The Orbital Model of Political Philosophies and the Myth of Right and Left (by ContraSuggest)

For centuries, students and laypeople alike, have been led by pundits and educators to envision a deeply flawed model in an attempt to explain the various political philosophies of the world.

This model, characterized by false dichotomies of "left" and "right", has been used by the intelligencia to glorify politicians, and others of public notoriety, that they define as “moderates”, those who fall in the middle of their counterfeit spectrum.  But before we go further into explaining the falsehoods of the linear model evoked by the terms left and right, first a brief word on how these terms came into use.   

During the bloody French revolutionary period in the late 1780s, the terms left and right, originally used as pejoratives, referred to those who supported the radical principles of the revolution, who sat to the left of the speaker's podium in the National Assembly chamber, and those who were skeptical of those principles, who sat to the right.  Although no longer referring to the relative seating arrangements in legislative chambers, the descriptive terms caught on, and have been used in the media and the halls of academia ever since.  As will be explained shortly, these distinctions, as they have long been applied, are almost completely fallacious. 

Let’s begin with a depiction of the false linear spectrum described above (see figure 1).  It must be noted that, although this linear representation is fundamentally unsound, I have made an honest attempt to accurately position political ideologies and forms of government in terms of where the model's advocates have traditionally placed them.  As with all models, relative placement is approximate.  This will make for a sharper comparison, when I unveil what I believe to be my alternative, far more accurate model.

Relative positioning along the continuum is based upon the subjects' perceived resemblance to either “far-left” or “far-right” ideology.  If an expressed view or policy (stated or implemented) resembles what is perceived as fascist, it is placed closer to the extreme right side of the spectrum; if perceived as being consistent with communism, it will be closer to the extreme left.  The main justification for desiring moderation is the belief that tending too far to either extreme is equally deleterious to liberty.  But this presumes an invalid premise by drawing false distinctions between tyrannical ideologies, in some cases placing them at opposite ends of  the spectrum, when in reality they belong near one another, due to their manifold similarities and only superficial differences.   

The distortions offered by the political experts do not end there.  For while they caution us to avoid so-called extremism "on both sides", they simultaneously lionize those on the left (those with whom they share political kinship), and demonize those on the right.  This is done by positioning anyone who is not a leftist on the extreme right; placing liberals toward the center, and casting a nebulous shadow over the left end of the spectrum. The result?  It has become the height of intellectual and political sophistication to be characterized as a moderate.

One of the convenient results for the leftist, or statist, in furthering this perception, is the easy ability to marginalize or demonize any conservative or even conservative-leaning individual as a fascist.  So, the GOP is recast as the party of segregation, Ronald Reagan and Donald Trump are akin to Adolf Hitler, the radical chic of the revolutionary murderer Che Guevara is celebrated, the USSR is portrayed as an honest broker during Cold War nuclear arms talks, and America's pullout in Vietnam, precipitating the worst mass slaughter of the second half of the 20th century, is hailed as a triumph of liberty.       

However, in truth, Communism, Socialism, Nazism, Fascism, and Liberalism/Progressivism (from here on referred to as the "six isms") are socio-economic and political cousins that must be depicted in close proximity when placed on any ideological spectrum.  This fact throws the entire perceived balance of the linear model out of whack.  The six isms are, to varying degrees, all tyrannical, totalitarian, extremist ideologies of what is perceived to be the left.  That means that they have no opposite but equal dark reflection on the far "right."  There are simply no more “isms” remaining to juxtapose with the six listed on the so-called left.  Can conservatism be the opposite number of the six isms?  Most certainly not- for conservatism is not a political ideology; it is a way of life: life lived by the acknowledgment of the natural law, and the teleological; exercise of reason, prudence, faith, objective morality, and ethics.  Individual conservatives can, and often do, get it wrong, but only when they violate the core conservative principles.  Conservatism itself is unimpeachable.

Perhaps one could suggest capitalism as their opposite number, but this would propose that capitalism is equally flawed (or extreme) in its “rightist” precepts as the other isms are in their “leftist” precepts.  This notion turns to dust under closer scrutiny, for the societies in all of world history that have had the highest success rate of lifting people out of crippling poverty, are systems that incorporate capitalism.  Its critics often confuse it with what is called crony capitalism (itself a misnomer); failures attributed to capitalism are most often the negative result of infusions of socialism into the mix.  And wherever the precepts of the six isms have been applied, characterized by varying degrees of centralized government control over citizens' lives, they have failed.  To varying degrees, these systems and their champions have been responsible for the full gamut of human stagnation and suffering-  from violations of  basic freedoms and poor economic growth-  to torture, unjust imprisonment, mass starvation, great depressions, collapsed economies, and mass murder.  In the 20th century, collectivist ideologies (the six isms) have been responsible for the deaths of well over 150 million people.  This of course doesn't mean, for example, that American liberals are responsible for Stalin-magnitude crimes at home; there is no false conflation of the six isms.  However, from a theoretical standpoint, American liberalism and Soviet communism are ideological cousins.  They often acknowledge  similar premises and share similar stated goals, but differ regarding approach and implementation.  A prime historical illustration is the many American liberals who engaged in dark Cold War accommodationism of the treasonous, anti-American Communist Party (CPUSA), and therefore of the totalitarian Soviet Union itself; while at the same time some liberals, like Presidents Truman and Kennedy, did all they could to check Soviet expansion. 

So, in reality, the entire right side of the linear model is essentially an empty set, with the six isms constellated on the left, and no opposite number on the right.  The much laudable center of the linear model must be represented by something other than a hazy and ever-changing Golden Mean (aka- disguised statism).  The only remaining thing that could possibly populate the moderate center would be conservatism; but again, a linear model, built on falsely juxtaposed negative extremes cannot accurately place conservatism.  With the model now in full collapse, it must be discarded and replaced with a more reasonable, accurate and workable model.         

The New Orbital Model:         

In light of the inaccuracy of the traditional conceptions that evoke a false linear political model, I propose here an entirely new model, using an orbital diagram, similar to that of Earth’s solar system, as a general template (see Figure 2.).

The center of the diagram, where the sun would normally be positioned, represents the positive extremes to which all reasonable people aspire.  This is represented by the natural law (defined as man's participation in the divine law), prudence, faith, reason, objective morality and ethics, just-law, orthodoxy, time-tested tradition, freedom, and liberty.  The diagram is both elegant and accurate in its simplicity: the closer a subject is to the "sun", the more it embraces and emulates truth; the farther from the sun, the less it emulates truth.  Therefore, one can easily judge the relative merit of a subject based upon its proximity to the true center.  The noble effort of the American founders, distilling the best time-tested institutions of the great world societies of the past, and fusing them with select Enlightenment philosophy, tempered by Judeo-Christian principles, are in the first orbit, depicted closest to the light of truth.  In stark contrast, the six isms orbit in frozen depravity at the farthest reaches of the model, to depict their retrograde values and the evil they have wrought in the world.  Other notable political movements are placed in various orbits to indicate their status relative to the positive extreme around which they orbit.

The Orbital Model may be simple, but it's also dynamic enough to accurately represent so-called mixed ideologies.  Individuals, ideologies, or regimes that have drawn from varied political philosophies to either explain their beliefs or to govern, leaning "left" in some regards and "right" in others.  Such cases are easily and accurately represented by an elliptical orbit.  For illustrative purposes, figure 3., depicts those who label themselves both fiscally conservative (traditionally defined as a right-leaning view) and socially liberal (traditionally defined as a left-leaning view).  An elliptical orbit allows closer proximity to truth when the subject expresses fiscally responsible views, while the same subject can be depicted  farther away from truth when expressing irresponsible and destructive social views, all in the course of the same orbit.

