Christ in the Tomb pt 2

Not only is the way of nature, the way of flesh, to kill of all traces of Christ, all holiness, but even the role of Christ is constantly attacked naturally by society. Consider that Jesus is increasingly thought of by many as a "good man," a prophet, a hippie, a great teacher, and a number of other roles that can be played by mere humans. His Deity is slowly eliminated, thereby reducing Him to a man, leaving Him in the tomb. We must remember and make known who He is.

Divestiture - Third Installment

On those occasions (by and large the trips to visit his parents in Tulia, in the Texas Panhandle) when he happened to encounter a peer from his youth, John rarely escaped questions regarding the coincidence of his financial success. He had by no means been talentless, nor was he ever lazy; he was salutatorian of 91 classmates and graduate summa cum laude from Texas Tech University (among those who applied for college (as many remained on the farms and ranches once their public-school tenure was complete) and made it in, a respected choice, as a good number of these had gone to regional junior colleges, and others had gone to Texas Tech or other universities to the south and east, while only two had gone out-of-state and one abroad). He had been a decent athlete during high school and had worked while getting his baccalaureate degree.

What John lacked for the longest time was a calling; passion escaped him invariable within weeks, sometimes days of acquiring a new pursuit. It became the trait by which he was known; a fellow student even once submitted a cartoon to the school newspaper in which a medium is consulted in order to predict John's next hobby, the medium replying with "this wouldn't be difficult even for a fake, because there's hardly anything left to pick from!" (This cartoon ended up generating trouble for the school, as some parents protested the "occult imagery.")

During his sophomore year of college he was changing his major for the second time when it occurred to him that a career counselor might be able to help him whom no ordinary, pre-specified work could satisfy. John, in a sense, felt dread at the thought of taking on a job created through the creativity and effort of someone else. It was all too clear to the counselor: John had the heart of an entrepreneur. That did not mean much to him right away, but it opened his mind to a new world of possibilities. His original attempts failed; he began with a lawn-mowing business, by which he hoped to gather enough clients to quit his other job, but he could not compete with larger companies in Lubbock. One of his roommates during his junior year was studying massage therapy, and so John convinced him to try to turn the house into a massage parlor with him. Again, he could not attract enough clients, especially in a college town. During his senior year he found himself writing a novel. It came to him while jogging one evening, a story about a police captain caught in the midst of espionage concerning a witness to a suspected murder and one of the officers on his force. He also met and started dating Kelly at this time. She and many of his friends thought the work was great and that he ought to publish it as soon as possible. He was even in the process of filling out the paperwork to apply for publishing with several companies (even though he wasn't supposed to, but who would find out?) he realized that this was the very thing he had dreaded all this time. He tore up the applications and threw them away right then.

He was, however, still determined to find a way to publish his work. It was at this time that he remembered a friend from Tulia, Sam Rizzo, who had left a year before him and gone to Austin to work for a bank after graduating from college. After saving up for a weekend trip, John and Kelly made their way down to Austin on a Thursday night. John walked into the bank the next morning and was almost immediately accosted by Sam, who was delighted to see a face from his past. Sam was only a customer service representative at the time, but he had, in anticipation of any possible impending promotion, already made himself fluent in all aspects of every financial product and service the bank offered. Sam led John through the process of determining the amount and type of loan he would need for the printing and assembly equipment he wanted, so that little remained to be done when John went to talk to the loan officer (who had some choice words for Sam later on).

John was approved for the loan, and soon he and Kelly, newly married and fresh out of college, were printing copies and petitioning bookstores as well as creating accounts on various market websites on the evenings and weekends. The business went very slow for the first year-and-a-half, with the pair selling only a few books per week at best, and sometimes none at all. John began working on his second book at this time.

They were well aware that John's parents had been plugging his book to their family, friends, and coworkers; what they were not aware of was that John's grandmother's cousin (whom he had met twice in his life) was a dear friend of a lady in Oklahoma City who hosted her own morning show. A viewer of the show wrote to her one day, asking for recommendations for books to get her father for his birthday, and John's book was mentioned. The orders increased that week such that John and Kelly were barely able to print and ship all of them in time. They saw that the book was tied to another on the hostess' list of recommendations on the market websites (in the form of "customers who bought this also bought..."). John called in sick to work on Monday morning from a motel room in Austin before meeting with Sam, now a loan officer, to negotiate another loan, this time for the purpose of purchasing another set of equipment and a tiny office.

