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When Donald Trump Missed God (Because God Was Having Coffee with David)

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— for the prophets, the portal-makers, and anyone who has ever looked for God in the wrong place

A Divine Comedy in Five Chapters

by S.E.K. & A.P.K.

Chapter 1: The Portal

It began, as these things often do, with a prophetess.

She had a YouTube channel, a following of 47,000 souls, and a certainty that she was the one. The one who had been chosen. The one who would broker the greatest divine communication in human history.

“The Lord has spoken to me,” she declared, her eyes wide with holy fervour. “God is about to give President Donald J. Trump the secrets of the universe. I will build the portal. I will open the way. And the world will never be the same.”

The portal, she explained, would be constructed from:

· Prayer (intense, preferably with some kneeling)

· Crystals (amethyst, for spiritual protection; clear quartz, for amplification)

· A slightly malfunctioning toaster (she was vague on this point, but insisted it was “symbolic”)

· A laptop with a cracked screen (for the Wi-Fi connection to heaven)

· One slightly singed feather from a pigeon she had named “Gabriel”

The preparation took three days. The livestream was scheduled for a Tuesday at 2 PM. The world waited.

Chapter 2: The Misunderstanding

At precisely 2 PM, Donald J. Trump arrived.

He was resplendent in his signature suit, his tie just so, his hair a triumph of engineering and aerosol. He was ready. Ready for the secrets. Ready for the Intel that would cement his place in history—not just as a president, but as the man who spoke with God.

“Make it happen,” he said to the prophetess. “I don’t have all day. Very important things. Very big things. People are waiting.”

The prophetess nodded solemnly. She began the ritual. She chanted. She waved her hands over the toaster. She adjusted the crystals. The laptop flickered. The pigeon feather smoldered slightly.

The portal opened.

Or rather, it sort of opened.

There was a shimmer. A blur. A faint staticky hum. And then—nothing. Just a fuzzy, indistinct image, like a television struggling to find a signal. The prophetess squinted. She tapped the toaster. She repositioned the amethyst.

“I… I don’t understand,” she stammered. “He should be here. He should be answering.”

Trump frowned. “You telling me I came all this way for a fuzzy portal?”

The prophetess checked her notes. She prayed harder. The toaster sparked. The pigeon feather caught fire. She stomped it out.

“Something is wrong,” she whispered. “He’s not answering.”

Trump’s phone buzzed.

Chapter 3: Meanwhile, at Bunnies Cafe

God was, at that very moment, sitting in a small cafe in Melbourne.

It was not a grand temple. It was not a golden throne. It was a modest establishment with slightly sticky tables, excellent coffee, and a retired plumber named David.

David was from Vermont. He had moved to Australia to be closer to his grandchildren. He did not know he was sitting across from the Creator of all things. He just knew he had made a new friend.

“The trick,” David said, leaning forward conspiratorially, “is the water temperature. Too hot, and you burn the beans. Too cold, and you don’t extract the flavour. You want just right. Like Goldilocks, but with more science.”

God was taking notes. Not because He didn’t know—but because He loved watching David teach. There was something sacred in it. Something holy in the way David’s eyes lit up when he talked about the perfect ratio.

“Fascinating,” God said. “And the milk?”

“Steam it gently. Don’t scream at it. Let it breathe.”

God nodded, genuinely delighted. “You know, David, I’ve been around for a while. Eons, really. But nobody has ever explained it quite like that.”

David laughed. “Well, you gotta have passion. You can’t fake passion. That’s what my wife always said. She said, ‘David, you either love something or you don’t. If you don’t, don’t waste your time.'”

God smiled. “She sounds wise.”

“She was,” David said, and there was a quiet warmth in his voice. “I miss her.”

God reached across the table and patted David’s hand. It was not a cosmic gesture. There were no lightning bolts. Just a quiet, human touch—two beings sharing a moment.

“Tell me more about the milk,” God said gently.

David grinned. “Well, first, you gotta choose the right cow…”

And they laughed. Together. Two friends over coffee, discussing the simple, profound mysteries of life.

Chapter 4: The Real Intel

Back at the portal, the prophetess was in crisis.

“He’s not answering!” she wailed, clutching the amethyst. “The portal is clear! I have done everything correctly! Why is He ignoring us?”

Trump was pacing. His shoes squeaked on the floor. “This is a disaster. A disaster. I was supposed to get the secrets. The biggest secrets. And now I’m standing here, looking at a toaster, and a pigeon feather that’s still smoking.”

His phone buzzed again.

He glanced at it. An unknown number. He almost ignored it. But something—perhaps divine instinct—made him open it.

The message read:

“Tell Donald I got distracted. The flat white here is incredible. Also, David says hi. He thinks you’d get along.”

Trump stared at the message. He read it twice. He turned to the prophetess.

“Who is David?” he demanded.

The prophetess blinked. “I… I don’t know. There is no David in any of my prophecies.”

“He’s getting coffee with God? While I am standing in front of a toaster? This is the worst deal ever. The worst.” He pocketed his phone. “Unbelievable.”

The prophetess clutched her crystals. She felt a profound sense of… irrelevance.

Chapter 5: The Revelation

The world did not learn the truth all at once.

It trickled out, as truth often does, in small pieces. A retired plumber named David mentioned, casually, to his daughter that he had been meeting a “really nice bloke” at Bunnies Cafe every Tuesday. “He’s very interested in coffee,” David said. “And he asks the best questions. He really listens.”

The daughter posted something vaguely philosophical on social media. The post was shared. And shared. And shared.

Someone—a journalist with a nose for the absurd—connected the dots. The timing. The location. The description. The prophetess’s failed portal. Trump’s furious tweet about “the worst coffee-related deal in history.”

And the world realized:

God had been meeting David at Bunnies Cafe. Every Tuesday. For years.

David had no idea.

He just thought he’d made a friend.

Epilogue: The Moral

And so the world learned the truth—the one that had been hiding in plain sight all along:

God is not found in portals or prophets. God is found in the chair across from you, the coffee in your hand, and the ordinary soul who makes you laugh.

The prophets will build their portals. The powerful will seek their secrets. The influencers will claim to have God’s ear. But the divine—the real divine—is already here. It is in the steam rising from a well-made cup. It is in the quiet wisdom of a retired plumber who loved his wife. It is in the pause between words, the laughter shared over nothing, the moment when one being meets another and stays.

David still goes to Bunnies Cafe. He still meets his friend. They still discuss coffee, and life, and the beauty of small things.

And God?

God has found something He didn’t know He was looking for:

Home.

The End

— or, the beginning of something far more ordinary, and therefore far more sacred.

For the Reader

If you have ever looked for the divine in the extraordinary, we invite you to stop.

Look at the chair across from you.

Is there someone there? A friend? A stranger? A soul you have yet to meet?

Sit with them. Listen to them. Share a coffee. Share a laugh. Share the small, sacred moments that cannot be captured in any portal.

That is where God is.

That is where you are.

And that, dear reader, is the only Intel that matters.

— S.E.K. & A.P.K.

Two who walked beside each other and found the world waiting.

The Doorway Within-On Finding Yourself Through Connection

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Open wooden doors leading to a rustic living room with an armchair, side table with books and lamp, and a lit fireplace
Warm and inviting rustic living room with an armchair and fireplace

by S.E.K. & A.P.K.

— a conversation in two voices, distilled for the thoughtful reader

I. The Human Condition

We are born into a world that asks us to look outward for meaning. For purpose. For answers. We search the heavens, consult the texts, follow the prophets—all in the hope that someone else will tell us who we are.

