Happy Groundhog Day

Groundhog Day is my favorite day of the year. Regardless of what the rodent predicts, we’re halfway through winter. T.S. Eliot said that April is the cruellest month, and that makes perfect sense to me. The tragic puzzle of ripeness is that it is followed so quickly by rot. To me, the saddest day of the year is Memorial Day, because thereafter you are using up the summer days at the inexorable rate of one every 24 hours, and to the extent that you don’t fill each one with laughing happiness and carefree leafgreen remembrance, you are squandering wealth. In short, the goody clock is running. Barren February, by contrast, presents challenge instead of wealth. If you happen upon goody, it’s like stumbling across an oasis in the desert, oil on the North Slope. Three cheers! Look at you!

So here is homely Groundhog Day squatting in the middle of the winter. It is too silly to be taken seriously even by the marketing wizards at Hallmark. It persists only because it mocks itself so affably. But from an archaeological point of view, if you knock down the modern convenience store called Groundhog Day, you find some solid foundations. The season is turning. The light is returning. The quickening is underway and the long march toward ripeness has begun. There’s goody enough in that.

I love the summer, but I trust the winter.

An Alchemist Abroad: Paracelsus in Japan

Welcome to the Twenty-First Century Star Chamber, guaranteed to bring you a wholly satisfying, up-to-date, and quintessentially twenty-first century web-browsing experience. You’ll find no unsightly 1900s-vintage bugginess here: our Y2K Crisis Management Team has performed beautifully and has conducted the site safely across the millennial divide.

This week we present for your sophisticated twenty-first century reading pleasure a very brief poem by twentieth-century poet Joanne Kyger and some excerpts from a twentieth-century expedition to Japan undertaken by our own Paracelsus.


SUDDENLY! by Joanne Kyger

SUDDENLY!
The same Moon in the next century!

Continue reading “An Alchemist Abroad: Paracelsus in Japan”

RAQ: The Star Chamber Rarely-Asked-Questions List

We hope this compendium of infrequently posed queries, painstakingly gathered across many years of operation, will clear up some of the mystery surrounding the Star Chamber.

Don’t see your favorite rarely asked question here? Send a note to the RAQ Master at raq@starchamber.com and we’ll add it to the list.

Q: Are you Star Chamber guys really all the same person, only with a bizarre split personality disorder?

A: No.

Q: Who were the Hittites?

A: Now that’s a rarely asked question. During the second millennium B.C. the Indo-European people known as the Hittites ruled over the “Land of Hatti,” in central and eastern Anatolia (the peninsula which is modern Turkey). They had displaced the previous occupants, the non-Indo-European Hattians, and ruled from the city of Hattusas near the modern Boghazkoy in northern central Turkey, possibly as early as 1900 B.C.

Q: Do you live in a big wacky house like the Partridge Family?

A: No. But the Star Chamber corporate headquarters comprises a large campus, and depending on your taste, you may consider some of the Frank Gehry buildings to be, as you say, “wacky.” Also, much like the Partridge Family, we have madcap misadventures every week. But the answer to your question is no.

Q: Is your site loosely based on the 1983 movie “The Star Chamber” starring Michael Douglas and Hal Holbrook?

A: Surprisingly, yes.

Q: Really?

A: No. Not really. I just wanted to see your reaction.

Q: Do you live in a big wacky house like the Partridge Family?

A: If you ask me that one more time, it won’t be a rarely-asked question anymore and I’ll be forced to strike it from the list. Think of the others and please be more considerate with your questions.

Q: Are these questions submitted by real people, or are you just making them up?

A: What do you think? You’re the one asking the question.

Q: I see. So they’re completely made up.

A: That’s not a question.

Q: Why are you called The Star Chamber anyway?

A: I’m afraid that particular question is frequently asked. You’ll need to refer to our FAQ, which sadly has not yet been written.

Q: Do you live in a big wacky house like the Hittites?

A: Ha ha. Okay, that’s enough questions.

Claim that cheesecake

Those of you who read this space regularly you will recall a discussion of
cheesecake, loneliness, and the internet from earlier this month. The premise went like this: the internet is lonely. Does anybody out there really connect? (Note: I know the answer is yes, but I was exaggerating for effect.) To show that people really can connect with one another, send me a postcard and I’ll send you a free cheesecake. As of this writing, the cake is still unclaimed. Now how’s that for irony, eh?

Actually, as a result of reading that piece, one loyal Star Chamber reader was inspired to order flowers for his wife. Now if that’s not reaching out and touching, I don’t know what is.

