Hello, My
Children. It is clearly time for another sermon from the Grand High
Authority, the
Illustrious and
Munificent Sheperd of noders, the one and only, often duplicated but never
medicated Space Pope of the puny hu-mons, me.
I have here a note from
Cowboy Jesus. In his folksy cowboy scrawl, he notes that "The Injuns is restless" and that "we have to make the
watering hole a'for sundown." Heady words my children.
What
watering holes do you want to make it to a'for you see
sunset? Cowboy Jesus would be all for
scarletblood's list. It would appeal to his rugged, farmhand
sensibilities. It has the air of a
concrete thing that could be marked with
checks, or have things crossed off in some sort of pen, or a line drawn in the
sand. He has a similar daily "To Do list". It goes something like this...
"What I done and didn't did to-day"
1) Didn't kill me a
man
2) Milked the cows
3) Lorded o'er the spiritual well-being of the
totality of existence
4) bought a bag of nails
He keeps putting off that last one... Anyways!
Kudos to
scarletblood, an example to us all.
Sadly, now comes the time, my children, when we have to talk about the
little calf that got tangled in the barbwire.
cabin fever, OH! how we
lament for you. Cowboy Jesus, he couldn't "
cotton" to your list. He said "Thats the list of a
sidewinder!" Let us think on these words, shall we?
What would
Michel Foucault think of an anti-deterministic goal-less life? Would he say it exemplifies the
madness that has been cast from
society, losing its power to signify the limits of
social order? Would he eat a brie sandwich at 3:00 am or did it give him
heartburn? We may never know, as Foucault is
dead, like
Nietzsche before him, and yet, at the end of their lists, we know them.
Did they adhere to an
amoeba's list?
Finish life. Die?
I, and
Cowboy Jesus, would say no.
Think on this, my restless
Injuns.