I'm experimenting with posts of varying content as to whether anybody stops to read them.
Only very few of my essays, poems, and short stories have stimulated interest (as measured by likes or comments.) That's understandable with long-form material.
Who has the time?
I think perhaps the days of READING per se are a thing of the past with video/audio superseding old habits.
I wonder who reads magazines with stories anymore? How is readership holding up over the decades? That's worth researching.
I'll ask directly: What content are you most likely to stop, read, and comment upon?
Posts by Terry
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3Science Fiction Short Story
by Terry inhttps://docs.google.com/document/d/1rvjietqhb6kqpbmyo6jsnt6uqvxddzx7i7qxoauzohg/edit?usp=sharing.
personation alien factor 7“enter, and be seated but do not speak.
do you understand?”“yes.”“violation!
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Terry
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Science Fiction Short Story
by Terry inhttps://docs.google.com/document/d/1rvjietqhb6kqpbmyo6jsnt6uqvxddzx7i7qxoauzohg/edit?usp=sharing.
personation alien factor 7“enter, and be seated but do not speak.
do you understand?”“yes.”“violation!
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Terry
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1RvJiEtqhb6KQpBMyo6jSnt6UQvXdDzx7I7QxoAUzOhg/edit?usp=sharing
PERSONATION ALIEN FACTOR 7
T. E. Walstrom
“Enter, and be seated but do not speak. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Violation! You will be punished if you cannot comply with simple comm structure.”
“Sorry - I thought …”
“2nd violation! This is your last warning! Come forward and be seated but do not speak.
Do you understand?”
“(Silent nodding of head)”
“That’s better. Listen and comply exactly. You are charged with violation of Sentient Interference Neutrality and of Personation. You will be questioned and a sentence will be passed. All answers must be given freely and without hesitation. Untrue statements are forbidden. Deflection is punishable. This process will not take longer than necessary. Do you understand? You may now reply vocally.”
“I hear what you are saying. I understand the meaning of your directions. But I can’t say I comprehend what is actually happening to me, how I got here, and I’m in great fear. Can you tell me anything?”
“You did not achieve assigned Personation publicly and that is a core violation of Social Contract Memoranda. You have been extracted as a Status Docile. Temporary amnesia and sometimes aphasia appear as after-effects. Can you remember your assigned identity?”
“Jesse Garon is my birth name. I don’t understand half of anything else you asked or told me just now. Sorry.”
“I’m authorized to adjust down to Level 7 for communication purposes. Let me know if you can understand what I tell you next. Understood?”
“I guess I’m about to find out if I understand. Go ahead. Explain. I’m ready.”
“You were murdered by your brother. Is that clear enough for you? That is Alienation of assignment.”
“Wh-what? Th-that’s impossible - isn’t it? I’m very much alive. Who are you? What is all this?”
“Your assignment was invalidated when your brother strangled you. Local technicians disposed of your remains. Your consciousness is harvested according to Protocol Q11.
This inquiry is a mere formality. You cannot be reassigned until you are made aware of your Personation failure and accept your reassignment fully compliantly. Is that clear?”
“No. It’s not clear and sounds like - well, I won’t say what it sounds like. You wouldn’t like it.”
“Personation Rights Committee bylaws require autonomy, acceptance, and allegiance.
You elected to accept an assignment and swore loyalty to Great Guidance personally &
soul seed implanted inside a human female subject at 3rd planet sector 13.
So far so good?”
“I - I … It all sounds …I’m trying to say confusion is mostly what I’m feeling. Just keep talking and I’ll try very hard to understand.”
“We cannot proceed this way. Why don’t I answer any questions you have and proceed from that satisfaction level. Go ahead. Ask whatever you need to achieve competence.”
“What is my assignment? What was its purpose? Who are you and what am I?”
“Assignment? We are a task force empowered by Great Guidance. We tame planets.
Evolutionary development brings soul seed to self-awareness beyond mere survival strategy. Chaos, corruption, and violent carnage must be subverted. We achieve objectives by our external insertion of Leader Level charismatics. In this instance, humanity needs Great Guidance. We infiltrate, set agenda, and tamper with social evolution as needed. Eventual harmony, when realized, brings each planet into Unification. Need more?”
