I would say the key feature of being a Jehovah's Witness during the Knorr and Franz Presidency was the full frontal engagement of 'gunslinger' ministerial engagement (shootouts) between householders and JW's at the door and during Bible studies conducted in homes.
I didn't realize until I went to prison (1967-69) what a two-tier religion I was in, and only then because we had an intensified study program inside prison walls, highly motivated by our situation and facing into the headwind of a looming 1975 Armageddon.
We were trained to argue and use our green NWT as fast-draw rebuttal and sleek rhetoric overpowered opposition.
All, mind you, PRE-internet.
Had there been a World Wide Web in previous decades I doubt there would be a Watchtower religion!
One of the most salient features of JW theology was the EASE of rebuttal using (apparently) the Bible to knock-down objections.
Very few books exposing the Witness history of duplicity and flip-flops found their way into homes.
I was 'intellectually' attracted by the powerful simplicity of honed argumentation.
Part of all that was the (mistaken) delusion I was getting a remarkable education (with Greek, no less) and great speaking skills, as well as reasoning abilities honed to near perfection.
Ha-frickin'-ha!
What JW's had all along was double-talk, false reasoning, and a manufactured piety and skill.
Fast forward from 1963 (my baptism date) and 2019 and I barely recognize JW.org as being part of the religious organization I joined and championed.
The skills are gone.
The training has been abandoned. (You can't win arguments when your lies are revealed on Google.)
It's all pretend. The ministry, the cart-Witness, the Great Tribulation scare tactics .... just a North Korean style cult.
Sad and infuriating I was ever a part of this.
Posts by Terry
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27It was all GREEK to me
by Terry inaround 1976 i got the wild idea i'd like to learn greek (for my study of the christian greek scriptures and to 'get to the bottom' of whether i was wasting my time being even a token jehovah's witness.
) i would read the actual text and avoid my denomination's opinion commentaries, you see.. .
i learned the characters in the greek alphabet rather quickly and started reading an interlinear (english/greek) bible aloud - practicing my enunciation.
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Terry
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18
My little Speech on Patriotism
by Terry inmy july 4, speech on patriotism.
the last person in my family to serve in the armed forces was my uncle jack during the korean war.
he suffered a skull injury but fully recovered.. .
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Terry
I believe in overlapping:
So perhaps the Watchtower saved your life Terry.
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At the time, being raped didn't seem all that much better than dying. But now that many years have passed, I guess the burden and adjustment isn't an impossible one to bear.
I came out a far different person than the kid who went into prison.
THAT kid died. -
12
Chapter a Day (I will post) from my Sci-Fi novel
by Terry inchapter one.
the monorails of mars (1905) ____.
like watchful eyes—the twin moons of mars voyeured above the chaos.
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Terry
CHAPTER ONE
THE MONORAILS of MARS (1905)
____Like watchful eyes—the twin moons of Mars voyeured above the chaos. Men and aliens in savage battle fractured into shadows. Soon no human witness stirred. Percussion waves and Disruptor fire quieted. Solitary alien figures remained, sweeping past sentry stations, feeding on the dead and dying
"This is Nobile. (No-bill-ay) Code 3 emergency—" the message interrupted suddenly.
"Evacuate! We’re over-run. My god—the. . . "
Rally flares erupted outside the dome splashing blood-red light across Orion's starry backdrop.
Jack Clayton and Louise Boyd raced frantically to the stairwell seconds before dome shields collapsed. They dived for the shuttle tunnel just as the artificial atmosphere vanished in a whoosh.
Landing inside hatch entrance, Clayton punched the contamination-seal button. The hatch cover hummed downward sealing above them. A red light blinks 3 times followed by a green light all-safe.
The escape shuttle awaited 5 minutes beyond the tunnel promising refuge and deliverance . . . if it could be reached in time.
“Countdown 5 minutes to launch”
Norge (Nor-gay) escape shuttle afforded no weaponry or counter-measure defenses on board. Every contingency had been prepared—except this one.
Jack Clayton struggled to run and speak at the same time. His body screamed in distress.
