Steve Quayle Endorses the LOST BOOK OF KING OG

It has been difficult for me, eating all of this crow while Father Martin does his best to undo what we have done together. I really felt that my GONTEEKWA novel had been respectful of THE BOOK OF OG. But as you probably know if you have been reading, that is not the case.

So imagine my surprise when I realized that Father Martin has determined the born-again Nephilim theorist Steve Quayle's endorsement of the text should be used.

He has been placing links to it throughout his social media.


Yesterday, in his email to me, Father Martin sounded a bit lighter in spirit than he has been of late. I believe that in his finding a mainstream North American Christian like Steve Quayle. And hearing the endorsement his research, that he takes it as a real confirmation that he has been on the right track for the past few years.

I'll keep you posted.



Today is my birthday. I am 32 years old. I started thinking about this birthday months ago, and I expected it would be a tough one the way 29, 30, and 31 were. I dreaded those birthdays because they signified the conclusion of young adulthood, a chapter filled with indefatigable hope for the future; a dating pool loaded with intriguing fish; firm triceps that do not hang low and wobble to and fro; and the capacity for death-defying, "We'll talk about this when we're 80 [or, as the case may be: 32]" adventures.

The last three birthdays reminded me that my life is not what I hoped it would be by 30. I'd expected the daily freedoms and sporadic adventures that health affords, and I'd hoped for wifely and motherly adventures along the way. Many of my dreams have been elusive, despite my fervent efforts at realizing them; and the last few birthdays have shined a strobe light onto the deep, sometimes frantic ache of punctured hope.

For years I've longed to recapture young adulthood, determined to regain the years I spent in bed or at the doctor's office. I've been desperate to make the next six years better, easier — healthier. This birthday, though, I've grown tired of trying to scramble up the sand dune of time past, and I have finally stopped and turned to embrace this new season, whatever it might hold. In doing so, I've discovered the gift I kept overlooking.

Thirty-two has gleaned decades of life experiences that confirm the lavishness of God's goodness and the grandness of his grace. Thirty-two offers grey hairs and wrinkles, but they're hard-won wrinkles and grey hairs, earned in the trenches of unexpected suffering and ongoing disappointment.

At 32, my heart has begun to understand what my head has known all along: wrinkles and grey hair can be celebratory signs that we are growing into our truest selves, more glorious than the year before. And they can be credentials — a sign to the world that though we cannot wipe off the whiteboard without our triceps flying to the high heavens, our souls are strong and sturdy, and we are becoming wise.

I only have a few wisdom credentials at this point, but I'm thankful for the few I have, and for the hardships that endowed them. At 22 years old, I couldn't have imagined the layers of richness they would add to my life. At 22, I liked my safe, comfortable little life, and heart-wrenching hardships seemed like the worst possible thing. I did everything I could to avoid — and resist — them.

But oh, my sweet 22-year-old self: if I could reach back in time and talk with you today, here is what I would tell you about life and its hardships:

In 32 years I have learned that at some point life will strip you naked. It will tear away health, or careers, or wealth, or relationships, or beauty, or physical fitness, until you're a naked soul, trembling from the discomfort of nakedness.

At this point, despite all your good theology, you may feel like you have little offer the world — like you aren't as valuable as you used to be — and you will likely scramble to cover up your nakedness. You will reach for the things that have been stripped away, with the hope of plastering them over your life all over again.

There is a good chance God will not let you.

Instead, he may teach you that impressive achievements and a reliable career were fig leaves you were using to cover your nakedness all along, like Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. When we shrink back in shame like Adam and Eve, determined to cover our nakedness, God will come looking for us. He will call out to us, and draw near to us, and his Father's heart will long to clothe us.

We see this when God carefully sewed clothing for Adam and Eve so they'd no longer have to use fig leaves to cover their nakedness. Those clothes were a symbol, a foreshadowing of the righteousness in which Christ would one day clothe the souls of his lovers, so we don't ever have to cower from the shame of nakedness again.

When your fig leaves have been stripped away, you may realize you do not feel relieved by the re-discovery that you are clothed in Christ's righteousness. You may feel like you got the short end of the stick, like his righteousness is not enough somehow. It doesn't help you toward the American Dream, after all, and the American Dream is the ultimate measuring rod for success in the West.

This realization is a gift.

