Archive for September, 2013

On Racism, Neo-Nazism, and Everything that Bunches your Panties!

Posted in About me, Justice, On the Gods with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 26, 2013 by Tyrienne
I'm an equal opportunity hater.

I’m an equal opportunity hater.

Wow, that reaction to the last post was fast.   I was in the shower and it came to me “Great post, I’m proud of you- Now you need to quickly bury it with another on that other people want to hear about.”

Thanks, Loki.

So, this might come as a surprise to some of you, but did you know that each and every single member of the human race comes with a unique background, experiences, upbringing, education level, interests, and biases?  It is true!  Not only that, but most human beings HATE being classified into neat little boxes and discarded because they hold a point of view that is unpopular that thereby renders everything else they have to offer to the community as null and void!

So, the great, big topic in Heathenry these days is racism and the influence of the neo-nazi movement on our religion at large.  There are two sides to this great debate-  the “Folkish ‘ We’re not racists, we just hate black people'”  side, and the Universalist “Love everyone! Except for Nazi’s,  Or Else we’ll hate you!” side.

Hmmm.   Hard choice, there.   I would like to relay to you a prejudice that I have before I answer the question:

I DESPISE faux-blonde soccer moms in SUV’s.  I absolutely hate them.  Everytime I see one on the road, my blood boils- from their loud Ke$ha or KidsBOP music, to their screaming spawnlings in the back seats, to their inability to park in just one space.  I hate seeing them spend 20 minutes fondling their purses as I wait for a parking space at the China Buffet.  Bitch, I wear my keys on my belt with a climbing clip….if your purse is deep enough to fear purse coyotes sucking you into the depths of your Louis Vuitton special edition whore’s purse snatch syndicated bag ;  I will not only join organizations against your kind, but I will burn effigies of Life-size LaBoutin heels on your lawn until you move you and your hell-spawn back to some urban area where I never have to deal with the likes of your people again.

An older blonde. Purse Coyotes. I would pay to genetically engineer an army of them.

So, anyway, racists.   No.  I am not a racist.  I find the entire idea of race delightfully amusing in the “Aryan” community being a former student of Persian studies knowing that “Aryan” is a cognate of “Iranian” and “Caucasian” comes from the word “Caucus” referring to the mountain range which divides Turkey from Persia (aka Iran).

As in my last post there are people in this world I cannot stand- the above examples as well as the one in the previous post being on a list.  HOWEVER…this is how I actually feel.

I don’t care who you are friends with,  if you are friends with me, you can be sucking Hitler’s dick as long as you don’t expect me to do likewise.   Same thing goes for if you are friends with an Oathbreaker or a tiny blonde woman in a SUV.  If I am friends with you, I have no doubt made my stance on the matter clear-  I choose neither “Side”, but take each person as an individual to determine if they are worthy of my time. (Groupthink is bad, people…look it up). Your friends are not my friends.  You are my friend…unless I meet your friend and get to assess them with my personal judgement skills I have no right to judge them…. and even if you ARE friends with someone I dislike- guess what?


(again…friends with you, don’t care who you have lightsaber wars with your cock with)

Furthermore, the movement to annex the “Neo-Nazi’s” out of the community is a terrible idea considering that from an outsider’s perspective, the words of a Neo-Nazi Heathen are no less and no more viable than a non Neo-Nazi.

What I propose is this- if you want to make a difference in how people see the world…. TALK To THEM…but not with the express purpose of changing them, since that in underhanded and dishonorable.   The best way to deal with racism is to have an open dialogue about it.  If racist and non-racist mix, who knows?  Maybe we can all find something to hate together… like the war in the Middle East which has been eating all our resources in the US, or tiny little blonde women in great big SUV’s.

I have friends on both sides of this fence which would make both sides blanch in indignation.  “How COULD you?!”  I would be asked.  Easy… they run one hell of a sumbel/make awesome potpie/come out with interesting newsletters.

The key to unity and harmony is moving the focus AWAY from racism altogether and finding common ground- the more you focus on any difference, the more that difference shines and detracts away from any hope of reconciliation.

Politically, I belong to “The Troth”.  However, I have friends, good friends, who do not agree with “The Troth’s” stances on many issues…. and that is okay.

With that being said.  If anyone is interested in (metaphorically) burning down a Sephora store in a upscale shopping center (or even just zombie-flashmobbing one) let me know.

