“To answer your question, the call came in late the evening of the 3rd, 1-2:00 am, he stopped breathing 6-7:00 am on the fourth.”
God told the nation of Israel, “Observe my Sabbaths and have reverence for my sanctuary”.
They were warned, “But if you do not obey Me, and do not observe all these commandments, … I will set My face against you, and you shall be defeated by your enemies. Those who hate you shall reign over you, and you shall flee when no one pursues you…”
“‘And after all this, if you do not obey Me, then I will punish you seven times.” — Leviticus 26
“You were sorry and humbled yourself before God when you heard his words against this city and its people. You humbled yourself and tore your clothing in despair and wept before me in repentance. And I have indeed heard you, says Yehowah יְהוָה. So I will not send the promised disaster until after you have died and been buried in peace. You yourself will not see the disaster I am going to bring on this city and its people.’” — 2 Chronicles 34
Josiah was the father of Jehoiachin and his brothers (who were born at the time of the exile to Babylon). (Matthew 1:11) Continue reading
“Boy they loves Hova.”
Illuminati, spirit-directed, or holy?
“Y’all religion causes division”
Who created religion?
“Only God could judge us.”
“Hovah” is a play on Jay-Hova, or Jehovah, one of the Old Testament names of God.
“Signs and symbols control the world, not phases and laws.”
Confucius (551-479 BC)
Some say Jay-Z got the nickname back in 1993, when he borrowed some studio time and was recording some of his first tracks. The other people in the studio marveled to discover that Jay-Z was improvising all his lyrics, and decided that his ability was nothing short of miraculous. So they dubbed him J-Hova.
Others claim “Hova” stands for “Hustler of Virginia” where Jay-Z “hustled” as a play on “Jehovah”.
The obscure reference may be the link of hovah (a Hebrew word meaning destruction) and the oracle of Revelation, “”.
“The psychological mechanism that transforms energy is the symbol.”
Carl Jung (1875 – 1961)
Come Out of Her My People
The “De-Churching” of America
The number of Americans claiming no religious affiliation has quadrupled since 1990. Yet what religion had the lowest retention rate of any? Perhaps shockingly the Atheist “retention rate” was the lowest among the 20 separate categories in the study.
Still, in 2005 only 17 percent of Americans attended a religious service Sunday morning.
According to a study by Georgetown University’s Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate (CARA), “those who grow up in an atheist household are least likely to maintain their beliefs about religion as adults.”
Jehovah’s Witnesses have the next lowest retention rate at 37 percent. Continue reading
As previous studies demonstrated that individuals with high subjective happiness level rated their current affective states more positively when they experience positive events, these two aspects of happiness are interrelated.
According to a recent neuroimaging study, the cytosine to thymine single-nucleotide polymorphism of the human cannabinoid receptor 1 gene is associated with sensitivity to positive emotional stimuli.
Thus, we hypothesized that our genetic traits, such as the human cannabinoid receptor 1 genotypes, are closely related to the two aspects of happiness.
In Experiment 1, 198 healthy volunteers were used to compare the subjective happiness level between cytosine allele carriers and thymine-thymine carriers of the human cannabinoid receptor 1 gene.
In Experiment 2, we used positron emission tomography with 20 healthy participants to compare the brain responses to positive emotional stimuli of cytosine allele carriers to that of thymine-thymine carriers.
Compared to thymine-thymine carriers, cytosine allele carriers have a higher subjective happiness level. Regression analysis indicated that the cytosine allele is significantly associated with subjective happiness level.
The positive mood after watching a positive film was significantly higher for the cytosine allele carriers compared to the thymine-thymine carriers.
Positive emotion-related brain region such as the medial prefrontal cortex was significantly activated when the cytosine allele carriers watched the positive film compared to the thymine-thymine carriers.
Thus, the human cannabinoid receptor 1 genotypes are closely related to two aspects of happiness. Compared to thymine-thymine carriers, the cytosine allele carriers of the human cannabinoid receptor 1 gene, who are sensitive to positive emotional stimuli, exhibited greater magnitude positive emotions when they experienced positive events and had a higher subjective happiness level.
This post is prompted tonight by my personal experience with…
“not bringing reproach upon Jehovah’s organization”.
Most Jehovah’s Witnesses
have no idea there are 24,000+ pedophiles who have hidden among the silent lambs
in their congregations…
San Diego ABC 10 News reported obtaining video of admitted child molester Jehovah’s Witness Gonzalo Campos.
“I did abuse him,” said Campos in the video. “I touched his private parts.
Testimony of Gonzalo Campos
Accused JW pedophile confession on camera released by San Diego ABC 10 News.
Team 10 asked if Zalkin believed it’s widely known that there are sexual abuse problems inside Jehovah’s Witnesses.
“No, no and it needs to be brought to the public’s attention,” Zalkin said. “They have been operating in secrecy and at will for decades.”
“Your granddaddy don’t dance, and your grandma don’t rock n’ roll like mine…”
What would it take me to speak up, to hoot and holler and say “hey, y’all I have a story to tell”?
They killed my clown. Oh, it’s just this fantasy in my head. They didn’t really kill my clown, there’s not even really a ‘they’. My grandpa died is all. He was a clown, and he died, and that damn near killed me.
And the curious thing is, I have no idea if he believed himself. I mean, I know grandma does?—?she’s that whole evangelical pentecostal holy spirit healing and hoopla kind of religiousity, something that I saw plenty more of being raised in the South.
… but that’s not the point either, the point is simply, you died.
Grandpa died. Grandma Hilton is all I have left.
It’s time to start telling stories.
— I’m testing my voice. I’m testing with a tease. Please offer critique, I get by with a little help of my friends. My friends have always been on the internet.
