Tragic Loss

My very favorite shirt is about ready for a dignified retirement. I don't have the heart to toss it in the trash or to tear it into rags, for it has always been a comfort to me in this hostile world. I bought it for 25 cents at a thrift store in Albuquerque 12 years ago. The color is pukish, and the pattern is circa Howdy Doody, but I have never had, nor can I find, a shirt to match its softness. It is so soft, it must have been chewed by Eskimo women. Now it is threadbare, missing buttons, frayed and possessed of large holes in the sleeves. The creator of the shirt is Yaga, which sounds like something Pre-Columbian. I don't know if they're still in business. The Lovely One says she'll look into it for me. I have other shirts, but they just don't have the baby-cheek feel that my Yaga has. The Lovely One took some pictures of me, wearing my flashback of fashion. I will miss the classic and distinctive styling, that edgy hobo look I expect in exceptional menswear. Most of all, I regret having to part with something so familiar, something frayed and broken down like me. If my companion will give me a quarter, I'll head back to that thrift store in New Mexico, looking for another Yaga.

GOPHER GOOF

While I remain free on my own recognizance, no court yet requiring me to post bond, this may be a propitious time to answer my future mail from fans of George & Georgie. Few doubt that there will be a groundswell of curiosity about the origins of my trendy, funky, ultra-gopherine pair, who make their appearance through the rusty keyhole of my daily strip, pursuing their passion for gourmet dining and lofty, pre-apocalyptic commentary. Though I hear the snicker of libertines from their building in the air and their mumble of lies from their Book of Mammon, I, the Colonel of Truth, possessor of a bright and active senility, will set the record crooked. Yea, the Venerable One breaks his silence. (Too many beans).

George and Georgie are southwestern pocket gophers, who spend their prenuptials, moving at the speed of truth, improving the soil under my ancient alligator juniper, just outside my home office window. They help themselves to the birdseed dropped from feeders by my backyard flocks. The Lovely One has photographed these friends of mine, and a few of these pictures are posted here for that literal handfull of crazy web surfers, who have begun to admire the pair.

At present, my daily comic strip is free to all carbon-based organisms, though non-tax-deductible donations are not discouraged or returned. Plans are well-underway for a fashionable line of mugs, T-shirts, sock-puppets and other soon-to-be-sought-after-on-Ebay, highly-collectible items. No one need tell me that my depiction of the humorous couple suffers from a sort of artlessness. That is simply because I can not draw, and even if I could, my chronic, restless leg disorder and frenzied brainstem would still affect the lines. I apologize to the present few and to the future masses. Allow me to be a reminder of what happens when we let just anybody pick up a pen and use our language.

Happy Birthday Micah!

Today is my son, Micah's 29th birthday. I send him my love and very best feelings and hopes. He is gifted with extraordinary talents and sensitivities. May the Lord keep him in His care and lead him to his highest potential. Here are some pictures of Micah in his younger days. I love you, son.

ODES OF SOLOMON, Part 2

The Lovely One and I have worked assiduously (I can't say tirelessly) in adding 12,000 names to our family tree over the past ten months. This has required a self-abnegation that would be hard to justify to others. It has also involved an enormous commitment of time for research and for the employment of my companion's otherworldly data-entry skills. This afternoon, we will return to the Snowflake Temple to participate in the Lord's great redemptive work for the first thousand of these individuals, who passed beyond the veil long ago and are now waiting for the completion of those ordinances which will enable their further progress toward eternal life. The Savior taught, "Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God." John 3:5.

Because this is a monumental and historic day for my ancestors, it is fitting that I begin my exegesis of the Odes of Peace by quoting in this post my very favorite one, the last of the Odes, the 42nd, which has much to say about the Savior's entry into the World of Spirits after His crucifixion to inaugurate their emancipation. I will comment upon the verses in a subsequent posting. Read this slowly, aloud, and see if the Spirit of God will confirm the truth of it to you, as it has to me.

1. I stretched out my hands and approached my Lord.
2. For the stretching of my hands is His sign.
3. My extension is the outspread tree, which was set up on the way of the Righteous One.
4. And I became of no account to those who did not take hold of me, but I shall be with those who love me.
5. All my persecutors are dead. And they sought after me who hoped in me, because I am living.
6. And I rose up and am with them; and I will speak by their mouths.
7. For they have rejected those who persecute them.
8. And I lifted up over them the yoke of my love.
9. Like the arm of the bridegroom over the bride,
10. so was my yoke over those that know me.
11. And as the bridal chamber is spread in the house of the bridegroom and bride,
12. so is my love over those that believe in me.
13. And I was not rejected, though I was reckoned to be so.
14. I did not perish, though they devised it against me.
15. Sheol saw me and was made miserable.
16. Death cast me up and many along with me.
17. I had gall and bitterness, and I went down with him to the utmost depth.
18. And the feet and the head he let go, for he was not able to endure my face.
19. And I made a congregation of living men among his dead men, and I spake with them by living lips,
20. Because my word shall not be void.
21. And those who had died ran towards me. And they cried and said, Son of God, have pity on us, and do with us according to thy kindness.
22. And bring us out from the bonds of darkness. And open to us the door by which we shall come out to thee.
23. For we see that our death has not touched thee.
24. Let us also be redeemed with thee, for thou art our Redeemer.
25. And I heard their voice and placed their faith in my heart. And my name I sealed upon their heads.
26. For they are free, and they are mine. Hallelujah.