pumpkin carved candy purchased

Gelis and Nicholas scratch track.

I stuck the pumpkin out front this morning so people could smile at it on their way to work.

Buster is really really really tired of the cone of shame. He’s getting noisier in the morning and he just wants to cuddle all the time. We’ve taken it off so he could at least wash his front paws but THEN he wants to clean his sore eye, and NOPE. Back it goes. Saturday can’t come fast enough for our animal companion.

There’s a load of laundry in the dryer and coffee’s been made. The day hath commenced.

Must buy glowsticks for the rest of the decoration but unfortunately there’s a bus strike, or is there? Nope, starts tomorrow. All good for today.

 

Atheist cult!

Hooo weee kids THIS IS THE CREDO OF A NEW ATHEIST CULT

 

Aaron Rabinowitz via PZ Myers

 

  1. The truth is complex and painful but intrinsically valuable, so help others learn it and help others suffer through it.
  2. Luck drives everything, so have as much empathy as you can for those who suffer and do wrong.
  3. Morality and value are still real, because experience is real and instills in us a variety of obligations that, when enacted, promote flourishing.
Atheist Cult Rules

Land acknowledgement

The world is now awash in land acknowledgments. The Aussie one at the end of many TV productions sounds like it went through a glass-cutter:

We acknowledge the Traditional Owners of country throughout Australia and recognise their continuing connection to land, waters and culture. We pay our respects to their Elders past, present and emerging.

See, in my conception of the local Indigenous practices, they don’t own land. They’re in a permanent (in planetary existence timescales) and precious relationship with their land and their language and their people, and to call the land part of the relationship ownership is everything that’s wrong with colonialism in a single sentence.

I see that acknowledgment as shown above and I feel a gaping lack.

(However I urge you to look up how the word ‘country’ is used in English by many Indigenous people living in Australia, because it’s beautiful and resonant.)

As of 2019, this is my land acknowledgement:

I acknowledge that nothing short of complete restitution of Indigenous lands across this Earth will do.

I acknowledge that reparations for the land, war crimes, genocide, language extinction; theft, despoliation and destruction of great works of art and cultural centred-ness; as well as yet unknown-to-science damages to Indigenous people caused by sequelae from these events, are due in full measure, and I hate that capitalism is going to make that reparation virtually impossible even if it completely fails, as I hope it does.

I will hold up Indigenous rights and ask Indigenous persons no rude questions, tell no rude lies about them, and may study but co-opt none of their spiritual or artistic practices for praise or pay.

I will pay Indigenous editors to read my fiction, some of which is already published, but which needs to be vetted by someone without my biases, so that it may be changed, and changed again if need be; the future comes on fast.

This land, the land I live on, belongs in the human care of Coast Salish people, nations among whom made their own agreements, under their own systems of justice and negotiation. I hope to keep living here, after it’s been released from colonial bondage and theirs in the sense that they may be in their traditional relationship with this land, without colonial interference. I hope to live here when the sign at the city limits comes down and there are no longer any artificial colonial barriers between any of the lands here.

I’m a settler here. My descendants will most likely be settlers. I will never go through the farce of ‘owning’ land under the stamp of the Province of British Columbia again or indeed anywhere in what is now called Canada, and I encourage my children to do likewise. I am unemployed and cannot pay the rent I owe to any local nation, but I acknowledge that I owe it and may be called upon to pay it some other way.

eyeroll wrong day

The indigenous arts thing is today, not yesterday; Paul and I sang and played for a while here (he wasn’t prepared and was having a hell of time with remembering words but we laughed and sang and played anyway, so there) and then went to his place where we worked on household finances splitting for a while which was interesting (helping him set up a spreadsheet) and then Katie came home and told, rapidfire, a very droll standup routine about her job, and fixing machines at work, and how she’s covered one end to the other in bruises, which you’re gonna be if your brand new to the ‘moving marble’ game. Then I begged her to take me with her to pick Alex up and his smile was almost enough to power me through a week and Katie dropped me off.