As for Loki- let it be also known that my Patron God has never singled out any group for hatred or spite- but instead has been both an equal opportunity lover and hater.



Shedding Skin

Posted in Justice, On the Gods with tags , , , , , , , , on September 26, 2013 by Tyrienne

I have learned many things in my 31 years on this Earth; the number 1 lesson is “No one likes the unvarnished Truth.”

The truth is, I’m likely more intelligent and articulate than most of you, truth is, I am more often right than when I am wrong- and when I am wrong I am honestly surprised and the first to apologize.  However, were I a concert violinist, no one would find it amiss if I were to state I am likely a better musician than you- however; should the topic change to thought processes, creativity, and pure reasoning power- well, there is a reason I have been plagiarized, feared, and harmed.   I can hold up a mirror and for my flaws in my memory, I can remember certain important facts that people do not want publicized.  In Green Lantern, even Synestro is known as a truth-teller and he’s the greatest enemy in the franchise (or at least the best known).  Like a snake, I am bored and I am listless…I itch as if I have skin I wish to shed….so I am going to do so in this post:

Fact #1.  I know locally famous “magician” who claims to work with light, but in fact was the same magician who introduced my husband and I to ancient Sumerian deities personally- and works with questionably “dark” sources without giving them their due.   Look, the whole light/dark dichotomy is an illusion in the first place- but to demonize both my husband and I for what is barely secret does nothing more than give Ed and I a sort of allure and Je ne sais quoi that makes us appear more exotic and desirable to get to know.  It’s backfiring; now we have people thinking we a couple of warlocks and more people want to meet us rather than less.  Baphomet and Lilith say “Hello ungrateful wretch,” by the by.

Fact #2.  I know a person who claims to be a College professor of Philosophy in a local technical institute who he himself has never set foot into a college for his own education….not only that, has disparaged my own education and does not even know the very foundations in Greek and Asian philosophy.  I would surprised if he could explain the analogy of “Plato’s Cave” without getting lost in the shadows, so to speak… and yet, he considers himself a great teacher and wonders why people blew off his classes.  Fact.  My husband also got him the job because he FAILED the personality test, then stole dozens of hours of Kung Fu lessons from my husband without compensation or fair exchange.  That is the fault of my husband; who was naive enough to allow it to happen.  Get with me; less naive, then the status quo changes.   Enjoy modifying your teaching style to your flavor of the week of people immensely more successful than you dyslexic, insecure, vitriolic fool.   If Yoga and macrobiotics are so good for you; please do, then, explain how your hairline continues to recede.  Unless you have compensated for that as well by explaining it gives your “Third eye more room to breathe.”

Fact #3.  Anti-Lokeans with no sense of humour.  My facebook audience is comprised of friends…and once it was friends and you.   So, we have a priestess and her oaf of a husband who have more reputation behind spreading rumors than they do for any positive influence they have contributed to the community.  Nice.  Enjoy holding fainings in bowl-o-rama’s and Starbucks’- Oh, wait, I forgot- nothing remotely Heathen is discussed at such events, but rather, it would be better served to be renamed the “Berks’c County Science Fiction Appreciation Society.”

Also-  A kindred with three people is a “Triad” not a “Kindred”.  Ed has debated appearing at one of your events for “old time’s sake” to see how you would all react to the “Great Necromancer” you have built him up to be- however, time is scarce when he is home as it is.

When I first moved to Reading I found my life to be entirely different- ignorance was bliss I suppose.  I didn’t lack for activity (we also had two cars then).  First after dealing from the backlash of the Dishonorable Oathbreaking Whore who shared her home with my husband and was upset I ruined her delusional plans to leave her husband for Ed.  Question:  If you want to leave your husband, why not leave him FIRST then pursue other men?   This is also a GREAT question for the other Oathbreaking whore I know.

Fact #4  I don’t like Oathbreakers.  At all.   I have had to single handedly combat the false stereotype of Lokeans everywhere being considered Oathbreakers by nature.  Loki is no Oathbreaker, I believe you have Him confused with Odin.  Where now there is a psuedo-academic running around on her new husband, making a huge show of it to the point where it is obvious to anyone with eyes, and I am told *I* should reach out to reconcile with the very thing that I myself am Oathed to combat?  Sweetheart,  being a Lokean doesn’t give your carte blanch to be a liar, nor a whore.   If you want to be a whore, Great!  I have no problem with whores, but don’t lie about it- release your husband from his contract made in bad faith, unpoison your well of Wyrd, and live polyamourously.   I don’t care how many papers you write, or how many events you create.