*
"You can hustle faster . . . than . . . I . . . can . . . Louise. Go on ahead--don't wait . . for me!"
Clayton was an impressive man, large and athletic, but injury had hobbled him at this worst of all moments. For all his astuteness and vigor, shrapnel caught him by surprise in the left knee.
"No Jack—I’ll hold the shuttle for—"
Louise Boyd froze, stumbled, and choked. Percussion waves jolted her in mid-sentence. She clutched her neck and toppled; dropping into unconsciousness only meters from the shuttle’s closing door.
The cramped staging area swelled with smoke, swirling dust and two human bodies laid out like firewood. Weird beast-like ululations pierced the silence menacingly. Seconds later a trio of skulking alien figures emerged from the shadows, Disruptor pistols at the ready.A wiry mutant soldier stood straddling the unconscious colonists, grasping a round feeding drum. Its elongated face glowed with triumph and ravenous expectancy. (Human colonists had described drawings of them as a cross between Greek gods and starvation victims.) Torsos of Martians oddly mimicked humans, with forearms freakishly longer; lower leg bones contrarily shorter. Elongated thighs flexed in bunched muscles. Alien physicality possessed a magnificent, ugly beauty.
"These two—I demand . . . my food!"
The Martian platoon leader’s tongue swept its lip flap. It hesitated, then holstered its weapon—voice booming with absolute authority.
"Infect and release them—go!”
The mutant underling hunkered down, glowering at the meal, making every effort to restrain its wolfish appetite. The alien trembled and tossed the feeding drum aside, leaning forward on its haunches; spitting on its terrestrial captives. Wrenching off its glove, plunging its spindly finger down its own throat (gagging with an awful retching sound); the creature bent forward with a determined trajectory—splashing both humans with spill.
Slime oozed across the victims like melting wax. A chemical hiss vaporized into white smoke. Garment threads began to dissolve. Out of the foul liquid, parasites the size of strawberry seeds skittered toward the victims’ nostrils, disappearing inside.
The alien platoon leader observed until satisfied then signaled to its minions. The alien patrol dispersed, quick-stepping into the roiling smoke from whence they'd come.
Back at shuttle launch area, emergency search scans swept the shuttle interior—no human life detected. Subsystems pinged, located, and recovered Boyd and Clayton’s unconscious bodies utilizing search and rescue lifts. Straightaway the shuttle, bolted like a cartridge in a high-powered gun, entered final launch mode.
Five leagues away Umberto Nobile (No-bill-ay) fought his last stand. One by one his confederates fell. He had detected a pattern to exploit for temporary advantage. Aliens staged frontal assaults vocalizing eerie ululating war cries followed by direct attack. Three abreast—aliens became easy targets once they’d sprung into view.
“Suppertime—come and get it.” Nobile bellowed.
He reckoned the numbers stacked against him—he could hold them at bay until his charging unit went dead—maybe 2 minutes remaining at best.
(Disruptor weapons destabilized without nuclear reaction. The fabric of reality jiggled for a microsecond—ripping apart living cells.)
Umberto Nobile was an aeronautical engineer and explorer in his early life. He had never fought in battles of any sort; not even a fist fight. He’d earned a solid reputation exploring Earth’s Arctic, suffering many encounters with near-death. Nothing had prepared him for this.
From his nine-o’clock and three-o’clock position the enemy approached, both at once—his one choice remained. Nobile fetched a tiny capsule from his utility pocket to pop into his mouth—but before he could self-terminate, shrieking enemy mutants rushed him full on.
He screamed and blasted as he swept his weapon in all directions wildly. At once his uniform splattered with intestines of Martian soldiers. He let go the final bursts of his Disruptor pistol. His boots glistened with green slime and human blood. He blasted again. The putrid aroma off offal and bile arose.“You scum are really full of it.”
His uniform transformed to the color of death and desperation. Relentlessly, the waves of mutants plunged into the breach; their weapons spitting death.
“Eat this!”
In one arcing flourish Nobile emptied his clip. Slashing diagonally left to right, then reversing—Nobile gasped dumbstruck as nine enemy combatants clutched themselves and tumbled dead at his feet.
“Holy Mary, Mother of God!”