It is a light on the dashboard of your soul, alerting you to hardness of heart you weren't previously aware of. It is an opportunity to invite the Holy Spirit to re-teach you the sufficiency of his grace and the marvels of being his child, clothed in his righteousness. It is an invitation to awaken to the living, Gospel Truth that devours the lie of the American Dream:

There is no life dearer — no life more fulfilling, thrilling, or vibrant — than a life of being a naked soul, clothed in righteousness, loved by God.

Here is what I know that I know that I know: if you are in your bed, almost all day, most days, for years and years, aching from illness and the grief that accompanies it, but you are discovering God's power and learning his love, then you are living your best possible life. You are not missing out. You are writing a most beautiful story.

This story-writing is often painful. In fact, most of the time, it will not feel like you and God are writing a beautiful story with a glorious ending. Instead, it will feel like you have been thrust into enemy territory, castaway and forgotten. When this happens, plunder the enemy territory. If your enemy is sickness, singleness, or grief, carefully survey the landscape and salvage everything of value — every last bit of gold, every last string of pearls — and tuck it into the folds of your heart.

The quiet isolation of chronic illness may be the space in which you learn to listen for God's voice. The hunger for marriage may push you into community with people in whom you'd never otherwise have time to invest. The pain of pervasive grief may teach you to pray without ceasing.
The plundering will add sparkle to your life, but it will not transform your darkness into light. Only God can do that. And he is at work transfiguring the darkness. This is at the heart of the Gospel. When you are weak, then you are strong; when you are empty, then you are filled; when you lose your life, then you find it; when you die, then you are really, truly alive.

I used to love gazing at these paradoxes from afar, intoxicated by their beauty. I never dreamed they would be so brutal to live. Weakness, loss, and death are a miserable lot, and sometimes it can take absolutely ages — even an entire lifetime — before we see signs of strength, gain, and life sprouting from the ashes.

It is easy to lose heart in the midst of the waiting, while our robust hope withers and droops. This is why we need each other. While you wait for Jesus to transfigure your darkness into light, run into a safe community of Christians. Ask them to tell you their stories of God's provision — of the strength he gave them in weakness, and the gain he gave them in loss. If you are too sick to meet with other followers of Jesus, then send a text or an email, asking people to send you their stories. Become a collector of stories that you can revisit when your perseverance wanes.

And when you have stories of your own, share them. Tell your people about the time you got a check in the mail, just hours after sinking despair over financial need. Tell them about the friend who gave her heart to Christ, after you'd prayed for her for years; tell them about the angel that protected you on a long road trip; tell them about the time you ate a waffle and realized, mid-bite, that God gave you taste buds — of all things, taste buds! — all over your tongue, opening you to all sorts of grace. Remember God's goodness together, and watch your hope grow.

And when God turns the darkness into gold? Give it away. Empty yourself right back out for the impoverished in your community. Take every last drop of love you've received and every last bit of grace you've learned and give it to the the lonely neighbor who needs a listening ear, the marginalized immigrant who needs a safe place to belong, the exhausted single mom who needs rent money and a babysitter, the imprisoned and forgotten who need education and opportunity, and the sick and elderly who need hot meals and encouraging words.

If you're immobilized by illness and you can't do much to lessen the pain on earth, then petition heaven on behalf of those whose wounds are raw and gaping. Devote your days to asking God to give them advocates and a sense of his peace, presence, and power. And when you do, you will discover all over again that the discomfort of giving is where Life hides. The Way of Jesus is the Way of Giving, and the Way of Giving is the only way of having what satisfies your soul.

It is hard work persevering through the darkness and resting at the heart of Gospel paradox. But I can promise you this: if you have surrendered your life — your ambitions, longings, and deepest loves — to Jesus, then you will discover that suffering is not the worst possible thing that could happen to you; a comfortable life disconnected from God's love is. And in some crazy, wild way, God can use your suffering to make his love more real to you than ever before, more glorious than you ever imagined. If you thought his love was a glowing candle, your suffering can teach you it is a sunrise.

Once you have felt the warmth of that sunrise, you will want to bask in it forever. You will want to swim in it, to be wrapped up in it, to be united with it. Unlike twenty-two, thirty-two, with its deepening wrinkles and white hairs, will remind you that you are returning to dust, and one day very soon, you will be wrapped up in God's arms, united with him at last. You will touch him, smell him, and look into his eyes, and what you see in them will make you sing and dance with joy.

In the meantime, there is worthy work to do.

So press on, Young One, your face ever-fixed on the Sunrise. You will be glad you did.


***I first heard John Coe use the metaphor of lights on the dashboard of the soul; and I first heard Matt Jenson use the metaphor of plundering enemy territory.

