Arnaud Beltrame, heroic French police officer 1973-2018, by Slawomiro

Arnaud Beltrame, heroic French police officer 1973-2018, by Slawomiro

Arnaud Jean-Georges Beltrame (18 April 1973 – 24 March 2018) was a lieutenant colonel in the French Gendarmerie nationale and deputy commander of the Departmental Gendarmerie’s Aude unit. Beltrame was killed by a terrorist at Trèbes after having exchanged himself for a hostage.  Arnaud Beltrame was known as a devout Catholic and devoted police officer.  For his bravery and adherence to duty he was posthumously promoted to colonel and made a Commander of the Legion of Honour.

Saint Maximilian Kolbe, drawn by Slawomiro

Saint Maximilian Kolbe, drawn by Slawomiro

Saint Maximilian Kolbe (1894 – 1941) was a Polish Conventual Franciscan Friar who was sent to Auschwitz for hiding Jews during the Second World War. When the Nazi guards selected 10 people to be starved to death in punishment, Kolbe volunteered to die in place of a stranger. He was later canonised as a martyr. (source:biography online)

Growing Up Late

Download the full story for free on Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/905559

Chapter 1 – Old in Age but Young in Mind

Most people wish they could live forever the way they did when they were children. Zita was spoiled as a child even as an adult. When she did bad in school, her parents took her out of it permanently and taught her how to live by themselves. They gave her everything she wanted and more. Her parents were her only friends for most of her life until they died when she was thirty-five years old. She inherited their great wealth and did whatever she wanted.

Inspired by the internet, she played video games, reviewed anime and manga, and generally acted like your average attention whore on the web. To get even more attention, she intentionally put naked pictures of herself across the internet. In addition, she played and reviewed hentai video games, and recorded doing lewd things and put all of this on pornographic websites. All of this gave her the attention she wanted. She felt loved and important. She thought that as long as she did whatever her audience wanted, she would be happy forever.

Zita is forty-years-old now, but still dresses and looks like she’s in her early twenties. With her dressing style and makeup, she hides her age. Even though she’s a bit chubby because she never leaves her apartment, her fans like her because she’s “thicc” and that’s enough for her not to worry about her health. She even uses to entice people to make them think she likes wearing tight clothes even though it’s a bit uncomfortable. Her apartment is mostly a mess hidden by the few clean spots in it that she shows on camera. The rooms with her collections of comics, video games, anime, and movies are all spotless along with the room that she sleeps in that contain her figures. The apartment room smells like a weird mixture of candy and perfume to coat the stink of an unclean room.

Today is a strange day for her. Her front door is locked along with the windows. She can’t break them down nor can she call or text anyone. Her computer mysteriously won’t turn on as well even though she had it upgraded not too long ago.

“I need to think what to do over breakfast,” she says as she looks into the fridge only to find that it’s empty. “I could’ve sworn I bought food, drinks, and ingredients last week.”

Zita’s parents taught her how to breakfast, lunch, and dinner for herself, but she usually orders. Now with nothing to eat, she lays down on her couch, hungry, worried, and confused as to what is happening. This is when a large hand forms out of her wall. It opens its hand to reveal a mouth in the center of its palm.

The hand says to her, “Zita, I am the hand of judgment. You have yet to grow up and take responsibility for your actions.”

“I’m a good girl who doesn’t do anything wrong. What are you talking about?”

“You will see very soon. There’s a hole in your closet. Climb through it and you will escape your room to face your first challenge.”

“Challenge? Do I get a prize at the end?”

“If you win, you will grow up and live a better life. If you lose, you will suffer for all eternity.”

“And if I don’t accept the challenge?”

“You lose automatically, and you’ll have to rot to death in this apartment.”

“I’ll take the first option then.”

When she goes into her room, the hand of judgment follows her by forming out of the ceiling in her room.

“Are you going to be my guide?” Zita asks the hand.

“In a way, but I your choices will determine whether or not you will survive.”

“That’s peachy.”

Zita moves her clothes around and finds a large hole in it.

“You didn’t make the hole this large because you think I’m fat, do you?”

“It’s made with the intention of you going through it. Now go if you have decided to.”