Misunderstanding political philosophies allows easy mischaracterization of the intentions and actions of historical and present-day administrations and regimes, theoreticians, politicians, and heads of state, adding additional further misunderstanding to the already muddled views of the public.  Due to the fatal flaws of the traditional linear inspired depictions, I urge educators, pundits, and everyday citizens to seriously consider the use of the far more accurate and dynamic Orbital Model.

Why Catholics Cannot Practice Yoga (by ContraSuggest)

Most Catholics who practice Yoga don't think they're practicing anything contrary to the dictates of their faith.  "Don't be stupid," they tell me, "what could possibly be wrong with stretching and breathing exercises that have been around for thousands of years and have been proven to aid in maintaining good health?"  OK.  So why is the practice of Yoga a bad idea for Christians in general and specifically for practicing Catholics?  First of all, Yoga is a Hindu spiritual technique, nothing more, nothing less; any physical or mental health benefits are secondary to the spiritual objective.  Secondly, Hindu spiritual aspirations are simply incompatible with Christian doctrines.  

Hinduism is polytheistic (belief in multiple gods), while Christianity is monotheistic (belief in one God).  Hinduism is also pantheistic (the belief that everything is either God, or that everything is divine). Conversely, Christians believe in the doctrine of creation, which holds that only God is divine and that everything else (people, nature, the universe) are His creatures.  Despite the Hindu belief in multiple gods, the spiritual goal is to ultimately recognize the unifying divinity in oneself, which is called Brahman. Therefore, Hinduism teaches an inward quest to discover one's own divinity, or "true self," who is god,  and Hindus are taught to see past the so-called illusions of existence to discover this truth.  The express stated purpose of Yoga (or path, of which there are several forms) is to alter consciousness to meet the goal of Hinduism, which is to attain a higher state of consciousness in order to discover one's divinity.  Hatha Yoga attempts to achieve this aim by making use of the physical manipulation of the body to help create an altered state of consciousness which occurs as the result of the effect of the exercise on the central nervous system.    

Properly trained Yoga instructors understand all of this and subtlety teach their students Hindu spirituality through the visualizations and meditations that accompany the forms and exercises practiced during Yoga sessions.  The walls of Yoga studios are often adorned with the images of Hindu gods and spiritual figures; these images are not just for show, they are an integral part of Yoga.  While I do not doubt Yoga's physical health benefits and the calming effect on the mind, surely faithful Catholics can find alternatives to Yoga that do not lead them down counterfeit spiritual paths.  For instance, it is possible to adopt the stretching exercises of Yoga, detached from the overtly Hindu spiritual aspects, as part of a good health regimen.  Still, many objectionable Hindu spiritual teachings and techniques have worked their way into the Catholic mind through the allure of the New Age Movement.  For example, too many Catholics have jettisoned prayer in favor of meditation without understanding the negative implications of that decision.  To wantonly dissolve one's identity through meditation can lead us away from Christ and leave us vulnerable to malevolent occult forces.  It's akin to a short-term sugar high, seemingly good for the body and mind in the short run, but bad for the soul in the long run.  While I'm sure that the world is full of Hindus and Yoga instructors who are noble, well-meaning people, it's simply reckless for Catholics to practice authentic Yoga, as it is a clear violation of our faith.          

In closing, I would be remiss not to mention reincarnation, the Hindu spiritual principle that is most widely believed by non-Hindus, including many Catholics and many who practice Yoga .  In a nutshell, the teaching of reincarnation has to do with karma, the supposed journal of good and bad choices that carry over from life to life.  We allegedly learn lessons of the soul through living multiple, successive lives, until we get it right and realize our divinity.  This clearly denies Christian teaching that tells us we only have one life, followed by the judgment, and it also denies the necessity of Christ, by teaching that we can reach God on our own merits.  While it is undoubtedly desirable for Catholics to celebrate shared values with non-Catholics, we must draw the line at discarding our own non-negotiable, deeply held beliefs when doing so. 

The Venti Socialist: Starbucks Founder Howard Schultz (by ContraSuggest)

Editor's Note: No fair trade coffee was harmed in the writing of this article.

Can you imagine a world in which people wished for social improvement while advocating empty panaceas?  A world in which exists an ever-changing, make-believe decency, cut off from the source of true decency?  A magical place where the hungry are fed, the homeless are housed, all is free, and everybody frolics around amidst the butterflies and daisies, sipping four dollar cups of latte?  Unbeknownst to most people, there actually exists such a world: the world of Starbucks founder Howard Schultz (here forward referred to as Howie).

In the interests of full disclosure, I need to divulge a few things before continuing.  I love Starbucks products.  I continue to spend long hours sitting comfortably in my local Starbucks, sipping tea, reading, writing, and talking to friends.  I am a Starbucks Gold Cardholder since 2011.  In my experience, Starbucks baristas are generally well-trained, hardworking and courteous people, making their coffee shops a comforting refuge from a stressful world.  So it isn’t Starbucks's products or employees that I object to, it’s Howie's endless spewing of empty leftist platitudes, forever cloaked in a manufactured, condescending righteousness.  His obedient devotion to, and advocacy of,  the full range of leftist shibboleths is well known.  From Obamacare, to same sex marriage, to snake oil environmentalism, there isn't one loopy left policy that this crony capitalist hasn't supported.  Despite all of this, Howie's java giant has been responsible for some laudable actions, such as charitable giving, and I would never presume to take that away from him.  This of course does not justify his full throated support for every toxic socialist scheme that comes down the pike.

You see, Howie always phrases all of his political statements very, very carefully, so as to sound sensible, dispassionate, and inoffensive to the average coffee drinker.  He bears the key hallmark of a first rate demagogue, the ability to sweet talk people into agreeing with his radical opinions.

Most recently, Howie expressed outrage at President Trump's executive order shutting off the issuance of all new immigrant and non-immigrant visas for 90 days from a mere seven unstable, terrorist  producing nations: Iraq, Iran, Syria, Yemen, Sudan, Somalia, and Libya.  Was Trump's move a sensible one?  Sure.  Constitutional?  Check.  Will it make us safer?  Likely.  So what's Howie's beef?  His response was one designed to create a straw man, attributing the plight of refugees worldwide to Trump's EO, which applies only to a portion of the refugees that terrorist organizations have vowed they would infiltrate in order to attack us.  Howie stated that he won't "stand by, nor stand silent" for this, and that he's "...developing plans to hire 10,000 of them (refugees) over five years in the 75 countries around the world where Starbucks does business."  Well gee, that's all fine and dandy, but exactly how does Starbucks plan to conduct standard employee background checks on those he plans to hire from the countries on that list?  Is he going to check with ISIS's human resources department?  Maybe he can call Bashar al-Assad for references.  Or could it just be that Howie is a mere nattering propagandist with a political axe to grind?       

In his usual patronizing, sanctimonious style, he continued to admonish Trump's agenda by decrying the proposed overturn of Obamacare and the building of a security wall on the US's border with Mexico.  No matter that Obamacare has been an utter and complete disaster for Americans, causing businesses to curtail employment, millions to be dropped from their policies, fines charged for violating mandatory participation, millions pushed onto government welfare rolls, soaring premiums, increased co-pays, loss of choice, and a half a billion dollars cut from Medicare.  Howie would have us believe that the only laws that shouldn't be enforced are our immigration laws.  That the US federal government does not have a right and an obligation to protect the American people from actual and potential external threats, and that the US border should be nothing more than an imaginary line on a map.

