Tag Archives: faith


I recently saw a post on the evil Facebook whereas a Muslim was defending the actions of the extremists, such as Isis or the Taliban, by saying it is only a few Muslims who have that idealogy. And he said the said ‘few’ were not terrorizing the world.

He stated that the ‘good’ Muslims are fleeing their country (I could not find ‘Islam’ on my globe  – I believe it may have been hidden behind ‘Heaven’, ‘Hell’ or, maybe ‘Valhalla’), to escape the radicals also. 

This baffled me due to the fact that over a billion ‘good’ Muslims would rather ‘flee’ than weed out the supposedly ‘few’ radicals. 

Here is the response I offered to this man:

The few “extremists” are responsible for thousands of MURDERS – so why are not your peaceful Muslim congregations dealing with the extremists?  Why are you,  yourselves,  fleeing from  your homes and thusly bringing their violence to the rest of the world?  

If you would clean up your own backyards then the rest of us would not have to suffer. 

Your religion is based (like many religions are) on the rantings of a man who claims to have spoken to “Allah” directly. Much the same as most religious books and faiths are based on. 

I once saw God, in 1969,  but then my LSD  wore off. Go into any mental asylum any where on this once beautiful planet and you will find three people who think they are Jesus, or Allah or Buddha. 

If I were to sit with them and document their stories we would have another “holy” book and yet another “religion” to add to the five thousand plus “religions” us humans already have.  

Amazingly,  each “religion” states their God is the only God. 

If we, as a modern society could get past our barbaric and ritualistic need to worship false idols and learn to worship the creation of this big blue marble and appreciate all the wonders of this world, well, maybe, just maybe, we could end all these wars and metropolitan terrorism.

My, my, I believe I just described the beliefs of the First Nations and many other Aboriginal races.  Give thanks to what we call ‘Mother Nature’ and worship the beauty of life. 

Having been dead and revived seven times now, I can truly tell you all – this violence, division and segregation isn’t worth destroying the world over.  

There are no gates to Valhalla,  nor a bunch of virgins (which again proves Mohammed was just an insane pedophile) or a Heaven or Hell. 

There is an after life – but it comes once you have paid your penance for the lifestyle you chose here in this space/time continuum. 



But, I would rather wake in the morning, smile at the Sun, breathe in the morning breeze, wiggle my toes in the grass and bask in the Light of Life.

So sayeth The LightHouse Dann Verner on this, the twenty eighth day of March, 2017. 


There is a large difference between following a religion and believing in a higher power. Religion is MAN-MADE – “BELIEF ” comes from the soul and all creatures, all living life has an energy that no science, no religion can explain. 

Religion will be/is the downfall of mankind. Just another type of gang in a race of people who have always formed into groups claiming their gang is better than your gang.

And now I will hear from all the fanatical gang members – Catholic’s will Bless themselves, Muslim’s will tell me there is only their faith, the extremist will rape my budgie. You are all a boxed set – gang members hiding under the cloaks of man-made opinions.

Been dead seven times – WHAT A SURPRISE YOU ALL HAVE COMING UPON YOUR DEATH – no virgins, no Tim Horton’s in the clouds – just penance and explanations to why you lived your life the way you have.

I  noticed through life that the better a person is the more trials and tribulations they suffer while others sail through with no worry. I believe it is due to the better person being able to handle and understand WHY they must be tested. 

From experience I can honestly say that there is definitely an “after life” – just not the one portrayed in books written by false prophets and re- written over and over.

 The Hindu and Buddhist have the closest ideology and perception.  Five of the seven times I passed and had to be resuscitated I experienced the exact same after death experience.  Made me look at faith and life totally different. 

We pay penance here and again in “purgatory” or whichever equivalent your faith allows you to believe.

My  “near deaths” were like an LSD trip – but the ones were I was actually “dead” were not. 

When I was taking part with the “Near Death” and then the “After Death”  programs at Sunnybrook Hospital I discovered many who had very similar experiences. The last time was the most enlightened.  It seemed to last the longest and it ended as soon as they brought me back by CPR, epi and defibrillation.    Then it was six weeks on life support and the insanity of being fully aware but not really  “here”.  I never wish to have to experience that ever again.

People perceive god or the Hairy Thunderer as a person or being  – not true – it is an energy, a communication of knowledge that cannot be understood or comprehended by the living human mind.

For we are not meant to understand and we were not meant to return and share what we have experienced for only the dead should know of Death’s construction.

For Death has no place within our living life. 

It is merely the first step of ascension to the next higher plain of space/time continuum.

So sayeth The LightHouse Dann Verner on this day of your Lord, January 9,  2017.

Remember I tell you this. 



I live a very solitary and lonely life. 

I have many friends,  but I am also the man who is alone in a crowded room. 

I have accepted that. I mask it with smiles and humour. I grin and “bear” it so to speak. 

My friends are my Blessings.  They sooth my sorrow.  Their  love hugs me when I am crying alone in the dark.  They calm the savage beasts that run amuck in my mind.

