Mortality rates

What rate would you put on mortality? Or you, or you? Banana's live for a few days and fruit flies for a few hours, but despite how fast life goes they find ways to continue on. Maybe that banana's great great grandson will be eaten by president Obama! There's no stopping ambitious fruit.
         Fruit flies, on the other hand, are like some sort of outer-world alien. One banana could breed hundreds, and they would all die in a day... unless they were eaten by the president. Then we just hope they have lots of protein content.
         Our car recently started wobbling in the steering wheel. It has had a long and fulfilling mortality, but unlike many other productive specimens (some of which I have mentioned) it refuses to continue the family line and leaves the entirety of its mortal longevity up to us. Jerk.
        Though, perhaps I am being to hard on it. After all, people can continue the family line, but they must retain their individual characteristics. Perhaps cars have some level of idiosyncrasies that cannot be replicated. I know our vehicle has a lot of character.
         The entire subject matter of this is very rudimentary, of course. All things were created spiritually first and return to that state on death, but what happens after? Personal resurrection is grand, but are there going to be numberless concourses of fruit flies singing praises to the almighty? I don't want to be the first one unable to enter the Celestial kingdom because of a fly-swatter. But, I have faith. I'm sure the time will come for understanding, and I'm sure all will be fine in the end. After all, this is the gospel of peace, love, and joy; not of decaying fruit and undead insects. 

More meaning

Letters have a distinct way of meaning more than they quantify. Five only has four letters. Twelve only has six. (And the same in retrospect). These words are quantifiers that don't quantify. They mean what they aren't. They mean more than they make. They translate language into introspective understanding of enumeration. But, try different words. Silent. Vocal. Deluge. These words mean something with no relation to numbers. They describe events and settings. They capture and entirely different thought process. Instead of a number on paper they become scenes. They become transcriptions of reality. Words are powerful.
Conceptually this is pleasing, but we all take words for granted. Stories fly from the press and publishing companies at an astonishing rate and whether they become believable or consuming works of art is an entirely different matter. Their idiosyncrasies must fascinate, their characters draw from us some form of empathy. Buildings and scenes must become some sort of alternate reality. When you look at a page of letters you see colors, light. You then proceed into other senses. Visually you see the words describing a smell, but they turn into something not seen but inhaled.  You see sounds and then hear them, but these processes happen so fast that a good reader becomes privy to far more knowledge than would otherwise be available. Then, you start to read things and see things you don't know about and you begin to jump gaps of creativity. You read about mountain alps when you live in Kansas and start to feel and smell and see things you can't have. Yet, this is not reality in the broad sense: this super-positioning of self. This is your specific reality (It is important to note) and once you have found it, once you have grasped your other world (however many you truly want), you are free to create whatever you like there.

Build me

   I am made out of bricks. Super-glue and Popsicle sticks. You may build me peace buy piece. But, some people prefer the pre-built kits. No questions asked. No instructions inquired. Look upon me and despair, mortal. As knowledgeable as a rodent without whiskers, paws, or snout. As knowledgeable as a mathematician in humanities! How do you maintain what you refuse to understand?
   New idea: try breaking me down. Oh dear! you can't. We do come built strong; just not by you. Look at tomorrow and tell me you aren't wasting your time, then. You could be laying piece by piece, yet you concede you are complete. You are finished. You have built all there is to be built. I disagree. And, so does Life the Inferno.
   Yesterday you had stick structured adhesives, today you have pine-ash. Yesterday you had ideas, today you have ignorance. Yesterday you knew everything. Yesterday you had. But, today is a confused tomorrow and you don't know how to fix it. Better learn fast, you are running out of time. And, if you see us smiling at you don't blame yourself. We're still just learning too. Some people just do it happier than others. Why not?