Oathbreaker, Oathbreaker, Oathbreaker.

I call you out and your community knows you.  Your husband is a hero and you are a little child pretending to be a woman pretending to be a edgy eternal collegiate whore.  I do not absolve you of your lies to me.  You did not break your oath by “Falling in love” with another man.  You broke your marriage vows by revolving your life around a man who is not your spouse.  Your kinsmen is little better for not confronting you directly as he oathed to US, but instead began the rumor mill surrounding you.   Keep proving to yourself you are clever enough to be a Lokean, but I don’t see it.

So, anyway, back to Reading.  This place is a cesspool of twisted fucks, backstabbers, and pretentious fools with more money than sense- especially in Wyomissing.   I want change, but I am stuck here for an entire year more.  I have dipped my toes into the pool of other communities, but time constrains me, as does lack of transport as well as attempting to live without marijuana as a promise to my spouse until it is legalized, sadly, most communities that interest me are woven together with hemp threads which forces me to be more wary than I would like.

Do you want to know my flaws?  Read my blog, I have listed them repeatedly-  I am a judgemental Tyrian with severe anxiety disorders seeking treatment.  I worry too much, I think more than I should and I trap myself in my own mind more often than I like.  But I am no liar, no Oathbreaker, nor am I twisted, hidden, or grossly attempting to hide my shame behind false legitimacy.

I seek help when I need it, and I admit when I’m wrong.  But after 31 years- let’s expedite this process a bit.  Instead of waiting a few years for the issues to have evaporated before you come before me with your hearts in your hands and your apologies, I challenge you to do it now- while things are still fresh, and I will take the parts pertaining to you down.

Little Lokeans, watch and learn.  THIS is flyting, and this is how to be a true Lokean.  Not by being deceptive, but by being the firelight before the mirror that exposes the weak to their own selves to where they cannot close their eyes and look away.

You know who you are.  I am bored, what better reason is there than that to stir things up a bit?  Also, I am in desperate search for a LEGITIMATE, kind Yoga studio, not in a gym, that does not charge an arm and a a leg for at least 3+ sessions per week.  If you are aware of one in Berks county, please advertize in the comments below.  There is no reason why yoga outside of this area goes for $60 a month and under- but here it averages to around $100 for the privilege of existing in this shitpit called Reading, Pa.



Posted in About me, On the Gods on September 4, 2013 by Tyrienne
From Wikipedia

From Wikipedia

My flashbacks don’t come as one memory, they begin as a though and spiral outward like a web connecting all traumas.  Today,  I woke up this morning to the sound of screaming within my own mind- in my dream, I was in a dark, dank prison rudely carved out of concrete with rusted rebar in the small, high windows at odd angles.  My hands were drawn above my head with course rope, my wrists caked in dried blood- and yes, I was clothed.  In fact, I was wearing quite a lot of clothing and all of it was uncomfortable….all I remember is one scream after the other- and being whipped through my clothing itself and how much pain and punishment had to be more real than the reality I had dreamt for myself…namely this one.

Thankfully, outside of dreaming this has never happened to me- but it did serve as a reminder of one of my “could-have-beens” should I have continued on the suicidal course of study I intended during my college years and my stubborn attempts to find some how, some way, to become a diplomatic liaison to a country we have taught to hate us.
Unlike my dream- it was my own country  that failed me, not the other one.  and my hands were not bound over my head, nor was I physically tortured- however, I was handcuffed to a chair for 5 hours and forced to do test after test, with each one I passed making the arresting officer lose greater and greater hold of his patience and decorum.
Next I am in a yoga studio, the lights are low and there are a total of three of us in the room- I am being verbally attacked, and I respond with an inner calmness that is coming from a place I cannot begin to describe nor call on at will.  Each question I answer calmly, with assurance, each response to my responses met with rising rage and frustration as I am called egotistical, deluded, and self-important.
Next, I am in my own home, my husband is being attacked this time- and that calmness is upon me again.  Each over emotional accusation is met by calm reason- which incites the abuser to more extravagant and emotionally charged insults until she is asked to leave and not return.  I don’t know what holds me together.
I am loading a dishwasher and I am 15 years old- and my mother screams at me for the order in which I am placing the dishes.  The person I loved most at the time overdosed the day before on a variety of drugs and suddenly, the world I am in looks ridiculous.  Being screamed at for dishes, for theses “things” when my friend, a real, human, being almost died for trying to find a way out of the pain and madness of life.  I laughed in her face and she slapped me.

