Friday, August 14, 2015

Huge Explosion in China! "LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!!!!!!"

                   
                                Here's the Video I found  that says it best.

                                                                "LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!!!!!!"

                          a MILE AWAY, LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!

                          Dearest Jesus and your father, I beg you to grant peace to all affected and killed by this. Please forgive their sins before you as they died simply working for a living.

                         I cannot imagine the horror of going to work and having it violently go berzerk and exploding, Sending concussive blast waves that decimate windows a mile and a half away.

                         My brothers and sisters: Think of the homeless created by this. They living in company dormitories that no longer exist as the blasts leveled them flat like a pancake.

                       Think of life living under the suns heat without shelter. No longer having mere sink faucet to grant you water to satisfy thirst.  Dehydrating, your children suffering, their eyes going flat and lifeless.

                Why is it when I say such to Americans things like this, they so simply quip: Well, they made bad life choices....

                       And then I ask them if they attend a church, most responding: Every sunday.

                          Imagine a life out in the cold.

                         Well,  during the summer months, few think about those challenges...

                         MWD

                         


Thursday, August 13, 2015

Going forward in reverse! Re-edited for the fun of it....




                                         

                     Brooklyn Messenger: Into a new decade!
                        Version -17, 2 cyber Addishun, 1966.
                                   Oct. 2, 2012 send date.

 

                       Our late October Clam was a HUGE success!

 

          An amazing turn-out came forth to enjoy BMUMC first annual Clambake! Many showed to display financial support for our beloved community in Christ on such a chilly November afternoon! Cold as it was, hearts grew most warm when the massive pressure cooker blew to smithereens!

           So blessed were we that several of our flock were paramedics and quickly treated those that encountered second degree steam burns and massive shrapnel intrusions .  So quick did they respond after guzzling so many  of our "Serving Those for the Benefit of Others' free Bud Lites the average person would have  faltered, fainted or just freaked out. Not these men and women, no sireeeee! They gave prayer, most giving praise to our Lord chorally stating:" Holy Shit!" Frantically Dialing 911 with the cells requesting aide,  though sometimes nailing 411 instead,  being greeted with calm female voice: "How can I direct your call?" 


              

                    Many further away from this unfortunate event were happy to receive a baptism of corn kernels and clam hunks that descended from Gods blue skies above them

            “Baptism by falling corn! How utterly unique!” said Abner Jockhead, smile beaming from him as he wiped corn from his loving children’s crying heads. 


            A slender brunette lady wearing a slinky royal blue dress, lacking underwear lines, vastly 'Coked-Up', ventured her thoughts: "This is sooooo cool! I've caught popcorn tossed at me with open mouth, but clams?!?! Never in my life! God be blessed most high!!!! Clams from Heaven! Tastes like Crab though"

           “Wow, can’t say I’ve seen this before!” an unidentified bleach blond wearing the devils short-shorts said enthusiastically. "Anyone know when the 22 bus crosses Archwood and West 25?"

            So many gave loud rejoicing to our lord Jesus, powering us with glorious words of praise, several asking for Jesus to save them: “Jesus Christ!” “Oh my F76k*&G GOD!” “Dear Lord, save us all!”

         One plainly dressed brunette female, who looked Amish, firmly asked for our lord to take her moodiness away from her: “CAN SOMEONE PLEASE REMOVE THIS CRAB CLAW FROM MY EAR?”

         Interesting further still were the amount of Baptists (undoubtedly Holy rollers) that shared with us this fine day. They began frantically rolling around on the ground, telling all how they felt their hearts engulfed with fire of Jesus. “JESUS, GOD ALMIGHTY, I’M ON FIRE!” “I am BURNING, Lord!” God in heaven, rescue us!”

          Some of the Baptists even experienced the freakish phenomenon of spontaneous human confusion! Thank goodness a few stout parishioners had blankets in their trunks to put out their flames!!!

 

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          Soon after the god-filled members of Clevelands EMS units swept those praising God away, we sat and ate a hearty and wondrous meal of exquisite Alaskan clams, Cambodian chicken, Paraguay corn and many a great side dishes prepared by our very own Chapter of the Blue Haired Ladies Guild!

   More than one in attendance graciously remarked how the clams tasted like crab and the corn had the flavor of refried beans. A few of our Chinese congregation spoke of how chicken had the distinctive and surely imported texture of boiled dogs.


              Our Minister shared with us.

"My children, as bread is broken, as we sip, and I must add, the finest of the David Brainless Lounge’s well stocked bar, and at .75 cents a glass a true bargain, not to mention a new craft draft beer from The Cleveland Sewage Companies fine line of ales and lagers, we are sharing divine inspiration at its sublime peaks at a reasonable price! Far gone are the days when we scurried about aimlessly like tiny microbes in search of grandiose parking lot ventures with an evil desire for further real estate!”

Pausing briefly, taking in a generous swig from his tall glass of Cleveland Sewage Companies East Ohio Gas Explosion 1944 IPA, he proudly went on to say how we, Brooklyn Memorial United Methodist Church, have come a long way and will reach greater heights in the coming years. He spoke of the immense generosity of CSC Brewing Co and how they donated kegs for our event. As he exited our grand outdoor pulpit, unquestionably from poor construction, he lost balance and fell to ground where he soon fell asleep. Snoring loudly to the lord, perhaps having sleep apnia, he rested tranquilly on the weed infested tarmac.

Freddie (Alkie) Peters quickly swaggered up to Pastor Ivan and covered him lovingly with a somewhat tattered and vomit smelling Cleveland Browns quilt. “Yes sirrie Bob, he’s out the like the Cavaliers hitting a par-five with a slapshot!. He’s snoring now!”  Such sublime eloquence,  Freddie. Thanks for sharing!

After eating, we had a contest! Courtesy of Long Johns Putt and Stuff, we had a small driving range set up for those that wished to try their hand at golf! Aimed directly at Wishmiers Funeral home, the winner was Ed Marzecian, slicing hard right and missing the netting completely. He took  out of four of their v windows! The prize was a coupon for 15 dollars for our own Methodish restaurant.

Truly, at five dollars a plate, a great time was had by all!
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                                      Accepting Gays all the way!


