New Year's Eve, IOSHI, etc.

New Year's Eve. The movie was fun, if pointless. Bright lights appealing talent.  Robert De Niro is always good.

Got the IOSHI oracle. I keep almost writing the Oshi oracle, but it's not. It's an eighty card deck channeled by a spirit named IOSHI through an interfaith reverend who's become a radio psychic. It looks nice, even though there are two of a lot of the cards, so actually you're not getting eighty different cards; you're getting fifty or sixty cards and duplicates. It's cheerful though and the artwork's zippy and what do I really have to lose using it? Kind of computer graphicy images, but pretty, done by a man named David Camp. I think the whole thing's self-published,but one of the better efforts  Comes with a instruction manual, kind of the size and width of a Broadway playbill. I've  seen longer card descriptions in competing products, but considering their rambling, shortness could be a plus.

Interesting.

I'm hungry. Me and the Warpsludge female may go to The Cheesecake Factory in a few.

I'm completely off Chatroulette. It just seems like a horrible way to get yourself masturbated at or insulted by people who don't give a flying fuck. It's funny, because you'd think the the computer would be good for communication and reaching out, but no.

Thinking of doing You Tubes of angel card readings, so my webcam/mike won't go to waste. We'll see.

IOSHI oracle

Thoughts

'Thoughts become things Choose the good ones'. Nice quote from Mike Dooley. Sometimes it works for me. Sometimes it doesn't. I've had a rather vivid life and  I can get stuck in it's recesses. even though it's all right now as jumping Jack Flash is fond of chorusing .

Went with the Warpsludge woman to my favorite  restaurant, P.F. Chang's. Enjoyed the food and ambiance. I like the rock songs. I like the mural.  I like the orange lanterns. And I like the food very much. Far better then take out, but still relatively inexpensive, which is good at this point.

I had Singapore Street Noodles--zesty. My wife, Coconut Curry Vegetables--sweet and earthy, I wound up eating half of them. This is Chinese cooking at it's finest. Well probably not it's finest, but awfully good. My only regret is we didn't have enough collateral to go for the garlic spinach, but next time.

Reading that Happy Pocketful of Money book, I've blogged about, with it's new age ideas of quantum theory that would make a physicist weep. Nonetheless, intriguing.

Saw The Fabric of the Cosmos: The Illusion of Time on PBS where I heard about Einstein's idea that the past, present and future are all together at the same time. This really interested me, because I know some hippie didn't make it up. Not that hippies are all together wrong about life, I don't think, but when it comes to scientists, they're not.

Night

Today was OK. Went to work, came home. It was dark, but I didn't mind as much.

Me and the wife listened to a burnt CD of Doreen Virtue's most recent radio show, sometimes making fun of her, but appreciating her nonetheless. A close friend of her's named Michael, (not the archangel), passed on, which is too bad.

After that, I wrote a little of my novel, seem to be writing it consistently a little. It will eventually be a lot.

Then, I went on Chatroulette, with my new video camera/mic, where a number of teenagers insulted me. No one masturbating this time around which made me happy. However, I think I could do better things with my time.

Going to sleep soon. The night calls out to rest. I might play with angel cards or tarot cards in bed awhile by reading light, while Mrs. Warpsludge snores. And dreams--hopefully good ones.

Shatter

Reading Shatter by Michael Robotham. Fairly tawdry although it pretends not to be.

It's about this guy who forces women to jump off buildings, naked in fancy shoes--the women not the buildings. He does this through psychological torture for he is the master manipulator and a humble English psychiatrist must match wits with this man to stop him.

Very sensitive psychiatrist and the writing attempts to be understated, but you can't fool me! Tawdry! Tawdry! Tawdry!

Also well written and suspenseful.

But isn't that why books suck? They draw you into their morbid little world and then they eat you. Unless they're about fairies or angels, but even the ones about fairies and angels are annoying. Too many spirit guides saying stuff like: I shall wrap thee in a warm blanket of puppies if ye shall follow my goo.

