Easter Review

As we come upon the Easter Holiday, once a tradition of Mother Earth bringing forth to life again at the turn of the season, now a tradition of worshiping the killing of the Youngest Son of God meant to redeem mankind for his bloodshed and subsequent resurrection, I've given a lot of thought to the perversity that has run rampant through mankind. I spent the first 16 years of my life ignorant to the ways of man, and the next 16 years trying to deeply understand whether a person can correct those horrible mistakes made in that ignorance. Is the story supposed to bring us joy or remorse for making him pay for the sins of mankind?

I honestly find the whole story terrifying, demonic, in fact, that there is so much focus on death in the modern Christian Church. Instead of pointing fingers let me just tell the story as how I see it.

At somewhere in the world's religious history, there came about some sort of messiah or chosen one that would redeem mankind for some sort of super-sin, or unspeakable behavior that somehow taints the soul within all mankind. It greatly disturbs me to see many people focused on the things said in "prophecy" that says this guy is the messiah, rather than the teachings he espouses, and also instead of focusing on this guys teachings they await his return as some super hero straight out of the comic book movies that has entranced our society for almost a decade. As if just believing in a thing let's one behave like a fool discarding the very mind that our creation processes have given us.

This covid-19 virus has certainly come at an interesting time. Here it is that I wish to convey to anyone of any faith, religion, belief, understanding, or creed, as somebody who has had direct exposure to pretty much every layer of our society as some sort of paraded witness to the lost virtues given to us through a particular school of thought or belief, that these are mere stories and they hold a tremendous power over the hearts and souls of mankind. I can't even say that placing them into the realm of mythology hasn't given them any less power but greatly increases Man's ultimate understanding of himself. But only leads me to more questions than any solid answer.

Why is it that we have a Church that celebrates the murders of God's messengers before making them saints? Why is it they celebrate the killing of the Son of God on the day of Celebration of the Season of Birth in Nature? I'm honestly terror stricken when I think about the gross display of what I had learned early in life as demonic. In my interactions with members of my previous community, and members of the Dying God's Church, I'm in shock that they don't recognize the eating of the bread and drinking of the wine as the body and blood of "Christ" as purely necromantic as you can get. Transubstantiation is what they call it. According to all the ancient texts that I have read and all the stories that I've been told, that's demonic ritual. I don't care if it produces actual magical results, the practice of it, even just going through the motions of it, is the ritual part, and in ritual practice: demonic.

Even the reactions of the rich are completely anti-Christian as you can get and they run the western world, publicly claiming practitioners of Christ's teachings but certainly they're as ungenerous as one can get, staking the actual lives of people for the digital footprint of a dollar. Where in the Bible does Christ say that's cool? My aunt tells me that people just read Christ's teachings differently, but never have I seen such disregard for his actual words. In jail I reread them, the first time since leaving the Christian faith in 2009, and openly doing so since 2013. I remember really liking Jesus as a dude, and believing him and I could be friends growing up. Even though I turned my Way towards the Tao (which means Way), doesn't mean that I liked the man any less. He spoke of the Way, the Truth, and the Light as a means to self discovery. Even though the spice of the details was purposely put in to detract from the meat, the actual substance of the teachings are still profoundly wonderful. While I was in jail I remembered the conversations I'd have with my grandfather on what He would mean by what had been said.

Just like the Baghavad Gita sang to me in my first readings, so did these once again. I pictured my grandfather teaching me about the scriptures once again and me seeking those video games and books that echoed his platitudes of facing the demons of the world because King David walked with God, Christ showed us how to walk with God, my great-grandfather walked with God. But in my own walk I have felt that I have been further from God and I've tried to seek him again through everything. When I was younger I walked blindly into the military because of misplaced faith in the words that had been given to me.

I'm unsure who God really is, only that it's the highest supreme absolute thing that I could think of, which is All things, including us, so I'd very much like to meet the thing that did engender us and bring us into this cosmos. Why are we murdering ourselves and taking pleasure from it? Why do we not spend Easter in Grief that those wicked men murdered "God's only begotten Son" instead of just celebrating his "rebirth". I feel that we forget about those that killed the Christ all survived and probably set watch for his "prophesied" return. That's why they celebrate his death, under the guise of the "rebirth." But in that same sense we have the "death sandwich" which is Birth, death, "rebirth", much like the Tarot deck places Death, the card of transformation, into the center as the 13th in the Manor Arcana.

I find that as I study more and more of the poetic and mystical portions of the Old Faiths I find them incredibly different in degree they are from the monothiestic traditions of that one Desert Tribe. For some reason, they developed a person that was going to save them and prove to the world that they're the best, better than anyone else, and punish those that didn't believe in the supremeness of their own lord. With the stories and persecution that these people have experienced, it sounds like the mentality of an abused child wanting rescuing from their abusers. Which is understandable, I've directly seen the destruction one society can do to another through war and the searching for a way to fight back against your oppressors.

I fear they have been puppets used by the Church because it is the mentality of a slave's god. The belief that somebody is going to come and rescue you in your desperate time of need, is indeed a slave's mentality. We wonder why Christianity caught on so wonderfully in the South of the United States, it was because Christ offers sanctuary from the pain that you are experiencing beyond the physical and that the he can set you free. But on this earth you shall obey your masters and not permit a woman to teach over you, hear?

I've spent a lot of time criticizing my old religion and pursing what is actual truth, these last few years. People have criticized me for revealing what I've done and making up a wide array of my own degree of weaknesses, but I'm not sure they're even looking deeply into why I've made my own story known. It's all conjectures based on whatever their own belief systems are, and I've done my best at discarding any mythology but what attracts my own inner compass, so my job is to show you what I stand for, and reveal the disaster that can happen to one's own life by blindly following orders and being afraid of standing up for the truth until the end.

