...for Everything Has A Trace Of The

Don’t Worry About Being Good…. Aspire To Be Authentic.

But Once A Dead God, Always A Dead God, Even Resurrected. The Son Must Have The Taste Of Death Forever In His Mouth. The Trinity Must Be Tainted By It; There Must Be A Certain Stench At The Right Hand Of God The Father. The Horror Must Be Real. Why Would God Wish That Upon Himself? Why Not Leave Death To Mortals? Why Make Dirty What Is Beautiful, Spoil What Is Perfect? -- Love. That Was His Answer.

[the Taxidermist Is] A Historian, Dealing With An Animal's Past; The Zookeeper Is A Politician, Dealing With An Animal's Present; And Everyone Else Is A Citizen Who Must Decide On That Animal's Future (...) The Indifference Of The Many, Combined With The Active Hatred Of The Few, Has Sealed The Fate Of Animals.

To My Mind, Faith Is Like Being In The Sun. When You Are In The Sun, Can You Avoid Creating A Shadow? Can You Shake That Area Of Darkness That Clings To You, Always Shaped Like You, As If Constantly To Remind You Of Yourself? You Can’t. This Shadow Is Doubt. And It Goes Wherever You Go As Long As You Stay In The Sun. And Who Wouldn’t Want To Be In The Sun?

A Realization That The Founding Principle Of Existence Is What We Call Love, Which Works Itself Out Sometimes Not Clearly, Not Cleanly, Not Immediately, Nonetheless Ineluctably.