I'd rather they be themselves.

Some people just plain don't like me. But it doesn't bother me. I never intended to be so likeable that everyone would like me. That would be stupid. And impossible, too. I find that I'm most disliked for being myself. Being me. Some people don't want me to be me. They think it's shameful. That I'm a cad. So much of what they abhor. But I write this all off. Because they don't know me. Or maybe because at times I can be a cad. I like to poke fun at people that dislike me. Because they amuse me. They are very entertaining. Even to the point that I tend to like many of 'em. I don't consider them enemies. And maybe in a round-about way I'm learning to love my so-called enemies. I make them less an enemy. And more an acquaintance. Maybe even a friend. Yes, I think it's possible to have a friend that dislikes me. Some of 'em would like to remake me. Into the image they desire. That's not very friendly. But I don't require my friends to be friendly. I'd rather that they be themselves. Even if they are asses. --Jim Broede

I'm going flag-shopping.

I didn't bring back everything I meant to. From Sardinia. Where I spent the winter. Yes, I wanted the Italian flag. And the Sardinian flag. So that I could fly both of 'em on my premises in Minnesota. Normally, I'm not a flag waver. I have no particular desire to fly the American flag. Because I abhor the idea of being a super patriot, American-style. Just going through the motions. Such as flying the flag or reciting the pledge of allegiance or singing the national anthem. But I feel more a sense of closeness and nostalgia to Sardinia and Italy. Because it's the homeland of my true love. The love I feel for her runneth over. To her homeland. I think of Sardinia as Paradise. Because I associate it with my true love. Don't know if that makes any sense. Maybe that's the nature of love. Doesn't make any sense. It just is. Brings out the desire in me. To fly the Sardinian and Italian flags. So, I'm going flag-shopping. --Jim Broede

The wonder of it all. No limits.

I have a very detailed map in front of me. Of the island of Sardinia. In the Mediterranean Sea. Shows virtuallty all of the accessible roads. From one end to another. Hundreds of cities and villages. And landmarks. Maybe thousands. Might take a lifetime and more to get to see everything. My true love has lived in Sardinia virtually her entire life. And when I was with her this winter, she got to some places for the first time. Discovering Sardinia is like discovering my true love. I can find something new and captivating every day. The same goes for Minnesota. My home state for the past 45 years. So much of Minnesota I have yet to see. Never will see it all. But that's what I like about life. I can't go everywhere. I can't ever grasp the full complexities of life. Even if I have forever. That's the wonder of it all. No limits. --Jim Broede

To arrive, I need forever.

Seems to me that eating one's meals should be true dining. Not just putting food into one's mouth or drinking a beverage. I watch people as they eat. And many of 'em are merely there to fill their stomachs. Quickly. So they can get on with other things. Eating should be a nice ritual. So that a little bit of food lasts for a long time. I try never to eat in a hurry. When I eat alone, I intentionally try to slow down the process. By reading a book. An especially good book. Riveting. Captivating. Or by listening to relaxing music. Maybe I even light a candle. If I'm dining with someone, I like pleasant conversation. Maybe I try to avoid the subject of politics. If I'm dining with several people, I want to be the last to finish. Even though I may be the one that consumes the least amount of food. That especially goes for my favorite foods. I wanna make them last. Taking the opportunity to savor. To make dining a pure pleasure. My cat, Loverboy, has taught me the proper way to eat. He takes his good-natured time. His mate, Chenuska, empties her dish and fills her tummy with record-setting speed. As if dining is a sprint. A race. To get everything down fast. Little wonder that she sometimes urps it all up. A stomach wasn't built to go from empty to full in an instant. Yes, I find that the slower I move through life, the better the pleasure. That goes for almost everything I do. I don't wanna be in a hurry. That's why I need forever to get to where I'm going. --Jim Broede

I'd rather be a free-thinker.

These ain't my words, folks. I picked them up this morning from an article in the Huffington Post. Gives one something to think about.

The results from a recent poll published by the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life (http://www.pewforum.org/Politics-and-Elections/Tea-Party-and-Religion.aspx) reveal what social scientists have known for a long time: White Evangelical Christians are the group least likely to support politicians or policies that reflect the actual teachings of Jesus. It is perhaps one of the strangest, most dumb-founding ironies in contemporary American culture. Evangelical Christians, who most fiercely proclaim to have a personal relationship with Christ, who most confidently declare their belief that the Bible is the inerrant word of God, who go to church on a regular basis, pray daily, listen to Christian music, and place God and His Only Begotten Son at the center of their lives, are simultaneously the very people most likely to reject his teachings and despise his radical message.