Even though the hole is relatively large, Zita has some trouble going through it. It’s a tight fit that’s difficult to go through. She reaches the end of the tunnel after ten seconds of crawling. The tunnel has led her to a small aquarium with various kinds of fishes in the many tanks. Paintings of the many fishes are drawn swimming through the ocean on the walls. Above her is a curved glass ceiling that shows the night sky even though it was morning when Zita left her apartment.

“Okay, where to now?”

“You must reach the exit of this building while being hunted by a hunter who is modeled after yourself,” the hand tells her. It’s nowhere to be seen but its voice echoes through her mind.

“What’s this challenge supposed to prove?”

“That you’re honest about changing for the better.”

“This’ll be easy then. I’ve played so many hide-and-seek horror games already.”

Using her knowledge of horror games, Zita carefully walks through the aquarium while trying not to make any noise. The entire building is uncomfortably quiet so much so that she can hear the fish swimming in their glass casing. One of the fishes catches her attention. It’s a red Chinese fighting fish that is swimming by the end of the tank looking at her. Back in her youth, Zita wanted to study fish and take care of them, but when her patience for the subject wore out, she left it behind like so many other jobs that interested her. When she gets close to the fish, it hits the glass so hard that the noise reverberates through the building and leaves a crack in the glass. Another crack of glass is heard above Zita, as she looks up to see her monster. It drops from the ceiling and crashes into the floor unscathed.

The monster is huge as it takes up half the hallway. Its skinny pink clothes are so tight that its skin oozes a black liquid. The arms of the creature are thin, and its fingers are as long as Zita’s arms. Its legs are swollen from its thighighs along with its feet. Black veins pop out from the creature’s skin as well as its bony spine. Its hair is a dirty blond with a thin black bow on it. Pink makeup covers its broken face that has no eyes.

“If this is like those psychological games I played, then I can handle this!” Zita confidently says as she punches the hunchbacked monster in the face to no effect.

It grabs Zita and slams her into the ground multiple times then smashes her into a fish tank and drowns her. She wakes up in her bed and begins to vomit water. The water never stops coming out of her stomach, so she goes to the bathroom and almost fills up the tube with all of the water she vomits. This is the first time in a while that’s she felt any kind of real pain, any kind of defeat. Her appearance is now that of a woman in her late twenties with most of her makeup gone. The damage done to her was immense and is multiplied by the fact that she’s lived a comfortable life for all of it. Her nerves are shot, and her body convulses with panic.

In need of immediate relaxation, she takes out one of her sex toys and tries to use it, but a sharp black spike comes out of it and impales her from her crotch through to her head. Instead of dying immediately, it takes her body a few agonizing minutes of the worst pain to kill her. Again, she wakes up in her bed, but this time she feels completely dead inside. She can’t make herself feel better instantly. She’s died twice already without completing any of her challenges, and now she looks like she’s in her thirties with no makeup at all. Despair has its grips on her, freezing her in thought.

The hand of judgment says, “You will need to grow up if you want to survive this. Get up and try again. If you don’t, then you’ll suffer forever because of your previous actions. Decide.”

The black and whiteness of her choices force her to move out of her bed and back into the aquarium. Zita doesn’t let anything distract her this time. Her monster still jumps down from the ceiling, but this time she runs and hides. The monster cannot smell her, and its vision is very limited, so it focuses more on sound than anything else. It overcomes some of its disabilities by smashing whatever hiding spots that Zita could hide under. Because of this, she is forced to go from hiding spot to hiding spot until she realizes that she’s close to the exit. When she sees it, she makes a break for it and makes it through the exit right before it catches her.

Upon exiting the aquarium, Zita finds herself back in her apartment standing in front of her front door as if she just went through it. She tries opening the door and finds that it’s still locked from the inside. After the challenge, she falls to the floor in tears.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Zita admits to herself.

“Of course you can. You just made it through the first challenge. That shows me that you have a chance of getting through the rest,” the hand of judgment says with a stern but caring voice. “Now get up. Another challenge awaits you and the main vice that damages you and the people you affect.”

“Oh boy. What fun,” Zita miserably says.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2 – Hunter and the Hunter

“Where did you make the next exit?” Zita asks with a dry voice.

“Just go through that door,” the hand says as it points towards it.

Zita smiles a bit as she remembers what’s behind the door. A spark in her mind wakes her conscience up and makes her think that what she loves to do might be wrong.

