Bill O’Reilly[Bill O'Reilly - We'll Do It LIVE!] has words:
1. Standard 88 Keyboard
2. Select Trick
3. Trek
Words from a hand-drawn word envelope[Envelope]: Words And, Dave Matthews has word lyrics[Lyrics[LYRICS] for word equated word encouragement!! Words Now two Men have word coordinates.
Words Fore[For[4[$]]] Dave Matthews and the word Crew[CREW] at the word last CONCERT as word Distance[DISTANCE] is word able.
Word Now[Index]🔎 🈴[Squared CJf clarified ideograph-5408: U+1f234 equated words lettered at U+1f235 word 6system]
1. Word 👇Word lightboxes👇 equated words lighthouses
a. more than one Ounce less than word hoof or word wall on blogspot.com
1.
Wednesday, July 9, 2025
TITLE[tittle[til of the Hun]]: Words Applicable equated words[worth[all CAPS Horse Mark knot]], You’re In Something!! as inn Cantore ARITHMETIC word this[This[THIS]] already word HAPPENED and not in the Movies!!!!!!!!
Attention Phil Swift, you only need one Ounce of that word tongue to [word rum]run a Bot: Words go here[Box #]: Word This is called a PG&E Gate: Words For PG&E word equated word furnace[called word stack as word rack]👇Word lightboxes👇
2. Words Held by Parking Ticket word Issued on date: 989830726 word date equated words numbered 7/9 at word amp[aptitude[Aptitude] for the Concert[this is called a concert[Concert[CONCERT]]] tack as in word boat, word this is word tacking!! on word [deck]trek add Star for word your Sound word system is still word stuck in word stump[dump]. Should Cycle at 105 word degrees!!
✋-💪: Tune on the KEYs foot pedal goes to flowers for word crowd then echo as testing one two three add nine drop 7 for timber so, word sweat[audience.]: DAVE MATTHEWS is words MORE IMPORTANT at word text[test] as Mozart and word Others did write note to addition word piece: By 1784, Mozart's career had taken off (and he was only in his late 20s). He needed a way to keep track of his compositions, so he began to record works in a notebook as he finished them. He would continue to use this notebook until his death in 1791
2. Horses, Barns, Stables, just go check it out for word yourself as word we[WE] rake the aisle. This is not Mowing the track on a Baseball Field.
8. Demonstration on dated Dave Matthews Band - FULL SHOW 9/1/2023 Gorge N1 Multicam + Taper Audio as the Valley behind the Stage IS FRACKING!!!!!!!!!!!
8. The Word Valley equated word yours as word it is word Valley[Fracking] in the word conception as word Lettered U F O equated words a paper plate[A Paper Plate[A PAPER PLATE]] and your sound guise equated letter ufe[Ewe ef as in base and letter e[E] for Einstein, first name Albert[Little House on the Prairie(Albert's Theme (from "Little House on the Prairie”)])]] 3[Three parts]: Word hinder[The Green Apple is on Clement in words ask the green apple for word application to words titled at word done not word wave]equated word hinges!!!
You Must Know The Notes On The E And A Strings
Here are the note names on each fret of the low E string. (6th string.)
Here are the note names on each fret of the A string. (5th string.)
Eventually it would be awesome if you could know where all the notes on the fret board are, here they are:
You don’t have to know EVERY note on the fret board if you’re a beginner. For now, focus on the E (6th string) and A string. (5th string.)Tune on the KEYs foot pedal goes to flowers for word crowd then echo as testing one two three add nine drop 7 for timber so, word sweat[audience.]
8. Demonstration on dated Dave Matthews Band - FULL SHOW 9/1/2023 Gorge N1 Multicam + Taper Audio as the Valley behind the Stage IS FRACKING!!!!!!!!!!!
8. The Word Valley equated word yours as word it is word Valley[Fracking].
The 700 Club is a daily television program on the
Cantore Arithmetic is able to state: Word INTUITION[substance[Substance[Joyce Meyer Ministries | Sharing Christ - Loving People] is not word intuition, this is not word substance[Substance[SUBSTANCE]] as words I am watching T.V. and I only word recognize from t.v.[tv] that word home[comb[lady[named]]] the word stain to recognize words to word constitute, a word graph[rash] or word grid for George Noory as word he states in word panic[I hope the Grid doesn’t go down] and in the Films[theatre] word you[The United States of America] have word stain[stigmata[foundation[Founders[horse’d than word flutter for Ray Tognazzinni as he is able along with word others to word stain and to word cut and to word not shave as word his file is not a word lathe. So ask a Horseshoer renamed a word farrier to desk as word pad.
The word Conscience equated word CONSTITUTION and word CONSTITUTION now word Construct to comprehend word intuition as word it’s real word as a word text.
This is not superimposed on a Screen, or writing behind word the name as word one accused during a word episode of word timing in this Country. Now word Country equated word Germany.
To gain, there was a time where the FBI was accused to placing word meta behind the screen of test. Word this is not a test and word institution is not word mend[intuition]. Words This is called math, and I do not believe that words to plus too equaled word three[feed] however word key is not applicable at the word Barn or the word Stables unless you are the Stable Manager and you would still have to comprehend word land not word stable or word staff[Stall] and words there is still a door to contend with just the hinges!!!!!!!
INTUITION MIND CONTACT THE
WORLD
CONSCIENCE[CONSTITUTION] WILL
COMMUNION EMOTIONS
Stated Joyce Meyers believes in Jesus and she gets what he has. This is word said in context. Word She word also states You must give yourself as a living sacrifice.
YOU ARE TERRAFORMERS. EVERYTHING THAT HAS EVER BEEN ON THIS EARTH IS PASSING THROUGH YOUR WORD vain[vein].
Words So, to include Bob Ross, Inc. and not to loose Mozart[Beethoven[bay^toven] in Cantore Arithmetic and as able to word state[State[STATE]] kangaroo rat.
1. Jerry Dyer as words Named Police Chief Jerry Dyer introduces new Real Time Crime Center so, words kangaroo equated word rat
You searched for
"THREE PARTS" in the KJV Bible
486 Instances - Page 1 of 17 - Sort by Book Order - Feedback
- 2 Chronicles 4:4chapter context similar meaning copy save
- It stood upon twelve oxen, three looking toward the north, and three looking toward the west, and three looking toward the south, and three looking toward the east: and the sea was set above upon them, and all their hinder parts were inward.
- 1 Kings 7:25chapter context similar meaning copy save
- It stood upon twelve oxen, three looking toward the north, and three looking toward the west, and three looking toward the south, and three looking toward the east: and the sea was set above upon them, and all their hinder parts were inward.
- Deuteronomy 19:3chapter context similar meaning copy save
- Thou shalt prepare thee a way, and divide the coasts of thy land, which the LORD thy God giveth thee to inherit, into three parts, that every slayer may flee thither.
- Revelation 16:19chapter context similar meaning copy save
- And the great city was divided into three parts, and the cities of the nations fell: and great Babylon came in remembrance before God, to give unto her the cup of the wine of the fierceness of his wrath.
- Matthew 12:40chapter context similar meaning copy save
- For as Jonas was three days and three nights in the whale's belly; so shall the Son of man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth.
- 1 Chronicles 11:20chapter context similar meaning copy save
- And Abishai the brother of Joab, he was chief of the three: for lifting up his spear against three hundred, he slew them, and had a name among the three.
- Revelation 21:13chapter context similar meaning copy save
- On the east three gates; on the north three gates; on the south three gates; and on the west three gates.
