RAW Emotion

Sunday was the Robert Anton Wilson official memorial in Santa Cruz. It was really intense for me. I met a lot of people, several of whom I have known online for years or months. I made new friends, and reconnected with others that I hadn't seen in a while. I felt completely surrounded by people who were more "my people" than I have ever felt before, and may ever feel again. This alone moved me to tears a couple of times. I passed out a number of the Brainwash zine. I gave out about a hundred Pope cards directly, and left several hundred extra by the guestbook. There were only maybe 10 remaining by the time I left. I gave a Pope card to R. U. Sirius, and shook his hand. I shook noisemakers with the five hundred people who made it there, shook them as hard as I could as Bob's ashes met the ocean. We all watched the small sailboat from the bay windows. I ate tasty things, drank tasty things, tried to connect to everyone there I could. I wanted to gather them all up and befriend them and create new wisdom with them. I listened as others spoke, and I have to admit that I cried more than a little for a man that I never knew except through what he wrote.

I spoke at the open mic. Discordianism has brought me almost everyone I am closest to. I built this website, and they came - they emailed me, they IM'd me, they responded to posts I'd made all over the net trying to discuss this crazy semi-faith that grabbed me by the head long before I had any idea what I was really getting into. Discordianism has brought me the rich moments, the friends, the love, the revelations. How can I express my gratitude for my entire life to someone I met only once, and too briefly? I only hope that I can somehow give some of this back, help others find meaningful connections and a sense of belonging in chaos. I hope I may show my gratitude by returning the favor to the world.

Bittersweet.

The stories were fascinating, people who had known a man I had only glimpsed in reading between the lines. The photographs were moving, a long amazing life with many friends.

Thanks, Bob. For everything. For everyone. For *me.*

thank you, notebook fairy

Saturday night, I was rushing into PantheaCon with all my photocopies and bags of golden apples and the like, arriving only an hour before my ritual with work still to do. I had many copies of the fliers for KallistiCon stashed in my yellow spiral notebook that I was going to take with me. I was worried about time and getting everything done. I got to my minion's room and finished preparations for the ritual. On our way out the door to set up, I tried to find my fliers to hand them out, but I didn't see the notebook and figured it was in a pile somewhere or I'd left it in my car. I was in a rush, so I let it go. I'd have fliers for Sunday, whatever.

Except that when I got back to my car, the notebook wasn't there either. I checked with the person whose room we had prepared in, no notebook. I figured it was in my car hiding under something, my car is kind of full of trash. Whatever, I'd feel weird handing out fliers at a memorial service anyways, even if it was for Bob. Besides, the hundreds of Pope cards have the address for my website anyways. I'd find the notebook eventually.

I searched my memory. I do not have a very good memory, I must admit, but it's not often that I completely lose something I'd had in hand not long before. I literally have no memory of this (fairly important) notebook from the time I dropped off a friend with some other copies I'd stashed in it. None at all. I cannot trace any memories after this. It was in my car. Then it wasn't. I find this a little alarming.

Wednesday I checked the mail, and found a thick white envelope addressed to me with no return address, three stamps. The top page - black rollerball on yellow notebook paper - says:

Found your Notebook.
I tore out all the paperwork with writing, & other paperwork that looked important.
All is enclosed.

Enclosed is the DMV registration renewal notice I had in there, and related paperwork. Enclosed are old to-do lists, wedding invite lists. Enclosed is a single copy each of the two KallistiCon fliers and one original Pope hat.

What happened to the 75 copies of the KallistiCon fliers? Did someone at the con find my notebook and pass them out? Did the person who found the notebook notice they were duplicates and opt not to mail them, instead throwing them out or lining a bird cage? This gaping hole in my memory is peculiar enough that it seems Eris herself had other plans for my fliers, and I am only left to speculate.

I have to admit, I'm really wondering about the experience of the person who found my notebook. I had some *weird* shit written in there, I am only noticing now as I look through this stack of papers. Notes for a ridiculous rant on the Y2KKK! Something in green pen that says "-Shopping carts, torn from their natural habitat are resorting to violence by attacking unarmed citizens in blocked hallways." - and then goes on to talk about homeless shopping carts and their immoral ways, quoting upright citizens (like Hank the angry, drunken dwarf) in the fight against these rioting carts. In purple ink, a depressing missive that could have been an lj post about fear of lack of privacy - oh the irony, to imagine a stranger reading this! And a to-do list, and a list of bills and current balances (thank goodness no account numbers!).

Thank you, notebook fairy. Thank you for returning my papers. Maybe you have made a Pope hat for yourself with a copier and tape. Maybe you have copied my writing on lack of privacy and pinned it to corkboards at every cafe you encounter. Maybe you have handed out all my fliers for me. At any rate, thank you. I hope my weird writing made you laugh, and I in return will laugh at the mystery you left me when you did not include your return address or the circumstances under which you found my notebook. I will light a candle for you, and do my best to earn this happy favor.