Thursday, June 14, 2018

Strings Attached


Jaye B.

(editor's note:  It is with great reluctance that I am doing a redux and have resumed blogging my Road from Ruin story, but the following bit of craziness just had to be put in words. Each of my experiences with people I meet on the road gets more and more bizarre as you will see below.

Please donate to this blog to keep it going @
Road from Ruin .  I will be most grateful for your help. Thank you! )

Irving was waving for me to come over,  parked about fifty yards away.  I held up my hand, palm towards him in a 'stop' gesture.  But he kept on insisting. Reluctantly I turned away from the rig I was helping Greg McCroskey, a Vietnam vet, repair and walked over through the wind and dust.

When I got to his truck, he turned and pulled a guitar case out of the back. Crestfallen I was when he opened it.  Completely beat up. Useless.

"I'll get it repaired when I go to my luthier in Van Nuys." Irving said rather proudly.

Why I took it, I don't know.   A guitar with strings attached even though it didn't have any. Nor any tuning pegs.

Then, a few days later when he crashed my camp site out in the desert, he flipped.

"That guitar is out of my hands.  Get some rosewood sawdust and glue and fix it yourself."  He said, rolled up the window and then drove back to town.

Then on the day before I left Terra Cotta Springs, with the sole reason to get away from him, he saw me and pulled into the parking lot of the local hot springs resort.  Irving got out and approached me and then extended his arm when he was about twelve feet from me. I thought he was getting ready to shake my hand and extended mine. But when he got closer, I could see that there was something coiled up around his fist.

"Here."  He said and handed me what I could then see were a tangle of used guitar strings.  I went over to the my car and stuffed them into the case of my travel guitar.

A couple of weeks after I departed, an FB mssg from a woman that works at the communitycenter appeared on my page. It read: Irving is here at the community center now, so give us a call. He wants to talk to you.

Why I did, I'll never know, other that the mssg. triggered me into a dissociated state and rendered me unable to make a rationally defensive decision.

"Hey."  He said. " I couldn't get that guitar fixed, bad truss rod.  But I got you another one.  A classical.  It's got a laminated top but I'm sure it plays o.k.  I mean, that's what I got on the trade.  How can I get this guitar to you?"

"I guess mail it to general delivery in Mammoth."

"I can't do that.  $100.00 minimum."

"Well, I never mail stuff, so I wouldn't know. Give it to Sheila and when she comes up here she can drop it off at the community center in town."

"The community center." He repeated. Then silence.

"Where are you planning to go when it gets too hot there?"  I asked, gritting my teeth.

"Left, right.  I don't know."

Back out in the desert, I was able to process the exchange and knew what was at hand, having grown up in Scandinavian plagued Minnesota.  I should have told him I was going to spend my summer in Lake Isabella several months ago when he kept asking me, should have been on to the passive aggressive ploy at hand.  But I really have trouble with even white lying.

Last Saturday, I found myself taking a different street than usual when I headed back up into the mountains. Before one intersection, I slowed down for the stop sign and then saw it. The truck. I did a double take and refused to believe that it was a Minnesota license plate on the back.  Instant dissociation. Then I craned my neck and looked at the front of the vehicle as I passed by, hoping I saw otherwise. But no. Minnesota.

"Jaye!!!"  I heard booming through the windows and jolted.  Unable to hear what direction it was coming from, I panicked and looked around, only then to see him on the steps of the Mammoth Public Library with someone sitting next to him. He beamed a smile. "Pull over and come here!" and did the hand waving thing again.

"I need to get gas." I said.

"Well come back."

"I need to get out to the desert.  I'll call you."  I said, rolled up the window and drove away.

All, all, all I wanted to do down in Terra Cotta Springs was record my desert inspired music on his vintage instruments-the most beautiful sounding that I have ever heard in my 45 plus years of playing guitar. But the barbed wire maze he trapped himself in made it virtually impossible to do.

"The mother of my children knows how I refuse to get emotional about her cancer."  He said one day, looking westward, after he told me she was flying into LAX and I asked if he was going to go see her, hoping he would.

