A series of dreams, connected or not, they are frequent.
1. Sitting on the couch at my parents house, I see a spider. It is small, yet I can see EVERY single detail vividly. I look at it and watch as it jumps off of the couch and lands on my arm, sinking its teeth deeply into my flesh. I quickly remove it from my presence with a flick, and look at the bite expecting to feel fear due to what in my dream, I recognize as a conscious worry of being bitten. But, to my surprise, I feel no fear, only faith that I will be okay. In fact, I insistently demanded that I would be okay and physically restricted my arm from allowing the poison to course through my veins. That is dream one. 7-10-09.
2. Now dream two is very much different, because this time I was fearful of what everyone else was not fearful of. I was in a strange place, but apparently in my mind it was familiar. Many people I knew where there in a summer camp sense. My parents along with past school faculty were working on I dont know what. A flood came and quickly rose higher and higher. Everyone else had left except those working and myself. I wanted to leave but the building, or most of it, was beneath the water, but we were somehow okay due to, airtight doors and windows perhaps?
It is kind of hazy what happened here, but I remember getting outside and seeing all the water and soon after the storm stopping and my father saying, "I told you we'd be fine." I then saw my car and has been completely submerged, yet now it was okay. The bike rack was on the ground, off to the side. I felt that storm would be back. This is dream two. 7-11-09.
3. This dream is more recent, it was actually last night. I woke up with a completely different feeling. I was in longing for this to be true and I do not know why.
I was at the place where I work with a friend, who works there or had worked there, I will not say, but was related to the place in which I work at some point in time. Although it was work, it resembled something more laid back, I do not remember helping any customers, or seeing my employers. Nevertheless, I went out back with my coworker and we were taking the trash out together. Now keep in mind, I was at work, but outside looks nothing like the actual place, but in my mind, I was still at work. Well I told her I would give her a piggyback ride to the dumpster, and she agreed. Jumping on my back, awaiting the ride to the trash can, I felt a sense of excitement, I had butterflies, and I was happy with it. With her hands wrapped around me, we went to finish our job. On the way, for some reason I had the courage, and decided to kiss her hand. She stopped and walked with me somewhat excited that I had done so, saying something to the effect of, "We'd be happy, we could sleep close to each other, and shower together." (sorry this is what she said). All of this being said, it was not in a directly sexual way. From here, I dont know what happened, other than we were at a restraunt in a strange place that was falt and desert like, but had a consistenly busy atmosphere. We were with "friends" but I did not recognize them. This girl that I was with, got up and went to the restroom, and I followed in order to ask her about today. She walked ahead of me, not maliciously, but I just couldn't seem to catch up. She was walking with another guy, who was married, but was talking intently with her. I went to the restroom and then she and I walked back together. She said she was interested, but... and never resumed, for we were back at our table. From there we went back to my work late at night. We were able to open the doors knowing that it was closed. She turned on some reggae-esque hip hop and then went to the back of the store, I followed her, trying my best to formulate questions to ask her, about the "but..." moment we had earlier. I woke up and for some reason wanted it desperately to be true. 7-14-09.
4. This was my last dream. It was terrible violent so I won't go into it. It was almost as if I was on a movie set, and to be honest, I think I was...
I was in the dream, but it wasnt me. I seemed to be doing the action, but as a superhero that was trying to bring justice to a man shooting at him and others. I remember that I could not die, but could still feel the pain of the gunshots. I manuevered around him, not knowing what I was doing, yet knowing that it was soon going to trip him up in some way. Finally I caused him to wreck his car, and I tied something around his neck and was choking him, and beating him, and choking him more. It was vivid and colourful also. I stopped when a car drove by and asked for me to stop, and to let "her go." I was suprised because it was a very large man I was beating. I stopped and then, he stood up, except he was now a she. This girl got into the other car, and went away fine. The last thing i remember was a montage of video clips, where the girl who petioned for the other girl, and the girl I had aparantly fought, were acting together in movies. And then I woke up feeling disturbed. 7-14-09.
any ideas?
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Read for yourself without my comment
Instead of hating the people you think are war-makers, hate the appetites and disorder in your own soul, which are the causes of war. If you love peace, then hate injustice, hate tyranny, hate greed - but hate these things in yourself, not in another.
- Thomas Merton,
New Seeds of Contemplation
...and in other news....
