August 16, 2009

  • Slave Labor, It’s a job…

    The curse of malfunctioning equipment is upon me. It seems, whenever I am stress and/or exhausted, electrical devices breakdown around me. The dryer just died this week, taking out a circuit breaker with it. We’ve been line drying our stuff, though that’s problematic with my allergies. I also sucked the life out of my IPod in a matter of three hours the other day. It simply stopped working as I sat listening to it on break, though I had only taken it off of the dock that morning and it should have had a full charge. And speaking of the dock, the bass/treble has gone kablooey. My music is oddly muted now, and I have no money for a new one. For almost two weeks, the interior lights in my car were not working before miraculously snapping back on last week. The security light had been on for a month before fixing itself at about the same time as the interior lights. Now there’s something wonky with my car stereo. It’s hard to describe aside from the fact that only half the display lights up and where it used to stop playing as soon as I opened my car door to get out, now it continues to play until I actually turn it off. All I would need is to leave it playing to drain my battery while at work. Last night when I drove home, all the streetlights on my side of the road were out.

    I haven’t destroyed my computer yet, thank goodness.

    I’m taking a personal day tomorrow to go apply at a security company to be a dispatcher. Oddly enough, I had just been talking to my mother about seeing about getting a job like this and she had said there was a place nearby that she drove past on certain days. I looked in the paper when we got home from grocery shopping, and there it was, the exact place she had mentioned. It’s about as far away from the house as my current job, but far less traffic since it’s not a mall. I can live with that. Maybe even graveyard shift… That’d be nice.

    I called my boss and blamed it all on my sister. I said that she was preggers (true) and has a bad cold (true) and that she plans to go to the doctor tomorrow (lie) and so I have to watch my nephew (lie). I don’t think she would have been so understanding if I had told her the truth. lol But I have really had it with that place. Last night was nightmarish. Weird customers… this one guy who comes in all the time and mutters under his breath while reading home magazines… (muttering yeah, baby yeah in a gravelly voice… CREEEEEEEEEEPY) and another lady who’s mother died last year and her sister is trying to take the “entire estate.” I got her whole life story, not that I wanted it. She dug out a pocket full of tacky jewelry that she plans to sell because she can’t find a job and she “pissed away the $6000″ she receive as her part of the inheritance. I feel for her, but why was she telling me this? And there’s the possibility that a vice president might visit at some point soon, so an email was sent around with a list of things that might irk the man. First on the list was to make sure the hinges of the front door were not rusty, and if they were, to scour and oil them.

    Scrub the rusty hinges. SCRUB THE RUSTY HINGES?

    You have got to be kidding me. My manager has had her father in repainting the walls so that the huge holes and slashes evident in the thirteen year old paint job from when the store first opened would be less noticeable. But rusty hinges? Please. I’m sorry. Remodel the store, give us more hours to get all the regular crap done so we can maybe get to inane items like scrubbing rusty hinges (and dusting the top of the DVD fixtures which no one can even see, let alone reach)… don’t make a list of asinine chores that we have no time for between our regular tasks and cramming product (that we won’t even read because it’s just that bad) down the customers’ throats. Hey, there’s a quota. It’s certainly not by choice!

    Good news is though… everyone has been telling me I take things too personally. That’s why I get migraines and stomach problems… because I have too much integrity and so when something isn’t done to my satisfaction, (I don’t get to complete a task in the time or to the degree I’d like) I take it personally. Well fine. I just won’t care about my job at all any more. I’ll just be like every other worker in America, right? Positive work ethic? Nope, guess I don’t need to care about my job to do it. Who cares if I was raised to believe that anything worth doing was worth doing right. I decided all this yesterday and guess what? My stomach didn’t hurt at all while I was at work. So I just have to stop caring in order to do my job. Seems to me I might as well not be there at all if that’s the case. Don’t you agree? At this point, I’ve basically talked myself out of my job. It’s no longer an issue of getting my work done. Now it’s an issue of caring if I get my work done, which I don’t. Apparently none of the other stores can be bothered to get their crap done in a timely manner, but we’re almost always on time. Despite that, I still get harangued by the management to do things their way, when my way is obviously working better than their way. So… I just won’t worry about getting things done on time any more. I’ll do it their way.