“You know what’s behind that door,” the hand says, “Your vices will destroy you if you don’t let go of that destructive force within yourself.”

“I…I don’t know if I can…but I have to try, right?”

“You have to not only try but accomplish it. There must be no hesitation in your decision or else you will die.”

Zita has never had so much pressure on her. Her body still doesn’t feel the same after the two painful deaths she suffered. She can feel a change happening in her mind and body.

“What you’re feeling is change. It feels painful, but it is good for you,” the hand notes as it notices her pain.

“I hope so. If I have to go through these challenges, then I will.”

Zita opens the door and ends up in a park with the sun setting. The gates around the park are locked and the edges of the fences are sharp and could cut anything that touches it.

“You remember this park, don’t you?” the echoing voice of the hand asks.

“I do. It was a fun place to be in.”

“But you never used the park as most people use it.”

“I did. I met people here. Tons of boys that wanted to be my friend.”

“You did more than become friends with them. Even though the sun is setting, it will soon rise up again. Stay alive until then.”

Zita quickly looks for a hiding spot and places in the dark to stay.

“What? No quip about your video games?”

“Huh? Oh uh…I don’t have one right now.”

After looking around, Zita finds a spot to hide in. It’s a small hollow out hump that people like to climb and sit on. It’s covered by trees and there is a little scattering of boulders and rocks nearby that are left there from the park’s construction. The deafening silence sets in as Zita hides within the lump and waits. An hour seemingly passes before a murder of crows is disturbed. They fly into the sky and away from whatever spooked them. Looking deeper into the darkness, she sees her monster creeping through it. It moves quietly despite its large size though it doesn’t appear to know where Zita is, for now.

Even though she isn’t in any immediate danger, Zita’s heart starts beating fast and her monster appears to pick up on it. Seeing that it’s reacting to her heart, she calms down by thinking in jokes. She reminds herself of the small good times she had playing games, which had her in similar situations to this, but not as deadly of course. Her efforts rewarded her with dozens of “friends” because of her simple ability to play video games and react to them in front of a camera.

She then began to think to herself, “That is a pretty shallow thing to do that most people try on the internet nowadays to become famous and rich. I’m not as special as I think I am for doing the same thing they are. Maybe there’s something more I can do with the talents I have. Maybe I can get new ones that’ll do more for people.”

After thinking for a bit, Zita notices that it’s getting brighter outside. The thought then hits her that she survived the last challenge by not messing around and dedicating herself to changing, so she continues thinking.

“My parents were very smart people and saved up money until they could live on it without having to work for the rest of their lives. They even saved up enough for me to live on their inheritance for the rest of my life as well. I can do things with the money I have and not worry too much about failing once or twice. They were really good parents, but…do I really want to give up this life? Everything that I love in it. Everything that makes me happy. Everything that gives me…pleasure…”

A small shriek is made from the darkness. A horde of five childlike creatures emerge from the trees. They have blank faces and parts of their flesh missing like a jigsaw puzzle. Something about these creatures stirs a part of Zita. She starts to feel hot and she starts to rub her arms. This feeling gets so extreme until she feels like she wants to touch herself more sexually. Zita resists until she lets the feeling overwhelm her. This is when her monster and the creatures know where she is.

Unfortunately, Zita is trapped within her lust and has to fight for control over herself. It isn’t until the monsters are right on top of her until she’s able to run away. She regrets giving herself up to her temptations as she runs through scattered rocks. Her monster crashes through what’s ever in its way while the children leap all around her, trying to find an opening to attack her from. Eventually, she runs out of cover and a child manages to cut off her right leg with one swipe. Time begins to move slowly as the rest of her limbs are cut off by the creatures.

“What did I do to deserve this? Am I really as good as parents always said I was?”

The creatures then tear out her eyes then her jaw along with all of her teeth. Her breasts are torn out as well with her ears and nose while the rest of her body is cut at until she is nothing more than a bloody mess that looks more like a pig than human. Despite her injuries, she’s still clinging to life and the sun is still trying to rise, so there’s still a chance that she might win.

“I regret what I did. I see why it’s wrong now. I’ll give it up not because I want the pain to end, but because it’s the right thing to do.”

The sun then begins to rapidly rise as her monster stands over her. It picks her up and tears her body in two just as the sun takes its place in the sky. Zita wakes back up in her room.

