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ursulav

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Our spider came back last night, built up his web, and this morning is gone again, taking it with him. I'm sure this is a perfectly logical spider behavior, but from where I'm sitting, that looks like a damn smart--or at least polite!--spider.

In theory, I suppose, Darwinian evolution should work for courtesy, too. If we kill all the rude bugs, the polite ones will rule the earth.

Had a strange dream last night. In between the nonsensical bits (and really, how much is left?) I was crouched over a stream with a prospector's pan, panning through the dirt. Except instead of gravel, this streambed was made of various small objects--buttons, watches, widgets, and what not--and I kept picking out all these tiny jade carvings of Ganesh. Huh. Maybe I need a remover of obstacles...or maybe so many obstacles have been removed of late, I should find a way to thank the compassionate gentleman. (Well, I feel like thanking SOMEBODY, and Ganesh is the most likely candidate in my case. And certainly the coolest looking.)

I kinda doubt, however, that there are any temples to Ganesh in the Cary area, so I dunno what's the polite thing to do. I have a somewhat odd relationship with this deity, in that, using him in Digger as I do, I have this kind of perpetual feeling of obligation. This is a god who I am working for serious creative mileage. I dunno if he likes that sort of thing. Although I assume if he didn't like it, he's got plenty of methods for dealing with it, and since doing "Digger" has been one long sequence of obstacles melting, I suppose he must be fine with it. Still. It's probably polite to thank the god you're using as a plot point. I wonder if there's an Hindu advice column I can write to or something.

Not unlike my relationship to Money Frog, I am a hardheaded rationalist who would not for a moment insist that there is any logical basis for my belief, or that anyone should think I'm anything but a slightly addled nutball for thinking it. Then I go back and pet Money Frog when cash comes in anyway, because humans like to believe in things. I figure as long as I don't start roaming around smiting people ("Blood and souls for my lord Money Frog!") or insisting that they teach Moneyfrogism in schools, or try to claim any particular moral high ground because I am the Favored of Money Frog, it'll be fine.

I wonder if Ganesh takes Paypal...


This all sounds very much like my relationship with Coyote.

If not PayPal, then probably peanuts...

*chuckles* A polite spirder. *grins* It reminds me of the wlf spider that lived in my room wen I was a child. He stayed in the corner, never came down, and I never had any issues with bugs. It was an agreeable arrangement.

I can almost picture your spider having tea and reading the newspaper...

Sounds like a good idea for a painting.

I have a little one-inch bronze Ganesh sitting on my bookshelf at home. I give him candy, since he's said to like sweet things—he's currently sitting in the midst of a small pile of bite-sized peanut butter cups, mini chocolate Easter eggs and Hanukkah gelt. (Don't get me started on the theological implications of that...)

Actually, I haven't given him anything in a while, and I've been feeling blocked. Maybe I should pay some tribute.

Gold wrapped chocolate coins cross all theological bounderies. What else explains why St. Nicholas leaves Hanukkah gelt in my shoes on Dec. 6th?

"Blood and souls for my lord Money Frog!" That cracked me up something fierce. I blame finishing Bane of the Black Sword last night. Great, one of my coworkers just stuck his head in to ask what was so funny and he just doesn't get it.

One of us needs to paint you wielding a soul-steeling paintbrush upon masses of innocent art directors with the melavolent Lord Money Frog cackling wildly in the background.

*grin* I figured that out of 600+ people on the reading list, at least ONE would get that joke...I'm so gratified.

When dealing with the Hindu gods, a stick of incense never hurt.

I have a similar relationship with Freya, in that I write stories about her and she sends a profit my way. Or a few other things, but we'll not go into that...*grin*

The next time you're in PA visiting the family you could always throw in some extra time and make a trip to Pittsburgh to visit the Sri Venkateswara Temple. (Which is, coincidentally, just a stone's throw from me, and also a stone's throw from what is apparently a startlingly good, cheap, oddly-located vegetarian indian place.)

Tell us more about the MOney Frog too?

I am a hardheaded rationalist who would not for a moment insist that there is any logical basis for my belief, or that anyone should think I'm anything but a slightly addled nutball for thinking it. Then I go back and pet Money Frog when cash comes in anyway, because humans like to believe in things.

I like your take on mysticism. People who really believe and act like they believe mystical things often unnerve me (and occasionally make me jealous). But there's something charming about not REALLY believing ... yet really going through certain motions anyway. You know. Just in case. ;)

Religion is a strange thing, especially when you're not bonded to any particular belief system. And sometimes I think it's utter hogwash, and sometimes I think there's something there.

In the past I've felt touched by Trickster (no particular version, more a kind of composite), and when I've really thought about it and acknowleged it, something always seems to go horribly awry. In the ironic way that happens in so many Trickster myths. Lately some things have made me wonder at a possible long-standing touch of dangerous dark feminine aspect - Yin/Kali/Furies/etc - and... that's just not something I feel like i should explicitly invite into my life without a lot of thought and research.

Is it the mind seeing random chance through the filters we impose, and making unconscious choices based on that view as well? Or is it Something Else? I don't know.



I find myself momentarily tempted to scribble out an albino Ursula in battle frenzy, but that will pass.

I'm personally a hard-s/f rational realist trapped in a whimsical on-again off-again relationship with Eris that defies - or deifies - conventional nomenclature, without delving into the scores of figments of my imagination that feel the same way about my existence as I do about theirs.

But I digress.

You'd be surprised how near the closest shrine to Ganesh might be. When we were looking through the home we bought last year, we found a strong scent of incense upstairs, getting stronger as we grew closer to the linen closet. So, naturally, we opened it.

And there he sat, in all his tusky glory. Surrounded by shineys, sheets on the shelves below, towels on the shelves above. I had to marvel at the practicality of the niche - and no need for scented fabric softener.

The previous owners took him with them, when they left - but the incense lingers. Lingers? Lingers?!? We've torn the drywall out of the closet and tossed all the shelves, and STILL, 'The Smellophant' remains. Sheesh...

Uhm. What I think I'm saying is, appropriately, 'follow your nose'. Doesn't have to be a public shrine, if you're just looking to check in and toss a ginger-peanut chew his way, does it?

That was grand - "Smellophant"!

I adore those tiny spaces and the surprises that they hold. I was hiking up a creek-bed, that I have known since I was small myself, a few years back and I stopped to check this niche in the roots and stones that I have been leaving blessing-flowers for in nearly forever. There was a handful of a statue there, round and pressed against the cool earth was handmade stone-age style Goddess Lady. She was glistening and sweet. I gave her the flowers and was glad.

This is why I create my own gods. :P

Really, though, if I were a god I'd consider "Digger" high praise.

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You now have me wondering how Ganesh responds to spam.

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THE DREAD GOD MONEY FROG DOES NOT ALLOW HIS FOLLOWERS THE LUXURY OF DEATH

I always say thank you to the little gods of parking. They like a shot of good liqour poured on the driveway, and you never have to worry about getting bad parking spots again.

"Great God Sknot - Grant me a parking spot - Your nuns are in the mail"

I am do mail nuns now and again, by postcard. I wonder where they end up and what confusion or mirth they cause?

Personally, I always just fling a 'Thank you' or a 'Thanks for nothing!' into the air, directed at anyone who'se listening at the time. So far, that's worked... although small, oddly dressed teenagers in black lipstick screaming "Damn you, whichever-mystical-presence-or-other-omnipotent-being-flung-THAT-one-down-on-me!" at nothing in particular doesn't give the subculture much good press.