Thanksgiving Days are like some other of our holidays; those of which we are often wont to say, “We should celebrate this … every day.”

Would that it were so. Not to have a paid holiday every day, but rather, to play and to pray every day. It’d be a good way to Him, … in kind, repay.

We’ve ALL gone astray. The Big Three; Jews, Muslims and Christians are locked in gray frays which we must immediately … allay.

We must allay without further delay these frays wherein too many commingle prayers of praise for Him with prayer that He aid … to slay.

Blasphemy! Prayer invoking the name of The Almighty Creator of us all to aid to flay and slay your brother is blasphemy … Arthur relays.

Woe to those whom aspire to sustain travesties of justice (our surreal realities). We must array against the Evil One … Keep him  at bay.

And so it passed that God googled a crew of angels and charged them: ”Help Arthur to bray against those who would thwart … My Way.”

Indeed, humanity’s story is shaping up to be, a story inexplicably cut short. Like babies that die in infancy or talents that pass untimely … out of time. 

Extraordinary events in the normal course of events are not then actually, very extraordinary.  But who, pray tell … may mourn for humanity?

Arthur’s spoken words fell on deaf ears; his written words, on blind eyes and on strained brains, as if, sedated.  Then 12-21 … came.

Human history is replete with supposed coincidences, implausible ironies, straining credulity. But Garcia Marquez … and Mo Yan see.

Few others see that more goes on in our lives than meets the eye. It is an undisputable fact: Senses deceive. On that fact … we aught act.

Come to pass; one more implausibility; on the eve, effectively of a new age, slacker Arthur ‘Sauled to Pauled’ … from imbiber to writer.

Truly, He purposely uses the weak to more dramatically accomplish His purpose. But you need not be stricken by lightning … just wannabe.

Just 20 more days; less than three weeks to go ‘til the fourth weekend of December of His year 2012. Lord … mercy on us … down here. 

Attention Jew, Christian, Muslim, agnostic and atheist … Re-read Scriptures. Verify for yourself that you were to love Him … not yourselves. 

Woe to him without wisdom enough to read Script., nor smart enough to read on walls, thousands of tongues … on countless walls.

Arthur Everman did as The Almighty Creator bade him, warning warring brethren … again and again. Listening not to Him … would they a man? 

Beseeching imprimatur signs some came a-calling … A tall tree falling did injure Arthur, cuing blue skies to clue too; lightning him … a-striking. 

Signs are everywhere. We see them not. Locked in metaphysical cells (paradigm matrices) and beset by surreal realities, we ne’er understand .

This story of humanity, shapes up to be, a story too short. Sorely lacking solidarity, humanity’s story’s short … but it needn’t be.

Who is chachomanopapa? Chachomanopapa (aka COMPAI or CMP) … is a means to a view … and to an end. Viral … not physical … it is less a who … than a what …  One’s a plan.

So … what’s the plan, Stan? Incredibly, a wretch as wretched as Paul and as regretful as Augustine, fearing … prayed for help. Dreams brought critter friends to make a silk purse, … out of a sow’s earring.

Spiritual intervention came in nightly dreams … Critters and Art conjured there … CMP. Within its 14 letters, six syllables and three words … Spanish diminutives for boy, brother and father.

 Chachomanopapa’s meant to both noun and verb be. To be both that place on the net where we’re reborn to do, learn, earn … and transcend … to His views. 

Dream atop the same mountaintop from atop which Dr. King (don’t ever forget) dreamt of a Kingdom restored. Exactly like that coming Kingdom … that’s in store.

So it is that prayer … passion … and a public … outcry … via an entity (for marketing reasons being deemed a priori) with a heart … chachomanopapa.

Going forward it may empower sufficient transcendences to albeit, implausibly forge individual  as well as a  collective fate …. That is chachomanopapa.

Lord: Art humbly prays Your Holy Spirit infuse him with insight distilled to empower. Co-author Art gets (via Twitter), to Your adopted children … messages … faster.

BLEATING IRONY shall turn to themes in education often. Seems to be that Tweeting irony is a great forum; to start, check out an oddity of only the world’s 2nd … lingua franca.

The richest tongue on the planet (by word count) owes its wealth to poor immigrants, heavy borrowing from foreign tongues … and His timing … fateful and … quirky.

To wit: More English-speaking Chinese than there are Americans. Perhaps, … more Chinese Americans than Americans … know … a twit … from … a tweet.

Tweet & Tweet; both, pretty commonly understood. But twit? Twits are taunts. To twit’s to titter … or to tease … Hmm … Our host … is Twitter … not Tweeter!

Why Twitter and not Tweeter, albeit an intriguing riddle isn’t the point. The point’s that from up aloft atop Mt. King’s peak … one glimpses … His Kingdom.

“Wassup wid dat shit?” or something akin some’ll mock. Mock not the possibility of what’s really a surreally … must-do-thing … As vehicle … God chose chachomanopapa … surreally.

Almighty: Arthur humbly prays Your Holy Spirit infuse him with insight distilled. … Aid him bring adopted children … messages … sobering.

Ever look for a hat … already on your head? Or glasses … on bridges … just under eyes? … Or otherwise … not clearly observe … what you look for?

Changes in perspective often bring into view what’s unsuccessfully sought for.  Accordingly, whether looking … for hats, keys or souls … don’t ever God overlook, ignorantly.

Life and death, and whether sooner or later, in big pictures are matters, quite disquietingly, belittling. Accordingly, … a Crew has been moved to write … warning sallies.

Writing as Ovid once long ago did, as if “… to sing of shapes turned into new bodies …” of such … has been Art’s vision to reach; of such … his song to teach.

Sometimes we find what we’ve been looking for; the sundry hats … spectacles … purses … keys … and souls … sometimes we don’t … but fret not earthly …

… losses…. Rather, … recognize what’s of utmost importance; …your holy soul is wholly key, … to cribs (heavenly homes) … promised cross-Scripturally … literally.