Food libel laws
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
(Redirected from Veggie libel law)
Food libel laws, also known as "food disparagement laws", "veggie libel laws", or "veggie hate laws", are laws passed in 13 U.S. states that make it easier for food industry interests to sue their critics for libel. These 13 states are: Alabama, Arizona, Colorado, Florida, Georgia, Idaho, Louisiana, Mississippi, North Dakota, Ohio, Oklahoma, South Dakota, Texas. [1] Many of the food-disparagement laws punish First Amendment-protected expression, establish a lower standard for civil liability, allow for punitive damages and attorneys fees for plaintiffs alone[2], regardless of the case's outcome. Meaning, even if you are found innocent of Libel, for questioning whether or not hamburger contains ammonia or ecoli, you pay the legal fees of your persecution... Usually a team of very expensive lawyers from the best law firms money can buy.
Contents[hide] |
[edit] History
In 1996, television talk-show hostess Oprah Winfrey and one of her guests, Howard Lyman, were involved in a lawsuit surrounding the Texas version of this law. Although they were not the first people to be sued using this type of legal action, this case created a media sensation and is the example most people associate with food libel litigation.
These laws vary greatly from state to state, but they typically allow a food manufacturer or processor to sue a person or group who makes disparaging comments about their food products. In some states these laws also establish weaker standards of proof than are used in traditional American libel lawsuits.[citation needed]
In a normal U.S. libel suit, the plaintiff must prove that the defendant is deliberately and knowingly spreading false information. Under the Texas food disparagement law under which Winfrey and Lyman were sued, the plaintiffs — in this case, beef feedlot operator Paul Engler and the company Cactus Feeders — simply had to convince the jury that Lyman's statements on Winfrey's show deviated from "reasonable and reliable scientific inquiry, facts, or data."
One obvious trouble with such a law is that two reasonable, reliable scientists may not always agree. The subject that Engler and Cactus Feeders were suing Winfrey and Lyman over was BSE (also known as "mad cow disease") which has seen respected, reliable researchers reach quite different conclusions. Such a law partially shifts the burden of proof from the accuser.
Winfrey and Lyman won their case in 1998. However, the lawsuit also had the effect of silencing Winfrey. She stopped speaking on the issue, going so far as to decline to make videotapes of the original interview available to enquiring journalists.[3]
[edit] Alar
Proponents of food libel laws often cite the Alar "scare" as proof of the necessity of such laws, as farmers' protection against a loose-lipped public. In the Alar incident, a CBS report on a carcinogenic but widely used apple agrichemical led to a brief slump in the apple market[4] on Alar and a ban on the chemical. Apple growers subsequently sued CBS under existing libel laws and lost. "Never again — not another Alar" became a rallying cry for the food industry.
[edit] See also
[edit] References
- ^ http://cspinet.org/foodspeak/laws/existlaw.htm
- ^ http://www.thirdworldtraveler.com/Environment/Veggie_Libel.html
- ^ Sheldon Rampton, John Stauber (1997). Mad Cow USA: Could the nightmare happen here?. Madison, WI: Common Courage Press. pp. 192. ISBN 1567511112.
- ^ "Fruit Growers Pull Commercials To Protest Report by CBS". New York Times. May 7, 1989.
[edit] External links
- "Serving You Tonight Will Be Our Lawyer". New York Times. March 7, 2007
- "Farmers' Right to Sue Grows, Raising Debate on Food Safety". New York Times. June 1. 1999.
- "Apple growers bruised and bitter after alar scare". New York Times. July 9, 1991.
- Chilling effect of laws from the Center for Science in the Public Interest
- Existing laws by state Center for Science in the Public Interest.
And last but not least...
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Proof
Ezekiel 47:21
“So you shall divide this land among yourselves according to the tribes of Israel. 22 “You shall divide it by lot for an inheritance among yourselves and among the aliens who stay in your midst, who bring forth sons in your midst. And they shall be to you as the native-born among the sons of Israel; they shall be allotted an inheritance with you among the tribes of Israel. 23 “And in the tribe with which the alien stays, there you shall give him his inheritance,” declares the Lord GOD.