© by scj


These are some of the notes I drop before Father Martin's translations begin. In fact, this particular paragraph sums up why any scholar of the antediluvian and postdiluvian era should give the translation a read:

Three key pieces of information are made present in the book.  The first is the mention of Og's significantly younger son Ogias, (a reveal during the Hundred Thousand Giant War) which can be used to explain the Methuseluh-challenging longevity of King Og. The second is the presentation of Nimrod as an antediluvian (pre-flood) ruler of a Nephilim colony. With Nimrod warring with King Og before the flood in Og's timeline, the scales are tipped towards Nimrod's identity as that of Gilgamesh of ancient Sumerian literature. Lastly, the BOOK OF KING OG presents Nimrod as the potential "father of circumcision" and the leader of the movement to "carve the loins of men." Such explanations help answer questions that have puzzled Biblical and antiquities scholars for centuries. 

Father Martin and I are still out of contact. I do hope that he sees what I have done online and recognizes my respect for his project.



One of the coolest things about THE BOOK OF KING OG are the chapter titles that stick with the text even after translation.

Chapter 1. King Og Let's His Hatred of Nimrod be Known.
Chapter 2. The Hundred Thousand Giant War Part 1.
Chapter 3. The Hundred thousand Giant War Part 2.
Chapter 4. The Losses to Water.
Chapter 5. The Resettling and End of Nimrod.
Chapter 6. Prophecy of Bashan's Rule
Chapter 7. The Final Words of King Og.

I have only read (as you probably have) Chapters 1 and 7.

I did however spend a lot of time discussing with Father Martin the ins and outs the the Hundred Thousand Giant War. I can safely say that I comprehend those 2 chapters (I also found it interesting that they were split).

I am forced to wonder if there is any numerical significance to the 7 chapters?

I know that the Rephaim were into all sorts of darkness, and perhaps the chapter number is part of it all? (Side note: Nimrod killed a child, but wasn't Baal worship all about child sacrifice?)
(sider note: Was not the worship of Baal also about sexual ritual? In fact, I have always thought that the Celtic Frost classic PROCREATION OF THE WICKED was a sort of Baal "worship team" throwback. In fact, if you are going to listen to this song for inspiration, I would suggest the SEPULTURA VERSION for additional teeth.

In truth, the level of absolute blasphemy in the 2 chapters that I have read so far (1 and 7) has stunned me. These are ancient swears against ancient dieties. The anger and the faith in the words of Og were unexpected to me. Og straight up called Yahweh an "insect-sized god" more than one.

The chapters seem to show that the proper worship of Baal consumed the Rephaim, specifically Og the King. It was the biggest part of their existence. It seems to me that they had been driven into a more intense practice of worship by the "Unspoken Mistake." The pleading for a solution to the unspoken mistake is telling. I am not sure what it tells, but it is desperate.

Well, I don't want to say anything else. I do know that Father Martin is now aware that I published Chapter 2. I can only guess that he will say something about it on his website in the next several days. 



I am working with the texts that Father Martin has already given me. He told me that I could continue using them and he hasn't taken them back, so I am going in before he says to stop.

I will publish them as I copy them over from his ridiculous scrawl. We have not had any communication for a few weeks now. I simply feel that the value of this tome is too great to ignore.

That being said, I don't know if he will give me a "cease and desist" order or not. It has been with heaviness that I have decided to continue publishing this text and keep the LOST BOOK OF KING OG online.

I am going to populate this blog with the text though. This stuff is too good to just have in one spot on the Internet. It sets up the Hundred Thousand Giant War which is probably the greatest war story never told. I hope to have it all up and running here in the next several months.

Understand that what I am publishing will explain to scholars everywhere the demise of the Rephaim. In all honesty, when I learned of it, I was dumbstruck for several minutes. The way that the Rephaim self-destructed is something that Og doesn't address directly, but is referred to throughout the small amount of his text that I have read. 


Dated in or around 1400 BCE.

Chapter 1. – King Og Lets His Hatred of Nimrod be Known

¹ These are the last and only words spoken by Og the Rephaim as told to Anak, the Keeper of the Bodies before Baal. ²Baal, who keeps our gardens fertile. ³Baal who guided Og’s complete-loined wrath from when the old world [monsters] stood until after the time of the great waters. Baal who will reverse the Unspoken Mistake.

