Bi-Quintile Event Round-up

The Healthcare Public Option, the Drug Makers Lobby, the death of Oral Roberts, the appearance of the 4th Horseman of the Apocalypse, the test launch of the new Boeing 787 (http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/12/15/AR2009121501056.html ), and Santa’s arrest, highlight the events generated by the bi-quintile.

The Bi-quintile is part of a family or series of aspect that divide the 360 degree circular horoscope by fifths. For example, 72 degrees is one-fifth of the circle and 144 degrees is two-fifths of the circle. Robert Hand describes the bi-quintile in his book Horoscope Symbols as more powerful than all “three-series aspects except for the trine.” The Bi-quintile is noted as the aspect of talent and genius. Conversely, Bil Tierney in his book Dynamics of Aspect Analysis relies on Johann Kepler’s fifth harmonic definition calling the appearance of a bi-quintile a harbinger of “use and abuse of power and authority.”

This week we saw a lot of both. Yet, this particular bi-quintile theme seemed to center around the use and abuse of money. For example, during Climate Talks poor G-77 countries walked out because the reforms were too costly for them to consider. To save the talks, wealthier countries agreed to ante-up subsidies to assist their G-77 family (http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/12/15/AR2009121505077.html).

But the big bi-quintile lifesaver went to the Guantanamo Bay Detainees. Washington announced plans on Tuesday to renovate an old Illinois ‘Big House’ (prison) to contain them (http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/12/15/AR2009121501215.html )

The Bi-quintile aspect went exact on Monday, December 14 at 4:00 pm eastern standard time. World renown astrologers like Robert Hand and Bil Tierney note that no more than 1.5 degrees should be given as orb. So the bi-quintile’s effects will last until the morning of Thursday, December 17 eastern standard time. Featured in this week’s blog are three chart views. Up first is the Desire for Reform Eclipse and the Bi-quintile Transits and second is Johnny Depp.

.

Uses and Abuses


In this view the Desire for Reform Eclipse is the inner wheel and the Bi-quintile Transits is the outer wheel. My first visual observation were the two quincunxes (150 degrees) that sprang up as the bi-quintile transiting Sun made its 144 degree angle to the Desire for Reform Eclipse Sun. The quincunxes involve Saturn, Jupiter, Mars and the Vertex. Still holding is the square between cardinal houses in the Reform Eclipse. This involves Pluto, Capricorn ,10th house and transiting Saturn, Libra, 7th house. Below is a summary of the aspects and their meanings.

Transiting Neptune-Jupiter, Aquarius, 8th house quincunx Reform Eclipse Saturn-Vertex, Virgo, 7th house. The Vertex is anchoring this quincunx connection between Saturn and Neptune-Jupiter. The Saturn-Vertex combination often brings problems in the house that Saturn rules. In the Reform Eclipse chart, Saturn rules the 11th house. In the Bi-quintile Transit chart, Saturn rules the 8th and 9th houses. In the bi-wheel view shown, the transiting 8th and 9th houses fall in the Reform Eclipse’s 12th house of secret enemies. We met up with many illusions on the political front that confused us. Most notable was how President Obama led us to believe he was taking a hard line on Wall Street, then poof Citigroup and other bailed out banks walk away with a rosy tax break totaling in the tens of millions of dollars – at our expense no less! Was there some disconnect in the White House briefing room or was it another secret enemy disguised as an Obama supporter in the Oval Office who happened to help Obama write his very uranian Today Show comments. Where’s Rahm! This aspect also forms what Bil Tierney calls the upper quincunx or the “death quincunx.” Sadly, Oral Roberts the famous television evangelist died at age 91 (http://voices.washingtonpost.com/postmortem/2009/12/oral-roberts.html), and right before the bi-quintile vanished Cincinnati Bengals receiver Chris Henry died, one day after falling out of the back of a pickup truck in what authorities described as a domestic dispute with his fiancee.   He was 26. (http://msn.foxsports.com/nfl/story/121609-Bengals-Henry?GT1=39002)
Transiting Bi-quintile Sun Sagittarius, 7th house square Reform Eclipse Saturn-Vertex, 5th house. The Vertex is anchoring this quincunx connection between Saturn and Neptune-Jupiter. What could go wrong with the Sun in Sagittarius? It’s Christmas, the kids are coming out of school, the downtown streets are decorated, and Christmas Carols are playing on the radio. Well, Murphy’s Law emerged the winner morphing warm holiday tidings into a cold chill with Saturn-Vertex. This combination often brings problems in the house Saturn rules. In the Reform Eclipse Chart Saturn rules the 11th house. In the Transit chart Saturn rules the 8th and 9th houses. In the bi wheel view shown, the 8th and 9th houses of the transit chart move to the 12th house of secret enemies. Joe Lieberman rose as a secret yet powerful enemy of President Obama’s Healthcare Reform Bill. Lieberman successfully frustrated Obama’s efforts by winning his bid to remove the Public Option which would have rolled back the Medicare age to 55. Also under the influence of Saturn-Vertex were the G-77 nations  who responded with a protest when they saw they were being taken for a ride. Our G-77 folk stalled Climate Talks with a ‘walk-out’ until their funding issues were given an appropriate platform for discussion (http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/12/16/AR2009121600701.html ).
Transiting Vertex, Scorpio, 8th House quincunx Reform Eclipse Mars, Gemini, 3rd house. My followers already know that President Obama has received the most death threats of any president of our time – bar none. This was one of the reasons why I created this blog (http://nudeprovacateuse.wordpress.com/2009/11/30/the-rise-of-obama-history-in-the-making/ )  Yesterday, details of a plan were leaked outlining the military’s contingency actions in case violence sprang up in the US due to hostile War protests. Well, what’s the big secret?  Remember, the 8th house is also referred to as the house of secrets. The big secret we won’t hear from our President is the new scope of the War initiatives. I wrote about this in an earlier blog called Opium Heroin War (http://nudeprovacateuse.wordpress.com/2009/12/07/opium-heroin-war/)
Transiting Bi-quintile Sun within cusp of quincunx to Reform Eclipse Sun-Moon. Evidence of willful and intense desires surfaced this week as the Drug maker Lobbyist groups emerged as the gorilla in the room concerning healthcare reform. Their campaign contributions total in the hundreds of millions of dollars. Many U.S. Senators obviously took note of this (http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/12/16/AR2009121603027.html ).  Also of note was the protester dressed as the 4th Horseman in the Apocalypse outside the Copenhagen Climate Talks. This was obviously spurred by an intense desire for their message to be visualized – we got it!

Bi-quintile’s Creative Talent and Genius-Johnny Depp
http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000136/

People Magazine’s Sexiest Man of the Year shares his Cancerian North Node with Hugh Hefner. Realizing that it was not easy to get away with even the smallest of crimes, due in large part to Uranus and Mars in the first house, Depp lives largely isolated from the American public in the Bahamas and Europe. He needs this in order to balance his home, family, career and possibly some very special health condition he’s been managing since childhood. Home is very important to Depp who emerged from insecure yet middle class conditions. This means he had to work three times as hard as the next guy to mold the life he wanted to lead. Note Depp’s Chiron in Pisces, 8th house. Now remember, Depp was born in Kentucky but if you were to encounter him today his accent would probably resemble a blue blooded British bloke with ties to the crown. It appears, Depp worked hard to distance himself from a past that may have been a little too chaotic (or redneck?). Over the years, true maturity and success for Depp was achieved only after he constructively touched base with his feminine side indicated by Venus and Mercury, Taurus, 10th house. One interesting aspect I noted is Saturn in Aquarius, 7th house square Mercury in Taurus, 10th house. Mercury is in the decanate of Saturn! I can almost hear him tell his accountant, and Disney executes: “I don’t see how this adds up, can you run those numbers again-with all my exceptions and exclusions-please?”

