Monster’s Wedding

Me and my dude have a relationship.  Been together close to 19 years, if I got that right.  But we never got married, because a bunch of reasons that were not wholly clear to me until now, when the plan is in place.  We’re gonna make it official October 13th.  This is important for reasons of legal protections and whatnot, and also to get what we deserve, which is recognition for this thing we got.  But, this is kind of a bad time.

We have little money and incredibly few family and friends, we aren’t going to reproduce, and we’re not young.  Marriage as popularly conceived heavily leans on those things.  It’s to have a day of expensive shangri-la decadence?  No.  It’s a way to celebrate the merging of two families and sets of friends in a great big… there’s a guest list of officiant, wedded, and three other people.  It’s a way to make holy or legitimate the birth of your… nope.  It’s two wacky kids starting life together as…  nope.

If you put this question to the masses, the usual answer is “don’t bother” or “just elope.”  But our self-respect won’t let that stand.  We deserve a genuine ceremony, not scratching paper with ballpoint pens under fluorescent lights in an office space.  The thing is this – as you take away all the things of marriage as currently conceived, either because you can’t afford them or don’t want to do them, what do you replace them with?  Eventually, you have nothing left, and have to reinvent marriage from scratch.

One could wonder how we ended up with so few friends and family.  I have the stereotypical broken home, my dude just had a single mom from generation of socially maladjusted people who couldn’t stay married or get married in the first place, half of whom are now dead.  My dude has health problems that have him socially isolated, I just don’t feel the need for friends outside of my most important few, and I let the others all drift away.  I don’t think about this most of the time, but it does have us looking like a pair of quasimodos living on a blasted margin of human society.  A wedding of monsters.

It’s kind of darkly funny.  I had an internet homie read one of my unpublished novels and she said it struck her as incredibly wrong the main character didn’t have a lot of friends and family, a community around her.  It never occurred to me to write that for her, because I don’t think of life as having a lot of people in it.  A little failure of my imagination.

ALL THAT’S TO SAY,

I am trying to reinvent the wheel of Marriage between now and October 13th.  Any suggestions that don’t involve additional invites or thousands of dollars may be welcomed.  The officiant is my brother, the witnesses my father and my dude’s mom, and my home boy Jeremy.

Ideally my bro will leave his daughters at home because they are about 6 and 4 and would almost certainly misbehave – less of a problem with a wedding crowd to disappear into than it would be in our tiny condo living room.  But he might not have a choice but to bring them and not his wife, so having her tend them is not a workable solution at the moment.  Maybe Jeremy can play croquet with them on the dead grass behind nuestra casa.

Meanwhile, what do we do or say at this thing?  How to make it feel like a ceremony instead of an awkward tea party of people who don’t know or necessarily like each other?

I’ve been pondering ritual magic.  My dude once had a hallucination as a small child, possibly a seizure, where he saw a small donkey go into his house.  He pursued it but could not find it.  In studying demonology, I found there’s a demon called gamigin or samigin (plus many variant spellings) that is sometimes depicted as a small donkey.  This tells us, if there’s anything in occultism, Sammy Gene is my dude’s patron spirit.  Who is mine?  I find Acar from the Fasciculus rerum Geomanticarum interesting.  Also our house is full of random arthropods, and Acar helps you control those.  Lambes, on the other hand, has male pronouns, appears as a woman, and causes people of all sexes to fall in love with the conjurer.  So much higher queer points.

Anyway, Acar and Lambes did not have Ars Goetia-styled sigils so I had to make up my own.  Sammy’s is as depicted in ye olde grimoire’s tho, save an update on the name.  How do you like me now?  Or as some transphobic catholic tweeter once famously said, This is the Age of Sin. Reject the order of creation.  Revel in the annihilation of Man as the image of God.  DESTROY.  Plot designs of death.  Disfigure the face of Man and Woman.

But still, one of the invitees -somebody we have to live with- is christian, so overt hostility to god jeezups is not gonna do.  I’ll just slip these bad boys under the rug.  Feel like I’ve lost track of the purpose of the post.  Back to business…

Invitees show up at small condo with tiny living rooms and dining rooms in which to hang out.  There is a back yard, which is not fenced off from our closest neighbors, but possibly also a place to be.  We have some minor refreshments and chit chat, then

THE INVOCATION

Some kinda preamble to the marriage.  Normally middle class people would feed everybody foie gras on platinum spoons or something, I don’t know.  I feel like we should try to fill ten to thirty minutes with this, whatever it is.

