Remodeling update (production schedule delay)

A quick update for those who are curious about the house and yard remodeling.

The fallen tree was removed.

A metric ton of newspapers have been culled from the house.

This is despite the fact that I got sick the week and a half before the windows and doors were due to be installed. (Actually I am still slightly sick, but I did manage to get a lot of stuff done.)

Just the tip of the trash iceberg.

For those who don't know, our house is almost a hundred years old, and therefore automatically has lead paint. All of which means that everything had to be boxed up and/or wrapped in plastic.

Oh look, a thin layer of cement over brick--no wonder I can't hammer nails into the wall. 

Yes, I know that I "could have" done it "cheaper" by doing it myself. But my wife decided to spring for professionals, and who am I to argue with her? Especially given the fact that I really want to start to work on Icarus.

Here is to paying professionals to deal with the job.

The advantage of hiring professionals is that they can do it faster and better. So instead of taking a thousand years doing it myself, they managed to get the three new doors and the four upstairs windows done in three days.

Still have the four basement windows to do, but that needs to wait until I finish boxing up the basement. I have decided to do that in two stages because of how much plastic wrapping needs to be done downstairs.

We still have to get the new sidewalk in (goodbye Sidewalk of Death) and the outside painting done--it is scheduled to be done before the Fourth of July.

Both me and Khari are looking forward to the work being done, and our first garden (drumming) party later this summer.

(And I am thinking about the possibility of teaching a few occult and witchcraft classes...we will see how it goes.)

How many cats can fit in the window?

For those who are eager to see me get more stuff done (Esoteric Comedy Show, Great Gherkin/Sister Seuss, the expansion of the three officer ritual book, etc.), everything is being delayed. Besides the outside work still to be done, it has been decided that some of the rooms in the house are going to get painted, and new bookcases built--mainly because this is the first time, Khari has seen me be able to deal with such things without suffering blinding panic attacks (ask me about how meds can help).

And then there is Icarus... (which deserves its own post.) Oh yes, Icarus is coming.

Everyone loves a parade (Esoteric Comedy Show)

[At an occult convention, a comedian paces back and forth on stage, talking to an audience.]

"Danger Will Seeker! Danger! Trump joke ahead!"

Yes, that is right--it is time to talk about Trump.

Our glorious President, Donald J. Trump...

The world's biggest kid...

Last year, he went to France for a state visit, and he came back home with just one take-away...

He wants a military parade, right down Pennsylvania avenue, in the middle of Washington DC...

Because he was impressed by the Bastille Day parade he saw.

And why shouldn't he be? After all, everyone loves a good parade.

Especially kids.

And President Trump is just a big kid at heart.

I say we give him a military parade.

[Crowd reacts.]

Hear me out. It doesn't matter if you like Trump or not. [Taps side of head.] You might be able to get something out of this.

First off, be grateful that he only wants a parade. He could have wanted things like the ability to guillotine his enemies...

[Mixed reaction from the crowd.]

[Waves hands.] Yes, yes, I know...

"Evil failed journalist liberal comedian bringing shame to the occult convention circuit get their heads chopped off first."

Just remember, we know the history of the French Revolution. The people manning the guillotine, feeding the criminal politic class into the guillotine, ended up getting guillotined themselves. You may think it is a good idea now...

"But not so much when it is your own head coming off!"

Or he could  have insisted that we all learn French because they are good immigrants who would never chop anyone's head off.

I don't know about you. But after a year of high school French, and another year of college French, I still can't say, "Don't you think executing all journalists, comedians, and your political enemies is a bad idea?!?" I presume that I somehow missed that day when that important statement was covered.

Or worse, he could have decided that American national dish is now Barbecued Frogger.

"Mmmm...tasty flat frog, perfectly tenderized by fifteen ton tank, flame broiled with a flame thrower, just perfect for your Fourth of July barbecue. Nom, nom--eat it up."

So he wants a parade...

A parade that is going to cost millions...

For the life of me, I could not find a reasonable estimate on how much it would cost...

But one thing was sure...

Most of the cost would be chewed up by road repairs.

"Who would have guessed that tanks driving down the street would tear up the streets that badly."

And if you got to schedule some money, and the Army Corp of Engineers to fix the street anyways "after the most attended military parade ever," how about we choose a street that already needs repairs?

