Pedantic Osmosis In Frogs

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I'm not expert on avatars. According to what I've read and perhaps experienced they usually appear in the sensory dimension with a retinue of lesser beings I somehow associate with "disciples", but the disciples aren't exactly mortals either. An old man down in Wilmington who retired as a CPA and occupied himself playing extras in movies told me that he had actually "seen" an avatar and the mere experience of it was what instigated his retirement. No reason to work too hard with that kind of stuff showing up.

I guess I'm wondering if wot's up with avatars (and their comings and goings) is the source of people expecting Jesus to return someday.

My sister-in-law ends up with a lotta dying people and she serves their final needs. To be sure most of them are kith and kin, but she also gets "called" to others who aren't. She told me of her Aunt Turkey in her last days. She wouldn't never go to no doctor no matter what. Her death happened in an emergency room where she was taken only because she had faded into a dying swoon such that she couldn't object. The ER people were in a quandary about what to do with her, and before they decided, she had. She never did see no doctor.

Some tornados came through our area in her last days. Very rare for that to happen here. My sister-in-law was tending to her Aunt Turkey during that time. She hadn't spoken for days when all of a sudden she sat up bed displaying great joy and ecstasy, "I turned it... I turned it...", she bellowed, and then fell back into her swoon. Later, my brother flew over the area devastated by the tornados, and he took a picture of how the tornado had taken a ninety degree turn about a mile west of Aunt Turkey's house. With my question being: Do you reckon Aunt Turkey was a "living man of God"?

I was recently handed a book and a handful of wheat grass to chew on. The book is entitled the Wheat Grass Book and it's authored by a woman named Ann Wigmore. I've only read a couple of chapters so far, but I ate the wheat grass and in the same vein I also have been eating some kale from my living kale plant. I guess I've decided to go along for the ride on this diet.

Not so oddly, one of the events that caused me to try it was something I saw on television. It was a photography documentary show on Alaskan brown bears. The photographers were filming the mating rituals of some bears on the flood plain of a river just before it dumped into the Pacific Ocean. The bears were literally grazing like a cow on the grass in the flood plain of the river.

The book I'm reading makes a point of how cows eat grass and turn it into meat, and then we eat the cows. The author suggested that we might be better off to avoid using the cow as a middle man, and eat the grass directly ourselves. That makes sense to me. I gotta do something about my diet. What I'm eating now is not only killing me, but making me suffer all the way to the cemetery.

My friend Ben came by late last night desperately looking for a guitar to use as a prop in a video he's making. I told him the only guitar I have here is the one I'm in the middle of repairing. The back sounding panel has been removed. Turned out he didn't wanna play a guitar, but just act like it, and it didn't matter if the guitar had a back on it or not. He took it and told me he'd bring it back the next day.

He brought it back today along with a hand full of clamps. He thought I might find them useful in gluing the back on the guitar. Everything was ready to go, so I asked him if he was in a hurry. Turned out he wasn't, and we glued that sucker up.

It wasn't easy to do. The repairs I'd made to the front part of the guitar had swerved the sound box frame around so that the flat sounding panel didn't fit back on the frame right. We had to use all those clamps Ben brought plus the ones I already had here to push it and squeeze it into a good fit all the way around before the glue got so set we couldn't move it anymore.

We could have used even more clamps to have done a perfect job. We did the best with what we had to work with and it'll have to do. In any case I expect the repairs that happened will make the ol' Silvertone ring with joy once again. If it does, it'll be the first time since I owned it. This guitar has had major problems from the gitgo, but I managed to hang on to it for some reason that mystifies me.

What really mystifies me is how lackadaisical I've been toward finishing the repairs on it. I stopped playing guitar a right good while back, and seem to have lost the drive I had to play it while I sang. Even so, it looks like I'm gonna have a guitar to play in a couple of days. If the glue holds I'll have no excuse not to learn to play the scales on it.

Not being able to play the scales on the various instruments I've played by heart is the perennial excuse I've used in the past to forgive myself for not getting better on them. Getting better in my world means getting good enough to play with other people on occasion. I would have liked to play music with other people in informal situations, but it's never worked out. It's my fault too. People seem to like the way I perform solo, but I was never able to show them how I did what I did, and making it into something they could do left them unsatisfied.

When I read the signs and omens of having Saturn conjoined to the Sun in my natal chart, nothing could have resonated with my own view of myself than when the interpretation book suggested this configuration was symbolic of the self-made man.

Reading that wasn't hard for me to believe, but what it said that really convinced me this was description seemed true for me was where it said that self-made people always come across as a little clumsy compare to those who took lessons and used teachers to refine their art. Grandma Moses vs Rembrant.

I used to blame my father for my pedant ways. He used to drive me crazy because he was a generalist. Knowing the details of the topics I get interested in has always been important to me, because once I got them down pat I could act like they won't nothing to it, and piss pompous people off without their knowing why. When I'm in, I'm all in all the ti-me. That's because I do things for myself and I don't depend on other people to keep my nose to the grindstone.

The way I conduct my affairs is frequently viewed as arrogant. For some reason that pleases me. It's not necessarily true that I am is arrogant, but sometimes arrogance appears to be the very quality needed to carry the day. It's just an act. I can put it on and take it off as I see fit as long as I'm sober. It's astounding how people say they like me better when I'm drunk.
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