Thursday, March 31, 2011


Yes, I can see why people are wondering why Miriam is so smug over there pretending to be better than us. I don't know why. I don't see any reason for her to cop such an attitude really. I mean ice cream vendors have their opinions, too. I don't know much about it.

I don't think her husband could possibly be that guy that Margot set me up with that time on a blind date. There is no way that those could be the same people, not that I would recognize those guys if I ever saw them again. It was a dark night. I don't remember much, just driving around town.


Yes, it goes all the way back to ninth grade in Miss Fran Marken's honors English class when Lance Starin gave his report on Greek mythology. He talked about the various trysts of the Greek gods and godesses, Jupiter and all those guys, and hypothesized that these mythological tales were the precursors to the story of Jesus and his birth of the Virgin Mary. Lance went on to hypothesize that the truth was probably something like Mary had gotten in trouble, been raped or also just been fooling around with her boyfriend, and the parents, in order to cover up the truth, had concocted some farce about her being a virgin when the "angel" appeared to her, rip snort, chuckle chuckle. So that is the type of anti-Christian garbage being thrown around by that particular clique of American losers at high school. It was very shocking to me to hear him say that. I cannot be associated with that. Obviously Lance is a complete pagan and not someone to talk to even if he was sort of way cool and plays guitar, at least in my opinion. After all, if you cannot believe in the Virgin birth then Christianity doesn't mean very much, now does it? If Jesus was just another guy, just another teacher on the high school staff, then Christianity is only one of several competing philosophies all flowing around the ying and yang of things, the endless struggle between darkness and light. So why don't you just move to Babylon and become a Zoroastrian? Lots of pagans are good people, too. But it is not about whether we are good or not. It is about Jesus and who he said he was. Jesus said, "I am the way, the truth and the life. No man comes to the Father but by me."

High School

Yes, I remember after high school talking about how I regretted not being able to witness to my classmates. They are so lost in sin and yet much too proud to ever admit they don't know much of anything, or at least nothing useful. Their heads are filled with silly garbage and they do not have a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ the Savior. They know nothing at all about me and my family. Most of the time they are just guessing. But do you think that I would be able witness to them or tell them anything at all? No, it is impossible. They despise me and treat me like garbage most of the time. It is very dangerous to talk about anything personal with these people. It is just not possible.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Dead Men Walking

Someone said that my great-grandfather when he was a missionary in China once prayed over a dead man who came back to life. My great-grandfather was a very early Pentecostal missionary who was not highly educated in terms of theology being that he was a butcher by trade, but he had received the Baptism of the Holy Spirit at Azusa Street and had felt called to ministry. In those days early Pentecostals were much disdained and maligned by the intelligentsia as lowly boors and ignoramuses. These negative stereotypes of Pentecostals are very common even if unfair and prejudiced, not that I know very much about this. Interesting how even today people can be so scrupulous about being fair to Indians and Latins and yet show such contempt for Pentecostals who believe in signs and wonders, as if there were something unbearably naive about believing in the Virgin Birth. If God can do anything, then why doesn't he? We just don't know. God says to us, "My thoughts are not your thoughts." Thus we have these Southern Baptists sneering and looking down their noses at us for believing in miracles. And yet God often does honor the faith of those who sincerely pray in faith believing. Still, these prejudices against us make us want to avoid the word "Pentecostal" like the plague because, well, lots of people don't seem to know what it really means and, well, sometimes the word gets attached to things that don't really represent what we actually believe or should believe. But even for all the "mistakes," perhaps, of those early years, although I don't know a lot about this, the Pentecostals did have a profound impact on religion in America and all over the world. All the Greek and Latin skills and knowledge of centuries could not provide the power that came down from heaven. Not that there is anything wrong with education necessarily. Education is good. Education has its place but it doesn't make up for a lack of anointing.


I have no connection to Japan. I was not made in Japan for sure. When I think of Japan I think mainly of the fact that one of our classmates was Japanese, Yasushi Takeda. Does he still work at the White House press corp in Washington D.C.? I have no idea. I never even talked to him in high school. He was just there in class of course except for those times that he went back to Japan and then came back. I don't know anything about Japan. I just see the pictures on TV like everybody else.


Yes, if we were all such spiritual missionary families why didn't we all just stand around and pray for Aubrey Lampp to be brought back from the dead? I don't know. Anything is possible with the prayer of faith believing. But for some reason I do not remember whether anyone stopped to pray for Aubrey. It was all just a matter of CPR or mouth-to-mouth resucitation as far as I can recall. But sometimes people have been raised from the dead by prayer. Just think of Lazarus in the New Testament and also that boy and his mother. Other missionaries of the past have prayed for the dead to rise as a sign to unbelievers. Sure, it could have happened that way but didn't. Perhaps the super-spiritual missionaries of Panama could have done better. They would have just prayed and all would have been made right because they are so ministry oriented. But we perhaps cannot hold a candle to that. Anyway, it wasn't supposed to happen that way. The Lampps were supposed to outshine us but they didn't have a chance to do very much. Still, the Florida district is in charge of the roasting of us and so who can fight with that? Not I.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Dog training

Yes, there is a certain philosophy which speaks of putting your dog's nose in it accompanied by a little swat so as to train them not to do it in the house. But there is a limit to the effectiveness of such behavioral manipulation. There is always a danger that some dogs might not get it. Other dogs will feel so utterly humiliated that they will start acting abused and skulk around. Fortunately for me I don't have a dog to train so it is not my problem. However, I definitely can say that if I had a daughter there would be some things I would not do the way my mother did. I would not have a maid and so my children would have to do all their own chores and learn responsibility a lot younger than I did. I wish my parents had been stricter about certain things but they weren't so I can't go back and do that over again. My mother is not really such a perfect mother as you might imagine but having a maid really makes it a lot more complicated than you might imagine. I wouldn't want to do that to my children. Having a maid is not really a good thing and while it was considered necessary down there it is not required up here. I am the person in charge of my life now. So maybe the maid deserved a pay raise but at the time it was not my decision to make. Now that it is I would rather keep the money thank you very much.


The death of Aubrey Lampp made Fran a very wealthy widow. He had taken out a very generous life insurance policy before going to the field as a missionary. Fran later remarried but apparently the second husband frittered away most of the money and then committed suicide, or at least that is what I think I heard on the grapevine. Fran is not that wealthy now. We don't know anything about her now. We just never hear about them anymore. There is no reason to stay in touch with them. Especially not now. After all, Fran was not very happy with my parents. In the days immediately after Aubrey died, while arrangements were being made to have his body flown to the U.S. for the funeral in Panama City, a lot of people were hanging out at the mission house trying to be helpful. My parents were over there and Fran later made it known that she was very disturbed about my mother asking too many questions about the funeral arrangements. Also, when one local pastor came to the door to pay his respects to the widow, my parents answered the door and told him that she was sleeping and could not meet with him at that moment and asked him to maybe come back later. Fran later made it known that she was always available to receive the people and that she would have been willing to come out and meet with him and that it was very presumptuous of my parents to turn the pastor away. Apparently, the pastor had felt very belittled at being turned away, as if the pastors were not the real family and the missionaries the pretenders to be turned away. So it was a big mess to put it mildly.

Monday, March 28, 2011


pAubrey Lampp was a missionary who died very young, after only about a year in El Salvador, during a missionary outing at the beach. I remember it well. We were all there at the beach and using pillow cases inflated to ride the waves. The pillow case thing was my Dad's idea. Aubrey was caught in an undertow and died. They pulled him out of the water and tried to resucitate him but it was too late. He was dead and starting to turn blue. I remember being called on to carry water to them walking on the burning sand. I felt guilty for complaining about the hot sand burning my feet, Henry heard me say it, but it didn't matter. His body was taken to a hospital in nearby Ahuachapán but it was no use. This all happened the summer before my senior year of high school. After Aubrey died his widow Fran Lamp and their two daughters continued to live in the mission house for another year or two until they returned to the U.S. Fran's sister Shirley and her husband Henry Kinsey had come from the U.S. and they ended up staying there and adopting children and still live there to this day I think operating a school or something. They are from Panama City, Florida. We seem to have lost touch with them. We don't really know what they are up to now. When we first moved to Florida we stopped in Panama City to visit but we have not seen them since. We heard that Fran remarried once or twice but we don't know anything that is not already on the grapevine in that regard. Just dial the grapevine and they will tell you all about it, all about how Henry continues to despise us and punish us for that. Anyway, I remember mentioning this to someone at high school in the fall. And how was your summer? Well....

If only

Yes, there clearly have been times when I was guilty of not working. I certainly cannot say that I am an innocent on that point. However, time keeps running on and I cannot turn back the clock to redo all those things that I did not do right the first time. It is just the way it was. If only this... If only that... So many things I could have done better but didn't. So many things I should not have done but did. If only, if only, if only. All these "if onlys" just make me feel hopelessly guilty and unable to rise above any circumstances ever. My mother used to always say "if only" and then I would just feel hopelessly guilty and lost without hope. If only. Yes, I am guilty of being a sinner and I have faith in Christ for salvation but still there is "if only." My life spun out of control long before I can remember so there is nothing I can do about that, not really any remedies to make everything right. It is just the way it was.


