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Apr 13, 2020
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About My Library

(Start part two, lol—this is NOT part one! 🤪)

It has often been said, by the ancient people, and the wise people, that girlie is sad, that to be the girlie is to be sad, because girlie is the one who makes the other one feel sad. How can this be? It is because there is more than one girlie.

The little girl, the one who lives inside of me, is good, and she comes to me when I sleep, and we make love. But the other girl, who is from the outside, is sad, and when I wake up the other girl does not come to me. And the little man who lives inside of her shakes his fist at me, and the little girl who lives inside of me becomes afraid.

Poor girlie!

[Other important Thoughts:

Because I am like everyone, I am like no one.

Jesus has protected me and the duck duck nation from our enemies, the geese.

And we will see, that it is good.]

[Other important ideas and sayings:

Don’t hurt the girlie.

Duckie is my friend.


[~ Although now it’s, My heart. Not so much girlie (etc etc) and/or duckie, but, My heart. (You’re) my heart.]

[The one who fails the drowning one, fails everyone.

The body who drives away their protection is protection-less

One does what one does, without knowing that someone else is doing the same.

~ an anonymous Ancient Egyptian scribe]

[ *talking to himself* Powerful forces are at work, girlie, inside my mind…. I love my mind.]


(I’m a lot like my mother….) Of course, formally I’m more like my father, just like I’ve always formally been more like my father, except perhaps when I was afraid, and then I was like nothing. I am not afraid of my childhood like my mother is afraid of her childhood…. But my father really only wants comfort and ego and externals, so I’m not really like him either, especially when I am most like him.


It’s the job of the conservative to identify with the parent and love their sin; it’s the job of the liberal to identify the parent’s sin, and to do them in their own way.


The world world is crazy, because the one side wants a counter-culture that serves the rulers, and the other wants the world and the poor. But this will not pass. What use have the rulers with a counter-culture? (At most, they’ll be reformists.) And does the world serve the poor? If you want the world, you don’t want the poor. (Though you might BE poorly educated.)

And both sides think your ideas don’t fit in neatly, that you must not really mean what you say.

I thought of that—the two sides—originally as being the conservatives and the liberals, (or maybe non-radicals and radicals or whatever), but really it’s the two wings of the Democratic Party. The Republicans now are mostly hicks and dicks, you know. It’s a little joke.

“Serve the poor, not the world; this pleases God.”

A/B: You must not mean what you say. The rebellion of the rulers or the palace of the poor—these ideas of ours, not those ideas of yours, are sensible and consistent.

Hicks and Dicks: Yee haw I’ll get my rifle! The nigger Hitler conspiracy is on again! Long live the South!


*announcer idiot* Today at (corporation name), we’re asking liberals and conservatives, why are YOU a hypocrite?

—Well, I’m entitled, because I’m a white man. My parents raised me to be a white man, and my father was one before me. Leave the change to the Jews in California; this is how it’s always been. And what’s more, this is how we come together—I’m a white man; you’re a white man; we’re all in it together.

—Life shouldn’t be hard, so I’m pretty sure that I’m entitled to do what I want, and anyone who challenges my right to say one thing and do another—screw them! Fashy pigs! But anyway. I love you. I love you, now get out of my face; you have NO right to make me do these things I promised to do. Love is getting rid of fear, you know.


— So, I completed my education, and then I started my career.

— You’re an employed…. Ghost?…. Are the ‘death taxes’ bad?

— No, no…. I mean, I’m done with drinking and popular music.


“All of us once lived among them in the passions of our flesh, following the desires of the flesh and senses, and we were by nature children of wrath, like everyone else.”


“Superior things are self-evidently better than inferior. But with a sounder judgment I held all things taken together are better than superior things by themselves.” Augustine

Douglas Adams: The fuck does that mean.
Charles Dickens: He’s saying we’re ok.
Douglas Adams: We? We!
Jonathan Safran Foer: All of us!
Malcolm X: All us crackers, we're in it together!
Augustine’s Mom: That’s right…. Ah….


“The dreams are one.”


A good catalog is like a good book.


One time I almost had a full-on panic attack because of what I read in a book; the guy was saying the right thing for the wrong reason, and I was like…. I don’t know, No! You’re hurting us! ~ Words matter that much to me.


—If a soul keep my teaching, she will not notice death. 

—…. The death of the damned…. That is the true death: the other is a passage only. (Augustine)


Really the best thing is to be ignored, if like me you labor under the impression that people have to care about your book of cake recipes, really the best thing that can happen for you is if no one does.

(*) Callous thoughts: maybe low-wage/minimum wage workers just should decide not to have children. Hollywood lies aside, children screaming for money you don’t have doesn’t make you happy. And if enough people did it, there would eventually be a labor shortage, until low wage workers finally got paid what they’re worth.

It’s also obviously not the children’s fault, and parents obviously have very little control over media and many things like that, but it’s unfortunate how children are raised. Told you’re going to be rich (kingly adventure), taught how to be poor (slacking off or possibly even doing well at school), until like everyone else you are ‘acquiescent yet discontent’ or ‘discontent yet acquiescent’ (William Temple).


It’s ok to have a small number of very bad books about which something can be said. We must understand our neighbors. But I am making a real effort to, get rid of, the moderately bad books about which little can be said.... Of course part of me wants to keep them because the ink has dried on the paper in interesting patterns, like in abstract art.


To all the theologians whose books I read and deleted because I said nasty things about them because they’re not like Betsie ten Boom, I apologize, but only because she would want me to.


I do not believe that I am ignorant (anymore) in the ordinary sense of the word, that I am needlessly polluting the Internet. However, it is good to keep in mind that the search for Truth can create ignorance or unwisdom, at least, and so eventually some reviews and writings, perhaps many, will be re-worked or begun again, even if typically in this stage of development I am not overcome with grief by what I was doing two years ago when I started this profile (even if even then I was only just coming to myself). But growth, necessary in the finite, perhaps, necessarily involves seeing the limitation of what was once considered good. But then, it is also Not So Bad to see that the life of the creature is a continual exercise in unglory, though God still smiles at us.


Beauty church etc (clean up pending below), between Halloween & Christmas (HomeGoods time), 2022—

Girlie is not valued, based on her appearance (Because of her appearance, we don’t value her).

Duckie isn’t valued based on his appearance. (We see his heart.)

But then again, if you’re not an obsessive, sex energy doesn’t have to be…. dangerous, basically. It just goes away, after awhile.

“Nocturnal downpour

Wakes the lovers

Floods the valley.” (Tao 365).


Beauty etc: ….

…. I forgot what I was talking about for a minute, but I was serving at the altar today…. first Sunday in Lent, [2022], I learned a few liturgical things: covered crosses…. I haven’t been in church enough in my life, nice liturgical church…. The homily is important, but if it’s like being in class instead of the bridge from the gospel reading to the creed and later the Eucharist—if it’s a class you just learn something and leave unchanged, right…. But as I was lighting or extinguishing candles or whatever I had to awkwardly bow at towards the altar, and I just thought…. Really there were no words, but it was like….

Little children, keep yourselves from idols. I am the LORD. Ecce homo— He felt sad. 

[Reflection: A certain John said, although others have said similar things, that the true believer still sins, or is sinful, but that sin no longer has Dominion over him or her. Now I say, to take this example, that I as a true believer still sin, or am sinful—{ie I forget that I am enlightened, and nod off}. {One of these things can be an over-preference for girls, since attachment or aversion, or any form of violence of obsession, is bad, although I do not anymore think I can define ‘legally’ for myself what is permissible, since it has to do at least as much with the reaction that is provoked, as with the ‘objective’ nature of the situation itself. Although certain things clearly have to do with violence/obsession, although we also cannot always get away from other people’s public obsessions, and that is something else, and we should not dislike some situation just because we should practice caution, because that is something else.}

N.B. And it is notable that for such a long time in my early recovery, sin still had dominion over me; the only difference, basically, was that I no longer loved or believed in my master Sin. A most dubious improvement, as many half-improvements are.]

[Pt. 2

And even now, I feel it relatively easy to work for Jesus; it’s habitual. I do what I can for the guy because I like him. But it’s much harder to let go of habitual grief and trust that he will take care of me, that things, ok for now, need never take me from him.]


—(before opening door( I should ask my friends at church if what I’m doing is sexual sin. (Opens door)

—(conspiratorially, as if, The workers should own the means of production) You’ll pretend to be a historical-critical scholar, but it’ll be a trick—we’ll crush the commies (sees other person) What the hell so you want?

—Nothing! I was just leaving!


“(God) was amazed to see that no one intervened to help the oppressed.”

Isaiah 59:16a

“I (God) was amazed to see that no one intervened to help the oppressed.”

Isaiah 63:5a

God's naive lol. 😸

God doesn’t know how the system works; he just doesn’t know how we do business. 🫢😂



I have a relative who’s a Baby Boomer, and as paranoid as she is about far-off Fauci and medical science, as soon as she meets—in person—a distinguished white male authority figure, she fauns instantly and lastingly, even if she doesn’t really know anything about him, (and doesn’t want to), and especially is he’s not as trust-worthy as he pretends to be to even himself I guess, and so upper world slick and ready to be deferred to.

That being said, and as much as I’d like to start giving my name as Nunya on forms (cf The Hate U Give), (the children are stealing from each other in the break room again—Shut up, shut up, I’m on break; I’m trying to Think), I am much more in this life the friend of the bridegroom than the bridegroom, and I think that if I consistently and honestly rejoice with those who rejoice, more good than ill will come of it, and God will take care of the rest.

I actually interpret the command about rejoicing and sorrowing with regard to class etc, that we should rejoice when we have reason to sorrow and sorrow when we have reason to rejoice…. I cannot now but view the upper world as especially duplicitous, but it is God’s job to chuck them into the deepest pit in Hell at the appropriate moment, and mine to go on loving and serving. It is not the responsibility of the friend of the bridegroom to call off the wedding.

