a

Apocalypse All in All:

THE LETTER A

Until the Arrival

An Authoritative Abstract

An Aesthetic Architecture Affixing an Agonistic Age

Anthology Assembled Approaching Accessibility and Appropriate

Apologia addressing all Apostles Acolytes Agnostics Atheists and any Anonymous Apostates Against Antichrist

Academic Accordance: Aiming also at an Anagogical Argument Affirmed: An Act at Advent Acknowledged

To guard against the scaffolding going up hereit is the healthiest, the most natural reflex one will protest: sometimes against these too-long citations that should have been cut; sometimes on the contrary (indeed at the same time) against these deductions, selections, sections, suspension points, suture points detachments. Detachments of the sign, of courseThat the sign is detached signifies that it is cut off from its place of emission or natural belonging; but the separation is never perfect. The bleeding detachment is alsorepetition delegation, mandate, delay, relay. Adherence. The detached remains glued thereby, by the glue of differance, by the a. The a of gl agglutinates the different detached pieces. The scaffolding of the A is gluey. So one will protest: you cut too much, you glue too much, you cite too much and too little. Jacques Derrida, Glas

And so is allowed in the A of Alpha Omega

For the Matriarchs and Patriarchs,

They who Worked in wood, Built bridges, Raised families, Taught me:

Thelma, Lola, Charlotte, John, Aaron, Burl and Bo

With Love, Michael Bolerjack

I do not know. One must believe. In these seven words, carefully chosen, we may think, a philosopher summed his creed, one who had done nothing but abuse truth his whole life, who had perverted the word in the interest of a purity of language, who had made destruction his own name, who had gloried in the self-destruction that he claimed all are prey to, this man, he said he prayed, said by command that one must believe, and admitted he knew nothing else. And like that thinker I cite carefully at the outset of this autobiography, memoirs of the blind, the words of a liar regarding faith. I never knew him, yet I believe. Frank Flowers came from a forgotten village in a forgotten state of a forgotten region of a forgotten country in a forgotten time, yet is unforgotten, and may yet be forgiven, and that, as much as we hate to admit it, does not depend on you or me, but solely on the grace of God, who has mercy on whom He will. Frank Flowers came from.

I do not mention his birth, but his manifestation. Perhaps he was unbegotten, just created, like a stone, like a tree, like a star, generated, but unregenerate, a product rather than a son. There was a time for tenderness, but now is the time for truth. To tell the truth, we are commanded. And to love. And I love Frank Flowers, though he lied to me every time I ever spoke with him, and was so lost in his lies and delusions that it is possible that he no longer knew he was lying. The enormity of his lie was so great and the bottomless abyss of his deceit so unfathomable that it causes me to shudder at the evil of a man without a truth. Yet he is only you and I written large. I once knew a teacher who confided to me that we are all hypocrites after all. Oh, how it pained me that confidence that included me in the great liars club. That same teacher took it as his creed, learned from modernism, learned from Joyce, that we cannot know another person. I think he would say that the truth itself is unknowable,

and there really is no truth. Now, thinking of Frank Flowers, I see his point. And if Frank Flowers is in all respects more like me than I am like God, which I think must be the case, that is a hard truth, but one I unhappily admit. Frank and I in solidarity? Yes, I believe. In human error, sin, pride, in all our mistakes, whatever he did, I did, too. If I claimed to have changed and repented, yet he did the same, said he was sorry, was changed, was repentant, spoke the truth, had faith, really loved those whom he loved, prayed to saints, had devotion, all the things necessary for salvation. If I doubted him, it was probably more to my discredit. If I would speak of the mistake of Frank Flowers, as he called it, these things you must know. You must know, and yet still believe. It is sometimes harder to believe despite knowing the truth, than to believe having never known. That same teacher who confided to me my complicity in his own hypocrisy believed we are all doomed to live in an

indefinite middle, not knowing the beginning or ending of the story, let alone the epilogue that gives the reasons for the way things happened as they did. And again, as painful as it is, I agree with him, when I think of Frank. I sojourned with him in an indefinite middle, seemingly endless, till death came, which did not explain anything, but broke his life like an irremediable fragment. There is much lost in the way sometimes a life is badly written. And there was much about the man I did not know, or only heard from him, tales he told about himself. If I seem trapped in a circuit of the indefinite and indefinable, it is not so remarkable. It is the condition of our time. Once I would say it is something I did in another life. But I did the very thing he did in this life, made the very same mistake he did, and I too lived to tell the tale, and perhaps in the same way offer excuses. I think one is love. Another is we could not help ourselves, that we had no brakes. If

Frank Flowers and I both never yet knowing the other existed committed adultery in the same city at the same time thirty years ago, it was more than synchronicity, it is the human condition. That men lie, men betray, and later join or return to the church, return to their wives, if they will have them, that men are no damn good, and that women suffer us, with us, even as they assist us in our betrayals, is the truth, a truth for all time, more apparent to me now than ever, at the end of the age.

