I ran across this wonderful story called "There are things that are hidden from the eyes of the everyday" by Simon Sheppard, in Bending the Landscape: Fantasy
(edited by Nicola Griffith and Stephen Pagel). What I'm about to quote is a portion of the speech one of the characters makes at the end. I found it worth pondering.
"...this world is but a dance and we are merely dancers. Any meaning discovered in this dance, once grasped at, once written down on parchment, is doomed to vanish before our eyes. Thus mankind is fated to forever search for magic, and insofar as we search, we become that which we seek. True wisdom lies in knowing that the journey and the goal are one.
...For truth is not our joy, and truth is not our sorrow. It is merely a secret which we already know, though we may keep it hidden from ourselves. But we shall never taste of truth till we let ourselves become that which we are, and indeed always have been, from the moment of creation. Though we are not this flesh, yet our flesh is all we have in this world. And so from the center of your being, come join us in the sweetly whirling dance of life."
So anyway, I was going to go to the early morning Shabbat service this morning, but at the time when I would have had to get up to go, I was still awake. I decided G_d should forgive me for taking a day of rest. So I went to sleep until around 11:30, when stewicked
woke me up. (Admittedly, I had been hitting the snooze button by that point, but...
I get motivated with my morning Mountain Dew and cigarette fix. I am not a morning person. Well, I was debating on seeing Scooby-Doo
or Halloween: Resurection
this afternoon, but no one else wanted to go. I decided I'd head over to Lennox anyway, if only to book shop. I also figured I'd drop by on the Rodger monster and get the book back I loaned him. Well, I went to Barnes and Noble, where I ended up picking up Dark Ages Clan Novel Nosferatu
and the new Foxtrot
collection, since I need the entertainment anyway. This was a lot of fun, since bookstores are to me what a Roach Motel is to roaches. I go in, but it takes an act of G_d to get me back out. I found the perfect gift for Mom's birthday while I was there, so I'll head back over at the beginning of next month and pick it up. I also spent a few minutes at Target, trying to figure out if Jenni and Josh registered any gifts I would rather give them than cash for their wedding. (I know this sounds silly as hell, but I'd much rather give the married couple cash, since I know from my brother's wedding how much fun a wedding is on finances.)
I left Target and headed to Rodger's, since he lives a few blocks down King Ave. from the Lennox. Along the way, I had time to reflect on why we went bad. See, for me, Rodger gave me the reflection of how Evil Kris must have felt when we lived together. With Kris, I was all about the relationship, much the same way Rodger was with me. But when I was with Rodger, my feelings were not as intense for him as his were for me. It gave me a new perspective. And I figured there were a few good reasons why we parted ways. The lovely little friends he gave me being a primary one, but also my own lack of courage for not telling him the real reason I quit putting out. I had this whole thing figured out when I arrived on his doorstep and rang his bell. The bastard wasn't home to listen to me analyze the remnants.
So I walked back up King to Wendy's, where I began to think about the quote I started this post with. I think the quote is a reflection of Rumi and Sufism, but a few of the sentiments are strangly gnostic in flavour. I like gnostic thought to a degree, but ritual suicide and completely giving up any Worldly Pleasures doesn't appeal to me. This brought on my thoughts about the crusade against the gnositic heresies. (albeginsian, maybe? I don't have the big book of Heresy in front of me.) See, the thing is that the gnostics would have died out, if only for the lack of sex. However, the church had to stamp out heresy in all forms, or its hypocracy would have been revealed. Thus proving that Dubya is not the only stupid leader in history. And none of this has anything to do with Kevin Bacon.
I take the bus back to Campus, and hike my way to the new gaming store on Maynard & High, where I pick up the LARP Guide to the Camarilla
, which will hopefully allow me to find a few loopholes to get rid of the Harpy in the Thursday game. Oh wait, she's reading this. I mean, I'm trying to find ways to help her. Yeah that's it! Actually, the real reason I bought it was just to get updates on the new Revised rules, particularly since they have changed the way status works. And it was nice that the guy behind the counter was semi-flirtacious, and had the courtesy of asking me if I'd be interested in table-top Werewolf:the Apocalypse. Yeah, maybe, but the Werewolf rules are really annoying, and the only things I like with that much fur are men. And yes, I know my geek is showing. If you wanna know, go here.
So,I head home, where the roommates are having their version of a Mexican stand-off, ignoring each other.
And then I went to my nice 9 hours of tossing pizzas for a bunch of drunk assholes. Actually, tonight went fast, and we had the radio on WNCI Dance Party most of the night.
Um, as much fun as it was to hear some of the stuff, I had an In & Out
moment when they started playing a block of Drag Queen anthems. Notably Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive". I kept hearing the tape Kevin Kline listens to in the movie in my head. I had this horrible fear of letting my Inner Queen run loose while making pizzas. I'm out at work, but I do have this damn butch image to uphold, and "shaking my booty on the make floor" would cause unrepairable damage to my image. Of couse, they followed Ms. Gaynor with ABBA's "Dancing Queen", En Vouge's "Never Gonna Get It", Prince's "Rasberry Beret", and The Village People's "YMCA". I think some divine power was out to get me tonight. And I'd love to know why people thought it necessary to do new covers of Biz Markie's "You Got What I Need" and Bryan Adams's "Heaven". For that matter, I'm trying to figure out why Celine Dion sampled Blondie's "Heart of Glass". I'm now waiting for Puffy to cover Slick Rick's "Lick My Balls" or some other such nonsense. (Believe it or not, we actually were discussing this at work.) And I must admit that watching Steve dance to Vanilla Ice's "Ice Ice Baby" made it worth the cramps I have from working.
And readers, as always my commitment is to you. I turned down an invite to Northberg Tavern with my current at-work eye-candy to update you on the meaningless life I lead.