The larger question (in my mind, at least) is this: Are all non-canonical texts inherently heresy? If yes, why? If not, why don't we include them in the canon or at least as an apocryphal addition?
I have never understood the affinity for personalized plates. I think of them as one more way to make yourself more easily identifiable by the state troopers, not something I want to accomplish. In any case, here are a couple I saw today:
Montana Plates
JEDI KNT
translation: "I live in my mother's basement"
Idaho Plates
WE B OK
no, we be illiterate
More dreams involving chewing gum. This is getting ridiculous. Last time I mentioned this, someone posted a possible interpretation from dreammoods.com:
To dream that you are unable to get rid of your gum, suggests that you are experiencing some indecision, powerlessness or frustration. You may lack understanding in a situation or find that a current problem is overwhelming.
Perhaps.
Little Miss Muffet stood in the shower
Washing her face and her hair.
Along came a spider
Which dropped down besider her....
And she freaked out, squished it with her shampoo bottle, and washed it down the drain.
I hate killing spiders, really I do. They're very useful creatures, and this one didn't mean any harm. Sigh.
So, Apple has decided to post instructions on how to install Windows XP on the latest Intel-based Macs. I am astounded, but our stock seems pretty happy about it.
Step 1: Listen to an hour-and-a-half of a sci-fi/fantasy audiobook during your daily walk.
Step 2: Read a couple chapters from a religious memoir after dinner each evening.
Step 3: Read a few dozen pages of a literary novel before bed every night.
Step 4: Dwell on the anxiety of yet another dream about mouthfuls of gum.
Step 5: Toss & turn.
Step 6: Enjoy strange dreams about monks, airplanes, magic, escalators, and shape-shifters. And more gum.
During my walks, I like to stop at the park for some crunches on the swing set. Ten or fifteen minutes generally does the trick. I get to feel the thrill of heights and the wind in my hair and get to burn some calories like I'm a kid again.
Today, a little boy, maybe 6 or 7, was using the swing next to the open one, and as I approached, before I could even sit down, he was calling out his introductions.
"Hi! What's your name?"
"I'm Jennifer."
"That's my mom. Her name is Jennifer too. And that's my little brother."
"Hello. Beautiful day."
"I have two brothers."
"Really? I don't have any brothers."
"No brothers?!"
"No, but I have a sister. She has a little boy about your age, and he has two brothers AND a sister."
"Cool."
And then came the awkward moment when he wanted me to be friends with his parents. And, of course, adults do not generally make new friends with a stranger on a swing set having a conversation with their child. We just stared at each other, finally uttering "nice to meet you" or some other innocuous greeting.
Eventually, they moved on to the jungle gym, and the boy smiled and waved goodbye. When did we adults become so closed off and afraid of each other?