My own injury and my recovery has been an 8 year endeavor at this point and never had I made it a point in any of my talks of what has happened. I was ashamed that I had trained and studied for 4 years for something and fucked it up because I was trying way way way too hard. I had a dream of being something good for my military because the drone program was as gross an abuse of power as any in our history of the World. In essence my injury killed that person. When I was in the Hospital I had a dream of meeting the people I killed. They were standing around my bed, just waiting. I was terrified, I knew how much of a cowardly thing it was to kill people with drones. Each death I felt as if it were a fracturing of my soul. I find that those that mock me for trying to explain this have never experienced anything difficult in their life or life shattering. I would say that those in charge knew what they were doing when they made us do those things. They were not blind as we were pretending to be.

But I saw no god nor a devil, just the results of my own life's poor choices and the pitiful losses. Where was the Christ to redeem me or to chastise me? Nothing there but my awareness and dead of those I had helped cut off from this world. An eternity of shame. I had met Korean and Vietnam war vets who understood. They know what I'm saying and sometimes they ask me why I'm trying to say it out loud. It's because I don't want to be thinking about this 60 years in the future when history is trying to look back at why the Dystopic States of America did what they did in the early 2000's. I don't want to be lost in my head at a memory or a dream of what I had done. How horribly detached we actually were, and how much of a political game it was for those seeking fast track to higher rank.

It is this and these experiences that turn me away from all the religious nonsense, but allows me to see them from a perspective that is very rarely discussed. I question the displaying of the "passion of the Christ" as a mockery of his death rather than a celebration of his life. In the Ancient Faiths, before the Christ, this was a day of new love and new life. Mankind was a part of Nature's cycle as much as anything else in her repartee. In the modern faith this day is about murder and "rebirth." Seeing the apparatus from the inside and the outside has't made living any easier, in fact it just makes me feel more and more powerless.

I find a special comfort in my own self, in that when push came to shove, I would actually do the right thing and truth is the best weapon in the world. I love that everything that I've said can be held in a light and be shown as truth, because that's how I lived my whole life. I never shied away from following my own heart. No religion could chain me, or degrade what I see as purity in the Soul. I'm just very sad that our society lives under religion's name but doesn't follow any of it's doctrines. As one sergeant kept telling me when I would say that something isn't "right", he would say, "well, that's just how it works in the real Air Force."

Even the Christ says this whole thing against hypocracy and the "teachers" of the time.

A Warning Against Hypocrisy

1Then Jesus said to the crowds and to his disciples: 2“The teachers of the law and the Pharisees sit in Moses’ seat. 3So you must be careful to do everything they tell you. But do not do what they do, for they do not practice what they preach. 4They tie up heavy, cumbersome loads and put them on other people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them.

5“Everything they do is done for people to see: They make their phylacteries ^a wide and the tassels on their garments long; 6they love the place of honor at banquets and the most important seats in the synagogues; 7they love to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces and to be called ‘Rabbi’ by others.

8“But you are not to be called ‘Rabbi,’ for you have one Teacher, and you are all brothers. 9And do not call anyone on earth ‘father,’ for you have one Father, and he is in heaven. 10Nor are you to be called instructors, for you have one Instructor, the Messiah. 11The greatest among you will be your servant. 12For those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.

Seven Woes on the Teachers of the Law and the Pharisees

13“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You shut the door of the kingdom of heaven in people’s faces. You yourselves do not enter, nor will you let those enter who are trying to. [14] ^b

15“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You travel over land and sea to win a single convert, and when you have succeeded, you make them twice as much a child of hell as you are.

16“Woe to you, blind guides! You say, ‘If anyone swears by the temple, it means nothing; but anyone who swears by the gold of the temple is bound by that oath.’ 17You blind fools! Which is greater: the gold, or the temple that makes the gold sacred? 18You also say, ‘If anyone swears by the altar, it means nothing; but anyone who swears by the gift on the altar is bound by that oath.’ 19You blind men! Which is greater: the gift, or the altar that makes the gift sacred? 20Therefore, anyone who swears by the altar swears by it and by everything on it. 21And anyone who swears by the temple swears by it and by the one who dwells in it. 22And anyone who swears by heaven swears by God’s throne and by the one who sits on it.

23“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You give a tenth of your spices—mint, dill and cumin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law—justice, mercy and faithfulness. You should have practiced the latter, without neglecting the former. 24You blind guides! You strain out a gnat but swallow a camel.

25“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. 26Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean.

27“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean. 28In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.

29“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You build tombs for the prophets and decorate the graves of the righteous. 30And you say, ‘If we had lived in the days of our ancestors, we would not have taken part with them in shedding the blood of the prophets.’ 31So you testify against yourselves that you are the descendants of those who murdered the prophets. 32Go ahead, then, and complete what your ancestors started!

33“You snakes! You brood of vipers! How will you escape being condemned to hell? 34Therefore I am sending you prophets and sages and teachers. Some of them you will kill and crucify; others you will flog in your synagogues and pursue from town to town. 35And so upon you will come all the righteous blood that has been shed on earth, from the blood of righteous Abel to the blood of Zechariah son of Berekiah, whom you murdered between the temple and the altar. 36Truly I tell you, all this will come on this generation.

37“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing. 38Look, your house is left to you desolate. 39For I tell you, you will not see me again until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’  




Now hold that up to what is happening in the world today and ask yourself, What would Jesus Do?

Pray the end of this horrible monstrosity of whatever has a hold on our society and the spirit of mankind. Especially in this crisis we cannot have the hypocrites and the liars run our world. They will be the end of us all.

World of Warcraft Review no spoilers

Because I've got a ton of free time on my hands at the moment, I decided to start playing World of Warcraft again. I played it during my military service, with quite a few of my co-workers, and it was a way for many of us to play in war while dealing with the reality of what we were doing in our type of warfare. It was an escape for most.

