Death of a Pork Rind King …


Golden Flake clown

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From a Key West amiga yesterday:


Death of a Pork Rind King

October 31, 2013 | by 


Trick-or-treating is really an exercise in cartography. I wouldn’t be able to give driving directions to the Alabama suburb where I grew up except under duress, but I could draw you a map of my Halloween neighborhood route with unerring precision. Sugar lust, after all, makes tacticians of all of us.

Here is the house that would only offer a few chalky rolls of Smarties for your trek up a steep, Virginia creeper–tangled front walk. There, a woman with a fake witch nose would request that put your hand in a container of peeled grape “eyeballs,” but reward you with a roll of quarters and a full-sized Snickers. Here, you’d find an empty bowl with a plaintive PLEASE JUST TAKE TWO PIECES tacked on the screen door, its contents long ago looted by a mercenary band of eleven-year-olds with pillowcases. That house, home to a diabetic child, gave out glow-in-the-dark slap bracelets, worth up to three packets of M&Ms in the candy bartering session at the end of the night. And here, the crown jewel of the cul-de-sac: the potato chip house.

The potato chip house was home to Major Bashinsky, an estate lawyer and heir to the Golden Flake snack food fortune. Bashinsky’s grandfather founded the company, which produces crackers, chips, popcorn, and ten kinds of flavored pork cracklins.

University of Alabama football coach Paul “Bear” Bryant, a state idol and good friend of Major Bashinsky’s father, shilled for the company on his local talk show in the late 1970s. Alabama schoolchildren still visit the Titusville factory by the busload, tasting cheese curls hot off the line. When I was growing up, the Bashinksy house was the Halloween destination for as many snack-size packets of cracklins as you could scoop up. In 2010, it entered neighborhood lore as the home of the pork rind magnate who staged his own murder.

Bashinsky was last seen alive on March 3, 2010, in his office in downtown Birmingham. His daughter found his abandoned Toyota Camry while distributing missing person fliers, an angry letter to the company and a packet of Golden Flake chips taped inside. Police found Bashinksy’s body two weeks after his disappearance, fully clothed and floating in the pond of a local golf course. A bottle was attached to his corpse, stuffed with the same note his daughter found in Bashinsky’s car. His arms had been bound with rope and his lips duct-taped shut. Inside his mouth, a coroner found the label from a bag of Golden Flake potato chips.

Conspiracy theories flew. Bashinsky was well to do, but he wasn’t flashy. (My clearest memory of him from my childhood, aside from his Halloween generosity, was that he had a trampoline in the backyard and didn’t mind one or two local kids scampering through the hedge to bounce on it.) He had two young children, and no more enemies than an average Alabama attorney. His stepmother Joann had inherited most of the Golden Flake stock after Major’s father died, possibly leaving him without any major stake in the company. The threatening letters found in Bashinksy’s car and on his person held no clues.

Nine days after police identified Bashinsky’s body, authorities ruled his death a suicide. A man believed to be Bashinksy had purchased duct tape and rope at a nearby hardware store on the day of his disappearance. Divers found scissors, car keys, and a roll of tape in the pond along with Bashinsky’s body. “We believe right now that he drafted all of those notes himself,” a spokesman for the Birmingham Police Department told ABC. “But we haven’t quite figured out why.”

Little emerged from the murk of speculation. Slowly, surely, Bashinksy settled into neighborhood myth. His brother Sloan, who came in last in the 2009 Key West mayoral race after running on a pro–nude beaches platform, posited on his Web site that Bashinsky killed himself to avoid being exposed as bisexual. Other bloggers pinned Bashinsky’s death to a series of suspicious fatalities that year in Alabama, possibly linked to financial dealings with GOP mastermind Karl Rove. My childhood neighbors swapped stories with raised eyebrows, pointing to the Golden Flake label ominously when they brought out pickle chips during parties.

This Halloween, a gaggle of pint-size witches, robots, princesses, and aliens will navigate the streets of that same cul-de-sac. Maybe they’ll avoid the well-meaning dentist who passes out floss. Maybe they’ll plot the shortest distance to the porch with iced-down cans of soda at the ready. Probably, the mental maps of corn syrup–hunting children in those few blocks are unrecognizable from the one I can sketch from decades ago. But no doubt, for one Halloween-related reason or another, our pictures overlap at the potato chip house.

Margaret Eby is working on a book about Southern literary shrines called High Holy Places, forthcoming from Norton in 2014.

I submitted this comment on 5/10/2014, Mother’s Day Eve:

This is Major Bashinsky’s older brother Sloan, named after Major’s and my father.

Someone down here in Key West just forwarded me a link to Margaret Eby’s article about my family. I don’t know if I knew Margaret, I was four years old than Major, knew lots of his male friends when he was growing up. I don’t recall he had female friends, other than a few girlfriends.

Golden Flake was founded by a Birmingham family as Magic City Foods, Inc., which many years later, shortly, after World War II, was purchased my Major’s and my grandfather Leo Bashinsky and his brother-in-law Cyrus Case, whose wife, Leo’s brother, had tragically died of some kind of fast moving pneumonia not long after they were married. Cyrus never remarried. I heard from someone in the family maybe two years ago that Cyrus was gay. My mother loved him, and I really liked him, too.

Actually, our home featured a broad range of Golden Flake snacks at Halloween, and the company was known as a potato chip company, which sold other cellophane-bagged snacks: cheese curls, port skins, peanuts, popcorn, peanut butter, cheese and sweet crackers. Later, the company added corn ships and even later tortilla chips.

In the early years, potato chips probably constituted 80 percent of sales, but by the late 1960s, potato chips were down to about 50 percent of sales. I know that, because I worked for Golden Flake starting the fall of 1969, through 1973. Then, I went into the practice of law, having already obtained a law degree at the University of Alabama School of Law, before going to work for Golden Flake.

I’d worked several summers at Golden Flake during high school and college. Major worked there one summer, for a while, as I recall. And, later, he worked there, perhaps six months?, in the accounting/computer department, I think after he entered Alabama undergraduate and before he graduated. He did not indicate interest in working at Golden Flake long term.

I was viewed in the company back then as the Golden Flake heir. A number of times when I was growing up my father told me, “Son, I built this company for you.” Maybe he told Major that, too; Major never said.

Many years later Major told me that he thought he wanted to go to work for Golden Flake. I asked, why? He said, it was the only way he would have a chance to really get to know his father. Major had been sent to me by company management, with whom I had worked closely when I still worked there. I said, that was not a good reason to go to work there. The only good reason was because he really wanted to work there. Did he really want to work there? Major said, not really. He just wanted to get to know his father better.

Not long after that, Major applied for admission to Cumberland Law School, attached to Samford University in Alabama, and he did well there, and that’s how he became a lawyer, instead of the Golden Flake heir.

Maybe a month after Major went missing, a Birmingham television station interviewed me by telephone and taped the interview and put it on the station’s website for anyone to hear. I covered in that interview how Major became a lawyer, instead of the Golden Flake heir.

The Mountain Brook Police, the Birmingham police, the Jefferson County Sheriff, and the F.B.I. never contacted me after Major went missing; not even after I sent out feelers that I would be happy to speak with them.

I wrote in posts to my websites – and – before Major’s body was even found in the Highland Golf Course pond – that I seemed to be getting from Above that Major had killed himself and had tried to make it look like he was murdered.

After Major’s body was found, I wrote in posts to those websites that he was bisexual, which I had known for a long time, it didn’t mater to me, and someone who knew that and had it in for him was going to out him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He had not come out with being bisexual, he was living a double life, his image was more important to him than anything, and his solution was as described above.

Some time after I had published it was suicide disguised as murder, the Jefferson County Coroner’s Pathologist and the Birmingham Police Department detective assigned to the investigation both announced it was suicide made to look like murder. That was published in the Birmingham News, which did interview me early on, before Major’s body was found, but the story was killed by higher ups in that newspaper, according to the reporter who interviewed me.

Major’s first wife, Gail, a friend of mine, now deceased, and his and her oldest daughter Sloan, who was named after me, both told me that they believed Major killed himself and tried to make it look like murder.

Maybe a year after Major died, I did a Freedom of Information Act Request to the F.B.I. on their file on Major, and after it arrived, I found in it a black and white negative-looking side-shot photo of someone buying something at the 5-Points Hardware Store, where Major was said to have gone to buy rope, tape, etc. after he left the nearby Starbucks the last day he was seen alive. I knew when I saw the photo that it was Major, it was his precise profile, body shape, head shape, posture. I would have told the authorities that, if they had asked me.

An investigative journalist in Dothan, Alabama and I had a great deal of email conversation for months after Major went missing. She told me that she drove to Birmingham and interviewed the 5 Points South Starbucks employees, and they said they knew Major, he was a regular customer, and he was in there the same afternoon he was last seen alive, and then he left.

Also in the F.B.I. file was a report on pistol found in the pond below where Major’s body was found, a collector’s Browning automatic, .32 caliber, being the same make as a pistol encased in a display in the den of our father’s home, by then only inhabited by his widow, Joann, who showed the authorities the second pistol in its case, and said it looked like the one found in the pond.

It would have been just like Major to see that rare pistol in the case and find one just like it, simply because his father had one. I would have told the authorities that, if they had let out that there were two identical rare pistols, and where they were found. I saw no news reports of the second apparently identical pistol in our father’s home.

Maybe two years after Major died, I received an email from a woman I did not know, who said she once had worked for the University of Alabama in Birmingham (UAB), and a gay man in her department persuaded her to attend with him a party, which, she realized on arriving, was all gay men, one of whom was pointed out to her by her gay co-employee, as Major. She said she attended other similar parties with her gay co-employee, and Major was there.

Maybe six months ago, someone who should know told me that Major was deeply in debt when he died. That was the first I’d heard of that. And, he had a really big life insurance policy on himself – millions. And, it all went to his second wife, Leslie.

Major had two children by Gail. By Leslie, Major apparently was not able to conceive more children. She wanted children, so they used artificial insemination and a male donor, I was told by someone who should have known, and that produced two more children, a boy, then a girl, both of whom Major legally adopted, Major himself had told me they were doing fertility work, but I did not understand they were using another donor.

Actually, I ran for Mayor of Key West three times before Major died, and am running again this year. Yes, one year, 2009, the last of those races before this year’s, I pushed hard for Key West to get a nude beach. It was a rowdy place (understatement), a nude beach would pull in an entirely different kind of tourist, with money. However, that was only a small part of what I pushed that year, and in the other years, and this year.

I publish daily to, and more sporadically to, and even more sporadically to, where there are a number of posts about Major’s passing, mostly prompted by what other people published online about it.

I don’t imagine what I publish much, if at all, resembles what is published elsewhere. I read and reply to all correspondence, and often publish it verbatim.

Sloan Bashinsky

Sloan at HH 2


Hmmm, in my spirit code, pork represents politics.

In my spirit code, something like Margaret Eby’s article only just now crossing my path just might mean death approaches my political life in some way. But in what way?

And/or, it might mean death approaches in the “Golden Flake Family” in some way.

Maybe I should stay tuned …

Mother’s Day P.S.

Major became deeply devoted to our mother during her last illness, and remained deeply devoted to her as far as I know.

I sometimes have wondered, if Major had let me know he was so distressed, maybe I could have talked him through it. For a number of years, he and I had been really close, he was open with me. But that phase passed. I had thought he was doing well, before news of his going missing arrived from friends of mine in Birmingham.

I didn’t care to get involved in writing, or even talking, about Major’s passing; but it was given to me to do by the angels who own me: I call them Jesus, Archangel Michael and Magdalene-Melchizedek. They often put me to make “minority reports”.

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Jesus loves me and other Sunday prayer meetings on’s popular Coconut Telegraph kudos and whiners forum

kudos & whiners

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coconut telegraph

On the Friday Coconut Telegraph:

Thursday a poster defended Sloan saying the faithful all talk to God when they pray so Sloan should not be criticized for his angels.

People’s worries stem from the fact that Sloan says the angles talk to him. Praying to an angel or a god is one thing, that’s you talking to your god, but when you say that god or angels talk to you – that’s entirely different — and crazy too boot!

I submitted this reply:

Oh, my – then, whatever you do, don’t open a Bible, which is filled with stories of people who allegedly heard from angels and God. That said, being talked to by God and angels is the very last thing most Christians I have known wanted to have happen, because when it happened, it almost was never what they wanted to hear. In fact, it nearly always upset them to hear it!

Perhaps you have mixed that up with people who claimed they were told by God or angels to do something self-aggrandizing or hurtful, such as George W. Bush saying on national TV that God was telling him to invade Iraq. Now, if George had said on national TV that God was telling him to lead the charge into Iraq, and have his wife and children beside him, that would have been entirely different. He could have been Baker Act’d and the US would have been spared that insane war, and lots of American military personnel would not have died, or been physically maimed, or suffered battle shock (post traumatic shock), and military families shattered, and homeless roles increased. A demon told George to invade Iraq, and every American who agreed with that invasion was hearing from the same demon. Ditto for Bush’s invasion of Afghanistan and every American who supported that.

You might want to check out Saturday’s (4/18) post at, which introduces the KWPD officers involved in the Charles Eimer’s case to God’s courtroom, Jesus, and karma.

Also on Friday’s Coconut Telegraph:

Oh look, Sloan is back. The guy who promised he’d never return here. The same guy who just complained about content not suitable for children but who posted a detailed description of the sores on his penis (and that was on the CT, not your website). Surprising you worry about what the children read, I’m more worried about you being anywhere near a child considering you are an admitted molester of your own sister. He calls anyone who disagrees with him “haters” but uses terms like “Nazi Cow” to insult women. Sloan is only about one thing, making sure people pay attention to him.

I submitted this reply:

I don’t recall promising any such thing. I may have said I hope I never have to deal with the Coconut Telegraph again, as that was how I felt back then, and, frankly, I don’t like dealing with it now, but I don’t get to pick and chose what I deal with. The angels running me do my travel itinerary; if you have a complaint, file it with them, maybe they will listen to you and shut me up and let me go. Not gonna hold my breath about that, though.

The MRSA sores were on either side of the base of my penis, and one was on my right buttock. What I published was intended to paint the horror and grave danger of contracting MRSA in the Florida Keys, especially in the ocean, and ways to treat it, which medicine does not use. The other day, I received a thank you from a west coast of Florida woman, who had read one of my MRSA posts. The two home remedies described therein, she said, were taking care of her MRSA infection in her lower private area. She said she was a Christian Scientist and had not sought medical relief from a physician. She said she was using forgiveness, also, as part of her MRSA treatment. Forgiveness of others.

Many people disagree with me today, and many people have disagreed with me since I came to the Keys in late 2000, and even before then. I did not, do not, view them as Sloan haters. Over the years, I did meet people who came to hate me. There developed on the CT people who came to hate me, which was clear in their words and tone. Clear also to other CT readers. Clear also to Dear Ed, who is a friend of mine.

Yeah, I called the hefty President of the Marathon Chamber of Commerce a Nazi Cow, and I explained why in several posts back then, and how I had borrowed that term from the XXX-rated movie “Field of Dreams,” in which the main character’s wife called a hefty right-wing woman a Nazi Cow, after she went on a tirade in a town hall meeting, demanding that a prominent social activist’s book, The Boat Rocker, be banned from their town’s schools and public library.

Perhaps instead of cherry picking, you should go back in time and reread what all I wrote about that, with which I am pretty sure County Commissioner Sylvia Murphy agreed, because she was not happy to learn from me what the Marathon Chamber did that night in the Marathon Government Center. The County Administrator also was not happy about it. There was a rule against anyone renting and using county buildings to promote their own political agendas.

At that candidate forum, the Chamber ambushed Amendment 4 without any forewarning to anyone. If 4 had passed that year, that would have required a voter referendum on any future amendments to city or county comprehensive plans anywhere in Florida. 4 would have stopped the further paving over of Florida and the Florida Keys by developers and city and county commissioners. 4 was the most important item on the 2010 ballot. Sylvia Murphy was totally behind 4, wore pro-4 buttons, and gave the pro- 4 PAC money more than once.

Your worry about me being anywhere near a child, because I molested my younger sister 56 years ago, which you’d never have known about if I had not told it on the Coconut Telegraph, is understandable. The angels who run me told me to provide that personal history, I supposed because I was moving toward running for the school board seat being vacated by Duncan Mathewson, and that was an elected office which was all about children.

I expected what some of you on the Coconut Telegraph did with that disclosure, and I understood that was part of my living the rough karma from the horrible thing I did to my sister. However, you are mistaken, if you think the abuse continued, for it did not. It was short-lived. I was brought to my senses. I was no longer interested in my sister in that way. I never was interested in another child in that way.

I am straight, and over the years have been in a number of relationships with women. Except for a brief mid-day fling with a biker chick in 2010, as I recall, initiated by her, I have been celibate since early January 2005. Not something I chose, or wanted, but that’s how it has worked out.

The biker chick wrote a couple of comments into the Coconut Telegraph, and said, after we had made love, Sloan’s angels had healed her. Not my angels, everybody’s. She wrote into the Coconut about a month ago and thanked me for saving her life. The angels saved her life.

The angels also can help you with the terrible wound inside of you, which I have been used by the angels to bring up out of you, which drives you to have at me. I could imagine you were molested in childhood and you may or may not remember it.

You have read before from me that you don’t have to read anything I write. You don’t have to read the Coconut Telegraph, either. It’s not your blog, but you carry on like it is. If you don’t like my commenting on the Coconut Telegraph, take it up with Deer Ed, whose website it is.

Jesus, Archangel Michael and Magdalene Melchizedek, my main angel tormentors, disciplinarians, teachers and editors, seem to be trying very hard, through me, in spite of me, to show children, regardless of their actual chronological age, what is really going on inside of them and all around them, which they are not being shown by the people who should be showing it to them.

You think children should not be told about MRSA and that it’s really easy to catch by going swimming in the ocean, or a lagoon, or a canal in the Florida Keys?

You think children should not be told that angels exist and are interacting with human beings ongoing, even if human beings don’t know it is going on?

You think children should not be told Christianity does not know Jesus and has made a mockery of what he did and taught 2,000 years ago?

You think children should not be told that they may never be properly informed by their parents, school teachers, ministers, and they only cure for that is to be informed by angels?

You think children should not be told that telling the truth and doing unto others what they want done to them is not more important than trying to please other people, protecting other people who are doing bad things, turning blind eye to wrong doing?

You think children should not be told about karma and the sins of the parents being visited on their children?

You think children should not be told that admitting mistakes and apologizing, and doing things differently in the future, is more important than being religious and claiming salvation through Jesus?

I could go on with such questions for a very long time. And, I could stop cussin’. but I probably won’t.

cussin' is honest

The cussin’ pic passed through my Facebook account yesterday. Perhaps it’s shopped, a joke, but the timing with your comments left me with the impression that the angels had a hand in it.

Perhaps in response to attacks on me on the Coconut Telegraph,


Kurt Wagner sent me this yesterday:

There is a man in Key West,
who hears the Angels best.
When he does wrong,
they tell him “be strong”
and ignore what he hears from the rest.

There is a different post today at, which you should be able to reach by clicking on this link: To Protect & Serve might be a selective enforcement phenomenon in Key West, if you are homeless, or are suspected of being; plus some affordable housing cha cha mumbo jumbo

Sloan at Coco's

Sloan Bashinsky

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Was (is) Bill Clinton an alien?

Statue of Liberty

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Bill Clinton asked aides to investigate aliens, UFO files

The 42nd President appeared on ‘Jimmy Kimmel Live’ Wednesday where he spoke with the late-night host about alien life in the universe and how a visit from extraterrestrials could quell in-fighting in Washington.




Thursday, April 3, 2014, 9:56 PMClinton is convinced that if aliens did visit Earth, bipartisan cooperation in Washington would be instantaneous.ABCClinton is convinced that if aliens did visit Earth, bipartisan cooperation in Washington would be instantaneous.
Bill Clinton thinks we are not alone.In an appearance on “Jimmy Kimmel Live,” Clinton said that when he was President, he actually asked aides to investigate what, if anything, the government knew about UFOs.

The search turned up no evidence of E.T. — but Clinton said he wouldn’t rule out that aliens exist.

“If we were visited someday I wouldn’t be surprised,” he said. “I just hope that it’s not like ‘Independence Day.’ ”

The extraterrestrial topic was first brought up by talk show host Jimmy Kimmel, who said he would demand to see  any documents on UFOs if he became President.ABCThe extraterrestrial topic was first brought up by talk show host Jimmy Kimmel, who said he would demand to see any documents on UFOs if he became President.

The issue of extraterrestrial life came up when Kimmel declared that if he were to become President, he would immediately “demand to see all the classified files on the UFOs.”

“Did you do that?” Kimmel asked.

“Sort of,” Clinton smiled.

ClinfffDAN BURN-FORTI/GETTY IMAGESClinton said he asked to make sure that there were no aliens at Area 51.

He said he asked for the review at the beginning of his second term, after “Independence Day” came out and as the 50th anniversary of an alleged UFO crash in Roswell, N.M., approached.

“First, I had people go look at the records on Area 51 to make sure there was no alien down there,” Clinton said, referring to the top-secret section of a Nevada Air Force base. “But there are no aliens there,” Clinton said.

“When the Roswell thing came up, I knew we’d get gazillions of letters, so I had all the Roswell papers reviewed, everything.”

NRCONEYL JAY/GETTY IMAGESWhile nothing was known about UFOs, Clinton said it is known that there are other planets out there that could possibly support life.

“If you saw that there were aliens there, would you tell us?” Kimmel asked.

“Yeah,” Clinton said, smiling.

“So, what do we know?” the former President continued on Wednesday night’s show.

“We know there are billions of stars and planets, literally, out there. And the universe is getting bigger,” he said. “In the last two years, more than 20 planets have been identified outside our solar system that seem to be far enough away from their suns and dense enough that they might be able to support some form of life, so it makes it increasingly less likely that we’re alone.”

Clinton joked that a visit by aliens might be “the only way to unite us in this incredibly divided” world. “If they’re out there, we better think of how all the differences among people on Earth would seem small if we felt threatened by a space invader. That’s the whole theory of ‘Independence Day.’ Everybody gets together and makes nice.”

Read more:

After reading the other reader comments, some of which seemed serious, others not serious, I posted:


Whatever politics are/are not involved, I have seen a spaceship, which put on an air show I seriously doubt could have been performed by any earth human aircraft, so I don’t wonder if ETs exist, any more than I wonder if angels exist after having daily experiences with them for a long time. Clinton is right, given the billions and billions of stars, the odds are slim there are no life forms beyond this planet. In fact, the statistical odds of there not being life elsewhere are zero. Imagine the impact on the world’s religions and on national governments and on most earth humans, if a fleet of spaceships arrived in this planet’s atmosphere and then positioned themselves directly over the capitol of each major country, and started broadcasting in, say, Morse Code, or in each country’s language, whatever the aliens wanted to broadcast. Pandemonium?

Suppose even they were friendly aliens, not Independence Day types. How would they be received, do you suppose? Would major corporate CEO’s try to make business deals with them? Would national military and intelligence agencies try to make deals with them? Perhaps most interesting, what would religious leaders do with aliens? I’m getting on up here in years, now 71. I sent Bill Clinton a novel I had written, which was about an alien colony living on this world in disguise as humans – from the Pleiades those aliens. He wrote back thanking me for the book.

I wrote back, Clinton was still Governor of Arkansas, had won the Democratic nomination but had not yet won the US presidency, saying if he got the presidency, because he had opposed the Vietnam war, it would be his mission to make a national US apology to Vietnam for that war, which he did during his second term. I figured that is why he was Teflon every time the Republicans tried to get him. I thought he was a pretty good president and have not cared for any presidents since him.

Sloan at Coco's

Sloan Bashinsky

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Hey Christendom, you are possessed by Lucifer!

Jesus with leper

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holy fire

Yesterday, I was moved to go to and see if any new reader comments had come in. I found this Valentine’s Day comment on an older post:

Vincent Vaughan

Pastor Franklyn Knowles is my Pastor is my Pastor today at light and Life community Church here Nasssau, Bahamas, we truly Bless to have him, Amen!

Here is the older post on which Vincent Vaughan commented:

as you do to the least of these, you do also to me

Posted on March 18, 2012 by Bash

The other day, Sandy Downs told me of two of her experiences with homeless men, and yesterday I asked her to write it down and send it to me, and not to spare the rod.

Here is what she sent:

I copied this from a website I found:

(based on Matt. 25:31-46)

When the Son of man shall come in His glory, and all the holy angels with Him, then shall He sit upon the throne of His glory: and before Him shall be gathered all nations: and He shall separate them one from another.” When the nations are gathered before Him, there will be but two classes, and their eternal destiny will be determined by what they have done or have neglected to do for Him in the person of the poor and the suffering.

In that day Christ does not present before men the great work He has done for them. He presents the faithful work they have done for Him. To those whom He sets upon His right hand He will say, “Come, ye blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was an hungered, and ye gave Me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave Me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took Me in: naked, and ye clothed Me: I was sick, and ye visited Me: I was in prison, and ye came unto Me.” But those whom Christ commends knew not that they had been ministering unto Him. To their perplexed inquiries He answers, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto Me.”

Jesus had told His disciples that they were to be hated of all men, to be persecuted and afflicted. Many would be driven from their homes, and brought to poverty. Many would be in distress through disease and privation. Many would be cast into prison. To all who forsook friends or home for His sake He had promised in this life a hundredfold. Now He assured a special blessing to all who should minister to their brethren. In all who suffer for My name, said Jesus, you are to recognize Me. As you would minister to Me, so you are to minister to them. This is the evidence that you are My disciples.

This followed on the website:

We don’t know what is going on in this world because we have no clue as to who the Illuminati are and what they have in mind for you and me.

A tidbit of my dealings with the “least of these” :

The homeless man I met at Walgreens in Key West reminded of this verse, when I stopped by to give him $5.00 a few days ago. I know that is not much, but it was what I had. I have been financially destroyed by my outspoken words against the City of Key West. And I just kept believing if I was doing the right thing, then God would take care of the rest. I knew a few days from now, if the tide didn’t turn, I might just be sitting right by this “brother” of mine as destitute as he. So I went ahead and sat down beside him then. I squatted down on the concrete with him, his 2 liter bottle of soda and his brand new 8 pack of tube socks he was proud of. We talked a while. People stared at us. He told me of serving in the military and his son dying shortly after returning. His son was 4. He said he never got over it, and his life just went on without him. He landed in Key West with a job working on a boat engine. The owner got in to test the boat and never returned to pay him for his work. Now he is amongst the homeless in Key West. I gave him my number. And after he asked if “he could pray for me.” As we held hands and sat on the pavement in Key West outside Walgreens, he prayed to Jesus whom I know; and asked that I be protected, comforted, and receive instruction and wisdom…and on and on he prayed for me. I got up and left wanting to take him to lunch but knowing there was a chance my bank card had no money on it, and we might both land in jail for eating and having no money to pay for our food.

I am always drawn to the barefoot little boys running in the islands of the Caribbean. They grow up to be strong sympathetic men, empathetic and humble men. The ones that get to go to college in some other country always keep their humility placed higher than their degrees they earn from these foreign universities. It has not been a “coincidence” that no matter where I choose to live, I run into these “barefoot” men, cloaked in other uniforms now, but their degrees are not hanging on their office walls. I served a church in Miami, ran a youth choir and a donation center for the homeless and displaced. The Pastor had doctorates from UK universities, but was more humble than those we served. Pastor Franklin Knowles…a barefoot kid from the Bahamas with doctorates from English universities. No one knew, not even I. We revived the church with the kids and the missions. The Board didn’t like it. They didn’t like the “Christ” work we were doing. They wanted a country club for themselves. And they didn’t want any “non paying” members or parishioners, like kids and homeless.

On Mother’s Day, the kids choir put on a luncheon for mothers, and women, even women with NO children were invited, and we made sure they knew we appreciated them too. We served food and gave a little book we made, and the kids served food and sang for them. Afterwards I went into the kitchen where there was so much food left over. The Board members from the church were putting it into to-go containers and asking if I wanted any. I said “Yes, for my homeless friend Omar.” The ladies turned to stone and told me it was not for homeless people, only for the church members and their families. I died inside. I said then I would give my portion to Omar, and they needed to pack up not only my portion, but the portion for my family as well. It was a standoff.

I stood firm. The Pastor stood by me. They packed up the food and I gave it to Omar. It was one of the most intense moments in my life. We stood for Christ, they stood against us…in a church with a 15 foot cross which hung from the center of the A frame structure. At the time it was called Trinity Presbyterian Church and was on 107th Avenue and Bird Road (which is 40th Street) in Miami.

I had met Omar at a shopping center 1/2 mile from my home. He was one of the children escorted to the US because his father had died helping the US in the Bay of Pigs Invasion. That was one of the guarantees the US offered the Cuban traitors, that their families and children would be taken to the US for safety. Omar lived in an orphanage in the US. He never had family. They all died for us….in the US. Omar was abused, mistreated and abandoned here in the US. He had diabetes and needed glasses. A once master painter who could no longer see. His diabetes left unchecked without medication made him go into fits. He lived in a cardboard box. I loved Omar. Not in any way you might understand….I loved him like Jesus loved him. I loved Omar.

I couldn’t sleep at nights knowing he was in a cardboard box. I brought him to my home to do laundry for him, but he refused to interfere with my life. I asked the Pastor if we could apply for zoning to create a homeless shelter at the church. The Pastor and I were on the “same page”. We started a donation center. Everything was free for those who needed anything. It was broadcast on the News in Miami. The News crews came out and interviewed me. I said all of this is for the poor and displaced. The donations poured in so much that it overflowed our center. Huge trucks brought whole estates to us to give away for charity.

Some evil person called in to the county and said we were violating code, having the donation center so close to the preschool there. The Fire Marshall shut us down. Pastor Knowles and I winced not. We were being attacked and we knew it…by Satan. Then on a Sunday after church the ladies on the Board or the wives of such, accosted me outside the Pastor’s office and told me in hushed tones, that they did not want the children or the homeless at the church and they didn’t want me there either. Pastor Knowles, unbeknownst to them was right inside his office and heard it ALL.

Pastor Knowles and I met after that. He said he was resigning. He said that “where the least of these” is not welcome, it is NO church at all. It is against the Presbyterian rules for a Pastor to resign. The Board and members have to vote on it. They protested his resignation and voted that he could not resign. He and I talked again. I learned of all of his degrees and cloaks of color he could have worn to show off his honors and degrees. Yet he had never worn any of them. He went to the pulpit every Sunday as the most humble man on earth with humble attire.

I told him if he was going to resign in defiance of their vote, he should do so with all the authority and honors bestowed on him, and to wear every sash and cloak he had.

Pastor Knowles showed up with sash after sash draped around his neck the next Sunday. He told the church that where kids and homeless weren’t welcomed, then neither was Christ and he could no longer lead them as they were astray. He pointed me out and said if any had been more faithful than me, he didn’t know of them in the church. Yet the church curtailed my efforts, thwarted me at every turn, and disabled me every way they could. He and I left the church that day. A few weeks later, maybe days,….. my dear friend Paul was out fishing in the waters off Miami when a great thunderstorm grew and a tornado came out of it. He hid in the mangroves and watched as it went ashore. The tornado touched down one place in Miami and then lifted and disappeared. It touched down at the church. It ripped the whole roof off, the whole A frame was gone except the 2 beams that held the giant 15 foot wooden cross. The church was destroyed except the cross. I smiled as I watched the photos and the video on the News that night. Thank you Jesus.

Pastor Knowles went back to the Bahamas, built 15 or more churches and that is where he is still. Pastor Ernie DeLoach retired from Glad Tidings church in Key West, the church that had homeless ministries for some time in the past. Pastor Johnny took over. He is Pastor Knowles buddy. I gave the photos to Pastor Johnny of me and Pastor Knowles and Trinity Presbyterian Church when it still stood in Miami and when I worked for the church there. It is not a coincidence we are all working together. Not a coincidence that God just moves us around. As the Bible tells us, we have to kick the dirt off our shoes as we leave the villages who hate us, and move on to our next place God puts us…and then try again.

