Hail the Norton I - Emperor of the United States!

I first encountered the story of Norton when I read "Three Septembers and a January" from Fables and Reflections (Sandman VI) by Neil Gaiman, about five years ago. I was fascinated with his character so I did a quick google to find out more about him.

The Emperor is based on a historical figure named Joshua Norton, an English businessman from the 1840's who came to California to make his fortune, and instead, ended up losing it, supposedly in a lawsuit over a rice futures contract. (Norton, seeing the huge population in San Francisco's Chinatown, was trying to corner the market on rice.) Whether he was mad before or the deal sent him over the edge, Norton ended up living on the streets of San Francisco and soon issued a proclamation declaring himself the Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico. That a homeless fellow might indulge in delusions of grandeur is not unusual; that an entire city would be complicit in the delusion is.

The tailors of San Francisco supplied with Norton with top hats and grand tailcoats with gold braiding and epaulets. Restaurants allowed the Emperor to eat for free, and printers not only printed and posted Norton's proclamations, they created currency with his image on it, which was accepted from him by local businesses. Papers covered Norton as if he were a legitimate politician, despite some of his more insane proclamations: that a bridge be built across the Golden Gate, that another be built across the bay to Oakland, and that a league of nations be formed to resolve disputes without war.

The people of the city treated Nortin with great respect, and he them, as if they were indeed his subjects and he a benevolent ruler. There is a story that Emperor Norton even diverted a race riot in Chinatown when, after a crop failure in California's Central Valley, jobless men blamed the Chinese for their fate and stormed the neighborhood bent on burning it to the ground. Supposedly, Norton stopped them by putting himself between the workers and Chinese and reciting the Lord's Prayer.

In 1867, a police officer named Armand Barbier arrested Norton for the purpose of committing him to involuntary treatment for a mental disorder. The arrest outraged the citizens of San Francisco and sparked a number of scathing editorials in the newspapers. Police Chief Patrick Crowley speedily rectified matters by ordering Norton released and issuing a formal apology on behalf of the police force. Chief Crowley observed of the self-styled monarch "that he had shed no blood; robbed no one; and despoiled no country; which is more than can be said of his fellows in that line." Norton was magnanimous enough to grant an "Imperial Pardon" to the errant young police officer. Possibly as a result of this scandal, all police officers of San Francisco thereafter saluted Norton as he passed in the street.

When Emperor Norton died in 1880, more than 30,000 people marched in his funeral procession. His passing was marked by a total eclipse of the sun.

text based on You Suck by Christopher Moore and Wikipedia

Sick Leave

every now and again, i get sick and i am forced to go on leave from work for a couple of weeks at a time. as i sit here in bed, watching the days slip by, i remember a man with whom i had the privilege of being my mentor and my friend, sid gomez hildawa.

he once sent me a text message, asking my thoughts regarding his new blog. we exchanged opinions, and he decided to stick to naming it The SGH Foster-A-Poem Homepage. he asked me to choose a poem that i would like to take care of, and i selected Sick Leave, for obvious reasons.

and now, i would like to share with you the poem that reflects my current state of mind.

Sick Leave


Like a patch of skin spared
from sunburn by a shield
of cloth or sunblock lotion,
there's a rectangle on the wall
lighter than the wall itself,
where a painting used to hang.
Now that the artwork is gone,
visitors ask, "What used to be
there?,"
as if they hadn't seen the piece
before,
or maybe not carefully enough.
"Wasn't there a woman seated
in a cafe?, Didn't she have a glass
of wine, or some company?,"
The damp ground, eavesdropping
almost shifts, holding up a house
whose wall holds up a rusty nail
in its perpetual upturned pose,
holding up no answer.

On my fourth day in hospital
with dextrose feeding me twenty
drops a minute, I picture in my mind
a space I may have left behind,
not entirely empty, but of air
made thinner by my absence,
or of a lighter tissue,
so that people pause, inquire,
and imagine what used to be there.