We dancing to the Rainbow, ho ho ho dont'ya know????

Taking a very  long time for our church to accept Hispanics, Negros, Croatians, Polish and Negros into our fold, we now accept Gay people!

Their turn out has been great and highly profitable for our church! Not only can they sing triumphantly, make great interior decorators, they are amazing cooks and generally contribute 20% of their income!

Truly a win-win on this! Praise god!
    From the Pastors rain damaged desk and beer soaked mind:

My flock, we took a hit on the Clambake. Due a clerical error we purchased King Crab instead of clams and spent a great deal more than we received. We so grossly undercharged patrons of this event we lost approximately 5 thousand dollars.

We have to be far clearer in our thinking as we open our hearts and souls to propel our church into the decade that began two years ago.

Hindsight being twenty-twenty, what will we think last week three months ago?

I am sure we can do much better!

Pastor Ivan Chanowitz.
             Our church is being attacked!

Help us fight the insurgents of evil as our church is facing lawsuits on many fronts!

Like Germany in World War II, Cuba’s Bay of Pigs or the Sherman’s March to the Sea, there’s always going to be collateral damage with any history making event.

Though we religiously sympathize with the burn victims and many a broken window from our First Annual Clambake, we surely cannot be held responsible for what can only be called ‘gods will.’

We are currently seeking Christian lawyers to help us stop these ferocious firings across our bow.
  In closing this electronic entry.

As we face yet another great month, we must realize our importance in Christ as we
  >>>>due to space limitations and bandwidth issues we must add this<<<<

Methodish Restaurant now offers the best of Kosher cuisine!

Our menu now sports Grilled Salmon, Salmon Cakes and Gelfilte Fish Sandwiches sure to please the pallets of the Jews. We also have the tastiest Mothaball (I have never heard of matzah balls before and have difficulty in spelling it. I must think I was given a poor spelling. After all, what food has moths and balls in it?) soup you have ever experienced. So rich in flavor, heart-attackingly drenched in salt with the purest of ducks blood added to it, we think we nailed this multi-cultural favorite down cold yet served hot!

Ever heard of a Kosher BLT? Well, we have it! Succulent Indonesian grown Lettuce married with the finest of Ukrainian Tomatoes pulled together by the fabulous Bologna of Greenland! All ingredients piled high and nestled between to best smoked wood-added bread Taiwan has to offer!

Grape Kool-Aid added to our extensive beverage menu! This classic drink, loved by grandparents, parents and kiddies alike, now served here! Please pray as you drink it in memory of the Jonestown incident.

Did I mention the Cajun Greens as a side dishes?

We’ve also found a place lacking on our breakfast menu: Authentic Southern Grits! An incredibly tasty dish created by toothless immigrants that don't speak InGrish.

We’re quite sure this new addition to our menu will bring many smiles, and dare we say, the heartiest belches we have ever witnessed!

At Methodish, we believe the bottom-line is more bread for less bread!

>>>>>>>>>>>…................................................................................<<<<<<<<<<<<
  For the Community Around us.

Believing our mission is take those needing help into our realm, we are proud to announce that we’ve employed those around us! In the last month we have hired no less than 6 children of God! Taking in the homeless, purchasing soul-filled discarded WWII cots for them to rest on for a good nights sleep. Placing them in the vacant area adjacent to boiler room for comforting heat and a profound sense of communal joining, we felt it most necessary to give them the best we can meagerly offer.

And at 100 bucks a month, how can we go wrong, my brethren? Sure, some may say we are cheap in payment for services rendered, yet know this brothers and sisters: It’s not like they aren’t getting Welfare, SSI or Disabled Veterans pay. We are giving them the chance to feel useful once again. A chance to feel needed.

We’ve placed two of them in the service of Methodish, and in my opinion and highly paid beliefs, a mighty place to meet Jesus halfway.

In fact, it was William Mark Daruskinheim that said it best when he was sent to cook for us: “I gives drugged self to Jimmy Jones and bak’ries of grape muffins! Thunks, Methadone church takin’ muh in wit my scabby arms ’n falling hairs. Beings a half Nigra, half Asian, half Holstein and two thurdz Whiteness guy, I hopes a’gin! Can I cook Jew food? I’s can bbq’d salmon b’ter than a’nee mofo! Swears, Allah, Fiat be reincarnated, I can does m’bestest. Cants waits fuh ya at tries my grape Kool-Aid! It’s duh bomb!”

So enormously graced to have one of such enthusiasm under our dome, we can only be granted the highest endowments of our Lord.

>>>another word, this time from a patent holder<<<

From the !!! Company, BFE Ohio. Your fine page grants me such splendid royalties from your complete usage of exclamation points that you are putting my children through not only MIT but Harvard as well! Thank you!

>>>>>>>>>>……............................>>>>>>>>>>>>>>



                                         

Heidi’s Brother: Mark William Darus 1002032012

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  Authors Note: this is a SATIRE of the church mailings I grew up with. Of the many that read P:SA from many Countries, I ask you do not take offense to this. It was written for the sake of humor.

Granted, where the USA is concerned, you should take some offense as we, pardon the pun, farm out most things to other countries and sell our own people short.

It was my pleasure to write this.

I dedicate this to you, Holly, Heidi and David H. <perhaps I should send this Wayne S? lol> 

Friday, July 31, 2015

A Child Dead Lost Like Tears in the Rain. Baptism Given by Jesus...

                                         

                                          A Child  Lost Like Tears in the Rain,
                                                                         by
                                                       Mark William Darus.

             
                        Decomposing Toddler Found in Apartment.
                       
                        I am so disgusted and angry by this I don't know how to begin writing about it.

                        I heard about this while driving to work listening WTAM on the radio. I was swigging my Dark Roast coffee from Speedway, puffing an L&M Turkish Blend 100, happy this was my last day of work this week. I have Friday off as I need to go downtown to get a copy of divorce decree to get a marriage license as well as have my Trailblazers front end get a serious mechanical overhaul.

                       A commercial about Home Windows,  with an enthusiastic female singer, trailed off...

                       "A toddler was found dead in a crib in Medina today! It is believed this child had been dead for some time due to the state of decomposition..."