With the quarantine up and ready, I decided to play through the storylines on both sides of the battle through the last 3 expansions. Warlords of Draenor, Legion, and the Battle for Azeroth. I missed out on Cataclysm and Mists of Pandaria due to my previous account being hacked at the end of my active duty service and me sacrificing it because it gave me an excuse to just focus on my training for SERE. By the time I left active duty, I was sick of most everything electronic, seeing the web of information everywhere I walked.

But now I'm back, and I decided to walk the roads my old self had once walked. I grew up playing the original WarCraft, along with my favorite WarCraft 2: beyond the dark portal. With the failed release of WarCraft 3, completely below any decent standard of promise/delivery, I got to thinking of "what would I have done had I been the one making the decisions?" Since getting my desktop back after having it in storage since 2011, I built it in 2010 to play Skyrim at max setttings, I put Unity's free program on it to give it a go and see what it is that I would create, given the chance. The WarCraft story is the first to be broken apart and digested.  Since WarCraft is a mishmash of so many other science fiction/fantasy/mythologies, I'll review it as a player and a mythology and history scholar.

While I will get into what World of WarCraft has done wrong, mainly not giving every expansion it's own set of parameters and boundaries that interact with another as a part of evolution instead of taking away something that we already have and giving it to us in a different skin. Though I have been impressed with the streamlining and qualities of life, there is so much content to be explored and chances for growth that it would be a failure of Blizzard as a company to not utilize all the knowledge at its disposal to create a playable "museum of blizzard" kind of Game for the WarCraft series.

To reference the failure of the WarCraft 3 Remake, it was barely an upgrade in character models. One of the laziest money grabs that I had ever seen by a once respected company. I say that not to belittle them but to recognize that a good product is the sign of a good company. A poor product is the sign of a greedy and lazy company. We're only here for a small amount of time and there is no reason for us to not put our effort into all that we create on this earth. I had really hoped for an updated map creator, much like the game for ps4 Dreams. The way that the stories went in my head is so different than the ones that played out it would be like creating my own "What IF?" When I had made that decision I got arrested and spent 31 days in the county jail. Much of these ideas are what I was thinking about pre-arrest, and what I've been dwelling on since the quarantine began.

Warlords of Draenor:

Okay, I played through Warlords as a Worgen Guardian Druid. I loved the idea of the classes that can play all roles, and since I had played a Blood Elf Paladin in the Burning Crusade and Wrath of the Lich King, I decided to play one from either goblin or worgen as I missed their introduction and I really don't like the pandaren, so it turned me off to Monk. Since neither goblins or worgen can be monks I chose the druid.

There are two things that I learned from this, that I didn't play any of the Alliance quests in either Burning Crusade nor in Wrath, and the ability to shape change while falling is amazing. In my playtime I got to finally make a character that I got to look however I wanted in this world. I didn't level up this character from level 1, as I hated low leveling in Classic-Wrath, and I wanted to get straight into the story. I did also remake a Blood Elf Paladin but I only got him to 60 before I decided that I didn't want to level up anymore and I wasn't really into remaking a toon that I lost. Getting to Draenor was like going through the portal again in the WarCraft 2 expansion, Beyond the Dark Portal. Not seeing it in it's science-fantasy broken world, but seeing it fresh and green and full of primitive life. I felt it was a hearken to Conan and the savage fantasy worlds. For the most part I enjoyed it. The Garrison felt only halfway done. I felt that they could have expanded the alt system by allowing you to share the Garrison on each realm, as they had made the upkeep super tedious for each character. They could have also done missions as standard WarCraft RTS story missions where you send a team into a map for certain accomplishments. The current way is just sending your recruits on a percent chance auto complete missions.

I would keep that option, but the reward is only the standard. Taking personal control of the missions would allow one to find extras as well as making those recruited characters more than simple paper dolls.  It would also break the monotony of the game type, adding more depth rather than taking away anything. Sea missions would have been amazingly fun!

I do very much dislike the Talent system. The 3 pillars are not organized in any way shape or form. There is no, attack, defense, or support options, they're just things that were previously given in the past and then placed into a strange array of choices. Even the weapons that they added in Legion, only gave us back things that we already had in the guise of "weapon progression" It was not fun to grind out and it was not a fun part of the game. it could have been done automatically for how well it was implemented.

I did enjoy the story in both Warlords and Legion, though I only played it on my Druid, and when I unlocked the Void Elf race, I made a hunter because I played a Survival Hunter in Classic and I had always wanted a melee hunter character. I didn't play my Druid much anymore in Battle. I got halfway through the story before I gave up and went through it on my Blood Elf Paladin, then to get the other side of the story I completed the Battle story I with my Void Elf Hunter. I leveled up through player versus player (PvP), and did the Mists of Pandaria story on my hunter, which, after completing I'm really sorry that I missed that Expansion. It is very beautiful.

I did not enjoy the Battle story. It seemed too rushed and holds very little depth. I have enjoyed the PvP. While I was unlocking the Vulpera, a small fox like race, I was thinking of creating a monk for the first time. While I was grinding out the reputation I made an Undead monk and decided to go through the Forsaken storyline for the first time. I realized how much I missed out. In WarCraft 3, they were humans that had been unwillingly raised into the state of undeath. Not really my favorite story, but they had broken free to decide their own fate. I had never played one and they finally got the golden 3 of a class. I went for it and I really regret not making one before. It reminded me of why I like this game. I had preconceived notions of all the other classes. Not knowing what to expect with this class made me appreciate the mechanics a lot more, I believe.

