Till weekend next...

A week of no blogging?

Between connectivity issues and insane work hours, I fear we'll see a bit less of me this week.

Damn, I'm sure you're all crying into your teacups with tremendous grief...

Soundtrack for the week: Old punk from the dawn of time - Sex Pistols, Clash, Joy Division.

Food: Whatever I can grab

Reading Material: Rereads of novels I loved a couple years ago to justify keeping them in the house.

See ya.


Corbid

Coming soon...

For those of you in the same town az Lizzie...The Silver Sea Ceilidh.

Tracklisting for Newest Mix: Punk/new wave/loudness

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Release the Bats - The Birthday Party (The band from whence came Nick Cave)

The Lovecats - very early, very frivolous Cure with coolass piano bits

Soap Commercial - The Psychedelic Furs dry take on advertising with apologies to Andy Warhol

Sympathy for the Devil - a rather odd little Roxy Music cover

Just Lust - The Buzzcocks empitimozing the spirit of pure punk

I've Got A Secret Miniature Camera - Peter Murphy is much more than goth

Julie's In The Drug Squad - The Clash in one of their Ska moods

Dog In Sweden - Xray Spex "Iggy says I wanna be your dog, but I want you to be a demagogue..."

Career Oppurtutnities - The Clash sum up the redundancy of meaningless wage slavedom

Deutscher Girls - Adam Ant was my Elvis Presley, seriously one can never go wrong with hetero boys in pirate shirts, leather pants and eyeliner, at least in my book.

Punk Rock Girl - The Dead Milkmen sing the anthem of our erstwhile teendom...

Young Parisians - Adam and the Ants again, Adam and the motherfucking Ants!

House Of The Rising Sun - Nick Cave was born to sing this song, cover or no

10:15 on A Saturday Night - An old Cure 'B' side with one of my favorite understated guitar solos ever.

Little Know It All - The only new song on the mix. Iggy Pop is still the man.

The Strangest Party - INXS, awash in sexy Australianness

Stuart - "You know what, Stuart, I like you. You're not like the other people here in the trailer park..." Dead Milkmen.



mythology

detritus

opinion

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Listening to...

...London Calling by the Clash. The entire album. Hadn't remembered it being quite this good. Makes me wonder if I should henna my hair today. Nah. Maybe tomorrow. Definitely very soon, anyway. Slow simmering frozen chicken thighs slowly on the stovetop in a dutch oven in a mixture of Cioppino sauce and regular mushroom spaghetti sauce. Smells extroardinary. Playing with the gorgeous baby. Shall have to venture out into the wolrd eventually, I suppose. It is suddenly dawning on me that I'll be working basically a day job soon, and will have very few of these quiet, lazy mornings to savor. So it goes the world, I guess. We adapt or we stagnate and die and that's just not cool at all.

A post Saint Patrick's day bit of amusement...

...shamelessly stolen from Davezilla.com

It's the "We have No Heads" (audio/mpeg Object) song from Denis Leary. I for one have not yet failed to laugh my ass off at this song, but then I am admittedly feebleminded...

Eirinn

May the land rise again

Out of the ashes of Phoenix Park and the bloody streets of Belfast

May her soul rise again

From the ravages of time and the cruel course of history

And the jaded hearts of her lost sons and daughters

An Ocean away

Who dream of a home they never knew

And worship a Mother who welcomes them still

Fragments

Dreamt of staircases and strange faces and things I thought I'd left behind...

Thoughts on having three full time jobs at once...

Well, that was kind of a dumb idea. So I quit the temp job this morning, and plan on working my new job concurrently with my old job for a week or two as I've time for a nap between shifts. But we shall see how long that lasts. Mainly the new job is the new hotness. Or,well maybe not the new hotness but the nice refresshing change for the forseeable future. Better pay, more liveable schedule, time with my wee girls, less thankless job duties, and I'll presumably still have some time now and then to see old friends:)

For now, I am just totally fucking exhausted, though. So it goes.

corbid/saillewillow/whoever...

The Voice Of The Woods Ogham Reading Of The Day...

Birch

A new beginning will change the situation dramatically when it arrives. Much will be different then, so it would be wise to anticipate this by resolving old business, enabling you to truly begin anew.

The first of the Ogham trees, and traditionally the first to have Ogham carved upon it, birch symbolizes beginnings. As both a protector and a gateway to the Otherworld, it also indicates good fortune. There is some risk of hastiness and rashness as well; while good luck can compensate, foresight is also of benefit.



Hazel

While you may not now have all the information you need about the situation, it will come. Gather it as the salmon gathers hazelnuts, and use your logic and your intuition to make a creative and wise decision.

Many Celtic legends involve the hazel tree, and hazelnuts which give wisdom- especially to the salmon that live in the pool under the tree and eat the nuts. Hazel symbolizes deep wisdom and insight, used to inspire creativity and resolve conflict. The hazel is the ninth tree of the Ogham.

Lady Wilde

Lady Jane Francesca Wilde



Lady Jane Francesca Wilde [or ?Speranza'] 1821-96 Wilde's tall and strikingly attractive mother was a talented linguist, poet, and Irish patriot, who had written six books and translated others. Her best-known work is a translation of Meinhold's Sidonia the Sorceress. Lady Wilde's nom de plume, Speranza (the Italian for 'Hope') came from her advocacy of the cause of Irish freedom.



In 1879, following the death of her husband, Lady Wilde left Dublin for London, where she was a central figure of the circle of Irish writers, including George Bernard Shaw and William Butler Years. She contributed her poems and articles to periodicals, including The Woman's World, of which Oscar Wilde was the editor in 1887-9. Under his editorship, he raised its status (formerly called The Lady's World) from a fashion magazine for society ladies to a culture magazine for new, independent women.



During the Wilde trials in 1895, while many of Wilde's friends persuaded him to leave the country, it was Lady Wilde who insisted that he should stay and stand trial: 'If you stay, even if you go to prison, you will always be my son. It will make no difference to my affection. But if you go, I will never speak to you again.' After Wilde's conviction, however, her health declined rapidly in her despair and sorrow for 'dear Oscar'. She died in February 1896. Learning that she would not be able to see him again on her deathbed, she said, 'may the prison help him'.

Happy F%$&ing Saint Patrick's Day To All...

Guinness is Gaelic For Genius, you know. So drink to superior intelligence and listen to the Pogues and BLACK 47.


Here's some lyrics about Michael Collins:


THE BIG FELLAH


Mo chara is mo lao thu!

My friend and my calf

Is aisling trí néallaibh

A vision in dream

Do deineadh aréir dom

Was revealed to me last night

IgCorcaigh go déanach

In Cork, a late hour,

Ar leaba im aonar

In my solitary bed


I remember you back in the GPO with Connolly and Clarke

Laughin' with McDermott through the bullets and the sparks

Always with the smart remark, your eyes blazin' and blue

But when we needed confidence we always turned to you

And when they shot our leaders up against Kilmainham wall

You were there beside us in that awful Easter dawn

Hey, big fellah..........where the hell are you now

When we need you the most

Hey, big fellah..........c'mon


Tabhair dom do lámh

Give me your hand


Back on the streets of Dublin when we fought the black and tans

You were there beside us, a towerin' mighty man

And God help the informer or the hated English spy

By Jaysus, Mick, you'd crucify them without the blinkin' of an eye

Still you had a heart as soft as the early mornin' dew

Every widow, whore and orphan could always turn to you

We beat them in the cities and we whipped them in the streets

And the world hailed Michael Collins, our commander and our chief

And they sent you off to London to negotiate a deal

And to gain us a republic, united, boys, and real

But the women and the drink, Mick, they must have got to you

'Cause you came back with a country divided up in two

Musing on a topic of note...

... in response to a blog post that Lizzie

may or may not publish...

"Soul Love "

Words and music by David Bowie


Stone love - she kneels before the grave

A brave son - who gave his life to see the slogan

That hovers between the headstone and her eyes

For they penetrate her grieving


New love - a boy and girl are talking

New worlds - that only they can share in

New words - a love so strong it tears their hearts

To sleep - through the fleeting hours of morning

Love is careless in its choosing - sweeping over cross a baby

Love descends on those defenseless

Idiot love will spark the fusion

Inspirations have I none - just to touch the flaming dove

All I have is my love of love - and love is not loving


Soul love - the priest that tastes the word and

Told of love - and how my God on high is

All love - though reaching up my loneliness evolves

By the blindness that surrounds him


Love is careless in its choosing - sweeping over cross a baby

Love descends on those defenseless

Idiot love will spark the fusion

Inspirations have I none - just to touch the flaming dove

All I have is my love of love - and love is not loving

Okay...

I now technically have three full time jobs...

I'm just a girl who cain't say no...

We shall just have to see what happens. More details to come. I shall certainly be busy, in any case. Lalala.

