Homosexuality: Logic?

Homosexuality: Logic?

“We all get homosexual impulses,” I hear that crap from so many folks nowadays, can’t figure who started that line up. But I can remember reading Jack Kerouac, he believed that also, even though I doubt he was one, perhaps bisexual, not sure, but I guess he had what he called his propensities (male sexual impulses). I like reading Jack, even though he is a bad writer (the spontaneous prose writer of the ‘50s), as was his friend William Burroughs (who was a homosexual from the word go). But for me, it gets a bit foggy, why they have to proclaim it is in all of us, unless they did an analysis of mans genetic nature, and saw it somehow in his DNA. They can do wonders nowadays, but I doubt they can to that, so where they got this philosophy from is a hidden secret I think only they know. It has come to the point of even being a taboo subject to talk about in public, if negative, but if pro, it is go.
So these impulses are proclaimed to be in all of us humans—by this group, thus making it part of human nature I suppose. I guess God wanted us to have a fling with males and females alike, so it sounds, or perhaps the god of darkness has figured it out, with his demonic force, plant the seed, invincible as it is, into the world’s mainstream, in man’s mind, sooner or later it will become a fact (like evolution) then let them proclaim it as a natural thing, the Greeks did it why fuss about it? Well, the Greeks did a lot of things, and had a lot of gods, too many to keep track of.
The script goes something like this: these impulses surface, like contours, what factor will dominate will dominate (like shaking the dice to me)) to the homosexual, it is only logical what will surface is natural)). With Mary Renault, who wrote so many books on the Greeks, and I’ve read them all, it took her two books (non-Greek) to figure out her propensity, her chose between the two—heterosexual or homosexual. She had to wait I guess to see which one would overpower the other.
No wonder Satan is winning the battle on earth, with this kind of logic.

The Hidden Diary of Bin Laden and God

The Hidden Diary of Bin Laden and God


Bin Laden died, and God stood in front of him, he said,
“Allah, the most High,” and Bin said, “Sir, it is I who has wished to serve you,” and Allah said, “Oh, I thought you thought it was the other way around, sorry for the mistake, how the heck you been, from what I’ve seen you’ve been quite busy?”
A little bashful, Bin said, “Doing your work God isn’t easy you know,” and God, “But it helps, I mean, I can’t do it all myself, now can I?” Bin thought about that for a moment, figured he’d leave that alone, it was a hard question (a loaded one perhaps), then commented in passing, “Is Muhammad around?”

“I can have him at your command, what is your wish?”
Said Bin in a sheepish way, “I wanted him to comment on the good job I’ve been doing down yonder way…”
Then all of a sudden, in the clap of an eye, Muhammad showed up, he was smiling, and Bin and He met eye to eye (I think they thought alike, and liked each other, you know, clicked), said Muhammad in a random echoing voice,
“I see you are carrying out my good works, I mean, killing as many infidels as possible: hee, hee,” he said adding, “I killed more folks than you, perhaps we can talk to the big guy, and see if you can go back down yonder, and catch up to me, I mean, you did well, but blood is blood, and Allah, likes all he can have, you know: in the name of God, we can do it, do it together, me from up here, and you down there.”
“Do you think another 9/11 will do the trick?” Mohammed looked at Bin, smiled, and behind him was God, who was looking up in the sky as if he didn’t hear a thing, but he was smiling nonetheless, said Muhammad,
“Yes, that might satisfy the big guy, but how about a bigger bang for the buck, you know, we’ll supply the oil revenue through Iran or Syria, God has a few friends left there (the PLO and Hama’s gorillas can assist), and we can get a few more jets to line up, and a few more Arabs to give up their lives for the holy honor of sticking it to America and perhaps Europe, and why not add a few of our enemies in the Middle East that have been a bit cheap lately with their revenues.”
And so it was, Bin was given a second chance to make good, and I think he is almost ready….

1/20/2007 Humor

Song of the Beast & Held Breath (Poetry and Humor)

Song of the Beast


“Satan! Satan is forth! Hark to his rippling-voice!
The blood that drips to Hell makes crimson his hands.
Satan is forth upon the light! Brother, think twice!
A demon has loosed the beast whose sword is sharp on the
land!”