“So you shall divide this land among yourselves according to the tribes of Israel. 22 “You shall divide it by lot for an inheritance among yourselves and among the aliens who stay in your midst, who bring forth sons in your midst. And they shall be to you as the native-born among the sons of Israel; they shall be allotted an inheritance with you among the tribes of Israel. 23 “And in the tribe with which the alien stays, there you shall give him his inheritance,” declares the Lord GOD.
Taken From Freegaza.org
An Open Letter to President Obama
E-mail Print PDF
News
Wednesday, 03 June 2009 17:59 Written by Free Gaza Movement
03 June 2009
Dear President Obama,
Tomorrow you travel to Egypt to give one of the most important speeches of your presidency. With the words you deliver you have said that you want to “reset” U.S. relations with the Muslim world and create a fundamental change for the better. We sincerely wish you well. But you have also said that “part of being a good friend is being honest.” Let’s be honest.
Israel’s ongoing occupation and colonization of Palestinian land and the United States’ unquestioned financial, military and political support for Israel is at the heart of the negative perceptions and bitter anger that many Arabs and Muslims have of the United States. Tomorrow, we hope to hear from you a commitment to aligning U.S. policy in the Middle East with U.N. Resolutions and international law.
The Universal Declaration of Human Rights gives everyone the right to freely enter and exit one’s own country. You will exercise this right when you arrive in Egypt tomorrow and then return to the United States. This is a right that Palestinians--particularly those trapped in Gaza--are routinely denied.
* Over 200 Palestinian medical patients in Gaza, many critically ill, are unable to seek adequate treatment because Israeli authorities regularly deny Palestinian patients the right to travel abroad to receive the medical treatment that is not available in Gaza; at the same time import of many medicines and medical equipment into Gaza is prevented by Israel.
* Over 700 Palestinian students in Gaza, many with scholarships, are unable to attend their universities abroad because Israel regularly denies them this right.
* Thousands of Palestinians abroad are unable to visit their families because Israel will not allow them to re-enter their own country.
When you arrive in Egypt you will travel to your accommodations in a car maintained with spare parts banned to Palestinians, powered by gasoline denied to the people of Gaza. You will use electric lights that do not often work in Gaza, because Israel blocks the fuel needed to run Gaza’s electrical grid. You may enjoy a cup of coffee or tea during your visit - commodities Israel will not allow into Gaza.
The truth is that Israel lets in less than 20% of the ordinary supplies needed in Gaza, and allows no reconstruction materials whatsoever to enter. As a consequence over 95% of all industries have collapsed, creating massive unemployment and poverty. The purpose of the Israeli blockade is to punish and break an entire people. Collective punishment is strictly prohibited under international law, yet it remains Israel’s primary policy in regards to the Palestinian people.
On June 25th, the Free Gaza Movement sets sail on our eighth voyage to challenge the brutal Israeli blockade of Gaza. Though we have been threatened and our ships rammed by the Israeli navy, we will not be deterred. We sail in the spirit of the Freedom Riders who, in the year you were born, risked their lives so that African-Americans could travel freely in the United States. We sail in the spirit of international cooperation that helped create the United Nations, in the spirit of the international civil resistance that overcame Apartheid.
President Obama, you have based your political career on what you call the “audacity of hope” - the faith that each of us, individually and collectively, can change things for the better. But faith without action is dead. We too believe in hope, but from our experience we know that hope alone will not change the world. Like you, we know that the price and promise of our mutual humanity demands that each of us treat one another with dignity and respect, and that all of us strive to insure that our sisters and brothers around the world are free to make of their lives what they will, and pursue their full measure of happiness.
Mister President, you led the fight in the U.S. Senate to insure that aid was actually delivered to people after Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans. A man-made disaster continues to devastate the people of Gaza; due to Israel’s ongoing hermetic closure of the Gaza Strip over 80% of the population there require food assistance just in order to survive. We hope your speech tomorrow in Egypt is successful but, at a minimum, you must use your privilege to demand and secure open access to Gaza for all international humanitarian, reconstruction, and developmental supplies. Words matter, but words are not enough.
We in the Free Gaza Movement will sail to Gaza again and again and again, in vigorous unarmed resistance, until the Israeli blockade is forever shattered and the Palestinian people have free access to the rest of the world.
