Loveland Museum Art Incident

A man stood quietly sobbing in a corner of the museum. “How could you…destroy ART!?” Tears of outrage and disbelief swim in his eyes. And there stands you, worldly America. Several years ago, there was a similar “work of art” on display. The “Piss Christ” sculpture by Andre Serrano. A crucifix displayed in the “artists” urine. Now there was a labor of lengthy diligence. I have never been more outraged. I was utterly livid. The oceans were the only thing that stopped me. They were an obstacle I couldn’t overcome. Some teenagers in Australia, where the display was then showing, were given the honor of destroying it, instead. From the bottom of my grateful heart, thank you! Two or three days prior to destroying the Loveland piece, I heard about the display causing controversy. As an over-the-road truck driver, most of my news and information comes over innumerable radio channels, spread across the entire U.S. Coming off “home time” in Montana, I caught only partial snippets of the story. After picking up a load of empty U.S. postal shipping trays in Spokane, WA, I was on my way to delivery in Denver. This is called a “back haul.” There isn’t any real product, just empty containers. From the news stories, I knew there was a piece of art somewhere in Colorado. That night, in Casper, WY, I was able to check on the internet and learned it was on display in Loveland and I would be passing right by there. The stories called it a Lithograph. “Lithograph” definitions described them as etchings in stone or metal. That is why I bought a crowbar from the Flying J in Cheyenne. I didn’t know what I would find as far as the work itself or the construction of the display. I had no idea what kind of security would be in place.

Whereas, upon hearing about the crucifix soaking in urine, I was utterly livid, upon hearing about Jesus in a dress, having breasts, and being serviced by a man with a big, ugly, red tongue, I was utterly calm and steadfast. That doesn’t mean I was unafraid. My knees were unsteady and I asked God if I was indeed the right person for the job. Was he sure there wasn’t someone who had a recent prison conversion who better knew the ins and outs of serving time and committing crimes? I didn’t really even understand about bail, etc. Those doubts were fleeting. If I could be a trucker in New York, I could and would do this. I put on the “Tougher Than Nails” T-shirt to draw strength from Jesus and to help feel His nearness. I wasn’t sure about whether or not to take the crow bar inside. I thought about hiding it in the bushes outside. Fortunately, it fit perfectly inside my doubled over fleece jacket. The museum had a lot of people there looking at the display; the price of the museum’s soul. (How cheaply they spent their soul.) It took from 45 minutes to an hour and a half for an opening to occur so I could destroy the piece without hurting anyone. I went through the lower part of the museum 2-3 times, the actual room itself I circled an uncounted number of times, then I learned there was an upstairs and toured the topographic display of the area. When I saw the display case, I couldn’t tell whether it was glass or Plexiglas. If it had been Plexiglas, the crowbar might have bounced off and not broken immediately. That is why I hit it so hard and cut my fingers (minor scratches). The bar went through real glass like butter. Two taps from any paperweight could have done the job. In the words of Mercy Me, “Such a tiny offering, compared to Calvary. Nevertheless, I lay it at your feet.” Before going any farther, let me introduce myself to some who might have heard from me in the past. During the 2008 election, I posted on the Mike Huckabee campaign website as Kathy4Huckabee.

Working as a trucker, I was trying to reach the truckers on the CB radio as Grandma Kathy. Over time, God had trained me not to move the truck even one revolution of the tires without getting my Bible verse for the day. Preachers say, when God says something in the bible 3 times, you need to pay particular attention. During September and October before the art incident, 6 times God gave me the same verse or theme. I thought He was upset with the truckers for being too hard headed and not accepting Him fast enough with the rapture deadline drawing close so rapidly. “There was a man of Royal Birth, who went on a long journey to be crowned King. He was despised and rejected. When He left, His subjects sent a delegation after Him and said, “We don’t want this man to be King over us.” “He was made King, however. When He returned, He said, “Bring those subjects who didn’t want me to be their King and kill them here in front of me.” Sometime during the night before the incident, God Himself said this was what He had brought me to do. Everything else that had happened in my life had been leading up to this point in time. I didn’t groan, but I wanted to. Taking up crosses is not easy. The Bible verse that morning was “On the Day of the Lord, those slain by the Lord will be everywhere, from one end of the earth to the other. They will not be mourned or gathered up or buried, but will be like garbage lying on the ground.” I had a supremely ticked off Royal on my hands. Imagine the roaring public outrage if anyone dared to treat Prince William as Jesus is treated. God had told me I would speak for Him three times. I believe those times were as Kathy4Huckabee, Grandma Kathy and now, somehow, through this Loveland Art incident. (But that was not in my thoughts nor was it my intention at the start of this incident.) Go ballistic, people opposing God. Yes, God DOES speak to, and through, His people. God is REAL!

