I've got plenty of nothing

There's too much going on here for me to have bothered with thinking of anything. Nothing actually important going on, to be honest, but enough that I have zero for the blog.

Pretty sad for this blog to come to that so early in its existence, isn't it?

Well, not so sad when you check the sidebar and notice that there are faaar too many years of pointlessness to be found in the archives of my old blog.

Yeah.

This is the part where I continue typing in hopes of coming up with at least something that might have something to do with anything.

Uh huh.

So...

...





...


Ok, I still have nothing.

I have wine gums, but they're at home. They've also changed the wine gum packaging. That upsets me. Wine gum bags are supposed to look like wine gum bags. I'm not supposed to have to search them out in their new disguise.

Wheat, don't you still owe me wine gums?

You could buy me wine gums for next week, you know.

Even if you don't still owe me wine gums.





Or whatever. I'm going now. Wish me better luck tomorrow.

And since I'm apparently everyone's TV Guide...

The t.v. club will note that there is not a new episode tonight. Next week, I think.

There might be a rerun on Global tomorrow if you're jonesing, though.




Now don't say I never tell you anything. Yes, you. You know who you are.

*mumbles something through fog*

I'm finding it really hard to get going today. This is a problem, since I've already done one program (yep, back at work again) and had to drive forty minutes down a busy highway to get here in the first place.

I suppose it doesn't help that when I woke up this morning my brain was playing the Sons of the Pioneers singing Pecos Bill.

Now, some of you are saying hey! I remember that one. Some of you are thinking it's an odd choice of earworm for someone who doesn't go in for country music. And some of you are just thinking what on earth is wrong with you?

That's ok. I tend to get that reaction a lot. And I'm not even the toughest critter west of the Alamo.

I'd be curious to know what dream was disrupted when the internal alarm clock went off to remind me I had to get back to the city this morning, though. It could have been any one of several associations. I know my grandma had Sons of the Pioneers albums, and as a result I can face the barren waste with the best of 'em (pop-up warning on that last link). I've also seen the animated short I linked to above far, far too many times.

Ah, my misspent youth in the Wonderful World of Disney.

I suppose I should explain that joke. It was a joke, you know. I've always been more of a Warner Brothers fan, really. Something about the chaos factor.

Have you had enough pointless links yet?

Back to the Disney version of Pecos Bill (which the internet informs me has now been edited to take out the cigarette-rolling part. Come on, people. That's taking PC just a little bit too far into the realm of the completely idiotic. Did they honestly think that it would make kids want to try rolling a smoke the way Bill did? Stupid, stupid people). Was anyone else bothered by Slue-foot Sue's endlessly-rebounding bustle? Maybe it's just because my dad was a science teacher, but even as a kid I knew she couldn't possibly bounce higher and higher like that. And yeah, things like that annoyed me.

They probably annoyed my dad, too. After all, he was the one who was stuck trying to answer the resulting questions.





Man, I wish I could wake up. I thought a bit of pointless blather might kick-start the brain, but apparently it ain't gonna happen.

Tonight I get to sleep without a bed full of needy animals, you know. In my own apartment and everything.

First time in over a week.

I'm going to be sooo pissed if I end up staying awake even then.




Anyway. I think the fog's closing in again (even way too much sugar in the chai doesn't seem to be helping that) so I'd better stop before this gets weird.

Yes, I know it's too late for that.

And shut up, world.

How's my cranky?

Call 1-555-$%@#-YOU...

Hands up all who even got that?

Yeah, I know. It made sense in my head, though.

Back to topic, then. Yes, I do have one (of sorts). I've been quite cranky in the past while, and personally I think I've been doing a darn good job of hiding it.

Ok, maybe just cloaking it a little.

Oh, come on. I've seemed reasonably chipper, don't you think? Or thing, which is what I originally typed. And if you do thing, I'm not entirely sure I want to know about it.

Great. Now my easily distracted mood has been even further shot to heck by the appearance of Gorillaz on the internet radio. Not my usual taste, you're thinking (or thinging)? Can't help it. I get a kick out of virtual bands.

Makes it hard to go back to talking about being cranky.

I'm going to, though.

For the past few days my ankle has been approximately the size of a... oh, let's say somewhere between a largish navel orange and a smallish grapefruit.

This leads to pain.

This leads to an exaggeration of the limp.

This leads to more pain.

This leads to cranky, especially when there's been no choice but to use said ankle several times a day on icy roads because apparently THE DOG is above using the cats' litter box.

Although... come to think of it, I'm not sure I'd want to volunteer to do the scooping if she suddenly did decide to become litter trained. This is not a small dog.

Incidentally, that's not my boot print in today's pointless photo. It's my father's. I've had the picture on my nerdstick for a while, but I thought it'd make a decent bass note in the symphony of dog-walking whinge.

As of tomorrow, by the way, I wash my hands of all responsibility for the needy pets.

Hopefully, my dad will be back by then. If not, they're going to be feeling awfully abandoned.

Now, don't misunderstand me. I'm very fond of these animals. I'm just not used to having so little of my time to myself. The cats and I do ok (they like a lot of attention, yes, but then they go off and find other things to do. Like sleeping. Or licking every accessible tap in the house, if you're Max. I'm not sure why he does that, but I suppose everyone needs a hobby), but Rikki? Ah, Rikki. I love you, but you're driving me nuts.

Like the pirate with the steering wheel on his fly, yes.

Don't worry if you didn't follow that one. Enough people did to make it worth the typing. For the rest of you: never mind.

It's not just the walking, although that gets old in a hurry when the temperature outside has been juuust low enough to give me a nasty rash every time we go out. No, it's the fact that the dog is daddy's little girl, is exceptionally good at letting me know that I'm not doing things the right way (if you read her bedtime stories you'd be corrected constantly. You know the type), and finds me extremely boring.

That last bit's just judging from the average daily pout tally. She's a champion pouter, this animal.

She also seems to think that I'm keeping my father locked up in my apartment. I've taken her down the highway (in the car, Smudgers) a couple of times so that I could go pick up the mail and water the plants, and each time we've gotten to the apartment parking lot she's been almost wild to come in with me. I didn't let her since I was only going to be a minute or two and it's a no-pets building (although, to be fair, nobody screams about short visits. Or at least they haven't so far), but she sure looked at me afterwards as though I'd made toast and eaten the whole piece without giving her even a corner.

Erm... the dog likes toast.

And pizza pops, apparently.

But that's another story altogether, and I'm tired of typing now.

Besides, it's almost time to go walk the dog.






Again.







Sigh.

Pointless photo of the day:

At least from me. I'm not sure what the Toronto office is planning today.

And anyway, I'm not likely to call someone else's photos pointless.

----------

For anyone new to the program, your friendly neighbourhood OLF (that would stand for Obsessive Little Freak, a title I've been carrying around with me for... well, for some time now. Not sure who to blame for it) has a bit of a thing for pattern and shape in photographs. In my fevered little brain the extension cord seemed to be making a neat design on the concrete, and that's why it got its picture taken.

That's also why the vast majority of my photos get deleted from my chosen storage medium (otherwise known as my nerdstick) after they're posted to the blog. I don't exactly take these things in a bid for immortality.

I suppose you can understand, then, why I find the whole digital photography thing so great. I love being able to take whatever stupid pictures I feel like and not worry about the fact that I'm going to be wasting money on developing an entire film's worth of inanity.

For me, photography always was in conflict with my inner cheapskate. Intellectually I understood that the only way to improve was to take many, many shots and experiment with settings and set-ups, but I never wanted to spend the coin to actually do it.

I have a decent SLR film camera, you know. Minolta. Camera, filters, tripod, fancy-ass multiple setting bounce flash...

I've gotten so much more use out of my auto-focus digital.

Cost is one big reason, yes, but so is disposability. I could go out right now and take 1200 shots of one snowbank if I wanted to (and by the way, isn't it completely unbelievable that I'm not exaggerating when I say 1200? Especially when you consider that ten years ago I would have been carefully rationing a 36 exposure film?) and decide to off all but one of them once I've previewed them.

And do it without guilt.

Wonderful.

What better way to develop technique? Even if you're a film snob, you have to admit that the ability to try out 1200 pictures' worth of angles, lighting, and exposures has got to improve a person's skills.

I mean, if a person was trying to improve them.

Personally, I'm mostly just looking for cool stuff to shoot.

Like extension cords.






Hey, if nothing else I've given you your wtf moment for the day, right?

I live to serve.

The Stonecutter

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 4 June 2004

A long time ago there was a stonecutter. The people of the village depended on him for stone for their houses and gardens. He was good at his job but it was hard work, and many times as he worked away with his chisel he'd wish he was anything but what he was.

One day as he chiselled at a stone, the sun was beating down so bright and so hot that the stonecutter cried out, "oh, how I wish I was the sun. I would shine down brightly until everyone would see that I was the most powerful thing in the universe. Then I would be happy."

Well, it just so happened that his guiding spirit had been watching and listening. It agreed to grant the stonecutter his desire, and the next thing he knew the stonecutter was the sun. He shone down on the people of the village to let them know it was time to work. He shone on the crops to make them grow. He warmed the whole earth with his light and gloried in his power.