William Blake Tarot of the day

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Nine of Science (Despair): Experiencing mental anguish or self-pity. Grief. Depression. Insomnia. Escaping reality. Hiding from joy and innocence. Feeling isolated and alone. Self-cruelty. In the creative process: Your creativity is blocked by self-judgments and criticism. Forgive yourself and get back to the basics; recapture your innocence and rejoin the human family.



Angel of Science: "Quis basin demonstret? (Who would demonstrate the foundation?)". Floating in the realm of pure or abstract thought. Objective, unemotional, and unbiased thinking. Mental speculation, exploration, meditation. A brilliant insight bursting through. Stimulus to organize or systematize. Precision and clarity of vision. In the creative process: An intellectual vision or perfect insight inspires you to rise above yourself.





mythology

detritus

opinion

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Stress alert fades from red to yellow...

Had two job interviews this morning and both went well. Feeling slightly better about myself, but I have Maggie's IEP assessment next, so that could change. Still, there's nothing like a skills assessment at a temp agency for stroking the old ego. I tested about 9100 keystrokes per hour on alphanumeric data entry and 96% proficiency on a version of Microsoft Word that i've never seen before, plus got bonus points for having a "well written" resume and submitting it via email. How that translates into money in my pocket remains to be seen, but it's something of an antidote to the constant negativity and focus on minutiae in my current work environment. You can actually be written up for taking a 5 minute restroom break off schedule or for being a word or two off script. It's phenomenally degrading. I must exit as soon as possible to preserve my sanity.

whatf#%$&ingever, right?

Redundancy ensues. I've decided it's time to leave my current thankless, lifesapping, no future job for another thankless, lifesapping no future job. I am never getting back to school at this rate. I am never getting the motivation to change my life ever, I've become convinced. I will never own a house, I will never have a job I love, I will always be a disappointment to my family and friends. It's just a fact of life. Why don't I get used to it already and give up trying? I used to be so good at that. I used to be so good at turning off life and watching it like it was on a television screen and just not caring. Instead I wish for stupid things like people to care about me or see some sort of talent in me or something that makes me other than a phenomenal waste of breath and space. Whereas I think most of the people I know would gladly forget about me forever if they thought for a second that I would leave them alone. If I died tomorrow, my immediate family would feel some impact, but everyone else would say "oh isn't that a damned shame" and promptly cease to think of me ever again. I insinuate myself into the lives of others and try to make myself indispensable, because otherwise what would they want me around for? Certainly not my esteemed company. I am a service for hire, rather than a worthwhile person. I truly believe this. I am an ear for listening and understanding, but as soon as I open my mouth everyone tunes out because I am a fucking bore, I am a pompous ass, I am a big, fucking self important idiot. And if I hadn't had so much potential to be otherwise at some point, it wouldn't matter, but I am a failure. Utter and complete. I am the big Lazarus Mistake. They should not have raised me from the dead. They should never have let me marry or procreate. There are wonderful people who rely on my and I am no one to be relied upon. I am the biggest fuckup on the planet. Why do I aspire to anything other than that. I am a big fuckup who has a weblog that nobody reads. That's what I am. Queen Fuckup.

Oscar Wilde Quote of the Day...

"She who hesitates is won."

For more of the same, visit The Random Oscar Wilde Quotes Page.

If you'd ever wondered...

A myth dispelled on the Guiness site:

Is it true that you get a much better pint in Ireland?

For GUINNESS® brewed outside Ireland the water will be different of course because we always use pure, fresh water from local natural sources. In blind tests though, (with a bunch of highly cynical journalists!), none of our sample could tell the difference. That said, all GUINNESS® sold in North America is brewed in Ireland at the historic St .James's Gate Brewery in Dublin. So, the only real difference you should be able to spot is the pub that you're drinking in!

Rhapsody

I must confess, after the initial skepticism, I've become quite the fan of Rhapsody. I love the on demand aspect of the service and the interface, which gives little bios and links and offers net radio stations which at least in theory will complement the artists you've already chosen as your favorites, thus expanding one's musical horizons somewhat. Plus the chance to preview entire albums for a decent period of time to see if they might be worth buying and view entire discographies of artists even when they aren't available for listening purposes. Slight frustration factors abound, such as the fact that the entire catalog of Scud Mountain Boys CDs can be listened to but not burned, therefore residing only in my computer until I can scrape up the funds to purchase the lot of them soemday. And things of that nature. But overall, I believe it doth rock as far as pay music services go. I do believe online distribution is the logical direction of the music industry as a whole and may in fact change the nature of the evil corporate beastie a bit if we make our voices heard. I also believe the glass if half full, though...

Pseudo intellectualism or crass consumerism, tell me for I do not know

Reading Material of the moment: A Sideways Look at Time by Jay Griffiths.

DVD Rental of the day:The Business Of Fancydancing, written and directed by Sherman Alexie.

Rhapsody Addiction of the Moment: The Instigator by Rhett Miller.


Caffeine by Red Rose tea, french fries by Ore Ida, for everything else there's Mastercard?

Yet Another Amnesty International Alert...

Oh, my heart, it doth bleed yet again...indulge me anyway.End Racial Profiling Now...

Look what I found this morning!

The most depressing web page in the world, possibly...

"...we should be old by now..."

Apparently, today is Lou Reed's 62nd birthday.

And my sister's 26th.

And time doth march on.

Meanwhile. I'm still thinking...

Lunching on shrimp tossed with finely sliced tomatoes and cucumbers in vinaigrette. Cheap luxury. Reading a book on the nature of Time. Lazy intellectualism. Listening to Duran Duran. Instant nostalgia trip. What a world I'm living in. Time spirals in on itself. In need of new material. Wrote a new vampire poem based on half a memory of one I'd written years ago. Pretention shall be the death of me someday. For now I'm just enjoying the ride.


Peace Out,

corbid on a Sunday Afternoon

"blackeyed man he took the blame for the poisoning of the well..."

The Flu

My review of the flu is that it really sucks, especially when you've had your shot and you still get it anyway...

If your name is Tina or Lizzie...

...tomorrow would be a great day to call your oldest friend :)

friday five anachronistically... Literary Five

1. What is your favorite type of literature to read (magazine, newspaper, novels, nonfiction, poetry, etc.)? A witty magazine, a subversive newspaper, a brilliant novel, enlightening nonficiton, cleverly worded poetry.

2. What is your favorite novel? "Animal Dreams" by Barbara Kingsolver, "Stardust" by Neil Gaiman, "The Mists of Avalon" by Marion Zimmer Bradley, "Reservation Blues" by Sherman Alexie, "The Bell Jar" by Sylvia Plath... F***, I can't decide.

3. Do you have a favorite poem? (Share it!) "When You Are Old" by William Butler Yeats.

4. What is one thing you've always wanted to read, or wish you had more time to read? "The White Goddess" by Robert Graves.

5. What are you currently reading? A Charles De Lint short story anthology, A Lester Bangs rock criticism anthology, a book on cascading style sheets, another book on languauge development in babies and toddlers, and a couple days worth of newspapers. No wonder I feel so disjointed of late.

Bite Me

I invited the Vampire into my chamber

Because I was bored

Because it looked pretty

Because I'm no stranger to bloodletting

And it leaves such pretty corpses

Bloodless and pockets emptied but

With stories to tell in stone

And costumes and long locks of hair

And I know how to speak to the dead

And I know how to be one dead

So I open the vein

A little more

Wouldn't want Nosferatu

To break a tooth on me

The wounds sting when they're not bled

When the beast disappears

It's time to start trolling the streets

Like some ratmad Renfield

Or the Ripper's muse

Tracing the footsteps

For others of that inclination

Elusive devils

They don't seem to congregate

And when they do it is of a dangerous sort

For the purposes of collective hunting

Of souldraining blooddraining

Of lovefeigning mindreigning

And they eat the flesh and spit out the bones

And I haven't the flesh for the task so

Here I am, back in the chamber

Licking my stigmata

Till the wounds heal or the creature wakes

In silence that echoes

Because the dead won't shut up

They're like anyone else

And I say to the thing

In its velvet lined coffin

"This Sucks"

I am shocked, shocked to find that there has been gambling in this establishment...

Five things I never learned to do...

1) Ride a bicycle

2)Snap my fingers

3)Whistle

4)Read sheet music

5)Drive stick shift

Queen Boudicca

Boudicca, Queen of the Iceni

(Also known as Boadicea) Died A.D. 60



Boudicca has been the subject of myth and legend for centuries. Revered as a symbol of British freedom, stories of her heroism have been told to English schoolchildren for the past two hundred years. In fact, she was the wife of King Prasutagus of the Iceni, a British tribe that lived near the modern town of Colchester during the time of the Roman Emperor Nero. When Prasutagus, an ally of the Romans died, the local Roman government officials decided that they would seize her wealth and lands for themselves. When Boudicca protested, saying that she was a Roman ally who was being treated no better than a slave, the Roman soldiers flogged her and raped her daughters.