Him he man to come her let it be let her be M marry Maria Miriam IC immaculate conception, LJC Lord Jesus Christ to heal, Mary and the Lord of heaven healed me in order to be more like the man I will be: Michael, who is like God? Halo, Cecelia, in cielo, hello, Catherine, in oratio, Bo, my father, laborer, MB, me and my wife, Marinela Berenice, ae/ea absolute exteriority, eternal absolute, twice, Emily Abbott, teacher, LC, twice, Linda Curcio, Linda Carson, amor, amor, Jack: JFK and Jackie, and my uncle, not Brad Pitts more intelligent one, and Jackie, Jacques Derrida, with whom I shared a year of conversion, 1989, better, miter, bob, been, bibles, biblical, biblio, book, look, all in all, mile, space and miles davis, anon, retch, rot, era, time, of JC, eon, reconciliation, Jacob and Benjamin, AO, Leah, Rachel, barren but mother, Joe, Joseph, trial, tribe, Cha: Charlotte, ma, mom, Cleo, sister Charlie, EL, the Father, elle, she, el, the, coal, canon, la, le, the Katherine, Bamba, ja, yes, Karen, Katrina, ich, I, like,

Ike, booth, ole! Babe ruth, trite, bole, tree trunk, me, bee, cole slaw, favorite dish, knell, Nela, Neil, kneel, jail, twice, , tot, lobo, wolf, eliminationism, jack off, lear, king, leer, tare, alto, real to reel, tictac-toe, ack, acknowledge, of him is the key to, call him or her, hello, hear I can, notation, hale, I am in heart, ill, heat, heater, abet Bill, martini, bar, cat kill, no, I shall not, chill, coke, coat, nam but Jill, her friend, one or two, ale, Thea, aletheia, truth, lame, lime, email, camel, Emilia, name, table, bolero, music, rank, crank, reach, exceed, aim, high, take, ham, meat, in Egypt, camera, ankle, bomb, Iran, Tehran, conceal, rile, tile, Nile, in which we would have played, neat, choler, irascible me, angry, cholera, Tamara, ram, Re, backwards, enter, oleo Sonny, moat, mote, note, boll, cotton, chimera, boler, she called me, bowling, Lamia, game of jacks, job, employment, un-, Job, my forefather, cake, cement, leach, rake, take, taken, took, Clementine I prayed for you in late lament, how we

pulled the blast hose up to the sun in Louisiana, larch, a tree on the tele, lark, Karl, rahner, barth, you can call me RJ, joke, beat meat, cheater, choke, bloke, block, Tabor, ECCE HOMO, behold the man, title name, check, doublechecker, rear, tarot, horo-, numbers, clear, mine, chin, hike, chim chim cheree, first movie I saw at a theater, chink, clink, Chinese, Checkers, Rothko, cheer, harlot, north, throne, role, catholic, lateran, karol, bore, rehab, Celan, cellar, cha cha cha, , Latinas, cannon, Tito, canonical, non-, ache, Rahab, the mystery, cream, jell, Nathaniel, crack, matins, Esther, I am, me, I am that I am, I like it like that, rat, anti, ante, Micha Prophet, and one atomic Caroline and the nuclear Carmen, to heart, mold, told, tell it like mack, the knife, boob, macho, Bill, Monica, Mac, Paul Mccartney, MacNamara, John, Lennon, make, mame, mane, manna, lack, haint, ghost dance, jack, hint, chair, chain, cheat, team, Kim, Bea, Beth, hey Ben where you been? Beatrice,

Mick, jagger, & Keith, jar, raja, kama, sutra, ajar, toke, joint, ramble on, jerk, terminal, jell-o, mace, Irene, aunt, cello, Bach, earthmen, Charlotte, recite, remit, chore, manic, anticatamite, core, mania, Narnia, antithetic, roar, tar, tarn, terminate, lore, lorn, lone, hacker, loren, Sophia! Con-at-mi-nate, lamb, mantle, mantic, atlantic, leo, Attila, hare, near, tear, and tear, beatle hair, east timor, reet, treat, trick, care, carrot, cake, M Monroe, air, mite, nite, loam, no more to roam, no more to Rome, comb, lend me, tomb, to moral beauty, tombeau, jam, tame, knee joint, jab, enjambment, till, oil, boil, lima, learnt, meal, toil, coil, rim, niche, nice, eine, rima terza, rhyme, richer ream, of paper, mare, arab, arable realm, notre mater, aimee, milk, jack Elam, Uncle Jack, MLK, Dr. King, BB King, moab, horeb, canaan, Kahn, rock, roll, knoll, lemonlate, mate, TATE, he, think to thank, lock, clock, chocolate, three, nine, ten, net, tent, meet, ie, in other words, AJ Foyt, JR in Korea, OJ, juice, cheek, heck, hecho, echo,

