Italian beefs

I'm kind of with you on that, about the meaning of life.  What's the big deal?  Why does there have to be something behind the curtain?  You wake up and you do this or that, somewhere along the line you eat an Italian beef sandwich, wash it down with a pale ale, maybe watch a little crime tv and trundle off to slumberland.  Why does there need to be more than that?

I do seem to harp on Italian beefs don't I?  I'm guessing they probably don't have them up there on the top of Michigan.  Do you miss them?  Probably you don't miss anything about Chicago now that you have the freehold to roam wild and free in.  What kind of food do you guys eat up there?  I guess a lot of meat.  Surely you have bbq, but what kind?  The sweet southern or the smoky western, or maybe something different.  Is there a northern bbq?  We never hear about it.

Well the thing about Italian beefs is to me they symbolize the pleasures of the flesh.  Those eastern religions that neither of us knows much about, but doesn't stop us from talking about them, seem to be disdainful of the material world, and there is a strong strain of that in Christianity too.  There is the idea that in heaven we will all be kind of clouds and there will be no eating or fucking, because we won't need to, but won't we want to? 

Maybe I should pause here to ask Beaglesonia's resident bible expert what does the good book say about heaven?  I remember something about there being many houses, and I think I gold was mentioned once or twice, but I am not sure, I never spent any time in bull sessions with the Young Methodist Fellowship.  And by the way whatever did you guys do?  I assume it was mostly some way to meet girls, but nice Methodist girls.

I did some wiki research on John Wesley Harding and Methodism.  I have to say they came out pretty good, in favor of peace and love and the common man, and a total rejection of that awful predeterminism.  I do believe that John Wesley did come from a predeterminist background, but I always suspected those Calvinists, if they ever let themselves think about things, thought it was kind of screwy.

You know I see myself as a pleasure cruiser, a guy who looks over the railings of my luxury liner and laughs at those wacky questers looking under every rock, and those humorless warriors fighting their endless battles for what?  But now that I am pretty old, I find myself thinking that maybe I should have done something, left some message, and I suppose there is still time Brother.

What I should do is go through the whole blog and distill only the finest wisdom and phrase it just so, and present it to humanity who will bang their foreheads and think Damn, why didn't we think of this, and live forever, well until the sun turns red giant, in peace and prosperity, toasting Beaglesonia, before they eat their Italian beefs.


I was thinking about those shamans.  And you know me Beagles, I don't believe in no holy book or wisdom of the east and surely not much of what I imagine those shamans were peddling.  So I kind of assumed that those shamans didn't either, they were just hoodwinking the common man for their own benefit.  But upon further reflection they probably believed in what they were peddling, they probably thought they were doing a good thing, healing the sick, providing household tips, and then there was that meaning thing. 

See I don't know this, but I think people have this hunger for meaning, for thinking that surely life is more than the next Italian beef (like I said even I, a proud dedicated pleasure cruiser, am beginning to have doubts in my old age), and it's hard to say what exactly meaning means, but if there was somebody else, more powerful, wiser, and preferably invisible, so that you could never see Him stub his toe, why you could just dedicate your life to Him, and then that hunger for meaning thing would be filled and you could enjoy your Italian beef with a clear conscience.