As always, as long as you don’t say, “(a) I want, and (b) I can’t have”—I want and I can’t have and blah blah blah, for 38 years, right.}

{In a way happiness is trust, but it’s not the married trust of some asshole who thinks he’s entitled—blessed be he, the distinguished important one, the king, the husband!

I think it says in Proverbs, Correct the fool, and you’ll regret it. Don’t correct the fool, and you will regret it. Correct or do not correct the fool, and you will regret it…. Not that I regret doing the right thing, (in my case, you can’t correct the fool with a piece of paper), but now I’m back at the beginning, not able to fall up into the trust of God.

But that’s fine.}

{But in a way it’s quite a disservice to him to even internally take him so seriously that I would be insulted, (as though receiving an insult and being offended were the same thing). After all, that’s his problem, everyone’s always taken him seriously, and so (like the housewife type who blames other people for her feelings because it’s all she’s ever known, is powerlessness) he’s like me in high school, the AP student who knows how to fake it and not read the material. And it is the negativity bias: everyone like that thinks that they’re some kind of municipal official, the mayor of some small city, but if he compliments you it obviously doesn’t count for much, because it’s like a counterfeit bill. But if “shit in silk stockings” (diplomat in a Napoleon movie) insults you, then you discover that even as a non punk-rocker, you have that tyrant, that king of Egypt (Gregory of Nyssa book), that thinks that it is your opinion that matters, and not simply that God is true….

And of course, so what if at times I am maybe 20% like being someone who’s actually fucked by the world. So what.

…. If you can’t get angry, at least not for yourself, then you never get petty personal insults. Simple.}


[Toleration: Sometimes I respond to art, and I have a few art books and would like to know more, but fundamentally I am not an art person. People come into HomeGoods and they ask me about different green-blue colors, like there’s One green-blue they really want, because it’s different, but it’s hard to find because it’s not popular, and all I can do is be polite and say…. No? And secretly I think that green-blue is all one color and they’re delusional, Their green-blue spectrum doesn’t exist, only My green-blue monolith…. But, that’s, you know, sad. I’m sad.]


Holy Wednesday 2022/Tenebrae:

I feel like my Lenten experience this year has indeed been transformative, and I just had a second religious experience at church at Tenebrae.

Mundanely, I felt quite sick soon after the service started; I had a terrible stomachache. Now it’s a bit better. But I feel like I have loved Christ this little bit, and suffered with him this little bit. I know it’s fanciful, although I was told that I read well; I had the Hebrews reading that seems so relevant to my own life.

Surely this is the privilege I have known. Brighter days would not have given me this shadowy gift.

(in the car going home with Deacon Vicki and her husband Bill) “We used to do that. It’ll happen to you too; you slow down.”

But I know that in that night, there will be a light. A cavil might say that I do not know, but I say, all human knowledge is limited, including my understanding of this, but this part of the future—the night and the light—is no less known to me than my knowledge of the past, that my suffering and even my sin was not to no purpose, but to the purpose of my conversion.

…. It really is a mystery. God spoke to me; I had a religious experience, and I couldn’t have had it by sitting at home and reading the readings to myself, although they’re good readings, I’m not saying they don’t matter. But even the words are the old words; they are experiences. And of course, you have the theater of the candles…. Some people don’t get much out of it, and of course it’s not possible to say why. One old lady I don’t know, about the same age as Deacon Vicki whose husband drove me home, whined, I don’t understand why they had to turn the lights down so low. And that was her experience…. We do not know why some people complain instead of profit, and we do not know for sure that their preparation was less faithful…. And I’m not trying to be sarcastic; I’m really not. It is a truth that people experience these things differently.


Holidays: But in general, holidays are Bad. The library closes, you still have to go to work if you’re in retail, people mob the food stores, and even seeing family isn’t always good. (Let’s drink and remember the Wars of the Irish. In Boston!)

Holidays are abnormal, impious. Holidays…. are a Mistake. Dun dun dun!

…. *mousy femme* Did you finally become Successful like the rest of us yet? No, oh, how nice. Well, I’m going to be playing with my kid for the next four and a half hours—I hope your phone has a really good battery life.

*drinking, talking loudly* It just goes against my religion to like people: it’s not pure! It’s what THEY would want!…. No, honey, don’t be intolerant: be tolerant, like me. Honey, we don’t use that word. We’re advanced capitalists, not street scum!

…. *two children beating up a third, while mousy-femme pulls them apart* Use words…. Use words….

*child sits on the floor*

Here, get the hell off the floor; are you a white kid, or not? Did you finish reading War and Peace like you’re supposed to?

I’m reading the abridged version, Daddy. Ah, ah, did it happen in Russia?

*to an adult* Do you think taxes will go up in District One again? If those leprechaun terrorists win the election, I bet taxes will go up AND we’ll lose the Hunger Games. Again! Again.

Daddy I think it happened in Russia.

Whatever, kid. Behave, dammit. And somebody get me another drink!

N.B. Qualifications: (a) I’m not having kids; I wouldn’t be a good parent, certainly not in this society and possibly not in a healthy one. I couldn’t even take in a pet where I live. (Although dad wouldn’t be able to take care of a dog, either, I think—hahaha.)

(b) My mom’s family hardly ever gets together, which is also a problem, for me.

[— Now, look, there’s nothing wrong with Juneteenth; the Civil War is just as important as Independence, but there are getting to be too many holidays, but I have a plan, and as I’m confident that it will work, this is what I’m counting on you guys to do: one year, we’ll have the Fourth of July but not Juneteenth, and then the next year, we’ll have Juneteenth but not the Fourth of July—because there are getting to be too many holidays, and every time I turn around the bank and the library are closed, and I’m trapped, and me alone. I say, send the bastards back to work, like the rest of us.]


In real life, if there is such a thing, I mumble.

This will sound weird or misanthropic, but I like kids when they cry. Of course, I like them when they look like Disney characters, but it’s nice when they cry, because that’s how I feel too, sometimes, only, you know.

“Get back to sweeping.”

“I can’t.”

“Man, are you ok?”


Yeah, that’s cool. Of course, I don’t have kids. I’m not even a supervisor.


A: The ‘Early Conditioning’ rant: Confession is a sinful practice!

“Now tell me, what could a 7/8/9/10/11 year old child do wrong?”

B: The day before, an overheard conversation of two 7/8/9/10/11 year olds

#1: Well, you’ve gotta like Black people.

#2: There aren’t any black people that I like.


Reading is obviously partly about gathering information, but is is also about making decisions.


Part of me wishes I could read French and German, but partly, there are some time constraints put into mortality, you know, even aside from finiteness restraints (German before Danish—actually, maybe never Danish!), and sharing (Turkish or something, would be nice in an immortal body….), but also, even beyond sharing, really I’m privileged enough—as much as I try to improve myself and read widely, I think if I could read a book about the Assyrians and Babylonians in German, that might precipitate some kind of crisis.

Just, out of touch, you know—out of touch, and yet, just too much, too much, more than any little mick boy ought to have, really.

Would that be a crisis for me? Let’s not find out. I know English. Let’s set some limits.


Religion/atheism: My thinking about this has changed over the years; I used to be a little credulous, but now I think that doubting all the right things is the other side of the coin to believing all the right things. And you have to be a little sensitive or merciful for people’s problems. If you live in Belfast, then maybe local history propels you towards the fuck you style of atheism. Maybe it’s even better—less bad, anyway. After all, no matter which horn of the dilemma you take in this troubled world, I don’t think you can get all the answers right unless you’re an angel or something. So why not a little mercy for earthly fools? Certainly if you’re going to be very bad you’d best not be religious.... But despite all the social factors and personal choices, I think that part of it is due to inborn styles of thinking and preferred affective styles. How God takes all this into account on the Great Day I don’t know, though of course I imagine he does. Reading Twain or somebody like that, the cutting skepticism, the habitual disbelief—completely apart from whether it’s good or bad I usually do not tend that way. There are some sins we can never indulge in, when they are sins, I mean, because we are too busy with the other girl, so to speak, on the other side of the room.... I can sorta train myself to be more skeptical and less credulous, or I can try, when I find it to be a good or to the extent that I find it to be a good, but it will never be where I rest easy. Though of course there are terrible things about religion. It’s not perfect because it’s mine, partly. Hair-splitting theologians can be infuriating.


Spiritual books: Spiritual books can provide meaning, although they can also provide ‘hope’, which can become grasping, grasping-after-meaning…. It’s hard to explain, not not every book should be about recovering from childhood trauma or finding a new mantra or method of prayer. I think it was Sadhguru who said he Never read spiritual books, only cartoons. (Like, if he were a Westerner, The Youth Of Mister And Missus Bennet by Emma Woodhouse.)


Reading the news: Reading the news makes some people feel 2.5% more intelligent; Emma Woodhouse, on the other hand, turns away in fear. There is some value in good reporting, if not in outrage entertainments. But it is a limited good. I make a point of reading headlines (the Apple News on my phone, I guess) to get a sense of what’s going on in the background, [Donald Trump Still Jackass, 2000 words; huh one two three four, one two three…. I must be Really Bad At Math], but I almost never read the whole article. Usually just headlines, sometimes a line or two or maybe a paragraph. It shouldn’t be avoided completely, but a lot of news junkies think that life is knowing what brand to buy. Apparently some liberal papers think that opposition to gays had blown over until recently, because Republican law makers hadn’t been out there pounding the streets about it. Of course, during this same period, (Methodist) churches were actively dividing because the liberals wanted to stop attacking the gays and the conservatives wanted to keep on them. Of course, a lot of liberal news junkies probably thought that religion would disappear from the face of the earth back when your family would persecute you for abandoning the family faith. Pace Jack O’Neill, I can find my way around the universe, but I get lost every time I come to Washington. Or, I can find my way around Washington, but I get lost every time I try to explore the universe. I know one news junkie who thinks that the new age movement died in the 70s. I guess that that’s the last time it was in the news, at least stereotypically—or else he just thinks sloppily, (if occasionally precisely), or else he doesn’t go book buying.