In the future, the Starbucks CEO should be a little more mindful that us low-brows who voted for Trump because we couldn't bear the thought of President Hillary, make up a fair number of the people who patronize his establishments.  So perhaps he should think twice before spewing forth another nauseating, cliché-filled lecture disguised as a press release.  Not all of us who drink your overpriced coffee are interested in being preached to by an arrogant uber-liberal know-it-all.  Oh, and have a nice day.

The Shape Of The Cultural Counter-Revolution (by Contrasuggest)

Over the course of the last 60 years, the left has taken near total control of the societal mechanisms that shape our reality and perceptions; consider that they now firmly control the following:

• pop culture and the entertainment industry
• corporate industry and the workplace
• most Christian churches, including the Catholic Church
• the traditional news media
• all branches and institutions of the federal government (including the bureaucracies)
• nearly all educational institutions and the textbook industry
• the television networks, public broadcasting, museums and other public depositories of information
• most of the Internet, including all social media
• the Boy Scouts (who, after a long desperate struggle, were the last to fall)

Have I missed anything?  Likely, I did.  The power and influence of the left is nearly without limit.

Thoughtful parents who carry even some small vestige of traditionalism in their hearts, and a desire to impart it to their children, are doomed before they begin.  When pressed, most of them are unable even to explain their views, much less defend them in the face of the withering and ubiquitous ridicule coming from their brainwashed coworkers, friends, and family, and the onslaught coming from every corner of the greater smut-culture.  The left's victory has been so thorough, and their scorched earth policy so complete, that there is no longer any fertile soil anywhere in America where morality or reason may take root.  Things once considered radical have now long been deemed normal, and anyone who dares publicly express traditionalist sentiments is branded with a kind of scarlet letter- marginalized and demonized as a "hater", "racist", "homophobe", "denier", or some other ad hominem, denigrating misnomer.  Reputations are smeared, fines are levied, careers are destroyed, and some are arrested, with no recourse to the law or even to once commonly held decency.  America has become a soft police state, pursuing an ongoing pogrom against traditionalists, capitalists, and western religionists.

The loss of the culture war in America is analogous to the loss of a conventional military war.  I am confident in the strength of that simile.  Consider that two sides (American statists and traditionalists) went to war over disputed territory (our politico-cultural institutions); one side has routed the other in every major battle (the statists have overcome traditionalist influence everywhere), the disputed territory has been forcibly  taken and occupied by the enemy (leftists now control all politico-cultural institutions). Traditionalists and conservatives eke out lives of quiet desperation in a country that they barely recognize, waiting for a hero to lead them out of the wilderness.  That is the very definition of defeat.  Why is it of utmost importance to admit that this war has been lost?  Because some of the conservative forces survived the struggle and have gone to ground; we still have a small, capable army comprised of some brilliant people.  But no potential future offensive by conservatives can be fought on the old cultural battlefields, using the old failed tactics and strategies.  If we repeat those mistakes, and continue to engage the enemy on territory that they firmly control, pretending that they do not control it, the remainder of our forces will be wiped out and we'll lose this country, possibly forever.  The only alternative open to us, furthering the military simile, is to wage a political/cultural guerilla war against this enemy, an enemy that has become the new establishment.

Conservatives must steal several pages out of the enemy's playbook, and the most essential strategy from those pages is a covert effort to Infiltrate America's socio-political organizations in order to take them back, quietly, from the inside.  Yes, we must employ similar strategies used by the leftists to take them from us in the first place.  There are many out there who have already begun to fight back in this vein.  From men like Glen Beck and Mark Levin, to organizations like the Heritage Foundation and websites like Brietbart.com; these conservative culture warriors are on the offensive each and every day, employing equal measures of truth and sarcasm to bombard the enemy and set the record straight.

Another shining example in this insurgency to take back the culture is the movement to inaugurate an Article V convention of the states, an effort designed to culminate in amendments to the constitution (bypassing most of the compromised cultural institutions, and doing an end-run around the feds) that will reinforce the Founders' intended curtailment of federal powers.  A wonderful organization called The Convention Of The States Project has quietly been providing information and advice to various state legislatures around the country.  Legislatures in several states have formed exploratory committees to get the ball rolling.  Most recently, Texas Governor Greg Abbott has begun a determined effort to rally support for a convention in the TX legislature, which includes coordination with legislatures of other states.  Governor Abbott, the articulate former attorney general of TX, is extraordinarily well-versed in the legal aspects of the process, and we're blessed to have him fighting for us.  The movement is slowly gaining ground, and I believe it will continue to grow vigorously, as more Americans begin to reject the overreach of Moscow on the Potomac.  I just pray that there are enough of us to make a difference.

There are precedents in history, during the final years of the Cold War, for other successful cultural counter-revolutions: the Solidarity Movement in Poland, and the Velvet Revolution in Czechoslovakia. Both are examples of successful non-conventional efforts at weakening the power of tyrannical central authority.  However, in the America of 2016, it's become clear that the slide towards chaos is no mere trend, but a hideous mutation undergone by the American collective psyche.  I think there's great doubt as to whether or not we can reverse what we've become and halt the high degree of social entropy that's so deeply imbedded in our national soul.  At this point it may be as impossible as returning an already fired bullet back into the chamber of a revolver.  Be that as it may, it's incumbent upon us to try; the alternative is to resign the posterity of the American Founders to destruction and, as a result, condemning future generations of Americans to Hell on Earth.

Donald Trump: The Latest Strain of Political Cancer (by ContraSuggest):

The American people are a lost breed with no identity and no real legacy.  Our children's cultural inheritance is nothing more than a scorched earth.  You can be anything you want to be, we tell them.  But in a country where we have allowed objective morality and ethics to die of neglect in order to justify our own libidinous urges, we've put our children on a collision course with emptiness.  We've essentially taught them, since they're nothing more than apes with iPhones, that the fulfillment of their impulsive whims is limitless.  And so we continue to gleefully swim in the direction of the undertow flowing towards the secular/socialist black hole along the Potomac River.

Nature abhors a vacuum: enter Donald Trump.  There are so many phonies running around pretending to be things that they are not in these biblically inflected end times.  Donald Trump is the consummate, archetypal phony.  His political opinions are all over the board.  For the better part of the last 40 years he has expressed the views of a Progressive Democrat; then experienced a supposed conversion to conservatism on the road to capture the 2016 Republican presidential nomination.  In reality, he continuously shoots from the hip with the bad aim that comes from a lack of core principles, so his policy positions are a muddled hodgepodge of contradictions.  It's painfully obvious from listening to his nasty, cacophonous, and empty blather, that he understands neither the Constitution nor conservatism.  Since most Republican voters don’t understand those things either, Trump enjoys wide support within the party.  His loathsome personality, and perception as a political outsider have endeared him to the ignorant.  Half of what this insufferable gasbag spews contradicts the other half.  If Trump's knowledge of American history and politics were chocolate, it couldn't fill an M&M.  However, it would seem that Trump's zombie-like supporters are impenetrably ignorant, as he continues to rack up the lion's share of delegates in the Republican primary race.  And so, this political flim-flam man, empty suit, and dangerous cult of personality, who stands for absolutely nothing, marches ever-closer to the presidency.

Arrayed against the presumptive Republican nominee are a self-styled socialist and a progressive, (as if there's any real difference between the two).  If by now you don't recognize these as euphemisms for tyranny, then you're probably already backstroking toward the event horizon of that black hole.  But where does all of this leave conservatives in terms of the choice that we're most likely going to have to make at the polls in November?  Personally, I am well acquainted with choosing the lesser of two evils in presidential races.  Let's review; below are all the presidential races in which I've voted, the blue highlights denote who I voted for.  Particularly note the nose-holding done in 1996, 2008 and 2012, where I was forced to vote for inarticulate big-government technocratic Republicans in order to avoid bigger problems.               

