Showing posts with label forgiveness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label forgiveness. Show all posts

Friday, January 6, 2023

Surrender

AA teaches that we surrender.  We cease fighting everyone and everything.  Righteous anger is a dubious luxury in those in recovery.

I probably wouldn’t have joined AA a quarter century ago if it weren’t for reading that American soldiers continued to fight the Nazis in Italy while remaining sober in AA.  I did not believe e in pacifism. I believed in self defence.  I feel Trudeau is attacking Canada and Canadians and has placed himself above the law.  But is it my fight? 

 In my work and personal life I’ve met hundreds of individuals personally harmed by communism first hand.  Even as a representative to youth parliament I spoke out against communism in my 20’s in the Ottawa parliament.  Even now my patients have described Communist Chinese police and military in Canada spying on our soil and threatening citizens who speak out against the latest invasion of Hong Kong by the communists.  When I met with the Dalai Lama he was still speaking against the genocide of Tibetans by the communist Chinese, the invasion and ethnic cleansing of the local Tibetans replacing them with Communist Chinese.  
The Uyghurs continue to be imprisoned and the organs extracted for communist Chinese officials,  It’s like Auschwitz continues, but in China.   I read Solzinitzin ‘s Gulag about the slave work camps in Communist Russia.  My colleague survived the Concentration camps of the communist Pol Pot.  The Cambodian communists murdered millions, half the population of Cambodia.  I listened in horror to his personal story and his individual courage.  I was just in Ethiopia where I heard of the horrors when then the Communist overthrew the government and killed so many before they were again overthrown,  I talked to survivors sitting and sharing in the churches I was visiting, 
Working with refugees from Communist regimes I heard first hand accounts of torture and terror.  It’s horrifying to know that Trudeau has invited the communist Chinese military to train on Canadian soil while he treats Canadian veterans and hero’s with utter disdain and disrespect. 

I am taught, Let go and Let God. Having a resentment to Trudeau  is said to be like taking poison and hoping the other guy dies.  I am old. My back hurts,  I’ve given my life to service and caring for others. I’m the original hippy.  A peacenik  I don’t want a war.  Make love not war.  As a Christian I am taught to pray for my enemy and turn the other cheek,  Jesus’s disciples were armed and his message appealed to Centurions.  I loved. CS Lewis’ Christian messages to the troops on BBC.  The fight against fascism was like the fight against Communism.  Christians are slow to anger but the disciples were armed and defensive and protected the women and children in their midsts from the robbers, murderers and kidnappers in their journeys.  

Though my father was Air Force and my uncle Military Police I chose medicine and healing. If the Vietnam war against the Communist north Vietnamese as a proxy war was expanded  by Communist China I’d work as a doctor not as a shooter. The Korean War in which Canada was so successful and admired was another Communist Chinese Proxy War.   Korea was divided with the north still firing missiles over Japan and over Guam where my friends live. 
Communism is the ideology of perpetual war.  Yet even Putin claims his ‘invasion’ of Ukraine is ‘defensive’.  There is no truth in Communism.  Whatever the Central Communist Committee says is true.  With the fall of the Berlin Wall and the exposure of the Stazis files the reality of the massive deceit and terror in Communism was again exposed,  
CSIS says the Communist Chinese have infiltrated the Canadian Education, Media and Government to the highest level, 

Jesus commanded ‘do not be afraid.’  Worrying in wicked. I’m admittedly anxious but I lived under the threat of Cold War.  We did drills during the Kennedy Missile Crisis curled up as children under desks and by school walls,  When the city siren went off we filed to the basement of the Hudson Bay fearing separation from our fanily.  Our city was just north of the American missile sirens on the direct route of the first strike Communist Inter continental nuclear missiles,
Communist China’s latest missiles are aimed at the west coast and can and will strike Vancouver and Seatle,  Xi Jing Ping has threatened this.  Once again I’m living in a nightmare with Trudeau singing Queen at the death of Queen Elizabeth a monarch and world leader I had so admired,  During WW 2 she stood up to Fascism and would stand up against the Communists. She worked as a mechanic in the war effort.  Pierre Trudeau flew Nazi  flags , trained in Communism in Russia and celebrated Communist Castro.  His son celebrates Xi Jing Ping.  

I probably have PTSD still. I have waves of anxiety and need to accept that God’s divine retribution will take care of Trudeau.  I wouldn’t want his karma.  I need to let go and let God.  

What’s also true is I really haven’t much of a clue about Trudeau or the Liberals today because it’s all hearsay.  Elon Musk has exposed how warped and bizarre Twitter became with the FBI with Hillary’s campaign creating a false Russian disinformation dossier and deciding what and who could be heard.  Conservative voices were blacklisted like in Canada.  The CBC and other Canadian media have been bought by Trudeau so they are little more than government public relations,  Canada’s “People’s Daily’.  With all the misinformation and disinformation in the media, Trudeau might well be a good guy, just another victim in the horror show of Canadian politics with Communist Russia’s war in Europe,  Communist China’s war in the China Sea and Covid leaked from the Wuhan lab. The Pangolin were falsely accused along with the wet markets which didn’t sell bats.   So whose to know if what we are told is Trudeau, is Trudeau. Maybe the actor is replaced by an actor.  Reality is crazier than fiction,  Who is the real Justin Trudeau?  

I believe those I know personally have sufferd at the hands of the Communists.  I have seen and touched their scars.  I may be a Conservative Canadian today but when I drank and smoked I was a liberal. Today I have liberal friends and know so many who are pro Liberal anti Trudeau.  I even have patients who know Trudeau and swear by him. Just as I met Turner and Chrétien and Harper and swore by them they swear by Trudeau. They see him as loose and a flake but not inherently evil, At most what Lenin called a ‘useful idiot’.  So why am I doing feeling such negativity for him.  Isn’t it as much my counter transference issues.  

I didn’t cause Trudeau, I can’t control Trudeau, And I can’t cure Trudeau,  God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change (Trudeau) , the courage to change the things I can (me, my attitude, my fear and resentment). And the wisdom to know the difference,  

In my work I ‘ve had guns pointed at me, Ironically by criminals and police.  I was held hostage and my life threatened so badly I have nightmares still so admittedly a lot of the media and threats and fears of the last few years have touched and triggered me. I’m blessed to have colleagues and friends who have supported me, I have my faithful little dog Madigan and Laura has been a comfort along with my family whose lives are so creative and loving,

I do listen all day to patients who are suffering mostly these days from inflation and negligence and lack of resources.  It’s getting harder every year to be on the front lines, working in the complaints department of life. .  I can only empathize with those who escaped communist countries and are here seeing their safety once again threatened,  Younger I was better at carrying on but older I find it harder to forget the stories of the victims of communism.  Hundreds of millions were murdered in the USSR and similar numbers by Mao in the communist cultural revolution which began as ‘cancel culture’ and ‘gag orders’.  Any doctor who disagreed with the horror of totalitarianism  was called schizophrenic and locked up in the Russian asylums. When I was a member of Canadian Civil Liberties and Psychiatrists against Political Abuse I heard so many first hand accounts,  Only a decade ago I was asked to go to China as a missionary psychiatrist meeting with Christian psychiatrists and hearing first hand the horrors of the Communist Chinese regime. 

Today my back hurts.  I fear its anger turned inward. I believe everything is psychosomatic.  I simply have to let go and let god and pray for my enemies,  I’ve found when I pray for my enemies I don’t want to do that so I stop thinking about them. It’s time, Trudeau doesn’t need anymore Fuddleduck Trudeau sentiment. Today I’ll start praying for him, He and his fanily do need prayers. Mostly I need to stop fighting everyone and everything,  I have to surrender and accept my position is overrun.  

Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil for thou aren’t with me,  

Hallelelujah!

