Tag: friday 13th

Friday the 13th (2019)

full moon

Okay, folks!  We’re totally screwed! Today is Friday the 13th and tomorrow is the full moon.  And this means– to those who believe the vast, ineffable universe is directed directly at them — that bad stuff is coming down the road.  Personally, I don’t believe the vast, ineffable universe is directed directly at me.  However, I have a healthy respect for folk wisdom– even when it’s wrong.  My assumption is folk wisdom had to come from somewhere.  For example, my mother used to say, “Eat your fish.  It’s brain food!”  I have no idea how she arrived at that conclusion, but come to find out, recent medical science has proven she was absolutely right: eating fish diminishes the risk of dementia.  Obviously, Mom wasn’t privy to research that hadn’t even happened yet; she was just tapping into the folk tales of the time.  And even though I didn’t understand what was going on, this cowboy took it on faith and ate his fish.

Even the most hardcore existentialists among us have to admit our world is full of coincidence, events that are connected for no apparent reason — except they are.  Stop to look in a shop window and some idiot runs a red light through the crosswalk where you would have been standing if you hadn’t stopped to look in a shop window.  Sound familiar?  This stuff happens all the time.  The big question – that nobody’s ever been able to answer — is Why?  So, we make it up.  We assign arbitrary reasons for our actions and events, to satisfy our burning need to make sense of our existence.

Ever since Lucy (Australopithecus) and her girlfriends decided to go for a stroll in Ethiopia 3 million years ago, humans have been trying to get the inside edge on fate, destiny or whatever you want to call it.  We’ve observed the stars, consulted oracles, rolled old bones and cut open chickens.  We’ve danced, prayed, chanted and offered sacrifices to our gods.  We’ve looked for omens and carried lucky charms.  And although it sounds silly in the glaring light of 21st century science, one has to wonder where this stuff came from.  The laws of probability alone say it can’t all be the work of shysters and charlatans.  Some of it must be, (Dare I say it?) based on some long-lost “Eat your fish” facts.

Shakespeare’s Hamlet tells Horatio,

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

And I believe him.  We have not reached the pinnacle of human knowledge.  In fact, we’re not even close.  There’s tons of stuff we haven’t figured out yet.  Five hundred years ago, if you had suggested that diseases were caused by itty-bitty bugs that no one could see, you’d have been burned for a witch.  It’s not outrageous to imagine that, five hundred years from now, people might think we’re barbarians for not understanding the power of the #13 or the effect the moon has on human behaviour.

Here’s a thought.  It’s a scientific fact that the gravity of the moon controls the ebb and flow of the Earth’s oceans, and it’s a scientific fact that the human brain is 73% water.  Think about it!

I’m not saying yea or nay on this whole full moon/Friday the 13th thing, but sometimes it’s a good idea to just take a little bit on faith and metaphorically eat our fish.

Friday 13th — Better Late Than Never

fridayI hate it when I miss Friday the 13th.  It’s the perfect opportunity to point out just how silly superstitions are.  But what the hell?  Better late than never.

I think all reasonable people can agree that superstitions are absurd, and our lives are not governed by foolish folklore and old wives’ tales.  There are physical laws in the universe.  These laws were set down by the gods and Mother Nature in a time before time — and they (and they alone) dictate the scope and skein of our lives.  All the rest of it is just silly hocus-pocus.

For example:

You should never hang a new calendar before January 1st.  That angers the gods who control our future, and they will visit their displeasure upon you for the entire year.  It’s best to leave the new calendar in its original package until after breakfast on the morning of January 1st; then, hang it, when you’re safely into the New Year.  This is not superstition: this is prudent behaviour.

You should never propose — or drink — a toast in water.  The gods demand that offerings to them should be made with strong spirits.  Anything less shows disdain for their power.  The gods will not look kindly on your invocation if you don’t treat them properly (quite rightly!) and, depending on how pissed off they get, they could actually reverse your plea.  Thus, “To your health” could become a very dangerous proposition, indeed.

Under no circumstances should you ever step on a spider.  Mother Nature will not tolerate the casual killing of her children.  She will make it rain.  And not some wimpy April-showers-bring-May-flowers rain, either; she will literally kick your ass with water.

On the other hand, wishing on a star will bring your wish to the attention of the gods who will look upon it — and you — with favour.

Also, the gods love sports and fair play.  Nothing pleases them more than to see athletes and fans brandishing totems or following rituals to beseech their favour.  The gods will reward the faithful and punish the transgressors ruthlessly.  There is no other realm of human endeavour that so clearly shows the delicate and detailed balance of the universe, or the benevolent power of the gods.  The New York Yankees are living proof.  They win because the gods smile upon them — and their fans.  I, myself, have an old and ratty Yankees’ t-shirt which I wear during the playoffs to honour the Baseball Gods.  This is not some childish “lucky charm” but a strong talisman that ensures continued success.  On the other hand, Babe Ruth cursed and the gods hate the Red Sox.  This is a known fact.  They also hate the Dallas Cowboys, the Detroit Pistons , Patrick Roy and Kobe Bryant.  However, they reserve their special, nasty junkyard-dog-hate for the Toronto Maple Leafs who they have damned, for all eternity, for being smug.

