15 He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”
Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”
16 Jesus said to her, “Mary.”
She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”).

I got to tell you it's a lot of begats in general. I drift a little. I'm trying here. I listen on the train and at night. I had AI make me a nice audio playlist with images for each book from Doré. They're kind of crabbed and gray on the iPhone, though. Everything is just a robed shape.

Anyway I don't know why exactly I keep reading the Bible. I think I'm just going back to infrastructure in general, since the world makes so little sense—watching an entire society commit suicide is hard and baffling. It draws one toward poems and proverbs and foundational narratives.

On a whim I tried Obadiah. Can't remember a single thing that happens. But I've also been plowing through the New Testament and I got to this part in John and man. I mean John nailed it. What a moment. Can't get it out of my head. It's his mother! She doesn't recognize him. She knows her son is dead. She just wants the body. But when she recognizes him it's not her boy. It's as teacher. Fifty million ideas at once in there. Two thousand years of unpacking easy. You get a story locked down like this and you can build societies regardless of oceans. This happened and now what are we going to do with you? And for so much of the world, looking up from an empty plate or from a hard pew in a cold room, it just sings.

John 20:11-18