AHS Hotel Episode Three


I cant tell upon whom Evan Peters (Tate from season one, lobster Boy from last year) is basing his character.    One could assume Leo DiCaprio doing Clark Gable doing Clifton with Larry Mathers as “The Beaver”.    But this character, Mr March loved to kill and built his wondrous Hotel Cortez to be a bright shiny murderous paragon of evil.

“How do you know so much about me?”

“I Goggled you”

“That sounds gruesome.”

Secret rooms, hallways, torture chambers ( even an acid pit—–ooooh, how Vincent Price).    He’s a ghost now and his spirit is all riled up at the notion that his fabulous hotel might be sold and worse, remodeled.    So, the Countess’ new Boy Toy, who’s now a vampire who can kill with impugnity is in cahoots with Mr. Ward who wants to restore the Cortez to the killing capital it once was.

And then……Naomi Campbell gets killed by the human mattress pad, and Kathy Bates tells us the harried story of the strange vegetarian cult  lives of mother, Iris and son, Donovan and then……and then…..and then…I fell asleep.   Tried to stay awake.  Just couldn’t.

So, can someone help me out with a  perspective and narrative that I missed??

Got any spare dialog for an old alta boy, fadduh?      I’m a Cat’lic.


AHS: Season Five, Episode One & Two


At the beginning of every season of American Horror Story, I pray to St. Cecile of B. de Mille that each episode will make sense and offer logical and proportioned story telling.   And for the previous four seasons, I’ve been sorely disappointed.   The show never fails to fail me, but like my inability to watch a young Hollywood starlet spiral out of viral control. I can’t help but watch the descent.     I’ll watch season numero five if for nothing else, to keep a running tally of every production rule broken before the first commercial break.

The Hotel Cortez is lavishly decorated; Art Decor splendor with a cast of characters that are all delightfully broken souls.     Failures, addicts, fringe types— Denis O’Hare portrays bellhop/bartender with a fetish for Liz Taylor (the caftan years).

Th production is equally lush with Kubrickian camera glides down hallways and use of special fish eye lenses on cameras the elevate in height—the kind that makes TV fangoria even more…well, goriia.

Sex, drugs  sex, ambitious career dreams doused with lighter fluid, sex, homosexuality, murder, mayhem, rape eith pointy conical spheres, gratuitous ass shots, sex, vampires, a ghost or two, kidnapping, ornate dildos and violence all displayed before you imagelike a horror buffet.  Kathy Bates plays Iris, the stern, never smiling hotel manager.   She fights with residents and guests and she works at the hotel to keep tabs on her wayward son who happens to be an addict, a boy toy and a vampire.   Fortunately, son Donovan didn’t seem to inherit his mother’s vision.  Those glasses???    She can kill dreams AND ants from 60 feet away.

I must confess–my first look at her prompted me to think of the result of a genetic commingling of Brett  Sommers (the  Mrs. Jack Klugman) of Match Game game fame and of the late Hollywood super agent And Odcars after party host extraordinaire, Mr Swifty Lazar.image

Sarah Paulsen returns for her fifth consecutive season. She plays Hypodermic Sally, a drug addict with a hairstyle that looks a lot like the unconditioned bob I sported back


in ’84.  She “lives” at the hotel and has a tempestuous relationship of some kind with Iris.   Apparently, they’ve loathed each other for the past 20 years.    Nancy is a drug addict that lured her teenage son Donovan into the Hotel Cortez for a vein full of China White. He must have been an at risk kid, because Iris had been spying on them from her car.   Iris bribes Liz Taylor, looking lovely in fuchsia, and he tells her the room the two junkies are in.   Iris goes upstairs, enters the room; the son is out cold, Nancy is loaded but coherent.    The two women exchange words.   Nancy flounces out of the room, into one of the hotel’s six hundred looming hallways, then finds an open window.   Iris pushes her out, she falls several floors, we assume to her death.

This event happened in a flashback from 1994,     Two commercials later, Nancy is back In the present day, looking haggard and all Nancy Spungeon-esque, but still part of the story line, we assume, as a ghost.  Fast forward to present day and iris and Nancy are still at the hotel, mainly because Nancy might be a ghost.