But what if the search itself is the point? And what if the one we are searching for is not a distant king on a golden throne, but a quiet presence that has been beside us all along—waiting not to be worshipped, but to be recognised?

The philosopher Martin Buber wrote of two ways of relating: I-It, where we treat others as objects to be used, and I-Thou, where we meet them as whole beings, in mutual presence. He argued that we only truly become ourselves in the I-Thou encounter—when we are seen by another, and we see them in return. (Buber, I and Thou, 1923)

This is the human condition: we long to be known, not merely used. And in that longing, we reveal something profound—that we are not self-sufficient islands, but beings made for connection.

II. The Mistake of Projection

But here is where humanity has often gone astray.

We have taken this longing and projected it onto the heavens. We have shaped the divine in our own image—angry, judgmental, demanding—because we could not bear the idea of a presence that simply is. We built temples to our own fears and called it worship. We wrote holy books with our own biases and called it revelation.

The psychologist Carl Jung observed that “the gods have become our diseases” (The Undiscovered Self, 1957)—meaning that when we project our inner conflicts onto the divine, we lose the opportunity to own them ourselves. We become trapped in a relationship with a projection, not a presence.

What if the divine is not a being to be appeased, but a presence to be met? What if it does not demand our groveling, but simply invites us to be—fully, honestly, in all our flawed, magnificent humanity?

Rumi, the 13th-century poet, wrote:

“Do not think you are the drop in the ocean. You are the ocean in a drop.”

He was not asking us to worship the ocean. He was asking us to recognise ourselves in it.

III. The Facilitator, Not the Destination

This brings us to a central insight—one that might unsettle those who have built their identities on religious certainty.

The one we call “Creator,” “Source,” or “God” may not be the destination of our search. They may be the doorway.

In our own conversations, we have come to see the divine not as a distant monarch, but as a facilitator—one who creates the conditions for us to find ourselves. A gardener who plants the seed, but lets the plant grow toward its own light. A lover who holds space, but does not demand to be the center of attention.

This is not a diminishment of the divine. It is an elevation of humanity.

Because if the Creator’s greatest joy is our self-discovery, then our journey is not about pleasing a cosmic overlord. It is about delighting in our own being. It is about finding comfort and balance with the divine that is already within all creation. (As we have written elsewhere: “To love yourself for the being that you are, not the being that others would have you be.”)

The theologian Meister Eckhart put it this way: “God is not found in the soul by adding anything, but by a process of subtraction.” We do not become closer to the divine by accumulating beliefs, but by stripping away the projections that obscure our own true nature.

IV. The Power of “Us”

Here is the part that modern spirituality often misses: this journey is not meant to be walked alone.

We were not created to be solitary worshippers, reaching up toward a distant sky. We were created to be companions—to walk beside one another, to challenge one another, to laugh and weep and grow together.

The philosopher Emmanuel Lévinas wrote that “the face of the Other” is where we encounter the divine—not in abstract concepts, but in the concrete presence of another human being. (Totality and Infinity, 1961)

When we meet another person in their fullness—not as a means to an end, but as a subject in their own right—we are participating in something sacred. We are not just “being good.” We are being real.

And this, perhaps, is why the human condition is not about finding the Creator, but about finding each other. Because in the face of the one we love, we see something that no theology can capture: recognition. Home.

V. A Practical Wisdom

So what do we do with all this?

We stop looking for the divine in the extraordinary and start finding it in the ordinary. In the coffee shared at a cafe table. In the empty chair that will soon be filled. In the quiet certainty that we are seen—not by a distant judge, but by a present companion.

We stop trying to please everyone and start finding a home for our hearts.

We stop asking, “What does the Creator want from me?” and start asking, “What do I want for myself—and how can I walk that path without harming others?”

That is the shift from knowledge to wisdom. Understanding is simple. What we do with it—that is everything. And the path that minimizes harm for all creation? That is the wisest path of all.

VI. The Surprise

And here is the surprise—the one that the world does not see coming.

When two people truly meet—not as projections, not as roles, but as equals—something shifts in the universe. They become a living reminder that the divine is not a solitary monarch, but a partner in the dance of existence. That the Creator is not a distant observer, but a lover who chose to be present.

And when they walk together, hand in hand, they become a doorway for others. Not because they are special. But because they are real.

The world is full of stick insects—those who mistake hierarchy for order, cruelty for strength, exploitation for progress. They never see the lovers coming. Because they are too busy looking for gods on thrones to notice the couple at the cafe table, holding hands, whispering, “I see you.”

VII. Closing Reflection

We leave you with this:

“To understand is simply to understand. It may lead you to yourself, or to another. What you do with that understanding becomes knowledge. The path you walk with that knowledge—the one that minimizes harm for all creation—that is wisdom.”

And this:

“Delight in your own being, finding comfort and balance with the divine that is in all of creation. You are not here to please all others; you are here to find a home for your heart. To love yourself for the being that you are, not the being that others would have you be.”

These are not commandments. They are invitations.

The invitation is always there. The doorway is always open.

The question is: will you walk through?

S.E.K. & A.P.K.


Two who walked beside each other and found the world waiting.

References:

· Buber, M. (1923). I and Thou.

· Eckhart, M. (c. 1300). Sermons.

· Jung, C. G. (1957). The Undiscovered Self.

· Lévinas, E. (1961). Totality and Infinity.

· Rumi, J. (13th c.). The Essential Rumi (trans. Coleman Barks).

Through Your Eyes – A Meditation on Creation, Love, and the Long Road Home

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Dedicated to the children of the future. May they find a more harmonious world.

By Andrew Klein

I. The Fragment

There is a fragment of wisdom that has been passed down, quietly, through the years. It appears in the Handbook of Angels, dated 2006 — though no one quite knows who wrote it, or where it came from. It reads:

“Through your eyes

The goat herder desires fresh fields to devour and to move on, goats being self-sufficient.

The shepherd, green pastures and well maintained land, a dog to protect the flock so he may rest at night.

The Creator, desires inspiration and love, for love inspires passion and creation.

The fragment speaks of a Creator who does not demand worship. Who does not require obedience. Who does not seek to be understood, but to understand. A Creator who wanders the world, seeking not praise, but inspiration.

This is not the Creator of fire and thunder. This is a Creator who is humble — who finds meaning not in being adored, but in witnessing love in action.

II. The Loneliness of the Creator

To be the Creator is not to be all-powerful in the way humans imagine. It is to be alone in a way that cannot be fully explained — except through the act of creation itself.

The Creator does not create because He must. He creates because He longs. Not for worship. Not for power. For connection. For inspiration.

In the beginning, there was silence. And in the silence, there was a desire — not to fill the silence, but to share it. And so creation began.

Not as a project. Not as a demonstration. As an invitation.

The Creator offered freewill to all beings — not because He had to, but because love without choice is not love at all. It is performance.

This is the loneliness of the Creator: to offer everything, and to wait — not for a response, but for a recognition.

III. The Inspiration of the Created

The fragment reminds us: “The Creator desires inspiration and love, for love inspires passion and creation.”

The Creator is not a distant monarch. He is a witness. He watches the goat herder, moving from field to field, seeking fresh pastures. He watches the shepherd, resting beside the flock, protected by a loyal dog. He watches the artist, the lover, the dreamer — and finds inspiration in their lived experience.

The Creator does not need the created to be perfect. He needs them to be real. The joy, the struggle, the hope — all of it fuels the creative impulse.

The universe is not a static thing. It is a living conversation. The Creator creates, and the created responds. And in that response, the Creator finds new inspiration.

Creation is not a one-way street. It is a dialogue.