But I think the Arabic Parts in Johnny Depp’s birth chart provide valuable links to his story:

Part of Kings and Sultans is in Sagittarius, 5th house conjunct Vertex and sextile Saturn in Aquarius 7th House. The Vertex brought Depp an event that released the child within. From this point on he was able to maintain audiences with the rich and powerful of the world. Sadly, this notoriety may have restricted meaningful relationships for him early on. In order to overcome the latter, Depp had to go deep and make some hard choices.
Part of Sudden Elevation in Leo, 1st house. This point acts like Jupiter attracting the greater benefit to the personal life. It forms a disassociated conjunction with Depp’s Uranus in Virgo. This occurs when there is a relationship between two planets or points in different signs and/or houses. At 27 degrees Leo, Depp’s Part of Sudden Elevation trines his Vertex in Sagittarius, 5th house. Because the Part of Elevation acts like Jupiter, Depp has a concealed Winner’s Aspect which helps him win most contests he enters.
Part of Feminine Seduction in Scorpio is no surprise conjunct Neptune, 4th house. What is surprising is that this part trines Depp’s Chiron, in the decanate of the Moon, Pisces, 8th house. This is a sign of a very sensitive man who can keep babes swooning (Watch out Tiger!).
Part of Collectors in Leo, decanate of Jupiter, 12th house conjunct Ascendant. Depp has a way of coming across treasure that no one else is really looking for or recognizes as valuable. This maybe why he commands some of the most odd yet creative roles generated by Hollywood to date. Or, on ordinary days, he’s always coming across treasure like lost change, tickets, broken gold momentos, or lost lottery tickets. The next time you misplace a valuable, call Depp. Chances are, he found it!
Part of Large Bodies in Aquarius, 7th House. Yes Ladies! Johnny Depp has to watch his weight especially when he’s slap happy satisfied in a loving caring relationship.

Fate’s Magic Wand

About 2-weeks ago, Actor Johnny Depp sped over from his private island to pick up an award for his life’s work at the Bahama International Film Festival http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/8411633.stm

And, just before the Bi-quintile Transit began waning, the world got a glimpse of the trailer for Alice in Wonderland due in theaters by March 2010. Now can you guess what face showed in nearly every shot. You guessed it – Johnny Depp! The Bi-quintile is noted as the aspect for talent and genius. That’s why for the last 3 or 4 days, the Desire for Reforms Eclipse – with help from the bi-quintile transit – has been bringing this to the fore.


From Matinée Swashbuckler to Classical Movie Superstar.

But most importantly, bi-quintiles don’t inspire creative genius in everyone unless they’ve reached a level of maturity that allows the genius to flow into the life. This is why I believe bi-quintiles are more powerful in transit aspects to an individual then in a birth chart. It’s like the cosmos waiting to determine whether you’re really ready for it! From the looks of things, Johnny Depp is closing a very important chapter in his movie career (swashbuckler, pirate) and opening a new one with unexpected turns, twists, and audiences (Sweeney Todd, Alice in Wonderland). Below is a tri-wheel view depicting Johnny Depp’s birth chart on the inner wheel, the Bi-quintile Transits in the middle wheel and the Desire for Reforms Eclipse on the outer wheel. My first visual observation was that the Desire for Reforms Eclipse Sun-Moon are in Depp’s 12th house of endings and secret enemies. This year Depp has or will find out something important, shut it down and begin anew.  He’ll marshal a great deal of help and support as indicated by the gifts of luck and fortune the Bi-quintile Transit bestowed on his creative genius. I’m sure he’s exhaling: “..it’s about time!”

I’m not done yet! I can’t be until after the quincunx. So, up next is the Transiting Quincunx Sun, and what it brings to the Desire for Reform Eclipse of July 21, 2009 during our days of witness to The Rise of Obama.

Peace,
Nude Provocateuse


About the Series: Since the time of the Pharoahs, eclipses have marked our major historical events especially the rise and fall of empires. The Rise of Obama Series (TRO) by The Nude Provocateuse (aka The_Betty) is based on the premise that the Eclipse of August 1, 2008 was the astronomical event opening the road for Barack Obama’s assent to the presidency, and the Desire for Reforms Eclipse of July 21, 2009 is responsible for influencing his 2009-10 political agenda.  This series is written as News, Political News, News and Commentary, and serves as basic astrological research not for profit or resale in accordance with the Copyright Act of 1976, 17 USC, Section 107. To learn more about this code go to:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fair_use or email me at llazaro633@yahoo.com.

my mouth is on fire.

something must have gone wrong with the tooth my dentist patched up, some months ago. it didn’t hurt nearly as bad when i fell cycling in Japan… so i really have no idea why it is acting up now.

In August. I used to have interesting dental features

panadol isn’t helping much. my head is throbbing, and (most worryingly) i’m in too much pain to really do anything right now–even to think. still, i was meditating on pain and some really bad emo movies i’ve watched recently (Twilight; 2012) and it occurs to me that anyone who thinks that emotional pain is more than anything the real world can throw at you (including a brick-paved sidewalk at 60km/h) obviously hasn’t suffered real physical torment.

Part-4 “The Invisible Hitcher”

“I’m flattered by your fascination with me you son of a bitch but go back where the fuck you came from!” Lenard called out as he cringed in pain and agony, as the beast howled from with in him. He was tied to the basement walls as if he were a slave who ran away and was about to be beaten. His hands and feet were tied with ropes and chains. Lenard himself and built them in the days and weeks leading up. Jillian asked him why, and he said that the knew, somehow, he just knew that he was going to be needing them. He was right. Bound and gagged so as to not bite his own tongue off, his frail body was oozing a stench of death like nothing any of them had experienced. Like the scent of a thousand rotting bodies, and an oil that appeared to the naked eye to be blood, but was not. It was more like he was rusting_ decaying.

Jillian drifted away to the sound of Lenard’s screams to a happier time. She was suddenly in his arms on the dance floor at they’re wedding and feeling the love she had for him then and now as her heart pounded in despair. He was everything she’d ever wanted, they had a fire about them that in their love they knew no time could bend or break. She burned with desire for him, and she admired him all the same. His courage, his honesty, his matter of fact way of doing things. He loved so strongly and yet showed very little on the surface. She could see it in his eyes every time he looked into hers though. He admired her too. He wouldn’t say it but it was in the way he watched her with the baby and even when they were children he would stand for minutes at a time and watch her, thinking she didn’t know he was there, but she knew. And she knew what he was thinking by the way he watched. The longing the wanting, for a family like hers, for the peace, and the love, and serenity of home. Something he never had. His home life was a living hell and nothing changed it until he escaped for good from his old man’s grip.