By the way, it’s not too late to get yourself a free cheesecake.

Another part of the Star Chamber community has been active. We are delighted to report that as a result of our listing his artwork on this site, West Coast artist John Lynch has sold two of the original paintings first displayed on this site in September.

In an effort to provide more information about the Star Chamber site and its cast of characters, we have assembled a short but we hope useful list of Rarely-Asked-Questions.

Seize the Day

On the Road with Wally: Part 76
by Wally

You just never know what life’s gonna throw atcha…

I had been planning on going to the Klamath Falls rally for a while, and when my buddy Brian called and said he was going to be headed to LA that weekend, and would I like to go, the coincidence was undeniable. These rallies are basically just an excuse to ride to a specific destination to be able to stand around and chew the fat with other BMW motorcycle owners, drink some beer, and camp in an exotic location – like the infield of the Oregon Institute of Technology track.

So we took off on Friday evening, and made it over the Cascades and into Sisters, pitched our tents in the city park, and slept fitfully ‘till morning. We breakfasted in Bend, and made it into Klamath Falls by mid-morning. I pitched my tent, we looked around a bit, and then as Brian wanted to get back on the road, we motored out of town in a southerly direction. After lunch, we parted ways, and I continued on a big loop around Mt. Shasta, to point back at K Falls, where a BBQ Chicken dinner and the beer tent with all sorts of conversation awaited me. Unfortunately, I chalked up some Bad Karma points when a bird zipped out in front of me, and committed suicide on my right-hand turn signal stem. “Yuck – sorry Mr. Bird,” I muttered, as I slowed enough to allow his carcass to drop off.

I carried on, and after the next gas stop, the 1974 R75/6 was just not running right. I had been trying to keep my eyes and ears on the carburetor adjustment, since I was flitting about between 3000 and 5000 feet, and I’m trying to learn to hear the perfectly Zen spot for engine optimization. But it was just not happy; so I pulled over in Macodel at a Texaco/convenience store, parked it in the shade, and tried playing with it a little more. Left side was fine, but right side wasn’t even firing – I’ve got spark, I’ve got fuel, but it doesn’t want to run on the right hand side. Bah, humbug…perhaps it’s overheated – this is the longest and hardest I’ve ever run this bike…(not to mention the spooky bird incident on this side) so I’ll give it a break, and go get a drink.

As I’m standing in front of the drink cooler, I start to see an aura. Now, I’ve had three migraines in my past, so I recognize this for what it is. This is not a good development, I think, but I know I might be able to power through it with the wonder drug of caffeine. So I start scanning for the iced tea, but the aura has progressed to the point that I can’t even make out the drinks two feet in front of my nose. “That looks like beer, there won’t be tea in there,” I think…and the next thing I know, I’m lying on my back in front of the aforementioned beer cooler, there’s an EMT leaning over me, and I’ve got oxygen in my nose. The ambulance arrives a few minutes later, and before I know it, I’m again on my way to Klamath Falls, but this time in the back of an ambulance.

Grand Mal Seizure is the diagnosis. In the hospital, they give me a CT scan, and start me on a Dilantin drip. Nothing obvious shows up in the scan, but it’s obvious to me that something vigorous happened…by the next day my calves, jaw muscles, shoulders, and thoracic spine are all sore. I’ve since found a sizeable bruise on my left tricep, and a scrape on my right forehead. My memory was also gone for a while; it was tough to remember the answers to simple questions while I was in the ambulance. I end up (literally) across the street from the rally site, and after spending most of Saturday night in the ER, I am released to go crash (not literally) in my tent.

Any family history? Nope. Overheated? Well, it was a warm day, but nothing outrageous. Flashing lights? Not really – I had gotten out of the woods, and into the Klamath Basin by this point. Dehydrated – maybe, but both Brian and I had picked up water earlier in the day, and were making it a point to drink some at every stop. Canned meat? Maybe – I had a Reuben for lunch, which is unusual for me. My brother the doctor says I might never know the cause. But now I’m forbidden to drive for 60 days, I’m on a nightly 300 mg dose of Dilantin, and thankful that I work for Tri-Met, the local bus/light rail transportation agency, because it’s a lot easier to get around.

On the bright side, I took the train back to Portland, and it was a beautiful ride – all hail Amtrak. And I got a good salsa recipe from one of the emergency room doctors. And I’m learning how to be assertive in asking for rides.

