Saturday, September 24, 2005
A couple of blog tweaks
I was reading yesterday when I came across the familiar quote "cogito ergo sum" (I think therefore I am); for whatever reason, I instantly thought "BLOGito ergo sum," "I blog therefore I am," and was dazzled by my brilliance... for about a nanosecond, after which I realized that such an obvious turn of phrase must have been thought of and used a billion times (I checked, and yes it has-there are even shirts that have that phrase on them). I still loved it, so I decided to put it on my blog; the only problem was that I didn't know how to insert plain text (as opposed to text that's part of a link) anywhere outside of a post. I started going through the blogs I read in my mind, trying to think of who might have text that wasn't part of a post or a profile, and wasn't coming up with anything (not surprising, as there's not much reason for people to stick random bits of text in their margins); in that half-aware state of "internal thought," I followed an urge and brought up a page with a long list of unfamiliar blogs on it, picked one, clicked on it... and it had exactly what I was looking for (and I was amazed to have another psychic event so hard on the heels of the recent 2-WOW). It turns out that the "p" command does more than paragraphs and alignments, because that's what I found to insert text with; I played around with the quote and the code, to see where I wanted to put it (I had it at the bottom of the page for a while), and how to best format it... the result's in the sidebar.
Also in the sidebar's an addition to the translator that's been there since the early days of my blog; it's always bothered me that there were far fewer languages available than the # spoken in the countries I have visitors from, but I hadn't found any sites that did full-site translations that had more languages available (and I'd LOOKED), so I was stuck with just 8; today, though, I found a site that had many more translation options, and that led me to the site that produced the translations... but there didn't seem to be any way to get free translations there. After too long spent floundering around the site, I followed a hunch and did a Google search; I found a site with a page with an impressive range of translation options... including access to the previous translation site. If English is your 2nd language, and you'd rather read my ramblings in Croatian, Czech, Danish, Filipino, Finnish, Greek, Hungarian, Icelandic, Latin, Norwegian, Polish, Romanian, Russian, Serbian, Slovenian, Swedish, Turkish or Welsh, click on where it says "LOTS more languages" right under the Babel Fish translator; on the page that takes you to, go to the 2nd translation box from the top in the right-hand column, where it says "InterTran -- Translate a Web Page," and stick my URL where it says to. As a bonus, if you speak Bulgarian, Dutch, or Tagalog, there's a little translator at the upper right, above the rest, with those languages available; it's still far from ALL languages (the lack of an English/Arabic translator is especially unfortunate, although more because I'd like to be able to read THEIR blogs than because I think they're that interested in mine), but hopefully it'll make a significant # of foreign visitors feel more welcome, and more able to figure out what I'm babbling about (although even a native English speaker probably has some difficulty with that sometimes, lol).
While I'm on the subject; I'm always pleased to see how many bloggers have some sort of translator on their blogs, as I think that enhances our sense of unity as a community... and always sad to find blogs that look cool that I can't read because I don't know of any translators that handle the languages they're written in (that'll be less of an issue now, but still significant). Given that, and that many blog readers won't know where to go to get translations, I'd like to suggest to everyone who doesn't have any kind of translator, and that absolutely includes people blogging in English, that you put some sort of translator and/or link to one on your site so that more of the blogging community can read what you have to say... because I don't think we can over-state the importance of people from all over the world reading about each other's lives and thoughts.
Also in the sidebar's an addition to the translator that's been there since the early days of my blog; it's always bothered me that there were far fewer languages available than the # spoken in the countries I have visitors from, but I hadn't found any sites that did full-site translations that had more languages available (and I'd LOOKED), so I was stuck with just 8; today, though, I found a site that had many more translation options, and that led me to the site that produced the translations... but there didn't seem to be any way to get free translations there. After too long spent floundering around the site, I followed a hunch and did a Google search; I found a site with a page with an impressive range of translation options... including access to the previous translation site. If English is your 2nd language, and you'd rather read my ramblings in Croatian, Czech, Danish, Filipino, Finnish, Greek, Hungarian, Icelandic, Latin, Norwegian, Polish, Romanian, Russian, Serbian, Slovenian, Swedish, Turkish or Welsh, click on where it says "LOTS more languages" right under the Babel Fish translator; on the page that takes you to, go to the 2nd translation box from the top in the right-hand column, where it says "InterTran -- Translate a Web Page," and stick my URL where it says to. As a bonus, if you speak Bulgarian, Dutch, or Tagalog, there's a little translator at the upper right, above the rest, with those languages available; it's still far from ALL languages (the lack of an English/Arabic translator is especially unfortunate, although more because I'd like to be able to read THEIR blogs than because I think they're that interested in mine), but hopefully it'll make a significant # of foreign visitors feel more welcome, and more able to figure out what I'm babbling about (although even a native English speaker probably has some difficulty with that sometimes, lol).
