In about 10 days, Sunday, Jan. 22 is the Lunar New Year and ushers in a rabbit. Also at this time a tiger will leave.

In what world is a rabbit scaring away a tiger? It must be because the tiger is being pulled away by something they forgot to mention, obviously.

I love the animal attachment but not a fan of the dates we’re stuck with. Personally, I like the idea of my new year beginning in the springtime (which the lunar new year is for China, etc.).

I feel a beginning/end association more with an equinox than a solstice, whichever direction you’re facing. The rains and the crazy fluctuations we get in temperature is the perfect transition to the end of a yearly cycle.

That said, one way friends of mine will anoint the new lunar cycle is to visit a local favorite Korean restaurant, order rice cake soup, dress up in rabbit cosplay, sing/dance the ancient rituals of ancient rabbits, and laugh amongst good company.

Oh, and the reason the tiger is leaving is high cholesterol from too much cheesecake.

#yearoftherabbit #idratherusherinmorecats #rabbitsgotteeth


It started with a visit from a radioactive wombat from Norway, as these things do.

Fast-forward to my parents being visited by one such wombat (dressed like old Ben Kenobi) in the late spring in New Orleans 53 years ago. They were told what they must do and they did and I was born approximately 8 months later at 4 o’clock in the morning in Philadelphia just as the wombat said.

I’m still waiting for the wombat to show up again to give me similar instructions but until then I’ll wait, surviving only on pasta with alfredo sauce (with more fiber thrown in nowadays).

Technically I’m still 52 at the time of this writing. I have another 2 hours to go before I turn 53 but I probably won’t wait up.

Hopefully my next year gets more creativity out of me as the wombat originally dictated.

Good night everyone. 🙂

Here’s a compilation of some of my transmissions to another world.

Sometimes dumplings pretend to be ravioli, and little dumplings pretend to be tortellini. If you eat them in alfredo sauce you’ll see what I mean. (disclaimer: I know ravioli doesn’t like to admit this)

Something I’ve noticed in the “return to office” this year is a lack of office ettiquette, which I supposed is to be expected.

One that gets to me is laptop meetings on speaker. This company will give you headphones for free, but even if it didn’t it’s still up to each person to sensibly realize that the rest of the people around you don’t need to hear your meeting.

I can understand a support emergency where multiple people surround one person and their laptop, but I swear I’m surrounded by people who apparently don’t give a sh!t.

So after several days and a few looks at people I finally say something and I swear the guy looked accosted and leaves shortly afterwards. Lol. I guess I must have looked intense when I told him I couldn’t hear myself think.

There was a day where Yeti became a popular theme. Someone posted a comment elsewhere on social media and it reminded me of the email scams I see with the name Yeti and I went from there. Each time I comment to various separate posts I would bring in the Yeti somehow.It’s neat to know that some people out there get what I’m doing and I don’t feel like I have to explain.

Separate thought: the coca-cola bears would kick the shit out of a yeti, especially since they’ve once been trained by Ronda Rousey, even though she’s working for a gaming world now.

Some thoughts on my way to the Yeti:

need to deify a Yeti that roams south philly and south jersey looking for nepalese and tibetan cuisine.
also, black-eyed children and aliens and similarity to Fae? (topic from an old radio show)
I need to stick to a more consistent format. React to a real life thing and put it on the stage. Keep it short. Maybe always end with reality or at least have the tags to follow.
It may also be best to not jump around too much with new stages/settings.

The Irish Pub probably run by the Fae is a good setting, with various characters/creatures/entities working there or visiting, etc.
I need to know how to refer to one of the Fae individually. Faery is the non-gendered evil version of fairy (also non-gendered).
Some Firesign Theater influence, maybe look through some old podcasts
I don’t always have to talk about things I want to attack because then I’m just complaining. I also don’t always need to be comic. Regardless, my identity being original means being creative with these little snippets.
I could use some examples of non-comic and non-complaining snippets.

Sarcasm is always welcome as long as it isn’t too negative. I see so much examples of various “proposals” in social media (usually to women), I want to make one up for me since I never get those kind, just the spam kind.

I had to pick a new electricity supplier since my current one had just expired. I found a cheaper option using renewable energy with a fixed rate from a curious numbat named Xabe.

Normally these marsupials eat only termites but Xabe and his sister changed their diet almost exclusively to pistacchio nuts because of the lack of termites in south philly.

I didn’t want to offend Xabe or his sister by wishing a dearth of termites in my neighborhood for obvious threat-to-homestead reasons, but he said they generate more energy with the pistachio nuts.
They eat the shells AND the nuts though they still have to individually shell them like we do which I found interesting.