    Sounds like a plan…

    Man I hope I get this security dispatch job tomorrow. At this point, I don’t think I should be working with the general public any more. Working security appeals to me. I like the idea of helping protect people. My current job… I feel like a useless lump of human waste. Well, you know… that’s how they treat me so it’s not a surprise that’s how I feel.

    I was thinking of writing a book and calling it “Life in the Trenches: how corporate America killed retail; a memoir.” Does anyone know how I would go about seeing what percentage of the holiday suicide rate is composed of retail workers? Because I really do think it’s probably a very large proportion. and the public, which is composed of an inordinate number of retail schmucks like myself, should be aware of the health risk of allowing corporate America to rule the roost. I am convinced I have post traumatic stress syndrome. I wouldn’t be surprised if many people in retail do.

August 2, 2009

  • Stress

    You may have noticed a lack of updates this week. Frankly, I haven’t had the energy or the good health to sit and post anything. My stomach’s been hurting for a couple weeks now. I’ve always had pretty good digestion if I stay away from things to which I’m allergic. When my stomach has hurt in the past, I would just eat something, anything, and usually it would go away. This won’t go away. It ranges from nausea to outright pain. Nausea is what I feel most of the time, except when I’m at work, when it sometimes ranges into sharp jabbing I-don’t-want-to-be-here-anymore pain. The past few days, I’ve been on the verge of puking every time I go to work. I’ve been like that all day today and it’s my day off. Eating something doesn’t help any more.

    And the migraines. I’m used to headaches of all sort and size. I can deal with most of them. I’m used to the pain. But I haven’t had so many migraines since high school. It’s every day, sometimes instant stabs of pain that seem to bubble up from inside my skull and scamper across my brain like cockroaches of anxiety before finding a dark shadow to hide in before they scurry on out again. Sometimes just on one side or another, or in my neck and back of my skull making me worry about Meningitis, or in the front, making me worry about stroke. It runs in my family. In all likelihood, it’s just a matter of time.

    And the panic attacks, which I hadn’t had at all since I was in high school; when I was dealing with the constant stress of being bullied. Now I’m having them because we’re being bullied and belittled by corporate. Mostly I have them when I’m at home and even think about work. I’ve been having them when I’m trying to sleep, and I start thinking about work the next day. Not very conducive to a restful night’s sleep. I told my boss I’ve been having anxiety attacks, and she said, “Oh, well I worry about work too.” I said, “No… my heart’s trying to beat its way out of my chest. I’m sweating bullets, and I’m sick to my stomach. An ANXIETY attack. Not Worry.” She doesn’t get it. I told her I updated my resume and the reason I put for leaving my current job (when I finally find a replacement) was “ethical.” Talking to my boss does no good. She doesn’t get it. This job is killing me.

    I gave myself a goal of being out of there by October. By the end of October, I need to quit that job whether I have a replacement or not because I am convinced that staying through the two months of holiday shopping frenzy will kill me. I worry about a heart attack with my anxiety attacks, and I worry about a stroke with my headaches, but hey, who knows, maybe I’ll die of a bleeding ulcer before either one of those happen. My brother’s on SSI for mental issues… I keep wondering if I could apply for my obvious work-induced post-traumatic stress syndrome. Something has to change or I’m not going to be good for anything any more soon. I’ll have a nervous breakdown and just leave… wander off the job in a fugue state and forget this miserable life. Selective amnesia. I wonder if my subconscious could invent a new personality for me. I’d like to be empress. I’m sure the drugs at whatever asylum I’m sent to will keep me in a cozy little fantasy world for the rest of my life.

    I have serious doubts I can make it to the beginning of October, let alone the end.

    My posts are probably going to continue to be sporadic, just so you all know… and I don’t feel inclined to continue with the WCFQ at the moment either. Maybe later, if/when I free myself from the shackles of B_____’s emotional and bureaucratic tyranny. I’ll still comment, since that’s usually much shorter than my posts, but… well, you can consider me a ghost in the machine at this point.

July 26, 2009

  • WCFQWC #4 Career Choices

    WCFQ Writer’s Challenge #4:
    Choose a random work of fiction.
    Turn to the page which corresponds to your age.
    Go to the third paragraph and use the first sentence
    to begin your own short story or poem.

