Chronarchy

Debt-Free¹

2009-06-30T14:15:20Z

Today, I come to you from a wonderful place: completely debt-free. I dug myself out of the minor hole that I was in in just under six months as a result of a promotion, keeping naked cats in my attic for nearly a year, and being absolutely, downright miserly over the past year.

My dad would be so proud of the way I've handled money and opportunity recently. Actually, I know he is.

No matter what the debt is, it has a way of looking like it's way, way too big to overcome, especially when you're sitting under what looks like a mountain of it. I know the statistics, and I know that I wasn't anywhere close to the "average" debt people carry on their credit cards alone (the mean credit card debt was around $9,000 last I heard, with the median being closer to $2,000; it's probably higher now), but even the small sum I had seemed insurmountable less than a year ago.

Heck, there were times when I thought it was hopeless while I was in the middle of paying the damn thing down. . . even as recently as last month, I was terrified that I wouldn't be able to meet the expectations I had set for myself, that I would be unable to make it to the end of the month, and that I would end up spending even more time in debt than I had originally planned.

I found myself religiously checking my bank balances, my credit card statements, and adding up every penny I spent. I didn't buy anything I didn't need unless I was positive that I could manage to meet the expectations I had of myself, and I went without a lot of things in order to ensure that I was staying within budget.

I'd originally gone into light debt when I bought the house in 2002: there, I was making enough, but didn't have enough cash on hand for repairs, improvements, and painting. It's said that the average home-buyer pours an additional $5,000 into a house in the first year of ownership, and I probably did about that. Then my car finally died, and I had a car payment that was completely unexpected on top of my new mortgage.

There was a time when I figured it up, and I was spending a few dollars more each month than I was actually making at the time.

So things ballooned a bit, no matter how careful I tried to be. Soon, I was finding that even my modest debt was looking entirely uncontrollable. I didn't see any light at the end of the tunnel, and I didn't know that I would ever be able to pay it off. I quickly understood (and understand even better in hindsight) just how frightening debt can be, and how amazingly stupid it can make you feel. I now understand how people carry such balances for so long: there comes a point where you accept debt, and where you feel you will always live with it; and it comes fast and out of nowhere.

It wasn't until the car payments were complete this past December that I was able to start paying the debt down in a significant way. Then I picked up my promotion. Then I scrimped and saved and put everything I had into getting out of debt, buckling down at work and making things happen. And here, with planning and work, I stand now: debt free and finally really proud of myself.

Now I just need to make it to the end of the month without a relapse, and my next paycheck will become a cushion, not a "make ends meet" sort of thing. Given that I'm in better shape this month than I was last month (and have been seeing that trend since January), I think a relapse is very unlikely.

There's a light at the end of the debt tunnel: I'm living proof. While my debt wasn't grossly enormous, it also wasn't actually manageable. I carried it for nearly six years until the cards fell right. I'm not one to say that "anyone can do this if they just work harder. . ." I know, because I did work harder, and sometimes that's not enough. But I am one to say that it can be done, with a little luck, a little faith in yourself, and a lot of work and discipline over a long haul.

To all those who helped me out when I needed it, thank you. I promise to pay it forward.

¹ - except, of course, for the house. But the elimination of other debt makes my mortgage entirely affordable.

Renewing OL

2009-06-24T19:05:55Z

I see that it's coming to be about that time: time to renew my Oak Leaves subscription.

There was a while when I couldn't really afford OL, but man, I missed it terribly. It's a great little Mag, with all sorts of great items in it (and, often, on it), and the various editors we've seen have done a great job adding their own touches to it here and there ever since cortigiana took over the editing years ago. I've also enjoyed writing for it and submitting things: speaking of, I probably ought to look at what more I can scrape together to submit here soon!

The Solstice Somersault

2009-06-22T15:36:52Z

I think it's well-known that things don't always go as planned at ritual: we've all had mishaps in various rituals (heck, we have mishaps in every ritual). Of course, it's the more spectacular ones that we particularly enjoy chatting about, and the ones that we all wish we'd gotten a good picture of!

Many have heard about druidkirk's spinning fiasco where he took out the world tree in the middle of opening the Gates. Well, I'm here to offer a solid "thank you" to him, because I ended up going out of control in my own Gate opening on the Summer Solstice, but at the end I could say, "You know, at least I didn't break the f-ing tree!"

Summer Solstice is, for the Cranes, basically a picnic in the park, where we get together, all the parts are sung (or mostly sung) and drawn from pop song lyrics. As an example, we sang "What a Wonderful World" to honour the Earth Mother, and I pulled "Beachhouse On the Moon" out for the Gatekeeper. So, think about it as about the most laid-back Core Order of Ritual rite that you'll ever see, anywhere.

