120723 0447 the sum of

“The sum of all sums is eternity” –Lucretius

I think my thesis that Jesus is resurrect in many differing times ways places and forms correct. And as the son of God, not God but part of the whole sum of history manifest in kindness e.g. Do No Harm

I am disinterested in intellectual pursuits, masturbatory by nature, since they are essentially pleas for acknowledgment the impoverished self thought unlovable and extreme in their judgment of others worth or unworthy to live.

From personal experience I sense the truth and presence in all relationships regardless of gender identity: male/male female/female or an elderly person with a pet. Love of any kind is long while sexual activity is at best fleeting and/or a brief glimpse the God Head. Such perception is idolatrous of definitions established long ago when there were fewer of us; 'Be fruitful and multiply'; we've multiplied too much and often becoming a cancer or virus instead of the God given value of life we've trashed it.

This lovely apple green nest, our home planet, is soon to become a ruin pocked by asteroids; otherwise potential there are so many ways, overt and covert, empowered or invoked, to dominate one ideal over another; merely competition a rush to the cemetery.

Those who have stolen life so glibly smirking will pay not by me since being human I can only see so far this eternity we live in – as a writer I could easily eat Bill Gates heart still beating between my teeth and he swooning hoping to die – merely for his destruction of WordStar. Only the beginning since he is emblematic if not iconic the theft of intellectual property what was my profession as a photographer. He is a pissant decadent compared to the congress of baboons who agreed to legalize greed as the rule of our fair nation once deluded into believing faithlessly “In God We Trust” what hog wash. For those few like myself think ice cream. My education derived via the World Wide Web; there are still extant a few, not yet tampered with or constrained to mute or amputate or outright censored for the benefit of – dare I say Bat Man?

The hour is evaporating for me this time beloved joy of writing anything even doggerel. Or of a few who will, if they read this, remember my praise: “Had you written the entire telephone directory the burrows of Manhattan I'd read it!” I have a promised encounter with my beloved M at water aerobics and then lunch. Though she is far kinder than I, she will cut you off at the knees if you waste her time, why do you think I refer to myself as Lurch? She will for now or forever remain nameless by her request but in fondness I often call her “my emerald eyed Sphinx” who though seldom speaking evaporating me with her proclamations teaching me the true nature of love & forgiveness versus hate & Vengeance, Inc. She being far and away well versed in both the Old & New Testaments more so than i.

"We are each of us angels with only one wing, and we can only fly by embracing one another." --Lucretius

Be well & do no harm

Faith is experience

Belief is allowing someone else to tell you what to think

© 2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved

120722 2238 apprehension

Apprehension a very tense word pointed at my eyes the recognition or conviction that I will for what remains of my life be celibate

in recognition I sense I've shattered my sword placed the remains in a baptismal font and smashed my face forcefully into the shards

though I cringe at the thought never again to enter a woman's body it makes sense of all that I've discovered of myself since in reality the joy of this solitude is more than any other before or anticipated

I laugh at my for prior superlatives first reading of a book, orgasm, kiss and so on None of which compare to this moment the now being in eternity without dying to do so: Joy endless definitive and integrated what more could Heaven offer? Yet, face to face I long to know the why of the 6 & 60 million deaths? And whether the end of mercy and forgiveness the highest end of love absolute

Yet I will, by grace and the creek don't rise, be with my beloved M tomorrow who incredulously acknowledges me as few other women before; merely hinted at. Shunned as fire showering upon my self loathing and perpetual ideation of suicide

Long held: Love begins with acceptance of self wholly transparent the dark & light the breadth, width, depth and height; requites for the virgin birth of a self mindful of precious time. Immeasurable the pain of being by a grain of sand defended against the soul's suffering worth the birthing; long and arduous. A pearl pulsing pearlescent. A new star & solar system another universe beyond the beyond – extruded born of a black hole event horizon. Hyperbole? No. Simply loving myself unacceptable to others but only to God.

I a warrior trained by Ignatius not ordained Jesuit wearing the frock but by his 18^th Annotation. Flung a boomerang lofted toward the infinite starry starry night a flight never returned self defined self derived self sacrificed self motivated and answered by love notes from God: Quotes, passages, phrases, sighs and grimaces; novels of one or two words: Love, Jesus wept.

To close: Of fours mentioned here and there represent feeling, thinking, intuition, sensing what was perfectly balanced in the ideal man of Jesus add to which he being so balanced was neither woman or man but both; asexual – Read please C. G. Jung on animus/anima.

For me the number four was despicable reminding me that I was held back in the fourth grade separating me from the few friends and socialization I had. Yet upon discovery myself a four on the scale of 9 types, The Enneagram, Sufi oral tradition character definitions brought to American by Jesuits in the 1950s; I discovered it to be accurate regarding significant elemental aspects of my Self. Chief among them was a potential to, implied or inferred, help others by knowing myself.

It is not for myself that I write, though I know not how -- but why. It for healing others equally damaged by trauma, rape, slavery, abuse, abandoned, ignored and especially for those returned from war victims of Post Traumatic Shock Disorder (PTSD)

120723 03:22

Pilot asked, “are you King of the Jews?” Jesus in reply said, “I am what you say I am.”

He was

. . . in a dream I was told the truth and as a journalist willing to die finding truth at the expense of my life . . . I don't work for Mr. Murdock . . . as ever I am grateful and loyal to The Grey Lady THE NEW YORK TIMES . . . and all journalist who died before their time Amen