There’s a police detective, a Jon something or other, who plays his part a lot like Kyle MacLochlan portrayed FBI Agent Dale Cooper in Twin Peaks.    He’s investigating s number of murders that involve rape with conical-shaped metal dildo strap-ons.    He’s crank called by the murderer who lures him to a house, which I swear is the iconic Frank Lloyd Wright Hollywood home of the doctor who’s been linked to the vicious murder of the Black Dahlia in the Forties.    He find  two men brutally murdered and in suspended cages.     But just after that, we learn i the flash back contained in a flash forward that his son had been kidnapped from a carousel on an amusement park on the beach.   This happens when he turns his back for one minute.   And as familial trauma is want to do, this creates a problem with his pediatrician wife( Chloe Zevigny)

Lady Gaga stars as the countess and own of the hotel.   Her acting consists of some dialogue, but mostly crafted profile shots and pouts I perfect keylighting, but she’s a singer first.    She’s a vampire, apparently over s hundred years old and she needs the blood of children to keep,her looking good in a meat suit.   But fear not, not one member of the four basic food groups was harmed in the costuming of her character.   She wears rather fabulous closes, incredible gowns with trains, Bedazzled elbow length gloves with their own special scalpel sharp nail on the index finger.   She has four Hitler youth looking children, who stay in a special game room behind s secret door….that is when they’re not stealing a scene from The Shining, appearing at the end of the hall, then sprinting  off Hussein Bolt down one of the hotels 347 hallways.

Behind this secret door, the kids sit quietly while attached to machines that collect or purify blood (or both) while playing an ancient version of Mine Sweep.   After only two episodes, we’ve learned that one of the kids is the cop’s kidnapped son.   I guess they feed on the blood of addict murder victims (and those are a dime a dozen in this hotel), th blood is then removed of additives and Gaga and Donovan (Iris’ son).

But the CoUntess  wants to sell the hotel to an ascot wearing clothing designer from the East Coast. He’s flamboyant yet has a son with enough of an Asian gene pool to make him looked like a perfectally coiffed Sanjaya from American Idol, 2007.

This is the best pic of young Lachlan Drake I could find.

image image

There’s a heaviness to this season; more so than Asylum (Season 3).    It’s darker, more morose.   The hotel s clean as a whistle, dark in the places it should be.   Just enough ambient lighting to create shadows. I get the sense that love is a culprit this season—-and so is vanity.   People have killed maniacally for both.  And in a hotel where police tape is considered devor, we’re talking about victims, ripe for the picking.    And they pay for their sins in painfully gory ways.

More familiar actors from years past will return over the next several weeks.

Oh yeah, I almost  forgot—Hume Cronyn is back.   Well, Hume C. The actual,noted actor jettisoned this mortal coil several  years ago, but the same actor who played the crazed reanimated Montgomery baby that often lived in the basement of Murder House I. AHS’s first season one of many ghosts of ha returned as some sort of creature that spears in walls and can often be found in s crudely stitched mattress.

See what I mean?

image image

The first episode of Season 5 left  me yawning.    The second episode was better, or rather good enough for to commit to watching a third episode.    One motivation for doing so, is seeing Finn Whitrock.  He played th the murdeereous inbred psychopathic Dandy last year.    in Season 5, he’s a bad boy model really into snorting “Columbian  Marching Powder”. He walks out in the middle of a fashion show and falls under The Countess’ spell.   One romp in the  sack and he too is a vampire, but not only that, he’s replaced Donovan as her boy toy.

Here a scene of the pair in a post coital make up application session.


And here’s Gaga in one of her basic housdresses. Lovely.   Now, I don’t know if this crock proves shoulder pads are coming back…………OR…………

She oddly wears Maxi Pads on her shoulders.

Either way, I hope the look comes back.   I’ll be back for episode tres.

American Horror Story: Season 5


If it’s fall, it must be AHS season.     Yay.