(deleting headlines without reading them) Read about the Jewish Conspiracy making it hard for White Men, on Fox News. And later, come git sum nice Southern porn—the sinful kind!

I hate to tell you, but I really don’t think that a Southerner can be a Christian, in any meaningful way. I don’t mean people in certain states, in a literal, geographical way. (And, on the other hand, Southerners can be anywhere.) But it’s a very pagan mindset. It’s anti-Christian—and mind-bogglingly Dishonest.


You can only read so much, and you shouldn’t try to give up everything else; no matter what you do you can only read so much—not everything, not all of even one field (and you shouldn’t try, shouldn’t turn yourself into a monoculture), not much compared to your average local library. But you can read a lot in a meaningful sense; you can read a lot, more than enough to change several times.


Paul: Work out your own salvation in fear and trembling.
George: And think for yourself, because I won’t be there with you.
*they chill for a minute about how well this gels*
Regina: And throw away those ankle socks! All of them!
John: Why? What’s this now?
Regina: *mad* Don’t argue as though this were fucking philosophy class! *happy again* Going to work love you bye! *slams*
John: Yo this shit here is severe.
Paul: Just throw away the ankle socks, John. No one can possibly explain every little thing to you, no matter who it is.
George: But maybe he’ll write you another letter if he gets time.

These are the thoughts my mind thinks when I can’t quite get that extra thing done....


“It is better to leave each in (their) own opinion, than to enter into arguments.”

—The Imitation of Christ, quoted in Story of a Soul

Consider my opinion to be juxtaposed with yours, like in a meeting; be kind to me, and say there is no argument.


“Be not too vexed by hardships, nor when fortune’s fair

Too joyful. Men of worth should take what comes.

Don’t ever swear that such and such will never be:

The gods resent it, and the outcome’s theirs.”

(Greek Lyric Poetry)


Peter: Lord, I have aversion!

Jesus: Just accept it.

Peter: Ok! I’m clinging!

Jesus: Just accept it.


Dr. Jung: *throws hands off wide as an admission/concession* Although you should keep in mind, it can be difficult to differentiate between an intuition and a prejudice.
Young Student: *starts coughing violently as a spontaneous expression of extreme discomfort*


Music: Once I wanted, and it was like I was looking for some dead pirate that never existed; it was all so impossible and yet I was still bad, anyway. (He died for love! He raped somebody!) And then I turned away from the impossible to the given, and tried doing things that people actually wanted me to do, and yet sometimes I would be angry that they would smear it like shit under my nose everywhere I went. (The thing about children and housing is similar: you’re supposed to believe that the middle-class family is productive/moral and broke intellectuals are less, but if you’re poor, you’re supposed to stay poor, and nobody is going to help you get married and have a family. It’s like there’s a quota of defeat that needs to be fulfilled, a quota of ideology expulsion, although they still imagine themselves to be everyone…. And, of course, talking to random stranger whose genes you think you need is stupid; I guess that they’re right about that; that’s what they theoretically base their life on.) But now, I don’t know. There’s good music, and there’s bad music, and people make unobjectionable chords base and mean by getting cray all the time, but, I don’t know. —The waters of March…. It’s the end of all strain; it’s the joy in your heart. (Antonio Carlos Jobim). And most music is about getting drunk and getting high and bragging about it—country music is about getting drunk and bragging about it, and they play it in public, and it’s not even disguised; they brag about their lack of word-skill…. But. But we do like to feel good, even when we haven’t done a damn thing to deserve it, and don’t intend to.


[Music etc: Although it can be easy to deceive with lots of abstraction—I believe in Christ and God and grace and the gospel, and I’m not being held accountable for my actions, or even letting people I seek out for talking know what they are—but I think it’s even easier with music.

So many white Americans take so much from Black culture and give so little back. It’s easy to have a certain superficial desire for brown-skinned musical honorary white sidekicks to want to associate with you, to really make you look good, and so that they can teach you how to spend your money on black living, although, you know. “That’s my money.” But you know, They shouldn’t have their own stories, you know…. They shouldn’t have their own consciousness. EYE haven’t read the books; EYE have the answers!…. It’s important to be able to reserve the right to sing a song like you live one way, and then to live your life another way, once the music stops…. Maybe if life were a movie, they’d be playing some happy song over people verbally gangstering each other, and actually sometimes people do fight with the radio on in the background, and they wouldn’t dream of listening to rap, or even pop punk, even. “I know I only look out for myself…. *sunglasses* But I live the right way.”

And, you know, the music can be quite beautiful….

…. At the mall the other day I heard a famous Katy Perry song, and I thought it was quite philosophical; you know she was raised by Two preachers, ha! (It’s good to be educated…. Everyone should be educated…. Want to be educated, boys? Girls, go play. But not sports, lol.)

‘Cause you (O man)

You’re hot then you’re cold

You’re yes then you’re no

You’re in then you’re out

You’re up then you’re down

You’re wrong when it’s right

It’s black and it’s white

We fight, we break up

We kiss we make up….

—Poor girlie, she desires a more philosophical life, a life of wisdom, but in this cruel world she cannot find a partner suitable for her….


(gutter magazines) Look great after 80: Get ready to meet God—Look your best.


TV/films: A lot of TV is slop, but I don’t want to turn that into some vain rule. The only rule I have is that I buy the things and then watch them twenty or thirty minutes at a time, regardless of how long it is—three hours, doesn’t matter, I’ll be seeing it in 20-30 minute chunks. TV is far too immersive and that can be a problem. But a TV season can be a bit like a genre novel in a series, a trio (a little rule I have) of movies by the same director like a collection of short stories. 

[I mean, a lot of movies are shit, although I don’t try to watch them all and put a number on it, although I’m also always impressed with how stupid many of the reviews are. (“Your unimaginative Bible adaption is ‘wrong’ in the number of peasants in the fourth scene.” Effing materialists, no talent, seems like, right.) One of the worst things is how everything is supposed to be ‘new’, like every generation can literally re-invent reproduction, and if babies learn to crawl a little bit like babies in the past, the movie’s a scam. Cynical! I mean, we go to these people, who are like, I don’t ever like movies, and I’ve seen all of them! I’ve seen all of them, and I know everything, and so if there’s anything I already know, it’s garbage. —And the person can literally stand there and untell untrue cultural stories, and the critic is so disengaged with the peasants, that they don’t notice, because they don’t care…. And of course, people also tend to go to movies to research what jewelry to buy, so you can also get away with shoveling excrement down people’s throats, and the critics studiously ignore something like that that might matter to people, and probably just write the review based on whether they’re going through a divorce with their rich, shallow spouses.

I’m sorry, but it’s true, you know. “Of course my life’s a wreck! I have every right, so don’t get gooey on me! And don’t make me watch lewd movies, unless I can show them to my film class!]


Novels: I need a certain amount of fiction to keep me grounded; people sleep and wake up and eat, and people talk to each other; people live and sky is blue and trees can be rather tall, right. Munching on too much abstraction isn’t good for you; it’s not all of you, not even all of your mind.

Although of course the simplest mind candy part of stories, plot—first it didn’t happen, but, then it did—isn’t all. But it can be difficult to investigate the themes and what the story tells us about societies and ourselves, without simply mining it for factoids. A spark of inspiration is required, and one cannot get it by grasping at it. (I read all of “Childhood/Boyhood/Youth”, and I like Tolstoy, but all I consciously got out of several hundred pages was, you know, How terrible everything is. “This Just In: Things Terrible”. Not a good theme, not worth telling anybody, as no half-baked thesis is.)


Sometimes I wonder what the traditional Romanophobe Protestant, laboring under the impression that everybody had better be Victorian, does with, “.... And came and preached peace to you which were afar off, and to them that were nigh.”

(reads Ephesians 2:17, above) *closes Bible* And that’s why we can’t read novels. Goodnight, children.

But Daddy, it said the opposite!

Children, it’s in the Bible, so it must be Victorian. *blows out the light*

.... They do similar things with Shakespeare, of course. With the populars (not the classics) you are dealing with things farther off, but perchance God comes to them FIRST.

…. …. But people just don’t believe what they believe.

[Cf I MYSELF will not accuse you; MOSES will accuse you.]

…. [And I myself, I the Lord, will allure you, O Israel. Daddy, what does allure mean? —I cannot tell you what allure means. —But what is God doing, Daddy? —I can’t tell you what God is doing, you little shit!]


Although…. I got in the habit of viciously purging and giving or throwing away books I wasn’t going to read or didn’t see the value of when I was given a nasty attic’s clutter full of books, relatively early in youth, and I’ve come to think that getting rid of books I’m not going to read (once or again) and don’t see the value of, even if it’s not important from a storage point of view, (although in some cases it could be, obviously), has a beautifully clarifying effect, focusing my thinking and stopping me from wasting time. You can always repurchase a book that has merit and wins the prize after all, but if you never cull you essentially can’t organize and are paying to have a mess on your hands. And usually I don’t have second thoughts, really. Good books are worth paying for and bad books are worth less than empty notebooks from the dollar store, really.

Also, after in my vain youth thinking that *everything* that I wrote was interesting, I gradually came to realize that *much* of what I wrote was defective either in whole or in part; I have now finally realized that *essentially all* of my first drafts stand in need of substantial revision.