Nobile checked his clip: only one round remained.
From the shadows, in one swift movement, an alien Commander lunged forward seizing the man by his throat, forcing him to kneel. Gasping for breath, Nobile struggled utterly helpless in the alien’s insuperable grip.
“I’d like to call my lawyer if you don’t mind—”
Immediately, two Martian mutants grasping meat hooks scrambled to the sentry dugout, raking across two of Nobile’s dead companions. They scavenged at top speed hooking, skewering, and dragging corpses off, stuffing them into large dinner drums grasped by a third alien.
Nobile’s eyes went wide—incredulous as three mutants took turns vomiting into the drums. Digestive acids dissolved dead sentries’ clothing without affecting flesh.
A 2nd Martian Commander of higher rank stormed the enclosure barking orders.
"Devour dead ones—infect and release living ones."
Another mutant, scrawny and fierce, hustled into the group grunting and slurping; its eyes wide with madness and starvation.
"I sniff—delicious meat!"
The creature grunted and farted. A snake-like tongue slithered inside its mouth as it unhinged its jaw, creating a cavernous, fanged oral hole.
Nearby, the Supreme Commander stood sniffing the motionless Nobile suspiciously like a hideous bloodhound.
"This one reeks!” Its voice boomed with revulsion.
Nobile puzzled it out. Colonists had frequently bemoaned his liberal fondness for onion and garlic. Despite the gravity of his situation, he felt offended.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re not a people person?”
The unhinged mutant bewailed, "I demand my share!"
Its fellows ignored him and concluded marinating their meal as they commenced peeling meat from human skeletons, sucking flavor from the bone marrow.
Nobile’s stomach churned. He battled back his nausea.
At once the shrieking mutant lunged at his fellows, brandishing his hooked trident. A chaotic melee of blood and curses erupted. A deafening sonic wave abruptly concussed the ground. Supreme Commander's Disruptor pistol spoke four final words of death. Four twisted alien corpses answered . . . then, stillness.
"Inferiors!"
The elite Commander snatched Nobile by his ankle, dragging him to open ground, as a blinding beam of energy pulsed toward Earth in the direction of shuttle launch dock.
Platoon leaders swiveled about to scan the bridge just as the Norge shuttle dimmed into after images in the inky night sky. The alien snorted with a gesture of confusion.
Nobile smirked wearily, “I’d explain that to you, but I’m out of crayons and puppets.”
Supreme Commander pivoted to his underling, “Infection?”
The other alien lifted his chin in assent.
Easily hoisting Nobile onto a rail car, it then turned and clasped its comrade by the shoulder. The larger one threw its head back as both howled a spine-chilling ululation in weird unison startling Nobile in fear of his soul, rattling his bones.
Moons Deimos and Phoebos spread weird, silver beacons about the Martian landscape to the sounds of vomiting, flesh-rending, and meat gobbling. Mars had triumphed and these were its savage victories.
Supreme Commander’s gaze bore down at his human quarry, scrutinizing him curiously, almost scientifically. Something glimmered behind his eyes.
“Thirsty?”
The officer motioned and Nobile’s hair went up on the back of his neck.
“Nah, I’m trying to quit—but thanks anyway.”
The smaller alien removed a glove, jamming its spidery finger into its throat, and spewed parasitic vomit into the mouth of Umberto Nobile: Arctic explorer, adventurer and aeronautical inventor. The victim choked violently. His body quickened as his eyes rolled madly back in his head. The hulking mutant’s basso voice whispered as though intoning a macabre lullaby to an alien infant.
The effect was hypnotic and paralyzing.
Nobile sensed his mind ebbing . . . dimming. Nightmarish white light flashed in his head with the sweet, imaginary voice of a mystery woman dancing behind a veil.
Nobile’s body shuddered and went still.
“All is well.” Alien Commander gazed contentedly at his day’s work done.
The relay from Mars to Earth arrived. Transcribed and delivered directly to the White House, the President read the words: “All is well on Mars.”
Teddy Roosevelt looked up from his desk.
“Good news gives me a warm feeling—like pissing my pants.”
