I been a-thinkin. Your blog has -and is- helping me to clarify my thoughts (although in a way that feminists, faggots, lesbians and other deviants find dismaying). So I owe you something. Howse-about you hops aboard the D train -from your lesbian stronghold in Park Slope, Brooklyn- someday and ride it to the the last stop in the Bronx (205th St.,right around the corner from where my law office used to be -before the NYS Appelate Division threw my out of practice because I set out to prove that the legal profession was crazy for letting women become lawyers) and I buy you a cup of coffee at the Chariot Restaurant on 204th St ? For I can ride my bike down; it always helps to be "permenantly and totally disabled" -as verified by the U.S. Social Security Admini- stration- as well as a LT. Col. in the U.S. Army, Defense Intelligence Agency [in charge of my own sector having to do with Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) and PSI/PK ] in order to do what you want to do, when you want to do it. Let me know if you're interested -and what your schedule is like. Send it to tbitom58@yahoo.com.
I just made a reference to Diane Keaton on the “heaven” thread and then I re-read Althouse’s intro to her photos: “There is this . . . in the world . . . so . . .”
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10 comments:
Beautiful.
Wow! That’s absolutely triumphant and wondrous.
You know, we watched television as we ate our dinner tonight.
Now . . . I feel kind of ashamed about it all.
Really.
In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat.
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp.
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears
And watered heaven with their tears:
Did he smile His work to see?
Did he who made the lamb make thee?
Tiger Tiger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
(William Blake)
Fantastic.
The Sunset stopped on Cottages
Where Sunset hence must be
For treason not of His, but Life's,
Gone Westerly, Today—
The Sunset stopped on Cottages
Where Morning just begun—
What difference, after all, Thou mak'st
Thou supercilious Sun?
Wow.
I saw that from the train, crossing the Meadowlands. No camera and a scratched window.
Thanks for recording it, Ann.
Say Annie,
I been a-thinkin. Your blog has -and is- helping me to clarify my thoughts (although in a way that feminists, faggots, lesbians and other deviants find dismaying). So I owe you something.
Howse-about you hops aboard the D train -from your lesbian stronghold in Park Slope, Brooklyn- someday and ride it to the the last stop in the Bronx (205th St.,right around the corner from where my law office used to be -before the NYS Appelate Division threw my out of practice because I set out to prove that the legal profession was crazy for letting women become lawyers) and I buy you a cup of coffee at the Chariot Restaurant on 204th St ?
For I can ride my bike down; it always helps to be "permenantly and totally disabled" -as verified by the U.S. Social Security Admini- stration- as well as a LT. Col. in the U.S. Army, Defense Intelligence Agency [in charge of my own sector having to do with Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) and PSI/PK ] in order to do what you want to do, when you want to do it.
Let me know if you're interested -and what your schedule is like.
Send it to tbitom58@yahoo.com.
Tom
Very pretty.
Great photo. Thanks for sharing.
Fabulous photography, as always.
I'm glad I visited. Now, off to bed. More tomorrow?
It’s funny how the brain works.
I just made a reference to Diane Keaton on the “heaven” thread and then I re-read Althouse’s intro to her photos: “There is this . . . in the world . . . so . . .”
So, what occurs to me?
“You’re God’s answer to Job.”
Pizza, pizza!!!
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