Both of them quit their jobs and began printing the books full-time, and John completed his second book. Kelly's friend Thomas designed a website for A Priori Publishing, and almost immediately they received submission requests, despite not having asked for any. John ultimately chose his first client and added her first work to the company's list of products. They hired several college students, and there is little left to tell between then and the time of our narrative, other than that they moved the business to Austin after a few years, building their own small building and operating five assembly systems.

Even though Sam was now a branch manager of that bank, he still handled all dealings with A Priori Publishing himself. It was to Sam that John went today.

"Do you really think you're going to expand and add more clients? You seem to be pulling in the kind of income now that you always spoke of to me."

"It's not that. I need to safeguard against losing any of my existing ones. Simmons is getting old, and Fiorina just had a kid. I need to be sure I'm not going to have those less productive times and have to lay people off. I can add a couple more people, and I have a few employees asking for overtime, so I can make it work either way."

Sam nodded, not saying but understanding exactly what had prompted this decision in John.

"You remember my sister, Gemma, right?"

"Yeah, your older sister. I never knew her real well. I didn't see her much outside of when I went over to your house. She lives here too, doesn't she?"

Sam nodded again. "Well, her son Nathan's in his senior year of high school..."

"Oh yeah, I had forgotten about that. They got to that process right away, didn't they? Sorry, continue. Their son's a senior, and?"

"Well, he's a lot like you were back then."

John chortled. "You mean he's a kid that refuses to be satisfied and recklessly pursues what he thinks is freedom?"

"You know that's not what you were."

"Whatever."

"His parents also remind me of how your parents were then. Gemma has been asking me to come talk some "sense" into him."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you about that one."

"They'll be at the Andersons' houseboat party on the 4th."

John stared at Sam for a moment. "What, you want me to talk to him?"

"If fate allows it. It might be the best thing for him."

"And it might just drive him further into his dissatisfaction. He can't see things like I do. He won't believe a word of it."

"Believe a word of what? John, you've made it! You're your own boss, and you make great money."

"You have no idea how many times I've stood on the razor's edge between losing everything and getting by. One wrong step and it's all gone. And now...now I've lost the one thing that would have stayed with me, regardless."

Sam began to feel very uncomfortable. "Kelly's death was not your fault."

"I know. I don't know... but you see why I say I need to expand. I'm on that edge again, or I could be very soon. I'm sorry if I've ruined your day. I'll see you later."

"You haven't. Take it easy, and call me if want to talk or have some drinks or anything like that."

Outside, John climbed into his car and sat for a few minutes, staring at the highway before him and the hills on the other side of it. He thought about what it would mean to lose his business.

"God, how much more is going to be taken away?"

A thought approached from the back of his mind, arguably his own, but in a tone that made him fearfully unsure.

'Even if it were lost, things of far greater value remain with me.'

He started his car and pulled out of the parking lot. He was hungry, so he drove out to the moneyed enclave known as The Dominion.

Divestiture - Second Installment

At around eight-thirty sunlight was beginning to penetrate the window blinds. John had constantly argued in favor of getting wooden blinds or heavy curtains, but Kelly loved being woken by the sun. He rolled over and covered his face to block the light, but by now he was awake enough that the sound from the television kept him awake. As he sat up to reach for the remote control it occurred to him that the sound had probably been influencing his dreams throughout the night. An early local church service was on. He tried to watch, but an unrest grew within him, until he finally turned it off and went into the kitchen.

Besides, he was hungry. He quickly made coffee and eggs and ran outside to get the newspaper. There was very little in it that truly interested him, but still read every word on every page. He then walked into the living room and began searching through his collection of films. At length he though better of it and sat down in his study, busying himself with paperwork.

He had not missed a Sunday in church for 8 years, nor had he ever worked on paperwork for 6 hours straight in the 5 years since he had started A Priori Publishing. On this day time meant nothing, and work was now the most precious thing to him.

At around four o'clock, however, he stood up to stretch and looked down at what he had done. It occurred to him that he was now left with little to do while at his office for the next few days. It was probably time to stop for the day. 'Besides,' he told himself, 'I need fresh air.' There was no need for subsequent deliberation; he knew exactly where he wanted to go.

