Paranormal Investigation at Red Mill in Clinton, NJ, with TAPS Members

On Saturday evening I made the long commute to the Holiday Inn Express in Clinton, NJ (a whopping 10 minute drive) for a ghost hunting event at the famous Red Mill. I used to have an apartment very close to the Mill--I could walk to it in about 15 minutes. Until I saw the Ghost Hunters episode on the Red Mill, I had no idea it was haunted. I visited it years ago when I was still married--I remember thinking it was a pretty spooky place. But I hadn't heard any of the stories in connection with the place.

According to Bruce Peabody, who is on the Board for the Mill Museum, the Mill was a pretty awful place to work--at different times in its history it has milled grain, plaster, talc, and graphite. The rooms had little ventilation, working conditions were unsafe, and men worked 12 hours or more per day. Some of the ghosts alleged to be there are of a woman who committed suicide by drinking lye, an Irish worker who was assaulted and hung by his co-workers, and a crabby foreman who makes very unkind remarks about women.

I was not sure how this investigation was going to go--when it's a pre-planned event involving tickets, you wonder how credible it will be. I was pleasantly surprised--they broke us up into 5 groups, with about 13-15 people in each group, and we did 5 separate 45-minute investigations. There are 4 floors to the Mill, and a bunch of outbuildings. We worked with a different professional investigator on each floor and outside--on the top floor was Dustin Pari of Ghost Hunters and Ghost Hunters International fame, on the 3rd floor was a woman known as CC the Huntress, a very sweet lady who made use of dowsing rods, and was a fan of "instant EVPs" (doing a rapid succession of questions and immediately checking the results), Kris Williams of Ghost Hunters on the 2nd floor, and Bruce Tango (known, as he says, as "Dave Tango's Dad") on the 1st floor. The outbuildings were investigated with a local medium named Arlene.

Before heading over to the Mill, we had a "meet and greet" with the celebrity investigators, and a question and answer period, followed by a debriefing on the site, and a viewing of the Ghost Hunters episode on the Red Mill. I probably chatted the most with Dustin Pari, who is my favorite investigator of all time--he's very easygoing, not melodramatic, has an ironic sense of humor, and above all--reminds me of my nephew Tucker. I feel almost like Dustin is MY nephew. (We're probably fairly close in age, so that's rather silly, but still...). He was very down to earth, very nice (he declared us "best buds" since I'd been in the front row chatting on and off with him for 20 minutes), and during the investigation, he answered a lot of questions for me.

I want to mention a couple of things from the Q&A. First--someone beat me to the question about the Ghost Hunters episode at Leap Castle in Ireland. In this episode, the "elemental" that is supposed to haunt Leap Castle actually lifted Dustin up and dropped him to the floor. He said that the floor had been covered in straw, but he managed to be dropped at the spot where there was no straw, and stone floors are quite hard. What I didn't know was that this didn't happen when they were formally filming. He said that the team had come in with the attitude of being "Americans who were going to show these Irish how it was done", and didn't take warnings about provoking very seriously. He said that he and Dave were heavily provoking, joking around--the barometric pressure began to drop, and Irish investigator Barry Fitzgerald (now also on Ghost Hunters International) came upstairs, warning them to stop provoking. They laughed and dismissed his warnings, and nothing actually happened while the cameras were running. It wasn't until they were packing up that Dustin was picked up and dropped--it was picked up by one of the hand-held video recorders only, and not the entire event. He said it made him think twice, to realize that you couldn't go into an investigation and be disrespectful, no matter how skeptical you might be about the paranormal.

Another interesting question was from a woman who asked about "encountering Satan" during their investigations. Dustin said they never encountered Satan, and said that any encounter with Satan is rare, if not non-existent. (I don't personally believe in a literal being called Satan--it's clear that Dustin does, but I think we reach the same conclusion). Dustin said that Satan has little interest in our lives, and he has "bigger fish to fry"--giving the Holocaust and September 11 as examples. Demonic possession is extremely rare--most of it can be relegated to the realm of psychological disorder. I was pleased that he mentioned that Ouija boards are not doorways to the Devil ("Parker Brothers does not have a contract with Satan"), but did mention that the mental fitness of those using such tools was often the main factor in whether or not there would be trouble. I also give him kudos for dismissing as nonsense the notion that 3:00 am (or 3:15 am for Amityville Horror fans) was any sort of "Devil hour that mocked Christ". I first heard this said by Ed Warren, and it has been repeated on episodes of Paranormal State by Ryan Buell, who is no doubt quoting the Warrens. I'm not dismissing the Warrens outright, but I agree with Jason Hawes--you have to take what they say with a grain of salt. It's especially refreshing because I know that Dustin is a devout Christian, and I'm glad that he's not sidetracked by these kinds of superstitions.

While investigating the fourth floor of the Mill, I had the opportunity to ask Dustin about my mother's strange case. I think I've mentioned in earlier blog postings that my Mom has been plagued by some kind of being when she lays down to go to sleep--it either breaths in her ear, or makes these loud repeated popping sounds. In some cases she thinks she hears a voice. I've noticed she sleeps with her Latin missal and rosary beads next to her bed. My father never hears what she hears, and says she's just imagining it. But I did hear it--when I went to Florida for my niece's graduation, I drove back with my parents, and we shared a hotel room. I could hear this strange popping noise in my parents' bed. I thought it was my father--but then my mother said, "Brigid, do you hear that?" I said, "Yes, isn't that Dad?" She said, "No, it's not. It's that thing I was telling you about." So, I sat up, observed, and listened. Finally I said, "Mom, that's coming from YOU. You're generating that." But she has never believed me. Now, asking Dustin, he agreed that it could very well be a stress phenomenon, especially since my mother was past menopause. He said he has seen such cases, and the only way to dissipate the entity is through stress management via exercise and/or counseling. There are cases where people are haunted by entities, but often they invite them in for similar reasons, with a similar remedy.

CC the Huntress had some interesting EVPs while the previous group on her floor was present, and apparently an old-fashioned sewing machine started up by itself. Not much happened while we were there. On the second floor, we experienced Kris Williams' approach to ghost hunting. For one thing, she tries not to be too "serious"--we're sitting around hoping to contact dead people, how silly is that? She's also a great provoker--when nothing is happening, she starts saying provocative things. She related an incident on the Ghost Hunters show, when they were filming in a location that she thought was pretty lame. Nothing happened--she did her provoking and got nothing. As they were packing up, Steve Gonsalves asked if she was ready to leave. "Yes, this place is lame," she replied. Their DVRs were still running, and later upon review, Kris heard a man say, "Get that bitch out of here" after she made her comment about the place. So--back to what Dustin said about being respectful. Though Kris does have a point--if nothing happens, sometimes this rudeness is the only way to make things happen.

On the first floor we worked with Bruce Tango, who told us that an earlier group experienced movement in one of the drill bits hanging from the ceiling. It wasn't just a slight motion--it was an actual rotation, like a pendulum. When someone asked it to spin the other way--it stopped and began to spin the other way. During our investigation there, we heard a loud bang, and one woman felt something touch her--like a bug smacking into her head, but there was no bug. There were a few cold spots, but not much else happened. While working with Arlene, we went to the schoolhouse on the grounds, and the tenant house. She did some medium readings in the schoolhouse--they were relevant to others, but not me. Which is not surprising--I try not to hold onto those who have passed. The medium talked about her own experiences, especially in the tenant house. While she was talking, several members of our group heard footsteps on the level above us. No one else was in the house with us. I, sadly, did not hear the footsteps. I have heard that this is a common phenomenon in that building.

Usually in haunted places, I get a feeling in my gut, and my hairs stand on end on my body, as if electrified. I didn't have that feeling at the Mill, though I was experiencing on-and-off sinus headaches from the high humidity, and drastic temperature changes between the upper and lower floors of the Mill. The resulting shakes I had made it difficult to tell if I had any other sensations about the place.

All in all, it was an interesting investigation. I had a digital voice recorder running for all 4 hours of the investigation, and I still need to review it. Dustin Pari encouraged those with recorders to send any possible EVP clips to him at his website. I certainly will, if I find any in review.

I also recommend that local NJ residents become members of the Clinton Mill Museum--you would get free admission to the Museum, and information about a lot of ghost walks and paranormal events that go on there regularly. And it's a piece of history worth preserving, whether you believe in ghosts or not.

Religious Education?

Today I saw this post about the GCSE Religion exam in Great Britain. "GCSE" stands for "General Certificate of Secondary Education", and British students have to pass a test (or tests?) to obtain this. There was some disgust about the fact that secondary school students wouldn't be able to identify Mary or Joseph in a standard Nativity scene. Unlike the United States, Great Britain does have an official state church, even though they do accept other religions. The complaint in the article was that students spent too much time on world religions and not enough on Christianity.

Is that really the problem? I think it's the opposite problem--people aren't educated enough about ANY religion. The fact that we live in a modern, secular society doesn't change the fact that people do practice various religions. While I don't think anyone in a Western country is keen on having any particular religion foisted on them in public schools, the lack of historical education is, quite frankly, a problem. This is not about indoctrinating youth into a set of beliefs; it's about the religious history of civilization.

