conspiracy musings

“All that happens is as habitual and familiar as roses
in spring and fruit in the summer.
True too of disease, death, defamation, and conspiracy—and
all that delights or gives pain to fools.”

Marcus Aurelius


(apple blossoms /Julie Cook/ 2020)

Now you should know I don’t believe in aliens.

No area 51…no code blue book.

And I don’t necessarily believe in ghosts…

But… I do believe in spiritual warfare…
meaning…demons/evil and angels/heavenly are defintily real.

However…

The jury remains out on this whole virus business.

Where are the real power players during all of this?
Have we heard from George Soros?
Hillary or Bill?

Where are those who believe they wield world power and domination?

It does make for intriguing thoughts while one is confined to quarters going on
now nearly 5 weeks, with a houseful of demanding family.

China seems now almost giddy.
Free and ready to rally en masse.

All the while our stock market rides a daily roller coaster and our
fellow Americans “screw” one another to the wall over essentials such as toilet paper
and Lysol.

To mask or not to mask…that is the question.

How does such a virus make such rounds in such a short and narrow window?

There is a southern county in our state that has experienced some of the highest
numbers of cases and deaths.
It is not near a metropolitan area, yet it has maintained a consistency with Fulton County,
home to Atlanta…

It is all so strange and surreal.

And is it not odd that we may readily go to and from various stores and businesses
albeit at qued distances…yet our houses of worships, are deemed by law, forbidden?

If ever we needed a church to open its doors to those who might wish to pray
or simply sit and ponder…it is now!

Yet faith and the observance of such is suddenly deemed non-essential.

Oh the irony in such thinking…

And Jesus answered them, “Have faith in God.
Truly, I say to you, whoever says to this mountain,
‘Be taken up and thrown into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart,
but believes that what he says will come to pass, it will be done for him.
Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer,
believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.

Mark 11:22-24

Bitterness

Between the uprightness of my conscience and the hardness of my lot,
I know not how either to show respect to my feelings or to the times.
The bitterness of my mind urges me at all hazards to speak what I think,
whereas the necessity of the times prompts me, however unbecomingly,
to keep silence.
Good God!
Which way shall I turn myself?

Thomas Becket


(5 o’clock somewhere / Julie Cook / 2020)

Way back in the early ’80s, I was but a young naive, early twenty-something art teacher.

As an art educator, I thought it was my duty, meaning I had the bright idea,
that I should create a European adventure in order to take my students upon—
one that would focus on the great art capitals of Europe.

Ahhhhh…

Note to self…when you are mid-twenties…don’t take teens on a trip…
especially out of the country.

And don’t do it when terrorism was actually becoming a thing
and there was no such things as cell phones.

That will be another story for another day.

However, for now, I want to share one little story.

At that time, as a young art teacher, who had recently been a young student myself,
I had a deep love and fascination with all things Italian.

I had minored in Art History with a focus on the Italian Renaissance.
Italy was, to me, the mecca of the art world.
And to truly appreciate such, I had immersed myself in all things Italian.

As a kid, I always loved Italian food, albeit 1960’s Americana Italian.
As an adopted kid, I just knew my true roots were Italian.

Was I not the secret love child of Sophia Loren???

Yet sadly that all actually proved to be a Scotch / Irish and English background,
but I digress.

So when our little adventure finally brought us to Italian soil, I had the
bright idea that I would, by gosh, treat myself to a quintessential Italian drink…
Campari.

That glistening brilliant red Italian liqueur.
I had seen all the famous advertisement posters… Campari was THE
Italian drink…

I remember marching up to a bar at a disco we had taken to kids to enjoy
and boldly telling the bartender I would like a Campari on the rocks.

Oh I felt so Sophia Lorenesque—-waiting on Dean Martin to come croon me a sweet Italian
love song.

I was so excited, so full of expectation…that was all until I brought that glass to my
expectant lips and took a big swallow.

There are no words for the nano-moments following.

It was a swallow followed by a quick spitting out what remained in my mouth.

