I want to be friends with this woman from New Jersey. Everyday, I get more and more concerned about the direction our country is going, and what damage could be done between now and Nov. 2004. I cannot allow myself to think that Bush will not be removed from office. I shudder to think. It really sends a chill through me. Seriously. He cannot be allowed another term.
If he wins, I envision a band of rebels… people who value free speech, separation of church and state, a woman’s right to choose what happens in her body… people who believe love is love, and any two humans of any mix of race, religion and gender should be allowed to get married. People who think the FCC is getting a little big for their britches, and want to take back the right to decide for themselves what they want to read, listen to, or watch. Pirate radio stations will sprout up. You’ll see an increase of ‘zines and websites about personal and political freedom. And we’ll all wear bandanas around our heads, and army fatigues. It’s going to be like Red Dawn!! YEAH!! And we’ll have our own secret codes and signals. And we’ll build an underground railroad with spoons, in order to smuggle out atheists and radio shock jocks to freedom. We’ll get some of that free land in Kansas, build a compound, and hide them there.
And as fun as all that sounds, I think it’s just best that we boot his scary ass out of office. I’m going to start getting nightmares soon, I just know it. It doesn’t matter, as it turns out, Neil Gaiman is the next president of the United States. and I couldn’t be more thrilled. Seriously. I couldn’t.

Uh oh… there’s another Jodi blog out there. Only, in this case, it’s a Jodie blog. And you know, I came across her completely by accident. Looking for something for Movable Type. I was scared, you know what happened when I found that other Jody, the one I didn’t like. Such a disappointment. But she seems fine, does the name proud. Even with that extra letter on the end.

Holy global warming! It’s 76 degrees outside. That is 2 degrees higher than my preferred temperature… 74. That’s my preferred summer time weather. My preferred spring time temp is 70, with a breeze. Like it was this morning. I’m not ready for summer weather, I’m not getting my legs waxed until Saturday! Luckily, tomorrow will be 56 and rainy. Whew.
I was in javascript training this afternoon. The training was presented at a technical level I am comfortable with for about the first half hour. After that, I was lost. It was really designed for engineers and such. The training was 4 hours long, and it was eating away at my soul. Taking tiny bites out of my will to live, with razor sharp technical teeth. I made it until the end of the 3rd hour. And then I vamoosed.
My current Commuter’s Literary Selection [aka: audio book] is “American Gods” by Neil Gaiman. It is a book that I read a couple of months ago. As soon as I finished it, I knew I’d want to listen to it. To get all the lovely bits and pieces I missed by being a selfish and sloppy reader. When I first started the book, with cd 1, I got the fright of my life, to hear the voice of the Narrator from Mirror Mirror. Noooooooo! Please… nooooooo! But it turns out, he was just introducing it. The real narrator is delightful, and does wonderful accents. And is quite good at giving characters different voices, without being clowny about it. Unless clowny is called for, of course. It’s nineteen discs. NINETEEN! My longest audio book to date. I’m listening with the big boys now, kids.
There is a part of “American Gods” that talks about roadside attractions being the most sacred places in the country. How people are suddenly compelled, for no apparent reason, to construct the largest ball of twine, or sanctuary for black swans… something odd. And they don’t know why. And, in turn, we are compelled to stop and look. It made me think… I think the Ivanhoe Inn, while not a roadside attraction, was about as “sacred” as my Moür Moür could make it. And I dare say no one could ever really explain to me why she constructed the Catacombs. So I thought that I would take some time, over the next few weeks or so, to try to illustrate to you, the “special uniqueness” that was the Ivanhoe Inn. And Moür Moür, of course. Maybe even with pictures!

The power just went here at work. Of course, I have squishy. So I could still work, as long as I have battery power. That’s hardly fair, tho. It’s one of those days in which it’s impossible to be at work anyway. It’s a breezy spring day, supposed to get up to the 70’s. In fact, it is currently 71 degrees. The general consensus is that someone has cut the power on purpose. And we are all trying to figure out how long the power has to be out, until we get to go home. I say 15 minutes. I imagine we’d get to go home when everyone started losing battery power. Those with laptops. But that’s hours away!! I really think that 15 minutes is a more realistic time frame.
Oh, how sad. It came back on. It was out for about 30 minutes. Those were the best 30 minutes of the day, I’ll tell you what.

