Walking Into 2024

 

Happy Solstice

 

Grateful, Yet Still Pissed as Hell

 

These quaint little “be thankful for what you have” memes bother me.

I can’t help but think they are planted by our corporate billionaire masters, who want us to feel guilty for believing we deserve better and demanding our fair share… 

It’s like a thinly veiled threat: 

“Be happy with what we allow you to have. 

You COULD be cold, hungry, and living on the street. 

And we can make that happen…”

You Can't Lose What You Never Had

Lately, I've started to move in more politically-oriented circles on Instagram.  I know...it was just a matter of time, wasn't it? 

But it's just not possible to remain aloof, disconnected and silent when it comes to the disintegration of our public discourse and the existential threats to our form of government.  

(Notwithstanding the resultant migraines and ulcers, from even touching a toe into that cesspool again...)

Yesterday, I came across this little gem, and it really spoke to me:

 

And almost as if the Universe was handing me a meatier argument on the subject, I came across a post that led me to this:

This is a screen shot from the August NPR interview with evangelical leader Russel Moore, on his book Losing Our Religion: An Altar Call For Evangelical America.  You can find the entire article here:

Russell Moore on 'an altar call' for Evangelical America

 I've often said that I was an evangelical Christian for a short time in my young life (maybe five years, if that.)  And while I have personally moved beyond (FAR beyond) that phase of my spiritual walk, I know and respect that there are sincere followers of the teachings of Jesus Christ.  

And I also know that 90% of the Evangelical Christian Right are NOT that.  

They have no more connection to Christianity than the terrorists who blew up the twin towers had to Islam.

They are folks with an agenda of hatred, violence and domination who use religion to conscript hordes of hapless adherents.  

NO different at all from Muslim extremists.  

THAT is who we have backing the Christian right, the GOP, and its evil, muddled puppet of a leader.

That, and a bottomless treasure chest of funds, kept brimming full by forces diligently working for the cataclysmic failure of the Great Experiment.  

How did we get here?

And how do we get out?

A Beautiful Soul Journeys On

 

Rest in power, Rosalynn Carter. ❤️🕊🕊

By All Means…

 

Nor has a book killed 70 people at an outdoor concert.

Nor dozens…hundreds…of students in American schools. 

Nor groups of people browsing through Walmart, or a shopping mall.

Nor spectators at a July Fourth parade.

Nor any unsuspecting folks, innocently going about their lives…

…lives that are suddenly, violently snatched away.

But, yeah.

Let’s ban books.

She Rests in Power

 

 

 

May she forever be our guiding spirit.

Just Fulfilling Scripture

 

 

Years ago, I was a "born again" Christian.

One of the most popular obsessions of the bible-believers back then was the book of Revelation and predictions about the return of Jesus.

Even though their own holy book told them "No one knows when that day or hour will come. Even the angels in heaven and the Son don't know. Only the Father knows..." (Matthew 24:36)...

They were determined to dig and delve and interpret and come up with the answer.

One of the concepts they "interpreted" out of Revelation (because, as it happens, it isn't even mentioned in Revelation) is the appearance of "anti-Christ." There were all manner of tales and warnings about "the anti-Christ..."--this liar and false prophet, ally of Satan, who would rise up and believers would follow him...ostensibly because he would be so Christ-like that Christians would be fooled into thinking he was Christ.

Or, at least, that's what I thought.

And I couldn't figure out how these pious, god-fearing, holy(-er than thou, as it turns out) folks who sat next to me at services could possibly be fooled into thinking some evil-doer was actually God...or God-like.

Well.

Now we know, don't we?

Because all this anti-Christ had to do was appeal to their basest natures...

Give his seal of approval to hatred, lies, greed, perversion, oppression, racism...name your sin... 

And suddenly, he was God!

Who knew???!? 

  

Happy Halloween

 

 

Unfathomable

 

…and that the majority of GOP lawmakers were so willing to acquiesce, affirm and enable it, as long as it meant more power for them.

…AND that a majority of the evil-worshipping 40% identify themselves as “Christians.”

🙁☹️😫😠😡

Five years ago, I posted this at “Better Terms.” In fact, it was my LAST post at “Better Terms.” 

 

I think it ‘s indicative of the utter hopelessness that virtually stole my voice after the 2016 election.

We can NOT let this happen again.

