Something I'm beginning to think that I may not be completely off the beam about with regard to... something Goethe may or may not have said:
"God is in the [re-tells*]."
To me, today, at the beginning of the week, profundities are small, sometimes overlooked, or taken for granted, or dismissed as mundane, by virtue of their supposed insignificance. Me? I'd like to strive, but never reach, obviously, the perfection of Thorton's "poets" and "saints" from Our Town, population: It could always be worse! Because, Jesus, it was; it was so much worse, which makes today, this moment, that much more profound and precious.
*(Oh. Hey, mom, hey dad. Remember when we were watching that episode of The Simpsons and dad laughed so hard at the part where oil lobbyists wanted to drill on Mount Rushmore in Teddy Roosevelt's head? I never get tired of telling that story.)
5 comments:
That, right there, is a gift.
Coming up on the big day. We're all so proud of you, so blessed that you're here and you're still you.
Grace and peace.
Garrison has me wanting to have Norwegian blood with roots in Minnesota. Damn him to hell.
I tried to get Moonpie in the picture, but she kept running out of the frame, barking, chasing what she claims was a giant wombat. Or a butterfly. Either way, I've had it with her this time again. And this time she's in for it. The store was out of beef ribs, so she'll have to settle for pork necks and eating whatever she wants whenever she wants. And I mean it!
By the way, Iso may have been right re: water heater. I've had it with her, too.
Thanks for your strength and your faith. I'm just trying to get to a place where I can finally be good enough for your sister. [insert a-chortlin'! here]
Beautiful. All of you. Rock on brother.
Thank You.
I meant to tell you, they were probably being mean about Obama and everyone who had hope in him because it was easier than confronting the raw devastation of that day. It's a fact of human nature that making fun of other people brings up that healthy sense of invincible superiority we all need when we're being cut in two. Petty sadism is a coping mechanism. I wish to God for example, that someone would fucking slice the head off Sansa Stark.
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