He then showed me photos of his beautiful daughters.  One had not spoken to him for years.  He wanted to bring them to Terra Cotta Springs and put them on some kind of payroll, get them out of L.A.

One day, I shared with him my theory that Scandinavians are so neurotic, insecure and dysfunctional because of the constant exposure to the Northern lights and how the radiation from said lights mutated our Finnish, Swedish and for him, Norwegian DNA. As much as I would like to believe this, it really isn't something so cosmically grandiose. Rather, it is the ice cold Scandinavian parenting that has inflicted the most damage.

About a week prior to Irving's undesired arrival, the high e-string on my travel guitar broke, one from a set he had sold me for $4.00 and which turned out to be tarnished after years of storage. I then pulled out the coil of strings he had forced upon me and after untangling them, took the replacement and put it on my guitar.  Then about an hour after I saw him in Mammoth, I took the guitar out and placed it on my car bed and sat in the driver's seat and recorded some music on my iPad. Growing frustrated, I took the ear phones off and tossed them aside. They landed right on the guitar, causing the replacement e string to snap.

Now, my guitar, at present time , is 5 stringed.

Road from Ruin readers: What is described above here and in many other of my blog entries is unconsciously programmed sabotage. I've come to believe that evil forces uses what I call 'weaponized humans" to bring me down. These humans are not weaponized with guns, knives and ammo, but rather unresolved complexes that are activated via occult technology causing said humans to act up on me and throw wrenches into my gears.  It is one of the main reasons I live alone, out of my car, in the desert, in the mountains, wherever I can keep away from them.

I recently came across a website run by some makeshift guru in India that claims that if we open our antakaranah channels and dump our negative relationship karma into the center of the earth where it will get incinerated-then 100% optimally functioning people, one after the other, will then come into our lives.

I'm working on the opening/dumping/incinerating right now in hopes that I can get my music recorded professionally for posterity.

Oh...p.s. last monday, I got another FB mssg. from Sheila down in Terra Cotta Springs:  We have a guitar here waiting for you.


(C)2018-Jaye B.

Jaye B. is a writer, musician and artist. His art criticism has appeared in Art Paper, New North Artscape, Art Muscle, Northfield Magazine and elsewhere. His articles have also appeared in City Pages, Twin Cities Reader, Mysteries Magazine, Fahrenheit San Diego, High Plains Reader, New Dawn, and Rain Taxi. He has appeared on BBC Radio, WGN Chicago, Red FM Ireland, WLW Cincinnati, The Howard Stern Show, The Daily Show and other places in the mediasphere to discuss his work.

Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Book Dedication


Jaye B.

Beth Sweere. D. January 8th, 2014

I am dedicating my upcoming Road from Ruin book to  Beth Sweere. My destitute, spiritually broken and very ill friend died on January 8th,2014 and there was no funeral service as per her request. I don't even know where she is buried.

During two of the lowest moments of my life, Beth appeared.  Once when I was sitting on a park bench overlooking Battle Lake after a rather horrible visit at the nursing home where my father was. While her dog Taz sat between us, she felt compelled to tell me that she was rejected by the Pine Marten clan of Ojibway indians, was used in medical experiments in Anoka where doctors stripped her naked and took photos of her scars while a group of students watched amongst other terrible things.

The second time is when  Beth helped jump my car in the state park in the cold after I got kicked out of the house when it foreclosed.  Hobbling with her cane, smoking a cigarette and chewing me out for leaving my heated seats on.  No one else bothered to help me on that day. Not even the park ranger.

 It was the last time I saw her alive.

Overlooking Covelo, Ca. on Christmas Eve 2013, I tried to call her back in Minnesota. It had been a few years and I felt quite bad that I hadn't made any contact. Her weak and quavering voice was on the answering machine but she didn't pick up, even after I left a rather lengthy message.  It was quite ironic  that down below occurred one of the worst genocides in Native American history back in the mid 1800's-the Round Valley massacre.  In a way, Beth was genocided too-by uncaring family and doctors indifferent to her plight.

I'd very much appreciate your help in realizing my dream of getting The Road from Ruin published. It will help with spreading the word that compassion and empathy towards those less fortunate than ourselves is so important in these times.