[Does his Car Model Girl mime as he talks.] "Yes, we are going to have the military parade here...on Pothole Avenue, which is famous for having the most potholes per square mile. Just last week, that pothole over there ate an entire VW van, painted with cheerful flowers and rainbows, and completely packed to the brim with pot smoking hippies. Now that the hippies have fallen into the bottomless trap that we set for them, it is time to Make This Road Great Again! Yes, for the mere cost of a few tanks, some missile trucks, maybe a few planes flying overhead, and a lot of infrastructure money--which we have been promised--we can finally have a really great road. Call it urban renewal. Plus after the tanks finish tearing up the road, we will have no more excuse not to dig up the lead water pipes and replace with gold water pipes, just in time for the many rich people who are going to move to this neighborhood after it becomes the greatest neighborhood in the country. Hail King Trump!"

What?!? Your street doesn't need repairs? Your street is pothole free? Your neighborhood can't use some infrastructure money? How nice it must be to live in a Trump branded neighborhood.

"In the meantime, those poor hippies, they were my friends. Who am I going to smoke pot with now?"

And if we do it right, we could have a military parade every week, in a different neighborhood. "Call it urban renewal."

And Trump will be very happy. For after all, he holds one of the most important jobs in the world--all of which are required to love parades.

[Counts on fingers.] Pope. Required to love parades. Has special car with a bubble top, so that he can wave at the crowds at parades.

President. Required to love parades. And we have a really fine parade lover here. Maybe the most parade loving President ever. I assume that he has a special car to ride in parades. If not, the local car dealership can provide one. They provided one for the homecoming queen to ride in, why not the President?

And Superior Guru of All Things Magical and Occult Worth Knowing. Required to love parades. Has a special SegWay to ride, so they can lead the parade, and be upfront...

Because without them, how would we know what political enemies to hate? They have to lead because...

"The rest of us are idiots who would not know evil from a hole in the ground." [Pauses and makes a puzzled face.] "Why is there a tank parked in that pothole full of hippies?"

Parade loving is right in the job description of the three most important jobs in the world. Otherwise, how do you explain the typical day of someone holding these jobs?

[Does his mime of pounding on a computer keyboard, beating a dead horse, and waving at a crowd while riding a SegWay and leading a parade.]

Now, I will admit that we have to invoke some safety rules for these military parades...

Simply because we can't have the series finale of the Trump Show come too soon.

[Mimes pressing a button, rocket launch, and big mushroom explosion.]

Remember if we don't give him enough attention, he will surprise us with the ultimate surprise.

"And I don't look good in glow-in-the-dark radiation."

First safety rule...

Don't load the guns.

This is important rule for big kids like to press buttons.

[Mimes pressing a button, rocket launch, and big mushroom explosion.]

Second safety rule...

Do not seat him next to my mother.

Let us learn from last year's Fourth of July rodeo parade and barbeque...

For if we sit him next to my mother, we will have an executive order issued the next day, that requires every occultist and witch to be burned at the stake before having our ashes deported to whatever soccer hooligan land we came from.

"United States? No...what if I don't know where my ancestors came from? Oh, launched into space. Nice. Always wanted to visit Mars."

Third safety rule...

Don't let him grope the homecoming queen. Just because she is a beaver with big teeth does not mean that she deserves to be groped. In fact, maybe we should give her a taser. Just to be on the safe side.

[Mimes groping and electric shock therapy.]

Fourth safety rule...

Make sure that he is entertained.

"Otherwise, we might get bombed."

I suggest putting some of his enemies, journalists, hippies, those damned Democrats, in a clown car.

[Mimes smoking pot.] After all, I am quite sure that is where he thinks they come from.

Fifth safety rule...

Do not tell him that the sword wielding Jedi knights are not part of his military. Instead, tell him that we are preparing to fight off an invasion of time traveling octopods from the demonic suns.

"Totally believable man."

Sixth safety rule...

And the most important...

Do not let him examine the tanks too carefully.

After all, we do not want him to realize that we used hippie vans, covered with Styrofoam, chicken wire, cardboard and tissue paper, painted a nice military green, to create some realistic looking tanks, so that we could actually get some of the infrastructure funds promised to my neighborhood.

Now available on Amazon. Coming soon to other retailers...

Want me to write more of this stuff?

Buy a copy of Assault With a Deadly Taco, a show sampler, three "twenty minute shows," at your favorite ebook retailer... {This post was a "ten minute" bit.}

Because buying ebooks is how you encourage writers. And comedians.

Amazon USA

Amazon UK

(also all the other Amazon sub-sites)

Smashwords

Coming soon to Kobo, iBooks, & Barnes and Noble.

