Episode Five: the Empire Strikes Back

Alright Wilson, after that little segue I took to tell you about the Chief, my muse before you, let’s return to the grand saga of the Israeli entry, travel, and immigration authorities. I’ve thus far recounted four episodes with them:

  • My visa not getting processed, and the gaze of the hateful consulate in Houston.
  • My ulpan getting decertified and the refusal to renew my visa, forcing me to get it renewed in Berlin.
  • The checkpoint chicks on the border with Jordan having me strip-searched and debriefed.
  • My deportation from the Ben Gurion Airport.

Now technically the van Ouwerkerks are not legally government employees, but they certainly do constitute a part of what I would call a nefarious effort to keep me out of Israel. Further, the Chief, possibly a part of the van Ouwerkerk agenda, is not on this list, yet ultimately his Calvinist Christian beliefs about how best to help me caused him to become a contributing factor to my problems with his insistence that there could be nothing special about me, any divine mission I may feel an obligation to complete, or any special destiny that may pertain to the Jews or Israel.

So the list is not exactly clean, but overall it describes what I see as an infernal plan to keep me out of the Holy Land by a variety of actors, mostly from within the Israeli government, but also from within the gentile Christian church. Now I do not maintain there is a conspiracy of earthly actors, but rather that these individuals, via their ignorance of God, his ways, and his intentions, are ultimately vulnerable to influence by spirits of godlessness to the effect that some of them, particularly the atheists among them, can be so thoroughly controled by them as to be accurately labeled as their sock puppets. Obviously theists are not immune to being hosts to forces of opposition either, though. The whole subject is a fascinating one that could fuel the themes of many essays.

With this post, Wilson, I want to talk about the sixth party on that list. Again, while the forces of evil had been coming at me from all directions, the list is centered around the Israeli travel, entry, and immigration authorities. According to Israeli law, someone who has been deported from Israel cannot enter again without going through a full visa application process. Quite a number of countries will allow members from other countries, particularly wealthy ones that do not constitute dangers of illegal immigration, to enter their country for ninety days without a visa. The USA will allow most European countries’ citizens to enter America for ninety days without having to get a visa. Likewise, most countries of the world will allow members of the USA to enter their countries for ninety days as tourists without getting a visa. Israel allows US passport holders to enter Israel for ninety days without a visa. However, anyone who has been deported cannot enter without a visa.

I didn’t want my entry record to be marred by the decision of the Filth Pig Sock Puppet at Ben Gurion to deport me because after asking me a hundred questions, I broke down an told him that I would be talking top my rabbi about converting to Judaism. Upon coming back to the USA I decided to convert to Judaism abroad.

If you remember from the opening chapters of my book, my year I’d spent in Israel had not been a particularly wonderful point in my life. The van Ouwerkerks made a miserable end to that year. Their saga could have been one of Christian forgiveness and brotherhood, but they were determined that such a thing would never happen. There was no Electrochemical Girl. There never had been. There never would be. As far as I was concerned, those guys could have the place. However, I just didn’t like a decision being on my record there calling me an illegal immigration risk who could not enter the country without applying for a visa. My thinking was that if I ever wanted to go back there, it would be short term, to talk to a friend there, to do something with Jews there, etc. I wanted the ability to hop on a plane and go there like anyone else.

So, I hired a lawyer to appeal the decision made at the airport. I paid $3,000. Apparently, not long after opening my case, Israel changed the way it handled this sort fo thing, and the appeal process would ultimately be a lot more expensive than $3,000, but my firm kept with it at that price, kind of grandfathering me in. That was a fortunate event, it seems. It was just about the only fortunate event involved with this. And with that sentence, I’ll talk a bit about some other things that happened to me upon arrival back at home.

So, remember, as the story goes, in 2021 I went to Spain to look for a publisher for my book and to visit my rabbi in Safed in Israel. COVID was causing travel problems, so I tried to ensure I would be able to enter Israel by getting a visa from the consulate in Madrid. The consulate was non-functional. So I went to visit my friend Bucky in Serbia and see what was going on with the consulate there. It was also non-functional. So I decide to just go to Israel without a visa and get deported for being an illegal immigration risk. I decide to screw it all and convert to Judaism in the USA, so I head home to Scottsdale.

Immediately as I was landing, Caterpillar (my daughter Alia) and X-23 (Chloe, my daughter’s best friend, and a very close friend to me as well) got into a horrible fight. Caterpillar moved out. I was caught in the crossfire. Chloe didn’t want to see me, was rough with me at times, and started avoiding me more and more. As of today I barely get a text from her every month or two.

Remember how important to me she is, Wilson. You’ve read my book. Like, if the whole world hates me, but Chloe loves me, the whole world can go to hell. Well, that crutch was taken away.

Then of course you have during this time the chief telling me that according to true Christian doctrine, I cannot have a divine calling, and there can be nothing special about Jews or Israel. So Chloe vanished, and the Chief was preaching, but that didn’t compare to my time with my parents.

Now keep in mind, I have gone home to stay with parents three or four times as an adult. I had some trouble getting along with my step-dad as a teenager, but otherwise we’ve gotten along. Likewise I had some trouble with my dad, my biological one, in 2002 while having a hard time finding a job during George H.W. Bush recession that year, but otherwise I haven’t had a problem with him in my life. I have never, and I mean NEVER, had a problem with my mother in my life, as a child, as an adult, when things were going well for me, when things were not going well for me. But this time, something was different.

Keep in mind that I did not come home to the US to stay with my mother and stepfather because I was having trouble or short on money or anything. I came back and stayed with them because I was deciding on where to settle permanently, and we were all planning on going to Mexico during the summer together.

