Figuring Figures….

Just checking in. I’ll let myself out… soon enough. It has been an interesting week. I hope to be coming by soon to spend a while. I read this post and it was all you. The you, I have come to know and love. It’s all good and familiar and real and you don’t need to explain. I want to be the monster of the midway, also. but I am just the strikingly grey elephant standing at the side of the trunk by the door under the pile of unfolded laundry. When window’s light late Spring evening submits to the grasp. After thinking second sight.

I have had conversations over the last week, that were very normal and seemed to move the ball forward a bit. Don’t know yet, about the conjugation of terms, but I am quite happily, ordinary, and that is just fine.

The message here is that I appreciate every instance of contact, and the subtle light of love in the untertow of time has wedged the great door to the opening of this life wide open…knowing no fault in the mechanism…it remains a suspension of the way from before the time, when I came this way. More repeated chances to remain. An afterword, I am all about the fact that I give myself over to explain the drill of the divide of the essence of holy supulchered delights.

I have a high reverence for this test of tides. Wondered why I came? Everytime is equally not a second mistake. It is always the first time and so bright. Give me over to the life of the signs. I am going to bed and I’ll explain soon, why I came to be this way. My wife says it is lack of sleep and she has never read a thing of me, but Our conversations _ must be the way_ she explains. Peace out …Goodnight TR

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by trust the rust (PM , CC ) on Friday March 21, 2008 @ 3:14 AM   (del)

Well, I know that “look” too, John. My father used to give it to me….come to think of it, my husband does too. What does that mean? Do you know?

Yes, we tend to talk about what our days are about don’t we sweetums? POH’s days are full of mundaneness….Squabbler’s days are full of myphets, Mrs. Abigail Uppington and Elizabeth, right? So, that is what we talk about.

We’re talking about buying a business, John. Did I tell you that? Put the kids to work, you know. Leave them something so they won’t be destitute should something happen to the old folks (dat would be me and Mr. Hope). You think I have enough years left in me to teach them how to run it so that they can do it on their own? Well, worth a shot. We’ll talk.

Your post today was funny, John. Kinna sardonic, you know? I like it when you are like that. Maybe because that is the way I would be if I had your brainy wit….or is that witty brain? Well, one of those…or both.

On my way into city. Not little city at top of lake….big city an hour away. Okay, I know, my big city is ‘rural’ compared to REAL city….NYC city….you know what I mean, you silly.

Say hi to Elizabeth for me. Tell her I said she was blessed to see you everyday. I think she already knows that but tell her anyway, ‘kay? Love ya.  

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by prisonerofhope (PM , CC ) on Friday March 21, 2008 @ 7:09 AM

Hi POH. Oh I’ve been called worse than a brainy little wit in my day. What sort of business are you so rashly considering without first consulting me? Goodness…

The “look?” Ah yes, my Dad’s – which he still occasionally flashes at me – is absolutely withering. It seems to say, “I know you are an idiot, but precisely what kind of idiot is an open question,” and, knowing Dad as you do that may come as a surprise. Certainly he would never think such a thing. But there it is: the “look.” We may intend to make a facial expression which will impart a certain message – usually in imitation of someone we have known – but how it looks to the observer can be quite a different thing than we intend.

I think my “look” looks like the “look” that handsome fellow in the picture is flashing at us, but…

Oh well. It is I who am blessed to have Elizabeth for company, and doubly blessed to have your attendance today here at the White Lodge. Happy Easter to you & family, POH.

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by John, the Squabbler (PM , CC ) on Saturday March 22, 2008 @ 6:52 AM

Hi TR. It’s good to see you. Between text and subtext is the gist of our meanings to each other. When I converse with people I hope to do it in a way that tells them I respect them, as yesterday I was explaining to someone that the so-called “Spirit if the 60’s,” which she had introduced into the conversation as though it were an ideal to be achieved is, to my mind, epitomized in the person of Charles Manson. Even with such profound differenes in outlook and experience, opinion, we can converse together in a courteous manner. I was going to do a post on the subject, but it was Good Friday and I realized that it was inappropriate for me to do a post at all, much less one so provocative. I try to write as I speak, but if one were to hear me speaking he would receive a different impression than my writing gives, and that is just the way it is.

