"Where is the victory Jesus won"

LAST - EXIT 10/14/1989

 Melbourne, Australia Rolling Stone

"The hands that build.  Can also pull down.  Even the hands of love" U2 -  EXIT

The brutal reality of discrimination was laid bare for me, in October of 2007.  I had just arrived in Arizona, homeless, shocked, and bewildered, due to the inaction of international union leaders.  

The  perfect storm intensifed, because of my honest efforts, on overturning a recent change to hiring hall protocol.  The controversial, new local union rule, nullified procedures that had been practiced for decades.

They who preach workers rights, had failed in their own constitutional obligations.  Union executives rejected my charges on the grounds of not having been filed, within the allotted time.  The union's international office, subsequently did not provide any evidence of their own ambiguous time stamp.  However, my own recorded time stamps, are well preserved.

In my opinion the ball had been clearly in the international president's court,  Sadly I had already been forewarned.  "We lose one or two" was how the international district representative, put it to  this so-called "brother".

Arthur Gabriel Sánchez 10/14/2021 

LIVE for George Floyd 10/14/1973.. .. ..

Olivia Rodrigo Composition Book  SOUR/BRUTAL VEVO YouTube

"God, it's brutal out here" 

(Lyrics F-k)

Constellation Stars: U2 "Like Nails" 

The Joshua Tree Tours

Occasionally we may question, the certainty of predetermined fate.  Asking ourselves if, whether or not, a fateful course correction is even possible.  I can instantly recall my own desire, which then led to an aspiration; in changing the fate of one peticular  song, by U2 (the band). Lyrics from the band's song 'EXIT', were at that time infamously known for being part of a notorious, murder trial's sworn testimony.  

Could I change musical fate?  That is exactly what I intended on doing, back in 2007, when I began penning  the original, U2 EXIT SERMON: The Joshua Tree.  The goal was to cast the theme of the song, in an earlier time.  I chose the historical scene, of the 'Gunfight at the O.K. Corral'.

I thought that by staging 'EXIT" back in time, U2 would resume playing the song, perhaps with a "Wild West" twist of fate.  It would be akin to what U2 set out on doing, with regards to The Beatles own blood stained classic - 'Helter Skelter'.

  "Charles Manson stole this song from The Beatles.  We're stealing it back" is how Bono described the band's own effort on altering fate.

 U2 EXIT SERMON: The Joshua Tree, recieved only one comment, posted by a blogger identifed as Paul Hewson.  His comment was featured, on another contemporary U2 fan website, following a copied text of my U2America.Blogspot.com  creation.

The mysterious #1  comment asked the following question.  'What do you think of this essay?'  Avatar, or real thing, nonetheless, Paul Hewson's conversation with an unseen interlocutor, was later deleted.  A recent internet query, regarding the aforementioned U2 fan website, has thusfar provided no hits.

The bona fide truth.  So help me GOD.. .. ..

My 'EXIT' Desire Comes True!  

Tattooed knuckles, and all.

LOVE VS. HATE: The Joshua Tree Tour 2017

 Arthur Gabriel Sánchez 

U2 EXIT - SERMON 2 2021

JUPITER3: The Voyage Home... continues.

O.K. CORRAL GHOSTLY ENCOUNTER

The JUPITER3 arrived in Tombstone, Arizona for the first time, in late December 2007.  Eager anticipation pressed me, on starting as soon as possible,  Exciting best decribes this tale of America's most troubling old town legend.  Especially the heightened  focus on the historical elements, surrounding the Old West's most famous gunfight scene.

To my delight, I immediately noticed a vacant parking space, directly in front of the tourist signage marking the  O.K. Corral.  The site is located alongside Arizona State Route 80. 

I parallel parked the Dodge Grand Caravan cargo model, with its U2 personalized license plates.  The 'no fate but that which we make' mission was really happening.  Continuing on a self-guided  tour, I began walking around the block, occupied by the O.K. Corral.

My Fort Lewis Ranger combat boots, soon echoed, with a drum thumping sound.  Both feet vibrating the weathered surface of boardwalks lining Tombstone's haunted dirt streets.  

Keenly staring back and forth at the  two rows of historic buildings, my slow walk  paced, like a real gunfighter's swagger.  At last stumbling upon the first of two, most noteworthy drinking establishment.  'The Crystal Palace' located at 420 East Allen Street, still remains the most colorful, of my Tombstone recollections.  Above the bar, one could still make out the bullet holes shot into the stamped tin ceiling, by rowdy long dead outlaw cowboys.

