Nehemiah's Request

The occupant of the oval at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave in Washington has whipped up a clusterfud of confusion and destruction in Iran. All hell seems to be breaking loose, but this is nothing new. In 1979, when Iranians took control of our embassy in Tehran, I was pondering those events, trying to comprehend the historical precedents that had provoked such rage among the Iranian people. Considering history. . . ancient history, as documented in that ancient book, the Bible, I turned to the chapter that had been written by a Hebrew named Nehemiah. He was serving as an aide to Artaxerxes, the Persian king, in Susa, the capitol city; it was a far cry from his home in Jerusalem. 

Nehemiah had written, back in those ancient times, an account of his request to King Artaxerxes, a document that is now included in the biblical canon. The biblical account of their conversation is found in chapter two of the book of Nehemiah. The king asked his aide, Nehemiah: "Why is your face sad, though you are not sick? This is nothing but sadness of heart? What would be your request?" Nehemiah replied: "If it please the king, and if your servant has found favor before you, send me to Judah, to the city of my fathers' tombs, that I may rebuild it." That was then, a long, long time ago, in a kingdom far away. Nowadays, things are different. Oh, how times have changed! That ancient cooperation between a Jew and a Persian king is a thing of the past. In 1979, our American embassy in Tehran Iran was attacked by Iranian zealots. They held as hostages, our US State Department ambassadors and staff, for 444 days. At that time, I wrote a song about the circumstances surrounding our diplomats and other peacemakers in the Middle East region. The song, December '79, included these lines: "There's a Jew on the one side, Muslim on the other, and Abraham in between. Open the Koran; open the Torah, but look at John 3:16. He (Jesus)came to show us that all men are brothers, however it may seem." I am a Christian, a follower of Jesus, who teaches: "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God." Now in this day and time, we see something different happening there, between Israel and Iran . What it is ain't exactly clear; there's prez with some bombs over here, telling the Iranians to beware. Stop, hey, what's that sound? Everybody look what's going down!. . .  But my song, now 46 years old, is still relevant; it is a plea for peace. It includes these words: Sons of Isaac, come together; sons of Ishmael too; come and behold the Lamb of God, who came to see us through; He came to bring us the sword of the Spirit, in the tradition of Abraham. Sword of the flesh, soon obsolete, He brings peace to the family of Man. We've got a song to sing; we've got a bell to ring; we've got a loving king in Jesus! You can listen to the December '79 recording, when, with a little help from me friends, we recorded it in Asheville. Here's the link on http://www.careyrowland.com  http://www.micahrowland.com/carey/WeGottaSong.mp3 King of Soul

Advise and Consent

In ancient history, there was a Persian king, Cyrus, who conquered the Babylonians; Cyrus was sucseeded by Darius. During the reign of Darius, a Hebrew prophet, Daniel, provided good counsel, which was later included in the prophetic books of that ancient book, the Bible. In my Bible, I find, in the book of Daniel. . . history, prophecy and wisdom that was relevant to the events of that time, but also, in a larger sense, human events as they unfold in all ages, including this modern age in which we live and move and have our being.

In the 11th chapter of Daniel, we find these words: "the king will do as he pleases, and will exalt and magnify himself. . .he will show no regard for the gods of his fathers. . .but instead, he will honor a god of forces. Rumors from the east and from the north will disturb him, and he will go forth with great wrath to destroy and annihilate many." So. . . that was the prophetic observation of an ancient prophet about historical events that happened long, long ago in a kingdom far, far away. But I can't help but notice a similarity between that ancient self-obsessed king and the present occupant of our oval office, a president who has no respect for - perhaps no awareness - of our American Constitution and our historic Rule of Law; donald trump's recent missile attacks directed at the people of (Persia)Iran may be a weird, ironic coincidence - an odd instance of history repeating itself, but in reverse! But we Americans have a Constitution - and a Congress - that promulgates aggression against foreign enemies; trump has no authority to declare war against Iran; he has no authority to take it upon himself against the Iranian people. So, here is what our our former president, Bill Clinton, said about trump's unauthorized, illegal missile attacks on Iran: "So here's what I'm asking of every American. . .I'm asking you to pay a attention. I'm asking Congress - both parties - to assert its Constitutional role. Not next month. Now. . . I'm asking the administration to present a plan - not a social media post - a plan, for what comes after the bombs stop falling. I'm asking all of us to remember that democracy is not a spectator sport. It requires every single one of us to remember; stay engaged; s stay informed, and hold our leaders to the highest standard, especially when the stakes are life and death.We've been through hard times before; we've made mistakes before; But America, at its best, has always found a way to correct course, not because our leaders are perfect, but because our people demand better. That's the thing about this country. The power was never really in the oval office. It was always with you. God bless the men and women in uniform; God bless the people of Iran who want to be free." As for me and my blog. . . just sayin', as a citizen of these United States, I agree with President Clinton. With trump's abuse of power, We the People should endorse out Congress to remove trump from the oval, because of his presumptuous, unauthorized murder of Iranian citizens. Impeach trump now: get it done! Glass half-Full

Thanks to Porter

A funny thing happened on the way to my email this morning. I got a long message from Porter Stansberry. His message was so interesting, (and so convincing) that I decided to write a reply, and here it is: Thank you for this comprehensive analysis. Your perception and analysis is quite accurate. Even so, it borders on irrelevance. That's because, the largest, most important issue of this life is what happens at the end of it - and how that belief, or determination, relates to our decisions about how this earthly life ought to be conducted. There was a man (he happened to be a Jew) who lived 2000 years ago. He lived, and he taught, in a manner that was disruptive to the Roman/Hebrew culture of that Palestinian era. His message of peace, self-control, love of fellow man, and yes, love of our Creator, was well received by many people. Nevertheless, his revolutionary message of love and compassion for others - especially people of low status - that message, along with his mounting popularity - landed him in the precarious middle of a cultural, Empirical controversy. And so the powers that be got together and solved their problem by putting an end to Him. But not to worry. Three days after his execution, Jesus woke up. He awakened - not from sleep - but from death itself.