Misc. I like Jack personally, but sometimes he was afraid of the future (ie not a Teilhard.) Jack said he was against what he called “Christianity And”, and from the examples he gave I guess he was afraid of the pedantization of the gospel, (*) and I’m sure there’s something to this. However, I believe that *there is a Jesus for everybody*; He would not be Who He is, were this not so, if he were just the creature of some clique faction or type of personality. Perhaps Jack would agree, but I think where I lose him is that I think he thinks sometimes on some level of this Jesus who is “for everybody” by virtue of being For Nobody, stripped down instead of “a Jesus for everybody”. But how is this not a sort of sadness (I am not a lawyer); a sort of belief in an un-incarnated Christ who ceases be God, or anything but a bother, once his feet alight on the dust outside where his family lives….

…. “…. my God….” Paul

“Lord, show us the Father, and it suffices us.” Generic moron disciple

(*) The preacher could be your normality guru; you could talk with him about which traffic light in the town works the best.


About Other People’s Reviews (of books they deem “theological”):

“How To Be A Good Person” was ALMOST a good book, because it could have helped me be a good person, (as if that were a worthy goal for a big person), and it was written well, containing both big and little passages, but I don’t know. (Irregularities. Mysterious, irregularities. Trump must have won this election. Look at this ballot, for example. Who cast this ballot? It’s all very irregular. Most impolite—like that kaffir Mandela, asking the Prime Minister about the natives! The natives are rude!) The grammar is very imprecise, at times, not being in the old Latin style, and it’s almost as though the book were written for non-specialists—thus the title, I’m sure!—and although there were some references to Jesus and the Bible, the rôle of Jesus in overthrowing the dictatorship of Perseus (preferably given in Greek, or at least, Latin), was not explored. To be a good person, you must…. Explore!


I read more than one book at a time. Many more. I find it easier.


Just briefly: diversity is part of integrity; you still have to be honest about whatever you choose to speak about, and it’s nice to go deep into the abstract ‘nature of things’, but without virtuous action towards people of all backgrounds—to the extent humanly possible, just like we’re always limited, to some extent even in our honesty, (automatic, reactive instinctual thoughts that aren’t true) let alone metaphysics—without that diversity there’s no integrity, no morality….


Literature, total: 84

N.B. Where the editor and source of folklore differ, this is noted

I: 33 (1 H, 1 ME, 1 w/ME, 4 w/II)

II: 34 (2 ME; 1 w/III or IV, B; 1 w/III or IV, N; 1 w/I-ME)

III: 9 (4 B 4 A 1 N)

IV: 8 (5 B 2 A 1 N)

Spiritual psychology, total: 24

I: 10

II: 8

III: 2 (2 A)

IV: 1 (1 B)

N/A: 3

General history, sociology and politics, total: 24

I: 13

II: 5

III: 3 (3 B)

IV: 1 (1 M)

N/A: 2

Music, total: 22

I: 8 (1?, 1 H, 1 w/III or IV, B)

II: 4

III: 9 (2 A?, 1 A, 5 B, 1 N?)

IV: 1 (1 A)

Christian memoir, total: 20

I: 8

II: 8

III: 1 (1 B)

IV: 3 (2 B, 1 M)

Interfaith, total: 19

I: 8 (2 J)

II: 3 (1 J)

III: 7 (6 A, 1 N)

IV: 1 (1 B)

Diversities, total: 24

I: 5 (1 Q, 1 H)

II: 7 (1 J, 1 Q, 1 ME, 1 N)

III: 7 (5 B, 2 A)

IV: 4 (3 B, 1 A)

N/A: 1

General psychology (cognitive biological popular), total: 20

I: 10

II: 8

III: 1 (1 B)

IV: 1 (1 B)

Audiobooks, total: 11

I: 6 (1 w/ME)

II: 4

III: 0

IV: 1 (1 B)

Bibles & Bible commentaries & analysis, total: 10

I: 8

II: 2 (1 J)

III: 0

IV: 0

Christian practices & devotions, total: 12

I: 6

II: 5

III: 1 (1 B)

IV: 0

Christian sermons & essays, total: 8

I: 6 (1 H)

II: 1

III: 1 (1 B)

IV: 0

“Practical”, total: 5

I: 3 (1 J)

II: 2

III: 0

IV: 0

Art [subjects same as authors unless noted], total: 7

I: 4 (1 w/IV, B)

II: 2

III: 1

IV: 0

Christian theology, total: 6

I: 5

II: 1

III: 0

IV: 0

general TV shows, total: 5

I: 3 (1 H)

II: 1

III: 0

IV: 0

N/A: 1

Christian psychology, total: 5

I: 1

II: 3

III: 1

IV: 0

Nature & science: 5

I: 2

II: 1

III: 2 (1 A, 1 B)

IV: 0

general philosophy: 6 [n.b. not audiobooks]

I: 4

II: 1

III: 1

IV: 0

Films: 5

I: 3

II: 1

III: 1

IV: 0

Church history etc: 4

I: 3 (1 w/III or IV)

II: 1

III: 0

IV: 0


The world is full of illness and petty nonsense—when the robots take over, I’m going to ask to be made a professor—but at least I didn’t die a slow, painful, young COVID death, right.


I had a nice short visit with my mom just now. (She has to prepare for Uncle Steve’s birthday.) It was like a sort of amends to each other, more so than our usual time together. We even exchanged mantras (Jesus’ blood is my blood and hers is something about Maharaji— Shree Neem Karoli Baba…. something something.) She even wrote my a note that is an intelligent note with some content, but not like a page copied from a book, which would be more usual for her. And she had food for me like always; she likes that, and it’s good…. I remember once I tried to make amends by taking her financial advice—she was very attached to it—and I lived to rue the day. But it’s funny now.

About Me

“I choose all!”


Thoughts happen.


Thoughts perish. (‘In that day, his thoughts perish.’)

I wear many hats, (actually I don’t; fashion’s not what I’m good at), and I would never say that you have to do what I do because I do it, (although I plan on forming some vegan splinter cells—we’re gonna get on some watch lists 🥸), but I am a part of the Domestic and Foreign Missionary Society, (the Episcopal Church). “…. Return no one evil for evil…. Comfort the afflicted, indeed, honor all people”.

And remember to wear that nice shirt. Everyone else will be wearing an even nicer shirt. 😸

Except for the cat. (Maybe.) 👑


(mind numbing social engagement)

Head Eckie (cf Head Six from RDM’s Battlestar Galactica): Everything that happens, happens for your enlightenment.

—*nods* Right.

It actually could have been worse. I guess, in a way, it couldn’t have been better, you know.

(But I’m still funny.)


“He will be silent in his love.” (Zephaniah 3:17, alt. reading) 🧘‍♂️


I am now (Nov. 2022) Mastodon’s silentword on and most of my miscellaneous crap will probably go there from now on.


This is a little kitschy and fake (because it’s October), but sometimes I feel like I have a head full of screams, you know. People just talk and talk, and it’s like stream that doesn’t stop flowing until you drown. God knows you’ll never organize it. Ah, introvert-pain; it’s intense….


[NB, second typing, Danke mucho, iPhone!]

Carly reports a Greek saying to the effect that, If you give away what you have, then you will start to receive; they could have added, (and this is where my personal history comes in), that if you throw away what you have in a fit of temper, then God throws the life you want, at your head.

I don’t know, which is why I gotta start doing a Tara B, and be like, Don’t load the page just because I asked you to; really do what’s right for you.

[Funnier and funnier each time I type it, Evil Apple?]


I like geese. Sometimes I stop and look at a goose.

I know that there is a garden. (cf Rohr, Everything Belongs).


A lot of skeptics and a lot of believers are agreed that life is about power. “You can’t control it!” “Yes I can!!!!”

Saying something is “dangerous” is usually code for thinking that you’re entitled to Hitler it away, a la indiane americaine, just like we did with the red man, but…. I don’t know. That’s not safe thinking. “Life’s about power.” Watch me back away slowly.


“We know…. by loving, because love is itself knowledge.”



“If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim”

~ obvs Kipling, quoted, “The Making of a Black Psychologist”


I’m very cultured, but deep down, I’m superficial.

There are shallow waters down there, below the ice….


I LIKE to be productive, but sometimes I’ve got to start asking myself, Not, Is it productive?, but, Does it cause shame?


‘in quietness of conscience and trust in God’s mercy’ (BCP)


I’m full of contradictions!

/reads Austen’s Northanger Abbey/

Not giving popular media its due is wrong.

/reads Tolstoy’s Resurrection/

Being a good person is more important than reading 1001 books.

/looks at list/ 999 books to go!


I don’t want to ‘judge’ or ‘rank’ Mary and Martha (from the gospels) too much; when their brother Lazarus died, both had similar reactions, saying that they were sure that Jesus could have healed him before he died, which even the crowd who had seen Jesus perform other miracles only saw as an intriguing possibility. But there is a difference—not that I want to sink Battleship Martha, you know, but on the other hand, it’s easy to miss. Martha, is portrayed as being very practically-minded and almost impatient with spirituality I guess you could say, especially for women, and therefore, implicitly against spirituality for the spirit instead of for conformity and normality, is despite all this capable of having some personal faith in Jesus and probably some form of awakening to the eternal aspect of life in the form of her brother’s death. At least, she starts to question maybe for the first time, and Jesus answers her questions, nudging her out of nominalism and right-answer-ism. “Lord, I hear we get a multiple choice test when we die.” Mary, who has been questioning and seeking and even maybe knowing Jesus for years, although we don’t know how long really, but maybe her whole life, who knows, simply experiences her brother's death, with the Lord, and has the Master enter into her grief.


“Many consider sorrow to be one of life’s comforts.”

Kierkegaard’s “A”

…. But I like feeling sad. *funny voice* It’s deep inside! Deep inside!



