Which Reminds Me

When we were living in El Salvador, where fireworks of all kinds are perfectly legal, unlike in the U.S., my Dad used a piece of wood and metal pipe to build a small cannon which we used to shoot of silbadores, which are the whistling type of firecrackers. If you just light them on the ground they go crazy in all directions and you have to jump out of the way, but if you shoot them off in the little cannon they go straight up in the air, directed away in a cleaner way so that we don't have to worry about them circling back around and hitting us. Down there fireworks are shot off at Christmas and New Year's. Their independence day is in September so they wouldn't understand too much about July 4.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember Lilian Pilarinos who taught at the Missionary Kid school, although she was never my teacher because the year that I was in 8th grade she was teaching the little kids (1-4 grades). Although she was from our church denomination, she was from Louisiana, New Orleans area, so she had a peculiarly Confederate view of the Civil War. She was also Greek. I remember her explaining to us some things about that in her interestingly Southern Confederate way even though we didn't quite see it that way. Our grandfather McClellan was a big fan of Lincoln, I seem to recall. Sometimes people called her 'Lil Pil' because that was her name abbreviated and also because being a pill means being something of a puzzlement. She was often heard to complain that she felt like a spare tire in the world of married couples that were the missionary families. Yes, I do remember her saying that, but that is often how single women missionaries feel when they are living in foreign countries where there is no romantic attachment available, nothing unusual about that. Life is just all a job. That is just the way it is. You are there to work work work, not to continually annoy us with your allusions to spare tires, not to destroy the lives of the very children you were sent there to instruct in the ways of life. But I digress.

Which Reminds Me

The snarky Walkers were trying to make some points about single women missionaries who included their stepmother, Luisa Jeter Walker, who was a single woman missionary before she married their widowed father. Ok, so, whatever. I am glad that I am not in her shoes. Luisa wrote a three-volume history of AG missions in Latin America and, despite the many years she spent toiling to compile this mass of information, thus proving herself to be a lousy historian. As proof of this I offer the chapter on El Salvador which entirely omits any mention of my family even though we were there for eight years as appointed AG missionaries, almost as if we never existed. But we were from Southern California, a district that has since vaporized itself. But the book was written in Spanish so I don't know if most people in the U.S. would have noticed this. But I have no desire to engage in dialogue with the snarky clueless Walker family.

Which Reminds Me

Why is all this attention focused on me? Someone forgot to send the snarky Walker family to the firing squad to have their empty heads blown off. The Walkers were in South America but I wouldn't know anything about that. This attempt to transplant me to South America is pathetic. Just because I was our college classmates included that Ecuadoran family, the Santiagos, does not mean that I would be able to comment intelligently on their relationship with the Walkers and others in South America.

Which Reminds Me

Do you feel your strength Wayning? Yes, you are a weakling when you put all your faith in the two little redneck skunks who are best forgotten in obscurity never to remembered by me ever again. Nothing they say or do matters in the long run.

Which reminds me of a story that I once heard about a girl who was raped by two guys. How sadly shocking to hear that such a horrible thing could happen at our college. But I do not recall the names of the persons involved or any details of that situation, just that it happened. Truth is stranger than fiction sometimes.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, how well I remember the time at church when Craig commented on the blouse I was wearing, that I had sown myself, and said that it looked like I was wearing a tablecloth. So nothing much is expected to come from that corner of the room.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, you do many things right and yet this one thing I hold against you, which is your genocidal hatred of the single redhead woman. The married redhead woman at least has a husband to protect her from the hostilities all around her but the single redhead woman has no one to help her. She is just all alone in the world without money, without friends, with mostly nothing. So repent, turn from your wicked ways or God will come and snuff out your candles.

Which Reminds Me

Oh, was I supposed to bow down and kiss Pam's wedding ring? Ick! I had thought that ceremony was reserved for the Roman candles or whatever it is you call your Illuminati or Freemasons or for some other decorous royal ceremonies that do not apply to regular people such as myself. I could elaborate even more on this point but enough said.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, well, that would be really nice of you to let me go. You can just mail my retirement check to my current address so that I can make all the necessary arrangements to disappear into oblivious retirement where no one will hear from me again, thank you very much.

Which Reminds Me

You have a lot of nerve bragging to me about New York. You are the ones who sent me a message about the "Importance of Being Earnest." And you also imagine that the origins of Sesame Street's Elmo have some special interest for me. If you had done your fact checking, as you should have if you deserved your top-dollar Madison Avenue salary, before dropping bombs on innocent bystanders such as myself, you would know that I am obviously not related to Earnest and also that my surname did not begin or end with him. So why are you screaming in my face on a continual basis? I am not descended from the Calkins of advertising fame, needless to say. I am descended from a poor folk branch of the Calkins family who migrated westward in the mid-19th century looking for jobs and better opportunities because the East was already built out and there was no room for us in the "In." So just because my surname comes from Hugh Calkins who landed in Connecticut in about 1640, that does not mean that I am still there now on this present day. And also, our spelling does not accommodate references to the star of "Home Alone," who is no kin to us that we ever heard of. There is no "u" in my surname spelling.  So perhaps all of this goes to show that you are the ones who need to work on your spelling.

