Midsommar: Twenty-something Dani is a fairly typical modern American white girl: an anxious, depressed, clingy mess. . .and that's before her sister and parents die in a murder/suicide. After that, well, she's even more of a bummer, such a wreck that her boyfriend Christian (a typical American Christian, in that he's not Christian) wants to sneak away to a Swedish commune and enjoy its once-every-ninety years grand celebration of all things white and pagan. But Dani finds out about Christian's little getaway, so Christian, burdened by guilt, invites her to join him and a few of his other pals for the holy pagan days under northern Sweden's never-setting summer sun. Midsommar starts out as an eerie, creepily effective juxtaposition of modern scientific and ancient pagan treatments for the disordered mind, but soon melts under the hot Scandinavian sun into a muddled puddle of pagan nonsense. None of the rituals make any sense, but they do make for arty, gOOfy, gory daylight nightmares: for example, two old people dive off a cliff, one face-first, the other feet-first, onto boulders, and then have what remains of their skulls crushed with a giant mallet. There is no point in bothering to wonder what any of Midsommar's bloody and/or kinky faux-rituals mean. They are meaningless, and, if we want to give the sometimes black-humored script a credit it may not deserve, may simply be viewed as Grand Guignol placebo effects, which somehow manage at film's end to leave poor sad Dani with a smile on her face. Midsommar is not a *good* movie, because it never seriously advances a homeopathic alternative to our xanax society, but only wallows in lurid/absurd camp paganism. Still, one cannot deny it is an artfully constructed decadent distraction. Perhaps one could even label it a prototype from an emergingÀ rebours school of film making, a celluloid version of Huysman's bejeweled tortoise shell. Chambers: A poor teenage Native American girl has a heart attack, and receives a rich white girl's heart in a transplant. The Native American becomes haunted or possessed or some shit by the white girl, who died, as they say, *under mysterious circumstances,* possibly at the hands of one or more members of her weird New Age family. Chambers is a slow-moving mess of racial and class cliches stewed in a convoluted crystals-and-shamans cult horror script. The show is too stupid and poorly acted to hold one's attention to its jumbled script. The main character, the Native American girl, is played by a splotchy-faced newcomer named Sivan Alyra Rose. She looks like an ashy-faced, cheaply-made Zendaya knock-off. And her *acting* is the biggest horror of the show, she scowls and pouts through ten interminable episodes, making her character an unsympathetic victim of the heart transplant hocus-pocus. It's hard to believe anybody watching this dreary supernatural mess could care whether her perpetual bummer of a character lives or dies. Stranger Things, Season 3: And it's hard to believe how far this show has fallen. [If I were Rex Reed, I'd now call this an *ossified franchise*] It has always featured a remarkably unappealing cast of pasty-faces, greasy-hairs, bug-eyes, anorexics and fat slobs, and the cast grows even more repulsive-looking with each season, and adding to the over-all ugliness of the characters in season 3, the costume designer has dressed them in the most hideous shorts and cut-offs from the '80s. . .if you love looking at spindly white legs, this is the show for you. But the series itself has degraded from season one, which was a fairly fresh and decently plotted thriller, into season three's weird kiddie porn/sitcom/conspiracy/monster streaming bric-a-brac where Hopper spends an inordinate amount of time trying to catch the barely-teenage Mike and Eleven making-out and where shopping malls are actually a Russian plot to de-magnetize America's refrigerator magnets, or some shit. The Mind Flayer also shows up to torment a fat old lady before possessing pool boy/gigolo-wannabe Billy, a preening bully of a character we