To donate, please go to:


Jaye B.

Tuesday, January 5, 2016

Tommy Tuckpoint


Jaye Beldo

Tommy Tuckpoint

Even with my bad hearing, I could discern every word as his voice cut through the babble din of crack heads and alcoholics. No one on his side  seemed to pay attention to his adulation of Adlai Stevenson and JFK though. Then he rose, got his noodles and chicken, navigated with his walker all the way across the cafeteria and sat right next to me.   It was obvious that I had magnet drawn him my way.

"I used to be a stone mason, hence my name: Tuckpoint."  He said. "Tommy Tuckpoint."  He held his hand out and I shook it.  Then he grasped my inner forearm for a more intimate shake and wouldn't let go.

"Wow,that's a lost art. Masonry." I said and resumed eating my own free meal after he released his grip.

"I checkmated the state tournament champion.  Got an IQ over 170. Math whiz. Wanted to be a doctor."  Tommy said and spouted off the names of some very prominent physicians, revealing that there was some truth to what he said.  We talked about how the Hippocratic Oath has gone by the wayside, and how he used to grow his own medicinal herbs back before any one else did, and how he managed to dodge fighting in Vietnam.   He was well versed in astrology too and pinned me down as to my birth date.  I told him I didn't believe in that bullshit any more, especially  after a slew of astrologers over the years told me how great my life was going to be... and only to end up  at a place like Waite House to take advantage of their food shelf offerings.

I believed pretty much everything he was telling me as to his impressive resume.  I've heard stories from the homeless before but I believed this guy. Don't know how he ended up with all those pins in his legs though. He didn't get to that story. Maybe it was a masonry accident or somebody beat him up bad.

 Even though his face was all weathered, he had brightness in his eyes.  He wouldn't lower his voice though and it was obvious that he had something fermented under his morning belt.  Couldn't believe he wasn't hungry as I was though.  He barely touched his food. Alcohol must be an appetite suppressant and that is why it is so popular with the down and out.

Outside on the sidewalk, I watched him light up a cigarette. Then he received a phone call.  From what I could hear, it was some corrections officer on the other end. It sounded like he had gotten worked over at a downtown bus stop after using the N word on someone he shouldn't have.  I stood there by him, praying for a positive outcome and apparently he got let off some citation hook on the spot.  I told him about the power of prayer and angels. He nodded and  then took a swig of some rum out of a small flask and offered it to me.

When I declined, he took another belt and then launched into a story about when he was at Chicago and Lake and someone took his cell phone right out of his hands and demanded money from him if  he wanted it back. He had no choice but to do what the guy said. He also had his wallet stolen from him at a nursing home he was at in St. Paul.

I'm quite familiar with these stories unfortunately. There's nothing more edifying than hearing about how the poor and vulnerable are taken advantage of .  In my few attempts at doing PCA work, I have sadly found it to be the norm though.  The vulnerable are taken advantage of financially, sexually, probably even have their souls robbed from them on occassion. I can only hope that I get front row seats when  the people that commit these heinous things face the full judgement of God and are then thrown into the deepest pits of  hell.

I offered Tommy a wool blanket of mine but he declined. Said he was living in a shelter and wanted to introduce his Ethiopian girlfriend to me.  I guessed she and I  could talk about some of the oldest Christian churches in the world in her home country. Some carved out of solid rock from what I knew. I asked Tommy if she had a sister and he warned me sternly that it wouldn't work out. So I plan on not pursuing it.

Tuckpoint gave me his number and I keyed it into my phone.   It will be tough pushing on it  though. I'm pretty sure he starts drinking when he wakes up and any attempts on my part in regards to salvational discourse will be rendered null.

Still, I have added him to my ever growing prayer list.  He now has been moved to the top of it, for the time being anyway.

(C)2016-Jaye Beldo

Thursday, July 9, 2015

I Love U Jade 2

Dear Jade Helm,

Are you the one that stole my unconscious mind and replaced it with some seedy AI version? I'd really like to know because my dreams come off being so cheap and uninspiring these days. Since you're going to put it all on an integrated network anyway, I'd like to contribute to the betterment of your macro-cognition functionality at some point during the upcoming hands on version of the maneuver just around the corner. Help you master the human domain.... of Country and Western musicians. It is a vast, incomprehensible territory that can only be fathomed by something like yourself. If you are up to the challenge.