Oh my great heavens above, I had just ingested kerosene!!!

A fire was now coursing down my throat as the bitter taste of poison cloyingly
coated my mouth.

If not some sublime red delightful liquid, what in the heck was Campari!!!?????

Oh, what my naivete and immature taste did not understand of aperitifs and digestifs
and more importantly bitters.

A story I now recall fondly as I’ve actually acquired quite the taste for Campari–
albeit mixed with a bit of lime and prosecco.
In more of a spritz verses that of a hardcore sipper.

And all this talk of bitters brings me full circle to our lives today.

For we are living during some bitter days.

A shadowy Spector seems to be waiting on each of us with some sort of sadistic
bated breath.

We are finding ourselves isolated, dislocated and as if living in some strange foreign land.

Our world has been literally turned upside down.

And how ironic that we should find ourselves in the midst of one of the holiest times
in all of Christendom—the week leading to Good Friday…and eventually Easter.

A time of jubilation followed by humility, betrayal, torture, and eventually death…

It is a bitter time.
A time of gall and bile.
A time of blood and vomit.

Not a pretty picture.
Not a picture of sweet little bunnies and precious little lambs.

This is a time of reality.

A time of life, lies, deceit, and death.

And how odd that our world now is actually walking the same sacred
walk we Christians have walked now for nearly 2000 years…
the Via Dolorosa…

A painful and difficult journey.

Yet what we followers of Christ already know…
the ending is not nearly as tragic as the world would have us believe.

Victory, in the end, is truly ours.

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes,
and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning,
nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

our resolve

“It is not enough that we do our best;
sometimes we must do what is required.”

―Winston S. Churchill

I have never lived through a world war, although I have lived through wars.
I have not lived during a pandemic, although I have experienced illnesses.

I have not physically wandered through a wilderness, though I have known
the loneliness of the wilderness.
I have not experienced a physical death, but I have known the loss and isolation of death.

I do, however, know paradox because we are currently living in such an anomaly.

Our current situation is not typical nor is it one that we can fully comprehend.

On some levels, life remains as we know it.
On others, not so much.

I still find great frustration in the cars I see driving constantly on the roads.
I am frustrated that we are told one thing and most choose to ignore the mandates.
The consequences of ignorance puts us all at great peril and risk.

Yet what of economics and loss?

What is the correct wisdom?

Stay in and isolated or open up and encourage commerce?

I agree with what I read from a fellow blogger’s post:
I have a sense of shame for myself which is natural.
How much more should I have been prepared spiritually for such an event as this?

(https://smokeofsatan.wordpress.com/2020/04/05/are-we-entering-the-false-world-of-virtual-reality-virtual-truth-and-virtual-church/)

And I greatly enjoyed the speech offered yesterday by The Queen of England.

Whereas the Queen gives her usual Christmas greeting to her Commonwealth,
this particular speech was one of only a handful that she has delivered to her Nation
during times of grief or need.

I respect her words of wisdom and resolve, in part because I know she has lived in
times that I have not.
She has maintained, now for her 93 years, a resolve that some would find harsh
while others would find stalwart and actually comforting.

I am of the latter thinking…

A few highlights—

“While we have faced challenges before, this one is different.”

“I hope in the years to come everyone will be able to take pride in how they responded to this challenge,”
And, those who come after us will say that the Britons of this generation were as strong as any,
that the attributes of self-discipline, of quiet, good-humored resolve,
and of fellow feeling still characterize this country.”

“The pride in who we are is not part of our past.
It defines our present and our future.

“We will succeed, and that success will belong to every one of us,” she concluded.
“We should take comfort that while we may have more still to endure, better days will return.
We will be with our friends again.
We will be with our families again.
We will meet again. But for now, I send my thanks and warmest good wishes to you all.”

our entry into the future…

No pain, no palm; no thorns, no throne;
no gall, no glory; no cross, no crown.

William Penn


(The Latin Times 2017)

“Today, we remember not just Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem in the past,
but also his entry in the future.”

