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I'm still stuck in Twain's deliberate description of an angel's attributes. Specifically that this angel (The Mysterious Stranger itself) through Mark Twains own composition of the story's content states that angels aren't condemned to polarized reactions by the human's Moral Sense. I'm not sure the angels dialog said this exactly, but I got the impression it stated docetic creatures like itself did not possess and wasn't possessed by a conscience because immortal.
The idea I got from the story was that angels are immortal and don't taste death, and that's why they don't understand why humans fear death. Maybe I'm reading that part wrong. I got more and more excited as the story went along because it appeared to follow pretty much the sa-me format as my remembering vision.
By the time i got through reading all eleven chapters of The Mysterious Stranger I was fairly convinced that this story was Clemens' metaphorical account of his own remembering vision. Reading it revealed what I consider to be a common format to this particular variety of visions. I'll probably be on the lookout for other examples in other writer's stories.
Twain's account and my account could either be used as the source code for the script of the blockbuster movie 2001 Space Odyssey. You might make a good argument that I unconsciously imitated a sequence of scenes I mimicked from that movie, but can you just as easily claim that the movie wasn't based on Twain's work copy-righted sixty years earlier?
Either way, experiencing this type of vision leads to an alternate source of information to data mine using curiosity explore the cornucopia I became aware of in vision.
There seems to be some residual effects of me getting angry over my water bill. I have mentioned that I was wrong and the Public Works department was right. They have a web site with their policy spelled out, and I didn't know it existed.
I could have saved myself a lot of stress and possible embarrassment if I'd known the web site was there and I'd checked it out before I opened my grouchy mouth. Fortunately I knew I was over the top in my efforts to get treated fair, and asked my youngest brother to negotiate for me due to his lack of emotional investment in the outcome. He did a good job and resolved the matter. I still have some calming down to do to get over being foolish.
If I check it out with some objectivity I can see that I'm acting out in a defensive way, and it probably has to do with the aging process. I appear to be attacking other people's defenses to see if they are more prepared for death than me. There is a Gospel of Thomas saying about preparing oneself by practicing thrusting one's sword into the walls of ones house in order to train to kill the strong man. The paragraph below is an example of how I do it. Your milage may vary.
"Why aren't you able to write in the vernacular of an established group of variegated curiosity seekers about their non-academic concerns? I do. How can such an uppity Pharisee/priest/confessor such as yo'self graciously take his minion's confessions if they think their spiritual mentor don't have the ears to hear their plebeian concerns, but gladly accepts the widow's mite to gild the lilies with monkey shit coffee?"
This paragraph is a projection of my own idea of myself, but only partly so. It's a combination of what i perceive of myself in a specific person that I've felt was strong enough for me to use as a mirror, but I may have gone too far and caused a reaction I didn't really intend. It might be prudent for me to instigate some behind the scenes damage control.
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I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
