Author: pentacular

Men of reason have always found,
That all good things come from the soil, from simple ground.
And from thence plants grow by sweat and toil,
The hallowed fruits spring up from well tilled soil,
Oft planting helped by unknown hand,
That made the plough to till the land.
And so shall Sion faithful yield, her thousand sacred sweets,
Should men not reason, know it now,
They shall walk alone, shall starve, in corpse filled streets.

R.G.Crosbie
© 12/5/2009

When life is no longer ruled by and through reason, and only by and through unreason, then life itself is in danger. When life is ruled by and through belief, which is manufactured unreason, and contradictory to logic, then life will be forfeit, and must come to a tragic and unnecessary end.
Such it is, as we now stand at this the ending of man’s days, which could have been and still can be avoided. Mankind has the necessary brains and skill to do great things, as he has proven. Unfortunately, he appears to have a need to believe in things fantastic, and bigger than himself.
Because of this weakness, he has been led by those among him who only seek to rule and lead him into the quicksands of wild belief and fantasy. He has forgotten reason. Logic has become a strange thing that must fit his beliefs, no matter how ridiculous those beliefs may be. He has lost his way. The price of this his base stupidity shall be dire. His children shall curse him with their last breath, for his wanton and blind stupidity. He has drunk from the cup of his inability to overcome the brainwashing processes of his religious leaders, who lead him not into temptation, but instead into eternal damnation; that eternal damnation of none-existence. He has drunk also from the cup of his overwhelming unwillingness to embrace sweet reason, so, wallowing in fantasy, where fantasy has no place or part to play.
Drink deeply, you mankind. Drink deeply from the cup of your belief. Stay drunk on your ridiculous fantasies, and on your baseless beliefs. Soon you will be sober, because reality stalks you. Reality will win, and the hangover will be painful. And mankind will die and be no more, as he destroys all, even to his children's now-denied future. Denied, as with all things, by that which suits him to believe or not believe.

R.G.Crosbie

© 12th February 2010

Who’s Mad?

It is said by the church of Rome that The Way was the faith of Jesus, so why don't they follow it?
Why invent something else?
I have faith that the sun will rise tomorrow. because I've seen the evidence each day of my life.
I have faith that if I plant potatoes I will harvest a crop, because I always have, year after year. Sometime good, sometime bad, but they've been there, a crop none the less. Such faith is based on evidence and experience, certainly not blind.
The sun might not rise tomorrow, but it's very unlikely.
I could get blight in my potatoes, but as long as I spray them ,everything will be OK. It always is.
To have faith in God where there is no evidence of a god; and plenty of evidence that there isn't one, defies reason. To go against reason is more than just stupid, it's dangerous.
To stray from the paths of certain knowledge ,of reason, of logic and provable truths, is folly beyond folly.
To have faith that Jesus was born of a virgin, when we know for a fact that he was a child of the quill, also defies reason. The first is impossible; the second very likely.
So why believe the impossible?
Why accept without question that which cannot possibly be true, as truth.?
Why does the church of Rome and its satellite Christian religions, and all the other churches, want you to have faith in things that defy all reason, fact or science?

What defines a mad person? Perhaps someone who hears voices? Someone who sees things that aren't there? Someone with unreasonable ideas and actions, like talking to yourself, or talking to someone who isn't actually there? Maybe their invisible friends are there; and you just can't see them? Perhaps only he or she can see and hear them.
How do you know?
Madness is defined as any behaviour which is unacceptable to society. Plenty of room for interpretation there. You had better be careful, or they might lock you up.
Perhaps you had better conform? That's a safe way, but is it wise?

So who’s mad? Someone praying to a god that obviously isn't there? Someone not praying to a god that isn't there? Unreal and only imagined.
Perhaps someone who believes that their god will always provide, in spite of all the death from hunger we see around the world?
Maybe someone who refuses to believe anything without evidence, is mad?

Are you mad?
Am I mad?
If so, then who says so; and by what criteria?
Maybe they're mad?

Then maybe we don't really exist. Maybe I am just a spirit drifting and imagining that I exist and that you exist.
Maybe you don't exist and you're just imagining that you do.
Do you know fore sure, or haven't you ever though about it? What's real I mean?
Perhaps you just imagine that I exist, because you’re reading this? Someone wrote it.
Maybe I do exist somewhere out there, or maybe you just imagine that you’re reading this?
Who’s mad? The one who asks the questions, or the one who just accepts without any proof, evidence, or certainty of fact?
Perhaps the one who only believes, is mad?
Perhaps science is mad, and only belief is sane and logical?
Where will you put your money, as you probably value your money more than your life? You being a reasonable person.
You may even think that you can't exist without money, but if so, how do you manage without life?
What value do you put on your life, or the lives of those that you profess to love?
What stakes/steaks are you comfortable with, apart from beef?
Where will you put your money in the great competition for existence?
Maybe you're really betting your life?
Mad, isn't it?

Then again……….?

