Sam I Am Blog

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Warrior’s Welcome : Faithful 44

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Editor’s Prologue

January 25, 2015 — Philippines National Police Special Actions Force commanders enter the jungle to “Arrest” a suspected Islamic terrorist.  The PNP’s SAF commandos end up engaged in a firefight with “The Enemy.”

January 30, 2015 is declared “The National Day Of Mourning” to honor the memories of the brave men who engaged and fought the criminals and terrorists in the jungle.

I am a retired United States Air Force photojournalist and editor.  I am a pro-military writer.

Christy, my wife, is a Filipina.  My children, Samuel Ranilo Warren and Donna Junea Warren are Filipino-Americans.  My father, Samuel E. Warren served in The United States Army Signal Corps in the Philippines in World War II.  I was assigned to and served at Clark Air Base in the Republic Of The Philippines in the 1980s.

Needless to say, whenever anything happens in The United States or The Republic Of The Philippines, I and my family feel “Connected.”

I have been fortunate to meet and work with members of the Armed Forces Of The Philippines and The Philippines National Police.

I can understand and related to the grief of the families who lost loved ones in the combat in the jungle.

As a writer, I felt the best way I could express my condolences to the family members was to author a short story to celebrate the devotion, duty and dedication of the Philippines National Police Special Actions Force commandos.

Samuel E. Warren Jr.

One Warren Way

Barangay Baras, Republic Of The Philippines

Warriors Welcome: Faithful 44

FALLEN 44 Graphic e164b190-a820-11e4-b9c1-bf0dde9868b9_Screen-Shot-2015-01-30-at-9-32-29-AM

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Trumpets Of The Universe sound.  Planets in space reverberate. 

Comets and asteroids brighten for an instant and shimmer as the celestial symphony of sound passes them.

The solar bodies of stars glow with renewed radiation, which causes them to shine light Gold, Ruby and Lapis against The Eternal Charcoal Of The Universe.

For an instant, The Celestial Trumpets Sound and The Universe is a Crystal Of Courage And Compassion, which spreads throughout the infinite canvas of Eternal Night. 

Not a single scientific instrument on Earth or adrift in the Infinite Celestial Sea will record the miraculous music.

The Archangels and Angels, in their dress uniforms, stand in their positions, on both sides of The Red Carpet Corridor.

The Souls arrive at the end of the carpet and begin their measured step down the great corridor.

At the end of the red carpet is The Mystical Presence Of The Stranger.

The 44 Souls stroll the carpet past the formation of archangels and angels, who stand in Admiration and Respect.

The 44 Souls stop at about six feet away from The Mystical Presence Of The Stranger, which has the energy form of a human, but not the definition of flesh and form.

Before their eyes, the 44 watch The Transition.  The Stranger’s energy takes on a human form in a military dress uniform.

“Welcome To Valhalla !”

The words are spoken and emerge as English, Tagalog, Cebuano, and Waray.

The stranger smiles and nods.  “Call me, what you will, ‘ God’, ‘Mars’, ‘Ares’, ‘Thor’, I am your host for this ‘Welcome Reception.”

“You, Gentlemen, are ‘The Fallen 44 of the Philippines National Police Special Action Force’ we are assembled here, this evening. to salute, honor, witness and testify to your courage in battle.”

“You all perished in combat.  None of you made the conscious choice ‘To Die.’  All of you fought diligently and courageously to protect yourselves, your comrades-in-arms and to achieve your Mission.  No one in The Universe can question your courage and dedication.  You died in service to your country, your families and your fellow citizens.  There is No Greater Selfless Sacrifice In The Universe.”

“Tonight, this feast is to ‘Welcome You To Our Immortal Ranks.’  Tomorrow, you will witness from your positions here in Valhalla, ‘The National Day Of Mourning’ in the Republic Of The Philippines.  It will be a challenge for you.” 

“As Souls, you have your celestial bodies.  You retain the memories of Love for your families on Earth.  Grief, is difficult for humans to understand and express.  It will be difficult for you to watch your families grieve and it will be hard for you to accept and acknowledge the intense emotions.”

“Here, I have designed a way that you can welcome and accept the true emotions without you experiencing overwhelming grief for the families you have left behind.  Yes, your loved ones remain on Earth.”

“They are angry.  They are upset.  They are broken.  They are confused.  In time, they will understand your devotion and dedication to duty demonstrated your undying Love for them.  You sought to protect their Lives and an infinite number of lives around the globe by the successful execution of your Mission.  There was a definite valid reason for your sacrifice.”

“You, Gentlemen, are representative of what humankind was intended to be.  Caring, humane, selfless individuals who lived your lives in appreciation of each sunrise and helped other people on your journey through Life.”

“I salute you.  We salute you.  The Archangels and Angels Of The Universe salute you.  Gentlemen,  I welcome you to our ranks.”

“You, now, stand enshrined in eternity as “Heroes.” 

You out rank every prophet, saint, pope, ecumenical patriarch, archbishop, grand mufti, rabbi, ayatollah, imam, cleric, priest, preacher, or evangelist who has every lived, who lives or who will ever Live.”

“This is Warrior Heaven.  This is Warrior Paradise.  You ended your lives on Earth trying to protect and save the lives of others, there is No Greater Love.  You perished in a thought for your comrades-in-arms, your families, your country and your world.  No God, No Goddess, No Entity In All Of Creation could ‘Ask’ more of any mortal in The Universe.” 

“I Welcome You To Valhalla !”

God salutes the assembled 44, who stand at attention proud, but, slightly uncomfortable at the celestial pomp and circumstance.

The Archangels and Angels salute.

God smiles and nods.  “Gentelmen, the Valkyries, Amazons and Archangels stand ready to help you settle into your quarters at the conclusion of our formal dinner this evening.  Saint Michael and Saint Samuel will show you gentlemen to your seats at the head table.”

God winks.  “Tomorrow, will be a challenge for you, gentlemen.  Tonight, you dine and rest to witness tomorrow’s activities on Earth.

God smiles and gestures to The Official Reception Line.  “Gentlemen, this concludes my official welcome speech.  Here in the reception line are The Ancestral Comrades-In-Arms who are anxious to congratulate on your acceptance into our ranks at Valhalla.”

“I believe, many of you, gentlemen are familiar with the combat records and historic valor of your hosts this evening.  Allow me to introduce General Emilio Aquinaldo and General Paulino Santos of the Republic Of The Philippines and General Douglas MacArthur and General Mark Clark of the United States Of America.”

God smiles and steps back to allow the 44 Souls in their dress uniforms proceed to the reception line.

God proceeds to His Throne at The Command Table and raises his glass to the assembled heroes, “Gentlemen, I salute, ‘The Fallen 44’ !”  God renders a salute.

God raises his glass at the table and looks at all of the honored souls in uniform and into their eyes : “I welcome you into my presence.”

“I welcome you into Valhalla.  I hereby confirm your immortal rank, honor and glory and welcome you, as the risen ‘Faithful 44 ! ’”

The End

Philippines National Police Special Action Force National Day Of Morning Jan 30 2015 Image

Philippines National Police

http://pnp.gov.ph/portal/

Philippines National Police symbol 1017742_710715138969745_6654143956528279625_n

Philippine National Police — Quezon City — facebook

https://www.facebook.com/pnp.pio

Fallen 44 Links

Acting PNP chief: Retrieving, treating casualties in Maguindanao clash a priority

January 25, 2015 11:48pm

http://www.gmanetwork.com/news/story/416668/news/regions/acting-pnp-chief-retrieving-treating-casualties-in-maguindanao-clash-a-priority

At least 30 elite cops killed in clash with MILF

ABS-CBNnews.com

Posted at 01/25/2015 7:18 PM | Updated as of 01/25/2015 10:57 PM

http://www.abs-cbnnews.com/nation/01/25/15/govt-milf-report-casualties-rare-clash

Editor’s Epilogue

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

I am not a religious man.

I do believe it is logical that there is an intelligence in The Universe beyond the understanding and comprehension of humans.

Thus, I tend to believe in “A Spiritual Intelligence” in The Universe.

In my mind and heart, I believe, “Heroes”, especially “Military Heroes” are always honored for their selfless dedication to their country and their fellow citizens.

I choose to believe “The Fallen 44“ have an immortal place of honor in the ranks of all the military warriors who have always served their nations and fellow citizens.

I salute “The Fallen 44“ as “The Faithful 44“

Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Written by samwarren55

February 8, 2015 at 1:58 PM

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24th Wedding Anniversary

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Editor’s Note — I wrote this editorial on my Wedding Anniversary for my wife. I had problems logging into my Word Press blog accounts on that day. Thus, the editorial stayed on my hard drive until I could get logged into publish the article.
Word Press seems to have updated their publish system, since my last editorial, so the format of this editorial may look different than previous posts.
Samuel E. Warren Jr.
_____________________________________________________

24th Wedding Anniversary

Today, Sunday, July 20, 2014, Christy Warren, my wife, celebrates her 24th Wedding Anniversary. Wait, a minute. . .my wife ? Holy Cow ! That means I’ve been married 24 years today also.

I need a minute.

Okay. The shock has passed.

I am surprised I am celebrating 24 years of marriage. I was a single man. I liked being a single man.
My first marriage was “Made In Hell.” Actually, I made the Supreme Mistake of walking down the alise of the neo-Gothic cathedral of The School Of The Ozarks at Point Lookout, Missouri, back in the late ’70s.

I made it a point to ‘Forget’ that so-called “Wedding Day.”

The Lesson Of My First Marriage was simple: I will Never, Ever get married again. Two-and-a-half miserable years of being “Locked” into “Holy Wedlock”, is the reason Why I Don’t Fear Hell. I spent everyday in Hell for two-and-a-half, long, miserable years. I dreaded sunrise each day.

Once my divorce was granted, I made myself “The Promise.”

The Promise was simple: “Never Again.”

At age 24, I won back my “Freedom.”

I never had any intention of ever getting married again.

I was “Free !” I was single, again.” I had a good job in the United States Air Force. Thanks to Uncle Sam, I do my job, salute smartly and I could travel the world. I did.

Again, I was a Single American. I was fortunately to be a Single American G.I. I loved my job in Public Affairs because I got to live my fantasy as “The Reporter.”

I lived to write. My mentor Master Sergeant took the time to really “Teach” me how to use a camera to take news photographs for the newspaper. I worked at it and became a photojournalist. I wrote the stories and shot the photos, which ended up in print in a base newspaper. My Life was complete. I was Whole. I was Happy.

The day came when Uncle Sam handed me a set of orders for duty in the Pacific. Hallelujah !

The Ozarks country boy ends up at Kadena Air Base, Okinawa. I had heard my father’s stories about World War II in the Pacific. I had heard other veterans War stories about duty in the Pacific. I did some interviews and published some of those stories. When Uncle Sam gave me the orders, I had my camera bag packed before my duffel bag and I was ready to catch the aircraft on the runway.

While stationed on Okinawa, I noticed and met some of the Most Beautiful Women On Planet Earth.

I met Koreans and Filipinas. I got a temporary duty assignment to the Kingdom Of Thailand, so I met beautiful Thais, Cambodian and Laotian women.

I was in my 20s and 30s, so I was as “Handsome” as I was ever going to be. Fortunately, the striking blue uniform and my Battle Dress Uniform made even an average looking guy like me appear like a handsome Hollywood heart throb.

Still, I had “No Intention Of Never, Ever Getting Married Again.”
At Clark Air Base, Republic of the Philippines, I fell in love with the tropical climate, the country, the base, and my job. I was a Single American G.I., whose blood flowed and his heart pounded, so I naturally noticed I was “Ground Zero” in the Pacific version of Heaven. Everywhere I looked — Filipinas.

A Single Man In Paradise surrounded by beautiful women realizes Life is more fun and meaningful when it is shared.

One Filipina caught my eye. Christy had a Farah Fawcett-Majors shag haircut. Her eyes sparkled. Her smile was diamond bright sunshine.

She wasn’t tall. Still, she caught my eye and I could see her as a “Playboy” or “Penthouse” centerfold in my mind.

Christy might have known two words in English. Language was definitely the barrier. I learned broken Tagalog and she busted through the barrier and learned English quickly.

One of the things I noticed about my future wife was her independence and sense of style. In the Asian culture, women usually are shy and taught to stay in the background. Christy was one of the few Asian women I had ever met, who did not do the cultural “Docile Routine.”

When it came to style, Christy had the eye of a fashion designer. She knew how to mix and match colors that caught my eye and made other men turn their heads.

We began to date. I suddenly realized, “Jackpot !”

I knew “If” I didn’t marry Christy I would always regret the decision. I wanted someone I could “Love” and share my Life with.

Women came and Women went. I was a single man. I knew, Christy was “The Woman!” I didn’t want to see her, “Go.”

I proposed.

She made me wait.

I kept at the job and wondered “If” she would take me up on my offer.

She did.

Friday, July 20, Nineteen Eighty Nine, the presses rolled. “The Philippine Flyer” came “Hot Off The Press !”

In the best tradition of American Newspaper Editors And Reporters, I had told Christy, “The newspaper comes first !”

My Wedding Day was scheduled to happen — after “The Philippine Flyer” came off the presses. Show Time was 10 a.m., at the Justice Of The Peace office at The Main Gate of Clark Air Base. I and everyone of my witnesses and people from my office were in position.

The only thing missing ? The Bride.

Christy was having “Second Thoughts.”

The clock ticks. Time passes.

I smiled a lot.

The smiles helped to hide my nervousness.
I remembered the stories about being “Left At The Altar.” I remembered Dustin Hoffman in the movie, “The Graduate.”

The witnesses were getting restless. The Justice Of The Peace did some more paperwork to pass the time.

I got restless.

At 1 p.m., my “Bride” walked through the door. Heaven retired an “Archangel” that day. Christy was a heavenly vision. She wore a simple white dress with the traditional Filipina “Imelda Marcos Filipina sleeves”, which rise an inch or two at the shoulder seam.

Filipina First Lady Imelda Marcos made the dress style internationally famous, so, at least, Military Americans got in the habit of describing the dress as “The Imelda Dress” or a Filipino dress with “Imelda sleeves.”

Christy wore her long hair up to create a bun at the back described as Chinese style. I describe her holding mechanism as “Chopsticks”, for lack of a better descriptive term.

Christy was “Perfect.”

24 Years Later — My Bride, Christy is still “Perfect.”

The only thing my bride lacked was “Wings.” I looked at her and my mind’s eye supplied the feathery, ivory angelic wings to match her dress.

“I do.” The two most important words I ever uttered in my life, I spoke that day.

When I die, I doubt I go to Heaven. I don’t care. I’m a redneck Texan. I grew up in the Hillbilly Ozarks. I am an arrogant American. I love my country and my flag.

The Texan Warrens and The Missouri Ozarks’ DeLongs taught me the most important thing in Life is to Live It and Love Your Family.

The Day I Step Out Of This Life and stand before God or Satan and am expected to make a statement about my life, I already know, what I will say:

“Sir, with all due respect, I enjoyed every second of my Life. I had the Best Mother any Son or Daughter could ever ask for.”

” I am grateful for my father. I hit the celestial jackpot of aunts and uncles when it came to DeLongs and Warrens. The Universe hit me hard at times in Life.”

“I am not a religious man. However, I got The Best Wife that any man, in the past, present or future, could ever imagine or ask for. Christy Saldana Warren might not have been an archangel, but, she has always been, My Goddess. My wife has always been my strength, my heart and my soul.”

“If this is Judgement Day; so be it ! I ain’t askin’ for ‘Squat.’ I just want The Universe, Yahweh, Jehovah, Allah, The Christian God and whatever other deities, real or imagined, which live in The Universe to realize I loved Christy Warren with my heart and blackened soul. I thank The Universe for my son, Samuel Ranilo Warren. I thank The Universe for my daughter, Donna Junea Warren.”

“My children have ‘The Best’ of their beautiful Filipina mother. I truly hope, my children have inherited some of the redneck arrogance, cynicism, skepticism, independence, stubbornness,and courage of their American Warren and DeLong ancestors and their ‘Hell-raising’ father, so they will achieve their own personal greatness in their lives.”

“Therefore, God, Satan, with all due respect,my Life is better than I could of ever hoped for. Faith, Hope, Beauty, Joy, Happiness — I had it all.”

“If you gentlemen dieties wanted me to suffer — you messed up ! I found ‘My Wife.’ I found ‘My Life.’ Christy Saldana Warren. I lived on the planet Earth. But, I Never really Lived until I woke up each morning and looked into Christy’s face.”

“My world. My Life. My Soul. I lived as a man. My wife completed me. No silly reward or No eternal punishment can ever separate my from The Love Of My Wife Christy On Earth.”

“Send Me To Heaven ! Send Me To Hell ! Cast My Atoms To The Far Reaches Of The Universe ! I will have the last smile. I had ‘The Best Mother Of Mankind.’ No Eternal Punishment Will Ever Torture My Sinner’s Soul because I had ‘The Best Wife Of Mankind’ — Christy Saldana Warren.”

In the United States, it is never easy to find the Love of another person.

In the Republic Of The Philippines, Love might be totally ignored because people are taught to believe in a God creature or his underling, rather than open their eyes and search for the soul that adds to or completes their Life.

My Life has taught me that Love is The Soul Who Completes You.

Christy has not always agreed with me. Christy, at times, has definitely disagreed with me. We have had our loud shouting matches at each other. However, I would never want to imagine My Life Without Her.

Thus, God or Satan — real or not — does not worry me. None of the deities of Mankind frighten me. Yahweh, Jehovah, Allah, The Christian God can all take a bus to Brooklyn and drown themselves in The Atlantic Ocean. I do not “NEED” or “WANT” any of the silly religious fantasies and mythologies of The World’s Old Tired Organized Religions.

I stood at “Ground Zero”, the day that Super Typhoon Yolanda, came to my barangay in the Philippines. I heard the winds howl. I saw the intense white light around the door frame. The door busts open three times. Three times I rushed put my shoulder to the door and closed it.

None of the phony Gods Of Mankind had ‘The Power’ to take me.

I love my wife and family. The phony Gods didn’t get me and they had their chance.

Super Typhoon Yolanda didn’t take me and I gave her three chances when I grabbed the door and shut it.

Thus, “If” I ever do stand before one of the false Gods Of Mankind or Satan, I will be respectful: I was born a Texan and “Respect” is ingrained in my DNA.

I will not “Fear” because I was raised in the Ozarks by a proud “hillbilly” mother, who taught me “Love IS Family” and “Family IS Always Love.” Relatives who betray you; aren’t family — they are just biological lifeforms who have a lot of the shared RNA and DNA.

Marriage can and does “Create A Special Mystical Strand Of RNA and DNA”, which flows through the blood and enhances the organs to evolve a human into a special, unique human, who lives for his or her family.