"So where's the painting now?"



vvvvv

(With reference to Juan Luna's painting, "Parisian Life")

For more of his works, please visit http://lihawad.blogspot.com

Sid, you are sorely missed.

more doggie pics

mi boys

monster dawg

ah...duh?

look at me, i'm so cute

ready to slob

Meet Reeta

You've met Odin, and Chen, now meet Reeta, Odin's sister. She's Odin's littermate, with the official name of Calista of Stronghold. She weighs 40kgs, and is a master escape artist. She loves my tita's cats, and lets them bully her when feeding time comes.

She is a guaranteed softie.

chen

grocery shopping

i was looking at my blog just now and noticed that it's full of odin's pics and stories. it's now 7:47am and my brain is officially fried. i'll do a proper post on him when i have enough energy to do so. for now, here's chen when he was just two months old and could still fit in a grocery basket. enjoy!

a star is born (?)

who? me?

i took odin out for his morning walk today. i decided to take one of our shorter routes because the sun was already too hot for the both of us. we walked down quezon avenue and went straight to a fast food chain in pantranco to grab my lunch. on the way back, i thought it would be better if we walked down panay avenue because there was more shade there.

there was more traffic than usual, and there were a lot of people all huddled together in the middle of the street. i wondered what they were all doing standing under the heat. they didn't even have umbrellas with them! somebody could have had heatstroke! and then, i saw what they were gawking at. a film crew was shooting a scene in the local veterinary clinic.

i hesitated and wondered if we would be let through the street. then i decided that i didn't want to go back to quezon avenue because it was too damn hot, and i could walk anywhere i wish to go. this is my neighborhood, after all!

as i walked past the crowd, a man on the other side of the clinic told me that i could pass, provided that i just walked straight ahead and as natural as possible. nothing to it, i thought to myself. what the heck do i care about those actors anyway? it wasn't as if i'm a fan or anything. (well, they may be well-established stars, for all i care. but i don't watch tv these days so i don't know who's who in the showbiz world).

when i passed the clinic, i breathed a sigh of relief. finally, we can go home in peace...or so i thought...

"hey you! hold up!"

i continued walking as naturally and as fast my feet could take me, without looking back.

"i said you! stop! lady with the red shirt and the big dog! wait! come back!"
"were you talking to me? i'm sorry! did i ruin your shot?"
"nah, you were great! that dog is huge! what kind of dog is that? nevermind. i want you to walk again, as naturally as possible."
"ah...sure. if you say so."

and so we walked past the fighting couple in the vet clinic. again and again, take after take. when i saw that odin couldn't take the heat any longer, we just continued walking towards home - oblivious to the pleadings of the film crew. after all, my priority is odin's health, not his stardom.

i never ever thought that one of my dogs would ever on tv. but for two straight days, the two rival networks featured him - well, kind of. but still. hmm...now that i think of it, i never even asked what the title of the soap opera was. i wouldn't be able to see odin's teleserye debut! waah!

mr. wednesday

mondio ring is one of the toughest dog sports out there. it is a protection sport that tests the ability of the dog to protect both himself and his handler, even through extreme distractions. the sport trials are similar to the work performed by police dogs and the competition consists of obedience, jumps, and protection.

10 kilos of pure deadweight

i remember when i was still living near broadway centrum. my apartment was just in front of one of the country's most reputable canine training facilities. every tuesday and thursday nights, i would take my then 3 month old rottweiler to the training sessions. odin didn't like going out too much back then. he just wouldn't budge when i took him outside, so i had to carry him all the way to the training grounds. he was only 3 months old but he was almost 10 kilos - i almost always have asthma attacks during those days. but it didn't matter. the people there were so friendly and encouraging, even to a noob in mondio like me. they would each in turn give me tips on how to raise odin properly - from feeding him, exercising him, and to motivating him - all for free! we all prepared him for the upcat of the sport - but when the time came for him to take the test, he...um...ah...failed.