But why dwell on the commonplace rubbish which the starving were driven to feed upon, given that what I have to recount is an act unparalleled in the history of either the Greeks or the barbarians, and as horrible to relate as it is incredible to hear? For my part I should gladly have omitted this tragedy, lest I should be suspected of monstrous fabrication. But there were many witnesses of it among my contemporaries; and besides, I should do poor service to my country if I were to suppress the agonies she went through.
Jerusalem fell, after a siege, to a Roman army under Titus. Josephus was a Jew who had gone over to the Romans as a historian…
Take a good look, friends, at who you were when you got called into this life.
I don’t see many of “the brightest and the best” among you, not many influential, not many from high-society families.
Isn’t it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses, chose these “nobodies” to expose the hollow pretensions of the “somebodies”?
That makes it quite clear that none of you can get by with blowing your own horn before God.
Everything that we have—right thinking and right living, a clean slate and a fresh start—comes from God by way of Jesus Christ.
That’s why we have the saying, “If you’re going to blow a horn, blow a trumpet for God.”
Nursing infants gurgle choruses about you;
toddlers shout the songs
That drown out enemy talk,
and silence atheist babble.
Through the praise of children and infants you have established a stronghold against your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger.
He makes the magicians look ridiculous
and turns fortunetellers into jokes.
He makes the experts look trivial
and their latest knowledge look silly
who foils the signs of false prophets and makes fools of diviners, who overthrows the learning of the wise and turns it into nonsense,
“‘How can you say,
“We know the score. We’re the proud owners of God’s revelation”?
Look where it’s gotten you—stuck in illusion.
Your religion experts have taken you for a ride!
Your know-it-alls will be unmasked,
caught and shown up for what they are.
Look at them!
They know everything but God’s Word.
Do you call that “knowing”?
The wise will be put to shame; they will be dismayed and trapped. Since they have rejected the word of the LORDE, what kind of wisdom do they have?
I’ll turn conventional wisdom on its head,
I’ll expose so-called experts as crackpots.
So where can you find someone truly wise,
truly educated, truly intelligent
in this day and age?
Hasn’t God exposed it all
as pretentious nonsense?
Where is the wise person? Where is the teacher of the law? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?
Since the world in all its fancy wisdom never had a clue when it came to knowing God,
God in his wisdom took delight in using what the world considered dumb
—preaching, of all things!—to bring those who trust him into the way of salvation.
For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe.
We, of course, have plenty of wisdom to pass on to you once you get your feet on firm spiritual ground, but it’s not popular wisdom, the fashionable wisdom of high-priced experts that will be out-of-date in a year or so. God’s wisdom is something mysterious that goes deep into the interior of his purposes. You don’t find it lying around on the surface. It’s not the latest message, but more like the oldest—what God determined as the way to bring out his best in us, long before we ever arrived on the scene. The experts of our day haven’t a clue about what this eternal plan is. If they had, they wouldn’t have killed the Master of the God-designed life on a cross. That’s why we have this Scripture text: No one’s ever seen or heard anything like this, Never so much as imagined anything quite like it— What God has arranged for those who love him. But you’ve seen and heard it because God by his Spirit has brought it all out into the open before you. The Spirit, not content to flit around on the surface, dives into the depths of God, and brings out what God planned all along. Who ever knows what you’re thinking and planning except you yourself? The same with God—except that he not only knows what he’s thinking, but he lets us in on it. God offers a full report on the gifts of life and salvation that he is giving us. We don’t have to rely on the world’s guesses and opinions. We didn’t learn this by reading books or going to school; we learned it from God, who taught us person-to-person through Jesus, and we’re passing it on to you in the same firsthand, personal way.
What we have received is not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, so that we may understand what God has freely given us.
Listen, dear friends.
Isn’t it clear by now that God operates quite differently?
He chose the world’s down-and-out as the kingdom’s first citizens, with full rights and privileges.
This kingdom is promised to anyone who loves God.
And here you are abusing these same citizens!
Isn’t it the high and mighty who exploit you, who use the courts to rob you blind?
Aren’t they the ones who scorn the new name—“Christian”—used in your baptisms?
Listen, my dear brothers and sisters: Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom he promised those who love him?
The mark of the beast is coming.
The beginning of religion was the first lie.
Letter to a Friend
I graduated to a larger keyboard in procrastination.
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?!
This looks familiar, vaguely familiar,
Almost unreal, yet, it’s too soon to feel yet.
Close to my soul, and yet so far away.
I’m going to go back there someday.
Sun rises, night falls, sometimes the sky calls.
Is that a song there, and do I belong there?
I’ve never been there, but I know the way.
I’m going to go back there someday.
Come and go with me, it’s more fun to share,
We’ll both be completely at home in midair.
We’re flyin’, not walkin’, on featherless wings.
We can hold onto love like invisible strings.
There’s not a word yet for old friends who’ve just met.
Part heaven, part space, or have I found my place?
You can just visit, but I plan to stay.
I’m going to go back there someday.
I’m going to go back there someday.
Eve the First Woman (4026 – 3074 BC) is your 133rd great grandmother (through Cain and Magog)
David “King of Judah” Ben Jesse (1085 – 1015) is your 102nd great grandfather.
