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johnpalmerThis is long, and only of interest if you are interested in the strange inter-relationship of my life, and a particular newsgroup, alt.callahans.
Okay, I suppose it could still be of interest without that... but you might not understand anything about it.
The long and the short of it is, a flame war started. And, it's *nothing* that I couldn't handle, and haven't handled, god, a dozen times before *at least*.
But it made me realize that certain things have changed over the years. Both the place, and me. And, it made me realize it was time to say good-bye.
If anyone wants to see how Callahans favorite (only... which is the only reason I claim 'favorite') Crazyman says goodbye, it's after the cut tag. Anyone else can skip it.
John walks in, figuring it's long past time for a bit of magic work.
He's dressed in proper clothing... at least, he figures he is. A
tee-shirt, and a pair of casual 'no belt' pants. The 'no belt part
seems a mistake, until he stops, smiles, and digs into his pants
pocket, and pulls out a handful of change, that he drops with his
other belongings. He keeps forgetting to *do* something with that
change....
He closes his eyes, and draws in focus, then slowly gestures, and a
space clears, and is set off with proper soundproofing. There's a
small area that would be a stage if there was a performance to be
given, and comfortable seating.
He then sets the four points of the compass, asking for the help and
wisdom of spirits of air, fire, water, and earth... asking also of the
north, the help of his spirit guide, the great northern bear.
Then, suddenly struck by a thought, he opens an area in the
soundproofing (which is mere VR, and by no means 'magical'), and
manually sets out more chairs outside of the main circle.
Some people might feel forbidden to partake of magic even
peripherally, by sitting in the circle with him. These people will be
able to see, and hear, all that those in the circle would.
Then, he opens a door in the circle with his athame, and ushers in any
who wish to join them. They will have no work to do, but if they wish
to add energy to the proceedings, they may.
From those, he asks some to move closer. These people are those who
can accept that magical working can only be done, in perfect love, and
perfect trust... any for whom this mutual love and trust exist, are
welcome. The rest are not excluded, but are simply asked not to give
their energy to a very personal working of magic.
"Magic takes on many forms," he says, once everyone who wishes to be
is in position. "The most important rule to magic to consider here is
that what matters, matters... why it matters is irrelevant."
There is some haziness; Does John suddenly know how to play the
guitar? Or is it merely one of his friends who knows how to play, who
is willing to help? But some sweet guitar chords start, and John, in
opposition to the norm of reality, is blessed with temporarily perfect
singing ability.
(Beat Up Guitar, by The Hooters, off of the Zig Zag album)
"You lived on Vine street, I lived at home.
The music was all that we had of our own.
No satisfaction, no gas in my car,
but we had the keys to the world, in my beat up guitar.
With that beat up guitar, you and I will ride away,
from the town that rocked the nation, Philadelphia P.A.
Kensington station, we sat on the track
I wrote you a song, though I knew it was flat
You laughed when they told me, you won't get too far,
if you spend the rest of your life with that beat up guitar...
With that beat up guitar, you and I will ride away
From the town that rocked the nation, Philadelphia P.A.
(Overlay)
A second John appears, while the first keeps singing.
"It's always been one of my favorite songs, really... and not just
because of the fact that I was born and raised in Philadelphia. Just
the notion of following your dreams, even when they're not the most
realistic dreams in the world, knowing you'll have to set off from
your familiar home. And... well, one of the last lines always chokes
me up a bit, too.
(The second John fades, leaving the singing John clearly seen and
heard)
"With that beat up guitar, you and I will ride away
From that town that rocked the nation, Philadelphia P.A.
And with that beat up guitar, we're coming home again someday
To that town that rocked the nation, Philadelphia P.A."
The song continues a bit further, of course, and John takes a sip of a
glass of diet Sierra Mist that someone has thoughtfully provided.
"This one is one of my favorites, because I always wish the words were
a little bit different; there are days it could be my theme song if it
were... well, if it weren't the same song."
He smiles at the incongruity of that thought; that a song could be a
great song if it wasn't the same song anymore, and then the music
starts again.
