Archive for December, 2016

The Wisdom of Silence

Posted in About me on December 12, 2016 by Tyrienne

I recall when paying honor to Loki was the absolute most controversial action a Heathen could do that would upset entire communities of brothers and sisters- how naive we were, not knowing what the future held in store with our current global political climate!  This post is about why it is judicious, perhaps- to examine what we share and what we keep to ourselves in this time of stark polarization and uncertain informational resources.

Anyway, I have intentionally been keeping a very low profile lately-  I have been attacked by both the far left and the far right both inside…but mostly outside of our community.  I have searched for reliable news sources on current events, and have learned I have nothing to recommend except for broadening ones circles of acquaintances and relying on first hand accounts of incidents and situations as they occur.

The polarization of all peoples is not unintentional- to divide us from our closest friends and family is politically advantageous to those who seek to control us all with the least amount of force from the higher ranks.  There is no need to fight the people while we are fighting among ourselves- declaring “enemies” from within while everyone ignores the quickening erosion of our greater freedoms of speech and thought.

Many times, I have found myself typing up lengthy replies to posts or articles I do not agree with only to delete them- thinking to myself “Why do they need to know what I think?  What purpose does this serve?”

There is a freedom in silence-  the realization that we do not need to over-share our stances, thoughts, and perspectives outside of the homestead or outside of those we consider our closest companions. It is not the right of every stranger to know where I stand on every issue and every thought I entertain. The internet, as it is now, has multiple formats for us to share our every waking idea, this is not necessarily a good thing- for it opens us up to targeted misinterpretations and knee-jerk reactions of others, turning allies to enemies with a “trigger” that could have been better left unsaid.
When deciding what to say and when- think to yourself:  Will what I say improve on the peace of silence?  Will what I say forward the causes in my life for my family and myself…or will it create more divisions?  Is what I want to say truly important and worth fighting for?

At this point in time, it is safe for me to say that I am waiting in the wings until all the in-fighting ceases among all communities that effect my life (Heathen or otherwise) between the rights and the lefts.  I see the passion of both sides and I understand it- but I have the antithesis of motivation to contribute to it.  It is not worth it to me- nor should it be for many of you.  It took me the better part of a week simply to formulate this post, and part of my reason for writing it at this moment is as a service to those who feel as I do- agreeing entirely with nothing offered by the mainstream, but have been burnt by the assumptions of those who believe we think/feel antagonistically towards the causes other people hold dearly. (It is possible to simply be ambivalent without malice!)

Unless you are someone vested in making a statement- why make yourself and your family a target?  Hatred is strong on both sides at this time- you can see it online and in the protesting in our cities, you hear it in every conversation.

As if anything could be possibly more apropos, I discovered this gem of a concept today:

Loki’s Wager:  a form of logical fallacy, is the unreasonable insistence that a concept cannot be defined, and therefore cannot be discussed.

To me, though- most information is rife with logical fallacy- most especially what I formerly considered reliable news sources.  Although it is a logical fallacy to have UNREASONABLE insistence that ideas and concepts at this time cannot be defined.  A simple internet search on whatever the hottest issue du jour will find contradictions and little material on either side backing their claims- hoping that we will invest in what hope or pessimism want us to believe.

Now is not the time to volunteer information and be sorted into antagonistic “sides” if do not fully agree with their platform-  it is a time to watch quietly to find those who are like minded- whatever that is to you, and progress organically.

Now then- if there is prevalent, political ideology that fits your ethic and ideas fully- by all means, jump right in with all enthusiasm.

I have yet to find an ideology that I back fully- so unless and until I do, do not expect me to lend full support to any.  There are ideas that intrigue me everywhere- but liking any particular  idea does not follow that I support without question the source and everything that source represents at this time.

Chances are pretty high that I am not alone in wanting to see how things unravel or knit. That I do not want to waste my time with condemning or exalting trends or movements at this time until I see for myself and for the sake of my homestead if it is best to stay insular or to reach out.

The future can be beautiful for each person- depending on our choices.  For some, the future is most beautiful in seclusion as the rest of the world falls to madness; the social equivalent of curling up with a good book and some cocoa during a blizzard; but instead of a blizzard of snow, one of contradictory ideas and people screaming to be heard.  For some, they are in their element shaping tomorrow.