Unfortunately, it seems to open a door to hear from the devil. Most of what I hear is from the devil, trying to trip me up or ensnare me. Sometimes even the Bible verses can be used that way. Do you think the devil can’t do a still, small voice? The question is always, “Do you buy it?” Do you buy what you just heard as coming from the One True Lord? Or was it the devil trying to sell you counterfeit? Counterfeits look so good, so close to the real thing. Don’t grasp them as lifelines or anything of value. But, I have found that when I speak for God, such as over the CB radio, whenever it feels like the room has expanded, or the volume has expanded (not increased) God is near, and what I hear is utterly reliable as having come from God. The Bible says to always be ready to give an answer when asked about the reason for our faith. My answer is the overpowering intensity of feeling and emotion experienced whenever God comes close. In spite of my being the tough old trucker that I am, I start crying when I feel those feelings and emotions ramping up. It is my sincere belief we can’t contain the full experience of that connection with God in the bodies we have now as it is too powerful. We will need to wait until we receive our glorified bodies and are like Christ before we can handle the intensity. God is REAL! A very REAL God, a very ticked off, Royal God has decided He has put up with enough. It was never His intention for us to abandon justice and throw it under the bus. (See Grace and Justice under “Part 9 – President Obama’s Role” this website.) That is why it is right and good for me to have received fines. Jesus will be restoring Justice during the soon-to-be arriving millennial reign. But I know I will be rewarded, above the satisfaction I got from ripping such an offense to shreds. It was my honor and pleasure.

Observations During and After the Incident First I want to thank my excellent team of lawyers; Cliff Stricklin, a partner in the law firm Holme, Roberts and Owen of Denver and Derek Samuelson of Samuelson Law in Fort Collins, CO. Thank you both for your caring generosity, standing protectively between me and the vultures who descended from all sides, your negotiating skills, time, employee resources and hard-won expertise being brought to bear on my case. You didn’t have to do it and you never gave up. Normally a truck driver can get another job by Monday of the following week. I never expected to be fired from my job. If I had given it any thought (at the time it wasn’t a consideration), I would have expected a reprimand and probation, as it was off duty, on my own time. But when facing jail time, I found out, companies won’t hire you until it is resolved. There are always renegade companies that will pay you under the table. But Mr. Stricklin felt more illegal activity was inadvisable. ;o) Go figure. Mr. Stricklin, his church, his secretaries and his father’s benevolence fund kept me from being homeless under the bridges of Denver and made it possible to get food and reach my new job. I had a little money after receiving my final pay, but not enough to last almost 2 months. That is why I had to consider a plea bargain. The restitution for damages is already completely funded. Thank you to God’s blessed, dearly loved souls. He really knows how to pick them. If anyone would like to help by restoring the aid I received, please send reimbursements Payable To: Cliff Stricklin, HRO, 1700 Lincoln Street, Suite 4100, Denver, CO 80203-4541. That way they won’t be penalized for caring and can pass it along to help someone else somewhere along the soon-to-arrive bumpy road. Second, I want to make it very clear there were no swat teams holding guns to my head (as a relative in Montana heard), I didn’t scream anything (as born out by the stories themselves saying the yelling didn’t start until after the pounding), and I didn’t lie down like a cross to make any statements. The policeman ordered me to lie down so he could search me and cuff me.

I only said 4 things when they started shouting questions at me. When someone shouted to call the police: I turned around and sat down on the bench and said, “Yes, call the police, I’m done.” In response to the bawling man in the corner, who weakly tried to push me away from the case twice: I said, “It wasn’t art,” when he asked how I could destroy ART?! Imagine a man, fully grown, worshipping and bawling over such meaningless drivel, trying to fill a life nearing its completion, with emptiness and counterfeit. Any school age artists could reproduce like quality, although they would be vastly enriched by never having been contaminated through seeing it. When some woman asked what I thought art was, I couldn’t think of anything brilliantly scathing enough in a short period of time, so I told her, “It’s none of your business.” She’s probably the one who wanted $1500 for emotional damages. Someone in the crowd asked why I had done it: I said, “It’s NOT OK to hurt my God!” Since then, I have heard or read someone asking just “who did I think I was butting into their business.” They apparently either couldn’t or wouldn’t take care of business themselves. The people of Loveland couldn’t even get the matter on the council agenda. And thanks to sitting on their hands (at least some dear souls were on the street), or wickedly benefiting from the stimulation or cheering on an equally wicked hurt being inflicted on God, I was able to seize the opportunity to end it, myself. Who I am is a wife who married young, only to be rejected. The Lord is my soon to be husband and witness on my behalf against that rejection. When my family seemed to have no more use for or interest in me, I offered myself to God. Other people with no resources, or still others guarding their retirements, can’t speak up against injustice as easily as I can. I’m an ordinary, everyday person who just happens to really love, admire and respect my Lord Jesus Christ. I would like to introduce Him.