Anyway, because of the laid-back nature, I left my staff at home. Most of the time, I focus hard on the staff, which helps reduce the dizziness that comes with spinning around quickly (and adds a lot of support when I ram it into the earth at the end of the spin). This could, perhaps, be best described as "working without a net" for the first time.

So I sang my invocation to the Gatekeeper, left unnamed but described as a magician, and then started the "Open the Gates" chant and started to spin.

Now, to explain the setting: the folk were in very close (the "box" of people was about 10-12 feet across, with people on three sides and the fire on the fourth). Complicating matters was a slight downhill grade that stretched from west to east, losing a few inches of height in that short space. It didn't look like a lot of grade, but when you're dizzy, it's a bit more than you might think.

Most of the way through, I checked my position. Catching a glimpse of tanrinia's hands up and in front of her, I knew I'd drifted (probably more than a little) down the hill some, and so worked to correct myself and end with the Gates open.

Well, I planted myself pretty firmly, spread my arms, got, "Let the Gates be Open!" out. . . and then found that my feet, though planted firmly, were planted very firmly on a cosmos that was still spinning about on its axis. This led to a bit of tilting in my brain (science calls this "dizziness"), and I began to fall forward.

Realizing this, I checked my bearings again, noticed I was about to fall straight onto a lovely young lady who was attending her very first ritual with us, and realized that I'd probably crush her if I didn't move quickly.

I somehow managed to somersault over her, actually leaving the ground and not getting caught up on her too badly (you can see she's still sitting up in the blue shirt in the photos) and then landing gracefully on my back without hitting anyone else.

Yes, the Gates were open, and (as is fitting in a rite like this) everyone got a good laugh, and we just continued on, grins and joy in our hearts.

At least I didn't break the f'ing world tree.

CTP work and an ambush by the Creative Commons license

2009-06-18T19:17:50Z

Not long ago (in fact, about two weeks ago), I got re-involved with my IP/CTP work. Something's been tripping me up, though, and I realized that it's a combination of two things:

Time to look up sources when I'm at home, and
Some weird notion that I've done all the "easy" stuff.

Really, there's nothing in the CTP that's easy, and nothing in the CTP that's hard. It just all is. I just need to take the time to do it, and soon. Clock's a-tickin'.

I also discovered (and was somewhat appalled to discover this) that some of my work has been released under the Creative Commons license. While I'm about as kopyleft as you can get with my work, I am rather opposed to it having anything to do with Creative Commons, particularly without my permission. The restrictions on the CC licenses bug the crap out of me, honestly (of course, with my pleasure at working in a kopyleft framework, I should point out that it only bugs me because the Attribution tag means that people have to say they got it from me, while the ShareAlike tag means that derivative works must also be under the CC license, both of which I feel are unfair restrictions).

Amusingly, all work is automatically copyrighted, so one must go through and de-copyright it to make it kopyleft. I rarely get around to that. I do occasionally use the "©" symbol, more because there is no reversed symbol available in regular HTML, and it really is just simpler to type "all work © MJD" than saying "all work copyleft by MJD". The © you see on my site is left over from before I knew about kopyleft, actually: I just haven't changed it (mostly because I'd have to do it by hand on every page. . . poor planning).

Still, the CC license annoys me because it insinuates things about my work that aren't true. At least with copyright, people will ask if they can use it or ignore the copyright altogether (both of which are cool by me). With CC, they think they're free to use it but have to use it in specific ways, which is not cool by me.

Great conversations don't have to be very long

2009-06-12T14:23:06Z

Related to a previous post, I felt this conversation should be added to the list of "awesome conversations regarding the Beastie Boys with my girlfriend".

*"Brass Monkey" comes on the radio*

Me: I wonder what music was like before the Beastie Boys?

Maggie: I don't know, sucky?

Musings on Chaos Magic

2009-06-10T18:48:38Z

Many years ago, I read a certain article about chaos magic, one that struck me as rather poignant. It's called "GO UNDERGROUND and be a CHAOS MAGICIAN" and is form Joel Biroco's The Exorcist of Revolution. While it's generally an aimless meandering through Biroco's brain (though not at all uninteresting), the thrust of it is that Chaotes cannot be a part of the corporate world and really practice their craft to its greatest depths and heights.

It was from this essay that I first got an image of the peddling magician, creating amulets out of discarded aluminum cans and bits of string and held together with old chewed gum, a sort of modern day begging priest, or goes for you Hellenes out there. I have always liked this model, always thought that it was something that we need in this society, and always thought that there might be a place for me to do such a thing. Well, perhaps not the discarded gum part.

Re-reading the essay, though, brought me to think on it a bit more than I had in the past. I would fall into the "nine-to-five magician" category that Biroco holds up: I live in a corporate world, and the thought of quitting right now does, indeed, scare the hell out of me. I'm pleased with my job, where I am, and where I am going. Contentment, which I'm sure would be frowned upon by Biroco, is something I know in this place right now, even if it is sometimes a bit stressful and often a very hard job.

