I Missed Him, Of Course, But Sometimes

Over The Road There Was A Church: A Modern Gray Building, Which Constantly Played A Recording Of Church Bells. Strange It Was. Why No Proper Bells? I Never Went In But I Bet It Was A Robot Church For Androids, Where The Bible Was In Binary And Their Jesus Had Laser Eyes And Metal Claws.

The One Measure Of True Love Is: You Can Insult The Other. --slavoj Zizek

I'll Not Be Changing, But America Will.

God Is In The Mountains. Impassive, Immovable, Jagged Giants, Separating The Celestial From The Terrestrial With Eternal Diagonal Certainty. As If Silently Monitoring The Beating Heart Of The Creator From The Universe's Perfect Birth. Stood In The Thin Air And The Awe, One Inhales God, Involuntarily Acknowledging That We Are But Fragments Of A Whole, A Higher Thing. The Mountains Remind Me Of My Place, As A Servant To Truth And Wonder. Yes, God Is In The Mountains. Perhaps The Pulpit Too And Even In The Piety Of An Atheist's Sigh. I Don't Know; But I Feel Him In The Mountains.

On Respect For The Queen: When I Lick A Stamp I Always Do It With My Eyes Closed.