Yes, isn't it amazing the colossal pity party that Max has organized for himself? Max was able to turn a beautiful day of scenic wonders into a nightmarish horror story with a lot of help from Bobby and Noel. I have not one ounce of sympathy left for those stupid guys. I am not even guilty, at least not of that, so there is no reason for me to apologize to Max. He wasn't born in Chile. In fact, none of those guys was from Chile so there was no reason to get so hysterical. They are just sick.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

The Meaning Of "It"

Oh, did I make some comment about feeling like an "it" to someone, maybe Dauna or Sue? I don't remember. I don't remember even what it meant but I remember someone else previously sharing that with me so I guess I was just mindlessly passing it along. This is not really what it meant but of course when everyone adds something else to it it no longer means anything anymore does it? Hope you enjoyed it because I didn't.


My mother bought a very fancy dress to wear to a luncheon meeting with Aunt Lois. It was so fancy that Lois Bueno made some scathing comments to my mother about her being too uppity or something, as if Lois were not the ultimate in nasty uppity-ness, at least to us. These Latins treat us like their slave labor because they are taking their cues from the Buenos who treat us as if we were some inferior race suited only to be their nannies and gardeners and translators. We don't mind helping sometimes but we also have lives. We were not created to be slave labor to the Latin Race. We were supposed to come back to the U.S. and get on with our lives and find new friends in college but somehow we got sidetracked and can't seem to get out of this pit. I am not sure how you expect me to make a positive confession when I always seem to get the flip side of whatever I want not that it matters. It is just that you tell me to have faith and then in the next breath you beat the tar out of me so you are not being consistent. If I ask for bread you will give me a stone and if I ask for meat you will most likely give me a scorpion. So go figure!


Yes, once when I was over at Vida I borrowed a couple of books from their library. They have hundreds of books there that are never going to be translated into Spanish. They just have them there for people to borrow, a library of sorts. I know this because I once worked there. Those are ancient Christian books that are out of print and nobody cares about reading anymore. They even have a copy of Jan Crouch's autobiography. I was going to take them back but perhaps I was a bit late. I should have said something. Nevertheless, planning to take them back eventually. Maybe someday I will even mail back that book with Sandra's name on it. I don't remember how that happened. She loaned it to me because I had not had a chance to get to the bookstore when we were doing the work on it, but all of the other books are mine bought and paid for thank you very much. I hope this is not a problem for someone.

Laurie Way

Yes, I remember that during my first or second year at SCC some girls were driving on Sunday mornings to church at Dana Point Calvary Chapel. It was a beautiful drive, passing along beautiful morning scenery of ocean waves lapping on the coast of Laguna Beach, so maybe for that reason it seemed worth the long drive even though Calvary Chapel services were so boring, so dead, so spiritless. It is like a church of the "frozen chosen" to borrow that phrase from Mario Murillo. You walk in the door and they hand you a menu as if church were a restaurant. Already written out is everything that you are going to do, sit, stand, sing, pray, etc. There was no spontaneous "serendipity" when it comes to Calvary Chapel services. Among those who were doing the Dana Point drive was Laurie Way. Maybe that is how she came to invite me to spend Easter Week with her up in San Jose. I did have a very nice time. We also spent a couple of days at Yosemite with some other people and I met that guy who made a mockery of Disneyland, and it's not like he did not have a point. Also I remember borrowing a book and spent some time reading L'Abri, Edith Schaeffer's book about that place in Switzerland. Interesting read but doubt that I could ever afford to go there, and anyway I am not the kind of haughty rich intellectual they are targeting. I already know Christ so I don't need that. I remember overhearing Laurie talking to her mother about the hypocrisy of some people at SCC, and it is not like she did not have a point. There is plenty of hypocrisy on pretty much any Christian college campus and perhaps the ratio was higher than average at ours especially if you lend too much importance to some wealthy creeps who don't really have their acts together but drive fancy cars as for example Ken Bertwell. Through the years I seem to have lost touch with Laurie. All I know is she married Al Moore and was homeschooling her six kids. But it is easy for these rich people like Laurie Way to succeed in life. They have all the advantages and MKs like me just never get a break so after a while it just seems hypocritical to even try to pretend to be friends with them when, after all, we cannot reciprocate in kind. They have all the money and if I tried to remain friends with them I would feel like a charity case. Better to just find my own way, thanks anyway.

Saturday, March 26, 2011


Yes, I vaguely remember the year I was at Evangel going with some girls on my floor to the Triplett house out in the country outside of Springfield to visit with Mark Triplett. I am not sure why we did that. Someone on our floor was in a class with him or something. I don't remember. At that time Mark was sort of redneck looking with longish hair and wearing jeans and driving a Corvette. We squeezed into his Corvette, me in the back seat and Mark rolled down the windows and sped along the highway to show off his roaring turbo engine. That is about all I remember. Maybe Jeanette was there, too, or else I met her at MK retreat, I am not sure. How many of us were there in the car Mark? Fortunately for us not that many, less than ten, not so many as to challenge his math skills. Well, that was a cheap dig but not any cheaper than what they throw at me all the time so whatever.


Yes, I remember at MK retreat meeting Jim Mazurek. He was a camp leader and it also happens that he was in my small group. He later married a Chilean woman, a professional singer, who I know nothing about. I remember one time Lois Bueno was at our house and she was rattling on about all of their marital problems but I guess they eventually patched things up and got back together again, not that I would care to get back in touch with boring Jim Mazurek. No need for Lois Bueno to make some snarky remark about that. Even less would I care to get in touch with horrid witch Lois, always so weird it makes you crazy. You cannot these people too seriously or you will forget who you really are.

Why So Defensive?

I was only being sarcastic, obviously, when I said that about doing something bad in order to be good. I was just being sarcastic because sometimes, well, it looks that way even though not really. Sometimes it seems like those who do good, such as me, are not rewarded for anything while those who do bad get all the goods which by definition makes them the thieves in this picture. It would just be an illusion if I did bad just to get success. I would not really want to do what they have to do to be famous. The price is too high in terms of personal relationship with Jesus. I am just never going to do that. Satan always appears as an angel of light, always beckoning with promises of success and pleasure but, really, I am fine here in my little place in life. Never again will I make this sarcastic remark in the presence of such stupid people. They just don't get it. If you are going to get so defensive about this then maybe you are hiding something, a life of crime perhaps. Or maybe you really should be committed to a mental hospital because I was only making a certain point. It wasn't meant to be taken that seriously.


For those who do not know, Barbara was that single lady missionary who came to El Salvador during the 1970s and was there for several months. While she was there she and that other lady who lived with her parked their trailer over on the other side of the tabernacle not far from the football field on land owned by the AG. Although they did spend some time traveling around ministering at churches there the missionary fellowship did not invite them to officially join their ranks. I only saw them maybe once when my mother and I drove over there to drop something off and they poked their heads out of the trailer. That is all I know about them. I only know what my mother said, that the parents at the school did not want them to teach their children, not that they were planning to teach there anyway. I am not so sure about that. I only know that they were later in Venezuela and other parts of Latin America and things did not go well for them in other places also, perhaps even worse in South America, but I don't know anything about that. Even if you asked me I could not explain it because no one has ever clearly explained what their problem was with Barbara. They just didn't like her I guess. Sometimes that happens. Nobody liked Barbara for some reason. I don't know why.

Friday, March 25, 2011


Yes, I never did like Quique and his obnoxious joke, always regaling me with songs about Dulcinea from the movie "Don Quijote" and all because my name sort of translates, if you spell it with a "y" or else just hear it phonetically, as dulce in Spanish from which the name Dulcinea derives. Dulcinea was the barmaid in the book that we read in high school Spanish lit class although we did not get around to the final section, only the first part of the book in which the elderly gentleman, whimsically imagining himself a knight of olden times, courts the beautiful Lady of the court who is actually just the barmaid at the inn where he is staying with his sidekick Sancho Panza. I do not need any more Quiques in my life, always sing-songing their fakiness whilst stabbing me in the back. I am not the slightest bit interested in stopping to talk to Quique or continuing any relationship with him after high school. I wish he would stop pestering me. It was pure coincidence I suppose that he always seemed to be lurking nearby. Really Barbara looks a lot more like the actress Sophia Loren who played the character in the movie but she also might not appreciate the nuisance. I am not sure whether she would understand. I cannot speak for her. It was really not that funny to me. Just because Quique has bucket loads of money, that does not mean that I would have ever consider accepting a date with him in high school. My life is not there. My future is elsewhere, mainly in the United States where all my family for whatever it is worth resides. I am never going to go back there. I will not be staying there. The missionary system that I knew is no longer in existence and whatever is to come I know nothing of. I only know that my future is back Home in the U.S. so I cannot stay there for long. It was only temporary.

