It wasn't until very late in life (probably due to Mel Gibson's inebriated rants) that I became aware of the virulent antisemitism of the Catholic Church historically. My grandmother was Catholic and I had no interest in the history of Catholicism until I became a JW in my teens. Even then, it was sufficient to accept WatchTower propaganda and go no further.
This little story is based on a joke!
I was experimenting with the idea of turning jokes into shocking stories by means of re-framing them.
It does interest me how a-l-m-o-s-t any narrative can be hijacked with re-framing. A lesson for us all.
Posts by Terry
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11Confession of a German Widow
by Terry inconfession of a german widow.
rosa hoffberger would be late for mass.
it couldn’t be helped; cold weather set in and her movement was twice as difficult with arthritis.she hadn’t attended mass since the bombing had ended months ago.
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Terry
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11
Confession of a German Widow
by Terry inconfession of a german widow.
rosa hoffberger would be late for mass.
it couldn’t be helped; cold weather set in and her movement was twice as difficult with arthritis.she hadn’t attended mass since the bombing had ended months ago.
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Terry
CONFESSION OF A GERMAN WIDOW
Rosa Hoffberger would be late for Mass.
It couldn’t be helped; cold weather set in and her movement was twice as difficult with arthritis.
She hadn’t attended Mass since the bombing had ended months ago. Rosa hadn’t worried.
She mumbled to herself as she trudged up the cathedral steps: “A confession before I pass means a state of grace with the Lord.”Two long hours inside the church. She shifted her weight in the pew impatiently.
Finally Rosa’s turn in the confessional booth with the priest!
After preliminary recitations, she got down to business.“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” She paused as though a weighty matter were oppressing her mind.
“Go ahead, my child,” Father Herrman urged.
“What grave sin weighs upon your conscience this morning?”The priest smiled to himself.
Elder people in his village often amused him with their strange notions of what sin was in their daily lives.The widow’s rustling dress fabric filled the silence of the Confessional. She cleared her raspy throat a few times and began a faltering narrative.
“I need to confess... and receive the blessing….
Because … I never once brought anything up in confession before. About this - I mean...
I’m having heart problems now and I don’t want to go to my grave unclean before our Lord.”The old priest, Father Herrman, had known Rosa since before the Great War, when she was a small girl in the farming village outside Berlin. Her mind seemed often confused and her memory sometimes faltered.
He would willingly bring peace to her few remaining days on earth.“Go ahead, tell me what is troubling you.”
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. I … I hid a refugee in my cellar."
“But that was not a sin, my child—it was noble. An act of compassion!”
“Father, I did not tell my husband.”
“I knew your husband. I understand. Such deception would be necessary. His views are well known.”
“I hid a young Rabbi… with considerable money. I made him pay me 50 marks a week!”
The priest rolled his eyes, "Well, I admit that certainly wasn't the most selfless thing to do, charging the man to save his life -- but you did save his life and that is a good thing. Such weaknesses God forgives."
Momentary silence passed and the priest could tell there was more to come.
“Is there anything else?”
Father Herrman listened as she continued clearing her throat. Hesitating …
“You have eased my mind, Father. There is but one more question. . .”
The priest waited patiently for a full minute.
He finally prompted her.
"None of us is without sin, my child - you risked your life for one not of our faith. What else bothers you?”“Yes, I know Father. But, you see, I—um . . .”
The priest suddenly threw up his hands with an insight which suggested itself to him.
“Emotions rise to the surface during war which otherwise are unthinkable. I knew your Otto, a difficult man—a cold personality. You will receive no judgment from this priest, I assure you!”
A long sigh heaved on the widow’s side of the screen.
She suddenly seemed to grasp what Father Herrman was really saying.“Oh no, Father! Nothing of the sort ever happened. Lord no! It’s nothing like that, I assure you. It’s just—I um . . . “
The patience of the old priest grew short.
“You have to confess and we’ll put it right in the eyes of our good Christ.”
“Rabbi paid me 50 marks every week. Throughout the war he never seemed to run short. Nor did he quibble in the least that I was charging him. In my defense, after all, I’m feeding him home cooked meals! He wasn’t made to suffer in the abominable camps like the rest of his lot.”
