It Isn’t Camelot

Seastreak Ferries | Servicing New York, New Jersey, and Massachusetts

I went to Keyport yesterday to buy seafood. It was a beautiful clear day, with the sun low in the sky and shining on New York City across the bay. It made me think of a line from America the Beautiful: “Thine alabaster cities gleam…”

It looked magical, a shining city, not of this world. It looked like Camelot. Could you really go there, or was it just a vision?

But it was a mirage. You couldn’t see the crime, the corruption, the ruinous taxes, or the thousands of New Yorkers fleeing the bizarre comedy staged by Mayor Bill “DeBlasio” (not his real name) and Gov. Andrew “America was never that great” Cuomo. It was an illusion.

Like so much else in this era of a fallen world, it was only an illusion.

 

Now I’m Really Confused

These 11 Confused-Looking Cats Will Make You Smile

Somewhere there must be someone who can explain this.

For the second half of 2019 and the first half of 2020, this blog was really trucking. We were actually within reach of 12,000 views in a month. But then we had a major Internet outage at the end of June, and from then on, my viewership numbers just kept falling and falling.

Then, for no reason I’ve been able to detect, October finished strong and the first half of November has come on like gangbusters. Five days with over 400 views! Eighteen days in a row with 300 or better. What’s goin’ on here? I study the stats carefully: no indication that anything I’ve posted has gone viral.

But then again, it is 2020, the year the locusts have eaten to the ground, and my blog hasn’t been the only thing not working. At least it seems to have recovered!

Pray for our country to recover–and soon. Pray for the fear merchants to lose their hold on us.

Stuck on Wednesday

Image that portrays a writer who finds no inspiration to write Stock Photo  - Alamy

What to do, what to do?

It’s raining, so I can’t sit outside and write my book–and just about to stage the climax, too. And I don’t feel like writing about the phony election, but what else is there? I”m a day late in writing a Newswithviews column and I guess that’ll have to be about the election–college nooze is just the same-old same-old, white people are bad, white people deserve to be punished, higher education doing its thing.

Incredibly difficult trivia question: Name one institution that hasn’t been turned against us. That hasn’t sold out to Far Left Crazy. Go ahead, try–just one. Betcha can’t do it.

As an old reporter and term paper writer, I never suffer from writer’s block–could never afford to. Never had the time. I don’t have writer’s block now: I just hate the nooze that’s out there to cover. How about an extra hymn instead?

Emergency Norbert (with Prayer)

Some of us have not been feeling well lately (I name no names, because I haven’t been asked to, yet). Well, a minute or two with Norbert the therapy dog won’t hurt

Please join me in prayer for those of our number who need it now. O Lord our God, please bless our little circle of friends, especially those of us who need healing right now. This past week has been inordinately stressful for us all. We pray for Jesus’ healing touch, in Jesus’ name: Amen.

Two Birthdays! Patty and ‘Weavingword’

See the source image

Birthdays are important, and we shouldn’t stop celebrating them just because we aren’t children anymore.

Today it’s my wife, Patty, and our esteemed colleague, Allison, whom most of us know as ‘Weavingword’–these are the birthday girls today. Two on the same day. I wish we had a chorus line of quokkas.

Kindred spirits are a gift of God. Of course we celebrate their birthdays! I only wish we had more of them on the list.

If you’d like your birthday celebrated here, please just let us know.

 

Happy Birthday, Watchman!

Birthday Quokka" by lhowden | Redbubble

Holy Cow, we’re two days late for Watchman’s birthday! Most sincere apologies–it was that confounded election, big distraction: everyone here is mortified. We hate to forget the important things!

Byron the Birthday Quokka, all togged up in a hurry: belated birthday greetings, O Watchman!

*To all readers: If you’d like to see your birthday celebrated here (provided some gavone here remembers to look at the list!), just let us know when it is.

It’s not just a blog–it’s a fellowship.

