Category Archives: Insanity

Jesus Christ Comments on the political climate of today

This nearly 2,000-year-old commentary by Jesus seems to be a valid observation of the rancor in the politics of today (no one’s happy):

“For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon.’ 19 The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a winebibber, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ But wisdom is justified by her children.” Matthew 11:18-19

Like the right and the left in the United States today; when John the Baptist came on the scene, they said he had a demon because he eschewed eating and drinking as a pleasurable past-time.

Jesus, the public accused of the crime of doing what John the Baptist didn’t do. Interesting.

Divine Insanity


Here, I offer my own bit of madness at work.

In the classical world, the phenomenon of “love at first sight” was understood within the context of a more general conception of passionate love, a kind of madness or, as the Greeks put it, Theia Mania (“madness from the gods”). -Frank Tallis “Crazy for You”

But what if God himself were the maddest of all? (I say so only from our human point of view) For if God were indeed mad, then mad would be normal and the loftiest goal to aspire to.

Some say God’s mad as in angry; I know it’s not true,
But, perhaps God still is the maddest of all.
Divinely Mad,
Madly Divine,

Omnipotent Madness shaped us stable and sound,
All things in our power, save for one little tree.

One little tree that would bring us to be,
Broken and marred, ashamed and weighed down.
Yet, Omnipotent Madness, never left town.

Wallowed in mire, we were tragic in deed,
‘till the Madness of God, Hung His Son on a tree.

Bleeding and dying, the whole world in His sight,
Forgive them! He cried, ‘till, He suffered and died.

Wrapped in white linen he lay in the tomb,
Three days in the dark as hope slipped away,
None could remember this mind-boggling promise.

“Give me three days, and you’ll see me again.”

So, our story’s not over,
Wait there’s still more,

Omnipotent Madness made a decree,

“Raise Him again and let the whole world see!”

So, in Power and Glory, Christ rose from His grave.
Five-hundred and more, saw, touched, and felt.
Mary thought him a gardener,
Yet, you still won’t believe?

What will it take for the truth you to see?
Divinity died for you and for me.

Perhaps for a good man, some would dare die,
But ragged old sinners, cast offs and lame?
It’s hard to believe that God could be sane.

-M. Matheson revised 2016

I welcome your thoughts and comments, but please, if you want a theological argument, consider my madness and then move along.


…and the Smell of Old Leather

What is it with the smell of old leather? Do you love it or hate it?
Knowing me as a lover of words, Nichole, one of my five daughters (read ’em and weep (5)gifted me a new journal for Christmas. All of those daughters are in their thirties and some are watching forty loom ever closer. I have journal’s dating back to when most of them were in Middle School.
This new journal is leather-covered and smells grand.

Hi, my name is Mike. I am a journal keeper and leather smeller.
Journal keeping is becoming ever scarcer these days. Perhaps rare, only because they/we are often driven underground by mock and ridicule, seen as nerds choosing hovels and holes over the bright sunlight or hypnotic glare of a big flatscreen TV.
Electronic journal keeping has not won me over to the dark side – yet. Everything else can go electronic, and it has, but you will not get my paper and ink journal until you pry it from my cold dead hands.
Not to worry, I have fully embraced electronics, typing this blog post on my Mac over Starbucks Wifi, checking my iPhone for Twitter updates and feeding Instagram selfies via my iPad. Quick call the shrink; I am one sick puppy. Although, if I am sick, you better bring a big bus; there are a lot of us here.
Perhaps the feeling of legacy or durability drives my desire to see ink applied to paper by my hand. In a dark corner of my needy mind, my hope is that when I am dead and gone, some as yet unborn descendant will be crazy enough to dig through my effects and find a lasting nugget or two from the chronicles of my crazy life.
I love the smell of leather, mostly old leather. Searching the subject on Google, I found much to my disappointment that the smell is from the chemicals used to preserve the animal hide. Up until then, my brimming imagination pictured old pioneers stripping hides from majestic Bison and cattle to provide me with an olfactory treat.
The smell of leather promises danger and adventure, something that I lived a lot of in my younger more infamous days. During my outlaw biker days, the leather jacket was a second skin, and though I hate to admit it – GIANT MAN PURSE. Its pockets were full of carburetor parts, weapons and other illegal substances. Up until I experienced an awakening in Christ, there was even a new Gospel of John tucked away in one of the myriad pockets. The thing (the jacket) weighed a ton, and I loved its smell which was a lethal mix of whiskey, blood, oil, gasoline and sweat.
The odor of leather proffers the dream of big adventure much like reading a crime novel or riding a big motorcycle from the comfort of your living room chair.
Boil it down, and sniffing leather is a lot like reading a book, albeit fiction, but a book nevertheless.
And there you have it.
M. Matheson

The Taxman is Here

A name that releases ubiquitous fear within adults of tax paying age and income is THE TAXMAN. This also is the name of my new short story.

Kenneth Selznick is an auditor with the IRS, he is 41 years of age and still lives at home with MOTHER, Malvina the Malevolent. This arrangement has produced an insanity within Kenneth that preys upon the happy world around him. His twisted brand of joy comes from auditing returns and watching good honest people bleed slowly to death. The more honest and happy, the more he enjoys the kill. The tables in this short tale continuously turn as Kenneth’s fortunes twist and turn.

That’s all you’ll get about the tale without reading the story except for a little background.
The original idea for this story came from a real audit of my wife and I. If you’ve had the misfortune to be audited, you know the grief that it can bring no matter how level and straight your records have been. There is no shortage of myth, true or false, and lore surrounding the Internal Revenue Service’s ravaging of the peace of common citizens.
When my wife and I were audited several years back, we knew we had done our due diligence, yet the fear remained. Our biggest worry was how much this was going to cost us. Well, weren’t we surprised to learn we would be getting money back, a lot of money, and it was the IRS that had made the error. I’m sure that does not happen often.
I hope you enjoy my story which couldn’t have been made possible without the beta reading, advice, edits and big suggestions to the storyline by Melinda Matthews.
Please check out her Amazon Author page and follow her Twitter page.