The hand says, “Because of what you said, you passed your challenge just barely. Congratulations.”

Zita gets on her knees and bows before the hand.

“I’m sorry for everything I’ve done! Even though I don’t think I can bring myself to get rid of my vices, please give me the strength to do so.”

“That will be done. Because you have shown humility, you will no longer be killed as long as you continue showing it. Now go into that room and release him.”

“Okay.”

Zita enters the bedroom next to hers to release the young boy she has captive. The boy is a fan of hers who she managed to meet up with. She usually tries to meet her young fans that are boys to have sex with them. This boy, in particular, told his parents that he would be away for a while with his friends. Zita’s been using him as her personal sex doll for almost a week now. There were some boys that stayed for entire summers tied up and under Zita’s control because they were captured by her degenerate influence.

She unchains the boy and gives him back his clothes and what he came with.

“What is it, Zita? You seem stressed. Are we going to go out together?”

“No, you’re going to have to go.”

“Why? Am I boring you? Maybe there’s something I can do to change your mind.”

The boy tries touching Zita inappropriately, but she smacks his hand away.

“No! I’m sorry I did this to you. It was wrong of me to do this to you and so many other young boys.”

“But I liked it and I thought you did too.”

“I did, but that’s changed, and you should too. You shouldn’t let people take advantage of you like this. You’re a smart boy who should be doing more with his life than just looking for sex.”

“Oh…well. Um…”

“Go home to your parents and live a better life.”

“Okay. Will I ever see you again?”

“You shouldn’t, but if you do, I’m not going to be the same.”

“Alright…well. Goodbye then.”

The young boy hugs Zita, takes his stuff, then leaves the apartment. Zita walks up to the door and tries opening it but finds that it is locked again as it only let out the boy.

The hand says to her, “Do you really believe the reason why you are wrong?”

“Not really. Every boy I was with consented to me.”

“Not every boy consented to you. You aren’t even allowed to have sex until you are wedded. There’s a man about your age a couple rooms down that you make small talk to. He’s interested in you, but you’ve barely given him any attention. Are you so sick that only boys thirty years younger than you are the only kind that interest you?”

Zita looks into a mirror to see that she almost looks her exact age.

“But I made them feel happier, didn’t I? I’ve had so many boys tell me how happy they were when they were with me. I’ve made so many friends because of it.”

“You still have a lot of change to go through.”

Zita sighs then says, “Then change me. I’m ready.”

 

 

 

Chapter 3 – Deadly Ignorance

The hand of judgment says, “If you are to truly change, then must accept what you are not. You must die in a manner of speaking.”

“I’m used to dying.”

“Physically yes, but not in terms of your personality. That part must die.”

“How do I do that?”

“Admit where you are wrong. This next challenge will help you do that.”

“Okay. Where’s the next uncomfortable hole I need to crawl through?”

“You don’t need to go anywhere.”

“Sweet.”

“You won’t think it’s so “sweet” when the challenge starts.”

“What do you mean?”

Zita is immobilized and falls onto her floor.

“Ow. I guess my floors are a bit too dirty. I do have to clean myself up a bit.”

“That’s only part of it, which I’m glad you’re seeing.”

“Is it because I’m lazy? Do I watch too much anime and play too many video games?”

“You can keep your comics and video games. Just get rid your pornographic materials including the things you have on the web. You’re allowed to have your leisurely activities as long as you keep it in moderation.”

“Alright. I can do that. Is there anything else I should know?”

“If you’re able to think about it, then you can be released from this challenge before it starts.”

“Umm…Ahhh…I got nothing.”

“Then your next challenge starts now. Everything that happens to you is in your mind. Nothing you see is true. Nothing you feel is real. Keep that in mind and you will survive.”

“What I’m imagining for this challenge, isn’t too good.”

“You have the right idea.”

“Wait-Nevermind…I’ll go through it.”

“Good.”

The hand retracts itself into the wall as Zita awaits what she knows it coming. She can hear something moving within the walls of her apartment. It sounds like the childlike creatures are coming for her. They sound like they’re splitting up into different groups to find an opening in the wall to enter through. Their claws scratch at the inside of the walls and break little bits and pieces out of it, but they are unable to break through the walls or find an entrance in.