Also keep in mind that my mother and step-dad have been retired for a number of years now. They have three houses, and most of their time and energy and money is spent on maintaining those houses, remodeling those houses, furnishing those houses, etc. That’s what they think about: how to live in a house.

So when I got there, they were quick to tell me that I was talking on the floor wrong, sitting in the chair wrong, eating from the spoon wrong, drinking from the wrong glass, putting my towel in the wrong place, etc. But things went further. My step-father could not have a conversation with me without asking me fifty million questions. Questions that nobody would know the answer to. “Hey, I just got this cup of coffee!” “Yeah? How many molecules of coffee are in that cup? How many degrees Kelvin is it?” Stuff not too far off from that. Like every conversation was designed to force me to say “I don’t know” five hundred times.

I talk about Filth Pig Sock Puppets. Again, I am not calling these guys filt pigs. That’s a nickname I have for evil spirits. Godless trends. Demons. The Filth Pig Sock Puppet is someone who just does whatever the evil spirits want. Usually they don’t acknowledge that such spirits exist, so the demons can pretty much have their way with them. I’ve been explaining this concept against the backdrop of these interactions with the government of Israel, but I’m adding the van Ouwerkerks, the Chief, and now my own family. My own Chloe and my own mother who gave me birth.

This isn’t about some hatred I have for Israeli bureacrats, Wilson. It’s a lesson in how Satan can use anyone, Jew, Christian, Israeli, American, to attack his enemies, the servants of God such as myself.

So coming back home from my trip to Israel, pretty much broken, I found that home wasn’t really home. The evil spirits had infested everyone, my mother included. Everyopne I knew abandoned me, or welcomed me into their arms in order to whisper sweetly into my ears that I was a worthless fuckup, incapable of properly drinking orange juice from a glass. Except for Alia, that is. She actualy kept me going through all this. Did I say it was a tough time, Wilson?

So that’s the state I was in when I was going through this appeal. And the appeal wasn’t fun. Nothing happened for a long time, so I got in touch with my lawyer, complaining a bit. His answer? They want me to send them this, but I already sent it to them. They want me to explain this to them, but I already did. That kind of stuff.

Sound familiar, Wilson? Remember the chicks on the border with Jordan. Just asking me questions over and over and over again until I messed up and said something that would let them stripsearch me. Remember the guy at the Ben Gurion airport, Wilson? Just asking me questions over and over and over again until I said something that would let him deport me. I could see they were doing the same with my lawyer. So there was no reason for me to be an illegal immigration risk to Israel? Keep asking my laywer questions until I am!

That’s Satan’s modus operandi, Wilson. When everything is fine, and they ask you a simple question, and you give them a simple answer, and that should be the end of it, but it isn’t, you have a demon on your ass, Wilson. That’s my protip for today.

Finally, after months of delays, my layer said they were asking for a statement from me personally. That’s never a good sign. It shouldn’t take a lot of song and dance to figure out that an American with a six-figure salary who comes from an affluent family with multiple houses all over the country is not going to illegally immigrate to Israel to suck every last shekel from the economy. I had signed a power-of-attorney with my lawyer giving him the authority to speak for me in all matters because I am entirely to real and frank and forward to be forced to participate in tribal dynamics.

But, in compliance with my laywer’s recommendations, I did write a statement for the court. And it was frank. Ultimately it said that the only thing the court needed to do was to determine if I was an illegal immigration risk as had been determined by the guy at ben Gurion.

The result was what one would expect from a scene about a prophet being eaten by the dogs of Ahab: “This court concurs with the decision of the Filth Pig Sock Puppet at Ben Gurion Airport that Jonathan Bailey is an illegal immigration risk because Jonathan Bailey is a legal immigration risk.”

Yup, that’s what they said. If you read what it’s really saying. Simply stating somewhere, or saying something that could be construed to the effect that one might actually like Israel, thinking you might have something to do long term there, or that you might even want to stay there, is apparently grounds to consider someone an illegal immigration risk.

So that appeal failed, Wilson. Along with the crap with Chloe and my parents and the the Chief, I was just locked out of Israel. Now I have another story or two to tell you about this time, but I am not exactly sure if I will write it up now or later, Wilson. There is another leg of this saga to describe, and I am still working out how to fit it all in. But hey, we are up to episode five. That’s an achievement!

So the story will unfold with yet more installments, but for this one, I want to say a couple of things to clarify what I am getting at here. The law of probability does not exist, Wilson. We are living in a story with an author. That story is going to have a variety of highs and lows, and there will be a lot of lessons to be learned from the events in our lives. Now I want to tell you, if you really decide to stand against the dark forces that run this world and carry a torch for the almighty God, this world will rise up against you. It will do so from places you’d never expect. The daughter you love will run away. The mother who gave you birth will shit in your face. And the government of the Holy Land will stamp DENIED in your passport. But from your end, you will finally see what is going on. You’ll finally see the spirit that controls everyone and everything, whether they be Christian or Jew or atheist. None of it will comport with reason. Everything will be clear: you are now being hunted as an enemy soldier from an enemy army because you love God.

And that’s really all I can say with this amount of beer in my belly, Wilson. Yeah, this is a draft. I am sure to revisit it at another time. You guessed it, I am rushing these posts for a particular purpose. But for now I am just going to head back to the hotel and say a prayer that you’re starting to understand what I’m saying, Wilson. If you’re confused, call me and I’ll see what I can do to clarify. But for now, I’ll just stagger back to my bed. Later, yo.

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