The Lair of the Emerald Serpent

It looks like there's less then 20 hours left for the world to end. By then we will all be taking bets on the next likely date for the Zombie Apocalypse, the Rapture or the End of Days. The Rapture would be fun because we'd get rid of all those Holy Rollers and happy clappers.

Been absent of late. In spite of this serpents' allergy to children last week's school shooting was seriously disturbing and spooky especially so near Christmas. But almost as scary and downright terrifying is some of what passes for discussion in the live journal community Politicartoons

The devotion of some Americans to their guns is downright disturbing. Logic goes out the window when the reptilian brain gets fired up. After all, a Smith and Wesson always beats four aces. And these buggers think that a pistol is still insufficient. For what legitimate purpose could one possibly need a weapon that fires dozens of shots without needing to reload? People are seriously suggesting this would not have happened if the kids and teachers had guns too! Like possessing these things automatically makes you a good shot and a reasonable person who would never ever use them but for the noblest of purposes.
Guessing it would be near impossible to put huge taxes on bullets as there'd be a thriving black market in the infernal things

Spent the last few years getting over a workplace where trust and cooperation had been totally destroyed. A culture of arse covering, box ticking and fear without weapons is toxic enough without putting the whole thing on steroids.

Got to thinking that the end of days would look most attractive indeed if the alternative was to live in a society so lacking in trust that teachers would ever had to bring guns to class and where the top dogs treat everyone else as lamp posts.


In the meantime, Izzie has started negotiations with the inner serpent in an attempt to tame the other beasts that are rampaging around in the basement of her brain. Maybe they are secret agents of the toad and her goblin masters or just a bunch of dementors not allergic to chocolate.
Whatever they are, they've been making the last few months a veritable misery and it's time for them to be evicted

Now that it looks like the world will not be ending after all, it's no longer possible to outsource this job

( Sunset )

In spite of an incredibly mild and mostly gorgeous December, the weather bureau is predicting a most pickly 40 celsius for Christmas Day itself. That will be seriously sucky. It will be like 2007 all over again. And still the silly twits in the shops insist on their reindeer and snowflakes and there'll be countless sad South Brits slaving over turkey, pumpkin and roast potatoes and big slobbering serves of plum pudding

It's enough to turn a serpent into a pagan.

Silly serpent Izzie is completely zonked.
An hour or so at the keyboard has sort of restored a bit of serpent insanity but still not quite recovered from four hours of utter stupidity

There were two social events on this evening to tempt the Izzie. One was a Meetup writers group who have the good taste to chose Tarts Cafe on Lake Street as their unofficial headquarters and the other was a sort of discussion group on the topic of "What makes us want more?" at Fast Eddy's in Morley where it is necessary for carless creatures to navigate their way through the labyrinth of horrors that is Galleria Shopping Centre to get there

It should have been pretty obvious which was the better option. But the devil as usual is in the detail. Still not gotten around to registering to join this writers' group and there's the minor matter of a waiting list for the other group. So it is very bad form indeed to say you are going and decide not to without cancelling so that some one else can take your place
Such flakiness is a trait that Izzie simply loathes and despises. So it's either cancel by Tuesday to give some one else in the queue a chance or to turn up

The topic was interesting so it was just too tempting to go. Before that had spent the afternoon between the peaceful green gardens of the museum cafe and the State library's outdoor reading room. After all there was the important question to be answered after several days absence
"What would Jeronimus do?"

Had a wonderful hour or so in the museum garden doing some serious plotting and planning. The so called star of the story has been seriously sidelined and it is time to make amends. Even at this late stage it is not yet too late for her 15 minutes of fame
Aiming for 66,600 words this nano but just in case reaching the first deadline of 50,00 induces serious slacking and procrastination, it would be a good idea to start on the end and work backwards. The bad habit of big holes in the last third of the story needs to be cured once and for all and this is the year to do it

The very last card in the sequence of 88 is The Fool. Not any old fool but the Dark Grimoire incarnation. Izzie just cannot resist any opportunity to introduce a strange loop

Added to this some significant corporate restructuring, this hour or so should be good for several thousand words later in the evening.
Those murdering mutineers at Batavia's Graveyard also had a few suggestions of their own for a bit of drama.
So all was well in Nanoland until the fateful decision to board the 66 bus to Morley just after 5pm. Got stuck in serious traffic jams and was almost tempted to just get off and go on a coffee crawl instead or visit Veggie Mama. Anything but the claustrophobic hell hole of a bus going nowhere in a hurry
And then the arrival at the Minotaur's maze. Within two minutes of navigating past hordes of humans, conspicuous consumers and rampaging rug rats, the Izzie was already a blubbering wreck

It was an introvert's worst nightmare. All the noise and light and crowds. It's late November. Silly of Izzie to expect a monastery instead of mayhem.
The meeting was quite interesting but was simply not in a state to enjoy it. Swore yet again to never darken the door of that infernal hell hole and this time the serpent is serious

The bus goes very near Tarts cafe on the way back. Just to rub salt into the serpent war wounds.

A quick shower to wash off the shopping goblins and a glass of red started to slowly take effect. the clickety clack of the keyboard also helped
Will be back at the museum again tomorrow afternoon and there will be no side trips to witness The Shopping Games