Fuck You, Memories.

Detail from Bronzino's Venus, Cupid, Folly and Time*.

This isn't going to be a nice blog post.  It's going to be a bad one.  The bulk of this will involve some hostile, vicious anger I've held in for a long time and, as a result, I'm going to put it under the cut.  Click Read More if you care to continue.

But for those of you who'd prefer not to read these words I advise you to steer clear.  Hyperbole and a Half is back up so maybe you'd prefer to drop over and see what Allie has to say about depression.  It's accurate, let me tell you.  Make sure you read Part One as well as Part Two.  She's been out of action for a long time and sorely missed by everyone.

In any case, to continue.  Again, if this will upset or bore you don't read it.  I won't think any less of you if you don't.

* = This is actually Envy but I couldn't find any decent pictures of anger or rage.

R.I.P Shinji

Not long after a particularly harrowing break-up I came into possession of a pure-bred Siamese kitten. He was such a small thing, all ears and feet, when I saw him at the breeder's place. His father was yowling at me like a thing from the Underworld as I perused the little balls of fluff.

Secular Australia Now!

Prometheus Medallion^

I don't usually write political posts.  People who know me know that I avoid getting involved in politics if I can at all help it.

There's a number of reasons for this.  In part it's an acknowledgement of ignorance - I'm not very familiar with political matters and as I don't have any particular desire to delve deeply enough into that quagmire to feel I have the right to comment, I simply by and large don't.

I do, however, have some extremely firm views about certain subjects.  And, so, I'm writing a quasi-political post right now.

This is part of my argument for a review of the secular nature of Australia and its government.  Read on if you want to see more.

The Seduction of Solitude

Solitude, Charles S. Pearce, 1889

Sometimes I'm in a real people-mood.  Sometimes the only thing I really want to do is throw myself into the deep end and mingle, talk, chat, laugh, hug.

This isn't one of those times.

This is one of the other times, one of those moments when I wonder if I really do have any business interacting with other people - those outside an extremely select few.

How do we get to this?  How do we manage to wrap ourselves into knots?

I can't ever finish this sentence properly.

My mind is awhirl with self-doubt and questions.  I can't think straight.  I hurt from so many emotional wounds and yet I can't let myself wallow for long, will not give into the seduction of solitude.

Anyone who's been in this mindset knows what that is.  For those of you lucky enough not to, I'll endeavour to explain.

The seduction of solitude is that urge that makes you want to retreat from the rest of the world.  It's the part of you that wonders if the outside world isn't a place you should be in.  It's the urge in the back of your head that says, when you look at the door, 'There's nothing worth bothering with out there.'

We know it's not true, of course... most of the time.  Reclusive people give in to it.  Almost everyone gives in to it some times.  Hermits give in completely.

I want to give in to it right now.

But I won't.


It's getting harder and harder to resist as I get older.  Some days it feels like there'd be nothing better than to collect together those few people I always want around me and stick just to them, to ignore the outside world entirely.  It's one step away from a much darker thought that I'm not going to allow myself.

Why am I even bothering to blog this?  Blogs are supposed to be about interesting things.

Musing: Menopause Double-Standards

Something I've hated for a very long time now is the double-standard. Of all social injustices the double-standard seems the most prevalent, most often excused, most insidious.

I also consider it to be one of the most damaging, not only for its immediate effects but also for how dreadfully easy it is to fall into this nasty little trap.

One that has been on my mind recently involves menopause... sort of.

God is Not Heterosexual

Recently I posted a Facebook update. It was the same as the title of this blog post, but in all caps.

God is not heterosexual.

I got a variety of responses ranging from clever to honest to humorous, and mentioned that I'd post a response when I was feeling less ranty.

This is that response... And it's not very rantless.

Rachel Claus is coming to town...

Yes, you read that rightly. Rachel is coming!!

For those of you who don't know she's a lovely woman from Maine in the US of A (also known as 'America' - it's a big continent in the northern hemisphere somewhat to the east of Japan, if you're wondering). We've been friends with her for some considerable time, now, but as we met online we've never actually seen her face to face.

On Friday morning that changes.

She'll be staying for just under a week - not long for an international trip, I know, but there you go - so we'll be offline for most of that week trying to stuff as much Australia into her as we can. There will be meat pies; there will be kangaroos.