Ok, this link for adults only, but I can’t help but wonder why we have not seen this before. Especially since everyone knows the internet is for porn.
Plus, I can’t help but notice that the keyboard in the picture is a mac. I’m just saying…. mac people are SEXY!!

When I was in school, I worked in a movie theatre. This particular chain had a little game that they would play at election time. Presidential election time, that is. The Straw Poll. When you bought a drink at the concession stand, you got to chose either the Democratic Candidate straw, or Republican. Not at all interestingly, the results of the Straw Poll always predicted the results of the actual election. Back then, at least. Whatever. Them important part, in my mind, was that this particular movie theatre chain served Dr. Pepper*. But they are gone now. Or bought out.
Anyway, this poll is much much better. Even if it does pitch one of my favorite authors against one of my favorite drunken pirates. Haven’t we already had a drunken pirate for a president, tho?
*right before we’d shut down the concession stand to clean it, the managers would lock up all the cups. as they were inventoried. technically, we were not allowed to drink pop for free, even out of our own cup. however, we’d all hide cups, the little cups we’d give people for free when they wanted water. and we’d drink as much soda pop as we could, after the mangers went upstairs, between shows and after the stand closed. one night, our cups had been thrown away, and i remember sticking we stuck heads under the soda pop fountain, hitting to the button, just to get free drinks. ahhhh…. the good old days.

Sorry, Romy… been running around all day, I don’t feel like I’ve been at my desk all day. And I went to a comic book store at lunch, lost track of time. It was having big sale. I was looking for the first Lucifer book. But they only had #2. But I did buy Black Orchid. Which is a beautiful looking book. I like that Dave Mckean. Plus, he’s a Mac user.
Anyhoo, writing group went fine. And sharing was easier than I thought it would be. Rebecca is a stickler about spelling and grammar, which I am not. So she read our stories with blue pen in hand. But she often just underlined things and wrote “hee!” next to them. Which is nice. All the feedback about the scene, and my entire book, was constructive and very helpful. Often pointing out things I did not consider. We are going to continue with the plan of bringing a bit for everyone to read. It does not have to be from our books. Or from anything specific. Just something. I imagine I will always share something of Lucy’s story. Since that is what I want to work on. Maybe I’ll start from the beginning, tho, this scene is in the middle of the book, with no background, they had to just take some things on faith. But then, maybe not. Whatever the muse wants, the muse gets. I’ll write what it asks for.

Despite the fact that I chose to spill my guts in a blog/journal, I’m nervous about sharing my writing tonight. Because that’s fiction. I seem to have no trouble with the way I recount my own adventures, but when I tell the tales of people who exist only in my head, that’s different. But I have about 2 and a half pages to bring tonight. A little scene in a bakery, with Lucy and a new character who just showed up out of the blue, named Oliver. I should name him Tom. Oliver came to me because Tom of das überbrain posted a link to the blog of Margaret Cho, whom I love. On her website, I saw this t-shirt, which i really really like. I looked at the red one and thought, “Oliver would wear that.” and then I thought, “Who is Oliver?” And that was it. A character was born because of a t-shirt, because of Margaret Cho, because of über Tom. And that is why I should have named him Tom, but did not. Sorry, Tom Smellybutt.
And there you have the secret to where characters come from, or at least my characters. From wherever they want. There is a character in my story, minor one, named Bertie. She came from the scratch lotto lady, Mary. Mary is an older lady who walks to my mini mart twice a day, to stand at the counter and drink coffee and scratch a few tickets. Rain or shine. She also likes to talk. And talk and talk and talk. However, Bertie is a bit wiser than Mary, I think. Edgar is a composite of all the guys who have ever worked as clerks at that mini mart. His name is Edgar because the first three consecutive clerks who worked there, since I moved to the neighborhood, were named Edgar. Or maybe there was only one name tag, a traditional name tag. And it was passed down from clerk to clerk.
Well, I just spent a few minutes telling Dr. Stevil to “shut up” and “fuck off” and “I don’t like you” and “go away.” And that was fun. And now I have to print out my wee little scene to share with writing group and be on my way. It occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, if I started to lie about my own life, here in the journal, I would be less hesitant about sharing my fictional stories with other people. Not to mention how much fun it is to make up stories and tell lies about yourself. hmmmm…..