- David “King of Judah” Ben Jesse (1085 – 1015)
- King Solomon Ben “Judah” David (1033 – 975)
- Rehoboam “King of Judah” Ben Solomon (971 – 913)
- Abijah Abijam “King of Judah” Ben Rehoboam (957 – 955)
- Asa “King of Judah” Ben Abijah ha-David (924 – 870)
- Jehosaphat “King of Judah” ben Asa ha-David (908 – 848)
- Jehoram Ben Jehosaphat ha-David (889 – 885)
- Ahaziah ben Jehoram ha-David King of Judah (906 – 884)
- Joash ben Ahaziah ha-David King of Judah (885 – 839)
- Amaziah ben Joash ha-David King of Judah (864 – 810)
- Uzziah Azariah ben Amaziah King of Judah ha-David (826 – 758)
- Jotham ben Uzziah ha-David King of Judah
- Ahaz ben Jotham King of Judah ha-David (787 – 726)
- Hezekiah ben Ahaz King of Judah ha-David (751 – 698)
- Manasseh ben Hezekiah King of Judah ha-David
- Amon ben Manasseh King of Judah ha-David (664 – 642)
- Josiah ben Amon King of Judah ha-David (648 – 610)
- Zedekiah Mattaniah ben Josiah Judah King of Judah (618 – 586)
- Tea Tephi bint Zedekiah Judah (580 – )
- Giallchadh mac Oilioll Olchaoin King of Ireland (561 – 552)
- Nuadhat I Fionnfoil mac Giallchadh (540 – 527)
- Áedan Aodham Glas King of Ireland
- Siomon Breac mac Aodhan Glas (483 – 477)
- Muireadhach I Bolgrach mac Siomon (469 – 468)
- Fiacha Tolgrach Heremon
- Duach II Ladhgrach mac Fiachadh Tolgrach (381 – 371)
- Eochaidh Buadhach
- Úgaine Mór King of Ireland (330 – 300)
- Cobthach Cóel Breg King of Ireland
- Meilge Molbthach King of Ireland
- Irereo Fáthach King of Ireland
- Connla Cáem Cruaidchelgach King of Ireland
- Ailill Caisfiaclach King of Ireland
- Eochaid Ailtlethan Foltlethan King of Ireland
- Óengus Tuirmech Temrach King of Ireland
- Énna Aignech
- Labehra Labhra Suire Lorc
- Blathucha Blathacht
- Easamasn Easmhna Easamhun Ruadh
- Roighnen Ruadh (Rorzhmen)
- Feneogha Finnlogha
- Finn (Fian)
- Eochu Eochaid Feidlech High King of Ireland
- Lugaid Riab nDerg High King of Ireland
- Crimthann Nia Náir High King of Ireland
- Feradach Finnfechtnach High King of Ireland
- Fíachu Finnolach High King of Ireland
- Túathal Techtmar High King of Ireland
- Fedlimid Rechtmar High King of Ireland
- Conn Cétchathach “of the Hundred Battles” High King of Ireland
- Art Óenfer mac Cuinn High King of Ireland
- Cormac mac Airt ua Cuinn King of Ireland
- Cairbre Lifechair King of Ireland
- Fiacha Sraibhtine King of Ireland
- Muiredach Tirech King of Ireland
- Eochaid Mugmedón King of Ireland ( – 362)
- Niall Noígíallach “Niall of the Nine Hostages” King of Ireland (368 – 450)
- Eoghan Foghan Owen mac Néill King of Ireland, King of Tír Eoghain, and Prince of Inis Eoghain ( – 465)
- Eirc (or Muredach) King of Dalriada in Ireland (363 – )
- Fergus Mór King of Dalradia in Argyleshire (389 – )
- Domangart Réti mac Ferguso King of Dalriada in Argyleshire (415 – 505)
- Gabrán mac Domangairt “the Treacherous”, King of Dalriada (446 – 560)
- Áedán mac Gabráin King of Dalriada (477 – 606)
- Eochaid (or Eochu, or Eochaidh) I Buidhe King of Dalriada and the Picts (448 – )
- Domnall Brecc (Dongart) King of Scotland and Dalriada (600 – 673)
- Dongart (Eugene VI) Macdomnail Domongart Scotland (630 – 692)
- Eochaid II (Findon) of Scotland King of Dalriada (660 – 692)
- Eochaid III King of Scotland and Dalriada (695 – 721)
- Aodh Hugh (Aed Find) Fionn “the White”, King of Scotland and Dalriada (725 – 778)
- Eochaid Achaius IV King Of The Scots “The Poisonous” (747 – 819)
- Alpin mac Echdach Kintyre King of Dal Riata (778 – 834)
- Kenneth Kinet I Mac Alpin King Of The Scots (810 – 858)
- Constantine I King Of The Scots (836 – 877)
- Donald II Dasachtach King Of The Scots (862 – 900)
- Malcolm I King Of The Scots ( – 954)
- Kenneth II King Of The Scots ( – 995)
- Malcolm II Mac Kenneth King Of The Scots (970 – 1034)
- Doda De Falaise (980 – 1003)
- Harlette Herleva De Falaisse (1003 – 1050)
- Adelaide Adeliza of Normandy (1030 – 1090)
- Stephen Blois Champagne Holderness d’Aumale (1070 – 1127)
- Ada d’Aumale (1115 – 1183)
- Walter IV Tyrrell Sir Knight (1139 – 1171)
- Walter Thomas Tyrrell (1384 – 1406)
- Walter Tyrrell (1350 – )
- John Tyrrell Sir (1382 – 1437)
- William Tyrrell Esq. of Gipping in Suffolk, Sir, Sheriff of Norfolk & Suffolk (1418 – 1471)
- Dorothy Tyrrell (1459 – 1491)
- Margaret Boteler (1490 – 1520)
- Elizabeth Harmon Payne (1510 – 1585)
- Dorothy Margerie Leonard (1527 – 1611)
- Robert Calvert (1557 – 1645)
- Anne Marie Calvert (1603 – 1646)
- Thomas Beall (1631 – 1707)
- Elizabeth Beall (1660 – 1764)
- Elizabeth Dryden (1720 – 1770)
- Elijah Moore (1753 – 1835)
- Christiana Moore (1786 – 1866)
- Anna Carter (1805 – 1838)
- Robert Niblick (1824 – )
- George Willick Niblick (1860 – 1949)
