Anthem

Useful Words

3. NormopathyPsychiatric theorist Christopher Bollas invented the idea of normopathy to describe people who are so focused on blending in and conforming to social norms that it becomes a kind of mania. A person who is normotic is often unhealthily fixated on having no personality at all, and only doing exactly what is expected by society. Extreme normopathy is punctuated by breaks from the norm, where normotic person cracks under the pressure of conforming and becomes violent or does something very dangerous. Many people experience mild normopathy at different times in their lives, especially when trying to fit into a new social situation, or when trying to hide behaviors they believe other people would condemn.

Christmas Card for the whole Internet

Tis the time of year when tis acceptable to say Tis (so much easier than it is)

and also the time of year to mail bits of paper and glue at the people I like.

Anyway, some of the best people I've met live inside my computer.

If not for you folks I'd feel utterly alone and abnormal in this weird world. You know who you are.

Rather than stalk after you in real life, I'll just post this.|

Merry Festivus, Happy Hanukah, Joyous Yule.

If'n you want a real card, send me an address; )

My Favorite Salutation for this Time of Year

(  )Happy Holidays
(  )Season's Greetings
(X)DON'T YOU PEOPLE HAVE HOMES TO GO TO?!?

I haven't yet found any fellow bettors to get together a Black Friday Trampling Deaths pool, but I say 3, and a dozen newsworthy injuries.  I stay outta the stores on Buy
Nothing Day

in the Spirit,

This

Because it's true. 

And 90% of TV is shit.

I can't imagine the shape of my life if the parts I'd found in books were missing.
If there were no heroes's quests, no stories of There and Back Again

TYGER VOYAGE, Richard Adams and Nicola Bayley

If I hadn't found Art tucked in between their pages,
or madwomen's poetry, songs of kindred souls,
I'd have far fewer words to speak.

there are precious few poems floating about in the world

plenty to be found safely bound,
words not to be met anywhere else

 {ebon ichor incarnadine viridian}
Wisdom not spoken aloud :

"Sometimes a man's love is like rich dark chocolate-too much, too cloyingly sweet- and one must away to the wild woods, and eat cold clean rice and clear broth, to avoid being fat with emptiness"(paraphrased badly)

Think of all the stories no-one would tell
without the anonymity of a page,
without the span of attention unfurled between covers
in all the odd moments where one may read.

What a Hell, without Books.

Moral Quandary

So my kid's school takes pictures twice a year. Fall ones are pretty typical; they send 2 proofs and an envelope with choice of packages, which they'll print up on demand & sell you.

Spring pictures are a whole different animal. They take the picture, even if the kid says, "I don't want my picture taken, my Mom doesn't want any" as mine did. Then they send you an 8x10, 3 - 5x7s, 10 wallet-sized, and a whole sheet of bookmarks, guitar pics and other assorted plastic punch-outs, cheerily printed with the school year and little cutesy backgrounds.

They send you all these photos, then they say pay $12 a sheet for the ones you want, and send the rest back.
AND SEND THE REST BACK.

Why, exactly? They've already printed them, it's not like they're gonna lick the ink off and reuse the paper. And though she's a pretty cute kid, i don't think they'll want to hang her picture in their homes...They've put the same investment into making them, whether I buy all of them or none of them. ($12 a sheet is ridiculous btw. Fundraiser pricing, the money goes to the school)

It's a ridiculous business model. I'm not going to pay outrageous prices for something I didn't want in the first place.

I was supposed to decide & return them last week, but haven't, cuz I'm slack like that. I'm tempted to call and say the cat ate them or the dog lost them, but I'd really like to help out, even though I'm not going to give them any money. I could offer them some of these OTHER pictures of my kid, would they like those? Not that I'd actually give them any. I'm not giving pics of my kid to somebody who's just going to run them through a shredder! That gives me the heebedy-jeebies just thinking about it.

Also, I'm a bit offended by the wastefulness of it. Photo chemicals ain't made of kitten giggles and rainwater, after all. Those unwanted pics have to go somewhere; all the energy used to produce them had to come from somewhere.
Is it my capitalistic duty to try to bankrupt these fools?
Is it my moral obligation to return their goods to them, though they hold absolutely no value?

Discuss.
I know I'm supposed to do the right thing, but remind me why, OK?



* I actually gave the kid a check to cover the page of bookmarks etc cuz they're cute and she likes to swap them with her friends, and sent the rest of it back. But I also took a decent close-up of the 8x10 with my camera ; )

Encouraging Words

Bummed

This week has been difficult.
I'm building a house, because that's what I wanted to do, as soon as I could start walking towards something that was mine, a piece of ground that nobody could kick out from under my feet.
I'm building a house, and it's slow going, because I'm doing it myself, and the stones are heavy and the mortar bags are heavy and I can only fit ten cinderblocks in the trunk of the car at a time, and the wood part isn't quite straight, and it's too hot or too cold or it's raining, or sometimes I just sit in the wheelbarrow and stare out at the world and watch it spin.
But I'm building a house and it's going fairly well and I'm proud, and when I am there, I am enough.
Somebody kicked in part of the door last sunday. I'm not sure why; there's a big part without a roof yet that's much wider than the door. Nothing was taken, nothing was disturbed, but that painted panel of the door was shattered to reveal empty space.
It pisses me off.
Worse than that, though, it makes me feel small.
It's slow going and it's hard work and it's scary enough without Persons Unknown going out of their way to destroy things.
Stop shitting on my dreams, Harpy.
Maybe the work for me to do is to let go of the illusion of control.

