are not streetwise.  It’s funny how so many people with high degrees of education can fall for the stupidest of scams.  It’s one thing to be educated, but one really needs to have some street knowledge to protect themselves from some strung out junkie, who would be willing to do anything to get to their next hit.

They will use all the basic human vices, to lure a person into their scam.  The basic ones they use are human greed, sex, health, desire for companionship, thrill seeking.  Etc., the ones that I am studying of course involves men in my age bracket.  These type of scams usually involves a good-looking woman half my age.  Skilled at luring her mark in the bait.

Currently I’m studying the activities of a very beautiful scam artist who doesn’t realize you can’t scam the scam artist.  She goes on all kinds of different web sites looking for her marks, usually men over 50. Men who are not streetwise and are easily distracted by a beautiful woman. They’re so busy thinking they may get laid one more time before they die.  They don’t realize she’s part of a crew, whose sole purpose is to relieve him of any loose funds he may have available and in some cases, maybe even his life.

I will critique the mistakes I feel she’s making, but nonetheless the un-streetwise may not notice.  The first thing I noticed about her even though she is very beautiful, and ex-junkie will quickly recognize another junkie.  In all her pictures she poses in a manner that one won’t notice the tracks on her arm’s.  When she goes to a web site and finds her mark.  She cancels her account.  Far too soon, before she has completed the scam. If you meet someone on a web site and start to interact with them.  You’re probably going to return to that web site to leave them some sort of special message or something and she is already left that web site is going to raise suspicion right there.  At first he came on to me using the love interest ploy. When any man with any sense, especially one that doesn’t have any money will very likely suspect a scam, because no woman half his age is interested in sex with them, even a prostitute doesn’t want to do it.  But it’s just her job. 

I will give her credit for scrambling her IP address.  Whenever I tried running a skip trace her e-mails come from all over the United States and in Europe.  She won’t talk to me on the telephone, because she knows I will be able to locate her much easier that way.  I even tried running her name on certain net Detective sites, and the name she is using doesn’t even exist.  I have a friend in the FBI who is going to help me track her down using the government’s equipment.

 You might think why is this ex-junkie criminal all of a sudden turning vigilante against the very thing that he used to do.  It’s simple, I know what I was and I know the harm caused many people.  I paid my debt to  society and now I want to help curb crime level, which is stealing everything.  People have worked all their lives for.  I too think I had some moral fortitude, because I would only rob businesses with good insurance.  So everything I stole replacement in a week or so and I didn’t feel bad about the insurance companies because they have been stealing from the public for years.  Anyway, let this be the first post of an ongoing project

THE MASTER AT WORK

Posted: March 12, 2008 in life
When the house lights dimmed and the concert was about to begin, the mother returned to her seat and discovered that her child was missing.

Suddenly, the curtains parted and spotlights focused on the impressive Steinway on stage.

In horror, the mother saw her little boy sitting at the keyboard, innocently picking out "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star".

At that moment, the great piano master made his entrance, quickly moved to the piano and whispered in the boy’s ear, "Don’t quit". "Keep playing".

Then, leaning over, Paderewski reached around to the other side of the child, and he added a running obbligato.

Together, the old master and the young novice transformed what could have been a frightening situation into a wonderfully creative experience.

The audience was so mesmerized that they couldn’t recall what else the great master played. Only the classic "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star".

Perhaps that’s the way it is with God. What we can accomplish on our own is hardly noteworthy. We try our best, but the results aren’t always graceful flowing music.

However, with the hand of the Master, our life’s work can truly be beautiful.

The next time you set out to accomplish great feats, listen carefully. You may hear the voice of the Master, whispering in your ear, "Don’t quit". "Keep playing".

May you feel his arms around you and know that his hands are there, helping you turn your feeble attempts into true masterpieces.

Remember, God doesn’t seem to call the equipped, rather he equips the ‘called’. Life is more accurately measured by the lives you touch than by the things you acquire.