Terry

Joined

• started 1,983 topics
• posted 18,429 times   see topics posted on
• send a message

Posts by Terry

• 
  11

  Memory and memorization

  by Terry in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  3.1415926535807932384626433i used to be able to go to a hundred from memory.

  my son and daughter can do so.age 75 has cheated me a bit in this regard.what sort of things have you memorized (whether useful or useless)?i can recite the entire rime of the ancient mariner to this day, btw.there are many so-called tricks for remembering things that can be easily learned and i've read all or most of those books.the amusing thing about such memory is this: nobody cares!

  "why do you need to memorize when you can just use your iphone?sigh...i memorized the periodic table of elements one day at work.

  1. 
  2. 
  3. 
• 

  Terry

  3.1415926535807932384626433
  
  I used to be able to go to a hundred from memory. My son and daughter can do so.
  Age 75 has cheated me a bit in this regard.
  
  What sort of things have you memorized (whether useful or useless)?
  
  I can recite the entire Rime of the Ancient Mariner to this day, btw.
  
  There are many so-called tricks for remembering things that can be easily learned and I've
  read all or most of those books.
  The amusing thing about such memory is this: nobody cares!
  "Why do you need to memorize when you can just use your iPhone?
  
  Sigh...
  I memorized the Periodic Table of Elements one day at work. I've never used that. :)
  I memorized 825 Bible verses when I was a JW.
  The more you do these sorts of things the stronger the impression sets into the cement.
  If you do NOT use it - losses begin to occur. Hard drive space is conserved, I suppose.
  
  I can recite Gilbert and Sullivan: I Am the very model of a Modern English Gentleman from
  the Pirates of Penzance but people flee the room when I begin.
  
  I can recite the alphabet backward in less than ten seconds.
  Mind you - this has nothing to do with intelligence. Simply a capacity and skill.
  
  I can do the Professor Harold Hill patter: TROUBLE from the Music Man and enjoy doing so
  just as self-entertainment.
  
  I love tongue twisters: THE SILENT SEA CEASETH AND THUS SUFFICETH US.
  RUBBER BABY BUGGY BUMPER
  BLACK BUG'S BLOOD
  My favorite of all is the ANNOUNCER'S TEST which Jerry Lewis would do every year
  on the March of Dimes telethon for M.S.
  
  
  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=06D1F5-4Atc
  
  One hen
  Two ducks
  Three squawking geese
  Four limerick oysters
  Five corpulent porpoises
  Six pairs of Don Alversos tweezers
  Seven thousand Macedonians in full battle array
  Eight brass monkeys from the ancient sacred crypts of Egypt
  Nine apathetic, sympathetic, diabetic, old men on roller skates with a marked propensity towards procrastination and sloth
  Ten lyrical, spherical diabolical denizens of the deep who hall stall around the corner of the quo of the quay of the quivery, all at the same time.
  I added a few of my own:
  Eleven silent, silver, Soviet submarines, stealthily surveying some sunken city near San Salvador.
  
  
• 
  4

  INDOCTRINATION (lessons learned)

  by Terry in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  indoctrination.

  i see things this way .... my very first personal contact with indoctrination was through my best friend; hellbent on converting me to his religion.

  i resisted for four years and then jumped on board.. .

  1. 
  2. 
  3. 
• 

  Terry

  I'd venture to guess MOST conversions take place due to friendships rather than cold calls.
  Being "born in" doesn't count as a conversion (although at age of consent - the fight begins).
  
  NOTICE THE IMPRESSION from an OUTSIDER is not at all favorable in this video:
  
  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rhrMOHv06Uw
• 
  4

  INDOCTRINATION (lessons learned)

  by Terry in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  indoctrination.

  i see things this way .... my very first personal contact with indoctrination was through my best friend; hellbent on converting me to his religion.

  i resisted for four years and then jumped on board.. .

  1. 
  2. 
  3. 
• 

  Terry

  INDOCTRINATION

  I see things this way ...

  My very first personal contact with indoctrination was through my best friend; hellbent on converting me to his religion. (I was 12.)

  I resisted for four years and then jumped on board.

  A lesson to be learned, I'd say!

  Not the one you'd think, however.

  Resistance is futile.

  Here's why...

  Think what happened when Hannibal challenged the might of Rome and its legions.

  He defeated them time after time. Horrible one-sided victories they were.

