Happy Halloween

Inanities in the Health Insurance World #2

A person is quitting the group insurance to get individual right now. Getting the individual plan would save her $12 a month. It's the same EXACT friggin' plan.

Just because of this savings, the person will waste a bunch of administrator's time (NOT DOCTORS) just to save $144 a year. And this process will probably repeat itself next year, wasting more time and money.

What, you thought your insurance premiums was going to the doctors? Nah, it's going to feed this process/status quo. After all, this employee will probably go see a doctor twice next year. But in the meantime, they probably make at least $1k off her next year. Paying a couple of brokers fees and admin time will justify the profits.

But this is how the system works. Every year two or three major insurers in your area compete. And every year they switch off being the better deal. And every year your employer switches. It's the name of the game, baby.

Inanities in the Health Insurance World #1

A client's employee moves out of state to expand their business. The employee goes to a doctor about 3-4 times in the new state, making sure to visit a doctor that was under the company's carrier. Employee gets a bill for $3k.

Why? (Here comes the inane part)

Carrier considers anything out of state, including its own doctors, out of network and therefore nothing applies.

They generously have a visiting plan, but certain restrictions apply. You know how that goes. Anything that isn't an emergency/life & death situation, well too bad.

For those of you who don't get the inanity in this, umm, do we live in the UNITED States of America? How does going out of state constitute going out of the service area? We are AMERICANS. These states are OUR states. A comprehensive UNIVERSAL plan would pretty much eliminate this possibility, doncha think?

Bad Day

Ugh! Wish I could stop caring about work. Wish these thoughts weren't around. Wish this sudden headache would go away and wish the move was completed.


-- Posted From My iPhone

Tumultuously Happy Beginnings

Today was the final day of the most important class at the school, Final Project. Everything we've been going to school for, summed up in one thirty-second to two minute package. A demo reel. It's important! A visual resume; look what I can do. 

Our ideas, abilities and pieces of our lives wrapped up and delivered, today... at 10:00am... no... 10:15am? uh huh... instructor has yet to arrive come 10:30am. How delusional we all are, thinking that maybe we would put something forth that was worthwhile. Maybe there would be something to be excited about, to be moved by, to at least show up on time for.

The inability of key people to 'stick around' long enough to view everyone's work spoke volumes. One by one we laid our dreams at their feet. One by one they apologetically left the room. It's boring and redundant, but at the very least feigned interest would have been a better end to our school career.

I've been on the verge of several emotions, instead of choosing one, I'm experiencing them all at once. On the edge of extreme emotions. Petrified between two emotions. Excitement wrestling just behind my eyes with tears of sorrow. Paranoid stress holding prolonged discussions with flawless contentment. Maybe it's just me. Maybe it's the surge of true and utter passion to experience all emotions so extremely, all at once, you can't focus. Maybe it's the lack of sleep. Maybe it's my world mingling with reality, disorienting me. In either case, I am distracted, sensitive and tired. But it wasn't just me. I wasn't the only one hurt and for once I wasn't the only one to notice it.

I wonder if I should be thankful of the disinterest experienced. The school has always excused its odd hours, as preparation for the work environment. The key people have been around the school long enough to know what gets produced by it. They would know if it was worthwhile to stick around for the entire class' demo reels. Perhaps they were just preparing me for what it is really like to package my passion, and creativity and then peddle it out, asking busy people for thirty seconds of their time...

I am not so bitter, promise I'm still sweet. I'm happy and impressed with my first draft. I'm not going to let it bother me that other's don't necessarily see it worthwhile enough to spend forty seconds of their life with. Who am I to blame them, it's only a first draft and it's not like they have any reason to care specifically about me. The people that matter to me think it's trippy, interesting, amazing, and leaves them wanting to see more. Which is precisely what this trippy, interesting artist desires! 

Then occupied with the act of making art, I was unable to sleep, now I find myself unable to sleep, because I'm full of ideas with where to take this first draft, so that it'll become a second.

-> i wrote this June 26, 2008

R = 0, T = 1

I've been completely immersed in my own little world for a good while now. Making connections with shared realities has been somewhat of a stinging slap. I'm only starting to experience it as that perfectly placed bite on my ass... I am not yet able to handle large doses. I find myself having to come up for air more frequently. 

The interrupted moments of pollution are starting to leave their mark. Another scar of some other thought that defaced my fantasy. If only I could let myself be. As though there are two of me, the brilliant child, who's company is desired and who's paintings we proudly hang with flawless lighting. The other child, who just doesn't seem to measure up, and left miserably alone, finds solace in the attention their disruption creates. Eventually they'll heal. Time hasn't taken leave for me yet.

I surround myself by entertainers, and what a delightful one have I just created. He exemplifies nearly all the things I'm currently trying to achieve. I find myself studying him as we dream of flirtatiously trying to enact our planned method of manipulation, and write the story of what happens next. It's fun! I think about coming around more. Just to re-experience the brush that painted laughter, as he simulated pleasure while eating my candy. He's one of the few that keeps my hesitation locked up. Our shared reality is not that foreboding, maybe we were meant to meet at this juncture.

My journey to find peace within myself has granted me a teacher. I think mutually even, another perfect symbiotic relationship? I've been struggling with circular reasoning, and am still blocked by unfinished theories. For some reason everything fits to adjust what happened after that, and it's making my rationale a little woozy.

Distraction is dancing with me. Distraction's been dancing with me. I'm in an energetic performance, trying some how to stand still. Focus was my date, I wonder what happened to her... Why does Distraction's dance last so long?

I'm nervous about walking into yet another world. Composed of shared realities with people I don't even know, but we claim love because there's blood. Every time I go, I want to return immediately and yet, each visit grows. I can't pinpoint the culprit of my anxiety, and somehow replace it with reason... How foreign am I?

->I wrote this in June of last year (2008)

Drinking Koolaid

"If an employer fully funds your copays (as in it won't cost the employee any money to get medical services), why then the employees would see doctors all the time!"

This is being taught to a group of brokers right now. How this makes sense to these whiteys, I've no idea. Oh yes EVERY one can take time off ALL the time to get frivolous doctors visits. What world are these people on? Just cause someone else pays does NOT mean everyone will use it up. Sheesh!

Look folks just because YOU are assholes and will take full advantage doesn't mean everyone else are opportunists!


-- Posted From My iPhone

Poem - Insane and Wired

I want to thrive on the electricity of my muscles' anxiety

I wanna feel the sharp tongue of the ocean's lap 

I wanna practice immunity to gravity

I wanna live in the creativity of two minds 

You can see, when I'm dancing with the wind, that I'm not that planted

In that unstable way an animal encounters human, I'm in a dream

being kept alive by the finest string, continually rubbed bare

The one they finger for entertainment

Shall I light the fire that turns you on and turns you up

I'm easy, been craving you... you with the advantage

There's no resistance left when you put that smile on my lips

I'm seduced, pleased by the playful hold tickling my brain

Tuned to you, my mind is powerless, there's nothing we can do

Chemicals, cells and receptors aided and abetted

as, my senses distracted, allowed happiness to paint the village red

What's a gal to do? It's easy to get addicted to you

Poem - Inspections, Detections, Neglections and Selections

My fingers are stained, covered in the sticky essence I've begun to crave.