So for the rest of the game I decided to go back and complete everything I missed on my monk, The Draenor and Legion horde story, first. After putting time into those with my Druid, doing it again on my monk was not something that i wanted to do since it was the same thing. In Legion, I got my druid the "hidden weapon" skins, I have no interest in doing that with my monk, as I don' t like the skins for the WindWalker specialization. I have no interest in dungeons or anything else in Battle, except for the PvP, and that is extremely fun. I do not like the gear level making the difference between a win and a loss, and it is easier to gain gear levels in the Player versus Environment side of the game.

 Though I might be under geared, I think I got the hang of it. The chat environment is pretty bad in World of Warcraft, toxic and demeaning, though I do my best to be encouraging during a match. Most people don't dedicate time to this stuff and have quite a lot of other things to do. I've had a history with the game so I could dive right in and just putz around without a care to complete anything or race to have something done. I don't have an attachment to anything, just a chance to explore and check out the evolution of the game.

I've gone through some of the old stories in some zones to make connections with some of the stuff going on in Battle/Legion/Warlords, and I'm not sure I would have continued in the direction that they went. Warlords was huge and streamlined, but Legion and Battle seemed to be rushed. And not in a "you played to fast" rush through, but everything is go go go go go go, emergency, emergency, emergency and you're the only person that can stop it. Here is where I would have made the case for alternate toons affecting the same world as your main character. There is so much to do that one character cannot handle it all, and if we're going to be gaining in power levels to destroy old gods, then we're going to run into the Raymond Feist dilemma of once you've defeated everything the only one left to defeat is Chaos itself.

Not to rag on the RiftWar Saga, I just would like a different direction for the World of WarCraft. Even if we keep the idea that there is one main hero, the ability to do other things and affect the same state of the world with other toons allows for more interaction with the world. I thought that is what world quests were supposed to simulate, but having to redo parts of the game on other characters can be too much for those not dedicated to the game. It would allow me to enjoy more of the story instead of the same over and over again.

My only complaints are the repetative nature of the games leveling mechanics/story and the gear level monstrosity that once you fall behind in the game you can never truly catch up, and in PvP that's an ender for anyone new wanting to enjoy the game and try to get better at it, until, like the highlander, there will only be one. 

The Roman Tick

“The most worthless of mankind are not afraid to condemn in others the same disorders which they allow in themselves; and can readily discover some nice difference in age, character, or station, to justify the partial distinction.”
― Edward Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire

***

ro·man·tic
/rōˈman(t)ik/

2.  of, characterized by, or suggestive of an idealized view of reality


***

I find as I read more and more of history and religion, most notably the Abrahamic religions, I find it incredibly disturbing how every little road that describes the downfall of mankind leads me back to Rome. I've been researching my ancestry and following a path of spirituality that has been no less than incredible. I've encountered the worst of mankind in various forms, have turned away from the constructions that I grew up with, and have made leaps and strides towards the ultimate goal of self realization in one lifetime. I've been gratefully and wonderfully blessed, though that doesn't mean that I've gone through the briars unscathed, it simply means that I've made it through the other side.

When I was younger, I had the childish ideal that everyone had the same opportunities as I did, the same deep need to search for life's great treasures. But as I grew older I slowly, very very slowly, came to realize that most people don't like to dig in the muck of the human soul to discover the treasures that lay within. The common man would rather themselves be comfortable, though I've never seen anyone truly comfortable that I would call common. I would say that I was very lucky that I was placed into the family that I had been, not for the religiocity that governs them, but underneath all of that, the place and time and seed that did engender me and give me birth allowed me to endure the wickedness of men without giving into them.

My mother would always tell me that god would only give us that which he created us to carry, never more. I have to give props to the intelligence behind the universe, because he gets the precise amount every time, right to what we believe our limits to be, then shows us how we can surpass them because we are his children. All of us.

In the idealized world of our society, we have this thing called the American Dream. The childish notion that getting a family, a home, and a white picket fence will satisfy all our inner and outer needs. I used to describe myself as "romantic" when searching for a partner, mostly because of the fantasy of having the perfect partner created for me like Eve was for Adam. It was what I was told growing up, and while that ideal saved me from diving into relationships and making some terrible terrible mistakes with women of questionable purity, when I finally gave up on that notion and tried to build my own El Dorado one brick at a time I never came across a person who was willing to start again, or discard notions of the past to try to build something worthwhile. That is why I think that much of the mindset of our day and age is the Roman Tick, blood sucking and soul sucking that leaves people empty of life and vitality.

The Roman Tick has devastated our society, our world. It is the monster that has no real name or form, as the Romans have stolen every spiritual confluence and declared it to be their own. Their attempt to be the spiritual center of mankind has failed, grotesquely, and their destroying of the link between science and spirituality a thing that deserves the greatest of punishments. 

The Christ says this in his teachings, "Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell." Since I am a believer that the spirit in man discards the body for a new one at the time of each birth (not in the womb as false pro-lifers would proclaim), and I also understand that the tongue is sharper than any sword and can cut the spirit of man in twain, I am going to do my best to destroy the souls of those that have negatively affected this world and let their bodies and minds suffer in this realm until the time of their death. Since that is what most people fear, is death, is it not? Even though it happens to all creatures in this universe, an unequivocal law of nature.

What it seems that some people don't understand is that there are little deaths, deaths of thoughts and beliefs and feelings, that come before the big death. Where I am being attacked today is that some think that I'm trying to spread the big death to people. I don't care about that. No one can escape it and the longer that those that fear the inevitable live the greater that fear becomes. I will kill and exterminate the soul of bigotry, hatred, greed, and all those other nasty little demons, whether I have to use religious language, war language, philosophical or scientific language, I will get my point across and I will challenge all those things that drag a man's soul to the depths of his own hell.