I have nothing to gain from/have no interest in rocking boats that exist on tsunami’s of fear and sensationalism already.

I heard you the first time- that is why I have been going through and literally unfollowing the one trick ponies who cannot move beyond their slogans and browbeating- as well as reaching out to people who are saying new things,and following leaders of movements that personally effect me so I can see with my own eyes, without the filter of the interpretations of others, what is said, to whom, and in what context.

If you want to know how Loki’s wager ended- the dwarf who claimed to have won Loki’s head was so pissed he sewed Loki’s lips shut.



Life Inside Nightmares (Fiction)

Posted in About me on December 1, 2016 by Tyrienne

(One small multiverse reality step over from Odin Wanders Inn (Fiction))

Ivy woke up gasping for air- the sunlight poured benevolently through the window as she held her head and tried to shake out the memories of what had just been seen.
Footsteps raced towards her room from down the hall and a fellow traveler rapped on the door, “Miss- are you all right?  Are you hurt?”

“Come in, ” Ivy replied, “…Just a nightmare.”
A scarecrow of a boy, the young music teacher by the name Rai, straddled the only available wooden chair in the room- he was still holding the bow of his instrument.  “…However, if someone were trying to kill me I don’t think your ‘weapon’ would be of much use.”

“You would be amazed.” Rai replied tonelessly,  “There are some songs that make me want to run as far away as possible.  Would you care for a serenade of ‘The Devil Went Down to Georgia’, or  ‘Oh Danny Boy’?  I swear it will hurt me more than it would hurt you.  What was your nightmare about?  I heard you scream.”

“It was awful-  it was like an alternative to now.  Instead of reading, everyone  lost all ability to speak- to communicate they sent one another pictures from pictures from boxes about the size and half the width of a deck of cards.  People were free to go anywhere, but everyone chose to be confined to little cells only to move to other cells during the day.  They were like what I imagine prison must be like…but without the bars.  One of those prisons had nothing but desks and a phone in each cell that never stopped ringing- and when you picked up the phone is was nothing but screaming- strangers just insulting you, strangers with stupid problems, or worse, problems that couldn’t be fixed.  Some cells had nothing but a monitor and keyboard- rows and rows of tiny cells of people who were not allowed to speak, were not allowed to move beyond their cells- like they were tied down with invisible ropes.”

“That sounds awful- good thing we have only one phone in town, they might start breeding otherwise.  Gotta watch those phones, insidious, horny little buggers.”

“I’m serious- the awful thing was people LIKED it….And The schools…oh gods, the schools-  children spent all day like biscuits on a cookie sheet, like the old days but worse:  They were also unable to move, in one-piece desks as they were forced to listen to lies of a robot- I think it was a robot- in front of the room who spoke in gibberish and ordered them to color in grey tiny circles the size of the head of a knitting needle in complicated patterns.  They had little ascetic value- and if they colored wrong they were berated until they crumpled-.”  Ivy broke off looking visibly distraught.

“Breath Ivy…, go on”

“Okay…okay…there was more, though man…There were no chickens, no livestock anywhere, everyone bought individual cuts of meat like pieces of amputated parts from huge warehouses lit all in  blinding bright white lights.  Fish didn’t look like fish- just slices of anemic looking slime in clear trays. It was so weird.   There was fruit of every colour and shape and I couldn’t name most of them- but when you bit into any of it- it tasted awful: too sweet or mealy, or nothing at all.  Everything was beautiful in those warehouses- from a distance, but up close it was a real horrorshow, and I was the only person repulsed by it all.  The warehouse had rows of shelves of what looked like tiny little gift boxes in a thousand colors and sizes and not a one of them smelled like food- but people were eating the stuff inside.  It all smelled like poison- it was disgusting! People were living in deserts complaining of drought and people had land but didn’t hunt game.  They just ate that weird poisonous tasting crap from all the little multicolored little boxes and everyone was ill from it, but no one stopped doing it.”

“Sounds dystopian”

“Well, no…not quite.   A lot of our people who are dead here  were alive there. It was so fucked up man… Yule was alive, for example- they fixed him somehow. That dwarvish looking mofo was entirely whacked out of his skull on drugs, Hatter was in and out of jail, nothing fucking made any sense.  Then some people who are alive were dead in the dream.”

“Was I alive?”

