If I should forget thee, Parnassus.

The doings of a year: defensible?  We sort of float through, and yes, we can later summarize whatever misdeeds as purely justifiable.  In the diaspora, the dog-leg, the caboose, we have a Dennis Miller kind of hodgepodge of commentary, seeing as it were, ammonia-sniffers and so forth.

Malcolm X went to Mecca, the pilgrimage, and others, Parnassus, Sappho, Deuteronomy.

Volley.  Thunder.

The Lord coming out of the cave, Roman guards unawares, and the look on the Apostles' faces.

"This.

Changes.

Everything!"

I crossed my own Rubricon, and took my notchbacks and hindrances forth, yet without breaching the civic centrum, yet without thresholding zero, or cornholding the inflamed and enfamed and entitled.  We crossed forth into a country undiscovered, peradventure that the future was a time and a place unset, and we Sarah Conner-ed our little asses into something of a deadspin-freefall in which we just had to get our heads together, you know, to put it all, as it were, into perspective, and we couldn't just postcard the thing,

what a week was,

what a week coming,

the past passed, elapsed into the dustbin of history, and social media gears turning, and all that, the salad cat and all.

And I'm thinking, what would you do for a bucket of Honey Fried?

And, circumspect, I was, a kind of thought to oneself, a quiet moment, when another threshold held in advance, and it was all

all

-I was a thought to oneself?

The FAHCK?!?

Bartholomew, the Lord's rising changes, in fact, everything, and we live in the shadow of grace, in a place beyond conscience and reason, but not necessarily snuggled in a gunny sack, a pillowcase of mere sensation, feeling the sheets, and brushing fronds through the woodlands, we indeed live in a 

civilized society?

Beast, as it were, made civil?

Table manners and all?

Dress nice and eat your baked hamburger, Cheevers, for He is Risen.  Saunders was saying, "the secret is Prime Meat.  Can't skimp on the meat."  And the cuts were choice, and good.

A Risen for the season.

Ask the Oprah what the future holds.