UNREPENTANT

Unrepentant and it feels so good

Unrepentant and it’s understood

I could ask forgiveness if I wanted it that way

But since I’m justified I can simply stay…

Unrepentant and it feels so fine

Unrepentant when I’m sipping on wine

I don’t need to change the way I behave

No matter what I do I know I’ll be saved

Unrepentant and my sky is blue

The Good Lord knows my heart is mostly true

I may wander sometimes off the beaten path

But each little mistake is good for a laugh

Unrepentant and while the stakes are high

I know that I’m in good hands when I finally die

All my sins are hidden from the Good Lord’s view

And Thank Goodness too…

Because I've still got a lot of sinning to do…

Unrepentant and it feels so grand

Unrepentant and I hope you understand

The more I sin the greater is God’s grace

It’s good to know my sinning not’s going to waste…

Unrepentant and it feels so good…

Many Masters

We have many masters
Their power comes from us
We can take that power away
If we promise not to use it
Ourselves

TWADDLETHEOLOGY

 Twaddletheology by S.M. Tubebacher. A lot of hot air has been escaping into the atmosphere but it has nothing to do with carbon dioxide emissions. The God Does Everything crowd is back up to its old antics making pretentious and grandiose but essentially meaningless statements at about a mile a minute. But in this little book, S.M. stops them in their tracks and simply asks, “Where were you when the world was made?” It’s a question they’re still trying to answer.

Nick Neercassel and the Case of the Ledge at the Edge of the Abyss

The radio in my 67 Mustang was acting weirdly. It was early October and it was playing Christmas songs:

"In his 12th book of Christmas/ Monty Zephyr said to us/ It's actually alright to cuss"

I immediately turned the radio off and then back on. I tried a different station. The results were the same:

"In his 11th book of Christmas/ Monty Zephyr said to us/ ...."

I turned the radio off again and this time left it off. What was going on? And where was I by the way? I was driving on a two lane paved road with high trees on either side. I had the top down and the weather was rather pleasant; sunny and bright and warm. Judging by the position of the sun, it was sometime around mid-day. Then it came back to me. The last thing I remember was hurtling through space toward the moon in a contraption that was little more than a glorified tin can. Now I was back on Earth driving down an unnamed highway.

I guess it's time to re-introduce myself. I'm Nick Neercassel, your friendly but currently befuddled and bewildered TPE (Theological Private Eye). I solve cases for the Lord but I usually know where I am and where I'm going. This time I didn't have the luxury of either.

Part II

Since there were no side roads as far as I could tell, I figured I only had two choices: either turn around and go back from where I came (wherever that was) or keep going straight ahead. Both destinations were a mystery. I decided to keep going straight ahead. Funny thing though, the gas gauge stayed on full no matter how many miles I traveled.

I know what you're thinking. Why doesn't Neercassel take out his celestial cell phone and call Third Heaven Central? Why doesn't he use his GPS (God Positioning System)? The answer is simple. Neither one was in my possession. And please don't ask what happened to them. I simply don't know.

Verging on a sense of desperation, I tried the car radio again. This time it wasn't a song by Monty Zephyr but Monty Zephyr himself:

"Hello, friends and lovers of the truth! This is Monty Zephyr coming at you from my studio at the Shagah Cafe in St. George, South Carolina. I've got some wonderful news for you loyal listeners. My latest book, 'Tarnished Treasures' which is actually my 12th book of Christmas, is now in book stores everywhere, and I mean everywhere! "

I quickly turned the radio off yet again. I seemed to be in the midst of a nightmare. Was I still in the dimensional plane of an Atonal Reality (AR) or had I passed over into another hupostasis?

Part III

I kept going straight. Nothing appeared to change. The trees remained high on either side and the sun didn't move in the sky. Tentatively, I turned the radio on yet one more time.

"Hello, fellow humans and those who are overly fond of verisimilitude. This is the Great Gabster, himself, W. Scott Fitztaylor, bringing you the radio show that has no peers and could only be made by yours truly: 'My Mind is Its Own Paradigm.'"

W. Scott Fitztaylor! We had met in an earlier Nick Neercassel adventure but then, if I remember correctly, he did all the talking. We all might as well be quiet and listen for a while.

"The last thing God wants to do is to control someone."

"Finite in mind, infinite in spirit."

"Bounded by the iron law of the nature of reality."

"I met Plato's perfect horse at a reception for formidable Bible scholars. Since he was perfect, it goes without saying he was polite and unassuming."

"Every story is a story about what might have been or what could have been or even...what was."

"We are on the horns of a polylemma."

"If we live in a pre-determined universe, where every action is absolutely necessary for every subsequent action, then everyone's life has meaning, whether or not they believe in God. On the other hand, if we live in a non-deterministic universe, where in effect each one of us is tossed out on a raging sea without a life preserver, then life can only have meaning if there is a God."