Please recognize that the fact that we even have to ask (let alone risk our lives) to be allowed to provide food to the hungry, medicine to the sick, and shelter to the homeless is in itself an obscenity. We look forward to hearing from you an uncompromising commitment for the immediate end of the criminal siege of Gaza, as well as an assurance that respect for the human rights, dignity and equality of the Palestinian people will be at the core of your administration’s policy toward the Israeli-Arab conflict.
Sincerely Yours,
The Free Gaza Movement Board of Directors
Huwaida Arraf, JD
Greta Berlin
Eliza Ernshire
Derek Graham
Fathi Jaouadi
Ramzi Kysia
E-mail Print PDF
News
Wednesday, 03 June 2009 17:59 Written by Free Gaza Movement
03 June 2009
Dear President Obama,
Tomorrow you travel to Egypt to give one of the most important speeches of your presidency. With the words you deliver you have said that you want to “reset” U.S. relations with the Muslim world and create a fundamental change for the better. We sincerely wish you well. But you have also said that “part of being a good friend is being honest.” Let’s be honest.
Israel’s ongoing occupation and colonization of Palestinian land and the United States’ unquestioned financial, military and political support for Israel is at the heart of the negative perceptions and bitter anger that many Arabs and Muslims have of the United States. Tomorrow, we hope to hear from you a commitment to aligning U.S. policy in the Middle East with U.N. Resolutions and international law.
The Universal Declaration of Human Rights gives everyone the right to freely enter and exit one’s own country. You will exercise this right when you arrive in Egypt tomorrow and then return to the United States. This is a right that Palestinians--particularly those trapped in Gaza--are routinely denied.
* Over 200 Palestinian medical patients in Gaza, many critically ill, are unable to seek adequate treatment because Israeli authorities regularly deny Palestinian patients the right to travel abroad to receive the medical treatment that is not available in Gaza; at the same time import of many medicines and medical equipment into Gaza is prevented by Israel.
* Over 700 Palestinian students in Gaza, many with scholarships, are unable to attend their universities abroad because Israel regularly denies them this right.
* Thousands of Palestinians abroad are unable to visit their families because Israel will not allow them to re-enter their own country.
When you arrive in Egypt you will travel to your accommodations in a car maintained with spare parts banned to Palestinians, powered by gasoline denied to the people of Gaza. You will use electric lights that do not often work in Gaza, because Israel blocks the fuel needed to run Gaza’s electrical grid. You may enjoy a cup of coffee or tea during your visit - commodities Israel will not allow into Gaza.
The truth is that Israel lets in less than 20% of the ordinary supplies needed in Gaza, and allows no reconstruction materials whatsoever to enter. As a consequence over 95% of all industries have collapsed, creating massive unemployment and poverty. The purpose of the Israeli blockade is to punish and break an entire people. Collective punishment is strictly prohibited under international law, yet it remains Israel’s primary policy in regards to the Palestinian people.
On June 25th, the Free Gaza Movement sets sail on our eighth voyage to challenge the brutal Israeli blockade of Gaza. Though we have been threatened and our ships rammed by the Israeli navy, we will not be deterred. We sail in the spirit of the Freedom Riders who, in the year you were born, risked their lives so that African-Americans could travel freely in the United States. We sail in the spirit of international cooperation that helped create the United Nations, in the spirit of the international civil resistance that overcame Apartheid.
President Obama, you have based your political career on what you call the “audacity of hope” - the faith that each of us, individually and collectively, can change things for the better. But faith without action is dead. We too believe in hope, but from our experience we know that hope alone will not change the world. Like you, we know that the price and promise of our mutual humanity demands that each of us treat one another with dignity and respect, and that all of us strive to insure that our sisters and brothers around the world are free to make of their lives what they will, and pursue their full measure of happiness.
Mister President, you led the fight in the U.S. Senate to insure that aid was actually delivered to people after Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans. A man-made disaster continues to devastate the people of Gaza; due to Israel’s ongoing hermetic closure of the Gaza Strip over 80% of the population there require food assistance just in order to survive. We hope your speech tomorrow in Egypt is successful but, at a minimum, you must use your privilege to demand and secure open access to Gaza for all international humanitarian, reconstruction, and developmental supplies. Words matter, but words are not enough.
We in the Free Gaza Movement will sail to Gaza again and again and again, in vigorous unarmed resistance, until the Israeli blockade is forever shattered and the Palestinian people have free access to the rest of the world.
