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Now, let’s see if I can find the verse that I want – the final plague. I think that’s in chapter 16. Yeah, chapter 16 verse 21. This is the final plague. I don’t think it takes a lot of imagination. The only thing that I’m showing that is really supernatural is how the armies of the world will pack into the valleys of Israel. For that, of course, I’m using my own – whatever. The Bible doesn’t just say that, but it certainly is indicative. If God is putting His wrath upon a grape vat, then that means it has to be within an enclosure. What better way to picture an enclosure than a valley? So, that’s where I get my thinking. All right, now look at the final plague.
"And there fell upon men (not grapes) a great hail out of heaven, every stone about the weight of a talent:…" Now, if you’ve got a marginal help in your Bible most of them say the same thing. How much was a talent? Hundred pounds. Hundred pound hail stones. Now, it’s amazing that not too long ago I read, I think it was in our Daily Oklahoman, that there have been miraculous phenomena the last couple of years in various places around the earth; where on a clear day great chunks of ice will just simply fall out of the air. Up to a hundred pounds in weight. So, we’re not stretching anything here. This is already happening in isolated places. All right, one hundred pound hailstones will fall upon these multitudes of men gathered, now, in the valley of Israel, but does it change their thinking? No.
"…and men blasphemed God because of the plague of the hail; for the plague thereof was exceeding great." Well, now earlier in the Tribulation you have the same thing. Back up with me to chapter 9, and this is, again, after listing some of the trumpet judgments, which will be shortly after, I think, the middle of the Tribulation. But see, men don’t change their attitudes toward God. Even after all the severe physical judgments that have come upon the planet, this is the result. Is it a great revival? No.
"Neither repented they of their murders, nor their sorceries, (Pharmacia – Which means drugs. So, it will be a drug culture.) nor of their fornication, (the gross immorality) nor of their thefts." So, all of this judgment from God doesn’t change their thinking or their lifestyle one iota.
All right, I think I’ve got time to show this. Out of that will come a remnant who will become believers. Now, come back with me to chapter 7 and verse 9. This is where I call the fulfillment of the Great Commission of Matthew 28:19 for the nation of Israel. In the midst of all of this wrath and outpouring, God’s 144,000 Jews are going to be proclaiming salvation. Now watch where it goes.
"After this (after the sealing of the 144,000) I beheld, and lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, (Now watch where they come from, and that’s why I call this the fulfilling of the Great Commission. They’re going to come from…) of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, (But, see, they’ve already been martyred. They’re already pictured before the throne. They’re no longer on the planet.) stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands; 10. And cried with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb." So, what’s the picture? That as these 144,000 Jews circumvent the globe preaching the Gospel – not of the Grace of God, but the Gospel of the Kingdom, there are going to multitudes saved, but they’ll be martyred immediately.
The powers that be will know who they are, and they will be able to isolate them. But, they’ll only be a small percentage, as always. Now, that may be a great number. You know, Tim LaHaye, in one of his books, claims that he feels the 144,000 will have more converts in those 3 and Ѕ years than the church has had in 1900. Well, I’m not going to argue the point, but I think it’s a stretch. But there are still going to be a lot of them. But compared to the whole, it is just a small percentage. That’s the way it’s always been. So, they will be martyred just as fast as they profess their faith. But, you see, they can’t kill the 144,000, because they’re sealed with the mark of God.
Nevertheless, this is all indicative of what the world is getting ready for. The more you watch the news, the more you can see that it’s coming, because God’s grace isn’t going to last forever. His patience is going to run out. If I haven’t made any other point today, I hope I make this – don’t blame God. It’s not His fault. It’s because of their constant rejection of His glorious Gospel of the Grace of God, which in a nutshell is, "Believe in your heart for salvation that Jesus died for your sins, was buried, and rose again" as we see so plainly in I Corinthians 15:1-4, plus nothing else.
LESSON THREE * PART IV.
GOD IS NOT BEING UNFAIR.
ISAIAH 62:1 – 64:6.
Again, we’d like to welcome you to an informal Bible study. We just search the Scriptures and compare Scripture with Scripture and let the Scripture do its own work. We do like to thank our television audience for your response. My, our letters are just unbelievable. The hearts and lives that God is transforming from every walk of life imaginable. A gentleman called, he hoped to be here this afternoon and evidently the weather didn’t cooperate. When he first came up and told me how our program had been instrumental in changing his life, he was telling me how bad he was.
