Which Reminds Me

Our friend Alexandra, from when I was in fifth grade at the American School in El Salvador, had this toy on her bedroom shelf as I recall. Although her monkeys were not metallic as in this example, there were three monkey dolls representing the "Hear no evil, See no evil, Speak no evil." At first glance this might seem to be a pithy-sounding proverb. It sounds sort of good. I mean, how fortunate that some people's lives afford them no opportunity to see or hear evil any time in the future, nor can they speak of any evil as obviously they have not seen or heard of anything. Perhaps they live in isolation tanks. I don't know. However, I tend to think this is not a Christian code for living. I tend to think of this Oriental saying rather as a code of conduct for thieves and liars and the devil's accomplices. Don't tell, Look the other other way, that sort of clever and evasive techniquey wisdom.

However, when Jesus says to not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, he is talking about doing good and giving to the poor. When you are giving to the poor, do not stand on the street corner and trumpet your good deeds to everyone within earshot because if men's applause is all that you want, men's applause is all that you will get.

We are not doing good deeds for the approval of men. God sees in secret and rewards in secret.

I guess this means that just because some idiot upstairs is hammering me because I do not qualify for Pharisee status, that does not mean that I have cause to fear. God hears prayer, God sees all, God rewards. And are you God? No, obviously not. My Dad has that book about Pharisees, but there is a sort of tongue in cheeky aspect of that.

Anyway, I don't see how some dimwitted Episcopalian need explain this minor point to me. I might even have read the Bible more times than yappy Susan ever did. I mean, who knows? Don't be so sure you know better than I do. Blah blah blah.

Tribal Structures

It is hard to understand why everyone is so interested in the building of a tribal structure to incorporate all of the distant branches of the Barth family, as if there were anything but a few old photographs to bring us all together. I really never know any of my Dad's four uncles well, and I never met Ben or Sam in person at all so I really don't feel any sense of belonging to the family per se. Some of those people I am only aware of through reading the diaries. Other than that, there is no reason for me to imagine that Uncle Ariel's family was ever any more important than ours. And anyway, does not the Bible tell us that we must be willing to forsake all family ties in order to accomplish the Kingdom of God? Not that we don't have family responsibilities but if they are only going to constantly hammer on me and try to interfere with my spiritual life then I will gladly dump all of those worthless relatives in the dumpster of forgetfulness. There is no reason for me to feel intimidated by those empty-headed people who never really met me anyway and never cared if I lived or died. I am not interested in applying for membership into some tribal structure whose composition does not inspire respect or admiration let's just say. Although the leadership of David might seem somewhat benign right now, I would not want to have to worry about someone's fifth cousin-in-law out in California later using that structure to heap curses on my head because I don't fit their definition of Sharon's Law. And who is Sharon anyway but just another useless member of the Walking Dead? We are not Arab dogs that we should need a tribal crutch to lean on. We are fine without tribal idiots to run everything into the ground, thanks anyway.

The Freemason Question

I wonder what makes these horrible Freemason dogs imagine that I would ever even think of applying for membership in their horrible back-stabbing club, especially now? I mean, the constitution gives us freedom of association so you can join that club if you really want to, if you really want to be in the know and in the power, but I really believe that I would be so miserable joined together with those obnoxious people, powerful though they may be. The whole point of coming to America was for the pioneers to be free of that decadent European garbage, to shake off the girp of the vile European elitists, and I still feel that way even now. I have no need of a Hospitaller at this point my life, not having any health problems that I know of. And what is Malta but a colony of inbred Italian whiners? And what is a Knight nowadays but a pretentious fop who probably has no practice with the bow and arrow. It is all just so much showiness. The Knights of Malta have plotted nothing but misery for my life so obviously they cannot expect me to care about what happens to them.

Minor Facts

Yes, it is mildly interesting to learn of the existence of Paul T. Barth, a native of Atlanta, Ga., who with his wife Hattie founded in 1921 the Association of Pentecostal Assemblies. He died in 1941 and was not in any way related to my great-grandfather, David A. Barth, who was born in Ohio, at least not that I know of. Maybe if you could track all the Barths in the USA back to Germany of the Middle Ages you could find some connection but it is not available here in the U.S., at least not that we know of. Barth founded a Bible college in Atlanta that at one time merged with Southeastern, which was founded in Alabama, but later moved to Lakeland, Florida. Oh, I didn't know that. Anyway, not being a Southeastern grad I nevertheless never set foot in the Beulah Heights school either. We really are not very interested in all these Deep South connections, having gladly delivered or heard that obnoxious Barbara Miller went to the airport, inspiring great relief at the thought of never having to listen to her nonsensical babbling ever again in this lifetime.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I wonder whatever happened to Patty Dog from San Jose who married Ed the VP at Editorial Vida? I have no idea. I really don't want to know anything more about that. I imagine that it is just a very complicated story with a sad ending and who wants to hear another tragic tale? I know I don't.

Which Reminds Me

During the desert biology field trip in college we stopped at the Tropic of Cancer monument there along the highway in Baja California. I have some photos of people posing at the monument, including one of Marty Robertson clowning around as usual. I cannot say that I ever really knew Marty, just vaguely recall that he was from San Diego but later was said to be working at Westmont College. These people seem so important during college but later the waters flow to the ocean and we may never see people like Marty ever again in this lifetime or even care to. Marty is just another small fish in a bigger ocean. Aren't we all?

Ole Miss

Yes, thanks Mom for being so nice to all those single women living temporarily in El Salvador. Thus we often had Barbara Miller over at our house yapping about Ole Miss as if that were the only university on the planet, and as if Mississippi were the source of all humanity. Obviously not. Mississippi was only a guest at our house on a few occasions, let Barbara not forget that important point. Barbara does not even qualify as the Lamb children's stepmother so just being from Mississippi is not enough to claim motherhood of the entire human race obviously. And what horrid Lamb trash concocted this horrible exercise anyway? It does make you wonder who is running this country anyway.