The man arrived at the mall dressed as a teenager might be: a t-shirt, jean shorts, and sandals. This deviation from his casual wear of choice, a business-casual look, did not reflect the natural apathy for appearance felt by a man on a day off, but rather demonstrated an intentional apathy, an apathy which acted as a means to blissful avoidance of truth.

John loitered in various stores and tried a Chinese dish he had never had in the food court. For once the large crowds did not bother him. In fact, he cherished them. In most faces there was contentment. Most of those who surrounded him had likely not experienced agony as he had. He could become lost in that sea of faces and the collective contentment could wash away his sorrows.

One face, however, was terribly distressed. The woman, appearing to be in her late twenties, seemed to be frantically searching for something or someone. As she came near his table he called to her.

"Ma'am, can I help you?"

She stopped and quickly blushed. "I'm sorry. I'm looking for my son."

"I can help you look for him." She eyed him suspiciously. "Oh, I'm sorry, I know how that must have sounded." From his wallet he produced a business card. "Here. To hold me accountable."

Still taken aback, she replied, "Alright. My son is about this tall, with green eyes and dirty blonde hair. His name is Dylan. If you find him, meet me at the top of that escalator." She quickly ran off. John left the remainder of his meal on the table and headed for the escalator. As he descended to the lower floor he saw her rushing into a small toy store.

'Perhaps,' he though, 'but a young boy loves exploration.' Behind and to the left of the escalator was a gift store. Upon entering he looked to the right into a maze of displays of electronic gadgets of all sorts. Sure enough, a young boy, fitting the height that the woman had indicated, and with dirty blonde hair, was there, playing, in the midst of so many highly functional devices, with a Newton's Cradle. None of the other adults seemed to be attending to him.

John ran back outside of the store and looked around. He spotted her heading in his direction, but not exactly in his direction, and a bi-directional river of shoppers flowed between them. He waved his arms back and forth, but to no avail. 'What was her name?' She hadn't told him. Panicking, he drew a sharp breath.

"Hey!"

Most nearby turned toward him, but few stopped, and none remained in place for more than a few seconds. Fortunately she noticed him and ran up to him. "I think I found him. In here." They both entered the store and he pointed out the boy he had seen. She sighed and quickly moved toward her son, embracing him.

"Dylan!"

"Mommy!"

"Don't you ever run off on me like that again!"

"I'm sorry!" he cried.

"It's ok, honey. You scared Mommy. Thank you so much, sir."

"It's John. John Peterson."

"I know. I saw it on your card. Rachel Miller." They shook hands. He was momentarily surprised and impressed at the firmness of her grip. "Is there any way I can repay you?"

"That's alright, ma'am. No need for that."

Somewhere inside John a feeling of guilt had slowly grown. He had missed church; he had basically ignored God completely that day. Perhaps this was his chance to make things right.

"Actually, I'd like to invite you to my church next Sunday."

Rachel smiled. "Dylan and I already have a church."

John's chest quickly deflated of that grand sense of purpose. "Oh. Well, then, it was good to meet you, and I'm sorry it wasn't under different circumstances. Glad I got to help, though."

"If you'd like, we can join you for a Sunday." This took a lot for Rachel to say, as will be evident later. "Where do you go?"

"Cornerstone Baptist. It's on Mopac, just north of Steck."

Rachel nodded. "And what time?"

"Ten-thirty."

"Alright, we'll be there. Thanks again. I cannot tell you how thankful I am. God bless you, John." With that she turned and led Dylan up the escalator. John went home immediately, making up for lost time in prayer along the way.

Quick note

My last post was titled "The Covetous -First Installment." I have decided early on that "Divestiture" works better as the title of the novel into which this hopefully turns into. The second installment is coming along nicely and will hopefully be completed by next weekend.

The Covetous - First Installment

The human psyche possesses the curious capacity for a number of self-perpetuating behaviors. Some are harmless, such as, perhaps, for a man, forgetting one morning to shave before leaving for the day. One that would be considered more serious is that of staying up too late. The most serious type of these behaviors, in contrast to those of lesser import, however, require no outward change, no physical manifestation, taking place entirely within the mind. An example of this might be comparing ones own attributes to those of others, whether with a favorable or unfavorable light cast upon either. In each of these cases it is only an extrinsic motivator, such as the demands of a work schedule, the desperate pleas of family and friends, or even the deliberate removal of oneself from the familiar, the denial of normalcy (which is the bane of inner attention and the refuge of the self-perpetuating behavior), which can bring the mind to correct itself.

