(for Tania, Goldie, Jack, Georgia, and Grey) – may you rest

Sedative Ketamine Rainbow

My dogs, my loves, my deers

These were your last memories, and I could only think to pick up shards of glass as you laid in urine.

Hardly the time.

I know how to clean like Glenn Gould plays the piano or how Howard Hughes knows germs.

I wish I had kept the stains, kept the beds. I wish I had made daisies of your golden deaths.

#poetry

(revised from the chapbook Ghostpins, 2019)

I must be completely mad.

I've spent the better part of September creating what has amounted to a 40-page document that details builds and things that need getting made to get the studio in order.

Why am I like this?

#journal #studio #cairo

Retour au post de guet, la fenêtre d’un studio loué dans une minicité (chambre-salon, cuisinette, douche-WC) ou [soi se tenant dans le fond du couloir] l’embrasure commune de la porte d’entrée. On piste du regard et de l’ouïe, non l’entièreté physique de la ville immense, inembrassable d’un coup, mais sa nuit, le trou de la ville-nuit, en quoi ‒ ou plutôt qui ‒ défilent, pareils aux nuages dans la troposphère, le questionnement [de soi], tel épisode de fantasmes que l’on tourne en séries, la marge équivoque des songes, une poussée de confiance ou de désespoir, et surtout l’image de la ville, qui voile son inconnu.

[Soi devant cette image mouvante.]

#Fenêtresurville #Didascalies

 

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Photo “deep forest 2” by the-photon-trap is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

too much tech is like escapism for our underlying human issues.

Somebody at church Wednesday night told me something I wrote on Facebook was labeled AI-created. Or AI-influenced. Or AI-something or another.

I laughed.

“Well, I use SpeakApp.”

And yes, apparently there’s some AI under the hood. I didn’t even realize that when I started using it.

I just knew the thing was useful.

I talk.

It listens.

Then it hands my words back to me.

That’s it.

I originally started using it because I’m a preacher and a hospice chaplain. Sometimes I need to remember exactly what was said. Sometimes the conversation is serious. Very serious. Sometimes I’m trying to determine whether somebody might hurt themselves:

“Do you intend self-harm? Do you have a plan, a tool, a device that could remove you from us or your pain?”

Words matter in those rooms.

So I started recording my thoughts and conversations when appropriate, then going back through them.

But somewhere along the road, I discovered something else.

I could write while driving.

Not typing.

Not staring at a screen.

Talking.

Like I’m doing right now.

SpeakApp is recording every word.

Later, I’ll go through it. Clean it up. Cut the fat. Straighten the crooked sentences. Make it sound like me.

I know exactly how I like to write. I love the voice of Pulp fiction. Noir.

Short sentences. Hard stops. A little thunder dripping off the edges.

Remember Mickey Spillane? That old noir style?

Somebody once asked me what pulp fiction writing sounded like. Years ago, before I started going to church, I used to give them this ridiculous example:

“She walked into my office. She was hot. Hotter than hot. She went through men like most men go through cigarettes.”

People laughed. They were supposed to. It was over the top. That was the point.

I wouldn’t write something like that today–too worldly. But I use it as a fairly good example of the writing style that I am most familiar with, the one that captures my “writing voice” and forges it into a hammer of vengeance when the need to make a point is paramount.

Pulp fiction writing isn’t trying to win a literary prize. It moves. Fast.

“He came through the door asking questions. I answered with my right hand. He wouldn’t be asking another one for a while.”

Swing the sledgehammer. Bang. Move on.

Bruce Willis could do that kind of thing on Moonlighting. Quick. Sharp. No wasted motion.

And frankly, I think that kind of writing works today because people’s attention spans aren’t exactly getting longer–thank you, X (the social media platform formerly known as Twitter).

So here I am. Driving down the road. I just dropped Vinnie off after chemo. I’ve already been doing chaplain work.

Now I’ve got to get home, grab my stuff, put on my little suit—the one that works for preaching and chaplain work—and head back out for a big meeting.

And through all of it, I’m talking. Capturing thoughts while they’re still warm. Before they disappear. Hands on the wheel. Voice in the App.

Because that’s the strange thing about writing. Every writer eventually develops what they call their “writer’s voice.”