Tomorrow I have writer’s group. We’ve decided that we need to bring some writing to discuss. Previously, we’ve treated it more like a NaNoWriMo write in, and what happens is we just chat. Nothing wrong with that, but it’s supposed to be a writing group. So we are going to bring little things to share and discuss. Point being, I need to finish my little scene today. Because I am going to need some time away, so I can look at it fresh tomorrow morning and notice all my mistakes and such. Problem is, I still haven’t figured out all the crayon colors. I’ll probably just have to drop that from the scene, as it’s probably just an excuse I am using to keep from saying it’s done. Or done enough for writing group. I’m not used to sharing any fictional writing with other people. I’m sort of self conscious I guess.
Yesterday, I was just sitting around, thinking about Satanism. It’s Liloo Multisuck’s fault, as she posted a link yesterday, on the ‘brain, about a Satanist’s view on “The Passion.” It had been a long time since I thought about those darn Satanists.
Several years ago, I was sitting around with friends, having theological discussions, as I am wont to do, and I remember saying to Mr. Moon “You know, I am not entirely sure what Satanists are really about.” So he loaned me his copy of the Satanic Bible, by Anton Szandor La Vey. Mr. Moon is always good for stuff like that. And so I read it. Most of it. Eventually, I sort of got tired. And, what I found was had far more in common with Wicca or Paganism than Christianity, in my mind. You don’t even have to believe in Satan, to be a Satanists. In fact, they consider him to be an archetype, more than anything else. They don’t sacrifice animals or people, if they are truly following the Satanic ways, because they find power if life, not in death. There is no power in a dead animal, nor the blood of a dead goat. I suppose their could be power in the blood of a live goat or living human being, tho. One thing they are very PRO on is sex. And it seems to factor greatly in their rituals. I remember reading about how to use a naked woman as the alter in your rituals.
Now, the Wiccans and Pagans would probably not like me drawing comparisons between them and the Satanists. I do so only because they all seem to be very earth driven. And more accepting of man and his true nature. The difference being, Wicca teaches you that anything you put out there will come back to you threefold. So, you mess with people, something is going to mess with you even more. Checks and balances. Satanism believes that if someone messes with you, go ahead and fuck them over. The Satanists are very PRO revenge. They are accepting of all of man’s inner dark bits.
Satanism’s connection with Christianity seems tenuous at best. Christianity’s Satan is always out to lead you astray. Satanism’s Satan isn’t a deity they worship. And they don’t believe in a vengeful God who would kill his only son to wipe away the sins of the people he created. I don’t think there is such a thing as sin in Satanism. Why, I almost think you could easily do a search and find in the Satanic bible and replace all the accounts of “satan” with something or someone more along the lines of Pan. Mind your own business and leave others in peace, is more their way. But if they mess with you, you mess with them. And Vice Versa. They are not terribly interested in recruiting, either. it’s not an evangelistic faith. It’s a shame that the media portrays such a warped and erroneous view of Satanism, but they kinda ask for it… by calling it SATANISM. Don’t name your spirituality after the most evil figure in Christianity, people. The name is going to come with a great deal of baggage.
All in all, the Satanic Bible eventually made me laugh. As anything that takes itself too seriously would. I wish I knew a Satanist, so I could ask more questions about it. However, I am not interested in visiting a ritual or participating in a group or whatever. When I was reading the S.Bible, originally, I was visited by a born again Christian friend named Briar, who was shocked and upset to see it on my desk. Seriously upset. He was sure that the evil power of that book, would sway me, would take hold of me and … I guess… pull me to the dark side. Which just goes to show how little he thought of my own strength of will, how misguided he was in his knowledge of Satanism, and how misguided he was in his opinion of me being on the “light side” to begin with. I would think that if you considered something to be sooo evil and powerful, you’d want to learn more about it. If i had been him, I would have immediately gone to the library to check it out, to find out exactly what he was dealing with, how to save my soul. But Christians are not usually like that, at least not the fundamental ones. It’s easier to just take the Good Things and Evil Things spreadsheet you are handed every Sunday, and behave accordingly.
One humorous point the Satanist in the article above made, in a later interview by the same website in which he answered questions form “viewers” about his faith:
Q: Do you consider the bible to be 100% accurate?
A: Yes. In the sense that it is 100% wholly a work of fiction.
Amen, my brother!