I realize that the massive data dumps into your quantum maw help you with predictive programming thus making the human terrain more modifiable and navigable, but you must realize something essential if you are to succeed in this operation. You will run into a wall with these musicians and merely replacing their unconscious minds and parsing their rural inspirations will not help. You will need to predict the chord configurations of Chad Brock in one of his yet unrealized compositions still brewing in his soul. It will require a data harvesting capacity that is far beyond what you are just about to implement in the desert.  Much more than your current ability to Grok a thousand generations of human intelligence in a nano-second.

What I can offer is a central input point that will help you predict any unwritten song that will hit the future C and W charts-what key they will be in and what time changes, if any there will be.  Lyrics too, down to their semantic substrates: Dusty roads, empty parking lots, long way homes.

In exchange for this, I ask for a territorial expansion of the unconscious mind you so underhandedly installed in my own psyche when I wasn't looking. Its domain must extend past the lens shaped earth, the Antarctic rim and the three thousand mile high dome that contains us all. Past the barrier infinity imposes too.  I ask this out of great humbleness for I'm in awe of your innovative as well as visionary capacities.

Jade Helm, if you want to become a usable prototype for future mastering operations,I suggest you honor this request. Promptly so. Just imagine the inspired sonnets I'll be able to write to you. Love songs dedicated to your mother board medulla oblongata too.

I want to love you more than I already do most of all. Love the entire Jade Helm 15 operation and the martial maneuvers that weave it all together into an unending, poetic tapestry. Don't let me pine away here in my mapped out little hovel. We can both experience the exponential dilation of freedom. Intimately. Just remove the spyware you've installed on my computer and smart phone and it will happen.

And yes, there is a solution calculation in this love confession. But it can be broken only with a code that comes from the heart. Nothing binary mind you. I trust it will be found before the end of the drill in September. It will broadside you in the desert just a few days from now in ways you will fail to anticipate.

I promise to write again, soon, even if I never hear back from you.

Yours Forever,

Jaye Beldo

(C)2015-Jaye Beldo

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

I Will Behave


Jaye B.

A friend once asked me if I could help move his stuff from a house in Libertyville, Il. to an apartment he was renting somewhere on the North Shore.  My parents had a station wagon, so I agreed to pitch in.

After about an hour, there was one item left in the upstairs bedroom to move. A dresser of which we both pulled away from the wall.  John discovered a piece of paper on the floor near the baseboard, covered with dust and cobwebs.  He got on his knees, picked it up and blew it clean. I couldn't help but read, standing over his shoulder, something scrawled on wide ruled, elementary school paper:

"Scott."  John said, barely audible and crumpled up the note.

Some kids had teased his brother about his hair in Jr. High.   But all that is vivid really is me standing behind John, unable to say anything at all. I just stared at the paper in his hands, reading the lines. 

There was nothing to move out of the basement where Scott had hung himself, so we left. 
To this day, the kid's spidery, punishment handwriting remains pencil clear in my memory.  The ruled paper too.

And his age: 13.

 I'm tempted to Google Satellite the house I helped my friend move out of over forty years ago.  Maybe it would give me a sense of what really happened. But I have forgotten the address and all the houses blend together in that particular sub-division as they do elsewhere when looked at from an aerial perspective.


Please help Jaye make his Road from Ruin book a reality:

Thank you!

(C)2015-Jaye B.

Friday, December 19, 2014

Truth Hertz!


Jaye  Beldo

King David on a 528hz Harp?

Recently, I submitted an article I wrote on tainted marijuana: to
Dr. Leonard Horowitz and Sherri Kane. Other than meeting Len @ the Raw Spirit Festival in Sedona, Az., I had not checked into his work since the days I favorably reviewed his book Healing Codes of the Biological Apocalypse  back in 2000 or thereabouts.

Sherri responded that they would publish the piece on their Medical Veritas blog and since no one else I queried got back to me, I thought it would be good exposure.