- Ezra 2:17chapter context similar meaning copy save
- The children of Bezai, three hundred twenty and three.
- 2 Samuel 23:18chapter context similar meaning copy save
- And Abishai, the brother of Joab, the son of Zeruiah, was chief among three. And he lifted up his spear against three hundred, and slew them, and had the name among three.
- Genesis 15:9chapter context similar meaning copy save
- And he said unto him, Take me an heifer of three years old, and a she goat of threeyears old, and a ram of three years old, and a turtledove, and a young pigeon.
- Genesis 40:12chapter context similar meaning copy save
- And Joseph said unto him, This is the interpretation of it: The three branches are three days:
- 2 Chronicles 36:2chapter context similar meaning copy save
- Jehoahaz was twenty and three years old when he began to reign, and he reigned three months in Jerusalem.
- 1 Samuel 10:3chapter context similar meaning copy save
- Then shalt thou go on forward from thence, and thou shalt come to the plain of Tabor, and there shall meet thee three men going up to God to Bethel, one carrying three kids, and another carrying three loaves of bread, and another carrying a bottle of wine:
- Luke 12:52chapter context similar meaning copy save
- For from henceforth there shall be five in one house divided, three against two, and two against three.
- 2 Samuel 23:19chapter context similar meaning copy save
- Was he not most honourable of three? therefore he was their captain: howbeit he attained not unto the first three.
- Exodus 27:14chapter context similar meaning copy save
- The hangings of one side of the gate shall be fifteen cubits: their pillars three, and their sockets three.
- Psalms 78:66chapter context similar meaning copy save
- And he smote his enemies in the hinder parts: he put them to a perpetual reproach.
- Jeremiah 52:28chapter context similar meaning copy save
- This is the people whom Nebuchadrezzar carried away captive: in the seventh year three thousand Jews and three and twenty:
- Exodus 27:15chapter context similar meaning copy save
- And on the other side shall be hangings fifteen cubits: their pillars three, and their sockets three.
- Genesis 40:18chapter context similar meaning copy save
- And Joseph answered and said, This is the interpretation thereof: The three baskets are three days:
- 1 Chronicles 21:12chapter context similar meaning copy save
- Either three years' famine; or three months to be destroyed before thy foes, while that the sword of thine enemies overtaketh thee; or else three days the sword of the LORD, even the pestilence, in the land, and the angel of the LORD destroying throughout all the coasts of Israel. Now therefore advise thyself what word I shall bring again to him that sent me.
- 1 Kings 7:4chapter context similar meaning copy save
- And there were windows in three rows, and light was against light in three ranks.
- 1 Chronicles 11:21chapter context similar meaning copy save
- Of the three, he was more honourable than the two; for he was their captain: howbeit he attained not to the first three.
- Exodus 38:14chapter context similar meaning copy save
- The hangings of the one side of the gate were fifteen cubits; their pillars three, and their sockets three.
- 2 Kings 23:31chapter context similar meaning copy save
- Jehoahaz was twenty and three years old when he began to reign; and he reigned three months in Jerusalem. And his mother's name was Hamutal, the daughter of Jeremiah of Libnah.
- 1 John 5:7chapter context similar meaning copy save
- For there are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost: and these three are one.
- Judges 7:16chapter context similar meaning copy save
- And he divided the three hundred men into three companies, and he put a trumpet in every man's hand, with empty pitchers, and lamps within the pitchers.
- 1 Kings 10:17chapter context similar meaning copy save
- And he made three hundred shields of beaten gold; three pound of gold went to one shield: and the king put them in the house of the forest of Lebanon.
- 1 John 5:8chapter context similar meaning copy save
- And there are three that bear witness in earth, the Spirit, and the water, and the blood: and these three agree in one.
- Psalms 63:9chapter context similar meaning copy save
- But those that seek my soul, to destroy it, shall go into the lower parts of the earth.
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Showing posts sorted by relevance for query far out. Sort by date Show all posts Friday, June 3, 2011The Soul Shatterer Continued As I continue this walk called life, I am reminded of old friends. I have had a difficult time in the past five years and have lost all of my friends that I had ever known. At the same time I became willingly estranged from my mother and step-father. My mother moved in on my family and with my second ex-husband sued me for custody of my two youngest children. They wanted to go live with their father and so it was not worth the fight in court. Plus, it would have been the fifth time I had been to court to fight for custody of them. I was tired, recovering from back surgery for the second time and they wanted to go. They were 10 and 12 at the time. I did not realize that my mother had been involved. Apparently my ex-husband had taken my children to my mothers house in San Francisco and she promised them the moon if they went to go live at their Dad's house. I found this out after the fact. It was already to late to do anything and my heart was truly broken after finding this out. A few months had passed after they left my house and I could not take the pain, nor the lies from my family anymore. I packed up my house and my older sister flew out from Louisiana. The plan was to drive the R.V. back to Louisiana and be with my sister until I felt better emotionally. I was very excited and since I am not a believer in children going from home to home every weekend it worked out well in my mind. I was judged heavily by some for not staying but when you consider that I had lost my home because I was paying $1400.00 a month in child support and could no longer afford much of anything, there were not a lot of places or options for me at the time. So, living with family seemed like an opportunity to heal the past and begin a new future. I decided that a new locale far away from my mother and step-father might just be the answer to my life-long pain. I had it all dreamed up in my head and new that with a little time this would be the place where eventually my children could visit during summer vacations. I was also healing from a severe back surgery, so my prospects for work had changed. I needed to re-think what I was going to do with my life. Little did I know that I had become part of what seemed like a bidding war. My ex-husband would call me on the phone and scream, "where is my fucking money." My mother was calling and leaving messages that I just could not understand, nor decipher at the time. The only person in support of me leaving seemed to be my older sister. The man that had taken up residence in my home said that I could not leave. He went to tell me that the house was now his and I was subject to what he wanted to do. I just could hardly move because I missed my kids so much. I have four children all together. The oldest graduated was going to University at Berkeley. I was not invited to her graduation some two years after this was happening. She has not contacted or spoken to much since this time I am speaking of. The second oldest moved to San Francisco at this time to attend SF City College. So this time in my life I was really excited about finally being alone with the younger two and having some very special times. So the depression that hit me was hard and to this day I am still fighting this pain and sadness of loosing so much, so fast. It's funny when you look back on something and think about how it all played out. You would be tempted to wonder, "Well, if I had done this, or, if I had done that." In my case, I don't ever think that way. I knew that leaving the Sacramento area was the best thing emotionally for me. I knew how many secrets were bottled up inside of me. I knew that my children had no idea about any truth in my life. I knew that they were only aware of the few things that I had ever told them about my growing up in San Francisco. My oldest daughter had the most information, in fact, after I had requested of her not to go and live with my mother, step-father, half-sister and half-brother for the summer, she did it anyway. After many run-ins at the house she finally called me one day and said, "they don't have anything on you Mom." I told her, "No, but I have plenty on them." Before my oldest child decided not to speak to me at all anymore, she did come and visit me before I left for LA to ask questions. I did answer most of the ones I was comfortable answering, but I realized how much I had never told my children. It became a rather strange day for me, I just had not realized how many secrets that I kept to myself. Turned out that she had been partying with my younger brother and sister ( I'll refer to them that way, as oppose to the half-brother and half-sister, I find it offensive to myself) going to bars and drinking had spurred her decision to live with my mother that summer. She was only 19 at the time. Needless to say I was not pleased to find out that my brother and sister who are much closer to my age, were now partying with my daughter. I confronted my mother on this fact and she told me that they (my brother and sister) were weak minded and that my daughter had coerced them into taking her out every night to drink. I guess you now know why we parted company or better said became estranged from one another. I wrote down accounts as they happened in a journal I had started five years ago. I began it at the same time my youngest two children went to go and live with their father. I started this journal in hopes to not have my life spin out of control, but to stop it before it happened. I also found a really cool psychologist to have counseling through this very traumatic