31 December 2005


The scientist stops, where all men do, at the doors of birth and death. He knows no more than you and I why a seed remembers the oak of 20 million years ago, why dust acquires the form of a woman, why we behold the earth in space and time.

He hasn't yet solved the secret of a single name upon the earth. We may pluck the nymph from the river, but we won't pluck the river from ourselves: this coiled divinity is still all murmurous and strange.

There are sacred places everywhere. The world is still man's druid grove, where he wanders hunting for the Tree of Life.

-Russ Lockridge

30 December 2005

A relaxing Friday night...

Got off work two hours early (thanks, Boss) for the 3-day weekend, took the dog for a beach walk. We came home and made frozen pizza, cracked a bottle of red wine, and settled in to a relaxing weekend. What else do we have to do? We don't have a television, for one.

Then the alarm went off. What is it an alarm to? God knows. But this being the poor section of town (in a So Cal beach town, that means that houses in this neighborhood are only $500k, not $850k like the rest of town - I AM NOT joking), it will continue for, oh, four or five hours before the cops wander over to take a look.

ANNNNNH-ANNNNNH-ANNNNH. Get used to it. Or go insane. The choice is all mine.

Another glass of wine may be in order.
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