And if you believe that, I've got some real estate in heaven that we'll share with you. By the way, this message is the most important that you will ever receive. The consequences surrounding the end of each (of our) human life. . . are far more important to consider and act upon than any worldly issue, whether its global warming, climate change, personal identity, sexual identity, magamania, peace on earth, pieces of the pie, or any politician's lie. . . So therefore, I recommend that you educate yourself about this man, Jesus, and his message of eternal peace and love. You can read all about it in the best-selling book on this planet. . . you know that old volume that is usually contained in a black cover. You can find it in most bookstores, all libraries, and in the shelves of many of your neighbors. Just ask around. You won't be disappointed. I guarantee, and if you don't believe me. . .as Dylan said. . ."look around you; its bound to make you embarassed." This life is quite confusing, so it's not really worth hanging onto. So follow the example of the One who conquered death itself. King of Soul

Boston's Beating Heart

The heartbeat of our United States of America began in 1620, when the Pilgrims, a religious group striving to break away from European constraints, landed on the north American continent. From that time onward, American Liberty was taken very seriously, expressed maximally in our Declaration of Independence in 1776, and our US Constitution in 1781. Massachusetts was the seedbed of our liberty, actualized in those early days by firebrand Boston patriots. That history is acknowledged nowadays in the name of the NFL team, the New England Patriots. With all due respect to the football team, I'll mention that the word "patriots" has a much deeper meaning than any gridiron team can represent. If you will walk through Boston today, as I did, you'll notice that this city still has an obsession with expressing and exporting Liberty and Justice for all Americans. . . because, you see. . .It all started here, in Boston. As a 74-year-old southerner, I am amazed at these Boston preservations and commemorations of our Liberty legacies. While strolling through the Massachusetts State House today (what we call a state capitol) I was pleasantly surprised to enter into a very large room, the Great Hall, where American liberties are still being actively recognized, utilized, and maximized, as citizens assemble to express themselves in a manner that can only be described as "American." 

Being a clueless visitor, I did not linger long enough to discern the purposes for which this gathering of citizens had assembled, and I could not get close enough to the orators to discern their message, but I was aware that our American "Liberty and Justice for all" was being demonstrated and actualized in this great hall of the Massachusetts State House. Paul Revere, John Adams, John Hancock, who was the first patriot to sign our Declaration of Independence . . .

and Frederick Douglass would all be proud of the heritage that these patriots had initiated by their bold demands for Independence, and for Liberty and Justice for all Americans. . . and furthermore. . . for all peoples everywhere, if we Americans have anything to do with it.  These Massachusetts citizens even have, in their State House, a Liberty Bell with no crack in it!

Glass half-Full

Ravenous Phone

While I wandered, meek and dreary, over many a vain and curious volume of online lore, suddenly there came a beeping, as of something online bleeping. . . some message beeping up at my phoney door, as of someone bleeping on my smarty phone but sounding like a phonish drone T'is some caller, I muttered, buzzing at my phony door, only this and nothing more. Pshaw! I get a bleep, just as I am tuned for sleep, but probably Cloudius, the Ai creep, blinking, winking, spamming at my phony door: only this and nothing more. some voice speaking in a dronish tone, bleeping on my smarty phone, droning to my apple core, only this and nothing more. . . like Kubrick's space oddyssey computer pal, spamming like a handheld Hal Here's a call. what comes next, looking like a spam. I have a phone; therefore I am. I'm Shmeegle glimpsing the golden glint in the stream, but having not a hint, clueless of this glassy machine even though I take it everywhere I go. So now I ponder; at last I'm napping: no more tapping on my phoney door. Yeah, I shut the phoney door; I flung it down upon the floor. (just kidding; maybe one day.) Now I lay me down to sleep; do not disturb me with your beep. Ask for me tomorrow and you will find me a phoneless man… if I can. oh oh . . .maybe not. You may think I'm just an ole baby boomer; but that is just a phoney rumor. But someday I'll fly away from this phoney world to my eternal home. 

Glass half-Full

Shakesdownian Tragedy

A classic Shakedownian tragedy unfolds now, unexpectedly, as Mctrump, thane of MarLago, discovers, with horror, his dunce-in-game doth move against Bretton Woods, the 82-year-old fiscal/financial arrangement of the free world, just as the witch of endorgame destruction had predicted. There's no joy left in wall street; mighty Donald has struck out. Wall Street traders frown as the Dow doth trickle down; S&P's lower their standards as Poor investors are constrained to redirect their assets toward new depositories. Just as the witch of End-our-rally had predicted. As wise investors and financial wizards think again. . . as they reroute their wealth through Carney's new Toronto/Euro/Davos financial superhighway, instead of Mctrump's tarriffizing toll booth, the donald discovers that his Dunce-in-game-castle, soon to be bogged down in the sands of obsolescence, is being dismantled. . . as the Bretton Woods - that NATO/world financial forum witch is now 82 years old . . . creeps, slowly Bretton Woods creeps. . . step by step, toward destruction, just like tricky dick's CREEP, the committee to re-elect the president back in '73 . . . but now in 2026. . . step by step, tranche by tranche, toward Mctrump's doomed dunce-in-game castle. Yeah, I say unto thee that now the old yankee-dollar-based world wealth web doth disappear into thin air

as the nations of the world redirect their wealth streams into the international loo, and set their assets down on new terms of of Euro, Renmimbi, Ruble, Rupee, francly speaking, and pounds, shillings, sterling, dinar, mark, riel, rupee, real, leu, krones, maybe even skull and bones, but mainly probably renmimbi, since the Chinese are now able, or so it seems, to Xijinping their way beyond dollar dependency, as the Xi hits the fans of international wealth exchange. I mean, there it is, in the distance, on the other side of the world, where BRICs are being stacked up to construct a new world order, apart from yankee comfort stations. . .thanks to Mctrump's maga being dissembled, as Bretton Woods slithers against his dunce-in-game antics, the wide pathway is now opening up for China. . allied with the other BRICs, on the other side of the world. . .

