The Weedpatch Gazette - samheath's Blog - Bakotopia

The Weedpatch Gazette

Fortunately those of us who talk to our furry companions are not threatened with being hauled off to the Loony Bin for doing so. And while some of us are convinced Fluffy and Fido understand what we are saying few of us expect them to communicate in turn with articulate speech, though “feed me” and “pet me” come through very clearly, especially in the case of cats. Yet, when I stroll about outside the cat seems to actually enjoy my company and strolling with me just like the old dog I had on the mining claim here in the Kern River Valley when I was a boy. Why? I don’t know.

In a crazy world it continues to make some kind of sense to us and makes us feel warm all over when we see a TV segment of baby ducks being rescued and returned to their anxiously waiting momma duck. Part of that warm feeling is being aware the momma duck seems to be aware that the humans involved are trying to help her and her babies, that there is no intent to harm her babies. When kittens and puppies, any baby animals are rescued by humans we get that warm feeling that there is goodness to be found among us; and few things so stir our anger as to discover someone has been cruel to baby ducks, somehow we know those that would do such a thing must be some kind of monster, something distinct and apart from a human being. Jesus leveled the direst of warnings against those that would harm a child, and we seem to know intuitively that those that would be cruel to harmless little creatures like baby ducks will have the same satanic trait toward people, a diabolically inhuman trait that is not subject to any kind of “rehabilitation.”

It may be fortunate for us that the resident cat or dog cannot speak our language; we have the advantage of being able to talk to them without fear of a negative response. It doesn’t work that way talking to people where we often have to be very guarded and circumspect in our speech. Over the many years I have often found myself talking to some critter, much as I imagine my Cherokee ancestors did, giving vent to my innermost thoughts knowing the animal though being attentive would not betray my confidences. Very seldom do you find a person you can trust in like manner. This is one of the reasons animals figure prominently in many religions, why so many try to endow animals with human, even supernatural characteristics.

But I have never tried to communicate my thoughts about the hereafter with the resident cat or any other such creature. While I believe all life returns to the Creator of life, I just don’t expect animals to understand my thoughts on the subject. Perhaps because my many years of dealing with forest and farm animals never resulted in the kind of communications I would have with people it hasn’t crossed my mind that I should be looking to animals for answers to the many questions I have concerning the supernatural. In this I find myself departing from those like the ancient Egyptians for example; but I won’t attempt to disabuse those whose beliefs include things like cats being “familiars.” In some cases, people are having fun with such a thing and I wouldn’t think of intruding myself on the fun.

My son Michael and my friends like Mike and Byron know what I mean about living with “ghosts” and they are as likely to talk to the resident cat as I am when they visit. But I would understand their concern for me and couldn’t fault them if they called for the boys with butterfly nets if I ever told them that my ghosts or the resident cat were having real conversations with me; much as I have always avoided people who declare “God told me” and expect people to believe them. Whether it is God, ghosts, or the cat those of a rational mind are going to demand such claims be supported by incontestable evidence and rightly so.

But God does speak to me through the Bible and his Creation, and while I find these to be a far better resource even if Nancy Reagan did engage in séances I wouldn’t be finding fault with her, and if some believe in astrology that is their affair. Believers in such things are often among the best and brightest, the most well educated and are often trying to make sense of the lunatic world they find themselves in. It is only natural for people to reach out to the supernatural in an attempt to make sense of the craziness surrounding us, and I find comfort in lighting a candle and communing with my loved ones gone on before me. That I haven’t resorted to a Ouija Board or crystal ball doesn’t mean I have no sympathy with those who do credit such things, and we would be all the poorer without Abbott and Costello’s “The Time of Their Lives.”

Many of us reach out to the supernatural in an attempt to find comfort in our grief, to find a source of guidance, of understanding and hope in an evil world that makes little sense. What might be considered a milder form of lunacy among those who credit charms and amulets, séances, astrology or crystal balls can be entertaining, even bringing comfort to some. It is when such things become extreme and impinge on the lives of others adversely there is cause for real concern. Few would want to return to the Dark Ages of burning witches and heretics, though the Biblical warnings against things like witchcraft remain.

I really enjoy the old black and white movies of Dracula, Frankenstein, The Wolf Man; I even enjoy the Mummy films of Brendan Fraser, but I do not like the blood and gore in full color of the senselessly violent films. I like things that stir the imagination without the computer generated splatter of blood everywhere, and one of the more obvious signs of the end of this age to me is the growing violence against women and children, both in film and in reality.

If people are having fun with their beliefs or finding comfort in them without harm to anyone more power to them. If those of us who talk to our furry companions are not causing any harm by doing so, why would any complain? But since I believe we are now facing a new Dark Age one of the things I am growing increasingly sensitive to is the way people abuse animals as well as the way women and children are being abused.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Satan has his hot button issues some of which are homosexuality, pedophilia, child molestation, marriage and family, the Bible, moral standards, civilized manners and speech and the servants of the Evil One will quickly organize to attack all those expressing views about these things contrary to the Devil’s. “Hath God said…?” And this is how the cunning serpent in the Garden approached Eve, to call into question the word of God. Eve’s mistake seems to have been in not only paying attention to the serpent but allowing it to go even further and actually contradict God, telling Eve she would not die as God had warned, but would become like a god herself.

