Glenn Memorial United Methodist Church: Rev. Dr. Alice Rogers, Senior Pastor

"She liked it!  She liked it!

It really really seemed she liked it!"

~(Simply Jim:  One Pearl, Total Pig, Anti-Christ)~

"God is a comedian playing to an audience too afraid to laugh."

 ~(Voltaire)~

My choice of tie to wear having been inspired by a favorite joke of mine, 

 THE DON'T STEP ON A DUCK JOKE (?),  

must send the pastor of this church, attended past Sunday with all the important women of my life in tow,  

a copy of this joke.

Although wasn't expecting anyone at this church complaining about the tie I was wearing with it's red devil rubber duckies design, most certainly was not expecting the tie's only compliment coming from this church new senior pastor.

Caught off guard...

 more likely the reason why it felt so energetic and cheerful.

Did she, or did she not, know who I was?

Would be hard believing she didn't.

DAMN! 

 

Makes a difference;

HUGE DIFFERENCE, 

how someone the likes of me proceeds from this point.

The only way I know how explaining the difference this can makes in how we interpret each other language as well as our own, would be to quote a line from a cartoon character from a movie.

(Two substantive and one unsubstantive?)

(Two substantive and one unsubstantive?) 

(Two substantive and one unsubstantive?) 

(Two substantive and one unsubstantive?)

(Two substantive and one unsubstantive?)

 

(Two substantive and one unsubstantive?)

 WHO FRAMED ROGER RABBIT

 

  

"A laugh can be a powerful thing.  

Why sometimes in life, it's the only weapon we've got."

~(Roger Rabbit)~

Was high as a kite that Sunday. So stressed out by so many hopes crashed and still continuing to be crashed, could hardly talk due to all the attempts; not able passing up this opportunity finding something giving me hope from my two now grown up nieces.

From the minute they arrived Friday evening right up until the two returned early Sunday evening with their three kids in tow back to the hotel they were staying, nothing was taking root of anything I tried.  Not that I was able telling as I was getting no feedbacks.  

 

So many attempts; and still, absolutely nothing. 

Now again, finding myself alone my home with just my mother and sister;  realizing gradually the impossibility, at least impractical, expecting another chance with my two nieces unless I pushed, and pushed, and pushed making it happened.  Not after having been doing this for at least three years, already, since this whole mess started. 

Getting out of all this effort, from my very own family:

one appearance with me for a Sunday service held at Glenn Memorial United Methodist Church.

Complete frustration/exhaustion, the depressions even more entrenched having still even more reasons expecting none other than even more negative thoughts; absolutely having slipped back into the crystal meths habit with reasons for addictions to begin with never completely going away. 

Nor ever will they.

It would be feigning ignorance by all those wanting to believe they are not even partially to blame, when now, actually fully to blame for any consequences as a result of me having slipped back into the crystal meths habit.

As it should never have happened this way; 

absolutely, 

accepting none of the blame for any and all consequences resulting from this addition, if having to bear the responsibility alone...STILL...from this point on.  Not when considering the fact it was me who was attempting his own drug addiction intervention that unfaithful THANKSGIVING 2010.

"Yes, 

MOTHER!

You ARE right!

As your son, 

YOU DO HAVE 

a certain amount of responsibility

FOR(?)ME!

But it's even more wrong for anyone else in DeKalb County AGREEING...

  with you;

the eighty year old rural Arkansan mother

 of 

a fifty year old self avowed practicing 

DeKalb County home owning homosexual living here since 1995!

If  truly believing I belong in any kind of crisis center, 

able seeing no reason why they can not have me 

admitted and evaluated 

themselves. 

I'M TELLING YOU! STAY OUT OF THIS!"

~(SHE DIDN'T?! SHE DIDN'T?! SHE DID!!!!~(6!9)~INVOLUNTARY COMMITTED)~

Obvious to me from the very start, and considering Rev. Bob's Doctor of Theology degree,willing to bet even the Gary's eventually aware, these previous visits here over the last three years by my mother and sister were only misleading people into believing I had family being supportive; into believing I was the problem one who was refusing help with the addiction.  Even three unexpected unannounced visits by DeKalb Crisis Center to my home responding(?)to(?)complaints(?)by(?) neighbors(?)worried I posed a homocidal/suicidal risk.

And now...

having made my problems exponentially worse considering how unique, already too complicated my situations/problems were explaining to begin with. 

