The Taunting - Cheapass Edition - Dramatic Recreation

OK, I may be spectacularly late in posting the summary of the Taunting but my Terrible Tardiness is matched only by my Magnificent Single Mindedness - I just kept feeling like I couldn't move forward with anything else unless I could manage to finish this. It would be like admitting defeat in the face of things that kept happening in December. And then January. Things were beginning to threaten February too but I'm gonna show those pesky Things what's what.

Also, I realized that the holidays started for me in September and kept coming every single weekend until the first week of January. It was like an avalanche of Holidays. And when I got to the bottom of them I collapsed.

Whew. And now NEW holidays are happening - because time keeps moving forward. Which is, frankly, a little annoying. Things are happening for the big Hallmark Holiday coming up and it's not right to write about them without giving the last major holiday it's due.

So we left off (or more accurately I left you off) here.

Where I mentioned that since the Taunting had snuck up on me I didn't handle the display the way I usually did - so I did something else. Even more Tauntingly. It ended up that the makeshift wrapping system fit absolutely every present for every night. So I put all of the presents in two suitcases and every night before the candle lighting went upstairs wrapped the evenings clues . . .I mean presents into the scarves with the really cool paper that Uncommon Goods used instead of styrofoam and handed the tied scarves to the Children.

So every night sort of looked like some variation of this:

As you can see, the Poppets from Taunting 2008 were helping to supervise, and they were curious as to how a non-Poppet based taunting works.

So the First Candle had given the Girl recycled kimonos that held things together and the Boy got a timepiece that looked a bit like a spaceship had landed on his arm. It's in the link I put up above.

The Second Candle the Children both got bento boxes:

Bento boxes are magic, that's why the Tiny Wizard wanted to show them to you. The Ronin Panda is for the Girl and the "Lunch System Black Box" is for the Boy. The paper that is surrounding them is the wonderful un-styrofoam packing paper. Bentos end up being a really good way to keep your sandwiches from getting squished in your backpack. And you can pack salted cashews without having to use a lot of little ziplock baggies.

Using bento is green too.

Now there were two nights - the Children were not yet willing to hazard guesses.

You remember that there is always a theme right?

Third Candle came.

We lit the candles, sang the songs, and the Children opened their cheapass - I mean "green" wrapping on their gifts.

The Ninja is by the Nom Nom Nom insulated lunch bag, and Choco Poppet is by the Happy Bees lunch bag making sure that they each go to the right Child.

The Children were willing to hazard a guess that the themes had to do with food, but were slightly confused about how kimono based shoelaces fit in with that.

Fourth Candle came and then things changed up a bit - The Girl got a bag of Zen and the Boy got a Sonic Screwdriver and this really cool Tardis T-shirt.

Well neither of those things had anything to do with food. Now they were confused.

I should take this time to point out that one of the advantages Hanukah not having a Hanukah Fairy or anything similar means that when your Children are not quite childish anymore there is some room to maneuver. The Girl had wanted something that was artisan made and quite expensive and basically the equivalent of her entire Hanukah budget. So we obtained the artisan made thing for her with the understanding that it basically was her Hanukkah present - but you cannot stop the Taunting!

So she was Taunted regardless . . . which means she knew the gifts all led to something specific. And she started throwing out some ideas for the Boy's Theme, but wasn't willing to guess at hers. But gentle readers, you may start noticing a bit of a disparity in the gifts moving forward and I didn't want you to assume favoritism.

Fifth Candle - the Boy's gift is being shown by the Skeleton Who Wants to Run a Flower shop doing his impression of James Cameron.

It's a globe that floats - he's wanted a globe for some time.

The Girl got a handmade Peace bracelet made by Pammy J. So as you can see there are also nightly themes where their presents relate to each other and back to the bigger themes for each of them. So Fifth Candle was a gimme - It was World and Peace. Although the Poppets did point out that the Children hardly ever disagree with each other, but they didn't really seem like they could spread World Peace around.

I told the Poppets it was OK as long as they tried. And they managed to try it without using nuclear technology.

The Sixth Candle brought the Boy a Donegal Tweed hat with an Asian Dragon and the Girl got a Lucky Cat coin purse from Japan. Orange and Violet approved. They both figured that they weren't going to get it until Eight Candle at this point.

