Right at the end,

It sounded as if he said "Alright." Play it again if you don't believe me.

Luka might've liked talking with my red Chow, Freedom. Every evening at bedtime, she'd come to me and talk up a storm for about 5 minutes or so. I never knew if she was just giving me the day's news, or griping about politics, or telling on her sister, or maybe even suggesting tomorrow's menu. But she was a talker. She'd even knock any phone she could reach off the hook and stand and bark at it, though she might've been curious why her efforts were never rewarded. She certainly knew it was a 2-way communicator, I'm sure.

Whoooo!

How can people see that and be discouraged enough to give up? I mean, we all grow tired and down for awhile once in awhile, but give up? Never! Democrats ROCK!

Beautiful picture

Even more beautiful poem; took me half an hour to finish. But I appreciate both.

One time shortly after losing my dear Swee'Pea, in a dream I saw him in the famous painting of Christ leading the lambs, holding one in his arms. I think it's by Prock, if memory serves. Anyway, that fleeting little mini-vision helped a lot.

I have.

That's why one of the snarkiest things I can do is to grin and offer to pay someone's airfare to that conservative's garden of Eden. My generosity is likely to be sparked when a teabagger starts screeching about hating all government. It's such an outrageous offer that I can generally trust folks to understand.

It may not surprise some folks

to learn that in Asia, at least, there's no big deal about Catholic and Buddhist weddings co-officiated equally. Many people go to Mass in the morning and temple another time. Even some priests are practicing Buddhists, since the latter is actually a philosophy rather than a religion, technically. I find that lovely.

Count me in, pal

I once knew a priest who sometimes literally glowed with a special aura from 'somewhere!' at that point in the Mass. And no, there was zero chance of hidden lighting tricks. Most people in the congregation were poor as proverbial church mice, and there was hardly room in the budget to keep the doors open. A few were so poor that they actually donated by produce from their gardens. But the place was rich in the Holy Spirit indeed.

All that chest beating they do fails to impress.

Even though it's meant to intimidate others into thinking they're in the presence of their betters and had better listen worshipfully.

A pox on their houses. I'd wager half or more are Koch employees, posers at best.

Same as when somebody on DU tries to shut me up by pointing out they've (allegedly) been here longer than anyone else. That argument doesn't hold a drop of water. As when someone tells me, "We've always done (so and so) this way!" I just tell them, "Well, then... you've always been wrong, so why am I supposed to be impressed with that?"

Some consistency is certainly always in order

But not blind lockstep obedience.

As for Catholic, yes. Cradle at that. I will never leave the church even if it leaves me. I even follow St. Francis' way of sharing the Word with all God's creation, often singing my Hail Mary's and Our Father's to my own little furkids at home. If I ever feel horribly in the dumps, the cloud lifts when I start to sing the Hail Mary repeatedly in every musical variation I can create.

And I've been fortunate to love every nun I've ever known. Though I must admit that when, like many pre-teen Catholic girls, I announced my desire to become a nun, Mother Superior gasped in mock horror. "Heaven help us if you do, child!" She knew better than I did at that age that I wasn't exactly destined for the habit. By gentle questioning she gave me an inkling before I left her office, though. And of course she was right. I was already entranced with Dorothy Day and it didn't bode well for a future of obedience. That's not my calling.

If you care to enquire further, see my other replies on this post and/or visit my journal, where I tend to enter all but the most mundane conversations.

Amen to that!

And I'm straight, btw, lest anyone think I'm merely sticking up for 'my' side. But I was raised to respect people, and mostly I do. If anyone wants to pray for my soul's improvement, I confess to ... to ... extremely dispeptic reaction to all things GOP. There, I've said it. That might be my Achilles heel.

Oinkers, alright.