are meant to, but do not, feel sympathy for because of one brief flashback scene showing his daddy yelling at him for being a shitty baseball player. Anyway, other stuff happens, you know, Eleven holds out her arms and has nose bleeds in *fights* with the Mind Flayer, she gets a Mind Flayer boo-boo on her leg which Jonathan tries to fix but only manages to make the other kids take the Lord's Name in vain, two of the kids are revealed to be trendy gays, and they all squabble unmercifully for eight tedious episodes. No show in the history of television has ever featured more screeching, shrieking and shouting. The cast scream insults at each other in an ear-splitting atonal assault meant to mask, one supposes, the script's utter lack of harmonic development. Yes, season three's much-hyped *moving ending* is satisfying—because all the kids finally wear long pants. That this show is still a *hit* and fairly-well reviewed, reveals just how stupid and undiscerning American audiences and critics have become. Dark: With an attractive cast of competent actors, this series about the apocalyptic events brewing in a small German town focuses on four dysfunctional families with more than enough skeletons in the closet to plot a dozen soap operas. . .although, given that each of the families sport a time-traveler or two, this is Soap Opera on a Cosmic Scale. The intelligent, clever, endlessly thought-provoking script features time-traveling based on the Causal Loop Paradox, where an object or information from the future can be sent back to the past and creates a never-ending cycle in which each object no longer has any real origin, as if it exists without having been created. The paradox of time's never-ending cycle also creates the show's heavy, tragic, fatalistic gloom. No matter to what extraordinary lengths the characters will go to try to change the past and prevent the apocalypse, nothing avails (at least, through the show's first two seasons). And trust me, this brief synopsis barely scratches the surface of Dark's thematic foundations. There are cultic, biblical and mythic elements as well, that combine with the time-traveling soap operatics to create a remarkable philosophical meditation on the nature of Time and its consequences for man. Unlike most of current movies and television, Dark is not easily forgotten.
"Bro? You hear me, bro?" I nod. "I said I ain't goin' out like dat, bro!" I nod again. I'm sixty-one fucking years old, and I don't really like being called *bro,* but that's this guy's way, so. . .whatever. "I ain't standin' on dat ledge wit my stomach beggin' me. Wit my stomach remindin' me life beat my ass." "I definitely hear you," I say. We're walking down 4th Street, heading toward Washington. "If I had money I'd buy you something to eat, but I'm broke. Not even a nickel." "How can you be broke, you been workin' for twenty years!" Twenty years! That's a laugh. Try forty fucking years, the last fifteen pure misery in a county jail. But I don't laugh. And I'm not broke. I got a little money. But I'm not jumping. So I'll need my money for the future. I ask him: "What's it like, having no future?" "Huh? What? I don't know, bro! I ain't had nothin' to eat for two days! I can't think!" I see some fool on the other side of the street, shuffling back and forth, maybe mumbling to himself or something, his head bobbing, his long braids jumping. Fucking idiotic fool. I point at him. "Let's ask that cocksucker for some money." "Him? He ain't got no money!" "Dude," I laugh, "you know some fat white girl that works in a mini-mart or something gave that piece of shit twenty dollars not more than two hours ago. I guarantee it." I start to cross the street. "C'mon, if you want to eat." "Bro, even if he has money, he ain't gonna give it to us!" "If he doesn't, I'll hit him high, and you hit him low." He looks up and down the street. "People will see us!" There's a few people scattered here and there. It's 11:30 or so at night. "Dude, so what? It's the End of the World." He stands there, frozen. "I can't." I sigh.
