calamity

Oh man. That's amazing. Sand painting rendition of the German occupation of the Ukraine. And think about how it's so impermanent, can't last. A meditation right up there with a Tibetan monk's sand painting, but instead taking advantage of the impermanence to make it an "animation". Wild, that's great.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=518XP8prwZo&feature=player_embedded

It's like the idea of the conscious mind as being not an entity of itself, but a process dependent on the incoming data. So that the conscious mind is like a sand-painting- itself a meditation on impermanence, and not putting your foot in the same river twice.
The idea that everything that can exist is a process, not permanent. Everything is a verb and not a noun. Huh.
Even mountains turn into verbs when you look at 'em on a long enough scale. The youngest Scottish mountains were raised in the Paleogene period- 63-52 million years ago. But I was talking earlier today about how they appeared young, relative to other mountain ranges- less eroded. The Rocky Mountains had their most recent formation event 40 million years ago. What the fuck, 40 million years? Is that even a real number? And yet it's post-dinosaurs, that's in the Age of Mammals. How recent it was! How old!

I wrote to the dude about Global Warming, and I said that even after we kill off the whole planet the world'll still be around. I said, it wouldn't dissolve. But one day it will, won't it?

Everything's a process. A verb. I wonder if there's anything that's permanent.

Day one of working from home was a smashing success. I got to lounge on the couch in my wicked tank top (not wicked in the Boston sense, it actually says wicked and has a the evil stepmother from Snow White on a little patch) and comfy pants with my laptop and the dogs. I got three 'office days' worth of work done in a single day. I fielded a few calls. I chatted with coworkers on our internal office communicator.

But, why, you might ask, am I working from home? Well, my company can't plan anything properly. Anything at all.

My team (along with several other departments) are moving to a new building. We are among the first to go. Our official start in the new building was (note 'was') supposed to be Monday. So, we had to pack up all our stuff and be ready for the movers by the end of the day yesterday (and they would move everything today and set out phones, etc up over the weekend). We were only to take our laptops home to work from home today. Heaven forbid my team use today for an off site team building day (free food, etc) like some of the other teams did. Frankly, the entire week was a comical email string- they won't give us the new address because the street name is changing (but the number is the same and they know the old and new name, the sign just isn't up yet- so what gives), we got an email with our new phone extensions yet not the new external phone number, we had our pictures taken for our new badges yet we don't have the actual badges to get in to the new building, no one knows if our new desks have floor mats so we were told to label our floor mats and trash cans for the movers to take for us. Just one goofy thing after another- all in separate communications.

The catch- the Fire Marshall failed to sign the certificate of occupancy today for some unknown reason! They had us do all of this without a certificate of occupancy. And he can't come back to inspect the offending whatever until Monday. So we won't know until Monday if we can even come to work then. We are ALL indefinitely working from home since they already moved the furniture in and we can't go back to our old desks. All of this is happening while we are working on an extremely time sensitive project with a project manager who is poorly organized and none of us can understand face to face, never mind on the phone. Conference calls consist of struggling to be understood as he constantly cuts everyone off with words WE cannot understand while we all chatter back and forth on communicator conducting the ACTUAL business of what needs to be done. It is terrible.

But- I am home and comfy and get at least another day of it. We are all on our own little exile islands stranded without desks to return to, but office communicator to ridicule the heck out of the whole thing with each other.

I personally find the entire situation altogether more entertaining than I probably should be allowed to :)

FAVORITE MOVIES OF THE 1940s

Here is a LIST of my favorite movies from the 1940s.

• 18:51 It's amazing what a tasty thing a person can make with two packages of Oriental flavor ramen noodles and a leftover piece of spicy fish. #
• 19:35 I forget how great a Bond Pierce Brosnan was until I rewatch GOLDENEYE and see what was before they started screwing the movies like always. #
• 07:39 @TraceBeaulieu I'm a Junior and AARP has sent me membership offers since I turned 25. I'm only 37 now so you can see my confusion. #
• 08:01 @kelkelrenee Is there someone that would want to go with you and can buy the tickets while we are moving? #
• 11:43 @kristinmarta There is only so much you can do 2 help someone. It winds up being up to the person to want to change for the better. * hugs * #
• 11:55 Watching THE LAND THAT TIME FORGOT in HD just makes the hand puppet dinosaurs look even more silly than they normally do. #

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hi everyone,
I have a job intervew next week. Currently, I work in an inpatient psych unit at a major teaching hospital. The job for which I am interviewing is in a private pay, residential program at the same hospital.  I know the job requirements and the clientele, as well as how the SW fits into the treatment team.  It's been 10 years since I've had to interview for any type of job. Umm...help! What kinds of questions do I ask?  I know the basics about the job, and I want to go into this more prepared.
Any advice?