My mind was painted long before my tongue finished its caress.

My skin is tortured by the anticipation of attention.

My eyes ignore boundaries and stare.

You in green, I'm full of verve.

You are a secret, only my smile knows.

You paint a dream, I'm addicted.

You are forbidden, only my temptation grows.

They won't understand... manipulation.

They stalk upon enlightenment... judgement.

They parade in grey... modification.

They don't exist... joy.

Nature Hobbling

We weren't up for crowds or company today so instead we hobbled (Bratworse has this hugeass blister which popped right on the ball of her foot) through Tilden Park's Botanical gardens.

Here are the results:






















-- Posted From My iPhone

Nature Walks

Bratworse and I have been taking walks around the neighborhood recently. See, we'll be going on a trip soon that requires a ton of walking so I've been a tad fearful I wouldn't be able to keep up.

To help motivate me to go on these walks, I've been taking photos with my camera. Photos that are designed to help inspire Bratworse's paintings.

I present my neighborhood and Oakland Zoo's flora!


















-- Posted From My iPhone

Inundation

Is this even a word? I am so going to be blogging more now. Just to start off, here are a few photos for your enjoyment:



Bratworse showing off her new shamrock confectionery.





Bratworse being surprised by me when she was watering her real shamrocks that she's growing.

More to come!

Wheeeeeeeeee!

-- Posted From My iPhone

iPhone Blogging

I'm trying out a new app to help me blog more. Can you tell I'm blogging from the bed? That's Bratworse asleep beside me. Heeee


-- Posted From My iPhone

Random Word Compilations

It's the land of a thousand eyes. Each one with it's own dream. Like the interrogation's bright light, they apply the pressure of sight. They have their secret code. The one they dangle just out of my understanding. Playing true to my curiosity, they tantalize me with what could be. I'm their puppet with no strings. Not merely a blind bird that never sings. 

Not for one, for there are two. The tights are torn. Lacie strands straining to get away. Knights run by too quickly. Their hold never firm. Leaves them slipping.

"I thought of you." said the monkey to the shoe as she rubbed a banana between her toes. Saying nothing, the shoe just stared. Oblivious or ignorant of what the monkey just reveled. Lost in fantasies of the great rocky mountain outdoors, littered with the sugary sweets of its favorite candies. The ones that are so good they're guarded by armies of bears. Having been ignored the Monkey juts its banana covered toe into the shoe's ear, "hey, did you hear my confession?" The shoe indeed had not. It was busy flirting with the bears trying to get a taste of that candy. It certainly had, however, felt the moist stringy gooeyness of the monkey's wiggling toe. Which having entered the dimension of touch, brought the shoe rushing back and away from the bear that was licking her ear. Quickly reactivating that part of the brain that had some inkling as to what was going on, the shoe covered, "The bananas not lasting that long?" At this the monkey laughed and began suckling her toe.

Poem - Lucid Simulated Dreams

There's magic, a fantasy painted true

With vibrant colors of a soft hue

Visually stimulating, even with quirks

My mind simulates fireworks 

I hide my eye so you can't see

The craving and illusion of what could be

Get your fingers wet in the paint of my mind

Leaving your fingers stained, a fading memory

Reminders, with temptations of something savory 

Away from you, I plot and scheme

When next, we will together dream?

Wondering After All

What are Savants?

They're people who can do ingenious things. They're creativity knows no bounds. They are more then proficient in either art, music, mathematics, or memory. Tests have been run to compare the brain function of a Savant to an average person. The results showed that in the Savant the areas in our brain, that are associated with our creativity, were extremely active. In the average person's, the areas associated with creativity were only slightly active. The theory is that there is a switch in our brains that controls the thing that filters our creativity. Most people are born with this filter on. Savants, have the filter off and thus, are able to use or have access to their creativity or ingenious. 

Evolution theorizes that we survive based off of adaptation. Our ability to adapt is relative to our ability to survive.

If we believe in evolution, how might it explain Savants? Savants are clearly the most ingenious of us. If there are less and less Savants, then we are not evolving in that direction. In fact, we are evolving in the opposite direction. Why would we evolve away from Savant-hood? Are we just a simulation that was given this parameter to keep us in check? How does turning off or ingenuity aid in survival? Is it a result of becoming "civilized?" What does evolving toward stupidity say about what we're doing?

I can see evidence of how we're evolving away from it. We use drugs and technology to compensate for our deficiencies. Plus educated people don't procreate so readily. I really wonder what it means for us... 

What is Pangaea, really?

One large land mass, surrounded by a vast ocean, that through plate tectonics/ continental drift, was separated into the continents we know today.

The expanding sphere makes me curious. What if the Earth is more similar to this sphere? It started out small, covered completely in land mass. As the planet expands the land would be pulled apart, also creating the continents. If that is what is going on with this planet, the theories of relativity and force need to be reworked. If the Earth is expanding, is it all just a simulation?

I think I've heard something about an expanding universe, maybe it's the same concept?

Free Will, just a delusion 'cause we're a simulation?

I don't think we have free will to an extent. I mean, I'm not saying that there's such a thing as fate either. But honestly, I wouldn't act out of character for Bratworse, so does that mean I don't possess free will? Bratworse acts like this, thefore I'm going to act in this way.

Maybe it's connected to that transmitter theory? That we don't die, just the tuner that was tuned into our frequency ran dry. I was tuned into Maria Katsyannis in a former life and was 'forced' to act according to what Maria would do. Now I'm Bratworse, and still searching for my free will.

Poem - Embarrassing

"Love moves me like a tornado.

Devastating my world without warning.

And there's never a thing I can do.

I'm head over heels, as the debris begins settling.

Love is so Embarrassing!!!

I'm this awkward and uncomfortable thing."

posted this May 06, 2008... 

(cream o' wheat's  birthday)

Entertaining Guests

A door has been opened, a house that has been there for a long time, but closed has offered to open its door. The neighborhood has awakened. First on the scene is excitement, she's young, naive, she sees pleasure in everything. Hardly thinking past what she can see. I'm overjoyed to be in her company, blinded by the same rose tint of her glasses. We picnic together in the beautiful paintings of excitement's reverie. She's adorable and cute, but young and I long for company, that doesn't blind me with their view. 

Second to arrive, motivation. She's as alluring as ever. The soft words that emit from the sensual line of her body, coax me to dance. Drawing myself from the picnic, I relish the feel of her hand in mine, as she brings me to my feet. She guides my hand around her waist and pulls me so close my breathing syncs with her's, having confused signals. I swoon internally, cherishing our closeness as we begin to dance. I'll succumb to her. I want her. She knows it. She has a tight grip on my hand and she's not planning on letting go easily.

With a party like ours we're bound to attract attention. Our greasy friend paranoia. I keep him around, because a masochistic part of me enjoys his perspective. He puts a spin on things in ways that put me on edge, and make me feel alive with 'what if'. He makes life tense and interesting. 