This was an atrocity that Boudicca was not about to bear without a fight. She called her tribe to arms and rebellion against the Romans. The first town to suffer her furious vengeance was Colchester, known to the Romans as Camulodunum. She burned the town and slaughtered the inhabitants. Suetonius Paulinus, the Roman governor of Britain, was away in the North destroying the Druids on the island of Anglesey when news of Boudicca's attack reached him. His army proceeded south in an orderly fashion, marching twenty-four miles each day and setting camp. Meanwhile, Boudicca was headed toward Verulamium (St. Albans). She would avoid any fortified place but attack regions where the plunder was great and the defenses were weak The Second Augusta Legion, under Petillius Cerialis, met Boudicca's eighty to one-hundred thousand rebels with two thousand Roman troops. They were almost totally wiped out, with only the cavalry escaping. After Verulamium was put to the torch, Suetonius entered Londinium (London). He advised the citizens to leave, and offered to take them with him. He didn't have enough troops with him to defend the town, and the garrison there was much too small to deal effectively with Boudicca. The main part of Suetonius?army would not arrive for many days. In the words of Tacitus, he sacrificed a town to save a province.



Word of Boudicca's barbaric deeds paralyzed the British countryside with fear. Again, we have Tacitus to tell us what happened. The British did not take or sell prisoners. They could not wait to cut throats, burn, hang, and crucify. Even today, when foundations are being dug for a new building in the three towns destroyed by Boudiccas's rebels, a thick layer of ash gives mute testimony to the completeness of the devastation. There is an unexpected benefit for the historians, though. By digging to discover what parts of the modern city have this buried layer of ash, they can map the extent of the ancient towns as they existed in the time of Boudicca when they had been in existence only fourteen years



Suetonius' careful planning and patience finally paid off. Instead of rushing into battle against a much larger force, he chose a place to meet Boudicca where his 10,000 legionaries would have the advantage against her rather disorganized 100,000 rebels. With dense woods at his back to protect him from ambush, he waited in a narrow defile for her to attack. The British were so confident of victory that they brought their families out to watch them slaughter the Romans. All day long, the British sent wave after wave of attackers against Suetonius?well-disciplined troops. Towards evening, the Romans got the upper hand and attacked, trapping the British against their own wagons and pack animals. The Romans slaughtered about 80,000 Britons, including women, children, and old men, repaying atrocities in kind. Boudicca and her two daughters poisoned themselves rather than be captured and made to walk in a triumphal procession in Rome as prisoners of war. Though both of them were responsible for much brutality in this, the Boudiccan Revolt, they are celebrated as heroes in English history and legend today

It's time for...

...McSweeney's links!

More Pope Reviews

McSweeney's

Internet Tendency:Confessions of a New Coffee Drinker

Popular Children's Fairy Tales Reimagined Using Members of The Author's Family

Is It the Flu?

The American Canon of the Choose-Your-Own-Adventure

It's not easy being green...

Corbid is a bit, shall we say, under the weather of late.

Not to regale you all with the sordid details, but the gist of it is that if I don't eat, I am fine until I grow weak from low blood sugar, at which point I must eat, but then when I do I grow feverish and kind of seasick and it all begins again.



Oh there was an old lady who swallowed a fly

I don't know why she swallowed the fly

Perhaps she'll die...


(Hey, you there with the elipses! Why must you always oversue the elipses? Why must you end every sentence like this...)


Distracted ramblings of a feverish brain.


Feel free to make fun of them in the comments section.


Shall sink back into my fever dream with a soundtrack by Nick Drake, courtesy of Rhapsody which is well worth the ten bucks a month if only for the immediacy of it...(more elipses, wtf?)

Dreamt I was hanging out with Lizzie and the Chrisful one, eating leftover Lucky Wishbone in one of the motel rooms at her parents' motel. And Lizzie had cut her hair and dyed it black for some reason and had purple eyeshadow and fake lashes but was otherwise gothed out to the nines, and Chris had a Bowie haircut and a red velvet frock coat. And instead of having game night, we were going to the fineline (which doesn't even exist anyomore) and then meeting friends at a certain local bar to try and solicit them to come to our Ceilidh. And in the dream Lucky Wishbone was famous for its pickled peppers...strange.

What happens to little boys who make things up...

From an interview in The Onion with Neil Gaiman:


"All my life, I've felt that I was getting away with something because I was just making things up and writing them down, and that one day there would be a knock, and a man with a clipboard would be standing there and say, "It says here you've just been making things up all these years. Now it's time to go off and work in a bank." Because my grandmother or whoever would always warn me, as they always warn children, "Don't make things up! You know what happens to little boys who make things up!" But they never tell you what happens. As far as I can tell, it involves being able to spend a lot of time at home, plus a bit of international travel, and staying in nice hotels, and lots of very nice people who want you to sign things for them. So."


Someday I want to meet the guy just so I can muss up his hair and smile at him indulgently and go "awww..."

Tarot Cards of the Day

Three of Poetry (Creativity):

'I must Create a System, or be enslav'd by another Mans I will not Reason & Compare: my business is to Create'. A creative opportunity presents itself. A lucky break is in store for you. Taking an imaginative or literary approach is favored. A revelation of truth is at hand. All the pieces are falling into place. You achieve an understanding that has far-reaching implications. In the creative process: You get the go-ahead to 'do your thing'; your project has special blessing at this time because of your ability to see an overview or get the big picture.



Woman of Music:

"Loud & more loud the living music floats upon the air". Desire for beauty, grace, and tranquility in your surroundings. Tuning in to the emotions and needs of people around you. Psychic abilities. Using your talents and charm to best effect. Finding benefit in solitude and dreams. Uninhibited exploration and expression of ideas and feeling. In the creative process: You vibrate in tune with everything around you, sensitively aware of life energy in all its forms, from which to create something new through the filter of your own consciousness.

my internal dj is persistent

I'm afraid I'm going to have "Radio Free Europe" stuck in my head for days...

Somebody has a birthday today...

Bowie Review Part II

The lights dropped. There was some amazing digital animation onscreen featuring a backing band and a blonde man with a harmonica. From backstage, came a familiarly deep, laughing voice...


And the crowd went wild...


He started in with "Rebel Rebel." He was wearing a black denim jacket with tuxedo tails and tight black jeans (dear god) as he posed and strutted and teased the audience. Mick Jagger has nothing on Bowie in their collective middle age.

Two songs off "Reality" followed (great album.)Then Bowie's cover of "Cactus" (even better live.)Then a big tease with "China Girl" (offered to let the audience sing, sat back and listened for a line or two, then took the stage and said "well, that was just fuckin' tragic, I'd better sing it myself.")


At this point, it all becomes a blur of transcendental blissfulness. I remember there was lots of material from the Eno compilations, especially "Low," and he played both "Man Who Sold The World," and "Life On Mars?" to Lizzie's great delight. He dedicated "Heroes" to the people of America, post 9/11.

At some point the topcoat and then a zebra striped jacket beneath fell away, revealing a skintight t-shirt of unknown logo. Jesus the man is well built for being 58 years old!


The band included the incomparable Earl Slick on guitar and the origianl keyboardist from "the Spiders" and of course Lizzie's "imaginary girlfriend" on bass. I'll let Lizzie explain that one...Anyway, suffice it to say, they rocked. But nothing compared to the encore...


The Ziggy Stardust Encore.


It began with "Hang On To Yourself' which I consider one of the world's first punk songs:

"Well it really comes out better on a stolen guitar/you're the blessed/we're the Spiders from Mars"

I was pogoing in my 4 inch boots and red velvet and tossing my pigtails wildly. Lizzie was transfixed (and corseted in plaid, in case you were wondering.)

It continued:

"Five Years," "Suffragette City," and last but not least "Ziggy Stardust" itself. So that the last words our idol sang to us were...


..."Ziggy played gui..taaar.."


We were fifteen years old again, not grown women with Hello Kitty accessories.We were awestruck. We were starstruck. We were speechless. We barely spoke the whole way home, just listened to CDs and digested the experience. Even skipped the traditional Waffle House outing on the way back. I think we were a bit physically and psychically exhausted. I for one slept like a wee baby thereafter.

Anyway, I shall die fulfilled now. I have indeed seen God. And if I haven't said it properly quite yet, I'll say it now:


Thank you,Lizzie!!!


And now, as if that weren't enough, here's a Friday Five:



When was the last time you...



1. ...went to the doctor? About 3 months ago.


2. ...went to the dentist? You don't want to know...


3. ...filled your gas tank? Today!


4. ...got enough sleep? Sunday, for a change.


5. ...backed up your computer? What? You mean it doesn't do that for me?

