--Introduction on a Failed Misdion of GA Seduction
General Authority Craig Cardon used to be my stake president. That's not a boast, just a fact.
In fact, he was my last stake president before I chose to bolt the Mormon Cult after he invoked the name of Korihor in his bone-headed, buffoonish and backfiring efforts to pressure me into staying inside the Mormon kiddie-ride corral, based on the scare tactics of a fairytale.
No thanks, Craig. I don't enjoy being bridled and beaten into submission by cartoon characters (and I know 'em I see 'em).
A bit of family history here: Not only was Cardon my stake president, prior to that he was my younger brother's mission president in Rome, Italy, where Mike worked as one of his mission assistants. There, Mike survived a serious car crash. In Arizona, I survived my own Cardon run-in, so to speak, doing so without any woo-woo-fooled-you secret Mormon underwear to keep me safe, locked and secured.
Cardon eventually became a General Authority in the light-on-substance/heavy-on/levity Quorum of the 70 (where the median intellectual age is 6), and where he was assigned to Nigeria-- from where he again tried (and failed) to bring me back to Joseph Smith's white-and-delightsome God fraud snow job.
It would be funny if it weren't so pathetic. This guy couldn't sell shoes at a walk-across-the-burning-coals show at the local county fair.
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--Cardon's First Try at Driving a Stake into My Devil-Egged-On Heart
Under the "power and authority" of his green-'n-mean temple-of-doom apron, stake president Cardon warned me in writing prior to me resigning my LDS membership that I was under the influence of Satan and would eventually be abandoned to a fate of agony and death like fellow Book of Mormon apostate and evildoer, Korihor.
Thanks for the warning, Craig, but can't you come up with something less comic book and more original?
After all, Cardon was a Mormon bully-in-training at the feet of his Brethren Bosses. In the end, though, he was all milk and no meat. He reminded me of Pat Benatar's hit song, "Hit Me with Your Best Shot," minus all that stuff about the lipstick case:
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=x5kisPBwZOM#
Here's how Cardon engaged in his Boys-in-the-Priest-Hood pattern and practice of intrusive and abusive tactics designed to "recover" and rein me in--all for the glory of God . . . and Craig. (Psssst: When someone says they're doing it all for the Lord, they aren't. Their Lord is simply providing them cover for their own personal issues).
--A Meeting Behind Closed Doors in Cardon's Arizona Home
When Cardon was my stake president, I had privately expressed to him that I was having increasing personal difficulties in accepting the purported truthfulness of the doctrines of Mormonism. He subsequently invited me over to his home (not far from where I lived), where during the course of our one-on-one conversations in his personal office spanning a total period of several hours, I informed him that I had lost my faith in Mormonism. I said, however, that I was "active" in the LDS Church, attending my meetings with due diligence, hoping against hope that my testimony could somehow be revived--despite the mounting evidence I was accumlating through my own persistent research and study that the Mormon Cult was factually fraudulent and morally bankrupt.
--Cardon Threatens to Go Public about My Growing Disconnect from Mormonism
As my confidence in Mormonism was steadily crumbling, I had become publicly critical in my editorial cartoons of the LDS Cult's denial of the priesthood to women. Cardon had seen my commentary on the subject and wrote me in the lame name of the thin-skinned Mormon God, telling me to desist from such criticism in the future, warning me that my eternal salvation was a stake. In a nutshell, he was commanding me not to mess with Elohim--who had developed into a God without developing a sense of humor along the way).
Cardon's veiled threat to "out" me as a non-believer was based on him reminding me that while I had privately confided to him that I had lost my testimony, I had described myself as being "active" (which was true; I was actively going through the motions but my faith was in shambles, a situation not uncommon among those who are in the personal and private throes of dealing with the dissolution of their religious belief).
Cardon was nothing more than a theological thug. I felt
his heavy-handed, clumsy pressure mounting and it, well, pissed me off. My suspicions of his efforts to bring me to heel only grew when one evening I attended a local stake priesthood meeting. I entered the building, where I was confronted with flyers that were being passed out prior to the opening of the meeting identifying me by name as being in opposition to the Mormon Church and, as proof, citing scripture from the D&C to back up the charge. I later asked Cardon if he was aware of these flyers being distributed during a priesthood meeting and his stske and if he had approved of that distribution. He vehemently denied any personal knowledge or support of that activity and seemed quite offended by the suggestion that he had been involved in any way.
Well, Craig, I'm offended that you're offended. Where's a trained lie-detector examiner when you needed one?
I was increasingly concluding that what I needed was to keep up my guard against him.
I later saw Cardon at a personal family event held in Utah, to which he had been invited. He was smiling and pleasant enough during our brief encounter but it was like talking to a Ken doll (stiff and plastic with no light in the eyes). I feel pretty confident in those observations, even without having the "gift" of Casper the Holy Ghost.
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--A Knock-Knock Joke from Nigeria
"Knock, knock. "
"Who's there?"
"Craig."
"Craig who? Wait, let me guess. Craig Cardon?"
Back again, like a bad rash.
Cardon was, by that time, a signed, sealed and delivered "General Authority" (even though he wasn't a general and had no authority). He was serving as a Seventy in Africa when he emailed and phoned me out of the blue, expressing a desire that we to get together over the holidays and have a friendly chat. He suggested we meet at his home when he was stateside, for a closed-door visit in his office.
Um, been there, done that. I was polite but found the whole invitation pretty damn weird, plus a great way to ruin the holidays.
These Mormons and their ever-maneuvering Gumby God never let up. I wouldn't be surprised if Cardon may have subconsciously felt guilty about wasting his life in a cul-de-sac cult for the Wasatch front Christ and therefore wanted to "bring me around" so that he could feel better about himself, with me helping him along in that effort by serving as a notch in his gun.
I mean, for gawds sake, he called me from Nigeria. If that wasn't the impetus for reaching across the miles, then he may simply have been suffering from the basic delusionary notion that Mormonism is "true" and, that being established because he said so, made it my duty to re-embrace it for my own mortal happiness and eternal well-being.
Notch so fast, Craig.
After a few exchanges, his follow-up contact was over--given that i didn't give him hope for "closing the deal" (and haven't heard from him since). I do recall, though, from that last run-in how he said he enjoyed the Nigerians' tribal costumes and the culture.
That's OK, Craig. I prefer other sources, like National Geographic. Enjoy your silly Mormon temple costume and culture---and thanks for leaving me alone.
Craig Cardon, Mortician for Mormonism.
Creepy.
Edited 7 time(s). Last edit at 09/23/2017 08:00PM by steve benson.