Hey y'all.  I'm J. Bradley, author of the new poetry collection Dodging Traffic (Ampersand Books).  I'll be in town this weekend doing some shows as part of the 8th Annual New Orleans Bookfair and to promote the book.  Here's where I'm gonna be.  Can't wait to meet y'all.

Saturday, November 7 @ 12:30 pm – The Apple Barrel (609 Frenchmen St).  This is where one of the two venues the 8th Annual New Orleans Bookfair is using for its readers.  I’m doing a set from 12:30pm to 12:50pm.  The readings start at noon and end at 6pm local time.

Saturday, November 7 @ 11pm – Neutral Ground Coffeehouse (5110 Danneel St). I’m doing a late night set out there for an hour.  This should be interesting.

Sunday, November 8 @ 5pm – Zeitgeist (1618 Oretha Castle Haley Blvd).  I’m doing a full set of poems from and not from Dodging Traffic.

You can find out more about me through my blog, Failure Loves Company, at iheartfailure.net
 

http://dilbert.com/blog/entry/the_cats_on_the_roof/

http://dilbert.com/blog/entry/376/

I saw in the news today that The United States is going to withdraw most of its military forces from Afghanistan. Okay, the news didn't say that in so many words. But they did say, "The cat is on the roof," which means the same thing.

Allow me to explain "The cat is on the roof" to those of you who are unfamiliar with the joke. It goes like this: Bob goes on vacation. He asks his moron brother to take care of his cat. After a few days on vacation, Bob calls to say hi. The moron brother blurts out "Your cat is dead."

Bob is beside himself with grief. And he chastises his moron brother for breaking the news to him in such an abrupt manner. The moron brother asks how he could have done it better.

Bob explains "Well, for example, you could have told me the cat was on the roof. The next time we talked, you could say the Fire Department is trying to get him down. The next time, you could say the cat fell during the rescue and was in the veterinarian hospital. The next time I called, you could say the cat succumbed to his injuries and passed away. That way I would be prepared for the bad news."

The moron brother says he understands. Then he adds, "Oh, by the way. Mom is on the roof."

With that in mind, I saw in the news that Prime Minister Gordon Brown is warning Karzai to clean up the corruption in the Afghan government or else Great Britain will withdraw its forces.

http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5gEBlJJibsvBmFQK5iQvBXDIIJRQAD9BQ3BQG0

That's the "cat is on the roof," as clear as I have ever seen it. Obviously Afghanistan isn't going to get rid of corruption. That gives Great Britain an honorable reason for withdrawing, which I assume they have already decided to do. Once that happens, Obama will be forced by public opinion to do the same, leaving behind some terrorist-hunting forces only.

We went out and walked in that wind last night. It is in nights like that, and in gazing up at the moon, and in the surge of storms, that I feel that sense of magic. Holding out my arms, eyes closed, that rush of wind feels like it runs through me and I am part of it.

And that, to me, is the wellspring of much of my belief. I believe that magic is our attuning with the world. My beliefs are as much related to quantum mechanics as they are to faith, because we keep learning, through science, things like observation changing the result of experimentation.

I believe that the forces of the universe that are beyond both macrocosmic and microcosmic can be accessed, and the way the human mind does so is by a sense of deity. Essentially, I think humans create godhood and, like the changes through observation, belief becomes a focus for the universal forces. I think of the forces in general as goddess/creator because it's an effective way for me to relate to them. I think the sheer power of belief can swirl some of that force into something more manifest, but it's like standing in Lake Erie and swirling your arm around to create a tiny whirlpool: you've affected the water right in front of you and made it do what you want, but the rest of the lake is too large for that effect to impact. And as soon as you stop concentrating that energy on the water before you it slips quickly back into common form of lake.