In the final analysis, I have, no doubt, I could look God or Satan in the eyes and present my final statements.

“My wife,Christy made me welcome each sunrise. Everyday with Christy was an adventure. We had our ups. We had our downs. We always had ‘The Love.’ Christy gave me two beautiful children, Samuel Ranilo Warren and Donna Junea Warren. The Universe knows ‘My Goddess’ is Christy Warren — my heart, my soul, and my Life.”

Thank You, Christy for 24 Wonderful Years Of Married Life. Thank You, Christy for 24 Years Of Life. Christy, You are “My Goddess.”

I love you, Christy.
Sam

Summer Hiatus by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

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Surf’s Up” on Yahoo News

Summer Hiatus

images2

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

 

I write.

 

I love to write.

 

I write something almost everyday.

 

What To Write

 

The challenge of being a writer is knowing that people will read what you write.

Even after you “Officially Retire” as a writer, you may still want to write and know that you have readers.

 

A blog is an outlet for a writer. Of course, there are so many blogs in cyberspace that a writer has to try to figure out how to attract and keep readers.

 

I remember a rule from an English Creative Writing Class in Galena High School: “Write About What You Know.”

 

When you are 13 to 16, you really do know more than you think you do. You just have to figure out how to put the words on paper to interest the reader.

 

Naturally, when you are 57, you have a lot more “Life Experiences” to write about than when you were 13. I sit at a keyboard and the words flow. I am blessed because I have never really had a problem with “Writer’s Block.”

 

I have been away from the blog for a few months. The problem was not the writing or the words. The problem was “The Writer.”

 

Readers’ Comments

 

I have never wanted my blog to be a “Dear Diary” that focused on the mundane routine of Life like, “I got out of bed today. Nothing really noteworthy happened.”

 

I have always aspired to try and find issues to write about that challenge my readers. I read the comment forms on my blog. The comment forms seemed more and more to be robotic software trying to carry out it’s own “Sell You Something” agenda. I periodically go through and delete the obvious email spam.

 

I wasn’t getting feedback and comments from readers that often. March 2013 arrived, which meant the “kids” my nieces and nephews would be out of school.

 

School Is Out For The Summer”

 

School Is Out For The Summer” takes on a different meaning in The Republic Of The Philippines than in the United States.

 

The kids were out of school. It seemed a perfect time to “Go On Holiday.”

 

I grew up on a farm in the United States in The Ozarks. The idea of a vacation or a holiday is just not a concept that always translates that well to my mind.

 

Farming is a 24-hour a day job that lasts seven days a week. Forget taking off The Fourth Of July,Halloween,Thanksgiving and Christmas.

 

Livestock does not come with calendars, cattle, horses, hogs, pigs, chickens, dogs and cats all expect to eat. Even the humans, regardless of the holiday or the day of the week, still expect to eat.

 

On a farm, Mother Nature is always The Girl Next Door and she seldom cooperates with your wishes. When you need rain; you will get a drought. When you need a dry spell; you will get a monsoon of rain.

 

The Extremes” Of Farm Life

 

Since the constant fluctuation of temperatures never seem to be enough for Mother Nature you can count on “The Extremes” in the United States. The United States is a “temperate climate”, which means we have four seasons, but temperatures and weather conditions can always be in “The Extremes”, during the season.

 

The four seasons often have The Extremes. If you expect a comfortable summer; summer will go in the record books as “One Of The Hottest Summers On Record. If you expect a mild winter; winter will break all the records and be “One Of The Coldest Winters In History.

 

In Farming, the weather NEVER cooperates. The chores on a farm are not something you can do in a few minutes and get on with your day. Farming is hard work.

 

In Missouri, by the end of the 20th Century, small family farmers had to have “public jobs” just to make “ends meet” and to be able to “earn a living.”

 

On Leave

 

Before I enlisted in the United States Air Force, the recruiter told me about “Leave.” I would get “30 days a year.” The word, “Leave”, meant I would be “On Vacation” for 30 days every year with pay. It sounded like a great deal. It was.

 

However, at the time, there were just a couple of items, the recruiter kind of overlooked explaining in detail. First, it is not an absolute guarantee.

 

If the United States is at War – you might not be going “On Leave”, during that year.

 

Second, you have to request the dates you want. The Needs Of The Mission always come first. If you can get the dates you want, then, you get them. However, you may not always get the dates you want.

 

The military, like the civilian world, realizes everyone “Needs Time Off”, so vacations are scheduled. No one ever explains the procedures to wide-eyed kids ready to enlist.

 

The Needs Of The Mission. . .”

 

Third, “30 Days Paid Vacation Every Year” looks good on paper. Uncle was “True” to his word. I could get my “30 Days.” However, there was no guarantee all those days would be together as in getting “A Month Off From Work.” Sometimes you might get a week here and two weeks there. At the end of the year, you could sit down with your calendar and pencil and Uncle had always kept his word.

 

The Magic Phrase in The United States Armed Forces at the time was : “The Needs Of The Mission Come First.”

 

Since I served in the United States Air Force The Magic Phrase was: “The Needs Of The United States Air Force Comes First.” And, of course, the word, “Needs”, was simply another way of saying, “Mission.” The Mission Of The United States Air Force Comes First.”

 

Regardless, Uncle Sam, also known as, The United States Government did their best to make sure I got my “30 Days Leave” a year; if I wanted it.

 

I came from a family of “Workaholics”, so the concept of, “Vacation” was always more the idea of “A Working Vacation” or “A Vacation On The Road.”

 

As Sam The Senior Citizen Writer, the idea of “A Vacation” is still not something I can relate to or even really appreciate.

 

I used “The Vacation Time” to back away from the keyboard. I did not write articles to publish for my blog.

 

Printer’s Ink

 

However, my calling in life was, “News.” I worked as a reporter and editor for several United States Air Force newspapers. Printer’s ink has always flowed in my blood.

 

On duty, Uncle Sam spent a tremendous effort to teach us the specifics of journalism from punctuation and grammar to the ethics of “Objectiveness.”

 

A Military Reporter like a Civilian Reporter was suppose to be an independent and impartial observer, who collected the facts and wrote a balanced story, which offered both sides of the story to allow the reader to decide.

 

The Editorial Page

 

On duty, we were taught never to “Slant” a story. “Reporters do not have opinions,” would state the numerous editors time and again through the years.

 

Opinions, Comments, Commentary are all saved for The Editorial page. If you have an opinion, a comment, a commentary, a personal view on an issue or situation, then, you write an Editorial for The Editorial Page.

 

In retirement, I am still a newsman, which means I keep up and read the news.

 

However, since I am retired – My Opinions are my own. I often express my opinion in print.

 

The Opinion Man

 

My favorite news source is Yahoo. My Yahoo News Page lists The Top Stories, Yahoo News, ABC News, Associated Press and Reuters. I glance at the headlines and select stories to read.

 

I have always been “A Man With An Opinion.”

 

I read a story and being the emotional person that I have always been – I always have an opinion.

 

I go to the Comments section of Yahoo News and leave my opinion in the form of a Comment. To find my Comments simply look for the names: Sergeant Sam or Samuel Warren in the Comments section.

 

Life has taught me when you Live long enough You will have an opinion on everything.

 

I have Lived past the Half-Century Mark, so I definitely have an opinion on every issue imaginable

 

I choose my words carefully to get my point across. I am not a “Politically Correct Person”. I am well past the silly stage of “Political Correctness” in my Life; so I don’t play the silly word game.

 

I do not pull punches with my comments. I write what I believe. I usually write like I talk.

 

Country Boy Commentary

 

I am a proud country boy. Thus, I tend to use the colorful expressions of The Ozarks often in comments and editorials. The expression, “I told them how the cow ate the cabbage”, means the speaker was angry, mad and upset to the point that he opened his mouth and let the words fly.

 

How the cow ate the cabbage”, is just one example of an Ozarks expressions that has a colorful way of getting to the heart of the matter to express an issue.

 

Politics

I find Politics invigorates. It is a challenge to bring people together on a variety of different social issues. The goal is to get people to reach a working compromise on an issue for a domestic or foreign policy.

 

Still, I have little use for professional politicians. Professional politicians try to wiggle around an issue to arrive at a solution.

 

DEMOCRAT MULE PIN FACE LEFTWhen it comes to American Political Parties – I am a Democrat.

 

I grew up in Stone County, Missouri, in The Ozarks, which is one of The Most Devout And Hardcore Strongholds of Republican Politics in The United States.

 

In my opinion,The Grand Old Party is conservative to the extreme and cements Christianity into the approach to changing social issues. I grew up exposed to that stringent political philosophy in the southwest Missouri Ozarks.

 

Since my twenties I have worked in political campaigns against America’s “Greedy Old Politicians” and their problematic, pilgrim, political party platforms.

 

I have no use for Republicans.  REPUBLICAN ELEPHANT PIN_btn_gop 

 

Religion

 

I have no use for Religion.

 

Religion is the Providence Of Fools – created by Fools and for Fools.

 

Some people have a Fear Of Death, so they seek some belief that when The Day Of Their Death comes – they will not cease to exist.

 

Instead of an intelligent person using their mind to reach a logical, rationale solution, some people do what centuries of people have done before them and turn to the flawed fairy tales of The World’s Old Major Religions.

 

The temptation of the insane and archaic prophecies by old dead foolish storyteller prophets seems to entice many people to believe.

 

Many people never seem to stop and question what it is the prophecy is asking them to believe in.

 

In Catholicism, Christianity and Protestant religions you are expected to believe in a ridiculous old dead Arab hippie criminal who destroyed business property. Jesus Christ The Bum, who trained as a carpenter,never worked a day in his life.

 

In Islam, you are expected to believe in an old dead Arab prophet, who could not use religion to unite The Arab World, so he proclaims on-going Holy Wars to destroy The World for Allah, who created The World.

 

Regardless of which silly faith of The World’s Old Major Religions that you fall victim to – you get to spend an Eternity with a Jealous, Hateful sadistic, psychotic, misogynistic entity, who really enjoys punishing people and destroying them for the fun of it.

 

Who gets to be The Martyr Today ?”

 

Religion is of Fools, by Fools and for the Fools, who are afraid to experience the reality of Life.

 

Thus, most of my Comments will be found in Politics and Religion.

 

For All The World To Read

 

I leave my opinions for all the world to read.

 

When you put your opinion out to the public; you can expect feedback. Not everyone will agree with you. The purpose though of putting out your opinion is to get people to think and express their own opinions.

 

At first leaving comments on Yahoo News was simply “Putting In My Two Cents”, but, now, it is an opportunity to get my ideas out there to The Readers Of The World. It is a daily task I enjoy.

 

Since I love to write, I will continue to write articles for my “Sam I Am Blog” and my “Samuel E. Warren Jr. The Prophet” blog.

 

However, I am not going to be as “deadline driven” as I have been in the past. I want to continue to inspire, motivate and challenge fellow readers on Yahoo News.

Sam

Written by samwarren55

July 9, 2013 at 11:30 PM

Posted in Bloggers, Blogs, Business, Crafts, Current Events, Editorial, Opinion, Politics, Religion, Sam I Am, Soap Box Political Opinion, Soap Box Religious Opinion

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Terrorist Won United States Zero by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

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Boston Bomber Plays

The Game Of Lawyers

 

Terrorist Won

United States Zero

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

The reason Terrorist always “win” in violent actions against The Citizens Of The United States Of America is because the United States Government always goes “stupid.”

A bomb is an explosive device designed to mangle, maim, mutilate and murder. Terrorists use bombs because they know the Legal Systems Of The World are wimps. “

 

The Boston Bomber is the current example of a terrorist, who is “laughing” at the United States Government and the citizens.

 

He got arrested and is in jail getting “Three hots and a cot” until all the actors in the legal theater get their robes and memorize their lines.

 

The Administration made a major mistake in not classifying the scumbag an “Enemy Combatant.”

 

Instead of being treated as a ‘Terrorist”; he will be treated as a “Criminal.”

 

How many people have to die and how much property has to be destroyed before the United States Government and the other Nations Of The World realize terrorist are inhumane,sadistic scum, who deserve to be executed on the spot?

 

Global Legal Systems are designed to deal with criminals – not terrorists.

 

Terrorists are a special breed of cretin scum.

 

A bomb is an explosive device designed to mangle, maim, mutilate and murder. Terrorists use bombs because they know the Legal Systems Of The World are wimps.

 

The Democracies Of The World yank out their law books to “protect” the terrorists’ civil rights.

 

The Religious Nations Of The World yank out their holy books to “protect” the terrorists’ “martyrs”

 

Meanwhile, dead citizens are just dead citizens.

 

Governments don’t go after the terrorists for “violating citizens “civil rights to Life.”

 

Religions don’t rally their congregations to support Governments and try to track down terrorists’ for “violating citizens “civil rights to Life.”

 

________________________

 

Nations Of The World, Leaders Of The World and Citizens Of The World keep treating terrorists like “spoiled brats with chemistry sets.”

________________________

 

The Civilized Nations Of The World are “stupid” because a terrorist is a deadly organism like anthrax, small pox or e coli.

 

The Legal Systems Of The World do not deal with disease. Medical people deal with infectious diseases.

 

Terrorists are big bugs like cockroaches that need to be stepped on. Perhaps, complete extinction is an impossible task. However, if you don’t step on a cockroach now and then, eventually, they can overwhelm an area.

 

Terrorists’ Cockroaches are no different. When the world ignores the Terrorist Cockroaches they just continue to feed and breed in the shadows.

 

If the punishment ever becomes zero tolerance to the point that terrorists are caught and executed on the spot, then, the Message Of Swift, No Compromise Justice will set a precedent that the “Risk” is simply “too great” to be a terrorist.

 

Nations Of The World, Leaders Of The World and Citizens Of The World keep treating terrorists like “spoiled brats with chemistry sets.”

 

Killing Machines

 

A shark is a “killing machine” that moves through the oceans killing, feeding and reproducing. Vipers are “killing machines” that slither through the land killing, feeding and reproducing.

 

Humanity at large has policies, procedures and solutions for the extermination and eradication of sharks and vipers that jeopardize, threaten or attack humans.

 

Humanity at large keeps trying to ignore terrorists like they are some kind of myth that really does not exist

 

Terrorists are “killing machines” that kill, feed and unfortunately at times reproduce.

 

Marine biologists might shed a tear over a dead shark. Herpetologists might shed a tear over a dead snake. Only a fool sheds a tear for a dead terrorist.

 

Terminate Terrorists

 

You are strolling through the woods. You notice in the distance a snake slithers toward you.

 

The fool will take out his cell phone and try to call a game warden, the conservation department, animal control, the SPCA, Interpol, the Department Of Homeland Security, the FBI, or some other agency to deal with the obvious, imminent threat.

 

The smart farmer picks up a big rock, grips his chopping ax, grips his scythe or raises his double-barreled shotgun, squeezes both triggers and blows the snake to bits.

 

No questions.

 

No paperwork.

 

And, a great dead snake story to share with friends and family for generations to come.

 

Terrorists are not people.

 

Terrorists are not humans.

 

Terrorists, whether in groups, or the lone scumbag, are vipers that should be dealt with effectively and efficiently.

 

A few questions.

 

A little paperwork.

 

And, a great dead terrorist story to share with friends and family for generations to come.

 

________________________

 

Sharks and snakes

kill to feed.

Terrorists kill because

they can.”

________________________

 

Terrorists are deadly lifeforms, which should be executed on the spot with extreme prejudice like any threatening viper.

 

People Of The World need to “grow up” and see terrorists for the deadly, inhumane lifeforms that they are.

 

The Nations Of The World need to set aside their Modified Hammurabi Legal Systems For Criminals and develop a Zero Tolerance Terrorists’ Execution System.

 

A shark is always going to be a shark. A snake is always going to be a snake. A terrorist is always going to be a terrorist. Rehabilitation should not be even a consideration. Punishment should not even be a consideration.

 

The only consideration for a terrorist should be swift and immediate Execution.

 

A terrorist commits a violent act anywhere in the world, a global alert should go out. Citizens should be able to go to a local government agency and pay a small fee for a Terrorists’ Bounty Hunter License. Then, the citizens “go hunting.”

The citizen brings in the body, or what is left of it to the appropriate authority, and collect their bounty. The Old West Justice idea may sound extreme, but, when terrorists act as though they have “Nothing To Fear”; it is time to give them something “To Fear.”

 

Terrorists might be concerned about avoiding law enforcement; but, imagine if they have to believe a World Of Volunteer Bounty Hunters are gunning for them ?

 

Sharks and snakes kill to feed. Terrorists kill because “they can.”

 

Miranda Rights, in the United States, is to “protect” the accused suspect, “a possible criminal.”

 

Terrorists do not consider the civil rights of their intended victims because they have no regard for humanity.

 

Terrorists should never be considered a criminal because as brutal as a criminal maybe, usually, even the serial killers and mass murderers on “Death Row”, go on the record, to say they had a need to interact with the victims at some strange level of humanity.

 

Terrorists simply use explosive devices to vaporize their victims.

 

Blown Off

Bombing Lessons

 

The World Trade Center bombings in the 1990s should have been a “Wake Up Call” for America. Americans and the rest of the world hit the “Snooze Button.”

 

The Oklahoma City Bombings really should of woke up Americans and Citizens Of The World to the indifference of the terrorists and their insane brutality.

 

The World Trade Center Towers Massacre should have been the “Last Straw” for Global Humanity to actively and aggressively seek out international and domestic terrorists.

 

Global law enforcement agencies should of pulled out all the stops. At this point, the distinction should have been made that Terrorists are “killing machines” and not criminals.

 

Since terrorists are not criminals or suspected criminals; the World’s Justice Systems should not have to afford them protection or a trial for possible imprisonment.

 

The World Trace Center Twin Tower Terrorist were so insane they did not even “want something in return” they simply “wanted to die and take as many people with them as possible.”

 

Still, The Nations Of The World, The Citizens Of The World and The Leaders Of The World simply allow terrorists to slither around and swim around with no visible consequences other than the possibility of the world’s wimpy legal systems.

 

Terrorists have Nothing To Fear

 

If a terrorist gets caught; what does he or she have to Fear. Nothing. He or she might get put in jail with “three hots and a cot” to await trail.

 

He or she might get sent to prison for years of “three hots and a cot” to live out their lives to a ripe old age and receive “medical care” along the way.

 

A humane legal system might even free the “poor, suffering terrorist” to return to his native homeland to die among family, friends and fellow terrorists. Someone get me a handkerchief, I’m getting all misty-eyed.

 

France allowed the scumbag Terrorists’ Mastermind Of The Lockerbie Scotland Aircraft Bombing to return home to live out his “Last Days” among his fellow terrorists’ scumbags.

 

Terrorists really have “Nothing To Fear” from The Nations Of The World and their wimp legal systems.

