Jethro was a bull around bone china, the racket of smashing followed him. He never figured out how to move on, clinging desperately to his broken experiments, trying to force the unfeasible to clank along. At 35, he had had several aborted relationships that permanently terminated with emotional and physical mayhem. He feared abandonment and couldn't comprehend how his partners could so glibly disconnect from him without any necessary protracted drama; his addiction. So, he felt the urge to harm them, to pay them back for their ruthless rejection. Like some dogs who will let you into the house but snap at you when you try to leave, be careful of the Jethros and Jethrenes.
Author Archives: Brian Hodgkinson Jr.
The human condition clips on; hubris dogs their every step, everyone neglecting their source. Love sees involved invisibly in our regular suffering; vivifying our very existence, and yet, ignored by the masses. No one, it seems, is paying attention, going their own destructive ways. When the fact remains; One is tapping on our heart now, so willing to recreate us from the inside out. Love died, resurrected, and reigns. Let it in.
Three hundred fifty years ago, Milton said, "Craving is never satisfied." Contemporary media perceives this and leverages it to empty our bank accounts, to commandeer our bodies, set the agenda for our opinions, to titillate our desires until the appetites enslave us. Our wills are molded by 2 of the 5 gates, inundated with the flickering of looking-glass screens flashing subliminal messages to eat, eat, eat, or hate or lust We are their patsies-- reprogrammed every minute.
There is one who took the seven divine powers and descended to the underworld. There is one who abandoned the glory of humankind for the greater. The carpenter was lacerated, bruised, crushed, and entombed, whose aim was to descend to the underworld. One calls the people to come to behold the doorway, to mourn our collective insensibility; to see the completed victory over the netherworld. He bashed down hell's gate; blasted the prison door-- though the underworld did its utmost to incarcerate him, the door of life defeated the portal of death. He pulverized the serpentine skull of the jailer. He set the captives free and came up again from the depths to become the life-giving vine, the life-giving water - The one true life-- & the highest name above all-- enthroned.
It's time to give credit to whom credit is due. Humankind likes to praise itself as if they could all take a breath by their own choice - or resolutely keep the chest pumps pushing oxygenated blood to the extremities by an act of their own will. The autonomic system begs an answer of which our human science has negligibly scratched the outer layer. To deny that there is a master author is to be deliberately dense to the fundamental lesson of life on this earth: To heartily give thanks for all things.
Polls and projections serve as a waste of time. Outcomes frequently happen outside of the ordained orbit. So, stop, simmer down, and settle into the real world. It is whatever it is-- affirm the moment or flame out. Today represents the total of opportunity. Invite yourself in, take it to heart, strike for the gold. Vitality is available now. Internalize at the sacred well of the precious present. To dig in for more agreeable days is the quest of fools. Your heyday is here. -- Use it.
I’ve finally gotten to the point
where I don’t care what they say.
The so-called beneficial demands authorities make —
what I must do. When I was eighteen, said
I must go to war for my country. I was to be fodder
for the failed cause of someone else, which would
only serve to change me into a monster or back to dirt.
The invisible tyrant said we needed to cut all fats
then formulated margarine only to find later
that their creation was poisonous trans fats.
Then they replaced sugar with high fructose corn syrup
made in a laboratory for lab rats –but good for business
enhancing obesity much more–
Almost everything the experts tout is wrong–
over and over again, wrong. I have lived
through about ten presidents and have watched
the carnage and corruption of a selfish society.
Even our resistance movements are
destructive and wrong-headed. They exude
the negativity of knee-jerk reactions to the other
negatives only to blossom with more of the same.
History replicates itself by the law of attraction.
Lockdowns provided a pause for the spirit-mind-body person to reset. Modernity's insanity is putting us out of alignment. Centering one-pointedly reconnects the spirit-being disoriented by multiple screens of artificiality. Masks that equipped with private facial anonymity may be more healthful than mere viral shields. Trouble always holds the roots of an equal but usually greater benefit.
Gandhi didn't advocate punitive resistance, nor did King --or Mandela. But Che did, his clothes stained with blood. Yet, celebrity t-shirts laud him. Their thinking is that the ends justify the means. Wrong! The bloody mass graves of Lenin and Stalin cry out. A movement of media intolerance was behind the Holocaust. History repeats itself when we stop paying attention. Mayhem triumphs when good people look the other way. Can you imagine how dangerous it was for Bonhoeffer to rail against Hitler over the radio? Or Polycarp to contradict Caesar to his face? Their fame is more indelible than any viral TikTok, YouTube, or whatever. There is a time for everything under the sun --so says the Preacher. Bards who water down their flow are tepid blowhards.
The masked marauder goes over the earth. The poison-tipped bolts of fear and rage discharge from its computerized combined lips. It takes shape, shifting sideways. It trolls us while eating our a.M. Cheerios. Tablets and cells bore into the gray stuff. Unawares, yanking the strings, there is dancing, lurching-- The tree is still there. The morning dove is oblivious that its song should be silenced or merely be canceled as a YouTube phenom. Screen time may denature.