The death of many, by Globetrotter

I cannot appease this feeling of anguish. There are many people around there, being killed. Christmas doesn't help very much, neither the weather, which is one day Summer, and the other Winter.
Human life isn't worth a dime. One may die after the TV and other may die before the TV.
The Pope was stubborn and the era of academic stubborness has come to an end .It was overwhelmed by love, passion and its illusions. But the illusion of Wisdom is nothing else than another illusion, in all this confusion. The people we love will bring back to us, the pride on that they love better. I wonder myself whether we are needing lessons in love.
I'm afraid that the Pope is going for Bartolomew, the Patriarch, ignoring how the Orthodoxs managed to survive in an hostile environment. Academic splendour and schoolar assertiveness has come to an end. And the hostile muslims are already stampedeing among themselves, even if the throng waves behind, gathered there, only to see. Behind a brilliant academic there is a dreaming humorist. But an humorist doesn't manage the miracle of laughing. Laughter has to emerge in outbursts. There is no model joke to guarantee the laughs. It depends on the moisture in the air. And now, there is no moisture.
Jesus had no Library and he was not very certain about the watch.
I fear for the Pope. I fear for an all-out war.