Monday, November 20, 2017

write write write right right

I hope Rachel is not related to Cherie now.
“If you write what you yourself sincerely think and feel and are interested in… you will interest other people.”  
~ Rachel Carter

Well what I know what I have known...

What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never free
Never me
So I dub thee unforgiven

Side tracked again Anyway 

here is a short condensation of my past week or so.
With surgeries piling on one after another it is beginning to take its toll I guess. I just have had what could be considered the worst week of 2017 maybe? 

Always something new and always a first even at 61 almost 62 but I could have done easily without this double skin graft on my head recently.  

Bad enough I was still suffering and still healing from a huge cut on my forehead just a couple of weeks ago ( I might check the dates later) Hell my elbow still hurts like hell at times from my old double somersault back in June.

Anyway just to say that I was reminded of Ani DiFranco's lyrics:

It's the little things that kill.

or her exact words: this little war is what kills us

The old story I heard somewhere of the Chinese Torture 
(tried on MythsBusters IIRC , Kari Byron was not a happy camper) 
a single drop of water dropping on your forehead 


This little pain here, this little pain there, this constant reminder, the lack of sleep caused by it and add enough of it and it's enough to have enough at one point.

I seem more concerned now about escaping reality than occupying my remaining time.

Anyway stiched dressings is my idea of hell and/or Chinese torture at 2 places also to make sure there was not a single comfortable position to sleep.

O well I survived I guess and the much anticipated day has arrived and AT LAST the dreaded stitched dressings are gone.  But what a long week it was though.

I realise of course many people all over the world are into so much more misery but somehow it doesn't help my misery at all even after watching the Queen of Katwe and see how miserable life was in the slums of Uganda bad I did not even mind this poor soul peddling his delusions really ... his Christianity at least was real and certainly not the American ugly style.  

I had had this/his opportunity in the past but now I seem to have lost it and don't have the stamina to chase it again: those chess sets at Safety Bay Primary might just have to rot without me. 

 It was hell on wheels of red tape and what not to try to take a few kids to Applecross forget Russia now.

Anyway as a result of a consequence or a normal progression of chronic depression I guess I seem to have lost all interests in my game despite a short return to Diablo recently and a new coming expansion on Path of Exile.

The little things again I find the "death penalties" too disheartening on POE where I can't seem to reach level 90 no matter what.  It certainly IS possible and thousands have done it but as a noob I suck, I play too long, too tired, and get into a couple of stupid deaths that throw me hours back.

Prolly just need a rest til the new expansion comes and then take it one day at a time but as I was telling the admins there it seems to overestimate my rapidly declining Charlie Gordon Intelligence here as the game is getting more and more complex and I can only follow the instructions of a brilliant YOUNG engineer blindly without really understanding what the fuck I am doing and/or why did I die there? 

Any hoot here is my 'letter' to them now

a drop in the ocean
I don't mind my kills being a drop in the ocean 
What I DO mind though
is my ocean being emptied by the fucking bucket load every time I died
Diablo got rid of this clusterfuck YEARS ago 
Why be so far behind in time?
What is next? Losing all your shit and try to get it back naked when you could not survive full armoured? Really?
That is the biggest disheartening fact that might keep me away from POE and move on to GD to see if they got their shit together
After waiting all day for the power to come back here after electrical work being done in the neighbourhood I started at 70% to end up at 53% after a couple of hours and a loss of the will to live  
Back to D3 for a while where a death only costs me a few coins ... Fuck I d rather lose a Chaos Orb rather than exp
ALSO while I am here I feel GGG is overestimating the IQ of the general audience.
The game is already quite complicated and is getting more and more complex where the average Joe will just have to blindly follow the kind advice of a brilliant engineer instead of making any sense of it.
I used to be intelligent like Charlie Gordon in Flowers for Algernon but I have no idea how a mind can follow the HUGE information overload: 10 to 15 unknown squares at the top of the screen some of them being there for a couple of seconds only plus reading all the monsters abilities while trying to survive too seems a bit much for me.
O well my opinion too is just that A DROP IN THE OCEAN so here it goes

and their kind answer

Hey there,
Thank you for contacting support.
I'm sorry to hear that you feel this way. I will be sure to pass your feedback onto the appropriate team members for consideration.
Please feel free to contact us again if you have any further feedback or suggestions, we really appreciate hearing thoughts from the community.
Kind regards,

I had a few other notes I wanted to mention and again my failing memory is errrr failing me again

One of them was that it would be nice QOL (Quality of Life) to add on again another Diablo copy where you pick one you pick them all.  All this one by one picking is really tedious especially in the BeachHead end map.