Reading is a stupid habit! Get up go for a walk. Exercise, you lazy fuck. Don't waste your life looking over words like a worm.

Not to be critical, just a suggestion.

Today though, I actually  feel better. I've been getting  the winter blues and snapping at Mrs. Warpsludge somewhat awfully and she hasn't been in such a good mood herself, but now, I'm in control and mellow and feel things will be fine.Perhaps it's the Rainbow Light vitamins I've started taking. Perhaps it's the book I'm writing. Perhaps it's just time and my desire to feel better attracting good feelings. In any case, I don't fully understand why I'm happier, but I'm happy about it.

Barnes and Noble

Off to Barnes and Noble with the boys. We are the ugly ones who eat and talk loudly and obnoxiously and get fifteen books each to browse over and only occasionally buy one and usually one that's on-sale.

My comrades and I spell the end of bookstores and perhaps the end of western civilization!

I have been known on more then one occasion to pick a book in Barnes and Noble's and order it from Amazon where I can get it for a few pennies less!

Do you hate me?

Listening to a nice 8tracks selection of Celtic music. 8tracks is supposed to have commercials, but I've never heard one. Maybe I don't stick around long enough to hear 'em, but I like the service. And Sound Cloud, but somehow for no logical reason, 8tracks seems personaler. Do they play more folk music and Sound Cloud more techno music?

Bruce Lee

Reading Leveraging the Universe by Mikey Dooley. It seems good. He suggests a combination of law of attraction and action--a kind of trust the universe, but do everything you can, anyway. It feels inspiring, but so did Chosing Easy World which apparently lead to nowhere, but Julia Hamrick's junk mail list.

So we shall see what we shall see.

Practicing Taekwondo, although I'm too old. Perhaps I'll get a second dan, before I croak. Meanwhile teenagers leap in the air like Bruce Lee; performing techniques, sparring, forms with a graceful ease I can only hope for in dreams. I don't feel too bad, I'm glad I'm still going.

Doing other things too.

I need sunlight, also more movies with Adam Sandler going to Hawaii, and tarot cards of all descriptions.

Later.

Vacation

Just went to a fantastic resort in the country for a couple of days with Mrs. Warpsludge. They served stuff like beet meal with quinoa and fresh mountain trout. And we went for walks in the snowy autumn mountains. So much fun. As we'd taken a holiday package, there were little tykes, all over the place, in Halloween costumes, amazed at the  grandeur of the whole set-up and, I think, happy. They were fun to watch.

I get a cold every ten years and it was unfortunately my ten year due, but I basically ignored it and enjoyed the vacation. I did pop  a lot of  garlic pills and fruit gummy echinacea tablets. They were supposed to have the appearance of strawberries, I think, but looked weird. And this powdery holistic stuff in tubes, that looks like crack-cocaine, but is supposed to be good for fevers. Occasionally a Tylenol.

I don't know if these medicines helped or not, but I was enjoying myself there. I think that helped the most.

Neale Donald Walsch

Neale Donald Walsch looks like god with white long hair and a beard, but he is very boring. At least as an interview subject on Healing with the Masters. He has a monotonish chuckle-head voice and goes on about the world needing a new story to tell itself and how everyone should be happy and blah blah. I lost track of what he was saying. It didn't seem important or if it was important, he said it in such an unimportant way it put me to sleep.

However, it is of interest he looks like god, (except for the rimless eyewear), and wrote Conversations with God--so at appearance, it seems to be a book of  him having conversations with himself.

I do think of god having a more expressive voice, though.

Also, he may not look like the traditional old man with the white beard and stuff, so who knows? But I doubt he looks like Justin Bieber. I guess he could. He could look like anything, probably doesn't have a physical body, but that's confusing. What the heck would that look like? Maybe he's just love and light. You can see light, but you can't see love.

Lakshmi's birthday's tonight and that makes me happy.

Lakshmi

On Dear Bully

I kind of appreciate what they're trying to do here--make picked on children feel less alone, but a better title would be: Fuck You, Asshole!