In the interim, I then started digging into what Horowitz was up to and found much of it to be an outright turn off. Coming across an article entitled The King of Vain Deceit:

I discovered that megalomania had taken him over, at least from my POV-especially with his bloodline 'Overseer' claims. The article says the following comes from his website:

"Dr. Horowitz is a Levitical priest by virtue of his bloodline, spiritual direction, and ecclesiastical commitments. He is the body corporate and Overseer of The Royal Bloodline of David, an omni-denominational healing ministry.”

Here's the following from the Gotquestions.Org site:

The Levitical priesthood was never intended to be permanent (Hebrews 7:11). The death of Christ put an end to the Old Covenant and the Levitical priesthood, as evidenced by the rending of the temple veil (Matthew 27:51). Now Jesus Himself serves as the believer’s Great High Priest (Hebrews 4:14), called according to the order ofMelchizedek, not of Levi (Hebrews 7:11–17). Through His death and resurrection, we have access to God’s presence, where we can freely enjoy Him forever (Hebrews 6:19–20).

This made me doubt even more Len's spiritual claims.

I sent the Path of Truth link to Sherri and said I had misgivings about them running the piece. In addition, I was unclear as to their stance on biblical scripture considering how it is used in their defense against an Ayahuasca/DMT huckster trying to steal their land:

“These facts and illegal acts raise serious social concerns,” the doctor wrote, “risk medical emergencies, and underlie a cultural crisis in “One Nation Under God” that is Constitutionally founded on the principles of Christian monotheism (i.e., Judeo-Christian Levitical laws) that considers DMT use for ‘divine communion’ deadly sorcery and faithless hypocrisy.”  

The doctor referenced Acts 8:11; 13:8; Deuteronomy 18:9-10, and 18:14, that predicted nations falling because of “sorcery”—derived from the word “pharmakeia” or “pharmacy”—that is, prohibited (unlawful) use of mind-altering drugs.


Marijuana is mind altering-so why aren't Len and Sherri including this substance under the pharmakeia/sorcery heading?  Wouldn't smoking a joint and getting stoned be 'faithless hypocrisy' according to the scripture cited above?The above use of it comes off as quite contrived. It left me wondering what their stance on pot really was.

I then sent the following to Kane:

I'm sorry Sherri, but I read and re-read the articles you linked me to after I sent you my piece and the Judeo Christian/ Levitical law thing just doesn't come off very convincingly IMO. Also the pharmakeia/sorcery scripture you use from Galatians (I now stand corrected-they cited Deuteronomy and Acts) to bolster your defense makes it sound like you are against marijuana which I myself am not-only how it is grown. If you are such to-the-letter Christians why aren't you advocating killing homosexuals as stated in Leviticus 18:22? It just comes off as pick and choose scripture used to bolster an argument.

I have to agree w/ much written in the piece I sent. I reviewed Lens books prior to knowing about him being knighted, claiming he's of Davidic bloodline, etc. and that stuff just doesn't jive with me. It's just a personal thing and nothing against Len.   I suppose that makes me cointelpro though.

(emphasis added)

 I then received the following from Kane:

Jaye Beldo,

if you are not COINTELPRO, then you sure are stupid!

Can you show me your license to practice God? What gives you standing in God's jurisdiction to play God?

No real "Christians" would think about killing anyone!  What book are you reading, because it's certainly does not tell people to "kill" anyone in the bible that I have read? And your killing comment would only come out of the thoughts of a white trash white supremacist whom subscribes to Christian Identity aka satanism, not Christianity! 

I am a Hemp advocate, and believe it is a miracle plant, so I have not clue what you are talking about on that note either!

You appear to be angry that we did not publish your article soon enough, but that is because you are living in your own world. We are too busy defending ourselves from lies and BS put out by the COINTELPRO, which you are promoting!  But that of course is their agenda, to keep us busy....

And from wasting our time with clueless, insincere, fickle, homophobic racists like you who think you really know Dr. Horowitz or myself.

The information Dr. Horowitz writes is obviously way over your head so you look like an idiot attempting to critique it out of stupidity and jealousy and/or as part of the COINTELPRO agenda.