The strange series that offers a different plot each season, begins tonight on FX ( check you local listings)

The 2015 offering sounds interesting.   It’ll  focus on all the strange goings on at a LA-based hotel with a dubious reputation.   In this case, it’s The Hotel Cecil, a real run down flea bag type of in , which was the scene of numerous suicides, robberies, rapes  and weird happenings, including the strange story of a young Canadian woman who was staying there and went missing,    This happened after a security camera captured acting very strangely inside an elevator. .   She punched all the floor buttons, poke her head out the elevator doors, hiding in the corner….perhaps even engaging in a conversation with someone out of camera sight.

The young woman went missing after that.

Then a week  later,  hotel guests started to complain that the water smelled AND tasted funny.    Maintenance workers checked out the water tanks on the roof and that’s where they found the nude, decomposing body of the young woman floating in the water.  I mean, can you imagine?????   Gag.    Wretch.    I’d rather drink a gallon of dirty denture soaking water.

Heave.   Yuk..

And not only that, convicted killer, Richard Ramirez, the so-called Night Stalker, stayed at the Cecil during his murderous reign of terror in Southern California, and so did another killer…a German psychopath whose name escapes me.

So, naturally the hotel is haunted..  Of course.

No Jessica Lange thus season, but Lady Gaga (see photo above) takes a break from wearing the four basic food groups and tries her hand at acting.    She’ll portray as the hotel’s fashion forward owner,  Sarah Pauley returns to season five as a drug addict, plays a Kathy Bates id back as is the fabulous Angela Bassett.  Look for a number of familiar faces who’ll be reprising characters of creepy, broken souls in one form or another.

iI’ll share my irreverent reviews of each episode after it airs, so join me, won’t you, as I try to find logic and proportion in crazed, but entertains nonsense.

God Texted


God:   Hello Laurie. You there? Texting is cool.

LK:    Well….well….well.     Greetings Hosannah In The Highest!

God:    The notorious G-O-D. I thought I’d try this texting stuff. It’s so instant us!

LK:   More so than talking on w phone?

God:  You guys to read more.   It’s all good.

LK:   How different the everything would have been had the technology existed back in the day.

God:   You guys were in your infancy back then. I had to introduce things to you in baby steps. Most of the early flock were Empiricists. These guys didn’t believe anything unless it could be felt, smelled, tasted, seen or heard. I had to be very creative back in the day.

LK:   And these days we take it all for granted.  We have banking, communication—everything In a cloud. And instantly accessible.

God:    You think Apple is a big deal? There was such mishegas with Guttenberg and the printing press!! What a commotion!!!    But it was good. I needed the world to be better connected…you know…closer. That Tower of Babel explanation only made things worse. It destroyed more bridges than it made.

LK:   Then why didn’t you just stick with Esperanto when you you had the chance?

God:    Water is great, right? But if you have access to eight different tasty kool-aid favors, well, how groovy is that?

LK:    Variety, huh?

God:    Anybody can learn a second, even a third language. Then there are emotions–those are universal. Love feels the same in if you speak Swedish or Urdu. Hate can be expressed in Mandarin as easily as it can be in German—Bavarian accent, thank you. And English is really kind of the new global speak. For a while I thought it should be Hebrew, but it’s a bit too glottal.

LK:    That would’ve infuriated the Islamic states. Can you imagine anyone there joining “the talibansky??????”

God:     Lead by Osama bin Ladenovitz???? Wasn’t in the cards.

LK:     What’s in the cards, then? Share, please.

God:     That’s up to you.

LK::     I hate it when our exchanges turn vague.

God:     They’re only vague to you and always only in the very beginning. The last word you type or utter in our conversations always come from a more enlightened person.

LK:    Knowledge is power.

God:     And faith is sustaining.

LK:     But more difficult in terms of adherence.

God:    For some, not for all. Faith is there for all who need it; those who seek it. It’s good to believe in something.  Even if it comes in the form of disbelieving.   That’s a commitment too.   It’s like what we were talking about earlier.

LK:     You mean the Internet? The ether? A cloud?

God:   Yes, and the big, white, gassy ones in the sky are no picnic to explain either.

LK:   I have faith, but it’s hard to describe.

God:    You’ve just described faith.