This is getting tiring. There's a bus stop bench up ahead. I go sit down. He sits next to me. "Sorry, bro." I nod. I've known this guy, Dennis, for about fifteen years. I met him in jail. I booked him in at least twenty times over the years, spent hours talking to him while he was on the cleaning crew. Watched him grow from a punk teenager to a punk thirty-something. One of those small-time sad-sacks who fell through the cracks and just kept falling, never doing anything serious enough to land in prison, just little stretches in the county jail. Intoxication and petty larceny are the sum of his life. That being said, has his life been any more wasted than anybody else's? I've been free of the jail for about a year, now. There was a Gaspar Noe movie at the State Theater I wanted to see. As I was coming out, a little disappointed, I must say, I was walking along, not paying attention to anything, when Dennis recognized me. Honestly, it didn't bother me to hang out with him for a little bit. He told me about his latest defeat. He'd met some muslim girl on some internet place, and he'd somehow managed to keep her attention for a couple months, vague plans were made to meet in person, then somehow, he wasn't quite sure how, she found out he was a jail bird, and she deleted him or whatever it is you do on the internet. That settled it for him, once and for all. He told me he was on his way to jump off the top of the parking garage at Fourth and Washington. That was well over an hour ago, and now I'm getting tired. It's hot out. Muggy. Breathing in the grime of the street. He says: "I think the bus already stopped runnin'." "I'm not waiting for the bus. I'm just sitting here." "Oh." I feel a bitterness creeping over me. It will sound crazy, but. . .just at this moment I think of that cocksucker Stephen Hawking. I always hated his ugly mug and his ugly thoughts. Master of the Universe! What makes me bitter is that he would be considered *better* than the guy sitting next to me. He would be preferred. What a stupid world. I ask: "You still hungry, bro?" "Yeah." "Let's go up to the party store. You grab some shit while I distract the cashier." I have him go in ahead of me. I wait outside a minute while he looks for something to steal, then I go in. There's a man buying beer and a frozen pizza at the register. I don't see Dennis. When the man leaves the counter, I step up. The cashier is youngish, with short hair dyed green and those plug things in his earlobe holes. Whenever I see somebody with those repulsive things in their ears, which make me slightly sick to look at, I am aware my day has come and gone. I'm living in this loser's time. He says: "Did you need something?" I look at the crap on the counter, little bottles of energy shit, lighters, scratch-off tickets, jerky sticks, I don't want any of it. And I'd said I didn't have any money, anyway. The cashier is waiting. "Do you sell those, uh, helium balloons?" "Balloons?" "Yeah, you know, the kind that float up to the ceiling." "No, man, we don't sell those." "I need one that says 'Get Well Soon.'" "Sorry." I see Dennis hustling out the door. "Yeah. Thanks for nothing." His eyes get squinty, his face scrunches up. His green hair and ear plugs. A portrait of the American future, as I walk out.
Dennis doesn't start eating until we get to the top of the garage. He managed to stuff under his shirt two ham-and-cheese subs, a pack of pepperoni pizza Combos and a Mountain Dew. He chews and slurps loudly as we enjoy the view from the 8th floor. "Bro, look how small the people look." I look down. "Yup. Small." He offers me some Combos. I decline. I say: "Look up there. Way past the clouds and the moon and all that." He looks up. I say: "We're invisible from there. Nothing." "Bro, what? Dat's crazy!" He finishes eating, then, one item at a time, throws his wrappers, bag and bottle over the ledge. It amuses him, greatly. Now that he's done eating, it's quiet up on the top. No cars. No people. Dennis starts fidgeting. There's nothing to do. It's all been done. The anger, the hunger, the distance to walk, everything that stood between him and getting on the ledge, is gone. "Bro, I wasn't really gonna jump, I guess."
"It's not an easy thing to do." "Right?" I nod. For an instant, I believe, for a brief instant, peace reigned. And then he said: "Bro! What am I gonna do tomorrow, bro??"
21 July 2019: Georgia state Rep. Erica Thomas, who asserted in a tearful Facebook post that a white man at a Publix grocery store told her to "Go back to where you came from!" seems to be less sure that the Friday encounter was exactly how she remembered. After reaffirming to reporters Saturday that a white man had verbally accosted her and her daughter telling them to "go back" to where they came from in a racially charged tirade, Thomas was interrupted by the accused man himself, Eric Sparkes, who had a very different story to tell. Sparkes accused Thomas of faking the story for political purposes, saying he was, in fact, a Cuban American Democrat who was simply irritated that she brought so many groceries to the express checkout lane. Thomas rebuked Sparkes' version of events, however, in an interview later in the day on Saturday, saying, "I don't know if he said 'go back,' or those types of words ... I don't know if he said 'go back to your country' or 'go back to where you came from,' but he was making those types of references is what I remember."