So I patched the door with plywood on monday, and today I drew another pineapple and wrote Don't be an Asshole on it. I took the broken pieces up the hill and shot at them. I think I hit what I was aiming at a few times. I had the foresight to bring earmuffs and the balls to yell Woohoo! a couple times though I wasn't really feeling it. Left the shell casings scattered about as a deterrent.
I put up some plywood at the back and along the sides but didn't paint it yet. I raked up some leaves and burned them because that feels like Home.
I'm going to keep building, though every step means more that can be lost.
Looked at wildlife cameras online.

I'm menstrual and weepy and just an embarrassment.
I used to have a friend who was the same.
In some moments we were the same. I can count the differences, and oh boy can I count my flaws, but I need people to relate to.
I need some good words from someone who believes in me.
I'd like to pass some words on to whoever it was.
Who cannot build, must destroy, etc.

More on the St Matthews business, Sacred Cow Tipping

my comment on their page

"I recently heard aloud a saying that was already engraved on my heart - "What is truer than true? - the Story"
I love myths and stories; they inform me of a larger self that includes all of humanity. I think there's much grace in Rev Cardy's statement,(paraphrasing) none of us have all the truth, others who believe differently are not evil, WE NEED ALL THE STORIES to be complete as human souls.
Mary's story is not made untrue by considering its relevance.  There's rather a disconnect between that revered unwed mother and today's condemned ones; the fact that a Church is inviting thought and discussion on the subject is quite heartening.
My own opinion says the literal interpretation of a virgin birth is not the meat and bones of the story, more likely it was added in later years to establish divinity, just like many other myths. We all want our stories to be true, but why? Does the meaning vanish if Jesus was just a man who said, "Love one another"?
Does it remove the blessings we would give and receive? Can we not maintain faith in God, if we must seek out God for ourselves? We need the stories, but we need ALL the stories.
And as a woman, as a mother, I need the realism. Pregnancy doesn't *just happen*. Maybe it did for Mary, but not in the reality I live in. Women, mothers, daughters and Sons need to be mindful of our human reality and the roles we all play.
Bravo to this Church for speaking these truths. "

I'm not sure this will change anybody's opinion, nor even let in a crack of light.
I got fairly frustrated reading some of the commentary. Very narrow-minded, to my mind.
I get that people have Faith. I get it, I really do.
But the picture on the billboard is just that, a picture. It isn't the actual real Virgin Mary, you know. Not the one who appeared in Guadalupe, or on the grilled cheese sandwich, OR THE ACTUAL 12 YEAR OLD GIRL THAT GOD IMPREGNATED (link), If your faith-mixed-with-reality will allow you to wrap your mind around such things. It is a picture that presents an altered truth, for surely there were not pee-on pregnancy tests in those days. There weren't c-sections, or antibiotics, or epidurals. There weren't social programs to provide for unwed mothers, either. She's lucky Joseph stuck around. This altered truth allows for thoughtful analysis.

The unwritten reality of this Greatest Story Ever Told is an unrealistic one. The  Church has devoted vast tracts of dogma to explaining how Mary conceived without a penis (nother link), with dire consequences for any doubters (another other link). One wonders the spiritual value of these beliefs.  Faith in God? Promoting that suspension of disbelief which produces malleable followers?
Really, why do we NEED this story to be true? What good do we glean from it that couldn't otherwise be found? No, really, I'm asking. Anybody with an explanation, their own truth, is warmly invited to share it in a comment.

Passing of a friend

Not dead, just gone, for reasons I don't entirely Understand.

But I think she'll be OK.

Met the Neighbors

So I'm building a House-In-The-Woods, have been working on it for several years. When it's done it will look similar to this:

Minus the greenhouse part, & the door is red w/ pineapples, and it's not tudor, it's sandstone and cinderblock. The windows are made of bottles & there aren't any in front and the roof is not nearly so complete, BUT ANYWAY, it's similar to this.

It is a place to go for taking Space and for making Magic. It's the very biggest thing I've ever built & i'm justifiably proud of it.

So when i got there today and found PEOPLE had been there i was rather upset.

Mind you it is just sitting out there in the middle of the forest, but that's WHY nobody's supposed to go there. Somebody had left big muddy tiretracks in the driveway, and a tiki torch which they won't be getting back. Some of my knick -knacks were moved, AND they'd torn open the big trash bag full of paper-to-burn and burned it in the firepit, probably while sitting in my chair (!).

Could've been worse, but STILL.

SO i snatched up the tiki torch & took myself down the road to where i knew people were and asked what happened & if they'd seen anything.

 "No nothing at all, nary a peep!"

Anyway i left, & soon after that the neighbors came walking down to my house-in-the-woods where i was sitting in My Chair watching paper burning in My Firepit. They each had a Coke & they brought one for me as well. Their names are Zack(the esquire of the neighboring property since his father passed away) and his friend Bill. Their pit bull is named Doobie, interpret that how you will. They wished to reassure me that they hadn't disturbed anything & would keep an eye out for interlopers. I told them i didn't mind people passing through but that there were limits. We compared tattoos, praised the un-Hot weather, discussed Zack's Old Lady whom I had previously met. They informed me I was 'Cool as Hell'.

We'll see.