Otherwise it is a great game I just wish I would have picked it up 20 years ago when I had some brains left

That is also another part of the little war that kills to see the constant decline of faculties I always empathized much with Charlie Gordon and almost understood him, even if he was a fictional character.  Daniel Keyes ' masterpiece Flowers for Algernon should be a must read for anyone and especially for someone who is working with Alzheimer's and Dementia patients who I guess don't play video games either anymore.

Thursday, November 2, 2017

Quick thoughts on Path of Exile

2 months gone

Here we are been back for 2 months and what have I done?
(The following might be Greek or Chinese to any non POE player)

Well errr most of my conscious time I would have to say has been spent on this new game / addiction of mine.

It took me a while to join the POE crowd but now I am in...well sort of.

I thought I was going to give up for a while as there is so much for my ageing declining Alzheimer's brain to grasp and retain,

But then a decent guide came on and I persevered.

Thanks to Brian from EngineeringEternity.

I am still struggling with much and have done so many stupid mistakes and still do but I am progressing slowly, breaking a new record every day,

My last record was NOT to die to the last boss of Act 10, a feat I had not succeeded at previously.

I spend crazy mad hours in this game and after 2 months of it I am no better than some 'kid' who would have played it for a week but I am moving along slowly learning every day.

I have managed a few 'titles' and I am proud of that too.

I call ascendancies titles :) 

I have a level 88 Berserker who even though was struggling for a while is doing better now. I have invested much in him, including 2 divine vessels and he might get somewhere one day. He is for the mo my daily mission hero and also my beachhead map killer.  

He is the finder of my whole 2 (TWO) Exalted (make that 3 with all the shards I got in BeachHead. 

Exalted seem to be much related to Zana so far,
by the way she should turn level 7 tomorrow.  

Elreon is my only level 8 so far soon to be followed by Haku.

Vorici is an asshole with all his rules don't kill this don't kill that etc  I am not in the leaving alive business.  

Speaking of Vorici I might need him at 8 soon to fix one of my most horrible mistake. 
Remind me to tell you my Tabula Rasa story one day.

What I find so out-of-reach is one of those 6 links armour that either cost 500 chaos ( I barely manage to gather and keep 200)

My biggest expense was a cheap Dying Sun at 80 chaos.

It's either 500 chaos or way more fusing that I can afford and never come close to owning such an amount.

Mind you spreading myself thin with many 5 linked comes expensively as well.

Nest is my level 87 Necromancer who for a while was my best.  Good for some maps like the one where I could not leech where my Berserker and my Juggernaut would not do well at all.

Speaking of Juggernaut he is my latest obsession now at level 75 soon to be wearing that belt at 78 if I can fix my incredible intelligence problem :P 

Another thing I am utterly slow at learning is proper crafting and it should not be hard on this character since he's only got two slots to fix all the rest is predetermined. 

I gotta craft or find somehow some incredible helm and boots with INTELLIGENCE galore AND loads of life AND loads of resist preferably Fire. And oh yeah some movement speed is primordial too my Necro is killing me with slowliness and my Juggernaut speed had to be fixed at all costs.

I have no idea really what each machine does and even when I get my masters to level 8 I certainly don't have the Ex required for fancy crafting.

Anyway more to come on Path of Exile soon they say write about what you know well too bad for that rule now but it certainly what I DO anyway even though badly.

There were more thoughts I wanted to share about my past 2 months but they will have to wait as the sun is about to rise soon, a common happening in this vampire house so off to my coffin for now with more later. 


Tuesday, August 29, 2017

pre post not erous

August 29th last day in Arles after a long month of trials and tribulations LOL good food good cheese and good wine.

The plans of mice and men have gone somewhat awry but then again not making plans is our awry style.

 “The best laid schemes o' mice an' men /
 Gang aft a-gley.”

Not sure how to feel at the mo, too early to tell

Underwhelmed? Overwhelmed? or even whelmed at all? 😇

Something will hit hard when I get home if I am to go by previous experiences.  
My post-travelling depression is usually quite abysmal.

Wherever you go there you are! 
So there I will be.

Fortunate to travel? 
But then again HOME SWEET HOME 
is always a good place to go back to.