Then one day a cloud drifted over in front of the sun. Try as he might, the sun couldn't make his light penetrate that cloud. The sun cried out, "oh, how I wish I was a cloud. I would travel wherever I wanted to and shade out the sun until everyone would see that I was the most powerful thing in the universe. Then I would be happy."

The guiding spirit heard the sun's wish, and the next thing he knew the sun was a cloud. He drifted happily through the sky, casting his shade wherever he desired. He danced with the wind and gloried in his power.

Then one day the cloud was joined by other clouds until they became a big, dark mass. Water started falling out of the cloud and joining the river below. The rushing river took the cloud water away as fast as it fell. Seeing this, the cloud cried, "oh, how I wish I was the river. I would travel over all the lands sweeping everything before me until everyone would see that I was the most powerful thing in the universe. Then I would be happy."

The guiding spirit heard the cloud's wish, and the next thing he knew the cloud was a river. He rushed headlong over the lands, carving steep banks and carrying along anything he fancied. He roared to the skies and gloried in his power.

Then one day he saw his path blocked by an enormous boulder. The rock caught up the water and made it double back on itself, causing the land to flood. Feeling this, the river cried, "oh, how I wish I was the boulder. I'd stand immobile and block anything coming my way until everyone would see that I was the most powerful thing in the universe. Then I would be happy."

The guiding spirit heard the river's wish, and the next thing he knew the river was a boulder. He stood gravely, impervious to sun, wind or rain. He laughed at the elements and gloried in his power.

Then one day he felt himself cracking and breaking apart. The boulder was shocked and cried out, "oh, how I wish I could be the thing that cracks a boulder. I would certainly, without a doubt, be the most powerful thing in the universe. Then I would be happy."

The guiding spirit heard the boulder's wish, and the next thing he knew the boulder...

Was a stonecutter.

I take photos too...

Mine are pointless rather than poetic, however.

Sorry, I was just feeling a little left out for a second there.

By the way, I don't take the camera with me when I walk the dog. To do so would be to imply that I would be allowed to stop for long enough to take a picture.

I should explain, shouldn't I?

The dog's part husky, that's all. Her idea of a walk is full steam ahead, captain. Which, as you can imagine, is fun for all involved when we're talking about February and icy streets.

We have enough snow now, by the way.

Anyway, I don't have much else to add. Not sure why I'm even posting, to be honest. Especially when the dog and I should be having lunch.





Get a feeling it's all about the dog at the moment? Well, I sure do.

Two paths diverged ....

Or ~ how to drive a person with two dogs crazy.

This is what I do when I'm not in my right mind, under a throw on the couch, reading. Now my reading can go from important current works on the economy or world occurrences to total trash to ease the mind and put things in perspective, ie: people are weird. I may have mentioned that belief of mine before.

When I venture out into the world which matters - and that would be my world of course - I take a camera and two dogs. Often one of the two would rather stay in her crate, thankyouverymuchbuthaveagreat time .... ah, but no, she's made to tag along so we don't have to make a complete day of finding me at the park. I mean I like 'em both and all but ....

Oh and if you want a debate on the use of crates don't bother me with it. As I look to my right, the pup in question is STILL curled up with her pillow. The pillow's name is Phil. The name Phil came from the shape of the pillow and I'll leave that as a puzzle for you to work on rather than discuss crates which are irreplaceable. The POINT - and sometimes there is one - is that the door remains open; she just likes cozy quiet time with Phil.

So, yes. This photo was taken Thursday jusssst as the toonie-sized flakes were abating. I'm sure you can look up "toonie" if you've a mind to. It's early. I don't link this early. Why, I rarely type this early if avoidable.

In fact, I think I'll quit now.


You're welcome. But do come again.

As opposed to "come again?!" yes.

Auriga (constellation)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 15 Nov 2003

This constellation's a bit of a puzzle if you're doing mythology. It only has about ten stories that could go with it. To top it off, it's called Auriga the Charioteer but most books show it as a shepherd holding a lamb or a kid. Soooo... since I'm not in the mood for shepherds I've decided to go with the charioteer, or at least a charioteer.

One of the charioteers from ancient Greek myth was Erichthonius, mythological king of Athens.

It seems that at one time the lame god Hephaestus (Vulcan, to the Romans) had asked for Athene as his wife. Athene was disgusted by his appearance and escaped his advances, causing him to "spill his seed" on the ground. This impregnated Gaia (Mother Earth) and Erichthonius was born. Gaia was somewhat put off by this accidental child, so Athene agreed to foster him. She took him to her sanctuary on the Athenian acropolis and had King Cecrops' daughters look after him. There are many stories of his upbringing, but I don't think I'll go into them.

Erichthonius, with Athene's help, later became king of Athens himself. Because of his connections with the goddess of the earth, the god of the smithy, and the goddess of wisdom, he was able to teach the people many things that improved their lives. Erichthonius was said to have been the creator of the horse-drawn chariot. He also showed the people of Athens how to improve their crop yields by tilling the soil, and how to work in silver. Silver was considered to be more important than gold.

Erichthonius was also said to have instituted the Panathenaea (Athens' major festival) in honour of his foster mother.

Because of his vast contributions to humanity, Erichthonius was made a god after his death and the constellation Auriga (according to this story, anyway) celebrates his achievements. The Erechtheion on the Athenian acropolis possibly started out as a temple to him, although he was later conflated with Erechtheus. Things get kind of confusing, there. It's probably the same person.

Delphinus (constellation)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 1 Nov 2003

Arion was a poet and musician (in those days they went hand in hand) born in Lesbos. His great skill had won him the favour of King Periander of Corinth, and he spent a great deal of time as a teacher and court musician in that city.

One day the poet came to the king to ask his permission to leave Corinth for a time. There was to be a great contest in Sicily, and Arion wanted to try his skill against the Mediterranean's best poets. King Periander reluctantly gave his assent in return for a promised return, and soon the poet was headed across the sea to the competition.

Arion's poems far surpassed anything else offered at the contest, and the poet was pleased and amazed to find himself showered with not only the stated prize but many other gifts besides. The Sicilians begged Arion to stay with them, but he remembered King Periander's kindness and the promise he'd made to return to Corinth. Loaded with riches, he set sail on a ship bound back to his adopted home town and dreamed of the proud return he would make.

The sailors on board the ship, however, had other plans. They couldn't help but notice Arion's rich cargo and were soon scheming to have it for themselves.

One day, as the poet sat gazing over the waves, they approached him from behind, bound him, and told him they were going to kill him for his money. Arion offered them everything he had except for his cythara (musical instrument) in exchange for his life, but the sailors didn't want a witness to their crimes and refused.

Arion pleaded with his captors to be allowed one more song before his death, and the men agreed. The poet took up his harp and sang his sweetest song in hopes of melting the sailors' hard hearts, but he could see it was in vain. Choosing his own end, he finished his song and leaped out of the boat into the sea.

The sailors were surprised by the poet's sudden disappearance, but rather than look for him they decided to let him drown. Either way, they would keep the money.

Unbeknownst to the wicked sailors, Arion's last song had attracted attention from Poseidon, god of the sea. As the poet thrashed in the water, he felt himself lifted mysteriously back up to the surface. Poseidon had sent a dolphin to take him to safety, and before Arion would have thought it possible he found himself returned to the harbour of Corinth.

King Periander was naturally very glad to see Arion back in his city, and when he heard the story of the evil sailors and the poet's magical rescue he was astounded. He vowed to get revenge on the sailors when their ship eventually returned to Corinth.

Sure enough, a day later the ship pulled into harbour. The king went down to the docks pretending to greet the poet, and when the poet wasn't to be found he demanded that the crew tell him any news they had of Arion. The sailors were ready for this, however, and told the king that Arion had been so well received in Sicily that he'd decided to settle there, a rich and honoured man.

Periander listened to this story carefully, then asked the sailors if they'd mind repeating it to a friend of his. With that, the "drowned" poet appeared before his captors. The men were so startled by this that they confessed to their crimes at once.

The king saw to the punishment of the sailors (read that as: he had them executed), Arion was restored to his riches, and Corinth was enriched by his songs for a very long time.

Poseidon's faithful dolphin was rewarded by being placed in the heavens. Delphinus is often spoken of as a lucky constellation in honour of the lucky poet.

Turn your back for a minute ....

.... and the whole darned blog moves.

The pointless photo of the day comes to you via a freak snowstorm that made these cones either a lesson in macro-photography or a nifty Christmas card illustration ... or you know, just pointless after all.









I do rather like the water droplets though.




I wonder if the man looking out the picture-window to his backyard is over wondering who the oddly-bundled-up creature was, taking a picture of who knows what, from his angle. I mean I'd certainly wonder if someone was pointing a camera in the general direction of my patio.






On second thought, no. More likely, I'd just accept people are weird. They are, you know.

I think the previous blog proved the point and heaven knows, this one is well on the way to reinforcing the notion.

Erm, not a judgement you understand. I'm just sayin'

Why, yes, it is time to walk the pups. I'll just be going now.


oh and clicking on the second one actually shows you what I'm on about with my new toy camera

Um... breakfast?

Not the pointless photo, obviously. It's not breakfast. It's a telephone pole.

And why a picture of a telephone pole?

See above re: pointless.