Which brings us to the most important natural law of all: don’t be smug.  The gods particularly hate smug people.  Tiger Woods thought he could get away with it, didn’t he?  The guy hasn’t made a decent putt since Elin hit the wrong button on his cell phone and heard what’s-her-name leaving him bimbo-mail.  Similarly, Mel Gibson hasn’t made a respectable movie since Payback in 1999.  Lindsay Lohan, Sarah Ferguson, Shia LaBeouf, Mariah Carey and Al Gore are all examples of what the gods can (and will) do to the smug among us.  The list is long and growing.  So be careful, because the gods hate smug so thoroughly that even an idle word can rain havoc down upon you.  The only way to try to reverse a random act of smuggery is to immediately touch wood and call upon the fox, cleverest of the supernatural animals, to help trick the gods.  Maybe, just maybe …  but for safety’s sake, it’s best just to remain humble.

So let’s forget about all these ridiculous superstitions – Friday the 13th, black cats and broken mirrors.  As we have seen, there is overwhelming evidence that the universe is controlled by real physical laws, not fairytales and folklore.

Friday the 13th: A Silly Superstition

Today is Friday the 13th, and even though I’m the last person in the world to willingly tempt the Fates, it’s my duty to set the record straight.  There is no room for superstitions in our modern society.  Science and technology have banished them from our world and driven them out into the limitless ethereal — where they frolic with dragons, trolls, banshees and goblins for all eternity.   Luck, good or bad, is nothing more than a random set of circumstances.  The gods do not control our lives (frankly, they’re not interested) and haphazard actions do not set the tone for the rest of the day, week or year.  This is fact; let me demonstrate.

If you’re living on a farm near Memphis, Tennessee right now, you’re probably experiencing a run of bad luck.  The Mississippi River has decided your farm needs to be moved to the Gulf of Mexico and there’s not a whole lot you can do about it.  I don’t care how many pennies you found and retrieved, how many rabbit’s feet you have on your key ring or how many times you didn’t walk underneath that ladder, your luck isn’t going to change in the near future.  Conversely, if your name is Mark Zuckerberg, you could hire an army of black cats to cross your path and never worry about it.  You could spill salt, leave your umbrella open in the hall and break the mirror on the Hubble telescope — all in the same day, if you want — and it wouldn’t matter.  You’re likely the luckiest guy on the planet.  Point proven: case closed.

I think all reasonable people can agree that superstitions are absurd, and our lives are not governed by foolish folklore and old wives’ tales.  There are strict physical laws in our universe that can be tested and proven.  These laws were set down by the gods and Mother Nature in a time before time and they (and they alone) dictate the scope and skein of our lives.  All the rest of it is just silly hocus-pocus, left over from a time when primitive humans did not have the extensive knowledge that we have today.  This, too, is fact; let me demonstrate.

You should never hang a new calendar before January 1st.  This angers the gods and they will visit their displeasure upon you for the entire year.  It’s best to leave the new calendar in its original package until after breakfast on the morning of January 1st; then, hang it, when you’re safely into the New Year.  This is prudent behaviour, handed down through the generations, learned and tested many times through the millennia.

Likewise, you should never propose or drink a toast in water.  The gods demand that offerings to them should be made with strong spirits.  Anything less shows disdain for their power.  The gods will not look kindly on your invocation if you don’t treat them properly (quite rightly) and, depending on how pissed off they get, they could actually reverse your plea.  “To your health” could become a very dangerous proposition, indeed. 

Furthermore, never, under any circumstances, step on a spider.  Mother Nature will not tolerate this.  She will make it rain.  And not some wimpy April-showers-bring-May-flowers rain, either; she will literally kick your ass with water.  I’m not saying, and I don’t know who, but take a look at Manitoba and tell me somebody didn’t screw up on the arachnid front.  The current state of the Canadian prairies is tangible evidence that the laws of the universe must be adhered to.

Most importantly, don’t be smug.  The gods particularly hate smug people.  For example, Tiger Woods thought he could get away with it, didn’t he?  The guy hasn’t made a decent putt since Elin hit the wrong button on his cell phone and heard what’s-her-name leaving him bimbo-mail.  Similarly, Mel Gibson hasn’t made a respectable movie since Payback in 1999.  And Donald Trump, the definition of smug, has been saddled with that hairdo since before he was famous.  The list is almost endless.  The toe-sucked ex-duchess of something, Sarah Ferguson, wasn’t invited to the Royal wedding, was she?  So be careful, the gods hate smug so thoroughly that even an idle word can rain havoc down upon you.  The only way to try and reverse a random act of smuggery is to immediately touch wood and call upon the fox, cleverest of the supernatural animals, to help trick the gods.  Maybe, just maybe, it might work, but for safety’s sake it’s best to remain humble.

Finally, the gods love sports and fair play.  Nothing pleases them more than to see athletes and fans brandishing totems or following rituals to beseech their favour.  The gods will reward the faithful and punish the transgressors ruthlessly.  There is no other realm of human endeavour that so clearly shows the delicate and detailed balance of the universe, or the benevolent power of the gods.  The New York Yankees are living proof.  They win because the gods smile upon them — and their fans.  I, myself, have an old and ratty Yankees’ t-shirt which I wear during the playoffs to honour the Baseball gods.  This is not some childish “lucky charm” but a strong talisman that insures continued success.  On the other hand, the gods hate the Red Sox.  This is a known fact.  They also hate the Dallas Cowboys, the Detroit Pistons and Kobe Bryant.  However, they reserve their special, nasty junkyard-dog-hate for the Toronto Maple Leafs who they have cursed, for all eternity, for being smug.  These are all facts.

So let’s forget about all these ridiculous superstitions – black cats and broken mirrors?  As we have seen there is overwhelming evidence that the universe is controlled by real physical laws, not fairytales and folklore.  And the gods do not interfere in our lives unless you make them angry.  With that in mind and a reasonable amount of caution, you should pass a pleasant Friday the 13th and wake up Saturday, happy and unscathed.