By Rebecca Burgess, theoraah.tumblr.com.
Archie is a character in a webcomic hccomic.smackjeeves.com.
“Another way we can contribute to the oneness: rejecting false stories that are designed to separate us from Jehovah’s organization. As an example, think about the apostate-driven lies and dishonesties that Jehovah’s organization is permissive toward pedophiles. I mean, that is ridiculous, isn’t it! If anybody takes action against someone who would threaten our young ones, and takes action to protect our young ones, it is Jehovah’s organization. We reject outright such lies.”
Lett’s talk about the Watchtower budget with more expenditures than income, the new fixed monthly “donation arrangement” for “kingdom hall” construction, and the amount of money involved in Warwick…
While Lett encourages Jehovah’s Witnesses to “honor Jehovah with your valuable things”…”a small donation from each of many of Jehovah’s people add’s up to a large amount of dedicated funds that can be used powerfully by Jehovah’s organization.”
If a child does not have two witnesses, they and their parents are made to feel their case isn’t good enough for the Jehovah’s Witnesses.
— Angela Marié Glass (@Ang) December 17, 2015
And if their case isn’t good enough for the ‘congregation’, then what compels them to see the help of qualified professionals? Not ‘elders’.
— Angela Marié Glass (@Ang) December 17, 2015
What are some ways that we can be generous toward Jehovah? We can also be generous toward Jehovah. “Honor Jehovah with your valuable things,” admonish the Scriptures. (Prov. 3:9) Those “valuable things” include our time, energy, and resources, which we can freely spend in his service.
Even young children can learn to be generous toward Jehovah. “When our family makes a donation at the Kingdom Hall, we let our children put the money in the contribution box,” says their father, Jason. “They enjoy it because, as they put it, they’re ‘giving something to Jehovah.’”Children who experience the joy of giving to Jehovah while they are young are likely to continue being generous toward him in adulthood.—Prov. 22:6.
NBC News, New York, reports that “the Jehovah’s Witnesses, the door-knocking religious group that’s been based in Brooklyn for a century, is selling its headquarters and other properties for an expected price tag of $1 billion or more.”
The Watchtower Society writes, “Having sufficient, adequate places of worship is vital, as Jehovah continues to ‘speed up’ the gathering of ‘a mighty nation. In order to meet these ever increasing needs, the Governing Body has directed that an adjustment be made in the way Kingdom Hall and Assembly Hall construction projects are financed. In harmony with 2 Corinthians 8:12-14, congregations will now be asked to pool their resources worldwide to support the construction of theocratic facilities wherever they are needed. …all congregations will have the opportunity to support Kingdom Hall and Assembly Hall construction work worldwide by resolving to make a monthly donation from congregation funds.”
Tucker Reed, president of the Downtown Brooklyn Partnership, called $1 billion “a conservative estimate” for the Witnesses’ real estate portfolio. If sale of the December 2015 list property brings the “expected price tag of $1 billion” or more as reported by the news media, then the total Brooklyn, NY based property sales for this non-profit since beginning the move to Warwick in 2004 will be almost $2 billion dollars. (See table below.)
Legal and Liability Distinctions
Particularly since 2000, Jehovah’s Witnesses have maintained a distinction between their corporations and their volunteer religious organization.
In 2001 the Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of New York was listed among the top forty revenue-generating companies in New York City, reporting an annual revenue of about $951 million US dollars. [See Wikipedia]
Meanwhile from 2005 to 2013 there was a 39% reduction in pages of printed content (see table below), and now there is now a push to use digital technology as a means to access their online content rather than reliance on printed materials.
The number of Jehovah’s Witnesses participating in collecting donations in the worldwide preaching work has increased since 2001, while producing and printing magazine content has been reduced to minimal cost.
A California jury awarded Candace Conti $28 million in damages in a case against the Jehovah’s Witnesses–the largest verdict for a single victim of child abuse against a religious organization in U.S. history.
The amount was later reduced to $15.6 million, including $8.6 million in punitive damages…
Now, years later, an appeals court has eroded her courtroom victory even further by ruling that the leadership of the Jehovah’s Witnesses had no duty to warn congregants that a confessed child molester was one of their own.
The decision by the California Court of Appeal is the latest ruling in a rash of lawsuits aimed at Jehovah’s Witnesses policies directing elders to keep child abuse secret from their congregations and secular authorities.
As a result, judges eliminated the punitive damages in the case. Still, Conti stands to receive $2.8 million.
There were also several other cases settled in Southern California for unspecified millions.
Still, that’s not much compared to annual donation revenue from fixed monthly donations to the kingdom hall building work and donations collected to support the worldwide preaching work + capital gains from property sales.
Plus, as a non-profit, the Watchtower doesn’t follow the same tax rules as a corporation.
Meanwhile over in the UK, the Charity Commission has opened an operational compliance case on a Jehovah’s Witnesses congregation in Wales after Mark Sewell was found guilty of numerous sex offenses. Seven charges of indecent assault against adults and minors, and one of rape; the crimes took place between 1985 and 1995.
A spokeswoman for the commission said the regulator was aware of the situation. “We have opened an operational compliance case on the charity,” she said.
“The Charity Commission’s regulatory concern is whether the trustees of the charity have complied with and fulfilled their duties and responsibilities as trustees under charity law and how the charity dealt with risks to the charity and its beneficiaries, including the application of safeguarding policy and procedures. We cannot comment further while the case is live.”
She said the case would be conducted independently of two statutory inquiries into Jehovah’s Witnesses charities opened last month in relation to issues including child protection.
On 10 June 2015, the regulator announced that it was investigating the Congregation of Jehovah’s Witnesses, and the Watch Tower Bible and Tract Society of Britain, the religion’s governing body.
A spokesman for the Watch Tower Society asked for all media enquiries to be directed to the governing body. Which governing body?
In the United States, congregations are set up as non-profit corporations with three elders from the congregation that has the property. The elders are only trustees and do not own anything nor does the congregation. If any of these elders are removed or step down, die, or move outside this congregation, another trustee is appointed by the body of elders (BOE).
The Watchtower Bible and Tract Society is governed by the laws for non-profit corporations set up by the IRS in the United States. Nonprofit corporations are businesses that don’t allow ownership and do not have an appreciation of stock or dividend distribution.
Even if the Watchtower were dissolved “as governments turn on religion“, the nonprofit organization is not “owned” by the person or persons that started it. It is a public organization that belongs to the public at-large. The parties responsible to operate the organization for the stakeholders are the members of the board of directors.
Also, a nonprofit corporation cannot be sold. If a nonprofit corporation were to “close down”, or dissolve, the board of directors of the nonprofit must distribute all of the nonprofit’s assets to another nonprofit corporation after all debts have been settled.
If a congregation (corporation) is dissolved, the property reverts to the parent non-profit corporation—the Watchtower Tract Society.
Also, Watchtower congregation’s circuit or district overseer may request to sell a property and be denied.
For instance, the loan on the Menlo Park, California Kingdom Hall was granted by a private individual, thus Watchtower Society (WTS) had no lien on the property.
The loan was paid in full in 2009 and the property now worth $2.2 million was owned free and clear by an independent California corporation called The Menlo Park Congregation of Jehovah’s Witnesses Inc.
The big issues here are the structure of the Watchtower Society and ownership of Kingdom Halls, or the individual, local church buildings where the congregations meet.
Among many changes to establish legal interest was to start getting recorded on deeds as the first position lien holder when making remodel and quick build loans. The Society also started a group insurance program for all Kingdom Halls, ostensibly to provide lower cost premiums, but also this showed an interest in each property.
The Watchtower Society argued that it was indeed a hierarchy, something it had denied for years.
The Society than proceeded to structure things so it actually owned and had title to each Kingdom Hall.
When any Congregation decides to build a Kingdom Hall, upon approval from The Watchtower headquarters, of course, the Watchtower Society will fund it, holding a mortgage which the congregation will eventually pay back in regular monthly payments, like you pay for your house.
The big difference is that when you get done making payments, your house is yours. When the Jehovah’s Witnesses congregations finish making payments, the Kingdom Hall belongs to the Watchtower Society.
However, the local Elders/Corporate Officers of Menlo Park Congregation of Jehovah’s Witnesses Inc. did not agree to remodel, and they refused the Watchtower loan.