Unknown

somewhere past Orion’s Belt

“Can you bind the chains of the Pleiades?
Can you loosen Orion’s belt?
Can you bring forth the constellations in their seasons
or lead out the Bear with its cubs?
Do you know the laws of the heavens?
Can you set up God’s dominion over the earth?

Job 38:31-33


(Orin’s belt constelation)

Stepping out into a mild early April night…
Knowing that the world has gone mad,
I look up, wondering where you are.

Craziness awaits inside and out while I search the night sky.

Orion’s belt.

I quickly search through the vast darkness.
Are you there…somewhere beyond those stars?

Orion’s belt…
those three aligned stars that have always guided those who
have journeyed through the night.

Desperately and viscerally filled with pain, I long to see your face…just one more time.
to hear your voice…
to relish in your wisdom…
to rest in your embrace.

Can you look down, seeing me, looking up?

Oh for the comfort found in the cadence of your melodious voice…
Your soothing words as I wade my way through this mindfield that is now our world.

A strange new world that I do not care for.
I did not ask for this…but I know you did not ask for your own path.

We share a common bond…adoption.
Lost before we felt found.

Each struggling to make our own way.
You painfully watched my own struggle, knowing that I had to go on my own.

I still struggle and somehow there is comfort in that struggle because
I know you know.

Your had your own battles.
You fought through a world war.
Your heart broke watching your own children fall…
and you unselfishly added me to that fold.

You helped to guide a major southern city through her Civil Rights angst.
You met dignitaries along with the homeless, treating each one as the same.

And despite all the power players and demands, you remained my polestar…my guiding light.
Always pointing me toward which direction I should go.

And yet oddly now, I too have become a Polestar…
A signpost pointing others to their own direction.

Yet in all of this, I wonder… how am I to know which way is right?
How did you know?

You trusted in something, in someone, so much greater than yourself.

You always knew.

You listened and you fought your way through the brambles and vines
that vied to entangle you.

You knew I would and could do the same.

The world is now so odd.
So strange.

Not like anything we’ve ever known.

And yet there remains the signpost…pointing the way.
I hear your confidence and clarity.

Just as I see it when glancing in the night sky..
It’s somewhere just past Orion’s belt…


(Julie and her Godpoppa August 1983)

“He was there alone with himself, collected, tranquil, adoring,
comparing the serenity of his heart with the serenity of the skies,
moved in the darkness by the visible splendors of the constellations,
and the invisible splendor of God, opening his soul to the thoughts which fall from the Unknown.
In such moments, offering up his heart at the hour when the flowers of night inhale their perfume,
lighted like a lamp in the center of the starry night,
expanding his soul in ecstasy in the midst of the universal radiance of creation,
he could not himself perhaps have told what was passing in his own mind;
he felt something depart from him, and something descend upon him,
mysterious interchanges of the depths of the soul with the depths of the universe.”

Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

firstly…

“Detachment produces a peculiar state of mind.
Maybe that’s the worst sentence of all,
to be deprived of feeling what a human being ought to be entitled to feel.”

James Dickey

Firstly—
the magic hour currently is 2PM.
Why you ask??

I live for 2PM…

Secondly,
Spring is in the air and we know that lots of bad decisions have been being made…
think Spring Breakers who each defied rational thinking and opted to live large and,
what has now turned out to be actually, living deadly.

Dumb, stupid and selfish…but such is Spring Break and youth—as are the adults
who claim to be their parents–all for having allowed them to go in the first place…
but I digress.

Here, closer to home, we have some Spring breakers who are also not demonstrating wise
decision making…

It seems the purple finches have decided that our last leg of a front porch light
should be the location for all things amore…and egg-laying.

The problem has been getting any and all straw and whatnots to stay in place and
not simply fall out.
Then there’s the matter of the physical getting in and out.
Throw in the overt swinging when there’s a storm or simply wind…
all of which, I imagine, will make for seasick residents.