Think about this: I read a posting recently from a religion professor in a university who was teaching about the Crusades. A young conservative Christian student raised her hand, and wanted to know where the Protestants were in all of this. She seemed to be clueless about the fact that the Protestant Reformation took place about 400 years later. I've read similar accounts from professors who teach conservative Christian students in conservative Christian colleges. When questioned about the basics of their own religion, they fail. And when we talk about Christianity's intersection with American history--only look at the previous blog post to see how many idiots--including those in elected positions--still think that the U.S. was founded as a "Christian country".

Consider this as well: How many conspiracy theories are still extant about the Jews and a "Zionist plot"? How many people out there still think all Muslims are terrorists and linked with Al-Qaeda? And these are just the major monotheisms. I couldn't begin to tell you how many people ask me how I could practice Hinduism, when Hindus believe that all those statues are gods.

Ironically enough, those that oppose religious education the most vehemently are the very religious. There is a great fear that if their children learn about other religions, they will lose their faith in their parents' religion. To them I say--is your religion so flimsy and weak that it can't stand up to historical scrutiny?

This is not about teaching the Bible in class or some brand of Christianity. It's about teaching the basic facts and history of the major world religions--and about the impact of religion in society, and maybe looking at some of those religious works. There ought to be a History of Religions class that students have to pass before graduating from high school. There should be no editorializing, just the facts. Even the children of atheists would do well to understand the religious landscape and its context. It affects everything in our society, like it or not--and the negatives come mostly from ignorance.

Texas Zombies

Do you remember when this sign appeared in Austin, Texas?



Well, they weren't kidding:



You can read the full blog post on this here.

If this were limited to a small area of Texas it might not be a big deal. However, these folks make textbook decisions that affect the entire country.

There is no explanation for this except that their brains have been eaten. If you have children in grade school, be very afraid. They're coming for their brains next.

Cartesian Chaos

Perception is so untrustworthy. Frequently your perceptions are based on how much your brain and/or your body hate you on a particular day. I’m sure someone with more math skills than myself could come up with a formula.

Getting up at 3am is not that big of a deal. I usually get up at 4am—this is just one more hour. Going to work is not a big deal—I know exactly what I have to do, and I do it. I get home before the rush hour, and if I don’t have a brief appointment somewhere, I’m at home making dinner and relaxing. I go to bed early because—well, I have to get up at 3am.

So, overall, no big deal, right? A little stressful, lots of things to do, but it’s not as if this is something new to my life. However, my brain and body feel very differently about this. According to my perceptions, I’m being trampled over and over again by a team of Clydesdales. And boy, are my brain and body MAD about it. I’ve never felt such anger about absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. John Foxx uses the metaphor of “having your skin scraped off by a lot of nice, friendly people” in a recent interview, in reference to different stresses of public life. I think it’s something like that, but Foxx is English, which means he’s better at hiding his feelings about such experiences. And he remembers to carry an umbrella when he’s out in English weather. I’m bad at both things, and Foxx is nice enough to only scold me about the latter.

But back to perceptions. For all the meditation I’ve done and still do, however many times I tell myself that reality is just an illusion, a game, not to take it too seriously—I am frequently annoyed that I still have to play politics with my brain and body, who do not accept this. They’re like the Tea Party of my soul—I have no choice but to put up with their loud protestations even though they’re idiots.

Speaking of idiots and idiocy, I learned that Bristol Palin, famous for being Caribou Barbie’s daughter and having a baby out of wedlock, is going to command a $30,000 per-event speaking fee. Apparently she’s planning to talk about moral issues like abstinence, which goes to show you that if you fail at something, you can make a killing off of it. I’d mention lemons and lemonade, but I hate old clichés. It also makes me want to put my sign back up with the big “X” in the middle and the instructions “bang head here”. I thought I could put that away permanently when I stopped working for County government.

But seriously—I must be in the wrong line of business. $30,000 per speaking event when your only qualification is being the daughter of a pop tart? I think I’ve lived too honestly and intellectually, and have actually bought the old BS line that suggests I will be successful with both of those things. I guess success in this case means “personal satisfaction” and not “making a ton of money”. In any case, one hopes that Bristol has a better command of the English language than her mother. Not that it will matter to her audience—most of them can’t spell. (Ironically, they are usually the same lot that demands the U.S. be an “English-only” country. They’d have to leave.)

You see? I’m getting aggravated again. This sort of thing goes on all the time lately. Maybe I’m not living a sheltered enough life. Or maybe I’m not drinking enough beer. Of course, I’ve heard that neither of these things is good for you, but I heard that from the same people that said working hard at my academic pursuits would make me wildly successful.

I think I just need to remind myself that life is absurd, that my thoughts about it are absurd, that we’re all crazy, and I just need to remain centered and disciplined.

Eh, forget it. My body wants a pizza.

Glenn Beck

Glenn Beck reminds me of a rabid dog, with the difference being that dogs are smarter. (Yes, even rabid ones). My father watches him religiously, and I've never been able to sit with him through more than 5 minutes of that bat-shit insanity. (OK, you caught me--it's really more like 5 seconds).

In any case, if you're an American, you probably (I hope) know this already, and if you're not--well, I'm sure other countries have their resident crazies, I just don't know if a major network gives them a show or not. Actually, seeing some examples of the UK's hate-speech law in action, I'm betting Beck would be banned entirely. While I'm for freedom of speech, I have to confess that I wouldn't be particularly sad about that.

For your viewing pleasure--here is a satire from The Onion regarding Mr. Beck:


Victim In Fatal Car Accident Tragically Not Glenn Beck

And Lewis Black on Glenn Beck, totally on-point as usual:

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Back in Black - Glenn Beck's Nazi Tourette's
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Tea Party

The Marvelous Mr. Bierce

It's been a few days since I've done any blogging, but not without reason. May has been the Month of Panic, as I've got online lectures to record (14 of them, ranging from 1-2 hours each), stories to finish before going to Book Expo next week, unexpected visits from West Coast family, anxiety about bills as this is my last month without a 2nd/3rd job--and realizing after weeks of little sleep and non-stop work that I still have a lot more to do. So, not feeling any pressure or anything.

In talking with friends and co-workers in recent days, it's interesting how everyone has had a sense of feeling "trampled" these days. Lately I find myself getting irritated at selfish and uncivil behavior, even though it's pretty much the norm in our self-absorbed society. In such cases, where people may be wrong but you can't change them, there's really only one solution: satire.

I've forced myself to take some time out to relax over the last couple of days, and I've taken that time to do some reading. My book of choice is "The Ambrose Bierce Satanic Reader". Bierce was an American writer from the late 19th century, well-known for his short stories and his ultra-cynical "Devil's Dictionary", one of my favorite pieces of writing ever. Bierce was a master of the art of "telling it like it is". The "Satanic Reader" features clips from news articles written by Bierce in various newspapers from the 1860s to the 1880s. The articles provide a glimpse into the social and political life of America on the West Coast (namely San Francisco) during that time period, and Bierce's cynical feelings are hardly concealed. What is remarkable is how little has changed between now and then. Here are some examples:

On religion in the "land of the free" (1869):

"Mr. J.G. Methua was arrested for giving a theatrical exhibition on Sunday. Mr. J.G. Methua would better have a care how he conducts himself in a country of equal rights. Sunday theatricals may be safe in the crumbling despotisms and rotten aristocracies of the old world, but not in the lusty young republic of religious toleration--not in a land of religious liberty! Rally round the Cross, O leathern-lunged elect, for the recognition of Christianity, and its relentless enforcement by law! Let us jam our holy religion down the protesting throats of the heathen and the infidel, so that they shall be brought to know God, and to love him as we do; yea, that they may hanker after him, even as a baby craveth rhubarb, or a cat lusteth after soft soap."

In a section called the "Fallacy of Democracy" we have the following:

The Versatile Lieutenant-Governor (1869)

"The Secretary of the State Prison Commission complains that the Lieutenant-Governor, who is ex-officio Warden of the Penitentiary, is selected without reference to his qualifications for that position, but for his fitness to take the place of Governor in case of necessity. He is selected with no reference to either, but is usually well qualified to take the place of the Governor or of the prisoners, indifferently."

Essence of Political Differences (1877)

"Judge Bradley says of the electoral commission: 'I firmly believe that the differences of opinion were honest, and arose from the different standpoints of individuals.' Not a doubt of it; seven members of the commission looked at the question from a standpoint of self-interest, and eight considered it from one of personal advantage."

The Pattern of Power (1884)

"The wrongs that the poor and feeble suffer from the rich and powerful transcend expression. The sufferers are themselves but dimly aware of them: 'tyranny', 'plunder', and 'insult' are mild terms to describe them. But redress there is none--there is only escape; the victims must emancipate themselves by acquisition of wealth and power. They cannot hope successfully to fight. They are a minority, and have neither the intelligence nor the means to cope with the formidable energies and exhaustless resources of the system that is to them an engine of oppression. Nine men in ten have in them the potencies and possibilities of rascality, which need but opportunity to develop. Let Socialists make the laws to-day and they would break them to-morrow. No sooner do the poor become rich than they harden their hearts to the miseries of the poor. In so far as it proposes to correct the evils of unequal fortune, Socialism aims to repeal the laws of nature."