I don’t matter, in the best possible way. (*)

[I like talking to my friend from meetings, because I don’t talk about myself as much as people from meetings do, who talk, but he’s the same way. I’ll mention what happened to me and say why it happened, and he'll say things, and then we’ll talk about books. With him I can say, you know—I’m not really interested in what happens to me because it happens to me, but because it’s the sort of thing that happens in the world—and it doesn’t sound pretentious because he’s the same way. He goes to church unless he stays home to read a book. I’m that kind of person.]

(*) ‘I don’t matter. It doesn’t matter what happens to me.’ Ironically mucho, what can bring you joy does sound a bit to the humorless clinician a lot like being suicidal. (Cf that passage of Paul’s, To die is gain, that atheists or whoever, well.) To feel like things don’t matter, that my little life is not important, is a prerequisite to joy, (although of course joy itself is a gift you still won’t always receive in this life). And yet if you said, It doesn’t matter, Oh How THAT Matters, you’d want to kill yourself.

Otherwise, you’re a butterfly.


“…. O hush the noise and cease your strife and hear the angels sing.”


I’m codependent; for me now that seems to be the false idea I hold that by avoiding people I can control what happens to me. (I used to be much more passive aggressive and try to control people flat out, and avoid them more totally, which was worse.)


“I’d be sad…. but I understand the world does what it does.”


Sometimes I imagine Jesus flying through the galaxy with his arms outstretched, past planets and stars—he’s the Brazil Statue Jesus, and I think he likes Kenny G.


And, (Mom or Dad), I don’t want the world to see me, because I don’t think that they’d understand; when everything’s made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.

~ paraphrase


There is a difference between critical thinking and a critical spirit. I like learning better than Top40 radio, but I hope I never whine about a book I learned from because I am above being pleased.


If we really knew that God is God, we wouldn’t be anxious for ourselves or try to hurt our fellows.


Aquarius, Enneagram Type 6.


And ‘Remember that they sit in Moses’ seat, but don’t imitate their hypocritical lives’ totally means Sure read the racist devotional writer’s words of love, but don’t live out, his, love.


Church: I’m an Episcopalian and I go to church every Sunday I don’t work. We’re a declining group, as all the old denominations are, although I think it just speaks to the ad-y and superficial spirit of the times, because the old words are beautiful, and you can work just as hard on racism as anybody else and still say the old words…. And a lot of people do. I served at the altar today (3/6/22) and I saw the attendance note—almost forty people. It never looks like much because the building can hold a lot more, and anyway we’re almost all either before or after young adulthood, except for me, I guess, but I’m an old man. And a duck-child. Not an ad-y young adult, which I guess explains why we don’t have that HomeGoods appeal. Still, forty people, and it was by no means unusual; I think if you had forty people at a coffee shop on a Saturday night every Saturday night, and a couple of your friends were doing similar stuff in their own little coffee shops at around the same time, and you could get forty people (and forty people and forty people….), and it was by no means unusual, people would tell you to write a book, they would not be writing you off as dead. (Unless being dead starts at forty, right.)


Most people don’t really live out their beliefs, especially if their beliefs have more than a mouse’s ambition. For myself, for all of my beliefs, in my passion, internally, I want to treat the wretches just as they have treated me and my friends, and I have another weakness or two, as well.


It’s true that Jesus is God, although the New Testament is reluctant to put it so bluntly—congratulations to the man Jesus, you are God, you win the prize: please see one of the ushers for details…. It’s true and it matters, but in the sense it doesn’t matter much, as he implied himself.

What matters is that God is Christ; that God is God; that God is Love, and not a lie.


God makes people innocent so he can let them off, and we try to make people guilty so we can punish them.


I am a living sacrifice, whole and without blemish.


“…. I am one of those gentle ones that will use the devil himself with courtesy.”

The Clown, Twelfth Night


Of course, in a way we should not be mislead, when someone “dialogues” with you, with a closed heart and a closed mind, treating with contempt, and mostly with reference to what their church buddies (or whatever) will think, labeling and dismissing you and trying to extend the conversation to get a rise out of you—we should not be misled; that is unchristian and we should not have expectations of people who are wrong and will not be corrected as though they were like the sane, but rather they are “the heathen” (Matthew) and not the church, and we should treat them as such—not, indeed!, indeed!, with contempt, (for is that how you evangelize?), but as though we do not expect high-quality emotional and intellectual offerings, do not expect the truth, are not misled.

But then, life in the body (and mind, the earthly life), is I suppose a dialogue, so those guys, should you choose to engage them—even, perhaps, in a way, if you do not, “for no answer is also an answer”, as the Germans say regarding certain forbearers of theirs—then they, no matter how deluded or evil (or whatever) they may seem or even be, they are your wisdom partners, your partners in the dialogue, like any affair of Socrates or Aquinas, and by speaking of rejection they seek of knowledge of acceptance, by speaking of hate they seek knowledge of love, by speaking lies they express in ways they do not know or understand, nor has it entered into their mind, that they want the truth.


[Of course, sometimes I feel not free, not righteous, like I’m dying and I don’t want that feeling, you know…. But that’s not my baseline; that’s extreme emotional rebellion against me.

…. I guess if my life were all about me and me getting my way, I would be in trouble. I don’t know. It’s not that I never want anything.

…. I am small; I am whole. I am free. I have been made righteous. I shall not die but live. I accuse no body.]


“And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same?”


I was reading Claudio de Castro, who writes a lot of, Dios te ama, stuff, and I know that He loves me, but I don’t usually think about it. It’s a little abstract. And I’m not the most vengeful person, but I usually don’t see the Love side of it, either. Usually I see an evil world, and I think, How permissible that in a world like this we should all share in the things it offers, including me, so I deal.

But I was just out walking, doing my mantra, Bless the Lord; Bless the Lord; Bless the Lord—and I kinda got that when he says, Bless and do not curse, it matters to him that we do right, not only in the wise even handed way, but that he really loves our blessing; he loves our doing right.

And everything is possible. In the world you see things only distorted, to one degree or another, but in itself, everything good is possible.


A lot of Christian clergy in the past have been lawyers/military historians/scumbags who beat their wives, so ‘and God counted it to him for righteous’ (you have to hear a better translation before you realize how Latin-y and wooden it is, what we have in our head), comes off like, God gives Abraham an order, and Abraham immediately saluted and went off singing stupidly, One two three four beat your wife down to the floor!

But really God offers Abraham his heart’s desire, and the little tyke believed that it was possible.


He does not desire that any should perish, although he doesn’t demand that he always get his way.


I like people, but sometimes groups larger than two (including me), make me shut down. Doctors call that titrating, I think, you gotta titrate it just right.


One of the reasons I believe in hell is that the crackers (if you like…. quite a descriptive word though) would only be offended by being told that they aren’t going to hell only because no one is, so it seems that the procedure would be rather vain, and not a mercy…. Some people just don’t want to have things the other way. 

Edit: That is true, in a sense, and I don’t want to patronize anybody; on the other hand, I don’t know. Obviously, in the end, people create the eternity that, on some level, they want, so, I don’t know. The important thing is that we hope for the best even for people who don’t think that good is possible for them or permissible for us; that’s love.


I know that there are some Republicans who aren’t Trump people; you don’t get that as much from the Internet or whatever, stereotypically, but I know someone like that. Liberals believe things too, and I guess at times it must seem like a lot to believe.

It’s not my own thing, but I guess that people are entitled to angle on their career and then go home and watch TV, instead of solving racism. There is still a certain amount of overlap of opinions with people who are more easily troubled by injustice. Maybe some people just find it easier to sleep at night and go through life calmly. Like I say somewhere, I may look calm on the outside to many people, but I often can’t even read a book without losing my peace. I went through a period of my life where I wished that I was different, which was very vain.


The sad thing about the Republican Party is that many people who voted for the Bushes also voted for Trump; the less sad thing is that there are people who are more likes Bushes than Trumps, however they vote, and presidential elections aren’t the only thing that determines whether or in what way a country is unjust. Many people are not really gremlins, you know, although some people more than others are resting in little grooves inside their minds, and some grooves are better than others. Some people are limited in the opposite way; it’s just as a rule in the USA of the 2020s the right is more afraid of compromise than the left as a rule. But that doesn’t make everyone with a taller shadow a gremlin, you know. And, pace the literalists, some people really don’t mean all of what they say. Of course, just because you’re not a gremlin doesn’t mean that you won’t go to hell if you’re too indifferent to good. I don’t want to smother you with toleration.


Radio Singer: Someday when you leave me, I bet these memories, follow, you, around.

—Hmm. Well, yes: but only because of capitalism.


I know; I know. But it’s funny how “self-accusatory” songs can be.

—Bro, my sexual practices are Wicked; it’s Wrong!

—So change them.

—(to his bro) Bro, get a load of this guy. No, bro, I got this.

I mean, I know that when I was the girlie I felt sad; but that was a secret, not a radio broadcast. When you start telling your secrets in public, maybe it’s gone out of control. (Broadcast to the known world, triple platinum Top 40 certified! —Certified…. psychiatrically?)


We all have our predilections; I’ve always favored the humanities over the sciences, sometimes too narrowly, but really I am interested in what is true. My special province is religion, but that is merely to say, ‘Everything’.

[Or: the purification of Motive.]


Black Lives Matter
Girls just want to have fundamental human rights
Immigrants make America great
Love is love
Science is real
Kindness is everything
And even if you don’t,
God loves the poor


The Mental Illness Symposium on the Role of Eating in Normality—

Are you eating?


Are you chewing?


You’re chewing because you’re eating?


You’re chewing because you’re eating. Wow. I figured you probably were eating, because you were chewing. I had to ask though, because I didn’t really know what to do. Is your food tasty?


It looked like you were enjoying it. I know things, you know; I know things. I don’t know how to do what I don’t want to do, just to protect myself, you know; I’ve got to protect myself—but I know things, and I can use my great knowledge to protect you.