(Behind Blue Eyes - The Who)
"No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
"No one knows what it's like
to be hated
to be fated
to telling only lies"
(Overlay)
The other John is back. "I'm certainly not fated to telling only lies,
for example. But there are many times I understand the feeling that no
one knows what it's like be be who you are... that no one sees inside,
and no one will.
The song doesn't continue in the same tone, though... it becomes
defiant, with a man saying things you could picture screaming back at
the universe, no matter what is thrown at him. A man who might feel
lost, but is not now, and never will be, ready to give up. It's only
for a wrap up that the song returns to it's sadder sound..."
(And the audience can hear that...
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man...
Behind blue eyes."
The overlay John smiles, and says "I have to give the commentary on
this one first. I've gained a fascination with rap over the years, the
notion of minimalist music, and one of the forms of music that is
purely, 100% US home grown.
"That doesn't mean I always like the subject matter, and one in
particular always bothered me. "Cop Killer", by Ice T.
Then I finally heard it. Now, I don't know if I'm naive or not, but
sometimes our illusions are worth holding, unless and until the truth
is available, and I like to pretend that Ice T never wanted anyone to
kill any cops. I think he wanted them to sing that song, and piss off
a few of the bad cops, and get people to realize you should be *good*
and *ANGRY* at police brutality.
However, I think I have a more... socially acceptable way of singing
that song right now.
I better warn you, there's still a lot of violence in this one... you
might want to put the kids to bed.
So, with a nod to Ice T, we'll just pretend I have his backup band,
and, through a lovely piece of magic..."
And a hot, fast, heavy metal band starts playing in the background.
John's now wearing a hat backwards on his head, but it's not a
baseball cap... it's a naval officer's hat! Just to continue to ruin
the image, he's wearing what appears to be a leather tuxedo coat, with
the arms ripped off, and his pants seem just a tad bit baggier than
before.
The first words of the song ("COP KILLER!" in Ice T's version) are
muffled, perhaps to avoid spoiling the surprise...
(TTTO: Cop Killer, by Ice-T)
He's got his jet skates on
he's got his stick-um on
he's got his knee pads on
Wile E is going long
He's got his birdseed laid out
And a fake tunnel blacked out
He wants me to come out
Next round of our big bout!
I'm a ROADRUNNER, better him than me
Roadrunner, watch out coyote!
Roadrunner, I know you're gonna be grievin',
Roadrunner, but I'm gonna keep speeding!
A package from Acme
Just tryin' to crack me
a jet speeded sled
and that bozo ain't dead!
Now it's time to start running
cause he's gonna start gunning
his plan's really stunning
wish he'd stick to just punning!
ROADRUNNER, better him than me...
Roadrunner, watch out coyote!
Roadrunner, I know you're gonna be grievin',
Roadrunner, but I'm gonna keep speeding!
(At this point, Ice-T's song is mostly instrumental with (ahem)
repetitive lyrics suggesting the police be fornicated or adultered as
appropriate, so we'll just play it out as an instrumental....)
John smiles, now, there's only one of him, and the instruments are
gone, for the moment.
He's speaking slightly rhythmically, as you might imagine people might
in a ritual story telling.
"Today, while running, I had a vision of the deer brought down by the
wolves. I don't know if the wolves hunt dear, nor if they do so in a
pack or not. And, I do not know if animals can speak, even spirit to
spirit, so I can not claim this vision was true. But I can tell you
what I saw.
An old buck was brought down, because he was old, and tired, and weak.
And the top wolf said to him "Now, another deer will live; go now, to
the summerlands, knowing your death had purpose."
A doe was brought down, because she'd lured the wolves from her fawn.
And the top wolf said to her "Well done! We could not feast on a
smaller animal when we had our chance at you! Go now, to the
summerlands, knowing that your death had purpose."
And another deer was brought down, neither old, nor protecting
another, but simply because deer are hunted by wolves in this vision
of mine, and it is the way of the world for the hunters to hunt the
prey, when they need to eat.