Some people go through life completely ignoring the force of the universe. Some people think of it as Capital G God and react to it passively in the form of praying to that force. It can impact the energy just like observation can impact an experiment, but the attitude is generally that the force is external.

Witches reach into the water and swirl those whirlpools up. Shaping deity from the force of the universe is creating a vortex in that water. Doing magic is reaching into that power.

Sometimes I can't focus the energy to manipulate it. But when I do, there is a moment when I can hear the pulse of the universe.

Sometimes, like last night, I don't have to manipulate it. I can just let it wash over me. That is blessing.

Watching Psycho on Netflix, I can see why Anthony Perkins had next to no career after it.

Thing is, everyone remembers Psycho for, well, the Psycho. The shower scene, the crazy killer, the OMG BLOOD. But watching it now, as someone would have in the 1950s, there's really no sense of menace about Norman Bates; we've already seen at least three people (the cop, the car salesman, the rowdy Texan who gives the money) who were crazier.

Norman's a strange little guy, but strangely charming. He wouldn't be out of place in a modern Indie film - the quirky habits of his taxidermy, his nervous stammer, his misplaced kindness, his lonely hotel. Actually, with a slight twist, he could be a likeable character in The Office. He's not a crazy guy for a lot of his performance, which is why the twist works - he's a nice guy, a hint of crazy, and then STABBITY STAB.

Which left poor Anthony Perkins in a horrible casting place. The studios wanted to cast him as an evil villain, but really he has little innate menace. Even when he's angry, he's strangely meek - which works for this film, but no other. And of course, after he became Hollywood's most famous killer, he couldn't be a leading man. So there he was, caught between extremes.

I feel bad for him. He was a good actor. He deserved a better career. But his breakout role placed him straight in the Kobayashi Maru.

I finally finished R's baby quilt, in time for her second winter at least! Here's a photo:




It's called Rebecca's Road. The path travels crazily all through the quilt, just like our paths in life. And in one place the path gets reversed, signifying that sometimes we make mistakes, but if we keep moving forward they will straighten themselves out. Her mother told me that I will have to tell her the story of the quilt when she is older. For now, it's lots of bright colors and fun things to find: mermaids and soccerballs and kittens and cowboys.

And the reason that got finished was because I had taken up making the altar cloth for yuki_onna and justbeast's wedding, and I felt too guilty to finish it without finishing the baby quilt first. Spurred on by deadlines, I also finished the altar cloth:



The fabrics were ones that Cat and I purchased before she went to Maine. She said she wanted me to teach her to quilt. Since she doesn't sew at all, I wanted to start with basic piecing; she wanted to start with abstract Russian iconography. We were making some progress, but then the move happened and the fabrics stayed here and since she already loved them were perfect to make into the altar cloth (with design help from bec76; thanks, love).

Now I am into contract crunch season, so no quilting for a while. Le sigh.

If you've ever attended a party at La Casa McJuddmetz, you'll know that people tend to congregate in the kitchen. So we're thinking of renovating. Specifically, we wish to tear down this wall:



We wouldn't remove it entirely, of course - what we want to do is take down the wall and create a counter at roughly waist height, wherein we could a) have a place for people to rest drinks on, b) open up this central area, and c) install some cabinets under the counter and get some more chopping/storage space for the kitchen.

What Gini is worried about is affecting the flow of our parties. When we play Rock Band - which is, admittedly, often - people go to the kitchen, which she thinks might be to get away from the noise. I think people go to the kitchen because it's the only other comfortable place to stand in our house - when we're rockin', the living room is full up on people, and unless you want to sit down at the dining room table or wedge yourself into the hallway by the door, your only other choice is the kitchen. Which, may I remind you, the wall facing the living room looks summat like this:



I think if we open up that area, we make a larger talking-to area - you could stand in the dining room and lean to talk to people in the kitchen, and I don't think the noise would be much of an issue. But if you've gotten this far, you've evidently been to one of our gatherings. What do you think of the idea?