 

 

Selective Hearing

 

It took more than half my nearly-five-decade marriage for me to be smacked in the face with this reality.  For some reason, I had it in my head for SO MANY years that ours was an extraordinary partnership that defied the status quo.

As I finally, painfully figured out...not so much.

My husband can quote the most minute, random statistics from any sport in which he is interested: football, basketball, and baseball, primarily.

But he cannot for the life of him remember what I told him about making the bed or where to put dishes away--even though he uses these things every day and should know from simple observation how they go,.

I used to think he aggressively "forgot" or "didn't listen" simply because the information came from me.  It used to make me crazy.

Actually, not much has changed on that front.  I still think he doesn't hear me on purpose.

I just don't let it make me as crazy as it used to.  This is something to which you apply the maxim: "You can't change the behavior of others, you can only change how you react to it." 

And, let's face it, I used to really take his selective deafness personally.  Like, I must be a remarkably horrible harpy if my husband actively practices to "not hear" me.  When I see memes like this posted by perfect strangers, I get it. It's not me, it's just...the species.  

Too, by this stage of life, you just don't want to waste time and energy being upset about things you cannot change.  

It is what it is.

Sigh! 

We Miss You, Jon Stewart

This man is so smart, so informed, so empathetic, so spot-on when he criticizes...

How did he get to be a "comedian?"

For my money, he's the 21st-century Mark Twain.

And I would SO love  for him to be somewhere we could hear/see him on a regular basis. 

My Hero Celebrates His Birthday Today

 Happy 99th Birthday, President Carter!

Cheato Fatigue

 

Cheato Jesus is in a lot of big legal trouble.  However, true to his evil-parallel-universe dynamic, this only seems to enhance his appeal in the eyes of his devil-worshipping cult.  

But I wonder...how big actually IS the cult, at this point?

I have disengaged myself from almost all social media, but I realize the cacophonous die-hard MAGAt crowd is still out there.  But that is the point.  They ARE loud, obnoxious, and dedicated to the task of making themselves heard and seen.  But are their numbers actually there anymore?  AND are the folks on the other side of the political divide willing to sit back and be controlled by these loons forever?

Are the legions of remaining MAGAts large enough to carry him back to the White House in a fair and unobstructed election (if such a thing is possible in the US at this point)?  In 2016, it was not simply the 40% of true-believer MAGAts that swept 45 to victory.  It was a combination of that, plus independent voters who saw him as a possible refreshing change from "career politicians," plus Russian interference, plus a candidate advanced by the "other side" who was all too easy to beat to a pulp, plus a last-minute gaffe by an FBI director that all but sealed the fate of that opposing candidate.  And let us not forget the press.  Primarily and overwhelmingly the press.  Without whom  the Perfect Orange Storm might very well never have come into being. 

To my mind, the single most insurmountable advantage enjoyed by Cheato in 2016 was the American press's extreme obsession with all things Wankmaggot. Cheato Jesus played them like Itzhak Perlman on a Stradivarius.  He kept up a non-stop stream of vile, outrageous stunts and sound-bytes that the US press could not resist, thereby gaining for his campaign billions of dollars of free media coverage.  Of all the entities responsible for turning the Wangmaggot into the evil juggernaut he became in 2016, the press was far and away at the top of the list. 

That dynamic alone might well be what tips the scales--or not--for Cheato Jesus in 2024.

Does the press understand and own its culpability in putting 45 in the White House to begin with?  Will they make a concerted effort NOT to make the same mistake this time around?  Or will the idea of viewers' eyeballs and profit numbers win out over the stability of our democracy--AGAIN?  

The jury's out on that one. But I'm beginning to get a bit worried...especially since I came across this article in The Atlantic a couple of days ago: 

Trump Floats The Idea Of Executing Joint Chiefs Chairman Milley.

In which an earnest journalist warns that Americans are "distracted and dumb" when it comes to 45's continuing antics.  The writer suggests that we have become desensitized and fatigued by the horrific things Cheato says and stands for, which makes his capacity to incite violence even more potentially explosive than it could be.  The press should be watchful, on Trump all the time, and report every dangerous word that comes out of his mouth or social media account.