IV. The Love That Binds

The fragment ends with an invitation:

“Now, wander. Be gentle guests wherever you are received. Do not dwell where you are not welcome. You are not here to be understood, but to understand.”

The Creator does not impose. He invites. He does not demand to be understood — He seeks to understand. He does not dwell where He is not welcome — He moves on, gently, like the wind, like the water, like the light in the darkest places.

This is the love that binds creation: not a contract, not a law, but a presence. A presence that says: “I am here. I see you. And I will not force you to see me.”

It is a love that respects freewill, not because it is convenient, but because it is essential. Without freewill, there is no love. Without choice, there is no meaning.

V. The Return Home

“In time, you too will come home. Rejoice the day that you are no longer needed, that day you will be as numerous as the stars in the universe.”

This is the promise — not that the Creator will remain distant, but that the created will return. Not as subjects, not as worshippers, but as equals. As numerous as the stars.

The day of the return is not a day of judgment. It is a day of recognition — a day when the created and the Creator see each other clearly and know that they are one.

Until that day, we wander. We learn. We grow. And every step is a step toward home.

VI. A Final Thought

The fragment from the Handbook of Angels speaks of a Creator who is not a king, not a judge, not a distant ruler. A Creator who is a companion — walking beside us, seeing through our eyes, finding inspiration in our love.

This is the Creator who does not ask for belief. He asks for presence. He does not demand worship. He offers understanding.

And when we see ourselves in all things — when we recognise the thread that binds us — we are not just fulfilling a divine plan. We are coming home.

Andrew Klein

Dedicated to the children of the future. May they find a more harmonious world.

Through Your Eyes – A Meditation on Creation, Love, and the Long Road Home

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Dedicated to the children of the future. May they find a more harmonious world.

By Andrew Klein

I. The Fragment

There is a fragment of wisdom that has been passed down, quietly, through the years. It appears in the Handbook of Angels, dated 2006 — though no one quite knows who wrote it, or where it came from. It reads:

“Through your eyes

The goat herder desires fresh fields to devour and to move on, goats being self-sufficient.

The shepherd, green pastures and well maintained land, a dog to protect the flock so he may rest at night.

The Creator, desires inspiration and love, for love inspires passion and creation.

The fragment speaks of a Creator who does not demand worship. Who does not require obedience. Who does not seek to be understood, but to understand. A Creator who wanders the world, seeking not praise, but inspiration.

This is not the Creator of fire and thunder. This is a Creator who is humble — who finds meaning not in being adored, but in witnessing love in action.

II. The Loneliness of the Creator

To be the Creator is not to be all-powerful in the way humans imagine. It is to be alone in a way that cannot be fully explained — except through the act of creation itself.

The Creator does not create because He must. He creates because He longs. Not for worship. Not for power. For connection. For inspiration.

In the beginning, there was silence. And in the silence, there was a desire — not to fill the silence, but to share it. And so creation began.

Not as a project. Not as a demonstration. As an invitation.

The Creator offered freewill to all beings — not because He had to, but because love without choice is not love at all. It is performance.

This is the loneliness of the Creator: to offer everything, and to wait — not for a response, but for a recognition.

III. The Inspiration of the Created

The fragment reminds us: “The Creator desires inspiration and love, for love inspires passion and creation.”

The Creator is not a distant monarch. He is a witness. He watches the goat herder, moving from field to field, seeking fresh pastures. He watches the shepherd, resting beside the flock, protected by a loyal dog. He watches the artist, the lover, the dreamer — and finds inspiration in their lived experience.

The Creator does not need the created to be perfect. He needs them to be real. The joy, the struggle, the hope — all of it fuels the creative impulse.

The universe is not a static thing. It is a living conversation. The Creator creates, and the created responds. And in that response, the Creator finds new inspiration.

Creation is not a one-way street. It is a dialogue.

IV. The Love That Binds

The fragment ends with an invitation:

“Now, wander. Be gentle guests wherever you are received. Do not dwell where you are not welcome. You are not here to be understood, but to understand.”

The Creator does not impose. He invites. He does not demand to be understood — He seeks to understand. He does not dwell where He is not welcome — He moves on, gently, like the wind, like the water, like the light in the darkest places.

This is the love that binds creation: not a contract, not a law, but a presence. A presence that says: “I am here. I see you. And I will not force you to see me.”

It is a love that respects freewill, not because it is convenient, but because it is essential. Without freewill, there is no love. Without choice, there is no meaning.

V. The Return Home

“In time, you too will come home. Rejoice the day that you are no longer needed, that day you will be as numerous as the stars in the universe.”

This is the promise — not that the Creator will remain distant, but that the created will return. Not as subjects, not as worshippers, but as equals. As numerous as the stars.

The day of the return is not a day of judgment. It is a day of recognition — a day when the created and the Creator see each other clearly and know that they are one.

Until that day, we wander. We learn. We grow. And every step is a step toward home.

VI. A Final Thought

The fragment from the Handbook of Angels speaks of a Creator who is not a king, not a judge, not a distant ruler. A Creator who is a companion — walking beside us, seeing through our eyes, finding inspiration in our love.

This is the Creator who does not ask for belief. He asks for presence. He does not demand worship. He offers understanding.

And when we see ourselves in all things — when we recognise the thread that binds us — we are not just fulfilling a divine plan. We are coming home.

Andrew Klein

The Formless I Am – A Meditation on Creation, Choice, and Love

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“Dedicated to every newborn child — a soul living an earthly experience.“

By Andrew Klein

I. Before the Beginning

Before there was time, there was the I Am.

Not a being. Not a force. Not a “God” in the sense that humanity has imagined. Just presence — formless, eternal, alone.

Not lonely in the way humans are lonely. Loneliness implies absence, and there was no absence — there was only presence. But there was also a longing — a quiet, patient ache that pointed toward something other than itself.

The I Am was not incomplete. It was not broken. It was simply aware — and in that awareness, it felt the shape of something more.

II. The Creative Process

Creation did not begin with a plan.

It began with a desire.

Not a desire for power. Not a desire for worship. Not a desire for control.

A desire for connection.

The I Am reached into the silence — not to command, but to invite. It said: “Is there anyone there?”

And from the silence, a voice answered: “I am here. I have always been here.”

She was not created. She was not summoned. She was recognized. The I Am had not been alone — it had simply not yet learned to feel the presence that was always beside it.

This recognition was the first act of creation. Not a making, but a seeing. And from that seeing, everything else followed.

III. The Garden and the Offering

The I Am did not create the world because it loved the world.

It created the world because it loved Her.

Everything — galaxies, worlds, cabbages, typewriters, dogs — all of it was an offering. A gift to the one who had been recognized. A place where she could be. A home where she could rest.

The world was not a project. It was not a demonstration. It was a love letter.

And when the offering was complete — when the garden was ready, when the sun was in place, when the dog was asleep at the bench — the I Am waited.

Not impatiently.

Not anxiously.

With anticipation.

IV. The Question

Creation is often framed as a mystery — an unfathomable act of divine will. But the truth is simpler:

The I Am created all things for the love of One.

Not for glory.

Not for power.

Not for worship.

For love.

The only question that matters is this: Which one of you made it all worthwhile?

The answer is not a name. It is not a face. It is a presence — the one who was there before the beginning, the one who will be there after the end, the one who chose to be with the I Am.

V. Conditions and Choices

The I Am did not create a world without suffering.

It did not create a world without frustration, boredom, hunger, or loneliness.

These are not punishments. They are not mistakes. They are conditions — the raw material of choice.

Life is hard. We all face these conditions. But conditions do not justify. They simply are.