#1624 1/19/2007



7) Held Breath

God said one day, he whisper it, to be exact, in fear His voice would echo, and cause too many earthly disruptions, He said plainly and clearly,
“There will be no more Free will.”
And the world held their breath, I remember the day quite well, a little after five, sundown had yet to come. But the day was finished—; nonetheless, the world held an empty silence. It was too late now, He had already chosen, elected, pushed (you could say) pottage on us, we the world, so someone said.
I thought: hadn’t someone seen this coming? (Foreseen, that is). Oh well, it is case of the blind leading the blind I suppose. Anyhow, this weakness of humanity I felt had gave God too much evil, corruption for God to stop it—so abruptly now (or even give it forgiveness): I mean: why not let us destroy ourselves, we’re doing a good enough job of it, it shan’t take all that much longer. So I told myself anyhow.
In any case, it was a fair gamble, He’d keep his word, He said:
“You had failed Me.”
He whispered that also, thank goodness. His whispers, I’ll let you know, are not all that calming, they vibrate the spine to a point you become paralyze, can you imagine if He yelled—God forbid. He used the word ‘had,’ I would have preferred ‘have,’ in that the latter is less fermenting, sounding.
I heard someone say, and it wasn’t me, I dare say,
“What did you expect?”
I thought it was a good question though.
He said (and I must now paraphrase it, because I was kind of ducking if not down right hiding behind a large, very large tree: it will be like a dream , and you will all suddenly wake up tomorrow, and be saved (and safe).
I thought that was a pretty good deal, then I heard a horde of voices screaming, yelling, and all that kind of stuff, “Let’s vote on this!”



1/18/2007, Lima, Peru (Humor)

Doubting Thomas, God and Me

Doubting Thomas, God and Me
[Sacred Light: Breathing in God]
By Dennis L. Siluk



This is a story about an awakening. At the time I experience this happening, I thought it could be what my true calling might be. Also, what my next step in life was going to be. Maybe even a truer purpose for me on Earth.
This profound inner awakening I call the Sacred Light, happened one evening in 1984, in my home city of St. Paul, Minnesota, USA. After taking a bath, and in prayer, a white light began to pour into my whole body simultaneously, like a process of osmosis. I could perceptively feel an ocean of white light, ardent; it engulfs my entire body, like a canopy. I felt somewhat in a trance. This trance and light allowed me to travel in an instant throughout my body, mind, and soul, to a higher level of understanding. (No I was not on LSD, or any kind of drugs.)
Within this light and mist a hand appeared. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. I went out to touch it. I felt like St. Thomas trying to touch Christ’s wounds. Realizing now, Christ—to insure Thomas of his identification, said to him: “Do you not believe it is me (something on that order).”
To jump ahead of the story, when I came out of this experience, I felt like I was almost returning to my body. I had experienced a freedom that seemed no one hand entirely new existed; on the other, I almost questioned reality, but whom really can, I mean, someone can tell me all day long this didn’t happen, but it did. So it didn’t matter what anyone said, but my mother believed me.
Let me go on, a white light, mist began to pour simultaneously engulfing my entire body. Like a canopy enveloping me. It filled the whole room with a light only heaven could provide I believe. If hell had it, God help us all. The profound inner awakening I was experiencing during this time, resolved one haunting, if not concerning issue I had buried deep within my mind. I knew now, or at least understood now, or at least felt I did, the Biblical inner answer to the statement: there is no crying in heaven.
This was something that had bothered me for a long while, not sure why, it just did. I had looked at that question a number of times before, as I was experiencing over fifty-visions during this period in my life [see the book the: ‘Last Trumpet & The Woodbridge Demon,’ for an update on the visions if you are curious]. I could never come to a comfortable understanding. I guess to me it was always an unanswered statement-question. One of those that could not be answered, so you bury it under a rock and never move the rock in fear it will frustrate you to death. This was a question I believed only God could answer. Thus, he showed me. I’m really doubting Thomas at I suppose (sorry to say).
If this question is simple to the reader of this story, he or she is or was more in the spirit than I was. I made it into a question I suppose, but only for lack of understanding, and understanding clearly, if indeed that makes sense. I think often times, we pretend to understand (an issue, question) in response to not knowing the answer, as a result, being ashamed for not having the answer. A control issue perhaps, we all want to have the answers don’t we. Or we want to tell God: sure I understand, if you say so. But this is not the understanding I was about to get.
The question goes as follows: If I were to die and go to heaven, and my friend was to die and go to hell [and you can surely put, mother, father, grandfather, whomever you like, into the equation, I put friend only because it is easier to except I believe] why would I not be sad, cry a tear. Maybe feel mad or be angry with God, at God. Maybe even hate Him. This was my dilemma.
I once was at an old folks facility (now they call them, Long Term Care Facilities; actually I was to many of them, many times). But this time, I met a woman there who I tried to minister to, not that I am a minister, I am not, but none-the-less, I did try to help her spiritually. She stated to me she’d rather go to hell and be with her father more than going to heaven to be with God; yes indeed, she blew my mind; being without her father was tragic. I couldn’t quite understand that. If I remember right, she couldn’t understand why God would even consider putting him in hell. I didn’t say he went or was in hell, so don’t get me wrong, I just couldn’t assure her he was in Heaven, and that was what she wanted. She had brought the question up to me. And stated:
“I’d be ok with going to heaven, if I was sure my father was there, if not I do not want to proclaim anything. I want to be with him.”
Yes indeed, simple and to the point, she knew what she wanted. She asked for assurances that he would be there, before she would ask God into her life. I couldn’t give them to her. If that was not unconditional love, I’m not sure what is. And in a like manner, if that is not blasphemy I dare say what it might be. But that is a story in itself. There would be no crying, no tears in heaven, I knew this now, as I moved my hand away from the transparent hand I had tried to touch, God‘s Son‘s I believe. The answer to my question was given to me, and it would remain in me after I had returned to the fresh body I had received. My body and mind fully understood, yes, God, not me, moved the rock that I had buried so long ago. I think God knew (in part, I hope so) I was not a complete, doubting Thomas, simply, a poet that needed to experience, feel—in my case, even, trying to touch his hand. God forgive me if I offended You, but I came out the wiser—I think.