⁴The [loose-boweled] false priests, led [mighty] Og,  Nimrod and all the Rephaim to The Unspoken Mistake. That [embarassing?] which cannot be named or fixed until Baal intervenes.  ⁵The [stupid] Unspoken Mistake stains us all to the inner-loins. The Mistake the [false] [loose-boweled] Rephaim priests of Baal led us to [perverts] us all.

⁶ I, Og and the [true] Rephaim priests of Baal tore out the jelly of their eyes and pulled the [stupid] skulls off of those false Rephaim priests of [complete loin]. We spilled their [worm-filled] stomachs and [yellowing] wet intestinal droppings out on the fields. With bare hands we twisted and tore them free. ⁷ Nimrod [also] participated, sacrificing his  false Nephilim priests of incomplete loin and  piling their [plucked circumcised] [sexual organs] atop each other and [sparked] the [useless meat] with . . .fire, which is a disgrace to them.

⁸ The [blackened blood] of both complete and incomplete[ly] loin[ed] deceivers ran thick over the grass. We cut the bodies into pieces and laid it upon the wood and poured four barrels of oil upon the flesh. The fire of Baal fell and [consumed the sacrifice of false priests]. The dark smoke of cursed Rephaim flesh [smoldered] sacrifice burned for [. . .] Baal [and his promise of] fertility.

⁹ We [encouraged] the [vermin-like] smaller selves of both kingdoms, both complete and incomplete loined [present at the] sacrifice to feast upon the corrupted [. . . ]flesh of Rephaim bodies. An [unnatural curse] now [rests] upon my [skull] and spirit until the end of [stars].¹⁰ [We both] encouraged this new [abomination] Nimrod and I, Og in our [quest for the unnatural].

¹¹ During the time of the sacrifice of  the [loose-boweled. . .fecal] priests, I, Og [governed] my half of the great land and Nimrod his.  I, Og continually [marveled] over the [tranquil?] peace between our [war tribes]. Nimrod’s Nephilim kingdom [enforced] [circumcision]while Og’s did not.

¹² In that season, The kingdom of Og formed a [Pact of Brotherhood] with [all remaining] Rephaim [tribes]. . .[lands]. This [pact introduced] the [vermin-like] smaller selves to [. . .] Baal [. . .][worship].  ¹³In the [Pact] I called [the Mighty Hunter] Nimrod, “blood of my own lineage.” Now, with the death of all [the remaining] Rephaim upon Nimrod’s [dry feces. . .] hands, I no longer honor the [cowardly] half-loined Nephilim Hunter Nimrod.

¹⁴ Only a half-loined Nephilim coward murders a child. [For this offense and more] I  [regularly] urinated upon his dead [bones. . .corpse] [Until the meat and offal peeled away]. Till the end of my days, I will take the daily [fecal] journey to [choke] his Nephilim corpse.

¹⁵ Of all of the [war-like] hatred [of which volcanoes are formed], I hold the most for the disrespected [skeletal] remains of the Nephilim Hunter, Nimrod who led his kingdom in the [loin-weakening][member-carving] practice of [circumcision].

¹⁶ I will tell. . . [tales] . . .of how the Nephilim  [vomit-soaked] Nimrod offended [all of] the Rephaim. How [in his stupidity]. . .[half-loined] Nimrod defied Baal. Thus causing Baal to guide my [unforgiving hands of war] to his death. [This story I will tell].

¹⁷ After I, Og have finished my last meal and [pushed my crumbed plate forward], The [half-loined] Nephilim Hunter, Nimrod’s name will forever mean [stupid]. ¹⁸Nimrod’s name shall [mean the] [Nephilim fecalness?]. . . of mind and the [mangled] of loin. He alone [carries] all of the [disgrace of the Rephaim.]

¹⁹ Nimrod [is the dung swollen] Nephilim who killed us all.

²⁰ Oh that I could shatter his teeth in Nimrod’s mouth again, and break the teeth of his half-loined Nephilim sons Hunor and Magor as well.

²¹ First, before I can tell the story, it should [be told] how [shrewd] Nimrod the Hunter was. What a [good steward] of his land he was! ²² How much so, I, Og [envied] Nimrod as a warrior. How much so, I, Og [envied] Nimrod as a ruler. How much so, I, Og [envied] Nimrod as he forced the smaller selves build the Throneroom of Balal. I, Og did not [envy] the [circumcision]or any of the lessening of the member that Nimrod chose for his Nephilim kingdom.