Sunday, March 7, 2021

Soft Nightmares

Obviously they’re bad dreams. But they’re not quite nightmares.  Trapped and disturbing but not horrifying. I learned long ago to not get upset in a flurry and wake up. Mostly I just work my way through lucid dreaming, looking for a way out. Sometimes I wake up to restart.
There’s the poop dreams. I remember coming into the room on the ward and he’d smeared the room with his poop. It wasn’ t a one time experience. Others smeared themselves in poop.  Trying to hold them down to give them an injection, I’d be  trying to avoid the eye gouges. Wondering where to wash the clothes or discard them after. Wearing OR scrubs till I could get a new change.standing in showers clothed washing the poop out of the body curled on the floor in a fetal position. I was thankful for others, the nurses who did it mostly. I came and went. They lived with this day and day, night after night. I wasn’t always there.
Toilets in Africa and India. Shit everywhere. Outhouses in the north with shit everywhere. Their airport toilets where they squatted on the seats and never cleaned up the massive misses. Not a dribble. Shit everywhere. 
In my dream I can’t open a door because there’s shit on the door handle.  I’m in an institution like a college looking for a place to sit and all the toilet seats are covered in shit.  I want to shower but the shower is dirtier than I am.
I suppose a Freudian might suggest homosexual issues but anal sex isn’t same sex alone. There’s nothing sexual about the dreams. Pre sexual. Toilet training days. Maybe shame based. Primordial. Disturbing. Disappointing.  Frustrating. I often have the urge to go.  That need to pee or poop at night and eventually waking to use the toilet only to return to the poop dream. Searching for somewhere clean.  Dirty world dream.
I was in a room, a very nice room but the wall opened. The room was the perfect study call room, bed and desk and books.  Only the wall kept being pushed in by a party next door , drunks staggering into my space and I have to show them out and resecure the accordion wall.  Time and again. Trying to sleep on call and the noise of nursing stations and inability to find quiet.  The party in the next apartment. The guy sticking a butcher knife to my throat when I ask him to turn his stereo down at 4 am.  The cranked out psychotic addicts coming to my door and demanding I stop pounding on my ceiling or floor and I’m sleeping, trying to sleep. Years of begging for quiet and sleep. Now I’m back in those nights
My mentor is visitting, someone older and esteemed and they’re at the apartment, clothed in my idealization sand projections, inhuman perfection. butthere’s a cigarette, or dope or a vibrator or a banned book and I find it as they come in. I’m adjusting my fig leaf before God. If there’s a woman she’s always sassy with the Apple or terrified hiding behind me. The days my friends invited professors to stag parties and drunken birthday parties because they were outside the hierarchy and wanted to brush shoulders with the great men and women I knew. When I had compartmentalized worlds. I still have compartmentalized worlds. Facets of the diamond. Trying always to remember which are vegans and wearying of the work of pleasing the potters.
Long ago memories and the dreams that percolate through. I wonder about the nights like that.  Old nights with too much to drink or smoke and trying to be ‘normal’ and not being ‘normal’ and wanting to sleep and being at some social event with an ex or someone else and I’m supposed to be paying attention and my eyes are spinning in my head and I can’t stay awake. I’m so tired yet I’m in a dream and I can’t fall asleep. I wake and I can’ t fall asleep.  
Somewhere there’s a psychopath passing me. I see him and know. He’s a cannibal or a pedophile or a drug pusher and he’s passing through my room. I’ve not kept the door closed tight enough to keep the devil out and he’s okay with me. I’m immune but he’s using me to get to the innoscent and naive I know. He’s just a step a head of me in the dream and I’m intent on killing him to protect the children but he always has those in government or the police that protect him and I will go to jail if I hurt him and he’s always gloating.  Psychopaths looking over their shoulders laughing at me. I’m weak. I can take him but I can’t get at him because of all his protectors in high place. And I’m being held back from killing him or me or them or something I’ve alienated. The face laughing at me on the other side of the glass.
All is God and yet I must choose. I choose the good and it’s me a hit man in my dream and some innoscent looking with dismay at the service I’ve done. I’m covered in blood. I’ve saved a life and they’ve turned away disgusted with soldiers and surgeons.  Psychotic women living delusions and lies preferring their gilded cages and masters to freedom, antiseptic lives I’m playing in dirt, walking through the wild. I’m in those places only God knows. There’s no way but through here. The manure is fertilizer for the flowers. I’m delivering babies again. It’s not pretty and yet it is. 
 I’m walking away across deserts knowing the oasis is just a little further. The demons in the forest are afraid of me. The devil only catches stragglers. The war is won.  I’m alone longer than anyone I know. I’ve held on longer. And hold on another day. Then I’m among those again with discipline.  Our eyes meet and we know. It’s old souls and baby souls and out past the wire. It’s exclusive and inclusive. We’re waiting for the last one so we can all pass together into heaven. I worry I’m holding everyone up until I know it doesn’t matter.   Uncertainty.  I’m at the cross. I’m in the glade. I’m beneath the sea. I’m gliding on the wings of a bird.  I awake with lingering dreams and every emotion.  It takes a moment to realize I’m here again. In this life. 
And I wonder what the meaning is.  Always the dark side - shame, envy, remorse, resentment, fear. And it’s not important anymore. 
God loves me. I love God.  I used to spend days and nights on my knees or sitting cross legged years of prayer and meditation. I learned to slow my heart so it was as if I was dead, breathing so long and shallow that I was near to dead. My mind lit up and the presence of God and heaven palpable. I’ve talked with Jesus. Sat with saints. Been present in the most austere moments. And loved. Angels naked in my bed, the brilliance in flesh and light. The explosions of intimacy. I’ve known bliss in his world and out of this world. Now I’m just here. Mostly raising a puppy. Cleaning up his poop and pee and realizing that critics don’t know blood. They’ve lived pristine lives in little square and cubicles and are afraid. Who am I to judge. Live and let live.   It’s okay to be afraid. Existential angst. But Jesus did say , do not be afraid. There’s a main stream. I’m an outlier. I’m a guide or scout on the edge, riding point. The natives are mostly friendly.
There’s a place in my dreams where there a boat and a great sprawling luxury apartment complex. There’s a place where mothers sit at tables and drink tea and I’m a little boy crawling at their feat. There are white water rapids which I’m body surfing. There are intimate conversations with classical guitars and violins.  I’m with friends and we’re drinking coffee. The aromas of incense are in the air. A cello and a saxophone are being played. Ballet is danced. I’m in the embrace of the most beautiful and she is smiling and we Viennese waltz in clouds. The sun is rising with pink colours over a delicious rocky coast. 
I’m lost in some dreams, trying to find the way out of maizes encountering others desperate while I’m just plodding along, no longer afraid, just tired.  The journey seems forever then I remember to look at the details and it’s no longer about the arrival but about the journey.  
Sometimes my insides are not in my body but leaking out of me and I’m trying to put them back knowing it’s futile and letting myself slip into the horror passing through to another room.  Lucid dreaming, catching the fear, riding it like a wave. Adjusting the sails, praying for fair winds and following seas.  The lesson only seems to be .’this too will pass’. Walking in the fragrance of roses and gardens that go on for ever. The Holy Spirit and a princess.  I’m naming things.  Laughter in the sunlight.
Then I’m in poo and piss and blood and I can’t hold onto the tissue that keeps slipping from my fingers and there’s an artery spraying blood on my glasses blinding my eyes. The nurse is helping in one dream and in another she’s screaming like the Scream in horror and I’m alone without another pair of hands and the patient is awake and dying.  I’m unable to save every life and they come and go. I’m facing failures rarely but they’re all I think about. The successes are so easily forgotten. The comedy routine where they all don’t laugh. I m back on stage forgetting my lines. Then I’m in the embrace of a goddess whose name I’ve forgotten but I’m on that peninsula, my little bit of heaven where it’s safe and there are great white table  meals, like a five star hotel, and it’s clean.
I like that it’s clean.  I like fresh clothes. I’m in a rocket ship going from galaxy to galaxy and I love the view and I love the clean  clothes but  the air isn’t as fresh as the air by the mountain streams.  I’m climbing in the woods. Dogs are with me. Sometimes a cat. Mostly there are the occasional strangers.  I’m mostly alone and they’re passing happier somehow and I’m an outsider.
It’s after a major catastrophe and there are huge snakes underground and the avalanche has happened. Tectonic shifts of plates and whole cities have disappeared. I’m back watching the volcanic lava burning away everything in its path. I see the two drunken doctors ride by in their side car motorcycle. I’m admiring their insanity and joie to vie. I’m thinking and observing too much, trying to carefully get out of the mud, away from the crocodiles, snakes and predators, escaping to where I don’t know. I’m going one dream at a time.
Waking sometimes. Curious. Wondering what the hell was that about. It’s a long time now since the nightmares.  She says I don’t scream in my sleep any more. The feel of dead bodies doesn’t alarm me anymore.  I’m okay with that. I’m no longer grilled in the court house by the stupid shrill little girl with her memory books and pretty notes asking me detail of a far too different past. I’ve been there and I’m always reporting back to these people who fear reality and use me as a buffer but abuse me to cover their fear and stupidity. Hothouse plant girls and boys.  Monday morning quarterbacks.
I’m no longer fighting gangs of men in 10s and 20’s doing the bully pile on and feeling good about themselves. I’m not playing golf with the guy who pulls out a gun and shoots me because he doesn’t like my perfect shot. I don’t have these betrayals or stupid authorities or spiders . I’m shooting monsters with ray guns and hand guns. I’m piloting rocket ships. I have my own flitter and amphibious hovercraft. . I’m swimming under water with gils. 
It’s safer today. The sad dreams are like an old wound healed but with the poop and pustulence still oozing occasionally. I  carry on. This too will pass.  I know not to cling to the good. I look past the bad.  I sail from place to place. I’m unhappy with the poop, and piss and puss,  but it’s okay.  The blue skies, sunshine and starlets, puppies and kittens all reappear and I’m walking through green fields with a stave and good shoes.  This too will pass.  I’m learning. If only I can remember its an adventure. So much is perception. Practicing the presence.