If it leaves somebody an empty shell so be it. The people that spread those lies and deceits have done worse to their fellow man, destroying families, taking away children, ruining reputations, health and wellness. The law of Karma states that so ye reap so ye sow, and the reapers are here. They keep appearing in our mythologies, in our dreams and thoughts. The current Virus pandemic is Pestilence, Nature's reaper. We were unprepared for it, even though we had seen unaccounted for wealth and "prosperity" in our time, those that held that wealth and proclaimed that prosperity did so not for the benefit of man, but for selfish gains. We all are paying the consequences for it.

I'm not going to proclaim myself anything other than what I am. I am not a prophet, I only repeat what past prophets have said, and the prophets are those that study history and nature to warn us of upcoming trials and tribulations. Nothing that I could say would be more accurate than the words that we've already been given. I am a warrior and a scholar, plain and simple. I have picked up the mantle of my Great-Grandfather, the mantle of mentoring and ministering to the spirits of those individuals who seek. I will not proselytize, I will not be the figure head of anything.

I will be that voice crying out in the wilderness alone, and I will fight this Roman Tick, alone. Every man must go into the darkness to see his own light or be forever forsaken by it. The play of light and darkness are ours, our birthright as living and conscious beings in this world. Do not give in to romanticism or the unchallenged beliefs in others. Never have I ever said to never question me. Never have I said that what I say is absolute truth, but the truth of my experiences is plain to see in the light of day.

I will not hide from the hatred of small beings who pretend to be men. To do so would make me an unqualified and inexcusable traitor to myself, and that self is what I have spent so much time to find under all the trials and tribulations in this life. So let me light myself on fire and let the world watch me burn within the flames of self knowledge. I fear no man nor anything man-made, for it will all fall with Time, the great destroyer of all things. It is time the Roman Tick be eliminated and we be free from the plague it has spread in the spirit of man.

Let Rome fall into dust, and those that propagated her iniquity fall with her.

Divine Love

I know I have a few readers, one of them being a rat who thinks himself doing journalism on me though it's become clear that he has an unhealthy obsession, I wish to address everyone, including that small and plagued thing.

I find it incredibly interesting that one person has spent so much time and energy to try to undo me and has not succeeded in any aspect. I've done my best to ignore it, to try and get on with my life, but just like any bully or deranged person who seeks to take down his betters, he needs to be put down like a rabid animal.

Luckily, the threats against my person have ceased and the vast majority of people I come across see through the idiocy. I don't think I need to sit here and defend my actions with vain words, you can all simply compare them side by side with those that I have stood against. Which is why I wrote the piece from jail, Pietas. Claiming that my seeking and following higher ideals as mental illness, or trying to undermine me at every step has only made me better, stronger, and more aware. For that I love my enemies. I wish to express my condolences to them, for karma is a real and true thing, and what you reap you shall sow.

Now, the Rat would say that is a threat and try to use that further in his case against my mental well-being. I'm not threatening anyone. I don't know how many times that I have to say this, but after I did my duty, against everything that I knew within me in order to survive a corrupted and wicked group of people, I swore an oath to the Supreme Lord of the Universe that I would never seek to do violence against another person. Though many might disagree with my hard and straight language, it is better than the language that we see in our modern media and what others do in order to curb public perception of who they are and what they are truly doing. It's business/political to describe one thing as another in order to gain votes or dollars.

If you're really curious, here is an ebook copy of the Bahgavad Gita, a conversation between a warrior and god on what duty is. Just like Krishna uses the language of war to describe spiritual alignment and responsibility, I will use that language as well. The zen masters and Taoists state that there is no enemy outside of yourself, the only enemy lay within. Which makes all the religious critics all the more hilarious because they cannot see that is not just a battle for some distant and mythological messiah, that is our own responsibility to ourselves. No other can heal our soul but ourselves. No other can fight that battle but ourselves.

Which makes the Rat's religious degree from Florida even more embarrassing. That the rat cannot take responsibility for his own words or actions and has to use hide behind his wife's law degree and her connections to corporations like Monsanto and Raytheon is even more appalling. The scriptures do say that there will be many false prophets and many who will lead men astray. For much of my life I believed it to be true, but something to be experienced in a distant time or history. Never did I think I would be face to face or bear witness to the extreme depravity of mankind, so concentrated in one individual. I have taken responsibility for my own actions and words, for they are mine, even if they are made in error. I know what I have done and I what I have done is seek to balance the scales and fix whatever wrongs that I have done.

I read the Rat's ongoing blog about me, which is the main piece of the Montana state prosecutions beef with me. I've not been wrong in what I've tried to tell people about the Oligarchs, which in fact during this extreme pandemic, the Missoula City Council still decided to give 17 million dollars in tax money away to Wisconsonite Millionaire Nick Chicota while the public is focused on the matter of surviving and taking care of themselves. And now the Mayor also has sole financial say. Fascism rears its ugly head when desperate times take place.

Didn't I compare the use of broken tools used in social government situations to giving a broken tool to a warrior in battle? Didn't I say that it is worse because people don't die right away, they worse than die, they suffer; people lose their homes, their ability to feed themselves, they get desperate and turn to crime... So what did the council do? They did exactly that. Putting the chains of slavery onto their citizens instead of using that money that is the citizens to reinforce the health and welfare of the community. When the Dollar collapses and they cannot pay for their high rise condos and whatever toys they feel they want, they'll have nothing. The citizens of Missoula, of Montana even, are now seeing the truth of things. And since Karma is the refuge of the wise, we all need to just hold them accountable for their actions and let nature take it's course with them.

That is why I wish no death upon them. People have the ability to learn, and unfortunately, terrible situations and life experiences are the only way that those wicked spirits that inhabit those meat suits will be able to learn anything. I feel sorry for people like the Rat and those that have never really been challenged in this life. They don't know what they're capable of, no one does. They just take from others and live off the spoils. They've never actually earned a position in life so they have to steal and undermine those that have to make themselves feel better.