Doubting Thomas, God and Me

Doubting Thomas, God and Me
[Sacred Light: Breathing in God]
By Dennis L. Siluk



This is a story about an awakening. At the time I experience this happening, I thought it could be what my true calling might be. Also, what my next step in life was going to be. Maybe even a truer purpose for me on Earth.
This profound inner awakening I call the Sacred Light, happened one evening in 1984, in my home city of St. Paul, Minnesota, USA. After taking a bath, and in prayer, a white light began to pour into my whole body simultaneously, like a process of osmosis. I could perceptively feel an ocean of white light, ardent; it engulfs my entire body, like a canopy. I felt somewhat in a trance. This trance and light allowed me to travel in an instant throughout my body, mind, and soul, to a higher level of understanding. (No I was not on LSD, or any kind of drugs.)
Within this light and mist a hand appeared. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. I went out to touch it. I felt like St. Thomas trying to touch Christ’s wounds. Realizing now, Christ—to insure Thomas of his identification, said to him: “Do you not believe it is me (something on that order).”
To jump ahead of the story, when I came out of this experience, I felt like I was almost returning to my body. I had experienced a freedom that seemed no one hand entirely new existed; on the other, I almost questioned reality, but whom really can, I mean, someone can tell me all day long this didn’t happen, but it did. So it didn’t matter what anyone said, but my mother believed me.
Let me go on, a white light, mist began to pour simultaneously engulfing my entire body. Like a canopy enveloping me. It filled the whole room with a light only heaven could provide I believe. If hell had it, God help us all. The profound inner awakening I was experiencing during this time, resolved one haunting, if not concerning issue I had buried deep within my mind. I knew now, or at least understood now, or at least felt I did, the Biblical inner answer to the statement: there is no crying in heaven.
This was something that had bothered me for a long while, not sure why, it just did. I had looked at that question a number of times before, as I was experiencing over fifty-visions during this period in my life [see the book the: ‘Last Trumpet & The Woodbridge Demon,’ for an update on the visions if you are curious]. I could never come to a comfortable understanding. I guess to me it was always an unanswered statement-question. One of those that could not be answered, so you bury it under a rock and never move the rock in fear it will frustrate you to death. This was a question I believed only God could answer. Thus, he showed me. I’m really doubting Thomas at I suppose (sorry to say).
If this question is simple to the reader of this story, he or she is or was more in the spirit than I was. I made it into a question I suppose, but only for lack of understanding, and understanding clearly, if indeed that makes sense. I think often times, we pretend to understand (an issue, question) in response to not knowing the answer, as a result, being ashamed for not having the answer. A control issue perhaps, we all want to have the answers don’t we. Or we want to tell God: sure I understand, if you say so. But this is not the understanding I was about to get.
The question goes as follows: If I were to die and go to heaven, and my friend was to die and go to hell [and you can surely put, mother, father, grandfather, whomever you like, into the equation, I put friend only because it is easier to except I believe] why would I not be sad, cry a tear. Maybe feel mad or be angry with God, at God. Maybe even hate Him. This was my dilemma.
I once was at an old folks facility (now they call them, Long Term Care Facilities; actually I was to many of them, many times). But this time, I met a woman there who I tried to minister to, not that I am a minister, I am not, but none-the-less, I did try to help her spiritually. She stated to me she’d rather go to hell and be with her father more than going to heaven to be with God; yes indeed, she blew my mind; being without her father was tragic. I couldn’t quite understand that. If I remember right, she couldn’t understand why God would even consider putting him in hell. I didn’t say he went or was in hell, so don’t get me wrong, I just couldn’t assure her he was in Heaven, and that was what she wanted. She had brought the question up to me. And stated:
