(part 264) MODERATORS OF DECENCY AND PROGRESS

In 1987 I was no longer The person I had been in L.A., London, New York City, or even Nashville. Almost no one on the central coast knew anything about my past in the music business. That shield was gone, and I was, for the first time since 1963, just another person in a town of run of the mill persons. I became acutely aware of what it is like to be average. Whereas once I had been a somebody of sorts I was now just a full-fledged nobody, and if you think I'm overstating it, you ought to try it sometime.

The average-joe syndrome is a mighty leveler in small-town USA. My past had been riddled with small-town thinking from back in my Arizona days, when I was scoffed at by friends for believing I had something to give to the world of music. In Grover City, CA., I was reunited, in spades, with the any-town USA sledge hammer of nationalistic yahooism and religious zealotry as it was spoon fed to me with a shovel.

It would be difficult at best for some to understand the absolute shock to the system that this was, unless they were clear on where my past had actually taken me. But for those who insist that I was always a nobody, they, I'm sure, will frame what I am talking about here as no more than me being forced to grow up and admit the truth to myself.

The history of a person, any person, is their history. It cannot be altered simply because others don't want to believe it. Collectively, people can rob a person of that history publicly to some degree, but the reality is, a person's history will always belong to them. The altering, and/or rewriting of an individual's experiences, is a technique devised and used by some to steal a person's identity and recreate that person in an image preferable to the thieves.

Threats of physical violence and incarceration, along with collective community shunning of a group or individual, are techniques designed for the purpose of ridding and/or controlling a different group or individual by those who fancy themselves in authority over others. This is what I encountered, and still do, on the central coast of California. It is a tactic of dismissing and rebuking those looked down on, or disagreed with, and a practice as old as the country itself. It has been used repeatedly, since our inception, to relegate some into obscurity, for the benefit of others. It is our history as a nation, and cannot be altered as our history, by simply sugar coating it, lying about it, dismissing it, or rewriting it.

I am who I am, not because I say so, but because of what my life experiences have been in reality. I endeavor to put forth the facts as they actually exist, irrespective of what they paint, good or bad, as a portrait of the human person known as Bobby Jameson. It matters not a whit to me, whether some are bothered by what I say here, because what I say here is my attempt to be as forthcoming as I possibly can. No one is completely clean or completely unclean. No one escapes the truth, whatever it is, in the long run. We are all subject to failures and successes in our lifetimes.

My encounters with human beings are my encounters, not yours. My decisions and consequences are mine whether you like them, believe them, or agree with them. What I did, and do, has nothing to do with you, other than I am here sharing it with you. For individuals to become so involved with my work here that it causes them to make contact with me and demean or threaten me is exemplary as a model of what I'm talking about.

In short, I am saying that there are people in this country who will use any and all means to make their little communities splendid, but only splendid for the chosen ones, and it is the chosen ones who decide that they are chosen. They proclaim their own righteousness, while having little, and abuse the system to their own benefit. What I say here is going on all over the country, as well as the rest of the world. People, fed up with the authoritarian ass-whipping handed out by the so-called moderators of decency and progress. There is nothing decent or progressive about it, and the tide is shifting...

(part 263) WITH PREJUDICE

Writing about myself and the things that I did and the reactions to them by others, are at times painful to expose in public. But having embarked on this part of my story, after much reluctance, I find myself having to provide details that I would just as soon not give you, but for the fact that they are specific to the choices I made because of them.

Much of what happened to me was brought on by what I myself did or didn't do at any given time. It is obvious that many of my choices and actions caused me difficulty, that goes without saying, but on the other hand I was confronted by the reactions of many around me, which at times bordered on overt harassment.

As I tried to portray in the previous post, the overkill was palpable, and placed me in a flee or fight dilemma that had to be reconciled one way or another. Strangely, my decision was to stay and fight back as hard as I could, I assume because I was tired of leaving places when things got truly difficult. I became, for lack of a better description, a Jessie James/Billy The Kid like character who knew I was guilty of some things, but never as guilty as those around me tried to make out.

I was represented by a public defender, Kevin McReynolds, at trial, and convicted of a misdemeanor. Following that, I borrowed money to mount an appeal to overturn the conviction. During that process, I became aware that my attorney, James Murphy, was involved in a back room decision with the prosecutor, David Pomeroy, to shut out the possibility of an appeal with prejudice. That simply means he made a deal with the prosecutor, without my knowledge or permission, to kill my right to appeal forever. Upon learning of this, I stormed into my attorney's office and confronted him on the issue, which he sheepishly admitted he had no right to do.