But On a lighter note. . . As for me and my house, in the winter of '26, we divert a small portion of our food stocks to feed the birds who frequent our Appalachian homestead. In so doing, we folllow the example of our Creator, providing feed for the birds, as Jesus had spoken, back in the ancient days, about how the birds of the air are fed by their father in heaven, or as is the case here. . . by the Rowland household.

By the grace and provision of God, we are enabling the birds to, as Ringo had said, "get by with a little help from me friends." They need not worry about worldly finances. Smoke

We Stand Corrected

We Americans stand corrected. We are not standing back; we are not standing by. I don't know but I been told this nation was founded on a Constitution that's 245 years old. I was born in the Deep South in 1951, but I ain't no rebel; I choose to be an American citizen with all the rights and privileges thereof, just like all the other citizens of this country, whether they're black, brown, yellow or purple. . . purple meaning they can't decide which political party they belong to, because trump has taken over the oval by hook or by crook, even after the proud boueys and the oathbleepers and the threeperdenters failed to clusterfud our Congress on January 6, 2021. Now I don't know but I been told that Abraham Lincoln and some anti-slavery patriots founded the Republican party in 1854; And we had to fight a civil war to get all those slavers in the deep south in line with our Declaration, which says that "All men are created equal, and are endowed by their Creator with life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." And then, five years later, we wrote our Constitution, which was later upgraded when Congress added our 14th amendment in 1868, after our yankee patriots had whooped the rebels' asses at Gettysburg, where President Lincoln said:

"from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave their last full measure of devotion - that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain - that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom - and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth." Now I don't know but I been told that these magamaniacs nowadays are still claiming to be Republicans, with their gerrymandering racist antics, as if they were still allied with the party of Lincoln. As for me and my lousy situation, I am still a registered Republican; but I notice that, as bro' Bob sang, a while back, "things have changed." So I'm having an identity crisis. Meanwhile, back at our Boone homestead, I guess I'll have to go down to the county courthouse to switch my registration to Democratic. I guess I'll join up with the party of Jesse Jackson. I mean, I might as well. . . I shook hands with him one time while crossing the street. That was the year that the Democrats had their convention in Charlotte. In an earlier year, Jesse had been with Dr. King when he was shot dead in Memphis by some rebel racist.  And now. . . come to find out Jesse just died, a patriot who, like Dr. King and Medgar Evers, had given his first and last devotion to the the cause of civil rights and freedom and dignity for all people.

 And I find that bro' Jesse had said that America's like a patchwork quilt, with all the patches stitched together by a common thread. Now in honor of Jesse, and Martin and Abraham, we need that common thread stitched up tight; we must not let it be slithered by the magamaniacs, the faux republicans, the insurrectionists and the trumpists. You know, the Bible says that when Jesus returns, the trumpet shall sound. Not the trumpists! Blessed are the peacemakers! And as Dr. King had said:  "And I did try, in my life, to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to visit those who were in prison, to love and serve humanity. . ." That's the common thread that we need to keep stitching into the fabric of America! Glass half-Full</i>

Advising the King

The Widening gyre continues from long, long ago, right into the here and now. Even so, ponder the past, the present and the future. Beginning with the past: About 26 centuries ago. . . a wise aide, Daniel, while speaking to the king of Babylon, Nebuchadnezzar, delivered counsel that is and ought to be advised for leaders in all of history, all eras, seasons, all continents. Daniel said this: "This is the interpretation, O king, and this is the decree of the Most High, which has come upon my lord, the king: . . . that you be driven away from mankind and your dwelling place be amongthe beasts of the field, and you be given grass to eat like cattle, and be drenched with the dew of heaven; and seven periods of time will pass over you, until you recognize that the Most High Lord of the Universe (God) is ruler over the realm of mankind; and He bestows authority on whomever He enables." (You catch my drift?) "And in regarding that it was commanded to leave the tree stump with the roots of the tree (see Daniel chapter 4 in the Old Testament) your kingdom will be assured to you after you recognize that it is the Creator of the Universe who is still is charge of these developments. Therefore, O king, my advice to you would be: break away now from doing what is wrong, by performing rightly and by showing mercy to the poor, in the event that your prosperity is prolonged." Meanwhile, civilization kept going along the time trail. . .And then. . . and then 600 years passed.

Jesus, Yeshua ha Meschiach, came along; he prescribed the way toward true peace, love and justice for all mankind: Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the true authority; Blessed are the people who are gentle, for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for what is right; they shall be satisfied. Blessed are the merciful folks, for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the peacemakers; for they shall be called sons and daughters of the Lord of All. Blessed are they who have been persecuted for the sake of doing what is right, for theirs is the eternal kingdom of heaven. Now there's some serious longevity! Glass half-Full

the New World to Come

Profound words to read in the ancient book: “And I saw, in the right hand of Him who sat on the throne, a book written inside and on the back, sealed up with seven seals. And I saw a strong angel proclaiming with a loud voice, ‘Who is worthy to open the book, and to break its seals?’ And no one in heaven or on the earthor under the earth was able to open the book and to and to break or to look into it. Then I began to weep greatly because no one was found worthy to open the book or to look into it; and one of the elders said to me, ’Stop weeping; behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the root of David, has overcome so as to open the book and its seven seals.’ And I saw between the throne (with the four living creatures) and the elders, a Lamb standing, as if slain, having seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven Spirits of God, sent out into the earth. And he came and he took the book out of the right hand of Him who sat on the throne. When He had taken the book, the four living creatures and the twenty four elders fell down before the Lamb, each one holding a harp and golden bowls of incense, which are the prayers of saints. And they sang a new song, saying: ‘Worthy are you to take the book and to break its seals; for you were slain; and you procured, for the Lord, with Your blood, men from every tribe and language, and every people group, every nation. You have made them to be a kingdom and priests, preachers, proponents for our Lord. In the long run, they will reign on the earth.’ ”

