Weddings are an interesting thing. Fun to go to, an utter chore at times, and an interesting event to learn about people’s expectations behind the scenes. If the ceremony is too early, people complain about the wait time before the reception starts. If groups are coming from out of town and the same town, they expect a bus to pick them up and take them back; if it ain’t there, expect to hear complaining. What happens if table seating is not what would be expected? Trouble. I’ve been to three weddings in the last two months and what’s said behind the scenes is always a learning experience. And in Australian summer heat that’s being increased by neighbouring bushfires, wearing a suit can be a sadistic type of torture. Someone call for shots.
I actually thought Crisis on Infinite Earths had excellent fan service. And I’m not a DC guy or anything not was the story great, but boy o boy was it fun.
A reconfiguration of orders is unfolding along the horizon in preparation of a better tomorrow – and not meeting it implies failure. As a writer, even when the writing you’re doing isn’t as complex as other forms of writing, you’re bettering yourself in the pursuit of the craft, of story. No excuse is good enough to deviate from this path because at this age there is only one path. The Age of Pisces-Virgo, the age of a day, there isn’t enough time in them, so what little we do have should be used wisely. This hiatus is over.
Upon walking by a dusty shelf in an even dustier bookshop, tucked away on the main street of a town in country Victoria, a small book with the author’s name of Wordsworth grabbed my attention. It was pale covered and it’s pages had gone brown and stiff and felt ready to tear at the wrong turn of a page. It’s part of the reason why I bought the thing, the other being how certain books just happen to look up at you when you’re walking by, signalling something inside you to go ‘that one’. Wordsworth isn’t someone I fancied reading any time soon, but he is worth the buy I suspect. I purchased several other books that day, Ibsen. Today I happened upon Memoirs by Yeats. I like Yeats, a lot, but wasn’t sure on reading his memoirs. So Lolita came home with me instead.
Here’s a rambling thought on where the concept of God came from. I imagine that at some point during pre-history, humankind asked where it came from and from that assumed it was given life by, well, a divine being. A god or the God. But how did this concept of God form from such an assumption?
When there were pantheons of gods, there was a god for every facet of life. At the top of those pantheons reigned a supreme god, usually the god of light, a representation of the Sun. That giant burning hot ball of fire is what gives life to this rock we stand on. It provides for us because without it there would be no food, no warmth, no us. It is what lights our world day or night. How it lights the night is by the Moon, which reflects the sun’s light onto our world.
Now, when the monotheistic concept of god was created – the singular God, the All Mighty, who is omnipresent and all powerful, and who had a son that was part man – this very idea physically resembled what the Sun and Moon are to us at any given time in history. Our sun’s light is everywhere, whenever we can see the world without artificial assistance, the Sun’s light is what makes that possible, it is ever present, which, in a sense, makes the Sun omnipresent. By its size, we know it can fit a million earths in its belly and by its fire, we know it won’t stop burning for billions and billions of years. In that regard, to us it is all powerful. And when it disappears for the night and the dark creeps in, it sends us its one and only son, who is part of us, to continue reflecting its light throughout the night, so we don’t lose our way.
Whether the ancients picked up on this or not, the fact is the subliminal effect this system has had on us is evident in the many different beliefs about who we are, where we came from and what created us. For if God were here, then He is in the light and the light is our Sun.
What if you were born backwards in time, so instead of living forward in time with a destination of the future, you lived backward in time with a destination of the past. You’d get old the further back you go, and you would take with you to the past all the knowledge of a future age. The things you could do, good or evil.
Merlyn the magician was born with that curse. It’s how he helped forge Arthur into the king he needed to be. The world would be askew to a very unique perspective. It would have you treating people quite differently, I suspect.
I think I would be driven mad by dealing with my family at opposite stages of our lives. Indeed, family will always drive people to insanity no matter the circumstance.
The monotony of work is the hidden existential threat that we never saw coming. It’s the what will really cause a crisis on infinite earths and end existence as we know it. It is taking away our freedoms and marching over history’s graves, cackling like a hyena.
On a lighter note, Christmas is around the corner and its time to get into that ole St Nick spirit again. Fill the baskets up with presents and the fridge with turkey and ham and all that other good stuff. Put up a no vegans allowed sign on thy doors. But let them in for presents and desserts too.
With this here Game Boy from 1989, I have created a synthesizer using the nanoloop, a small cartridge that fits into the back of this ancient device to convert the system’s hardware and sound card into a beat making, bass rumbling, bit crushing music box. The sounds it makes are pretty wild, man.
I’ve also started watching Neon Genesis Evangelion again. The TV show. Will watching the rebuild movies after it. First time I’ve seen the show in 15 years. I must say, it is bloody good and has aged very well. They don’t make ’em like that anymore.