 

Boston Bomber Boo Hoo Time

 

The Boston Bomber can kick back in his cell and relax because he is in “The System” to play “The Game Of Lawyers.”

 

It is “Wha-Wha Time”, which means everyone on the planet get to pull out their hankies and get ready to learn about the “poor, ittle, bittle, little terrorist who had a hard life.”

 

Everyone has a hard Life – that is why we call it Life.

 

The Boston Bomber Terrorist Scumbag is no different than any other terrorists’ scumbag. He built a bomb to destroy massive amounts of people and property.

 

The Boston Bomber’s gender, age, religion, hardships in Life – None of it matters.

 

He is inhuman scum who choose to become a deadly lifeform of mass destruction.

 

Global justice for the Boston Bomber and all terrorists is simple immediate execution by the most painful means possible.

 

Squeeze the trigger in the direction of the terrorist and take your time or forget to make the 9-1-1 call and walk away to let the terrorist die slowly and painfully.

 

Of course, with a bullet in each arm and each leg, it is highly unlikely that the terrorist would be able to crawl away to safety or find medical help, trying to move on his or her belly out of an alley.

 

Hours later if the terrorist’s dead carcass is still in the alley, drop it in a dumpster and call the garbage trucks to dump the terrorists’ cadaver with the rest of the filth of humanity in the city landfill.

 

Unfortunately, the Boston Bomber is now in The Game Of Lawyers. Taxpayers will “waste” thousands of dollars to prove a scumbag is a scumbag.

 

The money “wasted” could be used to help with the medical expenses of victims.

 

The money to be “wasted” on the Boston Bomber and all terrorists should be as cheap as “the price of one bullet”.

 

Blow Away Bombers

 

A creative end for the Boston Bomber and future terrorists would be to take them to a weapons detonation range and place unexploded ordnance in front of them and detonate the device – poetic justice – to allow the terrorist to experience “vaporization.”

 

The Boston Bomber is in the US Legal System, which means some people have already pulled out their Holy Bibles and Christian hymnals open to “Onward Christian Soldier” and the Boston Bomber will get to relax.

 

As time passes “The Ole Turn The Other Cheek”, “Redemption,” “Salvation” silliness will settle in the minds of jurors and they will look into his youthful “ittle, wittle puppy dog eyes” and will give him “the benefit of the doubt.”

 

Even if the jury gives him “The Death Penalty”, then, the “legal horse trading” will start with appeals and stays of execution and the terrorist scumbag may outlive most of his victims.

 

The World’s Global Legal Systems need to quit identifying terrorists as criminals.

 

The World’s Global Legal Systems need to identify terrorists as deadly lifeforms of mass destruction – a shark, viper or rabid dog gets “put down”; therefore, terrorists should get “put down.”

 

The World’s Global Law Enforcement Officers are trained in the apprehension of criminal suspects.

 

The World’s Global Law Enforcement Officers should be trained that a terrorist is simply a “rabid dog to be put down.”

 

If a law enforcement official in Boston had looked through the scope or over the site of his or her weapon and squeezed the trigger; there would be one less rabid dog in the world.

 

Taxpayers could “spend” money to help victims and “heal” the city’s infrastructure.

 

What is it going to take for Citizens Of The World to press their Governments for a Zero Policy Of Tolerance For Terrorists and a Policy Of On The Spot Execution For Terrorists ?

 

What are the Citizens Of The World waiting for to round up terrorists ?

 

Are Global Citizens waiting for a terrorist to detonate a bomb at China’s Imperial Palace ?

 

Are Global Citizens waiting for a terrorist to detonate “a dirty bomb” at Buckingham Palace ?

 

Are Global Citizens waiting for a terrorist to detonate a homemade “fertilizer bomb” at the US Capitol Building ?

 

Perhaps, Global Citizens are waiting for a terrorist to detonate a dirty , homemade nuclear device in the Dome Of The Rock ?

 

The Boston Bomber is the terrorist in the headlines.

 

International and domestic terrorists will continue to capture headlines as long as Nations Of The World shrug them off like “spoiled brats with chemistry sets.”

 

Terrorists will continue to see the World At Large as A Shooting Gallery Of Sheep To Slaughter For Fun because The Nations Of The World use wimp legal systems to deal with insane creatures of mass destruction.

 

Terrorist Win.

 

The World Loses.

 

 

No house, hut or outhouse on planet earth should ever be safe for a terrorist to hide out in.”

________________________

 

Epilogue To The Nations Of The World

 

If the Nations Of The World continue to shrug off terrorists like spoiled brats with chemistry sets, then, the terrorist really have “Nothing To Fear” from the world’s wimp legal systems.

 

No house, hut or outhouse on planet earth should ever be safe for a terrorist to hide out in. Everyone on the planet, needs to realize a terrorist is a “killing machine” that destroys people and property for their own sadistic view of fun.

 

Continue to treat terrorists humanely and all The Nations Of The World will have to begin setting aside major portions of their domestic budgets for the quarterly purchase of Body Bags.

 

Sam

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons license.

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April 24, 2013 at 4:01 PM

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Samuel E. Warren Jr., The Prophet On Word Press

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Samuel E. Warren Jr.,

The Prophet

On

Word Press

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

 

Every writer wants to make his mark in the world. Ernest “Papa” Hemingway, William Faulkner, P.D. James, Barbara Cartland, Agatha Christie, Erle Stanley Gardner, L.Ron Hubbard, Stephen King, Samuel Langhorne”Mark Twain” Clemens,Thomas Wolfe, John Ernst Steinbeck Jr., Robert Frost, Edgar Allen Poe and, now, Samuel E. Warren Jr.

 

The traditional way, of course, is to work as a newspaper reporter, editor, magazine writer, columnist, movie script author or playwright.

 

Thanks to the Internet, social media, software, hardware, computers,streaming video, cell phones and the electronic inventions from the 1970s through 2013 – tradition has changed.

 

Writers Write

 

I love to write.

 

My philosophy as a writer is simple: “Writers Write.”

 

Blog writers or authors may never be invited to book-signings like novelist authors.

 

However , blog writers electronic articles are posted in the vast never closes Library Of The Internet just waiting for someone to use a search engine – to find the listing tucked away in the virtual card catalog.

 

Lessons Of The Sam I Am Blog

 

I began my Sam I Am Blog around 2005 as a basic one person, weekly, and sometimes daily electronic newspaper.

 

It was never intended to be the “Dear Diary” of many websites but a collection of my writing and photographs.

 

I post stories,anecdotes, photos, opinions, editorials, commentaries, news reports, feature stories, short stories and a collection of my life experiences revealed in a variety of different formats.

 

I had toyed, for a few months, with the traditional stereotypical writer challenge of “The Great American Novel”.

 

I actually completed two novels written out in longhand in two different notebooks. The experience was fun, but time consuming. I put them on the shelf.

 

On my “Sam I Am Blog”, as of March 6, 2013, I had 275 post of articles and photos under my belt on that blog, This post, naturally, changed the number to 276.

 

I decided to try another writing project to add flexibility to my writing.

 

I wanted to do something controversial.

 

Politics And Religion

 

From the time I was a small boy my mother had always warned me, “Never Talk Politics And Religion In Public.”

 

On the surface, it is wise advice.

 

In a democracy like the United States Of America, you should find a way to talk politics and have your opinion heard. I believe what President Thomas Jefferson said about an “informed citizenry.”

 

Once you begin working you pay local, state and federal taxes, which means you pay the salaries of those politicians. Since you are putting their groceries on the table, there has to be a way to tell them what you think.

 

You should “talk politics”, but be wise about where you express your political views.

 

In the Real World, anytime you talk Politics or Religion, in public, you can sometimes watch an ordinary person transform before your eyes into a raving fanatical, lunatic.

 

Talk politics and people get upset. Their faces get red. They raise their voices. Their sentences become overloaded and bloated with dictionaries of cuss words and their tones climb well up into the decibel range.

 

Regardless of the political topic or issue, at the end of the day, a Democrat is a Democrat and a Republican is a Republican.

 

As long as alcohol and firearms are no where near the discussion area, most people will grumble away and come back another day to discuss or argue the merits of their issue, candidate or party.

 

When the dust has cleared all you have really done is waste time and found out ,in no uncertain terms, where a person stands.

 

Alas, Politics is essentially the age old Chevy versus Ford discussion.

 

Farmers who own Chevy and GMC pickups seldom have a nice word for Ford owners. Likewise, the “Ford Faithful” look down on the Chevy lovers.

 

Dodge and the owners of Japanese made pickups are looked at by the good ole boys of Chevy and Ford like, “What planet did you say you were from ?”

 

The Internet is a wonderful location. You find a virtual street corner and put down your soap box to stand upon. Then, you go into your best Voltaire and Robespierre

 

I, Sam The Democrat, keep my politics on my “Sam I Am Blog”. . .for now, anyway.

 

Momma The Mentor

 

 

I, Samuel E. Warren Jr., proudly proclaim myself a

 “Momma’s Boy.”

 

I could ask my mother any question and she would give me her honest opinion.

 

Momma never pull punches with me. If I was “In The Right”, then, she supported me tooth and nail.

 

If I was “In The Wrong”, Momma did her best to try and be the first one to tell me.

 

As a young man, I even asked Momma my “birds and bees questions” and she answered them.

 

My mother was a truly unique human, who lived her beliefs.

 

There was just one subject I could not get Momma to discuss with me: Religion.

 

I could never get my mother to discuss religion with me.

 

I did enjoy tossing out ideas and watching her shift around in her chair and try to change the subject.

 

Momma had been exposed to the Pentecost beliefs as a little girl, but, did not really practice those beliefs as an adult.

 

Every Human’s Achilles’ Heel

 

Thanks to Momma, I discovered The Achilles’ Heel Of Every Human On Planet Earth – Religion.

 

As a young boy, Momma had told me she would never tell me what to believe when it came to religion.

 

She held true to her word.

 

Through the years, I would run various religious ideas by her and her Midwest Ozarks upbringing made it obvious that Momma wasn’t fond of the idea, but, she never told me, “No.”

 

Through childhood, into the International Order Of DeMolay, into college and on to active duty in the United States Armed Forces, I came in contact with various people of numerous religions and faiths.

 

Through my life experiences, I have visited various churches, sit through sermons, Mass and lit incense in temples.

 

I never found “The Religion”, but I did discover “The Spiritual” in my Life.

 

In my Quest, I had to move past the salesmen and the recruiters and I did.

 

Religion’s Cereal Salesmen

 

Religion is like cereal, there are many boxes on the store shelves and they all come in different packaging and flavor. They all meet the minimum daily requirements.

 

I just never appreciated the self-righteous “salesmen” and the “quota recruiters”, who always tried to strong arm their way into my Immortal Soul.

Award a man or woman a sheepskin in religion and suddenly that person acts like they are “God’s Little Brother” or “God’s Little Sister” and they have all the answers.

 

The “Witnessing Religions” are the worst because they lead their religious associates to believe that they have to “spread the word” and carry out the “ministry”, so a man or woman starts to talk.

 

You listen. You can ask questions. But, if your questions have humor or any cynicism, sarcasm, or skepticism; then,”Lo, you are a disrespectful sinner”.

 

If one of your questions hits the aspiring apostle’s nerve or the devout disciple’s ego the wrong way, then, their facial expression changes and usually their voice rises and the person seems more offended and aggressive.

 

The serial salesmen don’t appreciate it when you call them on their “testimony.”

 

Their faith usually sends them out to do “testimonials” like a vacuum cleaner or a tractor salesman and you are suppose to be the good customer and not question company advertising and marketing.

 

After all, the salesmen and the recruiters have memorized the serials of stories and weren’t suppose to know if the product or service actually worked.

 

These testimonial people are serial salesman they can tell you an episode of Psalms, Deuteronomy, or whatever, but, they can’t actually tell you if Jesus ever went out on a date with a woman or Saint Peter’s wife’s middle name.

 

Through the years, I have learned, rather than risk teasing a hungry dog, who I will invariably,make foam at the mouth and angry – I smile and shut the door.

 

 

The Human Computer

 

Sometimes though Religion forgets it is “Food For The Soul” and not the Universal Hardwired Programming Of Each Individual Human On Planet Earth.

 

People can always choose to reformat their mental hard drives with Operating Systems of their own choosing and select or reject various upgrades to their programming based on their Life experiences.

 

The World’s Old Traditional Religions forget they are the FORTRAN, COBOL, assembly, and machine languages of past generations.

 

The sprite, peek and pope graphics of the early humans who were flesh and blood pizza boxes that were amazed by flashing cursors of light from lighting and swamp gas to St. Elmo’s Fire,

 

Like computers, people evolved over the years and Prometheus, got tweaked with enough intelligence to carry his own cigarette lighter and maybe even learn how to wire up a house.

 

Prometheus like other humans sought to expand their human programming on their own to reach out beyond Global Positioning Satellites to interface with God.

 

Meanwhile, while the old religions are still scratching their heads over the Apple IIe and the old Packard Bell 386 in the church, synagogue or mosque basement, people out in the Real World is glance at their Kindle readers, i Phones, and cell phones.

 

While religious officials may worry that they are becoming The 8 Track Tapes Of Humanity, people in the Real World wonder if they have the latest state of the art portable electronics to keep up with breaking news and check their email without switching their Internet Service Provider and upgrading to another cell phone plan.

 

The Vatican got Pope Benedict XVI a twitter account, which got canceled when he became the Emeritus Pope.

 

The old religions are working with the electronics, but they have yet to grasp the ASC II understanding that their doctrine and dogma has got to be upgraded to be saved into the evolving servers of the human mind.

 

Despite the technology of the Real World, there are humans, who get that Amiga formatted floppy and the MS-DOS 5.0 floppy loaded into their minds and they do not want to challenge or risk accidentally overwriting their religious beliefs.

 

Therefore, they backup their religious beliefs to a hard drive in their heads and ward off any ideas they consider worms, trojans, viruses or back doors to their hardwired religious beliefs.

 

Nuclear Religious Reality

 

A Religious discussion can get you hurt, hospitalized or, based on some news stories, in the United States and around the globe: DEAD.

 

The topic of Religion is essentially the equivalent of realizing that you are in possession of nuclear material and realizing that you have to handle it carefully otherwise you are at Ground Zero of Three Mile Island and Chernobyl.

 

Nonetheless, Religion is an important issue to every human on the planet because it always leads to a belief of some sort in an Afterlife.

 

I believe Religion is far more Nuclear than Politics.

 

Politics makes people angry because it takes money out of their wallets and purses, but people know they have to have some semblance of public order provided by government.

 

Otherwise, Life is a never-ending chaos of neighbor against neighbor for property and goods, which results in the legendary Hatfield and McCoys feuds that last for generations.

 

Politics ends at the tombstone.

 

Religion is one of those personal issues that goes to the core of the individual and challenges a person to examine their Immortal Soul.

 

Politics can lead to War; Religions start Wars.

 

Samuel The Prophet

 

I knew a religion blog would serve my curious and controversial needs.

 

 

I needed a catchy title. I got it.

 

I needed something to catch the eyes. I got it.

 

I posted some articles. I did it.

 

I post to the blog and wait for feedback and comments.

 

Publicity is always hard to achieve because it costs money.

 

Free publicity is rare.

 

Now, I have decided to do some publicity for my religion blog.

 

The Samuel E. Warren Jr., The Prophet” blog is on a Word Press website.

 

Word Choice

 

I decided the word, “Prophet” would probably take some religious people to “Defense Condition One status and have a klaxon going off inside their heads.

 

At DEFCON ONE, I would like to believe they will visit my blog and read through some of the articles.

 

In the Midwest, Moses is an old respected Holy Bible prophet.

 

For someone in the early 21st Century to use that hallowed, revered, respected, sacred English word, “Prophet,” would be ?

 

Heretical. Not really, because a word is just a word, but the meaning gives the word Life.

 

To call oneself a “Prophet” is Blasphemous ? Not really, because financial publications have run articles on “Profit Prophets” of Wall Street through the years.

 

However, the word, “Prophet” does catch your eyes and stimulates your mind.

 

The word choice of “Prophet ?”

 

I done did it.

 

The Samuel E. Warren Jr., The Prophet blog is a platform to look at religion.

 

I know I will not change anyone’s religion.

 

The purpose is not to convert anyone.

 

The purpose is to challenge religious ideas.

 

The purpose is to ask people to think.

 

The purpose is to inspire people to seek a religion that helps them in Life.

 

I challenge the traditional religions.

 

I’m the writer, editor and publisher, so I get to be “The Devil’s Advocate.”

 

Feel free to hit me with your “The Beast,” “The Anti-Christ”, “The Blasphemer,” “The Heretic” and other not so nice comments.

 

I have on my asbestos underwear, so I’m ready.

 

Keep in mind though that I do respond to comments left on my blogs.

 

If you want to look at other than traditional religious views, please, visit my “Samuel E. Warren Jr., The Prophet” blog on Word Press.

 

Sam

 

Link

 

Samuel E. Warren Jr., The Prophet

 

https://samuelewarrenjrtheprophet.wordpress.com/

Written by samwarren55

March 7, 2013 at 6:25 AM

Posted in Bloggers, Blogs, Business, Current Events, Editorial, God, Holidays, Money, Mythology, New Age, Observances, Opinion, Religion, Religion, Sam I Am, Soap Box Religious Opinion, Spiritual, The Ozarks

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Sam,God At The Tailor by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

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The Prologue

of

Book One and Book Two

 

Sam,God

At The

Tailor

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

 

The handsome, well-dressed man in the tailor-made business suit sits relaxed in the chair in the small tailor shop.

 

He peers up at me through his fashionable glasses and smiles. He gestures to the chair, beside him, and I sit down.

 

God,” I whisper ?

 

In the flesh,” he chuckles. “Welcome to Luzon. Manila, actually. Technically, we are in a tailor shop in Bulacan,” he grins.

 

God turns his head and whispers, “Good Morning, Sam, Ole Buddy.”

I settle into a chair beside God. He nods at the young Asian tailor taking the measurements of the young boy.

 

God takes off his glasses and uses the frames to point at the young boy. “Fernando Dantes is getting measured for a new school uniform.

 

Tomas Tolentino, the young bespoke tailor, is learning the art of becoming a professional tailor. Tomas has five brothers and three sisters.”

 

God winks at me. “It is the Philippines. In this country, they really take the phrase, |”be fruitful and multiply,” to heart.

 

Obvious, economic considerations aside, Tomas is a dedicated young man, who is working hard to make a future for himself and is working on a plan to help support and educate his siblings,”

 

God looks at me. “I figured you had some things on your mind. The old year ending and the new one beginning.”

 

I frown. “I realized since I retired most people don’t even know I exist, but, my wife might miss me.”