The bottom line is: The eternal kingdom established by Jesus. He, having conquered death itself, and along with that. . . having conquered all of our sin, all our depravity, all of our insurrection and rebellion against the Creator of Life itself, and having defeated our degenerate attempts to correct ourselves and the world we inhabit. . . You should prepare now, to be with Him! Hear Revelation 5:9 Carey Rowland

Wreck of the American Congress

I borrowed some poetic structure and phrasing from our Canadian neighor, Gordon Lightfoot. His classic song, "Wreck of the Edmund Gerald" was a masterpiece of ballad composition. Because we, who live south of the border, suffered a destructive insurrection on Januar 6, 2021: The legend lives on from the Pilgrims on down, of the nation they call America. The nation, it is known, goes on and on, though the riots of Jan6 turned looney. With a flag of stars and stripes, fifty states still intact, a Constitution and Congress acting boldly,  our nation was no bone to be chewed by a mob of loud boys, oath breakers and riotous boys Our nation is the pride of the American people, holding steady from election to election. As the world nations go, we are stronger than most, with a Constitution and Congress well seasoned. Concluding some terms with Electoral returns, when the Congress was meeting in session, in the middle of the day when the Congress bell rang, could it be the insurrection they were hearing?

The shouts in the halls made a tattle tale sound and some loud boys broke into the session. When counting time came, the vice president said, Electors, it's too rough to count 'em. The Speaker called in they had attackers coming in and the Congress and crew were in peril And later that day when law and order went outa sight came the January 6th insurrection. Does anyone know where the Rule of Law goes when rioters ran our Congress into hiding? The searchers all say we'd have saved it that day if the guards had not been beaten and smattered. They might have fell down or they might have been tazed when our ship of state was in peril. Now all that remains is our congress trying to sail 'er. America rolls on, ship of state still in peril, still sailin' in the cities and states of our nation. Our states still united; our anthem we sing in the folds of American history. In a crusty ole ship of state we hang on in our Constitutional procedures. The Liberty bell rang and it rang fifty times, for each state in historic nation. Our rule of law lives on in the chambers of Congressional order.

Our nation, we recall, ain't insurrected; that's all. Liberty and Justice for all, and Congress won't take a fall! Glass half-Full

Ben Went Home

Ben had put away his labors and his cares, toward tranquility. Nearby the community of friends and believers stood waiting. We passed through paths of Bible study, prayer and fellowship. His labors now completed. As Ben approached God's Son,

His life crossed path with ours. The news spread among our people, from hour to hour. We had been gathering in Ben's earthly home, where Connie had made such hospitality known We never saw death coming, until a few days before Soon we knew, but were knowing not the day nor hour Ben's earthly life would, in heaven, begin again. And now it has resumed, with Jesus, born again. Eternal life with Jesus will go far, far beyond the paltry seventy-one years, now far gone. So now Ben has run his seventy-one year race. He's already met our Savior, Jesus, face to face. Do not be sad. Rejoice; be glad! King of Soul

The Bold Ai

If you're old timer like me, you may remember. . . back in the day. . . the old railroads, before jets were all the rage.

 Now trains are most folks third choice, after planes and cars. Also, if you're an old timer like me, you may be amazed at how , as Bard Bob had sung. . . the time's they are (and were) a 'changin'. . . Well sho'nuff, scruffy, they did, and now we got ourselves a brand spankin' new internet. . . well maybe not so new any more, since Hal, and TCP, cuz LSD had gone the way of the buffalo, and then there's IP and wobblies - but not like the old workers of the world union a hundred years ago. . . How big's your RAM? Are you ready for the dot.com craze? crazy baby! like, far out!, like wolfman jack used to say. . . and suddenly we're surfing on floppy discs and chomping down them megabytes and playin 'our gigabytes like rock bands used to play gigs. . . Then twitter came along. . . but it got X'd out by a musk ox heavyweight. . . Heavy, man! Far out! Facebook metastasized. Heavy, man!. . .like, far out! so cool. . . here's a little diddy I pecked out on the ole laptop. If you're old enough, maybe you can sing it to the old tune: 

Here's a little diddy I pecked out on the ole laptop. If you're old enough, maybe you can sing it to the old tune: I've been working on the internet, all the live long day. I've been tromping on the worldweb, just to pass the time away. Can't you hear the Ai calling, scrolling early in the morning? Can't you see the Ai scrolling. . . Lexi won't you blow; Siri won't you blow, Slexi, won't you roll your scroll! Someone's in the software with Lexi; someone's in the web, we know-oh,oh! Someone's in the webby with Siri, coding in the online flow. Fee, fie, fiddly Ai; uh,oh. . . Fee, fie fiddly Ai uh,oh. Fee fie, fiddly Ai, oh, coding on the online show. Ride, ride, ride them rails, baby! just like the old days. . . Underground Railroad Rides Again

Medgar Evers' Home

Medgar Evers was a Mississippi native, born in 1925. He was a US Army veteran who had fought in World War II. Upon returning to his Mississippi home, he was told to go to the back of the bus. After that incident, he served as field secretary in Mississippi. In June, 1963, Medgar was shot dead in his own front yard. 

In my novel, King of Soul, LSU students Donnie and Kevin take a road trip from Louisiana to Kent, Ohio in May, 1970. Along their travel path, they stop, in the night, at an historic spot in Jackson, Mississippi, the home of Medgar Evers. "I think it's that second or third house on the left," said Donnie." . . .with a carport, and a halfway-up brick wall on the front." He gazed into the driveway. "That's where he was when they shot him." "Damn," said Kevin. . . "in his own front yard! What is wrong with these people?" He stopped the car. The two young men stared at the house. . . "One thing that sticks in my memory - the next day. I had just walked in our house, which is only about three miles from here. . . When I went home that day, my mother said that our maid, Aleen, would not be coming in that day, because Medgar Evers had been shot. . ." But beyond the murderous crimes of this world, we Christians know that Medgar was taken up to heaven, to join the ranks of all men and women who have ever believed in Jesus for Resurrection. He had just left a Wednesday night church meeting when a racist murderer fired the shot that delivered the disciple of Christ into heaven. 

