Universal Principles

“So you believe what you’re saying and this isn’t just a work of fiction?”

I was the guest appearing on the Franklin Pierce Show. I was a big fan. It was an honor for me to sit at the fake news desk and trade verbal musings with a master. Of course, I had a few zingers up my sleeve, I’m the original dude (OD).

“You should know that I’ve been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder and I personally claim to be a professional bullshit artist.” They bleeped that out in post production.

“So this isn’t true.”

“I didn’t say that.”

The large camera man blinked twice and swallowed hard. I could hear him and I noticed his glare. He almost sneered at me.

A woman in the front row was shaking her head. Her eyes were definitely angry. I’ve seen that look before. Before someone was about to kill me, again. I’ve been beheaded, disemboweled, electrocuted, drowned, and – among other things – crucified, twice. You name it, I’ve experienced that sort of death.

Death and pain are nothing to fear.

The host paused for a moment as if to consider his next move. Then he struck, “So you’re implying that you’re the present incarnation of our Savior, the Lord.”

“Yes and no.”

“Which is it?”

I just love to spread the Good News. Unfortunately, they always hate to hear it. I did come; I have come; I will come. This is the first time I’ve been able to speak freely in front of such a large audience. How will I put this? I’ve got to be very crafty or this life will end too quickly.

“There was no one named ‘Jesus Christ,’ but I was him and now I sit before you.”

“So you have returned and the world is about to end?! Should I sell my stocks? Maybe we should end the show right now and let these people get to their families.”

And then, “Joseph, I know Jesus Christ and you’re no Jesus Christ,” recalling then Vice Presidential candidate, Lloyd Bentsen.

The crowd went wild and cheered and laughed and pointed and shouted. It was rejoicing and rebuking beyond what was seemly, considering the subject matter, in my humble opinion.

The host let the thunder subside and then continued, “So…”

I interrupted with a smile, “Tough room!”

There were a couple of chuckles; Pierce was irritated.

It was a tough room.

My name is Joseph Michael Winett and I am the present incarnation of who you call Jesus Christ, but I am also so much more. Continue, dear reader, and I will provide you with all my keys – the keys to unlocking your past and destiny; the keys to our eternal salvation.

First, a note about the name, Jesus: it’s the translation of the Hebrew name, Yeshua, and it’s a common name, like Joe or Tom. We chose it to pass along the idea that the savior could be anyone – just an average guy who assumed the big shoes. “You see, being the One is just like being in love, you just know it, balls to bones.”

Wait, what do I mean by, “we chose it?”

Friend, the story of Jesus is a legend written by a few good people to pass along ideals without having to hit you over the head. You see, at the time, ideals were passed on by conquering the masses. We passed along some great stuff without killing but just one person. We generated a huge political payload with little pain to the common man and woman.

More about me and my friends in a bit. Right now, I need to tell you about our Father.

He’s absolutely real. He is The Creator. And, He’s your Father, too. Your soul was torn from His side in the beginning of time and you have existed in His Universe since the inception. I was who you call Jesus, the Son of God, the Son of Man, the Lamb, the Lion, all that, but I’m not special. I am just a man with a soul given to him by God. I am the original writer. I was the original artist. I painted in the caves. I uttered the first words.

But, you did, too. More later.

Contrary to popular belief, God is not self-important or otherwise absorbed. He’s a humble dude (can you believe it?!?). He doesn’t demand your worship, He doesn’t demand your thanks, He doesn’t demand anything from you except that you be the best person you can be – always and without fail – because you represent Him to His peers and He is counting on you not to embarrass Him at dinner. But, He appreciates your simple gratitude for what you have – your intellect, your love, your charity, your pride – all features of your soul which He gave you so long ago.

Please take a moment now to kiss your children and say a little prayer of thanks for them and their love.

Love is an invention of God, made for our enjoyment. He shines on High for our enjoyment. Revel in His Love and pass It on.

I have millions of children and grandchildren – so do you. I love each of them in their own special way, even the ones with bad behavior who deny my existence and that of our Father.

In your life, with your children, could you ever cast them out for being bad?

What makes you think our Father would do the same?

Do you believe in Hell? Why? Because someone wrote the wrong things in a book, so long ago?

