April 28, 2020 Covid 19 Quarantine

I reviewed the genetic information and was still not convinced that it wasn’t engineered. Truly it could be a natural virus but again, the lady protestest too much. It’s the same kind of ‘science’ that we were bludgeoned with by the UN IPCC.  Another agenda more alligned with money and power than with truth seemed to fuel the denial.  On FB the geneticists whose work I uploaded has been removed.  The explanation was simply ‘our fact checker disagrees’.

It’s frustrating. I’m a curious person and yet when there is such a massive expensive cover up which persists I am frightened.  The question raised today was ‘why was Beijing immune?”

How dare you question!

I’m reminded of my times as a child at home and at school where I corrected parents and teachers and was severely punished.  It’s not a matter of what is right as to who is saying it. Do not question the king!  Bill Gates and Justin Trudeau are Gods. Heil Comrade Xin Jinping.  The Balkanization of the world trade and corporations with politics making strange bedfellows.  The media graphs are even grossly biased.  The Goebbels propaganda techniques by CBC say 1984.

Now the virus is mutating. 30 strains.  The nervous system is being attacked.  First lungs then heart and blood and now nervous system. Children sick with new mysterious diseases.  We told them not to tamper with nature.  We will survive of course. Most of us. I once tried to eliminate rats in a chicken coup and became impressed with reproductive resilience and the adaptation of survival.

I’m happy here. Locked in my room. I’m seeing patients in a virtual reality. I’m walking the dog. I’m again testing the limits of no skin to skin contact with another human 30 plus days.  I’m assailed by erotic thoughts of all kinds and don’t believe it’s Satan talking.  The image of God and Adam from the Sistine chapel comes to mind.

Already I notice people normalizing the experience. Lovers in the time of cholera.  The reopening of normalcy is beginning.  The social distancing and masks remain but the false belief I’ve survived this long without sickness, perhaps I’m immune. Perhaps I’m immortal.  Even in WWI the soldiers talked about the sense of ‘normalcy’ in the midst of hell.

I loved the “We’re Living in a Ghost Town ‘. song by Rolling Stones.

I miss naked bodies entwined, soft summer nights.  I miss my youth.  Yet I am safe here.  The obituary will read, he was a quiet person and he lived a safe life till the end. I know so many women living lives of quiet desperation ‘safe’ in their luxurious apartments, alone.  The men are more rangy. A bit like alley cats. The families are faring well. When I was married I needed no one but my lover and wanting nothing but children to expand this contentment. I was upwardly mobile , a bright light, outshining my cohort, but never quite right with my partners who struggled for dominance and we eventually parted because I preferred my own company. We all create myths to survive.Sometimes it was their families and friends. Once we were just going in two different ways. What we want could not be found in the same town. Perhaps my continued suspiciousNess of government stems from then.  The burocratic nonsense that separated love and made it near impossible for us to remain and work in the same city.  So many people have their jobs separating them. 

I ‘m reading and hearing now of old married couples being separated by institutions. Yesterday I learned of a 75 year old who visited his wife of 60 years not being allowed even to see her.  They talk through alien technology now.  So much tragedy and the Chinese communists are flush with the cash they are making and rub their hands with glee because they simply lack heart. It’s a developmental stage that requires freedom.  Collectively they are barbarians.  Ant hills of greed and fear.

I would be no different.  I’ve been blessed to be raised Christian in a god loving home to be surrounded by people who loved freedom.  I am a dying breed.  I’ve ridden horses and sailed oceans. My grandfather taught me about ranching and my father about machines. My mother and brother taught me to cook. There are apartments now without kitchens and few men know their way around a garage. They don’t even know what they don’t know.

I wonder how much longer I have to live and expect it’s decades. The very question of the future seems to extend it.

It’s all in God’s hands. Rejoice.  Gilbert and I had a great barbecued steak dinner last night. I loved watching his joy in chewing on the bone the rest of the evening. There are cherry tree blossoms and the gay mallards have returned with the wood duck family. Some new birds are making a nest in the tree outside my window. I must find the bird book.  In a prison somewhere a man sits watching a spider trying to remember taxonomy and phylogeny. 

Thank you Jesus for this day. May I be of service and fulfill my duties to the best of my ability.  Thank you. 

Sperm and Darwin

When one thinks of Darwin, German SS Nazi Storm Troopers come to mind.  Survival of the fittest and all that  social relativism started with this fellow whose ideas literally infected our notions of sperm.  Billions of little tadpoles eject from the penis of a man and according to Darwin they are in a 'race' to impregnate a female egg.  Only one sperm will unite with one egg and Darwin claimed this sperm was the 'winner'.

Frankly, I don't think Darwin knew sperm.  Imagine a billion little men trapped inside suddenly let lose.  They're not going anywhere but away.  They're escaping.  They running en mass away from the prison or asylum.  The Latins are forming congo lines. The Irish are doing jigs. The French are pontificating and gesticulating while they run.  The Americans are trying to take charge while bringing up the rear. The Canadians are being polite but running no less fast.
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It's a mad dash for the first stretch, given the propulsive release.  After that it's like any other billion group of men going no place. They're spread out.  Some are out in front, not competitively, but just to get away from the other guys and see what's around the corner.  There's some guys bringing up the rear because that's where they can keep an eye on things.  The meanderers are muddling along in the middle.