What's tragic is that the racist and magamaniac assassins of this world do not comprehend that we Christians will all be gathered together in the everlasting Life of Jesus Christ, who died a criminal death, and yet lived to tell about it.  Jesus said: "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them; and they follow me; and they will never perish - no one will snatch them out of my hand!" King of Soul

Reflections on Ben's End

Yes, boobie; there is a natural body; but there is also a spiritual body. You believe that? Hold on to your horses; We're not done yet. It is written in the ancient book: The first man, Adam, became a living being; the last Adam, a life-giving spirit. The spiritual man did not come first, but the natural, and after that the spiritual. The first man was of the dust of the earth, as was the woman. 

The second man came from heaven. 

And just as we have borne the likeness of the earthly man, Adam. . .so shall we bear the likeness of the man from heaven, Jesus. . .We Christians declare to you, ye people of the earth, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the eternal kingdom of God; nor does the perishable person inherit his/her perished body. (Hate to break it to ya, but we all know, at a certain adult age, that it's true: we will all breathe our last in THE BIG ONE, the last straw, the end of the line.  But hey! Listen up: I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep; be we shall all be changed - in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound (the trumpet that calls each person). . . to summon you and me, and my friend Ben, who just heard the call. . .

Ben Cox left this life, February 9th, 2026The dead will be raised, imperishible, and we will all be changed. For the perishable body must be clothed. . . in the long run. . . in the big picture of eternity. When that happens, then the saying that is written, "Death has been swallowed up in victory!" is manifested in each Christian life.  The grace to live a good life was given to us before the beginning of time, but it was fully revealed through the embodiment of Jesus Christ, who conquered death, after suffering through its slings and arrows of outrageous treatment. He demonstrated for us eternal life, immortality. . . with its fullest purpose and relevance through His teaching, His endurance, His conquest of death. ( We can comprehend this now.Thanks to the Hebrews writer, and Timothy). And now he has called my friend Ben home! Traveler's Rest

King of Soul

Old World Conservative

In 1972, I was serving as chairman of the LSU Union Speakers Committee; we hosted William F. Buckley. After driving Mr. Buckley from the airport, I was watching him, in a hotel room, as he prepared for the event. Many years later, I utilized that memory in a fictional scene of my 2017 novel, King of Soul

"American students have a responsibility to acquire a knowledge of history, Mr. Buckley said. Donnie was watching the lightning-rod editor of the National Review put on his skinny necktie. ". . . and the responsibility of the well-tempered University," he continued, "is to educate students in such a way that you are able to comprehend the world, not only as it is now, but as it has been in earlier days." "Dont you think," asked Donnie, that the world as it is now is more dangerous than it has ever been in earlier times?" "Oh, no question about it." An impish smile crept across Buckley's face. The look in his eye afforded Donnie a momentary glimpse into the workings of a classic mind. "When you consider that a bellicose exchange between President Kennedy, the leader of the free world, and Nikita Khruschev, the leader of the communist world, brought us, in one moment of time, within a hare's breath of nuclear disaster, you see the fragility of our situation, and yet the world as it turns every hour, every day, in the streets of our cities, in the fields of our countrysides, is the same as its ever been. It plods along as it always has. Babies are born; they cry. People die and are buried. And we see to preserve the peace and safety and freedom of all. But one foolish exchange between leaders who are too fixated upon their own arrogance can inflict damage that is irreparable for many generations. Our greatest implement is reason." "So we must reason with the Russians?" "Oh, we have no choice, but we need to remember that they speak a different language. And I refer not only to the Russian language as compared to our English language. Here in the United States, we have a language of civility. We conservatives take upon ourselves the responsibility to sustain and extend that language - it is a type of covenant, far back into history, as far back as Abraham."

King of Soul

Life's a Beach

We study the scriptures within a small group, four couples who meet on Thursday nights at Ben and Connie's home.  A couple of years ago we attended a men's church retreat that took place at a convention facility on Oak Island, North Carolina. Gene drove his car from the western end of North Carolina all the way to Oak Island. On the second day of the retreat, Chip, Gene, Ben and I took a stroll on the beach, which was just across the road from the retreat facility. Our friend, our pastor, Ben Cox was alive and well during our oceanside stroll here:

Now I have a sister-in-law who lives in that area. Her home is just s two-block distance from that beach. This evening I was walking along on the sea strand at dusk, accompanied by my daughter and my niece, both of them now grownups. In the brilliance of sun this sunset, my niece snapped a picture of my daughter and me.

 She is married to a USAF pilot. Just a few days before her visit here, she had strolled on Pacifica beach in California, on the other side of the continent. Pilot's and pilot's wives have the benefit of flying across continents, across oceans, even around the world. . . because of what the Wright Brothers had initiated, over a century ago. . . just up the coast from here, at Kitty Hawk. At that moment, and just now, after dinner, as I am seated comfortably in a living room, contemplating the loss of my dear friend Ben, who had been with us on that same surf path, not so long ago. And so I turn to the ancient book for some understanding about this tender life on a planet where beach sunsets are so incredibly beautiful, but they do signal the end of something. . . the termination of a day, the conclusion of another day in the life, and in some cases, the meditation on a friend who trod this beach with us, not so long ago. But now Ben has been summoned into that eternal realm, where there is no pain of death, and the scenery far surpasses a beach sunrise or sunset. In the final pages of HIStory, we read a Revelation about these worldly potentialities: "And I saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, made ready as a bride for her husband. . . Behold the tabernacle of God is among men, and He will dwell among them, and they shall be His people". . . And I will, once again, walk with my friend, Ben, on the beach of Eternity. Glass half-Full

Christian Ben

Ben entered this life as the son of a Christian pastor. After educational preparations, he served the Christian community as a pastor and preacher on behalf of the Lord Jesus Christ. But Ben Cox was much more than a pastor; he was a skilled businessman, a publisher, a teacher, a husband, a father, a friend, a singer, a laborer. 