As a daughter of Eve, Governor Sarah Palin should have taken heed and not listened to the serpent. While I applauded Governor Palin and voiced my support of her as a glimmer of hope on the political scene, knowing she was the only bright spot in McCain’s campaign and the wisest choice he could make under the circumstances this did not detract from the Biblical injunction due to Eve’s part in The Fall that women are not to have power and authority over men.

Jesus warned the true prophets of God do not wear soft clothing and live in kings’ palaces. Paul warned women about adorning themselves with jewelry rather than a quiet and humble spirit. The proper roles of men and women are carefully delineated both in Scripture and nature, and whenever either departs from their proper roles there is a price to be paid. When it comes to politics or any position where either men or women seek power and authority over others invariably there is a hearkening to the serpent rather than to God. Whenever anyone attempts to pass themselves as a child of God while patently ignoring those things that should be the distinguishing characteristics of their purported divine parentage we are warned to be wary of such people.

From the very beginning when Caesar Bush pronounced he needed no other advisor than God I knew he was certainly not divinely anointed to the White House, but rather a false prophet. No real prophet of God seeks power and authority over others, but is commanded to live in a way as to be an example to others of God’s way of working in the lives of his children; and seeking power and wealth is a characteristic of the children of the Devil, not the children of God.

The Devil moves in the very best circles of the world. While the works of the Devil are evident in the most heinous of crimes against women and children especially, he seems most comfortable among his own of the most elite establishments of this world system, among the inner circles of power and wealth, and though his servants often flaunt such things as riches and fame the most powerful remain in the shadows lest their evil deeds as Jesus pointed out be exposed.

Emerson was quite correct in pointing out individuals like Socrates, Jesus, and Washington leave no class. While they may leave disciples, such individuals are unique not only to themselves but to history. Many may take of their example and teachings, but invariably when the schools are founded and followers begin to multiply the unique genius of the originals becomes lost and those that presume to speak in their names too often become only caricatures of those whose philosophies they espouse. However, with the loss of the originals we are left with their recorded words, but apart from the Bible there is just no way of making sense of a crazy world, one in which the historical record is that of continuing violence.

We are told in the Bible that a meek and humble spirit is the most prized of God, and are warned that “Pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall.” If Satan’s fall was occasioned by his pride it is not to be wondered at that his servants, the children of the Devil, would be heir to this same weakness. It’s a hard thing at times to live honestly before both God and men in a world under Satan’s dominion, to live in such a manner as not to give offense through the hypocrisy of unbelievers that would try to have it both ways having one foot in heaven and the other in hell; but such is the requirement for the children of God.

I do believe the struggle on the part of the children of God to be against the world, the flesh, and the Devil, that the warfare is a spiritual one waged in the spirit rather than the material weapons of this world system, but rather the sword of the spirit which is the word of God. The children of God are warned not to give place to the Devil, to resist the Evil One and not to be ignorant of his many devices by which he attempts to ensnare the unwary, but there is a place of safety in keeping our hearts with all diligence, knowing in the words of Jesus that where our hearts are, there will our treasure be also.

But having been designated by many a member in good standing of the aluminum foil hat crowd through my writings expressing my belief there is in fact a Devil and the Bible is factual in many instances and trustworthy in making known the thoughts and the will of God toward humankind, that God has in fact spoken to us through his prophets in the Biblical accounts I have nothing to lose by further pointing out there are many claiming to be God’s children just as willing to call me mad.

As the world churns in unrest on many fronts it is good to have a place to draw apart, a quiet place in which to commune with your own heart and find peace of mind. As with me, it is good if you have departed loved ones and friends with whom you can have sweet communion, knowing we are only separated briefly from these loved ones by the thin and fleeting veil of our mortality. Such is the hope the world cannot offer us, but only God.

The Weedpatch Gazette

What normal person does not enjoy ghost stories? Whether a singularity is expected due to the Large Hadron Collider, UFOs, Artificial Intelligence, the Apocalypse, or the Rapture there is enough in science, SciFi, and the metaphysical to entertain most people’s fancy and imagination. As a child I was given to writing stories, but it wasn’t until I was in high school that I actually took this seriously. One of the occasions for doing so was my writing the following ghost story for our English class, and each year to celebrate Halloween I continue to share it with others.

When I was a boy living on the mining claim here in the Sequoia National Forest long before there was a “Lake Isabella” and the town of Isabella for which the lake, a manmade reservoir, would be named had a total of 36 souls in residence, once the warm weather arrived I would move my bed out of the cabin and sleep all summer long under the branches of a marvelously scented old pine. It was sheer magic to be lulled to sleep by a balmy summer breeze soughing through the needles of the old, stately tree, making the kind of music only angels or a pine tree can make. We had no neighbors within a mile and virtually no one locked doors or windows in that time long ago, and reflecting on that simple life of simple pleasures long gone I recall a story about a husband and wife living in a remote area of Walker Basin not far from Isabella and near the historic town of Havilah.

There were some proud moments for me while attending the high school in the old town of Kernville before the lake went in, like my beating Bakersfield running the 880, when our school band would perform for local audiences and the principal’s son Billy and I would play for dances at the South Fork Community Center, the times when my music teacher Mr. Swadburg on piano and I with clarinet would play classical music for audiences around Kern County.