ball, Hector, lector, rector, bail, twice, liter, bale, birth, cotton, earth, JOEL, EL, touched by God, Ave Maria said, lace, race, rant, janitor, Janice that little girl so long ago, lithe, lathe, Eli, lie, bi-, hi, tell, Aion, age, liar, lair, lion, alone, tiara, hell, tire, mire, hire, etcetera, eloi, eloi, lama sabachtani, llama, orbit, obit, abortion, Jim, all those silly jim jims, James Joyce, JOHN JOHN JOHN, call him Baptist, call him Vetrano, Junior, my genius friend who called Luther the dulcimer player, and Jomo, and chalk, halt, halter, thrall, Jimmy memmormee! Ake, ha, their, there, error, err, the word Ultrastructure occurs between ulcer, the first UL, which he died of and Ulysses, the last UL, ir-, race, it, tall, talk, ton, ora et labora, ace, no there there, canal, acer, acre, little, ohm, Mann, bottom, and his dream, item, Okie, ol, blue eyes, lo, j, on, acne chanel, ole south, male, moth, month, botheration, to boot, mail, e, nail, lain, tail, tale, mill, clank, link, bank, klan, ail, hammer, neck, ot, patria, are, mama, memoir, nt, new mink, bel

furnished by Daniel, been bell, if I were a, bin, brine, elba, elbo, earl Campbell, duke of, nibble, erj, urge, cherl, mom, tinker, itch, chit-chat, rib, trim, Mike bike, Keith cuisine, Brian brain, brat, broth, robot lobe, left temporal religion, ee, Braille, bet, brett, broil, coil, recoil, thee, mal, bake, recon, nation, rational, cook, coon, Ken, kenning, coloration, cock, cranial, rack, main, Matt, thane, ah, rent, cent, bent, mama mia, thin, then, ooh, la, la, chia, first fiction, in, blear, lean, mean, clean, clare, black is black, in black, bleach, teach, teat, think, no, aja, lana, backlit, knit, cite, citation, clarkent, bam, born, borne, bone, te, bama, state of, le, Vietnamese friends, and a priest a world away, mob, mock, knock, cretan, certain, hole, elohim, aloha obama, jc, Johnny cash, crater slain, john Coltrane, clerk, cleric, ice, icicle, ice ice, not nice, circle, time, all eternal, rialto, rice miller, tiller, create, ear, hooker, in a bar, loon, car, what car, silk, Lolita, hall, alert, in here, jeer, boo, hoo, career, what career, eliot, I be he or thee, ella,

fitzgerald, billie holiday, meet, abel able, cain, noah, all. Jacob, Leah, Rachel. All the names in the book. Mobile, labile, tome, to me, label mabel, lane, ATT, moon, oat, IBM, bile, rhine, necker, beckon, amble, becker, Joel, amiable, orion, ion, marble, booker t, miracle, can it be, bacon, bilk, hoot, mirable, reckon, knock claim, ich bin ein Berliner, balm, meant, metabolic, alcoholic, calm, clam, time, heather, either, beau, clamor, climber, let, elm, meta-, merle, liable, merci, alice, elan, michelle, ma belle, ore, oar, or not, knob, loll, tain, taint, aint, rioter, Tom, bon mot, tone, tonic, roach coach, tablet, tab, boa, boar, boat, moan mona, anne, rob, teal, mortar, tremble, roller, tina, rain, collar, cant, kant, nare, talar, sailor, non-com, thimble, nimble, nameable, eaactticiptwttatptaasthpkf-saasaptttgttvtsyttmsttmmtcslea, each act it IC part will TT airtight authors proof stat, HPKF (go figure), asap, TT, target, terminal velocity, sty, TT, manuscript, comes the hard part, Therese and