Make NO mistake of what I am saying…….we WILL ALL be judged as to what we have done to the “least of them”.

Sandy Downs

Sandy told me later that God had told her not to describe how she had helped Omar get off the street, because the focus of her writing assignment was not to get homeless people off the street, but to love them as Jesus loved them.

I said I’d had some dreams and was having some difficulty making sense of them. Then Sandy told me of a dream she’d had and I finally understood my dreams. Then, I got all choked up, could not say anything for a while. Then, I asked if she could come by my place, alone, for a little while? She said yes.

When Sandy arrived, I said I am supposed to help you out. She said I am helping her out plenty, with what she is writing and I am publishing. I said not that. Help her out with money, to get the pressure off her and her son who will enter high school next year. I gave her enough cash to tide her over until the check I wrote cleared the banks. In the “For” blank at the bottom, I wrote “for heroism.” I said I don’t have much money right now, but I am okay doing this.

I knew from the dreams the amount to give her. I knew she no more wanted to take money than the homeless man had wanted to take the $5. I told her it is not open to debate. She is taking the help. It is for her and her youngest son, and not for the rest of her children and their girlfriends and other people she looks after.

Sandy is hardly the first person I was called to help in that way. I once gave the same amount to a homeless man in Birmingham, Alabama. I once gave the same amount to in inmate in a maximum security prison, who only recently was released after serving 26 years for a crime he did not commit, and perhaps his story should be told soon.

I helped lots of people in that way, and two people I helped with far greater sums, for which I received rough criticism from people who thought they knew me, but did not. I was told to make those gifts – I never loan money. I understood perfectly, it is more blessed to give than to receive; do unto others as you would have done unto you. The first and larger of those gifts ended up putting me on the street. The second might put me on the street again.

After getting through the gift discussion, Sandy and I talked about a lot of things, mostly personal. Serious things, deep things, including Sandy’s impression that going back on a decision she had made is what led directly to her son Preston’s death. I told her it was very heroic for her to face that about herself, and then to share it with me. I described similar flubs I had made, for which I paid dearly. I said what I learned from it is never to yield to anything I feel is wrong, unless God tells me to yield to it.

I said the holiest woman I ever knew was the black woman, daughter of a slave, who had raised me. Devout Christian, she. I said the holiest man I ever knew was the federal judge for whom I had clerked straight out of law school. He cussed, used to drink moonshine and did not attend church. Both were living saints.

I said what I do here in the Keys is not what I was trained by the angels to do; it is a default program, low level. She asked if I do not see what I do having an impact for the good? I said I do not see it, but perhaps my vision is impaired.

I said the first assignment given to me when I arrived in Key West, homeless, was Unity Church. I said that church was shown in many ways what it needed to do differently, and it ignored it all. Eventually, the church building was flattened by Hurricane Wilma, I think it was, and the congregation had to find another building at which to gather.

I attended a few services at the original location, after they told God to take a hike, and one service at the new location. I felt plenty in the spirit during those visits, and it was not what anyone in right mind would want to have anything to do with. But they were oblivious. More than oblivious, they actually believed they were doing quite well after the fashion of Jesus Christ. Perhaps it did not help my chances of getting through to them, that they knew I was homeless.

It was Jesus I was trained to attempt to represent on this world. He was, is, one of my teachers in the spirit. I do not know the Jesus taught in today’s churches. When I used to attend church services, usually I was sent. I waited until something happened, to which I was to speak. Never was it to say something pleasant, what anyone there wanted to hear. Never did it go over well. Always, I felt the strong presence of Lucifer in the spirit.

I asked the minister of one of those churches (in north Georgia), who had become a friend, where did he think the devil would hide, if the devil did not want anyone to know he was there? The answer was so drop-dead obvious than the question was rhetorical. Yet my minister friend could not answer the question. Perhaps because he was completely convinced going to church regularly was required for salvation.

When a mutual acquaintance of ours had asked me two years before, if I attended church?, I had said, when am I ever not in church?

Even in my sleep, I am in church.

I wager if Christendom knew the Jesus I know, most of them would quit being Christians. Most of them would be on psych wards, or kill themselves. Christendom would be minuscule.

As is plainly said in the Gospels.

Steep is the way, narrow the gate, and few enter therein.

Many are called, but few are chosen.

The work is great and the laborers are few.

Those who hear my sayings and do not do them are like the foolish man who built his house on sand and when the flood came, how great was that fall!

Many will call me Lord, and I will say I never knew them.

I’m all choked up. Tears are rolling down my cheeks. My heart is heaving.

I came know a few heroic people in the Keys after I was sent here in late 2000, flat broke. The first was Dorothy Sherman, who had started the soup kitchen at St. Mary Star of the Sea. It was Dorothy’s operation, the church let her use its facility. On Valentine’s Day 2004, Dorothy was eulogized as a living saint by Peter Batty at that church. Peter asked the congregation, who would step up and take St. Dorothy’s place? I bawled my eyes out during that wake.

Looks to me Father Stephen Braddock and his right-hand man Charles Davis are the only people in Key West who can take Dorothy’s place, although it is for a fact that people serving in Dorthy’s soup kitchen are holding true to her mission and philosophy:

“It is our job to feed homeless people; it is God’s job to change them.”

Key West officials (and other Key West people) think it is their job to change homeless people, and if they do not change, then it is their job to put homeless people in jail. Too bad they do not see the jail they put themselves in when they put the least of these in jail simply because they have no place to lay down their heads at night.

Sloan Bashinsky

I replied to Vincent Vaughn’s comment:

Submitted on 2014/02/17 at 2:21 pm | In reply to Vincent Vaughan.

Hi, Vincent – thanks for writing, just now see your comment on this old post. Just today I included this below, also from Sandy Downs, in the post at Perhaps you will share it with Pastor Knowles. Or, see today’s new “As you do for the least of these you do also to me” post at, which includes this below and the post to which you responded, all in one.

God’s poet

Jesus decries the  money changers


I cry out from my within my soul, a place filled with such grief that only
my subconscious ventures there
Out of fear of never returning from the guttural screams and wails, I
awake only to find the world to which I am returning, the war that is not

The principalities, the powers, the unseen,
Einstein measured math and explained the unexplainable.
There is no formula for this world though, the war between good and evil.
It was attempted , the explanation many and many times in the past
with the Koran, the Bible, the tribal languages.
In writings and in generations passed down time and again.
The invisible weapons.

The Indians trying to explain a gun to the village.
No comprehension, no words to describe the terror of it.
The tribe saw his fear as he explained in terrifying images,
the death of his friend and brother.
The village looked on. Was he crazy? He tried so to convince them.
He warned them.
He knew the weapons would come on the shoulders of the evil warriors.
Calling for the heads of the Indians on a platter,
like John the Baptist, delivered.
Where were the laws of the U.S. then? Where were the Courts?
What was the difference? They called for the heads to be delivered on
They still do.

The principalities, the powers of darkness, calls for heads every day.
And unknowingly you choose your side.
When the Indians, the homeless, the children are not worth standing and
fighting for, you have become a tool of darkness, watching the deliverance
of the Saints.
“Don’t be surprised when they hate you”, said Jesus, “for they hated me
first without a cause.”
But that is terrifying. Who wants to be hated?
We run a popularity contest in the U.S.
We can’t win, can’t succeed without our friends. Then what would be the
measure of our worth?
Jesus said his saints would be like the salt of the earth scattered abroad.
Some have lost their savor. How many are left?
Few, outnumbered, holding the ground, fighting the wars of the unseen.
And the village hears of the weapons and can’t imagine, so they prepare not.
How do you prepare for the unbelievable?
“Only with God, the armor of the Lord, and the Holy Spirit”, says Jesus.
But these words are pungent in the ears of the Christians, the civilized.
“No heads are called for”, they say. Yet they are, by Satan everyday.
And the idle stand by and do nothing as the saints are delivered,
And the idle claim innocence of the blood of it all,
because they carried not the gun to slaughter the Indians, the Jews, the
homeless, the children, the Saints.

But I tell you truth, idle ones, you are guilty!
You chose not to engage in the battle and the battle engaged you,
knowingly or not.
When you said, “No”, to the chosen, you said, “Yes” to Satan.
You said, “Yes, Satan carry on and deliver him on the platter, but I want
no part of it.”
You watched the slaughter but raised not a word in protest.
Fear of losing the popular friends, fear of becoming the salt of the earth
scattered about and preyed on by Satan and his devouring angels.
Why would Satan destroy one of his own? Of course not.
He would not target the idle, who allow him to deliver the heads on the
The ones he despises are the workers of God, the salt of the earth.
Where is their army, where is their law?
We believe we live by rules. We live by rules other than those we see.
The rules were written, they tell us the price.
They are written in the Bible, in the Holy books of old.
We read with our lips and see with our eyes but believe not in our heart.
Or we would become the salt, the persecuted, sawn asunder, living in
caves, destitute, beheaded, tortured in prison and so the Book goes.
And so the sale is void. There are no takers.
They want none of the hardships of the Lord elect.
Those promised, those delivered.
The idle fall by the wayside, planted shallow, planted on rocks,
Yielding nothing but thorns.
And Jesus says, “It is hard to kick against the pricks.”
The pricks of the fallen, the fence walkers, they will not choose a side.
The side is too torturous that bears the eternal promise.
The other side, Satan’s side, is full of success, victory in this world,
and awards and accolades.

The elect sleep without a home, without a country, alone with our wounds
with only God to comfort us.
Speaking to the unseen as our only friend.
“Too hard” the idle say. “Not appealing.”
Then go and take your reward. Sit alongside as they deliver the heads on
And know…. you will have your reward! For it is written.
It can’t be seen, but it is explained in the Book, the Bible;
You have chosen even if you refuse to.
You have chosen if you are not engaged.
You are not the salt of the earth if you are comforted, and popular.
No words of Jesus offered prosperity.
No words of Jesus have offered rewards here on earth.
Jesus spoke of trials and tribulations, and persecutions on earth.
Only above from the Father in a world yet to be seen, will our efforts be

In a world Einstein could not explain.
In a world where the formulas work, but no man can figure them out.
In a world too grand.
“Do you understand how I hung the moon and the stars?”, said God.
“Then how can you understand things greater?
They only heard from the Indian, who had seen the gun.
They didn’t recognize the evil ones who carried it.
Nor did they know when the evil ones would come,
or how many there would be.
But the heads have been called for and surely they will be delivered,
as always.
And the platters with the blood will be full,
And your hands will not be clean if you sit idly by,
And you will be rewarded with your portion for the killing.
It is written.

Sandy Downs, Cudjoe Key

Sandy Downs

Perhaps you will share that entire bundle with Pastor Knowles.

Perhaps both of you might also wish to read the second portrait, “She worked behind the scenes”, in this little book,

“A Few Remarkable People I Have Known”, which is a page in the header at


Sloan Bashinsky

I started using this pic

Jesus with leper

in posts on this subject, because I felt it better portrayed Jesus the man and his mission, and how he looked physically – he was not Angl0Saxon, but was a Jew and his skin was darker than is depicted in Christendom’s art about him.

And this pic, which plays on the sentence “Jesus wept” in the Gospels, which perhaps predicted how Jesus would feel about what Christendom later did to him and to his life and teachings.

Jesus wept

Jesus in the Gospels taught a new perspective for living, which he modeled and urged those around him to follow suit.

I bet my my head on a platter that how we live and treat other people and this planet is all that really counts when our roll is called up yonder.

For me,  the hands of angels of the Lord are crystal clear in the above all coming together in one bundle today.

Sloan at Coco's

Next day ooops! Here’s a revised next day reply to Vincent Vaughan’s comment:

Submitted on 2014/02/18 at 7:09 am | In reply to Vincent Vaughan.

Hi again, Vincent – I was taken to task in a dream before dawn today for not including in my reply to you, and in the new post yours generated at, the full text of what I included in my reply to you yesterday. It was a recent email from me to Sandy Downs, who is featured in the post to which you replied on Valentine’s Day. Some days, I truly wish I did not get out of bed, or even wake up at all. Here is is. And, I changed the title of the new post to “Hey Christendom, you are possessed by Lucifer!”

Hi, Sandy –

In my posts of yesterday and today

the worst kinds of noise and related adventures in paradise – Key West and way beyond

politically incorrect and other heresies and noise in Key West

are reports of my the second encounter the angels arranged for me to have with Tim Jemly. I did not include in either report that the death of Tim Roosenberg’s 21-year-old daughter by cancer was caused by her father and mother’s religious perspective and preaching of same to others. The daughter’s soul was poisoned by the corrosion of her parents’ belief’s and thereby there being no reason for her to live on this world, since believing what her parents fed her about salvation rendered all else on this world irrelevant.

Before attending “Pastor” Tim Roosenberg’s presentation Saturday evening, I went to Impact Community Church and got to speak a little with “Pastor” Tim Jemly. He remembered me as the person he had spoken with on the phone about taking food to the homeless woman. He said he had made a mistake telling me he would do that, he had forgotten he was going out of town that week. I said Sandy Downs had gotten furious that I had published his and my conversation and what didn’t happen later. Tim said he would speak to you about letting me off the hook. I said that would not be necessary, how that went down was how God had arranged for me to meet him (Tim Jemly) after you had pushed me hard to meet him. I told Tim to tell you to file your complaint with God about how that went down – you get mad at God a lot over how things go down, which do not suit you. I did not mention Marshall.

I found Tim’s going out of town explanation lame. Here’s why. He didn’t follow up after he returned from his trip. He never went to see Patrick McEvoy again, according to Patrick. It was Patrick who was to take Tim Jemly, as agreed when Tim and I spoke with Patrick sitting across his living room chess table from me, to the homeless woman, Rene, because Patrick knew her and were she could be found.

My observation of Tim Jemly last Saturday is he is very young in spirit, and he does not discern. It looked to me that Tim Jemly was oblivious to the poison Tim Roosenberg was spreading on the people in that church Saturday night. I don’t imagine it was any different during the other Roosenberg holding forths. I have the gravest of concerns for Marshall being exposed to such goings on and/or being around such people without him at least being told to use it as a learning experience of how fucked up churches and Christians can be. Marshall is not my son, but he, like you, was assigned to me to try to help when I can.

You are bull-headed, Sandy. This is not a time for that. Christianity is possessed by Lucifer. You should be telling Marshall what really is going on. If not you, his mother, who? If Marshall really is called into the ministry, he needs to go into it with his eyes open, not closed. You, of all people I know, should not need to be told that. Last below is a page I just now copied and pasted from Has Marshall seen it? Has his mother lost her salt? I sure hope not.


God’s poet
Jesus decries the  money changersTIME TO CHOOSE

I cry out from my within my soul, a place filled with such grief that only
my subconscious ventures there
Out of fear of never returning from the guttural screams and wails, I
awake only to find the world to which I am returning, the war that is not

The principalities, the powers, the unseen,
Einstein measured math and explained the unexplainable.
There is no formula for this world though, the war between good and evil.
It was attempted , the explanation many and many times in the past
with the Koran, the Bible, the tribal languages.
In writings and in generations passed down time and again.
The invisible weapons.

The Indians trying to explain a gun to the village.
No comprehension, no words to describe the terror of it.
The tribe saw his fear as he explained in terrifying images,
the death of his friend and brother.
The village looked on. Was he crazy? He tried so to convince them.
He warned them.
He knew the weapons would come on the shoulders of the evil warriors.
Calling for the heads of the Indians on a platter,
like John the Baptist, delivered.
Where were the laws of the U.S. then? Where were the Courts?
What was the difference? They called for the heads to be delivered on
They still do.

The principalities, the powers of darkness, calls for heads everyday.
And unknowingly you choose your side.
When the Indians, the homeless, the children are not worth standing and
fighting for, you have become a tool of darkness, watching the deliverance
of the Saints.
“Don’t be surprised when they hate you”, said Jesus, “for they hated me
first without a cause.”
But that is terrifying. Who wants to be hated?
We run a popularity contest in the U.S.
We can’t win, can’t succeed without our friends. Then what would be the
measure of our worth?
Jesus said his saints would be like the salt of the earth scattered abroad.
Some have lost their savor. How many are left?
Few, outnumbered, holding the ground, fighting the wars of the unseen.
And the village hears of the weapons and can’t imagine, so they prepare not.
How do you prepare for the unbelievable?
“Only with God, the armor of the Lord, and the Holy Spirit”, says Jesus.
But these words are pungent in the ears of the Christians, the civilized.
“No heads are called for”, they say. Yet they are, by Satan everyday.
And the idle stand by and do nothing as the saints are delivered,
And the idle claim innocence of the blood of it all,
because they carried not the gun to slaughter the Indians, the Jews, the
homeless, the children, the Saints.

But I tell you truth, idle ones, you are guilty!
You chose not to engage in the battle and the battle engaged you,
knowingly or not.
When you said, “No”, to the chosen, you said, “Yes” to Satan.
You said, “Yes, Satan carry on and deliver him on the platter, but I want
no part of it.”
You watched the slaughter but raised not a word in protest.
Fear of losing the popular friends, fear of becoming the salt of the earth
scattered about and preyed on by Satan and his devouring angels.
Why would Satan destroy one of his own? Of course not.
He would not target the idle, who allow him to deliver the heads on the
The ones he despises are the workers of God, the salt of the earth.
Where is their army, where is their law?
We believe we live by rules. We live by rules other than those we see.
The rules were written, they tell us the price.
They are written in the Bible, in the Holy books of old.
We read with our lips and see with our eyes but believe not in our heart.
Or we would become the salt, the persecuted, sawn asunder, living in
caves, destitute, beheaded, tortured in prison and so the Book goes.
And so the sale is void. There are no takers.
They want none of the hardships of the Lord elect.
Those promised, those delivered.
The idle fall by the wayside, planted shallow, planted on rocks,
Yielding nothing but thorns.
And Jesus says, “It is hard to kick against the pricks.”
The pricks of the fallen, the fence walkers, they will not choose a side.
The side is too torturous that bears the eternal promise.
The other side, Satan’s side, is full of success, victory in this world,
and awards and accolades.

The elect sleep without a home, without a country, alone with our wounds
with only God to comfort us.
Speaking to the unseen as our only friend.
“Too hard” the idle say. “Not appealing.”
Then go and take your reward. Sit alongside as they deliver the heads on
And know…. you will have your reward! For it is written.
It can’t be seen, but it is explained in the Book, the Bible;
You have chosen even if you refuse to.
You have chosen if you are not engaged.
You are not the salt of the earth if you are comforted, and popular.
No words of Jesus offered prosperity.
No words of Jesus have offered rewards here on earth.
Jesus spoke of trials and tribulations, and persecutions on earth.
Only above from the Father in a world yet to be seen, will our efforts be

In a world Einstein could not explain.
In a world where the formulas work, but no man can figure them out.
In a world too grand.
“Do you understand how I hung the moon and the stars?”, said God.
“Then how can you understand things greater?
They only heard from the Indian, who had seen the gun.
They didn’t recognize the evil ones who carried it.
Nor did they know when the evil ones would come,
or how many there would be.
But the heads have been called for and surely they will be delivered,
as always.
And the platters with the blood will be full,
And your hands will not be clean if you sit idly by,
And you will be rewarded with your portion for the killing.
It is written.

Sandy Downs, Cudjoe Key

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two ships passing: Sloan Young Bashinsky, Sr. and Sloan Young Bashinsky, Jr. and Sloan Young

two ships passingSloan Y. Bashinsky, Sr.Sloan Bashinsky

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as directed in dreams last night, continuing yesterday’s my father’s second wife, Joann Bashinsky, the born-again Christian post at this website …

My first run-in with my father’s second wife, Joann Linder Bashinsky (today known as Joann F. Bashinsky) came about after my younger brother Major raised a ruckus about my father and Joann boasting about having Salvation Army trucks come to my father’s home to haul off stuff which had belonged to his first wife, Nelle, who was Major’s and my and our sister Elizabeth’s mother. All of those belongings our mother had given our father the right to use during his lifetime, but then they were to go to her children. The house also was hers, and she had given our father the right to live in it for his lifetime, then it was to go to her children.

In reaction to Major’s ruckus, our father came up with the idea of giving each of his children a $100,000 life insurance on his own life, for which he would pay the premiums, in exchange for his children deeding to him and Joann our interest in our mother’s home. It came to me to make a different proposal, which I shared with Major and we then went to see some lawyers who knew about such things and asked them what they thought about it?

The proposal was, we three children would deed our father and Joann our interest in our mother’s home in exchange for Joann agreeing in writing to honor our father’s Last Will and Testament, whatever it was. We had no clue what was in it, but we were concerned that Joann, having a power of appointment over what was called the “marital trust”, which was standard in rich people’s Last Will and Testaments, might not go along with what our father had provided and would change it to suit herself, which she legally would be able to do.

The estate tax experts we went to see, I knew them from other dealings I’d had as a lawyer, and one was a good friend fo mine, said they couldn’t see another wrong with my idea. Our deal would be with Joann. She was getting something of value in exchange for her written agreement not to exercise her power of appointment to change the Marital Trust distribution on her death, if she had survived our father.

So advised, Major and I went to a meeting scheduled by our father with his lawyer and his accountant, at which we were to sign the deed our father’s lawyer had prepared. We told them of our proposal, and what the estate tax lawyers had told us. They were not expecting that, of course. The lawyer and the accountant said they would have to look into it. My father was ruffled, said he did not believe Joann would change what he provided in the Marital Trust. Major and I still did not know what his Last Will and Testament looked like, and we said we were not asking to see it and only were asking Joann to leave it as is, if we deeded her our interests in our mother’s home.

Major and I heard later that Joann threw a monster fit, said she was not going to give away what was rightfully hers!!! So, nothing happened. That was the beginning of the rift between Joann and me, and between my father and me.

Many years later, my father offered to have our mother’s home appraised and he would pay Major, Elizabeth and me our share of the appraisal. I told him I would be happy to deed him my interest in the home; it had been put into my mother’s name initially to save estate taxes, was how I understood it, and she had given him a life estate on her death, and the remainder to us children, to save estate taxes. Just a lawyer trick, I said. My father said, no, he wanted to push money to his children, so I agreed to it, the appraisal was done, the transaction was completed. That was the fall of 1991. Perhaps the closing was in early 1992.

Flash forward.

As I mentioned in yesterday’s my father’s second wife, Joann Bashinsky, the born-again Christian post at, not long after my father had passed over in late August 2005, he came to me in a dream and said he had left before being able to attend to a few things and he hoped I would attend to what he had not had time to do. I awoke really pissed off, and told him that wasn’t true; he’d had plenty of time to attend to those things but he had put it off because it would have meant dealing with his second wife, Joann, now his widow. However, there were two things I felt needed addressing anyway, and I would do what I could.

My father had left Joann $14,000,000 cash, via a codicil to his will executed about 8 months before he passed over. He was in frail health, under round the clock care by hospice workers at his home by then, and it looked fishy to a lawyer buddy of mine who read my father’s will for me. It looked fishy to me, too. The second thing was, my father’s will made no provision for any of his grandchildren.

So, I sent Joann an email, in which I told her about the dream and reminded her that she had received enough from my father otherwise to last her quite comfortably for the rest of her life and then some. I asked her to disperse the $14,000,000 million to my father’s grandchildren, in equal shares, which would include the son of her daughter, whom my father had legally adopted. I also asked her to include my father’s first son, my older step brother Travis, in the distribution, as if he were a grandson. Travis was a forbidden subject in our family, and he had not, as far as I knew, received any inheritance from his and my father.

Joann’s response to that request was to block me out of her email account. Part of my father’s estate was a large trust he had set up years before to avoid paying a lot of estate taxes later. Let’s call that the Family Trust. When it was set up my father conveyed into it a great deal of common stock, including all, I think, of his personally-owned common stock in the family business, Golden Enterprises, Inc., which was traded on the NASDAQ stock exchange. Golden Enterprises was a holding company, included in which was Golden Flake Snack Foods, Inc., the mother company, and a couple of much smaller companies, so much smaller that they are not relevant to this discussion.

Golden Flake Snack Foods made about the same products Frito-Lay made, and Frito-Lay was Golden Flakes main competitor. My father had purchased a lot of Frito-Lay stock as a hedge, and that had proved bountiful as Frito-Lay grew in size, dwarfing Golden Flake, and then Frito-Lay had merged with Pepsi-Cola, and became Pepsi-Co, and that further dwarfed Golden Flake. Perhaps my father put some Pepsi-Co  common stock into the Family Trust, as well. He put other common stock into it, including Torchmark, Inc. common stock, which was the basis of his and his father’f fortune, which is another story altogether. My father paid the gift tax on all of the common stock transferred into the Family Trust. By paying the gift tax then, gambling the common stock then would rise in value, the estate tax on that common stock at his death was eliminated.

The dividends from the common stock in the Family Trust were to be paid to my father, and perhaps also to Joann jointly, and then to the survivor for so long as they lived. Upon my father’s death all of the Family Trust income (dividends from the common stock) went to Joann. This was one of the provisions my father had made for Joann. Another provision was, during her life, Joann was the beneficiary of my father’s estate separate and apart from the Family Trust. That was another trust, which I will call the Marital Trust. I saw no reason for Joann to need the $14,000,000.

In hindsight, I perhaps should have told my lawyer friend, who was an expert in such matters, and was one of the lawyers who had advised Major and me about our trying to get Joann to agree not to change our father’s Last Will and Testament, to contest the $14,000,000 cash bequest as being made under undue influence. However, going that route never occurred to me at the time. I had been trained by the angels to avoid litigation at all costs, but perhaps that lawsuit would have been allowed, since I was not asking for anything for myself, but only for all of my father’s grandchildren and Travis. Yet, had the lawsuit prevailed, the $14,000,000 would have gone into my father’s estate, and thus into the Marital Trust, the ultimate beneficiaries of which, unless Joann changed it in her will, would be my father’s children to the extent any of that estate remained. So, in that light, the lawsuit would have been self-serving, as I would have been a potential beneficiary. However, the intent of the lawsuit would have been to reach a settlement in favor of my father’s grandchildren and Travis.

Well, none of that happened. Instead, I renounced my interest in the Family Trust in favor of my daughters, with a request to them that they provide for my second wife, Jane, who under our divorce decree was entitled to a portion of my interest in the Family Trust. When my daughters proved unresponsive, I then was told to revoke the renouncement, which I did, because I was required by law and by God and by my own sense of what was right to provide for Jane to receive what was hers under our divorce decree, if I outlived Joann and received my part of the Family Trust.

The Family Trust was set up to terminate in the year 2021 (I think), or the sale of Golden Enterprises, whichever event came first. The company has not been sold. Joann is dying from Parkinson’s, a horrible disease I would not wish on anyone. Her only child/daughter Suzanne died of a terrible cancer a few years ago. My brother Major killed himself about a year before Suzanne died. My younger sister Elizabeth and I are my father’s surviving children, and Travis, who is not part of the family except in my thoughts and heart. Elizabeth has four children, I have two.

Major left four children, two by his first wife, two by his second wife. He worked out a deal with our father when the Family Trust was being drawn up, which allowed Major to determine in his own Will how his part of the Family Trust would be distributed if he died before he received his part. In his Will, Major cut his two oldest children out of the Family Trust and out of his own estate, and only his two younger children by his second wife stepped into his shoes. Suzanne’s son Landon stepped in her shoes. My sister and I stand to receive our parts of the Family Trust upon Joann’s death. I don’t know what her Last Will and Testament does with her power of appointment over the Marital Trust. If still living at Joann’s death, I will pass on to Jane her part of the Family Trust which I receive, tax free to Jane, based on a dream. All of which assumes nobody contests my part of the Family Trust, which brings me to the Travis part of this saga.

In the summer of 1998, I dreamt of being in the den of my father’s home. Reclined on the chaise lounge where my father normally hung out was a fellow someone younger than I named Travis Gamble, whom I had known growing up. He and I had played a lot of golf and cards together at the Birmingham County Club, which back then you only got into if your parents were in it, or you were really important and had connections with the honchos in the club hierarchy.

I shared the dream with Richard, a close a male friend in California, who thereupon became clairaudient and began hearing from Above all sorts of stuff about a half-older brother of mine named Travis, who was the son of my father and the daughter of the black servants in the home of my father’s parents. Travis was half African-American, half AngloSaxon-Jew (my Grandfather Bashinsky’s father was a Polish Jew). My father had really loved Travis’ mother, but they were teenagers and interracial affairs were not okay in Birmingham back then. My Grandfather Bashinsky paid the mother and her parents money for the mother to leave Alabama with her unborn child and never she nor he would return. Further payments were made to the mother as time passed.

I also shared the Travis dream with another close male friend,  Aubry, who had worked at Golden Flake and had retired due to heart trouble. He then started having mystical, including clairaudient, experiences of his own. He had lots of dreams of a mystical nature, and sometimes he had dreams for/about me. After I told him of the Travis dream, Aubry then had a long string of dreams about my half-brother Travis, filling in lots more details: how Travis was doing; how he felt about what had gone down; how he felt about me, not favorably, I had walked away from being the Golden Flake successor to my father. After my father was older, he had taken over sending money to Travis’s mother and then perhaps also to Travis. Intermediaries I knew where used to make the money payments.

All of this was news to me, but the way it went down convinced me it was for real. Richard and Aubry were convinced it was for real. Then, Aubry had a final dream. I was apprehended by the FBI, hand-cuffed and hauled away, as I looked back over my shoulder at Aubry saying, “I didn’t do anything wrong! I didn’t do anything wrong!” Aubry awoke in cardiac arrest. His wife rushed him to a hospital, where he was stabilized. His wife told him no more dealings with me. He and I were very close. It was painful.

Meanwhile, I went to see my father’s older brother Leo. Their younger brother Jack had died in his late teens. Born with the cord around his neck, Jack was an invalid and mentally diminished his short sad life. Many times when I was younger I had wished Leo had been my father because he and I both loved to fish. He knew that, and he had once told a friend of mine, Rick Ruoff, a flats guide in Islamorada, Florida Keys, that I should have been his son.

Leo was a direct person, minced no words. Why had I come to see him? I said I came to ask him if I had a brother I didn’t know about? Leo looked me dead in the eye, said, “I don’t want to have anything to do with that.” I said okay. I got his drift. Yes, I had a brother I didn’t know about, and he wanted to be left out of it. That was my earthly confirmation that Travis existed, of which I already had no doubt when I went to see Leo. That was in September 1998.

I sat on all of that until mid-December 1999, when I was moved by the angels to write a letter to my father, that was how we sometimes communicated back then. Face to face would necessarily include Joann and he didn’t want that and I really didn’t want it either. I told him how I had come to learn about maybe having an older half-brother named Travis, but left Leo out of it, and I left mixed-race out of it. I named Richard and Aubry as my human informants. Aubry and my father had been very close. I said if I did have an older half-brother, I was not upset, but I would like to meet him if that was possible. I told my father, if I did not hear back from him, I would take that to mean I did have an older half-brother.

Little did I then know Joann intercepted that letter and read it before giving it to my father. Little did I then know Joann  intercepted and read all of my letters to my father. I didn’t learn of that until late 2004, which is another story entirely.

I heard nothing back from my father. I was not surprised, said, oh well. My father was in the habit of giving each of his children, including Suzanne, common stock in either Pepsi-Co or Torchmark for Christmas. Usually it was valued between $8,000-$10,000. I didn’t receive any common stock that Christmas. I said, oh well.

A few days later, I was overwhelmed with a directive from Above to legally change my name to Sloan Young. My birth name was Sloan Young Bashinsky, Jr. Then, I was to legally renounce all inheritances from my father. I did that. Then, I was to get a new driver’s license and a new passport in the name of Sloan Young, and I was to become Sloan Young with Social Security. I did that.

The woman I then was with, who was clairaudient and had very good spirit vision as well, was given a parallel directive to change her name to Cathy Young, change her passport and Social Security to Cathy Young, and to let her parents know what she had done, as well as her son and her friends. I was directed to let my sister and brother and children and father Jane and my third wife know what I had done. Cathy and I did what we were directed to do. We were in lockstep.

