Sunday, May 22, 2022

Sunday Squibs

 Netflixia: the black mood that settles in the soul when all the good series have been watched and the new ones all stink. 

Sure the old internet was full of rabbit holes, but there was always the promise of a bunny lair full of chocolate Easter eggs. Now your top hits are all tangents straight into John Doe’s store. 


Agape love looks to God, who we cannot see. Philos love looks to the world, which we see all too plainly. And Eros blinds us to everything but the beloved. 


The generation two back was virtuous. The last generation let things go. Our generation did the best it could. The next generation is going to hell. And the one after that is weaving the hand basket. 


Overthinking is never good. Unless you’re on the road to perdition. Then a session in the rear view mirror makes sense. 


Our first meeting was impactful, but I quickly scratched on cue. 


One condition for a long marriage is a willingness to go on each other’s wild goose chases. 


The old memories are the last to go, like initials that were carved into a young tree. Nothing new can be carved onto dementia's rough bark. 


Talk politics to neither foe nor friend. The first can get you killed. The second will waste your time. 


Only seven deadly sins? The scold can think of many more. 

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