Laundry is complete in the sense that the clothes are clean and dry.

Thinking about that tourtière but I have to get through the leftover Chinese food first.

Fringe final season is really about how we’re all doomed without love; I currently feel like I have plenty. I’m not suffering from family strife and dislocation right now, so I’m above the happiness waterline, whatever my stupid brain and weird biochemistry has to say about things.

Just had the most amazing and wonderful convo on line with an old dear friend. She’s got hard times but lots of joy anyway, and I love her. OMG THIS IS WHAT SHE SAID ON FB ABOUT THAT CONVO

 

This morning, I had the longest facebook messenger convo of my life and it was, with little exaggeration and without getting into personal details, a life saver.
Technology really can overcome distance and give you meaningful connections with people far away.
Reach out to your friends, and you will get and give support in ways you can’t imagine.
We all need each other.
I am grateful and thankful for the love and support of my girlfriends.

 

I JUST MISTOOK AO3 FOR AOL in a convo and I’m like the picture of an embarrassed boomer. And there may be one person who reads this blog who understands the reference.

Somebody on facebook said tell us 10 books that stuck with you.  Since I could just yell DOROTHY DUNNETT FUCK YEAH and sit back down again I purposely left her out of the list. Instructions were spend no time on it just pick the 10 books you remember as meaningful and memorable and here they are.

 

The Gift of Fear, Gavin de Becker
The Gnostic Gospels, Elaine Pagels
You Just Don’t Understand, Deborah Tannen
Sex Time and Power, Leonard Shlain
Forty Rules of Love, Elif Shafak (This is the book that gave me permission to structure my novels the way that works for my brain, kinda untraditional but still with a clear thruline)
Sandman comics, Neil Gaiman et al
Maus, Art Spiegelman
Conundrum, Jan Morris
A Distant Mirror, Barbara Tuchman
Kingdom of Carbonel, Barbara Sleigh
I’m trying to think of if these books have anything in common beside the fact that I read them, but it may be interesting to see the threads….
The Gift of Fear taught me that even if little girls are supposed to comply, if you’re scared BOOK IT. I avoided gang rape by following this book’s advice. You don’t forget a gift like that.
The Gnostic Gospels, as well as exposing me to the 1400 mystery cults that were apparently coexisting in Palestine and environs in the early years of Christianity, exposed me to Sophia, the presence of wisdom, as female. I’m an atheist but it was a telling moment. Also, the Bible was not dictated by God! and it was hidden and reworked and assembled like the world’s fugliest philology convention had a speed dating/face punching round! Thanks, Elaine!
You just don’t Understand taught me that men are judgemental assholes, real fucking clownbags, morons, hypocrites and straight up manipulating jerks when it comes to communicating with women, and I can turn that to my advantage if I want to completely forget how I was raised. Essentially it analyzed, in broad terms, the communication styles of men and women, mostly from English language research, and I learned that men really suck at communicating but judge women for their style because it isn’t theirs, while we have to learn everything about the way men communicate or they’ll fucking rape and kill us. Unless they’re among the little bubble of men I hang out with, who just aren’t into that. I did learn one very useful trick when talking to men and I must use it every week or so. I’m not going to tell you what it is, and besides you’re still mad at me for calling men clownbags so just hang on to that rage kids.
Sex, Time and Power – Jeff gave it to me for Christmas fourteen years ago and I read it in one sitting. It made a lot of sense to me. My new understandings of the underpinnings of society being buttressed by the crypto nature of women’s reproductive systems (in terms of ovulation) and the non-crypto nature (in terms of menstruation) were absolutely crucial to how I structured sixer sexuality, and how it would impact their ‘society’.
Already let you in on how important Forty Rules of Love was to me. Tammy gave me that.
I’m not going to talk about the Sandman comics; you should read them, if you haven’t.
Maus. It took me THREE REREADS to understand the ending, and then my heart broke, and rebroke ever single time I thought about it for almost a month. An unbelievable work of art, of homage to his difficult, opportunistic, racist (after Auschwitz/Oscwiecem, oy), hoarder, judgemental father, of historical reckoning, of emotional truth.
Conundrum got my foot on the path to wanting to understand the transgender experience. Morris was privileged in ways many transgender people aren’t, and doesn’t really address that too much in this work, which I read in paperback in the early eighties, before Kimberlé came up with intersectionality. Transgender activists are now among my strongest, strangest and funniest teachers as I slide down the rest of my life arc.  I thought about my perceived gender and my felt gender quite a bit over the last ten years, and my feelings are complicated enough that I don’t want to talk about them in public. I will say that I’m happy with the body I was issued and have no complaints or plans for revision on that score, mostly so my parents can sit back down and unbug their eyes.
A Distant Mirror. I find it absolutely hilarious that when myself and a potential new friend are talking books, this one comes up. Almost every intelligent person I know who speaks English has read it. SOMEBODY MAKE A FUCKING MOVIE ABOUT THE SIRE DE COUCY Calice, tabernac.
Kingdom of Carbonel is the middle book of a trilogy of talking cats novels written in the period between the late fifties and the early seventies. Of all the children’s books I ever read this one comes closest to limning how kids feel about ‘summer friends’ the families and children you only see when school’s out. Gone Away Lake is the next best example of that.
Are there any common threads? I read non-fiction and am changed by it more than fiction. The fiction I read must broaden my perspective, open my heart, and challenge my vocabulary. But the non-fiction is what goes under my foot and in my hand; it is my connection the real world of unfolding understanding of how the grand scheme of things and the most trivial of pastimes are all of a piece.