Then, we were told to leave Birmingham, where we then were living. We paired our belongings way down, put what was left into my old Chevorlet, and we left Birmingham, headed westerly, as Cathy had been hearing was the direction we were to travel. About 90 miles down the road, the car engine overheated, all the radiator fluid ran out. The car was finished. We packed two bags, were given a lift further down the road to where their was a motel, and then began another story, which finally ended up with my leaving Cathy on Maui with a family we had met, who liked Cathy, and my coming to Key West, homeless. Westerly.

On Maui came the first signals from Above that I should go back to being Sloan Young Bashinsky, Jr. But I did not grok the signals, and I did not want to grok them. I liked Sloan Young, I liked him a lot. He was the truest, toughest man I knew. I liked the name. Yet over the next few years, more signals came to go back to being Sloan Young Bashinsky, Jr. I did not grok those signals, either, until they became blatant in 2003, just after this poem jumped out of me in early June 2003, just before I nearly died of MRSA in Key West.


I am a man.

I said,
I am a man!

What means it,
being a man?

A man is a warrior:
he lives by a code of honor,
his word is reliable,
his actions confirm his words,
his commitment is holiness,
his enemies are welcome at his hearth,
he fears but moves forward,
he cries and gets up again,
he hates but forgives,
he loves and let’s go,
he doubts but trusts God,
he’s a good friend,
he seeks resolutions,
he demands nothing,
he risks everything,
he regrets his mistakes,
he seeks to make amends,
he puts others’ welfare first,
he accepts apologies truly made,
he expects nothing back,
he lives ready to die,
he laughs when he “should” scream,
he screams when he “should” laugh,
he sings just because,
he shrugs off insults,
he learns from misfortune,
he cusses God for making him,
he wishes he was done,
he loves children and animals,
he relishes a woman’s scent,
he smiles when he’s content,
he knows God’s his master,
he walks in rainbows,
his garden is the world,
his way is nature,
he loves fishing,
his wife is his soul,
his food is life,
his pay is whatever he receives.

Yep, he’s crazy.

So, I legally changed my name back to Sloan Young Bashinsky, Jr. I got a new driver’s license, passport and Social Security card issued in my original name. I revoked the renouncement of my inheritance, all as directed to do.

I was not happy about it. I resented it. I had done precisely what I had been told to do. And now I was undoing all of it. I thought it was just plain wrong to go for an inheritance, when my father wanted nothing to do with me in this life; when he thought I was insane; when he wished, I imagined, that I never had been born; when I knew the real problem was Joann, who wanted me dead, a psychiatrist had once told me after he had met with Joann and my father. And, I was really upset that the angels had me blocked from making a living wage doing what I was good at: writing, counseling, consulting.

Although I remained fast to being Sloan Young Bashinsky, Jr. again, I waffled again about the inheritance for the reasons stated above. I wrote a letter to my father in July 2005 saying it just wasn’t right for me to inherit from him under the circumstances. Then, I was told in dreams that was not okay for me to have done. So, I called my father’s lawyer, with whom I had attended law school at Alabama, and, later, tax law school at Alabama. I had sent the letter to him because I didn’t want Joann to see if first. He said he had already had it delivered to my father, ie. to Joann. I told the lawyer I was told in a dream that the letter was a mistake. Maybe I then wrote another letter, saying the previous letter was a mistake. I don’t recall for sure.

My father died about a month later. The lawyer called me to tell me that just after I typed the last sentence in a tearful eulogy I had typed about my father’s and my relationship on a borrowed computer in the county library where I was hanging out that summer. I burst into tears. The lawyer said I should not be sad, my father was in a better place now. I said I knew that, I was not crying because he had died. The lawyer asked why I was crying? I said, because my father and I never patched things up between us.

The lawyer was all in favor of my receiving the inheritance my father had left to each of his children, which inheritance, $1,000,000 cash, which I received on February 14, 2006, Valentine’s Day, which was not lost on me or the lawyer. The same lawyer who had drawn up the deeds on my mother’s home for Major and me to sign over to my father and Joann. The inheritance enabled me to stop being homeless, or nearly so. On Joann’s death, each of my father’s children, or their heirs, were to receive a second $1,000,000 inheritance, if my father’s estate had that much money. Years later, perhaps 2012, I sent my father’s lawyer, as directed from Above, a notarized affidavit, plainly stating that I revoked any and all prior renouncements of my inheritance from my father. The lawyer replied that was sufficient, I needed to do no more.

All the while I remained bent out of shape over the hoopla about the inheritance, when there had seemed to be no concern from Above when I was penniless, living on the street, living just off the street, unable to make a living wage, despite having been moved in 2001 to write what I still feel is about as good a novel as ever was written, for which I gave God the credit; I seemed to be taking dictation. Even today, it looks to me the reason for the hoopla was to allow Jane to receive what was her’s under our divorce decree, which I feel is dead on. And, there is a woman I have been supporting financially since mid-2005, who also needs to be cared for financially. The inheritance is the only way to do that, as things now stand.
If I was pressed to hazard a guess, I’d guess Joann will pass over soon, and my writing this today is required of me in that regard. What I do not know yet is whether or not I am to go back further in time and relate the things Joann did, which precipitated my being used to challenge her and put my father on the hot seat, which probably led to an inevitable estrangement between my father and me. The real tragedy was, is, we truly loved each other, but on this world it was doomed to go the way it went. It did not help the outcome, that I was grabbed from Above and taken down a road which refuted my father’s capitalistic perspective and brought God far to close to human affairs for ordinary people’s comfort.

Nor did it help that I was put through experiences that rendered me insane for a while, and caused me to be associated with my father’s afflicted brother Jack, about whom my father, nor Leo, ever would speak to me. Because of Jack, they would not bring their friends to their home, so embarrassed were they about Jack, who did nothing but be born with the chord around his neck. He was totally innocent. I cannot claim that; however, I was grabbed, and I was taken down a road my father and Leo and my children and their mother and Jane could not fathom. A road nobody I know today, except the woman I am taking care of, can fathom. She’s on a similar road, but has put in less time on it than I have.I think my being hauled off by the F.B.I. had to do with a dream I had passing through Tallahassee en route to Key West.

In my dreams, federal anything is about the High Court – God’s court.

In the dream, the federal judge, for whom I had clerked after graduating from Alabama’s law school in early 1968, his name was Clarence W. Allgood, came to me and said he was thinking about getting involved in politics. I said I didn’t think that was a good idea, but knowing him, I figured he would do it. I awoke in shock, I detested politics. When he was alive, Judge Allgood had run the Democratic Party in Alabama, which back then was the only political party. No one ran for national or state office in Alabama without first getting Judge Allgood’s blessing. I knew I was going into politics, which is yet another story.

Ces’t cera cera (What will be will be)

Sloan at Coco's
Sloan Bashinsky
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my father’s second wife, Joann Bashinsky, the born-again Christian

Today's VulcaniteVulcan, who stands on Red Mountain overlooking Birmingham

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My second wife, Jane, came to me in a dream around dawn the other day, and together we loaded up our respective plates with three large different dishes, which we both said might be more than we could eat without getting indigestion. That caused me to pull this below from  the the worst kinds of noise and related adventures in paradise – Key West and way beyond post at

What I heard from Tim Roosenberg at Impact Community Church somewhat reminded me of my father’s widow, his second wife, Joann, who nearly was run over by her own car in the driveway of my father’s home. She conceived that it was Satan who had tried to kill her and that led to her being converted into a far-right born-again Christian. Another way she could have viewed it was she had made a mistake and an angel of the Lord had saved her, a sinner, in the nick of time.

After the close call and her conversion, she came across as very sure of her high standing with God. I saw her do several terrible things in God’s name, and I, not even being a church-goer at the time, was the one who got to call her on it, and my father, too, because he was letting her get away with it. That’s what led to the estrangement between my father and me; he felt he had to choose one of us, and he chose her. I never told him he had to choose her or me; I simply told him to stop aiding and abetting the evil she was doing. I also told them both that she was getting gold stars in heaven for helping him, my father, get off booze and narcotics, and keeping him alive. He had a terrible pain in his back for several years, which the narcotics were used for. He was an alcoholic most of his life, but in his later years he got over that, as far as I knew. He was a professed Christian all his life, but I did not hear that he became a born-again Christian.

I had every right to be in that role, because I was the only person who stood with my father, I was his best man, I carried her wedding ring. I was God’s witness to their marriage, when my brother and my father’s brother and his wife, and all of my father’s friends opposed my father marrying her. I told my father that I didn’t know her, it was his life to live, not theirs, and he would have to live with her. He thanked me for saying that, and for agreeing to be his best man.

On receiving news of my father’s passing in August 2005, I wept, not because he had died, but because we had not patched things up between us. I had felt all along we would patch things up, but I was wrong. However, he for years had come to me in dreams with the kind of advice any son would want to have from his father. After he passed over, I was told in a dream that he had gone to heaven. He continued coming to me in dreams with advice I needed. He still does that.

I then struggled with what to next report, even as dreams about my father’s second wife, Joann, kept coming. A dream early this morning pointed me toward summarizing what I and my second wife, Jane, experienced with my father’s second wife, Joann, regarding her only child Suzanne’s only child, Landon, whose father was Ed Ash, or perhaps it was spelled Ashe. Ed and Suzanne both are deceased.

When it didn’t work out for Ed and Suzanne, they began divorce proceedings. I don’t remember how I heard of it, but what I heard was that Suzanne and Joann, and apparently my father, who would have had to bankroll it, offerend Ed money, the amount I did not hear, to give up all Ed’s parental rights to Landon, as part of Ed and Suzanne’s divorce settlement. I called Ed and told him what I’d heard and that I hoped he would not agree to it. He said he had no intention of agreeing to it. I said our conversation never happened. He said okay.

The divorce was finalized and Ed received, as I recall, twice a month weekend visitation with Landon, a week during the Christmas holidays, and I think a period of time in the summer. Landon was still young, maybe 2 years old, give or take.

The following Thanksgiving, Jane and I attended a family gathering at the in-laws of my brother Major’s first wife, Gail. Major and Gail’s two young children were there, and Suzanne, Landon, Joann and my father were there. At some point during the evening, Jane told me she had heard Joann say Landon loved her, Suzanne and his grandfather (my father), and God wanted Landon to spend Christmas with them.

The next day, I called Ed and told him what Jane had heard, and for him to try to head that off at the pass. He thanked me for calling, said he was supposed to have Landon for a week, including Christmas Day, and said he would do what he could.

Christmas Eve, Ed called to say he had been trying but had been unable to get Suzanne on the telephone at her home, so he could arrange a time to come by and pick up Landon. Nor was he able to reach Suzanne at my father’s home. The line was ways busy when he called there that day. I said I would go to my father’s home and see what was going on there, if anything.

I drove there and went in through the garage door into the kitchen and saw the kitchen telephone off the receiver on a chair under the telephone. I saw Joann, Suzanne and Landon in the play room off the kitchen. I walked through the kitchen though the house to the den, where my father hung out. He was there.

I told him that Ed had called me because he was unable to get in touch with Suzanne about picking Landon up for Christmas, and that Ed had told me he was only getting a busy signal when he called  my father’s home. I said Ed had said he had visitation rights this Christmas and he needed to be able to come by and pick up Landon. My father said all he knew was Landon was happy when he was there in his and Joann’s home. I said even so, there was a court order, and what Suzanne and Joann were doing was illegal. My father said he didn’t know about such things. I said he did know about such things and he was part of it, and he should get it straightened out. He said he would not do that. I said that was asshole, a father is entitled to be with his son. I said I’d had my own problems getting to see my daughters at times. My father did not budge. I said, okay, if that’s how it was going to be, then Jane and I would not be up there the next day for Christmas. I said I hoped it would not come to that, but no way I could be there  Christmas knowing what was going on.

I left, drove home, told Jane what all had happened. She agreed with me. I called Ed, gave him a full report and asked him to let me know if he was able to pick up Landon. Ed later called to say he still was not able to get through at my father’s home and Suzanne had not called him. Jane and I did not go to my father’s home the next day. Late in the day, my father came to our home with out Christmas presents and said we had ruined his and Joann’s Christmas. I said I was sorry about how it had gone, but our Christmas had been ruined by what he and Joann and Suzanne did.

Ed continued having trouble and I referred him to a local divorce lawyer I knew was from the other side of the tracks and would not feel any kind of social pressure from a prominent Birmingham family. From time to time I saw Ed’s lawyer, and he said he had filed suit but was not getting anywhere, Suzanne and her mother were stonewalling. My father’s law firm, which had zero divorce experience, zero child custody experience, was representing Suzanne. I figured my father was footing the legal bill, or the law firm was doing it for free because of how much money it made off my father and his company.

Then, I learned Suzanne had retained another lawyer, who knew what he was doing. I knew him about as well as I knew Ed’s lawyer. I wrote all of the above up and sent a copy to Suzanne’s lawyer and to Ed’s lawyer, showing both receiving copies. I said Jane and I were available to testify. When I saw Ed’s lawyer again, he said the stonewalling was still going on. He was at a loss how to get the matter resolved short of a trial. I said the way to do that was to subpoena my father and Joann as adverse witnesses. I said as soon as they realized they were going to have to be in court and be cross-examined and all of that getting into the local newspapers, the case would settle. When next I saw Ed’s lawyer, he said he had done what I had suggested and the case then had settled pronto. Ed had gotten the visitation straightened out.

There are other stories I could tell about Joann, the born-again Christian, but that one is on my plate for today, based on my dreams last night.

She is dying from Parkinson’s, a horrible disease I would not wish on anyone.

My father did not participate in any of my dreams leading up to this report. However, I view this report as the natural consequence of my father coming to me in a dream after he had crossed over, in which he told me he had meant to take care of some things before he left but had run out of time. On waking, I told him he’d had plenty of time but he had not wanted to take care of those things. I knew it had fallen onto me to take care of them, because I was his only child who would take care of what he had left undone, which he ought to have done. Looked to me that I was his only child who had truly loved him.

The internal toil leading up to this post today has been heaps of fun physically, emotionally, mentally and in my dreams. It’s still heaps of fun. I hope it pays off, makes me glad I did it, but that’s not why I did it. I did it because it was given to me to do.

Maybe more later.

Sloan Bashinsky

Posted in Today's Vulcanite | Leave a comment

the devil is in the details – transmogrification of God, USA at war, right-wing politics, left-wing politics, Christendom’s dance with Lucifer, Key West PD protects and serves KWPD …

devil on vacation

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Oil Tango
hawk eye
Enjoyed your comments about America and religion. To me, any religion which claims exclusivity and favoritism from God , which includes all major religions, is a cultural creation which holds out a view of Divinity which supports its national beliefs and goals (especially going to war and killing fellow human beings). As I have oft stated, religions have done more to alienate us from God and each other than any other institution. They create a god in man’s image .
After serving as a captain in an US Army artillery unit in Vietnam, Mike returned to the U.S. and began protesting America at war. He protested every American war since.
I replied:
Hi, Mike -
I have heard humans making God in their own image described thus:


[trans-mog-ruh-fahy, tranz-] Show IPA

verb (used with object), trans·mog·ri·fied, trans·mog·ri·fy·ing.

to change in appearance or form, especially strangely or grotesquely; transform.
A god who loves and promotes war, especially the likes of the Vietnam war in which you “defended Americans’ freedoms”, and the equally “patriotic” American wars thereafter, certainly is strange and grotesque.
Same for a god who burns all souls in hell who do not believe what mainstream Christendom says constitutes salvation based on their interpretation of a book which was assembled from various old writings by someone, or perhaps someones, at the request of a Roman Emperor several hundred years after Jesus in the Gospels walked this earth.
I could assign several impressions of such thinking:
mass brainwashing
mass psychosis
the work of the devil
Time to park my rocky horse again.
Raised Christian, Mike migrated to a spiritual perspective he felt suited him better, and in many ways it did. However, it is a persuasion which denies the existence of Evil even though Evil is ever present in plain view in America and in humanity. I don’t suppose on that Mike and I ever will agree. Nor that Evil loves not being acknowledged, because that makes it as easy for Lucifer to seduce whose who deny Evil’s existence as does thinking onward Christian soldiers marching under God as to war is USA invading Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan, and the smaller crusades in between. I told a Christian evangelist the other night that Vietnam killed America’s soul, Iraq and Afghanistan buried America’s soul, and now all left is for the autopsy report to come in. When he started to object, I reeled off some of Jesus’ sayings in the Gospels: resist not one who does evil, turn the other cheek, love, do good to and pray for your enemies … Ooops!
Moving laterally, a recent forward from a Florida Keys amiga:
Oh my, my
 KKK propaganda
It’s the next thing taxpayers will have to pay for!


God Bless America!
I replied:
Hi Jeanie,
I’ve been quietly looking at the right-wing hate Obama forwards you started passing along some time ago and I’ve been wondering what has gotten into you and I have become concerned for you. I don’ care for Obama, but when I bang him there is substance behind it. This latest from you smacks of KKK, and worse – Lucifer. And, it smacks of denial.
This fellow

G.W. Strangelove
went A.W.O.L. from the Alabama National Guard, into which his rich, influential father had gotten him so he would not have to go to Vietnam. Maybe if the son had gone to Vietnam and survived it, he would not have become Lucifer’s pawn and led America into Iraq, and then into Afghanistan, swallowing hook, line and sinker, as did most Americans, Lucifer’s bait, which was 9/11.
America did precisely what Lucifer wanted America to do, even as America claimed to be marching like Christians soldiers as to war, not in the slightest knowing that that means. That is an internal war, not an external war; a war against Evil within; a war neither the Republicans nor the Democrats understand, nor does Christendom, which is a Satanic cult pretending allegiance to Jesus but walking hand in hand with Lucifer into war after war after war. While Jesus sits on the sidelines, thinking, what happened to my teaching humans resist not one who does evil, turn the other cheek, love, do good to and pray for your enemies? While Jesus sits on the sidelines, weeping.
Jesus wept
You used not to put out right-wing propaganda, Jeanie; what happened to cause you to do that? What happened to the Jeanie who sent out the funny jokes? This KKK joke is not funny, Jeanie. It is tragic. Oh my, my …
Obama drones
When Barack Obama accepted the Nobel Peace Prize, while still waging G.W. Bush’s wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, he proved to me that what I was told after he beat out Hilary Clinton for the Democratic nomination in 2008 was true: “Barack Obama has the potential to be the Anti-Christ.” I barely shit for a month after he accepted the Nobel, and only after violent poetry about that burst out of me did my bowel unlock, all the proof I needed to know yet another US President was being run by Lucifer.
Nobel Peace Prize
The Anti-Christ looks like the Christ, many believe the Anti-Christ is the Christ, and that’s what Evil intends.
The angels told me years before 2008 that Christendom is the Anti-Christ, because it claims Jesus as Lord, but does not do as he said in the Gospels to do. That’s a hell of a thing to say about a religion, that it is being run by Lucifer; but that’s what’s going on.
Ditto USA.
Ditto Islam.
Ditto all religions on this planet.


A Key West work of the devil got another look see in today’s Friday edition of Key West the Newspaper –

Charles Eimers


An update into the death-in-custody of Charles Eimers reveals an investigation in total gridlock and it could remain that way indefinitely.  The main problem stems from the fact that apparently to date none of the officers present during the infamous Thanksgiving Day arrest has been interrogated by FDLE investigators.  How Charles Eimers ended up dead within five minutes of his altercation with Key West police is still not clear.

Sources close to the case have informed The Blue Paper that the officers’ union lawyer has instructed the fourteen KWPD officers involved not to talk with FDLE investigators until he is present.  A meeting has been scheduled for the 14th of this month but will likely result in the officers “pleading the Fifth”.  In other words, to avoid incriminating themselves they could decide not to cooperate with the investigation at all.

According to Dr. Scheurman, the Monroe County Medical Examiner, this is a considerable problem.  “I need to determine to what extent natural disease played a part in the cause of death; whether it a contributing factor or just incidental,” says Scheurman,  “The FDLE investigation will answer a lot of those questions.”

As we found out when speaking with Scheurman, the circumstances surrounding a death provide essential information in a medical examiner’s analysis.  The autopsy itself is just a part of the process and not necessarily all that it’s cracked up to be in movies.

A death from natural causes would be the likely outcome if the initial version presented by the police department prevails.  Officially Charles Eimers, 61, had collapsed while fighting the police and couldn’t be revived in spite of police efforts to save him.  A heart attack was assumed to be the probable cause of death since heart medications were found in his car.

However witnesses and a homemade video point to homicide. Was Eimers prone on his stomach with officers piled up on his back?  Was he tased, as several witnesses stated?  Was he elbowed in the head by Offficer Lovette, as Lovette allegedly admitted before an independent witness.  Was officer “KA” really accusing one of her fellow officers of murder that morning on South Beach?  Was Eimers resisting arrest or desperately trying to breathe?  Knowing the answers, according to the medical examiner, will be crucial in determining other possible causes of death, like asphyxia or trauma.

Last year in Milwaukee the county medical examiner decided to change his ruling on the cause of the in-custody-death of Derek Williams, 22, from ‘natural causes’ to ‘homicide’ after a local newspaper, the Journal Sentinel, published its own investigation.

Like in Key West, however, the official police description of Derek Williams’ arrest minimized the use of force.  The Journal Sentinel reports showed that Derek Williams might have died of asphyxia while in police custody.  A video showed Williams struggling to breathe for nearly eight minutes in the back of a police car before falling unconscious.  Forty-five minutes later he was pronounced dead.  The report was what caused the Milwaukee coroner to change his conclusion into a finding of homicide.

Obviously Monroe County’s medical examiner wants to avoid this kind of reversal of findings.  “At this point I am awaiting FDLE,” says Scheurman.  “I call them every week.  I will call them today. When Kathy Smith [the lead FDLE investigator] is done going through all of the officers’ statements we will have a meeting.  I will review any video – dash/cam, etc. and I will review FDLE’s information including any other investigative leads and combine that information with my findings.”

The cooperation of the officers is an essential part of the process.  Unfortunately, it seems that police departments across the county have devised a secret chart that helps them navigate their way out of trouble when their actions result in death (even when its all caught on camera).  The course laid out by officers is to “lawyer-up” immediately and refuse to cooperate.  In the case of Derek Williams a February 2013 inquest resulted in a recommendation that the three police officers that arrested Williams face criminal charges.  However, following the officers’ decision to plead the Fifth the prosecutor dropped the case for lack of evidence.

Similarly, in Miami, prosecutors decided in late December 2013 not to pursue criminal charges in the controversial death in custody of a 35 year old black man.  Corey McNeil was found pierced with 27 bullets – officers initially claimed McNeil was armed with a box cutter but later refused to cooperate with the investigation.  Unable to obtain statements from the officers, the State Attorney decided he couldn’t disprove the preposterous self-defense story and dropped the case.

Last month a jury rendered a non-guilty verdict for two Fullerton, California police officers in the death-in-custody case of Kelly Thomas, 37.  The case resembles the death in Key West of Charles Eimers.  Both Thomas and Eimers were presumed homeless.  They both appeared on video to be struggling beneath a magma of police officers. Both may have died of asphyxia. According to the Orange County medical examiner, Kelly Thomas “died of brain damage from lack of oxygen caused by chest compression and injuries to his face.”

Doctor Michael Lekawa who treated Thomas testified “during the confrontation with police various persons were on [Thomas] and holding him down preventing him from breathing.  He was doing everything he could to breathe.”

He might as well have been describing the Charles Eimers arrest on South Beach on Thanksgiving Day.  Thomas is heard in the police surveillance video yelling “I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe!.”  His voice gets lower and lower until he can no longer be heard.  At that point he was dead.  The prosecution however ran into the blue wall of silence.  None of the 6 officers who had been on scene agreed to testify.  Unable to assign blame amongst the officers present during the arrest, the jury failed to convict in spite of it being one of the most violent and disturbing arrests ever caught on camera.

Is Eimers case heading in the same direction?  Not necessarily.  According to criminal attorneys who spoke with The Blue Paper, Florida law has some special investigative tools not necessarily available elsewhere.  Under Florida Statute 406.12 it is a crime to refuse to provide the medical examiner with all of the known circumstances surrounding a death that falls within his jurisdiction.

How the Florida Statute making a criminal offense out of failure to assist the medical examiner and the Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination are supposed to play out might be a tricky legal issue. In Florida the duty to cooperate with the medical examiner and the associated criminal penalty for failure to do so applies to everyone equally.

Does this mean that the officers should be required to answer questions as long as the answers may not be used against them in a criminal prosecution?  Apparently, there is legal support for that argument.

Still, the investigators have to be willing to adopt a forceful approach, but this doesn’t appear to be the case when it comes to the Eimers investigation.  Now, more than two months after Eimers’ death, the medical examiner is still prevented from finishing his report, the body of the deceased was nearly cremated before autopsy and a key civilian witness who contacted The Blue Paper has yet to be interviewed despite the fact that they called the FDLE over six weeks ago.  It doesn’t appear that this investigation is on a fast track.

It’s particularly disturbing that the failure to report the death of Charles Eimers to the medical examiner [which nearly resulted in the cremation of Eimers’ body prior to autopsy] does not appear to be under investigation as the egregious obstruction of justice that it may have been.  Detective Todd Stevens, who was in charge of the KWPD investigation, claimed he wasn’t aware that Eimers had died, but phone records from the family and a statement by Eimers’ son Treavor to the contrary show that Stevens spoke to Treavor for eight minutes the day after Charles Eimer’s was removed from life support.

When we contacted the office of the State Attorney about this issue Assistant State Attorney Mark Kohl told us he believed FDLE was investigating that particular criminal matter [nearly cremating the body].  When we asked FDLE for confirmation they suggested we ask the KWPD if THEY were investigating.  KWPD told us they issued a reprimand against Stevens but didn’t conduct any sort of investigation.

Is the concept of the police investigating itself completely hopeless? Let’s hope not.


  1. The stakes are high. Any member of the government’s collective, who obstructs, perjuries or obfuscates the truth has committed a serious crime.

    Any State Attorney who knows, or ‘Should Have Known’, that malfeasance might have been a part of a criminal investigation; is in serious trouble if they do not expeditiously initiate their own independent investigation, separate and apart from the other investigating entities, so as to accurately determine the facts of the case.

    Prosecutorial Misconduct is the least of their worries. Prison cells cage prosecutors, police officers, corrections officers and wardens; alongside the very inmates that they put there.

    The truth will be gotten to in this case. After they beat and hog-tied an innocent man, they shipped him away to be isolated in solitary confinement for 30 months, for crimes he had not committed. On his first night caged in this wing, they allowed the inmate next to him to slowly strangle himself throughout the night until he was dead. Once their case against this man began to unravel, they contracted a hit on him. Then they threatened the life of an individual who secured the evidence that proved the innocence of the man they were determined to destroy.

    All of those responsible, in any way, for the crimes perpetrated upon this innocent man are now suffering.

    So will be the fate of those who impede a thorough and detailed investigation in this matter. Cognizant of the penalties that await them, if there was wrong doing, as the heat is applied the truth will be gotten at.

    Do not be discouraged during the early phases of ‘whatever it is they got going on’. They will all ‘snap to’ once these proceedings are gotten into the hands of the right people.

  2. This is just incredible! Is there no one to unlock this gridlock? Is the Key West Citizen looking at this incident at all? Besides going to court , is there any Federal charge that could force this case into the open air. as a violation of human rights? It certainly appears that the FDLE is not doing its job- and would we trust them now if they started to.? The KWPD is now disgraced in my eyes. What if this were your brother or father? Is this Iraq now?

  3. Well, Mr. coopers previous assertions that most cops are “good” has certainly failed the smell test.

    The fact that public employees will assert their 5th amendment rights in order to prevent an investigation to proceed is anathema to any moral, ethical standard one cares to put forth. it is certainly their right to exercise the 5th, but it is also the right of the people who fund these “officers” to expect them to be immediately removed from duty for doing so. These are public employees, and their work product is public property. There should be no protection for their continued employment if they refuse to provide that work product on demand.

  4. seems this is shaping up to a real pathetic fiasco of ‘stonewall’ from all parties involved in this so called ‘investigation’! individuals have a right to plead the 5th persuant to our united states constitution however if a police officer pleads the 5th they should be on the spot fired from the job of ‘protect and serve’ since the question arises ‘protect and serve’ WHO?

    secondly the union should butt its ass out of the picture in any criminal matter. this isn’t about a pay raise or health benefits or hours worked…its a criminal matter with possible murder charges so where in the world does the union get off with telling the police to plead the 5th.

    so far the fdle is doing just that it would appear. FIDDLING!

    as for the medical examiner needing the police investigation and the fdle investigation to complete his task i would think the tell tale signs of asphyxia would stand out in a crowd however i get the impression he may be looking perhaps hoping for a different outcome and for the life of me i don’t understand why he cannot get mr eimers past med records from his family for the final evaluation of cause of death precluding the need for this police and fdle ‘investigation’ con-job.

    the chief needs get off his backside and be way more pro-active in this case but i sure as hell won’t hold my breath on that one.

    lastly where o where has the city commission gone o where o where can they be! [sung to the tune of where oh where has my little dog gone] need i say more on the subject of thier ‘silence’.

    lastly do the citizens of key west need arm themselves for self protection from rouge elements of the kwpd? or need they organize a militia for self protection against traffic stops?

    to key west authorities…
    and let the chips fall where they may.

  5. Perhaps because I once practiced law and had some dealings with law enforcement and heard stories, I am not surprised over how the investigation of this case has gone so far. Perhaps because I have lived 71 years, regardless of my having practiced law, I am not surprised. Protect and Serve has different meanings, depending on who is being asked. Protect and Serve law enforcement officers, regardless of what they do, is what Protect and Serve means to police benevolent unions and to most law enforcement officers. In this case, we apparently have one KWPD officer, a female officer, who called it as she saw it, but now where is she? Is she talking with FDLE? Is she talking with KWPD Chief Donie Lee? Is she talking with State Attorney Cathy Vogel? Is this female officer going to blow the whistle like Kathy Reitzel did on Monique and Randy Acevedo, and become the State’s star witness? Or is this female officer going to protect and serve her fellow police officers? Time will tell. I wonder if she is a Christian? I wonder if that is chewing on her? I wonder if the other 13 officers are Christians? I wonder if that is chewing on them? I wonder if the police benevolent union advisers are Christians? I wonder if that is chewing on them? I wonder if their lawyer representing the 14 officers is Christian? I wonder if that is chewing on him? These could be viewed as rhetorical questions, although I hope something will make them not rhetorical. Maybe we should not get all strung out about this. Maybe we should say whatever happened to Charles Eimers was his fault, because a KWPD officer suspected Eimers of being homeless. Ergo, all subsequent KWPD action was reasonable under the circumstances. Perhaps we should take comfort knowing karma is inexorable, it cannot be washed out by being a Christian, or by a failed investigation, or by anything human beings can manufacture or believe. The karma in this case might play out in ways hard to connect with the death of Charles Eimers. Karma can be really weird, it can turn pro, it can turn bizarre. As Dennis Reeves Cooper was and still is wont to say, perhaps we should stay tuned … Meanwhile, thank you Arnaud and Naja and whoever shot that video and smuggled it to you, for not letting the KWPD get clean away with it …

Moving further sideways, if not altogether backwards, naw, might be best to save that one for another day.

Sloan with troll

Sloan Bashinsky

Posted in Today's Vulcanite | Leave a comment

the white man’s legacy in the Americas: civilize and save the savages, one nation, under God, one human family, and other fairy tales in but hardly indigenous to Key West of Weird …

Jesus weptJesus wept

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Wade DavisWade Davis

Night before last I finished finished a really slow and long, but also really interesting read of the Canadian anthrolopologist turned ethnobotanist Wade Davis’ One River, about Davis and an friend and their ethobotanist mentor and his British ethnobotanist role model’s explorations of the plants and indigenous peoples of the upper Amazon basin in Columbia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia and Brazil. After reading the last page, I told the angels that avaricious white men and their Catholic and Protestant religions sure did screw up that area of South America and its many diverse tribes of people, who, as Davis told it, and I felt he told it well, were doing a whole lot better before the arrival of the white man and his religions. I suppose, though, you’d have to read One River to make your own determination. I will turn the copy I read back into the county library today.