On the other hand, I purposefully did not arrive here through magical means, nor through ritual, nor even through prayer. I did no work other than the work of my own hands to make it here, put on no ceremonial clothes outside of the suit I interviewed in and the clothes I chose to wear daily, spoke no incantations beyond the statements made in my interview, and manipulated the selection process only by submitting a resumé. Biroco's "nine-to-five magicians" ignore their impulses for a more romantic life, and direct their mystical work toward their own career direction.

Suddenly, I fit the one-tracked, stunted "nine-to-five magician" mold a bit less.

In many ways, I find that the focus I have now (and have always had, though sometimes to greater extent than others) on being careful about what I practice magic for and who I practice it for/on has mitigated some of the limitations of the corporate world that could trap a guy like me: I practice neither on nor for myself. I've developed some interesting amulets over the years (the Cthulhu amulet being one of my favourites), done some amazing sigil work, involved myself in healing rituals that went better than I could have imagined, and given offerings for all sorts of people in amazingly sacred spaces (high on Mt. Olympus and beneath the Temple of Apollo at Delphi being the best of them). All this work was done for others, or at the request of others, and there's very little direct benefit to myself. Certainly, none of it is directed at my choice of career path.

Do I agree with Biroco's thesis, that I am not the magician I could be were I free of the shackles of oppression that the 9-5 world has clasped me in? I think that he might be right on that point. The other half of his thesis, though, that exiting society's rules is the only way to go, that it somehow naturally creates the Chaote and brings him/her to a state of deep magics with great heights, is flawed.

Chaotes are self-made: there Biroco and I appear to agree fully. What I don't agree with, though, is that environments themselves are enough to set our fates and overcome the self-making process.

We are who we are because we wish to be ourselves: no more, no less.

Please forgive my comic book ignorance, but. . .

2009-06-05T18:13:27Z

Can one "subscribe" to a comic book, or do you need to go to the comic book store each month to get your fix?

Because. . . HELL YES

Off to another meeting!

Projects, and a small haircut. A trim, really.

2009-05-26T14:06:22Z

Wellspring [review] has me back in the swing of spirituality, I think. I've got two study programs to finish my own work on (there's an odd, sudden urgency to finishing Trance 2. . . I wonder why?), as well as numerous projects that are in a stage of complete-or-almost-complete that just need that last little bit of work to create the report. Putting the Clergy Training Program to bed is liberating, but it also brings me back around to the next project, which is the completion of the Liturgist Guild Study Program, which needs to be written.

Oh, and as some have noticed, my hair is now cut a tad shorter.

The Hair is 12 inches total, and 8" was the minimum donation length. I blew it away.
Donation was made to Pantene Beautiful Lengths

I've sent my hair off to Wisconsin for redistribution into a wig. It's a bit odd, sending hair off like that (the magician in me cringes at the thought), but it's good hair: thick, long, and never, ever treated with any sort of chemical or dye. I picked Pantene mostly due to the fact that they accept hair as short as 8 inches, which meant that more of my hair was likely to be used. They give hair specifically to women who have cancer, though that didn't factor much into my decision: I don't really care if it's a woman or a child, or if they have cancer or have just gone bald.

I just hope that someone enjoys the hair, and that it helps get them through what they're facing in life.

And for the record, no, I do not miss long hair (I actually hated it with a pretty intense passion), nor will I be doing this again in the foreseeable future. I loved doing it once, but I don't know if I'll ever be up for another round.

Wellspring 2009: Moving Forward

2009-05-26T01:51:20Z

I have to say, as festival years go, this one seems to be the one with the best feelings and generally the best weather I've ever been involved with so far.

Coming off Wellspring now, I'm starting to see patterns: 1) This year's festivals are smaller, more intimate affairs. 2) The festivals have a different energy, one that has been better across the board. 3) I've seen things getting resolved instead of complicated. 4) Each festival is bringing us closer to resolution on particular items that are organization-wide.

I was happy to hear of a couple of particular patch-ups between people that occurred, actually, and to see some change in activity (though on Sunday night I realized that bad gossip may never go away. . . which is okay, since I created some good gossip of my own. . . ask about how I created electricity in my pants!).

The Annual Meeting was particularly good: it was nice to hear about all the things being done for ADF, as well as hearing solutions presented for issues that have been raised over and over. I look forward to completing several of the items I got to personally address, as well as many items others addressed.

Of course, it's clear to me that I simply haven't done enough with the SP's of ADF: that point is drilled back into me all the time (I actually felt that I wouldn't have anything to say when Raven asked for my report, but fortunately, he didn't ask for a report: instead, he allowed me to elaborate on changes that are in place and that will occur). As Jimmy relates from a bar stool in Captain Tony's Saloon: "There's still so much to be done." It's clear to me that we have a long way to go, no matter how visibly excited I may be about what we have accomplished.