Every time I travel I have a feeling it is the last time ever. 
Financially and physically and emotionally.

Good to see different places and people and there are many ways to travel but I am often reminded of Paul Kelly's song though:

Every Fucking City is the same.

So anyway we did Paris and 
we will always have Arles Darl 
but memories are a fleeting thing and just seem to "fleet" at light speed lately.

Expensive memories but we don't take either when we die anyway: 
the money or the memories.

More coming soon I suppose, as always this is not your typical travelling blog more like a temporary stream of consciousness.  Temporary here being a redundancy.

It was mostly fun while it lasted: 5 long months of expectations and 1 month of "living it up"

Most back burner projects went off the fucking stove as they usually do but I am fairly satisfied with the way it went despite some drawbacks and a comedy of error and all.

What we ended up doing as far as outgoing trips are:

Abbaye de Montmajour

St-Remy ( in a tight race for return bus)
and Avignon after almost giving up on it after a few strikes out:
Miscommunication galore inside and out.
That Arelate festival interfered with our shuttle bus hours and it took us days to realise it.

Then also my mini depression when we faced the closed doors of les Halles as I had planned this for 5 months.

But altogether it was alright with the cute little touch of calling my mum as I was standing on the Pont D'Avignon so she would have something to proudly share with the old folks at the residence.

Today is the last day and with the tiredness and the heat my last mouse plan will prolly go awry too but I don't care.  I was kinda missing that Pont Langlois on my Van Gogh trail but it is not the same bridge and not even at the same place.

As a matter of fact nothing is the same since over 100 years have passed since Vincent but I tried to appreciate the light as much as I could me not being a real artist and all.

But anyway enough rambling for now here is my shortstop stream of semi consciousness for now.

Friday, August 4, 2017


...when one is on a very special vacation one would blog about that with tons of photos but that is what Facebook is for.  My blog to me is for long rambling of sort.  Two things on my heart now:

1. I forgot already hahaha errrr oh yeah the dichotomy of travelling and "enjoying" your holiday while your daughter is dying!!!

That's a big one.

I feel a little bit like a psycho with a total lack of empathy posting joyful photos.

a) Sue had a point though that one she enjoys them too.

b) We made that full decision with her blessing come what may.  But still is for the living but losing your baby under the Mediterranean Sun does not make it easier.

2. Among the many hot discussions (read altercation and all its synonyms) one was people maybe especially here in France but all over the world.  

I get easily upset behind what I call inconsiderate people.  Lining up as we do (reminiscent of the Hamlet soliloquy here, 

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns

Sue on the other hand thinks Patience is better.
And (don't tell her that) she is probably right and Albert Ellis would agree with her too.

ME?! I live in a grand delusional world where everyone should practice MY negative golden rule:




When I pick my change and stuff it in my pocket and will sort it out later just to get out of the way of people trying to be AWARE that public service is just that and that I am not a king or a queen to be attended to.  

You KNOW what they do in this country to kings and queens dontcha?

So the ethical dilemma here is

Should I be Considerate OR Patient?

Sad part is I have to be both reluctantly
as I find that consideration is this world is a totally forgotten word and concept. 

And all my MUSTURBATION in the world will change nothing to it.

Voila for now on a hot canicule day in Provence.

More to come soon I would think

for the remainder of my time :(

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Off my chest again Blizzard Love/Hate relationship

What does it matter, a dream of love
Or a dream of lies
We're all gonna be in the same place
When we die

Nothing really matters,
Anyone can see,
Nothing really matters,
Nothing really matters to me.
Any way the wind blows.

Is it going to matter in 5 years from now?

The subject here seems to be “mattering” innit?

Well matters or not it really bugs me and deflates me at times.

I mean I knew in my heart of heart that it was coming but still.

Am I talking about some great tragedy in life?

Or a death or an accident of some kind?

(Even though I’ve had both of those recently)


I am talking about a “hobby” of mine.

If we can call 5757 hours a hobby now.

With the last 74 hours and 42 minutes spent/ wasted on their new necromancer.

The hobby/game for anyone who knows me is obviously Diablo 3.



I had this sense of urgency to hurry before they kill it one more time but I should have been wiser in hindsight in my use of painfully and dreadfully slow gain of materials.
I had a humongous amount of mats before the necro  came out that I wasted trying to improve a set that is now USELESS again.  Not mentioning the effort it takes me to bring a character to a proper and decent 80 lvl Caldesaan.
A breeze for others maybe but hours and hours of grinding for me.
I just seem to invest

all these hours however on the wrong fucking horse every time.