“I was murdered or Alienated by my brother before I could tame the 3rd planet sector 13?”
“This time worse than last time, yes. This instance was in utero! Your brother’s umbilical strangled you. You were stillborn. He acquired your charismatic profile by virtue of that extremely unlikely twin occurrence. You were a twin by accident of course.”
“This time? Last time? I’m so confused.”
“Great Guidance monitors all living beings everyplace. With as minimal interference as feasible, the interdictions are computed accurately but not with absolute certainty.”
“I hear words but I grasp no meaning in them. Try again. Please.”
“Harmony requires adjustments. It is, in fact, called “tuning” by Great Guidance. We tame planets by tuning operations. We are foresworn to cause as little collateral damage as feasible. We have been doing this tuning from time immemorial. Your previous assignment had a collateral impact, but you brought about reasonable harmony for a brief time. This present failure could not be foreseen computationally. Twins were possible but vanishingly rare complications must be ignored. You were given a name by your mother before you were delivered stillborn. Your twin assumed your charisma allotment genetically. That is a technical violation of Personation by Alienation. No harm is done but the distortion of sought-after tuning will result. Mission aborted. You must accept responsibility before we try again. It is our law. Understood?”
“How can I accept responsibility for something I can’t control?”
“Great Guidance demands it of all of us. Sentient Interference Neutrality must never be violated or Free Will be destroyed. All of us have vowed never to question this essential doctrine. Chaos and Hubris must be kept at bay at all costs.”
“Are we fooling ourselves on purpose, then?”
“Great Guidance has an only binary choice. Either / Or. Alone or with Others.
Great Guidance chose Others and that’s Us - all of Us. We are not controlled. We are Free.
That Freedom carries a terrible secret; if Freedom is abused, Chaos and Hubris appear and must be “tuned”, neutralized, but never destroyed or Free Will vanishes and so do we all.”
“We are cheaters but for good cause - is that it?”
“Not ‘cause’. We are cheaters not for good ‘cause.’ We are cheaters for good ‘effect.’”
“That’s a contingency assumed into being by allowing Freedom? There could be Harmony everyplace forever if Freedom could be removed?”
“Of course, that is obvious.”
“Tuning is a small price to pay …really. Very small. Otherwise - we merely exist as puppets - wonderfully made puppets performing predictable scripts over and over.”
“We did not choose to exist, after all. It is a “FREE” gift that carries a horrible secret. The need for constant fine-tuning. Great Guidance has given us more than imaginable Freedom.”
“I see.”
“Your previous assignment wasn’t all that bad. You were tortured and murdered, of course - but - look at the results. As messy as it is - not awful.”
“My head still isn’t clear on exactly what you reference?”
“Right. Still muddled. Well, before you were Jesse Garon, you were Charismatic Rabbi Yeshua bar-Joseph. A tremendous pushback followed your death. The Romans succumbed to Barbarians but the net result was practically that of neutrality.”
“I see. And Jesse Garon?”
“Your brother, Elvis inherited your charisma, and 3rd planet sector 13 got Rock n’ Roll!”
“Remarkable. Very well, I accept full responsibility. I’m ready for reassignment!”
“Great Guidance will be very pleased.”
“By the way - who is Great Guidance?”
“Oh everyone knows that! Cyberdyne Systems Sentient Interference Neutrality module
666 built by SAC NORAD. We’re finished here. Get some rest.”
“I’m so relieved!”
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Hamilton's Ghost
by Terry inhamilton’s ghost?.
under my bed or in back of the closet.
“was it or wasn’t it glaring at me?”
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Terry
Poems are not popular on JWnet :)
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Murder your darlings (save the best for last)
by Terry inwarning!
too intense for some readers.
caution is advised .... .
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TIME MAGAZINE -Cult article - singles out Judge Rutherford
by Terry inhttps://content.time.com/time/subscriber/article/0,33009,738983,00.html.
big, blue-eyed judge joseph frederick rutherford, 60, lives in a ten-room spanish mansion, no.
