Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude
Where Great Intelligence Goes To Be Insulted

Monday, 19 April 2021

A Spring Walk, A Creek, A Stone And A Hate Crime

 I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morn and decided to go out for a walk. It's not cold but chilly, an odd time a year when you can walk in your shorts but need a parka and a hat or toque. It'll warm up later today. Macey flat out refused to go. I tried to make her come but she wanted to be with her mom and that's fine too. Mort and I plodded out on our own.

We went for a longer walk than usual, down a back path that runs along a sculpted, landscaped creek in the Nob Neighbourhood. Follow it down far enough and it goes to one of those artificial lakes or sloughs that the high rollers can call 'a natural area'. It's full of ducks and geese so I guess it will do for them. It was a beautiful morn to be out. The only others out that early were some ambitious joggers and some other incontinent old buggers like me that had pooped the bed.

As we walked, I watched the water run in the creek for the first time this year. The creek had been frozen since last year and the running water was like music to the ear. As we walked, I spied a rock - carefully positioned on top of another bigger stone. It had the rainbow painted on it, with a big heart in the middle. I stopped to ponder it. Probably made by some happy, goofy kid who knew only what his elders were teaching him or her. I thought about the innocence of that poor kid, and the foulness of our educators that fill their heads with the crap that goes along with that rainbow flag. We started to move on, and I thought back to my own militant lesbian daughter, and her lunatic girlfriend... and sorrow came over me in a wave. I stopped, turned around, walked back and kicked that fucking rock out into the shallow creek with my boot. It landed face-down further out, and looked for all the world like just another stone... And the wave of sorrow and remorse swept over me for a moment more. I felt bad about my daughter, and about this poor child being indoctrinated with the same crap, and about kicking their well meant art project out into the creek. The kids don't know any better. I thought about all the heartache and anger and hatred the rainbow folk bring upon themselves and induce in others.

At least the stone is contributing to the tranquility of the setting now, causing the water to lap and burble around it as it meanders in search of its own level and rest. Perhaps I made that stone like me - standing in the middle of a stream while lunacy and degeneracy flowed around and all about? Water eventually erodes stone, given time...

I've always held that God never talks to me. I can see His works and feel His presence and that is pretty much where our relationship starts and stops. But when I gave that stone a random kick and sent it sailing out into the rocky creek ... it could have landed face up, with the rainbow side showing. Or maybe on it's side. But it landed firmly and finally - flag side down. 

I wonder if Somebody didn't give me a bit of a hand with the punt? Bah - I am sure our Maker has better things to do than walk with some surly old bugger and his idiot dawg in the morning as he grumps at the world... but I feel rather bad about the whole thing. 

It is not the right way to start the day. 


  1. Just as homosexuals "redefined" "gay," they redefined the symbol of God's covenant with Noah. As for me; I would have done the same thing to that rock!

    God does talk to us, Glen. If you seek God's voice, you'll hear it. Don't expect the Hollywood version though. God's voice is in the whisper...

  2. Water is the ultimate solvent, and by the time that rock gets turned over again, whether next year or a hundred years from now, the paint will be long gone.
    In cleaning out old drawers and moving, I came across a pair of suspenders in vivid rainbow colors. In very nice condition, but I realized that I would never wear it, and not wanting some fruitcake to find it in a thrift store, I did not put it in the donation clothing bag but sent it to the landfill in the trash. Much the same as the rock on your walk. I'm still steamed about the ruination of the word "gay" sometime in the '60's or '70's. Prior to that it was a perfectly good word.
    So from one cranky old grump to another, thanks for stating your case in such elegant prose.

  3. Thanks for sharing. These posts ripple out further than you may think. . . .

  4. Nope, God delights in walking with his people. Ask Adam, ask Enoch. And as far as listening to God? He gave us His Word. It's the second half of the conversation... pray and read, read and pray... back and forth the conversation goes...

  5. I try not to be bitter about bridges long since burned, fellas. It can be a real challenge sometimes. I learned a new term today: “troon”.

    A troon is a sexual degenerate, usually a woman but not always - that lives exclusively for their perversion. Their world revolves around it, and everyone must see it, celebrate it and take part. I think it is time to take back some words the lunatics have stolen, and leave them more comical terms to deal with.

    Thanks for stopping in fellas.

  6. That soft burble of water over rock is one of the best sounds in life. I spent many, many days on trout streams growing up and everyone of them has that music as a background. Early May dawn sunrise, a bit of fog coming off the pools, that burble and the entire universe was in order. Awright, quit dawdlin’...get strung up. There’s browns to be chased!

  7. There's not a doubt in my mind that the Lord gave that stone a little help - but you gave it the boot, and you did so for all the right reasons.

    Good job, Glen. Keep up the good work.