I would have been better in hindsight to save all my level 80 gems and invest them on the Hammerdin

but the day I do that is the day Blizzard is going to nerf it to the ground as well.

It is extremely disheartening and discouraging to be knocked down your horse every time for no other reason that something is just working well.

It is a well-known fact that many CEO’s are psychotic and have no empathy whatsoever but it certainly must be a pre-requirement for developers as well to destroy one’s work, one’s aspirations, one’s dream with no empathy, no remorse, and no regrets and fuck forbid to change something back and re-establish it as it was when it was good.

I shouldn’t complain? I raised my personal best from GR82 to GR85
whoop tee fucking doo!

Not even enough to even qualify for the lowest 1000th rank on the leader board at 90 but I was happy and grinding slowly.

In good time I was aiming at maybe 90 

the 100 mark being always kept out of sight by the benevolent eye of Blizz for sure.

I am not a high level player by any means (Paragon 1390) I am way too fucking old but I keep on grinding and the hours alone placed me in the top 200 on a very early leader board and then I needed sleep.

ALSO having my own pace and rhythm I am almost exclusively a solo player which is a punishable crime for Blizzard even if though technically they suffer it reluctantly.
I was expecting this fully and I had a sense of urgency as I said that something was wrong because Blizzard from my experience does not keep something good unless it’s a wizard maybe they don’t mind those cheating away and getting away with murder.

There was nothing wrong AGAIN on the leader boards to justify such a whimsical and cruel act in the same manner that they fucked up a working WD.

So here it is: my worthless opinion which I am fully entitled to with the amount of hours I played and the 20 years I wasted on this crazy game: almost the only game I play and ever played btw; dabbled a bit with Overwatch at the AI lvl but that too is not really my cup of tea.

So keep doing it of course that’s what you do best: trashing people’s joys as if this was some sort of an S & M game for you guys.

In the meanwhile like a good addict I might see the light one day and get a detox from you toxic people. 

I would hope that enough people would quit for you to lose your destructive jobs and deprive you of your control freak power trips.

Constructive comments? 
I think not definitely not PC 
but true and real feelings.

In case it wasn’t evident this is my reaction to the violent nerfing to the ground of the Inarius set with your Mirinae mega nerf .

exactly the same same same thing you did with Helltooth
and the Ring of Emptiness not so long ago

You are nothing but predictable.

Finishing with a last song,
You always bring back Kenny Rogers to my mind
of all people for a reason LOL

You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille
With four hungry children
And a crop in the field
I've had some bad times
Lived through some sad times
But this time your hurtin' won't heal
You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille

After he left us
I ordered more whisky

Hater will Hate and Mockers will Mock and Trolls will Troll.

P.S. I don’t want my money back
I just wanted a game that works and is fun.

Speaking of which you wisely chose the Euro exchange over the U.S. exchange on the Aussie dollar to squeeze an extra 2 bucks. Well done.

P.P.S. You STILL can’t work a decent density in GR’s
Here was something that REALLY needed fixing.
Leave your abacus behind and start doing proper maths.
Monsters per square yard is a very SIMPLE number.

P.P.P.S. In the meanwhile like a good addict I might see the light one day and get a detox from you toxic people.   


Move on to a new drug!
Maybe this Old Dog can learn a new trick :)

Path of Exile here I come 
Come What May! 
I'm a POE man from now on

So maybe it was the last straw Blizzard 
after 20 years 
this camel's back is broken

Thursday, July 6, 2017

"The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog"

“I am just a brown woman who speaks my mind”

What a LOADED statement!
Without knowing anything else at all about the context I know we are in for some bullshit rhetoric diarrhoea.

1.       Let’s play the racist card right off the bat
2.      Let’s play the feminist card next to stack the deck and
3.      My favourite let’s use the infamous Freudian defence mechanism.

“I am just speaking my mind”
“I just say it as it is”

is mostly uttered by arrogant rude and obnoxious assholes.

For one thing anyone who had watched one of my favourite episode of Star Trek just KNOWS that ONE does NOT speak his or her MIND. Period. *

A mind is not meant to be spoken it is meant to be filtered and edited and analysed and concerned about the impact of one’s words on others.

