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Non Serviam

Lucifer, we are told, was a son of the morning, a radiant and mighty angel; and yet he fell: he fell and there fell with him a third part of the host of heaven: he fell and was hurled with his rebellious angels into hell. What his sin was we cannot say. Theologians consider that it was the sin of pride, the sinful thought conceived in an instant: Non serviam, I will not serve.

“I like myself. I am a good person.”—In no way could this superficial affirmation compete with the dark currents of thought below: “If this is life, I want no part of it.”

I will not serve that in which I no longer believe whether it call itself my home, my fatherland or my church: and I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can, using for my defense the only arms I allow myself to use, silence, exile, and cunning.

“I have been insubordinate, but only when directives did not serve the best interests of the organization. It is stubbornness, certainly; but it is not blind pride.”

applied for membership

on the way, a girl smiled at me as i passed. i had to force a scowl. it was half-hearted.

a dark door in a dark alley, the chrome of nearby motorcycles reflecting a neon-light.
"ID." she said.
"there you go, sweety." and stamped my wrist.

no one dancing on a Sunday. a bit dissapointed.

the bartender had a FU MANCHU 'STACHE hanging from his face, a pentagram aroung his neck, hanging against customary black. "how's yer day goin'?" --with a bright smile. i shouldn't have tipped him, but i did.

great music though, for this little corner i've found. good place for a troll to sit. a crisscross place. a jigsaw room.

on an empty dance floor, those that dance don't dance for long.
the lights spin while i drink and become sad.

Orange Alert

'There is some evidence from the Center for Disease Control (CDC) that links certain breeds with dog bite fatalities [8]. The dog breeds that were linked to dog bite fatalities were pit-bull type dogs, German Shepherds, Rottweilers, Husky type dogs, Doberman Pinschers, Wolf-Dog Hybrids and Alaskan Malamutes. Despite these statistics, the CDC and the authors of this study argue against breed specific legislation because (1) many breeds of dog are associated with dog bite fatalities; (2) dog-bite related fatalities are linked more strongly with responsible dog ownership; and (3) insufficient data for making statistical claims. The CDC has stated that it is incapable of determining whether the statistics above reflect a disproportionate representation of specific breeds because of a lack of data. [9] In order to calculate breed-specific fatality rates, they need reliable breed-specific population data. This data is not available. Thus, although there is a trend towards certain breeds being more dangerous than others, this cannot be conclusively proven.'

first meal

Some personal rules for silent meals:

1. Take something from each dish that is offered.
2. Take equal helpings of each dish.
3. Eat everything you take.
4. Take only what can be eaten before second helpings is passed.
5. Do not be the last one eating.

The grapes were my downfall. I figured a little sprig of grapes would be easy to get down. Not so. How naive am I at life that I have never eaten, nor am able to recognize, nor able to eat with any proficiency--seeded grapes. Those bulbous purple bastards, it took me some time to even figure out what was happening. What is this crunchy thing? There is something horrible in the grape! It slowly dawned on me what was happening. If I had not decided to eat them last, I could have paced myself, allowing time to develop a method. Too late! My frantic tongue twisted the grape against my teeth, trying to extract the cursed seed; but to no avail. Each time the skin separated and the juicy innards clung to the seed like glue. Eventually, I resorted to shoving my fingers in my mouth (which is not something you can do subtly) and gnashing with my front teeth.

After only managing 5 or 6 grapes, I slumped back in my chair, defeated. Rules 3, 4, and 5; abandoned.

first day

We walked along the cloister. There was a misting of rain that fell slowly. Stopping at the Buddha Hall fountains, the clouds that shrouded the mountain only moments ago retreated. Sun poured through the opening and a rainbow rose over the tall pines.

My reasons for coming seemed small against the backdrop of such an auspicious welcome.

"La Commedia è finita!"

I stole a carnation from Pagliacci
and gave it to the girl crying at Starbucks
She needed it more than I did
and we cried together on the walk home