This Menlo Park Congregation/Corporation was formed without by-laws and as such the local corporate laws apply: as one person said, “the WTS has no more right to take over this independent corporation then they do Saint Mary’s Cathedral in San Francisco.”
The Watchtower responded by removing and replacing those local Menlo Park congregation elders.
Under California law, there is no requirement for the Officers of an independent corporation to also be Jehovah’s Witnesses or Elders. Therefore, while you can remove them as elders, you can not legally remove them from their positions on the corporate board.
Perhaps the most poignant moment from the Menlo Park case came when Watchtower’s legal representative, Calvin Rouse, made the following declaration in court…
“Ordinarily I wouldn’t be here, but this is one of our 13,000 congregations in the United States. We are a hierarchical religion structured just like the Catholic Church. And when the order from the Pope comes down in the church defrocking a priest and kicking him out, he no longer has any say in any matter in the local parish priest – in the parish. The same situation as here. In his complaint he brings one claim. He claims that he wants to be reinstated as a director and an officer in the Menlo Park Congregation. This is contrary to our church rules and regulations and bylaws. We brought our organizational bylaws book, our rule book here, and we are prepared to present witnesses that this is a hierarchical organization.” — court transcript
The Watchtower Bible and Tract Society is one of the largest private development companies in the world, in possession of over 80,000 properties worldwide. (According to the Watchtower LDC meeting, Patterson, Nov 15-18, 2014)
Again, all by volunteers and donations—no employees expenditures like social security, health and life insurance, nor taxes, etc.
Imagine if the parent non-profit corporation discerned it was pertinent, given the times, for the congregations to go underground?
Now, remember, the broadcast is to give Jehovah your valuable things because the Watchtower has more expenditures than income—why?
Did leaders of Jehovah’s Witnesses cover up child sex abuse? PBS NewsHour special correspondent Trey Bundy of the CIR’s Reveal reports on how the Watchtower organization is using the first amendment to fight these charges.
The Handling of Cases of Child Sexual Abuse Watchtower Judicial Committee = Obstruction of Criminal Justice “Leave it in Jehovah’s hands”
— Angela Marié Glass (@Ang) December 17, 2015
In the United States, the Watchtower Defendants in the Candace Conti case have now lodged an appeal the case with four main arguments:
“If therefore you are offering your gift at the altar, and there remember that your brother has anything against you, leave your gift there before the altar, and go your way. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift. Agree with your adversary quickly, while you are with him on the way; lest perhaps the prosecutor deliver you to the judge, and the judge deliver you to the officer, and you be cast into prison. Most certainly I tell you, you shall by no means get out of there, until you have paid the last penny.‡”
“Would you disagree then with anyone who said that the efforts to highlight and deal with child sexual abuse in the church is engaging in apostate lies?” — Asked Australia’s royal commission into institutional responses to child sexual abuse of Geoffrey Jackson, Watchtower governing body member.
In summary, the Watchtower tells of when the world’s religious system will turn on Babylon the Great who symbolizes ‘false religion’. Meanwhile, the Jehovah’s Witnesses, who claim to be no part of Christendom, have been making headlines for selling chunks of their sizable Brooklyn holdings in preparation for a move upstate to their new world headquarters in Warwick.
The organization, which has been headquartered in Brooklyn Heights since 1909, owned 42 Brooklyn buildings before it began selling them off in 2004. And according to city records, it’s sold $425 million worth of New York City property since then — not including around $100 million of properties in contract, according to published reports.
By comparison, the organization’s new 253-acre campus in Warwick, N.Y., will cost an estimated $11.5 million to build.
As reported by the Watchtower’s Awake magazine, “By the end of 2004, three Catholic dioceses in the United States had filed for bankruptcy. All three were forced to take this step because of the financial costs of clergy sexual abuse scandals. A number of dioceses have talked about the possibility of having to file for bankruptcy, but the first to do so was the Archdiocese of Portland, Oregon, in July 2004. That action halted two lawsuits in which plaintiffs were seeking a total of $155 million in compensation for molestation. According to the National Catholic Reporter, “the archdiocese and its insurers already have paid more than $53 million to settle more than 130 claims by people who say they were abused by priests.” In September 2004, the diocese of Tucson, Arizona, became the second diocese to seek bankruptcy protection from multimillion dollar claims being brought against it. The diocese of Spokane, Washington, became the third, in December 2004.”
According to a spokesperson for the Witnesses, 18 properties remain. Those properties include 25 Columbia Heights and a large parcel between Vine Street and Columbia Heights in the Brooklyn Heights area, as well as massive Dumbo site 85 Jay Street, which is zoned for residential development.
The group’s $1 billion portfolio of buildings — which also includes holdings in the East Village — has been marketed variously by Massey Knakal, Cushman & Wakefield, and Eastern Consolidated. This past July, a partnership led by Jared Kushner’s Kushner Companies and Aby Rosen’s RFR Holdings announced that it was buying six Dumbo buildings totaling 1.2 million square feet from the Witnesses for $375 million. The industrial buildings will be developed into loft-style office space. The deal is set to be Brooklyn’s largest this year.
The Watchtower places children in the organization at significant risk for sexual abuse
Meanwhile the Royal Australian Commission find that the practices and procedures of the Jehovah’s Witness organization for the prevention of child sexual abuse, and in particular for the management of the risk of an abuser reoffending, do not take account of the actual risk of an offender reoffending and accordingly place children in the organization at significant risk of sexual abuse.
Royal Commission findings on Watchtower shunning
Members of the Jehovah’s Witness organization who no longer want to be subject to the organization’s rules and discipline have no alternative than to leave the organization which requires that they disassociate from it.
The Jehovah’s Witness organization’s policy of requiring its adherents to actively shun those who leave the organization:
Luke 18 One day Jesus told his disciples a story to show that they should always pray and never give up…
“There was a judge in a certain city,” he said, “who neither feared God nor cared about people. A widow of that city came to him repeatedly, saying, ‘Give me justice in this dispute with my enemy.’ The judge ignored her for a while, but finally he said to himself, ‘I don’t fear God or care about people, but this woman is driving me crazy. I’m going to see that she gets justice, because she is wearing me out with her constant requests!’”
Then the Lord said, “Learn a lesson from this unjust judge. Even he rendered a just decision in the end. So don’t you think God will surely give justice to his chosen people who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? I tell you, he will grant justice to them quickly! But when the Son of Man returns, how many will he find on the earth who have faith?”
Woe to those who make unjust laws,
to those who issue oppressive decrees,
to deprive the poor of their rights
and withhold justice from the oppressed of my people,
making widows their prey
and robbing the fatherless…
What will you do on the day of reckoning,
when disaster comes from afar?
To whom will you run for help?
Where will you leave your riches?
“Get out of her my people…!“ (Rev 18:4, Jer 51:45)
Nothing will remain but to cringe among the captives
—or fall among the slain.
Yet for all this, his anger is not turned away,
his hand is still upraised.
“Why is there no mandatory reporting to a country’s judicial authorities when crimes occur? Taking actions against perpetrators is part of justice.”
Monsignor Charles Scicluna, the Vatican’s former chief sex crimes prosecutor, denied that the Holy See encourage cover-ups.
“Our guideline has always been that domestic law of the countries where the churches operate needs to be followed,” he said.
Archbishop Silvano Tomasi, the Vatican’s representative in Geneva, said that the Holy See welcomed any suggestions, which could help it in protecting children.
Since his election last year, Pope Francis has appeared to offer new hope to victims, with a call for action on sex abuse in the Church. Under his papacy, a Vatican committee has been set up to fight sexual abuse and help victims.
In a report by Vatican Radio, the Pope asked for forgiveness for the “evil” damage to children caused by sexual abusers in the clergy and said “sanctions” would be imposed.
After a spate of new cases in 2010, the Vatican issued new rules saying bishops should report suspected cases of abuse to local police, if required to do so by law.
The UN’s Committee on the Rights of the Child (CRC) said the Vatican Holy See had not acknowledged the extent of crimes committed and had not taken the measures necessary to address cases of child sexual abuse and to protect children.
Reacting to the UN report in February, Barbara Blaine, the president of Snap (Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests), said it was clear that the Vatican had put the reputation of Church officials above protection of children.
“Despite all the rhetoric from Pope Francis and Vatican officials, they refuse to take action that will make this stop.” she said.