yes, he failed. why? he was too darn nice - and lazy. he didn't seem to see the point on why he had to attack a defenseless piece of sack. we tried changing it to his favorite rag, but it just didn't work. he would just stare at it for a few moments and then space out the other way, oblivious to the whole group egging him to just attack the freakin piece of cloth. they all told me not to lose hope, and for us to try again the next training session - which we did again and again and again. hell, 2 month old mals were out killing arm sleeves, for chrissakes! why couldn't he just take a darn bite out of a sodding sack?

then, i got promoted and got transferred to another account at a different site and i moved to an apartment that was nearer to my new office. needless to say, i had erratic working hours, and i couldn't just carry odin to the training grounds any longer. and so, odin lived the life of a pampered house pet. but i still had dreams that one day, even if odin wouldn't be able to participate in mondio ring competition, he would still be a fairly competent protection dog.

summer pet fair at the city

when i found out last week that there was going to be a mondio ring fun match at the summer pet fair at the sm north edsa, i tried to think of way of how i would be able to bring him so we would both be able to watch great dogs in action. i don't have a car and i've never taken him to places that we wouldn't be able to walk to. i decided to just try my luck and see if any taxi drivers would let me bring a big dog (he is now 48 kilos). good thing i was able to flag down a cab. the driver was a nice old chap, and he didn't mind odin drooling all over the backseat. (if bychance you're reading this, i'm so sorry! you have my eternal gratitude!)

but alas! when we got to the venue, they were already awarding the winners of the fun match. nonetheless, i was able to speak with eugene reyes and he told me to bring odin back to check if he finally has the drive fit for the sport.

since we were already there, we decided to see the other activities lined up for the afternoon. while waiting for the big, burly men to set up the equipment needed for the weight pulling contest, i took odin to the grooming station and asked the gentleman to clean his ears. as he was about to put the cotton swab inside his ears, odin suddenly pulled away and faced the other way, rubbing his butt against the poor guy's face. i was laughing so hard when i saw a guy from one of the major networks was filming us. i tried to move away from the direction of the camera so he could focus on odin's antics, but odin seemed to sense what was going on and just dragged me to the other side of the venue.

we went to watch the circus dogs perform their tricks. the two rival networks were covering the dancing poodles and the counting labs, so odin and i moved a wee bit to the side to where the petting zoo was. (i was watching a morning show earlier, and i saw the two of us pass by in the background, when they were featuring the basketball playing yellow labrador) inside the playpen were all sorts of toy dogs and kids were playing with them. i didn't want him to step on the tiny dogs, so we moved to near the entrance.

then, people started appraoching us and asking if they could pet odin. now, i know full well that in the wrong hands, rottweilers are a very dangerous breed and they have the strongest bite force amongst all domesticated animals. but i have been handling dogs for quite a long time, and i know his temperament. the worst that he could do is sniff your crotch and slobber you all over with goo. so i told them yes, they could pet odin; and no, i didn't mind if they took a photo with him. i moved so i wouldn't be a part of their pictures. babies rode him like a horse and one even kicked him in the face; nervous teenaged girls patted him nervously; big men patted him enthusiastically; and matronas, with all their fancy jewelry and make-up, hugged him tightly. and his reaction to all of these? he just stared at them and snorted and looked as if nothing interesting was happening!

oblivious to it all

it was about 5 in the afternoon when we decided to close shop and head home. i knew that i would have a difficult time in finding a cab if it was already evening. as we were driving back home with odin panting heavily in my lap, i couldn't help myself thinking, "poof! what just happened is proof that my dream of having him as a good protection dog is now kaput!"

unexpected package

the other day, i got a text message from my mom saying that i needed to come home as soon as i could. she didn't say why, but she insisted that i come asap. i was intrigued, so i packed my stuff and flagged the first cab that i saw.

upon reaching our doorstep, i could barely hear my mom shouting excitedly while my dogs were baying loudly. she immediately opened the door and blurted out that i got a package overnighted by lbc.

"who's it from?" i asked.
"i don't know, just open it!" said my mom.
"i wanna know first if this is really for me. i might get charged or something."

i took the package and examined it carefully. yeah, it was addressed to me, alright. but there wasn't an indication who it was from. hmm...

