Without Darkness There Can Be No Light

So, I am in a mood to rant and I wanted to bring up some classics, so, why don’t y’all grab a nice warm cup of coffee, or tea, or an iced whatever, and listen to the Bear get some of the poison out of himself so maybe, one day, he will be able to say all of it is gone and he is as normal as people who don’t carry resentment and gate with them like treasured possessions.

Plus, no names, y’all know who these people are, so why give them power by putting their names in things so they can go ahead and play the victim?

I suppose we have to talk about the one whose name actually came up like the gorge from a dying sycophantic whore this morning. She stole thousands of dollars, hundreds of hours of our time, and she even had the audacity to claim that I was taking her away from my children. Well. I mean, yes, when I tell you to GTFO, that is generally what I want you to do is to get away from me and mine.

Every time I saw you it towards the end I was always curious how your hand would end up in my wallet that day. I was with you for some of the things you needed money for, so I know that some of them were actually legitimate things. I di understand that. I have been rat fuck poor for the majority of my life, which is why I never hesitated, even when I KNEW you were lying to my face, to all of us, just to feed some ego trip you decided to go on to see how much you could get from the guy with the shattered heart and broken soul.

Thank You, Drive Thru, Next.

I could rant about you all the rest of my days and never get to the root of it all. I will talk about broken promises today though. How you swore you would never get back on it, over and over and over again. How you said you were done and it was a one-time thing. How you told me you would NEVER drive like that with him in the car. I mean I guess the big one was until Death Do Us Part, right? I mean, did you go a week before Wayne? yeah, yeah I know about Wayne at the Canal in the Buick. Which, by the way, sounds like such a banal and stereotypical fucking “she cheated on me story” as to be laughable. He told me by the way, a few days later. He told me and he was actually upset. I won’t speak ill of Wayne though, that man had a nightmare for a life and all you did was push him a little farther towards the end you and I both know he had. However, in the end, maybe he got the justice he deserved when you died and even now are sitting in a lake of your own filth somewhere begging everyone and anyone for everything and anything.

Pretty Sure That’s Enough, Isn’t It Darlin?

I have tried man. Almost forty damn years I have tried. I tried to be a Friend. I tried to be Brother. I tried to be the Dad. I tried to let you do all the things, I tried tough love, I tried a combination and I even went ahead and tried, well, where we are now. I was so happy when you met Kris and all of them, still am actually. This isn’t blood and water shit, no. No, I gave up on that old axiom years ago, we all did. You found your Family, I found my Tribe, the other one, well, misery is its own company.

I don’t wish you harm, illness, failure, or pain. Quite the opposite of all of them in fact. However, what I can promise you is that I will not do it all over again when it gets too hard for you and you need to quit. You still hate me for the decision I made when Thundercunt was here, and maybe I was wrong, but you need to pretend to understand that no matter my fault in it, you were wrong. You don’t treat a human-like that, never mind someone that the both of us, stupidly I’ll admit, loved. Like meat, like a…thing. I can’t ever let that go, not after what we grew up in, not after the nights when we would listen to the other scream, then you turn and you try to do that? In MY House?

No. Done.

Since I did the baby, I suppose it would scandalous of me not to talk about you now, wouldn’t it? The forced matriarchal figure of the wee little clan that we have now. All of them dead, all of the best parts of the name destroyed before we were even thoughts in drunken people’s minds. You have to go back to Ireland to find any one of them that is worthy of a wooden nickel. They at least knew how to love their children. I don’t blame what you have become completely on you however, no, this is definitely a case of nurture over nature. I remember you when you were sweet and kind. Remember when you were at Columbus and you were in that play and you were the storyteller? That is the best incarnation of you that I can bring to my heart.

That was during some of the worst of it, but you don’t believe that any of it did, and for that, I can never forgive you. I can not simply accept that you will deny my pain and her crimes simply because they are icky things that you are uncomfortable thinking about. I have wronged you, Goddess knows I have, but I have never taken your pain and simply tried to make it disappear, never.

I can’t anymore. I won’t.