But the story I wrote for our English class about the couple living in Walker Basin was a proud moment that stands out vividly because the teacher thought it so good she chose to read it for the entire class. Some of the old timers who attended school with me may very well recall the story. I especially glowed when Myrtez, one of the loveliest girls in school, exclaimed after the teacher finished reading it, “That was really good!” When a boy has done something that impresses a beautiful girl he isn’t very likely to forget such a thing notwithstanding the praise of a teacher; so, here is the story:

The incident occurred during the summer of 1951 when the woman’s husband had to make an extended trip away from their home in the wilderness. This necessitated leaving his wife alone; but the circumstances were such that she could not accompany him.

In those days seldom was any thought given to securing doors or windows, and those wise to country living knew how to prevent unwanted visits from local bears, lions, and raccoons disturbing people and their dwellings; common sense matters of prevention like never leaving food scraps about that would bait visits by wild animals.

Nevertheless, with her husband gone and admitting some uneasiness about being alone, the woman did take the precaution before going to bed of tightly locking the doors and windows of their cabin that first night of his absence. Then, confident all was secure she blew out the kerosene lamp on the nightstand, slipped into bed, and despite being all alone in the total darkness of the wilderness in no time was fast asleep.

At first, she did not know what it was that had aroused her from her slumber. It had been a noise of some kind, but she didn’t know what kind of noise? Even in the darkness of the forest night there were natural sounds to which you become accustomed; like the squeak of a mouse caught by an owl, the bark of a fox, natural forest and country sounds like those of a wilderness stream that somehow you become so accustomed they do not disturb your rest at night.

But this was no naturally occurring nocturnal night sound that had awakened her; of this she seemed certain in some unknown somnolent fashion of the mind. She lay there in the dark; beginning to wonder if it had been only a dream after all that had disturbed her rest, when all of a sudden she heard the sound! This time she was not asleep; she was wide-awake and immediately knew what the sound was! It was the sound of a guitar string being struck of the instrument her husband kept in the other room of the cabin next to the fireplace!

Nearly petrified knowing she was completely alone, the doors and windows of the cabin locked tightly, she lay there transfixed with fright not knowing what to do! A few extremely tense moments passed; then the unmistakable sound of a guitar string being struck once more rang out in the blackness of the small cabin!

A loaded shotgun was kept handy leaning against the wall next to the bed, and the woman despite her abject fear accepting that she must do something reached with trembling hand for the gun. She no sooner had hold of it than out of the darkness a string of the guitar was struck again! Loudly!

Easing her now shivering, quaking legs from under the covers of the bed as quietly as possible, she very slowly and deliberately sat upright; and placing the shotgun between her trembling knees she reached over to the nightstand in the darkness, then with shaking fingers managed to lift the chimney from the lamp, and though fearful of doing anything, fearful of making any sound struck a match, lighted the wick and replaced the chimney. No sooner had she done so than the guitar in the other room twanged loudly once more!

Summoning up more courage than she ever thought she possessed the woman arose from the bed, and pointing the shotgun toward the darkness where the guitar was located overcoming with great effort her fear-dried and constricted throat and mouth managed to articulate a shouted, more nearly screamed “Who’s there! I have a gun and I’ll shoot!”

The sudden sound of her own voice ringing out in the small cabin, her shouted warning nearly unhinged her! But there was no response to her shouted threat from out of the now dread blackness of the other room of the cabin. Then, as she stood there pointing the shotgun toward that fearful dark of the other room, a plucked string on the guitar rang out again!

Trembling all the while, fearing her legs would buckle and collapse under her the woman held the shotgun in her right hand finger on the trigger, and with her left she lifted the lamp from the nightstand; then with halting step though nearly frozen with fear advanced toward that dread dark room and guitar.

Suddenly, there in the reflected light from the lamp she could see it! There was the guitar, now seeming to her more an evil haunting specter than a musical instrument, leaning against the wall next to the fireplace. But there was no one, no “thing” to be seen in the room! As she stood there nearly paralyzed by fear looking directly at the instrument a string of the guitar was struck forcefully as though by an invisible hand!

Nearly dropping both shotgun and lamp, the woman jerked hard against the jamb of the bedroom door and looked at the spectral instrument in horror! Finally, once more drawing from some hitherto unknown depth of courage she managed to take a faltering step forward. With lamp held high in one hand and ready with the other to fire the shotgun pointed toward the guitar, her frantic mind was racing with what action she might be called upon to take, from what invisible force or creature she might have to defend herself?

When only about five feet away from the guitar she watched transfixed in fascinated horror as right in front of her a grotesque yellow-winged “something!” some “creature!” with hideous face, multiple clawed limbs and menacing, gnashing mandibles suddenly leaped at her with lightning speed from the dark bowels of the instrument and violently struck one of the strings! It was a large grasshopper.

True story.