Tuesday, April 21, 2020

April 21,2020, Tuesday, Sars-Cov-2, Covid 19, Quarantine

Thank you God for the blue sky and sunshine. Thank you for this cozy home. Thank you for my friend Gilbert.  Thank you for improving his cough. We both sound like old men in the morning. Thank you for clothing and fashion and style. Thank you for hair stylists and nail salons. Thank you for factories and warehouse and truckers. Thank you for space ships.  Thank you for planets and stars.
I am blessed to know you God. Unseen miracle of grace.  I am the bubble make me the sea. You are the potter I am the clay. Thy will be done not my will. May my will grow in wisdom to be your will.  Guide me. Holy Spirit come.
Help family and friends be safe. Let us all know the glory of this story. Let us all laugh together one day in a green room. Thank you for the movie. Thank you for the adventure.  
This Covid 19 intrigue gets better and better. Why did Cuomo ban Hydroxychloroquine? What is the deep state? Why does Trudeau hate Canadians and the west especially so much.
What can I do today to forgive more, Lord. Help me to love not fear. Help me to know you more dearly, see you more clearly.
May the long time sunshine always surround you and The pure light within you guide your way home?
Communism ,the religion of godlessness and atheism is a gangster thing, a throw back to feudal times. There’s Islam too a religion of a warrior god with a history of constant war and jihad celebrated by all.  These two have linked arms and embraced in the U.N. and WHO.  What of liberty and democracy and the God of Love.  Where is there ‘forgiveness’ in either?
Why does Trudeau hate me. I don’t like him. Is that sufficient explanation? Perhaps. He remains my nightmare, the elite, privileged, stupid, grandiose, ignorant, hedonist, selfish, lying, drug abusing, hypocrite.   
Where is my Christian faith when I look at him, today’s Mussolini type reincarnation to the Xi Jinping Hitler reincarnation in some bizarro Joseph Campbell recurring myth of forces of good and evil. What am I doing other than observing and criticizing. Politics the intellectual sports match.  This side and that side. Quebec versus the rest of Canada. Republican and Democrat dichotomy in the US.  
What would Jesus want of me. I do care for the little one. I do daily acts of good will. I am caring and loving in my personal life. But what of this Kardasian reality TV show the media has twisted and thrown up portraying the Trump father figure as evil, the drunken unforgiving Pelosi as wise and Trudeau the deviant child as somehow ‘cute’.  These people are like the gods and goddesses of the Greek and Roman era. All above my pay grade. All horribly affecting me personally with their moodiness and insanity. Why did Cuomo ban the penicillin of this Covid 19 pandemic.  Hydroxychloroquine is proven to be the miracle drug and the Democrats ban it despite it saving the lives of tens of thousands.  What is this Agatha Christie plot.
Communist China releases a virus from the Wuhan lab by stupidity or intent and then lies and cover ups and with the complicity of the corrupt WHO unleashes this pandemic on the planet. Is this really an ‘unconventional war’ like the communists have always waged?  Their own release, the fentanyl epidemic making the communists of China rich. The crime boss of Communist countries is the Central Communist committee
What am I supposed to figure from this mystery?  The atheists question our faith in the mystery but they accept the ‘saniety’ of these story called politics in which Virtue Signalling Trudeau condemns hunters and women who own guns while the day before selling 14 billion arms to Saudi Arabia after giving the Wuhan Lab which killed Canadians so many millions. The ISIS terrorists find sanctuary here after killing our allies and we as a country thanks to Quebec and the scab voters are now aligned with China.
Does it matter Lord. Should I care?  Even my own family supports Trudeau because he pays more to the east. If I was in the east I suppose I’d support this silliness too. The unions supported the NDP because they paid the Union. Politics always a matter of strange bedfellows.
I talk each day now to people going crazy alone listening to the CBC, People’s Daily propaganda channel and not making any sense of what is being told them because George Carlin was right, we are just owned and we’re taught we are more than peasants. Some of us are a better class of peasant.  But our leaders vacation with helicopters on lavish islands surrounded by guns and easy women who give their children for the sexual pleasures. 
Intrigue and more intrigue. 
It’s a mess.
Now you Lord are pure and light. I look to you and there is only one way. You are one. The one becomes many.  All the bits of the universe come back to The young Big Bang creator, hallelujah, joy and wonder and all.  Never let me forget you. Help me always see you as my lighthouse, my lodestar.  May I lift my head high and not get lost in the maze of myriad muddle.  The lies of diversity. The slogans of running dog hypocrites. How funny their language is.  I love  dogs but ‘running dogs’ is such a metaphor to a people who starving and poor were set on once by packs because their leaders didn’t feed them.  Now my leadership doesn’t give me an xbox.  I want a spaceship. I need to get off this planet.  But I’ll settle for going outside.
We are in prison and the warden isn’t even letting us walk in the yard. There are two groups now. Those who want this quarantine to continue till fall and see the death and disease of poverty destroy the west with greater destruction than this disease threatened and those who want to go shopping, work and camp and lie out in the woods listening to crickets.
It’s a strange time. I don’t know. The thing could have been written by Tolstoy. So many characters and a stream of consciousness twitter plot right out of sci fi. I imagine that the last crisis of the banks was cocaine and escort driven, the great Goldman Sachs orgy and government bail out but this is more LSD. They are doing hallucinogens in Washington Paris, Ottawa and Beijing.  Everyone getting together and dropping acid.
Joe Bidden is groping another child and I can’t say the word ‘fuck’ without paying a millions dollars and having my precious time stolen by the Borg .  I must love more, resent less, and be thankful. Yes God, you are good. And this is just strange.  Thank you Jesus. I certainly can relate to a carpenter who got it in the neck for talking love and peace around the Romans.  The Romans of your day were like the Communists of today.  Military tough.
 I’m Klinger. I want to wear dresses and lingerie.  I’m old and soft. I play the Monty Python sketch over and over again, “Always look on the bright side of life”.
I’ve fought bullies all my life and now I’m just waiting to die.  I don’t think this was a good movie. I think the plot and characterization were muddled. Too much reactive acting and too much knee jerk and panic.  I with I had the time and budget but the elite have the time and the budget and they’re creating B grade porn.  Help me write a poem I can be thankful for.  Let this day be a good day and help me to channel thy love and peace.  
Hallelujah. Thank you Jesus. 



Friday, June 28, 2019

46 - 50 years old SV Giri, Vancouver, Saipan, Chinatown

I’d just witnessed my truck stolen and sold without papers. I was chccking the auto sales periodically wondering about this. I wasn’t doing the same for my sailboat.  As far as I knew  the sailboat, in my name, was in Guaymos where I’d left it.  I simply happened to buy a sailboat magazine and there was the SV Giri up for sale.  It had illegally been taken back from Mexico without my consent.  It had illegally been put up for sale without my consent. I’d had all my money moved from my account and I’d signed $50,000 loan with her and a lawyer for ‘our’ business but that money had not gone into the business and  presumably up her nose.  She still had millions, the process of divorce showing the tens of millions she had squirrelled away and how through our marriage we’d mostly  used only ‘my money’, and for the most part I was working when she wasn’t and I was being paid as a doctor and she was paid as a student.

I was chivalrously taking the fall for her. We’d tried to protect her name sending her to San Diego for treatment. Now I was getting beat up for 2 very important reasons.
1. I’d offended the people who own the Indigeous land of Vancouver in the Jack Cram case
2. I’d reported the son of a famous Jewish family for abuse of power and sodomizing me.
I felt the ‘pay back’ was mostly to do with the latter but couldn’t be certain. I’d been told by the Jewish psychiatrist to ‘stop talking about your professor’. 
3. I was divorcing a rich educated woman. Men were always wrong in divorce. 

Now my boat was taken by my ex and I stopped blaming myself.

I believe that everything is ‘God and me.”  I spent years studying ‘determinism and fate versus free will’.  Most people say it’s ‘fate’ when bad things happen to them and ‘free will’ when good things happen. I don’t deserve bad but I deserve good is the prevailing logic. The thinking is very sloppy.  I also believe in the one becoming many and the many becoming one. We’re all interconnected.
She had caused an ‘unnecessary death’.  I’d reported a person who had done that but I’d covered for her negligence and her drug abuse. I’d managed her patients repeatedly when she was not at work. I’d repeatedly corrected her mistakes.  She had been grossly unreliable but had moments of brilliance. Off drugs she was depressed.  She had terrible mood swings.  Now to my mind she’d stollen my sailboat.  I’ve never hit a girl. I’ve never fought with girls or women. My friends said I lost a lot not having a sister and learning how mean they can be.  I was a ‘gentleman’ who used the ‘fuck’ word but otherwise believed in the code of chivalry.

Feminists were turning the code of chivalry against men, taking it for themselves when it served them, then using it against men.  They were classic borderlines crying to be treated as little girls and rescued only to turn into homicidal maniacs attacking when they didn’t get their way.  The key thing with borderlines is that they need to be in control and will manipulate with threat of suicide and when that doesn’t work will become homicidal or vice versa.  Attacking they will then switch to suicidal response.  The  suicidal bomber response is borderline on a larger scale. “ I’m a victim,” they say, “ that’s why I’ve a ton of C4 wrapped around my waist. I come in peace, but I’m wearing a bomb vest.  I love you. It is better that we die together than you should live.”

My wife had almost got us killed a dozens times and almost got me killed many more. 

Seeing my boat up for sale I snapped inside. This was just not right.  I called my lawyer and she said ‘you’re right, it wasn’t right.”  My lawyer, Stephanie was one of the most beautiful pure souls I’d ever have the benefit to know. I loved to watch her mind move with Godly precision. She was Dr. Lam’s friend and the two of them were so humble and gracious, it was like being in the presence of one of Jesus’s original disciples.”      

Since we were in a divorce property in dispute could not be disposed of for profit.

I phoned the salesman and found that the boat had already been sold for pittance to a fellow in Alberta I recognized as a relative of hers. I phoned him.

“Hi I’m Captain Bill I understand I’m coming to live with you.”
“Who is this?
“I’m Captain Bill.  I’m the skipper of the SV Giri and I understand you’re buying this boat and moving it to Alberta. I just wanted you to be perfectly clear that that is my boat regardless of anything you might have heard and I will go with that boat where ever it goes. Buying the boat is a package deal. The boat and I go together.”
“How did you get this number.”
“I don’t think that matters. I just thought you’d appreciate a phone call before I come with the boat to Alberta.’ 

That day the gentleman cancelled the ‘quick deal.”  I’ve heard of women selling their husbands ferrarri’s out of spite, destroying millions of dollars of property out of spite. This was ‘spite’. My ex didn’t want the boat and certainly didn’t need the boat and had been willing just then to sell the $150,000 boat for $10,000 .

The vendor was displeased. I’d spoken to him.  It was on the lot where I’d done all the repairs on the boat and everyone knew me and were positively inclined towards me. No one had seen my ex. 

My friend Bill Gyles thought it best to take the boat.  Possession was 90% of the law it seemed.  It was on indigenous land. I had the ownership papers. I got a call from Bill Gyles and Dr. George. They wanted to use my credit card to get an outboard motor. I gave them the numbers.

“Best you not be here. “ Bill said. “ We’ll take care of things. The vendor wants his percent of sale and had an underhanded agreement with you ex. Apparently he was involved in the movement of the boat and now wants to hold onto the boat to get more money. He really didn’t have any ‘rights’ except through her and she had no ‘ownership. Ownership and authority was with me the Skipper and owner.  Further the natives apparently didn’t like this sleazy businessman. 

A marvellous native man who worked for the marina and band ,  moved the boat. I thought that fitting.  Bill and his ‘sponsee’ with Dr. George’s moral support and the letter of ownership from my lawyer faxed to the marina, had picked up the boat and put it in the water. Bill then used  the outboard took the boat out to sea.  

He said the ‘movement” had caused the lock on the door to ‘fall off’. It must have been lost overboard.  Dr. George and Bill and I have a picture of triumph somewhere.  I had my home back. I’d lived on the SV Giri for years and would continue to live on it for another decade.  She got the Shaughnassey mansion and swimming pool that was half mine and I just wanted my boat and as far from her chaos as I could be.  I understood she was sick and toxic but I couldn’t survive anymore in her world of anger and drug abuse.  She had no desire for sobriety and was continuing to lie. 

I was so thankful for all the family physicians who’d referred to me previously. They referred to me again. I had a full practice within weeks with a waiting list of months.  

One after another Jewish and Gentile family physicians phoned me to say, “we heard there was something wrong but we’re just glad you’re well and over it and ‘would you see this patient ‘again’ or ‘would you see this new patient’.  Initially I’d been called ‘anti Semitic’ for reporting the sexual abuse but this “ad hominem’ accusation against me was dropped within months.  

“I believe he was sleeping with students,” a Jewish psychiatrist colleague shared with me. “ We know now there’s others but they won’t come forward.  “.   I certainly couldn’t blame the Jewish community for circling the wagons when one of theirs was attacked given the wide spread anti semetism.  I was thankful to see that they were more than just a tribal group but adhered to a higher power of truth.   

The College assistant registrar had said I’d hurt countless people in my practice, implying wrong medical and psychiatric decisions and orders.  I tediously and methodically reviewed every file and found that now I was ‘officially sober’ I’d not have made any decision in any way differently in the past. The College Assistant registrar had lied and I’d almost killed myself based on this psychotic sociopaths deceitful abuse of power.  

