BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

When I was in high school I was a member of the Drama Club. We studied the fine art of acting, performed skits, and even put on plays. It was fun. As I’ve aged, however, drama has morphed into something else entirely, and I don’t find it fun in the least. I think you probably know the drama to which I refer. If you don’t then I envy you, because that means you haven’t been touched by it.

Now, I will grant you, sometimes this drama is amusing, but only in a really sad sort of way. Unfortunately, there are folks in the world who are addicted to strife. And, when I say addicted I mean it. So much so that if there isn’t any drama in their lives they will manufacture some in order to feed their need. Some of the worst offenders are what the pagan community refers to as “Fluffy Bunnies”.  In short, a “Fluffy Bunny” or “Fluff Bunny” is someone who is unwilling to accept that there is anything other than goodness and light in paganism. For them, any deviation from that is inherently wrong and evil. Whenever threatened by factual information that is not contained within the three chapters of the particular book they skimmed before declaring themselves High Priest/ess Aluminum Fairy Poo, they instantly launch into their mantra, “Persecution! Help, I’m being persecuted!”

You might think I am kidding, but unfortunately I am not. Granted, there are some other nuances and complexities to the bunnies, but the above is the overall gist.

Of course, fluff bunnies, like their Hassenpfeffer bound cousins, multiply at an alarming rate. One theory is that they do this because cutting up big ol’ fat lines of drama on a mirror and sucking it up through Monopoly money isn’t any fun if you are all by yourself. Therefore, these cotton tailed drama junkies will invite their friends into the mix, and before long you have a “drama house” on your block, complete with strung out dramaheads propped up against the wall, sucking on a drama pipe. Others will be passing a blimped out drama doob around the circle, getting all excited when a drama seed pops and shoots across the room. The really hardcore “fluffy thespians” are usually in the back, cooking up drama in a spoon over a goddess candle then mainlining it.

Now, this would be just fine if the drama was contained to the drama house, but it just never seems to stay there for long. Especially with the Internet at their disposal. Add social networking to the mix and you have yourself a drama pusher’s wet dream.

Case in point:

The Lost Abbey Witch’s Wit beer controversy.

If you haven’t heard about this, good for you. Once again, I envy that. But, being a part of the Pagan community – whether I self-identify as a Pagan or not (that’s a whole ‘nother blog), I get to hear about it. I even get invited to join the crusade.

In a nutshell, this Microbrewery in California puts out a seasonal selection called Witch’s Wit – “Wit” being a style of beer, specifically a Belgian Wheat Ale with fruit zests and spices added. A mainstream beer example – as much as it pains me to mention an AB product here – would be the Bud Light Wheat. While I haven’t sampled the Port Brewing/Lost Abbey Wit, I’m sure that it is far superior to the Bud Light. Craft beers always are… But, I digress…

The label on the bottle of Witch’s Wit features a rendering of a woman being burned at the stake while the nondescript faces of the crowd watch on. The text about the beer goes on to tell the “back story” behind the beer with tongue-in-cheek dark satire., highlighting the fact that such atrocities were just that, atrocities. The artwork is purposely surreal and the verbiage purposely over the top. While I will concede that someone with a condition such as Asperger’s Syndrome may be incapable of recognizing satire right off the bat, logic dictates that a company that is selling beer is not highly likely to publicly advocate burning people at the stake.

However, leave it to the drama-seeking fluff bunnies to jump all over this.

It is their contention that Port Brewing/Lost Abbey is advocating just that – witch burning. (BTW – in the interest of historical accuracy, during the inquisition burning was reserved for heretics and martyrs. NOT witches. The fluffies don’t believe that, but then, if it isn’t contained in the three chapters of that one book, yadda yadda…)

In addition to advocating witch burning, apparently they are also advocating violence against women – due to the fact that it is a woman in the artwork who is tied to the stake. Just ask the fluff bunnies. They have some amazing insight when it comes to surreal artwork and satire. They can see things the rest of us cannot. Hell, they have amazing insight about everything. It may come as a surprise to you, but per a swarming mass of “fluffies” out there, I am evil. Why? Because the main character in my novels, Rowan Gant, is a Witch. Well, that doesn’t make sense, does it? After all, aren’t they Witches too? Well yes, but the thing is, you have to think like a fluffy bunny. You see, even though I portray Witchcraft and Paganism in an accurate and positive light in my novels,  I write murder mystery/suspense thrillers. Operative word there, murder.  Dying. Blood. Horribleness and stuff. Eww…

I have been informed – and continue to be informed on some bizarre, random schedule – that having a Witch associated with murder (even though he is solving the murder, NOT committing it) is wrong, wrong, WRONG! I am supposed to be writing novels about healing the earth, goodness, light, and fairy dust.