© R.G.Crosbie
12th February 2010

When I was still a child, there was no childish play.
All was work and learning until the ending of each day.
To me it was a pleasing thing, as all my mind was set towards my goal,
To learn, to teach, to question and so to make men whole.

Bent serious to learn, to know,
From there to do what Nazarenes desired of me.
Myself thought born with high caul towards that hallowed end,
To live in silent solitude, without a friend.

Born to promote all precepts of The Way
To promote all knowledge, reason, and all right-proven things,
Therefore I remained above my tender years,
Allowing my mind to fly on soaring wings.

Studying the mindless laws of gods and man,
Bitter was the flavour, as sweet justice knew no home,
Priests among better men did blend,
And all their laws directed, towards their own desired and selfish end.

I made learning of truths my whole delight,
Hopeful to grow within that knowledged light.
Still young and small went I, innocent and blind,
There to hear the teachings of just law; and so expand my mind.

And to lodge within my mind,
What might improve the knowledge that was mine.
I sat, so many times pondering what I heard,
Each truth so different, as preached by each conceited, mindless herd.

Yet all speak as though the truth was theirs alone.
And fought like dogs to self possess this cherished bone.
Yet all was lies and made no sense,
The boundary’s limits careless crossed o'er wilful, broken fence.

No lines of reason did I see,
But lies, deceit, and tricks, designed to fetter such as you and me,
And hide real truth in darkness where none might see,
Designed to keep their power intact,
Ignoring truths, whilst using lies and rituals,
And so to hide all honest fact.

R.G. Crosbie.

© 15/5/09

Wrong not the bearers of the hallowed cauls,
Who breathe sweet reason born from the hallowed crystal halls.
And walk not amongst the realm of that where understanding lacks,
Think well, and let good reason rule, lest lack of reason break your backs.

Hold fast to reason, hold her near,
For it's good reason that the powerful fear,
That same proclaimed sweet reason so obscure,
Ignoring, careless, risking all; to benefit the Roman whore.

Sweet reason stands against those injured rights,
Whilst lack of justice, all things hallowed blights.
And mankind in wrath shall sore resent,
Against unjust laws that make man’s life misspent.
By reason alone shall salvation build,
Against the fateful day, all men who trust in gods and priests alone, be killed.

Once again we stand at the threshold of a new year. Most of you will know what I'm up to. I'm told that I'm mad, but I already know that, so I won't argue the point. It may appear mad, but it is necessary if any of us are to survive the future into a further more secure future. Whatever future we may have, we will not see if nothing is done. Remember that the wages for doing nothing is nothing. So look to your reasons, or lack of actual reason for doing nothing. Beware of excuse which is by definition a lie. Holding on to what you believe that you have, won't help you. You own nothing in reality; you only have a lend of it.
Without life, what will you or your children have? How will you feel when you see them suffer the coming world problems and you know that you were offered and had an opportunity, yet stuck your head in the sand and did nothing?
I am not mad. I even have proof that I'm not. I arranged it deliberately to allay the accusation against me. Apparently my I.Q is still quite high. My health is rubbish, but that doesn't mean that what I have to say is wrong. It just means that the risk to me and mine is greater.
Commitment, as well as the intelligence slightly north of that of a carpet slipper, is needed in order to realise that what I have been saying to everyone for years is happening right before your eyes, and will go on getting worse. Climate change cannot be reversed, as they would like you to “Believe”. There is no magic switch. People are already starving and starvation can and will only gather momentum and cannot, by any stretch of imagination, improve.
So, again I ask those of you still sitting on your hands, to think. Here my responsibility to you all ends. The choice is yours. If your ability to reason has not been completely neutered through belief in the unbelievable, you have a chance. If not, you are lost. The clock is ticking, and you will not be asked again. Time to dither about and hope it will all go away, you do not have. To those who hear me, and always have, I wish you all a Happy New Year and long future for you and yours; and let's get it done. To those who keep on as usual, may I offer my sympathy in advance; though not too far in advance. People make the wrong choices every day, but this one is a fatal one.

The Son of the Widow

The Hallowed brotherhood, devout, sincere,
From mean self interest stand well clear.
All hope of rewards they justly scorn,
Prompted to persuade, to teach, to warn.

Their wisdom pure, handed down from those above,
Their value assured by their zeal and love.
As meek as Moses with High Caul,
With truth they teach, they give their all.

They stand stalwart from the world’s contaminating touch,
Unpolluted by belief’s foul, unreasoning crutch.
The hallowed few against the might of power and wealth,
To bring man’s collective mind back, to reasoned health.

So many lives, so much painful bloodied death,
Children burned, raped and choked of breath.
The Hallowed Brethren gave their all, and soon the fray must leave,
And men still shout with eyes and minds locked tight,
“Believe! Believe! Believe!”

