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Odd vision I had – When Dolphins Attack! November 11, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in humor, Mystical.
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I laid down to rest, to deal with the cough I have had for a few weeks now, and I had the most interesting and unlikely vision:

10,000 dolphins on an amphibious attack in the Mediterranean.  It reminded me of the trailer for Troy with Brad Pitt & Eric Bana.  Dolphins, though, instead of those sleek Greek vessels that were on the rampage. 

What do peaceful marine animals go on the rampage against?  And to what goal were they headed?  Were they angrily determined to beach themselves?  That would indeed be a difficult declaration of war.  What, pray tell, is the Prince of Cups going to war against?

Off to another Workshop October 1, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Civilization Anonymous, humor, Personal Journey.
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This time it’s the Man/Kind Project’s New Warrior Training.  Again at Easton Mountain.  I’m eager to get started on grooming the fierceness of this God.

“Power… Power will make me sleep.”  A line from My Very Worst Play Ever Or You Have to Break a Few Chekhovs to Make a Hamlette.  (By yours truly.  A truly BAAAAAAAAAAD script.  But with male nudity!)

Thoughts on Mar(ri)age Equality NY Loss and New Christmas Poem December 2, 2009

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in humor, Personal Journey.
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Well, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it ag’in:  When are the Charlie Browns going to stop running at Lucy’s football?  I’m not sure how to arrive at the correct ratio of attention to the various kakistocracies (fed, state, county, municipal) vis-a-vis what we CAN change, which is really on the nabe level anyway.  And at least there, one can call the khnts out in fora that really mean something. 

When are we going to invest our energy in the things that really count, rather than diddling away our energies in tawdry beauty cuntests [sic(k)]/celebrity asshat-votes?

I didn’t really expect much, if anything, out of the dysfunctional legislature in this strange state.  It’s all in legal limbo and it’s by design, and on some level I do feel an odd gratitude for that.  Not sure why though, other than to say I always knew the kakistocracy at all levels was a “thuggerment.”  vEmpire strikes again.  Why should New Yokel State be any diff?

So.  A new Christmas Poem

Ho Ho Hozzelly Hozel Ho!  Three Years till the Dawn!

Here we are again, heading into the Solstice
whipsaw, Walmortician romance tchotchke–
“put it under the tree and stuff it” time,
when thugs demand their Jehovahsatanic
“Merry Christmas, O Grand Cunt” fiesta.

Oh, it seems the Santa Armies of Doom
ringing their antigay bells to guilt
unsuspecting lambs of their green
to line their sex-negation crusades
maraud the landscape searching for death.

Their time comes due.  The vEmpire
knows this jig is up.  The thuggerment
cronies de Godless Sacks arm up
their fangsomecunt selves, for pitch
forkers and torchadores mulifarious

line up their telescopic lenses
targeting these gatos gordisimos.
I’ve noted before the bloodfest
that is consum’orrific Decembrism
the Tannenbaum Taliban et al.

Yea, it’s Adeste Insanis, to be sure.
Hark hear the yells, beat silver hells
Lo how our foes e’er fuming
call forth visions genocide
Palins in comparison…

And sorry, folks, methinks this cloud
of mushroom fantasies ain’t close
to bursting yet.  The run up to light
galactic, transforming us all whether
we like it or not, pushes the weird up and out.

Still, acceptance starts the answer
to any question I might pose.  As thoughts
and feelings of unworthiness, despair,
energetic Nimue-rage emerge,
Let’s choose to open hearts regardless.

I look forward to snowfall and blankets
to be shoveled with loving labor.
I look forward to neighborhood
festivals that celebrate the streets
and the families I live near.

The veils have thinned since Samhain
and for the next thousand days
or so, they will only get thinner still.
Thuggerments quale before times
such as these, and to our benefit.

Let us bestow the gifts of sexual
potency upon ourselves and neighbors.
Compliment the bitter bitty ’bout
the Brown Betty brung from the oven.
Send a mash note to a doofus Mayor.

Sprinkle orgasmic blessings like flakes
upon the population, and spin dervish
delight upon the props of your choosing.
Let the love-light kundalini pull you
out of your clothes and into warmest embrace.