You could even say that Ben was a Renaissance man, a man for all seasons, all skill pursuits. I met him when Pat and I moved to Boone, back in the day, 1980. Ben and Connie lived on the same street, three houses away from our humble, rented cottage where our son Micah was born. Ben and Connie had a small garden. Those were the days of countercultural rearrangement of values. Our particular path had taken the Christian turn. We were joining up with a New Testament, mildly communal group of believers who were striving to recreate the original church of Jesus Christ, as it had developed after Jesus' resurrection, when Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Paul, Cyrus and Barnabus were leading a fledgeling group of churches toward the Christian life. But prior to that time, Ben had sung with a rock band, out in Oregon. Soon after that, his life took the Christian turn; he and Connie returned to North Carolina, because we like calling North Carolina home. There we were, all in one place, a generation saved by grace, and abiding in the town named for America's original pioneer, Daniel Boone. We spent about twenty years in that community. Long about 2000, we had a church split. Some folks stayed; some left and joined other churches. Meanwhile, back on the home fronts, Ben and Connie raised their family, including six children. Pat and I raised our family, including three children. Eventually all the young'uns grew up and went their separate way. Back in Boone, Pat and I and Ben and Connie landed at the same church, the Christian Alliance. 

Ben's pastoral inclinations took a turn toward business. He published a magazine, the Journey, which covered the terrain of the Christian life as it was being lived by local folk who were active, creative, productive, and faithful. He also bought an advertising business, a very unique one, which published a multi-fold card, the Main Street Marketing card. that enabled local diners and shoppers to receive discounts on their purchases and meals. Ben and Connie CoxBen was always one of our closest friends. Our children grew up together. In the Psalms, the Word of the Lord informs us that we may expect seventy years in this earthly realm. Ben managed to hang on for an extra year. At age 71, Ben passed into the heavenly realm, where he joins with the eternal saints of the most High Lord, YWHW. He has been welcomed into that eternal kingdom by the King of Kings, Jesus Christ, who demonstrated - for all mankind -  to understand and believe that Life does, in Truth, go on, on the other side of that great divide that men and women have been confronting since Adam and Eve were in the Garden. Yes, friends and readers, there is an eternal Heaven, but you gotta believe. If you get there before I do, tell Ben I look forward to seeing him again, there, in the Eternal Kingdom of Jesus, who conquered sin and death. King of Soul

Potentialities

When in the course of human events, we make decisions, we find that some decisions are trivial; other decisions reset the course of life from that time forward. About a week ago, I happened to be in a very old home in the Boston area. While walking through the basement there, I came upon an old piece of furniture. After brushing away the dust, I discovered a very old record.

This record was produced by Columbia Records, a division of CBS, Columbia Broadcasting Company. It's probably older than me; I was born in 1951. Now with appreciation for my Wikipedia subscription, I uncover the facts about this old record: Doris Day and Buddy Clark recorded the song on November 21, 1947, three and a half years before I was born. The song was written by Joan Whitney and Alex Kramer. George Siravo conducted the CBS Orchestra. It was the #16 pop song of 1948. The flip side, "Confess" was also a hit on radio charts. 29 years later, my friend Tom produced my record album, "Songs of Rowland Something for Everyone". We recorded it "with a little help from me friends" in Nashville. The record was not something I had expected. It was an unexpected delight when Tom made it happen. 

My only promotion of the record was while sitting on the back of my pickup truck in Asheville, singing, playing, and selling a record or two here and there. Years later, however, I was sending boxes of these records to listeners in Florida, Finland, Slavakia, Korea and God only knows where. . . Back in biblical times, Jesus had told the parable of the sowers, as later told in three gospel books of the New Testament. This principle of sowing and reaping is what circulated my music to other places around this world.  1978, I turned to Jesus. By His grace and miraculous power, I was able to organize two very different groups of musicians - jazz and folk - in Asheville, North Carolina, to record another LP record, "Revelation 5:9" 

I am naming this blog "Potentialities" because I am commenting on two different paths that the songwriter/musician can follow in this life. In some cases - probably most cases, the musician has to choose between pursuing a career in music, or concentrating on family life. Back in the day, Doris Day was a star, along with Buddy Clark. They lived the life of professional entertainers, musical creators. As for me and my house - that is to say - Pat, Micah, Kim and Katie - we developed a healthy, prosperous, Christian life on a hillside in the Blue Ridge mountains. My music was set aside for higher purposes.  This kitchen table photo includes Revelation 5:9, the record, its unfolded cover, which had been printed by the Groves Printing Company where I was an employeee. . . and a wooden bowl crafted by Mike, my brother-in-law, and the lamp crafted by my wife, Pat. . . with a snowy scene outside our kitchen window.

You might say that I took, as Robert Frost had written back in the day . . ."the road not taken." It was the path not taken by professional entertainers like Doris Day and Buddy Clark. So I was no chart-climbing musical star. But hey. . . as the Traveling Wilburys had sung, back in the day. .. "It's All Right." because our happy home and family was the result of a life well lived, by the grace of God. Thus we see that fruits of our artistic labor can be rewarded in two different ways. . . domestic bliss, and/or artistic creativity. I am sure that many showbiz stars do have very good family life; it's not like you have to choose one or the other. It's all good. Life is grand. Make the best of it! Glass half-Full

Bye Bye American Law

I borrowed language from Don McLain's song from back in the day. . . Ten long years ago, I can still remember how America kept us civilized. And I knew that we had a Constitution that had kept our nation's institutions functional for a long, long while. But February made me shiver; all the news, online delivered, bad news on the internet, we couldn't take one more step.  I couldn't remember if I had cried when I had seen the Jan '21 Insurrection riot, but something touched me deep inside, the day democracy died.

