Saturday, January 30, 2021

Interview with a Bored Goddess: Queen Brighid the Bright

My goodness, have we ever strayed from our Mission Statement here at The Gods Are Bored! How long has it been since a deity sat for an interview? Can't even recall the last time. Thankfully, Imbolc is upon us, and Queen Brighid the Bright has settled in by the fire with a piping hot cup of Irish breakfast tea. Please give a warm and wonderful "Gods Are Bored" welcome to the Goddess Brighid the Bright!

Anne: How's the tea, great Goddess?

Queen Brighid the Bright: First rate! Your firewood is not well seasoned, though. 

Anne: Our first shipment was so well-seasoned that we burnt through it all. Now we're stuck with this smoky stuff that sizzles and leaves creosote in our chimney.

Queen Brighid the Bright: Well, we can't have that, now can we? (Blows on the fire, and it leaps with purple flame.)

Anne: Snap! Thank you!

Queen Brighid the Bright: Anne. Anne! What's this?

Anne: Emmm .... the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle? (hides her head)

Queen Brighid the Bright: Well! I'm not inclined to scold you, Anne, but what the hell?

Anne: It's a pandemic, Goddess. I'm basically in quarantine. So I sit around here and cross stitch and do the Sunday crossword puzzle.

Queen Brighid the Bright: Like a geezer.

Anne: Oh, you cut me to the quick! Don't think I don't know that these stodgy hobbies are pathetic. But take it from me, they beat Twitter.

Queen Brighid the Bright: Twitter? You mean the sound birds make?

Anne: Close enough. But fear not, dear Goddess. I have enrolled in an online course called "Navigating Tower Time". I'm going to start it tomorrow.

Queen Brighid the Bright: Well, see that you do! We don't want to get lax in our spiritual path, do we?

Anne: It's hard not to get lax in everything when I'm pent up at home, day after day, week after week, month after month.

Queen Brighid the Bright: Chin up, Anne! Imbolc is here, the lambs are being born, it's halfway to equinox, and my goodness! Your larder is bulging.

Anne: Pandemic supplies.

Queen Brighid the Bright: What are these six bottles of Clorox all in a row?

Anne: Five mistakes based on a shortage.

Queen Brighid the Bright: Four dozen rolls of toilet paper?

Anne: We ordered it in bulk from Amazon.

Queen Brighid the Bright: How are Amazons to work with? I should imagine they drive a hard bargain. I've never met one.

Anne: They're ruthless, and they dominate the landscape. Great Goddess, will you listen to a petition?

Queen Brighid the Bright: Of course! I'm not as bored as I used to be, but I still grant petitions! What can I help you with, Anne?

Anne: Place your gentle hand on my daughters.

Queen Brighid the Bright: Done. Anything else?

Anne: Protect me from COVID-19.

Queen Brighid the Bright: Perhaps The Morrigan would do that better. She is crackerjack with corvids.

Anne: COVID-19 is the name of the disease. It doesn't have anything to do with crows.

Queen Brighid the Bright: What a ridiculous name! What happened to descriptive disease names like smallpox and yellow fever?

Anne: Good question. Maybe people would take it more seriously if it was called "drowning on dry land."

Queen Brighid the Bright: Well, whatever it's called, I'll protect you from it. Looks like you've got all kinds of solid Appalachian magic going on already. But I'm always glad to pitch in.

Anne: I imagine you'll be really busy on Imbolc, but if you have a chance, pop in. I have a wonderful smudge stick that my daughter The Fair gave me for Yule. I'm going to purify the whole house.

Queen Brighid the Bright: As well you should. And keep the faith, Anne. Quarantines don't last forever. It only seems that way.

Anne: And how, Goddess. And how.

Thursday, January 21, 2021


Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," broadcasting from the Independent Republic of Johnsonia! Did you watch that fluffy inaugural celebration on Wednesday night? I did, and I wept the whole way through. Seriously, Jon Bon Jovi singing "Here Comes the Sun?" And did you see Yo Yo Ma? For the love of fruit flies. And then fireworks at the end. Johnsonia is going to send the Biden administration a nice pecan pie!

Don't know about you, but when I was growing up I had lots of cousins that were good friends to me. Now they're all scattered to the wind, and I don't even try to keep up with them. I carry a grudge against my father's people for wanting to sell the farm, and some of my mom's nieces and nephews climbed on the Trump train. Meh, cousins. 

Therefore I was decidedly unenthusiastic when I got a text message from one of my cousins, asking if she could give my phone number to her older brother. This particular brother was a blister on my heel growing up. I have no fond memories of him. But I'm not heartless, so I said sure, fling him my digits.

He called a few days later, and it happened that Mr. J was out. So I picked up the call.

Y'all see me here, I can blather on and on with no brakes whatsoever. But get me in a social situation, or on a phone line, and I have next to nothing to say. Mostly that doesn't matter, though. My experience is that the most I ever need to say is "uh huh" and "oh yes, you're right." And that covers it.

So this cousin starts off somewhat sane, politely asking me about my family and telling me how much I meant to him back in the day (not mutual). But it soon turned out that his real reason for calling was to see if I knew about The Storm.

