In a Land of No Restrictions...

At those times when some about him moved to wax philosophically about the trials and travails of life, this one guy would always nod knowingly and comment, “Indeed, it is a hard row we all must plow,” until one day he thought, off to himself, “Hey, just what is my crop?”

During a discussion regarding the nature of fame, a farmer noted that, as opposed to the usual situation of a person being identified by the two parts of his given and his family name, that somebody’s really become important when, like a Moses, a Shakespeare, or Picasso, the world knows you by just “one name,” and his hired hand stopped and thought, “Wow! Just consider the implications then of being known by NO NAME!”

Casanova’s great-granddaughter tells me that a distinctly pleasurable part of her childhood was in growing up hearing the “unenlightened discuss enlightenment.”

Another fairly local deity added his two centimeters worth by saying that the best thing he liked about being a god was that you “don’t HAVE to play-it-as-it-lays.”

In a land of no restrictions, what you know, ARE predictions.

J.