Really? To what end? What will it benefit for the press to follow 45 around like obedient puppy dogs again, this time around?  We KNOW the magnitude of the damage this can do, that it DID in 2016.  What demonstrable GOOD can come of it?  Will we change the minds/votes of die-hard MAGAts? Dream on. Will we hold 45 accountable for his lies? He was in the White House for years before for the press could even sidle up to using the word "lie" when reporting on the outrageous crap that issued forth from the 45th president's mouth and thumbs.  Will we somehow steer the hapless, sycophantic GOP away from their "dear leader" and back in the direction of a responsible, viable political party?  Seriously...they have boarded that train, and will ride it till it crashes.  Will it stop any outbursts of political violence spurred on by 45's continuing violent rhetoric?  I have just 2 words in response to that: January 6.

And let me add that the press's constant and repeated declarations that Cheato is not only the front-running GOP candidate, but stands a good chance of returning to the White House in 2025 is NOT filling me with hope that they learned one damned thing from 2016.

It may actually be a GOOD thing that Americans are suffering from Cheato Fatigue.  We know he hasn't gone away.  We know he's dangerous.  We wish to god he would just...disappear. (Maybe he could meet up with some Russian official and get a poison handshake or a radioactive Big Mac. From my monitor to god's ears...)  

But we also know that the best place--the only place, it appears--we can have any power over him is at the ballot box.  We proved that in 2020.  The fix was in for Trump to win, fabricate or steal 70 million votes in 2020. He was confident that number would put him easily over the top and secure him an additional 4 years to bleed America dry and possibly destroy it altogether. But he bargained without the 81 million + souls shocked into action by his horrendous dumpster fire of an administration, and determined to send him back to hell where he belonged. 

We buried him four years ago. We'll by god do it again.  Because we have to. And this time, we’ll see that he STAYS buried.

Just, for the love of god, keep him out of our faces until the actual time comes for us to grab the shovels.         

 

20 Twenty 20 Twenty 20 Twenty 20

This post is to commemorate the twentieth anniversary of the esteemed, dearly loved,cherished and sadly neglected  "Coming to Terms..."  

I am posting snippets from each one of my anniversary entries, all the way back to the beginning.

Two things surprised me:

1.) That I only completely spaced the anniversary once, in twenty years. Not too shoddy. 

and...

2.) That I have actually done this before (in 2015.)

2023-- 

2022--

2021--

For the NTH year in a row, I've completely spaced my blogoversary.  

On September 25, 2003, I sat at the keyboard and clacked out my very first post to the "new" AOL hometown construct-- "journal land."

 Infant, yea, almost embryonic social media.

2020--

It's all I can do just to get up in the morning and keep myself busy and distracted for 16 hours, so I can go back to bed and slip into blessed separation from all the crap that's going on in the world.

And I distracted myself SO much, I missed my own Blog-a-versary.

2019-- 

It has been such a weird, mostly silent year...  And a busy month.

So I almost forgot to note the anniversary of this, my own little space on the interweb.

16 years.

2018-

-As I've been ticking away at this post, it dawned on me that my "blog-a-versary" was 2 days ago.  

Fifteen years.  

Fifteen years I've carried on this love/hate relationship with the internet, its gifts and its poisons.

I really don't know how to comment on that, just now. 

2017--I posted a screen shot of my first blog entry in 2003.

  

2016-- 

...And speaking of still being able to write things that make sense...

I've been doing this for thirteen years, now.  

Not exactly going strong anymore, but still going.

2015--

(I posted exactly as I'm doing now...didn't realize I'd done it before.)  AND--
2015--
Twelve years.  I hardly know what to write.  But I'll think of something.

2014--

Eleven is the number of years I have maintained this blog.

As of September 25, 2014, Coming to Terms is eleven years old.

Wow.

2013--Missed the date entirely  (??!?!)

2012--

2011-- 

Since September 25, 2003.

From famine through feast and back again.

2010--

Since September 25th, 2003

Seven years is a pretty long time to do anything.

2009--

 Coming To Terms is coming up on its sixth birthday. Six years. Wow.

I love this little blog. I do. It means so much more to me than anyone could ever imagine. Even sans the readers and the community out of which it sprang (or into which it sprang…)

2008--

People and things that have endured at least five years of me:

My family (at least, most of them…)

My husband (31 years and counting…)

Eighteen pets… 

One or two friends…  Three homes…  Two jobs… 

…and “Coming to Terms…”

2007--

Happy Birthday,

“Coming to Terms...”