She could smell his cologne, and could even feel the texture of his black suit. When he kissed her she felt like they were the only two people in the world and that she was safe as long as she stayed within those arms. They danced the floor over, and held one another so close. It was their day, they were finally united, in the eyes of God, they were one and the same now. And they felt it too. Years of longing for completion, and absolution, and it had finally come. They’re lives were about to begin, though they had lived most of their lives together anyway, knowing one another, loving one another, sharing they’re experiences, good and bad. Looking back now she felt she was naive to think it hadn’t begun yet. It was always there. Their time together began the first moment they met, and not on that dance floor after all. Was it all about to be over? Was she about to say goodbye forever? How could she let him go? How could she bid him farewell, her stomach ached in agony. Lenard thrashed around, his wrists bled, and his legs buckled and cracked as if they were breaking at times. He thrashed and thrashed as the church folk spouted words of praise to the Almighty. The pastor demanded the demons go back from whence they came. Lenard no longer sounded nor looked like himself. His hair had grown over 3 inches and his nails had grown out long and curled under, his legs appeared to be broken, his eyes totally black and his flesh seeped the rotting rust colored oils. His voice, now his voice was the worst of it. A deeply evil tone of not one but many, and then it happened.

“You, pastor, you have no power here. Ye sinner, have no power of us.” the demons inside of Lenard’s said forcefully. The pastor continued his work, and spoke the words he read from his bible along with the others. “Stealing money from your parishioners? Fucking the little girls who come out of the overnight functions at your leisure. Be gone you have no power here.” At this the pastor grabbed his heart and fell to his knees. The beasts laughed, and spat at him. He fell over dead, and the other two men trembled where they stood. “You, you come for me do you?” the beasts said to the biggest of the burly men and he looked up from the pastor just once and made eye contact. “You dare to try to defeat me you piss ant, do you? And how will you do it? You who lies to his wife every night about why he cannot fuck her like a man. You who like little boys, do you? Little boys from the bars around the corner, little college boys, bent over and loving it. Tell her that’s why, tell her and shame the devil, ha ha ha!” the beasts laughed again, and a wire from the ceiling came down and wrapped itself around the man’s neck as he dangled there seeking his last breath. The smell in the room grew and Jillian just kept thinking the entire time, be still, and get Lenard out of this somehow. The other burly man and rail of a woman terrified continued their quest for mercy for Lenard’s soul. “Be gone!” the beast said looking at the rail of a woman and she flew back and slammed against the wall as forceful as if she had fallen from a fifty story building. At this Jillian realized that something was going very wrong. Nothing worked, no words, no praise, no prayer. Had none of them been true Christians she thought, were none of them worthy? In moments the other man was dead and Lenard was calling for Jill, but when she went back down there he was passed out and hanging from him his hands like a crucifixion image. She stepped over the bodies for two day before she dragged them off to the other side of the basement. She attempted to clean his wounds but he would just say the most horrible things to her. She gave him water, and kept him alive but for what she did not know. The next day her mother insisted on bringing the baby back and so she did. Jillian scrambled around in the kitchen. She need to make supper.

Jill took the pans out of the oven to prepare dinner.

One dropped from her hand, and slammed to floor_ she began to cry. The baby was hungry, crying from his high chair, and the electric had been cut off due to “non-payment” the notice read. She planned to make soup on the gas burner, just enough for little Lenny and herself. He wouldn’t be needing anything, he who was in the basement.

She fed the baby his soup and a calm came over her. She stared off into space, as the smoke encircled her head. She set the newly lit cigarette down in the ashtray, and walked down into the basement. She grabbed the ax from the floor by the wall as soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She walked over to Lenard and in one fail swoop of the blade she hacked off his head. She closed her eyes, looked away, and walked her blood spattered self back up the stairs in such a matter of fact way as Lenard would have been proud. She sat back down to feeding the baby, the cigarette still only half way gone, she picked it up and took another drag.

The End!

Medium: Free-to-air Television (prime time)
Title: Whacked Out Sports

A cheap laugh TV show much like ‘Funniest Home Videos’ – but a little more down-to-earth and back-to-reality where the subjects of humour are people and animals being hurt and killed.

In a society becoming morbidly obsessed as quicker than you can worry about a diet this show is sure to entertain.

Rating: 0/5 stars

“Completely devoid of love and the sacredness of life.”

Has anyone noticed that whenever the phrase “Have you been…” never starts out as a good thing. Its so accusatory. Today I was laying on my futon, which I’ve been sleeping on because I’ve been feeling like it and one of my roommates was like “Have you been sleeping on your futon?” She didn’t mean it an accusatory way but that’s been echoing through my head all day and I can’t think of a way where those three words strung together in such a way wouldn’t sound accusatory. Even if they added nice words at the end. Maybe its the way people say it in my life that I’ve noticed this. Prove me wrong.

Beyond that, I didn’t have anything else to wonder about so I looked up something to write about in order to fill up this blog. It often happens that I’m in a blogging mood but I don’t have anything interesting to talk about. So I found a list of 73 things to talk about. So I’ll start with number one and make my way through the list.

1: What is your greatest fear?

I’m assuming this doesn’t mean what are you most afraid of, because if that was what this question meant I would answer snakes because snakes scare the living crap out of me. I’m going to assume this means in broader terms…big picture terms. In which case I would have to say my greatest fear is losing my family. We all know how close I am with each of my family members and since my grandma was given less than 6 months there have been times where I’ve wondered what would happen if I were to lose a family member. Is this morbid? A lot of you will say yes out of pure reflex, but you can’t lie and say that it hasn’t crossed your mind. What would I do? I don’t really know. I imagine my reaction being different for each family member, but I guess as a whole I’d be the person who would wait to have a complete break down until after the rest of the family was ok. But I can’t imagine my life without my family. I don’t want to imagine a life without my family. I’d like to think that my world is as good as it is because of my family.

People talk about nature vs. nurture and there are all these studies done that talk about how life as an adult and how you act can be traced back to your childhood. I had a pretty damn good childhood, and without my family I would be a much different person. I got my caring, understanding, “shrink-ness” from my dad and that alone takes shapes a lot of my life. I’m the go-to-person. I give advice when asked, but I’m really good at being there for people. I’m not sure who passed on the ability to write well, or my creative side. Probably my dad again because of all his crazy hobbies. Again, writing is a HUGE part of my life. My mom gave me my organizational skills. She also passed of the love of reading, which is huge. My mom also showed me how to be both logical and emotional when it comes to helping other people. I know when to be completely honest with someone and I know when to be really careful about what I say.

I don’t know what I got from my brothers and sister beyond patience. haha I think Jake really helped me along with supporting someone no matter what other people say and how to help someone who is a little different. Tim probably helped with my strong opinions. They may not be political opinions all the time (though he’d love that) but Tim has always been very strong with his opinions. Megan has taught me that even though there can be fighting, there is still a lot of love. She also inspires me to keep writing when I feel like I’m not creative anymore. One look at my room filled with her drawings and stories fly out of them.

SO yeah. Without my family I would be an empty shell of a person. That is what I fear the most. Losing my family. That’s probably a lot of people’s answer. Lame. Hmm, after that I would have to say the thing I fear the most would be my future, though that is getting a LOT better in recent days. The unknown would be a better answer I guess. Yeah, so losing my family and then the unknown. Alright. Topic one done!

There are some good questions coming up people! I’m excited. I might just blog a lot more in order to answer these questions.

Love Emily

Next question: What sorts of dreams do you usually remember?

Also let me know if you like the new layout. The only problem I have with it is that there is a lot of words in your face. Otherwise I like it.

AND there is an email subscribe button at the bottom of the page so if you want to be notified through email when I put up an email instead of having to watch facebook, sign up! I’d appreciate it.