Teresa and Tommy Merton, tierce, seal till countermanded, or steal c, or cleats, that is to say, ttmmtcslea, the end of the fifty-six, which is proof of the one mind seen, go figure, Hans Kung Pope Following or what, Je suis Joan transformed, trick, track, rank, hill, kin, kink, hick, hank, Ilion, cookie, reek, reck his rod, roe, rael, brie, brae, sue, Susan who got away, sun, cid, machine, Milton, initiation, neo-, imitation, knockednoon, raceme lights sure, balk, belo, bane, banns, belt, bolt, errata, erotic, meteoric, mai tai, cell, theater, ate, tea, tao, kale, cale, herb, belch, melt, mel, Helen, helene, Hecate, jammer, ramone, truck, than, car, what car, cram, lab, tool, bitch, mitch, crab, near, hell, baal, belial, hate, horror, the catechetical in me let them be, call me moral, but call me, more romantical, click, clack, tort, epic, heroic, cape cod, retort, thrillaholic, bear, bare, reborn, briar, batch, becky be brim, catch snatch, break, the breakable, breach, action, terminate, lamentation,

actor, ink, inc, bait, latte, mooche, jake, bite, bit, rein, bare, cairo, there we swim again, ra, thoth, arrear, that hath both, at once, crime cannot, boor with it, mime the time, robed in it, alarm, mall train, Macbeth, Marlboro, cancer, hamlet to a t, ark to moriah, Abraham, hark, learnearn, theme, arthearts, Maria sing, inscape, Elijah, karma, chameleon, JAH, breath, breathe, harem in homer, Ari a brick, nick, knack, brake, brace, creator, tore, bric-abrac, alone to alone, crib, bonnie holm, hoe, hone, horn, hornet, hoar, ho, hot, not, knot, here, Habakkuk, them, men, entire, amen, Jeremiah, cinch, inch, blame name, keel kells, kinch clinch, chime chiro, charm call am clint, roam, rome, or home, to the one Id rather come, Come? Came. Cool. Richer am I, for the One to be, memoreme, to another Carolina, as she may be, and a smaller Oklahoma, of a family.

Interrupting the magicmania interpreting the texts, Mann was I convened, God was the one who stopped, full stop, stopped me on the way, way to back in black highway to hell tao, ching ching, wit a parser, but at the moment of destruction, not eve, or eve of, even I prayed, it must have been ordained, for I knew not what I did, hazed, out of my guard, walled in by sin, a has been, destroyed by unholy trinities like sin and syn and cyn, and the hi digger derriere and the anti-christ, at any rate, the theory and practice of literature, the pat plot, the totem of taboo, the dont go back to Rockville, the wolf, yet he would survive, living on, by the life of Him who dies for me, but let me, let me begin again, in a place Ive never been, except as a child, when mommy had a knife, you know, a big one, and I ran and prayed, how many times my father saved me I know not. I loved him to the end. I have seen death in mens eyes, awful thing, total darkness, absence of light, life, in Bo and Bill, the last he was waving,

calling for help, drowning, but I thought he was saying hello, just like little Stevie, goodbye old men, death in their eyes. But life, what is life? The fold of. We are caught in the wrinkles of life and happy the man for whom it does not but comes unfolding, our founding on a sound, in this we lose ourselves, forget how. I am in the bits and pieces, pierced, unparsed, pursued by hounds of heaven and hell, on the run, somewhere, she wants to go somewhere and do something, and in a dream last night the desk had grown to fill a house Ive never lived in and I was small, like I am today.my first dream of her, the girl in my pocket, just that size, and every woman in the world to me, river ran not past Eva and Adolph, but down stream all the assets sold, the big One you know, keeping nothing back, not even me, to be for Him and Her, not them. It is never us and them, but me and Him, I retch, he reach, I speak, He spoken always, and me spoken through and through the all in all, todo in todo, my totem, kent

emblem, sigh of a sign, of the last salt, atlas, at last, sans salsa, rise sire, in act, this world speaks. Bo is in it, are you? To not be hermetic, the rearranged type always gets even more intense, and the one mind more evident. Too much of magic. Let it be. Words of wisdom. She. Not phantasm. She was not sinful. She mother, mothering me, the other, oh, but to smother, frayed to say, bitter about her own, I hardly knew her, distant and old, though she could cook, all the women in my family, both sides, how they could cook, in that town not Marian. Aaron, whom I let down with my will to power, on principle did not attend the service because he was a southerner who believed in civil rights, before the 1960s. Oh dado, they call fingers and toes and count up to twenty, bases of ten, base too, on and off and one and zero, plus, minus, binary oppositions like men and women that are irreducible, and good and evil, which must be reduced, or we all are lost. Forget them not, think of Him. Jack said I am dead,

some poor poet from the streets of Baltimore, not lost on happiness but on a girl, bright lights, big city, Babble on, fallen, sin equity, long ago in America, not Marian. She was a child. He married her in Virginia, when he heard a voice tell him she was the one he would marry. Father they did not know, and I too smashed the tao and sharded myself, without relief of shriven, in sin, guilty was I in Marion, not yet Marian. I had been to Oklahoma, but never to Spain, and I knew I would marry a girl from Mexico, or become a priest. Thank God for Marinela. We reverse, we verse in ways of ancients, the totems, I could not keep a dollar past sunset, always living in a hole somewhere, never even knew a schoolgirl, but ever I thought of happiness, praising God, then came you. In delight I lost, but in surrender I found. Not long now. Find a deeper place to dig, a more somber muse for sorrow singing, Marian, is she, are we, in the snow, the appointed circus of Circe when she was in town. Dont delay Bob,

you know that feeling, it is your cognitive functioning.