A quick roundup plus my song for July 1 2017

Called or spoke to a remarkable percentage of the people I love today and am feeling better for it. Got news out of Katie that, independent of the blast of sunlight us poor benighted and bedrenched Vancouverites received at sunset, was THE BEST. Last night was INSANELY UGLY BUSY and there’s a definite uptick of serious illness right now which I believe corresponds to having a thunderstorm during allergy season. Yeah, it’s not good.
There was a thunderstorm the other day. I’m used to thunderstorms in Vancouver – they consist of one crack of thunder, either during February (weird, hug) or late summer, not now.
Toronto trip is on.
I am feelin’ the love.

Oh yes I’m a member of the working poor
and I’ve walked the windy corridor at Yonge and Bloor
There’s always someone wealthier with more to say
And I’m just trying to get through another day

Oh yes I’m a member of the working class
and I think about Vancouver before Jack got gas
Before they took the timber out of Stanley Park
and it was still safe to be native after dark

Go ahead and mock me as a working slob
a bus ride away from a demeaning job
who gets to see exactly how the poor folks do
But I don’t expect understanding, not from you

On facebook and twitter I have found a voice
You’re the one who thinks that I should have no choice
Who wants me to be marginal who wants me to stay poor
calls me race traitor, calls me ugly whore

See my dayglo banner that says “eat the rich”
You’ll run me down cause I’m a social justice bitch
But thank you for clarifying where I stand
Every inch of Canada is someone else’s land
It’s all bound together, it will not go away
Not feeling like celebrating, not today

Improvement

This day I gave blood, practiced my mandolin, wrote 512 words on a new section of the book, and got a restaurant meal at Best Quality Sweets & Restaurant which has, as promised the best cheap Indian vegetarian food. Today was black lentils and spinach and taters and this enchanting but somehow disturbing tasting (I don’t know how else to describe it) vegetable medley that was mostly onions. Thank you Paul.

Then I watched Jupiter Ascending, and a noisier bit of incoherent eye candy one rarely gets to see.  Ah, the recreation of the couple!

Trying to arrange a Mother’s Day thing for next Monday, we shall see.