The main rite on Sunday night was powerful and deep, possibly one of the most powerful I've ever been to. Right now, I'm ranking it around #3 in my ADF experience, with the Belenos Rite at Summerset 2005 as #1, and my Consecration as #2.

The best part, though, was the note I found on my windshield just before I left, addressed to me but really for the Cranes as a whole. It seems that we had made one member's experience with ADF brighter simply by being who we are: open, outgoing and hospitable. I'm so proud of my Grove and all we've done, and reading the note made my heart burst with pride.

I read the note to the Cranes at lunch when I caught up with them in Erie, PA. I think they were as touched as I was.

All that said, this year is a year to go to festivals: if you can manage it, please, please do yourself a favour and get to one. And if it's Summerland, so much the better :)

Passing Div2, and a review of my work for a change

2009-05-09T11:58:56Z

Wow. I got an e-mail about a week and a half ago from Ian Corrigan saying that my Divination 2 papers were "exemplary" . . . I admit, I had no such thoughts myself. I thought they would be somewhat average.

Among the comments he returned to me were these:

I should write a booklet on runes based on my answers to Req 5
A short article such as "Are the Runes a Magical Alphabet?" should be submitted to OL
The creation of a bind-rune I did for one reading was, and I quote, "good cunning-work." This is an awesome phrase to me
He and I go in completely opposite directions when it comes to public ritual, though: while you'll rarely hear me offer the names of runes, often giving only an interpretation, Ian only gives the name and translation and lets folks figure out the meanings on their own.

I thought his final comment was best, though, as when speaking about a rune reading that we did in public that had a major affect on ADF (that one truly cold Yule when the Grove was first founded; some of you may recall it), he said:

Almost like there was something wyrd going on, innit?

Just. . . wow ;)

Over the last year or two, I've become a lot more in-depth with my reviewing, returning positive comments along with negative ones (should they be necessary) and trying to help the student flesh things out if they'd like to. It's nice to get a response like this one, because it helps to verify that the system I've been developing is something worth doing.

I don't really feel that I can just say, "Oh, you passed." I find it important to highlight certain parts of the piece that I really liked, and discuss what I liked about them. By the same token, we can't just say, "Oh, you didn't pass. Re-write it." If something doesn't pass, I always explain why, and offer suggestions for passage if I can.

This sort of reviewing takes a lot more time, though, and sometimes it's downright hard: I've occasionally come across something so bad that I didn't know what to do with it and had to struggle to find some positives to return. Rare as that is (it's probably happened twice in the past several years), I've believed it important enough to ensure that I've done all I can to make it happen.

Attempting to do this little thing is part of what I do to make ADF a bit brighter, and receiving a review back that's along those same lines makes me feel great about what I'm doing with reviews.

Tweets from Twitter

2009-05-02T16:00:49Z

13:05 Just made my monthly donation to ADF! You can make one too! tinyurl.com/cvso8x #

Indeed, you may follow me on Twitter

An understanding of death

2009-05-02T12:26:41Z

It was a sort of odd feeling, in the wee hours of the Trillium morning [review], when I came to an understanding of death and what it meant to me.

I was writing my workshop, entitled, "An Awfully Big Adventure: Signposts on the Final Journey of Indo-European Souls," and was describing the things met along the way to the Otherworld: the two fires that separate the soul and the body, the various wells and waters, the ferryman who carries you across, the dog who devours, and the king of the dead himself. Over the past few months I've been dealing with death in various ways, considering my own views on it.

I probably ought to back up for a moment: I'm not much of one to dwell on afterlives. In general, my attitude has always been one of "we don't know, and won't until we get there." This has served me pretty well, honestly, for many years, and I have never thought of a coherent afterlife theory as being a requirement for leading a religious life. I had a (perhaps very Indo-European) view that it's not where we end up in the next life that matters, but how we act and what we do in this life. Sort of an expansion of the "it's not the destination, it's the journey" notion that folk often spout out.

Anyway, as I was finishing up the workshop, I found myself putting the pieces together in my head. Using Bruce Lincoln's Death, War and Sacrifice: Studies in Ideology and Practice, I discovered that I was coming to very different conclusions than Lincoln did about what happens after death: his theory was very pessimistic; mine turned out not to be.

In the end, Lincoln responds to the IE myth by saying that there is nothing after death at all: "the otherworld," he says, "[is] nothing more than the grave."

My own response is very different. Death, in an IE sense, really means something: escape from the greedy monster of old age, escape from worry and care, an opportunity to live forever in bliss or knowledge, and (perhaps most importantly) a chance to maintain the cosmos in an ultimate way: to be bound by the Rta or Xartus in the most physical and lasting way possible, by reversing the cycle of creation and thus maintaining the cosmos.

