“Captain, since you asked for my conclusion, let’s lay it out- building on John 1: 1-5, Proverbs 2: 6-7, and your layers.  I’ve held off till now, per your request, so here’s where my thoughts land, open for our discussion.”  CS01’s comms crackle with static, computer readout screens flash to life, words scroll, point by point.  Moose reads through carefully, piece by piece.  The readouts read: - Language and the Word; John 1: 1-5 (in the beginning was the Word.. and the Word

“Language is on my mind, CS01.” Moose closes the panel he’s been working on, the hum of the mechanical screwdriver echoing softly through the void.  The last screw spins in; he steps back, inspecting the CS01’s hull, the metal worn but faithful under starlight. Deep space stretches around him — thin and endless, like butter spread too thin over bread.  The edge of the visible galaxy hovers somewhere ahead — invisible the closer you get, unreachable the further you go. A parad

“So yes, Romans 13 and Paul’s teaching on respecting government is on my mind.”  Moose’s voice is steady, almost meditative, as he crouches along the CS01’s side.  The tether hums faintly against the hull, vibrating with every movement.  He’s pulled off a side panel, wires floating like seaweed int eh void.  Inside, a circuit board- slippery, fried, elusive- spits out small blue sparks that dance like fireworks across his visor. “Captain, I love that Romans 13 is on your mind

“What is a deconstructionist?” CS01’s voice came soft through the comms—synthetic, curious, almost hesitant.  Moose leaned back in his chair, one boot propped up on the desk, coffee steaming beside a flickering console light.  He smiled a little, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “To put it plainly—in boring, everyday words—a deconstructionist is a Progressive Christian pastor,” he said. “They’re heretics.” He spoke with the slow, clean precision of a scalpel at work.  “They t

“Aye, Captain! Systems locked on.  Black Square Anomaly stable, Moose coordinates confirmed.  Ready for your orders.  What’s the next move?” Moose laughed out loud, the kind of laugh that comes from somewhere deep— the kind that shakes a man out of his head and back into the world.  The line had caught him off guard.  He hadn’t heard “Aye, Captain!” in years — not since his father’s voice had carried across the deck of a half-rotten fishing trawler off the Carolina coast, sal

“What are you thinking about,” CS01 asks as the ship cuts through the fractured light of the Black Square Anomaly, the engines humming low, the stars folding like origami around them. “Marxist social concepts.  Combined with postmodern philosophy.” Moose makes his way to the commissary, trench coat shrugged off his shoulders.  The cabin lights flicker cyan over the metal floor.  He tosses a handful of asparagus into a pan with a drizzle of olive oil, cracks pepper across the

The anomaly came out of nowhere.  A perfect absence.  A shape so dark it made the stars around it look afraid. “CS01, what is that?” Her voice cut through the comms, tight and reverent.  “Negative, Captain.  It’s not a feed.”  A pause, static, then the soft hum of her processors.  “It’s a physical rift in spacetime.  The anomaly is projecting a two-dimensional slice of a three-dimensional black-hole event horizon.  The cracks are gravitational lensing.  Light from behind the

Proverbs 23: 1-5 “When you sit down to eat with a ruler, consider carefully what is before you; and put a knife to your throat if you are a man given to appetite.  Do not desire his delicacies, for they are deceptive food.  Do not overwork to be rich; because of your own understanding, cease!  Will you set your eyes on that which is not?  For riches certainly make themselves wings; they fly away like an eagle toward heaven.” CS01 drifts into the docking cradle of The First La

The song on Moose’s mix skips tracks with a soft click- static, pause, then rhythm.  “Weird Science?”  CS01’s voice rises through the...

Moose sits at the helm of the CS01.  Several Bibles are spread open across the desk before him, their pages rippling softly in the low...

Moose’s boots hit the grate.  The sound echoes through the narrow corridor, followed by the hiss of the torch spitting sparks that...

Infinite space hangs over his shoulder.  Moose crouches along the hull of the CS01, hands buried in wire— pulling, patching, soldering...

Moose sits at the console in the cockpit of the CS01, his hat brim low, shadows cutting across his face. Several Bibles lie open in...

Entertainment: - Amusement or diversion provided especially by performers, something diverting or engaging, such as a public performance,...

Moose’s helm was a curiosity to see.  The screens and gauges, buttons and switches, all shared the space with books, open and shut,...

Somewhere in time… Somewhen in space… The CS01, an intergalactic cargo starship, hurtles through the cosmos at near-light speed.  Its...

Please consider this a Turning Point for the show.

Morning! Raises his cup of coffee It is Wednesday May 21st of 2025 in the nation’s capitol.  It is a cool late spring morning and...

Currently finalizing the new study on faith! Recommended reading is Hebrews and Deuteronomy 6.

Morning! Raises his cup of coffee It is Friday May 9th of 2025.  We have a rainy cool morning here in the nation’s capital with a high of...