And they said "We will eat you, but another deer is spared, to grow
stronger and faster; maybe this winter, one of us will starve, because
the only deer who remain are too fast for us. Go now, to the
summerlands, knowing that even this death had purpose."
John smiles sadly, realizing that this spell is reaching its climax.
Gathering his energies, people see he is building... something. He
realizes the time for showing what he's building has not come, yet.
So he chants...
"Every pain can matter
As does every sparrow's fall
So go and live your feelings
always listen for their call.
Every laugh can matter
and bring some joy to all
so open up to happiness
and shout it down the hall.
Every love does matter
And makes us stronger still
So love as well as anyone can
And let love guide your will"
Music, poetry twiddles, and writing... three potent forms of magic,
and now, the energy and the time are right.
With slow, careful gestures, he starts to shape energy into a
sculpture, and soon it is done.
People look at it, and they see... Callahans.
Except they look over the bar, and they see that the grafitti on the
wall isn't quite ... right. It's too far away to read, but it's in
different patterns.
Looking again, they see people they've never seen before, including a
bearded Kzin, with ... with a *sprite* in his *beard*? Surely this
couldn't be the fearsome Speaker-to-Minerals people have spoken of!
They see a bunch of different people, some they recognize, and some
they don't.
"It's not prettier, is it?" John asks, and people have to agree...
some people might like it better, but you couldn't say it was
*prettier*.
"The people aren't better, are they?" John asks, and people have to
agree, again... there are good people, and less-good people, just like
there are everywhere you go, in both the 'real' bar, and in this
representation of it.
"You couldn't say there was anything *better* about this one, could
you?" he asks, and some people start to realize this is going.
"No... there's not a damn thing wrong with *this* one", he says,
indicating his model, "or *this* one", he says, indicating the rest of
the bar.
"But over the past months, I realized something. Only *one* of
these... only one of them was... *mine*.
"Only one of them had some... some *something* that made it the
alt.callahans that I loved.
"This isn't talking about how things were better in the good old
days... I doubt they were. But they were different... and they are
what I think of.
"This isn't saying that the people aren't wonderful... it's just that
they're not the same people I realized I think of when I think about
alt.callahans.
"This isn't saying I think this alt.callahans isn't a great, wonderful
place to be... it is. But it's not *my* alt.callahans, and I realize
if I stay, I'm going to keep running into that.
"If you believe there is no clam chowder but New England style, it
doesn't matter if you're eating the best Manhattan style clam chowder
on the planet, you're going to keep expecting a creamy, milk based
broth, not a taste of tomato-ey goodness. It's not that you'll think
you're eating *bad* soup... you'll just feel you're eating the *wrong*
soup.
John pauses, and suggests those unable to tolerate ugliness in
language blur past the spoiler space, and then blur past the next set
of spoiler space, not reading the information in between, as he's
about to put on a part of his personality that he keeps far from the
surface. Also, please note that the person described hopefully does
not exist, and doesn't refer to those who wonder, only those who
insist, with certainty, and... well, never mind. Read it if you want,
but you won't miss anything too important if you don't.
(snip some suggesting that I will be *most* put out if someone suggests that I'm leaving based upon a recent flame war.)
"Anyway... this has been building up for, god, probably over a year. I
won't lie and say that the events of the past few days didn't
crystallize the decision, but nothing could have made the decision
happen if it wasn't already past time - and I do mean *PAST* time, as
in, I could (and maybe should) have made this decision months ago.
"I thought about waiting a few days, just so no one would have to do
so much as contemplate this question, but I started writing some of
the stuff in this post, and I realized I was crying as I wrote
"Roadrunner", and I knew *why*. Because it really *was* time to say
goodbye, for now, and quite likely, forever, to the place... though I
hope not to lose touch with many of the people.
"But I realized that I wouldn't be so well able to create my
'farewell' gift, if it wasn't time to wish that you folks, and the
place itself, all fare well without me.
"Now, I could say that I hate long goodbyes, but I think I'd have
proven I wasn't being entirely accurate if I said that, so instead,
I'll say I hate to over-prolong a goodbye, and..."