    When all had become clear again, the man was alone. The circle was empty and the candles at the seven points of the heptagram lit the room with a cheery glow. He tossed the book and chalk across the room with a growl.

    “Law-RENCE! What’s that noise up there? I heard a thud,” his mother’s shrill voice floated from downstairs.

    Stalking to the door, he whipped it open and then said more meekly, with his customary horrendous stutter, “Nuh-n-nothing, muh-muh-mother. Ah t-tripped.”

    “Well, keep it down young man. Your father and I are trying to have a nice dinner party.”

    “Yuh-yes, ma’am.” He shut the door much more gently than he wished he might, picked up the book and chalk, and tiptoed back to his bed. Not for the first time, Lawrence bemoaned the stutter he’d been cursed with since childhood. Not only did all of his classmates at the high school tease him about it, not only did it cause his mother to bar him from her fancy parties for fear he would embarrass the family, but now he couldn’t even use black magic to right the injustices that had been inflicted upon him by his treacherous tongue.

    Whatever he’d just summoned had been nothing recognizable and certainly nothing that seemed interested in talking to him about his problems. Lying in the circle like a puked up puddle of pea soup with eyes, confined by the parameters of the chalk outline of the magic circle, it had bubbled occasionally in response to his attempts to communicate until in frustration he’d dismissed the thing with a few waves of his hands. It sure hadn’t looked like he’d imagined a shoggoth. For one thing, it’d been kind of dinky. Now all he had to show for his efforts was a circle on his floor that looked like it had been burned into the wood by acid and his mother mad at him. No doubt, he’d hear about it tomorrow at breakfast, and again when she chanced to noticed the scorched floorboards.

    Or not…

    Lawrence smiled as he heard screams and the clatter of his mother’s favorite soup tureen striking the floor. He sighed contentedly as the thunder of panicked feet passed through the front door.  The pea soup monster had understood his directions after all! He began to giggle madly as the house grew silent. Maybe a stutter wasn’t such a bad thing to have when trying to pronounce the glottal tongue of the Old Ones. He sat on his bed and began to page through the book at his leisure, flipping the piece of chalk through his fingers.

    Mary Alice would be sorry she’d mocked him in homeroom this morning.

    … he wondered what a flying polyp looked like.

    (First line from The Adventures of Robin Hood, edited by Paul Creswick.)
    July 26


    The Hopi Niman dance marks the end of a visit from the Kachinas which began in February.


    The Asatru festival of Sleipner, Odin’s eight-legged mount, honors the creature’s ability to travel between worlds. Sleipner is a shamanic steed that can be used to travel to other levels of consciousness.


July 23, 2009

  • I don’t know what to do any more

    I went with my sister to her job today. Actually, I followed her through torrential downpours, mad truckers spraying more water than the sky above us, and drivers scarier than my sister who don’t know enough to turn their headlights on in a rainstorm and who merge into lanes where there is really not enough room for them. Ugh, someone find me a home job. I don’t want to drive anywhere anymore. People are scary.

    I will probably not apply for a job where my sister works. It’s even farther away than my current job and though its in a lovely area, surrounded by centuries old stone houses (many of which were up for sale, sad to say), I just can’t see making that trek everyday. Not for a job that my be as toxic to my frazzled nerves as my current job is.

    The residents I met were nice enough, but some of the stories my sister told me make me less than eager to apply. On the one hand, it would be an opportunity to acquire new skills. On the other, the thought of trying to calm violent people down is about as appealing as it is at my present job, and I’d have to deal with it more often where my sister works.

    At this point, I have enough saved up that I could afford to be out of work about two months. I’d like to have at least three months worth of funds before I let my job push me to the point of walking out. I’m trying to get back into crafting, but finding the time to do it is hard. I spend most of my free time online and/or writing. Maybe I should spend less time online. It’s hard to work with clay, make paper beads/mache, or paint between surfing the web. I am very good at dividing my attention into multiple areas, but I’m afraid if I fracture my attention too much I’ll give myself attention deficit. Some kind of ADD may explain why I never seem to finish much of anything.