“Yes. True. Go on. . . “
The lady seemed to straighten; her voice was clear and filled with confident energy. She’d made her mind up.
“Thank you, Father. Since I’m a poor widow and all, I was wondering about all that. And asking your advice.”
Father Herrman cocked his head curiously. “Very well - what is it?”
“Is it okay if I wait until his money runs out -before- I tell the Rabbi the war has ended?”The cathedral bells rang out over the hillside into the village.
Father Herrman swallowed hard.
He croaked. “Oh, my dear God!”
___The End___
By Terry Edwin Walstrom
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4
Interview with Russell and Rutherford (satire)
by Terry inthis interview was found amongst johannes greber's papers left in his attic and probably were the result of his wife channeling the spirits of russell and rutherford!.
q: how do you wish to be called; mr.russell...dr.russell, pastor russell?.
russell: for many years i served as a pastor although i never darkened the doorway of an institution of theology for purposes of obtaining certification in the mindset of christendom.. rutherford: you can call me judge or you can call me joe as long as you call me for supper!
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Terry
Thank you, 1234 - I gargle while I'm writing :)
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4
Interview with Russell and Rutherford (satire)
by Terry inthis interview was found amongst johannes greber's papers left in his attic and probably were the result of his wife channeling the spirits of russell and rutherford!.
q: how do you wish to be called; mr.russell...dr.russell, pastor russell?.
russell: for many years i served as a pastor although i never darkened the doorway of an institution of theology for purposes of obtaining certification in the mindset of christendom.. rutherford: you can call me judge or you can call me joe as long as you call me for supper!
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Terry
My dream scenario is having 10 generations of Bible Students/Jehovah's Witnesses resurrected and placed in a conference room to let them catch up on the state-of-the-art of TRUTH!
Now THAT would be fascinating. Who'd win? -
6
A Strange Story
by Terry ina strange story.
chad's diner .
the visitor in the tattered baseball cap blinked painfully in the direction of the sun and winced.
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Terry
Thanks!
I'm humbled by the appreciation! -
4
Interview with Russell and Rutherford (satire)
by Terry inthis interview was found amongst johannes greber's papers left in his attic and probably were the result of his wife channeling the spirits of russell and rutherford!.
q: how do you wish to be called; mr.russell...dr.russell, pastor russell?.
russell: for many years i served as a pastor although i never darkened the doorway of an institution of theology for purposes of obtaining certification in the mindset of christendom.. rutherford: you can call me judge or you can call me joe as long as you call me for supper!
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Terry
The actual fact is this. Rutherford bought a set of books from a colporteur (because the Judge had toiled as a salesman himself to put himself through Law School) and felt sorry for the Bible Student offering the books.
This led to a Bible study (ha - a recruitment) and eventually an introduction to the Pastor who'd authored The Divine Plan himself, Russell.
Rutherford ingratiated himself with the Boss and became indispensable as an attorney.
His over-powering personality would impress the mild-mannered Pastor at first.
Eventually, however, we can see from Russell's Last Will and Testament - he knew Rutherford was not the sort of person to be put in charge of the Bible Students (or Russell's legacy.) -
6
A Strange Story
by Terry ina strange story.
chad's diner .
the visitor in the tattered baseball cap blinked painfully in the direction of the sun and winced.
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Terry
There was actually a Chad and a Chad's diner I heard about on NPR (a couple of decades ago) which, for me, struck a chord. The real Chad died, however.
But for some strange reason I thought to myself - "What if Chad had not perished, and what if he didn't know he was himself Chad, a further - what if he sometimes visited his own Diner as a stranger? And then the idea became: what if I wrote a story where the reader doesn't know who the protagonist is - but he's being followed around by a strange character? I'd love to see my story done as a teleplay on Alfred Hitchcock presents ;) -
6
A Strange Story
by Terry ina strange story.
chad's diner .
the visitor in the tattered baseball cap blinked painfully in the direction of the sun and winced.
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Terry
A Strange Story
CHAD'S DINER
The visitor in the tattered baseball cap blinked painfully in the direction of the sun and winced. The map in his hand seemed to go white for a second as his eyes adjusted once more to the tiny words.