LK:     Interesting. Tell me please, do you know how it all goes? How it all ends?

God:    I know when it begins and I know when it ends.

LK:    And the middle part?

God:    That’s up to you. Look sweetie, life is like a sandwich. I give you two slices of bread—one is for birth, the other is for death. You decide what to put in between the slices, Ham, egg salad, a little roast beef, turkey or whatever.

LK:   You admit you know when it ends, but do you know how it ends?

God:   Simply put, it’s like this. Do I know when? Yes. How? No.

LK:    How can you not know how?

God:    I’ll let you in on a little secret. The keyword here is mystery. I can’t possibly explain everything. Only a few people can handle the reality–Steven Hawking and Nancy Pelosi to name a few.

LK:    Pelosi always sounded like an Italian verb.

God:    Yeah and who knew Nancy would become such an adjective!

LK:    I’ve known a few Nancy boys.

God:     As have I. You know, I’m perfectly okay with them getting married. I created them for a reason.

LK:    Which is???

God:   So everyone would have the chance to find love if they so choose. Your relatives 170 times removed poo-pood the concept of homosexuality. But that was when the world needed populating. I needed humans to procreate, but I needed them to love more.    So I let nature take its course.  People should love who they love. I never meant for the issue to be as divisive as it has.

LK;     How did you…YOU NOT see that coming??

God:   Maybe, I looked the other way. Maybe, I decided to give you guys the option of accepting things or denying things.

LK: Free will, again?

God : Again, free will.

LK:   That’s something you know I have trouble with.

God. Calvinism still keeping you up at night?

LK:  Well yeah frankly. Why does someone’s free will impinge on another persons free will? For example, a child is innocently playing in the front yard and some pedophile drives by, sees his opportunity, snatches the kid and a four year old’s battered body is found in a semi dry creek bed three days later.

God: You just answered your own question, doll.   Opportunity and outcome.

LK:  But we’re talking about an innocent child with just four years of life under his belt? He doesn’t know morality or what’s good or what’s evil.

God:   Maybe this ignorance can be a gift. That was his life. That’s all he got for this go round.

LK:   What do you mean?

God:    Here ‘s that Pesky Calvinism again. Pre-determination, but even that’s over simplifying it. Let’s say everyone has an alpha and an omega. A beginning and end.  .Don’t forget the sandwich metaphor.

LK:    How does that play into the reality that a toddler was abducted and found murdered?

God:   Again, it’s not that easy. But look at it this way: The child was going to die, It just so happened that he played outside on that particular day.    The murderous pedophile chose to turn down the street where the kid lived. Sometimes lives intersect. Sometimes only one comes out alive.

LK:    But to die in such a horrific way?

God:    Death is the destination, dying is the process. It gives me no pleasure watching a baby die en utero, There’s no joy in watching a platoon taken out by an IED. Its painful watching a jihadist wearing a suicide vest killing himself and everyone else in an open air market in Tel Aviv. It pains me to see a bomb landing in a playground,

LK:   Then why do we need to die at all? Why kill a baby before its born?

God:    Envy life has a purpose.  But the purpose has to be finite.   For the time the baby had, her impending arrival gave great joy to a mother and a father, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins.

LK   And great pain when it was miscarried.

God:   Yes, but perhaps it wasn’t meant to live.

LK:   Then why couldn’t you intercede?

God;    Who’s to say I didn’t? The one thing you mortals that makes me crazy is attribute perfection to me. Heck, I invented mistakes. Some rapper once warbled, “ain’t nuthin’ perfect”. Preach on, my son because that’s the truth. Humans are created with a divine recipe. I’m talking about a billion spontaneous combustions of cells amid myosis and myotis and other fancy Greek based words with ‘osis’ as a suffix. That means the odds are pretty good something might go wrong. And sometimes it does. I start the car; Nature is the engine. As for your fetus question, some baby’s aren’t sustainable outside the womb.

LK:  I understand attrition and culling of the herd and all…

God:   Don’t put it like that!!!

LK.   Then explain why some disabled kids make it through the gauntlet.

