Little Timmy's story....

One day, little Timmy's mommy told him to go into the back yard and rake all the leaves up. Now, little Timmy did not want to rake all the leaves up! So instead, he went off and played in the woods. He came back inside. His mom looked out and said, "I thought I told you to rake all the leaves up!" But he said, "Well, I did and they all blew back around because of the wind. What an unfortunate thing to happen by chance, poor me!"

He thought he was a smart one. But his mommy, she was pretty smart too! So she went out and looked at the leaves carefully. Then, she looked at the edge of the yard where it was a little wet.

And there she saw a foot print or two in wet leaves, just a few but also pointing to the woods.... Little Timmy got a spanking! For his mommy could recognize what could happen by happenstance and what would not.

The Parable of the Southerner, revisited and revised,

Once upon a time there was a young man who lived in the South. His brother was an abolitionist always flaming away at people and writing pamphlets. But he, on the other hand, well he was nice. He knew this was so because he looked nice and spent his time being nice. He went to parties and made friends. He was handsome and with his dainty hand he put on some perfume, then took a sip from his snifter, then put some snuff in his mouth. He looked at a slave and thought, "Hmmm, they look like an animal. But look at me and how good I am." Then he looked through his family portraits and thought, "How nice!"

There was something niggling in the back of his mind, the type of things that his brother would write. Writing was just words, though....he tried to put them out of his mind and so another image came to his mind, "Maybe my brother is just a stinky animal too. But how nice I must be, for do I not look like it!" Then with his dainty, oh so dainty hands he pushed his long hair back and put on some more perfume. How nice! He went out to the stables and got a slave to get his nice horse ready. It was a beauty. He thought, "Look at my beautiful horse....but the slave, he is ugly."

Then he got on his nice fast horse and road quite fast. He was very vain about this too. He came up behind a poor person riding their nag. The intersection was clear, so why didn't they go, go! But no, their nag did not move. It was a slow nag. So he had to swerve his nice horsey into the ditch and off the young man fell, down into the mud. His horse had thrown a horseshoe and almost broke its leg too. So he walked it back to the stables. It would take a little while to heal his horsey.

There was a second Southerner who was friends with the first. He was even more vain than the first. He wore a big whig. He thought he was a big whig. He read some abolitionists pamphlets and thought, "How intolerant of our way of life, why do they not try to see things from our side?" Then, he read other pamphlets about the latest scientific findings about slaves. He thought, "See how open-minded I am. I read the science of things. Science proves that slaves are inferior and the Bible agrees."

Then, with his dainty, dainty hands which had some dainty gloves on them he took a sip of wine. He thought, "There now, that is settled. Look at how nice I am to care for my slaves." Then he picked up the abolitionist's pamphlets and thought, "What religious zealots, trying to control me." Then he threw them in the fireplace. He turned and walked back to his chair to read something else. He opened a letter and read that his vain friend had run his horse into a ditch. He said, "Oh no, that's not nice!"

Behind him, one of the pages of the pamphlets he had thrown in the fire blew back out. In fact, it had caught the carpets on fire. The flame licked up the back of his chair to his big whig! It was actually quite flammable! He died in the fire and the slaves which he thought he treated so nicely ran away to freedom.

A fragment of the charred page which had burned the house down blew in the wind. Across the top of it the words of the abolitionist were written: ""Veritas vos Liberabit!"

The Truth shall set you free!

An old parable, in honor of the superbowl...

Men meet on the grid of iron, iron! So they all know the rules and lines as men like to know. They know what lines to cross and which not to. They were taught the rules of the lines. This is what figures. There is no one there to ask about their figure, "How's my figure?" For that's a hard sort of figure to figure out. Although one might like to do some figuring on it.

But no, on the grid, it all figures. Will players seek to bend the rules? Will it be those weaker of them? Will they be caught if they do?

Tweet, tweet! Yes, someone has been caught. He was offsides. Look at this wretch who was not on his own side of the line. He says, "Don't be intolerant, I just wanted to see things from all sides....man." But no one listens to his excuse. For he had violated the law, a law like iron. He was off his own side for all to see.

Just which side was he playing for, anyway? The men who were at his side look at him. One whispers, "Somehow, he just looks like he wants to play for the other side." Another says, "Yeah, I thought he was a little too nicey nice with the pats on the butt all the time too!" That law breaker and blurrer! Now he must see things from the side again, the side line. So he goes off of the gridiron. For he would break the grid.

The offense tries to move down the field but the good guy's side intercepts their deeply offensive attempt. So the offense is turned on its head by a very fast good guy. He runs down the field, faking them all out. He has not broken the law of the grid of iron with his interception, not at all.

So he runs, he scores, as the cloud of witnesses all around watching goes wild!

(And so, the Eagles win....on a wing and a prayer, as the birds of prey must pray.)

What is to be done, with the One?

The bibliolaters put Him in the Bible and thump, thump, thump. He likes not such thumping.

The philosophers seek to put Him in their own brains. Tap, tap, the One is all here, here in the head. Boom! It rains brains.

The cold toads seek to put Him in Nature and call what they do science. Booom! Everyone dies in a nuclear explosion. They give everyone bigger and bigger weapons even as they undermine civilization and work to create animalization. Are they smart or not, that's not smart! Their glasses grow thicker and thicker, their vision smaller and smaller. So get out your microscope before your mind disappears. They will not see the big picture.

They look up from the microscope and all its jots and tittles of the Code as one says to the other,

"Is it a jot?"

"No...looks like a tittle to me."

"How titillating!"

"Hey, let's put it in a test tube to test this tittle's titillation!"

Then they go home and read comic books. Later...here comes Ape-man in his series of images to save the day! Ape-man, but he is missing in action! Where is this mystery man? The meek, they must find him! They seek him, he is their hero. But they cannot find him. So they write a comic book about Ape-man, their hero.

But they do not call it a comic book. Instead, they call it a textbook.

Not much to write today...

I just got back from Virginia, helping my dad put in pilings for a dock. For me, writing typically does not take all that long but I'm just too tired tonight.

One note, another windsurfer e-mailed me about a few things on here and it turns out that he has his own site. I had wondered sometimes about what I'd do with windsurfing if I lost a limb. Now I know, get some advice from a guy like that and keep on windsurfing. That's nice to know.

You have to like a paragraph about a prosthetic limb that ends with, "Oh, and I always carry a can of WD-40 in my truck."

Sheesh!

I'm on my laptop and it seems that it may be too slow to get anything done here today. I was going to update the parable of the biologists but that blogger page doesn't want to load. I'd hate to leave Melody in suspense, after all. I should ask what her hair color is.

Well, maybe tomorrow....when I'm back on the good old broadband. This makes me wonder how anyone can use dialup.

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Okay, it did work. So that has been updated. It turned into something more like a rough draft.