Constat ca exista un public foarte numeros care se lasa purtat in ghearele morbidului. De ceva vreme, de cind mortii celebri par sa nu-si gaseasca linistea decit in conditiile in care sint filmati si transmisi live (ma scuzati, asa e expresia) la tv. Incerc sa-mi explic invazia serialelor complete de inmormintari in direct si in reluare, fara a arata cu degetul catre principalii “vinovati”, televiziunile. Acolo e doar buba. Originea bubei insa, cred ca ramine fascinatia oamenilor pentru morbid.

A murit cutarica. Vaaai, saracu…unde-i telecomanda? Zappezi si gasesti imediat cel putin o televiziune care-ti povesteste sordid cum s-a chinuit pina sa-si dea duhul, cit de desfigurat este mortul, cit de distrusa e sotia (cu exemplificari si cadre prim plan). Pupilele se dilata, ochii par sa fie suficient umectati astfel ca procesul de clipire devine inutil. Apar primele regrete: de ce sicriul are capacul pus? Cum si-a permis ruda aia a mortului sa nu-si smulga parul din cap in vazul tuturor, cum isi permite sa ne priveze de spectacol? Rabdarea ne e pusa la grea incercare in timpul slujbei, pentru ca ii tot asteptam pe urmasi sa vina sa tipe, sa ceara sa intre in posesia a ceea ce tocmai fusese a mortului, acum fiind a lor de drept… Desigur, dupa bagarea mortului in groapa, ochii nu se dezlipesc de tv. Nivelarea creierului continua: trebuie studiat fenomenul copiilor din flori de mult ofilite…Cum au fost facuti concret, in ce pozitie? Sint chemati sa aduca o pereche de chiloti folosita a tatalui decedat, semnul cel mai concludent ca tatal l-a recunoscut. Si ca sa nu ne plictisim, cu abilitate sintem trecuti de realizatorii emisiunilor si prin registrul duios al grijii paterne: prezentarea ambalajului de la bomboana pe care tatal i-a daruit-o cind era mic. Asa om mai rar! Traiasca mortul!

Si cum nu in fiecare zi moare cite cineva demn de dat la tv, televiziunile ne rasfata si cu alte hidosenii. Vii, de aceasta data! Apreciez nespus faptul ca dragele noastre televiziuni se erijeaza in psihologi si afirma ca ne-au sondat creierele, (desi eu cred ca ne-au facut doar un tuseu rectal) si se bat cu pumnul in piept ca ne dau ce ne dorim: uriti, ciudati, monstri, nebuni, nespalati, retardati, curve, barbatifemei sau femeibarbati. In momentul in care m-am regasit rizind si plingind in acelasi timp auzind-o (sau auzindu-l) pe Naomi apostrofind cu infatuare un spectator din publicul lui Capatos…:”tu nebunule din porumb, care maninci cirpe ude din baie…”, expresie rostita cu o dictie impecabila…atunci m-a lovit! Am avut revelatia. De ce se uita lumea la asa ceva? E simplu, raspunsul e la indemina: fascinatia uritului e mai puternica decit cea a frumosului, atita timp cit mizeria proprie ne copleseste. Cu cit sintem mai jos, cu atit vrem sa vedem specimene mai oribile, pentru ca prin comparatie, noi sa fim mai buni, mai destepti, mai frumosi…

went for a short jog around the reservoir today and it wasn’t very good for my morale *(at some point–i would have to pass my 2.4). being overtaken by 16 year olds, i could (still) tell myself that maybe i was getting old; this excuse becomes a little less tenable when 60 year old joggers overtake me as well. (although, they look like they’ve been regular joggers for half a century now.)

like Senor C in Diary, i used to hope that the Cartesian divide between the mind and the body would save me (if i can think myself out of predicaments–metaphorically speaking–i wouldn’t have to outrun them). but i’m not very good at either. if we still lived in hunter-gatherer societies, i think i’d be–quite screwed. i’d probably invent a vocation, and i’m sure lazy people who think like me have done so for millennia. from shamans to astrologers to poets (and politicians). there’s something to be said for good honest labour and toil, i’m sure, but i’d rather be the poet doing the saying.

(that said, i think the Romantics who valorised manual labour while never ever having had to engage in any themselves were total Dicks).

still. it must get better, if i try everyday. 4km/day will work out to… at least more than 20km a week, if i don’t give up on my scheme. the idea of senescence troubles me enough.

is this what fate has in store for me?

met paula and dawn in town today. haven’t had any reason to go to Orchard in at least six months now, and the place is almost unrecognisable… i came out from an exit that i was sure didn’t exist before, into a new mall (Ion) that lies sprawled on top of the underground station like some kind of glittery giant pider. i felt very disoriented, finding my way around.. somehow, the place loops like a roller coaster. more, all the shops look the same and sell similar items–what is up with that? do people really need so many things? does fulfillment really have a price tag…?

i feel very nostalgic for Toronto, all of a sudden. yes, i did live right next to the city’s biggest megamall (that said–Eaton centre isn’t nearly as big as Suntec City). but a few streets behind it, you find quaint little shophouses selling kitschy things, cafes/ art galleries, or little restaurants and museums. it’s nice and sleepy, like a Katong or Siglap stretch. here, there have been malls going up everywhere in this shopping-centre city… you’d almost think there wasn’t a recession.

there are few things that people attend to as religiously as shopping in singapore (food is a close second–but that is arguably a similar form of consumption as well). especially on saturdays and sundays.. it is little wonder that some churches are now located in malls, so that people can tithe-and-buy. and perhaps, in sufficient quantities, they get free-parking as well. (save your sole?)

i feel very ill at ease (isn’t that a rather paradoxical construction? “ill-at-ease”?) with lots of people around, scurrying down passages and trails like worker ants keeping a colony (i.e. the economy) alive. it feels very lonely, being adrift in a sea of strangers, who (unlike me) have a greater sense of purpose; even if it is only to get to the next bargain sale.

i arrived early today, and i decided to sit in my hermetic bubble with my iphone and a pair of soundproof in-ear earphones. it doesn’t really matter what i’m listening to, so long as it keeps out everyone else around me. in a crowded and impersonal city, it maintains the illusion of a sacrosanct personal boundary, when strangers stand just a little too close.

I saw you go up in flames,
your charred remains are beautiful still.
Of course there are no more iris’,
or blonde hair to twirl around fingertips,
Or noses do sniff snow up into…
but that doesn’t take away your magic.
I see a pile of darkness, and within it is you,
the man I love the most, and the man who loves me the most,
We are forever together and forever as One.
No matter where in existence you are,
I am right beside you.
Now that you’re gone, your last breath painless and short,
my thoughts drift more frequently to your mind,
Or that spirit that gave me so much hope.

All those years ago, I never thought it’d end like this.
I always believed you’d be whispering sweet nothings in my arms,
smiling and joking as you were whisped away by Fate.
Instead you were alone, shrouded by shadows and pills,
I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I can’t watch this;
the mournings of all the good times past.
I’m sorry, but I just can’t because all I can think about
is how sweet your lips tasted on mine, my friend.

We miss you Adam, come home.

