GUT Reaction…

As you may know, Dear Reader, I have a certain fascination with the number 137…

Really? …/lights up… Did I already know that, Clicky? …/drags… I know I already knew that… /plumes smoke…*

Sew… if a ‘137’ crosses my path, I pay attention…

snowdon tweet 137

… A ‘137’ tweet appeared on my Twitter feed earlier today, so after taking it’s photo I gave the tweet a ‘like’…

snowdon tweet like 11

… And turned it into 11 (1+3+7)…

eleven elf

*For a tweet about Public ‘Elf… /smokes…*

*Figures… /rolls eyes… On Boxing Day… 😉 …*

Butt… What exactly is Public ‘Elf demanding now, Dear Reader?

*Reminds me of a story, Clicky… /drags…*

*So, to beat their proclaimed ‘OBESITY EPIDEMIC’, Clicky… /stream smoke… Public ‘Elf and government have determined that all portions, henceforth, will be ‘funsize’? …/taps ash… Then what?*

My advice, Dear Reader? Eat, drink and be merry. And of course, have a Song…

Story Time: Caesar’s Were-Wife

Dear Reader, I thought I’d share with you my tale from Underdog Anthology VII…

uavii-cover2

*Fanks, Clicky… /pats snout… Be ready at the end with a Song…*

Enjoy!

*******

Caesar’s Were-Wife

by Roo B. Doo

Caroline Kempton-Truss closed the slim, pink folder in front of her, and placed it on the stack of coloured folders in her tray, ready for filing. Her desk was neatly spartan, like the rest of her office. She preferred to keep her surroundings like her thinking – lean, clean and tidy; everything in its right place. As the Local Authority’s newly appointed Director of Public Health, she fully intended to encourage her way of thinking throughout the workforce.

She gazed out of the picture window at the car park below. A steady stream of employees were leaving for the Christmas break already, tightly wrapped up against the bitter winds that swirled around the building regardless of the time of year. To Caroline they looked like ants – a slack army of fat ants that merely required whipping into shape. Now that the January health campaign was complete and ready to roll, she felt content to start their transformation.

There was a soft rap on the door behind her. Caroline returned to her desk and sat down, smoothing the crease in her tailored trousers as she crossed her legs. “Come in.”

Her secretary, Natalie, opened the office door and stepped inside. “Hi Caroline. I was wondering if I could possibly leave now. I have accrued sufficient overtime.”

Caroline looked at the slim, gold watch on her wrist. “It’s only two o’clock.”

“Yes, but it’s Christmas Eve,” Natalie spluttered nervously, “and the offices are closing early today at four anyway.” She hopped from foot to foot. “Plus it’s very quiet out there. It’s Christmas Eve.”

“Yes, I know it’s Christmas Eve,” Caroline snapped, immediately regretted her tone at Natalie’s flinch. Velvet glove, Caroline, she reminded herself, Velvet glove. “Of course. Yes of course you can leave early, Nat, but come and sit down first. I have a couple of things I need to talk to you about.”

Natalie closed the office door and sat down dutifully next to Caroline’s desk, hands tightly gripped in her lap. “Should I go fetch my pad and pen?”

“Good thinking, but not necessary,” Caroline replied, sliding open the bottom drawer of her desk. “This is for you. Merry Christmas,” she continued, handing over a cellophane wrapped basket filled with tubs and bottles, nestled in straw. “Smellies. They’re all natural and sustainably produced.”

Natalie sniffed the cellophane package gingerly. “Oh yes, I can tell,” she said, blushing, and placed the basket under her chair. “I’m sorry but I didn’t get you anything.”

“That’s okay.” Caroline leaned back in her desk chair and surveyed the secretary she’d inherited when she’d taken the job. Natalie was efficient, attentive and punctual; everything she could wish for in a PA. Her extensive knowledge of Local Authority protocol and procedures was a boon for Caroline’s ambitions. But Natalie was irredeemably flawed in Caroline’s eyes: she was a mess in need of fixing. “How old are you, Nat?”

Natalie raised her eyebrows at the bluntness of the question. “Oh.” She shifted in her seat, deciding to sit on her hands. “Um, well I’m going to be forty-five tomorrow.”

