Imagining the Tenth Dimension

indeed..

Summary:
All of us moved from the trailer into this spiffy two-story apartment. Brian and I moved out of the apartment after living there several months, and back to my parent's place. I started taking Karate, and I got a new kitty. I'm still working at Subway. I'm still as lazy as ever.

Wow.....
I thought it was just some kind of crazy day dream. It was just wishful thinking; hoping things would turn out this way. I can't believe what my eyes are seeing, but I knew it.
I just knew it...

Today I went to church at the G-Tab with a friend of mine. The Gospel Tabernacle is a tremendously huge church where people worship eccentrically, possessed with the Holy Spirit, run up and down the aisles with streamers and hankies, raise their hands to touch the Glory, dance and weep and speak in tongues.
--
From my vantage point in the back of the sanctuary, I wasn't able to get a good view all of the passionate praise and jubilation at the front. Even as I tried to have an open mind, and tried to not point and stare, I can't help my juvenile impulse to laugh at these "Holy Rollers,". It's easy to think of these people as mere objects of extreme hilarity. But as I found out, these people aren't just religious crazies, they are people I would have considered, based on appearances alone, to be normal townsfolk.

I mean, what did I expect!? Of course with a town this small and a church that big of course I'm gonna run into people I know. It's kind of hard to explain my sense of awe at seeing people I encounter on a daily basis acting like complete raving lunatics. It's as surreal as a dream where you're fixing a go-cart with your ex-landlord.

I won't mention who it was , but I was very surprised at this one individual who spontaneously interrupted the preacher with an entire Biblical passage not 2 minutes after a woman all in a frenzy over Christ, ran up an stage stamping her feet and growling like some kinda cow-dog.

Maybe I should be ashamed for laughing at something I just don't understand. The feeling of that kind of passion, that will make you abandon all vanity, and self-awareness is rarely something I realize. It makes me a little sad that I just don't understand these things; that sometimes I think that I've never loved anything, or have been so moved by something to get swept away.

It's just one of those things that makes me stop wondering why people would ever want to be involved in religion.

Amen.

I've been going crazy for the past week because my computer is non-functional.
I miss my Fark, and celebrity news, and keeping up with my Internet buddies.
I've been meaning to clean this blog up, it's a total mess-- MySpace too, but I don't want to hog my Christa's computer forever.
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Living without the Internet is tough, living without video games is even worse. Since my Hunny took up DOA 4 I can't get no Viva Pinata, or Katamari or anything except Tekken sometimes.
So no digital entertainments...
Last Saturday I went to the Library, THE LIBRARY! Can you imagine?
I've been reading this book about Etiquette, which is completely packed with useful info, just learning some very basic things from this book could help me out immensely in social situations, assuming I ever encounter such things in my lonely, lonely life.. ever.. again...
I highly recommend anyone read up on etiquette it's not just how to place your fork and spoon or how to curtsy, but things you could use every day, politeness things that will not only make your life more enjoyable, but make everyday interactions so much nicer.
Then I've been reading Cosmos by Carl Sagan. I don't care wut you say, I fell in love with him from watching a YouTube. It would probably be better for me to just watch the show rather than read the book because it's pretty much the same material. It would be so much easier if I could see a diagram or an animation explaining some of these ideas. So far this is a pretty good read too, it fills in blanks left by my public school educations, limited memory faculties, and things I generally wonder.
Then I got this book about Innumeracy, which I thought at the time would, If I read the book, and focused on helping myself, I could become numerate, but that's not the point of this book I found out. This book called Innumeracy is about how Innumeracy is a more common problem than is realized by educators and such ppl. Innumeracy is supposed to be a primary cause of people believing in luck, in pseudoscience, scams in general, and other such crazuh ideas.
For example some people don't realize just how great a number 1 million is, or a billion or a trillion. Or how their car exhaust could possibly be causing any damage to the ozone layer, how 0.0006% adds up over time. Even though I can't really understand how to do the Math, probabilities and such, there are some pretty thought provoking arguments there.
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So you can check out Ms. Na-Na Nayners Nannerbannaners the Wannabe Naughty Librarian when she's running across town to the library 15 minutes before close,
cause that's just how she rolls.