Which Reminds Me

Well, just because I once played a game or two of chess with some guy whose name I cannot remember, that does not mean that my checkmate on him was deserved. I don't know if I actually won or if he let me win because he was teaching me how to play chess. So that was just one game, not a lifetime commitment.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I know, my personal diaries are full of me talking about how nobody likes me. This is a problem for me but I stopped keeping a diary long ago which means, perhaps, that I no longer care whether or not people like me. I have perhaps learned by long experience that it is useless to complain about that when actually perhaps those people are not worth having on my side when I am usually right anyway. If they are usually wrong anyway, obviously their low opinion of me has no value.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, well, I hope this doesn't mean that I would be forced to marry some stupid jackass. If you were to force me to say what I really think about your F-bomb idiot brother you might like me even less than ever because, well, even George Washington admitted to chopping down the cherry tree, so obviously it is OK to tell the truth.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, one would think that these horrid people of New York would apologize to me for shoving their pile of junk in my face. I really don't want your elephant junk, etc.. As the Bible says, you can't take it with you. I will be just fine without your pile of elephant junk cluttering my life. You people of New York are obviously the most selfish horrid rich people ever. Shame on you!

Which Reminds Me

During the time I was at Evangel College, I remember someone mentioning that some of the top leaders of the church denomination were known to belong to secret societies of the Southern variety, the Sons of the Confederacy or something like that, the church headquarters being located in Missouri, a state with a considerable amount of slavery in its controversial past. So someone was saying that was something that was cause to be concerned. Yes, I suppose so. Also, you could choose to be concerned about that if you were the Cranfords assembling some game board problematics. But when it comes to church, we just want everyone to go to church. We just want everyone to be there at church to hear the Good News. We really cannot discriminate against persons who belong to exclusive country clubs and/or other associations representing a variety of personal interests of the various members and/or hangers on who come to church for spiritual reasons in varying degrees of spiritual depth. It would be good if everyone could attend a good church that fed their spirits in a positive way but this world is a very imperfect place so perhaps that is not always possible for a variety of reasons. Utopia is the title of a book about someone's wishful thinking perhaps but not a reality for most of us living in the real world.

Which Reminds Me

Speaking of lukewarm vomit, you obviously refer to the pathetically dull and boring Five clique from Oakland Park. They affect such airs of respectability, and yet are camping out all in one co-ed tent without differentiation as to who is single or not, not that we were ever invited on this and other trips. We only heard about these things in a roundabout way. Obviously, you will stop at no lie or deceptive tactic to promote your little Pammie Puke and her pack of cliquey snobs from Michigan. So we all have to sit here and listen to them tell us that her pizza restaurant manager father ought to be brought in to save the book publishing company from financial ruin, when actually a pizza restaurant is a very different animal from a religious book publishing company. (What if I am not interested in learning the restaurant business? Is it compulsory that we all work in restaurants? What if I want to do something different than a restaurant business? I may or may not want to eat there depending on the food quality and prices.) Also, the publishing company was subsidized by the very church denomination that Pam so nastily derogates in her non-denominational heart, so obviously the profit motive does not entirely apply to them, meaning the not-quite-independent book publishers before they were cut loose from their previous denominational ties, the denomination retaining only certain proprietary forms of literature, such as Sunday School booklets and that sort of thing. And who are we to argue with the president who was sent here to institute reforms of some vaguely nondescript variety? Not that I would normally think to mention this, my name not being Susie, who was never shy about broadcasting her low opinion of Pam and Craig. Do you really think that I didn't notice Craig's voice in the ozone layer muttering dark threats about the mean things that he is going to do to me? So obviously I will have to return fire. Well, I could turn the other cheek but then again they would just continue their whining and never learn anything. Normally I would prefer to maintain my characteristically diplomatic silence because at least I am aware that I have no power or interest in their situation. But as you insist on obfuscation to a ridiculous extent, we are forced to spend most of our time answering these unbearable charges. Due to your obnoxious interference, my entire life is now mostly a huge pile of debris and rubbish. You say that I should get on with my life and move away from home, and yet due to your obnoxious interference I need my parents more than ever for life support. The Bible commands me to honor mother and father, and yet due to your obnoxious interference I am unable to fulfill my duties to family, which makes me worse than an infidel according to the Apostle Paul. And yet you insisted on ruining my entire life in order to exalt your little pet projects only vaguely described. So obviously my life is now entirely a broken mess and I a nervous wreck with only yourself to blame. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I would agree that my voice did not blend very well with those two caterwauling Mexican bimbos. So that was an interesting experiment never to be repeated.