Anyway, I'm trying to come up with a quick topic since the dog will need to go out soon (I haven't killed the dog yet, for anyone keeping track, but I've been close to it once or twice) and as I've already wasted so much time moving the zodiac stories over here from the old blog I haven't really got any farther than thinking about breakfast.

I know.

But there are only so many stories in the archive, after all. Eventually the blog will have to go back to being ALL POINTLESS ALL THE TIME!!!!!

I had crumpets for breakfast today. Crumpets with margarine (there isn't any butter in this house. Don't you judge me) and blueberry preserves. The good kind, with whole fruit. Oh, and I had a glass of mango/passionfruit juice to go with. All in all, a pretty good breakfast.

Crumpets are fairly weird, though, don't you think? They're not really like anything else. I'd say they're almost like eating a tenderized sponge, but seeing that I actually rather like crumpets I should think of a better way to describe them.

Too bad I'm not having much luck, then.

For those who have never had the pleasure and are now curious about eating tenderized sponges with blueberry preserves on top, this recipe is a bit more complete than the one that was on the Wikipedia crumpet link. Does it work? No idea. I usually just buy my crumpets and heat them up in the toaster.

The dog seems to be getting restless upstairs, if the thumping I hear is any indication. Or maybe she's just chewing on the cats. That could be.

Nah, not enough hissing.

Guess I should call it a post, at any rate. I was going to talk about my grandmother and her occasional crumpet cravings, but that'll have to wait now.

I know you're all heartbroken.





Ah, go back to reading the stories already.

Pisces (constellation)

Originally posted to Shrubbery,18 Oct 2003

Pisces, the twelfth zodiacal constellation, is said to represent two fish tied together at the tails.

At one point in the fight between the Olympians and the Titans, Aphrodite (goddess of love) and her son (or, some say, attendant) Eros were threatened by the hundred-headed giant Typhon (father of such delights as the Hydra, the Nemean Lion, the Chimera, the Sphinx, Cerberus, and Ladon). In order to prevent the Titan from separating them, the two gods tied themselves together by the ankles using Aphrodite's golden girdle (girdle in this case being basically a belt, as opposed to a Playtex prison) and then jumped into the Nile river to escape. They changed into fish and were able to swim away to safety.

Incidentally, Zeus later buried the monster Typhon under Mount Etna. It's said that his stirrings and rumblings are responsible for its volcanic activity even now.

Aquarius (constellation)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 8 Oct 2003

Aquarius is the 11th zodiacal constellation and is said by some to represent Ganymede, cupbearer to the Olympians.

Ganymede was originally a young prince of Troy who had been sent to live as a shepherd for a while (as was the custom, apparently). One day he was spied by Zeus, who immediately fell in love with him (originally this was understood as a sexual love, but the Romans and later the Victorians were careful to avoid that part of the story). Zeus made up his mind to bring the youth to Olympus, so one day when Ganymede was out watching his flock Zeus sent a magnificent rooster to crow away and distract the boy. Ganymede was filled with amazement at the sight of the bird and began chasing it to bring it back to the farmyard.

As the chase lead the boy away from his companions, Zeus' eagle Aquila suddenly swooped out of the sky and grabbed Ganymede. By the time the other shepherds heard the youth's cries it was too late -- Ganymede was lost to them.

Zeus had intended to make Ganymede immortal and have him serve at his table, but there was one major problem. His jealous wife Hera had a daughter named Hebe who was already serving as cupbearer. Some of the stories say that Hebe retired gracefully to marry the hero/demigod Heracles, but some say she was maliciously tripped up one day as she was serving the Olympians and was forced to turn her cup over to Ganymede in shame. Either way, you can imagine that Hera was not impressed.

Despite her best plans, however, Ganymede was soon Zeus' constant companion. He was known to the people of earth as a symbol of compassion. Once when the earth was suffering a terrible drought Ganymede pleaded with his master Zeus to be allowed to pour just one cupful from his magic chalice to relieve the world a tiny bit. Zeus, touched by this kindness, gave Ganymede leave to pour the rains over the earth and end the drought. This is why Aquarius is usually represented as a man pouring a large container of water down from the sky.

The constellation Aquarius used to mark the start of the rainy season for many different ancient cultures.

Capricorn (constellation)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 11 Oct 2003

There are a few different stories here. One of them states that Capricorn, the tenth zodiacal constellation, represents Amaltheia the sea-goat (half goat, half fish).

Chronus was, at one time, the chief of the Greek Titans. He had been warned that he would be overthrown by a child of his, so each time his wife Rhea gave birth he forced her to give him the child which he would then swallow.

This went on for some time until Rhea gave birth to Zeus. Not wanting to lose another child, she and her mother Gaia spirited the baby boy off to Crete where he was suckled and protected by Amaltheia. To appease Chronus, Rhea and Gaia disguised a rock in swaddling clothes and gave it to the god. Mistaking the rock for his child he swallowed it whole.

When Zeus had grown up he was able to defeat his father (loooooong story). He forced Chronus to regurgitate his brothers and sisters, who then became the senior Olympian gods.

In some versions of the story the goat's skin is later made into the aegis, Zeus' shield (some reward, that). In others, Zeus as a child accidentally breaks off one of Amaltheia's horns in play. Feeling badly about hurting his benefactor, Zeus gives the horn the ability to grant its owner unlimited food and drink. It becomes known as the Cornucopia or Horn of Plenty.

Sagittarius (constellation)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 19 Oct 2003

Sagittarius, the ninth zodiacal constellation, represents a centaur, the half-man half-horse beast of Greek mythology. The centaurs arose when Ixion, king of Thessaly, lusted after the goddess Hera. Zeus caught wind of this and sent a cloud representing her in her place. The result of this tryst was Kentauros, who in turn mated with the mares of Thessaly and created the race of centaurs.

Exactly which centaur is represented by Sagittarius is debatable. Some say it is the wise Chiron, teacher of Achilles and Jason (he might be the constellation Centaurus, though). Others say it is a drunk, violent centaur battling with the Lapiths.

Another centaur story involves the hero Heracles. His second wife Deianira had been abducted by the centaur Nessus after he had offered to carry her across the river Euenus on his back. Heracles shot the centaur with a poisoned arrow, and in revenge the dying Nessus told Deianira to save some of his blood to use as a love potion if she ever suspected Heracles of being unfaithful. Later, when Deianira suspected another woman of coming between her and her husband, she washed a piece of Heracles' clothing in the blood to win him back. When he put it on, however, the blood poisoned him. In his agonies Heracles built a large funeral pyre and threw himself on the flames. Since he was part immortal he couldn't die, but Zeus rescued him from his pain and took him up to Olympus as a god.

Scorpius (constellation)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 19 Oct 2003

Scorpius, the eighth zodiacal constellation, represents a giant scorpion.

You'll find one version of the story of Orion here, but the story has a couple of different endings. In one, the brash hunter claimed he would show his prowess by destroying all of the animals on earth. In another, Orion grew bored with waiting for the virgin goddess Artemis to marry him so he raped one of her attendants. Either way, the goddess decided he had to be destroyed. Since he would have been able to fight off any of the bigger animals, she sent a scorpion to sneak up and sting him fatally on the foot.

The scorpion was placed in the sky for his service, but he and his enemy Orion are never found in the sky at the same time (Scorpius is in the opposite quadrant).

Libra (constellation)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 18 Oct 2003

Poor Libra... no exciting, romantic story. Fact of the matter is, the seventh zodiacal constellation was probably thought to resemble scales because the sun used to be in Libra (this would be thousands of years ago -- things have changed since) at around the time of the Autumnal Equinox. In other words, at a time when day and night were equal or balanced.

There is, I suppose, some connection with the traditional Scales of Justice... but that's not exactly exciting or romantic either.

Virgo (constellation)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 26 oct 2003

If I'm sticking with the whole Greek theme here, the sixth zodiacal constellation represents Persephone, goddess of the Underworld.

Persephone was the daughter of Demeter, goddess of fruitfulness and the harvest. Demeter absolutely doted on her beautiful daughter.

One day, when Persephone and the Ocean nymphs (the Oceanids) were out collecting flowers, Persephone's beauty caught the eye of Hades, god of the Underworld. He had been wishing for a wife, so he caused a great hole to open up in the earth's crust, drove his chariot up through it, snatched the girl, and closed up the hole before anyone realised what had happened. All the nymphs knew was that their companion had vanished.

When Demeter heard that her daughter was missing, she started wandering the earth looking for her. She refused to have anything to do with her usual province of the fields until her daughter was back in her arms.

Soon all of the crops were withering and the people on earth were likely to starve. Zeus sent the messenger god Hermes to the Underworld to demand Persephone's return, and Hades agreed under one condition. They would have to prove that Persephone hadn't had anything to eat or drink during her stay in his kingdom, because anything which passed her lips would connect her to Hades forever.

Now, Persephone had been so full of grief at her abduction that she had been unable to eat a thing, but when the news of her pending release reached her she was so relieved that she began to feel hungry. Picking up a lowly pomegranate, she unfortunately had swallowed six (or some say, three) seeds before her attendants could stop her.

Because of this, Persephone can only return to her mother for half (or three quarters) of the year and must spend the other half (or a quarter, in warmer climates) as Queen of the Underworld. While she is gone, her mother Demeter mourns her loss and refuses to allow the plants to grow, thus causing winter.