He turned to his Chief of Staff.“Find out what’s wrong up there and see to it immediately.”
________END CHAPTER ONE _____
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27
It was all GREEK to me
by Terry inaround 1976 i got the wild idea i'd like to learn greek (for my study of the christian greek scriptures and to 'get to the bottom' of whether i was wasting my time being even a token jehovah's witness.
) i would read the actual text and avoid my denomination's opinion commentaries, you see.. .
i learned the characters in the greek alphabet rather quickly and started reading an interlinear (english/greek) bible aloud - practicing my enunciation.
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Terry
Anna Marina
Hi Terry
What do you mean by that? I was never taught the word parousia. It wasn't in the literature when I studied. Granted I know the word now, but that is for different reasons, because parousia proves them wrong not right.
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Anna, thanks for asking that question!
Director Alfred Hitchcock described something he called MacGuffin, "I mean the emptiest, the most nonexistent, and the most absurd plot device - the mysterious object in a spy thriller that sets the whole chain of events into motion or purports to EXPLAIN without really doing so."
Charles Taze Russell made use of a MacGuffin (parousia) to move his theology out of trouble.
Here is what happened.____
In his early twenties, Russell was heavily influenced by the Adventist movement, begun by William Miller, who had predicted that Christ would return in 1844. This was the origin of one of the trademark JW characteristics: the creation of fanciful biblical chronologies and date-setting. Miller himself admitted that his chronology had failed (which was indeed self-evident after 1844). A number of his followers, however, rationalized the failure by inventing a doctrine of Christ’s invisible return.
Russell, who began to lead, in 1870, a Bible study group which evolved into today’s Jehovah’s Witnesses, repeated this unfortunate practice. He wrote in 1881 about the speculations of his short-term partner, Nelson H. Barbour, an Adventist from Rochester, New York, who had originally predicted the physical return of Christ in 1874:
. . . When 1874 came and there was no outward sign of Jesus in the literal clouds and in a fleshly form, there was a general re-examination of all the arguments . . . It was soon discovered that the expectation of Jesus in the flesh at the second advent was a mistake . . . that Jesus was quickened or made alive in spirit . . . Though the manner in which they had expected Jesus was in error, yet the time . . . was correct, and that the Bridegroom came in the Autumn of 1874. (Watchtower, Oct/Nov 1881, 3)
Russell and his followers agreed with Barbour’s original prophecy and explained its failure by transforming the Second Coming into an “invisible presence,” as is evident in Russell’s later account:
As we look backward, we can see that our pathway has been . . . progressive . . . A new view of truth can never contradict a former truth . . . Bro. Keith (one of our contributors) was used of the Lord . . . His surprise was, at finding that the Greek word parousia, which signifies “presence,” had in our common version been improperly rendered “coming” . . . Can it be possible that Jesus does not come in a fleshly body at his second advent? . . . Examination revealed the fact that Jesus since his resurrection is a totally different being from the Jesus who died . . . he is no longer a natural, but a spiritual body. (Watchtower, February 1881, 3)
Russell discussed biblical chronology with Barbour at length in January 1876 and adopted the view which he held until 1914, namely, that Christ returned invisibly in 1874, that the rapture of the church would occur in 1878, and that the dawn of a golden age would commence in 1914 (see section III). He wrote his first booklet, The Object and Manner of Our Lord’s Return (published by Barbour) in 1877. It set forth the doctrine of the invisible “presence” without delving into dates.
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About 1930, Rutherford moved the “Parousia” from 1874 to 1914. He made this change about 16 years after the supposed Parousia had taken place.
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Putting a square peg into a round hole is the specialty of cults and cult leaders. Magicians used magic words. Shaman use incantations, smoke, and drugs. Politicians use rhetoric Religions use numinous words for their MacGuffin.
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18
My little Speech on Patriotism
by Terry inmy july 4, speech on patriotism.
the last person in my family to serve in the armed forces was my uncle jack during the korean war.
he suffered a skull injury but fully recovered.. .