A local journalist further asked her, "So you don't remember exactly what he said?" Thomas replied, "No, no, definitely not. But I know it was 'go back' because I know I told him to 'go back.'" In Thomas' original video, the black lawmaker tearfully recounted a traumatic incident in which a man began using racially charged insults after accusing her of bringing too many groceries to the express checkout line. Thomas posted the video to her Facebook account on Friday evening. Thomas' story quickly gained traction in the wake of President Trump's "go back" tweet as the media seemingly believed her version of events, and #IStandWithErica began trending on Twitter.
I have little doubt that the *white man* is telling the truth when he claims he never told the large Georgia state representative Erica Thomas to go back to her country.
It's hard not to be disgusted by Erica Thomas' crybaby Facebook video, in which she weeps over a *hate crime* that almost certainly never occurred.
But. . .
We must remember Thomas was raised in a culture in which from her birth and continuing on throughout her entire life she has been told her skin color has disadvantaged her.
Can we therefore be surprised if her sense of victimization has become so internalized, she can no longer accurately process reality?
Ms. Thomas admits as much herself, in her hemming-and-hawing confession that she cannot actually remember what the *white man* said to her:
But her identity has become so fused to a sense of victimhood, she is nonetheless convinced racist *references* must have been made.
To Ms. Thomas, raised as *disadvantaged,* a white person cannot simply be contrary in a conflict only because of the organic cause of the conflict, the white person must additionally be contrary because of her skin color, and thus a simple disagreement over public behavior becomes a *hate crime.*
When the *white man* approached Ms. Thomas and began to confront her over what he perceived to be her selfish use of the check-out lane, Ms. Thomas, traumatized by her lifetime of *disadvantage,* suffered a break from reality. The psychological stress Ms. Thomas felt from being confronted by a *white man,* the fearsome figure she had been told from birth had the ability to control her life, produced a classic hysterical reaction: selective amnesia, volatile emotions, dramatic attention-seeking behavior.
Thus, to simply call Ms. Thomas a liar, would be a disservice.
More accurately, she should be considered psychologically retarded, and not fully responsible for her actions. Part of the blame for her hysterical Facebook video and false claim of a *hate crime* must be assigned to the anonymous creators of the culture of Black disadvantage.
Of course, we must not overlook President Trump's role in this sad, pathetic racial farce.
It is no coincidence Ms. Thomas suffered her break from reality shortly after President Trump issued his *go back where you came from* tweet to four congressional colored women. Unquestionably Ms. Thomas, as a colored Georgia congresswoman, identified with the objects of Trump's *hate.* With this added stressor, whether conscious or unconscious, Ms. Thomas was much more susceptible to a psychotic break.
Thus, the more President Trump singles out colored people for attack, the more hysterical *hate crimes* we will see. . .
Well, that's America, a melting crackpot with few sympathetic figures. One can only chuckle when trying to imagine, in regard to the rather absurd state of current American racial affairs, what Native Americans must think of all the noise over border *concentration camps* and the juvenile calls for people to *go back where they came from?*
After watching 2 nights of mostly bland democrat debates, the following can be stated with absolute certainty:
Kamala Harris is another empty bi-racial Flim-Flam pol. . .Obama with a cunt. . .no doubt she could beat Trump. . .and then do nothing for 8 fucking years. All style, no substance. Even that *big moment* with Biden was just pure theatre. . .she begged the moderators to give her a chance to perform her busing soliloquy.