I looked her in the eye and said “None of your shit matters anymore to me.” She slapped me across the face, and I laughed- so she slapped me again and I simply laughed at her again.  “Out of the two of us, you are the pathetic human being- if I can even call you human.”  and I walked away from her irrational, incoherent screaming.
I am a child of nine years old and I have baracaded my bedroom door with my dresser- and it is not working.  The Beast is still roaring on the other side, I can’t even call her mother- for her stench of constant menstration, her facial hair, her black teeth, and tiny blue eyes set into her skull like the eyes of a potato.  Her hair dark, lank, and smelling both unwashed and over perfumed.

“Let me in you little Bitch!” the beast roars,  I open the window- the screen is in and I cannot remove it- just then the dresser topples over my bed, the door rips off it’s hinges and the memory goes dark.
“Stop being such a baby,” said the dentist- I told him, that I was allergic to novacaine and he did not heed me as I writhed in the chair in pain as he drilled.
“Stop being so childish” said the gynocologist, “I have had 7 children and I can tell you that there are no nerves on the cervix from personal experience.”- as they removed half of mine with a scalpel and what looked like a small apple corer to place the remains in a jar of fluid.  I didn’t go back for years.
“Take the entire bottle- this *is* going to hurt- but your jaw is collapsing.  I can fix it today.”  It didn’t hurt at all, actually- I remember the Roy Orbison in the background “….anything you want, you got it-” as over 100 mg of valium coursed through my system along with Lidocaine, the correct dental drug was administered several times into the left side of my jaw and a small pin was inserted.  I lost more teeth that day on account of another surgeon’s mistake… a drill that went down too far during a wisdom tooth extraction.  If you ask me, you can feel the pin holding me together.  On the X-ray, today, it was barely visible and translucent.  I thought it was titanium, but now I am not so sure.  Did he make it out of my own bone? straight with a small barbell at each end.
I am in an office;

“Your attempts to discredit me have been thwarted.”
“I never tried to discredit you- but you have been avoiding me.”
“I have…other obligations.”
“I can’t believe you could think I would do anything to hurt you.”
“I can’t believe you thought me to be some kind of monster”
“You are no monster….you told me to talk to someone if I needed to talk, and Don was there- he helped me If I wanted to hurt you I wouldn’t have gone to professor retired”
“I am glad you have someone special to talk to you can trust.”
“No, It used to be you…it was always you I could trust.  This is killing us.”
I am in another office, my boss had left the company the  week before and I was being accused of sexual harrassment of a coworker I see once a week… I spent over a week trying to piece the story together..
She screamed “NOTHING I tell you should EVER leave this office again, understand?”
I replied calmly, “No,  I had false charges leveraged against me- I either had to clear my name or find out or be miserable here every day of my life.”

She had nothing to say- her lips pursed into a thin line as I was dismissed.  I remembered this when I called every agency I knew on that company after I was let go under false pretenses.  They didn’t used to have “layoffs” during quiet season.  Thanks to my lawyer, now they do.
I am in the courthouse, Ed is on one side of me and my lawyer, a different lawyer is on the other- on the window next to mine, separated by a short wall is a Hispanic man and his father.  “It was just my prescription medication…and I’m looking at 10 years.”
There was no sense of calmness nor decorum- I just sobbed uncontrollably into Ed’s shoulder to the point where his orange shirt was a mess of wet tear stains,  My lawyer held my hand through part of the proceedings and showed me pictures of his children.

The nurse held my hand just as I was about to go under anesthesia, “Are you sure you are okay?”
“Yes, I’m only scared- that’s all- just hold my hand.”

The doctor recognized me for the second time in the Emergency room, “Flashbacks, Ms. Wylder?”

“You could say that.” I was huddled in the corner of the bed with my arms wrapped around my legs.  A nurse came in with a long printout.

“Doctor- number four- Ketosis-”

I told the doctor to go onto the patient who actually needs him- I’ll just wait for the back room and the ambulance.  Just don’t take me to St. Lukes.


“So, tell me what it is that you study again?  Muhammad Iqbal?”  I didn’t answer  I just said “Please, give me the same doctor I had before, Dr. C.  I do not wish to talk about it right now it won’t help me.”