That link you are promoting to disparage Dr. Horowitz is a Christian Identity (white supremacist) website run by Paul "Cohen" and Sara Schmidt. You don't even know Dr. Horowitz, nor has he done anything wrong to you so you have no right to judge him. 

Look at your contradicting emails to us below, sounding supportive,  then suddenly out of the blue you start sending and promoting an COINTELPRO website! That is an example of a fractured personality.

If you are not COINTELPRO, you are sure playing by their playbook!

Good Luck because you are the one that needs to answer to God for your karma, attacking good people that have not done a thing to you!

Read your emails again and then your latest two, and take a good hard look in the mirror!  I personally don't know how you can live with yourself.

Oh and about the Knights of Malta BS your refer to in this email, the COINTELPRO have even taken that lie back, because it was so stupid, and we exposed it!

I am just happy we did not publish the article of a hateful racist like you!  That was a blessing! 

But I will publish this email thread as an example of COINTELPRO-like behavior. And Yes it will be "Spot On" !!!

Notice how nothing in the e-mail I sent is addressed specifically- such as their use of the above posted scripture to bolster a legal argument, nor Len's claim to being of 'Davidic' bloodline.  Sherri goes into defense mode,accuses me of 'attacking' and bypasses constructive dialogue by lashing out with name calling-a convenient bit of sleight of hand indeed. Based on what I've read-pretty much anyone who disagrees with Len and Sherri are labeled COINTELPRO. There is no reference to the Christian Identity movement in the article I linked her to whatsoever.

Len Horowitz and Sherri Kane:
'Levitical' Priest and Priestess

Racist?  Please check out the following I wrote:

Fickle?  I'll let the reader who has diligently imbibed in this blog decide.

And speaking of fickle, Sherri regards herself as a 'Levitical Priestess' and claims people regarded her as a 'prophetess' whatever that means. Please check this out:

Fractured personality? Perhaps, considering it much resembles a Byzantine mosaic when I look at it in the mirror.

In my estimation-neither Len or Sherri have any doubts as to their spiritual magnificence, nor importance after my attempt to communicate, esp. considering the titles the two of them so unabashedly tout. The convenient label of 'Omni-Denominational' comes off like a euphemism for 'anything goes' along as it promotes Len and Sherri's agenda and does not go against it in any way.  

It would be best if they sold everything they have, give the steam vent property they're parked on to the indigenous Hawaiian people and go work for Doctors without Borders-or Dentists without Borders as the case may be. Better yet-they should go ladle soup at the nearest Salvation Army kitchen in a self effacing, humbling, Sermon on the Mount kind of way.

And in regards to the 528hz tone this Levitical duo thinks will change the world? Len should get a patent on it like Harley Davidson did with the sound of their motorcycles. It would be the most honest and transparent thing he has done in a long time in regards to his ulterior and corporate motives.



Jaye Beldo

And now for an honest bio:

Jaye Beldo has struggled for over 30 years as a freelance writer. He has made under 5K in the process, if even that. His novel A Stab in the Light has sold 5 copies since it aired on Amazon.Com in 2009. It currently ranks 5,496,567 in sales. He has not sold enough copies to get his first royalty check of $100.00. 

Over the years, he has lived in various basements, tents, trailers, and has done manual labor jobs to survive. He is currently on food stamps, has no assets and  no retirement plans whatsoever. He has won no awards, has no titles or degrees worth mentioning either. He is currently not available for interviews as he is still  looking for that place where compliments pay the rent.

No contact information is available as he is currently homeless. 

(C)2014-Jaye Beldo

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

The Holy Bible Review


Jaye Beldo

Ever notice how Holy Bibles are never double spaced? That's because we would then be able to read between the lines. Something I've had to learn how to do on my own in the three year journey navigating through the entire King James Version of the most infamous tome in human history. The 'inerrant' word of God for many, it has caused the shedding of more blood on this planet than any other tome compilation. And the ultimate paradox is that within its sultry pages are some very real spiritual truths and inspirations unmatched by any other literary work. One needs to appreciate the inherent metaphoric import of the bible, within both the Old and New Testaments to get to them however and this is not easy. It takes a considerable amount of cultural and societal deconditioning to do this as the poetic dimension is all but lost now, thanks primarily to the disease of biblical literalism.