The Visitor's Center behind him shimmered in August heat with its CLOSED sign dangling from the locked door.
Now and then, he'd pull off the cap and wipe the sweat away stopping to ask strangers for directions.
He'd nod as they spoke. The heat baked his head which pounded with agony, making him lose track of what they had just said.It was right about then --
he began to notice somebody watching him.Across the narrow street he'd caught a man studying him .
Weird.
Immediately the spooky stranger feigned interest in a paperback book and moved his lips as though reading it.Maybe. Maybe not. Could be heatstroke and imagination!
("It didn't mean anything. This headache is all that matters.")
Struggling to make sense of this village map, the man in the baseball cap narrowed his eyes and headed off due west.
At least - he hoped it was West.
_____The large white lettering read CHAD'S DINER.
Stopping in front of a large glassed window the smell of coffee immediately felt promising...smelled wonderful!The bell tinkled as he swung the door open and a wave of cold air met the August heat behind him as he entered.
Whew! Air conditioning! He smiled. But the smile began to fade.
The Diner seemed peculiar all at once.
"Chad's Diner", he whispered to himself.It was bustling with activity as employees wearing red shirts scurried about like ants at a picnic.
That wasn't weird.
What WAS weird was the T-shirt each employee wore...with a name and how the person was related to the owner.
Chad's was obviously a family restaurant with an owner who had a BIG ego.
Three T-shirt employees passed his table. He found himself reading the letters as they passed by:"HI! I'm Chad's Uncle."
"HI! I'm Chad's brother."
"Hi! I'm Chad's cousin."
Walls were decorated with hand-colored drawings signed by "Chad." Each drawing was a different view of the Diner from inside. One thing for sure ; Chad was not a great artist.
Half the pictures were child-like while others slightly more professional.
Curious nonsense!
A waitress suddenly appeared - way too cheerful!
"Hi, I'm Chad's...um....well, I guess I'm not!"
The woman's voice spoke cheerfully. He faced a lady in her mid-40's wearing a T-shirt with white letters he read out loud to himself:
"HI! I'm Chad's Mom."The waitress looked confused. Embarrassed.
"I'm
nother. Not Chad's Mom."She lavished a broad smile.
He blinked at her as though he feared she were dangerous. She quickly reached out and touched his arm comfortingly."Chad's REAL mom gave me her shirt to wear. I'm just a friend of hers from High School visiting for the summer. I haven't seen her in years!
Can you believe it? She put me to work here in the diner!
Would you like a table?"He nodded reluctantly and they crossed the hardwood floor passing tables and conversations, the sound of sipped coffee, rattling dishes and clinking silverware.
Not Chad's Mom sat him next to the window looking out across the road toward the Town Square where musician's were unloading their instruments for a sunset concert.
"Would you like a menu or do you already know what you want?"
"Coffee....please........and.......pie. You have pie?" He stammered.
He rubbed his head poking fingers under his baseball cap.
"I'll bet you have a headache, don't you? That sun is so bright out there! I'll get you some aspirin from my purse. We've got apple, cherry, lemon and coconut cream."
"Apple...is fine. Lots of whipped cream. Thanks. I guess I stared into the sun too long."
He rubbed his cap again and gazed absently out the window."Coming right up."
She turned briskly and headed off toward the swinging kitchen door.Looking out through the window - that weird guy caught his gaze.
The same quirky fellow directly across the street staring back at him again! Immediately assuming the posture of a person examining a newspaper and fiddling in his pocket for pretend change.(Some kind of creep; maybe a pickpocket?)
The strong scent of frying burgers pulled him back as his coffee arrived along with a generous heaping wedge of pie.
Lots of whipped cream!Waitress faked her smile.
"I'll be right back. Gotta get this double cheese to Mister Impatient over there before he blows a gasket."
Now and again one of the "HI! I'm Chad's--" would pause and fix their gaze on him and make a face and go away.
(He must have whipped cream on his nose again.)
Or ...
He touched his armpit casually and held his fingers up to his nose.
Yeah. Well, too bad.
Wandering around this nowhere village and getting lost might bring out some honest sweat in anybody!Outside, the lurking weird guy seemed to have moved on.