Don’t ever cease from mental fight, my friend. Eventually, when we dissolve into the Love that made us, all our efforts will be weighed and reckoned. Let us speak with humility and courage so that the reckoning will be favorable.

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by John, the Squabbler (PM , CC ) on Saturday March 22, 2008 @ 7:19 AM

Speaking from a postion of humility and courage.
Huzzah! Huzzah! the Lord demands I appeal at the heart.
From within_the side of the sword lain on the page.
On this soon to be Easter morn. As it is__ as well and framed.
I came undone by my hope to accomplish the afterfact of the loving eye.

Not lost, and, as in_ the found supulchre of the life within.
He lives… I am mighty with the right of first frames.
I believe above all and in my deepest core___
I am reaching for the furthest shore.

Winding this path bleeds our hearts at our request.
Between the path and thee is the bridge of lessons turned.
I have and always will remain a dominant factor in my own cognition.
How do I unwind this time ahead?
I am looking for what I have learned.

I could say this is not what I began to search for_ in my request.
I was getting back to you on the e-mail secured dimensions of worth.
I was looking for the window of this night.
Knowing that tomorrow is the Easter solitude and celebration_
… and the death and rebirth and celebration of the Lord_
.. and the life of after the ascension__to be in Heaven.

How do we hide? From before_ my life came back to me.
When this life__is done, I will be complete, and I will ascribe totally to the path by which I came. No other way provides the victory of trying to understand why this all comes back to me_
…at the end_ of this time ahead.

So sublime. I know in space and time, I am this small fractious boy of many mistakes, but I have a sweet victory in my life, because the Lord, who came for me, came over me and gave my spirit the light of my worth.

I describe the beauty of second sight. The new opportunity of__
Acceptance and rebirth. Such courage_ has this love. In this place from which I write. The even and odd coalesce and become the right way to be and the music of the spheres is blowing through_ Here.
I am happy here, because it is on this page_ at this moment…
I am doing what I was meant to do. I am singing my life. In me!

Wish and wonder why we can’t all have it_Here. The conversion for the worth of all that we have here. So I took off and became some other value of why I am(became)_ to be here…to be this way _this night.
Easter in Jerusalem. Easter in Rome. Easter in London. Easter in
America. Easter in Japan. Eastern Orthodox. Explain…
God only knows. Give your love away. Life , the game, the play.

Around the world we have the Easter light at dawn. The night before the day. When does ‘the crest of the curve of the love of the passion of Christ’ become?
In the space time continuum_everything is now. Good or bad…all attitude and application explains the now of present everything.
Now is now is Now.

I am a small voice of recognition. Not disguised_ for the path of my small light. Humbly,I pray. My life is an action in time. It is not based on the intellect and sacrifice. By all practical means, my day
is my report and my way. To wit… I am a little less ordinary…by my victory___ to have come
to this moment. Now_ is my way. Write it out, easily.

In my deluge, to get ahead of the curve, I am a weighted sight of circumstance…I am totally at the mercy of this mystery called life.
It is not perfect or practical, but I have my reasons for ascribing to the wonder of love and the wisdom of trusting my best intentions, because they will and are___ eventually, to carry me to the heart of my path.

‘…Place and country and heart of the world’. This was a part of something, that pushed ahead as I went on. I am including it, because it will be the ‘thesis’ of my ending this path of description.
I feel this life is letters written to the reader, who, like me, is stranded on the way_In progress. Progressing! All the structures and strictures that stand in the way of love are man-made. God’s arms are opened wide. God’s love is All. Country wide. No national boundary.
Hot or cold planet_Earth is the home of mankind. Mastery awaits_In the kind of life_ we are worth. No end. Heaven awaits.

