[MD] Virtually meaningful?

[Joseph Maurer]

Hi Peter,

I was happy to put into perspective the way I view things.  I don't know
that I would imagine a Witch Doctor Life throwing DQ.  I guess I am
addicted to evolution.  I recognize addiction to a tune.  For the past few
years after singing I feel a glow that is not in proportion to the effort
expended to produce the notes.

Joe


On 9/16/08 2:31 AM, "Peter Corteen" <psigenics at googlemail.com> wrote:

> Hi Jo,
> 
> sorry to put you to the trouble to reply to my provocative and sarcastic
> question; even so, I can't respond positively to your post except to say I
> recognise the dead-end of slavery to habit, convention, conditioning and
> general mechanicality to which you allude. We can talk until we are blue in
> the face about ways to circumvent these obstacles to our well-being, invent
> systems and indulge in wishful thinking 'till the cows come home but I
> suspect the actual way around is completely unsuspected.
> 
> On a lighter note I found myself humming the tune to this song by Don van
> Vleit while I typed the above
> 
> When the Witch Doctor Life throws his silent bones
> Some are crowned kings while others lose their thrones
> When the Witch Doctor Life throws his silent bones
> Small "O" mouths scream and run to Mama Kangaroo
> Insecure pouches wherein hide beggars and drones
> And babies and bums and buzzards
> Mama crouches and smiles her old useful smile
> And old ego roars, laughs yesterday's gasses
> While children and angels gasp
> And follow a shepherd on crutches
> 
> 
> 
> When the Witch Doctor Life throws his silent bones
> Some flew the dream, some turned to stone
> And the children sing
> And the heavens ring
> Worn by the shepherd with the folded wings
> And the bones that sing of silence
> 
> 
> 
> When the Witch Doctor Life throws his silent bones
> Some are crowned kings while others lose their thrones
> When the Witch Doctor Life throws his silent bones
> Small "O" mouths scream and run to Mama Kangaroo
> Insecure pouches wherein hide beggars and drones
> And babies and bums and buzzards
> When the Witch Doctor Life throws his silent bones
> Some flew the dream, some turned to stone
> And the children sing
> And the heaven ring
> The bones that sing of silence
> 
> -Peter
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