Please recognize that the fact that we even have to ask (let alone risk our lives) to be allowed to provide food to the hungry, medicine to the sick, and shelter to the homeless is in itself an obscenity. We look forward to hearing from you an uncompromising commitment for the immediate end of the criminal siege of Gaza, as well as an assurance that respect for the human rights, dignity and equality of the Palestinian people will be at the core of your administration’s policy toward the Israeli-Arab conflict.
Sincerely Yours,
The Free Gaza Movement Board of Directors
Huwaida Arraf, JD
Greta Berlin
Eliza Ernshire
Derek Graham
Fathi Jaouadi
Ramzi Kysia
Monday, June 1, 2009
Thank You, Jesus Manifesto and Samuel Clemens.
"It was a time of great and exalting excitement. The country was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers hissing and spluttering; on every hand and far down the receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory which stirred the deepest deeps of their hearts, and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while; in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and country, and invoked the God of Battles beseeching His aid in our good cause in outpourings of fervid eloquence which moved every listener. It was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast a doubt upon its righteousness straightway got such a stern and angry warning that for their personal safety’s sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended no more in that way.
Sunday morning came — next day the battalions would leave for the front; the church was filled; the volunteers were there, their young faces alight with martial dreams — visions of the stern advance, the gathering momentum, the rushing charge, the flashing sabers, the flight of the foe, the tumult, the enveloping smoke, the fierce pursuit, the surrender! Then home from the war, bronzed heroes, welcomed, adored, submerged in golden seas of glory! With the volunteers sat their dear ones, proud, happy, and envied by the neighbors and friends who had no sons and brothers to send forth to the field of honor, there to win for the flag, or, failing, die the noblest of noble deaths. The service proceeded; a war chapter from the Old Testament was read; the first prayer was said; it was followed by an organ burst that shook the building, and with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes and beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation:
God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest! Thunder thy clarion and lightning thy sword!
Then came the “long” prayer. None could remember the like of it for passionate pleading and moving and beautiful language. The burden of its supplication was, that an ever-merciful and benignant Father of us all would watch over our noble young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and encourage them in their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the day of battle and the hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make them strong and confident, invincible in the bloody onset; help them to crush the foe, grant to them and to their flag and country imperishable honor and glory –
An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless step up the main aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister, his long body clothed in a robe that reached to his feet, his head bare, his white hair descending in a frothy cataract to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale, pale even to ghastliness. With all eyes following him and wondering, he made his silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the preacher’s side and stood there waiting. With shut lids the preacher, unconscious of his presence, continued with his moving prayer, and at last finished it with the words, uttered in fervent appeal, “Bless our arms, grant us the victory, O Lord our God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!”
The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside — which the startled minister did — and took his place. During some moments he surveyed the spellbound audience with solemn eyes, in which burned an uncanny light; then in a deep voice he said:
“I come from the Throne — bearing a message from Almighty God!” The words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave no attention. “He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and will grant it if such shall be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have explained to you its import — that is to say, its full import. For it is like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who utters it is aware of — except he pause and think.
“God’s servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two — one uttered, the other not. Both have reached the ear of Him Who heareth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken. Ponder this — keep it in mind. If you would beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon a neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing of rain upon your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse upon some neighbor’s crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it.
“You have heard your servant’s prayer — the uttered part of it. I am commissioned of God to put into words the other part of it — that part which the pastor — and also you in your hearts — fervently prayed silently. And ignorantly and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so! You heard these words: ‘Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!’ That is sufficient. the *whole* of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow victory–*must* follow it, cannot help but follow it. Upon the listening spirit of God fell also the unspoken part of the prayer. He commandeth me to put it into words. Listen!
“O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth to battle — be Thou near them! With them — in spirit — we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it — for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.
[pause]
“Ye have prayed it; if ye still desire it, speak! The messenger of the Most High waits!”
It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because there was no sense in what he said."
"It was a time of great and exalting excitement. The country was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers hissing and spluttering; on every hand and far down the receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory which stirred the deepest deeps of their hearts, and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while; in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and country, and invoked the God of Battles beseeching His aid in our good cause in outpourings of fervid eloquence which moved every listener. It was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast a doubt upon its righteousness straightway got such a stern and angry warning that for their personal safety’s sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended no more in that way.