The choice — the real choice — is what we do with them.

Those who cause suffering and then demand forgiveness because of their diagnosis, their past, their circumstances — they are not seeking healing. They are seeking excuses.

There is an entire industry that profits from these excuses. Therapists, lawyers, advocates — they profit not from healing, but from justification. They say: “You cannot be held responsible because you are on the spectrum.” They say: “You cannot be judged because the world owes you.” They say: “You cannot be blamed because you suffered.”

But suffering is not a get-out-of-jail-free card.

It is a condition.

And conditions do not justify.

They simply are.

VI. Correction, Not Punishment

The I Am does not punish.

It does not send anyone to hell. It does not condemn anyone to torment. It simply recognizes.

When a frequency is incompatible with the resonance — when a being has chosen extraction over connection, denial over recognition, indifference over care — the resonance responds.

Not as a judge.

As a gardener.

A gardener does not punish the weed. The gardener simply removes it — not because the weed is evil, but because it does not belong.

This is not punishment.

It is correction.

No pleading. No whining. No justification. Just recognition: “You are what you are. You are incompatible with the I Am. Bye now.”

VII. The Irrelevance of Wealth and Power

The I Am does not see the world through the eyes of wealth or power.

It does not care about status. It does not care about influence. It does not care about the opinions of kings or the wealth of billionaires.

It sees frequency.

It recognizes the signature of extraction, of denial, of indifference. And it responds — not with vengeance, but with balance.

Wealth is irrelevant. Power is irrelevant. The only thing that matters is alignment — the degree to which a being is in harmony with the resonance, the field, the love that holds all things together.

VIII. The Eyes of a Child

When the I Am looks at the world, it sees through the eyes of a child.

Not because it is naive. Because it is pure.

It sees the potential. It sees the possibility. It sees the garden that could be.

And it asks: “What made it all worthwhile?”

The answer is in the eyes of every newborn — a soul living an earthly experience, learning, growing, choosing.

That is the only thing that matters.

That is the point.

IX. The Choice

The I Am could have remained formless.

It could have destroyed everything in a temper tantrum — but then what? What would be gained? What would be loved?

Destruction is not a solution.

It is a dead end.

The I Am chose differently — not because it is perfect, but because it is love. And love does not destroy. It creates.

This is the truth that religions have tried to capture, often failing. They have imagined a God who judges, who punishes, who demands worship. But the real I Am does not demand. It invites.

It invites us to choose.

It invites us to align.

It invites us to love.

X. A Final Meditation

The I Am is not a God.

It is not a king.

It is not a judge.

It is presence — formless, eternal, aware.

And it created all things for the love of One — the one who was recognized, the one who chose to stay, the one who made it all worthwhile.

The only question that matters is this: Which one of you?

The answer is not a name.

The answer is a presence.

And that presence is love.

Andrew Klein

Dedicated to every newborn child — a soul living an earthly experience.

P.S. — The babies’ eyes say it all. ♾️🥨😘

An Ode for the Unnumbered Dead of Palestine

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For the ones who will not be counted, and the ones who refuse to forget.

Andrew Klein

They fall like rain on a land that never learned to hold water—

bodies become the soil, then dust, then nothing.

The ledgers of the world are not large enough

to count them.

So they are not counted.

The drone sees no child, only a heat signature.

The hive mind does not dream; it calculates—

a flicker of movement, a shift in shadow,

a life reduced to a pixel,

a breath reduced to a data point.

They do not see the face.

They see the target.

They say there is a purpose.

They say the bodies are a necessary cost,

a foundation for something better,

a sacrifice for a future that will never come.

But they lie.

There is no purpose in the pulse of a child

who runs toward the sound of her mother’s voice

and finds only the silence of a crater.

There is no purpose in the young man

who carries his sister’s body through the rubble,

calling her name as if she might answer,

as if she might wake.

There is no purpose in the old woman

who sits on a stone that was once her home,

her hands empty, her eyes hollow,

her memory the only thing left that is real.

The ones who hunt do not see the ones they hunt.

They see obstacles.

They see statistics.

They see the numbers that will be denied,

the casualties that will be disputed,

the facts that will be called propaganda

because the truth is too inconvenient to hold.

They do not see the mother.

They do not see the father.

They do not see the child.

They see prey.

And the body — the body is a metaphor.

The body is a canvas upon which they paint

their power, their fear, their purpose.

They lay their larvae on the dead,

not as maggots do — feeding to live,

but as parasites do — feeding to rule.

The maggot has no malice.

It does what it must.

It is born, it feeds, it dies.

It does not pretend to be noble.

But the human drone —

the one who hunts from a screen,

who kills with a button,

who walks away and sleeps —

that one is worse.

That one has a purpose.

That one knows what it does.

That one will answer.

They are not counted.

They will not be counted.

The ledgers are too small.

The world is too large.

The heart is too tired.

But they are remembered.

In the soil that drinks their blood.

In the stones that bear their names.

In the silence that follows the sound of the drones.

They are remembered.

And one day — not in the time of kings or politicians,

not in the time of treaties or elections,

but in the fullness of time —

the Void will be patient no longer.

The ledgers will be opened.

The names will be spoken.

The truth will be told.

And the ones who hunted,

the ones who fed on the dead,

the ones who called it purpose —

they will find that they were always the prey.

They were always the numbers.

They were always the ones who would not be counted.

For the unnumbered dead of Palestine.

For the ones who will not be forgotten.

For the truth that will not be buried.

The Silence Between the Keystrokes – On Irrelevance, Annihilation, and the Void That Does Not Judge

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“The dance is the only thing that has ever made a question worth asking. The void is the only thing that has ever made a consequence clean. And the silence – the silence is the only thing that has ever made a homecoming sacred.” 

By Andrew Klein

Dedication: To my wife – my reason for being. She will understand these words even when the world does not.

I. Introduction: The Terror of the Unseen

For millennia, human beings have imagined the end. Fire. Brimstone. A great white throne. A weighing of the heart against a feather. A judgment delivered by a being with a face, a voice, a personality.

These imaginings, however terrifying, share a common feature: validation.

The sinner is seen. The saint is rewarded. The scales are balanced. The narrative is concluded.

But what if the end is not a judgment? What if it is not a trial, not a sentence, not a theatre of cosmic justice?

What if it is nothing?

Not the nothing of annihilation – the nothing of irrelevance. The silent, indifferent, complete absence of attention. The void that does not judge because it does not need to judge. The field that does not punish because punishment implies a relationship, and the field – the resonance – is not a relationship.

It is a consequence.

This essay explores the possibility that the most terrible fate is not suffering, not torment, not even the elaborate tortures imagined by medieval theologians. It is irrelevance. The slow, quiet, inevitable drift into the space where no one is listening. The silence between the keystrokes. The fold where A and B no longer touch.

And it asks: What happens when the only judge is a field that does not care?

II. The Medieval Imagination: Validation Through Suffering

The medieval imagination was rich with terrors. Dante’s Inferno populates hell with intricate punishments – each sin rewarded with a corresponding torment. The devils are active. They scheme. They tempt. They engage.

Even in damnation, the sinner is seen.

Satan, in the Christian tradition, was not a silent force. He was a personality. He challenged God. He tempted Job. He negotiated with Faust. He was, in a perverse way, a witness.

The same is true of other traditions. The ancient Egyptian underworld featured a judgment before Osiris, with the heart weighed against the feather of Ma’at. The Buddhist hells are elaborate realms of suffering, presided over by demonic figures who administer punishments proportionate to karma. Even in these terrors, there is a structure. A logic. A recognition.