You can study writing. Get an MFA. Get a PhD. Sit in classrooms and discuss “writer’s voice” until the coffee gets cold.

But this? This is literally my voice. My actual voice. Coming out of my mouth while I’m driving down the highway at 65 mph.

Then I take that spoken voice and hammer it into my writing voice. Cut a word here. Move a sentence there. Drop another one. Let a little pulp-fiction thunder drip down the page.

And then I post it.

So now I’m curious. What will Facebook call this?

AI-created? AI-assisted? AI-influenced? AI-derived?

Who knows? Who cares?

The thoughts are mine. The stories are mine. The experiences are mine. The voice coming through the microphone is mine. The machine just helps me catch it before it gets away.

And because of the voice recording, I’m writing more than I have in years. That matters to me.

Because I’m not sitting behind a keyboard trying to remember what I was thinking three hours ago. I’m catching the thought while it still has blood pumping through it.

I talk. I hit the red button. SpeakApp cleans up the dead air, the “uhs,” the pauses, the hiccups and coughs, and some of the verbal wreckage.

Then I go to work.

Sometimes I’ll even hear a preacher on YouTube say something worth remembering. I can capture the material, work with the transcript, and move what I need into Google Docs for my own notes and my own personal Bible study.

For a preacher, this thing is a toolbox. And don’t us guys just love tools.

A hammer doesn’t build the house by itself. A microphone doesn’t preach the sermon. A pen never wrote a book without a hand wrapped around it.

And software doesn’t have my memories.

It didn’t live my life. It didn’t drop Vinnie off at chemo today. It didn’t walk into hospice rooms yesterdays. It didn’t hold the hand of the dying patient, or lead that wayward soul into the Sinner’s Prayer. It didn’t stand behind my pulpit. It wasn’t there.

I was.

So call it whatever you want. AI-assisted. AI-influenced. Machine-polished.

I don’t particularly care. I’m still the guy behind the wheel. Literally.

And figuratively.

SpeakApp just helps me catch the words before they blow out the window.

Then I take them home… and make them thunder.

(Thank you, Jenny, for telling me that. I dedicate this blog post to you and our interactive Bible study questions at Wednesday Night Bible Study.)

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photo © Martina @Marty75

Upon rereading A place I cannot yet go, I noticed my framing through the use of the word yet. Such a small but profound word. Yet is not soon. Soon measures distance on a clock, the ticks that jump from second to second, as if time were some supreme mechanism ticking toward an appointed hour. But time is less a matter of gearworks than of celestial motion, bodies turning in relation to one another — souls intertwined despite and because of their geometry. Yet asserts not when but where, a place behind a door that only one key can open, and that key belongs to a particular hand.

Yet is also an admission, in both senses — the first, confession; the second, entry. Admissions have their own geometry, opening only at certain alignments of and by certain bodies, filtering the song from the noise, the performative from the real, and the heart from the heartless.

I'm listening to a very special playlist again, songs gathered across lifetimes, realities, and synchronicities. Some would call it nostalgia. I call it communion. I can't go home yet, can't be there together, and yet I can still feel it through the music — confirmation of bond as connection and destination. Perhaps that is how one remembers a place not yet reached, by looking back to look forward, listening patiently for the key to finally turn.

#Intermundia #Anomalology

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By D. Bowman | Nomina Numina is a journal of my reflections, moments, and meaning-making between worlds. Reply by email.

2

1

It is funny how you can meet someone and just know. Isn't it? There's no rhyme nor reason, but as soon as you come across them even without word or look, something inside pings.

I have often wondered about this. Various beliefs have their opinion on it. I do think physics also is capable of explaining it. Fictional books, like the series I'm reading now, are often inspired by the idea. But what is it? What is it?

Mind you, when I say “someone” I do mean animal and plants, too. I find it odd that so many claim to never feel the awareness. Then again, how many are actually aware? Connection is a funny thing. I wonder why its embrace has such curious variables.

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

En Dan Dit

'Nou de kop is er af' zei de beul staande bij het Håk™ hakblok tegen de ceremonie meester aan het begin van hun eerste werkdag op het gerenoveerde podium van het juridisch staatstheater.

Keer kerel, keer om, je verkeert in verkeerde kringen en daar doe je keer op keer verkeerde dingen.