Which Reminds Me

Someone upstairs, the Italians perhaps, has developed this elaborate scheme wherein they are waiting for me to come around begging for money from them, at which point, when I do that they will have the satisfaction of slamming doors in my face, because wasn't I subscribing to their low opinion of me all along? Don't I know that only their own Italian women deserve the money? Not me.

Not that I was planning to do any fundraising for charitable purposes such as the building of an orphanage in Romania. If I were to go that route I would only be copycatting something that Angie the Viking already did anyway. And didn't I overhear the catty things they were saying about Angie? So perhaps they would like another excuse to say catty things about me also. Anyway, I really wasn't paying attention to what Angie was doing so I don't know very much about that.

So obviously there wouldn't be any reason for me to have any faith when there is no heart for children there, just an elaborate scheme to attach themselves to the ceiling at my expense. You referenced the Mary Poppins' tea party. Yes, well, obviously it is just all about them.

So obviously I would rather kill myself than ask you for help in raising money. I am just saying.

Which Reminds Me

I vaguely remembering listening to Chris Bueno rave about the musician Prince and his Purple Rain music, one of the few times I ever spoke to him. As for me, I never paid much attention to Prince and his music. I was not familiar with him and don't know anything about it.

Which Reminds Me

All this yapping about $1 million proves only that you have obviously been double-dipping at the Halls of Sacramento, capital of California. San Francisco is only part of the story. How utterly insulting that my own government would sell me a slave to these vulgar Italian Rainbow pizza making CIA agents, whilst the Viking witch cousins revel in power and glory without ever having to explain to us what actually happened. All we have is the text of these few documents, now that I finally learned of their existence, and yet we all know that there are many things not explained in writing by them. At least not yet. That wouldn't bother us so much if, to top it all off, we did not have these horrible Italian SanJoe idiots spreading their insidious brand of poison all over everything. So it just makes life impossible for me. I am just saying. I can't live this way.

You are so dumb you probably think that there was $1 million in a bank somewhere. The $1 million does seem like a nice round number to put on the paperwork. However, some hole in the ground oil well is never going to be worth near that much money when it is constantly degraded and dogged with depreciation attempts so as not to have to pay taxes on your slave properties. So, yes, I get that point. But I don't have all the pieces to the picture so just dogging me is not going to solve this problem. It just makes my life miserable.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I remember during high school hearing Raymond talk loudly about he was planning to be a millionaire by the age of 30. Well, good luck with that! But the millions dollars is not going to come from me. I am not planning to donate my entire income and living toward the economic and social support of my high school classmates. We each have our own road to follow in this life and who knows if we will ever pass this way again. As the song by rock band Seals & Crofts says, we may never pass this way again, so we got to laugh while the laughing is easy and so on and so forth.

Which Reminds Me

And I never have never been to South America, never been south of Nicaragua, so what would I know about the Hammonds? Why are you quizzing me about the Hays/Hammonds money? I have no idea of their existence, much less what all these hints about money might actually mean in real life. You must have gotten me confused with Sandra who was Joan's best friend. You could probably get plenty of information from Sandra. As for myself, I just have no idea.

Which Reminds Me

Actually, it has been a long time, several years, since I called anyone. I haven't made any personal phone calls in a very long time. The last few times I did, I got the feeling that someone forgot to tell me that I have been blacklisted and that my phone calls are not welcome. Any phone calls I make will be broadcast to the ozone layer and bounce all over the planet. Who knows what small thing I might inadvertently say leading to World War III unbeknownst to me. So maybe I will just not call you and thus save you the problem of having to forward my conversation all over the place, thanks anyway.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I suppose that it is understandable that people would be freaking out about Joan, but I cannot help you with that. Just because this person sat directly in front of me in the alphabetical scheme of things, that does not mean that I have any idea what was going on in her empty head. She imagines that I am intrigued by her mysterious airs, but actually I am not fooled by that. I realize that she is just so vain she thinks that everything is all about her. Sort of the same way that Rosanne is vso ain she thinks the Toto song is about her. Well, who can say if it was or not? So if these people are too busy staging their own self-important narratives, we will just leaving them to it. A reality check would just hurt their little egos.

Which Reminds Me

Alanna was parroting the praises of Jimmy the famous evangelist from Red Stick Louisiana, who was so highly extolled by the Pastors of the church there. Yet I say something about how I cannot feel any great admiration for him, I don't know why. Of course that was before we knew that he was so sick and mentally ill. I told her something that my mother had said about him back in the days when he was being watched on television, and he was frothing at the mouth, telling mothers to teach their daughters not to wear shorts, and my mother said he was exaggerating this point too much was evidence that he probably had some problem. So it is not good to base your faith too much on these big-shot TV preachers who are here one day and gone tomorrow, because anyway it is not about them. God is eternal. God is omnipresent. But we people here on earth are only passing through. We are on a journey to somewhere else.

