The Rise and Fall of the Stoned Guest

During periods of stress, people often embrace the mystical, the tribal, the occult, as a means to bring sense and order to a situation or circumstance that otherwise defies logical explanation.

“I’ve been this person, I’ve acted this way,” is the internal dialog running through your mind. “How did this occur?”

Periods of stress are when omens take on greater significance. That’s when one takes a look at the tea leaves surrounding the shattered vessel that represents one’s existence, in order to try and make sense out of it all, and undoubtedly, to read more into the shadows than are actually there.

Okay, yes...yes, there is a point to this. I promise! You see, some of my longtime friends may remember Damien, a demonic/cherubic looking lawn statue that’s figured prominently in such charming stories as “The Stoned Guest,” a lovely tale that our first cat, Thumbkin, told in his personal journal, about his attempts to violate Damien’s stoned orifices. Yes, it’s just as sordid and revolting as it sounds.

But Damien. Ah, there you go. Damien's one of those shadows.

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