TV Room

Yes, one time we were at the mission house visiting (Fran Lamp and her daughters lived there at the time) and my mom was busy doing something so I went to the TV room (formerly Cheryl's bedroom) to see about watching TV with Coretha and Andrea but maybe they weren't there, perhaps already gone to bed, but the TV was on so I went in and flipped the channel and watched a few minutes and then left. I don't remember anyone being in there although it was a little bit dark. Someone later made some bizarre comment about this, as if I would have barged into someone's bedroom, but that is so off the wall. Maybe the maid would go in there to vacuum the floor but it is not like I would ever do that.

Thursday, March 24, 2011


In case everyone has forgotten, it was Christina who was always whining to her boyfriend Bill about her womanly clock ticking late and trying to rush him into getting married so she could start having children. But I never did that. You see, I am not Italian so I am not a whiner. Italians tend do that, or at least Christina does. They whine and complain about every little thing. We all overheard Christina's shrill whining. But like my mother always told me, I am to be a stoic and keep a stiff upper lip so to speak, never show emotions so that people will not know what I am thinking and feeling because, well, if they know what you are thinking and feeling they can just bounce you off like yesterday's garbage. So never show emotions even if nothing ever works out and the sky falls in and the earth is blown to smithereens and no children will ever be forthcoming as there are no guarantees in life anyway. Nothing is guaranteed. Just never show your emotions. Smile and say goodbye to these ghostly apparitions because I am just never going to discuss it with them. Some things are just nobody's business. I am just never going to discuss certain personal things with anyone, I don't care if you are the queen of anything, you are not the queen of me. Are you a counselor? Even less can you be trusted.

Also, I never had a boyfriend named Bill so it would not be something to discuss with a total stranger and that is what Bill was to me actually, just a stranger.


Yes, if only I had a dramatic testimony that really knocked people's socks off. If so, then anything I did would rise to the top of the charts of Christendom. It would be such an amazing testimony of God's grace that He was able to pull disgusting riffraff me from the depths of the abyss, from the death throes of some gripping sin, and make something out of this life of nothingness, a shining witness to all of the world. After all it is only by the word of my testimony that I could ever be promoted, said Pastor Max. This means that I must think of some very dramatic sin that would be worthy of a riveting cliffhanger of a book. Then perhaps people would actually stop and listen to me talk about the years I spent in prison or sleeping in gutters. I would have to completely turn away from God and kill people or be a drug dealer or something really bad like that to get everyone's attention. Hey, it works for lots of other people. Just click on the remote control and look at all those pathetically bad sinful people yapping away about God's grace and hawking their textbooks on how to be bad guys turned good. The Teen Challenge mode of thinking means that only new converts previously depraved can be leaders in the church whereas persons like me who were raised in the church cannot be promoted because we really have no testimonies, nothing dramatic to say about what God means to me. Nothing good ever happens to me. Just more of the same. Ho hum! Yes, I remember discussing this point. It gets sort of annoying at times that we must sit on the sidelines watching the Teen Challenge ex-con leadership dish out their pablum and formulas as best they can. But truth be told, I just don't have anything all that unusual to tell. My testimony always seems to put everyone to sleep. Churches are full of people who have done worse than me, lots worse in some ways. Anyway, I am not saying that they are all that bad. I am just saying that I want more from church than just superficiality and the milk of the Word. I am saved. So now what? There has to be more than just salvation. This can't be all there is. Where's the beef?

Re: The Frog

Yes, I should have known better than to obey my Dad. We were on the shores of maybe Lake Arrowhead or Big Bear, one of those lakes, and my Dad was trying to show me how you can throw flat rocks a certain way so that they skip across the water but mine only went kerplunk. And then we found a little frog, such a cute little frog, all four legs and not just a tadpole, and my Dad told me to go and show it to my mother. So I did. Trouble was that my mother was in a ladies' prayer retreat meeting which is where I found her. She looked up and I showed her the frog I was holding and she screamed and it broke up the whole meeting. I am not sure why, actually. It really was a cute little frog, but they did not seem to appreciate it. Sometimes those people are just too weird for me to understand. It actually doesn't take much to break up those people, just a little frog.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Jeff 2

I really don't care whether Jeff thinks he is the King of Spain. Yes, that was nice of Jeff to introduce me to his sister Christina and it was nice of him to tell me to call him sometime in case I need anything or something like that. I think he even gave me his phone number but I never did call Jeff. There was something smarmy about his weird way of saying these things, as if he were only pretending. It is like make-believe with these guys. You cannot take them too seriously or the illusion of friendliness will suddenly vanish. They are very busy getting their lives together and one cannot really blame them for that. They say that they are going to have you over to their house for dinner sometime to talk about things but they never say when. It is always someday, somewhere, somehow. Maybe they are talking about the resurrection of the dead, when at the Marriage Supper of the Lamb we will all gather around the table. That will be a nice time then. You cannot pick and choose who will be there. Lots of people you were not expecting will be sitting elbow to elbow at the table. Even Don Triplett might be there although I am not sure what building castles in the sky has to do with preaching the gospel of Christ. But a little peon like me living on the other side of the moat cannot hope to contend with these warrior people who have all the guns, the spears, the armored breastplates, the cannons. Hey, I would be happy with a little cottage at the edge of the woods. Castles have too many rooms that all require vacuuming. There is a limit to how much castle I would be able to handle.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011


That's funny. Why is Jeff sending me all these messages, as if I ever wrote to him? No, I never wrote any letters to Jeff even though he did announce that he would be leaving his address with a certain person and I suppose that the implication was that ifs persons in the audience, myself included, might want to write to him I could ask the other guy for Jeff's address. I never did ask the other guy for Jeff's address because I really was not that interested in staying in touch with weird Jeff. How many insults can a girl take and still care to say hello? Not that many times. No, Jeff is too far over the edge for me so I cannot comprehend why the Clan Campbell has anything to say to me. I think that the Clan Campbell is way out of line. I never did address any envelope to Jeff so he will have no additional opportunities to add insult to injury. But I do hope he gets this message. Because the truth is that I was never all that interested in getting involved in Argentina. Jeff was an MK in Argentina but there is no connection for me. It was only pure coincidence that for a few short months I did work in close proximity to an Argentine lady there in Costa Mesa but then I left that job and I will not be going back there again. You could always ask Susie how Delfina is doing. Susie took over all those relationships so usually after that happens the end result is not good for me. She has a way of making every thing worse than I remembered, even if I was never that perfect.

Cash or Check?

Yes, I vaguely remember years ago when I formerly attended Christian Life Center having a conversation with Bob Bonnano who was talking about the problem of tithing. The Yearys operate on an envelope system. You must put your tithe in the envelope and mark on the outside of the envelope the amount of your tithe or other designated sum and its intended destination. If you do not properly mark your envelope it is quite possible that they will deposit your check and yet not record the amount on your financial records. So if you are not going to mark the envelope it doesn't matter if you use one or not. You can put a check in the offering plate and you can also put cash in the offering plate but either way it won't matter as far as they are concerned. I remember Bob saying that he pays cash only to the offering plate and because of the church rules they were hassling him about that. If he did not pay according to the system he would no longer be allowed to participate in and play guitar for children's ministry. He said that Jack, a church deacon, had given him the ultimatum. Bob refused to comply with church policy and left for Calvary Chapel. So that was his decision. Whatever. I left also but not for that reason. I was paying my tithes calculated to the penny as prescribed. I think that if you are committed to a particular church it is not too much trouble to follow whatever their system might be. However, I was getting tired of feeling like garbage anyway. It doesn't matter whether you tithe or not. Either way you just feel like garbage there. Plus all my conversations seem to be reported back to the Yearys, not that I would say anything all that dangerous, but it gets very tiresome being elected as the pastor's enemy.

Monday, March 21, 2011


Yes, and anyway how did I get attached to Angie? What would she want from me? She wouldn't know Santa Tecla from Santa Ana in El Salvador. She grew up in Venezuela but if she knows my distant relatives, the Hunts, she never mentioned it. We never once ever discussed them, not that I would have even thought to ask about them. I was barely aware of their existence as they never have anything to do with us anyway. Anyway, Angie and I once worked in close proximity at Vida Publishers but only for a short time. I am trying to remember whether she was there full time longer than a summer, maybe just three or four months. After she left, the next secretary to Ed, the vice president of the company, was Patty who later married her boss although by that time I was not there anymore so don't know anything about the wedding. Not that it matters now. Ed and Patty are divorced, Ed having backslidden and gone to work for a New Age company in Viriginia Beach. Yes, sometimes these new converts get promoted too fast too soon, beyond the level of their maturity and cannot handle it. Sad but true.


