“Space is big. Really big.”
When I started blogging here, one of the first bloggers I followed was Robin, of Witless Dating After Fifty. Over the years, she’s several times mentioned a great question her dad often posed when discussing religion with someone: “How big is your god?”
Last week my buddy and I were having our weekly beer- and gab-fest and our (typically very meandering) conversation came to touch on the problems with young Earth creationism — the Christian fundamentalist idea that the universe is only thousands of years old.
In fact, there’s a pair of real whopper problems involved!
It’s party time! Friday night, and everything’s right.
For your consideration, there’s celebration in the air (that’s no exaggeration). We’re talking ’bout elation; lookin’ for participation. Ya gotta feel the situation. Join with the recreation; enjoy the circulation (and the conversation).
Listen to that good vibration, trackin’ jubilation destination. Forget your reputation; forget your moderation; ain’t no humiliation (that’s a stipulation). There’s no registration, no identification authentication.
I’m sure it’s no revelation; fermentation fascination will bring inebriation (and hallucination). Hesitation just won’t do; you have an invitation! There is no limitation at this here presentation.
That was my narration; how ’bout a small ovation?