Monday, May 11, 2020

Prophets needed, who's willing to be stoned or struck by lightning?

From a Florida Keys amigo today:


I agree that humans will eventually destroy this Earth if they keep plundering it.

We may need Divine intervention!

Hugs

I sent him the Asian lightning gal.

From the May 9, 2020 Maybe it's time for Daniel to return? post at this blog:

Got very long email 12:45 a.m. today from the second manager of Sippin’ Internet CafĂ©, in Key West, recapping my life as he understands it, lots of critical advice about my delusional life and writings, I need to see an internist and a psychiatrist, read the Bible, and ignore your and Kari’s dreams, and my own dreams. He's dying of lymphoma, is on seroquel and other psych drugs. Had no clue who he was until he mentioned my lady art work was in the bathroom at Sippin'. He criticized the art. It was him who told me to put it in the bathroom. He really liked the art back then.

I replied to the fellow and sent him the blog post mentioned above. He replied today:

Wrong Gary, Bash. This is Gary S. My folks moved from Cicero to South Alabama in 1948. My mother was African American, my father Sicilian. Father was educated at University of Chicago and had an MS. When he married a woman of color his PhD program wrote him a letter(from U of I Urbana-Champaign) that they could no longer work with him and they wished him the best- no reason specified. While he was away in the war, he was hit, recuperated and served again. Father had a job promised to him at college there but they Balked- saying his living arrangement with me, his maid and mammy was highly inappropriate- either she and tot went or the job went- father went jobless I was but a little boy but even I understood what was happening. And it was because my father had white skin, my mother had dark skin, and I had a milky brown skin tone, except as it happened.

I talked to you about this as it entered the 2008 season of elections as I believed Obama would bring a better solution to American than Hillary. By 2016 I was so sick Obama claimed to be a community activist, and had done nothing to community

I never had anything to do with Sippin' other than I sure as hell enjoyed their coffee, their occasisonal pastry and browsing the Internet. It was almost culture in Key West. But like anything of culture in K-W, it was subsequently destroyed. Bahama Village ? Might as well have been razed and all people of color, myself and Barbara included taken to the mainland, and Monroe County put up a sign: NO COLOREDS ALLOWED. I remember those signs, I remember the looks you got having a black mother, white father, Key West had become "that" kind of place.

I never knew the Arnaud's as you did- in fact, I made it a point to not become involved. Based on my time as an engineer and then doing abatement studies I realized no one in the right mind would want to vacation on a spoil island. So I felt that as much good they did, I wondered if people should have been exposing themselves to carcinogens in the soil.

I wake up this time of night and can't go back to sleep. I will either jerk around and this damned port become a problem and the care nurse need to be woken up.

How much did it cost to print those Redneck Mystics and then have them distributed around the South ? A paper copy I found had been well thumbed but had an inscription to "Pass it On by Order of the (Some Biker Gange) (Some member name)" with a doodle of a large handgun pointing at the reader. Pass it on I did, after I read it. A woman Barb knows in Milton found a copy there with a different doodle and message to read it, said Kilroy had been here but he was passing his copy on and so should you, after reading. Kilroy was looking up at the reader.

Like you I guess I think I have a prescription for fixing the world. I wonder in this time which may be the end for man based on so many events, what makes you so sure of your prophet ? God warned us of false prophets, especially now.

We're in a world with war, plague and I guess maybe a rapture soon.
I figure it will be just my luck to pass and then the rapture occur and all those people raptured they'll be wanting to cut line.

I can still see the humor in dying.

I wish you better days and a clearer head from which to live them, and less pain. How you came upon these superstitions and made them your compulsions I do not yet understand. But I know man is not responsible for mental illness, but when its recognizable and debilitating- it should be treated.

I will ring again for my nurse.

I replied:

I feel awful for your suffering, which causes me to think again that I hope when my time comes, it is quick, or even sudden, and not lingering.

I think I would have different perspectives if my parents had been African and Sicilian. I think you would have different perspectives if you had had my parents. They instilled things in me, sometimes for the better, other times not. What ended up happening neither they nor I could have predicted.

It amazes me that I am still alive, after all the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual rough-sledding that followed the first visitation in early 1987, after I had made a desperate prayer, "Dear God, please help me. I do not wish to die like this, failed. I offer my life to human service." About 10 days later, in the wee hours, I awoke to see two spirit beings hovering above me in the darkness. White with slight blue tint, shaped something like a shift. No detailed features, no wings, I assumed they were angels. I heard plainly, but not in my ears, "This will push you to your limits, but you asked for it and we are going to give it to you." I remembered the desperate prayer. Then, I saw a white flash and was physically jolted by something electrical. Twice more that happened. The two beings faded out. It had begun. I had no clue what lay ahead. If I had known, maybe I would have killed myself?

Telling that story many years later got me locked up and they meant to throw the key away, but it didn't go as they had planned. A whole lot of people would then cross my path, that's how it tended to work, for I was not looking for them, and this and that would happen, and they would be okay with it somewhat, or even intrigued, or they would not be happy, or they would be really angry, or upset. 

I was told a few times when I lived in the Florida Keys that I had really good ideas and would have been elected if I had not talked about God, angels, the devil, dreams, etc. 

I met very few Christians who were comfortable with what I said I was hearing from Jesus, Michael and Melchizedek about current events and people and passages in the Bible. Quite a few times Christians told me God stopped talking to people after the Bible was written. 