"But in a deterministic universe where God can manipulate every event ahead of time, why would he ever feel the need to portray himself as a liar?"

"Under the rules of reality, what are the ultimate limits of an individual being?"

"The concept that God has already planned the entire sweep of time, from the beginning to the end, is really just a way of justifying one's life."

"It stands to reason if God planned every future action from point Alpha to point Omega, he would have to include himself in the planning."

"After a while, at some point, belief becomes a matter of preference rather than a matter of proof."

Part IV

More strangeness. I had been traveling for what seemed like hours yet I was neither hungry nor thirsty. Nor was I tired or sleepy. I seemed to be existing in a state of minimal flux. The only thing moving was the car and it was going down a highway that apparently had no end.

Then it ended.

And the end was rather spectacular. The trees had disappeared and the car had quit moving. Two large creatures (each about fifty feet high) with humanoid features were facing each on a barren plain. Just beyond them the land just stopped or to put it more accurately, it just dropped. It was the Grand Canyon to the nth degree.

Both creatures were bloodied and beaten. Neither one appeared to have an advantage. I was too small and insignificant to be of any interest to them. I reveled in my insignificance. I thought about running but the sight was too mesmerizing and I watched in stunned amazement.

Out of  my deep subconscious a thought suddenly appeared: his enemy had never known defeat and to defeat his enemy he might have to be defeated himself.

He had a choice. We all do. Some of us pretend we don't. That way we don't have to take responsibility for the evil that we do.

And then they were falling, both of them together, grasping each other in a death grip, off the cliff, into the abyss.

My legs came back to life and I ran to the edge of the cliff to see what I could see and when I looked over I couldn't believe my eyes. Below me about thirty feet or so there was a ledge and on the ledge were a throng of living human beings.

Part V

The shame of it all there was nothing I could do. The wall of the cliff was sheer and then I remembered the car and ran back to it. I opened the trunk and lo and behold there was a long rope at least forty feet in length. I immediately drove to the edge of the cliff where I turned the car around and backed as close as I could to the edge. I then jumped out of the car and attached one end of the rope to the back bumper. After doing so, I threw the other end down to the people below. 

"I can bring you up one at a time!" I shouted down.

But no one grabbed the rope. They seemed resigned to their fate. I couldn't believe it.

"I can save you but you'll have to grab on to the rope and trust me as I pull you up."

Finally, one intrepid soul stepped up and put her hands firmly around the end of the rope. I put the car in drive and slowly drove forward.

Eventually everyone was saved.

THE END

Tommy Tubebacher and the Element of Time

It was just a matter of time. The experts knew that if you were at the bottom of the world and you wanted to build a building that reached the sky you would start at the top and go to the bottom. Along the way all the pieces would fit in perfect harmony and if you had the misfortune of going upward while construction was taking place you would often find yourself in the perilous position of being upside down in a world that was downside up.

Now when did time become an element that could be easily defined by an atomic number? Something that could be neatly compartmentalized and folded much like you would a large rug that you bought at a discount store and took home in the back of a family-friendly station wagon?

Well, it happened at the only time it could have happened: at the end of time. Because for time to unroll in a fairly symmetrical fashion, there could be no loose ends or random events loosely hanging around in a universe that was as old as,... well, as old as the universe. Thankfully, time was slightly tilted but the tilt was away from the end and toward the beginning so time had no choice but to go backward.

Now no one really understood this until the Earth year 2098 AD. That year Tommy Tubebacher of the state of Saskatchewan of the United States of North America turned 22 years old. Turning 22 is not that big a deal normally (the age of 21 usually generated more excitement) but in Tommy's case it finally dawned on him that he was going backward in time. He had been so busy getting on with the daily necessities of living he had never taken the time to notice that every year he got older the year it happened was actually the year before the last one but for some reason it occurred to him in the year 2098 it should be the year 2142. It hit him like a thunderbolt but he couldn't deny the reality of what was happening to him. He was now the contemporary of his parents and soon they would vanish from his on-going reality.

So Tommy knew his future but he didn't know his past. The future was set in reinforced concrete and could not be changed. The past on the other hand was open to various possibilities, extrapolations, and interpretations. The past was malleable and fluid. All Tommy had to do was ride the current of time and at some point he would reach the beginning of time. But the beginning would also be the end just as the end was the beginning.

THE END

Hey Jude

It's 56 A.D. and things are a'stirring in Jerusalem. The Foxhole News is reporting strange happenings in and around the Mediterranean. Prime Time (any time other than the Sabbath) is dominated by the new media darling, Ben O'David, who sets up his interview table every evening (except the Sabbath) about a block to the east of the Temple. It's called the O'David Reactor and the crowds are growing nightly. The night before some poor wretch who was trying to find an advantageous spot to hear what was going on fell 12 feet from an adjoining wall. He didn't survive the fall but that hasn't deterred another poor wretch from locating in the same spot. Let's hope the same fate doesn't befall him.