- Rufus Clarence Niblick (1899 – 1962)
- Roger Dale Niblick (1928 – 2011)
- Matthew Raymond Niblick (1958 – 1983)
- Angela Marié Niblick Baxley Glass
- Isaac ben Abram (2060 – 1880) – Son of Sarai Sarah “Princess”
- Jacob Israel ben Isaac a.k.a. Kronos (1980 – 1833) – Son of Isaac ben
- Judah Judea Tamur King of Goshen Israelite Tribe of Judah, a.k.a. Zeus “Zhe-ut” Yehud (1752 – ) – Son of Jacob Israel ben
- Zerah ben Judah (1738 – 1638) – Son of Judah Judea Tamur
- Darda Dardanus Dara, “The Egyptian” King of Arcadia Founder of Troy, 1520 B.C. (1320 – 1414) – Son of Zerah ben
- Erichthonius King of Dardania (1374 – 1368) – Son of Darda Dardanus Dara, “The Egyptian”
- Tros of Acadia King of Dardania (1344 – 1328) – Son of Erichthonius
- Ilus Ilos King of Troy (1315 – 1279) – Son of Tros of Acadia
- Laomedan Laomedon King of Troy (1285 – 1235) – Son of Ilus Ilos
- Priam Podarces I King of Troy High King of Troy (1250 – 1183) – Son of Laomedan Laomedon
- Helenus I of Troy King of Epirus King of the Scythians (1225 – 1149) – Son of Priam Podarces I
- Zenter Cestrinus King of Troy Genger of the Scythians (1195 – 1149) – Son of Helenus I of Troy King of Epirus King of the
- Francus King of Troy Franco of the Scythians (1165 – ) – Son of Zenter Cestrinus
- Esdron King of Troy (1135 – ) – Son of FRANCUS
- Gelio Zelius Gelso Zelis King of Troy (1105 – ) – Son of ESDRON
- Bosabiliano Basebelian Basavelian I King of Troy (1075 – ) – Son of Gelio Zelius Gelso Zelis
- Plaserio Plaserius I King of Troy (1045 – ) – Son of Bosabiliano Basebelian Basavelian I
- Plesron I King of Troy (1015 – ) – Son of Plaserio Plaserius I
- Eliacor King of Troy (1085 – ) – Son of PLESRON I
- Zaberian King of Troy (1055 – ) – Son of ELIACOR
- Plaserius II King of Troy (1025 – ) – Son of ZABERIAN
- Antenor I King of Troy (995 – ) – Son of PLASERIUS II
- Priam King of Troy II (965 – ) – Son of ANTENOR I
- Helenus II King of Troy (935 – ) – Son of Priam King of
- Plesron II King of Troy (905 – ) – Son of Helenus II King of
- Basabelian II King of Troy (875 – ) – Son of PLESRON II
- Alexander Alexandre King of Troy (845 – 677) – Son of BASABELIAN II
- Priam King of the Cimmerians III (815 – ) – Son of Alexander Alexandre
- Gentilanor King of the Cimmerians (785 – ) – Son of Priam King of the
- Almadius King of the Cimmerians (755 – ) – Son of GENTILANOR
- Dilulius King of the Cimmerians (725 – ) – Son of ALMADIUS
- Helenus III King of the Cimmerians (695 – ) – Son of DILULIUS
- Plaserius III Plaserio King of the Cimmerians (665 – ) – Son of Helenus III King of the
- Dilulius Diluglio II King of Trojan of the Cimmerians (635 – 560) – Son of Plaserius III Plaserio
- Marcomir I King of the Cimmerians (615 – 562) – Son of Dilulius Diluglio II
- Priam IV King of the Cimmerians (585 – 540) – Son of Marcomir I
- Helenus IV King of the Cimmerians (555 – 442) – Son of Priam IV
- Antenor I Exium King of the Cimmerians (525 – 443) – Son of Helenus IV King of the
- Marcomer I King of the Cimmerians (440 – 412) – Son of Antenor I Exium
- Antenor II King of the Cimmerian (465 – 385) – Son of Marcomer I
- Priamus King of the Sicambri (417 – 358) – Son of Antenor II
- Helenus V of the Trojan Cimmerians Sicambri ( – 339) – Son of Priamus
- Diocles Lord of the Sicambri ( – 300) – Son of Helenus V of the Trojan Cimmerians
- Bassanus “the Great” King of the Sicambri ( – 250) – Son of Diocles
- Clodomir I Lord of the Sicambri ( – 232) – Son of Bassanus “the Great”
- Nicanor Lord of the Sicambri ( – 198) – Son of Clodomir I
- Marcomer II Lord of the Sicambri ( – 170) – Son of Nicanor
- Clodius I Lord of the Sicambri ( – 159) – Son of Marcomer II
- Antenor III Lord of the Sicambri ( – 143) – Son of Clodius I
- Clodomir II Lord of the Sicambri ( – 123) – Son of Antenor III
- Merovachus Lord of the Sicambri ( – 95) – Son of Clodomir II
- Cassander Lord of the Sicambri ( – 74) – Son of Merovachus
- Antharius Lord of the Sicambri ( – 39) – Son of Cassander
- Francus (or Francio) Lord of the Sicambri – Son of Antharius
- Clodius Clogio II King of the Franks – Son of Francus (or Francio)
- Marcomer III King of the Franks ( – 50) – Son of Clodius Clogio II
- Clodomir III King of the Franks ( – 63) – Son of Marcomer III
- Antenor III King of the Franks ( – 69) – Son of Clodomir III
- Ratherius King of the Franks ( – 90) – Son of Antenor III
- Richemir I King of the Franks (40 – 114) – Son of Ratherius
- Odomir King of the Franks (70 – 128) – Son of Richemir I
- King Marcomir of the Franks (90 – 149) – Son of Odomir
- King Clodomir IV of the Franks (104 – 180) – Son of King Marcomir