Small and pitiful people. I struggle every day to find compassion for them. How can we have compassion for those that willfully and purposefully harm others? The poet Rumi says this, "Just as the clay needs to be hardened in fire, so does love need to be perfected in pain." 

My Great-Grandfather would remind me of what the Christ says, "You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect."

I will further say that I have realized that we don't love our enemies because we want them to be like us. They already are if they are fellow creations of this Universe. We love them because they reveal the spirit within us, they show us what is noble and worthy to fight against. And since this is not a physical battle, this is a battle against the principalities and powers which govern this world, the only true weapon is the sword of the spirit which cuts sharper and deeper than any sword. It is the Sword of Truth, and if I dare say so, the armor of God has protected me during every encounter that I've ever had, regardless of how much damage I've sustained. And I've sustained a heroic amount. But like one of my Childhood heroes, Sun Wukong the Handsome Monkey King, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, every bit of damage only makes me stronger and wiser.

To the rat and all my detractors, I thank you. I wish you everything in this life that you deserve and that you reap the fruits of your sowing in this life so that you have a clean soul for your next. Until you do, may you live forever.

Peace and Love,

Brandon W. Bryant
The Dragon of Hell's Gate

Pietas - A Jail Note

The Modern Definition of Piety:

pi·e·ty

/ˈpīədē/

Learn to pronounce

noun

noun: piety

1. the quality of being religious or reverent.

   "acts of piety and charity"
2. a belief or point of view that is accepted with unthinking conventional reverence.

   plural noun: pieties

   "the accepted pieties of our time"

early 16th century (in the sense ‘devotion to religious observances’): from Old French piete, from Latin pietas ‘dutifulness’, from pius.


***
In the days of Ancient Rome, those that took up the mantle of “knight” were expected to hold in their hearts and act with “pietas.” In modern day society it is a term more associated with the common religion as piety, and deemed more mystical than true. Some would have it discussed in a philosophical sense, though most today would rather forget it exists entirely in the pursuit of their own desires.

For me, it comes as naturally as breathing, though at times I feel as if drowning might be easier. My Great-Grandfather, my Grandpa, and my mother instilled in me the courage and fortitude to never discard it when engaging the Abyss of the human soul. I grew up with tales of Arthur Pendragon and his Companions of the Round Table, how they represented “Pietas” and all the other grand qualities of heroes, it was my Grandpa Lanny who lived it.

To me, he was and still is, as kingly as Arthur ever was, and his Round Table was the circle of the Wrestling mat. Lanny was the coach of the Knights of the Hell’s Gate, his companions, his wrestlers, and through his dedication, discipline, compassion, and love he led them to their Legendary State Championship, paving the way and planting the seeds of victory everywhere he went. He has reared many great men, and though I never was a State Champion, I would count myself among those that strive to match his pietas in all that I have done.

He taught me that life was exactly like the struggle on the mat. The philosophies of action and wisdom mix together and become inseparable, where pride can lead one to fall from great heights but through discipline one can rise again without fault or blame to overcome any challenge. For much of my own life I could not put it into words well enough to explain to those outside the circle. The Arena is and always be the place I feel most alive, and now, having traveled along the path to self-discovery, through greater despair and heartaches I have ever read or heard told, the seeds in my heart have matured enough to understand and bear the fruit of wisdom. I write this from jail, a political prisoner in my own community, to remind myself and others what the fight and struggle are really about.

Some might say this is a fight for our lives, but it isn’t. It is a fight for life itself. On the mat the only death is the end of the match, heralded by the whistle of the referee. In the world it is for order and justice and all the ordinary and simple things, the little things we have been deprived of for too long. The things that any decent and healthy society should secure, that the truth of America never has. The guarantee of food, a safe place to rest, roads that any person may travel with security from thriving town to city and to country, into the wilderness and back again. Homes of wealthy folk where some grace of living may grow and mature, free from greed and desire, giving scope to any who wish to hone their craft and those who simply seek to learn. Where anyone can read a book on any philosophy, faith, creed, or science and have a healthy discussion of the thoughts and emotions they provoke. Where lovers can grow old together, watching their children and their children’s children thrive to learn the gentler arts of living. A place where Truth, Justice, and understanding replace violence, intrigue and petty tribal jealousy. That’s my dream for Montana. That is what we are fighting for.

Martin Luther King Jr. spoke of a similar dream while he yet lived. I get to dreaming of a world where men walk simply without deceit or subterfuge. A kindlier world than the one we know right now, where the strong defend the weak instead of the greedy and to have some manners is not thought to be beneath a warrior’s dignity.

Truth, Justice, Mercy - one cannot impose these things - they must grow out of a man’s striving for himself. We wonder why evil and wickedness exists in the world. Those that follow the Church of the Dying God say that the world is evil because of one Great Sin. I grew up in that religion but can no longer prescribe to it’s remedies. Though we could take the finest sieve and sift the entire universe through it, no molecule of love could ever be found. For no man who has not known despair knows himself, and no man who does not know himself can find the truth; The rhythm of the universe and the Love that sustains it. Whether it is on the mat or the battlefield or in everyday life we must be ready to enter Hell’s Gate and confront all that which lay on the other side. As Dante says in his Divine Comedy’s Inferno, “All hope abandons, ye who enter here.” This is how courage is born.

There is no courage without fear. The Hero of Time taught me that. The bravest is often the most frightened, and if we are afraid of something that means we MUST confront it directly. In that respect, solitude is often fear’s companion. To be afraid is to be alone, but it is only then a person attains that self-discovery. Pain defines and exacts the price of wisdom, and the price is worth paying because it must be paid. The Sufi poet, Rumi says this, “just as clay needs to go through intense heat to become strong, Love can only be perfected in pain.” Through courage one earns honor. In all of life, in my heart, mind, body, and soul, courage is the principle thing.

