in that 'my' god seems to be of a different nature than some would portray him on ceilings and in glass and stuff. even my dad said he thought there might be one but not the same kind as my psycho sb was spouting. perhaps human interpretations/experiences are merely shadowy and imperfect reflections of the truth they are trying to seek; and perhaps it's the wise person who recognizes that, whatever the flavor, there's truth to be found...

so will ya quit calling me nuts? sheeesh already! actually, i don't care, that's your prerogative. ;)