Virgo is often represented as holding a stalk of wheat (the star Spica) in her hand, symbolising her connection with her mother's crops.

Leo (constellation)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 13 Oct 2003

There are several stories about Leo, the fifth zodiacal constellation. Most of them agree that Leo represents a lion; the sticking point is which lion. I'll go with the Nemean Lion.

This particular story involves another of the Twelve Labours of Heracles. The first task Heracles had to accomplish was that of killing the lion which had been terrorising the plain of Nemea.

Heracles went forth with his usual weapons to track down the lion, but as the lion charged at him he discovered that its skin was impervious to sharp objects. Heracles' arrows and sword were easily deflected. Finally the hero had to discard all of his weapons and strangle the enormous cat with his bare hands.

Once the lion was dead Heracles decided to skin it and keep the hide. Again he found that no knife could cut the skin. After many attempts Heracles ended up using the lion's own claws to cut and prepare the hide.

Heracles wore the hide (using the lion's head as a hood) on the rest of his adventures, as the indestructible skin was able to protect him better than any armour would have. In ancient Greek art Heracles is generally represented as wearing the lion's skin.

Cancer (constellation)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 10 Oct 2003

Cancer, the fourth zodiacal constellation, was said by the Greeks to represent a crab sent by Hera to pester Heracles by nipping at his feet while he was trying to kill the many-headed Hydra.

Killing the Hydra had been one of the twelve tasks (known as the Twelve Labours of Heracles) that Heracles had to complete for King Eurystheus of Mycenae as a penance for having killed his own wife (Megara) and children. It was hardly his fault -- jealous Hera had driven him mad.

Killing the Hydra was the second of the twelve labours. At first he'd tried severing the heads with his sword, but each time a head was cut off two more grew back. It looked like an endless battle until Heracles hit upon the idea of having his nephew Iolaus stand ready with a torch to burn each stump as soon as a head was cut off. The cauterised stumps couldn't grow back. The final head was an immortal one, so Heracles trapped it under a rock when he couldn't sever it.

When Hera had noticed that Heracles was winning, she sent the crab Cancer to stop him. The crab, however, was no match for the hero and was crushed to death. Hera had him placed in the sky as a reward for his service.

Gemini (constellation)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 12 Oct 2003

Gemini, the third zodiacal constellation, represents the twins Castor and Poydeuces (Pollux), known as the Dioscuri. Their mother Leda had been seduced by Zeus in the form of a swan and later gave birth to two eggs: one containing Helen (of Troy) and Clytemnestra, and one containing Castor and Polydeuces. One of each pair was fathered by Zeus (Helen and Polydeuces) and one of each was fathered by Leda's husband King Tyndareus (Clytemnestra and Castor).

The two boys were very close to one another and inseparable companions later in life. They were both famous as heroes. Polydeuces was known as a skilled boxer, and Castor as a horseman.

The two had many adventures including rescuing their sister Helen after she was abducted by Theseus (this was way before the Trojan War abduction...) and joining Jason's Argonauts in search of the Golden Fleece.

The Dioscuri fell in love with and abducted the daughters of Leucippus, which caused his nephews Idas and Lynceus to come after them in battle. Castor, being mortal, was killed and his immortal brother grieved incessantly. When Zeus offered Polydeuces the opportunity to live with the gods on Olympus Polydeuces replied that he could have no joy of it while his beloved brother was dead. Zeus agreed to allow him partial life in return for a partial sacrifice of immortality from Polydeuces, so for a time the brothers each alternately spent a day in Hades and a day on Olympus.

The brothers were later placed together in the sky as an example of filial devotion.

Taurus (constellation)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 25 Oct 2003

Taurus, the second zodiacal constellation, has been seen as a bull by many ancient civilisations. The Greeks were no exception, and since I've been using mostly Greek stories for the zodiac so far I'll stick with them.

One story tells that the bull was put in the sky to act as a challenger for the bored Orion. Another mention of Taurus concerns Europa.

Europa was the beautiful (aren't they all in these stories?) daughter of King Agenor of Tyros. The god Zeus caught a glimpse of her and (as usual) fell in love.

One day when Europa was walking along the shore with a group of her friends and attendants, Zeus appeared amongst them in the guise of a magnificent white bull. The others ran away, but the bull appeared so tame to Europa that she went up to pet it. Suddenly she found her hands stuck to the bull's horns. Zeus ran straight into the sea and swam at high speed with the terrified girl unable to get off of his back.

When they reached the island of Crete Zeus transformed back into his normal shape and confessed his love for Europa. Together they had three children (Minos, Sarpedon, and Rhadamanthys) who each had significant stories of their own. I might tell them one of these days...

Before Zeus left her, he gave Europa three gifts: the bronze man, Talos, to act as a guardian; a dog, Laelaps, which could bring down any quarry; and a javelin which never missed any target. Europa later married Asterion, King of Crete, who accepted her children as his own.

By the way, when Europa disappeared her father sent his sons to find her, telling them not to return without their sister. As it was an impossible task, the three brothers became exiles. Cadmus founded Thebes, Phoenix founded Phoenicia, and Cilix founded Cilicia.

According to some stories, Zeus ran all over the continent of Europe (as the bull) with Europa on his back. The continent was later named for her.

Aries (constellation)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 9 Oct 2003

Aries is the first zodiacal constellation and is said to represent the golden ram.

King Athamas of Orchomenus (or all of Boetia, depending on who you read) had sent away his former wife (the nymph Nephele) to marry Ino. Ino was extremely jealous of her stepchildren Phrixus and Helle and was soon plotting to have them destroyed.

It happened that the land was suffering through a famine, and Ino managed to bribe the oracle to twist her words in such a way that Athamas would believe he had to sacrifice his children to bring rain. The preparations for the sacrifice were already in full swing when Nephele begged Zeus to somehow rescue her children from this fate.

Just as the children were about to die, a magic golden ram came running through the procession and boosted the two children onto its back, taking off at a gallop and flying through the air to take them away from the danger.

The ram flew quickly toward safety in the land of Colchis, but as they passed over the narrow strip of water between the two countries young Helle lost her grip and fell to her death. To this day the strait is called the Hellespont.

Phrixus soon landed in Colchis and was adopted as a son by King Aeetes there. In thankfulness Phrixus sacrificed the golden ram (I guess that's one way to thank your rescuer...) and gave its fleece to the king. He in turn hung it in a sacred grove and set an unsleeping dragon over it to guard it.

Many years later the golden fleece became the quest of Jason and the Argonauts. And no, I'm not going to type that whole story -- you can look it up on your own if you like.

Aquila (constellation)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 8 Oct 2003

Not a story as such, but I wanted to tell a bit about Aquila because I'll need him for one of the other stories.

In Greek mythology Aquila the eagle was the symbol and messenger of the god Zeus. Sometimes Zeus was said to appear as an eagle, and sometimes he merely sent the eagle.

Two of the main places to find Aquila are in the stories of Ganymede and Prometheus. In Ganymede's tale the eagle was sent by Zeus to bring the youth to Olympus to serve as cupbearer for the gods.

Prometheus brings out the more vicious side of the god, however. As punishment for having stolen fire and given it to humanity, Prometheus was chained to a mountain and Aquila was sent to rip him open and eat his liver. Since the titan Prometheus was immortal, the wounds healed every night but the eagle reopened them each day.

Prometheus was said to have suffered this torture until Heracles (Hercules) killed the bird in order to learn from Prometheus how to obtain the golden apples of the Hesperides.

Ever notice how one story always seems to lead to another? Makes a person wonder how the ancient Greeks ever really got anything done.

Vision

We're all fascinated by things that directly affect us, or at least we should be. That would explain why I find different ways of seeing so interesting.

By different ways of seeing I mean both physically seeing and mentally comprehending.

For me, seeing is an issue. I'm nearsighted, astigmatic, and very dependent on my glasses. That means, however, that I can see a totally different world just by taking the bloody things off.

Those of you who can't do that wouldn't have any idea how much that shapes a person's life.

Imagine for a moment that glasses had never been invented. After all, humanity did get by without them for thousands of years. If they didn't exist at all, people like me would have no clue that the world was other than blurry. It would be easy for me to assume that everyone around me was only seeing clearly for a metre or two around them, and that distances were nothing but blocks of fuzzy colour to everybody.

If somebody told me otherwise, I probably wouldn't believe him. After all, I'd have evidence to the contrary just by having a look for myself. And if you can't believe your own eyes, why should you trust someone else's?

Physical point of view can't help but affect (or, perhaps create) mental point of view.

If I'd never been fitted for glasses my world would be small. As it is I'm already somewhat preoccupied with pattern and detail, but if I'd never been shown by an optometrist that it was possible to see differently with glasses than I could unassisted, I would have been completely obsessed by those details. I would have lived with the things that I could get close enough to to make sense of, and I would have convinced myself that anything else probably wasn't important. At the very least, big things would have been cause for headaches.

Hmmm.

To a certain extent they are anyway.

So here's the question: is it possible to escape the vision you're born with? I'm speaking on two levels there, in case anyone was wondering.