Now Caroline felt uncomfortable; she thought Natalie looked much older. “Tomorrow? Your birthday’s tomorrow?”

“Yes, that’s why my parents called me Natalie. Because I was born on Christmas Day.”

“Oh well, very many happy returns for tomorrow.” Caroline smiled broadly but thought, Forty-five? You look at least ten years older. Perfect. “Nat, I hope you don’t think me rude but you are exactly the type I’d like us to hit, and hit hard, with the ‘New You’ health campaign for January.”

“How do you mean?” Natalie asked, her eyes narrowing. “You want another secretary to look after you?”

“No, not at all,” Caroline exclaimed, realising her gaffe. She attempted to reign in the situation. “You’re brilliant, Nat. No, I was thinking more broadly about middle-aged women in general. You know, too busy working and maintaining families to have time to look after themselves properly. No time to cut out the vices that, they wrongly believe, help them to cope.”

“But I don’t drink or smoke,” Natalie replied cautiously, “and I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.”

“Ah but you do vape.” Caroline licked her lips. “I’ve seen you downstairs in the car park at lunchtimes. The vapour clouds those things make are hard to miss.”

Natalie cocked her head to one side and gnawed at her bottom lip. “But vaping helped me quit, Caroline. Without it, I’d still be smoking twenty a day.”

“And it’s commendable that you’ve quit smoking, it really is. Tobacco is the worst,” Caroline said emphatically. She herself had tried smoking once at college but the taste disgusted her, so she had no trouble in not taking it up. “But when you’ve gone through the pain and strife of kicking one disgusting vice, why replace it with another?”

Natalie shook her head. “I don’t think of vaping as disgusting. I find it relaxing and it’s much safer than smoking.”

“Ah but the jury is still out on its safety, Nat. When smoking first became popular, the long-term health problems it causes weren’t known. In fact smoking was promoted as a good thing. The same could be true of vaping. We just don’t know.” Caroline re-crossed her legs, again smoothing the crease of her trousers. It was a sound argument, regardless of her personal view of the practice.

Natalie continued gnawing her lip. “And it would only be for January?”

“Yes!” Caroline smacked her hand flat against the surface of her barren desk. “Exactly. For the ‘New You’ campaign. Think of it in terms of Caesar’s Wife.”

“Caesar’s wife?”

“Yes. It means to be seen to be above reproach. Look at it this way – how can we persuade the public to change their ways if we are not prepared to do it ourselves?”

Natalie’s lowered gaze flick up toward the office door. “I will think about it over Christmas.”

“Don’t think, Nat. Do!” Caroline chuckled. “‘Do for the New You’. It is the campaign’s strapline after all.”

“Okay,” Natalie murmured. “Is there anything else or can I go now?”

“Well,” Caroline mused, “You eat an awful lot of red meat. Bacon sandwiches at your desk for breakfast several times a week. I’m vegan, but fortunately I can tolerate the smell. Others though might find it too enticing – going vegetarian is one of the key planks of the ‘New You’ campaign.” Caroline could tell from the look on Natalie’s face that she was still sceptical but ploughed on regardless.  “It would really help others around you if the bacon butties could be knocked on the head for the month as well.”

Natalie stood up. “No, I mean is there anything else you need me to do before I can go home?”

“Oh sure, well just this filing, thanks.” Caroline grabbed the stack of folders from her tray and handed them over to Natalie. “And then you can go. As the Duty Officer until we close up at four,  I’ll be here for a couple of hours yet. There’s no rest for the wicked, eh?”

“No.” Natalie turned to leave. “Merry Christmas, Caroline.”

“You too. And have a very happy birthday, Nat. I look forward to seeing a ‘New You’ in the New Year.”

After Natalie had left, Caroline turned her attention back to the scene outside her window and contemplated how the conversation with Natalie had gone. True, she hadn’t got a firm commitment from her, but Caroline felt confident that it had gone pretty well, despite the shaky start. Every journey starts with a single step, she reassured herself smugly.

