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False Cause

About a mile into my jog tonight, when I had a view of the southwestern sky, I saw a thunderstorm approaching. Occasionally, lightning would flash, and the closer the storm came, the closer I hugged the tree-lined sides of the streets. The lighting won’t hit me, I reassured myself, it’s still miles away; besides, I’m not doing anything stupid such as holding a 9-iron above my head or crouching beside a lone tree on a hill. I did wonder if my shoes might make me build a positive charge and turn me into an attractor, but I put that worry out of mind. Do the right thing, I thought, and nobody gets hurt. Then, nearly home, a bolt flashed directly overhead. The thunder was instantaneous, loud, and rolling, and it surprised me so much I jumped. Suddenly, I laughed. Lightning doesn’t weed out the stupid from the smart; it is what it is, randomness made real. Everything I had been telling myself was absurd.



Luther would disagree with you… he would say that it strikes those who have an aura of election upon them.

Luthor would disagree, too… he would say that it strikes those whom he’s pointed the lightning machine his evil army of engineers constructed. But that’s neither here nor there.

Luther was quite the brash promiser, wasn’t he?