Tarot for the Day (William Blake deck)

Liberty: An emerging and powerful sense of personal freedom. Hearing a call to action. Awakening to a deeper level of awareness or sense of spiritual self. A rebirth or basic change of state. Making an important decision or judgment, perhaps one long delayed. Being released from limiting circumstances.



Child of Painting: Riding the wave of prosperity. A time to show your hand and reveal your innate powers. Enjoying a position of material advantage. Putting forth charisma. Hedonistic enjoyment. Drug experimentation. Surfing the Internet. Total absorption in your activities. Trusting your body and instincts. Open to new experiences. In the creative process: Now is a time to experiment with processes and materials, taking great pleasure in what you learn and create.

Or maybe it's just me.

Happened to catch about 5 minutes of "Oprah" today and was a mite perplexed. A couple was sitting there beaming as the wife rather sweetly explained that she didn't blame her almost total lack of sexual fulfilment on her husband, and that she knew he loved her very much, etc,etc. She confessed that she continually "faked it" because she didn't want him to feel bad.


Um...

It occurs to me that if you don't want the guy to feel bad, then maybe you shouldn't bring him on Oprah and tell the world how bad he is at sex. You know, for starters.

The Velvet Underground

Have fallen in love with the second Velvet Underground album, particularly the song "The Murder Mystery."
Shall have a new mix tracklisting up in the near future including this and many other things...

Since it's been two weeks already...

Part I of he long awaited Bowie Review:


Many years ago in Phoenix, my best friend Lizzie and I relaized a lifelong aspiration and saw David Bowie in concert with Nine Inch Nails on the "Outside" tour. Spaz girl that I am, I forgot the tickets, which we realized when we were halfway there, We had to turn back and start over and missed the opening band (does anybody remember Prick? Thought not)


While that was a great show in many ways, I think that we both came away a tiny bit disappointed. Partly this was the fault of the Nine Inch Nails fans, who were rude and loud and threw ice at His Royal Bowieness, costing us an encore and prompting the Man himself to stop midsong and adress the audience with in an elegant tone of gracious disdain: "Excuse me, would you like us to continue the show? All right, then. Thank you."


Also, Bowie was in the midst of one of his "no hits" phases and refused to play the classics of his catalogue. So while there were lots of nods to the past, especially the "Scary Monsters" LP, we heard none of the anthems of our teenage fandom. Plus, one must admit, the songs on "Outside" are for the most part rather creepy and depressing.


So in many ways, Phoenix 1995 was a bust Bowiewise for us. Lizzie has since had the oppurtunity to see concerts in both Las Vegas and San Francisco. And, enviably, was noticed by Bowie at the San Francisco show, even if it was just for entering the venue slightly late. "Fashionably" late is, in case you haven't noticed, sort of our M.O. when it comes to things of this nature:)


And late we were once again. I blame mapquest, but then again, I was in charge of the mapquesting. And somebody who shall remain nameless got a bit insecure about their outfit and hair arrangement choices...We headed out a bit late, with the Chrisful one and the Lovely Miss Thea in tow, and a truckful of caffeine and Luna bars, with "Reality" blasting from the speakers.


Anyway, the short version is that we once again missed the opening act. It's getting to be a tradition, like going to late night diners and ordering the hashbrowns afterwards (although this time we did drive through Jack In The Box and bacon cheese potato wedges - we're getting lazy in our old age.) So, no Macy Gray for us. We settled in nicely just as the intermission began, and even had time to acquire food and beer (my god, does the Dodge Theatre make an excellent Chicken Caesar Salad...) and awaited the culmination of our pilgrimage...



(To Be Continued.)

I'm a little hennahead princess

Marinating yet again...

oblique strategies of the day (ala brian eno)

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Don't be frightened of cliches



Look closely at the most embarrassing details & amplify them





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Ceridwen

Ceridwen is a magician who features in the mythical version of the life of the genuine bard Taliesin. Ceridwen had an ugly son, Afagddu ("ugly"), whom she wished to make wise. She brewed a magical liquid and had her kitchen boy Gwion tend it. Three drops scalded his hand and he licked them off, instantly acquiring all the knowledge. In an ancient, ancient hunt she pursued him: first she became a greyhound and he a hare, then she an otter and he a fish, then she a hawk and he a rabbit. Finally, she became a hen and he a grain of corn, and she ate him. She became pregnant with him and he was born nine months later, a boy of astounding grace and beauty whom she named Taliesin and put into a coracle in the sea.

More politicism, but for a good cause

Passed on by a friend: as it becomes more and more certain that President Bush was aware there was no credible evidence of Weapons of Mass Destruction in Iraq, the "Moveon" organization has issued a call for censure. I swear to god the next post will be amusing or insightful and not so bleeding heart, knee jerk liberally biased...

A forward from my inbox

Why not make this your good deed for the day...

From: Online Action Center Alert List

Date: 02/17/04 09:06:49

To: corbid@cox.net

Subject: Action Needed Immediately to Protect Rodi Alvarado



Dear Corbid:


Your action is needed immediately to help protect Rodi Alvarado and other women fleeing gender persecution.


Nearly a year ago, Attorney General John Ashcroft said that he would personally decide the asylum case of Rodi Alvarado, a Guatemalan woman whose government failed to protect her during ten years of horrific abuse by her husband. When deciding that case, Ashcroft also planned to issue regulations that could bar many people, especially women fleeing gender-based persecution, from asylum in the United States. Fearing that the Attorney General would deny Ms. Alvarado asylum and issue restrictive regulations, Amnesty campaigned to prevent such a decision. There has been no decision so far, but now it seems imminent.


--> Please send appeals in your own words as quickly as possible to U.S. Attorney General John Ashcroft and to Homeland Security Secretary Tom Ridge. To take action, click on this link or paste it into your Web browser:

http://takeaction.amnestyusa.org/ctt.asp?u=624826&l=7991



About Rodi Alvarado


The terrible facts of Rodi Alvarado's case are undisputed. She fled Guatemala and applied for asylum in the United States in 1995, after suffering ten years of relentless domestic abuse. Her husband Francisco Osorio, a former soldier, attempted to abort their second child by kicking her in the spine, dislocated her jaw, tried to cut her hands off with a machete, kicked her in the genitals, and used her head to break windows and mirrors. Ms. Alvarado sought assistance from the Guatemalan police and the courts - in vain. If Mr. Ashcroft denies asylum to Rodi Alvarado, she would be deported to Guatemala, where she faces battering and possible killing by her husband, who has vowed to find her.



Online Action Center

Amnesty International USA

Sunday Morning

Ghost of a touch recedes on waking

Invisibly substantial as a phantom limb

Some hearts dream paralell and others silent

Sing prayers and speak in sighs to purge the heart to save the soul

Salvation is elusive

Redemption something other

Save your soul

On a block of ice

Fresh and bloody for the wolves outside your door

Hang on cruel words like crosses

Welcome your hells and favorite torturers

Rise from the depths and live once more

In richness and sin

Until Sunday comes again

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Four of Cups (Mixed Happiness): Find a moment of peace and balance. Action is possible and will lead to growth.



Two of Swords (Peace): Tranquility. Opportunity for prospering.



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Coming soon...

Confessions of a call center indentured servant...

Unicorns

Myth of the Day:The unicorn is a legendary animal. It is usually portrayed as a slender, white horse with a spiraling horn on its forehead, although its appearance and behavior differs, depending on the location. In the west it was usually considered wild and untamable, while in the Orient it was peaceful, meek and thought to be the bringer of good luck. There it is usually depicted as a goat-like creature, with cloven hooves and a beard. In Japan it is called Kirin, and in China Ki-lin.

The word "unicorn" is based on the Hebrew word re'em ("horn"), in early versions of the Old Testament translated as "monokeros", meaning "one horn", which became "unicorn" in English. The creature is possibly based on the rhinoceros or the narwhal, a marine creature with one horn.



In the west it was first mentioned by the Greek historian Ctesias in 398 BCE. According to him they lived in India and he described them as 'wild asses which are as big as a horse, even bigger. Their bodies are white, their heads dark red and their eyes are deep blue. They have a single horn on their forehead which is approximately half-a-meter long.' This description was based on the tales of travelers, and is a mixture of an Indian rhinoceros, the Himalayan antelope, and the wild ass.



The horn itself is white at the base, black in the middle and with a sharp, red tip. It is believed to possess healing abilities. Dust filed from the horn was thought to protect against poison, and many diseases. It could even resurrect the dead. Amongst royalty and nobility in the Middle Ages, it became quite fashionable to own a drinking cup made of the horn of an unicorn, not in the least because it was supposed to detect poison.



The belief in the healing abilities of the horn is probably based on a medieval story. In this particular tale, many animals once gathered around a pool in the midst of night. The water was poisoned and they could not drink from it, until a unicorn appeared. He simply dipped his horn in the pool and the water became fresh and clean again.