So this was the atmosphere I was faced with. An outsider trying to deal with insiders who all knew each other. I was the odd man out and expendable from every angle by all concerned. The fly in the ointment became the fact that I was not only aware of what was going on, but told each of them to their face that I knew, while continuing to stand my ground. Later, I made friends with the primary police officer involved. He apologized to me in a Circle-K parking-lot, from his squad car window, saying he regretted being part of it.

I fulfilled each obligation placed on me as a result of this episode, until completed. At that point, I both publicly and frequently voiced my opinion about what I thought of each of the parties involved: the Grover City Court, the attorneys, the jury, and the judge. I knew that I'd lost in part, but in the long run had won over some of my harshest adversaries.

(part 262) HOW FAR WERE THEY WILLING TO GO

In posting the mercy church section 261, I thought it a good example of an attitude exhibited by some in this community. For me, it is a stark reminder of the ever-growing and cumulative effect of evangelical christianity being woven into the fabric of the social, business, and governmental environment of San Luis Obispo County.

Almost immediately after posting this, I was besieged by members of other local christian churches saying that mercy church is a cult, to which I responded, "No shit!" But to me it is like the pot calling the kettle a cult, much like the Baptist pastor saying that Mormonism is a cult.

This is about people who have chosen a belief system that in their mind allows, if not demands, that they judge anything and everything by their own personal take on acceptability and unacceptability according to their church and its doctrine. It is this kind of logic, or lack thereof, that creates a hostile atmosphere for those whose names are not present on the evangelical rosters of local officialdom.

For all of the time I have lived on the central coast, from 1985 until now, I have rarely felt like I belonged here or was welcome here. It has been more like standing firm against the enemy than enjoying my life in paradise. In 1987, I was surrounded at gunpoint in the middle of Grand Ave. in Grover City by six police cars. To the onlooker it appeared that the local cops had snagged a major criminal in broad daylight on the streets of their fair city. In truth I was stopped and jailed for the misdemeanor crime of indecent exposure within the confines of my own house, which I was later convicted of by a jury of my so-called peers, and where my mother, who was a key witness, was not allowed to testify in my behalf.

The line drawn in the sand by this event is more than an indication of the "in your face" willingness by the locals to make use of all that they had at their disposal, to clarify their will in the minds of undesirables such as myself. Rather than "put me in my place," this event signaled to me the necessity for careful calculation in appraising exactly what I was up against.

I was warned repeatedly, at my home, by uniformed officers, that their desire was to see me put in CMC, a major California prison located in San Luis Obispo. This was not a vague threat, it was said to me directly in the driveway of my home after I refused to move out of my house at their request. In furtherance of their overt harassment, they took to parking a police car out in front of my house on multiple occasions. When I finally had had it with their blatant attempts to intimidate me, I called the police station and angrily demanded that they come over and arrest me, or "move that fucking police car away from my house!" It was a game of who's gonna blink first.

CMC The California Men's Colony in San Luis Obispo, CA.

I knew I was in a war of wills, but I also knew they had nothing they could charge me with. If they wanted to arrest me for yelling at them on the phone, so be it. If they wanted to make something up, go ahead. It was a standoff of sorts, and they knew it. They learned that I was not going to buckle, no matter what they did. To get rid of me was going to take an invention of a crime, and the question became, "Just how far were they willing to go?"

CANVAS OF OUR DREAMS

I painted with Vincent beneath the moaning
windmill on the Dutch plain...

We drank wine and feasted on fresh bread
and sweet cheese...

We colored the sky in brilliant blue and
scrolled white clouds across the canvas
of our dreams...

We laughed and spoke of
nights in Paris...

Bobby Jameson Oct 11, 2011

(part 261 ) MERCY CHURCH SAN LUIS OBISPO

click to enlarge

This is some local christian zealotry from San Luis Obispo, which pervades this entire area. It has become normalized in a way that I find particularly worrisome. Below is one author's take on this church in SLO where I live.

It is his discussion of what had been said about the G12 model, and the possible cult-like abuses that may or may not be occurring in G12 churches.

It is the author's outline of what he called a positive experience visiting Mercy Church , a G12 church in San Luis Obispo. http://www.wholereason.com/2009/07/g12-churches-cults-or-discipleship-with-a-plan-part-iii.html

In this part, He, the author, discusses the G12 model in detail, as to the various roles and stages that a person can progress through in the G12 system.

Most of what he has documented below is from The Ladder of Success, written by G12 founder Cesar Castellanos.

As you will see, the G12 model is a complex, well-developed and thoughtful model on how to create and reproduce mature believers.