You see, the people who wrote those words you worship were (and are) not perfect. We’re still here, rewriting the story, to better serve you and Him, our Father, who art in Heaven.

For instance, I was misquoted in the statement, “I am the way, the truth, and the life, and no one comes to the Father but by me.” It should read, “I have shown you the way, the truth, and the life, and no one comes to the Father but by emulating me.” But even this is not completely correct. It’s skewed a bit from the truth in order to manipulate you to do good works.

Really, everyone comes to the Father whenever they want. He has all the time in the Universe and He can make a little for you!! Isn’t that fantastic?!

But wait, what about sin? More on sin later.

Finally, before we continue with the television show, a note about Worship and then one about Time.

Worship: As I said, I’m just a man, a dude with his pulse on the world. I don’t deserve your worship any more than your favorite grocer does – he has his pulse on the produce.

Thank your grocer for the fine veggies and thank me for these words.

You can help by spreading the Good News. Perhaps you could buy a couple of extra books to distribute to your friends. Perhaps you could tell my stories to your children. Perhaps you could enjoy an extra day at the beach and say a little prayer thanking our Father for the beautiful day.

Time: It’s all relative, baby. Einstein was one of the original dudes and is one of my friends. For instance, you and I are sharing moments right now that others are missing. The more you concentrate on what you’re doing and the more you exercise your brain, the more time you are spending in between the clock ticks. When people mindlessly carry on with their tasks, they skip ticks, hence the term, “Time flies…”

Here is a hint: The more time you spend thinking, the longer this life is because lifespan is measured in thoughts and not in seconds. So spend every moment meditating on your thoughts, or mine, or God’s, and you will live a longer and fuller life.

Now, spread the love before continuing, okay?

Not long ago was what I call, My Awakening. It was a series of weeks where I became aware of my past and my destiny. It was very difficult and I tried to lean on others for help. That didn’t work out so well. I’ll tell you about my struggles later in this volume6, but now I want to pass along a story about the young mother and the little girl on a windy day.

You see, I was expending a great amount of energy during my meditation on a walk outside. The heat I was generating was really incredible – it was uncomfortable to say the least. To make matters worse, the day was a stunning, beautiful, and sunny one;7 but the sunshine was warming my skin a little too much for my taste.

In a few moments of selfishness, I blew the wind to cool my skin and my head. It felt fantastic, so I blew the wind a little harder.

I was walking by a hamburger joint at the corner of 27th and Memorial in Tulsa, Oklahoma, on an April day in 2008, around noon, when I saw a young mother and her three-year-old come out after having lunch.

They were on foot, like me, so I smiled to myself and took notice and rejoiced in appreciation of their journey.

But, I was blowing the wind so forcefully that the little girl was being blown down, again and again.

What I noticed was that every time the wind blew the little girl down, her mother would yell at her to get up.

The mother did not assist the little girl. She didn’t hold her hand, she didn’t say words of encouragement, she just yelled for the girl, “Get yourself up!”

I wondered what lesson was to be learned.

Did the mother want the little girl to be self sufficient or did she want the little girl to learn she couldn’t always count on her mother?

Please always pick your kids up. Brush them off, pat them on the bottom, and tell them you love them and you’ll always be there to help them.

Your children always need you just as you always need your parents.

Consider please that you also need our Father.

Franklin Pierce just said, “So…” waiting for my answer to the question of the world’s end.

You see, Christians believe that the return of Jesus Christ means the world is coming to an end and all should repent immediately or forever hold their peace, so to speak.

“Tough room,” I responded, like a comedian who found the crowd unresponsive.

Then I explained, “Of course the world is not ending. We ride in this Universe by grace of our Father and He is without beginning and without end – timeless, perfect, and wonderful.”

Apparently a couple from Nebraska heard me and they offered up some tentative applause. They stopped immediately when they noticed it did not catch with the rest of the crowd. I appreciated the effort, though, and I make a special note of them here.

Whoa, wait a second here, what do I mean by “their universe?” Aren’t we living in our Father’s Universe?

We live in a number of universes at the same time. You see, your personal universe is based between your ears. Your children live in your universe just as you live in your Father’s universe. Your universe is what you make of it. It can be heaven on Earth or hell and damnation. Be kind to those around you and you will be hailed and thanked just as you should hail and thank your Father for what He has created for you to enjoy.