2006--

I just realized that I have passed the three-year mark on "Coming to Terms." And what a long strange trip it’s been…

Could it possibly be only three years that I have been chained to this love/hate relationship with the world of the blog?

Surely it is longer that three years…decades, perhaps…that I have known and cherished my "friends of the ether" out in journal land.

Mary. Christina. Cynthia. Robin. Robbie. Gigi. Jackie.  Meredith.  Oh my god...and I forgot Kat!   You've been with me from almost the beginning!  Augh!!!  My brain is indeed fried.   

2005--

Seven hundred thirty-one days ago (that’s two years, including a leap-day), "Coming to Terms…" sprang forth from my keyboard to the AOL ether-waves. Well, maybe "sprang" isn’t exactly the word. More like clotted, chugged, and coughed. In those early days, posting entries presented challenges—both electronic and verbal—that are now the stuff of distant memory. For the first few weeks, the words sputtered like rusty water from a long-disused faucet. It took hours to compose a satisfactory work, hit the "save" button, and then run smack into that "2500-word-limit" brick wall. Or hit the "save" button and have the words disappear into cyber-limbo, never to be seen again…

2004-- So, anyway, one year ago today, I opened the Pandora’s Box of AOL journals. LOL! I shouldn’t really call it that…nothing bad has come out. Except maybe the guilty feeling that I’m spending too much time here that could be better spent on something else; like housework, WORK work, exercising, reading Shakespeare…all the self-improvement crap you never do anyway. The wonderful things about having this journal far outweigh the bad. As I’ve said several times, the community aspect of journal land took me completely by surprise.

2003--

 So, this is my first "blog."  I wonder how this will affect my writing, knowing that someone might actually read it?  I've been writing journals since I was in high school.  Always with the secret hope that someone might read them, and get to know or care about my thoughts, confusions, and yearnings.

In closing,

let me paraphrase an observation I have made at least twice in the past:

Twenty years is a long time to do anything.

   

Boobie

 Yesterday, I went searching for some information in an old blog post. One of the posts that popped up in my search was a lament on how much I missed my dog.  The dog in question was Lucy the Wonder Dog, who left us in 2014 after brightening our lives for a little over 13 years.  I STILL miss her.

But this does not lessen our attachment to her successor, who joined our journey in 2017. 

Josie is 6 1/2 years old, now, but it seems she hasn’t stopped growing and changing…I hesitate to call it “maturing,” because she’s anything but mature.  She’s the polar opposite of Lucy.  Where Lucy was reserved, quiet, obedient and eager to please, Josie is…well, none of those things.  

It can be said that they each shared our home under completely opposite circumstances, and maybe that has caused the night and day differences between them.  Lucy was with us during a time of our lives when we were working a jillion hours and were not home enough to really support having a dog.  But she made do with half a dozen cats to keep her company, and with us lavishing attention on her when we were available.  

Josie, on the other hand, spent 2 1/2 years of COVID lockdown with us. Thirty months where we basically went nowhere and were home ALL THE TIME.  I guess we have to admit, this has “spoiled” her to the max.  

Josie was never a “normal” dog. It took at least a year for her to decide she liked us well enough to actually integrate into the family.  She’s never been food motivated, so she was very difficult to train.  Treats didn’t appeal to her, and the “Mom voice”  seemed to slip right over her head. There were times when I thought we had made a colossal mistake taking on a puppy at that time…I even briefly considered “re-homing” her.  But, no. We stuck it out.

And now we have this funny, bossy companion who announces any and all delivery vehicles that so much as drive by the property.  She fancies herself the Cat Police—any time a feline steps out of line, she is right in their face to give them what for.  

Plus, she has become hilariously vocal.  As the above video will attest.

When Josie first joined the family, the husband took to calling her “Jobu”—after some obscure  voo-doo god that was featured in the movie “Major League.”  “We’ll call her ‘Boobie’ for short!” he declared, to which I answered, “No. We will not have a dog named “Boobie.”

But, of course, that’s exactly what he calls her. And she answers to it. Luckily, she also answers to her actual name, so I have not had to stoop to calling her “Boobie.” 

But the fact is, she IS a boobie.  As depicted in the video above.

And she brightens our lives every day.

My Hero

 LOVE this man.  ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

A Bearable National Holiday

 

Labor Day.