Were lives lost? Of course. Were cities razed, flesh burned with poison gas, families slaughtered and children raped? Naturally. But one can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs, burning the crockery, setting the kitchen on fire, firebombing the restaurant and summarily executing the survivors.

For the record, I am extraordinarily happy with my shits and I'm finally starting to feel comfortable in my own skin. I actually have "too skinny pants" now. Pants that I bought when I was too goddamned skinny that I now have to lay down to zipper up. This is awesome and a half.

I feel moar attractive, healthier, and generally badasser than I have in years.

Something about not being fukken miserable all the time. It really makes a difference.

Who knew.

<3 <3 <3

On Sunday, November 22nd, I will be DMing for charity. That's right; I'll be running a roleplaying game down in Akron, and for a mere $20 ($25 at the door) you can not only give to children, but be a part of a mini-con that involves LAN parties, gaming, and Guitar Hero.

What will I be running? A Planescape game, of course! Here's a description:

Couched In Mystery: A Planescape Game
Morty the Dustman has a serious problem: he cannot die. He's tried everything from leaping off of the spires to mouthing off to tanar'ri, and nothing hurts him. The problem is that he's a member of Sigil's Dustmen faction - a sect that idolizes and fetishizes death. And in helping Morty solve his horrible un-murder, you will wander through the stranger nooks and crannies of Sigil, the city at the heart of the multiverse.... (D&D 3rd Edition, roughly) (5 players)

If you can't make it to the charity, you can help me in another way: on Saturday, November 21st, I'll be holding a Mystery Module runthrough of the game to make sure all runs smoothly. So if you're a local who wants to play some Planescape (and who doesn't?), let me know which you'll be attending. Either will help me, but I hope you all can come to Akron (or just give to Child's Play in their name).

As a secondary bit, I have not forgotten my commitment to the Monthy Magazine Review, but the wedding has sapped my ability to read short stories now. I will have it up later in the month, hopefully just before their Black Friday sale - for the magazine I shall be reviewing is GUD Magazine! W00t!

Im leaving for new orleans this morning (if my ride will ever get here!!! GRR) and I am wondering where I can find good oysters rockefeller for an affordable price. I ate some there a couple years ago but cant remember the name. and it wasnt a big expensive place.
Also looking for a goth club in the french quarter, or somewhere close . We are staying at the holiday inn french quarter.
Thanks!

Sunday morning: I can't even begin to describe the post-bachelor/ette party condition of my house. After 50 guests in the house, it looked like there'd been a frat party. We made some headway in picking up the recyclables and trash (thank you so much, tithenai, for all your help!) before we had to get ready and head out for the wedding site.

Monday morning: Ooooh, no, please don't ask me to clean!! Fortunately, we still had guests so we couldn't *possibly* clean when we still had to entertain.

Tuesday and Wednesday: Stabs at cleaning.

So here we are now:

Dining room: Baba Yaga and her house of chicken legs are snuggled up by a stuffed pony, all leaning crazily against a pile of 300 paper plates. The canvas bag of emergency supplies - sewing kit, band-aids, safety pins, etc. - is still waiting to be unpacked. Oh, and a gray bag with a camera lens. Anyone want to claim it?

Master Bedroom: Improbably, a fake mustache rests on the dresser. I can't quite explain that....

Guest Bedroom: We will daintily close the door upon the detritus of the Bride and her Beast.

Office: My dress and stuff, still in a trash bag on the floor. Oh, and a stray black shoe. Anyone want to claim it?

Family room: Other than the shifting of furniture, remarkably clean. s00j and company are very good at being vagabonds and respecting their space.

Sewing Room: Piles of taffeta are scattered everywhere. Scraps and threads all over the floor. A complete mess. But, Janice the seamstress did make up for her mess by leaving behind scissors, thread, needles, pins, and other stray bits.

Bathroom: Rumors that we now own a large black dog are completely untrue. Instead, it was a black Cat, who sheds. The number of hair products, face products, razors? Rather overwhelming. I assume they all belong to Cat and D, but if you left them behind? Not worth claiming.

The wedding I will write about soon. But I had to take a moment to memorialize the backstage parts of the experience. It will soon be cleaned up and forgotten if I don't, and it's dear to me.