  But - take note of this! Each time the Roman Generals lost, they did a big RE-think ... and tried again.

  And they'd lose. Again.

  Rome was not a seafaring empire but they built a fleet of ships just so they could invade Carthage.

  An unlucky storm at sea destroyed all those ships and sailors!

  There was only one winning strategy that might work.

  Rome stopped fighting and retired their remaining forces behind the walls and watched Hannibal and his armies circle and circle hurling challenges on deaf ears.

  What kind of lesson to learn is that, Terry?

  Hannibal was inadvertently forcing Rome's military and political intelligentsia to become smarter, wiser, and more cunning!

  Hannibal, on the other hand, learned nothing by defeating the inferior strategies of Rome's best fighting forces.

  (Eventually, Scipio attacked by land - not Hannibal, but Carthage which was Hannibal's native land! Using Hannibal's own key stratagem, Scipio stationed his army on the high ground.)

  RESISTANCE is futile. You make your adversary stronger and smarter.

  In my own situation, I showed all my weaknesses to my best friend and he simply switched his method of confrontation from Theology to Family.

  The cult he was in offered me a close-knit group of welcoming Brothers and Sisters and Friends.

  I needed that emotionally so badly I jumped on board at a cost of 20 years of my life.

  When I jumped back out, I lost all those "friends" and the "family" wouldn't speak to me again.

  WHO WON?

  I can only say this one thing with all my heart. I got smarter, more skeptical, and more cunning when it came to INDOCTRINATION methods.

  I take a neutral position between the extremes and I listen, watch, research, and keenly analyze what's said and done.

  I stay walled up in the city while the armies outside rage and challenge me to join in or be vanquished.

  Confrontation is not the End Game (as in chess) - no - it is simply THE END - of everything.

  When you join forces with anybody or anything except your own mind and heart and intellect, you weaken yourself and stop learning and growing.

  That's MY lesson. Your mileage may vary.
• 
  2

  A Most Curious Tale of Archie Oliver Twist

  by Terry in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  a most curious tale of archie oliver twist.

  11 years old, archie olivertwist passed into a coma on june 7, 1942. his neck was broken from a dive into a shallow riverbed at a family picnic.. archie was maintained in a vegetative state in a long-term care facility.

  hoping against all hope, his maintenance costs were paid by his parents.. half a century later, in the mid-1990s, they specified in their will that his brother and sister were bound by honor toward archie's continued care, using a trust fund established for that purpose.. miraculously, he finally awoke on january 16, 2017, archie was now 85.. oh, one more thing …(brace your mind for this…).

  1. 
  2. 
• 

  Terry

  It does me too!
• 
  21

  Ministry in John 3:16

  by JW Answers in

  1. watchtower
  2. bible

  a lot of false teaching darkens our doors today, especially with watchtower teachings, calvinism and lordship salvation.. latest video below explores the verse john 3:16 and shows forth the truths which christ preached to nicodemus.

  the jws also spread fear amongst their followers stating that if the leave the org, then jehovah will strike them down at armageddon.

  this video covers this same fear.. feel free to watch below..

  1. 
  2. 
  3. 
• 

  Terry

  
  HERE IS SOMETHING TO CONSIDER AS AN ANALOGY to this TOPIC...
  

  
  Thalidomide was once considered a wonder drug.
  
  During early testing, researchers found it was virtually impossible to give test animals a lethal dose of the drug named THALIDOMIDE in the 1950s.
  Thalidomide was soon used as a sedative or tranquilizer treating a wide range of other conditions, including colds, flu, nausea, and morning sickness in pregnant women.
  
  Pharmaceutical companies boasted Thalidomide “can be given with complete safety to pregnant women and nursing mothers without adverse effect on mother or child.
  
  49 countries widely prescribed Thalidomide under several alternate brand names.
  
  It is estimated that over 10,000 babies were affected by the drug worldwide. Around half died within months of being born. The thalidomide babies who survived and their families live with the birth defects of the drug.
  
  All the above has been stated - here comes the ANALOGY.
  
  GOD permitted the distribution of birth defects (sin from Adam) as though He (YHWH) were ignorant of the damage in advance. As JWs teach: "God does not permit Himself to know certain things in advance." If we are to accept that deliberate ignorance, the results of transmission of the "sin of Adam" in subsequent offspring (Cain murders Abel) made it clear enough.
  
  So - what point am I making?
  
