I returned to First Christian Church two weeks ago after an absence of several months.  This morning, Pastor Chuck Blaisdell told me before the service that I would not be allowed to speak over the open mic when everybody else was invited to share a “moment with God” because I had been “manipulative” of the opportunity the previous two Sundays, but I was allowed to attend for the service.  Last Sunday I shared a word from Jesus Christ which was timely because of the upcoming election: “You can’t believe what I believe and be a Democrat.”  The week before, I shared with them that I had received a word from the Holy Spirit and two and a half years ago I told the city council the city would be destroyed and they didn’t listen and the Waldo Canyon Fire in late June, the worst fire in Colorado history, was a fulfillment of the prophecy.  (Click here)  Immediately prior to the open mic was a big promotion for Ecumenical Social Ministries after which they passed the plate for donations; I followed with my personal testimony to the effect that I had been thrown out of ESM for no reason and was looking forward to a cold winter this year; the pastor reassured us all that he would personally look into the matter.  Beyond that, there was no response to these words of truth until this morning.

Last winter I sent an email to the pastor to introduce myself, indicating what he might expect from me and my ministry.  He replied by email that we had some basic disagreements.  I chose to attend there because the Salvation Army homeless shelter, which ideally opens to all on subfreezing nights, throws us out at 7 a.m. and the soup kitchen serves breakfast after 8:45 on Sunday; the church is located nearby and their 8:15 service is conveniently scheduled to bridge the gap on a cold morning.  Take up your mat and walk.

They call themselves “Disciples of Christ” but I won’t be returning, and here is the reason why.  Before service, when he verbally tied my hands, I said okay, but that it was the word of the Lord.  “No it wasn’t,” he flatly declared.  There is nothing I can say that can’t be contradicted, nothing I can do that cannot be condemned.  But Jesus Christ always has the last word and his prophets are top of the food chain.  During communion toward the end of the service, I received two words, “He will be cut off” and “He rejected the word of the Lord and God has rejected him.”  This is a twelve word message.   I wrote them on a piece of paper for my blog and thought to ask God if I should give it to him.  He said, “You might as well.”  I did so as I left, saying I closed out my Hushmail account–actually they closed it after three weeks of inactivity when I was thrown out of the library for two weeks and had no access to a computer (click here), but Jesus had told me to “get out of Hushmail” anyway.  He asked me this morning if I had received his email of last week and that is the reason I hadn’t, I said.  I also got a word, “Now that the church has closed” which may relate to this incident.


20 Keeping a close watch on him, they sent spies, who pretended to be sincere. They hoped to catch Jesus in something he said, so that they might hand him over to the power and authority of the governor.  (Luke 20 NIV)

Pikes Peak Library District (8-17-12)

Is there any place I have not been thrown out of?  Somehow I have heretofore more or less successfully navigated the minefield at the library.  A swarm of security guards and police officers, all of them zealous for the law, assiduously patrol the stacks, assuring no one has an eye closed or a shoe off or is in possession of contraband paraphenalia such as a water bottle, empty or full, or a bag.  I have written about my dream where I was not allowed on the library property; it came to pass on Tuesday morning, July 31 and fortunately not in the middle of the winter when the fact that there is nowhere else for the homeless to go is exigent.  Now I know why they call it a LIE-bury.  I tried to sign in to a computer and was not permitted to do so.  A security guard said they wanted to talk to me.  I turned myself in to the PPLD police substation and was informed that somebody said that somebody said that somebody saw me pry open a plastic case and remove the DVD rather than check it out.  In fact, on Monday afternoon I had checked out “The Woman in Black”, then checked out a DVD player to watch it on.  After duly checking it out, I swiped the plastic case in the swiper and it turned green and I opened it in the usual way.  This has been routine for me over the years and I have never had to find an alternative to the standard operating procedure.  The only anomaly was that the machine did not give me a receipt, which is not unusual.  And as often as not, I must then take movies to a checkout clerk because the cases remain red, or locked, after swiping.

The security guard seemed confused, saying they had found the movie properly returned in the drop box after I had viewed it and there was no evidence of tampering.  But he insisted that I had not checked it out and that he had me dead to rights.  He filled in the blanks on the form letter but had to do so three times and even then he spelled my name wrong.  The letter cited me for disruptive behavior and was supposed to be supported by an inclosure with my bad behavior highlighted, but there was no attachment, only the aforementioned cover letter.  I said I could probably afford two weeks out.

The movie exploited every gimmick in the book: creaky doors, faces in the window, footsteps in the hallway, the hostile locals; I didn’t really want to see it anyway.  The scariest part was when D-cubed showed up to pester me*.  I know I told him to tell his handlers to tell him to stop that.  He sat next to me and began examining the movie case.  I told him he was making me nervous and asked him if he were doing anything which would cost me money.  He ignored me but was careful to ensure that I was fully aware of his exaggerated investigation.

What did he know and when did he know it?  My sister, who works there at the Kafka branch, was hovering around at the same time with another employee.  Only on Tuesday morning did I understand that they all knew what was going on the day before I did.  Shortly afterward, his minivan was rammed by a cement truck.  Maybe it’s nothing.

I came back after my hiatus just in time to see the movie they show every second Tuesday at noon, Sherlock Holmes.  But now I am on record with the library as a criminal; the security guard followed me into the movie and announced to all of us senior citizens that he was keeping his eye on us, ha ha.  Are they setting me up for winter?

*the Holy Spirit corrects me: …to challenge me.

Footnote: Sunday evening, the 26th of August, I went to “dinner” at the Lord of Glory.  A brat served me a hotdog, or something like that.  I sat down.  A random Mexican standing in the long line looked at me, pointed to his eye and said, “I’m keeping my eye on you!”  Very few people read my blog, so it must be a coincidence.  Right?

Four Bible witnesses about homelessness

Will America be homeless among the nations?  Only if she reaps what she has sown.

There is an obscure verse in Amos, 6:9, the meaning of which is not immediately obvious to the casual reader: And it shall come to pass, if there remain ten men in one house, that they shall die.  God clearly had in mind the incident in Genesis 18:32,33 when Abraham jewed Him down regarding the destruction of Sodom:

32 And he said, Oh let not the Lord be angry, and I will speak yet but this once: Peradventure ten shall be found there. And he said, I will not destroy it for ten’s sake.  33 And the Lord went his way, as soon as he had left communing with Abraham: and Abraham returned unto his place.

The message being, that Samaria’s destruction would be total, none would survive.  Jesus said, “I know what they do to people who live on the street” and I infer from the Bible that even Lot and his family would have been lost in the wrath against Sodom were it not for his insistence that the angels not sleep in the street but come into his house for the night; one might say that he was saved by his works:

19 The qtwo angels came to Sodom in the evening, and Lot was sitting in the gate of Sodom. When Lot saw them, he rose to meet them and bowed himself with his face to the earth 2 and said, “My lords, rplease turn aside to your servant’s house and spend the night sand wash your feet. Then you may rise up early and go on your way.” They said, t“No; we will spend the night in the town square.” 3 But he pressed them strongly; so they turned aside to him and entered his house. And he made them a feast and baked unleavened bread, and they ate.  (Gen 19 ESV)

Job was known far and wide for his rectitude; listen to his self justification before God:

31 Haven’t the members of my household said, “Who is there who has not had enough to eat at Job’s table?”  32 No stranger had to spend the night on the street, for I opened my door to the traveler. (Job 31 Holman Christian Standard Bible)

This leads to Isaiah 58 and Matthew 25, a pair of chapters in which our Lord by the Holy Spirit says the same thing in both the Old and New Testaments.  A list of works are presented which, if obeyed will unlock the blessings of God, will untie his hands in the lives of his people.

“Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of wickedness,
to undo the straps of the yoke,
to let the oppressed[b] go free,
and to break every yoke?
Is it not to share your bread with the hungry
and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover him,
and not to hide yourself from your own flesh?
Then shall your light break forth like the dawn,
and your healing shall spring up speedily;
your righteousness shall go before you;
the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.
Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;
you shall cry, and he will say, ‘Here I am.’ (Isaiah 58 ESV)

Jesus, in 25 of Matthew, says of the sheep and goats, it’s the difference between heaven and hell.

31 “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. 32 All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. 33 He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.
34 “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. 35 For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
37 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39 When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
41 “Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. 42 For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, 43 I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’
44 “They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?
45 “He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’
46 “Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”

I have been living on the street here in the Bible Belt for more than ten years, and I can tell you that no one has come close to meeting these criteria, these prerequisites for blessing.  The Lord said, “Why is my son (still) living on the street?”  I got a nervous laugh at a homeless service when the pastor asked if we were living under the law or living under grace and I replied that I was  living under the bridge.  Many say to me that they are saved by faith–I think they mean grace as we are justified by faith and saved by grace–and not by works as an excuse to do nothing, aside from a few palliatives, because they “believe in Jesus”, but they conveniently forget that while the Bible is clear that we are not justified by the works of the law, works of obedience to the faith are mandatory.   The first thing Jesus said to each of the seven churches of Revelation was “I know thy works.”  For the Son of man shall come in the glory of his Father with his angels; and then he shall reward every man according to his works. (Matt 16:27)  This is why the city and nation are in danger of a goat judgment.  I got this word in the spirit: “I’m donating this to the poor, just don’t get any on me.”   The world would be a different place if Christians were obedient, as righteous Lot was.  There is an important distinction between Abram and Abraham which is not made in the new testament, but an understanding of which helps me reconcile the apparent discrepancy between Romans 4 and James 2, salvation by faith and salvation by works.  Nobody wants to hear about their covenant responsibilities, and that’s fine with me.  I have short coattails; as Jesus said, Where I am going, they cannot come.

God repeats himself about the importance of loving our neighbors in Jeremiah 17:10, Revelation 2:21-23 and Romans 2:, as follows:

10 “I the Lord search the heart
    and test the mind,[a]
to give every man according to his ways,
    according to the fruit of his deeds.” (ESV)

He will render to each one according to his works: to those who by patience in well-doing seek for glory and honor and immortality, he will give eternal life; but for those who are self-seeking[a] and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, there will be wrath and fury.There will be tribulation and distress for every human being who does evil, the Jew first and also the Greek, 10 but glory and honor and peace for everyone who does good, the Jew first and also the Greek. 11 For God shows no partiality. ESV

21 I gave her time to repent, but she refuses to repent of her sexual immorality. 22 Behold, I will throw her onto a sickbed, and those who commit adultery with her I will throw into great tribulation, unless they repent of her works, 23 and I will strike her children dead. And all the churches will know that I am he who searches mind and heart, and I will give to each of you according to your works. (ESV)

We know about God’s purpose in destroying Sodom from 2 Peter 2:6:

And turning the cities of Sodom and Gomorrha into ashes condemned them with an overthrow, making them an ensample unto those that after should live ungodly;

But Jeremiah, among others, points out the sinfulness of God’s covenant people as being worse than the surrounding nations, and the punishment was commensurately worse, because they were held to a higher standard.  They were violating the Sabbath and refusing to release their slaves, in violation of God’s law.  Jeremiah 21 and 19 foretold what would happen if there was no repentance, but 18:18 indicates the people would not listen but rather persecuted the man of God.  I have noticed the tendency of people to take clear words of warning as personal affronts.  I understand why they rise up against me, because if what I say is true, then everything they believe is wrong.  It is interesting to compare the siege of the city with the former siege in Isaiah 36 and 37.  18:18 hints there had grown up, in the intervening years, an elaborate religious system which the prophet came in conflict with:

Then said they, Come, and let us devise devices against Jeremiah; for the law shall not perish from the priest, nor counsel from the wise, nor the word from the prophet. Come, and let us smite him with the tongue, and let us not give heed to any of his words.

In Lamentations, Jeremiah said “I told you so,” comparing the judgment on “the streets of Jerusalem and the cities of Judah,” a worst-case scenario from Dt. 28 and Lev.26, unfavorably with Sodom’s, a posteriori,

For the chastisement[a] of the daughter of my people has been greater
than the punishment[b] of Sodom,
which was overthrown in a moment,
and no hands were wrung for her.[c]

Jesus Christ said, “The garden of Rome is hanging from New York.”  The book of Hebrews applies this progressive revelation to the complete Sodom-Jerusalem-Vatican axis, as contradistinct from the heavenly Zion in chapter 12, by posting severe warnings against violating the Great Heavenly Covenant.  Christians are held to the highest standard of all.  To whom much is given, much is required.

Here’s the latest from Taco Bell.  As I mentioned in Crystal Cruse, I often walk to the fast food establishment on south Nevada Ave. to “feed the warden”, in prison parlance, before retiring to camp for the evening.  Few people are employed and even fewer dine there; the young workers are usually to be found sitting around smoking and gabbing, a far cry from when I was similarly exploited.  For some time now, after sitting on the can, there has been an obligatory rude knock on the door and jiggle of the door handle.  I always answer with a hearty “hello”.  Last night, the attack was escalated: after the usual routine, a key was inserted in the lock and the door was opened to expose me.  The girl with the key was shocked, shocked to see an elderly patron sitting there with his pants down and rebuked me, saying that I should have answered to her knock, which I had been sure to do as usual, while the older gal looked on approvingly.  Given my enemies’ obvious determination to portray me as a sex pervert and all around good guy, and I defend their right to believe that, this incident may not bode well for my future at Taco Bell and I may do my business elsewhere from now on.  At the Wendy’s downtown, the girl asked me if I wanted a receipt when I left.  What would Dave say?

New Life Church

I have written elsewhere about the church of Sodom and will follow up with a couple brief testimonies about New Life Church.  A gunman opened fire on a Sunday morning and two sisters were killed, Rachel and Stephanie Works.  The message was clear: there were dead works at New Life Church.

Again, I attended a service and when the music started I was looking at the speakers and the Lord said, “Doom box.”  In a vision I saw Ted Haggard’s face in extreme close-up on a TV screen and he said, “From now on, the news will be broadcast from New Life Church.”

Again, when I was praying at the World Prayer Center, which is associated with New Life Church, I said by the Spirit, “How did I guess; how did I know; how did I Wes; how did I woe?”  Wes Tullis was in charge up there and the next Sunday I attended the evening service at the Church, which was not my habit, and the first announcement was about Wes’ son, born with Down’s Syndrome, who had been rushed to the hospital with seizures.

Back in the ’80s, I received this word of knowledge from the Holy Spirit: “I am a long straight shaft.  God has taken me from his quiver, positioned me on his bow, pulled back the string, and whoever gets in my way, it will be his own choice.”  A night or two later, I was taken to a church I had never attended before.  We walked in early; few were there at the time.  The pastor was crying out over the pa system, “You are a weapon, you are a weapon, you are a weapon in the hands of God!”  Much like Jeremiah being a battle ax.  In his sermon, he called himself an arrow, as opposed to some who are daggers for in close fighting.  Afterwards, I went forward and told him I was an arrow, also.