- King Farabert of the Franks ( – 186) – Son of King Clodomir IV of the
- King Sunno of the Franks ( – 213) – Son of King Farabert
- King Hilderic ( – 253) – Son of King Sunno
- King Bartherus ( – 272) – Son of King Hilderic
- King Clodius III ( – 298) – Son of King Bartherus
- King Walter (306 – ) – Son of King Clodius III
- King Dagobert ( – 317) – Son of King Walter
- King Clodomir V ( – 337) – Son of King Dagobert
- King Richemir II (270 – 350) – Son of King Clodomir V
- King Theodomir (295 – 360) – Son of King Richemir II
- King Clodius IV (310 – 378) – Son of King Theodomir
- King Dagobert (325 – 389) – Son of King Clodius IV
- King Genebald (350 – 419) – Son of King Dagobert
- Argotta Rosamunde Princess of Scambri Queen of Salic Franks (376 – ) – Daughter of King Genebald
- Clodion V Le Chevelu France – Son of Argotta Rosamunde Princess of
- Merovaeus Merovech I Merovingian King of the Salian Franks (415 – 457) – Son of Clodion V Le Chevelu
- Childeric I Franks King of Franks, Founder of Merovingian Dynasty (440 – 481) – Son of Merovaeus Merovech I
- Clovis I France King of the Franks (465 – 511) – Son of Childeric I
- Clotaire Choltar Charles I “The Old” Merovingian King of the Franks (499 – 561) – Son of Clovis I
- Blithildis Berthe Aldeberge Meroving Princess of Merovian Franks (541 – 580) – Daughter of Clotaire Choltar Charles I “The Old”
- Arnoaldus XXVII Descheldt Bodegeisel Metz Bishop (560 – 611) – Son of Blithildis Berthe Aldeberge
- Lady Dode Of Saxony Clothilde de Heristal (586 – 615) – Daughter of Arnoaldus XXVII Descheldt Bodegeisel
- Ansiglsel de Metz Margrave of Scheldt (602 – 679) – Son of Lady Dode Of Saxony Clothilde de
- Pepin II “The Fat” DeHeristal Mayor of the Palaces of Austrasia (635 – 714) – Son of Ansiglsel de
- Charles “The Hammer” Martel King of the Franks (676 – 741) – Son of Pepin II “The Fat”
- Pepin III “the Short” “the Younger” King of the Franks Mayor of the Palace, Duke of the Franks (714 – 768) – Son of Charles “The Hammer”
- Emperor Charlemagne Carolingian Holy Roman Empire King of the Franks (742 – 814) – Son of Pepin III “the Short” “the Younger”
- Louis I “The Pious” Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire King of the Franks (778 – 840) – Son of Emperor Charlemagne Carolingian
- Charles II “The Bald” Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire King of the Franks (823 – 877) – Son of Louis I “The Pious” Emperor of the
- King Louis II “The Stammerer” France King of Aquitaine and King of West Francia (846 – 879) – Son of Charles II “The Bald” Emperor of the
- King Charles “The Simple” of France III, Carolingian (879 – 929) – Son of King Louis II “The Stammerer”
- King Louis “d’Outremer” of France IV (920 – 954) – Son of King Charles “The Simple” of
- Matilda DeFrance Queen of Burgundy (943 – 992) – Daughter of King Louis “d’Outremer” of
- Bertha de Burgundy (967 – 1015) – Daughter of Matilda
- Odo II Count De Blois (990 – 1037) – Son of Bertha
- Stephen II Etienne de Troyes (1010 – 1047) – Son of Odo II Count
- Eudes II Odo IV Count of Troyes and Meaux (1040 – 1115) – Son of Stephen II Etienne
- Stephen Blois Champagne Holderness d’Aumale (1070 – 1127) – Son of Eudes II Odo IV Count of Troyes and
- Ada d’Aumale (1115 – 1183) – Daughter of Stephen Blois Champagne Holderness
- Walter IV Tyrrell Sir Knight (1139 – 1171) – Son of Ada
- Walter Thomas Tyrrell (1384 – 1406) – Son of Walter IV
- Walter Tyrrell (1350 – ) – Son of Walter Thomas
- John Tyrrell Sir (1382 – 1437) – Son of Walter
- William Tyrrell Esq. of Gipping in Suffolk, Sir, Sheriff of Norfolk & Suffolk (1418 – 1471) – Son of John
- Dorothy Tyrrell (1459 – 1491) – Daughter of William
- Margaret Boteler (1490 – 1520) – Daughter of Dorothy
- Elizabeth Harmon Payne (1510 – 1585) – Daughter of Margaret
- Dorothy Margerie Leonard (1527 – 1611) – Daughter of Elizabeth Harmon
- Robert Calvert (1557 – 1645) – Son of Dorothy Margerie
- Anne Marie Calvert (1603 – 1646) – Daughter of Robert
- Thomas Beall (1631 – 1707) – Son of Anne Marie
- Elizabeth Beall (1660 – 1764) – Daughter of Thomas
- Elizabeth Dryden (1720 – 1770) – Daughter of Elizabeth
- Elijah Moore (1753 – 1835) – Son of Elizabeth
- Christiana Moore (1786 – 1866) – Daughter of Elijah
- Anna Carter (1805 – 1838) – Daughter of Christiana
- Robert Niblick (1824 – ) – Son of Anna
- George Willick Niblick (1860 – 1949) – Son of Robert
- Rufus Clarence Niblick (1899 – 1962) – Son of George Willick
- Roger Dale Niblick (1928 – 2011) – Son of Rufus Clarence
- Matthew Raymond Niblick (1958 – 1983) – Son of Roger Dale
- Angela Marie Niblick Baxley – You are the daughter of Matthew Raymund Morris Michael Niblick.