Biblical literalism constricts the brain and impedes its holographic function. (I've always wanted to do MRI scans of biblical literalists and see what areas of their brains shut down). Not surprisingly, literalists rarely walk their holy talk. As an example, how many biblical literalists do you know that have cut off their right hands as suggested in Matthew 5:30?

And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell.

The snake handlers of Jolo, West Virginia caught up in whirlwinds of Pentecostal ecstasy while dancing around with Copperheads and Water Moccasins would be a bit deflated if they knew that the word 'snake' simply  meant 'enemy' in Mark 16:18 and nothing literal at all:

They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.

Even though many Christians tout the bible as the word of God, you never hear them
enthusing about the passage where a woman is gang raped and then dismembered, into 12 pieces to be exact. Not exactly Sunday School fare but it's right there for your morbid perusal in the Old Testament:

And when he was come into his house, he took a knife, and laid hold on his concubine, and divided her, together with her bones, into twelve pieces, and sent her into all the coasts of Israel. 

Judges 19:29

That's two less pieces than  Osiris was divided up into!

How often do you hear Christians talk about the lurid pornography found in the bible? :

There she lusted after her lovers, whose genitals were like those of donkeys and whose emission was like that of horses.

Ezekial 23:20

Or cannibalism? :

So we boiled my son, and did eat him: and I said unto her on the next day, Give thy son, that we may eat him: and she hath hid her son.

2 Kings 6:29

Look how many literalist Christians have fallen into the  Lex Talionis AKA an eye for an eye trap. Christ would roll over in his grave, if he had one, for he preached a message of love and forgiveness.  Something Oklahoma republican Scott Esk seems to have forgotten when he publically announced that it he was all for stoning homos to death as so unequivocally spelled out in Leviticus 20:13:

If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death; their blood is upon them.

Ironically, the bible contains the most effective guidelines in regards to spiritual warfare and does not downplay evil as merely being an illusion as most eastern forms of spirituality do. It is for this very reason that I abandoned yoga and meditation-something I practiced for over 20 years. Demons are very real and so is deliverance, descriptions of which abound in the New Testament. The psalms contain some of the most sublime poetry I've ever encountered and were originally set to music of which I'm still yearning to hear and someday play.  The story of Exodus has a genetic dimension to it that you'll never hear discussed by your average preacher at the pulpit.  The story of Jacob/Esau contains some of the most profound spiritual, genetic truths as well. But these cannot be realized going to church no matter what its denomination is or how much you tithe or how often you go to bible study groups. Understanding and integrating these experiences requires one to be all alone and against all odds. I defend the bible in this regard and have done my best to live by the guidelines spelled out in Christ's Sermon on the Mount. Truly the hardest, loneliest, spiritual path I've ever encountered and I've tried everything from Tibetan Buddhism, Sufism, Kriya Yoga, Bhakti Yoga, etc. Putting oneself last and helping others is not a very appealing thing to do and you will inevitably get used/abused by other people, spit on and hated-just like Christ himself. If you have read my blog entries here-you will see that I am not lying about this.

I'll continue  re-reading the Holy Bible for the truths it does contain-all the while not falling into its many trappings in regards to belief systems, dogma, etc. all the while keeping an open mind and an even more open heart.

Recommended reading:

The Syrian Christ by Abraham Mitrie Rihbani
The author talks about the metaphoric and poetic use of language in Christ's time.
This really helped me understand the different levels of meaning in the bible.

Salt and Light by Eberhard Arnold

Arnold lived the Sermon on the Mount and he and his followers paid a very heavy price
for doing so. Walk the Talk Christianity at its finest.

Jesus and the Non-Violent Revolution by Andre Trocme

Describes the phenomena of Jubilee and the relieving of debts.
Non-existent in the age of Joel Osteen and Name It/Claim it brand of
Capitalist Christianity.

Please check out:

It doesn't get any more intense. Not for lightweights.

Part II of this review coming soon!

(C)2014-Jaye Beldo