Another medieval story tells of the capture of a unicorn by a maiden. The unicorn was far too fast and wild for the man that was hunting him. He could only be tamed by a maiden who sat lonely underneath a tree in the woods. Attracted by the scent of purity he would lay his head on her lap and she would rock him to sleep. Then she would cut of his horn, and leave him for the hunter and his dogs.



There have been attempts to give these tales a Christian interpretation. In the first tale the horn symbolizes the cross and the pool the sins of the world. In the second story the maiden was Maria, the unicorn Jesus Christ and the horn a representation of the unity of the Father and the Son. Jesus, embodied in the unicorn, was killed for sake of a sinful world.





Article details

N/A



Article created on 03 March 1997; last modified on 25 April 2001.

� 1995-2004 Encyclopedia Mythica. All rights reserved.





"Unicorn." Encyclopedia Mythica from Encyclopedia Mythica Online.

[Accessed February 16, 2004].

100 Hersheys Kisses Just For You

Happy Valentine's Day to one and all, from the girl who always has candy:Virtual Hersheys Kisses.


And following that, an excerpt from a strange story...

Part II: Why Bowie was singularly suited to be our muse...plus Friday Five

I dont know what it was anout Bowie that really spoke to the core of me, even more so than previous obsessions such as Pink Floyd or John Lennon or the vast array of punkdom. Maybe because it was more than music. Bowie wrote philosophical science fiction epics and passed them off as rock albums. He was odd and brilliant and full of strange light. His genre was a sort of postmodern vaudville, theatre and sound and sexual energy combined with tremendous energy and wit. And even though he was an elder statesman of sorts even then, to us in the Reaganoid wasteland that was 1988, he was an undiscovered country. Little rebellious, oddball teenage girls with literary pretentions and dragon rings, reading Dylan Thomas and watching Dr Who over the phone on Saturday nights. No hero more fit for us than this exotic creature with two toned eyes and engulfing aura, who was both outcast and idol, icon and iconoclast. Or, in his own words, "comedian, chameleon, Corinthian, and caricature."


Random Bowie moments:


1991 - Senior year, we are assigned to audition freeform solo projects in Choir. Lizzie and decide to collaborate on a relatively odd and unknown Bowie song "The Man Who Sold The World," with me taking the lead vocal and Lizzie on piano and harmony.


1994 - Kurt Cobain less than a week dead, I flip on the radio to hear Nirvana singing "my" Bowie song. Chills run down my spine.


1995 - At last we have a chance to see the Man live, in Phoenix, on tour with Nine Inch Nails, on the "Outside" tour. That story I shall relate in the next installment...


For now, Friday Five:


1. Are you superstitious?

Superstitious, Obsessive Compulsive, tomato,tomahto...


2. What extremes have you heard of someone going to in the name of superstition?

My parents gave up an oppurtunity to see a solar eclipse in Mexico because they thought the Rapture was coming, I swear to god.


3. Believer or not, what's your favorite superstition?

A superstition prevalent in my own family's tradition is that one must include money in any gift of a purse or wallet. Every year for Christmas, my sister and I would claim we needed a new wallet :)


4. Do you believe in luck? If yes, do you have a lucky number/article of clothing/ritual?

Number of icons, necklaces and soforth that give me a sense of personal comfort.


5. Do you believe in astrology? Why or why not?

I believe all forms of divination are akin to inkblots. Useful as a means of perspective rather than actual fortunetelling.

Watching the movie "Sylvia"...

So far, the primary message of the movie is that poetesses write better poetry when men treat them like shit. The movie "Frida" seemed to imply similar things about women artists. Disturbing trend. Do you suppose there's any truth to it? Is misery a prerequisite for great art? And if so, is it better to have a society full of happy individuals with no creative output, or one with a few unredeemably ravaged souls, but lots of beautiful forms of expression?


How's that for a loaded question?

Whilst, a bit of a cliche as well, I suppose.

So no points for me today originalitywise...

On Bowie

This is part one in a series leading up to my actual review of the concert.

I feel that first I must expound upon the import of Bowieness upon the formation of my youth.

Bear with me as I was nostalgic and self importnat...



Part I: Ziggy Saves


When I was 14, my best friend lent me a copy of "Never Let Me Down" and rented the movie "Labyrinth" for me.

I lapped it up like cream set before a housecat and was dying for more. It was 1988 and Bowie's catalogue had not yet been rereleased by Ryko, so the only way to find the bulk of it was to go trolling the aisles of Bookman's for ancient original cassette releases.


Sophomore year, I found what I was after. Manna from heaven. The Holy Grail. I came to possess a copy of "The Rise and Fall Of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars."Lying on my floor, feet up against the dresser, eyes closed, I imagined the story of the Starman rock saviour coming down to save a world that had only five years left to live. I was transfixed, I was transformed.


coming soon...why Bowie?

Bowie in the Hollywood Tarot

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Bowie as the nine of Pentacles



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David Bowie's Two Coloured Eyes

Myth of the Day:





Why has David got odd looking eyes?



He has a condition called aniscoria, which is the medical term for unequal pupils. In 1962, aged 14, he got punched in the eye by his school friend George Underwood, during an argument over a girl named Carol Goldsmith. George's knuckle caught David's eye and dislodged something. David was admitted to Farnborough Hospital, where it was found that the sphincter muscles in his left eye were damaged and he underwent two eye operations. He has an enlarged pupil that remains permanently open, giving the effect of different coloured eyes. David and George are to this day still life-long friends.



George played in early Bowie groups and eventually became a commercial artist. He was involved in the design of the album sleeves for Hunky Dory (1971), The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders From Mars (1972) albums/posters/flyers, graphics for The 1980 Floor Show and The Man Who Fell To Earth book cover.

The International Language...

Obviously, there will be a Bowie review shortly, but until then I shall address more important things, such as...
How To Swear In Five Celtic Language Variants:

Scottish Gaelic
Irish Gaelic
Welsh
Breton
Manx Gaelic

Also, how to swear in Trainspottingese...
And in Latin!

Read some Yeats Or Walk The @#$%ing Plank...

There's brain candy for thwarted English Majors atJollyroger.com.


All manner of classical literary and philosophical geekdom resides in this "portal of the open source online renaissance." Still, there's always going to be a bad egg or two. For example, in the Greek Mythology forum, somebody posted "I need pictures of Uranus for my project, does anyone know where to find them?" to which there were several tasteful replies of "$%&# you" because they don't actively swear at jollyroger.com, apparently.


But seriously, name your major literary figure and there's bound to be a forum for them on the site. Plus they take poetry and digital photography submissions and soforth. The web is truly doing its part to destupefy the unwashed lethargic masses these days, methinks.


If you're not so literarily minded at the moment, though, check out the guide to swearing in multiple gaelic dialects...

You make the call...

John Lydon aka Johnny Rotten:punk iconoclast, or big f&$*ing baby?

Bowieness

A postmortem shall appear whence I've had a chance to fully digest it all.

But in a nutshell, I saw the Reality tour and it was a quasireligious experience, to say the least.

For now, a Friday Five, even though it's cheesy and you guys almost never answer them...


1. What's the most daring thing you've ever done? Natural childbirth...top that if you can...


2. What one thing would you like to try that your mother/friend/significant other would never approve of? Absinthe. Or possibly a very unnatural hair color.


3. On a scale of 1-10, what's your risk factor? (1=never take risks, 10=it's a lifestyle) Maybe a 5? Want to take risks, but have children to think of :)


4. What's the best thing that's ever happened to you as a result of being bold/risky? Renewed a friendship through frank disclosure.


5. ... and what's the worst? Near fatal embarrassment.

More Bowie commentary...

Margaret Cho on Bowie

The Difference...

...between poetry and fiction is that no one finds you odd if you write poetry as a second person narrative.

This is most cool, indeed...

A trove of vintage liquor posters...

Nocturnal musings of the night past...

Can't remember the rest of this dream, but at some point I returned to my childhood home and was given a "Sandman" painting by my parents...

Myth of the Day:

The Jersey Devil...

On blogging, newsgroup posting and the like...

It is my contention that the web is an artist's commune to the nth degree. The biggest Salon ever frequented. Cafe Society with optional caffeine. Look to history for examples. The English Romantics,the Preraphealites, the Beat Poets,the Lost Generation,the writers and artists of the Irish Rennaissance, all examples of communities of thinking, creative people who corresponded with one another to the betterment of their particular movements. The web is just a gigantic extension of that phenomenon, and though maybe we aren't all tortured geniuses or anything, everybody gets to play, not just the intellectual elite. And, anyway, it keeps us polished and verbally sharp and excercises the wit most of us have been conditioned to sublimate in the wake of crass and commercial society. Plus, it's a wonderful experiment in mass intellectual socialism, putting starving students and suburban cubicle slaves on an equal footing with artists, musicians, and political figures. Encouraging debate as well as common interest.


Or something like that.


