MY POODLE IS SMARTER THAN MY PRESIDENT

KEEP YOUR RELIGION TO YOURSELF, UNLESS YOU MEAN TO DO SOMETHING DECENT WITH IT.

 

I saw Christ yesterday. He walked into my office. He was old, worn down from all the living. His skin had that fragile, transparent look, like the slightest touch would draw blood. Everything had taken its toll, including the booze. Whiskey mainly. I don't know what they thought I could do. He talked and I listened. Stories of delight, hope, despair, betrayal, friendship, love, hate, all meshed into 67 years of life. He had died and come back maybe six or seven times. Back from prison, being homeless, countless lost jobs, three marriages, three divorces, estranged children, a bleeding ulcer, damaged liver. Back from promises unkempt and nightmares turned real. Each time saved he was thankful, but not enough to quit drinking. What could I do for him but listen, say thank you for sharing, help him to the door, give him a tap on the shoulder, and wonder how you tell Christ he's Christ. Maybe it's best you don't.

THE LONGER I LIVE, THE MORE DOUBT I HAVE.

I have always thought that being a conservative would be an awful way to lead one's life. Conservatives have always struck me as people who are not very excited about the possibilities of life. They prefer things as they were. They are hesitant to try new ideas, new paths, new ways of looking at old problems. They need everything written down in neatly displayed categories. No deviations. I have never seen any conservative initiatives that would move things forward. They all go backward. I have never felt thinking conservatively would allow me to reach my greatest potential, which at a minimum I figure needs to include casting positive doubt on anything being done in the name of right-wing ideology. Some alchemists try to change base metals into gold. I try to change control into chaos.