"Tim Curt Brown" 'Swindler's Symposium Chronicles'

You could not tell surly Tim Curt Brown anything.
For he was in a bad mood that day on the way to Pell City

A group of fledglings set out to surf the skies
For rookies a bold and brave proclivity

Onward east they took, off I-20 St. Clair County they booked
A turn, they did not see the state police hidden in a road side nook.

A burly red neck appeared at the window, asking them for I.D.
Tim Curt could not stomach the moment for all it would be

A glance a comment quickly turned sour
As Tim Curt was asked to step outta the car

What's your name son, examined the cop
It's Tim Curt Brown, I live so and so way past cow pen stop

A moment it took to call the state capital to 
confirm who Tim was and take a look

Say your name and address again son, the rogue belted out
Mr. Brown said Tim Curt, I live on so and so route

There must have been some conjecture about what was said in the past
Because whatever Tim stated was different than the last

With a crinkle and a crackle Tim Curt was led to the city jail in 
in modern day shackles

His friends had fun, and recorded their flight
Ole Tim Curt stayed in a holding cell board stiff almost until night.

His friends bailed him out as he signed the court appointed summons
that he would come to see the judge two months later back in town

He signed the papers as John Charles Brown

*Alright, I think everyone can guess who Tim Curt Brown is.  It is ME!  In the summer of 2006 while living just south of Birmingham, AL. some friends and I set out to go skydiving over in Pell City.  A place twenty miles east of Birmingham that had an air strip.  On the way there I was riding shot gun and we got pulled over by an Alabama state trooper.  I was in a bad mood because of a falling out I had with a corrupt individual at an old job I had, had and had not still dealt with it properly. I did not help matters that my passenger side seat belt would not extrude out of the window.  When the cop pulled us over right as we go near the airport he asked us why we wear not wearing seat belts.  I told him mine did not work.  He asked me to try it again and wouldn't you know in a cruel twist of fate it worked that exact moment and made me look like a complete fool further exacerbating my irritation. I made a comment to the driver about him being a red neck and hearing it he told me to get out of the car and asked if I was high.  In my naive experience with law I did not sense it illegal to give a fake name and address.  I felt like hey, he is a jerk and I will tweek him a bit by playing games.  Well, he caught me giving a fake name and address. He called down to Montgomery and asked if I could be I.D.'d.  He asked me my name and address again and there were some discrepancies between the first and last time. So, there I was in a holding sale for actually those who had been arrested for DUI's since there was no room anywhere else.  I traded stories with a nice man who had been arrested for being falsely accused of harassing some crazy date he had had the night before, although he was officially drunk.  Finally, after my friends had gone sky diving and had a wondrous time filming it and enjoying it I was hit one by a gay black man when I tried to call my parents to come get me.  Of course I flipped him "the bird" and he retaliated by cussing me out.  I never got to go sky diving as I got busy but will try again some time in the future but, I like to think I had my own adventure that day.  From my lawyer to my relatives and former coworkers they love to still call me Tim Curt at times and we all have a good laugh.  Each Christmas my cousin, who has been arrested for a DUI or two compare notes to determine who has the best arrest story.  I tell him mine is dumber as at least he was high.  Anyway that is the legend of......................TIM CURT BROWN

"Ole Lloyd Miller" 'Southern Swindler's Symposium Chronicals

Lloyd was articulate 
Common decency was a toy to play with and circumvent 

Headmaster was his title
He felt like college test scores were his reputation and it's survival

Life would conspire to have his son
Sharing school door halls with him

A boy of languid study, distractions of the extra curricular he'd never shun
He could be found on most afternoons running lose in the gym

Lloyd took liberties with the boy's abilities 
When it came time for the numbers to add up

College came calling, as did the school board, making a principal look silly
A week later, ole Lloyd Miller cleaned out his desk save for a coffee cup

For he was found to be a cheat, his son incredibly a diploma he finally earned
Lloyd Miller was left teaching seventh graders two blocks over with termination papers.......


................HE MOST LIKELY BURNED!

*Piece about a teacher I had in 7th grade in the Gadsden City School system who had once been the principal at the premier high school in our city.  He was fired years before for cooking the books concerning his son's grades and test scores, when his son was a student at the high school he oversaw.   For the life of me I don't know how he even got a job as a 7th grade English Lit teacher but he did.  Yes, he was even a contrite prick as a teacher even after having fallen so far down the educational food chain.  You could tell by his lack of tact and character that those stories of what he had done had to be true.