And on the Seventh Candle The Girl got a Djinn, trapped in a sweatshirt and the Boy got Time trapped in gears under glass. "But wait" you say. "Didn't he get a watch at the beginning of the Taunting". Why yes, yes he did. You see, we have all sorts of important milestones in out family for girls marked with a piece of real jewelry that can be kept or handed down to future generations. But there have been nothing BUT girls born into our family for four generations until the Boy. The jewelry given to the girls is to learn things about trust from your elders, taking care of things, learning the differences in material value and craftsmanship and maturity. We have markers for the first real ring, (usually engraved with an initial, that the child picks themselves at a real jewelry shop) when you can pierce your ears. (6th grade for me and the Girl - younger for my sister and my niece).

When the Girl turned 16 I gave her the gold necklace that my parents had given me on my 16th birthday. And when looking for the first sports watch I realized that there was no equivalent tradition or items for the Boy. Who was going to need a dress watch. So the First Candle was a sports Chronometer, but the Seventh Candle was a Sturhling Winchester Skeleton watch in Rose Gold. Because the Boy has excellent taste in Jewelry for others and he like to make things work.

It's a really cool watch.

And he also got a copy of Electronic Gadgets for the Evil Genius - 28 projects to build for yourself.

It's a great book, but some of the projects are actually illegal in some states, so build with caution.

And then finally it was The Eighth Candle - this is when the Big Presents are given.

The Girl's Eighth Candle was actually acquired in the summer, long before the negotiations over very expensive artisan made things. So all of the things she had received were actually the lead up to her receiving a Zen Poppet.

There are only 5.

I have one too, so we own 2/5 of all the Zen Poppets in the world. Someday I shall take a picture of them having tea together.

The Girl really needs some Zen, and Poppety Zen is the best kind of Zen.

The Boy has now reached the same height as me. I am not exactly short. And he has wanted a leather duster for a long time. I happen to have a leather duster. It hits us mid calf.

The thing the Children love about my duster is that it doesn't look fashionable, although it can be. It just looks like it's Mine. I've worn it to the desert, to the symphony, thrown it on the floor in open space rehearsals, worn it to Europe slept on it in tents in the rain. It's weathered. It's mine like the pointy hat is Elphaba's. It doesn't matter that they weren't originally made for us, once they were Ours there were no other defining characteristics. Oh that's the Witch's Hat. Oh that's Drinne's Leather Coat.

And ultimately, that's really what the Boy wanted for himself.

But my duster is black, and the Boy is not dark, and he is young. There are people who signify THINGS when they see young men in black leather dusters. And those are none of the THINGS that belong to the Boy. He is not interested in playing with other people's symbols.

So I found a vintage full length Dark Brown leather trenchcoat from London. Because it matters that it was long, not that it was black. and it looks smashing with the Donegal hat with the Asian Dragon and it has an inside chest pocket that is perfect for holding the Sonic Screwdriver. It's like it was meant to be. And now the Boy has exactly what he wants and doesn't look like anyone else.

I'm sure you've guessed the themes by now.

It only took about an hour for it to be His.

Which is the way it should be.

And that, finally, is the tale of the Taunting of 2009.

Better late than never.

If we could have your attention please.

Something's Happening Here

http://www.spreadpersepolis.com

What it is, ain't exactly clear.

There's a man with a gun over there 
Telling them they've got to beware 

I think it's time we stop.

Children, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going down

We may not understand and we shouldn't interfere as a nation. But you shouldn't turn away.

Please remember all they really want is their own government to hear them, which doesn't mean they want what we think they want. That said, I think we should hear them too. And defend their capability to be heard.

If you're inclined to help them be heard, pay special attention to this.

_

Thank you.

Important but Quite out of Character

Warning - this is something I do not normally do on this blog but it's important. Possibly for me it's the most important thing on the Internet. 

I am going to write about someone else's blogpost instead of fiction or theory or hidden reality. 

This is a public service message to those who mistake the Dreamtime for the Meatworld.

Ready. OK. 

George RR Martin is NOT your Bitch. 

Neil Gaiman said so, and in saying so highlighted the interchange that has bothered me so very much on every internet comments board I have ever read. 

Please note that I didn't do the "Highlight link" common to blogs on either the quote or Mr. Gaiman's name. I will give you the link but I'd like to make my comment linearly first, and then we can get all non-linear afterwards.