O'David's guest tonight is Jude, one of the new sect called Christians that are proliferating in Hellenized Judea. Jude has just written a rather short, fiery epistle that has the town buzzing. O'David, who simply claims that he's just "looking out for the folks", plans to grill Jude on what O'David calls "Jude's outlandish statements and shibboleths".

BO: Welcome to the Reactor, Mr. Jude.

JUDE: Thank you, Mr. O'David, and Shalom and all that.

BO: The Reactor staff did a little background check on you and found out your real name is Judas. Any particular reason you go by the name Jude instead?

JUDE: That's pretty obvious, isn't it? No Christian wants to be called a Judas.

BO: Good point. Now let's get straight to this latest publication of yours. It's only been out a week and it's already on the Damascus Times Best Seller List. I have to say I'm impressed. My latest book, 'Killing Caesar as Well as the Next Caesar as Well as the Next Caesar and So On' took at least two weeks to make the list.

JUDE: I'm very humbled by it all. And, of course, all the glory goes to God.

BO: You say you are humble but yet you don't mind taking a pretty large swipe at the folks. You call them irreverent and wanton. You accuse them of prostitution and lying and defiling the flesh. Pretty harsh words, wouldn't you say Mr. Jude?

A loud boo went out among the crowd.

JUDE: I call 'em like I see 'em.

BO: Hey, that's my line.

JUDE: I thought you might appreciate it. Look here, BO, I don't have time to be a wallflower. This nation, this group of people, is flirting with disaster. Somebody has to call a spade a spade.

BO: How about that fellow - what's his name? Saul or Paul or something like that.

JUDE: He's an OK guy. But he's teaching a slightly different message.

BO: Oh, you mean the Gentiles.

JUDE: That's right. They don't have a lot going for them. We Jews have the oracles of God, etc. and God just expects a little bit  more out of us.

Another loud boo went out from the crowd.

BO: Hey, Jude! I don't think you're playing too well with the folks.

JUDE: Do I seek to please God or men?

BO: That's rhetorical, right?

JUDE: I'm not a politician. I'm a prophet. I speak truth not rhetoric. But you know what, BO, these people are my friends, my relatives, and my countrymen. If I don't try to get them to repent and change their evil ways, who will?

BO: What are you predicting?

JUDE: I got this funny feeling these knuckleheads will keep on going the wrong way. Who knows, in fifteen years or so, the Romans might just bring the whole thing down.

The loudest boo yet went up from the throng.

BO: You're one tough little unleavened cookie. I'll have to hand you that.

JUDE: Thanks, BO. I'm just looking out for the folks.

BO: That's it for the Reactor, folks. See you tomorrow night.

THE END

Mabel and the Highway That Never Ends

Montgomery Zephyr was in a funk. He was on the wrong side of fifty and as he sat on a stool in Jerry's Place in the small town of St. George, South Carolina he wondered if his depression was of the more permanent sort.

"What'll you have, honey?"

Montgomery, whose elbows were on the counter and whose head was buried in his hands, slowly looked up. What he saw surprised him.

"Call me Monty."

"Call me Mabel. Now what you'll have?"

"A turkey club and decaf."

Mabel poured Monty a cup of coffee. "What brings you to our little oasis?"

"I'm a writer in search of a plot."

"A bad case of writer's block? Well, honey, I sure don't know what you hope to find in St. George. We have trouble keeping the drain lines free and clear."

"Not that kind of a plot. I'm looking for a piece of ground where I can lay my weary bones once this earthly existence has concluded its human sojourn."

"But why of all places St. George?"

"It's close enough to the ocean that in a few thousand years or so, the ground where I'll be interred will merge with the more primal aspects of reality. I'll be one again with the cosmos."

Mabel looked skeptical but didn't say anything. Monty's order was ready and as she went to pick up the turkey club she tried to think of something that might cheer Monty up.

She placed the plate on the counter. "Have you heard of God in the Bubble?"

"Who hasn't?" Monty took a bite of the sandwich and washed it down with some coffee. "But what's that got to do with anything?"

"He's just down the street."

Monty's turkey club fell out of his hands and fell with a undignified plop to the plate below. 

"What's he doing here in St. George?"

"He's here for a chess tournament. You can find him at 1997 Kramer Avenue. Turn right when you go out the front door."

For the first time in years, Monty felt like life was worth living again. He gobbled down what remained of the turkey sandwich, finished off a second cup of coffee, left Mabel a big tip, then went running out the door. Mabel shouted after him. "And never forget Monty. You're traveling the highway that never ends!"