Jesus unambiguously preached mercy and forgiveness. These are supposed to be cardinal virtues of the Christian faith. And yet Evangelicals are the most supportive of the death penalty, draconian sentencing, punitive punishment over rehabilitation, and the governmental use of torture. Jesus exhorted humans to be loving, peaceful, and non-violent. And yet Evangelicals are the group of Americans most supportive of easy-access weaponry, little-to-no regulation of handgun and semi-automatic gun ownership, not to mention the violent military invasion of various countries around the world. Jesus was very clear that the pursuit of wealth was inimical to the Kingdom of God, that the rich are to be condemned, and that to be a follower of Him means to give one's money to the poor. And yet Evangelicals are the most supportive of corporate greed and capitalistic excess, and they are the most opposed to institutional help for the nation's poor -- especially poor children. They hate anything that smacks of "socialism," even though that is essentially what their Savior preached. They despise food stamp programs, subsidies for schools, hospitals, job training -- anything that might dare to help out those in need. Even though helping out those in need was exactly what Jesus urged humans to do. In short, Evangelicals are that segment of America which is the most pro-militaristic, pro-gun, and pro-corporate, while simultaneously claiming to be most ardent lovers of the Prince of Peace.

Now there's some thoughts to ponder. And if that ain't enough. Here's even more from the same article.

What's the deal?

Before attempting an answer, allow a quick clarification. Evangelicals don't exactly hate Jesus -- as we've provocatively asserted in the title of this piece. They do love him dearly. But not because of what he tried to teach humanity. Rather, Evangelicals love Jesus for what he does for them. Through his magical grace, and by shedding his precious blood, Jesus saves Evangelicals from everlasting torture in hell, and guarantees them a premium, luxury villa in heaven. For this, and this only, they love him. They can't stop thanking him. And yet, as for Jesus himself -- his core values of peace, his core teachings of social justice, his core commandments of goodwill -- most Evangelicals seem to have nothing but disdain.

And this is nothing new. At the end of World War I, the more rabid, and often less educated Evangelicals decried the influence of the Social Gospel amongst liberal churches. According to these self-proclaimed torch-bearers of a religion born in the Middle East, progressive church-goers had been infected by foreign ideas such as German Rationalism, Soviet-style Communism, and, of course, atheistic Darwinism. In the 1950s, the anti-Social Gospel message piggybacked the rhetoric of anti-communism, which slashed and burned its way through the Old South and onward through the Sunbelt, turning liberal churches into vacant lots along the way. It was here that the spirit and the body collided, leaving us with a prototypical Christian nationalist, hell-bent on prosperity. Charity was thus rebranded as collectivism and self-denial gave way to the gospel of accumulation. Church-to-church, sermon-to-sermon, evangelical preachers grew less comfortable with the fish and loaves Jesus who lived on earth, and more committed to the angry Jesus of the future. By the 1990s, this divine Terminator gained "most-favored Jesus status" among America's mega churches; and with that, even the mention of the former "social justice" Messiah drove the socially conscious from their larger, meaner flock.

In addition to such historical developments, there may very well simply be an underlying, all-too-human social-psychological process at root, one that probably plays itself out among all religious individuals: they see in their religion what they want to see, and deny or despise the rest. That is, religion is one big Rorschach test. People look at the content of their religious tradition -- its teachings, its creeds, its prophet's proclamations -- and they basically pick and choose what suits their own secular outlook. They see in their faith what they want to see as they live their daily lives, and simultaneously ignore the rest. And as is the case for most White Evangelical Christians, what they are ignoring is actually the very heart and soul of Jesus's message -- a message that emphasizes sharing, not greed. Peace-making, not war-mongering. Love, not violence.

Of course, conservative Americans have every right to support corporate greed, militarism, gun possession, and the death penalty, and to oppose welfare, food stamps, health care for those in need, etc. -- it is just strange and contradictory when they claim these positions as somehow "Christian." They aren't.

Ah, another reason why I'm not a modern-day Evangelical Christian. Instead, I prefer being a simple free-thinker. Associated with no organized religion. Seems to me that's more like what Jesus really was. A free-thinker. Certainly not an Evangelical Christian. --Jim Broede

Let's see what happens.

I have a feeling that this is gonna be a productive day. Not sure what that means. So I'm thinking about it. Now. Means I'm gonna accomplish something. Significant. May be a bunch of little things. An accumulation. Or it may be one big thing. But at the end of the day, I'm gonna say it was a productive day. Maybe that means I'm getting a little bit ahead of myself. By setting a goal for the day. Something called production. A word that I find hard to define. Maybe that's what I'm finally gonna do. Define productive by what I actually do today. Let's see what happens. Productively. --Jim Broede

They always wear a cloak.

I like to make people nervous. At least a little bit nervous. By probing. By asking questions. Which may prompt some beings to wonder, 'What's he up to?' In a sense, I like to strip people. Force them to walk naked. To reveal themselves. And to do that, I often find it necessary to become naked myself. To show that my intentions are good. Seems to me that nakedness begets nakedness. Honesty begets honesty. So often people hide behind masks. Or facades. That's a shame. Maybe they say they are trying to protect their privacy. But generally, I think that's bogus. They are merely afraid to go naked into the world. And to be their true selves. Many people are not what they appear to be. And that's what I want to find out. It may not be that they intentionally hide their identities. But more a case of not really knowing their identities. They've never looked at themselves in a naked way. They always wear a cloak. --Jim Broede