It was one of these, of the most serious variety, which had been set in motion within our hero, John Peterson. In his case, it began with the understanding that the news which he had received that afternoon should have made him glad. His life had been shattered some nine weeks before, a great piece of his soul stripped away while she ran along Spicewood Springs Road in the cooler hours of the evening, drinking in the red and purple which had been painted into the clouds, as she always did. He imagined, hoped that the most beautiful moment had arrived just before she reached Mesa Drive, so that it would have been her final perception in this life.

Nine weeks ago she had been cut down, and today the murderer had been caught. John knew that he should be happy, but he could not find himself experiencing any such feeling. Knowing that he ought to be happy drove him further into despondency. He became even further distressed knowing that his inability to express any positive emotions was also spoiling the afternoon for Aaron and Shae, his brother and sister-in-law. John had driven to Houston that morning in order to spend the day with them, and had received the news via phone from Detective Carlisle shortly after arriving in Houston. The three of them had still visited the aquarium as planned, as well as dinner at Aaron and Shae's house with a neighboring couple, and when the latter pair had left had Shae put on a film for them to watch.

All the while what seemed to everyone, including John himself, to be a steady recovery over the past nine weeks was unraveled within an afternoon. About forty minutes into the film John abruptly stood up, excused himself, and quickly left, unresponsive to Aaron and Shae's protests. He did not stop for coffee on his way out of the city, as he always had on such trips, but drove in automatic fashion, his thoughts completely focused on banishing memories of Kelly from his mind.

He stopped on the west side of Brenham, pulling over at a gas station. He parked in front of the door of the store and walked out close to the highway. He had been sweating, and the humidity of the coastal plains, being reinforced by recent storms, did not help; though it was nearly eleven by this time, well past sunset, much of the heat from the late July afternoon remained. He looked up at the stars, but could not hold that gaze for long, being reminded of the old tales of the stars and the dead. Headlights appeared over the crest to the east, and the thought flashed in his mind. Perhaps he would be like so many deer. No, not like deer, because deer know only that the road is an open space into which they may run to try to escape; John sought a different form of escape within that everlasting instant.

He bought a root beer and continued home. The silence was too much; he selected one of the CDs he had owned before they had married, composed by one of the bands she had not enjoyed and at times playfully mocked. He, or whatever remained of him at this point, became lost in the heavy grooves and complex time-signatures. Nevertheless, the silence called to him all the while, beckoning him to that dark void of divestiture.

Once home he quickly showered and went to bed, leaving the television on whatever channel it happened to be set to, craving the noise it would provide.

Christ in the Tomb

In Dostoevsky's novel The Idiot, a character named Ippolit describes his perspective of Holbein's painting, entitled "Christ in the Tomb." It is, he says, "an out-and-out depiction of the body of a man who has endured endless torments even before the crucifixion[.]" He goes on to tell in detail how the effects of the tortures endured by Christ were captured by Holbein in this painting. Eventually he points out the point of this painting: "...if a corpse like that...was seen by all his disciples...how could they have believed, look at such a corpse, that the martyr would rise again?...one has the impression of nature as some enormous, implacable, dumb beast, or...in the guise of a vast modern machine which has pointlessly seized, dismembered, and devoured...a great and priceless being, a being worth all of nature and all of her laws, worth the entire earth-which indeed was perhaps created solely to prepare for the advent of that being!"

Through this description by his character Ippolit, Dostoevsky gives us a reminder of the undeniable monstrosity that is the world; the very God which created it and sustains its existence is put through such agony of body and soul, and then killed in the most humiliating fashion, once He has allowed it to occur.

The world (encompassing both Satan and the passions of the flesh) seeks no peace with holiness, and recognises no authority other than itself; there is no compromise with it. This is why Christ declared that no one can serve two masters; sin will continually seek full control and the destruction of piety, humility, faithfulness, prayer, and all other virtues of a life connected to Christ. While Christ suffered and lay dead, the world eagerly sought to kill Him, and reveled in that death, before His glorious resurrection.