THE END

The UR Blues

Used to be my message was unique

I could count on regular donations every week

But now the whole world is getting the news

And now I got the Universal Reconciliation Blues

Yea, the worldwide media is making sure the word is spread

God’s going to save everyone, even the evil, nasty dead

Oh yea, the whole world is getting the news

And now I got the Universal Reconciliation Blues

Looks like I’ll need a new vocation

Maybe a sex therapist or night club singer

I love the ladies and I've got a good voice

I’m always ready to zap you with a good zinger

Used to be people would pay to hear me talk

Now it seems they prefer I go for a long, long walk

Oh yea, the whole world is getting the news

And now I got the Universal Reconciliation Blues

You’d think I’d be happy that everyone will be saved

But you must realize it cuts into my income streams

Cause people lose their sense of urgency and fears

When they have no nightmares only sweet dreams

Used to be I had quite a following of fans

They would listen even when they didn’t understand

But now the whole world is getting the news

And now I got the Universal Reconciliation Blues

An Insider's Look at the Big Three's Working Relationship

Excerpt from Nick Neercassel: The Novel

If you’re standing on a clear night in the Mojave Desert and you’re about a mile from any road or highway and you look up into the sky in the direction of the North Star, and if you imagine you could actually see another 3 million light years or so beyond the North Star, you might see another star; a large yellow one burning brightly. And you might see in the halo of that star the outlines of two figures that appear to be having a casual conversation:

“No luck, eh, in the XM11115987 Galaxy?”

“Nothing. Just like in the 17,234 galaxies I’ve searched previously.”

“Same here. You know I miss the old fellow. He was never actually there with us because he was everywhere but he was the kind of fellow that was always there when you needed him even when he wasn’t. If you know what I mean.”

“He could be funny when he wanted to be. I especially liked the times when he called himself THE ODD GOD OUT. He’d asked, 'Why am I always mentioned last? Why is it always the Boss, BJ, and The Ghost? Why couldn’t it sometimes be The Boss, The Ghost, and BJ or better yet The Ghost, the Boss and BJ?'”

“And then he’d sometimes complain that you got to sit at my right hand while he, always having to be everywhere, never had the chance to be just somewhere. But you know, he never let his gripes interfere with or negatively affect the quality of his work.”

“How true.”

“But let’s be serious for a moment. Our decision making process is in shambles. Contrary to some thinking we did not plan out everything billions of years ago; too much trouble and besides there’s no fun in that. Much more fun to make decisions on an as needed basis and for that we had devised (after billions of years of trying) a pretty darn good system. On any issue I would let you two vote first. If you two agreed we’d go ahead with that plan. If you two disagreed, I would cast the deciding vote. Simple? Yes, but highly effective. Now that we’re down to two, the decision making process is much tougher. I don’t like pulling rank but there may be times I’ll have to and it’ll be a miracle if our relationship isn’t strained in the process.”

“We need him back in the triangle to make this thing work like it should.”

“That means we keep looking.”

“Let’s meet again after diligently scouring at least 20,000 galaxies each. We need to pick up the pace. No more star gazing.”

THE END

Life Itself is an Ancient Ruin

The first snow fell with an unusual bitterness. The icy wind blew and icicles formed on the fall leaves and the leaves were mad because they had not had a chance to yet fall which should have been their destiny. Nature was rebelling and the winds cried out for vengeance.

Stan Marriott trudged through the snow wearing nothing heavier than a light windbreaker jacket. When he had left Chicago the day before (or was that two months ago? His memory rebelled at the effort for clarity.) the early September sun was shining and the temperature was in the seventies. Now he was in Michigan, only three hundred miles or so from Chicago, yet the weather was so stunningly different Stan was beginning to wonder if he had somehow slipped into an altered state of consciousness. It (slipping into an altered state of consciousness) had happened many times before but all the previous times had been under climate-controlled circumstances. Except for that one time in Haiti, but Stan, due to an agreement with the Haitian government, could not and would not divulge exactly what had happened under the hot Haitian tropical sun. All he ever told people was that voodoo was not a religion.

***

"Demetrius, bring me some more olives."

Demetrius obeyed his master with languor that bordered on decrepitude.

"What's the matter, Demetrius? You seemed to have lost that usual vibrant spring in your step."

"Nothing is wrong, Master. At least I don't think anything is wrong."

"Didn't you pass your recent physical with flying colors?"

"Yes, but Galea of the Delphi Sub-Oracle Station  looked at some entrails of a raven and said there was something missing in my life."

"Ahhh" was the Master's only reply.

***

The screen front door was flapping wildly in the wind as Stan approached the old farmhouse. He knocked on the solid wood door with what amounted to an almost fierce persistence. Finally, the door opened and Stan was peering (as best he could, it might be added, as his glasses were fraught with ice and snow) at the visage of Sony Allsurethinger, Chairman of the Board of the Aztec Publishing Concern.

"Hey there, Stan, what brings you here?"

"You invited me."

"I did?"