While I'm on the subject; I'm always pleased to see how many bloggers have some sort of translator on their blogs, as I think that enhances our sense of unity as a community... and always sad to find blogs that look cool that I can't read because I don't know of any translators that handle the languages they're written in (that'll be less of an issue now, but still significant). Given that, and that many blog readers won't know where to go to get translations, I'd like to suggest to everyone who doesn't have any kind of translator, and that absolutely includes people blogging in English, that you put some sort of translator and/or link to one on your site so that more of the blogging community can read what you have to say... because I don't think we can over-state the importance of people from all over the world reading about each other's lives and thoughts.
Friday, September 23, 2005
A psychotic pizza memory
If you guessed that the memory's psychotic because my mother's involved... you're right!!
Back in my distant, pre-marital past, if my mother had to work late she'd sometimes call me at some point during the day and ask me to phone in a pizza order that'd be timed to be ready when she'd be reaching the restaurant, so she could pick it up with it still reasonably hot and bring it home; you wouldn't think there'd be any way to make something so simple into a battle, but she's unusually talented in that area, so she found a way... she'd play games with what time I was supposed to ask them to have the pizza ready by, in a attempt to trick me into picking an improper time so that she could then complain that the pizza was cold, or not ready, and then hammer me about it for the next month. Not being a fool, I'd dig my heels in and insist that she give a specific time, not a group of times, not a range of times, but ONE specific time, and after a few rounds of guessing games she'd normally give in... but one memorable time she didn't:
Her: I'm not sure what time I'll get out, and then I'm not sure what the traffic will be like, so I can't give an exact time.
Me: Nevertheless, you have to give me an exact time to give the pizza place.
Her: I might miss the worst of the traffic, but then again I might not, so I can't give an exact time.
Me: You still have to choose an exact time for me to give the pizza place.
Her: I might have to stay a little longer to help close up, but I won't know until after we're closed, so I can't give you a exact time.
Me: I'm not inventing a time that's guaranteed to be wrong, and then it's MY fault that the pizza's not done when you want it to be; YOU come up with a time, and then if it's wrong it can't be blamed on me.
Her: Fine, then we just won't HAVE pizza!! {smashes the phone down}
And that's not even the psycho part; several hours later, I was at home, reading in my room, when the phone rang:
Her: So where's the pizza?
Me: What pizza?
Her: Did you screw up and order it at the wrong place?
Me: No, the last thing I heard from you was that we weren't HAVING pizza.
Her: No, I called and told you to order pizza!!
Me: No, you called about pizza, refused to give me a time, declared that there would be NO pizza, slammed the phone down, and never called back to tell me anything different.
Her: {smashes the phone down}
When she arrived home, she was frothing at the mouth about my not having ordered the pizza that she'd said we weren't having, going on about how she'd told everyone at the pizza place how stupid *I* was for not placing an order I'd never been given permission and the information to place, and she repeated her nonsense over and over, never admitting that she'd retracted the offer of pizza and never countermanded that final decree, no matter how many times she was reminded... and for MONTHS afterwards, there was an additional battle about what for everyone else in the world is a trivially simple task; she'd make nasty comments about my not "forgetting" to place the order, and I'd respond with reminders of what actually happened before, and tell her that if she pulled a similar stunt there'd be no pizza AGAIN.
For all her bluster at me about the incident, she NEVER used that degree of game-playing with ordering pizza again; at least on some level, she DID know that she'd been the one at fault, and felt it necessary to be endlessly belligerent about it to try to steamroller me into forgetting the facts... which never worked, but that didn't stop her from trying.
That memory came back to me this evening as I was cheerfully slurping up pizza that my husband had brought home; it amazes me how normal dealing with my mother's psychoses used to feel... and how much better my life is without her as a regular part of it.
Back in my distant, pre-marital past, if my mother had to work late she'd sometimes call me at some point during the day and ask me to phone in a pizza order that'd be timed to be ready when she'd be reaching the restaurant, so she could pick it up with it still reasonably hot and bring it home; you wouldn't think there'd be any way to make something so simple into a battle, but she's unusually talented in that area, so she found a way... she'd play games with what time I was supposed to ask them to have the pizza ready by, in a attempt to trick me into picking an improper time so that she could then complain that the pizza was cold, or not ready, and then hammer me about it for the next month. Not being a fool, I'd dig my heels in and insist that she give a specific time, not a group of times, not a range of times, but ONE specific time, and after a few rounds of guessing games she'd normally give in... but one memorable time she didn't:
Her: I'm not sure what time I'll get out, and then I'm not sure what the traffic will be like, so I can't give an exact time.