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**1/2 – Pitch Perfect – This highly uneven comedy, originally released on pay per view before going on to surprising success in theatres is another in the ‘college competition’ genre which has previously covered cheerleading, fraternity and sorority life and of course sports. Here the battlefield is intercollegiate acapella singing. Capitalizing on the popularity of TV shows like Glee, Smash, and countless signing competitions this seems to have connected with an audience. Australian comic, Rebel Wilson, who came to local fame for her appearance in Bridesmaids, is given the more likable role here as Fat Amy – and she is not without her charm and enthusiasm. Sadly, no one else in this film fares as well, even the usually effective Anna Kendrick who is at a disadvantage here since she plays a largely unlikeable character. In fact, the parade of collegiate stereotypes, nerds and bitches wears out its welcome soon. Despite this, there are some spirited and effective musical numbers and some fine acapella singing — but even that can’t overcome the requisite projectile vomiting. More miss than hit.
**1/2 – Men in Black 3 – I like time travel-premised films that cleverly play with the paradoxes of time travel in satisfying ways. Unfortunately, this film is not one of them. The Time Travel gimmick here serves primarily to give Josh Brolin a chance to give a spot-on Tommy Lee Jones impersonation, as the younger version of Agent K. It also serves as an excuse to interject some fun retro-60s music into the mix. Beyond that, this is more of the cartoonish alien fun that was fresh and original in the original Men in Black, but starts to wear out its welcome here. It’s passable fun, but doesn’t generate any real laughs and the CGI looks, well, very CGI. Emma Thompson is pretty much wasted here, (any British Actress of her age would have done as much with the underwritten part), and Jermaine Clement is unrecognizable and unable to bring much to the generic Boris the Animal character who is a rather dull villain overall. Will Smith, as he ages, may be losing his fun, comic smart-ass sensibility.
** Jack Reacher – I’ve not read the book or books that this mystery thriller featuring vigilante Jack Reacher are based upon — but its got to be pretty pulpy stuff as the dialog and plotting here is pretty melodramatic, far fetched and old school. One thing’s clear, the character whose boots Tom Cruise is trying to fill is a more formidable presence than Mr. Cruise seems equipped to deliver. Miscasting seems to abound here, including the lead actress, Rosamund Pike. The plotting here is extremely far-fetched and action sequences seem to happen just because some action is needed, like the worst of the James Bond movies. People chase one another for no good reason, and no one seems to have a logical reason for any of their actions. There’s nonetheless a few good fight sequences where you suspend disbelief and can delight knowing that Jack Reacher will somehow outperform, out-beat, and out-think his every opponent. So it’s fun to watch this ‘superman’ perform and dispense justice. The brutal street fighting is the best feature of the movie, and is helped by good fight choreography instead of chaotic editing. It does however, look a bit silly that short, still-boyish Tom Cruise is such an imposing, terrifying and intimidating presence. He gives a humorless performance in a movie that takes itself too seriously while being unable to avoid the sometimes laughable dialog. Only Werner Herzog, with his scary germanic accent seems to fit in here. The plot twists are fairly obvious (I was always steps ahead of the movie), so the vengeance and come-uppance delivered by this avenging angel is all that keeps the film together and provides its occasional pleasures.
** Not Fade Away – I was very excited that a wonderful writer like David Chase (the creator of The Sopranos), would choose to make his first feature film as director and writer about growing up in the 60s, a passion for music, and the desire to form a band. Sad to say that despite my interest and passion for all of the above, the film falls far short of my expectations. Its a rather moody, dispirited tale of a NY teen who aspires to get a recording contract with his local band made up of his buddies — but never achieves it. Drenched in nostalgia for the period, (and a comprehensive period soundtrack compiled by Stevie Van Zandt), this feels more like a personal recollection for Chase — far more emotionally resonant for him, than for the audience. I didn’t wind up caring about any of the characters, and nothing of consequence happens to them. Afraid this turned out to be a bit of a yawn.
** Snow White and the Huntsmen – A rather grim, fairy tale with not a hint of joy or fun in it. Kristin Stewart doesn’t make much of an impression as Snow White, and the Huntsmen wasn’t very appealing either. Only Charlize Theron registers at all here, and she’s got little to do except play ‘evil’. She is beautiful though – whether young or aged. This is what Lord of the Rings might be like it it was in lesser hands — sort of a medieval bore with very unspecial effects. As i watched the credits, I saw a lot of surprising names — Bob Hoskins, Toby Jones, and Ian McShane — and my word — none of them made the least impression in this film. What a waste of talent. Neither exciting, romantic, or scary — it only works as a bedtime story — sort of put me to sleep!
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Passing Through: Allen Ginsberg & Peter Orlovsky in Copenhagen, January 1983.
As part of their reading tour through a dozen European countries, poets Allen Ginsberg and Peter Orlovsky, and their musical accompanist Steven Taylor, arrive by train in Copenhagen in the chill dark of an afternoon in early January of 1983. Birgit and I welcome them with red tulips and after shaking hands help them to carry their baggage from the platform upstairs and through the station to a taxi.