The Summary

Some poor gentleman by the screen name of Gareth asked Mr. Gaiman his opinion of a circumstance where Mr. Martin blogs about his work but won't cough up a release date to his readers for his next book. Gareth is in reality both polite and introspective about it, but he is frustrated. He was looking for a reality check to his frustration. 

Rather than reinforce his discomfort in the echo chamber of Mr Martin's comments section, he reached out to what he thought of as an accessible and open peer of Mr. Martin's for his opinion of whether or not his own frustration was reasonable. While it set him up to really be ripped a new one by the ravening hordes of the internet and indeed illustrates the ease of access we have to creators in the incredibly democratized internet world, it does in fact, show that he realizes his needs might not be the only needs involved. I know you're itching to see what he wrote. I'll link to it. I promise.

He asked Mr. Gaiman if the audience actually has too much input into an author's actions because of all the blogging and tweets. And if Mr. Gaiman's readers would think he was "slack" if he announced a book and didn't say anything about it for two years.

However he also asked quite reasonably but still, with a sense of entitlement, if all the blogging and the exposure to his fans meant that Mr. Martin had more of a responsibility to finish the story than someone who didn't engage the public.

Neil Gaiman responded quite accurately - No. George RR Martin is not your bitch.

Ok - that was important to me because I wanted to make sure that Gareth's very real attempt to get a reality check on his sense of entitlement was not dissed out of hand, because it's important ( although weird that he had open access to another famous writer to do it).

Because if you like Mr. Gaiman then you will be all in Gareth's face, and if you think artists are automatons you will be all in Mr. Gaiman's. And honestly, they both deserve more thought than that.

Now I'll post the link

http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2009/05/entitlement-issues.html

My Personal Bit

Here in the House, the residents know that I have been waiting to send an e-mail to Mr Gaiman to ask his permission to use something of his in the Poppetropolis Project. They also know I feel odd about it, because I am intensely aware of the fact that I do not know Mr. Gaiman personally and that I have been more exposed to his work because of Lisa's than the other way around. I have not sent the email yet, at least partially because I know that he is swamped due to his blog and I have no wish to add to it. I will eventually, because I really wish to use that thing and since the internet is open and the Poppoetropolis Project will be there I would like clear permission to use it. But it almost feels like an invasion of Mr. Gaiman's space. I also have to send a similar e-mail to Cat Mihos, who I do know, but it's an odd request and it feels a bit "look at me" and I'm not comfortable with it, although probably in the end not only will both parties not mind, they will most likely forget it within 2 minutes of seeing and/or answering it. 

So it boggles me that everyone is so absolutely sure that the author or artist SHOULD do what they want or listen to them or work on their schedule. Things go the way they go. Gone With The Wind took 10 years to write and has a devoted following and fan fic. JK Rowling's whole life morphed in the decade that she started writing Harry Potter to the end when it was done. Things change in a decade. Susan Boyle started getting flak for dying her hair when she saw herself on TV and realized she looked old. 

Why do people think they own you because they see your image and care? Obama's donors who donate 10$ think they have the right to demand fealty to their ideas because their 10$ got him there. In some sense they are right, every 10$ counts but he needs to listen to the other guy who gave him 10$ that doesn't agree with you and the guy who gave McCain 10$ because that guy is still a citizen. There is a difference between "support" and "ownership".

There is a difference between "I love your work" and "Here we are now - Entertain Us"

And there is a difference between "You entertain me." and "Because you entertain me I can judge you, because you entertain others I hate you"

And of course there is the eternal problem of "He/She/It's a public figure so they asked for it." 

No. They didn't. 

Because IT changed and They are all swimming in the current of that change trying to navigate IT and still do what they are driven to do. 

They are still human and private. Their public lives were never meant to crawl inside their windows and strangle their private lives in the cradle so that their personal ups and downs could be judged by people who want more than what they already offer. 

Politicians should be judged on voting records, artists on art, your lover on fidelity, you favorite actor not so much. 

Artists don't exist to comfort, they confront. Someday Poppets may not speak the language Lisa does anymore, that will mean that she should make something else. I do not need Lisa to make Poppets just because they speak to me. I will wonder and wait for what she makes next. 

The exchange of cash only rents a prostitute for so many hours. Then that prostitute does whatever she/he/it will do without you. The book in your hand is a whore. If you demand that your artist do what you want, you are not a fan, you are a wannabe pimp, attempting to force the artist behave the same way as the whore in your hand simply because that whore pleased you for a few hours. 

