Suitable Punishment for the Violators

In a minimalist concrete cell, eternal accommodation.

A filtering of light, barely discernible through small steel shards.

Companionship obsolete, solitude absolute.

 

Your wrists, ankles, and neck shall reside in shackles.

Your skin shall be kept naked and washed with lye.

Your nourishment will be maggots and urine.

 

You entered this world through the body of a woman,

Yet you participated in the desecration of the body of a woman.

 

You believed yourselves entitled to this depravity;

You were not.

You call yourselves men;

You are not.

 

You are no longer entitled to the company of humanity;

You have no humanity.

 

You worshiped at the temple of iniquity;

May the Devil feast upon your souls.

"I Get a Little Lonely When The Sun Gets Low..."

"...And I end up looking for somewhere to go
Yes, I should know better but I can't say no
Oh no, no, no
No, no, no, no, no, no, no..."

 

 ...(From Night Owl by Gerry Rafferty)

          (full lyrics below)

 

Though, to be fair, nowadays I don't really "get a little lonely when the sun gets low", and instead of "looking for somewhere to go", I generally end up looking for a video game to play or a dvd to watch. BUT, once upon a time, much like Gerry Rafferty, I had periods of nighttime melancholy, where I would be "lost in dreams in a world full of shadows", and would sometimes soothe this distortion with "one more drink, you're sailing away".

 

Thankfully, I've never been a heavy drinker; I don't like the feeling of being obliterated (mostly) and I hate hangovers and I wouldn't want to trip over my feet and fall on my face (mostly). So I've stayed away from the demon drink (mostly). But if I'd found (or find, in the future) the lure of the bottle too lurey, I think I could listen to Night Owl for some solace, with its calming melody and gentle melancholy, set against its harsh truth, maybe repeated listenings would be a way to ease myself away from going down, down, down (no, no, no...).

Full Lyrics:

Night comes down and finds you alone
In a space and time of your own
Lost in dreams in a world full of shadows

Down the street the neon light shines
Offering refuge and hope to the blind
You stumble in with no thought of tomorrow

Yes, I get a little lonely when the sun gets low
And I end up looking for somewhere to go
Yes, I should know better but I can't say no
Oh no, no, no
No, no, no, no

The lights are low and the Muzak is loud
You watch yourself as you play to the crowd
One more face in a palace of mirrors

One more drink, you're sailing away
One more dream but it's looking okay
One more time to watch the flow of the river

Yes, I get a little lonely when the sun gets low
And I end up looking for somewhere to go
Yes, I should know better but I can't say no
Oh no, no, no
No, no, no, no, no, no, no

New Year's Day Cthulhu (Welcome to 2022)

(Warning: This blog post does NOT contain hugs and sunshine)

 

Another day, another year. The Covid pandemic continues, the planet warms, political leaders (mostly) continue to be crappy, etc. Maybe it's time we just realize that it's all going to shit and the only thing that can "save" us is to bring forth the Lovecraftian cosmic deity, Cthulhu, to cleanse this earth of its mediocrity and evil.

Cue Metallica (and the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra) - The Call of Ktulu (Cthulhu) - and bring on the apocalypse!

Where is the 2nd Guitar???

(The answer is: There's no 2nd guitar!)

Once upon a long LONG long time ago, when I was 16-18 years old, I was learning acoustic (classical) guitar. I really enjoyed my lessons, which lasted for about 18 months, and I think the acoustic guitar is a beautiful instrument (I also like the electric guitar but I think acoustic - nylon or steel string - is more pretty). I may have played a little better had I practiced more - as gently suggested by my lovely guitar teacher - and, perhaps, I could've been more proactive in my guitar learning. Still, I had fun and I'm glad I had guitar lessons. I did, however, develop a wee crush on Mr Guitar Teacher, despite his being somewhat older than me and married - which leads me to the next, slightly difficult, paragraph.

Mr G T and I would chat during and after my lesson, mostly about music but other things as well. I can't really remember too much of what we actually talked about, I just know that I was beginning to enjoy his company in a way that even my addled teenage brain realized was becoming problematic and inappropriate and wildly unrealistic. I eventually stopped going to guitar lessons; partly this was because other things were distracting me and maybe I wasn't really going anywhere with my guitar playing, but I also stopped because I knew nothing was ever going to come of my feelings for Mr G T and I was too vulnerable and I felt it was better to be away.