²³ Nimrod’s land used the smaller selves for food. He [traded] them to the kingdom of Og for labor in secret. Nimrod also forced the male Nephilim  and the male smaller selves of his kingdom to carve their loins with the knife of [circumcision]. ²⁴ [Consumption] of smaller selves in secret is the true [mystery] that Nimrod knew in [Nephilim-ese/esq?] governance.  Nimrod, the [dung-smeared] of mind and loin raised the smaller selves as secret [. . .food meat]. Nimrod the Nephilim with an incomplete member who [deceived] . . . and [concealed] his consumption of the [adult male] smaller selves.

²⁵ At the end of the great battles with the unspeakable [large, scaled] beasts of old, food in the Kingdom of Og was scarce. The Rephaim brothers of [animal husbandry], the great beast [farmers] and [tamers] Gog and Magog had both turned their grey [eyes] to the [magnificent] Leviathan and other beasts of the sea for meat. [. . .] beasts of old. We fed upon [the forgotten  gods of a lesser time].

²⁶During that [sparse of food] time, I, Og found a [large colony of smaller selves] in my kingdom . A colony of smaller selves [riddled] with [Rephaim] [evils such as] murder and rape as they enslaved and harmed each other.

²⁷ The [powerful] kingdom of Og was not [deceptive] or crafty with the smaller selves as Nimrod [was]. Smaller self [adult males] were struck down and eaten in the open. We chose not to hide our hunger from the smaller selves. I did not require the [loin carving] circumcision that Nimrod required in his land.

²⁸ The Rephaim Priests of Baal [. . . decreed]  . . . all lands were not to feast upon the smaller self females. . . smaller self females [became pure] priestesses [wives] and [concubines] of Baal. [Not to be known by any member].

²⁹ [We taught] the smaller selves not to kill or [pain?] or rape. [We taught] the [pro-creative?] [value] of the smaller self [females]. [Nimrod and Og] both [taught] the smaller selves. . .Baal’s [truths] during all times of peace and war. ³⁰ The Rephaim Priests of Baal decreed the sacrifice of the [tiny worthless] smaller self children to [undo] the Unspoken Mistake.  ³¹Nimrod’s Nephilim kingdom and that Rephaim land of Og sacrificed [all. . .] smaller self  [children] with [effectual] [fervent] ritual, being of one mind and spirit bleeding for Baal to [undo] the Unspoken Mistake.

³² The Rephaim [must consider] now [. . .themselves]. The Rephaim [must consider] a return to the excreta [of beginning]. Every day brings the [extinction] of the Rephaim [species] closer. ³³ Consider Baal when you have [given birth to] a child at 500 years. Consider Baal [again] as each [new star] passes. It is Baal [. . .] our land [fertile]. It is Baal [. . .] again produce Rephaim offspring. [It is Baal that we cry out to and ask for extension].

³⁴ The smaller selves will birth the [next] Rephaim. Baal has spoken through the priestess.³⁵ In the [800-1000] years since the death of Banba, . . . [our bracelets] for Baal. Smaller self infants [are scorched] and scream to Baal . . .[nightly].

Og Speaks of Supplication to Baal

³⁶ Baal has. . . land with greenery and [healthy vegetation] fruits and nuts. Baal [also saw] to Og’s [. . .] success in the Hundred Thousand Giant War. ³⁷ Baal . . .[mountains to climb] when the waters covered the earth. Baal [guided my hands] as I drew Nimrod’s [yellowing] entrails from his [quaking]. . .[misshapen-loined] Nephilim body.

³⁸ Scream to Baal, all Rephaim! Rejoice and scream. Scream and beg for the undoing of the Unspoken Mistake! ³⁹ Declare Baal’s power [aspects]. . . Again I say scream and rejoice! Be it war or contention. [It is] that Baal that keeps our fields fertile, who keeps the peoples of the land. . .

⁴⁰[Remind] Baal of fertility in your. . . Remind Baal of the extension. Ascribe to Baal all of you Rephaim, ascribe to Baal the land’s fertility and your [physical] strength.

⁴¹ . . . smaller self [child] offerings and come before Baal. Scream and bleed in the. . .[the fertility] awarded [to us] for our worship. The fertility that will prolong the Rephaim.

⁴² Tremble before the all-powerful Baal. Before his established land of fertility that cannot be moved. Before his altar, we. .  and bleed on the [. . .] We await the extension, as we scream “Come Lord Baal.” in unison, with [our . . . wounds . . .].

⁴³. . . extension. Baal will extend the. . . Rephaim in his time. [Not by our will, but by Baal’s will] can the extension take place.

⁴⁴ We await. . . Baal. . . we will not falter, even if [he does not deliver].