The happy Arizona day was spent preoccupied with unrestrained  drunkeness, that quickly withered away into nightfall. If memory serves me correct, I remember the glee of being totally, rip roaring wasted.  The tally of alcohol consumption, was upwards of 10 shots.  A Jose Cuervo Tequila upheaval, followed by several beer chasers.  

That same night the Crystal Palace was packed with Tucson employees, celebrating their company Christmas Party.  Festive dancing, eating, and drinking, went unabated until last call was loudly proclaimed.  I announced my departure to several boozed up strangers, and started the wavering trip back to the van.  A dry surreal desert wind kicked up, as dimly lighted East Allen Street, hummed with a chill from a time, wild as hell on earth.

Tumbling next to the boardwalk were recently fallen leaves, sped along as if spooked, like scurrying mice running for cover. 

 Transfixed in the moment, I stopped at the first street intersection, just beyond the eerie O.K. Corral.  Turning right, and then right again, before anxiously reaching the presumed safety of the JUPITER3.  

With raised short hairs, spiking on the back of my neck, I rapidly slid the driver side cargo door open. Then shut it just as fast, before nervously securing  it.   Spooked by the whole affair, I collapsed face down on the awaiting mattress, located behind the loose cargo, headache rack. 

Consciousness, quickly faded with  each alcohol laced breath,   Awake long enough, to hear a ghostly voice uttering only one word, 

"LEAVE" rang in my ear, in a deep whiskey parched tone. 

 BLACKOUT!

JUPITER3 U2 EXIT: SERMON 2 

The Voyage Home - continues.

LUCID CIRCLE - DREAM LINE 

NEW TOMBSTONE CITY

This place is truly a dreamscape, bathed in an ultraviolet blue hue... 

(Robust Snoring Heard)

A thick ominous cloud of 'Wild West Wildfire Smoke', is now in the forecast for New Tombstone City (NTC).  Across the harbor,  NTC is suspended on the horizon, like an Arizona sky island.  Beneath Old Glory, proudly flapping to and fro in the harbor breeze, stands a colorful multitude of recently arrived immigrants.  

Some gazing upon 'Lady Know', the impressive copper collossus towering above us - while others point with amazement, at the jam packed skyscrapers that resemble polished tombstones.  Legend recounts how this panorama vista, crowded like an overflowing cemetery, was the root source for the city's namesake.  My heart begins beating faster, in anticipation of  'The Voyage Home'.

ALL ABOARD! The loudspeaker announcement couldn't of come fast enough.  Everybody, myself included, wants to be first across the ramp leading to the boat bearing letters in all caps, that identified this water taxi as a, LUCID CIRCLE - DREAM LINE.

Once aboard the bobbing boat, conversations quickly swirl around reports, regarding the many gun battles raging across New Tombstone City.

BREAKING NEWS a fellow passenger shouts.  'Another NTC murder as NTPD battles ongoing violence, gang war'

"Fear not" a voice from the bow of the boat calls out.  Its the Irish preacher with LOVE tattooed on his right hand knuckles.  On his left knuckles, the word HATE is spelled out.  I remember seeing the Irishman in Tombstone, Arizona.  "Bono the Golden Voice Preacher" -was the title bestowed upon him back  in the Wild West.  Standing with him, are the other three members of the band called U2 (The Elect),

We soon arrive at slip 6, our New Tombstone City destination, near Battery Park .  The rambunctious crowd disembarks, while I struggle to keep tabs on 'The Elect'.  Out-front I can only catch glimpses of the four Irishmen, as they snake thru the throngs of humanity.  They look like phantoms, already knowing their way to the much advertised final EXIT.

Struggling to keep pace with the group, I'm stunned on witnessing devotees of the Biblical Golden Calf, seemingly worshipping its mature image, now cast in bronze.  Gleeful pilgrims climb all over the so-called 'Wall Street Charging Bull'.  Just beyond the clamor, we enter the most sacred of sites, within New Tombstone City.  There before us, are the two open wounds, moistened by the eternal falling tears.

"Gather round and hear the Second Coming Sermon", the Golden Voice Preacher shouts above the sound of falling torrents.  The Elect then lift up their ready made cardboard signs that say, U2 EXIT: SERMON 2.  