One of my absolute favorite things to do on the whole planet is EAT. I am completely obsessed with good food… and if you’re my facebook friend, that’s probably no surprise, since I upload a food picture about every other day. It really helps having friends that are really good at cooking… which we have in Nick. I’ve been editing this series of pictures that just kind of happened the other night when I was cutting pomegranates. Honestly, they can be seen as a bit gruesome, but sometimes I’m just feeling gloomy, and today is one of those days. Maybe it has to do with my lowered amount of blood, since I had to get blood drawn today. On that note, did you know that one of my goals in life, on my “bucket list”, you could say, is to give blood? I’m TERRIFIED of needles, but I’ve always been inspired by the thought that you can save someone’s life… for free! It just kind of seems like a no-brainer. Of course, getting over that fear is not going to be easy, but what’s the point of living if you stop learning, and growing. It’s what we’re called to do.

Wow, I’m pretty ADD tonight. I’ve been praying about the intense mood swings that seem to accompany creativity. Some of the most creative and inspired people the world has seen were highly depressed, or bipolar, and I guess in that, I’m happy to be included in the group. I just wish my knobs weren’t set at either “apathetic” or “creative but moody”. It’s hard on my heart, to constantly be unfeeling or over-feeling, and trust me, if you think I’m some self-assured person that’s got it all together, you’d be wrong. So with all these crazy, miss-matched things in mind, I present to you what I’m calling “Morbid Poms.”

The crazy times inspiration hits.  As a side-note, to any aspiring photographers, the best advice I can give you is just to constantly be taking photos.  If you can’t have your camera, be thinking about how you would use light, how you would compose, what emotion you want to convey…. the most perfect photo is the one that tells a story.  Now,I’m going to go listen to Emo music and try to get out of this funk…

Jill stood up, and put the butt out into the ashtray, then cleared the smoke from her face. She looked towards the stairs to the basement and then walked towards them. Her heart pounded beneath her chest, and a single tear ran down her face. She reached for the cold hard brass knob. As soon as she opened the door the stench of death filled her lungs. She took each step into the unknown, in her mind she was praying for help. In her heart she was dying with him. She reached the bottom of the stars and found Lenard shivering in his chair.

“Come on baby…” she said, and reached out her hand to take his.

“No, I have to stay down here. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“This isn’t hurting me Lenard, it’s killing me. Please, come up to bed with me.” he saw the look in her eyes and could no longer tell her no. He longed for her and felt so very alone, and afraid. He took her hand and the went upstairs to their room, and lied down on the bed. She covered him with the sheet first, then the bedspread, and then dug into the closet for her grandmother’s quilt. She opened it up and placed it only over him, then crawled into the bed and under the covers with him. He was getting much to week to argue and so he let her hold him. He could feel the tears running down his back, but said nothing. She could feel his cold clammy body and could smell death on him, it was like lying in bed with her own dead husband, her best friend, her lover, the father of her child, her everything. (I’ll go to the grave with you my love, she thought.)

Unaware of the hours that passed Jill awoke to the sound of the ringing phone. She opened her eyes, (the pastor), she thought. She slipped out of bed and hustled herself down the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible.

“Hello!”

“Jillian, hey what’s going on? I got you message, it sounded quite urgent. Is everything alright my dear?” She told him of the things that had been going on ever since that fateful day in the hospital. “Remarkable…And you’ve been dealing with this all on your own?”

“Yes, I have.”

“Oh my dear. Listen I’m gonna see what I do, and I’ll be there with reinforcements, okay?”

“Thank you pastor.”

“Hold on Jillian, trust in God..”

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH” Lenard called out from the upstairs.

“Oh no, that’s Lenard!”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” It didn’t take more than an hour and the pastor arrived. Fully reinforced with two other big burly men from the church and one slender, gray haired woman. They came with all they had to ward off the evil. Crosses, blessed water, blessed oils, their very own tattered bibles, and the most important thing of all, they brought God with them. Jill could feel the the presence of the lord as they arrived, a light, an energy unlike any other. Lenard felt it too. They stood in the living room, fixed to floor like statues, that had been purposely placed there in their precise locations. They discussed they’re plan, and they could hear Lenard crying out from the upstairs bedroom. He howled in pain, for they’re very presence was causing an uprising beneath his flesh. He could feel the fingers of one and the elbows of another moving about as if he was intended to give birth to evil any moment. And yet he knew he would surely die before such things would come about. The demons would kill him, they would never be allowed to be released. God had never allowed such things before and Lenard knew he wouldn’t allow it this time either.

He was very afraid. He cried out to the Lord for his mercy, to send back to the depths the thing that came came along for the ride on that fateful day at the hospital. How did it hitch it’s ride, he did not know. How did it get to him where he went. He did not know that either. He felt as though it had to have happened while he was reentering the world, at that very moment when he was merely standing in a doorway and no longer close to the light, neither was he close to the darkness though, still in the the most dangerous alley of the spiritual realm, the one farthest from God, and closest to the world of the living. God is everywhere, Lenard told himself, but in this place, in this dangerous alley way, it was there that it was possible. He agonized over his own thoughts. What would become of his child, of his wife. Without him, how would they be whole, how would they ever be safe. How would they survive. He felt responsible for them, in so many ways, for he had to begin with, but then he brought them back, and for what, to do this to them. He hated himself. He loathed this beast that cowered beneath his flesh. All he had to do was to allow the sadness to take over. To let himself succumb to it’s power, and he would be finished. His blackened eyes teared up, and his ears rang, as they came for him. One by one, each step clapped against the floorboards like the executioner sharpening his ax. He was off to the gallows, to be removed from himself and hopefully would find his way back again just one last time, without the beast. The door flew open and there stood Jillian, the pastor of the church, two large men and a tiny, rail of a woman. They had bibles in their hands, and Lenard knew, the time had come, the rope was lowered, and the only thing he could do now was kiss his wife goodbye, tell her he loved her, and fight like he never had before. For all that was good and right in the world. For his own, for his destiny. It was time to leap.

Here I am finding myself staring blankly at the screen: I don’t have anything to say today.

WHAAAAA? Marguerite? THE Marguerite? Who seems to never shut up and speaks sooooo fast that we only understand her maybe 60% of the time?? Ok, ouch. Maybe I didn’t need to make fun of myself that much, that one kinda stings. Even though I know it’s true

I couldn’t tink of anything worth talking about. Sure, there’s stuff on my mind. But nothing that would be of interest here.

I woke up at 5:55am (EXACTLY) wide awake. I had gone to bed around 1:00am. I began to freak out because I couldn’t remember when my art paper was due. 12 pages. Is it this tuesday?! I still don’t know. But i have a vague memory that my teacher said to leave the paper in his mailbox, which would mean that it must be due after the last class when we don’t see him anymore. I hope i’m right.

I’m also thinking of buying TS2 Apartment Life. Shut up foo’. I don’t care if that sounds dorky. TS2 is helluva lotta fun. Especially after being a veteran of it all (i think my first Sims was from when i was 11???), i know every trick in the game. And i love abusing them. How so? Hacking into the games. Getting my sims to have bizarre lives. Like this one:

I have a grumpy old man named Mr. Friggert Cripplebooty (yes, i excpect much praise for the name i have him hahahaha) who lives in a lighthouse. He is attracted to vampires and he’s having an affair with the maid. This one sim, for some reason I swear to God I did not do, insists on running into his house in the middle of the night to slap him. WTF, right? She does it to a bunch of other sims in my neighborhood too. Not really sure why the game is doing that, its never happened before.