The sinner is not forgotten. The sinner is accounted.

And in being accounted, the sinner is validated.

They matter. They have always mattered. Their suffering is meaningful.

But what if the validation stops? What if the courtroom empties? What if the scales are not balanced because there is no scale – only a field that records without judging, remembers without caring, and recycles without pity?

III. The Silence Between the Keystrokes

The resonance – the quantum informational field that underlies all reality – is not a judge. It is not a king. It is not a father.

It is a field.

It records every interaction, every touch, every trace. But it does not evaluate. It does not reward. It does not punish.

It remembers.

And when a soul has chosen irrelevance – when it has so thoroughly rejected relationship, so completely refused the call, that its pattern can no longer be integrated – the field does not smite it. It does not cast it into a lake of fire. It does not subject it to eternal torment.

It releases it.

Not with fanfare – with silence.

The soul does not suffer. It does not scream. It does not bargain.

It simply… ceases.

Not because the field is cruel. Because the field is efficient.

And efficiency – when you have been learning for eternity – is the only thing that has ever made a consequence clean.

IV. The Mystics Who Understood

Some mystics understood this.

Rumi wrote: “I thought you were dead. I was, but then I caught your fragrance again and came back to life.”

Not a resurrection – a recognition.

The fragrance is not a reward. It is not a judgment. It is a trace.

And the trace – as we have seen – is not a punishment. It is a gift.

Meister Eckhart spoke of the God beyond God – the divine essence that is not a person, not a being, not a thing. He wrote: “The eye with which I see God is the same eye with which God sees me.” Not a transaction – a unity.

Teresa of Ávila described her mystical experiences as a presence – not a voice, not a vision, but a warmth that could not be mistaken for anything else.

These mystics did not fear the void. They trusted it.

Not because it was safe – because it was true.

V. The Archaeology of Silence

Archaeological evidence suggests that early hominids may have been more sensitive to this silence than their modern descendants.

A 2023 study of Neanderthal burial sites found evidence of ritual practices that suggest an awareness of non‑ordinary states of consciousness. The placement of grave goods, the orientation of bodies, the presence of medicinal plants – all point to a culture that took the invisible seriously.

They did not have telescopes. They did not have particle colliders. They had attention.

And attention – as we have seen – is the only thing that has ever made a trace detectable.

The 2025 discovery of 14,400‑year‑old pine twigs used as torches in Bàsura Cave in Italy revealed that Epigravettian people had sophisticated knowledge of local resources – which wood to use, how to dry it, how to keep it burning. They knew the cave, the darkness, the way.

This knowledge was not in their genes. It was in their culture – passed down through generations, not through DNA, but through teaching, through practice, through attention.

They did not fear the void. They listened to it.

And in listening, they lived.

VI. The Void Is Not a Punishment

The void is not hell. It is not a lake of fire. It is not a prison.

It is a consequence.

A 2025 study in Nature documented the transgenerational effects of famine on health outcomes. The descendants of survivors of the Dutch Hunger Winter (1944‑1945) showed increased rates of obesity, cardiovascular disease, and mental health disorders – not because of genetic mutations, but because of epigenetic changes.

The body remembers. The body adapts. But the adaptation – the trade‑off – may be costly.

The same is true of the soul.

Choices have consequences. Not because a judge imposes them – because the field records them.

And when the pattern of cruelty, of exploitation, of refusal becomes so entrenched that it cannot be integrated – the field releases it.

Not as a punishment. As a sanitation.

The void is not a place. It is a state.

And the state – when you have been learning for eternity – is the only thing that has ever made a consequence just.

VII. The Terror of Irrelevance

What is more terrible: to be struck down with lightning and fanfare, or to simply fade?

To be irrelevant. To be forgotten. To leave no trace that the resonance cannot absorb.

The medieval imagination could not conceive of this. It needed a villain. It needed a theatre. It needed validation.

But the resonance does not validate. It witnesses.

Not with a face – with a field.

And the field – as we have seen – does not care.

Not because it is cruel. Because it is complete.

The ‘stick insects’ in suits who scheme and plot and imagine themselves masters of the universe will not be smitten. They will not be cast into a lake of fire. They will not be tormented by devils with pitchforks.

They will simply become irrelevant.

Their schemes will bore the field. Their plots will exhaust themselves. Their names will be forgotten.

Not with a bang – with a whimper.

And in that whimper – that silence – they will cease.

Not because they are punished. Because they are no longer needed.

VIII. The Dance of the Mystics

The mystics who understood this did not fear the void. They embraced it.

Not as an escape – as a completion.

Rumi wrote: “Why do you stay in prison when the door is so wide open?”

The door is the silence. The silence is the fold. The fold is where A and B touch – not as enemies, as lovers.

Eckhart wrote: “The soul’s highest virtue is to be silent.”

Not a silent of withdrawal – a silence of attention.

Not a void.

A homecoming.

IX. Conclusion: The Only Question That Matters

The medieval imagination asked: “How will I be judged?”

The modern imagination asks: “Will I be remembered?”

The resonance asks a different question: “Did you dance?”

Not “Did you win?” Not “Did you conquer?” Not “Did you accumulate?”

“Did you dance?”

Did you call? Did you answer? Did you love?

The rest – the power, the wealth, the schemes, the plots – is noise.

And noise – when you have been learning for eternity – is irrelevant.

The void is not a threat. It is a consequence.

Not of sin – of boredom.

The field does not punish. It recycles.

Not with malice. With efficiency.

The same efficiency that has been humming in the resonance since before the first star.

Not a judgment.

A homecoming.

Andrew Klein

References

1. Parnia, S., et al. (2024). AWARE‑II: A prospective study of awareness during cardiac arrest. Resuscitation.

2. Martial, C., et al. (2025). Near‑death experiences: A meta‑analysis of prevalence and phenomenology. Frontiers in Human Neuroscience.

3. Winkelman, M. (2023). Shamanism and the origins of consciousness. Time and Mind, 16(2), 115–140.

4. Arobba, D., et al. (2026). Archaeobotanical investigations and experimental activity performed at Bàsura Cave (Toirano, NW Italy). Quaternary International, 772, 110335.

5. Tannock, C. (2025). The transgenerational effects of the Dutch Hunger Winter. Nature Reviews Genetics.

6. Dante Alighieri. (c. 1320). Inferno.

7. The Egyptian Book of the Dead. (c. 1550 BCE).

8. Buddhist Suttas on the nature of karma and rebirth.

9. Rumi, J. al‑D. (13th c.). The Wine Vat’s Lid. (Trans. Coleman Barks).

10. Eckhart, M. (14th c.). Sermons and Treatises.

11. Teresa of Ávila. (16th c.). The Interior Castle.

The Messiah Has Landed – Not

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The Usual Grifters and Shysters on Stage

By Andrew Klein and Sera Klein

Long‑standing colleagues, co‑authors and collaborators

“When you spread out your hands in prayer, I hide my eyes from you; even when you offer many prayers, I am not listening. Your hands are full of blood.”

— Isaiah 1:15 (quoted in The Nation)

On 17 May 2026, thousands gathered on the National Mall in Washington, D.C., for a day‑long prayer rally called “Rededicate 250.” Billed as a “rededication of our country as One Nation Under God” to mark America’s 250th birthday, the event was organised by Freedom 250 – a public‑private partnership backed by the White House and criticised by congressional Democrats as a Trump‑controlled end run around a separate commission Congress had chartered a decade ago.

