As Likely as Birds to Fly Out of This Thing Tuesday, September 09, 2003

A bright golden haze on the jog track...a bright golden haze on the jog track. A windy, long-sleeved day. Lots of wonderful Walker on the ride in this morning, far too much to report. Do me a favor: Just read "Love in the Ruins." Then we'll talk.

OK, just one graf.

Here's the oddity. Max, the unbeliever, a lapsed Jew, believes in the orderliness of creation, acts on it with energy and charity. I believer, having swallowed the whole Thing, God Jews Christ Church, find the world a madhouse and a madhouse home. Max the atheist sees things like Saint Thomas Aquinas, ranged, orderly, connected up.

I am reminded of this because I had a nice chat this morning with the only other guy crazy enough to get in at the crack of dawn--a fan of the most aggressive, outre punk rock known to man, but the sweetest, most personable guy you'd ever want to meet. I, on the other hand, am generally unpleasant but listen to sentimental music. I'm not sure if this is a contradiction, or the answer to its own question.

What else is going on? I tarted up some of the stuff I'd already written for the Secret Thing and noticed with alarm that my partner is rapidly assembling boots, spikes and pitons for the ascent of Secret Thing #2. I've got about 119,000 words to go on Secret Thing #1, so I'd better get cracking.

In other words...more later.

@ 9:30:00 AM,

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