From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
In Greek mythology, Cassandra (Κασσάνδρα, also Κασάνδρα, Κεσάνδρα, Κατάνδρα, also known as Alexandra) was the daughter of King Priam and Queen Hecuba of Troy. Her beauty caused Apollo to grant her the gift of prophecy. However, when she did not return his love, Apollo placed a curse on her so that no one would ever believe her predictions. She is a figure both of the epic tradition and of tragedy where her combination of deep understanding and powerlessness exemplify the ironic condition of mankind.
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I am neither the daughter of a king nor of a queen (although I had an uncle who was a little bit queenly). I am not Greek (although I love souvlaki). I am not beautiful (although the people who love me think I am, especially when I wear my hair a certain way).
But I do have the gift of prophecy. (And such a gift it is I have decided to give the pronouncement its own paragraph and parenthetical aside.)
While some people perpetually pretend they don’t believe (in) my predictions, I get into enough trouble with these people because, actually, they know darn well that I indeed know darn well.
And yes, I do possess deep understanding and am old enough to say so without it seeming like bragging. (Fools!)
I confess, too, that sometimes I test things out just to be absolutely certain that I know that what I know is true.
Some of you might ask – why would anyone take that risk? to which I would reply – it isn’t a risk at all. It is always – always – better to know what side of your side someone is on (the wrong side and the right side being the only two choices). Also, being well fortified by friends and family helps.
[Mind you, by the time I am obliged to test the theory (at which I have become masterful), I have already had plenty of proof as well as experience.]
How does one acquire the gift of prophecy (you might ask)?
Well, I can tell you. There is a recipe:
Age + trauma (= hypervigilance) + plenty of smart people in your corner, which is better known in psychological circles as (why are you all getting dizzy?) A+T(=H)+PSP=GOP
You cannot have the gift of prophecy without any of these three ingredients, I am sorry to say (especially to those of you who are 3/4s of the way there) (life is cruel).
What does the gift of prophecy allow a person to see (you might also ask)?
Well, without delineating endlessly, I will give you a partial list of the sorts of things I/we can see:
- Gay people who are pretending to be straight (although I have an edge there)
- Bisexuals who are pretending to be straight (I have a bigger edge here)
- Selfish people who pretend to be giving
- People who are engaged (ironic word, that) in shenanigans
- People who are inherently cruel
- Dupers and fiddle dee dee’ers [Hint: there is typically a fairly constant physical manifestation: eye widening, speech affectation, shoulder shrugging and so on]
- Prurience
- People who scapegoat others, and why they do so
- Insincerity
- Liars (physical ones included)
- Thieves (emotional, psychological, moral, financial)
- Jealousy, which is often astonishingly well-hidden
- False flattery
- Users; the mercenary
- Magnanimity
- Straight people who are pretending to be gay/bisexual
- Loyalty
- People who could never be cruel
- Honesty
- People who could never be inauthentic
- Earnestness
- Wisdom
- Courage
- Fearlessness
- Humility
- Compassion
I could hammer this list (home) with the power of a Papal bull, which now reminds me of the Minotaur, which takes me right back to Greece and, indirectly, to Cassandra.
What I often don’t count on, however, is that bad people are sometimes justified in their dislike of others. I have too much Pollyanna in me [is that a mixed metaphor?] to keep that in my head, although eventually it all, like dust in a westerly wind, comes rolling back.
What I also often don’t count on is that good people always – always – always – come forward, in all shapes and guises, tattered and torn, heeled and hemmed, hobbling and striding and (in the case of the more athletic) running to the rescue. En garde!
In the meantime, back here in prophecy land, I am stuck...part Cassandra, part Jennifer...a little bit gay, a little bit straight, a little bit bisexual, a little bit jealous, a little bit prurient (come on! Cape Breton genes, people!), a little bit selfish, a little bit proud, a little bit afraid, occasionally unwise...but a lot loyal, direct but not cruel, stupidly earnest, never a thief or a user, and always authentic.
Like Cassandra, I believe I am deeply perceptive and generally powerless. And like Cassandra, I sometimes feel cursed. But unlike Cassandra, I live in the age of computers and, while it is true that no one might ever (ever ever) listen to me or believe me, I have a blog...oh yes I do...where I can announce to the world my ironic condition among mankind.
And if that doesn’t sit well with any of you, you can just call me Sandy and leave it at that.