He cuts in, directing the graceful dance to a stumbling dark encumbered alleyway. He likes the dark. Prefers it. He says, it's where imagination lives when we get older. That's why it's so hard to find, we don't have time to go exploring dark alleyways littered with junk we can't see. 

He knows me well. Perhaps better then motivation, either that or he's always 'on.' Preparing myself for his strike, I focus on the feel of motivation's body pressing the cloth of my shirt against the skin of my back as her breasts and stomach mold the curve of my spine. I follow her arms that are around my waist, as she hugs me from behind, and am happy she hasn't run. He looks around nervously before striking deep, assuring he's got my attention,

"What if you're feelings are unrequited?"

-------------------------------------------------

The last few days, Oatmeal has been traversing the lands of my mind. With each passing time, a growing curiosity stimulates old memories, motivating me to act. 

When she leaves my mind, I find myself entertaining wonder. Whom entered by enticing my eye with a glimpse. Her body inaudibly raised questions. Is there something in my life going on that's attracting her? Is she thinking about me, so strongly it's palpable within my own head? Did something happen? What is she doing in my head? Imagination steps in and the subject morphs into possibilities of mind connections on that level. 

Can the electric impulses that are my thought of you, find the station you're tuned into mentally and project myself in your head?

I want to call Oatmeal and bring her out of my fantasy and into my reality. I don't have her number. The people that I thought might, don't have it. One of them, Card Shark, even tried to covertly talk me out of even trying to contact Oatmeal. It's become surreal. And yet, I still want to hear her voice. 

In trying to find Oatmeal's phone number, I stumbled across some of my old journals. Distraction growled hungrily as I read the scripts to memories I had forgotten. 

This was written May 05, 2008...

Poem - What the F' was I thinking?

Like a dream, my imagination builds a place for you.

Once let in, you take ahold and seldom leave.

You become an addiction.

A dopamine, receptors built to perfectly fit you.

I crave you.

Seeking you out, I quake with repressed excitement.

You are the secret thrill that fills in the holes of me.

Connecting with you, I breathe you in and am captivated.

With every moment, you finger a different part of me.

My skin crawls with life, tingling.

You heat the world around me, producing energy to tempt and tease me.

My mind is transfixed.

Coaxed by you.

Breaking the surface, erotic thoughts learn to swim.

Afternoons and Coffeespoons

The sun is ablaze and the sky is that calming grayish blue, it looks peaceful and serene. A painted portrait of happiness. It's like a reflection of how I'm feeling. So far, today has been unfolding so perfectly that it's a pleasure to experience. What balance of chemicals and brain activity do I need to sustain to perpetuate days like this?

This morning I was still wrestling with sleep when I slinked out of bed. I struggled through my exercises, my muscles were arguing for an undeserved break. Even my joints where taking sides. When I began my cardio, I twisted my ankle, but I 'walked it off' and trudged on, to get through my entire exercise routiene. With how much resistance a good portion of myself was putting up, I can sit back now and congratulate myself on this little accomplishment. It's good to be motivated!

Panic was roused in me at the presentation of curiosity, and it built a roller coaster that I couldn't resist. Promising to be as thrilling, exciting and sickening as any truly fun roller coaster, it lived up and for a change I rode it well. Stepping off only a little shaky.

The little furry creatures that roam about, caused a huge mess to probably the only area in the house that hasn't been soiled. I just stared at it. The mess, not the cute furry creature that caused it. Hey... how did they know I was in the mood to clean?

I don't know what makes today different. Why I'm able to cope with these things and still keep up that the day has been beautifully perfect? Whatever balance I've found, I hope I don't tire too quickly and lose it.

Feeling in such a great space, I dove off the board and with little expectation I spoke with Thirty-two. It's the first time in a long time, that I haven't internally grown sick with myself after stepping into her life for a moment. It was good. Today is good. A lot of things need to be done, and I'm going to have to face another ten hour day tomorrow, but right now, I'm at peace with myself. I completed my exercise, overpowering the stubborn masses! I've got a good hold on the door of doubt, and am able to enjoy the day. Passion has emerged and I am happy with writing, but not just the writing...

The Magician in Me

I was doing well today. Not bound to my own interpretation of that magic trick, "The Spinning Wheel of Death." The one where they've tied a volunteer to a wheel and spin it while the magician, blindfolded, encourages daggers to angrily soar through the air and exact their revenge or lesson upon the volunteer. Except in my "Spinning wheel of Death" I'm the volunteer, the dagger and the blind magician who's never done this trick.

I was maintaining a strong hold against the door of the magician. Who upon tuning in, was made aware of a surge in his fandom, and was currently thrashing against the door. It became something of the "Tell Tale Heart." The door, unintentionally tearing all of my muscles, almost as if the pounding upon it was the sound effect of my muscles exertions. 

Using my short little legs for support, I drew more strength and was able to keep the magician within, while life found the space around me, climbed on top of me increasing the pressure that had been fingering the breaking threads of my strength. It teasingly caressed my ear with its warm tongue, leaving a moist imprint of its alphabet, as it silently pleaded for me... to... 

let go.

It wasn't until the seduction became so overpowering, it was all I could smell, that my knees started to shake, the muscles within reduced to hanging threads, and I succumbed to my curiosity, letting the resistance subside, setting the magician free.

The force of the door opening lunged me off balance and on my back, drizzled in sweat, as if morning had just arrived and sprinkled me with dew and the sweet smell of blissful exertion. But there is no time for rest. With blazing wheels and gaudy fireworks, I'm mesmerized, hypnotized and forced to watch, as the show is revealed to me. 

I meld into it, becoming a puppet on a string, forcefully raising my hand to volunteer. Propelled by my puppet master, I am; all at once, dancing upon the stage.

The magician reveals my part in the trick, and before my puppet master or I can comprehend what was just shown, my senses are informing me that I've been captured with rope dyed red and am being affixed to the wheel.

Let's Pretend we Don't Exist

I wrote this April 18, 2008:

I dreamt about Oatmeal last night or this morning rather. Once there was a time when she roamed my mind and in such, was always near by. At least once a day she'd tap on my consciousness' door. It was as if my consciousness brought her to me, this morning though, it was consciousness' kiss that disrupted sleep's gift.

In the dream, I was at a party in a house filled by an ocean of people. I was in a room with someone who at first seemed to me to be Quatro, but as our actions progressed she transformed unrecognizably and I'm not sure who she ended up being, maybe herself again. She was professing attraction without opening her mouth. She was pleading for something more, with her eyes. Something inside me, was screaming "no," but was quickly replaced with a sinking feeling brought on by the soft crushing weight of her body as her lips graced mine. I broke free of her grasp and fled the room.

Leaving the warm sun of solitude, I was plunged into the cold pool of the party, swallowed by the waves of people who were in attendance. None of them mattered and they soon disappeared when I found Oatmeal sitting at the table. It wasn't until I was sitting in her lap that I noticed how incredibly there, she was. Like the sun being turned on, if it was connected to a switch, I was aglow with happiness. I just wanted to be close to her and amuse her. Other people in the room where vying for my attention, but she was the only one there to me.

It was pleasant to have been visited by her and spent a few moments in a dream wrapped in her arms.