In 2011, the Watch Tower Society had 98 branch offices worldwide reporting to New York directly with other nations’ offices report to large branches nearby. The sale of the entire Spain branch complex will likely be for more than US $100 million dollars, with the Denmark Assembly Hall and seven additional Kingdom Halls up for sale for more than $30 million.
If expenditures, as Brother Lett says, are more than the Society’s income, then just where is all this money going?
“Toxins cause leukemia, at least according to Mr. Rob0t,” Angela warns the volunteers working for ‘the Society’ at their new headquarters in upstate New York. Concerns are that while the Watchtower Society may be able to protect their vested interests in the property and it’s financial value, they cannot protect their volunteers from exposure to the toxic chemicals.
The Watchtower Bible and Tract Society began as simple American religion financed by William Henry Conley (11 June 1840 – 25 July 1897). William was trained by his uncle in the printing business for ten years, and was a Pittsburgh philanthropist and industrialist. He was married to Sarah Shaffer (1841–1908). Together, they provided organizational and financial support to religious institutions in the United States.
William Conley was the first president of Zion’s Watch Tower Tract Society, from 1881 to 1884.
In 1896, the Society was renamed Watch Tower Bible and Tract Society, and later became associated with Jehovah’s Witnesses.
In April 1909, the Watchtower moved to Brooklyn, New York.
In 2004 the Watchtower, the society began moving their headquarters after more than 100 years in Brooklyn, NY.
The new headquarters in Warwick, New York is being built by volunteer Jehovah’s Witnesses, such as my parents Arlene and Melvin Baxley (pictured above).
The Watchtower Bible and Tract Society is suing International Nickel and several of its affiliates, which it accuses of contaminating land where the religious group is now building its massive 1.6 million-square-foot world headquarters. Watchtower is seeking unspecified reimbursement for the cost it has incurred in the cleanup and remediation. It is also seeking damages, restitution and attorney fees.
The Watchtower recently began acquiring even more property when they began converting their “Kingdom Halls” over from private properties owned by the individual congregations into corporate property owned by ‘the Society‘.
The Watchtower is leaving Brooklyn, last property lists for $400 million = $ One #Billion two hundred two Million four hundred fifty thousand.
That’s more dollars than … Jehovah’s Witnesses.
But who’s counting?
Throughout the course of mankind women and girls have been subject to the pressure of social messages instructing and reinforcing them as to how to “do” their gender, and as to how to be real, or true women. These ideals are then repeated or reproduced through their enactments and learned by successive generations with slight modifications accommodating for changes in the times, or namely the economy and politics. Simply put—the ideals of true womanhood are formed, reinforced, and passed down through generations of women.
Society’s expectations of women in regard to feeding, infertility, childbearing, particularly as social attitudes and technologies have changed.
I’m ready to create—to use the tools we created, the platforms, the surfaces, the languages, the software, the servers, the networks,…
Remember when I was a wee one on the internet
Long before we’d ever met?
I was the guild leader’s girlfriend
I played first chair, first violin
A performing arts student
And touch prone to sin
Cailynn was my character’s name
A level 55 rogue or so
Before I’d never play her again
SpunkyGidget was my pseudo-name
When the internet became a game
And life was never the same
“Women in Technology” worn like a wet t-shirt
They disposed of Ms. Dewey’s digital body
Like she was a Jimmy Chou model
“Why don’t you tell them the truth?
Say what you want to say,
and let the words fall out,
honestly, I want to see you be brave!”
We never worked together, not technically speaking.
Isn’t it about time?
You inspire me, I’ve created a classroom of kids who need some of you…
I hear we can connect face-to-face through technology, almost like we were there… once, sitting around the on the carpet in living room.
After all, that’s what brought us together IRL.
And in my dreams, one day, I’ll see you again soon in person.
stuck behind a keyboard, characters in keystroke converted into bits and bites bypassing languages to be recorded while they carry no real content.
If the inmates are still running the asylums, let’s be creatively free:
I’m ready to create—to use the tools we created, the platforms, the surfaces, the languages, the software, the servers, the networks,…
Would it be so hard to cobble all this stuff we have laying around in our digital garages and turn it into something useful to communicate cultural and creative content?
— Angela Marié Glass (@Ang) December 5, 2015
I mean isn’t it as easy as connecting the dots of services that are out there to explain how easy it is to … connect the dots?
Dear Mols, I miss me. Do you miss me too?
I love you.
Allen Eugene Rodman, Kirkwood Police Officer, passed away on Saturday, October 31, 2015 in St. Louis, Missouri. Allen was buried in Woodland Cemetery in Van Wert, Ohio.
He was the beloved of Jessica Marie Dacus, the son and first born of Wanda Carolyn and the late Graydon Rodman, and a loving father of Michal l’Lena and Evan Elijah Rodman, and to Christopher and Shelby.
Allen will be missed by his only brother, Burton Lowell Rodman, his family and his mother.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there; I did not die.
And you jump from yer bed, from yer last chapter of dreamin’
And you can’t remember for the best of yer thinking
If that was you in the dream that was screaming
Much less could his declining age Vanessa’s earliest thoughts engage;
— Darryl + Angela (@thebelovedglass) February 9, 2015
Whom Pallas once, Vanessa’s tutor, Had fix’d on for her coadjutor.
— Baxley+Glass (@BaxleyGlass) February 9, 2015
Cadenus many things had writ: Vanessa much esteem’d his wit,
— Gidget Glass (@GlassGidget) February 9, 2015
Nor shall Vanessa be the theme To manage thy abortive scheme:
— Baxley (@Baxley) February 9, 2015
Both sexes, arm’d with guilt and spite, Against Vanessa’s power unite:
— Angela Marié Glass (@Ang) February 9, 2015
But, not to dwell on things minute, Vanessa finish’d the dispute;
— Andrea Verardi Duty (@dreamnibbles) February 9, 2015
Dedicated to Candace Conti and other little boys and girls who are dead or molested.
Jehovah’s Witnesses need not apply. Where did anyone say that anyone would be serving that god in the end? Oh, you’re right. He does factor in…
— Baxley (@Baxley) October 30, 2014
Dear Watchtower at http://t.co/hbC2qywaIv, Your Contact Us Page e-mail link on your website is broken. How do I email you?
— Angela Glass (@Baxley) October 30, 2014
I wanted to design software for the Watchtower when I was 15 years old at it’s headquarters, “Brooklyn Beth’el“.
The Watchtower Corporation of NY, the one that’s moving out so no one notice’s that they topped the richest companies list for the city.
— Angela Glass (@Baxley) October 30, 2014
Guess what? God created Eve, and Eve was naked. And it was good. God said so. He also created weed. He also said it was good to eat.
I was so sweet before you guys got to me. Guess what? While you sleep and dream… Charlotte’s tangled web unweaves… believe. — Angela Glass (@Baxley) October 30, 2014
Religion is a whore. She gave women a bad name. Catholics who give children away in the name of no shame. Universal. — Angela Glass (@Baxley) October 30, 2014
I was turned down. They don’t generally “take sisters“.
Here’s what I did instead: www.linkedin.com/in/angelamarieglass.
“Angela experienced a crisis from an ill marriage and lack of support from the congregation.”
You know what makes me not sleep? Fearing for the children until the adults all die.
— Angela Glass (@Ang) October 30, 2014
For the record, you don’t lose your faith when you stop believing God is Jehovah. But Melissa doesn’t know what losing my religion is all about. Girl, I was a hoarder, and I still am though that was back then. Show you a few things, pretend to be my friend? Oh don’t mind slandering the Baxley’s while you’re at it for the blood of the noble Niblick’s.
Funny, baxleyvsunitedstates.org versus the Dominican nephew determined to shame me—calling me the “shameful aunt”.
I took it in silence. I have learned how to turn away so it doesn’t sink in. No, not really. It really hurt. But hey, I haven’t got time to buy a new deodarant stick of Tom’s every two months — so I use it but it doesn’t work. I have no cash and thus I stink and am not buying it on Amazon and paying for shipping. So I am waiting until someone thinks I stink enough to do something about it. They have a pretty high tolerance.
When I asked if they were going to stay there—in the DR—he sold me this line from his daddy’s mouth: they aren’t living there, they are missionaries. — For Christ’s sake, who hasn’t heard of God? Oh, yeah…
God isn’t Jehovah. Jehovah isn’t peddling love, he’s got Watchtowers to print and has just discovered the Internet.