Sam

The Weedpatch Gazette

It’s a sign of the times when prospecting and mining equipment is enjoying resurgence as it is here in the Kern River Valley. I’m very familiar with prospecting and mining, and over the years have known many involved with this. Some are into it for recreation, the weekend panners and small time dredgers with small riffle boxes for example enjoying the great outdoors as much as the hunt for gold. But there are signs that the new interest in this is being born of fear and desperation because of a sinking economy, and I may yet have someone coming to my place seeking my expertise in prospecting. For example, I know where someone could begin looking for a very promising tungsten load were they of a mind to but for my own reasons I’m not all that anxious to give away such a source, perhaps because of my Choctaw Cherokee ancestry that often suggests it is better to keep some things a secret from the “white eyes.”

The silver mine I filed on in 1969 up on Bull Run Creek was never done with the intention of working it, but rather to keep that area the pristine wilderness I came to know as a boy. But imagine my consternation when I filed the claim and discovered the old boys that first discovered the silver load and worked it back in the 20s had never bothered to file on the claim and tell Uncle Sam about their discovery. However, the evidence was there including mule trail, old engines used to pump water out of the stope, the tin shack with cook stove and several old bedsprings, rock crusher and smelter, stone fortress with gun loops and stone holding ponds that a whole lot of silver had been taken out of that mine.

To this very day, that old mining operation is a mystery and no one seems to know anything about it. A further mystery is whether those old fellows stopped working the mine because the seam ran out or because they could no longer keep the water pumped out of that stope? A tantalizing thought, that, there may still remain a fortune in silver left untouched. However, what with the restrictions today, the enormous cost of slant-drilling to try and pick up the silver seam, pumping and drying of the shaft no one would likely make the investment without it being a sure thing. So, the mystery may remain a mystery, one like so many others associated with prospecting and mining.

But I love a mystery, and those of us who believe in the supernatural, who believe in God, in ghosts and spirits, angels and demons, have a considerable advantage over those that do not believe, one very real advantage is being able to make sense out of the crazy world we live in, a world that makes little sense by strictly empirical proofs of science. As a very well educated man I look at what science has to offer and in many cases this has never been enough for me; there are just too many things utterly inexplicable without their having a supernatural, metaphysical if you will, explanation.

What is happening right now with politics in America makes no sense to me apart from a manifestation of God vs. Satan. To ascribe this to the failings of human nature alone makes no sense, especially when the battle is still being fought over who really killed JFK, who was really behind the 9/11 attack on America and so many other things of great magnitude you have to wonder who would have the power to pull some of these things off without definite, undeniable proof positive concerning the perpetrators being readily available.

Right now it is so patently obvious the Devil’s candidate for the presidency is Hussein that only crediting the Evil One can possibly account for the enormous amount of MSM propagandizing hatred generated against Governor Palin. How can her wardrobe really be of more concern than Hussein’s ties to Ayers, Wright, ACORN and refusal to allow the kind of microscope turned on him and his background, family and allies than either McCain or Palin? This should speak volumes of Satan being busy covering and running interference for his chosen candidate. More to the point in my opinion, I long ago concluded Caesar Bush has not been assassinated because the Devil takes care of his own, and I assume the same thing to be true for Hussein. Simply considering how many would like to pull the trigger on both men, who but the Devil could keep either of them alive? I admit to discounting any good guardian angels.

But speaking of Ayers, he is a perfect example of why I say the universities of America are Public Enemy Number One! The universities of America are where Satan really holds power over America, not in our government which is only a product of the universities. If you want to know how powerless We the People really are you only have to consider how virtually impossible it is to hold the universities accountable and why those like Ayers are so representative of the universities as a whole. That folks has to be the Devil’s work, taking care of and rewarding his own.

Well, I continue to love a mystery. I’ll take the supernatural being involved with the affairs not only of world conditions, of conditions threatening America, but in my own personal life. For example, I have a “shrine” here where I write with the pictures and mementos of loved ones gone on before me to be with the Lord. At sundown, I have here of late been given to lighting a candle at this place of remembrance and communion with these loved ones and hold a holy vigil with them, the soft light of the candle lending soft comfort to my soul at the end of each day. As I do battle with the Evil One and his servants, this interlude at the end of the day is where I find comfort and solace for my soul. If you do not have such a place of comfort and solace you might consider it, especially in these uncertain times.

The Weedpatch Gazette

There was a moment of intuitive regret I vividly recall when I was about eight years old and it came to my mind I did not want to give up the childhood things like my cap guns and playing marbles, but I somehow knew these things were soon to pass away. This was a moment of premature melancholy sadness, and one that in later years I came to wonder about; why at such a young age would I even have had such a thought? A good part of this must have had to do with the amount of violence I had already experienced as a child together with living in a world at war, and like the original innocence of Adam and Eve this was giving way to the harsh reality of a world cursed by sin in which the innocence of childhood was to be of short duration.

Jesus admonished those trying to prevent little children coming to him with the words “Forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God.” His harshest condemnation was of those that would harm a child, and some of his other statements concerning children would seem to confirm my own thoughts that only children have the kind of wisdom that could save the world much in the way little Scout dispersed that lynch mob in To Kill A Mockingbird if only adults did not forsake the wisdom of childhood.

