Hey American Christians, when are we ever not in church?

    It’s Sunday, when I was taught the Devil would get me if I didn’t attend church by in God we trust on their money people who perhaps never wondered when was Jesus ever not in church?

    It’s Sunday, after I watched for a week on TV America’s most well known Bible salesman’s pecker on trial in a New York City courtroom,

and America's Roman Catholic president still helping Israel do this in Gaza and trying to start World War III in the Middle East.

    Sometimes I get into stuff because it interests me, sometimes because I’m bored, sometimes because I’m feeling mischievous, sometimes because something a heck of a lot bigger and smarter than me arranged it.

    Yesterday’s Greetings Christian America from the Melchizedek priesthood in which Jesus is high priest post was an example of something a heck of a lot bigger and smarter than me arranging it.

    As was my stumbling across Free Radio Rulo (Nebraska) and its Church of Dudo and Erik Rittenberry’s Poetic Outlaws newsletters, where raw truth, beauty, love, irony, irreverence and humor still breathe in an America gone batshit zombie apocalypse crazy.

    About two weeks ago, Free Radio Rulo beamed over:
 

Hey buddy! Would you try your hand at writing a fictitious

" letter to the editor"?  for next week's " NEWS FROM RULO".  It would make my day!

    I beamed back:

Ahoy, Wonder Bread truck free radio station Rulu, Nebraska...

I have to say, you are a cornhusker wonder to behold.

I do not say that lightly as a long-time Alabama Crimson Tide fan.

I say it as someone who has shot off his mouth and pen for a very long time, disturbing the self-deemed precious. STATUS QUO.

The HEAD UP WHERE THE SUN NEVER SHINES religion, or should I say, cult?

The POLITICOS and the RELIGIOUS, who FEATHER their and their friends and families' NESTS.

And their LAWYERS' nests.

I am a lawyer, by the way. Or was one. Well, it's probably terminal, like Ebola. But IT takes much longer.

In my past I ran ten times for local public office, claiming God told me to run, if I knew what was good for me.

I detested politics, but I was dragooned in a dream to roll up my sleeves and dive into that raunchy sewer. So, I dove.

I never came close to winning, so I didn’t have to ask for a recount.

I always was the minority report, out of the box, the pissant, some might say.

But, my goodness, it actually was some fun, when I wasn’t moaning about it.

I named my good morning blogs in salute to the VERY SUBVERSIVE “Good Morning Vietnam”, may Robin Williams, the Vietnam war dead and those blogs all rest in peace.

It was many years after that war that I considered JFK, RFK, MLK and Malcom X all got shot dead after they came out against America at war in Vietnam.

I had a pretty big reader following at my blogs.

I spoke hundreds of times at city and county commission meetings, school board and other local government meetings.

I got quoted in local newspapers, one of which likened me to Don Quixote in an editorial cartoon.

I got interviewed by local radio and TV stations.

I gave real estate developers and their lawyers and their captiured city and county commissioners hell, and then some.

But dang, I never dreamed of having my own Wonder Bread truck radio station.

I don’t now recall how I stumbled across you and instantly recognized a fellow kamikaze pilot, balls to the wall, no sacred cow left un-poked, skewered, drone-missiled.

And to beat all, you are a POET!

The SCANDAL!

Once upon a time, when I lived in Boulder, Colorado, I met a woman disc jockey in Salt Lake City, who had her own morning call in show. She interviewed me several times by telephone, and the Christians and the Momons in Salt Lake lit up the station’s phones.

One day we were to entertain the Salt Lake fooks, she called around breakfast to ask if I had heard what was on the news and did I want to still do the interview? 

The news was the federal assault of the Branch Davidian compound in Waco, Texas.

I said, of course. Just tell your audience ahead of time that you will be interviewing the Devil in Waco.

She laughed.

She did the promo, and oh my God, the station’s phone lines started lighting up after she asked me who I was, and I said, The Devil, and where I was, and I said, In Waco, Texas, and why was I there, and I said, to see how people make my work so easy for me that I mostly hang out on Maui staring at half naked beautiful women on beaches.

I dunno. It just now occurs to me that maybe that was my first plunge into national politics, or any kind of politics.

Now, I have to tell you this.

Back when I wuz running for local office, you could shoot off your mouth about politics and religion without worrying much about somebody shooting you. But as you have observed, times have really changed, and while I keep shooting off my mouth here and there, it won’t surprise me to walk outside some day and look down to see red laser dots on my chest.

So, while I hope you keep on poking the places that deserve poking, this 81+ grandfossil the Smithsonian is still trying to recapture, after it let me out for a walk one day and I snuck behind a bush and gnawed off the hind foot with the tracker on it and grew another hind foot and hightailed it, also hopes you have plenty of Kevlar and a band of battle angels backing you up, who truly appreciate fools who rush in where angels fear to tread, but if there were no fools, who’d lead the angels?

    That one didn’t get published out of the Wonder Bread truck, but after further discussion with Free Radio Rulo, I beamed this below over and it was published yesterday, along with other wonders to behold you can enjoy by clicking this link: https://freeradiorulo.substack.com/p/news-from-rulo-42e

Letters to the Editor 

Greetings Free Radio Rulo and the Church of Dudo!  