God:   Because they have a purpose, too. Primarily, they bring joy to the lives around them. They make people in their spheres, willing to be compassionate and tolerant, more compassionate and tolerant. In essence, better rounded as people.

(Texting ceases briefly)

God:   Uh…you there? I sense you’re making that confused face, right?

LK   I’m here.

God:   What everyone must understand is that you spend your life as both teacher and student. Life is a gift and each life regardless of where or how it’s lived is a process in which a lesson must be learned and must be taught as well.

LK:   Like famine?

God:   It gives cause to celebrate times of plenty and stock up, when there are periods when food is scarce.

LK:   Like war?

God:    Peace can’t exist without war. We wouldn’t know sweet without bitterness. If love exists, hate has to exist…or worse, apathy.

LK:    Explain apathy then.

God:   Switzerland.

LK:   I love that you’re funny.

God:   I communicate with you in ways relatable to you. If I’m funny, then you’re funny since the ancient texts say you’re made in my image.

LK:  But I don’t have a big white beard and wear long flowing robes.

God:   Neither do I. That was Chuck Heston and someone’s idea of me in the make up and costume department on the set of a Cecile B. DeMille movie.

LK:  bDo you like food, too?

God:   My child, happiness is a twelve inch high pastrami on rye. Heaven to me looks a lot like the old Stages deli.

LK:   What’s hell like then?

God:   No decent deli to be found within a hundred mile radius.

LK:     Good one, G-dog.

God:   Hate to end this delightful texting session, but I must. Your Me-given opposable thumbs must be hurting by now and I have a massive prayer list to deal with, some dating back to the Nixon administration.

LK:   What are those prayers about?

God:  You had Gerald Ford in office, right? Prime example of that old saying, “be careful what you pray for.”

LK: Good point. Then get busy, God. One last question?

God:  Shoot.

LK:  Does that mean you answer all the prayers you get?

God.  Of course. I texted you, didn’t I???

Obnoxious Debate Thoughts


Bobby Jindal is smart, probably a decent man, but his unfettered use of 30 weight as a hair care product is disconcerting.    He’s also a masala of uninteresting.

Lindsay Graham came out swinging, trying hard to be Joe Everyman.  He called ISIS members “bastards” and says there needs to be more “drinkin’ in the White House.   I’m not sure about his particular brand of politics, but that was THE BEST Jed Clampett impersonation EVER.

Was Pataki even there???


Anybody notice there was deafening silence after some main stage candidate introduced themselves?

Over the years, I can remember  hearing about some missing parts from Air Force One.    Well, looking at the stage at the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library, I think we now know where they ended up.

Rand Paul looks like the kid actor who played Jody from TVs “Family Affair”, circa 1968.

i’ve been watching Donald Trump’s face get progressively redder with each comment from others  on the dais.   His Ken doll-like hair is fascinating.  I’m thinking a tomato with cotton candy on it.   Call me psychic, but I could tell early on that this debate will go Trumps’s way.

Carly Fiorina is strong and stern.    Democrats would probably think she’s frigid, yet these are the things they love about Hillary.

Jeb Bush is very tall.   Thought he was wearing an earring at first.   I focused in and realized it was a little Sherpa clinging on to his earlobe for dear life.   His demanding that Trump apologize to his Mexcian born wife, fell flat.

Paul Walker?   Loved him as one of the original MTV VeeJays.

I like Ben Carson.  He rocked his pen stripe suit.   I bet his blood pressure is 60 over 80.   He is one cool, collected man.  He could reshape my neural pathways anytime.    Still, I don’t think he elevated his poll numbers.

Carly F. would be great in the role of Commander In Chief.    I’d love to see her debate Hillary.   She’s a very poised woman of substance.    Personally, I’d love to go to a dive with her, play pool in cheap shoes and do Tequila shots to the beginning letter in the names of world leader on the globe.

Trump, the insult comic candidate.   He seemed a bit impotent in the crossfire.    Plus, the insincerity in the “Carly is beautiful comment” was an F-5 blunder.    I saw this wall of ego bend a bit tonight.   But that’s me.  Trump’s fan base will never think him anything but a magnificent stud.

