St. Thomas

One of my fav pics.
Cool threads, Emo hair from 102AD, and Epistle in hand... A number of you have asked what my hand gesture signifies. It means simply, "Yo! I'm cool, you're chill, ya'know it?"
It has come to this has it? People ask me what it is that I am holding in my pic and all other images of me. I am a writer, you know. I was known for my way with the word, and am an Honorary Irish Bard labeled with the gift of gab, with a wee bit o' the Blarney Stone still imbedded in a portion of my anterior region. But I digress.
What is this object in my hand? Why, it is my Epistle, the Epistle of St. Thomas, of which I am very fond. It is longer than the other Apostles' Epistles, as I love to write. And I must admit I have always felt a little estranged from that party due to Epistle envy on their parts. What was that about thou shalt not covet?
That being said, my Epistle was lost for ages and ages, but being well-crafted and right well approved of by the big guy, it was seen fit to guide a wandering fellow to the urns where it lay hidden by... well, lets just say that jealousy is a bit of a sin, you know? Paul has a lot of explaining to do when he gets out of Iraq.
The Magdalen on her return to the Bungalow in 1918. She is chic.
In the meantime, luckily for me Mary the Magdalen found my Epistle and kept it all that time, thus salvaging a part of my own self until she reappeared at the Bungalow circa 1918. Well, with Jesus having been extremely busy in these last few centuries, what with all the wars he's had to put out what's been "in his name," well, you know how relationships go. So I'm rather fond of Mary, as she kept up my end for a number of centuries at no small cost to herself. She makes great omelettes.
Other than my love of language, the first thing you need to know about me is that I like to wander, and may be late for major epochal events. My trade is a carpenter and architect. I was a twin. I really dig India, and have lived there for quite a long time. Let's see, I enjoy Olympic sports, especially Javelin and Hammer Throwing.
I'm not into people who are know it all, or vacuous and flighty people who have simple blind faith. I have this friend Paul, and don't get me wrong, he's a great guy and all, but Paul was always willing to accept things at face value. I kind of believe in the experiential view, you know what I mean?
Now what about Gnosticism? It's hip, it's contemplative, and so it's a little heretical. Who buried those scrolls anyway? And one more thing, Muhammed Ali's mother. You might know when she burned that papyrus to make her damned tea she nabbed my best lines! Even so, I remind you that my epistle is still the most loved and well regarded of all the Gnostic gospels.
In an experiment against church convention on Earth, I've taken in a few lost souls -- Michael Hutchence, for one. He's like a little puppy. He's been awfully moody since offing himself. I felt sorry for him there in Purgatory, all in limbo and all due to the suicide factor. Marilyn Monroe shares a loft with me, and Anne Sexton keeps her company there quite often. I say it can get very wordy around here. So you might say I'm running a halfway house for the self-inflicted. I took Michael, Marilyn and Sid Vicious in over at my Bungalow, and I moved into the vestibule to meditate more and live a little more simply. Sid and Marilyn have been a Godsend, but we all need to think of ways to help Michael out of his funk so he can get his groove back. You should see Marilyn doing "Dear Mr. President what with her platinum spikes. Billy Idol's got nothing on her, he ain't.
And by the by, I was speaking to Kurt Cobain the other day, who's been running a hip-hop joint over in Germany since he passed. And yes, there's a little of the squirrely on tap here, as he doesn't really qualify to crash at my place, being there was more than a dram of confusion about his departure there on the firmament... So he never was a squatter at Hades' pad, if you dig.
So welcome, and felicitations, on your entry into the Bungalow Vestibule of Harmony, Peace and Light. Things are a bit... different here at the Bungalow. Nothing is ever as it seems, and what with Life being what it is, you know, well, that is as it should be. Perceptions. Truth. Well, we are what we are and we are where we are from, so that we are what we believe ourselves to be follows suit.
Careful, all ye who enter here, as there is humour at stake. Ours is an open minded place, with plenty of room for imagination, rumination, elucidation and prevarication. Simply put, use your heart, use your head, use your intuition, and it might be a good suggestion to listen to the theme song from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory while you're at it...
Read on, Pilgrim... There is much to see and laugh about within these pages. Blogs, comments, pictures and mental wanderings along the path...
That'll do it for now, other than I really dig Las Vegas, aka Sin City. Closest thing in the States to Bollywood, lots of high volume return on soul-saving in less than an hour, and that Wayne Newton is Crrrrazy, man. He and I spiked an idea to start a drive-thru salvation counter, and I'm blissed to say we've been doing a right nice business. I got props from JC and the big guy on that little gem, and Wayne got some prime real estate to the Promised Land. Yep, you guessed it. Cocoa Beach.
Oh yeah. One more thing. I don't like being left out. Never did get over that one.
I edited my profile with Thomas' Myspace Editor V4.4
I just like this pic a lot :-) Those Muslim architects really know how to build cool towers.