Yesterday morning Tuki and I got into an argument. It's affect was me arriving two minutes late to class. I smiled some secret wicked smile as I entered the room to find my name written on a board, along with other names, creating a list of 'late students.' If my mood wasn't already set, this certainly changed it. I was humored by the act.

The instructor, none other then Mr. Compositor himself, that failed to enlighten us, last term about a program's automatic compression, must have been grinning wildly inside when I entered the room. He went through a three or five minute lecture on something. Something....

He ended it with, "But it's not very useful, since the projects you all are working on, aren't in groups."

More people trickled in after his lecture. Humpty Dumpty arrived nearly thirty minutes late, and was the fourth person to comment on my absence from the first day, "You missed the first day!" After many people scrambled to get their homework assignment printed out, Mr. Compositor decided it was time to collect it. Alphabetically I'm not the first listed, but I was certainly going to be the first called. So it was... I went up presented the assignment and then turned and left, as he read the lines on the back of his eyelids, "Looking forward to seeing it." I made sure Jack Frost was watching at me, as I walked back to my seat, I provided her with some entertainment, that sent her laughing wildly and me out of the room.

Lunch was weird. I talked Dexter into joining, Doof, Humpty Dumpty, Vomit Bag, Stinky and I, for lunch. There was conversation, but I didn't retain any of it. Like the whole day, I was there, but I wasn't and being there was weird.

Then there was Geometry. I'm going to call the instructor Mini Skirt, that's what she was wearing. I took a little pick me up before the class, and couldn't stop myself from staring at the bottom of her short tight skirt. She had on an off the shoulder stripped shirt and a black ultra mini, mini skirt with black tights. If her ass was a little flatter the skirt may have been able to cover it.

My mind wasn't on her, though my eyes had trouble leaving, and I floated through the class in my own thoughts of other people in other situations, having other lives, probably not thinking of me.

Today, I wonder about Oatmeal.

It's now June 16, 2009.  This was the second entry in my livejournal.  I don't keep a livejournal any more, for a lot of reasons.  One of them is this post.  When I wrote the line about Oatmeal, regarding how "incredibly there" she was, my frame of mind was to be spooky.  I knew it was all just a dream...   

I thought it was all just a dream...  

 

Peaceful as a Hurricane Eye

April Showers. They're certainly present in my life. I have a leather bound journal full of puddles from the storms, past Aprils have wrought. A cleansing of one's life, brought about once a year (at least), that floods the wells that lead to the waters of my mind and wrecks havoc on the bridges and housing I've built.

Am I just a capsule, replicating nature? As time passes a new season begins while another ends. Some running so quickly that their whole existence elapses over the course of one day? Some occurring at least once a month, on their own revolution, like a little personified planet bullying its way to the surface to drive for awhile.

It's easy for me to recognize when another has taken over. I'm outside myself watching, screaming, and writhing in an attempt to make it stop, but the driver doesn't listen to backseat drivers and mockingly increases in acceleration until I'm silenced and blinded by a cage of wind, captured just outside their world.

Find the door to this world and you'll see illusions, cross the bridge over that rushing river to another house where there are snow capped mountains and everything looks a little off, but almost real, it fails in comparison and isn't much to look at. There are many little houses, little worlds and within each little world, a little me resides, quietly waiting for their turn to drive.

With this April's shower a few houses were built, other worlds created. My life in one world is a faery tale, where I'm the jealous, angry, bitter witch, making demands upon the one who cast love's spell upon me and I her. I keep her locked up in a cage of misery perpetuated by varying doses of inadequacy. When she screams for it to stop, I laugh in her face and demand a recounting of what she's done for me lately.
Why do I marinate in anger and irritations, that are spiced by my own tired and loneliness?

That house has been slightly razed. Another house built on top, but it is still under construction and difficult to define with a language that is not mine.

It is peaceful here. There is love and happiness littering the saturated grass in the form of little crystals, reflecting the brilliancy of the color spectrum. I lie in the dew, imagining a world for two, with a white knuckled grasp upon my dreams. It is doubt that teasingly runs by and paints my knuckles white. For even though I try to show my love this world, I can not see through her eyes, nor have I figured out how to give her mine.

Still Married After All These Months

CA Supreme Court upheld Prop 8, but ruled that gays who married before the vote are still legally married.

Ugh.

Selling a Sofa

Look at me, aren't I spiffy-looking? I'm a three-seater, reclining sofa and I've been in this home for about 6 months. Before that I lived in a warehouse. This couple that allows me to live in their living room is nice to me, but I'm looking for people who can keep me warm better. My current owners are rather small to me and they don't cover up much of me when they're sitting or lying on top of me.

I'm house-trained AND I clean up really well when there are spills on me. Not only that, but I come in three parts so you will have an easier time moving me from my present location to my future one.

I'm looking for a house that has a good tv in front of it, cause I really like to kick back, you know (see 2nd picture)? Won't you come and take me off this nice couple's hands?

I've heard that they'll even listen to an offer lower than $500. Try them! They're between the Grand Lake Theatre and Piedmont Ave, just off the fwy. See how easy and convenient it is? (Oh, the email is theirs, not mine. I have a hard time typing.)

keywords: sofa, couch, lounge, recliner, recline, ottoman, oakland, inexpensive, cheap, good buy, leather, comfortable, soft, divan, grand lake, piedmont, comfy, 420, 42.

(This is an ad I just put up on Craigslist. Think the sofa will sell?)

Breathing Easier

Sooooo close now. Papers are signed and guess what the cosmic joke is? Our final resting place for our new loan is at Citimortgage again.

Bah! But oh well, after this, life should get back to some sense of normalcy from us. So glad I don't have to worry about the company I work for being taken over, or being laid off, or having my house worth more than my loan.

Reason Why I Support Unions

I've never been in a union (worker's union that is) but my sister has been part of the L.A. Teacher's Union since the 80s. One day, my dad and I were at the dinner table when my sister walked up. I asked her if she was about to go on strike (this was YEARS ago, at least eight) and she nodded yes. On a sudden whim, I turned to my father and asked him what he thought about unions.

My father was very curt if he spoke in English. Part of it is that his English just wasn't good. Part of it was just his nature. He didn't waste words if he had to - a good explanation for why we didn't really communicate. I talked too much and I could never get enough out of him so why bother. I do wonder if he ever thought about how everything about him and I were about missed opportunities.

Anyway, this marked one of the rare times I asked my father his opinion. Since this more concerned Ka, my sis (Ka is my nickname for her) I had no qualms about asking him his opinion. Usually if my dad shared his thoughts, it seemed (to me) to signify disapproval.

This exchange certainly proved no different. He signified his disapproval by grunting. (Oh Jeeze! I'm grunting like him now!) Both my sister and I turned to him in surprise. Since this was my sister, we had both expected him to be proud of her. (My sister was always my dad's princess but I shared his love of gadgetry plus I felt so guilty over my mom's overt preference of me I never minded her place with him.)

Dad just shrugged at us and said, "I'm management."

By the way, I loved how succinct my dad always were. With those two words, he explained where his stance was, why his stance was his stance, and why he never spoke about her being in the union and about to go on strike. My sister was about to explain to him where her position when she too realized just how vast his gesture of silence was. She just nodded at him and the subject of unions was never again brought up in his presence.