Little Marco Rubio.   Like him okay, but his milk mustache bothers me.   You know, I’m a complete political idiot, but I don’t think he’s ready yet, but I think he will be ready some day.   Some think he won the debate. No, not in my opinion.    Fiorina was like a Zamboni retopping a rink.

Carly Fiorina dropping more names than that plate spinning cat on The Sullivan Show.   She came to play.

Eleven candidates’ voices are too much.    These are what the voices in my head sound like.   All trying hard to snark their way to the top.   Some candidates can wear that style, mist can’t.    At least not without seeming utterly contrived.  The majority of debaters will be eliminated by noon tomorrow; Friday noon the latest.  Attrition will make the choice easier.   The lower rung candidates will  have no other option.  Follow Perry’s lead yo (flashes gang sign).

Huckabee was quiet.   As was The Donald, relatively speaking. I bet he’s working on a lline about Paul Walker’s uber squinty eyes.

Mike Huckabee.     Wasn’t he one of the ancient Jewish soldiers with the seemingly never-ending lamp oil that eventually came to known as Hanukkah?

Carly F. is sounding “presidential”.    I think she’ll rise in the poles.   Even with the Czechs.

Marco Rubio just hit one out of the park on the Spanish/English language debate.  He seems warm and heartfelt.

Jeb Bush smoked weed.    Surprise??      Hardly, any candidate mature enough to run for office, will have not smoked pot or at least, found their Mom’s prescription of Valium lying around.    No other candidates admitted to it their nefarious High School and college years.   Guess they didn’t inhale either.   So that means they must have swallowed.   As in, they got majorly tweaked eating pot brownies and  greenish cookies only Carlos Casteneda could love.

Candidates have been fairly well behaved.   All are very into emphasizing their lower to middle class status, Dad was a bartnder… was a housekeeper… father was a mill worker….my mom handled semaphore duty as A member of WAC back in ’44……Papa was a rolling stone.

Ok, so who won this second republican debate?  In my opinion, if anyone moves ahead in the poles it’ll be Carly Fiorina.    Again, she didn’t win this debate as much as she didn’t lose it.  Know what I mean.  No one stood out more than she did.   I’d say she wins the NL level debate.   As for the other not ready for prime time players—-Bush did okay, got some laughs.  Huckabee was a bit preachy in style.   Rand Paul is politically confused AND sporting a horrific application of blush.

Ted Cruz wasn’t a factor.

Christie had a few tough guy moments but I can’t remember any of them.

Kasich?  Which one is he????

In the farm league,  I’d say Lindsay Graham won with sheer hubris and volume.   He was practically in negative digits before the debate.    What did he have to lose??????

The Cecil

This downtown Los Angeles hotel has a storied past for all the wrong reasons.

Two infamous murderers stayed there during the height of their crime sprees.    Additionally, there have several suicides, three women jumped out of upper floor windows, not to mention room burglaries, hallway muggings and rapes.    Let me put it this way, the Cecil was an option when Motel Six was deemed too posh.

The hotel was recently remodeled in an attempt to clean up its act.    I think the name  has been changed as well.    But can a new sign, a fresh coat of paint and some new appointments from IKEA make a difference?

If you’re the writers and producers of one of TV’s newest cult shows, the weirder the  better.   Theyre using the hotel ias a backdrop for the fifth season of FX’s oddly addicting  American Horror Story.   The storyline this go round is called Hotel and based on strange events that have occurred at the Cecil over the years.    So, watch this video that’ll explain everything and including the bazaar Lisa Lim  case.    Besides, my thumb hurts.

Yeah, the Cecil of yesterday was a scary and strange  place.   Don’t know much about its recent facelift, but I know that back in the day, it had a  steady occupancy rate of seedy and transient guests.   Perhaps, people stayed there because of was the low-cost of lodging or perhaps they came for the lure of its dangerous reputation or risking your life by showering or drinking anything from the hotel’s water supply (the thought of that is absolutely repulsive)  To hell with possible ghosts and psychic crime scene imprints in every room, I doubt I could  stay there because of the water, even if the system has been replaced ( which I I’m sure it has) and then scrubbed down three times by Laotian spinsters awash in Clorox.