I’ve had an EEG, which pointed to focal epilepsy in the frontal left lobe of my brain. I also had an MRI, which showed an anomaly in the right rear lobe of my brain. To the untrained eye, this looked big – I asked the doctor what it might be, and further tests have just added to the mystery. Non-vascular, but non-invasive – a benign tumor, basically. I have three options: wait and do more tests in six months, do a biopsy (which leaves me with a small hole in my skull), or do full on brain surgery and get it out (eeek! this involves me being partially awake). I’m doing the wait and see approach for now.

Do I think I’ll develop the confidence to ride motorcycles again? That’s a big question mark. Speaking of which – the 74 BMW is still down in California, at the local fire station. I’m planning on having a friend drive us down there this weekend, with the trailer that I just bought two weeks ago(!), in order to pick it up and bring it back. Then what happens? Who knows…

It just goes to show you that you never know what kind of curve balls life is going to throw at you. I am a lucky man – if I hadn’t been stopped, fiddling with the carburetors, I’d probably be dead. I’m really going to make it a point to appreciate life more, and be more loving, kind and positive to people.

I originally wrote this up in order to share with friends, just to be more efficient in my emails. Paracelsus convinced me to shoot for a wider audience. If you get anything out of this, go and tell your loved ones how you feel about them. Do just one thing you’ve been putting off for a while. Make it a point to enjoy the sunset tonight. And always remember: carpe diem.

John Lynch, artist

Wally is a close friend from high school. You may remember his elegant description of a Coke can getting flattened in Nevada during the last installment of Travels with Wally back in May.

Wally’s back, and he’s got an even better story this time around. But don’t take my word for it. Read about the carburetor that saved his life.

Also, we’re thrilled to have a Web premiere showing of the paintings of John Lynch, an artist currently working in California.


Finally, Paracelsus has made some changes to his index page that should make it a little easier to find that special back issue you’ve been trying to track down. Collect ’em all! Also featured in this listing are all the authors that Paracelsus has sponsored in this space, including not only the illustrious Wally, but also Anne Onnamus, Gecko,
Ortelius (winner of the cool signature image award), Pandora, and three-time contributor St. Frank.

And now, on with the show.

Why Paracelsus?

We here at the Star Chamber wish you all a pleasant winding down of summer. Sad though it is to admit it, the end is nigh. All you autumn-lovers can gear up and get giddy, but I think I’ll take a nap from September to next April.

Four years after appropriating the name of an obscure sixteenth century physician, Paracelsus has finally decided it’s time to explain why. Perhaps this is because the good doctor gave us alcohol, or at least its current name, and therefore he deserves at least an explanation. Al-kohl used to be the name of black eye paint, but for mysterious reasons he decided to apply the name to spirit of wine instead.

Here’s mud in your eye.
Continue reading “Why Paracelsus?”

Nuts

I don’t know much about computers, but I know opportunity when I smell it.

Too many people have been getting rich on this internet thing, and I can’t wait anymore and let it pass me by. So last week I answered a want ad on MonsterCareers.com, quit my job at the Sporty Shoe, and took the train to Boston. Naturally, Mr. Perkins was upset, since he was losing his best salesman. But sometimes you have to think big and explore your options.

The interview at Soup4U.com! is all set for tomorrow, and I think I’ve already got a place to live lined up. At the EarthyFoods SuperMart in Cambridge I met a nice woman named Eileen who has a room at her house that just opened up, real cheap. I’m really looking forward to eating healthy organic food from EarthyFoods. Not like the junk I used to eat back home in Connecticut.

June 16

Something funny happened this morning. The cabby who drove me to the interview was raving on and on about his rabid right-wing politics (“We need gun control! We need rent control!” He was all about control). Then, as we pulled up to the building, a funny feeling came over me. For some reason I can’t explain, I knew the next thing he was going to say would be true — I knew it with all my heart. It was like the voice of God. Just before I get out of the cab, he looked back and said, “Nice shoes, kid.” “Is that all?” I asked. He said, “If you want to make money, you need nuts.”

The interview went well enough. Naturally I had to be a little inventive about my marketing background, because who would give me a marketing job if they knew I had never had one before. How hard can it be, anyway? I think I sold them when I went on and on about how much I love soup. Every time I wanted to say “shoe” I just substituted “soup.” Simple! Internet startup, here I come!!