A few minutes of nerve-wracking seconds pass by with nothing happening. The creatures don’t make any noise, nor can they be seen through the holes they made. Zita then begins to feel something strange stirring within her. A pain that feels unnatural that’s coming from places that these pains shouldn’t be coming from. She calms herself down and reminds herself that nothing she is feeling is real. This calms down her pain, but it doesn’t get rid of the sensation.

Four child creatures then emerge from her body. Her ears, mouth, and stomach to be specific. These places of her body expand beyond what their limits are and yet they don’t break. Zita feels the pain of these creatures clawing their way out of her and her mind is tempted to think this is real despite the absurdity of it. The pain is intense and numbs her senses and reason. She starts to sweat blood from the stress of the situation as her body begins to think that this pain is real.

Zita wrangles control of herself and thinks, “I…I can’t think this is real! It-it just isn’t!”

Her pain subsides again though the sensations still remain. The four creatures are now outside of her body that is back to the way it was before as if the creatures never emerged from it. They stand over her and start to caress her body like a massage therapist looking for tension and stress in a person. The creatures then begin to cut bits and pieces of her skin out. Each piece of skin cut out is more painful than the last, but she stays strong.

Seeing that she’s won’t even scream, the creatures then begin to cut parts of her body like they did in their first appearance. First, her arms go. Then her legs. Then her eyes. Zita closes her eyes after they’ve been plucked out and is afraid to open them up as the creatures slowly run their claws all around her body.

“I…I don’t know if I can do this anymore!” she thinks to herself as the pain worsens.

“Remember, Zita. Are you going to put yourself first? Or what is truly right?” the hand says.

“I’ll…I don’t always know what’s right, so…I put my trust in what is actually right.”

“Then open your eyes.”

Zita opens her eyes to see that she can see. The creatures have disappeared along with her injuries. She can now stand up perfectly fine as if nothing happened at all. Her room now seems to be clean and whatever blemishes she had on her body are gone as well.

The hand then reappears out of the wall, “Your faith has healed you.”

“Oh, that’s what that was. I understand now.”

“But do you? Can you tell me what you did wrong?”

“I’m afraid I’m a bit slow. I can’t word it correctly.”

“Instead of wanting to learn what is truly good, you stuck yourself in the willful ignorance of your parents.”

“My parents weren’t good people? They helped so many people in their careers and made me happy for the rest of their lives.”

“Fool. They were self-righteous hypocrites who only helped those who helped them, and you perfectly took after them. If you weren’t so ignorant to the truth, then you would’ve been struck down by now by your own hand.”

“I’m still struggling to understand where I went wrong.”

“Keep in mind the lesson you learned. That what is truly good is better than what you have in mind. Don’t play God with your decisions by thinking you have equal or better solutions than God has.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“But you have along with most people who say the same thing. They’re nothing but children who live in their own fantasies where they dictate what’s right and wrong, even if they say it’s from God. Do you want proof? You will see the fruits of the tree you’ve planted in your final challenge.”

“Will it be more painful than the last?”

“It will, but in a different way than you’re thinking.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4 – The Death and Rebirth of Self

“Where’s this final challenge of mine?” Zita asks the hand of judgment.

“You already know where it is. It is in the only room you didn’t go in yet.”

“What about that room?”

“Don’t be so ignorant. You know what’s special about it that separates it from the other room you freed that captive boy from.”

“It’s my recording room.”

“The last time you used it you recorded a pornographic video in it, and I’m sure the boy you recorded it with has yet to come out.”

“He…I guess consent doesn’t matter.”

“It’s not the consent that matters the most in this situation. It’s what you did to the poor boy. Go and free him.”

“Alright.”

“You knew you were going to have to do this. Clean up your mess now before your soul decays further.”

Zita enters her recording room and frees the boy she has strapped to a small bed. He has a gag around his mouth, a cloth around his eyes, and his arms and legs are tightly constricted to parts of the bed. With the removal of each strap, Zita remembers what happens to a particular boy. She saw him one day after traveling away from another boy she had just “entertained”. This boy looked special to her. A kind that she had never tasted. Wanting another boy to satisfy her rising desires, she took the boy aside with promises of large sums of money. The two were alone where no one would bother them then tried to entice the boy to have sex with her.