Dikke Bult vers

De paardenknechten probeerden een merrie tot coopulatie te dwingen En dan en daar vanuit het niets horen zij engelen zingen... 'Help ons wij zijn van daarboven omlaag gevallen wij liggen op een hoopje tussen beide paardenstallen ik heb onder andere mijn enkel gebroken zij de hare verrekt of verstuikt en het raakt al ontstoken zijn bekken staat scheef en de heup is uit de kom en haar arm staat op een heel rare manier krom help ons alsjeblieft het was een behoorlijke smak help ons op de been en stel ons op het gemak we konden er niets aan doen de hemel brak open net op die plek waar wij onze trainingsrondjes lopen' De paardenknechten durfden er niet aan te beginnen ze raakten in paniek en zetten het op een rennen Teleurgesteld over het voortdurend uitblijven van verbeterende daden gingen ze zich vervolgens te buiten aan een scala van gruwelijke misdaden.

I haven't used Instagram in a long time. Kind of funny to note. When I typed that first sentence it said, I haven't looked at Instagram in a long time. I went back and changed it to used. It seemed more fitting, in the same sense as when a person says they haven't used heroin or cocaine in awhile. I kicked Instagram. Cold turkey.

It was part of my daily routine for a long time before I stopped. I would get home from work, and make something to eat. Then I would sit on the couch eating, and scrolling. One day I just randomly decided that I had enough of it. Wasn't even something I had planned to do that day. No build up or anything. I was just sitting there staring at my phone, and I thought, wtf am I doing?

No idea at all how long ago it was when I stopped. I guess there is likely a way to look that up in usage history data or something. I don't really care about it enough to bother. I don't miss it. It is interesting to think about how I could instantly live without it.

There were some okay things about it. A lot of good people post a lot of good content there. The biggest issue for me was the lack of control over what came up next. On top of the lack of control; it was very obviously being infiltrated by useless A.I. slop. That is likely worse now than it was when I stopped.

I was thinking about the words Artificial Intelligence. I found myself thinking of them on their own. Artificial. Intelligence. I had a weird thought that the thing we are calling Artificial Intelligence is not artificial or intelligent.

It is a bunch of massive computers, that are real. They have been fed things that their creators stole from us. Things that were created with our intelligence. It has all been converted into data. The things process that data with processors the size of warehouses, and their creators sell that as intelligence. And I guess we buy it.

They are like vampires draining things from humanity that we require for our existence. Where are they getting all the materials to build these things? Can those materials be used to make life better for humans in some way, and not for building massive computers? I don't know. Probably.

Draining water. Draining electricity. They say that they generate enough heat to warm the air around them. For miles around. Like we need that right now.

Do we need A.I.? Why?

It seems mostly so a tiny handful of rich a$$holes can be even richer than they already were, and so they can have more power, and more control.

Well, after 104 days since my last day of work, and 226 days total of waiting I finally got my approval.

Nothing changes right away, I need to wait for things to get processed and wait for the approval to get mailed. While this feels life changing (and it is), it is also a reminder of how quickly things can change. The unfairness that surrounds us each and every day. The prejudice and injustice. The bias that encircles this awful judgment. It feels like a relief, yet I continue to live with this lack of freedom. I have to hold myself at such high standards, and still, my life can easily be held on such a tight and delicate string.

I was terminated from my job, so I will need to start over again. As exciting as this is, it doesn’t just mean I can get back to work ASAP. It will take some time to get back to regularity and I need to have some time to find myself and really define what is important to me. While this is a great sign and all I have been waiting for, it is only the beginning. I now have to move on to the next step; the fight is not over yet.

Don’t get me wrong, I am feeling a huge wave of gratitude and relief. Beyond happy for the opportunities available for me… including maybe swinging a visit to a special someone.

Thank you for your message. I am currently out of office — but not for much longer.

Why D&C 107:64–65 still matters

Latter-day Saints commonly speak of the President of the Church as “the prophet.” The phrase is affectionate, familiar, and now almost automatic. It is also not the title Class 1 scripture gives him.

That is not a small vocabulary problem. It changes what people think a prophet is, what they expect from the President of the Church, and whether the gift of prophecy still belongs to the body of the Saints.

