Eris in the machine | Thumper’s Forge

Chester and I both had projects we wanted to work on – he was determined to declutter his apartment, and I really needed to write [self-serving drumroll] a book proposal. But we had both procrastinated, so we decided to team up and be responsible friends. The plan was that I would go to his house and commandeer his computer, while he filled boxes with anything that no longer aroused joy. And we listened to soothing music while we worked.

It was a solid strategy. And I kept scaring her.

We were supposed to meet over Memorial Day weekend to begin with, but I canceled because my apartment complex accidentally had Pukwudgie towed away. out of my assigned parking spot (which is quite a Discordian tale in itself), and I was too stressed about getting him home safely to worry about anything else. Chester understood and suggested postponing for a week.

Eris looks like, “Okay, then. It’s time to activate some protocols. (Image via Pixabay.)

The following Saturday I woke up with an agonizing gum infection – like, I couldn’t chew, and my right cheek was starting to swell. I called Chester, and he said, “Oh! I have a cold laser, which effectively treats pain and inflammation. Come and I’ll take care of you. I told him that I sincerely appreciated the offer, but that I was just going to take some antibiotics and sleep until I felt better.

To which he replied, “Wow. You… really don’t want to finish this proposal. I’m curious what obstacle you will manifest next.

Under normal circumstances, I would be prepared to harbor the idea that I am unconsciously manufacturing seizures in order to avoid responsibility. However, my face hurt and I had already engaged in victimization, so I mumbled something about being master of my own domain and went back to bed.

It was around this time that my blog stopped working properly.

Each time a Patheos author posts an essay, the post is queued, to be automatically added to their channel’s Facebook page at regular two-hour intervals. These posts are usually displayed with a cover photo and a title, but for some reason when I uploaded a new post, it appeared on the Facebook page as just a link to Patheos dot com, with no image or description. Clicking the link would lead to the actual post, but there was nothing visual to encourage readers to click the link in the first place.

Worried, I contacted Patheos and said, “Help?” And they were like, “Huh. It’s really strange. We take care of it right away. And then it happened to my next post, and the next two posts, until I emailed Patheos like, “WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?!?” And they would respond like, “WE DON’T KNOW AND IT SCARIES US.”

“So help me, I’m going to hit him in the face with a damn apple if he doesn’t understand this.” (Image via Pixabay.)

Eventually, it was determined that there was an incompatibility between Facebook and the auto-scheduling software, which created an issue that somehow only affected my blog. And because it was only giving me trouble, I suddenly realized what needed to be done to fix the technical issues.

Do you remember how a few months ago I said I thought Eris wanted me to write a book? Since then, I wanted to make a proposal, but every time I tried to work on it, impostor syndrome got the better of me and I ended up blogging instead. I can control blogs; Submitting my work to an editor and waiting for it to go, maybe or not, “Ew,” is an exercise in handing things over to a higher power, and a scary exercise at that.

Except that in this case, I felt like the Higher Power in question was starting to get irritable with me. But just to confirm, I pulled out these lithomantic stones that I was playing with.

“Hey, Eris,” I asked, sitting cross-legged on my mat. “If I submit this proposal, will my blog start posting properly on Facebook? And I dropped the stones.

Jupiter, Mercury and Chance triangulated perfectly around the Indicator, while Saturn rolled on the other side of the circle and the Sun bounced completely.

When a stone lands outside the reading space, I tend to interpret it as something unrelated to the material on the floor in front of me. If we move on to Chaos Magical Theory, the Sun translates to Ego, so I figured out that Ego is no longer running the show. But Ego also governs illusions, so by not being part of the divinatory mosaic, the illusions of my own creation were discarded, and only the truth could be seen.

I’m just saying she didn’t say no. (Image via Pixabay.)

Chase arrived an hour later with some pizza and a yearning for some Screen Ireland horror movie indoctrination, and I met him at the door.

“There’s been a slight change of plans,” I said. “Eris is holding my blog hostage, and we need to save it.”

Unfortunately, we didn’t do much about the proposal, as we hadn’t hung out together in a while, and it was extremely important that we find out about the latest rumors swirling around the various communities we both participate in. . So for about 120 minutes we felt like we were hooked up to polygraph machines: “True…false…true…true…okay, funny story about that, but wrong…” But I finally made it to Chester’s, and the next morning, after forcing Mike to proofread it twice, I sent off the proposal to let her know her fate.

What happens next is anyone’s guess: I haven’t thrown any rocks, drawn any cards, or made any points about it, because I’m trying my best to accept that Eris has her own agenda, and I have finished the task she gave me. . The end result will be a revelation, but She will set it all in place. I’m just here for the ride right now.

All this to announce this: I added a new post to my blog last Saturday, and two hours after clicking “publish”, it appeared on the Patheos Pagan Facebook page, the cover photo and title displayed without mistake.

In fact, it was posted twice. Which was weird. But I wasn’t going to complain about it.

Insert the Samantha Stevens nose twitch sound effect here, with maybe a car crash or an explosion or something in the background. (Image via Pixabay.)

I can’t pretend to know what grand design Eris has in store. I mean, I got the proposal and got my blog back, but maybe a book isn’t the goal.

Perhaps this is just one of a myriad of small actions that will come together in a wild and spectacular way. For example, I submit a proposal, and in five weeks, Gregg Abbott derails an NRA fundraiser by accidentally kissing with Dan Patrick.

Even if I don’t getting a book deal at this company, just knowing that I played my messy creative role is more than enough.

Do you like what you read? You cannot buy me a coffee on this subject.

Oh, no more discord, you say? But of course! Follow the fivefold law of Twitter, instagram, Facebookand Zazzle.

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