 

Obviously, OBVIOUSLY, obviously, there is a textbook analysis/argument to be made here about a teenager falling for an older person and why it happens; blah blah seeking security, when you're young and insecure, from someone who seems to know stuff, blah blah feeling protected from the big scary world, blah blah he was nice and didn't treat me like the idiot child that I was, so of course I was going to like him. Blah, I don't care, my love was real! Blah!

But what the hell has this got to do with the missing 2nd guitar (as per the title of this blog post)? Let me explain, the title refers to three things:

Firstly, it is a metaphor for a long ago, but occasionally remembered, sadness at not being able to see my guitar teacher anymore (he was the 2nd guitar). 

Secondly, it is a comment about the most incredible Lindsay Buckingham acoustic guitar version of Fleetwood Mac's Big Love, to which I've listened for many years believing there was a 2nd guitar, until I watched the video clip (which I have conveniently placed below).

And Thirdly (if I can keep going a little longer with this kooky 2nd guitar metaphor - which I'm going to do), much like Lindsay Buckingham not requiring a 2nd guitar to play this song, I've become someone who doesn't require a "2nd guitar" (partner) to "play my song" (live my life) - not that my life is as good as acoustic Big Love, but it's pretty good nevertheless.

 

Thank you, Lindsay, that was freakin' awesome!

A Perfect Organism (Alien:Isolation)

 When you sneak up behind a Xenomorph and try to pull her tail:

On the 1 Year Anniversary of Willow's Final Purr

It's been a year since my lovely Ms Willow Pussycat left this mortal coil and transformed into a spirit-feline (the true and most powerful form of kitty kats). I'm still finding fur and cat claws in my/our abode and, occasionally, I can hear a faint meow. So it is clear to me that Ms Willow is still lingering, which is comforting.

I will likely get another earth-bound cat one day, but for the moment I'm content just to have spirit-Willow. I can't take anymore photos of Ms Willow but that won't stop me uploading existing photos:

Things of Pink and Zebra

 (This "collection" brought to you by the "artist's" inane obsession with pink and zebra)

 

Infrequent Blogging May - or May Not - Continue/Adieu, 2020

Only a foolish, foolhardy fool would even attempt to predict the possible future frequency of blogging on this here Effulgent13 Blog. Clearly, Effulgent13 blogging has waned somewhat in recent times, and especially for the duration of this year. But, the blogging may yet continue (Lord Be Praised), for better or worse, and even without the help of New Year's Eve wine (which I may have started drinking a little early - and, yes, this blog is being written with the aid of a few wines). And I make no apologies for this - this year of 2020 is one which, very much so, necessitates the early drinking of New Year's Eve wine.

Of course, one does not have to blog whilst early NYE's wine drinking. But one can, and I am. And I'm feeling that I have neglected this blog of late; so if I can get one last, hopefully not too incoherent, but wildly meaningless, blog post written before the end of this year, then all is not lost.

So, since this is the final day of this year - the year of 2020 (Annus Covidus) - let me farewell thee; with grace, with compassion, with hope.

 

Dear 2020,

You were my final year with my beautiful pussycat Willow;

You gave us hard lockdowns - allowing me to justify excessive video game playing and excessive introversion;

You gave some succour to the flora and fauna (though not always to the humans) of earth;

You brought back long phone conversations (very Gen X);

You engendered face mask wearing - causing humans to realize how much we communicate with each other with just our faces(!);

You allowed the humans of earth to gain some understanding of the fragility of our existence (and, hopefully, to become more wisdomed because of this).

Vale Ms Willow Pussycat

1st December 1998 - 21st July 2020

(21 years 8 months)

You have been my furry buddy for the past twenty and a half years. It has been the most biggest joy to be your companion animal and your servant.You have brought me much comfort and solace over the years; during the ordinariness of each passing day and especially during my times of existential crises.

It was a privilege to be a crazy cat lady with you.

Rest in peace, my beautiful.