Ask the Angels

Listening to Doreen Virtue, who I like. A woman calls in. She feels motivated to change her life, but  feels  there's something missing. Doreen says one step at a time. She then gets a little annoying with health food. She tells the woman she needs to detox and eat green juices. I don't know if the angels want everyone to be vegetarians and not eat wheat and stuff.  It makes the angels seem a little petty.

On the other hand, I love Doreen Virtue's voice. She seems really nice and comforting, whatever my disagreements.

By the way--reading The Big Short by Michael Lewis about the fall of Wall Street. It amazes me how corrupt and insane the place became, but it sort of amuses me too, like reading a horror novel. The books written in a dark and funny way and although my mathematical skills are lousy, I now almost understand what happened. Not my usual reading stuff, but why should I always do the usual?

 I once went to a hippie camp with Michael Lewis, Jr. We were sort of friends. He played a mean guitar. But I digress. Small world, however. It  hasn't been the first time I've been within six degrees of  a well-known.  Is this important or does it makes me important? I have no idea.

Now a woman on Doreen Virtue's show apparently has earthbound spirits around her, who are afraid they'll be punished if they try to get to Heaven. Doreen Virtue says--convince them to go, because Heaven is 24 hour forgiveness and love. I both believe this and don't. Of course, someday, I'll  find out what's what about the great beyond, as will we all, unless the atheists are correct, you never know.

Crystal stones: creamy calcite. Sounds like cheese.

Now an abused woman's calling. Doreen Virtue says the woman's a survivor and should get back to her professional healing work. She used to work in foreign countries, helping third world people, but gave it up for a  corporate job, because she has two kids to raise. Virtue, the woman, not the quality, tells her she should take her kids and herself, somewhere poor, and get back to it.

Doreen Virtue

Halloween [the anthology]

First story in Paula Guran's new horror anthology, Halloween, sucked. It was called, Conversations in a Dead Language, and was by Thomas Ligotti, who I've sometimes liked, but this story was a complete downer.

It's about a lonely postman who has no connection with anyone and it's insinuated I think, sort of Death in Venice on tranquilizers feelings towards children. The work takes place on three Halloweens' where he hands out candy to them.

On the first Halloween, he laments his coworkers call him fatass and hands out candy. On the second Halloween, he laments his mother's died and hands out candy. On the third Halloween, he remembers he used to be locked in the basement during his formative years, where he ate spiders, feels bad about his broken leg which has put him on disability from the mail-room, and hands out candy.

Then some spirit from another world or something, I'm not quite sure what the fuck it is, anally rapes him with a rotting wooden broom and he's discovered dead the next day by a rather smarmy priest, who, perhaps rightfully so, feels his life has been aimless, not the priest's life, the postman's.

 Ms. Guran certainly does not put her best foot forward in choosing this for the beginning of her latest anthology, although her introduction goes through a mildly interesting history of the holiday, to give some credit. There may be better stories in Halloween [ the anthology], but now that Conversations in a Dead Language has made me feel ready to blow my brains out, I may not be in the position to read more.

Tarots

Rainy day. I hate it. It's cold and I feel kind of fevery, even though I'm not. Nice green tea in the refrigerator and I think one more Coke. So that amuses me. Legs hurt from my martial arts class.

Mystic Dreamers' Tarot

Archangel Michael cards are nice. I want more tarot and oracles. I want more and more. I can't get enough. As soon as I have one, I want another, must have over a hundred. Some of the images are beautiful. Some of the images are insta-decks.

Lo Scarabeo is particularly guilty of these, lately--think of a high concept and churn a deck out quicker then a mass market comic book, looks like each card was done in a half hour by a harried commercial artist, between childrens' candy bar ads. Some of them are nice for a minute, but it's no way to make a long-lasting, spiritual deck.

I know every one can't be a masterpiece, but some of these babies look worse then elementary school holiday posters. I'm thinking particularly of The Wheel of the Year Tarot, but the  Lucy Lescott Tarot and the Law of Attraction Tarot, though  more competently crafted, aren't particularly inspiring either.