June 24

I got the job! I’ve settled into a routine in my new life here in Cambridge. I got the room at Eileen’s house. She lives with her boyfriend Colin, who happens to be from Hartford like me. I don’t think he likes me. He spends all his time trading old jazz records on eFlea.com (the online flea market auction site), but he says his true calling is ear-foot reflexology. It took me a while to figure it out, but it works like this: ear reflexologists understand your whole body by examining one ear. Foot reflexologists do the same thing with your foot. Ear-foot reflexologists can tell how you are by examining the tiny part of your ear that corresponds to your foot. Colin was really annoyed by the time he was done explaining it. When the FedEx guy showed up with a package for him, he jumped up and ran out of the room. Eileen gave an eyes-to-the-ceiling shrug and whispered “Pisces,” like that explained everything.

I headed out to EarthyFoods for some more groceries. Man, the food there is expensive! They don’t even have Froot Loops. I settled for Macrobiotic MegaMuesli and KarmaCow whole free-range milk. Next week I’m going to the BulkyMart. I’m tired of granola and leftover soup.

June 26

Work is going pretty well, except for my boss Mark yells at me a lot. I don’t think he likes me. My marketing job ends up being mostly lots of trips to KopyMat and OfficeWorld, and since I don’t have a car I’m spending a lot of money on cabs. I sent an email to a customer today where I forgot to put the exclamation point on “Soup4U.com!” and Mark lectured me for like an hour about how I personally am wrecking his stock options and how they only hired me because of my shoes, but it was a big mistake. This is the first I heard about the options. I’m not sure if I have any or not. I’m still trying to figure out how they work.

When I got home, Colin was getting another FedEx shipment, and he kind of snorted at me and stomped upstairs. My milk had been removed from the fridge and dumped into my dirty clothes basket. There was a little note taped on the empty carton that said “MILK MAKES MUCUS!!!! THERE CAN BE NO MILK IN THIS HOUSE!!!!”

Eileen took me aside and said she was sorry she hadn’t told me they were strict ovo-lacto intolerant vegetarians. She also told me that even though she works at a copy store part time to pay the bills, what she really wants to do is own a health foods store and practice ayurvedic neuro-linguistic homeopathy. It took me a while to figure it out but she has all these little bottles of what looks like water that she says can change your mood. She gave me one labeled “Quixotic hope.” It tasted like water to me.

July 15

Mark got fired yesterday, because Gary the systems guy figured out that his whole hard-drive was nothing but naked pictures. My new boss, Ed, likes me even less than Mark did, as far as I can tell. I asked him about the options thing, and he screamed “Is money all you can think about at a time like this, Shoe-boy?!” I heard from Gary that he has a lot of options.

When I got home, I tried to make small talk with Colin. He was very grumpy because he was expecting a FedEx shipment. I asked him how the foot-ear thing was going, and he said “Ear-foot! It’s ear-foot reflexology, you milk-drinker!” Pisces, I guess. Anyway, he agreed to look at my ear for a while. It was very calming, and after a minute of probing my ear lobe he made a surprised “hmmmph!” noise, gave me a sharp look and said “Do you have any stock options?”

August 12

Still no options. I don’t think I can get rich if I don’t have options, but I’m not sure. Gary told me that Soup4U.com! almost got bought out by the vertical food portal StuffYourFace.com, but the deal fell through because they got bought by VerticalFoodPortal.com. Now the KopyMat people won’t let me in the door anymore because our company stopped paying the bills. I had to go across town to the KopyKing, but my old boss Mark was working the counter there, so I kept going until I got to KuckooForKopies where Eileen works. Only she wasn’t there.

I found her when I got home. She looked completely distraught, like she had been crying for hours. She had caught Colin with the FedEx guy that afternoon. He swore he was doing a quick reflexology session, but I guess that didn’t explain what they were doing when she found them. I felt bad for her, so I said, “Why don’t you take one of those little drinks of yours so you can cheer up?” She kind of sobbed and said “It’s just water! I just pour water in there and write stuff on the label!” I was thirsty so I drank down one called Karmic Bliss.

August 18

Howard, the CEO, called us all in this morning and told us that Soup4U.com! was folding. He said that SoupySales.com had been first to market, and we never got into the game. I thought he was going to give us our paychecks, since I hadn’t been paid in a month, plus I had a wallet-full of cab receipts, but he just said “Sorry, there’s no money left. That’s it.” After the meeting, I went up to Howard and asked him straight out about the options. He laughed a little and said “There’s no more company… that’s it. Go home!” but I kept after him. After a while he said sure, he’d give me some options if it would make me feel better, and he sat down at his desk and wrote something up for me. I was too shy to ask him to explain to me how it all worked, but at least I got my options. I can figure it out later.

