Talking to both Rose and Kristen this Holy wholly dead Saturday,

and actually I also called Walter, and Richard called me--So we're this sort of Internet Decameron-esque consciousness in time of Plague. Rose, bless her, told me not to spill dirt on Walter in the guise of Human Comedy revelations, answering quite properly "mou" when I slitheringly proposed that that's why I made them. So, in our senescence, we go on learning.

This is, remarkably, that official day of the Xian calendar that Jesus is Dead. Fun concept. I like talking to Rose about my deist, or should I say theist, proclivities, the which she, as a believing (I think--she tries) Roman Catholic, is well capable of keeping the ball in motion during our little chats. When we chortled together about the ironic significance of Pope Francis's saying his Holy Saturday Mass in a plague-emptied basilica, we were as two civilized Internet cousins, each catching the gleam in the other's eye.