In high school I wrote a little poem in which I said something about loving Jesus and I said that Jesus "is all that I will ever need." Well, much as I love my Dad, he is not Jesus. My Dad is not Jesus and my Dad is not all that I will ever need. I need a lot more than just my parents although I also cannot live without them. My Dad is only one of many ministers who preach the gospel of Jesus but, nonetheless, as much as I love my Dad yet I know perhaps better than most that my Dad is not Jesus. My Dad cannot do anything to heal me or to work miracles in my life. It is only through the power of Jesus that any good thing can come into my life. Sometimes it is hard being an MK because some people think that if any good thing happens to me it is only because my Dad somehow was behind the scenes pulling strings to get me favors when actually that is not true. My Dad might have written some letters but it doesn't matter. Sometimes I think my Dad might be writing letters that I don't know about asking for stuff that I don't want anyway. It just makes it confusing for me because then I don't know where these people are coming from with all these accusations about stuff. People are just crazy, I think.

Mother's Rules

Yes, so my mother did not have the same rules as your mother, referring to the Butterfield cousins. My mother let me go on the Haunted Mansion ride at Disneyland unlike the Butterfields. My mother let me watch all kinds of TV shows, including "Bewitched" in which the witch twinkles her nose. And did I not as a child wrinkle my nose to express disgust or bewilderment? And are not these signs of my impending adulthood of utter depravity and complete and utter immorality and unholy desecration, not to mention the unpardonable sin which I confess I have sometimes wondered whether was committed by me but then again maybe not because at least I still feel pangs of guilt and remorse, thus indicating the existence yet of a conscience, or at least the remnants thereof? So I find these subterfuges to be utterly rude, personally.
I am not necessarily excusing my mother's inconsistent parenting skills, mixed signals and the like, but do you imagine that you yourself also have not sinned, you holier-than-thou scourges, and done things that I never would have considered, such as blackmail and slander? And do you imagine that my life has borne no fruit even if not visible to your eyes so filled with your own self-importance and conceit? In some cases, we may not know until we get to heaven whether our efforts and plans and ideas have borne any fruit or not. It is conceited and futile to try to number these fruits before their time. What did Jesus get for all his trying? Nothing but a thorn of crowns and a cruel death on a cross. So obviously if Jesus suffered more than anyone can possibly imagine, how small a thing it is for me to suffer a little bit, perhaps to die a pitiless pauper. Perhaps that is the cross that I must bear. Yes, at a Bible study led by Tim Cederblom he asked everyone what it meant to take up your cross. One girl present thought that her cross was her nursing career. When I was asked, my opinion was that it was some kind of personal sacrifice. I did not say this at the time, but perhaps a decision not to drink wine, for example, could be regarded as a cross to bear. Jesus himself told his disciples at the Last Supper that he would not again taste of the vine until the Marriage Supper of the Lamb which does not occur until the end times, after the dead in Christ are raised from their graves and given new bodies. There are many Christians today who imagine that the Marriage Supper of the Lamb is already taking place, that their ghostly apparitions are already tasting the joys of heaven apparently, but I personally think they are wrong, or at least that is what my mother always taught me. Yes, there was a time when whiners like Cori had me all mixed up but then I quit. She asked me to move out but that was after I quit.

Saturday, March 19, 2011


Yes, that was interesting having an editor a card-carrying Communist party member, he knows who he is. Interesting, but I am not going there. Did a good job in cleaning up my copy without too much problem so I have not really a lot of complaints about that. His wife was a fellow reporter. One can learn important lessons from even a Communist editor even if we all usually disagree on certain political matters. These people have their opinions, too, and sometimes are interesting to talk to just to hear different ways of thinking even though, like I said, I don't always agree with them and they often do not agree with me. Nevertheless, I did learn a lot there. Nothing specialized but I did learn a lot of stuff about a lot of stuff.

Party Politics

Now isn't that weird? Why would anyone care about my party affiliations? Who would imagine that someone at work was eavesdropping on my private conversations on the telephone anyway? Obviously, lots of people are all over the place on politics. Just look at Henry Catto, a prominent Republican, whose wife Jessica and daughter Heather, who was in 9th grade with us in El Salvador, are apparently both prominent Democrats. So obviously if people in their family can be on both sides of the fence, it matters not to anyone whether I am a D or an R. I fail to see the point of these inquiries. We have lots of Republicans in our family, just look at Aunt Julia's activities with the Republican woman's club as noted in great-grandmother's diary, but there might be some Democrats, too. I am not sure who they are, although Aunt Cindy definitely voted for Obama, but they are not listed in the diary by political affiliation. Anyway we probably have some of everything. It should not matter to you, anyway. It is not something to discuss with a complete stranger.

Repeat Repeat Repeat

Here is something to put in your ear and repeat forever: I do not have any idea what Mark and Carol thought they were doing. All I know is what Sharon said, which is that they were tapping the phone and recording various telephone conversations, including probably me if I ever happened to talk on the phone for some reason which I have long since forgotten. I have no clue why Carol always was such a nasty witch from Montana. In a millions years I would never call her for piano lessons even though she boasts of her most illustrious piano student on the planet, Debbie Tracy. It is more likely that I would kill myself than ever contact Mark or Carol to find out that they were spying for Paul and Jan. I just do not care. I cannot imagine that they ever found anything on me that matters all that much. So what if I called the Republican Party to see about volunteering but they did not need me? And are these saloon trash McWhiners connected in any way to the Republican Party? I think not. Anyway, it just does not matter now. Those people are just huffing and puffing for some mysterious reason unknown to me.

Friday, March 18, 2011


Yes, who was the receptionist in Fort Lauderdale Hi-Riser office? She was black, very nice, worked part-time at the Broward Times, a black newspaper in the area, and was very friendly with Andy and Mike. I don't remember her name though. Sorry, can't help you with that. She did not stay very long, only a few months, so I just don't remember. So many people come and want.


Yes, it makes me rather angry to be constantly nagged about my weight. I want to lose weight because I want to do so, not because other people keep nagging me, not because I remember Lynn saying that her husband always nagged her about losing weight, not because my Dad has forgotten that he himself is a bigger food addict than me, always raving about this food and that food, etc. etc. No, I want to lose weight because I have decided to do so, not because some cranky old coot on the other side of the wall is grouching about my appetite for pies and cookies. It's hard to even enjoy baking cookies when I know that I will probably end up eating most of the cookies anyway. However, regardless of the Cuban monopoly on sugar markets, there is not much choice when it comes to sugar. The alternative is too bitter to contemplate. Artificial sweeteners have peculiar chemical aftertastes and according to some reports might even make you lose your mind. Perhaps that is your problem. All that aspertame. Really, you should heed the warnings. Practice what you preach.

Ask Susie

Yes, I remember Susie saying something about the people who lived on the other side of the mission house, located on Calla San Antonio Abad. The people next door on the other side from the Bible school were the owners of a local chocolate company there in El Salvador, producers of maybe those chocolate-coated ice cream bars, Estrella Polar, or maybe Popeye chocolate bars. I am not sure, I can't quite remember. Susie said they had a daughter near our age but that they are Jewish so we never had any contact with them. I don't recall ever seeing them. I only remember that Susie mentioned these facts about them. I don't know anything about them and have no clue. Someone was saying something about them, that there was some anger that we were aware of their existence but, hey, what I can say? I cannot help it that Susie told me this. I am not deaf so I heard what she said. I think Susie and Sammy said something about touring the chocolate company but I don't know anything about that. I only know what Susie said. Ask Susie.

Onward Christian Soldiers

Yes, I well remember how at MK school, at night after the school program, while the parents were still inside the radio station building chatting and maybe talking about school business, we children would be outside in the parking lot talking and playing. Sometimes we would line up across the driveway between the Bible Institute and the mission house and march down the entire length of the driveway while singing "Onward Christian Soldiers" and other songs similar to that, as if we were an army campaigning. I am not sure why we did that. I seem to remember it might have been Susie and Sammy's idea. It was something that had already been done before our arrival but I did not have a problem with that. After all, it is better to be singing Christian songs than to be making mischief, I would imagine. I do not know why anyone would complain about that. If that song is controversial to some people, well, yes, there are those people who can make a mountain out of pretty much any little molehill. Nevertheless, I still like the song.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

The Colonel

Yes, we have no clue where my Dad's Aunt Julia, often actually called Aunt Judy by some, found her rich colonel, perhaps some fancy shindig at the marine camp there or whatever. I was very young and do not remember anything about how she dumped her Oklahoma husband to marry the wealthy colonel who provided her with a huge house overlooking the Carlsbad Inlet (estero) and plenty of money to go cruising and traveling and whatever she wanted to do in her old age. So that's nice for them but I don't think our family ever benefited from Aunt Julia's colonel in any way nor did we ever imagine that we would ever get anything from them. It just wouldn't make any sense. My Dad's Aunt Julia, well, she has her four children to take care of and we are not one of them so obviously it means actually nothing much to us. If the colonel had not been there I am sure that the family would still have managed somehow to take care of great-grandmother who lived to age 100. Perhaps she would not have been so dependent on Julia without the colonel around to pay for everything but whatever. We never had a choice in that regard so we have nothing to say about that. Nevertheless, the fact remains that we are not a military family, with a few exceptions of course. We suspect that the colonel probably served in the Pacific side during World War II, judging from the photographs of places that look a lot like Guam that were left mixed in with the family's historical photograph collection. Nevertheless, it should not be assumed that my great-grandfather was ever in China doing military business. He was a missionary obviously, back in the 1910s and 1920s, not a soldier. He was originally a butcher by trade but killing cows is just not the same thing as killing people. There is a certain level of guilt involved in killing people as opposed to killing animals. Well, we do feel sorry for Bambi but, hey, we all like a good steak dinner, too. There is nothing wrong with being a butcher. It is an honest trade and supplies food on the table for many. However, my great-grandfather apparently felt called in some other direction after his Azusa Street experience and eventually they went to China and the rest is history. If you want to go back to butchering cows fine, go head, do it. We all like a good steak dinner, as I have said. However, we are not cows here. We are people and we do not appreciate being herded around as if mindless sheep. We have other ideas than yours. As God has said, my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are my ways your ways.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Cuban Swine