All this doesn't explain why I support unions but just gives a bit of family background.

The reason I support unions boils down to this: one day, I may be in a position to need a union and you know something? I want them to fight for me.

Almost forgot: the relevancy of this post? FedEx has just threatened to NOT buy US planes because of the possible passage of laws that make organizing easier.

They basically like being the behemoth to the sole worker.

Wrote Congresswoman Lee

Wrote Congresswoman Lee a long letter regarding my loan. Now to write Senators Boxer and Feinstein (though I expect a lot less from those two). Had to do something. Was getting too pissed about the entire thing

Bratworse and I did some redecorating this past weekend for Black-Eye Pea.

I really liked the way we did our design this time.

CitiMortgage

Remember that at the beginning of March, I asked Citimortgage aka Shittimortgage to correct what THEY had sent in to the credit bureaus? Okay, to refresh your memory, 2-1/2 years ago, we got into a dispute with Shittimortgage. We had thought we made all our payments that year but due to changing banks and whatnot, we had actually missed a payment.

We got into a dispute with them, then realized our mistake, made the payments and lo and behold, we are NOT IN DEFAULT with them.

So along comes this blurb on our credit reports that we got into a dispute. Well, I asked Citibank ... ahem Shittibank to take the dispute off the records and they said, okay, all you have to do is write us. So I did.

And what did I get in the mail today, 20 days after I had written them?

A letter DATED March 2, 2009 that was MAILED OUT on the 23rd that informed me, sorry, Shittimortgage won't remove the dispute but if I wanted to, I could contact the credit bureaus.

FUCK YOU SHITIBANK! FUCK YOU SHITTIMORTGAGE.

Thanks for delaying my loan two weeks! Thanks for making me PAY MORE INTEREST to these firms that I have high interest rates from. GODS I didn't think anyone could make me hate more than insurance companies but the banks are SURE competing for this hatred!

BAH!

Playing Games with Strangers on Facebook

Some of you know that I've gotten heavily into Facebook recently.

I'm connecting with old friends, some from my childhood, some from my early career jobs and well basically from all walks of life. (When I start to think about all my friends who DON'T Facebook, it really starts astounding me just how many people I've connected with in the course of my life.)

However, what I've come to realize it, I'm enjoying playing with strangers rather than my friends/acquaintances. Friends complain when you send them invitation to new games. Strangers who signed up on forums to get their friendships up, don't mind the invites. They're the ones who WANT to try out new games and find the next fun thing on Facebook.

And so, my friends list consist of 400+ strangers, with about 150 friends/acquaintances. And out of those 400+ strangers, I get regular invitations from about 30 of them. They recognize that I have the power to block those applications if I don't want the notices anymore and so they invite, send with wild abandon.

And I am ever so grateful to them. From them, I'm finding out what the hottest latest games on Facebook is.

Above is SuperPoke! Pets. It's about the ONLY game I'm really playing with my friends. You go visit their pets and if you do, you both get rewarded. With this game, if they are your friend, you get to see their pet without any effort on your part (I think that's why I'm actually playing with friends.)

Other games, you actually have to invite them to join your mob/squad/zoo connection etc. Hence the motivation to play with strangers who have stated outright (by caring enough to write on a forum) that they want and like to play these types of games.

Update on the Loan

The appraisal we had gotten was missing some information so my broker gets in touch with the guy who did the appraisal. Turns out the poor man had a stroke and of course couldn't fill out the missing parts.

So NOW, we have to get a different appraiser, have them come to the house and inspect it and now, with prices falling so much between Jan. and now, I wonder if the places nearby are still selling for as much as it had been in Jan. (Shit, I'm getting stressed thinking about it.)

The loan is now pushed back to next week and well Tahoe's now out.

Our broker keeps saying, just borrow from your savings so you can afford Tahoe. You can pay it back later but doesn't he realize this is EXACTLY the attitude that got the U.S. economy in trouble. We will not borrow from our savings to pay for a vacation now.

Bah! I hope all bankers/loan officers/assholes get papercuts on their tongues and eat jalapenos afterwards.

An Exercise in Frustration for Getting a New Loan

Around December 16th or 17th, I talked to a mortgage broker about refinancing. Told him our situation: I have a condo, very little left in the mortgage, my wife has student loans about to be due and I have a ton of equity in the house. Adding it all up, the broker was ecstatic. This was a gimme. Our mortgage is about less than 1/7th of what our place is worth (I bought in 1993 and never refinanced), our school loans added the debt up to about just over half of the equity and I make about 1/4th of what our loan amount was going to be.

Should've been a cakewalk, right?

Well, now it's March 18th, exactly three months later and do we have the loan? No. Are we throwing good money into the ether by paying interest rates on loans we're planning on paying off with the new house loan? Yes.

Here's what happened with the first guy. Yes, I'm on my second broker and that was part of the problem but in a Karmic kind of way, we were blessed when we changed brokers.

In Jan. the first lender calls me up to say that we're locked in at a 5.5% interest rate. "Huh?" I asked, knowing that rates were about the 4.75 to 5% range. He convinces me that this is the absolute lowest we can go (This entire time, I distrusted what he was saying) then tells me what I need to do. I go ahead and do what is needed and then waited. And waited. And waited.

Two weeks after I was supposed to have gotten the loan docs, I called him up and asked what was going on. He replied that the association was slow in getting the paperwork to us. I asked why didn't he call me and enlisted my help since he knew the student loans were coming due and that I didn't want to pay interest on those loans. He just hemmed and hawed.

Two days later, he calls me up and says "Umm, trouble. Because your condo has a 29% tenant occupancy, this lender won't give you the loan. However! I can get you another loan."

I gave him until noon the next day to tell me there was a solution. He called me at 12:02 and tells me that there wasn't a solution, BUT he's working on it. I fired his ass and called up my senators to complain about the arbitrariness of assigning 25% tenant occupancy as a condition for giving out loans to OBVIOUSLY qualified individuals.

My new broker then gets me a 4.5% rate. This confirmed to me that first broker was full of shit.

Everything is chugging along decently when, due to a DISPUTE I STARTED 2-1/2 years ago, which OBVIOUSLY had been settled because the property didn't go into foreclosure and we are current with our payments, my credit reports get flagged and the loan stopped dead in its tracks. I call up my mortgage company, get them to rescind that little blurb in the credit reports and then find out that two of the three credit agencies DIDN'T remove the dispute notice.

So two credit agencies (Experian and Transunion) are holding my loan hostage due to the fact that they can't update credit reports in a timely manner.

My broker just called me up a day ago to say that the account manager at the lending co. has figured out how to bypass this little hurdle.

It turns out that Fannie Mae's underwriting program cares about these little items but Freddie Mac's underwriting program doesn't. (We're talking SOFTWARE programs here). And apparently even though HUMANS can see the dispute as something to be disregarded (for it makes no difference), software cannot be bypassed by humans. However, there was a debt to income ration that Freddie Mac cared about.