"did any of your brothers or sisters say that they will be sending me something?", i asked my mom.
"nah, haven't heard from them. just open it already!" she shouted.
"yeah, probably there's a note inside. lemme just get a pair of scissors..."

"give me that!", my mom shrieked while she grabbed the package.

she tore it open with her bare hands and these are what we found inside:

kenneth cole reaction wallet

kenneth cole reaction keychain

until now, i still have no idea from whom the package came from. my hunch tells me it's from one of my credit card companies, but i'm not so sure. they would have at least told me it came from them, right? i just hope i wouldn't get charged for something i didn't authorize. i guess i have to find out when i get my latest billing statement.

Sunday Bloody Sunday

Yes! I admit it! I'm a push-over, and a workaholic, to boot. I'm the laziest workaholic in the world - if there's such a thing. Anyway, after working 13-hour shifts for 9 straight days, my body was craving for rest.

It was an exhausting Saturday shift, with a lot of issues that needed my close supervision. Several of our people didn't report for work (the bastards were probably out on dates) and we lacked the manpower to meet our client's demands. Needless to say, we didn't meet them and I got drained in the process. At around 8:00, I finally acquiesced and silently waited for my agony to end. When the clock struck 9:00am, I immediately jumped ship and hailed the first coloured cabbie that I saw.

When I got home, I headed straight to my room. I sent an SMS to all my colleagues, telling them not to bother me for any reason because I was about to hit the sack. They sent their good night messages (even if the sun was glaring outside) and wished me good dreams. I was already in the fringe of the blessed realm of The Dreaming when I heard a voice booming in my ear.

"Wake up! We need to go to the mall! Now!"

"Hrrrm...nnnhh!"

"I said wake up! Get out of bed, this instant!"

"Nnnnhhh....nrrh....whu...wha...whut? Damn."

Crap. It was my mom, shouting at me. She wanted to head to the mall and needed me to come with her. I'm the only one in the family who knew how to operate an ATM and she wanted me to tag along so I can withdraw some cash. Reluctantly, I got up and went with her to the mall. She didn't know what she wanted so we spent the entire afternoon just looking around for things to buy. I could barely keep up with her, and she's past her 60's! That was how tired I was!

Then I remembered that they are now selling tickets for the upcoming Wolfgang concert through Ticketworld, so I asked her if we could drop by the Customer Service department of National Bookstore. I was able to get two Orchestra Center tickets (albeit at the far end already) and finally had something to be happy about the trip.

We went around the mall some more and came across an orchestra playing Beethoven's 5th Symphony. There was a big crowd that gathered, and I couldn't quite see who the performers were. I saw a white guy waving frantically in front of the crowd. I held my breath and thought, "It can't be! It must be Maestro Ruggero Barbierri at the helm! " And then, he turned around and I saw that he wasn't. But I wasn't too disappointed. After all, it has been quite a while since I was able to go to a symphony.

I thought how the acoustics of the mall would not be quite good enough for a symphony orchestra, but I realized that it didn't matter. They were bringing classical music to the masses, and they were responding positively. Of course, it would be much better if they held it in a concert hall, but people are usually adverse to going to such places. I closed my eyes and pushed my thoughts away. I eliminated distractions and prepared myself to listen to the music. And then, my mom yanked me away.

"Let's go! I want to buy some shoes! We don't have time for this nonsense!"

Aargh! Of all the people, I never thought that she'd react that way. She had been a concert pianist in her own time, and was a protegee of the late National Artist Lucrecia Kasilag. She was the one who introduced me to the works of Beethoven and Debussy! How can she call it nonsense?

I was hurt and was wondering why could she treat classical music as nonsense when we passed by Fullybooked. Needless to say, it is my favorite bookstore and I am a loyal customer of their branch in Gateway. I wanted to go in and check what books would pique my interest but my mom wouldn't let me, saying that we didn't have enough time. She told me that I didn't need any more books because I still have a lot at home, and my money would be better spent if I just buy her some more clothes.