What Do I Write on Election Day?

Hard, tiresome work,” says 1940s film on journalism | Allie's Re "Allie" ty  // Allie Hulcher

When I was a weekly newspaper editor and reporter, back when we still used manual typewriters, I worked hard, trying to scoop the dailies. It was very hard to do! Because if I had a story on Thursday or Friday, it couldn’t be published until the following Wednesday, when our paper (The Bayshore Independent: R.I.P.) came out. So the dailies had several days to catch up, and they almost always did.

I’m still writing weekly for Newswithviews, which comes out on a Thursday, So if I write something today, Tuesday, Election Day, it’ll be stale potatoes by Thursday. And with the election uppermost in everybody’s minds, including mine, why bother? I’ll just have to wait till tomorrow and try to hustle up a column in time for the next day. And by then a lot of the readers will have election fatigue.

So I wrote a nice chunk of Behold! this morning, now that I know where I have to be to stage the climax, half a dozen blog posts, and I’ll spend the rest of my workday typing up my manuscript for Chapter Set 5 (Set No. 6 ought to do it). And I’ll have to try real hard not to get overwhelmed by the news of the election.

I’m almost tempted not to follow the results tonight, because if we lose this one and the Evil Democrat Party wins, it’s adios to America. I’ve pretty much emptied my quiver, and there’s nothing left to do but pray.

Pray hard.

Prayer Request: Erlene

Please join in prayer for Erlene’s son, Eric–who went to a clinic, accepted the flu vaccination that they offered him… and now has the flu. Erlene herself declined the flu shot and doesn’t have the flu.

O Lord our God! Please be swift to help and heal our sister Erlene’s son, Eric, who now has the flu because he let them give him a flu shot. We call upon your mercy and your might: in Jesus’ name, and by the power of Jesus’ name: Amen.

Join Our Fellowship!

Finding True Christian Fellowship - Ecumenicon

Y’know something? No matter which way the election goes, we’re going to be in for some hair-raising times. And we will need Christian fellowship.

If the Democrats win, fasten your seat-belt: we’re headed for tribulation, worse than anything that’s ever been seen in America. But if we can succeed in re-electing President Trump, don’t expect the enemy to go away quietly. They’ll be coming after us with all they’ve got left.

For prayer, for encouragement, for exhortation, for friendship, for Bible study, for instruction, and even for fun–we can do those things here, don’t you think? Well, we’ve been doing them. All I’m sayin’ today is, there’s room for a lot more of you. And you don’t have to be an American to be with us. We love our respective countries, but we’re all citizens of a greater one–the Kingdom of Heaven.

We’d love to hear your comments, we’d love to hear your questions. We’d love to take your prayer and hymn requests.

This is a time when we have to hang together: the devil’s out there gunning for us.

How Peep Visited the Vet and Drove Me Crazy

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I think of our cat Peep as such a benign little soul. But that’s only till she has to see the vet.

She has a fearsome reputation there. Such a sweet, jolly cat–and she turns into the Tasmanian Devil on a bender.

But first you’ve got to get her there. She yowls and cries the whole way there, 20 solid minutes of it. The same thing, coming back: but by now she’s so upset, she throws up in her carrier. And I’m about ready to dive out of the car. There has to be a better way than this to spend the morning.

She wasn’t there for any painful or difficult procedure. Just a check-up, with some blood work. So why does she go positively crackers over any visit to the vet? Her sister, Robbie, is not much better. These cats just can’t stand a visit to the doctor.

What’s so horrible about it? I don’t get it. I mean, I know what’s so horrible about it for me, but why are the cats so fantastically upset?

I have to say that all the cats I’ve ever had were the same way. Only my rats and my iguana could face the doctor with equanimity. (I have always wanted to use that word.) Poor Buster practically declawed himself, trying to escape from the carrier.

Do veterinarians know how much cats hate and fear them?

It just doesn’t seem fair.