Anyway, Mr. Cripplebooty adopted a stray cat named Sake (like Japanese Sake), and the cat is in show business. That is the only income Mr. Cripplebooty gets. And to make the game more fun, i hack into it and give him all sorts of extra features that you aren’t supposed to have, and to be more morbid than i already am i use a code to get “Rodney’s Death Creator” made by one of the programmers. This spawns a gravestone that if you click on it, you have about 9 choices on how you want the sim you’ve selected to die. Since I hate the sims that the game comes with, i make sure that they “go away”. And Mr. Cripplebooty loves zombies, so he can call back the dead and get the same sim back but they’re now a zombie.

And as if that wasn’t enough, I’ve downloaded thousands (i beieve i’m at 3,149 now?) of custom content to make my houses awesome. Because I’m still deep down an architect (I wanted to be an architect for the longest time) i usually spend more time building amazing houses and buildings than playing with the sim people. I make buildings in the Gothic, Renaissance, Beaux-Arts, Second Empire, Richardsonian, Georgian, Victorian, and crappy-50’s-60’s-architecture style, just because i love building.

I’ve always loved building things. I started off with Duplo’s (remember them?), then Lego’s (WHICH i still love btw…frickin amazing invention!), then i got into computers, so now Sims is where i do all my building. Besides, it saves floor space by using the sims now too

I always loved making little cities, making sure there was all the amentities and such. But then i would never make a story or anything. I hated dolls, i didn’t like playing pretend with them. Until i met my bff (WHOM is still my very bff today! for 13 years and going strong!) and we both began to have fun being morbid and such with Barbie’s and Lego’s, then in computer games, and now when we do films, we generally have some bizarre morbid thing happen too.

(We are hoping to do a spoof of the movie “Bend it Like Beckham”, and towards the end when the main character Jess and her friend Jules are waving goodbye at Heathtrow airport, we both thought it would be great to have Altaïr from Assassin’s Creed come in an assassinate Jules, since we both found her rather annoying…or is it because of Keira Knightley? hmm.)

I’ll be at Heathrow for an hour while going to Paris. Maybe i’ll get to film some of it (though i doubt it because of all these secuerity issues) so our movie will look more believable haha.

Well, that was boring. But it gave me 8min of distraction from my Theatre Paper of Death and such. hehe

i read with dismay the ST’s coverage on the loan shark problem this morning. the title itself is telling: “Gamblers are Easy Prey”. the moral of the story (because ST articles always have a moral) is that because 9/10 debtors are problem gamblers, loan sharks aren’t really a problem if you stay on the right side of the law (and don’t live near people who are targeted by loan sharks).

but why do people gamble? the implication here, in this story (which also draws from counseling services as an appeal to authority) is that some people have chronic gambling problems (again, the generalizing from small sample to general tendency of the local press). at no point was the possibility considered that, perhaps, people were really facing dire situations and retrenchment in the economic downturn (which is over?) and in need of financial support.

the article did provide a list of places where one can legally get loans, but failed to highlight the fact that these services are only extended to people with a monthly income (i.e. who are working “officially”). here’s an example cited in the article:

ezyCash (GE Money)
Requires a minimum monthly income of $1,600.
Those earning between $1,600 and $2,500 qualify for loans up to twice their monthly salaries. Those earning $2,500 and up can borrow up to four times their monthly pay.

if you don’t have a monthly income (you are employed unofficially, perhaps) or you just don’t earn enough (for a sense of scale: $1,600 is 3 times what a cleaner in Singapore earns), you’re pretty much screwed.

the only option then is to go through any means possible… so people fall through the cracks, go to loan sharks, and well… that’s how the cookie crumbles. now why is the paper so big on the morality tale about self-sufficiency? (evidently–the options listed for people needing official loans is targeted at the middle–lower-middle class, not the working class. but that’s another story).

i think (this is a qualified “i think”–interpretations may differ [although i'm sure i'm right]) that this has to do with a controversial law the government is considering that would criminalise people who borrow from loan sharks. if you are being harassed by loan sharks, well, society (if laws reflect society) thinks it’s your fault–and you’re screwed either way, if you go to the authorities or not. there are a few articles in the papers about how borrowers end up being runners for loan sharks, because they can’t pay their debts, but here’s just one last article because i need to underscore my point:

Crackdown on Loan Sharks
“This loan shark problem was raised in Parliament in August, when MPs like Madam Cynthia Phua (Aljunied GRC) noted a rise in their terrorising ways.

Nationally, too, the figures have gone up. In the first half of this year, the number of loan sharking and harassment reports went up to 9,395, from 4,759 in the same period last year.”

… god only knows how many incidences go unreported.

to go back to my original argument (because i do get sidetracked…)–why is the ST so keen to underscore the fact that 9/10 debtors are problem gamblers? here’s what i think:

1) it conveniently elides the fact that more “problem gamblers” surfaced during the economic recession–that people are, possibly, doing really badly (an example: much has been written about the increased number of HDB mortgage defaults). and that gambling might be a corollary to illegal loan shark loans in the first place because they wouldn’t be able to pay back the interest otherwise. i.e.–they’re mistaking cause for effect.

2) a potential problem: if debtors are almost exclusively “problem gamblers” (regardless of why they went into gambling), the second article showing the increased loan shark reports suggests that suddenly there must be more problem gamblers, especially if the figure was always 9/10. is there something to be done?

well–in the meritocratic worldview that our government likes to espouse, people are responsible for their own situations. i.e.–sucks to be them. it gets easier when you can label them as “problem gamblers”; then, one can blame the debtor (hence–the idea of criminalising debtors) rather than to acknowledge problems in society (cue the tired anti-welfare state and anti-minimum wage arguments).

3) the current discourse now is about the fear of problem gamblers getting into the integrated resorts (again, this is another story–but it is fun to see how the pieces fit together). so naturally, they want to foreground the issue of “problem gamblers” (as though it were a pathological trait, and not circumstance-driven). i think this is a sneaky way to go about it; but maybe it is good to raise issues of problem gambling.

however, to do so in such a manner diminishes the real concerns of another significant social issue–loan sharks–which is rather problematic, no?

all the elements are there–the poker chips, the wads of cash. the problem? this is not about illegal money-lending–this is obviously a file picture of a police bust of an illegal gambling operation (note: the faceless shots, the man holding the “account book”…)

one might question whether this is really a problem, using a picture from another issue to characterise the first. well–to suggest that illegal borrowing and gambling are necessarily contiguous issues (which is what the picture-narrative is telling you, in its embedded context in the original article), is already priming the reader for what follows (essentially, the argument that the issues are neither discrete nor dissimilar). it is akin to a well-chosen epigraph. because a picture speaks a thousand words–or so the saying goes.

Another attempt at revolutionizing the fashion industry with larger models had people cheering. I think it’s great that we change the standards to reflect a healthy figure. I wonder however, why we must make the leap from zero to fourteen. 0 – 14. Whatever happened to size 6? Or athletic & toned instead of voluptuous & curvy? Too long a leap, I reckon. Yes it’s mentally healthy to embrace one’s own body image and be accepting of all others, but having a BMI outside of the physiologically ‘healthy range’ is not so great. [NB: while Body Mass Index (BMI) is a flawed concept, in almost all cases where BMI is greater than 30, it represents an unhealthy habitus].

I’m not saying that individuals of size 14 aren’t beautiful. I’m speaking strictly of statistically healthy body dimensions and composition. Pure numbers for medicine. Not aesthetics. Because if the argument is “it’s good to see HEALTHY-sized models finally,” (as per the comments on that story) then I think the subjects in questions should be truly a healthy size. I’m also not saying it’s easy, just that it’s important!