So, this whole task made me have to think of things like:
-refresh my memory so I can try to remember just what the hell is my electricity utility and supplier and what are the terms, rates, fees, etc.
-where can I log in to all these things and will I become upset because I’m too late because it’s already renewed and now I have to pay more
-if I pick a new supplier will I get a cancellation fee from the current one
-what worst case scenarios can I dream up that will keep me from picking any new electricity providers because of some fine print that I haven’t even thought of looking up yet
-how can I personify a volt so I can creatively complain about all this later?

Hopefully it works out cleanly, the switchover will happen in the next week.

muse intern shift

Too much peppermint syrup again. Maybe it’s time to stop going to that coffee shop, he thought to himself as he changed into a raccoon.

Wow, I’ll be able to eat hot dogs again, he thought as he wondered if he was still a he. He? looked down to see and unsurprisingly forgot all about his internship that technically was over moments earlier.

Much more covered in fur than he was a minute before, he/she couldn’t tell so decided to ask one of the very shocked looking customers in the waiting room in front of him/her/it.

“Are raccoons sex easy to figure out?” he asked the room.

“Does this mean you’re not going to look up my existence account?” a large and very newly hatched bird with a polar bear’s head said, her cracked egg all around her.

“What’s wrong with it…” the raccoon said, running a hand scanner over the sheet the bear-bird left on the desk. “Ah yes, you definitely exist. Or wait, you DID exist. Roughly a hundred million years ago. Do you know anything about raccoon gender?”

The bird bear’s eyebrow shot up.

“Pomini gonna be pissed if you leave and there’s birth fluid all over the floor.” ArJee the possom from down the hall said, carrying a filebox into the room.

“Hey, my internship ends when it ends. I don’t control when I change, I was a cat a minute ago.”

“Whose fault is that, probably the same fault as baby bird-bear there. They making realities off schedule again and you’re here so you know what Pomini say. Hey, this my song.” ArJee turned up the computer speakers to Nine Inch Nails’ Pinion.

Knowing Pomini, officially known as Melpomene and one of the original Muses, firmly believed in the mantra “You broke it you bought it” and used it liberally, if not always correctly. It happened on your watch, it’s your business.

“Are you a bird or a bear?”, Raccoon said, turning down the music and sitting down at the computer.

“I started out as a bear, next thing I was in this egg. And my papers are no good they said.”

“Ok. Here’s the bathroom key, clean up and decide what you want to be, I’ll get your paperwork squared away as soon as I figure out my gender. You sure nobody knows a raccoon’s gender?”, Raccoon said this last to the room and looking down at the computer

“I’m told not to get close enough to find out, they’re supposed to be wild. And you’re a lady raccoon.” this voice came from the tall german shepherd, watching the bear move off into the bathroom, dripping egg fluid behind her.

Finding this out was welcome, but the smart-ass dog knowing it first was annoying. “Damn right we wild, not like you ever gonna find out, pup. Whoever’s putting their own reality in the gallery, are they signing their own name at least? And where’s there a hot dog cart?”, the raccoon found it easier to get settled into her new reality when an attitude was percolating. Some things didn’t change at least.

“You’ll have to ask the hot dog vender hisself, out in front. He’s your reality forger.” the dog said, jotting something down in a little notebook, and walking toward the door.

“Oh, a detective then. Before you arrest them, can you hold them so we get our existences filed, also I want a hot dog.”

What’s a bigger turnoff, a scam from a bot or a human with the usual misspelling?

I’d have to say the human by far yields a bigger reaction from me though the bot would/should be infinitely more worrisome. The bot will only get better at what it does and while the romantic view shows a beautiful bot that actually wants to please us, the likely and very shameful reality is that the technology would be employed to nefarious ends.

Still, a bot generates much less a response from me when it’s just text to read…UNLESS there’s movement attached to it that’s designed to annoy, for example a pop-up window on a web page in front of the obviously intended content a user chose to read.

I look upon physical robots as fun and endearing but then I don’t have any contact with them. I hear there’s one at Giant supermarkets but I haven’t gone to one to see it. Imagine if one of them were to be in, say, a book store where I was trying to read the sides of books and the robot tried to get my attention to suggestive sell or stick some other book in front of my eyes like a pop-up window on a web page. LOL, I’m already getting riled up thinking about it.

Imagine Twiggy robot from Buck Rogers coming up behind you at Barnes & Noble talking in that infernal auto-attendent voice from your least favorite customer service phone call. The m/f and f-bombs would become much more commonplace and I don’t think our society would be improved. Even if Twiggy started with “Beedeebeedee” I would curse it out and probably want to get physical with it. I see someone losing it and hurting themselves in public hitting a robot. What is next? Taking a crowbar with you into book stores so you can fend off the goddam robots. Or bring your own robot, I guess. OR worse, pay some malware type of company that makes robots to keep you safe.

