If we cannot help the weakest among us, then what kind of nation are we, really?
Feed the hungry. Children and Elderly.
Minister to the sick and dying.
Who needs a thirty million dollar house, really?
All the base and denigrating political talk at all levels disgusts me:
Close the hospitals, but make damn sure that highway gets paved for the second time in five years.
Take the money from the fight against Ebola and just use part of that to try and stop Zika. Microencephaly is a sure way to decrease the human population, but increase human suffering. And Ebola…heck that’s a non issue now. Except for where it isn’t.
Who removed the definition of logic from the dictionary, and when was it done? Does anyone even own a physical copy of Webster’s anymore, and if so is there an inch thick layer of dust on it…same as with most Bible s?
It’s not beyond the scope of possibilities, with our technology, for the super, ultra rich elite to have it in the back of their controlling and devious minds that their billions, and the power it can buy might one day in the not too distant future also buy them eternal human life. Remember “Freejack”? They do. Cheney’s favorite movie!
But, I rave on and rage on, and nobody cares a bit for the lunacy of one old man.
It’s good for me that I write on “virtual” paper now, cause I know what would happen if I wrote on real paper.
We are the gatherers of our experiences, no matter if we initiate them or if they are initiated by others, and through us, I believe God is able to experience all of that sum of those experiences. We believe in a creator who is all knowing, all seeing and all powerful…but that is not to say that our creator has experienced all things. If you are the author of a fictional novel, it is much different than if you are the author of a biography.
It’s been a few days since I have walked around town, but I hope to go in the morning.
I need the fresh air to fill my lungs and reinvigorate my blood. I need the sunrise to refresh my spirit as it’s first rays peep over the crest of the ridge.
I need the solitude in order for my brain to reset itself.
More and more time is a blur, similar to standing next to the road very closely while a huge long bus passes by so very close….you can feel the whoosh of the air and brace yourself against the vacuum it creates as it tries to pull you into the road, under it’s wheels.
You feel like you are at fate’s carnival, watching the grim reaper throw darts at the balloons on the big backboard of life, trying to hit somebody’s brightly coloured existence and end it. He broke one of my high school classmates earlier this week. It got my brain to spinning thinking about that loss.
He’s relentless and random, that Father time. Doesn’t care a whit for any of us, rich or poor, low or high.
So I hope to go walk tomorrow and feel the wind on my face, and smell the grass people were out cutting today. I hope to see a hawk or a woodpecker, and smell bacon cooking. I know I’ll hear the local dogs barking but I won’t care. I’ll be busy living life and loving it.