Well I was in the middle of pestering this corporation called “The Watchtower” on Twitter, when I realized I needed a mood swing. Being a heavy hitter dealing with porno and pedo’s is a bit much for this do-gooder.
I asked a guy today to film dying children and he told me that he wasn’t interested in children. He wants to do it tho. And Porn.
— Angela Glass (@Ang) October 30, 2014
In foreign soil, in foreign land Who will guide us through the end? —Vampire Weekend, Worship You Answer: Rev 7 Topic: Jews in Exodus? — SMRTr World (@SMRTrWorld) October 30, 2014
I mean the internet is for porn, right?
Well anyhoo, distracted again from that to get the video to prove the point that I’m not lost on how I feel about life, I’m just so DAMNED tired of having to stay up all night to work against all of you.
Sometimes I can’t help but feel like a momma Muppet… Should I tuck him in? pic.twitter.com/iNF9x22YYc
— SMRTr World (@SMRTrWorld) October 28, 2014
So I /quit.
Yeah, see I’m not a cultural fit. I’m not a woman in technology and there’s no way come hell or high water, well—we all know which—I would never have a daughter, as I could never let her see this world. Dear God, preserve my seed within me. Save my belly for the beast. I am yours and have ever been devoted. I am sorry for so long I thought that the Watchtower’s disapproval of me was somehow was the directive from God. Dear God, if you don’t love me—Um? Who could you?
A couple of weeks before she died, Rebecca informed us that she was about to be a big girl of six years old, and Becca was a baby name. Once she turned six, she wanted everyone (not just me) to call her Rebecca, not Becca. She made it to six. For almost twelve hours, she was six. So Rebecca it is and must be.
Travis Foote, you touched me one too many times. And my mother blamed me. The Watchtower will pay and you shall be certain you won’t see the outside of that cell. Enjoy.
I’m ready. I’m not a clown, exactly. I’m the last generation.
I’m the joker. Hello thief, it’s time.
But instead I decided to be < ANON. Hi Watchtower. I heard you have a governing body and a corporation but only Jehovah’s spirit. Holy.
— Angela Glass (@Ang) October 30, 2014
In 2006 I wrote a paper about gender in toys, “Toys R Us—Engendering Children Are Us” for my UW Sociology of Family course.
Now it’s 2014 and we’re demolishing gender stereotypes and disrupting the pink aisle…
Sterling realized she was one of the only female engineering majors at Stanford University.
“When Debbie Sterling set out to create GoldieBlox engineering toys for girls, she was hoping to sell much more than a product. She was hoping to inspire a movement that could eventually change the gender ratio in the engineering industry,” reports Danielle Abril from the Dallas Business Journal. Continue reading
“Knowing and having faith that the system … that might be one of the additional super powers, that quite frankly, that women who don’t ask for raises have… because that’s good karma. It will come back.”—Nadella, at the 2014 Grace Hopper Celebration of Women in Computing conference
Publishing today in response to Microsoft’s CEO Nadella’s perspective of the super hero powers of women like me who don’t ask for raises.
Bad Karma Coming Out of the Closet
I treated this situation as confidentially as I could, to the extent possible, as asked, for as long as I possibly could. I think I did pretty well, no?Photo credit @DotBen “SpunkyGidget at Mix ’06“
“Knowing and having faith that the system … that might be one of the additional super powers, that quite frankly, that women who don’t ask for raises have… because that’s good karma. It will come back.”—Nadella, at the 2014 Grace Hopper Celebration of Women in Computing conference
“I’m absolutely reeling,” said Rachel Sklar, who in 2010 founded Change the Ratio, a group focused on increasing visibility for women in tech. “He put to words the massive fear women have in asking for raises and told them to trust in a system that is proven to be broken.”
Karma doesn’t pay the bills. Women of Microsoft should collectively demand pay equity. @satyanadella
— Carmen Hudson (@peopleshark) October 10, 2014
Nadella also said he would “not fall for the crutch of the supply-side excuse” of women in tech, and that Microsoft was attempting to improve, despite recently released Microsoft diversity numbers that were similarly dismal to most tech companies. He advised women to be persistent in breaking into the industry.
I wonder what the percentage was when I was at Microsoft?
— Angela Glass (@Ang) October 11, 2014
“It’s not really about asking for the raise, but knowing and having faith that the system will actually give you the right raises as you go along…That, I think, might be one of the additional superpowers that, quite frankly, women who don’t ask for a raise have. Because that’s good karma. It’ll come back because somebody’s going to know that’s the kind of person that I want to trust. That’s the kind of person that I want to really give more responsibility to. And in the long-term efficiency, things catch up.” — Microsoft CEO Satya Nadella
I don’t believe in karma—”good karma” has never caught up with me.
Byline: Melissa A. Glass
Instructor: Barbara Presnell
Introducing, Ms. Melissa Glass…
Oh! Breathe Not His Name
by Thomas Moore (1779–1852)
OH! breathe not his name,—let it sleep in the shade,
Where cold and unhonored his relics are laid;
Sad, silent, and dark, be the tears that we shed,
As the night-dew that falls on the grass o’er his head.
But the night-dew that falls, though in silence it weeps,
Shall brighten with verdure the grave where he sleeps;
And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls,
Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.
As a child my sister and I were placed in the care of a pedophile in our congregation—Meet Travis Foote who, with his wife, baby sat us kids.
Travis raped his two daughters (younger than Heather and I who were in our early teens).
He later is convicted and sentenced when he, with another man, raped, beaten, and then throw a woman over a bridge left for dead.
She survived the 35-foot fall with a broken neck and brought Travis to a measure of justice.
I didn’t learn about Travis until after I’d moved away from home. I moved to Texas, the Foote’s moved to Oklahoma.
Back home, Travis and his family (his wife Michelle and their children) were in our congregation.
My mother let us stay over at their place. She thought it was okay because Michelle, his wife, was around. Yet we weren’t allowed to play at our friend’s homes if they had older brothers.
I once threw a milkshake on him at the dinner table for something he did to me under the table, literally. I got sent to my room for the milkshake incident. Funny how things work out, huh?
No one knew about Michelle’s daughters being raped. He wasn’t convicted of raping his daughters because no one brought that to the police.
It’s just a side fact in another case, where his “former wife, Michelle Finney, testified that Petitioner had told her that he had had sexual relations with other young girls. She further testified that Petitioner had told her about his sexual fantasies involving young girls. See TR III at 634-648.”
Michelle testifies “told her he had tried to have intercourse with H. F., his cousin who was then twelve or thirteen years old, but that “it hurt her and he had to stop.”” (see court appeal Travis filed)
He had sex with the other cousin, A.F. prior to her being 15 years old.
Michelle found a note from her to Travis stating “she didn’t regret what had happened between them”.
He had sex with another girl, Tamara when she was 15 or 16. Later she becomes his girlfriend.
At the trial her then 11 year old niece testifies as the star witness, detailing Travis’ abuse of her when she was seven years old.
In a charging information filed on December 16, 2003,…
Petitioner was charged with the offenses of
The charges … involve a violent sexual assault of a female victim by two men.
The victim was taken by the men in a pick-up truck to a remote location in Pottawatomie County where she was raped, beaten, and then thrown over a bridge.
The victim survived the attack, although she sustained serious injuries in the approximately 35-foot fall from the bridge, including a broken neck … [After an initial mistrial],… Petitioner was charged with the offenses of
[T]he jury found Petitioner guilty of all three counts and recommended sentences of thirty years, twenty years, and ten years, respectively.
A child in Victoria, Australia pooled his pocket money together with three other buddies in order to pay $69.70 to launch a private criminal prosecution against the Jehovah’s Witnesses of the Watchtower Bible and Tract Society in February.
The Victorian and Civil Administrative Tribunal heard a religious vilification complaint against the Watchtower by Mr. Unthank in May, after the Watchtower said people who left the Watchtower, as he had, were ”mentally diseased”. Continue reading
Domestic violence and sexual abuse are often called “women’s issues.” But in this bold, blunt talk, Jackson Katz points out that these are intrinsically men’s issues — and shows how these violent behaviors are tied to definitions of manhood. A clarion call for us all — women and men — to call out unacceptable behavior and be leaders of change.
Jackson Katz asks a very important question that gets at the root of why sexual abuse, rape and domestic abuse remain a problem: What’s going on with men? Continue reading
“‘These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. They worship me in vain; their teachings are merely human rules.’ You have let go of the commands of God and are holding on to human traditions.”