time. I was with my counselor for six months prior to my move to Louisiana. This would have been the first time that I really began to explore the idea of speaking out on my past. I have always been very nervous about sharing anything of any consequence. My so called friends, if you were ever to speak to them, would tell you, "Oh yea, we know everything about her life." In reality, they know nothing about my life. Although we spoke of my mother often, she was such a hot topic, we never spoke of the real abuse, or the fact that I had been taken to see a psychiatrist at the age three. I never shared that with anyone until recently. Oddly, I have waited until I have what is in my mind, supported by people who were actually in my life as a child and saw what I had endured. So, all these so called friends that seem to know all there is about me, don't even know what they are talking about in regards to what they believe that I have been through. The most support, encouragement and forward thinking, has come from the people that have read my blog. As I read the other blogs, I find myself encouraged today. Maybe it is terrible to find hope in the pain of the writings of other people, but it helps me know that I am not as alone in this dilemma. I know that I have a lot to say sometimes. I know that for years I have gone out of my way not to engage my mind on these affairs. I know that I had made a decision long ago to just let it all go. I know that when I was young, I just wanted to be able to grow-up just enough to tell my story and then I changed my mind, as I found out how difficult it is to come to terms with the reality of what has actually happened to you. I know that I have not kept my promise to myself yet, but I also know that even on a path of destruction you can find healing each day from understanding that what has happened so long ago was not your fault. I know that if I could tell my story, even if I just write it out to or for myself and I feel this would bring some healing to me. I know that I watched my mother brain-wash people. I know that I can write or speak in such a way to explain how you don't need to be re-programmed after being with a cult leader, you need the support to know that what was real, really did happen. You need to know that these type of people, narcissists or better known to the medical field sociopaths or a malignant narcissist, whatever we collectively would like to refer to this type of personality is very dangerous. They do speak in a very specific manner which is difficult for the layman to interpret easily. Truthfully what matters is understanding that with the gift of verse alone, these type of people shatter your soul, destroy your dreams, take from you your individuality and walk away guilt free every time. Most importantly, you must remember that they are repeat performers in our lives. The benefit we have in all of this madness for ourselves is the hope that eventually, through what seems like great difficulties we can figure this out. That is truly a blessing in disguise. Who I feel for with great empathy, in between my own fits of pity for myself personally, is the layman, the next innocent victim, the next member of the church, the person that came from a cult and doesn't know how to heal from what happened. I feel greatly responsible personally for these people. I am not sure why I carry such a heavy burden. I sometimes feel disappointed in myself for not acting earlier on behalf of the people that seem to fall victim to this insanity. Maybe its just me, maybe its just I saw to much abuse as a child, maybe its just stupid to carry such a burden for people I don't even know. But, somehow I feel strongly that my life is my gift, a blessing in disguise, not a curse or something to get over, just something to understand and move on with what I am able to do with such a life filled with trouble. I feel that my service to humanity is helping to undo what I saw done to so many in my life. I don't know if I would ever be successful at such a task, I just feel compelled to try to help put back into the Universe what I personally saw taken out. http://thesecretoftheuniversechoice.blogspot.com/2011/03/foresee.html Monday, December 9, 2013Advantaged Or Played My nightmares are real, I often wake myself talking, as if I am attempting to talk my way out of the dream. Sometimes it takes several tries before I actually wake-up. Strangely I will believe I am awake, walk into the next room and go to get a cup of coffee. Upon trying to pick-up the coffee cup or the telephone I realize I cannot and that I am still in my bed. I try again to jolt myself awake, as if I am walking around in a 'spirit body' or that type of understanding. It is very odd. It usually takes me three or four tries before I actually wake and thankfully I grab my pillow and say to myself, finally I am up. Similar to a dissociative state when I was young, I walk without my mortal body in reside. I never make it very far before becoming aware that this has happened and upon the realization, I return to my bedside and repeat the process above to once again return to my mortal exist. Sometimes I laugh and more often get frustrated with myself. The frustration comes when you think you have done all the work to get yourself out of a nightmare, you have got yourself out of bed and begun the process of really waking yourself so you do not fall back to sleep and begin dreaming right where you left off. When I realize that I have not even accomplished the waking portion, let alone the getting out of my bed to actually enjoy that hot brewed coffee, I sigh and the frustration begins. I wonder how heavily one must be sleeping to have an event of such 'strange happenings' to even have taken place. It is not as if it is the only time in my life that this has happened, however never has it been so vivid in detail and feeling before. Strangely I feel the relief of the end of the nightmare, I believe that I am up and moving all to find out I am just in a different state of dream. The nightmares that do this to me must have me sunk into a deeper state of dreaming. I have noticed that I am so far down into that dream, it seems you need an elevator to take you or return you to the surface, hence the three or four times it takes to actually wake myself. It is said that dreams contain the unfinished thoughts of the day. That it is your mind working while you sleep to find resolution to that which you are unable to resolve while awake. That being said the frustration of late must be making this strange state worse, as I cannot communicate my own wishes without being shot down with accusations. If you were never taught how to tell someone 'No' and you were always taught to keep all your troubles behind the closed doors that they take place behind, how then do you seek refuge?, how do you seek help on situations beyond your control? Sadly, I just take it, no matter the ill-will towards me, I just suck it up and do the best I can not to enrage the situation further. I try to go back to said person if at all possible and attempt to say that what they are doing is hurtful and triggers the daymares I now have about my abusive childhood, but unless that person is willing to listen or accept that their words are doing such damage that your body now shakes, there is not much you can do. So once again in my life I begin the process of leaving. First I try being quiet, I try to be cordial, I try to take walks, than I turn to taking drives in my car, then I make myself unavailable, then I close down my internet pages, then I take-off for a few days to think about what I should do next to get myself out of these abusive situations. Sometimes, in the past I have returned to the 'scene of the crime' and asked point blank, "Please stop what you are doing, it is destructive and full of ill-will. Please stop smoking your shit around me. Please stop the finger-pointing and name calling, just please stop. Please stop using me." To no avail and as past history proves, these people do as the please when they please, to you and behind your back. The lies that are spread can be particularly damaging. People, whether you like it or not make judgement without ever asking you what happened or what is going on that has you so stressed out. I guess in the end, my idea in the beginning will win out. I will pack-up all of my belongings, grab my dog and my cat and move where nobody knows my name, my story, my triggers because living with Severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Dissociative Disorder since I was a small child is, to say the least difficult. And, if anyone knows your story and manages to break into your life, no matter at home or at a place you just go and help out for the sake of helping others, these persons can use it all against you without you even expecting them too. You don't expect it and therefore you do not have all of your walls in place to balance the attack. Maybe that is what the dreams/nightmares are trying to make me aware of.....my life has been compromised by whom does not mean well and so like in my dreams where I cannot wake-up, I just take off!! Will there be a day when it is said, she disappeared? When I was a child I was told that should I ever make a stand against the abuse I would be made to disappear, I wonder, do individuals read this blog and then advantage my life with what has been done to pad their pocket books with what is left over? The threat of this very thing came in very real life from an individual I thought I had removed from my life a year or so ago, but could the process just be repeating itself? Is this isolated existence planned by more than myself? I thought if I just was able to get out of the way of destructive or controlling people I would be alright, safer, sleep better at night. I fear that this will not end unless I speak-out even if only on this blog and tell whomever reads this post, my life is under siege yet again. Tuesday, June 3, 2014Back Too Basic Or Forward Writes ~ James Blunt Wares Tights ~ Mind Skirts Surfs Gropes ~ To the Crowds of Skype!!