                               I screamed aloud, put my right fist into roof of my SUV, "NOOOOOOO!!!!" This at the intersection of Bagley and Pearl rd, on a sunny afternoon, my eyes seeing kids running into the McDonalds for Happy Meals with parents in tow.

                             I heard another crying, sobbing louder than I had ever heard before. I looked to the direction.

                             I saw a blond haired lady with dark aviator sunglasses. She looked so disturbed and messed up. She was trying to wipe away her tears without taking her shades off.  I'm quite certain many would video this for a You Tube entry, but not me.

                           "You Okay? " such a stupid question to toss to another while watching them hurting. I so sometimes believe myself idiotic and dense.

                           "I-Iiiiiiiiiiiiiii, rayyyyyyyyy-D-OH st-st-st-st0ry of dddddead kid."  she struggled while trying quench tears with a handkerchief, her delicate hands clearly trembling about her face.

                             Red light went to Green.... no one honked. Odd....

                           "I heard as well just now. I am hurt by news like this. Do you believe in Jesus?"
                     
                           "YYYYYESSSSS" shades off, her eyes meeting mine.

                            "Let's pray as we go about our day for this child, okay?"

                              She went her way as i went mine.

                               I think of the past. Songs about people cut down, slaughtered and anthems created to have a nation rise.
                                   4 Dead in Ohio


                    Yet so many children are slaughtered each and every year in my nation while no songs are made for them. No monuments raised in their honor as they never had a chance to live after being born.  Their tiny bodies in various states of decomposition, perhaps being gnawed on by animals, after being discharged by yet another pedophile.

                                   Let me make one point most clear here.

                    No, I am not talking about Abortion!  I have my beliefs on this and am willing to share that with anyone strong enough to listen to me.

                     I'm talking about babies born into seriously horrific places.

                     Movie Quote: The Breakfast Club: Judd Nelson, his character abused with cigarette burns via his father, says,  (and I will mess up this quote,  but here goes: "You have to pass a test to get a drivers license, but they'll let any swinging dick become a father..."


                     These so innocent  Babes created into peace and beauty,  later to be   tossed into so many filthy and foreboding elements after being discharged from clean and friendly environments of a hospital. From smiling  Nurses/Aides , loving their job, greeting,  cooing over their so fragile, tiny frames from  feeding them to administering Light to thwart of jaundice.  These Nurse/Angels giving them an incredible best start from sincere heart and dedicated belief of professionalism,

                      These  Incredible men and women, Nurses/Aides and House Keeping personnel with their smiles/prauers and best wishes  welcome a new child into OUR world to eventually send them off...

                       As they let go, at times  their instincts wanting to pull child back into their safe-ness, they 'Do their Job' and release. Imagine their plight, being and pray for them as they need to the best we can offer up to support them.

                  AMERICA! FOR SAKE OF YOUR OWN CONSCIENCE, or for your belief in Jesus, find your balls, or tits as you are female and speak your mind!!!!!: So many children are slaughtered, sold in pedophile jungles both here and abroad each and every year.

                    My Brothers and Sisters in Jesus, may i ask you this? How many of these babes were ever Baptized?  My Question to runs deeper and i believe it relevant. : Can a group of believers in Jesus do a baptism for those who never stood a chance for a baptism?

                      I sincerely believe we can find a way as I know this can be in my heart.

                     In Jesus name, I pray!!!!!

                      I will find a way to make this happen for them, so help me God!!!!

       

                      -Mark william Darus
                   

                   

                 

                     

                   

                       
                     
                       

                   

                       

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

May i Ask You to take A Moment and Pray,


                 May i Ask You to take A Moment and Pray, Send Hope to Lafayette Louisiana.
                                                                   by
                                                                MWD.



                         After a fairly odd night at work, spending some twenty minutes decompressing with Craig, talking about work and life in general after clocking out.

                    i Work in a machine shop. Tons and Tons of metal is crafted into axels, shafts and transmission parts. Raw material fed into machines by the  amazing men and women i work with, getting spat out and put into steel bins, usually totaling anywhere between 1 to 2 tons in weight. These are moved about via Mitsubishi TowMotors about the shop. Well, the shop redid the floor and seem highly worried about scuff marks/scratches on the floor.  I believe I am heading for a write-up as marks, scars and drag-marks happen on oily surfaces at the colossal speed of 1 to 2 miles an hour. I truly feel for and love my BOSS as he brings scratches and such discovered on day shift  to my and others attention.  I cannot imagine how he feels about wanting us to be gentler, softer and further careful and vigilant when setting TONS of weight to recently painted concrete flooring. He's a proud man, did time in our Army, and I think his mind is blowing chunks on this. He may be my BOSS, yet he has one as well.


                  CRaig and i  usually talk to each other every night after work. We comment about sounds heard, occasional coyotes baying, frog sounds and hilarious PA messages from seriously over-worked men  for a towmotor operator as they imitate one another. We laugh, share things, shake hands, enter our vehicles after saying "seeya later today, or Seeya in the PM" as those that work hours like us, there is no tomorrow except for weekends.

                   i get into my Trailblazer, fire up the straight 4.2 and click my radio to life and am greeted with-

                   "Police are not releasing the name of the 58 year old white male that killed 3 people while gunning down 7 more at a movie theatre in Lafayette Louisiana during the opening of the film Trainwreck. "

                     i was stopped hard by this news. Just two days ago I reread an old blog entry about the Colorado Movie shooting that the shooter is now on trial for.

                     

                     i began crying as i thought about how those there must have seen this come down before their eyes. i thought about children that may have been there and what their minds, innocence shattering as bullet fire rang out and how scared they must have been.

                     Needing cigs, I stopped at the GetGo on my way home. i asked the register worker what she thought the shooting.

                      She hadn't heard of it, nor had the three people behind me. Quickly, The Three nailed their SmartPhones discovering it. i heard heaving gasps from them, a couple saying 'my god!"

                       "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS WORLD COMING TO?" an Applebees  smock clad waitress exclaimed.

                        "I need to call my wife," a tired looking black man in overalls shared.

                     "your total is 12 dollars and 30 cents,"

                      Swiping my debit card across a reader, i offered this: "pray for them if you have it within to do so."