One of the few national holidays that can't be wrapped in the fascist flag or provide an excuse for in-your-face representations of caustic nationalism.  And we won't be hearing empty exclamations of appreciation for laborers, or thanking them for...anything, really.

Labor Day is OUR holiday--the one for those hard-working, nose-to-the-grindstone folks who show up. We haven't let them plaster uniforms on us and send us off across the world to kill people for "freedom."  We just...work. Every hour of every day, to keep the country running.

Honestly, given the tenor of national politics lately, I'm surprised Labor Day hasn't been canceled.  Maybe the only reason it hasn't is that people have forgotten what we are actually supposed to be celebrating today (much like any other national holiday) and see it as the last frenetic weekend of the "lazy days of summer."

How about we pause for at least a few seconds to give a thought to the actual meaning of this holiday?

Let's hear it for the workers, people!

  

Pile On

 

 

Truth

 

Tyranny and Lies

 

One has to wonder how all these God-fearing “Christian” flag-wavers can so rabidly defend LYING as protected “free speech.”  

Ten commandments, anyone?

Or do you treat those the same as you do laws?

You follow the ones you like;

And the ones that require you to change your behavior in some way you DON’T like…

Well, that’s tyranny, and YOU don’t have to obey those

(Do you keep your arsenal of Constitutionally protected firearms so that you may some day go after your tyrannical God?)

 

Cheeto Messiah

 

Squashier and Squashier

Don't we all wonder...

 

...as the Wankmaggot stands indicted for a THIRD time...

THIS time for deadly crimes against the United States of America...

WHY IS HE STILL WALKING FREE?

Another July 4th

 

You would think I would be tired of publishing angry, disenchanted rants on “patriotic” national holidays. 

If things would seem to be getting better...or at least no worse...perhaps my angry heart could cool.

But "better" does not seem to be a word with any meaning when it comes to our national situation these days. And "bad" has a way of getting worse with the passage of time.

Last year, we had this: Celebrating Freedom in a World Gone Mad

Did we think it couldn't get worse?

Well, here are this year's highlights:

 

 

This, on top of our American way of "celebrating freedom."

Which would be...

Entitled "adults" exercising their freedom to act like spoiled children with vicious disregard for their neighbors, their neighbors' property, and the captive "pet" animals that they so zealously guard and promote the other 51 weeks of the year...by gleefully setting off random explosives in cramped, flammable quarters where any responsible 5-year-old would tell you that someone could be hurt or killed.

July Fourth.  Independence Day.  Increasingly, the best day of the year to see Americans at their worst.

King of the World

 

Disbelief and Anger Among Greek Shipwreck's Victims' Relatives as Millions Spent on Titan Rescue Effort

If anyone across the globe harbored any remaining tiny seed of doubt that money rules the world, the stories surrounding this month's global maritime "disasters" should pour the last drop of glyphosate on that seed.  

Three hundred Pakistani refugees perish when their over-crowded fishing boat sinks in the Mediterranean, and the world takes little notice...mirroring the response of the European agencies that could have averted the tragedy, but chose not to.  

Four ultra rich "adventurers" pony up a quarter of a million dollars each to ride a demonstrably flawed and dangerous craft to a century-old shipwreck, and disappear less than two hours into their journey.  A days-long, multi-million-dollar rescue effort ensues, with world press agencies providing a minute-by-minute accounting of the "drama" of a search made more urgent by the limited life-support aboard the shockingly makeshift vehicle...even though the US Navy had detected evidence of the disastrous outcome of the "adventure" minutes after the craft had ceased communication with the surface.  Four days and millions of dollars invested into a "rescue" for five rich men who had catastrophically imploded in the first hours of their foolish enterprise.

And three hundred poor men, women and children in a watery grave at the bottom of the Mediterranean.  No one will even bother to recover the bodies.

We should be outraged.

But we're not, are we?

 

    

On The Wankmaggot

A substantial portion of this blog—and others I have attempted and abandoned over the years—has been dedicated to political commentary, beginning with my take on Arnold Schwarzenegger’s election as governor of California in 2003.

So I feel somewhat obligated to comment here about the Tangerine Wankmaggot finally being charged with a crime, two years after nearly ending our government because he didn’t cheat quite enough to steal a second election to the highest post in the land.   

And, of course, that is not the crime with which he is being charged.

I hesitate to add to the all-Maggot, all-the-time that will now be playing on all platforms of American media for the foreseeable future.