It was only further possible to confirm  the sociopath in the College of Physicians and Surgeons of BC when I applied for other work and different positions. Then I’d hear that this person had illegally bad mouthed me to the skies , all manner of character assassination. ‘They sounded like they were on drugs. Phoned us at night. Whenever we asked what had he;d done wrong clinically they had nothing to say.” I

The universal response to this ‘character assasination’ and the unprofessionalism of the College of Physicians and Surgeons of BC was that ‘you must be the greatest clinician alive to survive with that amount of animosity against you and no solid evidence for their venom.”

A doctor with the Canadian Medical Protective Association said, “You’re the most persecuted doctor in Canada.”

I was thankful because the CMPA would defend my practice there after. Each of these ‘complaints’ would cost me $50,000 in loss of time, reviewing records, meeting with lawyers and then meeting with the College  which on occasion seemed like it was more impaired than any physician I’d ever known.  I concluded that the ‘selection bias’ that resulted in these doctors being chosen was the weak link in the process. There was also a move towards communism and the destruction of the professions.  Increasingly ‘political correctness’ or ‘cultural Marxism’ was the basis of the complaints.

Doctors could kill patients so long as they didn’t ‘swear’.

I refused to see a Jewish patient because she said her ex husband was ‘unforgiveable’. She demanded she see me because I was a Christian doctor and she’d converted to Christianity.  Her previous Jewish psychiatrists had totally sided with the husband and said that she was psychotic and schizophrenic. I didn’t know this at the time. I give everyone the benefit fo the doubt.  

The key issue of Christianity is ‘forgiveness’.  Christians are taught ‘judgement is the Lords’.  When she insisted that her ex husband was unforgiveable and that she refused to take medication there was nothing more that I could do.  She was not ‘treatable’ with the Christian form of ‘insight psychiatherapy:  I had trained extensively as a psychoanalytic psycoatherapist. Christian psychiatric psychotherapy is  a specific type of psychotherapy which aims at a person seeing this as a lesson in forgiveness and how they can move forward leaving the judgement to God.   

She was simply not  ‘open minded’ and by change standards ‘’not open to change.’  We use medication therapy specifically for patients untreatable with psychological treatments because they don’t perceive anything wrong with themselves anyway but may take medication as it ameliorates the anxiety. . Her narcissism was a problem as well.  She was ‘all right’ and ‘ex was all wrong’. I normally make a decision as to whether a person is a psychotherapy candidate in 1 to 3 sessions. I kept trying to see if she had any capacity for empathy or to see that the other person might have human failings.  A characteristic of psychosis is ‘black and white thinking’.  “I”m right , you’re wrong’ .  To be a psychoanalytic psychotherapy candidate you must be willing to ‘reconsider’ your point of view.  She wasn’t . She was ‘fixed’ in her belief she was all right and her husband was all wrong. Further she wanted ‘vengeance’.  

I’d spend hours with my brilliant Orthodox Jewish friend Doctor Sam debating this role of ‘vengeance’ and  ‘forgiveness ’ in spirituality.     I’d later attend Regent College and finally hear Dr. James Houston say ‘this is where the Jews are wrong and Christians and Jew’s are not in agreement” . There’s a tendency to mush differences in the strive for multiculturalism.  There are differences and the devil surely is in the details. JudeoChristian, Judaism and Christianity are all separate constructs. 

I discussed the issue of this woman’s position with other Christian Doctors’ and got back what I believed .that she was nominally Christian because she’d married a ‘born again’ Christian but did not embrace the trinity of God or the fundamental idea of Jesus on the cross saying “forgive them for they know not what they do.”

So according to secular psychiatry she was not amenable to psychoanalytic psychotherapy, could get ‘counselling’ which I wasn’t doing or even ‘supportive psychotherapy ‘ which I wasn’t doing much of at the time. I was focussed on insight oriented psychotherapy and selecting patietns specifically for this change focused therapy and offering a service only psychiatrists were trained in and was strongly acknowledged as critical and beneficial for patients . There als was ‘medication therapy’, psychopharmacology’ and I provided that with supportive psychotherapy but this only required visits every 3 - 6 months .Weekly visits and twice weekly visits were strictly insight psychotherapy visits or crisis. The patient was very demanding and bullying and showed no capacity for change. 

She demanded everything. I said I couldn’t provide it.

She complained to the College of Physicians and Surgeons that I used the ‘fuck’ word.  The irony was that she demanded that the College force me to see her. However the College had no real interest in her complaint or her design but as always took the opportunity to punish doctors in general and me in particular.   The prime minister used the ‘fuck’ word. Books had been written about it.  Jesus used ‘bad language’ in his day speaking as the fishermen and workers spoke. One of the traits of psychopaths and sociopaths is that they look good on the outside. Appearances are easy to change Psychopaths are reptilian developmentally lacking true emotional development but having excellent chameleon capabilities. I like using the ‘fuck’ word.  It’s like Jesus saying “shit’.  

The College said it was unprofessional.  The Jewish CMPA lawyer defended me against the Jewish Christian and the Communist College. Every visit to the College is like a Monty Python meeting with folk who spend their days practicing funny walks.  They ‘s always  seeme to object to my accusing a Jewish Psychiatrist of sodomizing me during my residency and doing drugs with me to achieve his end.  They ‘d seem to be serving the financial elements in the city and courts who held  a grudge against me for saying that Jack Cram was not psychotic. They had hoped when they were unable to destroy him completely with character assasination to list him as ‘schizophrenic’ and ‘psychotic’ .   I didn’t make my self any more attractive by advocating for chiefs who had been sodomized in the residential school affairs which had avoided looking at the administrators who were involved. 

The term ‘invalid’ is tied to the idea of ‘invalidation’.  If a president is psychotic or even diagnosed schizophrenic they’d certainly take the black box for starting nuclear war away from him.

We’ve seen this rise in ‘ad hominem’ the last 20 years. It was always used in ‘communist’ countries saying that a person ‘wasn’t true to the communist party’.  So if you steal a million from the crown rather than discuss your theft the idea is to ‘kill the messenger’.  

This Jewish lawyer, fairly secular, didn’t understand any of the Christian discussion but he defended my license and ability to work. There’s been concern about the lawyers ‘appeasement’ but their mandate has not been ‘right or wrong’ but rather to protect the good doctors ability to maintain an income. They’ve been excellent in this regard.  It’s all  about plea bargaining. It’s so often a horrible medical outcome and horrendous public health but it’s probably good ‘law’ as the ‘law’ is not about ‘justice’ but about ‘money’.  Everyone gets rich and compromises are the norm.  

I’ve only been able to practice because the other issue with the College of Physicians and Surgeons is ‘favouritsm’ and the ‘appearance of doing their job’.  So like the police who catch jay walkers they can honestly say they were working but the murderers are getting off all the time. Everyday we’d see horrendous health care but the College would rightly be able to say they were saving the world from Dr. Hay who you know said the word ‘fuck’.  

I’ve been told that ‘we are a sick as our secrets’ and I’ve adopted a rule of ‘transparency’ because I’ve seen the disease in the college behind the closed doors shit.  At one point I used a ‘freedom of information’ request and saw my file,  “the most heavily redacted file in government history’. I think they call them their ‘black books’ because there’s nothing left to read, everything redacted.    It was right out of Monty Python.  A box of blacked out files as if I was a national security risk. Nothing exposes the depth of the corruption of the government agency than the redaction which had nothing to do with protecting patients but solely blacked out all the ‘doctor hay is a fucking piece of shit’ that had apparently been used behind closed doors because I questioned their premises.  A person told me that in the midst of my trial on the ‘unprofessionalism’ of the ‘fuck’ word, a College member liked to refer to me as “that fucking piece of shit.’  The hypocricy in the quasilegal authorities is profound.   

Just to get the “black file” I had to devote the equivalent in time and requests of $100,000. The government has endless resources of tax payer money.  
I have a job to do and a real life, not something petty and putrid like the dirty conniving petty administion but real, like giving hope and saving lives.  

I’d befriend Dugald Christie in church .  We were attending a service where the minister was particularly biblical and enlightened. The theological discourse was enriched. We’d spend hours together thereafter comparing psychiatry and law, discussing Jesus and the call to service, justice and divine justice, God,  the atheism of communism, Secularism and the bastardization of secularism by the aetheism.We used metaphors like Satan and both loved C.S.Lewis. Screwtape Letters is the best description of the modern day devil or demonic.  Mostly Satan rules today  working through corrupt bureaucracy. 

Dugald had started the pro bono legal service for falsely accused. He’d defend the poor and had ridden his bicycle to the Supreme Court burning his robes on the stairs to highlight the ‘lack of justice ‘ and ‘lack of legal service’ for the poor.  He’d co opt me to come to the jails with him and write legal reports for patients . It was so sad to see these men who’d had forensic psychiatrists write reports ‘against’ them and they’d not been able to ‘afford psychiatric consultation’.  I wrote the reports and Dugald got them the proper services, usually drug and alcohol treatment and a change of sentencing in some way.  It was apparent to my self and Dugald confirmed this that ‘poor people’ fell through the cracks. He was however a great defender of the BC Courts. 

“I’ve only asked you to see a few cases because the courts do a really good job over all. I’m proud to be a lawyer and just don’t like the way money ensures justice for the rich but lack of money results in poor people not having ‘access’ to the ‘court system.’

Like me he had seen that the BC Judges were collectively great.  While I’d seen how family law fucked over families and children I’d actually been impressed with  Criminal and property law in BC. Mostly the judges were really good.  It seems the evil lay in the politics. At the time the Supreme Court Judge from BC was advocating for transparency.  PM Harper would eventually institute transparency in the native affairs only to find so many chiefs were stealing the band’s money and setting up off shore accounts. Immediately PM Justin Trudeau took office he stopped transparency which certainly served a number of wealthy powerful corrupt chiefs. 

The politics of indigenous law and land cases continued to make lawyers rich beyond imagination but ‘justice’ marched on.  I’d seen in my own divorce that my ex and her lawyer were willing to use millions to ‘stonewall’ and deny me a ‘decision’.  My ex so sadly befuddled by drugs and insaneity and vengefulness would have continued the case for ever but thankful my lawyer. Stephanie heard me say I just want my boat and to be free of her. I can’t live her suicidal and homicidal and mood swings and anger and lying. 

