Perhaps many of you have a million friends to talk to when something comes along that may end your life. Perhaps some of you only feel comfortable to express ideas here. Why would anyone try to prevent what little comfort that could be gained by ending this discussion. These discussions and others like them sometime produce music. Some have no ability to hear it.

The lamppost stands with folded arms
Its iron claws attached
To curbs 'neath holes where babies wail
Though it shadows metal badge
All and all can only fall
With a crashing but meaningless blow
No sound ever comes from the Gates of Eden

“Amazing! I’ll be working with Jaco Pastorius, Charlie Parker, Art Tatum, and Buddy Rich, and you’re telling me it’s not that great of a gig?
“Well…” Saint Peter, hesitated, “God’s got this girlfriend who thinks she can sing…”