Proclivity

Many o' thing will pop into my head throughout the common workday.  In order to keep myself alert, I often will sing quietly to myself, or as in the case this morning, hum a (somewhat) familiar ditty.  This morning it was something from The Doors, although I'm not familiar with what it was exactly, nor do I know for certain that it was a song actually performed by The Doors.  I'm not a fan, nor have I ever been a fan of, Jim Morrison.  I don't know why, but I suspect it has something to do with Oliver Stone's biopic, The Doors (1991).

This practice has been a common habit, or proclivity, for quite a long while.  Almost since my first day on the job more than a year and a half ago.  I've often joked that the radio in my forklift is broken and there's only one song that repeats in the disk drive.  My forklift doesn't have a radio, nor do most of the rubes I work with, have the mental fortitude to comprehend even the most basic of humour.  Sometimes I feel so alone at work.

In addition to humming and hawing over a wide menagerie of musical entities in my wheelhouse, my mind also has a tendency to question that which I see around me.  Like for instance, despite the temperature maintaining itself at a painful subzero level for most of the day, why the f*ck was it snowing from about three o'clock on?  The environmental weather is all topsy-turvy today.  Completely illogical.  Another avenue that my mind ventured down today, actually involved the word proclivity.  Although, I will admit, at the time I wasn't a hundred percent certain on exactly what the definition of the word was, but imagine my delight when discovering that it's meaning actually corresponds nicely with this subject matter.  However, here is where my mental skew takes it's ugly turn, as it often does when I'm concerned.  On the other hand..., what the hell?  The English language, for all it's luster and beauty, can be a little intimidating and f*cked up, too, for all intense purposes.

Proclivity [proh-kliv-i-tee] /prōˈklivətē, prə-/. The word is defined as, by www.Dictionary.reference.com as: a natural or habitual inclination and/or tendency; a propensity or predisposition: as a  proclivity to meticulousnes...  In my mind, this inventive word which originated in Latin, actually takes a much more bastardized and sordid meaning, while in my fleeting care.  To me, Proclivity sounds like a communicable disease.  (Example #1) :  "I hooked up with that attractive Asian chick Saturday night, but now, it seems, she's given me a scorching case of Proclivity!!"  Luckily, Proclivity is treatable.

During the final moments of my workday, these absurd thoughts gave me cause to chuckle and smile quietly to myself.  Discovering more creative avenues, I continued on with the harmless charade, knowing full well that I'd be adding this subject to my plethora of previous blog ideas and subject matters.  

In further testing my own creativity, I came up with a second scenario which tests the strength and multiple use of this interesting word.  (Example #2) : "I hooked up with that attractive Asian chick on Saturday night, but I seem to have contracted some sort of a scorching rash!  Luckily, the doctor says I only need a few shots of Proclivity for a speedy recovery."  I wish I could buy stock in the company that produces Proclivity!  

Out With A Bang, In With An OUCH!!

The beginning of 2013 had me fighting a bad case of pneumonia, followed by a few months of worry and concern, with return visits for X rays and CT Scans, following the progress of, what was described to me as a "black mass" on my lung.  That turned out to not be as serious as was initially believed. (Phew!)  Then the last half of December, I found myself sick, again, which I eventually found myself battling an excruciating bout of pneumonia, once again.  That fight took up most (if not all) of my two week shutdown break from work.  Yay!  At least the weather was shitty and cold, so I never had much need (or desire) to leave the comforts of my house.

January 2nd, 2014, was my first day back to work.  While I didn't feel a 100%, I did feel (or so I thought) well enough to return to work.  I knew that there'd be at least a couple of people still gone with extended vacations, but we were down four in actuality.  I managed to muscle through my Thursday, but with a badgering cough that was fueling an exasperating headache.  With every frenzied cough attack, the world would fade through my eyes and the painful pounding would commence.  Thankfully, it being the first day back, my job wasn't too strenuous and was easily manageable, despite the discomfort.

The fight never ceased after the final bell rang and it was home time.  I came home to a snowy driveway, packed with hardened snow that I foolishly took a stab at clearing.  The hard packed snow had accumulated a few days prior, so much so that it blocked my front door, which caused the bottom of the door to bend and tear away, upon my exit on Tuesday.  (Great!  More expense out of pocket.)  The temperature had warmed up significantly, but not enough to avoid heavy breathing.  With my asthma, I find that the cooler temperatures really have an adverse effect on me.  Especially since the discovery of the "black mass" on my lung.  Earlier in the season, with the dropping Mercury, I found my breathing to be difficult and laboured, at best.  This is something that the specialist relayed to me as the norm for the remainder of my days.  (I really gotta win that lottery, so I can retire to Texas or Arizona.  Or maybe New Zealand.  That place looks like it could be kinda cool..., except for all the god damned Orcs.)

Thursday night and Friday morning was disturbing.  It seemed for every thirty minute to hour patch of sleep, I'd be woken up abruptly with a coughing frenzy.  Even in the darkness of my bedroom, with my head pounding hard, my surroundings seemed to fade from my view.  Reluctantly, I contacted my employer in the morning, notifying that I regretfully would not be coming into work.  I hate leaving them in a lurch like that, despite my boss thinking that I do.  I went back to sleep for (thankfully) a very restful hour, before I got up and drove myself to the hospital.  This is something that I really should have addressed over my break, but I had my pal's van while he and his family were on vacay in Florida and I didn't want them to come home to needing to be taxied to my house to pick up their van.  However, I do think that if I'd had addressed my illness in a more timely fashion, my current predicament could've been avoided, possibly.

