When one door closes, another opens

but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door
that we do not see the one which has opened for us

It's easier to put on slippers than to carpet the whole world.

There is nothing so powerful as truth

-- and often nothing so strange

We cannot control the evil tongues of others.

But a good life enables us to disregard them.

Puck's soliloquy

If we shadows have offended,
think of this and all is mended:
that you have but slumber'd here,
while these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
no more yielding than a dream.
Gentles -- do not reprehend.
If you pardon -- we will mend.
And -- as I am an honest puck,
if we have unearned luck
now to'scape the serpents' tongue,
we will make amends, ere long.
Else the puck a liar call.
So good night unto you all.
Give me your hands if we be friends
and Robin shall restore amends.

This world is the Theatre of the Absurd
and I am The Lord of Misrule

This world is a Will to Power...
and nothing besides.

The Theatre of the Absurd

The Theatre of the Absurd (French: Théâtre de l'Absurde) is a designation for particular plays of absurdist fiction, written by a number of primarily European playwrights in the late 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s, as well as to the style of theatre which has evolved from their work. Their work expressed the belief that, in a godless universe, human existence has no meaning or purpose and therefore all communication breaks down. Logical construction and argument gives way to irrational and illogical speech and to its ultimate conclusion, silence [1]. Critic Martin Esslin coined the term "Theatre of the Absurd", relating these plays based on a broad theme of absurdity, roughly similar to the way Albert Camus uses the term. The Absurd in these plays takes the form of man’s reaction to a world apparently without meaning or man as a puppet controlled or menaced by an invisible outside force. Though the term is applied to a wide range of plays, some characteristics coincide in many of the plays: broad comedy, often similar to Vaudeville, mixed with horrific or tragic images; characters caught in hopeless situations forced to do repetitive or meaningless actions; dialogue full of clichés, wordplay, and nonsense; plots that are cyclical or absurdly expansive; either a parody or dismissal of realism and the concept of the "well-made play". Playwrights commonly associated with the Theatre of the Absurd include Samuel Beckett, Eugène Ionesco, Jean Genet, Harold Pinter, Tom Stoppard, Friedrich Dürrenmatt, Fernando Arrabal, and Edward Albee.

Falstaff

While the medieval and later Roman custom of a Lord of Misrule as a master of revels, a figure of fun and no more than that, is most familiar, there does seem to be some indication of an earlier and more unpleasant aspect to this figure

The Wicker Man

However, according to the anthropologist James Frazer, there was a darker side to the Saturnalia festival. In Durostorum on the Danube (modern Silistra), Roman soldiers would choose a man from among them to be the Lord of Misrule for thirty days. At the end of that thirty days, his throat was cut on the altar of Saturn. Similar origins of the British Lord of Misrule, as a sacrificial king (a temporary king, as Frazer puts it) who was later put to death for the benefit of all, have also been recorded[citation needed]. If such a practice were even play-acted at Amasea, we can be sure we would have heard about it from the bishop.

On January 1, A.D. 400, Asterius, bishop of Amasea[1] in Pontus (Amasya, Turkey) preached a sermon against the Feast of Calends ("this foolish and harmful delight")[2] that tells a lot about the Lord of Misrule in Late Antiquity. The New Years feast included children arriving at each doorstep, exchanging their gifts for reward:[1][2]

"This festival teaches even the little children, artless and simple, to be greedy, and accustoms them to go from house to house and to offer novel gifts, fruits covered with silver tinsel. For these they receive, in return, gifts double their value, and thus the tender minds of the young begin to be impressed with that which is commercial and sordid."

--Asterius, in "Oratio 4: Adversus Kalendarum Festum" [2]
It contrasted with the Christian celebration held, not by chance, on the adjoining day:

"We celebrate the birth of Christ, since at this time God manifested himself in the flesh. We celebrate the Feast of Lights (Epiphany), since by the forgiveness of our sins we are led forth from the dark prison of our former life into a life of light and uprightness." --Asterius, "Oratio 4"

Significantly, for Asterius the Christian feast was explicitly an entry from darkness into light, and although no conscious solar nature could have been expressed, it is certainly the renewed light at midwinter, which was celebrated among Roman pagans, officially from the time of Aurelian, as the "festival of the birth of the Unconquered Sun". Meanwhile throughout the city of Amasea, although entry into the temples and holy places had been forbidden by the decree of Theodosius I (391), the festival of gift-giving when "all is noise and tumult" in "a rejoicing over the new year" with a kiss and the gift of a coin, went on all around, to the intense disgust and scorn of the bishop.