But enough with the philospophical rumination. I'm going to see David Bowie tommorrow!

William Blake Tarot

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Man of Science: Being submerged in thought. A time of intense mental focus. Perfectionism. Personal detachment and self-possession. Working on your own, or in isolation. In the creative process: Scrutinize and test every aspect of your work so as to refine and perfect it.



Reason: Using your head to get through a situation. A time to define or obey the rules. Yielding to or being the boss, or authority figure. Patriarchal or traditional approach is favored. Fathering issues.



Fathering Issues? Whatever.



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Why David Bowie Is A God, Part One

Most people's reactions to the phenomenon of David Bowie generally fall under one of the following categories:

1)Think of him primarily as an 80's icon when they think of him at all.
2)Liked Ziggy Stardust, Space Oddity and maybe a couple of other things, but generally think of him as at best an aper of lesser known but more talented artists, and at worst a flat out rock and roll plagiarist.
3)Then there are those of us who think the man's a genius.

Allow me to speak on behalf of the group with which I align myself, if you'll be so kind.
Those who don't know much about the man's music are sorely deprived. Those who criticize it for being derivative are missing the point.
Bowie is not so much a great musician as he is an expert stylist. In a world of painters, he's a collage artist. The man soaks up influences like a sponge, polishes and rearranges them and makes them his own.

Put another way, Bowie is the musical equivalent of your slightly well off, intellectual friend or neighbor who's always just read the most thought provoking novel or seen the latest indie film and wants to invite you over to eat sushi and listen to the new Radiohead album on their new surround sound system. And lyrically, the man is from a planet where everyone speaks in abstract impressionist poetry with philosphical underpinnings and occasional drug use. Sometimes they're a mite obtuse, but his lyrics always make you stop and ponder a bit, should you take the time to properly listen to them. And occasionally they belie a rich and complex dry wit. Sarcasm that rivals Elvis Costello at his best.

And sure, one might argue there's more raw talent to be found in an Iggy Pop or a Lou Reed, but Bowie has more poise and class and genius at self presentation than either of those two have in their little fingers, plus where would they be without the man? Certainly not on major record labels well into their fifties!

And if all of that fails to convince you, then just look at the man. He's fucking hot! Still! After all these years! Look at Rod Stewart and Mick Jagger, for example, and then look at Bowie. Clearly there's some sort of pact with Satan or Portrait of Dorian Gray in the closet or something because Bowie's enduring hotness truly defies the laws of physics. Then again, he's half Irish and you know about those Irish anti-aging genes. I for one have always been singularly partial to them ;)

A Reality Tour

Lizzie and I are going to see Bowie on Thursday! Here's a recent setlist...


I am such a geek, I admit it.

Wheel of the year

One turn of the wheel and you're right back where you started...

From the Blue Fairy Book: The Red Etin ...

Myth of the Day:THE RED ETIN



THERE were ance twa widows that lived on a small bit o' ground, which they rented from a farmer. Ane of them had twa sons, and the other had ane; and by-and- by it was time for the wife that had twa sons to send them away to seeke their fortune. So she told her eldest son ae day to take a can and bring her water from the well, that she might bake a cake for him; and however much or however little water he might bring, the cake would be great or sma' accordingly; and that cake was to be a' that she could gie him when he went on his travels.



The lad gaed away wi' the can to the well, and filled t wi' water, and then came away hame again; but the can being broken the maist part of the water had run out before he got back. So his cake was very sma'; yet sma' as it was, his mother asked if he was willing to take the half of it with her blessing, telling him that, if he chose rather to have the hale, he would only get it wi' her curse. The young man, thinking he might hae to travel a far way, and not knowing when or how he might get other provisions, said he would like to hae the hale cake, com of his mother's malison what like; so she gave him the hale cake, and her malison alang wi't. Then he took his brither aside, and gave him a knife to keep till he should come back, desiring him to look at it every morning, and as lang as it continued to be clear, then he might be sure that the owner of it was well; but if it grew dim and rusty, then for certain some ill had befallen him.



So the young man set out to seek his fortune. And he gaed a' that day, and a' the next day; and on the third day, in the afternoon, he came up to where a shepherd was sitting with a flock o' sheep. And he gaed up to the shepherd and asked him wha the sheep belanged to; and the man answered:





"The Red Etin of Ireland

Ance lived in Bellygan,

And stole King Malcolm's daughter,

The King of fair Scotland.

He beats her, he binds her,

He lays her on a band;

And every day he dings her

With a bright silver wand

Like Julian the Roman

He's one that fears no man.

It's said there's ane predestinate

To be his mortal foe;

But that man is yet unborn

And lang may it be so."



The young man then went on his journey; and he had not gone far when he espied an old man with white locks herding a flock of swine; and he gaed up to him



and asked whose swine these were, when the man answered: "The Red Etin of Ireland" --

Note: (Repeat the verses above.) Then the young man gaed on a bit farther, and came to another very old man herding goats; and when he asked whose goats they were, the answer was: "The Red Etin of Ireland" --

Note: (Repeat the verses again.) This old man also told him to beware of the next beasts that he should meet, for they were of a very different kind from any he had yet seen.



So the young man went on, and by-and-by he saw a multitude of very dreadfu' beasts, ilk ane o' them wi' twa heads, and on every head four horns. And he was sore frightened, and ran away from them as fast as he could; and glad was he when he came to a castle that stood on a hillock, wi' the door standing wide to the wa'. And he gaed into the castle for shelter, and there he saw an auld wife sitting beside the kitchen fire. He asked the wife if he might stay there for the night, as he was tired wi' a lang journey; and the wife said he might, but it was not a good place for him to be in, as it belanged to the Red Etin, who was a very terrible beast, wi' three heads, that spared no living man he could get hold of. The young man would have gone away, but he was afraid of the beasts on the outside of the castle; so he beseeched the old woman to conceal him as well as she could, and not to tell the Etin that he was there. He thought, if he could put over the night, he might get away in the morning without meeting wi' the beasts, and so escape. But he had not been long in his hidy-hole before the awful Etin came in; and nae sooner was he in than he was heard crying:





"Snouk but and snouk ben,

I find the smell of an earthly man;

Be he living, or be he dead,

His heart this night shall kitchen my bread.





"Kitchen," that is, "season."



The monster soon found the poor young man, and pulled him from his hole. And when he had got him out he told him that if he could answer him three questions his life should be spared. The first was: Whether Ireland or Scotland was first inhabited? The second was: Whether man was made for woman, or woman for man? The third was: Whether men or brutes were made first? The lad not being able to answer one of these questions, the Red Etin took a mace and knocked him on the head, and turned him into a pillar of stone.



On the morning after this happened the younger brither took out the knife to look at it, and he was grieved to find it a' brown wi' rust. He told his mother that the time was now come for him to go away upon his travels also; so she requested him to take the can to the well for water, that she might bake a cake for him. The can being broken, he brought hame as little water as the other had done, and the cake was as little. She asked whether he would have the hale cake wi' her malison, or the half wi' her blessing; and, like his brither, he thought it best to have the hale cake, come o' the malison what might. So he gaed away; and everything happened to him that had happened to his brother!



The other widow and her son heard of a' that had happened frae a fairy, and the young man determined that he would also go upon his travels, and see if he could do anything to relieve his twa friends. So his mother gave him a can to go to the well and bring home water, that she might bake him a cake for his journey. And he gaed, and as he was bringing hame the water, a raven owre abune his head cried to him to look, and he would see that the water was running out. And he was a young man of sense, and seeing the water running out, he took some clay and patched up the holes, so that he brought home enough water to bake a large cake. When his mother put it to him to take the half-cake wi' her blessing, he took it in preference to having the hale wi' her malison; and yet the half was bigger than what the other lads had got a'thegither.



So he gaed away on his journey; and after he had traveled a far way he met wi' an auld woman, that asked him if he would give her a bit of his bannock.

And he said he would gladly do that, and so he gave her a piece of the bannock; and for that she gied him a magical wand, that she said might yet be of service to him if he took care to use it rightly. Then the auld woman, who was a fairy, told him a great deal that whould happen to him, and what he ought to do in a' circumstances; and after that she vanished in an instant out o' his sight. He gaed on a great way farther, and then he came up to the old man herding the sheep; and when he asked whose sheep these were, the answer was:



"The Red Etin of Ireland

Ance lived in Bellygan,

And stole King Malcolm's daughter,

The King of fair Scotland.

He beats her, he binds her,

He lays her on a band;

And every day he dings her

With a bright silver wand.

Like Julian the Roman,

He's one that fears no man,

But now I fear his end is near,

And destiny at hand;

And you're to be, I plainly see,

The heir of all his land."



Note: (Repeat the same inquiries to the man attending the swine and the
man attending the goats, with the same answer in each case.)



