"There is no salvation for those outside the Church," Gibson replied. "I believe it."
"...Put it this way. My wife is a saint. She's a much better person than I am. Honestly. She's, like, Episcopalian, Church of England. She prays, she believes in God, she knows Jesus, she believes in that stuff. And it's just not fair if she doesn't make it, she's better than I am. But that is a pronouncement from the chair. I go with it.

I laughed when I read that. Balls to the wall, son. Balls to the wall.

Ophelia Benson has a mind of no distinction, and frets over the meaninglessness of life. I don't care. But it saddens me no end that although she can recreate the world, and more, that ability is not enough for Belle. It's not enough for Gibson either, though his martyrdom is metaphorical and hers may well be literal.

The only goal in life is to keep your mind flexible. Mechanical systems are closed; linguistic systems, except those made by hypocrites, are contradictory and open.

Still in a bad mood?
You betcha.

Maybe later: Durer vs Rembrandt at The ADAA art fair last week in NY.