Ian Corrigan

1. I should write a booklet on runes based on my answers to Req 5
2. A short article such as "Are the Runes a Magical Alphabet?" should be submitted to OL
3. 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
4. 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.

5. Almost like there was something wyrd going on, innit?

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."

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.

With the aid of a flip chart, West laid out his six-point plan for increased madness, which included field trips to the medieval metaphysics department at Miskatonic University, instruction in the incantations of Yog-Sothoth, and a walkathon sponsored by local businesses to raise money for the freshman basketball program.

brandondedicant

This is my 1,500^th LiveJournal entry, and I want to thank those who have read this journal since 2002. My longest readers are the most special to me, and I often think about what you must have seen as you've followed this blog. Don't worry, there is much more to come.

1. I own my car outright. Final payment is in.
2. Naked cats are going home, to Japan, in less than two weeks.
3. Chuck is on tonight, as every Monday.
4. My Tuesday nights are now free in perpetuity, until I decide to put something else there (PSA is now officially dissolved due to a complete lack of interest, special thanks to tesinth and ns_kumiho for being people who gave a damn).
5. I now own a copy of Smallville Season 7, which I had to stop watching last year because the Grove wanted us to do more "stuff."
6. News, not so hot, on one front where I need lots of good news, but not exactly damning, either. More like throwing an interception and having it returned for a touchdown late in the fourth quarter when you're up by 14. The proper response is always, "Coach, why the hell were we passing?"

• Standard: Safety Off.
• Challenge: You could only fire it in a specific zip code
• Safety: you can't fire the gun at all
• Bible: you could fire the gun as God intended you to when he wrote Genesis and our Constitution.

druidkirk

Just then, at the end of the ninth league, just once
the rough tongue of the North Wind licked at his face.