Which Reminds Me

Also, Alanna asked me didn't I think that Loren was so cute? Don't I like him? Actually no, I don't think that I do, I told her, not to further elaborate on that point.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does get very annoying, all of this Alanna Haze clogging the airwaves. It was Alanna who called me (not the other way around) to tell me about how she had committed sin with a boy in the church. It was a shocking story. I had not even realized that those two people had ever dated, but that happened before my arrival. Oh, I didn't know that. And how was I supposed to respond? Not meaning to be mean, but I cannot accept responsibility for the misdeeds of all these people who did things wrong without any help from me. I can't just lie and tell her that sin is OK. Sin occurs when you are drawn into that situation by your own desires, not because someone knocked you over the head with a two-by-four. I already get that point. But anyway God is the judge of that, not me. God forgives sinners but still consequences are the natural fruit of sin. You have to repent of your sin and ask forgiveness and God does forgive you. Repentance also means to change your way of life and to turn away from the patterns that you can see might lead you into sin. So I probably said something about that. I don't remember what I said.

So it was shocking to learn that while the Poppyknows liked to flatter themselves on having attained the ministry, the quality of their people is pathetically low, basically a pack of street people. Well, it was actually Barbara Kraiss who said that, and who am I to argue with the District Big Cheese? I was there in that area maybe one year and then moved on because, really, there was no reason to stay. Not to be mean but I don't want to get caught spending too much time in such bad company.

Which Reminds Me

Anyway, I do not wish to share my personal thoughts with just every Tom, Dick and Harry out there on the airwaves. Some people have no sense of discretion in this regard so that after one or two indiscretions they are scratched off the list and permanently blacklisted. Money and accomplishments cannot save your name from the garbage disposal when obviously you cannot be trusted to safeguard any personal information whatever. You are so dumb you probably think that Faulkner won the Pulitzer for writing the "Grapes of Wrath" book. Wrong!

Which Reminds Me

Yes, we all heard the story of the man who murdered his wife. Her parents visited him in jail to pray for him. Still, the wheels of justice were set in motion and we cannot help him now. The government authorities are appointed by God for the purpose of carrying out justice as they see fit according to the law of the land. So we can pray for you to get saved but there is nothing that we can do to get you out of there.

Which Reminds Me

Someone was telling me a story about Dauna having had an actual confrontation with Debbie Tracy. Oddly, Dauna never mentioned that to me so I cannot say whether that is true or not. It could just as easily be a fictional story designed to probe for information or commentary from me. But I did not voluntarily offer much in the way of commentary on the subject of Debbie, now, did I? Some people might be surprised to learn how rarely we ever think of them if at all.

Which Reminds Me

I remember at college telling Dauna that I was on an airplane and they announced that someone famous was on board, Senator Kennedy and some other relative of his, but I did not go up front to see if that was true or not. Although my family probably wouldn't vote for him, that was interesting that famous people would be flying on a regular commercial airliner along with the common people. And then Dauna tells me some story about her family being somehow connected to that of Mary Jo Kopechne, the Russian woman who died in the fatal car accident at Chappaquidick. The Kennedys worked out a special deal with the Russians whereby Mary is defamed. So they are all agreed that it is well to be rid of Mary given her lousy reputation, and I suppose all the money also helped facilitate that agreement. So there is Dauna with her multi-million dollar settlement and what can anyone do about that? Mary can't come back from the dead to defend herself so whatever they say about her flies. The Kennedy-Russian deal is a one-way street in which they get all the money and everyone else is stuck with a mess. If we continue to let them degrade women in this way our culture has nowhere to go but downhill given that we already are the best place in the world for women generally speaking. Nowhere else do women enjoy such rights and privileges as here in the United States. South of the border everything is just downhill from here. So it is up to us to tell the Russsians we do not want to be hearing these wrongful stories about Mary. Something is wrong with this picture but I am not in a good position to do something about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, isn't that weird? Why am I receiving all these messages about the Johnson-Kennedy complex? Well, if these mostly illegal bootleggers can aspire to the presidency, why kid ourselves on that point? They perhaps did not get the message that my parents (and probably my grandparents also) voted for Nixon, which really damages my social prospects in that milieu, not that I care very much about that. Like I said, being a redhead does not necessarily indicate a sympathy for the dreary Irish Big Macs who so tortured my Scottish Presbyterian ancestors back in the good old days before law and order helped to level the playing field, but I digress. The Celtic thing is complicated. You were telling me some ancient stories about wild women that I had never heard before. I still can't quite understand what you were talking about. Third-hand scuttlebutt is very hard to document so long after the fact.

Which Reminds Me

I ask, why are all of these people screaming at me? I ask what do they want me to do? I ask what makes them think there is something that I can do for them? Is there nothing that my country can do for me? I was out of the country during Johnson's Great Society so I may have missed something on TV which may explain why I don't think this joke is very funny. So why can't they just tell me what they want in plain English? Until that happens I won't be able to say yes or no. I am not going to say yes without knowing what I am getting into. I just want my paycheck now but of course I would need to work a real job to get that. That's all that I need. So what do you want?

