My Fur Stole Likes to Chew on My Ear...

So, a woman walks into a bar wearing a deep red cocktail dress and a back fur stole draped around her neck. The sable fur contrasted the red dress beautifully and even the bartender, who was never a fan of fur garments, has to admit that it looks wonderful on her. As she approaches the bar the stole raises its head and looks at the bartender with sleepy yellow eyes. The fine fur garment is actually just a very sleepy, fluffy cat.

"Miss," the bartender starts, unsure of how to react, "do you know that you have a cat around your neck?"

The woman smiles and strokes the animal who closes its eyes and promptly falls back asleep. "yes, and doesn't he look lovely with my dress?"

***

I'm beginning to doubt that I adopted a cat at all. His favorite place to sleep seems to be draped across my shoulders or sprawled across my chest right up under my chin. He's not a cat, he's a shawl-in-training...

Anyways, so I had a stray stay with me for a night and then she was gone, but it reminded me how badly I've been missing a cat in my life. So yesterday Liz and I went to Petsmart and adopted a fluffy 5 month old Black & White Tuxedo cat. Me being me of course there was only one thing to name him: Mr. Mistoffelees! Who is doing his world renowned scarf impression as I sit on my living room floor typing this. Do you have any idea how hard it is to type with a cat on your shoulders purring away? Hard, so expect typos, He is the world's biggest cuddler and loves to walk right between your legs whenever you try to move. He's already tripped Liz who has never had to deal with a leg-cat before. For me at least it's a bit like riding a bike; I remembered how to cat-walk pretty quickly.

Can't say that I've been happier in a long, long time. I needed this kitty and by the way he clings to us I'd say he is really happy that we took him home too. Best 75 dollars ever. He's neutered, chipped, and I even get a free vet check up. He has his own proper collar now (though he still has the blue band in the pictures), bright red with a bell, and as I predicted our bead-curtain is the greatest cat-toy ever invented. He learned not to chew on our power cords and Christmas lights within the first couple hours. He's very clever for a kitten and extremely loving. He'll bounce off to play for a little while but he always comes back for a sunggle every few minutes. Or if you are sitting down he'll do his shawl impression for you and start purring right next to your ear. Vibrating shawls, I'm telling you he could be onto something here, might be the next big thing...
Pics!

Rain Rain, Stay Today, Find the Pain and Wash Away...

Nine-thirty at night, pouring rain and soaked to the bone; this is what I live for.

Not things, I will find and lose so many things over my lifetime, most of which I will never remember, but moments I can never forget.True feeling. The way the rain falls like crystal through the yellow glow of the mock-lantern lights on the side of the building, tumbling through the leaves on the trees. The way the lightning rips through the dark, revealing the roil of clouds overhead. The way the rain collects in my hair and runs down my face and neck, washing some more of the purple dye away. The way my black pants cling to my leg as I move, kicking at puddles in my flip-flops as I go. The smile of the cabby rushing out to his vehicle as I throw my arms wide to enjoy the sensation of cool rain on long over-heated skin. Staccato drumming of each drop as it falls on the carport roof that I should have long ago ducked back under as the lightning flashes across the skyline. Rain bleeding into my eyes as I stare unafraid into the dark, looking for the next spark of electricity.

How long has it been since I last stood alone in the rain and simply let sensation take over the commentary in my mind? Too long I think. No conversations, just raw basic awe, the primal thrill of a storm. As children, we are told to come back inside before we catch our death, before the lightning gets us. As an adult, we can chance the danger and just be. Soaked, and maybe relieved, relaxed for the first time in months. All the lies and deadlines and jagged edges of memories washed away. I feel myself settle in my skin again as the rain rinses off the layers of masks one by one. Disguise gone, I am calm once more. Danger is a risk, but a reward means nothing without it's opposite.

