Session August 10 2019

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If this were a pessimistic tale it would end here.
by TNT

The Mithras we once knew and worshipped in forbidden secret ceremonies was no longer available for consulting in prophecy and wisdom.

Naturally, we wee all devastated. The books were elementary and the priest and priestesses of Mithras were long gone - either to the Inquisition (burned as heretics) or they went home to their cottages to stay with their grandchildren and play with their dogs or other domesticated animals. The Great Bull - the Wild, Horned Beast - shaggy as a muskox, huge as a primal prehistoric creature - were gone. It was sad to see the world change and no longer held as sacred in ancient magnificence. The majestic animals were extinct. The Gods no longer spoke to men. Even Pan was dead s it had been announced all over the Asiatic coastline and in all the Empires. The people who had once been so free to worship diverse deities and to think what-ever they wished to believe in - was imposed by the Cult of Jewish God and Constantinople - where the Emperor had dismissed 333 Bishops - kept for his own worship only 33 - who were sycophants and loyal to his doctrines - one of which was the worship and complete control of the autocrat and his family. It was the end of diversity and the beginning of tyranny.

The usefulness of a religion to influence and control the population was an idea that had begun the whole Papacy and Catholic - and Orthodox tyrannies - until, well, if this were a pessimistic tale it would end here.

But the French Revolution and the Enlightenment as the Democracy Ideal of the New World began Democracy (imperfect as it was and is). Democracy has still been under great stress now as corporations buy government posts and influence to overcome voters' choices.

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Some believe the Smithsonian has a huge underground warehouse in New York City.

By CC

The Full Moon Party – the World’s Most Infamous Beach Party – registered with the Federal Election Commission as a political party on the Harvest Moon of 2019. They felt passionately that the world needed a Full Moon Party as an alternative to the vicious, backbiting, even lethal war between the existing political parties. But they were all drunk when they decided this was a good idea, and hung over when they actually signed the papers, which made them less than attentive to detail. 

Nor were they a cohesive group. Many believed in UFOs, a few that the earth was flat, and some – to this day - believe the Smithsonian has a huge underground warehouse in New York City.

Their candidate for President in 2020 was Brock Stinson, who was quickly disqualified due to his egregious and obvious steroid use, which helped him get girls at their Full Moon meetings but damaged his credibility in debates.

They did not nominate a second candidate, and went back to the beach one night after Brock’s ignominious failure to sacrifice him and send his body out to sea on a flaming dinghy. They felt it a decisive moment in world history, as now there was no alternative to global annihilation. All they could do was party harder.

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They held up their goblets to offer a toast.
By RMAF

Ex-city girl turned jungle girl, Wanna Mate Badly, was lonely in the wild jungle after her airplane crashed into the canopy of dense trees many years ago.

Over the years, (she lost track of how many), Wanna has had many animal friends in the jungle. But one animal, had become special, a sloth, she named him, Mr. Slow Cum.

Over the long and lonesome years, they had become inseparable buddies. He had slowly become her special pal - a sorta mate, if you will. They had many good one-way conversations. Wanna was a good talker and Slow was a good listener.

After years of hoping and fervently hoping to get rescued by a pilot from the outside world, Wanna finally came to the conclusion that having Mr. Slow as a jungle mate was better than most of the men she had dated years ago when she lived back in the city.

Back in her smashed up air she still had a few unbroken wine goblets and a bottle of aged wine she was saving for a special occasion - like getting rescued. "Phooey on that idea," she scoffed. "The time for this wine to be enjoyed is now!" she shouted aloud. Slow jumped up and down in slow motion and clapped his furry paws and chattered with joy.

After Wanna finished reciting her made-up marriage vows and giving a slow kiss to her new furry husband, they held up their full wine goblets to offer a toast to themselves and to the energy spirits that lived somewhere near by them in the jungle.

Their honeymoon night was spent adoring each other while hanging upside down on a limb, holding hand and paws, admiring the full moon, making chattering love sounds, while eating green leaves, bananas and wild berries.

Suddenly, she smiled with giddy delight, as she thought to herself, "We are wildly elated! If only my ex fiancé back in the city, could see how happy we are now, how envious and jealous he would be!"

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I knew instinctively that I would rest better that night.

by CT

    

The sea voyage to the island had been fraught with danger.

    

We were threatened by pirates, buffeted by heavy winds, and nearly swamped by huge waves.  None of us slept well, at any time.

    

When we landed at the island, I kissed the solid ground.

    

I stood and saw the solemn statues facing out to sea.  I walked to the nearest one and gently stroked the elongated face. Such peace I felt.

    

Evening came, and I sheltered beneath the face.  I knew instinctively that I would rest better that night.

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What was I going to do? I was only the babysitter.
By BG

The baby had been at me all day long. At first babbling incessantly…then shouts, then wails; followed by stomping with arms flailing, which progressed into circling around me…subsequently progressing into a war dance type of event which I thought would never end. I was then being pummeled by tiny little fists. What was I going to do? I was only the babysitter. I had no experience with kids of my own. They weren’t teaching me about non-verbal communication in language class over at the high school. My hourly wage did not include combat pay.

I thought about it, but ruled out calling the parents. I didn’t want to tell them about it because I didn’t want them to lose faith in me and not hire me again. I needed them as clients. I needed the money. I had just started my babysitting career.

Well, stiff upper lip as the Brits say…I’d just hang in until something came up to resolve what was happening.

Just then, the phone rang…the parents were checking in. I told them all was well. They sounded relieved and said they were so happy because they thought it would be a tough day since there was no ice cream in the freezer.

After they hung up, I quickly looked for an alternative. There wasn’t much around, but I did it. Not a peep, not a punch after that! The parents could do damage control later……….

https://www.workitdaily.com/working-women-with-families/

On the sea below, there are three sailing ships.

By MD

If the saying “a picture is worth a thousand words” were true, I wouldn’t be writing this now.

I didn’t want to bring the baby to work that day, but my sitter called in sick and I had no backup plan.  So I held her on my lap and my little darling served as a human laptop while my electronic laptop sat ensconced on my desk.  Balancing my daughter awkwardly, I set down to work on my research.

         

As most people know, six-months old is the time of teething, and sweet Hannah began that process as soon as I began to type. Teething is a painful endeavor, and my baby surely communicated her distress. In no time, she was squirming and wailing.  I tried everything I could think of to comfort her: jiggling, bouncing, stroking her cheek—nothing worked.

         

Exasperated, and certainly experiencing some pain of my own from sitting in my twisted, sideways position, I turned Hannah toward the screen and keyed up Google to search for children’s stories.  A likely one popped up almost immediately, complete with music and narration added to the colorful illustrations.  Hannah ceased her caterwauling as the melody started to play for my selection of “The Adventures of Skinny, The Naughty Ship’s Cat.” A soothing female voice opened the story with the words “One dreary day, little Skinny, the forlorn cat looks out on the shoreline horizon to see what might be out there.” Hannah’s mouth fell open and she gurgled with delight. She reached toward the screen as the narrator continued in a silky voice “On the sea below, there are three sailing ships.”

In the final analysis, it wasn’t much of a story. But it kept Hannah quiet, distracted from her pain. She fell asleep before it ended. So I shut it down, quietly, quietly, and finally went back to work. And that’s the thousand words that go with this picture, and now my own story is finished.