Christian crusades

Also night before last, I had a slew of dreams of my having dealings with Christian evangelists ranging from cult leaders to groups of young school children. I imagine what kicked that off was my having unexpectedly spent the Super Bowl among Christian evangelists of various ages and their leader, who left me with the sense they are going to be really surprised when they pass on from this world and see what life is like on the other side. The most interesting, for me, part of meeting this cult has been seeing them be blocked at every turn from leaving Key West to proselytize their views elsewhere. I told them God wanted them in Key West, because it is humanity’s proxy: as Key West goes, humanity is measured by heaven. I think maybe they thought I worked for the Devil, even though I told them many times who runs me.

laughing Jesus

I suppose as part of those dreams playing out in my waking life, born-again Christian Tim Gratz, of Key West, replied to part of yesterday’s Key West – ship of fools, under God, so to speak …  post at

Tim Gratz

You wrote:

When I recite the Pledge of Allegiance at city commission and other government meetings, I leave out “under God” because that was not part of the Pledge when I learned it in grammar school, (So?) and because all nations are under God, (yes, in one sense all nations are “under God” but one thing that distinguishes the United States is that we acknowledge God’s sovereignty on our currency, in the pledge of allegiance, etc. Other nations may also so acknowledge (I am not sure) but for the pledge to state that our nation is “under God” does not imply that other nations are not. If I said, Timothy Gratz, under the laws of Florida, that does not imply that I am the only Floridian. Your logic is wrong here.) although few nations, if any, do God’s will. (Your latter phrase is probably true and reminds me of the famous Lincoln quote that what matters is not if God is on our side but rather if we are on God’s side.)

I replied:

I think you missed the point – entirely.

Saying you are under God, or godly, does not make it so. What you do determines that. America has done plenty to prove it is not under God, or godly.

When I was a kid, the “under God” addition to the Pledge was a response to communism and was added to distinguish America from the Soviet Union. “under God” was self-serving, boastful, arrogant and just plain incorrect, and nothing has changed.

The Nation of Islam makes a similar boast. The Nation of Christendom makes a similar boast. The Nation of the Vatican makes a similar boast. I believe some Jewish sects make a similar boast. And that’s all it is, boasting. Birds of a feather.

Tim wrote:

I may not agree but now I see your point, that at least in your opinion America does not act like it us “under God” so it is hypocritical to so calim. Might well agree with you but need to reflect on it a bit.

After being pointed in nap dreams to Kentucky and Nashville, Tennessee, I wrote to Tim:

I like it that America acknowledges God exists, and that it also recognizes there needs to be freedom of religion and freedom from it, so to speak. I do not like America, or any country, including the ones I named in my prior email, and adding to those the Republican and Democratic parties, and all political parties in America, saying they are in God’s favor, which is the precise meaning of “under God” in the Pledge of Allegiance. Make no mistake, Islam believes it is favored by God over America, and over Christendom and Judaism, and over all other religions on this world. I have just as big a problem with that, as I do with “under God” in the Pledge.

My mother’s parents were from westernish Kentucky. They were staunch southern Baptists, but they did not preach God to me; they simply loved and doted on me, and I loved seeing and being around them. My father’s parents also were staunch Southern Baptists, same church in Birmingham. My grandmother Bashinsky was deranged and I had little dealings with her in my youth. My grandfather Bashinsky was a pious man who preached his will for me, as he had done to my father. I didn’t care much for that grandfather, although I enjoyed the money he left me and my children enjoyed the money he left them.

I’m sure both sets of my grandparents felt America was favored by God, but neither set preached that to me. Nor did my parents preach that to me. I got sent off to a private high school in Chattanooga, The McCallie School, founded by two right-wing Presbyterian brothers, one still living when I was there. He preached in daily student body devotionals that he was a member of the Elect and Nikita Kruschev was the Anti-Christ and we would be called on to use the M-1′s we marched with 5 days a week to defend America from the Godless communists. He also told our Bible class that he had his wife of 60 years had had sex three times, twice to have children, once for pleasure, and he had regretted the third time ever since. His poor wife.

For me, “under God” in the Pledge is religious fanaticism, and it was the product of religious fanaticism when it was put into the Pledge. I think I recall hearing George W. Bush say on TV, or maybe read it in a news article, that God was telling him to invade Iraq. Something told him to invade Iraq, okay, but it was not God.

The creed of my Vanderbilt [Nashville] college fraternity, Kappa Alpha Order, Dieu et les dames, God and the women, still resonates with me. It’s an aspiration, not a boast; a pledge to try to follow God and be knightly in my dealings with women. Not that I didn’t trample that creed many times, as does Key West trample One Human Family many times, especially in its dealings with homeless people. However, KA’s creed was an exhortation. KW’s creed is, sadly, a boast, just like “under God” in the Pledge of Allegiance is a boast.

“God is great!” is not a boast, it is a statement of fact, or belief, depending on your actual experience with God. My god is greater than all other gods is a boast. My country, under God, is a boast. Boasting is a magnet for karma, not the fun kind. Just as KW invited severe testing by God for boasting it is One Human Family, America invited severe testing by God for boasting it is under God. Angels of the Lord decide who is “under God”, and to what degree. They also determine karma dispensation.

Personally, I doubt God gives a whole lot, if any, thought to America, Christendom, Islam, Judaism, or any religion on this world, which includes political parties. Vast as the Creation is, tiny as this planet is in the Big Scheme of Things, this world’s religions way over estimate their importance in God’s Infinite Eternal Unlimited Kingdom. Too bad “God’s will, not ours, be done” is not printed on all US currency. Too bad “God’s will, not ours, be done” is not how each public prayer ends.


In the same vein, from the most recent Keynoter -

Boundaries stretched with City Council prayers, which receive criticism
February 5, 2014

The prayers at City Council meetings are drawing some criticism.
Invocations to open Marathon City Council meetings could be on their way out.

Marathon Mayor Dick Ramsay says he’ll do “everything I can to pull the plug” on the practice, which the council approved in December, if they continue to be heavily religious.

“If this continues, I’m absolutely committed to bringing this back to the council for reconsideration,” he said.

Marathon Church of God Pastor Nick Vaughn stirred the pot at the Jan. 14 council meeting when he used the word “Jesus,” which is apparently not allowed. Those giving invocations are permitted to say “God,” but not allude to any particular faith.

That created some backlash, but the issue has been exacerbated since Martin Luther Chapel Rev. Bruce Crabtree’s prayer prior to the Jan. 28 council meeting. Crabtree’s invocation went on more than three minutes and, while it didn’t allude to any particular faith, sounded like a sermon to some residents.

Speaking to God, he said, “the principles you have established go beyond the basic laws of science.” He alluded to creationism as the reason for the universe.

Councilman Mark Senmartin was the lone dissenter when the council voted to approve pre-meeting prayer and has remained seated for each invocation. He called Crabtree’s invocation a “creationist” speech.

“We need to make stricter the language so everybody knows what they’re allowed to say,” Senmartin said.

“This is exactly what I was concerned about,” he said. “Maybe the only thing that hasn’t happened yet is any particular groups saying, ‘We haven’t been represented here and now we want to sue you.’ That’s the only thing that hasn’t gone wrong yet.”

Vaughn told the Keynoter that a letter he received from the city inviting clergy members to participate did not prevent him from saying “Jesus.” He said he would not have volunteered if it had.

“What the letter said was we were to be sensitive to other people’s faith, in not so many words. It never said anything about not invoking the name of Jesus,” Vaughn said.

Councilwoman Ginger Snead, who sponsored the idea for invocations, defended Vaughn by noting the city letter does not forbid particular words, nor does the six-page resolution establishing the policy for the pre-meeting prayer.

The resolution requires only that “invocations did not advance or disparage a belief or affiliate government with specific faith.”

“In his mind, he went by what he was given and what our resolution says. He did what he was given, so he can’t be faulted for that. If we want something different, then that’s on us as a council,” she said.

Snead added that she’s received almost no feedback on the issue and that it would be a “power play” to attempt removing the prayer after just two meetings.

“It’s a sad state of affairs when with all the things we have going on in the city of Marathon that this is what people are worried about,” she said.

Vaughn told the Keynoter his Christian “faith instructs him” to believe in the Holy Trinity, so “when I’m invoking or praying to God, I’m praying to Jesus.”

Crabtree said his invocation was similar to many he’s given during his career. He moved to the Keys from Michigan in October.

“It was immensely shorter than a sermon would have been, and as such my expectation was that it was the appropriate length. I’m sorry if anyone was offended or people thought it went on too long,” he said.

“It would appear that whatever is said, someone is going to take exception to it,” Ramsay said. “Because of that and because the city is not in the business of creating controversy over faith-related issues, I personally think we should reevaluate what we’re doing.”


Mark Freedman
The first amendment guarantees that the government shall not establish a religion, nor prohibit the free practice thereof. Clearly this has been established as an absolute separation of church and state. It is time to give up these invocations and focus on governing Marathon.
Reply · 3 · Like · Follow Post · 15 hours ago

Anthony Bartleson · Head Monkey at Monkey Business
You should keep your imaginary friend to your self!
Reply · 1 · Like · Follow Post · 12 hours ago

Mary Asher Fischer Fineberg · George Mason University
I think Marathon has a whole lot more to worry about than how a council person says an opening prayer. People just need to be respectful and tolerant. And as far as praying before meetings, we need prayer – as human beings, we need all the help we can get!
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Bill Dunn · Top Commenter
Churches and homes are places for prayers and sermons. Council meetings are for conducting public business. Stop this tyranny of the Christian majority, please.
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Carol Tabellione Bartleson
It’s simple, especially to those who are always “preaching” the Constitution: Separation of Church and State.
Reply · 2 · Like · Follow Post · 12 hours ago

Meghan Donohue Vaughn · Works at Volunteer
Disclaimer: I’m Pastor Vaughn’s spouse. Pastor Nick is representing graciously in the community. :-) Offering a general public prayer is not a conflict. The Constitution states, “government shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.” Government meetings from The Presidential Inauguration to the House of Representatives have an officiant whom offers a public prayer. It’s not an compulsion or endorsement but a reflection that we are a society with spiritual beliefs and practices. If “the reflection,” i.e., the simple prayer, is not your cup of tea, do as Mr. Senmartin did, ignore it, sit down or meditate upon your own personal beliefs. But do not kid yourself into thinking your rights are being violated. Unless one is a historical revisionist with one’s head in the sand, one cannot deny the influence of Judeo-Christian sacred writings and philosophy upon our Constitution and society, and the traditions of faith that informed the Framers of the Constitution of the United States.

Sloan Bashinsky · Janitor at God, Inc.
For me, there is nothing imaginary about God, angels, demons. I have the direct experience ongoing, and have had for many years now. The main “imaginary beings” who ride me like I’m a pack donkey are Jesus, Archangel Michael and Magdalene-Melchizedek (Melchizedek is an angelic order). For me, God, angels, demons are as real as any person I know. I don’t believe what I know from direct experience exists independently of any religion. However, I don’t care for people coming to government meetings and making prayers based on their personal beliefs, nor do I go to government meetings and make prayers, and if I did make such a prayer in a government meeting, requested or not, it would be short and sweet, something like, “God, please help us, we need your help!” or “God, please show us the best way to do what we have to do”, or “Your will, not ours, be done, O Lord”. I cannot imagine the people who invited the pastors and the pastors did not know they were pushing the envelop, and I would remind them, and others, of Matthew 6:6: “But when you pray, go into your private room, shut your door, and pray to your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” As far as the US Constitution being based on the Bible (Judeo-Christian views), I don’t see that in the Constitution as a lay person nor as a lawyer. The Declaration of Independence makes several references to the Almighty, but none look Christian or Jewish to me. A number of times I have told the Key West City Commission that only God can change/fix long-term street people and/or addicts. They didn’t seem to care for hearing that, but that seemed because they didn’t like hearing there was no secular solution, not because only God had the solution. Dorothy Sherman, the founder of the soup kitchen in Key West , and after she passed on, her successor, Angela (don’t recall her last name), used to say “It’s our job to feed homeless people, it’s God’s job to change them.” The First Amendment not only protects freedom of religion, but also freedom from it. The Founding Fathers were well aware of church-controlled governments in England and Europe mistreating people who did not follow the state-church party line, mistreating is an understatement as I read history. They did not wish to see that happen in their new nation. I read where Thomas Jefferson, the author of the Declaration of Independence, who was not a Christian, led the charge against an effort to make Christianity the state religion in the Virginia Constitution, and he was successful in preventing that from happening. Proselytizing is one thing, praying to God for help, guidance, is something else altogether, and I imagine every person I know knows the difference.
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In Monday’s Key West Citizen -

Stand up for our Muslim friends, oppose bigotry

Let us stand up for our Muslim friends against the nonsense and ignorance being promoted by the Islamophobe and snake oil salesman Tim Roosenberg.

Apparently, Impact Community Church in Key West invited this bigotry and intolerance into our community and it is despicable. It seems everyone in the city received an invitation to listen to sheer nonsense. This “crusade” against Islam masquerading as biblical prophecy is just another ploy by those with a political purpose to justify so much suffering in our world. These folks are of the same persuasion as those who have justified enslaving Africans, stoning women, corraling Jews, and putting gays to death. Because of their vulnerability, Muslims are the latest group to be targeted. This individual will be spewing his ignorance in Key West for a couple of weeks, and Impact Community Church is giving him the platform.

Reach out to your Muslim friends in this community and elsewhere to let them know that you do not condone hatred, bigotry and intolerance. If you have no Muslim friends, educate yourself, reach out and seek out knowledge instead of stupidity.

Kent Ducote
Key West

struck by lightning

I will never forget sitting in a Methodist Sunday school class in north Georgia, in June 2004, listening to the Sunday school teacher, a bikers for Christ gang leader, rant about how much he hated Muslims and that they all needed to be killed, as the class members sat there nodding their heads in agreement. Finally, I asked, “What about Jesus? What about turn the other cheek, love, do good to and pray for your enemies? The rant continued, the nodding heads continued. I bellowed, “Don’t Christians read the Bible?! In Genesis God told Abraham that Ishmael’s seed would become a great nation and would cause Isaac’s seed trouble. God predicted the war between Islam (Ishmael’s seed) and Judaism and Christendom (Issac). So what are you complaining about?”

You could have heard a pin drop. There was no further discussion that day of killing Muslims.

Christendom’s problem, and it is a really big problem, by claiming salvation through Jesus, Christendom requires of itself Jesus’ standard of behavior in the Gospels, which is a far higher standard of behavior than people practiced in that day before Jesus was in their midst. Nothing has changed since then.

On another Key West behavior front, the vicious van dweller criminal (when he’s in Key West) Kurt Wagner replied to parts of yesterday Key West – ship of fools, under God, so to speak …  post at


Thumbs down (part 1)

Once again the City Commissioners tried to put their collective thumbs on the heads of the “financially challenged” residents of Key Weird. In typical fashion Rossi and Yaniz voted against allowing two benches being placed outside an ice cream shop for the simple reason a homeless person might put his unwashed ass on it. There are very few places in Key Weird for visitors to sit a few minuets to rest. I’m sure Rossi would prefer to have them sit in the bar at his “entertainment complex” so he can continue reaping the profits of his overpriced drinks. With any luck, when these two are 85 years old and not walking too well, I hope they collapse on Duval St. for lack of a place to rest. Kurt Wagner. temporarily in St.Thomas VI

Thumbs Down (part 2)

Are Yaniz and Rossi afraid of the “financially challenged”? Do they think all the crime is committed by them? How much crime is committed by the “financially challenged”? I looked up the arrests for a 7 day period ending Feb 1. The Key Weird Storm Troopers made 28 arrests. (they didn’t murder anyone) 6 homeless (21%), 7 out of town (25%) and 15 residents of Key Weird or Stock Island (54%) So who are the dangerous ones? I’m more in fear of the residents than any others! Kurt Wagner. temporarily in St. Thomas, VI


I, Sloan, imagine that in God’s eyes we all are are criminals and homeless.

Jesus with leper

Maybe when their rolls are called up yonder, homeless people (the least, in Key West mainstream’s sense) will be at the front of the line, and mainstream people (the greatest, in Key West mainstream’s sense) will be at the end of the line wondering, like homeless people at the end of the line each evening at KOTS (Key West’s overnight homeless shelter) wonder, if they will be able to get in when they reach the front of the line?

Maybe when their rolls are called up yonder, Christians who believe only they stand in favor with God will have a similar end of the line experience, ie. standing behind Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Taoist, Hindus, New Agers, Atheists, Pagans, Indigenous Peoples, etc.?

Maybe when their roll is called up yonder, Key West Christians, who believe only they are members of God’s One Human Family, will find themselves at the end of that line behind of all other Key West people?

If you claim One Human Family as your creed, you set a far higher standard for yourself before God, than if you do not claim that as your creed.

Sloan in collarpriest garb provided by the mischievous pirate boss‘s popular Coconut Telegraph bitch and praise blog

Meanwhile, not entirely just for chuckles, from Facebook yesterday:

Gloria Reiser shared msnbc‘s photo.
Bill Nye is an excellent example of a competent debater. And I liked that he acknowledged that we don’t understand consciousness, we don’t know what caused the Big Bang, or what may exist outside of our Universe.
“It’s so important for me, as a guy who grew up in the United States, that we have a future of innovation, of scientists and engineers that can help, dare I say it, change the world.” - @[48947135361:274:Bill Nye The Science Guy] </p><br /><br /><br /><br />
<p>After his faceoff at the @[54598611677:274:Creation Museum], Bill Nye joined @The Last Word with @[114945745226947:274:The Last Word With Lawrence O'Donnell]. It’s a must-watch interview:
“It’s so important for me, as a guy who grew up in the United States, that we have a future of innovation, of scientists and engineers that can help, dare I say it, change the world.” – Bill Nye The Science GuyAfter his faceoff at the Creation Museum, Bill Nye joined @The Last Word with The Last Word With Lawrence O’Donnell. It’s a must-watch interview: 

Like ·  · Share · 6 hours ago · 
  • Sloan Bashinsky I wonder how the scientist and the theologian would respond to my saying angels told a good friend of mine and me that the dinosaurs were sentient and when they had used this planet for what they needed from it, they went on their way to wherever they were next to be? – I mean their souls moved on, not their bodies, which became fossils, oil and gas, etc.

Sloan with troll

Sloan Bashinsky

Posted in Today's Vulcanite | 1 Comment

a gospel of Jesus, Mary Magdalene and Judas, a reincarnation of Paul

Magdalene & JesusStar of David

for many years now, the “Star of David” has for me been the symbol of Melchizedek, an order of angel mentioned in Genesis and elsewhere in the Old Testament and in the Letter to the Hebrews in the New Testament; I was told in maybe 1992, in a deep trance, “Melchizedek … Melchizedek is an order of angel … Melchizedek comes to a planet in trouble to prepare it to receive the Christ … the Christ does not come to a planet without Melchizedek … Mary Magdalene was of the Order Melchizedek …”

In the New Testament Letter to the Hebrews is said, Jesus Christ is high priest in Melchizedek …

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Presented below is a string of emails started by Jason, a fellow I met years ago in Key West but hardly remembered any of what he described we did together. His first email was written under the subject heading, “Life is a strange tale”. I tried to fix typos in the many emails which followed, but I imagine there are still quite a few. It’s kinda long, you might wish to fetch provisions to tide you over. It does, however, tie up a lot of loose ends and answer many questions raised in the New Testament, in my own mind, which I for some time have felt should be put into one body of writing for what, if anything, it might be for for other people. I had no clue it would end up where it went, when I first heard from Jason:

JWH . (
Hello again Sloan,
My name is Jason and we have met, in person. You watched me perform a couple songs, on different occasions at the poetry slam there at Sippin, sometime between ’04 and ’08. We have played between 25 to 35 chess games; all of them took place at Sippin. Initially I dominated you on the board, but at our last chess encounter(around ’08-09?) my unorthodox and out-of-practice style was no match for your Patrick-based tutelage and you trounced me every game. At the time of that trouncing I was in the midst of what you, and many others before you, have come to know as a “dark night of the soul”. I have had several such visitations/episodes, of varying degrees of intensity, since I was about 17 and twice ended up in the psych ward(once voluntarily in Depoo and the other involuntarily in Pennsylvania). If I live to see April 1st, I will be 36.
Tell Patrick I say hi, and peace be upon him,  he may or may not remember me. Our last interaction was at his place, where he gave me a poetry anthology of all women poets. If he is still residing where I last left him, he will be doing so at the Porter Place complex, just behind an apt where my friend Dustin B—- used to live. Dustin is, amongst other things, a soul who has been through many trials as well, and an “outsider” artist of exacting qualities; he can also be seen in the Eimers video, riding his bike down the pier towards the camera itself. He gave me a small collection of his work but over the years I have given all but one away. There is a photo of that one work attached to this e-mail. Perhaps you have met him, he is not unike Patrick in many ways but is also quite different. He can and may tell you of his encounter(s) with various lesser gods and demiurges rooted in the Hindu culture, but being raised myself to be aware of Christ as The demiurge it seemed rather foreign and unrefined to me- Not any less real than anyone elses experience mind you, only rather limited in its context, as I’m of the awareness that all organized religions have varying types and degrees of truth to them, but they usually contain a greater amount of myths and outright lies. Keeping in mind though, that myths are rooted in realities, just as the myths of dragons and cyclops came from the medieval discoveries of unidentifiable dinosaur bones and elephant skulls.But I have already digressed, for you yourself may or may not remember me. Most recently I commented on your post concerning Frisbee Dave, and noted I was not sympathetic(sharing the same views as he) but empathetic towards him. Even before he self-identified as a devil(which is a bit different than someone else claiming you are one because your speech or actions have displeased them) supporting him had not been without its discouragements, both from myself and my friends/coworkers at the Sugar Apple. Perhaps just an abridged back-story is necessary. I had arrived in Key West on the Day of the Dead 2003?, with little more than a backpack and a goal. Two days later I had two dead-end disposable jobs and was living out of the hostel. My plan was to get a job with my CDL, save up money for a sailboat, and then get the fuck out of this country and stay gone. Sysco gave me a driving job a month later, but It didn’t quite work out the way I had planned so I was about to go back to just sleeping in the rough(back to bushes, beaches, buildings etc; but stealthily so, and avoiding other “street people” and their clandestined behaviors). Instead I lucked across a job at the Sugar Apple, and shortly thereafter met Dave. The Sugar Apple family welcomed me with open arms, and if not for them all that followed would not have come to be. A couple years passed, and, with a private loan from my Sugar Apple friends, I got the sailboat I dreamed of. Three months later hurricane Wilma left it sitting 10 miles away in a foot of water off Big Coppitt. Strangely enough, Arnaud Girard was the salver that got that boat off the rocks, for a fee. At the time I was obviously a bit miffed and only saw him as an opportunist taking advantage of the situation- but he had kids to feed and his own dream to save up for(a house in Key West) so I won’t fault him for that, not to mention he’s good people and a saint compared to 99% of the rest of Key West. Needless to say, my earthly dream had become a millstone around my neck. There was $23,000 to pay back and I only got $6000 from Fema and another $5000 from selling the boat. The next few years passed in self-imposed indentured servitude, in “paradise” (Call me crazy, but paradise doesn’t have so many pavements, capitalists, or tourists asking if that little island off Mallory square is Cuba). During those years Dave would come by twice week to clean the floors at the Sugar Apple and take the garbage out. He became a source of great comic relief in my otherwise apathetic existence. But Dave had to be let go eventually due to his cyclically erratic behavior, usually brought on by the summer heat and lack of audience for his act.  Unfortunately, my tenure there had to end as well- a problem customer, who had repeatedly shown herself to be antagonistic towards me, became combative over a trifle and I decided not to come in the following day. Overnight, I went from being like a son to the owners to being, in there eyes, an adversary. All because I did what I felt I had to do and quit without notice. My own loss of respect for them also had contributed to that decision. Shortly thereafter I was living in the mangroves behind the bridle path. And thanks to the cops rounding everyone else into the shelter, I had the place to myself. It seemed to be of my own volition as well, because instead of going to find another job or moving to another town I stocked up on camping supplies. With a mosquito netted hammock and a machete and my bike with pannier bags I found it very economical and even back to reality, compared to living on that almost completely manufactured landscape know as the “real Key West”. The only thing it lacked was a large tomcat to take care of all the tree rats. Dave had lived back there on and off for 25 years, though in his case it may have been devolutionary rather than progressive. The word “Homeless” is a pejorative that the “mainstreamers” most often use to shame those other humans that actually are often quite at home without the need of a house or superfluous belongings, which is why they’re despised almost as much as, if not more than, cockroaches.A couple months passed, and with the help of G. W.’s tax stimulus refund, I purchased a ticket for Dominica. A few people had told me of an island that was barely developed and pristine, nearly as close to its’ natural state as anywhere on the planet at this time; but you weren’t one of them, and, as far as I can recall, our conversations almost never left the chess board and the couple times they did you handed me a chap-book of your poetry, or we argued whether Patrick had chosen, and continues to choose, what you refer to as his dis-ease. Toko Irie, Vicki Boguzewski, and a friend living on the hook had all told me about Dominica. And I had turned it into a mythological place where anyone might go and be transformed, back to a more ‘natural state’. So I went, and boy was I transformed. Too long a story for anything less than a book, and I lack the self-interest and worldly ambition it would now take to write that book. Not even counting Dominica I already had too many books to write.Now all of this is not too strange a tale, but merely a chain of events that occurred in a small town where many other chains of events have and are now unfolding- but most of those involve booze, weed, crack, money, whores(business-owners that actually can’t stand tourists but salivate at the thought of their money, politicians, and just your run-of-the-mill-world’s-oldest-profession-types) and various other physical sensations rooted in the seven deadlies. Having done my share of abusing substances from age 15 to 21, beautiful women were then my one stumbling stone left, and much to my dismay Key West offered me plenty of temptation. But then even all the self-proclaimed “artists” and “authors”, supposedly the most transcendent of our race, are giving in to the temptation of Pride that they love so much, even as they bump and grind and suck off each others egos they are no better or worse than you or I, or the next drunk you may come across. Like us they are human, and, ultimately, Key West has far too many temptations to offer for anyone other than an actual saint- pick your poison, it’s there and it will corrode you, unless you have given up all worldly things, beyond what maintenance would require, to follow and serve Christ (and if you have done that, then Key West is the perfect place for you to do your work). Incidentally, I feel I should mention that P&T no longer view themselves as my friends because in so many words I told them it was not a wise thing to own too many million dollar houses in a world where there are people going without a roof, and, worse, starving to death. I did all I felt I could, which was to warn them, but they failed to see it as anything more than a judgment, to which Phil responded “I won’t defend myself for being fruitful”. I am not the Judge, merely one of the accused; I am not the Director of the asylum, merely a patient. I suppose I am a zealot in their eyes, or a hypocrite because I still myself have a roof over my head at the moment- though I would prefer not to, I’m simply tolerating it.
Besides all of this and that, there is the very strange tie that binds my consciousness and experience to yours. Before now I had only viewed your blog a handful of times, to catch up on Key West goings on. But of late it seems there are far too many similarities between our separate experiences to ignore. The Key West experience, followed by the Dominica experience (which in many ways are polar opposites) was a catalyst for, and precursor to, what I can only describe as a revelation. It can only be described, by me, as an inner experience of direct contact by and with the Absolute. other than that very vague description there is no way anyone will ever know what I’m talking about unless it happens to them. And I mean this in the most mystical way in relation to myself. Because although I had had some various inexplicable mystical experiences since my early childhood and a lifelong dialogue with my own conscience or I knew not what, by the time of this most transcendent experience I had given up on believing in a God as anything distinct from, or personal to, people. It seemed to me, before the revelation, that God was only a very noble aspiration or hope of the human psyche too often transmuted into selfish, child-like belief-systems by the overwhelming majority of people, no matter what cultural contexts it was filtered through(Buddhist, Abrahamic, Hindu, Shinto, etc.) Following my revelation I have no doubts of Divine truth, peace, and justice, of the Origin or absolute governance of all and everything in existence inside and outside of time(s) both linear and spatial; nor am I able to do anything with only myself in mind. I have become a fool, completely and hopelessly, in the eyes of the world of mankind- but since my birthday is on April fool’s day, I’d always viewed myself as such anyway. So what have I lost?But this is not where our synchronicity ends. After living in the jungles and Carib reserve of Dominica for the summer of ’08 and deciding to come back, only to be given a Frances of Assisi style revelation and then be commited, my weakness in the flesh eventually led to my now being in a family situation, with parental responsibilities. In the interim I also was at home without a house on Maui, on little beach and in the western forest preserve, and ate good meals thanks to the Catholic church in Kihei.  We’ve also spent time in many of the same Greyhound stations, and  there was that week spent, when I was 7, at my maternal aunt’s place… in Quincy, Illinois (just upriver from Granite City where I was born). But again, these are all just the kind of coincidences that happen on a small planet that is ever growing smaller, right?Well, my little family and I are going to the Oregon dunes for MLK weekend, so I’ve got to go pack for that. But I often ask myself, ‘did I miss the call?’. Did I have a chance to be off this mortal coil for good when the time came, and to be free of these pesky physical drives that I so loathe my bio-mechanical monkeysuit for keeping me chained to, in weakness and slavery. Was my final temptation much like that of Willem Defoe’s character in “The Last Temptation of Christ”, to have a family and be at home here in the world? If so, did I fall prey to it because, while it is fraught with its own troubling and burdensome aspects, it is familiar and still not as narrow and steep a way as was suggested to me? How can I rationalize it any better but to say to myself ‘oh I’m sure I’m doing more good here and now, by being in my daughters life rather than scarring her for life and leaving her for the sake of what may just be a delusion, a momentary lack of reason’? Yeah, that’s it, I’m sure that’ll go over well when the Boss asks me why I shirked the duties that were given me. And would it have been better for you in the long-view to have given all you had inherited to St Mary’s soup kitchen, rather than to have spent much of it on house, restaurants, movies, websites, publishing, self-promotion, and some here and there to whomever struck your fancy?
Perhaps we’ll live long enough, you and I, to find out, JWH

sloan bashinsky
To: JWH .
Hi, Jason –

I confess, right now you are drawing a blank in my mind’s eye, but the name Jason connected with Sippin’ sounds familiar.
Yours in an interesting tale indeed, on Dominica I had many experiences with what a human mind cannot be wrapped around, as I was leaving following my first visit, the island’s spirit came to me and enveloped me and I nearly burst into tears in the little airport just north of Roseau. The second, and only other physical visit, was the following year, and then I was put to work to attempt to stop two major developments, one of the Atlantic Coast, the other on the Caribbean side.
In 2001, in Sippin’, Vicki B. told me that the development on the Caribbean Coast had gotten washed away in a flood during a hurricane. I had met the two lawyers representing the Dominican government, and we’d had several conversations about the development, and I had tried to warn them that it might not go as they hoped. In 2006, the son of the white Dominican who was trying to sell to the Atlantic-side developer told me that one had not worked out. In 2006, I had stayed a month on their property, had met the developer, and had told the landowner not to sign anything without getting paid in full at the same time. So, it does not surprise me that you had your experience on Dominica.
Might be, you are doing with your family precisely what you are supposed to be doing. Getting married, having and raising children, is part of living on this world for most people. Maybe you need to experience that to round you out. I experienced some of that with children of my own, but not enough, probably, truncated by divorce and them moving an hour’s drive away, then me moving to New Mexico, then this and that, and then total estrangement, perhaps all rooted in my not really being there for my children when they were young, for a variety of reasons, most not pretty on my part.
I did with the inheritance I received from my father on Valentine’s Day, 2006, what I was directed to do with it, starting with moving to Little Torch Key and buying the trailer and one acre next to a wildlife refuge, paying far too much for it, as I later would discover. I almost right a way after that wanted to give the trailer and land to an environmental organization of some kind, which would look out for and preserve it from developers, but several opportunities to do that fell though due to the various organizations dropping the ball on their side. Also, during that time I wanted to return to Dominica, and was told in dreams not to do that. I was told to run for the county commission, which I didn’t want to do, as I still hated politics. But I ran using the mantra, NO MORE NEW DEVELOPMENT, PERIOD, THE END, THE KEYS ALREADY ARE WAY OVER-DEVELOPED AND THERE IS NOT A PERSON LIVING IN THE KEYS WHO CAN STAND BEFORE A MIRROR AND HONESTLY ARGUE OTHERWISE.
sloan bashinsky
Hi again, Jason –