Me: Nevertheless, you have to give me an exact time to give the pizza place.
Her: I might miss the worst of the traffic, but then again I might not, so I can't give an exact time.
Me: You still have to choose an exact time for me to give the pizza place.
Her: I might have to stay a little longer to help close up, but I won't know until after we're closed, so I can't give you a exact time.
Me: I'm not inventing a time that's guaranteed to be wrong, and then it's MY fault that the pizza's not done when you want it to be; YOU come up with a time, and then if it's wrong it can't be blamed on me.
Her: Fine, then we just won't HAVE pizza!! {smashes the phone down}
And that's not even the psycho part; several hours later, I was at home, reading in my room, when the phone rang:
Her: So where's the pizza?
Me: What pizza?
Her: Did you screw up and order it at the wrong place?
Me: No, the last thing I heard from you was that we weren't HAVING pizza.
Her: No, I called and told you to order pizza!!
Me: No, you called about pizza, refused to give me a time, declared that there would be NO pizza, slammed the phone down, and never called back to tell me anything different.
Her: {smashes the phone down}
When she arrived home, she was frothing at the mouth about my not having ordered the pizza that she'd said we weren't having, going on about how she'd told everyone at the pizza place how stupid *I* was for not placing an order I'd never been given permission and the information to place, and she repeated her nonsense over and over, never admitting that she'd retracted the offer of pizza and never countermanded that final decree, no matter how many times she was reminded... and for MONTHS afterwards, there was an additional battle about what for everyone else in the world is a trivially simple task; she'd make nasty comments about my not "forgetting" to place the order, and I'd respond with reminders of what actually happened before, and tell her that if she pulled a similar stunt there'd be no pizza AGAIN.
For all her bluster at me about the incident, she NEVER used that degree of game-playing with ordering pizza again; at least on some level, she DID know that she'd been the one at fault, and felt it necessary to be endlessly belligerent about it to try to steamroller me into forgetting the facts... which never worked, but that didn't stop her from trying.
That memory came back to me this evening as I was cheerfully slurping up pizza that my husband had brought home; it amazes me how normal dealing with my mother's psychoses used to feel... and how much better my life is without her as a regular part of it.
Thursday, September 22, 2005
How far would you go...
... to discover the unknown?
On the DVD for "The Ring 2" is a short called "Rings," which is a preface to the movie; it shows how groups of people, calling themselves "rings," have obtained the tape that leads to your gruesome death 7 days after you watch it unless you copy it and show it to someone else, and are watching it 1 by 1, recording in detail all their increasingly intense experiences with the paranormal, and seeing how long they can withstand the fear before they pass the tape along to the next person in the ring.
If the situation were real, would YOU watch the tape?
If you answered "yes," consider:
What if the next person in the ring chickened out? What if you couldn't find a replacement in time? What if you were in a car wreck, and the 7 days ran out as you lay in a hospital bed?
What if the person after you in the ring had some similar problem, leading to THEIR death... could you live with that? What if the problem befell the person after that, or the one after that... how far would your moral responsibility extend?
I don't suppose too many people would take those sorts of risks even to know the unimaginable, so let's remove death from the equation; let's say instead that you could stop the paranormal events at any time by destroying the tape, and that at the end of 7 days, if you lasted that long, there'd be nothing beyond the most terrifying event of them all, after which your life would go on as before... then would you watch the tape?
What if what you experienced drove you crazy? What if it gave you screaming nightmares for the rest of your life? What if it left you so shaken that you'd never be able to regain a cheerful, ordinary existence? What if knowing what lay just under the skin of reality left you so afraid that you could never be in the dark, or be alone, or look into a mirror and see what might be behind you, for as long as you lived without being paralyzed by terror?
Would the knowledge still be worth it?
There are plenty of thrill-seekers who'd still go for it, because they're used to not letting the possible consequences bother them, and there are those so desperate to know it all, even the scariest aspects of the unknown, that they'd dive right in. And those who are self-destructive, or nuts, might embrace the possibility of being swallowed up by interior darkness and be eager to do it. Heck, my husband said he'd do it, just for the adventure of it... sometimes I wonder if we're even the same species.
And finally, let's say that none of the entities you'd encounter would be threatening, none of the things you'd experience would be intrinsically scary... then would you watch the tape? I think MOST people would go for it now, don't you? You'd see some wild stuff, learn about what else is out there, none of which is "bad," and nothing would harm you; why not go for it?