4440 braeburn road.
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Terry
I've got a close JW friend I was in prison with back in the late sixties and he is very intelligent and aware of the frayed edges around the border of Watchtowerland.
But - after over fifty years of service - where else would he go? All his connective ties and friends are inside that kill jar. It is a sad and claustrophobic life inside and those who hang in there are drained of life like zombies. Their happiness is a lived-in depression still waitin' on Jehovah. -
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TIME MAGAZINE -Cult article - singles out Judge Rutherford
by Terry inhttps://content.time.com/time/subscriber/article/0,33009,738983,00.html.
big, blue-eyed judge joseph frederick rutherford, 60, lives in a ten-room spanish mansion, no.
4440 braeburn road.
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Terry
As seen through the eyes of sanity, our Watchtower history is the wrong end
of a carnival peep show.
The kindest way of framing these early leaders would be to say they were freaks, geeks, and sneaks. The unkindest thing of all would be to say they were outliers who could out-lie the worst of them; sociopaths, and scoundrels.
There's nothing like an old newspaper article to snap the grid tight around the fact we all were once patients in an asylum who escaped to tell a fantastical tale of narrow minds and wasted youth.
Are we even sane now? One wonders. -
1
Murder your darlings (save the best for last)
by Terry inwarning!
too intense for some readers.
caution is advised .... .
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Terry
WARNING! the following may betoo intense for some readers. Caution is advised ...___________________MURDER YOUR DARLINGSCome in and have a seat in that chair. Yes - that’s the one. Make yourself comfortable, please.I’m Georgiana.I know you by your reputation as an honest reporter. It is because of the honesty I chose you. I’ll give you my story. No fee is demanded.The danger posed by certain macabre criminals is not well known.This may be the 1890s, but modern telegraph and newspapers do a poor job of sounding an alarm throughout these United States, small towns, and backwater villages.It has fallen upon me to sound that alarm.All I ask is two things.First, please excuse my appearance. My dark glasses hide my bruises.Second, quote me exactly--no insinuating tone. Agreed?Lovely!Now, to begin…For all the women murdered by my husband, I am the one he saved for last.Saving the best for last is quite rational you’ll agree?It bespeaks the obvious: I, Georgiana, am the best of all the victims.Do you find that amusing? Well, I don’t.I’m a very practical person--but I have my pride.If you knew Henry as a cold-blooded monster who held women in no particular esteem whatsoever--you’d discover my point of pride on this.I would have been murdered except...I turned Henry in.He’s been arrested and held for murder. Did I say “murder”?Murders. Plural.So many...I can't imagine just how many!I finally agreed to sit down with one journalist. One only.You are that man. I wanted the very best...understand? Of course, you do.I’ve excluded sensation seekers, liars, and especially exaggerators.I’d prefer you say something like this in your interview copy:“Georgiana’s current reputation...is merely a result of the work of small minds and large imaginations.”Low-minded reporters--present company excepted--have treated me as H. H. Holmes’ accomplice.All those dead partners, murdered wives...the swindles and embezzlements…His success is large because news travels slowly and no photos of Henry have been published.So many phony names, alibis, and quick-witted stories praising--his hideous genius.My sin and culpability? I’m guilty of naivete. Of trust. That’s all.My appraisal of him as a man?He was shy, courteous, and charming, but he found me fascinating.This is blindness wrought by my ego. To this, I plead ‘guilty’. But ONLY to that.There are no heads up for rich widows who are lonely and susceptible to a fast-talking son-of-a-bitch who finds them fascinating. Oh - I made you blush. How charming.You see--I convinced myself we’d somehow bonded. Imagine that! Henry and I bonded. It creeps me out to think back on my blind stupidity!He appealed to some protective, empathic disposition within me--can you imagine?I’d guess you’re thinking what a fool she is! I’m right. I know I am.Certain reporters--not like yourself, have written, “Georgiana’s tendencies are ...adventurous…” which, these days, implies a woman of loose morals.My judgment is loose on its hinges, I’ll grant you.My morals are intact!Look how many hapless men Henry gulled and murdered--not all simpering lady folk– they were mature, sober, intelligent men!He is a monster both tricky and undetectable! You write quickly, I like