    One things is certain, I need to get out of my current job, but I don’t think I can do what my sister does. It’s clear she loves her job, but I can’t see myself in her shoes. The drive alone was enough to send my back into spasms. I don’t think I can do more than my current 20-25 minute commute. Her trek is 45 minutes to an hour. Maybe I should go to Hollywood and try to make it as a scriptwriter. It’s not like I can do worse than the people currently shaping Hollywood.

    What can I do? I don’t know any more. I need to do something different. I need to do something that uses my creativity, something that uses my brain and my knowledge. I need to live in a society that values money less and ethics and art more. I think I was born too soon. Society makes me sick. I don’t know how to live in this world.
    July 23

    The Neptunalia honored the sea god Neptune and his wife, Salacia, goddess of the wide-open salty sea and the mineral water of springs. Originally Neptune was a god of fresh waters while his wife held dominion over the salty seas. The goddess Sulis of the hot springs of Bath may have been one of her aspects. Neptune and his wife are equivalent to the Norse deities Aegir and his wife Ran. In Greece, Salacia would be Amphitrite.



    In Egypt the Festival of the Rise of Sothis-Sirius, the star of Isis was celebrated in conjunction with the rise of the Nile. This was usually celebrated on the 3rd day of Thuthi. The Egyptians referred to this as prt Spdt “the going up of (the goddess) Sothis” and was called wpt-rnpt, “the opening of the year” one of three “New Years” festivals of the Egyptians. This was the third New Year’s festival and heralded the first day of the Sothic year.



    Gwyl o Cerridwen is the Feast of Cerridwen which begins at sundown.



July 22, 2009

  • WCFQ #18: Little Runaway

    WCFQ #18:
    Have you ever thought of running away?
    Oceans_Beautiful_View

    When I was younger, I, my sister, and a friend of ours went so far as to load up a wagon with our worldly possessions and got as far as the park, which was about a mile away. We were convinced that we could live off the land if given half a chance. Before packing up and leaving, we each headed off in different directions to see if we could find some place to go. I was the one who suggested the mountains. From the park, you could see mountains far in the distance and we, being little kids, didn’t really have a concept of how far away those mountains were. We got as far as the park before my sister and friend gave up. We went home where our parents laughed at us. I sometimes wonder how far I would have gotten on my own, wagon in tow, before I gave up.

    I think constantly of running away now. How sad is that? People think running away is a little kid thing. I think more adults than kids want to run away but they think it’s immature to want that. I think everyone wants to run away, deep down inside. No one’s content with their lot, or very few are. Who doesn’t want to head out into parts unknown and explore? When I was a kid, I could lose myself for hours on end in the woods and fields around the house. I was completely unsupervised, and I don’t think anyone ever missed me in all my ramblings except once when I was at my great grandparents, about six years old, and I got it into my head to go visit our nearest neighbor at about 7 am before anyone else had got up. I think I nearly gave them heart attacks, but I never wandered so far away when I was at their place again. That didn’t stop me from wandering anywhere my feet took me when I was at home. It wasn’t as if anyone noticed.

    I’ve written this before, but some days I just get in my car and consider driving until I run out of gas. I rarely drive for pleasure, never to the point that I get lost, but more and more I feel like just driving in a random direction, preferably a direction in which I can find large wooded tracts, driving to some remote spot, driving with the intent of getting lost and never coming back.

    You hear about people getting lost in forests and no one ever sees them again. It’s never their intent to get lost, and search parties set out to find them, sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t. I think about getting lost on purpose, just to get away from everything. I want to get away from everything that man has created. Part of me wants to see if I can survive. Part of me doesn’t care if I do. I’m not suicidal, but I am… desperate.

    I have this deep and abiding loathing of my fellow man. Not on an anonymous, individual basis, I have friends… I like specific people… but as a group; I think we suck. We should be wiped off the face of the earth. We’re nothing but a parasitic virus. I am ashamed of my humanness. I’d rather be a tree or a raven or snake. I’d rather be nearly anything but a human being. They say you can’t run away from your problems, that you carry them with you, but I don’t want to run away from my problems so much as I want to run away from existence. I don’t want to be a who or a what. I just want to be.

July 21, 2009

  • Dreams

    Nothing really to say and I don’t feel like writing… I’ll relate this dream instead.

    Let me just say that I like prunes. I’m not one of those people who resorts to prunes only when they are constipated. If not for their unfortunate gastrointestinal effects, I’d eat them a lot more often. So… my dream.

