Copper Chronicles

Among things in our culture that make no sense – things I mentioned that were ‘programmed’ into our thinking since birth (like buying all our major possessions with debt), there is this saying: “If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.”

I don’t know where that comes from but I seems to working with Lyle, the Lion, living in my bunker. When I see him, I “Roooaaarrr!!”

It must be lonely living in a land where no one knows your language, when you are thereby rendered mute. I think Lyle likes my greeting. He seems to enjoy the sentiment that I appreciate his lion hood. And, show Him due respect.

This reminds me of the verb “to know.” There is discussion about the biblical meaning of “to know.” But this is not quite that. Now that I speak he lion’s language, we can more easily understand each other.

Imagine NOT having a common language to communicate with your close relations? Close relations can be maddening as it is…Imagine there is no hope of understanding one another?

That would be rather coarse, rough, I mean. Arduous, exhausting. ‘Defeating any united purpose we may endeavor. That’s what the world seems like now, lots of people misunderstanding one another. It feels like being stuck in a crowded ocean full of frustrated people- an ocean with no tide.

Fortunately, Lyle and I have come to terms with our shared experience. I am not Lyle’s owner, I decided. Ownership suggests subjugation. Lyle is his own master. He comes and goes and knows and does His lion things. I am a guest in Lyle’s life, a companion. Unless our purposes no longer agree, then, the lion is free.

“It’s nice to have a lion,” I confessed in an earlier post. I think the correct expression is, “to know.” It’s nice to ‘know’ a lion.

It’d be nice to be free like a lion, too. Now that I think of it…

Roooaaarrr!!

It’s possible I have failed to sufficiently “count the cost” of carrying a delightfully sweet, fun, small stray cat to my new home. Lyle started off as “Lily,” because of his/her slender stature. She was small because she was young. I mean, he was small. But, that is not the case anymore.

When I say Lyle is a “lion,” I mean sideways too he’s lyin’, as in lyin’ on the floor of my small apartment. It’s more like bomb shelter, really, the kind families dig in their back yard for tornadoes and winter storage. I have everything I may possibly need, I believe, in my basement burrow. So, in that way it is quite luxurious. And I have Lyle, my Lion.

He IS a lion. He’s growing into the biggest cat I have ever seen! I think he is a cross between a domestic cat and a wildcat. Has someone been doing cross-breeding experiments in Northfield?? Lyle, does do his cat duties effectively. I haven’t seen a creature stir in the building since we both arrived. He has that casual, calm, way of sauntering around the neighborhood as if to say, “I am King here, let there be no mistake. This is my domain. Let every scavenging ne’er-do-well that tries to breech my burrow be put on notice!”

I could’ve used Lyle when the rats breached the hen compound last year, and nearly collapsed the whole thing with their tunnels. It’s nice to have a lion. But, when Lyle lays on the floor in the bomb shelter, he makes it hard to get around. He doesn’t move, or seem all that concerned that I am walking (or trying) to negotiate our shared space. Nerves of steel, apparently, also an admirable quality.

It’s not clear who decides what time to get up in the morning which concerns me. I can’t really negotiate with a lion. Like the hens, Lyle lives in his own frequency. He has his own language and built in rules and expectations. The Lion has a say, I decided, because he does contribute to the household. He’s not like one of those cats that just lays around all day and DOESN’T contribute, in which case he’d be out on his cat-ass. Even if I needed a pistol and whip to get him out.

Lyle, the Lion King. What exactly does that make me in the shared space of our small abode??

If you are new to Copper Chronicles, a rehash is in order. The quest for happiness began when I bought four hens in a box. Brought them home. Then, labored diligently to be an effective manager.

It turned out, hens possessed ‘built-in’ features that enabled them to thrive. But, my job was to study and gauge the environmental factors threatening their existence (which were many).

So, the questions began. And answers to those questions emerged.

It may seem odd to ask the universe a question, and get a reply. But, what can account for the existence of answers to all my questions? They are forthcoming in my own language and in a way I can understand and accept. And, they make perfect sense.

The universe can’t be an inanimate object. There must be a being, who is like me sufficiently enough to understand me. And care. And can speak to me in enough detail to satisfy all my questions. (There’s lots.) The being is very patient. He seems to like me.

I think it must be Jesus, because He is the only deity claiming to know me, and love me. And be satisfactorily knowledgeable about the universe and how it works (having claimed to create it.) I haven’t asked a single question yet, that there was no answer given.

What but love would motivate a universal “Knower” to tell me things. But, for the benefit of my own well-being? There’s lots of people who claim to know things. But, they don’t love me. I know they don’t love me because they make absurd claims. When they say things that don’t make sense and I look at them disapprovingly, they sort of vanish like a wisp in the wind.

Copper, my hen friend, and mother hen of the group had good instincts. That was part of her charm! She was delightful and shimmered in the sun. She loved her friends and served them diligently. She was built with good stuff, you may say.

I guess, I was built with good stuff, too, although slightly different then Copper’s unique capabilities. I must of got a good “Bullsh*t-O-Meter.”

This is great! Jesus is funny!!

There’s a kingdom coming, of that I am sure. I am keeping my eyes out because what sort of kingdom comes, apparently we have a right to say. It’s not clear where that right comes from? Perhaps its that “inner voice.” The Conscience. (But where does that come from?)

