Hello, My Children. It is clearly time for another sermon from the Grand High Authority, the Illustrious and Munificent Sheperd of noders, the one and only, often duplicated but never medicated Space Pope of the puny hu-mons, me.

I have here a note from Cowboy Jesus. In his folksy cowboy scrawl, he notes that "The Injuns is restless" and that "we have to make the watering hole a'for sundown." Heady words my children.

What watering holes do you want to make it to a'for you see sunset? Cowboy Jesus would be all for scarletblood's list. It would appeal to his rugged, farmhand sensibilities. It has the air of a concrete thing that could be marked with checks, or have things crossed off in some sort of pen, or a line drawn in the sand. He has a similar daily "To Do list". It goes something like this...

"What I done and didn't did to-day"

1) Didn't kill me a man
2) Milked the cows
3) Lorded o'er the spiritual well-being of the totality of existence
4) bought a bag of nails

He keeps putting off that last one... Anyways! Kudos to scarletblood, an example to us all.

Sadly, now comes the time, my children, when we have to talk about the little calf that got tangled in the barbwire. cabin fever, OH! how we lament for you. Cowboy Jesus, he couldn't "cotton" to your list. He said "Thats the list of a sidewinder!" Let us think on these words, shall we?

What would Michel Foucault think of an anti-deterministic goal-less life? Would he say it exemplifies the madness that has been cast from society, losing its power to signify the limits of social order? Would he eat a brie sandwich at 3:00 am or did it give him heartburn? We may never know, as Foucault is dead, like Nietzsche before him, and yet, at the end of their lists, we know them.

Did they adhere to an amoeba's list?

Finish life. Die?

I, and Cowboy Jesus, would say no.

Think on this, my restless Injuns.