At least, he wasn't obvious any longer. Maybe tired of his sport already."Here ya go, honey. Two St. Joseph's aspirin for a whopping headache! Just what the Bishop ordered!"
He listened to her chuckle to herself and then swallowed the aspirin, chugging the tumbler of water without pause.
He glug-glugged without embarrassment.
"Woo. You must be thirsty."
She stated the obvious with a sense of discovery.
He checked his nose for whipped cream and began hesitantly trying to find just the right tone, "What is all this...."Chad" business with the shirts and drawings."?
The waitress pursed her lips and looked around at nothing at all. Shrugged.
"It isn't a story to tell out loud, not really."
He watched her struggle with herself and lose. She liked the gossip.
"Chad is my best friend's son. I lived in another State and never met him. But I've heard plenty about him. He always--and I do mean ALWAYS--wanted to own his own Diner when he grew up. Those drawings are his plans he's been working on since he was knee-high. Very bright kid, I'll tell ya, honey! He knew just how many stools at the counter and what they should look like. Drew the table arrangements, color of the walls and all that."
He poked his fork into the crust of the apple pie and it flaked promisingly.
"Chad's idea, you see, was to start a business for the whole family to work at. He saw himself as Boss. Get it? Smart kid! And..ambitious you might say."
"Sure."
The bite of pie was tart, cold and fresh. He checked his nose for whipped cream."Everybody encouraged Chad, naturally. I doubt they--any of them--really figured it would come to anything in the long run."
"Sure looks like it did from where I'm sitting."
He spoke with his mouth stuffed and working the chew.She smiled sadly. A distant look filled her eyes.
"What? Things didn't go as planned?"
He sipped the coffee as the pounding in his head eased off to a mild roar.
"The accident pretty much began and ended everything at the same time."
She seemed to say it more to herself than to him.
("Accident.")
He nudged the last morsel onto the tines of the fork. "Accident?"
She came back into focus and flashed a nothing smile out of habit.
"It was Chad's eighteenth birthday. After the party he and his next door neighbor went into the bedroom so he could show him his new pistol his Daddy had given him. Whatever happened next--the gun went off. It was loaded. Chad was shot in the head."
He paused in mid-sip and slowly put the coffee cup back down with a loud clink. He looked around. Each table, each face, with interest for the first time.
"The family decided to make the Diner really happen after that. For Chad. You know, as people sometimes do. In a strange way it suddenly made sense to all of them. Carry on just the way Chad expected his life to go. They'd honor his dream. They took up a collection and started the business. Took great care to build it just as Chad had figured it should look. Well, as you can see."
She passed her hand around in a half circle airily.
He turned his head away from her as though she were bad luck. His eyes instantly fixed on the figure across the street peering back again unflinchingly this time.
"Want anything else? More coffee?"
"Uh, no. I'll be going now. Thanks."
He picked up the check and reached into his pocket for change.
The waitress was halfway into the kitchen when he turned.
As he rose from the table he looked back at the street where the creepy figure began crossing with a purpose never breaking his gaze. Heading toward Chad's Dinner!
His waitress caught up beside him at the cash register standing next to "HI! I'm Chad's Dad."
They were having words. Not an argument. Serious words.He waited patiently until he became impatient.
"I'm sorry," he interrupted them glancing back outside as the strange man stood just outside the door, "I don't seem to have brought my billfold with me. I'm very embarrassed..."
The waitress quickly turned away from him.
The "Chad's Dad" fellow quickly returned to the kitchen.
He had seemed to be upset.All the red shirts were stopped in the middle of whatever it was they had been doing. Their attention was riveted at the front of the dinner.
"Small town people must love the sight of a visitor with no money", he whispered to himself.
Finally!
"I found a five dollar bill! Whew! That was a close one."
He passed the money across the glass counter toward his waitress.She stared past him for a moment. Directing her attention out the door.
"Say, how long ago did Chad die?"
Faltering in her reach for the five dollars, the lady looked troubled and nervous.
"Chad
didn't die." She stated flatly.
Color came into her cheeks as she spoke."He was shot in the head, but,
it didn't kill him.
The...uh...after effects left him.......not quite himself any longer. He stays in a hospital next to the Visitor's Center for observation. But, according to Chad's Dad - well, occasionally he finds a way out and he has to be fetched back again.