Sunday morning came — next day the battalions would leave for the front; the church was filled; the volunteers were there, their young faces alight with martial dreams — visions of the stern advance, the gathering momentum, the rushing charge, the flashing sabers, the flight of the foe, the tumult, the enveloping smoke, the fierce pursuit, the surrender! Then home from the war, bronzed heroes, welcomed, adored, submerged in golden seas of glory! With the volunteers sat their dear ones, proud, happy, and envied by the neighbors and friends who had no sons and brothers to send forth to the field of honor, there to win for the flag, or, failing, die the noblest of noble deaths. The service proceeded; a war chapter from the Old Testament was read; the first prayer was said; it was followed by an organ burst that shook the building, and with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes and beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation:
God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest! Thunder thy clarion and lightning thy sword!
Then came the “long” prayer. None could remember the like of it for passionate pleading and moving and beautiful language. The burden of its supplication was, that an ever-merciful and benignant Father of us all would watch over our noble young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and encourage them in their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the day of battle and the hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make them strong and confident, invincible in the bloody onset; help them to crush the foe, grant to them and to their flag and country imperishable honor and glory –
An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless step up the main aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister, his long body clothed in a robe that reached to his feet, his head bare, his white hair descending in a frothy cataract to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale, pale even to ghastliness. With all eyes following him and wondering, he made his silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the preacher’s side and stood there waiting. With shut lids the preacher, unconscious of his presence, continued with his moving prayer, and at last finished it with the words, uttered in fervent appeal, “Bless our arms, grant us the victory, O Lord our God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!”
The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside — which the startled minister did — and took his place. During some moments he surveyed the spellbound audience with solemn eyes, in which burned an uncanny light; then in a deep voice he said:
“I come from the Throne — bearing a message from Almighty God!” The words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave no attention. “He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and will grant it if such shall be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have explained to you its import — that is to say, its full import. For it is like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who utters it is aware of — except he pause and think.
“God’s servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two — one uttered, the other not. Both have reached the ear of Him Who heareth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken. Ponder this — keep it in mind. If you would beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon a neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing of rain upon your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse upon some neighbor’s crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it.
“You have heard your servant’s prayer — the uttered part of it. I am commissioned of God to put into words the other part of it — that part which the pastor — and also you in your hearts — fervently prayed silently. And ignorantly and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so! You heard these words: ‘Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!’ That is sufficient. the *whole* of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow victory–*must* follow it, cannot help but follow it. Upon the listening spirit of God fell also the unspoken part of the prayer. He commandeth me to put it into words. Listen!
“O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth to battle — be Thou near them! With them — in spirit — we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it — for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.
[pause]
“Ye have prayed it; if ye still desire it, speak! The messenger of the Most High waits!”
It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because there was no sense in what he said."
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Saturday, January 3, 2009
It is not eloquent or easy to read. There is nothing about it that should be easy to digest, that is exactly why it should be read. In memory of both the oppressed and the oppressor... we have to believe that there is liberation and renewal for both. Christ, we ask for amazement, energy, and redemption for both the Israelis and the Palestinians.
Jean Stewart
El Sobrante, CA
©2008
"I wrote this poem partly in response to the Israeli policy of home demolition by bulldozer.
Palestinian families whose homes are targeted for destruction are notified by loudspeaker.
Sometimes they’re given barely half an hour to carry out their belongings and vacate their
homes. Many elderly and disabled Palestinians have been buried in the rubble of their homes
because they could not, or would not, leave.
I also wrote the poem in response to the many incidents in which pregnant Palestinian women
have attempted to make it to hospital, only to be stopped at checkpoint by Israeli soldiers who
refuse to let them pass, forcing them to either turn around and drive home or give birth at
checkpoint. In either case, these births take place under circumstances of extreme stress and
danger, without medical assistance, with sometimes disastrous consequences.
Both of these scenarios—women giving birth “in extremis” and Palestinian families made
homeless when their houses are demolished—have become commonplace in Palestine. In my
mind I’ve tended to view them as two separate—though obviously related—narratives, but
recently it occurred to me that somewhere in Gaza or Jenin or elsewhere in Palestine, the two
horrific scenarios are bound to converge, if they have not already."
