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Ephesians 6:12

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places.

Ephesians 6:12

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places.

Good point!

Can you be too old to rock and roll?

Went through the Swindon roundabout in a taxi years ago.

Everybody here in Japan removes their shoes and uses slippers and that goes for guests , workman and whoever enters someone’s home .

Also change to slippers when entering a church. No shoes allowed in karate dojo.

Not as low.

https://jobs.cpi.org/

Goodbye, Pedo Joe
Though I never knew you at all
You had the grace to hold yourself
While those around you crawled
They crawled out of the woodwork
And they whispered into your brain
They set you on the treadmill
And they made you change your name

And it seems to me you lived your life
Like a candle in the wind
Never knowing who to cling to when the rain set in
And I would’ve liked to have known you
But I was just a dreg
Your candle burned out long before
Your legend ever did

Enjoy your trip.

You were thankful for the End times ping ...

End times = “Surely the Second Coming is at hand.”

Trying out your new random word generator, eh?

I’m not that talented.

“Descending into Chaos” = “Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold”

The only poem that ever interested me:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Second_Coming_(poem)

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

We need some riots NOW!

Ping!

What’s that to the left of the quarter? Some parmesan cheese?

Apart from an accepted moral standard there is only chaos left and anarchy rules.

Amen — that is where we are.

RIP.

Makes sense. I was reading it as something present day.