 

God chuckles. “The nice thing about being The Creator Of The Universe is you have all the particle physics, quantum physics, string theory and all those other fancy,smancy scientific scholastic theories and natural laws that languish at the back of your mind.

 

Long story short. You are here. At home, there is a genetic golem that is your twin. Your stand-in clone will be you at that point until you return.

 

My clone ?”

 

God laughs. “Haven’t you ever wished there was more than one of you ?”

 

All the time. Especially, back in the days when I was on duty. I took that whole “Fate Of The Free World Rests On Your Shoulders” literally,” I admit.

 

Indeed, you did.” God admits.

 

Relax. I remember you made regular visits to a tailor shop in Okinawa. Even, in Thailand, you used free time to get suits made at the tailor.”

 

I nod. “In the single days, I believed clothes impressed the ladies. The suits did.” I smile. “I did appreciate my tailor-made suits and I loved the comfort and the fit,”

 

Young Dantes dashes past us and out the door. Tailor Tomas Tolentino smiles at God.

 

God points at me. “My friend is overdue for a new suit of clothes. It is my belated Christmas present to him.

 

Three Suits, three shirts, and three ties. Then, we’ll look at the handkerchiefs, shoes and accessories.”

 

Okay, Mr. Godwin.”

 

I step into position. The young tailor uses his cloth tape measure to take the measurements and write down the numbers in the notebook on the desk.

 

I know you have had a year of challenges,” remarks God, still sitting in the chair. “Give me an idea of where you want to head in the new year.”

 

Overwhelmed. All year long,” I remark, my arms outstretched for the tailor to take the measurements.

 

Everyday seemed like an uphill battle. The nice thing about the holidays is you crawl in your cave and lick your wounds,” I retort. God sits in the chair and jots notes in a small notebook,

 

I feel like a gun shy dog, who is shot at and missed. It is one of the few times in my life, where instead of moving forward, I want to turn around and walk back,” I explain.

 

The tailor slips the tape measure under my arms and around my chest. I put my arms down.

 

God nods. “What can I do ?”

 

I grin. “You are a big player in the world economy; fix it.”

 

He laughs. “Even as we speak, people are working on it. Actually, they are ‘arguing’ about it, but, sooner or later, they will have to settle down and be rationale.’

 

God stands up and watches the young tailor work. The tailor takes my neck measurement. I turn around. I feel the tape from the back of my shirt collar go down the small of my back to my belt. The young tailor jots the measurements in his notebook.

 

My guess is your business plan for the year is you want to get everyone on the same page and moving in the same direction,” remarks God.

 

Leadership is a challenge in any culture and when you have a language barrier that only complicates understanding.

 

One of the most difficult tasks is to try to get people to share and work toward a common dream.

 

The tailor measures around my waist and looks at the measurement. He looks up at me and smiles. He takes the waist measurement again.

 

Your tape measure is right. I’ve always been skinny. I’ve always had a slender waist,” I explain. The young tailor nods and jots down the measurement.

 

I shrug. “This year was rough. I feel empty. At this point, I look at the next year as “switch to auto pilot” and hope the turbulence does not slam me into a mountain.”

 

God nods. “It was a rough year for a lot of people. I’m surprised that you are still on the mat.”

 

I grin. “If you stay down, then, you don’t get beat up.”

 

Seriously, the lumps and bruises don’t heal as quickly when you get older. And, disappointment is a difficult emotion to deal with at any age.

 

The real pain is the disappointment, when you get in the ring, you swing for a dream. You figure out too late that the fight is fixed.

 

Everyone apparently thought they would hit it big; if we failed. We failed at what we tried to accomplish. The naysayers lost out too, which serves them right for their lack of support.

 

I was naive. As a child, I learned to give people the benefit of the doubt. As an adult, I should have been more pragmatic and cynical about my fellow citizens,”

 

In the 20th Century people had The Cold War and The Atom Bomb Paranoia. Still, families usually stuck together, despite the persistent paranoia.

 

The early 21st Century seems to have become a global “Dog Eat Dog” culture that relies on the selfish paranoia of the individual, rather, than the strength of family.

 

The young tailor measures the cuff of the trousers and glances up at me.

 

Tomas, you have to forgive my friend he is an old skeptical reporter turned philosopher,” smiles God. The young man nods,

 

The young tailor makes a few quick pen strokes to sketch out the overall design on the notebook page and smile up at me.

 

I have your measurements, sir. Do you want to go ahead and choose the material for your suits.”

 

God speaks up. “I’ll choose the cloth and the fabrics.” I step over and sit in the chair.

 

God takes off his sport jacket and lies it across the desk. He removes his cuff links and puts them in his left trouser pocket. Then, he turns up the sleeves and steps into position.

 

The young tailor smiles. “Mr. Godwin, I already have your measurements.”

 

God grins. “I know. The holidays. I always tend to put on weight, which makes my shirts and trousers tighter.

 

I think we need to revisit my neck size, my last blue satin dress shirt is a perfect fit, but. I think the neck size is about a quarter of an inch too tight, even unbuttoned.”

 

The young man nods and goes to work with his tape measure.

God looks at me. “The Manila to Tacloban City cargo truck idea wasn’t a bad idea.”

 

A day and a half to two days to transport cargo from Manila to Tacloban City is a decent idea,” I admit.

 

Of course, you have to consider the condition of the roads. The wear and tear on the vehicles,and even though it is the tropics, weather conditions are still a factor.

 

Heat, in terms of temperature. Salt, in terms of salt air and how it works on steel and iron, in terms of a truck chassis.

 

Employees means you have to know how many you need, especially, mechanics to keep the trucks on the road.

 

How expensive are the trucks going to be ? Do you buy, rent or lease the trucks ?”

 

God smiles. “You did your homework.”

 

I nodded. “It was a great idea on paper. Of course, the devil is always in the details.

 

The big detail is everyone had details to add to the idea and project. The day to day operating budget only pointed in one direction: mine. I was not in the mood to change my last name to Risk.”

 

Christy has a good head for business on her shoulders,” God acknowledges.

 

She does. She knows how to put any project together and get it to work as long as people are willing to work with her,” I admit.

 

Teamwork isn’t always a concept that translates. Sometimes people only see the short=range quick peso. People don’t always see The Big Picture of trying to build for the future.”

 

The new year means I’ll stick to what I do best – writing and photography.” I grin. “Perhaps, I will inspire someone.”

 

The young tailor puts the tape measure around God’s chest a second time and looks at the measurement.

 

God laughs. “It is all the fruitcake and egg nog of the holidays. The food and drink does a number on the physique.”

 

God straightens up and looks forward for a moment. He glances at me.

 

Another year of writing and photography, then,” He asks ?

 

It is what you put me here to do,” I observe.

 

He smiles. “You, my son, thought you could make a difference in the world by the stories you would write.”

 

The foolish optimism of youth, no doubt,” I reply.

 

God chuckles. “That is what I admire about ‘youth’ the ‘utopian optimism’ to look at the world and see what it should be and not what it really is,” remarks God.

 

The young tailor carefully takes the measurements and then takes them again before jotting them down.

 

God remarks, “Now, that the holidays are ending, I guess it is time to hit the gym again.” He winks at me.

 

The young tailor jots down the measurements on the notebook and steps through a back door in the shop.

 

God fidgets with the open collar of his dress shirt. “I could use a little more starch in this shirt,” He observes.

 

I appreciate the suits and shirts,” I admit rising out of the chair. “I’m curious though, I figure with the whole switch from one year to the next you would have your hands full.”

 

God glances over his shoulder. “Nice thing about ‘The Creator Job’ after ages of new years, millennium scares and the whole switch from one year to the next, “ God pauses for a moment to listen for the tailor’s footsteps.

 

You kind of get your procedures down and know how to roll with the flow.”

 

God looks at his reflection in the shop window and raises up his chin and turns his head from side to side. “Human life is often about image.”

 

I always enjoy my fittings at the tailor. Your tailor is meticulous in creating your suit,” remarks God.

 

You look good in the suit, but, every time you put on the suit; it is the tailor’s reputation that stands out to the world.

 

Tailors and dressmakers may well be the last bastions of craftsmanship left in The Real World,” proclaims God.

 

Tailor Tolentino comes out of the back with two suits in plastic bags. He beams. “Mr. Godwin, your suits are ready.”

 

God smiles like a little boy at Christmas. The young tailor motions to the dressing room. “Feel free to try them on and see if I need to make any alterations.”

 

God takes the suits and walks toward the dressing room.

 

You and Mr. Godwin are friends,” the young tailor asks ?

 

We have been friends for so many years, I can’t even begin to count all the years,” I remark.

 

He has a very definite opinion on fashion and what he wants.”observes the tailor.

 

I nod. “It is safe to say, you will never meet anyone with more style and panache. He knows what he likes. He knows what he doesn’t like.”

 

Mr. Zeus Godwin is definitely a man, who knows the value of a peso and how to get every centavo out of it.”

 

God steps out in the double breasted gray business suit with the slender pin stripe. “This is a masterpiece ! The fit is exquisite.”

 

God grins and rubs a button. “I can pick this suit up on Tuesday of next week. I would like you to take a look at the buttons.

 

My thought is the thread might not be strong enough. You might want to check with an older tailor, I believe it was beeswax that was added to thread to make it stronger.

 

Beeswax,” remarks the young tailor. God steps back into the dressing room to try on the other suit.

 

The young tailor looks at me.

 

I smile. “Mr. Zeus Godwin, knows all. Mr. Zeus Godwin sees all,” I tease.

 

The fact that he is here means you must really be a tailor of merit.”

 

The young man shrugs and smiles. “It is one of those strange stories of Life. The day I went to be measured for my first school uniform. The tailor was being precise in his fitting of a priest in a robe.

 

The tailor checked the hem a couple of times and adjusted how the robe draped on the priest’s instep.

 

The priest told the tailor it was a great fit, but, the tailor convinced the priest to let him make a couple of alterations.

 

Suddenly, a high-ranking Philippine National Police officer and his wife rushes into the shop.

 

The woman was in tears. The poor lady she was coming apart at the seams. She was talking mile a minute Tagalog and crying like it was the end of the world.

 

The man had a doomed looked and put his dress uniform on the desk. The woman had heard of an inexpensive tailor, who could do uniforms in a rush. She had convinced her husband to go to the tailor.

 

I watched the tailor calm the woman down and look over the uniform with the officer.

 

The officer tried on the uniform. The pants were waiting for the flood pants,” smiles the young tailor.

 

The jacket was tight through the chest and the sleeves were short. The uniform look like it had shrunk in a washing machine.

 

My mother put her hand over my mouth, so no one could see me laugh.

 

The tailor hunkered down and used his tape measure to check the hem in the pant’s legs.

 

Then, he stood up and went and took the jacket off the mannequin in the window.

 

He held it up to the officers back to check the width of the shoulders. Then, he suggested the officer try on the jacket.

 

In a few moments, the officer returned and the tailor checked the balance of the jacket and the sleeve length. I saw the officer smile.”

 

The young tailor smiles. “It was a complete catastrophe. Yet, the tailor assured the officer that he could fix the length of the pants and make a slight alteration to the jacket, so the officer would have the uniform for the next morning.”

 

The young tailor closes the notebook on his desk and looks at me. “Like they say, that is the rest of the story.

 

I started hanging out around the tailor shop and noticed how happy people where and how they smiled when they had on a shirt, suit or dress that was made for them.”

 

Pure Michelangelo,” chimes God stepping forward in the navy blue business suit.

 

He flicks the lint off the sleeve and smiles. God smiles at the buttons on the suit sleeve cuff. “Savile Row. The last time I wore a business suit that felt this comfortable I had it tailored for me on Savile Row.”

 

God nods. “Now, let’s look at the bolts of cloth and pick out the material for the shirts.”

 

Tailor Tomas Tolentino smiles. “Wait just a moment, I have put some material back for your next visit, Mr. Godwin.” The tailor turns and steps out the back.

 

God looks at me. “Are you ready for the new year ?”

 

Ready or not, it will come,” I tease.

 

That it will,” God grins. “You put one foot in front of the other and move forward like you always do. You will be back up and running in no time,” God advises.

 

I nod. “I know, no one is getting any younger. I just want to be able to look at myself in the mirror and realize that this is the point in life that I am suppose to be at.”

 

It is the assurance that your journey in Life brings you to a point to where you feel you are suppose to be.”

 

I nod my head up and down. “Now, I get why God takes me with him to a new tailor.”

 

To shoot the breeze with a mortal and do the cosmic male bonding routine,” teases God.

 

Perhaps.” I grin. “I would interpret it as a Life lesson. When Life doesn’t fit, don’t hesitate to make alterations.

 

Everyday may seem like it is off the rack, but, you should be able to tailor it to fit.”

 

Hemmed in and restricted by seams; you need to find a way to let it out and add some elastic to life.”

 

You shouldn’t always feel like Life is ready to wear and you don’t get to make any changes or decisions.”

 

If you get steamed, relax; you can iron out the wrinkles in your Life.”

 

Like a tailor, take your measurements, look at your patterns and decide how you want your Life to be sewn together.”

 

If you need help, find the tailor, or the professional, who can help you do the job.”

 

In the grand scheme of the Universe, Life can be tailored to allow you to dress for success in almost any event.”

 

God laughs. “Writers. I love you guys and gals. You take a simple act and put universal meaning to it,” remarks God. He lowers His eyeglasses and winks.

 

The tailor returns with the cloth. God smiles, “Now, for the dress shirts.”

Sam

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons license.

Sam,God,Satan New Year Proposal by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

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Book Two

Sam,

God,

Satan,

The

New Year

Proposal

TICK TOCK TRAVEL TIME_resized

 

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

God brought me to a Time and Space Dimension, outside the realm of The Real World.

 

God and Satan sometimes “Shoot The Breeze.”

 

Today, New Year’s Eve, God decided to select a human to attend the session.

 

It is obvious, that this brainstorming session is setting the stage for A New Year’s celebration unlike any other.

 

Satan did not like the location, so He teleported all of us to His penthouse in another dimension.

 

God in his white tuxedo seems to have a New Year’s Proposal in mind.

 

God crushes out his cigar butt in the ashtray and finishes off His brandy. He stands up.

 

Satan, Ole Buddy. You are just too serious. It is time to lighten up and party. I’m thinking a uniform change is in order,” teases God.

 

No !” Satan shrieks. “No ! I sense where you are going. The idea is not warranted and it certainly is not funny.’

 

God spread His legs into a Parade Rest stance and lifts up His head. A supreme ball of intense white light radiates from within His solar plexus.

 

Satan smirks, “His sense of humor will be the death of me one of these centuries.”

 

The rays of light cascade around God’s human form for a moment and then vanish.

 

Call me, ‘Goddess,” proclaims God, who now, stands embodied in the form of a tall, large redheaded woman in a floor-length eveining gown.

 

Satan shakes his head, “You just had to be a Momma’s Boy; didn’t you.”

 

An unseen force thrusts Satan back and He is on His knees on the floor staring up into a pillar of intense energetic blue light. “Alright. Alright. I get it.”

 

The light vanishes. Satan stands up in the stance that God had used. An intense orb of yellow, then, orange, then, blue light casts our rays around His body. “This isn’t funny,” he groans.

 

Satan drops to his knees and stretches out on the floor. The light radiates under Him against the floor for a moment and then vanishes.

 

A large, tall black woman lies on the floor in the place of Satan.

 

Goddess sashays over and looks down. “The process requires an intense amount of focused energy. If you don’t fight it; it is harmless. Poor Satan, all these centuries and sometimes He forgets to roll with the flow.

 

Satan slowly sits up. “Call Him, Santanna,” remarks God. God reaches down a hand.

 

A flustered Santanna rises to her feet. “i can do it. You and your silly little jokes and pranks.”

 

Goddess grins, “When I do it; it is jokes and pranks. When Satan does it, of course, it is procedure, rules, regulations, i.e., business.”

 

Why,” asks Santanna ?

 

In this dimension of Time And Space, we did The Universal Macho Male Bonding Exercise,” smiles God.

 

You guessed it, Santanna. Sam is a Momma’s Boy. In his Real World dimension, he can and does relate to a woman, whom he trusts, loves and respects. Santanna you are long overdue to feel some human emotion.”

 

Santanna looks down at the evening gown.

 

Goddess steps back and looks at Her evening gown. “Exquisite.”

 

She smiles at me. “Since I plucked this design out of your mind, Sam, you get to explain it.

 

Santanna moans, “Great. Time out for Fashion Week In The Mythic Zone.”

 

I know my terms won’t be fashion terms, but, I’ll try to explain the style and design. Goddess wear a full-length evening gown of satin blue.

 

The bodice is, essentially, a strapless bustier. It is an exaggerated M design to suggest the natural peaks and valleys of a woman’s breast.

 

The M provides two functions. First, it calls attention to the breasts. Second, it can provide a Public or a Privacy function.

 

If you wish to suggest, but not reveal, then, you choose the Superheroine Style that stiffly towers over the breasts and casts a shadow to conceal them.

 

Goddess wears “This is The Freedom Of The Press Style. “ The wearer has nothing to hide.

 

The large M cut design simply shields the breasts behind reinforced comfortable material. The design is suppose to gently lift the breasts and allow them to rest on a comfortable material shelf that feels as natural as if a woman is lifting up her own breasts.

 

To provide the support a woman’s breasts stand out like the prow of a ship. “The design to allow the breast to stick out forward is intentional. Men are men. Women are women. God purposely designed the bodies to be different.

 

The physique of a man’s body and the physique of a woman’s body should always be celebrated.

 

Under the breast is layers of cottonballs arranged to provide a cushion to allow the breasts to stick out forward and rest comfortably. It is the only idea I could come up with to replace an underwire. I’m sure someone in the industry can refine the design.

 

Santanna snickers, “We get it, Sam. You are a breast man.”

 

Goddesses frowns at Santanna.

 

I step out and gesture at the cup area of the evening gown. “If I knew more about synthetics, then, I might have been able to suggest a Kevlar, diamond, lycra or latex alloy or composition that would be sewn into the lining and really protect the breasts from injury.”

 

I point to the bodice. “The body of the garment is suppose to be comfortable because at a formal social fuction then you should look impressive and still be comfortable.”

 

My concern is the way the material is gathered together at the small of the back. I had hoped the overall design would allow for a more natural flow like how drapes hang straight down.”

 

It looks like some of the material may have been bunched and is creating an unnatural padding situation. Perhaps, a heavier weight of satin would provide the vertical flow, although sharkskin would probably be cheaper and maybe easier to work with.”

 

Regardless, I chose to embed two structural supports at the side of the garment to allow the bra section to remain suspended. When a woman puts her arm down to her side you do not see the support.

 

I believe with an evening gown a woman should have the matching gloves that extend half way up past the elbow.