Grateful

I have been fed a pleasant breakfast at White Spot by Jeff; I have finally finally read The Fall of the House of Usher, and much pleased with it was I (Jeff triggered me reading it by declaring yesterday that just smelling coffee brewing made him uncomfortable, so I got up and read the story – and now I’m thinking of reading Poe’s Eureka, seeing as how it’s all over the news); Buster’s cone of shame is off and he’s been for a nice walk around the yard with Jeff in tow; I have heard nice words about the first part of the novel from a friend; Paul took me for a lovely long walk in the Fraser Foreshore Park yesterday as the sun beat down with an intensity truly thrilling for the end of January (and he tried to tease me into a canoe ride on the Fraser, which I lifted my eyebrow and nothing else at) and let me drive thither and hence; I have a plan of attack (finally) for section two that I think will possibly even work this time; I have a plan of what to do when I’m not writing. Much of my anxiety over the last little while has been shed, although I still think we’re going to get an earthquake. Hey, I prepared as well as I can and I know where my go bag is and what my first move will be.  (Making coffee on the barbecue for the rescue workers).

And apart from the deck being more slippery than Stephen Harper’s morals this morning, everything is a-ok. Oh, and Suzette Haden Elgin is dead. Her observations on language and feminism have deeply and crookedly informed my own ideas.

October 4 2004 – 2009 – I feel like I’ve made no progress as a human

youth report
2004-10-04Posted by: allegra

I am pleased to report, that for this Sunday at least, the size of the youth group went up 50%, from two to three.

Katie is talking to Kai on the phone. Matt hasn’t phoned in 5 days and they are discussing how they will abuse him. Fortunately she is just blowing off steam. It’s too bad, really, he seemed like such a nice guy. I said she should wait until he’s explained himself, but she’s justing waiting to see him again so she can dump him.

I’m glad I’m not young anymore.

 

OOO OOO pr0n for my mom
2005-10-04Posted by: allegra

http://worldbeardchampionships.com/

Go nuts, ma, your Dream Boy is in there someplace…..

 

Moving right along
2006-10-04Posted by: allegra

I am trying to intuit what Katie’s school fees are this morning; I have emails from the school saying pay up but there’s nothing to indicate what the Viking tax is to keep Katie in school. Yes I know they just declared school fees illegal.

Her boyfriend is trying to pre-emptively break up with her so he can walk away having dumped her. Young love! Katie doesn’t even appear upset about it.

Keith and I watched I Dood It last night. I don’t know what to say about this movie except that it has some of the wildest stuff imaginable in it with interminably long spells of not much happening. The song by the Jimmy Dorsey band and the Eleanor Powell rope dance at the beginning was enough to make my eyes pop out. Anyway, it stars Red Skelton and guests Lena Horne and Butterfly McQueen and the INCOMPARABLE Hazel Scott – her guest bit had my jaw on the floor – what an A MA ZING ivory tickler she was. (Dr. Filk wandered in just before that started and HE was pretty gobsmacked too). Oh, and there’s one piece of physical comedy (Red Skelton trying to get a passed out Eleanor Powell, who appears to be shapely string stuffed into a wedding dress, from the floor to a bed) that was so funny I ran out of air.

If I appear cheerful at the moment, it’s partly because I have a happy secret! I will tell you if you ask me nice, but I can’t post it publicly.

 

Why would somebody ask for ‘more ranting’?