The canon is not flat

The papers on this site use a simple source hierarchy, drawn from patterns already in the scriptures and from Joseph F. Smith’s 1897 standard when later commentary conflicted with revelation:

• Class 1: the Lord’s own voice—“saith the Lord,” or equivalent direct command.
• Class 2: a messenger’s account of a vision or revelation.
• Class 3: commentary, counsel, custom, and later synthesis.

Class 3 material can be useful. It is not the standard when it collides with Class 1. The present question is exactly that kind of collision. The Lord named the office. Later usage renamed it.

What the revelation actually says

Doctrine and Covenants 107 is presented as revelation. In verses 64–66 the Lord says that one must be appointed of the High Priesthood to preside, “and he shall be called President of the High Priesthood of the Church; or, in other words, the Presiding High Priest over the High Priesthood of the Church.”

That is a Class 1 title. It is not a suggestion. It is not public-relations language. It is the name of the office.

The same section also describes other officers by priesthood function: presidents of quorums, bishops, and so on. The pattern is consistent. The Church’s presiding officer is a high priest who presides. He is not given the exclusive personal title “the Prophet” in that revelation.

If we take Class 1 as the standard, the ordinary speech of the Church should follow D&C 107:64–65.

The older convention

The Bible already had a way of speaking about this.

A prophet was a person sent to speak for God. Samuel heard the Lord when “the word of the Lord was precious in those days; there was no open vision” (1 Samuel 3). He was not Eli. Eli was the high priest. Samuel received a call outside that office and was therefore called a prophet.

A high priest held an ordained office. In some periods that office was associated with the gift of prophecy. John’s Gospel records that Caiaphas, “being high priest that year,” spoke a word that the narrator treats as prophecy (John 11:49–51). The point is not that Caiaphas was righteous. The point is the old assumption: the high priest might prophesy by virtue of the office. When that happened, scripture still called him high priest.

The convention is therefore fairly simple:

• If the gift arrived through priestly office, the person kept the priesthood title.
• If the call arrived outside that office, the person was called a prophet.

Moses, Samuel, Elijah, Anna, and Agabus are prophets. Aaron, Eli, and Caiaphas are high priests. The two functions can meet in one person. They are not the same word.

Joseph Smith fits the older pattern of a prophet. He reported visions, dictations, and “saith the Lord” revelations. He also became the presiding officer of the restored Church. Those are two facts, not one title. Later presidents inherited the office of Presiding High Priest. They did not inherit Joseph’s mode of receiving and publishing canonized revelation as a regular practice. Speaking as a shepherd out of stewardship is real work. It is not the same thing as the Joseph Smith pattern that investigators first learn.

The gift was never meant to be an exclusive brand

Joel said the Lord’s Spirit would be poured out and “your sons and your daughters shall prophesy… your old men shall dream dreams” (Joel 2:28). Peter said that promise had begun to be fulfilled (Acts 2). Paul told the Corinthian church to desire spiritual gifts, “but rather that ye may prophesy” (1 Corinthians 14:1). He treated prophecy as a gift that could be sought and exercised in the congregation, subject to order and testing.

Class 1 and Class 2 texts therefore point in two directions at once:

1. There is a presiding high priest over the Church.

2. The gift of prophecy is not confined to that one man.

If “prophet” is reserved as a unique brand name for the President of the Church, both truths are damaged. The office is misnamed. The gift is made to look rare, official, and closed.

That is the opposite of Acts 2.

Why the renamed title causes confusion

Non-members and new members usually meet Joseph Smith first. They hear that a fourteen-year-old asked God, received a vision, and later dictated revelations. “Prophet,” in that story, means what it meant in Samuel’s story: a person who receives and delivers the word of the Lord.

Then they enter the modern Church and hear that “the prophet” is the current President. They reasonably expect the same mode: dictation, “saith the Lord,” frequent addition to the canon. What they usually hear instead is counsel, conference addresses, proclamations, and stewardship. Those things may be inspired. They are still, in the language of this site, Class 3 unless they bear the marks of Class 1 or Class 2 and are received as canon.

The mismatch is not mysterious. The Church has kept the biblical word and changed the office underneath it. Members then have to perform a quiet redefinition: “prophet” now means “the man who holds the keys and presides,” not “one who prophesies.” Investigators are not told that the definition changed. They only feel the gap.