On Prisons (1886):

"The newest 'fad' of the penologists is 'indeterminate sentences'--that is to say, criminals are to be simply sent to prison, to be, like patients in a hospital, 'discharged when cured'. This plan--which has the merit of Prison Director Hendrick's approval--will work first rate if God will agree to act as the discharging officer. It is hardly likely, though, that he would accept the position; he has long been out of politics."

"Case Dismissed" (on bribery) (1871)

"We have the highest possible regard for Mr. Freelon, the Assistant District Attorney, but if we had caused as many murder cases to be dismissed in one week as he has, we should expect somebody to affirm that we were bribed. That nobody has made that charge against Mr. Freelon is extremely creditable to our community, and very fortunate for Mr. Freelon. If it were once made somebody would be sure to believe it, and would swear that it was the only intelligible explanation of his conduct. Let us give thanks that Mr. Freelon is above suspicion, and let Mr. Freelon feel grateful that we are above suspecting him."

And so on. Bierce was often criticized for "telling it like it is", and in my favorite response to that charge he says:

"...I had a thing to say which nobody else would say, and it was necessary to be said. One of the disadvantages of our social system, which is the child of our political, is the tyranny of public opinion, forbidding the utterance of wholesome but unpalatable truth. In a republic we are so accustomed to the rule of majorities that it seldom occurs to us to examine their title to dominion; and as the ideas of might and right are, by our innate sense of justice, linked together, we come to consider public opinion infallible and almost sacred."

Which is also why we need satire--it's a joke that's only half-joking. People can't handle "unpalatable" truth head on. More importantly, satire reminds us that we take ourselves and our opinions too seriously. We do know this, which is why The Onion, The Daily Show, and The Colbert Report are all more popular than the regular news. They're not only more truthful; they remind us how absurd everything is.

Snip

It’s nothing short of a miracle that I got out of bed and to work on time this morning. Every day I wake up feeling like I’ve transmuted into lead overnight. Which is the reverse of alchemy, I think.

When I’m tired, I sometimes get crabby. I think I’m feeling fine, then someone does something stupid, and I’m ready to knock their head off. I like to think of it as being “a tad oversensitive”. You know—like getting a slight burn on your finger, and it’s just enough at the surface of your skin to sting and throb—not a big deal, but it can drive you absolutely mad, and you get over-caffeinated or ridiculously drunk as you slog down cold beverages, just to have something cold to put on your wound. Third degree burns never smart like that—you’ve actually burned away the nerve endings. I got a third degree burn once, and released so many endorphins that I was happy. There’s a lesson here somewhere, but I think I’d better avoid it.

After the library rally on Trenton, there were several articles in the news about the rally, and every single one managed to piss me off. Not because they reported on our concerns; because they all referred to us as “usually quiet librarians”. I find it staggering that news reporters have never set foot in a library. I have never met a quiet librarian. Actually, that’s not quite true—I’ve met a few. I’ve also met quiet accountants, plumbers, salesmen, artists, construction workers, and musicians. “Quiet” is not a personality trait reserved for librarians. If anything, librarians are quiet because the public insists that the public librarians be quiet. I recall a long debate in my library management class many years ago about whether or not libraries were places of quiet or places of learning (i.e., not quiet). It’s probably a mixture, but consider the following exchange I had with a woman about 8 years ago in a public library.

The woman was studying for a test, and looked quite agitated. She chose a seat in the Reference Room right next to the librarians’ desk. I wouldn’t be caught dead doing public desk service, but I happened to be walking through, and the woman who was giving the librarians dirty looks and exasperated sighs, stopped me, and said, “Aren’t they supposed to be quiet?? This is a library and they are so loud!”

I pointed to the rooms behind her. “Ma’am, do you see those rooms?”

She turned around to look, then looked back at me.

“Those are quiet study rooms. Those rooms are quiet. The rest of the library is noisy. They have to answer reference questions, so it’s always going to be loud here. ”

I don’t think she liked my answer. In any case, “the quiet library” and the “shushing librarian” are a lot of horseshit, and people use the stereotype to be demeaning. The only librarians I’ve seen putting a finger to their lips are Golden Dawn initiates. (You occultists out there can work that one out for yourselves...)

Anyway, when I’m tired, I also tend to pass by information I see on e-mail, on Facebook, and on various websites in a haze. It’s a bad time for me to read, because I read the same page 100 times, at least, and never get past it. Something has to be a bit strange for me to notice it.

I’ve made a list of random quotes and headlines that I’ve encountered over the last few days. Some are from Facebook, some are from Twitter, some are from various blogs/sites I read regularly:

“Cooler in Times Square contained water bottles. Everybody PICNIC.” (Fark)

“Headline: No charges for corpse parked outside Glen Oak High School. Great. Now zombies are going to think they can park wherever the hell they want to.” (Fark)

“The smell of napalm and iced coffee...” (FB)

“Be there, or be vaguely rhomboid” (FB)

“The modulated scream: pain in late medieval culture” (book title)

A photo of a grocery store with a section called “Friendly Bacteria” (FB)

“A crazed driver rammed at least 17 black cars throughout London, convinced the vehicles were ‘out to kill him.’” (Arbroath)

“ A council spent nearly £1,000 on a bouncer to protect staff at a library from '’unruly’ school children.” (Arbroath)

“Death wants to hump your leg” (FB)

“Twitter is broken? Does anyone care besides Justin Bieber fans?” (Village Voice)

“My wife has a copy of the book ‘How to Kill Your Husband’. She denies having read it, which explains why I am not dead yet.” (FB)

And—just for something different—here is the inside of the receiving vault at the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, which I visited for a nighttime tour last week. Awesome. (Though driving almost 2 hours home at 11 pm was not so awesome. Might explain why I’m tired...)

Sacrifice

If you live in New Jersey, you're hearing a lot of garbage about "sacrifice" these days, specifically from the Governor's supporters in relation to his budget. I'm not going to get into the politics of the whole thing, but I do want to offer some thoughts on "sacrifice".

What passes for sacrifice these days is a living example of the old cliche, "Give an inch and take a mile". Those who are strong and willing to make sacrifices are the ones who end up screwed. Let me give you some examples.

My boss and I were talking one day, and she said, "Did you ever notice that if, say, the local post office holds a food drive for a local food bank--those people in your community who are barely getting by or have nothing will bring in bags of groceries, while the wealthy won't give anything at all, or maybe one canned item?" While I am sure there are exceptions to this, generally speaking, it tends to be the pattern. My friend Liz works in a library where the biggest complainers about free programs (or having to pay anything for a library program) are the wealthy. Her boss told her, "Liz, that's why they have money. They never spend it." In our current state budget crisis, Governor Christie has repealed a tax put in place by the previous governor on people making over $400,000 a year (note: see update on this in comments below), and has handled the state's financial crisis by eliminating or severely crippling services for the poor, the handicapped, and the unemployed. When people complain he and his cronies say, "Hey, we're sorry to do it, but we all have to make sacrifices." Which translates to "the middle class and the poor have to make sacrifices. Don't bother my rich friends."You don't see the upper classes sacrificing anything.

Greed certainly accounts for some of this, but part of it is a social phenomena that revolves around our accepted responses to difficult situations. We want to have enough of everything, to be able to pay our bills, to have some extra for leisure, and perhaps for some favorite "toys" (a new car, a new iPad, whatever). However--there is never enough money. Spending increases proportionate to your income (and so do your taxes--unless you make huge amounts of money). And as spending increases, debt increases, and you need more and more money to pay it. Even the most frugal can run into financial crises--I had wiped out all my debt a few years ago except my mortgage, and then I suddenly needed a new furnace and a new roof for my house. Not cheap when you have a moderate income level.

There is a mistaken notion that salary increases will also increase your personal wealth. When I got my first big raise from $30,000 to $50,000 a year about 10 years ago, it was a $20,000 increase, but I ended up giving back close to $15,000 in taxes, Social Security, etc. So--I only netted about $5,000 in extra income for my troubles. As I said before--there is never enough money, and the numbers are deceptive. Perhaps this is why the rich want big tax breaks, but is it fair to make the poor and middle class pick up the burden? The economic collapse a couple of years ago shows you that the "trickle down" economics theory is pure bullshit. If you bail out the very rich, they won't spend the money to right things--they'll put it in their own pockets.

And this is my point about sacrifice. Sacrifice is fine for those who are willing to do it. Those who have plenty are more than happy to let those who are struggling make the sacrifices. Shows of strength and community solidarity are shrugged at by those who really could make a financial difference. They say, "Well, see, they don't need our help, they can take care of themselves," and start grumbling about laziness and "pulling oneself up by their boot straps" when those of modest resources are drained and in need of help. You dragged yourself through the alligator-infested swamp before, you can do it again! Don't be such a baby!