I can wear glasses or contacts or get laser surgery to improve my sight, but does that so-called correction actually change a brain that's grown up thinking of itself as nearsighted and astigmatic? The moment I take my glasses off, as I said before, I see a different world. Many would say I see less, but how do you know that it's not just other? I see less fine detail with my glasses, but I don't see the big picture without them.

Which one's the true view?






Damned if I know, really.

Cygnus (constellation)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 4 Oct 2003

Phaeton was a youth who had grown up without a father, and because of this he took a great deal of ribbing from the other young men of the town. His best friend Cygnus always stepped up to defend him, saying, "perhaps we shall all be surprised by his lineage when it is known."

On his sixteenth birthday Phaeton's mother told him that as he was now no longer a boy she would grant him anything it was in her power to give. Phaeton thought for barely a moment before replying, "Mother, of all things on earth I would most like to know of my father. Why have you never spoken of him? Was he some thief or evil man of whom I should be ashamed?" "My boy," Clymene answered, "I'm far from being ashamed of your father and you shouldn't be either. I've only kept his name from you out of fear that you'd seek him out before the proper time. In truth, your father is none other than Phoebus, the god who drives the sun across the sky each day. It is now more than time that you should travel to his land and learn of your heritage, although I feel deep sadness at the thought of letting you go."

With that, Clymene outfitted her son for his journey to India, land of the sun. With barely a stop to say goodbye to Cygnus, Phaeton hurried on his way to finally meet his father.

The journey went quickly with such high spirits as his, and soon he found himself at the front door of the Palace of the Sun. The attendants there seemed to be expecting him, and he didn't even have to introduce himself before he was led in through the brightly polished golden doors. Once in the audience chamber he found the light to be so bright he could barely look around him.

Suddenly he heard a voice say, "you are welcome here, my son." The overwhelming light shifted somewhat as Phoebus removed the crown of sun rays from his head, set them aside, and came to embrace Phaeton. The father and son were soon getting to know each other over a tour of the fabulous palace followed by a feast literally fit for the gods.

"And now, son," said Phoebus after the meal had been cleared, "I see you have assumed the mantle of manhood. You need a gift worthy of the occasion, so I will offer anything you desire at this moment. I only ask that you choose wisely, for some gifts bring more trouble than pleasure."

Phaeton looked around him at the golden marvels of the palace, then said, "Father, I wish only one thing. All my life I have been made fun of for lacking a father. Prove me your true son and let me drive the Sun Chariot for one day. That will show all those people once and for all that I need not be ashamed of who I am."

Phoebus frowned deeply and begged his son to choose another gift. "Since I promised you anything you desire I must allow this, but be warned. The Sun Chariot is extremely hard to control and is pulled by divine horses who are barely tamed. The road across the sky is not clearly marked and is surrounded by all of the monsters that populate the stars. It isn't easy for me to drive the route, and I'm a god. It would be next to impossible for you, and I can't guarantee what might happen."

Phaeton wouldn't be dissuaded, though. His mind was full of the glory of driving the Sun across the sky. How everyone would stare and wonder! He insisted that the only thing he desired was to drive the chariot, and his father could do nothing but relent.

The next day the god struggled to hitch the nearly-wild horses to the gleaming chariot, all the while giving his son strict instructions on how to follow the path in the sky. Phaeton barely heard him, his head was so full of the thought of adventure. Finally it was time to begin. Phoebus showed Phaeton how to properly hold the reins, and the chariot was soon headed up into the sky.

At first Phaeton enjoyed the ride and the incredible view. The chariot bumped along its usual course, bringing sunrise to the world. Soon, though, the mischievous horses noticed that their normal load seemed much lighter. They decided to take a new course and started for the heavens.

As the horses ran toward the horrifying monsters of the sky Phaeton tried desperately to call them back to the path. The horses wouldn't obey their new master, however, and had soon dragged the Sun Chariot up so high that the plants and animals of the earth were beginning to freeze. Ice even formed upon the Mediterranean, freezing the fishes.

Now the horses took a new turn and barrelled toward the earth. Phaeton was terrified as he watched the ground come closer and closer but was powerless to do a thing about it. The Sun Chariot came so close to the earth that it scorched the Sahara into a desert and set entire mountains and forests afire. All living things were in danger of incineration, and even Poseidon in his ocean was beginning to boil. "Brother," he called out to Zeus, "if you are angry with me at least tell me why you have sent the Sun Chariot to destroy my kingdom!"

Zeus heard the cries of the Sea God and the people on earth and knew there was only one way to prevent a fiery death for all. He called for one of his thunderbolts and sent it flying straight toward the Sun Chariot, knocking it back to the path and sending Phaeton tumbling to the earth, his hair streaming with fire.

Faithful Cygnus had been watching his friend's sorry adventure, and when he saw Phaeton fall into the sea he swam out as fast as he could to try to save him. He dived down into the water again and again, hoping to find the spot where the youth had landed. Seeing that he was in danger of drowning himself and that he wasn't about to give up, Zeus took pity on him and changed him into the beautiful white bird that today we call the swan.

You can find him up in the summer sky to this day as a tribute to his faithfulness.

Fisher Brings Spring (Fisher Visits Skyland)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 28 Sept 2003

Here's a different version of Ursa Major from the Anishinabe (Chippewa, Ojibway) people:

A long time ago when there was nothing but winter Fisher was known as a mighty hunter and a wise one. However, since everything was so cold even he had trouble finding enough food to feed his family.

One day his son decided to go out hunting himself since he was so hungry. Young Fisher was lucky enough to find a squirrel and was just about to eat him when the squirrel cried, "Little Brother, please don't eat me. If you let me go I'll tell you how we could all have warmth and never go hungry." Young Fisher was very hungry but he decided to listen to what the squirrel had to say. "Tell me, Grandfather, how can we be warm and never go hungry?"

"Little Brother," the squirrel said, "when you go home you must sit in the corner and cry. When your mother asks you what's wrong, you mustn't answer her but just keep crying. If she brings you food you mustn't eat it. When your father returns and asks you what's wrong, tell him you are cold and hungry. He will know what to do."

When Young Fisher returned home he did just what Grandfather Squirrel had said. He sat down in a corner and began to weep. His mother soon noticed and said, "young one, why do you cry?" but Young Fisher didn't answer. "I will fix you some food," she said, but when she brought the food Young Fisher wouldn't touch it and stayed in the corner crying. When his father came home, the mother said, "something is wrong with the child. He won't eat and does nothing but cry."

Fisher asked his son, "why you do weep so?". Young Fisher answered, "Father, I am so cold and always so hungry. If only someone could make the world warm I would not cry." Fisher frowned and became very thoughtful. "What you ask is a difficult thing and I have not wanted to do it, but you are right. I must bring warmth to the world. I will need some help."

With that, Fisher talked to his friends amongst the animals and soon he, Lynx, Otter, and Wolverine were ready to set off on a journey to bring warmth.

Fisher told them they would have to travel to the highest mountain to get close to the sky. They trekked for days and days until they reached the mountains, and then they climbed and climbed and climbed until they could almost climb no more. Finally they reached the top of the mountain that was closest to the sky.

Fisher said, "now we must work very hard. We must crack the sky so that we can enter the Skyland and bring back some of their warmth to the world. Who will try to crack the sky?"

Lynx was the first to volunteer, and he leaped up as hard as he could to break the sky. The sky was too hard for him, though, and he fell back to the mountain unconscious.

Next, Otter tried to crack the sky. He leaped up as hard as he could, but he just bounced off and slid all the way back down the mountain in the snow. To this day all his cousins and brothers slide in the snow just like that.

Now it was Wolverine's turn. He gathered all his strength, jumped at the sky, and cracked it a tiny little bit. When he saw the crack he was ready to try again and again and again, and soon there was a crack big enough for him and for Fisher to enter the Skyland.

The two of them crept through the crack in the sky and saw a very large village. It was pleasant and warm and everywhere around them was green and flowers. In the village every house had a cage beside it, and every cage had wonderfully coloured creatures who sang sweet songs. "We must let them out," said Fisher, and he and Wolverine unlocked all the cages. The animals in the cages all flew down through the crack to the earth, and that is how we came to have birds.

"Now we must make the sky hole bigger so the warmth can enter it," said Fisher. Wolverine and Fisher worked at enlarging the hole until finally it was so big that Wolverine fell through it, followed by half the warmth of the sky. However, the Sky People soon noticed that their warmth was disappearing and they grabbed their weapons to go and kill the thief.

Fisher soon spotted the Sky People coming after him but he had no time to slip through the hole in the sky. He noticed a large tree in the middle of the village and he climbed it to hide in the very top branches. The Sky People shot their arrows at Fisher but not a one hit him. Finally the best hunter took his aim and fired, hitting Fisher dead on.

Poor Fisher fell to earth and the Sky People closed up the crack in the sky before all the warmth could escape. That is why we only have enough warmth for half of the year.

Fisher didn't die, though. For his bravery he was put in the sky and for half the year you can see him climbing up to Skyland. For the other half of the year he falls towards earth on his back, just as he did when the Sky People shot him.

Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, Bootes, and Canes Venatici (constellations)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 26 Sept 2003

Callisto was a beautiful woman (aren't they all in these stories) who unfortunately caught the eye of Zeus, king of all the gods. Zeus had a habit of falling for mortal women, and let's just say his wife Hera wasn't thrilled with the whole process.