The sky was already starting to darken and the stream of departing employees had turned into a trickle. Soon I’ll be the only person left, Caroline thought and stifled a yawn. She decided that a brisk walk around the emptying building would liven her up. Stopping only to pick up her mobile phone, Caroline left her office.

Her stroll took her through several desolate floors of the building. She sighed and tutted at the desk clutter on display, safe in the knowledge that hardly anybody was still around to see her displeasure. Caroline passed bank after bank of desks that heaved with paperwork, tacky personal effects and garish Christmas decorations. The kitchenette areas on each of the floors told their own horror story. Sweet tins full of uneaten cakes and biscuits were piled high on counters, just waiting for staff to return after the break. The fridges were no better, packed as they were with plastic milk bottles, all at varying levels of emptiness, marked with each owner’s initials in thick, black ink. This whole place is infected, she thought disdainfully, I’ll have my work cut out for me here.

It was just past four o’clock by the time Caroline returned to the deserted Public Health department. With everybody else gone, the overhead lighting had switched off automatically, and the floor felt abandoned. Caroline shivered and wondered if the heating had also been turned off.  She walked smartly back to her office, glad that she could finally pack her things up to go home, but when she got there, it wasn’t empty.

“Nat?” Caroline stopped in the doorway and called to the shadowy figure, looking out of the window. “What are you doing standing in the dark. I thought you’d already left.”

“I had,” Natalie replied. She turned her head toward Caroline. “But I forgot to take my Christmas present, so I walked back.” She pointed at the cellophane basket still sitting under the chair next to the desk. “And I also have a gift for you.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Caroline chided with a smile. The flutter of concern Caroline had felt on spying a shadowy figure in her darkened office had dissipated to be replaced with warm glow of acceptance. She decide to push her luck. “You know, your active participation in the New Year campaign would be present enough.”

Natalie shrugged and turned her head back to view outside the window. “Look. The Moon is rising. It’s not quite full.”

Caroline joined Natalie at the window. “Oh yes.” Caroline smiled, “Thank God it’s not a full Moon. The last thing anyone needs on Christmas Eve is a werewolf on the rampage.”

“Yeah,” Natalie laughed softly. “It’s a fiction created by Hollywood, you know.”

“What is? The Moon or werewolves?”

“Oh the Moon is real, but so are werewolves. The first has no effect on the other though. Except in the movies.”

“Really? How do you know that?” Caroline checked her wristwatch; it was all very well chitchatting with staff but time was ticking on. She moved away to collect her handbag and coat.

Natalie didn’t move. “In Poland, where my grandparents came from, there is a long tradition of werewolves, and many legends. Practically the whole of eastern Europe has them. And none of them involve the cycles of the Moon as far as I can tell. Still, everyone believes it does.”

Caroline pulled on her coat and started buttoning it. “Have you made a study of it?” she asked distractedly.

“A little because of my birthday. According to Polish myth, werewolves are born on Christmas Day. It’s an affront to God or something.” Natalie turned to Caroline and grinned. “I’m not one, by the way,” she said, holding up her hands.

“That’s good to know,” Caroline said, belting up her coat and hoisting the strap of her handbag over her shoulder. “Well, I think it’s time we pushed off. Do you live very far from here? I can give you a lift.”

“Not far, but no.” Natalie retrieved the gift basket from under the chair and joined Caroline at the door. “I’m meeting my brother downstairs. Actually there’s something I wanted to ask you about.”

“Sure. Let’s walk and talk.” Caroline led the way through the darkened office to the brightly lit lift lobby. She pressed the button to call for a lift and smiled at Natalie. “What’s on your mind?”

Natalie watched the progress of the lift’s journey up from the ground floor on the electronic display above its doors. “It’s about what you said earlier and Caesar’s wife. Is that going to be in effect for all our health campaigns from now on, or just the ‘New You’ one?”

“Ideally, yes-” A whistling howl of racing wind filling the lift shaft interrupted Caroline’s reply. She grimaced at the noise. “Leading by example is so important, I think.” The lift arrived and she ushered Natalie to get in first. “At the very least I’d like us to be seen to be practicing what we preach.” She hit the button for the ground floor.