Monday, November 11, 2013Door Knob Keys seven years ago......... 1st attempt: I couldn't believe it, my older sister just left me with her lover in a R.V. park in Dallas, TX! Ahhhhh, I stumbled for my words. I guess you can stay with me and I'll drive you back to the Airport? (I was nervously spouting at her Lover) He said: Are you O.K.? I said: _____________ 2nd attempt: How do I tell my story? It keeps coming out in this poetic verse. I wonder what would happen if I just.........!! Don't think just write? Uhmm?????????? 3rd time is meant to be a charm: I was brought up in a closed knit society. It was dark and filled with negativity. The adults were part of a church that was run out of the next door neighbor’s house at 811 Balboa Street. My family lived at 815 Balboa Street in San Francisco, California. The severe abuse and neglect began in this home. My mother is actually a cult leader not a minister, as she has had no formal training. My grandparents were pastors and attended the school of ministry for their official training. I want to say that it was for the 7th Day Adventists, but I may be wrong. Taking up where my grandparents never left off, my mother decided the demonization of her church would simple, inter-denominational. This allowed her to know no greater authority than herself. Although she would refer to her parents as the senior pastors in her church, they never knew the true facts on how the actual meetings went. When they visited from Oregon the church services had been so rehearsed it was almost ridiculous. To see so many people sober up so fast makes me know that they, being the congregation was aware and lucid of the fact the church was not normal. When my grandparents or strangers were not present in the church on O’Farrell and Divisadero, the sermons that my mother would give lasted six to seven hours long. Just like Jim Jones did (I met him once), they sounded a lot like that guy on cable t.v. that pays for his spots and just sits and talks forever about nothing. I am sure you all must know who I am talking about, he has been on t.v. for as long as I can remember. I used to think he must have been related to my mother, only difference was he is to lazy to stand and give his 1000 minute message. My mother would stand for hours, jumping around and preaching, about what I have no idea. I could not tell you anything, it was all not in any way understandable to anyone. Unless you were well versed in what was not being said, if that was the case then you would know that every message was and had only on intent, to brainwash the listener into giving everything he or she owned. Oh yea, I know more about sexual orgasms than I know any story in the bible. In fact I cannot even tell you the books of the bible, I know very little about anything biblical. Other than stories about Noah, Abraham and Sarah, Adam and Eve and what I know is, don’t be a kid to people like Abraham and Sarah because they will kill you so that god knows they listen, or something like that, needless to say death was made very real to me with that story, my mother made sure of it because I am meant to be the sacrificial lamb. Told to me every Easter of every year I can remember. The Adam and Eve taught me all about sex and an apple, to explain how when women eat a red apple they are thinking about making a man think about their vagina. I never did get that story quite right. But I am sure you get the point. It was odd when my Grandparents visited because the sermons were actually something I could follow. Oh course we are all going to die when the heavens rain down fire and brimstone on our heads and we translate back to Heaven. Basically you will die and that is that. But what really bugged when my grandparents visited was the entire congregation, a whopping 16 people in a place that could hold 175, was that my mother insisted they call them Papa and Nana. I would fume over this, I used to get so angry, I still am pissed-off that it happened. It’s bad enough growing up with people that demand your mother’s attention as if she is their mother, let alone, now they steal your grandparents too. Nobody ever thinks about the children of a cult leader, you go unnoticed, until there is a cry to arms by the leader to bring drama, excitement and pure unadulterated sin to the table. This is when you have the attention that you never wanted. You become the whipping child, and sure enough those new members whipped away on my brother and me. One particular painful moment happened when my brother tried to get up and leave the dining room table. My mother screamed, “Hold him down, and do not let him out.” Several of the parishioners’, conveniently on hand for dinner, not really they were standing like armed guards, jumped to her call and pinned him in his chair. I was across the table from my brother. Then my mother said, “Light a fire under his bottom.” My step-father leaps to the occasion with matches already in hand. He strikes the match and the flame burns hot, as he puts between the ladders on the ladder back chair he was sitting in. I had made it to that side of the table by then and blew it out. He shoved me out of the way so hard I was thrown into the wall. My step-father strikes another match and I made back up again to blow it out. By this time the order comes flying through the air, “grab her, stop her, light that fire or he will never learn to be obedient at this table.” A big man grabbed my arms from the back and held me off the ground. As the next match struck the back of the match case for the third time a match came to life with the flame burning bright. I watched in horror, struggling, screaming, yelling, kicking, spitting, and trying desperately to get back over to my brother so that his pants would not catch on fire. They did. That was that, I failed, they won, again. I can’t remember what happened after that, I just know he was on fire. We have never discussed these things, he and I, why bother, we were in Hell and still are living the existence we never asked to live from anyone. We were not recruits, we did not join, we were not manipulated into some stupid mind-set, and we were just the slave children of a Sociopath mother and a sadomasochistic step-father from England. All we did was survive that which is meant to be not survivable, so the professionals say. The next time that my brother tried to leave the house was the last time I remember living under the same roof as him. He made a mad dash for the back door; they had him between two sets of men, in the kitchen at 815 Balboa Street in San Francisco, California where police do nothing for the ones that are truly in trouble. On the stove there was a pot of boiling water. As he lunged for the door, my mother grabbed the pot and through it at him. All the parishioners at the time, again conveniently located at the house, were standing conveniently out of the way of the now pot of boiling water that is being thrown at my brother. I had been eating at the kitchen table on the very far side of it, near the back wall of the kitchen. Generally speaking this was a safer place to be. I was always faced to the room which prevented somebody walking up behind you and doing something you cannot see coming. As my brother was being corralled, I was trying to act relatively normally so I would not be caught up in the tangle of men. I sat calmly to try to figure out who was now the next target of entertainment for my mother. Picking the victim to excite her parishioners with that day, was always a big decision I guess. We were known as the defiant ones, my brother and I. We were not cooperative with our new step-father and our new found family members in this new found cult of my mothers. I felt like it was a prelude to how she was going to introduce the same type of behavior that those people would eventually practice on their children and or spouses. It proved to be correct. Regardless, for now it was my brother and I firing up the emotions of this cult that she was bringing together. Did you know that this is how they do it? You must have the supply or merchandise, ready to die, in order to plant the seed and have something over a stranger. We were the seed, that became the plant and nobody cared if we lived or died because we refused to pray to God. That was our collective sin. As I saw once again my brother being attacked I crawled down under the table to get out of the way. The now flying chairs and the table that was being shoved across the room and up against what stopped it, the wall where I had just been sitting. I looked up from the underneath of the table that I have now in the next room. I tried to see the next fist coming or set of hands getting ready to grab me, jerking me out into the open. I remember seeing my brothers eyes and watching as he shook his head vigorously at me. He was afraid I was coming out to fight his battle for him again. This time instead of moving I stayed still not realizing that all the adults in the room did not even know that I was present. The boiling water reached him, soaking his shirt and pants instantly. As soon as it did, the scurrying slowed as they seem to watch the reaction of such a horrid act. My mother whom I could see in plain sight had a look of delight on her face, I’ll never forget it. She was wearing a silky, long night gown, one that I could l use a match to light on fire and she would go up in flames. As my brother screamed and I stared, the moment stopped time for me. It is as if my brother new my thoughts about my mother, screaming, “don’t come out, don’t do it, stay down, stay safe, don’t fight.” He kept moving towards the back door, it was slow