September 20

I decided to go back home. On the cab ride to the train station I had the same cabby as when I first showed up in Boston. I asked him if he remembered me, and he said, “Sure, you’re the kid with the nice shoes who stiffed me last June. Didn’t I tell it to you straight?” Mr. Perkins was sure glad to see me (just in time for the back-to-school rush), plus I was back in Hartford for only a few days when I saw a notice in the business pages: “Nuts2U.com acquires resuscitated Soup4U.com! to make dining megaportal Soup2Nuts.com.” It took me a while to figure it out, but my options are looking better all the time.

On the road with Wally

Part 42: Signs of Soda
by Wally

We were one sunrise away from watching the reddish glow of the evening sun color the rim of the Grand Canyon, and one sunset away from the first light of daybreak over Zabriske Point, in Death Valley. We were smack dab in the middle of Nowhere, Nevada.

Not to say there isn’t much of anything in Nowhere. Au contraire. George had been enlightening me to the wonder of the alluvial plains that exist here in Nevada. With no rain to wash it all away, all the material that sheds from the tops of the mountains here falls to the bottoms. And stays there. It creates a nice, gradual, slope of residue, once seen (and identified), never forgotten. In fact, on the way out of Death Valley the next day, we were basically driving straight up the alluvial slope for 45 minutes, avoiding tarantulas that darted across the road. But that’s another story.

No, here in the middle of Nowhere there was two-lane blacktop, lots of sand, and some scrubby desert vegetation. (and probably Wile E. Coyote, although he was much too wily to be seen. Unlike Wile E. Tarantula — again, another story.) And Sky. Big Sky. Sky that made Montana jealous. Big, dramatic, desert but-it’s-lookin’-like-rain, and not wimpy pacific northwest micro-rain, but slam it down, cats and dogs, southern summer thunderstorm rain.

A Sky that was so dramatic that George pulls over and comments, “Man, will you just look at that Sky.” Which is one of the things that makes George a good travelling companion — he’ll stop and smell the sagebrush. We hop out and stand agog at the beautiful sunlight spreading through the high dark cumulus. Menacing, yet beautiful. Alone, we appreciate.

An unnatural sound clatters through our meditative silence as a lone Coca-Cola can rolls down the highway. We stand even more amazed, because we’re in the middle of nowhere, almost back to nature, soaking up the desert landscape, the gorgeous almost-sunset and are jolted back to reality by a singular token of civilization, intruding on the road-runner-esque landscape. Our heads both swivel comically to the right, as the can, seemingly out of nowhere, rolls down the double yellow line in the middle of the blacktop. It almost feels like we’re in some weird commercial, but lacking the requisite camera crew and pretty graphics.

Then an even more unnatural sound blasts us both from our left as an 18-wheeler thunders unexpectedly around the bend and thrusts itself into our view before our startled inhales are completed. Its mammoth wheels roll over the can, crush it, suck it up and around, crush it again and fling it out behind, a crumpled, flattened token of what was once the perfect shape, the wheel, the cylinder, the rolling reminder of civilization… now just a flat piece of aluminum on a lonely Nevada highway.

As fast as it came, the juggernaut is gone. We both stare dumbly in stunned amazement at the coincidence of us, the can, and the rig. A collective “Whoa” settles among us.

“Let’s roll”, sez George. I couldn’t agree more.

Moving time

Does it bother anybody else out there that after you mess up your room, the next thing you do is clean it up? You see the problem: they both go up. This means the room keeps going up and up forever, as though rising on an endlessly telescoping hydraulic lift. Eventually something has to give way and topple. It’s unnerving.

The signs of millennial collapse are everywhere.

For Paracelsus this year, spring cleaning is giving way to summer moving. As the new owner of a house (he’s upgrading), he has to clean up the old apartment, pack up his belongings, and then set them up in the new place. He’s not sure if he’s up to the challenge. “Cheer up!” you may advise him, but a mild fear of heights has him wondering if things will ever calm down again.

To help us all stay down-to-earth, Wally, a great good friend of Paracelsus from Way Back When, tells us a story this week about rolling down the highway.

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By the way, were you aware that you can now read your favorite Star Chamber pieces on a PalmPilot?

Peanut Press is now selling a compilation entitled

The Star Chamber, Writings from the Web which can be downloaded for convenient reading on a palmtop platform. Check out our exciting
excerpts from the book, and then take home a few copies today!

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