Some people would refuse, of course, for religious reasons, or because their lives can't be interrupted by random paranormal occurrences (surgeons, for example, can't afford to be startled in mid-operation), etc, but I'd refuse for a reason few would think of; because I've always had the gut feeling that focusing on "other beings" of any sort draws their attention to you, which could easily end up with you wishing you hadn't contemplated them... and just imagine what the result could be if you essentially invited them to come into your life in various intrusive ways-what makes you think they'd ever just forget about you and leave you be for the rest of your life?
Or that other, perhaps less benign, things might not follow them to you, and start hanging around as well?
Exploring the unknown is a 2-edged sword, because it'd be the height of arrogance to think that there are no other sentient beings in all the universes except us, or that none of those other beings are more powerful than we are, and it'd be the height of foolishness to believe that none of them would be curious and/or belligerent enough to be interested in messing with humans like little boys poking ant hills with sticks; by learning too much about the tapestry of karma, one runs the risk of becoming TOO perceptive, and seeing things best left unseen... things that can see you back.
I want to know "The Truth," but I want to have a happy life and sleep well at night, too; I wouldn't TOUCH that hypothetical tape, or do anything else that'd put me closer to whatever might exist that needs to STAY unknown, not even if you paid me. Is it possible to know everything about the unknown EXCEPT that stuff? Perhaps not; it's going to be food for thought as my spiritual path progresses, count on it.
On the DVD for "The Ring 2" is a short called "Rings," which is a preface to the movie; it shows how groups of people, calling themselves "rings," have obtained the tape that leads to your gruesome death 7 days after you watch it unless you copy it and show it to someone else, and are watching it 1 by 1, recording in detail all their increasingly intense experiences with the paranormal, and seeing how long they can withstand the fear before they pass the tape along to the next person in the ring.
If the situation were real, would YOU watch the tape?
If you answered "yes," consider:
What if the next person in the ring chickened out? What if you couldn't find a replacement in time? What if you were in a car wreck, and the 7 days ran out as you lay in a hospital bed?
What if the person after you in the ring had some similar problem, leading to THEIR death... could you live with that? What if the problem befell the person after that, or the one after that... how far would your moral responsibility extend?
I don't suppose too many people would take those sorts of risks even to know the unimaginable, so let's remove death from the equation; let's say instead that you could stop the paranormal events at any time by destroying the tape, and that at the end of 7 days, if you lasted that long, there'd be nothing beyond the most terrifying event of them all, after which your life would go on as before... then would you watch the tape?
What if what you experienced drove you crazy? What if it gave you screaming nightmares for the rest of your life? What if it left you so shaken that you'd never be able to regain a cheerful, ordinary existence? What if knowing what lay just under the skin of reality left you so afraid that you could never be in the dark, or be alone, or look into a mirror and see what might be behind you, for as long as you lived without being paralyzed by terror?
Would the knowledge still be worth it?
There are plenty of thrill-seekers who'd still go for it, because they're used to not letting the possible consequences bother them, and there are those so desperate to know it all, even the scariest aspects of the unknown, that they'd dive right in. And those who are self-destructive, or nuts, might embrace the possibility of being swallowed up by interior darkness and be eager to do it. Heck, my husband said he'd do it, just for the adventure of it... sometimes I wonder if we're even the same species.
And finally, let's say that none of the entities you'd encounter would be threatening, none of the things you'd experience would be intrinsically scary... then would you watch the tape? I think MOST people would go for it now, don't you? You'd see some wild stuff, learn about what else is out there, none of which is "bad," and nothing would harm you; why not go for it?
Some people would refuse, of course, for religious reasons, or because their lives can't be interrupted by random paranormal occurrences (surgeons, for example, can't afford to be startled in mid-operation), etc, but I'd refuse for a reason few would think of; because I've always had the gut feeling that focusing on "other beings" of any sort draws their attention to you, which could easily end up with you wishing you hadn't contemplated them... and just imagine what the result could be if you essentially invited them to come into your life in various intrusive ways-what makes you think they'd ever just forget about you and leave you be for the rest of your life?
Or that other, perhaps less benign, things might not follow them to you, and start hanging around as well?
Exploring the unknown is a 2-edged sword, because it'd be the height of arrogance to think that there are no other sentient beings in all the universes except us, or that none of those other beings are more powerful than we are, and it'd be the height of foolishness to believe that none of them would be curious and/or belligerent enough to be interested in messing with humans like little boys poking ant hills with sticks; by learning too much about the tapestry of karma, one runs the risk of becoming TOO perceptive, and seeing things best left unseen... things that can see you back.