What a joke, vile Cuban swine Nelsa pretending to be honorable. Ha! She is such a piece of low-class trash, so boastful of her redneck Tennessee swine husband, he of the pathetically empty pockets and weirdly pompous pompadour hairsytle. What did she expect from an assistant pastor anyway? There is nothing to be said for such pathetically worthless, underpaid second-class ministers. Nelsa was getting desperate and married whatever she could find, just a redneck Tennessee furniture salesman who later became a children's pastor. But he lacks the talent and maturity to ever be a lead pastor so Nelsa will have to settle for being just another second fiddle wife. Ha ha ha! I have nothing but scorn for that vile Cuban witch Nelsa, may she rot forever in her secret purgatorial habitation. Ha ha ha!


As long as we are wringing stupid necks, let us not forget the wicked Barth brothers. Those vile, low-class swine could not possibly be related to me. I do feel sorry for my grandmother's Uncle Sam, having left such a legacy of worthless sons. How dare they compare my 3-year-old offense to that of their slut-witch sister Renell. There just is no comparison of brilliant me to that unfortunate trash. There is no way that I am going to allow them to drag me down to the level of their swine-sister. Sorry guys but you are out of luck here. We are going to kick your butts forever.


Yes, we see in Louisiana that a certain Jim Woolsey is the director of foreign translation for Jimmy Swaggart Ministries. I do not suppose that their Mr. Woolsey would be in any way related to the Mr. Woolsey who sued my great-grandfather in 1950. Or should I not assume any such thing? Why would this Jim Woolsey even be aware of our existence? I just have no clue about these things. I have no attachment to Louisiana so, really, I think that unless they have something to tell us, there is nothing else to be said about the unfortunate events of 1950. I have never lived in Louisiana so those people have no claim on me. We cannot have this wicked slimey creepy dog Woolsey constantly wreaking havoc behind the scenes of my life. Someone really needs to whack his butt and ship him back to San Francisco to stand trial for what really happened. Thank you.


The truth is that those old drunks Paul and Jan have no claim whatsoever on me. They have no legal claim to me or to anything that I own. Just because I wrote some silly stuff, that does not mean that I ever even talked about them or said anything objectionable or untrue. It wasn't their money. So anyway, they are just huffing and puffing and blowing smoke to distract from their own issues. It has nothing to do with me. It is just all about them.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

New Zealand

Yes, we are not unaware of David Goatley's impassioned defense of Dawn. I really thought that Dawn was somewhat thoughtless and inconsiderate in not agreeing to my request to not giggle throughout the day sitting behind me in class although I did not say it this meanly. It is just that could not Dawn please save the stories for recess rather than expect me to ask her what's so funny all of the time? So David rose to Dawn's defense but I continue to believe that Dawn does not deserve this much defense and honor given her immature behavior and snarky pranks pulled on Miss Nafsker on a continual daily basis, not to mention the continual giggling. It is OK to have funny stories to laugh about but when I am trying to concentrate on my homework it gets very distracting to have giggly Dawn cackling behind my back. David Goatley may have his particular point of view on this matter but his reaction is in my view quite out of proportion to the actual events. Just being a Canadian does not entitle one to run ramshod all over everyone else, in my humble opinion. Ditto to those New Zealanders of MK school, they know who they are, and anyone else who sides with Dawn on this point. There is a limit to how much of this stuff Dawn can get away with but perhaps I am the only person old enough to figure that out. For their sakes we all sang their national anthem but they also must sing our song because I actually was quite right even if they won't admit it.


Yes, I do not understand how my fate got mixed up with that of the Orlando waitress. No one ever caught me drunk, let alone in a drunken rage akin to those drunken sots Paul and Jan. We all have heard the rumor but don't know anything about it. It is not exactly a secret so it is not like I could not repeat the rumor if necessary for purposes of better understanding the truth, except that I don't write for a gossip newspaper so it is not my assignment. Thus, I don't understand what their problem is. Funny how these drunken whiners try to make it look like they got it from me. Not even close.


Oh, was a graduate of Southeastern the waitress who caught Paul and Jan drinking themselves drunk at some restaurant in Orlando? I heard the rumor but I would not know the identity of the waitress, now would I? And why does a college graduate have to wait on tables? And who did she report this to? One never seems to hear what happened to her. Did she not get a reward for turning them in? I just have no clue, but I somehow doubt that she got any prize. People don't really get prizes for being witnesses for the prosecution, but then again it was not about money, now was it? It was about the truth and justice being done, now wasn't it? You cannot really pretend to be so holier-than-thou when you are not playing by the rules, now can you? Spend too much time trying to find some reason to turn me in to the authorities and God just might find a whopper to throw back on your plate. This is not a prophecy, just common sense.

Southeastern Riff Raff

Now isn't that funny, these nasty Southeastern Trailer Trash daring to criticize me. I don't even know who they are mostly but obviously with such a rotten attitude they are a poor witness to the caliber of Southeastern and its dimwitted graduates. Not that I would dare to criticize them, powerless MK that I am, but obviously there is no reason for me to be impressed. Even with teaching credentials, they make such a poor impression with their lack of Christian love and backhanded tactics. Even their Cuban dogs are nothing to boast about. We all know that Cubans have such a thick accent it is hard to understand them. We do not have any problem understanding Central American or Mexican Spanish but Cuban Spanish is almost like a dialect. If we cannot figure out what they are talking about, stuck in a time warp as they are, how can we expect our children to learn modern language skills from these bitter people? Just talking at a fast speed, machine gunning it as the Cubans do, does not prove that you know what you are talking about. They have the teaching credentials so what can we say? Fortunately they are not teaching our children so it is not our problem. We feel sorry for them but there is nothing we can do. The Bay of Pigs was a disaster as we all know. Anyway, lots of very sick, bad people have teaching credentials so just having a teaching credential proves nothing. People with teaching credentials are trained to work with children but we must remember that they have a hard time communicating with intelligent adults such as myself. We have a hard time feeling sorry for teachers when they already paid far more than they are worth. Who was it that I was talking to about the annoying thing about trying to talk to people with teaching credentials who think that everyone else is their stupid pupil? We agreed that is partly because of the limited experience of credentialed teachers. We on the other hand have no need of fourth grade assignments. We are far beyond anything an elementary school teacher could ever teach us so we just listen politely to their chit chat and then we send them back to their schools because that is where they belong.

Monday, March 14, 2011


Just to clarify, there is no real James. James is a fictional character, the husband of Pollyanna in the series of books, many of which were to be found in the MK school library and read by me. I really liked that name. The James in the Pollyanna books was such a nice person, the husband of Pollyanna. But he isn't real. Still, I thought at the time that if I ever had a son I might name him James or else Kenneth, after the main character in another book in the MK school library. But I probably won't do that now that I know of too many other James characters who do not fit this description. Thus, there is no James in my life, as it turns out.

State Of Affairs

Yes, one would think that the U.S. State Department would be embarrassed of this garbage dump they have left all over the place. Is this how the government treats its private citizens such as myself? How am I supposed to function as a normal tax-paying citizen when the fate of WWII is still hanging over my head like the sword of Damocles? As if I ever thought for a moment about a career in diplomacy. I always knew I wasn't cut out for that so it boggles the mind that anyone would think otherwise. These State Department can't seriously expect me to regurgitate all of these lame, pathetically bad genealogy jokes about the origin of the surname Catto, a tribe of wild Indians rarely glimpsed cavorting in the jungles of Ceylon. You must be joking. This drivel is not even funny, just the product of a mind much sicker than mine. Where is the cavalry? Where is the exit from this funny farm maze? I need to get out of this mess now. Now that we all see where this is coming from we can all turn it off and go home now because it is all just a very bad joke and nothing more.

