The Cover

We all know the old saying, “You can't judge a book by it's cover.” I suggest that the statement be taken a step farther. You can't judge a book by it's PR, either.

Ever since becoming disabled, I have entertained myself by plunging deeply into a sea of books. We have an excellent library here in Monroe Township, and a staff that can suggest great authors based on my reading patterns. I've been reading so much, I've started keeping a summary log.

Of course, some books I stumble upon on my own, based on summaries, reviews, etc. One in particular promised to be a story about a sidhe princess who was in hiding in the human world. She knew her aunt, the queen, wished her death, so for three years she managed to live in L.A., working for a detective agency. This agency only took supernatural cases. The result of one case ended up “outing” her to humans and sidhe alike. What results is an interesting journey, yadda, yadda, yadda.

Now, at my age, I've read, seen, and/or done enough in the realm of sexuality to be able to express a mumbled “meh” when it comes to procreation, passion, and porn in literature. Give me that other “p” word...NO, not that one!...PLOT! Once I finished with the incomplete story of the sidhe princess (there is a follow-up book. Oh, joy! Oh, rapture!), I didn't feel as though I read a fantasy novel. Nope. I just finished “50 Shades of Fae”. It was a journey I hadn't planned on taking.

Now, this “book by it's cover” thing extends way beyond the written word. For instance, I was trying to look up “Satanic Images” using Google. I got the usual suspects. This, for instance:

and this:

A whole lot of stuff like this:

This came up. I don't even want to know:

And, finally, this:

...At which point I said, “Hey, goat, hold it!”

(Little Rascals reference...never mind...)

 

This is the “Goat of Mendes” as drawn by Eliphas Levi. This is NOT a Satanic symbol. The goat has a pentagram on his forehead with the point upward – a symbol of light. One arm points up towards the white moon, Cesed. The other points downward to the dark moon of Geburah. This shows not only the balance of yin and yang, but also the balance of mercy and justice. One arm is male, the other – female.

The torch of intelligence shines between his horns, themselves symbols of the waxing and waning of the moon and energy. The rod taking the place of his genitals is the staff of Hermes, or the caduceus of Mercury. It brings healing and vitality to the body and spirit.

The body is covered, in part, by scales, representing Water. The wings are the element Air. Naturally the torch is Fire, and the half-globe upon which the goat sits is Earth. The chest of the goat also shows the representation of mankind: one breast is male, the other female.

In total, the Goat of Mendes is a symbol of balance, vitality, intellect, justice and mercy. It was only when the Church of Satan chose this as their logo...

that the Goat started to be identified as the Devil. (also note the INVERTED pentagram. How many of us have spent time explaining that Our star and THEIR star aren't the SAME stars?)

My point to all this is a simple one: There is a lot of misleading info out there. It could be the PR on a book or movie, the politics of the day, or the information on the Craft that's gleaned from the Internet. Be aware. Look harder. Don't just jump the band wagon and grab a piccolo..find out for yourself.

I'm thinking of teaching the Craft again. If I do, I want students that have developed the skill to dig deeper, and with an independent mind. That's something we should all be doing, every day. Always.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch... things are going along fairly well. I turned 60 on July 1^st. My friend Ellen organized a surprise birthday party...and it didn't suck! I have lived in fear of surprise parties. I've had two others in my life, neither of which went very well, but this was grand! Thanks Ellen, family and friends for all the good wishes.

For myself, I got a new color and cut. Now I look like The Great Pumpkin with a better doo...

I won't see my Cancer Clinic until August 12, so fingers still crossed, but I did have my foot surgeon punch my ticket. Ankle needs an x-ray, but he thinks everything is OK. My legs may never get better, but they aren't any worse, so I count my blessings.

There is one change to announce: The book signing set for July 26^th has to be moved to August. I'll post on this blog when we have a new date.

Finally, some Sherlock news. Filming will start in Jan 2015 for a one-off Xmas special to air December 2015. Filming for the 4^th Season (yeah!) will commence sometime mid-year, and be shown 2016. Yeah, I know, but meanwhile, there is plenty of fan art, music, and parodies to keep you all going. Like THIS one, for instance:

 

Enjoy July, folks. The Summer appears to be on roller skates this year!

 

Looking Out The Window

“I am half sick of shadows,” said the Lady of Shalott.

Are you familiar with the Tennyson poem? The Lady is kept prisoner in a gray, towered castle on the isle of Shalott. The waters surrounding it stream past and downward to Camelot. She is aware that there is a curse upon her, but not sure of its nature. All she knows is that she must sit at her loom and weave the images she sees in the mirror, reflecting the scenes out her window.

