They Are Seven, and Twice Seven, and Seven Times Seven

[handful_ofdust]

...and yes, if I was loonier than a fruitloop, the mere fact of it being 7/7 today might seem like more than coincidence, given what I'm supposed to be working on. But no black angels needed to be involved here, just the usual all-too-human propensity to "prove points" by killing other people (especially ones not really involved in the "argument"). Bitter poison sent by the Gods indeed.

My general rationalist agreement with mightygodking's entry on today aside, though, I must admit that there's an attractively crazy sort of poetry in quotes like There is a soul of honor beneath the ribs of death. As opposed to the bleating of all those idiots currently calling the Mayor of London a red asshat just for not immediately calling for an anti-Muslim pogrom, that is.

Meanwhile, Cal keeps rocketing around the apartment, trying to play peekaboo with the bedclothes and/or eat his own highchair. I noticed yesterday that he's already got visible hair on his upper back, right between his shoulderblades: Says a lot for hsi testosterone level, I guess. My insane little dog-boy. Would it be truly sentimental to say he gives me hope?

Well, fuck it if it is; he does.