Tell all the truth, but tell it slantwise, Emily, like Beatrice, in a sideways glance, she galvanized me, or so it seemed to me, in pyre technique. O Mother. I burned, not lustral, not my purification, and I gave them beauty. Once I said my lady of the falls and that was my life, not Marian. In the sin of bondage and lordship, not The Lord, of ligatures and literature, and I jumped into the abyss. And on my way, full of sin and syn and cyn, and cid, He called, even She, and I said its all true, its all true. Our Lady of Sorrows, September 15, 1989. My memory had been full of magic, and imagination running wild, sins signs, the dark death of synaesthesia, me para-, me be die the still waters, never again to die the ching, trial upon trial, lost though I though I was searching, failing fell, and I on last legs of glassy glossy gals glas, it knelled, but I kneeled, in Marian. Teel all, bit teel it late,

slate, last lament, learnt, O Emma. Emilia, aimed high your throne, burn the fire darkness, my tomb, Joan you were, raving virgin, sheets, white blanks, all, awakened to work she goes again, my bridle, holy name of Jesus, o Gloria, womb of light, mother of glory, not glaze nor glare, is, I am not, in parser he took me amid the light at midnight while fathers and sisters prayed, and he took me, things to come I would have said, losing faith and finding it again, for rocky soil, for saul and rocky, for carry me carty and the dream I had when I reached you, just before apocalypse, and His white horse, I could not bear, and now look for ward to, not the pale horse death rides, daddy died at midnight too, like Igitur, therefore, a little after, on an annular of great fire, a day or two he took, and breathing slower, passed, say his name and do it slow, for BO, so to be an arrow for him, looking neither east nor west, nor too southern exposure, but north, forever north, the future is forever, found not the death knell, gently then, last days of the dead.

For a final glance of glory, the vintage where he is stored, I could not again, they took the wine from me, kept me from the blood. They saved the good wine until now, it was said at Cana, but that is all gone. Epithelia of Amelia, what was your name that the others said, she a sister of the sintered, she the eternal absolute, she the absolute exteriority, she abbot of my monk life to come, she extra exterior to me but in eternity forever, Absolute, symbol of a wine to come. Near the start of my calamity. The fall I would feel, keel harbor broke, I wrote the summer of my downfall, you cannot love until your heart is broken. Break and break again. I live open, being broken. In an abyss I was, in a mirror, an echo, in the spectral, not flase, but not all, for there are two sides to the coin, icon, psyche and spirit, the psychological and spiritual, and benedict and freud stand on either end and cannot see the whole, which is one, which averroes of all perhaps saw best in AI, prescient of today. The emsemble in

which I write, the heaven, the immortals, saints and angels, the Spirit, the secret indications of the ideal I first became aware of as such in 1989, but which I interpreted both ways at once, contradiction, opposed, not as one, and so split in two. The theological view said the devil, the psychological said madness, but it was neither, just the powerful overflow of reality, a kind of psychic ability, which my mother too had known, as my father testified later. It is almost too much to bear, as the coin, icon, flips, to hold it as one, to view life steadily as a whole Conrad said, is the hardest thing, and required something from me that nearly killed me, to make me who I am. This does not say there is not sin, or evil, or paranoid killers, and all that goes with evil and madness, but these are somehow the poor reception on the part of the receivers, and everything is received according to the mode of the receiver. For a better world, improve your reception. Neither deception nor inception nor conception. Let your

reception be as is said in Psalm 95, if today you hear His voice harden not your hearts. There are many calling in the intense traffic, and to discern? It is a mystical world, not anything else, to me. The way to know the truth, which is mystical, for me, is ceaseless prayer. Read all you can, but follow your own calling. I do not think I pray like anyone else, but how could I know? Everything else is text.

Alarma marla, free to be you and me, slam glam, knell maryknoll, my hill she may be to calvary or cavalry, no way to pay, he bought me, brought me, owns me, price pure blood, the bishop dais the power his flesh it hath the power to expel and well and right he was amid is, is He is, was not were and for river he may say I AM, but not yet, but not to sorrow, yet not that thou art, art in heaven, but knot the net of AC, the power he did not spill or spoil, and if closure fails, Christ will gather us in, as told. Meanwhile, they tell the bell tolled.

