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for his unfailing love!
Merry Christmas!
Work on what has been spoiled. But what about those who pretend that there isn't a problem?
And a stadium sized fuel-cell bubble-house that floats off towards New Brunswick.
And a New Brunswick sized fuel-cell bubble-house that floats off towards a distant galaxy of light.
I'm sorry for letting myself draw out my rightgously indignant 'how absolutely dare, you sir' inner trucculence absolutism.
An old proverb:
Those who say do not know. Those who know do not say.
Away in a Manger
Joyous and Thankful!
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Praise Praise Praise
the the the
Lord Lord Lord!
for because
Easter He's so awesome!
welcome to The Message Column!
🖐♥♥Love♥♥🖑 ♥♥🖑Cops🖐♥♥
Is it obvious parody or News or both?
🖐♥♥Love♥♥🖑 ♥♥🖑Cops🖐♥♥
Vote Once One Vote here is a fresh link, a new path to some older content:
Christmas is in just days!
I've looked a bunch of night and still not seen the big comet. I know where it 'should' be, but it's just too bright in the sky for it to show through the glowing haze. Years ago I saw a photograph from Sky and Telescope of the 'night sky' at the observatory on the knoll near Lake Waban (at the college). That was just a short distance from where I grew up. That localle was billed as a place with glow in the sky not so fortunate for star gazers.
It's Christmas next week. So that means: be Merry! And make it your mission.
All Fueds aside. It's like a movie in the back ground, sometimes. Mute works well to calm the seeming storm. The real storm? there is no calming that. But we seek safe ground, common ground, not false congruity of . . . well, it's Christmas, so why nominate most grudge-worthy. So let Ann and Don be friends, despite the bluster of solioquey that is allowed in a muted column. It echoes. Ann you should know that we are all centered well and not needing to have a constant score card of always winning.
She knows. They are friends. I think that the biggest supporters of Trump are often malaigned to make it seem as though that they are not aligned to take them out of the redicle of the sights of those who oppose (da plan?)
Merry Christmas comet. Merry Christmas Don and Melania. Merry Christmas Chuck. Merry Christmas Devon. Merry Christmas Neil. Merry Christmas Ohpra, Merry Christmas Paradise, and the Foot Hill and all the people who dwell along the spine of Highway 49 that windes through Gold Country, a destination location for an awesome Vacation!
I'm polyloquocious and blessed with nimble typers reach. I can crank it out, often not well edited. Merry Christmas, editor.
Dec 20, 2018 Tell us how you really feel truckulator is bonkers for the Christmas muse . . .
a running headline:
Markets rise Markets fall those who loose say 'Damn it all' Buy low and sell high but when you need to stop the buy stop the buy halt the sale if it's too high outside the rail buy it low and sell it high and if they question then tell them why Markets rise and markets fall those who loose say 'damn it all' If you gain by being steady some times you loose when you say 'forgetty' (forgot to make my transfer!) buy it high sell it low who that sells ought to know you don't have to sell you can just let it all go to hell those who loose say 'damn it all' they laugh about it when it fall they think 'i gain because they loose' but that is a loss in all real food. Food for the body food for the mind food for thought to not be unkind food for the people food for the squirils out in the Winter while the snow blizzard swirls. so good night Ann and good night Don if you must tiff don't make it long. And you can agree to sing the song when carolers demand that you sing along. The movie is long the night is cold it never really ends the narrator has told the ushers remind that the street is frozen the sidepaths glazed over the ledder hosen won't be enough when the cold wind howls and no one meets the way ward with scowls but say 'come in from the bitter cold this division and squabble is neigh when the year is old. the writer is right about when he is wrong. he doesn't expect you to sing along he makes it up as he gathers the words to a song and oftent he lyrics are seemingly wrong. the clonking of snow bells the hooving of horses made into a song past generations rejoyces seems over played now too trite and too ruddy to have the clonkering hoff falls to be the tempo oof a song . . . the poet knows it that he's not a poet to show it and push 'send' because he's not rewitten it, nor has he gotten to the end . . . and if you read it this far then wish it long and wish it upon a moving star . . . we don't need to wish when we do the right thing we attract the joy that all of the many santas bring. The writer is wrong when he write of the dischord as perminant division. It's cold there in that scene of the ice skaters below the victorian era bridge long fallen into that flood, you can still see it's runis in the modern day, a place of long good byes and disapointing endings, they said it would always be such and retreated into their trenches growing their hedges ever larger trying to make it all seem mysterious through advance and over-done topiary. That place looked like a chess garden over looking a lake as pointed out by Robert (who is) and that is all that one might say and let it out of it's cage for ever lost in those wooded regions he ran away to Tibet and was killed or died and . . . they all flew there, how far away. The real truth? that is written in the Book of Life? can you really find that on the channels? Searching towards infinity you think what purpose this? the gathering together. the place where we meet up. It's not really the place but the people. In that sense the people are the place.
Do not respond to the quasi paranoid larpers and their constant shillpost banter!
August 12, 2018
I speak but there is no one there. I know that there is no one there. I'm not really talking to myself but I know that I'm not talking to anybody else.© 2016 © 2017 © 2018
Praise Praise Praise
the the the
Lord Lord Lord
for his for his for his
unfailing unfailing unfailing
love! love! love!
well, little else now.
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