"Brad Douchery" 'Swindler's Symposium Chronicles'

THERE ONCE WAS A MAN NAMED BRADLY
WHO RAISED MONEY AS A MISSIONARY IN MIAMI

HE WOULD TELL THE WORLD HE NEEDED MONEY....BADLY

THERE ONCE WAS A MAN NAMED TRUTH
WHO RAISED MONEY FOR A MISSION, TO HELP OUT LOCAL MINISTRIES & YOUTH

HE WOULD TELL HIS FRIENDS HE NEEDED MONEY.....BUT DID SO FRIENDLY

THERE ONCE WERE MEN NAMED TRUTH & BRADLY
WHO WORKED TOGETHER TO RAISE MONEY FOR CROOKS, POSING AS CHRISTIAN......
SADLY

THERE ONCE WAS A MAN NAMED BRADLY WHO CHEATED TRUTH
BY CONSPIRING WITH OTHER SWINDLERS, TO REMOVE HIM FROM THE MISSION

THERE ONCE WAS A MAN NAMED TRUTH, MAKING RESPONSIBILITY A COMMISSION
WHO RECTIFIED A WRONG, BY SUPPLYING THE IRS WITH A WHOLE LOT OF PROOF.

*Story about working for a mission organization who turned out to be fund raising hucksters instead of truthful spiritual leaders they claimed to be.  Fundraisers were suppose to take a cut of what they raised for the ministry but if they were moved off of staff the organization got to keep the money due to a non profit tax loop hole produced in 2008. I love writing "personal name" poetry as I call it just like poets did in the 19th century.  Works such as "Richard Cory" by Edwin Arlington Robinson come to mind.

Finding The Purpose In CHRISTmas

If you look up the word Christian in the dictionary, let me know because I never have.  I know this, in our day there are so many people out there claiming they are "Christian" but they act like the worst types of people alive.  I guess it has always been that way.  There are those who are fake.  I guess any social group or construct has it.  I am writing this morning as an apology!

We who call ourselves "Christian" have not done a good job of living up to the value tree we promote.  As a matter of fact, there are so many people in the modern day church who are: condescending, unpleasant, superficial, judgemental, unfriendly, unkind, socially awkward, passive-aggressive, unforgiving, arrogant, dishonest and just emotionally unattractive to be around.  Don't get me started on all of those people who think you have to be a conservative Republican in order to be "right with God" who are so prevalent here in the deep South. Oh, the stories I could share with you over the past two decades being around "Christians."  My mom, being the perpetual teenager concerning news about my personal life would make a statement like, "so you had a date over in Atlanta the other night.  Was she a christian?"  My response was:  "I certainly hope not!"

All kidding aside, I know those of you out there who may be a secularist, humanist, Hinduist or whateverist have a very good reason to reject Christianity.  I don't blame you.  Sometimes when I am around those false people who call themselves "christian," believe me I feel like doing the same thing.  But, I want you to know this.  (1) There are a few truly Christian men and women out there who are not crazy kooks and who actually are a fantastic example of Christ...........(moving point #2 aside by itself because it is just so DARN important)

(2) Christ is absolutely real.  He is not some character in a history book or even the just bible, who does not seem alive.  He definitely does not have an H as a middle name and is much more significant than being used as a swear word.  He is the only founder of a form of worship (I use this instead of religion because I don't like the word, it seems too vague and not dynamic) who died and rose again.  He did so with a purpose.  Sure, everyone reading this now or who has ever been conceived in a womb is a product of an intimate moment their parents had some time before.  But, Christ/God loves you so much He intimately made you from the very moment of conception, EVERY SINGLE PERSON WHO HAS EVER LIVED OR WHO HAS LIVED ONLY TO DIE IN THE WOMB.  Your hair, eye and skin tone and color were specifically designed by Him.  Even your personality and gifts were made by Him.  All those hundreds of ancestors you had, He specifically took specific DNA from them and made you with it, with you uniquely in mind alone.   WOW! Now, that is an example of someone who loves you and desires to be intimate with you.  All you have to do is believe He died for you to heal every hurt, hangup or loss you have ever experienced and name Him Lord or your life. I still struggle with this by the way. 

So my challenge for you is to look past Christianity, Christians and just look at Christ during this time of year, and really every day of the year.  Definitely don't look at me.  Sure, hold me accountable to living out my beliefs. We as Christians are suppose to do that and deserve criticism when we don't. I want Christ to be attractive to you.  But, don't see me as a perfect example of Him.  I WILL FAIL!  But, He never will!  

Back about ten years ago I was into Anne Hathaway movies because I thought she was absolutely adorable.  When you turn on the t.v. you usually see the remake of Get Smart or The Devil Wears Prada.  Being smitten by Anne I would put down the remote and take them in each time one or the other came across my small screen.  There is a scene in The Devil Wears Prada where Anne's character (Andi), nervous and hectic is called back to Miranda Priestly's office (played by Meryl Streep) and is expecting a long laundry list of things to write down and get ready to perform all through her stressed filled day.  She surprisingly hears Miranda run over a short and easy list and say quietly and with a weak directive:  That's all!