I was so frustrated and was on the verge of tears when we passed by a candy store. I checked what different candies they have on stock and was excited when I saw some popping chocolates. I wanted to get one and see what else they had in store but then again, my mom grabbed my hand and led me towards the department store.

That was the last straw. I couldn't take it anymore. In the first place, I was already dead tired yet I accompanied her to the mall. She knew that. But why couldn't she let me get something that I would enjoy? I don't get it. I didn't speak for the remainder of our shopping excursion and let her babble on and on

When we finally reached home (around 9pm), I went straight to my room and dreamt about eating chocolates in the Tanghalang Nicanor Abelardo.

Sunday, bloody Sunday.

Dug up memories

While looking for a folder where I could save a commendation file to, I chanced upon an article drafted by yours truly three years ago for a customer service week activity. The theme was "What to you is excellent customer service?". Haha, reading it now makes me smile. It may have been a product of a kiss ass culture but some parts of it actually ring true. 'Nuff said. Read on.

In customer service, every company stands by an unwritten rule, a mantra unfortunately clichéd not by overuse but by non-practice- Satisfaction Guaranteed.
The dictionary defines satisfaction in a variety of ways- contentment; gratification; payment of what is due; or meeting what is expected. Customer service is supposed to be all this and more.
Everybody has been through good and bad customer service and no matter how simple or complicated the problem may have been, one thing remains constant and that is the fact that only a hair’s breadth sets the former apart from the latter. One wrong word, one wrong action and every good deed is wasted on an overly sensitive customer.
Clients can be pompous, that’s a fact. Their overbearing attitude sometimes come from the fact that they are afraid and confused, and them putting the blame on another person or venting out their frustrations on to somebody else often drives one to the conclusion that the client has a personal vendetta against the company or against the rep, a conclusion that ultimately becomes the cause of a loss.
As Nancy Friedman pointed out, it is important to empathize with the caller. Putting one’s self in the client’s shoes would go a long way to helping one see his concerns and addressing the issue more effectively. It is imperative that one is on the same boat with the caller to be able to come up with the best course of action.
Taking ownership of the situation is a subtle yet efficient way to broadcast the message that one is able to resolve the matter at hand in the shortest time possible. Callers want somebody to lift the burden from their shoulders, someone who will take responsibility, someone they know they can depend on.
It is true that there are different kinds of customers and there are different kinds of personalities who pick up the phone and dial the service line. The representative then has to have the capacity to be a chameleon, a shape shifter in every instance. One has to know when to be firm and distant, witty and chatty, or sympathetic and meek. This helps the caller know that the representative cares, that they are important in the company they are with. If customer service is the game, adaptability is to be the CSP’s name.
Service should be accompanied not just by enthusiasm but also with joy. Joy comes willingly from the heart, and a heart that is willing to serve is a person who is capable of anything at anytime.
For each call that a representative receives, one has to be able to size up the situation and give fair judgment that will be beneficial to both the organization and the company. One has to be able to stand up for the organization’s standards and defend his way through all the bashings that the client sometimes is capable of delivering. He or she has to be able to withstand the throes of depressing, and sometimes upsetting situations without having his feathers ruffled.
Achieving excellent customer service is one bumpy ride on a rickety car along a very rocky road. There is no way around it, no short cuts, no easy ways out. There is no denying the fact that the way can be really tricky sometimes, but hey, as drivers of this ride called customer service, our goal should be to take the passengers, our clients, across with as much comfort as we can afford them. We have jobs because our customers need us.
We serve. We deliver. Satisfaction, assured; excellence, guaranteed.

admin's note: these are jj's opinions - hers and hers alone. capeesh?

my books

the sandman: dream hunters (signed by neil gaiman)

This is the very first Sandman novel that I got. When I had to choose from which one of my books would get signed, this one was on top of the list. Neil Gaiman signed it when he came over for the opening of Fullybooked Gateway last '05. I was in line for more than 9 hours! Good thing the people there were really nice, and we all became fast friends. Aside from this, Neil also signed my copy of The Kindly Ones, but it was just a squiggle so I didn't bother taking a picture of it.

