For MEB. Happy Valentine's Day, named of course for St. Valentine, who we don't actually have much of a story about that's agreed upon, if I like the one of English medieval lore about marrying Christians, which of course maybe had its origin in turn about the martyr who restored sight in a young girl before he gave his life, in the spirit of John 15:13:

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."

As to the story of the worthless coin that is my most valued possession, which is an extended repost of something I deleted in protest about editorial policies here, which was really kind of silly on my part, as people do what they will do, but, in the original post, I left out some things that I think are important, if one thing was left out because it hadn't happened yet.

Back in April, I decided that I had to come home from Boston, as it didn't work out the way that I had hoped, as the writing didn't take off the way that it needed too as an economic proposition, which was the point of all the effort. I was a published author and someone with a predictive track record in certain fields as to editorial decisions.... but, that's life too.

It was, per the story of the infinitely to me valuable worthless coin, a little odd as to the time that I chose, April 27, to do that, without knowing what had happened.

What had happened of course being that there was the massive tornado sequence in Alabama, to where I was going home, if it scared me at the time, as it would most people I think, atheist or not.

Now I know at least that I'm not a jinx, although we'll get to that in a minute.

These things happen too, and, its really what the person draws from it, which to me is the enduring value of a simple faith that if you try to be a good person, and work hard, things will turn out ok, in the end, in the way that God has planned for you, which might well not be your plan, but its His Universe, not Ours.

If you see what a tornado does, cutting trees like with a scythe, you understand that, if as a species, we don't seem to learn that without periodic reminders.

Again, I told this story about the worthless coin that is my most valuable possession on the afternoon of January 23, but a kind of bowlderized version of it, and posted it before the last part of this post, since that hadn't happened when I wrote it.

I bowlderized it so as to not offend someone I like, and I don't think he's the bad guy in this at all anyway the more I thought about it, as everything has a cause, if not always really knowable in the exact form we would like.

As to the worthless coin that is now my most valuable possession, I had gone hiking with a friend named Rawlins out to a religious camp off of I-20 east of Birmingham.

We hiked with his wonderful dog Melvin up a sequence of sandstone slabs to an overlook with a group of Iron Crosses on it.That's one version of a cross, and there are many, like the one on the Alabama flag, the Cross of St. Andrews.

It was neat to watch the hawks soar in the air over an Alabama hill, looking for rabbits and playing probably too, talking with Rawlins about how good the football team was going to be, in what is in itself a very good memory of a nice hike with Rawlins, when I found a worthless coin there, worthless, and yet priceless too.

It's a stupid corny coin in one sense, and yet very much not I think, that someone had left, it seemed pretty obvious to me at least, for someone else who needed to find it in some sense with the following corny mottos:

Side One: America, Land of the Free, Only so long as its the home of the Brave.

Its a corny slogan, but its also very true, since if we weren't brave, Russia and/or China would nukes some of us in five seconds, and then we'd have to risk a lot more of us being nuked to be free, or, we'd have to surrender, and hope for the best with the Russians and Chinese as to our freedom.

As to the worthless coin that is my most valuable possession, Side Two:

"God so Loved the World He gave his only begotten Son, So that whoseover believeth in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life:" John 3:16.

Now, I can't convince any person, and I certainly wouldn't do more than point it out rarely and only in a non-pushy kind of way in my belief that the flip side of the coin is also true, although I know it is true for my own satisfaction, if of course that's a lot more controversial too as to any involvement in politics.

I think the controversy over religion and politics lately is maybe because we're actually less hypocritical as to religion than we used to be, as there were always lots of people who went through the motions in the "good old days" but didn't really believe at all, the lesser amount of hypocrisy also however maybe losing the benefits of hypocrisy identified by La Rochefoucauld a long time ago:

"Hypocrisy is the tribute that vice pays to virtue."

I always took the point of view that what he was really gettting at as to the seemingly odd tie of hypocricy, vice, and virtue was that yes, we are hypocritical with respect to any moral standard, because we all sin, but that's exactly why we have moral standards, to prevent total anarchy, like the Fixed Point argument in the Super Bowl ad, which is also a fundamental mathematical notion of system stability.

Even the supposed atheist Voltaire noted implicitly in The Candide that we seem to end up with the notion of sin when we think about such things, maybe if only so we don't run amok and kill ourselves as a species, but I think its not just that too.

So, what about the coin?

The long and the short of it is as to part of what I left out, is that I became homeless about two weeks later after finding the coin on the top of a mountain in Alabama after deciding to come home on the day of the worst tornado storm in Alabama history without knowing it, homeless granted due to a weird conjunction of events.

I was still working too, just not at enough hours/dollars to recover from being unexpectedly pitched into the streets by an informal landlord, not initially changing work or getting another job on top of that first one due to a decision to make one last really committed push with my writing, if that's really a complicated sort of Alabama kind of thing too, and not that big a deal in the long run, as the species is far more adaptable than you would think, if it does strain your mental capacity too being homeless.

Funnily enough, per the point of the coin story, there was a piece that I wrote while homeless that in spite of the editors here never allowing the blog to be picked for an EP, vital to my strategy of getting certain views heard, and in spite of the fact that I was a published author, one piece did go viral at 171,000 views: The History of In God We Trust, Not that Anyone on OS cares.