 

I step to the back of Goddess. “The back is open to reveal the shoulder blades. I imagined this peaked V at the bottom of the bustier bodice, to allow the material to flow natually over the posterior.” I hunker down tto show how the material hangs down to the instep. “At least, the design rides to an inch or two above the instep.”

 

I look up and Santanna shakes Her head. “Sam, you really need to get out of the house more often.”

 

Goddess reaches down and help me to my feet. “Pay no attention, Sam. Some people and some entities are just wet blankets.”

 

Goddess winks and whispers. “I think you are on to something. You should sketch it out on paper and go from there.”

 

I shrug. “Basically, it was just a mental exercise. You see an actress at the Academy Awards on TV and you imagine designing her a more eye-catching andcomfotable gown.”

 

Santanna claps and steps forward. “I’m really going to be interested in how you explain this design.”

 

Like the previous evening gown, it draws attention to the woman’s breasts. It has the strapless M design.

 

The inverted W calls attention to without demanding attention. The red satin evening gown material flows down to full-length.

 

I etched in embroidery at the side seams of the bra to outline the front panel of the dress.

 

The gold embroidery suggests an Oriental flavor. I used oversized peal snaps at the seams to suggest a Western flavor.”

 

I open one of the snaps. “ The snaps work. They are in line from the armpit to the top of the hip. Two rows of three snaps are above the top of the hip to prevent the dress from accidentally coming apart in public.

 

This is my East Meets West Evening Gown.”

 

The front panel hangs down. The two inch wide Oriental design originates at the top of the hips from the bottom of the structural piping and flows down, along the bottom and up the other side.”

 

I step back and point at the thigh. “ The graduated slit of the evening gown allows the wearer seductive freedom of movement. Here, of course, Santanna has decided to go with black hose garters to Her nylons.”

 

Santanna steps forward thrust around Her shoulders and casts a seductive look over Her shoulder. “I have to hand it to you, preacher man, you really know how to design a comfortable evening gown.”

 

Then, Santanna winks, “You are going to have to pay attention to the shoes though. “

 

High heels may go with everything, but they are not always the comfortable footwear choice.”

 

I step back and look at Goddess and Santanna. “Thank you.”

 

For what,” smirks Santanna ?

 

It is always nice to see an image from your imagination in The Real World. . .or, at least, in a realistically virtual dimension.

 

Goddess smiles and steps back. She lifts up Her hair and it flows. She smiles into the ornate silver full-length mirror.

 

Roman women’s formal hairstyles were hard to beat. They did make every woman look like a goddess.” Goddesses’ hair finishes and a large silver ornamental comb appears at the back of the hairstyle.

 

Santanna smirks at Goddess. “The Punk Rocker, Spike and Mohawk look I take it are out for this evening gown.”

 

Fine.” Santanna firmly plants her feet on the floor and the scattered strands of hair rise to create a formal Korean hairstyle.

 

The large ornamental gold and jade dragon comb appears in the hair.

 

You know, professor, I think, I’m going to spend more time looking in on your mind.

 

I got a tall, busty, black bodybuilder physique out of your subconscious. The end result is I like how this dress hangs and swings on my body.”

 

Santanna don’t try to intimidate Sam. It is New Year’s Eve. We want to party. I think Sam is in the inner reflection mode.

 

Goddess gestures to me. I step up and take her hand. Santanna steps up and takes mine. “Relax, human. You ain’t my type.”

 

I step forward and the two buxom women in evening gowns stroll toward my front porch.

 

Goddess laughs. “Relax, Sam. You don’t have to worry about your neighbors. We are still doing the old spatial time displacement routine. We are at a level in your world, but we are still transparent.

 

Santanna staggers around on the heels and finally reaches the porch. Santanna takes off the heels and drops them on the porch.

 

The guests in the Real World look for the disembodied sound. Santanna smirks.

 


“Shoes, gentlemen. If we ever play this game again. We bring along a shoe designer.”

 

Santanna sits on a porch railing and begins to massage her feet. “My dogs hurt.”

 

Santanna roughly massages the bottoms of her feet. “Ouch,”

 

Santanna stands up and looks at the evening gown.

 

Well, if I have to be in this ridiculous skin wearing this ridiculous get up I really want to look like a woman. . .”

 

Santanna thrusts out her hip and places her hand on it. “Goddess is American 38G Cup,” Santanna proclaims and smiles.

 

Santanna’s breasts start to grow. “Santanna will be an American 40 G Cup,” Santanna proclaims.

 

Santanna swishes her hips and walks up behind me to breathe on my neck. Santanna whispers her best Mae West voice in my ear, “What do you think, big boy ?”

 

Goddess rises and walks forward. “Stand down, Santanna. If only the humans of earth could see The Ultimate Evil Of The Universe has gender issues. And, He, She still has trouble playing it off.”

 

Santanna nods. “Fine. Gender switch is an issue with me. Lilith will scatter my atoms across the universe if she sees me like this.”

 

God laughs. “You are immortal.”

 

And, Lilith is creative,”

 

God nods. I step forward and Pseudo Sam, the genetic golem, becomes a part of me.

 

I stand back in The Real World. I smell the food and notice the hunger in my stomach.

 

I sit down at the head of the table. Goddess stands to my right and places Her hand on my shoulder. Santanna stands to my left and places Her hand on my shoulder.

 

I express my Real World appetite. The Universal Energy flows in a circle inside me. I look at the porch railing in the distance and there is the momentary reflection of Goddess and Santanna standing by my side.

 

Once everyone finishes eating. The men move to an area to talk. The women sit at the table and talk. I step to the porch, look out into the night and light a cigarette,

 

I exhale the smoke.

 

Suddenly, my golem strolls toward the men.

 

Goddess, Santanna and I watch. “The TV is tuned to the New Year’s Eve countdown. The men are drinking tuba and the women are drinking wine.

 

Even without the spatial time dimension, I doubt anyone would notice us,” remarks Goddess,

 

Oh, no, Goddess. The way you look in that evening gown, you would definitely stand out, “I comment.

 

Goddess smiles. “This is New Year’s Eve. My wife is shopping somewhere in Paris for the evening and your wife, , ,” Goddess looks at Santanna.

 

She is at some party in Florence or Milan. She mentioned something about swinging by Greenwich Village or Haight Ashbury. I swear that goddess is lost without the 1960s.

 

We had better watch Lilith or She is going to gesture and re-create Woodstock right next to The Dome Of The Rock in The Holy Land,”

 

Goddess laughs. “Lilith isn’t the loose cannon, you think She is. You just get jealous whenever She negotiates a successful business deal that you overlooked. Bottom line, She has better control of her emotions than you do.”

 

Santanna leans against the porch railing and massages the bottom of Her feet, “I’m getting out of this ridiculous evening gown.”

 

You will do no such thing,” admonishes Goddess !

 

Relax,Satan ! Every millennium or so, we owe it to ourselves to do something unusual for New Year’s Eve. Who says we can’t put a little Halloween into New Year’s ?”

 

Santanna eases her right foot down on the porch, “I did like the feel of my tux.”

 

Goddess shakes her head. “You are not fooling anybody, Satan.”

 

While you have one presence here, I am aware that you are have your cloned presence suited up in a variety of tuxedos and dinner jackets and are in attendance at various New Year’s Eve Parties around the globe.”

 

Santanna grins. “The problem with being the Dark Half Of The Creator is I am the half, which means that you always know what I am up to.”

 

Goddess laughs. “Ah, the challenge of being a twin.”

 

Santanna slides off the railing and limps around in Her stocking feet. “With only a little time left until the New Year, I’m curious. If you aren’t going to pursue a career as a shoe designer in the New Year; do you have a direction?”

 

I nod. “Yes.”

 

Goddess smiles. “Speak your mind, Sam. Satan’s bark is often worse than His bite. He does have a talent for getting the right people to spread the word to enhance His “EVIL” reputation.”

 

Goddess smiles, “But, even with a reputation; sometimes you have to put your money where your mouth is. He usually comes up short on the follow through.”

 

Says you,” smirks Santanna.

 

Actually, I was going to give Satan credit for snakes, lawyers, Rap music, jocks and computer games,” I smile.

 

Goddess chuckles. Santanna bursts out in laughter and gestures. The porch lengthens and a round dining table with a lace table cloth appears.

 

Two bottles of champagne are in the silver chilled ice buckets standing by the table. A bucket of ice with tongs sits in the middle of the table.

 

Santanna grins at Goddess, “You might want to do your thing and slow time in The Real World. This sounds like fun.”

 

Goddess nods. I notice people in The Real World dimension, do seem to be moving slower.

 

We sit at the table. “I give you credit for snakes. A truly worthless lifeform that causes problems, spreads venom and kills numbers of people each year.”

 

Since the snake bite fatalities of a single incident don’t rank up there with bomb explosions; humanity at large doesn’t pay attention.”

 

Santanna nods. “They are worthless. I figured within a week, the slow-witted humans of old would have had them wiped out from the planet.

 

Of course, it only took one fool to look at a snake and decide it reminded him of a certain part of his anatomy.”

 

Santanna laughs. “There have always been stupid people in the world. But, for an ancient twit to look at an ugly snake and make that connection is the height of stupidity.

 

Of course, other slug-witted humans come along and the next thing you know, the nuisance creation genetic material is being plugged in as a symbol in stories and religious cults.”

 

Santanna hold up Her hand and the silver cigarette case appears. “Lawyers,” smirks Goddess. Santanna lights her cigarette and offers me one. I accept. I light the cigarette and exhale.

 

Lawyers,” I smile.

 

Granted. A lawyer does solve problems. The catch is when they solve a problem, often they are only setting things up to create more and bigger problems.

 

Humanity will never evolve to the point to where people can compromise, so, unfortunately, you will always need the occupation of a lawyer in humanity.”

 

Santanna grins, “Rap music is cuss words set to noise.”

 

I nod. “Simple. When it starts up, the promoters whine that once society rejected to rock and roll, jazz and other forms of music. No one wants to be guilty of stopping a valid art form, so suddenly you have rhythmic noise pulling down big bucks,” I decree.

 

Santanna leans across the table and looks me in the eye, “Jocks ?”

 

I lean across the table and look Santanna in the eye.

 

Pure Satanic Genius,” I grin.

 

The gladiators were true athletes, who used their brain and brawn to earn their freedom,” I point out. Santanna and Goddess nod.

 

I lean back in the chair and blow a smoke ring. “A jock is a man or woman, who never grows up. As a child, they are usually a bully or hang out with bullies.

 

They may make tons of money playing in public, but, they never really do anything for anyone other than themselves.

 

People buy into the whole silly fairy tale because it is suppose to be physical fitness.

 

Jocks are just supreme time wasters that drags along tons of people with them to waste their money and lives on primitive grunt and groan theatrics,” I explain.

 

Santanna laughs loudly and wipes at a tear in Her eye.

 

Goddess lights a cigarette. “Sam, why do you think Satan created computer games.”

 

I was yanking His chain,” I grin.

 

Computer games can be important to teach hand and eye coordination and to teach someone how to use a computer, the Internet and other tasks,” I explain.

 

A major downside of humanity is how quickly humanity can get addicted to something.

 

Whether a computer game is simple or complex, if the right person sits down in front of the screen, hours of their lives slip away wasted and unused.”

 

Everyone fights boredom. Computer games are a great way to fight it.”

 

When the entertainment becomes an obsession then it is a habit, which is an addiction, which is basically a way to waste large chunks of your life. Everything in moderation.” I smile.

 

Santanna laughs loudly. Goddess exhales smoke and grins. “I have a game for you.” Goddess winks. “If you were granted immortality and God status, what would you change ?”

 

World peace,” teases Santanna

 

I shake my head. “World Peace is a silly fantasy. No way to achieve it on an earth full of humans,” I retort.

 

Really,” inquires Santanna. “Do tell.”

 

God could wave His hand and walah, suddenly there would be Peace throughout the world.

 

Peace is boring. Everyone would deal with their happy, happy, joy,joy modes for a few hours, days, weeks, months. Humanity might even make it to a decade.”

 

Sooner or later, one person, a few people, or a group will get upset or disgruntled over something. Dissension Discontent, Disappointment, Discord. Disagreement.”

 

I shrug. “Whether it is one person, a few people or a group; once people don’t see eye to eye on an issue and they can’t reach an agreement, then, the stage is set for all that negative energy to grow and multiply.

 

World Peace is an unrealistic fantasy of humanity.”

 

Santanna lies back in the chair and points at Goddess. “If you did have immortality and God-like powers what would you do ?”

 

I smirk. “Grant my wife, immortality and God status.”

 

I inhale and exhale the smoke. “Then, I would convince Christy move to a distant planet in the universe. There we could try to enjoy our immortality.

 

Of course, once we got to the planet, we might give up the immortality to return to a mortal life. Life without end, never sounds as attractive in your senior years as it does in your youth.”

 

Santanna waves her cigarette. “Humanity. If you had to use your God powers for humanity what would you do ?

 

Honest,” I ask ?

 

Honest,” grins Santanna.

 

I look at Goddess. “I would thank God for the magnificent opportunity, but I would request not to be given The Power.”

 

Yeah, right,” smirks Santanna. “You have been offered The Power to be a God and you turn it down.”

 

I nod. “As a child, I was optimistic about humanity. I have lived in The Real World.

 

People don’t want to be “Holy.” People just want to live their lives.

 

People don’t even really care about “The Big Picture” issues of Life unless they think it will affect them.”

 

At Christmas, people go out of their way to help the homeless. Pick any day of the year before the Christmas season and people usually ignore or don’t think about the homeless.”

 

There are people, who can live their lives and still help others.”

 

You don’t know where to start,” grins Santanna ?

 

I wish I could be more optimistic about the human race,” I smile.

 

Unfortunately, in the Grand Scheme Of Gods, You, Satan have The Best Job. You get to put obstacles in front of people and challenge them to overcome them.”

 

I look at Goddess. “With all due respect, God has the worst job because He gives people the benefit of the doubt and tries to help them.

 

People usually only really drop to their knees to “worship”, during an extreme personal crisis. God always gets the short end of the stick.”

 

Santanna frowns. “You want my job ?”

 

No. It is obvious you, Satan, enjoy your job immensely.”

 

If I had The Power and could fly, teleport between dimensions, change the molecular structure of items just by thinking or wishing about them. . .obviously, all these aspects of The Power would be great to have.”

 

Imagine being a human with super hero powers. The catch is the universe expects you to use those powers to help your fellow humans.”

 

But, when you try to help one human, then, sometimes you cause problems for another human. It is a proverbial, endless loop cycle,”

 

The temptation, then, is to become just a selfish God intent on satisfying your own needs.

 

You can be human and be selfish; you don’t need God-like powers to be selfish,” I explain.

 

I shrug. “I want to live out my little,mortal Life and then go Permanent Change Of Station into The Afterlife.”

 

Goddess leans on the table and looks me in the eyes. “If you were offered The Power Of Creation And Immortality To Be A God; you would reject it ?”

 

I nod. “Yes.”

 

Where humanity is concerned. Evolution is a slow process. Earth is a classroom. People live and learn lessons. “

 

I doubt humanity will ever evolve anywhere near being “Holy” or a God-like status. It is too easy for humans to get sidetracked by trivial issues in The Real World.”

 

Santanna grins. “I have to hand it to you, human. It is rare, when I meet a human, who has actually examined their hopes and dreams.”

 

Goddess rises from the table and walks around the porch. Santanna watches.

 

Santanna looks around. “Retirement is nothing like you expected,” Santanna asks ?

 

Not in my wildest dreams,” I reply and open one of the cold bottles of rum.

 

Can I help,” offers Santanna ?

 

Probably not,” I grin.

 

Santanna snickers, “You’re still holding that Misawa Air Base thing against me; aren’t you ?”

 

I nod. “Until The Day Eternity Ends.”

 

Santanna shrugs. “Life is a slow pace in the country, huh ?”

 

I nod. “I’m not going to ask for your help, if that is what you are waiting for. I simply, don’t have any issues that require your level of expertise,” I smile.

 

Nothing,” whines Santanna ?

 

I sip the rum. “For the last year, it has been frustrated dealing with the electric company.

 

But, electric companies, internet service providers, cell phone companies, telephone companies, satellite companies – they are all alike. They give you ho-hum service and send you a huge bill each month.”

 

The electric company. Is that a request ?”

 

No. It is not a request,” I emphasize.

 

I understand the challenges the electric company faces. Weather, terrain, budget – I know all those issues play into the kind of service a company can provide. I get it.”

 

Nonetheless, every business in the world ends up with the dead weight employees, who get their game down pat. They don’t rock the boat and stay under the radar.

 

The dead weights go high enough to be comfortable, but, never high enough to be noticed. Then, they sit back and “Fat Cat” off the system. They collect a paycheck for the least amount of work possible.”

 

Santanna smiles, “You think one of the electric companies in Leyte has gone ‘Fat Cat’?”

 

I shrug. “As a human, I’m not impressed by their so-called service.”

 

I’m sure an Immortal, perhaps, a God, might have the opportunity to see behind the press releases.”

 

Santanna leans across the table and grins. “Are you sure this is not a request ?”

 

This is not a request,” I emphasize.

 

I am simply calling your attention to a matter that may have escape the attention of God and Satan.

 

I’m sure one of you or both of you might check out the matter when you have time on your schedule,” I explain.

 

Santanna sits up in the chair and sips Her liqueur, “Sam, do you think we will do any business in the coming year ?”

 

I shrug. “Anything is possible, I guess.” I reply.

 

Good enough,” grins Santanna.

 

Goddess returns and sits down at the table. “Remodeling ? Renovation ? What are you thinking,” asks Goddess ?

 

Inspiration,” I reply. “Once I am inspired I will move ahead with an idea.”

 

My wife, Christy is a pro-active person. She has an idea; she goes for it. My drawback is I stroll toward an idea. I don’t charge, head-first into it.

 

The last couple of years. I have tried to be a nice guy and be kind of laid back.”

 

In the New Year, I’m going to pursue the dream Christy and I want. I’m ready,” I proclaim.

 

Santanna holds up her hand and an open bottle of Benedictine brandy appears. A glass appears in her hand and She pours the liquid. “I like the irony.”

 

The story s that the Benedictine monks came up with the drink. The story isn’t true, but, it has been told so often that the brandy is associated with the monks,” Santanna teases and takes a swig.

 

A champagne flute appears in Goddess’ hand and She sips. “A few minutes until the New Year,”

 

A cold bottle of rum appears in my hand. I sip.

 

Goddess leans against me and whispers, “Remember, even in the tropics, there is a colds and flu season.”

 

Goddess steps forward and stands in front of me. She looks me in the eyes.

 

Your mother asks that I pass along her love,” smiles Goddess, who raises Her arms and an intense beam of light radiates from each palm into my body for about five minutes.