May we all hear some ho ho hoes with double
meanings, and continue to stir trouble
for the many pricklies dreaming rubble
for the billions outside their “happy” bubble
and laugh as they stumble, bumble, tumble, grumble.

“Merry Christmas, Bill O’Reilly” indeed.
And Happy Yuletide, Blessed Ramadan,
Orgasmic Saturnalia, Joyous Kwanzaa
Chappy Channukah, and of course
(because I’m bad) Happy Holidays!

After the Spiritual Weekend – Monday Madness April 6, 2009

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I woke up discontent this morning.  I had a really wonderful weekend at my teacher’s place in Massachusetts, hanging with my fellow classmates and feeling really a part of something.  To be honest, my discontent started last night as I was talking about my veal-fattening pen of a job.  I was starting to feel more and more angry.

I slept well, but when I got up this morning and went about my usual business, I felt “enough already” sort of energy.  Some days are like this, they are worse than others.  Spring time increases them, I see.  (I wonder if the same happens i’the fall.  It might.  Ironically it’s the times when the day and night are balanced when the imbalances in people come to the fore.)

I’m anxious more and more.  The weekend was mostly lecture, with each of us having a one-on-one with the teacher.  We are all eager to move on to the next part of the training, which will begin in the fall.  We have stuff to do over the summer, however.  I do look forward to it.  Outside of that time between 7:45 a.m. and 5:45 p.m., my life works really well.

Gratitude is the thing that’s supposed to help.  How can I be grateful for the thoughts “I wish I was dead.  Where’s a self-service guillotine when you need one?”

Jehovahsatan and acceptance December 2, 2008

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I will cop to the mocking aspect of my referring to the Fundamendracular deity, insane patron of human erasure, as containing his supposed opposite.  Dr. Jekyll can not live without Mr. Hyde, and vice versa I might add.  Jehovah, “the Adversary”, they are one and the same.  Ironically, in the case of the L.D.pSycophath church, they regard Jesus as the brother of The Devil. 

I had my mind opened recently about the words Satan and Devil.  “Devil” just means “little God.”  (Heh–Jehovah as Dr. Evil, thereby making The Devil into Mini-Me!)  Satan-Adversary means to me that those who wish to X me out (hence X-ians) because I’m gay means that not only are they making me “Satan,” that because they are making themselves adversarial to me, then they are themselves acting “satanically” toward me.  On some level, we are all both Satan and devil, because we are all gods co-creating our world whether we wish to acknowledge our responsibility in this or not.

Some X-ians would like to believe they are Jehovahsatan’s little robots/automatons/zombies, but really all they’re doing is forgetting that each day they go out into the world with the X-ian(TM) brand label, they are merely choosing to submit their own sacred authority to … well, charming rogues with forked tongues perhaps.  Who have their own agendas for power-over other others, many of whom are windigo in the wallowing in their toxic beliefs.  And as I have posted elsewhere, when faced with addictions, even those as pernicious as self-satanizing x-ians have with their diabolisms ever slicing and slicing again and dicing and dicing again this one vs. that one vs. teh Othah into all sorts of hells being created ad infinitum in a deluded hall of mirrors, I have to remember those three C’s–didn’t cause it, can’t cure it, can’t control it.

As repulsive as all this is to me, it is my job as a witch to embrace this element, first in myself and then in the outer world.  Quite a difficult thing really, but at the same time, when I have had to look back at my own experience and seen when I’ve done stupid and hateful things, participated in gossip or reduced people to stereotypes, I see that to punish myself for these things gives power to the act that I need to cut off, and I have come to see that I must transform my hateful feelings to something useful at least.

As I enter more deeply into this work, and as I struggle to discover the place of activism in this world, which has seen activism become yet another branding strategy, I understand that the desire to create dualism or to react to others’ demonizing tactics enacted out of their own lack of humility and their own wallowing in insecurity comes from my own lack of humility and my insecurity as well. 

As within so without, as we say.

According to Gnostic Christians, Sophia is the mother of Jehovahsatan after all.  Wisdom gave birth to this dualistic demiurge who has been an instrument of separation for far more than 2 millennia.  How far back Ialdabaoth/Jehovahsatan goes is hard to know.  But the entity clearly represents an aspect of our humanity we would do well to embrace and transform. 