That is the grumbling of the new tea party these days, which is mostly made up of the wealthy. "I worked hard for my money, I'm not giving it to some lazy idiot who can't get a job" is one of their mantras. This is why they have their money--they won't spend it. They want the government to provide things, but they are appalled at the notion that they should put their money into the system to make it happen. And those in the middle class and below should think about this. I'm not suggesting that you should give up the value of sharing with others and supporting your community. But if you grew up on the values of Shel Silverstein's "The Giving Tree", throw that damn book away and start placing limits on your sacrifices. You're only being sacrificed by the greedy for the maintenance of their own monster.

WAMFEST: Eugene Mirman and His Pretty Good Friends

WAMFEST was pretty much everywhere last week. If you don't know what that is--it's the Words And Music Festival organized by David Daniel in the creative writing department at Fairleigh Dickinson University, and curated by Wesley Stace (a.k.a. John Wesley Harding), who is FDU's artist-in-residence. This year's WAMFEST got a lot of attention, mainly because of the last day--Bruce Springsteen teamed up with former U.S. Poet Laureate Robert Pinsky in a session called "Jersey Rain" (Pinsky and Springsteen were both born in the same hospital in New Jersey 9 years apart). I didn't go to this particular WAMFEST event, as I was at the rally against the NJ Governor's budget cuts for libraries in Trenton. WAMFEST this year also included John Doe and Exene Cervenka of X (which I missed because I was sick), and Stace in conversation with poet Paul Muldoon (which I missed because of a doctor's appointment). However, I did attend the WAMFEST event on Tuesday of that week, which included Eugene Mirman and His Pretty Good Friends.

Last year I posted a YouTube video with a graduation speech given by Eugene Mirman at his high school. He had read us the draft of that speech at last year's Rumpus/McSweeney's party at the Highline Ballroom in Manhattan. I enjoy good comedy, and I think Eugene Mirman is excellent. So I was happy to be in the front row for this particular event. (It helps when the event is one building over from where you work.)

There were 4 comedians in the troupe that afternoon--Leo Allen, Kumail Naanjiani, Michael Showalter, and Eugene Mirman (in that order). Leo Allen brought his (or someone's) copy of the Brothers Karamazov onstage to try to look more intellectual, since he was at a university. He then recited the Fairleigh Dickinson University joke that was repeated later by Kumail Naanjiani--one I've never heard before. He expressed how pleased he was that this was "Fairleigh Dickinson", and not "Very Dickinson", or "Not at All Dickinson". I'm surprised no one has made that joke before--or that they didn't know about the "Fairly Ridiculous University" joke. What I remember most about Leo Allen's routine was his account of being in a McDonald's at 3AM, with a mentally retarded McDonald's employee, and another employee who was clearly high. Allen was drunk, so he said, "mentally, we were all on the same level." He noted that you have really sunk to the lowest point possible when you go home with McDonald's food and look at Internet porn at 3 in the morning. "If you reach down for that french fry you've dropped while jacking off.."

Kumail Naanjiani took the stage next. I couldn't help but think that he looked familiar. Later it hit me--when I saw the Found Footage Festival Volume 4 show, they had a clip that I loved called "Beggars CAN be Choosers", in which they spoofed a video dating clip. They were all saying what they weren't looking for in a woman. Naanjiani was the guy who said, "If I had to say what I didn't want, I would say, no drug users. Actually--there are probably some pretty nice drug users out there. Can I...can I take that back?" So, if you've seen Found Footage Festival, and haven't been on Comedy Central lately (I haven't)--this is that guy. He was very funny--he talked about the video game "Call of Duty", which very realistically puts the player in war zone situations. There are games for earlier wars (like World War II), but there are also versions for the Afghanistan and Iraq wars. Naanjiani noted that he was Pakistani, and avoided these games initially on principle, but then ended up playing a game at a friend's house, and threw principle out the window. One level in the Afghanistan game is actually the name of his own hometown. He figured he would have an advantage there, as he already knew where everything was. But he noted that all the road signs and such were in Arabic, and they speak Urdu. "You would think, after 3 years developing every detail of this game to be perfect--someone would have Googled 'Pakistan language'. But no..." He talked about his childhood experiences with movies (he saw a Disney movie--I can't remember which one now--and when he was upset about the ending, his mother said, "Animals can't talk. Stop crying." But when he watched The Elephant Man--not knowing what it was about--he said to his mother "Good thing this is just a movie," and she said "No, this one is real.") He mentioned Paranormal Activity, and how scared his wife was after seeing it. He told her, "It's just a movie." But he went home and dreamed that night that he and his wife were the people in the movie--and when he woke up at 1am having to go to the bathroom, he had to bring his cat Bagel with him, reasoning that the cat would sense something weird before he would.

Michael Showalter's act appeared to be an experiment in "unexpected" comedy--where he just says things, the audience comments, and he lashes out at the audience. He later said, when asked, that he was basically unprepared. I don't think he was joking. In any case, I had a hard time warming up to his brand of comedy. He did do enough research to know that Fairleigh Dickinson was a person, and argued with a guy who said the school was founded in 1942, not 1948 (the guy in the audience was right). I thought it was more interesting that most of the students were totally clueless about the university's origins. But maybe I shouldn't be surprised.

Eugene Mirman was last, and was incredible. He read quips from cocktail napkins that he liked to give out as fortunes ("have a baby--it will save your marriage"). He also joined one of the "Tea Party" sites, so that he could look at people's profiles. He brought some of the pictures posted to that site. He managed to infiltrate with a few of his own, which were hilarious. ("Taxation without Tea? No way, Mister Obama-Hitler-Stalin"). At the end of his routine, he told his famous joke about the 12-year-old boy with Asperger's syndrome (leading to Mirman's CD, "God is a 12 year old boy with Asperger's).

Wesley Stace led a Q&A afterwards that was brief, and the event was over by 5:30. I came home that evening to no power and another attack by the attack tree in my yard. I heard from a friend that a massive thunderstorm had come through around 4:00, and actually cracked one of her windows. I have to say I'm glad I missed it.

(Not) Safe

"Exploring places like (the Nike Battery in Holmdel/Hazlet), perilous or not, is what kids live for, and I hate to think of a world that is made so 'safe' that no such dark, forbidden places exist anymore." -- Weird NJ #34, Author unlisted, p. 62.

My sister was visiting my parents this weekend, and we typically spend a lot of time sitting around my Mom's kitchen table shooting the breeze about everything. One thing we discussed was how overprotective society has become regarding children. When we were kids, we would come home from school, drop off our bookbags, and head out the door to play with our friends, go bike riding, or whatever. My mother's only stipulation was "be home in time for supper". We occasionally got into trouble, and occasionally were injured. On the whole, though, none of us were any worse for the wear. It was easy to develop an imagination under such circumstances--you were free to chart your own course. There were too many children in our family for my Mom to let us get too involved in extracurricular activities. But I don't think that was a loss. I'm horrified by how over-scheduled kids are today. There is no time for them to be imaginative on their own terms.

Halloween has always been a favorite time of year for me, even after I was too old to trick-or-treat. So it's rather sad to hear about how Halloween has been watered down over the years. My sister was telling me that when my nephews were young and in the school Halloween parades, they were told they could only dress up in "safe" costumes that were not scary. Even kids who dressed up as pirates weren't allowed to have cardboard swords. Finally, because so many right-wingers felt Halloween was a "Satanic" holiday (because they are "idiots"), Halloween parades and celebrations were discontinued in some schools altogether in her area. Even where I live, kids are only allowed to trick-or-treat between certain hours, in certain places--and not necessarily on Halloween itself. As far as I'm concerned, that destroys the fun of the whole thing.

But fun aside, I do think kids suffer from being kept "safe". Life is not safe--it's not realistic to pretend everything is rainbows and bunnies. Our psyches are very dark places, and the external world is a dark place, too. If kids never get to grapple with that, what are they going to do as adults when seriously bad shit happens? There needs to be an outlet for our darker impulses, and no one should be treated as psychotic for having "darker" interests. If there is no outlet, then you really DO have to worry about psychosis. Ignoring such things or pretending they don't exist doesn't make them go away, and they often appear very inconveniently and sometimes dangerously when they are repressed. When my sister lived in rural Pennsylvania, she lived in a very repressive religious neighborhood, that also had one of the highest rates of rape and murder in the state. If this surprises you, it shouldn't.

I've already blogged about fear as it is presented in film, so you know I am not a fan of movies about zombies, serial killers, or splatter-gore of any kind. I prefer what Ransom Riggs calls "The Thing Without a Name", because that is truly what we are afraid of. But I also like local legends, folklore, and the sense that a place could be different or somehow "magical". As an adult, I realize that there are plenty of scientific reasons why magical places can be just that. Still, I like the "unseen" and "unexplained" factors, and don't discount them. To take those away, in the name of either reason/science or ignorant fear, destroys part of the mystery of being human. Even when you can explain things scientifically, that doesn't take away their mystery. And to trample such things in the name of religion is just plain idiotic. It means the religious practitioners have truly forgotten what it means to have a soul, and to be a whole person.