 

Santanna stands up and steps to the other side of the table. She uses her half-filled crystal glass to point at the TV screen. “The countdown to the New Year has started.”

 

I stand up. Goddess winks at me. “You will be okay.”

 

Everyone yells, “Happy New Year !”

 

I stand near the TV. Everyone is shouting, “Happy New Year !”

 

I embrace and kiss my wife, Christy.

 

I look up.

 

A cold shiver runs up my spine, I hear Santanna’s whispered smirk in my ear, “Go get ’em, country boy !”

 

A feeling of warmth causes me to turn and look at the porch entrance. The rest of the guests are laughing and talking and watching the TV coverage of the New Year being celebrated at the precise instant in various locations in the Philippines.

 

Santanna nods, smiles and fades into the dimension of Time and Space.

 

Goddess appears and smiles. “ Samuel, you are more ready than you realize for this year.”

 

I watch Goddess fade into the dimension of Time and Space and only a small dot of light remains.

 

Christy steps up to my side. “Look, a lightning bug.”

 

Happy New Year, honey.” I put my arm around her.

 

I watch the firefly flutter around past the banana plant.

 

The firefly flies further out into the yard into the night.

Sam

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons license.

Sam, God, Satan New Year’s Eve Analysis by Samuel E Warren Jr,

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Book One

Sam,

God,

Satan

New Year’s Eve Analysis

TICK TOCK TRAVEL TIME

 

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

I hold the hot cup of coffee.

I take a deep drag of the cigarette and stare into the dense jungle vegetation in front of me.

I step out on to the porch.

Two bright globes of light appear on the horizon and transform into two human figures.

 

The first man to step out of the light is handsome, in his mid-20s, sports the physique of a bodybuilder. His parted sandy hair and cleft chin makes him a stereotype for a Hollywood leading man of the 1940s.

 

He wears a white double breasted tuxedo jacket. A pink carnation is visible on the lapel. The tied white satin tie compliments the collar of the formal shirt. The ruby studs in gold glow in the distance.

 

His white tuxedo trousers display the stripe along the out seam. His glossy, shined white western boot footwear I am certain is a message that he shares my fondness for the footwear – pointed toe and all.

 

I am surprised to notice he is wearing a white evening waistcoat over the formal shirt. The style of his tuxedo jacket, there is no need for the vest, other than, perhaps, personal choice.

 

I watch the jangle of the gold watch chain and realize the vest has a smaller buttonhole for the end of the watch fob. The tradition of the unbuttoned bottom button is maintained.

 

His broad smile has already arrived ahead of him. He strides confidently through the jungle vegetation through the porch.

 

The second man is less enthusiastic about his visit.

 

Combed jet black hair frames a handsome face. He shares the youth of the mid-20s and the bodybuilder physique. His evening attire displays his precise convention for tradition.

 

He wears a midnight blue tuxedo. The tied black bow tie is a conservative size to compliment and not compete with the collar of the shirt. His determined walk reveals that the painted on formal shirt is being held in place by shirt garters attached to his dress socks.

 

The shirt displays traces of movement, but maintains the painted on appearance, which means he is wearing shirt garters attached to his dress socks.

 

The buttoned tuxedo jacket gives only a hint of the cumber bun. The responsive rise and fall of the tuxedo trousers suggest the man is wearing formal suspenders beneath his coat.

 

His precise attention to detail makes the tuxedo seem painted on. The black onyx in silver studs of the formal shirt matches the cuff links. The gold wristwatch is worn to impress.

 

The white satin handkerchief peaked in the breast pocket is no surprise. The single rosebud boutonniere swaddled in baby’s breath is pinned on the lapel, which has no buttonhole. The boutonniere is strategically placed to attract the eyes of the ladies.

 

The highly polished black western boots means he was told to wear boots. His dubious look ripples toward the porch.

 

I put out my hand to the first man. “Welcome, God.”

 

Hey, Sam. Happy New Year’s Eve.”

 

Thank you, sir.”

 

I put out my hand to the second man, who gestures it away with his formal walking stick. He takes a step and his boot slides into the mud.

 

Welcome, Satan,” I reply.

 

He scowls at me and steps up on the porch. “This was not my idea. God said I should come with Him. You know me, I’m not fond of mortals.”

 

Any friend of God’s is a friend of mine,” I smile.

 

I didn’t say I was a friend of God. He just told me I should come with Him,” elaborates Satan.

 

I’m honored and surprised you gentlemen would show up here for New Year’s Eve.”

 

I will be leaving later, I’m sure,” sneers Satan.

 

God laughs. “You will have to forgive Satan His rude manners. The holidays always gets Him down.”

 

Coffee, soda, water, can I get you something to drink,” I ask ?

 

We’re fine,” smiles God. He looks around at the decorations on the porch. Satan hunkers down, grumbles and wipes the mud off his boot.

 

God sits on the porch railing and looks at me. “This isn’t what you signed up for is it, Samuel ?”

 

No, sir,” I answer, in my yellow short sleeve barong and denim jeans. “I had a Beverly Hills mansion on the Leyte beach in mind. Of course, with the fickleness of nature, I would probably only live there about a week before the ocean would swop in and wash it out to sea.” I smile. “You have taught me Life is always changing.”

 

Satan looks up and glances around. “One place is as good as another.”

 

Satan looks at God, “The evening is young and I’m ready to party.”

 

Cool your jets,” orders God. “You don’t have a hot date. You don’t even have a plan for the evening. Your biggest decision all day was in the selection of your wardrobe. Can’t you just be among mortals without always having an agenda ?”

 

I don’t know,” replies Satan. “I really have never tried. You know me, I’m the King Of Soap Operas.”

 

‘Asawa, taste this,” implores Christy, who holds up the steaming table spoon. “Umm. Good.”

 

Does it need salt, she asks ?

 

No, honey. The shrimp fried rice tastes fine.” I smile.

 

You, okay. I noticed you have been standing there awhile just staring out into the jungle,” she asks ?

 

I’m fine. New Year is coming. I’m thinking. Always thinking about new story ideas. It is a writer thing.” I smile. Christy heads back into the kitchen.

 

Obviously, Christy does not see God and Satan.

 

Writers and storytellers understand the multiverse concept that allows you to stand on your porch in The Real World and converse with entities in another dimension.

 

If you’re doing “The Taste Tester” routine,” Satan snickers, “forget ‘The Boys Night Out’ because Momma ain’t going to give you a Kitchen Pass.”

 

God smiles and gestures. My genetic golem stares back at me holding a hot cup of coffee and a burning cigarette. “Understudy time,” chuckles God. “He will do the things you do and say the things you say because he is a shade version of you designed to operate on The Real World level.”

 

God grins at me. “Congratulations. You’ve just been upgraded. You are now at a different vibrational frequency. You can see them, but they can’t see you.”

 

Am I in trouble,” I ask ?

 

God laughs, “Of course not, Satan and I know that if there is any place on earth that we can just chill out and shoot the breeze, chew the fat and just talk, it is where you live.”

 

I visit some people and they freak out. Satan visits people and they usually really freak out. We visit you and you are respectful and courteous. You don’t have the traditional preconceived notions of God and Satan. You give us the benefit of the doubt.”

 

You are a strange mortal,” quips Satan.

 

God nods at me. “Sam you have never learned the meaning of the term, “hold back.” If a question comes to mind, then, you ask it. If a comment comes to mind, then, you say it. You have the same approach with mortals and deities; except with us entities you add the courtesy titles into your comments and responses.”

 

Satan frowns and throws up his arm. Walls rise. A shiny hardwood floor appears under my feet. Two black plush sofas are arranged in a semi circle around a coffee table. A wall-sized big screen TV is on the wall at the end of the room. A gaudy, glassy, chrome, silver industrial theme fills the room. An outer wall becomes vertical sheets of glass.

 

Satan steps to the end of the room and a bar rises up around him. God looks at Satan.

 

What,” smirks Satan ? He grins and sits a glass pitcher on the counter. “Want a martini ?” He looks at the labels of the gin and vermouth bottles that appear.

 

Sam, I know you want a martini. I make them really dry,” He smiles.

I’ll wait,” I reply.

 

Satan shrugs. “Suit yourself. You guys are wasting a good new year’s eve.”

 

God sits on a sofa. He reaches inside his dinner jacket and takes out a pack of cigarettes. He lights one.

 

I light a cigarette.

 

I’m curious, Sam,” He smiles.

 

Sir ?”

 

The previous year have you thought about it,” He asks ?

 

I nod. “Everyday.”

 

Talk to me,” He offers. “Christy and I came back to the Philippines to be with her family. Her mom wanted her to keep the family together. My mom always told me family was everything.”

 

And,” God asks ?

 

Families change,” I shrug. “Times change. Over time, I guess the whole concept of family has changed. Humanity supposedly is in the process of evolving. I don’t mean to be a pessimist; but, I’m not sure humanity is evolving. I;m beginning to think, humanity is like a gerbil on an exercise wheel. We run in place and tell ourselves we are moving up the rungs of the ladder.”

 

Satan places his bulbous glass pitcher of martinis on the silver antique serving tray. The filled ice bucket, tall bottle of green olives, and a cocktail toothpick container. He places the tall, inverted pyramid martini glass on the tray. Then the carries the tray to the coffee table.

 

He pours a mixed martini into the glass. He uses the silver ice bucket tongs to plop two ice cubes into the liquid. He thrusts a cocktail toothpick into two olives and drops them in the martini. He raises the glass and smirks. “I love my martinis shaken. . .like my humans.”

 

Satan gets comfortable on the end of the sofa across from me. He sips His martini. “Mortal, I have a question for you.”

 

Sir ?”

 

I have watched you through the years. When God enters someone’s presence they usually tremble, go all weak at the knees, They never look Him in the face, Often, they drop down with their face in the dirt and their butts sticking up in the air, They start all their shrieking, groaning, crying, moaning, pleading, begging and theatrics. I enter the presence of humans and it is basically the same reaction plus I sense centuries of fear pouring from the pores of their bodies. “

 

God smiles at me, while Satan pauses in his narrative to sip His martini.

 

God enters your presence. I enter your presence. You do not act like the majority of the mortals. You look us in the eye. You offer us your hand. And, you welcome us. Why is that ?”

 

Respect, sir. I respect God. I respect You, Satan.”

 

Satan frowns. “Why don’t you tremble in Fear ?”

 

I smile. “With all due respect, sir, Daddy is a Texan. Momma is a Hillbilly. I was taught to respect people, not to fear them.”

 

God burst out in laughter. Satan scowls at me.

 

With all due respect, sir, the old prophets got it wrong. They preached “The Fear Of God.” You do not Love someone you Fear. Why would you want to Love someone you Fear ? Love and Respect should always be one and the same If you Respect, understand and admire someone, then, you should be capable of giving Love to that person or entity. If you have to Fear a person or entity then the person is not worth knowing and the entity is not worth worship.”

 

Satan shifts on the sofa and leans forward to look me in the eye.

 

You do not fear, me ?”

 

As a child, sir, I was taught to Fear You. The Global Mindset is You Fear Satan. As an older adult, I am Leery of you. You have your own agenda. I doubt it is in my best interest. However, while the World credits You with complete Evil, I realize an important scientific principle that if You were the complete entity of negative energy that You are suppose to be, then, You could not exist because that much negative energy would destroy itself. Your ultimate success would be your oblivion.”

God laughs loudly. “For the scientifically-challenged, Satan, Sam, is saying if your bark was really as bad as your bite, your own rabies would of killed you centuries ago.”

 

Satan whirls around and his face flashes anger to God. “I get it !”

 

He scowls back at me, “You should Fear me, mortal. A mere thought and your molecules are in the wind. You cease to exist”

 

I nod. “With respect, sir. You do not have to threaten me to destroy me. A mere thought and I am no more. If you have decided to destroy me, then, no amount of pleading, begging, protestations, oaths, prayers, whining, crying, groping, lying on the ground or crawling around on the ground will save me. Let us forget the Soap Opera theatrics and cut to the chase.”

 

Satan frowns, sips his martini. He eats his olives and sips His martini once more. He sits the glass on the coffee table. He unbuttons His tuxedo jacket, and leans back on the sofa with a smirk.

 

Sam, you are one arrogant human. The only reason I can appreciate, and even tolerate such mortal arrogance, is because it has been eons since I met a human, who did not cringe in fear the instant that I materialized in their presence.”

 

Satan removes His slender silver cigarette case from inside His jacket pocket. He takes a cigarette and offers me one. I take a cigarette. He takes the lighter from his pants pocket and lights His cigarette. He hands me the lighter. I light my cigarette and hand Him back His lighter that He places by His cigarette case.

 

He points His lit cigarette at me. “This is what I mean. A simple gesture. I offer you a cigarette and you accept. You have any idea through the ages, how many times I have offered a human a cigarette and they have turned me down ? The Fear of humans, their paranoia, their insecurity that is what enslaves people. They are prisoners of their own mind.

 

Granted, I always have my own agenda. Nonetheless, even Satan is capable of protocol, civility and manners. Anyone who is aware of my reputation realizes I don’t need a cigarette lighter to burst someone into flames. Nor, do I need Freon or Liquid Nitrogen to chill them into oblivion.” Satan smiles.

 

Satan,” God interrupts. “You were the One who said He didn’t want to talk religion, spirituality or business tonight.”

True,” Satan remarks. “I seldom find a ‘thinking mortal” to talk to. Most humans just regurgitate what has been preached at them since Day One their Lives began. This human actually tries to form thoughts to think for himself. It is rare to find a human that tries to use the brain God gives a human.”

 

I shrug. “I am, who I am, sir.”

 

God rises and crushes out his cigarette in the huge glass astray on the coffee table. In an instant, the ashes disappears and the glass sparkles once more. “You, gentlemen, talk.”

 

God steps back and unbuttons His white tuxedo. “Since Satan tends to like ritzy penthouses, I imagine this establishment,is at the very least, below us a five star hotel, which means there is a complete catering staff. Translation. I’m going to find a menu and call, Room Service. Can I order anyone else anything ?”

 

Satan turns and points at the back wall to the bar. “There is a menu on the counter.”

 

Satan pours himself another martini and offers me one. “No, thank you. I would appreciate some coffee, when it is convenient”

 

A silver serving tray of a hot pot of coffee, a creamer and a sugar bowl appear. Six plain white china coffee cups appear on their saucers. I pour a fresh cup of hot coffee. Satan settles back on the sofa with His fresh martini. He sips.

 

I take it, you do not believe the traditional human, global views of Satan.”

 

No, sir. The ideas are silly.” Satan laughs. “Please, explain. I am anxious to hear this,” He leans forward and lights a cigarette.

 

I light a cigarette. “First, sir. The old prophets meant well, but they tried to stack the deck in God’s favor. You are suppose to be God’s arch enemy. The old prophets claim that you are a fallen archangel. That can not be. An archangel, even the senior most ranking archangel of Heaven, would never have The Power to triumph over God. They stacked the deck in God’s favor.

 

Satan smirks. “You don’t think I could defeat God ?”

 

I smile. “What I believe is irrelevant. In order for You to be the Supreme Threat to God, You would have to be an entity, who shares the ability to acquire and use The Power Of The Universe. I have no doubt that You, sir, are more than capable.”

 

Then, why haven’t I,” teases Satan ?

 

Why would You ?” Satan smiles and leans forward to look me in the eye. “What would you have to gain ? Triumph. Victory. You win. Then, the work of rebuilding begins. You would have to institute some type of government and create a framework for the various segments of humanity. With all due respect, sir, Your area of expertise is negative energy; not positive energy. Even in Chaos there needs to be a level of Order or the anarchy and destruction becomes an endless loop of creation and destruction.”

 

Satan smiles widely and sips His martini. He leans back against the sofa and stretches out his arms. “You have it all figured out,” He asks ?

 

I shrug. “I have figured out what I needed to understand for my Life to make sense. An Eternal War is not only insane, but, silly because nothing would ever be achieved. The violence, pain and suffering would be never-ending. A Constant State Of War is Complete And Total Chaos because the process of creation and destruction is never-ending. It is a cycle with no beginning and no end. War. All War has to end, otherwise, War has no meaning and Peace has no meaning.”

 

Satan grins broadly. He stands up and removes His tuxedo jacket. He lies it on the back of the sofa and sits back down. He crouches over the coffee table. I sip my coffee.

 

I am intrigued, mortal. You reject that I am a senior-ranking archangel. You reject that I am the Ultimate Military Commander Of All The Evil Forces In The Universe. I sense you respect, but, don’t buy into the whole “Aristocratic” view, so you won’t be impressed by my titles of “Prince Of Darkness” and “Lord Of The Underworld.” Tell me, then, what or who do you think I am ?”

 

For the record, sir, you want me to express my ‘honest opinion’ and you will hear it out before you react ?”

 

Satan smirks. “Okay. I’ll let you have your say before I get upset and turn you to ash on the sofa.”

 

What or Who do you think I am ?”

 

I sip my coffee and sit the cup on the saucer.

With all due respect, sir, I believe, You are The Dark Side Of God.”

 

Satan grins and leans back on the sofa. “How did you arrive at that conclusion ?”

 

I lean across the coffee table. “The Ancient Art Of Common Sense, sir. Humanity states One God is the Ultimate Force Of Time, Space And Creation In The Universe. Humanity ignores the Duality Factor. One of Anything Can Always Be Divided Into Two. A Half Is Always A Part Of A Whole. Therefore, for God to be One, He also has to have a Duality within. To be Holy, all of the positive energy of God would have had to encounter all of the negative energy within God – His Dark Side.”

 

Satan grins. “And, walah ? God creates Satan.”

 

I smile. “I am a writer, sir. I would bring the story on down.”

 

Satan leans forward and smiles. “Then, by all means, please, do.”

 

God The Entity would have realized that He would have to ‘cast out” the negative energy. Thus, at the instant of Creation, God became positive and Satan became negative.”

 

And, The Eternal War Of Good And Evil Rages For All Eternity,” trumps Satan raising his glass and finishing off his martini. He sits the glass on the table.

 

You ain’t buying the old Good versus Evil routine; are you,” asks Satan ?

 

With respect, sir. No. You and God are Victims Of Your Own Success. Sodom and Gomorrah are prime examples. As the Supreme Positive Intellectual Energy Of The Universe there was no need for God to destroy the two cities. A gesture and the complete infrastructure of the cities would of changed. The government, the society everything within the walls would of changed and God could of simply Rained Down Thornless Roses on the population. People would have been dancing and singing in the streets.”

 

Freewill,” retorts Satan !

 

With respect, sir. Freewill is a cop-out. The lamest excuse of humanity. Freewill is mankind’s excuse to put God and Satan on the bench for all of humanity. Freewill is mankind’s excuse to justify stupid decisions and allow people to get away without accepting responsibility.