Glossary of a benediction, not glossolalia, but with petrification the blessing turned to stone, as Clean as Celan did prophesy, dj, tolled, Disgrace, plutonic, dark the abyss of the hiss of Sybil, and scilliant leaves left me cold, inessential, he interdicted when he should have benedicted, intent but to harm, but there will be balm to heal. Stella mara, not para, no Kora, no hell, but Mare, marry her if you will, a grace more Marian, she did seal. Tierce. Till countermanded. And I never worked a day in my life, but to load sand in empires of sightless eyes, for the force of law, when the mystical foundation of authority is faith, and the only sin is bad reading, and the pope thinks he can read the signs of the times, would somebody please tell him time is UP. O the woe of men who lay the soul of scripture in the hands of harm. In that way I was saved, though they knew not what they did for me and those to come. They did sell. They did depth me, they did not, and wrong I was, yet came to the point of departure, and

found not that I was ready for the truth, but having been broken, was ready for the really Real. O Mother, she does now in darkness of faith to late in the light of the one to come, apocalyptic, they now in the displacement of a place I was to the nothing I become for Him, not them, neither of us, but did steel the stele, out of love and for the momentum of the stolen sea, felt at the fate of a man, my event, disclosure, my proven, my tearing of the veil, saves me yet, yes your salvation in the thronedom, damned and slain, like a lamb, I come to the place of my fortification, not falsely but fastly and true, to get over it, almost.

X marks the spot, to the missions, to the world, to antichrist and Christ to come, be not angry, brothers and sisters, for apocalypse too means transformation, as promised by prophets, if not by popes, who sell you religion to keep you from God, yet. Deconstruction told the AC in the always already, the complication,

implication, explication, but dj, it did two things at once, as said, and while seeming to destroy the world, did so to save it, from the church, which ever postured at the world, inviting and scolding, all the time deconsecrating, because of judgment, which should be His, not theirs, which is only in the hands of Christ not the opposite of love. Every critic passes judgment, but Christ did not come to criticize and complain, even though the writers of the gospel sometimes place such things on his lips. He was love, and still is. He loves us still. There is joy in heaven over those who repent. Is there anyone who does not need to? All have sinned, all fallen short, so that all may be saved. Deconstruction tore down the very criteria of judgment. There is no basis for the interdiction to stand. There is no longer any place or site secure from which to condemn the neighbor. It is in effect the generalization not only of the text but of scripture, all is orcular, everything speaks freely and that means love not judgment.

Eventually. Now we are passing through the penultimate phase of high opinion. Of every man and woman their own pontification. It must drive beenecrits mad. When every one has had their say, love will reign, peace supreme, the logomachy, over, and hopefully not worse, in signs the end, not a physical doomsday, but a symbolic one, and spiritual, psychological, ideal, for the mind is the battleground, the place of Armageddon, not the valley by Jerusalem, though I do not know what Israel, Iran and China will do, but for now at least, it comes down to, in the Catholic Church, the emendation of a text by which the people worship. If they repeat the words of sad benediction, they do not have the Mind of Christ, but that of another. The thing that matters in the continuum of the one mind is the Mind of Christ. It has been in the world and in the church in isolated ways, circumscribed as it were, but is now breaking through. It will burn up all error. Be not conformed to

benedict, but be transformed by the renewal of your minds. So that you may discern what is perfect and pleasing to God. It is not so much in the Buddhist sense about clear consciousness, and removing the dust from the mirror, though that is healthy psychology, nor even about a clean conscience, though that is necessary, but a connectivity to the One who is or which is, seen is different ways, interpreted in different ways, worshipped in different ways, but abides. As God, the One is in no better place than your mind. This is the place of the apocalypse. The deconstruction did not take place so that happily there could be a reconstruction. God will be with the people and personally instruct them. This is mysticism. It is not about me, my money, my vote, my car, or even my ideas and my opinions. They are worse than useless. As events we come and as events we go, we are not permanent. I must decrease and He must increase. Everyone wants to go to

heaven, but nobody wants to die. If we do not have heaven on earth, we may have hell on earth, and some people are already living it, too many. It is like nazi germany in a way, as more and more are taken away, yet the few who remain feel safe, glad still to be. But if it is not stopped, the whole will perish. That is the apocalypse. It has been said, the path to peace is to serve. But who or what are we to serve? Even Nazis served. I might say, truth, but you may say whose? I might say, love, and you would say, we do. I might say faith or hope or other virtues, but yes, they are had, in great abundance. What is the one thing necessary that Christ spoke of, that Martha had not but that Mary had, that which would not be taken from her?