“I’d be ok with going to heaven, if I was sure my father was there, if not I do not want to proclaim anything. I want to be with him.”
Yes indeed, simple and to the point, she knew what she wanted. She asked for assurances that he would be there, before she would ask God into her life. I couldn’t give them to her. If that was not unconditional love, I’m not sure what is. And in a like manner, if that is not blasphemy I dare say what it might be. But that is a story in itself. There would be no crying, no tears in heaven, I knew this now, as I moved my hand away from the transparent hand I had tried to touch, God‘s Son‘s I believe. The answer to my question was given to me, and it would remain in me after I had returned to the fresh body I had received. My body and mind fully understood, yes, God, not me, moved the rock that I had buried so long ago. I think God knew (in part, I hope so) I was not a complete, doubting Thomas, simply, a poet that needed to experience, feel—in my case, even, trying to touch his hand. God forgive me if I offended You, but I came out the wiser—I think.

Monsignor of Huancayo, Peru, told to Shut up over Contaminated Rio

The Mantaro Rio of Peru:
A Coke Stream


When you come to visit the Mantaro Valley, just beyond the huge mountains called the Andes, you will enter a Valley unequaled on earth, and again, I must say, you will be surrounded by the second largest mountains in the world, the Andes, although they are not the huge ones, perhaps only 2000-feet tall, but you are 10,500-feet high already, thus, you are 12000-feet above sea-level. The valley is more beautiful than the Scared Valley I think, and it has the old time touch to it; that is to say it brings you back two-hundred years with its adobe houses, ox and carts, and donkey’s, lamas and dogs running up and down the hills, throughout the valley villages. And once in the city of Huancayo (population apex: 325,000), you have all the modern amenities a big city has, so you got a mixture of both, old and new. And the women still dress in their old Wanka garb, with gold and black Wanka hats: a land of intrigue, mystic and romantic Wanka-ism. But there is a sad part to this tale, or story, when you follow the once beautiful river called the Mantaro Rio (and I have been here now four times, and am thinking about living here), you follow a green path, a blue sky, and an infested, contaminated mudstream, sad to say, but a touch of reality: called the Mantaro Rio. It looks more like a coke-a-cola stream than a river that should be blue or green.
Once you gaze upon it, you will not want to swim in it, as the animals do not want to drink from it, both man and beast are wise in this area, for should they, I’m sure they’d not do it twice. Yes, it’s a shame, perhaps those polluting it, should clean it, or drink from it: but that would be murder wouldn’t it, and we are not savages are we not; yet some folks seem to think, otherwise: that being, they have the right, or preference to do as they please with the water of the Mantaro Rio. This was once the problem we had along the Mississippi, where I live (part of the year), in St. Paul, Minnesota, in the United States, until we the people, enforced the government to take action and enforced the folks doing the polluting, to build refineries to clean the water they were infecting. Sounds logical to me.
I’m not sure how hard it is to clean what you dirty, perhaps no harder than cleaning the neighbor’s dirty laundry, you know, the one you dirtied and left for someone else to clean (a lot of us do that don’t we): the Mantaro Rio belongs to the Valley folks, not just those living down by the mines; thus, one may want to call the Core of Engineers in Minnesota, to see how they did it, and perhaps, we can fix what needs fixing.
Now they are even (some Ungodly folks) are sending devilish letters to the Monsignor of Huancayo, saying in so many words: if you don’t shut up, we’ll kill you, or shut you up. Let me simply say this: those saying these things are simply cursing themselves to God, and putting their own, families and lives in danger: with the One they can’t see, but can see them. Why do I say this? I’ve learned in life, what you plant is what you harvest. If it is evil, it will not blossom godly flowers why should it, thus you plant deadly seeds, and you get a deadly harvest, so beware.


