Janel's Place
Sometimes sparks of genius just have to be typed.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Transient wake-up moment
No posts in June yet, now why is that? Could it be because posting blogs is a giant waste of time? Nah. It's just that I have to be overflowing with interesting thoughts and that doesn't happen very often any more. As a wise Amelia once said as she pretended to suck out my brain with a brainsucker:
Amelia: THIS is a brainsucker. Do you know what it's doing?
Janel: No. What.
Amelia: It's starving.
There's this giant thesis tumor taking over my head and crowding all nonrelated remnants of creativity into a smaller and smaller space that is harder and harder to find.
... Until last Sunday. I invited my Volvo-owning neighbor to come over and look at my dead Volvo and an hour later I had located those two remaining creative brain cells. This week in the flyroom I wonder if Jesus might split the eastern sky with an Independence Day level spaceship, and in my few attempts to think outside of time I wonder if the future might be in the past or vice versa, where the onlookers to the ascension actually did not see death before the kingdom of heaven returned. I need to look up that verse -- can't remember exactly what it said. But anyway, those were just choice morsels of a fascinating conversation, wherein I had to look at myself and wonder where my love of comfort has prevented me from jumping in the trenches with a friend. This, gelling with some Screwtape warnings about real malice covering imaginary benevolence has made for some fascinating mush to wade through, not to mention the very sad story of Josiah and Pharaoh Necho and how that speaks of generational curses that must be broken through obedience. Craptastic! But alas, the price of a blog is immunofluorescence staining. But hey people! Go pick some corn on Sunday. Poke yourself and see if you still have nerve endings. It's a useful exercise.
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Amelia: THIS is a brainsucker. Do you know what it's doing?
Janel: No. What.
Amelia: It's starving.
There's this giant thesis tumor taking over my head and crowding all nonrelated remnants of creativity into a smaller and smaller space that is harder and harder to find.
... Until last Sunday. I invited my Volvo-owning neighbor to come over and look at my dead Volvo and an hour later I had located those two remaining creative brain cells. This week in the flyroom I wonder if Jesus might split the eastern sky with an Independence Day level spaceship, and in my few attempts to think outside of time I wonder if the future might be in the past or vice versa, where the onlookers to the ascension actually did not see death before the kingdom of heaven returned. I need to look up that verse -- can't remember exactly what it said. But anyway, those were just choice morsels of a fascinating conversation, wherein I had to look at myself and wonder where my love of comfort has prevented me from jumping in the trenches with a friend. This, gelling with some Screwtape warnings about real malice covering imaginary benevolence has made for some fascinating mush to wade through, not to mention the very sad story of Josiah and Pharaoh Necho and how that speaks of generational curses that must be broken through obedience. Craptastic! But alas, the price of a blog is immunofluorescence staining. But hey people! Go pick some corn on Sunday. Poke yourself and see if you still have nerve endings. It's a useful exercise.
(0) comments
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