If I could bring myself to care more, this might be a rant.

A little bit ago, someone posted to alt.religion.wicca.moderated a bit of Christian net.kipple that I got from my late aunt a bit more than a year ago (may she ascend). Only they went through and swapped out all the 'God' references for 'the Goddess' and changed 'Christian' to 'Pagan'.

I wish . . .

I wish that people would stop using 'pagan' interchangeably with 'Wiccanesque goddess-centric duotheism'. I can't help but think of what sort of lobotomy and light Sekhmet might give to some of these pumpkins.

I wish that the contentless bunnies-and-marshmallow generic denominationless Christianity wasn't so indistinguishable from contentless bunnies-and-marshmallow generic denominationless neopaganism that all it takes is a swap of the gendering to produce glurge for all seasons.

And what sort of neopagan metaphor is carving a pumpkin and throwing away the pulp and seeds? Where's the circle of life imagery and the new growth? Can't we at least, in vague remembrance of solipsistnation's wonderful rant when I posted about this thing first I saw it, have pie, and take some nourishment from the natural world rather than shaping it to our purposes and leaving it to rot?

Pap. It's all pap. Not enough nutrition even to be nourishing babyfood, so it's not even useful pap.

We are survivors in the night.

I went on another CD-ripping binge earlier, and one of the things I finally got around to was snagging stuff off Phil Collins's Both Sides album.

Which includes the song "Everyday".

Let us go back to early 1994. The Both Sides album was released in 1993, with singles "Both Sides" and "Everyday". And I was desperately, hopelessly interested in teinedreugan, who was otherwise occupied at the time.

And "Everyday" was stalking me. Every time I turned on the radio, it was playing "Everyday", or started playing "Everyday" immediately after finishing what it was playing. It did this for ages. I bitched about being stalked by Phil Collins.

I was going to be going away (to CTY) for six weeks that summer. He gave me a lift home from the Game Place, as was our general habit, and I worked up the nerve to give him a kiss on the cheek before retreating into the house, flopping on my back on my bed, and turning on the radio.

It didn't play "Everyday".

It played Roxette's "It Must Have Been Love."

Then it played "Everyday".

I called donperros, because he always understands this sort of thing.

Love you, brudder mine. Love you, teinedreugan.

On the way to Pennsylvania, we heard "Everyday" three or four times.