Bernie Sanders could beat Trump, but he'll never get the nomination. . .Sanders is fairly honest (for a politician) but the fake Injun Elizabeth Warren (who Trump would crush) has stolen half his supporters. All the proof you need to know Warren is a fraud, and would serve as a waterboy for the Elite, is that Media refuses to grill her for lying about her Native American heritage. Media protects that old bag Warren because Warren will protect the status quo. She talks a lot of *progressive* mumbo-jumbo but her entire career she's been a tool for bankers and the miliary media complex (proof here, here, here, etc.). The only changes she would make to America's brutal Absolute Capitalism are cosmetic. . .in the end, she's just a wrinkled old white gal painting her face red. It's a damn shame this dried-out old cunt is stealing support from Sanders because Bernie still seems sharp as a tack, and very energetic. . .unlike:
Joe Biden. Hahaha! He's the Weekend At Bernie's candidate. I actually felt sorry for this old fraud (he's Elizabeth Warren with a cock) on the debate stage. All stammers and frozen stares out from under his cosmetic surgery. If the democrats actually think he could beat Trump, they are woefully self-deluded. What could possibly motivate any normal human being to drag his or her ass to the polling place and stand in a slow-moving line to vote for this dusty throwback candidate? This should be Biden's campaign logo:
Tulsi Gabbard was my personal favorite. Absolutely 100% the best choice to be Commander-in-Chief and run foreign policy, which are really the president's main jobs. Of course, Gabbard is being totally blacked-out by Media (except Tucker Carlson), because she is not a war-monger. Too bad. If you don't want to kill the others and exploit colored labor, *They* will never let you near the White House. If she got anywhere near 10% in the polls, Media would give her the same smearing they gave Pat Buchanan and Ron Paul. Cory Booker is an inverse Pete Buttigieg. . .a bigger fake than Warren. What would Booker have thought of his hidden faggot self if they had put him on the same debate stage as the unafraid Buttigieg? Buttigieg was the most admirable of all, for refusing to bullshit about the white killer cop in his shitty Indiana town. Black folk who hold that against him are just holding themselves back. Absolute stupidity to punish decent, honest white folks because they can't cure racism overnight. So go ahead and vote for another mulatto sell-out and keep working for 10 bucks an hour and gittin' yo ass thrown in jail for drivin witta spended license. . .
Most of the others were total zeroes. . .no personality, no ideas. . .that kOOk Marianne Williamson was far better than those robot politicians.
Sickening to see them all bow before the abortion altar. . .which that AI politician Kirsten Gillibrand labels *reproductive rights*. . .serial killers ought to start demanding their *self-actualization rights.* Oh, the Asian nerd Andrew Yang had the single best idea with his $1000 a month handout. . .
WASHINGTON, June 20 (Reuters) - The U.S. military confirmed on Thursday that one of its drones was shot down by Iran but said the incident took place in international airspace, challenging Iran's account that the U.S. aircraft had been flying over Iranian territory. "Iranian reports that the aircraft was over Iran are false," said Navy Captain Bill Urban, a spokesman for the U.S. military's Central Command. "This was an unprovoked attack on a U.S. surveillance asset in international airspace."
The great blowhard Trump's fat mouth has brought him to the precipice. . .
It began in earnest in mid-2015 when he decided to trade *talk is cheap* bluster peppered with self-flattering idiocies for zionist campaign financing:
"I've been doing deals for a long time," Trump told the crowd. "I've been making lots of wonderful deals; that's what I do. Never, ever, ever in my life have I seen any transaction so incompetently negotiated as our deal with Iran."
The flabby old man has talked against Iran like he possesses an Iron Fist for four solid years now. Just days ago the big talker boasted:
Well, now the time is near. . .
The time to shit or get off the pot. . .
One of the few actual achievements of the fraud Obama was his deal with Iran. . .if left in place, this current powder keg would have never materialized. . .
But once the obese hotel manager Trump started shit-talking Iran, he never found a place where he could stop. . .
I suppose back in 2015 Trump figured all his bluster would never have to be backed up. . .
If the roly-poly President Trump backs down, and allows Iran to continue cherry-picking drones, tankers, increasing its enriched-uranium stockpiles, whatever, Trump will be exposed for the gutless buffoon he most assuredly is. He will become his personal worst nightmare: a laughing-stock.