Brain Drool [Character Sketchs in Four/Four Time, Part 2]

more poetry dribble from the mess of a story in my head. Firstly a bit of commentary from Seth(well his alter-ego anyway)that talks a bit about the political situation in the beginning of the story. As bit of an explanation on the government of Islin; It is a Monarchy (always ruled by a queen) but a new Queen is chosen every twenty years by the Joint Council made up of the heads of the Noble Houses, Guild leaders, and the High Priests of different faiths. The New Queen is always a female blood relative of the current Queen who has put in a petition to be considered. There a list of criteria that has to be met before you can even put a petition in, including three years living with the lower classes. The current Queen is ill with three years left in her term and only two have put in their petitions; the Queen's youngest cousin, Winnedell and the Queen's niece Rÿche. So when Prince Ethan's(the Queen's son) daughter Laura-Jane arrives at the University it causes a bit of a stir. there is a lot more background involving the first queen Glorianna and the founding of Islin and how the country has drifted from her vision for it but I'm still working out all the details. Like I said, it's just a big mess in my head right now...

Anyways, this would be Seth on the state of the country before Laura's arrival:

Good Morning and Welcome [Jimmy Shadow]

Good morning and welcome
To the end of an age
Islin's a powder-keg
Of political rage
Our glory is tarnished
Our values a lie
But I never believed
In live and let die

Son of a noble and a gypsy bitch
I have no patience for the lives of the rich
I had it all but I threw it away
No one's ever gonna tell me what to say

Winnedell's just a clone of the Queen
Stagnation of tradition is the name of the scene
Stick with her and watch the Monarchy rust
Nothing will change, that's what we can trust
I pity all the working class heroes
Her wardrobe alone
Will turn the treasury to zeros

Welcome to the breakdown
Watch Glorianna's vision burn to the ground
Why are we just standing idly by?
Does nobody care that we're living a lie?
Glorianna your children betrayed you
All signs agree that Islin's dream is through

We all heard the rumors of Rÿche's tragedy
But she doesn't get much sympathy from me
Poisoned honey falls from her lips
And I don't wanna be here when the mask slips
Can you hear the mission-bells ringing?
Their mournful hymns
Are all that we'll be singing

So, good morning and welcome
To the end of an age
Islin is falling
Let's throw a parade
All hope is gone
So fare thee well
Three years from now
I'll see you in hell

and now the thoughts of Ethan Mars and Kieran Drayke (Laura and Sam's fathers) on the decisions they made to try and save their country:

Father's Lament [Ethan, Kieran]

I can never ask for your forgiveness
I did what must be done
But will our hope's survival
Be worth a daughter's love?
You must be beyond dispute
When you put your paper in
For if the favored daughter rises
Islin's doomed again
A danger now is waking
And stretching in the west
And none who See now can say
If we'll survive the final test
And so I cut all ties with you
But leave you with my name
I can never be your father
Just another player in the game

My burden now I pass too you
It's weight your soul bescars
A demon on a leash
To protect the Star of Mars
Glorianna's dream is fading
And pious snakes are creeping in
Blood to blood the war is starting
Steeped in purity and sin
Don't think your heart will never fail
You won't be always in the right
And no one now can comfort you
From your terrors in the night
So keep the Star from straying
And don't think that you'll survive
You won't ever be the same again
If you make it out alive

My friend, My loyal brother
What have we doomed our children too?
We've given up our future
So Islin will make it through

Brain Drool [Character Sketchs in Four/Four Time]

This is just word dribble from work again as I try and get a good handle on a couple of my characters. I'm finally back to writing swords-and-horses type fantasy again but this time around my plot is very political and twisty rather then the straight forward quest-and-destroy-the-bad-guy plots from my younger years. Much more challenging for me because every character has different motivations for what they are doing and all of them are going to have to compromise their ethics at some point to get where they want. Fiction writing as an adult is a lot less fluffy then when I was a kid and with a lot more subtext to keep track of. Anyways, this is dribble from Laura and Rÿche (pronounced:rike), who are my protagonist and antagonist respectively and is just me trying to get my sense of them down.

My protagonist's thoughts at the very beginning of the story:

Overture [Laura-Jane]

This is my home
Whither go I now?
Far away from rock so rusted red
And bridges made rope and wood
This is my home
How can they ask me now
Just to leave it all behind
For the sake of a man who shares my name?