Lord almighty.. I'm just bored. Seriously, I don't know what to do with myself.
I need to get the hell outta town, take a vacation somthing, seriously.
Fucking, cold, fucking snow, goddamn cabin fever...
Yeah and I'm sick of Coudersport townsfolk.
No fuck that, I'm sick of damn near everyone regardless of location.
I'm always being fucking SMOTHERED with stupid.
: (
god-damn! god damn.....
--
All apologies for the lack of eloquence.

Falling asleep at the wheel, Na-Na?

So I been trying to get hooked on fighting the NWO.
I've been acknowledged as one of the Awake.
I'm alone in the Truth.
Or..
I've been curious about what these kids are talking about when they say NWO or Libertarian or Alex Jones.
So I spend a little time every day sifting through articles, watching videos, talking to people, and listening to AJ.
My first objective though is not to prove to myself or disprove any theory or belief, but to sift out the essential bullshit. What seem to be the purest forms of the unprovable, the speculations, fantasy stories, and absolute incorrectness of some claims.
I thought maybe I would call myself Libertarian because I think my values have been shifting in that direction.

link:
(because up is better than down?)

However, mere interest in these ideas and speculations does not make me subject to them.
And..
Stuffing feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken.

(had to throw that one in there for the kids)
I believe that the government of this country does not serve the needs of it's people.
I think that there is plenty of proof to back this up.
I think that the connections between special interest groups and corporations are ruining the quality of governmental representation.
And..
I think Bohemian Grove is just a wussy farce.

I still have no idea what Libertarian really means or what it would be like to live in that kind of world. I have no idea what I 'm going to do with any of these newly formed opinions about things I never knew I cared about: gun control, mandatory vaccinations, whether schools will let parents decide what their own offspring will learn in school.

It's kind of still a jumbled mess of defending constitutional rights, conspiracy theory, straight-up crazy rantings of dark imaginations.
So it will be a while before I decide what kind of direction I will take, or if I'll be a good fighter for truth--
or if all dismiss it as a load of bull.


Yes.. I'm aware I'm becoming a bore.

It's the Illuminati, I tell you!!!

Interested in politics?
Talk PA political issues, or any political issue of concern to you!

If you don't give a crap about politics, just come on in and have a chat with some friendly local folks!

This post is not about church.

So I'll put the whole, "church memoirs" thing on the back burner for a while, or maybe just scrap it all together.
I hadn't thought out what I was trying to say. I was trying to explain a few things I had been thinking about for the past year. Mostly having to do with abandoning all belief in the Christian god, any belief in the supernatural, karma, fate, and the like.
I feel like I'm born again. I feel more hopeful, more challenged, more alive than ever.
I don't feel like I have everything figured out, and I'm glad there are so many things in the world left to know.
But the things I do know, are in my heart, in my mind. My values and my resolve to do what is right for me, these things are all I really have in life. My hopes die, affections die, life dies, everything is so fragile and fleeting, how can I rationally choose to go on living? How can I go on losing my money, and youth, and health and treasured possessions?
How can I go on when I lose the one I love?
I go on living because I believe in what's most important, things that can't be taken from me, bonds that can never be broken. Memories of those who inspired me, the pride of having inspired or helped them in any way. Friendship, learning from each other, helping others to grow. There are many, many ideas, and memories and feelings.
I can take these things and push onward into the future.

When I was about nine I went to class to learn about First Communion. It was to be the first step in becoming a member of the church. This is when they started to introduce us to some of the doctrine of this particular church. They got into more complex ideas, and told us a little about why we had to do these things. I remember the pastor asking us if we had sinned this week. I couldn't think of a time when I smacked my brother or didn't pick up my barbies when I was told, so I thought I wasn't sinning. The pastor told us that we are all sinners and that we sin every day. He told us something like, that when we sin we were going against what God might want for us. He said something as simple as turning left on a street instead of going right would be a sin. I can't quite remember how he explained it. It was something like if your gut tells us to go right but you feel like taking a joyride on the left street, would be a sin. If you thought about smacking your brother, that would be a sin. If you think about not going to church that would be a sin. I know I'm making the pastor sound like some kind of crazed bible- thumper. But these things were explained at great length in friendly kind of way, not in a fire and brimstone kind of way.
The pastor told us things in a way so that we might understand and I could to some extent. I understood the symbolism of the blood and flesh. I thought it was important to ask for your sins to be forgiven, although I don't think I understood about the point of confession until I was in my teens preparing for Confirmation.
(I just thought of this, but I don't know if it was Confirmation as in being Confirmed a church member, or Conformation as being conformed to a church member. I think It's Confirmation. )
Anyway, we stopped going to church regularly after I did the First Communion thing. We went on Christmas, Easter and Ash Wednesday. I also had to be the Acolyte every couple of months.
When I was Acolyte I would walk up and light the candles, and I would carry the little cups for the blood. I hated that job. Sitting through church was really boring and I hated everyone watching me light the candles and snuff them out. I bet they thought I was SO ADORABLE.