  The pharmaceutical company (in Germany) made reparations to victims as a result of a worldwide lawsuit.
  
  Cash was paid and no single person was held responsible. I
  guess you could say, Ignorance is bliss as long as cash is paid.
  
  Jehovah paid reparations to mankind and His "cash" was Jesus. Those who accept the payout are compensated. Those who don't are left in the lurch.
  
  Not a perfect analogy by any means but you may wish to comment.
  
  
  https://www.sciencemuseum.org.uk/objects-and-stories/medicine/thalidomide#:~:text=Thalidomide%20is%20a%20drug%20that,morning%20sickness%20in%20pregnant%20women.

  
  
• 
  2

  A Most Curious Tale of Archie Oliver Twist

  by Terry in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  a most curious tale of archie oliver twist.

  11 years old, archie olivertwist passed into a coma on june 7, 1942. his neck was broken from a dive into a shallow riverbed at a family picnic.. archie was maintained in a vegetative state in a long-term care facility.

  hoping against all hope, his maintenance costs were paid by his parents.. half a century later, in the mid-1990s, they specified in their will that his brother and sister were bound by honor toward archie's continued care, using a trust fund established for that purpose.. miraculously, he finally awoke on january 16, 2017, archie was now 85.. oh, one more thing …(brace your mind for this…).

  1. 
  2. 
• 

  Terry

  A Most Curious Tale of Archie Oliver Twist

  11 years old, Archie OliverTwist passed into a coma on June 7, 1942. His neck was broken from a dive into a shallow riverbed at a family picnic.

  Archie was maintained in a vegetative state in a long-term care facility. Hoping against all hope, his maintenance costs were paid by his parents.

  Half a century later, in the mid-1990s, they specified in their will that his brother and sister were bound by honor toward Archie's continued care, using a trust fund established for that purpose.

  Miraculously, he finally awoke on January 16, 2017, Archie was now 85.

  Oh, one more thing …(brace your mind for this…)

  He woke up as he was being delivered by an obstetrician in Mercy General Hospital in Northern Virginia. (I’ll pause while you re-read that last bit.)

  Archibald Oliver Twist’s life was somehow being recycled. As an infant, Archie maintained full consciousness, very confused, alarmed, and unable to speak for the next two years.

  It gets even weirder now. Are we ready?

  His (new) parents, unaccountably, named him Archibald after his ‘father’s’ favorite writer, Archibald McLeish. They considered him an amazing genius not realizing that their child’s mind was nearing 90 years of age.

  Poor Archie was possessed of the memories of an eleven-year-old child, many of which were associated with the second world war, and with comic book predictions of the future, as portrayed through characters like Flash Gordon and Buck Rogers.

  As Archibald emerged from his confusion and grew anew as a child once more, a speech pathologist helped him utter a few words. His limited vocabulary and hand gestures allowed a basic conversation to occur.

  As is now reported in the Journals of Resuscitation and Extended Life Maintenance,

  Archie was not as amazed by modern-day contrivances as one might expect.

  Cell phones and television, for example, had their equivalents in his library of comic books. Likewise, a laptop computer, while interesting, was well within his comprehension.

  He was more mystified by objects made of flimsy plastic tossed away after a single use such as his drinking cup and numerous plastic baggies which were quite alien, to him.

  His appetite was quite good, but care had to be taken to make sure his gut flora was able to handle solid food consumed in the normal way.

  Why? (This is important to understand - pay attention.)

  His mind, although housed in a child’s brain, had been configured to accommodate a vegetative, aging body of an old man. The conflict caused many transformative complications. Try to imagine dropping a Model T Ford engine inside a Ferrari race car.

  When he finally reached the age of 11, Archibald (now called “Archie”) revealed what he was able to piece together about himself to his shocked and disbelieving parents.
  His persistence in self-investigation uncovered almost the whole story. So earnest and intense were the boy’s efforts, his family gradually began to make room for his weird story as something other than delusion. This wasn’t easy for them by any stretch of the imagination.
  
  Then one day …

  An astonishing breakthrough took place when his new mom phoned surviving family members of Archie’s previous incarnation, in hopes of resolving these improbable conflicts.

  A reunion was staged immediately!

  Archie was reassured by gestures of love and affection, expressed by his counselor and by young great nephews who had been flown in to be with him.

