"Things at Kings is almost indescribable."

A fellow blogger, Mark Cour, at Wilkes-Barre Online (http://members.tripod.com/~wilkes-barre/), finally described Things At King’s. If I may quote him:

“Things at Kings is almost indescribable. It’s eclectic, it’s memories on parade and it’s observations from the front window when the snow flies. Never controversial, but always there.”

I never knew, until now, what this part of the blog universe might be called. “Almost indescribable” is pretty much on target, best I can see. There never was a goal here, except to make this a pleasant walk down a country lane, preferably unpaved, chatting about whatever came up.

For Mark Cour’s enlightenment, I’ve always felt myself living on the edge of the galaxy, sort of sitting there on the last group of stars, looking outward at the marvels of creation and dreaming. Next to my desk is a photo from the Hubble Space Telescope showing a huge amount of galaxies with their hundreds of billions of stars each. And nobody out there gives a rat’s ass if some religion can’t eat animal protein on certain days of the year.

What amuses me is the resemblance these galaxies have to a fried egg. Wouldn’t it be funny if, when we go to be judged, to find that God is a giant chicken? The average person eats 1,423 of them in a lifetime. So there is God, saying, “I think we need to have a little chat about your dining preferences.”