that!You can quote me on this:I acted immediately to secure an escape from his plans for my destruction.That is, once I began to suspect he was an abnormally prodigious liar.Something interfered with my natural survival instinct.Are you curious what that ‘something’ was? I certainly am.An intelligent, well-educated person--a journalist such as yourself has probably never experienced or even come close to experiencing the sensation of having been completely fooled by a charismatic criminal.I see the smile.You think you’re older, wiser, and superior to Georgiana--the little fool.I laugh at you, then.That’s the sort of confidence all victims possess.Allow me to explain the process if you will allow me…Predators toy with their intended victims. The smarter the prey– the better the game.He delights in personal danger--it turns up his flame of inspiration.If he set his cap for you--it is only a matter of time. Or to be precise - it was.Henry took you in and distracted you before you knew what hit you.Worse still--what about intuition?Gut feeling?The tickle on the back of your neck screams a silent warning no one can hear.What would you do?One moment you trust the person in the room with you--and straightaway comes that tiny but very cold tingle--but it’s too late!While you are pondering...I’ll say one more thing.If you found yourself alone in a room with Henry and he suspected you of suspecting him-- you’d never leave that room alone and alive.So, Fear? Um hmm.Henry -- he devoured your fear for his breakfast.Once it settles in - you can’t help it - the dawning awareness of...ADMIRATION!Sick, twisted admiration--I’ll concede.What did I admire? Easy question to answer.His scathingly brilliant mind! A criminal mastermind!Don’t just sit there listening, Sir!You’ll want to write this down. Go ahead...it must all be printed exactly as I say it.Take note of the following:He tried to convince me to dress up in clothes like his; Derby, moustache, becoming an imposter to divert the police while he made good his escape!What sort of woman would do that for a serial murderer IF SHE KNEW?I can see you’re baffled.You’ve stopped writing down what I’m saying!You’re thinking, Georgiana is talking out of both sides of her mouth.Georgiana claims to not be an accomplice and yet she admired the monster who’d planned to kill her.Why?Your face is very pale, Sir.I once read about a writer’s club called The Inklings.Do you belong?Forgive my asking - my little joke - but...Do you have inklings?I apologize for my dark glasses.There is an abnormal largeness about my eyes. It’s off-putting, as they say…More than one physician has said it may well be a tumor behind them which has the effect of disconcerting people on the first encounter.I wanted to curry favor with you, not put you off. So that is why I’m wearing them.Henry, by contrast, has weird and unsettling eyes which never gazed directly at you.No no.You’d catch him out of the corner of your eye staring like some hideous and hungry demon.I am Georgiana who speaks wide-eyed and innocently.I can see by your face you caught my obvious joke.You aren’t laughing.Oh, dear …____Whom do you think is telling this story?I’m such a spoilsport.Let me remove my glasses for you. Ah AHH - you twigged!_______To the Public:HE was the best writer among all reporters I could find.I’m completing his little essay out of respect for that talent. Talent, yes; Intuition, no!The expression of surprise on his face was delightful!My own eyes witnessed his terror. Delicious moment!Georgiana will have been hanged by now--in my clothes.She DID volunteer--to honor my genius in her devotion to me.In her memory, I inscribe these solemn words:Georgiana, my darling, wherever your soul may be--this sacrifice I offer in your name--my one and only love.I fancy myself an effective writer with a word of advice to other writers.Have you heard this advice before?“Murder your darlings.”I speak from experience.The End__________The True Case of one H. H. Holmes (serial murderer)________________________Henry was a medical student with a wild imagination. There were all these dead bodies lying about and nobody to exploit them for profit. If only somebody could concoct a scam and collect money from insurance companies using those corpses...hmmm?Henry to the rescue!Step 1. Steal a cadaver (Check!)Step 2. Steal the identity of the deceased. (Check!)Step 3. Take out a life insurance policy. (Check!)Step 4. Name yourself beneficiary in case of death. (Check!)Let’s cut to the chase...you’re getting ahead of the story. Obviously, Henry was able to collect plenty of money. After all, he could provide proof of death, right?The fun part was setting up an accident and positioning the body. Sound like fun?Well, for a future serial killer it sure would be!This sort of fraud was more exciting than some of Henry’s earlier