Friday, November 19, 2010

Evil / Creepy (Crawly) Story

(note: I don't mean to offend anyone with the first part of this posting....It is incredibly hard to formulate my philosophy on evil without sounding like some sort of horrible Nazi sympathizer...just know going in that I have no intention of belittling or casually justifying the suffering of any person or any group...thanks)

I'm usually all for denying that there is anything that is truly "evil".

I know, I know...Hitler...Holocaust...Suicide Bombers...Rapists...I get it. And I'm not going to sit here and say that anything like that is good, or acceptable, or even worse, some sort of "group karmic balancing".

I just believe that everything happens for a reason, and on a deep soul level, we choose all of the experiences that we have as individuals and as a society, be they for good or ill. There are victims in this world, but they are victims who on some level have bravely sacrificed themselves for the knowledge of the greater good. The perpetrators of evil aren't heroes, they are simply part of the greater plan of the Universe/God/Infinitebeing to learn lessons about Its(our)self. Some lessons must be repeated, and it often feels that there are many that we as a species will never learn....but we will keep trying to teach ourselves, and hopefully be able to 'get it' eventually and be able to look back and fully honor those who made great and terrible sacrifices.

That said...I had quite a strange "evil" occurence just the other day. As many of you know, I have been working on an honors project for my current history course. In short, the paper is an exploration of cult movements during the late 60s and through the late 70s (beginning with the Process Church, culminating with Jonestown), and why they became so visible - not new - and so negatively oriented. As part of my research, I read Helter Skelter, which is the account of the Manson Family murders, and the ensuing trial. Manson referred to the police force, and arrogant white Americans as "pigs" - it is often mentioned in his philosophy, and the phrase "death to pigs" was written on the wall of the LaBianca residence in blood.

Well. I was driving around town yesterday, listening to the new My Chemical Romance album. One of the tracks, Bulletproof Heart, contains the lyrics "the pigs are after me, after you." I thought hmmm, wow, if Manson had been around today, maybe this cd would have been his White Album. Many of the songs on the album have very clear themes of revolution and uprising (but in a mostly positive, uplifting way, I must stress).

As I thought about the "pigs" lyrics, I happened to glance down at the door armrest where all of the window/lock buttons are. It had been a rainy morning, and as I had driven with my window cracked, some droplets had fallen in and landed on the console. And the 'water stains' that had been left very clearly spelled out the word "PIG". It wasn't ambiguous at all; I wish I'd had the wherewithal to get a quick cell phone pic. But alas.

So....what does this mean? I'd say it was all subconcious self-manipulation, based my recent reading, if it hadn't been so blatant.

If we can create god-form archetypes through generations of energy/prayer focused on a certain form or ideal...can we also create negatively charged fields which are accessible through something as simple as investigating a related topic?

Something to think about.




....and to lighten the mood, something that is the exact opposite of evil.....


Monday, November 15, 2010

The nature of my game

Today was an interesting day. School without school. Studying without studying. Oh, and I joined the Law/Mcguire wedding party to be fitted for a suit...in HELL.




there was also this above the closet that they kept the shoes in....


why yes, that is a boar's head...

 


and now that we've dealt with sheer terror...cute pictures


Darwin

Apollo

Odin (in sepia because otherwise he looks an even hotter mess)

Kylie (I'm not strangling her - it's just the only way to keep her still long enough to get a shot that isn't a *total* blur)





Friday, November 12, 2010

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus

But apparently, in the light of my porch, I look quite a lot like Jesus.

     Spent a lovely evening with some good friends, reading their tarot and sipping multiple pumpkin spice lattes. Sometimes I wonder though, am I reading their cards, or reading my own? I've always been of the opinion that there is nothing at all magical or mystical about the cards; they act as entry points to personal energy fields, and those fields are actually what are being 'read'. But information, impressions, vibes if you will, are always processed and translated through the person who is actively receiving them. The counseling is as much for the reader as they are for the person being read. What the recent readings mean for me, I still don't know.

     It's a very strange process. After a session, I can barely recall what I said; general impressions are there for a short time, and distinct memories only return during a later session with the same person. I'm sure a person of the fundamentalist Christian variety would attribute that to some sort of demonic possession, but I honestly feel that when speaking to others about spiritual topics, I am able to tap into a greater, more 'cosmic' knowledge. There is no desire to have followers, no desire to control anyone's life, merely an overwhelming NEED to assist others in their process of losing fear and claiming what Oprah would call their "authentic selves". Maybe that's what I'm here for - something a bit removed from guidance, and a little closer to support. A distributor of information, not the source of said information.

Or maybe it's just time for more adorable cats.



Yes, that's it. Nevermind.

        

Deep

I'll most likely use this blog for semi-deep, semi-intense thoughts. Therefore, it is only appropriate to begin with....cute cat pictures.