⁴⁵The smaller self prophetess has prophesied the following that applies to the land:
“I am Baal your God who delivered you from Nimrod in the     
Hundred Thousand Giant War.

I am Baal who will provide     
the extension to the Rephaim.
Because of this, you will     
bleed yourself before no other gods.

I do not honor the circumcision
It is good for the Rephaim not to know the smaller selves.
You will not cut your members
for any of the other insect-sized gods that demand it

May the destruction of my enemies buried
in . . their punishment until the end of time.

Worship me and I Baal will extend your [. . .] of power
and give you [. . .].
Consider this:
A time is coming when you will all worship Baal Hammon

He is coming in storm. Every eye will see him
Even those that practice circumcision

Let the enemies tremble and
let the earth shake. The great Baal of the Rephaim
stands above the insect-sized gods.

Filth is the land of his heritage.

All will ascribe penance and worship
Blood sacrifice is. . .
fertility I will empower. . .

Do not tire. Baal’s power. . .
as you see the [lush country]. As your crops. . .
As Kaour the able and Farshen the palsied served as temple stewards,
Speaking through the smoke from the [darkened] sacrificial fire,
The worship must frenzy and gash with knives and lances.

Baal your. . . delivers the promised extension of Rephaim [lineage].
Proclaim the power of Baal on the fertile mountain.
Continue. . .I will extend you.”

⁶The story of the loss of my [Rephaim queen] Lestha and my [infant daughter] Banba and the Hundred Thousand Giant War are they not told in chapters 2 and 3 of the Book of Og?

I will continue to re-blog/update as they are made available.


DNRS: a September Limbic System Retraining Update

My friends!

I come bearing a limbic system retraining update. It's been about ten weeks since I started training, and I continue to be encouraged by my progress. The last few weeks have been particularly encouraging since I've had several pockets during which I can feel the lights in my body flicker on as my brain begins to remember how to function like a normal, healthy brain. During these pockets, I'm able to be up, engaging people and activity, more often and more easily.

Here are a few other encouraging signs of progress:

1. I'm not constantly in fight-or-flight mode anymore and am generally much calmer than I have been in ages. Things that used to drench my body in adrenaline and trigger a set of crazy physical challenges — like the sound of my phone buzzing, or bright lights, or artificial smells — are affecting me less and less.

As my healing brain creates more pockets of calm, it is able to divert the energy it used to need to maintain a constant state of fight-or-flight to healing the rest of my body. I expect that my brain will eventually slide completely out of fight-or-flight mode so my body can use every last bit of its energy to heal.

2. I've continued to work on adding foods back to my diet, and I've successfully re-integrated almost all fresh fruits.

I'm especially happy to be eating bananas...

....and raisins (a game-changer! Now I can make "trail mix" with my pecans and raisins)....

....and, in the non-fruit category: POTATO CHIPS! I'm thankful to have such a calorie-heavy source of food. For awhile there, I had to drink sparkling water if I wanted to feel full, but now, I just pull out a bag of tater chips.
I accidentally ate an entire bag of potato Chips on Sunday. Also on Monday. Also on Tuesday.

3. For years I tried to remember what it felt like to be in my body before all of these challenges started, but whenever I inserted myself into a happy memory, my physical challenges would invade and change the memory. Remembering my old life often made me feel like I was watching a movie about someone else's life — a character with whom I couldn't identify at all.

But over the last ten days I've been repeatedly hit with snippets of memories from my early twenties, and in those moments my brain REMEMBERS what it felt like to be in my body back then. I've remembered what it felt like to lift weights in Austria, camp in the Italian countryside, and go swing dancing in Pasadena. As far as I understand, this remembering is a sign that my hippocampus — a key part of the limbic system — is coming back online after many years of malfunctioning.

It's so exciting and encouraging to see these signs of brain, and subsequent body, change. The goal is to do this program for a minimum of six months, but my intuition and research suggest I need to be doing this for a whole year, so that's what I'm committing to. I'm feeling more and more confident that at this time next year, I'll be singing a whole new song.

If you're new to my blog and want to read more about limbic system retraining, click here

Thanks for praying with me as I train, my friends.

I'm praying and cheering for you,


© by scj

The Explanation to Fr. Martin's Exodus

I feel that I owe my blog an explanation for the disintegration of my relationship with Father Martin. In fact, I won't drop this on the MEDIASAURS or the MEDIA DRENCHED blogs, I'll just keep the one post here.