Sunday, March 13, 2011


Yes, it was Pam who called me a mouse. I get so tired of hearing Pam's mindless mutterings repeated ad infinitum all over the place, as if silly Pam were anything but a scurrilous rodent, always hiding behind other people whenever she attacks me. As if Pam even knows what she is talking about. She just mindlessly repeats some stupid gossip from some stupid gossip source, whoever it might be. But what do you expect from a stupid Michigander? Stinking rats live in Michigan. We have no expectations that anything coming from Pam's mouth is anything but copycatting gossip so we will not be calling Pam again. Pam has no place in my life. She is just another clone of Lori Kelderman or whoever it is. She always did have a peculiar angle on things. I am not sure where she gets her twisted thinking but she does not get it from me.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Stricklands of Malta

Yes, isn't that interesting. I may well be descended from the Stricklands of Sizergh Castle, even if you probably have to go all the way back to Elizabethan times to find a connection to Katherine Parr, the last wife of Henry VIII, or Mary Queen of Scots, but I am not alone in claiming such descendancy. Thousands, nay, perhaps tens or even hundreds of thousands of Americans may have descended from Strickland immigrants to America. Take for example Matthew Strickland, who sailed from Liverpool in 1680 aboard "The Globe" and settled at Isle of Wight in Virginia. Among the distant cousins of the Stricklands in America, found by punching the famous relatives button on, we find illustrious presidents of the United States such as Jimmy Carter and Lyndon B. Johnson, even First Lady Barbara Bush, all the way down to the famous bank robbers and outlaws Bonnie and Clyde Barrow and Chuck Barrow. If it were not for our Strickland connections we might not be enjoying a connection to all of these varied peoples.

Thus it might also be imagined that the Stricklands left behind in the United Kingdom are also equidistant in kinship thus also affording a variety of entertaining connections even if further removed in terms of geography. One interesting example might be found in Gerald Strickland, the 1st Baron Strickland and 6th Count of Catena. Unlike we Strickland descendants here in the U.S. who have not the slightest interest in Italian politics and did not even know clue that Maltese people don't even speak Italian, their Strickland was born in the city of Valletta, on the island of Malta, to a Maltese mother, Luisa Bonici Mompalao, a niece of the Count of Catena. Strickland is even buried there on Malta, at Mdina. Strickland founded the Anglo-Maltese political party in 1917 (funny thing is my sister used to own a Maltese dog, Tiger), which later evolved into Malta's Constitutional Party. Oddly, Strickland represented Lancaster in the House of Commons in the U.K. (Conservative Party) and also served as Prime Minister of Malta and it seems that the terms were overlapping. Strickland also published newspapers, the Daily Malta Chronicle and the Ix-Xemx

Yes, from 1903-1917 Strickland had previously served as Governor of Tasmania, Western Australia, and New South Wales so he had a lot of experience in government, obviously.

Obviously we have not the slightest thought of competing with or taking over for Gerald in his role in British politics given that the relationships is so far removed from our existence here in the United States as to be unimaginable, not to mention that we have no connection whatever to the island of Malta.

In 1930 things got very dicey for Strickland after the Catholic archbishop published a letter declaring it a mortal sin to vote for the Constitutional Party or to read the newspapers published by Strickland. Finally Malta got a new constitution in 1939.

Mussolini announced Italy's plan to annex Malta, a British colony since the early 1800s, but Strickland died in 1940 so he did not see the outcome of World War II.

And why are you bugging us anyway? Are you not happy and relieved that Italy's fascist government was a colossal failure and by 1943 had already surrendered to Allied Forces? Is independence not good enough for you? Do you really think a Big Brother would not make your lives miserable? Perhaps you really liked being a British colony or perhaps you would prefer be annexed to Italy after all or even to Libya rather than the United States or the U.K. given the many similarities in culture and politics and language. That is something that the people of Malta would have to decide for themselves. We can't really tell you what to do. Over here we don't even speak the Maltese language. Gerald is gone. Gerald is dead. You will have to find your own way just like everybody else.


Yes, I vaguely remember that some girls at Evangel were conspiring against Ann, that girl who kissed another girl during initiation activities. Yuk! At least I had the good sense to kiss a guy, not a girl. Duh! I forget what they were going to do about her. I don't even remember who she was, just someone who lived on the opposite side of the dorm.

Mr. Limbo Land

There is no reason whatever to give another thought to Mr. Limbo Land. Does he have no faith? Does he not believe that God works all things together for good to those who are called according to His purpose? Does Mr. Limbo Land never read his Bible and pray? Obviously not, for if he ever did he would see that perhaps now is not the time. He must wait wait wait. Or he can sell sell sell. Those are his options, wait for never-never land or sell to the next poor loser down the street. Obviously this situation is not going to do much for land values but, really, what do you expect out there on the margins of social acceptability, always dreaming about pie in the sky. Were you expecting to get rich quick? Ha ha ha! No, it does not work that way. We all may be moldering in our graves long before this war even gets started.
There are no guarantees in this life. So why spend so much time making everyone else miserable? Have you nothing constructive to say? The more you toot your own horn, the more difficult you make it for all concerned. How can you expect me to vote your way when you have got everything working against me? It just doesn't make any sense.

Friday, March 11, 2011


Yes, who was that nasty witch Elizabeth, the Presbyterian, who was brought in to be supervisor instead of me? I could not stand taking orders from that haughty, arrogant person. Fortunately I was able to submit my resignation shortly after that because, well, it was time for me to leave and one cannot expect me to spend the rest of my life taking orders from her. I have better things to do with my life than to take orders from Elizabeth. Better to find my own life somewhere else on the planet far away from Elizabeth than to continue in that miserable state of servitude and slavery to her. I am not saying that she was a bad person, and it was not necessarily her fault that I strongly dislike her, but I truly believe that I had every right to leave that place far behind me, that it was high time that I moved along professionally and improved my skills in order to advance beyond anything that Elizabeth's tiny little brain could ever comprehend, and so I returned to school and doubt that I will ever get back there again to stay because, well, that would be a step down for me.

Thomas Redmond

Yes, I am trying to remember who Thomas Redmond was other than just a classmate in journalism. He was sort of weird, sort of hostile, but I never really understood what his problem was. Maybe Cheryl or Machelle remember something about him but I don't. I think that his family was from South Florida but I have forgotten what he said, something about his father having a company in this area, maybe public relations although I am not sure. It was very dangerous to try to talk to Tom. He would get all irritated and act like he didn't want to be bothered talking to us so there was no reason to try to get to know Tom or even less so to try to contact him later or to remember anything about him.


Speaking of murderers, we should remember that Temple Houston, son of the illustrious Sam Houston, was the attorney who defended "Red Tom" O'Hare, who murdered the Indian "Red Blanket" (aka "Wolf Hair") in cold blood. The O'Hare Incident occurred in 1893 in Roger Mills County. Thanks to Houston's work as an attorney, "Red Tom" O'Hare was acquitted of killing the Indian even though he himself admitted to doing so according to witnesses based on some hearsay about stolen cattle. Anyway, O'Hare was drunker than a hoot owl when the murder occurred according to witnesses. Also, the trial was moved to Canadian county where the Cheyennes apparently would have not that much influence. Before the trial a war party of Cheyennes appeared in town asking for the prisoner to be turned over to them but negotiations with town officials resulted in the Cheyennes going back to their reservation to await the outcome of a fair trial.

Speaking of Rewards

Yes, the McClellan ancestor was able to redeem his properties by killing the predator, the gypsy/Moor/whatever who was hiding out in the woods, and thus win glory and fame for the McClellan clan, taking the head on the tip of his sword to present to the king, thus culminating with the family motto "Think On."

Temple Houston, on the other hand, was not so fortunate. Although a son of the illustrious former president of the Texas Republic, Temple was denied a similar opportunity not by a king, as we in the U.S. have no King James II to authorize such a reward in case some people have forgotten, but by the authorities of Roger Mills County in Oklahoma. However, in this case Temple was not content to kill the killers and then claim the reward that had been offered by the City of Cheyenne. No, Temple, a resident of Judkins, Oklahoma, wanted the county, Roger Mills County, to post a bond so that apparently his expenses in performing the duties of bounty hunter would be covered ahead of time and thus the reward virtually prepaid.

This offer was rejected and the persons in custody were released for lack of evidence.

That no one was charged may seem somewhat amazing given that it is fairly certain that Sheriff Andrew Jackson Bullard and his deputy John Cogburn were killed on July 2, 1902, at the head of Dead Indian Creek by the outlaws, Sam Green and Pete Whitehead and others in the group of seven people who were wandering the Oklahoma countryside apparently collecting stolen horses and cattle and other items.

There was a eyewitness, Frank Doan, who saw the whole thing. Frank had stopped and talked to Bullard and then rode on. When Doan heard gunshots he looked back over his shoulder and saw Bullard and his deputy falling to the ground. Bullard's body was found dead, riddled with 11 bullets in him from three different guns. Cogburn was killed by one bullet.

So that's one report. Makes you wonder how Green and Whitehead got away, but it is very dangerous to chase down murderers. They might kill you first.