Someone had entered in the student loans as debts that still will be incurred AFTER we get the loan, so that made my debt skyhigh. It's now fixed and supposedly, I'm to get loan docs tomorrow or Friday.

You know, I'm not going to hold my breath. I should've just declared myself a bank holding company. Bah! Oh and if this loan doesn't come in, there goes our vacation in Tahoe next weekend.

Myth #5 and taking a break

Well, Chapters 1 and 2 of Myth #5 work. Chapter 3 totally falls apart. So, I shall be rewriting Chapter 3 tonight and working on Myth #6. I've decided on making Myths 5 days a week instead of 7 for after all, why was Sunday and weekends invented?

I would appreciate any feedback whatsover but since there's like two people reading this, I shan't expect any. Still, it would be nice, eh?

Rather Handsome Fellow

Bratworse was asked to do a small silhouette of a male and female for her internship. She's despairing because well she feels she has to do a bang-up job for this, this being her internship. Me, I hear the words "small" and "silhouette" and I'm thinking, oh, like anyone is going to be able to tell from a SMALL silhouette what gender it is.

So knowing that my honey's having a bad day (there's been a sad fairy visiting our house lately. One day, she'll decide that I'm to be the one that's sad. For the last couple of days it's been Bratworse. The sad fairy is welcome at our house, Goddhas know it's not welcome at most houses, but I do wish someone else would welcome it for a while. We want some happiness, some time) I helpingly suggested to her the following:

Me: <--- thinks you should get a silhouette of a monkey and use that since it'll be shrunk and no one can tell what it is
Bratworse: if they end up going with the sillhouette stuff, it won't be good that they came from the public.
Me: Well I think you can just take one from the public and manipulate it, and put a milk mustache on the guy's silhouette just in case people can't tell it's a guy since it'll be shrunk

So then I do some searching around the public and found the above picture and IM it to her.

BW: rofl
Me: I made my honey laugh?
Me: Really?
BW: Really really.
Me: *dances around pleased with herself*
Me: I thought that was a rather handsome fellow

And what do I get for all my troubles?

BW: it's a good thing you like girls

Myth #5

Twin Paradox

Chapter One
From the second Quiyus felt the orgasmic thrust of Majaks, the Goddha of Land, Air and Water inside Quiyus' still-female form, It knew this union would have physical consequences. And though Quiyus, the Goddha of Creation, Destruction and Maintenance had reverted back to a genderless form, within days the result of the coupling between the first Goddhas of the world showed.

The progeny inside Quiyus took well to being created and grew rapidly within. Quiyus' form contorted and stretched as It accommodated the somewhat parasitic growth inside It.

It was at this time, Majaks, still reeling from the impact of Its own transformation from dead human male to Its present actuality, disappeared to experiment with what It had been tasked with to be the Goddha of - the Land, the Air and the Water. Quiyus at first felt sympathetic with Majaks' predicament for it must be hard on anyone's psyche, much less one who now could move mountains with a shift of Its whimsy.

After three months though, Quiyus' patience wore down to frayed strands as the pregnancy seemed to have taken an accelerated turn and enlarged exponentially rather than linearly. Majaks was nowhere to be found and moving about was incredibly hard for a Goddha of Quiyus' present bulk. It needed help, Goddhadamnit.

But weeks dragged on and became months and still, Majaks stayed away. Majaks, in Its defense, actually had no idea that Quiyus was with child; It had just stayed away because It had reached a point with Quiyus where the mere presence of Quiyus would set off nearby earthquakes, sandstorms and other ill nature. It merely thought the separation would be a good thing for the world.

Yet as time strode past, the separation did more harm than good, for Quiyus' temper was by now fully foul. And as Goddha of Destruction, there was much that Quiyus could do to transfer the anger. To mollify Its feelings of abandonment, It created swarms of locusts and infestations of viruses but alas, the destruction caused by their presence didn't alleviate Its loneliness. To help assuage Its loneliness, It tasked the Angels and Demons to obey only Goddhas but as they became mindless and soulless creatures, Quiyus found their presence more and more intolerable as they were only capable of parroting back instructions.

Where Quiyus was, the world was a desolate place. And where Majaks was, the world was a wondrous paradise.
Chapter Two
After a while, Majaks felt keenly the difference between being a Goddha, and being a mortal. Being a Goddha meant that though It could appreciate all that was happening around It, to be a part of it took energy - energy that was better off spent in the maintenance of Its domain rather than the participation of it.

The loneliness as well as the feeling of alienation weighed heavily on Majaks and finally, It could not withstand the pressure and sought out Quiyus' company, the only other being in the world who might fathom what it was like to be this Other being. To Its surprise, It heard its own name being cursed, carried on the winds when the distance between It and Quiyus diminished with each of Its step.

Why would Quiyus be cursing Majaks? The last time Majaks saw Quiyus, It had been asleep in the after-bliss of their union. What could've have changed so much that instead of yelling out professions of love, Quiyus would be wishing Majak disease and pain?

The answer greeted Majaks as soon as It stepped upon the Land that Quiyus lay recumbent on. The enormous strips of deadened Land all led to one beginning, like spokes in a wheel. Quiyus had made sure all surrounding knew of Its displeasure and waves of anger and hatred and disgust emanated from where Quiyus was.

"Oh, Quiyus!" Majaks exclaimed the moment It beheld the burgeoning form. Majaks ran to Quiyus' side and scooped the pregnant Goddha into Its arms all the while whispering, "Oh Quiyus, I had no idea. Can you ever forgive me for staying away so long."

At first Quiyus struggled against Majaks' embrace screaming, 'No, I hate you! You abandoned me.. Us!" But as Majaks tightened Its clutch with each accusation, Quiyus' voice lost more and more venom. The screams of anger and hatred became sobs of anguish, loss and finally forgiveness.

Their tight embrace shifted into one of passion, absolution and desire as the two Goddhas finally celebrated what would be their joint creation.

As the final months of the pregnancy passed, the look about Quiyus had changed so remarkably that the Land churned in creativity and produced strands of desert that looked like someone painted it, and nearby shallow oceans burst forth with coral reefs of every color and size. Even the Air partook in Quiyus' and Majaks' joy which resulted in the Aurora Borealis.
Chapter Three
The world during this time of Quiyus' and Majaks' honeymoon saw unprecedented growth and stunning diversity. Often the creations were one-of-a-kind, like the phoenix or the unicorn, but sometimes, like in the unicorn's case, it found a way to replicate itself, but that's a story for another time. Both things under Quiyus' care and Majaks' care found ways to express these Goddha's exquisite delight in each other, made so much stronger by the separation and subsequent longing.

Too soon did this idyllic moment pass for before long, Quiyus felt the first birth pangs. Even for a Goddha, giving birth to another that will be an equal is a painful process. As Quiyus gave into the pain and allowed Itself to be split open, Majaks peered through the opening and witnessed not one but two heads emerging. "Quiyus, brace yourself. There's double trouble."

Majaks reached in and helped ease the twins emergence from Quiyus. Quiyus, near faint from the effort, asked to hold the infants but Majaks seemed reluctant to hand them over. "Remember that our union was one that had tumultous times, my love."

"And what is that supposed to mean, Majaks? Hand me my children."

