Ramblings from the Desert

The man who trades freedom for security does not deserve nor will he ever receive either. ~Benjamin Franklin

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Location: New Mexico

Author of the urban fantasy novel, The Music of Chaos, and the paranormal romance, The Canvas Thief.

Friday, March 17, 2006

Eat Your Vegetables

I lurched out of morning like Lazarus returning from the dead, only not terribly grateful about the prospect. I'm not a morning person.

The morning routine included my usual "ass in the permanent dent in the couch, observing the obsurdities of mankind" ritual, a.k.a, watching the morning news.

This morning's stupidity is brought to you by the Catholic Church. Since St. Patties Patty's Day is on a Friday, and this conflicts with the eatin' of corned beef, the local dioceses decreed that it was "o-tay" to consume the flesh of cattle.

When I was a kid, Catholics annoyed the shit out of me. This due in part because Catholics were the only religion in town. (Catholics have long since been knocked off the top of my Irritating Sect list by evangelical Christians.) Come this time a year and all would be a-flutter with the Lenten sacrifice game. I.e., "What are you giving up?/it's not as big a sacrifice as mine."

"I'm giving up chocolate," some would say, as though they were giving up...breathing. At the time, I needed friends, so I kept my thoughts to myself. But my reaction, then (and now) was to think, "Shee-it. Jesus got hung on a cross. You, on the other hand, are giving up a sugary snack. Forget Jesus. You are a true martyr.

"How about, instead giving up something, you try something new for a month? Like treat others with compassion and practice charity. You know, like Jesus would do?"

"Oh, but Pat, you don't get it. It's a symbolic."

Right. Whatever. Like the "no meat" thing. Amusingly, many of my Catholic friends would eat fish on Fridays. Ah, I guess they were adhering to the doctrine of many vegetarians. You know, the old, "I'm a vegetarian. I don't eat beef, pork or chicken, but I do eat fish." Uh-huh. Fish is a vegetable, don't ya know?

If it has eyes, a mouth and an asshole, and some sort of brain, it's meat. (The absence of a brain, I guess, means some humans aren't meat, but vegetable.)

It would seem, if the local clergy can issue an ad hoc exemption to the "no meat" rule, then eating Elsie the Cow on Fridays probably isn't that big a sin in God's big play book. What next, "no adultery, except on Tuesdays and some bank holidays"?

Blogging has been sporadic because I'm still consumed by the current writing project. I'm writing the last scene. This is partially a stalling technique to avoid a crunchy, ouchy scene earlier in the book. The last scene, which mirrors the first in the novel, is easy and all about the Happily Ever After while tying up one loose end.

The crunchy scene, earlier, involves the heroine being cruel to the hero. She isn't doing this willingly, but I still feel sorry for my hero. I need to be in a grim, angry mood to write the scene. This being Friday, I'm not gloomy enough. Monday might be a good day to torture my characters, perhaps.

I wonder where I can get me some corned beef?

Happy St. Patrick's Day.


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