That piece was an angry response to an EP on that topic that was an outright misrepresentation, to be very charitable, of the history of that motto, as to why I think at some level things happen for a reason, if maybe sort of a mysterious one in the end too.

I actually think that's pretty funny, as I was telling myself , "You really need to get out of the house, I mean office," the office doubling as house, but that I still could point out to people, "Hey, check out how many views that piece got." Ah, one penny per view, and I would have been fine.

And people always said I wasn't committed enough to my work; if nothing else, I proved that idea incorrect to my total satisfaction, and then people as usual make what choices as to what policy positions they want to listen to or not, per the vast majority of material put forward here.

As to how I became homeless, but having a very valuable coin, if one that is worthless in a material sense, I was working, but business where I was working was such that I couldn't pay the informal rent enough to satisfy what the informal landlord wanted, and so he threw me out last October.

Fundamentally it was just as my fault for thinking that this blog would be how I made it economically as a writer with the 4,000 hours of reading that went into it, and the living expenses that went into that too, six hours a day six days a week for two years, but then academics had  banished me in spite of the predictive track record, as did your government, truth be told, and so that was the last chance at certain applications of knowledge, but that's life.

That's life, a box of chocolates as a wise if fictional Alabamian once said.

I lived in the office where I worked for two months, but that understandably grew on my employer's nerves, and it was really very, very generous of him to allow me to do so at all.

Then it was a combination of the streets and the Jimmy Hale Mission, mainly because if you haven't been homeless before, it is something of a mental shock as to figuring out what to do at first, and a very big one actually.

You adapt too, but I wouldn't ever make light of the idea of literally just putting people out on the streets without at least a lot of thought going into it, as it is a weird, weird experience, and rather scary for a lot of different reasons.

http://www.jimmiehalemission.com/

They do good very good work there, and I am very thankful for their assistance, which people in Birmingham have supported for a long time, for good reason, as there are lots of ways for that to happen as to needing their assistance, and they help people get out of that, which often has a weird mixture of elements going into to it.

In any event, as to the story of how a worthless coin became my most valuable possession, Rawlins later very kindly invited me to a party at David Flannery's that Saturday right when the coin story I think is interesting.

As to the social life of homeless people, its a pretty weird feeling to work during the week, and then sleep under awnings to avoid the rain, the latter to save on days at the Mission, as you can't go there without consequence as to time limits if its above 43 degrees, and then on the weekend go to a party where you pretend you're a normal middle class person.

Obviously I needed to stop the writing earlier, but, maybe not quite yet.

If you've done it by the way, you understand the street people, some of whom I know now something in whom just snapped in as to having to survive on the streets, and then, they just don't come back, substance abuse or not. They are just at one with the streets as to being survivors, if their eyes have a PTSD look sometimes too. They can be funnily generous too, like with the man who gave me a cracker last night, very Fisher King.

When you're on the streets at night, you start turning on certain survival mechanisms, and watch out as to that person ever really being the same again, or sane: "Cardboard box, awnings, dumpster... armored car not good idea if tempting, etc..."" isn't really a good idea to tempt fate for people to have to experience, if, some people should give up on certain dreams, like me with the writing, although no one can ever say that I didn't try hard enough now either, which in itself is a form of peace of mind that can never ever be taken away from me.

That whole time I kept on holding that coin to remind myself that things could be worse, and to endure, because even living in an office is really depressing sometimes if you ever had a family before, for example, and that's every day of your life, which most people you know who have families of their own can't reallly relate to, as to this deep hurt inside that you pretend isn't there, or otherwise, you would jump off a bridge ten times a day, but you can't do that, but just have to have faith that there is a reason that God has for you to experience everything that you do, like it or not, especially when it feels like Job.

As to the party that Saturday, of course I didn't make any real effort to meet a girl at the party, since what could I say:

"Would you like to come back to my carpet that I wrap myself up in while I lay on top of the carboard box and the doormat to insulate me from the ground? Didn't think so."

So anyway, that Sunday morning, January 23, I woke up wet and cold, as the carpet had condensed a lot of moisture, and went to church at the Methodist Church in Avondale.

Homeless people often spend a lot of time in church, as its warm, social, and there's often a little food, if its usually a little difficult putting together your Sunday best, although there is a lovely United Church of Christ on Southside at Sixth Avenue that was very kind one day too.

It's a new church, and hyperliberal as to being accepting of say gays, and is trying to get blacks and Hispanics, and I really wish them well, as in their way, when you haven't talked to anyone for about 36 hours, and just read your mathematics texts for what's next, and slept in carpet on a mat for Friday and Saturday's entertainment, they were as good as Christians as any I've met.

What thou do unto the least of me thou do unto me they live by pretty darn well, as of course do the people who do the work of the Jimmy Hale Mission. If anyone wants to ever make a donation to a good cause in Alabama, that's a good one, as of course is the Alabama Red Cross for Tornado Relief.

