<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office” /> Clee Fanger, galactic reporter, intrepid
Clee Fanger was the most renowned intergalactic reporter in the InterInfinitys. A rabid and unabashable antitheist, she reported with a pietydar of unrhomboided keenness. Her perspicacity was sweatless, elegant, earnest, and ineluctable. She had a tantalizing gossip column with frequent breaking tids on string theory and dark matter, the 90% of stuff that has got to be there but about which they know the Big Nada.
Clee Fanger grokked down realityade and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “On Vuravura,” she grinned with wild obsidian surmise, “they limit how much realityade you are allowed to grok.
Jeegoo grokkers are flayed, dismayed, betrayed. Because people have amnesia between the dream of the day and the dream of the night, the gate of pearl and the gate of onyx, they are heavy with unnecessary secrets.
“Puisque les gens ont l'amnésie entre le rêve du jour et le rêve de la nuit, la porte de l'onyx et la porte de la perle, ils sont lourds avec des secrets inutiles.
“Porque la gente tiene olvidarse entre el sueño <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />del día y el sueño de la noche, la puerta del onyx y la puerta de la perla, son pesados con secretos innecesarios.
“Everything that wakes on the brilliant Jeegoo is the sun star's extravagant dream, its panpotent light, legerdesun, so tricksy — dirt, water, un poco cunning pattern, the sun the sun, and presto appears the daffodil, the panther, and marmalade.
“So they could and should honor the sun which is the beat of their heart, but they went and got all weird and wan and went inside where their fierceness died.
“Wizards watch the sky and keep the stones, immense, erect. They count the days and measure the shadows. The meager madness of the obedient will ebb, and the abundance of the sun's profligate gifts will be restored in story and in constant celebration.
You'll remember that you are immersed in a glory, a sea of fire. The sun will be sung.”
..for digrif 12.24.06
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notes:
Vuravura & Jeegoo are names for Earth;
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images
pink cliffs, MarkL, gallery 1050;
changing sun, under the sun acts up, istp nasa hot pics;
dancing flares, riti, 9:The Sun;
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13 The Road . Eb . Grass . Rattlesnake Tooth . South . tzol 52 12.25.06 mon
758 days/2y27d left of the pipsqueak despotism/1537
ffwofw1201§26d2h33m11s33.84g3.25g;
mozart..9.77g
..
the education-obsessed world begins today with you ..
.. let’s spend the $820,000 per minute Military Budget on education instead
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I'd love to see the sun again this week. Right now it's just one in the afternoon and because of the rain it feels like it's 6PM.
I guess Clee Fanger meant it more cosmically than my just complaingin about the weather. I have to remember that even the rain is a marvel.
Clouds are the most astonishingly brilliant way to move water around a planet. That is engineering on an imaginative scale quite breathtaking. (You recall of course that the etymology of astonishing is to strike with thunder, while we're on the rainstorm theme . . . .)
You get so much more rain than we do so I do sympathize. Rain falling out of the sky is marvelous tho, as you say.
As a child of Earth and Sun, reading about Clee Fanger makes me feel yet more at home, “immersed in a glory.”
I think it's time to come out of the grokkers' closet at whatever peril. If the planet were found to be too precious, who would listen to all the Heaven floggers?
Go for it, pogblog, others will follow you out. Like me.