And as he speaks the last word, he vanishes.
Okay, I suppose it could still be of interest without that... but you might not understand anything about it.
The long and the short of it is, a flame war started. And, it's *nothing* that I couldn't handle, and haven't handled, god, a dozen times before *at least*.
But it made me realize that certain things have changed over the years. Both the place, and me. And, it made me realize it was time to say good-bye.
If anyone wants to see how Callahans favorite (only... which is the only reason I claim 'favorite') Crazyman says goodbye, it's after the cut tag. Anyone else can skip it.
John walks in, figuring it's long past time for a bit of magic work.
He's dressed in proper clothing... at least, he figures he is. A
tee-shirt, and a pair of casual 'no belt' pants. The 'no belt part
seems a mistake, until he stops, smiles, and digs into his pants
pocket, and pulls out a handful of change, that he drops with his
other belongings. He keeps forgetting to *do* something with that
change....
He closes his eyes, and draws in focus, then slowly gestures, and a
space clears, and is set off with proper soundproofing. There's a
small area that would be a stage if there was a performance to be
given, and comfortable seating.
He then sets the four points of the compass, asking for the help and
wisdom of spirits of air, fire, water, and earth... asking also of the
north, the help of his spirit guide, the great northern bear.
Then, suddenly struck by a thought, he opens an area in the
soundproofing (which is mere VR, and by no means 'magical'), and
manually sets out more chairs outside of the main circle.
Some people might feel forbidden to partake of magic even
peripherally, by sitting in the circle with him. These people will be
able to see, and hear, all that those in the circle would.
Then, he opens a door in the circle with his athame, and ushers in any
who wish to join them. They will have no work to do, but if they wish
to add energy to the proceedings, they may.
From those, he asks some to move closer. These people are those who
can accept that magical working can only be done, in perfect love, and
perfect trust... any for whom this mutual love and trust exist, are
welcome. The rest are not excluded, but are simply asked not to give
their energy to a very personal working of magic.
"Magic takes on many forms," he says, once everyone who wishes to be
is in position. "The most important rule to magic to consider here is
that what matters, matters... why it matters is irrelevant."
There is some haziness; Does John suddenly know how to play the
guitar? Or is it merely one of his friends who knows how to play, who
is willing to help? But some sweet guitar chords start, and John, in
opposition to the norm of reality, is blessed with temporarily perfect
singing ability.
(Beat Up Guitar, by The Hooters, off of the Zig Zag album)
"You lived on Vine street, I lived at home.
The music was all that we had of our own.
No satisfaction, no gas in my car,
but we had the keys to the world, in my beat up guitar.
With that beat up guitar, you and I will ride away,
from the town that rocked the nation, Philadelphia P.A.
Kensington station, we sat on the track
I wrote you a song, though I knew it was flat
You laughed when they told me, you won't get too far,
if you spend the rest of your life with that beat up guitar...
With that beat up guitar, you and I will ride away
From the town that rocked the nation, Philadelphia P.A.
(Overlay)
A second John appears, while the first keeps singing.
"It's always been one of my favorite songs, really... and not just
because of the fact that I was born and raised in Philadelphia. Just
the notion of following your dreams, even when they're not the most
realistic dreams in the world, knowing you'll have to set off from
your familiar home. And... well, one of the last lines always chokes
me up a bit, too.
(The second John fades, leaving the singing John clearly seen and
heard)
"With that beat up guitar, you and I will ride away
From that town that rocked the nation, Philadelphia P.A.
And with that beat up guitar, we're coming home again someday
To that town that rocked the nation, Philadelphia P.A."
The song continues a bit further, of course, and John takes a sip of a
glass of diet Sierra Mist that someone has thoughtfully provided.
"This one is one of my favorites, because I always wish the words were
a little bit different; there are days it could be my theme song if it
were... well, if it weren't the same song."
He smiles at the incongruity of that thought; that a song could be a
great song if it wasn't the same song anymore, and then the music
starts again.