I’d told my wife before I left, I can see hundreds of patients or I can see you but I can’t do both. If I was to work as a psychiatrist I had to have some oasis of saneity. Alone with my dog I was fine. Living with an active cocaine addict and a liar was impossible. I felt badly I was a lesser man and hoped she’d  find help or someone wealthy enough for her needs and working some emotionally  undemanding field or independent enough to devote their lives to what I’d come to view as a princess and overgrown adolescent. She was great as a drinking and drugging buddy and good for fun and sports but when it came to ‘work’ she’d just stay in bed, or not show up or do cocaine instead of being present.

It was my fault though that we began smoking dope again in Cabot San Lucas.  I was offered a joint by a Mexican Indian and asked her if we should do it. I wasn’t going to do it alone but she lit up to see it and the next months we’d be back to smoking a joint a day. We’d actually had 3 months without it and she’d not done cocaine since we left Victoria.  We were technically detoxed when this little Indian man offered me a joint. HE didn’t even speak English just handed it to me in the pub.  We liked smoking dope together and we loved sharing a bottle of wine. It would be our pattern during the time we were in Mexico. Another boater had found a bushel of dope floating at sea and gladly sold us a little bit which kept us supplied in Columbian.

So here I was a year sober.  I’d not done drugs and alcohol for a year and really felt I had my ‘wits about me.’ Most importantly I had a whole network of doctors around the world and new friends in the province who were themselves no longer drinking and a whole networks of Christian friends.  I was no longer isolated by my shame about homosexuality and being sodomized.  I even had a homosexual priest and a homosexual doctor I discussed sexuality with on a personal basis.  I was no longer isolated by the shame of addiction. I had learned to ‘ask for help’, ‘consult’, ‘call me’.  Dr. Bernie was the best. Made me phone him each week ‘just to check in . It will get you in the habit of picking up the phone.  You’ll then know how to do it when you need it.”

I’ll never forget the time I phoned him and I was simply ‘catatonic’.  I don’t even remember what the ‘crisis’ was . I just remember that I was ‘frozen’ . I was so sad and angry and tired I was again experiencing  ‘incomprehensible demoralization” and yet I was months sober at the time. It probably had to do with some combination of College of Physicians and Surgeons, banks and my ex with all her histrionics and her lying lawyer.  

Bernie heard the tone of utter defeat in my voice and told me to come over. He gave me coffee in his townhouse.  Then he picked up his banjo and played and sang “how great thou art’.  I was in total despair and began to cry. When he had finished his song I wiped my tears, thanked him and said I knew I had to trust in God and would carry on.  Things just got better. I stayed sober mainly by asking for help. Rather than pick up the bottle or light a joint I’d phone Dr. Willi or Dr. Bernie or Hank or Ray or Graham or Art  or Peter or Kirk or any number of angels I had about me now that I accepted that addiction was ‘false relationship’ and ‘false god’ and that God acted through people.  

When the College of Physician and Surgeon’s psychiatrist had asked me what I wanted, I’d said “I just want my wife clean and sober. I want her to be in a program of recovery.”  He’d said , “Women don’t go to AA and women don’t do well in recovery.’  He was a chauvinist who gave all the power to men and believed that women’s problems and solutions were all outside themselves and totally depended on him. To hear him talk though you’d never know that. He was all about the ‘little woman’.  He called himself a feminist and I’m sure he was in the worst way.

I had to come to terms with the idea that I couldn’t ‘help everyone’ and that in the triangle of relationships the other had a major part.

The College of Physicians and Surgeons were solely advocates for patietns and saw their role not as helping patients but as punishing doctors and protecting patients from bad doctors. This was destroying medicine along with all the other ‘divide and conquer’ tricks of the declining administration.   Administration was solely into control and dominance and centralizing authority as communists always do.  The Canadian ‘federation’ was wholly different from this but this systemic problem had infiltrating the ranks of professions big time.

I had friends in law societies,  engineering societies, and accounting societies and it was common that the destruction of the ‘self regulating’ and ‘independent ‘ profession was occurring,  just like the “communist play book’ demanded. I’d just end up in the midst of these forces which as Christians we called ‘principalities’.  The whole metaphor of demonic and the struggle between ‘right and wrong’ was real since the ‘propaganda’ and competing corporations with aims for world dominance of markets was obvious.

I like to think I was just doing my job but often I’d be pulled into the melee by a patient wrongly persecuted by the system. The normal psychopharmacoalogical response was to ‘blame the victim’. The nonepecific diagnosis of ‘’bipolar II’ which allowed use of all the pharmacopeia and had no clear boundaries was used to subsume ‘adjustment disorder ‘and all the stress disorders such as ‘acute stress disorder’ and ‘post traumatic stress disorder’. Further everyone with addiction or those in recovery for less than a year ‘appeared like’ ‘bipolar II’ so more ‘blame the victim’.  More medication invalidation and silencing. I’d be asked to see the patient and literally word diagnosis ‘grief’ or ‘drug addiction ‘or ‘ptsd’ when someone had negligently diagnsed’ only as having  “mood disorder’.  If a person wasn’t depressed by their situation they would have been stark raving mad instead yet by restricting the terms of reference of the assessment to ‘junior neurology’ the psychiatrists who was supposed to be a bio, psycho, social clinician, could avoid the heavy lifting of doing more than just asking the question what drug did the patient need.  Everyone was bipolar.  They  making themselves rich as friends of the pharmaceutical companies in league with government and College of Physicians and Surgeons in what was increasingly defined as a ‘consumer model of health care’. It was medical negligence to consistently ‘miss’ the diagnosis of ‘drug and alcohol abuse” , PTSD, neuropsychiatric disorder, trauma, brain injury yet no one was looking at that.  Millions of dollars of resources however could be allegated at the drop of a hat when doctor hay said the word ‘fuck’.  

Thanks to great lawyers and great judges I’d be in court on behalf of my patients saying that their being shot at repeatedly in war zones as combat veterans entitled them to the ‘compensatable diagnosis ‘ of PTSD and that they were not simply blame the victim  ‘bipolar ii’.  I was blessed to work with a truly wise and compassionate military physician who referred veterans to me who had been denied compensation because the government especially in Eastern Canada did less for the west and there was an ongoing disregard and disrespect for Vets. The vary fee for doing these kinds of reports was literally half what specialists received doing ‘real work’. No one liked paper work so by default the voterans were screwed. I spent hours doing reports for the veterans, my time pro bono, and felt that I was doing this for my dad an RCAF vet who’d I ‘d want treated as I treated people with respect and thoroughness. I never lied. I simply filled in the forms , the long way, the way that the military accountants and chair warmers demanded. It was really time consuming but at the tend of the day the military physician told me we’d been able to move millions of dollars out of eastern canada to the vets in western canada. It was just a matter of a psychiatrist filling in all the boxes. Really. All these people needed was for us to do as the military told .  I couldn’t believe how many people simply didn’t accept the authority that the vets were under so that authority rejected the claim because the psychologists and other doctors had simply not done exactly as they were told because it was ‘silly’ and it was ‘time consuming’ and there was no funding for ‘the details’.  

As my work had been focused on ‘noncompliance ‘ and I accepted that who paid the piper called the tune I worked for less and served my patients. Helping vets who were due compensation for their service was one of the best parts of my work at the time.  The vets were truly mature and wonderful people collectively.  I loved the military too when you simply did as you were told. It wasn’t rocket science.  

I continued to live on my sailboat and continued to sail with my dog every weekend  I’d leave harbour Friday afternoon and return Sunday afternoon in all weather and all conditions. I especially loved crossing the Strait of Georgia when the ferries were grounded and shipping had stopped. I was becoming adept as a solo sailor and just loved getting away from the city on the weekends and holidays. I’d sail solo in the glorious Broken Islands on the west coast of Vancouver Island,  catch a freezer full of salmon. I was always catching salmon and lingcod and making the most amazing Boullibaises and barbecued fish.

Despite the evil College of Physicians and Surgeons in the background I was loving my career. I’d made friends a number of Addiction Medicine doctors in the US. A number of my friends who were psychiatrists there had also done Addiction Medicine. The Addiction Psychiatry wasn’t reommended. Those who had that designation at the time told me.

“Addiction Medicine is about treatment of whole patients. It’s recovery focused and bio psycho social.”
“Addiction psychiatry is dominated by the pharmaceutical industry and solely interested in finding medicine to give to addicts.’  An organization ‘like minded doctors’ would eventually form to provide balance and express concern for the vulnerable patents.  

When I asked the general practitioner at the College of Physicians and Surgeons who claimed to be the leading authority in addiction medicine in BC what her credentials were she showed me.  “The Addiction Psychiatry people gave me a ‘Honary Degree’ .  I really think you should train with them and get a speciality like I have.”  She was stark raving mad and didn’t know that her ‘honary degree’ wasn’t a reall degree like the ones I had in Psychiatry, addiction medicine, Medical Review OFficer, American and Canadian degrees, expert witness Canada and the US and a decade of sobriety myself.  She was truly starkers , bat shit crazy. I would on behalf of myself and patients present her with the leading research and papers to support this and her only response was ‘anybody can write any opinion’.  She was ignorant of science and discredited all research. 

I actually ask another general pratictioner from the College, as communists collectively elevated the untrained and inexperienced to play to their grandiosity and ensure their loyalty. She was a gp who claimed to teach psychiatrists and other than a general practice degree claimed her credential was that her son was a psychiatrist. I was was taken aback to say the least to hear this when she was supposed teaching ‘boundaries’ to psychiatrists.  I was thankful that the CMP lawyers told me that the College had severe problems with boundaries and I learned that their own internal counsel had filed suit against them for abuse of power, the case being decided like all such cases ‘behind closed doors’ with no ‘transparency’ and I would suggest if the files were released under the freedom of information act they would more black books because of almost complete redaction to protect the college members abuses and unprofessionalism. 

We were all concerned about these shifts in the recovery community because the ‘pill solution’ had been the downfall of addiction.  Now I actually had colleagues telling me “You know Dr. Hay, you’re one of the best clinicians I know in working with addiction but you’re not on the same page as us. You want your patients off drugs and we just want our patietns off the street drugs and coming to us for the drugs. Our drugs are better and safer whereas the street supply is not.”

I’d be asked to investigate the leading ‘government supported’ addiction society at the time.  The NDP were actually involved in the multi million dollar adventure. The head of the Portland Hotel Society said .” We don’t want a doctor to ‘interfere with the culture of addiction’. We want a doctor who will help addicts get stuff but not stop their addiction. You seem intent on stopping their addiction. We respect this as a ‘cultural choice’.  “

I’d be drug tested ad infintum to the point where the addiction doctors wrote a letter to the College of Physicians and Surgeons saying that “There is no clinical or medical reason for drug testing doctor Hay. If you wish to continue to use this as punishement then you will have to write the orders yourself.”

