ages and ages hence

Intrigued, last evening I looked up Richard Simmons and Graham Kerr (let the reader understand) and remembered Simmons. I could not stand Simmons, a repulsive figure for some reason I never worked out, just changed the channel.

Here’s what I think. In Time I’ll be fine again, I’m counting on it, counting days on it, days and weeks. And anyway, Time is all I have to work with, isn’t it. Flashbacks will fade in Time --

-- in spite of my view that Time is a human construct to understand and explain where we are and what we’re doing here.

Last evening I read and enjoyed this

http://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2016/08/the-multiverse-as-imagination-killer/497417/?utm_source=nl-politics-daily-082916. The multiverse idea makes sense to anyone whose God is not too small, to call on J. B. Phillips and perhaps Karl Heim. But counter to Sam Kriss, the idea starts with ongoing Big Bangs and seeing our infinitesimal minusculinity, speck on a speckness per 20th century Anglican evangelist Bryan Green, and imagines possibilities. The possibilities are real and do not include Sam's antimatterish absurdity, of innumerable identical, opposite, parallel, or anti-universes playing out life as we know it but people taking different paths, in various of which - -

instead of nodding at Pickett, Longstreet shakes his head,

graduating university I apply for NavCad, to be a naval aviator,

Our American Cousin is cancelled for that evening,

Admiral Kimmel orders the fleet to sail on December 6th,

Annie & Jennie makes for Carrabelle the next morning,

Ray waits until he returns from his Monday morning bicycle ride to book the cruise, thus arriving at the intersection minutes before the truck and makes his turn safely,

Ferdinand and Isabella laugh at Columbus’ proposal,

Saul’s spear pierces and kills David,

God is pleased with Cain’s offering,

Eve scoffs at the serpent’s urging to take a bite, …

Robert Frost takes the other road.

The eternal “what ifs” and “if onlys” haunt crushingly once the moment is gone. Years ago I officiated the funeral of a teenage girl my daughter’s age, fatally injured in a boating accident because her father glanced back to see why the motor was sputtering: every morning for the rest of his life he awakens from the dream in which he watches ahead and doen’t slam into that post in the river. No doubt, that happened in some of Kriss’s parallel universes.

The ‘if onlys” can drive one insane.

What if I had ...