From Proverbs 8:22-31 (This is Jesus describing Himself.) “The Lord brought me forth as the first of His works…I was appointed from eternity, from the beginning…I was there when He set the heavens in place, when He marked out the horizon on the face of the deep, when He established the clouds above and fixed securely the fountains of the deep, when He gave the sea its boundary, so the waters would not overstep His command, and when He marked out the foundations of the earth. Then, I was the craftsman at His side. I was filled with delight day after day, rejoicing always in His presence, rejoicing in His whole world and delighting in mankind.” I believe Jesus started His ministry so late in life because He was savoring being among the people He loved. They RAN to Jesus when they heard He was coming or was in the area. The people, including us, for whom He laid down His life. There can be no question about His deep, rich love for us. The question is how deep is our love for Him? If we are going to know and love our Lord Jesus, it has to be all of the real Him. He is the same yesterday, today and forever. We can’t pick and choose facets of Him. He comes as a package deal, just like you. Jesus is not only a turn-the-othercheek lamb. That was a once only deal, when He voluntarily harnessed his power and might and stood in OUR place. At no other time did He ever allow anyone to abuse Him or take the upper hand, even verbally, let alone physically. Meekness is defined as strength held in check. Jesus is a warrior prince. He is the warrior in the book of Daniel who was late in arriving to answer Daniel’s prayers because the war was being prolonged by the Prince of the Persian Kingdom. Jesus seems to have a great fascination and interest in wars. (I believe it is because that is when people seek Him, entrust Him, grow in love and learning from Him and communicate with Him the most.) As this warrior, He foretells the outcome of many long ages of warfare, since then, proven infallibly true. [Digging latrines originates from Jesus visiting the camps of his warriors at night when the camps were sleeping. It was logistics in preparation and anticipation of His visits.] America could learn from that!

Now you know how the disciples could be told about the coming crucifixion of Christ and not have recognized it or been prepared for it when the actual events arrived. Jesus has told us over and over He will not hold back His strength forever. A time of reckoning is coming sooner than you know. God let’s humans have what they think they want. The result is called the Tribulation, the 2nd coming of Christ, and the Millennial reign. Now you know how YOU can be told about these coming events and not recognize or be prepared for them when the actual events have arrived. We must stop allowing God to be removed from schools, courtrooms and government. It is NOT OK to board over His cross with a box, cover His cross with a bag, soak His crucifix in urine, depict Him as something He despises or ban prayers to Him from every public venue. And He certainly never wanted us to abandon His estate, which He entrusted to our care, to predators and enemy attackers. Every Emperor, King, President and Religious leader have always had one fear they could never overcome. Public opinion. Public opinion is always drawing lines. Free speech does not cover yelling “Fire” in crowded public places. We do not consider allowing money to be counterfeited. The public will voice their opposition to marketing pedophilia how-to books, airport security overstepping its bounds, and will express great empathy for a homosexual teen who kills himself after having a sex act published. Where is the public outcry in God’s defense? Are His feelings and honor less worthy than that of a troublemaker, counterfeiter, pedophile, air traveler or homosexual?
{Loveland cultural services director Susan Ison said she is saddened by Wiggins’ decision. “I know there are a lot of people who would have loved to have seen this on display here,” she said. “I’m disappointed, but I understand. It’s important for us to honor his (Wiggins’) feelings about this.” --Coloradoan}

Too bad Ms. Ison couldn’t dredge up any importance in honoring God’s feelings in all these matters.

{“The controversial image has been demonized as “pornographic”, “obscene” and “depicting Jesus in a sex act” when none of this is true.” “I deplore the violence and intolerance of this act and call upon those organizing the protests against this piece to restrain their angry mob at once.” – Bud Shark-Artwork owner.} Loveland, you need a new Cultural Services Director and need to relegate her and Bud Shark to the outdated and irrelevant pile. Their stewardship, eye for good art and discernment skills are lacking in any kind of substance at all and what little they have emit an offensive and foul odor. Bud Shark cooperatively demonstrated one of satan’s, the spirit of antichrist’s and George Soros’ favorite tactics of repeating a lie often enough to get it accepted as fact. It goes hand in hand toward completion of yet another endtimes prophecy of truth being thrown to the ground. These days, truth mumbles up out of the dust. Come to think of it, your news media could use an upgrade as well. They are hopelessly inept reporting the facts. They saw they originally had one fact correct and worked feverishly to change it. I am 57 years old as reported in early stories, not 47. I was born in 1953. Was 47 supposed to make me look more like a fearsome, out of control, angry mob? Now you know how inaccurate, tainted and biased all your news stories are, especially those with data. The Balance of Good People I also saw a lot of good in people. A stranger paid my bail and later prayed for me. Two men told me their stories about God. One while I was being processed in and the second while I was being processed out. I saw the desperation of the women in the cell block. Many unable to function and cheaply spending their lives lying in bed. Others cleaning feverishly for an opportunity to earn a soda. One woman offering me her place at a table.

Another interested in seeking more information about believing in God, after her mother-in-law laid the foundation. Many people at the police station confided their support in various ways. Two people helped me get my cell phone plugged in and charging while I waited. When I was suddenly dumped out on the street with nowhere to turn and no idea what to do next, all my cash having been drained for the first of the never ending fines and fees of overblown government, facing a media gauntlet, I was slipped a note. A woman had a vehicle waiting to help me get away. As I went to leave through the door, a different woman nodded with a twinkle in her eye. The woman in the vehicle later paid for my motel room that night, helped me through the minefield of Pre-trial Services and all their paperwork the next morning and gave me a ride to the Denver trucking terminal. By then the devil had his return shots firmly lined up. See “Resurection Christian Fellowship” and “My Son”, this website.

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