                      A stranger put his hands on my shoulders as i turned around to exit. He was crying, saying, "Dear Lord Jesus, be with the ones in the hospital, their friends and children."

                     i looked into this mans eyes and felt his  words/hearts desire to God.

                     my Savior, Jesus, thank you making me do what i do and see what occurs around me.

                   

                      He is With us, Always
                          click link above for the song.

                    Father of all beautiful and wonderful things, i ask you to stretch your loving arms around the people of Lafayette Louisiana as they struggle, cry, hurt, and wake this morn feeling way different than they had to day before. Dear holder of my heart and soul, i pray you be with them as you have always stuck by my side never straddling  a fence as I faltered before you . i kind of know you will, yet i ask you all the same. I cannot fully know nor imagine how big your heart and thoughts for us  truly must be. Your love so great and vast,  eclipsing the highest Earthland peaks while delving into depths far lower in the darkest,  most secretive and protected parts of our hearts.  Lord, Jesus, if you were a music studio (and in my heart of hearts, you are to so many. Inspiring them, fueling them, touching their minds causing fire to ignite within them,  nailing hearts to share to the world.) your soundboard would have a billion plus sliders to balance.  i beseech you both, my Jesus and his Dad, God: Have this city awaken in a few hours and see your glory and peaceful embrace hold them. They will be hurting in ways i sickly can imagine. This  coming weekend, parents telling loving children that maybe going to a movie isn't a great idea right now, give these parents blessed alternatives being a picnic in the park, their kids and friends cooking the kitchen night, and.or whatever ideas you would grant them, if lost without your love, or simply blindsided today and hold you high.

                      my Loving and Guiding Force in my sinful heart, Jesus: Have others extend arms around to embrace so many so hurting across my lands this morning. God, shove some incredibly stubborn to place in their heart they can place a quivering hand to another s shoulder as they express: I'm sorry for your loss.

                  Lord, their minds must be rifling across so many things: Movies, Not Safe. Churches, ditto, forget Postal offices, Jobs, schools, gas stations, Malls, where is Safe Harbor?

                 My Heavenly Father, teach them easier than you did me in letting them know the only safe place is how we live each day while trying our hardest to try and stay by your side and not stray from you.

                So grateful you gave yourself for us.

                 In Jesus name, i pray, Amen.

     - MWD. words from me shared via permission given ALL of us to do so. What is your cost of faith? How would having faith hurt you? Just asking....

               Be Blessed in your walk.


                   

                 
                     
     
                   


             

                       

Monday, July 20, 2015

Drops in the Ocean....Sandra Bland. I know what I heard of you.


                                                                        Drops in the Ocean....
                                                                                     by
                                                                      Inspirational Avenues
                                                                                MWD.


                      The Physical Leader of, (the failing Nation of the United States of America, going through slow death-throws much like that of Rome when it fell centuries ago),   my country tosses a contract with Iran to stop them from going Nuclear. Wowie!!! How awesome is that? Stock potential markets spiked, massive investment prospecting to be gained in Iran. Yeah, Buddy! Jump aboard the Lust Boat and get you portfolios ready!!!!

                       And look at us, those in the USA, mending fences with Cuba. Their tourist trade has climbed some 15% in the last 4 months.  Granted, I thought my countries wish to Kill-the-Beard most archaic and asinine.

                Part of the agreement with Iran says we, WE (USA tax dollars at work, yours and mine) will teach them how to defend against others....

                Hmmmm, didn't we say we would do the same for the  Ukraine?  Soon after Olympics ended, did not Russia go after the Ukrianes borders? And what did we do? Sanctions prompting their head of Space Station relations to suggest that the USA build a huge trampoline to reach the international space station instead of hitching a ride with their crew.



                Wow, really? I guess the stock/greed factor in my country isn't as great in the Ukraine as it is in Iran.

                  TELL ME HOW THIS DOES NOT SUCK!

               I get it, really I do.

               It's all good as long as our Iphones work.

               A woman drives half way across the country for a job interview to which she is hired and given a start date at Her alma moter . She later gets pulled over and is arrested. She is, according to released documents, released the same day and found dead, hanging by slendor neck in a Texas jail cell.
               Her family and friends say she would not commit suicide.

               I know if were given a job in my hearts desire I would so break the law, get arrested and thus OFF myself immediately after being released. And better yet, off myself in the very same cell I was released from. Yeah, I can so see this.

              Can't  you?
             
              Screw That Noise!

             I hate to say there is vile and sick work in our OH-SO comfortable UNITED STATES of Amerika.

             Wow,  really, hold her, Sandra Blands death, horrifically untimely by my thoughts given me in you arms of positive thought and prayers.

              Well, I can so say this with you all: When I got hired after a 4 months lack of employment I knew I WANTED TO GET PULLED OVER AND GET 'SUICIDED' !!!!

             There is a filthy Hatred that fills our Earth.

             I pray for Sandra Bland and her friends and family.

              My thoughts:

            SUICIDE?!?! SORRY, NO CHANCE IN HELL!

             I sincerely believe my United States of America is poised on the brink of revolution on so many fronts we now have about 18 republican candidates to hold in sway as they Mesmerize us with spells, glances and rhetoric. Yeah, brothers and sisters: Drink their Koolaide, damn your childrens futures for further education and damn them for their next twenty years with House Note on a place they will never own.

                 
                  Take Sandra Bland into your heart, Jesus.
                   Hold her family and friends close as they dive for explanations,

                  Texas is a proud state....

                    Sandra did not End Her Life in my opinion.

                   Sandra was a victim of racism.

                  She was killed by fools.

                  Mark William Darus.








       

         



           

                 

Thursday, July 2, 2015

Praise God From Who All Blessings Flow...


                                              Praise God From Who All Blessings Flow...
                                                                            by
                                                            Mark William Darus (seriously, I'm but a typist, and in all honesty, not a very good one...

                                            Play this redone Classic as you read this, if you'd be so kind.
                                           Praise God From Who All Blessings Flow....
                     