“Like a religion?” Natalie asked slowly, gnawing softly on her bottom lip.

“Well no, but in many ways, yes.” Caroline tittered at the analogy; she hadn’t thought of Public Health quite like that before, but now that she had, she rather liked it; she would use it in the future. “Our bodies are temples after all.”

They reached the ground floor and started toward the exit to the car park. Caroline’s elegant heels click-clacked on the polished stone floor as she crossed the Reception area. A lone security guard sat behind the counter, looking bored. “Merry Christmas,” she called to him as she passed.

Natalie stopped at the counter, placing the gift basket on it. “Hey Caroline!” she shouted at the retreating figure of her boss. “Caroline. Have you met my twin brother Gene?”

Caroline stopped and walked back to Natalie and the guard, who was prodding at the gift basket with his finger, nose wrinkled.

“I didn’t know your brother worked here, Nat,” she said, apprehensively. She’d barely paid the security guard any attention before, but now that she looked, she could see the resemblance between him and Natalie. He was darker and hairier than her, but they had the same eyes. “So it’s your birthday tomorrow as well? What time will you be finishing?”

“Tomorrow,” Gene replied sullenly.

“Oh well. Happy birthday for tomorrow anyway.” Caroline nodded and turned to leave. “To both of you. And have a lovely Christmas.” Pleasantries concluded, and with the exit in sight, all she wanted to do was leave.

“Caroline’s a vegan, Gene.” Natalie’s voice rung out clearly across reception. “She wants us to give up eating meat for the New Year.”

Caroline stopped in her tracks. “Now Natalie…” She turned and was enveloped in a cloud of steam.

“And vaping,” Natalie said drawing on her vape contraption and releasing another cloud of steam in Caroline’s direction. “She’s thinking of starting a religion.”

“What? Another one?” Gene sneered. “Is there a fucking seminary, churning out Public Health priests?”

Caroline held her breath and batted the vapour cloud away. She was lost for words and perplexed at the sudden change in her secretary; she’d never encountered such insubordination before. “You’re not allowed-”

“Not allowed?” Natalie roared, interrupting Caroline. “I’m not allowed to vape inside? Why not? There’s nobody else here.” She turned to her brother. “Is anybody else left in the building, Gene?”

Gene’s jaw jerked forwards several times, as if it was trying to leave his face. “No, sis. Just us,” he barked and gnashed his teeth. “They made sure they all left in good time,” he croaked.

“Now look here-” Caroline was interrupted again, this time by Gene falling off his chair, his body convulsing violently. “Oh my god! Is he okay? Natalie?!”

Natalie peered serenely over the reception counter. “Yeah, he’s fine. He’ll just be a second.” She turned her attention back to Caroline. “But you might not be,” she said coldly. “That’s up to you.”

Caroline’s mouth flapped silently. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing or hearing. The sound of tortured whines and yelps coming from behind the desk hurt her ears. The stretching, cracking and snapping noises were turning her legs to jelly. “I… I… I…”

“That’s right,” Natalie spat, “it’s all about you, isn’t it Caroline? You want to turn everybody into an replica image of you because you’re so wonderful.” She blew another cloud of vape in her boss’s direction. “Don’t think the rest of us here don’t know what you’re up to. The way you constantly judge us. We’ve seen it all before. And to be frank, we’re fucking tired of it.”

A maleficent howl reverberated around the empty reception lobby. Caroline’s bladder gave way, as did her legs, and she collapsed to the floor with a sodden thump. She sobbed in horror as the howling suddenly stopped, to be replace by a deeply sinister growl. What is happening? her mind whimpered.

Natalie crouched down next to the quaking Caroline. She put her arm around her back and held her upright. “It was funny you mentioning werewolves earlier. It must be your obsession with transformation that made you think of it. Time for your gift, I think.”

She lifted the shaking woman to her feet and walked her closer to the reception desk. Pulling up Caroline’s coat sleeve to reveal her trembling arm, Natalie gave three sharp whistles. A snarling maw appeared.