As the events unfolded this most recent visit by mother and sister but with both my nieces and their children in tow, something already expecting became just too obvious causing me to explode "belligerently" that Sunday evening once finding myself alone, again, with my mother and sister after the rest of my family returned to the hotel where they were staying for the last evening of this visit.   Once the realization begin setting in that this was the last time I would be seeing any of them again for a good while, what happened next was something, at first, wanting to believe I had no control over; the feeling as if someone had hit the total button on an adding machine after having just entered 

a 

WHOLE BUNCH OF NUMBERS! 

I know what other are going to call this; a psychosis know as "mind racing."    Although after several days of  needing the crystal just keeping up with all this extra activity not used to, starting the second they got here  like a switch having been thrown,  also on top of several nights short of sleep,  still rather calling this feeling something much closer to that of a clearly "well connected brain"  except now wanting to expand on this feeling one step further.  

Method Acting.

  

I'm now wanting to add something the equivalent to "method acting"  except without the needs transferring the emotions over to a different script needing a different set of words.

    It was all the new facts and observations resulting from having a very determined agenda combined with being aggressively persistent in my interaction with them; most likely even to the point of them all likely dismissing me as hostile/violent rather than justifiably confrontational.    Nothing more than the sheer enormity of new information my brain now had working with as it quickly begins adding them up;  on it's own. 

Again...

there were so many attempts, from so many different angles,  made necessary only because of all the failures;  combined with lack of any kind of feedback.  

Except for the likes of what follows: 

"I've spoken with a tennis instructor I know, 

who's a lesbian, 

although she never told us outright she was a lesbian, 

about our problem of you hating our mother.

Although she said she can sympathize with your frustrations, she said it was wrong for you hating our mother." 

~(Donna Gail Avery-Devine)~

"Mind explaining to me how this tennis instructor, a woman you know but has never outright told you she was a lesbian , would be better able having an opinion regarding my relationship with our mother... than you?"

~(Simply Jim:  One Pearl, Total Pig, Anti-Christ)~

"I have this other friend who's mother didn't tell her father she was bipolar until after they got married.  Her mother is mean!  I mean really really mean!  She can't stand her mother either!  She's really that mean! Just mean!  

But...

her mother and father did start a business together after they got married that doing really really well.  They got a lot of money!  But... she's mean!  Real mean!  She won't talk to her mother anymore."

~(Donna Gail Avery-Devine)~

"This mean woman,  she sending this friend of yours money?  You know, like the kind of money we received (e.g.  yearly non-taxable $20,000 gift check) as part of our father's estate planning?"

~(Simply Jim:  One Pearl, Total Pig, Anti-Christ)~

"Oh yes.  She still gets money from her mother.  But I mean this woman is really mean!  I mean,  she just that mean!"

~(Donna Gail Avery-Devine)~

"It wouldn't surprise me, that's probably why this business started by parents of this friend of yours, not only after they were married but also after this woman waiting until they were married first before confessing to her husband she was bipolar,  

did so extremely well. 

I mean, this woman's mean!  I mean just mean! 

Really really mean!  My guess would be, this friend you know, and the father of this friend, might just be the ones who just really really might not want this woman taking her bipolar medications.   I mean this woman just mean.  I mean she just really really that mean."

~(Simply Jim:  One Pearl, Total Pig, Anti-Christ.)~

Not going to deny that I do take some story telling liberties retelling our stories, but you will be shocked at how little the heart of these stories changes.  Really not at all. 

Having had this agenda throughout the whole visit, not one single second of observations, even observations of them interacting and conversing among themselves they probably didn't realize counted, were being discarded as trivial and/or irrelevant.  

Oh how so extremely obvious the cognitive bias became, that my own mother and sister were not even sharing with the rest of my Arkansan family any parts of everything I've tried over and over and over again, each and every time they barged into my home/life here, explaining to them what must first happen before any of these problems they see can be effectively dealt with.

Gladwell explains that reaching the 10,000-Hour Rule, which he considers the key to success in any field, is simply a matter of practicing a specific task that can be accomplished with 20 hours of work a week for 10 years. 

Wikipedia: Genius Rule 

As my brain has been at work almost non-stop on this single problem now for over three years...

believe I'm almost close to satisfying the "Genius Rule."  That would be nice if true?  All I would need now is an "E=mc2" moment.

A ghost writer would work better.

"Would you be offended if I put $20 dollars in the offering plate?