“No, …Rai, you were the first person who died-.  I can’t even talk about what happened to you without getting upset.  Just imagine the worst, most insanely illogical way to die- then know it was likely worse than that.  I can’t explain it, I guess in that way the dream was like other dreams, some things you just can’t explain, you know?   There had to be like six different funerals- all packed to bursting, though.”

“That’s hilarious. At least I was remembered fondly”

“Nah…it’s not like normal.  People didn’t remember you for you-  some people treated you like an old-fashioned saint and prayed to you like one of the Gods.”

“…This keeps sounding better and better…”

“…Until people got sick of all the adulation and started making up the worst accusations they could think of to pass around about you- In the dream I had to fight those people with my writing-when I knew you about as well as I do now- maybe less.”

“You don’t Not know me-  I mean, I pass through here a couple of times a year at least…”

“Yeah…but I don’t think I could write your obituary- not when you are hardly thirty.  I think the deaths of the young are the hardest, even for acquaintances.  In the dream I watched people live like zombies- people who have been long dead and gone,  and people gone there who I cannot picture life without here.   I was in a  world full of strangers and even Bob was a cult leader making up a new religion to the people who seemed to live in the white warehouse instead of the vegetable garden- he was preaching, literally, about gardens like they were endangered or gone entirely like passenger pigeons.”  Ivy’s fingers were tangled in her own hair massaging her aching scalp as Rai sat silently in thought, both hands absently fidgeting with his bow.

“Well, it can’t be prophecy at least.  Yule died  at least seven years ago if it is any consolation.”

“Do you think I should bother Hexer Jaeger about this, Rae?  Dreams aren’t usually so….cohesive.  I don’t think going to Bob the Braucher and saying ‘Hey, I had a dream where you ran a cult’ will improve his view of me any. ”

Rae sighed. “Ivy… his opinion of you is not at risk- but there isn’t any cause for concern…did you read any Philosophy when you attended University? I have this book I had to read on Plato…”

She interrupted, “…that every thing that exists is an imitation of something perfect in the realm of thought?  That we are all in a cave chained to the floor, some people escape, return with new insight and are called insane by those in their own families?  That Agathon is past his prime and Socrates wants a new little boy to molest? What?”

“How about that everything you can imagine is real, already thought of, and exists in other realities?  That we are alive and aware of whatever our minds create- and sometimes the mind can be an observer and creator simultaneously- of everything we dream and think, new realities are created.”

“That sounds like Descartes on psilocybin, Rai….and if that were the case: I design terrible realities.”

“Okay.  Maybe I get the old philosphers confused- my discussions with Bob were more about local history than ancient Greek.  But hear me out-  what if everything we dream is us viewing a different reality where we live?  Maybe you live here in the Inn and chronicle everything that happens here, maybe in another life you are a phone-prisoner, or poison eater at the body-part warehouse.  Perhaps it is to help you appreciate what you have right now.  You’re a Lokean, your God has the weirdest ways of helping his own out.  I pray to his daughter- she’s much more straight forward.”

“So, the phone prisons, the school-prisons, and the white lit warehouses and little colored boxes of poison to eat exists somewhere?”

“Well, of course I hope not Ivy…but if it does- if there is a place out there that fucked up I imagine the parts of our families trapped there would dream of here.   Would it cheer you up some to catch a few chickens with me, Gala, and my sister Lana?  Getting some real, honest food together on the fire would do you and everyone here a world of good.”

“Sounds good.  Especially if you still don’t need the feathers… I’ll be happy to take them as well after the plucking:  My pillows could use an upgrade. Hey, do you ever think the world,or our reality is changing and dreams are all we have to recall what once was?  Sort of like we change dimensions like we sleepwalk into other rooms and then wonder how we got to where we are?”

“I think you get tangled in your own head and can’t find your way out-  If you are going to do that, at least make it entertaining.  That’s why I’m a musician I guess- my thoughts can’t really be expressed with words most of the time- I’d rather just play it out  Maybe you should write about it later, in the meantime we’ll all meet you outside when you’re dressed-  I am pretty sure we will still be chasing chickens for a while yet,”  He stood up and walked out the door only to lean in his head a moment later,
“…Last one out is a dead man…”

Thank you for shopping face down

Picture courtesy of Wikipedia commons