1984: Reagan v. Mondale

1988: Bush 1 v. Dukakis
1992: Bush 1 v. Clinton
1996: Clinton v. Dole
2000: Bush 2 v. Gore
2004: Bush 2 v. Kerry
2008: Obama v. McCain
2012: Obama v. Romney


Why did I cast those votes?  Because, although there weren't huge differences between the candidates, there were enough differences to vote for one over the other.  I assessed that my choice would result in the country doing slightly less terrible than if I had selected the alternative.  Now, let's play a game.  I'm going to list a bunch of political policy positions and statements, and I want you to figure out which current presidential candidate has held or said them all.  Ready?  Here goes: supported TARP, the bank bailouts, single payer health care (expressed great admiration for the Canadian system, and wanted to abolish Obamacare because it didn't go far enough); supports private property seizure, supports and wants to expand federal Ethanol subsidies, favors a massive increase of tariffs, supported Putin's military incursions into Syria, believes George W. Bush was responsible for 9/11, has hired illegal aliens, claims to always have had a great relationship with Nancy Pelosi, gets along great with Harry Reid, and is in many ways very close with (Senator Chuck) Schumer, but has said that Ted Cruz is a guy that nobody likes and nobody trusts and that he’s a nasty guy who is sick and is a liar.  Donated campaign cash to Harry Reid; in 2008 said that Hillary Clinton would do a good job as president and donated a large sum to her campaign. 

So who has held all of these positions and said all of these things?  Donald Trump.  This begs the question, what the hell is the difference between Trump and the Democrats?  In the end not much.  At least we know what Bernie Sanders (aka Methuselah) will try to do as president; with Trump it will depend on his mood, making him the most unpredictable man to ever occupy the oval office.  This voting for the lesser of two evils thing is becoming untenable now that evil has taken on so many different faces.  For the first time in my life I'm considering not voting in a presidential election.

Gender Bending and Doctor Who: The Ruination of a Sci-Fi Legend (by ContraSuggest)

The British Sci-Fi television show Doctor Who has been an enduring cultural phenomenon for the last 50 years.  Beginning as a children's serial back in the early 1960s, producers engineered a clever way for the show to continue when its original lead actor became too ill to continue in the role.  The character of the Doctor, an alien scientist and explorer who travelled the universe in his time machine helping those in need, was able to regenerate his body when it became worn out or damaged.  So thorough was this regeneration, that it even affected his personality, facial features, height, weight and outward age.  This allowed the producers to cast new actors in the lead role at semi-regular intervals, allowing the show to go on potentially indefinitely.  The show had the distinction of being the longest running sci-fi based TV program in history.  Finally, after nearly 30 years, the BBC chose to stop producing the show.  Then in 2005, to the delight of heartbroken fans the world over, the show was revived by the BBC, proved to be immensely popular, and continues going strong to this day.

While harkening back to the spirit of the original series, the new series also blazed a trail of its own with new concepts and storylines.  Some of these changes were well-received by fans; others were not, but overall there was much enthusiasm for the reboot, which brought in high ratings thanks to a whole new generation of fans.  For the first several years the storylines were mostly fresh, bold, and interesting, but the show has long since lost its edge, descending into a sad mediocrity, despite its continued popularity.  Seemingly grand storylines are often convoluted, forgettable, and ring hollow as the closing credits role.  Amid all of this trite, worn-out fare, has been an almost ubiquitous radical social commentary, continuously glorifying many precepts of radical cultural chic.  As a huge fan and defender of the show for 35 years, I have been relegated to hanging on in quiet desperation, patiently waiting and hoping for the show to improve and recapture at least some of its former glory.  But now the unthinkable has happened; it seems that the dreaded rumors are true.  Current show runner Steven Moffat, perhaps using the foil of regeneration as a means, appears to be leaning towards changing the gender of the Doctor.        

Let’s put aside for a moment the show’s aforementioned blind acceptance and eager embrace of nearly every socio-cultural aberration that comes down the pike.  Let’s put aside for a moment that the show has long since abandoned some of the roots of the original series, those roots which successfully endeared it to millions of fans worldwide, and made the character of the Doctor into a legend.  If the gender change rumors are true, Mr. Moffat appears to have run out of creative ideas, and is attempting to fill that void by fundamentally changing one of the foundational pillars of the show.  To the original show’s creators, the Doctor’s gender was not an accident, nor did the various creative teams that worked on the show ever dream of changing it; nor would the show’s millions of fans have wanted them to.  However, in the “Lady Gaga culture” of 2014, it's considered vogue (and the pinnacle of sophistication) to see men and women as no different from one another.  Gender, once immutable in all but rare cases, is now freely interchangeable and can be chosen by people (even children) like picking out a flavor of ice cream, regardless of nature’s determinations at conception.  The influential  managers of the entertainment industry either agree with this deeply flawed notion, or go along with it, out of fear of reprisals from the radical cultural mafia.  In fact, men and women are essentially different from one another, and those differences have everything to do with why writers chose particular genders for their characters.

The Doctor’s “maleness” is just as much a part of his character as femaleness is part of any great female character.  The Doctor has always been a strong, reliable, protective male role model; throughout the years he's been alternatively cast as a wise grandfather, favorite uncle, and protective big brother; ever respectful, loyal, and ethical.  Mr. Moffat has reportedly said that he has been easing his audience into slowly accepting this absurd change because he recognizes that part of that audience is conservative.  That's no doubt true.  But does he believe that only so-called conservatives will object to this insanity?  How would fans of the X-Files, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, or Star Trek: Voyager have reacted to gender changes in the female lead characters of those shows?   What if the producers of those shows had used some sci-fi-fantasy-based plot device to transform Dana Scully, Buffy Summers or Captain Kathryn Janeway into men?  The women's lib community, hardly conservatives, would have been up in arms, and rightfully so!  This proposed move doesn't just violate tradition, it violates basic common sense, which is shared by most fans up and down the spectrum of opinion.       

Before the advent of the current series, the Dr. Who universe shared a rich history that spanned nearly 40 years, which included well over 150 storylines worth of material (between TV installments and full length feature films).  While it is the prerogative of any producer of the current series to add to the show's lore, there's clearly been a wonderful tradition of using the original series as a touchstone when doing so.  That tradition has proved popular, as evidenced in the exuberance of fans and the increased viewership that accompany the occasional return of any of the original series' legendary villains.  Fans have always griped over actual or perceived violations of continuity in the storylines.  Transforming the Doctor into a woman would be the single biggest continuity flub in the history of the program.  There is simply no precedent anywhere in the show's wide-ranging mythos that points to timelord regeneration effecting gender change.  The only precedent in the new series was Moffat's  own disastrous recasting of the Master as a woman.  There was apparently no good reason for this move, other than its cheap shock value.  Imagine the disappointment of a long-time fan who thought this woman might be the Rani until it was revealed to be the Master (oh, the pain!).  It seems that the current series' producers are more concerned with infusing the show with radical socio-political commentary than they are with emulating the imaginative excellence that brought the show to its past heights.