What could I care about there
In that city made of grey unending stone
What secrets could I learn
That would ever make me yearn for more
Than just the sights of my canyon home?

They say this was the way
It was meant to always be
But no one ever thought to let me know
That I was going to have to go
The road ahead is winding
And I cannot see the path
Now all that's left is wondering
Who will I become in the aftermath?

and then again towards the end of the first book:

Reprise [Laura-Jane]

This is my home
Where will the Heiress lead us
If I choose to turn away this day
And go back to the life I used to know?
This is my home
Jimmy, I won't be your Glorianna
But I can only try my best
to rise up to the challenge of a country in unrest

The ink is drying on the paper
As my heart beats now in fear
Elliana is so sick that
She might not last the year
And with Winnie's death I know
That I am all that stands between
A madwoman and Islin's Golden Throne



And a peek inside the head of my antagonist:

Requiem for a Doll [Rÿche]

Everyone has heard the rumors
The scars that mar my skin are hidden
But still within the public view
Where is the child who chased butterflies?
She died

Little sister, little broken doll
I can fix you so you will never crack again
Little sister, little broken doll
I can make the pain you feel now never come again
Take my hand
Let me remake you better than before

Recast in porcelain and ice I stand
A testament to the frailty of man
So many that have gone astray
Will not be saved as I was that day
The pain it caused has long been gone
But the scars can never truly be undone

The laws that stood to break my soul
Shall soon be torn asunder
A new regime is rising now
Godless heathens testify
Death to those who dare defy
It's really just a mercy on your soul

Little sister, little broken doll
You will never crack and fall
Little sister, little broken doll
This much I shall promise you
The world will see when we are through
Just how wrong their sainted Glorianna was

Brain Drool [Fallen Angels Don't Have Hearts]

This is the segment where I let a little bit of what exists beyond the tourist sites in my brain dribble out for you to see. This time its an old poem of mine that I found about ten minutes ago. I think it was about my character Tristan Sorrow, but I don't remember.


Fallen Angels Don’t Have Hearts

Born in sorrow, blood and bone
When treacherous Heaven espied
Malicious mistakes in a lost heart
Cast out while angels cried

Wandering in a unknown wasteland
So far from the comforts known
Blackened wings spread in supplication
While a hatred inside had grown

Where light once beat beneath the breast
Now festering darkness coiled
Cursed now to sorrow and rage
Until insouciant Heaven is foiled

A hand is raised to the stars above
And falls as they turn away
Never to feel their gaze again
Forsaken ‘til Judgment Day

Dismissed as simply broken
A soul beyond disrepair
Crawled beneath the barren earth
To shun the sun’s harsh glare

Betwixt the moon and trees
Unseen by the blinded stars
A crown of thorns is passed
A son of prophecy it bescars

And when Judgment Day arrives
Blackened wings shall rend the white
A heartless soul will mourn
The death of Heaven’s light.

Uncultured Friday [CATS]

A lot of the subtle programming in our minds comes from the many forms of media available to us, especially in this age. Now I am not saying that we should attempt to live in a vacuum to prevent this nor is this going to be a rant against modern technology. One, that would be uncomfortable and at times very loud (though I am sure the dustbunnies would enjoy the company), and two, I quite like my many forms of media. However I do feel we should be aware of how what we watch/listen/read make up part of our fundamental thought process. It is only then that we can decide if that influence is something we like or something that is no longer working for us.

So much of my life had been spent face down in one book or another, lost in the lyrics of a song, embroiled in the world of a movie, as I desperately searched for a way to escape the dissatisfaction with my own reality. Trying to pick apart twenty-two years of novels and musicals, news and documentaries, songs and TV shows and see what is it that makes those special ones stick with me, and which ones are just further tangling my thoughts in the net, is not going to be easy. So I'm going to do a weekly post, on whatever bit of pop culture I am currently caught up in or was at one point.

To start with I am going to take my current obsession and long standing interest in the musical CATS. Based on a book of poems by T.S. Eliot the musical first opened in London in 1981 before hitting Broadway in 1982. The first time I ever saw Cats was on a battered VHS that I rented from the Flagstaff Public Library. It wouldn't be until I was twenty that I would actually get to see it live (which always leaves more of an impact on me with musicals). I'm not going to review the play, suffice to say I enjoy it still, but I am inclined to look at the characters that I like the most and think on what that says about me.

