Environmental Deprivation

Just when what you think is, isn't and how sometimes even the party with the best intent can be as foul. The environment has been a cause of much anxiety since the last decade. In fact, it has become alarmingly so. But what is involved in the whole issue are more lobbying and even more concerns about financing and policies; and disgustingly, perpetrated by the environmentalists themselves. US senator of Oklahoma, James M. Inhofe says this in his speech.

Here are some articles concerning the Kyoto Protocol of 1997: the framework as well as a Wikipedia entry. Of interest is also a list of events that marked the Kyoto Protocol's entry into force. Best check out the UN website for more information.

Come to think of it, I'm going to take time out to read up on this issue. There is too much disinformation concerning it to be befuddled by too many sides.

Loopy Lunar

Noticed the moon phase? It's going to be a dark moon soon. In fact, according to my calculation, it will be on the 8; two more days, bunchkins. Great time for some to 'go within' and seek and destroy their inner demons. Some, like the Balinese will produce an offering appropriate for the phase. It is a bulan tilem to them. 15 Kadasa 1927 according to their calendar on Babad Bali, which I find so complex that it managed to revive all my Additional Maths anxieties whenever I try to figure out its cryptic meaning. Of course, A. has managed not only to understand the bloody things [there are two calendars, you know] but also memorised the important festivals. Wonder what he'll say about this tilem... Anyhow, it is Mendangkundang, and guarded over by Sanghyang Basuki. Could I offer an explanation of that? No, of course not! I just said it too resembled Additional Maths!

It is now the morning of my favourite day, Freyja's Day. A woman's day, as some God will say, and the skies are all but grey. I am feeling somewhat peckish, last night's supper of my home-made Aglia Olio [sic.] seemed to have burnt itself out. So Murni calleth, with its half-heartedly cooked noodles and vermicelli...

Anyway, back to the Old Ways — after food of course...

CSS Crazy

It's coffee, cigarettes and CSS these past few nights. It's virtually a crash course in HTML and CSS for me, particularly CSS, seeing that is the designing part and I somehow aspire to design. Hence so much for keeping with the Old Ways... or the Old Ones, for that matter, but I should not be so disrespectful.

Again, today was another wait for things to come. As well as tending to various animals with their particular moods. The ferals seem to know to take their fights away from the compound to the back alley, where they know my control holds no sway. I'm sure it's the Shit Monster, well, his spots are the colour of shit anyway. I wonder if one could put a curse on a cat.

I should endeavour to make a banten for the Hidden Ones, seeing it's Wednesday. More coconut leaves to cut and weave and blossoms to harvest. Then, make note: a spell for breaking barriers, of sorts. And another note to do research on Philosophy, seeing I never had a class on that one. Especially Empedocles, seeing that Robin and Oengus had been going on about him in isolation of others... Which means starting on a wonderful research in Philosophy... Eastern or Western, or both.

Gods, I am weary now, CSS has really beaten my brain into bits.

I think I will have more cigs and more café:

"laisse-moi boire mon café
laisse-moi boire mon café, yeah
let me drink my coffee
let me drink my coffee, yeah"

Then I have to restrain Slops from doing a handstand on the stairs — sigh — cats...

Cat's Blood

Toutatis arrived after being gone for more than 12 hours, which was peculiar seeing that he is always around the compound. As all the six cats gathered for their dinner, I noticed a drop of wine red liquid on the mosaic floor. I had not served wine to the Old Ones recently and this drop seemed more brown than wine purple. I quick look around Tou-tout revealed a lesion in his right buttock, and it was staining his beige fur. The Brown Monster was certainly busy, I think.

I stauched up the bleeding as well as I could, with Tou-tout trying his best to avoid me, and I dabbed calendula cream over the wound. Now instead of bleeding, the blood pooled around the wound and hopefully, by tomorrow, it would have dried somewhat.

But the Brown Monster must be dealt with ere he attacks again and perhaps Sloppy may this time be the victim. A trap? A lasso? A snare? The ways are endless but to find the more humane one is difficult; I prefer to deal with him in a more psychological manner than physical.