"Yes, you emailed me a couple of months back and ask if I'd be interested in being assistant editor for your quarterly magazine, 'Ancient Ruin'."

"Well, darn, I think I do have a slight memory of such a thing. What took you so long to get here?"

"My car broke down about fifty miles out of Chicago and I've been hitchhiking and walking ever since. I would have made it sooner but I feel asleep while catching a ride on a tractor-trailer and when I woke up I found myself in Denver."

"Well, be that as it may, it's good you here. Let me show you your office."

***

"Demetrius, bring me some more olives."

"Yes, Master. I'll be there almost instantly." Demetrius glided over to his Master. His buoyancy and joy of spirit were evident and palpable in his every movement.

"So Persephone is working out?"

"Yes, Master. And how!"

THE END

Tapp Dancing

Ohio did hold a few memories for me though. It was the scene of my first encounter with a Tappdancer. For theological neophytes in the reading audience, a Tappdancer believes that life is both absolute and relative. I don’t want to get too bogged down in details, but suffice to say the absolute/relative viewpoint is one that answers all your questions. If you don’t believe me, just ask a Tappdancer.

I suppose I should explain the derivation of the term Tappdancer. Tappdancers were followers of the late Alonzo Von Tapp, founder of the Aztec Publishing Concern located in Southern California. Von Tapp was the first and last man to translate the Greek New Testament into Aztec. When asked why he did such a thing, he replied, “If I don’t do it, who will?”

***

I had just crossed the Rockies when the cell phone went off.

“Is this Nick Neercassel, Thelological Private Eye?”

“Speaking.”

“Hey, Nick, don’t you recognize my voice? It’s your old buddy, Sony Allsurethinger.”

I don’t know about the old buddy part but I knew who it was. Sony was on the Board of Trustees at the Aztec Publishing Concern in Desert Country, California. We had crossed paths in 'THE CASE OF THE MARTIN LUTHER DOPPELGANGER'.

“What’s up, Sony?”

“We heard you were on your way to California.”

I wasn’t surprised he knew my whereabouts. The Tappdancers had a network of agents all across the continent.

“That’s true. Hollywood, to be exact.”

“How about stopping off at the Concern first? We have some information that might be germane to your case.”

Sony hung up.

Ok, a slight change in plans. So what. The investigation business is one of twists and turns. Oftentimes you just had to go with the flow. Something smelled like Denmark though and I was thinking hard, real hard, about this latest turn of events. What did the Tappdancers know and how did they know it? I thought they were friends with the Shagahs but Sony’s tone hinted at betrayal. Was Mr. Shagah up to no good? And was it no good in an absolute sense or a relative sense? One thing was certain. It wasn’t in a common sense.

I spent the whole night and the next day driving and arrived at the Concern at 5 pm. As I drove through the gate of the Concern, there was a rundown feeling to the buildings that had not been perceptible in my earlier visits. I actually saw a coyote running through the strand of cottonwood trees in the eastern section of the compound and as the sun set over an ocean that I could not see, only visualize in the broadest of terms, I realized with a touch of melancholy, that I had traversed a continent, yet was no closer to my real destination.

Sony welcomed me at the door and led me to the Board Room where in the Absolute Chair sat D.G. Leary and in the Relative Chair sat Stephen Tyler (not the one from Aerosmith and American Idol). Sony asked me to sit at one end of the table while he sat at the other end in careful balance between the Absolute and the Relative.

Sony spoke, “Thanks, Nick, we really appreciate you stopping by.”

“How did you know I was in the neighborhood?”

“Lance Straightpoint told us.”

I was a little taken aback. “Straightpoint is working for you?” Lance Straightpoint had been one of the most celebrated TPEs in the business before losing his license as well as his religion in 'THE CASE OF THE ANCIENT ROCK STARS.'

 “He was freelancing, so to speak. Get it? Ha Ha” No one laughed harder at his own jokes than Sony.

I hadn’t slept in 36 hours so it was rather hard for me to be amused. “Alright, why don’t you get straight to the point? Ha Ha.” My laughter was sardonic in nature as well as sarcastic.

“I hear you, Nick. We here at the Concern are concerned. We believe the Shagahs are in cahoots with the Polygamists to take over the Concern.”

Now I had to really laugh. “What the heck are you talking about? Why would the Shagahs, who are on the verge of a big Hollywood deal, want this rundown place?”

Stephen Tyler (who was not from Aerosmith or American Idol) spoke up: “You’re looking at this place from the relative viewpoint…” and Leary jumped in, “But you should be looking at it from the absolute perspective.”

“Which is?”

Sony then replied, “We’ve got gas.”

“We’ve all got gas,” I replied, “but what’s that got to do with this case?”

“No, not that kind; it’s the natural kind that’s found underground. The Concern is sitting on a fortune.”

