Sunday 2 May 1999


Pic of the day: Reading.

Despite the serious title of the book, "A talk with God" is actually a funnybook. Comic book. It's a collection of Savage Dragon, a somewhat tongue-in-cheek superhero book. Well, a bit more than somewhat, I guess. For instance, there's this gorilla with a human brain attached who robs a bank, and then this guy with a bird-like head shows up and beats him up. Afterwards, the police try to find out what happened: "Who came first, the chicken or the ape?"
The title refers to the episoder where Dragon's arch enemy makes a deal with the Devil: She sells her soul to send Dragon to hell. However, none of them have asked God. God turns up, and boy is he angry. In several graphic pages, God beats the living snot out of the Devil, all somewhat to the confusion of our hero who happens to be an atheist.
A rather strange comic book. The theology may be way off, but the humor and the drawing is superb. To get the most out of it, you really should have read a wide selection of superhero comic books, though. It crawls with in-jokes.

I've played a bit with my computer today, and also played a bit with clothes, old and new. Now as midnight approaches I'm starting to get a headache. Not very strong, but noticeable since I have headache so rarely. (I think I've mentioned practically every time I've had one during these months.) Someone at the workplace had a pretty bad flu on Friday, could be that. Or just a side effect of the periodically high blood pressure induced by heavy lifting and the full-moon horniness, which is pretty bad today. Lots of times I've been really excited, with my heart pounding and stuff. It could be that my body is trying to morph into werewolf form, but I doubt it. The only thing that changes is, well, the adult stuff. Presumably this too will pass.

I hope I'm not getting the flu. I'm out of yoghurt, nearly out of milk, out of chocolate, and I still don't get paid for sick leave. But of course, in 100 years it's all forgotten. Unless people in 2099 have a hobby of reading ancient web pages. I doubt it: If we survive that far, the Internet will probably have morphed into something we can't even imagine today. Old web pages may be as accessible as 8 inch floppies today. So our best hope, if we want to be remembered for a while, is to mean something to someone. I think I've done that, albeit only a little to a few. Certainly not enough for 100 years. Perhaps for 50? I wonder if Dr Supergirl will tell her grandchildren about the strange guy who met her sparkling blue eyes when she could barely look over the edge of the table, and who loved her more or less like his own life for the rest of it?

I really really hope there is a God who looks at us, because love is the kind of thing that should be remembered for eternity. There are lots of things I have forgotten already; but the people I have loved, always have a place in my heart. Even those who have crossed over the one way bridge. Even those who have turned their back and forgotten me. For my love is mine to do with as I choose, and I choose to keep it with me always.

Blasts from my past:
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