I want to know "The Truth," but I want to have a happy life and sleep well at night, too; I wouldn't TOUCH that hypothetical tape, or do anything else that'd put me closer to whatever might exist that needs to STAY unknown, not even if you paid me. Is it possible to know everything about the unknown EXCEPT that stuff? Perhaps not; it's going to be food for thought as my spiritual path progresses, count on it.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
What does working harder get you?
I could have left this post blank to answer the question symbolically, to mean that working harder gets you NOTHING... but that wouldn't be totally accurate, as obviously sometimes working hard DOES get rewarded... as long as the hard work is of the sort that whoever's in authority over you cares about, and they like you well enough to reward you for it, and there isn't someone else who worked harder or more skillfully or is liked better by those in authority... and then we're back to how working harder usually doesn't lead to getting anything extra.
What got me thinking about this was a Dilbert cartoon
http://www.comics.com/comics/dilbert/archive/dilbert-20050917.html
in which a disheveled Dilbert, who got stuck doing all of Ted's work as well as his own, says to the boss, "I didn't think it was possible, but for the past month I've done my own job plus Ted's, and done them well. I know that you're marveling at my accomplishment and wondering how you can reward me. I'll bet we're thinking of the same bonus amount!" And what's the boss thinking in response to all this? "Maybe I can fire Carl and make this idiot do his job too."
The strip is funny because:
1) We've all gotten the idea somehow that doing more work will get us benefits, when in reality we KNOW it hardly ever does.
2) Despite what we ourselves believe, we see that belief in others as naive and amusing.
3) We've nearly all experienced situations where people judge those who exert more effort than necessary in an unflattering light, either as foolish, or as brown-nosers, or as trying to make others look bad (try to think of any times that your fellow students, siblings, co-workers or other peer group saw that you'd done extra work and viewed that as praiseworthy, and you'll see what I mean.)
4) We've also nearly all experienced doing extra work in the expectation that an authority (parent, teacher or boss) would find it laudatory, only to discover that they:
a) Didn't notice.
b) Didn't care.
c) Decided that this demonstration of our ability to do more work meant that we should:
(i) Continue to do that level of work as our normal workload.
(ii) As in the Dilbert strip, be given even MORE work, since we've apparently got so much free time to do other tasks.
d) In the case of my parents and other psychos, see the work done, the initiative taken, as opportunities for criticism... and this is often part of the military mentality as well, wherein you're supposed to not vary from your assigned tasks and the exact orders you were given (and yes, my father was a military man).
5) We understand in general that we get rewarded based on the esteem in which authority figures hold us, which is virtually NEVER based on how much work we do (although it IS sometimes based on the skill or speed with which we accomplish our work).
In school, the highest grades, and the awards, scholarships, etc, went to those kids who were the smartest or most athletic, NOT those who worked the hardest (with the teachers' pets always having an extra edge, which also wasn't gained from hard work), and in the workplace the $ and promotions go to those that the higher-ups like best, to those with the ability to best produce measurable sorts of achievements like the most sales or accounts (which usually DO involve hard work, but generally go to those with the best people skills and connections rather than to the hardest workers), and even to those with seniority... but NEVER as a reward for just working hard, or for working harder than required or expected.
I used to knock myself out for people, and, not only did I never get anything in return, not even gratitude or recognition, but they expected me to ALWAYS make that effort for them with them doing nothing to compensate me for it; it was a ridiculous setup, and I've spent years gradually backing away from it, so that now what I do for others closely matches what they've demonstrated a willingness to do for ME... and no one can complain about getting less, because they know it'd make them hypocrites. If someone wants more from me, they have to ASK, which means they have to make a case to me AND THEMSELVES that the extra effort is important, and thus provide compensation, or at least overt gratitude, when it's done. I've learned that amazingly few things are valuable enough to others to make it worth even so little from them as making a request, and therefore not remotely worth me doing them on my own initiative, and that by making a request necessary I've taught them to view me as someone whose time is valuable, and to whom tasks do NOT just get casually tossed, but who needs to be approached with respect to obtain my efforts.
But I used to be like Dilbert, so thank you Scott Adams for a big laugh... at my former self.
What got me thinking about this was a Dilbert cartoon
http://www.comics.com/comics/dilbert/archive/dilbert-20050917.html
in which a disheveled Dilbert, who got stuck doing all of Ted's work as well as his own, says to the boss, "I didn't think it was possible, but for the past month I've done my own job plus Ted's, and done them well. I know that you're marveling at my accomplishment and wondering how you can reward me. I'll bet we're thinking of the same bonus amount!" And what's the boss thinking in response to all this? "Maybe I can fire Carl and make this idiot do his job too."