I took my cue for this from the Rgveda, of course. . . Hymn X.16, a hymn regarding the funeral.

May your eye go to the sun, your breath to the wind: go to the heaven and to the earth according to rule, or go to the Waters, if there it is ordained for you! Among the plants to take your place with your limbs!

In other words, when you die, the things that formed you at your creation are returned to the cosmos, to live forever within the cosmic order.

I summed this up some time ago in an ancestor prayer you may have seen, not knowing that I would return to it during this workshop, and find myself understanding death as a result of my writing it:

When you were born,
The earth became your body,
The stone became your bone,
The sea became your blood,
The sun became your eye,
The moon became your mind,
The wind became your breath.

When you passed to the Otherworld,
Your breath became the wind,
Your mind became the moon,
Your eye became the sun,
Your blood became the sea,
Your bone became the stone,
Your body became the earth.

When we were born, you did the same for us:
You called forth the earth and rocks;
The sea arose and the sun descended;
The moon shone down and the winds sang.
For those who come after, we shall do as you did for us
When we are gone, we shall do as you did before.

When I gave that workshop later in the day, I suspect a sense of my awe at the epiphany was pretty conspicuous, though I tried to hide it as best I could.

In many ways, I'm not ready to face the death of someone I dearly love, no matter how near that possibility may have just been for me, but I find myself now with a more complete toolkit for dealing with it when it does, inevitably, happen to me.

speechless

2009-04-28T23:26:54Z

Holy crap. I just located a copy of an article by Anne Ross called "Esus Et Les Trios <<Grues>>" in Études Celtique 1960. . . Yes, that's "Esus and the Three Cranes." Not only does it contain a photo of the other side of the Esus relief at Trier, but it also includes another set of reliefs and pieces that she thinks are relevant.

Of course, I will have to translate the French before I can figure out what the hell she's talking about, but holy crap. . .

And I was just trying (and failing) to locate a suggested article from Ceisiwr Serith when I stumbled on this!

Opening with the Buffett Oracle

2009-04-27T10:33:16Z

128. This world is full of strange behavior; every man has to be his own savior.

Damn straight, Jimmy. Damn straight.

Trillium 2009, and a joyful return

2009-04-21T21:59:21Z

It's true that I haven't missed a Trillium in five years, but it's also true that I don't think I've ever said, "Let's get out of the sun" at Trillium, either, until this year.

Trillium is that festival, you know? It's the one that, the first time you went to it, you said, "Wow, I really need to go to more festivals, because this is awesome!" It's the festival that turns you on to the festival circuit in ADF, that kicks off a year of camping and seeing old friends and meeting new ones all over again.

In short, Trillium reminds me why I'm an ADF member, year after year. It is the closest thing ADF has to a true Spring of Renewal, and I cannot imagine a festival season without it.

Though I was late coming to Trillium this year (I arrived at 2:30 AM on Saturday morning, missing two days of the festival), it didn't at all affect the amount of joy I felt at simply being there. Met by sleepingwolf and Chris at the fire that night, we spoke for a while before I finally put up my tent (in the usual campsite) and fell asleep.

The next morning, I finished my presentation and then went out for a stroll. It was a real pleasure to visit with folks for a very extended period of time for a change, to not be hurrying to the next workshop or worrying about ritual parts. Of course, then I was asked to take the omen at the main rite, so I guess I did end up with a part.

My workshop was entitled "An Awfully Big Adventure: Signposts on the Final Journey of Indo-European Souls," and it focused on the journey a soul experiences in the "generic" IE afterlife (with culturally specific information thrown in to make it applicable, of course). I had been listed on the schedule as "Surprise!" because I had utterly failed to get valkyrvolva a title for the workshop since I'd had so little breathing time to reply to her mailings before the actual event.

I like to think that my workshop was a pleasant surprise. I know it was for me, because in writing the workshop, I came to a new understanding of death and how I, myself, see it. But that's for another time.

After my workshop, I ran into town to do some thrifting (because Trillium is nothing without thrifting, so say I!), and then came back for the main rite, where I did some divination once I realized it was my turn to do something.

At the ritual, we were also privileged to meet Margaret, a new addition to the ADF family, and a beautiful baby girl. druidkirk did a beautiful presentation of the child to the folk (don't listen to him if he tells you he screwed up), and we all got to meet her up close.

The omens for the rite were: , , and

The bardic circle was great, with acousticdryad leading the thing. I remember the first time I heard her singing at Wellspring so many years ago (I honestly thought it was a recording of some great artist at the time), and her voice just gets better every time I hear it. She kept the Bardic Circle running smoothly and gave it an oh-so-subtle push when it started to run out of steam. The Circle itself ran long into the night, with some drumming, but mostly people telling stories about their encounters with divinity, singing a song, or telling a joke. In all, it was one of the best Bardic Circles I think I've ever been at.