Tonight I would like to rant about the lack of menstruation rituals in our culture. Tonight I’m going to take the man’s view, as the woman’s view about it isn’t nearly transgressive enough for me ce soir la. Jeez, where’s an accent grave when I need one…
If I was a man, I would want rituals and predictive patterns in young women’s lives that preserved their fertility for their true purpose, namely, making babies with me and not with other men. Having some kind of ceremony where it was drilled into the girl’s head that she had one shot at the childbearing game and if she slept with the wrong guy it was game the fuck over would be useful if my strategy for access to childbearing women meant I was employed and civil. Mind you, if my strategy is to just rape the shit out of her and hope for a lucky plug, it’s still better than if she was really trying to save it for the right guy. Her body may betray her and pop an egg for me. I’d be the ‘wrong guy’ – but I’d still be first. Now, the sperm competition theory of fucking, which holds that guys enjoy sharing girls because if you’re second (or later) you come way harder (your sperm will ‘wash away’ that of your, uh, competitor/buddy), so if you let your buddy go first, because you don’t really care if you get her pregnant, and you’d prefer to come harder because of your wiring, you’ve more or less dropped out of the discussion about breeding. You’ve actually given some consideration to the notion, which is why you’re wearing a condom while all of these shenanigans are going on. I mean, it’s still rape, but there’s a different angle. You get it now? All different styles of thinking about ‘the breeding thing’ lead to different results in terms of how it affects the woman’s life. Oh, sorry, I’ve gone back into the women’s way of thinking about this, ‘scuse me all to hell.

So mOm, did I make you laugh really hard on the phone tonight, or what?

Back to the subject at hand. Women should have menstruation rites so that they actually have two whole chunks of time to think about fertility without having to do any work. That is, in part, what rituals are all about. It’s about the whole “stop working and start thinking” thing that has made humanity what it is. Having enough excess capacity in your life to be able to stop and think is what makes for civil life. Having the spare time to develop morality makes morality. Leisure, in short, makes ethical life possible. But don’t worry, in the end it’s all about sex. Yeehaw. Hurry hurry love.
Did I ever say why it was I refer to my mother as mOm? It’s because when I spell her title that way, it is the “Kilroy was here” or “Clem” sign. See his hands, on either side of his head? Te he. But I also do it because of where I got the idea of it, pOp – which is a clown face with a big nose in the middle. Squint and you’ll see.

October 4 2008 – no post

Nepalese food, a change in venue, a beautiful sunset – Oct 4 2009

I got off the plane and went straight to Jan and Soon’s.  Jan blinked at me and said, “Weren’t you supposed to phone me?”

uh.

I had forgotten how beautiful the underlit sunsets are in this town.

Anyway, life in her household was sufficient for a cuppa, but not really for crash space, as she had hella work to do (I still hung out and we flapped our ears for a couple of hours and she had lots of news, good bad and odd).

So I called Catherine, and we had a very pleasant evening catching up (oooo, gossip about exes, I loves me some of that!) and eating at the Mt. Everest which has berloody awesome food and I had my first Kingfisher in ages.  Then we came back here and shot some more s*(t and then I crashed.  The wireless here works very nicely.  At some point I’m going to ask Catherine for another drum solo.  She has a really intense Chinese cymbal that sounds like part of the soundtrack for The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires.

While ScaryClown was sending me a link to This I was showing Colin a picture of him stretched out on HP Lovecraft’s cenotaph.

Ain’t the internet grand?

 

 

a quick wander ’round the web

My morning starts with the following sites:

boingboing.net

From which we get a timelapse video of an airport.

cnn.com

From which I learn very little, but once in a while there’s something I follow up on.

digg.com

I find some of the best stuff I repost there

eurekalert.org

A brain expansion device.  Almost all the technical ideas for my novel, including that George’s skin is made of a sandwich of carbene and two other materials which we don’t currently understand, except one of them seems to be a nested molecular spring assembly.

facebook.com

Hey, I just this week reconnected with the glorious Janet, who saved my ass, Paul’s ass, and the ass of the children MANY times when we were living in Montréal.  It’s one thing facebook is very good for, and if I could talk my mother into joining she’d never get any ****ing family history done she would be so busy reconnecting with rellies.

fark.com

John  came home one time from Value Village with a Fark tshirt for me.  Long term fans of this blog will recollect I actually met Drew at a Vancouver Fark Party (Keith in tow).  I love him, as an idea and as a person.  ALSO, IT WAS THE ONE SPORTS BAR IN VANCOUVER I EVER WENT TO WHERE THE  ASPECT RATIO WAS SET CORRECTLY ON **EVERY**SINGLE**TV**  So really it was a lot like getting struck by lightning, while drinking with a crowd of new friends.