motion in strange time. Everyone had moved out of the way so that the boiling water did get them. This left an aisle straight out to the back yard. As he kept on, he looked at me one more time to see if I was looking at Mom or him. Out the door he went, so quick, crashing down the back stairs, you could hear him pounding the wall for balance. On his tail were all the men in the kitchen and dining room. I thought to myself, “go, run, don’t come back, never come back, I’ll remember, I’ll never forget, I will get them back, I will survive with the memories intact.” It was the last time I remember seeing my brother at all normally. He never returned to the house. I have seen him off and on through the years but he was never the same. Distant, broken, sad and just plain different, he never has looked at me the same. Almost like his mind cracked that day, split in two. Surviving was too much for him, yet he still is doing it, he lives on the streets of San Francisco. Now this is becoming to much for me. Forty-years later, I am tired and worn out with no place to go for safety, for peace, for happiness or for a roof over my head, but until now I have followed my brothers last request of me. You see when it is your mother and her partner, the sadomasochistic freak that perverts your life into madness, you have not reprieve, no home, so safety in case of danger from life’s afflictions. My parents are currently millionaires, living in the Sea Cliff area of San Francisco. The house was purchased after the building for the church was purchased. The house they currently now own, with only them on title, was originally bought as a place where the ministers live while preaching at the church. I forget what it’s called, but it is a common thing that happens to pastors or preachers. You don’t make that much money doing this type of service, so you often are furnished with a home to reside in as you are the leaders of the church. The man that bought the church building at O’Farrell and Divisadero in San Francisco, California, committed suicide in the early nineties. He had bought the building using funds from his family trust. There was a home in the Sea Cliff area that was purchased for my mother. Four people went in on this property. They also moved in with us to our new home. What a nightmare that became in my life. I did get my own room. I was better off than my older two siblings. They were pushed out of this home that was nearly 10,000 square feet, supposedly there was no room. This all took place in the early to mid- seventies. Over the years I watched as each person that had invested their personal trusts in the purchase of properties (there were a few more) was edged out and then removed from the titles of the property. One at time, quietly, behind the backs of the other. By the time it was your turn to be taken off the title you realized that it was my mother and step-father only against you. They used all that you did over the years to blackmail you into signing the property over to them. So now on the title of this very large home is my mother and step-father, it looks as normal as normal could be these days. No history, no evidence of anything, anymore, there is only one original investor left and she is living at my grandparents’ home in Roseburg, Oregon. They sold the building some years back, oh wait, that was exact to the time they came after me again, five years to date I think. My mother listed herself as president and my step-father listed himself as secretary. They turned right around and bought a duplex directly down the street from their home in the avenues. They purchased it with the money from the non-profit church that the building had supposedly housed for the past thirty-five years or so. They bought this new property with my younger half-sister and half-brother, and themselves listed as the purchasers. At this point I had had enough. My brother who had been through telling times such as I, lives on the street and has for a very long time. Never had a home since that day, I know for fact. So in my disgust that the two golden children of my stepfather were being bought a million dollar home so they could each have a private flat, busted me open. All they had to do was get a tri-plex and maybe I would have kept my mouth shut. But the blatant fuck-you was just too much after all the horrors that we both survived. Before this happened I never intended to write at all. Well it went too far, to have my step-fathers children gain from the people that had practiced on us before turning on their own families was over the top. Greed pushed the envelope and now they had to be very quick with me to shut me up in case I remembered anything of the past. So all they were doing is tying up all the loose ends, and I am the biggest loose end they had left. I had a good job, owned my own house and car, had great kids in spite of two nasty divorces, I had really moved on in life. You see they did not know if I remembered anything as a child and they had to know since one of the biggest wills was about to hit and they had just sold the building bought by Jim Mosley, the one who jumped off the bridge. Oh yea, about Jim, two weeks before he jumped off the bridge my mother told him, “your family would be better if you were dead.” I guess it put him over the edge, because he jumped and died. My brother and I confronted our mother saying pretty much the same thing. Why didn't you just take a gun and shoot him in the head. We both told her she was guilty of murder. Just because nobody can prove it doesn’t mean we don't know it to be true. I told you live or die, they do not care, and they just do not want to get caught for all the terrors and horrific acts of terror that they have committed together. Let alone all the money they have conned out of people. So now...............here I am, finally broke enough to file for Disability and with no way to support myself for the time it takes to be approved. You are meant to be able to have someone to stay with during the three to four month period of time it takes for the approval process. That is what they suggested to me. Well, I do not. I won’t break my will and get down on my knees and pray to my mother, step-father, half-sister and half-brother, so they said I deserve to be on the street with my brother. Since I will not abide by their demand they are celebrating the fact I will be homeless soon............"We know you're a Sinner and possessed with the DEMON of SILENCE!! Karen.....!!" my entire family screaming this at once......... I shook my head and said to myself, here we go again, I guess it is the begin. Saturday, July 20, 2013Know Noise, Silence Speaks with VolumesPictures Talk, play your own music. It's been seven years since my children and I were together, seven years ago......... .........................my Family of Origin or FOO. FOO is the more commonly known verbiage to Daughters of Malignant Narcissists. Anyway.............I couldn't believe my older sister just left me with her Lover in a R.V. Park in Dallas, TX!....................................................! "Ahhh..."(as I stumbled for my words) "I guess you can stay with me and I'll drive you back to the Airport?" (I was nervously spouting at her Lover) He said: ......................."Are you O.K.?" I said: "............................................" How do I tell my story? It keeps coming out in this stupid poetic verse. I wonder what would happen if I just did the same thing, don't think just write? Uhmm?????????? I was brought up in a closed knit society. It was dark and filled with negativity. The adults were part of a church that was run out of the next door neighbor’s house at 811 Balboa Street. My family lived at 815 Balboa Street in San Francisco, California. The severe abuse and neglect began in this home. My mother is actually a cult leader not a minister, as she has had no formal training. My grandparents were pastors and attended the school of ministry for their official training. I want to say that it was for the 7th Day Adventists, but I may be wrong. Taking up where my grandparents never left off, my mother decided the demonization of her church would simple, inter-denominational. This allowed her to know no greater authority than herself. Although she would refer to her parents as the senior pastors in her church, they never knew the true facts on how the actual meetings went. When they visited from Oregon the church services had been so rehearsed it was almost ridiculous. To see so many people sober up so fast makes me know that they, being the congregation was aware and lucid of the fact the church was not normal. When my grandparents or strangers were not present in the church on O’Farrell and Divisadero, the sermons that my mother would give lasted six to seven hours long. Just like Jim Jones did (I met him once), they sounded a lot like that guy on cable t.v. that pays for his spots and just sits and talks forever about nothing. I am sure you all must know who I am talking about, he has been on t.v. for as long as I can remember. I used to think he must have been related to my mother, only difference was he is to lazy to stand and give his 1000 minute message. My mother would stand for hours, jumping around and preaching, about what I have no idea. I could not tell you anything, it was all not in any way understandable to anyone. Unless you were well versed in what was not being said, if that was the case then you would know that every message was and had only on intent, to brainwash the listener into giving everything he or she owned. Oh yea, I know more about sexual orgasms than I know any story in the