Last week was stressful. It felt good on Friday to drive with a friend into the mountains, meet some others, strap on skis, and head up a trail Away From It All.
(Peg Aloi sees a tradition here.)
If today were not the deadline for submitting papers for the American Academy of Religion’s 2011 meeting—meaning that I have to watch what is coming in for Pagan Studies—I would be tempted to just re-wax my skis and climb back up there.
Could be worse. Instead of binding him, Day could have offered to initiate Sheen.
Myself, I puzzle over how firing teachers in wholesale lots provides the education that many believe essential to productivity in the 21st Century. And how to un-link speculation from the supply-demand relationship. And whatever happened to democracy in America.
But I accept that we are all infected with celebr-o-mania, thanks to the media’s unbridled use of dummo rays.
I mean, Charlie Sheen lives with flesh and blood and porn goddesses! Chump Pagans like you and me and that circle over there have just been wasting our time worshipping goddesses. Charlie has tiger’s blood, and we are just doing it wrong!