Are you eating now?

No, I’m not eating now.

Oh ok; I didn’t mean to bother you. I know it’s none of my business—I don’t mean to get in your business. Have a great and wonderful day, ok!


Calvin: …. So the sinner, although he has no choice but to sin, also has no excuse.

—That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard. I’m leaving.

Donald Jackson: Hi my name is Master Donald Jackson, and I’m a tin can cracker despot in training. Don’t hate me, because that’s all I have inside to offer the world.

—*turns right around* Hey Jack, I hear you’ve written a book.

Calvin: *eyes get misty* I’ve written many books.


The two cultures: It’s strange that you walk in any bookstore, you look at any television, obviously you’re going to find, you know, The Mediocre White Family: Their Triumph…. And maybe, maybe there’s also, The Exceptionally Successful Black Person: Now They’re Black, Now They’re Not….

And then the white people actually start to feel sorry for themselves! because someone might not choose them! but instead might go for the nuh, the nuh, the—NAH!!!

(Whites are allowed to act black; Blacks have to act white: or else…. And, you know, even then.)


—I’m just a Muggle girl in a Hogawarts world.

—You reversed it!

—Because all this is something I am not.


“Why have I found grace in thine eyes, that thou shouldest take knowledge of me, seeing I am a stranger?”

Ruth 2:10b (@‘)

~ me to every non-Aryan teacher who has influenced me lol (and I was born on 2/10)


—For you will call me my husband, and no longer will you call me my Baal, my master.

—Of course; you’re not Baal; you’re…. Super-Baal! Hey guys look! It’s time for the Super-Baal! The Super-Baal is here!




If your heart is stony, you’ll be fickle.
If your heart is thorny, you’ll be worried by the world and deceived by money.

If your heart is soft—good and fertile—you’ll understand.

~ Pepe Gonzalez on the “Parable of the Sower” (paraphrase/translation)


(“There’s nothing quite like a love that *knows*.” Roma Downey)


(Democratic Party backs Trump freaks in Republican primaries: I don’t comment on a lot of day to day political stuff, but getting the non-freak Republicans (I don’t care if they don’t even have the answers on this or that, unlimited Trump would be an unmitigated disaster, and that’s playing with fire to win Washington points) defeated in primaries to theoretically seat an extra Democrat or two, even if to do it you have to air aids further enracist-ing and poisoning the culture, (remember the rest of us?), and it’s just so Immoral….

I don’t care if it gets the Democrats fifty House seats and ten Senate seats for a hundred years—why’d you get them? What are they there for? At what price do you sell yourself, and what part of yourself do you sell?

It’s like the battle between the ‘leaders’ trying to figure out the worst thing, to tell people that, and the ‘leaders’ trying to figure out (sorta) what people already believe, or will believe, to tell them that.

Is there anybody in America who thinks, I don’t know, maybe just don’t be a selfish racist person?)


(—Before (the coup) I liked him

While it can be distressing, of course, to hear somebody say, you know, “I like Trump but he’s a bully”, like, you know, Bullies are…. Strong. Leaders! (They just need to do the right thing.) But of course, sometimes you will meet someone who doesn’t know who to believe, who knows that people are crooked, who knows there’s corruption, (interpretation:) who just kinda wants to replace it with baseball; let’s get a baseball guy in there, right. (And I mean, obviously that’s psycho.) But despite what we think of that, there are of course problems with the technocratic class, even if we can’t replace them with baseball players, you know.

But there are many technocratic people who aren’t really as much better as they think they are, because it’s just better-informed opinion, but still a kind of opinion-thwacking, with varying degrees of coldness and roughness.

…. Sometimes it some great pain, and sometimes it’s a little pain and a lack of teaching by someone who speaks their language, so to speak.)


(@‘) Though of course you make people angry if you’re a sniveling weakling who likes to apologize. The callous will in no way serve as someone’s excuse. It’s not good to forget who you are, and people have a dignity wrapped up in them…. After all, if Black people were sniveling weaklings we’d make them apologize for their black skin. This world would make a body apologize for his religion, his virtues, his good deeds.

…. Humility, false humility—pairs of opposites.

Oh well.

“I can sell you a book that will explain to you the difference between humility and false humility,” said the Sly Fox. “The better that you might deceive yourself.”

“Really?” asked the Sniveling Weakling.

“Sure,” said the Sly Fox. “That and a bag of chips.”


I like reading books but to some extent I’ve always had trouble in school, because I struggle with relationships, but really school is not fulfilling for most people, either not waking them up to the life of the mind, so to speak, or else being deeply frustrating despite a liking for ideas. (It is true that some expensive schools are better, but since elitism is what can make school so infuriating, I would tend to put an upper limit to this, if you like.) It’s all kinds about being male and correct, you know. (Partly this is a same-parent thing for me, my dad tries to appear very callous and intellectual, mean, if you like. There is some floppy thinking in schools, but I don’t look like that. And it can’t really dominate even where it predominates, because it’s not male and correct.) It is instructive that there are more girls in college today, but I think that’s still the same house with new paint. Girls have to seem male and correct, or else they’re deficient, and they don’t want to be deficient anymore. (You’ll notice there are several places I couldn’t gone ‘ ‘, but ‘ ‘ is only there for the wise, not the greedy hordes, and we should remember what lies we tell, like any liar should.) But you treat a guy, a young guy, like that—you know, like: I am not your friend! You will have to work for many years before you evolve out of fascist juniors! I don’t want this to be like 1918 again! You’re garbage! Nine points off your test score!—and you just kinda get a, No…. Fuck, YOU. Fuck, YOU. Ok. Glad we figured that out.

Although the real problem with school today is the greed, often for reputation and always for money, always, whether floppy or fascistic. And I don’t really think it’s better at Better Schools.


But oh the struggle to be kind, is cruel....


I also forget, when I struggle to develop myself, that I am not really this intellect, but the love that uses it.


Flinty materialists want integrity without honesty, and woo woo people want honesty without integrity.


I used to get these automatic negative thought processes where I’d imagine my father cornering me and forcing me to defend my beliefs about God, you know. [Competition would arise: debate team crap; ideas don’t matter because I’m the best father and my opponents should drop dead, but I also have the best ideas: discuss.] I used to tread water by imagining it distorted and comical like in some sort of artsy musical, but now I see that I can just close that door inside my mind. Such an unequal debate could never be allowed to take place. How completely stupid it would be of me to be so crazy as to take this imagined challenge to unequal debate as a serious face value description of reality. “Let’s fight! Or are ya scared?” “Terrified.” And it’s the least I can do, not to further increase his sin, as I did increase his sin as a teenager when we really did have these scrapes about what I then believed, back in my days of passionate ambivalence. And anyway, usually they just talk about taxes and the price of milk—not that impermissible opinions about taxes and the price of milk can be tolerated by sanctimonious man. How then can I speak to him about the four last things (as he would not call it)? How could I justify that? Why even imagine it? Even to imagine it—that’s not right. 

Edit: Letting Grace in, and reactivity out.

[~~ I guess that the answer that has been given me is that the end of all his rants in mind you have to add: “…. and not only that, but my wife is probably out drinking.” Yes, this is the answer—the wound that will not heal. “And my wife is probably at home drinking right now: my father will think I’m a bad boy.” *buries face in hands*

*looks up* “And to think (politics, history, etc)!”]

[ (Friday the 13th May 2022) I’ve started to notice with both of my parents, me paying less attention to what people say and more to why they say it. Of course, in a way I did this before in a bad way, that was the Hitler jokes-REALLY you think…. I can’t say, or know, of course, what changed, but something shifted. I just try to pay attention to why they say what they say—they’re my parents—and who cares about their psycho opinions and how life is a Schopenhauer mistake for me.]


— (Today was the first day getting carts in the parking lot that I really saw the trees. The trees were really there for me.

Before it was like, I saw the car that said, you know, Go to church, or go to jail, and so was like…. I don’t know, the jokes just happened, and I didn’t like it. (I mean, I went to church yesterday, maybe I should call the newspapers and brag….).

But today…. The trees are so vast, and so old…. They’re the trees, you know…..

I did see one number sticker when Jamie the church historian (very nice energy) was driving me in: Jesus Is Enough.

And the thing is (this is not worse)—Jesus is not enough for your whole life, the part that hasn’t happened yet; he’s enough for your whole life, as it happens. “He gives you your ticket, when you get on the train.” (Casper ten Boom).

And as much as I wanted it to be over so I could write this down, I thought, When I go back inside that building, I won’t be able to see these trees anymore….

Of course I went back in; it was fine because I still learned things—she was like, telling me there’s this idiom in Spanish, I dog alone. She said it and I was like, You have a dog? I didn’t really get it. I still don’t know what it means, you know.

But that’s just the way of things.

[I almost forgot but it’s good:

It’s not that I am enlightened, you know. It’s not, Jesus Is Enough, for me to be carved in rock on the mountain of heaven, you know. I am being enlightened, now; Jesus Is Enough, for that.

But I’m with people and they start talking about how much a French fry cost in 1950, or which new TV show is really you know, I heard a car blew up!, and I’m like—I don’t think there even is a tree anymore.

There’s no such thing.])


On Hitler: The thing about Hitler is that not every Hitler is really Hitler; usually they’re just Schicklgruber, the tin-hat Cartoon Hitler who loses power after the 1934 tussle with Rohm…. Even Stalin loses all his powers eight years after the war ends, finally reaching a place where Molotov couldn’t finagle or hammer out another deal for him. Whether Stalin or Schicklgruber, how few are all our days.

Anguished: But it’s all so important!

Leprechauns: But it’s all so important!

Anguished: Stop it!

Leprechauns: Stop it!