“‘Jehovah’—because of people’s familiarity with it since the 14th century. Moreover, it preserves, equally with other forms, the four letters of the tetragrammaton JHVH.” — The Watchtower defends “shallow scholarship” in response to “Jehovah Not Correct as God’s Name”
If you meet a Jehovah’s Witness they’ll tell you God’s name is Jehovah, and they probably don’t even know that it’s not true.
They probably whole heartedly believe that what they were taught was “the truth” and that it is a life-saving message that they bring to you.
Go easy on them. I know how much it hurts to learn you’ve been lied to all your life.
So, please if you can, help in this campaign:
“I’m an optimist, but I’m an impatient optimist,” Bill Gates said during his speech. “The world is not getting better fast enough, and it’s not getting better for everyone.”
“There are billions of people who need the great inventions of the computer age, and many more basic needs as well, but they have no way of expressing their needs in ways that matter to the market, so they go without,” said Gates. “If we are going to have a chance of changing their lives, we need another level of innovation. Not just technology innovation, we need system innovation, and that’s what I want to discuss with you here in Davos today.”
“The challenge here is to design a system where market incentives, including profits and recognition, drive those principles to do more for the poor,” said Gates. “I like to call this idea creative capitalism, an approach where governments, businesses, and nonprofits work together to stretch the reach of market forces so that more people can make a profit, or gain recognition, doing work that eases the world’s inequities.”
The Baxley & Glass families of Charlotte, North Carolina
have been family friends for generations.
Darryl “expounds upon Angela’s virtues a little”
“Angela is personable, beautiful, loving, joyful, spiritual-minded, brilliant, playful, serious about important things, sociable, likable, engaging, charming, studious, always thirsting for knowledge, one of the best friends a person can have, and she’s committed to ‘us’.
Angela is a designer in the tech world, I am a consultant in the business tech world. She loves people, family, and culture, like me. She loves to travel and experience other cultures, like me. She’s anxious for the end of this bad system and being a part of God’s new one, like me. She hates all the cruel injustices of this world, like me. She wants to make life a little better for people, like me. She loves the Bible, like me. She believes in the enjoyment of life, like me. She loves the ocean and the beach, like me. She’s also weird and slightly off, like me. All in all, we’re a pretty good fit. 🙂 Good thing since we are becoming “one flesh.'”
“I just asked for the guy version of me.”
HERBERT LOWELL SCHAADT, 78, of Fort Wayne, passed away on Thursday, June 13, 2013, at Visiting Nurse Hospice Home.
Born April 26, 1935, in Willshire, Ohio, Herb was a son of the late Dorothy Fritz ＆ Edward Schaadt.
and 13 great-grandchildren
He was also preceded in death by his son, Randy; and brothers, Richard and Raymond.
Service is 2 p.m. Monday, June 17, 2013, with viewing two hours prior to the service, at Dooley Funeral Home, 202 W. River St., Antwerp, Ohio. He will be laid to rest at Maumee Cemetery. Memorials to Hospice Home.
Condolences and fond memories may be shared at www.dooleyfuneralhome.com.
Published in Fort Wayne Newspapers on June 15, 2013
I went back to do the dishes and thought to myself, ‘this isn’t the life I want’. Did I tell you? I had even tried to convince myself that I just had to get things all in order so that everything in life would be ‘ready’. See how that worked out? Needless to say these hands have yet to hit dishwater. So much for Southern.
But is there really anything wrong with that?
If someone would give me just one cup, plate, bowl, spoon, fork, mug and what else do I need?
I’ll tell you what, just a really cool place to put them!
I need to figure out how to be happy, or this is going to suddenly feel like a very long life, I get the feeling, from here on out…
Today is the day that my daddy died, 30 years ago today, or some time within 12 hours or so either way, because I can never quite remember if the accident happened the night before, or if it was already considered the next day, and when it was that he died, or rather, how long it took him to die. And since I move so damn often, the paper which answers this question every year when I inevitably go searching for it to determine once again, for another year, just it was ‘when’ that ‘what’ happened, is buried in boxes which are worn and disheveled from the packing, repacking, and moving again, again, and again.
Any way, I’m listening to Yo-Yo Ma do Johan Sebastian Bach while considering doing my dishes, or just throwing out all my clothes, …or just moving to a life I’d prefer to be living?
It wouldn’t take a psychiatrist to be able to tell you that if I could have anyone with me here tonight to have a glass of single girl microwaved a few seconds to knock the chill off red refrigerated wine it would be my dad. No, not the one who called yesterday to make sure that I was okay, I think because he knows even if only from the signs from my mother’s odder than usual behavior triggered by it nearing that day again… No, I mean my father, the one who gave me life. He was an artist and a lover, a singer and a movie maker, although I have to tell you his song in the band is pretty much dreadful.
Here’s Dog Sweat, by Matthew Raymond Morris Michael Niblick. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, you’ll want to cover your ears. But to me, it’s music. That’s my daddy’s voice. When I heard this ‘song’ this past year, it was the first I’d heard my daddy’s voice, since he died thirty years ago. Still, Dad! What were you thinking?!
He was my father's "Father" until he found God for himself.
— Angela Marié Glass (@Ang) December 9, 2015
Years ago my aunt, the nun, apparently worked in the same parish as Father Alfred Kunz, a rebel Roman Catholic priest who performed exorcisms. They became friends, and like all friends of the Niblick’s at some point he was at the house with the family. Father Al admired my father’s art and invited Matthew out to work on his church in Dane, Wisconsin. What artist would deny the Church as a patron, not even Da Vinci?
Just a few years later, my father dies in a tragic accident in the lonely hours of that pre-light March morning.
Nobody foresaw it on that cold, gray March morning, but the aftermath of Kunz’s death would get strange, and then even stranger. There would be stories of exorcism referrals, a satanic assassination and, eventually, innuendos of sexual impropriety by Kunz, who was known at St. Michael simply as “Father Al.”
Later, there would even be allegations that his murder could somehow be linked to evil in the most unthinkable of places: the vast Catholic hierarchy that Kunz was tied to as a diocesan priest. Some even blame the Vatican in Rome.
In the absence of an arrest, the Kunz case also has developed into a religious Rorschach for many — certainly among those close to the case who consider themselves traditionalists within the troubled Roman Catholic Church, which all but invented the Easter holiday as Western civilization knows it today.
Fifteen years later—March 4, MCMXCVIII—fifteen years ago today, Father Al was found murdered.
“Fifteen years later, someone could still be haunted…
The all-consuming rage at the cockeyed old priest; the uncontainable hatred, day after freezing winter day. The wee-hours confrontation in a dim school hallway outside the priest’s office, where he’d slept like a castaway for the past 31 years.
The attack, the frantic struggle: It all ended in a heartbeat, when the killer plunged a razor-sharp blade into Father Alfred Kunz’s neck, slicing the major artery below his jaw.
And then came all the blood — warm, slippery torrents of it, coating the painted cinderblock walls and the worn, gritty floor tiles. Almost instantly, Kunz fainted into a lifeless heap, his white T-shirt and black slacks soaked from the gaping wound. According to emergency room medical experts, he would have lived for about another minute, probably in a deep, dreamlike haze.
Asperges me domine… Thou shalt sprinkle me, O Lord…
… et mundabo. …and I shall be cleansed.”
Pedophilic Satanism in the bed of Roman Catholicism—the Vatican, otherwise known as the house of Babylon the Great—exorcisms, animal sacrifice, Luciferians; it’s a terrifyingly truthful tale entitled “The Devil and Father Kunz: An Easter tale about murder, the Catholic Church and the strange paths of good and evil“.
Kunz had also traveled to Rome and met Pope John Paul II as the pontiff prayed alone one morning at a secluded Vatican chapel.
One of Kunz’s closest associates was best-selling novelist Malachi Martin, a one-time Vatican insider under Pope John XXIII, who convened Vatican II. Martin would later leave the Vatican circle and become an exorcist, as well as the author of six religious novels, one of which, “Windswept House,” was compared to “Dr. Zhivago” by the Washington Post in 1996…
“What Luciferians resent is interference with someone they regard as theirs,” Martin told me in that interview, adding that his friend believed his life was in danger in the weeks before his death. “We are all convinced beyond anything that Father Kunz was killed in hatred of the faith as punishment — and as an example for the rest of us.”
