It was a discussion about good and evil, whether there is evil. Someone was talking about the tired parareligion of Kahlil Gibran. Is there evil? Are people evil? Is it just something you do or something you are? Does a bell go off when you get the answer right? Someone brought up Columbine. Who is to blame? Society? The parents? Marilyn Manson? As for me, I am fairly convinced in the freedom of the human self as expounded by Sartre in complex, wordy French. I don't blame Sartre, though. He was an awful bastard, it seems, but freedom is not his fault. He only observed it. For my part, I blame life trying to live in the path of a bullet. I blame the bullet. I blame the shooter. I really don't blame anyone. How could we prevent it? It already happened. There's no such thing as postvention. Let's go to lunch and talk about something else. I wonder if there is lunch in the world? If so, who is to blame? I want to thank them.
You cannot blame me if I love you. It's not my fault. It's nature or nurture. Ephelia said it was "irresistible as death or fate." I love you because, suddenly and quite unexpectedly, you were there, and I was doomed. It's too late now. All we can do is have lunch. I could really go for lunch. Won't you come along?
None of the great creation stories mention who made lunch. It's too bad. I'd like to thank her, or him.
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