I thought mine back to you had vaporized during a glitch in my laptop, but it looks like it came through, as my copy of it is in my sent box.
Re your last sentence:
“And would it have been better for you in the long-view to have given all you had inherited to St Mary’s soup kitchen, rather than to have spent much of it on house, restaurants, movies, websites, publishing, self-promotion, and some here and there to whomever struck your fancy?”
About all that struck my fancy was restaurants and movies, the rest was pushed along by the Boss.
Back in early 2000, at the Boss’ instigation, I legally renounced the inheritance I was to receive from my father and changed by name to Sloan Young. Young had been my middle name since birth. The lady I was running with did the same thing.
We then were sent round the world on credit cards and finally ended up on Maui, where the card issuers stopped playing along and I soon was homeless.
The very worse part of the trip before Maui had to do with India, the spirit-internal was foul. It nearly killed my companion, who once had a yogi for a guru. As we rode the taxi in from the Mumbai airport to the waterfront, where we hoped to find a reasonably-priced hotel, we passed what looked like an big city of paupers, almost naked, lying or sitting almost next to each other, on flattened cardboard boxes, or on mud, as far as we could see perpendicular to the road we were traveling. My companion said all she could see in the air were serpents. She had spirit vision, hearing. I said, not the kind of nice serpents on the Saturday morning cartoons? No, not those kind of serpents, she grunted.
We did find a $50 a night place in a hotel about a quarter mile from the Tajmahal Hotel, where we learned a double was $1,500 US a night. We were delighted to leave India and get back to USA before the credit card companies cut us off. We were not delighted to become homeless on Maui.
It was on Maui that my dreams first started nudging me toward becoming Sloan Young Bashinsky, Jr. again. However, I did not understand those dreams, or later dreams indicating the same reversal, until 2003, when I was nearly dead from MRSA, and then I saw loud and clear what I was being asked to do. I fought it a while, then surrendered. I really liked Sloan Young, the name and the man. He was the truest, toughest man I had ever met, in the soul sense, not in the physical sense. Physically, I was not in all that good of shape.
I unrenounced the renouncement of the inheritance, also as indicated in dreams. Then, I waffled back and forth and back and forth. I didn’t want the inheritance for two reasons: (1) my father wanted nothing to do with me; (2) I wanted to make my own way in the money world, I certainly had plenty of skills to do that, writing, counseling, consulting, but I was spirit-blocked. Finally, I surrendered to accepting an inheritance from my father, and not long afterward he died.
I imagine I would have died not long afterward, without the inheritance, because physically I was pretty much disabled, while the work could do with my mind and spirit guidance was spirit-blocked in the money making arena – still the case. I would have ended up homeless again, if the spirit-block was not removed. I probably would have given up, done myself in, which would have seriously screwed a woman I by then was supporting financially, and my second wife, close to a pauper herself, who stood to receive part of my estate on my death, or part of my interest in a trust my father had set up, which I was to receive from after he died and his wife died. His wife is still living, I have seen nothing from that trust, nor will my second wife, if I die before my stepmother dies. And if I die, the woman I am supporting will be up shit creek, for she is spirit disabled, too.
This all would make more sense if you lived in my skin, but since you don’t, I am trying to respond to your last sentence, which came across sort of odd, not sure if it was a jab, or sincere. Doesn’t matter, if I had given that inheritance away, it would not have been to St. Mary’s. It would have been to my second wife and the woman I was looking out for. Then, what happened to me, probably not pretty, would not impact them so severely. Maybe I would have survived on Social Security monthly checks and showering and sleeping nights at KOTS and eating in the soup kitchen. Maybe something else would have come along.
Looks to me the Boss had me promote myself via websites, daily ravings, email blasts, running for office, because the Boss knew I would say and write things nobody else was going to say and write, and the Boss wanted me to have a bigger audience than a few pigeons in front of a park bench and a few drunk and/or drugged up homeless people nearby. Maybe if I had given the inheritance away the Boss would have made me wish I had never heard of the Boss.
I already am terrified of the Boss, in the sense of not doing what I am given to do, or not doing it in the way the Boss wants me to do it. That’s why I don’t take advice well from other people. I listen to them, and if it feels to me they are correct, feels as in I feel it in my soul and bones, I go along with it. Otherwise, I wait for the Boss to chime in favor, before I go along with it. And if the Boss don’t chime in favor, I don’t go along with it.
I once spent a couple of nights in Winchester Inlet on the Oregon coast, a river came in there, people were salmon fishing, probably late June. The Coast Card had a rescue cutter there which was weighted in the bottom so that it could roll back up if it tipped over in the pass, which was treacherous. I heard the CC had a few other boats like that stationed elsewhere. Not far down the coast road was a big sand dune as I recall, perhaps the one you mentioned in your email.
There was a big sand dune like that on the western side of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, above Alamosa, Colorado, on US 285, as I recall the highway number. Near Crestone, Colorado. I drove that highway quite a few times, between Golden, Colorado area and Taos, New Mexico, when I lived in Santa Fe and later in Boulder. Beautiful country along 285, after you got away from Denver. As is the Oregon coast beautiful.
It was when I was living in Santa Fe that the angels first came calling, but it happened 50 miles across the desert in Los Alamos. It was in Boulder that the angels then descended in swarms. Nothing was ever the same as before after that, and I only met one person since then who actually seemed as weird as me: the lady who went around the world on credit cards, who stayed on Maui when the angels transported me, without no money, to Key West, mid-December 2000, to live on the street there, instead of on Maui.
Maybe that happened because Key West is the weirdest place in America, where I least likely would be locked up for being weirder than anyone else I knew. Or thought I knew. I met Vicki within days after my arrival in Key West. We were both surprised to learn that someone else in America knew about Dominica. I encouraged her to go back there, she had left a fellow there she really cared about. The money didn’t seem to be there for it, though. Now she seems to be doing other things here, maybe that’s all past.
sloan bashinsky
P.S. It was in Boulder that I first learned of the dark night of the soul, by reading a book about St. John of the Cross, after a friend, who had heard some of my strange stories, suggested that I read up on that fellow. I went to the Pearl Street Bookstore and found a sole copy of St. John of the Cross: Alchemist of the Soul, by Antonio T. de Nicolas, and in were Juan de la Cruz’s commentaries on the dark night, which he said he had only written at the request of a mother superior in his monastical order, which was the Carmelites.

Juan described two dark nights, the first he called “the cleansing of the soul”, the second “the cleansing of the spirit”. He said the first dark night was rough, but doable, and once a person passed through it, he/she was quite different afterward. For some people who had the first dark night, that was the end of it. For others, however, the second dark night would come, and it was far, far more difficult, and woe be unto anyone it befell who was not in a protected environment being looked after by people who knew what was going on, and even then only the luckiest survived it.
Well, I wanted nothing to do with any of that. Like what I wanted mattered. About six months after reading de Nicolas’ book, in my sleep one night, I heard, “With respect to St. John of the Cross you haven’t seen anything yet.” Then, I was enveloped in pure, raw, vile, repulsive, black Evil. I struggled to escape it, but could not. I awoke trying to escape, gagging. My ego was inflated beyond belief, my soul was terrified beyond belief. A few months passed, I was feeling better than I had in years, then very quickly the first dark night descended and I was in it four years, and it lifted almost as quickly as it had descended, when I was on Jamaica, a week before I was to fly from there to Dominica the first time.
I did not feel when I left Dominica that time that I was finished there. I flew back to Boulder, and very soon after that my wife there said she wanted us to be apart, and that threw me into a commotion at all levels. Not a dark night, a commotion. By and by, after a trip to Nepal, then to Australia, then New Zealand, I ended up back in Birmingham, Alabama, where I was born and grew up. This and that happened, and I was on Tortola, B.V.I., and then on Dominica. And then I was back in Birmingham.
A few months later, the second dark night descended, and it was so much worse that the first one, which was horrible, that the first one seemed like paradise. The second dark night was so bad that I didn’t know what it was until after it lifted about 16 months after it arrived. It felt like half my mind had died, or half my soul. Throughout, I prayed to die and feared I would not. Starting around 7 a.m. each morning, I plotted my suicide, which I would commit the next day. Each plotting took about 4 hours to arrive at the method. Each plotting ended up at the same method. Slitting my wrists with my Swiss Army knife. Arriving at the method gave me a sense of peace, allowed me to live out the rest of the day knowing it was my last. I never told anyone about that dark night was still in play.
However, neither dark night produced the results Juan de la Cruz had said would ensue from the dark nights. I was not different afterward, and coming out of the second dark night was horrible, took months, perhaps due to my having been captured by psychiatry and being addicted to anti-depressants and anti-psychotics, which only made me feel worse because of their awful side effects, and, they were addictive, I learned, because the three times I tried to wean from them during the killer dark night, I came to call it after it was over, I went into horrible withdrawal like what I had read happens to heroin addicts when they stop using heroin.
Whatever, from there I would experience even more dark nights, none nearly as horrible as the second, one as bad as the first and much scarier, because I felt I was being taken over by Evil and losing my mind at the same time – fortunately, I suppose, that lasted only a few months, before the angels stepped in and steered me through it.
All in all, though, I probably went through the worst part, or worst parts, of Evil, in the dark nights, although the first dark night was filled with beautiful phenomena, which encouraged me to think something wonderful was unfolding and I needed to hang in there. The second dark night was, as Juan de la Cruz had said it would be, a black night, no light. During that ordeal, I had only three scattered dreams, which were specific to me, clearly, and which gave me some hope, temporarily, but the ordeal destroyed any hope shortly after each of those dreams.
What developed for me from the ordeals was I knew God, or, if you wish, the angels assigned to me, could do anything they wished with me, anytime they wished to do it. That’s how it came about that I became terrified of not doing what I was given to do in the way I was trained to do it, and in the way I was advised to treat each engagement on this world, which the angels had arranged for me to engage. Everything was arranged, every person I met was arranged, I was in a grand production in which I seemed to be the only person who understand it was a grand production. It’s still that way today, although some people I engage today seem somewhat aware that things are being arranged, coincidences are not coincidences.
I tell you all of this because of a dream I had in my nap this afternoon, which I awoke feeling might be about you. Perhaps not. In any event, this kind of discourse is not common fare today, and people I have known, who have written about the dark night process, including de Nicolas, whom I came to know, did not themselves have the experiences Juan de la Cruz had, nor the experiences I had, so their writings, although helpful perhaps in a bare road map way, were not nearly as helpful as, say, Juan de la Cruz’ commentaries, which very well might have saved my life. Yet, they promised only two dark nights, and, alas, there were more for me.
I concluded the dark night, which psychiatry knows not and misdiagnoses and mistreats, as does religion, is a very deep, accelerated spirit-passage designed to move a soul from here to somewhere without the person in it having to do anything but hang on for the ride. Conscious soul development, soul alchemy, is not in play. It is done to the person, whose soul agreed to it, even though the person did not agree to it. Although, in Juan de la Cruz’s commentaries, he said he, and others, did agree to it; they had a sacred ritual they used, which was known to provoke the dark night process, and they used to because spiritual acceleration was their only desire.
I was given the ritual during the middle of the first dark night, but did not realize for many years that it was the same ritual described almost verbatim in Juan de la Cruz’s commentaries. I used the ritual for something else altogether, to invoke the phenomena which Juan de la Crus said would surely come and should be turned away from without exception, because there was no way to discern for sure that Lucifer was not hiding in the phenomena. Keep turning back into the darkness, Juan de la Cruz said. Keep turning back into it, keep doing that, and eventually a singularity would occur, fusion of the soul with God, in the first dark night; fusion of the spirit with God in the second. Then, the dark night would be complete, relief on the way.
Nada, nada, nada, was Juan de la Cruz’s dark transit, until nothing was left but God. I was taken the opposite direction; I was shown in various ways that the phenomena were parts of me I did not know existed, or had fled, or were thrown away, or I had rejected, in this life, in other times, coming back to me, or I was going back to them, although it seemed they were coming back to me. Expansion, expansion, expansion, was my transit; perhaps that’s why there were more than two dark nights for me. And, perhaps I blew some opportunities, which led to my needing more dark nights.
Also, I came to see karma was involved, and dark nights were a way to burn it quickly, as opposed to enduring it the rest of my natural life. Karma, I learned, is very real, and it can be rooted in past transactions in this life, and in past experiences, on this planet, elsewhere; but mostly on this planet is what I consciously came to see.
Well, that’s a whole lot, but perhaps it’s something somebody might find “useful” some day, if it seems the sky has fallen and the earth has opened up and there is no bottom and there is no light and volcanoes and earthquakes are going off and lightning and thunder are everywhere and all hope is lost and terror and bewilderment are king and chaos is queen.
Darn, I sure hope I did not write that for me.
sloan bashinsky
Can you send a photo?

Am in email conversation with Vicki about something else, she told me to tell you hi, best wishes. Will ask her about the book you gave her.
I never met any two people with remotely alike transformative experiences, which should tell religion something, if it had ears.
I had countless not of this world experiences since the first in early 1987, and it might be fair to say that it didn’t matter all that much in the big scheme re my own personal development; what mattered was how I engaged the variety of servings in the cafeteria into which I was put; the grist of this world was, is, the engine that drives the changes. Religion could learn from that, too, if it had ears.
The entire point of being human on this world is to experience this world’s servings. Jesus demonstrated and taught that ongoing in the Gospels. Religion could learn from that, too, if it had ears.
At times you seem to me to have a Pauline theme in your words: this world is dirty, sex is dirty, money is dirty, desire is dirty, best to be above it all – well, short of suicide, about the only way to do that is to live in a cave alone and never jerk off.
Maybe more later. I need to get moving to get to a grubby dirty city commission meeting, to which the angels who run me invited me to attend, if I know what’s good for me :-)
To: sloan bashinsky
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Here is an old passport photo from around ’01, and a parade going up King George V St., Roseau in 2008.
Allow me to reiterate: To me, no thing in creation is inherently evil, not sex, or money, or drugs, or guns, or abortion, etc. But how they are used, and their effects on the self and other selves, may be for good or evil. The world, and anything in it, is only as dirty as the intent in a person’s heart of hearts. If a person truly intends well, but causes harm they will be judged accordingly; just as someone that intends ill and ends up being beneficial will have to answer for their intent. And only God knows what is in the heart. And various types of destruction(and self-destruction) must happen for the various types of creation to take place, the ones that are slated too anyway.
To: sloan bashinsky
Sorry for the delayed response,Yes, much of what you say makes sense to me, and that which doesn’t must be, to some degree, relevant to your own personal dialogue/relationship with the Boss. But then I will never claim my own experience to be The experience.It is no surprise you have a hard time placing a face with my name; Key West has a high turnover rate for faces, and I have remained a stranger even to many of those that have thought they knew me well for years, even my parents(having left Dominica to attempt a reconciliation with them, only to find the invisible, ineffable divide was to remain by Orders). What is seen often belies the unseen. And as you say, the seen and unseen intricacies of this Grand Production, and the appointed “quickening”(scriptural term), that leads to cognition and recognition of them, are not common fare for discussion. And there is a metaphor that is apt, and it is the difference between a tourist and a traveler.A spirit guide that was evidently appointed to me during my own quickening made it clear that it is neither productive nor selfless to attempt to initiate or maintain another individual’s “awakening”, if they have been prepared then it is an inevitable, if not an automatic, process. That man made it clear to me he had not the time or energy to attempt to seed or cultivate on rocky or sterile ground. Regarding those that are destined to be water skippers on the surface of life it is as Goethe said “The world is for many a freak show; the images flicker past and vanish; the impressions remain flat and unconnected in the soul. Thus they are easily led by the opinions of others” and “We do not have to visit a madhouse to find disordered minds; our planet is the mental institution of the universe”. They are no less loved, but they’re awareness of it will remain sporadic and temporary, if it exists at all. As yet, I have not been told why I should be interacting with you…only that I should be for the moment.Your assertion that karma is a key player in soul development rings true, after all it parallels “what you sow, that you shall reap”.  And for some reason, many people have difficulty seeing the only difference between the word “resurrection” and “reincarnation” as a semantic one. It is good to be afraid, blessed are the meek; do not be a slave to fear, be its master. Fear is an excellent impetus if tempered with Faith. If men did not fear the ocean they would go out on it unprepared and die from their lack of respect-many do. It is better to be oppressed than to oppress others, blessed are the poor in spirit. It would be better for anyone to be killed than to kill. What a world this would be if we all could be a little more human being, and a little less talking ape. But, I am told, all is as it should be, otherwise the term almighty would have little meaning. And regarding most people who drop out being soul-wounded. Is it not directed by the Christ himself to give up on worldly thoughts and worries and to live simply and gratefully. Yet the big difference lies in how and why people drop out of the mainstream. It must be done intentionally if it is to stand for anything at all. If it happens from a series of poor choices(lust, drugs, money, pride etc), erratic behavior, or happenstance then it occurs out of compulsion; and while this type of unwilling dropout affords a new and possibly transformative experience, it is more often the result of weakness and not strength. A fairly high profile example of dropping out through strength is Leo Tolstoy near the end of his life.Concerning my own quickening, I can say it mirrors yours in some ways, and doesn’t in others. After years of what I would say were emotional and psychological disturbances due to my past, yet triggered by real-time goings on, it would take far too long to describe them or their meanings to me. But the experience that would tie them all together and give them the greatest meaning began with a lesson in physical pain and tolerance; which perhaps was a way of telling me to pay attention, something more important was coming(Trigeminal Neuralgia was the clinical diagnosis). Following that there were successive visions, both in sleep dreams and while awake, detailing the creation of the Creation and the birth, life and death of this Earth. I was told if left to our own devices that the end of the human world would be no different than was foreshadowed by the Rapa Nui on what is now called Easter Island. Keep in mind that even some of those people survived to procreate and send descendants to the present day. They did so by remaining tied to the land and knowing how to hunt and fish, unlike their status seeking compatriots that perished. Even so, I was told not to worry, as countless earths had been made prior and countless more were being made now-ejected in subatomic particles out the thermal vent of a  black hole, along with what would first become their suns, and what would eventually also become some petunias on a windowsill somewhere.The visions started on Monday Dec 1st of 2008 and were for the most part constant and comprehensive until they ended on the following Sunday, Dec 7th. I was working at a library at the time, and during waking hours was often being attended to by one of my guides, who, on the outside, appeared to be no more than a morbidly obese homeless man wearing diabetes shoes and sleeping on the third floor(nonfiction); sleeping that is, when he wasn’t reading some Physics book entitled Origins or Quantum Self. When he was nowhere to be seen I was still being attended to, as just about any unspoken thought or question I had in mind was soon responded to or answered by the title of a book I was handed to check out for someone or to shelve. I was also warned, although at the time I was so blissed out it didn’t register. There would be another messenger coming along shortly, and the point of his visions would not be to bring peace or to assure that I and all else are only individual particles, and existing within the perceivable image, of God. The long and short of it is, I was sent on a wild goose chase of a road trip across the states to visit old and new friends, during which I felt I was stationary and the changing scenery was just a simulation. After failing to find the wild goose, I crumbled. At one point I was nearly convinced that the only way to prove I was truly selfless was to off myself. And the reasoning was so intricate it was hard to argue that the most polite way would be a way no one would have to clean up a big mess afterward, most likely rope, or pills, or the ocean. I opened the the oracle at my disposal and it said plainly “though shall not tempt the Lord thy God”. Well, over a year’s time, I made it through all that…eventually went to live on a commune in Missouri, where I made peanut butter and met my baby-mama, but that’s a different strange tale entirely. Weirdly, there are people that used to live on that same commune now living in Key West. One makes palm-frond hats and lives out on the hook; he’s an evangelical atheist. The other was, last I saw her, drunk and still living in Susie Depoo’s on Dey street where I lived for a time after my boat debacle.The Oregon dunes is a recreational area on the coast, just South of Florence. The seawall of cliffs found on most of the rest of the coast doesn’t exist there, so a little inland desert of dunes has formed, over the millenia, from the beach sand being blown into the forest. For the most part ATVer’s dominate the dunes, but they are restricted in areas and it is quite a sight to see. It’s possible you might be interested in a book I gave to Vicki, if she still has it perhaps she will loan it to you. Also the last sentence of my last missive was not a jab, just my way of seeing if you saw that money as a temptation, whether it was or not…toodles, JWHP.S.
I suppose I must add that, because of those visions that were given me, I’m not supposed to be too concerned for the monkey-suit I am currently inhabiting, no matter how much I may like it’s name or circumstances. Thus I am unable to see people’s worldly obsessions with politics, religion, sex-trade, development, and whatever else, as anything more than vanity shoring up a blindspot in their supposed “faith”. Is it not logical for a worldly being to desire to rearrange the environment to suit his or her many other earthly desires? For myself logic is only an instrument with which either good or evil may be done, just like money or power or a car or the life freely given a person- concerns for these things can and do enslave the greater portion of humanity, but for anyone that has truly been freed, they are only tools, servants to be commanded.

And tell Vicki I say hi back, and hope she is doing well.
sloan bashinsky
Last night’s city commission was Divine Comedy.
According to a friend down here in the Keys, I’m going to die and burn in hell forever, because I am not a “born-again” Christian. I’m not a Christian, either. I was, it didn’t work out for me, I tried other ways of believing and living, which did not work out for me, keeping all along my belief that God existed. Then something happened, which someone like you can generally understand, and I was in an entirely different place.
So here I am, one foot in the world where I started out in this life, one foot in the entirely different place, bound to both till death parts me from one.
I remember your face, but I do not remember us playing chess. As I said in my first reply to you, I have lost some brain cells. Will pass your best wishes on to Vicki.
To: sloan bashinsky
Ah yes, your “friend” is one of those types,Those types are a pretty common, and inevitable, type of grist for the mill. Unfortunately for them Rasputin had a more pragmatic and merciful faith. What can I say, it takes every kind of people to make the world go round? Lucky for your friend the Lord is patient, understanding, and compassionate. Fitting within the context of the Good, Bad, and the Ugly, such types usually fall in the Ugly category and no worse(and I mean on the inside, since there are just as many aesthetically pleasing ones as those that are not). But I must always remind myself that only God knows whats in the heart, and it’s possible this person thinks he is doing good when he says it? Not my job to sort him out. It’s likely he’ll end up before an entirely different circuit court than you and I (whether it be a supernal or infernal one is anyone’s guess). All I can say is forgive him, he probably does not truly know what he does, and, so, will be judged as a child, of sorts, which does not know any better; just like the many others before, during, and after him that were/are/will be either unwilling or unable to experience their faith and search for truth to come to fruition and maturity. And I doubt that what you and I have experienced(baptism of fire?) was for the purpose of bickering with children, more than likely we are here to bear witness. If he has ears to hear and eyes to see then perhaps he will be able to pour out some of the old wine to make room for some of the new. If not, move on and be not vexed by it; there will be plenty more of the like. Forgiveness after all, is also a release and waiver both by and for the giver of it, doncha know, and not a mandate to keep hanging round the same old turd-mongers.I suppose that if you’re being pushed to interact with him by your editors than I would reevaluate. Is it essential that he be convinced by your experiences or is it just the immovable object attempting to spank the irresistible force(or vice versa)? Seems inefficient to the point of territorialism. If this man has ears to hear, is it more likely that you can splash some water on yourself, blurt out some empty platitudes, adopt or inherit a position based off of selective readings from scripture(ignoring the ones that don’t fit neatly into one’s politics), and then self-proclaim as reborn? Sounds like someone putting on a new pair of clothes, and thinking they are now an emperor. Or is it more likely that the rebirth that Christ spoke of was an experience that nobody would willingly choose, because then they would have to leave all they loved, and was familiar to them, behind. I can never go back to seeing and feeling the world as I once did, and neither can you- we have been reborn, and it is not unheard of. And as far as anyone burning in hell for all eternity, it would not only be counter-productive for all that time and energy to be spent on raising one’s awareness of God’s grace and love only to cast that awareness into the incinerator- it would be Hateful. Do the so-called Christians really believe that Our Father is so sadistic and malevolent a being as to not mete out justice with compassion, mercy, and reason? Truly, some of Key West’s finest hookers will see God before they will.What is more my concern is why our own paths have crossed. Now before I knew of your experience, mine was the only one I personally knew of. Yet our paths crossed beforehand. Are we to take each other as resources to pull from? The experience itself seems rare enough, what are the odds that two people that have had such celestial encounters should meet and be aware of one another? One out of infinity? Are we each an assurance to the other? Someone to relate to? Things to be pondered. Oddly enough, I cannot now say that I am perfect, as many so-called “Christians” have no problem believing themselves to be. But Fear of God and Faith in Christ hold my course, and will direct it from here on out, the door it appears, is not a revolving one. I will still accrue some petty transgressions(from human weakness) and have to work them off, I am told, but those that occurred prior to my experience no longer have the destructive influence on me that they once had.There have been other historical accounts, and even some recent startling conversions. Two recent ones in our time are Dave Mustaine of Megadeth, about the last person anyone thought would admit of Christ, and the other that I know of is Anne Rice. They are both damaged souls and crazy in their own ways, but both also highly successful in their fields. As for fitting into a mold Anne Rice had this to say: “I quit being a Christian. I’m out. In the name of Christ, I refuse to be anti-gay. I refuse to be anti-feminist. I refuse to be anti-artificial birth control. I refuse to be anti-Democrat. I refuse to be anti-secular humanism. I refuse to be anti-science. I refuse to be anti-life. In the name of Christ, I quit Christianity and being Christian. Amen.” Apparently she is withdrawing only from the community of “believers” and not from her belief in the Christ deity, as a subsequent clarification read: “Faith in Christ is central to my life.” Whether or not they experienced anything slightly similar to what you and I have is pure speculation, but the Lord has flocks we don’t know about, nor do we know how they’re herded.I look forward to your perspective,

sloan bashinsky
My friend, his name is Tim Gratz. I published a number of email exchanges between us over the years. This year it devolved into his view of salvation, of which I had not known. I told him he didn’t understand what being born again in the spirit meant, it wasn’t what he thought; Peter in the New Testament was an example who was born again in the spirit. It’s a rare thing, and if only Christians/Catholics had experiences equivalent (not same as) to Peter’s die and go to heaven, then all other Christians, including Tim, die and burn in hell forever, based on his “theory”. I published that. I never thought, or felt, I would have any effect on Tim. I engage what comes to me and sometimes it is published, sometimes not. The audience is bigger than the correspondents, always, when I publish various correspondence. I just put it out there. If something comes back, I engage it. Tim wrote to me today, saying he was glad to read I still view him as a friend. I wrote back:
“Tim, I have lots of Christian friends, and Catholic friends. But most of them don’t talk to me about their theology. Most of them are concerned with living, not dying and the hereafter.”
I often weary of his and my correspondence and other interactions, but sometimes it’s interesting.
I have told Tim that he should be grateful that God is more tolerant than Tim is, and I have told Tim than his salvation formula is Lucifer’s salvation formula, and I have published that, too.
I think you and I were brought into the other place somewhat, maybe a lot, differently, Jason. And, based on what I have heard from you so far, it seems my transit, as I have written to you already, is through what this world serves to me, as arranged by the angels who run me. They put you and me together, I knew that immediately.
The angels put Tim and me together, but it was a while after our first encounter, which I had forgotten until he reminded me of it, that I saw he and I had been put together.
I view all people I meet as being put in front of me by the angels, no coincidences. I engage them where they are, and sometimes it’s only supposed to be on their level, and sometimes I’m supposed to move it to a different level.
Key West is a good place for me to be stationed, because a lot of people come here from elsewhere, some to stay a while, some to leave; people I need to meet, and vice versa. Saves lots of travel on my part, of which I used to do a great deal.
I can discuss cosmic stuff with you. I’ve certainly been dunked in it. But, as I wrote yesterday, cosmic experiences did not seem to be the engine driving my changes. Certainly, some changes were triggered by cosmic experiences, but the engagements on this world were the engine for most of the alchemy in me.
If I engage this world’s servings in keeping with my spirit training and guidance/corrections, that refines me. If I engage this world’s servings in the old ways, I lose traction, can even go backwards – I have experienced that. It was horrible, took the angels 2 years to turn me around, get me back to where I was before I slipped a disc, so speak.
Right now, I seem to be going through a change in on this world, am still fuzzy on details. It’s one day at a time for me, deal with what’s in front of me, deal what follows that, deal with what follows that – pretty simple program, but the internal grinding can be really rugged, today is really rugged internally.
As I do with the external what I am trained and/or directed to do, the internal moves forward, is digested, assimilated, excreted. Then, comes the next meal. Then the next meal. Right now, I’m in various stages of digesting quite a few meals, you are one meal, Tim is another.
What’s the point? Fuck if I know, other than I have been told what I am experiencing is being arranged to accelerate my spirit velocity, if I stick to the program. I have been told many times not to worry myself with how others respond to what I am given to do, say, write; I am to worry myself with doing what I’m given to do, in the way I’m trained and advised.
I in the past have encountered people who’d had cosmic, life-changing experiences. Some seemed grounded in this world, dealing with the daily grist, others seemed off in another world, not interested in the daily grist, or maybe not wanting to be in it, escape perhaps; denial, perhaps.
There was a time when I was connected to quite advanced people, some became friends, others I was introduced to by their “followers”. Most of the ones to whom I was introduced were not nearly as far along as they believed they were; often something happened because I was there that was for them, and they did not get it. Usually, it was something that happened not caused b me, but sometimes it was something I did or said.
That hasn’t happened since a lady shaman from South America came through Key West three Christmases ago and found out about me in a weird way and we and her fellow had some time together and it didn’t go all that easy for her, or for me; she was still using the sacred vine in the Amazon to take shaman journeys, finally the angels told me in a dream that was like taking steroids. I told her of the dream, and she said she might not have further dealings with me for at least a year, maybe not ever. That was Christmas before last. No word from her since. I don’t dislike her, nor do I dislike Tim Gratz.
There are people I do dislike. Tim does stuff I dislike, but there is something about him, which I like. Maybe we have known each other a while (before this life).
What the fuck do I know? What the angels show me, what life shows me. In the Big Scheme, I’m probably an ignoramus; compared to me, who I was before Jesus and Archangel Michael apprehended me in early 1987, probably was an ignoramus.
Everything is relative, and everything is provisional; nothing is cast into stone, as far as I can tell. Nothing.
Maybe I will be told in a dream tonight to shuck Tim; that would surprise me, but not being told to leave off discussing certain topics him. I might be told in a dream tonight to shuck you. and that, too, would surprise me.
I cannot imagine anyone wanting to have the Baptism in Fire, of which Jesus spoke in the Gospels, which he himself experienced in the Gospels – that’s easy for me to see, being up to my eyeballs in it for a l-o-n-g t-i-m-e. I have read of people who actually wanted to have the experience, though. John of the Cross. Anthony of the Desert. In Christendom, for examples. Some of the Sufi masters, for other examples.
It was visited on me, and I have hollered plenty about it, and wished I was dead, thought plenty about making myself dead. As you say, as I have told many people, there is no way to know what that is like unless it happens to you. There are stories of it happening to people in the Bible, but Christendom does not grok those stories are examples of what Jesus meant by being born again in the spirit.
For all I know, Christendom never will grok that. Doesn’t stop me from writing about it from time to time, and publishing it.
I really don’t know yet why you and I were connected. Maybe I never will know in this life. But we were connected.
Never heard of Dave Mustaine, I see him in Wikipedia. I never did like heavy metal, perhaps related to my never having heard of him.
Read some of Anne Rice’s vampire tales, that the Anne Rice you mean? I wondered what her fascination with vampires was really about? I figured it was interesting, perhaps macabre, something buried in her psyche, I wonder now if she ever got to the bottom of that?
To: sloan bashinsky
Yep, the same Anne Rice. According to Wiki She elaborated :On July 28, 2010, Rice publicly renounced her dedication to Christianity on her Facebook page, stating, “Today I quit being a Christian…. I remain committed to Christ as always but not to being “Christian” or to being part of Christianity. It’s simply impossible for me to ‘belong’ to this quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous group. For ten years, I’ve tried. I’ve failed. I’m an outsider. My conscience will allow nothing else.”[63][64][64] Shortly thereafter, she clarified her statement: “My faith in Christ is central to my life. My conversion from a pessimistic atheist lost in a world I didn’t understand, to an optimistic believer in a universe created and sustained by a loving God is crucial to me. But following Christ does not mean following His followers. Christ is infinitely more important than Christianity and always will be, no matter what Christianity is, has been, or might become.”[65]
Following her announcement, Rice’s renunciation of Christianity was commented upon by numerous journalists and pundits.[66][40] In an interview with the Los Angeles Times, Rice elaborated on her view regarding being a member of a Christian church: “I feel much more morally comfortable walking away from organized religion. I respect that there are all kinds of denominations and all kinds of churches, but it’s the entire controversy, the entire conversation that I need to walk away from right now.”[67] In response to the question, “how do you follow Christ without a church?” Rice replied: “I think the basic ritual is simply prayer. It’s talking to God, putting things in the hands of God, trusting that you’re living in God’s world and praying for God’s guidance. And being absolutely faithful to the core principles of Jesus’ teachings.”

