tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25624602.post5543498055572467511..comments2024-03-15T00:12:57.489-07:00Comments on Covenant Zone: Our own to open and close.truepeershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401984575637492845noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25624602.post-71447567459866409512007-08-07T18:40:00.000-07:002007-08-07T18:40:00.000-07:00Not bad. The problem with humanity, if you want to...Not bad. The problem with humanity, if you want to get right down to it, is that there are just not enough blueberry pie eating contests, the kind where your hands are tied...truepeershttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16401984575637492845noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25624602.post-79952996168249367292007-08-07T11:06:00.000-07:002007-08-07T11:06:00.000-07:00We'll get pie in the sky when we die. Till then le...We'll get pie in the sky when we die. Till then let's hope my crusty but benign self can make us something edible for the here and now.Daghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10664271893389366772noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25624602.post-22020639030081974422007-08-07T00:47:00.000-07:002007-08-07T00:47:00.000-07:00Heh, if you really want to impress your friends, p...Heh, if you really want to impress your friends, pick up some apples to slice into that pie! Nature has given us two perfect pie combos: that one, and strawberry and rhubarb. Turn this into a perfect metaphor for the global situation and I'll bake the pie!truepeershttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16401984575637492845noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25624602.post-41586412570505313252007-08-06T22:28:00.000-07:002007-08-06T22:28:00.000-07:00Ha, I grabbed the girl on this fine summer day and...Ha, I grabbed the girl on this fine summer day and we went berry picking in the sunlight. I know all that stands between us and the crazy world of jihadi killers and the Left dhimmi fascist take-over of the Western world is me but sometimes I just gotta take a break and hope you all survive my absence. <BR/><BR/>The best berries were big and deep purple bordering on black, lush and firm, tart and sweet, bursting across my tongue and squirting juice when I chomped 'em. My finger-tips are stained and my lips are reddish blue like a Punk's kool-aid dye job. I have a gallon of berries ready to put away for winter; I have enough left over to make a pie to please my friends. <BR/><BR/>I spend much of my time collecting details of Islam and fascism for the manuscripts I'm editing and polishing. Today was for berry-picking. Maybe this is a sign that I'm a fanatic, that everything I do is related solely to my narrow interest: If I don't do this, and if I'm not successful in my efforts to stop Islam and Left fascism from winning the time, then in two generations there will not be a day for a man and a woman to go picking berries on a sunny day. At best, people will sulk in a state of resentment knowing that things used to be different in some fundamental way but it won't really be clear in what way, in the way of freedom to pursue ones own life as one will. This will be just a story that won't have any resonance. This:<BR/><BR/>Many, many years ago a woman in Khazakstan said "Love is evil!" <BR/><BR/>She meant that to indulge in what we call Romantic love is evil, to choose ones own spouse is evil, that it goes against the order of the group, that it is a defiance of the will of Allah; and this in a Communist country separated from mainstream Islam for 50 years at the time. We'll have lingering ideas of our loss, but none of it will make any real sense. Grandparents will grouse, and kids will sulk. There will be no books, and no one will ever leave the mind of the group to fling oneself at random in a strange land. No discovery, no curiosity, no exploration; there will be fear and conformity and sullenness, the triumphant merely trudging along in grim satisfaction that things are ruined and everyone is miserable but the few God-intoxicated fanatics who love the bitterness.<BR/><BR/>Tomorrow I return full-blast to Islam and its evil roots and flowering hatreds. This warm evening it's a walk across the park to the wild roses and a gentle breeze before bed-time.Daghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10664271893389366772noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25624602.post-8430422435902462202007-08-06T14:28:00.000-07:002007-08-06T14:28:00.000-07:00Why aren't you working on your glossary so people ...Why aren't you working on your glossary so people can, "Look it up."<BR/><BR/>JaneAnonymousnoreply@blogger.com