In closing, I implore Mr. Moffat to reconsider the direction in which he's purportedly going.  I believe him to be a thoughtful, talented man, but if his creative well is running a bit dry in terms of a fresh direction for Dr. Who, then he should pass the baton to a successor with fresh ideas.  Confusing innovation  with changing the lead character's  gender would be a lamentable mistake.  If this much talked-about change comes to pass, this diehard fan of 35 years will be permanently tuning out.  And I would ask my fellow fans to seriously consider this issue.  I obviously disagree sharply with those of you who support the proposed gender change.  But I have a message for those of you who do not: don't be bullied by the forces of social conformity who claim to be champions of inclusiveness while they attempt to exclude you from the debate.  We must present our opinion cogently and respectfully, but also with tenacity.  The integrity of a science fiction legend hangs in the balance.

America's Last Best Hope: An Article V Convention Of The States (by ContraSuggest)

In the end, only the truth matters, and I'm going to continue to tell the truth as I understand it, no matter the resistance I encounter.  None of the conventional methods and instrumentalities will be effective in saving the American people from the tyranny that our founders feared.  That tyranny is here now.  The old methods have been used over and over and over again, while the situation just gets worse by great orders of magnitude.  And if something effective isn't done soon to counter the powerful forces arrayed against us, the country will devolve into a primordial stew of decadence, decline, and irrelevancy.  We're no longer at the precipice; we've slipped over the edge of the cliff and are on the way down to destruction and oblivion.  However, even at this late hour, we still have one chance to pull ourselves back, but we do not have much time.  There is only one last card for constitutional conservatives left to play, and if we don't draw it soon, our Constitution will unravel completely and all will be lost.  This isn't exaggeration, disinformation, pessimism, alarmism, negativity, deception or doomsaying - it's the God honest truth.  There's no room in the conservative movement for the weak-kneed; we're not a bunch of porcelain dolls who will simply shatter when faced with the hard, cold truth.  If you can't handle the heat of the truth, then get the hell out of the kitchen.  Sugarcoated fantasies have no place in this war for the heart and soul of the nation. 

 Electing more Republicans is not the answer. 

 The Republican Party is not the party of conservatism.  That's not to say that there are no conservatives in the party, but rather that conservatives amount only to a small minority.  Most of the GOP is made up of big government technocrats who have been, and continue to be, complicit in the loss of our liberties that comes with a massive expansion of federal power.  This group remains in firm control of the party, and instead of shielding the American people from the abuses of a rapacious federal government, it willingly colludes with the Democrats to obliterate what's left of our liberty.  The Republican establishment shares the same goals as the Democrats, they just aim to achieve them at a slower pace.  That's why the establishment Republican's hearts are not in the fight against Obama; they eventually want most of what he wants.  The Walking Dead have just finished electing overwhelming majorities of Republicans to both houses of Congress.  Many who are concerned about Obama's unlawful executive actions and his continued expansion of Mordor's power are rejoicing.  On the eve of the election I predicted that a Republican victory would do nothing to halt Obama's dictatorial advance.  Was I correct?  In a word, yes.  Once again the Republican leadership has rolled over for our half-a-commie president and handed the Democrats, who they just crushed in the November election, everything that they wanted in the form of a pork filled, waste laden Omnibus bill that will spend your money through September of next year!  Hear this- Republicans have just annihilated the Dems, yet have allowed them to decide the budget for the next nine months!  If that's not incomprehensible and idiotic enough, the Republican leadership has unilaterally disarmed Congress by relinquishing its constitutional power of the purse, allowing Obama to illegally legalize millions of illegals.  Name one aspect of Obama's agenda that has been curtailed by the election of Republican majorities in Congress.  You cannot name one.  Remember, over the course of the past 25 years we have had some periods of Republican majorities in Congress, as we have had Republican presidents.  Where has it gotten us?  The government now spends more, taxes more, regulates more, and is in more debt than it has ever been in our history, and Mordor is becoming more and more powerful, regulating and micro managing every single aspect of our lives.  Yes, I would rather have a wishy-washy Republican in office rather than some outright socialist Democrat, but in the end the difference is negligible.  Let me finish this point with the following analogy: a Democrat Party victory is like the nation getting a pancreatic cancer diagnosis; a Republican Party victory is like the nation getting a colon cancer diagnosis.  They're both cancer; one is just more treatable.  How sad that our elected officials are so contemptuous of our constitutionally granted liberties that they can accurately be compared to a cancer.                  

 How An Article V Convention Would Work

Our Constitution provides two methods for amendment.  In the 227 years that document has been in effect, one of those methods has never been used.  It was purposefully conceived by the Founders so that the states and the people would have a peaceful means of recourse in the event that the federal government became oppressive.  Embedded in Article V, this provision allows for the state legislatures to call for a convention of the states to discuss and propose amendments to the Constitution.  In the event that two-thirds of the state convention delegates agree to the proposed amendment(s), then the 50 state legislatures would vote them up or down; if three-fourths agree, the amendment(s) are automatically ratified as part of the Constitution.  It's important to note that the federal government, (the president, Congress, and the courts) are shut out of this process and can only observe as it unfolds; they are not in any way legally empowered to intervene.  With a lawless president in office, the federal government carrying out unconstitutional acts on a daily basis, and a majority of state legislatures in the hands of Republicans, the time for an Article V convention is now!  An organization called The Convention Of The States Project is laboring hard to start the process by providing legal informational council to state legislators who're committed to the process.  Legislatures in several states have formed exploratory committees to get the ball rolling.  I know that some feel that this process is too much of a long shot, that it could be co-opted by leftists, that it's too risky.  My answer to those fears is that this is the only option open to us, short of unconstitutional actions and open, armed rebellion.  Since the alternative is a massive bloodbath, I chose the Article V convention process.  Put simply, we cannot save our Constitution by violating it.

Thanks to the great Mark Levin, who taught me most of what I know about this subject, I hope I haven't misrepresented his wisdom. 

Why The Republican Election Victory is Almost Meaningless (by ContraSuggest)

My goal has always been for this blog to be more than just a collection of silly, cliché-filled rants.  A fair amount of research is done in order that these posts will be intelligible, and, I hope, cause people to at least think harder about the various subjects addressed. I know that the several people who regularly visit here are deep thinkers, who care enough about our country, that they're deeply troubled at the disastrous direction in which we're headed.  We have always shared frustration over our inability to get through to most of our co-workers and acquaintances on the subject of the ongoing national crisis.  Some of you are probably celebrating the sweeping nationwide Republican victories after Tuesday night's election.  There are some things to celebrate for sure: here on Long Island, six-term liberal Democrat Congressman Timothy Bishop, the Island's political version of the Ebola virus, suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of the young Lee Zeldin.  Lee has now rid Long Island of two political cancers; several years ago having defeated the benumbed Brian Foley (sponsor of NY's dreaded MTA Tax) in a race for the state's 2nd senate district (thank you Lee, we owe you a great debt!).  The malicious and deranged Senate majority leader Harry Reid has been deposed, and the Democrats are now relegated to minority status in both houses of Congress.  OK, the election is over now, so let's put the party hats and hooters away and come back down to earth, shall we?

On election night, a good friend texted me a note saying that it was looking good for the GOP, but that he wasn't sure how it all translated for constitutional conservatives like us.  His implication hit the nail on the head; here's what I wrote back:

Allow me to translate: RINOs, who possess neither the will nor the courage to stand up to Obama, will now control Congress.  He'll now use his executive authority and the power of his executive regulatory departments (all unconstitutionally) to continue to dismantle the republic.  Efforts by the few in Congress who have the will to stop him, will be marginalized by the RINOs, stymied by the bureaucracy and the leftist courts, and eviscerated by Obama's media-driven spin machine.