  So as to bring him "up to speed" temporally, illustrated calendars had been prepared, including materials from the school he had attended, baseball cards of his era, old newspaper clippings and similar relics. His memory was good, so he was able to recall some of his prior birthdays, the family car, various outings, and the always-present reminders to conserve for the war effort.

  Moving beyond these memories, to the days after the onset of his long nap, he was gradually given a "fam tour" of the years leading up to the present. Among his favorite pastimes was listening to recordings of the radio shows from his youth.

  It was most difficult for him to comprehend the passing of his parents, who, in his last memories had been quite alive and vibrant. The concept of death, itself, was something with which he was not fully conversant. Archie was a Catholic, so Catholic spiritual counselors were brought in to answer his many questions. His church, St. Michael's, was still standing and had an active membership, from which he took some reassurance. A local Jesuit priest steeped in Buddhist philosophy counseled him. Archie was unable to absorb any of these things. Instead, he focused on making his present life as meaningful as possible.

  Yet, some complications remained troubling.

  Archie the very old man in a young man’s body was becoming aware of sensations in his genital area, with the rapid onset of puberty. This was difficult, for he found that he was most often aroused by youngsters in their early to mid-teens. The affiliation seemed natural enough, to him, but adjusting to age-appropriate contact was a great challenge. Nonetheless, he was possessed of an adult brain, even if the content was restricted to his youthful recollections and such new data as was being introduced. Somehow, Archie was an intrinsically elderly man in ways beyond his comprehension. The balance of his mind was disturbed ever more so.

  Every road has a turning and one fine day Archie was introduced to Greta, a woman in her 60s who was pleasingly youthful in her appearance and with whom he was quite taken. The feelings were mutual, and a satisfying relationship blossomed.

  Many adjustments continued throughout their peculiar relationship. Little by little, he opened up to this remarkable woman. Slowly he confessed what haunted his every waking moment--the loss of his family and friends in a way impossible to mourn or escape. She listened and pretended to believe and accept the unbelievable and unacceptable story as he shared it. Yet, Greta realized too late, she had fallen in love with someone who was completely unable to move on in life. Could anything be worse for her? Life has many trade-off, does it not?

  After a few years, Archie was stricken with an infection from which no recovery was possible; his immune system, so long protected from modern-day pathogens, was simply unable to mount a life-saving defense.
  Greta refused the responsibility of caregiving and ended their relationship, trying her best not to create ill will. Torn between her own sanity preservation and best interests on the one hand and an ethical commitment to Archie - her decision was made with tears of finality. When it is time to move on …well…to not do so is a kind of death in itself.

  Naturally, Archie was distraught and he began drinking — his next longtime girlfriend had moved out and she called police when he threw her things into the front yard — but he held no hostages, brandished no weapons, and, so far as we have learned, posed no serious threat either to the police or to public order. (Archie did own guns, he apparently shared this news with police.)

  What happened next is unclear due to several conflicting stories by officers called to the scene.

  It was reported that Archie had been firing his weapon into the air and cursing at neighbors. Those neighbors watching from their windows gave contradictory testimony. There was only the sound of a single gunshot.

  Wounded in the chest, Archie was left to bleed to death inside his doorway while police officers, remaining outside the house, did nothing for an hour. Five and a half hours after the shooting, his body remained sprawled on the floor where he died.
  
  

  Incredibly, the authorities in Northern Virginia — including Fairfax County police and state and federal prosecutors — have refused to furnish any explanation for this stupefying sequence of events during the last hours of Aug. 29 in Springfield.

  They stonewalled.

  Local newspaper reporter Clive Beardsley refused to give up his source for a story he had written which his newspaper refused to publish in which County Medical Examiners discovered something unprecedented during the autopsy.

  Subsequently, the body had been ordered cremated before any follow-up could produce corroboration.

  In a later interview with Greta, Clive Beardsley asked if there had been any advance sign of mental illness in her significant other.

  She is reported to have replied:

  “He insisted I abort my pregnancy. He was worried something would happen to him on the day our baby was born--something ridiculous.”

  When pressed for details, she only mumbled something about fear of reincarnation.

  Oh, one more thing …

  That same afternoon of the shooting...

  Archie Oliver Twist woke up …

  as he was being delivered by an obstetrician in Mercy General Hospital in Northern Virginia. His life was somehow recycled. He maintained full consciousness, confused, alarmed, and unable to speak for the next two years.