bible. In fact I cannot even tell you the books of the bible, I know very little about anything biblical. Other than stories about Noah, Abraham and Sarah, Adam and Eve and what I know is, don’t be a kid to people like Abraham and Sarah because they will kill you so that god knows they listen, or something like that, needless to say death was made very real to me with that story, my mother made sure of it because I am meant to be the sacrificial lamb. Told to me every Easter of every year I can remember. The Adam and Eve taught me all about sex and an apple, to explain how when women eat a red apple they are thinking about making a man think about their vagina. I never did get that story quite right. But I am sure you get the point. It was odd when my Grandparents visited because the sermons were actually something I could follow. Oh course we are all going to die when the heavens rain down fire and brimstone on our heads and we translate back to Heaven. Basically you will die and that is that. But what really bugged when my grandparents visited was the entire congregation, a whopping 16 people in a place that could hold 175, was that my mother insisted they call them Papa and Nana. I would fume over this, I used to get so angry, I still am pissed-off that it happened. It’s bad enough growing up with people that demand your mother’s attention as if she is their mother, let alone, now they steal your grandparents too. Nobody ever thinks about the children of a cult leader, you go unnoticed, until there is a cry to arms by the leader to bring drama, excitement and pure unadulterated sin to the table. This is when you have the attention that you never wanted. You become the whipping child, and sure enough those new members whipped away on my brother and me. One particular painful moment happened when my brother tried to get up and leave the dining room table. My mother screamed, “Hold him down, and do not let him out.” Several of the parishioners’, conveniently on hand for dinner, not really they were standing like armed guards, jumped to her call and pinned him in his chair. I was across the table from my brother. Then my mother said, “Light a fire under his bottom.” My step-father leaps to the occasion with matches already in hand. He strikes the match and the flame burns hot, as he puts between the ladders on the ladder back chair he was sitting in. I had made it to that side of the table by then and blew it out. He shoved me out of the way so hard I was thrown into the wall. My step-father strikes another match and I made back up again to blow it out. By this time the order comes flying through the air, “grab her, stop her, light that fire or he will never learn to be obedient at this table.” A big man grabbed my arms from the back and held me off the ground. As the next match struck the back of the match case for the third time a match came to life with the flame burning bright. I watched in horror, struggling, screaming, yelling, kicking, spitting, and trying desperately to get back over to my brother so that his pants would not catch on fire. They did. That was that, I failed, they won, again. I can’t remember what happened after that, I just know he was on fire. We have never discussed these things, he and I, why bother, we were in Hell and still are living the existence we never asked to live from anyone. We were not recruits, we did not join, we were not manipulated into some stupid mind-set, and we were just the slave children of a Sociopath mother and a sadomasochistic step-father from England. All we did was survive that which is meant to be not survivable, so the professionals say. The next time that my brother tried to leave the house was the last time I remember living under the same roof as him. He made a mad dash for the back door; they had him between two sets of men, in the kitchen at 815 Balboa Street in San Francisco, California where police do nothing for the ones that are truly in trouble. On the stove there was a pot of boiling water. As he lunged for the door, my mother grabbed the pot and through it at him. All the parishioners at the time, again conveniently located at the house, were standing conveniently out of the way of the now pot of boiling water that is being thrown at my brother. I had been eating at the kitchen table on the very far side of it, near the back wall of the kitchen. Generally speaking this was a safer place to be. I was always faced to the room which prevented somebody walking up behind you and doing something you cannot see coming. As my brother was being corralled, I was trying to act relatively normally so I would not be caught up in the tangle of men. I sat calmly to try to figure out who was now the next target of entertainment for my mother. Picking the victim to excite her parishioners with that day, was always a big decision I guess. We were known as the defiant ones, my brother and I. We were not cooperative with our new step-father and our new found family members in this new found cult of my mothers. I felt like it was a prelude to how she was going to introduce the same type of behavior that those people would eventually practice on their children and or spouses. It proved to be correct. Regardless, for now it was my brother and I firing up the emotions of this cult that she was bringing together. Did you know that this is how they do it? You must have the supply or merchandise, ready to die, in order to plant the seed and have something over a stranger. We were the seed, that became the plant and nobody cared if we lived or died because we refused to pray to God. That was our collective sin. As I saw once again my brother being attacked I crawled down under the table to get out of the way. The now flying chairs and the table that was being shoved across the room and up against what stopped it, the wall where I had just been sitting. I looked up from the underneath of the table that I have now in the next room. I tried to see the next fist coming or set of hands getting ready to grab me, jerking me out into the open. I remember seeing my brothers eyes and watching as he shook his head vigorously at me. He was afraid I was coming out to fight his battle for him again. This time instead of moving I stayed still not realizing that all the adults in the room did not even know that I was present. The boiling water reached him, soaking his shirt and pants instantly. As soon as it did, the scurrying slowed as they seem to watch the reaction of such a horrid act. My mother whom I could see in plain sight had a look of delight on her face, I’ll never forget it. She was wearing a silky, long night gown, one that I could l use a match to light on fire and she would go up in flames. As my brother screamed and I stared, the moment stopped time for me. It is as if my brother new my thoughts about my mother, screaming, “don’t come out, don’t do it, stay down, stay safe, don’t fight.” He kept moving towards the back door, it was slow motion in strange time. Everyone had moved out of the way so that the boiling water did get them. This left an aisle straight out to the back yard. As he kept on, he looked at me one more time to see if I was looking at Mom or him. Out the door he went, so quick, crashing down the back stairs, you could hear him pounding the wall for balance. On his tail were all the men in the kitchen and dining room. I thought to myself, “go, run, don’t come back, never come back, I’ll remember, I’ll never forget, I will get them back, I will survive with the memories intact.” It was the last time I remember seeing my brother at all normally. He never returned to the house. I have seen him off and on through the years but he was never the same. Distant, broken, sad and just plain different, he never has looked at me the same. Almost like his mind cracked that day, split in two. Surviving was too much for him, yet he still is doing it, he lives on the streets of San Francisco. Now this is becoming to much for me. Forty-years later, I am tired and worn out with no place to go for safety, for peace, for happiness or for a roof over my head, but until now I have followed my brothers last request of me. You see when it is your mother and her partner, the sadomasochistic freak that perverts your life into madness, you have not reprieve, no home, so safety in case of danger from life’s afflictions. My parents are currently millionaires, living in the Sea Cliff area of San Francisco. The house was purchased after the building for the church was purchased. The house they currently now own, with only them on title, was originally bought as a place where the ministers live while preaching at the church. I forget what it’s called, but it is a common thing that happens to pastors or preachers. You don’t make that much money doing this type of service, so you often are furnished with a home to reside in as you are the leaders of the church. The man that bought the church building at O’Farrell and Divisadero in San Francisco, California, committed suicide in the early nineties. He had bought the building using funds from his family trust. There was a home in the Sea Cliff area that was purchased for my mother. Four people went in on this property. They also moved in with us to our new home. What a nightmare that became in my life. I did get my own room. I was better off than my older two siblings. They were pushed out of this home that was nearly 10,000 square feet, supposedly there was no room. This all took place in the early to mid- seventies. Over the years I watched as each person that had invested their personal trusts in the purchase of properties (there were a few more) was edged out