“I like you Caroline. I don’t want to have to kill you like all the rest,” Natalie cooed. “They’ll just install another knob, exactly like you, to try and change us.” She gave another whistle, low and long.

Caroline shrieked in pain and terror as Gene’s slavering jaws clamped around her arm. She felt a viscous pooling of blood and saliva on the desktop beneath her arm. She screamed again.

Natalie smacked Gene’s snout firmly and whistled again. Caroline’s arm fell limply from his jaws and he backed away, growling and licking his chops.

“That, Caroline, is your Christmas gift from me and the rest of your work colleagues,” Natalie whispered fiercely into her ear. “Transformation. You are going to be amazed at how different the ‘New You’ will be next month.”

*******

Have a Song, Dear Reader 😀

The Jingle-Jangles

Happy Day, Dear Reader! Thoughtful Man saw a news story this morning that brought a smile to his face…

*Good on ’em, Clicky… /flickers lighter… What the fuck is wrong with people? …/lights up… It’s like they’ve gone banish crazy…* 

*/taps ASH…*

…And ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’ is not the only Christmas classic receiving calls to be culled. Thoughtful Man has been extremely vexed of late…

Shane MacGowan responds to calls for the word ‘FAGGOT’ to be removed from ‘Fairytale Of New York’

*/drags… Faggot? …/snorts smoke… Fag, I got…*

*Exactly!*

… And talking of outside… 

*So they’ve finally decided to shift their arses, Clicky?…/stubs butt... Talk about leave it to the last minute…*

Have a Song 😉

More Of US

I meant to post about this earlier, Dear Reader, but have been rather remiss due to other matters requiring my attention…

On the evening of the 20th November 2018, the Red universe of MEROVEE disappeared…

Merovee gone blue

*Poor Frank! Tremayne-dos fella… /sparks light… Oh no, Poor Us! Everything we’ve posted there over the past six years, cruelly snatched away… /lights up… I gotta say, that’s a fucking weird image for WordPress to backdrop their message with, Clicky… /drags… Cheering crowds? …/streams smoke… Arms raised…*

*/smokes… Hmm… /thinks*

Weirdly enough, four days later on Saturday 24th November 2018, Dear Reader, an army of ‘Yellow Vests’ took to the streets of Paris, Franc-e, demonstrating against a rise in Green taxes…

*If you take the yellow out of green, you’re left with blue… /flicks ash… An’ if you take the red out of purple, you’re left with blue…*

*Didn’t Brazil recently elect their own ‘Orange Man’, Clicky? …/stubs butt… Witch means if you take the red/excretion/piss out of ‘Trump’, you get yellow…*

Fortunately, Dear Reader, there is a new MEROVEE sight, although its address has changed to Meroveus…. More Of Us… Sounds scary 😉

Have a Song…

Stack The Deck…

*Tell me about it, Clicky… /lights up…*

Apols! for the lack of posting recently, Dear Reader. It’s been a busy couple of weeks writing and editing for the upcoming ‘Underdog Anthology VII: Christmas Lights… And Darks’…

*/drags… Yep, just waiting on final checks by the authors now, Clicky…*

Hopefully the book will be available to purchase before the end of the week. It’s well worth a read as it contains some absolutely cracking short stories. A perfect stocking filler…

*Not like that, Clicky… /blows…*

Perhaps it’s the general mood, but this time round I’ve had a go at writing a ‘dark’ tale for a change… as well giving a beloved Christmas carol a good kicking in the Afterword…

*Oh that’s way too upbeat, Clicky… /flicks ash…*

Currently in the UK, we’re watching the Brexit debacle unfold. The ‘DisMay’ Deal of Tessie Jackboots is being debated in Parliament, against the backdrop of ‘Project Fear’ projected throughout Mainstream Media. The upside is that it has made choosing this year’s offering for mutilation on the Dead Poets’ Page rather easy.

Musician Thomas Oliphant (born 1799, died 1873) provided the lyrics for the perennial favourite of carol singers everywhere. And as MPs prepare to vote on the future of the country, ‘Deck the Halls’ lends itself to ‘Stack the Deck’ rather neatly. Possibly too neatly… Judge for yourself.