Martin also repeated his belief that the aftermath of Vatican II was nothing less than a coup by Satanic forces – that, he said, was why he eventually broke with the church’s new mainstream after Vatican II. Martin wrote about the alleged dark influence often in his novels. In “Windswept House,” for instance, he described a satanic animal sacrifice linked by telephone to the Vatican’s Chapel of St. Paul – and the account does bear eerie similarities to a calf mutilation that occurred near Dane almost exactly 24 hours before Kunz was last seen alive.
It’s been thirty years later now, and I wonder more than ever of the short days of my father on this earth. I find 33 a little young to feel so world weary, just look at all my father got in by 23.
I had wondered about whether or not my dad had ever made it to San Francisco the year he hitch hiked across the United States to California for his summer vacation when he was 15. As I realize that he escaped from a Moonie camp, whose home base was in Boonville north of San Francisco out past wine country, it dawns on me, of course he did.
And maybe one day I’ll make it out to Father Al’s church in Dane, Wisconsin, to see my father’s art, though I doubt it… I imagine it would be hard to concentrate with the image of the slain Father Al, hanging before me, throat cut from ear-to-ear, beheaded and bled.
Eve the First Woman (4026 – 3074 BC) is your 133rd great grandmother (through Cain and Magog) Continue reading
I am emotional. I feel betrayed. I was raised in faith that the Watchtower was God’s organization. I believed that my mom and dad knew the answers that one day I’d come to learn. I just felt slow and stupid and that eventually I’d get it. I trusted. I had faith. I believed. I knew my parents were smarter than me. I had read it in the poem that hang on his bedroom wall.
I now learn that while they can’t answer me from the scriptures when will my father live again they will deny the scriptures as they are written as truth.
“And the rest of the dead do not come to life until the end of the thousand years.” — Revelation 20:5
Despite that verse, and the one which precedes it which clearly defines who will partake in the first resurrection (which is immediately followed by this verse—”And the rest of the dead do not come to life until the end of the thousand years.”) she’d say that “apparently” my father, and all other loved ones, such as my uncles and my best friend, will come to life again during the thousand year reign.
“But who will they rule over?”, she asked. Continue reading
Life is infinitely stranger than anything the mind could invent.
— Sir Aurthur Conan Doyle
I couldn’t invent the story of my life if I tried, it’s hard enough figuring out how to write it. Life has been non-stop and I just can’t seem to figure out how I’d ever explain it all — I imagine with the tools now I can basically rig up a wedding photo montage with music introducing the couple style experience if I could just compile all the images (curate them) and add the details like the music, atmospheric settings, etc, and if technology could only get as good as the ideal—it being fully recorded for full sensorial experience upon playback, upon editing.
“Unlikely adventures require unlikely tools.” — Mr. Magorium
Randy Lowell Schaadt, 55, of Fort Wayne, passed away Friday, September 21, 2012 at his sister’s residence in Antwerp, Ohio.
Randy, known by his three sisters as “Bubby“, asks that you watch his collection of family photos (on Flickr, above) with the accompanying track “GOODBYE” (below, on SoundCloud) as a slideshow… Angela suggests playing the video (further below, on YouTube) on low volume over the soundtrack as you watch the slideshow, too.
Randy was born in Van Wert, Ohio on August 31, 1957, the son of Laura “Katy” (Hilton) and Herbert Schaadt of Fort Wayne.
He will be sadly missed by his parents and sisters, Wanda Rodman of Antwerp, Arlene (Melvin) Baxley of Statesville, NC & Audrey Knapp of Hobe Sound, Florida.
By 1977, with a fledgling community of committed and dedicated people, and with a sound teaching that inspired us to live our ideals, the Unification movement in California had grown rapidly. Our first challenge was to become ourselves a model of what we wanted the world to become. The love-ethic presented in the Divine Principle demanded a life of prayer, study, and service to others. We sought within our community to be caring, creative, and loving people, and upon this foundation to work actively for the sake of God and humanity.
We called ourselves “The Creative Community Project” and used a former fraternity house on Hearst Street as a place to teach the Divine Principle at luncheon and dinner programs. We were inspired by an ideal and wanted above all to communicate that ideal to those around us who, so it seemed, had very little commitment to anything other than self-interest.
Most people we encountered had only the foggiest sense of ethics, so we felt great meaning in sharing with them, through our dinner discussions and lectures, the significance of our own ethical ideals. Those who were serious and wanted to pursue those ideals further were invited to workshops at Boonville and, later, to other country retreats. — To Bigotry, No Sanction: Reverend Sun Myung Moon and the Unification Church by Dr. Mose Durst
Growing up in the San Francisco Bay area, Scott Keeler, 18, knew what every other teenager knew. As one of his classmates put it, “There’s this place you can go if you’re fighting with your parents. They’ll take care of you.”
But unlike most of the others, Keeler also knew that the “place,” Creative Community Project, was owned and run by the Rev. Sun Myung Moon‘s Unification Church. As student body president at Alameda, Calif. High School and reporter for his school paper, Oak Leaf, Keeler decided last spring to go underground and investigate the Moonies.
Using the alias Dirk Schwerte, he quickly discovered that Moonie recruiters were on the lookout for unattached teenagers.
“All anyone has to do,” he says, “is put on his backpack and walk down to Fisherman’s Wharf.” Though no mention was made of Reverend Moon or his church, Keeler was invited to the Moonies’ San Francisco headquarters. Here is his account of his bizarre experiences:
Creative Community Project is a large white Victorian house on Washington Street. I felt my stomach in my throat as I jabbed the doorbell. Before I could ring again, the door swung open. “Come on and join our circle,” said a young man with a fixed smile. He offered his hand. I cautiously took it and sat down. He squeezed my hand, smiling and staring at me.
Later a low-protein, vegetarian dinner of rice and broccoli was served. I noticed that all the first-time visitors had acquired a new Moonie friend hanging close by their side. “Come on, let’s go over and pull up some rug,” said a young man, putting his arm around me and beaming. His name was Bob. I noticed he didn’t have any food.
“Aren’t you eating?” I asked.
“No, I’m fasting this week. It’s spiritual fasting. Some of the people in our community do it.”
An hour and a half later Bob was still sitting beside me and holding my hand. We were being lectured by a Moonie leader named Sherri Sagar when there was a loud crash at the front door. A man was shouting “Jeannie!” and trying to force his way in. Suddenly at least 25 Moonie reinforcements flooded the entry, trying to push him back out. “Where is Jeannie?” he shouted. “Jeannie! Jeannie!”
“There’s no Jeannie here,” insisted one of the Moonies. “You’ll have to leave.”
“What do you mean?” shouted the man, clinging to the door molding. “She came here last week, you bastards! What have you done with her?”
The Moonies kept pushing, peeling his fingers from the door, and finally shoved him outside. We could hear him shouting after the door was closed and locked.
“What was that about?” I asked Bob.
“Just somebody being negative,” he said. “People attack us because they don’t understand what we’re doing.”
At the end of the evening everyone clasped hands and formed a circle. “Okay!” said Sherri Sagar. “I hope you all liked what you saw tonight and will come up to our farm. We have cars leaving tonight. But before everybody goes, we’re going to do a mass Choo-Choo!” The newcomers shrugged and exchanged glances. “Got it?” she shouted. “It’s easy! Just shake your partner’s hand until we’re through. Ready? One, two, three—Choo-choo-choo! Choo-choo-choo! Choo-choo-choo! Yea, yea, pow!” We newcomers began to laugh, but the Moonies just smiled. “What’s the matter?” they asked.
The Dodge van was packed with 15 people heading north to the Moonies’ farm at Boonville, Calif. The lecture about the farm had sounded appealing—being out in the country, by a cool creek, with people you liked. Sitting beside me was a Moonie named Joanna. She was 20, already married and divorced. “I’m so inspired now that I’m in the Family, I never want to leave,” she said. “There’s so much meaning here.”
No one had mentioned Moon or the Unification Church yet. I decided to take a chance. “How long have you been in the church?” I asked. Joanna’s eyes became distant. For a moment I thought she wasn’t going to answer. “How did you know about the church?” she asked finally. “Most people don’t know this early.”
I told her my cover story, and she seemed satisfied. “Well,” she said, smiling again in the darkness, “it’s good that you’re so open. Most people don’t understand and say bad things about us and the Principle.”
“What’s the Principle?” I asked.
