Solstice and Solitude

Sunday, Dec 15, 2013

I learn from my mistakes. 

I tip my hand and the players read my tell. One sees my cards so bluntly that I can no longer hide them from the others.  It looks like a bad bet.  No one wins with this kind of hand. They throw their money in the center, just enough to keep me in the game and make me think I still have a chance...

The test is simple...endanger the Masquerade to prove beyond a shadow that I am the superior Dragon.  One simple task; two players; years of consequences...

I stare them down and put on my best game face.  The bet is to me. I looked at my cards again, carefully tipping them forward once more.  The odds are against me.  Less than a five percent chance I will win. Raise...

Children are easy; give them what they want and let them do what they want. All I have to do is stand there and make sure they don't die.  It's a test of inaction...

Call...

Walk in, complete the task and end this...

Fold...

I concede...

A straight on the river...counting cards is easy when they move so slow...now they're pissed because I quit.

He doesn't understand why I won't even take his test...

They don't understand why I won't play their game...

I learn from my mistakes.

Old Blue Eyes

August 10, 2013 - Chicago, IL

"To the red rising moon, and loud and deep / the nightingale is singing from the steep." - Keats

I have to give the bold credit, they certainly don't hide their disdain for others.  If it were anyone else, I would chalk up their inability to hide their feelings to ineptitude, but I know that's not the case.  What bothers me is that their methods indicate that they think we, the people, don't see them for what and who they are.  They think because we practice transparency that we're therefore immune to understanding deception.

The opposite is true.  The shadows aren't dark; there's an entire spectrum of grey that makes up the darkness that most people see.

Trespassing, whether during a performance or in defense of your position doesn't make it less rude; and hiding behind your job or feigned social niceties doesn't make it any less rude.

Equilibrium is a natural phenomenon; go too far in one direction and equal forces will bring you back.  The city remains in balance and continued attempts to assert authority over those perceived to be weaker, or stronger, will only result in an over-correction.

If the game you play has no rules, then don't expect those rules to save you.

-Jon Clay

In the Land of the Blind

July 27, 2013 - Chciago, IL

Do people know how loud they are?  Some, I recognize do it on purpose out of a misguided need for attention.  When their actions and outfits don't yell "Look at me!" enough they default to making more noise than most people can possibly tolerate.  Never before have I realized this then in the absence of sight.

Yes, it was my fault, both the incident and the reaction, but as I told more than one person, if I'm going to go blind it's going to be on my terms.  It hurt much less than I thought it would, a good sign that I'm moving past all of those human quirks I used to have.  A tug, a tear, and a pop and it was over.

And that's when the noises started to flood the room. Conversations that apparently can only be held at a full on shout, necklaces and heels and plate male all creating a cascading avalanche of input.  This is what they mean by overclocking.

My sire, as usual, was correct.  With silence comes serenity.  Like every lesson it's good to reflect, now that my eyes can once again see and my mind is clear.  There are things out there that have many creative ways to get to us.  Likely, they're making as much noise as we are, so we must progress cautiously into the land of the blind.  There are things that are capable of seeing better than us.  Unless we learn to quiet ourselves down, they will find us before we find them.

Always,

J. Clay

On Normalcy

Scientifically, being normal means falling within the accepted values of society.  As I peruse the various messages on the various lists of which I am subscribed, I often wonder why it is that so many people seem to be so upset by seemingly random things.

How do these people make it night to night?  How do they ever finish a project when one little thing seems to throw them off?

I know it's not just me.  I look around at the individuals whom I have the privilege of calling associates, and I don't see these eccentric traits in them.  Are we "normal" then?  Or are we the outliers who have found each other?

Curious,

J. Clay

A-muse-ment, June 2013

Chicago, June 2013 - A close examination of the word, "amusement" dictates a common understanding of both root words and their adjoining prefixes and suffixes.  In this case we look at muse - to inspire.  A-muse, then means to detract or take away from something.  A-muse-ment then means the state of having things taken away.  I find it a bit shocking, as the number of people who expect me to judge their behavior seems to grow monthly, that "for my amusement" is a valid choice for their behavior.  Surely they have something better to do than distract themselves.  If they don't, then we are surely a damned species.  I think of the tasks that need accomplishing on any given night, and I weep false tears for those who have nothing to do.  They know not the intense pleasure of a job well done or a project finished.  They prefer to spill their issue and their intricate mental frailties upon the general public.  This, ladies and gentlemen, is why we can't have nice things.