A TPE is tempted by many things but money is not one of them. However, since this supposedly had something to do with the Shagahs I felt I had to listen to what the Tappdancers had to say.

“But Mr. Shagah is right now in Hollywood on the verge of making a Hollywood deal worth millions.” I said.

Sony replied, “That’s all a ruse. Actually, he’s holed up in the law offices of the Clampett Brothers in Beverly Hills, deviously devising plans to legally declare us mentally incompetent.”

May not be that big a stretch; a thought I thought but did not vocalize.

“I guess Straightpoint told you all this.”

“Yes, he’s posing as a paralegal in the law firm. They liked the fact that he was born in the Ozarks.”

“Does Lance know how they plan to proceed against you?”

“They plan to call us Idle Babblers and say ever since Mr. Von Tapp died we’ve allowed the place to deteriorate.”

“But that’s true, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes, but if we can hang on long enough to reap the natural gas profits, we’ll be able to renovate the place. Old Man Von Tapp would be pleased. If he was still alive, of course.” ( Lance told me later that the Concern’s new found wealth also meant opening a new branch in Oahu.)

“But you also mentioned that the Polygamists were involved in all this. How so?”

“They’re bankrolling the Shagahs.”

“Why in the world would they do that?”

“Because the Shagahs really own Shegah and because Shegah produces runaways, and because the Polygamists are naturally interested in increasing female supply, they saw an opportunity and they seized it by cutting a deal with the Shagahs. It’s really very simple. The Shagahs produce Runaway Shegahs and the Polygamists make a home for them.”

“Both Regular and Predestined?”

“Of course.”

“Where are these Polygamists located?”

“Somewhere in the Alleghenies.”

I stood up. It was time to go but this time I was headed east.

“Where are you going?” cried out Sony, “We need your help!”

“Sorry, Tappdancers, I’m already on assignment. Lance, though world weary, a little seedy and currently a non-licensed TPE , is still a good investigator. You can count on him.”

And with that, I was out the door, and back in the Flying Belt.

THE END

WRONGNESS

I refuse to be vindicated

I prefer to be wrong
Not everyone can be wrong
It takes a special talent
An unusual hardheadedness
Yes,
I prefer what's right
To stay to the left of me
So I can glory
In my wrongness
It's my little world
I cling to it
With desperation

That Which You Hide

Those who search for meaning

In a faraway place
Have no hope of going home
But where is home?

Some have forsaken
The essence of home
And wish to find solitude
Among the celestials

It's a voice
I like to hear
That gives me no direction
No hope
And no warmth
But sound and inflection
Can be comforting
When we have
Our ears to the ground

I wonder about
The ability of humankind
To resurrect itself
From the ashes
But all is in accordance
With past thoughts
Past deeds
And present needs
We'll understand someday
That then is now

That which you hide
That which you obscure
You do it for reasons
You keep wisely to yourself
Travelling thus
Rotating gently
Revolving prosaically
Millions of years
Pass by
And then...Nothing

What does
God do for you?
Relate to others
In words that you can understand

Reckless Behavior

Does a dog

Bark at nothing?
Is there a reason
To shout?
Outside our little corner
Of the universe-
Is anyone listening?

Our fate is certain
To think otherwise
Is to fool ourselves
We're ants
In the cosmic scene
Not dogs of war

Numbers go on
Without end
Moving restlessly
In search of a destination
But when finding it
Not stopping

Is there a point
To this reckless behavior?
If there is,
I'm not seeing it

A Nick Neercassel Niblet: Positive Uncertainty

An Angel of the Lord appeared underneath an oak tree not far from the path I was trodding. He begged my pardon and wondered if I could give him a few minutes of my time. Sure, I said, I'm only walking aimlessly on a sunny day with nowhere particular to go and nothing particular to do.

"Nick, I have an assignment for you." The voice seem to come from a waterfall. Loud but refreshing.

"Yes, Angel of the Lord. I am at your service."

"We want you to investigate a new phenomenon."

"How long has it been around?"

"Over sixty years." I've never gotten use to what the concept of new means to an Angel of the Lord. If something had occurred in the last 50 million years, it was probably classified as new by the Angelic Corps.

"What is it?"

"It's a way of thinking called Positive Uncertainty."

I had never heard of it or had I? Either way, I felt good about it.

"That's it."

"That's what?"

"You just experienced Positive Uncertainty."

"How do you know?"

The Angel pulled out of his coat pocket a small electronic device.

"This is a PUM - Positive Uncertainty Meter. It started humming (I was to discover later as my investigation deepened that it was known as a PUM HUM) so I knew you were experiencing Positive Uncertainty."

"But why was I?"

"That's what we want you to find out. Apparently, even the mention of the two words have the ability to deliver the experience."

"Where did Positive Uncertainty originate?"