His Dad said, Chad automatically comes here...."The front door tinkled and warm air from outside brushed past his pant legs.
Watching everybody's face gave him chill bumps as he turned and faced the door.
Heading straight for the register with a grin, the weird man stopped two feet away. Confronting him directly with a steady expression, the creep stared into his eyes.
("This is outrageous," he thought to himself.)
A weird hand reached out and touched his sleeve just as he accepted his change from the waitress.
The man from outside spoke something softly as he tightened on his arm causing the change to spill onto the floor.
"It's time to go back, Chad." The creepy guy said to him.
He froze.
His head tingled.
He reached up with whipped cream on his fingers.
The baseball cap went back on his head uncovering his scar.
His headache had returned.Suddenly, the hair went up on his neck. He was ... remembering something...
"Oh..yeah. yeah. Hi Dr. Bruce."
The doctor began guiding him gently toward the exit.
Chad licked the whipped cream from his fingers and pointed to the crowd of customers.
"Nice Diner, huh?"
______
(by T.E.Walstrom)
THE END of Chad's Diner
Partially based on a true story -
4
Interview with Russell and Rutherford (satire)
by Terry inthis interview was found amongst johannes greber's papers left in his attic and probably were the result of his wife channeling the spirits of russell and rutherford!.
q: how do you wish to be called; mr.russell...dr.russell, pastor russell?.
russell: for many years i served as a pastor although i never darkened the doorway of an institution of theology for purposes of obtaining certification in the mindset of christendom.. rutherford: you can call me judge or you can call me joe as long as you call me for supper!
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Terry
This interview was found amongst Johannes Greber's papers left in his attic and probably were the result of his wife channeling the spirits of Russell and Rutherford!
Q: How do you wish to be called; Mr.Russell...Dr.Russell, Pastor Russell?
Russell: For many years I served as a Pastor although I never darkened the doorway of an institution of theology for purposes of obtaining certification in the mindset of Christendom.
Rutherford: You can call me Judge or you can call me Joe as long as you call me for supper! ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Q: Very well. Pastor Russell and Judge Rutherford can you briefly describe your relationship?
Russell: Well, I'm dead and so is Joe. But, due to being resurrected as a spirit we live on in the capacity of disembodied beings.
Rutherford: Speak for yourself Charlie! I'm serving in an executive capacity in heaven on the board, as it were.
Q: Board? Of what?
Rutherford: Board of Directors! I direct....
Russell: He means HELPS direct...
Rutherford: I DIRECT the preaching work under the Christ Memorial division and oversee the protocols of doctrinal dissemination.
Russell: He blusters!
Rutherford: Harrumpf!!
Q: Have things changed for you since your demise and resurrection? I mean...as far as your mission in connection with Jehovah's Kingdom?
Russell: Oh my yes! So many things are clearer now than in my earthly state...
Rutherford: For instance: the first thing you discover in heaven is that God's name isn't JEHOVAH!
Q: Startling news for a Jehovah's Witness!
Russell: Not for me...I never was one; although I used "Jehovah" to reference deity.
Rutherford: At any rate....Jehovah is not the name our Lord prefers to be called. In fact, He despises the very use of it.
Q: What exactly IS the Lord's name?
Rutherford: Randolph. Jerry Randolph.
Russell: I too was shocked.
Q: How is this possible?
Rutherford: He just likes the name, that's all. He says He can call himself anything He likes and He likes Jerry Randolph!
Russell: All those Jehovah's Witnesses drive him batty talking to Him and about Him as though they play golf together.....really ticks him off.
Q: So, are we to assume Jehovah's Witnesses ARE God's ...um...Jerry's chosen people? Or, not?
Russell: Oh my no!
Rutherford: They are definitely on his shitlist! But, he doesn't blame me.
Russell: No, Jerry mainly blames old Freddy Franz. So much imagination in one little man--but, not much fact at all!
Rutherford: And----you can look around heaven all you like; you won't find Freddy anywhere!!
Q: Oh! Should we assume he is...um...in another less appealing place?
Rutherford: Oh yes! He is in Detroit!
Russell: In a very small walkup apartment without central heat and air!
Q: Whaaaat?