After Sunday School, Momma would either take me home, or we would have to spend, what seemed like an eternity in church. If you ever had to spend any time at all in church, you know how boring it can be for a kid. I spent church time drawing all over the Kids Bulletin, drawing mustaches on faces and playing tic-tac-toe. I tried to slump down in the pew so nobody would notice if I wasn't kneeling for confession, or standing to sing. Gramma wouldn't let me get away with that though.
Usually every-other Sunday we went for Communion. Everyone lined up to get the "Body of Christ" and "The Blood of Christ". I was to young for communion then, but I went up to kneel like everyone else. The pastor would touch my head and say something like, "Linnea the Lord Blesses you and Keeps you," then he would go on down the line, "Bobby, the Lord Blesses you and Keeps you,". Then momma would get the wine she said tasted just like cough syrup, and the bread that tasted kinda like a vanilla wafer without the vanilla. I always asked about some church thing about every time I went.
"Why do you have to get the bread and wine?"
"What does 'Hosanna in the highest' mean?"
But nothing really ever made that much sense to me.
All the worship, the blessings, the reminders of God's grace were completely lost on me.
As I grew up, I really could have benefited from a better understanding of faith, or an understanding of reality. There was no helping this, there is no way that anyone could have explained these things in a way I could understand. Like Christian beliefs, I had some pretty confusing realities flung at me.
When I was about 8 years old, my dad went on vacation for a year. I had to go live at my Gramma and Grampa's house for a while because Mom was always working late. It was a very comfortable and loving environment. Gramma and Grampa took good care of my brother and sister and I.
But I was a very depressed kid. I didn't know it then of course. I felt sick and tired every day.
I missed being home and all of my familiar things, I missed having friends, and I missed my Mom.
I didn't know why things had to happen this way. I knew how they had happened, which was not an easy burden for a kid like that to bear. But, I didn't know why the Lord would choose to punish me by having me born into this family that was being torn apart. Why did I have to know so much sadness and not my brother or sister, or my friends at school?
I felt so anxious, and sad, and nauseous and restless. I didn't know what was happening to me.
My Grampa used to watch the Buffalo news every night, and there was always a story about AIDS or Cancer killing children. I didn't know how you could catch these things, but I knew that they could kill you, I could catch something.
Because I felt so bad all of the time, I thought that I might have one thing or another. I became convinced that I was going to die. I didn't see any connection between all the stress I was under and the pain I felt. My heart would skip a beat or I would feel like I stopped breathing in my sleep. I would think about My Little Pony, to distract myself with good thoughts. But when I felt like I was at the end of my rope I would pray to the Lord.
I remembered,
"Linnea, the Lord Blesses and Keeps you."
I remembered The Lord's Prayer, and to pray for our sins to be forgiven, for the ultimate goal of being taken to heaven.
I would beg the Lord to please spare my life. I would pray that if I had to die, that I would please go to Heaven, and if there were no other option than death, that he would please not let my Mom and my Gramma be sad forever. I was more upset with the thought of Mom being sad and alone, than I was with the thought of losing my life. If I wasn't already crying at this point I would be when I thought of everyone having to go to my funeral.
I never told anyone how I felt, not back then, not now. I felt this way for a year, and was haunted by the feelings for so much longer. Eventually the feeling lifted. I can't quite remember how. It makes me feel really ungrateful that I would take the feeling of relief for granted. Obviously, I realized that either the Lord had come through for me, or there was nothing really wrong in the first place. It was kind of a combination I suppose. I would feel like I would have to pray sometimes in exchange for keeping me well. But as time went on and I felt confident that I was okay, I stopped praying.

Church.