When Callisto's son Arcas was born, Hera decided she was going to punish the woman for, er, hanging around her husband. One day when Callisto was out walking in the forest she suddenly felt odd. When she put her hand to her face to see if she was getting a fever her hand seemed very wrong. Pulling it back to have a look, she was astonished to find that it was huge and hairy with frighteningly long claws. She rushed to a still pond to have a look at herself and found that instead of a lovely face she had a horrid, long, slobbery jaw. The woman screamed, but all that came out was a terrifying roar. Hera had turned her into a huge bear! Callisto was so afraid of her new self that she ran off into the forest before anyone could see her.

Years passed and Arcas grew into a fine young man. Callisto hadn't had the courage to try to tell her son what had happened but she still longed to see him and spent most of her time at the edge of the village waiting for a glimpse of her boy. The other animals in the forest were naturally afraid of the huge bear, and bit by bit moved farther away from the village for their own safety.

The problem was that the people of the village depended on hunting to feed themselves, and the hunters were finding it harder and harder to find game near the village. No one could figure out why the animals had left (Callisto always ran and hid whenever she spied villagers nearing her) until one day a returning hunter got a look at the bear pacing at the edge of the forest. The bear must have scared away all the game!

A village meeting was called, and the most skilled hunters were sent out to kill the bear that was frightening their food. Among them was Arcas, who had become one of the better hunters even though he was still fairly young.

The men headed out in search of the bear, but when Callisto saw her son coming toward her she forgot for a moment what she looked like and ran to him crying, "son! Son! Do you know me?" To the hunters, though, this sounded like vicious growling and roaring, and even the bravest among them was soon running for his life as the bear came closer.

All but Arcas.

Arcas was terrified, but as he knew how important it was to his village he stood his ground, nocked an arrow, took aim...

Well, just about this time Zeus finally remembered his old flame Callisto and saw what trouble she was in. Before Arcas could kill his own mother Zeus changed him into a bear as well (it made sense to Zeus...). Callisto was happily reunited with her boy and could finally tell him why she had disappeared. For his part, Arcas was bewildered at first but soon accepted his new form.

The two bears lived happily together in the forest for a while, but Hera soon realised that her plan to have Arcas kill Callisto had been foiled. Hera was extremely good at holding a grudge, so she soon made new plans to kill the bears. She sent the hunter Bootes and his hunting dogs to track the two bears down. The dogs hassled the bears through the forest to point of exhaustion until Zeus noticed what was going on (he'd been... erm... somewhat distracted). He reached down, grabbed the bears by their tails, and hauled them up into the sky where they'd be safe. The weight was a bit much for those stubby tails, though, and the bears in the sky have stretched-out tails to this day because of the trip up there.

Now, Callisto and Arcas were actually quite happy up in the sky but Hera was furious! Not only had her plans been spoiled, but now the beautiful Callisto and her son were being admired every night by the people on earth. Hera went to her brother Poseidon (the sea god) and asked him to send his waters up to the sky to drown the two bears. Poseidon knew better than to go against the will of Zeus but he offered his sister a compromise. He pulled the seas down and away from the part of the sky where the bears were living, so that to this day they can never get a drink (that is, they never set in the northern hemisphere) even though most other sky pictures enter the water each and every night.

Cassiopeia, Cepheus, Andromeda, Perseus, Pegasus, and Cetus (constellations)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 21 Sept 2003

Cassiopeia was the queen of ancient Aethiopia. Her husband Cepheus, while having a somewhat heroic past, had become a bit of a weak-willed dimwit in his later life and let Cassiopeia get away with whatever she wanted. You know the type.

Cassiopeia was an extremely beautiful woman, but unfortunately she knew it and obsessed over it. She sought out all the best cosmetics and applications to ensure that she'd always be beautiful, and she continually boasted about just how beautiful she was. One day she proclaimed that she was the most beautiful woman in the city, and since she was the queen everyone was quick to agree with her. Soon this wasn't good enough, so she proclaimed herself the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. Again, since she was the queen everyone found it easiest just to agree.

This was fine for a while, but Cassiopeia's vanity needed something more. She had her messengers sent far and wide to tell everyone in the kingdom that she had been proclaimed more beautiful than the daughters of Nereus. Now, Nereus was a sea god and his daughters (the Nereids) were immortal sea nymphs. They didn't take too kindly to Cassiopeia's boasting and went to their father to demand something be done about this horrible, vain woman.

Nereus had also heard the boasting and told his daughters that he already had a punishment in mind. He sent Cetus the sea serpent (say that five times fast) to the coast of Aethiopia, and Cetus caused a panic. Anytime someone went to the shore, Cetus roared out of the water and ate him. If someone went out in a fishing boat, Cetus ate him boat and all. Soon everyone in the land was afraid to go near the water (insert Jaws music here). This was more of a problem than you might think, because the people depended largely on fishing to feed themselves. It didn't take long before people were going hungry, and no one could figure out why the sea gods had turned against them.

The people sent a delegation to Cepheus to see if he could appease the sea gods, but when he heard of the monster he became his usual indecisive self and mumbled that he'd have to go ask his wife. He went to Cassiopeia and started to tell her of the sea serpent but she interrupted him saying, "Don't come to me with your problems. Can't you see I'm getting my nails done? If you want to know why the gods are angry, go ask them yourself."

Well, with an apologetic "yes dear" the king went back to the people and said he didn't know what to do but maybe they should ask the gods. When someone asked him if he meant go talk to oracle who spoke for the gods, Cepheus sheepishly agreed. He hadn't thought of that.

The oracle was prepared to answer the king's question (she couldn't quite figure out why he hadn't come by sooner) and told him that the god Nereus was angry with Cassiopeia for her vanity. When Cepheus asked what he could do about it, the oracle replied that the only way to banish the monster was to take his daughter Andromeda, chain her to a rock by the shore, and let Cetus eat her. Once he'd eaten Andromeda he would return to his home in the depths.

Cepheus may not have been too bright but he didn't like the sound of sacrificing his own daughter. He went to ask Cassiopeia what she thought, but she replied, "Don't come to me with your problems -- Can't you see I'm getting a facial? I swear, you'll give me a wrinkle. Do whatever you're told. I don't care."

"Yes dear."

It was a solemn procession that led Andromeda to the sea shore. The poor girl didn't know why they were chaining her to a rock and she begged to be allowed to go back to the palace. Her father kissed her on the forehead without a word, then everyone left her to her fate. The water started churning and roiling at the approach of Cetus, and the girl's eyes opened wider as she saw the monster coming closer and closer. In terror Andromeda screamed for anyone to help her...

Ah, but before I go any further I need to back up a bit and introduce you to Perseus. He had been sent by his stepfather to kill a terrible monster called Medusa (yep, the woman with snakes on her head). Because she could turn anyone who looked at her to stone, he'd done some fancy work with a polished shield (courtesy of the goddess Athene) to get close enough to strike her head off. From the bloody stump sprung the magical winged horse Pegasus. Perseus put the severed head in his bag (hey, everyone needs a souvenir), climbed onto the horse's back, and started winging his way home.

As he travelled he heard the faint sounds of a woman screaming. Steering Pegasus closer, he saw Andromeda chained to the rock and Cetus coming ever closer. Being the stereotypical hero, without another thought he flew up and started stabbing the beast. Cetus turned away from his meal-to-be and went to take care of this new distraction.

Perseus stabbed and stabbed, but there was no effect on the magical serpent. Pegasus was beginning to tire from the violent fight and it was looking like they'd have to flee, when Perseus suddenly remembered his gory memento. He grabbed the bag with Medusa's head in it and without looking pulled it out and waved it toward the sea creature. Sure enough, Cetus glanced at it long enough to turn to stone. He promptly sank to bottom of the sea with an appropriately monstrous splash and groan.

Perseus cut Andromeda loose, and together they flew back to the palace with Andromeda filling him in on the way there. By the time they arrived Perseus was so angered by the way his new love (well, of course they fell in love immediately) had been treated by her parents that he asked Athene whether they shouldn't be punished for what they'd done.

Athene naturally agreed, and soon her father Zeus reached down from Olympus and grabbed vain Cassiopeia by her (carefully coiffed) hair. He yanked her right up to a new throne in the sky, where for half the night and half the year she gets to sit and look down at just how far she'd fall if she ever slipped off. The other half of the year? Well, she hangs on for dear life as her throne is tipped upside down in the sky. Dimwit Cepheus is there next to her, but as befits a weak ruler his stars are much, much dimmer.

And the rest? You can find them there in the sky, Andromeda riding on Pegasus and her husband Perseus nearby. Cetus is there too... and we remember him today in the name we give the whales (cetaceans).

Orion, Canis Major, Canis Minor, Taurus, and Lepus (constellations)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 18 Sept 2003

Artemis (Diana) was the goddess of the moon as well as being the virgin goddess of the hunt. One night as she was driving the moon chariot across the sky she spied the great hunter Orion striding through the forest and she fell for him hard. The next morning she caught up with him and the two of them proceeded to have a lovely little romance... if you consider shooting innocent animals for fun as a lovely romance, that is.

Anyway, Artemis was soon spending all of her time with Orion and neglecting her duties in the sky. After all, who wants to spend a cold night up in a chariot when they can hang out by the campfire? Her brother Apollo (the sun god) soon noticed that her chariot wasn't following his any more and came down to earth to see what she was up to.