There is a second confusion inside the Church. If only one living person is “the prophet,” then sons and daughters who prophesy become an embarrassment. Dreams and impressions have to be fenced off as private and unofficial. Paul’s counsel becomes hard to read aloud. The title that should have remained common becomes a monopoly.

Class 3 custom is not a small thing here

Calling the President “the prophet” is Class 3 custom. It is later usage. It is widespread. It is not D&C 107.

Class 3 custom has power because it trains the ear. Once the ear is trained, members hear every presidential statement as if it were Class 1. That is how commentary begins to sit on top of canon. The papers on Adam-God and divine sonship exist because that habit has already done damage. A later synthesis was treated as if it had the same weight as “saith the Lord.” The cure is not contempt for leaders. The cure is to put the titles back where the revelation put them.

The President of the High Priesthood may prophesy. He may receive revelation for the Church. If he does, the Church has a way to recognize it: the voice of the Lord, a clear revelatory account, and the consent of the Church when it is to become canon. None of that requires us to rename the office.

What following D&C 107:64–65 would look like

It would look surprisingly modest.

• In teaching and writing, call the presiding officer what the Lord called him: President of the High Priesthood, or Presiding High Priest.
• Use “President [Name]” as the ordinary public form.
• Use “prophet” for the gift and the function, not as a personal brand. Joseph was a prophet. Others may prophesy. The President may do both. The office name remains the office name.
• Teach investigators the difference early: Joseph’s prophetic call is one thing; succession in the presiding high priesthood is another.
• Leave room for Joel and Acts. If the Spirit is poured out, sons and daughters will prophesy. That should not sound like a threat to the President. It should sound like the Church working as promised.

This does not reduce the President’s keys. D&C 107 gives him presidency over the priesthood. It does not give later generations permission to collapse every biblical word for revelation into that one chair.

The real issue

The question is not whether the Church has a living head. It does. The question is whether we will let Class 3 familiarity overwrite a Class 1 command.

D&C 107:64–65 is not obscure. It is not metaphorical. It tells the Church what to call the man appointed to preside. When members instead say “the prophet,” they are not being more faithful than the revelation. They are using a different dictionary.

A Church that hopes for more revelation should want the old words back. “President of the High Priesthood” protects the office. “Prophet” protects the gift. Keeping them distinct is not a loss of reverence. It is obedience to the text that named the office in the first place.

Have they not read the scriptures?

Bloggers, can we make better titles for our posts? michaelharley.net By Michael Harley

Read original post →

I came across this blog post by Michael Harley. I started following him after I came across some of his blog posts on bubbles.town (I want to call it button.town every time I type it, and I don't know why 😀).

But he does have a point, and I am guilty of making bad titles too. In fact, if it were up to me, I probably wouldn't have any titles. But I think most things in writing do deserve titles and subjects. Even emails, although I don't like filling out the subject line most of the time.

He argues:

Use descriptive titles #

Please for the love of god, give me some idea what your blog post is about. I'm interested in a wide range of topics. So even if your post is about something obscure, give me something other than Recent Thoughts... or So Far, So Good. Recent thoughts on what?! What is good so far??? Especially on Bubbles, but maybe even on other blog aggregators, the title is the main signal so pause for a beat and try to come up with a decent title for your blog post.

— By Michael Harley · Bloggers, can we make better titles for our posts? michaelharley.net

I think he's right about that. A title doesn't need to be clever or optimized for search engines. It just needs to give people some idea of what they're about to read.

But I have to disagree with his other point:

Avoid bucket posts

I think this one might be a bit unpopular but I do not like the round-up posts. You know the ones. They're titled Week Notes, Week in Review, Weekly Links and the like.

I think these kinds of updates are totally acceptable, and I learn a lot by reading them. In fact, I am long overdue for a subscription update myself.

I have also been trying to do more of his next item: writing posts in reply to other people. Especially since I am using webmentions everywhere I can and self-hosting and publishing the replies myself.

In the end, I enjoy reading Michael's posts, and he usually, like Kev Quirk, gives me ideas about how to shape my blogs and my posting, and even how to practice replying to other blog posts.

So go check out Michael Harley and bubbles.town.

#blogging #opinion #writing