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Terry
If the tanks had paraded down the mall in Washington D.C. I have little doubt some Chinese student would rush forward into the path for a photo op and a front page spread on the NYTIMES :)
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18
My little Speech on Patriotism
by Terry inmy july 4, speech on patriotism.
the last person in my family to serve in the armed forces was my uncle jack during the korean war.
he suffered a skull injury but fully recovered.. .
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Terry
The flag artist is Steven Lester:
https://www.artworkarchive.com/profile/steven-lester/artwork/old-glory-steven-lester -
27
It was all GREEK to me
by Terry inaround 1976 i got the wild idea i'd like to learn greek (for my study of the christian greek scriptures and to 'get to the bottom' of whether i was wasting my time being even a token jehovah's witness.
) i would read the actual text and avoid my denomination's opinion commentaries, you see.. .
i learned the characters in the greek alphabet rather quickly and started reading an interlinear (english/greek) bible aloud - practicing my enunciation.
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Terry
I think the fetish JW's have for quoting Greek goes all the way back to Benjamin Willson's Emphatic Diaglott (the WT used to offer it) and the idea that parousia solved the problem of having been WRONG about 1914 (seemingly).
We were like kids dressed in adult clothes pretending to be so smart about the meaning of meaning.
I wonder if current members learn anything at all or if it's just about surviving the Great Tribulation. At least, back in the 50's and 60's we had the "Theocratic Ministry School" to bolster the delusion we actually knew something.
The whole idea of having a conversation with a householder which involved debate may well have disappeared with the advent of the Internet and the ability to Google "Jehovah's Witnesses".
Anybody can pinpoint the errors pretty quickly. -
18
My little Speech on Patriotism
by Terry inmy july 4, speech on patriotism.
the last person in my family to serve in the armed forces was my uncle jack during the korean war.
he suffered a skull injury but fully recovered.. .
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Terry
There's all sorts of ways to look at the phenomenon of Patriotism.
There is probably a survival instinct at the bottom of it.
MY TRIBE against the WORLD is an eventual problem, however.
"We" are always right - no matter how wrong.
The logic being: if we don't have our OWN, what do we have?
Animals in Nature certainly maintain solidarity against the "other."
We are (hidden atavistic-ally within us) animals too.
Family first.
Friends before strangers.
Bros before Ho's. (Oh - I think I've gone too far. Sorry.) -
27
It was all GREEK to me
by Terry inaround 1976 i got the wild idea i'd like to learn greek (for my study of the christian greek scriptures and to 'get to the bottom' of whether i was wasting my time being even a token jehovah's witness.
) i would read the actual text and avoid my denomination's opinion commentaries, you see.. .
i learned the characters in the greek alphabet rather quickly and started reading an interlinear (english/greek) bible aloud - practicing my enunciation.
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Terry
DID YOU KNOW?Around 1976 I got the wild idea I'd like to learn Greek (for my study of the Christian Greek scriptures and to 'get to the bottom' of whether I was wasting my time being even a token Jehovah's Witness.) I would read the actual text and avoid my denomination's opinion commentaries, you see.I learned the characters in the Greek Alphabet rather quickly and started reading an INTERLINEAR (English/Greek) Bible aloud - practicing my enunciation.
Who do I think I was kidding? Myself, I guess.I could actually read the text (without a clue in the world what I was saying, of course.)Being myself, naturally I was eager to show off my profound linguistic mastery of Greek.Where else to begin than the local Greek Restaurant in Redondo Beach, California!For my presentation, I had memorized The Lord's Prayer in Greek straight out of The Kingdom Interlinear Bible.I had an audience of 2 flesh and blood Greek restaurant owners, Basil and Nicos.Conversationally I dropped a hint here and there I was a student (self-taught) of Greek. Suddenly, Nicos was profoundly attentive!He called his brother over. Apparently Greeks take their language VERY SERIOUSLY - with extraordinary emotional pride!These guys really wanted to hear my recitation.Gulp.Filled, as I was, with enormous confidence and a bit of swagger, I began reciting ....(Mind you - I had never actually HEARD Greek being spoken - I'd only read the dictionary pronunciation guides.)I imagined I'd sound rather scholarly - if not authentically partisan - man- on -the-street in my speechifying.Basil and Nicos listened intently - both slowly nodding ... following closely ... rapt attention all the way through.I finished without a hitch ...and awaited the inevitable applauseand - likely FREE MEAL!!Basil looked at Nicos.Nicos peered back at Basil.Straightaway, they burst into laughter ...uproarious guffaws and belly laughs that went on and on ...Finally, panting for air, Basil shook his head and placed a hairy paw on my shoulder."You must never do this again. No my friend, stick with English. If not for Greek's sake - for God's sake!"That pretty much ended my Greek scholarship.EPILOGUEWhen telephone solicitors and bill collectors catch me with a phone call -- I immediately launch into a recitation of The Lord's Prayer in Greek (yes -mangled Greek).They soon sputter and hang up on me.That is some solace, I think you'll agree!
