magic, right? right?

what am I supposed to believe anyway when I have a scene about Dymphna the patron saint of the mentally ill, whose mad father is a pagan King, and then later– like years later not to mention 50 pages later– I have a guy with his mouth sewn shut a la silence equals death and then in a whole other place/character/era of writing this freaking book I have four pages of inverted tasteless jokes– and THEN when I finally try to figure out where the Wojnarowicz might derive from the only real clue I get (and thanks only to Adam my favorite librarian) other than french punks with safety pins (also thanks to Adam) is Loki — the norse/pagan TRICKSTER god (I have never paid any attention to Norse mythology at all) who gets his mouth lashed shut for making a semantic/technical case, after losing a bet, about the term of the bet (just b/c you get to “have my head” doesn’t mean you get my NECK and therefore you can’t chop it off).


(It’s enough to make you feel all-powerful like the whole universe is connected in your own personal brain if only you could access it.)

Oh hell and I just remembered something and looked in my pile of  mythology books and it’s there, one I picked up a million years ago because… pretty pictures and hilarious author photo of guy probably 35 yrs old with pipe and swirling smoke.  I do kinda remember maybe reading parts of it…


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