Ancestry from Charlemagne to Abraham
Some have 61 generations. The Gospel of Matthew states there are 42 generations between Jesus of Nazareth and Abraham, and Marcomir III (10BC-50AD), thirty generations from Charlemagne, would have roughly been Jesus’ contemporary. Thus there would theoretically be about 72 generations between Charlemagne and Abraham. The Springer genealogy inserts 24 Cimmerian kings in between the Sicambri kings and the Trojans for a count of about 85 generations.
The dates don’t line up between Zerah and the Trojans, but in the bible the Hebrew word for “became the father of” does not necessarily mean only that, but often means “became an ancestor of”…the equivalent of our English word “descendant”. It’s quite possible that the Mergovian royalty discovered that the Trojans ultimately came from the line of Judah, despite missing information about all the intermediate generations.
I am proud of my mother.
She challenged the authority when they told her that my uncle had six months to live.
In her heart, she knew better. In six weeks he was dead.
My mother didn’t fight the authority, there was no point. Either way, he’d be dead. Yet, my mother took her belief seriously. She rearranged her priorities, so that she could be with him not wanting to miss spending time with him while he still breathed.
My mother shared her belief with those of the family who would listen, and some believed what she, in faith, said. Because my mom is something of a natural nut, some chose to believe the word of the medical authority over what she so strongly believed.
My mother called us together, asking the family to gather, to spend time with him. The doctors had decreed his six months in July, my mom come and see him Memorial Day. I questioned my mother, asked her, is it Labor Day you mean? More than her words, I knew what she meant, what her belief would mean.
Those of who believed, who took the health nut my momma seriously, took heed. The family all gathered, and the other side of the family hosted, the ones who take my mom seriously. Amid music and singing, children playing and sunflowers, my aunt and uncle (of that side of the family) offered Uncle Randy relief in the form of a weed. Though it’s not an appropriate natural remedy in my mother’s belief, it was thanks to God’s creation that he was able to join in the merriment, raising a guitar to his knee. Before that day, I never he knew that he could really play.
Later I confessed to my mother that she must know that the pleasure thanks to the leaves of a weed. I urged her to urge his caregiver to implore his doctor to prescribe him the prescription, mans form of God’s gift by the hand of their own authority. My aunt, the caregiver, and my mother agreed, though the need was plain to see, relief shouldn’t be obtained in the form of what they’d call “weed“, they apparently don’t approve whether relief is by a pill form prescription or by what he’d breath, or eat. I’d never make it home fast enough to see about sending him cookies.
That was the last day I’d really see him, that day watching the last of his life—more so than any other day I’d ever seen—as he laughed and he played and he drank and even sang. That night, still relieved, apparently was the last and only he’d really sleep. Later I here he spent hours dead to the world, but even a caregiver, I imagine if I am bold, will note the difference between succumbing to death and breathing easy in sleep.
All this is to say, that I’m proud of my mother and that though they’d say that he’d have six months in this life to remain. My mother, though others would think her insane, ignored the authority and in her campaign we thus would win the last few days we’d never get back again. Those who’d doubt totally missed out, but my mother made sure we had all the time with him that we could spend.
I think of my mother happy that she’d challenge authority. What they said she simply couldn’t believe. They say that ‘faith is the assured expectation of things not yet beheld’, and it takes faith to believe.
Had my mother held to her faith, and urged us to believe, I wouldn’t have seen my uncle and get to say goodbye, in not so many words, before he’d leave.
My dear parents, my sisters and my brother, I’m glad we all listened to our mother, listened to her, trusted, had faith and believed—even though we weren’t raised to question authority.
I believe that we’ll all obtain life, given the lives we live, when we die. The difference is simply the reward you’ll obtain, by what words we heed while in this life we remain. I think of Nikki, who momma’s words didn’t heed, she heard but didn’t listen, and by doubt missed out because it was the doctor’s she chose to believe. She said she’d see him later, and though in this life she was wrong, I imagine that one day the band will get back together, and we all will be there to sing along.
I hope that you’ll respect me, as I take my leave from believing what I was taught is the authority. I asked them questions they couldn’t answer, so I’ll believe what I read. The Word became flesh so that we could believe, and God left us a written record for us to read. He planted faith among us, a tiny little seed. Buried like our uncle and father, all it takes now to raise from up under is to read and believe! I will not try to uproot you from the soil you know, recalling God’s creation: seed, sun and water—we reap what we sow; a man planted, a man watered, but it was God that kept making it grow.
Then God said,
“I’ve given you every sort of seed-bearing plant on Earth And every kind of fruit-bearing tree, given them to you for food. To all animals and all birds, everything that moves and breathes, I give whatever grows out of the ground for food.”
And there it was.
God looked over everything he had made; it was so good, so very good!
It was evening, it was morning—Day Six. — Genesis 1
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.
I attempt to offer the answer, it lies therein, in the next verse—
“the nations which are in the four corners of the earth, Gog and Magog” the ones who Satan’d deceive, let alone the man on earth who would yet thus believe and come to reside, as the scriptures say, in the holy city.
My parents tell me there will be only 144,000 in heaven, you see.
And thus on the earth the great crowd should be.
I wonder and am confused, what mystery she believes? (Revelation 17:5)
The 144,000 are in heaven, yes, we agree.
The great crowd, regardless—where is it?!—where will Gog and Magog be?
My parents won’t answer, and a answer will not be.