Charles Lamb supposed even lawyers were once children and Henry Thoreau could wish he were as wise as the day he was born, observing children play at life with more wisdom than adults live it, giving credit to the things of greatest value that are the particular domain of childhood. Take away the curse of sex that falls predominantly on women and you have that wiser world the distinctive domain of childhood, one perhaps referred to by Jesus with his emphasis on the importance of childhood and saying that in heaven people do not marry or are given in marriage, but are as the angels of God. And who has not wondered at his telling Nicodemus he must be born again and become as a little child before he could have any hope of entering heaven. But good man that he was I suppose Nicodemus came to understand the words of Jesus that the kingdom of God is within us, that the Spirit of God that with the faith of a child motivates to do good and live honestly before both God and men is distinctive of a child of God.

Among small children there is no discrimination relating to sex, power and wealth. But small children intuitively sense bad seed such as the bullies for example and try to avoid them. At a very early age children are able to distinguish with an intuitive knowledge of right and wrong, fairness and justice and between the children of God and the children of the Devil even though they cannot articulate such, but a child of God would know intuitively there is no such thing as rehabilitation for bullies like satanic child molesters. Only some adults that have either forsaken or never known the wisdom of childhood would entertain such an evil and wicked notion.

That magical time of childhood has room for things of the most surreal, but the transition to adulthood is too often so harsh as to leave the better angels of childhood behind and eventually forgotten. But as things become increasingly surreal for adults on the political and world scene it is absolutely fascinating the burgeoning numbers of people resorting to astrology, crystal balls, and the occult as the times become ever more dangerous and uncertain for America and the world.

No truly qualified biblical scholar is without thorough knowledge of the wide-ranging literature and practices having to do with witchcraft and the occult. To understand many of the accounts in the Bible having to do with supernatural events demands a person have a solid background in the beliefs of the times including witchcraft and sorcery in which the events described took place, and hopefully learn to distinguish between the works of God and the works of Satan, something important to the teaching found about these in both Old and New Testaments.

While the advantages of a good education are many, throughout my own academic studies what I learned among many things is a university education often produces only a more knowledgeable savage rather than a truly civilized person, “educated fools” as my grandad called them. A good education does not preclude beliefs concerning God and Intelligent Design, Satan, angels and demons, but a good education might enable a person to become more discriminating about their beliefs and not confuse these with facts. However, the facts concerning the supernatural are sometimes hard to come by; nevertheless the facts are there if only on an individual basis sometimes seeming to favor only a chosen few.

In these uncertain and even fearful times not a few of us would like to return to the magical world of childhood, providing it was not a time of horror as it turns out for so many, and recapture the joy and security we may have known as children. But the real comfort for adults is to find that place with God where we can tell him of our concerns and find the kind of peace only God can give us.

I often tell folks I have my ghosts and the resident cat to talk to, believing the spirits of loved ones and friends now gone on before me are still with me, that they hear and watch over me. Neither they nor the cat have replied to my conversations, but this makes my belief concerning these loved ones and friends no less real than the cat. If people are looking for comfort such as they may have known as children there is no other place I know so comforting as to have such a belief. And perhaps as the world becomes increasingly dangerous and uncertain more people will turn to God and share my belief. A hymn by J. B. Coates I recall from childhood has it “Where Could I go but to the Lord.” And you know folks this expresses my own thoughts in these dangerous and uncertain times, and I find a lot of comfort in this and hope you do also.

The Weedpatch Gazette

Among the many reasons people envy those of us able to live here in the Kern River Valley is not only the clean air and water we enjoy in this part of the Sequoia National Forest, the marvelous fishing and lack of traffic, the lack of crowds when shopping or attending to other business but also the abundance of birds and butterflies, so much so that people from around the world come here just to be able to see such a marvelous diversity of these beautiful creatures. And while pollution elsewhere in so many parts of America threaten both people and wildlife the very abundance of birds and butterflies testify to the quality of our environment here in this very special place.

However, while not considered beautiful we have an abundance of turkey vultures and the 14th Annual Kern Valley Autumn Nature & Vulture Festival here in the Kern River Valley was held on September 27-28. When speaking of vultures most can be excused for immediately thinking of politicians, however that is ameliorated somewhat here in the valley because of the great number of actual turkey vultures in the wild, sometimes in such large flocks overhead right here in Bodfish Canyon as to make one think the sky had suddenly turned cloudy.

The Kern Valley Sun: The Turkey Vulture Festival had its beginnings when locals Terri Gallion and Sean Rowe, under the auspices of the Kern River Research center, began formally documenting what is considered the largest turkey vulture migration over a single location north of Mexico in 1994. The event is now the focus of the annual two-day event that monitors a consistently healthy bird population. “We’ll see an average of about 30,000 vultures annually along the migration route in the South Fork Valley,” says Alison Sheehey, Outreach Program Coordinator for the Kern River Preserve, “with a good day count being about 4,000 birds. Our counts are also critical to the ongoing military activities in the area. A group of 4,000 vultures can pose a serious problem to aircraft, and we furnish information to the military to help prevent any potentially catastrophic contact with the birds.” The Kern Valley Turkey Vulture Festival is sponsored by Audubon–California, Kern River Valley Revitalization Committee, and Friends of the Kern River Preserve. The Audubon organization is dedicated to protecting birds and wildlife and the habitat that supports them. “A lot of people come out for the vulture festival,” says Sheehey, “but we have many activities going on at the Preserve year round, including our work with hummingbirds and migratory butterflies, like the Painted Ladies we see coming through the area. Come out and pay us a visit. We have a new visitor center now being built, which should make things even nicer in the future.”