Well, when he found out she was hanging around Orion he was doubly worried. Orion didn't have the best reputation around the ladies, you see. Apollo waited until Artemis was alone and tried to convince her to go back to the sky, but she'd have none of it and told her brother to stop interfering. With that, he headed back to drive the sun across the sky, but you can imagine he wasn't going to give up that easily.

A few days later Orion decided to go for a swim in the ocean. He was a big man and a good swimmer, and pretty soon he was so far out that he could hardly be seen. Apollo saw that as his chance and went down once more to visit his sister.

"Artemis," he said, "I can understand not wanting to drive the moon chariot, but I can't understand how you'd let a man keep you from practicing your hunting skills." "What do you mean," she replied, "I'm still the best shot in existence. Orion hasn't changed that." "Oh yeah," her brother said with a smile, "suppose you prove it."

He pointed out to sea at the little speck that was Orion (who was even harder to see since Apollo had shone the sun down on him juuuuust right) and dared his sister to hit it with an arrow. By now she had her back up and took the dare without a second thought. She grabbed an arrow, nocked it, aimed... and hit Orion straight on. Apollo agreed she was still an excellent shot and headed back up to the sky, leaving poor Artemis to discover Orion's body when it floated back to land. Even she couldn't bring him back to life, so she put him in the sky where he could live forever.

Now, most people end the story here but that's only half of it. Orion was a real sports nut (today he'd have all the premium cable channels) and up in the sky he had nothing to do. Every time Artemis drove the moon chariot past him, he'd whine out his sarcastic thanks to the goddess for putting him up in the sky where he could be bored for eternity. She felt rather bad about the whole thing, so she brought up his hunting dogs to keep him company.

This kept him satisfied for a while, but soon he AND the dogs were bored with running around the sky. Orion started complaining to the moon goddess again, and she (although thoroughly bored of him by now) relented and sent Taurus the bull to the hunter. Neither can kill the other, but they spend eternity hunting and chasing.

You'd think this would be the happy ending, but you'd be wrong. It wasn't terribly happy for someone who had been in the sky long before Orion got there. Little Lepus the hare was dismayed to see the giant hunter appear above him, and when the dogs and bull were added he grew so scared of being attacked that he dimmed his stars down as much as he could to hide himself from the violent group. He's still there at the feet of Orion to this day, but unless you know where to look for him he's pretty hard to spot.

Ophiuchus and Serpens (constellations)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 15 Sept 2003

A long time ago there was a doctor by the name of Aesculapius. There are a few different versions of his story, but this is the one I like...

One day Aesculapius was out working in his garden, as most doctors did in those days of herbal medicine. While he was weeding and mucking about he noticed a snake slithering down one of the rows. Not being especially fond of snakes, he killed it with his staff. Then he took his knife, sliced the snake's head off, and threw the body off in a corner of the garden.

As he went back to work he noticed another snake working its way through the garden, but this time he decided to stop and watch what it was doing. The snake soon came upon the body of the first snake... and then it did something very curious. It went to a corner of the garden which was a bit weedy, pulled some leaves off of one of the weeds, and headed back to the other snake's body with the leaves in its mouth. The snake put some of the leaves in the dead snake's mouth, some of them on the severed neck, and then nudged the head back to the body. As the doctor watched, the head and body grew back together! The two snakes wound their way out of the garden, leaving the doctor to look for the plant the snake had used. He picked a few leaves and put them in his bag, thinking he'd have a closer look at them later.

Just then, a woman from down the street came running and calling for Aesculapius. Her son had suffered a terrible accident, and she begged the doctor to come and help him. The two went back to the woman's house but by the time they got there the son had already died of his injuries. The poor woman was inconsolable and pleaded with the doctor to do something to save her boy. Aesculapius knew there was nothing his medicine could do, but then he remembered the snake's plant. Making no promises, he carefully placed leaves on the boy's wounds. Nothing happened. Then the doctor remembered that the snake had also placed leaves in the other snake's mouth. He opened the boy's mouth, placed a leaf on his tongue... and the boy's wounds quickly healed over. When he opened his eyes to find his mother in tears, he innocently asked what was wrong!

After that the doctor's reptutation grew. He had always been well repected for his healing powers, but now that he could raise the dead -- well, you can imagine that everyone from far and near sought him out. He was always fair and kind, using his own methods whenever possible but always keeping a small amount of the snake's plant on hand for the cases that would have been hopeless otherwise.

This went on for some time until the gods started to take notice. One god in particular was quite put out by the lack of deaths. His name was Hades, king of the Underworld, and he was annoyed to no end that a mere mortal had assumed command over life or death. Finally he went to his brother Zeus, king of all the gods, and demanded that something be done.

"See that doctor down there? He and his plant are taking away all my customers. Since when does a mortal hold sway over the kingdom you gave me, brother?"

Zeus had also been watching the doctor but had been reluctant to do anything since he knew Aesculapius acted only out of kindness. He had to admit, though, that the lack of death was starting to affect the balance of the earth. If it went on there would soon be too little room for all of the people. He told Hades that the problem would be taken care of and sadly called for one of his thunderbolts. Zeus aimed his throw carefully, and in a flash (literally) the good doctor was gone.

Zeus didn't want all of Aesculapius's good deeds to be forgotten, however, so he took care to place him up in the sky where he can be seen holding the snake that gave him his powers even now. You might also notice that to this day doctors use the symbol of the staff and the snakes (the caduceus) for their craft.

So far, not so good

And yes, the photo is truly pointless. They pretty generally are. Those new to the program will get used to it in a hurry.

Speaking of hurry, this should be quick because I have things to do and I don't have much for a brain anyway.

The problem is this, you see. The needy animals (I did mention the needy animals, yes?) are used to sleeping in my father's room but as he's not here at the moment (I mentioned that part too, right?) they moved in with me last night.

Sort of.

They spent a lot of time chasing each other around the house first.

After that they took their time figuring out how they could best settle into my room. There seemed to have been some mind changing going on with that part.

Quite a bit later I ended up with the dominant cat by my head, the other one at the foot of the bed (Note to Max: sleeping at the foot of the bed does NOT mean you actually have to sleep on my feet. In fact, next time don't do that at all), and the dog on the floor beside me, ready to bark at the cats if they got out of line at all.

Apparently they did.

Apparently.

Or maybe the dog was just bored, I don't know.

Either way, there was definitely barking.








Why do I get the feeling that this is going to be a long week?

Hey, Toronto. Isn't it your turn to say something now?

I need a nap. Unfortunately, the dog needs a walk. Gee, I wonder whose needs will take precedence.

Coyote and the Stars

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 10 Sept 2003

After Naapi had put the animals on the earth he came back to see what they thought of their home. "Old Man," they said, "we like the daytime very much, but at night it's too dark to see and we keep bumping into things. Can you give us something to help us find our way at night?"

Old Man thought for a moment and then picked up a smooth, polished stone from a riverbed. He threw the stone as hard as he could into the sky where it stuck, becoming the star that never moves (Polaris). He then left for a long time.

When he returned he asked the animals again what they thought of their home. "Old Man," they said, "thank you for the light in the sky to help us find our way, but there is another problem. Sometimes the days are warm but sometimes they are cold. Duck has no way of telling when the he should be flying away for the cold winter, and Hare has no way of knowing when he should change his brown coat for a white one. Can you help us know the seasons?"

Naapi thought for a while and then collected a handful of stones from the riverbed. He walked up to the sky and carefully placed them close to the first stone, but in such a way that they would circle around it in the sky. He made those stones in the shape of Bear.

When he returned, Naapi showed the animals how they could tell the seasons by how far Bear had circled around the first stone. Then he told the animals that he would go back to the sky, and if they brought him more stones he would make all their pictures to go with Bear's.

The animals were very happy about this and soon set about collecting smooth stones to take to Old Man in the sky. He placed the stones very carefully in patterns, one after the other.

Soon, though, the small animals were very tired from running all the way up to the sky. They called to Naapi for help, and he told them to ask Coyote.

Coyote thought for a moment, and told the small animals that if they did the work of collecting stones and putting them in his leather bag he would take them up to Old Man all at once. Naturally he would want a very good picture of himself in the sky as a reward, but the other animals didn't mind and set to work finding the best stones to put in Coyote's sack.

As the small animals worked, Coyote started thinking of the fine picture Naapi would make of him. He thought of his picture being up in the sky forever, always admired by everyone. He'd be remembered long after he was dead. How wonderful that would be!

Coyote was so busy dreaming of his fine picture in the sky that he didn't notice how full the leather bag was getting. It was so full it was practically bursting at the seams, but the animals thought Coyote would tell them when he had enough so they kept bringing more stones. Finally Naapi called out from the sky, "animals, where are my stones? I will be leaving soon, so I must have the stones now if you want your pictures finished."

With that, Coyote looked down at the bag and realised how full it was getting. He knew it would be hard work to get it all the way to the sky before Naapi left. He grabbed the bag in his mouth (oh, it was heavy!) and started trudging to the sky. He slogged along as best he could, but every once in a while a stone or two would fall out of the bag and onto the sky.