We all have a "dark" side, and my darker thoughts or imaginings can typically be seen in my writing. I haven't yet ventured into the supernatural with my writing, though I do have some fiction that would qualify as "magical realism" that hasn't been published (nor is it yet in publishable form). But when I'm reading, I tend towards authors who write about ghostly things, particularly late 19th century and early 20th century writers like M.R. James, Algernon Blackwood, H.P. Lovecraft, Sheridan Le Fanu, and Manly Wade Wellman. (I have to admit that I'm burned out on Edgar Allan Poe). It also seems like children's and young adult authors in the 1960s and 1970s wrote a lot of supernatural fiction, and some of them I still continue to re-read, like John Bellairs and Phyllis Reynolds Naylor. They wear well with age, for whatever reason.

My bright spot (so to speak) today was a package in the mail containing Jack Prelutsky's "Nightmares: Poems to Trouble Your Sleep", with fantastic illustrations by Arnold Lobel. I discovered this book through another blog, The Haunted Closet. You can see images from the book, and a particularly ghastly poem called "The Ghoul" at the link. I wonder if publishers would publish this kind of book for kids today. I don't know the answer--I'm just glad I was a kid in the Seventies, before the world became overprotective. I wouldn't want to be a kid now.

Restaurant Music and Other Hazards

I discovered a couple of new blogs this week. One is called Sunday Magazine, and it gives the best stories for that day in the New York Times--100 years ago. As it is a relatively new blog, I was able to go through all of the entries, and one of them was about the annoyance of having musicians play in restaurants. I was reminded of a blog post I did about three years ago, lamenting the difficulty of finding quiet spaces. While most restaurants don't have live music (some may on certain nights), almost all restaurants pipe in some kind of recorded music, presumably to enhance your dining experience. I am not a fan of such enhancements--I would rather have it quiet while I'm trying to eat, or at least have the music be non-intrusive. I definitely judge restaurants by their music choices.

Many restaurants choose to play soft rock, and this makes me want to drive my fork through my forehead. I hate soft rock. Most of it is melodramatic love songs--the women sound pathetic, and the men, to quote Dave Barry, sound "like they're having their prostate examined by Captain Hook". I hate it when people I'm talking to are melodramatic, and it's the last bullshit I want to hear when I'm trying to properly digest food. A study was done that suggests that restaurants and bars play music because it makes people drink more, and therefore spend more money. I imagine they're drinking to drown out the sound. That's what I would do, anyway. Though I usually just go home with a stomachache, and vow to avoid the place in the future.

I have a favorite restaurant in Flemington. I usually stop in during odd-hours, which means I might be the only person in the dining room, or one of maybe two or three people. At Christmastime, I actually walked in to a quiet dining room. There was Christmas music playing--the obnoxious kind--but it was very soft, and someone turned it off. I found out that it was my waiter. The manager came out and asked him to turn the music up. I was the only person in the dining room, so he came over to me and said, "You don't really want to hear Christmas music, do you?"

"No, actually, I don't."

He nodded. "That's what I thought. I don't either."

He left the music off, and presumably told the manager that it was disturbing the clientele. I gave him a bigger tip that day.

I think soft rock in particular annoys me, because it's usually smarmy love songs--either professing eternal, undying love (which is total bullshit), or nearly suicidal with grief over losing a partner, usually one they've cheated on (which does not elicit a sad reaction from me--more of a "you deserve to be punched in the face you weasel" kind of reaction). Neither style aids digestion very well, and I have to wonder what idiot marketing group decided that this was the best crap to pipe into restaurants.

The other thing that has always annoyed me due to its apparent insincerity is Jesus advertising. I drove into the parking lot at work today, and there was a random car parked there with a "No Jesus, no peace" bumper sticker. Now, I am not anti-Christian, nor am I opposed to Jesus in any way. But when I see something like that, I want to tell the person. "Screw you. You can find peace without Jesus." It's the same reaction I have when proselytizers from any Christian-derivative religion ask me if I've "found Jesus", or suggest that I "need Jesus." Many Christian faiths, particularly the Protestant ones, are fond of "missionary work". Avoiding obvious sexual jokes, I think that missionary work sponsored by a church to help the needy is great. But missionary work designed to "convert" others is downright insulting and offensive. It's fine to talk about religion or one's religious beliefs, but missionary work suggests that the proselytizing group has it right and you obviously have it wrong. Religious belief is as personal as genital hygiene, and I'll thank others to not get involved in it.

I hate to pick on Jesus, but in this culture, he is the one most often thrown in people's faces by the judgmental and self-righteous, and therefore the name leaves a bad taste in one's mouth. There is more phoniness and insincerity per capita with Jesus in the United States than any other iconic figure. Even though I was raised Catholic, and have no aversion to anyone's Christian faith, I'm not really interested in how Jesus "saved" anyone--no more than they are interested in my religious experiences. But that was the subject of yesterday's blog, so I won't bore you by revisiting it.

Instead, I will point you the other blog I discovered this week, "Hyperbole and a Half". I recommend the post on the "alot". I liked it--well, a lot.

Religious Irony

Spirituality is often a double-edged sword. It often starts with an experience that draws one’s attention to the “bigger picture”. Rather than focusing on the temporal, one starts thinking about the “ultimate” and their relationship to that. One might be at a religious service and have a sudden vision or epiphany, one might survive a horrible accident and have a near-death experience, or there could be some other related catalyst that somehow changes a person forever, and now puts them on a spiritual quest.

The problem is that most of us do not have the virtue of humility, or at least we don’t start with it. We like to be confident, in control, knowing where we’re going and how we’re getting there. Humility demands that we admit we don’t know. The initial spiritual experience often produces the opposite result; we now believe that we are “chosen”, or “special”, or somehow hand-selected by divinity to stand out against all the “others”. This is, at best, unlikely. One has to look at the experience in a larger context, and not place too much importance on it. But initially, it will get someone started on the path. If they can drop the idea that they’re chosen or special, and that their experience is just that—a passing experience, they will likely make some progress. If not, they will either remain in their delusion (hopefully not harming others with it), or give up on the spiritual path entirely because it doesn’t satisfy their ego.

The lack of humility is the bane of most religious organizations. Often, members are fighting to become recognized socially—to be someone with power in the religious organization. For whatever reason, religious organizations breed the most insane kinds of egoism. I imagine it is because you are dealing with what is “ultimate”—what greater power could you possibly have than to have “God” behind you? Such people can be like the Biblical Pharisees—they want everyone to see how spiritual they are, they discuss all of their experiences, and carry on about how much work they are doing for others. In short, they are doing it for attention and accolades, not because of any selfless dedication to a spiritual path.

I should be clear that most people start out this way. It’s a new experience, they are excited, they want to share their vision with others, and find a social connection with the group. Over time, experience teaches that a.) No one really cares about your personal religious experiences, and b.) those who do profess to care often become “competitive”, or at least envious. I’ve heard the old “Why did she/he have that experience and I’ve had nothing?” many times. Some religious groups look for such experiences, seeing them as “proof” of being “right” with God. But one should be wary of such experiences—they are a good example of the double-edged sword. Instead of teaching you to be humble, they puff you up, and you may get the idea that you’re more important or more spiritual than others. When people tell my guru about such experiences, she is dismissive of them, and has even said, “Why do you talk about your experiences? Do you want people to look at you and tell you how wonderful you are?”

If one reads the accounts of mystics in any religion, the pattern seems to be that the moment when you feel spiritually dead, like “God” has left you, is the moment when you’re actually getting somewhere. The trick is not to give up. Spirituality does not have a “goal”, though we may talk about spiritual goals. It’s not about making you feel good. There should be no goal whatsoever—except, perhaps, learning to accept life as it is, both the beautiful and the ugly, and to respect both. Anyone who has tried knows this is one of the most difficult things to do.

This would also account for why a lot of spiritual seekers seem like first-class rat bastards. Some of the cruelest and most horrible people I have met are “seekers” in large spiritual organizations. While this may turn you off to an organization, it shouldn’t turn you off to the spirituality, if it is sound. Having a bad experience in a church with a highly political priest and a bunch of back-stabbing gossipy parishioners doesn’t invalidate Christianity as a religious path. The same is true of other religions and teachers. Sometimes I think we encounter such people just to remind ourselves that it’s not all about everything being peaceful and “feel-good”. If we can’t maintain our spirituality in the face of petty and ignorant people, then what good is it? It’s like learning to meditate in a noisy city apartment—there is more accomplishment in doing that then learning to meditate in a silent atmosphere.

Unconventional Career Advice #2: Don't Do More With Less

Today I am presenting at the New Jersey Library Association conference in Long Branch, NJ. I was asked to present on the digital library initiative that I started at our university library. The focus of the talk is on doing more with less. I was thinking about this yesterday as I was reviewing my notes, and it occurs to me that this is actually very bad advice in some situations.

If you’re running your own business or doing something as a hobby, it makes sense to do more with less. Most of us are not rich, and there are so many free technological resources out there that allow us to do things with little or no funding that we couldn’t have dreamed of doing before. However, if you work for big business or government, doing more with less can be a liability. This is not to say that you should waste money. But you should never give up the money you have.

There was a Dilbert cartoon years ago that illustrated the “proper” way to budget. The “right” way was to go over budget, and have the boss say, “Well, I guess I’ll have to give you more money, but don’t do this again.” The “wrong” way is the sensible one—to try to cut costs and come in under budget. Why? Because, as the cartoon shows—when the employee says, “I came in 20% under budget this year,” the boss then says, “Good. I’m cutting your budget by 20%.” This may be a cartoon, but it’s not a joke. That’s exactly how it works. If you don’t use it, you lose it.