Tweet a load of Brexit Bollocks

Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah, blah-blah-blah-blah

‘Twas the fault of voting Morlocks

Aargh-argh-argh-argh-argh, argh-argh-argh-argh

Back the PM in her deal

Baa-baa-baa, baa-baa-baa, baa-baa-baa

Troll with fear ’til it seems real

Bwah-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-HA!

Apparatchiks brag of d’Accord!

Ooh-la-la-la-la, Ooh-la-la-la

Strikes a deal to keep us shackled

Ja-ja-ja-ja-ja, ja-ja-Jawohl!

Says its one thing, means another

Lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie

Make the plebs embrace Big Brother

Bwah-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-HA!

Stack the deck with drones and toadies

Waah-waa-waa-waa-waa, waah-waa-waa-waa

Offer bribes of jobs and trophies

Fnah-ha-ha-ha-ha, Fnah-ha-Woo-ha!

Fingers in ears, deal together

La-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la

We’ll stay EU-bound forever

Bwah-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-HA!

Who knows how our milksop politicians will vote next week, Dear Reader. In the meantime… Have a Song 😉

*******

Friday 7th December 2018 – UPDATE!

Underdog Anthology VII is now available to buy, Dear Reader, for Kindle and as paperback via Amazon, and at Smashwords. This volume of the series also includes photos of the authors… 😀

 

Missive From ‘Merica: Editor!

Dear Reader, WordPress have changed the editing function here so that posts are now constructed more like…

*Yes, very blocky, Clicky. Not sure if I like it yet…*

… I asked Cade if he would send a missive for me to have a play with, and he has obliged…

*I know! How he managed to knock one out just like that… Amazing!*

*******

Just when I thought it impossible get any fatter, older and uglier, I get my new driver’s license in the mail.

Old? CHECK!

Fat? ABSOLUT!

Ugly? AL MÁXIMO!

I really don’t mind being ugly on the outside tho. I know, that what is on the inside, is much, MUCH, worse.

^Drumsound & Bassline Smith vs. Teddy Killerz – Metal & Blood^

So Limeys…how’s your week been? Anything going on? I’m not going to “pick up” where I left off on a blog post on my own blog last night, but I admit that I kinda danced around a few things as I tried to express some thoughts that I’ve had for a while about both BREXIT and The EU.

Almost everything about The EU revolves around commerce. Engaging in commerce, expanding commerce, protecting commerce…commerce, commerce, commerce. 

Almost sounds communistic.

Digress. Um, let’s go ahead and jump…

Q: In business, who can you trust?

A: No one.

K, so, with The UK in mind, I don’t give a shit who you are, they are always and forever going to protect themselves. Dunno about anyone else, but I find this a commendable trait to possess. And what I am thinking here, is that I don’t really see what The UK is doing as some kind of rebellious bandwagon for others to hop on board with, simply to oppose The EU. If anything, that would play right into The EU’s hand(s). Create the enemy they desire to have, and suddenly, you need an army to protect against this new threat. And I’m not directly accusing The UK of playing both sides of the fence because I personally am not one to sell The UK that short. Historically, if there is a side to play, GB is likely in the game. But at the same time, there are some other interests to consider.

European Space Agency
Bank of England
British Aerospace
BAE Systems
Airbus
BP
CERN
Nord Stream
SEAFISH
Maritime Affairs & Fisheries
EU Aquaculture
Aquaculture

Those are just a few of the bubbles that have been, and continue to be created.

no pun intended

^Friction – Commotion (ft. Jem Cooke)^

Imma go ahead and look up some shit on the developments of this week, which I’ve previously avoided, and let’s us see what all this business is about resignations.

Britain’s May vows to see Brexit through despite wave of resignations

OK…so…if I’m reading this right, there is a mutiny going down right in front of us, and the captain is refusing to step down/relinquish her command of the ship. Without making too many references to Captain Bligh or Captain Ahab, there is something commendable about May standing her ground. If there is indeed both internal and external shenanigans transpiring to settle some scores/achieve some gains, and there almost certainly is, May refusing to resign possibly could wind up being the one shining light in this whole mess.