In a vision, I saw New Lifeless Church on fire.  There was a look of anguish on a woman’s face, perhaps his wife, Gail.  I later asked Ted if he’d had any confirmation from the prophets and he said “No”.

Again, after I went homeless, I threw some clothes in the as yet unimpounded car and drove up to the World Prayer Center where there is a laundry facility for the guest rooms.  WPC is associated with NLC and is located on the same property.  I routinely prayed at this location and attended the church over the years.  I washed a load and was rudely told by security that I was not welcome there for that.  It was open 24/7 and I was not the only person who found it the only place to stay at night.  When I left, I told the macho antagonist that God would judge between us before he threw me out and then I told a prophetic brother, who was living in his car on the parking lot, that dirty laundry would bring the church down.

Thirty days after I was kicked in the face and had my nose broken by a couple of gang stalker bat boy thugs while I was sleeping in the outhouse at America the Beautiful park, Ted Haggard was exposed and disgraced and defrocked from the ministry for sexual impropriety and drug use.  (Jesus had said, in a different context, that judgment would come in 30 days.  Maybe it’s nothing.)  Ted founded the megachurch and was also president of the 80 million member National Association of Evangelicals.  Mikey knew him personally; they sang Just as I Am together back when the church met in Ted’s basement.

So I took the load to Couture’s laundry on Tejon and when I prepared to insert my last dollar into the change machine, Jesus said, “You don’t have to do that.”  Since then, I have not had to do laundry because the Lord has provided me a lot of nice clothing in lieu thereof, which is one reason everyone says I am a thief.  Again, free laundry was provided when I dredged my sleeping bags out of the silt from the archaeological dig that my camp became after the flood and I put them to good use until the CSPD Hit Team raid in late September 2012 when they stole everything, including my crystal cruze, and I moved into Carsophagus.


When I have time, I will write here about Carsophagus, the old abandoned car I have slept in since the raid.  Preview: Somebody asked me if I have running water and I said, “Only when the radiator leaks.”  Curiously, D-Cubed suddenly and dramatically appeared at the soup kitchen the day of the CSPD raid, lent me a sleeping bag and set me up in his second minivan to “car sit”.  Maybe it’s nothing.  The Holy Spirit said, “Anyone who’s true to Christ is going to wander as a beggar.”  The parking lot where I am located now is infested with police and tow trucks parading through.  God said the police are endemic, like bedbugs at the Salvation Army’s R.J. Montgomery New Hope homeless shelter.  I told D-Cubed, “We know how to deal with tow truck drivers.” Click here.  He barked off the tragic facts of the case without pause, about the tow truck driver who got caught in his own contraption and was dragged to death here in Where-else.  “That’s right,” I replied.  The Lord said, “I’d like to see how that shows up in the police report!”  12 words.  Another time, as I lay in the back in the parking lot, I addressed someone in the spirit, saying: “You don’t like it?  Fuck you.”  Then I addressed the Father, saying, “Thank you, Father.”  He winked at me; actually, it was a reverse wink: I saw His left eye lid open and then close.

Yet another coincidence

14 There is a vanity which is done upon the earth: that there be just men, unto whom it happeneth according to the works of the wicked; again, there be wicked men, to whom it happeneth according to the works of the righteous. I said that this also is vanity. (Eccl 8:14)

Jesus said, “The righteous will be given over, too; it won’t just be the wicked.”  In an exposé of COINTELPRO (click here), one of the tactics used by shadow-government gang stalkers is this:

Third, there was harassment through the legal system, used to harass dissidents and make them appear to be criminals. Officers gave perjured testimony and presented fabricated evidence as a pretext for false arrests and wrongful imprisonment. They discriminatorily enforced tax laws and other government regulations and used conspicuous surveillance, “investigative” interviews, and grand jury subpoenas in an effort to intimidate activists and silence their supporters.

(I have linked this persecution to the Inquisition elsewhere; perhaps it is no coincidence that the recent pope, Pope Benedict, was Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith.)

My public defender informed me in jail that the word on the street was that I am crazy.  As it is written, The days of punishment have come; the days of recompense have come; Israel shall know it. The prophet is a fool; the man of the spirit is mad, because of your great iniquity and great hatred.  (Hosea 9:7)   Jesus said, “People will go to any length to make the man of God look like a fool.”  “Crucify them lengthwise.”  One of the burly young deputies was accompanied by a pretty young woman from the mental health department the day they brought a battery of questions for me to answer.  I knew from my several arrests before that this was standard procedure; the questions were nosey and nobody’s business and I always refused to answer any of them.  This time they were ready.  The dep took this routine exercise of my constitutional rights as a personal affront to his dubious authority.  He could barely constrain his contempt and was virtually frothing at the mouth.  He forced me into a room with mirrored windows and cameras and commanded me to take my clothes off and demanded that if I did not answer the questions he would PERSONALLY escort me to the psych ward as a suicide.

When we arrived, I in my green “turtle suit”, Jesus said, “What they’re doing is against the law.”  Maybe that is why he said the Criminal Justice Center (CJC), or Cookie Cutter Justice as he calls it, will owe me a lot of money.  I suspect it will cost them more than that.  This was a psy ops designed to push me over the edge mentally: my sentence within a sentence spanned from Christmas Eve until New Years Day when they suddenly decided I was no longer “suicidal” and released me back into general population.  Home for the holidays.  The Holy Spirit says, El Paso County, it’s your jail.

Why is this important?  Jesus told me “there are no coincidences.  They’re all connected; all you have to do is prove it.”  But coincidentally, the library sent me an email saying my account would be terminated on November 22 if I could not produce proof of residence.  I wonder if anyone else will be similarly honored on his birthday which is also Thanksgiving Day and the runup to the jubilee of Kennedy’s assassination this year.  Another Tet Offensive.  They meant it for evil but God means it for good, I’m sure.

Yet another contradiction…

In past entries I have tried to convey a little of the flavor of the spirit at Restoring Hope Church where I was thrown out.  Pastor Doug Anderson.  They have now completed their move into a larger building but wait! what’s this?  Early in the morning one day before their scheduled grand opening, the building caught fire. (click here and here.)  This is the church where, for example, I brought a word from Jesus that “There are no contradictions in the Bible.”  Later I saw Mike McCartney, now deceased, with his laptop computer compiling a list of contradictions in the Bible.  The Bible calls this the “contradiction of sinners.”  He said “rebuked by sinners.”  A few days before the fire, I told a little birdie I had been thrown out of First Christian Church and he asked me if I wanted him to firebomb it, ha ha.  Maybe it’s nothing.  And Stefon did all that work painting the interior for the burnt offering.  Now it’s boarded up, desolate and ready for demolition like the old Express Inn itself and the doppelganger Abandon Hope Nazarene church formerly under Castor Pooper.  Some of us were discussing the cause of the fire last night and I heard the Lord say, “We know the truth.”  Remember his words: “God will burn you with fire if you withhold justice from me.  Let’s see how long it takes them to figure it out.  At some point, they’ll add all of this up and count the cost.  And if they still refuse to believe?  Trust your neighbors to get too close to the place of the fire; they’ll burn up instantly.”  The upshot of all this, for those who like to connect dots, is that back on that cold, rainy night when Jimmy Gilpin excommunicated me for as yet undisclosed reasons, I told them I would return the favor as Jesus Christ lives, everything was always a big favor, you know, and as of Saturday morning, Doug is effectively thrown out of his own church, like Pastor Jim Singleton before him.   Saturday November 3, one week before the fire, the Holy Spirit said, “We’re going to make it hell for them.”  For it is time for judgment to begin at the household of God; and if it begins with us, what will be the outcome for those who do not obey the gospel of God?  (1 Peter 4:17 ESV)  They moved to the Lon Chaney theater in the city auditorium but got locked out in mid January when the venue flooded.