In any event, it was such a nice feeling that Sunday January 23, 2012 to be in an Alabama Methodist Church in Avondale, like in Homewood at Trinity, the church I grew up in, and went to services with long afterwards with Butch, if not as much as I wished, although when I did I was always glad, since I did get to see the family that semi-adopted me when I was nine to fourteen, to give "Big Sister" Peggy the "Little Brother" the youngest of five siblings always wanted to have.

Ah, the Stabler family, folks from itty bitty Ft. Deposit Alabama, Lem a veteran of WWII after he lied about his age, and like my unlce Don said at my grandmother Coff's funeral who were "just so warm, salt of the earth." 

In any event, as to that January 23, there happened to be a Methodist bishop speaking there that day in Avondale, and while I was drying out in the nice warm church, feeling somewhat conspicuous if not too much so, since people were very friendly as is the Alabama way, the Bishop got up to speak about Christianity in an ecumemical world, and lo and behold, the first thing he said was:

"If there's anything that is just a simple statement of Christiantity, its this:

"For God so loved the world, He gave His only begotten Son so that whoseover believeth in Him shall not perish but have eternal life."

I will say that I had chills down my spine as I held that coin out right there, just staring at it in rapt attention.

He went on to talk about how Christianity is about love, not about hate, in the context of Muslims especially, many of whom he expressed respect for what I think too.

He expressed respect in the sense of many Mulsims actually acting a lot nicer and more like Christians than a lot of supposed American Christians lately, even though he also said that no one was scarier in his experience than the atheists who run many places in Academia.

The Bishop also made a very good and important point that the real original debate in Christianity was why anyone other than Jews should be allowed to be Christians, and that it was Jews who in effect invited Christians into the Christian Church, not vice versa, as to the important, and welcome, and central, and special, place of the Jewish people in the grand scheme of tolerance that he was espousing, and which I believed was always Methodist doctrine in such things.

I think he's right that some of the more militant of the atheistic types of the neo-communist Left and the more subtle but totally real and therefore really super dangerous neo-fascists of the right, and also capitalists when they forget about God, all are in grave danger of worshipping false Gods, in the sense that its a very different thing to apply what I think is our God-given reason to understanding the world around us the best that we can than to totally deny the existence of God at all. That doesn't make atheists bad people at all, as I'm sure the Bishop would have said the same thing, that there's plenty of atheists who act mroe Christian than some Christians, if it does mean that if they start to act like Gods themselves, watch out historically speaking per both fascism and communism, and also I think certain versions of gloryfying captialism beyond all bounds of human compassion too.

It seems to me pretty obvious that Babel and the Golden Calf were put in the Bible for a reason as to how the world really works if we get too uppity and forget about our Creator.

In any event, after a very moving experience in the church, especially a lovely solo, and always with the Methodists the pipe organ version of my childhood favorite, The Doxology, I went to the library for a while still humming:

At the library after church, I confess to pigging out on popcorn at the afternoon movie, since I was very  hungry, and had while watching The Seven Per Cent Solution so many happy memories of the good part of Alabama in me, which I always felt was the Christian part of my life at Trinity in Homewood, and at Troop 96 in Scouts, and the non-decadent part of my time in Mtn. Brook, like hiking with Rawlins and Lee or climbing with Derek and Scott to see His Creation, and all rather corny and definitely in my case not a small amount of hypocrisy, but still good stuff as to the better part of me.

That afternoon I then wrote a piece about that experience of the worthless coin that became my most valuable possession, if not with the homeless part, since I didn't want to offend my employer, whose fault this was not, but just one of those things really.

In any event, that January 23, I had to leave the library at closing, and went to the McDonald's for a while near St. Vincent's, for the heat and dryness, and then the rains started coming down hard, and the McDonald's of course one can't stay in forever, since they figure it out pretty quickly.

I went to sleep in my mother's yellow van at her store, if it was unlocked, but for which she's the kind of person who I didn't think would probably mind that much under those circumstances, when at about three in the morning, I was awakened by storm sirens, warning of tornados.

"Whoo! Whoo! Whoo!"

At three in the morning, when it was just a deafening sound of end of the world loud sirens right near where you are, and you're thinking, "The day you decided to come home was April 27, and now again?"

Its a weird feeling to be in a car like that, with the wind really, really lashing the ceiling, and basically knowing that you really may not be in a good place, but then, I had the coin.

I'm really, really sorry that the storm later touched down and killed some people a little bit down the road in Center Point, but then maybe that's why I was supposed to write this, so that someone who lost someone would read it, and see that if we have faith in God's purposes, things turn out alright.

I read the insignia as the storm was passing over, about being brave on one side, and believing in Christ on the other, and just went back to sleep, since I had with me my most valuable possession, a worthless coin that provided a lot of comfort as to what it a good motto I think.

America, Land of the Free, Only So Long as it is the Home of the Brave.

God So Loved the World that He Gave His Only Begotten Son So that Whoseover Believeth in Him Shall Not Perish,  But Have Eternal Life.

As to the writing and not being homeless much longer, I'll always do that writing, but, I did always do certain things in applied mathematics for a reason too, and I know now in a way that I never did before that things will work out just fine in the end, as long as I  am sufficiently brave, and remember whose in charge.

finis