I’d fire a secretary who was using my office computer to develop porn pictures and stealing from my office and smoking crystal meth on breaks so patients complained to me.  She was saying racist things against East Indians and just became increasingly bizarre. My mother had died and the minister who’d brought this girl in to help her had taken her pay but done no work. My accountant at the time either had a nervous breakdown or a drug psychosis but threw his clients files out on the street showing up on the cover of the local newspaper. With my staff not doing any billing and stealing from me and my accountant psychotic I was truly thankful that the Bank of Nova Scotia manager told me that my accountant was lying saying he was working with him. He said he felt badly because the government had garnisheed my account at that moment because I’d done as my accountant said exactly only to have him carried away in a wagon after appearing on the front page of the newspaper. He was the accountant to the head of medicine and countless other doctors and I couldn’t blame my self for the decision. Thanks to the bank manager I realized CRA had been surprisingly correct and truthful and I gladly paid them what they wanted because it turned out my staff had done none of the work they said they had. It took a month to sort all this out but my mother was dying and I had literally no money and had to borrow money for an air ticket to see her before she died because while I had tens of thousands the office  administrator, this recent graduate minister,  and the accountant and the ganisheeing of my active bank account resulted in my having no ‘cash’.  I contacted my accountant friend and my brother and they lead me through the amazing mess the Christian Minister Administrator had done in 3 months with her thieving psychopath wing man.  I ‘found’ the ‘$30,000’ dollars money and sorted matters out with the CRA who were really very helpful.  

It was a difficult time for me manageing a medical practice with these glorious nut bars playing greedy games and me trying to keep my patients from suiciding and homiciding while the children got their money and stole mine.

I fired the secretary who then complained to the college and as my CMPA lawyer pointed out the College lacks ‘boundaries’ and don’t seem to acknowledge this is just a case of ‘disgruntled employee’ . The police showed she was stealing. She’d said in a letter ‘give me $5000 or I’ll accuse you of sexual harrassment’.  Well damned if any woman could accuse any man in Canada over night of ‘sexual harrassment’ and the man was like all communist countries ‘guilty until proven inoscent’.  There was no ‘innoscent until proven guilty’ now in the matriarchal communist country Canada had become.  The CMPA fought the College for me. I was vindicated as always but I was subjected to see the most frightful image I’d ever see to this day. I’d never  get it out of my head and have about this Methusalah.  .

This female doctor, assistant registrar, a bureaucrat, highly paid, and with outrageous power stood  screaming at me  in a board room, “Women don’t lie about sex!!!! Dr. Hay.”  

The College was clearly more psychotic than my patients.  I paid the extortionist psychopath her $5000 and learned that dozens of doctors had been hit up when they fired women from the work place. One man with dozens of psychologists working for him said the ‘going rate is $1000 , we pay it as a price of doing business. There’s no sexual harrassment but they know they can extort the money because the cost of fighting it was so much.”

“I put $50,000 of my time and staff time I paid into proving that her claims were all famous, many  made when I was out of town, when witnesses showed she was lying, there were even patients who said she’d said she wanted to have sex with them and would but she had a boyfriend a psychopath who kept threatening to kill me waiting for me outside offices. HE was wiener so I just ‘please make my day’. I did object though to the government allowing this violent sociopaths to sit in meetings with her because she said that she was afraid of me.  These cases are truly Hollywood dimension and hopefully society as at large with wake up to the danger before the next invasion.  Rome was destroyed from with in by lead in the water supply. The west is falling fast by false allegations and death of truth and fact.  .  It was indeed a patient who told me she was stepping out of the office when I was seeing patients and smoking crystal meth outside. He ‘d arrive early and sit in the coffee shop and watch her go round the corner to smoke her pipe. He sad that was the smell upset him. . I’d not recognized the crystal meth smell until he pointed it out. 

Knowing I’d never done anything wrong. I said ‘fuck off” but I’d never said any of things she said, I  falsely believing the truth would out. But despite proving her ‘litany ’ of lies and amassing a mass of documentation to show she was fundamentally a liar. I still had to fight the college and human rights and end up paying this psychopath $5000.  Later I’d learn that ‘truth’ is no longer a part of ‘post modern society’ and that of course if the judge is deciding ‘he said she said ‘ cases without reliance of ‘evidence’ or ‘truth’ then all the power goes to the state. These quasi legal bureaurcratic authorities worked strictly on the basis of ‘who comes first’ and that the ‘complainant is a victim.”  Women don’t lie about sex.  

The funniest case that came out of this was a gay man being accused of sexual harrassment at the bath house by the gay man he refused to have sex with. There he was in front of a tribunal of ignorant judgemental bureaucrats who actually believed they could judge whether or not ‘sexual harrassment’ occured in a bath house and unwilling to look at the extortion and unwilling to question the ugly accuser with a tiny penis.  My secretary was a legend in her mind but not as attractive as any of the women I’d known including my girlfriend of the time.  

The College of Physician and Surgeons holds that the patient is always right. When a patient who threatened to kill his boss and his boss’s dog, his lawyer and his lawyer’s dog and threatened to kill me and my dog because I refused to see him went to the College, College bureaucrat said to me ‘don’t you wish now you’d just seen him.’  Note that they maintain the false chamberlain belief  that you can appease and negotiate with Nazis.  Our foolish PM says that ISIS killers can be cured with counselling.  

I’ve come to the point in my career that I accept there are psycbopaths and sociopaths. I loved Robert Hare’s research and the book Snakes in Suits.  With enough time and resources they might well be salvageable.  However “Polly anna’ is what caused WWII, Chamberlain is as much at fault as Hitler.  Sins of Omission are as dangerous as sins of commission just as covert aggression is probably more deadly than overt aggression

The College of Physicians and Surgeons tends to get a particularly skewed selection of doctors to work with them and they’re never truly ‘vetted’ today because I’ve met at least one who was so batshit crazy that it was a disservice to bats to compare her lunacy to them and there’s one true sociopath who is like this evil mole in the midst of some otherwise  rather fine individuals. I’m always amazed that these good people can work alongside these deeply disturbed or evil people and yet that’s how government bureaucracies work. Mind your own business. Lie lie lie deny deny deny.  Deniability is all important. That and the paycheque and pension.  . Arendt’s study of the Nazi bureaucracy and her final comment describing the ‘banality of evil’ was a true eye opener.

I found the study of ‘totalitarian isntitutions’ also extremely insightful

All this learning helped my patients immeasurably because people who don’t have direct contact with these institutions who play the game can’t quite believe how wrong they can be. The fact remains that we are fortunate in Canada yet, that most of the time most of the people are civilized.  Unfortunately the German people were the most civilized and they fell furthest in history. Even now the finest Iranian people are dominated by religious police who by all non religious police are considered worse than batshit crazy.   

I found the whole notion of the forces of evil and forces of goodness and societal sickness and societal health fascinating.I’d studied two years of community medicine and public health and sociology so saw myself as quite insignificant in the bigger picture. There’s always a bigger picture. So much occurs outside my control. Shit happens.  Dr. Carl Rid had introduced me to Kafka and I now saw his wisdom in the insaneity of the institutions. The College Physicians and Surgeons was the Castle. The government in general was a living entity.  The ‘State’ could be an ‘enemy’ or ‘friend’ of the people. The computer “Hal “ that went crazy on the spaceship really did reflect the history of the Aetheists Communist State against the individual.  

I found myself meditating and praying a whole lot more and finding that in the texts of Buddha and Kierkegaard and frankly in the teaching of Jesus, my Lord there were answers to the questions asked to day. I found that sober i was able to see all the addictive thinking that Rabbi Dr. Twerski described so well in his book of that name. I loved meeting Rabbi Dr. Twerski.  I was having these great lunches and debates with Dr. Sam , my favourite mensch.

Dr. Willi would invite me to join him in Saipan. I’d sail solo to Hawaii in winter through a hurricane. I’d not sail on because of unusual doldrums and the the threat that my job would not be there if I didn’t arrive shortly.  I’d been delayed a month by weather already.  I left my boat in Hawaii. I could face hurricanes but days and nights bobbing about at sea, dependent on wind, with not enough fuel to do the distance between islands, I turned back. I left my boat on Kona.  I gathered my dog STuart and cat Angel up and the three of us flew onto Saipan. 

I’d work there for a couple of glorious years making friends and coming under the most amazing of the local folk who were sober and under the amazingly spiritual people in the churehes and government there.  It was a joy to know Willi and Anita and see the love that grew from the depths of their love for each other and for God.  


My ex had not forwarded any mail from our practice and destroyed much of the correspondence. I actually lost my  Yukon license because of her passive aggressiveness and medical incompetence.  I never understood why the College of Physicians and Surgeons would leave her in charge of the practice considering she had no experience, knew nothing and did nothing. It was like they were complicit in the destruction of the business.  When I finally learned the devastation she had caused I had to subsequently write letters to patients and doctors telling them that the medical corporation and practice was defunct. I proceeded to pay back all her debts as well as my own knowing she had millions and millions of dollars while I was working extra hours and living cheap.  I’d learned though that if all you had was money then you were truly poor. I was advised to go backrupt three times but felt good doing the right thing though I can’t say it served me. 

I’d not return to serving in the north but having serving in the Aids Epidemic began working in the DTES where the drug epidemic was morphing into the Fentanyl epidemic.  

My secretary at the time said she didn’t want to work in the China Town areas and insisted I work in West Vancouver. “You’re too good a doctor to waste your talents with those sick people. I want you to move to West VAncouver .  I like patients there. They like me because I”m sophisticated like them. . I don’t to work with those drug addicts”.  People don’t appreciate the stigma that exists even in medical offices. I ddn’t know her true feelings which she no doubt let show when I wasn’t about till the issue came to a head.  Doctors are often held accountable for things staff do and yet because they’re focused on their patents they don’t know that their staff are not only not covering their back but sometimes actually stabbing them in the back. 

She’d go and the door would open to years of joyful work with more of the finest asssistants I’d be blessed with. I’d really had great assistants overall in my life, especially when I worked in Morris and then when  I first worked on Broadway. Now here I was in China Town and DTES and truly blessed with the finest staff. I’d again have these great assistants who made life so enjoyable.  The patients loved them and they just made the office wonderful. My dog Stuart had been killed by a drug addict but now I felt so good and safe for a change for a long time that with my friend Laura I took the risk of getting Gilbert. Laura and my assistant Aim and I would know the love of this puppy who’d bring joy to our lives and to the lives of patients.  