1 Woe be unto the pastors that destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture! saith the LORD. 2 Therefore thus saith the LORD God of Israel against the pastors that feed my people; Ye have scattered my flock, and driven them away , and have not visited them: behold, I will visit upon you the evil of your doings, saith the LORD.  Jer 23

For the time is come that judgment must begin at the house of God: and if it first begin at us, what shall the end be of them that obey not the gospel of God?  1 Peter 4:17

Tuesday Nov. 14 at Bible study Corey asked me to read from the apostolic protocols in Matt 10:9-15, the Holy Spirit thereby corroborating what I had just told them about RHC; I received an icy reception with that remark:

“Do not get any gold or silver or copper to take with you in your belts— 10 no bag for the journey or extra shirt or sandals or a staff, for the worker is worth his keep. 11 Whatever town or village you enter, search there for some worthy person and stay at their house until you leave. 12 As you enter the home, give it your greeting. 13 If the home is deserving, let your peace rest on it; if it is not, let your peace return to you. 14 If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, leave that home or town and shake the dust off your feet. 15 Truly I tell you, it will be more bearable for Sodom and Gomorrah on the day of judgment than for that town.

Saturday Nov. 17, one week after the fire, this message: “The other word I got was: I’m parlaying the evidence over to you.”  Also, Russell Meyer, which is probably code for a prophet’s name, like Jerry Meyer.  Apostolic protocols.  Nov 20: He violated the rules of the protocol; could really hit you hard.  November 21: D-cubed showed up late at Bible study, had never attended before, tail flamboyantly wagging the dog, rebuking me and asking impertinent questions about alcohol consumption, twice warning me I had to be careful before leaving a few minutes later.  I asked him if he were going to similarly entertain us at the next meeting.  The others in the group, not surprisingly, sat there like sandbags to watch.  But I am sleeping in his car and there is no alternative to that.  November 27: Obviously, we are moving into a different era.  On or about December 10, Matt Reece came back into town and told me that Russell had told him that, shortly after the fire, Doug had a heart attack.  Next Tuesday night at Springs of Life church, I immediately asked Russell and Stefon about the truth of the rumor and both told me emphatically that it was not so, but that Doug was alive and well.

Immanuel Baptist, which previously met there, handed out gift cards to Denny’s every month, but they always came up with some new excuse not to give me one until it became onerous for me to go so far out of my way for nothing.

Fool Stamps

7-Eleven management put a big sign on the door at Pikes Peak and Tejon downtown reminding everyone that it is against the law to sell hot food to food stamp recipients.

SSPX0017There is posted a similar sign at the Bijou and Spruce location, I am told.  But the Department of Human Services will not issue food stamps unless the payee is enrolled in the cumbersome “Employment First” Goodwill program for “workfare” training.  Being enrolled means the client must do community service work at minimum wage rates to offset the cost of the food stamps, and meet various other punitive obligations which the pretty young minority women who run the office deem necessary, or the client will be “sanctioned” and lose the “benefit” for many months.  A Hobson’s choice, a contract of adhesion.  We are the engine that drives this economy and we should be treated with more respect.  Most of us receive $200 per month, which works out to 25 hours of community service.  But why work a minimum wage job to earn what Jesus calls fool stamps which cannot be used to purchase a cup of coffee, let alone do a load of laundry?  (As I write this, an announcement came over the speaker that no personal property, bags or camping gear or bike trailers, may be “stored” on the Library property and all must be removed immediately one way or the other, including the “garbage bag” by the front door.)  I checked the Code of Federal Regulations about food stamps and Colorado is in compliance with federal law in mandating this red tape, but states have the option not to require it which I understand most do not.  Reminds me of a dream I had when I was wrongfully jailed: a young woman was sentenced to two years as a secretary.  Jesus told me the righteous will be given over, too; it won’t just be the wicked.

Mat 27:23 And the governor said, Why, what evil hath he done? But they cried out the more, saying, Let him be crucified.

Truly we are on the slippery slope to slavery on the globalist plantation.  The strategy to keep it all legal can be seen in the 13th Amendment to the Constitution:

Section 1. Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.

Never mind.  I must complete 25 hours by Feb 25.  I’d better get busy but I do not feel it is the Lord’s will for me at this time.  Maybe I should tell Matt I can’t buy drinks for my friends anymore.  Plus, I have been sick for a good month since late January.  Ironically, I have the opportunity to work for Dee Cunningham at KGSB (Keep Colorado Springs Beautiful).  Op. cit.  Maybe I can be a mole and raid the camps of them who always raided mine!  Or I could work at the First Christian Church of Sodom, which you have read about above, as a custodian.  More than a Meal feeds a breakfast to the homeless on Saturday mornings, but they are located far beyond the reach of any bus; Care and Share would require me to lift far more than the doctor will allow; he says my hernia is technically an emergency.  I begged for some hours at the Marian House soup kitchen and was sternly warned by the volunteer coordinator that regular clients are not allowed to work off their debt to society at that location.  I signed up for food stamps three years ago because I heard I was deferred from the work requirement; I would not have done so otherwise.  At the time, there were too many “workers” and not enough “workfare sites” to accommodate them so those between the ages of 50 and 60 were deferred; they recently deferred the deferment, anyone over 60 is already exempt, dumping more workers in the saturated market and those of us in that age group got snared.  See proof text Numbers 4:23 where work age range is stipulated at 30 to 50.  (2/15/2013)  As of mid-March, I have been sanctioned as of the end of the month.  I accrued a record $830 on March 7 and we’ll see how much remains on April Fool’s Day which is the same day my sister ostensibly closed me out of my parents bank account with her power of attorney back in 2004.

Today is April 9, 2013 and I can report a total food stamp balance as of now of $666 which will keep me going for 100 days.  In other words, I was sanctioned at the end of March.  The Lord said, “We’ll make them last” and “You are exempt”.  I walked by the former DHS building at 105 N. Spruce on April Fools Day and saw the empty hulk as it has been since they vacated and relocated, concrete and steel waiting to be demolished, I guess.  No visitor to our fair city can fail to miss it from I-25.  Add it to the list.

Poor Aaron thinks he is the high priest!  He has been attending the Springs of Life church of late but has bought into the mindset there.  He scoffed at the idea that God would gamble when told of my call to win the Powerball back in 2001.  I told them again about the Waldo Canyon fire prophecy and he withstood me, saying that if I thought I were a prophet, I should prophesy and let him hear it.  I said, I just did.  He proceeded to ask me who was in attendance when I heard these words and tried to nullify my testimony by tacitly quoting Scripture: “Let the prophets speak two or three and let the other judge.” As if I cannot hear God for myself.  The Jews did the same to Jesus saying His testimony about Himself was not valid because there were no corroborating witnesses.  And so he used the law to judge me and I called him on it saying, as he stormed out, “Out of your own mouth you will be condemned.”  He turned on his heels, stomping and shaking the building, flailing his cane in the air and screaming “You will not mock my God! You will not mock my God! You will not mock my God!  You will not mock my God!” over and over.  Reminded me of Stefon the Stiff-necked when he raised his voice like a trumpet and cried aloud in the midst of the congregation:  “An apostle you are not! An apostle you are not! An apostle you are not! An apostle you are not!”  I said he could crucify me when the time comes, but I will speak the word until then (the Holy Spirit says, Good Job!).  The last two weeks he has been unable to speak having been afflicted with a painful abscess in his tooth and was perplexed about the necessity of taking antibiotics for it.