Yes, that Storm. The lunatic lives in Florida, so at first I thought he might be talking about an off-season hurricane, but no.

He launched into a long diatribe about the Deep State that included the most ridiculous things you have never heard, and me telling him that I did some anti-fascist actions didn't even slow him down. Antifa is "infiltrated," like pretty much everything else from Maine to Hawaii.

And when I called him on his bullshit, which I did frequently, he said, "Anne Janette, you know I'm smart, right?" (Not really) Then he delivered up the juiciest: "It's all over the Internet. All you have to do is look."

Just look on the Internet?

Well, for a hot second I thought he might be right, because hardly anyone believes that the Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus is nearly extinct. I know I've talked myself blue about the tree octopus, because it's all over the Internet.

I finally got the windbag off the line by telling him I had firewood to stack. Yes, readers. I used that very excuse. Wasn't even fake. After getting an earful of QAnon, I grimly stacked a cord of hardwood like it was cotton candy.

Gave this no more thought until the day before Inauguration, when I saw him trying to call me again. I sent him a text and said I didn't have time in my life for advanced crazy.

To which he replied that, if I know what's good for me, I'll go right away and tank up my car with gas and get a big wad of cash and be ready for Judgment Day Armageddon The Apocolypse the Overthrow of America by a Worldwide Papal Conspiracy That Controls Everything. He said I should be very afraid. Where would I even go? Did I know?

I texted him back, "I'll go to Camden. No one cares about Camden."

KaChing! Anne for the win! That shut him up. Because of course it's true.

There's a streak of crazy a mile wide that runs through my mother's family. You can literally trace it backwards in the family tree. All the same, it's sad to see someone so deluded that he thinks the world is going to come to an end because the members of the Supreme Court are pedophiles. What a burden, these delusions of grandeur! ("I know what I'm talking about, I've done my research on the Internet!")

If any of my cousins are reading this, please be aware. My happy writing career was put out of business by the Internet. In my reference book work, I had to fact-check everything. And Gods forbid I misspelled someone's name! No one knows better than I do what a stinking swamp of misinformation can be found on the Internet.

Ever notice that I don't fact-check anything on this blog? I don't have to! It's the Internet!

Gosh, now I can say I know someone who believes QAnon. Where They Go One, They Go Off The Rails.

Really wish these people would be Raptured.

Wednesday, January 20, 2021

Who Else?

 Who else feels like they can finally breathe again? Is it too soon to be hopeful?

Here in Johnsonia, we're absolutely delighted.

Monday, January 18, 2021

Read This for Laughs! (Do I Ever Lead You Wrong?)

 Well, proving positively that she is a product of my genomic sequence plus someone else's, my daughter The Fair has written a funny little piece about playing pro football! Now, dear readers, it costs you nothing to peruse this piece, but she gets paid by the click ... so won't you click for me? I wouldn't bother if it wasn't just the sort of silly thing we all need right now.


Thursday, January 07, 2021

Official Statement from the Grand Wazoo of Johnsonia on the Recent Traitorous Rebellion in the USA

 January 7, 2021

The leaders of the Independent Republic of Johnsonia hereby express our dismay at the unsuccessful but nevertheless alarming insurrection in the United States of America that occurred on January 6, 2021.

 For 200 years, the United States has been held in high esteem (not always deserved) as a bastion of freedom and justice. The reckless and lawless behavior of January 6, urged upon a rabble by the sitting president, is a stark departure from the orderly operation of government most often associated with America.

Good leadership is important, and the lack thereof can be catastrophic. The inability of Donald Trump to govern the United States is the entire reason that Johnsonia declared independence in favor of home rule. We see now that our decision in this regard was a sound one. Our thoughts and prayers go out to the citizens of the United States, in hopes that this dark episode will not be repeated in this or any other era.

Respectfully submitted,

Anne Johnson

Grand Wazoo, Independent Republic of Johnsonia

Friday, January 01, 2021

Pardon Me While I Wallow in Self Pity and Nostalgia

 Oh, Wretched New Year! This would have been my 10th year marching in the Philadelphia Mummers Parade. Alas, quite sensibly, the 2021 parade was canceled. Here I sit, on yet another day of self-imposed quarantine, dodging COVID and watching Mummers recordings on t.v.

Strutting down memory lane is the best I can do.

EXHIBIT A: 2017 with The Fair

EXHIBIT B: My 3rd Parade, 2013

EXHIBIT C: OUR 1st Place Finish, 2018 (I'm in the rear in the red hat -- it was 6 degrees F at the time.)

EXHIBIT D:  2019 on Broad Street

EXHIBIT E: 2020 St. Patrick's Day, Luckily Held in February, Most Recent Strut

EXHIBIT F: Gritty and I Need Another Assignment ... Maybe Overthrowing the Oligarchy


I'm crossing my fingers that 2021 will bring us a new, effective president and an end to this pandemic nightmare. COVID is real, it's a killer, and I wouldn't be in the parade this year if I was the only one missing it.

Stay warm, stay safe, Happy New Year!