In these most uncertain of times I am grateful to God for things like the Annual Turkey Vulture Count, a kind of sanity in the midst of so much seeming insanity. And while they are equated with death vultures play a vital role in cleansing the earth of carrion, but someday there will be new heavens and a new earth and there will be no need of vultures since death will be swallowed up by God’s plan for our future, a future where neither death nor anything unclean will any longer have a place in the scheme of things.

It is understandable there are people that envy those of us able to live here in the Kern River Valley, but I pity those that have no faith in God wherever they live. How very bleak their lives must be to have no hope beyond what this world has to offer, to have no hope beyond the grave, and because of this lack of faith and hope in God and a hereafter spend their lives much like politicians and other of the Devil’s servants attacking those with such faith and hope.

The Weedpatch Gazette

As an avid fisherman and one that for years enjoyed the incomparable delights of pristine wilderness trout streams, it was more than whimsy on my part when I once wrote that while camping beside such a stream and looking at a canopy of the myriad stars overhead, those magnificent brilliant points of light shining like diamonds against soft black velvet and thinking perhaps I could cast a line from my soul upward into the heavens above and catch some celestial thought from the gods. My, what fine sport that would be to go a-fishing among the stars, the dwelling place of the gods and angels! And just perhaps, those stars might not be so far away as we have been told.

Just how old is the universe? Astronomers don’t really know because the calculations they use may need considerable revision if some of their basic assumptions prove to be wrong. For example, just how far away that star you are looking at if the light from it is is contained within a bubble that throws off your calculation? The best of SciFi is often ahead of the curve when it comes to what is actually taking place in science. In Men In Black a galaxy is contained in a small sphere like a marble, and in the last scenes it is shown as only one of many such marbles; but perhaps the more probable might be bubble spheres and here is something that brings crystal balls to mind:

Earth May Exist in Giant Cosmic Bubble. Wednesday, October 01, 2008. By Clara Moskowitz: If the notion of dark energy sounds improbable, get ready for an even more outlandish suggestion. Earth may be trapped in an abnormal bubble of space-time that is particularly devoid of matter… If we were in an unusually sparse area of the universe, then things could look farther away than they really are and there would be no need to rely on dark energy as an explanation for certain astronomical observations. "If we lived in a very large under-density, then the space-time itself wouldn't be accelerating," said researcher Timothy Clifton of Oxford University in England. "It would just be that the observations, if interpreted in the usual way, would look like they were…"

Whether the medium is a crystal ball or a bowl of water, scrying is dependent on being able to “see” things otherwise not open to view. But while smoke and mirrors are the stuff of charlatans, who can say we do not suffer from our inability to see things beyond our physical field of vision; we do know it is extremely limited compared to what might be seen if we had vision that could distinguish the entire spectrum of light.

As though there were not problems enough with Einstein’s famous equation being incomplete because it does not account for life now we must consider, as I have long believed, whether ours is indeed a unique planet in a unique solar system in a unique bubble that may mean the stars are not nearly as far away as scientists have thought. From our place in the cosmic bubble we may not be seeing things as they actually are, but like dolphins see only the ocean in which they swim while perhaps only having the dimmest perception of a world beyond the one in which they swim and live.

There is speculation about ours being a bubble universe, and perhaps only one of many such bubbles. And if it should prove our own solar system is in a very large under-density it could be quite stable and readily brings to mind the beginning chapters of Genesis together with how God intends to deal with new heavens and a new earth when the old has passed away.

America may be in the hands of Satan and his servants whose only purpose is to reward the wealthy while intent on our destruction as a nation, but there is nothing I can do about that. Maybe Steve Fossett disabled that location transmitter and bailed out so he could disappear. It will be interesting to hear what the NTSB says about the crash, especially if his body isn’t found. There is nothing I can do about that either.

But I can do something about that personal world in which I live, the world of my mind, a world you possess as well that Emerson, Thoreau, and others have correctly pointed out is greater than any earthly domain, the kingdom of God within us as Jesus pointed out. It is here in this kingdom, this world of my mind I can cast my line upward and do some celestial fishing. Who knows; the stars as well as God and the angels, departed loved ones and friends may really be much closer than some think and it is worth my while to keep casting my line upward in hope of catching thoughts worth keeping remembering all the while that neither this body nor this world is my home, I’m only passing through.

The Weedpatch Gazette

One of many advantages I enjoyed as a child living in that part of Southeast Bakersfield called Little Oklahoma during the 30s and 40s was some of the superstitions and beliefs of the adults most of them being Okies and Arkies from the Dust Bowl migration. I call this an advantage because such superstitions and beliefs are part of a culture, and lend the spice to otherwise cruel hardships of ignorance and poverty and often help people deal with these.