Sunday morning saw me up early again, and I grabbed breakfast (an awesome fudgesicle) with druidkirk and then caught up with sleepingwolf for a project that we decided simply needed to be done. I stuck around a bit to discuss next year's Trillium (the theme will be "magic" and I've volunteered to present on "Creating Magical Entities" already), and am already looking forward to doing this all again.

I have to say, it was one amazing weekend. I'm so much more relaxed today than I was when I left on Friday: good friends, good conversation, and a comfortable place to sleep will do that for you, though.

Yeah, I wouldn't trade my Trillium experiences for anything in the world.

Getting a haircut

2009-04-15T12:07:09Z

So, it's time: I'm planning to donate my hair to someplace that makes wigs for kids who have cancer and thus have no hair of their own.

That said, I need some help:

If you have any experience with the various hair-donation organizations, I'd like to hear about it.

At the moment, my hair is between 10 and 11 inches long from the point where I can gather it into a ponytail. I don't know when I'll actually get it cut, but it'll likely be sometime in the next month, so it may get a bit longer to cover for "split ends" which some people like to point out but I simply cannot see (I think my hair is nice and healthy, thankyouverymuch). The hair isn't graying even a little, and has never, ever been dyed.

So, knowing nothing abut hair donation (or even long hair in general. . . you should see me trying to figure out what to do with it in the morning. . . it's a comedy sketch gone wrong), I turn to you guys.

Anything you might know about various Orgs, experiences you may have had, etc. Fire away? I could use the help here. I'm actually pretty lost on where to begin. I also don't know if I need to make an appointment through an Org or through a "supporting" stylist. I don't even know what Orgs are out there!

Writing of dawn before she dawned upon my mind. . .

2009-04-10T04:04:42Z

It occurred to me, moments ago, that I had written a story (inspired by a Grateful Dead lyric I heard when Jimmy Buffett covered "Uncle John's Band") about the beauty of the dawn, long before I had ever kindled a fire at dawn and called out to Usas in prayer:

The Crow's Story

One day, I'd like to find an illustrator and turn it into a children's book. It's probably one of my favourite things that I've ever written.

Same-sex marriage in the Midwest? Yep.

2009-04-03T15:02:59Z

It is astounding how happy an Iowa court case can make me.

"The Iowa statute limiting civil marriage to a union between a man and a woman violates the equal protection clause of the Iowa Constitution." And, "All justices concur."

The best part of the Iowa Supreme Court ruling? They don't amend their constitution via majority rule at the polls. It would also need to pass the Iowa House and Senate twice before going to voters. "Such an amendment requires the votes of a simple majority in both the Iowa House and Iowa Senate in two consecutive sessions, followed by a passing vote of the people of Iowa."

2012 is the earliest this decision could be overturned, and that's only if this current session were to vote on an amendment and pass it.

Holy crap.

Ah, marketing bloggers

2009-03-31T14:58:23Z

Looks like my mention of the Cheeseburger in Paradise restaurant in Columbus, OH, caught the eye of someone in CiP Corporate.

Read their comment in response to my post.
I'm somewhat amused. . . the "libations" have improved, apparently, but no mention of the central issue I had, the cheeseburger, is made.

I do suspect I'll try CiP again. . . a lot can happen in a couple of years in the restaurant business, and Casey will be getting a note back from me (I'm sure that my reply to the comment left won't make it back, since it was "anonymous"). I was thinking about headed back before the comment appeared (actually, while I was writing the post).

I'm highly amused at the way advertising and marketing has gone all bloggy recently, from the (usual) spam to the more targeted commenting (like this). Restaurants and airlines have their own blogs these days, some masquerading as customers with perpetually glowing experiences and some being honest about who they are and who pays them.

Of course, it all gives me a mixed response: social networking wasn't designed for advertising, but it sure is becoming the most heavily-used vehicle for it. I suspect it has something to do with too many young professionals, fresh out of college, who think that the cutting-edge tools are the way to go in all things. . . it begins to form an unbalanced marketing plan, though, I tend to think, especially with the cost of advertising on something like FaceBook or MySpace. . . compared with the annoyance that customers feel toward your advertisement. Still, these advertising schemes work, it seems, as people continue to use them.

Besides, how else are you going to manage to sell "McCafé," "Bob-b-Que," "Vanilla Frosties," "BOBurritos," or any of a million other mis-branded items to skeptical customers? If only the McPizza had had blog and social networking support, it might still be around.

And holy crap. . .

2009-03-30T20:13:11Z

I think I just got asked to officiate a shotgun wedding.

What, you've never seen a guy post pictures of his cats before?

2009-03-30T19:59:28Z

Because they're my boys (and girl), I figured I'd post 'em here:

Magellan (R) and Alexander (L)
March 2009

Infinity, my girl
March 2009

Magellan (R) and Alexander (L)
Daddy is comfy,
a brother is better.