At the highest level, there are four main progressive phases:

Win - win someone to Christ
Consolidate - help the new convert solidify their decision and join a cell group
Disciple - help an attendee develop into a mature follower of Christ
Send - help the Disciple become a Leader and Discipler of others

A. The progress and stages of the person across the G12 process

Newborn - a person who attends the Sunday meeting, an event, or a cell group, and asks Christ into their life (that is, they have completed Phase 1: Win)
Cell Member - as the first part of the Consolidation phase (Phase 2),a Consolidator follows up with new converts, and supports them in starting their new life, which includes getting them into the fellowship of a cell group.
Cell Leader - during a member’s first year, they are encouraged to take the next step in Consolidation, which includes attending a weekend retreat, and following that, participating in the School of Leaders, which prepares them to be spiritual mentors and cell group facilitators. Half way through the School, they can facilitate a cell group.
Consolidator - once you are a cell leader, you have the opportunity to get trained as a Consolidator, who follows up with new converts, helping them, befriending them, and getting them to join a cell group on a regular basis. This requires some low-level pastoral skills, including kindness, patience, and persistence, as well as the ability to answer basic doctrinal questions. This step is not required as part of the progression, and can be done any time between becoming a Cell Leader and becoming a G12 Leader.
Disciple - when a person is ready to move from being a Cell Leader to a part of the G12 Vision (reaching the lost through the ‘Government of 12′), they become someone’s Disciple. This entails completing the School of Leaders and committing to be one of a G12 Leader’s “12″. I have a feeling that, once you start the SOL and become a Cell Leader, the pressure or influence to continue on to being a G12 Disciple (“finishing what you started”) may be present, and perhaps formidable.

G12 Leader - Being a G12 Disciple means that you have bought into the G12 Vision, and so, having so committed, you are probably irreversibly on the path to not only being discipled, but beginning the process of gathering your own 12 Disciples. Once you are 2/3 through the School of Ministry (the next phase of schooling), you are prepared to start selecting your 12. This may take time, and is not a ‘choose all at once’ process. You start with a couple and take your time learning to love, serve, and care for your 12.

144 Teacher - Once your 12 Disciples have 12 of their own Disciples, you have 144 people under you following Jesus with all of their hearts – or that’s the idea. NOW, you can attend the School of Teachers, and learn to do things like Visioneering, Pastoring, and leading many of the program’s retreats like the Encounter weekends.
Before I move on to the G12 Process and Training, some observations about the above roles.

Cell Member - I, the author, suspect that many people could just stay at this level, attending cell group and Sunday church, and never enter into the ‘Vision.’ My, the author, understanding is that the content for the Cell Group Bible studies is NOT indoctrination into the G12 system, but plain old bible studies, and there may be plenty of freedom in what these groups study. The Ladder of Success suggests one of Castellano’s books, but also mentions that you could use the week’s Sunday sermon (also not G12 oriented, but just plain bible teaching), or any other thing that interests your ‘homogenous’ group. More on that later. A synonym to help us understand ‘homogenous’ might be ‘affinity’ group. Members with similar interests or demographics.

Disciple - at this point, you are still part of a small group, and perhaps leading one. And you are attending the School. And perhaps meeting with your G12 Leader’s Leader. And attending Sunday church. And maybe even volunteering in one of the Church’s “Departments” (child care, worship, etc.). That could be VERY time consuming. As one critic wrote (letusreason.org)The G12 system has numerous strict standards. In order to be part of the vision, you are expected to be dedicated, attend your cell group once a week, go to retreats, go out to evangelize, go the Sunday morning service and also attend special meetings with your leader’s leader. Each week is surrounded by these church things to do, as your social activities are contained within your cell group. Your week is taken up with these meetings to attend as they make you a more serious disciple.

G12 Leader - As I, the author, mentioned above if you become a Disciple, you have bought into the vision, and are pretty much committing to becoming at least a G12 Disciple. You don’t have to go on to become a 144 Teacher, even if your 12 Disciples all get their own 12 (thereby getting you the 144 ‘downlines’ required as part of the 144 Teacher requirement). However, if one of your 12 goes on to become a G12, and then a 144, I suspect that they might no longer be one of your 12, but a Pastor in their own right, and so you would have to find a new Disciple. That’s my, the author, guess, anyway.

144 Teacher – the main advantage here is that you are now equipped to teach the critical events that move people along the pathway that you have trod – Encounters, Post-Encounters, Schools of Leaders and Ministry. Basically, they have created the self-duplicating unit. I suspect that somewhere along the line between G12 Leader and 144 Teacher, you have to go into ministry full time. But I’m, the author, not sure.

So, no real problems yet, except that such a highly structured program should make you nervous if you have any experience with highly organized spiritual organizations, including cults like Scientology.

Even the scary ‘Consolidator’ is a clearly necessary role – traditionally, we just call it someone to ‘follow up’ with a new believer. Instead of saying we are becoming somone’s “Disciple,” we could just say that we are setting up a formal mentoring program and finding a mentor.