"It was a marriage of minds, so to speak. Greta Heisenberg, the daughter of Werner Heisenberg, founder of the Uncertainty Principle in Physics, married Norman Vincent Peale, Jr, namesake son of the founder of Positive Thinking. They wanted to create something together that would honor both their fathers. The Power of Positive Uncertainty was the result."

"But can you tell me in a nutshell what Positive Uncertainty is?"

"No, but we expect a full report from you in 90 days. That's when I return to Earth."

The Angel disappeared. I scratched my head and resumed my walk. I had no idea if I would solve the mystery of Positive Uncertainty but for some reason I did feel good about not knowing.

THE END

CROSSING BOUNDARIES

We spend our lives crossing boundaries. Very few shrink from such activity. It seems right somehow that we're always moving in some direction or the other. Aren't atoms and molecules, though invisible to the human eye, doing the same? They constitute our inner soul and even if we decide one day there are no more boundaries to cross, our molecules may not agree.

Apparent Dichotomy

I have a hunch that God is so great he can empty himself without becoming empty, i.e., he can be a Man on Earth while still being God of the Universe. Thus the apparent dichotomy.

SHAGAHRITAVILLE

Sippin on red wine
Havin a good time
Just waiting for my second bowl of grits
Niblin on goat cheese
Feelin the warm breeze
All of the churches are just hypocrites

Wastin away again in Shagahritaville
Searchin for my last shaker of grace
Some people claim that God is to blame
But I know, I've got egg on my face

I know all the reasons
Why God made the seasons
How he likes to play with a stacked deck
And you know I believe
He has a card up his sleeve
In case someone gets a stiff neck

Wastin away again in Shagahritaville
Searchin for my last shaker of grace
Some people claim that God is to blame
But I know, I've got egg on my face

I jumped out a jet plane
When it flew over New Spain
And landed on a place called Polygamy Beach
Where the women are fine
Now I'm sippin white wine
And wonderin if heaven is now out of reach

Wastin away again in Shagahritaville
Searchin for my last shaker of grace
Some people claim that God is to blame
But I know, I've got egg on my face

That Goal Time Religion!

The game is now over. It’s midnight and I’ve been sitting for the past six hours in a dark and dank college bar on the edge of the campus. In that time I’ve had about ten Old Milwaukees (Shagah Lite won’t be on the market for 52 years). Since OM is nothing more than slightly alcoholic colored water I am totally sober. I needed to be so I could digest what I had seen and heard in the afternoon. It’s a good thing I couldn’t call the Third Heaven or a fellow TPE. No would have believed me. They would have thought I was drunk. And they may have been right. I wonder. Did the Aggie bartender spike the OM?

In an effort to remain coherent, I am going to simply list what I learned. Since, as far as I know, I am the only person from 2011 now living in 1959 (well, in this particular and peculiar 1959) I have no witnesses that I can ask to corroborate these assertions. Either simply believe me or simply don’t. I would wash my hands of it if I could but there’s no soap in the bathroom.

Here in no particular order is the game of ‘College Football’ as it was played on June 12, 1959 in College Station, Texas:

1. Entrance to the game is free because a collection plate is passed around at halftime.

2. Also, at halftime, a band plays and a chorus sings ‘A Mighty Fortress is Our Football’ while little bits of beef brisket and tiny cups of Shiner beer are passed around to all the players, coaches, school officials, game officials, press members, students and spectators.

3. When a player is headed for a touchdown, he is said to be ‘Glory Bound’.

4. The coach of the Aggies is named Herbert W. Armstrong. The QB is his son, Garner Ted.

5. The games are played on Saturday because, according to Armstrong, if there was a God, he would have wanted them to play on that day because it was God’s Play Day.

6. Penalties, such as off sides or holding, are called sins. If a player commits a sin, he has to ask forgiveness from the game official who called the sin. The game official subjectively decides whether or not to forgive the sin. If he does not, the team with the sinner has to pay a tithe (ten yard penalty).

7. Football is played year round. All other sports are banned. The young man did turn me in and I was accused of blasphemy and threatened with excommunication. When they found out I just passing through they let me go with a warning.

8. A huddle is called a Prayer Circle.

9. What I know as a ‘Hail Mary’ pass they call a ‘Hail Darwin.’

10. Madeline O’Hare is the Commissioner of the Texas Football Synod.

11. ‘Getting to the Promised Land’ means going to the Cotton Bowl on New Year’s Day.

12. An ‘Altar Call’ is when fans storm the field once the game is over.

I could go on but I think you get the drift.

THE END

A Cautionary Tail

WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN

Zendo was an unusual dog. He could not only wag his tail sideways but he could also wag it up and down. Over the years his master had used Zendo's tail as a sounding board (sideways meant no while up and down meant yes) when a big decision needed to be made. Such a time was now but before Zendo wags his tail let's go back a ways and see what has brought us to this point.