In her mirror, life passes along the road - knights, maids, processions - but the visions that disturb her the most are the lovers who pass by starlight and the funerals that pass by day. This causes her weary statement, “I am half sick of shadows.”

It is only when Lancelot passes by that she looks directly at him through her window, and down towards the town. The tapestry flies from its loom, the mirror cracks in two, and the lady knows the curse is come. She finds a boat, writes her name upon it, and floats towards Camelot, dying before she  reaches the palace.

In less than a year, I have lost three friends:

Lady Olivia Robertson,

 

 

Judy Harrow,

 

 and now my old friend, Joe Scolarice.

 

 

I am battling Cancer, along with my brother-in-law and a friend or two. Others are fighting against illness and chronic pain. I, too, am half sick of shadows.

It is too easy to stay tucked away, “safe” within towered walls, seeing the world only through other eyes and venues...

But that's not living.

Despite the fear of our own mortality, we have to see, comprehend, and marvel at the colors and pageantry of life for ourselves, even if it's risky, even if death walks alongside of life, even if we never feel safe again.

So, in honor of Olivia, and Judy, and Joe, I'll keep fighting on, doing what I must and appreciating the gift of each new day and experience. Anything less is not living.

Radiation treatments are done. I am recovering from burns, digestive issues, nausea, and extreme fatigue.

 

 

  It IS getting better. I return to the hospital on June 24^th. I don't know what they're planning, but it better not be anything too invasive. I need to heal.

To that end, I've been fighting the fatigue by writing. Finally, finally, finally the Hall-Mills Murders story is done and submitted with photos. Best yet, my publisher thinks the story is creepy. Well...yeah! It should appear in the next issue of FATE or the one after. 

                                                   (From "Lover's Lane")

 

I still have more writing projects, a manuscript to start and one to revise...as well as an old project with a partner. I shouldn't be bored.

I'm starting to prepare for the next Para-X. I like to start early so I can set out all my plans. Then, I can take action once Mercury is out of Retrograde.

I am also scheduled to do a book signing on July 26^th, Mystickal Tymes, New Hope PA. I'll have free issues of FATE Magazine, plus books, Graven Images Oracle decks, pouches, and a few other surprises. Claude will be my Gal Friday for the event. The store is busting with new things! So come, shop, buy, and have fun with us. I'll post the hours when we get closer to the date.

 

 

The other things that help me heal and thrive are my love of Sherlock, combined with my passion for parody. I've found one wonderful YouTube clip that appeals to my Old English Teacher mind set. In fact, it's called... “Grammar Nazi” !

There is also a wonderful summary of Sherlock seasons 1 & 2, done with puppets...

And finally, the parody I've prayed for: Sherlock and Blue's Clues.

 

In the fight for happiness and joy, humor is a serious weapon. Our day will also come but, until then, find purpose, find allies, find laughter and creativity. Take the battlefield. The game is on!

What Dreams May Come

These last three weeks have been hard. My Cancer treatment is Monday though Friday, for 6 weeks. I am now at the end of my third week.

Before I get into the experience, there are folks who need to be acknowledged. They are the ones who make sure I get to those sessions everyday, and on time:

 

My brother Jim – who signed up to take me on Tuesdays, despite having a killer workload, and new people in his office.

My sister Jane – who is already babysitting our grand-nephews, and has to come all the way from New Hope, PA to chauffeur me 11 miles to the hospital.

My anam cara Claude – who has her own doctor appointments to keep, as well as those of her husband, Jack.

My Reike teacher and friend Bob – who drives, does energy work, fixes knee walkers and rescues me from various household duties.

My pal Stephanie – who pitches in on other appointments and walks my bunny boy Rufus.

My former hubby Gary – who agreed to take care of my car and use it to assist with the radiation sessions. He has to come from Asbury Park to do so.

 

Thanks, also, to those who have been sending distant healing, good thoughts and prayers. They are all greatly appreciated.

The treatment journey began 3 weeks ago. I was nervous to start radiation. I must have been VERY nervous because I got a phone call that Monday telling me to stay home – the machine was broken. I mentally pulled an Urkle; “Did I do that?”

It was a remote possibility. My mother, me, my nephew (and who knows what other relatives) manifest anger and fear, depression and worry, by blowing things up. Mum use to blow up light bulbs., She also produced pounding noises in distant rooms. The nephew has fried an electronic device or two. I usually exploded streetlights and such, but also blew the circuits in a friend's house when I got very passionate about the topic we were discussing. (I also once deliberately blew out the lights in a room to scare a friend who was getting snippy with me. That'll learn her.)