“Well, it’s…” Then she stopped. A man on the other side of the van was looking at her with intense disapproval. “You’ll get that in the lectures,” she said finally. The stranger smiled and nodded. I nodded back.
“How are you feeling, Family?” shouted David, our leader, the next morning. “Great!” everyone yelled.
“Is everyone ready to have the best weekend of your life?”
Dr. Jack was our exercise leader. “Now let’s do 25 regular jumping-jacks and 10 free-style.” We began bobbing up and down in count with Dr. Jack. I started wondering whether I was 8 or 18. After exercises we were separated into new groups, each recruit accompanied by a Moonie. Eight of us sat on the grass in a tight little circle with blankets and songbooks.
“Okay,” said Dr. John, our group leader, supposedly an M.D. from New Zealand. “Let’s start off this fantastic day by giving your name and sharing a little bit about you.”
When my turn came I talked about Dirk Schwerte, but emotionally I was telling about Scott Keeler (“My mom and dad are divorced. I keep mostly to myself. A lot of people call me a sissy because I don’t play sports…”). “That was really fantastic,” said Dr. John at the end of the sharing. “It shows how open you can be up here in the fresh air.” He laughed as we all clasped hands, and we laughed too. I was beginning to feel so warm and comfortable I wondered why I had ever suspected there was anything wrong with these people. I felt intensely guilty about deceiving them.
The first lecture was a 70-minute presentation of ambiguous references to God, cosmic principles and spirituality. Oriental symbols were put on a blackboard but never explained. After the lecture broke up, we went back to our groups. “Does anyone have any questions?” asked Dr. John. I raised my hand. The other recruits still did not know these people were connected with Reverend Moon and his church. I wondered what would happen if I mentioned it. “You know in the lecture when you talked about God being everywhere?” I began. “Well, is that what the church believes?”
Dr. John dropped his smile. The other Moonies stared at me. A fellow recruit named Paul looked bewildered. “What church?” he asked. No one answered. My eyes locked with Dr. John’s for what seemed a long, uneasy time. “That’s a good question, Dirk,” he said slowly. “Who can answer that?” His eyes never left mine.
“Ah, yeah,” Bob began uncertainly. He talked and talked and didn’t tell us anything.
It was time for volleyball. “Everybody hug in close,” commanded Dr. John. “We’ve got to be positive and chant so loud every second that we’ll love-bomb ’em right out of the game!”
“Yeah, yeah! Great! Yeah!” Every Moonie in our huddle was screaming. I forced a smile and chanted along with everyone else: “Win with love! Win with love!”
“Follow the game!” shouted Dr. John. “Keep your eyes on the ball!” It got easier and easier to chant as I followed the ball with my eyes. I began to lose track of the words I was repeating over and over. I felt I could do anything. A smile spread across my face as I heard our voices echoing off the surrounding hills. Suddenly I fell, and it took me several moments to realize I was on the ground. A Moonie was standing over me. My breath had been knocked out, but I went on chanting “Win with love” in a whisper. I couldn’t stop and it scared me. “Are you okay?” he asked. I picked myself up and checked my watch. We had been playing for more than an hour and had finished two games I couldn’t even remember.
The next evening I walked to the van to return to San Francisco. I said I was sorry I had to go, and I was. “Where am I ever going to get love like this on the outside?” I thought to myself. I was almost crying, and I went up and hugged Dr. John.
“Look, Dirk,” he began slowly, “can’t you just call your mom and tell her you’ll be home in a couple of days? You can call her right now.”
“Sure, just call her now,” said Bob. “You like it up here, don’t you?”
“Well, yes, but…”
“Good,” said Dr. John, “because you can go up to Camp K with us tonight. I’ll drive you myself. Why don’t you tell your mom now?” Stepping forward, they closed in on me in a way I didn’t like, and I took a step backward.
“Hey,” I said finally. “I told you, I have to go. I’ll be back when everything’s straightened out, okay?”
A few days later I did go to Camp K, a converted Girl Scout camp in the Napa Valley where the Moonies continue their indoctrination. Before I went there, I spoke with several authorities on the Unification Church. They warned me that the Moonies were trying to isolate me from the outside world and to keep me from critically examining what they were saying. “If you’re good,” one of them warned me, “they smile and love-bomb you. But if you argue, then they descend on you.” Later one of the Moonies told me the church teaches that you don’t have any responsibility to your friends or family; your only duty is to Moon.
Unification Church members are smiling all of the time, even at four in the morning. The man who is full of love must live that way. When you go out witnessing you can caress the wall and say that it can expect you to witness well and be smiling when you return. What face could better represent love than a smiling face? This is why we talk about love bomb; Moonies have that kind of happy problem.
By the time I got to Camp K, I was beginning to understand some of the things I guess I hadn’t wanted to see before. At Boonville I had become close with a girl named Maureen. At Camp K they deliberately split us up. That’s when I realized they were playing with people’s lives. Any one-to-one sexual activity is absolutely forbidden. Couples are selected for marriage by church officials, often before they get to know each other. After I left, I seriously thought about kidnapping Maureen and having her deprogrammed. It took me about two months to reach her. I told her who I really was, and she got very defensive. She said, “I’m not leaving here. I’m better off here than on the road.” I knew I had to let her go.
In all, I spent three days at Camp K. Then I went back to Ghirardelli Square in San Francisco to continue researching my article and to photograph Moonie recruiters. While I was there I ran into Dr. Jack and another recruiter who knew me. They demanded to know who I was and what I was doing. I told them.
“Give me your film,” Dr. Jack demanded quietly, moving close.
I told him I wouldn’t.
“Give me the film,” he insisted.
“No,” I said, trying to hold my ground.
“Give it to me,” he droned. “Give me the film.”
I grabbed my camera, wrapping the strap around my arm and gripping the lens barrel. I almost gave in from fear, but then I exploded.
“No!” I yelled. “Forget it! I’m not going to give you the film!” People in the park turned and looked at me.
“Scott Keeler?” asked Dr. Jack. “Alameda?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“We’ll be in touch.”
“A California Teenager Goes Undercover to Investigate Life Among the Moonies.” : People.com. N.p., 24 July 1978. Web. 04 Mar. 2013.
“Heartbreak and Rage: Ten Years Under Sun Myung Moon: a Cult Survivor’s Memoir” Neufeld, K G. College Station, TX: Virtualbookworm.com, 2002. Print.
— Seek Yehowah (@SeekYehowah) November 23, 2014
Baptized at 12 years old coming from multiple generations on my [step] dad’s side—Melvin George Baxley—and my mom and [deceased] father came in [to the truth] together, baptized at the same time arm-in-arm, literally.
Family all still are “JW”, but I’ve been disfellowshipped twice.
I got back “in” this year to be able to speak with family but my parents pretty much shun me because my intent was to share and research the information I had learned of late about the religion.
I’ve faded, immediately after reinstatement.
I live on the west coast and the timing went well as I moved for a job right after reinstatement.
So I am a ghost now. My family is east coast.
I believe in God—even more so than before when it was a religious thing.
I am trying to learn what the bible really says.
Nothing makes you crazier than being ignored and feeling as though you don’t belong.
My family wasn’t strict about it near the end this time around, but our relationships will never be the same after more than 5 years of shunning.
To find association among like-minded people.
Somewhat more private and probably more intellectual than the posts I’ve read on the other public forums.
I’m not into bashing as a past time—Looking for a place that’s more mature [than www.jehovahs-witness.net].
I recently started a site (I’m in technology as a profession) : seekjehovah.org.
It’s a work in progress with the intent to be found by witnesses, not immediately repel them, and instead perhaps reach people with information I wish I would have had sooner in life.
On Aug 12, 2012, from “firstname.lastname@example.org”
Based on your responses and candor (below), I think you would be an excellent contributor to the Channel C forum.
I looked at your seekjehovah.org Website and it appears excellent as well. What a genuinely Christian endeavor, appropriate for Jehovah’s Witnesses.
What would you like for a user name and a password? I will register you and look forward to your participation in the discussions.Thanks for your interest in Channel C.
Channel C Admin
Angela M. Baxley <email@example.com> 8/12/12 to cc-questions
thank you. How about “oneapart”.
Rosalie the Channel C admin, and friend of Franz.
Charles Arthur goes over the past few days’ worth of examples to summarize…
Next time, I’m taking the harder courses. 😉 Momma, this was what nurse Bob wanted! #SDCPH
People just don’t get it, and that means you end up in a state of performance for a good portion of your life.