(Behind Blue Eyes - The Who)
"No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
"No one knows what it's like
to be hated
to be fated
to telling only lies"
(Overlay)
The other John is back. "I'm certainly not fated to telling only lies,
for example. But there are many times I understand the feeling that no
one knows what it's like be be who you are... that no one sees inside,
and no one will.
The song doesn't continue in the same tone, though... it becomes
defiant, with a man saying things you could picture screaming back at
the universe, no matter what is thrown at him. A man who might feel
lost, but is not now, and never will be, ready to give up. It's only
for a wrap up that the song returns to it's sadder sound..."
(And the audience can hear that...
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man...
Behind blue eyes."
The overlay John smiles, and says "I have to give the commentary on
this one first. I've gained a fascination with rap over the years, the
notion of minimalist music, and one of the forms of music that is
purely, 100% US home grown.
"That doesn't mean I always like the subject matter, and one in
particular always bothered me. "Cop Killer", by Ice T.
Then I finally heard it. Now, I don't know if I'm naive or not, but
sometimes our illusions are worth holding, unless and until the truth
is available, and I like to pretend that Ice T never wanted anyone to
kill any cops. I think he wanted them to sing that song, and piss off
a few of the bad cops, and get people to realize you should be *good*
and *ANGRY* at police brutality.
However, I think I have a more... socially acceptable way of singing
that song right now.
I better warn you, there's still a lot of violence in this one... you
might want to put the kids to bed.
So, with a nod to Ice T, we'll just pretend I have his backup band,
and, through a lovely piece of magic..."
And a hot, fast, heavy metal band starts playing in the background.
John's now wearing a hat backwards on his head, but it's not a
baseball cap... it's a naval officer's hat! Just to continue to ruin
the image, he's wearing what appears to be a leather tuxedo coat, with
the arms ripped off, and his pants seem just a tad bit baggier than
before.
The first words of the song ("COP KILLER!" in Ice T's version) are
muffled, perhaps to avoid spoiling the surprise...
(TTTO: Cop Killer, by Ice-T)
He's got his jet skates on
he's got his stick-um on
he's got his knee pads on
Wile E is going long
He's got his birdseed laid out
And a fake tunnel blacked out
He wants me to come out
Next round of our big bout!
I'm a ROADRUNNER, better him than me
Roadrunner, watch out coyote!
Roadrunner, I know you're gonna be grievin',
Roadrunner, but I'm gonna keep speeding!
A package from Acme
Just tryin' to crack me
a jet speeded sled
and that bozo ain't dead!
Now it's time to start running
cause he's gonna start gunning
his plan's really stunning
wish he'd stick to just punning!
ROADRUNNER, better him than me...
Roadrunner, watch out coyote!
Roadrunner, I know you're gonna be grievin',
Roadrunner, but I'm gonna keep speeding!
(At this point, Ice-T's song is mostly instrumental with (ahem)
repetitive lyrics suggesting the police be fornicated or adultered as
appropriate, so we'll just play it out as an instrumental....)
John smiles, now, there's only one of him, and the instruments are
gone, for the moment.
He's speaking slightly rhythmically, as you might imagine people might
in a ritual story telling.
"Today, while running, I had a vision of the deer brought down by the
wolves. I don't know if the wolves hunt dear, nor if they do so in a
pack or not. And, I do not know if animals can speak, even spirit to
spirit, so I can not claim this vision was true. But I can tell you
what I saw.
An old buck was brought down, because he was old, and tired, and weak.
And the top wolf said to him "Now, another deer will live; go now, to
the summerlands, knowing your death had purpose."
A doe was brought down, because she'd lured the wolves from her fawn.
And the top wolf said to her "Well done! We could not feast on a
smaller animal when we had our chance at you! Go now, to the
summerlands, knowing that your death had purpose."
And another deer was brought down, neither old, nor protecting
another, but simply because deer are hunted by wolves in this vision
of mine, and it is the way of the world for the hunters to hunt the
prey, when they need to eat.
And they said "We will eat you, but another deer is spared, to grow
stronger and faster; maybe this winter, one of us will starve, because
the only deer who remain are too fast for us. Go now, to the
summerlands, knowing that even this death had purpose."
