Power and Darkness: or, The Difference Between Sheep and Wolves

"A sheep without its shepherd is lost; a wolf without its pack can survive."

(John J. Coghlin, Out of the Shadows)

It's interesting, isn't it, to see sheep mentioned in the same title with power and darkness.  Other than the term 'black sheep', which usually refers to someone who embarrasses their family by appearing odd or disreputable in some way, we almost never think of sheep as being anything but helpless, stupid, and always in a group, dependent on others to guide them.  I've talked before about being a 'shiny black sheep', and how it's actually a good thing. 

And yet, any group of people who feel angry, frightened or threatened in some way can become a dangerous mob of sheep, turning from prey into inadvertent predators in an extremely short time.  Think of the townspeople in Frankenstein, a stampede to exit a burning building, or a riot in any country.  This can occur whether or not there is a leader; sometimes it's the leader who incites the action, while at other times the leader gets left behind or even killed if s/he tries to calm things down.  A mob of sheep is mindless, running entirely on the instinct of "fight or flight", and the voice of reason frequently goes unheard because no one is capable of listening.

Ironically, the term 'lone wolf' also has negative connotations, since wolves normally live in packs with a definite hierarchy.  A lone wolf is usually someone who is very introverted and/or antisocial, preferring to live and spend most of their time alone instead of with a group.  Most of them are perfectly harmless, and are often very good people.  However, because they act differently from what is expected of wolves, they are often looked upon with suspicion by everyone, sheep and fellow wolves alike.

When you look closely at these two seeming opposites -- the black sheep and the lone wolf -- you find they have many things in common.  Both are mavericks who will not or cannot accept the hierarchy or rules of the group, choosing instead to follow the beat of their own drum.   

In fact, they are almost the same. 

When I read Coghlin's quote (at the very top of this post), it really resonated with me. I've been more or less of a lone wolf for a good portion of my life.  As a child and young adult, I tried being a sheep because that was what I was supposed to be, but the skin just didn't fit me properly, and I probably looked and sounded a lot like a wolf version of the sheep in the cartoon below.  Then I went through a period of trying to be a pack wolf, but but that didn't fit me, either, and it was obvious.  It wasn't until I "found myself" a few years ago (to use an old 1970's saying), that I realized I was a shiny black sheep all along.  And that skin fits me "just right", like the smallest chair, bowl and bed in the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. I am content.  Life is good.

 

So what about the power and the darkness?  The way I see it, the power belongs to those who think for themselves.  That would be the shiny black sheep and the lone wolves.  Pack wolves also have some power, because they choose to work as a team, and although they usually follow the rules of the hierarchy, they will argue with each other if they feel the need to do so.  However, their individual power is less because they usually do follow the hierarchy to avoid being turned out of the pack.

But the darkness truly belongs to the sheep.  Because a LONE sheep really is lost.  Without someone -- anyone -- to follow, a non-black sheep has no idea what to do or where to go, and is in serious danger of being devoured by any predator that comes along.  So the first order of business for a lone sheep is to find a flock.  Whether it's a club, a religion, a gang or a cause doesn't matter; it's having a flock to identify with that's important.  And if that flock ends up taking a header off a cliff some dark night, well, at least they went together.

So whether you identify as a shiny black sheep or a lone wolf, just remember:

 

I think the power is worth it, don't you?

February: "I'm SO Goth..."

I found this on the Elders of Goth FB page, and am sharing it here...  It just seemed SO appropriate for someone with eight cats (3.5 of them black) to post this:





I think this just says it all.  ;-P

(Although I think I'd upgrade that last one to Death Metal...)

Medusa: Eyes of Stone

Here is a poem I wrote back in 2010, when I was studying and working with Medusa as a matron goddess.  I've always seen Her as a guardian and avenger of abused and threatened women.  It goes well as a precursor to my short story, although it won't be published with it.  So you get an exclusive here...  Hope you like it!


