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Mourning Becomes Advent
As the Christmas season approaches, I find that I am filled with a low-grade dread. While Christmastime was once a wonderous time for me, the degradation of the world in my lifetime has brought me to a place where I pretty much despise this time of year. I have no new observations to offer; many people already roundly denounce the commercialization of the season in which we celebrate the birth of Christ. It has become a filthy, tawdry, grasping, shoving time, a time in which people stand outside shopping centers and ring a bell for a now-flaccid organization whose focus is hateful and ridiculous to many of the bell-ringers themselves.…
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Free Stu Scheller!
When Jinx and I stepped outside Sunday morning into the mist, I saw a funnel spider’s web in the grass. It was one of the larger ones I’ve seen in a while, big as a plate and perfectly situated. I knelt down as best I could in the grass and examined the structure. How many hours did it take to build? How successful was it in trapping food for its builder? All those little struts and girders and beams and buttresses and studs and strips and joists…all from the body of the one who erected it and then retreated back into the funnel to await that trembling signal of live…