               For some reason while at work tonight i began thinking about Brooklyn Memorial United Methodist church, the church of my youth. For some  reason, i felt a sense of melancholy as mind drifted backward across many decades. My thoughts, other-directed, running in so many directions i nearly became overwhelmed by the sheer force pushing them and nearly placing my seriously battered Mitsubishi Towmotor into  caressing a wall at 1 MPH. (yeah, 1, one, Uno, ) Granted, Kissing the wall behind the bank of pre-WWII Acme-GRidley's, going further into the Hydromat machine areas, such low-speed slidings occur on a regular basis. As long you don't hit a machine or CoWorker, it's all good in the Hood.

               My mind began replaying songs I sang in  BMUMC's Youth Choir, later, the Adult Choir, eventually culminating to a Sunrise Service that our Youth Fellowship did twice before the congregation, at their request.  We created a Passion Play singing,  with piano accompaniment from a highly gifted/talented man,  using songs from both Godspell and Jesus Christ Superstar.   Wow, was that really 38 years ago? I was 14 then,.. All bright-eyed and bushy tailed, energetic, enthusiastic, optimistic...

            52 for a few more weeks. Oddly, i don't feel that old at all. i think i know why this is so.

           Bare with me, gentle reader:  kick your seat back, take a sip of wine, don't let your popcorn burn the inside of your microwave...



             I have always been of the belief that we only Downward age, become  truly OLD, tired and feeble in Mind and Soul, when nothing beautiful, unique, bizarre, captures the very sense of Awe in witnessing those. We were given, since our birth,  a divine blessing, when the gift of sight, sound, smell and feeling was Brand New to us. Didn't we then suck everything up like Moses  walking  the desert plains  finding a water source?  And did not you grow with each event you took into your mind, memory, heart and soul?

           So let me ask you this: At what point did you stop seeing beauty, hearing sincere laughter, relishing the smell of fresh baked bread with buttery top? When did you allow yourself to lose touch with the wonder of everyday enlightenment granted each and everyone of us while our eyes are open, ears always taking in even when asleep, nostrils catching air that our tongue give us taste?

         i AM GUILTY OF THIS!! Christ knows I wandered decades ago and stupidly thrusting my ass into a Soul Eclipse that had me see nothing wonderful, amazing or precious even as my daughters were growing. I so then easily drank the Guyana Grape Koolaide and sucked in the media's desire to show nothing good, precious, pretty in this life.  I ruled these streets for years, still loving Jesus, just somehow missing the connection as either trains, planes, ships or the fuckin' bus was missed by me.

           "WE'RE HERE LIVE ON THE CORNER OF EAST 55TH AND EUCLID WHERE A SHOOTING JUST OCCURRED." The pretty blond on screen speaks as camera shows her smiling before all, hair swaying gently in a breeze from right to left, sometimes landing on the  royal blue dress that flatters her figure.


       "A carbomb detonated in Belfast today, killing 28 and injuring 50 others."  a heavy accented man cries out...

                   "Watch out for Killer Bee's in your neighborhood!!! These bees, other called: Africanized bees are highly agressive and can be lethal!"

                      I'm sure you get my point,

                So easily are we to swept away in bad currents flowings and  become negative, yet we so eagerly, wantingly wish  to share these down-thoughts with others.  Perhaps hoping, desiring their DArkness to match us, meet us. Misery loves company, does it not? ((( SO DON'T YOU EVER LET ANOTHER BRING YOU DOWN!!!!  )))

                     If you have a love of life, ANY  passion beating in your chest and mind/soul, a crooked smile tossed at one slipping on icy pavement and their sustaining balance after several moments, for the walker- sheer panic nailing them and your tossing fist to heavens, undoubtedly nailing cars cieling while yelling "YEAH!" when he strolled toward car, not falling.

                Standing in a shopping line at the Giant Eagle on Pearl Rd in Middleburg hts, , I was behind a woman in a beautiful floral-patterned dress. Her long, incredibly lovely brunette locks , coursing over well toned shoulders flowing down to shapely legs. . High cheeks, strong facial features, soon lost composure as she  began firing enormously loud and extremely odoriferous sharings...

         "V----RUMPH! VVVVVVVVV-RRRRRRRRRRU-----UMPH! " Sound immediately hitting ears and smell quickly nailing nostrils of all those in the 5, maybe 10 foot circumference from bottom-zero.

         I watched her when this happened, her face not looking nearly so confident, secure. Her eyes darting from right to left as if trying to mate with mind to elsewhere make needed excuse to cover, and sorry to say this pun, cover her ass.

            What did I do?

         I was directly  behind, well, her behind,  when it fired things for an incredibly long time.  Keep this in mind: I know so many sisters and brothers with IBS (irritable bowel syndrome). I've shopped, stopped and waited patiently with them for theirv cramps to subside, fade away and such.  And why am I one of the only of Jesus's children to share this for others understanding?

           Okay, what did you do, A-hole????

            "I'm ----- sooooo ------- very-------sorry!!!" she spoke in wavering and lost tone,  her blue eyes creasing into slits, tears welling up in them. Lips ends descending downward toward FrownVille.

          So many in audience spoke.

           "dang, Bitch! You smellz az bad az a SHEEE-Kah-GOOOO stockyard in highz Auuuuu-guZZZT!" a highly creative and quickly leaving man states to his woman. She quickly states: Fucckkaaaah, I be a nursing assistant! We smells shit every mother loving day! You needs to get a job, serious. Asshole!!!!"

            An exquisitely well clad female in Michael Kors gear, sporting long, finely manicured nails on both hands and feet,  opens her gaping, disgusting  mouth-trap for all to hear: " Honey, ever hear of Depends?!?!?  You should think about it. Damn! If I throw up, I am gonna spew toward you!"

           Several witnessing laughed while others looked bewildered at this womans remarks.


           Well, i did what i do: Unleash thoughts not mine, open my mouth and  be what I like to be though others would call me an asshole.  i did the me-thing, and just spoke out...

      (to the lady saying the fart lady needs Depends: "C'mon, really? You think Depends stop the sound and smell? Are you an idiot in the highest order?" Stopped a moment, stared at her blank expression and went for the Killshot:  (yeah, I said Killshot. I somehow thought I needed to go  extreme with this woman, and somehow found the strength to do so.  I went brash, filthy and disgusting on this.