Shakespeare says that “all the world's a stage.” On earth, every man plays a part and that part is appointed to him by the powers that be before he is even born. In one incarnation a slave, in another a king, in yet others a common soldier, a priest, a merchant, even a politician. In each part, as he plays it out in life for ill or well, he learns something he needs to know until all good and evil have been experienced and the soul can distinguish for itself between the two and so grows towards the perfection that is man’s final goal. A king is not greater than a slave, for both are men. In fact, a king’s role is more difficult, for what a great man does other’s will follow. It is of equal importance that they should act their part so that the play mirrors Truth.

This spirit needs to be awoken, set to a standard, create a pattern that even the dullest can comprehend and strive to achieve. Truth is always simple enough so that a child can understand it. A promise is a promise. Once given it must be kept, lived by, or be forfeit of honor and to the noble dishonor is worse than death.

The Old Faith of the Druids holds that once a vow is made it cannot be unmade without damage to the soul. In this Greater Cosmos we are the Individual Cosmos and in the triad sayings of the Bards, Oviates, and Druids there are three things that no man can alter; The stars in their course, the flowing of the tides, and the pattern that unrolls from the given word.

By the things taught to me, that I’ve learned through my own experience I live in service, given without grudging and without hope of rewards, through the quality of my heart and the respect earned by it. We must honor our own gods and give respect to other men’s. We must seek truth and speak it always, even to our own harm and hurt. We must be worthy of trust and trust one another. I would have us use our strength to protect those that cannot protect themselves; the old, the weak, the infirm, the widows, and the fatherless. Even those that we hate so long as it treads the path of right action. We will have the manners of Kings, equal to any in any land, and so above those things that leaden a man’s spirit: anger, desire, and greed.

To be anything less would shame my family legacy.

***

Some that I have spoken to about these things tell me that the depth is intimidating and others have viewed them as only fantasy. One going so far to tell me, “it sounds like you’re just trying to convince yourself.” In my youth, these left me to despair and loneliness, unable to share my soul with another. They have stayed where they are, rooted in place and unable to take the leap in faith that lets one start the journey of a thousand miles with that single step. Faith is not trusting the unknowable or the unseen, faith is understanding the machine of the macroverse and knowing the intelligence behind it is in complete and total control. Though it is not responsible for any of man’s actions.

Where the path of right action will always be Grandpa Lanny’s, the path of wisdom was the way of my Great-Grandfather William Caswell Bryant tread. In my heart of hearts he will always be the greatest man I have ever known, and if I can only be a reflection of his teachings of gentleness and mercy then I know I could light up the whole of creation for a single instance of this one life. He is and always will be my Buddha, my Krishna, my Merlin, and my Captain Jean Luc Picard. It is my hope that right here I can plant the seeds he gave me within others, so that even if his name is forgotten, then the Love he carried will not be.

He was a born enlightened sage, ministering to creation as he walked home from school and church. He once told me that he was pretty sure many of the cows that were pastured in Texas reached the abode of the Supreme Lord, having told them about his Christ the moment he became aware of the Lord’s love himself. “The Holy Cows of Texas!” He would say with a laugh. Brahma’s sign of Grace, I would say today.

At fourteen, he started to lead his Church choir, and through his wanderings west to California and north to Montana, he started 89 churches in his Lord’s name, never taking more than was necessary to live simply. One for every year of his wonderful life. His goal had been one hundred, and I’m sure that if we counted those congregations that grew out of his own works, we’d find maybe ten times that number. He never claimed the works of others as his own, so I’ll honor that.

I was born in Missoula, Montana in Community Hospital. After a series of tragedies my mother experienced, she moved to California to be with my Great-Grandparents for help in raising me while she sought a way to better our lives. My earliest memory is of us sitting on a picnic table in his backyard, a hill, and a toy truck with me on his knee watching the California Sunset. We were moving, I believe, for my toy was a purple U-Haul. His eyes were welling with tears as he told me, “Proof of the Lord’s Love lay with all things beautiful.” He was a poet, and it is these moments that I remember him the most, for it was often that his spirit was moved while I was with him and his wisdom shone brighter than if a thousand suns rose in the sky at dawn.

My Lord of Lord’s, how I miss him.

When we moved back to Montana, my mother decided that she was going to take up the familial legacy of teaching. It is here, truly, that my own initiation began and the paths of my grandfathers converged into me, to be shaped and molded by my mother, beaten into me by my uncle, and tested against the Darkness of the World. Three great peoples, and their many branches, producing me, the fruit of their legacy.

***

I remember much of those early years thanks to my mother teaching me simply how to learn. She wired my grey-matter sponge to love it, seek it, devour it, understand and regurgitate it in my own words and expressions. Coupled with the wisdom, emotion, and grace of my Great-Grandfather, the discipline and determination of my Grandpa, I couldn’t have asked for a better childhood. The one glaring gap, like a missing tooth, was a solid father-figure. Because of that I also grew wilder than most. Not rebellious, but wild, like a bear, wandering on my own merit in nature’s grace. While I did wonder about my own father on earth, I was told that, “My Father, who art in Heaven” loved me more than I could ever know and that I was here because he willed it. In this aspect, I was completely self-created, for in my own heart and imagination I clung to him in my loneliness and it is that same heart that the ideals I live by were shaped.

What is more powerful than a young boy’s need to prove himself worthy of a Father crafted in his own heart and mind?

