Even in current contemplations of an 11-dimensional cosmos
(plus [n+1] and exponentially-rising petabytes of stored mouth-noises from throughout the centuries)
-- the Two Mysteries remain as inaccessible to our febrile mind-fluff as when the cave drawings were fresh.

One: that there is ANYTHING. At all.
Two: that there is a creature capable of both self-awareness (to some minuscule degree) AND of wondering w.t.F. it Came From.

And all the rest is *talk..
-- Carousel / Oscar Hammerstein II

* {wishful.. VS fearful.. Pontiff-ically invented-from-whole-'cloth'?}


All I know fer-not-so-shure, is:

I asked Cthulhu {or by any-other-named Thing 'Listening'} for a reprieve for my irreplaceable cat, Squeak:
near-fatally injured by an overdose of a dangerous NSAID Vet-experiment {litigation and/or settlement pending, shortly.}
At that time, a few days after this event about which I had been denied prior knowledge
-- 3 vets, queried by my neighbor and given the 3 crucial blood #s … each and all said in similar words:
'almost certainly fatal.. soon'.

Omitting clinical details involving subcutaneous lavage: #s got even worse after a day or two, {the one on which I 'asked'}
then … the trend reversed over successive days. Over several days Squeak's blood #s returned to
~~ level before this 'insult' [the official' word', in pathology!]
A second lab result confirmed the first, and no vet had an 'explanation'.

From January through ~ mid-June, he was almost completely normal save for an occasional 'tic', head-shake as might be a neurological sign or.. not much at all.
So maybe 'God' is Love? or


Then, in June came vomiting and similar signs of kidney failure. Retry of lavage drill failed.
He died on my lap 5:30 AM July 4, almost exactly one year after his first symptoms of the Insult had appeared, one day after a 'routine tooth extraction'.

Did I 'get' a Reprieve for Squeak?
'Reprieve' … a word intentionally not also freighted with a duration-wish (!?) is not cure, (that which is usually 'tried for'?)

Damned if I 'Know'.
I had relished each of those free-days, without any concept of duration allowed-into mentation.
It seemed that Squeak, the officially-miracle-cat was doing fine.
Even as the 'miracle' expired, it seemed it had been Enough -- both for Squeak and for me.
Quality not quantity, and those days were ones in which real Attention passed between us.
Couldn't possibly explain, even if I wanted to.

See? We don't know SHIT about anything but trivial-detail stuff about the visible and mundane, as of 5/6 of the way through 2010.
And I'll miss that creature, forever -- there couldn't be a second-One, but there are n similar ones abandoned with their McMansions, every day.
A few of the rescued will pass through these parts, (as much to celebrate that Squeak ever Was, as for any other 'reasons'.)

As for me, nothing has changed re. the disdain I possess for the overall-effect on wars, pestilence and compounded-ignorance apparently fostered / catalyzed
-- by that which is called, 'religion' --
as 'it' is actually practiced by most of the billions in thrall to 'it'.

Just maybe.. when that hoary concept is allowed to die its Natural Death,
something far more beneficent may have its chance to foster healthier Life
(if the planet still Lives, that is. As the current race-to-the-bottom limits the time left to grow-up?)

Folie a deux, folie a millón … the French always have just the right phrase


Pace, pace O mio Dio