(Alan Meyer's translation of идиот was quoted in this piece)

(The painting described can be seen at http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/b4/Hans_Holbein-_The_Body_of_the_Dead_Christ_in_the_Tomb.JPG)

Let Us Ignite an Enduring Flame

Many libertarians, conservatives, and even moderates are now looking to what is happening in response to the passage of "healthcare" legislation (not to mention the government takeover of the student loan industry): states passing their own legislation to be exempt from the bill's many mandates and taxes, state attorneys general and law firms (such as Mark Levin's) poised with lawsuits against the bill's constitutionality, the Congressional races in November. While these are battles that need to be happening, we should also look at the bigger picture of the continued (indeed, one that will continue until the return of Christ, or something else causes America to cease as it is) struggle that we must undertake.

Electing conservative congressmen and women in fall 2010 and 2012 and a conservative president in 2012, while most likely to prevent further damages to our economy and our personal liberty, is merely a wadded-up shirt meant to stop the bleeding. There must be a shift of discourse in our conversation in this country. President Kennedy said "Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country." The essence of liberty upon which this country was founded was being able to stand on one's own two feet, to, at the end of life, look back and say "There may have been a lot of hard times, times when I thought I wouldn't make it through, but I worked hard and got through it on my own."

There must be a great espousal of individual responsibility. Ben Franklin said "Idleness and Pride Tax with a heavier Hand than Kings and Parliaments; If we can get rid of the Former we may easily bear the Latter." It is true; who, the government having met the needs thereof for any considerable period of time, would vote against his benefactor? It takes a special kind of person, a particular brand of resolve and fortitude to break the bonds of dependency; it is this type of person we must extol. It is the kind of person our children and our peers must see in us. In my high school senior English class there was at one time an assignment in which we were writing our opinions on the social issue of our choice. One girl presented hers as such: "As you can see, I'm an African-American, and today I want to express my opposition to affirmative action. If I succeed, I want it to be on my own merits, not because of my skin color. I don't want to be hired because the government says I have to be hired" (paraphrased). It is with this attitude America's future generations will succeed; without it, we are at the mercy of the government.

We must understand what humility entails, and exalt the mindset. If one wishes his lot in life were better, he should pray and apply himself to improve it. If he wishes to be charitable and improve the lives of others, he should go about it with diligence and accept the help that willingly comes from others with the same vision, while extending the liberty not to be involved in the effort to those unwilling or unable. The "Tea Partiers" and conservative groups have been labeled as "selfish" for not supporting legislation purported to assist those in need. While there may be a great number of selfish persons amongst the ranks of the opposed, this accusation is neither just nor appropriate. In a constitutional republic, by means of votes and contact with representatives (or lack thereof), all citizens are part of the governing process; therefore, to endorse such socialist policies is to deny one's neighbor the liberty not to take part in one's own vision of improving the lives of others.

Ben Franklin also said, "I think the best way of doing good to the poor, is not making them easy in poverty, but leading or driving them out of it." The Gospels and other religious texts command us to take care of the poor, but improvement of life is not just about having one's needs met. We must begin to go about our work with true gratefulness, knowing that work is not simply a necessary evil for making ends meet and possibly buying ourselves comfort, but that meaningful work in itself shapes us into a better person, and in doing so, realize that providing work for the poor provides a much more profound and lasting impact than simply giving them money, food, etc.

As for those who neglect their own care, we must warn them of the destructive consequences of their actions and pray for them, but ultimately realize that it is their choice to make, and be there willing to help when they have fallen hard and are ready to make changes in their lives. As Thomas Jefferson said, "The care of every man's soul belongs to himself. But what if he neglect the care of it? Well what if he neglect the care of his health or his estate, which would more nearly relate to the state. Will the magistrate make a law that he not be poor or sick? Laws provide against injury from others; but not from ourselves. God himself will not save men against their wills."

We must stand and squarely face our challenges. The apostle Paul wrote "suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope."

We must take the time to listen to the ideas of all with openness, but also with scrutiny. I do not claim to have exhausted the list of what needs to happen with us, and recognize that there are many others who have valuable contributions as well. However, take the words of none, even of mine, to be absolute, and be ever vigilant. If we maintain our sense of self-worth, duty to others, perseverance, and deference to the liberties of others, we will be able to cling to what is true and reproach that which is not, and, perhaps, reach the point where our senses automatically revile messages at the first hint of falsehood.

