Well, all the signs are there.
Either you're onboard with the Plan or you're picking songs for the last performance on the Titanic. Bon voyage, and I hope you packed something warm and waterproof.
Now, the wife has (as many other females have, I've been informed) an aunt names "Flo" that comes to visit about every 21 days... And I have my Lunacy.
Full moon madness!! Everything must Gooooooooooo! And I lose rational faculties for minutes, hours and sometimes DAYS. But it's s a good thing, I'll tell you, because when the Beast is in control, none of that civilized crap matters at all. Instinctual. Primal. Sensory. The Human Animal in all it's splendor. And possibly the most grounding of archetypes. When the Beast comes a'callin' I can rid myself of the burden of being a man.
Tribal shaman became the Beast to fight off attacks from the dark fringes of the Mud World, a system that has kep some tribes safe for tens of thousands of years. And somehow this noble and righteous cause is hardly represented in our culture at all. Nobody's patrolling the border. Nobody's on lookout for the Good, the Bad and the Ugly.
And then there's me. I feel so hopelessly connected, constantly looking past the film and beyond, whether I want to or not. Senses are heightened, and aggression is my primary defensive strategy. No sense in trying to interject a well-crafted arguement at a time like this. It's part of the Job. Rational mind be damned. Time to go hunting...
... And I'm gone.
There's no earthly way of knowing, which direction we are going...
Watch each other's backs. DO what you can. And find something to hang on to.
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