The bishop in Alexandria was just “speaking” his mind on Hypatia, even using the good word to his nefarious end in the fictitious Agora.

It is so obvious in the very faces of people with such statements.

The hardness, the defensiveness, the arrogance and the literal ugliness of it all.

One who says such thing is usually single or lives with a partner with a banana for backbone or maybe an absolute Zen Saint. 
I mean Socrates’ wife was famous for speaking her mind too apparently, 
so are chimeras probably.

The world/ the Internet is full of such behaviour obviously being brought more and more into light by anonymity and by the abundance of words and wasted ones and zeros out there where at roughly 3 PM there are

3,673,769,286Internet users in the world today
145,922,242,150Emails sent today
3,089,789Blog posts written today
413,585,119Tweets sent today
3,300,253,256Google searches today

The stat said BTW that as of 2006, 200 million blogs were left without updates.
Considering blogs die faster than Europeans in the Great Plague it is a bit of a vain and hopeless task I admit.

So here it goes for today my 700 words on 10 little words juxtaposed.

“I am just a brown woman who speaks my mind”

Funny part is it was a short appearance on Facebook I can’t seem to retrieve now since my Facebook got very whimsical and capricious lately on what it will show me and in what order.  
I lost my ordering button on the left probably because I have too many blocks and restraints on Facebook to begin with LOL

Et Voila!

*Star Trek The Next Generation S07E08 28 February 1996 “Attached”
Beverly says the telepathic implants are connected directly to the brainstem, but Lorin says they're connected to the cerebral cortex. Given the localization of function in the human brain, an implant in the cerebral cortex would be more intuitive. The superficial location of the implants would suggest connection to the brainstem, which is a prime spot for inducing nausea. This ambiguity in neuroanatomy technobabble continues a Star Trek tradition of referring to the brain as the cerebral cortex even though it's just one (albeit large) area of the brain.»

Captain Jean-Luc Picard: I am not being unreasonable! 
Doctor Beverly Crusher: I didn't say that you were. I may have thought it, but there's a difference. 
Captain Jean-Luc Picard: I am not being unreasonable! 
Doctor Beverly Crusher: I didn't say that you were. I may have thought it, but there's a difference. 
Captain Jean-Luc Picard: Now that we know how... each of us feels, perhaps we should not be afraid to explore those feelings.
[Beverly kisses him on the cheek]
Doctor Beverly Crusher: Or perhaps we should be afraid.
Doctor Beverly Crusher: That is not funny!
Captain Jean-Luc Picard: I wanted to see if you were still listening.
Doctor Beverly Crusher: I'm... I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just couldn't resist.
Captain Jean-Luc Picard: I'm beginning to realize that you always seem to have some... acerbic remark on the tip of your tongue.
Doctor Beverly Crusher: Well, at least I've trained myself not to *say* it anymore.

Captain Jean-Luc Picard: Isn't it astonishing though how much clutter there is in the consciousness?

Sunday, July 2, 2017

And so it goes...

Unedited and Raw as per Usual 

Thing is I believe that shit for so so long ‘tis sad. 
In hind sight well it seems just so errrr…


Some people say we are born atheists and I certainly get the point now.

I have been every thing and every colour of Christianity.

Born Catholic,

A zealous altar boy getting up at dark to go to mass daily and early to give me time to tie them 100 buttons on that long black robe at 6 years old or so.

A lapse Catholic as most of my generation, drunk and stone.
Then on August 12, 1976 after a short stay in a detox centre where I stayed one month of the required three and a very traumatic group therapy experience besides having nurse Ratched as my personal ‘psychologist”:

Monique Gravel still remember her name.

I met this young 14 year old “evangelist” and my world was turned upside down for years.