When he came to the place where the monstrous beasts were standing, he did not stop nor run away, but went boldly through among them. One came up roaring with open mouth to devour him, when he struck it with his wand, and laid it in an instant dead at his feet. He soon came to the Etin's castle, where he knocked, and was admitted. The auld woman that sat by the fire warned him of the terrible Etin, and what had been the fate of the twa brithers; but he was not to be daunted. The monster soon came in, saying:



"Snouk but and snouk ben,

I find the smell of an earthly man;

Be he living, or be he dead,

His heart shall be kitchen to my bread."



He quickly espied the young man, and bade him come forth on the floor. And then he put the three questions to him, but the young man had been told everything by the good fairy, so he was able to answer all the questions. When the Etin found this he knew that his power was gone. The young man then took up the axe and hewed off the monster's three heads. He next asked the old woman to show him where the King's daughters lay; and the old woman took him upstairs and opened a great many doors, and out of every door came a beautiful lady who had been imprisoned there by the Etin; and ane o' the ladies was the King's daughter. She also took him down into a low room, and there stood two stone pillars that he had only to touch wi' his wand, when his two friends and neighbors started into life. And the hale o' the prisoners were overjoyed at their deliverance, which they all acknowledged to be owing to the prudent young man. Next day they a' set out for the King's Court, and a gallant company they made. And the King married his daughter to the young man that had delivered her, and gave a noble's daughter to ilk ane o' the other young men; and so they a' lived happily a' the rest o' their days.

Rhapsody

The online music library/filesharing service thingy. Thought it might suck, but it doesn't, actually.

Word Of the Day: Voluptuary

(noun)

[vah-LUP-choo-er'-ee]


1. a person whose life is devoted to the enjoyment of luxury and sensual pleasures; a sensualist: "Lynn resolved to cut down on his hours and recapture a bit of the lifestyle he had known as a young voluptuary."


adjective form: voluptuary


Origin:

Approximately 1610; perhaps borrowed from French, 'voluptuaire'; from Medieval Latin, 'voluptuarius'; from Latin, 'voluptarius': of or pertaining to pleasure, from 'voluptas': pleasure, from 'volup': pleasurably, from 'volupe,' neuter of 'volupis': pleasant, related to 'velle': to wish, which is related to the root 'wel-': (1) to wish, to will.


Courtesy of Vocab Vitmains.

Pirates Of the Carribean...

...finally, I shall get to see it! Shall report my findings shortly.

The Two Mrs. Carrolls

Starring Humphrey Bogart and Barbara Stanwyck.
I'd heard such great things about this movie, and know that bits of Dead Again were based on it. How was I to know it would suck so incomparably? It sucked bugs! It sucked roaches! Poor Humphrey, perhaps he died of the embarrassment...

Sent to me by the incomparable Lizzie Stardust...

----- Original Message -----
Sent: Monday, January 26, 2004 5:24 PM
Subject: Fwd: DO YOU THINK YOU KNOW EVERYTHING?

A dime has 118 ridges around the edge.
A cat has 32 muscles in each ear.
A crocodile cannot stick out its tongue.
A dragonfly has a life span of 24 hours.
A goldfish has a memory span of three seconds.
A "jiffy" is an actual unit of time for 1/100th of a second.
A shark is the only fish that can blink with both eyes.
A snail can sleep for three years.
Al Capone's business card said he was a used furniture dealer.
All 50 states are listed across the top of the Lincoln Memorial on the
back of the $5 bill.
Almonds are a member of the peach family.
An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain.
Babies are born without kneecaps. They don't appear until the child
reaches 2 to 6 years of age.
Butterflies taste with their feet.
Cats have over one hundred vocal sounds. Dogs only have about 10.
"Dreamt" is the only English word that ends in the letters "mt".
February 1865 is the only month in recorded history not to have a full moon.
In the last 4,000 years, no new animals have been domesticated.
If the population of China walked past you, in single file, the line would
never end because of the rate of reproduction.
If you are an average American, in your whole life, you will spend an average
of 6 months waiting at red lights.
It's impossible to sneeze with your eyes open.
Leonardo Da Vinci invented the scissors.
Maine is the only state whose name is just one syllable.
No word in the English language rhymes with month, orange, silver, or purple.
On a Canadian two dollar bill, the flag flying over the Parliament
building is an American flag.
Our eyes are always the same size from birth, but our nose and ears
never stop growing.
Peanuts are one of the ingredients of dynamite.
Rubber bands last longer when refrigerated.
"Stewardesses" is the longest word typed with only the left hand and "lollipop"
with your right.
The average person's left hand does 56% of the typing.
The cruise liner, QE2, moves only six inches for each gallon of diesel
that it burns.
The microwave was invented after a researcher walked by a radar tube and a
chocolate bar melted in his pocket.
The sentence: "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog" uses every
letter of the alphabet.
The winter of 1932 was so cold that Niagara Falls froze completely
solid.
The words 'racecar,' 'kayak' and 'level' are the same whether they are
read
left to right or right to left (palindromes).
There are 293 ways to make change for a dollar.
There are more chickens than people in the world.
There are only four words in the English language which end in "dous":
tremendous, horrendous, stupendous, and hazardous
There are two words in the English language that have all five vowels
in order: "abstemious" and "facetious."
There's no Betty Rubble in the Flintstones Chewables Vitamins.
Tigers have striped skin, not just striped fur.
TYPEWRITER is the longest word that can be made using the letters only on one
row of the keyboard.
Winston Churchill was born in a ladies' room during a dance.
Women blink nearly twice as much as men.
...Now you know everything

Ooh! A Bowie cover band in Britain!

Diamondogz: Online. Unfortunately, they're not what one might call exceptionally talented, but they certainly get bonus points for rabid fandom, anyway.

I did in fact know three of these facts...

Forwarded to me by Lizzie. Do you suppose she's trying to say something? Who cares, it is most fun :)


"DO YOU THINK YOU KNOW EVERYTHING?"

Oblique Strategies of the day

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"Make a blank valuable by putting it in an exquisite frame."



"Infinitesimal gradations."



mythology

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In Quarantine

Holed up at home with sick little girls, television and warm blankets. One has flu, the other croup and everybody needs their mommy. Wish they felt better, but it's nice to be needed.

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Yew



Change and regeneration



You are in a time of deep transformation. Many changes are happening, and your life will be quite different afterward. These changes cannot be either rushed or stopped- so take the time you need for them, and permit yourself to feel all the related emotions, negative and positive. Difficult though things may be now, new opportunities and possibilities await.



Yew is the last of the original twenty Ogham trees. Just as birch stands for new beginnings, yew symbolizes death and regeneration; the old passing away to make room for the new. As the yew ages, some branches die but the whole survives- some for 2000 years! Its wood is tough, often used for bows. The challenge of the yew is to deal with the sorrow that a deep transformation can cause; even when the new is welcome, the old can be sorely missed.



Gorse



Generosity and persistence



Your perseverance has brought you through difficulties to a time of abundance. As you reap the benefits of your past work, remember to be generous in your turn, and share the blessings that come to you. You will also need to persist in your efforts; this is not an end to labor, but a beginning of the harvest.



Gorse or furze is the seventeenth Ogham tree. It thrives outside the forest, even in inhospitable lands. Although its mature growth is tough and spiky, its new shoots are a favorite food of sheep, and it blossoms with sweet yellow flowers throughout the year, to the benefit of the bees. For these reasons, gorse symbolizes both generosity and persistence.





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The dream of the thief...

Dreamt I left my purse on a table at the street fair and went back to get it. When I returned, I found a man who looked like Jerry Garcia dressed as a Hell's Angel with an eyepatch stealing money from me. We started a conversation during which three times he tried to steal my cash and three times I stopped him. each time I caught him he would reply "sorry, I'm just doing my job." Somehow I ended up walking off with a hundred dollar bill from his wallet. He reminded me a bit of Odin/Mr Wednesday in Neil Gaiman's American Gods.

Three Girls And A Microphone...

Attended the kick ass Grand Opening party for Silver Sea on Friday. Culminated in the Lizzieful one, the Lovely Miss Thea and myslef alone in the back room of the store with a microphone, a sound system and a number of Tori Amos tracks on CD, indulging our inner rock stars. The best parts sometimes happen after the party's over:)

A word on Fantasy Fonts...

The Case Against Comic Sans.

Gruff Marine Mammals



Dreamt of dolphins. Common dolphins, not bottle nosed. They could talk and were explaining why it is that they beach themselves sometimes and what we could do if we wanted to help, but I don't remember what the reason was. Said something about how they would love to submerge themselves for days at a time if only they could get enough air. How they wished they could just breathe underwater and cut out the middle part. Very jaded dolphins. Described themselves as "dolphins, porpoises, whatever the hell you guys are calling us these days..." Seemed most unimpressed with the collective intelligence of humankind. Sort of as though they were the French and we were the Ugly Americans.

(reprinted from exponential detritus for feeble minds.)

