I understand why our Lord went into the desert to fast. It’s impossible to find the solitude and peace required if you keep a foot in every day life. And it’s difficult to avoid walking by a television; you’d be surprised how often there are commercials for a delicious looking food playing. You can’t even watch a movie because at some point the actors will eat something and it’ll look like the best food you’ve ever seen. Not that you ought to be watching movies or moving around while fasting. It’s a time of healing and prayer – another reason for the desert.
But I’ve tried keeping my foot in every day life and here’s some issues I’ve encountered:
My parents bought a new house recently. There are always little surprises discovered about the property after one’s moved in and in this case, they discovered that a seven foot tall negro with a history of mental health problems is in the habit of lounging around under some trees near the road in our front yard. As luck would have it, he’d never be there when I was present. My mom even got a call from a friend once, concerned that someone was walking around our house and looking in the windows. What really angered me was when my sister came to visit. I was told this negro was out by those trees in the front yard, staring at her and my mom. Well, to put my reaction in negro slang: “Oh, Hell naw!”
By day five of my water fast I was predictably feeling nauseous and weak. The detox had begun in earnest. That morning I was taking a shower at my parent’s house. I heard my mom go out the door, apparently heading into town. I toweled off and on the way back to my room, I noticed, through a window, my mom was in her car, window half rolled up, and exchanging words with an adamant and agitated looking, seven foot tall negro. I might have been weak, but dear readers, (to use a cliche’): I exploded with rage. I was almost like Adam West’s Batman, only instead of sliding down a poll and emerging fully clad, I ran into the closet and instantly popped out with all my clothes on. I put on the first thing I could grab which, appropriately, was my “I heart Haters” t-shirt (instead of the word “heart” it has an actual heart). I walked the thirty yards towards the scene with my fists clinched, my muscles primed, and my jaw aching from the bursts of adrenaline.
I must have presented a sight because his attitude changed when he saw me, and after a few sharp words, (I told him I’m like a dog; when people enter my territory, I get angry and unpredictable), he sauntered off. I’m still worried about him though. I don’t trust him any farther than I could throw him. About an hour later, when the adrenaline wore off and I was able to relax again, I felt thoroughly spent. That little episode had taken more out of me than I realized and I suspect, had the encounter come to blows, well, … well, I’d probably still have beaten him but it’d have been a lot closer of a contest. :)
Then there’s the whole matter of Heimbach and the NPI.
He called me up earlier in the week and told me that Richard Spencer of the National Policy Institute (an organization founded, in part, by the great Sam Francis), kicked him out of the conference on account of his anti-homosexual views and his acceptance of violence.
Now, to be fair to Spencer, I don’t know what the exact charges were, but it seems a few years back, after my CPAC shenanigans, Heimbach and I did a podcast for Counter Currents where, maybe during some of my attempted humor, I said something about executing homosexuals. Of course, I really do think they ought to be executed, but only after a fair trial. We wouldn’t want to execute a poet or playwright just because a bunch of blue collar guys have their masculinity threatened. The Bible says two or more witnesses are required for a hanging.
At any rate, it seems that podcast and subsequent differences of opinion have earned Heimbach the boot. Indomitable guy that he is, he’s heading to DC anyway and wants to hang out with all the Christians there who might no longer be comfortable with NPI’s anti-Christian, pro-homosexual stance.
I figure the least I can do is go support him this weekend. I feel partially responsible for his situation. Plus, it’ll be nice to celebrate All Hallow’s Eve with a group of friends who appreciate the holy day for what it is and respect the old European, Christian, aesthetic. I can’t emphasize enough how refreshing it is to be around like-minded people in real life situations (especially when alcohol is involved). It’s a balm to the soul, and I need as much of it as I can get right now.
…only problem is, it’ll be extremely hard to maintain my water fast.
Please forgive me, dear readers, if I don’t make it. A seven day water fast isn’t as great as a 30 day one, health wise, but it’s still pretty good, right? I hope?