But there is a limit to what I would do for my country. To tell the truth, country is not at the top of my list of priorities. Come to think of it, I probably could and should refuse to cooperate with the illegal schemes of CIA agent high school classmates if their demands run counter to my conscience, when they are asking me to do something morally wrong, when they are asking me to disobey school rules.

I am not going to give blanket approval to something I can't understand. So unless you can explain something to me maybe I'll just have to say no.

Which Reminds Me

I have other options. I can always kill myself rather than submit to the wicked machinations of the Italian skunks. Louis was just another loathsome repulsive Italian skunk who is not going to get anything more from me, especially after his wife's slanderous lies. I hope they can get back together someday but if they don't, well, just know it wasn't my fault. He did it to himself.

Which Reminds Me

So just because Harvey's Methodist denomination is now defunct, that does not mean that we would appreciate ourselves being made a textbook case example of life after the demise of Protestantism in general and how that might go, and how the Roman Catholics would gleefully pounce on the opportunity to absorb us into their collective, or rather to kill us outright. Just because those Methodist mainliners are barely puttering along, having long since forgotten their original purpose, that does not mean that all of us are opting to go there. Some of us have other options. Thanks anyway.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I seem to remember that Harvey issued some warnings about the problem of Roman Catholics, even though his own particular denomination is no longer in existence. The Methodist Episcopal denomination may have gone extinct but we here are still happy to be Protestants and inclined to think that Harvey probably had some sort of logic for saying those things that he said about Roman Catholics even if we really don't quite understand where his head was at on some points. Life is short so we don't have time to relive the Protestant Reformation, as if that would help to dissuade those blockheaded Italians who imagine that they can pretend to be Protestants and yet still play the same Roman Catholic games inside, thus corroding the Protestant Church from the inside out, as if we could not see through that. You European Catholics say that you want to fight the Moslem threat but not until you have first destroyed the Protestant heretics in your midst. Well, by the time that is accomplished you will just all be Moslems and we will all be just nuked and gone so whatever.

Which Reminds Me

So while I am playing by the Christian rules of turning the other cheek, walking the extra mile, and not entangling myself with these wicked Italian CIA agents, they are playing the game and rules of war and seeking to destroy me at any cost. So if I just turn the other cheek, they will just hit me again and again and again. So obviously there can be no dialogue with them.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, that is so true. In order to prove myself a good citizen of the United States and also a Christian, I must turn the other cheek, walk the extra mile, and look the other way and not say anything about the wickedness and underhanded shenanigans and stratagems, the violent outbursts of temper, the street fights, the strangely angry harangues of these stupidly angry Italian people, in particular of Kathy and Raymond, whose violent displays of temper tantrum are well remembered from high school. Why is everyone so taken with these horrid nasty haughty and arrogant Italian people? Oh, but now that we know they were CIA agents, even less do we understand what their problem was, and yet even more are we sort of legally required to pretend that they were nice people even if they really were just weird. Even so, I can never trust them again for anything, especially not after they stabbed me in the back. But they were the CIA, so what was that supposed to prove?

Which Reminds Me

You were asking why don't I express more sympathy for Kathy's cause. You seem to have forgotten that Kathy is one of the nastiest meanest rich people on the planet. Kathy often lashes into strangely angry harangues at me for no apparent reason and I never had even the slightest interest in her stupid boyfriend. But Kathy is immensely rich and powerful so no one dares to protest her prominent displays of rotten attitude. Excuse me, but I never even met this dreary Kathy person until I was introduced on the first day of school by Heather, of whom there is likewise nothing nice to say. I tend to think that Kathy and Raymond were hired by Heather to sabotage my life. Why would the U.S. government be so interested in making my entire life a complete misery by surrounding me with these Italian skunks? I am nobody important. I don't have any money. You are all so ridiculous.

Which Reminds Me

I could also say something about needing to find my own life independent of boring little Pammie Puke and the nasty Roberts family. But I digress.

I think that I did discuss with Pam the problem of Carol Long so that another big mistake.

I should never discuss anything of a personal nature with Pam or anyone else for that matter.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it was so depressing having to work at Vida Publishers with Carol Long for a boss. Carol does her job very well but I do wish to be a clone of her or judged by comparison to her. I just can't understand how she finds it so interesting to cater to the whims and notions of those dreary Distribution Department geeks. As Carol's whipped gopher, I spend most of my time running back and forth to the copy machine to make endless photocopies of various items for them, not to mention the time that I spend laboriously transcribing their dictatorial pronouncements into printed matter, eventually destined for storage in the meticulously tended filing cabinet. I must use my middle initial to distinguish myself from cc, which means "copies to." But I do not wish to discuss with you the various jokes related to my middle name so I will omit that piece of information, thanks anyway. It is so easy for Carol to be a single old maid because, anyway, she gets an executive position and plenty of money to go along with paying for the business attire and so forth. I realize that some people only remember Carol and have no memory of me ever being there. So why can't I find my own position independent of and outside of Carol's shadow? Why am I still held hostage to Carol's shadow when it has been many years since she went to work for the phone company? I believe that I need to find my own life independently of Carol Long and Gladys Myrick.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, there is plenty of complaining going on about the complicated system of rules and how the whole system of rules and regulations is rigged to make us look bad, and yet no one is saying that we don't obey the rules, unless we play along with you.