Then, there are decks like The Silver Era Tarot--a romantic black and white photo tarot with touches of interesting color, that someone actually bothered with, where you get your money's worth or The Gaian Tarot which took the artist about ten years to do and looks it, and you get about ten times your money's worth!

Or something like the previously mentioned Tarot of the Vampyes which is so much fun, who cares how long it took, but I have a feeling it wasn't overnight! And the beautiful Ciro Marchetti  decks and the magical, moody Mystic Dreamers' Tarot which lives up to its lofty name. Or something like the wonderfully crazy Deviant Moon Tarot.

A lot of good cards have come out.

A Happy Pocket Full of Money

I did some database work today in my office. I'm pretty good with the system, but it's kind of  monotonous. I bought Doreen Virtue's Archangel Michael Oracle Cards and an abundance book called, A Happy Pocket Full of Money, to keep me company. Even though I didn't look at them, just having them on my desk made the time go better. I know the oracle cards are good. I can't speak for the book, except I like the cover.

Unfortunately, it does have a blurb from Joe Vitale, who I find quite self-centered and stupid, as in a sincerely stupid-brained person, probably means I'm like him and he's my shadow side or something.

Anyway, despite the Vitale quote, the book seems interesting. The author is from Mombasa! It's another law of attraction treatise, nothing new, but it seems to be phrased in an interesting way. We shall see what we shall see!  

Also . . . . .  had fun with a child-like friend today. Good weather. Blue sky.

My Favorite Color

I'm cued into a replay of, Healing with the Masters, listening to Rita Zimmerman. She's talking about her wonderful new system, but she's laughing too much and sounds ditzy. She makes some good law of attractiony points, but  she sounds like a cheerleader. Her book is $147 so its obviously not priced for too many people to read.

Meanwhile, I saw, Restless, tonight. I enjoyed it, but it was sort of depressing. It's a movie about two kids obsessed with death, who meet, fall in love, and then one of them dies. It's done kind of whimsically, but how whimsical can a plot like that be? Still, I'm glad I saw it. The teenage boy hangs around with a ghost--another teenager who was a kamikaze pilot in World War II. He's very nice, but as he destroyed Pearl Harbor, I had a bit of a grudge against him. Maybe I'm taking the movie too seriously.

Now Rita is going on about getting rid of your monkey mind. Jennifer McClean, the interviewer, is amazed that everything can be so simple. Blah, blah. blah, blah, blah.

I like the color orange. Not orange red, but more yellow orange, like fire. It's good.

Rita's 3 life changing questions are:

How does it get any better then this?


What else is possible?


Who does it belong to?

I'll give asking these questions a try. I don't know, it all seems like a bunch of shit to me. Jennifer McClean just got her "heart hurt" by a cynical listener. I bet this blog post would hurt her heart, too.

Tarot of the Vampyres

This blog is meant to illicit a response. If it does not, I have failed miserably. If possible, please put your response in the comment section below. There will be a brief wait, while I make sure it's not  spam or death threats. Then it will appear and I will very likely respond to it.

I face a blank space.

Do you know of  Ian Daniels' Tarot of the Vampyres. I think it was originally called the Phantasmagoria Tarot, but its publishers'-- Lewellyn, although usually of the fairy, flowers, and groovy love-light school of wholesome pagan family entertainment decided on a perhaps darker, but more commercial title.

It's a wonderful-looking deck in a sense, but not wonderful looking like a blue sky or mountain top at sunset; wonderful like seventy-eight shocking and morbid heavy metal rock covers.

Its people don't all appear to be vampires, but they mostly have fangs, and aren't mellow.

The book written by Daniels, as well, explains stuff like--the mistress seducing her victim and partaking of his gore represents the give and take of eternal spiritual repressions within vibrations of universal flux. This particular universal flux (?) looks like a large woman, breasts exposed, wearing torn black fishnet stockings and high heels and with a look of psychotic lust and rapture, biting into her human snack.

I've found it a good reading deck as it certainly keeps me awake!