the execution of john doe.
september 12, 1978, dawned bright and clear with a promise of an early fall coolness to counteract the oppressive heat that had lingered sullenly over the countryside.. in his prison cell, john doe ate his last breakfast, savoring each bite of the crisp bacon, fluffy eggs, and buttery grits.
the scalding hot coffee, laced with real cream, tasted like the nectar of gods as he swirled it around in his mouth before swallowing it with gusto.. he had arisen early, showering and shaving in the pre-dawn hours before his daily reading of the scriptures.
Or - my personal pet peeve - "Moby Dick" - supposedly all about the "symbolism" of the white whale and Cap'n Ahab... "Moby Dick" isn't nearly as "symbolic" as the scholars would have one believe - and I've read it many times...
I'm calling your bluff on that one. I suffered through that book one time, hoping it would get better. It never did.
the execution of john doe.
september 12, 1978, dawned bright and clear with a promise of an early fall coolness to counteract the oppressive heat that had lingered sullenly over the countryside.. in his prison cell, john doe ate his last breakfast, savoring each bite of the crisp bacon, fluffy eggs, and buttery grits.
the scalding hot coffee, laced with real cream, tasted like the nectar of gods as he swirled it around in his mouth before swallowing it with gusto.. he had arisen early, showering and shaving in the pre-dawn hours before his daily reading of the scriptures.
persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot.
Don't forget this part. You're not taking Twain at face value are you?
the execution of john doe.
september 12, 1978, dawned bright and clear with a promise of an early fall coolness to counteract the oppressive heat that had lingered sullenly over the countryside.. in his prison cell, john doe ate his last breakfast, savoring each bite of the crisp bacon, fluffy eggs, and buttery grits.
the scalding hot coffee, laced with real cream, tasted like the nectar of gods as he swirled it around in his mouth before swallowing it with gusto.. he had arisen early, showering and shaving in the pre-dawn hours before his daily reading of the scriptures.
And that just about sums up my opinion of people who try to read special, hidden symbolism into other peoples' writing...
Zid
Like it or not, symbolism is a huge component of good writing.
the execution of john doe.
september 12, 1978, dawned bright and clear with a promise of an early fall coolness to counteract the oppressive heat that had lingered sullenly over the countryside.. in his prison cell, john doe ate his last breakfast, savoring each bite of the crisp bacon, fluffy eggs, and buttery grits.
the scalding hot coffee, laced with real cream, tasted like the nectar of gods as he swirled it around in his mouth before swallowing it with gusto.. he had arisen early, showering and shaving in the pre-dawn hours before his daily reading of the scriptures.
A set of railroad tracks run on each side of the train path. Though they are parallel, they are not the same. Why don't we let Sylvia tell us if there is an intentionall parallel in the story to Christ. I'll bet a dollar to a nickle there is.
the execution of john doe.
september 12, 1978, dawned bright and clear with a promise of an early fall coolness to counteract the oppressive heat that had lingered sullenly over the countryside.. in his prison cell, john doe ate his last breakfast, savoring each bite of the crisp bacon, fluffy eggs, and buttery grits.
the scalding hot coffee, laced with real cream, tasted like the nectar of gods as he swirled it around in his mouth before swallowing it with gusto.. he had arisen early, showering and shaving in the pre-dawn hours before his daily reading of the scriptures.
I don't see parallels to Christ, because this John Doe appeared to be a wicked man who deserved to be executed.
That's what the Jews said about christ, is it not? Was he not executed as a common criminal?
the execution of john doe.
september 12, 1978, dawned bright and clear with a promise of an early fall coolness to counteract the oppressive heat that had lingered sullenly over the countryside.. in his prison cell, john doe ate his last breakfast, savoring each bite of the crisp bacon, fluffy eggs, and buttery grits.
the scalding hot coffee, laced with real cream, tasted like the nectar of gods as he swirled it around in his mouth before swallowing it with gusto.. he had arisen early, showering and shaving in the pre-dawn hours before his daily reading of the scriptures.
Psalm 22:1 My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? why art thou so far from helping me, and from the words of my roaring? ...
Next thing he knew, the guard was waking him for dinner, or as his grandma would have said, supper. His last supper! He'd given careful consideration to what it would be, and the cook had honored his request.
You seem to be drawing parallels between this doe feller and Christ. Interesting.
for me, it's the pm system.. sylvia.
Tee he he.
for me, it's the pm system.. sylvia.
But I hadn't lost the argument.
for me, it's the pm system.. sylvia.
I see, so when you've lost the argument, you resort to namecalling.
