Friday, August 12, 2005

My name's not Bamber

I've been thinking about traffic lights, and their relevance to the general Pagan community. And yes, I realize that sounds like an odd stream of consciousness, but hear me out. Over the years, I've met several individuals who fell into Wicca and/or Paganism because... um, go ahead and sit down for a sec. Comfy? Okay, good... because when they want a traffic light to stay green, they just think about it, and the light remains green long enough for them to drive through. Such is the awesome scope of their mighty psychic and magical power.

So yeah, I've been thinking about this lately. Not about how ludicrous it sounds (I told you to sit down, didn't I?), but because it actually seems to work.

At some point in your life, you've barreled towards a green light while thinking "Stay green! Stay green, damn you!" And I would hazard a guess that you were not the only one on the road having those thoughts. More than likely, everyone in the cars around you--Christian, Pagan, Buddhist, Hindu, Baha'i, Snake Handler, whatever--was thinking the exact same thing, determined to not get stuck at a red light. So what we have, then, is a large group of individuals focusing their mentalities down to a single, shared intent, and all that energy joins together and projects outward. As such, the light stays green. The first person to be distracted by a Britney Spears song disrupts that flow of energy, and gets left behind as the light changes color.

See? Not ludicrous at all.

On a related note, the first person to post a comment listing the title and artist of the song referenced in the headline of this entry will win a prize. A nifty prize. Promise.

You can get up now.

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

What we leave in our wakes

No matter if I become a bestselling author, or a world-reknowned star of stage and screen: A certain woman who works in my office building will forever remember me as that guy who farted on the elevator.

Sunday, August 07, 2005

Hey, I thought I was the rational, logical one...

Jack, my trusty life partner, has spent the afternoon watching a marathon of spider-themed horror movies on the Sci-Fi channel. I wandered into the living room just as several terrible actors, sneaking through a top secret military complex, realized that the power had gone out. As such, none of the locks worked, and therefore nothing was preventing the genetically-altered mutant spiders from escaping into polite society.

"And that's the fundamental flaw in science fiction!" Jack suddenly yelled, jabbing the remote control at the television for emphasis. "Every time the electricity goes out, it means that some horrible evil is going to be unleashed on mankind. If it were really that important to keep a big, scary monster contained, somebody would've installed deadbolts."

Wow, I thought, reeling from the massive jolt of realism smacking me in the face. That really is a fundamental flaw in science fiction. As far as I'm concerned, Jack is officially the most logical being on the planet. I think for his birthday, I'm going to hit a costume shop and present him with his very own pair of pointy ears. He can be the big gay Vulcan the Federation doesn't want you to know about.