Leprechauns: Don’t worry; you’re with the leprechauns now. You’re in the magical forest. We'll protect you from the Irish, and their chieftains.

WorkFun Announcements: Having fun in the break room? It’s nice and quiet, isn’t it? Well, don’t forget when you make a dump, to really wipe your ass good, and well, and together we can make work not just stupid, but annoying!

Leprechauns: Schicklgruber! Schicklgruber!

*they run away*


On the philosophy of history and the meaning of evil:

Marx wasn’t like Hitler, but like Wagner.

And yes, there was the devil in each one, but they were both not the devil, all the way down.

And, as it worked out, one was worse—at least in his hey-day, although the other was more successful, at least directly—but that is just how things worked out. The potential in each, the angels and the devils, were equal, only of different kinds.

(And if you really think that you’re radically disassociated from both Marx and Wagner—Little Irelander—then you’re already halfway to justifying a labor camp, because you think that you’re the only one in the world.)


I don’t pretend to be a Shakespeare expert, (I’m 36% of the way through the complete works at this writing, not counting having read many of the tragedies separately), but I love Henry VI part III—I love how he juxtaposes the monkish king and the knavish king. (H6 part I also has Joan of Arc; there are a lot of Shakespeare pieces with non-Little Englander women. Cf Much Ado About Nothing. ) Love’s Labour’s Lost was also great, because I was (basically) the pop rapist from Two Gentlemen of Verona at one point. (Damn you, Harry Styles! It’s all your fault!) Measure for Measure is possibly the best Shakespeare no one has heard of. Don’t get me wrong, the tragedies are great; there should be more tragedies today, but even in these spineless comedy movies with masked lovers that owe a lot to the Shakespeare comedies they’ll pretend to want Hamlet, you know. (Although EYE certainly love Hamlet, you know. Lol.)

So yeah.


Re: Padre Daddy-o

I mean, the thing about dad is, if he happens to say something unkind, he doesn’t quite mean it; for one thing, he’s always cracking old-fashioned jokes, you know, and so although he might say something, like to prove that he’s the best or that he’s right or something or that people do/do not agree with him, you know. But it’s not really malice; he’s just living for himself. He spends most of his time talking about activities or travel plans; he tries to give the impression that this is ‘church’, although obviously much of it is undisguised comfort and in the end all of it is about him. I don’t know. William Temple in the 1940s said this thing I’m going to paraphrase since he said it in such a way that a sensitive person wouldn’t say it that way today: but he said that the church is an organization that doesn’t exist for the benefit, or the sole benefit, of its members. Really it’s supposed to exist for other people—for people who aren’t members. I mean, I guess the membership gets the talks, you know. (Although dad always talks about activities; I went here; I heard British Casey or whatever. He never says, Today we talked about love and mercy. He might glance on theology if there’s somebody to give the boot to, but most of the time ice cream has got that beat.) And really for a lot of people, church has been something that you “prove”, you know: Unlike You, Unlike Anybody, I loooove….. And that’s why you suck. But really, people can tattoo the whole Bible across their chest and still be living for themselves. I don’t know. Then they put up this front of malice, so you have to see past that, you know. They’re not really King David’s Old Guard, you know, but sometimes it actually helps to see that they’re just (extremely old) little children pigging out on ice cream.

[Ie, Dad is the hireling, not the wolf. No awards for that, but it’s kinda funny to be afraid of the hireling, you know. All bluff.)


Mental illness: (also cf my perfect sense of humor) Sometimes there are schizophrenic messages in the world, but they are not all for me; I am a perfect person, (though I might go to the last rank in Hell—it is all very confusing), but there are other perfect people aside from me, and other recipients of the schizophrenic messages.


Whiteness: Black people look different, because of the color of their skin. This is not a conscious or legally culpable thing, but it’s there. I have it myself. White people can also ‘look different’, but almost never because they’re white (unless they’re in prison or something), so it’s often something far more transitory. Again with myself, I stretch. I walk for exercise every day, and since walking five or six miles every day can contribute to knee problems if done without stretching, there’s a knee stretch I do. It kinda makes it look like I’ve halfway fallen done; I look a bit freaky when I’m doing it, and in this society for most people tending to the body means watching football while eating pizza—we’re sedentary—so stretching is not something people are familiar with. People say things like, “Can I help you?” with a face that says, “You’re not a freak, are you?”. It doesn’t affect me much because it can only happen at most during a two minute window once or twice a day. (Really once, since I have more privacy arriving home.) It has nothing to do with my family or where I’m from, and it’s quickly over and I’m back to being outwardly-normal like everyone else. Like most people. But for Black people, it’s *not* quickly over.

They always look like they’re stretching.


“De-fund” or re-organize: I’m white and like many white people I’ve had only rare and at least partially positive experiences with police officers. At least some cops have quasi-social work functions. But yesterday I was outside the HomeGoods in Shrewsbury where I work, I was outside because it was a nice day sitting down outside the door where you don’t really sit down, waiting for mom who had insisted on picking me up even though I didn’t need it, (long story), and even though she has no sense of time, at all. Eventually a concerned cop drove by in his car and asked me if I was ok. I told him I was just waiting for mom, and he gave me a thumbs up and drove away. Ten seconds. The cop didn’t do anything wrong. But I couldn’t help but feel a little shame, as well as irritation towards my mom—being a sensitive white person—because I had attracted the attention of someone whose most essential job is restraining criminal activity. I understand that he was a concerned cop, but in a better world I think the a municipality like Shrewsbury without a violent crime problem—it’s actually very affluent and white—would have had some sort of mobile social worker instead of a well-meaning concerned cop. Sometimes I see Russell who led group therapy who must live around here—walking around, buying groceries, whatever—and it always makes me feel good. It makes me half-wish I was still in acute group therapy! But I don’t get the same feel from someone with a gun. In a better municipality, you might still have guys with guns in a bat cave somewhere—the millennium not being eternity—but I don’t think they’d be asked to wander around to make people feel safe in a quiet place. Even in Shrewsbury some people might be stranded somewhere—the, town, is affluent, not all the people who work thereabouts—but you don’t want to make that person feel like a dangerous deviant for being poor.


Racism: I’ve written about how we should do Downfall parodies about race—You’re misrepresenting my words! I’m not a racist! *throws the pencil*—but there is a danger. Obviously is we have this binary view, Hitler or antiracist, nobody will imagine themselves to be racist at all. And I don’t want to scare people. Deeper still, it’s easy not to be Hitler—everybody hates him, even the Germans!—so with this view it’s easy to be antiracist. This is an untruth. Of course, correcting some of your most egregious race faults seems like it should be easy, so maybe you won’t *really* get this until you’ve been at it for awhile. But Black people are effectively kept away from so much, that it’s hard to include them in many aspects of life, which is both bad in itself, and makes further mistreatment easier. Antiracism is not an easy thing that any sort of reasonableness will lead you to. The body/mind might find reasons, on its own level, for its attacks and/or exclusions. Only spirit/grace can really do the job. It’s no simple-to-do thing.


—(experiencing personal fear) But you know, all I ever really have to do in any situation, is Trust. (fearful but breathing calmly)

Wow, that was great.

—(5 minutes later) Hi Goosecap. You know, school is mostly about white people, and even the educated, even the enlightened, and even the leaders, or maybe even more so, I’m not sure, should be either all about whitey, or all about feeding face, and if putting a fresh new face on bigotry is the only way to feed face, then so be it.

—(throws down baseball cap on the ground) You little shits! Why did God have to make so many little shitters like you! (breathing distorted)

—(crying) I just wanted to kill the (censored)s and eat them; they have protein! Waah! Mommy!

—(trying to center) There was only one thing I had to do in any situation, but I can’t remember what it is.


Sometimes I even lack simple things, like purity. For me to eat candy on holidays and/or as emergency energy is permissible, but I hate to think that sometimes I fall for buying the stuff with the damn eggs in it, even though I know how they treat the chickens.


‘Late have I loved you….’

Oft have I lost you,
Tears have I shed,
You were loving me,
Late have I loved you.


Naturally, after being disobedient one desires to obey God’s law so as to achieve better results. Supernaturally, it is given to one to understand at some point that it is really God obeying his own law through us, when we let him, and the natural results are not important.

Cf ‘*his* (God’s) own righteousness’, not our own, commentary on phrase ‘but to seek first the things of God and his righteousness’, “Catena Aurea, Volume I, Matthew”, edited by Thomas Aquinas.

…. This is a very Christian way of speaking. Of course, in Buddhism or some allied system we might surrender to God or what is holy through meditation; the temptation, which is similar to what you might encounter in Christianity and which so enraged Luther & friends, is when you make such a damn bloody point of surrendering to God, because you’re so good at it.

We’re none of us good at it.


The Bible is often called judgmental for naming sin as sin. I think it’s easy to overlook that it also says that God is love. It holds the tension between these two things. I think it’s easy to forget, in relation to sin, that this is an exclusively religious terms only by a trick of the language. Exclusively rationalistic systems of thought, like scientific socialism, necessarily also see sin wherever they look. They don’t use the word “sin”, but they will still fight it without mercy, so they do name sin as sin as any denial here is semantics I think, distinction without difference. Christianity has also created many rationalistic systems, such as those of Luther and Calvin, and so see only excrement in the heart of man. Many new age systems are so non- or anti-rationalistic that everything becomes dreamlike and there is no sin any longer. I think that the Bible’s is a middle path, holding the tension between sin in man and love in God. Perhaps God sees man the way Jane Austen sees Emma Woodhouse: loving her, yet knowing that she’s deluded in her words, though only when she speaks.


So many stories about sixteen to twenty-four, a span of about two and a half years; I guess that’s the appeal, maybe. So few about twenty-four to thirty-two, a span of about forty or fifty years, oldster years, you know. You’ve grown up…. Whoops!