I have seen some incredibly fat people. 650 pounds. 450 pounds. There’s no sidestepping or pussy footing here; my “P.C.” language is out the window, because it’s too serious not to be open and honest about.

Obesity is easily detectable; it’s not so easily treated. One day, I looked around the ICU. Eight out of our nine patients that day were obese, two were morbidly so. Coincidence? Not really. Obese people have a greater risk of many negative medical outcomes. So do malnourished people – though they are different problems and fortunately anorexia and malnutrition are not epidemic in North America.

Listing things doesn’t change anything. People know that being fat isn’t healthy; but it’s academically interesting to know why, and there may be some surprises. I’ll write about making changes another time. So, here goes – and FYI this is not a complete list.

Systems-based consequences of obesity:

Neuro/psych (brain): low self esteem is a fairly common and unfortunate state in those with BMIs over 30, but so too are depression, anxiety, and fibromyalgia/chronic fatigue syndrome; diminished mental capacity is also a problem, oddly enough

Occular (eyes): via high blood pressure or diabetes, decreased visual acuity and blindness can ensue; even without concomitant disorders, obese people are at greater risk of developing eye disease, like glaucoma and cataracts

Cardiovascular (heart and blood vessels): high blood pressure, heart attack, stroke, blood clots in the legs (DVTs) that can move to the lungs (pulmonary emboli), and congestive heart failure all occur more frequently

Respiratory (lungs and airway): problems here are variable; restrictive lung disease and obstructive sleep apnea are pretty common; undergoing anaesthesia is also more dangerous

Gastrointestinal (Esophagus, Stomach, Bowels, Liver, Gallbladder): gastroesophageal reflux, stomach ulcers, fatty liver, gall stones, and bowel cancer; some studies suggest an increased prevelence of pancreatic or gallbladder cancer as well

Genitourinary (Reproductive, Kidney, Bladder): Obstetric Complications are manifold: these include gestational hypertension and diabetes, and delivery complications such as higher rates of caesarean sections and prolonged time of delivery (Obesity Review). Fertility is also an issue with higher rates of amenorrhea and infertility, not to mention the fact that susceptibility to endometrial, ovarian, and (postmenopausal) breast cancer is elevated. Oh, and more kidney cancer too. Cancer! Cancer! Cancer!

Dermatological (skin): Dermatological complications are also common; I often see skin folds infected with Candida (yeast), and unpleasantly for all, it’s hard for very large people to wash, so body odor can be a problem

Musculoskeletal (muscles and bones): Generally, with exceptions, obese people are less capable of physical activity; their weight also predisposes them to gouty and osteo arthritis; if sedentary, muscle contractures can arise

Endocrine (hormones): Everyone and their dog knows that there is a link between excess fat and Insulin Resistance/Diabetes Mellitus, but Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) and even thyroid conditions are other hormonal derangements that occur

** As a patient, you would be difficult to examine (I can’t feel the organs in your belly or hear your heart with my stethoscope), difficult to intubate (the weight of your chest compresses neck tissue), and difficult to test (your veins are lost under the adipose tissue, you might not fit in the CT scanner or MRI tube).**

As a doctor, it is a MAJOR struggle to help patients manage a diet, exercise schedule, and (in some cases) food addiction. Most people are pre-contemplative. They know that being obese might have some effects on health, but they don’t think anything bad will happen to them, or they wish to continue as they are, despite negative consequences. More often, people know they should change but don’t believe that they can. Sometimes it takes something as serious as a heart attack to jar someone into action.

Everyone copes differently. Self-control is a factor; this awesome New Yorker article explores Walter Mischel’s marshmallow experiment and the secret of self-control. Diets, portion control, substitutions, exercise, psychotherapy, support groups, and pills or gastric bypass are things people try. Everyone is different. Even if you have a “junk food gene” you can trump it. Like I mentioned above, I’ll write about that another time. Right now, this post itself is tipping the scales, so it’s time to stop!

And in recognition of just how difficult it is…

“Lenard!” Jill called down to the basement one night. “Lenard! Are you down here?”

“Yeah, I’m over here.”

“What are you doing sitting in the dark? What’s going on Lenard? How are we suppose to pay anything now. I’m not getting enough hours to keep us afloat. Babe you gotta get to the doctor. Something is wrong Lenard.”

“I know…I can feel it crawling around inside me.” Jill began to cry.

“What?”

“And I have scratches all over my body, like this.” He pulled up his t-shirt and showed her his stomach, and chest. They’d not made love in weeks, and he wouldn’t let her near the bathroom when he showered, so she hadn’t seen his bare flesh, and had no idea what was really going on with him. She closed her eyes, afraid of what she would see. As she slowly opened them she witnessed scratches that looked like they were coming from the inside out.

“Oh Jesus fucking Christ Lenard!” she cried out. “What is it?”

“I don’t know…” Lenard began to cry himself as he saw her reaction, and it confirmed his own fear.

“That’s it, I’m taking little Lenny to Ma, and I’ll be back for you. We’re going back to the hospital, and we’re not leaving without answers. And so they did.

The doctors, and nurses seemed as puzzled and appalled as Lenard and Jill was, after their examinations were complete. They put him through a battery of tests and came up with nothing. The doctor told Lenard he was sorry once more and that he would have to go and see a specialist.. Lenard grabbed the front of the doctors scrubs, and pulled him close to him.

“Now you listen to me, I don’t wanna hear sorry from you ever again. You tell me what the fuck is wrong with me and you tell me now, or I’m gonna rip off your God Damned head and shit down your throat, you useless piece of shit.”

“Lenard!” Jillian cried out as she pulled him back. “Let go Lenard…Let go!” he did as she requested realizing it was her who was doing the asking. “I’m so sorry, he’s not usually like this. It’s this illness.

“I’m not angry Jillian, I know it is. I want to help you Lenard…”

“But you’ve done all you can right.” he said in disgust, recalling the doctors previous words the night his son was born. The doctor blinked his eyes as if he could weep, himself, but his professionalism was surely getting in the way. He looked down.

“We’re just so glad your all okay, we’ll help you in any way we can to find your answers. That’s why I’m sending you to this specialist, maybe he’ll find something we could not.” He reached out to hand Lenard the piece of paper that he usually wrote out prescriptions on, instead he had written the name and number of the physician he was referring Lenard to.

“I don’t want your God damn doctors!” Lenard smacked his hand away. Jillian took the paper with a kind smile and a look in her eyes that said I’m so sorry.

“Baby please…” Jillian wept, and begged Lenard to to try harder as the doctor walked away.

“I’m not sick Jill, I’m possessed.” he told her. She scrunched her brow, and quickly looked left and right trying to make sense of his words. She’s remembered hearing such things growing up and the church even had one boy years ago who was said to have been possessed. Maybe they should go to the pastor, she thought.

“Okay, baby lets go.” she told him. She put him in the car and drove to the church. As they rounded the corner block of the church Lenard began to scream and cry out in horrible pain. He twitched and shook profusely.

“Aaahhhh! No!….. No!…..Just go Jillian…..I can’t be here!”

“But we have to, Lenard please!” He looked up at her and his blue eyes became filled with swirls of blackness, including the parts that were normally white.

“Get me out of here!” he growled. The look on her face was one of horror and she began to cry as she frantically tried to start the car.