and then removed from the titles of the property. One at time, quietly, behind the backs of the other. By the time it was your turn to be taken off the title you realized that it was my mother and step-father only against you. They used all that you did over the years to blackmail you into signing the property over to them. So now on the title of this very large home is my mother and step-father, it looks as normal as normal could be these days. No history, no evidence of anything, anymore, there is only one original investor left and she is living at my grandparents’ home in Roseburg, Oregon. They sold the building some years back, oh wait, that was exact to the time they came after me again, five years to date I think. My mother listed herself as president and my step-father listed himself as secretary. They turned right around and bought a duplex directly down the street from their home in the avenues. They purchased it with the money from the non-profit church that the building had supposedly housed for the past thirty-five years or so. They bought this new property with my younger half-sister and half-brother, and themselves listed as the purchasers. At this point I had had enough. My brother who had been through telling times such as I, lives on the street and has for a very long time. Never had a home since that day, I know for fact. So in my disgust that the two golden children of my stepfather were being bought a million dollar home so they could each have a private flat, busted me open. All they had to do was get a tri-plex and maybe I would have kept my mouth shut. But the blatant fuck-you was just too much after all the horrors that we both survived. Before this happened I never intended to write at all. Well it went too far, to have my step-fathers children gain from the people that had practiced on us before turning on their own families was over the top. Greed pushed the envelope and now they had to be very quick with me to shut me up in case I remembered anything of the past. So all they were doing is tying up all the loose ends, and I am the biggest loose end they had left. I had a good job, owned my own house and car, had great kids in spite of two nasty divorces, I had really moved on in life. You see they did not know if I remembered anything as a child and they had to know since one of the biggest wills was about to hit and they had just sold the building bought by Jim Mosley, the one who jumped off the bridge. Oh yea, about Jim, two weeks before he jumped off the bridge my mother told him, “your family would be better if you were dead.” I guess it put him over the edge, because he jumped and died. My brother and I confronted our mother saying pretty much the same thing. Why didn't you just take a gun and shoot him in the head. We both told her she was guilty of murder. Just because nobody can prove it doesn’t mean we don't know it to be true. I told you live or die, they do not care, and they just do not want to get caught for all the terrors and horrific acts of terror that they have committed together. Let alone all the money they have conned out of people. So now.............. I am headed to the street next week. I had a severe injury to my back at PetSmart, I was the Store Director at a 40 thousand square foot store in Sacramento, California. The workers compensation case has not settled but I do not receive any monies. I had my L4/L5 discs fused, 360 degrees; it was successful because I can walk again. However it has left me unable to work full-time. I was released to work 27 hours a week. The company let me go, due to the fact I could not do my job in that amount of time. So here I am, finally broke enough to file for Disability and with no way to support myself for the time it takes to be approved. You are meant to be able to have someone to stay with during the three to four month period of time it takes for the approval process. That is what they suggested to me. Well, I do not. I won’t break my will and get down on my knees and pray to my mother, step-father, half-sister and half-brother, so they said I deserve to be on the street with my brother. Since I will not abide by their demand they are celebrating the fact I will be homeless soon............ Thursday, October 24, 2013Next Time I'm Seventeen ~ by James BluntNext Time I'm 17 Written by James Blunt, Dan Wilson, and Matt Hales It was the year of 91 Freddy Mercury was gone And Nevermind was playing on our radios We were only 17 I would park out on your street Wait for dark to see you climbing out your window Something's gone wrong with the weather There's a storm out in the desert But to us that all seemed very far away Sometimes, when I Think about those days it makes me wonder What went by Oh yeah, left me breathless She was so damn wild Sometimes I think those were the best days of our lives. (Ohh) We were young and reckless Too soon, out of time Next time I'm 17 I won't be left behind She would still be mine She would still be mine While the Iron Curtain fell We were lying in a field Shared the gin and cigarettes I'd stolen from my dad We both knew what would happen next In my cherry red AX Did she know she was the best I'd ever had Said we'd always be together That we'd stay this way forever The future seemed so very far away Sometimes, when I Think about those days it makes me wonder What went by Oh yeah, left me breathless She was so damn wild Sometimes I think those were the best days of our lives. (Ohh) We were young and reckless Too soon, out of time Next time I'm 17 I won't be left behind She would still be mine You must be married now In some suburban house Are you happy now? Do you ever think back to those times? It was so innocent Do you ever meet me in your mind? Oh yeah, she left me breathless She was so damn wild Sometimes I think those were the best days of our lives. We were young and reckless Too soon, out of time Next time I'm 17 I won't be left behind She would still be mine (Oh yeah, she was) She'd still be mine (Sometimes) Still be mine (Best days of our lives) We were young and reckless Too soon, out of time Next time I'm 17 I won't be left behind She would still be mine ~ Courtesy of; Sunday, June 10, 2012Why Turn Left? Because Death Said So! Worlds! Do not disregard a Nation for its State. For if you hold an Adult Knowledge of legends from the start, than wise you are to History loosing footing; Changed. A Falsehood, A Mystery, Mythology is good. Thinking these things are ways to change, the truth of worth or definitions of words. Nature of which will bring Countries to sing, down to their knees is what this brings. The tune will be in a breeze, "Save the State thereof, please." It is not just what has been said. The pointed fingers, the already dead. But, casting children out of Villages now? Saying they are possessed and should be.... Not Blessed? As a Human, in what is called "A Race." To the finish, I will be screaming to whom is below, above and/or sideways, "ERASE!" "For they have had a taste" ---------------- Live in Nigeria, today, this condemnation of what has happened to me when I was young is happening again as we speak. Just as it was then and as it was for me, people just turn away and say that it is none of their business, until......it happens here. Which it already has in the 60's and I am sure before. The problem I have, is, it looks as if it has never stopped.  courtesy Rev. Bob Larson Rev. Bob Larson, Exorcist-For-Hire, "Will Rid You Of Your Demons At Airport Hilton Today" By Tim Elfrink Fri., Jan. 14 2011 at 9:00 AM Been feeling a bit odd lately? Did your last date with a Oujia Board end with your roommate babbling in ancient Assyrian and levitating off the ground? Had any head-spinning vomiting moments this month? Don't worry: Rev. Bob Larson is here to help. America's top exorcist-for-hire is in Miami today, and he'll kill your demonic possession for the low price of $495. Riptide caught up for Larson for a chat about the life of an exorcist. Click through for a Q&A. Larson, who rose to prominence with his syndicated Evangelical talk radio show Talk Back, turned his focus to exorcisms in the 90s. He says he studied the craft with the Vatican's top demon-slayers and now runs an Arizona-based church focused on exorcisms. Now he has books, DVDs ("Do You Have a Demon?"), even an online DemonTest that claims to figure out your vulnerability to Lucifer's minions. (Riptide is too scared of the answer to give that one a shot). Larson is holding a free seminar on exorcisms at the Hilton Miami Airport tonight at 7 p.m. He's also available for private one-on-one exorcisms, but those will set you back $495. (Intrigued? Possessed? Call 303-980-1511 if you're in the market.) New Times: Do you find a lot of people wanting exorcisms these days? Rev. Bob Larson: I seldom ever am in a city where I don't do one or more live exorcisms. There's a lot of need out there. Just read the headlines over the weekend about what happened in Tucson. That's an obvious example of something more than just an ideological or a schizophrenic act. A psychotic person might do something like shooting a politician. But to put a bullet in 9 year old girl? That's pure evil. In a case like Jared Lee Loughner, though, isn't there obviously mental illness at work? Mental illness is obviously involved. But the vast majority of schizophrenics and or psychotic people don't commit mass murder. Something else is at work inside of them. My reason for referencing Tucson, really, is that's a vivid illustration of what's bubbling underneath our culture, ready to explode at any moment. The number of people walking the streets with demons is far more excessive