Dangerous Compassions


in car

“The defrosting shrimp are downstairs being guarded by the roving roommate’s cat. The cat is holding a Triton,” Ming told me.

This was a weird conversation that Ming found important, meaningful, or funny enough to email me about.  Like he wanted me to write a blog post about it.  So here we go.

How are you doing, reader?  I’m stressed but learning, making art I like, got my survival strategies going like my dailies, and doing mostly ok.


“The cat is holding a trident?” I asked.  “You said the cat is holding a Triton.  Those are two different words.”

Ming got on his phone, trying to understand the difference between the words.  They sounded similar.

“The cat is holding a Triton by the tail holding a trident,” he informed me.

“Trident or Triton?  What’s Triton?” I asked.  “Isn’t Trident a missile?”

“The missile or Neptune?  The spawn of Poseidon,” Ming said.

“You said spawn,” I said.

“I did indeed,” he said.  “I love you.”


That was some time ago.  Recently we were trained on how to feed said housemate’s cat while her person is away, which is a sacred honor.

Also when I was a kid, there was Trident gum.  I thought it was tasty gum.  However, I think the “dent” part was like dental, about teeth.  It was special gum marketed as ok for people with dental work like fillings or maybe a crown.  Marketed as not too sticky.

Oops, no, I looked it up–Dentyne was the gum marketed for not sticking to dental work.  A red cinnamon gum was my favorite.


These days, I don’t chew gum ever.  I love mythology but had a hard time with Greek mythology because it felt like it belonged to school.  Exploring mythology on my own feels more free.

Being a peace activist, I’m more familiar with weapons, bases, and military crap than I otherwise would be.  Kind of like doctors become psychiatrists because they’re crazy, or their relative is crazy; they aren’t neutral for whatever reason.  So they bring their baggage to the exam room, prescription pad, panic button.

I hate weapons and air force bases, yet I have to go there to oppose them.  It’s uncomfortable, to face what I most fear.

A lot of life is about facing what we fear.  Smells like Ming burned the oatmeal downstairs, or the bubbly part overflowed onto the burner, and oatmeal water is sizzling on the element.

I hope the strong smell doesn’t wake our housemates.  I hope you’re getting what you need today, reader, and feel my love for you through time.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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