And yet there you sit protesting and saying that I must be stopped. I wonder what they are so afraid of my possibly doing. What was that thing that I could do that so frightens them? I don't remember very much. Maybe you could remind me because I just have no idea.

And yet I say that I do not feel like committing suicide just yet. You could always kill me.

Who is more guilty, the one who threatens to kill yet does not kill or the one who does not say so and yet does kill. I say that the actual killer is the one in danger of the electric chair.

Didn't your parents ever teach you that little proverb, "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me"? That explains why we just ignore these foul-mouthed bullies of high school.

But of course that saying is not quite true either. Words do hurt, but sticks and stones are what break things.

Which Reminds Me

During the year that I was at Evangel, I do think that I am starting to remember that Rhonda Hurd might have mentioned that she knew someone who was attending CBC. Yes, well, that's nice. I too knew someone at CBC who I had known from childhood, but that is a very long story. Enough said.

Which Reminds Me

Oh, I forgot. Her name was Linda Sease, she who was seen at the fair with Kathy's boyfriend, whatever his name was. I don't remember very much about Linda, just that she was there but not in Honors division classes. I am just saying. I vaguely remember her but don't ask me what happened to her. I really don't remember very much about high school.

Which Reminds Me

More high school stories:

1. In the girls' bathroom, from the back I can hear Kathy talking loudly to some girls, near the sinks, venting her anger, talking about how her boyfriend was seen at a fair with Angela, another girl in our class who later dropped out of high school. After finishing my business, I leave the bathroom and happen to see Kathy's boyfriend standing there quite near the door. How much he might have overheard of Kathy's conversation I cannot say. I have no idea. I do not socialize with these Italian street people and thus do not pause to involve myself in their internal squabbles.

2. Someone has reminded me that I was once seen talking to Linda in the hallways of high school. Yes, I think that she stopped to compliment my new blouse and I said thank you. So that was nice of her to say something to me. Most people just entirely ignore my existence. The reminder chides me for taking sides with Linda, for not taking sides with Kathy and defending Kathy's part against Linda, and yet I cannot imagine why I should take sides in matters of no concern to me. You must have mistaken me for Patty Cruz, Kathy's best friend.

3. My sister and I once attended a fair at the invitation of her friends Toño and Conchi. There we tasted cotton candy and churros and rode on some fair rides.

Which Reminds Me

Why are all of these men so interested and curious about something that happened in the girls' bathroom? There were no men present when we were changing out of our gym clothes. Ok, so that was embarrassing, but there were only maybe three or four girls there at the time. I am trying to remember who they were? What would Allwood know about that?

And as I wander about the countryside, fully clothed of course, these little brown people stop to stare at me, thronging around, amazed to see the novel appearance of white people in the flesh perhaps for the first time in their lives.

But that was a different story. Those were two different stories, not to mention some other undifferentiated stories.

It would be unfortunate for these little brown people to be accidentally given too much personal information about me, a white person, as they are sometimes possessed of an intensely and inordinately prurient curiosity as to the secrets of white people. Their tiny little brains can't seem to handle the overload of information about white people being actually flesh and blood creatures. I am short and yet they call me a giant. They might protest when I try to explain that we are really not winged fairies with special powers flitting about the high school, and then again if they really knew that we were not mythically powerful they might try to prove that by killing us. But I digress.

And then we have the Italians who seem to be there only to prove to the natives that the white people are not to be trusted, that only they, the Italians, can be trusted, because only they represent the might and power of Rome. After all, their country is Roman Catholic. So that is confusing, especially when you consider that actually they are CIA agents and we are Protestants. But as everywhere there are plenty of clueless persons there for the fishing. But I digress.

Which Reminds Me

To tell the truth, I really don't need a U.S. president to tell me that my mother had two uncles, Uncle Winfred and Uncle Cecil. Were you suggesting that he was really Uncle Win-Fred? That would be wrong. I don't think that there was any hyphen or space inside Uncle Winfred's name. It would seem logical to suggest that both of these uncles are now dead given they were both born more than a century ago. We are sort of aware that Uncle Winfred's descendants in Texas would get the farm but the natural gas rights are distributed far and wide. And where would Uncle Cecil's descendants be? We don't really know. They never talk to us. Whatever.

Which Reminds Me

I think that Jim will need to explain for himself what he said to the shrill Italian hag shortly after arriving at SCC, although I did agree that it was a rather odd thing to be talking about with mere acquaintances that you barely met yesterday. And yet on the other hand it is rather awkward, these shrill Italian hags so cleverly pretending to be part of "us" when actually they continually work against us. After I am gone, it will be perhaps interesting to look down from heaven and watch the shrill Italian hags slitting each other's throats for lack of amusement for eventually there will be no one else left for them to target but themselves.