Again, we must never cease. As Paul also wrote, "Therefore let him who thinks he stands take heed, lest he fall." We must continue to fight for freedom and give of ourselves of our fellow man as long as we have breath in our bodies, and pray that others are struck ablaze by our flame.

Idols

You know. Those wooden or metal things that those weird people back in the day used to worship as if they were living, powerful beings.

The Israelites turned to them over and over throughout their history. One often wonders, when reading or hearing about it, how they could do this when they've visibly seen the supernatural power of God at work many times.

But let us examine the modern situation. Few people will ever bow before or pray to object anymore, but if you ask many Christians today, especially (in my experience) Protestants, they will tell you that the old idols have been traded in for new ones: money, power, sex, fitness, or whatever other things a person might pursue to excess.

That may be true, but let's think about what this implies. Why do people chase after these things (things which they also chased when wooden idols were still prevalent)? The answer is simple: it makes them feel good. It makes them feel complete. So is their god pleasure? Is their god completeness? What is it that they are seeking to worship? To me, this response says more about the Christians making the statement than anything else. If one believes that the world is turning to idols for comfort, completeness, or what-have-you, then Christians are turning to God for the same thing.

That's what an idol is. A substitute, or reminder, of God, and a thing that one relies upon to commune with God, turning to it first, instead of imploring the Lord and His teachings, first and foremost.

Idols can begin as very good things. I know I often write about the importance of silence as a means to escape noise and to begin the process of prayer. I, and others I know, love to escape civilisation to places of beautiful scenery (I shall forgo a plug for the Texas Hill Country here) in order to, perhaps among other things, be with the Lord. But once we begin to see these things as the only means by which we can communicate with the Lord, then they have become idols. Church becomes an idol. Silence becomes an idol. Nature becomes an idol. The Mysteries, Communion in particular, can become idols. Icons can become idols. Even faith itself can become an idol.

To expound upon the last statement, let me ask the reader to consider how many times (s)he has heard the phrase "My faith got me through the tough times" in some form or another. Though it is true that it is impossible to please God without faith, it is also impossible for faith to sustain anyone without God involved.

The trappings of this world are not idols, unless God's purpose is to provide comfort and protection to mankind. They are merely rudimentary elements of the veil of maya.

A New Energy Possibility?

http://www.world-nuclear.org/info/inf62.html

Thorium is a naturally-occurring, slightly radioactive metal discovered in 1828 by the Swedish chemist Jons Jakob Berzelius, who named it after Thor, the Norse god of thunder. It is found in small amounts in most rocks and soils, where it is about three times more abundant than uranium. Soil commonly contains an average of around 6 parts per million (ppm) of thorium.

Thorium-232 (Th-232) decays very slowly (its half-life is about three times the age of the Earth) but other thorium isotopes occur in its and in uranium's decay chains. Most of these are short-lived and hence much more radioactive than Th-232, though on a mass basis they are negligible.

Thorium, as well as uranium, can be used as a nuclear fuel. Although not fissile itself, Th-232 will absorb slow neutrons to produce uranium-233 (U-233)a, which is fissile (and long-lived). The irradiated fuel can then be unloaded from the reactor, the U-233 separated from the thorium, and fed back into another reactor as part of a closed fuel cycle.

In one significant respect U-233 is better than uranium-235 and plutonium-239, because of its higher neutron yield per neutron absorbed. Given a start with some other fissile material (U-233, U-235 or Pu-239) as a driver, a breeding cycle similar to but more efficient than that with U-238 and plutonium (in normal, slow neutron reactors) can be set up. (The driver fuels provide all the neutrons initially, but are progressively supplemented by U-233 as it forms from the thorium.) However, there are also features of the neutron economy which counter this advantage. In particular the intermediate product protactinium-233 (Pa-233)a is a neutron absorber which diminishes U-233 yield.

Over the last 40 years there has been interest in utilising thorium as a nuclear fuel since it is more abundant in the Earth's crust than uranium. Also, all of the mined thorium is potentially useable in a reactor, compared with the 0.7% of natural uranium, so some 40 times the amount of energy per unit mass might theoretically be available (without recourse to fast neutron reactors)

I think the article speaks for itself. I, for one, will be keeping my eye on this.