I have known the man who is now Father Martin since I was basically a kid. He went off to seminary, and I went off to YWAM Texas. Our connection through Christ had been an interesting one. He is celibate, I am in my second marriage. I eventually left the faith, but our connection continued.  He currently lives 3/4 of his year in Vatican City with a level of pomp and pageantry that I have playfully chided him for over the years.

Our differences are paramount, and that is probably why we have always gotten along with each other so well. We have both been incredibly respectful of each of our respective "life spaces." For example, I prefer to listen to heavier music, to view violent movies and read vintage comics. Father Martin however, swears by the Beatles and spends his spare time reading philosophy (I have been teasing him since the early 90s about the spelling of Søren Aabye Kierkegaard). I spend a lot of time online whereas he does not. I prefer to drink a bit of vino on the weekends and his alcohol intake is limited to communion. I drink coffee, he drinks tea and so on.

I have watched Father Martin degrade at an accelerated rate over the past several years. I thought that it was just age and travel. We're both close to 50 years old and Father Martin travels around the world extensively on Vatican business. The wear and tear that I have noticed on him of late is beyond age and travel fatigue though. What is aging him? Father Martin is lost in the throes of FEAR.

In our last conversation, he confided in me how FEAR has been wearing him down. Initially, I wasn't going to post any more than the last post that I had referencing his insanity. In truth, I thought that the "insanity argument" still harnessed a bit of favor for my writing projects that he has had a hand in. Well, he saw my "FATHER MARTIN'S INSANITY" post and contacted me.

Father Martin made it clear in no uncertain terms that his sanity is intact. He actually requested that I remove the post. I made it clear to him that I wasn't going to remove the post, but I would post clarification if he would allow it. I am still a little miffed that he has cut me off from the Vatican intel that I'd had unfettered access to.

"Tell them that fear is what drives me," he said.

This led to an incredibly long conversation where he explained this fear. The connection over the phone wasn't the greatest, but I will do my best in this blog post is to clarify the so-called "insanity" of Father Martin.

Before I do clear up where Father Martin is coming from, I need you to know a few things though. First is that I never wanted to hurt Father Martin by telling the werewolf story. Initially, he was "into it," and he directed aspects of my prose.   

I also know that I desperately wanted to sink the GONTEEKWA concept somewhere. If you have been reading this blog, then you know my connection to the word and how badly I wanted to use it.
I needed a new werewolf concept, and in talking to Father Martin, I found one.  Like I said, Father Martin was into it initially, but I believe his personal issues have gotten in the way.

The way that I anchored the story was simply too much for him. Part of the problem is that I am no longer a believer, and Father Martin is still serious about his relationship with Jesus Christ. I get where he's coming from. He gave me the lost book of the Rephaim KING OG concept and I ran with it, never taking it too seriously.

I used the text that he gave me as the Rephaim King Og's last words (Chapter 7) and I inserted the word "GONTEEKWA" into it. Like I said, this was originally approved by Father Martin, but he has since then really second-guessed himself. The way he has pulled away from me has made me consider taking all of what I have written in this season offline. Our relationship suffers because of it, but not entirely, because he providing links to both sites on his own personal website.

I feel that I have given a passable, concise explanation of what Father Martin and I have been up to. Now I need to clear up where exactly he seems to be coming from:

Towards the end of our last conversation, he told me what his real problem is. You see, Father Martin researches for the Vatican, and he gets access to a lot of documents that the average person can't get their hands on or hear whispers of. Father Martin has had direct access to the missing book of King Og and has actively participated in its translation. Father Martin told me that he believes that the story that I am telling with the GONTEEKWA is too close to the truth.

"So what?" I said.

"So what? The creature that you speak of is unnamed." He responded.

Upon further conversation, what I have learned is that the "werewolf spirit" that the GONTEEKWA represents does not have a name that has been translated from any of his documents. In short: The spiritual parasite that I have been talking about (and misnamed) has no name.

"The creature is referenced throughout the KING OG book, but never actively named." he said.

Father Martin's fear is that with his revelation of the behavior and the historical context of it all, that he is now a target of the "unnamed spirit" that I have "discount-named" [his words] a GONTEEKWA.

Father Martin's fear is that this "werewolf spirit" knows that he is the very human who exposed knowledge of it to the modern world.

The creature has been on the loose since 1400 BCE, and the more information that gets out about it, the less it can operate in the shadows. Because of the spotlight that Father Martin has created through the lens of my fiction, he feels himself to be the primary target.