The next day, Tuesday, I had treatment. The machine broke down, but re-started in time for my session. Wednesday, not as lucky. Had to come in the afternoon because the machine, again, was toast that morning.

I meet with the doctor every Monday. The next week, I asked if it was typical for the equipment to malfunction like this. He advised that the machine had never done this before. They had to replace the power lines to the hospital, replace the electronics for the machine itself, and it had to be calibrated.

I felt very guilty.

It hasn't happened since.

Sorry, Old Sparky. Not your fault.

(A new doctor heard me call the radiation machine by this nick name, and proceeded to pass it around the entire staff. I told him, “Don't forget to quote me.”  Hey, you're a doctor. You can afford your own material).

The fourth week is when some of the nastier side effects kick in. (Oh Joy! Oh Rapture!) However, I currently do have one of the most common ones – fatigue.

People speak about being in the arms of Morpheus, the god of sleep and dreams. What folks don't realize is that the cool looking dude, with the black wings, is actually wearing a near-human disguise. He is, in reality, a daemon (no, not demon), a force of nature. Yes, he can bring sleep and dreams, but he can also provide stupor, coma, and extreme fatigue. The last has been his gift to me.

 

 I am tired from getting up early, getting dressed, making it to the car, through the hospital, into treatment, and back again. (I injured my right arm, which is in constant pain, but I need it to hold the regular walker and the knee walker. This is also exhausting.) Add to this the over-all perception of heavy limbs and the sense of swirling around the rim of unconsciousness, and you can see why Facebook, e-mails, and the like have recently been ignored. Sorry, all. It will get better.

 

In the interim, I have kept spirits up by enjoying the Sherlock fandom. I treated myself to a pair of character dolls. I also had Sherlock and John key chain figures, which I repurposed. Here are my buddies, with THEIR buddies.

I have also found two wonderful parodies on line and have included them below:

 

 

 

(I just found out that there is a part 2 to the above parody. I will post that next time.)

I am also looking forward to doing some revision work on a manuscript that Natalie Zaman and I wrote a while back, and producing a few articles for magazines. I have to keep myself awake and productive. I may be feeling this way for awhile.

So, fingers crossed, forgive the periods of silence, (not truly silence; I'm sure I'm snoring), and it's onward through the fogggg...zzzzzzzzzz....

LEYING IT ON THE LINE

I could have Benedict Cumberbatch read to me for the rest of my life..but anyway...

 

I've been thinking of The Jabberwocky quite a bit lately. In fact, dragons have been showing up in my dreams, in various books I've read, and stray bits of conversation. I suppose it's only normal. Spring is here (or so I'm told) and the great thaw has begun. Water is running underground. The earth is stirring, and the energy of the ley lines are awakening once again.

 

Ley Lines are also called Dragon lines. It could be their undulations I'm starting to feel in my subconscious. They are considered to be straight lines of the Earth's magnetic field. It is claimed that birds, bees, whales, and various other animals use them as a type of compass, guiding them back to spawning and breeding grounds. The idea that the earth is criss-crossed by such lines is ancient. Where these lines form a cross, there are a surprising number of churches, cathedrals, henges, and stone and wood rings. (We can also see avenues of stone tracing the routes, such as the ones found at Carnac.)

Such structures were believed to act as a storage area for the dragon energies – a repository for the natural powers. Notable among these structures are Stonehenge.

Natural formation can also mark a crossing point. Glastonbury Tor would be such a location, sitting atop the “Michael” and “Mary” ley lines.

The Chinese believed that several “Dragon Lines” could cross at one point. Their energies spiral into a vortex, such as the one at Avebury England. It is believed that 12 line cross there. Some even claim that crop circles are the by-product of ley lines. One can be seen in the photo of Avebury below.

Some regard the major, worldwide, dragon cross points as the “Rainbow Serpent”. Each of the major cross areas is viewed as one of the Earth's chakras. Chakras are the seven major points of energy in the human body, each correlating to vital organs.

The seven power points on the Earth's dragon lines are at the following locations:

Crown Chakra – Mount Kailas, Tibet

Third Eye  Chakra– Currently at Glastonbury England (this one does move locations)

Throat Chakra – Great Pyramid and Sphinx, Egypt

Heart Chakra – Glastonbury

Solar Plexus Chakra – Uluru, Australia

Sacral Chakra – Lake Titicaca, South America

Root Chakra – Mt. Shasta, North America

Yes, North America gets the ass end of the serpent. (sigh).