21:”I can’t talk to you anymore…not the way we used to.”

27: “You have to get out of here, promise me you will get out of here before I hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.  Oh God.  Please- just go- promise me you’ll go back to school, promise me you’ll be a chaplain.  Just don’t stay here.”

“I can’t go- then I would be leaving you here- alone, with them”

“There might not be a “me” anymore soon.  Please, Wylder….please just listen to me, listen to Steve- it’s not safe and I am so sorry.”
29:”Master Gulan sent me- he tells me you have a bad teacher.  Wait.  Please listen. I will teach you. I can teach you anything you want to know.  Forget him.  Let him out of you mind- he is poison- he means nothing.”

“He means something to me.”

“We’ll work on that- will you let me teach you?”

“Of course.”

(and it turned out teaching was not at all what he wanted, sorry Master Gulan, your pupil was not true to your faith, either.)


29:  “If I caused you any harm, It was not my intention. I want your forgiveness.”
“It makes no difference, You have my forgiveness.”
“I just want things to go back to normal”
“Even after I graduate?”
“Even then.”
“Khoda Hafez, A.  God be with you.”
“Khoda Hafez’

30: I am writing you to tell you I refuse to continue any correspondence with you unless you either A) Call me at this specific time and day, or B) You stop writing to me under an alias.

S/he responded first with rage, then with heartbreak, then with threats, and I saved them all.  Then I turned them into the Dean’s office.  I made him promise to try and get them help. I would never take legal action.  I was seeing a specialist on Stolkholm syndrome”


…and then, my mind grew into paths so dark that even writing them down makes me feel as if my fingers would bleed and my existence would shatter into wracking sobs.

Loki doesn’t test the way other Gods do.  Everyone is tested every day- if you get His attention- it’s not because you won some sort of prize, passed some finish line, or conquered some impossible goal.  It’s because he genuinely sees what you are- all of you, where you have been, and what you have been through and knows that you can understand Him.  As selfish as it sounds…any relationship with Loki is based on mutual understanding- a mutual respect and knowing there are things that are speakable and things unspeakable in this world.  Did you tell the truth?  Did you do your best?  But most of all- did you stare fear down in the face, and do what YOU thought needed to be done, regardless of the advice of others?  Is your heart at peace knowing you did all you could with what you had with the resources given- or are you a dog, guilt-shamed by a world of mindless beasts who judge you on inconsequential things.

Loki can judge because He has been judged.  Tyr can Judge because he is the God who has ever spoken only One lie.

And they both judge based on how you judge yourself…. and I look at myself today, I am whole in body and my spirit is still in shambled tatters- ripped by these things and so much more.  I have been touched by the foul and the disgusting and have closed my door on what and who I believe to be repugnant for the lies they tell themselves,  scholars, and people of high positions…
….then, I will open my door to the murderer, the convict, and the honest drug addicts.

I would share a horn with an honest person with a broken past and scarred soul before I would ever share a horn with one who puts on airs as they disease all they touch with their fouled wyrd in wicked contradictions… unless they should come clean about themselves.

…which they never do.

There are two types of people in this world.  The broken and the breakers….those who break, walk on the backs of the broken to achieve all they desire.  The broken learn to desire little more than comfort, understanding, and a safe place to call home….we do not desire or aspire to much anymore.  We are who We are…and our power lies in our honesty- you can beat us, you can lie about us, you can take everything but that last little inch- but integrity remains.

Some of us, if we are lucky, get to meet the Gods early- and after that, what greater accomplishment can possibly exist?  I have been held by Loki, danced with Hanuman, laughed with Ganesh, cried with Kuan Yin, and complied with the orders of Tyr.   I have perched on the throne of Freyja, and been rocked to sleep in the ancient, elderly arms of Inari.  I have sat at the feet of Cernunnos, and I have chased the tail of Anubis.

Shamans-  the truth is- we can’t pick just one religion- they are all true and they all make sense if you can see how the pieces fit together.  However, to see how each of the pieces works, you need to be destroyed by it all first- and the more broken you become by no fault of your own, the more the realm of the spirit makes sense.

Suddenly Found! The First list of Lokean Kennings!

Posted in About me on September 4, 2013 by Tyrienne

Thanks to reader servantofloki, I bring you the following link:

The first 99 Kennings to Loki