Pisces 29° (March 19) Monday
Stockholm Syndrome Okay so here’s where I really need to tell the people what’s happening tomorrow. And in so doing articulate it to myself I suppose, which makes me feel dizzy just thinking about. But, let’s face it, I’ve been increasingly dizzy for years. Tis true. Which is the old way of saying True dat and no more efficient a one. What I didn’t expect to happen is that I feel most comfortable now sitting down and writing into this Blague than I feel doing anything else or nothing at all. At first this Blague held me hostage and now…well…
So, I have been writing my daily Cosmic Blague now for three years. I began in 2015 on the spring equinox, beginning at 0° Aries, the first sign of the zodiac, ushering in the astrological new year. Blague is the french word for joke; and, the original idea was to muse on the ways in which this is a funny universe, both ha-ha and not always, where we all feel the joke is rather on us; and I also wanted to bring in a mystical element citing things that are logically unexplainable about experience, primarily, my personal own. I have surely had my fair share of run-ins with the cosmos on that score. And, whether writing books or material to perform as Starsky + Cox on stage, I’ve always strived to mix the comic with the cosmic, since the world of metaphysics and esotericsm was my ironical ballywick. I say ironical because writing and performing comedy was what I worked at magazines or waited tables through my twenties to afford. Writing ultimately paid the bills; while what began emerging in me was something else, something different if not deeper. I was like an underage new ager. I was a myth head, which is better than the alternative. Like most adolescent witches, I scoured the local libraries for anything on the subject and for spells. I did incantations to Dionysus in the attic of a summer house wearing a toga-type thing I made out of old curtains; at seventeen I began reading some fairly esoteric materials. I studed the myth of the magi. I frequented good-vibe arcane bookshops (how I miss those) and knew which darker spots to eschew. I had met some sages and received transmissions and had “transformational experiences” whereby I experienced superhuman strength and capabilities; something opened up in me that, I realize, had opened up in my immediate ancestors, and so on, the Celtic side of my family being, well, what I used to call spooky in the extreme, but what I have grown to welcome as a gift. And when you have a gift, you see, you must give it away; that is one of the great paradoxes of life; and paradoxes, akin to irony, which is a cousin to the comedic, is an expression, I believe of the inherent humor in the universe and so it’s why I wanted to make this the subject of a Cosmic Blague. But I was saying…
Year one of my Blague. Should I then reiterate the above….?
So the Cosmic Blague is back. So I set out three years ago to mine and muse upon the workings of this, our funny universe, it’s inexplicable, mystical, metaphysical workings that so often hurl metaphorical pies in our faces, the comic and the cosmic inextricably linked. It wasn’t always easy, and year one I used training wheels—I mooned on the “Sabian Symbols” that mark each degree of the zodiac and day of the year, using that as a spring board to find the funny truth outside and in. Years two and three the training wheels were off, and it became more and more personal, and I realized I had this platform for exploring ideas, which might make their way into books or conversations or consultations with clients; and it also severed as an incubator for creative concepts and would-be projects, 99% of which will never see the light of day. Still you can’t steal them because they are my IP. Some days I wrote shopping lists but the important thing was to show up. The practice of dedicated writing of this nature has its own alchemy that takes over, asserting its necessity. Anyway, I thought to mark this milestone as I embark on year four; and I wanted also to say that I’ll be more mindful of sharing thoughts and feels, comic and cosmic, with you all more consistently. Our disillusionment with social media, its algorithms, and the world socieity now, in general, can lead us to detach, but I think that just might be an insidious plot. So I’ve decided to be more connected than ever….
I’m fucking crap at being “live”.
Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
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