Eyes of Stone

You look at me with
Your eyes of stone
But I stare back at you
And still breathe

Don't try to petrify me
With your gaze, honey
It won't work on me
We have the same wounds
The same anger

The same eyes

It probably wasn't your fault
He came after you
Any more than it was mine
But who believes us?
Obviously we asked for it
Or it wouldn't have happened

After all
It's not like they have any self-control
You can't expect them to take
No for an answer

Yeah, I don't believe that
Any more than you do

Got any extra snakes?

Another Story Accepted!

Just a couple of days into my bereavement leave, I got an e-mail from a publication called Monsters and the Monstrous saying they have accepted my short story about Medusa for publication.  woo-HOOO!  This is even cooler (in a way) than the other story being accepted.  This was the FIRST one I had submitted for publication, and it was submitted in JUNE, a few months before the Women in Horror Annual entry was.  I had e-mailed them a couple of months ago asking if they had reached a decision yet and was told they were still "in process", so I figured my story was toast, and moved on.  Imagine my delight to hear from them!

I have NO idea when it will come out, as all the submissions will, of course, have to be edited.  But just knowing that I scored this one as well makes it fine with me, whenever it gets published!

This is the statue of Medusa that gave me the inspiration for my story; I have it sitting on top of my stereo in my 'parlor'.  Awesome, isn't she? 

  

In Memorium: Shirley Lee (Simpson) Myers, 1935-2016

On Tuesday, January 19, 2016, my mom finally got her wish, and passed away peacefully in her sleep, almost two years from the day she had her heart surgery.  But her heart didn't give out on her; instead, she made an informed decision.

It was a long and difficult two years.  Changing roles, where I became the one in charge of a good portion of her life, was probably the hardest thing for us both.  But our personal bonds became stronger and closer than they have ever been, as we became true friends and equals as well as mother and daughter.  She had to let go of so much, but she was able to do so only because she trusted me to take up the reins.  I promised her once while helping her up the stairs of her house that I would never let her fall.  That became a reality, not just physically but emotionally and financially as well.

When she made the decision to give up her rental home and stay at Meadowood permanently, it was because we both knew she could no longer live alone.  When she made the decision to stop going to dialysis in early December, we both knew that it was a final choice. It was really hard watching her get weaker and less coherent, but it was part of the process.  She always knew who I was, though, and she looked forward to my daily calls, even though I occasionally had to remind her who she was talking to.

The last two weeks she was unable to pick up the phone, and also lost the ability to speak, but I still called every day, and if a nurse or aide was with her they would answer and hold the receiver to her ear so I could talk to her.  If no one answered, I mentally held her hand and told her I loved her while the phone was ringing, since they said she always turned her head toward the phone when she heard it.

I will miss her horribly!  But I am SO grateful that she is at peace now and free from a body that was no longer working well and a life she was tired of living because she could no longer do any of the things she loved.  I hope my great-grandparents and my "fairy godfather" were there to greet her and show her around.  I hope that she and her younger brother and sister who died years ago are catching up on each others' 'lives'.  I hope that she and her own parents have made peace with each other.  And I hope that she and my dad have also met up and are friends again. 

                                     "In my End is my Beginning."  (Mary Queen of Scots)

January 2016: "I'm SO Goth..."

Do you, my friends, pass judgment on others?  Maybe you should reconsider...





A great way to start thinking for the New Year, don't you agree??  :-)

Save the Original Monster High Ghouls!!!

I just read this post on Little Corp Goth Girl's blog that made me FURIOUS.  Mattel is "redoing" the Monster High dolls in 2016 to look more like cheerleaders!!  This is gross and wrong, in my not-so-humble opinion.  The appeal of the Monster High characters is that they are themselves, totally unique, NOT cookie cutters of what we are told we should be, and their darkness is celebrated.  The picture of the "new" Draculaura just made me want to gag.

Please check out Sylvie's post, and I hope you'll decide to sign the petition asking Mattel not to discontinue the original dolls.  (The link is in the post.)

Save the ghouls of Monster High!!!