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Today, like so many days, I wished I could be a true believer. It would be so easy to be a true believer. If I could truly be a conservative, or radical environmentalist, or activist of whatever stripe life would have fewer inconsistencies and decisions. It's so hard to say that "yes you have point, but I can't agree with you on this and that and the other". That's not acceptable. You have to swallow the whole bundle if you want to be a part of a group. I've never totally agreed with the beliefs of any group and that's a lonely feeling. Maybe everyone has that feeling of loneliness. I don't know.
I started thinking about this again today as I checked that the links on my webrings were working ok since I moved so many pages. I cringe at some of the pages on the prolife webrings. Just pathetic, but these people believe, with me, that abortion is wrong, even though they also belive other things that I totally disagree with. These are the rings that irritate me the most but all the rings have websites with material that I disagree with. This doesn't mean I should stop believing in what I do but I have to realize that because someone agrees with me on one issue, they're going to agree with me on other issues, besides I do find out some strange things going through the webrings. Even the prolife rings have moments of joy as I reach places like The Prolife Atheist or Prolife Witches.
I've sat around today, other than doing five loads of laundry and vacuuming and washing dishes. I had five loads because I hadn't done laundry for two weeks since I was out of quarters and always forgot to get some when I was out. This is one of the disadvantages of using a laundromat in an apartment complex, where they rarely have bill changers. The grocery store doesn't sell rolls of quarters anymore but I can get them from the bank at the grocery store, it's just that I forget if I don't ask for quarters when I check out. Now that I usually do the auto checkout I can't even ask.
I also read "Maggody and the Moonbeams" by Joan Hess. Arly, the police chief of Maggody is, as usual, up to the point of exasperation with Buchanans, her mother and a group of women with shaved heads at a run down church camp. When one of the shaved heads is killed Arly finds her work difficult since not only do they all have shaved heads, they also say they have forgotten who they were and go only by a biblical name. It's a fun read, as all the Maggody books. I don't think people are really this stupid, but sometimes I wonder as I laugh.