What is NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month)

For those who are curious, National Novel Writing Month is basically a bunch of writers (both professional and amateurs) who attempt to write fifty thousand words without any editing in the space of thirty days in order to create a rough draft of a novel.

The preceding sentence was forty-five words. That's like 2.9 percent of the 1667 words one needs to write on average every day to hit that goal. Or in other words, I would need thirty-eight more sentences of that length to complete today's word count goal. Provided that these were actually words that belonged to the horrific novel that I was working on.

But I would never do that; I would never count the number of words that I used to explain NaNoWriMo to pad out my rough draft and hit my goal. That would be cheating.

No, instead I would write "The Great Gherkin has a small pickle" two hundred and fifty-four times to make up my daily word count. Do that thirty days in a row, and behold a novel that is as intelligent as anything a Big Name Occultist/Magician/Witch/Shaman/KarmaCoach has ever said.

In fact, if you read the sentence "The Great Gherkin has a small pickle" out loud seven thousand one hundred and forty-three times, you will become enlightened. You can trust me on that one, for I am a novelist and not the Great Gherkin.

Or so you would think.

You keep telling lies and tall tales (dont you worry about losing readers)

Every once in awhile, I will be asked the question, "Ain't you afraid that you are going to lose readers (followers, friends, fans, etc.), if you continue to write things that offend?"

Or one of it many variations, such as "If you don't quit telling lies about the Great Gherkin, I am never going to read another word that you write," and the ever famous, "Sister Seuss is on our Order's banned reading list."

[For those who are curious, why I list fictional characters that have yet to get a full novel to themselves, just bear in mind that November is NaNoWriMo {National Novel Writing Month}, so someone is sure to complain by the end of the month that I have accidentally based characters on themselves, or someone that they worship as a Master Incarnate, or someone who should die a fiery death by being burned at the stake for disrespecting the most powerful wizard in the land...in other words, some people don't think that you can tell the difference between fiction and non-fiction.]

Honest answer is that I used to have some concern over losing readers; but a couple decades worth of writing and social media experience tell me that such concerns, if paid attention to, merely shackles oneself and serves no useful purpose.

This is especially true in the current political and magical environment. At the moment, if one expresses the wrong opinion about someone's favorite politician, one loses "friends" and followers on all social media platforms. Plus one gets labelled as a member of the enemy party even if one has no idea what they are (I kid you not--I had to look up Antifa). There is not a day that goes by that the slow tickle of defriending and defollowing does not drop my friend count down another notch.

Please note that this slow drain will eventually bottom out, simply because there are people who are my friends and followers because they agree with my opinions, value my writing, and enjoy the many cat pictures that I share. It is these people that my core audience comes from, not the many people who disagree with me so much that they put me on banned writer lists.

I have a vivid memory of the first time that someone decided to quit reading my stuff. The reason that they loudly declared that they were no longer going to read my stuff? Oh, because I decided to put ads up on this blog...because a real occultist never advertises, nor needs to pay bills, nor desires to make a living doing anything other than flipping burgers.

Quite honestly, that incident led me to the conclusion that the pro-bloggers were right, and that there was no way to make everyone happy--and therefore, I don't bother to try. Either you are one of my readers or you are not. My job as a writer is to get people to respond to my writing, and sometimes that response is getting someone to hit the defollow button.

Controversial Cat is controversial.

Death so much death (where can I order the rebirth)

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Welcome to the October Tarot Blog Hop. The theme for this particular hop is: Le Roi Est Mort, Vive Le Roi! (The King is Dead, Long Live The King) Birth, Death & Rebirth...which seems fitting considering the ghastly year that I had. 

For those who have not heard about the year I have been having: First, the head of the Hearthstone Community Church (the "open full moon people"), Alia Denny died early this year; and then just a couple of months ago, my mother-in-law committed suicide because she no longer felt able to deal with her own health issues. These two events have been forcing me to reconsider my role in the local Wiccan community, deal with my own suicidal tendencies, and double-guess decisions I made before these two deaths. 

Our wrangler asked us to ask three questions of the cards:

1: What do the cards tell you about where this cycle has  lead you--where have you been?

Knight of Cups: I started this cycle focused on my writing, and the projects that I wanted to complete. But instead of accomplishing anything, I have been forced to consider that maybe the idea of being a writer (a successful one) is just a pipe dream. Both deaths caused serious disruptions in the flow of my writing. The only thing that is keeping me from chucking it all in is the fact that I get fed up with "management" after a mere ten minutes of watching someone else manage a business, and the fact that I believe my wife would be displeased with me if I gave up on my writing (she says I am a nasty person when I am managing a restaurant). So now, I am kinda depressed and moody, and double-guessing the value of what I was (maybe still am) working on. 