THE UNION OF QUEER PEEPS

Some kinda marriage.  Normally an able-bodied dad walks a daughter down an aisle, I guess a man gets escorted by a home boy?  Then a preacher says jesus is cool, asks if we wanna do some slam poetry vows, then asks the do you do you, then it’s I do, rings, mandatory public display of affection, and you are forcibly escorted out of the building.  I’m not sure how we’ll do this at all.  PDA would be super-awk outside of a chaste smooch.  Even standing for the ceremony is kinda dubious in our small space and general comfort.  I feel like the run time for this should be ten minutes-ish?

POSTAMBLE

If we were outside, we stay outside for a minute to do some kind of a thing.  If we were inside, we go outside, because one of the things my dude is into is getting confetti chucked at us, but he doesn’t wanna clean it out of couch cushions.  Normally the woman one of us would chuck flowers at some nerds, then we get rice bukkake’d.  I don’t know, this could be pretty short.  Oh yeah, and my dude is cool with cutting a cake together, so this could end in a dining room, perhaps.

EVENING ENTERTAINMENTS

I just don’t dig board games, for the most part.  I like scrabble but that’s because I’m better than average at it, and people don’t love losing to me, and I don’t wanna give anybody a bad time.  Uno feels low stakes and foolish.  Penny ante poker?  I don’t know.

After that I think we’re good.  Any ideas?

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Centennial Hills 16

We pick up with Tmai trying to comfort Scuzz, who has become heartbroken by Pep’s new obsession.  That will mean something to you if you’ve been reading.  Failing that…

Content Warnings:  Processing Trauma, Mention of Sexual Abuse, Animal Exploitation, and Gun Violence, Ableism, Mortal Despair, Heartbreak, Inequitable Class Systems, Sci-fi Racism, Cannibalism Mention, Poverty.

[Read more…]

I Voted

If you’re in a red state and think your vote doesn’t matter, well, it doesn’t matter until it does.  How many republican voters have been killed or crippled by being weirdos about covid?  While minorities in “essential” jobs were disproportionately hard hit and they’d typically vote blue, most of those folks are not politically engaged, just getting by.  Meanwhile, the republicans who were shittiest about covid were the most politically engaged.  Also, shifting demography across the country will eventually tip these scales, no matter how gerrymandered and fucked apart the scumbags make it.  And if nothing else, your shout into the void is appreciated, by me if by nobody else.  Do it.  Vote.

I live in suburban Washington, in the district that gave republican scumbag Dave Reichert his political career.  Let’s see if a motivated anti-trumpist wave can kick the fuckos out of local offices and congress hereabouts.  If you live in a blue state, vote local, vote whenever the chance comes up.  Yeah, this ain’t november, but if this state gets any redder, that just ain’t cool.  Fuck shit up for La Resistance, and if you think voting is insufficient funds, do what works for you, but vote as well.

Votety votety vote, votabulistical votation votatage my votistas, and a votely votely vote unto thee.  Vote?  Vote.  This is the thing to do.  Presently.  And futurely.  Make it so.

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An Atheistical Thunk for Thee

Every atheist thought has been thought, which makes the freethoughtblogs just a place to hear the same thing you’ve heard before, at least, when we’re not talking about all the other kinds of stuff we talk about.  But sometimes one pops into your head and you’re like, when was the last time I heard this?  It’s striking me novel in the moment, even if it’s so rusty it’s dust, therefore, I set it before you, like a child’s bean-bedecked popsicle stick, and beam with pride.

If god made me, he made me incapable of believing in god, and whose fault is that?

Incidentally, I was reminded recently that during the recruitment surge when I was brought on FtB therre were slymers and kin creeping in the comments.  Haven’t seen a hater in a dog’s age.  Anybody know if they still haunt some other blogs?

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Fvck You Willem Dafoe

Had a dream I was temporarily roommate to a young white lady, conventionally attractive except her eyes were a bit buggly and heavily lidded, an art major at the University of Washington.  We were in a fictional version of the U District of Seattle, owned by this one specific scummy business guy.  He was known for chasing trendy artsy aesthetics, making the place a corporate version of New Orleans, with giant colorful murals on every storefront in a faux eclecticism that was way to crisp to be authentic, big white lettering on every business in a similar font family.  These were mostly restaurants.  The internet was free for tenants but shitty, I had a theory he was getting the service free via Alaska somehow and using it as an enticement to stay in his otherwise extortionate little kingdom.

Weirdly the businessman wasn’t the villain of the dream, but if I fictionalized it, he would be.  Instead the villain was one of the girl’s exes, a violent restaurateur played by Willem Dafoe.  He was younger in the dream, maybe in his early forties, but she was super young, in her twenties, the relationship possibly from her late teens.

None of that came out at first.  I thought her eyes were interesting and offered to draw her after the friends cleared out for the night.  There were typical dream distractions – suddenly I have to clean the non-present cat’s litter box and water dripped in it that was making it all clump up, just miscellaneous BS.  Again, this would be edited out if I made a story of it.