The same thing happened to Jason Newell at Restoring Hope Church.  I don’t think he has forged a link between the two events inasmuch as he regards the general consensus about my station as a pariah to the church.   How this devout friend of Doug’s could say in one breath that I was not stark raving mad, as was the consensus, but rather have a high calling in the church, and that the Bible promises me victory over my enemies, and in the next, scorn me with the utmost contempt, I cannot understand.  Maybe the meth addled his brain.  I cut Stefon a similar indulgence because of the heroin.  It occurred to me that Satan relies on consensus just as God relies on credibility; having lost his own, he has created a counterfeit, and he is very influential.  As Pastor Corey, who spent 17 years in prison for armed robbery, proclaimed about me at Springs of Life Ministries: “We know what kind of “man” you are!”

I was the song of the drunkards.  6091
A bad tree cannot bear good fruit.  You can cut it down and use it for a Christmas tree.  If it bears no fruit, you can decorate it with shiny colored balls.  Fasten it in a lamp stand with lights and tinsel if there is no intrinsic light.  Water it to keep it green and invite the neighbors to see it.  Like moving Pikes Peak one rock at a time, some things are simple but they are not easy.

The deli department at WalMart often has little morsels set out in little microcups for free samples.  Barely worth going out of one’s way for, but I got lost one day and there they were in front of me.  So I took one, a small stack of liverwurst and cheese in tiny little squares.  The clerk confronted me, “Freeloading, is it?”  I replied that I was merely partaking of God’s abundant provision for me, and that he prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies.  Would he overlook my insubordination?  When I was living under the bridge, a tramp appeared pulling a roller suitcase.  He said his name was Freddie, obviously a mocking reference to Red Skelton’s character, Freddie the Freeloader.  He interrogated us and I never saw him again.

The Springs Rescue Mission had a little wooden bench out back but they took it out because people were sitting on it.  They like to make us white folk stand in line outside in the sun in the usual record high heat until 4:30.  An associated ministry, the Resource Advocate Program, ostensibly puts the homeless in housing; I wouldn’t know.  At dinner at the mission, someone asked Sarah from RAP for a sleeping bag because the flood swept away our camps.  She responded that they didn’t want to give anybody anything that would enable him to live outside.  On the third Thursday in October is the standown for homeless veterans.  On the fourth Thursday, the city sweeps through the camps and steals what was distributed the week before.  Ken Freeman, the ostensible ombudsman for homeless veterans in the city, stated some years ago that no sleeping bags would be available at the stand down because it would promote homelessness.  When confronted by Robert Moran, the pastor of the Street Church, he promised to have them the following year, but never did, according to him.  I have written about a small fraction of the infractions at the shelter, but I can’t understand why a Christian ministry would put decidedly non-Christian people in positions of authority.  Gary was released from Memorial Hospital and returned to the Salvation Army homeless shelter after curfew with paperwork in hand, but they would not allow him in and he returned to the hospital to have his feet removed, I am told.  Colorado Springs has what I call the “Golden Triangle”: the soup kitchen, the homeless shelter and the county jail, but the gold plate is thus tarnished.  The Agency Connections bus shuttled poor people to where they needed to go; some were crippled, some were opposed by the weird weather here in the Springs, some had long distances to go for help because the city covers so much area.  It followed a set course and joined the charitable services together about four times a day.  Suddenly it was eliminated, for budget reasons.  Nothing replaced it.

The city of Colorado Springs followed suit with its unconstitutional war on poverty.  The sine qua non was the passage of the camping ban ordinance in 2010.  The free shuttle was eliminated, which ran up and down Tejon from the park and ride at I-25 to Colorado College every ten minutes.  This amenity was too useful for too many.  And the homeless rode it–I was one of them because I camped under the Nevada bridge by the park and ride.  They had just replaced the old shuttles with expensive new ones and I wonder who profited from that cost-cutting policy decision.  It wasn’t funded by the city anyway, at least not in its entirety.  Or is it the Washington Monument Syndrome?  The restroom in Dorchester Park by the park and ride, which I and other homeless people used–the only toilet in a two mile radius–has been shut down for years and all but two picnic tables and the grill have been removed.  And don’t open a beer unless you like gunboat diplomacy, a show of force from the great white fleet.  In Colorado Springs, drinking is a capital offense punishable by death; ask the drunks who can’t get into the shelter on a cold night and count their fingers.  The solution is to panhandle more money, which is against the law, to get sufficiently snockered to qualify for a police escort to detox.  God forbid they should be too drunk for the shelter and too sober for detox.  After I spent a good deal of time sitting on the bench at the bus terminal with my large bags, it was redesigned with a large security office, heavily armed and ample security staff and numerous large security signs prohibiting such nonactivity, but they offset the cost to the city by raising fares, reducing bus service and removing the service counter, replacing it with a series of route maps on placards.  And caveat emptor: Mountain Metro no longer recognizes damaged bus passes.  Jesus says, “The beast comes in through officious procedures.”  My hope is that we can lock down this whole city by simply living responsibly within our rights.  Ironically, rumor has it that many homeless are relocating to the Springs from Denver because of the draconian tactics there.  Hasn’t anyone in this Christian city ever read Ezekiel 16?  Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed because of their lack of care for the poor, among other things.  As I type this, the guy at the next computer is making snide remarks about deodorant, or the lack thereof.  The Holy Spirit counters with the word, mustard gas and moon gas.

The Pikes Peak Grill hosted a men’s Bible study on Friday mornings in a ritzy part of town–was it Mountain Shadows?  It was comprised of pompous Fred and 15 or so of his apparently blessed and successful friends from First Presbyterian Church.  Russ and I were the token Lazaruses: we were invited by Suicide Mike McCartney, now deceased, who drove us in one of his BMW 7s because my car was stolen years before when I was falsely arrested and imprisoned.  The wealthier brethren ordered nice breakfasts for themselves.  Finally, the waitress came around to us and graciously encouraged Russ to sit there for the meeting, but soon lost patience.  She repeated my order to me, that I was not allowed on the premises if I couldn’t pay for the privilege.  That’s the last tip I ever get from her:  I never returned, but Russ continued on every week, as Mike offered to buy us an order of toast on subsequent visits.  Let them eat cake.  I told Mike they would be thrown out if they threw me out and the Peak Grill soon went out of business (click here); the Bible study relocated to the Olive Branch downtown, which subsequently closed its doors after 32 years in business (click here for details) so they moved across the street to the Over Easy.  God smuggled me in at the end of a meeting and I asked them to pray that pastors would allow the word of the Lord to go forth in the churches, prompting an agent of the Inquisition to scurry out.