After hell broke loose over the past two months I jumped out of the frying pan straight into the fire of hell for all my best years to come.
2 months described here partly in my old blog

*Almost forgot this one How could I? 1976! Just out of detox centre. 10 PM or so, bored, listening to Supertramp nagging me to death.DREAAAAAAAMER you’re NOTHING but a DREEEEAAAAAMER...
Piss off Supertramp I’ll show you. Grab a pair of underwear and a t shirt in a very tiny Cojana plastic bag. Bus to the end of town and head to visit this “friend” I barely know 750 miles east. (Gaspe again)
Make it there after a long horrible trip knock at the door only to find out he’s gone to the North Coast. Don’t know his parents well enough so only one solution head back. I thought the trip was bad on my way down but coming back was life altering. Almost 3 in the morning, miles from nowhere, a wool hunting shirt drenched right through after 6 hours in the rain with nowhere to hide. Looking up to the dark sky and crying wondering what kind of a fool I am and if there is someone up there who could help me because nobody down here will. I wouldn’t even pick myself up for fear of ruining my back seat.
FINALLY, Finally a car stops and I am singing Hallelujah and so grateful for a little bit of heat and dryness. My joy is very short lived though. The man is dead drunk and driving at 100 miles an hour on a dark country road and right down in the middle of the road riding the white line and every time there is a car coming toward us I see the film of my life and have my hand ready to grab the steering wheel in case my wino doesn’t here. Well a very very long 10 minutes later he stopped at the next hotel. And I almost fall on my knees to thank God for still being alive and I don’t mind the wet and cold rain so much anymore all of a sudden all things considered. Get another short ride from a police car and they have to let me out since there is no handle on their back door. Stopped at the local prison to ask for shelter for the night and this time I am not as lucky as they kick me out. Anyway made it back “home” a very tired and humbled man.

I should not forget to mention that having spent May in a detox centre rejected by everyone before and during I ended up losing two apartments and one job in the short period leading to all this.  Ended up in a homeless shelter at the ripe age of 20 years old. So one night at the homeless shelter if I never told that one before I was turned back.  Let’s try to make this story coherent now.

That might be hard since my mind is getting less and less coherent but here it goes IIRC.
May at Domremy Detox centre in Ste-Genevieve west tip of Montreal island.

Lost 35 lbs in a month running around the compound 6 times daily with a trainer looking pale and concerned and checking my pulse at every round in case I carked it with a “Not on my shift please” look on his face.

Also winning B tournaments of table tennis (ping pong) and badminton. 

A “B” Tournament is a tournament of losers hahaha so I was the best of the losers. 
(they gather all the losers of the first round and make a new tournament just for them)

Al that while eating cafeteria style all you can eat ham and gravy and what not.
So errr where was I oh yeah May 1976 Domremy Montreal.

All my other addicts friends…

Let me make a pause here to describe what I remember as a not so great idea…
Homeless with no where to stay my dad could not take me my mother’s boyfriend didn’t really wanted me and he was the one suggesting that I follow his son’s steps and apply at this Detox Centre even though drugwise I was rather in a lapse at that time.

So as I was saying all my other addicts “colocs”/”colleagues” had a good and proper, properly trained with papers and all qualified psychologist …   Helene???

Where I the chosen of the gods got assigned a registered nurse who had read one comic book on psychology and decided it was my case.

The book was about carrying façade and she got the mission from god to destroy mine at all costs.  So she got up on her horse and started charging jousting with a naked and scared and not so chivalrous knight here.

At one group therapy where she was in charge she decided that today was the day and she leaded the group in an all-out assault of ramming poor me’s little façade apparently.
So they rammed and rammed and rammed at my castle gates mercilessly for what seem like hours but was probably just one hour and I sat there apparently serene and unshaken and solid as fuck.
When the last one got out and left the room and closed the door behind him I was still sitting there and I grabbed one of them cushions we were sitting on and cried all the tears of my body for a long long time sobbing and shaking and basically WHY WHY WHY and What the Fuck is so wrong with me.

My mistress was very proud of her achievement and sent me home early for reasons I don’t remember too well one of them being something like dependence on the centre FFS. Isn’t that what you are supposed to do?

So June and July I survived in an apartment with a Domremy’s alumni.

He fucked off I lost the apartment on Darling street and I remember being right next to the Olympic Stadium and see a poor bugger right up my street running a marathon with his white shorts stained with green shit …literally.

We used to meet each other for a drink or something ironically and as I was up on my way to meet another Domremy female friend for the umpteenth time I took a short cut across an Olympic parking and stopped and asked the young attendant for a cigarette. He did not have any but ended up preaching for the next 2 hours after which I went straight back home to ponder.

So apparently speaking of that memory of mine I am rambling again since it seems I have said most of this before with a different angle.

Anyway let’s get back to the religious journey

From zealous Catholic with masses in Latin and all

To a lapse Catholic

To an “evangelical Christian” August 12th 1976

To a Cult member zealous “Christian” protestantised and evangelicalised and cormierised to the core on October 12th 1976 to June 10th 1988 for the first run.