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18
My little Speech on Patriotism
by Terry inmy july 4, speech on patriotism.
the last person in my family to serve in the armed forces was my uncle jack during the korean war.
he suffered a skull injury but fully recovered.. .
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Terry
My July 4, Speech on PatriotismThe last person in my family to serve in the Armed Forces was my Uncle Jack during the Korean War. He suffered a skull injury but fully recovered.My Dad's side of the family fled Finland to avoid being compelled to fight for Sweden around 1809. They came to America by 1900.My Mom's father was in the Navy during WWI as a telegraph operator (he was the very first in the U.S.).Mom and her two sisters joined the Women's Army Corp during WWII.My parents were Blue Dog Democrats. (They'd vote for a blue dog before they would a Republican.)I was reared with a strong sense of Patriotism, respect for Government, and a sense of "My Country: right or wrong."Guess what?Yeah. You know already.My best friend, Johnny, derailed all that. Johnny was a Jehovah's Witness.It was a religious cult - but thought it was about God and teaching my fellow humans how to avoid Armageddon.That's on me.It was a slow process of gradual indoctrination - and I didn't give in without a fight. But - I became a Conscientious Objector and I did end up in Federal Prison.You know that already about me.___AFTER WWII endedThe fight against Communism "by any means necessary" was the beginning of the end of Patriotism because our Government officials began lying to the American people so as to be able to get into wars (thought necessary) and still appear to be a bright beacon of human decency, a shining city on the hill.JFK was persuaded by his military advisers to invade CUBA.That was called "The Bay of Pigs" fiasco.(Our military double-crossed the Cuban insurgents we were invading with and no Air-Cover was provided.)This drove Castro to seek help from the "other" super power, the U.S.S.R. Soviet Union.That was called the Cuban Missile Crisis.I was in the 9th grade.Simmering on the back burner was VIETNAM.America was lied to about that for a long, long time by our top leaders.The "Domino Theory" was behind it all. If you allowed one small Indonesian country to fall to Communism, the whole world would follow.The U.S. military has estimated that between 200,000 and 250,000 South Vietnamese soldiers died in the war.In 1982 the Vietnam Veterans Memorial was dedicated in Washington, D.C., inscribed with the names of 57,939 members of U.S. armed forces who had died or were missing as a result of the war.America never lost a battle in that war - but - America lost a generation of Patriotic kids.Now here is my point, read it carefully, please.IF I HAD NOT MET JOHNNY, I would have gone to Vietnam.(several of my class mates in High School served. One close friend perished. Bill Borders, may he rest in peace.)I may or may not have died but I would have done so as a true Patriot.Unless . . . I became disillusioned by the pointlessness and waste of human life.I shall never know.I said all the above to say this:You can be a PATRIOT and still mistrust your lying government, forked-tongued National Security Agency, politicians, and partisan News outlets.Yes. How?Love your country, the fantastic diversity of traditions and nationalities, and the charitable impulse to care for others.I fully support our young men and women in the armed forces but distinctly disapprove of the wars they are sent to die in.You can call that dysfunctional patriotism, if you like.Yemen, Libya, Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Somaliaare foreign countries crawling with American C.I.A. "advisers" and a helluva lot of our troops.You didn't vote for that and probably know very little that's true about the why and wherefore.BE PATRIOTIC - just don't be gullible.End of July 4th speech.
