Today's devotional is called The Science of the Albino, and is prompted by a squirrel I saw on my morning drive:

For all mammals, the most important enzyme in the production of melanin is tyrosinase. The "classic" type of albinism is known as OCA1 -- OculoCutaneous Albinism, type 1. OCA1 involves a mutation in the gene which produces tyrosinase. Mutations in many different regions of the tyrosinase gene can cause OCA1. And I think we all know what that means.

It's the same with you and me: we might have a mutation in our "insultory gene" causing us to lash out at others, or maybe we have a wonky "wantory gene", and we end up being jealous of other folks' stuff and character qualities. Whatever your personal flaws, though, you can sure that there's a genetic reason for it. So don't go looking for healing or repentance or deliverance from demons (satanicus helperius). After all- you were born with that penchant to steal! (A mutation of the "fingerum stickym" gene.)

Today's prayer: God, why did you make me so screwed up? Oh well- as long as I'm not responsible! Have a nice day!

----

Not that I'm in touch with such things, but... we're officially done with that fad where people wear shoes with no laces, right? The Moc Trend has passed... am I right?

sleep has been running away from me. must be my respectable employment or something. anyhow, here's a couple o them poems on the matter. by the way, everyone go out and play Peasant Quest on homestar.


Hear the waves roll in on whitewash?
Smell that sweetly souring milk?
See the fading grid of hopscotch?
Feel the breeze o'er windowsill?

Well, It’s not there for nothing;
T’was no accidental scene
T’was a finely rigged construction
It’s a chilling, dark machine

Meant to send you into dreamland
S’posed to rock your soul right down
Gonna mail you out for business
'fore half-six rolls round

Hear the pop kids playing humdrum?
Smell the perfumed air of wealth?
See that fading dream of merit?
Feel the cooling air of death?

Well, It’s not there for nothing
It’s no accidental state
It’s a finely scripted plotline
To soothe and slake and sate

Help. They’re promising to fill me
With just as much as I can take
And I’m swinging against the lie-down urge
Trying, trying to stay awake
----------------

and now a happier one.

----------------

It slowly slows your thinking
Till thoughts like pinwheels spin
Then eyes long shut start blinking
And time funnels you in
And soft, in sleep, you’re sinking, all
Dividing lines grow thin
When chains just start unlinking
Who can say who you have been?

Reality the second, now
It’s lifetime number two:
You might be half Chihuahua
You might live in Peru
You might sing with the aardvarks
Or play with melted sands
Or write with clouds and daffodils
Or heal men with your hands

It’s not yet been determined
You can go there if you will
Where future’s all unwritten
And the past is dumb and still
It can be a smidgeon frightening
For the dream can set you free:
When eyelids droop from waking
You can’t know yet who you’ll be