Thursday, March 10, 2011


Obviously lots of people have already read the McClellan book, the one about my great-great-grandfather, William Brownlow McClellan, so I don't need to explain about his continued political opposition to Sam Houston. McClellan, in his newspapers of the mid-1800s, mostly published in LaGrange, Texas, consistently campaigned against Sam Houston, president of the Republic of Texas and later U.S. Senator, in every election and for whatever reason. Kind of makes you wonder why George Bush would be so fascinated the "old hero."

There possibly was a personal aspect to that mutual enmity. Sam Houston was possibly a student of McClellan's grandfather at least for a bit and also friends with the governor of Tennessee, who would be some distant cousin to McClellan, and also friends with McClellan the Choctaw Indian agent not to be confused with my ancestor, but it would seem that my grandfather's cousin does not fully explain that aspect of it. The book mostly just describes the various themes that McClellan wrote about. No need for me to rehash that same old story about "the Mexican Prisoners," those 141 Texans who languished in Mexican prisons for two years, until 1844. Sam Houston, president of the Republic of Texas, seemed reluctant to do anything about it, busy as he was trying to negotiate annexation into the United States, and McClellan's newspaper makes much of the delay. On April 11, 1844, Houston returned by mail a free copy of the newspaper, the "Intelligencer."

Bad Houston policies:
* Indian peace treaty: McClellan criticizes this Houston policy, saying that "the crack of our sure rifles is the best guarantee" (of peace and safety). (This is not such an unusual opinion. Not much has changed. Even today the U.S. tends to think that the crack of our superior weapons is the best insurance.)
* Texas capital: Removal of the capital of Texas out of Austin, leaving the entire western frontier of Texas vulnerable to Mexican and Indian raids and incursions, crashing land values, etc. But the attempt to move the capital to Washington-on-the-Brazos is not short-lived and by 1845 the capital is back in Austin so obviously the people knew better than Sam Houston on this point.

In 1845, McClellan fails to support Houston for U.S. Senator, preferring to endorse Thomas Rusk and M.B. Lamar (obviously not to be confused with "La Mar," that Spanish song sung by all on the bus on the way back from campamento). Jesse Grimes, in a letter to Anson Jones, then president of Texas, says of McClellan: "The La Grange Intelligencer is early in announcing its favorites for the Senate and has ingeniously selected a ticket that will have considerable tendency to unite the East with the West, but this ticket will not suit, at least a respectable portion of the community. Texas has suffered sufficiently under the profligate administration of the one and the other has recently kept rather bad company; true proverb, that a man is known by the company he keeps." Grimes thinks that Houston and Jones will be unbeatable, but as it turned out, Houston and Rusk won.

In 1854, McClellan, describing a pamphlet in which Gen. T. T. Green criticizes a speech that Houston made in the U.S. Senate, says: "It may be truly said, that Gen. Green has 'lathered the old hero with aqua fortis and shaved him with a whipsaw.'"

Thus we see that McClellan and Houston were not exactly buddies, to put it mildly.


Yes, that was a very crude remark that Bonnie made about her boyfriend. If I had known ahead of time that she was going to emit this auditory vomit perhaps I could have arranged to be away from my desk for an extended time, but anyway she was not talking to me. She might have been talking to Cathy, an editor, who if I remember rightly was sitting at the desk to the left of me although Cathy seemed to float around. Bonnie's desk faced mine which makes Bonnie and Cathy catty-corner to each other. It is hard for me not to overhear everything that Bonnie says when our desks face each other and only our computers being at an angles avoids us from having to sit eye to eye. Yes, sometimes it did get sort of annoying having to listen to Bonnie vomiting all over the place, ditto to Cathy. That is the problem with working in a secular workplace. One cannot choose one's co-workers. Even Christian workplaces can be not that great. I have some stories about that, too. But anyway these co-workers are just there vomiting all over the place and then one day they are gone. In Bonnie's case she got a great job writing public relations at Food For The Poor, a Christian charity organization, so one assumes that she was fairly good at what she does at her job even if not kept as a personal friend. As for Cathy, one has to wonder how someone who moonlights writing pornography could ever have much credibility in the world of journalism. Cathy mentioned that she moonlights writing pornography but I did not ask her any questions about that. The information just came out of her mouth without any prompting from me.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Lamberts (Revised)

I remember Wanda Lambert as maybe a third grader when I was in eighth grade at San Salvador Christian Academy in El Salvador. Mrs. Lambert sometimes served as our substitute teacher, once even for a whole week which required reading aloud a few pages from a book during the half-hour storytime after lunch. Mrs. Lambert wore glasses with very dark, thick frames that covered her eyebrows. Her solution was to paint cartoonish eyebrows on her forehead, just in case you were worried about her eyebrows getting covered by the dark-framed glasses. I mean really, did she think that we students could not figure out that those were not her real eyebrows? But I digress. It is vaguely interesting that our paths did cross with persons of the surname Lambert, not to be confused with Lambeth, a former boss. The Lamberts that I knew were American missionaries in El Salvador. However, the Lamberts listed in the annals of the British peerage are the children of honorable Elizabeth, actually Camden-Elizabeth MacLellan, the one and only daughter and heir of Camden-Gray MacLellan, the 10th and last Lord Kirkcudbright. The title became dormant at his death in 1832 because he had no male heir but he did have one daughter who married James Staunton Lambert and they apparently lived in Galway, Ireland. I suppose that the Lamberts, if any survivors of that branch of the Lambert family still survive, could apply for the title of Lord Kirkcudbright, except that there is no Kirkcudbright in Galway, which is located in Galloway, so it would not make a lot of sense, now would it? How can you call yourself Lord Kirkcudbright when you have never lived in that town, not even in Scotland, but actually are from Northern Ireland? And anyway, your surname is not even anything close to MacLellan or McClellan or McClelland, etc., so there is no way that you could hope to be approved as clan chief. No McClellan is going to vote for an Irish Lambert, Is suspect. So the title just would not mean anything, now would it?

Puerto Rico

Oh, yes, I had completely forgotten about Eva, the reporter who was fired for being an extremely bad writer, barely able to write a coherent sentence, producing pathetically bad stories. That is what someone said but I really don't know in any kind of personal way. I only know what someone said, maybe Bonnie. Bonnie or someone, maybe Kathy, heard that Eva went home to Puerto Rico where she easily got a great job at Associated Press even though she could not cut the mustard at our small operation. One tends to assume from what Bonnie said that these Latin reporters are hired for their ethnic categorization rather than any English language talent they may or actually may not have.


Ha ha ha! I well remember that obnoxious Sergio Scataglini, Jeff Campbell's friend from Argentina. One day in the cafeteria he struck up this long conversation with me and then finally he got around to the point of the conversation. Do I have a car so that I can take him somewhere? He really needs a ride and, well, I just happened to be the person available in the cafeteria at that moment. Umm.. No, actually I do not have a car, I told him. Suddenly, his manner toward me turned from kind to contemptous. These Latino guys have no use for a white girl who is not going to deliver the world to them on a silver platter, obviously. But I cannot be someone I am not. I cannot be a senior who owns a car when I am only a junior who does not own a car. Sorry but, well, the people from Argentina should not imagine that we are Evita who will deliver whatever the people want. No, we are not sitting here eagerly waiting for some smarmy guy to pretend to be my friend only because it is suddenly convenient for him and he needs something from me. No, it does not work that way. It is a two-way street as you will find out sooner or later, not that I would know anything about this.


I do remember that when I was about maybe six or seven years old I sang a solo in church. I also remember that some other girls in the church were jealous because obviously the only reason I would be selected was that my father was the assistant pastor. It is not like there would be any other reason in their minds. And yet they have no problem committing nepotism freely and all over the place. Something is wrong with this picture but I have no power to argue with nepotists. The nepotists, who could be construed as incestuous in some sense, have all the power in the world to turn it all around and make it seem like it is my problem so there is nothing anyone can do about it, and I'm not even the person who was complaining about nepotism. But I am available for nepotists to beat up on me as usual.

Yes, nepotism is not really a problem if the son is a mature adult. It is only a problem when the son is a vile disgusting pig like the Bueno-Hoskins brats.

Lost In Space

It boggles the mind that anyone could think that I would have known in high school anything at all about the Stricklands left in England. I don't even know very much about my Strickland relatives in Texas, let alone anything at all about the England branch of the Strickland family, if it be true that we are attached somehow to the inhabitants of Sizergh Castle located as it is in the region of Cumbria, England, four miles south of Kendal. The property at first belonged to the Deincourt family but passed into possession of the Stricklands upon the marriage of the Deincourt's daugher to Sir William de Strikeland in 1239 A.D. It looks beautiful in the photographs but, well, I am not sure whether I will ever have a chance to see it in my lifetime. It is very expensive traveling across the pond.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Interpretation (revised)

Now isn't that funny, wicked Robbie Hoskins pretending to be Pentecostal? We all know that he has the Westminster Confession stamped all over his resume. There is not necessarily anything wrong with that. The Westminster Confession of faith has its place in the history books about the Protestant Reformation, especially in Scotland and also England. Tulips have their place in the writings of John Calvin. However, the riches of God are infinite. Tulips are beautiful in their place but I don't see any tulips growing around our house. We all know that if you are a Presbyterian who obsesses on tulips you will develop a closed system that tends to repel unbelievers, a country club mentality, and that is just not what makes Pentecostals tick. We never did give any preference to Presbyterians as compared to Methodists, Baptists, Nazarenes, etc. We are not interested in applying to the Hoskins Country Club because, well, we don't live in Michigan or Iowa anyway, never did. We are quite capable of interpreting the Bible for ourselves with help from those who represent what we believe which would not include the Hoskins Clan. Yes, Robbie never speaks to us but we really don't care. What use are words when you are a compulsive liar? It would just be a huge waste of time to try to communicate with someone who just bounces lies and actually has nothing to say to me. I try to make a point of ignoring their signals because they are not really talking to me.

