Janel's Place

When you go to bed early,
But you cannot sleep,
When you think America will end,
Because politicians are weak,
When love looks so stupid,
Movies are so lame,
When those who seem good,
Are just actors in a game...

Look around and laugh at yourself,
You're acting just like them!
Pulling on your serious face,
Trying to be important.
Behold the lap of purring cat,
Behold Orion's belt,
The universe is a little big,
For grad students to worry about.

Get up in the morning and do your thing,
Smile and wave at the others,
Like a bunch of little ants wearing serious pants,
Say your prayers, work hard, and enjoy the peanutbutter.



And further, by these, my son, be admonished: of making many books there is no end; and much study is a weariness of the flesh.
Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man.
For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil.

Ecclesiastes 12:12-14
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It's nice not to be sleepy, but it's at the wrong time of day again. But what better opportunity to record the interesting event of the day: this morning I saw a pigeon stop mid-flight and drop to the ground dead. Now for the event of the week: last Saturday I received the second to best letter of a lifetime saying that I have an interview for vet school. I think I made it almost an hour today without thinking about it. I guess nothing else of interest happened in my small world, because counting minis is not of interest, and if nobody knows what that means then I think that is fine. You can actually do very well in life without knowing what it means to count minis. Tomorrow is Sunday, perhaps my brain can literally explode before noon. Perhaps it will implode. Perhaps it will turn into rubber. Hard to say, interesting to speculate. If I were a penguin I would have completely different things to worry about. This is a true statement, but out of place in a paragraph written by someone trying to be normal. The truth is, I have no desire to be normal, and if that is a requirement for vet school then I guess I don't want to go anyway. It is the normal people that cause my brain to explode. When all is said and done a person should just sit down and read their Bible and be glad they don't have tapeworms. Take that, normal people!
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Today was the day of the bloody chicken. My little miracle chicken (can't remember if I blogged about that, but he was a sticky chick and he should have died) greeted me this morning with his white feathers blazing bright red from beak to shoulder with blood; I believe he was put in his place by the other roosters. Anyway, his whole face was obscured by blood clots, so to the bathtub he went. The poor little chickie boy just sat passively with warm water pouring over his head for several minutes, and the bathtub became a sight and smell that was pretty record-breaking as far as grossness goes. Anyway, after some scrubbing I found that he still had a head and eyes, and he should be fine. I had flashbacks of scrubbing the yolk off of my baby chick, now he's all grown up and getting into big boy fights. I did forget to ask God to make him a hen. I am now running a homeless rooster sanctuary, which is a step in the right direction toward a dream come true, but expansion beyond roosters will have to happen some happy day in the future. Anyhoo.

What else to blog about in 5 minutes? Okay, here's something.
Isaiah 65:17: "Behold, I will create a new heavens and a new earth. The former things will not be remembered, nor will they come to mind." Well that's cool, sort of. It's cool for information's sake. Some stuff will be nice to forget, other stuff... well I guess I won't know I'm missing it. God is pretty interesting as He is, I wish people would get a grip on that and quit pushing Him to the backs of their heads because they think it would be a big disappointment to find out what He's really like. It's all stupid anyway, because if you are looking for reality then what you think it should be really doesn't matter.

Gotta a date with spinach. Adios. Maybe I'll grow some big muscles.
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Happy New Year, and all that. Not too sleepy, and this is worth some strained thoughts. Cool people write this way, I'd like to talk to them. Is this guy still alive? Nope.

(From Wikipedia)
William Butler Yeats (13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939) was an Irish poet, dramatist, mystic and public figure, brother of the artist Jack Butler Yeats and son of John Butler Yeats. Yeats, though born to an Anglo-Saxon Protestant mother and father, was perhaps the primary driving force behind the Irish Literary Revival and was co-founder of the Abbey Theatre. Yeats also served as an Irish Senator. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1923 for what the Nobel Committee described as "his always inspired poetry, which in a highly artistic form gives expression to the spirit of a whole nation".

The Second Coming
by William Butler Yeats.

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

It's a poem where I'd actually like to know what he meant, and I'm not the poety type. But it's after midnight. Today I resolved that if I must be a regurgitator, than a regurgitator I will be, in spades. It was a really good thing to resolve, actually. And as usual, it is only important that this makes sense to me, because it is my blog.

The End
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