In the silent hour of the night, as I lay half asleep, my seven selves sat together
and thus conversed in whispers:

 

First Self: Here, in this madman, I have dwelt all these years, with naught to do but

renew his pain by day and recreate his sorrow by night. I can bear my fate no longer,

and now I must rebel.

 

Second Self: Yours is a better lot than mine, brother, for it is given me to be this

madman's joyous self. I laugh his laughter and sing his happy hours, and with thrice

winged feet I dance his brighter thoughts. It is I that would rebel against my weary existence.

 

Third Self: And what of me, the love-ridden self, the flaming brand of wild passion

and fantastic desires? It is I the love-sick self who would rebel against this madman.

 

Fourth Self: I, amongst you all, am the most miserable, for naught was given me

but the odious hatred and destructive loathing. It is I, the tempest-like self, the one

born in the black caves of Hell, who would protest against serving this madman.

 

Fifth Self: Nay, it is I, the thinking self, the fanciful self, the self of hunger and thirst,

the one doomed to wander without rest in search of unknown things and things not yet

created; it is I, not you, who would rebel.

 

Sixth Self: And I, the working self, the pitiful labourer, who, with patient hands,

and longing eyes, fashion the days into images and give the formless elements new

and eternal forms--it is I, the solitary one, who would rebel against this restless madman.

 

Seventh Self: How strange that you all would rebel against this man, because each and

every one of you has a preordained fate to fulfil. Ah! could I but be like one of you, a self

with a determined lot! But I have none, I am the do-nothing self, the one who sits in

the dumb, empty nowhere and nowhen, when you are busy re-creating life.

Is it you or I, neighbours, who should rebel?

 

When the seventh self thus spake the other six selves looked with pity upon him

but said nothing more; and as the night grew deeper one after the other went to sleep

enfolded with a new and happy submission.

 

But the seventh self remained watching and gazing at the nothingness, which is behind all things.

Victoria Day (in French: Fête de la Reine), colloquially known as May Two-four, May Long, or May Run, is a Canadian statutory holiday celebrated on the last Monday before or on 24 May, in honour of both Queen Victoria's birthday and the current reigning Canadian sovereign's official birthday. It has been marked since before Canada
was formed, originally falling on the sovereign's actual birthday, and
continues to be celebrated across the country on a fixed date and in
various fashions, also being considered an informal mark of the
beginning of the summer season. As a federal holiday, Victoria Day is a
holiday for Quebec; however, in 2003 the government of Quebec made the provincial holiday of National Patriots' Day always fall concurrently with Victoria Day.

The birthday of the monarch was a day for celebration in Canada long before Confederation, with the first legislation regarding the event being in 1834 passed by the parliament of the Province of Canada to officially recognize 24 May as the Queen's birthday.^[1] It was noted that on that date in 1854 – the 35th birthday of Queen Victoria – some 5,000 residents of Canada West gathered in front of Government House (near present day King and Simcoe Streets in Toronto) to "give cheers to their queen,"^[2] and on Victoria Day 1866, the town of Omemee, also in Canada West, mounted a day-long fête to mark the occasion, including a gun salute at midnight, pre-dawn serenades, picnics, athletic competitions, a display of illuminations, and a torch-light procession.^[3]
Following the death of Queen Victoria in 1901, 24 May was by imperial decree made Empire Day throughout the British Empire,
while, over the ensuing decades, the official date in Canada of the
reigning sovereign's birthday changed through various royal
proclamations: for Edward VII it continued by yearly proclamation to be observed on 24 May, but was 3 June for George V, 23 June for Edward VIII (their actual birthdays), and various days between 20 May and 14 June through George VI's reign as king of Canada. Elizabeth II's first birthday as sovereign was the last to be celebrated in June; the haphazard format was abandoned in 1952, when the Governor-General-in-Council moved Empire Day to the Monday before 25 May, and Elizabeth's official birthday in Canada was by regular vice-regal proclamations made to fall on this same date every year between 1953 and 1957, when the link was made permanent.^[1] The following year, Empire Day was renamed Commonwealth Day, and in 1977 it was moved to the second Monday in March, leaving the Monday before 24 May solely as Victoria Day.

The reigning Canadian monarch has been in Canada for his or her
official birthday twice: the first time being on 20 May 1939, when King
George VI was on a coast-to-coast tour of Canada and his official
birthday was celebrated with a Trooping the Colour ceremony on Parliament Hill.^[4] The second time was when Queen Elizabeth II was in Canada from 17 May to 25 May 2005, to mark the centennial of the entries of Saskatchewan and Alberta into Confederation; no events were organized to acknowledge this fact.

Victoria Day celebrations were marred by tragedy in 1881, when a passenger ferry named Victoria overturned in the Thames River, near London, Ontario.
The boat departed in the evening with 600 to 800 people on board –
three times the allowable passenger capacity – and capsized part way
across the river, drowning some 182 individuals, including a large
number of children who had been with their families for Victoria Day
picnics at Springbank Park. The event came to be known as the Victoria Day disaster.

 

YEAH! - and a day off work. 

 

Likes:

Pastries, Cheeses, quiet nights alone & the warm fuzzy feeling
that even if the world goes to hell you can say, "I told you so"

Dislikes:

Encroachers, tight collars, irresponsible pet owners and solicitors of any kind.


I'm currently dealing with two of the above.

A pair of scissors would fix them both.

In some medical contexts, a lump protruding into a blood vessel
is described as a structural encroachment.

Several posts back I mentioned fires of war on the horizon.

I'm smelling smoke now. . . . and some strange meat I don't recognise.

I have pieces in play and have committed to a course of action.
   
The stage is set .  Stay tuned ...


As for this yellow t-shirt, I'm bare chested cuttin' that fucking collar off with a box cutter.


That is SO MUCH BETTER - this may become a favorite shirt.