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23824Joel's Etheric Hooters

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  • Mike helsher
    Apr 3, 2006
      > Now this latter metaphor is for Joel's benefit. Joel, I must tell
      > you, you do have a nice pair of etheric hooters; you even have a
      > nicely shaped etheric ass, and you have done so much admirable work
      > in PoF and epistemology that the average John, or, Johannes, would
      > select you over so many others in the "stable." I mean, you really
      > know how to swing around that pole and get those dollar bills
      > into your Native American motif G-strings, etc....

      i like joels hooters too. he and I have walked a similar path and
      though in the physical I my need to catch up with honing some skills,
      (writing and typing and spelling and a boat load of reading)I do
      believe that I catch his drift on occasion. we often sail on the same
      breeze. but sometimes Joel loads his cannons and turns into the wind
      and lobs out a few broadsides on the ships he sees sailing in a
      diffrent direction. I've always loves the old pirate ship movies
      and "master and commander" was a huge thrill. But I usually just
      watch these big gunned jousts form my own little "seemingly seaworthy
      ship of doubt...." But I was at one time inspired in part by joel to
      write the following little ditty:

      The Sea of Love

      My seemingly seaworthy ship of doubt
      Is but a speck of angst, churning in a sea of Love
      That can only be navigated by the innocence
      That is liken onto a child

      My compass broken, I sail by the stars of the night
      For I was told that the sun is but a burning ball of gas

      I learn to live within the angst
      Encased in a dream that seems so real
      And all that I grasp in this dream turns to stone
      I save them in the belly of my ship of doubt
      Until one day it finally sinks

      And there I am...alone
      My speck of angst turns into a black hole into which I fall
      And all that I thought that I was
      Weighs upon me
      Like the falling of the night sky onto the earth

      I struggle and try to think like a snake
      I slither in the manmade crevasse
      Of the world of the machine.
      Squeezed like a sardine
      And prodded by the pecking of hens
      Until all that remains
      Is the Horror

      It was then that a Whole Universe
      Contained In a tiny drop
      Of all that was left of the Sea of Love
      Came forth...

      From the corner of my eye

      Thanks Joel

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