As for Mustaine, he sort of went the way of Ted Neugent. Being it takes a certain type of insecure male to seek out the macho status of Rock and Roll, and especially Thrash Metal, it wasn’t surprising. Not to mention he was originally kicked out of Metallica because he drank too much for THEM, and he placed a couple of “black magic hexes” when he was younger which he perceived to have worked and felt guilty for ever after. A Wiki byte from him:”I went back to being a Jehovah’s Witness, but I wasn’t happy with that.” He later said in an interview, “Looking up at the cross, I said six simple words, ‘What have I got to lose?’ Afterwards my whole life has changed. It’s been hard, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. Rather go my whole life believing that there is a God and find out there isn’t than live my whole life thinking there isn’t a God and then find out, when I die, that there is.”[21] Mustaine also considers his talent a gift from God. “To be the No. 1 rated guitar player in the world is a gift from God and I’m stoked about it, but I think Christ is better than I am, anyway,” he said. “Either way, I don’t put too much earthly merit on it.”
To: sloan bashinsky
I wasn’t suggesting that you discontinue a friendship, simply moving on from what might be a source of conflict. As far as ending relationships, of whatever nature, I am familiar with the discipline.And it certainly was not my intent to make a sweeping generalization of all churchgoers. There are a lot of kindly old grandmothers out there going to church and praying for their loved ones, and that is wonderful. My own great grandmother(one of the 4 great grandparents I was privileged to have spent time with) would often mention that she was sometimes afraid God had forgotten about her. She lived to be 93 and had had to watch 2 of her husbands go before her into the unknown. Sadly, rather than any of my family offering to move in with her or to take her in, they put her in a home because she was falling too much. She died within months, just stopped eating.No doubt our experiences have many differences, but differences only add to the flavor. It’s not the differences that astound me, but they keep me interested in life. We’ll have to get into other things I haven’t as yet mentioned later. As for earthly me, I’m still well immersed in the grist of this world, namely human relationships; although, almost completely within the confines of familial and domestic situations(i.e. compromise, choosing ones battles, learning to understand my own hangups in concert with other people’s hangups). Which is also something I would not have actively chosen for myself, considering I was glad to be rid of it and enjoying my freedoms. It’s not easy to go from a wild horsey’s life and go back to live on the farm, I have found.When you say ”They put you and me together, I knew that immediately”, do you mean when you got my recent e-mail or when I first met you on duval street in front of Earthbound trading company? As I recall you were walking with a rolled up tourney board hanging out of your pack and I asked you for a game.  We went around the corner and had one at Sippin, after which you had to go but not before handing me “A Tale of Two Hearts”? Also, what do you feel your relationship with Patrick means? Is it possible he is one of your guardians/guides? He has a great inner peace. Well gotta go for now.JWH

sloan bashinsky
Ann Rice from yours:
In response to the question, “how do you follow Christ without a church?” Rice replied: “I think the basic ritual is simply prayer. It’s talking to God, putting things in the hands of God, trusting that you’re living in God’s world and praying for God’s guidance. And being absolutely faithful to the core principles of Jesus’ teachings.”
That’s pretty close to how I go about it. Jesus was not a Christian. He was a Jew. He walked and talked with angels of the Lord. He got advice from them. He prayed for God’s guidance. His prayer was so simple, too simple:
Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth …
Nothing in that entire prayer about dying and going to heaven. That prayer is about bringing heaven to earth in our daily lives, and how many ways in the Gospels did Jesus give examples of how that could happen? If he did not think how people lived was important, why then did he make such a big deal, often, about how people lived?
Yet, my friend, Tim, he has lots of company, is convinced the Bible says how people live has nothing to do with be saved by Jesus, with being in heaven with God after they die. Looks like insanity to me, or demonic possession, you pick. But a kinder way to look at it, for me, is this is a computer program, it is brainwashing, and it was done to Tim, and others, when they were young; or they had a great commotion later in life and fled to religion, and then it was fed to them by people to whom it had been fed, who had it fed to them by people to whom it had been fed , going back generations and centuries, to when it got started some time after the man Jesus walked on this world.
For God’s sake! If a person lives as Jesus said in the Gospels people should live, what the fuck does it matter to Jesus, or to God, whether or not that person is a Christian, or a born-again Christian?
In the law, which Tim knows pretty well, he’s an ex-lawyer, is a doctrine of substance over form, which means the courts, and the law, look to what really is going on, and not to what is painted to be going on.
Christendom’s salvation formula is paint; the real salvation, the substance, mimic Jesus. This is plain as day to me, but between Christianity and its offshoots, and Catholocism and its offshoots, together over 2 billion people, think, how many understand that what is important is to mimic Jesus, because action speaks so much louder than theory, belief, theology, attending church, that the latter are but dust in the wind compared to action.
I think maybe Mary Chapin Carpenter might have done a hit song with “action speaks louder” in it. And another hit song with “sometimes you’re the windshield, sometimes the bug, sometimes you’re the Louisville Slugger, sometimes the ball.”
That country gal sang about life; the grist that defines us, tests us, teaches us, soothes us, excites us, depresses us, uplifts us, destroys us. The good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly.
This poem was given to me in August 2000, on Maui, during the week I went homeless the first time:
All fig leaves burn
All ugly seen
All pain loved
All truth beauty
All people one
All time now
This poem was given to me in April, 1994:
the sacred planet
through which souls are refracted
into their elemental parts,
purified in Holy Fire,
then one-forged
and sent on their way
to not even God knows where,
simply because they are all
unique emanations of God,
evolving …
Keep it simple stupid, might pretty well sum up those two poems, which pretty well sum up human beings and their Creator, in my ignorant opinion.
I wonder if Anne Rice is experiencing Holy Fire internally? I wonder if she had lost control of her life? Has she been shanghaied by angels of the Lord?
I sometimes am called on by Jehovah’s Witnesses. When I don’t care to deal with them, I tell them I am Jewish, a Mormon, or Catholic. Sometimes I engage them and say I get such large doses of God ongoing, that often I find myself wishing there was no God, and would they like to hear some of my stories?, and by now they are either headed back to their car, or saying what they have memorized or been programmed to say. They always are polite, and they always leave, wondering, I suppose, what manner of devils live inside of that poor man?
Jesus, Archangel Michael, Magdalene-Melchizedek, for starters.
Not infrequently, I muse out loud, sometimes in posts at my websites, what humanity would be like on this world, if it got treated by the above and their cohorts the way I am treated by them? I have also mused out loud that such an event might reduce the human population on this planet to 50,000 individuals, or maybe to only 5,000, or maybe to only 500.
Maybe that’s why it isn’t done to the species.
What do I know? Maybe what is done to me, to you, what happens inside of us, others who have been cut out of the herd, is infectious, contagious? Maybe other humans catch it unawares, and it starts incubating in them, like a virus, until it breaks out and they are sick with it, so to speak, if not in this life, then later.
Maybe we are sort of like Typhoid Mary, so to speak :-)
sloan bashinsky
I was writing my previous when another from you arrived, which I only saw when I sent the previous your way.

I don’t recall meeting you the first time. I meant when I heard from you the other day. I sometimes groused that I didn’t have anyone to talk with about a whole lot of what I experience, have experienced, been shown, told.
Your grandmother sounds wonderful. I have known lots of church goers I really liked, and I have told them I didn’t care for their view, if they professed it, that only Christians, or only born-again Christians, didn’t die and burn forever in hell. And, if it was their professed view that America at War, Inc. was doing God’s will, I didn’t care for that view either.
I’m 71 years old. All my ancestors are dead. I am the oldest in my generation. I’m the grandfather, who does not hear from his children, or grandchildren.
Well, Jesus did tell his disciples they were going to lose all of that, and wives, and friends, and parents, through rejection, or shunning, and when that all happened to me, I remembered what Jesus had told his disciples. Didn’t make me like it, though, and it didn’t stop the pain. And didn’t cause me not to love them, and it didn’t cause me not to like them; it seemed to be the terrain I was on.
Sometimes I wonder if I might not like going back to being a horsey on a farm.
Two Souls in Love, think it was called, fell out of me in early 2006, right before I returned to the Keys to live full time, after having lived her part time, mostly homeless, or just off the street, since late 2000. I may still have one copy.
Patrick is a very old soul, who suffered horrible trauma in his youth and later. He was put in prison at age 18, because he refused to be inducted into the US military and go to Vietnam. 3 years in prison. That might not have been the start of his woes, but it was certainly a major contribution. Other major contributions followed.
He only wanted to play chess and make mandalas, from childhood. He still loves chess and making mandalas. He also is an addict, active, booze. He is in awful health. He seems to be waiting on the Lord to take him. He is gentle, usually. And patient. He is curious. He knows a lot more than he lets on.
Sometimes he comes in my dreams with messages. Sometimes I dream of chess positions, moves, which, on waking, mean something to me about something I am engaging in this world.
In Jan. 2005, I was told in my sleep, “You need to learn how to play chess.” I started hanging out with Patrick at the AA hall, where he then worked the counter, he was sober then. I started playing chess with him, other people he knew. Other chess players showed up. I lost a whole lot of games. I had been terrified of chess most of my life, because I felt really stupid the few times I played it.
I needed to learn better how to play chess in life’s engagements, and playing chess with Patrick and the other people was one way of sharpening me up, honing my wits, making me more “street smart” perhaps.
Patrick is a dear friend, and I have to watch his struggle knowing there is nothing I can do to change it. He is headed down, it will take and Act of God to change that.
I have helped him out a few times when he needed something he could not afford to buy. Something he really needed. I imagine he and I have known each other a long time, before this life.
sloan bashinsky
I tossed in some thoughts in italics between your paragraphs.

From: harryharris@
Subject: RE: Life is a strange tale.
Date: Fri, 24 Jan 2014 23:18:47 +0000

I agree,
As Mister Rogers once said “I feel so strongly that deep and simple is far more essential than shallow and complex.”. As far as I am now concerned, between the Creator and His children there needs be no complicating middle men; but many confounding, and exploitative, complications arise when people are convinced by other people to the contrary. And while the shallow and complex are not as essential, they are still necessary to the program. I was taken to church regularly as I child, by people that even now, 30 some odd years later, are not very deep, but that does not make them bad. Many true believers fall away from that scene when the hypocrisy became too obvious and distasteful to bear any longer. The Catholic church has produced many types demons, and various other recovering Catholics. Many people have been, are now, and will be led astray, Christ said as much. But people will always be the pathways to other peoples information and misinformation. Just as the poor will always be with us.
What do you suppose happens in the collective soul of Earthlings when 2,000,000,000 people believe and often say all but them will die and burn in hell forever when they leave this life? Do you think some force protects the collective soul from such metaphysics? Likewise, what do you suppose happens in the collective soul of Earthlings with 1.2 billion Muslims believe only they will go to heaven, and all others are infidels? These are not nice thoughts being transmitted. These actually are the worst possible thoughts being transmitted, and they do have an effect, unless the angles are vaporizing these not nice thoughts.
Likewise, my own interactions with this world fall into a very simple framework, It is summed up by a great bumper sticker: “Disturb the comfortable, and comfort the disturbed.” Practicing such can get complicated pretty fast, as I’m sure you know. For the most part because people tend to most often be equal parts comfortably complacent and reflexively threatened. And it sometimes takes a lot of grace to dance between the raindrops with some people, while still knocking them just enough off balance to see something they otherwise wouldn’t see, without also getting them so disturbed that they close up.
I seem to be specially trained to disturb the comfortable and to comfort the disturbed. I do it daily. And sometimes the comfortable become the disturbed and need comforting, and sometimes the disturbed become comfortable and need disturbing.
That being said, I’m not sure that everything you and I may get into discussion about is meant for public consumption. I’m aware that whatever I may send you will be left to the discretion of your editorial board. But my editorial board says there are some things that may not be helpful or productive for some that have not been prepared for them. I guess we’ll see how that goes.
More likely than not, 99 percent of what we have discussed, which I published, had no effect on 99 per cent of whomever read it. Conscious effect. Subconscious effect might be different. Inverting that, the angels keeping Earthlings in the dark about Mary mother of Jesus molesting Jesus in his youth, and how that caused him to not care that much for her, while at the same time it made him prone to let her talk him into making the first reported miracle, water into wine, which led him into a ministry of miracles, which distracted from the life teachings, and led to a religion focused far more on miracles than on living and doing good, which created a huge disturbance in the collective soul of Earthlings, which, unless the angels contained it in their ways, bled unrecognized out of the collective subconscious into all of Earthling affairs. A micro view, a girl molested in childhood by her father has all sorts of troubles later in life stemming out of the incest buried in her subconscious. When Jesus finally told his father what Mary had done, Joseph’s heart failed him, he collapsed and died in Jesus’ arms. No love lost between Jesus and his mother, whom the Vatican elevated to the Mother of God and worships. Well, that’s the way it was explained to my 6th wife and me by Jesus and his mother in mid-2000, and what happened to my wife right after that was the proof we had been told the truth. Before the revelation, I started thinking, and telling my wife, that I was hearing there was an evil greater than Lucifer, and finally she said Archangel Michael told her that if I could conceive an evil greater than Lucifer, then it existed. Then came Jesus and his mother with the news, which, its suppression by the “good guys”, was the evil greater than Lucifer, was the way it looked to me. I was furious, because I knew the havoc that cover up had wreaked in the collective soul of humanity, especially in the Christendom quadrant.
My response regarding your ponderings in bold:

“Keep it simple stupid, might pretty well sum up those two poems, which pretty well sum up human beings and their Creator, in my ignorant opinion.”
Having come into the world on April Fool’s day, there is little that I can do about my own level of foolishness, or my awareness of it. But it has also shown me a great deal of the world’s foolishness to laugh about and not take too seriously, notice I say too seriously, not least of which is “my” self. Another great bumper sticker I once read: “Don’t take life too seriously, it’s only temporary”. And it took many personal pains and losses, both on and off the chessboard, to make that a very profound sentiment.
“I wonder if Anne Rice is experiencing Holy Fire internally? I wonder if she had lost control of her life? Has she been shanghaied by angels of the Lord?”
According to a perusal of her history, her mother died of alcoholism when she was very young, and she lost her daughter to leukemia around ’72 which led to her writing Interview with a Vampire.
Maybe Anne deep down inside felt God was the vampire, through her mother, then more so through her lost daughter? Maybe Anne thought Christianity was the vampire? Maybe her mother was an alcoholic because of her religious upbringing?
I might add to that…It seems that part of reason for so much grist being pulverized in the worldly program is for the purpose of breaking certain individuals, specifically their egos/identities. Only the ones that remain flexible enough to be broken, and stripped of their dearest illusions, yet not fall apart entirely to destruction, are refined from human ore into human potential. This may seem inefficient, even very biased, for a Being that is supposed to lack such imperfections. But are not these the same refined individuals, agents of change, that lead to the eventual refining of exponential others; and so on until the effects are distributed evenly across the whole species (or at least the adaptable ones). They can also be likened to the yeast which makes the bread rise, which I’m sure you recall someone else having said before. Would that one sperm that fertilizes the egg ever make it without all those others competing and creating a flow of action? Is a glass that contains 50% water and 50% air half full, half empty, both at the same time, all three at the same time, or even all the way full but only part of the fullness can be seen? There is much to wonder at and toil about, but loving God all the same is very simple.
I can’t say I love God. I respect God, however, because I have personally experienced and seen what God is capable of doing, and most of it I didn’t care for when it happened to me. I would love to experience God differently, but I think maybe that’s not entirely my call.
As for my own interactions with Patrick, they have been far fewer than yours. There were a couple of chess games played  and puzzles he showed me. I asked him what type of awareness would know all the potential outcomes on the black and white squares, the pieces, and the people moving them, and he replied “I would call that Omnipresence”.  I even had a couple of beers with him once, I think he thought I was a lightweight because I bought some red stripe while he got the tallest cheapest can he could. Of course I understood, he must drink for maintenance and so select for function; I drink for recreation and so select for taste. By that time I had met many people who would not be in this world if it weren’t for some “bad” habit(s) keeping them tied to it. Regardless of his genetic predispositions(which he could not choose), it came to me through other channels that there was a “teacher” at Porter Place, and by that time he was the only person I knew of that lived there. Is it possible he is playing possum in some ways? Outside of the bible, does true power ever reveal itself in an ostentatious way? It seems to me if someone from a very young age is drawing mandalas and studying chess, and then also decides to sit in prison for 3 years, rather than fight in an unjust war, that person might have much to teach indeed.
As you say, I have lots more experience with Patrick than you do; a whole lot more experience, actually. At the level of soul, in spirit time, he probably is on the Yoda level. On this world, he is waiting on the Lord to take him. As am I. Alas, it seems Patrick and I have more to do here for God W. Almighty – A stands for Weird, I told some people tonight. I once had a poem fall out of me, in which I concluded I had to be crazy to love God, because of all the crazy shit God expected of me, which I didn’t want expected of me.
A Salaam Alaikum,
sloan bashinsky
Several times in the past few years, more often lately, the angels never corrected it, I have thought, and have published, that Key West, because of its diversity and location on top of a major earth vortex, and because of its adopted One Human Family official creed, is a proxy for all of humanity; as Key West goes, humanity is measured thereby.

What I did not publish, I figured that would be a bit over done, was how Key West responds to the various pokings by other people down here, and by me, is the testing ground.
JWH . (
To: sloan bashinsky
I can’t say I love God. I respect God, however, because I have personally experienced and seen what God is capable of doing, and most of it I didn’t care for when it happened to me. I would love to experience God differently, but I think maybe that’s not entirely my call.

I agree about your experience with Him not being your choice. But being that He is infinite, eternal, omniscient, unchanging and all things are done through Him, given enough time your experience will change, whether it’s while you’re in the body known as Sloan Young Bashinsky or out of it, or in another by another name, time will tell. After all, it is not God that evolves through time, but our perception and perspective of Him.
More likely than not, 99 percent of what we have discussed, which I published, had no effect on 99 per cent of whomever read it. Conscious effect. Subconscious effect might be different.

I also agree with that, because I’ve been pretty meticulous about the content of it. And I’ve directed the conversation in a way as to talk about other topics besides you or your experience in specifics, as your emotionality concerning it, and how real it is to you, is counter-productive at times. Passion is not a bad thing, but it makes a poor captain. Better to let reason steer your emotions and not vice versa, whether you’re one of the many unwilling-walking-wounded or not. But, whereas I had hoped for a possible interpretation or brainstorming from you, concerning some ongoing, recurrent signs and symbols given to me since 2005, I think I’ve heard enough for the moment. If I’m directed to, I’ll be in touch.
Peace be upon you, JWH
Sloan Bashinsky
Hi, Jason –

I have no problem, personally, publishing our emails, which I did not yet publish.
It was my impression from you, that you, or your spirit guidance, questioned my publishing what I had already published; and it was my impression that my own spirit guidance was telling me to sit on what I had not published, which most recently passed between us, which I continued to wonder if I would eventually be told to publish.
I have no clue what is your purpose. You clearly have had very unusual experiences by human standards. You clearly have been shown a lot of stuff most people are not shown. You clearly are concerned about a view that is not given to me to express, so far, in my conversations with other people privately and in my writings which are published.
In some ways, what you have shared with me reminds me of what have read in various New Age writings, not in other ways. You come across as if the entire cosmos, as it pertains to Earth humans, has been revealed to you. Perhaps it has. Perhaps I am an outlet for that view to be seen by others, perhaps not. Perhaps you are a change agent for my perspective, perhaps not. Perhaps it is the other way around, perhaps not. Perhaps we represent two different views, perhaps not. Perhaps we represent different parts of one bigger view, perhaps not.
I had two long dreams in a nap, from which I only recently awoke and went on line to find your email, the first dream telling me something very big was coming in, I was to send out an alert that all forces needed to be recalled to deal with it, and the second dream saying perhaps I was not as good a quarterback as had been touted by my dream coach nationally (Nick Saban, Alabama’s head football coach) in my dreams of late. Waking, I wondered if I had flubbed up by not already publishing your and my latest emails, not counting yours today, of which I was yet unaware.
However, I cannot at this moment agree, unless I am told to agree, that I need your consent, or your spirit guidance’s consent, to publish any future thing you send to me. I need to hear what my spirit guidance says about that. Whatever they tell me is okay with me. I will let you know about that as soon as I hear from them, probably in my dreams tonight.
Thanks for coming back to me.
6:46 PM
To: sloan bashinsky
That’s fine, sounds reasonable.
I won’t claim to know what either of our purposes are, either in the short run, or the long run. How advanced could either of us be? Whether we are on this planet at this time for our own sakes or other people’s sake or both, we’re here, now. All I know is I still have more questions than answers. The words “New Age” are really vague, and I’m not really sure what they entail for one person is what they do for another. But to me they just represent an eclectic mishmash of source materials(i.e. philosophy, astrology, mythology, religion, science, art) that is often used in an entertaining and commercial way- often jiggered with, and fine-tuned, to suit many different molds of consumer without demanding any real commitment or change. Lots of real things and ideas jumbled into a kind of mud, speculative fiction I guess I would call it; and I’d have to surmise that it has its purpose, just like anything and anyone else.
Anywho, I wouldn’t get my hopes up too much about what may pass between us, it may not be profound or novel for either of us. And I can’t say I’m any more concerned by one view over any other. All I know is what’s been told and shown me, and how I’m told to apply it at the moment, just like you.
P.S. Keep in mind, the directive given me was specific to your blog(s). Even if you’re given the go ahead for continuing this conversation under those terms, if you feel impelled/compelled to forward or show someone else our discourse in private, at your own discretion, it’s ok on my end.
Sloan Bashinsky
7:38 PM
I understood you meant my blogs. I gather from this last from you that your editors are okay with with my publishing our future correspondences, if any, without getting your or your editors’ okay. That is not a question. I will not publish anything new pf ours, or old but not yet published, without my own editors’ okay. Because of stuff that happened shortly after I last wrote to you, my sense now is the second dream I described to you might well be about something else I have been sitting on, not related to yours and mine, but related to my running for mayor this year. The first dream I described to you, that still seems to me to be about your prior email to me. I imagine dream time tonight will be interesting for me. Can’t wait. Meanwhile, I’m going out for a while to have dinner and watch sporting events at Jack Flats, and maybe try to catch up with Patrick and his buddy Juan for chess. I found them last night at Patrick’s and they played for hours, I played Patrick two games. He waxed us both until we wore him out with the tag team, then Juan won the last game, barely. A hell of a lot more fun that most things I do.
1:41 AM
To: Sloan Bashinsky
1:41 AM
You really aren’t as advanced, spiritually, as you like to believe.
Um, really?
Thus far, I think I’ve proven myself to be a patient, credible person, but for you to think someone coming forward to you and explaining to you that the same Being has contacted them, just as He had you, somehow equates to you being a “shaman” wreaks of self-importance. It wreaks of someone that’s been bamboozled by the darkness which masquerades as light (2 Corinthians Chap 11 Verses 14-15). It’s pretty apparent that you were given the call, a long time ago and repeatedly, and still went off the rails just so you could appoint an earthly status to yourself of “shaman”, “author”, “poet”, “mayor elect”, “sex monk” or whatever else your belly or prong told you might get you fed or laid. The call was to spread the message of compassion, understanding, and forgiveness. The call was to spread the gospel. Instead, you became a wandering star.
“I gather from this last from you that your editors are okay with with my publishing our future correspondences, if any, without getting your or your editors’ okay. That is not a question.”
I’m not sure of what voice gave you that impression, but it wasn’t mine or the Lord’s. I can see now that there is something else working in/on you. While projecting quite a lot of your own hangups on others(you seem to like the molestation card), you self-promote as “the best the spirit world can produce”. News flash, spirits aren’t hung up on orgasms or molestation, minds and bodies are. Spirits don’t live in the past as much as you do. The probability is that you are more soul-wounded than most and that’s why you’re a self-promoting charlatan. At seven “wives”, and probably desperately hoping for another, it is apparently clear to me why you suffer so much as you do- what was wrong with the 1st, or 2nd, or 3rd, or 4th, or 5th, or 6th(besides the fact that after you taught them how to orgasm they were automatically “saved”, awoken form their torpor by the monkey jizz of a holier-than-thou sex monk)? Hilarious, and sad. You cannot serve both your bodily urges and God.Jude, chapter 18 In the very same way, on the strength of their dreams these ungodly people pollute their own bodies, reject authority and heap abuse on celestial beings.
12 These people are blemishes at your love feasts, eating with you without the slightest qualm—shepherds who feed only themselves. They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees, without fruit and uprooted—twice dead. 13 They are wild waves of the sea, foaming up their shame; wandering stars, for whom blackest darkness has been reserved forever.2 Corinthians Chap11:14 And no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light. 15 It is not surprising, then, if his servants also masquerade as servants of righteousness. Their end will be what their actions deserve.I pray that God’s will be done, and, if it be included in that will, that Jesus the Christ saves you from your self,
{This email below I, Sloan, had missed seeing until reviewed all of Jason’s and my emails, and I replied to it in italics inside of his at this point in the email chain.}
From: harryharris@________
Subject: RE: Life is a strange tale.
Date: Sat, 25 Jan 2014 04:49:00 +0000

What do you suppose happens in the collective soul of Earthlings when 2,000,000,000 people believe and often say all but them will die and burn in hell forever when they leave this life? Do you think some force protects the collective soul from such metaphysics? Likewise, what do you suppose happens in the collective soul of Earthlings with 1.2 billion Muslims believe only they will go to heaven, and all others are infidels? These are not nice thoughts being transmitted. These actually are the worst possible thoughts being transmitted, and they do have an effect, unless the angles are vaporizing these  not nice thoughts.
Inverting that, the angels keeping Earthlings in the dark about Mary mother of Jesus molesting Jesus in his youth, and how that caused him to not care that much for her, while at the same time it made him prone to let her talk him into making the first reported miracle, water into wine, which led him into a ministry of miracles, which distracted from the life teachings, and led to a religion focused far more on miracles than on living and doing good, created a huge disturbance in the collective soul of Earthlings, which, unless the angels contained it in their ways, bled unrecognized out of the collective subconscious into all of Earthling affairs. A micro view, a girl molested in childhood by her father has all sorts of troubles later in life stemming out of the incest buried in her subconscious. When Jesus finally told his father what Mary had done, Joseph’s heart failed him, he collapsed and died in Jesus’ arms. No love lost between Jesus and his mother, whom the Vatican elevated to the Mother of God and worships. Well, that’s the way it was explained to my 6th wife and I by Jesus and his mother in mid-2000, and what happened to my wife right after that was the proof we had been told the truth. Before the revelation, I started thinking, and telling my wife, that I was hearing there was an evil greater than Lucifer, and finally she said Archangel Michael told her that if I could conceive an evil greater than Lucifer, then it existed. Then came Jesus and his mother with the news, which, its suppression by the “good guys”, was the evil greater than Lucifer, was the way it looked to me. I was furious, because I knew the havoc that cover up had wreaked in the collective soul of humanity, especially in the Christendom quadrant.
I suppose these are just points where our experiences diverge. And I guess Id’ have to ask whether “knowing” any of that to be “true” actually did any “good” for anyone, other than yourself(if it does). All it really tells me is that molestation weighs heavily on you, both in the past, and in the present, and may very well be coloring the way you interact with the world, and there is anger there. There is nothing out of the ordinary with that as far as I can tell. Plenty of people never grow out of a distrust and bitterness acquired early in childhood; it usually has to do with the people that were assigned to be their parental  guides and guardians being flawed individuals themselves. I myself didn’t get over my own anger with God, regarding my childhood, until about 5 years ago.  If everything is provisional, and nothing is set in stone, as you said, then all those maybes about Anne, or Jesus, or Mary, or anyone else don’t mean anything, except maybe to you.As an example: some people and things were taken away from Anne, without her say so, that she maybe thought were hers in a way, but they weren’t hers, never were and never would be; and she maybe did some things or witnessed some things and wondered what kind of loving deity would ever make her a party to such madness as the human race. But if she wanted the burning to stop, she was going to have to get over that. It appears as if she has found peace with those things, but again only she and God know that. As John Prine sang “Father forgive us for what me must do, You forgive us and we’ll forgive you. We’ll forgive each other til we both turn blue, and go whistlin and fishin in heaven.” It may sound blasphemous, even to you, but the hardest part for me, about fearing and loving God at the same time, is forgiving Him for the way things have to be. Even if that means I must die of the plague, or be tortured to death by an inquisition, or watch all my people die of small pox, or leave the wife and daughter I love so much. It doesn’t mean I have to like it, frankly I would love to have a relationship with my parents, and even the few grandparents I have remaining, I still have fond memories of them. But i guess it’s just the terrain I’m on, I have to take it on faith that for all the earthly things I have lost, and will lose, that I will be recompensed and then some. Even that sounds a little blasphemous to me, how could I lose anything that was never mine to begin with, but only assigned to me on loan? How does faith work into your ideas? Does faith enter into your experience at all?- all those souls you may be worried about, the collective one they make up, and the bodies they inhabit(along with the air, water, fire, and earth that sustains them and all Life), are sole property of, and part and parcel of, the Creator. He may do with them as He Wills…and He will. If I don’t trust Him, who can I trust?
Outlook express stacks my incoming emails on the same topic and sometimes I don’t see emails for that reason. I did not see this one from you until I went back over our prior emails today after you wrote telling me I had to publish our prior emails, which I had not published, if we were to continue our conversations. That, after getting onto me about having published those emails. Perhaps that was your spirit guidance’s pleasant way of telling me to go back through the emails you had sent, so I would see this one.
Re faith, I trust what my spirit guidance tells me. On this world I believe what I see and hear and sense, and remain open, or skeptical, to my ignorance being further elucidated. 
I am almost 30 years past believing God exists. My experiences proved to me God exists. My experiences proved to me Evil exists. I don’t believe any of that any more either, therefore.
I was put on a program in which I was to see whatever was going on, in me, in other people, in the spirit, in whatever I engaged on this world. What I did not see, hear or sense myself was told to me by other people when it was time for me to see/hear it. If there were not other people, the angels told me. 
It made living on this world really dicey, because I was seeing, hearing, sensing a lot of  stuff people I liked, loved, engaged, either did not know, or knew but did not want me, perhaps anyone else, to know. Then, I was put to speak to it. Caused plenty of upheavals. Caused me a great deal of grief and heartache.
Knowing it might be different in the afterlife, that God loves me, doesn’t make me feel better. It does not help me through the daily grist. God loves everyone, angels, saints, sinners, devils and fools alike, because they all are God’s children. I know that. 
Many Christians, many Muslims, console themselves with their belief that they will be happier in the afterlife. Meanwhile, and despite their faith, they are miserable.
Anne Rice has a great big nasty inside of her, which caused her to write so much about vampires. Your attraction to her might indicate same for you.
Child molestation is a very old problem. My wife and I were told by Archangel Michael, after Jesus and his mother had brought us the news, that incest back in that time was as prevalent as it is today.
I would love for Jesus to come to me and tell me his mother did not molest him, and that he and his mother had made that all up when they came to my wife and me and told us that. How do you know you were not sexually molested in childhood and you do not remember it, and that was why you were sent to me? I did not go looking for you.
Mental health workers today know people who were molested in childhood often do not remember it, either because it happened when they were too young to remember it, or their soul’s blocked out the memory of the trauma to protect them when they were younger. I did not remember being molested by my mother in my crib, but when the angels started the healing of it in 1998, there was no doubt in my mind, nor in the mind a a very good male friend, nor in the mind of my then wife, that was what I was being healed of. It was terrifying for me, and it lasted six weeks, 2-3 healing sessions a day, solely angel initiated. I just received and endured it, while my male friend, mostly, sat through the sessions with me, my wife was simply hearing from her guidance and from me what was going down. We did not live together. The healing sessions occurred in my apartment. She was spared seeing it first-hand. My friend was in California, he never saw it first-hand. He had perfect spirit hearing then, the angels told him everything as he sat their holding my hand on the telephone, and he passed it along to me. Without him, I might have perished, unless the angels had told me directly what was going on. I just felt it, and it was horrible.
The next wife, number six, was the lucky recipient of the news from Jesus and his mother. When she first was brought to me in a weird way, she did not know she’d had sex with her father from age 3 to age 18, when she left her parents’ home knowing she had to leave. She would never remember it while I was with her. However, when Jesus and Archangel Michael told her what had happened, I was not with her, she was in Ohio, I was in Alabama, she believed them. And, she believed them even more when she experienced their healing of her from it, as I held her hand on the telephone during dozens of healing sessions initiated by Jesus and Michael, hearing from her what they were doing inside of her and telling her. She said she’d never had a orgasm though regular intercourse. When we finally were paired up, she started having orgasms in regular intercourse. She seemed blown away.
Wive five, who was with me when I was healed of the incest, was molested by one of her older brothers. I was shown that a few years after she and I were no longer together. It fit perfectly, explained the way that brother treated her, kept trying to break us up. At some level, he knew I would get to the bottom of it and tell her, and as she was hearing regularly from God, she often told me, she would have gotten confirmation. She frequently told me God was telling her I was the man who had been brought to her, the man whom she had asked for, who walked with God and with whom she would experience passion. She’d had a lackluster sex life. With me, it was beyond belief for both of us – not of this world. The only time I ever experienced it with a woman. 
Wife three was molested in her early teens by a girlfriend’s father. She remembered it, told me about it. She said she’d never had an orgasm in regular sexual intercourse. After we became an item, I was used to help get her over that. She fought it, wanted to keep using the old ways. When she finally had an orgasm during intercourse, she was stunned, and she wept, and she never went back to the old ways. 
My seventh and last wife was molested in childhood, and at around age 20 by a gynecologist during a pelvic exam, when there were no medical assistants present. She knew what had  happened and “blocked” it out until she much later was forced by her spirit guidance to tell me about it. I had told her that I had been told that she had experienced Satanic sex, and she didn’t believe me. She eventually told me that she’d never had an orgasm before she and  met, not even via masturbation. After a few times of being together, and then apart, very painful separations, we got back together and she started having orgasms though regular intercourse. It seemed to be quit thrilling for her. She never did, as far as I know, get taken into the childhood molestation. 
Besides those up close and personal direct experiences, I have had quite a few people, mostly women, but a few men, brought to me, who had been molested in childhood. Some remembered it, others did not. It was given to me to talk with them about it, suggest they ask God to heal them of it, not using me as an agent of their healing. One of those women is a local elected official. Another is a gifted local poet. One of the men is Tim Gratz. Of the three, he does not remember what happened to him.
With about half of kids being molested in childhood, that doesn’t make for good odds of them, or earth humans doing very well on their own. 
I left out here kids who were molested via parents living through them, which is spiritual rape. I left out kids who were molested by parents forcing religious beliefs down their throats, which is spiritual rape. I left out kids who were mentally, emotionally and physically abused, which is spiritual rape. 
Since being apprehended by Jesus and Michael in early January 1987 and told my life would be used for human service and it would push me to my limits, I have not met one whole person. Everyone I met was seriously soul-wounded. There were myriad reasons, no two people were alike. I finally gave up trying to fix them; I realized only God’s angels could do that. 
Then, I was thrown into the political arena and that part of my life faded and only seldom was I used to try to help someone in that way. Tim Gratz was one person I was given to try to help in that way. It seemed futile, but I tried. Perhaps a seed was planted. Perhaps in Tim’s next life, it will go differently. Such matters are beyond my pay grade to know.
  • P.S. RE: Life is a strange tale.