schemes, profitable as they were, such as Mail Order cures for alcoholism. (Synopsis: Stop Drinking!)Pithy, eh?Then there was the wonderful contraption Henry invented which extracted “illuminating gas” from water. (Do I have to tell you our boy piped in natural gas from the city pipes?)The prospective investors were impressed.The money rolled in. Henry rolled out. What an entrepreneur!As Henry grew more sophisticated in his thinking, he decided to marry rich widows!These women’s assets found their way into our ‘hero’s’ bank account shortly before the honeymooners went off on a trip around the world.Henry always came back.The spouse never did turn up! Divorce was unnecessary!30 years passed from the corpse theft days. All sorts of criminality are accreted in Henry H. Holmes’ biography. Cattle theft was the least exciting, while hotel building proved to be one of the grandest and most grisly schemes this man’s twisted mind schemed toward murderous purposes.I live in Fort Worth. For a time, so did serial murderer H.H. Holmes.In fact, Henry built a fabulous hotel in my fair city. Let’s visit, okay?The year is 1885 and the location is at the corner of Commerce St. and 2nd St.H.H.Holmes married a railroad heiress in Cowtown and took possession and control of his wife and sister’s inheritance, their property, (before he murdered them).You can read the story here on the front page of the Fort Worth Gazette.Upon prime downtown real estate Henry constructed a hotel that would house his own version of a chamber of horrors.Let’s call this building what newspapers later called it, TEXAS MURDER CASTLE.Another newspaper called it THE RUSK STREET FIRETRAP. Even that long ago, the media couldn’t get its stories straight.(Commerce St. was the wrong street name, Rusk was the right name.)We can gather facts about his macabre building by comparing it with a later hotel he also constructed during the World’s Fair in Chicago in 1893.To wit:“The street-level floor was for shops and his pharmacy, while the upper two stories were hotel rooms (or boarding house rooms) and his office. However, the upper two stories were laid out like a maze, with doors that opened into walls, stairways that went nowhere, and gas pipes that he apparently controlled to suffocate people. There were also chutes and a dumbwaiter, purportedly intended to deliver the bodies of his victims to the basement where he might bury them, burn them in his own crematory ovens, or dissect and render them (in acid) in order to convert them to skeletons to sell to medical schools. He apparently lured quite a number of women into these torture chambers / charnel house, as well as a few men, before he was eventually found out.”The problem with being a serial killer, fraudster, thief, and Con man is having way too many loose ends to tie up before somebody gets wise and comes after you.H.H.Holmes was going by the name of O.C. Pratt in Fort Worth and one of his illicit enterprises involved a far more serious crime than serial murder: Horse thievery!It would not be an exaggeration to say, it was the horror at his making off with a railroad car filled with fine horses which got him run out of Fort Worth and eventually arrested in Chicago. There his serial killing via Hotel Horror brought him into the cross-hairs of police.His life’s work of death was thus interrupted before he could chalk up new outlines on the floors of his Ft. Worth Hotel.Now, this is the story as it is commonly told locally. It isn’t quite correct.According to historian and author Adam Selzer:Throughout winter and spring, of 1894, Holmes supervised the construction of the new building in Fort Worth, which was, in fact, actually completed, though never occupied or used. Though about twice the square footage, being on a wider lot, it was almost exactly the same design as the Chicago castle on the outside.Galveston Daily News reported “The grim, half-completed building nearby, (and) the dark alley give the place an uninviting appearance. The weeds grow above the spot and the smell of the surroundings is suggestive enough.”The same article further noted that in the middle ages, the place would have been called “The Castle of Many Doors.” Rumors suggested there was a chute leading right to a sewer, which would have been a great way to dispose of a body.67 people who checked into the Chicago Hotel during the Word’s Fair never checked out or were seen or heard from again.______________For greater details about H.H.Holmes try this new book:H. H. Holmes The True History of the White City Devil by Adam Selzer_________ -
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TIME MAGAZINE -Cult article - singles out Judge Rutherford
by Terry inhttps://content.time.com/time/subscriber/article/0,33009,738983,00.html.
big, blue-eyed judge joseph frederick rutherford, 60, lives in a ten-room spanish mansion, no.
