Ronin of the Spirit

Because reality is beautiful.

16NOV2006

Well, tonight I unlocked a door, and checked to see if three sick people were, infact, in their rooms.   I read The Rise of the Luftwaffe, which was sort of boring.   History, well written, is like a rare steak: recently alive, chewy, scorched, and bloody.   History, badly written, is more like Sunday-after-church-toast.  By that I mean the toast that you didn’t have time to eat before you went to church, so you eat it as you are making lunch hours latter.  Bland.  Dry.   Neither crunchy, nor chewy.  Just there.  Yup, that was, in fact, toast kind of toast.  TROTL was more in the toast verity.  Stats and figures with no reference point of human drama to make it worth sitting through.   I also read On the Inteligence of Dogs which was pretty decent if, honestly,  pretty darn cursory for as many tables had to be endured, but did provide some fascinating historical perspective.
  (For instance [hey, can I begin a paragraph with a parenthesis???] the Christian tradition was not particularly antidog-with-a-mind until Decartes, who believed that animal thought was simply stimulus/response. And that if animals had minds then they had the full metaphysical software packaget and thus free will and Salvation gets sort of weird.  So in the Western Anglo (Further forth in this blog to be know as “Wanglo”) tradition there is considerable disagreement on whether or not dogs have souls.  In Japan, which has a Shinto and Buddist tradition most vets say dogs DO have souls.  (They also have no compulsion about eating dogs in the east, but won’t eat them in the Enlighted West.  Odd that.))
  Oh and the reason saint Margret is always depicted as having a dog at her feet is because she was shacked up with a noblemen and his dog.  The rich dude disapeared and she returned home in disgrace, but the dog followed her.  Later the dog took her to her man’s corpse.  His death got her thinking about capital L life and capital D death.  She had a radical conversion, and lived the rest of her life in pious suffering.  (Which had to have Jesus scratching his head.  “Suffering for suffering sake?  I never said that.  Dad, can I call them home yet?”  )
  Oh, and we talked about spiritual manifestations, did three cross word puzzles, and talked about ugly people having sex.  Great night.    Lastly, and added only because if amuses my sox off, did you know that in the 1900’s the curator of the London muesum threw out the last remaining (stuffed) dodo bird.   Years latter when asked if he had any recollection of it he said… “ratty looking bird, that”
 

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November 16, 2006 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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