Jack Spratt

120927 05:25 4 U

I'm not here for you, me or God. This is simply my journal from which I occasionally tear pages sharing my images; here and there. I have no sense of urgency; what drove Jesus to committed suicide on the Cross. Although His sacrifice and martyrdom was for me for us for posterity magnificent it was done and that's enough. 

My theology, teleology or tango is of no concern to you. You, if you care about life, should learn to simply love yourself as you are . . . as God . . . and as I do. Yet I am ashamed to put my name next to, or near, or even on the same page, book or anywhere near God. Scratch the 'ashamed' replace with humiliated maybe. Or maybe not because to claim humility is a signature of genius and therefore of God. 

I have begged, prostrated, belittled myself forever attempting to gain approval and a right to live when all I ever received was, more-or-less, rejection, abandonment, beating, kicking and all the rest. Yet when I stroll the graveyard at St. Genevieve's and come upon a child's grave I don't kneel and weep as I did leaving Rhode Island beside Sr. Karin Flynn's grave to say 'thank you & goodbye.'

I saw two women, once, tamping down a fresh grave before which was a marker covered with toys. I asked who, what, where, when and why . . . they told me the father &/or mother had beaten the child to death for wetting his/her bed. 

And here, in Las Cruces, New Mexico -- it really is part of The United States of America -- once a part of Mexico but no more. I know a man who is my friend, a good friend, my best friend until I told him I'd never ride in his car! Because he was sold a new iPhone and was telling me about being bored while driving so he did, could and will use it as a diversion. To be fair: he stipulated very strict limits: at night on a deserted interstate, as he did while driving long haul trailer truck all across America.

He was overdosed with Ritalin as a child for annoying his parents. Was he, like me, 'lucky' to not be beaten to death? What is the difference? He is a handsome man turning 68 on October 20th and could run circles around me multidimensionally had he not been mentally mutilated chemically. . . . 

The only reason I have not, at least not yet, run amok completely berserk killing anyone or anything other than myself -- sitting here in my underpants smoking cigarettes -- is that someone, many someone(s) were kind to me. And if I claim to be loved by God I am, as we all are; even the parents and doctor and pharmaceutical company who made the drug etc.

I have no fear and fear not death. For starters, Jesus taught me that, were you asleep during the teaching? Or were you a slave in North Kingstown Rhode Island asleep with the master's horse waiting his/her pleasure the ride back to the manse? I weep now for the simple pleasure of having touched the cup consecrated by a Spratt during Queen Anne's time serving the Blood of Christ in The Old Narragansette Church . . . I digress and should never be allowed access to a computer or The Internet.

Ritalin; for ADHD = Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder 
refract v prism bending light
"religion is society worshiping itself" . . . from my 'personal dictionary' where I look when I cannot get Google's Chrome to look it up for me; why I use it.

. . . The Ritalin Man hasn't spoken to me since I told him I'd not ride with him even if I'd been burnt nearly to death by some other person speaking on a cell phone driving me into the Jersey Barrier or a pile of other folks also being burnt to death from negligence. I've promised him my car at the time of my death; his has 380,000 miles on it. Mine, though eleven years old, paid for, has only 51,000 on it + 30 mpg around town 38 mph highway. 

I make note of days, hours, months, seasons the wobble of the earth moving into the Age of Aquarius etc. I can, but won't, tell you why. You have to figure your own periodicity out. Every minute is sacramental now. I take special note of birthdays, his is the 20th of October, I won't call him, won't send him a card, won't inflict my attention upon him or M or Susan or Annie . . . 

And I won't bother with the Authorities since I tore myself apart for thirty-five years with guilt that I might by: any means or measures in ways unknowable, have caused the death of my daughter, the abandonment by the other daughter or Randy's death. Susan possibly introverted and by nurture or nature silent seems to become more so behind the costume of Priest. 

120927 08:54

I am, at times, seized, by, or with rage; ready to lash out. I have tried to kill myself and failed too many times to not wonder why. I know the rage as the obverse of my passion and compassion, the opposite of empathy . . . at it is at this point the childhood discovery of H. L. Mencken's; . . .they should be put to sleep like mad dogs . . . echoes. 

Was I a victim? yes Did I want to kill my parents or God for the children's absence? yes Did I, Do I, want M to die? No! Do I want to die -- i don't care anymore. If you speak to anyone providing security personally and in trust of non-disclosure, no quote. They will tell you there is no possibility to deter a determined foe. I am not unique. I am a member of the School of Terrorism -- THOUGHT POLICE TAKE NOTICE! -- I am merely an unwanted child born from or by unknowing parents. I am too well versed in The Bible to presume Randy could save the world yet in his death I feel into hell and . . . or so I now believe took Jodi with me. In all probability she will never know me as I am now, nor will her daughter. Nor will Susan. And. . . .not even M can hold me for long from killing myself . . . dare I say, only God can? He couldn't save Jesus. Add to which I am sincerely more concerned with lunatic fundamentalist who might take offense at what I say about HIS BIBLE or HIS KORAN. 

. . . and then I return to the certainty that in Imperial Rome and the KGB they would eradicate forward and backward all who seemed to imperiled the State. The Holy Roman Church is guilty of the same. By deed or behavior it: THE AUTHORITY is stilling doing it to those who are, like I was in life, inconvenient to the authority able and willing to incarcerate, beat to death, burn me alive, eradicate and expunge.

In a sense I compete with God to be least and last making sure that all the living are saved. When M dies the world will have lost a magnificent human being for whom I have no jealousy; since to see her with anyone else is to see grace incarnate. Not, mind you, that I enjoy being a lump or litter on the floor but either or any way it is a joy for me to see her 'work.' I am merely a witness of God becoming more so hourly: a witness for God. 

With that I will close reminding you that you can only change your perceptions and know peace. Bliss beyond the providence of medicine, licit/illicit drugs . . . I would rather, like the religious and civilians of Tibet burn myself alive than thwart her powers. Beware of 'bad Karma' as The Dalai Lama said in regard to China's incursions into that place.

© 2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved

“If what Proust says is true, that happiness is the absence of fever, then I will never know happiness. For I am possessed by a fever for knowledge, experience, and creation.”

"It takes courage to push yourself to places that you have never been before... to test your limits... to break through barriers. And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” --Anais Nin

“For whatever else the religious life may be, it is the fountain of self-knowledge and disillusion, the safest form of psychoanalysis.” --C. S. LEWIS