William Blake tarot reading of the day

Mystery, when reversed: An enigma that resists inner wisdom. Unexplained or mysterious energies at work. Issues of sexuality. Feeling yourself at the mercy of the divine trickster. Dark omens and portents.



Forgiveness: A trial-and-error blend of creative solutions to a problem or complex issue. Keeping things in proportion and proper balance by making needed adjustments. Managing your time and resources carefully. Listening for inner guidance and tuning in to spiritual advice. ****************************************************************************************************************************************

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Salome

Sometimes she's Salome

Or just another jezebel

in the endless parade

and she falls like the stock market

and you rise like unemployment

and sometimes she falls but no one catches

her

she falls because she's unsteady

never learned to walk before learning to fly

strange little bird that she is

when you let her out

of her gilded cage

she just goes looking for other nests

never learned to spread her wings

never learned a lot of things

still somehow she knows too much to be useful

Another resource for all you lazy liberals

Working Assets - another great site for armchair activism. You can use their prewritten eamil letters to lodge your political concerns, or just repond to the issues as you are alerted to them. And if you have a landline phone (I don't anymore,) you can choose them as your long distance company and stick it to the corporate profiteers. Plus there's free Ben and Jerry's pints to be had. Been there, done that, licked the lid clean.


For your issues oriented enlightenment, may I offer Mother Jones, In These Times which has the occasional Kurt Vonnegut column as a bonus, and Utne Reader, which remains "the best of the alternative press." You could always buy these magazines, but don't kid me, you're all too busy for that. Be an empowered electorate! Or at least be a real "punk." Or whatever. Just trying to do my part for "the cause," whatever that is.


Lastly, an issue brought up by a friend of mine: Alaska Logging. Here's a letter you can cut and paste and legislative contact info.


There, don't you feel better now?


Reward yourself with some Mcsweeney's links and a trip to The Onion. Or if you're still waxing political, check this out...

Tracklist for the newest mix CD...

...which I can only listen to at home, because my car cd player is missing its faceplate :(
1)"Delirious" - Luka Bloom
2)"Jagged" - The Old 97s
3)"Virginia Plain" - Roxy Music
4)"Remove This Doubt" - Elvis Costello
5)"Cecil Brown" - Hank Williams III
6)"Hold Her Down" - Toad The Wet Sprocket
7)Neil Gaiman on Tori Amos
8)"Tear In Your Hand" - Tori Amos
9)"River Euphrates" - The Pixies
10)"Something To Say" - Toad The Wet Sprocket
11)"Nothing To Fear (but fear itself)" - Oingo Boingo
12)"Zak and Sara" - Ben Folds
13)"(I'll love you)Till The End Of The World" - Nick Cave
14)"Big Love of a Tiny Fool" Peter Murphy
15)"Crucify" - Tori Amos
16)"Candy Says" - Velvet Underground
17)"I Forgot More Than You'll Ever Know About Her" - Elvis Costello w/ Tom Waits
18)"Clear Spot" - Pernice Brothers
19)"Lover's Lullaby" - Townes Van Zandt

Gruff Marine Mammals

Dreamt of dolphins. Common dolphins, not bottle nosed. They could talk and were explaining why it is that they beach themselves sometimes and what we could do if we wanted to help, but I don't remember what the reason was. Said something about how they would love to submerge themselves for days at a time if only they could get enough air. How they wished they could just breathe underwater and cut out the middle part. Very jaded dolphins. Described themselves as "dolphins, porpoises, whatever the hell you guys are calling us these days..." Seemed most unimpressed with the collective intelligence of humankind. Sort of as though they were the French and we were the Ugly Americans.

By the way...

You guys do know how to use the comments, right? You just click on the word "comments" and then you can leave one if you want. If I don't get one soon I'm going to erase the comment feature out of desperation! It is indeed possible to post anonymously if you're just shy or something.


Also, fyi: "Saille" is the alias on my other blogger account. Another psuedonym of Corbid. Any other poster is probably someone other than I.

Werewolves

Myth of the Day: Werewolves



In popular folklore, a man who is transformed, or who transforms himself, into a wolf in nature and appearance under the influence of a full moon. The werewolf is only active at night and during that period, he devours infants and corpses. According to legend, werewolves can be killed by silver objects such as silver arrows and silver bullets. When a werewolf dies he is returned to his human form.



Origin

The word is a contraction of the old-Saxon word wer (which means "man") and wolf -- werwolf, manwolf. A Lycanthrope, a term often used to describe werewolves, however, is someone who suffers from a mental disease and only thinks he has changed into a wolf.



The concept of werewolves, or lycanthropes, is possibly based on the myth of Lycaon. He was the king of Arcadia, and in the time of the ancient Greeks notorious for his cruelty. He tried to buy the favor of Zeus by offering him the flesh of a young child. Zeus punished him for this crime and turned him into a wolf. The legends of werewolves have been told since the ancient Greeks and are known all over the world. In areas where the wolf is not so common, the belief in werewolves is replaced by folklore where men can change themselves in tigers, lions, bears and other fierce animals.



History

In the dark Middle Ages, the Church stigmatized the wolf as the personification of evil and a servant of Satan himself. The Church courts managed to put so much pressure on schizophrenics, epileptics and the mentally disabled, that they testified to be werewolves and admitted to receive their orders directly from Satan. After 1270 it was even considered heretical not to believe in the existence of werewolves.



The charge of being a werewolf disappeared from European courts around the 17th century, but only for the lack of evidence. The belief in werewolves, however, did not completely disappear. In Europe after 1600, it was generally believed that if there were no werewolves, then at least the wolf was a creature of evil. This resulted in an unjustified and negative image of the wolf; an image that most people still have today.



"Werewolf." Encyclopedia Mythica from Encyclopedia Mythica Online.

[Accessed January 19, 2004].

Runes of the Day, MLK Day

Wunjo is the rune of Joy. Since joy is least frequently a solitary emotion, this rune often represents mutual or communal bliss. Wunjo is also seen as a rune of the gods and a rune of perfection, carrying with it the elation that blazes from the creation of a perfect work - perhaps this is the true joy of the gods, that they can create perfection. That aside, this rune does not focus on the struggle for perfection or on our inevitable imperfections, but rather on a job well done and the satisfaction that comes from it.



Dagez means daylight, and represents divine light. This rune generally refers to dawn (the initial sparking of energy) or to midday (the climax of energy). Both dawn and midday are symbolic of change, but unlike the changes in the perpetual circle of the year which are slow and subtle, the changes over a day are much faster and more dramatic. The breaking of a new day is symbolic of the rapid illumination of dismal circumstances, and is suggestive of Satori. Be careful - although this rune generally suggests a positive change, the symbology of a peaking point suggests that there must be a change downward as well. Fortunately for some, this rune is cyclic and irreversible, and so permanence is not promised - the only thing you can be sure of is an exciting ride.





mythology

detritus

opinion

Happy Martin Luther King Day

Sixteen years ago today, Lizzie and I had quite the adventure. Story forthcoming at a later time. Impressionist summary: incense, runes, espresso, rain, lindor truffles, i ching, army jackets, youthful indignance, unmitigated gall, unequaled laughter. Maybe it needs no elaboration after all. But, god, do I feel old today.

Of Wolves and Men

There's an excellent entry in Neil Gaiman's blog about the more sinister implications of the Red Riding Hood story. I love this summation:


"The wolf in the story represents an awful lot of stuff -- the danger and truth of stories, for a start, and the way they change; he symbolises -- not predation, for some reason -- but transformation: the meeting in the wild wood that changes everything forever. Angela Carter's statement that "some men are hairy on the inside" comes to mind: as an image, in my head, it's the wolf's shadow that has ears and a tail, while the man in wolf form stands in his forest (and cities are forests too) and waits for the girl in the red cloak , picking flowers, to come along, or, hungrily, watches her leave..."


A beautifully gothic statement on the nature of faery, the deep abiding mythic truth lying beneath mundane existence.


Brings up an imagine of the Wolf as a Green Man or Horned God or Pan. Imagine, the Big Bad Wolf and The Fisher King one and the same.

Word of the Day: Salubrious

(adjective)

[sah-LOO-bree-ahs]


(Pretty sure I've heard it before, but couldn't have defined it were I pressed to.)


1. favorable to or promoting health or well-being; 'salubrious air': "The campus was a salubrious wonderland for anyone that loved crew or trail running, but for the rest of us it was quiet and boring."


adverb form: salubriously

noun forms: salubriousness, salubrity

Check it out

I added a comments feature. Probably a dumb idea for a blog of such limited readership. Points out how few people are in my audience, or whatever. Like adding a hit counter,it can point out one's loserdom in terms of web presence I suppose. Still, commenting is the new coolness and I am all about being part of the new coolness. Or something. Maybe I'll take it down after a few days of no response.

Whatever.