One can only hold out the desperate hope that this has transpired far enough ahead of the 2024 election that it will not constitute a replay of the millions of dollars worth of free publicity that helped propel the Maggot to his first “victory” in 2016. 

But it’s not looking good.  I don’t look at CNN or Fox or MSNBC or really any news agency besides NPR and BBC news.

And both those outlets had the Maggot plastered all over their home pages all day Tuesday and into Wednesday.  The Madison Avenue  juggernaut is determined to continue to feed the insatiable and dangerous ego that has already demonstrated its desire—and ability—to rule the world.  All for the money.  It’s all about the money.   

How the fuck can we make them just…STOP?!

 

On Theology

 

It seems appropriate that I would come up with this post just before Easter—the “holiest” weeks of the Christian calendar.  Since I am not Christian (actually, becoming more anti-Christian as time goes on and the right-wing juggernaut grows stronger and more outrageous) I’m not particularly concerned about whom this post might offend.

A few days ago, I sat in my production room, toiling away with NPR talking in the background.  The topic being discussed was the 10^th anniversary of the election of Pope Francis.  I haven’t been a Catholic for many, many years, but I find I’m still interested in hearing about what goes on in the Church. 

The discussion delved deeper and deeper into the politics and machinations of Catholicism.  The host brought on guests who dissected the pros and cons of Francis’ reign, viewing his policies against the backdrop of not only recent upheavals in Church status quo (RE: the resignation of Pope Benedict 10 years ago), but also in the light (or darkness) of two millennia of Church doctrine and dogma.  It was a fascinating and very scholarly discussion. 

A few days later, I came upon this article online: US Bishops Document Against Transgender Health Care a Disaster

When all was said and done, my first thought was to marvel at the complexity of Catholic dogma and tradition.  I suppose the world is fortunate that a religious tradition so given to high thought and scholarliness has had so much influence over the human race for a couple thousand years.  We are even now witnessing what can/will happen when a cult that demonizes education and conspires to keep the masses uneducated and afraid comes into ascendancy.  Imagine what the state of the world might be if today’s right-wing “Christian” ideology had been in the forefront since the days of their Christ.

 (And yet…the same hateful prejudice can be embraced whether it is explained away by citing an encyclical written by some esteemed Catholic scholar of the past, or cloaked in fire and brimstone from the pulpit of a right-wing evangelical pastor.  “God hates homosexuals.  Especially trans-sexuals.  They are all going to hell.”)

 My thought in the end, after taking in this barrage of Catholic scholarship, was:  They have taken an essentially simple concept—the relationship between the human race and the Creator of all things—and made it outrageously complex.  Two thousand years of layers and layers of complex.  Apparently, the function of “religion” is to first  shoebox the Creator of the Universe in terms explicable to humans (basically, create a “god”) and then fashion a conduit between “men” and that “god.”  And make sure the keepers of the conduit occupy extreme privileged status among humankind.

The concept put forth by religion is that “god” is so inscrutable and holy that normal, common people have no right to approach or seek relationship with the Almighty.  There needs to be some kind of go-between, some middle-man, or multi-layers of middle men,  that allows one to wave one’s arms and be noticed by the All-powerful.

Bunk.

Let’s face it:  Human beings have no clue about the character of a force powerful enough to have created a Universe so vast that our entire world is less than a speck of dust in the cosmos.  For the most part, we can’t even bear to consider how miniscule we actually are in the vastness of the universe.  SO much we don’t know….So much we don’t understand.  So much we don’t want to know.  But we don’t want to know that we don’t know.  We want to believe we really do know.  So we construct these complicated theologies and spiritual hierarchies to explain, and to some degree protect us from, what we don’t know.

For my part…

I just feel that the Almighty knows I’m here.  Why should a force powerful enough to create the universe not be capable or desirous of having relationship with individual forms of its creation?  Who are we to say It can’t?  Or wouldn’t? 

I feel noticed.  I feel cared for.  I feel connected to whatever aspect of the Spirit of Creation constitutes the relationship of the Creator to creation.  And I don’t need an intermediary to stand between me and the Spirit and plug me in. Neither thousands of years of theological debate, nor the demonization thereof, will affect or discourage my personal path to relationship with the Creator. 

And I can’t help but think that if more humans just bagged the whole religion thing and opened ourselves to relationship with the Spirit, the world would be much better off.