A man in Elders Quorum volunteered he was cleaning up after his kids.  The way he cleaned up their chicken mcnuggets is he popped them in his mouth.  An hour old, they were disgusting.  He says he craves fresh chicken mcnuggets, they are a real temptation for him, but no wonder they sit so heavy on his stomach.  Once they are no longer hot, he can taste how nasty they are.

Sin, he said, is chicken mcnuggets.

Anyone can become a wizard. They just have to create their own fully realized language to speak their commands in.

Anyone can write down their spells into spellbooks. They just have to create their own unique script to do it in.
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G. once told us the rest of the story for the Emperor’s New Clothes.  It’s good.  I went back and it predicts Black Lives Matter.

I want to talk about the back story.

Swindlers come in, talk up their new clothes, tell lies about how only good people can see the cloth, and then social pressure and lies do the rest.  Everyone pretends to see it and half-believes that everyone else has.

You can believe that in a story.  It wouldn’t happen that way in real life.

Unless the court were already used to lies and  manufacturing opinions and fashion and trying hard not to be caught out with the wrong set of beliefs.  (more…)

A boy was set to watch a flock. After awhile he saw a peculiar thing come creeping over the hill toward the flock.

It had a sheep’s skin and wool, slightly askew. But it walked strangely low the ground. There were glimpses of what seemed to be darker fur down below. It seemed to have sharp teeth. And its eyes were set straight ahead like a predator.

It’s hide could appear tilted a bit because of a spine condition, the boy reflected. The same spine condition could cause a peculiar walk. The darker fun could just be mud. The teeth, well, the animal is far away, perhaps I am mistaken. And wouldn’t it be wonderful if some few animals in the flock had far-away binocular vision like a predator the better to see predators sneaking up? Finally, who am I to judge? I must be charitable.

So,

“Sheep!” the boy cried.

A crow with a malicious twinkle in its eye suggested to a goat kid that it come play in some sewage run-off.

“But that’s sewage,” the kid said.

“Look on the bright side,” replied the crow.

“Well . . . it’s organic, and mostly water. I’d be 80% bathing in a stream. This is fine!” And in the kid went.

Moral: The wise man looks on the bright side of circumstances he cannot help. The fool looks on the bright side of circumstances he can.

The greatest festival of the kingdom is the releasing of the waters of growth from their reservoir in the mountains every spring.  Each family has their own little gate and their own channels that run to their land and on this special occasion, they release them all together.

The occasion is special for many reasons.  Tradition, the holiday sense of fun and excitement, the feasts, the games.  But most of all, it is the waters themselves.

These waters have strength and power beyond ordinary waters.  They are literally magical.   They carry a fresh scent with them, wiping out the must of winter.  Everywhere they go, the land brightens, the green of the plants deepen, and nature grows.  To drink from these waters is to be renewed.

The time of the waters is a time of joy, of renewal, of happiness, of spiritual peace.

The second greatest festival of the kingdom is releasing the waters at midsummer, when they bring furthered growth, coolness, and happiness and joy.

The third greatest festival of the kingdom is the final release at the end of the summer, when they soften the land, ripen the harvest, and gladden all hearts.

Well, not all hearts. (more…)

By chance three young men met at the beginning of the Path, the one true Path that runs east of the Moon and west of the Sun, the Path whose entrance is hidden and narrow.

Each marveled that he had found the Path and marveled that fate had sent him companions with which to travel it.

“Are you like me, gentlemen?”  the dark-haired one said.  “I found the path by reading old books and discovering the lies that modern scholars told.  I asked the questions they avoided and traced the logical implications that they refused to even acknowledge.  The gap in the leaves that leads here was hard to find, but it was there, and they said it was not.  So I walked through it.  Was it the same with you?”

“No!” the freckled one said brightly.  “One night I heard music.  I got up from my bed and followed it to a dark crossroads, where a voice from the wood told me to always follow signs and  my heart.  I rush in without thinking about the consequences, because I know it will be all right.  Today I saw a dove flying and it shone like it was purest gold.  A crow larger than I have ever seen rose up and attacked it.  I was angry, and called on the powers that be to drive off this crow, because the dove was fair and beautiful.  When I did, an eagle swooped down and struck the crow.  The dove flew on and I followed it here.”

The third one with yellow hair looked curiously at them both.  “I am here,” he said slowly, “because my grandfather and my father walked this path when they were my age.  They told me to come.  They showed me the way.”

The freckled one laughed.  “I love how different our stories are.  We should become companions on this Path.  It is obviously meant to be.”

The dark-haired one nodded.  “Mutual aid and taking advantage of unexpected good fortune such as this are policies that maximize expected value in outcomes.  It is not probable that our presence here at the same time is coincidence.”

The other boy agreed.  “Like my father and grandfather always said, ‘Journey with friends, you’ll all win your ends.'”

Then, because it felt right, because it was customary, because an understanding of evolved human nature suggested it would have positive effects on the primitive subconscious, they clasped hands and swore fellowship.

Once upon a time there was a kingdom so orderly that its laws and institutions had all sorts of branchings and variations, like a healthy, growing tree.

One of those odd little variations was the Christmas King. (more…)

I.

“Mottramism” is a term that Rod Dreher has periodically employed to denote an unreflective acceptance of eccesiastical authority. The term was coined by Mark Cameron, who describes it thus: (more…)

These build on each other.  We’ll start with the First Parable of Rule again.

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My muse has updated the parable of the Good Samaritan.  (more…)