On the subject of Suicide Mike McCartney, now deceased.  He led a Bible study five mornings a week at Restoring Hope Church, which was very handy for us homeless during the winter because there was nowhere else in the city for us to go.  Like Jeff, he drove an expensive car to the homeless meeting and sat there with his laptop computer.  He seemed to have it in for me personally for some reason; other homeless slept there overnight, for example, but I never felt comfortable on the premises, nor was I allowed to sleep overnight, and I know Mike left a note for Jimmy, the “security guard”, singling me out for more abuse and accelerating my departure.  One morning, Mike was teaching and I looked at him in the spirit and received a clear word, “He’s going to have a stroke.”  I repeated the word to him and others, which was my responsibility, leading to more persecution.  Another pearl I threw to them was about the destruction of the city.  The Lord said, “I’m giving you a suicide,” and on July 28 2012, Mike hosed himself with carbon monoxide; rumor had it he and Brenda were separated, but his death came about a month after the Waldo Canyon fire, which clearly validated my prophecy.  He threw me out and God threw him out.  The Holy Spirit said God was going to prove me true and it might hurt some feelings.

I ran into a champion here in the “City of Champions”.  A champion of the Colorado state sport, called “Beat the Pedestrian”.  No one fusses about jaydrivers, but dare to step on a crosswalk and one is trespassing on the personal private property of every motorist in the vicinity.  Early Sunday morning I walked north along Cascade to First Christian Church on the corner of Platte.  How few times may one push the button to ensure the walk signal will come on?  I have yet to find out.  But there was no one on the streets and the little man was already lit up and so I had, I thought, the right of way, looked both ways and stepped into the crosswalk.  A big truck, diesel, I think, roared a wide right turn in front of me and the driver started cursing me, don’t you look? and so on.  I was dutifully obeying the laws of the land, but my best is never good enough.  Americans believe that might makes right, but Christians believe that right makes might.  Americans don’t play fair, and Daddy will take away their toys.  Those who drive irresponsibly seem to gravitate to me.  Perception is reality.  I brought this word to the gang at the erstwhile Restoring Hope Church: Your hatred of me will be your downfall.  Their insolence to the man of God will be punished.  Seems appropriate here, too.

Something similar happened a while back.  It was a cold winter night and I was returning to the shelter to grab a mat for the night.  Again, there was little traffic on the roads…fewer witnesses.  I was walking, as always, south on Tejon and was clear to cross Cimarron. As I proceeded into the crosswalk, a big, shiny new pickup truck, a diesel I am sure, snuck up behind me and made a right turn into me.  Great honk!  I stopped, turned toward the driver, looked him in the eye and raised my arm up over my head.  Jesus said, “Rocket launch!”  The next morning, I was walking south on Tejon again and a big, shiny, red fire engine snuck up on me as I started to cross Colorado, with the light, to make a right turn.  Loud siren, noisy horns and klaxon, flashy Christmas lights.  Carbon copy of the night before.  I ignored it and continued apace across the street.  I wonder how many houses burned down.  Jesus Christ says, “They think they’re above the law.”  I know the fire department is complicit and culpable in these things; they tried to wreck me with an ambulance on Union south of Constitution during rush hour.  Just as I have come to see these judges as nothing more than senior law enforcement officials for the New American  Inquisition, so too have I come to regard the fire department as the provisional wing of the police department.  How appropriate, then, that God should answer by fire, putting them on the front line in the war against Him.  They like to show up in disproportionate numbers at my Bible studies and to marry my girl friends.  Then there are the Cabbies On Patrol (COP); you haven’t lived until you have been swarmed by a fleet of zombie cabbies.  These COPs often outcop the cops in stalking, menacing, lurking and other violations of our rights.  But ultimately, such heroes share one characteristic with the common man: an innate susceptibility to the harmful effects of ionizing radiation.  Interesting graffiti in the stall at the shelter; must have been an angel drew it or someone with a lot of talent:  a big moon in my face and CSFD written below.  The message was clear: they’re asking for it.  (I wrote this before the fire.)  January 2, 2o14 I was sitting in the park and got two words which can only refer to these fires: “Well, now you have three in a row” and “I can tell you exactly where we’re going with this.”  The Lord had previously said, “Let’s not jump to conclusions about where we’re going with all this.”  A camera team came by but they moved on when I gave them the word in this matter.

Hear what the unjust judge says

Restraining orders are nothing but judicial derivatives, loosely related to legal fundamentals.  This option is a contract that gives the buyer the right, but not the obligation, to have someone arrested for no particular reason on or before a certain date.  But options are inherently risky; these investments are not for everyone, and past performance is no guarantee of future results.  You can’t turn a good man into a bad man by jurisimprudence.  My public defenders threatened to adduce evidence against me, but God told me they were lying and I stood my ground.  I asked them if they were working for the DA and they froze.  Jesus said, “Chamber around.”  He said, “Shoot himself in the foot.”   In the courtroom He said, “Cut them to shreds.”  He said, “On the 27th trial for trespassing, they finally won.” I answered it was self explanatory that the plaintiffs with their agenda were the criminals here and they were playing them all for fools but they didn’t know it.  I told justician Michael Feeney point blank the whole thing was a Rodney Dangerfield one-liner: I went to the nursing home to visit my mother; they arrested me for trespassing!  They did, however, promise to drop “mutiny on the high seas” should I plead guilty to a lesser charge.  I told them I don’t negotiate with terrorists and they let me go.  After my exoneration from trespassing God said, “Can the restraining order be far behind?”

I had the opportunity to read John Grisham’s The Innocent Man, which I found compelling given all of this.  If Grisham liked Ron Williamson’s drama, he will love mine.  Ashley, from the nursing home, was the notable horn against me.  There is a big red book in the law library called Bad Faith by Ashley, probably no relation.  Ashley on the stand: “You were trying to force your mother to write you a check!”  Me to court: “Maybe what she meant is that my mother was trying to force me to write her a check.”  Ashley: “You had something in your back pocket!”  I had a checkbook in my pocket at the time.  Me to Ashley: “Is it a crime to have something in my back pocket?”  I turned to Feeney: “Is it a crime to have something in my back pocket?”  Feeney momentarily recused himself, complaining he couldn’t answer because of his workload.  This was ironic because he clearly had too much time on his hands.  See Parkinson’s law.  I told him what he had told me: “That’s your problem.”

I heard a voice in the spirit, “It’s problematic whether justice was done.”  I was never, in any of my many trips to the courtroom, allowed to bring anything with me, let alone something I could use for my defense, like a Bible verse on a scrap of paper.  My accusers appeared against me in the morning, when everyone was fresh and happy; I was kept in a holding cell and fed a slice of baloney and a small, desiccated orange for lunch before judgess Hansen extended to me the privilege of defending myself in the afternoon.  Nor was I ever read my rights at any of my arrests.  My public defender asked Ashley, the only witness against me, “Do you have any personal knowledge of any wrongdoing on Mr. Tone’s part?”  “No.”  That was enough to convince a jury of my peers of my guilt.  I immediately identified the jurors as Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar and their understudies.

While in jail awaiting trial, I was slapped with a fraudulent restraining order (FRO) by the nursing home.  Jesus said, “Seven counts of first-degree perjury.”   For this, there was a pre-Enlightenment style “hearing” in the Star Chamber, but no trial, no crime, no defense, no witnesses, no evidence, charges, jury nor justice; only me, the plaintiffs and the judge.  Feeney tossed the FRO aside, saying the nursing home couldn’t do that and there was no basis for the FRO and certainly no reason to make it permanent.  The women immediately arose against me: “Crucify him! We need that restraining order!” and he called me back into the courtroom ten days later to reverse himself without explanation in a clear example of double jeopardy.  Who put the bug in his ear?  I heard a voice in the spirit: “We don’t have the resources to handle your case but I’m counting on the fact that it’s double jeopardy.”  I had a vision of a man sitting at a desk.  He was shaking his head, his hand on his forehead, and saying, “This restraining order is unbelievable.”  The Lord added his assessment: “The restraining order is not to be believed.”