Zendo's master had worked for a branch of the Federal government for almost nine years. It wasn't a very rewarding job but it was a safe and secure one with benefits and if he could make it twenty years he would have a pension that would mean a steady income for the rest of his life. Since Zendo's master also had a wife and three kids, he knew it was incumbent upon him to keep the job no matter the inner leanings of his heart. But yet, something was calling him to throw it all away. A few years before, on a whim, he had started publishing a newsletter. This newsletter  was sort of religious but not religious in the way most of us think as religious. It was highly irreverent, written with humor and insight, and included winsome illustrations by the author himself. In honor of his faithful companion, he had entitled the newsletter 'A Cautionary Tail.'

Now the newsletter had reached a 500 strong subscriber list and Zendo's master had begun thinking to himself: if every subscriber averages $100 in donations per year that would mean $50,000 in income! Of course, the fact that most of the subscribers sent in no money at all did not seem to register in Zendo's master's brain. He just knew somehow that if he quit his job and threw himself wholeheartedly into the newsletter, big, big things would happen. Heck, the subscriber list would probably then grow into the thousands and there would be plenty of money to take care of the wife and kids. They could travel all over the United States where he could give uplifting, insightful, and inspirational talks to his legion of loyal subscribers. And the kids would be well taken care of; their education opportunities unlimited. Yes, they would be one big happy family. 

Such a wonderful idea. Then Zendo's master opened his eyes and received a positive heavenly communication. He didn't think so at the time but now we know better.

Zendo was wagging his tail sideways.

THE END

Double Oh! Heaven

As it turned out, the lady on the phone was Mrs. Shagah herself. She had no clue on the whereabouts of Myrtle but she did tell me where Mr. Shagah was currently located. He was in Hollywood meeting with some producers who wanted him to star in a series of movies about a secret agent who worked directly for God. She even showed me part of the correspondence that outlined the proposed projects:

'LICENSE TO SIN' Thrill to the exploits of Agent Oh! Oh! Heaven as he battles the forces of Relative Evil with deprecating (both self and otherwise) humor, biting wit, and confirmational bias. But it won’t be easy as his foe, Churches R Us, doesn’t plan to go down without a fight.

'NEVER SAY FOREVER AGAIN' Double Oh! Heaven travels back in time to early 17th century England where he manages to infiltrate His Majesty’s Secret Translation Service. An argument ensues, and Double Oh! shouts at the scholars ‘You’re just not outspoken enough!’ Double Oh! had been insisting the word eonian should replace the word forever in the upcoming Bible they were translating but the scholars were sure heads would roll if that happened because King James preferred the word forever. Later, in the story, Double Oh! meets Will Shakespeare and comments how he likes the way Will uses fate in his plays.

'DIAMONDS ARE EONIAN' In this terse, tense, and taut tertiary thriller Double Oh! Heaven is on a mission to prove that diamonds are not forever but no one is buying it. Even the scholars at the Aztec Publishing Concern are reluctant to agree with Double Oh!’s assertion. As one Tappdancer says, ‘Relatively speaking, diamonds are forever even if absolutely they are not.”

'LIVE AND LET DIE IN THE LAKE OF FIRE' In this other worldly spectacular Double Oh! Heaven visits the Lake of Fire and discovers that it’s not quite the way he thought it was. ‘Where’s the Fire?” he asks the False Prophet upon which the False Prophet replies, ‘Oh, we don’t light the fire until supper time.’

'TOMORROW HAS ALREADY HAPPENED' Is the future set in stone? Double Oh!’s latest assignment is to go there and find out. While there he meets and falls in love with a female spy and it turns out his next movie was to be “THE SPY WHO LOVED ME IN THE FUTURE” but it had to be canceled because when it was found out the future was set in stone tomorrow became yesterday and no movie named “THE SPY WHO LOVED ME IN THE FUTURE” had been scheduled to be made in the past.

“Wow. Do you think they might need a TPE to play a part? We work for God too.”

Mrs. Shagah raised an eyebrow and replied, “I’ll let Mr. Shagah’s agent know.” She then continued, “It’s a shame he had to go to Hollywood at this point in time because we were just on the verge of releasing a new product.”

“Oh, that so? What is it?”

“It’s called Shagah Plus. It’s Shagah for men with more than one wife.”

THE END

The Path of Higher Math

I'm thinking about two apparently antinomial verses, both utterances by Jesus in the Book of John. 1) "I and the Father are One" and 2) "The Father is Greater than I". The answer perhaps lies in the concept of an x/y coordinate grid, i.e. vertical/horizontal; this grid goes out in all directions. The grid is God but the only visible part is where x meets y. Around two thousand years ago x met y on Earth in Jesus, the form of the visible God. When Jesus moved on earth (horizontal) He was representing God in His entirety ("are one"); when Jesus appealed to the Heavens (vertical) He was acknowledging His limitations as well as recognizing the vastness of the invisible part of the grid.