This is important to understand in the state of New Jersey right now, as the governor is looking to take a hatchet to most public services in his budget. I was astounded by a radio interview that the governor gave, in which he said that New Jersey libraries would not be affected by losing state money, as they already had municipal funding. He apparently has closed his eyes to the fact that a.) that “funding” is miniscule, b.) there is a bill in the NJ legislature to cut that funding as well, and c.) Libraries will lose millions in federal grant funds as a result of not being able to continue state-funded programs. Which translates to: closing 100 municipal libraries in the state, losing Internet access in about half of the libraries over the next couple of years, shutting down 2 of the 4 state cooperatives put together to share costs and negotiate discounts, and—no more interlibrary loan or delivery services. I recall that the one County library I used to work for sent almost 20,000 books a month via interlibrary loan—and that was one library. I’m guessing that this will be a service that will be missed, as will all of the free databases,and Internet access.

The State Librarian asked why the governor’s office did this, when the libraries went out of their way to cut costs, and actually saved the state money, AND library usage over the last couple of years has nearly doubled (by understaffed libraries struggling to get by with less and less funding). She was told by politicians that they “had no answer” to that question.

But I do have an answer. The State Library behaved responsibly and sensibly with the money they were given, a move that is always punished. The sense was that “libraries have always done more with less”, so losing their funding won’t hurt them. The worst answer you can give in the face of such cuts is, “we’ll figure out a way to make it work.” No, you demonstrate that by losing funding, it WON’T work. It is good to have a “service” attitude and a desire to help those who come into your building. But you don’t help them by bending over backwards and shelling out your own resources. People don’t place the right value on library services because they don’t see what they really cost, and librarians don’t do enough to make people aware of the costs. We are information professionals, not MacGyver clones. I’m not putting together a makeshift solution with chewing gum and a paper clip. Citizens deserve better treatment than this for what they shell out in state taxes. And by saying we can do more with less, we’re saying that our services aren’t valuable or necessary.

One of the many hats I wear is that of a Reiki Master. When I was taking my Reiki training, we were told the story of Mrs. Hawayo Takata, who is credited with bringing Reiki to the United States. She was from Hawaii, and after receiving her Master attunement , she offered to train others for free. What she found was that no one had any interest or placed any value on what she offered them. She changed her tune and decided that in order to Master, one had to pay her $10,000. And she immediately had willing and dedicated applicants. Why? Because the high dollar amount suggested a high value. Americans would rather pay more for something, because they believe that the dollar amount is somehow related to its intrinsic value. The same is true of “free” or inexpensive services. Even with Web 2.0 technology, most people feel that they don’t get enough with the “free” versions of things. There must be a cost to make it valuable.

There is probably a lesson in here about the psychology of our culture and our economic situation. But I think it suffices to say that if you don’t place a value on yourself and your services, no one else will either.

Unconventional Career Advice #1: How Not To Be Seen

Last Tuesday, a good friend called to wish me a happy birthday. She and I had not talked in awhile, and she was lamenting her work situation. The pattern of her working life is unfortunate, and not uncommon, sadly. I’ve been there myself. She is one of those people who is very hard-working, enjoys her job, and is a team player.

You may wonder what the problem is with that. Anyone raised with a decent set of values, and who has any respect for themselves or others will likely fall into that category. How many career sessions have we attended in school, how many articles have we read online about how important these values are for working life? They are important. In a perfect world, everyone would be this way, and whatever the business, it would operate smoothly, efficiently—and ethically. And therein lies the rub—this is not a perfect world.

From my experience in working life, I consistently see a couple of things at play. One is group dynamics and the old “herd mentality”. Regardless of how sensible and intelligent any individual may be, they can back off from any kind of productive decision making if they feel they are going against the grain of the office, and of their superiors in particular. No one wants to be fired, or to spend eight hours or more a day in a place that is conflicted. Most people will just put their head down and “play nice”.

Which makes room for another kind of common behavior—manipulation. This can take a number of forms, but the most common seems to be passive-aggression—and outright aggression. An aggressive co-worker can bring things to a standstill, if they don’t want to do their job and threaten and harass anyone who tries to make them do it. While this is more common than you might imagine, passive-aggression exists almost everywhere. “Forgetting” to complete an assignment, not showing up on time or at all for a shift when a place is short-staffed—I’m sure anyone reading this could think of a number of other examples. If management doesn’t want to deal with the errant employee—and many do not want to go through the bother, especially in civil service—then the person goes on doing the minimum at the expense of others with no penalty.

Enter people like my friend. Someone who wants to get along with everyone, and do their job. What ends up happening is that management sees they are competent, and shifts all of the responsibility to them. It’s easier to assign work to the person you know will do it rather than make those who don’t want to work do their job. And if the person they’re dumping on complains, they tend to make fake promises to “fix” the situation, or simply threaten the hardworking person—after all, the hardworking person ultimately doesn’t want to rock the boat, so their superiors take advantage of them.

So, what is the answer? Boundaries. A lot of new hires will accept any assignment to prove themselves, not realizing that they’re only proving themselves to be gullible. The bottom line is: if a particular assignment is not part of your regular job, and you’re not thrilled about doing it—don’t. It will become part of your regular job. If you have the option of saying no, say no. There’s no need to be unprofessional about it—the best way is to say that you already have a lot on your plate and wouldn’t be able to adequately take care of the other assignment. Or, that you could do the task if it was an emergency, but you really couldn’t do it as part of your regular work. There’s nothing wrong with establishing boundaries at work, just as you establish boundaries in personal relationships. That doesn’t make you uncooperative or bitchy—it suggests that you’re willing to do your part, but you’re not willing to have anyone take advantage of you. It’s a myth that you should willingly accept every assignment to prove yourself. By not taking every assignment you prove that you are realistic about setting priorities. It's also about honesty--don't volunteer to do something you honestly don't have time to do. Sometimes we are flattered by the faith others have in us, but you are only being dishonest with yourself and them in the long run if you allow yourself to be ruled by it.

If you’ve established the pattern of being “the one to do everything”, it can be hard to break the pattern. You have to risk the resentment of others, and maybe the wrath of superiors. Sometimes the only way to break the pattern is to look for a new job, and vow not to re-establish the pattern there. If you can’t do that, you may have to learn defensive manipulation, otherwise known as “diplomacy”. Better yet, “Irish diplomacy”—telling someone to go to hell in a way that makes them look forward to the trip.

Fortunately, I have paid off some kind of bad-job karma and currently have an excellent situation where everyone in my department actually likes each other and works things out together. (Note to my boss and co-workers if you are reading this—you are NOT ALLOWED to leave unless you’re taking me with you. Thank you.) Though I can say that when I was hired, there were some “optional” duties listed, and I inquired about how optional they were. The director who hired me said, “If you don’t want to do it, don’t volunteer for it.” That has proved to be excellent advice.

Old

How many frigging Twitter feeds are there devoted to Justin Bieber? I can't go to the Twitter sign-on screen these days without seeing something from a feed dedicated to him--and it's a different one every time. I'd never heard of Justin Bieber until about a month ago. I was in one of my favorite restaurants having dinner, when a family of five was seated at a nearby table. The two girls in the family, who were probably somewhere between 12 and 14 in age, were on their cell phones, frantically calling a radio station to win Justin Bieber tickets. Their conversation was accompanied by all of the pants-wetting excitement of newly-pubescent girls in love with some corporate boy-toy. I've had no desire to investigate the musical talent, or potential lack thereof, of the young Mr. Bieber. In the long run, it won't matter if he has any talent. Once he's too old (meaning about 20 years old), no one will even remember who he is.

Pop stardom is a here today, gone tomorrow sort of thing, unless you really do have a lot of talent. Actually, that's not true--you can stay in the limelight for a long time if you're scandal ridden. You're probably saying, "Now come on, Brigid, surely you were just as starry-eyed at 12 years old." And the answer is, yes, I probably was. Not over Justin Bieber, who was not even a twinkle in his father's eye at that point. I think I preferred Duran Duran at that age, though that interest only lasted about a year. In any case, it's a horrible phase in any girl's life, and I would not repeat it for any amount of money or anything else. It makes you stupid. Not that I can't find other ways to be stupid, but I like to think they're more dignified. ("Dignified stupidity"--try selling that idea to someone...)

It's my birthday, and I'm edging ever closer to 40 years old. Frankly, it's not old enough. I am looking forward to perfecting the art of "crotchety". I can't wait to come running out my front door, threatening kids playing on my front lawn with a cane. Though in 42 years, there may not be much of a lawn. And I'd probably have a semi-automatic weapon instead of a cane. But whatever works.

Seriously--the best part about getting old is that people dismiss your personal weirdness. You can do and say almost anything as an old person, and people will respectfully nod, even if they think you're a major loon. They'll assume you're getting Alzheimer's, or some other kind of dementia, and just laugh it off and tell stories about you. Come to think of it--if people think you have Alzheimer's, you might also be able to get away with beating the snot out of someone who annoys you. But then they might put you in a nursing home, so that's risky.

