I've said it before, and I'll say it again: this world, seems to me, is looking for any reason at all to tear itself apart. 3k here, 100k there.
I could be more mindful. These people just sneak up on you, and after I referred to the four now criminally-charged Minneapolis cops as "Motherless Children".
Shep said Katrina was "the Freezing Point of Humanity". I was watching that day back in 2005.
Anyway, my sister Peggy was washing my feet, with me getting kind of weird nerve-ending thing from what they say are "pressure points" in my feet. I was thinking of Isaiah, but also about to rag Peggy about the lady anointing Jesus's feet with oil, putting that in her hair then rubbing her oily hair on his dusty feet.
The joy of being the youngest child in the house.
Peggy was more priggish about her hair than the lady in the Bible. I had got Peggy one time, telling her, "you're no Ruth, my little corn shuck". It's a love-hate thing. I mean really. We've seen each other at our most vulnerable, at our worst, like when we pick our noses and stuff. Those days when I don't wash my butt, instead hanging around the house trying to take my turn with remote control.
Flipper probably died of old age, having never been ground-up with some Tuna.
Peggy may have did something untoward and secret, with her selfie stick. Because it smells like Easter Island.
If its going to be "a brave new world", then at some point the people have to be "bold", "brave", and "new". But not to the point of falling in a deep existential funk because you had sex with your homely sister.
But about Isaiah. A cycle of curses and blessings as the people vacillated between true religious devotion and more worldly concerns.
"We were that close to the brink. One man turned it around, Sarah. Your son. Your unborn son."
My son, Martin. Who thinks, incidentally, that he might be a vampire.
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