So bye, bye American Law; they drove our Congress into hiding,

 cuz insurrectionists were rioting. Them bad proud boys were thinking they were in charge and this would be the day democracy dies; this would be the day our republic dies. Do we have a Constitution, written for us?, and do we have faith in God we trust, if the Independence Declaration tells us so? Do we believe in the Rule of Law? Can our Congress survive this insurrection dualing draw? And who can teach us how to get back to peace and safety? I sure don't know.

We know that maga's in love with trump, cuz we saw them attack the Capitol hump. They kicked off the insurrection; now we got no lawful direction! We were a maturing bicentennial nation, with a red, white and blue imagination. But I knew we were out of luck, the day democracy died. I started thinking, Bye, bye American Law; trump drove our nation to inflation, our Constitution to confusion; he froze our peace and safety into fascist ICE, and will this be the day our Rule of Law dies? Glass half-Full

Moses Medgar Martin Mountaintop

Moses Medgar Martin Mountaintop A long time ago, in a land far away. . . Moses went up from the plains of Moab to Mount Nebo, to the top of Pisgah. The Lord said to him, "This is the land which I swore to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, saying that I will give it to your descendants. I have let you see it with your eyes, but you shall not go over there"

Then thousands of years passed. Then later, in 1963 A.D., civil rights pioneer Medgar Evers was assassinated in his own front yard in Jackson Mississippi.  Medgar carried a vision of freedom and dignity for his people, but he did not get to, in this earthly life, the promised Constitution/Emancipation Proclamation liberty and justice for all.

Later still, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated in Memphis, April 4, 1968.

On the night before his death, he spoke: "Well, I don't know what will happen now, we've got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn't matter with me now, because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life; longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will.And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over, and I've seen the Promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land. And so I'm happytonight; I'm not worried about anything; I'm not fearing any mine. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord." Hear about it here:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K3hQNMr0A48&list=RDK3hQNMr0A48&start_radio=1

King of Soul

Can you see?

Oh say can you see, in the 2021 light What we so proudly maintained  after a riotous fight? That broad dome and wide steps through the perilous fight O'er the barricades we watched was so gallantly retained! As our Congress did dare, with teargas in the air, giving proof through the fight that our Congress was still there; O say does that Capitol Congress remain?. . . with our Presidency, o'er the land of the free, Democracy!

Glass half-Full

Human Folly

Human folly was overflowing. When I was seventeen, a seventeen minute tape gap closed the door on Nixon's dirty tricks: no more tricky dick when flood of watergate burst open every dam dirty trick that white house plumbers could contort . . . as fate and deep throat did utter in concrete caverns the secrets of their luminati break-in games. . . oh what fools these plumbers be. . . contempt of court doth rule, when such fools these dirty tricksters be. . . alas, poor richard we knew him well, until bernstein woodward did move against nixon's game. pudd'n and tane; ask me again and I'll tell you the same. Anyway, who'd have thunk it? But human folly, you see, was overflowing. . . alway was, always will, somewhere, some time, when you least expect it. Oh, but I digress. Anyway, no matter how you cut it, decades passed; time keeps slip-sliding away. . . And then, and then. . . after the dot.com bubble had not sustained. . . and when yonder-coming frothy Y2K had done gone down the drain, in the sweet buy and buy, and the scurry sell and sell and what's under the derivatives bell. . . when the froth had gone down the MBS drain, when the CDOs took the last train to clocksville, they said it wasn't like the crash of '29, no, just a blip in wall street time;

 it wasn't worth a dime or even a wooden nickel; 't'was just a wrinkle in time. . . but meanwhile back at the tranche, up on fifth avenue the joker was descending from his glassy tower, the man of fate and power for the hour, spewing spooky spiffs: stand back, stand by, for your piece of insurrection pie, and so, them standby three percent of boys, them oath-bleepers and the proud trumptoys, advancing in the mall, answering the dog-whistle call, insurrecting as the joker's toys, them 0 so proud boys did don their insurrection hoods, as dunces in their joker's game

 against our Constitution game, and did mount up their wing-dings like beagles on the hunt, with nooses hanging loose, for to find VP pence. . . and so they did maraud their way beneath the dome, forcing Jefferson out of his home, electrocuting Franklin's kite with all their gangly might. . . just put your john henry on these 2-century legacies. . . yeah, yeah, I say unto thee. Human folly is overflowing, and I think its going to flood today, or anyway, it may, except . . . this is January. Oh well. . . but that's a deep subject, as deep as the drifting snow. . . you just never know. . . what will happen. Suffice it to say, human folly is overflowing. . . singing folly wolly doodle all the day. And I told him that! Glass half-Fullhttp://www.careyrowland.com