He respectfully denied her, something that she had not known. No boy had ever rejected her, no one told her she couldn’t have what she wanted. Zita tried everything she could to seduce him to submit to her, but he never did. She then forced herself onto him and had her way with him. He tried fighting back with a self-defense knife. Even though the knife could’ve easily killed Zita, she was too much for him as she made him drop his knife. After having her way with him for over an hour, she finally let him go and cleaned herself up.

“Wasn’t that fun?” she asked the boy while she was still in ecstasy.

The boy, after being defiled for so long, had been mentally damaged beyond repair. He grabbed his knife and cut his own throat. Zita tried to save him but there was nothing she could do. There was no way for her to deliver the boy’s body to his parents without the consequence of her being arrested after, so she buried his body and possessions, and left the area. There were many other boys like this one, but no other had killed themselves after because she got them all to submit themselves to her.

This boy that Zita has in her recording room is one of her fans. He only knew of her normal content since her more degenerate content was a secret among her fanbase. The only people that know about it are her diehard fans that lust after her. This boy was offered to stay with Zita for a long period of time, so he could learn from her what he could do to become moderately internet famous like her, and he learned more than he wanted to. He’s been trapped here for two days now and has somewhat submitted to Zita’s lusts.

The hand says, “How many boys have you turned into degenerates? They do nothing but look at pornography, have premarital sex, and rape like you do. Their souls are so severely damaged that it will take years to properly fix them. Now you know why your treatment has been so severe.”

The weight of Zita’s sins finally has their effect on her body as she kneels before the hand. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve done! Please, God, forgive me!”

“Bring this boy back to his parents then talk to the man two doors down from you. You’re blessed in that the boy doesn’t live too far from here.”

“Wait, I can’t be forgiven if I talk to God directly?”

“You can’t. You don’t have that privilege. Your soul will be damned forever if you don’t confess and do penance.”

“I thought I was saved forever after being baptized and accepting God as my savior.”

“Another lie that your parents taught you. That lie has damned so many souls to Hell and created so many hypocrites.”

The boy is unconscious and isn’t able to wake up.

“The boy won’t remember what you did to him after you do what I told you. If you don’t do what I tell you, then all of your sins will be exposed to the world and you will be executed then sent to burn forever.”

“I’ll do it! I’ll carry him home, just show me where he lives.”

The hand puts Zita’s head in its mouth which shows her exactly where the boy lives. She dresses him in his clothes, picks him up, and runs out the door. It’s currently nighttime and raining now. Zita doesn’t have a car so she has to run in the rain. She avoids attention from other people and uses the darkness and rain as cover as she did before when she took in random boys. Her lusts tempt her to go back to her apartment and forget about what the hand told her. She rejects them, which frustrates the demons within herself causing her to feel pain.

Her lusts manifest themselves into creatures with vaginal faces, male sex organs, enticing bodies, and sharp claws. They form themselves from the darkness and chase after her. Their speed allows them to quickly catch up to Zita so they can claw at her back. They tempt her to let go of the boy and give him to them, but she resists again. This constant cycle of temptations and pain continues until she reaches the boy’s house. She lays him at the front door, knocks and rings the doorbell. After hearing someone coming, she runs away as her lusts continue to swipe at her until they cut off her head.

Zita wakes up in her bed to a new morning. She rubs her face a couple times to make sure it’s there. After that, she looks into the mirror to see that she still retains the younger than her actual age look, but something about her looks different, brighter. Inside her closet, she finds clothes more proper to wear. She puts on a simple shirt and skirt then goes online to find that all of her pornographic content has been scrubbed from the internet much to her relief. She then exits her apartment to find the man the hand told her about. He smiles as she timidly approaches him.

“Hello, Zita,” he says, “How are you doing this fine morning?”

“I’m doing good. How are you?”

“I’m great now that you’re talking to me. I’m a big fan of your show online. I can’t entertain an audience like you can.”

“It’s nothing. I’m sorry for never paying much attention to you.”

“Don’t be. I’m sure you’re a busy woman.”

“It’s not that. Ummm. I’d like to get to know you better-if that’s okay with you.”

“Oh, that’s fine with me. I’m actually going to confession now. Do you want to come? We’ll have breakfast together then we can go out wherever you want.”

“I’ll come with you, but we can do whatever you want.”

“Sure. There are these great places in town that I know you’ll love.”

“Take me there then. It’s going to be your treat though.”

