Fuck It I'm 50

What a fucking self-indulgent sad day. But nonetheless I got a lot done. I zoomed ahead on the de Young iphone tour and started to truly clean out the editing/tape storage room.

Demons flying like laughing banshees, while I use my best physiological tactics to bat them away. They are only New Year harpies.

I was talking to my friend Maw and I told her that I am the one, the kid in the audience that kills Tinker Bell. I have this vague memory of going to a kiddies play with my Dad and sister at Christmas time, after he and my mom split, and the stage actors implored us to shout out and insist that Tinker Bell live. If I remember correctly, if Peter and Wendy stop believing in her, she dies, so we were all instructed to shout out that we believe in her, and live she did, raising from the stage floor on a trapeze like wire much to our relief, much to our child inducted fear of a an unknown called death.

I shouted for Tinker Bell, but no more.

I want to kill Tinker. She was the one I banked on last year, I bought the stock, I believed in magic. And she is a liar. And I am a sucker.

This year I am stronger and clearer. And while I think about it, not meaner, but more circumspect where I spend my time, live my short life.

I don’t believe in magic and I know I have to be clear. Hope is the basis for action, not magic.

I want Tinker Bell to live if she can get her shit together, then I am down; I’ll work with her.

This is what Wikipedia has to say about her:

Though sometimes ill-tempered[5] and vindictive (getting the Lost Boys to shoot arrows at Wendy),[6] at other times she is helpful and kind to Peter. The extremes in her personality are explained in-story by the fact that a fairy’s size prevents her from holding more than one feeling at a time, so when she is angry she has no counterbalancing compassion. Fairies can enable others to fly by sprinkling them with fairy dust (sometimes called “pixie dust” by Disney, and presented as “starstuff” in Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson‘s novel series).[1] At the end of the novel the suggestion is that Tinker Bell has died in the year after Wendy and the Darlings leave Neverland, and Peter has no memory of her at all.

And then the posting goes onto say:

In 2009, Tinkerbell will be receiving her own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

And yep, I had a crush on Michael Jackson when I was seven or so…he took that magic thing a little too seriously, it worked for a while.

And on that lovely note, here are some images that connote superstition and luck. What the hell, it’s almost the New Year…