Sloan Bashinsky, 27 January 2014, Key West 
6:31 AM
Even as I wrote to you last night, I thought to myself that you would jump on it hard, especially the sex and marriage parts, but I had been told in the dream to call back all the forces to deal with what was coming in. I was also told in the dream we all had done well, but now there was something else to deal with which was very big.
I found myself wondering last night why I had written that your email left me with the impression that I did not need your or your spirit guidance’s permission to publish ours, and I wondered that because I clearly had misread yours. Then, a thought came, which was your spirit guidance knows there is no one I would privately show what you and I are writing, and I wondered if maybe that was a clue for me to simply rely on my own spirit guidance re publishing. I don’t know as of now, but I do know that I did not hear anything about that in dream time last night. I get corrected, often unpleasantly, when I mess something up.
What I was told was I needed to go into what wife six experienced in South Africa, just after we went to the India Consulate in Durban to apply for visas to India. Already we had airplane tickets to Mumbai with a 3-day layover in Mauritius. which lies between South Africa and India.
We left the Consulate and went back to the lodge where we were staying, and then we decided to walk down the road to an Indian restaurant we had seen and eat there to commemorate the upcoming trip to India. She’s had an Indian yogi years before we’d met. Kirpal Singh, as I recall the spelling. From what she’d told me, he seemed okay compared to some Indian yogis I’d known through people who had been their disciples. Everyone one of them seemed to me to be possessed, and not to their betterment.
Before we had left the states, wife six had dreamt of Kirpal sitting in the lotus position above her head, sucking all of her energy out of her. The dream really rattled her and I told her we needed to deal with that. The way we worked in the spirit was she was the observer and reporter and I was the talker and the doer, as I was led to talk and do.
I told Kirpal what he was doing was holding her back and him back, and he needed to get on with whatever was his next to do. I asked Jesus and Archangel Michael to take Kirpal to wherever that was. She said they were there, and then they were taking Kirpal away. She gasped, wept, had a hard time breathing. I said it hurt, but it was necessary. She recovered, knew it needed to happen, put it behind her.
Well, we got to the Indian restaurant in Durban and ordered, and then she started feeling ill, nauseous. The fool came, she took on bite and got up and rushed to the bathroom and puked her guts out, and puked her guts out, and puked her guts out, she said when she finally got back to the table. I ate some of my food, she was unable to eat any of hers. She was still feeling terrible and we left. She barely was able to walk back to the lodge, and when we got there she laid down and it was a while before she was back to “normal”.
She was told that all of this had happened to prepare her and me for the next leg of our journey. We were scheduled to stay a month in India. We changed our airline tickets to that we stayed a month on Mauritius and 3 days in India. Mauritius was lovely, except for Jesus and his mother coming to us, after which my wife had huge, awful, white-hot boils erupt between her thighs which persisted until I realized we needed to make love, which she didn’t want to do, understandably, but she understood the reason for it and it was quite gentle and beautiful, and then she had a monster orgasm and then the boils began receding and in about a week were healed over.
That’s how the incest was processed through her, someone who already had been healed of it. It was processed through me, more slowly, by my feeling terrible in my G.I. tract for most of the time we were on Mauritius, which carried forward through our 3 days in Mumbai. We both could not wait to leave India.
As I wrote some time back to you, coming into Mumbai from the airport, passing a city of impoverished, half naked, dirty people crammed together on dirt or flattened cardboard boxes, she told me all she saw in the air were serpents, and I said not the nice kind of serpents on the Saturday morning cartoons, and she said no, not those kinds of serpents.
I started feeling a lot better when we reached Tokyo, en route to Hawaii. Then, more rough engagements came.
That is shaman work, Jason. She was told by Jesus and Michael that we both were shamans, whom they had trained, and we were doing shaman work everywhere we went. I was told in  April 1994 that I was a shaman, in this poem that jumped out of me while I ate breakfast.
Shaman you now are.
Angels walk beside you
and call you their brother,
even as you curse the heavens
for making you one who wields the lightning -
Be kind to your brothers and sisters,
but take no prisoners -
Kill them all in my name,
As I have killed you,
so you and they
might live.
I knew then that the voice was the Christ, and my ego was inflated and my soul was terrified.
The shaman training was very rough, but it was easy compared to the later Melchizedek priest training, which consciously started in early 1999. But that’s another story.
The work is horribly difficult, it is always geared toward trying to help other people who are ailing, stuck, blind, deaf, dumb. It is mostly tough love, but there are times when gentleness is necessary. I was with Patrick again last night, just to talk. He seems to have pneumonia. I told him he needed to go to the free medical clinic to get that looked after. Maybe he will, maybe he wont. He was chain smoking and drinking beer.
I told him about the first nap dream and that I recalled all the forces to deal with something which had showed up in my email account while I was asleep. He was not clear what I meant by recalling all the forces. I said soldiers, troops. He seemed confused. I said spirit stuff. He said not human soldiers, but spirit soldiers. I said yes, spirit soldiers. He got it, but how long he retained it, if he retained it, I don’t know. I left wondering if he would pass over during the night. I told the angels I sure would miss him, but I had done all I could and it was of no effect as far as I could tell.
I have told you almost nothing about my relationship with Patrick, what has passed between us, or my efforts to help him, of the stories I have heard him tell, horrible stories, of the misjudgments I have seen him make, for himself, for other people. You have no clue what happened between him and me, and if I told you, I am not inclined to think you would not twist it around to suit you.
From all you have written to me, Jason, I do not see that you have received much fire-testing, training. You do not seem to me to have yet been put to much use on this world. You seem to have been interdicted by spirit forces, you seem to have been shown a lot, you seem to have been changed, but you seem to be of the view that you know more than anyone else, you seem to make lots of ass-u-me’s, you seem to not be very seasoned in dealing with what really is going on with/in people around you, and you seem not to really know yourself all that well.
You still seem to have a Pauline streak in you, Puritan is another way of saying it. Many people in Christendom over the ages were seriously soul-damaged by Paul’s writings against sex and homosexuality, and by his elevating men over women spiritually.
Often I told the angels, better that Paul’s were not in the Bible, or even known. Just as often I told the angels that it was just as bad that Jesus and Mary Magdalene’s relationship, which was fully human, and they produced a child, was not included in the New Testament. That, too, caused a great deal of soul damage in Christendom, because it left its members with the message that sex was dirty, only for making children, which Paul wrote Christians should stop producing because Christ’s return was imminent and there was no point in making more children.
You are still young, Jason, about half my age. You may have lots of experiences as the years pass, which change your views about many things. I had my views changed about many things. I live each day and night wondering if I am doing what God wants me to do, in the way God wants me to do it. That is my one real concerned, which dwarfs all my other concerns, and often have I written that in what I publish. Oft have I published that I wold be lost, blind, deaf and dumb without the angels constant advisories and corrections.
Your last, to which I am responding, is reactive, angry. You said I could not get to you, but I did get to you, and that was hardly the first time. You have reacted a number of times, perhaps not realizing it. In some ways you remind me of the lady shaman who found me three Christmases ago. She wanted to get to know me, and she thought she was on top of everything. She acted if it was her job to straighten me out, she did not take in any stories I told her about what I had experienced, and what my experience was with the angels ongoing. She did not believe I was shanghaied, conscripted, enslaved by Jesus, Michael and Magdalene. She was convinced I had free will. Everybody has free will.
In fact, nobody has free will, because everybody is driven by subconscious drives on this world. You and me included. I know this, and knowing it helps me appreciate the need for ongoing guidance to keep me on track. My own decisions might or might not be on track. I find out soon enough, if I left the track. Too bad all people don’t have the same experience, this would be a very different world today. As is, this species is in deep trouble. Otherwise, you would not have had your experiences. I would not have had my experiences. We, like everyone else, would have been doing just great, no worries. There would have been no need for Jesus. There would be no need for him today.
Several times you referred to God as Him. Where’d you get the notion that God is male? The Bible? God is male and female, and God is sexless. God is unfathomable, even to angels, who know a lot more about God than you and I. Michael told wife six and me that they receive guidance; they are doing something, then they understand they are to do something else, and they do it, automatically, no questions asked. Michael told us that we were being taught to live as angels live, but on this world, the grist of which makes that a bit different from living only in spirit realms. Yet, in keeping with, Thy will, not mine, be done, O Lord, and Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth, as in heaven …
No way I can do that without ongoing advisories and corrections from Jesus, Michael and Magdalene, and others they sick onto me. You can be sure, if they don’t care for what I wrote to you above, they will let me know. They always let me know when they don’t care for what I do, say or write. I am what they made of me, over lots of screaming and kicking by me. I take no credit for any of it, other than I didn’t kill myself, and maybe I should not even take credit for that; maybe they stopped me from killing myself.
Shalom, Jason
sloan bashinsky
5:40 PM
To: JWH .
Hi, Jason -

I spent a good while yesterday putting all of our email correspondence into an unpublished draft in a new page at Page titles show in the top header and are far more available for the public than are posts, which get buried under prior posts. I personally have zero problem publishing all of it, including this and perhaps later emails between us, but I don’t yet know what my editorial board wants me to do with it.

A mainland woman friend,whom I have known since early 2005, has much spirit potential and is being trained by Jesus, Michael and Magdalene to be a shaman, and boy is she having a rough go with that. She is like a daughter to me. I am her only real friend and support her financially.
She told me yesterday morning that for the past 24 hours she’d felt like something was sucking the life out of her and her head was all dizzy. She often takes on some of the spirit load in situations I am given to engage.
I told her a little about you, and explained to her that vampires (metaphor) are like demons, in that they cannot make their own light and they suck it out of living beings, such as Earthling humans. Vampires (metaphor) have to do that to survive.
She said she was starting to feel better, and then she said whatever was sucking the life out of her and making her dizzy was gone. She historically recovers from carrying part of the spirit load in what I am engaging, when I tell her about it.
After speaking with her, I went back to work putting your and my emails together, and I jotted down some thoughts. Then, I took a shower, and as sometimes happens in the shower, all sorts of stuff came to me connecting dots I had not seen but, in hindsight, probably were in plain view. Then, I started feeling a lot better.
You are infected with a vampire. Two vampires, actually. One represented by Anne Rice, the other by Dave Mustaine.
Paul was a closet homosexual, who came to deal with it by being celibate. Homosexuality was Paul’s thorn in the flesh, which he asked the Lord to remove, but the Lord did not remove it. Paul is the reason the Rome church imposed celibacy on its priests, which led to widespread pedophilia and homosexuality in its priests, as well as priests having liaisons with nuns and nuns having other sexcapades. When Paul was Saul, he was a zealot persecuting and having Christians killed, who would not renounce Jesus.
You are an incarnation of that same soul which was Paul. You were molested in childhood, and that was your karma for Paul preaching against human beings’ God-given sexual function and women being under men spiritually and the other sexual damage Paul did to the collective soul of Christendom.
Your having been Paul, and in this life being molested in childhood, is why you protested too much over what I wrote to you about the women I married, who were sexually dysfunctional because they were molested in childhood.
There is no difference between healing a lame man, or a blind man, or a leper, and healing a soul-wounded sexually dysfunctional woman, or man.
If you don’t know these things, Jason, you have been shortchanged by your spirit guidance, which will piss me off because I really am tired of being used to tell people what is wrong with them, when their own spirit guidance is perfectly capable of telling them.
You may never believe me, but perhaps the prayer you made for Jesus to save me from myself, if that was God’s will, I certainly need all the help I can get, will result in Jesus doing for you what you asked Jesus to do for me.
You may be on the verge of being taken into the Melchizedek priest training, which might make you wish you never heard of Jesus.
Or, you may be on the verge of being put into another dark night of the soul, perhaps the black night described in one of my replies to your first email to me, to “soften you up” by putting the abject living fear of God into your soul and bones, so that you will be receptive to the Melchizedek priest training later on.
Or, you may be left alone. Perhaps, for now, you have had done to you all that the angels assigned to you feel needed to be done to you. Perhaps, for now, your work on this world is mostly inside your nuclear family, your wife and daughter.
I hope, Jason, that your wife is not suffering because of your Pauline view of sex. Sexual dysfunction, or any dysfunction, in and between parents, bleeds into their children … the sins of are visited upon …
As for my being a wandering star, instead of preaching the gospel, I preached the Gospel of Jesus, as reported in the Gospels, to Christians until I was blue in the face, and I don’t recall finding one Christian who received all of it. I still preach the Gospel of Jesus to Christians, when the angels present the opportunity, such as Tim Gratz, but I don’t hold my breath, and I don’t go looking for such opportunities.
I preach whatever I’m told to preach, regardless of where it came from. The angels aren’t hung up on the Bible, but only on trying to reach and help people. Apparently, the angels have not given up on telling me, at least, to keep trying to wake up people the angels arrange for me to engage.
From your second email to me:
“To me, no thing in creation is inherently evil, not sex, or money, or drugs, or guns, or abortion, etc. But how they are used, and their effects on the self and other selves, may be for good or evil. The world, and anything in it, is only as dirty as the intent in a person’s heart of hearts. If a person truly intends well, but causes harm they will be judged accordingly; just as someone that intends ill and ends up being beneficial will have to answer for their intent. And only God knows what is in the heart. And various types of destruction(and self-destruction) must happen for the various types of creation to take place, the ones that are slated too anyway.”
As we progressed in our dialogue, Jason, it seemed to me that you moved away from that toward being a Puritan zealot, which might be kin to a Jehovah’s Witness.
When I told my younger woman friend today, who is in shaman training, about this email to you, which I had been working on, she said something yucky lifted right off of her, which had been on her for a week.
If you and I are examples of what angels of the Lord produce on this planet, then humanity may be doomed and perhaps should be moved somewhere it has a better chance of moving forward instead of backward.
However, God’s will, not mine, be done.

JWH 1/31/14


I had no right to attempt to call you out on your sins, whatever they may be, I am a sinner myself you know. Will you forgive me for it?


sloan bashinsky 1/31/14
My sins are many, Jason, I have published the worst of them several times. I do not view my multiple marriages as sins. Each of those women was arranged for me to be with, that was crystal clear even when I met some of them before I was “waked” up, and it remains crystal clear. Now, how I behaved toward/with them, that’s another matter altogether. I did worse with some than with others. Fathering my two daughters left much to be desired. Michael told wife six and me after Jesus and his mother came to us, “We are all fallen angels.” Indeed, how can anyone who has not fallen be of use to the fallen? How can one who has not fallen know what is needed for one who has fallen? By the end of the parable of the prodigal son, which son would you rather be? The prodigal or the miserable jealous older brother? No choice for me. The prodigal.

The way I was taught to deal with my fuck ups was to admit them and apologize. That’s how I go about it. I did that today with two people where I live, one is my landlord, over the same incident. I told them I should have kept my big mouth shut the other day over something I did not keep my big mouth shut about. When they tried to sluff it off, I said, no, I should have kept my big mouth shut. I did not ask them to forgive me. I do not ask for forgiveness, because that puts pressure on the person I abused, and is selfish on my part. Repentance should request nothing back; it is its own reward. What the other person does with it is on him/her. I’m not mad at you. You and I have had very different experiences. Only a few of my wives and the male friend who held my hand through the molestation healing were able deal with what all I shared with them of my own experiences. Well, that’s how I see it. If my editorial board thinks I’m wrong, they will tell me.

Can you tell me Dustin’s last name so I can try to locate him?

In dreams last night, I was told to change the pic leading into our emails, in what I had posted. I just did that. The editorial board took its time, since that pic was in the post for two days before I published it. The two pics now there are more appropriate for the mainstream ordinance, even though I still like the pic I was told to take down.

I’m going to share more about what all I experienced, it will take a while, but it seems I was generally pointed in this direction in other dreams last night.

Back in the 1988, as I recall, I read the text of A Course in Miracles, which probably is the best treatment on projection ever. And, probably the best treatment ever on how to respond to what punches our buttons – do nothing. Marinate in it. As I recall, in the part of ACIM about forgiveness, it is said forgiveness is a human invention and does not pertain to God. In the parable of the prodigal son, the father was simply glad his lost son had come back home; the father was not angry with his son for what all he had been doing for all of those years.

I went through something similar with my younger daughter a few months back, when he wrote to me after 14 years of silence. I was not mad at her, I loved her, there was nothing to forgive. It was not nearly as dramatic as the prodigal son story, I have not heard from her since I wrote back to her. I don’t worry about it, it’s not anything I can make be different. I love her older sister, too, who has yet to communicate with me since early 2000. No reason given. There is nothing to forgive. I love her just as much now as I did when she was a little girl. I love them both like that.

As I wrote to you once before, you and I were brought into a new way very differently; for me it was a long drawn out ordeal, many, many steps, progressing I hope, but sometimes it seemed I was going backward. In the black night, during 99.9999 percent of that it seemed I had been abandoned altogether. The human part of me still frets, of course, over some things that have happened in the past, but mostly I am focused on dealing with what is right in front of me in the way I am trained and am being led. It’s a really simple program driven by what happens in my life on this world. I don’t dwell on the afterlife as it might pertain to me. I have no clue what the afterlife will be like for me.

Engagements such as you and I have had lately are quite a trial for me, and perhaps were arranged, in part, to show me that what I use do, before I taken out of it and put into politics, I like less than politics, so I should quit bitching about being put into politics. There were a few others who had been woken up, some more so than other, who came along after I was thrown into politics. We danced a while, then they move on. As time passed, they faded, and new experiences kept engaging me. I do not think I am required to like all people, but I am required to treat all people fairly, which might look differently to them than it looks to me and my editorial board. I am not allowed to be vindictive, and when I am, I get clobbered. Your path is not known to me; I was simply shown to give you some possibilities and to tell you what led you to where you are today, which was done for me starting a little more than 20 years ago.

I am an incarnation of the soul which was Judas, who today is not understood in Christendom, nor is Jesus, nor Magdalene. An Episcopal priest once told me that Judas’ only real sin was killing himself, all the disciples betrayed Jesus, we all betray Jesus. That conversation occurred during the middle of the black night, just after I’d been told in my sleep, “The reason you are having this experience is because you once were Judas.” I was proactively suicidal. The priest’s words encouraged me to try to hold on.

I had told him about the dream and he had reacted strongly, said that dream could not possibly have come from God!” I said, how could he know that for sure? He paused, said, well, he could not know for sure. I could have shown him passages in the Gospels where Jesus and the disciples spoke of reincarnation, but instead, I said, let’s not linger there; tell me about Judas. After the priest gave me his take on Judas, I told him what his words and done for me and he said he hoped I would hang on, and somehow I did hang on, or something caused me to hang on.

Of course, I had been Judas in many ways in this life up to that point, and would be again my earthly activities. However, I already had been told a few times before the black night came that I had been Judas. My third wife was convinced of it, and that she had been Magdalene. My fourth wife was undecided, and when I went into the black night, she turned away from all things mystical, and I can’t say I blamed her.

My fifth wife, who was a devout Christian and attended the same Episcopal church where that priest was rector, the same Episcopal church in which I had been Christened and forced through confirmation by my mother, which led to my eventually rejecting church, but not Jesus nor God, understood I had been Judas. My sixth wife sometimes called me Judas. My seventh wife understood I had been Judas. It was not debated, it was accepted.

Jesus, Magdalene and Judas were a triad, a team, from the get go. They had their respective roles to play. They met privately and discussed the upcoming skits unbeknownst to the other disciples. Judas was adamantly opposed to miracles, he was convinced they would distract people away from the life teachings. He was adamantly opposed to the crucifixion for the same reason, that, and he didn’t want Jesus to take the risk. Yet, he went along with it because he was the only one who would play the betrayer role. So distraught was he later, that he killed himself.

The priest told me, if Judas had not killed himself, God would have used him mightily. I said, and then there would have been no need for Paul? The priest seemed caught short, in thought. Then he said, perhaps so. So it was not a joke, nor a bludgeon, which I dropped on you the other day. It was a kindness to me to have been shown what I was being taken through – Judas’ karma. There was other karma, awful karma, from this life.

I molested my 5-year-old sister when I was 15. I had not yet reached puberty. It was driving me insane, and I was telling no one. Even so, I may be roughed up by that karma for the rest of my life, and maybe beyond that. There is other karma from this life, but what I did to my sister probably is the greatest karma from this life. I never asked to be forgiven for it, not by her, not by God. I admitted my wrong and apologized, and encouraged her repeatedly to seek professional help. All of which I published from time to time.

During the three temptations, Jesus was tested re making miracles, invoking the angels. He declined to make miracles, invoke the angels. After the three temptations, the devil left Jesus to return at a more opportune time, is said at the end of that passage. When was the more opportune time? Probably all in Christendom would say, when Jesus was on the cross and asked God, “Father, why did you forsake me?” Consider, though, the wedding when the wine ran ran out and Mary badgered Jesus to make new wine and he did not want to make it but finally he gave in to her. That was the first miracle. The first of many.

Today, Christendom is based on miracles, that is the center stage. The greatest miracle, actually, is not the resurrection, which was a near-death experience. Joseph of Arimethaea and Nicodemus gained permission to take Jesus down from the cross long before a crucified person usually would be taken down. They lathered his body with aloes and myrrh. Aloe is a powerful wound healer, myrrh increases white cell count dramatically to fight infection. They wrapped him in clean linen (bandage) and put him into Joseph’s own tomb and rolled the rock over the entrance. Then, the angels ministered to Jesus and he came back from the dead, which many people would later report having themselves done and it was called a near death experience, or NDE.

If men rolled the rock over the entrance to the tomb, men could reopen the tomb. So could angels, if they wished.

To whom did Jesus first speak after he came back from the dead? Mary Magdalene, his wife. Of course, he would speak first to her. Of course, he would tell her to go to the disciples where they were hiding and tell them she had seen him and he would be with them soon. When she went to the disciples and told them, Peter was bent out of shape that Jesus had sent a woman to them, the woman, in fact, which Peter well knew, as he was around them and knew what was going on between them. In public she had washed Jesus’ feet with her own hair and tears, and had anointed his feet with precious ointment she scarce could afford. What do you supposed she washed and anointed him with in private?

After he was done turning the disciples over to the Holy Spirit, Jesus asked Magdalene to leave Palestine with him, and head east. But she did not wish to leave her culture, and he went on alone, leaving her and their yet unborn child behind. The child came. The persecution of Christians came. Magdalene eventually fled with her child to southern France – she left her culture anyway. A Christian sect called the Cathars sprung up around that child and Magdalene. Generations later, the Cathars were wiped out, their churches and libraries sacked and burned, by nations allied with the Vatican. But the child had survived and her bloodline would eventually spread all over the world. People today, with traces of her blood coursing in their veins, do not feel like they are from this planet.

I was not told told that directly, but read of it in Holy Blood, Holy Grail in the early 1990s, when I was with wife 3. We both were told to accept what was in that book about Magdalene, the child, the Cathars, the bloodline of Jesus and Mary Magdalene.

Wasn’t long before I read that book, that wife 3 asked me if I knew anything about Melchizedek?, which was mentioned in a soul alchemy book she was reading in bed beside me one night. I said there was a Melchizedek in Genesis, who had ministered to Abraham, and Abraham had tithed to that Melchizedek, and eternal being in human form. Did she wish for me to try to get more information? Yes, she said. So I put my book down and stretched out flat in bed and closed my eyes and she began lightly stroking my chest, which we had learned would put me into a trance and then information would come to me from beyond.

Nothing happened at first. Then, I told my wife something seemed to be coming … from really far away … from some place I’d never gotten information. It came slowly, about fifteen seconds, maybe 30 seconds between each statement, which leads off the page “a gospel of Jesus, a reincarnation of Paul” at

“Melchizedek … Melchizedek is an order of angel … Melchizedek comes to a planet in trouble to prepare it to receive the Christ … the Christ does not come to a planet without Melchizedek … Mary Magdalene was of the Order Melchizedek …”

That was wife 3’s and my mystical introduction to Mary Magdalene and Melchizedek, an order of angels in which the Letter to Hebrews says Jesus is high priest. Except back then, we did not know what was in Hebrews.

Now in early 1999, I was with wife 5, the devout Christian who attended the Episcopal church in which I had been christened and forced through confirmation by my mother. I was becoming aware of being taken pell mell into the Melchizedek initiation, which probably had officially begin with the black night, which came upon me in early February 1997 and ran 16 months, and right when I was coming out of it, and out of the clutches of psychiatry and its awful drugs, which alone had nearly killed me, I was put with wife 5, the devout Christian. She had been told by God, she later told me, that a man was being brought to her who would put God first, and her second. That became the testing ground of our relationship, as she tried to get me to put her first and God second, which in October 1999 caused God, she told me in great distress, to tell her she was not the one, which led to my being put with wife 6, whose hand I already was holding as Jesus, Michael and Magdalene were healing her of being sexed from age 3-age 18 by her father.

Anyway, in early 1999, I was really under the weather, barely able to get out of bed. One morning, a Pentecostal Christian I had met a few months prior, who was under the care of three different psychiatrists and taking pills all three had prescribed for him, he had told me, called to say during his prayer time that morning, God had told him to tell Sloan he should read the Letter to the Hebrews. I thanked the caller and got out my Bible and read Hebrews.

It is a scolding by an anonymous author of Jews who had entered the Melchizedek initiation, perhaps they had known Jesus personally, perhaps his disciples, for turning away from their path and going back to their old ways. The author told them they should be eating meat, they should be teaching, but they were still drinking milk. The author warned them of the grave peril they faced of turning away from the path on which they had embarked, and urged them to return to it.

There was more, but that was the gist of what I needed to see in that moment. I understood what was happening to me, I was in the Melchizedek priest initiation. My outside/human life events cranked up in chorus with the revelation. That was when I came to understand Mary Magdalene had authored the Letter to the Hebrews, and that is why it was anonymous, because it was known back then that no man would read it, if it was known a woman had authored it.

Wild would be understatement. Wife 5 was bouncing all over the place. I was head over heels in love with her, wanted to grow old and die with her. Alas, she was not ready, or maybe not willing, to leave me to God to develop me. I was not a Christian. I did not have a paying job. That proved more important to her, even though she was repeatedly told by God, she kept telling me, that my job was what God was doing to me and I was the man God had chosen for her. It broke both of our hearts when she was told she was not the one. Alas, I had told her that was going to happen, if she did not stop trying to change me to suit her.

After we were broken up, she emailed me that God had told her to tell me that “Adam must anchor into God for both Adam and Eve, and let God discipline Eve.” I did not like hearing that, it didn’t seem fair to Adam. Later, though, I accepted it, because I knew how truly difficult it was for any woman to be on this world where humanity had rejected the feminine. In Christendom, Eve is blamed for everything that went wrong. It is not admitted that Adam chose to fall with Eve, when he could have stayed with God. It is not understood that Eve was designed to be curious, and Adam was not. It is not understood that the fall was necessary, because only by falling and experiencing absence from God, could Adam and Eve (humanity) appreciate being with God.

Wife 5 and I were told to view our relationship as “paradise mating” – an Adam and an Eve candidate being paired and taken back into Eden together, hand in hand. Between the horrific tests, we had many tastes of the paradise energies – wonderful beyond human belief – to encourage us to hold the course. However, to be allowed into Paradise for good, as a couple, we had to be purified in fire, right, administered by the two Cherubim with the fire swords guarding the Tree of Life and its ways, as per Genesis. God never told Adam and Eve they could not return to Eden. Jesus and Mary Magdalene made the paradise return to Eden up to when Magdalene chose to remain in Palestine. That is the great tragedy in the Gospels, their love story was nearly all but omitted.