The strip is funny because:
1) We've all gotten the idea somehow that doing more work will get us benefits, when in reality we KNOW it hardly ever does.
2) Despite what we ourselves believe, we see that belief in others as naive and amusing.
3) We've nearly all experienced situations where people judge those who exert more effort than necessary in an unflattering light, either as foolish, or as brown-nosers, or as trying to make others look bad (try to think of any times that your fellow students, siblings, co-workers or other peer group saw that you'd done extra work and viewed that as praiseworthy, and you'll see what I mean.)
4) We've also nearly all experienced doing extra work in the expectation that an authority (parent, teacher or boss) would find it laudatory, only to discover that they:
a) Didn't notice.
b) Didn't care.
c) Decided that this demonstration of our ability to do more work meant that we should:
(i) Continue to do that level of work as our normal workload.
(ii) As in the Dilbert strip, be given even MORE work, since we've apparently got so much free time to do other tasks.
d) In the case of my parents and other psychos, see the work done, the initiative taken, as opportunities for criticism... and this is often part of the military mentality as well, wherein you're supposed to not vary from your assigned tasks and the exact orders you were given (and yes, my father was a military man).
5) We understand in general that we get rewarded based on the esteem in which authority figures hold us, which is virtually NEVER based on how much work we do (although it IS sometimes based on the skill or speed with which we accomplish our work).
In school, the highest grades, and the awards, scholarships, etc, went to those kids who were the smartest or most athletic, NOT those who worked the hardest (with the teachers' pets always having an extra edge, which also wasn't gained from hard work), and in the workplace the $ and promotions go to those that the higher-ups like best, to those with the ability to best produce measurable sorts of achievements like the most sales or accounts (which usually DO involve hard work, but generally go to those with the best people skills and connections rather than to the hardest workers), and even to those with seniority... but NEVER as a reward for just working hard, or for working harder than required or expected.
I used to knock myself out for people, and, not only did I never get anything in return, not even gratitude or recognition, but they expected me to ALWAYS make that effort for them with them doing nothing to compensate me for it; it was a ridiculous setup, and I've spent years gradually backing away from it, so that now what I do for others closely matches what they've demonstrated a willingness to do for ME... and no one can complain about getting less, because they know it'd make them hypocrites. If someone wants more from me, they have to ASK, which means they have to make a case to me AND THEMSELVES that the extra effort is important, and thus provide compensation, or at least overt gratitude, when it's done. I've learned that amazingly few things are valuable enough to others to make it worth even so little from them as making a request, and therefore not remotely worth me doing them on my own initiative, and that by making a request necessary I've taught them to view me as someone whose time is valuable, and to whom tasks do NOT just get casually tossed, but who needs to be approached with respect to obtain my efforts.
But I used to be like Dilbert, so thank you Scott Adams for a big laugh... at my former self.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Psychic flash and a scare
I got 10 hours of sleep last night; I'm wondering if being more rested increases telepathic sensitivity, because I had a powerful psychic urge today, which is noteworthy since I just had a precognitive insight yesterday... pretty much every other mental function is adversely affected by tiredness and improved by getting enough sleep, so why not this one, right? (If so, that'd mean that these perceptions DO come via the brain, rather than the soul as some suggest... unless the soul gets tired too? hmmmmmmmmmmmm)
I was about to place a bid on eBay, and as usual had decided long in advance how much I was going to bid; $10. As I went to enter that amount, which was well above the current tiny bid amount, my inner voice (it's not actually a voice per se, it's more like a wordless certainty, but the latter makes no sense to those who haven't experienced it, so it's easier to call it my IV) spoke up:
IV: $12
Me: $10
IV: $12
Me: I only bid in round #'s; $10.
IV: $12
Me: Why does it have to be $12?
IV: Because SHE bid $12.
Me: The current bid's only $3, and I can't imagine many people would think this is worth...
IV: She bid $12.
This is why we're so unable to be certain, as a species, about the validity of psychic phenomena; even those of us who know better will STILL try to argue away the insights we receive, because we're so saturated with the idea of "if science can't see it then it doesn't exist" that we can't accept the gifts of karma. Luckily, I caught myself at it, and decided to listen to the inner voice; if the other bidder had bid $12, then *I* had to bid $12... plus the 1¢ extra that I add to every bid, to make sure I go over any bids of the same amount, of course. I placed the bid... and eBay showed my bid as $12.01.
She HAD bid $12.
No matter how many times it happens, it still amazes me.
And now for the scare: My husband and I were settling in for dinner, and I grabbed for a napkin, and inexplicably got 2; I separated them, and saw that the bottom one had...