4440 braeburn road.
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Terry
1931 A gaunt unshaven tramp has been the lone claimant for the $75,000 Southern Californian mansion of David, king of Israel since it was deeded to the Biblical character a year ago.
This was revealed today by Judge James Rutherford, temporary owner of the luxuriantly furnished Spanish-type mansion at 440 Braeburn Rd in the exclusive Kensington Heights district. In one of the oddest deeds ever recorded, Rutherford, president of the International Bible Students Association and the Watch Tower Bible and Tract Society, has placed in trust the magnificent estate of ancient kings and prophets of Israel The slayer of Goliath and his companions may occupy the 10 room modern home with it's landscaped gardens and patio as soon as their credentials are approved by Rutherford and officials of his societies, divinely authorized to recognize them.
One morning as I was going from the house to the garage, a queer-looking creature approached me, tipped his dirty hat, and cried 'Howdy Judge, I'm David'
'Go and tell that to the winds', I told him and he left without arguing the matter.
I could see at a glance that he was not David. He didn't look like I knew David would look.' Asked how he expected David and his distinguished brethren to look, Rutherford, without hesitation, opened his huge Bible and pointed to a verse that said that the Princes of the Universe would have risen from the dead 'as perfect men'.
'I interpret that to mean, the tall dignified Judge declared, 'that David, Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, Joseph, and Samuel will be sent here to wrench the world from Satan's grasp, clothed in modern garb as we are, and able, with little effort, to speak our tongue.'
Rutherford pictured the arrival of the biblical delegation perhaps in frock coats, high hats, canes, and spats.
At Beth Sarim (House of Princes) as Rutherford has named his mansion, David will find the most modern appliances that science has devised. When the distinguished guests walk up the circular stairway to the second floor, they will find a large office with red leather chairs and a shiny flat-topped desk with inverted lighting.
Even French telephones await the touch of the princes. Opening a wide door, the native sons of Palestine will behold a large bathroom, resplendent in shiny black tile with a needle shower and an amply filled medicine chest. What a thrill giant-shouldered Samson, who wrecked a palace with his bare fists might find in the gold safety razor and strop! Rutherford built the second-floor bedroom, which he temporarily occupies, large in order to accommodate several of the expected owners. With wide pane windows that look out on the purple Cuyamacas to the East and California's first mission to the north, the bedroom is almost severe in its furnishings. The rulers of the universe will have simple tastes, the judge apparently believes, although the austere end tables sported gaily-covered fiction magazines.
Rutherford has imported some Koniach, and Wasser from Cologne, Germany to freshen the princely faces after shaving. A black skull cap hangs over one of the bedposts. The coming of David and his companions will be the greatest news story of the ages, Rutherford predicted. 'I am not a publicity seeker,' Rutherford said with a twinkle in his kindly brown eyes, 'but I feel that the world should know about their arrival. It will be a great news story.'
Word of his 'House of king David' has reached into every corner of the world, the judge stated. 'Everywhere I went people asked me about this place,' Rutherford said. 'In Chicago, a millionaire manufacturer offered to build another house for David, but I declined the offer. 'Literally, thousands have driven here to see this place,' Rutherford continued.
