Making the world a better place.

Good attitudes all around, considering.


A sign from the gods!! Which god? Which do you think?

I hesitate to make claims like, "God favors me," but I will say this: God favors me.

How do I know? Because just yesterday I was sent a message from the gods, a message falling from the sky like an eagle screwing another eagle, or a flying rock that has suddenly fallen asleep mid-flight.
This message took the form of a mighty bird of prey, possible a sharp-shinned hawk, or, more possibly, a peregrine falcon! See? Can you feel the touch of the divine here?

Anyhow, I was out for a walk with my brother's dog, Laser, when from high above there came such a screeching and a cawing. Suddenly there was a mass of beak and feather on the sidewalk in front of me - a mighty falcon surrounded by lesser birds. The falcon and I shared a look of such intensity that, though it lasted only for a moment, volumes of wisdom were communicated. Which volumes? The Egyptian Book of The Dead, and the weirdo children's classic "The Neverending Story."
The short version of this was, basically: "Dandy, name the Childlike Empress, and save Fantasia from the Nothingness!"

Sometimes we call St. Paul "Fantasia."

And then the falcon took to wing once again, pursued by the garbage-birds (among them was a blue jay, the enemy of divine messages).

Can you help me? Can you save Fantasia before it's too late? June 27th is too late. Name the Childlike Empress. Name her (or, possibly, him) Pussywillow!

Oh, also, I looked into it, and I'm pretty sure the god in question is Horus.


Um, Pussywillow, Jagoffs.

Something occured to me this afternoon: the idea that every man (and some women, but mostly not) must leave something on this earth after they are gone - a mark, if you will, a legacy, a permanent scar, a song to be sung by the bards and folk singers of the future.

Actually, hopefully not folk singers, in my case. Folk singers are hippies, and I would sooner burn my fingernails off than have my name pass through the lips of a hippie.

Anyhow, the first step in creating my legacy to be the naming of a baby falcon. The falcon will be my helper and spiritual companion (after, of course, clever Fox). If you haven't read the bulletin post I recently made, go do that. If you have, well, just think of this as an excamation point.
Help me name this child falcon, this raptorling. Go to this link: http://www.smm.org/buzz/poll
and pick the name you know to be the falcon's true title (Pussywillow).

Now, I will almost certainly outlive this falcon (and if it isn't named Pussywillow, I will definitely outlive it, because, well, I know where the nest is),  but falcon magic is an enduring magic, and I want some of it for my own.
And, should this dream come to pass, you will al be able to look into the Minnesota sky at the noble "Skree skree skree!" of a falcon, and think "Pussywillow!"

Oh, also, get your moms to vote too, if you can. I think I play well with the "mom" demographic.

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