Freewill is a crock. Freewill is still a choice. A choice always comes with responsibility. Freewill is cowardice impersonating courage.

 

Freedom means a person makes a choice and realizes they have to accept the responsibility that comes with the choice.

 

Freewill is for fools. The world is full of fools.

 

God had the Freedom Of Choice to decide how to deal with Sodom and Gomorrah Had He choose to change all the minds of all the citizens into a positive frame of mind, He would of maintained “The Holy Perfection Concept.”

 

Satan laughs. “You believe because God went all Good Ole’ Boy on Sodom and Gomorrah, He destroyed His credibility and integrity ?”

 

No, sir. When God went “postal”, He proved that even God understands Revenge, Payback, Vengeance, and “Setting The Record Straight.” Plus, He gave the Dumb Dumb Doomsday Prophets Of Planet Earth Their Best Doom And Gloom Story. Every pessimistic prophet who comes along simply takes the Sodom and Gomorrah story to the extreme for the latest version of Armageddon, Apocalypse, The Four Horsemen, The Rapture, and any other end of the world tale they wish to tell.”

 

The glitch God made was that His decision to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah meant that He was capable of violence, which is almost always considered a negative act.

 

How could A Pure, Supreme, Perfect, Holy God Of The Universe carry out a negative act ?

 

Satan laughs, “You are on a roll, professor. Please, answer your own question.”

 

He could not, sir. Based on the strictest definitions of the words involved, there is no loophole that would apply. There can be only one explanation. For all the supreme positive perfection, at least, an iota of negative energy had to remain for God to be able to understand and relate to His negative side.

 

Satan laughs. He unbuttons his shirt collar and pours a fresh martini. He plops the ice and the olives in the glass. He grabs up the glass and crouches over the coffee table to look me in the eyes.

 

Hallelujah ! Preacher ! Bring it on home,” teases Satan. “Of course, in the New Testament, God has become more laid back. Your explanation will have to take that into account, reverend.”

 

I pick up my coffee cup and finish it and sit the empty cup on the saucer. I smile and sit back on the sofa. “I am a mere mortal.”

 

Satan laughs and shakes his head. “I’m not letting you off the hook that easy. I want to hear the rest of this story.”

 

I point at Satan’s cigarette case and he offers me one. With a lit cigarette, I exhale the smoke and smile.

 

If God has an iota of negative energy, sir.”

 

Satan leans across the coffee table. “Have I ever mentioned I do not appreciate writers who keep their readers in suspense ?”

 

No, sir.” I smile. “If God has an iota of negative energy, then, sir, You must have an iota of positive energy.”

 

Satan spills his drink on the table. He sits down the glass and rises. He walks behind the sofa. He frowns. He thrusts a finger into His chest.

 

Me ! The Supreme King Of Negativity ! Lord Of The Underworld ! The Oldest Evil The World Has Ever Known ! I ! You see that I have. . .an iota. . .of positive energy flowing through my Immortal Veins !

 

Satan turns, thrusts out His arm, opens His hand and a wide corridor of flame sprays forward. The floor length drapes over the monolithic vertical windows are incinerated in an instant. Then, a blast of cold air from his palm freezes and whisk away the ashes. He smirks. “I really did like those drapes.”

 

He puts His hands on His hips and scowls at me. “I am The Bad Guy !”

 

Yes, sir. I did not mean to offend or infer anything else,” I explain.

 

Satan sits back down and sips His martini. He puts the olives between His teeth and gnashes down.

 

In Your world view, God is the positive energy. I am the negative energy. Since you reject the traditional view of your fellow humans in my role. What is the role You cast for Me ?”

You are, sir, The Businessman. You realize humans don’t get out of bed, in the morning, without a reason. You gave them a reason; they work or they starve to death. No one likes the feeling of hunger.

 

Satan laughs. “You see me as a businessman.”

 

The Businessman, sir. The world is and always has been full of insane evil. Horrific acts that are executed without any logic or rationale. You can attribute the insane evil to demons, denizens of Hell or just really sick humans, who have their own warped worldview.

 

Evil or Negative Acts With A Universal Purpose, I attribute to You, sir. If you were simply interested in violence, then, Chaos would be never-ending. Your Evil always serves a purpose. You are not the type of impulsive entity that waste time, energy and effort to satisfy a short-term gratification.”

 

Satan rises and brushes the lint of His tuxedo pants. He looks at me and smiles.

 

Samuel. You are dangerous. You think for yourself. You don’t ‘conform to the norm’ unless you have a reason. Right or wrong, you choose to use the brain God gave you.”

 

God strolls back into the penthouse, wearing a white buttoned single breasted tuxedo with his matching western boots. Satan snickers. “You ran into your wife, I can tell by the wardrobe change. She didn’t like what you was wearing.”

 

God smirks and steps aside. A large rectangular table appears. The pristine silver serving trays in the center contains a cornucopia of various and delicious delicacies. “Supper time,” smiles God, seating Himself at the head of the table. Satan sits to God’s right. I sit on God’s left.

 

It all looks delicious,” I remark. “But, Christy is cooking supper.”

 

God nods. “Understood, Sam. You will have an appetite in that dimension. Here, you need to eat to keep up your strength. Let’s bypass the science lesson and go straight to the aesthetics and philosophy. Think of the food on this table as ‘Food For Thought’ and ‘Food For The Imagination” and “Food For The Soul.”

 

Angelic waiters and waitresses, in their uniforms appear, and begin to place plates of food, in front of us. “Bon Ape-tit,” chimes God.

 

Satan smiles. “God, your mortal, Samuel, here, has some real interesting ideas about religion, humanity and your lifeforms on planet earth.”

 

God nods. “I am completely aware of Sam’s ideas.”

 

God smiles at me and looks at Satan. “You know as well as I anytime we are on earth, we are usually expected to play by the old ideas, rules, concepts and mythologies. When I get bored, I swing by Sam’s dorm room, barracks room or house.”

 

Satan smirks. “All these years and you haven’t been able to change His Freewill ?”

 

God grins at Satan. “He is a human, who has the Freedom Of Choice.”

 

God dabs the napkin at the corner of His mouth. “Satan, why would you complain ? He gave you a Portfolio Personality. He attributes Method To Your Madness. Most people just view you as a global infection of insanity that sweeps humanity.”

 

Satan nods. “My style usually doesn’t go unnoticed and therefore unappreciated.”

 

Satan sit back in the chair. “He is humanizing us.”

 

Don’t be silly,” God remarks. “Sam explains us in human form, but, we retain all our powers.”

 

God looks at me. “Forgive, my manners, Sam. I am putting words in your mouth.”

 

It is fine, sir. What you said is true. Humanity fears what it can not or will not try to understand. When God or Satan is thought of as a universal mist in an unreachable dimension, then, people, when they do worship, only worship out of fear and not respect.”

 

Ah,” smirks Satan. “You wish to bring back The Old Pagan Gods And Goddesses ?”

 

I finish chewing my bite of food and smile up at Satan. “Not without, a shave, a haircut, and a complete entourage of human professionals to assist them in everything from fashion to child-rearing.”

 

Satan frowns. “Why do you find the Old Gods and Goddesses so interesting ?”

 

I dab the napkin to my lips. “They were engaged. They were on the ground, They were in country. They worked with their citizens. They inspired their citizens. They gave their citizens faith, hope, inspiration, purpose, ambition, drive and the initiative to work for better lives in The Real World and beyond.”

 

Satan shrugs. “Modern religion does the same.”

 

God laughs and smiles at Satan. “You have opened a can of worms.”

 

With all due respect, sir, No. The One God deity is a couch potato watching the wide screen TV of the universe. The Soap Opera lives of humans are in a distant dimension. Humanity is a never-ending Reality TV broadcast that God allows because if He ever clicks off the remote.”

 

Well,” asks Satan ? I dab the napkin to my mouth.

 

God would simply have to begin The Creation Process Of Earth or an Earth-like planet all over again. You both like to watch the humans. Humans love to live. Earth allows the humans the opportunity to try and relate to and identify with The Creator.”

 

God scoots back his chair and rises from the table. He reaches inside His tuxedo jacket and takes out a cigar. He smiles at Satan and uses the cigar cutter to nip off the end.

 

Relax. Your wife went with my wife. They are doing the New Year’s Eve party circuit,” smiles God.

 

Satan frowns as God lights his cigar and puts the lighter back in His pocket. God blows at the embers in the cigar. “Satan, You keep frowning like that and you will have all kinds of wrinkles on your horns.”

 

I rise from the table and God offers me a cigar that I accept and light. We retire back to the living room.

 

Satan approaches with a cigar and snaps his fingers to light it. “Centuries Of Immortality and The Lord Of Darkness is still doing kid’s party tricks.”

 

Satan smirks. “If you got it; flaunt it.”

God blows a smoke ring. “Incidentally, Lilith said to remind you to behave.”

 

Right,” sneers Satan. “Like she is going to go out tonight and be so responsible. “ Satan puffs on his cigar and looks at the images passing on the TV.

 

He gestures with His cigar. “If we are going to do The Real World New Year’s Eve Party, we probably should get back to that dimension.

 

No rush,” smiles God. “There is plenty of time. We have put the old year to bed.”

 

God grins, “Now, let’s move forward with our plans to welcome in the New Year.”

 

Could we, maybe, speed it up to have the celebration sometime this century,” smirks Satan ?

 

Relax, Satan,” God remarks. A gold pocket watch appears in his hand. He opens it and shows us the hands point to nine pm.

 

I have this Time thing down to a fine art and science,” smiles God.

 

Satan looks at me.

 

If God said there is plenty of time; who am I to question God,” I smile.

TICK TOCK TRAVEL TIME THUMBNAIL

Sam

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons license.

Christmas Cash,Costs,Challenges of The Ozarks 1960s

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Christmas Cash,Costs, Challenges

of

The

Ozarks’

1960s

THE OZARKS OLD HOUSE_Photo by Samuel E Warren Jr_resized

The Old House

Of The Ozarks

This small house beside Missouri State Highway 176 in Stone County, Missouri in The Ozarks can go unnoticed by passing motorists. This Old House served as The DeLong Family Home in the 1960s. Birthday parties, Fourth of July, Halloween Trick or Treat events,Thanksgiving Supper and Christmas Day Dinner celebrations were held in the three – room house, which had a Laundry Room built on in the 1970s. There was no inside plumbing. Uncle Joe built an Outhouse down on the hillside. While the house did not have the social comforts of some 20th Century homes in The Ozarks; it always felt like “Home” to DeLong family members, who returned to Stone County and the Missouri Ozarks anytime of the year. Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

 

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

 

christmas-tree-logo-photo-two-thumbnail_thumb[1]Home in my childhood was “The Ozarks.”

 

The Ozarks is one of the places in the world, where myth and reality live side by side.

 

You live your life in The Real World and sometimes it seems like you look up and see a wild,white-haired Mark Twain smiling down at you with his pen in hand.

 

The heavy snows of winter fall. The scene looks like a Currier and Ives lithograph on a china plate and then you feel the “bone chilling cold” enter your body. You see your breath. You trudge out of the knee-high snow into the warmth of your home.

 

You “warm” by the large, rectangular, dark brown “Warm Morning” gas stove and realize winter in The Ozarks means Christmas is usually just days away.

 

You get a hot cup of coffee and wonder why people think The Ozarks is “permanently stuck in an 1800s Time Warp.”

 

MV5BMTUzNzE1MjY0MV5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMDE3MjU1MQ@@._V1._SX359_SY500_If you ever watched an episode of “The Beverly Hillbillies” you may believe the fictional characters represent “Life In The Ozarks.”

 

You would be wrong.

 

I grew up in the Ozarks and I never ate possum.

 

I have ate squirrel.

 

Uncle Hobert DeLong was a “dead on shot” with a rifle. Every time he went into the woods, he came back with a “mess of squirrels” and sometimes “a mess of rabbits.”

 

Of course, no one remembers Jed, granny and the rest of the Clampett were supposed to have been from Bugtussel, Tennessee and the characters get associated with The Missouri and Arkansas Ozarks.

 

Cartoonist Al Capp made a large fortune drawing the comic strip of Lil’ Abner for 43th years that reached 60 million readers in more than 900 American newspapers.

 

Capp’s newspaper comic strip was one of my mother’s favorites. Capp put the characters in Dogpatch, Kentucky, but as a kid everyone though if you were from The Missouri and Arkansas Ozarks, then, you must be like Lil’ Abner.

 

I never went to a Sadie Hawkin’s Day dance.

 

Dancing wasn’t allowed at Galena High School in the 1960s. It was an issue that came up with every senior class wanting a “Prom.” The Baptist and Pentecostal churches of the 1960s in Stone County were vocal in their objections and they kept the prom dance out of school.

 

I graduated in 1973 in a “Graduation Exercises” ceremony, but there was “No Prom” because the churches still didn’t allow dancing in school.

 

 

 

The Ozarks Hillbilly Stereotype

 

No matter how incorrect the “hillbilly” stereotype is about The Ozarks. Americans and foreigners seem to cling to the dumb hayseed and lazy cartoon and television stereotypes of “The Ozarks Hillbilly.”

 

The irony is that the Ozarks is pretty close to the center of the United States and it has always seemed like an “undiscovered country” to foreigners and other Americans.

 

My geographical calculations of “The Ozarks” begins from the southern city limits sign of Jefferson City to the southern city limits sign of Little Rock, Arkansas, which is what I always considered to be, “The Ozarks.”

 

Stone County, Missouri is in the southwest section of the state and borders Arkansas, which means, “reckon I grew up one of them thar’ Ozarks’ country boys.”

 

Missourians in the Ozarks joke, “If you don’t like the weather just wait 15 minutes and it will change.” There is truth to that joke. The weather doesn’t always change every 15 minutes, but in a 24-hour day, the weather can change several times in a day.

 

Pen To Paper

 

To put pen to paper and write a story about Christmas in The Ozarks, I will have to set the stage.

 

There are many famous Missourians from United States Army Generals of the Armies John Joseph “Blackjack” Pershing to “The Most Trusted Man In America” Walter Cronkite, but, usually the celebrities are known as Missourians and not necessarily, “Ozarkers.”

 

Neosho, Missouri’s Thomas Hart Benton put his brush strokes on canvas to paint pictures; I will try to paint a word picture of life in The Ozarks in the 1960s.

 

Tom Sawyer Childhood

 

Life in “The Ozarks” in Stone County, Missouri in the 1960s was like “Tom Sawyer on a tractor and in a pickup truck.” Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Midwest buckboards and stagecoaches were replaced by 18-wheelers, Greyhound and Continental Trailways buses.

 

Rose O’Neill’s Kewpie dolls could be still found in toy stores in the Ozarks. Overall, Life in southern Missouri had not changed all that much since the days of Mark Twain, Laura Ingalls Wilder and Rose O’Neill.

 

The Tomato Factories” of Reeds Spring, Abesville, and Galena in the 1930s had been replaced with “The Garment Factory” in Reeds Spring and Crane and Crane had a “Casket Factory.”

 

Fasco in Springfield, Missouri employed several people from Stone County. In 1960, Silver Dollar City was just beginning operations. Branson, Missouri in 1960 was “no threat” to country music in Nashville, but, Nashville musicians would begin to head for Branson, during the 1960s. In the area of economics, “times were tough”, in Stone County and southwest Missouri in 1960.

 

Blood Out Of A Turnip

 

Every nation has an economy. Money flows around in the metropolitan and urban areas, but in rural areas the ocean of money flows into a narrow stream that sometimes becomes a dry creek bed. In Stone County, it seemed even the rocks in the creek bed were usually “bone dry.”

 

After The Great Depression and World War II, the United States economy was strengthening. In the rural areas of the Ozarks, being “poor” is still a way of life.

 

In the early 1960s, the local power companies were working hard to provide, stable and reliable electricity.

 

Stone County, Missouri had a reputation of being one of the poorest counties in The Show Me State.

 

Traditionally in Missouri, statistics reveal “Mining” is the major source of manual labor income for the state. Farming comes in second. There were caves in Stone County, but no working mines.

 

Farming is hard work. Even with good weather and the money to buy seeds, livestock and equipment, farming is a full-time job to make a living.

 

Gardening maybe a hobby; Farming is a job.

 

Grandma DeLong like to sum up an economic situation as, “I couldn’t afford to make a down payment on an old settin’ hen with all her eggs rotten.” The purpose of this country statement was to point out that someone was “financially broke.” It was a common financial phrase that you heard in The Ozarks in the 1960s.

 

By 1960s, some farmers in Stone County had had it with “life on the farm.” Some people sold their farms and moved to other states. Some people stayed on their farms, but tried to get a “public job” at Silver Dollar City.

 

When it came to money in Stone County, Missouri and The Ozarks in the 1960s “people minded their Ps and Qs” and sometimes the lack of money was described as “Trying to get blood out of a turnip.”

 

Ozarks Hills And Hollers

 

Corn and tomatoes were the big income producing crops in Stone County, Missouri in my childhood in the 1960s. There were always stories of some of the corn being used to produce “moonshine” and “white lightning.”

 

In the early 1980s, I was “home on leave” from the military and a family friend unscrewed the lid on a Mason jar and asked me if I wanted some of the clear liquid.

 

I thanked him, but decided not to drink the “white lightning.”

 

The geography of Stone County had some cliffs and bluffs in the landscape of the hills and hollers. When the soil was too rough, rocky or poor to raise any other crop, usually the farmer would sew cane and other pasture grasses.

 

Fertilize was not all that expensive, but, the amount needed to nourish the soil and get crops to grow was sometimes too big a chunk of money out of a farmer’s budget.

 

Uncle Richard had one field beside State Highway 176, that the family called, “The Cane Field” because it was too rocky and the soil too poor for any other crop. The cane was used to feed to the cattle in the winter time,

 

Spring and summer usually the crops grew well and there was plenty of pasture to feed the livestock. Farmers didn’t get rich, but they made “the ends meet.”

 

Deep Freeze

 

Winter in southwest Missouri in the 1960s was always Armageddon. Fields were buried under blankets of deep snow. The important contribution of the deep snow and cold temperatures is the weather would kill off chiggers, ticks and snakes as long as farmers burned the brush in their fields and hollers in the early falls.

 

Burning the tree leaves in the hollers that fell kept deep leave beds from filling up the hollers. In the winter time, chigger, ticks and snakes would burrow into the deep leaves to try and wait out the winter until spring.

 

Southwest Missouri’s picture postcard “snows” were efficient in freezing farm ponds, which stayed frozen unless you broke the ice with an ax for the cattle to get a drink.

 

The weight of a Black Angus, Polled Hereford, Jersey or Holstein cow would sometimes shatter the ice and a cow could drown trying to get a drink of water in the winter.