If he submits to the zionist whisperers he stupidly surrounded himself with, and actually tries war with Iran, his re-election goes down in flames far bigger than those of today's RQ-4 Global Hawk.
There is no doubt the Great Satan can blow up half of Iran, and kill tens of thousands of civilians before 2020's election day. . .but there is also no doubt Iran will not surrender, and will, at some point, make mindless pro-war Americans pay a price, and perhaps some zionists, as well. Another endless war to add to America's collection.
And for what point is this war?
When Trump was just a fat-ass bankrupt rich cat, he knew there was no point:
But to enable his presidential folly, he opened his pie-hole and contradicted himself with an endless stream of anti-Persian shit-talking. With this, the lardly Trump revealed his own fate:
Seest thou a man that is hasty in his words? there is more hope of a fool than of him.
Americans are a stupid, thoughtless people, blind to their country's Satanic war crimes. . .we can only hope when their President, a man truly representative, brings the chickens home to roost, they begin the process of making a painful and searching moral inventory. . .but they probably won't. Instead they will enter their default mode: weep and cry *why?* When Trump launches the first airstrikes, there will be such red, white and blue pride and cheer!! As the bombs level Iran and the muslims die, Americans will feel good about themselves, content with their paunchy President teaching the Persians a lesson about American exceptionalism. . . But as the war drags on, and a few body bags return home, anxiety will set in on the xanax nation. . .when will it end?? And when Iran inevitably and successfully brings the war into America, through what offended war supporters will call *cowardly terrorism* (as if that makes American deaths more tragic and more unjustified than muslim deaths delivered from long range missles or bombs dropped from 30000 feet), Americans won't be *woke* and make that desperately needed fearless and searching inventory, but will instead shut down in fear, with their President having to nag them to resume their patriotic duty: shopping. Another ugly chapter of human history awaits. . .all because dumpy Trump couldn't keep his fat mouth shut. As for Trump himself, he'll lose his reelection bid, but maybe he can be comforted knowing Netanyahu thinks he's a great man!
This is why increasing numbers of Americans, particularly young Americans, don't wet themselves when FOX News calls democrats *socialists.* Who gives a shit about *socialism* if Absolute Capitalism is only good for $6.21 a week? Hey, Trump, thanks for the 15 cents an hour raise!! You have to feel bad for all the brainwashed working class Americans who thought, and still think, Trump *fights* for them. Here's who Trump fights for (besides Israel): Trump's tax bill, with its 21% corporate tax rate, was first and foremost a gift to multinationals. They had wanted cuts in the corporate tax rate for foreign and domestic profits for decades. Everything else flowed from that: the tax cuts for smaller businesses known as “pass-throughs”, which had been their holy grail, and the cuts for individuals, which were needed to sell the bill to voters. The second: all the posturing about real “reform” of the tax code and “revenue neutrality” for the legislation was meaningless. In fact, the bill had to create a $1.5tn 10-year deficit to pay for its generous tax cuts. Without the deficit, the corporate rate of 21% could never have been achieved and, more important, the bill could not have passed at all.
The third was that the bill as passed was hugely problematic. It contained egregious mistakes, created massive new loopholes and opened the door to new forms of tax avoidance. Thirteen tax law professors from around the country, in a 68-page study, blasted its “rushed and secretive process” that resulted, they said, “in deeply flawed legislation."
HaHa! Trump fights for *multinationals,* not cashiers, truck drivers, janitors and all the rest of the *deplorables* who think he's making America great again.
I'll never understand why so many millions of white working class American males vote republican. Are they so afraid of colored people, they'll be slaves for the 1% just for the illusion walls are coming to keep them safe?