They offer confusing theories, the efforts or effects of their personal theology.
“The dead are not dead”, he says, “don’t you see?”
Or is it that he says that they are dead, but only spiritually?
And ‘the Son of Man which every man will see’, well not, every man will “see” he’d have me believe?
The man who says he was the Son of God would ask me to believe, and he asked in the first century, “what if you would see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before?” apparently now the truth that we should seek is “what if you would see the Son of Man descending to where he was before he was where it is that he still is or would still be?”
Oh, I sigh, I ask and cry, “You men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into the sky?”
My parents would say that though they dropped their jaws, and gave good pause so the Lord would sent his angels to mark the day, that it not matter, despite the manner, they not believe “This man, who was received up into the sky will come back in the same way as he was seen going into the sky.”
No, we’d not see, it’d be seen, no not all all.
It is not green eggs, no, it is not green eggs and ham, at all.
It was not for us but for the few he’d call, those men that they’d say of that long since past long ago day, some day once before no, never, not seen, it was one day when some one said he say him, somewhere near 1919. He came invisibly, known only once he came though their inner chamber doors; yet we shouldn’t worry, as though it were a desert, no not in desert no wilderness, nor should we go seek him, no it was in Brooklyn that as a thief he broke in.
My heart is like a child’s, like a king’s it’s been broken.
I have no throne, my crown is sore and of my ego there’s not much left to be worn,
But a princess I’d be—in the kingdom of heaven—my heart still plays make believe.
I give it all, I swear I would. I understand, I’d dare I could, Paul he’d be a man after that which is me—My Dad, my mother, my sisters and my brother, my family—please take them, take them before me?! My life, my life, I’ll give it, pray, I pray, please, oh please, not them but me! My body you’ve beaten, battered and abused, my mouth you smote and my faith you moved. My fear was shattered and my soul I cared not, who knows what I know, and who needs what I’ve got?
My father, my Father, before both I bend my knee. I beseech you I pray in my scattered soul, that thing which I not know if man need, my heart has been thrashed, and my heart thus does beat. Take my shame, give me blame, or lift from below?—I can’t breath. My eyes lay but for a moment on your son, and my heart stirred, ashamed I chastised myself, for your son I am beneath.
Why make me wonder I already know. You know my mother told you so. I look good in red, that’s what she said. And you know I’ve always wished to be worthy of wearing white. Your woman of revelation, adorned in skies diamonds, my mother think I’d be better off in colored jewels. You both tease thus, it seems I must, admit the scriptures are my muse?
But in seriousness, somberness, in undertone day and night. You know it is, from child’s breath, to adult fright, I’ve read you in delight. I had faith though life not make me believe. My spirit broke, then I found myself on bended knees. I lay my head to the ground, where once long ago I was found. It against that flesh that I find myself, the dust of which I am, the dust which I deserve.
Why make me dream, drowning me in stars? Why test my heart, and send my mind so far? I have no family in heaven, my father beneath my feet sleeps. My mother’d not believe me if I told her it’s me you’d seek. She thinks its the devil, and thus shame has won, how it is that I’d tell her, it is the best that I’ve done?
What shall you do to make them believe? What is it that shall come to make the world see? I care not for my life, but he that gave his for me. How is it that you lived without him? A perfect man, your child, your seed? My father knows not of the pain of which we call my life, he never came to know that a man called me his wife. As I stood before that man, for your mother and father you must leave, that man told me that I must forget—for him you must not grieve. How jarring it is this moment to try to say where all the other words thus in poetry lay—he said it he said it he said it callously, he said ‘get over it’, and that he said it I still can’t believe.
I’m done. I’m done. I’ve said all I can say. You’ve empty my heart, and I’ll hit send and pray.
I think of my father, and then you sent Muppets and clowns my way. I adore my childhood, and my life I wouldn’t trade.
I imagine another live would be one less boring than mine. I still can’t said I would trade it to live next to the divine. The roses smell sweet when not genetically altered, and you know it is not less than often that before earth’s herbs I’ve faltered. Rosemary I rub in my palms to breath its fragrance given next to the busy street, basil I adore and roses maybe more, though my scent I still seek. Do you have smells where you dwell, or could I have herbal retreats? Is it true, I heard once you drew a vision a man knew not to seek… upon a stone he struck his head and in slumber he did sleep. Though his eyes were closed his spirit rose, in wonder it did peak. He saw the stairs, or a ladder who cares, it was heaven it did seek. Angels came and went and the night was spent and of it the scriptures do speak. I laugh and wonder, could it be a man should go asunder so he might find on the other side an elevator ride, one like no other? (Genesis 28:10-19) I know, I know, in case she should read, yes the man who first before him must proceed. That death he gave and wine we drink, in life will live and death in we will breath.
Ecclesiastes “The Teacher”
In anguish, Solomon says in his heart,
“Who knows the spirit of man,
whether it goes upward,
and the spirit of the animal,
whether it goes downward to the earth?”
Why? Why had it entered Solomon’s heart that might might “go upward” as opposed to the “downward to the earth” that he knew of the death of animals?
A Prayer by Moses, the man of God.
Why is the prayer of Moses in the psalm referring to “flying away“?
Lord, you have been our dwelling place for all generations.
Before the mountains were born,
before you had formed the earth and the world,
even from everlasting to everlasting, you are God.
You turn man to destruction, saying,
“Return, you children of men.”
For a thousand years in your sight
are just like yesterday when it is past,
like a watch in the night.
You sweep them away as they sleep.
In the morning they sprout like new grass.
In the morning it sprouts and springs up.
By evening, it is withered and dry.
For we are consumed in your anger.
We are troubled in your wrath.
You have set our iniquities before you,
our secret sins in the light of your presence.
For all our days have passed away in your wrath.