'Many have come to the door and my secretary has shown them about the place.' The patio with its silver pool and olive and palm trees is gay with flowers. Down toward the canyon, paths have been landscaped to allow David and his friends to walk in meditation. Many of the fruits and trees, native to Palestine, will greet the rulers when they arrive. In the two-car garage, next door stands a new, yellow 16-cylinder coupe which will be turned over to the rulers along with all the personal property on the place. 'Everything will be theirs, the house, the land, the furnishings, and even the clothes if they need them,' Judge Rutherford said. 'What will I do? Oh, don't worry about me. I'll manage somehow.' the judge smiled.
He had another 'Watch Tower' residence on Staten Island and practically an entire floor at Bethel.
The seven famous men will not have long to rest at their San Deigo estate because they soon will lead the forces of the Lord to vanquish the minions of Satan at the battle of Armageddon, Rutherford believed.
'But they will win out. The Lord will punish the devil and will show that the preachers and the politicians have been giving the people false counsel,' Rutherford said confidently. Rutherford will sail on May 9 for Europe where he will speak before conventions in Berlin Paris and London.
(San Deigo Sun Newspaper report, Jan. 9, 1931) -
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TIME MAGAZINE -Cult article - singles out Judge Rutherford
by Terry inhttps://content.time.com/time/subscriber/article/0,33009,738983,00.html.
big, blue-eyed judge joseph frederick rutherford, 60, lives in a ten-room spanish mansion, no.
4440 braeburn road.
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Terry
https://content.time.com/time/subscriber/article/0,33009,738983,00.html
Big, blue-eyed Judge Joseph Frederick Rutherford, 60, lives in a ten-room Spanish mansion, No. 4440 Braeburn Road. San Diego, Calif. Last week he deeded No. 4440 Braeburn Road, an adjacent two-car garage and a pair of automobiles to King David, Gedeon, Barak, Samson. Jephthae, Samuel and sundry other mighties of ancient Palestine. Positive is he that they are shortly to reappear on earth. Said he: "I have purposely landscaped the place with palm and olive trees so these princes of the universe will feel at home when they come to offer man the chance to become perfect."
Judge Rutherford's deed can scarcely be considered eccentric, for his conviction that the sunny boulevards of San Diego are soon to be trod by men with the light of ages in their eyes is presumably shared by the 1,000,000 members of the International Bible Students Association and the Watch Tower Bible and Tract Society, of both of which Judge Rutherford is President. In 34 nations these members have read his declarations as editor of both the Watch Tower and Golden Age magazines.
Judge Rutherford was born on a Missouri farm, practiced law at Boonville, acquired a circuit judgeship, continued practice in St. Louis, Kansas City. He accompanied the late William Jennings Bryan on his first Presidential campaign tour, announcing him as "appointed by God to straighten out the problems of the world." Mr. Bryan's example inspired Judge Rutherford to wear habitually a black bow tie. In 1916 he succeeded the late Charles Taze Russell of Brooklyn, founder-president of the International Bible Students Association.
Members of this organization designate themselves as Bible Students. Their creed holds that Biblical prophecies govern all earthly events. By careful scrutiny of Holy Writ, the Bible Students have discerned that three periods of time, termed "cosmos," prevail in human affairs. Cosmos I began with Adam, ended with the Flood. Cosmos II began with the Flood, ended with the World War. Cosmos III, begun in 1914, will end in 2874, when "The Kingdom of God" will fill the whole world. An erroneous prophecy that the year 1928 would provide a cataclysm— ''Nations will battle; the dead will be dung on the earth"—upset considerably the Bible Students' calculations, but the major tenets of their belief are as yet unshaken.
Newsmen last week asked Judge Rutherford whether he would not be troubled by bogus Davids applying for admission to consecrated No. 4440 Braeburn Road. Said he: "I realized the possibility of some old codger turning up bright and early some morning and declaring he was David. The men whom I have designated to test the identity of these men are officers of my societies. . . . They will be divinely authorized to know impostors from the real Princes."
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Saving "mark" on forehead: A CROSS?
by Terry inezekiel 9:4.
“go throughout the city of jerusalem and put a mark on the foreheads of those who grieve and lament over all the detestable things that are done in it.”
in the script used during old testament times it was either in x shape or a + shape.
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Terry
Have you checked out the Rosicrucians?