Rutherford: That's right. He has been set the task of reading all of L.Ron Hubbard's writings and giving a report on them to the Big Guy?
Russell: Jerry is fascinated by Scientology! He hasn't made up His mind about it yet, though. He can't understand most of it....
Rutherford: ...but, He really likes the soupcans and the Auditing aspect of it!
Q: Since you mention Scientology----this raises the question of exactly what IS the only true religion?
Russell: Oh, I asked Jerry that myself right off when I go here!
Rutherford: So did I!
Q: And......?
Russell: Jerry hasn't made up his mind yet, but, right now He is leaning toward Deepak Chopra's ideas. He likes the way Chopra dresses....and his sauve, manly suntan!
Rutherford: ...especially on Oprah!
Q: This is astounding! The Supreme Being doesn't KNOW which religion is true?
Russell: Oh, Mr.Randolph insists He is not the SUPREME being. He thinks of Diana Ross as the Supreme being.
Rutheford: Oh you dolt! Jerry was making a play on words when He said that to you! Idiot!
Q: Um....this raises more questions, naturally....
Russell: Don't call me idiot, you buffoon.
Rutherford: Kiss my pucker, whiskerboy!
Q: Gentlemen!! Gentlemen!!
Rutherford: We're NOT men anymore. I told you. We are spirits!
Q: Allright. Whatever you like. Can we move on? I'd like to know what purpose God, er uh, Jerry has for mankind. Can either of your give a detailed synopsis?
Russell: Certainly. Jerry woke up in the middle of the universe in the middle of endless eternity and decided He existed. After that, He was really bored.
Rutherford: Yes. Who wouldn't be with all that time on His hands?
Russell: So, He decided to start a hobby or two to occupy Himself.
Rutherford: And, to cut to the chase, He has been improvising ever since then!
Q: Fascinating! Go on...go on!
Russell: He began toying with..the act of creating using parts of Himself.
Rutherford: That is where his bosom companion came from that we used to think of as Michael or Logos.
Russell: Yes, but we were wrong, Joe--don't leave that out!
Rutherford: I wasn't! It was Freddy who was wrong. He wrote most of my material that didn't make any sense, you see.
Russell: Don't go scapegoating Franz, Judge. You approved of everything he wrote!
Rutherford: Hogwash! I had a magazine to fill. I needed SOMETHING to put in it; even the folderol Freddy churned out.
Q: Excuse me---are you saying that God and his...um...Logos are not part of a Trinity?
Rutheford: You can explain that one, Charlie.
Russell: Oh, thanks. Not much to explain, really, God is a really bored personality who suffers from Multiple Personality Disorder. He switches back and forth all the time.
Q: Astonishing!
Rutherford: Worse than that. Tell him, Pastor!
Russell: Yes....Jerry can't really be regarded as "sane" in the same sense that you and I are sane.
Rutherford: Speak for yourself, Pastor!
Russell: I WAS speaking for myself! Anyway, Jerry gets depressed and prickly at times. His interaction with humanity is alot like a young lad with toy soldiers to occupy his imagination.
Rutherford: Or dinosaurs! He was fascinated with all those strange concoctions for millions of years!
Russell: Yes, I forgot about that. He came up with all kinds of imaginative and scarifying inventions. Finally ended up making them fight and eat each other until even that bored him; then....
Rutherford: Then--Jerry sent a huge asteroid to crash into Earth and He started all over.
Russell: Yes, with HUMANS!
Rutherford: But, that was as He was maturing a bit. Humanity was a more refined game.
Russell: Hardly that!
Q: Are you saying God did not have the divine purpose stated in the Bible that was temporarily thwarted by man's SIN??
Rutherford: You can think what you like, but; Jerry told me He was just making everything up as He went along.
Russell: Jerry use to love talking to mankind or putting a good scare into them.
Rutherford: Or, impressing them with miracles and wonders!
Russell: Or getting really angry with them when they failed to play the game the way Jerry wanted!
Rutherford: Oh boy--did He ever get angry!!
Q: Are you saying the Bible isn't true, or; that it is not fully accurate?
Russell: The bible is mainly a guess and a lot of fill in the blanks.