Some of my earliest memories were of the days when my momma used to take me to Sunday School. I remember going upstairs with all the other kids to sing songs with Miss Donna.
We would all gather around the piano, and recite the books of the Bible, "Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers....". Then we would struggle and bicker over which instruments we would play along with "Jesus Loves Me". Every kid in class wanted desperately to wail on the triangle like there was no tomorrow. I always ended up forfeiting my turn on the triangle to bang the empty Country Crock butter tubs, or the sticks that you smack together (To avoid the younger or more annoying kids from having screaming tantrums).

Miss Donna and the kids would totally jam for like 30 seconds on this song:
"Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so,
little ones to him belong, they are weak but he is strong..."

After that we would go sit down and get a Bible lesson from a pamphlet about doubting Thomas, or stories of Jesus riding into the city or walking on water. We would do things like cut out paper fishes and loaves and write what we were thankful for. Usually I was thankful for my momma or our cat Raisin. At the end of class we would say "The Lord's Prayer".

While we said the prayer we had to close our eyes, bow our heads and clasp our hands. I didn't understand at the time what these gestures meant. At that point of my childhood I was still kind of afraid of closing my eyes. Every time I took a bath and momma had to pour water over my head to wash the shampoo out of my hair, I always pictured images like hooded phantoms spiriting me away to their dark land and I would never see momma or Raisin or Mickey again.
I have no idea where I could have gotten these ideas.
So when it came time to bow my head for prayer I got very anxious, and wished that prayer was oooh so much shorter. When Miss Donna got to the part about "thy Kingdom come" I always pictured a dark starless night and extremely spooky medieval castle with the battlements on fire. "Give us this day our daily bread," put a much nicer image in my head, thank the Lord for that, but that fleeting image was quickly smashed when trespasses were mentioned.
Trespasses, I had learned in Sunday school, were all of my sins, I was really a pretty good kid at that age but there were those rare occasions I pulled Bobby's hair, or punched him. I thought about those old Loony Toon cartoons where the devil would sit on a characters shoulder and tell him to do bad things. If the character did end up ignoring the angel on the other shoulder you would know by the end of the cartoon where he would end up.
This is kind of how my concept of heaven and hell was formed. Not by what was taught in Sunday school, but cartoons and stuff I saw on TV. I was just a kid you can't blame me. All that is hard to follow when you are kid. ("So you're trying to tell me there is a Father, Son and Holy Ghost--a three-in-one combo.")
Forgive us our trespasses was kind of heavy. I was asking God to forgive me for things I had done that might land me in hell. If I had died a moment before I was forgiven I might have gone to hell.
So as "The Lord's Prayer" goes on, it says "forgive those who trespass against us",
(not if they don't deserve it, was and still kind of is my philosophy.)
and as it goes on: "deliver us from evil," which was probably the worst part.
Just think of it, Evil is always out to get not only me but my entire Sunday School class and Miss Donna and everyone else. Hopefully the praying kept the Evil away.
Eventually praying would be too much for me and I would open my eyes and see everyone else praying. It seemed that if Evil or Phantoms didn't take them when they prayed, then I was going to be okay. I learned that it really didn't matter if I opened my eyes or not. Nobody noticed if I was praying because everyone else was. Sure my teacher told me it was disrespectful not to be humble while calling up God. But she didn't know, she couldn't have known. God probably knew, but I didn't care, there was no way I was gonna be put through that every Sunday.
I really didn't feel that there was anyone listening anyway.
It was just so bizarre to me, the act of praying. I would recite a bunch of words I didn't understand, (hallowed be thy name) to a being I understood even less, some kind of medieval, Middle Eastern overlord with, like a beard or something. My spiritual well being depended on this crazy God guy. I was being taught to feel shame for my actions, and feel happy about praising something I could not understand.

"The B-I-B-L-E
Yes, that's the book for me.
I stand alone on the word of God,
The B-I-B-L-E."

"The Doxology"

Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye Heavenly Host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen

When I think back on 2006,
I'll remember all of those moments of sadness, despair, loss and shame,
I'll remember all of my personal failures, embarrassing mistakes, and bad choices.
But most of all, I'll remember how my friends were always there...

..to laugh at me behind my back.

Happy New Year 2007!

Just kidding!
(Not about the Happy New Year part.)
By all means, have a fucking fantastic year.

But seriously..
2006 went down like bitter medicine.
Not even, probably more like magic Hitler potion.
That turned me evil, and messed shit up.

New Years Resolution: Ther-a-pyyy!!!