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The following is an inference: In December of 1942, Germany was marching on Moscow, and certain of the humans who served in rulership of this world realized that if you added Russia to what Hitler already had, the potential was there for him to take the entire planet. An urgent supplication was dispatched to a higher world. “It’s gotten out of control,” they prayed. “You’ve got to send someone.”

The elders of my world gathered in a room and sat robed in white, with a holographic image of the planet Earth suspended in the center of the room by their telepathic power. Various sages considered all of the dimensions of the phenomenon of human life on this orb through the course of its history.

Finally, after a long time, someone broke the silence with a bit of comic relief. “It looks like they’ve got everything they need,” he said, “except a darn good spanking.” The room cracked up, because everyone realized that he had hit the nail on the head. Just then, the door of the room being ajar, I walked by, dragging my large teddybear by the ear, one corner of my pajama-bottom flap unbuttoned. “Let’s send them Suppo,” someone said, and the room exploded in laughter again, because everyone realized that it was perfect. I was the ideal choice for this dharma.

And so, nine months later, I was born in this world, in an army camp where some of the most kick-ass fighters in the allied forces were training. This was a statement about which side I was on. Then I was raised in the country, in a large house on an acre and a half of land lined with white birches, that had a classic woodshed right in the middle of the property. When I was a teenager, we’d lose big birches now and then to windstorms, and I’d go out there with my axe and chop them into firewood and stack the logs in the woodshed. My large hands became very caloused from this.

When I became aware that I had this dharma, I said, “Surely not.” A sign was shown me. I was skeptical. Then another sign, then another. Frighteningly specific. “Okay, fine then,” I said. “I have this dharma.”

So anyway, they had installed this official or semi-official escape path, and Jesus proclaimed that he had come “to bring sinners to repentance.” But what happens to the escape path is that it tends to become obscured. Overzealous demons are apt to kick rubble over it, and it gets harder to find. Those who innocently grope for our version of this path are often immediately attended by powerful implications that what they are really seeking is a sexual release. In part, the excitement of sexuality by the estrogenic hormonal activity sparked by the thought of getting a spanking is intended to prevent a soul not ready for correction from availing itself of it prematurely. Perhaps the soul is not yet proof against its error, or perhaps, in the case of a fallen sinful soul, it has simply not fried enough yet. Perhaps correction by another is not permissible for him, for he must find his own way.

But when the demons who perform such tempting become too enthusiastic about diverting people seeking to right themselves, it can become time to check that tendency. The information in this book is intended to serve as such a check. To make the escape path just a little easier to find -- to kick the apparatus back into kilter. When a big adjustment is needed, there comes an avatar. But sometimes, for a small adjustment, we just send one of the children, like the author of this book. The escape path of this website is the classic, most normal and usual as well as the funnest way, by which souls who have strayed from the straight and narrow by their wrongful thoughts and deeds can right themselves and bring themselves back into their true state, the state of grace. It embodies the compassion (co-hump passion) that Krishna built into the form when he created it.

Grace is an important state to be in, because your true mind and your true soul never stray from it. They are always at one with their Source, and cosmic law is their warp and woof.

When a big adjustment is needed, there comes an avatar. But sometimes, for a small adjustment, we just send one of the children, like the author of this book, to sort of kick the thing back into kilter. It’s nothing like the difference that an avatar makes, but sometimes when them demons git a little too rambunctious, someone is coming. This one was sent, I think, in response to a supplication.