 

Prolonged exposure to such magnetic powers isn't always healthy. Having your bedroom or office cube over a power point could have negative effects such as depression, fatigue, failure to heal, insomnia, headaches, and nervous disorders. Couple this natural overload of energy with man made disturbance (such as high power lines), and it may be time to move. This could be why these cross points were viewed as sacred, and only used for ceremonial purposes.

 

Still, when approached gently, the energy under our feet can aid our groundings, meditations, and sense of invigoration. Tread softly upon the Earth and treat its flow of power with respect. Remember: here be dragons.

THE IDES HAVE IT

"AND YER...OUT!!"

If you're reading this, I'll assume you made it safely through the “Ides of March”. That was yesterday, for those of you not familiar with the old Roman calendar. Think of the “ides” as the mid-point of the month, based on the lunar cycle. This could be anywhere from the 13th to the 15th.

If you're heard the saying, “Beware the ides of March”... (No, not the EYES of March..what do they teach in schools these days?)... you may wonder what's so bad about the 15^th? You've got 2 days left to plan your St. Paddy's pub crawl, lay in the Guinness, and buy those stupid leprechaun shoes. Well, to people who know their history, in lieu of their Blarney Stone pubs, this is the day upon which Julius Caesar was murdered by a few of his senators, including his best friend. His last words were supposedly, “Et tu, Brute?” Which is loosely translated “You, too, Brutus?”

                                             No not BLUTO....

 

 

                                                 BRUTUS.  Jeez.

Beyond murder, this time every month does have religious associations. The ides were sacred to Jupiter, and a sheep was sacrificed to him each month. Also, the ides of March was the feast of the goddess of the year, Anna Perenna, celebrated with drinking and picnics...partying.. are we sure this wasn't held on the 17^th?

Anyway, it was also thought to be the date of the Mamuralia. This is similar to a “scapegoat” ritual, where an animal (usually a goat) – representing the sins of the community – was driven into the wilderness. At the Mamuralia, they dressed an old man in animal skins, beat him up, and drove him out of town. Kinda like the Whacking Day episode of the Simpson's where it's mentioned, in olden times, they clubbed the Irish to drive them out of Springfield...

..but I digress...

The ides of March is only the beginning of this festive time of year. It also celebrates Cybele, the great Mother. She refused the advances of Apollo..but no one refused the advances of Apollo. He caused her to fall into a deep sleep, then proceeded to..er...”spill his seed” upon her. Typical male, right ladies? Nine months later, Cybele gives birth to a demon. Apollo probably said he looked like Cybele's side of the family. This demon was so out of control that all the gods feared him .. and had him castrated. Remember: always spay and neuter your demons. From the blood of this castration there sprang an almond tree.

Wait...it gets better. The river goddess had a daughter, Nana, and she ate from this almond tree. Immediately, she becomes pregnant, eventually giving birth to Attis. Not wanting this child, she left him exposed to nature to die. Instead, he was discovered and raised by shepherds.

 

When he was grown, he was so handsome he caught the eye of Cybele. She immediately fell in love with him, but he was unaware of her attention and relationship to himself (grandson). He was to be married to the daughter of a king, but Cybele drove him mad out of jealousy. Attis ran wild through the woods until he came to a pine tree. There, he castrated and killed himself. 

 

His spirit went to dwell in the pine, and his blood turned to violets. Later, Cybele regretted her actions, and Zeus helped her resurrect him.

After this, it became a yearly celebration to cleanse the body of Attis. His eunuch followers would cut down a pine tree, cover it with violets, and bring it to the temple of Cybele, where it was mourned. After the Vernal Equinox – when the resurrection of Attis is believed to have taken place (around March 25^th) - the mourning turned into joy and celebration.

I think that pretty much beats all our St. Pat/Equinox plans. And how typical in the long run. With Easter on the horizon, here we have another dead and resurrected “son” (in this case “grandson”) sacrificing himself for the salvation of the fertile earth (or the fertile soul of mankind/Nature). Something to chew on, along with your corned beef and cabbage.

In Sherlockian news:

If you've seen pictures from the Oscars of Benedict Cumberbatch photo-bombing U2, you can't really appreciate his athletic moves until you see the video..set to the music of jaws:

Let's not forget that this is the same youthful man who can recite a poem with the voice of “a panther purring in a cello”, as one journalists put it:

Enjoy St. Patrick's Day, my poppets. Try not to do yourself a mischief or embarrass your heritage. But if you do overindulge, and need to answer Nature's call quickly, avoid almond and pine trees. Guys tend to loose their..heads...in the woods!