Nothing is wasted in Divine Economy after all.

And so I struggle to accept those who, with a smiling, even beatific visage, would throw me into a noose or burn me at the stake or shove me into a gas chamber/crematorium because they “care” about my soul.  The most salient lesson about people ensconced in this or any other addiction is that they are not conscious that they are doing anything evil.  While there are gangsters out there who seem to relish the evil they enact in the world (and I certainly wouldn’t rule out some of the pietistic gangsters proud of their evil actions who are also enamored of the fact that some people even think they are holy (and they are, just not in the way that they think)), for the most part everyday folks, the types who “vote their beliefs” really do believe they are acting in favor of “the good.”  And they can’t understand why I would perform protection magic over all of us GLBTs. 

Can’t we see they only want the best for us, which is to be removed from this world and cast into the lake of fire where we will burn forever and ever to the gory glory of the AK-47 Xt?  They love us so much they want us all to die already.  “It’s Jesus himself that would line you all up against a wall to be shot.  Jehovahsatan’s love is so great, indeed.” 

And letting myself feel how that feels in my body, I can have empathy for these self-medicating, self-satanizing X-ians(TM) who can’t allow something as devilish (little-godly) as feelings or conscience to impinge on their righteous insecurity, now can they?

Yuck.  I need to do some kala.  Cleanse, now.  Cleanse, cleanse, cleanse.

Opening Up to Writing Spirits October 15, 2008

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Capital Region Notions, humor.
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OK, that title might be a tad pretentious, but I swear sometimes it’s really hard for me to show up to write.  Lately, I have had a difficult time with writing for theater, and yet I feel that it’s a part of my God Work as it were, to put into gentle and hopefully funny play forms inspiring and uplifting works to help all of us, no matter what our differences are, to come together and reach across the artificial chasms created by pigenholing ourselves and others into stereotypes or what have you, and really start to create the communities, the Big Edens we suspect are really possible.

I will probably put up a new page with the latest play I’ve started.  Once I get a decent draft out, and start to work with some actors on it.  I think this play for which my working title is “This Is All Going To Go Away, You Know.  And It’s a Good Thing” might cause a minor ruckus with some people who are really sticking their fingers in their ears and going “la-la-la, the sun will come out tomorrow…” will be molto offgepissed that someone would DARE talk about what’s in front of our faces.  (Oh no, you’re SUPPOSED to let everyone get sucked dry by the vEmpire and cast aside.  You’re SUPPOSED to submit to jackbooted thugs who like nothing more than to killKillKILL your asses!  You’re supposed to, as Derrick Jensen has observed, walk calmly and serenely into the gas chamber, and convince yourself it’s just going to the bathroom.)

But I see that I need to find some comic ways to handle it, and the scenario seems to be a meal at a restaurant that doesn’t go off as planned.  Because everything is connected, and interestingly this play will happen simultaneously with another play by a local writer, and we will try to find creative ways for the two casts/scripts to interact beyond the obvious sharing of restaurant staff.  (It might also be a trip for the waiter and the Maitre-D’ to create an improv’d play of their own as the proceedings unfurl.)

Still, it’s nice to be able to step back a little and look at some of my own experiences with all of this, and try to formulate a character arc that diagrams what is going on.  And the character who sort of represents me looks at the snafus and the distracted staff with eager curiosity and empathy, while his companions seem to be horrified and in part determined not to see what Henry sees.  But they have to, as the restaurant ironically makes his point for him.  That we all have to work together.  And as others have said, we must love one another or die.  We must hang together or we’ll be hung separately, as good ol’ Ben F. has observed.

So all in all I’m rather excited and gratified.  I think this might turn into a longer script, but I want it to not be more than 17 pages for the time being. 

Ache’!

Shorter “conservative” thought September 19, 2008

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Reactionary/”Conservative” Individual: “I’m dumb.  And you should be too!  It’s not American to be smarter than me!  And I should kill you because Jesus likes that.”

Excuse me, can I repeat back to you what I hear?  You said, “SPRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWKKK!”  Did I leave anything out?