Batthan: He's demon as fuck!

I'll tell y'all, its a whole new world. Certain insights have me all warm and glowy in a nice fuck you way. Btw, not to worry, I've cleared it with my mom. Sometimes you just have to say "fuck" - she's cool with it. Ooo, let's take this a step further, yes? I'll get to the demon part in a sec.

What makes Fuck so bad, anyhow? He's fully versatile and hard-working. You can make almost a whole sentence out of Fuck ("Fuck that fucking fuck!"). Fuck is a conscientious helper, willing to bolster any word in need of some support ("Unfuckingbelieveable!"). Fuck's got a lot of energy, too! More than likely, if you see Fuck, you're gonna find some exclamation points in the very near vicinity. So if Fuck's such a swell guy, what's the big deal? I've thought of two reasons: reputation and sex.

Merriam-Webster defines Fuck as "copulate" which means sex, which means you're not supposed to have anything to do with it - according to some* - unless you're married and trying to further the human species. Anything outside those parameters is wrong (some* say). So by that reasoning, only those married adults over 18 trying to conceive a child can have anything to do with Fuck. But they might not want to because...

Fuck has a flat out bad reputation. I picture Fuck played by James Dean, all red-windbreakered and deep with his furrowed brow. We've been told by our parents and teachers that we shouldn't play with Fuck, much less hang out with him or even try to understand him. He's a BAD WORD.

Fuck all that. I like my friend, Fuck, and I like playing with him. He's just a word, like any other word, only he's got the added BS job of dealing with the crap people project on to him. That endears him to me.

Like demons!

Bad reputation, for sure (but much less sexy). People are scared of them. Some people have even shared that they're scared of this blog, because of the demon aspect. COME ON. Knowledge is power, for Christ's sake.

Take BATTHAN, for example. HE'S A DEMON, mwahahahahaha...

Batthan is the king of the sun spirits. He and his court are bright demons with golden skin. He is gentle and has the power to make humans wealthy, healthy, powerful, and well-loved. (Yup, still talking about a demon here.) The angels Raphael, Cashael, Dardyhel, and Hanrathaphael have power over Batthan.

Doesn't sound so bad. In fact, Batthan reminds me of my awesome gay boyfriend. Stylin' and lovely with fantastic credit. (Kisses to you, Bestie!) But HE'S A DEMON and ALL DEMONS ARE BAD.

Meh. Snap judgements piss me off. Meet a demon, or someone else you've been told is BAD, and make up your own fucking minds.

*people who should mind their own fucking business
~Thanks to "Dictionary of Demons: Names of the Damned" by Michelle Belanger. Llewellyn Publications, 2010

F-bombs, incoming...

What would happen if you just didn't give a fuck? If you said what you wanted to say, did what you wanted to do, kissed who you wanted to kiss? I'm betting life would feel a lot more like you were living it instead of whatever you're doing now. Whatever I'm doing now, is probably actually more the point.

I shouldn't be this fired up- I just got out of a 2-hr long free class for writers about studio vs. indie blah, blah. The information wasn't groundbreaking, and the outlook the Hollywood-Insider-Guy painted was dismal.

Meh. I'm not even fazed by grim Hollywood Chicken Little bullshit anymore. But I got to thinking on the way home of some of the break-into-the-biz options HIG mentioned and I wondered why I hadn't tried any of them. My best reason - and it sucks - is because my shyness is arresting and I'm scared of my own shadow. How's that for Chicken Little bullshit?

It's the worst excuse, and it's a topic that's been on my mind more than the usual all-the-time-constantly that I examine myself. The WHAT-IFS. What if I suck, what if they hate it, what if he hates me, what if they don't get it...

What if I don't give a fuck? What if I tell people what I really think? I have a reputation for being honest, and I am, unless I'm lying to your face. What if I tell you I'm not interested instead of taking an hour to explain the reasons why you and I aren't such a good idea right now? What if I RSVP "No" to Evites without a benign explanation why I can't make it? What if I tell you, you're wrong, when you are?

What if I don't give a fuck? What if I do what I want to do? People think I already do that. I pole dance, and I write about blood-tinged semen and sociopathic teenage girls. My secret is, that's the tip of the glacier. I can fill reams of paper with the things I want to do and be. What if I tried more? What if I wrote and directed the short that haunts me, even though I have no money, even though I don't know how? Who gives a fuck?

Who would give a fuck if I kissed whoever I wanted? "Who haven't you kissed?" snears Igor from behind a fold in my frontal lobe. I've had make-out dreams about a friend, and I could dismiss my dreams as sweaty manifestations of the day's particular stresses but... I'm curious. So what if...?

Having given my blog addresses to family members recently, I guess I'm putting my money where my mouth is - they don't get a lot of fuck this and fuck that from me. And I guess if I don't give a fuck, it really doesn't matter. (Sorry anyway, Mama and Daddy. Don't stop loving me! xo!)

But think about it: What if you didn't give a fuck? What would you do? What would you say? Who would you kiss?