The Lord of Misrule

In Britain, the Lord of Misrule — known in Scotland as the Abbot of Unreason and in France as the Prince des Sots — was an officer appointed by lot at Christmas to preside over the Feast of Fools. The Lord of Misrule was generally a peasant or sub-deacon appointed to be in charge of Christmas revelries, which often included drunkenness and wild partying, in the pagan tradition of Saturnalia. The Church held a similar festival involving a Boy Bishop. The celebration of the Feast of Fools was outlawed by the Council of Basel that sat from 1431, but it survived to be put down again by the Catholic Queen Mary I in England in 1555.

While mostly known as a British holiday custom, the appointment of a Lord of Misrule comes from antiquity. In ancient Rome, from the 17th to the 23rd of December, a Lord of Misrule was appointed for the feast of Saturnalia, in the guise of the good god Saturn. During this time the ordinary rules of life were turned topsy-turvy as masters served their slaves, and the offices of state were held by slaves. The Lord of Misrule presided over all of this, and had the power to command anyone to do anything during the holiday period. This holiday seems to be the precursor to the more modern holiday, and it carried over into the Christian era.

Saturnalia

Saturnalia became one of the most popular Roman festivals. It was marked by drunken orgies, tomfoolery and reversal of social roles, in which slaves and masters ostensibly switched places, much like the Lord of Misrule in later Christian celebrations.

Saturnalia was introduced around 217 BC to raise citizen morale after a crushing military defeat at the hands of the Carthaginians.[1] Originally celebrated for a day, on December 17, its popularity saw it grow until it became a week-long extravaganza, ending on the 23rd. Efforts to shorten the celebration were unsuccessful. Augustus tried to reduce it to three days, and Caligula to five. These attempts caused uproar and massive revolts among the Roman citizens.

Saturnalia involved the conventional sacrifices, a couch (lectisternium) set out in front of the temple of Saturn and the untying of the ropes that bound the statue of Saturn during the rest of the year. A Saturnalicius princeps was elected master of ceremonies for the proceedings. Besides the public rites there were a series of holidays and customs celebrated privately. The celebrations included a school holiday, the making and giving of small presents (saturnalia et sigillaricia), massive and multiple group orgies, and a special market (sigillaria). Gambling was allowed for all, even slaves.

The toga was not worn, but rather the synthesis, i.e. colourful, informal "dinner clothes"; and the pileus (freedman's hat) was worn by everyone. Slaves were exempt from punishment, and treated their masters with (a pretense of) disrespect. The slaves celebrated a banquet: before, with, or served by the masters. Yet the reversal of the social order was mostly superficial; the banquet, for example, would often be prepared by the slaves, and they would prepare their masters' dinner as well. It was license within careful boundaries; it reversed the social order without subverting it.[2]

The customary greeting for the occasion is a "Io, Saturnalia!" — Io (pronounced "e-o") being a Latin interjection related to "ho" (as in "Ho, praise to Saturn").

Happy Saturnalia, pagans

When you look at yourself from a universal standpoint,
something inside always reminds or informs you
that there are bigger and better things to worry about.

Haters are confused admirers who can't understand why everybody loves you.

What ever you do,
dont congratulate yourself too much
or berate yourself either.

Your choices are half chance.
So are everybody elses.

Friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on.

Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography in lifestyle
because the older you get,
the more you need the people you knew when you were young.

Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is.

Many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

It is Doubt that makes us grow

because it forces us to look fearlessly at the many answers that exist to one question

By three methods we may learn wisdom:

First, by reflection, which is noblest;
Second, by imitation, which is easiest;

and third by experience, which is the bitterest.

Knowledge without transformation is not wisdom

Whether or not it is clear to you,
the universe is unfolding as it should.

I wash my hands of those who imagine
chattering to be knowledge,
silence to be ignorance,
and affection to be art.

Live passionately,
with all the injuries that can happen as a result.

It is worth it.