Who knew?

And, I hate to say it, but the above is not an exaggeration. Yeah. Scary, eh?

But, back to the beer…

The Fluff Bunnies have gone so far overboard this time that the whole controversy made it to the New York Times. Can you imagine that? The NYT did a feature story on a Microbrewed Beer all because of a bunch of drama junkies who were having a slow day.

So, here’s my take on it: Normally I wouldn’t say anything. I’d just sit by and ignore you cotton-tails while you suck down your your dime bag of drama, then wander off in search of more. However, since you have elected to get all ridiculous and bring a jaundiced eye to bear upon ALL Pagans with your lunacy,  you have effectively managed to contaminate the rest of us with your stupid. Therefore, I’m going to chime in out of self-preservation. Quit whining. Seriously. Quit friggin’ whining and and pull up your big kid undies. If you don’t like the label on the beer, then don’t buy it. Grow the f*ck up. There’s a movement among some folks right now to boycott Port Brewing/Lost Abbey. Well, if that’s your thing, go for it. There’s your course of action. Boycott. If it bothers you that much, don’t buy it. More power to you. Join the Boycott Lost Abbey group on Facebook. Invite your friends. Invite me if you want, although I will obviously decline. Suffice it to say, a rational reaction to your dislike doesn’t bother me in the least, and I say go for it.

Unfortunately, I don’t have any choice in the matter as far as the  actual, physical boycotting goes since they don’t sell their beer anywhere close to me. But trust me, if they did I’d go buy one. And after drinking it, if I liked it I’d go back and buy more. I happen to like Wit Ales, and I am also rational enough to get the joke – as well as the underlying dig at the religious body responsible for the atrocity.

My real problem with all of this comes from the bunnies who are demanding that they change the label and keep spouting rhetoric like “I can’t believe they are being allowed to persecute Pagans like this!”

Give me a break…

And stop lumping all Pagans into your hutch. Some of us have a clue, and you need to get one.

Get over yourselves. It’s a bottle of beer. I haven’t seen any of you protesting Monty Python’s Holy Grail Ale. It’s been around for years, and it boasts right there on the label that it is “Tempered over burning witches.” Are THEY persecuting you too?

What about the “Flat Witch On The Door” Halloween decoration? What about MacBeth? Maybe we ought to dig up Shakespeare and give him a good talking to, ya’think? What about The Wizard Of Oz? Can’t have any green faced witches being melted by girls in gingham dresses – that’s just unacceptable!

Here’s a dose of reality: The only person(s) persecuting you is you and your ilk, because the more you run off at the mouth the more people are going to look at you like you’ve lost your ever loving mind. Fact is, you probably have, but that’s not something you want to go around broadcasting. Suck it up, don’t buy the beer, and get on with your life. Quit slandering the people, quit sending them emails calling them names, and quit demanding that they change something just because it doesn’t fit your myopic vision of the world – Gee… Sounds to me a lot like you’re the ones doing the persecuting.

Now, here’s my other issue with all of this – I was getting the nasty email from the bunnies long before this beer ever hit the market, so WTF?  Why am I getting left out in the cold? Apparently the bunnies have not raised a big enough stink about how evil I am, and how horrible my books are to portray a crime solving Witch, instead of a tree hugging, earth humping, crystal sucker.

So get on this stick, will ya’? I want some of that free publicity from the New York Times too…

More to come…

Murv

NOTE: This blog entry has been edited. None of the original material was removed, however there have been comments added. You will find them italicized and within parentheses. For the record, I did remove my note of 1/19/11 instructing people to stop trying to engage me in pedantic pissing matches over the origin of duct tape just because they are humor impaired. I’m still instructing you all to not engage me in pedantic pissing matches whether you are humor impaired or not, so that hasn’t changed. However, I thought maybe I’d add some more to it… Here goes.