Quiyus both heard and felt a snip as the umbillical cord was severed and into Its outstretched arms, a heavy bundle settled. Opening Its eyes, the Goddha of Creation, Destruction and Maintenance gazed upon Its firstborns.

The twins were cojoined, but where it was cojoined was impossible to pinpoint, for the joint seemed to rove all over both the twins bodies. At first, the twins were joined at the head, then the back, then one was joined at the buttock to the other's side, and so on. Entranced, Quiyus stared so blatantly until one of the twins spoke up, "Hey, Ma. You gonna feed us or what?" The other giggled and laughed and poked Its twin saying, "Shhh, It's trying to get used to us."

The first twin jabbed a thumb over at Majaks and said to Its twin, "That one's no better. It's gawking too. Think we're ever gonna be fed?"

"Urkthak! Be patient and have a little trust. Sheesh, how're you going to ever be in control of peace, war or communication without patience or trust?"

"Bah, Mujenvi. You really make me hate you sometimes, you know? Why, I ought to..." And with that, Urkthak swung around so that It was connected to Its twin by the front of Its torso but Mujenvi swung deftly away laughing Mujenvi was now connected to Urkthak by Its foot. Urkthak swung Its fists helplessly at Mujenvi before breaking into tears and Mujenvi quickly moved back around to comfort Urkthak.

During then entire episode, both Majaks and Quiyus watched with mouths agape and then when Mujenvi embraced Urkthak, the feeling of love overcame the entire family and the parents wrapped their arms around the children, who loved them back.

As Mujenvi and Urkthak slept after they had fed, Quiyus looked at Majaks and said, "Well, I guess it's decided then. Mujenvi's the Goddha of Love, Hate and Desire. I'm sure it was Mujenvi who helped us overcome our fascination with them."

Majaks nodded and said, "Urkthat was born from that period of time when I had left. We will have to be careful with that one... Trust does not seem to come easy to that one. Mujenvi was wise to have seen that Urkthat is to be the Goddha of Peace, War and Communications."

As both of them went to sleep in each other's arms, the same thought went through each others' heads. What does it mean that Love, Hate and Desire is tethered to Peace, War and Communication?

Myth #4

Two Goddhas are Better than One

Chapter One
Quiyus, the Goddha of Creation, Destruction and Maintenance distracted Itself from the unusual pairings by making sure no two insects were alike when It heard laughter in the distance. Interrupting Itself, Quiyus went to inspect the source of the laughter. Where Quiyus walked, one foot would leave destruction in its wake whereas the other foot would leave new creations in its footsteps.

The laughter that drew Quiyus was inviting, raucous and in a way, sexy. Quiyus felt Itself stirred in ways that It had never experienced prior to this moment and It wondered for a moment just what was being created here. Shrugging off the slightly disturbing thought, Quiyus followed the sound to a clearing in the forest and there, a male human knelt, hunched over an anthill.

Quiyus breathed in sharply for this male human took Its breath away. The man was poking at the anthill, obviously delighting in Quiyus' hard work in developing different varieties of insects. He was picking up one ant at a time, admiring the diversity that swarmed this one hill.

As Quiyus approached, It created an outer skin for Itself to reflect an object of the man's desire and thus, Quiyus changed into a woman. She stopped at a clear puddle to glance at Her own reflection and nodded. It was a good skin; Her creativity was serving her well.

At the sound of Her approach, the man turned and gasped at the vision before him. Quiyus was everything he didn't even realized he desired, and instantly, the man reflected his desire for Quiyus. A welcoming smile from Quiyus was all that the man needed as encouragement and he grasped at Quiyus' wrist, pulling Her to him.

For the next two months, the only creativity, destruction or maintenance that Quiyus engaged in, involved this man, whom Quiyus now named Majaks. Time stood still for these two, as they sensed, felt or thought of no one else but each other; but that was not the case for the rest of the world.

Without guidance from Quiyus, earthquakes devasted entire swaths of Land, volcanoes showed up under Water and out of the Air came fireballs and iceballs. Species were still inter-mingling with abandon, creating such creatures as fairies and brownies, centaurs and satyrs, minotaurs and giants. In short, the world seemed to be going through birth pangs and death throes at the same time.

Chapter Two
Quiyus and Majaks continued their lust/love affair with wild abandon until one morning, Quiyus and Majaks were jolted awake by an earthquake that devastated the surrounding Land. Quiyus leapt to Her feet with Goddha-like speed and whisked Herself to safety but Majaks was crushed under a toppling tree.

"Majaks, my love!" screamed Quiyus as She clutched at his dead body. Another shudder of the Land was Her response and it was then that She realized how neglectful of Her duties She had been. Had She been more mindful of maintenance, then Majaks would have survived.

Mad with grief and self-recriminations, Quiyus beat at her chest as her tears fell into the crevice created by the earthquake and became diamonds. With defiance at what She perceived as a Goddha's ill luck, She raised Her hands and lifted Her voice loudly proclaiming, "Majaks rise! Rise and become Goddha of that which caused your death. Rise and become my partner, my soul-mate, my Goddha of Land, Air and Water!"

And with that, Majaks stirred under the giant log which had crushed his mortal form, and transformed into a Goddha, one with a morphable form. The form Majaks took was pleasurable to Quiyus and immediately they fell to an embrace.

But their coupling took on a different energy and instead of neglectful, the energy produced by Quiyus' and Majaks twinning settled the seemingly seething anger that lived just under the surface of Land, Air and Water. Though Quiyus loved Majaks with all Its heart, Majaks had changed when he metamorphosized from a dead man to a live Goddha. There were times when Majaks could not look at Quiyus even in the middle of the most heated and passionate intercourse. But what could it be?

Could it be that Majaks resented that Quiyus was the Goddha who created It, and not the other way around? Could it be that Majaks resented being created whereas Quiyus Itself had been a transformed Goddha? Could it be that Majaks did not ask for the responsibility over Land, Air and Water? Whatever it was, Majaks would never tell Quiyus the truth, leading to many destructive times. But oh, when they did make up, what wondrous creations would come of their joint efforts.

For whatever its worth, the union between Quiyus and Majaks survived far longer than anyone would've guessed and that would have included their offsprings.

Myth #3

Why Takla Became Quiyus
or How Humans came About
Chapter One
The Goddha of Nothing, Something and Other, Takla looked around Itself and beheld Its creations before It, revelling in the sight, the joy, the sheer chaos that greeted Its being. But It sensed the chaos might undo all that It beheld and felt Itself begin to transform.


Reaching out with Its being, It left a bit of Itself inside Everything - all of the Somethings that existed and then It became Nothing itself. Takla was no more. It gave everything It had to Its creations and so, transformed Itself from the Godda of Nothing, Something and Other, into an Other Goddha.

Takla metamorphosized into Quiyus, the Goddha of Creation, Destruction & Maintenance.

Quiyus was indeed Other, for though the concept of three resided within Its form, the form instead reflected a binary nature. Quiyus, like most of Takla's creations, had two eyes, two ears, two nostrils, two arms and two legs. Takla was tricky for It hid that nature of three within solo items - the heart, the mouth and the brain of Quiyus.