“I wouldn’t be a man if I didn’t treat a lady like you.”

 

The End

A Catholic self-published author that writes to entertain and teach. Writes mostly horror, fantasy, and short story fiction.

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#RedPillReligion: Taboo Thoughts for Taboo Topics

“Taboo Topics” tells us why she’s never coming back to Christianity. Without trying to talk her out of it, we’d like to point some things out to her.

Taboo Topics Why I Left Christianity https://youtu.be/qsjeSRJOnBQ

Books Some Might Find Taboo: Why God Won’t Go Away: Brain Science and the Biology of Belief https://smile.amazon.com/Why-God-Wont…

Peer Reviewed NDERF Data (including accounts of Hell): https://nderf.org/

Born Believers: The Science of Children’s Religious Belief https://smile.amazon.com/Born-Believe…

Faith of the Fatherless: The Psychology of Atheism https://smile.amazon.com/Faith-Father…

Friendly Atheist says: A Decade After Atheists Were Found to be the Most Disliked Group in the Country, Little Has Changed (2016) http://friendlyatheist.patheos.com/20…

University of Minnesota: Atheists Remain Most Disliked Religious Minority in the US https://twin-cities.umn.edu/news-even…

The Invisible Hi-Vis Airport Men

Last winter, I had an IT contract in London which required me to get a daily train into town at 5.30am. The coaches were filled with men in high-vis jackets reading the Sun or the Mail and drinking hot coffee from Thermos flasks. There were very few women on those early morning trains.

Many of the men got off at Gatwick Airport, to prepare the terminals for the day’s flights.

These are the invisible men without whom the modern world would crumble.

These men are celebrated in the Book of Ecclesiasticus (Chapter 38):

They are not remarkable for their culture or judgement, nor are they found frequenting the philosophers. They sustain the structure of the world, and their prayer is concerned with their trade.

Please take some time to go to the link above and reflect on the words of the passage.

They sustain the structure of the world, and their prayer is concerned with their trade.

It is remarkable that the people on that early morning train through Gatwick were mostly men. It is significant that among the least philosophical, least intellectually active men, there is an instinct to develop the skills for this work. Few women seem to possess that instinct. This is raw, essential Masculinity.

Feminism does not have much effect among such men: their wives appreciate the hard work they do, and are not too proud to fill their men’s sandwich boxes and Thermos flasks with good nourishment.

These are the men who voted for Brexit and Trump, against the wishes of the elite classes who see them as irrelevant, while making use of the airports that these men wake up so early to prepare.

How to Become a Man: Creating Order From Chaos

God was in the beginning, creating the Heavens and the Earth.
The Earth was without form and void and darkness was on the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters.

The first verses of the Bible set the tone. The purpose of God is to create order from chaos. This makes God unapologetically Masculine.

Every good masculine archetype emphasises the alignment with Order over against Chaos.

The masculine purpose is to work with God to create order out of chaos.

This work is specifically and intuitively masculine.

We live in a society with a serious problem: the suppression of the masculine instinct. Our institutions have suffered from a ‘long walk’ of Leftists with a Feminist ideology inserting themselves at key nodes within hierarchies. These Leftists then use the power of the institutions to enforce a gender ideology that seeks to eliminate the Masculine.

All cultures have traditions that teach boys how to become men. The Leftists have used their positions of power to destroy our versions of these traditions.

When I was a boy I went to an all-male Church of England high school where we sang hymns such as Fight the Good Fight and To Be A Pilgrim. Feminists have taken over the Church of England hierarchy and feminised it so that such hymns have been banished.

The masculine virtues were embedded in the culture of my school but schools these days have jettisoned such politically incorrect virtues.

In a previous era of masculine crisis, Lord Baden Powell started the Boy Scouts. His organisation is now open to girls.

Boys now need new guidance on how to become men.

Jordan B Peterson has made some excellent lectures and written a well-needed book subtitles an antidote to chaos but he does not go far enough because he is still in the Enlightenment Liberal mode of thinking.

There is a deeper, broader truth that boys need to know:

The Masculine spirit is about creating order from chaos in a way that is in harmony with the essence or nature of things and is done with and in love.

To understand and unpack that, in my next few blogs I will be working through some passages from the Bible and classical literature.

Tyrannical Patriarchy or Co-operative Patriarchy?