What gives all of these things some scariness is that we, the author, know that behind all of this structure is not just the desire to help people become the best they can be, but the desire to have them adopt the G12 Vision. And what happens if you don’t want to do that?

(part 260) MY PLACE ON THE PLANET

Welcome or not, I was here and here to stay, but back in 1985 I didn't know that, in fact I had no plans to stick around. In my mind it was always a temporary situation, something I would change when I could manage it. So for the first year, I just stood my ground and carved out a place for myself amongst the locals who questioned my presence as if I were a leper in their midst. I hard-assed my way through their cliques with all the subtlety of a street fight in progress.

In the five-cities and surrounding area of San Luis Obispo County, the main theme was "We belong here and you don't." It was never vague, it was never subtle, it was always overt. It was the prevailing force that sought to eliminate anyone it collectively didn't approve of by making them feel unwanted and afraid.

The majority of locals I encountered used religion, community position, and life style, as battering rams to enforce their selections. In their way of looking at things I had nothing to offer. That was their conclusion from the beginning, and still is today in 2011. I was not, and am not, seen as a musician or artist in their midst. I was, and am, looked upon as a low life undesirable.

Because I left L.A. as a failure, in my own mind, I did not come to the Central Coast to continue my pursuit of music. To the contrary, I came here with that buried in a deep dark hole that I was tired of looking in. Back in L.A. I was Bobby Jameson, but when I got here I was simply nobody, nobody at all.

It doesn't matter what one may think about what I should have done back then, because this is the story of what I did, not what I should have done. It is difficult to write about facts when the facts, in hindsight, seem questionable at best. But still, the fact is that I approached San Luis Obispo County from the beginning as a complete and utter loser. My demeanor was more that of an outlaw reject than someone who had worked and studied in the music industry for over twenty years.

I was broke, jobless, and homeless, other than having a mother and brother in the area who chose to take me in. I had no prospects or plan for the future other than to keep breathing and survive until I made my move. My only success, as I have stated, was that I was sober and clean for nine years, so that is what I focussed on.

Because I had nowhere I was supposed to be, I spent my time going to a lot of twelve step meetings in the area, both day and night. That became my destination and purpose, to show up, and without that I would have stayed isolated and alone. It gave me a place to voice my opinion and talk about staying clean and sober through hard times. This became the crux of anything worthwhile that I may have added to this area in the twenty-seven years I have lived here.

I have returned to the subject of my arrival on the central coast of California in 1985 as a response to the email I received from Tom Leatherwood a few weeks ago, who is a local resident from Paso Robles, about 30 minutes from me. His email makes clear what I was faced with when I first came here, an attitude of "Let me tell you how it's gonna be, Boy," an attitude I rejected with all the conviction of "Doc Holiday." It was made crystal clear to me back then that I was unacceptable, and as you can plainly see it hasn't changed a lick.

I am not down on christianity, I am down on anyone who uses it as a sledge hammer against others who do not share those beliefs or agree with them, and/or the book they acquired their beliefs from. For those who believe that the bible is God's Word, I say, "Not to me it isn't." I have actually read the bible, from cover to cover, something I have found that many who claim to believe in it have not actually done. They seem more than willing to take some so-called authority's word for what is contained therein, a dangerous practice.

In my mind, I do not need anyone to translate it or tell me its meaning. It is a book written by men and touted to be the inspired word of God Himself, something I thoroughly reject. God doesn't write books, men do. I am not godless, nor am I a christian, or anything else, but I am committed to fight tyranny no matter what form it comes in. The use of the bible and its contents and prophecies is speculative at best, and a tool of control, fear, and punishment at its worst, the end result being the return of Christ and the utter annihilation of all disbelievers.

Somewhere on the central coast of California is a guy named Bobby Jameson, a guy who learned from experience that those who choose to believe blindly in anything are destined to live as hypocrites and bullies amongst others who truly seek out solutions to life's many pitfalls and temptations. The closed mind, and practice of overt judgement, issued forth by Tom Leatherwood and those like him, have been the corner stone of racism, gender discrimination, and social bullying throughout history. When some choose to follow an ideology based on theology, they cease to think for themselves and are nothing more than a mob demanding that their way is the only way.

I am here on the coast of California in San Luis Obispo as me. I am not here to listen to, or take direction from anyone, regarding what I do, or what I should or shouldn't say about anything. I am sixty-six years old, have thirty-five years of sobriety, and have learned the hard way to survive anything and everything. I have paid my dues in spades, and put no man above me, no matter who or what they claim to represent. I am Bobby Jameson and I earned my place on the planet.