When I was at the John Foxx show in Bath, we somehow got onto the topic of witchcraft at the party given by John afterwards. (I think Karborn mentioned something about pentagrams, and I was tired enough to comment). Steve, John's manager, asked me if I was "witchy". I said no, which is pretty much true--I don't practice witchcraft, though I know a fair amount about it. But that would be a great rumor to start when I get old. Having younger kids think you're a witch can lead to some pretty awesome pranks. Of course, by the time I'm 80, no one will believe in such things anymore, so maybe it won't be so awesome. I'll have to let them think I'm a vampire or something instead. Or a Cthulhu cultist. Whatever scary thing is in vogue at that time.

At the very least I'd have "crazy" as a fallback. I think having too much company in your old age is overestimated. My Mom always laments that I haven't had kids, because I won't have anyone when I get old. Which is nonsense, because if I did have kids, they'd just put me in a home and forget about me. I'd rather burn my own house down around me due to dementia, thank you very much.

Genetically, there's a lot of promise. My Dad turns 79 this year, and doesn't look a day over 55. Mom looks pretty good, too--I think she's 73 this year. She still works at a public library, and I'm always amused when men try to hit on her and follow her to her car looking for a phone number. My Dad has been retired for years and doesn't deal with such things. When my father's mother was still living in her home and suffering from very severe dementia, she was convinced that my father was having an affair with another woman. (She was also convinced that I was dead and my then-husband had murdered me, even though I visited her daily.) If you know my father, this is laughable. Even when he was a young man in the 1940s, he had more interest in car engines and his motorbike than girls. I saw his high school yearbook, and it mentions him seeing a girl called "Grace" in the blurb someone wrote about him. I asked him who Grace was; he puffed on his pipe, and raised his eyebrows thoughtfully. "Grace? She was some girl who used to follow me around. I don't know why." That level of romantic cluelessness is something I'm pretty sure I've inherited, which is probably not so good. But you can't have everything.

While I'm nostalgic about some periods in my life, I'm not nostalgic enough to want to "go back." I was not a gorgeous teenager. Couple that with the rampant hormonal surges, anxiety, low self-esteem, lack of freedom, and general insecurity that accompanies the teen years, and you might well imagine that only a lobotomite would want to go back. Assuming they could remember. I do miss the level of imagination that I had in my pre-teen years. That would be nice to have now. Some people would say I still have it, but they really have no idea. I'm much more inhibited as an adult. It just happens.

I mentioned my desire to get really old to my mother, who was horrified. My Mom has another condition, called "satire-impairment". My father knows this, and has been "yanking her chain" (to use her phrase) for years. It's pretty funny to watch. But I hope it's something I never inherit.

Looking To Be A Nicer Person? Well, You Might Want To Look Elsewhere...

Okay, I'm cheating a little bit here today, but I couldn't help it. This is courtesy of my friend Mark at Youdopia.com.

I don't know if this happens in other countries, but here in the United States, some religious groups advertise their beliefs right along with other television commercials. The Mormons are one such group, which is not surprising, as they've always been big on door-to-door marketing. However, the risk often run with such TV advertising is that someone is going to make a parody of your commercial. As an H.P. Lovecraft fan, I was delighted to see a parody of a commercial advertising the Book of Mormon, which advertises the Necronomicon instead.

Here is the original commercial by the Mormons:




And here's the parody:



Thank you, Mark!

I Swear...

I woke up early this morning to the sound of someone, most likely a comedian, talking about Lindsay Lohan and her Twitter feed. This might not have been so strange if a.) I had been watching TV, b.) someone else besides the cat was in the house, or c.) it wasn’t 1:30 in the morning. So, I dragged myself out of bed to see what was what. I went downstairs and found the TV was on, with blaring sound but no picture. The cable box, usually required for a picture, was not on. I pressed the power button and the offensive sound stopped. I can only guess that when I turned the TV on several days ago, I turned all the boxes off but not the TV, and it somehow picked up some signal from somewhere. Some of my friends think this is a “sign” of something, but nothing involving Lindsay Lohan could be a sign of anything except bad taste.

On the other hand—between this and the attack tree outside, this could be the start of a bad horror movie. Earlier this week, I would step outside to find huge limbs from the tree in my driveway spread out on the ground. Not little sticks—4 to 5 foot limbs that were at least 5 inches thick. They appear to be rotten, and this tree is huge, so there must be some bad limbs falling from the top. I found several when I came home from work one day, and dragged them off to the woods. Then I went out to feed the cats the next morning, and there were MORE. I thought, what the f**k is this about? Are the squirrels that live in the tree finally sick enough of the cats to start a war? Like everything else in my life right now, I have more questions than answers. If this is the start of a bad horror movie, I’m going to be pissed off. Especially if Lindsay Lohan is in it. I’d at least want good actors. I don’t know what exactly I’d do about it, though. Probably buy a chainsaw. Or, do what my father does in a crisis—starting cursing my head off.

True story—when I was growing up, my parents’ house adjoined my grandmother’s property, and we treated both properties as one. There was a very nice Italian family that lived next door to my grandmother. My grandmother had a bigger driveway, so we always parked our cars there. If any of the cars needed to be fixed, have the oil changed, or otherwise dealt with, my father would work on them there, usually cursing loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear. Carl, my grandmother’s neighbor, would see my father going outside to open up the hood of the car. He would immediately grab a lawn chair, and pick up some task that he could do while sitting there, and position himself so he could watch my father work on the car. He enjoyed watching my father curse his head off—it was like free performance art. I remember coming home from my college classes, and seeing Carl by the fence. He’d wave to me and say “Boy, you should have heard your father today. He had to change the brakes on his car, and he was having a bad time of it!” And his eyes would light up with glee.

I often wonder if my mother also enjoys my father’s performances. They’re not limited to auto mechanics—he swears just as much at re-flooring jobs, fixing broken drawers, and electrical re-wiring. While my mother complains about his swearing, she also tends to say things while he’s working that only make him swear more. Not at her—he wouldn’t swear at my mother. One afternoon he was nearly purple with rage when a drawer he was trying to fix wouldn’t go back onto the track properly. After 3 hours of fighting with it, he finally got it into place. My mother walked in at that moment, looked at it, and said, “That doesn’t look right. You’ll have to do it again.” I braced myself for the explosion, but my father just turned to her and said, “Isn’t there somewhere else you have to be right now?”

In any event, I believed for years that you couldn’t repair anything unless you swore at it. You may laugh about it, but there is yet another recent study that suggests that swearing can minimize pain. So, maybe there’s something to it after all.

If you’ll excuse me, there’s somewhere else I have to be right now. Preferably any place that doesn’t have blaring televisions and attack trees.

Tuesday Morning Before Work

On Saturday I took a ride up to Hudson, New York, to visit the BCB art gallery. I missed the opening for the latest exhibition, Lifelike, so I wanted to see it before it ended, and say hello to Bruce Bergmann, the owner. The exhibit had some very interesting images of ordinary things--Lynn Itzkowitz's striking images of clothes tossed aside cause you to do a double take, and Ching Ho Chen's fruit images that was described as "exploding" the fruit, though it looks more like a very detailed cutting of the inside of various fruits. Lucio Pozzi's works were lush, but too bright for my personal taste--I tended to prefer the more subdued work of Camilo Kerrigan.

I also noticed that some of John Foxx's pieces that didn't sell were up, most notably "Avenue of Trees", and the large image of the angel from the Quiet Man CD cover (don't remember what that's called offhand). At only $450 someone should snatch this one up. Do it before I do. According to Bruce "He Walked For Years" was the most popular print; with it's astonishing perspective of the man walking through a row of towering sculptures in a hallway, it's no wonder.

After visiting with Bruce I stopped by to see Dini and Windle at the Inn at the Hudson, though not for long, as they were in the middle of renovations. They did show me their beautiful new kitchen and office space, and the new tiled floors with radiant heat. Absolutely beautiful.

Walking down Warren Street, I am always amazed at how busy and quiet it is at the same time. There are cars everywhere, yet I can hear my own footsteps when I walk. I had to stop for food and some of the local beer (C.H. Evans, which makes a fantastic nut brown ale) before heading home.

On the way home, I noticed a sign on the Thruway for a company--Tectonic Engineering. What exactly do they engineer? Earthquakes? Maybe they should hire Deepak Chopra--I hear his Shiva mantras caused the Baja earthquake. I'll reserve comment, but Phil Plait had some interesting things to say about that assertion.

Upon arriving home, I checked my mail, social networking, forums, and such. On the John Foxx Metamatic forum, I learned that John was at the opening for the Mirrorball exhibition in London. I was rather upset to learn this, because I'd been invited to the opening, but wasn't going to spend $1,000 on airfare, hotel, and such if John "might" be there. I'd e-mailed his manager, but got no response; of course, they're very busy right now, so I'm not really surprised. I blame myself for not following up on it. Still, I usually get an instinct about these long trips, a sense of "you must go", or "eh, don't bother". I didn't get a strong sense I should go to this, so maybe in the grand scheme of things I wasn't supposed to go. At least that's how I'm consoling myself. I like seeing John at smaller events; while I like to see whatever it is that's going on--music, art, film--I also like to talk to him. That's harder to do at large scale events.
But life goes on, and I'll just have to wait for the next time.