Feminism is based on a half-truth: Patriarchy has reigned supreme for the entire history of peoplekind and in every culture.

The half-lie is this: Patriarchy is inherently tyrannical and must therefore be destroyed.

Feminism reveals to us that the human condition is patriarchal. However, if it is always as tyrannical as they believe, then why did the rebellion against it only start in the 1800s? (It will not surprise the astute reader to learn that Feminism emerged from the energies of the French Revolution.)

It was the extraordinary events around the Kavanaugh confirmation process that triggered me to start blogging on Feminism and the thoughts I have been having since I first encountered it nearly 30 years ago.

The final scene of the final act of that drama saw women banging inchoately and futilely against the heavy oak doors of the Supreme Court. This scene was more than symbolic: it was rage against what they saw as a tyrannical Patriarchy that was out to deny the women their validity.

I have blogged before about the tyranny of Feminism. This article is about the tyrannical potential in Patriarchy. I believe that the most ardent feminists are those who have experienced tyrannical fathers and who have inherited their tyrannical natures, either through their genes or through their modelling. Indeed, I have observed this in Feminists I have known. They resent the tyrannical power of their family Patriarch but also desire to have it for themselves. This dynamic in their psyches allows them to be victim-tyrants or cry-bullies.

Given that the human condition does appear to be patriarchal, what should we do about it? Railing against it and trying to change it through forced cultural engineering simply leads to social fracturing and serious familial distress.

This is where we need the Bible and the orthodox traditions that are consistent with the Bible tradition. The Bible is not simply an old book of random rules but an ancient tradition, perhaps the oldest extant tradition, that reveals patterns of how we should orientate ourselves with regard to Reality (to borrow an expression from Jordan B Peterson).

The Bible tradition is against tyranny of any kind, so we can quickly see that both tyrannical Patriarchy and tyrannical Feminism are out of sync with the the Bible.

The story of the Book of Ruth provides an excellent model for how a non-tyrannical Patriarchy can work.

In conclusion: smashing the Patriarchy and replacing it with tyrannical Feminism runs against the human condition as we experience it and as revealed in the Bible; trying to impose a tyrannical Patriarchy also runs against the Bible tradition. The only kind of Patriarchy that can work is one that is voluntary and co-operative and based on mutual care and respect.

Orthodox Religion is the Antidote to Feminism

My journey to Eastern Orthodoxy has run in parallel with my fight against Feminism.

My fight against Feminism is not about a fight against the natural civil rights of women to be equal under the law but a fight against the suppression of masculinity in our culture.

Masculinity brings order and structure to our social life and the more it is suppressed, the more chaotic life becomes.

We can see this in the inchoate hammering at the doors of the Supreme Court in Washington after the confirmation of Kavanaugh.

‘The Sergeant At Arms will restore order in the gallery’ will go down in history after Vice President Mike Pence repeatedly stated it during the final vote on Kavanaugh’s fate.

Anyone wishing to restore order in their life will find the power to do so in Orthodoxy.

Mainstream Western Christianity is complicit in the suppression of masculinity. The Anglican Church is stripping its liturgies of masculine language and removing the requirement of married couples to be male and female. The other mainline denominations are doing the same.

Western Christianity, by being Western, is in the same muddied pool as the rest of Western culture.

The Orthodox Church is a hospital for the spiritually sick … and we are all spiritually sick.

The Orthodox Church of Antioch has a specific mission to Westerners looking to reconnect with original Christianity. My road to Orthodoxy took me to the Antiochian Church but there are other Orthodox traditions that remain in accordance with the Scriptures.

Oriental Orthodox churches such as the Armenian and Coptic churches are also places where you will find a tradition that continues in accordance with the scriptures.

If you are outside Christianity, of course I would say to you that Christ is the fulfilment of your tradition, but if you haven’t come to that point, I suggest going back to the orthodox forms of your own religion. Orthodox Judaism remains true to the Torah. Theravada Buddhism, unlike the California style of Buddhism, is true to the original scriptures of the Buddha and is in harmony with the moral structure of the universe. Taoism is certainly an antidote to Feminism in the way it balances male and female. Traditionalist movements in the Roman Church are a particularly powerful development in this regard and I would encourage Roman Catholics to support these movements.

If you are looking for the antidote to Feminism, Orthodoxy is where you will find it.