“All the world’s a stage, and we are merely players.”
I look back and recall Brian being upset because he didn’t get the same spunky Angie that others did. We shared the private intimate space of a couple, and thus he really knew me.
Why did I leave Microsoft?*
Because my manager was found guilty of sexual harassment on multiple accounts: one of which was harassing me, another was of harassing a girl who worked on our team after I had (in the end with the help of another female co-worker/manager on the team) shut him down.
— Angela Marié Glass (@Ang) October 11, 2014
How did it happen?
Gump asked me to report to “The Brit” in the “new org”. Professionally, I found The Brit brilliant. But I told Gump I wouldn’t be comfortable, and kept my mouth shut about why. I don’t know why he waited so long to push for why, but for weeks the “new org” was held up apparently by me.
Eventually Gump pushes and I explain how he made me feel uncomfortable, which was tolerable as a peer, but I couldn’t report to him since it was already a problem. I recall mentioning how my mother would look at the situation, and then feeling embarrassed for raising my mother’s perspective in defense of my own.
That’s where Gump then explains to me about European culture set against our American (puritan) cultural backdrop. I was insulted. I had traveled to Europe, and I had already run from European rapists.
Gump said he’d send The Brit to “sensitivity” and “management” training classes, to make him U.S. Corporate Office ready, and let me work from Rome with UW over the summer.
You’ll find it ironic then that the man who then reported that The Brit was harassing me was also from the U.K.
My friend walked into my office and caught something on my screen in an email from The Brit.
Microsoft found The Brit guilty, but also, on the same report, found that his harassment did not affect my performance. How is that even possible?!—I’m not Super Woman.
That was that—just keep working and ignore the guy on the other side of your office wall.
“Angela left and went to Yahoo!”
My new manager told me it was SxSW or my job.
Bam. That was my first year at SxSW.
So I got a job, a raise, and left Microsoft and Seattle—Yahoo!
And now you know the rest of the story.
Brian would have been the only person to see me slip from Angela, the “Spunky Gidget”, to one given to hypomanic states induced by psychoactive drugs, namely Clonazepam.
Unfortunately, he had a perspective of the unfairness. Like life was playing a cruel joke on him. They got the girl, and he got what was left over.
I left Microsoft, Seattle, and the great Pacific Northwest that I love for San Francisco.* More sunshine, more freedom, and a future. Unfortunately the bottle of Clonazepam and the few pills it held went with me.
In San Francisco I enjoyed my new found freedom and lit up like a firefly to the light. I joined the nightly happy hours and brought my wardrobe up to snuff, relishing in eclectic pieces which finally did some justice to the style that was suffused in my cells but not on my palette. Oh, remember the white sailor girl dress, black boots (I coupled it with various pairs, the short retro looking bootie boots, the classic riding black boots, the pointy skin tight witches boots…) and white hat?
Oh how I loved to dress!
Jeez, do you guys know how you kill me day to day as I try to fit into this boring life you lead and love? The fantastic stories my clothes could tell you, era-by-era, multiple stories I could tell per day?
I’m a creative person, and I’m happy. Can you just get used to that idea?
Then I met Fabien. On our first date we met at a Luna Park, it was loud and his English wasn’t nearly as good as his French, and that did neither of us any good. I had left friends (some guy friend who I’d been having a blast with, but just a friend… was that Bill?) and was measuring the date against the moments I had left just before. Completely unfair, but a reality given the circumstances. I mean, I had been having tons of fun, and left it for what?… a date?! But I’d made plans, and I stuck to the plans. I don’t really recall what we talked about, or if there was even really any talk… between the loud music and his charming heavy accent, that is.
We stepped outside to the corner to part ways. We went to hug goodbye.
It was an embrace.
Wow. What was that?!
In that moment he won the second date.
Alas, while we shared a romantic convertible ride to wine country, a day written in someone else’s daydream between sparkling Chandon, strawberries, dinner at Angele, and a moonlight drive with music on the way home… it was a short lived romance in the pages of our overstuffed technology dayplanners. He was a CEO, and I had no interest in being the CEO’s wife.
We parted ways to remain friends. I later took him to New York for his birthday—tons of fun and drama between the serendipitous Fuerza Bruta: Look Up show, wine, cheese, dinner and dessert, with Rachel, at Pastis, dancing until we fell asleep at Cielo, the passionate fight wound through the sidewalks of a brisk and cold walk in Central Park, back to the Waldorf Astoria, into the cab, and onto the plane home to the cool grey city of Love.
In the end I found San Francisco to be the leftovers of what once was. It’s the mecca for artists and lovers and dreamers, to be sure. But it’s overrun with abundance, confusion and people. It’s not Kerouac’s city, and it wasn’t to remain mine. There’s something of an arrogance to just being there. As if residence is validation in and of itself of having arrived, of not just being alive but living. I found it to be a surface level dream with no depth. I was lost and lonely and couldn’t have had more friends if I tried.
Every holiday was an excuse for an escape.
My first July 4th took me on a road trip to L.A. to spend the weekend with my friend who makes dreams come true by making tools for Spielberg. He proudly peacocked the city of Angels knowing good and well I both enjoyed it and found it profoundly lacking. I’ll never forget our debate via Twitter regarding women’s rights and who’d get to drive. He knew all along that I long for an era back in the day where men loved to drive women, and women loved to look out the window to day dreams of ways to make more love.
Halloween was a race to Los Angeles which was marked by my descent down the wrong escalator into the San Francisco Virgin America gates back when they were in the International Terminal… I turned to race up the escalator, was reminded of my silliness, and ended up on my knees, jeans shredded against the ridges of steel, my flesh fairing not much better. Stickel and I made it, but not on that flight, but we made it ultimately. You see I was the maid of honor in my best friend’s wedding, Tara Brown to her Sean Bonner.
Words are flowing out in endless… pools of sorrow, waves of joy, possessing and caressing me… nothing’s gonna change my world. Nothing’s gonna change my world.
At the top of the Runyon Canyon I witnessed Tara and Sean exchange vows, officiated by none other than Optimus Prime. Just a little while later, I feel a tinge of guilt when I learn she’s pregnant. I know it wasn’t in their plan, though Tara had long held dreams of being a mother. She absolved me from my guilt, and I attended a baby shower in LA that confused every bit of my sense of reality.
Tara had left, she’d found her love, her life. I’d left Microsoft, and Seattle for San Francisco, and she’d soon followed. I found Cindy in San Francisco, but now they’d both gone.
The city no longer seemed amusing, but cold and grey, dingy and dirty.
Oh, wait, but did I tell you about Memorial Day yet?
No, we save the best for last, and I’m perpetually amused at how America’s major holiday’s serve merely as markers for memories in my life.
You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.
Jeez, what do I do when I know the matrix exists? The connections, the lack of coincidence? Divine, meddlesome, controlled, variables left tied up in neat little bows on packages that don’t seem to be the right presents. You made it right this time? Only if my mustang shows up, and heavy is limited to a state of mind and not a reference to my brother. He strolls in, and I wonder where are my hemp sandals? Black toe nail polish, blue on his fingers. A look as if death has washed over him, but he may yet be clean? I’m sorry what you see as my being stubborn is nothing but the exalted standards by which I deem myself deserving. Or maybe you could say I find myself divinely so. Oh, is it ironic or merely coincidence that the sun warms my keyboard for those few strokes, only to hide again at thought’s completion?
I’m beginning to love all the hidden tracks. Reel Big Fish, Gorillaz.
It’s enough to tempt a girl.
In my play I’m happy and creative.
I want to day dream, write, sing, dance, make movies, and music. I want to fall in love and live forever in paradise.
In my play I get to write the ending.
Now, whether it’s God or Natasha Bedingfield, well, that’d be a debate I’d take up over a fine deep red wine and a beautiful bleu cheese and pears.
When I was younger, my family was good friends with the Glass family. I’ll never forget when Darryl came back from Peru with his beautiful Angela.
Her name, like mine, was Angela Marie/a—except in Peru the girls were all named Maria and then a different middle name, so technically she was Maria Angela, and referred to as Angela: I adored her.
Darryl and Angela married, and had Adrian and Jamie.
Jamie died in a very tragic family accident at three and a half years old.
“The most unnatural death is that of a child before the parent.”