Even prior to the election, the befuddled Mitch McConnell announced that, if Republicans were victorious, he would agree to the passage of a massive Omnibus bill that would consolidate multiple bills sought after by Obama and Reid.  These Omnibus packages are stuffed with pork on a grand scale that represent billions in wasteful spending.  McConnell's warped rationale is that he wants to quickly conclude business in the lame duck session so that the new Republican majority can start with a clean slate in January.  He's already sold us out and he hasn't even assumed his role as majority leader yet.  The Obama administration was very quiet about their plans for a post-election, unilateral executive branch regulatory blitz.  The White House Mafia has mobilized the federal immigration authorities, the EPA, HUD, and other federal departments to unleash imperial rules and regulations, in an end-run around Congress, to grant amnesty for millions of illegals, enshrine new restrictions on power plants, institute new unnecessary federal minority housing laws, and more.  All of this in violation of the constitution's separation of powers, steamrolling over state and local authorities with a massive, liberty curtailing federal/executive branch power grab.  The lame duck senate will be complicit in all of this; not to mention that body's likely rubber stamping of the capo-in-chief 's midnight judges and other nominees, before the Republicans take over in the new year.

And how will the new senate RINO majority react to all of this?  C'mon everyone, you know they'll do absolutely nothing about it!  Sure, McConnell will mumble a little whimpering, feckless protest, there'll be the usual few brave voices who will speak up, sponsor legislation, and deliver a few scathing floor speeches.  But those few will not have the backing of the leadership of their own party, their efforts will die, we'll lose another modicum of our liberty, and it will be back to business as usual.  There have been Republican majorities before, and what have they gotten us?  The federal government is spending more, taxing more, regulating more, and in more debt than it has ever been in our history; this proceeds apace no matter who's in charge.  Phony tofu conservatives like Mitch McConnell, John Boehner, and their big-government liberal lap dogs are not the answer, and we all know it. 

 

So now that I took a crap on your parade, what's the solution to this huge and ever-growing mess?  Well, to be perfectly honest, there are no easy solutions.  We must continue to educate the public, continue to encourage voters to select constitutional conservatives in Republican primaries, continue to write checks to conservative advocacy organizations, continue to write letters of protest when our elected officials blow their noses in the constitution, and yes, vote for the slightly less evil Republicans over the more evil Democrats, until such time that conservatives gain a real foothold in the GOP party machine.  But make no mistake, these steps, while necessary, will not succeed in saving this country.  For years, the great Mark Levin has been educating the public through his nationally syndicated radio show and his outstanding books.  He's provided the roadmap for national salvation; now we need to follow it.  Ultimately, the only chance we have of turning the ship around, is to continue to encourage state legislators all over the country to sign on to an Article V convention of the states, to consider amendments to our federal Constitution.  This will be one of the most important national dialogs in our history, and it must take place if liberty is to survive in this country.  Only amendments to the Constitution, designed to reinforce the Founders' intent, that we have so callously and foolishly abandoned, are obligatory.  We need amendments to establish balanced budgets, term limits for all elected officials and the federal judiciary, to abolish the 17th amendment, and to generally reinforce the separation of powers and states' rights; necessary constitutional principles which have been intentionally flouted on the way to a counterfeit socialist "utopia."  Pretending that last night's Republican election victory is the answer to America's institutional problems, is just simply delusional.

Miriam's Prayer (Sailing Home From Byzantium) (by ContraSuggest)

As I entered the room the not unpleasing odor of scented disinfectant immediately reminded me that I had done quite a thorough cleaning up only a few days before.  I gently closed the finished oak door behind me, an act that is usually quite effective in sealing off the pressures of the outside world.  But not today.  It was my first day, just after 3 o’clock on a particularly dreary Wednesday afternoon, and there were under three hours left until the next shift.  For the first time since the previous afternoon I was completely alone.  I had neither the energy nor the will to remove my coat and shoes and so I collapsed on the bed as I was.  I felt very much like some weary travelling salesman arriving in the middle of the night in the lonely hotel room of some strange town.   Along with my reading glasses, I pulled some other flotsam from my left-hand coat pocket and placed it all next to me on the old nightstand on top of an old book of poetry by Yates.  The nightstand was part of a hundred-year-old bedroom set that originally belonged to my father’s grandparents.  The set was composed of two nightstands, a dresser, armoire, and a bedstead with head and footboards.  The walnut set, with its burl panels and applied decorations, gave the room a touch of old world décor that hearkened the past and denied the present.  It had many owners throughout the years until I inherited it about ten years ago.  There was an awful lot of history in that old set; it had a lot of character, from the cigarette burn on the front right surface edge of the dresser to the slight musty, storage room type odor of the lightly colored wood.  The top of the furniture, as always, was littered with everything from clothes to the tiny, bundled pieces of paper that I often jot scattered thoughts on and leave lying around.  On the dresser, draped around the shade of a small bronze colored lamp, was a set of wooden rosary beads that a family friend brought home from a recent sojourn in Medjugorje.  Aside from a small, makeshift entertainment center that houses a TV/VCR and stereo/CD mini-system, cabinets containing hundreds of compact disks, LP Records, and video and audiocassette tapes occupied the remainder of the floor space.  An anachronistic contrast to the olden furniture for sure, and although any self-respecting practitioner of Feng Shui would condemn the room as a functional nightmare, it worked well for me.

The architecture in this section of the house included permanent shelves, about three and a half feet from the floor that jutted out from the wall about a foot, and ran nearly the whole inside perimeter of each room.  In my room, this permanent shelf, with the exception of a few scattered refugees, contained my ever-growing, collection of arcane books.  On the gray painted long wall above the books hung a framed replica of Van Gogh’s painting of an almond tree.  Van Gogh, although a tragic figure who usually captured the sorrows of life through his art, had created this painting in honor of the birth of his nephew.  Its bright yellows, rich china blues, and forest greens reflected joy from the heart of a man who was said to have been despondent most of his life.  That symbolism was very personal to me.  On the ceiling just above the bed I had installed a strip of electric track from which hung four adjustable bell-shaped fixtures.  The fixtures each contained a different colored light bulb which, when switched on, created an atmosphere in the room that lay somewhere between that of a planetarium lobby and Greg Brady’s psychedelic attic bedroom.  The room contained everything that I would ever need; it was always my greatest refuge from the vicissitudes of life.  As I lay pondering, I came to realize that my right hand was still in my coat pocket clutching the small laminated card that on one side read “In Loving Memory Of” followed by my mother’s name, and the likeness of Christ on the other.  The dates read “April 8, 1942” followed by “February 12, 1995,” just two days ago.  I placed the card on the nightstand in between a mug, half full with day-old tea, and an old deck of worn tarot cards.  I was dreading the next shift; I almost couldn’t bear to go back.  As I drifted off into a fitful sleep, earnestly praying for the first time since childhood, I was forced to face the cold fact that within the erstwhile protective confines of the room, I would no longer be granted asylum.

In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.