John smiles sadly, realizing that this spell is reaching its climax.
Gathering his energies, people see he is building... something. He
realizes the time for showing what he's building has not come, yet.
So he chants...
"Every pain can matter
As does every sparrow's fall
So go and live your feelings
always listen for their call.
Every laugh can matter
and bring some joy to all
so open up to happiness
and shout it down the hall.
Every love does matter
And makes us stronger still
So love as well as anyone can
And let love guide your will"
Music, poetry twiddles, and writing... three potent forms of magic,
and now, the energy and the time are right.
With slow, careful gestures, he starts to shape energy into a
sculpture, and soon it is done.
People look at it, and they see... Callahans.
Except they look over the bar, and they see that the grafitti on the
wall isn't quite ... right. It's too far away to read, but it's in
different patterns.
Looking again, they see people they've never seen before, including a
bearded Kzin, with ... with a *sprite* in his *beard*? Surely this
couldn't be the fearsome Speaker-to-Minerals people have spoken of!
They see a bunch of different people, some they recognize, and some
they don't.
"It's not prettier, is it?" John asks, and people have to agree...
some people might like it better, but you couldn't say it was
*prettier*.
"The people aren't better, are they?" John asks, and people have to
agree, again... there are good people, and less-good people, just like
there are everywhere you go, in both the 'real' bar, and in this
representation of it.
"You couldn't say there was anything *better* about this one, could
you?" he asks, and some people start to realize this is going.
"No... there's not a damn thing wrong with *this* one", he says,
indicating his model, "or *this* one", he says, indicating the rest of
the bar.
"But over the past months, I realized something. Only *one* of
these... only one of them was... *mine*.
"Only one of them had some... some *something* that made it the
alt.callahans that I loved.
"This isn't talking about how things were better in the good old
days... I doubt they were. But they were different... and they are
what I think of.
"This isn't saying that the people aren't wonderful... it's just that
they're not the same people I realized I think of when I think about
alt.callahans.
"This isn't saying I think this alt.callahans isn't a great, wonderful
place to be... it is. But it's not *my* alt.callahans, and I realize
if I stay, I'm going to keep running into that.
"If you believe there is no clam chowder but New England style, it
doesn't matter if you're eating the best Manhattan style clam chowder
on the planet, you're going to keep expecting a creamy, milk based
broth, not a taste of tomato-ey goodness. It's not that you'll think
you're eating *bad* soup... you'll just feel you're eating the *wrong*
soup.
John pauses, and suggests those unable to tolerate ugliness in
language blur past the spoiler space, and then blur past the next set
of spoiler space, not reading the information in between, as he's
about to put on a part of his personality that he keeps far from the
surface. Also, please note that the person described hopefully does
not exist, and doesn't refer to those who wonder, only those who
insist, with certainty, and... well, never mind. Read it if you want,
but you won't miss anything too important if you don't.
(snip some suggesting that I will be *most* put out if someone suggests that I'm leaving based upon a recent flame war.)
"Anyway... this has been building up for, god, probably over a year. I
won't lie and say that the events of the past few days didn't
crystallize the decision, but nothing could have made the decision
happen if it wasn't already past time - and I do mean *PAST* time, as
in, I could (and maybe should) have made this decision months ago.
"I thought about waiting a few days, just so no one would have to do
so much as contemplate this question, but I started writing some of
the stuff in this post, and I realized I was crying as I wrote
"Roadrunner", and I knew *why*. Because it really *was* time to say
goodbye, for now, and quite likely, forever, to the place... though I
hope not to lose touch with many of the people.
"But I realized that I wouldn't be so well able to create my
'farewell' gift, if it wasn't time to wish that you folks, and the
place itself, all fare well without me.
"Now, I could say that I hate long goodbyes, but I think I'd have
proven I wasn't being entirely accurate if I said that, so instead,
I'll say I hate to over-prolong a goodbye, and..."
And as he speaks the last word, he vanishes.