              "and may I ask you where your bodily functions might create inordinate events in your life?
Ever think about that? Guess not, so walk away, meet me in the parking to chat furthers, whatever..."

             I locked eyes on the embarrassed woman with IBS and simply smiled. I said a sharing from memory with my youngest daughter every morning as I walked her down the stairs and every other step she would fart. I laughed and thanked this woman: "my youngest farted every  other step each morn while going downstairs. Thanks for reminding me how precious that is!"

              She managed a smile, nodded her head to me, and left...





                Difficult is the path that makes you see, feel and want to share with others what you find amazing, sweet and just plain  pretty.

               
           Well, It is my sincere hope you can and do this with others. Give all those you encounter positive thoughts, inspirations, hope and the sharings of gifts given you. I don't care what god they have, doesn't matter in my book. With my JC, it matters not if nonbelievers believe in Him, HE BELIEVES IN THEM!!!!!!

          -Mark William Darus
       

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Can I Play With Madness? Reprisal: June 25 2015.


                                         Can I Play With Madness?
                                                            by
                                              Mark William Darus.

                                   part one written November, 2014.  part two given me as moon dives into rising sun this morn today.

                             I started this blog with a direction of NonViolent Psychopathy in mind. In the last two and half years, it has run a gambit from that simple starting point to vast areas I never knew I'd find in my research. Yeah, mostly dark and bleak in their nature yet enlightening for those still capable of learning.

                                         Can I Play With Madness?
                     One constant being a song by a band called Iron Maiden and their musical story: Can I play with Madness. (or as one of my daughters would sing it at a very young age: Can I play with Magnets? lol Gotta love how the innocent hear things!

                 This blog started on the heels of a local school shooting, that being in Chardon Ohio, going to areas of psychopathic politicians, corporate CEO's, Members of the Clergy, Dating Relationships and so on and so forth.

                 I find myself lost these days more often than not though...

                  Why so?

                  We've gone from work place postal killing sprees, school killings, and random gang related drive-by killings to be-headings, Hatchet people going after cops to Ebola bouncing around and about.

                   My thought about Ebola: If the sick and stricken Americans  with this can be brought back to the USA and be made well through treatment, how is it that we as a nation don't treat West Africa with the same money we would give any other country descimated by an Earthquake, Tsunami or other cataclysmic event?

                 I think most of us know the answer for this. No profit to be gained helping Africa. So what do we do? We send the 101st Airborne and 4000 National Guard troops over there. I don't like what I am about to write, but will write it nonetheless: My thoughts and prayers go to yet the further Lemmings we press into areas like we did in Vietnam.  Our Male and Female soldiers, the sons and daughters our land, following orders given them.
 
                      I am lost finding a single area to write about as I am infuriated by what is going on. Help me out. What would you like me to write about? Thanks. I think this song/link works globally with the internet.
            Wishing you the best,
            -Mark William Darus


                   part two:

      06252015 Authors Note:  As I reread this, editing it along the way, I realized something: Playing with Madness, insanity and the depths of depression is as familiar and commonplace to me as one might find in tying a shoelace. It's just something you do and never question why you do it. I've studied psychology for over 40 years now and have never lost an interest in it. I started this back when, age 12,  to perhaps gain a better understanding of myself, though I think the greatest side-effect of my studies gave me a way to help others suffering with minds, thoughts, and lives that hurt them in ways highly difficult to cope with. <granted, I didn't get that part until late teens and so forth.>

            I was not without sin during this lifelong journey though. I used a lot of what I'd learned about human behavior to manipulate  girlfriends, bosses and others for whatever reason I had at the time. Yep, doesn't speak highly for me, does it?  How ugly is it to have an ability to place gentle,  loving, caring people on a chessboard and move them around it for little more than our own amusement?  Well, never wishing to mince words: THAT'S PRETTY FRIGGIN DISGUSTING, LOW AND NASTY!!!!

                   A word of  PROFOUND thanks to Jesus and his POPS: Why did you not strike me down as I did what I did to others? I used knowledge from reading books,  perception from watching others reactions in  many Emergency Rooms, and finding the damaged females, and twisted things horrifically so to get, gain, something....? I cannot justify what I have done before your eyes, yet you let me live....

           All I can speculate is this while looking back  (trying to be humble during this writing and not blasphemy and presume the mind of God) : Jesus and his Pops had something in store for me as I went about my life then. I'm not suggesting they condoned, appreciated nor applauded what I did to others. I do, however, feel they loved me and gave me massive latitude while I strayed, toyed, messed with others to learn from their reactions.

           All things began to change in me as I began to learn patience. This occurred in my thirties, a divorce being the stress factor leading to me nearly killing myself that first Christmas afterward.  I had placed a bottle of sleeping pills I had purchased at a Discount Drug Mart on a shelf that cold sunny day December 1992. My daughters, safe at their  mothers home for the weekend, out of sight, out of mind.

           They, my girls, were away from me....

           On fallen knees, having spoken my peace, begging forgiveness for my weakness from my Lord and saviour, yet unable to surrender then ,  I reached for the bottle of eternal slumber and stopped suddenly. My  eyes, mind, heart and/or perhaps what was left of my soul caught something stopping me fast.  I began  bursting into tears, bringing fists and forearms firmly to floor, wanting to feel a sense of physical hurt to match my mental loathing of myself. I had caused so much damage to others, I caused one who loved me to walk away from... . I had placed the tablets  of Self-Elimination in front of picture of my daughters, my eyes caught theirs in the photo, and with that, the worst and ugliest part of my life died forever....

          I have to thank Sue  <Winkie, back in the-day!> (I cannot find it in my heart to call her an EX. She did what she had to do, And I will always understand this. I was not good to be around then. I will always give her credit: She is the BEST, most gifted artist I have ever known and freely recommend her name to  every place but French Bistros. )  for that photo. She suggested we take a free photo thing from somewhere of the girls.  I believe that photo at divine drop of pill vessel caused me to take stock.