... a LARVA squirming on it!! AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!
While I shrieked in disgust, my husband fumbled for something to kill it with, then realized that it was on a NAPKIN, and wadded it up and crushed the filthy thing. I flung the other napkin, that the larva had been stuck to, at him (and he USED it without a qualm, GAG), and extracted a new one... which I naturally examined VERY carefully before using. All we can figure is that the larva had been crawling on the ceiling, and decided to break with the standard larval plan of dropping onto my keyboard and jump into the napkins instead.
What I really need is the psychic ability to ferret out all vermin BEFORE they try to get on me; sadly, I don't think that one exists... but who knows what I might accomplish if I keep sleeping this much? ;-)
I was about to place a bid on eBay, and as usual had decided long in advance how much I was going to bid; $10. As I went to enter that amount, which was well above the current tiny bid amount, my inner voice (it's not actually a voice per se, it's more like a wordless certainty, but the latter makes no sense to those who haven't experienced it, so it's easier to call it my IV) spoke up:
IV: $12
Me: $10
IV: $12
Me: I only bid in round #'s; $10.
IV: $12
Me: Why does it have to be $12?
IV: Because SHE bid $12.
Me: The current bid's only $3, and I can't imagine many people would think this is worth...
IV: She bid $12.
This is why we're so unable to be certain, as a species, about the validity of psychic phenomena; even those of us who know better will STILL try to argue away the insights we receive, because we're so saturated with the idea of "if science can't see it then it doesn't exist" that we can't accept the gifts of karma. Luckily, I caught myself at it, and decided to listen to the inner voice; if the other bidder had bid $12, then *I* had to bid $12... plus the 1¢ extra that I add to every bid, to make sure I go over any bids of the same amount, of course. I placed the bid... and eBay showed my bid as $12.01.
She HAD bid $12.
No matter how many times it happens, it still amazes me.
And now for the scare: My husband and I were settling in for dinner, and I grabbed for a napkin, and inexplicably got 2; I separated them, and saw that the bottom one had...
... a LARVA squirming on it!! AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!
While I shrieked in disgust, my husband fumbled for something to kill it with, then realized that it was on a NAPKIN, and wadded it up and crushed the filthy thing. I flung the other napkin, that the larva had been stuck to, at him (and he USED it without a qualm, GAG), and extracted a new one... which I naturally examined VERY carefully before using. All we can figure is that the larva had been crawling on the ceiling, and decided to break with the standard larval plan of dropping onto my keyboard and jump into the napkins instead.
What I really need is the psychic ability to ferret out all vermin BEFORE they try to get on me; sadly, I don't think that one exists... but who knows what I might accomplish if I keep sleeping this much? ;-)
Monday, September 19, 2005
A precognitive possum dream
The Joel Osteen sermon tonight was a repeat again, so he must be on vacation; the message was still a good one, about how we should wake up every day with a blank slate emotionally, having forgiven and forgotten all the hurts of the previous day to "allow" God to give us the even better stuff that He has in store for us... or, from a karmic viewpoint, clear out all the negative thoughts and emotions so that they don't generate negative karma and prevent good things from getting to us.
Last night I slept for 11 hours, and 1 of my dreams was that there were TWO possums on the patio instead of just the 1 who's been coming several times a night for the past couple of months (see my post of 9-15-05), despite the fact that we've NEVER seen any other possums in our area, much less on our property; I woke up with a surge of hope that maybe we WOULD be getting a new visitor, but as is so often the case with precognition, it seemed so unlikely that the tendency was to dismiss it as wishful thinking... but I'm pleased to say that I was RIGHT. I heard possumish chomping as I was typing away on my laptop, and looked up already crooning hellos to the possum... only to stop in mid-croon as I realized that this was NOT our possum, but one far smaller, with darker fur and strikingly different facial markings. I immediately assumed that this one was female, although it could just as easily be a younger male; fantasies of possum courtship and a pouchful of tiny possumettes come spring began surging through my besotted brain. As the night progressed, the possums alternated feeding times, until, at a point when the female was here, I wondered why they weren't on the patio at the same time as in the dream... at which point the male showed up.
And chased her away!! :-(
We were VERY dismayed at his behavior, and can only hope that she'll hang around anyways to maintain access to the bountiful food supply available here, and that he'll eventually become more accepting of her; we'll always love him the best, but 2 possums would be twice the fun... and if she's still around when mating season arrives, there's a good chance he'll see her in a new light, and then maybe we could still have possumettes.
Is there any reasonable chance that it's a coincidence that I dreamed of 2 possums on the same day that we 1st GOT 2 possums? Of course not... and this is the most thrilling precognitive event I've had in ages.