 

Later in the 1960s, someone invented a device to stick in farm ponds in the winter to keep the water from freezing.

 

The deep freeze of the Ozarks in winter would freeze trees. The weight of ice on the limbs would cause the limbs to fall and take down electric lines. If you were lucky, you would be without electricity for a day.

 

On average people usually went without electricity for two to three days usually two to three times,during winter from October through April. The worst case scenario meant you would go without electricity for one to two weeks during the winter.

 

A Country Mile

 

The strength of my childhood came from my family in the Ozarks. Momma, Grandma DeLong, Uncle Richard, Uncle Hobert, Aunt Mary, and Cousin Donna were my family in the Ozarks.

 

In Houston, Texas, I could step out in my front yard. Donna and Debbie Brinkley from the house next door only had to walk out their gate and a few feet to walk into my yard for us to play.

 

In the Ozarks, neighbors always seemed to live a country mile from your front door.

 

Thelma Thomas was my closet neighbor in 1960 and she lived about a tenth of a mile from my front door on top of a hill. Her kids were grown with families of their own.

 

The Galena School District usually included Jenkins and Wheelerville, Missouri, which was only a few miles from Crane, Missouri. And, Crane, Missouri was 10 miles from Galena.The district would extend south to almost Reeds Spring, which was about 15 miles from Galena.

 

Many of my classmates would have to do chores before catching the school bus in the morning. The bus ride for some of the kids meant they were on the school bus for two hours before they arrived at Galena Elementary or Galena High School. After school, they would spend two hours on the bus once it left the school.

 

You would see classmates in school, but the distances and the rural road conditions to their parents’ farms meant that “visits” and social interaction was almost impossible, except for possibly on the weekend.

 

Crane, Missouri was only 10 miles from Galena and we usually only went grocery shopping in Crane on Saturdays.

 

 

 

Life On Planet Earth Before Electronics”

 

Children of the 21st Century will think I grew up in The Dark Ages because there was no Internet, no facebook, no twitter, no computers, no X box, no play station and no cell phones.

 

Yes, there was “Life On Planet Earth Before Electronics.”

 

Fire had been discovered. My father always carried his Zippo cigarette lighter.

 

We didn’t have to use stone tablets and chisels because there was an archaic device called, a typewriter that used ribbons, bond paper and carbon paper that helped people put words on paper for future generations.

 

Telephones Come To Stone County

 

Telephones were being installed in homes, near Galena and Abesville, Missouri.

 

In order to have a telephone in your home if you lived near State Highway 176, you had to be willing to be on “a party line”, which meant when your phone rang, your neighbors telephone gave off a jangle sound,

 

There was one public telephone booth in Galena, Missouri. The phone booth was on the sidewalk by the US Post Office, next to Floyd’s Barber shop, which was next to Rose’s beauty shop, which was next to the Hillbilly Cafe and sat across the street from the courthouse. In 2011, that area is now a parking lot for The Stone County Judicial Center.

 

The reason why the telephone was so important in 1960 was it allowed Momma to call Daddy in Texas and he could call her from Texas. Grandma and Uncle Richard never had a telephone. DeLong and Warren family members, who lived in other states could call us and we could call them.

 

In the 21st Century, when it seems children own a cell phone as soon as they learn to speak; it may be hard to imagine the importance of a telephone in your home, but, imagine for a moment that you lived in the snow and ice of the South Pole and you were trying to make a phone call to your grandparents in the United States.

 

If your grandparents lived in a city like Houston, Atlanta, Los Angeles or New York City, it would be easy for them to place a call. But, if you lived in a remote location at the South Pole, there might not be phone lines or cell phone towers, so you might not get the phone call.

Old Missouri Spring Photo by Junior Warren1

Old Missouri Spring

This old spring is on Warren Land in Stone County, Missouri. The Ozarks area of the United States has always been difficult for “people to live off the land” because the soil is poor and rocky. If you need rain; you will get a drought. If you need sunshine;you will get a flood. Nature seems to enjoy working against farmers. Wildlife and insect pest can have a negative effect on crops. The Old Traditional Ozarks Hillbilly concept portrays citizens as dumb and lazy. The truth is an Ozarks Hillbilly is one of the smartest and hard working people, you will ever meet because they use their elbow grease and common sense to work a “Miracle” on stubborn pieces of land to earn a living and raise their families. Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

 

 

The Miracle Of Life In The Ozarks

 

When you think of “The Ozarks” in the 1960s; you understand the word, “Miracle” is a reality.

 

The Ozarks’ lunar style geography of cliffs and bluffs, poor soil, an over abundance of rocks, moody weather, predator wildlife like wolves and coyotes as well as insect pests; it is a “Miracle” that people were able to live, earn a living, and sometimes prosper in this section of the United States.

 

When you are a child, you open your toys on Christmas Day. Underneath the Christmas Tree, you begin to play with the toys.

 

As a young man, you can find yourself trying to decide if you want to go “Home For The Holidays.”

 

As a senior citizen you can sit back with a cup of coffee or a glass of egg nog and remember the toys and the celebrations. When you look back long enough at your childhood, you really begin to understand and appreciate the sacrifices that your parents made for you.

 

At last, you can understand, the challenges, costs,hard work and the effort that your parents made to make Christmas seem like a “Magickal Holiday” that simply happens.

Sam

thumbnail 1 old missouri spring

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons license.

Written by samwarren55

December 23, 2012 at 4:23 PM

Posted in Bloggers, Blogs, Business, Crafts, Current Events, Ecology, Editorial, Family, Holidays, Money, Nature, Opinion, Patriotism, Rocks, Stone County History, The Ozarks, Tourism

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The World Is Still Here Doomsday Editorial by Samuel E.Warren Jr.

with 2 comments

The Mayans Got It Wrong

 

The

World

Is

Still

Here !

THE GLOBE_resized

Ho- Hum !

The Globe Spins On !

Today is December 21, 2012. Alas, the sun will shine December 22, 2012. Grandparents and parents you will still have to “pay off” those Christmas purchases; “Newsflash” – The World Didn’t End ! All the religious brouhaha could have been avoided and global paranoia settled by the realization that the Mayans had a reputation as serious astrologers like the Babylonians. Using their calendar and almanac system they computed “The End Of Their Astrological Age”, which they may have gotten right. But, global society seems to have an “End Of The World Fetish”, so people hunkered down for another silly “Doomsday Prophecy.” Someone tell the groundhogs they can come out of their holes, now.

Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

 

Today is Friday, December 21, 2012. The time is 4:57 p.m.

 

Today is suppose to be, “The Last Day Of Planet Earth.”

 

Today is suppose to be, “The End Of Days.”

 

The Mayans got the end of the world prediction wrong. Obviously.

 

The end of the world for the Mayans came a long time ago.

 

Missing Mayans

 

Scientists,archaeologists and historians are still trying to figure out the day the Mayans vaporized into mist.

 

They may have simply stepped into their space ships and punched up the engines to fly away.

 

They could of activated a talisman or amulet and stepped into a time and space wormhole to travel to another Earth Class planet across the cosmos. They forgot to leave a note saying, “We will be back. Feed the cat.”

 

They may have gotten a really bad case of “food poisoning” and all dropped dead overnight.

 

Of course, the Mayans ingrained ecology consciousness kicked in as they died and their biodegradable enzymes activated and they became “dust in the wind.”

 

The “End Of Days for the Mayans happened a long time before December 21, 2012 – so, “the Mayans got it wrong.”

 

The world is still here.

 

It is now, 6:16 pm and the sky hasn’t burst into flames. Huge chunks of rock aren’t flying up into the sky. The earth ain’t opening up into huge cracks. Raging, roaring rivers of water aren’t emerging out to the sides of coconut trees.

 

The Dumb, Dumb Doomsday Dudes” got it wrong again !

 

Earth’s Favorite Con Game

 

A Doomsday Prophet has to be the best job on the planet:

 

You tell the fairy tale. People throw tons of money at you. Businesses sprang up overnight to cater to the global paranoia.

 

Once the date passes, the prophet shrugs it off and says, “Back to the drawing board.”

 

Smart Old Dudes

 

The ancient doomsday prophets were smarter than their modern counterparts. The ancient guys and gals picked a date far enough out in the future that they would be dead and gone as dust in the wind before anyone ever realized “You’ve Been Had, Dad.”

 

The ancient guys knew a date way out in the future would provide them with a livelihood for their lifetime. The modern doomsday prophets are greedy, they want the “fat paycheck now.”

 

The Dumb Young Dudes

 

The modern doomsday guys and gals are counting on the e commerce revenue streams, product endorsements, book sales, talk shows, and news coverage to generate the capital that they can sock into the bank and live off of.

 

Unfortunately, when “Zero Day” arrives, the sun shines and the day naturally wears on – then, the modern, i.e., “young” dumb dudes have to “back pedal” their stories as “End Of An Era” or at the last moment enough people on earth “changed their wicked ways” and global disaster didn’t happen.

 

Around the mid to late 1980s there was the “fear” that earth’s pole might tip too far back or forward and cataclysmic weather would result. It didn’t happen, of course. Some religious nut job types claimed their all night prayer vigil had “saved the world.”

 

Of course, none of the “Planet Savers” came forward with any actual proof like real-time satellite imagery showing the earth tipping slightly forward or back with a time code clicking away in the corner, with a picture in picture inset of the planet savers streaking through the night sky to change earth’s rotational axis.

 

There were no cinema footage of the planet savers on their knees praying while a biological beam of light shoots out of the top of their little heads into the stratosphere to move the clouds and correct glitches in the Van Allen Radiation Belt.

 

The religious soothsayers didn’t even have any video of their group on their knees praying or dancing around naked out in the moonlight.

 

Once again, humanity had to imagine the Planet Savers disrobed and hanging their Lycra leotards and their spandex super suits back in the closet to await the next planetary peril.

 

Earth Heals

 

Planet Earth is a self-healing, living spaceship rotating through space. It is going to take more than some religious nut job doomsday prophets or a civilization thereof of religious nut job doomsday prophets for Planet Earth to “Cash In Her Chips” for the last time.

 

Every few years, some nut job comes along and plays on a basic human fear of humanity.

 

Death,” is a basic human fear.

 

The Big D” causes people to tremble at the thought of it.

 

Mass Extinction Events

 

Mass Extinction” for humanity seems to provide humankind a weird sort of comfort.

 

People usually “fear” “their own mortal death”.

 

People seem to take a weird comfort in the fact that some “event” is going to happen and “End Massive Amounts Of Human Lives At One Time.”

 

People “worry” about the end of the world. It is a “dumb worry.”

 

If God had stamped an “expiration date on Planet Earth” it would be obvious. Satellites in space would photograph the “Heavenly Bar Code” stamped into a mountain and the world would know.

 

If Spaceship Earth was coming apart at the seams, people would realize it because the structural cracks wouldn’t be limited to small areas of the planet.

 

The faults would all open up and spread out the energy around and through the globe and the planet would crumble like a cake.

 

The Universal Earth Engineer did a great interior design that allows Momma Earth to heal from within as well as from without.

 

Now, if a sun, asteroid, meteor, comet, or another planet is closing in on planet Earth; let us hope, NASA, the European Space Agency and the others who have “An Eye On The Sky” are watching.

 

Back Pedal Time

 

Already in the world news, the “Doomsday Predictors” have started to “back pedal” and come up with a reason, i.e., an “excuse” that the world didn’t “explode”, “crack apart like a dropped egg”, or “shimmy apart like the global stock markets.”

 

God, Allah, Yahweh, Jehovah, He, She, Goddess, Zeus, Hera, Diana, Isis, The Man Upstairs, The Woman Upstairs, The Big Super Dude, The Big Super Dudette – God, is a better universal engineer than man.

 

Humankind builds space ships. The Supreme Intellectual Entity Of The Universe builds suns and planets.

 

Never fear, by tomorrow, the “Doomsday Prophets” will have had time to lick their wounds and sleep off their hangovers.

 

By end of business tomorrow – Saturday, December 22, 2012 – there will be another “Doomsday Date” for generations of humanity to grow up in “fear” over.

 

Wait ! Saturday is the weekend !

 

The world will have to wait until Monday for the next Dumb, Dumb Doomsday Date.

 

Monday,December 24, 2012, while they do their “last minute Christmas shopping” – “The Dumb, Dumb Doomsday Dudes” will have another “End Of The World” date ready to generate global paranoid for future generations.

 

The Real World Armageddon Events

 

Apocalypse, Armageddon and the End Of The World usually happens several times a month and people just don’t notice.

 

Typhoons, tornadoes, tsunamis are natural apocalypses that occur as Momma Earth heals and changes herself. The large loss of human life is an apocalypse event.

 

Bomb explosions, large aircraft accidents, where planes “fall out of the sky”, and huge ships that “go down at sea” are all “Acts Of Armageddon.” Whether accidents or terrorism, there is a huge loss of human life, so this is an Armageddon event.

 

The reason why “The Real World Tragic Events” aren’t recognized for the “Apocalypse” and “Armageddon” events that they are is because the major religions of the world “NEED” their “Mass Extinction Event” to keep people coming back to the churches, synagogues and mosques of the world.

 

Otherwise the “Holy Men Of The Planet” would have to get “real jobs” to “earn a living.”

 

History is full of Apocalypse and Armageddon events: World War I, World War II, The San Francisco Earthquake of 1907, ( The New Madrid Earthquake in the 1800s, “when water flowed backwards”) The Bombing Of Pearl Harbor, The Battle Of The Alamo, The World Trade Centers Towers Terrorists Attack. All these events were “Apocalyptic.”

 

The fact that some religion’s hero didn’t show up to “Save The Day” is irrelevant.

 

All of these events were events that resulted in “Mass Extinction Of Human Lives.”

 

Every nation has a history of natural and man made disasters that are “Apocalypse” and “Armageddon” events, since people starting jotting down information for The Maintenance Record Of Planet Earth.

 

If a street corner holy man or holy woman comes up to you with his or her doomsday prophecy, just smile and give him or her some “small sheckles of silver” out of your pocket. Then, he or she can go get their brown bag of cheap wine.

 

Earth Built To Last

 

Earth ain’t going away. It is here to stay.

 

If the internal mechanics of the planets get seriously out of whack, then, it will be obvious.

 

If an external threat from space is en route, then, hopefully, the professional stargazers will reveal it to people in time to come up with a Plan A and a Plan B.

 

Go ahead, put your DVD of “2012” into the DVD player and lean back to watch the movie.

 

Again, Momma Earth is getting bad publicity from the “Doomsday Soothsayers.”By sunrise, some conman or con woman will have come up with another date for Doomsday.

 

Humanity’s Favorite

Doom And Gloom” Story

 

Without Humanity’s Favorite “Doom and Gloom” Story major sections of the global economy would suffer “The Holy Men And Holy Women Of The World Would Have To Get Real Jobs To Earn A Living.”

 

After centuries of parasitic storytelling, “Don’t expect them all to jump up at once to go out and get real ‘elbow grease’ and ‘sweat of the brow’ jobs. They can continue to rest comfortable on their backsides because the old ‘End Of The World Story’ is just “too good” to ever go away.

 

In the “Fear Of The Unknown Column” there is that microscopic fear that one day – “God The Father” – might just of had enough and starts tossing out “The Number 12 Lightning Bolts” right and left.

 

Zap ! Giant man salt shaker ! Zap ! Giant woman salt shaker !

 

Zap ! Zap ! Zap ! Giant Dead Salt Sea !

 

Wait, God has already done those numbers. After 21 Centuries, no doubt, he still has some Nuclear Number 12 Lightning Bolts to wreak out some havoc that has yet to be documented.

 

Is “The Big Boss Man” or “The Big Boss Woman” going to go “Planetary Postal” ?

 

Not likely. Pick up a newspaper and look at the headlines.

 

Another day of terrorism, rape, murder, crime, corruption,war, pain, suffering, hate and general discontent of humanity on planet Earth.

 

After centuries of controversy, conflict, calamity and catastrophe, God knows what to expect from mankind. Not much.

 

He isn’t going to waste time cleansing the world, when people simply need to “Grow Up” and act like evolved individuals.

 

Why should God destroy one of his best life creations just because the spoiled brats of earth don’t know how to play with their toys in the global living rooms of the planet ?”

 

Too Good A Story To Let Go Of

 

Besides, “The End Of The World” is a great story and movie idea. It is too good an idea for citizens of the world to “sluff off.”

 

End Of The World movies always provides a “Genesis” for a new film maker to make a name for himself or herself as a director.

 

End Of The World is always an “In the beginning” at the box office for a movie studios box office receipts.

 

America’s 1970s Cold War End Of The World Nuclear Annihilation movies were like blades of grass because they were everywhere.

 

While one Nuclear Winter End Of The World movie was on the screen in theaters, others were being shot in Hollywood back lots as soon as scripts could be written, actors could be hired and cameras loaded with film.

 

The population of the world could not seem to get enough of “The Global Suicide Story”

 

Four Horsemen Supreme Mythology

 

The Four Horsemen Of The Apocalypse is a timeless classic.

 

All a modern writer or storyteller has to do is change something like use four horse women, put the four heroes or heroines on camels,caribou, motorcycles or use four super human people or four angels.

 

Since some places in the Orient have a hangup on the number “Four” you change the number to 3, 5, 6, 10, 12 or some non-four number.

 

The writer or storyteller puts his or her “spin” on the basic story and you have a comedy, a fantasy, a drama or whatever type of script or manuscript that the writer was going for.

 

Do a really “burn the midnight oil job” on the story and don’t be surprised if the “spinoff” becomes a religion.

 

Fear Of The Unknown

 

The End Of The World is too good a story for Citizens Of The World to ever let go of. The story helps people to face their “Fear Of The Unknown.”

 

You take the basic human “Fear” of “Death” and you put it up on “The Big Screen” in Panavision, Technicolor, surround sound and watch “Poor Old Planet Earth Come Apart For The Umpteenth Time.”

 

A big box of buttered popcorn and a huge soda, in hand, you get to watch the world disappear in your lifetime. You do not have to run and scream into the night as burning chunks of meteors blaze down out of the sky on top of your head.

 

Of course, the “Hercules hero” or the “Athena heroine” is usually suppose to show up in the nick of time to scratch Atlas’ shoulder blade and keep the earth in place in space.

 

No need to fear your death. Death comes when Death comes.

 

We all live; we all die. Life is a natural process.

 

The End Of The World comes for us all.

 

Enjoy your life !

GLOBE THUMBNAIL LOGO ONE

Sam

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons license.

Written by samwarren55

December 21, 2012 at 10:11 PM

Posted in Bloggers, Blogs, Business, Current Events, Ecology, Editorial, Family, God, Holidays, Money, Nature, New Age, Observances, Opinion, Soap Box Religious Opinion, Zera, Zeus

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