I am a man_ To tell. I describe_ a feeling that comes over me. I believe in heaven and hell and evil and good, and I know the difference_ about where and why and when, but because I have been weak and will be again, I will not always have this kind of sight, but I am becoming myself, and this is how I will speak, if I were to say_ I am living well.

It is all a song to me_ of a life, that has so much victory and quells all misery, and you saw me foretell a value of time that came__
and gave all__ the sweet victory of life.


Hey John! It is I. TR…I am a bit over the top tonight.
I wanted to celebrate the sweet victory and bravery of living this life. In the real terms of trying everything to make it work…
I am looking still_ for what makes it all work for me.
This is not about me and I don’t presume to know what works for any other, but there are certain given terms and provisions.
Writing as if none of that applies to me…IS not my choice. It is what comes out of me.

If I go back to what it was like before, when I didn’t ‘right’ anything and I wasn’t alive_ anymore. I don’t know how I could survive, if I couldn’t go on this way…looking for the words my Lord puts into my brain. That I would learn to speak as the heart of me. Holding in every frame the very love of me. I would serve the Lord best if I became in every way perfected, but I am not the expectation of the perfect vessel. Only that perfection_lies in Jesus Christ.

I am the real world version of the struggling man learning to heal himself. I am just sombody trying to go home.

Blessed victory. The trying is my home. HAppy EAster_TR

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by trust the rust (PM , CC ) on Sunday March 23, 2008 @ 3:44 AM   (del)

Happy Easter to you & family, TR.

I’m not sold on this whole “planet” explanation of things. I remember as though it were yesterday when the world was a flat land with a dome of sky over it, the stars points of light oversprinkled. I don’t say we were any more primitive in those days than we are now, compared to the days which are to come. We will one day laugh at our current explanation of things. Being human means, among other things, having a good sense of humor. But one thing that hasn’t changed in our understanding between yesterday and today – and, the thing that will not change tomorrow – is that this place we seem to inhabit is the World, and it is the nature of the World that it continually changes; stones turn into sand, mountains become leveled into plains and new mountains surge up through the earth, our bodies decay, we die. There is more water, less water, then more again. All of this is ordered in ways we either begin to understand or don’t even begin to understand by our Creator, God. And, the other thing that was always so, and will forever remain so, is that we are more like Him Who is not of the the World than we are like the things of the World. In a certain sense we don’t seem to belong here. How do we fit in? We don’t – not really. We seem perpetually ill-suited to a physical life. We have nothing in common with the things that fabricate our bodies, the molecules and atoms, protons, quarks, what have you. We are more like God than we are like these things. We don’t really fit in, do we? What strangely ill-adapted creatures we are! Our lives here in the World are such a struggle, such a trial, and we are full of suffering – it runs through this life like water, sometimes more, sometimes less. Nothing else suffers. Animals do not really suffer, having no consciousness. It is a case of us being here all alone amongst things that are not like us. All alone except that God is with us. I mean, what on Earth? – as they say. We have capitalized a word that means dirt and many of us have made a decision to believe that we are dirt ourselves, and such people worship dirt, aspire to dirt, believe in their hearts that dirt is spread over all of Creation. Indeed, they would have us believe there is no Creation, merely dirt somehow making more dirt, and really, I ask you… The whole “planet” explanation makes me feel so… dirty. I need a shower.

No, the World is an interesting place, but it’s temporary. We’re only here for the blink of an eye. Future generations will begin to understand the Dimensions as the Squabbler does, and no doubt travel in between “planets” many many “light years” apart in the blink of an eye will be as taken for granted as we take this primitive communication medium for granted today. Those people – our decendants – will laugh at us just as we laugh at our ancestors, and – because we never seem able to learn humility – they will believe that all knowledge ends with them, and they have the sum total of it, just as we preposterously seem to believe today, and just as our ancestors believed yesterday.

So, anyhooo – I’m just saying I don’t believe in planets. Whoo-hoo! Again – have a Happy Easter!

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by John, the Squabbler (PM , CC ) on Sunday March 23, 2008 @ 12:04 PM


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