I’m a member of an advanced special forces team from the Pleiades, investigating how our original seeding here of humans ended up going the way it went? What seemed so perfect for a new colony turned out so unexpected that it caused our scientists back home to wonder if our frozen embryos, after hatching on Earth, were tampered by a different not so happy alien race somewhat like the Kingons in the Star Trek tales. For how humanity turned out was nothing like anything the Seven Sisters races had imagined in our wildest dreams! Our mission here, perhaps impossible, is to try to find out what actually happened and then try do something about it, because the Pleiades races know for a fact that what some Earthlings call karma, we Pleiadeans don’t want to visit our home planets because of something we set in motion and perhaps should have stuck around longer to make sure it got off to a good start.  Perhaps if we can figure out what went wrong, we can repair it somewhat. We searched for Earthlings to help us in our investigation, and we did find a few here and there who somehow seemed to have dodged the brunt of the damage most of our distant cousins on Earth now experience, and one of those places we found is your Free Radio Rulu and its Church of Dudo. We hope you will grant us an audience and allow us to use your facilities and technology, perhaps augmented somewhat by our technology, to broadcast our frequencies, which your scientists confuse with various space noises, and also our messages in your English language, which seems to be the main language on Earth today, although the way things are going, that may change in time. So, what do you say? Do you want to join us? It won’t cost you any what you call money, and who knows how it might go? We certainly don’t have what Earthlings sometimes call a crystal ball. You can call me Star Man, if you like, since my Pleadean name is unpronounceable in any modern human language, and you might wish to watch, if you did not yet do so, the South American film “Man Facing Southeast”.

    This happened yesterday at Eric Rittenberry’s place.

Anaïs Nin: Some Never Awaken
POETIC OUTLAWS
APR 27
 
You live like this, sheltered, in a
delicate world, and you believe 
you are living. 

Then you read a book… 
or you take a trip… 
and you discover that you 
are not living, that you 
are hibernating. 

The symptoms of hibernating are 
easily detectable: first, restlessness. 
The second symptom (when hibernating 
becomes dangerous and might 
degenerate into death): absence 
of pleasure. 

That is all. 

It appears like an innocuous illness. 
Monotony, boredom, death. 
Millions live like this (or die like this) 
without knowing it. 
They work in offices. 
They drive a car. 
They picnic with their families. 
They raise children. 
And then some shock treatment 
takes place, a person, a book, a song, 
and it awakens them and saves them 
from death.

Some never awaken.

Sloan Bashinsky
poignant-
getting married, 
birthing a child and having it die at seven weeks,
birthing two more children
and raising them,
or trying to,
watching them grow from nursing and shitting their cotton diapers
I washed out in a toilet,
watching them learn to walk and fall down and walk, and talk,
watching how curious and full of energy they were,
watching their mother and I grow apart, 
watching me not being the father my children needed,
watching my life go to hell,
watching my children have their own struggles,
some their doing,
some because I was not the father they needed.
watching me get married 7 more times,
each wife remarkable,
each wife woke something up in me I did not know was there,
they enriched my life,
I hope the same for them,
since i was not easy to live with,
nor was it easy for me to live with me,
how empty and I suppose boring my life would have been,
but for those women and the three children,
the one who died suddenly
so unhinged me
that I was never thereafter able to fit into the molds and plans
made for me by my ancestors and me,
he broke my heart and set me on my journey,
a dozen different lives in one lifetime,
I did leave the old, many times,
and start anew,
in places where I knew no one,
but now I’m back where I started, 
my hometown, 
a blue southern city surrounded by MAGA counties,
the local churches seem right where they were when left
and came to wonder when I ever was not in church?
Most people I once knew here 
seem where they were when I left the first time in 1986,
I have lived in this same old apartment building three times
after I stopped running away from home,
It was all-white, then it was somewhat integrated, now international,
the Internet makes it a lot easier to run away for a spell,
but everywhere I go,
there I am,
can’t run away from me,
nor from many, many memories,
waiting for the Lord to take me, 
hopefully before I am in assisted living 
or a nursing home 
or nut house,
I crawl out of bed each morning
and engage what gets on my plate today,
chop wood, carry water, I suppose

    This happened yesterday at religiousforums.com:

How Much Do You Doubt God's Existence?
Nakosis 
Non-Binary Physicalist
Premium Member

Is there any room in your belief to doubt God exists?
Or do you believe in God with 100% certainty?

If you're agnostic does that mean you believe there is a 50% chance God exists and a 50% chance he doesn't?

If you don't believe in God or gods are you 100% certain there is no God(s)? 90%, 70%? 

If you believe in more than one God are there some gods you don't believe in? How certain that these gods you don't believe in don't exist?

What do you base this percentage of non-belief on?

Redneck Mystic said: 

I know for a fact that God exists by any name people might use, and angels and demons, too, and ETs, as well. But I would be nuts if I thought I could prove it to anyone else. I tell atheists, if there was no God, that topic would never come up. I tell Christians, to the extent they live as Jesus lived and taught in the Gospels, they are saved by him. I tell Christians God doesn’t care if someone believes in God or not. What interests God is how people live and relate to other people and the planet.

I wrote about my heaven and earth experiences many times at blogs I published, and now there are around a dozen of my digitized books at the free internet library, archive.org, which is funded and run by colleges in America, and thanks to technology, that library's books can be read in English and about 33 other languages.
Three of my books at the libary are novels, which are not entirely all made up, and for grown ups, and the rest of my books there are not made up at all, and for grown ups, but some parts might be viewed by some people as stranger than fiction.
Enter Sloan Bashinsky into the search space and icon links for my books come up, which can be opened and read by clicking on the icon, Free reads, no ads, no soliciting.

Nakosis 

I believe what you experienced was 100% real but not necessarily reality.

Redneck Mystic

Belief is just that, belief. If you lived in my skin, you would know what I experienced regarding God, angels, demons, ETs was and continues to be as real as hitting your thumb with a hammer is real. 

 

sloanbashinsky@yahoo.com