Yesterday we left Port Tampa at 0530 and were slated, according to the Tom-Tom, to be home by 1930. Alas, we had to refuel and eat three meals and encountered two major accidents about ten miles and five minutes ahead of us on I-75/40 in west Knoxville. Fortunately we were getting off for a refueling when an emergency vehicle was getting on just east of us. We trudged through about twenty miles of stop and go traffic parallel to the freeway. So, we arrived home at 2245 hours instead. Not bad considering. This morning we began sorting mail and catching up and I paid a couple of bills live because they were due in the next couple of days. Trivia – most of life I think. None of it that important once one is out of here. Identity cards of various sizes and importance become absolutely much ado about nothing. We didn’t have any of it until we were written up by the state, county or city for being born. I see a strange sort of humor in the whole concept. When we arrive, we arrive – no papers; then we have to become “official”. Once arriving at HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither how do we become ‘known’ to whoever is in charge? Or do we become known? Who officiates?
In the Merlyn stories it is easier. Several gods/goddesses are in charge, but even there I don’t see a record keeper. Sometimes I think it would be nice to be here unofficially (with no one knowing this of course). If there were a real alien or two visiting the planet – well; that was what was fun writing about the Marsupials-Humanoids because some of them did just that – visited (but not for profit).
You are about to close the MacAir because you have nothing really to say. You keep glancing over to the Kroger entrance/exit looking for Carol on this rainy, gloomy day. Lunch at Panera today. Carol asked about your weight and you lied saying it was the same when actually you had gained two and a half pounds according to your new scales. – Amorella
It is rather depressing. I did eat but tried to keep within the 1500 calories most of the time – I exercised a lot (for me) but it made not one iota of difference. Oh well; so it goes or not. I’m done. It’s cold in the car – a miserable day. But, hey, we are alive. That’s worth something.
What’s it worth, boy? You and Carol being alive? – Amorella
Good question, though a bit unexpected. It was just a figure of speech, Amorella. What is anyone worth being alive? That’s a better question. I assume it is worth something, though I can’t imagine what it might be, that is, beyond what we ourselves think. Objective and purpose of consciousness beyond self-survival (including species’ survival). We are too involved to be able to respond satisfactorily to such a question. Aliens too, if there really are some. No one can no their own worth. I don’t even know what worth means in such a sentence. Define worth: “High value, merit” according to Oxford-American. I don’t know what that means except I don’t think the answer is something that everyone can agree on. I wonder what the reason is for that? She or he is a human being. What does that mean in terms of worth or value? Is one life worth a thousand lives? Are a thousand lives worth one? Why? Why not?
Do you think this is something the Dead would ponder? How much is a dead person worth? Is the value of one dead person worth the same as a thousand dead people? What do you think, orndorff, in terms of the Dead? – Amorella
Another good question, Amorella. At least it is for me. Officially though, with no further ‘official’ identity I don’t think a dead person is worth much of anything. This is a very odd subject to consider.
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