Coyote was getting closer, but Old Man was impatient and cried, "animals, where are my stones? I want to finish the pictures." Coyote tried to hurry, but more and more stones fell out of the bag as he ran. They were spilling all over the place. Finally, Coyote made it to where Old Man was waiting, but by then there were very few stones in the bag indeed. Naapi used them to make one more picture.

When Old Man and Coyote went back down to the other animals, the animals wanted to know what had happened to their fine pictures in the sky. Some shapes did look like pictures, but many more of them just looked like scattered stones on the beach. In the middle there was a trail of stones where Coyote had travelled to the sky (the Milky Way).

And they say that the sky looks like that to this day because of Coyote's daydreaming. Coyote was punished for a while by being made into the moon but he was so noisy the other animals eventually asked for Naapi to bring him back down... but as they say, that's another story for another time.

Hydra, Corvus, and Crater (constellations)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 8 Sept 2003

A long time ago the god Apollo had a pet crow named Corvus which he kept for his amazing shimmery-white plumage and wonderful, clear singing voice. Most birds would have been so honoured by the god's attention that they would have done anything for him, but Corvus tended to get a little full of himself and distracted. He was forever forgetting to do the things he was asked to because he'd found something along the way that was far more fun or interesting.

One day Apollo decided to put Corvus to the test. He called the crow to him and told him how much he longed for a drink of water from his sacred spring down on earth. He gave Corvus his golden cup (Crater), told him to fill it and return as fast as he could, and sent him on his way.

Now, Apollo had made the trip sound so important that Corvus actually felt pretty special as he flew towards the spring with the cup in his mouth. He was looking forward to a reward and thinking with pleasure about what the god might give him when he returned, when suddenly his stomach gave a growl. He'd been in such a hurry to leave with the cup that he'd forgot to have breakfast! He did his best to ignore the first growl and the second and the third, but pretty soon he was having trouble thinking of anything but food.

As he got closer to the spring he noticed a beautiful fig tree loaded with the most amazing figs he'd ever seen. Figs were Corvus's favourite food, and he could hardly keep his stomach from growling at the thought of nice, ripe figs. He thought he'd stop just for a moment and have one or two, so he carefully put the golden cup down in the grass and flew up into the tree. Oh no! The wonderful-looking figs weren't ripe yet! What could hungry Corvus do?

Well, by this time he was so filled with the thought of figs for breakfast that he'd forgotten he was supposed to be hurrying to the spring. He sat down under the tree and decided to wait for the figs to ripen. He couldn't wait to taste those amazing-looking figs, and he was imagining just how wonderful they would be as he carefully preened his shining white feathers. He even sang his best songs to the tree in hopes that the figs would ripen even sweeter.

At last the figs were ripe. Corvus flew up into the tree and started eating figs. They were soooo good. Corvus ate figs and ate figs and ate figs until he was so full he couldn't have stuffed in another fig if his life depended on it. He flew back down to the grass and settled down for a nap, fully contented.

Unbeknownst to Corvus, though, Apollo had been watching him the whole time and do you think he was pleased? Not at all. "So that's how well Corvus follows instructions. We'll soon remind him of his job." And with that Apollo sent a ray from the sun in just the right direction to strike the golden cup and reflect into Corvus's eyes as he laid in the grass.

Corvus woke up with a start, wondering why things had gotten so bright. When he saw the golden cup sitting there, he suddenly remembered Apollo's task and how late he was. He grabbed the cup in his mouth, dashed to the sacred spring to fill it, and headed off back to Olympus as fast as his wings could carry him. The whole time he was thinking of what he was going to tell Apollo to keep him from getting angry. The truth, of course, never crossed his mind. Silly bird.

When Corvus returned he found Apollo waiting for him with a frown on his face. Undaunted, Corvus strutted into the room and said, "here is your cup and the water you sent me for, Apollo. I hope it will satisfy you, because it was quite a job to get it." "Oh???" said Apollo, "and what was so difficult about the job?" "Well," said Corvus, " I went down to the spring as you'd asked me, but as I was about to dip the cup in I noticed the water was all churned up and murky. I thought that maybe someone had dumped something into your spring, so I put the cup down to clean things up. Just as I had things nicely clear a huge water snake (Hydra) leaped out of the spring, grabbed the cup, and swam right to the bottom with it. Now, I'm not a water bird like Cygnus the Swan, but when I saw the snake steal your cup I knew I had to go after it. I leaped into the water, wrestled the cup away, killed that horrible snake, and headed back as fast as I could."

Corvus was so proud of his story that he didn't notice the frown on Apollo's face deepen. "And this is how you work for me? Lies. You and your snake. Where is this snake you killed? Did he perhaps resemble a fig, crow? Figs are the only things I saw you wrestling down there."

When Corvus knew he'd been caught out in a lie he tried to hide trembling in a corner, but it was too late. The angry god reached out, grabbed the frightened bird, and started pulling his feathers out by the handful. He pulled and pulled and pulled, letting those feathers fall back to earth where they became the first snowfall. When he was done, all that was left was a shivering, naked Corvus.

But Apollo wasn't done. "Your tongue will be forever branded by your lies, bird," he said, and he reached right down Corvus's throat and pulled out that beautiful singing voice. Poor Corvus was left with nothing but a pathetic caaaaaw, and as soon as Apollo set him free he ran away and hid himself from all the other birds out of shame.

Well, Corvus's feathers eventually did grow back, but as we all know they didn't grow back shimmery-white like they used to be. Today all crows are black because of Corvus's lies, and when they try to sing no one ever admires their croaky voices. As for Corvus himself, Apollo put him up in the sky with Crater the cup and Hydra the snake, and Corvus can never again reach the cup to take a drink for his poor raw throat.

Bison's Back

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 7 Sept 2003

Before Naapi put people on the prairie he first gave it to the animals. He showed them how to make homes in the grass since there were no trees, and then he left them to enjoy the world.

Most of the animals got along very well with each other and respected each other, but one felt that since he was so much bigger and faster than the others he didn't have to respect anyone. His name was Bison, and he was sleek and strong and fast. His friend (well, maybe more like a little brother who followed him around and didn't leave him alone) was Fox, and Fox just didn't really care what anyone thought of him.

Bison's favourite thing in the world was to run. When he was in the mood to run he'd tear across the plain at top speed, churning up the soil and not caring a lick for anything or anyone he might run into. And when Bison ran, you just knew that Fox would be bouncing along right behind him, cheering him on at the top of his voice and thinking it was the best game ever.

The problem was, though, that when Bison ran he ran right over the other animals' homes in the grass. No matter how much they begged or reasoned with Bison, he'd just look down his nose at them and snort snobbishly. Sure enough, the next day he'd run right over the homes again with Fox bounding along behind.

When this had happened a few times, the animals decided they had to call on Naapi to help them. "Old Man," they cried, "please come save our homes for us."

Naapi came down and asked them what was wrong. Hadn't he given them the prairie for their very own, and hadn't he told them they should get along with each other? "Oh Naapi," they replied, "we've done everything you asked. We've taken time making our homes here on the prairie, but every time we build our homes Bison and Fox run right over them no matter how hard we plead with them." "Is that so," said Naapi. "I think that if Bison and Fox decide to run tomorrow I will have to watch them."

Sure enough, the next day Bison decided to go for another run. He pawed at the ground with his big hoofs, and Fox bounced with excitement beside him. Not pausing a moment to even think of the other animals, the two tore across the grassland... and straight over the rebuilt homes.

"Bison!" shouted Naapi. When Fox heard the voice he hid behind Bison, but Bison just stood there eyeing Old Man. "Bison," Naapi said, "why do you show such little respect for others? It's true I made you bigger and stronger than the other animals, but that also means you have more responsibility. Never destroy the homes again, or you will suffer for it." With that, Naapi left.

The animals hoped that Naapi's words would make a difference, but the next day Bison decided to go for another run. Fox was a little nervous, but when he saw that Bison wasn't scared of Old Man he soon felt fine about following along as he usually did, cheering at the top of his lungs. The two dashed across the grasslands, picking up speed... and ran right over the homes AGAIN.

This time Naapi didn't call out to Bison. He came down without warning and slapped Bison on the shoulders very, very hard. Bison winced with pain, and Fox tunnelled quickly into the ground so he wouldn't be hit as well.

"Did you not listen when I told you to respect the homes? If you can't listen to warnings, then you must be punished." Old Man raised his arm to slap Bison again, and Bison hunched up his shoulders to keep it from hurting so much. Suddenly, Naapi laughed. "It seems you've chosen your own punishment, Bison. Since you would not stand still to be hit but hunched up your shoulders, you and all of your children will have hunched up shoulders forever." And sure enough, every bison you meet to this day has hunched up shoulders.

Fox stayed quietly in his hole hoping Old Man hadn't seen him, but no such luck. "Fox," he said, "you too have chosen your punishment. You thought that Bison would protect you from the consequences of your actions, but when punishment came you ran and hid. Well, from now on you and your children must find your only protection in the ground you've hidden in." And sure enough, every fox that lives in the grassland to this day must dig holes in the ground for protection.

When the other animals saw that Bison and Fox had been punished, they rebuilt their homes and lived happy and free on the prairie. That is, they lived happy and free until Naapi decided to make people... but that's another story for another time.