I miss some of the sense of being humbled by people who work hard and have talent. I've met some very famous writers and am lucky that I can separate the work from the artist. But the internet causes such a sense of intimacy without knowledge of other people's craft, that it blurs things a bit and people might feel like they know. 

It's a short step from there to having them feel like they know enough to make judgments. I understand. I disapprove. 

I remember when artists were allowed to stumble and fail. It was how they grew.

You do not own the one you like, it is not your duty to destroy the ones you don't. 

Really.

Tales of the Tiny Alien Episode 6 - Follow that Pirate!

Thank Goodness, things are back to properly abnormal.* When we last left our Tiny Alien the forces of the Universe and the various Powers-That-Be, had turned everything topsy turvy with colors and fire and prophesying.  The Oracle had burst into song and the Tiny Alien suddenly knew what he had to do but he had no idea how . . . . our story continues. . . . .

The Oracle was busy glaring at her brother whom the Jacko's had called "The Alex". In his hand he held a gold wrapped Treat of the chocolate variety. The world had seemed somehow slippery and much brighter, the strange song the Oracle had sung hovered in the air . . .  one line echoing over and over " For the pirates keep on rowing" . 

He had seen space pirates, they didn't row at all but they had ray cannons and you really tried very hard to avoid them. But a vision swam in front of his eyes, and he saw a tiny basket on top a of long pole with a gathered curtain and a one-eyed entity in front of a large wheel. The entity was wearing odd clothing: an eyepatch and a hood, a cambric shirt, pants that really weren't, and shoes that covered no feet.  In the vision, the Tiny Alien was inside the tiny basket looking out and forward surrounded by water and stars and he knew, knew he must find his way into that basket . . . . . 

The vision receded. He was once again in the neighborhood. The Alex was next to him with a tray of chocolate covered apples on sticks drizzled with caramel and coconuts. 

The Oracle was behind the window mixing things with the strange tubes and nozzles and grinders that created brightly colored drinks. The only music was coming from the radio waves emanating from behind a tiny door that that Tiny Alien had not yet knocked on and it sounded nothing like the song that he had heard so clearly a minute ago. There was no sign of the Jackos or the neighbors that had joined them. A light snow was threatening to fall. the lighting and colors had all returned to the proper ambiance for a planet at this cycle of rotation around it's single sun. Everything seemed perfectly normalish except for the energy readings on the Tiny Alien's ray gun that indicated that the Alex was expending an awful lot of some kind of energy pretending to be mostly there. Then the energy reading gave up, and started flashing "Would you like some chocolate, instead?" in Intergalactic Esperanto. 

Reoriented, the Tiny Alien quickly checked his bag, and the rest of the settings on his ray gun. He took a sip of the egg cream the Indie Oracle had made for him. It was delicious and bubbly and milky and chocolaty. There were no eggs.  Thus refreshed he asked. "Where did everybody go?"

The Oracle looked up from the electric blue drink she was mixing. "Oh that was just their spirit forms, except for Alex, but including me. They mostly went back to their bodies. It seems like you are officially on a Vision Quest. Did you have any extra visions?"

"Yes, yes I did!" and the Tiny Alien excitedly told her all about the tiny basket and the odd entity and the line from her song . He was quite pleased that he seemed to be ahead of things for a change. "I must get to look from that basket. I know it. The rowing pirates will be able to take me where I need to go." And with great clarity he realized something and then found himself saying it aloud. "I am going to follow this quest and it will take me to the Ultimate Treat, and when I have this treat I will be completely happy to wait until the Time of Trick or Treating." His heart swelled and he began to realize what the Green Gentleman must have felt like when his heart grew three sizes. There was hope and adventure ahead! He knew it right down to the alien equivalent of the mitochondria of his cell-like structures. How wonderful it was to Know Things! How exhilarating it was to Have A Plan!

He turned to the Alex, who was expending a little less energy on Being There. "I think I need to find pirates, how should I do that?"

The Alex shrugged and offered him an apple with chocolate and carmel and pecans. Without saying a word, he stepped off the curb and into the street. He stuck two fingers in his mouth and a piercing noise cut through the hub-bub of the city lunch crowd. From around the corner, a yellow vehicle with black markings and the word "Taxi" pulled up in front of them as the Alex made a flagging symbol with his hand. The driver was a yellow being with black lettering on his gray clothing.