gawker.com

Cause I like gossip, yo.

io9.com

Where I get my sf media fix.

jezebel.com

The snarkiest and most hypocritical site on the net, viz feminism.  Really feministing.com is better, but I keep getting lost in the comments thread.

lifehacker.com

Good info and hucksterism jostling for clickspace

livejournal.com

Most of the filkers I know are on it.

news1130.com

Local news which I grab and repost for local peeps on facebook

popurls.com

ERMA GERD.  So much links, so much clickyness

rawstory.com

I’ve been following them since they were a little breathless puppy of a newssite

reddit.com

Nicer than 4chan, worse than cleaning out a pedophile’s garage.  A black hole for time, energy and the will to live.

slashdot.org

Most of the time I don’t understand the links, but it’s educational when I do

thedailybeast.com

Self-indulgent and unclear as to its audience, but I find original reporting in there which makes it worth it.

twitter.com

How terse can I be?  It’s a puzzle

and I often make sidetrips to

freethoughtblogs.com/pharyngula/

Very happy to see PZ Myers has unequivocally opposed Richard Dawkins on his fiat statement on the abortability of genetically non-normative fetuses. To posit that the correct moral stance is to abort the fetus is yet another vomit stain on Dawkins’ fratbro drunkard’s walk through the pubcrawl of contemporary ethics.

icanhazcheeseburger.com OH LOOK DOGE

visualnews.com PRETTY PICKCHURS

imdb.com

thecryptosphere.com/ – a site started by Lorraine Murphy, a local journo and online buddy.

 

 

 

2012 in review

Love each other while you can. If you can’t manage that, move back far enough so that you aren’t hurting yourself or other people.

The road to failure is lack of effort on a day to day basis, so figure out how much effort is required to keep some momentum, and then you’ll have success to look forward to. Don’t let a day go by without working towards a goal.  Or a goat, if you’re dyslexic.

Honesty is the best policy with yourself; it varies in usefulness as a policy with other people.

Heroes feel terrible the next day.  After the daring rescue, the paperwork.

Irony is a lousy trade for compassion.

The first person to a location usually leaves trash.  This is just as true on the internet as it is in a national park.

Aging gracefully is one third helping others, one third suiting yourself, and one third keeping your mouth shut.

If there is a worse event than the loss of a child or grandchild, I don’t want to experience that either.  I hope anybody who suffers the loss of a child comes to terms with their grief.

My life got better when I stopped believing I had a perfect memory.  Blogging / journal keeping helped.

When I think of the millions of people who grew up without the love and support of a family like mine, I’m filled with gratitude to my parents as well as the people who didn’t have those advantages and still didn’t turn out like jerks.

Asking why there are scumbags is like asking why there are mosquitoes.  They are part of the human ecosystem.  That said, don’t leave the things that attract scumbags into your life lying around your psychic yard.

retail therapy

I was having a crappy day. Then I thought, you know….. and I called and left a message for Ian and Lucile and my former mother in law; I spoke to Lois and Terry and Jan and my mostest favorite writing partner Dave, and I left a message for my oldest friend (46 years and counting) Bonnie. Then I went out and bought hair dye (as suggested by a friend to help with the job hunt, since yes I am facing age related discrimination, thanks for asking, and thank you Garnier Hair Colour Number 60 for a) still being available and b) being on deep discount so got TWO ya!) Then I bought long beans and garlic and I’m going to make a massive stir fry for dinner. Then I bought a new laptop because screw it I’m leaving Apple and going back to Windows and Simply Accounting for two seats (re church) and some resume software and got free antivirus. Having called many friends and having had a lovely chat and having taken action instead of sitting in my house and being a mook, the sun has come out. So there.