(For the curious, I am most passionate about writing stuff in the Great Gherkin/Sister Seuss universe...which consists of me making jokes about the occult community. It is not educational, uplifting, or even potentially marketable. Still ninety percent of my output lately is connected to that universe. All other projects have dropped by the wayside more or less.)

Knight of Cups.

2: What do the cards tell you about where you are headed--where are you going?

Eight of Wands: Unfortunately, this card just seems to indicate that I am going to continue to be wrapped up in "the project that is just going to p*ss people off." I do find it amusing that the figure in the card is green--Hulk smash! The writing in that particular universe tends to go fast which matches the speed that I imagine the future boycott of my work is going to take. 

I would try to wiggle out of this reading, and aim for the Harmic Barrow stuff....but that is also a project that I think people are going to be upset about (the Barrow universe touches upon racism). 

On the positive side, I assume that the storm will pass quickly and my offense soon forgotten by most people (there will be a couple of people who will be upset for a long time, but considering that they have held grudges against me for other offenses seemingly forever--they don't really count).

Eight of Wands.

3: What do you feel has changed for you at the end of this cycle along your journey of life?

Three of Swords: Panic attacks. That sums up where I am currently at. (According to the lore, this card can indicate panic attacks, so let's go with that.) Lately, I have had quite a few of them. Not only am I double-guessing my ability to string sentences together, our household budget is in shambles (my wife's job hunt was interrupted by her mom's death), so that just makes the voices in my head saying, "Go back to restaurant work you f***ing loser" that much louder. Plus my wife is not necessarily in a good place emotionally. I will admit that a certain amount of self-medication is happening on my end, just so that I can keep the worst of the panic at bay. I am sure that she will recover, that I might recover (no promises--I have always been a little insane), and that we will survive. Still, I am not in a comfortable place at the moment. 

Three of Swords.

So thanks for reading. I encourage you to read other entries from this blog hop (hopefully, other people are doing better than I am). Until next time, INRI-LVX-IAO.

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Sister Seuss sums up Waterworld for a numpty

Sister Seuss sums up Waterworld for a numpty: There are no golf courses after global warming wins. Seriously, no golf courses. None at all.

Sister Seuss is not a scientist, so you can believe her.

Sister Seuss (Nothing like her mother & are we allowed to bind ax murderers)

Sister Seuss' mother had been a mild mannered children show's host. Her typical day consisted of putting up with a bunch of snot-nosed kids while holding her tongue about their odious personal habits and smiling at the constant watching eye of a television camera--"Are you excited about spelling? Let's spell something!" Her typical night consisted of swearing a lot at the television news while eating bacon sandwiches, smoking cigars, and drinking excessive amounts of rum. The only thing that kept Sister Seuss' mother sane was leaving flaming bags of dog poop on her neighbor's front porch.

Her daughter could not be more different. Sister Seuss was a mild mannered grunt in a computer support call center. Her typical day consisted of putting up with a bunch of snot-nosed Lusers (losing computer users) while holding her tongue about their odious personal habits and smiling at the constant watching eye of the remote supervisor--"Your call may be monitored, so that we can better serve you...and totally not just to deny our employees pay raises." Sister Seuss' typical night consisted of swearing at the numpties on the internet while eating bacon sandwiches, smoking cigars, and drinking excessive amounts of rum. The only thing that kept Sister Seuss sane was writing a series of cynical and totally honest children stories detailing the mental shortcomings of the more demented members of the occult community.

A typical Sister Seuss story reads something like this:

Mad Uncle Morgan might be an ax murderer...

Sister Seuss: Who are we allowed to bind? Let us count those we are allowed to bind.

Sister Seuss: Are we allowed to bind the ax murderer? Are we allowed to stop them from murdering people in a blind rage?

But let's do nothing about it because it is his Free Will whether he murders you or not.

Unicorn Hippy Witch: Oh no! Oh noes! The ax murderer is just exercising his Free Will. Free Will and Unicorns! By murdering people, the ax murderer is contrasting how sad our world is without Unicorn Love, and how wonderful it will be if we all became Unicorns! So don't bind that ax murderer! He needs no binding! He needs no self-control! Just leave that ax murderer alone!