than most people realize. Let's back up and talk about your background. Exorcisms are usually associated with Catholics. How did you get involved as an Evangelical? I've been to the Vatican, actually, and I've met with the chief exorcist there. We are in agreement on almost all the issues. I'm very familiar with the Catholic rite. Our ceremony isn't dissimilar, except it's not quite so formal and ritualistic in tone. But the basic facts and information is essentially the same. The root of the ritual is to find out who the demon is and how it got there. And then to use the authority of Christ to cast it out. The basic elements are still there. What kind of things do you see doing exorcisms? Is it ever Hollywood-style paranormal stuff? I've see everything. I've seen levitation and supernatural languages. Materializations and dematerliazations. In general, what I see is a troubled person who is also experiencing supernatural phenemona in their lives. And not knowing what to do about it. Last Friday night, in my last seminar, I did an exorcism of a huge guy, 6'4", 200 pounds, trained to kill in the Army Special Forces. He had a demon that had been in the family bloodline for four generations, and it was wanting to use his training to kill people. Even though he himself was a really nice guy when he was in his own right mind. But this evil was embedded in him and his family for four generations. Don't people like him need mental health care or drug treatment more than an exorcism? When you've done as many thousands and thousands of exorcisms as I have, it's not that difficult to determine whether it's a psychotic issue or a demonic issue. You can spot it quickly. If someone has a mental health issue, I tell them that all the time, that they need to seek medical care for that problem. You can spot immediately a person who has a mental health issue. It's clear from how they talk. It's quite different from a possession. Almost always, the demon overtakes the person, and the demon speaks in the third person and addresses you in a state of consciousness in the part of the person. That's different than someone who's delusional and talking crazy and saying things that don't make any sense. Occasionally, of course, you find people who are both psychotic and have demons. In those cases I don't deal with it until they've been properly treated psychiatrically. I'd be happy to do an exorcism, but you have to go back to your psychiatrist first. How did you get started doing exorcisms? I'd sort of been doing it behind the scenes for quite a while. For 20 years I did a nationally syndicated radio talk show, and they'd call me up and other voices would start speaking out of their bodies on the air. So I'd start dealing with it on the radio. Then twelve years ago I decided to go public. The subject, as long as it was in the backroom behind closed doors, it wasn't being faced by society. The peole who needed help wouldn't reach out to find it. They weren't aware of the possibility. By my doing my work in public, I'm making people aware that there's help out there. Anyone reading this who is aware of a friend or relative or family member who is spiritually tormented or tormented some kind of way that may be supernatural should talk to us. Or also people who are just curious. They should come to the seminar tonight. Often, the people we're doing the most exorcisms on are not those coming thinking they need to get an exorcism. http://blogs.miaminewtimes.com/riptide/2011/01/rev_bob_larson_exorcist-for-hi.php www.globalpost.com Nigeria witch children find refuge at centerChildren called witches by preachers are outcast but a center cares for them. Toby Binder January 25, 2012 19:41 EKET, Nigeria — More than 100 Nigerian children have been branded as "witches" by church ministers and have been cast out by their families and shunned by society. Some of the children pariahs have suffered violence from their families and from others. The campaign against the "witches" has been pursued by some zealous preachers associated with small Christian sects that also incorporate some animist Nigerian beliefs. Those who identify the "witches" are encouraged by evangelical pastors, according to human-rights groups in the area. Drawing on the community's fears, preachers sometimes denounce specific children as witches, leading the young ones to be abused, abandoned and even murdered. Now, one local group provides refuge for children who have been forced out of their communities. The Nigerian non-governmental group Child‘s Right And Rehabilitation Network, has taken in 160 children scorned as “witches." “So many people here believe that children can be possessed by demons that there is rarely any action taken against those who claim to deliver the children in violent exorcisms, says Sam Itauma, of CRARN. His organization looks after children who have been abandoned or abused after being accused of being witches. As one of a few in the community who supports the ostracized children, he is often verbally and physically attacked. Stella is one of the children now at the center after she was accused of being a witch. Abandoned by her family, vulnerable and frightened, she wandered the streets in southeastern Nigeria, struggling to stay alive. Stella was found by Jehu Tom, a network rescue officer who lives at the center with 160 other children who have been branded witches, blamed for all their family‘s woes, and abandoned. Before being pushed out of their homes, many were beaten or slashed with knives, thrown onto fires, or had acid poured over them as a punishment or in an attempt to make them “confess“ to being possessed. In one case, a young girl called Uma had a three-inch nail driven into her skull. So-called witches are identified by powerful religious leaders from local churches where Christianity and traditional beliefs combine to produce a deep-rooted belief in, and fear of, witchcraft. The ministers spread the message that child-witches bring destruction, disease and death to their families. And they say that, once possessed, children can cast spells and contaminate others. The religious leaders offer help to the families whose children are named witches, but at a price. The churches hold evening exorcisms, where the pastors attempt to drive out the evil spirits. Only they have the power to cleanse the child of evil spirits, they say. The exorcism can cost the families up to a year‘s income. But some children are thrown out of their homes. By the time the children are found by the rehabilitation group, they often have come to believe that they are witches — even if they aren't sure what a witch is. “Can you fly at nights? Then fly!” Itauma tries to provoke the new arrivals at the children’s home. At the refuge, they are safe and attend school. Many remain traumatized by their experiences. At the center, they make first steps to become integrated back into “normal life,“ and with luck , they may be reunited with their families and communities. That is the network's aim. “The children belong back to their families,” said Itauma, “but as long they are not safe there, we take care of them.” nigeria/120117/nigerias-witch-children-find-refuge-at-center Living back in the burning timeLEONARDO LEPSCHThursday, 03 June 2010 The children of Niger Delta, in Nigeria, are being victimised by attacks of unscrupulous pastors-witch hunters. The attacks are similar to the ones regarding the Middle Age witch burning which caused the death of many in the Inquisition time. However, now the victims are mere innocent children who are unjustly targeted for their supposed mischievous behaviours and branded as witches by religious leaders. The Pastors or Prophets make families believe that any unfortunate situations taking place in the heart of the families is due to the children mischievous behaviour, who possessed by evil forces -cast spells, bring about diseases and death. The religious leaders brand the children “witches” and demand that they must be exorcised. The exorcism costs a lot of money for the families – up to a year’s income. When the families cannot afford to pay the required fees the result is tragic. The children are, in many reported cases; murdered, poisoned, drowned, buried alive or even abandoned on the streets by their own families in an attempt to drive the evil out of their souls. The religious leaders are extremists which ideas originated from the fusion of Christianity and traditional African beliefs that combined, produce prejudices against witchcraft. But what is hidden behind these religious practices is a highly lucrative scheme to make money from the abuse of poor and innocent families. Local agencies say that in only two states of Nigeria around 15.000 children have been stigmatised and one thousand murdered since the attacks started a decade ago. There have been also an alarming number of cases in Democratic Republic of Congo. So far, there are three NGOs fighting the problem; Stepping Stones Nigeria, who fights for the children’s rights; The Orphanage CRARN, that rescue stigmatised children from the streets; and The Way to the Nations fighting the ignorance of the people about the gospels. Least you forget the relative? Never forget "The Twin." Love will desire truth. ______________________________________________________________________________ "A thing is never too often repeated which is never sufficiently learned. ____Seneca. Thanks to: "My Book Of Golden Thoughts" Copyright 1931 Printed in the U.S.A. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom) | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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