The Vagina has always been a confusing place for men.  Imagine the poor little guys without GPS (or a woman to ask directions for them) trapped in cul de sacs.  If they were hell bent on reproduction like Darwin claims they'd find a way forward.  Yet once they come up against a wall they head the other way happy to be helped along by Gravity.  Turned around,   they joyfully escape to the great outside where there are bright lights and terrific musky scents.   There's also  that spectacular Whistler Blackcomb ski ride along a satin smooth inner thigh.  Maybe these sperm are the winners, the great escapees who end their short exciting lives puddling the sheets.  It's not like sheets and sperm are unknown to each other.  That alone shoots hole  in Darwin's mere intellectualism.

Darwin selected  the tunnellers to prop up his less than perfect theory.   His little 19th century brain gave all his attention to the sperm that entered the Cervix and headed up the Uterus.  Now what a long trek that will become for these little guys, their little tadpole tails wagging slower and slower,  no doubt. You just have to know a whole lot of them faced with the wonder of that great ocean probably turned back thankful for Gravity and the Great ski resort below.

The remaining sperm randomly headed off.  Those straight arrows that raced  right up the centre only banged their teeny heads against the Great Wall.  What sort of devious arrangement is this that those who angle off to the side, shiftilly, actually find a way out. It goes against the very ideals of Darwinian 'fittest'.  There's no efficiency in this arrangement. The  muddlers and amblers are as likely in the Uterus to find their way to the Fallopian Tubes as any Neitzian Superhero hell bent on the 'race'.

Besides anywhere along here an Egg might be stalking, already having slid down the Fallopian tube ready to pounce on an unsuspecting sperm simply minding it's own business, looking for a way out of a gooey maze. It's the Egg that's selective and probably seeking some poor schmuck trying to escape.

Mostly the sperm get waylaid in the Fallopian Tube.  Here their way of escape is blocked by something like a black gartered Dominatrix Egg.  . Most of the sperm might very  happily sneak around the sides of this engulfing Gaia mother just  to  get out the back door.  Maybe they draw lots. "Okay, Ernie, you're the slow one, we're going to leave you here to face that Egg alone. The rest of us guys will go get help".  Next thing poor Ernie is trapped for life in an Egg sucking the very DNA out him.  The Egg meanwhile is already pissed that she was just expelled from her home so isn't too pleased with Ernie.  The two of them start housekeeping  under threat of an abortion guillotine as well.  Meanwhile the 'gang' are partying their way up the Fallopian Tubes ready escape to into the great Abdominal Mall. Without responsibility they live out the wild full life of a happy unattached little sperm man.

There's a billion of these guys. They end up all over  the place.  Some in the wrong hole. Some in kleenex.  There's no reason whatsoever to think that the one sperm that gets tackled by an Egg is the fittest.  Darwin was simply wrong. Darwin was a  19th century English chauvinist.  The Egg could as easily captured Ernie because he was slowest or stupidest.   No one is saying he's not a nice guy.  He just might not be the fittest.

Genetics of Leadership

Jesus was said to be descended from David. This was given great importance but the claim is rather tenuous and frankly manipulated. The whole of Jesus' ministry too was that the lowest was highest in the eyes of God. He was from Nazareth, the bumpkin country boy to the great Jerusalem. In Jewish tradition of the day much as in Egypt, the Levites were the privileged class. So if you were born a Levite, like those born Brahman in India you were 'God's chosen'. The Caesar, even Nero and certainly Caligula claimed the same.
The idea of God's chosen was a way of strengthening the throne and entrenching the power in a blood line or family. Eastern depotism has used this till today. In Buddhist and Hindu traditions the leader is a product of many reincarnations and ultimately secular and religious authority are wed in the being of someone like the Dalai Lama. Question the authorities and you are questioning God.
The separation of religion and state was one of the cornerstones of democracy because "meritocracy", the very basis of democracy, made no sense if "God's Chosen" were overlooked for the likes of Abraham Lincoln.
In the middle east today Ghaddafi and Mubarek were preparing dynasties. In Canada the closest thing to a dynasty we have is Justin Troudeau, the son of former Prime Minister Pierre Elliott. This however is no different than Jakob Dylan following in the family business of his singer songwriter father Bob Dylan. Neither Pierre Elliott or Bob are likely to argue that their children rule as 'God's Chosen'.
It follows that Jesus is the son of God. Yet his "blood" in the sense of DNA keeps coming up as perhaps being like a 'racehorse's blood'. If only I could get a little of the material blood of Jesus I could rule the world and make miracles, says the materialist.
Yet Jesus came to declare that God was all and that believing in him would lead to one being a son of God whether adopted or not to put the evangelical distinctions on that matter. Peter, whose heritage we don't know of, actually walked on water. The matter was 'faith' not birth. If I have faith like a mustard seed I can move a mountain.
There is inherrent in this Christianity the idea of 'works', that is, meritocracy. I am to pray, study the bible, do good works and be ready to be used by God in God's design. DNA testing says we're all descended from an African cavewoman. So much for all that race horse lineage stuff of the Old Testament. Further God is seeking me as I am seeking God. There's a kind of mirroring in the faith and works equation.




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Location:Gildwood Dr,Burnaby,Canada