Quite, the quiet, except for the singing, Marcella and Montserrat, and the little one with the big eyes, blanca pagina, littera, O, Thom, yr Summa Invicta, and St. Saba, and no wiser one than one who knows

from experience, he knelt to tell the knell, a Marian, no loss Angeles, no sintering in, no jack to tack, to cake to take to jake, no more melees, no more to go, lido, just these mothered, worded, scripted, said, to a place I knew so long, O thom, how did you dial it, the tock, the tick, what was the trick of summation? Theo logic. Is God that logical? His thought so high above, not like this below, he rises sure sire, but perhaps you rose to Him, not on your own, but wafted now on wings of prayer, driven by mentality, then the blow, and more you knew you did not know. Saba, in his desert kept quiet, almost like Marcella in the plural, and the white blanks sang, too, to Marian time. Sandals on their feet, climb to Him. Arm long, lean, and sing. Just a white blank, almost nothing of a page, her pale blue eyes of longing for someone I was not, so I read my way through Hell and Purgatory and paradise, and found Him again. Him alone I find when I am alone, but I am never alone, anymore, and heaven is my witness.

The Teresas could say, and did, they pray and pray, and immortal saints shower roses on mortals, but my immortal sole, sandalless, sundialed, gnomoned, scandalous, pointing up, look to them for consolation and find. They fail not nor falter, like the tree outside my window, which never drops a leaf, neither withers nor fades, an emblem of the ensemble, as I pray wise Saba, and kneel to the knell, and with blancas free to sing, to be, free, here, now, in a church, somewhere, on the feast of the Virgin, all pure, holy, undefiled, remain, without stain, art heart, ark mark of salvation in the crossing to the big and wide Rio Bravo, the Grande, the way south, I must run, must run, to the tide, very the flood of immigration and find the Marcellas. They wait for something like her who wants something, somewhere. But what? Where? Without news from Newport, without a trace they came and went, leaving little left to find, trackless, familiar, to Oklahoma I ride, to the

church I entered as a child, dark, candle-lit, holy, I did not intrude, O to still be there, on the threshold, it was 1965 and there was still time, to seek and find, but he found me elsewhere. With the Virgin, when I first heard a catholic prayer. I write to Her and Gloria and Him. I was always on the margins, still am dont you know, the attraction of Writing told me so, the trace, the trance, the differences, the space, but now life and never falling, though slip slide, not away, catch me Christ, hold me Mother,. Saba think, Marcella, Blanca, Montserrat, think, standing forever in Her place, never to turn away, and seeing and singing you. If I wonder. Yes yet, you, to wonder. Not to trace or trance but embrace back to Him. Return farther. Return to the Father. He sees us through and through, through wisdom, through blood and water, through pain and love and our desire, through our eyes He sees the world, as we look on each other, not yet finding Him. And even the plot, for every tragedy

has a plot, the key to it said Aristotle, and the theory and practice of literature, and sin and syn and cyn, to heal, not to judge. All the difference in the world could not stop Him, on He came on His white horse, to ride the apoctaless waves of the elliptical ecliptical, unveiling, He could not but arrive. They His enemies did but derive, and drew from a stream no longer fed by living waters, for now He falls from the sky, as He said, my Father makes the rain to fall on everybody, so Be Perfect. One must either teach or one must learn, to do neither is madness. If they turn, they too will know, what appropriation was a distant figure of, and Marcellas, Blancas, Montserrats, you too will know.

The places we begin and end and all the crazy spaces in between are no match for you my child of time, daughter of the eternal prime, hold no sorrow too dear, hear what I spell, and speak into your ear, for you I came and come again, always

coming back to you, I cannot say a Bodhisatva, I cannot say a saint, but a man in love with a woman, and in you or with you find our steep ascent to grace and light, with salt for the way and cool pure waters beside, kisses, hands, gentle feel, O, Marinela in my soul, woman of my imagination, God helps me to see you, to believe, in love that remains. For the sake of grace and the others and the Mother of us all, Mary, so she would delight in our delight, we are one for Her and for Him. So sing, once again, our song, lets stay together, here awhile. It has been said the unsaid is the most important thing in any discourse, and the wake has not yet been fully read, and cannot be, and yes some things are better left unsaid, for other reasons, yet let me and I will tell you everything I know, just start me up and love supreme the sure raceme and the speed of falling in love our hymn. They say we must ask why there is anything at all, why not nothing? For love, so that there can be love. But in reasoning sublime