~(My Mother/ Us Walking to Sunday Church Service/Hell Betty Jo)~

"Not at all.  

Just think of it as an entrance fee into a bar or sex club.  Don't let this business of the offering plates being passed around toward the end of service fool you into thinking differently.

Same as six and half a dozen."

~(Methodist Fag/Simply Jim/Anti-Christ)~

"This is a "Confirmation Service".

~(My Mother/Glenn Memorial UMC Sunday Worship/Hell Betty Jo)~

"What's that?

(after reading the church brochure some) 

Not sure I understand the difference between this and baptism?"

~(Methodist Fag/Simply Jim/Anti-Christ)~

Only once home and after researching "Confirmation Service" on Wikipedia did I happen across something else catching my eyes and researching instead.  

Oh how so bizarre, the way I learned of "confirmation bias"  as well.

"Son's a son until he gets him a wife.

Daughter's a daughter all her life."

~(A Favorite of Mother's)~

Now today sitting at my computer, having now been inspired for yet another blog article.  Having now an understanding as well as a bit more of the proper terminology needed describing the reasons, best, behind  the magnitude of bipolar explosion that Sunday evening;  the  "manic episode of all manic episodes" witnessed by my sister and our mother in which I figuratively, as well as graphically,  decapitated our mother using one of my three chainsaws. 

And meaning every word of it.

"I'm sorry, Mother. Could you repeat that again." 

 ~(Mother having interrupted me during on of my phone rants)~

"You said you loved me."

~(Mother)~ 

"NO I DIDN'T!

But I will say this,

NOW... THAT'S DAD'S... GONE,

you're... APPARENTLY... my Bitch ...NOW!

AND...

as much as... I'VE... had to put up with, 

pretty obvious to...ME... you must have 

done... SOMETHING... right?!" 

~(Simply Jim(?)Bipolar w/Bunny Ears(?)Psychosis )~

And I blame my mother completely for this absolute blockage between me and the rest of my family.

And this is what I tried insisting again,  definitely even more dramatic this time, what was needing  to happen... figuratively.. where my life is concerned,  if cannot be guaranteed happening.. literally... anytime soon enough.

As children never really grow up until their parents die,

at least

MY MOTHER...

has to stay/remain in Arkansas.

That I do not want to ever again see her, hear from her, about her, even when sick and dying.

Nor even when she finally dies.

She has to die.

That,

I'm willing to at least try.

"Live for David!  Live for Donna!  Live for your two granddaughters! Live for your three great grandchildren!  

But...

 most definitely do not live for me! 

You can not have it all!" "

~(Simply Jim:  One Pearl, Total Pig, Anti-Christ :Another phone rant)~ 

If  my sister and the rest of my family feel they cannot come visit me here without bringing my mother along with them, or abiding by these other conditions,  

then I do not have to have them in my life either.

"Please g(0)d.

Don't let this person, 

this Rev. Dr. Alice Rogers who liked my devil ducks tie, 

be just another one who's stepped on a duck.

Haven't there been enough already?

You do understand, 

THAT I'M TRYING THE BEST I CAN, 

the only way I know how being in your service?

How many more can it be possible for any one single man 

able to bear...

 when living all eternity in the presence?"

~(Simply Jim: One Pearl, Total Pig, Anti-Christ.)~

***

Ducks in Heaven...

Three women die together in an accident and go to heaven. When they get there, St. Peter says, "We only have one rule here in heaven: don't step on the ducks!"

So they enter heaven, and sure enough, there are ducks all over the place. It is almost impossible not to step on a duck, and although they try their best to avoid them, the first woman accidentally steps on one.

Along comes St. Peter with the ugliest man she ever saw.

St. Peter chains them together and says, "Your punishment for stepping on a duck is to spend eternity chained to this ugly man!" The next day, the second woman steps accidentally on a duck and along comes St. Peter, who doesn't miss a thing. With him is another extremely ugly man. He chains them together with the same admonishment as for the first woman.

The third woman has observed all this and, not wanting to be chained for all eternity to an ugly man, is very, VERY careful where she steps.

She manages to go months without stepping on any ducks, but one day St. Peter comes up to her with the most handsome man she has ever laid eyes on ... very tall, long eyelashes, muscular, and thin. St. Peter chains them together without saying a word.

The happy woman says, "I wonder what I did to deserve being chained to you for all of eternity?"

The guy says, "I don't know about you, but I stepped on a duck!"