Archives for the month of: April, 2013

Donna Louise here. I’m feeling better now after coming down with some nasal thing. My friends have diagnosed me with allergies which are now, and will continue to be, affected by the mold. Seems the winter was not cold enough to kill it all and now mold colonies threaten to take over the world.

Then there were the friends who told me that I brought this cold on myself as a way to stop and rest for a few weeks. “Donna Louise, you’ve had so much happen to you since the beginning of the year that, once your body relaxed, you could experience being sick to recover.” The logic of that argument escapes me.

My BBFF, Bob, told me he didn’t believe those people. “You just got sick. Who wouldn’t given the warm, sunny, 80 degrees days followed by the cold, gray 35 degree days.” That’s one reason I like Bob. He doesn’t lay a guilt trip on me…usually.

After the threat of snow, which did not happen, and a hard freeze, which also did not happen, and a forecast for the mid- to upper-50s today, I’m healed. I will leave the house soon for the closest branch of the public library to pick up my zombie detective mystery by Kevin J. Anderson. With book in hand I’ll go visit my friend at the tea shop and find out what’s been happening in her life lately, followed by lunch and then tea and cookies with friends at 4. Sounds like a wonderful day.

As my birthday anniversary approaches, I’m planning several events to celebrate another year completed. A dear friend and her husband have asked me to dinner on Saturday and the ballet. Normally I would not attend a ballet, who needs to see dancing anorexia, but my friends have scored tickets for Les Ballet Trockadero de Monte Carlo.

 When Daphne told me her plans for our evening, I must have sounded less than happy because she said, “They’re men in tutus doing ballet. What’s not to like about drag ballet?”

 I breathed a sigh of relief because I thought it was one of those state ballets, but Icouldn’t argue with her about fun of seeing me in pink (I hope they’re pink) tutus. If I understood correctly, the troupe will dance “Laurencia,” a Soviet-era ballet where the peasants rise up and kill the evil Commander who has taken Laurencia to “know” her (if you get my drift) and imprisons her husband, Frondoso. The proletariat won’t stand oppression of their kind and rise up…typical Soviet-era ballets from all that I’ve seen. All power to the people! Sounds perfectly dreadful, but with men in tutus going en pointe and whirling around the stage appeals to me. So I’m off to the ballet on Saturday night.

Speaking of power to the people, planning session will occupy a great deal of my time in the coming week or so. On May Day SIS (Sisters in Struggle) plans a big parade and demonstration in honor of women and their right to control their own bodies. The Penile Auxiliary will march in the parade. I never grow tired of seeing huge penises marching in precision drills.

One of the women’s groups has made a huge globe which they will carry in the parade with an equal number of men. At some point they will walk away leaving the guys to carry the burden of the world on their shoulders alone. It’s a visual aid.

Some of the women may go topless, but that depends on how warm it is on the day of the march. We’re sure to attract a crowd.

Spring is here…again…and a young woman’s thoughts turn to borrowing books from the public library. I’ve got to go before the homeless people take control of the first floor. Bless their hearts, some of them haven’t bathed for at least two years and the library is always too hot on days like today. At least the guys are polite. Ah, such is life in the early part of the 21st century.

Donna Louise here. Last night as I complained about today being Monday, I heard my last guru say, “Things are not as they appear. It is all illusion. Make the illusion something you can live with.” I rarely hear his voice anymore as he transitioned to another plain about fifteen years ago.

I told a friend of mine that my guru had transitioned to another plain. She asked, “What airport did he have to change planes at?”

To end the conversation quickly, I said, “Atlanta.”

Following my guru’s advice, I have decided to start the week on Friday, which has always been a joyous day for me. That’s one day of work followed by two days of vacation. Monday becomes the Wednesday “hump” day. So today’s my hump day. I plan to try this for a month to see if I’ll overcome my dread of Monday’s which will now be the middle of the week. I’ll let you know how it works.

When my guru “left” his body, I made the mistake of suggesting, at the weeklong mourning festivities, that he had died. Actually I made more than a suggestion. As one of his long-practicing devotees, his handlers allowed me to say a few words, much fewer than I’d planned.

As I looked out on the crowd and saw how many of them still considered this man the ultimate master who would continue to guide them from another world, I abandoned my prepared remarks, which had been okayed by his heirs, and talked about how he’d never wanted all this crap and, now that he was dead…

The collective inhale almost sucked me from the platform.

“Dead?” People started screaming. Those docile little followers turned on me. The security people hustled me off-stage, gave me a thousand dollars in cash and told me never to darken the doors of the New Mexican ranch given to my guru by another one of his devoted followers who planned to turn the dead guru thing into a moneymaking proposition. NOTE:  He’s still making millions off the dead man.

That’s why I wasn’t too surprised by the Kali Nuts and Ma MA I visited last September in Santa Fe. Like evangelical ministers among Christians, these gurus get so sidetracked by the adoration of their followers that they couldn’t hear God speaking to them short of a Second Coming and even then they would deny it as long as they could to make more money. Their followers have Religious AIDS (Acquired Idiotic Devotion Syndrome) and lost their way as well.

I haven’t ever told the story of my guru because his heir reminds me of L. Ron Hubbard and his magical mystical mayhem machine. I mean, come on, people, dressing up in faux military outfits and working on ships. Can’t you see how silly you all look?

Maybe that’s why they are so evil to those people who leave. I mean, if you realized that running around in a bizarre outfit signified that you were just as crazy as the founder, would you really want to be confronted with that information day after day? I wouldn’t.

Let’s face it. Religions and religious philosophies can make stupid people even more stupid. We need only to look at the world around us to see where total devotion to a religion, whatever the religion, can do to people and make people do.

Donna Louise’s Rule of Religious Devotion:  Devotion leads to obsession which leads to fanaticism which leads to all kinds of craziness like killing people and bombing them and other non-life-affirming activities.