  This was the beginning and end and beginning of what could possibly be seen as…

  …the rarest of all stories.

  One with a Twist Beginning.

  ________

  
  
  
  An old Irish Song
  
  There once was a man named Michael Finn-egan,

  He grew whiskers on his chin-again,

  The wind came up and blew them in-again,

  Poor old Michael Finnegan.
  Begin-again.

  There once was a man named Michael Finn-egan,

  He kicked up an awful din-igan.

  Because they said he must not sin again.

  Poor old Michael Finnegan.
  Begin-again.

  There once was a man named Michael Finn-egan,

  Ran a race and tried to win again.

  Got so puffed that he had to go in again.

  Poor old Michael Finnegan.
  Begin-again.

  There once was a man named Michael Finn-egan,

  He drank through all his good gin again.

  And so he wasted all his tin again,

  Poor old Michael Finnegan.
  Begin again.

  There once was a man named Michael Finn-egan,

  He went fishing with a pin again.

  He caught a fish but dropped it in again,

  Poor old Michael Finnegan.
  Begin again.

  There once was a man named Michael Finn-egan,

  Climbed a tree and barked his shin-igan,

  Took off several yards of skin-igan,

  Poor old Michael Finnegan.
  Begin-again.

  There once was a man named Michael Finn-egan,

  He grew fat and then grew thin again.

  Then he died and had to begin again.

  Poor old Michael Finnegan.
  
  The end (again)
• 
  5

  Was PARADISE really paradise?

  by Terry in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  paradise.

  was it really paradise to be in paradise?

  adam and eve never were held by a mother, never cuddled and sung to with a lullaby nor nursed or coddled with tenderness or any human familial embrace.

  1. 
  2. 
  3. 
• 

  Terry

  The same could be said of God, it takes only a moment to realize.
  To be a CREATOR one must have created. It follows that BEFORE "In the beginning.." there was
  an eternity of "...before...the beginning" as applies to the creation of created things.
  
  ALONENESS is a stunning situation to contemplate for...GOD.
  We must not conflate infinity with eternity. Time began with creation and eternity proceeded to infinity.
  We are quick to posit an "already there" God. Otherwise, God must have a beginning and we can't let that happen - it violates the fundamental definition of who/what God is.
  
  Let us use a number line as a quick sketch (i.e. ...-5,-4, -3, -2, -1, 0, +1, +2, +3, +4, +5 ...)
  There are as many numbers on the -negative side of zero 0 as on the positive side.
  Heck - there are as many fractions between those digits as well! Infinite numbers in every direction.
  So what?
  God doesn't float at zero, able to remember the infinity BEFORE creation.
  Before He was a Creator He simply...what? Simply existed?
  All of this is, of course, PHILOSOPHY 101 and we need not exercise our imagination.
  
  If any point is to be made about Paradise or Creation or the Creator it is this point.
  We simply have all this dumped on our plate as kids.
  Take it or leave it. (Consequences for leaving it, of course).
  
  I find it necessary to question all this divinely bestowed "data" with as clear a mind free of prejudices as I can muster.
  That's probably unlikely.
  
  I could never wrap my mind around life in Heaven praising Jah eternally because it made no sense - UNLESS God was driven mad all those eons ago and His supernal Aloneness made Him crave companies of angelic and human praisers, worshippers, subjected fans.
  
  Your mileage may vary, of course.
• 
  5

  Was PARADISE really paradise?

  by Terry in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  paradise.

  was it really paradise to be in paradise?

  adam and eve never were held by a mother, never cuddled and sung to with a lullaby nor nursed or coddled with tenderness or any human familial embrace.

  1. 
  2. 
  3. 
• 

  Terry

  PARADISE

  Was it really paradise to be in paradise?
  
  

  Adam and Eve never were held by a mother, never cuddled and sung to with a lullaby nor nursed or coddled with tenderness or any human familial embrace. None at all.
  
  

  The first humans (Adam and Eve) never learned to toddle surrounded by brothers, sisters, aunts and uncles and grandparents cheering them on. The entire experience of childhood was excised surgically like a trauma patient awakening from an accident with amnesia.
  
  

  Adam and Eve were never in a neighborhood with other kids forming friendship bonds for life and exchanging dreams and hopes for a future they were building in their community. There was no playing with dolls with her friends, no trips to the beach, or picnics with school chums. Hell--there was no kindergarten, elementary school, Jr. High proms, dances, football games, or ballet lessons.