Yours,

J. Clay

His Honor, Or Ours? - 2012

Chicago, 2012 - After the NATO incident, I think one of my distinguished colleagues put it best - no one managed to blow themselves up this time.  Whether that individual knew how deep that resonated with me is a matter for consideration at a different time.  What is more important to discuss at this time is the essential question we are now faced with as a city.  Racist or Criminal?

Shockingly, these nomenclatures did not go well with the masses.  "Mr. Richmond is not a racist," they would tell me, "and Mr. Skinner is not a Criminal."  They say these things as if I, and others, are not acutely aware that colloquial name calling is not fit for "our kind."

But let us examine the two individuals for their merits as holders of Praxis.  Mr. Richmond is the clear favorite - he has the backing of the Prisci Council (who has just recently decided that they are now relevant) and most of the Covenants.  Mr. Skinner, however, has tradition on his side - stepping in to fill the shoes of his own Covenant mate seems natural.  His demeanor and attitude are also akin to someone who is comfortable managing a large group.

But both of them are willing to hand things out like candy in order to get their way, and that is something that just doesn't sit right with this Chicago native.

Bribery is a time honored tradition, but the moment you talk about it, it's no longer bribery.  You don't hand someone an envelope, you bake them a pie.  "My wife made this delicious pie for you and your family, I hope you enjoy it.  Give me a call when you make a decision on those contracts."  No mention of the envelope.  At worst there might be a statement of "She made it with extra filling, just like you like it."

So it seems we are in a bit of bind, and we are left with the headlining question.  Will this change be to our benefit, or to one of theirs.  Is this for his honor, or for ours?

Sincerely,

J. C.

Danger - 2001

Chicago, September 11, 2001 - The daytime is dangerous, not just for us, but for all.  Even when we who can stay awake all day and watch horrified as the humans fire their creations at each other, endangering the great structures we helped them build, we are crippled with ineptitude.

The calls came in quickly from many sources.  The Sears Tower was being evacuated because it was a potential target.  All that we have worked for might be destroyed while we sit and watch.  Our retainers are helpless.  Enemies across the sea have declared war...a war that has nothing to do with us, yet one errant plane and one of us might be destroyed.  The chatter is that it is religious in nature.  A jihad.  Are we really any better than those who would sacrifice themselves simply to make a point?

It is behavior that cannot be reasoned with, and because of that, I fear that our friends in the Circle and the Lance might get ideas to get out of balance.

I do not weep for those who are lost, but I am sad I cannot stand there and hear their stories for myself.  This curse must be lifted.

Yours,

J.C.

The Lights - 1992

Chicago, 1992 - Surely I can't be the only one who saw it?  In the space of one second the sequence was clear: 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8.  Luca said he saw it, but I don't think his eyes are fast enough to catch the actual flux.  Although the power surge caused by the high frequency radio waves seems to have been the cause, I have yet to discover why anyone would be using decameter band to communicate.

I don't trust what the engineers told me, that it was to test the capabilities of their newest radio tower.  Why use that particular sequence of pulses when it would have been easier to simply broadcast a static wave and slowly increase the power.  This begs for further review.

Legacy - 1929

Chicago, 1929 - Something about the way that the city stood there as the news was announced inspired me to take a closer look at the recorded history.  Ever since I joined society, I knew the name had sounded familiar.  John Stone.  It took a little digging, but in the end it wasn't that hard, after all, when you're the city's first recorded execution, it's bound to make a few history books, even if it's just local history.

There he was.  John Stone, executed by hanging for the rape and murder of Lucretia Thompson, 1840.  It was before my time, but having spent my fair share of time crawling through the archives at the Tribune, I'd be surprised if people didn't already know.  This wasn't the scoop I was looking for.  More important to me was always the why, instead of the who.  So what if Prince Stone had been a murderous rapist in his mortal life, weren't we all something different now?

They said the Crow took him.  Maybe they reclaimed him.  Wasn't he supposed to be some sort of childe of a childe of the founder of that barbaric covenant?  Maybe they don't like it when their grand-childer run away and start a city that values peace and prosperity over murder and mayhem.  Or maybe it wasn't them at all.  Maybe it was something simpler, like they said.  A stray bullet at the wrong time and I guess we're all ash.

I should look into that.

Yours, ever faithfully;

J.C.