As I sat on my parents’ four poster bed, switching through the TV channels looking for cartoons, I stopped on the Channel 7 News and listened to Bill Beutel for a minute.  No one really seemed to think that Ford would be the president for very long; my parents and teachers seemed to agree with the 6’oclock news reporters, who treated him as if he was babysitting the White House until a new, legitimate, fulltime president came along.  Ford had been the vice president under Nixon, who everyone seemed to hate for some scandal called Watergate, which, as an eight year old boy, I knew less about than I knew about Einstein’s General Theory of Relativity.  All I did know is that it was a very very bad thing, and Nixon was forced to resign the presidency in disgrace over it.  Although it didn’t cause me to lose any sleep, I found the whole notion of a lawless, rogue president to be disturbing, which further alienated me to the evil Republican Party, to which Nixon and Ford both belonged.  As usual, in the absence of either cartoons or cheesy sci-fi programs, there was nothing on TV that could hold my attention for more than a minute.  As my mind wandered, so did my eyes; from the wood and ivory crucifix hanging above the bed, to my father’s mahogany wooden gun cabinet that contained his hunting rifles, to my mother’s nightstand, which always had some book or other laying on top of it.  My mother often read in the evenings before bed; usually some adult-themed stuff that was off limits to us kids, which always seemed vaguely dangerous.  I always made a point of thumbing through those strange books when she wasn’t around, to try to learn what I could about subjects forbidden to eight-year olds.  But on this particular occasion, I immediately recognized the book that was on her nightstand, and it made my blood run cold as I drew closer to pick it up.  The Exorcist had also been adapted into a major motion picture of the same name, which was said to be the most frightening movie of all time; it was advertised on TV, in all the newspapers, and a lot of the kids at school talked about it, often in hushed tones.  This movie was scaring the shit out of some adults that I thought couldn’t be scared of anything.  My hand trembled as I picked the book up off the nightstand.  I didn’t know the whole story, but as far as I could tell, based on a true account, it was about this innocent little girl, not much older than I was at the time, who gets possessed by a demon that forces her to do all sorts of disgusting things to her mother and the two Catholic priests who attempt to save her.  The understated, yet terrifying, cover photo was a slightly obscured image of the little girl’s face while apparently in the beginning stages of her possession.  Unlike the Watergate scandal, the very existence of this book most definitely made me lose sleep.  Many a night I lay awake in bed, frozen in fear that a demon would enter into my life as had happened to the girl in the story.  I very quickly learned how to pray.

Our Father, Who art in heaven: Sanctificetur nomen tuum: Adveniat regnum tuum: Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo, et in terra.  Give us this day our daily bread: Et dimitte nobis debita nostra, sicut et dimittimus debitoribus nostris. And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil. Amen.

The well-dressed man in the dark suit with the strange symbol pinned to his lapel seemed to know everything about me.  He knew my parents, my sisters, and minute details about my grandparents that he was seemingly too young to know from personal experience.  Yet he spoke with an air of well-informed eloquence about my family that impressed me no end.  I was puzzled when he told me that he had never been particularly close with any of them, yet had always wished to be.  He made several other strange statements, the most remarkable of which was that he could help me deal with my grief in unique ways.  He handed me a business card which I couldn’t read because I had earlier neglected to grab my glasses on my way out of the house; I could barely make out the very same symbol on the card that he sported on his lapel.  I was about to press him for more information as I placed the card in my inside coat pocket, when we were interrupted by others wishing to express condolences.  The man stepped to the back of the parlor, and as I greeted others, I noticed that he proceeded to stare at me with a somewhat disturbing grin on his face.  After about fifteen minutes he was gone, although I never actually saw him leave.  As the flow of people began to die down, I slipped into the lobby, but there was no sign of the mysterious stranger.  Exhausted, I went off to a quiet, low-lit alcove, slipped into a large brown leather easy chair and once again drifted off into an uneasy sleep.


Ave Maria, gratia plena: the Lord is with thee, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Iesus.  Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc et in the hour of our death. Amen.

I couldn’t remember how long I had been trapped down below in the hold of the old galleon.  It was so dark I could hardly discern the layout of the room, but as I felt around I discovered a bed, some old furniture, books, a deck of cards, a string of wooden beads, a still-warm cup half-filled with what smelled like tea, and a plate on which there were several pieces of hard dry bread.  Somehow I finally managed to make my way to the foot of the steep, long staircase that presumably led up to the deck.  It felt as if I had been so cold, for so long, that I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to once again feel the sun against my face.  Thoughts of sunshine quickly left my mind though, for any weather inclement enough to create the turbulence that buffeted me violently from side to side, as I slowly began my ascent, would surely blot out the sun with little effort.  Trying to maintain my balance under these conditions was hard enough; to make matters worse the dilapidated stairway’s splintered boards wreaked havoc on the bottoms of my bare feet.  The room I was leaving behind contained everything necessary for my basic survival, and what lay up on the deck was almost certainly malignant.  I kept questioning my decision to leave these relatively familiar surroundings, I so badly wanted to turn back, but some unseen force kept me going nonetheless.  After what seemed like an eternity I finally reached the top of the staircase and faced the final obstacle in my attempt to reach the deck.

The towering oak door that stood before me was ominous with its peeling, weathered surface, and thanks to a small dimly lit oil lamp mounted above the door, I could barely make out small circular marks resembling burns left from extinguished cigarettes.  Despite its old, rundown appearance it was quite sturdy and formed a near-perfect seal with the buck; the doorknob was locked tight and very little light could be seen through the cracks.  I could hear heavy rain pounding the door on the other side, accompanied by intermittent cracks of thunder; strong flashes of lightning provided momentary illumination in the near darkness, as trickles of water found their way underneath the door.  The weather outside presumably had grown worse during my ascent, as was evidenced by the ever-worsening rocking of the ship.  Even though I could barely keep my footing I continued to try to get the door open, my efforts included throwing myself against the barrier in frustration.  Finally, I realized that despite my best efforts the door wasn’t going to budge; worse still, the turbulence had become even more severe.  Sitting down on the narrow landing in front of the door with my feet braced against one wall and my back against the other was the only way to save myself from falling back down the staircase.  There I sat for a long while, and at the point where my body had become sufficiently exhausted, I realized that my only prospect was to descend the stairs once again as best I could, and forget this crazy notion of ever getting free.  As I sat with my eyes closed and head bowed, the turbulence abruptly ceased.  The suddenness of the change was so stark that I could hardly believe it.  One moment the most violent shock waves, next the quietest stillness.  I opened my eyes and raised my head only to see the large door, ominous and sturdy-looking as ever, gently and slowly swing open, seemingly by itself.  Much to my surprise, almost shock really, I was nearly blinded by the sun burning brightly overhead.  Not only wasn’t there a cloud in the sky but the deck was completely dry, no sign of moisture whatsoever.  Raising my hand before me to shield my eyes from the sun, I took my first step out onto the deck.

The warmth of the sun was heaven-sent, it seemed to immediately rejuvenate me, and I no longer felt the pain of the bruises that I’d sustained climbing up the stairs and throwing myself against the “impenetrable” door.  The sails were up and the ship was cutting water, nicely making-way, but again, no crew in sight.  Was this a ghost ship?  The strange, and vaguely familiar symbol on the flag flying atop the mast struck a raw nerve in me, but I wasn’t exactly sure why.  I walked to the edge of the deck and looked over the side in an effort to spot some land; I saw nothing but calm, blue seas seemingly stretching into the infinite.  Finally I decided that I needed to make my way to the ship’s helm; for if any member of the crew was still on board they would most certainly be there.  If no one were steering this vessel then all would be lost anyway, because I don’t know the first thing about navigating a ship.  After exploring for a while I finally stumbled up into the wheel room and found, to my disappointment and horror, that it was completely empty.  Apparently someone had placed one end of a long wooden pole between the rungs of the wheel, the other end of which fit into a hole drilled into the floor.  This presumably was a makeshift automatic pilot that prevented the ship from deviating too far to the port or starboard from its intended course; whatever that was.  On a table next to an old dust covered sextant, there was some barely legible writing on a an old parchment, which seemed to make reference to the "holy city of Byzantium", which made little sense to me.  I tossed the parchment back onto the table in frustration, if there truly wasn’t anyone on board, my options were limited.  Would I helplessly wait until the ship ran aground, collided with another vessel, or sank?