I was hooked up to a nebulizer, where medication was administered into my lungs.  "Breath deeply." I was instructed by the wee little blonde nurse.  On completion of that, I was ushered to the X ray department to get an X ray done, then ushered back after that.

The beginning of 2013, I fought a terrific case of pneumonia.  The end of 2013 had me fighting the worst bout of pneumonia (or any sickness I've ever experienced, including Swine Flu in 2009), and now, I'm barely ankle deep into 2014, and I'm forced to fight a f*cking lung infection??

I don't subscribe to any sort of religion and you'll never see me crouching at my bedside with hands clenched, praying for this or that, but in case I'm terribly mistaken, if there is a God, he'd better bless me with a substantial lottery win pretty f*ckin' soon.  I've paid more than my fair share of dues in this shitty life of mine.  I deserve a god damned break.  This inability to breath, bullshit, is just that.  Bullshit!!

Are You Kidding Me? There Can Only Be One.

In doing some light reading, I've come to learn that before Christianity swept over the land, however many ions ago that was, one of the dominant religions was known as Ásatrú.  Asatru (Icelandic, "Æsir faith") has been highlighted, as of late, in the Marvel Comic theatrical releases of the superhero THOR.  Although the religion itself, whose actual founding date seems to pre-date any known calendar, was all but obliterated from the annuls of time, has been steadily been revived (and returning to popularity) since the 1970s.

Ásatrú is an Old Norse word consisting of Ása, referring to the Norse gods, and trú, which loosely translates to "troth" or "faith". Thus, Ásatrú means "religion of the Æsir."  Synonymously, terms for Asatru include Germanic Neopaganism, Germanic Heathenism, Odinism, or Heathenry.  The original, ancient form of Norse religion is usually referred to as Germanic paganism, or Norse mythology.

Those who choose to follow this religion, do so by following the teachings of (1) Odin (Germanic Woden), who is the god of magic, poetry, riches and the dead; ruler of Valhalla (Wednesday is a derivative of his name, although I wonder how he'd feel knowing that this is also known as Hump Day?);  (2) Thor, who is the sky god who wields a big hammer, able to control the weather, and enforces the law and the community (Thursday is derived from his name, and rightfully so.  If the movies are any indication, he kicks ass, just as Thursday, my wrestling day [TNA Impact - SpikeTV]).  There's also (3) Freyr, who is the fertility god, also represented with a phallic statue and seen as the founder of the Swedish royal dynasty.  (Yeah, I kinda doubt it too...); and (4) Freyja (sister to Freyr and also Odin's hot wife), fertility goddess of love and beauty and sister to Freyr, known by many names (including Frigg) and patron of families, her name is a derivative of Friday)... (TGIF).

So what is my point to all this?  I don't know.  I kind of found it fascinating.  Fascinating in the sense that although it'd replaced by bible-thumping Christianity freaks in the first have of the millennia (1st Century AD, the 4th Century AD & the 7th Century AD), that the religion been steadily making a comeback.  Ásatrú, the modern attempt to revive the old Norse faith, was founded by the Icelandic farmer Sveinbjörn Beinteinsson (1924–1993). Beinteinsson was a sheep farmer and a priest in the religion, who published a book of rímur (Icelandic rhymed epic poetry) in 1945. In 1972 he petitioned the Icelandic government to recognize the "Icelandic fellowship of Æsir faith" as a recognized religious body and it was done so in 1973.   Denmark and Norway have since followed.

There are other deities related to the faith, of course.  There's Njord, who is the father of Freyr and Freyja,  who is the god of ships, seas and lakes; Tyr (Germanic Tiu), also a derivative of Tuesday, (or as I like to call it, Cheap Night at the Movies) - god of battle, sacrifice and justice;  Ullr, the god of death, winter, and hunting.  (It's also nice to have a name to attach to the blame for all this shitty-ass cold weather we've been experiencing...); and last, but not least, Loki, who is referred to as "the trickster", but as the movie has shown us, he's also the guy with the really bad taste in head wear.  (Hee hee hee, the best part of that Avengers movie..: "Hulk Smash Loki", hilarious!  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2fVdNBGTTo).

So is this a viable religion?  To me, it seems to mirror that of the Gods of the Greek Mythology.  One God to overlook one or two things, be it the sea and lakes, or fertility among mankind, or a God for poetry and magic.  Whatever.  If Christianity has taught me anything, it's that they're lazy as f*ck, conjoining everything into one lump sum, and having one God oversee it all.  Ya wonder why your prayers go unanswered?  Because your God doesn't know how to delegate.  He's got too much shit on his plate already, therefore your desire for a new bike or for your sports team to win,  just isn't a priority.  And why are you bothering him with a request for a new bike, ya dumb shit?  As for sports teams, everyone knows that God is a Saskatchewan Roughrider (CFL).  

Is it silly to follow Odin, Thor and alike?  Sure it is!  But no more silly than following Christianity.  I know it's likely that I may catch a little fall out for making that comment, but do I really give two shits about what people who pray to an invisible man who lives in the clouds, think?  I mean, a Virgin Birth?  If anyone tried to pass that shit off, nowadays, they'd be committed to the first available rubber room, complete with a canvass jacket that ties up in the back.

However, given how the ladies all swoon and croon over that bloke, Chris Hemsworth, I think the argument for praising the Norse Gods, really is gaining popularity.  I don't see, myself.  If anyone should be crooned and swooned upon, it should be Kat Dennings.  Now there is a true Goddess.  Meeyow.