Once in a Blue Moon ...

A Blue Moon is certainly a rarity experienced for New Year's, even more so as technically, Australians didn't get it. Our Blue Moon occurs this month (being January) as the actual rising full moon that has been declared a Blue Moon was seen during the evening of December 31st in most Northern Hemisphere countries. Australia sees this 'same' full moon on January the 1st, so no Blue moon for us. Our Blue moon will be January, and then March of 2010; maybe not so rare after all, going by Gregorian calendar and not some of the more traditional methods of determining these astrological events.

However, I will remain optimistic for the new year. For the first time in many, many years I feel hopeful for the upcoming year and look forward to some change.

I have quite a few writing ideas I would like to get underway, and, of course, I will continue to blog; hopefully a little more regularly than I have been of late.

I promise that my next post will explain the last few poetic ramblings. My prose poem MMIX certainly needs a bit of insight given.

Thanks to all of my followers, and I look forward to blogging with you all in 2010.

MMIX

The comrades of Oceania are dictated to by the Corpus Juris Civilis. Blindly they circumnavigate the world, gently brushing keystrokes; fingertips reading the dots that denote each letter. No further interpretation could be made. All must abide by the unwritten obligations of the Jus Civile, which tracks the errors one can make: Crimethink, Crimespeak, Oldthink, Oldspeak. A series of amateur spies act as a modern day Censura; enabling Big Brother in his pursuit of the reckless, the thoughtless, and the brave.

"Be my friend, comrade," they cajole. Information passes freely; privacy an Oldspeak term diligently made redundant by these regulators of public morality. She knows this, but still pursues the contact; trapped by the unenviable human desire for companionship. There are others, she is sure. Numbed by Victory gin, the web of deceit spins delicately around the limbs of the damned citizen. Paralysed, her soul is dragged to the forum for judgement. Elsewhere, the lions wait.

The stench of betrayal hangs in the air, weaving a path towards the baited meal. Still the lions wait. The comrades mock. The comrades pity. Regimen morum, however, must be upheld. Behind the column of stone lurks the victim's comrade, now promoted to the much revered role of Castigator. An appropriate pathway to Caesar she was sure. The Castigator smiled as she watched her fallen comrade branded with the nota censoria. With that, the damage was done.

How's your Latin?

Corpus Juris Civilis - Body of Civil Law

Jus Civile – Civil Law

Censura – Censor

Regimen morum – Keeping the public morals

Castigator – Chastiser

Nota censorial – Censorial mark