Dreams are odd some days

2009-03-27T13:40:07Z

This morning, in a half-awake dream, I was somehow under the impression that one could stuff their alarm clock beneath their pillow and the tooth fairy would replace it with money.

Oh, if only it were true.

Then my over-sleeping could have been at least partially excused.

Dawn comes lightly into ritual. . .

2009-03-26T20:40:54Z

I remember watching the dawn break on Mt. Olympus, far above Litichoro and the sea. As I stood in the gray light of early morning, watching the mists roll over the mountain, I understood a little better the presence of the dawn in the mind of the poet, and the presence of the divine on Mt. Olympus.

Truly, the blushing bride of the sun, the virgin innocent who blushes fiercely and beautiully when she is seen at her bath, the girl who comes quietly through your window in the morning and brushes her warm fingers across your face and chest and thighs. . . truly, she was there. . .

This past weekend, I had the privilege of doing a ritual attunement and Gate opening that had nothing to do with the regular Two Powers we often use in ritual, but rather had everything to do with Eos, the Greek dawn goddess. I've gotten a couple of compliments on the part I played in the rite, and so I thought I'd share a bit of my own vision of the dawn, who I (of course) associate with the Vedic Usas.

The most important thing to know is this: my own conception of dawn is greatly influenced by those Vedic poets who first spoke of the figure of Usas, rightly (I think) referred to as the most charming figure in descriptive religious lyrics. As a result, I think of the dawn as a beautiful girl on the verge of full-blown womanhood, young and innocent still, touched by neither man nor hardship; yet conscious enough of her body to acknowledge, however slightly, nakedness and vulnerability. I imagine that dawn, personified, is something like this:

In my mind's eye, when I view the dawn I am looking through a keyhole at a young woman bathing in her room, which is richly furnished in dark wood, draped in fabrics with warm hues of orange and red. She may sing to herself, or hum, as she slowly and joyously washes in the deep waters about her, the colours reflecting in the ripples where the waters meet her skin. At length, she rises from the bath, the waters dripping from her bosom in the many colours of the morning, and though she is alone she blushes a deep and soft blush, the colours radiating out from her skin. . . but this vision does not last for more than a the most fleeting of moments, for in a fluid motion she draws forth a cloth that covers her nakedness, walks swiftly across the room and throws open the window to the blinding light of the sun.

In another vision, I see the cool, grey mists of morning enter through my open window. Coming close on the heels of the mists, the dawn rests her fingers upon my window ledge, warming it and drawing colour to it. She then creeps over the sill, gazing down upon me in my slumber, and rests her hand upon my brow, lightly warming me with the warmth of her own touch. Her fingers trail across my face, brushing my hair behind my ear, touching my eyelids, and trailing across my lips and down my neck. Her fingers pass over my chest and stomach, warming them and drawing the first sigh of the morning from my body. She paints the room in fiery colours, drawing pinks, reds, and vibrant oranges across earth and sky. It is this gloriously painted heaven and earth that I view when I open my eyes and find her already gone, though I can still feel her touch and see the joy with which she has painted my world.

Heh. And people think Usas is a patron goddess of mine. Does that look like patronage to you?

Adventures in Dining in a Parrothead World

2009-03-25T19:57:57Z

My recent playlist here in my office:

- "It's My Job," - Jimmy Buffett
- "My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink, and I Don't Love Jesus," - Jimmy Buffett
- "Smart Woman (In A Real Short Skirt)," - Jimmy Buffett
- "Treat Her Like a Lady," - Jimmy Buffett

Trying to stay on top of things today, I realized that I've been two two of Buffett's restaurants, the Margaritaville Cafe in Key West and the Cheeseburger in Paradise here in Columbus, OH. The experiences couldn't have been more different to me.

Yes, I ordered a cheeseburger at both.

First, my experience in Key West:

This experience occurred in March of 2001, when my friend Mitty, his brother Randy, and I ran away to Key West for a week. At least, that was the plan. We ended up driving from Columbus to Key West, sleeping in a pile in the back of the Mittyvan at a rest stop in south Georgia the first night, and spending the night at Camp Sawyer the second night. Yes, the picture at right is the place we stayed. . . and it looked very much like that, except that we had the whole campground to ourselves.

This isn't so much a description of our six hours in Key West, the coconuts we picked from the palm tree that morning for breakfast, the lovely German girl who took my picture on the beach, or the free parking we located on Eaton St, though. This is about an amazing cheeseburger and a strong mango margarita I was drinking an hour before noon that day.

The thing is, I wasn't much of a Parrothead back then: I'd heard some of the music, but by no means had I even begun to grasp the entire catalogue as I have more recently. I still misunderstood the lyrics of a popular song and believed that they referred to a "mean" kosher pickle, which gave me an interesting idea of what I should be eating.

