apoisemgdsguiiutg
Schlomo Minz said "Schlo it down and then you will hear." You will not find this in any books. He was seven, and kept the motto for himself. Which is fine because it was his, and, somewhat shy and unwilling to make himself a person other people might consider egotistical he kept it close. But the book can be found in an attic. Why is it always the attic of no one's house but in the basement of no one's house but in the middle floor of something somewhere no it's lost because it died a Schlo death. But really he said it. I'll vouch for it. Duh.
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All musical education is sexual education. All sexual education is musical education. There is nothing more sexual than playing an instrument except it isn't sex in the usual sense. I mean. A violin for instance is more like piece of furniture than anything though it does have a g string. And you can pluck it and we all don't know what the f hole means. I mean seriously. Look at the clarinet. You put it in your mouth. You play the reed until it finds a sound and wails. And the drum what is that but a pat a pat campaign to rap the sync of that sound? And an Orchestra is an orgasm building itself to beautiful proportions of statuary grace in telecommunication with one another as players, if you are one, and if you are a listener that's fine because that's you playing up there too. Anyhow, since we all need orgasms, let's all buy some instruments for our children's sexual education and love them musically into their fullest "ourselves," the "orchestra" and the "children." But of course we need to reimagine nothing other than beauty beauty beauty for all people.
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So I was interested in the commentary by Hubler Ross about my not recycling. Who's Hubler Ross? My boss. A man of the cross.
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Talent is not a thing that matters much. Follow-through is everything. Persistence is also everything, because in persistence persistence is love. Gravely. Then resurrectingly. Then Valiantly. Then variously. Then no one sees the thing. Then the thing is gone. Then it's bright again. Then the thing comes back. And that's fine, because we love persistently.
Love
Variance Fortlander is a place where all things are one. Where the place you want it to be is the place it is, and the place you want it to seem is what you really see, because what you see is the best and the best is the rest of the way of the year of the sheer joy of things the sheer joy of joy and the edge of joy is joy.
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my India is getting its facts together already. I can tell.
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Diaper Man Goes Commando
What, I said, quoting another Will,
is the price of experience? Is it bought for all a man hath
got to do with it? Nothing.
We used to wear rags for our diapers,
I remember that for me. I remember
wearing a soggy one.
Gallop gallop I love horses. Could we have more horses,
especially for the bounty and beauty of freedom,
and the children of them and how they frisk, criss-cross and roam?
I was eight. I wore my diaper to the beach
because my father said a dapper diaper boy
was what I was--pooper and poopy and pissy
and sissy. He was a clever rhymer,
plus a climber of all things relishable.
What a good man, no one every talked it truer,
nor clock ever tocked it smarter than me
that I was crumbs. Inflation of infancy
disinflation of the tiger was what I wore, until today.
Today I declare a day of gallantry and swordsmanship
against the dork: no diapers but hooves
and all the turtles and doves and turtles of the dove
of the world will sing my god
my god where for are thou my Romeo Pressure
Valiance is mine said the Lord of the scrum
So get out there and be a bum scrummer now go.
HB
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Variance (by Robert Burns, 1787)
There is not a thing that I wish and knot
the verie thing I know that fills the scote
of the vibrancy of thy glorious face.
No human that lived has seen the glimpse
of thy gloaming, but the very lovely art
of thy face is what is what there is.
Come to me, my very love and be
What is not love but love of me
And hear the very gorgeous interest
that the very interest of God has blest.
Conjure the vest of not a thing that will
Be of the very sweet thought of thee
And hear the very beauty of thy face
๐\e¦",r(!ace. (by Robert Burns, 1789)
(Courtesy of Sissy-fuss-Zephyrus)
Faith
There are low interest fortunes and sweet
sweet clementines that flower and flow till
the work is done, and the well is dug
and the human is found to be well
Call me stupid, but what is faith?
It is one height of love. It is the fill of peace
It is the simple homeward harmonies
and the complement of gracious being.
Call me intellect but is it not one of the best
of the omniscient wagons of red beautiful paint
shining in the western edge of the year and
yard? and the noon time and variation
of the clarity of the noon time?
(Courtesy of Sissyfuss-Zephyrus, 2025
Because he wrote it)
unisntehsimguisjaoppalsugnekosujgid
I sit behind the stage of life, practicing my lines with Mary...dkgidus, I mean when you have lines like that how do you do it yourself, alone?