Wilhelm or William?

Blogging possibilities are illimitable for intriguing oneself or for fatiguing self and others. Unless there is a hurricane in the Gulf, for example, to comment constantly on the weather, which this morning seems nonexistent, just a Florida Gulf Coast muggy morning not nearly so delightful as yesterday. I guess it wasn’t autumn after all. Here on the downstairs front porch waiting for the carrier to toss the PCNH while the sprinklers shift to different zones hoping to get me: each lawn sprinkler system has its demon, each head its own pixie.

It’s not PC to say the paper boy, anymore it’s the carrier. Same with the mail man.

In the blackness there’s that long-legged bird doing its squawking sound, from where, can’t tell. Yesterday when I went down to the Bay it flew with a huge protest out of a pine tree, more often I see it wandering down front, fishing just off my beach. This is a brown bird, not the white one. 

So what then? Yesterday’s primary? I haven’t looked again this morning for upsets, but no surprises last night. Give it up, some of you, unless you just like your name on little signs, and going round the Wednesday morning after to collect them. I trust the majority of folks are happy though, that’s the way with a democracy. Or at least various pluralities should be tentatively satisfied. Until November.

Not me. Oh, with the election primary, I’m good, but yesterday’s TWP had a headline that world leaders have lost confidence in our WH to take command and lead the way against ISIS. I didn't read the article but admit to preferring John McCain to lead such a war, not Romney what the hell does he know about war, but McCain because the situation has gone off extremely critical and John knows better the meaning of all out and how to proceed and what to drop, and critical is where we have arrived because of stupid Tuesdays in decades past. Stop it, Bubba, lest you offend someone.

Have not scanned news online this morning, or opened email. Today: pay a couple of bills, start sermon thought for Sunday, open my new book that the Easter Bunny left on the front porch yesterday. W. Wrede on the Messianic Secret in Mark. Das Messiasgeheimnis in den Evangelien published 1901 but my German is so bad that I have the English translation not published until seventy years later, J.C.G. Grieg, 1971. Seeing that Wrede (is it William or Wilhelm, make up your mind) is credited with opening that box -- and seeing that throughout Year B we read Mark and I intend that we read and discuss Mark in my Tuesday morning Bible seminar, after reading and discussing the Gospel of Thomas -- I might as well read Wrede. Supposedly also, in the book Wrede argues persuasively that Jesus‘ itinerary was not historical but the evangelist’s literary construct for purposes of his agenda, and I’m intrigued. Everyone else can be fatigued, I couldn’t care less.  

W

Little scratchy this morning are we, Sonny Boy?