Haus der Luege : Noli Evocare Quod Reprimere Non Potes

In the Spring of 1990, my 13 year old self was hanging out with a friend in a sketchy lean-to of a garage in New Hampshire, cleaning up from tinkering with another friends car, and listening to cassettes on the ghettobox. We'd been listening to headbanger standards for most of that day- Iron Maiden, Metallica and the like.

I was pawing through the cooler for another can of piss-water beer when I saw this bright yellow cassette case with a freaked-out zombie dude on it. I tossed it in the player, twiddled some thumb while it damn thing rewound, and pressed play.
A hollow, 'verbed out jangler of an intro riff.
Dead simple drums, all backbeat.
And then, this tweaked out caterwaul that could only have come out of some Frank-n-furter's monster made from parts of the Big Bopper and Patsy Cline"

"you ain't no punk, you punk..."

I wanted to turn it off, but I was afraid to get close enough to the player to do so- as if increased proximity would have been enough to contaminate me.

I got news yesterday that a one of my good friends from the renaissance faire circuit up here has transitioned.

Sarum, where ever you are, I'll think of you every time I pick up one of my whips. You helped me get down the basic skill, and that has made all the difference in the world.

My hope for you in the next world is that you never tire of plundering your neighbors' heavenly virgins, that you are found to have fulfilled the formula of your praxis, and that the you will remember, when you think of your family down here in the Mater-Materia, that many loved, respected and relied upon you; Faire will not be the same without you, and the world is a smaller place without your soul in it.

Make Babalon blush when you flirt with her!
Laphroaig, Lust and Light to you, brother.
You were always on the square and level.

AUM.

So, last night , Drae and I had a conversation that essentially established where we are going from here... or rather, not going.

Drae will be moving out sometime within the next couple of weeks - no hard date established - and that will be that. So, a couple of awkward weeks, and we'll see how it goes from there with everything involved in packing her up and out. I believe that she is going to rent a storage locker in the meantime, to get her stuff into until actual move-out dates.

Kess was told this morning, and declared that she and I needed to have a conversation, no additional details. Wonder what that's about. I seriously hope that she is not planning on waffling in some way. At any rate, I hope that Kess and I are able to go forward from here.

Part one of the conversation went well, although Kess did not have much to say. To sum up, it was a fact finding mission. There was a fair amount of discussion and the tentative conclusion is this: Drae is going ot go house sit for a month, and in the meantime, we're going to try to work shit out a bit, and see where things are at the end of it. Other things were addressed in the midst of it, but that was the substance. at least shit is on a timeline, of sorts, now.

Part two is another story.

This is without a doubt a truly shitty day. I've suspected it was coming for while, and more than anything, I've fought to put it off as long as possible in hopes that shit would work out. It seems that this is not going to happen.

Its been nearly 4 years since Drae moved in with Kess and I. Lot of heartache, lot of OK times, and a few really good ones, and it looks like that's going to be up the creek. Everyone tries to make it work, over the last year the success rate has been declining, particularly between the girls. They seem to be unable to communicate most of the time, and the relationship between them is bad. Overall, the household status is generally poor, owing mostly to their conflict. No one is getting what they need, much less what they want at this point.
My radar has been going apeshit for about 2 months. Today, is contact day. Details below the cut.

Counter-culture hero, Master Magickian, surreal humorist and psychologist, Robert Anton Wilson let the Ka out of the meat-bag on January 11th.

Bob was a hero and friend to a lot of us odd-ducks who grew up during his tenure here on on earth. To me he was a reminder that hilaritas is the defining feature of the spiritually awake, and that grimness accomplishes little, a trick I have yet to master much myself.

So, the world seems a bit darker and a little less full here today which is odd because the universe is irrevocably thermodynamic and Bob was a great conservationist.

Hail, Eris! All Hail Discordia!

Enjoy your vacation, Bob.
Y'all come back now, ya hear?