The preacher dressed in black and white,  begins speaking in an ancient tongue.  It sounds like Aramaic,  I say to myself, but who can understand that?  "I will be your interpreter" a voice next to me proclaims.  "I seek the promised 'Voyage Home', just like you."  What a generous offer to help, I thought to myself.  He then pulled out a paper from his shirt pocket, which looked official at first glance.

On the blank side of the loose page, he wrote the following words.  Surat An-Nūr (The Light) 24:22.  '...and let them pardon and overlook. Would you not like that Allah should forgive you? And Allah is Forgiving and Merciful.'  The Muslim interpreter than vanished into thin air.

At that very 'Moment of Surrender', the preacher wearing an old fashion brim, spoke out in plain English.  9/11.  "The hands that build up.  Can also pull down.  Even the hands of Love".  

A hush fell upon the thousands gathered in this sacred place.  "Who among you will follow?" the preacher continued asking.  One at a time, a few in the crowd began to raise their hands.  "I will follow" one witness proclaimed.  Only 70 souls raised both hands.  Make that 71 as I quickly interjected with my own willingness to participate in this parade of believers.

We then set off for the next remarkable landmark.  The Oculus rose before us like a Gothic church.  It very much resembles the Praying Hands, located in the Superstition Mountains, of Arizona.  A short distance from here, was the 'Celestial Station of Seen and Unseen Constellations', where we would catch the last train on 'The Voyage Home'.

We soon arrived, at the center of New Tombstone City.  The next underground train was filled to capacity, as it pulled out of the grand edifice decorated with constellations etched into the ceiling.  I had to close my exhausted eyes, for just one restful second, or two.  On reopening them, I was astonished at seeing that the entire train was now empty of all passengers, who earlier had embarked on the voyage with me.

The scrolling reader board above the train's sliding door, was now flashing a new announcement.  RESURRECTION NOW. 

U2 EXIT: SERMON 2.. .. .. continues.

KANSAS RESURRECTION NOW

 Dust In The Wind

Robby Steinhardt 71 

'I close my eyes.  Only for a moment...' 

KZOK 102.5 Seattle

The train on 'The Voyage Home' comes to a complete stop.  The EXIT door slides open, revealing 'The Point of KNOW Return'.  

I feel something folded in my right  shirt pocket, directly over my heart.  Opening it slowly, I instantly realize that this long voyage has led me straight back to the place where it began, in 1977. 

On the blank side of the piece of paper, I see (The Light) as it was translated and written down, by the mysterious messenger of GOD.  Flipping the loose page over, my hunch is proven correct.  It is an application for a 'Special Immigrant Visa'.  

However I also notice  that the official document is incomplete, with the exception of the signature line, located at the bottom. 

SIGNATURE: Jabra'il Seeking Asylum.. .. ..

The honest truth that comes with knowing, that the world I just left behind, will exist in chaos, until the end of time.  That's just the way it is!  Even now the seeds of division have germinated, like they always do for the next generation, after the greatest generation.

ALL THINGS CONSIDERED: 'Robby Steinhardt — Whose Group Kansas Notched Hits Like 'Dust In The Wind' — Has Died' NPR July 20, 2021.

WOW us all again with 71, the power mover.  But I'm here to make the number an even 72.  The reckonizable view spreadout before me, is the New Dungeness Lighthouse, where I  proposed to my bride, on the 'The Day Out of Time' 13 Moon Calendar 2012.

Before stepping over the gap that separates these two realities, I hear one more headline being announced behind me, back in the realm of darkness. 

'Tens of thousands of children cope with "pandemic grief" after losing parent or caregiver' CBS EVENING NEWS

Both sides of duality are at it again.  Whether they be GNOSTIC VS ORTHODOX, or DEMOCRATS VS REPUBLICANS.

Human life cycles will always repeat themselves, even if only in rhyme.  Its left up to us on deciding which path forward is right, or wrong. 

All were given the power of free choice.  The sad fact is that ignorance complicates freedom.  Lord have mercy.  'The Gospel of Truth' 

The Nag Hammadi Library.

LOVE VS. HATE

I look up at the blue sky, and smile, fully cognoscente of Constellation KNOW.

Arturo Jabra'il Sáncho , July 22, 2021

LIFE IS A DREAM! U2 EXIT: SERMON 2

The Power of a Good Mind, wins again.  Welcome All.

Part 3. Dedicated to Mary L. Trump