Your present reality is an agreement between your version of the facts and the Fathers’.9 By the Law of Free Will, the Father does not impose His views on you. If you want pink skies, you can have them. You just don’t know it yet.

I was hoping to break the tension with a little levity of my own.

“Thank you!” I yelled at the crowd in a sarcastic voice, to really thank the Kujaks, poke fun at the crowd, and make myself feel better. It was difficult to muster the right tone to do all that, but I am the OD.

Pierce seemed lost for a moment; he adjusted his glasses; then he said, “So, you’re a mental patient of some sort?”

“Well, I’m definitely a patient, but I’m not mental. I have been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, which is a mood disorder featuring an oscillation between lows and highs through a series of weeks. But, Franklin – may I call you Franklin?”

“No.”

I ignored him. “I maintain that Bipolar and, specifically, mania – the extreme highs some bipolars experience from time to time – are adaptations of the human race and should not be suppressed, normally.”

“But don’t some ‘bipolars,’ as you call them, get themselves into trouble while manic, like going to Vegas, giving away all their money, and getting naked on the Blackjack table?”

The crowd chuckled.

Then he added, chuckling himself, “I mean, it stays in Vegas, but the scars come home with you.”

The crowd laughed outright.

“A lot of normal people scar themselves up in Vegas!”

The crowd continued to laugh. I was making headway, at least riding Pierce’s coattails.

I added, “Like I said, mania should not be suppressed, normally. Some people do require doses of mood stabilization to stay out of dangerous manias and avoid hospitalization.”

Pierce smiled, “You’re no stranger to the booby hatch yourself, are you?”

I grinned back, from ear to ear. “No sir! I’ve been committed seven times in four years. I’m not embarrassed to talk about it if you have some questions.”

“Oh, and you know I do, Joseph!

“You say in your book – I’m told, because I haven’t actually read it – that the first time you were admitted to a hospital, you were picked up for trespassing on a radio station’s property in Tulsa, Oklahoma – your home town. When was that and why were you there?”

I continued to smile. “I drove down there while I was on hold waiting to debate the morning talk show host about Universalism versus Christianity.”

“On hold?”

“Yes, the call screener at KFAQ – uh, that’s the station – doesn’t and never has liked anything I have to say – I’m a frequent caller – and he had me on permanent hold. He straight up told me that I was not going to be put on the show, but I held anyway. He probably enjoyed that.

“Then I had the bright idea of driving down there. It turned out to be the right thing to do.”

Pierce quipped, almost interrupting, “But you got busted and locked up in a mental hospital for three weeks!” He was enjoying this, ”In your book, you say that led to the downfall of your business! Wouldn’t it have been better to wait on hold?”

“No, no, the visit to the mental hospital was a mini-awakening for me. It was the first time I tried out the word “messiah” with other people and I found out quickly how people would react.”

“So you told them you were The Messiah?”

“No, I told them I was ‘a messiah’ with a little ‘m.’”

“Okay, a messiah, but still, that’s pretty crazy.”

“The doctors would agree with you – some of them seemed pretty angry with me, being religious, I guess – and they immediately ordered medication. I ended up with a shot within a couple of hours of being admitted.”

“A shot?! Doesn’t everyone get a shot? I mean, you are in the hospital?”

“No, usually people just take pills. Shots are for people who need action more quickly or strongly than pills provide.

“You see, I got into an argument over using the phone and being in the hallway with a tech – they’re the people who really take care of you in the hospital – a mental health technician. You’re not supposed to be hanging around in the hall and using the phone at certain times, but I was trying to manage my business and was generally pissed off.

“I forcefully mouthed off to the tech and ended up being carried by my shoulders to my room.

“Before they hauled me off, they stopped at the nurses station for the loaded syringe. I saw it and pulled my pants down in the hallway and demanded the shot right there in front of the other patients. Apparently, that’s against some sort of policy, or they just didn’t like my butt, so they hauled me to my room and shot me up with the good stuff.”

Pierce and the audience laughed a bit. “With the ‘good stuff?’ So you’re in these hospitals for ‘the good stuff?’”

