Hullo. Me, Hunny back again.
I would like to fank Auntie Patricia for the comment. It is my furst one and I am proud to hab one. I know Belinda gets them, but she hassa bigger mouth than I do.
Ennyway, I am berry happy to hab a commint ob my own, esecially a nice one (which, come to fink ob it, issa only kind dat Auntie Patricia makes, but dat is okay wif me!)that I can link to my own liddle series ob blogs.
I would also like to thank Belinda for lettin me post to her blog and be a guest glogger (even though she drives me nutz.).
Hab a snak while you read dis. No sense in not habbin a snak when you hab the time. It doesn't hab to be a big one or a sweet one; you don't need Craisins alla time. Just a liddle sumfing to "fill uppa corners" assa great writer once writed. I prefer hay. Want sum? Be my guest. Dere is plenty. Maman is good about allus habbin hay heer.
One thing: Spain. I dunno where it is. I fink it is ober near where Maman and Dadda libbed bifore heer. As Belinda an Missy sed wast nite, it don madder where it is, because when bad things happen, they are just BAD, no madder where they go on.
As I sed bifore, I am twelbe yeers old. I am berry old fora bunny and I can tell you this: there is no point in killin. No point in takin whut does not belong to you. If it issn't yours - you kin only care FOR it an ABOUD it, you can't TAKE it. Dis includes life.
You can't gib life; you can't take it away frum sumbun else.
You don't like whut sumbun is doin, den nip dem inna butt. It hurts, but it won't kill them.
These peeble who putta bomb onna twains are no good. They hab no god. Dey fink dey do, but they bedder take a good look atta god they say they are followin, cos he don wook like enny real god. In fact, he wooks a wot wike a god dat will just fade away into nothing if nobunny pay him attenshun. The real God stays around just cos He is who He is. He don *need* followers who go around killin in His Name. He is powerful enuf to do His own killin in His Own Name if He wanted to. Da thing is, He doesn't want to enny killin.
And this outta be a cloo.
Like Belinda sed, hoomins seem drawed to Evil, but only, I notice, if it has no Face and no Name. If hoomins ever saw Evil's face or heard the real name, they would run for their burrows. But hoomins don't know, they only think they know.
It's like what hoomins think aboud rabbits. Hoomins don't fink about rabbits much until dey meet one. Wike me. Den suddenly, rabbits hab a face anna name. Dey are "Hunny". Dey are "old an honourable gentlemen ob dere tribe". Suddenly, rabbits go frum being rabbits to bein part obba "tribe" ob dere own.
We habba face. We are us. We hab diggity. We habba name and we hab honour.
Hoomins need names in order to care. Names hab power. You tell your name to your friend. Inna Warren, da furst thing we do is tell our name. We are nebber "da noo rabbit" or ennything like that. We hab names. Each one ob us is special wif his or her own name.
So mebbe when you go out today, tell sumbun your name. Say, "Hi. I am ______. Whut's your name?"
Cos it is hard to kill sumbun whose name you know.
Hullo. I'm me... Hunny. Whut's your name?