Erro, errare, erravi, erratus

This will not be the best-connected post in the history of blog.

I have an awful lot of tags. I felt bad about this until I realized that I had an awful lot of things I talked about. I consider eclecticism no more a sin then asceticism, and so, will carry on ballooning the wealth of tags at my disposal.

At some point I would like to re-do the style sheet for this page, and that may well be today. I like this initial style, but everyone does have it, and over-familiarity (as well you all know) breeds despite.

I understand more fully now than ever before in my life the scourge of poverty. It's not bad because some people have plenty and some live in want. That's a good objective measure for poverty, but I think JK Rowling says it best.

Probably the very best thing my earnings have given me, though, is absence of worry. I have not forgotten what it feels like to worry whether you'll have enough money to pay the bills. Not to have to think about that any more is the biggest luxury in the world.

I think one could extend that even further for true poverty. If you want to talk about the great tragedy of being poor (whose depths I have not nearly plumbed, and hope to avoid), I suspect that it is, above all, that of wasted potential. Surviving does not permit for thought beyond oneself and loved ones. Living lets you think about the plight of the world. When I worry about my job in a few weeks, and about what I shall eat and where I shall sleep (and yes, I am trying to keep Christ's words in front of me. What I wear is a matter of some indifference to me - food is rather a more important consideration), I cannot divide myself away from my immediate circle. Me, Penelope, the Barkeep, Sugarbutt, the Alchemist, the Hero and a few others I can consider and work with/for...everyone else seems to fall by the wayside. I wonder if, in Africa and Southeast Asia, in South America, if the social problems stem from that narrowness of circle, the refusal to open up to those outside, because of the need to survive.

It's not fully developed, I know, and me talking about poverty is Solomon bemoaning penury to a Nigerian slum-dweller. I will not swear, but I would that I could, if not redress the balance, than at least find a method for every person to live, truly live, rather than just survive. I think that life in Christ must be a part of that, but even Christ fed his people. When did Christ take an offering? Christ gave an offering, was an offering.

Now I have visions of being a pastor, of distributing bread, and meat, and water to all who come and ask, every Sunday, before worship. A glorious hope.

So. I have wandered a bit, as well I should from time to time. I'll be in touch.

Peace.

Cloudborn

Driving yesterday, I saw a cloud in the shape of the figure of an eighteenth century man - think the fim version of the Scarlet Pimpernel, or any French Revolution film, holding out his hand to a lady while dancing. The image was more vivid and lovely than I can describe to you.

Now, I've gone to school long enough to tell you that that's not really what was there. There was a nebula of water vapor attached to dust which was being struck by sunlight in a random pattern which happened to resemble this French fop to me. And, once more, I was made aware that this debate has gone on forever, between the phenomenal and the noumenal - in other words, that the scientific reality and the mental imagery are two different things. Of course, I favor the latter, being a poet and theologian. I want to say, and to believe, that I saw a man there because God wanted me to.

I think what struck me most particularly in this case was that from that angle, at that time, that shape existed. Just as, at this moment, from this angle, whatever the arrangement of atoms and particles on the screen, I am reading words. The underlying chaos of the universe doesn't, in my mind, preclude the reality of the either the phenomenal or the noumenal.

I regret that this point doesn't have as much point as some prior ones. It was tighter when I first saw it. I suppose I'll close with this: Next time you see a whale in the sky, or a star destroyer, or just a plain ol' Cowboy, let it make you feel. That, at least in part, is what life is about.

Oh, and a shout out to Penelope. Welcome to the blog. =)

mood: ring
album: WoW soundtrack