Quiyus was in awe of Its now gone predecessor. And to celebrate/honor Takla's existence, Quiyus made Its first creation - a reflection of what Quiyus looked like. Three things came of Quiyus' homage: Humans who lived on the Land, Angels/Demons who lived in the Air, and Merpeople who lived in the Water.

The transformation of Takla from Something into Nothing into Other was complete. It was now fully Quiyus, the Goddha of Creation, Destruction and Maintenance.

Chapter Two
Quiyus explored what It was, for all this was new to It. It seemed to have a body that existed within time yet with exertion followed by exhaustion, It could move outside of time. It looked at Its own creations, the humans, the angels and demons, and the merpeople and saw that like Takla, Quiyus' own creative powers could take on a life of their own.

Everywhere Quiyus looked, It could see evidence of Its own genius. In the Angels and Demons, It saw perfect servants who'll work for It without question. The MerPeople were Its proof of being able to create wild people and Humans were the confirmation that they could be the perfect counter-balance to all that could possibly go wrong.

Why, in fact, the final perfect touch would be to make Creation an automated action. With a great flourish of Its arms, Quiyus declared, "Let there be PRO-Creation!" And with that declation, all the creatures of the world turned to each other and began the dance of life.

Turning to Takla's creations, Quiyus added detail and nuance to each and every one of them. Absorbed in Its own creative abilities, It failed to realized that things were getting quickly out of Its control. Everything Takla had created were attracted to everything else, and out of these strange pairings, creatures like the platypus were popping out of eggs!

A braying startled Quiyus out of Its concenctration. A horse was eyeing a donkey and the donkey was backing away, braying. As Quiyus realized what forces It had released with the creation of procreation, It moved to action.

Quickly, Quiyus released Its Destructive nature and out of the Waters came hurricanes battering the creatures out of their ardor, and out of the Land came volcanoes spewing lava in hopes of separating coupled beings and out of the sky came lighning bolts that sparked apart pairings. But still, the fervor of all the various beings could not be dampened.

With a sigh and a turn of Its head to avoid looking at the future, Quiyus handed a human his first spear.

Myth #2

How the Land, Air & Water Came About

Chapter 1

As Its first creation, the chicken flitted about Takla flapping and pecking, Takla the Goddha of Nothing, Something and Other, wondered if It should create Something more out of the Nothing that surrounded It and the chicken. But which Something should It create? Takla floated in the Nothingness consumed by this weighty question that seemed to beg a more dignified answer than what Its mind created for the first creature - the chicken.

Takla turned to the chicken and said, "For the honor and the punishment of being the first creature created, you will be a forever sought animal. Your males will be sought for the song they bring. Your flesh will appeal to all and your unborn's food will be made of a miracle slippery substance that all will want to consume as well."

Being pleased with Its pronouncement, Takla returned to Its ruminations and as the thoughts darted about from possibility to possibility, Nothing seemed to happen and Something took shape. The swirling emptiness tore into millions of little tiny pieces all about Takla and the chicken. Behind the millions of little bits of Nothing, Something else was happening. Larger pieces of Nothing were morphing into bigger pieces of Something. Some had gills, some had paws. Some had beaks, some fangs. Takla's imagination was having fun.

Even as Takla watched fascinated, the thoughts took on an Other life and took flight, taking their resemblance from the chicken but unlike the chicken was not an awkward flapping hopping creature but rather magnificent creatures that used their wings to swoop and soar and some creatures to flock together to create an Other illusion of being larger then they actually were.

Soon there was almost Something everywhere, and Takla frowned.

If Nothing disappeared, then wouldn't Its creatures be bored like It, for It has experienced unchange for eons?

Takla stopped the direction of Its earlier thoughts and tried to separate all the Somethings around but to no avail. What to do... what to do?

Chapter 2

Out of the Nothing that was between the Somethings, came something solid and something liquid and something gaseous.

Looking at the Something forming, Takla at once knew what to do. It commanded to the creatures that could flap its limbs, "Take to the Air but know that you need the Land to sleep on and the Water to be of sustenance."

Looking at the creatures who had gills and fins, Takla commanded them to "Take to the Water, but know that the Land is needed to contain the Water and the Air is needed however you may not realize you draw from it."

Speaking to the creatures who had neither wings nor fins, Takla commanded them to "Take to the Land, but know that the Air is needed for you to breathe and the Water is needed to sustain you."

Upon Its word... Nothing happened.

And Takla realized Its mistake. Nothing told the creatures what they were, so by calling them Something, they hadn't realized It was speaking to them.

Instead, Takla slashed through the Nothing towards the creatures that had wings and pointed to the Air.

It then slashed through the Nothing towards the creatures that had gills and pointed to the Water.

Lastly, It slashed through the Nothing towards the remaining creatures and pointed at the Land.

Of course, with such broad gestures, there would be a few overlaps, which is why there exists such things as squirrels that fly, frogs that glide, water snakes, birds that walk instead of fly. The creatures separated as gestured by Takla, onto and into the Land, Air and Water.

And Takla was pleased that he had managed to keep parts of Nothing still alive within the Somethings that now encompassed almost everything.

Explaining the Previous Post

I'm trying out a new story and it involves creating a whole new mythos. I've thrown together a few ideas and will be trying it out here so look for posts under The Myths. The first is a quick parable about how the Godda (that world's version of a God/Goddess) of Nothing, Something & Other creates a chicken out of nothing.

This will be the spark that ignites the other stories or in another metaphor, sets things in motion. I'm letting my muse run through me and I'm just letting her have fun. Bratworse is helping and creating with me, but I think the words will be mine. The ideas will be both, but the magic in delivery... that which I find so delicious. I get that. :)

Enjoy and let me know what you think. I'll be putting more up.

Oh, until I figure out how to put a sound file up, these will be quicktime audios without any picture. You guys don't need to see me blush.

Trying Out a New Story

Myth 1: The First Creation

In the beginning, there was Nothing and Takla felt empty. Would Nothing fill this emptiness, It thought for the first time as the emptiness finally threatened Its very sanity. A scary thought filled Its mind as It pondered for a fleeting second if sanity had already taken hold and all that was about to happen was a moot point. Takla shook the thought off as It pondered what its options were.

To continue with the vast emptiness was insanity for sure, but what is insanity to a Godda and should It fear insanity? As thoughts swirled around like... like...

A picture formed in Takla's thoughts.

These thoughts... they had a shape. And the shape... was a pecking motion as if something was propelling it forward insistently, looking for... sustenance.

AAs the motion formulated in Takla's thoughts, the vast emptiness stirred, and the vast emptiness too started swirling, swirling into a pecking motion following Takla's thoughts. And Takla was pleased - It had made the transformation into becoming An Other - the Goddha of Nothing, Something and Other.

Takla let the thoughts gather force and before long, the pecking motion was solidified into a beak, and that beak was followed by head, which just for fun had a wiggling and waving comb gracing down the back. The neck under the pecking head belonged to a round plump and feathery body, and again, just for Takla's own amusement, was supported on spindly legs that spread into four splayed toes.

And this answers the question, which came first: the chicken or the egg.