Should we chart the origins of Buster and, dare we say, HIS baby angel we would find that both in some way held on by spit and glue to a fate that might bring them to more than the usual destruction or mediocrity -perhaps the same thing- as Thoreau's most(you know, lives of quiet or worse disquieted desperation). Spit on the cheek of the endeared if slobbered Buster and glue on the often sore much loved back of LilithAnne.
Remember, valued reader, the Hebrew word for faith, emunah, means this very grasping tightly. Think of Ulysses bound firmly to the mast as the Sirens' song wet-willied his ears or Moses holding his arms aloft to secure the advantage in Holy War(the unmarried bachelor of religious bullshit) or SG by the sacred river squeezing the rock to teach Govinda or Q-L embracing that baby despite. . . Spit and glue has held the ridiculous, glorious world together and ask jesus, it made the blind man see!