When I die, bury me in a lonely place, away from the prying eyes of my enemies.
Bury me in a far place, where they cannot spit upon the mound beneath which I lie, nor defile my stone-marked place.
My enemies are only the worst of people, who know no better. But forgive them not, for their ignorance is their preferred choice. They believe that spitting on the helpless, or the dead, raises them up in some way, making them feel less inadequate, though there is nothing less adequate than such as they; and nothing lower; not even a snakes track in a wheel rut is lower.
Such is the mind of the truly base-motivated animal that calls itself mankind. Such men could call themselves human if it was not for the void left by their total lack of any humanity.
Bury me on the prairie, or the wild places, where my heart shall live as long as I breathe, and to where my spirit shall fly when my carcass no longer is warm.
Failing that, dump me somewhere, but in an unnoticed place, as I have been unnoticed all my life, except for the unwanted attentions of those who wish me quiet. These relentless and often secret, faceless enemies, of which I appear to have so many.

I have offended by asking men to reason. To learn of things beyond what they think they already know, for they believe they know all there is to know, whilst at the same time denying evidence of fact, in favour of fantasy, their unknown things remaining oblivious and unsought for.

I have offended many because I do not believe in what they believe, because what they believe has no basis in fact. Still do they choose belief in the unbelievable over all fact. I have offended even more greatly, when I have asked them to show me the things of what they speak with such conviction. All they can show in evidence, is yet more believed and baseless nonsense.

I have shaken their conviction, but still they see not any light, and hate rises within them because of their fear. Perhaps their darkness is too dark for any light to penetrate. Their portals are shut so tightly, that nothing goes in; and because of this state, nothing is in there to come out.

So when I am dead, bury me in a silent place, where I can not hear their babblings of what they believe, or their singing of hypocritical hymns, as what they believe changes daily, and very often, more speedily than that. And of the praises they sing are only of themselves, in that contradiction of “sure and certain hope”.

Bury me deeply in case I can still see, for there is nothing of my fellow man that is worth seeing, for so much of him is false; and the differences he feels towards me are not visible, except to him and his like-thinkers.

Bury me in a windswept place where the winds drive the stench of their stupidity from me. For it has a truly foul stench, that appears to overcome all things, and leave even that which is clean, fouled.

Bury me where only my friends know, for they are the goodly ones, and people of reason and kindness, suffering only from their deep rooted humanity; and those without humanity take advantage of that which they do not understand, and so make such good people suffer, simply because they can, and lack conscience. Belief has its uses, as it justifies all.

Bury my friends where I lie, so that they may not be sought out by their enemies, for their enemies are my enemies. Such dark birds of evil fly in close formations, in dense and ever shadowing flocks across the sun-drenched valleys where even the sweet waters fail to cleanse them away, nor can the light of kindness or wisdom, shine through to give life. Such is their shadow.

Where such as they are present can abide only death; whether it be of the flesh, or of the spirit. So often destruction is all that the evil ones see, or appear to either know or understand. To them destruction is good for them to perform. It is useful to such as they, because it creates fear; and fear creates obedience, and the obedient ones give power to the unjust. The un-just lacking, sadly, in any form of common kindness, and, devoid of all sense of humanity, holds no care.

The unjust have the power to destroy, and they use it to great effect to maintain their station. Evil rules are laid down, sucking away the blood and effort of the good; and this evil grows ever stronger.

Let no priest of any believer's kind cross my door. And let no useless prayers to some entity that has its place only in the sick imaginations of fools, be muttered at my passing.
Let no hypocritical tear be shed. I shall need not belated sympathies or false regrets when I am already dead. “If only” shall not rise me up, nor shall it furnish forgiveness to those who have done me wrongs.
Bury me in a far place where the sky is big and the grass is tall. Let not my enemies know that I am dead, till the soil is well settled. Because of them I have been sorely bled, and all of me severely tested. There is not worthiness in them, nor any kindness of humanity invested.
Keep a silence, lest men learn of my change of station, that I might lie in peace and do my rotting in quiet secret. Let my enemies take no delight in my inevitable and final misfortune, which befalls all mankind. For alas, I have many enemies amongst the hordes of the believers that I do not know, and who know me not; nor have they taken the trouble to find me out. I, alas, am surrounded.

Copyright RG Crosbie 2005

When all seems lost and life turns cold.
When there's nothing left, but love to hold.
When passion dies within the ageing loin,
Youth long spent as careless coin.

When there's no future left beyond today to see,
And time a memory distant passed,
When nothing else has stood the test of time,
There's only love to keep you warm,
As only love has value that can really last.

When standing on the threshold of a nearing grave,
A tear runs down the cheek of one who's not so brave.
So much to lose and naught to gain,
Just ancient love to make you carry on, and ease the pain.

Copyright RG Crosbie 2008

Men of reason have always found,
That all good things come from the soil, from simple ground.
And from thence plants grow by sweat and toil,
The hallowed fruits spring up from well tilled soil,
Oft planting helped by unknown hand,
That made the plow to till the land.
And so shall Sion faithful yield, her thousand sacred sweets.
Should men not reason, know it now,
They shall walk alone; shall starve, in corpse filled streets.

© R.G.Crosbie 12/5/09