    I dreamed I had a bag of prunes at work. For some reason my boss took my bag of prunes, opened them up, and dumped them in a bin with dried apricots (which I do not like). There were a lot more prunes that my one little bag would have held, and a lot more prunes than apricots. Apparently she wanted the customers to buy them, but I just wanted my prunes back. My feeling of incredulity at what my boss had done was very similar to how I generally feel at work any more. In my dream I had a headache (and also when I woke up) and since the prunes had now been exposed to the air, I expected they would be hard and maybe the chewing of them would help my headache, but they were soft. Softer they would have been even in the bag. It was was like biting into a piece of butter. There was no taste and very little sensation of anything in my mouth. I did not like it, not the texture and not the lack of taste. I was pretty upset by the whole dream and I woke up at 3:30 in the morning and couldn’t fall back to sleep until it was almost time to get up for work anyway.

    My interpretation has to do with the ____ that as of late we have been forced to ply to the customers against our wills due to certain quotas I alluded to yesterday. (fill in the blank… it has to do with what people eat prunes to do)

    I had another dream a couple days ago about snakes. They’re one of my spirit animals. There were snakes everywhere, in boxes, on the ground underfoot. People were upset about the snakes. All of them were poisonous. I was not very frightened, as I knew how to handle them. I picked up a cobra by the base of its head (yeah, not the way you should handle a cobra, but this was a dream lol). These long “tongues” came out and wrapped themselves around my hand and arm. Apparently the cobra objected to being removed for the safety of others. The “tongues” were sticky-tacky as if covered in burs and came off my skin grudgingly like Velcro.  I was not poisoned by the tongues, though I thought it was possible that they were poisonous.

    My interpretation… I need to be heard, but my words are attached to me and will follow me wherever I go.

    Probably means I should be more careful what I say/write….
    July 21st

    The Mayan New Year was celebrated today. Each day, year, decade, century, and millennium had its own god. The Mayan solar calendar possessed 365 days, and they also possessed a sacred calendar of 260 days for determining which deity was in charge. Every fifty-second solar New Year was dangerous because the gods might leave their duties and time would stop.



    The seeress Damo, daughter of the Greek philosopher Pythagoras and Theano, was honored today. All of Pythagoras’ secrets were entrusted to her care after his death.



    According to the Egyptian calendar, Aten was born today.



July 20, 2009

  • I just want some stability

    It seems every time I’ve tried to post in the last three days, my connection has conked out. Has anyone else been having internet issues lately? Sunspots or something?? I don’t know.

    I am truly tired of work. I mean, I don’t mind working, but I’m tired of my present job. I just want it to end. Every week it’s something new…. which I can’t go into here or lose my job. It’s a Catch-22 thing. Damned if I do, and damned if I don’t. I can at least write in a public post that I am unhappy. No names, no specifics, just not… happy.

    My sister works in a halfway house for people with psychological/emotional problems, and I’m going with her on Thursday to check it out, see if it’s something I could do. Because I have no experience in “in house care,” they’d want to test me out for a month, but potentially I would have a supervisory position afterward. This is based on my college degree and my supervisory experience. One way or another, I’d have to leave my current job to see if this other job would be tenable. If I or they decided I was not suitable, that would leave me high and dry without work. Is leaving my current job for a trial job worth it? I aim to find out on Thursday. I may be giving my two week’s notice on Friday.

    According to my sister, they are desperate for help. I probably can’t go into detail, not knowing what their policy on the subject is, but apparently the state does spot checks and certain night shift employees currently working there did something very naughty and irresponsible. If I did get the job, it would be third shift, which I have no problem with. I would actually prefer this, being a night owl and all. Plus apparently night shift gets paid more. Whooo! More pay, I can deal with. My sister was not specific about pay, but she seemed to think that I’d be making a lot more than I make now (and sadly, it took five years to work my way up to what I am currently paid).