Now how many of us would choose the robot that looks like our favorite attractions?

I will end this with my choice of robots. I choose the posse of vampires in Fright Night 2 (1988) in the picture from IMDB below. Led by Regine Dandridge (Julie Carmen) in the foreground and right, the guy second from the left was often on rollerskates when he hunted. His robot would also be on skates. All these robots would only transform into vampire mode if angered by annoying robots or over enthusiastic sales persons. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0097390/?ref_=ttmi_tt

tea for Melpomene

So I was visited by the outlaw librarian again.

This was last night as I poured the remaining oyster crackers into a bucket so I could feed the feral octopus in my backyard.
She wanted to know why I hadn’t updated this blog in so long and I said because I was waiting on the telepathy module to start working. She quickly billed me for sixteen books that I didn’t take out of a non-existing library in Liechtenstein. I guess that’s the price for unsolicited sarcasm.

I paid her in whole wheat orzo and she left to feed someone in that libary basement.

Our discussion over, I put out another container in the yard, this one of dry food for the cats so the octopus could be left alone and pondered the question that may as well have been asked by someone from another planet (NOTE, the outlaw librarian may very well be from another planet).

There has been a pandemic and accompanying lockdown on my planet and everytime I felt like writing I felt like picking up where I left off and there’s just way too much.

I would have thought that being locked away in my own home while on societal lockdown would be a dream come true for me in many ways…

We hammered away at the ice wall until the window above the door was visible.
In time we were able to pry it open, our hands bleeding and frozen.
After squeezing through, we moved the weakest of us into deeper chasms to be given aid and manufacture warmth.
The weakest were the first to fight and some would not stay long inside.
Our preparations were more than adequate though we needed to remind ourselves of this

The last sentiment says it all. I missed the world and my interaction with it. Somehow I knew then during the worst moments that I’d look back and wish I enjoyed myself more. But then who couldn’t say that when looking back on anything?

All in all my psychological temperature was very much affected by the world around me those first six months until I forcibly had to unplug. The resulting mental detachment was like seeing a chapter in a book that seems out of place. Hastily written or perhaps inserted by unnatural force. The ensuing chapter was not such a surprise but how we got there was rushed.

Now we are all in those latter chapters, the only variance being the acknowledgement of what parts are rushed.

The outlaw librarian (known locally as Pomeen or Pomeeny) would be back and I should consider myself blessed she stops by anymore. Her life seems to be so busy nowadays.

This time I’ll be ready and perhaps she’ll stay for tea.

tea ceremony


I’m interested in the idea of taking a break for tea, but I don’t have the space for it at work, nor would I want to attempt to acquire it as there are tens of thousands of employees vying for space in the tall office building I work in, surrounded by similar skyscrapers.

What I think is missing from the above ceremony is a dedication to yourself. Everything is spirituality and the workplace, as if those two concepts are related except by personal necessity.

I don’t know about everybody else’s world, but the one I live in needs to be escaped from to keep my sanity. My job is not my spiritual path, but a way to pay my bills and to give my brain it’s daily dose of mental exercise.

My ceremony needs to include a walk outside and thinking of characters in my head that are saving the world somewhere involving the preparation of food on a windy day. In order to facilitate this task, they need to go into an old library with lots of dark wood and dusty attics with creaky desk drawers and an occasional cat and accompanying chihuahua that shouldn’t be free to go upstairs but you can hear him coming because of his nails tapping on the wood floor.

This tea is called Russian Caravan, but I’m not sure it’s Russian. I love Georgian tea, which is close to Russia but still not Russian. Russian Caravan has an interesting story to it’s name: it’s alleged to be oolong tea that was brought in caravans from China and inherited a smoky flavor from the campfires along the way.

“I didn’t say it was true, just that I believe it.” (M. Mignola)

Don’t leave your tea upstairs in the dusty attic unless you finish it first.


graphing a dream

If reality lives in a cube riding on a rail (time) and dreams live in a cube on a rail right next to it, it stands to reason that an occasional function may be applied on one cube such that it’s content maps to the other.