We bring our years to an end as a sigh.
The days of our years are seventy,
or even by reason of strength eighty years;
yet their pride is but labor and sorrow,
for it passes quickly, and we fly away.
Why is it, by the way, that you’d believe that a generation can be anything other than what the scriptures define? There are so many little studies I did in child like curiosity and learned so many little things. Check every single reference to lifetime and you’ll see, a generation is forty if a life for the mighty would eighty be. Christ died and prophesied that a generation would see, and then thus it was that less than that it came to pass and thus they came to see. Why should I though all I know who believed have thus died believed what was not taught? Is it not man who over whom man it is that injury is wrought?
I apologize. While there might be some meter or rhyme, I haven’t the slight clue how to communicate it in writ. I offer you thus what you might imagine is puss, but I hope instead you see wit.
I am a gift from God, think no more of myself from sod, of where a seed dost thus lay. However this wheat should be no more neat than in thus death it stray. For in that if it be true then thus it is that I do a seed a harvest display. I long ago since died, and each time I think it the last that I’ve cried, but as your child I’d lied, and thus I lay my heart humbly before you this day.
I, Angela Marie Niblick Benson Baxley, and of all other aliases both present and formerly, am of sound mind and judgement of body.
“For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline.” — 2 Timothy 1:7
I seek love and self-discipline, and the power to overcome weakness in speech.
But first, I shower.
Connected the ancestry.com dots from me to William Faulkner. Took about 20 minutes thanks to genealogy databases. Now to bed!
— Angela Glass (@Baxley) November 1, 2011
“I know, you’re bi-polar.”
“Old man, look at my life, I’m a lot like you were.”
Born to Be Happy, Through a Twist of Human Hard Wire
By RICHARD A. FRIEDMAN, M.D.
In the course of the last year, the woman lost her husband to cancer and then her job. But she did not come to my office as a patient; she sought advice about her teenage son who was having trouble dealing with his father’s death.
Despite crushing loss and stress, she was not at all depressed – sad, yes, but still upbeat. I found myself stunned by her resilience. What accounted for her ability to weather such sorrow with buoyant optimism? So I asked her directly.
“All my life,” she recalled recently, “I’ve been happy for no good reason. It’s just my nature, I guess.”
But it was more than that. She was a happy extrovert, full of energy and enthusiasm who was indefatigably sociable. And she could get by with five or six hours of sleep each night.
Like this woman, a journalist I know realized when she was a teenager that she was different from others. “It’s actually kind of embarrassing to be so cheerful and happy all the time,” she said. “When I was in high school I read the Robert Browning poem `My Last Duchess.’ In it, the narrator said he killed his wife, the duchess, because, `she had a heart – how shall I say, too soon made glad?’ And I thought, uh-oh, that’s me.”
These two women were lucky to be born with a joyous temperament, which in its most extreme forms is called hyperthymia. Cheerful despite life’s misfortunes, energetic and productive, they are often the envy of all who know them because they don’t even have to work at it.
In a sense, they are the psychiatric mirror image of people who suffer from a chronic, often lifelong, mild depression called dysthymia, which affects about 3 percent of American adults. Always down, dysthymics experience little pleasure and battle through life with a dreary pessimism. Despite whatever fortune comes their way, they remain glum.
But hyperthymia certainly doesn’t look like an illness; there appears to be no disadvantage to being a euphoric extrovert, except, perhaps, for inspiring an occasional homicidal impulse from jealous friends or peers. But little is actually known about people with hyperthymia for the simple reason that they don’t see psychiatrists complaining that they are happy.
Think You Got What It Takes?
Leadership, “Madness,” and Empathic Power : Mockingbird
What makes the great ones?
Ask almost anyone anywhere, and you’ll get the same response: some form of personal exertion, “determination” or “perseverance” or “vision”.
Ask almost anyone, and you’ll receive a response rooted in the individual’s uncompromising leadership–they’ll speak of the necessary qualities which brought him/her to helm in a time when he/she was most needed.
Others might go so far as to say that this kind of leadership sits within us all, but is only activated when one realizes it, believes in oneself, and confidently makes the strides towards achievement.
This mythology speaks for presidents as much as social activists or stadium rockers. It is the “I will” and not the “Can I?” that brings one beyond one’s constraints…
Listen to He Walks With Me (In The Garden) “Song for Grandpa” by Tina and Herbie Niblick
He and my grandma Madonna conjured up fifteen kids to fill up an old large white house on Hessen Cassel in Fort Wayne, Indiana. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like to go to school with the Niblick kids. My momma has a clue, rumor has it that it was not just one, but at least two of the Niblick boys that she’d dated.
You’ll note that there are just three girls, and twelve strapping handsome boys—my daddy is the long haired one, cross-legged, front and center, Matthew Raymund Morris Michael Niblick.
In 1983 when my daddy died, I remember my momma “getting sad” from a song on the television. It was Judy Collins on the Muppet Show, Send in the Clowns (video below).
Until now, it had never occurred to me whether or not any of her sadness came from the fact that his daddy was a clown,… and how it must feel for a parent to lose their child. Isn’t enough that she was just 21, widowed with two children, and pregnant with her third?
Sometimes life just isn’t fair.
I had wanted to talk to my Grandpa Niblick about his time in Nicaragua. A little bit after my grandma died a few years ago he up and moved to Nicaragua.
It wasn’t entirely shocking as my Aunt Tina had been in Barbados for what seems like forever. She, known in her work as Sister La’el, tells me, “he clowned for MANY years, even while in Nicaragua. During the service years he was also in Africa and Greenland.”
I think it’s only appropriate, twenty eight years later, to play Send in the Clowns.
This time, it’s for my grandpa, who was always the only clown that mattered in my life.