The thing is, though, that the margarita, the medium rare burger, and the atmosphere in the café at 11 AM blended together beautifully, making my memory of the experience a sweet, soft joy in the back of my head. I recall so much about the experience, from the waitress with her soft voice and lovely hair to the smell of the sea air rolling down Duvall Street.

What I remember most, though, is the instant "My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink, and I Don't Love Jesus" came on over the sound system, the joy that lit up my friend Mitty's face, and his shout, "This is awesome! No one plays this song!"

Though I daresay that he might have been even more pleased with "Please Take Your Drunken Fifteen-Year-Old Girlfriend Home."

Now, for comparison, Cheeseburger in Paradise:

I was somewhat excited to see a Cheeseburger in Paradise restaurant had opened up here in Columbus. I was happy to go support Jimmy with my hard-earned dollars (not that my 19 legally-purchased copies of the song "Margaritaville" aren't doing enough), and by now I'd created the Jimmy Buffett ritual (which is still talked about in various circles within ADF), and so I made a trip up with my girlfriend and we sat down to eat after waiting briefly.

In contrast to what I remember about the experience in Key West, my primary memory of Cheeseburger in Paradise is of the menu. It was like an alcoholic's wet dream (forgive the pun, please), involving more ways to get drunk than there were food items on the menu. It was a bright, garish blue with odd yellows and oranges and reds thrown in for accents. It was several pages before I managed to locate the food.

Yes, there's something about gettin' rip-roarin' drunk in Buffett's music (okay, a lot), but the focus is never on the drinking (even in that most prominent of bar jukebox songs, "Why Don't We Get Drunk [and Screw]"), but rather on relationships, the joy of life, and (though few believe me) personal responsibility that leads to an easy lifestyle and brings joy to a responsible person. Even in WDWGDAS, the singer is looking for something more than a hooker and is trying to get to know the other person. . . granted, with alcohol helping, and perhaps I'm willing to read more than I ought, but the singer doesn't come from a state of "I don't care," so much as "I don't think that's true."

So when I was confronted by this menu, I was a bit lost. I mean, what the hell was I, a light drinker at best, to do with such a thing? Still, I ordered my cheeseburger and waited, listening to the Radio Margaritaville-style musical mix (mostly Buffett and Coral Reefer side-projects, with some Bob Marley thrown in for good measure). When the burger arrived, though, I was pretty disappointed: it was small, came with few fries, and (perhaps the worst crime) tasted unforgettably common.

I admit to being pretty disappointed. I suppose I would only have been more disappointed in the place if it had served manatee burgers. Can we say "not getting the concept?" Well, I could. Funny thing is, I'm pretty sure that Jimmy was rather involved in this concept, so I guess it's really just me.

Now, it's been years since I've been to a CiP (or a Margaritaville Café, for that matter), so experiences may be different. But, from one Parrothead to a plethora of disinterested folk, that's my reaction to the two places.

Busy life, lots to do. What's sleep?

2009-03-23T21:05:27Z

Holy crap, I've been busy. Busy, busy, busy. It's not lettin' up, and is (in fact) getting worse.

Yesterday was a great ritual, though I've got that usual sneaking suspicion that I oughtn't try new things at ritual, because sometimes when I do so, I can muck up a perfectly good rite without any help.

On the bright side, though, I got my first light sunburn of the year and I'm happier for it.

We both know we live in different orbits
Different islands different worlds
Though we really are the same
I'm just glad, glad we started talking
Finally realize no one is to blame

I'm working very hard to keep up on my email recently, and doing a fair job of it. Of course, I'm only going on about three or four days of "keeping up," so it's not really worth much.

I've been watching a lot of movies and TV shows in what little down-time I have. Maggie and I are currently in the middle of re-watching Firefly (Grr-Arg). I'm amazed that I have any free time at all, and I often feel like I'm wasting it, getting virtually nothing done when I should be getting craploads done in all cases. There's so much to do, and I just can't really prioritize as well as I used to be able to. I'm pretty sure that I'm neglecting nearly everything I need to do in favour of work.

I want to do what's right, I want to do what's fair

I sent my dad a copy of the HBO John Adams mini-series recently, and I hope he enjoys it. More to the point, I hope he got the DVD player he got last year hooked up to his TV.

Here's hoping that the ADF Clergy Training Program Third Circle will be approved soon. I need to try and get it sent out for wording and discussion on the Clergy Council, but dunno if I'll manage it tonight. . . too much to do, as usual. But, if we get it approved, it'll be the first time since the mid- to late-90's that ADF has had a program of study that could take someone from new member all the way through ordination as an ADF Priest.

This excites me immensely. Immensely.

Yeah with a tin cup for a chalice, fill it up with good red wine
And I'm a chewin' on a honeysuckle vine