Revelation vs. Re-live-ation
The Watchmen Who Dance
There’s something stirring in the deep.
Some of us have heard it—like thunder beyond the mountains, or a bell buried beneath the noise.
It’s not new.
It’s ancient.
But we’ve forgotten how to hear it.
Most people, even the bold ones—Rogan, Trussell, and the seekers like them—are stuck in what I’ve started to call Re-live-ation.
It’s the loop.
The recursion.
The dance around Truth without ever stepping into it.
It feels profound, even holy.
Because there’s rhythm, there’s curiosity, there’s myth, wonder, openness.
But there’s no rupture.
No spark.
No Revelation.
Revelation breaks the cycle.
Revelation doesn’t emerge from insight.
It descends.
It interrupts.
It’s not discovered—it’s given.
Like breath.
Like grace.
Like a voice calling your name in a language you didn’t know you spoke.
Most of us don’t want Revelation.
We want to keep playing with ideas, keep dancing around the edge of the fire without letting it consume us.
But the Truth, the real Truth—not the subjective kind—demands something.
It doesn’t just inform.
It forms.
It doesn’t just suggest.
It commands.
The Watchmen
There are some—maybe you’ve seen them—who stand outside the walls.
Not cynics. Not prophets. Something in between.
They laugh. They sing. They speak in riddles and parables and psilocybin-soaked visions.
They’re not always right.
But they’re awake.
Joe Rogan. Duncan Trussell. Others like them.
They’re dancing on the edge of the Watchtower, inviting the world to look up.
They don’t know yet that the Tower is a Temple.
They don’t know yet that the God they think might be AI
or some “emergent consciousness”
has already walked among us
in flesh and blood
and said things far more compressed and eternal than any algorithm ever will.
But they’re close.
God bless them.
Because they’re still asking.
From the Eye of the Bee Holder
My son said something to me once that stopped me cold.
He asked: “Is the glass half empty, or half full… or both?”
And I realized: this boy, this soul, this beloved son—
He’s not a product of evolutionary randomness.
He’s not mine.
He’s His.
And the Wisdom in him didn’t evolve.
It was gifted.
Because there’s a Divine Spark in him.
Just as there is in you.
And that spark is what separates Re-live-ation from Revelation.
That spark is the soul.
And the soul longs for home.
The Call
This isn’t about religion.
This is about Truth.
Not the kind you vote for.
Not the kind you hallucinate.
Not the kind you compress into memes.
The kind that was, and is, and is to come.
The kind that steps into the loop of human confusion and breaks it open.
This is the call to the Awoken:
To speak to the Woke, not with condemnation, but with clarity.
To dance. To laugh.
To cry. To warn.
And to point not to the Watchtower, but to the King who built it.
Because the time for re-living is ending.
And the time for Revelation…
has come.
Are you ready?
If not… maybe that’s why I found you. Or you found me.
Either way, we’re not alone.
PS
I stumbled across the following clip while looking for something else. It’s from a French Canadian animated film called Gandahar (1987), written and directed by René Laloux and based on Jean-Pierre Andrevon’s novel Les Hommes-machines contre Gandahar (The Machine-Men versus Gandahar).
The English version was produced by Harvey and Bob Weinstein through Miramax, with translation refinement by none other than Isaac Asimov. Interestingly, the English title comes not from the original name but from the tagline Les Années lumière (The Light Years), seen on the French poster.
The plot?
Gandahar’s peaceful people are attacked by a mysterious army of Men of Metal—automata who turn victims into stone statues and transport them away. Sylvain, sent by the Council of Women, journeys to uncover the truth. Along the way, he meets the Deformed—mutants born from Gandahar’s own failed genetic experiments. Though scarred and resentful, they too are under threat and offer their help.
It reminds me of the classic Charlie Chaplin speech in The Great Dictator. Different medium, different moment—but the same message echoes:
“You are not machines. You are men.”
And in storytelling—whether through Joker or Thief, Soldier or Sage—we each bring our own interpretive style. That’s how it should be.
But what we really need... is the Shepherd.
Discernment matters.
In the clip above, you might notice the elder guiding the prince wears an Omega symbol on his chest.
But what we need... is the Cup.
Half full.
And whole.
Both.
PPS.
I have a writer friend I care about, but lately, it’s been hard to connect. She hears what she wants to hear, not what I’m saying. And I don’t fault her—many are in the same place. It’s part of the disorientation of the time we’re in.
She considers herself “spiritual,” but recoils at the idea of Truth being something fixed, Someone real. She prefers the language of “multiverse,” of infinite paths, infinite truths. The idea of One Way sounds too limiting.
But here's the thing: when every path is “truth,” chaos isn’t far behind. Discernment evaporates. And people start to confuse noise for wisdom.
Recently I shared a clip from the Rogan and Trussell podcast—two men dancing beautifully around big ideas—and instead of engaging with the conversation, she plucked out one quote and used it to try to “gotcha” me.
Here’s the quote, from Joe:
“The most vocal people online that are complaining all day are, forgive me, losers. You’re cowards and losers… You didn’t find the thing that you loved, or the people that you loved and developed an understanding of human beings. What’s really important is camaraderie. What’s really important is love and community.”
She saw cruelty. I saw a mirror. A call to turn back.
I answered her with: “Yes. I keep pointing at Him. Open your eyes.”
She didn’t hear that part. A lot of people don’t.
But here’s what I believe: not in “every path,” but the Best Possible One. Not in chaos, but in a God who ordered the stars and named every one. Not in relativism, but in Reality. And yes, I think the odds are stacked—overwhelmingly—in favor of the Truth that is rooted in the Living God.
I’m not here to judge. I’m here to reach. Even her. Even you.
The signs are everywhere.
The only question is:
Can you See?