I dreamt later tonight and saw some of you in the dream. I’m in the library I remember most fondly from my youth, in the Frankford section of Philly. I’m in the front and I heard you guys fussing over something so I went back and recognized you. After a little discussion we agreed to work together even though we didn’t all start out on this adventure together. [see also: Chance meetings in dreams (Hypatia) pp. 110-309, 402-417, Appx B. – annotated by Chaucer]

Apparently, there’s a book in here somewhere of some inordinate degree of power that is the target of some disreputable character. Our goal is to keep this book out of that person’s hands by any means possible. The book is not necessarily always available, but it’s insisted upon that it is physically present in this library. So, to secure the safety of whatever future we need to find the book and then hide it. (I seem to recall some argument about this part, especially because I remembered it the most after waking later)

Some parts I remember vaguely while others are more vivid. For example, I remember little of climbing up the bookshelf and going up through the ceiling to drop down in the restricted office space in order to let the rest of you in. It’s all a blur, like fragmented images. I remember more the mathematical discussion we had about how adding advanced string theory to simple algebra negated the need for derivative calculus and more than half the functions of quantum theory. You guys told me about my apparent ease of getting into the library’s restricted rooms which prompted wonder from all of us because I don’t think we were in the same library, at least not after the fact.

Anyway, once inside the locked room, we found the book in question and moved the shelf. Quickly: we made a hole in the wall behind the shelf to hide the book in. We patched up the wall from plaster found in the basement and the hole itself was accessible through removal of the whole shelf making us move all the books on it then putting them back carefully. The discussion and argument that accompanied this part of the project was what fulfilled most people’s anxiety quota in dreams.

It was a relief to get out of there finally, though not a great neighborhood in the middle of night. I think we all wondered how we could be as familiar with our surroundings, some more than others, but I was assuming it would all work out.

It would take almost six months to find out from a trusted source that the disreputable person from the dream was indeed thwarted, though it was a painting in Chartres and not a book that he was after.

Irish muse

Last week I travelled to Ireland with family and I found that over half of my observations fed the writer in me.

The trip was spread out to 4 cities across Ireland and although some included metropolitan areas, the majority of my time was spent in or around the countryside. I feel as if I’ve read countless stories trying to describe that countryside, even if the story wasn’t written about Ireland. I often brought a bag containing my notebook in case I got the chance to write, and a number of times I was able to do so. I found myself describing places I saw without story context just because they belonged in a story somewhere.

While the above observations were unexpected, I did have some preplanned research for my stay in Ireland. The first was a need to do any tours I could on Bram Stoker and the second was for the rich folklore of Ireland, specifically what has been expressed in varied forms like the fae, the other people, the little people, the good people, the Aos SĂ­, and many more.

As it turned out, the advice I was given by multiple sources was to satisfy both of those desired researches in Dublin, which surprised me because I would have thought a metropolitan area is the last place I would expect to be the culture center for folklore. Also, I only spent 2 nights in Dublin which didn’t give me enough time to go after these subjects. I did manage a literary tour during the last hours I was in Dublin, and I found to my biggest surprise that Bram Stoker wasn’t very heavily represented. There are important historical reasons for this, including realizing the works of the other notable Irish writers as well as noting the content of what each writer wrote about.

As to the Irish folklore, I bought some books on the subject in a quaint bookstore in the town of Dingle, in the County of Kerry. Suffice to say that my desired subjects for research, especially the folklore, would require it’s own trip. I also think it’s a trip that would need some pre-planning, as I still can’t imagine the metropolitan area of Dublin being the source for folklore. That still seems to me to be the province of the countryside.

During my time there, I was reading a published journal of Bram Stoker’s, and I found it interesting that some of his entries were near professional quality, instead of scribbling. I know that the published work was a reproduction of his actual handwriting, but I’m pointing out that some entries were final draft quality. Seeing that made me think that there was another, more personal journal of Bram’s somewhere.

My last night in Ireland was spent in a very old castle, where some apartments were renovated and furnished with electricity. My life-long love of Hammer films and the like makes it practically a critical requirement for me to explore the unfurnished rooms of this old castle, and I didn’t disappoint. If anyone is interested in seeing the very amateurish films I made with my phone of my explorations, feel free to see them at the link below.

A night in Knappogue Castle

For everyone that has never been to Ireland, I encourage you to visit there.

The Ireland trip in 2019 ended in an Airbnb at Knappogue Castle, in Quin in the south of Ireland. There will be more added to this, but for now I wanted to get up the videos I made of my late night explorations in an ancient castle.

The general theme behind this is my life-long love of horror movies inspired by the Hammer films of the 60s and 70s I saw in my youth. Here I was staying overnight in an ancient castle…what am I about if I don’t go exploring those non-renovated rooms of the castle where there may not be electricity? Enjoy.

Video #1 (Friday morning to show daytime and to intro)

Video #2 (Thursday night, unfortunately in portrait and no flash set, please bear with it, it’s short)

Video #3 (Thursday night continues where video#2 left off, except I set the flash and went landscape so you don’t have to put your head sideways)