As I exited the wheel room I began to call out in desperation to anyone who might be in earshot, but no one answered.  Finally I thought I spotted a darkly dressed figure, barely within my field of vision, down on the deck.  I bolted from the wheel room down toward the direction of the man.    My heart was beating so fast I thought that it would pound its way right through my rib cage.  I called out as I approached the man, who didn’t turn to face me until I was right behind him.  As he laid his eyes on me, his expression at once changed from a twisted scowl to an almost sinister grin.  Out of breath, and before I could rattle-off any one of a thousand questions rolling around in my head, he temporarily disarmed me by warmly greeting me, by name.  As I gathered my thoughts, I sized up the oddly familiar stranger.  He was smartly dressed all in black; a fully buttoned mock-collar shirt, pleated trousers, distressed leather bucket boots, and a single-breasted crushed-velvet frock coat.  His embroidered lapel emblem was identical to the eerie symbol on the ship’s flag.  “Who are you,” I sputtered.  “My name” he coolly responded, “is unimportant.”  He extended his hand in welcome, which I ignored, “I don’t know you, so how the fuck do you know my name?”  “You’re right, you don’t know me, but I know everything about you, and I can help you,” he smugly replied.  “Well, you can start by telling me how I got here!”  “You came from below,” he answered, “don’t you remember?  I was the one who released you from the hold, or did you think that door opened by itself?”  “I have no idea how it opened,” I shot back, “and no more smart ass answers, how did I get on this ship?!”  Before he could answer, I found myself getting lightheaded, my vision became blurred and suddenly the landscape began to change; the clear blue skies and calm seas gave way to choppy waters and dark overcast clouds, as the ship seemed to gain speed.  In the distance, but rapidly approaching, was a huge landmass beginning to fill the horizon, ablaze like an inferno.  I never imagined anything like it.  It got so hot so fast that within a minute my clothes were drenched with sweat and my skin was burning.  My nameless interlocutor stood there, seemingly unaffected by the searing heat, displaying that same smug and unsettling grin; I clenched my right fist with the intention of smashing it off his face.  Suddenly, I found that I was unable to move a muscle, as the intense heat continued to burn me alive.  Just before the ship was about to collide with the massive conflagration, I could read his lips as he mouthed the words, “you have always been on this ship.”  The last thing I remember seeing before blacking out was a broken string of wooden beads in his hand.

Gloria Patri, et Filio, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit.  As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

There’s possibly no greater comfort to an insecure, socially awkward, pre-teen than a two month long summer vacation.  When I was a kid, those long summer days filled with countless hours of T.V., toys, comic books, and swimming were well-needed medicine for a mentally frail boy who, during the school year, averaged one mini nervous breakdown per week.  Well, that may be overstating the case just a bit; there were some down sides to summer vacation; like my father breaking my balls from time to time about mowing the lawn or cleaning up the house.  Then there were the occasional fist fights with assorted neighborhood thugs, who seemed to deal with their summer boredom by making my life miserable.  But most of the time I was relaxing and having fun.  On Saturday nights my parents would occasionally invite the neighbors over for coffee or drinks, and we kids would go do our thing while the grownups did theirs.  Once in a while I would get to spying on the grownups, and on several occasions witnessed some pretty disturbing stuff.  No crazy sexual swinging crap, or anything like that, but weird and frightening nonetheless.  One night, for instance, our neighbors from across the street came by with one of those foldable lightweight aluminum card tables, so naturally I figured an exhilarating game of pinochle would soon break out.  But that’s not what happened at all; instead all the adults sat around the table, lightly placed their fingertips on the table’s edges in front of them, and took turns asking questions aloud; not to one another, but to some unobserved party.  The strange questions, beginning with “is there anyone out there?” were of the yes or no variety.  Often, but not always, the table would slightly, gently rise and fall to the kitchen’s tile floor.  As the neighbors explained to my parents, one tap constituted a “yes” response; two taps meant “no”.  At first I thought our neighbors were playing some kind of trick on my parents, but as I observed closely it was clear that the table was moving all by itself.  As I sat out of sight, watching, spellbound, the atmosphere became more and more bizarre as long Q&A sessions ensued purportedly with some physically absent responder.  The subjects included predictions of future events, information about deceased relatives, and other illicit themes.  There seemed to be a vague trepidation in the air during the whole session, as if something seductive and dangerous was being released from some unseen vessel.  Apparently, the session was considered to be over when the table stopped moving and several questions went unanswered.  On this occasion, after a thrice repeated unanswered query, an eerie hushed silence fell over the room; suddenly, and without apparent cause, an empty crystal punch bowl tumbled off the countertop and smashed into hundreds of pieces on the ground, scaring the shit out of everyone, causing the women to scream, and nearly causing me to soil myself.  After cleaning up the mess on the floor, the shaken adults poured some more drinks and excitedly talked about the experience for hours.  All these years later I can’t remember much of the details of those conversations; all I can remember is the pall of dark apprehension that seemed to fall over the house, and my feelings of impending dread.

By the sign of the cross all magic is stopped, all sorcery confounded, all the idols are abandoned, and all senseless pleasure ceases, as the eye of faith looks up from earth and perceives heaven- Saint Athanasius

The brightest, whitest, most brilliant light that I had ever seen was all around me, yet my eyes were as relaxed as if I had opened them in the dark.  My skin no longer burned, and at first there was nothing else to be seen other than the beautiful light.  As I became more aware of my surroundings, it occurred to me that I was laying on my back looking upward.  I wouldn’t have known this except for the lovely woman’s face looking down at me, my head resting in her lap as she lovingly held the weight of my sins in her arms.  Her face was white as pure light and her clothes beamed like the sun; somehow the light of her soft face outshone even the omnipresent glow of our radiant surroundings.  Miriam seemed to know my questions before I asked them, answering with comforting assurances and often speaking of her loving son, whose light she reflected onto me.  I told her of my experience on the galleon, and how it still terrified my soul to its core.  Before I completed the thought, I found myself once again standing on the deck of the old ship, but this time the immaculate lady was at my side.  Her son now reigned here; as I came to realize later, he always had.  No longer at sea, the ship was now docked in the harbor of a magnificent shining city, the quayside bustling with activity; stevedores at work, all manner of people coming and going.  Atop the ship’s cruciform mast, the flag that once bore the baleful icon of the well-dressed man was gone, and in its place was a banner marked with the image of a lamb.  When my lady spoke, I could more feel her words than hear them, “you have glimpsed into hell, where the souls of poor sinners go.  In order to save them, and yourself, God wishes to establish in the world devotion to my immaculate heart.”  I acknowledged her words without speaking, as the lines of her face began to dissolve into the pure white light.  She continued, “sacrifice yourself for sinners and pray the rosary daily to help sinners avoid the fires of Gehenna.”  Before my lady’s image disappeared completely, she motioned for me to go ashore.  After disembarking, I looked back, and she was gone.

Domine Iesu, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of hell, and lead all souls to heaven, especially those most in need of Thy mercy

I peacefully awoke in the lobby of the funeral home feeling well rested; the final shift had arrived at last.  I checked the breast pocket of my coat, finding the well-dressed man’s business card.  Getting up and walking towards the parlor, I tore the card into pieces and deposited it into the nearest garbage pail.  And for possibly the first time in my life, as I crossed the threshold from the lobby into the parlor, I realized that there might be possibilities open to me other than decline and despair.

Hail, holy Queen, Mother of mercy, our life, our sweetness and our hope. To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears. Turn, then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy toward us, and after this, our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus. O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary.  Pray for us, O holy Mother of God.  That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.