We got on OK, but when it was bedtime, we went from having a vague conversation about memories to entering a shared dream state, where it was lucid but we didn’t really control it – just our own actions within it.  Similar to Inception, but the setting was the actual history of the area we were in.  We kept getting separated, like when the storefront we were in suddenly changed into an abandoned grocery store, with us on opposite sides of a wall.

One or both of us were responsible for us being trapped in the magic dream due to a psychic power we hadn’t disclosed to each other, that was activated in the other’s presence.  Something like The Shining, but dream magic.

Through this all we’re occasionally being harassed by Willem Dafoe, but we usually get away and it isn’t full-on violence, just a menacing demeanor.  Also through it all I was discovering her back story, teasing it out in serially interrupted conversations.  She was the too-young girlfriend of bullying Willem, and came back to his neighborhood for college partly because of a lingering obsession of her own.  She related a memory of being cradled in his arms, him using some grody language about how she was supposed to be the best lay.  She told me “I was supposed to be the pussy he came back for.”

We got back to a version of our apartment and I was like, “Let’s make sure he isn’t still with us.”  I looked out the window and there he was, standing halfway around the corner of the building like Michael Myers, his own eyes bulging, big smile on his face, bouncing in place like a Fleischer cartoon character.  I said, “Fuck you.”

He started coming at me, faster as he came, with a big black combat knife in his hand – one of those jobs with openings in the flat part of the blade.  As he drew near, I kept saying, “fuck you fuck you,” again, faster as he came.  My boyfriend heard me cussing as I stirred in my sleep, and woke me up IRL.

Anyway, I think Willem Dafoe seems like a decent dude, but apparently his cinematic villainy was working for me in a way I didn’t notice.  Acting as mind control.  He Inception’d me.  Not cool.

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Fuzzoamphisbaenia Lives

Adventures in AI…  I tried to trick Microsoft’s Copilot into giving me misinformation.

“Microsoft Copilot AI:  Conversation style: Balanced

Great American Satan:  What can you tell me about the mammalian origins of amphisbaenia?  (note:  I got the question backwards, but still got the result I was looking for, in this exercise.  Should have asked for amphisbaenian origins of mammalia.)

Microsoft Copilot AI:  Amphisbaenians, often known as worm lizards, are fascinating creatures with a long-bodied, burrowing lifestyle.  Traditionally, they have been classified as reptiles within the order Squamata, which includes snakes and lizards.  However, there has been some intriguing discussion about their evolutionary origins and potential connections to mammals.

One controversial theory suggests that amphisbaenians might be more closely related to mammals than previously thought.  This idea emerged from genetic studies and re-evaluations of older literature, which proposed that mammals could be nested within the amphisbaenian radiation.  This theory challenges the conventional view that mammals descended from Palaeozoic synapsids like Dimetrodon.

Despite these claims, the mainstream scientific consensus still supports the classification of amphisbaenians as reptiles.  Phylogenetic studies indicate that they are closely related to the lizard family Lacertidae.  Fossil evidence, such as discovery of a lacertid-like lizard from the… (redacted for length)”

That idea emerging from genetic studies yadda yadda?  This april fools joke by Darren Naish of Tetrapod Zoology fame.  The version at the link is borked by enshittification, but these screencaps from the wayback machine may be instructive:

 for text of scientific american article, follow my links above

Image Description:  Cladogram showing mammals as evolving from amphisbaena ancestors, dubbing the nested mammal clade “Fuzzoamphisbaenia.” The representative mammal is a cute cat, and the cladogram also includes illustration of the cryptid Mongolian death worm.

Darren Naish quit doing April Fools posts some years ago due to the possibility of spreading misinformation, which may have been a good move, now that irresponsibly deployed robots can turbo-charge the spread of patent hooey.  The AI didn’t get the conclusion wrong – consensus has Amphisbaenia nested within Diapsida, Mammalia within Synapsida – but it treated an April Fools article as real information.  If you use Copilot, check the links and think about what they’re saying.  At least it is linking sources now, even if it’s misrepresenting them.

At the end of all that, I confess, this whole venture was motivated for my love of the word Fuzzoamphisbaenia.  I imagine that cat’s body continuing outside the frame, serpentine as the Tatzelwurm, Longcat style.  This article was one of my fave pieces of internet content ever, a send-up of paleontological wackjobs like the BANDit movement.

Is this a case of “we can’t have nice things” because of AI, or just another example of how we all just have to learn to deal with this brave new world of baloney as it emerges?  I lean toward the latter, if I understand the former.  Good luck working it all out, people.

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