Which Reminds Me

Speaking of retired militaries on the prowl, I thought that I heard Jim crowing about something. Just because I was his date at the Christmas banquet one year at college, maybe he cannot think of anyone else to kick around. I think that Jim, in his shaky mental state, already had his one dinner chance to impress me and failed so there is nothing else for him to do but go to the back of the line and hang out with those other whiny losers who are also well forgotten by me. I am tired of hearing his sour grapes leaking around. I wouldn't be surprised to hear that he has confused me with someone else, maybe Dauna or that shrill Italian who dissed his language, or so Dauna said. Anyway, I do not want to be hearing sour grapes from Jim when we all know about his serious mental problems. We remember.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, why would Boykin go around masquerading as a Knights Hospitaller when the order is false? Do we really need a shadow army that goes around stabbing people like me in the back? Life is complicated enough already without retired militaries on the prowl everywhere. I think that you are only military as long as you work for the Commander in Chief. I think that is how the Constitution sets up the checks and balances and our Founding Fathers probably had a wise reason for doing it that way. I would prefer to keep the Constitution in place.

Which Reminds Me

I always thought that Dallas was a lousy soap opera that I never watched anyway. Perhaps I should be asking Boykin what is the use of masquerading as Knights Hospitallers when your order is false.

Which Reminds Me

How do we politely sue the CIA for sending us their trashy worthless families to ruin and sabotage our lives? I always will remember that Tom and Raymond had vocabularies limited to words that start with "F." There is not much depth there in trying to stimulate memories of any type.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I always thought your staged plays were so lousy, all this nonsense about my brilliant character being the 'bad guy' and your boring clueless 'Tony' supposedly the bearer of light, as if Tony's appearance at my front door would be anything but scary. Don't you know that Satan appears as an angel of light? So we are not so impressed with your silly stagecraft concerning Tony. Your line of dialogue mostly stinks.

Which Reminds Me

During the time that I was at Evangel, I remember that one evening there was a couple making out in the lobby of the dorm. People such as myself and others were walking by and we could all watch them through the large picture windows really going at it, not that we were trying to see something. They were just there in the public lobby for all to see, although their clothes were on, not off. I don't remember who they were so I really have nothing else to add to that. But I am quite certain that I was not the only person to see that and to offer commentary on the subject.

Which Reminds Me

Anyway, you are all a pack of liars. You never paid a dime, not even one penny, to cover the cost of my living, never mind all these histrionic speeches attempting to make me feel guilty about something, or perhaps to make yourself look responsible. You only blocked me at every step and then you remonstrate that I was not able to do anything. Well, guess what, blocked people are not going to be just sitting there knocking at the door forever. We might just get a clue and stop trying. Someday we are just not going to be there and then you will have to find some other punching bag to work against.

Which Reminds Me

All of this behind-the-scenes commotion makes me think that either everyone else is very dumb compared to me, or else someone upstairs is working very hard and will stop at nothing to build a case against me. They are saying that I must be definitively declared to be "bad" and possibly even "insane" so that I will not be eligible to inherit the money, because only "good" children can inherit the earth. As if there were no forgiveness. As if there were something worthwhile to be inherited or distributed. This whole planet is heading for a fiery destruction eventually so there is really nothing all that important for me to inherit compared to the importance of saving my soul. And how will we ever pay off this staggering national debt? It is all just a very obnoxious farce, obviously.

Which Reminds Me

So someone was talking about the logistics of divorce and in-laws, and about how Roberts is now divorced from the trashy Swedish Viking bimbos of North Central and is now married to some Arabian Genie in a Bottle. So the Swedish Vikings of North Central are the ex-wife of Roberts. Well, ok, whatever. As I was saying, I never had the slightest connection to ORU and the Roberts family so I have no idea why I should care about matters of no concern to me. We here in the AG have many evangelists and colleges, not only one.

Which Reminds Me

I vaguely remember that someone was telling me a story about Patti Roberts and whatever happened to her, not having a platform to sing loudly without a rich husband to pay for it. Ok, whatever. I never had the slightest connection to the Roberts family. Oh, was little Pammie wanting to brag about something, her illustrious and wealthy family connections perhaps, and we forgot to ask? I hadn't even thought of that. As I said, I never had even the slightest connection to the Roberts family of Oklahoma. We are AG so we couldn't care less about ORU. We have no shortage of preachers and evangelists in our church. We are not limited to one. And don't all of our families have those certain problem people that nobody wants to talk about? Why would I want that job to have to talk about them?

Like I said, I was not trained or expecting to have to deal with the weird stuff of Dolly, a distant cousin to Max, or so I might have heard somehow. I really couldn't care less about some dreary blonde bimbo named Dolly, especially not now. If Max wants to marry some trashy blonde bimbo, I think that should be all he gets. I really have no idea who those people are or why I should care. Not my problem.