I am Blessed and I know it.

I have walked so many paths and highways during my fifty nine years.  I have worn out numerous shoes as the rugged edges of existence tore and frayed their soles.

I certainly have learned from every step I chose.  I have learned more from the steps I did not choose. 

I – like all children – did not ask to be born.  That was a choice two teenagers made in the chaos of living in the fifties.  I am a direct result of their lust.

I am grateful to have been brought into this world. Even though I was the “accidental” birth. A blue baby born on a blue moon.

My mother could not deal with yet a third child.  My early years were spent being bounced back and forth and to and fro between my father, mother, relatives and by the age of ten I had lived in thirty two different homes.

By the age of twelve I had left home to live in The Awarehouse Hippie Commune. I fondly reminisce about the psychedelic years. 

The peace and love generation instilled a gentleness in me. Unfortunately,  the reality of living on the streets at such a young age infused a violence and deceitful side that was a necessity for survival. 

By fourteen I developed a wanderlust – a fear and loathing approach to the reality of my life. 

In those days I hitchhiked across Canada and the United States many times. It was a different world then. The peaceful hippie culture provided me with shelters from the storms. 

I often ate from dumpsters and I often dined with kings. I had a passion for learning all I  could from every soul the Creator’s connected me with.  The good, the bad and the ugly.

Much to my despair,  I  discovered the ultimate drugs. LSD, HEROIN and worse, I also discovered violence.  

I changed.

I became dangerous. 

I teamed up with the worse of the worse. I became an urban legend of fear known by all those around me.

I became  a biker, a beggarman and a thief. I began “wintering” in jail. Which made it dangerous for society come spring.

I developed an addiction not only to the 10cc syringe, but also to guns and explosives. 

The “Unholy Trio of Evil”.

I dissociated from my family and childhood friends. I like to fool myself into thinking I did this for my own progress, but looking back I know it was to protect them from the evil I had become.

Soon, my winter escapes to jail turned into many years in a federal penitentiary.  

I learned that choices can be wrong and drugs could mask reality.

In my early twenties  I emerged back into your society a different person. I was now a scared young man living like a stranger in a strange land.

My previous lifestyle had hidden reality from me and reality had now been deposited abruptly in my lap.

With the guidance of my dear cousin David and his wife, April and also that of my elder brother Ernie and his wife, Elisabeth,  I slowly became human.

Human for the first time in my life. 

In the early stages of my new life I feared the challenges.  I was lost in a society that had advanced while I was stagnated by incarceration. 

I was frightened by all which surrounded me. 

I tried.  I truly did. 

I fell into what I perceived as “love” with my first wife,  Michelle.  Love that was based on my “purchasing” her for fifty dollars from her mother. 

How could I love when I had never experienced love?

Shortly after our union my biological mother was brutally murdered.  The assailant committed two murders that day for he also killed our marriage. 

Within eight months from wedlock to divorce,  my manufactured world disintegrated.  

Much like my being released from prison,  I was once again thrust into a reality I was not familiar with. 

Once again I lay naked and afraid. 

I slowly descended into my previous lifestyle.  Alcohol and drugs encased me within their evil tentacles.  

Once again I became “Shakie”. Once again I became dangerous. 

And then I met the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.  I was introduced to a side of me that I never had met. “Fatherhood”. 

Jennifer had a six month old son named Randy. Randy needed a dad. I never had a father in the familiar sense and Randy brought the paternal instinct out of my inner most depths.

I embraced fatherhood.  I embraced my new found life. I certainly embraced Randy.

I became as sober as our lifestyle allowed.  I always worked.  I always provided. I always and very willingly embraced Randy as my “first born”. 

I still do. Thirty five years later.

Like all relationships, we had our ups and downs and numerous “inbetweens”.

Nine years into our marriage, Jennifer gave birth to our second son, Jordan. 

For his first six years he had a good life.

The remainder of his childhood would echo that of my own. 

But, I never strayed from being the best father I could be at that time.  

Thirteen years after Jordan’s birth I was once again to become a father. Thanks to the infidelity of my wife and so-called “friend”. 

I held no anger or hatred for the handsome little life the Creator’s had placed in my warm embrace. From the cutting of his cord to making his lunch for school this morning I have and always will gaze upon and love him as my own. 

Sons and daughters are not necessarily those who you have seeded. They are those you have loved and desired to raise, nurture and guide as your legacies of life.

Jennifer and I had twenty eight years together.  Twenty eight years that I never once strayed into another woman’s arms. Twenty eight years of being blinded by love and not seeing the reality of a damaged marriage. 

I live a very solitary and lonely life. 
But I am not alone. I have Dakota by my side – I have his brothers in my heart. 

My loneliness and solitary existence is that of a man who is without the comfort of a spouse. The man who has no arms around him in times of despair.  The man who has no soul mate to discuss his day or the strife of life.

The lonely man.

(This is an excerpt from my ongoing book. I shall return and post more as time passes.)