The other great tragedy was the greatest of all the miracles – salvation via believing Jesus was the son God, who died for our sins. If that was all it took to get into heaven, then what was the point off Jesus in the Gospels spending so much time telling his disciples and other people how to live correctly in this life? That was what what bothered Judas, too. It bothers me today, as well. Yet, who can say what is God’s plan? All I will say is I bet my life and soul God’s plan is far more generous than the plan I grew up hearing, the plan my 5th wife maybe still believed after she and I were rent asunder by what had joined us together. Yet, after that, she sometimes came in dreams with information, suggestions, for me. As do all my 7 wives, as do my daughters, as do girlfriends whom I did not marry, as to women friends and men friends, as do my father and mother and brother and grandparents. and my father’s second wife, and my former inlaws. I do not recall my sister coming to me in a dream.

Maybe you and your wife are going to be put into paradise mating, like me and wives 3, 4, 5, 6 and 7 were put. Maybe you and your wife already are in paradise mating. HEAVY WAIT: A Strange Tale, which was put through me in May and June 2001, is about paradise mating, and the healing of a woman who was forced into incest by her older brother and their backwoods Christian parents sided with the older brother and drove their daughter insane until she forgot it all, and then she was sort of okay, like the living dead are sort of okay. But without that history, her side of the strange tale could not have been told. Her fellow had his own demons to be healed. And, they had to learn that God’s will, not theirs, be done. has it now in trade paper back and in Kindle, in English and in Spanish. The Kindle English can be previewed through the first three chapters, which is before the paradise mating part starts. The Spanish edition is at

In retrospect, all of that above seemed generally suggested in dreams last night. In one part of a dream, I was told I could not speak any more with children. I woke and thought, meat instead of milk, and started adding in most of the details as they came into my thoughts as I was typing. I later went back over it and tried to fix typos and related flubs, probably missed a few, and to make a few parts more clear/complete.

Perhaps more later.


To: sloan bashinsky
You do not believe in forgiveness? I am forgiven by the Lord, not you, so for whose benefit did I ask forgiveness?The word ‘He’ is a familiar pronoun for a Spiritual Being that is sexless, and, so, transcends sex; the Judaic appellation for the female aspect of Yahweh is Shekinah (often accompanied by the ‘live long and prosper’ sign lifted by Leonard Nemoy to use in Star Trek). If it is the Goddess you serve, then you would still admit that Christ is the Son of God/dess, and that he came in the flesh to atone for the world’s sins (to be given as an unblemished sacrifice).

Regarding any finite being’s relationship with the Infinite being, he, she, or it can only be female in relation to God. We cannot transmit anything that we have not already received from Him. Thus, we are only receivers in regards to God, and may only be a transceiver when God wills us to transmit to some other finite being.

What is repentance, but the desire to be forgiven and turning away from immoral behavior?

What is faith, but not only trusting that God is good, but remaining loyal to Him even when we are being sorely abused by the world He created? Faithfulness is fidelity, not belief.

If not for your childhood introduction to Jesus and God, in the contexts of religion, how would you have known who was talking to you when They began talking to you. If not for the Episcopal priest, would you have committed what is essentially the murder of one’s self? If not for a Baptist church leader, whom God introduced to me at my library job, I would not have made it through my dark night to be interacting with you now…..You see, even for those who are slated to go beyond organized religion, in their increasing familiarity with God, He is using religion and religious people, to further His plan, regardless of what stumbling stones you still have regarding it.

Again, I must remind you that believing your experience means the same to me, or can be applied to me, is an ASSumption.
Of all my travails(physical and emotional childhood abuses included) and sins(I killed a cat once in cold blood), which are between me and my Creator, sexual molestation, either given or received, has not been my lot (Thank God).

I am not permitted to give you Dustin’s surname, nor may I elaborate any more of my experience with you. But if you ask forgiveness from the Lord, in true repentance, you will be forgiven your sins.

Vaya con Dios,

since you’re so concerned about people getting it on, my sex life has been pretty great in these last 4 years. But that may be hitting a speed bump soon. I’ve been told I may have to conform to Matthew 19:12, perhaps due to my sex life being a block to furthering my relationship to God. Oh well, I thank Him for the experience all the more. Some people have to go from cradle to grave unwillingly celibate.
sloan bashinsky
I struggled last night with replying to yours and finally gave up and asked for dream guidance and turned in.

I dreamt of someone taking off in a twin engine private aircraft with a few passengers on board, who flew it erratically off to the left at low altitude weaving around and just over several trees and continuing to circle low to the left and then slightly clipping and tattering the right wing tip while passing narrowly between two trees and then bringing the plane back to where it had started and setting it down. I was concerned for the pilot and passenger throughout the flight.

2 (engines) is Jesus’ number in spirit code – Father, Son, Holy Ghost. Right (wing) is male, left (wing) is female. I agreed with your  comments about the feminine in yours yesterday, but not about the masculine. The pilot really wanted to fly, but put himself and others at risk, before barely getting back to where he had taken off.
You are that pilot, Jason.
I hope your wife is okay with you doing in this life what you already did when you were Paul – eunuch. I hope that for her sake, and for your and her daughter’s sake.
I hope you reconsider providing Dustin’s last name. the Emiers case was given to Naja and Arnaud by God to investigate and report. They have tried to find out who the fellow in the video on the bicycle on the pier is, but have not been successful. Naja wrote to me yesterday asking if I had been able to learn Dustin’s last name. Here is an email address where you can contact Naja: But for Naja and Arnaud and that video, the KWPD might already have gotten clean away with it.
sloan bashinsky
To: JWH 
Hi, Jason –

I had three more dreams about you, and I was roughed up in dream time last night for not more timely publishing your last email to me and my reply in what has become the
 page at
The first dream was in a nap yesterday. A seriously spiritually-advanced woman I only recently met on Higgs Beach came into the dream with a shotgun and stood beside me and blasted a flying squirrel over the Australian pines out of the air. The squirrel landed on the ground unhurt, and then was just a regular squirrel. You are the squirrel.
The second dream was last night. I was in the old downtown Birmingham YMCA, standing beside a fellow who became a national champion 4-wall handball player. I played him when he was a kid and never beat him. Another fellow I played when he was a kid, a little older than the to be national champion, was a good but a not great handball player, was playing against someone I could not see, who was hitting lots of kill shots (low against the front wall, unreturnable). Then, the unseen adversary hit a low passing shot to the left, which also was not returnable. I was handling a handball, wanting to play, but put it back into the pocket of my navy blue wind jacket I was wearing in the dream. I have a navy blue wind jacket. Navy blue is Melchizedek’s color. The pretty good handball player his Jewish. He is you, and Paul. The unseen opponent is Jesus. Left is the feminine. Shikinah, the Holy Spirit.
The third dream even later last night. My 3rd wife, who became convinced she was a reincarnation of the soul which was Mary Magdalene, came and said she is adding a couple of new chapters to her Lady Sirius tale. Sirius is the dog star. Dog is man’s best friend. Spelled backwards, dog is God. Lady Sirius is the Holy Spirit, who raised the disciples from boys to men. She is quite something to experience, takes no prisoners, based on my own personal experience with her, and what I saw her do to other people, men and women, she took a special interest in. It looks to me that you have not yet had the pleasure of that experience with Her.
You did the eunuch thing when you were Paul. If you do it again, I hope for your wife’s sake that she is fully behind it. I hope for your sake it is what God really wants and is not an old tape playing, or the Devil playing you.
You do not understand karma, as you sow, you reap. If you did, you would converse very differently with me. You are still quite young in the spirit. You are still drinking milk. You are still living in the ethers for the most part. Boots on the ground is what counts, that’s why you are on this planet.
Paul was a pretty good “handball” player. Jesus was a super star “handball” player. Paul is far easier to digest than Jesus in the Gospels. You would do well to drop Paul, eat only Jesus. That’s quite something to experience, too.
Many are called, few are chosen. Steep is the way, narrow the gate, and few enter therein. The work is great and the labors are few. No man comes to the Father except through me (Jesus). Paul is not Jesus. You cannot get to the Father through Paul, nor to the Mother (the Holy Ghost), as you are doubly proving in this life.
Personally, I’m glad you took your ball and went home like little kids do when they don’t get their way. I was tired of dealing with you, and it was giving me indigestion and putting me on an edge with Evil that requires me to be super cautious and careful. But you were given to me to deal with, and I do what I’m told to do, regardless of how I feel about it.
I have not heard from Naja that you gave her Dustin’s last name. If you did not, if you do not, that will not go down well on your karma bank ledger. Naja was given the Charles Eimers case by God, so the KWPD would not get clean away with it. If you do not side with Naja and God, you side with the KWPD and the Devil. You pick.
I blame myself for not telling you that as soon as I saw you knew the fellow on the bicycle in the video of Eimers’ last moments on this world. That delay is on me, my karma. I would not dare ask God to forgive me for it. That’s up to God. It’s up to me to admit I fucked that up.
Maybe more later for the unfolding “gospel”.
P.S. You were molested in childhood but do not remember it; about half of people who were molested in childhood do not remember it.

Wife #3 took to telling people who asked her, or me, what I did, ie. what was my job?, “the mailman.” When asked what that meant, she said, “Sloan delivers the messages.” Out of the blue something would come to me in conversations wtih other people, and I would say it, and it would be a jolt of some kind. She told people I could see through buildings, around corners. Many times she asked for my take on something she was dealing with concerning other people, and I wold come up with something quick and she would asked how did I know it, how did I see it? She did not dispute it, but how could I have known it? I said I couldn’t explain it. It just happened.
It started happening in August 1988, right after we had returned from Zollikon, outside of Zurich. As if a light switch was thrown, I started seeing and hearing differently. Eventually, wife #3 started telling me she was going to get me a muzzle; that mostly had to do with out of the blue about  her, which I told her. It became a term of endearment, sort of, “I’m going to get you a muzzle.” I think maybe it was Christmas 1994, that she dug down to the bottom of her Christmas stocking hanging over the fireplace mantle and found a dog muzzle. She looked shocked, then she looked peeved. “You got this for me to wear, didn’t you?” I smiled, said something like, “You kept saying you were going to get me a muzzle, so …”
Lady Sirius, dog star, man’s best friend, Holy Ghost, I recall somewhere in the Gospels Jesus told his disciples no to worry what to say when called before the tribunals of men, the Holy Ghost would put the words into their mouths. The change in how I saw and heard was the beginning of my finally starting to write a book about practicing law in a new way.
The vision had come about 9 months prior and I had started right away trying to write the book and all I turned out was garbage. The light switch was throw during a conversation with woman in Maine, who somehow had found me after reading my third book, KILL ALL THE LAWYERS? A Client’s Guide to Hiring, Firing, Using and Suing Lawyers, my farewell to the practice of law. She she said she had a really bad legal problem; I was the only lawyer in the world who could help her. I said I didn’t practice law any more. She said she didn’t know what she would do, then; perhaps she would go to a spiritual counselor, she had been thinking of doing that. I said sometimes I did spiritual counseling, did she want to approach her legal problem in that way? She said okay. I said explain the problem to me, start at the beginning and bring me up to date.
 As she talked, I started getting information about her, about what each person and each scenario i her legal problem represented in her life in the soul sense, all of which I shared with her. It was blowing us both away. That was the beginning of the new book, although her story got placed elsewhere in the book before it was published in September 2000. Lots of people came to me that way, out of the blue, with more stories for the new book. Some of my own brushes with the law were included, and the soul meaning for me. I was turned every which a way but loose writing it. It was about projection, and pulling back the projection, instead of reacting to it, acting on it. It was about first  take the beam out of your own eye, is another way of saying it.
THE HIGH LEGAL ROAD; A New Approach to Legal Problems
I must have re-written it five times, because the angels did not like how I was telling it. They sent people to edit it, read it, beat me up about how I was saying it. I nearly gave up several times, so stupid and humiliated did I feel. Yet, it was only a first step. A second book about projection came after it, Prisons & Freedom. And even then the terrible course in mirrors was not finished for me. It went on at a torrid pace for several more years, before finally starting to slow down. But it did not ever completely go away.
Every time I publish something today, I fret over whether it is in the clear, is the tone okay, or good enough? It is this the topic that needed to be covered  today? I fretted over everything I wrote to you. I fret over this email. Yet it is in keeping with my dreams last night about Lady Sirius, wife #3, who was convinced she was an incarnation of Mary Magdalene, and she was not happy about it by any means.

In fact, wife #3 did not like it so much, having been Magdalene, that she switched lanes for money and became a Buddhist. She is a licensed clinical social worker and a teaching member of Sandplay Therapists of America.

I didn’t like having been Judas, either, but I did not switch lanes, and it cost me a great deal of heartache in lost love relationships, and a great deal of money, and horrendous dark nights of the soul, and I ended up homeless.

I gave up everything, as Jesus told his disciples in the Gospels they would do, if they followed him. He also told them, if they abided in him, they would come to know the truth and the truth would make them free. To that, I would add, living the truth would make them free. Yet they were not free; their lives were required in service to God for so long as they lived on this world.

Your and my correspondence had, for me, the unexpected effect of having me write down a “brief history of time”, my own, with Jesus, Michael, Magdalene-Melchizedek and God. Something I had written in scattered ways in the past, but not in all one clump. And, it had the effect of bringing in Paul, whom many Christians I have known seem to prefer to Jesus.


 Sloan (Davis polo shirt)Sloan at Coco's
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truth, or consequences – Key West shaman school training, and way beyond …

holy fire 2

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Check out the first piece in today’s new Friday edition of, about what more and more is looking like a cover up in the Thanksgiving Day death of Charles Eimers while in police custody.

Investigation or Cover-up?

Further kudos to Arnaud and Naja Girard, for doing their best to prevent Charles and his bereaved family from going silently into the night.

Check out also City Commissioner Tony Yaniz’ guest editorial on Truman Waterfront:

GUEST EDITORIAL: A Park is a Park is a Park?

Jerry Weinstock, M.D., Psychiatry, retired, marine biologist by passion, wrote about when water pollution flags fly on Higgs Beach and other city beaches:

Sloan–If one of our beaches has fecal contamination
the others being in very close proximity
they at one time or another or another tide
will also be—contaminated!!

Diarrhea from fecal contamination kills
worldwide 6000 per day mostly children
under the age of 5 years. 2.3 Billion people
suffer from disease due to dirty water.
This is serious and we have those monster
ships dumping unimpeded off shore.

any outbreak publicized will affect tourism
big time——here —-!! Jerry

I replied:

Hi, Jerry – don’t suppose we should hold our breath waiting on the city, county and TDC to show concern for human beings welfare when there is money to be made from their wallets, in sickness and in health, til …

fecal contamination, MRSA, in local waters of no consequence …

Jerry wrote:

Hi Sloan: You hit the Bulls-eye;
one of our insensitives
needs to suffer with severe
MRSA———–health of no consequence
air or waterborne—–city fathers , chamber of
commerce die-hards, RL M.D.
all could be targets for coli-form microbes
and carcinogenic fumes. all those that
are oblivious !
kind regards! Jerry

I wrote:

Having had a near-death experience with dysentery (when I was 20), and two much later lovely salmonella infections which caused me to wish I was dead, and three different rounds with MRSA in the Keys (since mid-2003), one of which nearly killed me, I would not wish those or any life-threatening diseases on anyone. Perhaps, though, it will take those in power, who ignore what you and I know, because we have experienced it and they have not, to experience it themselves, and in that way their perspective and priorities change. Ditto for the “homeless disease” – until they contract it and it nearly kills them, they don’t know what it is they are trying to “manage”.

Tim Gratz started lobbying me about what I reported in two different posts about Ken Morris, after he spoke at the Frederick Douglass Gymnasium in Bahama Village, Key West.

Tim Gratz of Key West wrote yesterday:

I forgot to send you this report. Ken Morris charmed everyone he met and had a terrific day in Miami yesterday.

I replied:

He charmed me, too. The angels had some suggestions for his future endeavors.

Tim wrote:

He is a very decent man. Sloan, he draws no salary and he has been living off the savings from his previous business venture.

He intends to just give away the curriculum he developed for schools.

He brought joy to so many young people yesterday. It was a joy to be there to experience that.



I wrote:

If Ken is living off his savings, then in that sense he and I are alike. He could have told me that himself, instead of Rick telling me the same thing twice, without asking Ken, who was staying with him and Cynthia, and now you tell me. Maybe Ken will tell me himself; he’s the horse’s mouth, you and Rick are not.

I’m glad Ken is reaching children, I hope he tells them in the future about USA using children after they grow up to traffic in stupid, evil, ruinous wars, which I seriously doubt USA could do if no African-Americans played along with it.

I didn’t expect you to get the point, Tim. I didn’t expect anyone to get the point, not even Ken. Maybe some people got the point, maybe even Ken did. He got it if his female is working. But getting the point, and then making personal adjustments to go with it, are two entirely different things.

People who are certain they are saved, in the sense you define salvation, tend, in my experience, to miss the point a lot. Lucifer is delighted for people to miss the point.


Tim wrote:

He of course had no idea you would attack the $500 charge in your column, It might have been prudent for you to inquire about it before you claimed it was excessive.

He could sell his curriculum to schools, and I would urge him to do so to help with costs, but he is so devoted to the cause that he intends to always provide the curriculum to schools free of any charge even though there are of course costs associated with its development and production.


I wrote:


You yourself started this issue being discussed when you hit on Todd German for his bank to help you and Connie [Gilbert]finance bringing Ken Morris down to Key West. Todd said you told him, after he dragged it out of you, was how it came across when Todd explained it to me, that Ken would receive a $500 per day. That’s what I reported, after I explained it to Rick Boegtter right after Ken spoke at Frederick Douglass Gymnasium, and I asked Rick to ask Ken about the per diem fee, because Ken was staying in Rick’s home. Rick said he would do that and get back to me, but he did not do it. I reported all of that in my post the next day. I sent FYI to Ken, via his email address, the teaser with links to that day’s post. Ken replied, thanking me for the article and saying it was nice meeting me. I replied to Ken, and Ken did not respond (and has yet to respond). I waited two days to give Ken a chance to respond, and then I published what I wrote to him the second time. Ken knows I questioned the $500 charge and he did not provide an explanation. That’s what happened. If I get anything new from Ken, I will share it with my readers.

From my side, it looks like you, and Rick, have tried to use the $500 per day Ken was to receive from Keys Coalition, to avoid dealing with the rest of what I reported and commented on. I am left feeling like I’m dealing with small children, who are you and Rick. I have not formed an opinion yet about Ken, other than I think his calling from being born into Frederick Douglass and Booker T. Washington’s blood lines, is more toward trying to further liberate African-Americans from their white slave masters, vis a vie, waging wars for them which put a whole lot of money into their white pockets, than it is toward stopping the child sex trade and work slavery in America and world-wide.

ML King and Jeremiah Wright saw what white American capitalist wars were doing to African-Americans: extending African-Americans’ l-o-n-g slavery to white American capitalists. I bet Ken sees that, too. But will he go after it and risk the same end ML King experienced?

The child sex trade and the work slave trade are heinous. War for profit is more heinous and it is destroying America’s soul. Alas, war for profit is what USA War, Inc. is all about. If you don’t believe me, Tim, dial up General Dwight D. Eisenhower in heaven and ask him if that was not the same Industrial-Military Complex he warned Americans about when he was leaving office after his second term as US President.


Tim wrote:

Where did you get that German had to drag it out of me? He asked a question what the fee was and I replied immediately.

If you asked Rick to check in to the issue well then I was wrong to fault you for not asking questions.

But I assume you know that there are ways to check on the finances of a public charity.

I did check and Frederick Douglas Family Initiatives is far far from a high finance operation. As stated, I believe that Mr Morris is not even receiving a salary from the organization.

In my opinion Mr Morris is a hero, just as his famous ancestor was a hero.


I wrote:

As I explained yesterday, the way Todd explained his and your conversation to me, as I reported it the next day, it looked to me that you were evasive about what the money you were raising for Morris’ visit would be used for, and Todd kept asking questions, until he asked if Ken was being paid, and you answered that he was getting a per diem, and Todd asked how much, and you said $500. That was in my post the next day.

Did you read that post? For in it, I also wrote that, at the gymnasium, I had told Rick what Todd had told me, and that I wanted Rick to ask Ken about the daily fee, because that was part of the story, too, and I did not want to publish just what Todd had told me; and Rick said he would ask Ken and let me know, and I not heard back from Rick, and I published what Todd had told me. it’s all in that post, Tim, a copy of which you received, Todd received, Connie received, and Ken received and thanked me for.

I cannot help if you do not read what I send to you.

My impression of Ken at Frederick Douglass Gymnasium was quite favorable. I wrote the next day that I had no problem with him being paid for being there, I wished I was paid for what I do. Then, I was gotten onto about that, by the angels. Then, after Ken and written back to me, thanking me for the article, without saying a word about the fee, I was moved to write the long reply to him, which was included, along with his and my previous, in what I published the next morning, along with Rick’s to me, saying he had not asked Ken about the fee, which I received after I had put all the other together in a draft. I published Rick’s, too, with an explanation of when I had received it and also my then reply to him. You received a copy of that, too.

I did not send that second post to Ken, my error, I spaced it out, then when I remembered yesterday that I had spaced it out, I spaced it out again. My dreams last night left me wondering if I should not publish any of this which you initiated, perhaps enough has been published on this. Ken has done a remarkable job, in my opinion. It has put him in a unique position to pick up and go where Dr. King did not, because he was killed. If not Ken, then who? If not now, then when? That’s all I’m saying, Tim.

I will have to sleep on this again, to get a sense of whether or not this is just between you and me, or whether others should see it.


Amiga Stacy replied to what I reported in yesterday’s post at this website of her and my email discussion of Drew, the father of their son, and their son, and shaman training and its risks:

i was protecting Drew. he just wasn’t willing or able to help me with that task. he is on is own now. he is lost and will likely never return to the world.

i have had many opportunities to regret decisions in this life. i do not choose to dwell on that regret, however. in and amongst the things we can regret, there are gems of gratitude and learning. i heard last night that we are part of a group of 12 inhabited planets; Earth is called “the planet of the children”. children are curious, destructive, greedy and sweet all in one day. we are indeed a planet of children, so i refuse to beat myself up for bad decisions. yes, zack came out of that mess and he has taught me more about human nature and patience and paradigm breaking than anyone else i’ve encountered.

yes, we met in orlando. every time i am in that station, i am reminded of such a serendipitous day. i love how we met and am very thankful for our friendship.

thank you for sharing my story in your blog today. i am still working on tweaking it some, but hopefully someone will get something of value out of it.

i am taking a virtual assistant course right now and next month i will be taking an e-writer class. i have a couple of short stories i am working on. i will send them to you to read if you are interested. i don’t think they are blog material, but would appreciate your feedback.

i have decided to turn my dreams into short stories and that is what the two i am currently working on are. i have another one rambling around in my brain. plus, i have a bank vault of memorized dreams from my past. i would love to successfully share these visions and stories with as many folks as are interested.


I replied:

Hi, Stacy –

i heard last night that we are part of a group of 12 inhabited planets; Earth is called “the planet of the children”. children are curious, destructive, greedy and sweet all in one day.

You heard all of that last night?

In your sleep?

Did you recognize the voice?

Was it male, female, neither?

Many people I deal with mostly seem not in the least curious, and mostly seem to respond to life like robots, computer programs, which they defend as if their very existence depends on it, which is not how children usually are.

Other people I deal with are more curious to a point, but tend to be ignorant, for want of a better word, and gullible, and wanting to be liked and/or “politically correct” more than wanting to be real.

I wonder, if this indeed is a planet of children, what’s the point of not letting them be children? Why program and robotize them? Children don’t do that to themselves; it is done to them by so-called adults, who, perhaps, are programmed and controlled by something of which they are not aware.

Looked to me that Jesus in the Gospels entire mission was to try to wake people up, get them to drop their computer programs, wanting to be liked, politically correct, members in good standing of the herd, which in his day was out of touch with reality, and is today, also.

Maybe who/what told you that last night will have more to say to you tonight. Based on my experiences, people need to experience this kind of inquiry and discussion, if only by reading it.

The angels drilled into me that experience is the real teacher, and the only real way to change is through experience, which Zack gives to you, which Drew gave to you, which I gave to you.

We can hope, or not, that we learn from our experiences, and change. Otherwise, we are static, or going backward, is how it was explained to me.

Maybe that’s why I came up with the notion, perhaps not entirely facetious, that the human evolution theory is backward; monkeys and apes show humans where they are headed, if they don’t wake up :-)



When a Key West amiga told me yesterday about a couple she knows, who are confined to wheel chairs, having met and fallen into love and doing things together, and are starting to enjoy life, I said I wished I could be so lucky as to meet someone I could have that experience with. My friend said I have lots of friends. I said I am the loneliest person she knows. She said that’s because I push people away, it’s my way or the highway. All I write about on my websites is myself, she said.

I told her, before I came to the Keys, I was on an entirely different program, over half of which was being with a woman who, like me, was being prepared to go, as a couple, into the world to work. That was the game plan, but it didn’t work out, and not because it was my way or the highway. It didn’t work out because of the huge pressure the women, when they were with me, and I were under. So, Plan B was invented for me, the shit plan, which I started doing after I arrived in Key West in late 2000.

I said, getting dunked into Key West and Florida Keys politics killed a life-long love affair I’d had with the Keys before I came to Key West in late 2000. I used to weep when I left the Keys, and I wept when I came to them. My heart sang when I arrived. When I left, I felt part of me had stayed in the Keys. No more. That all died because of the political work in the Keys. Now, I don’t give a shit what happens down here; I do what I do because it is what is given to me to do. If I was told to leave the Keys tomorrow, I would do so and would not miss the Keys, although I would miss some people down here.

My friend looked at me like I was nuts, or a total stranger. It was not the first time I had told her that, nor the second, and other things about myself, including what I did before I came to Key West in late 2000. She cannot take it in because it is not of her perception or experience. For the same reason, she cannot take in my experiences with angels, and with demons, which she keeps saying are my perception and belief, because she does not believe in any of that, or in the afterlife. I don’t believe in any of it, either, because I experience it ongoing. I know it is there, there is nothing about it for me to believe.

When she said, well, if I am so miserable, I could kill myself, I said, I’m concerned about the consequences of doing that. Consequences for who?, she asked. Consequences for me, I said. I would be dead, she said. I said there is no such thing as death, nobody dies. They just leave their bodies. They continue.

There she is on one side. There Tim Gratz is on another side, so sure he is saved, that it doesn’t matter what he does, or doesn’t do, while he is on this world. Me. I have no clue where I stand with God, nor do I think Tim, or anyone else, does either. I do what is given to me to do, because I know where it comes from, and know it is in my best interest to do it as well as I can, and if I don’t use my best effort, there will be consequences, which I will experience.

In more than a few ways, I used to be like Tim. However, I never was a right-wing Christian, all others die and burn in hell forever. I never felt accepting Jesus as Lord saved me from my misdeeds. I did what I did, for better and for worse, and really didn’t worry about the consequences. Then, the angels apprehended me in early 1987. After that, I soon was quite concerned about the consequences of what I did, for worse. As time passed, I became even more concerned about the consequences I did, for worse.

I also came to see that everything the angels arranged for me to experience was for me to respond to in a way that would increase my spirit vibration. My life became, to be blunt, a very selfish enterprise; it was all about me, all about my own spiritual development, deepening, widening, increasing my spirit velocity.

I came to that view because I was told in my sleep that was what was going on. I was told that in April 2006, after being told the species did not reach escape velocity, this had happened before, but I still had a chance to do it, and I would be given experiences that would give me a chance to increase my velocity. And, I should remember Daniel, who was the dreamer in the Bible (Old Testament), and the dream interpreter, his and other people’s dreams, and the fellow who a king put in a lions den and the lions did not eat him.

From that day forward, I have viewed everything I was given to engage as being for me, and if someone else gained from it, terrific; but if no one else gained from it, not my problem. That’s why I don’t get hung up on what I am given to engage; I get hung up on how I engage it, and how the angels feel about how I engage it. The outcome is irrelevant, the engagement is everything for me.

So, what I wrote in the last few paragraphs above is all about me. What I write otherwise is about the people in those reports and my engagements with them, and my impressions, for better and for worse. Yet, even when I write all about me, it is not all about me.

There are people who do not know what I know, because they have not experienced what I have experienced, but who might be helped by what I write about me, if what I experience is visited on them. From my experiences, they might see they are not going insane, or are imagining what is happening to them, or try to kill themselves, or kill themselves, or drug themselves into oblivion. From my experiences, they might grok that their experiences are real, even if nobody they know believes anything they say they are experiencing.

In the Gospels, the shaman Jesus was fully aware the experiences he was having were to refine him spiritually, and if anyone else benefited, terrific; but if no one else benefited, it was not his problem. He left a wonderful road map for living in the Kingdom of God, without dying. Not an easy road map, by any means. But a true road map, laid out in what is reported in the Gospels, as what he did and said other people should do, and not do.

Jesus very well knew the Devil was for real, and demons, and angels, and God. Jesus believed none of that; he knew it was real, because he experienced it. Christians believe it is real. My Key West amiga doesn’t believe any of it is real. I know it is real, I suppose, because Jesus has been on my case since he and Archangel Michael apprehended me in early 1987.

Believe me or not, I really don’t care. I have all I can say grace over just keeping the angels happy with how I engage what they arrange for me to experience. Too bad it is not like that for everyone. What a very, very different world this would be. What a very, very different world.

I have been with a few women who knew what I just wrote about myself, we talked about it, we did not doubt it, because they were experiencing it, too. When you are in that kind of relationship with a woman, walking and talking with angels all the time, it’s a tad of a led down, a real bummer actually, when it does not happen any more. And, it is lonely as hell. Like Adam was lonely as hell. I mean that quite literally.


I wrote the above last night, thinking, it is because of my “in-human” perspective that I am able to engage dispassionately what the angels serve up; I don’t get tangled up in causes; I cut to the chase, and move on; I am invulnerable to social and political pressure for me to bend to other will; I listen to what other people say and feel, and then, as advised by the angels, I say and do what seems best in the big scheme of things.

Mi Key West amgia who jumped my bones yesterday about my lonely life being the result of my pushing other people away with my way or the highway, and my writing only about me, wrote this morning:

Hi Sloan
Thank you for coming out in support of the Growing Hope Initiative.
My mind wasn’t focused on the subject you wanted to talk about.
attached a little something to make you smile…
Best wishes for a smooth snooze

Sent from my iPhone

Begin forwarded message:

Subject: Tr : FW: Jésus: un sacré rigolo !!  
  1heure de rire et j en passe bises
Subject: Jésus: un sacré rigolo !

Imaginez vous à leur place

I wrote back:

Funny Jesus video, never saw it happen in real life, though.

Right after talking with you, I spoke with your hubby about a lot of different things, including the dying manatee on the east and west coasts of Florida, due to chemical run off coming out of Lake Okeechobee, the impending dumping of the chemical run off back into the Glades, which means into the Bay of Florida, which means into the Keys water, death to what’s left of the reef.

Hubby said my blog is wonderful, lots of people really are appreciating it. I said his wife just told me all I wrote about is myself. He looked like I had punched him in the nose. I said it again. He said it’s a wonderful blog.

I had a dream at dawn this morning, which left me with the impression that the reason I am so lonely, the reason the women I loved and it did not work out, is because I molested my 5 year old sister when I was 15. I thanked the angels for explaining, finally, what was going on around that, and I apologized for being so stupid that I did not see the obvious without them having to explain it to me.

I found myself thinking last night that you remind me a lot of Tim Gratz, who is so closed in, programmed, that he cannot even imagine that his theology/cosmology perspective might not be accurate.

I also found myself thinking last night, because I am detached from what I am given to engage, because I don’t turn any of it into a religion, because I don’t have expectations for how any of it turns out, that enables me to engage it where it needs to be engaged, at the fulcrum points, the weak points, the places where it can be cracked and the light can start getting in. The angels show me the places to strike, when I don’t see them on my own, which sometimes I do, but oft not.

I’m explaining the Jesus I know, personally, who, along with others, trained me, rides me. He is just as real as you are. So is Lucifer.



There are no fig leaves in Paradise, nor any secrets.

Or, as Jesus said in the Gospels, if you abide in him, you will come to know the truth and the truth will set you free.

The women I was with got very large doses of the truth. It dang near choked them. They didn’t get it from me. They got it from the angels. As did I. It darn near choked me.


Sloan Bashinsky

Welcome home, Kali

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