I’m not suggesting that her methods are sound, but neither is jumping ship to save your own skin when there is still plenty of time and there are plenty of buckets available for bailing water. Just because you and your lover are going your separate ways, prolly doesn’t give you carte blanche to treat yourself and/or them like shit.

Ya’ll take care of yourselves and each other over there…k?

^Dan Caplen – Trouble (Calyx & TeeBee Remix)^

Someone mentioned this in conversation this week…

Unconformities

What’s that “gaia” shit in the URL? I know that I see “gaia” pop up quite a bit with respect to ascension and spiritual awakening and all that nonsense, but I never really associated it directly with geology. Let’s do some digging around and see if there is any kind of direct and/or implied connection between Gaia and geology.

X: Hold up there pal.

Cade: You are already well aware that I don’t want to do this here and now.

0: That’s likely why you should do it…here, and now.

Cade: I’ve never had someone specifically request a convo. Not sure how this is gonna turn out.

Z: Probably like the rest of them…a confusing bunch of nonsense that no one understands, up to and including the actual participants.

Cade: Speak for yourself. I understand them just fine.

T: You promised to qualify/quantify me in the last discussion.

Cade: I dunno about any promise being made, but I do recall it being mentioned.

T: You “recall it being mentioned” do you?

Cade: Maybe.

T: 🙂

Cade: I’ve never tried to put you in a box.

X: Trying to maybe make it easier for a reader to understand Thoth’s role?

Cade: Well, not just and only the reader. I myself have been quite lost in these things from the start.

Z: And that first “convo” was a doozie as I recall.

Cade: Indeed it was…lots of back and forth with very little actual dialogue.

T: Thought.

Cade: Eventually, it just kinda worked out that way. The thought of you sitting there alone for a long period of time, and nothing to do but sit and think? That’s a disturbing image to carry around with me.

T: You can relate?

Cade: In some ways, but not to your own personal experience.

T: All alone, with nothing but time to think about it.

Cade: Been there, done that.

T: Not out in space you haven’t.

Cade: Oh, you want to talk about that do you.

0: Let me step in here and save your bacon for you. You think that “T” is trying to get you to talk about some of your iterations?

Cade: That’s the feeling I got, but I’m still not sure how to do it.

X: How to talk about the iterations, you mean.

Cade: Correct.

Z: It made sense at the time, but not now, is that what you are trying to say?

Cade: Six singularities, seven reapers, two deaths, 4,948 iterations.

T: Wait, 4,948 iterations in the here and now?

Cade: Kinda, but no. Not active.

Z: All the way through?

Cade: That was the feeling I got.

0: That wasn’t the first feeling you got tho, right?

Cade: Correct. The first interpretation was 4,948 that kinda, “cascaded”, in the here and now based on need.

0: And it got ugly from there?

Cade: VERY ugly. One from every second of every day, all reliving that same second of that same day over and over again.

X: Millions.

Cade: Millions…indeed.

X: And where are you now?

Cade: 4,948 times, all the way through.

X: From the beginning to the end?

Cade: I still think it’s just an example to help me better relate to what it’s like to ride creation all the way from the start to the end.

A: Lots to see in there.

Cade: Indeed there is.

Z: Especially if you’ve ridden that ride 4,948 times. That’s a long time.

Cade: A very long time.

Z: It’s always the same?

Cade: The best that I can gather is that it’s never the same.

0: Are you sure that you aren’t just being hopeful there?

Cade: That’s a fair assessment, and I’ve certainly thought about it, so perhaps it’s best to say that it’s not always the same. I’m a single observer who is observing from a single perspective.

X: Lots to remember.

Cade: Whew…it’s mind-boggling sometimes.

X: Relief?

Cade: Methinks we all need some of that sometimes.

X: And you were “activated” because?

Cade: No clue /me shrugs

CX: …

Lemme go ahead and do some of that Gaia/geology digging now.

^Fox Stevenson – Bruises^

Oh...

Gaia

…there’s my answer right goddamn there. Which, why in the FUCK is Scorpio a water sign?

X: Probably because you piss me off.

T: You make me cry.

0: Water you want from me?