creatures of the night (signed by neil gaiman)

The Price is the very first Gaiman story that I have read. Our professor in Humanities is a big Gaiman fan, and we discussed this short story in one of our classes. I remember sobbing like a little girl when I first read it at home. When I got this limited illustrated edition, I promised myself to have it signed. So when I heard that Neil was one of the special guests of the Ad Congress last '07, I went to Subic and attended the conference. He read the first chapter of the then unpublished Graveyard Book - and I found out that I was one of the very few who already knew about the story of Nobody Owens (I had a copy of the fourth chapter from M is for Magic). Afterwards, he encouraged all the attendees to write, and gave helpful tips on how we could improve our styles. I was able to ask him a lot of questions, and he answered all of them. At the end, we all fell in line to have our books signed - but it only took me roughly around 15 minutes and I was already in front. Aside from Creatures of the Night, he also signed Good Omens, the screenplay of Beowulf, and Expeditions: Prose. On top of that, he gave me a couple of big hugs and a kiss! I have a picture of me rubbing faces with him lying around somewhere. I'll post it when I find it. ^_^

the absolute sandman: volumes 1-4

These are my most expensive books to date. Combined, I would already be able to buy a DSLR with these guys. I know, I already have the trade edition of the Sandman but I just couldn't resist completing the set. Also, these books are roughly 4 kilos each. I tried lifting all of them together, but I wasn't able to. I think I might need to use a stroller to have them signed when Neil comes back here in Manila. T_T

more on pens...

parker urban: london cab black rollerball

i'm thinking of getting this pen...maybe on my rd, i'll drop by cutting edge in trinoma to get one. i know, i know. i said that i didn't want a parker because i thought it's mainstream. but who wouldn't fall in love with the design of the parker urban? it's so sleek and sexy! *sighs*

update on my pilot pen: no, it's not missing. it's still safely tucked inside its special case in my pedestal. i just want to share that i found one that looks almost the same in edsa shang over the

weekend. how much are they selling it for? drumroll please. php 7,500! odk! i'm so lucky i got mine for a measly php750! thank goodness for connections!

The Art of Getting Lost

Something I'm looking forward to this January. Everyone's invited!

wabaaa!

jack and wobbuffet

i had the hardest time in trying to find a wobbuffet plush. for two years, i had my friends scour the big cities in the us but they couldn't find any. i guess pokemon isn't big in the states anymore.

and where did i find the lil bugger? it was just hanging in a small toy kingdom kiosk in megamall! it was on sale because nobody wanted it! good grief!

author's note: i bought wobuffet in TOY KINGDOM, not TOYS R US. i'm sorry if i caused you any undue inconvenience (if you want to go to toys r us, it's in trinoma)

sorry lemon!

my pen!!!

my uber rare pilot pen

when i found out that i was going to be sent to cali for training last '07, i decided to treat myself by getting an expensive pen. i'm not really a fan of fancy pens - mainly because i'm not used to writing anymore. i guess i just wanted to have something flashy to use when i needed to take down notes or sign documents and stuff. (chuckles evilly)

i didn't want to get a parker or a cross (mainstream! lame!) so i immediately asked my father if he had something in mind that fits my criteria. he pointed me to different spots and i found myself in binondo, talking to an old chinese guy who happened to be the local distributor of both parker and pilot pens. i didn't think i'd be getting a pen at his store but my interest was piqued when he mentioned that he had something from pilot that's never going to be released in the local market. when he told me the reason why (people found it too expensive), my heart dropped. i didn't think i'd be able to afford it. but the gods smiled at me that day and he offered me the pen at presyong puhunan! i'm not sure how much it would have cost if it did hit the market, but from what i've heard, the mark-up for these items usually range from 300-500%, sometimes even more!

so yeah. i love this pen. if i can't take it where i'm going, i keep it locked inside my pedestal. but i have lost this pen a lot of times already - more than i can count! last time i did, i almost gave up and even scouted for a suitable replacement. i almost got a parker urban - london cab rollerball! ODK! good thing it turned up again in my workstation last saturday morning. i guess my relationship with this pen is almost the same as what orpheus has with his earring: no matter how many times we lose them, they keep on turning right up. thank the gods! thank the gods!