There's never been a bigger bunch of suckers than white working class males, who consistently bend over and take it in the ass from people who wouldn't nod at them if they ever in a one-in-a-million chance happened to cross paths on the same street. The white working class aren't even house niggers, they don't ever see their Masters! They live in separate worlds. . .and the working class world is getting more and more run-down. . .pot holes, dirty water, crap schools, shitty health care. . .but white males don't care, just so long as republicans nurse their fear of colored people.
But the hand-writing is on the wall. . .young people just don't care about the same shit as the white working class. . .the 1% will loot the last pennies they can from the poor, and then the AOCs and the Omars will inherit the earth, and the Euro-style welfare state will be imported to America. I suppose we'll have to endure more and more domestic terrorism from deranged crybaby vets who thought they were killing colored foreigners to protect the American Way of Life (like Isaiah Peoples) during the change-over, but, as Timothy McVeigh once quoted Thomas Jefferson:
The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. It is its natural manure. . .
CNN, 28 April 2019: During a riff about getting countries around the world to pay more for their own defense, President Trump defended his support for Saudi Arabia. “They buy a lot from us -- $450 billion they buy,” the President said. “You have people wanting to cut off Saudi Arabia. They bought $450 billion. I don’t want to lose them!” he told the crowd.
Yeah, why would we want to *cut off* Saudi Arabia?
Saudi Arabia commits war crimes in Yemen, beheads its dissidents, murders journalists, exploits migrant workers, oppresses women.
But "they buy a lot from us!"
This tells us Trump is a soul-less materialist. Death and misery have a price. If Houthi children in Yemen are bombed and starved, so what? If Saudi dissidents are tortured into *confessing* they are faggots and then beheaded, so what? The Saudis "buy a lot from us!"
My friend, is this really how we Make America Great Again? By selling our souls?
Trump has always been a pitiable and pathetic figure. . .a shameless and insecure blowhard who continually aggrandizes himself. He's also a boor, a crook, a pervert, a draft-dodger and a habitual liar. We can feel sorry for Trump, because he's obviously condemned:
For God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through Him might be saved. He that believeth on Him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God.
Trump is obviously not a *Christian.* His life is a flesh-and-blood contradiction of the Sermon on the Mount.
For a good tree bringeth not forth corrupt fruit; neither doth a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit.
How is someone born again by the Spirit of God not sickened to hear Trump forgive Saudi crimes for an (imaginary) $450 billion?
But they that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition. For the love of money is the root of all evil. . .
We can easily identify Donald Trump with the above scripture. . .surely Trump is a man of many foolish and hurtful lusts, a man drowning in destruction and perdition.
But what of the self-proclaimed *Christians* who stand up for Trump against the gospel? What is it that they love which is drowning them in destruction and perdition? I can only suppose they love America, and view it as God's kingdom on earth, much as damned zionists believe Israel is God's kingdom.
Again, the devil taketh Him up into an exceeding high mountain, and sheweth Him all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them; And saith unto Him, All these things will I give Thee, if Thou wilt fall down and worship me. Then saith Jesus unto him, Get thee hence, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and Him only shalt thou serve.
This is the temptation self-proclaimed *Christians* cannot resist. They want the kingdoms of the world. . .they want the glory of the here and now. They have no knowledge of and/or no faith in the Kingdom of God. They pray in supposed Christian churches for the murders and thefts their troops commit which benefit their kingdom, and imagine themselves doing God service.
There ought to have been a mighty outrage from Christians over Trump's love of Saudi blood money. . .but no. American Christians don't give a shit at what cost their kingdom comes. . .
Who can we liken Trump and the self-proclaimed American Christians to? Who can we compare them to? They are like the filthiest and foulest of the depraved sinners described in Romans 1:
Who knowing the judgment of God, that they which commit such things are worthy of death, not only do the same, but have pleasure in them that do them.
Make America Great Again? By taking blood money? Remember how you loved it, remember all the good things you've had at the expense of others when Jesus keeps His word:
Many will say to Me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Thy name? and in Thy name have cast out devils? and in Thy name done many wonderful works? And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from Me, ye that work iniquity.