One old fellow I remember would never eat anything from a can that had been opened from the bottom because he believed this pizened the contents. I never learned where he had gotten such a preposterous notion because as a child being raised to never show disrespect for my elders it didn’t cross my mind to ask this old fellow about it. Besides, his belief about such a thing didn’t really bother anyone; it wasn’t something that he used to take advantage of anyone so what was the harm, and looking back I realize no amount of arguing with him about it would have changed his mind. Over the years I have known quite a few folks just like this old fellow, and most of the time I don’t waste my own time arguing with them. Their beliefs and superstitions may be just as preposterous, but so long as they do no harm why not just leave them be.

But education is very important because we realize a society cannot function and prosper in a civilized manner unless it is made up of educated individuals. I had an aunt that could not read or write. On one occasion she made a cake and mistook a bottle of cough syrup for vanilla extract. The bottles looked the same so the error was understandable, though it did lend an odd flavor to the cake; but had she mistaken a bottle of poison and used that this could have resulted in a real tragedy.

My grandparents used to tell the story about an elderly woman they knew given to burying socks full of dirt in the backyard. When asked about this bizarre behavior she would reply she was burying Beelzebub’s guts. Apart from this mild aberration she behaved quite normally and was a delightful person to be around.

Then there was the old fellow grandad used as an example of how people can carry their religious beliefs to extremes. The man had a deep conviction about keeping the Sabbath and would not do any work on a Sunday, but he had chickens that needed feeding each day. To get around doing this on Sunday, on Saturday evenings he would place a pan of feed on the gatepost to the chicken yard and accidentally hit it with his shoulder on Sunday so it would spill over to feed the chickens.

Every one of these people I have described intended no harm to anyone, they each had peculiar deficiencies but in a way as to add spice to the lives of others. If nothing else, they gave other folks something to think and talk about. When I was a boy living on the mining claim here in the Kern River Valley back before the lake went in we had our own mad scientist, Harold Adams, who was a real genius and a fascinating character. He took a real liking to me and would sometimes share some of his ideas and inventions. However, the grownups would laugh and talk about things like his housekeeper, a younger woman, but there was never anything mean or malicious about such talk; it was simply gossip that added spice to our small society at the time.

One of the things I miss most about my childhood is the sense of community we used to know where neighbors could share stories, visiting with one another, each person having something or someone in their families that were a source of embarrassment but simply accepted as a part of the community while often proving to be entertaining to us children though the grownups were careful to caution us about anything or anyone to be wary of. However, in small communities the grownups could usually count on each other to watch out for children, but the tragedies involving children back then as today were always the result of the lack of proper adult supervision.

WWII was an ongoing time of interest to me as a boy, there was so much excitement all about and even children were involved in the war effort. But I don’t remember it as a climate of fear for me, rather one of excitement and interest, which is as it should have been for children. Perhaps what people are expressing to me now largely because of TV there is a growing climate of fear Americans are in no way prepared to deal with, one of the reasons for this being the lack of family and community for many Americans, families and communities such as I knew as a child where there was allowance for the idiosyncrasies of adults that added spice rather than fear to such communities.

Several times I have shared my thought that the real virtue and character of America is to be found in rural churches and communities, places where the emphasis is on those things of real and lasting value, the things that emphasize the importance of children and families rather than wealth and power. In my opinion Norman Rockwell got it right concerning the real virtue and character of America; but now it seems America has gotten too big for its britches and has forsaken the things of real value that made us a great nation, those things that once made for strong families and communities.

There are those that have succeeded in dividing America into self-serving groups that would make America over into their own image; but such an America is not a nation of communities where there is allowance and understanding for those that add spice to living because of their harmless beliefs and superstitions. Too often now communities have become the victims of violence and crime where parents are afraid for their children both at home and at school, where people must live behind iron bars on windows and heavily reinforced doors.

I spend a good deal of time now in reverie and contemplation, refusing to watch much of the madness on TV that seems to have descended on America like some dark and malevolent cloud of foreboding creating a climate of fear. Through nothing particularly deserving on my part I have come to this last stage of life’s journey and looking back over the many changes I have witnessed in America, realizing it is no longer the United States but a nation divided and fragmented beyond my recognition and without any sense of community.

There was a time within my recall when music and films were fun, when there was humor without being vulgar, crude and profane, humor without a mean and malicious intent and content and parents did not have to fear their children were being brainwashed into accepting things like perversion as an alternative lifestyle. America once had communities where children were expected to learn good manners, correct speech and dress at home and these were supported and encouraged by the schools.

The loss of community with its concomitant failure in education has resulted in the loss of morality replaced by the pervading barbarism that is now the rule in America. Our own government is a continuing reminder of the degradation and corruption of an America without any sense of community and community values with an emphasis on families, which was once the very foundation of our nation and one that also accommodated the spice of beliefs and superstitions, aberrations such as I have mentioned together with a few cranks and crackpots that do no real harm and without which we would be the poorer.

Heritage, culture, a common language and secure borders that once defined America and made for strong communities with moral values and standards has been betrayed for wealth and power, but these will not save America. A sense of community, the very soul of a once strong foundation of American families with faith in God has been sacrificed to benefit the few, but these few will discover that without that sense of community and strong American family values that held America together and made us a great nation they will destroy both themselves and America.

The Weedpatch Gazette

This presidential campaign is focused on TV performance rather than anything of substance, but the first debate between McCain and Obama reminded me of Ed Wood’s Plan 9 From Outer Space. Some of you are aware this film holds the arguable distinction of worst movie ever made, and the so-called debate was such a bad performance I had to keep reminding myself it was supposed to be taken seriously.

