Hume said that the problem with knowledge was that the principles used in establishing factual knowledge cannot establish themselves. The are no verifiable general statements and the basis of science is non-scientific. The basis of life is non life. As in if you took yourself apart atom by atom and left it in a pile there would be no living material there. This is too much. How are we supposed to deal with this when what is, isn't? So if swarms of cells have intelligence and purpose how far can we take this, does a swarm of atoms have purpose and intelligence out side of living (sort of) things? Is the universe, which is a mass of atoms, have purpose and intelligence? That would mean it all is intelligent design, or not?

Let's get serious here. There are overwhelming question to answer. The one I got yesterday from the sister was weather, whether consciousness is alive. According to Schrodinger they would be alive and not alive at the same time since we can't prove either. The quantum paradox. Nothing is anything until a scientist says it is.

So yesterday, my sister and I reverted to our true selves and coe- wrote those blogs. It was fun and quite a therapy session. We should have done it years ago. Now that all of that is off my mind I can think about more important things, or maybe less important things, who knows. Are social relationship more or less important than the search for Divine Reality?? This IS important though. Here goes. There is a rule in physics that says "anything that can happen without violating a conservation law DOES happen. It is now believed that particles can and do form spontaneously in empty space out of nothing!!! But, they disappear so quickly their existence cannot be demonstrated. These particles (actually pairs of particles) are known as virtual particles. Is God a virtual god? Is God a virtual particle?

IS YOUR LIFE OVER IF YOU DO NOT HAVE A DATE? Are we just useless appendages to nothing at all without the troubling presence of men on our arm? Are we Unitarian sisters?** Perhaps a better question is should we have become nuns?

There is a certain temptation, guided by the zealotry inherent in our genes -- inherited honestly from a line of ancestors who were ministers and saintly mothers. This temptation is to become a nun and work hard enough at it to become a saint, remembered for countless centuries only for our good acts and profound thoughts. This seems a better fate than sitting alone on a Saturday night, without a date, a fate worse than being burned at the stake before you became widely known for your saintly behavior. Everyone remembers Joan of Arc. Are these our two choices? Tied to a man, either a human one or a supernatural one?


**What do your get when you cross a Unitarian and a Jehovah witness? Some one who knocks on your door with nothing particular to say.

As our mother told us to always say positive things about people, we sat here in front of the computer in silence to meditate and try to identify something positive about the golden boy, as the gold was largely just cheap, tawdry costume jewelry.

He is out of our life. That is positive.
Or as Bette Davis said when told of Joan Crawford's death: "My mother always told me to only say good of the dead. Joan Crawford's dead. Good."

Erase, Erase. He's not really dead, just dead to us.

And another thing....

The really bad things that the golden boy did, however, occurred later when his incivility had reached the summit of perfection. He was aided in this pursuit by his wife, whose name is unutterable. She did love things, and that is a positive thing about her. She loved her hatreds. They were a perfect match. Their madness, cruelty, and insanity increased beyond measure when they found GOD!! That is when their behavior and beliefs became the golden mean, the standard, the measure against which they compared all others. We all failed miserably including our sainted mother whose worst fear was that none of he children would come to her funeral. THEY DIDNT SHOW UP. So, picture this, there is the coffin covered with flowers arranged by her grandchildren. There are the daughters, aunts, nephews, nieces,uncles, all sitting, weeping and waiting for them to appear. We knew who we were waiting for. Others were sitting there wondering why the funeral did not begin. They are lucky that I don't make the decisions about who rots in hell, because they would be first in line. Can't you see them wrapped in their piety, sitting in Hieronyemus Bosch's hell? It is ironic that they think they are the judges of peoples' worth and goodness.

Love, Annie and Katie

PLEASE READ AND POST YOUR OWN GOLDEN BOY STORIES, EVEN IF YOU ARE A GOLDEN BOY.

Once upon a time, not so very long time ago, in the desert of the southwest, there were 2 little girls who hated their brother. It was not that he was such a bad brother, mind you. He only rented out his Mickey Mouse Classic Comics, after spending hours telling his sisters about all the hidden treasures within--that they would never see unless they rented the comic; chased his sisters around saying he was going to drop a lizard down the back of our dress, held "stores" and sold all his toys, including his rubber Mickey Mouse and then stole them back ad nauseum, and then taunted us with the name Ms Perfectform when we began to develop. His other job was to be the golden boy who could do no harm and be loved and indulged despite the fact that he was incapable of loving back. Later on, he flunked out of college too. He partied all the time, never went to class, and got tickets for speeding all the time. The cops used to wait behind trees as he was so predictable. The sisters didn't get a bike at all-- because they were girls. He got a red Schwinn and lorded it over his very young sisters. We could go on, but the point here is this formed our ideas about males--ideas that later were borne out by solid evidence. We are now both single and bitter. They are all golden boys waiting to be indulged. We refuse to do that. Our refusal has shaped all our relationships, or lack of them.
Signed, The Unworthy Ones, Katie and Annie

"To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else." Emily Dickinson..... Like publishing in my blog. I am too distracted to think much less to write it down. I wrote a check for $24,400 when the bill was only $240! That is startling and a warning to stop the war that I am fighting with myself and sign a peace treaty or at least a cease fire.