  Adam and Eve didn't learn nursery rhymes or sit in their Daddy's lap and read bedtime stories or get tucked in and kissed goodnight.
  
  

  Adam woke up naked and stranded among animals with no companion and only invisible voices directing him.

  Like a blind man in social darkness completely deprived of human touch, this man somehow had to fit in fully conscious and with no memory of life experience.
  
  

  He did not grow up among little girls or lovely teens or older women in a natural life cycle of beauty and age.

  He never saw his Mommy kiss his Daddy. THERE WAS NO MOMMY. Daddy was invisible.

  What love might mean between human people was never modeled in front of his eyes.
  Sure, Adam saw beasts rutting!

  How traumatizing!
  
  

  There were no cartoons, storybooks, or fairytales (except the one he was living in.)

  He did not select a choice of mates among many women along the way nor enjoy the attention of those vying for his notice. Adam's only selection was beasts of the field!

  Alone.
  
  

  Adam was surgically anesthetized and his own body rummaged for spare parts.

  He awoke to the only human he'd ever seen: Eve. Obviously a clone (i.e. also a man if you follow the science.)

  What being a man or woman IS naturally follows from the experience acquired as an infant, toddler, teen, young adult, and such.
  
  

  The first "marriage" (where was the ceremony recorded?) was an arranged mating with no choice involved and certainly no selection. Adam "chose" his own rib to marry! Yipes.

  How is this being HUMAN at all?
  
  

  Is it any wonder their first and most important choices were dysfunctional?

  I mean: really? Is this PARADISE or just bad writing?
  
  Somebody (way way back then) just didn't think this through.
• 

  A story for October: THE CURSED BLESSING

  by Terry in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  there’s a psychic reader across the street, madame lenya kasparian.

  before we begin - i have two questions for you.. first: do you steal people’s pets and charge them money to return them?

  did you do that, madame lenya?.

• 

  Terry

  THE CURSED BLESSING

  ____________
  
  

  New in town, sir?

  
  

  Pardon?

  
  

  Oh. Sorry - I saw you looking at that travel guide and um …

  
  

  Uh-huh. It’s all new to me …is there a YWCA in this city?

  
  

  Well. What is that YW-thing you said?

  
  

  Are you serious? How old are you? Young Women’s Christian Association.
  A charitable place for troubled women who -

  
  

  Yes - sorry about that, sir. We do! It’s the Battered Women’s Shelter on Barton St. behind The Olde Bakery on Elm.

  
  

  Who said anything about ‘battered women’? Nevermind. I’m looking for my sister.

  She’s been missing eleven months.

  
  

  Oh! Perhaps the Police…?

  
  

  Forget that! I gave up on them a year ago. I know I’ll find her if she isn’t dead.

  
  

  That’s awful. I don’t know what to tell you. Hire a detective…have you tried that?

  
  

  Waste of my money. I spent plenty on an ex-cop who kept yanking my chain until I asked to see receipts and proof he was doing anything. He wasn’t.

  
  

  I never introduced myself. I’m Billy Ray Barton. I’m in the Chamber of Commerce. We try to help strangers and – I thought maybe -

  
  

  Hold it right there, Billy Ray. You already told me. Let’s not go in a circle. Just tell me

  Where the YMCA is and I’ll go from there. If you don’t know, just say so.

  
  

  Sure. But - um…do you have a photograph of your sister? And you never told me your name…

  
  

  I’m Francis Cowl and this is my sister’s photo.

  
  

  Let me put on my glasses. Okay. Let me see. Are you two twins?

  
  

  Certainly not.

  
  

  Strong family resemblance. That’s all. What’s her name?

  How old is she?

  
  

  We don’t look anything alike! Her name is Frances. Different spelling, of course.

  She is the same as I am, 32 years old.

  ---

  
  

  I’m curious - mind if I ask …?

  
  

  Now listen, Billy Ray…I find you to be annoying. You’re butting in and not helpful.

  Go away!

  
  

  You’re upset. Here’s a thought. There’s a Psychic Reader across the street, Madame Lenya Kasparian. What have you got to lose? She found my cat for me.

  I can see from your expression I’d better run along now.

  Best of Luck to you!

  
  

  Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out

  _______
  
  

  I’m Madame Kasparian. I am here to help you.