I am, I think

A long, long time ago, the founder of planetary literacy was out in the wilderness, pasturing the flock of his father-in-law.  Moses later reported: "The angel of the Lord appeared in a blazing fire in the midst of a bush; and he looked, and behold, the bush was burning with fire, yet the bush was not consumed." In that unprecedented setting, Moses and the Creator of the universe had a conversation. After receiving an assignment to deliver his people, the Hebrews, out of Egyptian slavery, Moses was seeking a point of clarification when he asked the Lord to identify Himself. "They may say to me, 'what is His name?' What shall I say to them?" God said to Moses, "I AM Who I AM". The encounter was something like that. The Lord's identifying Himself has been reported in various iterations: I AM WHO AM. I am the One who IS, Yahweh, Jehovah, Yahweh, YWHW. So Moses was a prophet in ancient days. Meanwhile, back at the planetary ranch, thousands of years passed. God sent His son, Jesus, whose crucifixion provided an historical platform demonstrating that human Life does indeed survive death itself. Seventeen centuries after Jesus, Rene Descartes was pondering his own existence, trying to figure it out. He came up with a phrase that later set the course of modern philosophy: "I think, therefore I am." Descartes' puzzling about his own existence eventually led to a wider contemplation among men and women about existence itself, a searching that included a school of thinkers whom we call existentialists. "Why am I here? Who am I? What am I supposed to do with this life that was given to me?" As the centuries rolled by, humans became smarter and smarter. Eventually, they figured out ways to have machines do work and thinking for them - to do the heavy lifting of heavy objects in the physical world, and to do the heavy lifting of figuring out a all the other details as well. And now that we've turned so much mental heavy lifting over to the computers, we've reached a stage where the computers are smarter than we are. And furthermore, just as the ancient Hebrews hitched their identity to YWHW, and then later encountered opposition and defeat in a land called Ai, modern humans have encountered unexpected difficulties - even in some cases a formidable resistance - in the field of technology that is called Ai. As we venture further into the 21st century, we are encountering the presence of what may seem to be an alien presence, or entity, as we slouch toward our destiny on this planet. But Ai, a creature of our own making, originated as a tool. Could it be that our created step-child has surpassed us in mastery over the web in which we live and move and have our being? Back in the 1960's, the Moody Blues produced a song that touches on these developments. The song includes Rene Descartes' famous reasoning, but takes it step furthr: "I think. . . I think I am, therefore I am. . .I think." 

The computer replies: "Of course you are, my practical star; it riles them to believe that you perceive the web they weave." Well. . . who is "them" now? people or Ai? And the rest is history, yet to come. . . as we peck away, like ducks waddling through a planetary pond, almost seen. . . and the age-old question persists: Whose in charge here? King of Soul

Mississippi 1950's, where I was living

(excerpt from chapter 4 of

King of Soul)

By 'n by many of the black folks down south, inspired by the legality of recent innovative challenges, got busy as bees while the whites, unfortunately, got mad as hornets. But the times they were sho'nuff a'changin'.

Heretofore, the sleepy ole antebellum way of honky life would lay low and submit to a new master, whose visage was was darker, with features more universal and inclusive, and whose newly renovated integrity would ultimately endow the good old boys and gals with a rectified blend of African charm, and a revolutionary new testament of grace. But the racist honkies had not yet figured this part out, so they were in for a long, hard lesson. Black folks knew the lesson would be hard, because they'd been living it for over 200 years, but it took them awhile to figure just how stubborn and contrary the whites could be when they got that deer-in-the-headlights look in their eyes. But that's neither here nor there. Things got serious after Brother Medgar Evers was assassinated in his own front yard.  King of Soul

Blue Ridge Mountain Home

Well it’s been a quiet week at Appalachian, my chosen home. Long ago and far away, I left Dixie, traipsed out of the hot sunshine and declared my homestead in the high country. Here in the car this evening, traveling with my lifetime mountain home companion, mother of our three young’uns. They’re all grown, up now, having left the nest, flew off to Duke and Carolina. . . flown the coop. We’re driving home from Charlotte, after visiting kin folk in the Queen City where American independence was first declared, back in the day. . . 1775, I think it was. A car dealer on our route displays a super flagpole. Old Glory ripples largely in the evening breeze, assuring us that our flag is still there. We need not ask “Oh say, does that star spangled yet wave in the land of the free and the home of the brave?” In other old news, our North Carolina forests thrive, now in their bare golden winter glory, along these miles between our towns. Cruising Booneward on the highway, we’re slightly enlightened as red sails on the sunset, while gold enlightens the skyline of them there hills, up ahead, glowing brilliantly in the distance as we approach our home in dusky glory. We roll into our little town, where Daniel Boone had stopped for a spell, back in the frontier days, where visitors will visit Mast’s old general store, and they’ll stock up with vittles from Lowe’s pretty good grocery, maybe chomp a donut at the Local Lion, or sip vino at. Venture, on King Street downtown. . . maybe buy a book there too, maybe one of my novels (just sayin’). . . they might even set a spell on ole Mrs. Jones’ front porch and watch the visitors down on King Street. Maybe sit on a bench with local music legend, Doc Watson.

Just a block or two south of King Street, some pioneer, Yosef, started a university back in the day, to enlighten folks in them there Appalachian hills. Nowadays young whipper-snappers come from all over the state, and even from places far away, to learn readin’, writin’ and ‘rithmetic, and maybe a little coding along the way, since now in our 21st-century glory, we’re living in cyberspace. When America was new, and frontier land was free, or so we thought. Eventually, we honkies made peace with the native Cherokee folks and the Chippewas, the Mohicans, Hurons. . . and the rest is history. And so I pause to peck these purloined phrases from old memories of old friends sitting on the porch like bookends. Newspaper blown through the grass, disappears in the web, into cyber space, and falls on the old glows of the high peaks of this old friend’s memories. King of Soul

Greenland Fare Well

When I was a young lad, I'd listen to Judy Collins singing an old song, originally sung in the 1800's, by a Norwegian fisherman Fare well to Tarwathie

When I was a young lad, I'd listen, on the old 33 rpm LP player, to Judy Collins singing

Farewell to Tarwathie, old song, originally sung in the 1800's, by a Norwegian fisherman, Fare well to Tarwathie /media/ff58282818e81c16de4413ef739c9961 The cold land of Greenland is barren and bare; No productivity nor comfort is ever known there. North winds blow freezing; so humans beware! So there’s no sense for donald to blow bluster there. Ya, Denmark and Finland don’t like donald’s grab His covetous clutching’s as stupid as ole Cap’n Ahab. Finland, Norway condemn donald’s presumption Germany, France, reject his art of assumption trump brandishes tariffs like a whaler’s harpoon. he’d slap them on the Euros as if he hung the moon he’s mad at Norway cuz he didn’t get a peace prize. Integrity of the Nobel Committee he doesn’t realize. The cold land of Greenland is barren and bare; No productivity nor comfort is ever known there. North winds blow freezing; so humans beware! So there’s no sense for donald to blow bluster there. Glass half-Full