About 50 days ago my best friend had a major stroke. He has regained some alertness and some control of the left side of his body but he still can't speak or write. Visiting him in the nursing home is surreal, as I do a monologue describing local events and the condition of his house and his pets, and he says nothing.
Such a vulnerable situation, to be nearly immobile in a bed in a nursing home and unable to speak for yourself, unable even to moan or say "ouch" when in pain.
I tip my hat to Yaldabaoth, the demented demigod who created this world and filled it with disease and hatred and death, all of which are reflections of his own corrupted nature. Yaldabaoth, your skill in obfuscating and dooming all that is good astounds me. And yet I know that we will ultimately destroy you.
07 June 2011
50 days without speech
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I applaud your last paragraph. Few have the courage, or the doom, to see the world through Gnostic eyes. No matter how hard I strive not to, no matter how long soever I seem even to succeed, I return and return to this world view.
I only wish I myself possessed the courage of your final sentence. You, sir, are a scholar and a gentleman.
Cordially --- David Lee Parker
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