News stories and memories colliding around rollercoasters, circuses and empty church buildings. Outrageous, glorious, both?

The unfolding of Chapter Seventeen's architecture and approach feels compelling. I’m thinking aloud here about potential areas of research.

I'm thinking aloud about Chapter Seventeen, but you're welcome to listen or read, climb in or create, write or study, collaborate or unplug — and carry on doing all the same things in the real world…

How can I say this loudly enough. There are sites that get the job done, and there are sites that don't think that was the point.

These things would only ever happen in church or in a crisis. (Like Tom Hanks with an ice skate — needs must. Sometimes. Other times it's inappropriate, dangerous, outrageous and misguided.) Hence my new fancy word, ship-wreck-less-ons. The kind of things any one of us might learn in Chapter Seventeen.

The whole Chapter Seventeen-ness of things seems highly unlikely and yet thoroughly Biblical at the same time. All the more reason to head for the Stage Door.

What in the world…? The Stage Door was only the beginning. There's an unfolding rabbit warren of possibilities by the look of it. According to the Keyholder, he doesn't know, and you'll need to see the Architect. But no one's seen the Architect.

My website looks quite standard until that menu item — Stage Door. It's what happens with a literary imagination birthed in Bible and Bagpuss.

My website's stage door reveals a Keyholder, an Architect, a Waiter… Please don't assume any of them are supposed to be God.

The Stage Door menu item. What's it doing on this author's website? It could be a rabbit hole…

There seems to be a Stage Door lurking in the menu bar. Where's the Keyholder when you need them?