Last night I slept for 11 hours, and 1 of my dreams was that there were TWO possums on the patio instead of just the 1 who's been coming several times a night for the past couple of months (see my post of 9-15-05), despite the fact that we've NEVER seen any other possums in our area, much less on our property; I woke up with a surge of hope that maybe we WOULD be getting a new visitor, but as is so often the case with precognition, it seemed so unlikely that the tendency was to dismiss it as wishful thinking... but I'm pleased to say that I was RIGHT. I heard possumish chomping as I was typing away on my laptop, and looked up already crooning hellos to the possum... only to stop in mid-croon as I realized that this was NOT our possum, but one far smaller, with darker fur and strikingly different facial markings. I immediately assumed that this one was female, although it could just as easily be a younger male; fantasies of possum courtship and a pouchful of tiny possumettes come spring began surging through my besotted brain. As the night progressed, the possums alternated feeding times, until, at a point when the female was here, I wondered why they weren't on the patio at the same time as in the dream... at which point the male showed up.
And chased her away!! :-(
We were VERY dismayed at his behavior, and can only hope that she'll hang around anyways to maintain access to the bountiful food supply available here, and that he'll eventually become more accepting of her; we'll always love him the best, but 2 possums would be twice the fun... and if she's still around when mating season arrives, there's a good chance he'll see her in a new light, and then maybe we could still have possumettes.
Is there any reasonable chance that it's a coincidence that I dreamed of 2 possums on the same day that we 1st GOT 2 possums? Of course not... and this is the most thrilling precognitive event I've had in ages.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
The oddest "religious" dream yet
I didn't quite manage 12 hours of sleep, as I woke up after 11.5, but I still feel like a whole new person today; as a bonus, I had one of the occasional "religious" dreams that baffle my NON-religious waking mind... and this time there was some pretty blatant symbolism in it:
The 1st thing I remember isn't really clear, but for some reason I was involved in some sort of search with legendary pop psychologist Dr. Phil; I don't know what we were looking for, and I didn't recognize where we were-it was sort of surreal, as dreamscapes often are. Eventually, we were in a big building, with me up on an interior balcony or ledge of some kind, and him in a large room adjacent to the room the balcony was in; there was a huge pile of dark stuff on the floor, dirt and sticks and unidentifiable chunks, and he was trying to... do something with or to it, I couldn't tell what. He apparently failed, gave up, and walked away; once he was out of sight, from out of the wall appeared a gigantic hand, easily 20 feet long, made of something with a yellow-orange glow like a hot coal... my immediate thought was, "that's the hand of God." The hand motioned over the pile, and a glowing figure began to form, also about 20 feet long, and as it was taking shape I thought, "Jesus." It gets bizarre here; once it was completed, the outline of the figure reminded me of Dopey, one of the 7 dwarves from "Snow White."
The glowing figure came under the balcony and looked up at me, asking if I wanted to come down; I did, but there was no stairway or other way to get there... so he extended a finger, which grew until it was all the way up with me, and thick enough to look like it'd support my weight, and I grabbed onto it (it felt vaguely insubstantial), and was gently transported to the ground at his feet (yes, I'm aware of the potentially sexual symbolism of a long, growing cylindrical thing coming from a male figure, but sometimes a cigar is just a cigar). I was standing leaning slightly against his legs (I felt a little disoriented), looking up at him, with him about as tall compared to me as an adult would be to a small child, and he asked me if I wanted him to change forms; I said I did, and the glow dimmed but didn't vanish as he shifted to a fairly standard Jesus image, except with blonde hair... I thought that he should be brunette, as he's usually pictured, but figured that the light he emitted might make the darker color impossible somehow.
All I have after that is the faint recollection that we were going to go somewhere, do something together... I wish I could remember what.
So, we have Dr. Phil, representing the intellectual, rational and analytical, failing to use "analytical power" to do something with a jumble of "stuff," and God showing up and succeeding at "creating order out of chaos," physically and presumably spiritually speaking, which fairly screams the message "Analyzing the unknown won't give you the answer, because God is the answer"; I'd really like to know what part of my mind THAT idea came from, and if it's trying to get through to me or is just reflecting some primitive part of my brain that likes the idea of a deity (??!!). We have Jesus starting out looking like "Dopey," but then "rescuing" me, "bringing me to him," and then taking his familiar form (which was no more his true form than the other, because that glowing stuff could've taken any shape); the entire Christianity thing certainly looked "dopey" to me for most of my life... and now? I expect my Christian friends to tell me that the dream means that I know the truth somewhere deep down, but that can't be it...
... could it?