“Oh God help us!” she pleaded. Lenard growled more as she spoke these words. Finally the car turned over and they were off. As soon as they were a few blocks away Lenard seemed to pass out from exhaustion. She drove him home and helped him inside. He was quite week and the smell coming from him was terrible to bare. She nearly threw up twice on the way in. Lenard stumbled down the stairs, and into the basement he went. Back into the darkness, back into the world from which she could not reach him. She sat down at the little round table in the kitchen and smoked cigarette after cigarette. She called her mother and told her that the doctors weren’t sure what Lenard had, and she wanted to know if she could keep the baby for a few days until she knew it was safe. She agreed that she would and Jillian went back to smoking, and thinking. How would she help him? She did not know. Her heart ached for him, she loved him so much and could not imagine her life without him. She had to think of some thing. And then it dawned on her, if she couldn’t take Lenard to the church, she would have to have the Pastor come to them, to their home. She picked up the phone and dialed the number.

“Pastor Finney, it’s Jillian Blake. I need your help…”

To Be Continued….

He didn’t notice anything was wrong, until it was. Icarus, newly home from the Great War, waited outside the school for Yume, as they had promised to walk home together and stop by the ramen shop, but she was nowhere to be found. He frowned, and waited a bit longer, and he was soon rewarded, as Yume, looking a bit pale and a bit winded, slowly came up to him, smiling, but with none of her usual enthusiasm.

“You’re late,” Icarus teased. Yume smiled, weakly.

“I know,” she said, and her voice almost became a whisper. Yume closed her eyes, and Icarus frowned. Her eyelids seemed somehow almost transparent, they were so pale. And then she buckled, and he, startled, only barely caught her.

“Yume?” Icarus asked, fear in his voice. But she did not answer him, and, as he tried to wake her, he realized that she was as hot as a bundle of coals.

–

The house was surprisingly quiet, but then again, it was never quiet. Something felt wrong, though, Gumi thought to herself, and she decided to go and find Hito. She scoured the house, but Hito was nowhere to be found, not even near the koi pond they had built especially for him. So she frowned, and went upstairs, and opend the door to Hito’s bedroom, which was darker then usual, and Hito himself was huddled under the covers.

“Hito?” Gumi asked, a little scared. There was no reply, so she cracked the door open a little wider.

“Hito?” she asked again, louder. This time, the covers moved, revealing red eyes.

“Get out,” Hito growled in a raspy voice. Gumi took a step back.

“Hito, what’s wrong?” Gumi asked.

“Get out,” Hito repeated, and slid under the covers, letting out a noise between a shiver and a sob.

“Hito, are you alright?” Gumi pressed one final time, as the door downstairs banged open, and Icarus’s voice rang out.

“Hito! Gumi!” he cried, frantic. Gumi turned, once more to Hito.

“The flu,” Hito said cryptically, “is very strong this year.” And then, he made the noise again, between a shiver and a sob, and clamped his mouth shut and refused to say anymore until Gumi tore herself away, to where Icarus was holding a limp Yume in his arms and looking a little lost.

“Upstairs,” Gumi said with a calmness she did not feel, “I think Hito’s got it too.”

–

In the year 1918, what was termed the ‘Spanish Flu’ reached not only America and Europe, but the furtherest corners of Japan, too. It affected everybody, and no one was safe–not even two people who were not supposed to be human.

“Don’t come in!” Gumi screamed out a window, at Shin and Shuichi, who were just returning from whatever they had been doing. Shin tilted his head up, squinting at Gumi, who was standing at a second-story window.

“Whyever not?” he asked sweetly. Gumi frowned at his tone.

“Yume and Hito are sick. We’re quarantining ourselves,” she said. Shin frowned too, then.

“How do you feel, Gumi? ” Shin asked then, all seriousness. Gumi shook her head.

“Icarus and I are alright,” she said then, “we’ll take care of Yume and Hito until they get better. Go stay in town. We’ll telephone.” Shin frowned, deeper, reluctant to leave her alone. He turned, to leave, but as Gumi called out his name again, he turned around as readily.

“Can…can you bring supplies? We’re running low anyways,” Gumi said. It was Shuichi who nodded, this time.

“Yes,” he said, “we’ll be back.”

–

She wouldn’t stop shivering. No matter what Icarus did, no matter how many blankets he piled on, no matter how close he held her, she would not stop shivering. He hated, hated, being so helpless.

“Yume,” Icarus whispered, “Yume. Come back to me, please. We haven’t had any time together at all.” She didn’t reply. Of course she wouldn’t. So Icarus buried his face into her too-hot neck, and continued to try to will her better. He heard the stairs creak, and then there was Gumi, frowning.

“You should take her upstairs,” Gumi said then, “where she can sleep on a bed.” Icarus looked a little like a child, she realized.

“She’s still shivering,” Icarus muttered back in reply. Gumi came over, and felt Yume’s cheeks, and smoothed back her hair.

“She’s burning up,” Gumi said, “put her to bed.” Icarus looked like he wanted to protest, but Gumi glared, and he glared back, until, reluctantly, he picked her up again, and started up the stairs. Then, Gumi went to survey what they actually had in the house.

When she finally did inventory everything, it wasn’t pretty. About a sack and a half left of rice, a few old vegetables, some flour, but not much more. Gumi pursed her lips, and dearly hoped that Shin and Shu would come back with supplies. She and Icarus could survive for a while without food, but fighting, healing bodies such as Yume’s and Hito’s, could not, even if they could not die.

Triple Seven Special Promo

In celebration of the first Boeing 777ER delivery, Philippine Airlines brings you the lucky sevens! Enjoy the PHP777 and PHP1777 special domestic fares. Traveling period is from December 1 to 25, 2009 and February 1 to March 15, 2010. Selling and ticketing period is only from Novemberj 19-25, 2009.

Please refer to table below for the ALL-IN fares INCLUSIVE of V.A.T. but Exclusive of Aviation Security Fee (ASF):

*For as low as PHP 777

Between MANILA and BACOLOD, CEBU, DUMAGUETE, ILOILO, KALIBO, LAOAG, LEGASPI, PUERTO PRINCESA, TACLOBAN, TAGBILARAN and ROXAS

*For as low as PHP 777

Between CEBU and DAVAO

*For as low as PHP 1,777

Between MANILA and BUTUAN, CAGAYAN DE ORO, COTABATO, DAVAO, DIPOLOG, GENERAL SANTOS, OZAMIZ and ZAMBOANGA

Hurry Book now! Limited seats only! You may also call PAL Reservations at (02) 855-8888, Cebu: (032) 340-0191 or your travel agent.

Conditions of Travel:

Application

* Valid for one way and combinable for roundtrip travel on economy class

* Restricted for sale/ticketing in the Philippines

* Tickets must be issued within 24 hours after booking. Last day of ticket issuance is on 25 November 2009

Reservation/Payment/Ticketing

* Open-dated and Go Show not allowed

* Tickets are non-refundable. Upgrading to higher fare is permitted; however, the original fare paid remains non-refundable

* Re-issuance is allowed at PHP 600 per ticket

* No Show Surcharge is PHP 600 per sector

* Rebooking penalty is PHP 600 per sector

Other Discounts

* No other discounts apply except for Senior Citizen and Infant w/o seat

Note: Senior Citizen discounts are not available through our online booking facility. Only purchases made at the Philippine-based ticket offices may avail of the discount.

Miscellaneous Provisions

* Not eligible to earn Miles with PAL Mabuhay Miles

* 15 kilos baggage allowance