When asked, they gave me an illegible copy of the FRO.  The date entered for the “incident” was more than a month after I was actually arrested.  What tactics might they have employed had I actually done something wrong?  But everything made sense when I learned I couldn’t have a gun with an FRO.  (Click here for a reference)  It was all a routine violation of my constitutional rights. This type of legal harassment is gang stalking COINTELPRO boilerplate.  Daniel’s enemies knew he would break the “law” by worshiping the living God and my enemies knew I would break the “law” by visiting my mother.  Starch Amber, from the public defender’s office (Get the justice you deserve), the one who told me the word on the street was that I am crazy, asked me why I didn’t simply request a hearing for a reconsideration of a restraining order.  I asked the obvious question: “How am I supposed to know there is such a thing as reconsiderations of restraining orders?  Did I miss the memo?”  I thought that was their job.  She accused me of getting angry; I answered I was indignant, that there is a difference she wouldn’t know because they didn’t teach her that in law school.  After my release, I walked across town twice a week to visit Mom until she died, anyway.  Fuck their god damn restraining order, and I want my car back, too.  If people stood up for their rights, this whole system would collapse.  Excuse me for spitting.

The Volunteers of America’s Laurel Manor nursing home was testing the fire alarm system one day while I was there.  You’ve been in nursing homes; you know how it is.  All the residents were subjected to these alarms; no precautions were taken to protect them.  A clear case of elder abuse.  This went on for a while after I managed to ask above the racket how much longer this would be taking place.  When I found out, I went to the desk and shouted my best, “This is unacceptable.”  Next thing you know, my presence at the nursing home was unacceptable and punishable by imprisonment.  I was unanimously convicted by a jury of my peers of violating their permanent fraudulent restraining order (VPFRO).  Judgess Karla Hansen asked me: “If I let you go, will you go back to visit your mother?”  “Of course.”  She said, “Then I have no choice but to give you the maximum sentence of one year in jail.”  The fire department again.  This has been a very bad year for wildfires here in Colorado.

When we first put my parents in a nursing home, which has since gone out of business, I went one day to visit and noticed my father’s wedding ring was missing from his finger.  He was inarticulate with dementia, although in a moment which did primogeniture proud he said, “I’m putting you in charge because you know more about it.”  I informed the staff at the desk and was met with the same old stonewall, not a word.  Soon after, I went on a quotidian visit to East Library and the director of the nursing home was sitting there in the coffee shop, obviously wanting to talk to me.  I should have done so and will never know what he had to say.  Then, after they were transferred to the Volunteers of America Laurel Manor nursing home, I was talking to my mother and one of the nurses was standing right there to spy on us as usual and Mom said she wanted me to take care of her wedding and engagement rings for her and took them off her finger and when she tried to give them to her first-born son, the nurse started swatting the heir, I mean air, and would not allow her to pass them on.  I reminded her she was a mere hireling, to no avail.

If my sister were speaking to me, I might ask her if she knows where the wedding rings are.  As it is, I shall ask the Lord of the rings.  She works at Penrose Library and I see her every day.  Mary was there when my father died and I want their deaths investigated when God gives me the leverage to do so.  Even Kay said something which led me to believe there was foul play, but I am out of the loop.  More recently, I stood in line for a sack lunch from Howard one recent Saturday and sat down on the curb to partake.  As I peeled a banana, a well-wisher sat down next to me and pointed out another stranger and said, “Do you know him?  Don’t trust him with anything!  He’d steal the ring off his dead mother’s finger!”  I felt like I was eavesdropping on some weird game of Chinese telephone, party line edition, for the spiritually brain dead.  I wouldn’t mention it but for the gang stalking overtones.  Jesus said, “The devil’s been lying about you big time!”

Early this morning, our little camp chickadee cried out near my tent: “Hee diddit! Hee diddit!”  I remember greeting Holly.  She responded by donning a T-shirt which read “SNITCHES GET STITCHES” and featured a large bore revolver pointed right at me.  Joe told me in May 2017 that she is dying from cancer with a few months to live.

Saturday at 11 a.m., the Street Church pulled up to Antlers Park with their van and I walked over to talk to Robert, the pastor.  As I approached, he cried out, “Here comes trouble!”  Ha, ha.  I quoted to him Elijah’s response to Ahab:

17 When he saw Elijah, he said to him, “Is that you, you troubler of Israel?” 18 “I have not made trouble for Israel,” Elijah replied. “But you and your father’s family have. You have abandoned the Lord’s commands and have followed the Baals. (1 Kings 18 NIV)

Then Sunday morning, I took the long, daily walk from my camp by the sewage plant to the soup kitchen for breakfast.  Beautiful, quiet morning, with very little traffic, foot or otherwise.  I walked up Tejon and crossed Las Vegas and heard one word: “Trouble!”  I turned back to see Bookworm walking on Las Vegas toward Tejon, not that I answer to that name as a rule.  “Whenever I hear that word, I know there is a gang stalker around,” I explained.  He is a nasty, dessicated old drunk who has lived under Tejon bridge for years and hangs out at Dorchester Park by the liquor store and for whatever reason, he didn’t have much else to say as we walked north.  His mind was admittedly elsewhere; we parted at the first ashtray as he took off to hunt snipes.  The first time I remember this sort of thing was some years ago outside King Soopers #53, in the parking lot, when a stranger rolled up and called out “Troublemaker!” and drove off.  Some say I have a persecution complex, but Jesus said, “Why does everybody hate him so much?  The closer you come to perfection, the greater the persecution will be.” 

Jesus said, “This little guy here can tell you what you need to know.”  I seem to have flushed out a duck.  Bookworm and I are nodding acquaintances, but we both kept to ourselves.  The day after I published the preceding paragraph, I exited the library and Bookworm, who was standing by the door with two security guards and CSPD, came up from behind and started physically pushing me around.  I told him to keep his hands to himself.  He said, “I try to be nice; I even hold the door open for you, but…” “I don’t appreciate it!” I finished his sentence for him.  I have often wondered who would be the first Dutch boy to pull his finger out of the dike.  I can say without fear of contradiction that Bookworm never read my blog; the only explanation for his aggressive behavior is that someone snitched.  I mean, there was a leak.  A memorial service will be held today at Dorchester Park. (_click here_)

Mike Draper recently told me a story about his trouble in the Navy as a SEAL.  He was thrown in the brig, he said, for throwing oranges at his commanding officer.  More Mike.  More cowbell.  But, then, I had blogged my dream about throwing that nasty little orange at the wall in the deputies’ office when I was incarcerated at CJC, which was followed by the actual closing of the Minimum Security Ward.  Another hint that another unlikely fan had access to my blog information.

Shelter Shock deals with another close encounter of the weird kind.  Carl tipped his hand, too; you can read about that here.  The Bible requires only two witnesses; I offer you these three.