Z: I can’t follow that.

A: I can 😉

Cade: Oh, can, like, watering can?

B: You might wanna bail while you’ve still the option to do so.

C: Come sea me when you are ready.

Cade: Oy vey.

K, so Gaia is land/earth and/or mother earth. I guess I need to know shit like that.

Terra (Mythology)

I’m learning all kinds of neato stuff today.

X: You most likely should know things like that too since you tend refer to “Earth” as “Terra”.

Cade: Good call.

X: Work on it.

Cade: Acknowledged and understood.

X: /rolls eyes

I saw something today about something called…

Vantablack

That got me to thinking about light particles/photons being absorbed at higher rates, and that got me to really pondering some of the more finite ways of directing energy. Not to mention that the name itself kinda weirded me out because I’ve been to Vantaa, Finland before. Anyway, I got to thinking about at what point does the absorption of light, actually become the attraction of light and perhaps other particles as well. This got me to thinking about vortices, vacuums, and high/low pressure systems. Seeing as how I’ve been kicking around how some angular vectors of the curved variety maintain their curvature, let’s us do a quick peek and see if anyone else is doing some digging around self-sustaining types of forces.

Self-sustaining processes at all scalesin wall-bounded turbulent shear flows

I guess I’m not the only nutter on the block thinking about wacky and fucked-up shit like this.

^Dirtyphonics – Scorpion^

Speaking of conversation(s), I spent about 2.5 hours on Wednesday having lunch with my mother, and we covered some serious ground. I’m still not sure exactly what was said, but the conversation was stimulating on a lot of levels. Got the feeling that she was concerned for my soul, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but I sometimes get the feeling that others sometimes just poke me with a spiritual stick for no other reason that to see what I’ll do.

What I'll say. How I'll react. How my disposition is affected.

I love talking history and religion and politics and other pretty much meaningless crap, but when you start to shove spirituality into those things, yeah, I get a shade…dodgy…skittish…squeamish…I close down.

You aren’t telling me about your own spirituality, you’re trying to define mine. If you wanna know what I think or how I feel? Ask. Otherwise, I’m likely to just think you are telling me what you’ve found for yourself and how happy that has made you. It makes me happy too. I love it when people get all spiritually charged because they’ve had a breakthrough of some kind, and I really am happy for you.

Me? I think I’ll keep looking. She did appear kinda shocked that I was keeping up with the things I keep up with, and was equally surprised that I’m reading and studying about a lot of the things that I read and study about. Granted, we’re different people in that I personally am equally as comfortable operating in the fringes as I am the mainstream, and she is not.

^Muzzy & Koven & Feint – Worth The Lie [Monstercat Release]^

This is where this one is going to stop. RooBeeDoo informed me earlier today that WordPress appears to have made yet more changes to their editor. I asked if she wanted me to bang out a whatever, and she said that would be good, so here you go. Hope you enjoyed the ride. Love you all bunches.

Ya Rly...I do.

^Maduk & Dennis Pedersen – Miles Apart (ft. Ella Noël & Rino)^

cYa | cFa

^Polar Youth ft. Georgie Allen – All Night (Metrik Remix)^

*******

*It is a bit frustrating, Clicky, butt I’m sure we’ll get used to it…*

We hope you enjoyed this impromptu missive, Dear Reader, and for my take on Brexit, see hear… Have a Song 😉

Brexit Shambles

*/flicks lighter … Hey Clicky… /lights up… Actually there were 2 dead mouses in the trap this morning… /drags… To go with the dead one and the live one caught in the trap yesterday… /streams smoke…*

*Yeah, poor sod. Fancy being trapped all night with the corpse of your mate… /puffs… I let him out into the garden…*

*Sew, Brexit? What in the snafu was that all about this week, Clicky?*

*’This is sovereignty itself on the chopping block’ …/flicks ash… Blimey, Click, strong words… /final drag… Butt what did Jackboots have to say for ‘erself?*

*An’ wot about the eww? …/stubs butt… wot did they say?*

*Yikes! Butt wot we meant to doo ab out it, Clicky?*

*Suppose sew… /lights up…*