Allen is hatless, bespectacled and balding in a coat and muffler. Beneath his coat he wears a tweed jacket and sports a flowered necktie. His forehead is furrowed, his graying beard neatly trimmed, his right eyelid and lip drooping with a palsy with which he had lately been afflicted. Peter – despite the winter cold – is dressed in a yellow t-shirt emblazoned with the Naropa Institute logo and light cotton trousers. His feet are bare in a pair of flip-flops, his abundant graying light-brown hair worn in a long ponytail. His arms are muscular, his belly prominent. Allen says that they have come up in the train from Holland, haven’t slept, and are very tired. They are going to be interviewed by a reporter from the Danish newspaper Politiken at their hotel and then in only a few hours hold their scheduled reading.
Peter walks the platform in a curious, crouching fashion, grimacing, groaning, grunting, but in a hoarse voice he politely inquires as to where I am from and what I do. We struggle together up the stairs to the main floor of the station bearing a large and very heavy cylindrical cloth bag. When we reach the top of the stairs, Peter suddenly lifts the bag in one hand and to the astonishment of onlookers begins to spin with it, pirouetting around and around across the floor of the railway station. From the outset, there is something in Peter’s manner and behaviour that calls to mind the figure of Kaspar Hauser, an innocent abroad in a harsh and sordid world.
The reading is scheduled to be held in Huset (The House), a hip cultural center established in a former factory. A venue for music, theatre and other performances, Huset also contains a natural foods restaurant and a cinema. This evening there is an unforeseen problem. Shortly after Birgit and I arrive to claim our tickets and gain admittance to the reading, the entrance to Huset is blockaded by members of the Youth Club Personnel Union in protest at some grievance. The picket line (a solid phalanx of young people) is physically denying entrance to Huset to any and all patrons. (This despite the fact that the personnel who work in Huset have voted not to support the strike.)
When I catch sight of Peter, Allen and Steven in a hallway of Huset, I apprise them of the situation. Allen is thoughtful, not wishing to violate a picket line but not wishing either to disappoint those patrons who have come to hear them perform. We ascend together in an elevator to the room where the reading is to be held, a cafe with a small raised wooden stage. As Allen enters the room, there is applause from the approximately fifty guests who (like Birgit and me) arrived before the picket line was established. Before Allen can speak, though, a tall, thin young man with a sparse, scraggly beard and a shaven skull stands directly in front of him, raises his arm in a Nazi salute and shouts: “Heil Hitler!” Allen calmly ignores him and addresses the audience. “There is the question of the picket line to be considered,” he says. He offers to go down to the entrance, attempt to reason with the pickets, and failing to persuade them to alter their course, he will deliver a brief reading for the congregation of about 150 aspiring, frustrated patrons who are waiting there in the winter cold. (Meanwhile, the madman continues to yell: “Heil Hitler!”) The audience encourages Ginsberg to do this and he leaves the room.
Orlovsky remains, still dressed in his Naropa t-shirt, and now with a blue denim cap on his head. He paces barefooted and stiff-legged around the room, grunting and groaning. He dances on tiptoe, he approaches an elderly man seated at a table, shakes his hand and kisses it. He begins to brush his teeth, then brushes his long hair. He picks up a brass megaphone, balances it on one hand, holds it in his mouth by the handle, places it on his crotch like a giant erection, falls to the stage, pretending to writhe in ecstasy. He uses it as a telescope surveying the room, then employs it to amplify a series of animal noises: a dog barking, a rooster crowing. The audience cackles at these madcap antics. Peter kisses the wall, grows ever more passionate in his kisses, pats it, humps it. He lights a cigarette, resumes brushing his teeth, takes a swig from a bottle of Carlsberg. He then begins to wipe the stage curtains with a paper tissue. Meanwhile, Steven Taylor, a bespectacled, sensitive and intelligent looking young man, unpacks a guitar and begins to strum classical chords.
At length, Allen returns to the stage, explaining that everyone, including the pickets, has been invited up to the reading, but the pickets have not accepted that solution, so there’s no more to be done. He unpacks his portable, hand-pumped harmonium and begins to chant in a baritone voice: Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh. The chant rises and falls in the room, expressive of an infinite sorrow, an infinite longing for solace and refuge. He is joined in his chant by a suddenly serious Peter Orlovsky and by Steven Taylor who plays guitar chords behind the drone of the harmonium. The chant finished, Allen opens a black binder and reads “Birdbrain,” a serio-comic poem condemning and lamenting the myriad manifestations of human selfishness and folly. The microphone is not working so he shouts the poem. The madman continues to shout at intervals and to applaud at incongruous moments. In response, Allen improvises lines incorporating the poor obnoxious man into the poem: “Birdbrain applauds at the wrong time.” He also alludes spontaneously to Peter now yodelling alone somewhere in the distance beyond the room: “Birdbrain yodels in the corridors of the Huset.” And he mocks his own reading of the poem: “Birdbrain keeps reading his poem no matter what interruptions there are.”