Saturday, April 8, 2017

Saturday Morning, Rainfall on the Roof.

Lovely morning so far.  No early morning wakening.  Woke up beside Laura. Lovely lady.  Gilbert immediately got into between us when I rolled over to kiss the wonderfulness lying next to me.

“”I’m the only wonderful of wonderful” said the squirming dog. “As he planted dog kisses all over our faces.’   So much for kissing Laura. 

I got out of bed. When next I looked in on the beauty and the beast he was ‘helping’ her make the bed. The bed had not had this treatment since last she was here and frowned reprovingly at me.  “this is how a bed should be treated” said the bed. “Whatever, “ I replied.

I’d got the stove top expresso machine working with the Fair Trade ground roast ready to do it’s magic.  Meanwhile I opened the back bacon from Choices and laid it out on the new grey and white dishes.  “I like these, “ she said when I served up  Me and Ed’s pizza on them last night .

" $69 4 piece place setting from Canadian Tire.” I said.  They replaced the chipped and stained white set I’d got from there nearly a decade back. 

We’d watched a combination of Start Trek with Captain Picard and NCIS Los Angeles with Heddy., one on regular tv alternating with Apple TV. The night ended on the Pinkertons with those great Canadian actors Martha MacIsaac and  Jacob Blair.

“I’ve been working so hard with all these clinics and everyone so demanding and not enough time and commuting on the bus, I just get home and collapse at night, eat, sleep work, “ she said. “I’m not young anymore, all I want to do is this on Friday day.”  

“I’m the same I said. I can’t think by Friday.  It’s like my brains exhausted . I’ve been working evenings and weekends for months with closing the office and moving to other clinics.  And the winter has gone on too long. Oh And by the way, I don’t think you look old. I think you look young and beautiful.  Gilbert and I just love your company.  You really make our Friday evening hundreds of times better.  Gilbert loves you. "

“Ah thanks” she said, pretty in pink

It was raining cats and dogs but the neighbour had come by to tell me there were 90 mile an hour winds forecast for the night. I took in my awning. I’d been running my Harley Electrogilide which revved right up after having the battery tender on it over night.  

I called Thaun Vo at Rand and Fowler. He’s this incredibly responsible helpful insurance fellow whose taken care of keeping track of my vehicle insurance.  When Laura gets out of the bath we’re off to Trev Deely. Thon texted me this morning he’s going to be there around noon doing insurance for another motorcyclist. Laura and I figured it was a good excuse for an outing and a chance to look at the new bikes.

Below follows at typical consumer age mind loop. In this case it applies to motorcycles but it can apply to anything, towels, wallets, bed spreads, homes ….I believe others do this, an attempt to get just the right thing for a particular time and by the time you get it paid off life has moved on and what was perfect is not not just quite right so in the ‘change’ generation we trade in or throw away and everything is in flux with behaviour coupled to consumer reports and internet news and manufacturer goals.  It’s burdensome and I think at times of returning to the bicycle days but my colleague’s bicycle is $20,000 and mine is a few hundred dollars. I fear if I tried to ‘size down’ rather than ‘super size’ I’d still be dissatisfied so ‘acceptance’ and ‘appreciating what one has’ is the answer.   Today’s consumerism leads to ‘disposable people’ and ‘disposable relationships’ which are the norm in this culture.  

(I’ve got this idea that I’d like to trade down my big Harley Davidson Electroglyde for the new Touring 1200 in the sportier class. I love my 1600 Electroglide on the highway. It really is the bike for the American Freeway. The  40 thousand mile ride to Sturges on the Electroglide was incredible.  Laura is not as keen on riding passenger on a motorcycle. She really does prefer the new Ford F350 lariat edition truck as does Gilbert.  I don’t think I’ll be riding to Sturges again.  Indeed it i go again and I’d love to I’ld like to bring the bike in the back of my Energy Toyhauler pulled by the truck. When I was at my brother’s at Haybay in Nappanee I really enjoyed the Yamaha 250 simply for lightness and maneuverability. I loved my Honda CRF 250’s in the day too because they’re just so maneuverable.  Great for the city but also weekends. My 600 cc Buell Blast was another fantastic bike for city and good for country roads on the weekend. The Harley Davidson 1200 cc Roadster was my favourite bike till the Electroglide. I really got the Electroglide for Laura and Gilbert and I.  Either Laura and I or Gilbert and I had enjoyed the 1200 cc Roadster.  It really was a great country and city bike and half the weight of my Electroglide which I really do love.  It took me a year  or two before I traded in my  last truck this truck because of all these kinds of considerations and discussions .  Dave suggested I really could lighten up the Electroglyde by stripping off some of the cruising extras.  So that’s an idea. That’s what ‘chopper’s are and I really love the 1600 cc engine.  My right shoulder isn’t strong like it was with the neck issue. Richard Cho my motorcycling chiropractor friend solves the weakness in the arm and shoulder every time I see him but I just don’t get in enough to deal with it.  Meanwhile Derek Baker who was my personal trainer gave me exercises which would strengthen me but instead I think of getting a lighter bike. I could just swim more and be satisfied with what I’ve got.

“Don’t you love the towel hanger”  I called out to Laura when she was went into the bathroom. Gilbert had followed her in like a personal body guard checking it out for invading weiner dogs or aliens.  Now he was lying in front of the door guarding it for her.

“Yes, it’s lovely”.  For a couple of  years I’d had this towel rack  I’d installed that periodically came lose and fell down. It really was a nuisance. I’d found an old fashioned one with simple screws and wood and now was sure it wouldn’t come loose.  No more towel hanger crashes when you were naked getting in or out of the shower.  

Syria has had another chemical gas attack.

Vimy Ridge, in the time of chemical warfare, was having it’s 100 year celebration of the Canadians turning the tide for the British Empire.  War.

President Trump just sent 59 Tomohawk Cruise Missiles into Syria to destroy Assad’s MIGS and the warehouses where apparently chemical gas was stored. It’s possible the Rebels staged the gas attack or that the CIA and former KGB did it. It’s even possible that CNN noting decreased ratings blew up a chemical bomb in Syria to get more television watchers.  For all we know Mila Cyress and the Kardashians blew up the gas as a test for a new reality tv show.  No one knows anything except George Carlin and Leonard Cohen and they’re dead.

It’s all above my pay grade.  

I’m amused at the certainty people have and how hard they cling to illusions like Climate Change and the new comfort words like ‘diversity’ and ‘multicultural’.  Meanwhile everyone who counts knows multicultural means ‘uncultured’.  But it’s all just intellectualism and Justin Trudeau sounds silly in both French and English.  His jargon filled babble makes one think of the days when the Catholic Church ruled and everyone who mattered talked in Latin. Now  hypocrisy is all we get with the increased transparency is lies and psychobabble weaponized words like Islamaphobia..  Feminists fight for Sharia Law in Canada as Freedom of Speech is destroyed by the M 103 motion of Islamaphobia.  Now Canadians  who say Allah is a fiction can be castigated and eventually imprisoned or beheaded.  Ironic that a once secular nation now under Justin Trudeau fights to allow Muslims to pray in the school whereas his father Pierre Trudeau celebrated the abortion of Christians and Catholics with that greatest Canadian “Mad Man Murferer Mortgentaller.  Because he as a jew killed off all the Christian children now Canada adopts Muslims who want to kill all the Jews.   It’s a weird world.  Putin just acknowledged Jerusalem as the capital of Israel while the UN said that Jews were not in Israel before the 1940. The UN noted for its lies about Climate Change also considers the Bible to be a lie.  It’s hard to believe such nutbars or science or history given the UN”s records to date.  

I understand old people who watch the news eventually wanting to die.  My father said as did his war buddies, “If we’d known this is what Canada was to become, none of us would have fought in the war.”  The old are sad. Everyone I know who is not wealthy and privileged uber upper class like the Trudeau’s worry about growing old with decreasing health care and no housing except barracks for the old. .

I’ve just had to pay for hearing aids.  A life time of paying taxes for Medical Care and Health Care and when it comes to my falling asleep at work and being diagnosed with Sleep Apnea I had to pay thousands out of pocket or die young of stroke and heart disease for my CPAP machine. . Now unable to hear my patients at work  I find out I have to pay thousands  again for hearing aids. I just got back from the dentist where thousands of dollars pays for my dental care and the pain is relieved but if I’d wanted I could have skipped the dentist and got Inside heroin treatment.  There are diseases of privilege and I don’t have those ones.  Yet to hear Justin Trudeau who gives billions to beurocrats and terrorist organizations we’re supposed to be always thankful. The taxpayers are probably paying for his Rogaine and implants.  

 

And yes, spiritually I’m struggling because I truly believe that God is good. This world is God’s world.  The Lord is in charge. Jesus died and the Cosmic Christ changed the world to one in which we as Christians know heaven. I can know heaven on earth if I simply accept Jesus.  Accepting Jesus means that I forgive Justin Trudeau. I also consider that Justin Trudeau’s stupidity is what makes me turn more to the Lord. There is no peace on earth with Justin Trudeau as ruler. He’s inciting war and marxist class struggle and all of that. But this is Gods’ world and I have to trust in God. God made Justin Trudeau.  Just the same way God made the snake in the Garden of Eden. There is no duality.  All comes from God and I have to love all as God loves all.

So my very spiritual development depends on my loving Justin Trudeau.  This concerns me.  it’s where the rubber hits the road.  Thank you God for Justin Trudeau.  Thank you God for CBC news. The lies and disinformation of CBC news makes the demonic look saintly.  But thank you Lord because the problem as I know is within, it’s in my thinking and focus so help me Lord see as you see with love and forgivements. Help me focus on the good .  

St. Francis Grant me Serentity!