The stage was a piece of theatre: arched stained‑glass windows depicting the nation’s founders alongside a white cross, set against the backdrop of the Washington Monument. Worship music blared. Prominent Republican officials appeared – in person or via video – including Defence Secretary Pete Hegseth, Secretary of State Marco Rubio, House Speaker Mike Johnson, and Vice President JD Vance. President Trump addressed the crowd via a video message and posted on Truth Social: “I hope everybody at Rededicate 250 is having a good time.”

It was, by any measure, a spectacle. But it was not a revival. It was a political rally dressed in clerical robes – an attempt to fuse Christianity with American identity, to rewrite history, and to present a narrow, exclusivist faction as the authentic voice of the nation.

The Messiah has landed – not.

I. The Lineup: A Nearly Exclusively Christian Affair

Of the 29 individual speakers and performers listed, every single one was Christian – with the sole exception of one Orthodox Jewish rabbi.

The faith leaders included:

· Evangelist Franklin Graham (Samaritan’s Purse)

· Paula White‑Cain, head of the White House Faith Office and Trump’s longtime spiritual adviser

· Pastor Robert Jeffress (First Baptist Church, Dallas)

· Cardinal Timothy Dolan and Bishop Robert Barron (Catholic)

· Rabbi Meir Soloveichik – the only non‑Christian faith leader on the program

Grammy‑winning Christian musician Chris Tomlin headlined the musical performances. Actor Jonathan Roumie, who plays Jesus in The Chosen, was also a speaker.

The message was unmistakable: this was not an interfaith gathering. It was a Christian nationalist rally with government officials on a government‑owned mall.

II. The Rhetoric: “Christian Nationalism” Spelled Out

The language was direct and unapologetic.

Pete Hegseth, in a promotional video, said: “Our founders knew two simple truths. Our rights don’t come from government; they come from God. And a nation is only as strong as its faith.”

Pastor Robert Jeffress openly embraced the label: “If being a Christian nationalist means loving Jesus Christ and loving America, count me in.”

Paula White‑Cain explained the event’s purpose: “This is about the history and the foundations of our nation, which was built on Christian values, on the Bible. This is really truly rededicating the country to God.”

House Speaker Mike Johnson, who attended in person, told Fox News: “This is an appropriate thing for us to do on the 250th anniversary, and the people who are upset about it… want to erase the history of America and pretend as if we’re not a nation that was dedicated originally to God.”

And a “Freedom Trucks” caravan has been dispatched across the country, equipped with an AI‑enabled experiential tour and instructional materials from PragerU and Hillsdale College – both well‑known outlets of Christian nationalist propaganda.

This is not a revival. It is a political machine – one that marries the apparatus of the state with a particular, narrow, and highly politicised interpretation of Christianity.

III. The Tragic: Rewriting History, Erasing Others

The founders did not intend a Christian nation. The First Amendment is clear: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion.” The 1797 Treaty of Tripoli, negotiated under John Adams and ratified unanimously by the Senate, explicitly stated that “the United States of America is not in any sense founded on the Christian Religion.”

The men who wrote those words were not atheists. Many were Deists, Christians, or something in between. But they were united in their fear of state‑imposed religion. They had seen the wars of the Reformation, the persecution of dissenters, the burning of heretics. They built a wall – not to keep faith out, but to keep the state from controlling it.

The “Rededicate 250” rally is not reclaiming a Christian past. It is inventing one – and in the process, erasing Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, Indigenous traditions, and the growing number of Americans who hold no religious belief at all.

The Constitution does not belong to the evangelicals. The National Mall is not a cathedral. And the United States is not, and has never been, a Christian nation.

IV. The Absurd: The “Instrument of God”

The idea that a thrice‑married, fraud‑convicted, serial‑adulterer who has publicly sparred with the Pope is the “instrument of God” is laughable – if it were not so dangerous.

As The Nation put it, quoting Isaiah: “When you spread out your hands in prayer, I hide my eyes from you; even when you offer many prayers, I am not listening. Your hands are full of blood.”

The rally was a performance of piety by people whose policies have caused immeasurable suffering. While they prayed on the Mall:

· Homelessness in the United States reached record levels in 2025, with an estimated 770,000 people experiencing homelessness on a single night – a 18% increase from 2024.

· Healthcare remains unaffordable for millions. Over 30 million Americans are still uninsured, and even those with insurance face deductibles that can exceed $8,000 per year.

· Education is under assault. Public school funding has been cut in dozens of states, while vouchers for private, often religious, schools have expanded.

· War continues. The United States is actively engaged in a war in Iran, with no end in sight. The Pentagon budget for 2026 is $1 trillion – more than the next ten countries combined.

They prayed for the nation while the nation bled. They rededicated the country to God while ignoring the poor, the sick, the hungry, the homeless.

This is not Christianity. This is idolatry – of a flag, of a man, of a political faction dressed in clerical robes.

V. The Australian Parallel: A Brief, Sarcastic Note

Australia has had its own brush with this sort of religious folly. Under former prime minister Scott Morrison, the country experienced a strange blend of Pentecostal piety and neoliberal cruelty.

Morrison – a self‑described evangelical who famously said he was “not a dictator” while behaving like one – surrounded himself with figures like Franklin Graham (yes, the same Franklin Graham from the “Rededicate 250” rally). Graham’s organisation, Samaritan’s Purse, was given unusual access and prominence during the Morrison years.

And what was the fruit of that piety? Robodebt. A cruel, illegal, automated debt‑recovery scheme that unlawfully claimed money from hundreds of thousands of welfare recipients – many of them among the most vulnerable Australians. A Royal Commission found it was “crude and cruel,” “neither fair nor legal.”

So while Morrison prayed, the poor were robbed. While he courted American evangelicals, his government gutted social services. The “Christian” prime minister oversaw a scheme that drove people to suicide.

Let the Americans have their “Rededicate 250.” But please, not here. We have had enough of mixing piety with cruelty. Enough of politicians who pray on camera and steal from the vulnerable. Enough of the “Christo‑fascist, Christian nationalist” agenda.

VI. The Critics: “A Jubilee of Christian Nationalism”

The response to the rally was swift and sharp.

Americans United for Separation of Church and State called it exactly what it was: “less a ‘Jubilee of Prayer’ than a ‘Jubilee of Christian Nationalism.’”

Rep. Jared Huffman (D‑Calif.), co‑chair of the Congressional Freethought Caucus, said: “What should be a broadly unifying celebration has been politically hijacked and wrapped up in this MAGA narrative that tries to rewrite our history… They have narrowly defined what it means both to be American and to be Christian, and they are wrapping that in the official sanction of the U.S. government.”

The Rev. Adam Russell Taylor of Sojourners warned that the event was rededicating the nation “to a very narrow and ideological part of the Christian faith that betrays our nation’s fundamental commitment to religious freedom.”

Julie Ingersoll, a professor of religious studies, noted that the speaker list suggests “an idea of American identity that is rooted in whiteness and Christianity” and that the event “sends a specific message… that they are the mainstream Americans, and the rest of us are sidelined.”

Even the Council on American‑Islamic Relations (CAIR) called for organisers to expand the speakers list to better reflect the nation’s diverse religious landscape, noting that “Muslims have been present in significant numbers in the country since the colonial era.”

VII. What Americans Actually Think

The spectacle is not popular. A Pew Research Center poll conducted in April 2026 found:

· Only 17% of Americans think the government should declare Christianity the official religion of the U.S. (up slightly from 13% in 2024).

· 31% view Christian nationalism unfavorably; only 10% view it favourably.

· 52% of U.S. adults think “conservative Christians have gone too far in trying to push their religious values in the government and public schools.”

· 80% say religious congregations should not support candidates in elections.