Thirdly…
I had to venture back out into the land of contagion today to the supermarket in order to gather
more supplies—namely more baby food—along with adult people food as well as some cat food.
My husband has suggested that we simply let the cats run loose to seek out field rats but
I will save that as a last resort.

Fourthly, but still related to thirdly,

Our local hospital has issued the grade of a D for our community on following the guidelines
of sheltering indoors.
This sort of disturbing news comes as this small brood of mine has all but killed one another
as we’ve sheltered in place now for nearly three weeks…all but for my treks out for supplies.

Our county ranks 7th in our state of 159 counties for active cases of Covid19.
I am ashamed that we have been given the grade of D…
Selfish idiots live among us and it all makes me so mad.

I read a story of how some Maine residents took matters into their own hands when a neighbor
would not stay put…meaning they wouldn’t shelter in place.
So they cut down a tree across the neighbor’s driveway.

I’m wondering if I can randomly go out and cut trees down all over our county…

So fithly, and back to both fourthly and thirdly…

I have always loved grocery shopping.

Call me crazy but I really do enjoy it.
I think it’s because I was hard-wired with that whole hunting and gathering notion
pretty strongly.

I love to cook, as it has always been a way for me to be creative
(imagine an art teacher finding her creativity in the kitchen vs an art medium..who knew?!)
plus I love finding new and different things to add to my cooking repertoire.

So the last three times I’ve had to go to the store, it is all I can do not to simply lose
it in the store.
Meaning that this whole madness is about to bring me to my knees in my own local Publix.

I can see the headlines now—“Local woman falls to the floor in a fetal position in Publix”

I so much as told this to the checkout gal who, by the way I know by name.
I told her this today as I was checking out–that I sadly now hate coming to the store.

There is such an eeriness now at the store, not to mention a bareness.

People glance at one another hesitantly, if they actually see anyone else at all…

As in there is very little eye contact and when there is, it is with caution.
Oh, and it is always over a blue mask.

Gloved hands are the new tres chic…that is, except for my bare face and hands.
I feel so last year.

People now make wide swings away from one another or avoid aisles with more than one cart.

Shelves remain bare.

And I wonder why I even bother.

Oh, to eat, that’s right.

So yeah, these are my first and hopefully not last thoughts for the day…

Behold, I am coming soon, and My reward is with Me,
to give to each one according to what he has done.
I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last,
the Beginning and the End.”

Revelation 22:13

do you remember…

Memories
Pressed between the pages of my mind
Memories
Sweetened through the ages just like wine
Quiet thoughts come floating down and settle softly to the ground
Like golden autumn leaves around my feet
I touch them and they burst apart with sweet memories

Lyrics by the Lettermen


(the sun cutting through the clouds / Julie Cook / 2020)

Do you remember when we use to worry about things like tornados, hurricanes, blizzards,
droughts…what about things like The Wall, illegal aliens, the fab four, Madame Speaker,
‘pencilneck’, impeachments, our President, the left, the right, the wrong…

What about the pollen?
The highest ever, in all of recorded history took place this week—

Or what about climate change…oh wait, didn’t it cause the pandemic or was that Trump??

But who has time to worry about sneezing and itchy eyes, the climate, global warming,
ad infinitum, when we can’t even find toilet paper?

Ahhh, those were the good old days…

So isn’t it simply amazing how a pandemic just seems to glibly push all that
other stuff aside?

There was a doctor from Emory University, who was interviewed by the news this morning,
who quipped that we might as well just wipe the month of April off the books cause we
ain’t budging from this life on lockdown for at least 4 to 6 more weeks.

And then to put the icing on the cake, I actually read that Easter was being canceled.

Yep, canceling Easter.

Hummmm…

You mean canceling local egg hunts, Sunday services with fancy new dresses and frilly
Spring hats, the wee hour sunrise services…canceling luncheons and afternoon gatherings…
canceling that Easter right?!

Because we know that nothing…not politicians, principalities, dominions, rulers, kings,
pandemics—-not even death can ever stop Easter…

But of course, we already knew that, didn’t we…??

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life.
Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live,

John 11:25