my careless contagion

Hang on. This may be a rambling, sprawling, insipid post. I'm sick and about to dig into some Theraflu. Normally, I don't stay sick for long and bounce back quickly, but whatever this is took hold and continues to waste me week after week. I need someone to take care of me. So, this post may not make a whole lot of sense. Or it may be brilliant and you will give a standing ovation! Insert wacky emoji here. Regardless, I plan on feeling good momentarily. Got my heater on my feet. Got myself looking out a window at the sunshine. Let's go. I say I'm sick, but I'm not laid up in bed. I'm quite well enough to do everything I need to do and many things I want to do. But it's also clear it's gone on too long and avenues to fix it elude me. It may have a psychological basis, but I also can't figure that out. So I gave the situation to God. I'll be fine.  Thunderclouds is not a new song, but it is fairly recent. LSD is considered a supergroup of talented,...

Lewis Carroll photographed with a bevy of young children. Lewis Carroll is the pen name of a man named Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, known most for writing Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass . He died in 1898, so why is he still relevant? Is what he wrote that important? What is his legacy? Unfortunately, his legacy is a dark one.  This is not going to be an exhaustive account of the man's legacy. It is simply my thoughts on why he is still relevant today. Much has been written about the man and his legacy, and I don't intend to add another tome. However, as I was watching a movie last night (considered a horror film, which wasn't scary), this man's legacy reared its ugly head yet again. In the film, there was a ghost by the name of Alice, and her father's ghost's name was Henry. This was too much of a coincidence. As anyone who knows anything about Carroll and his Alice in Wonderland, there was a real-life girl named Alice. A...

With this post, I wrap up my photo memories (and, soon, this blog). I was originally going to share this photo with my Christmas memories. However, something caught my eye. And I'm not talking about whatever is on the surface of the photo. It's a great shot, probably taken by either my grandmother or a family friend. I was very young, and this was taken at our first house. I've ruined my fair share of family photos. I was always the one making faces or putting bunny ears on someone. It was typical lastborn stuff, though not always appreciated. No one cares anymore. But this photo is darn near perfect. Except I'm looking at my mom while everyone else is looking at the camera. I was enjoying the fact that everyone was happy for a moment. And that's what we forget: photographs are just moments. They don't always tell us the whole truth. But I can tell those smiles are genuine.  What I like about this photo, and this is why I chose to close with it, is it sho...

I have two older brothers. We are each separated by about 3.5 years. My oldest brother is seven years and seven days older than me. My blog has commented a lot on my childhood and what I now know were abusive aspects of it. However, it wasn't always abusive. There was a lot of love in my family. The photo dump in this post shows much affection. My father cradles a sleeping baby Joshua. My brothers are feeding me, playing with me, bathing with me, and, in general, doting over me. It may be a case of "they're cute when they're young," but it's hard to ignore this part of my reality. I was genuinely accepted and loved on when I was little. At the top, there appears to be some play-acting. I'm about three years old and wearing a diaper (without a cover) which I don't need. Am I baby Jesus? Is Jon Joseph with his coat of many colors? Something odd is going on, but we're having fun. And I'm thankful my diaper stayed up. Jon and I often took b...

The above photo shows a bit of family togetherness, with my dad's Honda road bike (a short-lived financial excursion) as the glue. Considering the financial difficulties at the time this photo was taken, it makes sense the bike was not a permanent fixture in our lives. I remember the one and only ride I took on this bike with my dad driving me home after school, me clinging for dear life, bobblehead helmet on, looking like some sort of alien. Hotel room stays always meant I got the rollaway bed or cot. Youngest children frequently get the short end of the stick, and not just genetically. Older siblings (especially the oldest) get the best of everything. Youngest children get leftovers if there are any. But I didn't know that at the time. I just thought I was special to have a different bed. I think the above photo was taken on our family trip to Disney World in the mid-80s. An awful lot of old photos show the three boys not wearing much. We must have been tremendously h...

I'm going to do something I rarely do, which is recommend those still reading this blog watch the above documentary called " Out of Shadows ," which runs about an hour and 20 minutes. This video has been put in front of me three times recently (it's making the rounds, apparently), which made me take notice, as my spirit halted me. Regardless of my convictions, though, decide for yourself whether or not the video is worth watching. It ends on a hopeful note, which is important because there is always hope. Nothing here is shocking to me. It talks about the following themes: CIA and NSA (US government in general) disinformation campaigns, occultism, Hollywood, mind control, politics, various so-called conspiracies such as Operation Paperclip, etc. Most of this information is extremely dated, as I've been aware of much of it most of my life. However, it is packaged well and is a good introduction to walk in a new awareness of reality. The subject matter is so br...