 

"

Wednesday, June 29, 2016

Baptism

Matthew 21:25  John’s Baptism - where did it come from? Was it from heaven, or of human origin. They discussed it among themselves and said, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will ask, ‘Then why didn’t you believe him?'
Mark 1:4 “And so John the baptist appeared in the wilderness, preaching a a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.”
Mark 1: 7  “After me comes the one more powerful than I, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and unit.  I baptize you will water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit."
Mark 1: 9 “At that time Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan.  Just as Jesus was coming up out of the water, he saw heaven being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice from came from heaven: “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased."
Baptism is a central ritual of the Christian faith.  At the time of the writing, John and Jesus were Jews.  Indeed much of Christian history Christianity was thought to be an errant Jewish faith. The orthodox Jew therefore might well consider Jesus a minor prophet and teacher but that he is not the Messiah. There is a formalism in Judaism that Jesus challenged. He criticized the teachers of  the law of his day, the leaders of the synagogue of his day and the bureaucrats of his day.  King Herod is said to have tried to kill him even as a child because he was a threat to the political authority of the day.
Asked about money, he picked up a coin with the face of Cesar stamped on it and said, “Give unto Cesar, Cesar’s due.”  There’s definitely an irony in this but he said his “Kingdom was in heaven”.  There is a duality here.
Yet, we know from modern science and physics that Energy and Matter are one, except for appearance, matter, simply being slow energy. As scientists we accept the unseen whereas the materialists of an earlier day would say, “show me”.  Electricity and wind and other forms of energy are today seen no longer as ‘spiritual forces’ but they once were.  We are closer to understanding that which matters but not yet there.  Heisenberg with his ‘uncertainty principle’ and Neils Bohr with his intuitive grasp of quanta pointed us further all the while Einstein insisted, ‘God does not play with dice’.  Newton before him was a Godly man.
Central to the idea of baptism is this idea of ‘sin’.  To sin meant in the day to ‘miss the mark’.  It was likened to an archer aiming at a target, having the intention of hitting the bulls eye but despite all manner of effort unable to consistently 100% of the times actually shoot a bullseye. This deviance from perfection, the coordination between intent and outcome was what was at stake.
Modern ballistics continues to struggle with this ‘idea’.  That’s just at the physical realm where the scientists continue to struggle with concepts of precision and consistency, all in an attempt to remove ‘confounding variables’ and ‘lab error’ .  The words are different but the ideas of the ancients remain as true today as then.
I might indeed have ‘good intentions’ but the outcome is like my experience with love.  Married I ‘loved’ with the best intentions to the best of my ability believing thoroughly that I was only to be perceived by my now ex wife as unloving.  In my earlier life I really believed ‘all you need is love’ and devoted myself to the depth and exploration of romantic erotic love. Like the majority of rock and rollers, writers and artists of my day I failed.
I was thoroughly defeated by the abortion. Ironically the birth control pill which had promised freedom through prevention lead to the slippery slope that culminated in abortion.  I was powerless to stop this result so that what had seemed like a good thing, pleasure, without consequence became the deepest injury.  Homosexuality, anal sex, oral sex, masturbation all followed from the death of the child.  Heterosexual love and children were so intertwined but the church and society celebrated murder in every form.  I was a member of this society, and a murderer by association.
Repentance is an interesting word from another error, just like the word ‘sin’.  Today there is a low brow approach to cause and effect.  Determinism or fate suggests that there can be ‘no praise’ and ‘no blame’. Yet our society and most individuals I know who consider themselves ‘modern’ personally accept praise while rejecting blame.  Most of the social constructs and isms are devoted to this ‘dualism’.  Feminism attributes wrong to men and right to women.  Racism attributes ‘oppression’ to the others and defines the terms of reference to a convenient era that excludes the period when the oppressed were themselves the oppressors.  Nationalisms attribute good to their people and blame the outsides. There’s a kind of tribalism throughout the society and lawyers are mostly involved in playing this ‘blame game’.  Everyone including murderers and pedophiles and whatever flavour of the month is in fashions claims ‘I’m right. You’re wrong’.
People worship the ‘law of the jungle’ and ‘survival of the fittest’.  “Give unto cesar what is cesar’s due”.  Yet Arendt’s description of the ‘banality of evil’ is lost on the present generation.
Sprinkling or immersion in water.
Forgiveness of sins.
There is inherent in this the consideration of ‘morality’.  Morality is an individual code perhaps taken from the group ethics inculcated in the child by the social order.  When great atheist Sartre said that God was dead, the great theist ,C.S. Lewis said that the evidence of death would take a generation or two to show because the morality and ethics of a country were created around the idea of God, that ‘ultimate’ expression of ‘good’.
Kultura was the idea of a national expression of the highest.  Oswald Chambers book, “My Utmost for his Highest’ is laughable in today’s era where art is a woman’s shit on a piece of paper. Faeces art sells like Rapp and fashion like religion becomes a ‘who’s in’ with daily shifts of sentiment and emotion chasing the tail of the dragon, so much created in drug hazes and alcoholic blurs.  The emperor has no clothes.
Holy Spirit is a strange word. When psychiatrists wrote of ‘discovering the unconscious’ they were addressing the ‘inner world’ concepts which were little appreciated in the ‘age of reason’.  A man was judged by his ‘actions’.  Everyone understood that a variety of thoughts and feelings preceded the act but policing moved into the judgement of language then ultimately ‘thought’.  Today the ‘thought’ police are as evident as the ‘feeling or emotion’ police.  We all must think a particular way and feel a particular way.
The one became many and the many became one.  Someone along this line of development, this oscillating linear consideration there is a comfort zone for the individual.  The struggle between isolation and participation is a lifelong process starting when the individual leaves the ‘fated’ family of origen to create a new family or new group.
Holy is a word that doesn’t get much air play today either.
Carl Jung, the great psychiatrist, described the nuministic feeling, that sense of ‘awe’, what C.S.Lewis called ‘joy’.  There’s a sense of the ‘transcendent’.  It’s the ‘elusive’ high that the drug addict seeks.  Paul Simon wrote the song the “mother and child reunion’ and that sense of expulsion from the ‘womb’ or the ‘severing of the umbilical cord’ or the ‘leaving home’.
Death is the ultimate fear that humans have though they remain in greatest denial about this, puffing themselves up, building all manner of attempts at ‘immorality’ from the reproductive family to a whole range of institutions and ultimately art. The ‘fountain of youth’, the rocket ships to another galaxy all are like medicine a search for pleasure and a flight from death.
Death is the great unknown.  We go to sleep but Hamlet said, “to dream that is the rub’.
We’re a shallow, ignorant group today. Lots of business and words and grovelling but none of the truth of another day when the real questions were asked and discussed.
Today conversations are limited to reality tv and talking heads stupidity.  The clever man amasses wealth.  We are lazy.
War is due if only to challenge the complacent.  A new pairs of shoes and a new breakfast cereal is all we really can grapple with.
Baptism, sin, repentance, right and wrong, holy spirit.  “Like a dove”.  Heaven.
In fear we don’t even look up or look inward any more.  In fear we are caged and don’t disturb the cage.  We kill the young before they are born.  We kill our old.
Scott Peck described this world as a kindergarten.
Jesus participated in baptism.
A voice came from heaven: You are my son, whom I love, with you I am well pleased”.  That’s not something I’ve heard in this world. When I look at my life I am to others mostly a failure.  I have seen the disappointment of my parents, my teachers, my classmates, my family, my friends.  The taxman is the most disappointed.  I am utterly convinced today that my government would kill me for body parts they have so little faith in me or any other Canadian.  They kill the children and now take refugees to teach abortion to.
When you get an atheist together, even a few, they’re fine fellows but whenever there have been many in a group they have destroyed society.  Communists are aetheits. These leftist socialist have murdered hundreds of millions and persecuted everyone who is religion. The religion of atheism makes the religions of theism look cuddly by comparison.
But individually there will always been a Hitchens or Bertrand Russel.  Academics.  But in foxholes and at sea they say there are no atheists.
When one is faced with the great unknown, disease, that horrors of horrors, or death that ultimate unknown there’s a real challenge.
Working with thousands of suicidal people I offered to kill countless explaining I’d not intentionally murdered anyone and would gladly ‘experience’ this ‘new and novel’ ‘high’ with them allowing me to participate in achieving their ends. They were horrified at this because it meant ‘loss of control’.
The illusion of control is central.  It’s not been the essence of the debate of the state sanctioned suicide, euthanasia.  Yet when I offered to kill a person, none, not one, not a solitary individual, accepted the offer.
When I hit a fish over the head I ‘felt’ it’s life go out from it.  I have ‘felt’ the ‘death’ of a carrot when I uprooted it and at it. I felt the death of a baby when I performed an abortion.  I did not feel this when I took milk from the tit of a cow with my father and grandfather laughing as they squirted the milk in my face.  I did not feel I had ‘killed’ like I did with the abortion and the fish, when I cut out cancer.
These are not things we discuss today.
I have been told it is ‘UnCanadian” to think and talk as I do.  I have been consistently condemned for the actions that follow from these thoughts.
I have prayed for stupidity and smoked dope because when I did I ‘fit’ into the world as one who had drunk the kool aid. I didn’t ‘care’ when I was ‘wasted’ and I didn’t care when I was drunk.  My heroin addicts tell me that the only problem with their addiction is not having enough money to support it. To this end the government is supplying free drugs, morphine now, but the plan is for heroin.  The injection sites, distribution centres, are being established.  Marijuana distribution sites are being extended.
Atheists have no ‘prohibition’.  The fall of the USSR is said by some to be a product of the ‘vodka disease’, Russia was the only ‘modern’ nation to show a rise in ‘fetal mortality’ and this was directly a consequence of ‘fetal alcohol syndrome’.
Baptism by water by John was a public event.  Crowds gathered at the Jordan river and participated in this community ritual for the individual.
I did.
I flew to Israel and was baptized in the Jordan river.
Jesus did too. (this is theologically complicated because hair splitters would argue that he was ‘without sin’ so that later he could be a ‘perfect sacrifice’  yet here he is ‘participating’ in a baptism.
Baptism is a ‘drowning’ like ‘ritual’.  The individual who has been baptized is described as ‘reborn’ or ‘born again’.  The old life is demarcated by this event when a new life begins.  The prisoner is let out of jail with a ‘clean slate’.
In the Baptist Churches there is an actual pool, like a mini swimming pool, with sufficient depth that a minister can hold a person fully immersed.
The Anglicans, a much more effete and less robust Christian sect, sprinkle hair on the forehead.
It’s all in the symbolism.
Baptist sinners were sometimes held down by the minister who actually sometimes perceived with good intention he was drowning demons despite the sense that he was a bit sadistic and authoritarian. I saw a near drowning in my childhood church. The minister held this struggling woman underwater and there was a whole lot of thrashing and eventually he let her up blue.  I expect her ‘baptism’ was much more ‘memorable’ than my own in the Anglican church “sprinkling."
The full immersion was however different but no more or less ‘memorable’ . Each in it’s own way was ’transcendent’ . Transcendent or pneuministic might be better described as ’spiritually orgasmic’.