Sunday, March 6, 2011


Did I ever mention that I could not care less about Tennessee? Yes, it's true. And who was that guy I once had a crush on who was named Paul? Maybe he was from Tennessee but that is about the only thing I remember about him. Otherwise I could not care less about Paul and whoever his family turned out to be. I could not care less about Paul and I could not repeat this thought enough times to emphasize that I could not care less. If he is not going to be a friend to me, then I am definitely going to reciprocate that sentiment exactly. I really was not planning to continue hostilities but if war is what Tennessee wants, then we should remind Tennessee that there are fifty other states out there who will kick Tennessee's butt if they try to rebel against the Union. The Sons of the Confederacy were losers in case you forgot. We have found the text of the debate in which you defended slavery, you psycho! The Emancipation Proclamation did not your way and yet you expect us all to feel sorry for you. But you are really not all that important in the whole scheme of things. You call yourself Jewish because your great-grandfather was Jewish but I also may have some Jewish blood in me somewhere and I could also convert if I wanted to but my ancestors found something better in Christ and his church and so that is where my treasure is. Anyway, as far as I am concerned you are just one state out of fifty states all waiting for their turn at the microphone so keep it short and simple because what you have to say is only a tiny piece of the puzzle. In fact, you are not worth even five seconds of my time and attention at this stage. You have already used up more than your share of attention, much more than you ever deserved in the first place, and it is time to give other people a chance. You eat up all the space and then everyone gets the impression that it is all about you when it really is not about you. Got it? Good.

Saturday, March 5, 2011


Well, isn't that funny! I do not remember being all that aware of the existence of Terry Meeuwsen so why is she so bent out of shape over what I said? If she wants to own the title of "Dutch-Whore" then she is welcome to take possession and claim it if she so desires but really I wasn't talking about her.

Friday, March 4, 2011


Oh, did I say that I was part of the missionary family that time when I was interviewed that time? Ha ha ha! What a joke! I must have been out of my mind. No way would I want claim kinship to those riff-raff losers of the distribution department. Ha ha ha! No way would I ever claim kinship Harold Mintle who always dictates the stupidest business letters that make no sense at all. The job sounds important but, well, it was mostly a title with nothing much to do, actually.

And what about crazy Don Triplett always trying to build castles in the sky. What does one expect from those silly Nicas anyway? Why is he always trying to sell us an uninhabitable pile of rocks? It has no roof so the rain and snow would keep us wet and freezing to death. How stupid does he think we are anyway? If he wants to buy Sizergh Castle he will have to negotiate himself with the British National Trust to whom the building was donated in 1950. We have no chairs in Parliament so we have no leverage there. The people own the castle now. It is very expensive to maintain such a large building. You have to have lots of money in the bank to pay all the gardeners and cleaning people. One person cannot be expected to keep track of all those priceless historic treasures that do not belong to our family anyway. We are not that closely related. They may belong to humanity in a general sense but not to us.

No, obviously I was only saying what I was supposed to say, not what I really thought about it.

Not Available

What part of "I am not available" does evil Wicked Witch Lee not understand? We girls all thought that was an interesting leopard skin coat worn at missionary retreat but otherwise I am simply not available to be abused by that horrid, hideous woman and there is nothing else to be said about that. Sure, if I had $1 million tucked away somewhere I could fill a whole vault with tapes of myself singing, fill my wardrobe with more fashionable clothing, and maybe even write a book about something and then whine and complain about every little thing until no one wants to see me ever again but, what would be the point? Vanity of vanities, all is vanity, but of course only they are allowed the luxury of being vain. They deserve the vanity labeling, I do agree on that point.

I spent my entire childhood being abused and mistreated by the wicked Bueno-Stewart clan so I see no value in living here in South Florida in close proximity to the treacherously wicked, not to mention mentally retarded Hoskins "boys" and Lee's clueless bimbo daughter. We just have no use for such back-stabbers in our lives.

Thursday, March 3, 2011


Yes, I do remember that in sixth grade at the missionary kid school in El Salvador there was a guy named John Stuart, an eighth grader. I don't think he was there more than a year or two and I don't remember anything about him other than he was there. Who asked me about this? Anyway, he was not related to the Stewarts who also attended the school but it was very interesting to them to have someone in the same school of the other spelling. The Stewarts are always so proud of their name, always acting as if they are born to rule over us. It gets sort of annoying, actually, for a non-Stewart like me to feel like what I say or do just doesn't count. Everything they say is taken at face value and I am never consulted so, basically, Susie rules even when she is wrong or doesn't even know what she is talking about or even, dare I say, when she is twisting the facts to suit herself. Yes, we all have to feel so sorry because Susie's Dad died when she was 12 years old but, still, there is a limit to how far these sob stories will go. We grow weary of feeling sorry for Susie after she has trampled us underfoot for too long. Susie so loves her own name that she prayed that her husband would also be a Stewart and God answered her prayer with a Buzz Stewart. So that's nice for her, but I am not so particular as that. There is not really a last name requirement for me but, anyway, it would have to be someone who understands me and treats me like someone who counts for something, especially as I am not really that bad, not really any worse than some other people I can think of and perhaps even better than others. In fact, it it kind of depends on what you mean by bad. If I am only a copycat, what about the original sinner? I am not supposed to care about that, and yet it is already assumed that I am asking the question. So I could try to wriggle off the hook by explaining this but nobody would care. Yes, we are all supposed to feel sorry for the Bueno brats because their last name marks them as Hispanic but, well, c'est la vie. A large chunk of the population does very well with Hispanic names attached so I do not see any reason to feel sorry for them. In fact, sometimes they are the ones who treat us like garbage and not the other way around, so it boggles the mind that anyone could think otherwise. They expect us to tell them all about us but they never mention that their family tree is full of Scottish and English names: Stewart, McFarlane, Drake, Moore, McWhiner, etc. So the surname does not necessarily represent very much, only one aspect of one's heritage, not the whole picture.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011


Speaking of castles, my grandfather McClellan was very Scottish, his father having been a circuit-riding minister for Cumberland Presbyterian Church on the Texas frontier back in the late 1800s. My grandmother, on the other hand, might be considered British if you trace her by the Strickland name, as well as being a Methodist. Back in the old times you didn't have much choice. You lived on a little farm out in the Texas countryside and you attended the local church whenever the preacher of whatever denomination arrived to hold church, usually Sundays of course. Whether or not we can trace our lineage back to the Stricklands, the Catholic Lords of Sizergh Castle in northern England, is not clear. My guesswork says yes but I am not sure. You would have to go back many many generations and there were other Stricklands, too, even back in the days of the Tudors so we cannot be sure. It is sort of mildly entertaining to think that my great-grandfather Henry Strickland, the Texas farmer who served in the Texas Rangers and herded cattle along the famed Chisholm trail, might have descended from the ancient Stricklands who were at one time back in the 1500s and 1600s very well connected to the aristocracy and even the royal family of England. Katherine Parr, the last wife of Henry VIII, was a close friend who spent some time living at Sizergh Castle with the Stricklands. They also could claim some connection to Mary Queen of Scots by marriage. I read somewhere that the Stricklands, who were Catholics, accompanied the King James II into exile at Saint-Germaine in France where Lady Strickland served as governess to the young Stuart prince. The Stricklands were able to arrange to get their castle back when they later returned to England. The Stricklands also took up arms in battle against the Scots on occasion, so I suppose you could say that my grandparents were also at war with each other, but, no, that wouldn't be true. We in America remember but dimly the wars of religion. In our family we were all just Protestants so we do not see any need to break down the wall. There is a wall and it is very hard to cross over when it is a matter of salvation. It is all about the joy of salvation and you could of lose it over there on that side because you can never be sure where you stand. At least I have the joy of my salvation even if nothing else. Did not Patrick Henry say give me liberty or give me death? Sometimes it is just one or the other and not both.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Speaking of Dresses

Yes, I remember hearing the story of the girl who went out and bought her wedding dress even though she had no fiancee, not even a boyfriend, and just prayed for God to fill the need. Isn't that sort of presumptuous to ask God to redeem our own foolishness? How very scary for her. What if God never did bring a husband into her life? What would she do with the dress anyway? I am glad that I never did that.