    One way or another, I just can’t stay where I am. I don’t think I can do retail at all any more. I am completely burned out in regards to retail. I definitely can’t still be working retail come the holidays. I’ll go completely bonkers. After my car accident in December, I am still completely paranoid about driving anywhere near the malls, but especially during the holidays. The stress of it all isn’t good for me. It’s not even that I’m afraid of being hurt, it’s more concern over finances and the hassle of dealing with insurance companies. I don’t like hassles. I like things simple. I like to know what’s what and have some stability. I like to know that my expectations are realistic. My current job may not be going anywhere any time soon, but it’s hardly stable. Every week, it’s something new. Every week it’s the stress of changing everything and not having what they tell me I should have and therefore being unable to do what they tell me I should do. I don’t want quotas and big brother tactics. I don’t want names on lists. I don’t want to be compared to other people in other stores who seem to be better than us even though the don’t make their quotas either.

    I want a nice job where I deal with maybe two dozen people in a day (instead of hundreds) and where change occurs slowly and with warning. I want to be able to ease into changes. I suppose in that respect I am somewhat like the residents where my sister works. I don’t like change. I want to know what I am doing at all times and not have to worry someone is going to pull the rug out from under me and change the rules without a moment’s notice. I want to know my job and be respected for doing my job and not belittled for all the new things they add or change at a moments notice on a weekly basis. I don’t want to be treated like I am stupid or insufficient. I’ve told my boss many times that I can’t do this any more. So far as I’m concerned, when I finally do give notice, it should be the least surprising occurrence in our average work week.

    I sincerely think I may have post traumatic stress syndrome. There are days when I practically have a panic attack going out the door. Just the thought of going to work gives me a migraine some days. I feel sorry for everyone who works with me because I know what I’ll be leaving them with when I finally do find someplace else to be. I am damn good at my job, if I do say so myself (and since no one else in a higher capacity will). Everyone at work is wound so tight, it’s a wonder no one’s snapped yet. Maybe when I finally find some where else to be, I’ll go into more detail… since I will then not have the potential loss of my only paycheck looming like an anvil over my head.

    My job just fills me with so much loathing any more, it’s not even funny. And it’s not even the customers or my coworkers, it’s the policies… the economic environment of my workplace, the crushing dogma of the common dollar and what the company, any company, thinks the public wants.

    I am not a number, corporate America. I am a human being. We are all people, and you’re like the sludge monster from a Godzilla movie. Make of that what you will.
    July 20th

    no holiday entries for the 20th



July 17, 2009

  • $$$$

    So you all know how I’ve been trying to win the lottery. I’ve been “sending out the desire” for more money and I’ve even had some of you kind folks sending out the good vibes for me.

    Well, I still haven’t won the lottery. lol

    BUT, the other day I received a check from my car insurance company reimbursing me for my deductible for the accident that I had waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back in December. So, it only took them seven months to settle all accounts. Is that normal? I don’t know. I’m happy to report that I’ve had very few car accidents. (knock on wood)

    So though I didn’t win the lottery, I did get back a fair chunk of change that I never expected to see again.

    All I can say is… keep sending the money vibes my way. My money luck seems to have turned around about a week ago when I found a silver quarter and added it to my little money worries box. I can only hope my gods and my friends have turned my luck around….

    hmmm, now I’m going to have to see about buying Ganesha some nice candies. I did say I would. Maybe some flowers too.




    July 17th

    This is the Japanese feast day of Amaterasu-O-Mi-Kami. From 9 a.m. to 4 p.m., the first procession takes place. This is the Yamahoko-junko, which consists of twenty floats. When Emperor Seiwa of Japan successfully drove an epidemic out of the city of Kyoto in 869, the day was commemorated with a festival. He performed the fete by displaying sixty-six spears before his imperial shrine. Every year after, he paraded the spears through the streets in honor of the gods. This is continued in the Gion festival. The spears are carried in sapling topped shrines accompanied by dozens of musicians led by a boy dressed as a Shinto priest.


    The birth of Isis, wife of Osiris, child of Seb the earth god and Nut the sky goddess occurs on the 4th of the Epagomenal Days. She is the mother of Horus and an agricultural goddess identified with Demeter and associated with the seasonal rise of the Nile river which brought fertile soil up from the river’s bottom.