“It’s just a joke. I invented molecules to do magic and some of them make you feel better. ‘The good stuff’ did bring down my mania fast and I was able to get some rest. I was really hurting with racing thoughts and speech. My blood pressure was through the roof. I felt better quickly, got some sleep, and woke up refreshed. I don’t disagree that I needed the shot.

Whoa! I said that I invented molecules and then thanked our Father for them. Perhaps I should thank the Fathers. Read on, dear!

“The next day, I apologized to the tech and told him how sorry I was that he had to give me the shot.

“He told me the shot was already ordered anyway because of my state. He was sincerely concerned for me and I could tell. That’s when I decided to generally respect the techs and pay attention to what they wanted.

“Only a couple of times in the future did I have conflicts with techs. I document all those conflicts in the book in order to illustrate some of the pitfalls of being a tech – they have lots of power and sometimes they get caught up in the trip.”

“Interesting. Of course, as I said, I haven’t actually read your book…”

The crowd chuckled.

“…but I would like to hear a little more about your call to the Secret Service this last year – oh that was a smart move – after this commercial break. Let’s pay some bills!”

And the band played.

A note about my Mother and pink skies: No one made sunny days like my Mother, Cathryn. The skies were pink and the clouds were always the fluffy ones. The rain was always gentle. The air smelled sweet like honeysuckle and the bees always buzzed along without bothering you.

You could play with ants and not get bitten.

You could sit in the sunshine all day and not get burned.

You could nap all afternoon and all your dreams were good ones.

The ice cream man came every day and the ice cream only melted enough to be tasty and never dripped on your arm.

Lunch was always baloney-cheese-loaf, but I loved it because She made it for me.

I loved my Mother.

My mother died on my birthday four years ago. At the time, I didn’t know it, but her death was a gift to me.

Now I know that my mother was finally comfortable and on to her new life.

My Mother taught me all sorts of important things: How to walk, to feed myself, to talk, to write stories and produce movies. She was cool.

I miss my Mother.

Take a moment now to call your mother, if you can. I would if I could.

Wait, maybe I can. More later.

I don’t know who came up with “killer bees,” but I’m trying to find out.

Please think along with me, if we all believe at once that killer bees are friendly, they’ll be friendly. This is the Principle of Agreement and it is the first Principle of The Universal Principles as designed by our Father.

Of course, Africanized bees really aren’t unfriendly, they’re just doing what they do to survive as they’ve been taught by their fathers and mothers. How are they taught? Through genetics, of course.

That brings up a good question: Are human beings taught through genetics as well? Of course we are, but it takes more generations to affect behavioral changes through genetics than it does through teaching your child to do the right thing.

A young girl is out playing on the lawn and walks up on a little anthill. She reaches down and plays with the ants. A few ants pinch her skin and she is hurt, she runs to her mother in pain and cries.

She never forgets the ants.

Years later, she is putting her baby boy out on the lawn, but first she looks for ants. She does find an anthill.

She considers killing the ants, but that doesn’t solve much; this is a teaching opportunity!

She shows the ants to her baby boy, but tells him over and over, “Don’t touch! They bite hard! Owie!” and she pinches the boy a little to demonstrate the ant’s ability to “bite.”

The boy does not heed the warning and plays with the ants anyway. He is pinched and runs to his mother crying.

He never forgets the ants.

Years later, he is putting his son out on the lawn and looks for ants. He finds them. He tells his son very forcefully to stay away from the ants because they will hurt him. He adds that it’s not nice to disturb the ants because they’re busy making their way in the world and if we don’t have to bother them, we shouldn’t.

His son stays away from the ants – just watching from a distance and marveling at their beauty and industriousness. He never forgets the ants.

Years later, the son teaches his daughter to love the ants and respect their space.

Teaching just took a few generations.

Now, through genetics, humans could also “learn” to avoid the ants: A mother puts her little baby next to a mound of fire ants, the baby is killed by the ants, so the mother’s genetics are not passed to another generation. Darwin wins: Was the mother smart enough? Should her genes have been passed on?

A different mother teaches her baby about the ants and that baby later reproduces. Darwin wins: That mother was smarter and her genes were passed. The future was improved.

I have nothing against Darwin. He was a smart man and he deserved to have his genes passed to his progeny. He did have ten children. Two died young, though.

Why is it that people think Darwin and evolution disprove God?

Hello Darwin, you did a great job, Mr. Smartypants.