  Be seated. You must relax. Remove your shoes if you like.

  I don’t want you to pay me anything.

  Not unless I help you find your cat.

  That will cost you $200 dollars. Understood?
  
  

  I’m not looking for a damned cat. My sister is missing.

  If you help me find her - I’ll pay you a thousand dollars cash! Understood?

  
  

  Of course. Of course. I sense that now. I feel it deeply.

  A strong aura of pain - of despair - hanging over you following you everywhere you go.

  Shall we begin?

  
  

  Before we begin - I have two questions for you.

  First: Do you steal people’s pets and charge them money to return them?

  Second: Did Billy Bob just call you to say I’m a referral?
  
  

  (Sigh) My husband steals neighborhood animals. And yes - I kick back $25 to Billy Ray

  if you pay me. Straight up. Now shall we begin?
  
  

  But your confession leaves me without any confidence at all that you have mysterious powers that can return my sister - unless, of course - you kidnapped her.

  Did you do that, Madame Lenya?

  
  

  Certainly not. It is my husband who runs that side of things.

  My powers are very real. I told you the truth because I would be cursed if I lied about this.

  My mother was a famous Reader in the Old Country. Her mother before her. I’m the seventh daughter of a seventh son. My powers are real.

  Now tell me everything or get out.

  Your choice.

  
  

  I’m not gullible. I am desperate.

  Yes. Let’s begin. Here is a photograph of Frances. She is 32 years old.

  I last saw her almost a year ago. The police do nothing without a corpse to inspire them, I suppose. A detective cheated me out of his retainer and I refused to pay him his fee when he couldn’t prove he’d not been sitting on his ass and stringing me along.

  Now - how do we do this?

  
  

  If you were gullible - and you claim you are not - I’d turn the lights down and use my crystal ball. I’d light incense. I’d go into a trance. But none of that is necessary. Not with an agnostic person. Why waste my acting talents on non-belief? Place your hands on the table, palms down, and look straight into my eyes. I’m going to hypnotize you.

  
  

  It may be possible - but - okay. I’m exhausted. I will go along and follow your suggestions.

  Your name, sir?

  Francis

  Your sister’s name?

  Frances. Spelled differently, of course.

  Look into my eyes and do your best NOT to BLINK. Repeat after me…

  “Isten zaklatott gyermeke vagyok, és a nővéremet keresem”

  
  

  I don’t know what the hell you are saying!

  
  

  Repeat the sounds. The meaning is unimportant.

  The message isn’t for you.

  It is for …them. The spirits.

  
  

  Oh - well, sure. If it’s for “the spirits”. Go ahead. Say it again. Please.

  
  

  “Isten zaklatott gyermeke vagyok, és a nővéremet keresem”

  __________
  _____________

  
  
  

  Oh - Mr. Francis! You’re back. Was Lenya able to help you?

  Actually, yes.

  Outstanding! That’s great to hear.

  That’s why I’m back. I told her I’d pay your referral fee. Here it is.

  Oh? Well - I’m embarrassed. But not so embarrassed that I won’t accept the cash, of course.

  Of course. Here’s your money. How is your cat?

  
  

  Clementine is just fine. I had given up searching till …well -

  Madame Lenya really knows what she’s doing. Glad she was able to help you.

  
  

  I bet you are. But - well... Nevermind.

  
  

  No - tell me. What is it?

  I shouldn’t say.

  Go ahead. What is it?

  Clementine wasn’t really lost at all. That’s a fact.

  Lenya’s husband stole your cat.

  I ought to turn her in to the police.

  
  

  But - she could curse you!

  So, let’s just chalk it up to a learning experience. Both of us.

  
  

  Curses are bullshit. She should be in jail - stealing pets for ransom!

  
  

  Some curses are real - if - if you want to hear about it.

  
  

  How so?

  
  

  Sit down and listen.

  ______________
  _______
  ____
  
  
  

  Last year I decided I would kill myself. I was deeply depressed.
  Therapists were no help. Pills were their idea of problem-solving.
  Nothing solves a problem like pills - right?

  A big handful solves all problems.
  
  

  What was the cause of your…? I mean - if you don’t mind saying?
  
  

  A feeling of Alienation. That’s a psychiatric word.

  I never fit in. Not in school. Not among friends. I had a dark secret I couldn’t share.

  I mentioned suicide to my therapist - I got locked up. All for ‘my own good’.
  So they said.
  