On lay monasticism/my way through life: Linguistically, although not actually, it would work better if I were a girl; If I said, I’m dating Jesus, people would (not) understand what I meant; if I say, I’m dating Mary, or, You’re pretty; you’re just not my girlfriend Mary, people will think, Oh, you have a girlfriend with that boring name, Mary.

Of course, it wouldn’t Actually work out better if I were a girl. Because if you’re a guy and you don’t want to marry, you just don’t approach anyone. (There is no 13th Step.) But if you’re a girl, people drug you and get you pregnant: which is probably what I would do, if I thought that were the only way through life.


Re: ‘witnessing’, and the ‘before all nations’ quote at the end of Matthew

Stereotypical evangelicals make ‘witnessing’ quite unfortunately comical—like you walk up to a stranger and say some platitude, so they fall on their face and confess Christ, or you give them a tract that’s one inch front and back like a business card, and it has God’s number on it, so the buzz the guy up and get blessed right away with a country music deal, right.

You see that, and then you don’t know how to communicate with anyone your faith, but I think sometimes it can come up naturally with friends of faith who want to hear about your religious experiences and have had similar things happen to them, but don’t know if they should ‘believe’ in them or trust God, since they also have doubts. Here being a signpost to Christ is legitimate and not an exercise in self-justification, since you might be an instrument in rejuvenating the faith of your brother or sister. And of course you remember that God converts, and God keeps us from falling away, and we just ask stupid questions, you know.

“Have you ever heard of Jesus Christ?”

“No, but I’ve seen ‘Where the Crawdads Sing’—was Jesus popular back in the 90s when Millennials were growing up? Was he on Nickelodeon?”


“Love’s perfect boldness on the day of judgment”


An ad for any video game:

(Image: the magical forest)

Life is…. Big. It’s nice!

(Image: orcs burning shit)

But I might die.

(Image: elves killing orcs)

But if I kill, and really do stuff, I’ll live forever.

(price point)

I’ll be happy!


I suppose that I am common, I must be, for although I do not have complaints about my own condition—not common there, but! although I do not want a different life, sometimes I am disturbed by notions, certain enough, that people do not respect me, (and life is not a self-help book turned into the feel-good movie of the year; sometimes people do not respect you), and that I couldn’t have a different life if I wanted one, *because people don’t respect me*…. And then I ask myself, mystified and a little afraid and in a small voice, But what good would it be to have something I don’t want? (“I have passed the test. I will diminish, and go into the West, and remain Galadriel”—because I did not steal those pears, for the sheer stealing of them.)


—You said that you are one of those gentle ones who use the devil himself with courtesy.

—I am.

—But the devil is TV, according to you.

—Ooo, checkmate. We’re going to have to get you to debate white people.


Which is actually kinda true, as some of my failures acolyting at church, and even making stuff look nice at HomeGoods, speak to a certain mediocrity in theatre geek visual intelligence, you know.

It’s easy to laugh at theatre gone wrong, but sometimes there really is something in just showing you something, than than explaining (‘telling’ to finish the kindergarten phrase, lol).


(after the other thing)

—Quick, what should I tell them!

—Whatever they’ll believe!

Originally this was going to be different, because it was going to be more of a disputation, but the point is…. I mean, I think I’ll be fine now, because before—even when I thought I was a mystic, which is Not Good or consistent, or actually even when I thought I was a romantic, which is Strange—that it was almost a waste of time, in a way, if I wasn’t getting towards doing the third topic in philosophy, even though I obviously did other things, (my mom is really bad about that: You know, a mystic once said…. Hey, why don’t the lights turn on? Satan! Satan! Entities! Entities! I’m going for a drink, man! Fuck this shit!), you know, Honesty/Integrity/Curiosity; don’t go crazy/honor your commitments/discover the land….

And it’s like I guess that’s my education, because whether you think you’re Frank Fitzgerald, or a ghetto high school kid, all they teach is third topic philosophy. —Let’s see, you’re a young black-man, and you don’t know who you are. I think I’ll teach you the Periodic Table of the Elements, and the names of the presidents. —I don’t know who my mom was. —That’s not part of your education. —Oh well, I’ll just listen to bad rap and run away; take myself out. —Suits me.

It’s like, integrity matters more than curiosity, and you can’t have it without honesty….

You can’t really explain it. And people would know, if they wanted to, really.

But, you know: that’s insanity, being anything other than the part the Director gives you in the school play; it doesn’t matter if you’re Hamlet or the Ghost, you know…. Just….

I mean, religion is made for the soul, not the soul for religion. (That would be a hell of a god: I need people to mull over books they don’t understand, and do funny-looking rituals all the time…. I’ll invent people to do that for me!)

—I don’t know what the hell you just said, man, but I didn’t get it from shaving twice a day, watching TV, and being normal, fool…. (beat) Anyway, I don’t mind the Jews much, the Irish Jews, you know. But when these Weird Jews launch their buying attack into the neighborhood, you can pretty much kiss your Irish ass goodbye…. I wonder if I can make this personnel sheet look the way it’s supposed to…. I’ve got a degree for it…. Shit, I’ve gotten awards! Well, you’ll probably be on your own, tomorrow, kid. Nothing personal. (“Tell Michael I always liked him. It was only business.”)


(disappointed) But I’ve heard that before.

You rejected it.

I don’t know.

But you didn’t do it.

Of course not.


Therefore, the gift is already given, but it’s not this world.

…. P.S. It’s not that the third topic is bad. I like it, and I’m glad that I am healthy enough to be able to attend to it sometimes, honestly. But there are so few honest third topic people, mostly people just smile and say that they want to be a “marine biologist”, and aren’t quite sure if it has to do with the sea, you know—and most of the “bona fide” (if we can call them that) third topic people are so obsessed with proving that that’s not them, (ie land-centered marine biologist), that that becomes synonymous with the third topic, displays, so that it’s not even curiosity anymore, although some of the essay topics they pick are quite—curious!

But really all third topic people should stick together. When they don’t, the academy sinks under a weight of hate and gets driven out of business by jewelry stores and such. Third topic should be tertiary, until and including high school, and the third topic kids should be kept together, as comrades, not divided, and the third topic classes should be ruthlessly generalist, taught by people who did not specialize, preferably even in college, in any speciality except I guess education, you know…. Most third topic people would slice their eyeballs open if you told them it would be like that, but that’s kinda the point. (The Greco-Roman classicists are the worst. It’s not really Plutarch’s fault, but half of those guys want to have school just be for the landowner’s sons and maybe daughters, and maybe bankers’ kids, and they should be taught how to sink classicism for everything except perfidy and uselessness, and everyone else should be taught military obedience and food service, you know.)

But there just aren’t many third topic people, so if they don’t stick together, then after they destroy each other the culture will just be rudderless knick-knack collecting, right.

And it also has to made clear that being a mystic INSTEAD OF, even, a third topic woman or man is okay, because people DO need to be taught IMPORTANT things before they get into the world of service and money, even if they can learn very little intellectuality things, and choose which few of the things they go in for.

But that’s all if you didn’t want the world to kill itself—an odd idea, you know. A little off, right.

…. …. I know it can’t happen. (Before the zombies, lol.)


Quiz them about medical science, etc. Lol!

And wait until the religious people mess it up, lol.

—I hear you’re teaching them the bigger gospel.

—Bigger? I suppose it is bigger. Odd turn of phrase, though.

—Bigger? No, bugger, you misheard me.


I am God’s steward for a time, and then I must give it back with gratitude.


“Do not judge” is one rendering of the words, although I think the idea is actually do not punish; that’s closer. We might have opinions, evaluations, if we do not believe that we and our opinions are so damn important, you know.

“‘I’m Happy My Corporate Attention-Seeking Works So Well, And Also My Mom Is Dead’ is a terrible book, and that angry little girl doesn’t seem to know any shame, doesn’t have the wisdom to see a pre-sentiment of regret, you know. Ghosts, Karma, children—lots of options, you know, but she won’t see it”. That’s an opinion. “Shitty little slut, should be in Jail!”—that’s desire to punish, and it’s wrong, you know….

We should not punish, should not desire to punish, and we shouldn’t be punished, or, somehow, desire to be punished, you know…. Should not get excited by fear, by punishment, should not, should not…. I don’t know. You can’t say it—it’s unsayable.

…. …. I mean, action in a position of responsibility is one thing, if it’s really honest and legal or whatever, but not just cursing and from yourself: even the Arch-Angel Michael, when he was fighting with Satan, (not even Hitler, but the one from before all that), said—and there was that little bit of distance, you know—The Lord rebuke you. Even as the Archangel it wasn’t supposed to come from himself, because it wasn’t about him.

So I mean, I don’t bear the devil any ill-will; I just don’t want to be like him; I suppose that’s the ending of the words.


(the ending of the words lol) I suppose that the last enemy is Expectations. We all make evaluations, sometimes it’s helpful, but why do we have expectations? How do we decide what to expect? Who are we? Have we experienced the future before?


Amen amen Iesous


“Jesus’ blood is my blood.”


(This is probably the end this time, so, “I have to be careful how I say this”.) Like my (like everyone’s) favorite high school science teacher, this is going to maybe sound like the opposite of what it means. (“I am uh, theistic evolutionist”).

(Now) This is all there is.

(Later, in the next state, the next world, or when I get home from work) This is all there is.



‘This is all there is’, and that’s what I say—but very much with the understanding that, Something will come up.


“It’s all specks in time.”

(mantra for impermanence)


Ironically or whatever, just as I was tuning into that one I feel like I was given another one, ‘It all tastes of farewell’. I’m familiar with the phrase incidentally from a title, although I don’t really know much about the original context. But I can’t resist it any longer…. And I do feel called to say goodbye to certain things in this lifetime, so.

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