It seems that there is a sudden upsurge in searches for both Duct and Duck Tape. Per the search terms logged it would appear that there is a rather robust “duct/duck tape fetish” community out there. Wish I’d known before writing this particular entry. Probably would have been much funnier than just the serial killer and stupid people angle. At any rate, due to the enormous number of searches leading to this entry, I have been taking heat from some folks who want to point out to me the errors in this piece. It seems they didn’t get the satire. In at least one instance, said individual even elected to be especially nasty about it. For the record, the name/email address he/she entered remained intact. That was not my doing. Obviously it was aimed at me, but he/she missed.

So here you have it. The original blog intact with some added commentary to help the humor, satire, and parody impaired. You probably don’t know who you are, but trust me, we do.

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Have you ever wondered about duct tape?

I mean like wondering why it’s so popular with serial killers, kidnappers, and the like? At least, that’s how it is on TV. Oh, and just so we are all on the same page, no I’m not a serial killer. Nor am I a kidnapper. Never even played one on TV. Yeah, yeah, I know… I write fiction novels about them, but that’s different.

Also, just so we have our ducks in a row, we are talking about duct tape. Not duck tape. “Duck” tape doesn’t exist (Yes, actually, it does). Duct tape does. (Yes, actually, it does too.)

I have a friend (yeah, I know, amazing eh?) who worked in the music biz as a road manager. Her husband still does, and he handles cameras, lights, and all that jazz. Big deal stuff. They actually swear by “Gaffer Tape.” This stuff is great… You see, gaffer tape is kinda like duct tape on mega doses of steroids. In fact, it makes anything major league baseball players have been using to jack themselves up look like a placebo. Seriously. My friend has even noted that gaffer tape will hold someone on the side of a tour bus, at highway speeds, for at least 50 miles. She refuses to go into the exact details as to how she knows this, except to say that she has irrefutable anecdotal evidence. My guess is someone made her mad and she taped said individual to the side of the bus. She’s dangerous like that… In fact, she and E K get along really well, which is pretty scary.

She also tells me that it works great as a depilatory too – as long as you don’t mind losing the first three layers of skin along with the unwanted (or even wanted) hair. Good thing she’s never given a roll to E K, or I might be bald…

But, as usual, I digress…

The thing here is duct tape. It was originally designed to seal up duct work, hence the silver/grey color AND the name, duct tape. Makes sense all of a sudden, doesn’t it? I mean, “duck” tape was really kind of a WTF kind of name, dont’cha think? After all, what would a duck need with tape? Besides Donald, I mean. And, even though they make glue out of horses, and gelatin out of beef, it was really hard to fathom making tape out of ducks. (This part here, in bold, would be the joke. The part where it talks about making tape out of ducks. If you don’t find it funny, hey, no worries. I don’t hit them ALL out of the park, and we all have different sense of humor, as you will see below…)

So, anyway… I think maybe I need to run down to my basement and grab up a roll of duct tape to keep right here on the corner of my desk.

Why?

Because, like I said at the outset, it seems to be the prime choice for serial killers and kidnappers – not only as a restraint, but to keep their victims from screaming for help. Just slap a slice of the ol’ silver sticky stuff over the mouth and no sound escapes. Of course, these days if you happen to be a more fashion conscious criminal, designer colors are available, but I’m a purist. Just give me the silvery-grey stuff and I’m good.

But, I still haven’t answered your question, have I? I mean, why would I need duct tape on hand?

Exactly.

“Huh?” you grunt.

I need it for my hands. I figure if it works to “gag” victims, maybe I can tape my hands together so I won’t be able to get myself in trouble by answering stupid emails. (This would be yet another part of the joke. For, as you can plainly see from the comment thread below, I didn’t get out my roll of duck, duct, 100 mile per hour, gaffer, scotch, masking, packing, or any other tape soon enough.)

Of course, it might not work. I might need something stronger. Wonder if my friend has an extra roll of gaffer tape laying around… Something in a nice, yellow “caution” sort of color would be good…

More to come…

Murv

NOTE: In reality, Mister Arendt, who commented below, has the real story.  Apparently, however, he didn’t see the humor in my post since I revised history for my own uses. Regular readers here know when to take a post seriously – which isn’t often – so I can only assume he was new to the Leakage. For the whole story about DUCT/DUCK tape go to http://www.ideafinder.com/history/inventions/ducttape.htm

Mister Arendt’s Canadian counterpart didn’t see the humor either. I had once heard a rumor that Canadians, as a general rule, were the most polite people on the planet.  That has been my personal experience up until now…