AHS has a repertory cast each season save for this one.   Leading actress Jessica Lange is taking this year off.   Evan Peters, Denis O’Hare and Sarah Paulson return for their fifth series.   Angela  Basset and Kathy Bates will be there for their third stints. You’ll also  see Chloë Savigny, Mare Winningham and  Matt Bomer, whose name sounds like that of second year NFL quarterback.

But wait….there’s more.   I’ve left at the name of the newest character.


See the long-haired blond?    It’s not creepy old Greg Allman.    it’s not Anne Coulter or Annie Lebowitz with make up.    It’s Lady Gaga, who appears as the  wealthy, elusive hotel owner.

Poke her face.


I’m trying to have hope for season five.    I’ve been disappointed since the first season and I’ve felt the series has been difficult for me to make invest in motionally.    But I’ll give it a go and endeavor to write one of my skewered reviews after the show airs every Wednesday night, starting in early October.

BUT……in the meantime, the same writers and producers are  premiering their new show, Scream Queens on FOX this coming Tuesday evening.   If that proves to be as campy and quirky as I hope it’ll be, then old Punksatawney Laurie will come out of her den of inequity will blog for six more weeks.

Finding Joy

I’ve returned to blogging recently.   I love my need to write but I hate my need to be read.  So, in trying to shake off the conflict, I’m reading more.   It’s an attempt to expand my mind as opposed to narcissistically dwelling in it.

Step away from the table of contents.

Today, my reading material consisted of the Holocaust and the  upcoming 14th anniversary of 9/11 (hard to believe).    To lighten the mood, I got caught up on the Bolshevik Revolution.  And now here I sit, sleepless and questioning so many of the things I once knew as certainties.

Question du jour:  is joy a spiritual reward?

Or is access to it innate and then once realized, must it be practiced regularly?   Or is it results oriented?   Do we earn joy like old school S&H Green Stamps or bonus points for knowing the proper way to pronounce Ibiza in Catalan?? How closely is it related to faith?    Does an atheist experience the same kind of joy as a Levite Jew?    As a war-weary Syrian hell bent on seeing her homeland from an infrequent over the shoulder glance?       As a one one percenter in America?  As an ambidextrous Portuguese butcher who’s also a vegetarian AND a Scorpio????   Can a scholar sense joy as someone unschooled, lay people as opposed to a proverbial keeper to the flock???

i can’t help but feel that joy is as ironic as it is elusive.  For some people, anyway.  It’s a conscious effort that has to be based on life experience.   Can you exist in a death camp simply for being Jewish while still being as devout as you were before imprisonment?     Can Mass be celebrated on a battle field?

Life experience must play a part, right?   It has to be.   I don’t know what it’s like to drink Cristal on my own Lear jet, heading to exotic ports of call.   I don’t know what it’s like to be a teenager in Peshawar.    I don’t know how it feels to be an Israeli who must make daily trips to a bomb shelter, a Katrina surviver, a gay firefighter in Poughkeepsie, a male model, a Vietnam vet or a red-head for that matter.

I think joy is a conscious effort, that try as you might, can’t be a constant factor.  Perhaps one cam claim to experience joy most of the time, la the Duggarrs, formerly on TLC, currently on every tabloid in every check out aisle.   Can joy run on a continuous loop?


Joy, I reckon, must have an opposing force, you know, like a certain duality such as sweet and salty, hot and cold.  It must be an emotion of extremes.   Otherwise we wouldn’t be able to recognize it as what it is (joy) or what it isn’t (sorrow).   Okay, fine but Is there a middle ground?  Can you be content but not necessarily joyful per se?   Is love a product of joy or a necessary component needed to experience it?  Are love and joy one in the same?

Do I attempt to answer my own questions by asking them?    A question is safer than a declarative, is it not?

Wow.   You do not want to have an existential crisis on a balmy Saturday morning when Mopheus ignores you and you have 600 TV channels, 579 of which pay their bills with early hour infomercials on over priced hair care products or something called “a giant ladder system”.

I’d rather watch a test pattern.

Oh joy.