I walked to the soup kitchen today and a fellow who has caught my suspicion  recently was walking toward me.  I don’t know his name.  This is a busy area; if you’re doing street theater, you aim for the widest possible audience.  When he saw me, he looked intently at his cell phone (they like to show off their cell phones because I don’t have one) and walked directly toward me, angling across the sidewalk in the process.  When we were about to collide, I said, without breaking stride, “Watch where you’re going, guy.”  A few steps later, I heard a loud voice a right behind me: “The word excuse me comes to mind!”  When I brought the word of the Lord at the Street Church open mic about the destruction of America, he followed up with a nonsense “word” to obscure what I had said.  He likes to stand in line behind me at these homeless feeds and gently bump into me, preferably with a dirty plate.  Wickedness from the wicked.  Another example: at Springs of Life Ministries, I told Patricia the pastor that I had Pete pegged as a trouble maker for quite a while.  He never came to the church after that, nor have I seen him since.  He is the one who accosted me during a service at the Mission and shouted out to standers by: “He is a thief and a liar!”  There were two big guys standing with their backs to me facing him who may have been angels.  Though the wicked join hand in hand, they shall not go unpunished.

Shortly after I told the leadership at Springs of Life Ministry about my suspicions regarding Peter–not the security guard at First Presbyterian–as troublemaker, and his public slander against me is not the only indication, Patricia and Tawnja brought a blank, new greeting card to me and told me Peter was in jail and would I like to sign it.  I haven’t seen the card since.  Some years before, a stranger came up to me in WalMart and put a big blank greeting card in my face, saying it was for Tom, the case manager at the shelter who was always throwing me out from my upper bunk onto the street after my two weeks were up, and who had, he said, suffered a heart attack, and would I like to sign it.  I did and he walked away.  Never saw the card again.  Tawnja, the outreach minister, brought in a little plastic container to church and asked if anybody liked seafood salad and I said yes and she gave it to me but she had already eaten all the seafood out.  The coleslaw was okay, though.  At the soup kitchen, seafood is rarely served.  Once they had shell fish and I though “Oh, boy!”  They put a half-scoop of shells on my plate, but the meat was missing.  Another Friday they served up “fish” but all I got was a scoop of bones, fins and scales; they must have had it set aside just for me.  I recently had a vision; a plate was handed to me and the food at the near end was jumping around as if alive.  I saw Jesus go into the kitchen and tell them, “you’re doing more harm than good.”  He also said, “The thing about meat is that it has to be kept frozen.”  One kind old woman put a half scoop of food on my plate and said, “We have to keep you people healthy…I don’t know why!”  Grace Be Unto You, a black church, served us sausages one night and I thought the one they served me from off the top looked dubious but I ate it and it made me very sick.  That was the church where they served me turkey neck bones for Thanksgiving and I have written about God’s judgment against them elsewhere.  Everybody always thinks he’s the first SOB to come along.

Early this morning, May 21, 2012, I awoke to a vision.  I saw Pikes Peak Ave, the small extension which runs up the hill between Antler’s Hilton and the Penrose Library and opens onto Cascade.  Particularly, I saw the ascending sidewalk next to the library as if from the Hilton parking garage.  I got the word of knowledge: (I’m) “not allowed to even walk along the outside of the building.”  So, if I must discontinue my blog and Twitter and such things, you will know the reason; I have no computer of my own.  We have been warned!

At CJC I was in the hole or maximum security, I can’t remember which, Jesus said, “The righteous will be given over, too; it won’t just be the wicked.”  I was attacked by a 211 (bk, or black killer) thug  in the ward who loudly demanded to know if I was in the KKK.  That was the rumor du jour but was a lie nonetheless.  I told him that people should look at the evidence and decide for themselves.  That infuriated him all the more and I saw what looked like a hole open up in the atmosphere behind him and he was pulled back into it before he could attack me.  Then I saw him being bounced around on an inmate’s knees.  Don’t ever think there aren’t angels in jail.  Everyone always thinks he’s the first SOB to come along, but we can do them worse than they can do us.

In a recent dream, I was walking along the street and suddenly I was surrounded by construction equipment which started dumping on me.  I asked the worker, “Don’t you have respect for anybody?” and he replied arrogantly, something about sweeping the streets.  I said, “Well, fuck you!”  We’ll see how that plays out.  Jesus said, “(He) can be every bit as nasty as you.”  When my parents and I were living at Palace and Imperial, there was a time during the routine harassment when they blocked off our apartment building and turned all our water brown.

Matt and Jim had a camp along Shooks Run.  Now that Matt has left town, Jim has moved in to pastor Doug Anderson’s Restoring Hope Church, the one that won’t let me darken their door.  They attended Jeff’s weekly Bible study at Pikes Perk.  Jim is a surly cuss who once was a top grocery manager at King Soopers store #53 where I also worked back in 1990.  I said a little prayer for Jim when he came to Jeff’s Bible study and Matt told me later he was very offended, cursing God.  Some people don’t seem to understand that church is for Christians; I think he came for the free coffee.  Matt always called me “the horned one” and Chris Twitch was “the excellent one”.  He often expressed an interest in my food stamps and their ability to buy food for him and his friends who spent prodigious amounts on alcohol and associated pastimes.  In fact, I just passed Jim at the ATM before coming here.  Matt hung around waiting for me until I told him I wasn’t going to 7-Eleven and then he suddenly had something else to do.  We talked about the Bible.  He was a homeless vet and wore camo, for old times sake, and a black beret that said, RECON.  He was sniper.  He was also a Phi Beta Kappa level student and a member of Mensa and worked as an engineer at Los Alamos but had some difficulty reading Scripture.  Maybe that was camoflage, too.  You meet the most interesting people on the street.  At the Mission one evening, he sat across from me and asked  if a bully ever beat me up and stole my lunch money and I said, “Not till you came along.”  He shrugged and said, “It’s my job.”

I drove my parents to a senior lunch at a community center in a quiet, residential neighborhood.  The building was located in a park.  They went in and I parked the car and waited for them.  Some activity behind me caught my attention so I put my thick glasses on and watched in the rear view mirror.  The impressive big, new, shiny, black pickup truck with black windows, which was parked across the street directly ahead, rolled away, which only goes to show that it’s not polite to stare.  I recently got this word in the spirit: If you’re spying on me, God will put your eyes out.

11 Then they struck the men who were at the door of the house, young and old, with blindness so that they could not find the door. (Gen 19 NIV)

23 May their eyes be darkened so they cannot see,
and their backs be bent forever.  (Psalm 69 NIV)

11 Now the hand of the Lord is against you. You are going to be blind for a time, not even able to see the light of the sun.  (Acts 13 NIV)

I was sitting downtown in Akacia Park and a skinny young dude strutted by in black Gothic attire and brightly colored Mohawk.  The Lord said, “Servants rule.”  If servants rule, what must rulers do?  I was praying at the World Prayer Center and there was a plastic ruler on the table.  I picked it up and Jesus said, “We believe there’s a ruler in our king.”   He said, “Your reign of fear will come to pass.”

10 So do not fear, for I am with you;
do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

11 “All who rage against you
will surely be ashamed and disgraced;
those who oppose you
will be as nothing and perish.
12 Though you search for your enemies,
you will not find them.
Those who wage war against you
will be as nothing at all.
13 For I am the Lord your God
who takes hold of your right hand
and says to you, Do not fear;
I will help you.
14 Do not be afraid, you worm Jacob,
little Israel, do not fear,
for I myself will help you,” declares the Lord,
your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel.
15 “See, I will make you into a threshing sledge,
new and sharp, with many teeth.
You will thresh the mountains and crush them,
and reduce the hills to chaff.
16 You will winnow them, the wind will pick them up,
and a gale will blow them away.
But you will rejoice in the Lord
and glory in the Holy One of Israel.