Waning Moon

It rose large and halved last night, wreathed by some puffy clouds and filtered into a rust-coloured hue, thanks to the haze. I was wondering how to get around doing anything at this time. A. and I had a talk about Fate and Free-will. About how Islam views accepting one's Fate as to make the best out of it. And that divination can sometimes be a reflection of the Word of Allah, yet could very well be manipulated by Syaitan. Hence the idea of truths within lies.

Quite distinct from how I view Fate and divination. Of course, Fate to me is closer to the Nordic myth of the Wyrd Sisters and that divination is not so different from a financial forecast, which is sort of like economics. It is a true projection, ceteris paribus, of one's actions at the current moment. And all our actions are threads woven in a vast tapestry of life by the Great Dame. Free-will goes so far as in the choices we make, yet even within the choices, we are limited by Fate.

Hence, once an action is changed, the outcome from a divination reading becomes less accurate, but because we are bound by our choices, the overall trend is still the same. How we achieve the ends and when we achieve the ends are relative, but the ends are always the same.

Back to the moon. Waning calls for the diminishing of something, according to craftings, hence perhaps I may seek to find if I have barriers within me or around me, and work towards ridden them for better 'flow of energy', as the New Agers will say.

The Light from Above!!!

It was a darkening Tuesday evening last, not because the world was retreating into the night, but because the skies were threatening thunderstorms. The air was charged, the winds were winding their flutes as they whistle pass trees. Leaves skitter at the park as Max the Inconquerable proceeded to plough his way widdershins around the field, dragging a very harrassed person — namely me — as he sniffs out odd patches on the ground and root of trees. Then after a few seconds of twisting and turning, he leaks thin streams of his piss upon his various chosen spots, a shot of his grafitti upon the public facilities that he considers his own.

As we padded back smart and fast before the skies descend, I was reminded of my state, but thought that thinking that route would surely lead to a hemlock path. Or rather a datura overdose. But then this is me, and I decided to make it on time for Body Combat ere the heavens open.

Within less than an hour, I was peddling half-heartedly towards the LRT, cursing the jaywalkers and 2-fast-2-furious extras that I always encounter on the road; somehow, they seem worse today. Once in the studio, with the pounding music to BC 18 (drat, I hate that release) I was still relieved that it has not rained yet. With my senses reassured, I trotted off for a quick shower.

It was only when I came down did I realise the full intensity of the storm. Chants, cajoling pleas and bursts of anger directed at the Wind Lords brought only more intense lightning, rain and winds. This lasted for more than half an hour as I fumed under the covered driveway of Axis Tower. After that, as if disinterested, the winds and lightning blew off to some other corner of the city to wreck havoc, leaving only a steady pounding rainfall to finish up the mess.

By the time I arrived at a very dark house, soaked to my skin [not to mention falling off my bicycle] Max had managed to spirit himself into the living room leaving some torn papers on the floor. Thanks to the thunder, Slops was in her Control Centre/Bomb Shelter so she was safe and sound.

I put Max back to the back, which was surprisingly drier than I thought it would be and rushed upstairs — only to find the computer had jammed, the network card useless and the router modem fried.

Hence things to remember from this Troublesome Tuesday:
1) Never forget to switch off EVERYTHING before leaving the house.
2) Must find a way to better placate a storm... has to be a better way than chillies on rooftops.

Heh...

Winding Threads

Deliver now, deliver me
From this hole;
A damp earthen tunnel
Like the closeness of a womb.

Or whatever... Hence begins a catalogue of my ways in the Craft. Old Ways to be made anew. What an antithesis.

They haven't called, yet I did not really bother to search for a right one. Herne's Magister mentioned that to be heard by the Hidden Ones, one has to shine brightly in one's life - like a beacon, for Them to take notice. Perhaps that is why I have not found the right way to the Gates of the Old Ones.

Yes, the journey begins here. And it will go on as a reflection of how I see the Ways of the Hound and how those ways can be channelled to strengthen and enlighten me. How new agey... sigh...

Signing out, at 08:44