I felt like I was from another planet, stranded here by the mother ship. Sometimes I would meet someone who kinda seemed in the same boat. Only a handful of those few, though, were captured by something much larger than themselves, which they knew in their bones and souls was taking them down a road very few people traveled or could imagine.

Looks to me humanity is at a Rubicon, thanks to lots of factors, most recently the coronavirus. Which is more important, survival of humanity, or survival of the planet, seems to me a really poignant question? I wrote a bit about that in yesterday's post at my blog: 


Godspeed, Gary

Sloan

P.S. 
Apologies, I see I did not answer your question about "Prophet". Unknown to me, when he first approached me in early 2017, he had followed me since 2010, when my brother went missing and I was writing blog posts about that. When "Prophet" introduced himself in 2017, he said he had wanted not to get involved, but he came under increasing pressure from what he knew were supernatural forces, to the point he was nearly dead, so he contacted me. He reported a dream about how something really rough I was involved in would turn out, and after a while it resolved as he had dreamed. By then, we were in regular communication. I then published a great deal of what he reported he was hearing from several angels one or more at a time (Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Khamael and Melchizedek) during sit-down meetings in his living room when he was wide awake, dreams during his sleep, while he was praying, and in sudden waking visions. I did not publish it all. I resonated with most of what he reported being told, took wait and see view. He did same. He knew he did not know what would happen, only what he was told and shown. Hard to imagine the disciple John understood what is reported came to him in the Book of Revelation. Daniel had an apocalyptic dream he did not understand. "Prophet's" steady reluctance to be used in that way is why I recently started calling him "Jonah". He is not religious, does not attend church. His parents are skeptics. He did not ask for it. It was imposed on him. I was told in my sleep last year that I am his John the Baptist. He did not like hearing about that, nor rehearing it when he got tired of me publishing some of what he reported to me. He very definitely does not claim what he is told will come to pass. There are plenty of self-proclaimed prophets who do just that. Perhaps the prophesies "Jonah" receives are what could happen, different potentials, warnings to shape up, or else. Jonah recently reports being told there is division in the angelic realm regarding what to do with humanity, Lucifer knows of the division and is very pleased. I think Lucifer is pleased with a great deal of what happens on this planet.

Also apologies for not explaining that the little blue jacket book about remarkable people I have known literally jumped out of me, as told in the "Preface", in the fall of 2004. The little book was self-published and there were several reprints. I gave away maybe 2,000 copies, got lots of nice feedback. I don't recall drawing anything in the books I gave away. Occasionally, I autographed a copy. Not told is what led up to the book being written. I blew a huge political assignment early that year in Key West, to run for county commission as a write-in candidate. I was told to write differently in my email blasts. Be nice. I had a rough time being nice about what I was engaging in local politics and otherwise. I had skin MRSA and it kept coming back after the newest round of antibiotics ended. I was living in a tent in a homeless camp in the wetlands next to the airport. I was being zapped horribly every time I did not write an email blast that suited the angels. Nearly every day I was being zapped. I fell into an awful pit. I felt I was going nuts, was possessed by Lucifer. It was during that time I was asked in my sleep, "What do you think of the species." I answered, as reported in the blog post I emailed you. The next day, I was told to take one day's dose of the new MRSA prescription, then not take any more of it. I did that. The new MRSA sore on my arm started receding. It kept receding. In three weeks, there was no sign of it. There was no medical or human explanation. But the soul anguish continued. I was allowed to suffer in that awful morass until early June, when I was told in my sleep that I needed to leave Key West and go where I had summered a few times before in north Georgia. The poem below fell out of me that morning. I left on Greyhound soon after and was taken in for several months by friends in north Georgia. My dreams were nightmarish but externally things were improving. Finally, I started writing about remarkable people. Shed rivers of tears, oceans of snot. That was how I was restored from blowing not running for county commission in the Florida Keys after being plainly told to do it, several times. Had I run in 2004, who knows what might have happened? Perhaps nothing, Perhaps a lot. I'll never know, because I blew the assignment.

Below is a link to a blog where the remarkable people book can be read free. This poem near the beginning of the book heralded the trip to north Georgia, and much more:

SHANGHAIED
A calling to serve carries its own wisdom,
which legitimates both the calling and the serving
so that the two are one.
Only the one called to serve
can know this wisdom,
and for some who are called
the knowing comes easily,
while for others the knowing is a fiery baptism.
Each calling is different,
and while some callings can be declined,
others cannot,
and those whose calling is without repentance
know they are in it for the duration of the calling,
and while others may try to persuade them out of it,
the calling for ones such as these always prevails;
thus is it advised to all called for keeps
that they view their calling as a blessing
even when it seems at times to be a curse,
and that they try to reconcile the loss of their captain status
and allow the Spirit of God to man the helm of their ship,
and be glad and willing crew members thereon,
knowing that all sailing ships of souls
need a crew as well as a captain
to maintain and navigate the ship through
seas of many tones, depths and flavors;
so consider each league sailed
as part of the overall journey
going to where the captain deigns to go
by using whatever winds and sea currents available
to navigate the ship to the experiences
this ship and crew need to have
in order to fulfill their calling and its wisdom
revealed by the journey of many leagues,
many known only to the ship and its crew,
all of whom come to know,
some sooner than others,
that once conscripted
there is no safe jumping ship.

sloanbashinsky@yahoo.com


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