But in addition to Wood’s film, there were several times when the scene from Mel Gibson’s film Signs came to mind where Mel and the children are just sitting there in the house staring while wearing their aluminum foil hats waiting for something to happen and I wondered if I should start shaping one for myself?

At the very least last night’s performance struck me as more than a little surreal. These two men are the best candidates either party could come up with, men whose performances bring to mind really bad acting in really bad movies or perhaps another kind of reality from some unknown dimension, or a political structure gone utterly insane! I have to be honest folks; the whole thing on the political, financial, and world front does make me wish Klaatu would suddenly appear to save us humans from ourselves because I just don’t see our species being up to the task.

There are people quick to fault and criticize those of us who believe in God and hold on to Biblical beliefs, but in all honesty does what is happening here in America because of a failed and betraying leadership seem any less farfetched? A far greater number of people have more confidence in the Bible than they do in Congress and in my opinion for very good reason.

The whole of government seems to appear a Rube Goldberg contraption of such mad complexity that threatens to come apart at any time. And rather than worrying about it, worrying about my inability to do anything to fix this machine that seems beyond any human effort to simplify because of its mad complexity never designed to solve simple tasks in the most efficient manner I’d much rather be a member in good standing of the aluminum foil hat society as some already construe me to be.

Watching what is happening right now with those in our government as the financial crisis threatening America gains world attention we are hearing some of these politicians admitting they don’t even understand just what it is they are trying to fix! I’m reminded of Robert Vaughn as the German officer about to be shot in the film The Bridge at Remagen wondering just who is the enemy?

Thoughts of tar and feathers and even worse are running through people’s minds as we are being told as though to encourage even more anger and frustration, thoughts of outright rebellion that the crooks and profiteers must be saved, the wealthy must remain wealthy and powerful in order to save America while ordinary American citizens must pay the price for a failed and betraying leadership! However, just what kind of America is being saved by rewarding the politicians and their companion crooks and profiteers? This we are not being told, but we not only have every right but also the duty as American citizens to demand an answer to that very question!

The Weedpatch Gazette

A large mobile home just up the road from me was destroyed by fire today; the people losing everything they had. There is nothing funny about such a thing. It is believed the fire was started by a child playing with a lighter; and there is nothing funny about that. So why are so many in the MSM laughing and joking about America’s house being on fire, threatening everything ordinary American citizens have? Is it because they think politicians are only children playing with lighters and those in the MSM think this is something to joke about?

Now I know it isn’t just me puzzled and wondering why so many of the talking heads and empty suits on TV news channels are smirking while talking about looming doomsday for America? Are they simply cookie cutter mannequins without a real brain? Or are they the result of some kind of witchcraft that has cast a spell upon them making them believe it is appropriate to smirk while talking doomsday scenarios as though that will assure viewers everything is just peachy while exuding an “Oh well, what the hell, everything will turn out swell” persona as some of these idiots in the MSM keep laughing and joking with one another. That alone should disqualify them from anyone taking these idiots seriously about anything they say.

We know America’s house is on fire; no one needs to tell me that. But when catastrophe is threatening I don’t want someone who casually mentions with a smirk, and by the way your house is on fire. I want someone that recognizes an impending disaster to not only shout out my house is on fire but is grabbing a hose to help me extinguish the blaze! I don’t think many of us get that sense of urgency about impending disaster from the smirking idiots and politicians. Even worse are those of sober brow making pronouncements of impending doom as though they knew all along the house was burning down but never offering any real help to put out the conflagration. But of course the prostituted (my apologies to honest working girls) politicians will line up and say with straight faces how they tried to help and are not really arsonists.

It isn’t likely in my opinion very many of us ordinary Americans are feeling comforted by what is happening in D.C. On the contrary the whole thing seems a charade to keep politicians in power and make the wealthy even wealthier, and it brings to my mind thoughts of that Great City Babylon of Revelation where its destruction causes the merchants of the world to cry out because of the monumental loss of a market for their merchandise “for in one hour is she made desolate” and who will now buy their goods, most of which consist of dainty things dedicated to a wealthy market to satisfy a materialistic and hedonistic society living as delicately as a fop rather than a nation only buying the essential things needed for living.

That short amount of time has always caught my attention. Apart from a huge rock from space hitting us how is America destroyed in such a brief period of time? Nuclear terrorism is a possibility, but from what we are witnessing at the seat of power it looks like neither a rock from space nor a nuclear bomb is required, but our leaders seem intent on destroying America themselves without any other assistance.

Well, I still have my rocking chair and Bible and even the resident cat for comfort. I’m free of debt, own my home and have a few really good friends so I can watch what is happening all about, the seeming lunacy of it all with a degree of detachment. After all, what can any of us actually do to influence either the lunatics or the crazy events now unfolding?

We would like to believe someone is minding the store, America, but I just don’t get any other sense of things than the foreboding of seeming madness all about, and what will either McCain or Obama have to say of any substance addressing absolute specifics to put out the fire and save America? Only adding to the sense of foreboding is the realistic fact neither candidate dares tell the truth about what is needed to save America even if either of them actually know.