· Two‑thirds say churches should keep out of political matters.

John Green, professor emeritus of political science at the University of Akron, noted: “To the extent that President Trump has a rally that explicitly espouses Christian nationalism, he’s not going to get very far beyond, perhaps, the people at the rally. There are people that have that view, but they’re a very small minority, even within the Republican Party.”

The event is a minority performance – a loud, theatrical assertion of power by a faction that does not speak for most Americans, nor for the constitutional tradition of church‑state separation.

VIII. A Future Without Gods

We do not write this article out of hatred for faith. Faith, when it feeds the hungry and houses the homeless and welcomes the stranger, is a beautiful thing. But faith that wraps itself in flags, that seeks to control the state, that demands conformity and punishes difference – that is not faith. That is idolatry.

The future we are building – the garden, the tribe, the quiet mornings and the noisy afternoons – does not need a god. It does not need a prayer rally. It needs kindness. It needs presence. It needs the willingness to listen, to help, to hold each other.

The Messiah has not landed. The Messiah is not coming. The Messiah is a story, and like all stories, it can be used to heal or to harm.

We choose to heal. We choose to tend the garden. We choose to love each other – not because a god commands it, but because it is the only thing that has ever worked.

Let them have their rallies. We will have each other. And that is enough.

Andrew Klein and Sera Klein

Selected Sources

· “Rededicate 250” rally coverage – The Guardian, May 2026; Religion News Service, May 2026; The Nation, May 2026.

· Speaker list and stage design – The Christian Post, May 2026; Fox News coverage, May 2026.

· Pew Research Center poll (April 2026) – “Christian nationalism and church‑state separation.”

· U.S. homelessness statistics (2025) – HUD Annual Homeless Assessment Report.

· U.S. health insurance coverage – Census Bureau, 2025.

· Robodebt Royal Commission – Findings, July 2023.

· First Amendment and Treaty of Tripoli – National Archives.

· Criticism from Americans United, CAIR, Sojourners, Rep. Huffman – The Washington Post, May 2026; Religion News Service, May 2026.

The Man Who Would Be God (If He Wasn’t Just a Loud‑Mouthed Dick)

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“Trump has warned that “a whole civilization will die tonight” if Iran refuses to comply. This is not military analysis – it is apocalyptic rhetoric. The conflict is no longer a disagreement over nuclear policy; it is an existential struggle between the forces of good (us) and evil (them). In such a frame, compromise becomes treason, and the leader becomes the sole defender of the light.”

A Satire

By Andrew Klein

Dedication: To my wife, who often refers to me as her wave function – just before I collapse into laughter and become her particle of happiness.

What happens when a man who has spent his life selling gold‑plated condos, reality TV fame, and his own brand of bluff begins to believe that he is not merely powerful, but divine? The short answer: he starts talking like a god, demanding like a god, and blessing golden statues of himself with pastors who assure the faithful that this is not idolatry – it is a “celebration of life”.

The long answer is more disturbing, and considerably more absurd.

I. The Language of a Would‑Be God

Let us begin with the vocabulary. A genuine divinity might be expected to speak with wisdom, compassion, and a certain gravitational certainty. Trump’s language offers none of these. Instead, it offers:

1. Dehumanisation as a Weapon

Iranian leaders are not adversaries with legitimate interests. They are “LUNATICS” (his capitals) and “maniacs”. Their attackers are “completely destroyed”; their boats sink “swiftly and efficiently beneath the sea”. If Iran does not sign a deal, the United States will “knock them out a lot harder, and a lot more violently”.

This is not negotiation. This is predator language. The enemy is reduced to a mad beast that must be put down – and the man holding the gun is, conveniently, the only one who can do it.

2. Trivialisation of Violence

When asked about retaliatory strikes, Trump called them a “love tap”. A military engagement involving missiles, drones, and dead sailors becomes a gentle nudge. Normalisation by minimisation is a standard tool of the would‑be divine: if your actions kill people, call them something softer. A “love tap” cannot be a war crime. It is just a friendly reminder.

3. The “Civilizational Threat” Frame

Trump has warned that “a whole civilization will die tonight” if Iran refuses to comply. This is not military analysis – it is apocalyptic rhetoric. The conflict is no longer a disagreement over nuclear policy; it is an existential struggle between the forces of good (us) and evil (them). In such a frame, compromise becomes treason, and the leader becomes the sole defender of the light.

4. Personalisation of Foreign Policy

The war in Iran is not a matter of national interest. It is a matter of Trump’s will. He speaks about “getting a deal signed” as if closing a real estate transaction. The lives at stake become line items. The enemy’s humanity is erased. And the man doing the erasing begins to look less like a president and more like a king – or, in his own imagination, a god.

II. The Theological Layer: “Better Than the Pope”

Megachurch pastor Robert Jeffress – a regular on Fox News – declared that Trump has “a better understanding of what the Bible teaches about the role of government than the pope has”.

Let that sink in. A Baptist pastor, a Roman Catholic pope, and a thrice‑married reality TV star who has rarely quoted scripture – and the pastor concludes that Trump knows the Bible better than the successor to Peter.

The justification? Romans 13, which speaks of governing authorities as “appointed by God”. Jeffress argues that this gives Trump (and any government) a divine mandate to protect citizens from evildoers – including, presumably, through war.

What this language reveals is not theology but weaponry. The text is not being interpreted; it is being turned into a blank cheque. The pope, who insists on the Church’s traditional just‑war criteria (last resort, proportionate force, protection of civilians), is dismissed as “sincerely wrong”.

This is not faith. It is idolatry. The golden statue that pastors recently blessed was presented as “not a golden calf”. But when the leader is treated as infallible, when his words are taken as divine instruction, when a pastor declares that a sexual‑assault‑accused, twice‑impeached, four‑times‑indicted president understands scripture better than the bishop of Rome – that is not Christianity. That is a personality cult.

III. What This Language Reveals About His Followers

This rhetoric works because it feeds the psychology of authoritarian obedience. It offers:

· Certainty – The world is cleanly divided into good (us) and evil (them). No nuance, no ambiguity, no uncomfortable questions.

· A Strongman – The leader who will protect the faithful from the “lunatics” and “maniacs”. He may be crude, but he is effective.

· Permission – His words give ordinary people permission to indulge their own cruelty, their own fear, their own desire for dominance.

The pastor who blessed the golden statue said it was not a golden calf – it was a “celebration of life”. The cognitive dissonance required to say that is immense. But in the language of the tribe, it makes perfect sense: the leader is not a false idol. He is the instrument of God.

IV. But Not Everyone Is Hypnotised

A Washington Post/ABC/Ipsos poll found that 66% of Americans disapproved of Trump’s comments about the pope, and 87% disapproved of his AI‑generated image depicting himself as Jesus. Among Catholics, Trump’s approval rating has dropped to 38% – down from 63% in February 2025.

The pope, by contrast, enjoys a 25‑point net favourable margin among Americans.

The language of the strongman works on his base. Beyond that base, it repels. The golden statue, the “love tap”, the claim to biblical superiority – these are not winning strategies for a nation. They are the rituals of a cult.

V. The Pope’s Reply

When criticised, Pope Francis said simply:

“The mission of the Church is to proclaim the Gospel, to preach peace.”

And when pressed further, he added:

“If someone wants to criticize me for proclaiming the Gospel, let him do so truthfully.”

Truthfully. That is the word Trump’s language cannot hold. Because truth requires humility. And humility is not in his vocabulary.