          "Wow, how Spooky is dat chit, m'yan?" me asking how would Tony Montana  (Scarface would say it, lolol.)  We're talking spiritual happenings like  AM talkshow  radio stations like Coast to Coast AM show (1100 WTAM),  George Noury callers   share conversations with others that have mystic aliens place their trash on their front lawns (or is it  those dang Government Snoopers) digging deeper into their brains?  Another proclaiming  "Sasquatch is relieving  Rheumatoid Arthritis pain for all those that amble down to the corner of  Pierce rd and Welsh, just catty-corner from the old Sinclair Fuel Station, and yeah, the old Di-nuh-sewer  sing is still hanging on the post. He's a tad rusty nowadays, but he's still a-hanging thar! "  To: "Hey, Jade Helm is taking, maneuvering around recently closed Walmart stores, converting them into either future interment camps or ammo dumps, bro! Ever see semi's, ya know, tractor trailers, man, with US DOT markings on their sides? Really? Dude, this ain't good for any of us...."

         Spooked out, freaking, crying like the lunatic that I was at that moment, I gave up for the first time in my adult life.

            Was embraced by Jesus.

                 Being  both human of flesh and fragile in spirit, I would still often walk away....

          Patience is a gift, is it not? Sure, soft spoken, encouraging parents tell us in our early years:  " Be patient, Maribeth, Christmas is but a few weeks away and you will find what Santa brings you. Now go back to your homework, okay?"  But look to yourself and ask this: When did you learn to be patient?

                Well, I found I could help others versus fucking with them the all I had learned. This is not to suggest I didn't backslide many a time wanting a comfort zone periodically. God knows I did.

             I think I was granted further living   to teach others things they never thought about in their lives.  Those aspects  being with family, man-woman relationships, workplace environments to political/religious and how  they could be used/abused by them and how to avoid such things.

               Looking at this blog with Newer Eyes now, knowing why I wrote what I did as I will always stand by the words i placed here. Apparently\, I am called to continual do so here...

              God's Not Dead, and oddly, Neither is this Blog. I wish I could say I am sorry, yet I cannot do so. Thru this dark, ugly place I created,  I, given words from otherness, reached others far and wide and still do. I CANNOT, WILL NOT, turn my back on you that still read here!

             Hugs and blessings to you all,
              Mark William Darus. 06252015

Friday, June 12, 2015

To Everything, Turn, Turn, Turn...


                                                   To Everything, Turn, Turn, Turn...
                                                                             by
                                                               Mark William Darus.

               Yeah, the title for this entry I stole from The Byrds.
             
                Indulge me, if so kind, and hit the link and listen as you read my words.
                                                          The Byrds. Turn...

                How does one end something they created and freely tossed to our Blue Marble?

                 A place  for all to read, learn and hopefully grow as lights might go off in their heads, thinking: 'Damn, now I get it!' and/or 'Wow, how could I have been so blind?' Perhaps: 'Is that how they got a promotion over me?' and many other thoughts some might be hit with.

          It was my intention to show all readers the highly dark and ugly places many of us have either fallen into or created in others and how these events occur in our lives. To show this simple truth: You are Not Alone. I think all of us have either been used by others, have used others for personal gain, or both over time.

               We're both Predator and Prey to one another, are we not? More often than not, both exist in each and every one of us on a daily basis at any given moment.

                    You disagree? No problem, though I ask  you consider this before sending me harsh emails: You feel like you're being used by your boyfriend/girlfriend/coworker/ a boss that steals your ideas to elevate their position, whatever. For reasons you hold within your heart of hearts sacred, maybe fearing what might happen if you talked about them to another,  most likely held from your childhood experiences of physical, sexual or emotional abuse.  You, alone, yet being anothers prey, go  out and about on your time away from those controlling. You are shopping, getting gas, having nails painted to please the "him" / getting a haircut to please the 'Her', while your mind is spinning of thoughts never ending of personal failures in you taking an hour from a week for yourself. As you spending this hour for yourself, relishing it, loving it, cherishing it,   something goes south of expectation, making your brain cross mental terminator.    You so quickly turn  from hunted to hunter at an others small misdoing ,one easily corrected, yet still you go all vocal Isis on them. Belittling them with harsh words, your eyes showing fiery pupils of daggers, the twist of your face displaying your enjoyment for doing to others, hurting others, as you have let yourself fall into a world of bad decisions.  While they apologize, attempt to correct things, struggle at minimum wage to make things right with you, Not Enough for you, is it? You always have to point out how their hair is uneven, a nose piercing sets not quite right, the tat on your arm is misspelled, you're too fat to please any man, honey, forget wearing pink and know vibrators will be your only mate....

             Yeah, I have heard all those above in check out lines across many venues.  I have seen shoppers go so rotten as to say after the cashier told them the total cost for third time was greeted with from a so caught by cell shopper snaps: "damnit, Beyatch! What does I neee- DANG! NOT YOU, sorry hon, I am just asking dis bitch runnin my card to STOP INTERUPTION ME NOW!!!"

                     I thank my  HIGH-FIVING GOD, the pappy of Jesus for giving me an avenue to wander, learn, struggle with a life without things most take for granted.  You said when I would just surrender to you, I would find what made me different.  Well, I found out at your will, sorry my sisters didn't like this.

                 Yet,  I am struggling now. I believe this mental creation given at my hands from othernous, be it God as he gives me the Black and White to write with or Jesus that has me share beauty and redemption for all  to experience safe harbour  with.

                    I would like to give thanks to those that visited Psychopathy: Another Life. My Friends and readers, 48000 strong over it's 3 year life.  I humbly thank the over 88  countries, that read my ramblings, shreddings, carings,  You took time, read my shotguns blasting of thoughts,,, How can not I  say you are the best your country has to give me. IN ALL HONESTY,  I LOVE YOU ALL, HUG YOU ALL. WHERE HAVE WE NOT GONE TO FILTHY DISGUSTING AREAS,  finding pennies on a platform to feed us..

              My Dearest God!  your accidental baptisms Hits my left arm cooling it, sweet. So many, annoyed, rain drops falll.


           again, how does one end something..... How do we slay a comfort zone for better benefit ??