philosophers tell of every tolling, but not the ringing of the wedding bells, and our apocalypse, is not the death knell, but wedding bells, for the marriage we have learned to love. If I tell you once again, I love you, even though youve heard it before, yet it is still, sometimes, new, and still, sometimes, welcome, when I have not been away too long, when I have not strayed in feeling from you as I unfortunately sometimes do, despite all I know and hold dear, about you and our religion, which is simply Jesus and Mary. They say there is only one love. I feel it is true. Let us not quibble over shades or degrees. Love is direct, simple, passionate, graceful, honest, even in our complex situation and time, and when asked I answered, the only word that mattered at that moment: Yes. The same word with which Ulysses ends. Just like in the movies, I did not say it to myself, sitting up in bed late one night, long after you had gone, and I had missed my chance. No. there was one unique

unrepeatable moment for the yes I said to you. In thanksgiving for the sight of you, the sound of you, the smell of you, the way of you, the telling of you, you must know, yes, and your song must be sung, under stars, in clear hearing, Marinela, my sentimental sentinel, in your relativity and absolution, I sing you.

If we would come to the understanding of Stephen and Bloom in the Odyssey of all of that which is, then we must think not cognitively, but substantially, as Joyce said, and perhaps even to think through what the scholastic term transubstantiation means when taken from a restricted to a general economy, for that is what has happened to the world and will happen to the church, if it does not deconsecrate first, but if in it a remnant remains, as promised by God. These would be men and women at all levels of the church who have not knelt to baal. I believe they exist, in America, in Rome, and

elsewhere. The catholic economy I once wrote four hundred and sixty pages of unpublished notes to argue for, while said in the context of the papacy of benedict, which I had not become aware of at that time in the same way I am aware of it today, still envisioned a general catholicity. All this pope has sought to do is restrict it. He has imposed a closure on the church, or is attempting to do so. It may be as with the classical philosophical closure, every possible concept and position has already taken place. But outside the framework of the churchs thinking there are ideas such as Freedom and Democracy. They are not unknown to the members. They are just not the official thinking. In the seminary, there is no premium on original thought, breaking new ground, or creativity. One simply repeats the past, as in the third encyclical of the pope now enthroned, who quoted the Magisterium over and over and over. This defensiveness is killing the church. Where Blessed

John XXIII would have an opening, there is closure. One must ask, why? Is it to protect the power and wealth of a few? It has been told me by a priest, that when the Vatican bank was hurt in the Italian baking scandal, Opus Dei stepped in, with deep pockets, and bought the whole she-bang, sitting on the board of directors, calling the shots. What else do they decide? Is it about more than money and power? Is there an agenda of a spiritual nature? If so, what? We know there is to be an anti-christ at the end of things, and as I have shown elsewhere, the evidence points to Rome. It is perhaps too complacent of catholics to look at only money and power as factors, though these are evil enough in themselves. The church must immediately put into practice what the world knows, without fear, or the church, and perhaps the world too, will perish. The spiritual world is real and spiritual laws are real. What happens to Rome and the church matters to everyone. For the transubstantiation of the

church as a whole to take place, the merely human understanding must be replaced by the Mind of Christ. If you speak to Him, seek Him, He will answer. The answer may not be what you want to hear, but it will be for your good. All power to judge by those with that power in the church, which they abrogated and usurped, must be set aside, renounced, forever. The complex legal apparatus of canon law which John Paul II revised in 1983 must be abolished. It is not Christian. Proof of this is on the last pages of it, where minute provision was made for the transferring of parish priests. Why was this done? Did they foresee a problem, the sex scandal? If so, why not stop the abuse, instead of making it easier to hide it? To me, this points again to more than just money and power-politics, more than everyday corruption, but the aim of the deconsecration of the church. It is almost unthinkable, but we are witnessing it. Some people put things ahead of God in

their lives, family or country, or their church. It sounds strange to say the church would put itself ahead of Christ, but such is the case. Despite the insular position of the pope, force can be brought to bear, by those both within and outside the church. So far Rome has exploited its legal advantage of sovereign nation status. However, this was a treaty signed by Mussolini which should be renounced as void and not be honored by any nation who opposed fascist Italy in World War II, including all of the Allies, the United States, England, and France at the head of the list. Within the church, pastors need not be afraid for their careers, but think of Judgment Day and the meeting we all have as Christians with Jesus. That goes for all catholics. Support for the American nuns is the first order of the day. Boycotting mass, suspension of tithes, and speaking out are also advised. The people of Germany stood by, but catholics know too much of the meaning of the gospel, I hope, to let their

church fail. The movement for a new council must be started, to be presented in Rome, first to the benedict, then to his successor.