I was not included in that bargain so I should not be expected to comply with secret regulations that are patently wrong and unfair to me as far as I am concerned from the beginning. I refuse to feel guilty about stupid blonde bimbos who are allowed to run wild. You have to self-regulate but I can't do that for you.

Which Reminds Me

Anyway, I never had any special "in" with those North Central Vikings. What were they doing in California? Perhaps they should have stayed at North Central, home turf of the Swedish trolls. The Viking trolls actually think it is funny to tell such long tall stories that have a wicked twist at the end. They'll just sit there laughing at your misery when you suddenly realize that they were just pulling your leg all along. So don't use me. I'll just refer you to them.

Which Reminds Me

You ask me what to do next? All I can say is that really you should concentrate more on chopping off Dauna's empty head and not so much on expecting me to explain how she got everything so twisted around in this nearly unrecognizable mishmash. Traces of quite a few things can be tracked back to Dauna. But should I be punished because Tim Cederblom was not interested in dating dumpy Dauna? I think not. I think that Dauna will ultimately be strangled by her own spiderweb. That is all I can say about that because I don't understand what she was thinking or rather who she was conspiring with behind my back.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, my story of healing won't be of much use to ORU in your particular quest. I was healed at home through prayer of family and church friends, not because any expensive evangelist being involved. So I really can't help you with that. Sorry.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I have often heard the story of myself being healed as an infant. So although I was too young to remember anything I do believe that God can and does heal sometimes if He is willing to honor the faith of those who ask.

Which Reminds Me

During the second semester that I was at Evangel College, I remember that a girl down the hall, who worked as a waitress at a local restaurant, invited everyone to attend a revival at a local church, so several of us went, and then the second or third night some of the guys also came along. Everything seemed OK until there was some strange thing said by the preacher and most of us did not return after that. I really don't remember the names of the people involved in that incident so I really cannot explain it very clearly. So that was nice of her to invite us but, anyway, there was no shortage of other churches there.

Which Reminds Me

It may seem all well and good for you to be talking about faith, but what if I actually have no faith in the empty promises of Bob. Would I have to bow down and worship the golden statue at the shrine of Bob to get this money? Don't I already know that Bob only cares about rich people, another reason why I am not invited to the parties, another reason to generally loathe rich people? It may seem all well and good for you to be preaching a sermon about the prophecies of the Bible, but what if the pieces just aren't in place right now? What if the rapture doesn't even happen in my lifetime? What if we just can't see the big picture yet when we are in the middle of a storm? So I still don't see what your point meant.

Which Reminds Me

I can indefinitely forever ignore the idiotic mutterings of Christie, but the problem is that she will never learn to keep her stupid Gladstein mouth shut by just being ignored. Christie will never learn to forgive those whom she has offended with her whiplash tongue if we just continue to ignore her boring family. But fortunately God has sent her over to the Baptist camp so she is their problem now. Not my problem.

Which Reminds Me

As Per Scripting (not that I would ever think of talking about this): Speaking of public temper tantrums, what are we going to do about those little Gladstone monstrosities? I often hear them cursing me backstage, and whining about every little thing that doesn't go their way, but I always just ignore the ignorant mutterings of those little snippy dogs from Alabama. Their mother has spent much time behind prison bars so perhaps it is understandable that they should have acquired such attitude problems. Thus we should be kind and charitable towards them and turn the other cheek, because it is understandable that they should have attitude problems in adjusting to life on planet earth.

Which Reminds Me

The Godwins were missionaries in Panama or else Costa Rica. I really don't remember them but they were at the Retreat. Although I did not attend the final banquet on Friday, having to leave early to take the SAT test or something like that, my senior year of high school, I do remember hearing that there were some couples amongst the children but I would only be guessing. Who did David Godwin escort to the dinner on Friday night? I have no idea. I really don't know those people.

Which Reminds Me

All this much ado and I was never a participant in the revolt staged by Pam, Sue and John concerning the secret money that Bob was allegedly squirreling away somehow in the books. I remember hearing Pam and Sue talking about that but I really do NOT remember the details of what was said, myself not claiming any ability to comment on that matter with any degree of credibility, myself having no firsthand knowledge of that matter, myself not believing that anything I could say on the subject would ever make the slightest bit of difference, only having overheard some gossipy hearsay of dubious quality given that it was only stupid little Pammie-Puke yapping like the idiot that she always was, and also I was already long gone when they staged a confrontation against Bob somehow. I really couldn't care less about those events. Don't those stupid people know that it is dangerous to confront people who have the power to fire you or, even if you are not their employee, to utterly mangle your personal life beyond recognition? So obviously I am never going to participate in that action or to provide any further commentary on that subject, no matter how many hints you drop in that regard. I just have no idea what they are talking about and couldn't care less. All I can say is that it is wise to utterly avoid them in future so as not to give them anything more to work on.