Scorpio Moon

I had a dream the other night about cats, with a Kabbalistic twist. I saw that a woman's cat had 18 kittens, and mentioned that to her. She gave me a much higher number (which I can't remember), and said, "They can have as many as 36,000". Then she lamented having to euthanize 500 of the kittens. And was now left with 4. The higher number she gave me was not 504. I have had my copy of 777 out trying to figure out the correspondences here.

This morning I woke up angry. I don't know who I was angry at; I was just angry at people's stupidity in general. I spoke to another friend later in the day, who reminded me that it was a full moon in Scorpio. He was also feeling angry that day, and attributed it to that. It's a good a theory as any.

I find that when my energy level rises, my patience decreases. I'm like a ship moving forward, full steam ahead, and I get very impatient with obstacles. Mostly I'm annoyed with myself for allowing myself to be hindered. Which is silly, but there it is. I think what underlies the feeling is the sense that I always find excuses to put off important action, and I fear that I will start doing that again. Sometimes it's OK to pour a glass of wine, kick back with some pleasure reading, and say, "Eh, leave the challenges to tomorrow." Sometimes it isn't.

Lately, I've realized that most of us know more than we think we do. We just have a way of letting people make us feel that we're stupid.

Stephen Hawking now claims there is no such place as Heaven. I'm with him on that, but he also claims there is no afterlife--it is a "fairy story" for the fearful. I'd like to see his scientific justification. Religion can't prove an afterlife, but neither can science. Psychology is the only bridge, and even that leaves more questions than answers. Something can exist externally and also be manifest because of our collective unconscious.

I believe it was Jung who said that rationality can't replace religion or spiritual belief because it is only means of organizing thoughts.

John Foxx likes to write about cities as organisms. So, this article on Serendipity, the Net, and Cities is for him. Ahem.

In the department of "things that don't go together", I bring you--the Vegan Black Metal Chef.

The H.P. Lovecraft Society is finally coming out with the film for The Whisperer in the Darkness. Currently being shown in Amsterdam, and it should be coming to Los Angeles and Seattle later this year. I am looking forward to the DVD (hopefully). Look for it.

Here is an article on how coffee, chocolate, and wine keep you cancer free. Yeah, I knew that.

And, here is a video featuring Vincent Price vs. the Bee Gees. I'm not sure who's scarier. Or if there's a film that sucks worse than this does.

On the John Bellairs page on Facebook, there has been a discussion of making "The House With a Clock in Its Walls" into a film. I think it would be horrible, especially if it was a big-budget film. There was a Vincent Price special from 1979 (mentioned in a previous blog post) featuring a short adaptation of the story. Sure enough, they tried to make Lewis Barnavelt and his friend Tarby more contemporary. The story is set in the late 1940s--they should have left it there. I can't even imagine a modern re-make. Just read the damn book. And keep Mrs. Zimmerman in the story, please. The only gripe I've ever had with Bellairs' characters is in the 3rd Barnavelt book, "The Letter, the Witch, and the Ring". Mrs. Zimmerman says she needs to consult the "Malleus Maleficarum". Who would consult that? It's a misogynistic manual of torture for Church monks. But to be fair to the late Mr. Bellairs--you can't expect him to know everything. I'm sure the title sounded neat.

Speaking of--in my host of bottom drawer treasures, I also found a bookmark that states, "Would it kill you to read a f**king book?" The image is of a young man watching TV with a bottle of something in his hand, oblivious to his surroundings, and a book being thrown at him.

And with that, I'm back to the lectures of Sigmund Freud and the detective stories of Aleister Crowley. One of these days I will get things sorted and have more organized posts.

Til then...