Making out with Mara and Lil' David Does Decaf

So much for being a cyber recluse. So much for serenity. So much for being a dot.com luddite who refuses to lose his elbow-grease blue-collar lunchpail writing antics in lieu of a week brimming with the possibility of Thoreau-like Tranquility. So much for Starbucks House Decaf Blend which I bought in bulk from Sam's Club yesterday in an ill-timed endeavor to gradually wean me away from the knee cap-jittery-pyrotechnic nerve-imploding potion commonly refered to in the North American cultural arogt as a cup-o-joe and, after freshly percolating the decaf grains and taking a half-swig of my morning ersatz ablution I rashly dumped the pot over and abruptly sprinted to JESTERS coffee where I took formidable pleasure ingesting a bona fide cup-o-joe with an extra shot of espresso before logging on to my workstation this morning.


AHHHHHHHH......life is back to normal.

Made out with Mara this weekend which was the impetus of much social peril. Mara's real name is Lilith the Librarian. Lilith likes to toast a few wine coolers by herself around happy hour and then call up her co-workers drunk and harangue them for pulsating. She's been doing this for quite a while now and for some reason the faceless corporate shadows upstairs have grown innured to her antics and continue to pardon her. Last month she went on her weekly binge and really hurt a dear friend of mine. (Called her house. Said that her daughter was a slut. That sort of thing.)

Working with Lilith is like opening the passenger door for an acquaintance after a company party and watching them still take pleasure in vomiting on your dashbaord. Ever since Lilith hurt my friend I've remained amicably aloof. Yesterday it festered. She snapped. I snapped. And then, suddenly, little graphic novel POW and BLAM signs were popping up everywhere. Holy Non-Detachment Batman.

I hate losing my collective cool and I totally did yesterday. I got written up for saying the f-word. She went to her office and poured another peach schnapps. I threatened to file a grievance charge if she didn't apologize for always hurting people. She went home early.


Ahhhhh....life is back to normal.

Of course, as with any tiff, things blow over. Find that narrow channel of co-worker equilibrium ( or toleration?) and the jarring emotional straight navigates the Atlantic into the Pacific. Lock two diverse-sexed gorrilas in a cage and before that take a sincere jab at pecking out HAMLET they'll either mate or hit each other over the head. Same is true with the marriage of two mara-oriented minds. THWAP!

Of course, it wasn't a dud. I slumbered home defeated (Mistuh D was Mistuh Disconsolate) and this segued perfectly into a lecture from Uncle Mike on Detachment.

"If you don't detach yourself from the problem, you're never going to be able to harness the solution." He said.

And of course, I don't detach. When Joseph Campbell comments on detachement he talks about Christ in the Garden. When Christ was betrayed by Judas his disciple Peter un-sheathed his sword and ( in a manner that only mirrors the notorious 'ear' scene in Tarrentino's Rez' Dawgz) severed of the earlobe of a Roman assailant. Christ picked up the ear-lobed, healed his enemy's side visage and then turned back to Peter.

"Put down your sword," was what Christ told him.

I should of just sat on my sword or swallowed my tongue, but no, I brandished my blade and thrashed into battle. I was out for blood, or at least a scalp.

Uncle Mike told me the story about when the Master was in Hafai he had a men spit at him everyday for Twenty-three years. The Master would give him money too, and then man would still spit at him.

"You don't think that didn't require detachment?" Uncle Mike inquired.

SWOOOOOOOOP! (That's the sound of my graphic novel sword that I'm about ready to re-sheath.)


Thank god for little tiffs and thank god for friends. Talked with daniela last night (she was graceful receptacle for my angst) and she even chanted a very kind prayer. Have you seen daniela's blogg recently? All of a sudden her blogg's become the universalized mystic social hub (and I feel like I'm only a spoke in the wheel).....wow, guess when you emanate forth with so much light, everyone wants proximity; everyone wants their skin to turn gold; everyone wants their spirit to transition into an auburn tan.

Time to go, but not before I make more Holy comic book sounds, Batman.

THWAP!!!! FAWHIZZZZZZ!!!!! SHACKLE-JACKLE!!!!!!!!!!! FWOW!!!!!!!!!!!!