LETTER FROM MIKE -- CONCLUSION:
(Ed.): Below please find the conclusion of a letter from Mike that I have been sharing bit by bit for a few months. He wrote it in 1984. Apologies for the infrequency of entries, but time seems to have stopped existing in the customary quantities, lately. The remnant of the letter you will find below contains blasphemy, together with Mike's insistence that I share the blasphemous material with EVERYONE.
He was in the habit of explaining the eleventh commandment to me. It was always something different. My favorite was:
The ELEVENTH COMMANDMENT = Get in the CAR!
But below, he would have it be something else. We must take his word for it, as the Eleventh Commandment was his exclusive province. Additionally, below he includes a misspelled word. I find it intriguing because Michael did not misspell words.
I've seen some high weirdness in the news lately, and next month I hope to write a letter catching him up.
HEAVEN IS BEAUTIFUL, WISH YOU WERE HERE
(Conclusion of letter from Mike…)
…There's a painting by Edward Hopper, called 7:30, 1948, which always struck me, and then it dawned on me that I was born around 7:30 one day in 1948.
Time Is Money: My new Theory to fill the relativity void. Your time constantly rotates around getting money, spending it, getting more, trying to keep some, and variations thereof, but all from this fundamental set of principles, don't you agree? Of course. Now I'll just have someone put it down in numbers.
And then I'll have the Church put my Eleventh Commandment 'What's The Need?' in the Ten Commandments. Hell, maybe I could even get it to replace The Golden Rule. 'Do Unto Others…' could be made the new Eleventh Commandment.
In fact, in this spirit, let me say: This representative of America's major dairy firms got an audience with the Papal nuncio, and the dairy man says 'Your worship, with all respect, I come to ask that you amend the Lord's Prayer, so that it will say 'give us this day our daily bread and butter…. I'd also like to donate $250,000 -- here, take it -- to the Pope's private fund.'
The Papal nuncio gaped at the guy from Des Moines with his arm up around his shoulder and jumped up, hollering. He yells 'This is a blasphemy against God!'
So the dairy man, seeing he has stepped in it deep, starts apologizing as fast as he can. He hastens to say 'I'm sorry, your worship!! Please forgive my stupidity! I mean no disrespect to you or the Holy Father! Please forgive me!!' The nuncio says 'Well, okay. You are forgiven.' So the dairy guy jumps up and puts his face up real close and starts whispering to the nuncio 'Father. My people are willing to go as high as a half a million dollars if you'll only change the prayer to…'
But the nuncio throws him off and explodes: 'THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!!', and turns to go, his ushers hurrying to surround him.
The Dairy guy gives up: he finally yells 'ALRIGHT! WE'LL GIVE YOU TWICE WHAT THE BREAD PEOPLE ARE GIVING YOU!!'
Give us this day our daily bread and butter. I like it. It'd be funny to stick that in there if you were assigned to pray for the whole f***ing group at a get-together, when he don't even hear you pray for yourself! Forgive me.
I found that joke in some kind of f***ing government magazine. It's not bad, not bad…better than getting poked in the eye with a sharp stick, as we always said in the Air Force. And when you think about it, that statement is nearly always true.
I used to want to be a minister, until I realized I wasn't religious.
Honey, hawny, you read the good parts to someone, read everyone the joke about the butter and be happy with yourself #1 and everyone else #2.
I wish YOU could come out hear. Take you up to the hilltop and we'd get high on watching the whole area, about sixty miles north and south or more, golden or silver in the sun, or misted or wet and foggy, looking dark while we're in bright sunlight here. Just six miles away.
We love you out here, and you belong to us, don't worry.
Ugly Mike,
bad bad