***

My mother, born in 1961 in Garden Grove, California to Lanny and Ann Bryant, given the unique combination of their names: LanAnn. She was the eldest of five, born to young boomer parents, and the strongest woman I’ve ever met. Her heart is large enough to hold the weights of oceans and her mind bright enough to see the turnings of the stars. Though she has been given a few rough turns down unknown roads, her faith has been her guide and her wisdom to me in my own difficulties has always been simply, “just do the right thing.” She is a Priestess of Solitude, courageous beyond measure, and a balm of comfort in my own pain. Whatever I could say would never do her justice. She has the dignity of Mother Mary, herself, and if there is another woman as selfless as her I have not yet encountered that being. She deserves every blessing that her Lord could bestow, and she would only ask for love. The tragedies she has endured has only made her more flexible and stronger than Damascus steel, and sharper than any sword, and the only thing she would cut through are the lies and illusions of the world. Her two daughters are no less magnificent. If I, myself, are the lesser of her three children, it is only because of my wild nature. My sisters exhibit all the qualities nature gave my moth, in their own unique way more refined, like one refines the scent of a flower in a perfume or the way one can hone a knife to cut clean with a sharp edge. Evolution at play, I would say, and empowerment at work.

***

If I could write their stories, I would, but I can only write of their influence on my own. I start this piece with my family because you should know where I come from; a stone's throw from Eden. Where I have gone has taken me beyond Hell’s Gate, into the heart of the Abyss, my soul raked across the coals of oblivion until only a fragment of a fragment remained. The loss of my perceived self so great that I did everything I could to escape existence as a fox caught in a hunter’s trap gnaws its own foot off, and yet by grace I'm still here, if not whole, ready to grow and live again. This isn’t an instructions manual or even a biography. It is an intimate examination of my own soul so that I can see into me and maybe recover that hope that abandons us in our own hellscape.

My path has been high, indeed, and as my favorite author says, “Upon the heights the paths are paved with Daggers.”

Iaijutsu

https://www.wikiwand.com/en/Iaijutsu

The House Major of Candyland: The plagued Rat Who Believed itself to be a Rhino

I'll be quick and dirty with this one because Rynearson is a Government slut who likes to take that fat military idustrial cock then watch as his wife is fucked by better men. He's the Rat that pretends to be a Rhino. The House Major of Candyland.

Rick Rynearson continues to paint targets on my back. He's been stalking me and harassing me ever since I began blowing the whistle on America’s disastrous drone program. He’s stalked me online and done everything he can to ruin my reputation, no matter what I’m doing, always trying to distract the American people away from my statements; about the disastrous wars we shouldn’t be engaged with anymore; wars that cause horror many of us cannot un-see, and cannot condone.

Even now in my home town, Rick Rynearson is fear-mongering individuals in my community, alleging that I’m threatening physical violence upon them. Ludicrous.

So who is this Rick Rynearson, and why does he save such a hard-on for me?

He dispatched several USMC veterans, Via a website called "This Aint Hell" all of whom had been propagandized to his views to such a degree that they sought my harm; a fellow brother-in-arms. The only reason they relented was, they said, “out of respect for my grandfather.”

So here we have a situation where local politics is reaching such a boiling point, with our citizens committing suicide all around us, with all of our local businesses closing down, with one of the highest income disparities in the country, where emotions are very high, and we’re once again distracting attention AWAY from the pressing issues of extreme suffering in our community.

And because emotions are high, certain elements of identity politics are rearing their ugly head again. And right now that’s manifesting with certain elected officials in my town feeling threatened because this online bully continues to blow my statements completely out of proportion and take them completely out of context. He’s attempting to again rob me of the quality of my words, but this time it involves my very own community, which I cherish more than my own life. That’s why I swore an oath to the Constitution to defend my community from all threats, both foreign and domestic.

I’m being smeared as threatening a public official with whom I disagree Politically. I was recently featured on our local media station (KECI, Missoula) for voicing my opposition to the misuse and abuse of Montana’s Tax Increment Financing statute, which is causing measurable harm to many people and nobody wants to talk about it. And now that people like ME are talking about it, they’re trying to silence the issue once again.

I’ve been notified of a potential restraining order that would bar me from attending City Council meetings in my town – a town I was born in, where many activists have been voicing vociferous opposition to Neo-liberal policies that disadvantage Montana taxpayers to extreme and absurd degrees.

This translates into a truth-teller being potentially robbed of his 1st Amendment rights for honestly voicing the frustration and despair felt by people all around me the community over; people our elected officials CLAIM to represent. Things are really dark in Missoula and nobody is talking about it. And okay, I admit it. I've had a mental breakdown. I blew the whistle and it seemed like nothing happened; I was ousted from my church; I was excommunicated from  my family; I lost my job; I lost my son; I lost my health. Even my housing. Of COURSE I've lost my mind!

But my heart is in the right place.

I sincerely hope the members of my community do not seriously believe I mean them physical harm. Let me spell it out: I mean no physical violence to anyone; an oath I swore after I left that infernal drone program. I’m a disabled veteran for God’s sake. I’m tired of unnecessary fighting with people just as under-served by the status quo as I am. That’s why I became a whistle-blower. Hello?

Furthermore, I sincerely hope the members of my community take note of this Rick Rynearson character - who started a GoFundMe to pay for his legal fees that accrue from all of the slander suits he dodges on a constant basis due to his highly inflammatory nature, defaming the character of people who tell the truth about war. He's guilty of what he accuses me of; he has a history of harassing public officials in his town. This is the pot calling the kettle black.

For some reason, Rick Rynearson can't seem to find anything better to do with his days but demonize me as the reason for all the problems in our world. It’s a really sad state of affairs, and I trust the highly-literate Missoulians all around me can see right through this blatant tactic to again disarm the will of the popular majority. Missoula taxpayers are losing out big time. Our 500 homeless school children are losing out big time. And our suicide statistics are not getting better.

Let’s focus on the issues, please. Reducing this to personality seems pretty infantile at this point.

Please quit diverting the issues into ad hominem attacks on my personality, and competing in the victim-Olympics of the little-boy-who-cried wolf.

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The above statements represent those made by Brandon W. Bryant.
Best regards.
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