Well, now I think it is my turn. Do you know the person writing this? Oh, I hate myself a thousand times more than I will ever hate any of these people. I hate that I was the teenager I was, I hate that it took me so long to talk about what my mother did, I hate that I fought with my wife and didn’t enjoy EVERY second with her. I hate that I am not a good father, I hate that I can be a shitty friend. I hate that I constantly need the affirmations of others to make myself seem less like the fucking loon I know I am.

I hate how I hurt you when you needed me most Bear. I walked away from you and instead of talking and doing, I did drugs, married a whore thrice over and destroyed the lives of others so I could not, would not, feel the soul-crushing agony of just being me.

Now, this is isn’t a suicide note, I will end with a bit of optimism.

I try.

Yes, yes I fail more often than I don’t, but some days I even manage two steps forward and one back so there is actual progress and not just me punching the same wall in Sisyphean idiocy until I am bloody and broken, vacillating between moods like a strobe light between on and off.

My Tribe holds me together, pushes me when I need it, screams at me when I need it, kicks me in the ass when I need it and I can never love them enough for all the things they have done, do still, and will most likely do in the near and far future.

See, happy endings.

Now, take a deep breath and, like me, cast all of this from your mind and remember that it is all just a day by day adventure.

Wear your masks, wash your hands, love one another, and, always, until next time, I bid you peace.

Wander Aimless If You Must You Fuck, Stay Far Away From Me and Mine Or I Will Eviscerate You However

I speak in verses, prophecies, and curses – Otep Shamaya


The Vermilion Queen comes to those who do not believe. She talks to those who do as old friends and compliments them on the openness of their minds. Her visage never changes to those who understand that She is an intangible abstract. A theoretical metaphor, a whisper in a screaming field of shrieking children. She is where your shadow goes in the noonday sun and the absence of warmth when the full moon rides high in the sky and the wolves bay their mournful worship. No one speaks of Her, everyone thinks of Her. Everyone knows Her, no one knows Her true name. They do violence in Her name and scream at other pacifists to do the same so that She is honored. Never once will the truth be discovered because a lie is the aberration of the standard morality of a deviant society claiming to be altruistic.

The Tarot will dance around you and when the Ten of Swords draws itself over and you leak like a metal colander, know that all you needed to do was believe in Her, or at least do Her the kindness of lying to everyone you knew about believing in Her, you like to them about everything else, why wouldn’t you just keep up a trending behavior? Can you not simply not just babble in incessantly about the wonder of the Circus as your death screams ricochet off of walls made by your malevolence and avarice of spirit?

Judge me not for seeking to find Her in the wastelands of what you left me to work with. I am not the one who deceives everyone by trying to fit the camel through the eye of a needle smaller than the eye can see. I am not the one who discards that which should HAVE BEEN HELD THE TIGHTEST to their bosom. No, I am the one who will search for Her, who will wander until the end of the world to see if I can find a hint of a rumor of the legend of the myth of Her. You will stop your shuffling soon and drop into the perdition you set up for yourself so long ago that you think it preordained by a King that has not been ruling since long before the Queen or the filth of you, was even a distant hope in a twinkling eye.

So as I sit for a moment to catch my breath and refill the blood of my heart with the fight that it needs to continue, you will be aimless, hopeless, heartless and worthless and that will make the job of the Queen so much easier.

Expect Her soon, fool. So very soon.


What follows is an account from an incident that occurred at «REDACTED» on «REDACTED», 14 20XX.

For the purposes of security, names have been kept the same to acknowledge the fucking guilty.

He never showed up. On all the days he could have fucking bailed on his daughter he chose «REDACTED»? That, Gentle Readers, is a class fucking act. Missing the «REDACTED» of his «REDACTED»? Who the fuck does that? WHY would you do that?

Still, now I hope the Crimson Princess takes apart the Light in him as he did to «REDACTED». I hope She rips him limb from motherfucking limb ad devours the dark chunk of dead wood that is his fucking heart.

Yes, Crimson Princess. All of the Circus will be there to see the Tarot come to life and dance in the Courtyards Of Damnation as «REDACTED» judges with laughter in their voice and the darkest hate of revenge on their lips.

We have all seen what happens when you are asked who you serve by the Fisher King. Now, we will see what you will gag out as you die when you are questioned at last by the Vermillion Goddess and the retinue She carries with her always and everywhere.