                   Thanks for your sharings. support, belief in something greater tHAN YOURSELF.... Freely taking goosebumps on forearms, the tender strokes across the  back neck, ,                    WE'RE THE DREAM WARRPRW        


  Christ, Jesus, your father lead me on this path of a blog. I must end it now and I find myself crying,  hurting and sobbing surrendering further to your will for me to grant avenues to share with others.   My father, I will to try to make it worthy of you.

         Before closing this, I would like to thank the people of these many lands I have met in the physical world, though they have visited and touched my life: your reading my words kept me alive.

                   Thanks to the people of these proud lands that took the time to read me: Czech Republic, China, Korea, France, UK, Russia, Brazil, Spain, Mexico, South Africa, Malta, Ukraine, Canada, Sweden, Iceland, Germany, Belgium, Afghanistan, Serbia, Portugal, Thailand, Kenya, Norway, Syria, Greenland, Latvia, Costa Rica, Finland, Belize, Rwanda, Greece, Nepal, Australia, Italy, Hungary, Libya, Japan, Taiwan, Lebanon, Trinidad and Tobago, Slovakia, Denmark, Cambodia, Bangladesh, Fiji, Jordan, Laos, New Zealand, Israel, Croatia, Saint Helena, Honduras, Romania, Taiwan, Liberia, Kyrgyzstan, Cape Verde, Barbados, and my friends in what’s left in the once proud UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 

                           
                                I wish to welcome you down another road. Know I am merely a typist....

                                A place filled with potholes and nastiness, yet, a gentle spot to lay your head down, perhaps not feeling so nuts when something catches you off guard in a good way.

                        A Long Down a Short Pier, And Where It Led me....

                   Hope to see you there!
                    I now end this blog, thanking so many of you in my journey down the road....

                     I could not have reached this place without all of you!!!!
                     
                          From my now ever growing heart, so  much like the Grinch  a mere three years ago,  sizes too small,  learning to walk again via OtherNous, figuring things out about myself, limping, crawling, finding avenues of expression that might mate to others minds and grant them understanding and an element of peace.

                    I wish for each and everyone of us to find a place in gentle heart of understanding for all of us that share a precious gem, this being our Blue Marble.

                   Hugs to EACH AND EVERY FREAKING ONE OF YOU!!!!! YOU KEPT ALIVE BY YOUR VIEWING THIS, REPEATED READERSHIP, EMAILS AND SUCH!!!!! AS MY LIFE TOOK SO MUCH AWAY FROM ME, JESUS AND YOUR FELLOWSHIP ACROSS A GLOBE,  MADE ME REALIZE WHAT IS TRULY IMPORTANT. ALL OTHERS ARE VASTLY MORE IMPORTANT THAN OURSELVES....
                           WE ALL GOT STADIUM LOVE!
                                              STADIUM LOVE

                   
                        Kick your weekend into gear and share something beautiful and righteous for a change instead of telling how you got buggered off by another.

                              END OF LINE.....
                            MaY YoUr LiFe Be BlEsSed!
             MARK WILLIAM  DARUS 06122015
              

               


               
               
             

                 I

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

American Sniper: Story of Chris Kyle. by Mark William Darus. A movie was made about the life of one Chris Kyle, American Sniper. At the time of this writing I have neither read the book nor seen the movie. I am writing this now based on the profoundly stupid and sublimely idiotic viewpoints of those that would consider Snipers cowards of the highest order. Some would suggest these brave men and women, from safe distances shielded far away from immediate retaliation act as mere steely-knived murderers in a back alley way much like Jack the Ripper. Some might say they act as Rogue Elements of country gone insane, are merely 'kites' whose strings can cut, their beings sent adrift, disregarded and totally alone of support as when captured they are labeled spies. In the online game Battlefield 1942, I, more often than not have been a Sniper. When online while playing this, I would seek out the 'ONE' on the otherside that had the highest kill-rate and find ways to eliminate them. If they drove either a Panzer IV or a Sherman, upon resurrection, I would spawn back as someone with a bazooka to take them out. If they were an Engineer, I'd seek them out, hunt them down, and waste them as they fixed tanks and such. If they were, rarely so, a Medic, I'd waste them without a moments hesitation as they tried to help a team member in need. In short: I would find a way to eradicate any single profound threat to my team members. Yeah, so I am a video kid, Wargames Warrior that gets replays at every death and ill move I make and stroll down. Big fucking deal as I die! I merely get re-spawned to try things, waste the bad buys yet again. It's all so cool to do this as we are given a chance to learn from our mistakes. I've gone rounds where my Kill-Rate was 11 to 1 (that is to say I have killed 11 for every one of me.) to sometimes 30 to 1. I would often ask myself: How could I do this better and would push myself to do so from the comfy and cozy realm of a large screen monitor and 5-1 surround sound? Meanwhile, in the real/physical world we live in, Snipers, and I will always capitalize their title as I believe it to be as required as one might acknowledge that of a Doctor, are needed in modern conflicts. Why are Earth would I say such a thing as the above sentence? Mark, how could you possibly compare a cold hearted, stealthy, mile a way Killer and one that swore the Hypacratic Oath (sp?). This is easy for me to share. Here's why. Most doctors these days go toward private practices, specialties, if you will, to combat various ailments though directed points toward healing, more often than not, referring them to another Doctor. . Be it: Sports Medicine, Pain Management, Anorexia/Bulimia, Sleep Apnya (sp?), these selective physicians target and aide and do their best. Consider this: RED SECTOR NINER! crackles over headsets half a world away from our living rooms here in the USA. "Charlie Six is on the move!" A man/woman hunkered down in deep brush has a single target in their guns sights from a mile a way. Another team has Laze'd the area the main target the Sniper has acquired and is calling for a 30,000 foot high request to do a bombing run. A tiny moment passing: a voice goes over the wavelengths, "I've got this! Gimmie a moment, damn you! (deep inhale caught followed by report fired.: "It's done. Bombers stand down. That fucker's toast." The value of a gifted Sniper is to eliminate collateral damage and kill the ONE versus many others and live with the emotional fallout as you are responsible for covering people with the targets brain matter. I cannot imagine how one could balance this in their life successfully. Chris: I respect what you did for us as well as your work helping those Heros that were back in country. May you Rest in Peace and may your family have great lives. I wait to meet you as I earn my way toward the here after. -Mark William Darus