All of my twenties and when someone asked about the 80’s I usually joked that I was in jail for most of the 80’s and I missed most of them.

  • ·         12-10-1976           20           First Entry (Manic Episode)
  • ·         10-06-1978          22           1st Wedding
  • ·         01-05-1979          23           Gershom (Vermont)
  • ·         16-01-1982          26           Phoebe (Winnipeg)
  • ·         04-09-1983         27           Priscille-Eve (Montreal)
  • ·         1985                       29           Toronto
  • ·         10-06-1988         32           First Departure (Kids 9, 6, 4)
  • ·         March 1989         33           First time to see the kids in 9 months (9, 7, 5)
  • ·         24-08-89              33           Dad passed away
  • ·         June 1990            34           Second Entry
  • ·         June 1991            35           End of one year “probation”
  • ·         14-03-1992          36           Second Departure from the cult (Kids 12, 10, 8)

So what are the numbers now? Almost 12 years the first time 1 year 8 months or 10 months if you count from August 12th. Let’s say 12 years and 8 months for now.

2 years “break” without really breaking in mind and spirit.

1 year and 9 months consisting of one year of probation at the Berube’s and 9 months of “marital” life without the kids living with us and with hardly seeing them at all with one or two supervised meal IIRC.

So the utter slavery lasted like 16 years and 5 months even though it continued for many years after one does not heal that quickly. 14 years and 5 months on indoctrination and blackmail do not help.
I thought I had had 10 years of “freedom” LOL but now I realised it was only 9 years.

5 years of what I called “bread and water” with no relationships at all

All I remember is nightmares… the dreams were that we were all back together as a happy family mum dad and kids and all… the nightmares were waking up to the sad reality that it wasn’t so.

And 4 years of “sowing my wild oats” double LOL

Ending up in Australia in September 2001 memorable date despite the delays in flights.

The only date I don’t remember really is the date I “became” an atheist.

I was baptised 4 times, FOUR TIMES.

Once as a baby twice in the cult Easter 1977? And another time much later after a relapse. 
And once again here at the Church of Christ along with Sue which she reminds me of regularly LOL. (November 2002?)

I started my blog in 2009 and I remember having a program called E-Sword for years using it mainly for pasting and copying bible verses

(a book I had read and still have here with all the tick marks 7 times on the OT and 12 times on the NT with no such intended magical numbers. These are the times I have COMPLETED my readings not counting the many many times I started without finishing either dying in Exodus or Chronics and all the other readings and studies I read.)

So how did it happen? I don’t know it is like my story I said on TV once about the cult.  They say if you put a frog in cold water and raise the temperature gradually. It’s gonna boil without ever attempting to escape.  Which is more than likely an urban legend, a pure myth but explains the situation and time well.

Strangely enough my 2 other friends who have left the cult and all the others I am not sure where they all stand but the two that left that I was in contact with are still quite religious in one form or another having retransformed the lies they learned to make them fit somehow where I took a totally different road not better or worse.

In the end it does not matter, we will all die nothing will happen, and that’s it, we will be quickly forgotten and our mark will be long gone.
My words, his words, her words will be nothing but dispersed atoms of oxygen and nitrogen and argon and carbon dioxide: Hot air in other words

The gases that humans breathe in are nitrogen, oxygen, argon and carbon dioxide, with nitrogen in the largest proportion and carbon dioxide in the smallest proportion. The gases that humans breathe out are the same, although more carbon dioxide and less oxygen is present.

In the end it does not matter, we will all die nothing will happen, and that’s it, we will be quickly forgotten AND no one can PROVE the CONTRARY.

The more I “think” about it the very idea of this *shaking my head here*  of this 


“god” for lack of another word well is just that:


*(so “mysterious in his ways yeah right)

The omnipotent all powerful god who gives you cancer and what not.

Prayer is nothing short of talking to yourself ( or to a friend or a psychologist) it only allows you to solve problems in your head as simple as should I get an oil change or not or more complex at times.

Anyway none of this will change anything some will even quote Revelations to me LOL

Let the one who does wrong continue to do wrong; let the vile person continue to be vile; let the one who does right continue to do right; and let the holy person continue to be holy."

And so it goes…

In the meanwhile people can continue to believe 
in an Olam Ha-Ba where

Everything was beautiful and Nothing Hurt.