I saw an article this morning about a retired Bishop discussing the Church's responsibility for the ongoing pedophilia scandal. Just kidding--he blamed the Jews. The Jewish blogger who wrote about this accurately noted that the Church has pretty much blamed everyone but themselves for what is going on. They have taken the step of changing their policy--bishops are now to go straight to the police in such cases, and not go through Church hierarchy. I don't know that they can avoid blame for past events, though. There's been talk in Europe about bringing criminal charges against the Pope for endangerment of children--and not just from Richard Dawkins.

I'm starting to think people are crazy. Maybe this should be no great revelation. But there seem to be more crazy people now, or maybe I'm just aware of more of them. Maybe I'm crazy myself. If everyone is crazy, do we have to change the rules to make the crazy people normal? Would I rather be the crazy one under such circumstances?

I think I need more coffee...

New Story, "Anima" Published in DGR

Another story in my ongoing archetype series, "Anima", came out in print at Dark Gothic Resurrected magazine this month. You can buy a paper copy or download the e-book here.

As a contributor, I get an e-copy of the journal, but I also ordered the print version, and it's huge--you get a lot of stuff for ten bucks, and there are a lot of good stories in this issue if you're a fan of horror and/or "dark" literature. Enjoy.

Spirited Restaurants

I’m passionate about good restaurants. I don’t always like to spend time cooking after work or on the weekends, so I will often go out to eat. I like places that have fresh food, make their own beer, and that have a pleasant ambiance in general. Restaurants situated in old colonial homes or taverns are my favorite, because I love the creaky floorboards, beamed ceilings, and fireplaces that are trademarks of those places. I am almost the opposite of a vegetarian in terms of what I like to eat, so I tend to prefer taverns and pubs, though I also have a weakness for good Italian restaurants. It may not surprise you that another secondary criteria for choice of restaurant is whether or not it has a reputation for being haunted. I say “secondary” because these places can be few and far between, and if I had to choose between good food and a haunted reputation, I’d choose the former over the latter.

I have to say that I’ve never gotten any sense of the paranormal in any of the reputedly “haunted” restaurants in Western New Jersey. I’ve only had experiences that might have been paranormal in three places (my grandmother’s old house, my former house in Raven Rock, and a museum in Ottawa, Canada). Still, such events don’t happen on cue, and one never knows. I find such experiences more interesting than frightening.

If you live along the Delaware River, or even in Western Morris County, you might visit one of these reputedly haunted places. I’ve been to most of them:

The Publick House (Chester, NJ): This was featured in the October 2009 issue of Weird NJ, and used to be the last stop on the Chester ghost tour when it was still extant. The Publick House, as the name implies, used to be a house of prostitution as well as a tavern, and the legend is that the owner’s mother disapproved of the scandalous nature of her son’s business, and they fought about it for her entire life. When she died, her son buried her in what is now the parking lot of the Publick House. When the restaurant used to function as a B&B, guests staying in the mother’s old room were supposed subjected to furniture moving by itself, things being thrown, beds levitating, and pictures spinning on the wall. There is only the restaurant now, and I’ve always had good meals there, though I’ve heard mixed reviews from others. They have a gelato bar in the back room, and the gelato is phenomenal.

The Inn of the Hawke (Lambertville, NJ): I learned recently that this was haunted, and I was surprised. I haven’t been there in a long time, but the food and service was always very good. Supposedly there is a ghost that throws pots and pans, and pulls pictures off the walls.

The Logan Inn (New Hope, PA): I’ve not been to the Logan, as there are so many restaurants in New Hope—but it is supposedly haunted by a Revolutionary War solider and 2 phantom children. There is also supposed to be the scent of lavender perfume from a woman who drowned in the nearby river.

The National Hotel (Frenchtown, NJ): I’ve not been here either, though I’d like to check it out now that it’s reopened. This was the watering hole for Annie Oakley and the members of Bill Cody’s Wild West Show when they were touring the area. I’ve not heard specifics about paranormal activity, but it has a haunted reputation.

The Sergeantsville Inn (Sergeantsville, NJ): Not far from the last covered bridge in New Jersey on Route 604, there are supposedly ghostly footsteps and other happenings in parts of the restaurant. I can also vouch for the excellent food here.

Charlie Brown’s (Hackettstown, NJ): Charlie Brown’s is a franchise that you’ll find all over the state, that is known for its steaks (which are actually really good, and they also make really delicious garlic potatoes). This particular Charlie Brown’s is in an historical building that was a brothel at one time. A child was also supposed to have died tragically in the building, and can be heard crying. Most of the activity is on the upper floors, according to local paranormal investigators.

Water’s Edge Café (Jefferson, NJ): I haven’t been here in years—not since I was dating the man who is now my ex-husband, as he lived near the restaurant. I can’t even remember what the food is like. But the dark figure of a heavy-set man is supposedly seen on the staircase of the restaurant.

Knotty Pine Pub (Wharton, NJ): I’ve never been here, but there are reports of sounds (moving objects, footsteps) in the empty attic of the restaurant. This is on my list of places to visit, unless my Wharton friends recommend otherwise.

If you know of others in the area, feel free to let me know in the comments. I should add that two well-known haunted restaurants, “Jimmy’s Haunt” in Morristown and “The Union Hotel” in Flemington, are no longer in business. Jimmy’s is gone entirely—they pushed the building down and put up a TD Bank in its place. That was the site of the famous Sayer family murders. The Union Hotel is across the street from the Flemington Courthouse, where the Lindbergh trial took place. There are supposed hauntings in the upper floors of the hotel. Sadly, they went out of business a year or two ago. Their main dining room didn’t have much ambience, but their food was spectacular. Hopefully someone will buy it and reopen it.

Easter Rambles

The West New Jersey countryside is an explosion of yellow at this time of year. At 6:45 this morning I watched a huge orange sun come up over rows of forsythia and daffodils. The valley roads are still wet, as they had massive flooding from the storms earlier this week. Under “things I am grateful for”, I can check off “not so much rain over my house”. I had some minor flooding, but nothing terrible. Nothing at all like the coastal cities, that had 7 inches or more of rain.

This Tuesday I sat in a hospital waiting room while a friend had some surgery, and was subjected to the barrage of daytime TV. I’ve always found the televisions in waiting rooms of any kind to be totally obnoxious. Toyota service department waiting rooms tuned to Fox News. Hospital waiting rooms tuned to Good Morning America and the View. The local garage’s waiting room has a show that is supposed to educate customers about getting car maintenance, but the only thing I’ve learned is that these shows are relentlessly annoying. In any case—after a long wait for my friend, I was certain I was going to pull my own head off if I had to wait any longer and the programming switched to soap operas. I suppose that the upshot of this is that I now remember why I quit watching television at all.

Things are quieter today, and I no longer feel like I’m adrift in a sea of pointless thoughts. (You might disagree.) Today is the Christian Good Friday. For whatever reason, the church near my house likes to have a procession with all the congregants, and they walk right down the middle of the road past my house. I can only imagine what would happen if a car suddenly came barreling down the road towards them. I wouldn’t mind their procession as much if they didn’t feel compelled to look in the windows of my house as they pass by, and give me a strange dirty looks. I actually did go to a service at this church once, just to see what it was like. The pastor gave the most odious homily I’ve ever heard, and his personality almost edges out my Mom’s pastor for contemptuousness and self-righteousness. Learning that a parishioner gave him a birthday gift of a fireworks display—held in the cemetery (!)—that cost almost $20,000 did not really do much to change my initial impression of him. You could help a lot of poor people with $20,000. I know the nuns that live in the convent on the property are sweet, and many of the parishioners are nice. Except the ones that look in my window.

Speaking of the Church—it’s hard to even look at e-mail these days without seeing something about what The Atlantic Monthly is calling “Papalgate”. They have an interesting article likening the current scandal in the Vatican to Nixon’s Watergate scandal. The parallels are rather striking. It would be very easy for me to write a very long blog posting about the whole thing. However, I’m going to limit myself and keep my comments brief.

There was (and probably still is) a Church policy that espoused silence in matters of priestly pedophilia. The most credible thing for the Church to do is to admit the obvious, and take active steps to make changes—prosecuting the guilty, reforming their process for psychologically evaluating those entering the priesthood. Instead, they are 1. Pointing the finger at dioceses for “not doing the right thing” when the dioceses get their orders from the top of the food chain; 2. Blasting the media for uncovering the story and making the Pope into a victim, 3. Claiming that demons in the Vatican are responsible for the transgressions, and 4. Remaining silent on the relevant damning evidence. In short, they are living in a vacuum, or perhaps think they are still living in the Middle Ages. I think the Vatican hierarchy should all be fired Donald Trump-style, and they should bring in some replacements that actually give a crap about people and the realities of life.

I’ll stop there, and wish those who celebrate a Happy Easter in spite of that. After all, one’s spirituality is not about an organization. And hoping that when I visit my Mom she’s bought me some of that crappy Easter chocolate that tastes so awesome with peanut butter.