July 16, 2009

  • WCFQ #14: The People, the People, the people

    WCFQ #14:
    What has been your biggest
    disappointment in life so far?
    my_final_username


    People have always been my biggest disappointment to the point that sometimes I feel like Sybil. People scare me and they make me sad. It’s a well known fact that you cannot control anyone but yourself, and sometimes not even that, but the things my fellow human beings do often boggles the mind. Whether it’s genocide or pedophilia, hate-mongering zealots or ignorant money grubbers, parents who kill their children or children who kill other children… it makes me wonder what is wrong with my species? The world would probably be better off if the Neanderthals had evolved dominant instead of homo sapiens sapiens. We’re so full of ourselves, we had to call ourselves wise (sapiens) twice. We’re probably the vainest and stupidest creatures to ever walk the face of the earth. Our vanity is in fact the root of our ignorance because we can conceive of nothing beyond ourselves. If, as the Christians say, we were made in god’s image, then conversely god is shaped by our consciousness in our own image. We become a reflection of the divine and can do no wrong, even though we do… lots of it. We do enough harm to our world, our fellow beings, and each other to beggar belief.

    In the course of human history there have been thousands to hold up as examples to follow and thousands who should have been cast out of humanity entirely. Why is it that we always find it easier to follow the evil example en masse than we do to follow the good one? When was the last time you heard of an army of good Samaritans following along in the wake of one ennobled soul? Instead, we have criminally self-centered depots with armies only too happy to commit genocide to keep their misbegotten leader in power. We have religious zealots who convince their followers that only killing others will get them into paradise.

    While it is true that we rally when some natural disaster blights some region, we seldom maintain the level of attention required to address the issue fully. We still have people living in trailers provided during their displacement from the Hurricane Katrina disaster in New Orleans. And what about the Tsunami that hit India… all water under the bridge it would seem. If we were to live up to the standards that we envision for ourselves, famine, disease, and pollution would already be things of the past. Victims of natural disasters would not languish in a purgatory of enfeebling bureaucracy.

    We fail. We fail as a sentient race, and we fail at enlightenment. We are not worth the carbon monoxide laden air we breath, the pesticide laden food we eat, or the chemically altered water we drink. Humanity is not so great as it thinks it is, and the sooner we get that through our heads, the sooner we can actually make strides to fix the problems we have created and begin the process of spiritual perfection.
    July 16th

    In Haiti, Voodoo pilgrims seek healing and good health in the holy waters of the Saut d’Eau, a waterfall where the voodoo spirit of love, Erozulie Freda, appeared twice in the 1800s.



    The 3rd Epagomenal Day is the Birthday of Set(h).



July 15, 2009

  • WCFQ #11: It’s all circumstantial

    WCFQ #11:
    What would you do
    in the case of a zombie outbreak?
    Do you think you’d be a survivor?
    Bizy_the_Pirate

    I really couldn’t say if I’d survive or not. It really depends upon circumstance. Points in my favor, I don’t live in a city, and I know various plants which are edible. Even if I ran out of food, I would be able to forage.

    Points not in my favor, I don’t have any guns and even if I did, I’ve never had the need to learn how to aim and actually hit anything.

    Which leaves much up to chance. For instance, if I have some warning, I might be able to scope out a safe place to hole up for a while, but what if the outbreak occurs while I’m at work and some shambler makes a meal out of half the clientele before anyone’s the wiser. I mean, I work in retail so half the clientele is already zombie-like.

    The only real edge someone has in surviving a zombie outbreak is if they get wind of the zombies before the issue is brought home to them. No plan is going to save you if you get bit before you even know you should be worried about being bit.

    Of course, from the other end of the spectrum… how does the zombie feel about all this? Enter this zombie haiku contest to find out and win an autographed copy of Breathers, a zombie’s lament.
    July 15th

    On St. Within’s Day, a Christian version of the Norse sea and storm god Aegir, rain meant more rain for the next forty days.



    The Day of Rauni is a Finnish and Cornish holy day. The Cornish goddess Rowana or Rauni, guardian of rowan trees, is patroness of the secret knowledge of the runes. Her tree is protective, and its wood, bark, and leaves, used for making protective amulets, are especially effective if cut today. A simple charm consists of binding some leaves and bark up in white or gold cloth with red thread while visualizing the goal of the spell. In Finnish mythology, she is the wife of Ukko the Thunder God. The name comes from ‘ronn’ or ‘raun’, the Nordic names for Rowan.



    On the 2nd of the Epagomenal Days, Horus was born.