He and I discussed the attacks and possession of the werewolf spirit ad nauseum while I was writing The GONTEEKWA. I had no idea that I was really scaring Father Martin with my presentation of his story. Its the story of a spirit that can force-possess a person, change that person's physical shape, and is immune to any of the Christian or Catholic rites of exorcism. I do believe it was the outright blasphemy that caused Father Martin to turn from me. I get it. I have flipped his concept of  "God" into a coma with my book's religious argument. I do believe that I have unraveled a layer of his Christian faith.

Truthfully, if this evil is what Father Martin thinks it is, then he needs to find the proper armor for warfare.

I was raised a Christian. I, Like Hank Maldita, was a missionary in Grenada. I too went into the woods. I also met a man.  We spoke of lycanthropy. I was 19 years old. An experience of such weirdness, coupled with my experiences in YWAM observing verbal spiritual warfare perplexed me for years.  ******  In truth, serious deliverance from evil spirits is never immediate. Part of what is awesome about being out of the Evangelical scene is that I can tell stories of the practice of Christian deliverance that I have witnessed.

Those two factors: 1) my experience in the jungle and 2) my experiences observing Christian deliverance rituals created the foundation for the Gonteekwa, but I needed Father Martin's insider, forbidden knowledge to fill in the gaps.

As an American, born-again Christian, I was taught that the name of Jesus "bound and cast" demons because they were subjected to the blood of Christ. I was taught that these weapons of spiritual warfare were the equivalent of .45 rounds to the face.

But this demon that I speak of will not be bound or cast by Jesus Christ. This demon has no respect for the blood of Christ. Where is Father Martin's savior now? This is the evil that he faces.

The truth in Father Martin's fear is the linchpin that I thought my entire story turned on: This spirit is outside of the christian system, with absolutely no respect for the name of Jesus Christ. The legitimacy of the entire system is called into question.

As a writer, I thought that the concept of a spiritual parasite that cannot be controlled by deliverance, exorcism, etc was a beautiful notion. I thought that it tilted the tone of the story into the direction of true horror and fear.

Writers have tackled these ideas before, but they haven't used the Bible or Catholic connections to stay close to the Christian dogma. But the heretical story that I am telling is actually too raw, its blasphemy too concise for modern horror. 

I had no idea that my approach would actually affect the man who had been such an incredible resource. The fear that I am trying to charge my book with is actually the true horror and fear that Father Martin lives through on a daily basis.

I tried to get more out of Father Martin on this subject, but he kept quiet. He told me that he would reveal as much as he could on his own website. He very graciously also told me that he would place links to both the GONTEEKWA and THE LOST BOOK OF KING OG on his website, because of the research we've both done and his relationship to me.

What I have come to conclude (it has been 3 days since I last talked to him), is that Father Martin has had some sort of actual experience with this "werewolf spirit" and that is what drives the rift between us. I don't think that the encounter happened recently though. In fact, I think it happened before he even started talking to me about the concept.

What I think has happened is that he has been exposed to a bunch of spiritual intelligence that the Vatican had squirreled away. I believe that in his research, he saw something that scared the hell out of him. I believe that in his talking to me, he was trying to assuage the very real fear that he has in his heart. But I think that this fear that he recently revealed to me has always been there. Father Martin thought (possibly) that in his talking about this "werewolf spirit" that he might be able to achieve some peace. I guess it is a compliment to my final GONTEEKWA manuscript that today he is so distraught by the subject. It is a "horror novel" after all.

I'll admit that I am about to sound pissy here, but come on. I can say this with all the love in my heart because I am close to the man: The Reverend Father Martin can sometimes be a real motherfucker. I thought that I was writing a HORROR NOVEL to get published here. But he's whinging now about how scared he is of what HE SUGGESTED I put in the novel.

Father Martin shared with me that he feels more exposed and vulnerable than ever to "the forces of darkness" as a result of my online push of the GONTEEKWA.

I really hope he comes to terms with this acute fear that he is dealing with. I mean, he is deep within a spiritual hierarchy, and he has like-minded Jesuits to talk to on a regular basis. I hope that he finds the right people to talk to and a solution to whatever it is that plagues him so.

I'll tell you this though, the last words that he spoke in that phone-call chilled me more than anything we ever discussed in regards to spiritual evil.

"Fear is my salvation now." He said.

I have no idea what that means, but what a dark place to be in.

I really hope that through all of this, we can restore our relationship to what it was. The past year and a half of correspondence with the man has been a catalyst for some impressive inner-growth of my own.

God Bless Him.

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