OLD WELLS ROAD

A MIRACLE

I don't know about God. I did read the Bible cover to cover decades ago when I first began this knowledge journey but then I also read parts of the Koran, hefty amounts of Greek and Egyptian mythology, some Hebrew God stuff, lots of Far East Buddha et al and even Hubbard's Dianetics.

A God though? A God? I was quite sure my idea of God was a good one in terms of life-lessons and hopefull mechanisms mixed with some few dire warnings should one's life go astray: Stay good and kind, don't do bad shit and you'll be fine, pretty much. Its Cathedrals and Temples and Mosques and Pagodas and Pantheons and the resplendent self-appointed servants mouthing off about salvation however- "Repent! Repent! The End is nigh!" always creeped me out.

Sometimes I spoke to God. Like all people of dubious faith I turned to him during moments of desperate need and offered up entreaties: "Please, God." "Please!" Other times though I shook fists and once or twice spat on the reasoning- "Who the fuck calls themselves a God and then rains fire down on children? On children! That's no God of Mercy that's plain fucking cruel!"

As to miracles? Ha! Smoke and mirrors. Some metaphorical paraphernalia mixed in. No decent God would do something good and then turn around and harm an innocent, besides, the stories about him only taking the best- he should leave the best right here to sort out the messes the rest of us make if indeed he is benevolent!

The idea though of "something", a Greater Being, an Overseer- how often these many months have we discussed this theme the boys and me. One of us usually starts: "There's gotta be something out there..."

"What if there is no out there? What if this, all around us, is all there is? Like some Truman Show knock-off." Me firmly within my terror.

"The Earth is flat mon!" This from Jimmy decked out in Marley harem pants.

"I think I learned- oh yeah, something about them being too far away for us to "detect" their movement-"

"Detect my ass! We're supposed to be spinning meanwhile!"

"About that- why don't I step off here and put my foot down in New Zealand? If we're spinning so fast-"

"Jimmy!"

Usually Dyls opts out about now, leaving me and his cousin to argue it out. When James becomes Jimmy the clown he's had far too much weed. Besides, weed has the opposite effect on Dylan, he tends to jump on his phone and read off "news". Not normal people news, not my kid. We get (in-between whatever each of us is doing privately) sidetracked into discussions about this or that; usually some freedom gone or new code of conduct introduced to further silence or disappear the internet. He's been in mourning days now since Linus left Linux and thus rang the death-knell for his beloved Open Source. (I won't get into our views about the SJWs and their communal disruption of just about everything"normal".) 

"Mum, did you know... blah blah blah... the Earth is... blah blah blah... and that would explain why they are hiding it, right?"

"Maybe..."

Yeah. I cannot answer with anything concrete or offer up comment with any real certainty. The notion of such a domed world is not comfortable. More in line with "I can't breathe, get me outta here!" than "Snug as a bug in a rug." The further intimation a Divine hand can pick up this domed object and shake it about a little, like a snowball thingy, and then sit back and watch how everything settles... maybe into new patterns... it's not so pleasing. Not when you're in the damn thing. And being confined in anything- I only need mention how I got trapped in my big grey snow-coat keeping me alive these frosty nights yesterday; coat behind me, wrists stuck in the narrow double cuffs and me yelling at a perplexed Dyls, "Get me out of this fucking thing now. Now!" as he frantically tried to free my backward arms and the constricted cuffs became further snagged by the twelve assorted bracelets on both wrists- "I'm gonna chew my arm off, hurry up!" And when one arm was out of the sleeve and my two hands separated and Dylan said to my "I can't be restrained like this. Ever. Ever!" "Uh... some prior warning would've been nice mum," suffices.