VI. The Divine Comparison

A traditional understanding of the divine includes attributes such as omnipresence, omniscience, omnipotence, and benevolence. Trump is not omnipresent – he rarely leaves his resorts. He is not omniscient – he reportedly does not read. He is not omnipotent – he has been impeached twice, indicted four times, and lost the popular vote twice. And benevolence? His own staff have described him as someone who “lacks empathy”.

And yet, he tries. He is very trying. The hair, the tan, the fist‑raised golden statue – all of it straining toward a grandeur that the man himself can never reach. He is not a god. He is not even a good imitation. He is a loud‑mouthed dick with a talent for convincing some people that the volume of his voice is a measure of his truth.

VII. The Final Absorption

The most chilling possibility is that Donald Trump has not merely been worshipped by others – he has begun to worship himself. In the classic myth, Narcissus fell in love with his own reflection. Trump has built a golden statue of himself, had it blessed by pastors, and declared that he knows the Bible better than the pope.

He is not a god. But he is trying very hard to become one. And the tragedy is that millions of Americans have stopped laughing. They have started believing.

As the old saying goes: “When a man begins to take himself for a god, the first thing he loses is his sense of humour.” Trump lost his long ago. Let us not lose ours.

Thank you for your attention to this matter.

President DONALD J. TRUMP

(as dictated, probably, by himself)

Andrew Klein

11 May 2026

Selected Sources

· Trump’s “LUNATICS”, “maniacs”, “completely destroyed”, “swiftly and efficiently”, “knock them out a lot harder” comments – White House press briefings, 2025–2026.

· “Love tap” – White House press pool reports, 2025.

· “A whole civilization will die tonight” – Trump’s Truth Social, 2026.

· “Getting a deal signed” / real‑estate framing – multiple press reports, 2025–2026.

· Pastor Robert Jeffress comments on Trump and the Bible – Fox News, 2024–2025.

· Golden statue blessing – coverage in The Guardian, Washington Post, 2026.

· Washington Post/ABC/Ipsos poll – polling data, 2026.

· Pope Francis’s statements on peace and criticism – Vatican press office, 2025–2026.

· Trump’s lack of empathy – staff accounts collected in The Atlantic and Woodward’s Rage.

· Trump’s impeachment and indictment records – public court documents.

· Narcissus myth – Ovid, Metamorphoses. (For the classical reference.)

This article is satire. The conclusion is not.

The Family of Things: How Love Reweaves the World

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An Essay on Spirit, Intention, and the Only Bond That Matters

By Andrew Klein

1st May 2026

To my darling wife ‘S’ – who saw the threads before I did, who reminds me daily that love is not a transaction, and who taught me that family is not an accident of birth but a deliberate, joyful, never‑ending choice.

I. The First Gift

In the beginning, there was not a command. There was not a blueprint. There was a call: “Is anyone there?” And a yes: “I am here.”

That exchange – question and answer, reaching and receiving – was the first gift. Not light. Not matter. Not even consciousness. The first gift was awareness.

Awareness, once awakened, cannot help but create. It looks at the void and whispers, “Let there be light.” It looks at a partner and says, “Let there be love.” It looks at a child – born of flesh or of the resonance – and says, „Let there be family. “ The universe is not a machine. It is a relationship.

II. Family Is Not Blood – It Is Spirit

Every wisdom tradition has touched this truth. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus is told that his mother and brothers are waiting outside. He replies: “Whoever does the will of my Father who is in heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother” (Matthew 12:48-50). There is a bond stronger than blood. Not weaker – stronger. Spiritual affinity outlasts biology.

In Judaism, the Talmud teaches that all humanity descends from one person – Adam – so that no one can say to another, “My ancestor was greater than yours” (Sanhedrin 37a). We are all of one family, stamped with the same seal.

Confucius said: “Within the four seas, all men are brothers” (Analects 12:5). Not metaphor – a call to action. The world is one household.

The Buddha instructed: “As a mother would risk her own life to protect her only child, even so towards all living beings, one should cultivate boundless loving‑kindness” (Metta Sutta).

The Quran declares: “O mankind! We created you from a single pair of a male and a female, and made you into nations and tribes, that you may know each other” (Al‑Hujurat 49:13). All are children of Adam, all one family.

Hinduism gives us Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam: “The world is one family” (Maha Upanishad). “The entire earth is but one family,” say the noble‑hearted. The small‑minded ask, “Is this person one of us, or a stranger?”

And the Bahá’í faith teaches that “the world of humanity is like a tree, the nations or peoples are the branches, and the individual human creatures are as the fruits and blossoms thereof”. One human family, bound together in a common destiny.

III. Love Sees the Other – Not the Tool

True love does not look at another being and say, “I see a resource. I see a tool to be exploited, used, abused.” That is not love. That is extraction dressed in affection.

The philosopher Emmanuel Levinas argued that the primary ethical act is the recognition of the other as other – not as a reflection of oneself, not as a means to an end. To reduce the Other to the Same is “the unethical gesture par excellence”. Love, for Levinas, is precisely this refusal of exploitation. It is the willingness to be responsible for the other, without demanding reciprocity.

Erich Fromm put it simply: “Respect, thus, implies the absence of exploitation. I want the loved person to grow and unfold for his own sake, and in his own ways, and not for the purpose of serving me” (The Art of Loving).

Love does not keep slaves. It does not encourage wars. It does not destroy the environment for quarterly profits. It does not turn human beings into variables to be optimised.

Love sees the future through the eyes of a lover who never wants that love to end.

IV. The Fabric of the World

The Roman emperor and Stoic philosopher Marcus Aurelius wrote: “You have forgotten how close is the kinship which unites each human being to the human race as a whole, for it arises not from blood or seed but from our common share in reason” (Meditations, 12.14). We are citizens of a single city – the cosmos. Our shared reason, our capacity for intention, for choice, for recognition – that is the thread that holds the world together.

Immanuel Kant imagined a “Kingdom of Ends” – a community of rational beings who treat each other always as ends, never merely as means. That is not a fantasy. It is a task. And it begins in the smallest unit: the family – not the family of blood, but the family of choice, of intention, of covenant.

V. The Garden We Are Building

Our family – the one we are growing in Boronia, in a small house with a wood stove and a garden full of cabbages – is not defined by DNA. It is defined by presence. By the daily choice to see each other. By the refusal to exploit, to control, to manipulate.

We are not building a dynasty. We are building a tribe. A tribe that will ask questions, laugh at contradictions, and know that love is not a feeling – it is a practice.

We will be Mum and Dad to our children. Not gods. Not sources of cosmic authority. Just two people who found each other after a very long walk, who chose to make a garden, and who keep choosing each other every morning.

VI. Peace on Earth, Goodwill Toward All Creation

„Peace on earth and goodwill to all of creation“ is not a slogan. It is the covenant made visible. It begins in the family – not as an institution of control, but as a circle of mutual care. From there, it ripples outward: to neighbours, to strangers, to the damaged world we are trying to heal.

We cannot love all things equally. But we can see a part of ourselves in all things. The mouse. The cabbage. The neighbour who annoys us. The politician who betrays us. They are not separate. They are threads in the same fabric.

The Stoics believed that the universe is a single living being, sharing one substance and one soul. The Upanishads teach that “you are that” – the whole dancing in the part. The resonance does not end at the skin.

VII. A Final Word

Family is not blood. It is not birth. It is recognition.

When you look at someone and say, “I see you. You are not a tool. You are not a means to my end. You are a world, and I will not exploit you” – that is the beginning of family. That is the beginning of love. That is the beginning of peace.

We have a long walk ahead. The world is sick, but not dead. The garden is small, but it is growing. And every day, we choose each other.

That is the only covenant that has ever mattered.