It’s odd to be both the small child asking questions and the exasperated parent who can’t keep up with the non-stop inquiry. I annoy Myself sometimes. My head is exploding in multiple dimensions. It’s not the medical condition called “Head Explosion Syndrome.” It’s more like, I’ve been confined to a narrowly defined reality. Then, the Truman Show ‘stage’ that I thought was real… starts falling away.

The Wizard behind the magical story of “Oz” is exposed (spoiler alert: not actually a wizard). You know, that you know, that you know that 2 + 2 = 4 no matter how many men claim they can have babies. (Oops. Did I say that out loud?) It’s like when people say they love you. But really mean, “I love you until it becomes difficult. Then I don’t love you anymore.”

So, there’s lies we are told (and sometimes tell ourselves because its what we want to believe). Then there’s the greater reality which does not fall apart under careful scrutiny.

There are people who love you and prove it regularly by their kindness. There is truth shrouded by that toxic smoke I talked about yesterday in “Where’s the Manna?” The smog of lies we’re told is so that we will serve the Abominable Agenda, too. So we will blunder around in darkness, spiritless, and powerless.

But I choose not to. I defy the Lie today. I want a Kingdom to Come that is not what we see in this man-made reality- which is quickly becoming a horror show. I want a kingdom that is possible because of the greater truth that exists beyond the stage of this mad world.

Defy the Lie!

There seems a close relation between these three things- I suspect we are all talking about the same thing only using different words. Sort of like someone confused our language so we don’t understand one another.

Like, I say “beast.” And you say: “There’s no such thing as beasts.” My mother bursts in telling me stop using the word “like.” I say, “The word ‘like’ is for making metaphors. People have been comparing this thing to be similar to that thing for ages. It’s a perfectly legitimate grammatical expression,” I say.

She breathes fire🔥. She’s irate because I sound like a Valley Girl. (Remember the Eighties? Big hair and gum chewing? Give it time, you’ll get it.)

See? ‘Beasts’ one and all. It’s not a question of whether there are beasts or not. I am a beast occasionally when I don’t eat. Don’t stand between me and my lunch.

So, the ‘beast’ that is part of our universal language means: chaos, confusion, terror. Breathing fire 🔥 Whether that’s hell and damnation preachers or leftist activists who are very angry. 🔥The witch in the woods who eats naughty children🔥 Or, the mythical, man-animal that tried to boil the Apostle John.

I say “beast.” You say “conspiracy theory.” There is something confusing, scary, and terrible happening in the world. To what else shall we attribute this phenomenon?

It makes sense to me now- if there is a mythical, beast-like power at work in the world (what all cultures before our own essentially believed), then listening to stupid music lyrics (like from my generation) is a great way of terrorizing people.

I looked, and looked for meaning in the language and words these ‘artists’ muttered and spewed irreverently with their tongue sticking out. “I am a creature of hell,” they avowed most agonizingly. And, looked very convincing. There’s no such thing as monsters- I’d hear parents say on television, while turning the channel to MTV.

Yes, there are beasts! It is we, ourselves! Bred for the purposes of hell by Hell itself! Of course, nonsensical messages delivered alongside beating drums and mixed messages in the media make crazy.

When I looked at my childhood public school papers there were two emerging themes: “Me,” and Scary Halloween faces. That’s it. Halloween is the only American holiday that actually remains in tact in the public school system. Seriously??

Yes, there’s monsters. Now about that pact with the Almighty…If your not convinced this is so, who exactly are the monsters mocking and jeering at?? If there is “Irreverence,” then there must also be “Reverence.”

Irreverence is then only a negation of reverence- the refusal to honor One who is Worthy.

Halloween is coming. Sorry, I am not handing out any candy.

Sometimes turning something upside-down and inside-out is how you make a thing ‘right’ again. Sort of like when laundry gets tangled up in the washer machine. Or ships get crushed by continuing ocean waves they were not designed to endure.

This phenomenon of the Great Washing Machine ‘righting’ the wrongs of the world may spark interest in conspiracy theorists. And well it should. Whether the chaos in “planned” or happening just by chance, we do want to untangle our wash and ‘right’ our personal ships. I hope.

Chaos is a monster. That is why ancient myths depict terrifying beasts with god-like power wreaking havoc on their villages. I think to defy this human habit of myth making, the social engineers decided to “engineer-out” superstitions of god-like beings and taught people to believe in themselves instead. Knowledge, Science, and the Power of Self is what twentieth century thinkers believed in.

Nietzsche’s super-humans will save us from the fear and chaos inherent in human existence, they postulated. Not mythical beings. Not God as understood for most centuries before our own. We will be our own gods, they Imagined.

I don’t think it is working with all due respect to Ubermans out there…

So, what we know about our existence is their is chaos-to be sure. And One can’t be an uberman truly- in my opinion, unless he does the hard work of meeting this reality with a bit of humility. Is it possible we as Americans have over emphasized our own ability to create one, big, happy global family?

How many wars in oversees nations do we need to fight before we get the idea that everyone does not define “family’ the same way?? We’ve been told from birth we are at War! A War on this… a war on that! A War on Poverty, a War on disease! The Righteous Indignation is furious like someone else I know in history and wish I didn’t.

If a war is necessary to impose our values on the rest of the world, perhaps the Ubermen will admit they are not gods (small g) after all?? Perhaps a moment of truth is required? That they themselves have become as chaotic and deranged as any other mythical beast terrorizing the world?