With me also - THAT'S ALL 

Merry Christmas and remember the reason for the season. 

JCB

Sleep Hags, Sleep Paralysis & Shadow People (My Personal Testimony)

There are two kinds of people out there.  Those that believe in just the material/physical matter around them, then those who either believe on faith or have actually touched the spiritual world.  I myself, fall into the later population.  Here is my story:

LATE SEPTEMBER 2012 (Indian Springs Village, Shelby County, AL)

Indian Springs Village is a barely incorporated village just south of Birmingham, AL.  Birmingham is our state's largest city and one where most single adults gravitate toward to find a decent job or marriage prospect.  I moved down there in 2001 from my hometown just an hour northeast, to find both of those things.  I yo-yo'd between metro Birmingham and Gadsden, my hometown, 30 miles west of the Georgia state line from 2001 up to 2013.  A friend of mine had needed a renter for his home in suburban Birmingham as he and his new wife were moving to Memphis, TN to take on a job there.  I easily obliged since I had lived there with him during his bachelor days and had remembered incredible times in that house. Although, he did mention a time he had an an issue with "sleep paralysis" one night in the basement in 2006,  to me it was a serene and bucolic set up in the woods of central Alabama.  I place I could pray, read scripture, create art and entertain dates while cooking them dinner.

Late September in Alabama feels really good on the skin.  The humidity seems to vanish and the dry sun for once comes through and warms the spirit as well.  It is a time of emotional rest at least for me.  The hub bub of the summer has melted away. Since no one else co rented with me I had the place all to myself.  It was a one story ranch style home with 3 bedrooms and 2 baths.  It was a lot different than when Andrew, myself and a law student we affectionately called Captain "Chug" the "Buccaneer of Private Beer" lived from 2005-2007.  "Chug" had a way of going into the fridge and drinking everyone else's beer save for his own. I naturally took the master bed room, simply because it had the most amenities, simply because I could. Between four and five o'clock in the morning I looked up and to the front and left of my bed toward the door.  I could not move as I saw this skinny black figure.  Just like everyone else has stated about "sleep hags" shadow people and sleep paralysis it was opaque in feature but took the form of personification.   It was early dawn and some light was coming into the room.  That is what made my particular experience so unique with sleep paralysis.  My former room mate and the home's owner, Andrew, had his experience in the pitch black dark basement well into the 2:00 - 4:00 a.m. range.  Everyone who has testified of having experienced this can say that a person becomes so paralyzed that they cannot even lift their head.  I found this to be true as well. I could not speak, I could only let out a deep sigh from the pits of my lungs.  The black entity moved away from my bed toward my door and hovered for about one second.  In my mind I heard the name of a boy hood friend from Gadsden.  There was no malignant history about the name called.  It was no one deceased or no one I had any ill will toward.  About this time my paralysis was gone and I fully woke up to assess what had just transpired.   I still don't know whether it was my own psyche or the psychological spiritual connection I had with this shadow ghost that brought the name up.  Of course I laughed it off since the name was of a friend who had shown himself to be a real goof ball in our school days and who has still alive.

That's is the great inquiry. Just what was it that I experienced that early fall Sunday morning?  Was it REM sleep gone into over drive?  Was it something akin to what the home's owner had experienced six years earlier just down in the basement? A real malignant pyscho kinetic entity, a negative energy left over from some bad things that had happened in the house years before by former occupants.  Or worse, was a demonic manifestation of some sort of witch craft brought about by former residents.  I personally believe in both types of visitors.  I have always believed in an after life, you bet I believe in a spiritual world.  I even believe animals sense it as well, sometimes more severely than we do.  In September, at a diner in Alexander City, AL. I asked the owner about his experience in the basement that night.  I told my story as well.  We both agreed there must have been some pestilential activity in the home before he bought it in 2005.  It was early evening in that cafeteria just off of US HWY 280. A ball game shown on the t.v. screen as we were still wiping off the sweat of the day down at a college ball game in Auburn.  But a chilling dark entered our core as well.  We both shared the fraternity of experiencing something significant.  The veil between what was material and spiritual had been pulled back for our astonished eyes to see.

* PLEASE VISIT "BRIMSTONE BELOW" (YOU TUBE) FOR MORE AMAZING STORIES LIKE MINE!   SEE: "Truly Creepy Encounters of Night Attacks & Sleep Paralysis"  "Shadow People"
12/6/2018