Rutherford: Yes, unfortunately for the True Believers there isn't much substance there after all.
Q: Amazing!
Russell: Sigh. Yes, all those theology students may as well be partying it up.
Q: So then, there is no Hell either?
Rutherford: Oh YES there is! But, it isn't what humans think it is!
Q: Explain, please?
Russell: It isn't a place of eternal burning. It is a state of continual seeking to make sense of who God is and what He wants mankind to do. Actually, Jerry doesn't have a clue what He really wants to do.
Rutherford: Yes, He seems to be sulking right now. He won't even talk to humans.
Russell: Not entirely or precisely accurate, Judge! What the Judge fails to tell you is that Jerry sometimes will whisper "inspirations" into men's ears and convince them of this or that to start a new religion going and see what kind of marvellous ideas they come up with.
Rutherford: Like hiring scriptwriters for a movie.
Russell: I suppose you could say that.
Q: Such as?
Rutherford: He really liked what Muhammed did with some the ideas Jerry gave him. Went out and conquered most of the world.
Russell: But, Joseph Smith was a favorite for awhile too, don't forget.
Rutherford: Not as much as you were, Pastor. Don't be modest!
Russell: Oh my---well, I suppose I should be straightforward and admit I was a favorite of His for awhile.
Rutherford: Not JUST you! He really liked my style too.....for awhile!
Q: Are you both saying that God.....er...Jerry has set into motion first one religion and then another and another all through history JUST TO OCCUPY HIS MIND and prevent boredom---but--that He tires of all of them???
Rutherford: I'd say that's pretty much it.
Russell: Yes, time is really nagging at Jerry. He is very sick of it!
Rutherford: Even tried to commit suicide back in the day.
Q: WHAAAT? WHEN?
Russell: You know the story---He got Himself crucified!
Rutherford: Tried every way He could to get Himself done in! That Pontius Pilate was annoying the hell out of Jerry trying to get Him acquitted.
Q: I can't believe what I'm hearing! Jerry was Jesus?
Russell: Just one aspect of Jerry's Multiple Personality Syndrome.
Rutherford: Jesus was killed. Now the other aspects of Jerry's infinite imagination memorialize Him by pretending Jesus is still alive.
Russell: That is oversimplifying! It is more complicated than that.
Q: Explain.....that is....if you can.
Russell: Jerry is depressed, confused, bored and pretty unstable. He has done everything there is to do to keep His sanity by staying busy. But, like most superintelligent egos---He tires easily of the same old same old.
Rutherford: That is true! Then, He starts messing with what He has going and confuses the hell out of people, animals and Earth itself!
Q: I just don't know what to make of this.....I don't know what else to ask.....so much to think about and reflect upon.....
Russell: I'm surprised you didn't ask about Satan!
Q: OH! Yes, please tell me---is there a real devil?
Rutherford: Nobody knows for sure. Nobody has ever seen the devil. We only hear rumors from the angels that all is not as it seems.
Russell: Yes, most angels will not discuss Him-whose-name-must-not-be-mentioned without trembling.
Rutherford: My own opinion is that this is just another of Jerry's darker personality disorders at play.
Russell: Perhaps....perhaps.....difficult to surmise.
Q: I think after this conversation I know even less than I did before it began. Have the two of you been involved in any SANE aspects of the Preaching work among the group Jehovah's Witnesses?
Russell: Yes, I write "New Light" doctrines and Joe changes them!
Rutherford: Ha ha ha ha---that's a good one. ha ha ha ha.
Q: Is that true?
Rutherford: Certainly not. I suspect Freddy is in charge of that.
Q: And Fred Franz is where?
Russell: Nobody knows....but...strangely----whenever Freddy is mentioned all the angels tremble..........
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22
What is REALLY behind the destruction of the Postal Service? I decided to research it ...
by Terry ini don't know about you - but i never know when i'm being lied to or told the truth any longer.
partisans are tribes warring on truth.
i decided to see what i could find out historically and this is what i've come up with.
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Terry
That's a great answer to a question nobody asked :)
Now that a few days have passed - the story in the news has now devolved into an investigation of mismanagement.
I miss the days of frantic headlines about the "little rocket man" in N. Korea :)
It's hard to sell good news.
