Eschatopredicatelogic and Hoffnungsloesigkeit

For all X, Hopeless(X). Except that the aforementioned is inadmissable on grounds of 2 Corinthians 4:7-12; 16-18 (NIV). What is impossible is *necessary*. And *true*, in the light of God. Why does it always feel so not-quite-graspable, so unendingly antelucan, though?

"Wer, wenn ich schriee...?"

Well, I know Wer, but how about Venn? A diagram would always be helpful. Or an angel. One that wasn't "schrecklich." Where *did* Rilke get that idea? I'm not in a Bavarian Castle, nor does the idea much appeal, even in the game of Anywhere But Here. Maybe you had to be there. Night -- and there's night, when the ice weasels come -- really drains our spiritual strength. Fiat lux. Hear that, sun?