  

  That’s awful. I’m sorry.
  
  

  I wised up. The only way out was to convince my doctors I was feeling better.

  I’d seen the light. Fit as a fiddle. Fake it till you make it, right?

  
  

  Not really. No. Not in my experience.

  
  

  I was released and given a nice prescription for a week’s worth of - what else?

  Powerful pills. I was able to assure them I’d call a hotline if I ever had dark thoughts again. I headed home to do the deed. I passed a Fortune Teller sign like the one Madame Lenya has across the street.

  
  

  Interesting…a family franchise, perhaps.

  
  
  It was strictly Halloween. Phony baloney. Or...so I thought.

  
  

  Meaning?

  
  

  The Madame or Witch - asked me curious questions and then concluded
  I was under a curse!

  The curse could only be cured if I wrote my darkest secrets on a slip of paper - and then - Madame the Witch would babble incantations and burn the slip of paper.

  That’s when I’d be cured - if - I PAID for the ritual in cash.
  
  

  Sounds familiar, did it work?
  
  

  I wrote my secrets and she burned them.

  Don’t ask me why but I laughed at her and then I ran out.

  She must have sent her husband or brother - whatever - over to my apartment
  to collect...

  but he found me sprawled on the floor with the empty bottle of pills.
  
  

  What a tragic story!
  
  

  I woke up in the Emergency Room.
  
  

  I don’t understand - the Fortune Tellers’ husband saved your life? Why would he?

  
  

  I thought about that.

  After I left, she had obviously read the slip of paper (having burnt a fake one).
  Half of my secret was suicide. You know how police are - suspicious. Right?

  After the Emergency Ward…

  I wasn’t let out of lock-up (for my own good) for almost half a year after that second attempt.

  
  

  And - the curse is what?

  
  

  I figure it was the fact I woke up extremely confused.

  I had a terrible feeling.

  About my sister. I couldn’t shake it off…the dread!

  
  

  You thought those awful people had -what? Kidnapped her?

  
  

  I’ve said too much already. Why tempt fate now?

  
  

  Of course, you’re scared. If they kidnapped her what else are they capable of doing?

  
  

  Don’t let your imagination run away with you! I said none of that.

  
  

  I feel responsible for referring you to that - that Witch.

  I’m terribly sorry.

  
  

  (Sigh) You are a stranger. It’s all out in the open now.

  Why shouldn’t I unburden myself?

  You see - my sister never went missing.

  
  

  Say what? Did you murder her? Did they murder her?

  
  

  Slow down. You don’t know me…
  I came from a fundamentalist family. Strict upbringing.

  I lived as an outsider inside my family.

  I pretended I had a sister, privately.

  I needed a confidante and I told her my true feelings.

  It’s not all that crazy, really.

  Don't all children talk to their Teddy bears or dolls - or imaginary friends?

  Eventually, I actually believed she was real.

  It wasn’t me who was lost - oh no -

  It was my imaginary sister instead!

  It gave me a purpose - a noble quest - a reason to live!

  
  

  What are you telling me?
  Madame Lenya hypnotized you and you realized there is no sister?

  
  
  
  

  More shocking. I suddenly faced self-revelation:

  I AM my sister!

  I was never a Brother. Not really. Inside my soul - I AM her.

  I had run away from everything -

  Even myself. My curse was in ever thinking I was ME.

  
  

  I’m no witch doctor but - it sounds like your curse has been removed

  and - oh I don't know, I'm out of my depth.

  
  

  I may not know who I am exactly - but I do know who I am not.

  
  

  Great things have small beginnings, don't they?

  Think of it as simply …the beginning of…FREEDOM.

  It's like that song, isn't it? Me and Bobby McGee...

  "Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose."

  A mixed blessing.

  
  

  Why not split the difference and say -
  a cursed blessing ...

  __________

  The End

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  53

  PIMO Bethel Elder Has Special Message & Speaks out

  by Newly Enlightened in

  1. watchtower
  2. beliefs

  a pimo elder at bethel has come forward with a special message posted on reddit.. https://www.reddit.com/gallery/v9mgao.

  the dated pictures attached are "proof conclusive" that this is for real.

  no outside guests are allowed inside bethel at this time.

  1. 
  2. 
  3. 
• 

  Terry

  This may clarify a bit:
  
  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JG6PjU7X27I&t=667s