First and foremost is Mr. Mistoffelees



The young, eager magician of the Jellicle clan; it's of no surprise that he was my favorite character from the very first. As a little girl(well tomboy) who spent most of her time wielding a magical staff (read PVC pipe), banishing evil squirrels and crushing the small child eating plants that populated my back yard (which was admittedly ten acres of trees so it was a lot of ground to cover), the young sorcerer-cat was always going to be the one I identified with the most.

Next of course we have the Rum Tum Tugger



If Misto was the character of my youth then Tug was definitely the character of my teen years. Of course looking back now it is amusing how closely entwined the two characters are in the story. Tug is the David Bowie of cats and would definitely be the one to capture my attention as I discovered exactly what the word libido meant. He's the flashy showman who gives Misto his moment to shine and perhaps there is a part of me that simply wanted the same acknowledgment. I wanted to be special, not the outsider, and I wanted someone to notice that. (And if the noticing was done by some hot popular guy...well that would be lovely) Such is the thoughts of silly adolescent girl (ok, still a tomboy, but really...) I suppose. I won't deny I still enjoy watching Tug gyrate about the stage.

And lastly we come to Munkustrap, the proud protector of the Jellicle clan and narrator of the play. He is the character I seem to identify with as I move out of adolescence and into adulthood. He looks after his clan, tries to protect them as best as he can. He is the storyteller, always part of the action but at the same time somehow apart from it. I'm still chewing over the correlations between his actions and my own. I have my own group of friends that I like to look after, to defend, to tell my silly little stories too. Sometimes I take myself a bit too seriously, as it appeared he did sometimes too. So I leave you with one last clip, one I chose because it is Munkustrap as a storyteller (which I always will be, good or not) not quite as in control of the situation as he would like (as I often am) and simply because I love the mental absurdity of people pretending to be cats pretending to be dogs.



Presto!

[Yes the doodle of Misto is mine and yes I was aware that I cannot draw felines at all]
[all clips are from youtube user MrMistoffelees666, I just borrowed them to illustrate my point, so credit where credit is due, but I think you are smart enough to realize that.]

Redirect. Fnord

From time to time I will post things that I find elsewhere. It may have some relevance to things I have been talking about it, but it probably won't. You could try and find a connection if you want, it probably wouldn't be that hard, but it's not necessary.

Words are a huge part of my life. As a self style writer (self-styled because two poems published in an obscure book does not an author make) I live and breathe words. But even I find that I don't always stop to consider what a word means or where it comes from. Or how it could be used differently, thereby opening up a whole new door you never before knew existed.

Example:

ver·dant
   /ˈvɜrdnt/ [vur-dnt]
–adjective
1.
green with vegetation; covered with growing plants or grass: a verdant oasis.
2.
of the color green: a verdant lawn.
3.
inexperienced; unsophisticated: verdant college freshmen.

Now I was aware that it meant green vegetation or at least something that would remind you of that. I have used this word often enough as I try to describe the setting in my latest scribble. I did not however know that it could also be used to describe a lack of sophistication, though I have often used green in that capacity. I could have put two and two together, but I never really thought about it. How many connections have I missed? What other words could I slip in place of other, tired ones, even if it has never been done before. I write mostly because I like to tell stories, but sometimes I write to learn things. Write what you know is all well and good, but sometimes one must be willing to write what you don't know. It is then that you discover things.







Five Non-Definitions of Fnord*

being by
Reverend Loveshade,

Episkopos of the Discordian Division of the Ek-sen-triks CluborGuild


* From the Non-Existent Apocrypha Discordia
The following are not the meaning of

Fnord:
1. Not wanting bad grades: "I don't want an F nor D."

2. dronF spelled backwards.

3. You aren't cleared for that information, Citizen.

4. For no other reason, dummy!

5. Fnord

*******************************************************

In the true Discordian tradition, use this thingy freely--just please
credit the author, Reverend Loveshade, Fnord.