THE CHOICE
“I ask you youngest citizens to believe the evidence of your eyes. You have seen that life is fragile, and evil is real, and courage triumphs. Make the choice to serve in a cause larger than your wants, larger than yourself, and in your days you will add not just to the wealth of your country but to its character." -- George W. Bush
***
Jean Stewart
El Sobrante, CA
©2008
"I wrote this poem partly in response to the Israeli policy of home demolition by bulldozer.
Palestinian families whose homes are targeted for destruction are notified by loudspeaker.
Sometimes they’re given barely half an hour to carry out their belongings and vacate their
homes. Many elderly and disabled Palestinians have been buried in the rubble of their homes
because they could not, or would not, leave.
I also wrote the poem in response to the many incidents in which pregnant Palestinian women
have attempted to make it to hospital, only to be stopped at checkpoint by Israeli soldiers who
refuse to let them pass, forcing them to either turn around and drive home or give birth at
checkpoint. In either case, these births take place under circumstances of extreme stress and
danger, without medical assistance, with sometimes disastrous consequences.
Both of these scenarios—women giving birth “in extremis” and Palestinian families made
homeless when their houses are demolished—have become commonplace in Palestine. In my
mind I’ve tended to view them as two separate—though obviously related—narratives, but
recently it occurred to me that somewhere in Gaza or Jenin or elsewhere in Palestine, the two
horrific scenarios are bound to converge, if they have not already."
THE CHOICE
“I ask you youngest citizens to believe the evidence of your eyes. You have seen that life is fragile, and evil is real, and courage triumphs. Make the choice to serve in a cause larger than your wants, larger than yourself, and in your days you will add not just to the wealth of your country but to its character." -- George W. Bush
In Palestine the about-to-be
firstborn of a twenty two year old
woman roils and churns in amniotic
unease his journey having
hit a snag when checkpoint
soldiers deny his parents passage
thwarting all thought of
hospital birth.
They turn and drive home.
Not yet a citizen of
the human world he doesn’t
see how his mother’s sweat
wets the sheets glues brown hair to cheeks
nor how his father hovers: Love I’m here
Don’t cry Doesn’t hear what
his father now hears: the tanks.
If he were a born boy he’d see his father
turn on the television
2
loud slip from the room to race
outdoors arms aloft pleading
No stop my wife—
while she
grips the mattress, arching her back.
He’d see his mother lost
in labor oblivious to
loudspeaker
gunfire tanks
She wails stops wails
Her brown eyes fix
on the American who sits
at his desk amidst marvelous order—
just a few papers in one neat stack—squinting
back at her and speaking. The camera moves
outdoors to gaze at the White House
shimmering in sun. Presidential words
vibrate glinting like tossed coins.
Courage triumphs
Look Hassan! Such green green
grass!
Serve in a cause
And flowers! Hassan let’s plant—
In those moments just as
her body loses itself in a wild red
flowering of flesh
he the unseeing
the neverborn
he of the tiny
bulldozed bud of a heart
makes his choice
and will carry it
will carry it
will carry it on.
firstborn of a twenty two year old
woman roils and churns in amniotic
unease his journey having
hit a snag when checkpoint
soldiers deny his parents passage
thwarting all thought of
hospital birth.
They turn and drive home.
Not yet a citizen of
the human world he doesn’t
see how his mother’s sweat
wets the sheets glues brown hair to cheeks
nor how his father hovers: Love I’m here
Don’t cry Doesn’t hear what
his father now hears: the tanks.
If he were a born boy he’d see his father
turn on the television
2
loud slip from the room to race
outdoors arms aloft pleading
No stop my wife—
while she
grips the mattress, arching her back.
He’d see his mother lost
in labor oblivious to
loudspeaker
gunfire tanks
She wails stops wails
Her brown eyes fix
on the American who sits
at his desk amidst marvelous order—
just a few papers in one neat stack—squinting
back at her and speaking. The camera moves
outdoors to gaze at the White House
shimmering in sun. Presidential words
vibrate glinting like tossed coins.
Courage triumphs
Look Hassan! Such green green
grass!
Serve in a cause
And flowers! Hassan let’s plant—
In those moments just as
her body loses itself in a wild red
flowering of flesh
he the unseeing
the neverborn
he of the tiny
bulldozed bud of a heart
makes his choice
and will carry it
will carry it
will carry it on.
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