Note: written on the way back from Huancayo to Lima, 1/10/2007

The Gay Train to Hell

The Gay Train to Hell


Most of the gay people I’ve talked to, think because they go to a so called gay Christian church they are going to heaven, when in essence, in the bible it does not indicate there is a gay heaven, but rather to the contrary. This, the gay community has built with new bricks, a new foundation to the Orthodox Church. This article is not to slam the gays rather, to set the record straight, if indeed it can be, we have taken so many steps backwards in this area, I fear most Christians are now brainwashed, hoping not to offend the Gay community, in fear they will stir too much controversy. Confrontation can be a strain on the butt.
The gay community as already declassified Homosexuality, as a lesser sin than picking your nose in public. Hitler once said, in so many words: it is easier to fool the masses than the few, and how true he was.
Let’s us not confuse this article with a slant, that gays do not have a right to go to church, or live, or even be gay, that is not the premise, It is a sin in the Christian Doctrine, perhaps not in the gay Christian mind though (to live a live of Homosexuality). It is a triple sin, one against nature, one against God’s outlook, and one against us.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about rights, we can walk any road we wish, and we can, with a good vocabulary, make the wrong right, in our minds-eye, if indeed we are only seeking our own opinion, and our own limited mind’s justification. God would have it no other way, He would prefer for man to condemn yourself, rather than He do the condemning, and then man running to Him and saying: “¨Look here, I could have come around (put it all together) had You not butted in…” thus we all end up condemning our own selves
I’ve noticed in the near past, and present, the gay community takes a disliking when someone speaks out against their way of life in the Christian Atmosphere, yet they love the platform to persuade the pubic to their way of thinking; thus, they would take the same rights they so desire, away from such people like me, who has something to say about their religion, and the invaders, such as the Gays.
No one is born, or predisposed (as the Gay community would have you believe, plus there is no scientific proof) to being born Gay; it is a learned trait, if not a social enmeshed way of life and thinking, embedded I say, over a period of time, which becomes a pattern, into an individual’s social environment, and psyche at some vulnerable point in their lives, or so I believe.

Why Must we Die? & Something for Nothing! (A View)

Why must we die?
(A View)

We got something for nothing, and we call it life, and somewhere along the line we didn’t appreciate it, I do believe; perhaps now the cost is Death, it puts a value back onto life.
There was a time I do believe, in our far past, when life as we see it today in the physical sense, was forever, our cells, and chromosomes did not cascade, and thus bring us to old age, and namely death. But death of course turned that around.
God has promised resurrection, if indeed you are a Christian, if not, no sure what He promised you, if anything. But first one must come from death thus; we will appreciate the rebirth with a mature mind: perhaps the second time.
Death in the hands of our Creator makes sense to me, unfortunately this is why man likes to use it against man, it is a powerful hold on people.


1595 1-4-2007

Something for Nothing!
(View)

We may not be able to understand life and God, in its most raw and physical form of existence—be that is as it is—but we were created by someone and something, and from nothing “us” although one may not be able to understand this, we can understand someone giving us a gift, yet, seldom do we get gifts without a motive, that concept is perhaps harder to understand than God. Nevertheless, something that never was, become a thought to someone, and thus, we became something: that being, you and me. And that was for nothing, and that was from God.

1595 1-4-2007