Missin' What I Thought I'd Be Glad to Let Go

I miss my old team. I'm just glad that somehow, I became an integral part of their lives, and they became a part of mine. Be safe, team 8.

on sacrifice...(Bantay Baboy '09)

IT

i was tasked to bring lechon for our company's new year celebration. since we're using a common pantry, i had to ward off people from other accounts from getting a piece of it.

and so, i stayed seated beside the pig. for several long hours i did nothing but stare at...ah...um...it. it may be a girl pig, it may be a boy pig. i'm not sure...i wasn't able to flip it over to check its genitals. but it had long eyelashes, so it may have been a girl. but then, i've seen boy camels with long eyelashes, so i'm not quite sure. oh well, to be safe, i'll just use it.

where was i? oh yeah. i was seating in the pantry, staring at the pig. sometimes at its face, most of the time at its butt. a little mist was forming in the room because of the pig's heat, combined with the ac blasting at 15 degrees. the smell of roasted flesh and fresh blood was permeating the air, and i couldn't help zoning off and wonder if the pig realized that it was led away from its pen to be slaughtered; so its meat would be feasted upon by my officemates. and if it had an inkling of its fate, how was it able to continue marching toward its ultimate fate? perhaps, deep in the recesses of its mind, it knew that it was making a sacrifice.

sacrifice. to make sacred. as i sat there, staring at the pig's eyelashes, i began to think about sacrifice; how different cultures offered countless lives and blood to their gods and to their causes.

my thoughts shifted then drifted to hinzelmann, a kobold in german mythology. his was a sad story. for the safety and prosperity of the tribe, a sacrifice is needed to take place. a babe would be taken from his parents and isolated. from infancy, he would be left alone in a darkened hut at the far end of the village. never talked to, never hugged, never kissed, never loved. on his fourth birthday, he would finally be led outside of his hut. the tribe's strongest man would carry him on his back and they would dance towards the village bonfire. he would stand dumbfounded and blinking, light entering his eyes for the first time. they would dress him warmly with red velvet, then fed the finest food and given the strongest drink. a woman would then snatch him from the rest of the crowd. she would hug him and kiss him, and he would sit in her arms wondering why were tears flowing down her cheeks. and then he would be grabbed and spun around by men, and given more drink. not knowing how to express himself, he would cry. but when he sees the people laughing, he too begins to laugh. for the first time in his life, he is happy. and then, his heart is pierced with two burning swords.

the happy tribe would then smoke his remains and put it inside a wooden box. they would carry it around wherever they went, and offer sacrifices to it. he was their god now, and he would protect them and give them prosperity. but as germany became christianized, his role in their mythos morphed, and he was transformed into a ambivalent house spirit: something like the elves, pucks, or brownies. residents would give small offerings of milk and honey for him, so he would continue protecting the household.

but now, since we're in the age of science and rationality, he doesn't have a place left in the world. i can't help but think how sad he must be, little hinzelmann, and if his sacrifice was worth anything at all.

i was sitting in the pantry, staring at the pig, thinking about hinzelmann and about sacrifice. i looked around the room and thought to myself that i also have made a sacrifice. i gave up my time for the long eyelashed pig. and i wondered if my sacrifice would amount to anything at all.

and then my boss arrived and gave me a cup of chocolate ice cream. woohoo!

on death...

my ultimate wish during this lifetime is to die when i decide that i finally want to.

nah, i'm not talking about killing myself. i must admit that thought crossed my mind before, especially during my turbulent teenage years, but that's not what i meant.

i've been an on-and-off practioner of rajah yoga / meditation since college and i want to have the power and self-control to decide not to come back from the higher planes in this incarnation.

well, it's the start of a new year. my resolution is to allot more time in my studies and practice so i would be able to attain my fondest wish.