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Saturday, April 8, 2017






Listen to our newest episode on how we blend the past circumstances with current political clashes in Syria and how superpower intervention is offsetting the natural course of things.

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/tabernaclefaith/2017/04/08/history-of-syria-hafez-al-assad-bashar-al-assad-alawites

Sunday, March 26, 2017

How the NSA was ineffective in 911 & other critical sharing of data with CIA and FBI

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZbUbgohooRA

This video covers a lot of intelligence breaches that occurred just before 911.  It explains how the NSA is structured, what information can be legally exchanged between all 3 U.S. intelligence agencies.  It will be covered on our radio show at 11 p.m. CST TONIGHT March 26th.  Call in to our radio dial.  323 642 1691.


Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Happy Birthday


Cynicism is born
It can't be reversed without repentance.
I don't hold the keys to your kingdom
One judges, the other is contrite
who is better in the eyes of God??
Forgive, hatefulness, spite
it exists
acceptance is the key
live for today
forget the past.

God says we must love our brother, even those we can easily love from a distance.  Those we have hurt close up, there is a path of righteousness through humility.

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

She held the cup of coffee like a fermented bow against the dark spaces of reason.  In the breach of the morning light, it was a dawn she would have like to repossess 2000 miles to the West.  But here she stood at the back window of a Duluth Heights group home, snow filled to the lower trunks of the pines with passing deer just as confused-- a swallowed up memory of timeless landscape that had lost it's gravity.  No movement or sound.  Just vacated rabbit tracks and an un-shoveled deck.  She had a hard time defining the American good life.  It was like a bad clown portrait won at a local carnival that needed touch ups in the basement.  Most likely the painting had clumped up acrylic laid across a velvet sheen intended to captivate magic.  There was no visible magic in her life, just matchstick counting of days as her bank account increased in relation to her 30 plus hours of overtime each week.  She was saving for the fate against time, the anti aging gene that would set her back 30 years into Mick Vrudny's arms.  The only jilted magic currently was John Nettles, a British actor, who captivated her consciousness.  She lived in his Netflix underbrush of green Midsomer meadows, stone walls and luscious English gardens.  It was in the transient, tranfererable state she could begin to imagine.

Death and Life were produced from the same definitive noun -- a non tangible conception to mark beginning and end, with the same flat line emotion.  A spooled consciousness that rotated poignant memories- her daughter that lie dead on a morgue table, the last words her hometown boyfriend spoke to her, the evasiveness of her father, a flicker of standing on the mountain in San Bernardino, the view of the Moreno Valley from the rim of the world.  It was in those high places, away from the City of Angels or those dense forests of Minnesota where she came to be, an infrared heat source to tranquility defined apart from humans.




I can only hear the faintness of your voice as you prescribe to me in your own predestined oral values contrived from a Melody Beattie book with Joel Olsteen innuendos....the advice you thought I should heed and what concrete silhouettes fully got me out of the casino. It was by my own doing with a divine, powerful hand.  My will gave into reason.  A shimmering voice against the glaze of my mind, a cultural restitution of conformity that sculptured my inner objectivity into a Jesus provoked denial of materialism.  It was all about separation- the separation of fleshly will to encounter divine will, the perpetuation of mortality and attempting to increase riches and multiply them from a post -mortem minimum wage.  Desire, conquest, the casino imagery and baseless nonsense that drove me into plummeting bank accounts, followed by false crescendos of excess.  The savage minimalism of my father who had 800,000 in the bank and wore his tattered light blue sweater 5 of 7 days a week.  All I need is a BLT or a Reuben and a bank balance over $100 to be content, but I was driven to drive 20 miles to Black Bear to expand paper dollars I could not eat.   (to be continued)

Friday, February 10, 2017

In Trumpland by Michael Moore

The movie Trumpland brought me to tears.
There were many moving moments.
He painted a portrait of Hillary that exalted her.  It did not have the scars of media or mudslinging, it was pure in it's existence.
Her service as First Lady to initiate health care which was ultimately rejected; her careful planning to launch universal health care was her brainchild.
Moore mentioned the average of 50,000 people a year who die with a medical condition prior to Obamacare because they did not have adequate health care.
The slanted feelings of hostility toward her by misguided conservatives and their projection that her intentions were evil all become political waste because someone with a greedier heart try to kick her to the curb.  
Well, America got what they wanted now but now all the institutions of the federal government can see just how dangerous and small minded Trump can be.
The litmus paper will turn color by summer.

Thursday, January 12, 2017

10 years of my life in a pictorial slide show

Basically, this slide show is a pictorial of all the pictures I have posted on this blog.  That covers over 9 years.  I have some duplicates that I could have weeded out but I did create it in the YouTube Studio.  Please enjoy and if you were in my life in the last decade, there's a good chance you are in this slide show.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XSgZ1k4NPHs


Also, Albert rejoined the show last night and he brought in some excellent callers from Riverside County.  One is a delegate for the Democratic State Convention and one is an original creator of the Occupy Movement in 2011.

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/tabernaclefaith/2017/01/12/occupy-palm-desert-clean-energy-revenge-of-bernie-crats