"Where to!" asked the being. 

"It's for my friend," said the Alex.  

The being looked at the Tiny Alien and what he was carrying. "Oh dear, well let me take the top down if he's going to carry that thing. Better safe than sorry, and I don't want him shooting any holes in the roof!" He got out of the vehicle and started breaking down the top covering and folded it up inside a compartment to the rear. He was whistling softly to himself. It was a tune the Tiny Alien had learned from the Green Amphibian called All Kinds of People In The Neighborhood. The whistling was very pleasant and when he was done he opened the back door for the Tiny Alien. "OK, sir, please remember ray gun or no ray gun, you still have to wear the seat belt, it's the law you know. Now, where to!"

The Tiny Alien arranged himself into the seat in the back and carefully placed his bag next to him, fastened himself into the safety harness, positioned himself for maximum ray gun coverage in case of attack, and declared "Take Me To Your Pirates!"

The Oracle called out from her window, "It's OK , Crash.  Alex got him started on a Vision Quest."

The driver sighed, " I suppose it's better than the last time, when he said "Infinity and Beyond"

Alex finally piped up. "It's classic quote you know." 

Crash looked Alex straight in the eye. "Yeah, but you meant it."

 "I did pay the fare." Alex smiled back. "Do you want some chocolate"

The driver passed, but asked to have some saved for when he got back.He let the Tiny Alien, know that he was starting the meter and that he could relax, because there shouldn't be any Trouble getting to the Pirates, all of the trouble should happen after they got there.

The Tiny Alien took this under advisement, and relaxed a tiny bit until he started thinking about the implications of traveling with a driver apparently named Crash.

Will they reach the Pirates safely? Will the Tiny Alien's Vision Quest lead to the Domination of Trick or Treating? What will happen next and what IS the fare for Infinity and Beyond anyway ? Join us next time for the answer to some, but not all of these questions in the next Episode of Tales of the Tiny Alien.

*The management would politely like to remind The Powers-That-Be that there are rules, and the rules are that you shouldn't go messing around with time and space and color photographs and pretty lighting just to show how all powerful and other worldly you are. Since you are the Powers-That-Be, one would think that it would be far classier to find some way to show such powerfulness by doing something respecting the carefully planned out homage to golden age pulp fiction and and classic 1950's sci fi movies instead of just suddenly colorizing and lighting everything. Not of course that there's anything trite or cliche about it. . . . . we, the management would never conclude that you, the Powers-That-Be were either trite or cliche. Maybe you could just consult us next time or , well no, never mind. Please pay no attention to us at all. 

Honestly, we though better of it. 

Really.

Would you like some chocolate?

"The Management"

A Small Delay and A Slight Side Trip

I have just completed my yearly foray into Time Travel. Time Travel is exhausting and this excursion has made me think very deeply about how to move forward in the future. However,  it has also delayed the coherent execution of the Tales of the Tiny Alien, which will be Continuing Soon.

So if you are going through Tiny Alien withdrawal, please be patient, Crash is driving my energy back home as fast as he can.

For your entertainment, and proof that I am still alive, I humbly submit a Wordle for Dreamtime Drinne, if you click on it it should take you to the larger version on www.wordle.net.

The Taunting + Sesame Street has a New Cabbie

The Second Candle has been lit, the Second Night Poppets have been released.

Color Me Happy was greeted with Squeeing and joy. The recipient had been sure no one would ever think to get her a Poppet that was so cheery, and she had really, really wanted one. 

Crash Test Poppet was met with similar enthusiasim and immediate plotting since the human that Crash would be collaborating with is part of the construction team for the Embarrassed Embassy. 

The Second Candle Crew has joined the First Candle Crew, in front of the Matriarchal Menorah ( who knows that she is a Channukia but doesn't like putting on airs. ) Her name is Goldie and like everything else in the house there is a story behind her. While I am not often in the habit of anthropomorphizing ritual objects Goldie is special - she is the first Channukia I purchased myself and it took me about twelve years to find one that I wanted to own. 

Crash arrived on the same day as the Yellow Taxi Cab Company agreed to provide Poppet Size Service. There had been some question as to who would be driving the specialized vehicle. Crash of course applied for the job immediately and said he was proud to be part of a long line of immigrant cab drivers on Embassy Row.