Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Solomon Grundy

Some synchs are just too good to pass up.

After I posted my last article on the week, Aferrismoon drew my attention to a post by Michael at Hidden Agendas on a story from the Justice League featuring a character, Solomon Grundy.

I had completely forgotten this malodorous little rhyme, but Michael's descriptions of the character so perfectly fitted with my feelings of the week as a watertight contraption of control that I just can't pass this by without a closer look.

From wiki (yes I know it's suspect)
"Solomon Grundy" is a 19th century children's nursery rhyme, and was presented by James Orchard Halliwell-Phillipps in 1842."

Just in case you missed the double letters in the 'presenters' name I've highlighted them for you. Halliwell apparently means 'lives by the holy spring' (in this case it's by an orchard). Phillipps is a lover of horses (hopefully not in the biblical sense). The name Halliwell was of course made famous by the three Charmed Ones. Our little presenter was auspiciously born on June 21 better known as the Solstice. He is primarily known for his scholarship about the life and works of William Shakespeare.

But here are a few little extra snippets:-
"Finds "A poem of moral duties" now called the "Regius Poem". Written in Middle English about 1390, this turned out to be the oldest known Masonic manuscript."

"Elected to The Royal Society; at eighteen, the youngest Fellow ever."

"Several manuscruipts that disappeared from Trinity College, Cambridge while Halliwell was a student are sold to the British Museum. Halliwell is investigated but is never charged. However, he is excluded from the British Museum library."

So with this little collection of charming fact lets see what the human race was presented with in 1842.

"Solomon Grundy,
Born on a Monday,
Christened on Tuesday,
Married on Wednesday,
Took ill on Thursday,
Grew worse on Friday,
Died on Saturday,
Buried on Sunday.
That was the end of
Solomon Grundy"

I knew this rhyme as a child, probably repeated it often, but never liked it - funny how we repeat things because they roll off the tongue so easliy.

Looking at the rhyme in context with my last article & the points that Michael made I felt a little sickened.

Wiki goes on to say this; " The poem is essentially a riddle in which the life of Solomon Grundy appears to take place in the process of a single week, the answer being that each day's events represent the seven ages of man."
Now I'm just going to come in here & say what a load of bollocks - I did the married thing (& moved on years ago) - according to this I'm on my way out & it's all down hill from here. I personally do not see the apparent last four stages of my or anyone else's life as a rapid decline into illness & the Underworld.
But... as a nifty little bit of programming to the rhyme loving souls of children it does rate a standing ovation in cunning - mind you it's up against a lot of tough opposition for the Oscars in today's programming awards.

Hoping that Michael won't mind, I've appropriated some of his descriptions (& a picture) of the cartoon character Solomon Grundy from the Justice League episode called 'The Terror Beyond'. (emphasis shown is mine)

"Solomon Grundy is portrayed as a "simpleton" only interested in helping if he receives his "gold payment"..."
Does that sound a little familiar - is that not the image we have been given of the average 'person in the street' , in our dog-eat-dog world.

"[Dr] Fate eventually uses a "spell of revelation" on Grundy because Solomon cannot remember how he came to be. It was interesting how they handled Fate's questioning of Solomon, it sounded rather condescending if you imagine Fate representing say "Illuminated ones" and Grundy representing the "ogre like knuckle dragging commoner" they dumbed down...Fate wanted to know Grundy's "origins" how he came to be as he was...Grundy said "he didn't remember, that Grundy has always been Grundy...", Fate responds "I doubt it" and casts the spell..."
Hello again, sound even more familiar. I, for one do not believe in life as it's presented to me, I see no reason why I do not 'remember' where I came from. I see no point in going round ad nauseum in cycles of reincarnation. I do so believe we are dumbed to a point not far above the 'plastic dog turd' analogy that Matthew Delooze uses so eloquently. I also believe there are other's who know oh so much more & don't want to share.

"We find out Solomon used to be Cyrus Gold, a very evil man who had a lust for gold...
that decades later the swamp gave birth to a "walking dead man...soulless and empty...always seeking, never knowing why", this I took as an insult from those "illuminated ones" speaking about us "socially engineered clods" near the bottom rung of the ladder..."
I totally agree with Michael on this comment.

"After the spell, Grundy states he remembers what happened to him and want his soul back rather than have the gold. Fate tells him that the gri gri spell caused him to "lose his soul". So now, we have black magic, spells, and a walking soulless dead man seeking to regain what was taken from him"
This sure rings a bell for me - is that perhaps where we are right now - at least those who seek their own truth & as well as deigning to read the rantings of lunatic bloggers. What's gold to the return of our soul???

"Aquaman, Grundy, and Fate are all atop the platform to perform "the ritual". Aquaman's trident was required by Dr. Fate due to it's magic and origins...Grundy however is the main focus of the energies and is told will have to endure enormous pain".
This reminds me of much New Age stuff I've come across over the years, the idea of undergoing 'rites' in order to prepare for the 'new age'. Really I think we've suffered forever & a day, I've done the Catholic thing & found no answers there in the denial & sacrifice. At present I feel such a strong call away from these choking dogmas & towards merriment. Perhaps that seems ridiculous, we are bombarded daily with such doom & gloom that surely we must dig in & try to endure. I say we have been doing that all our lives. We have been going round & round on a Groundhog wheel of one week & methinks some one's been having a bloody big laugh at our expense. Actually we probably do look bloody stupid - I'm reminded at how my son & I laugh at the cat which has recently 'acquired us' - chasing after a piece of string, which we hold & direct - mind you every so often he looks up to let us know that he's on to our game.

from wiki: "The DC Comics character Solomon Grundy, a large, strong zombie supervillain, was named after this nursery rhyme."

I found this entry of particular interest - "In the anime series Shakugan no Shana, the nursery rhyme is used in the form of an offensive magical spell, aimed at the series main character. I couldn't help wondering if the charmed presenter of this little rhyme foisted a little more on the dregs of society (that would be us) than we might have wished for. The DC Comic character of Solomon arrived 102 years after this rhyme in 1944 .

A 'bad hair day' for the human race?

Here is the full article from Hidden Agendas

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Groundhog Week

It started with a weekend, any weekend, after all they're kind of all alike, are they not? Perhaps you are an exception or perhaps I'm missing something. For now I'll take it that many people have the same problems with weekends as me. I suck at them - and for the longest time I've thought it was just me.

But I've been having a closer look at something that has been hidden in plain sight for a very long time indeed - a provocative little number that takes hold of your senses & dulls them down with just seven swings of the fob watch. Let us take a little look at 'the week'.

1 ~ 2 ~ 3 ~ 4 ~ 5 ~ 6 ~ 7

On it's lonesome, 'a day' has become inconsequential, without it's siblings it's a bit pathetic - but get the Family all together, well that's another matter, you don't mess with them, ever.

So lets meet the Day Family - there's the five kids, Mon, Tues, Wednes, Thurs, Fri, & their parents, Sat & Sun. Now be warned, this family is a tad obsessive-compulsive, they always have to go in the same order, each family member has it's own personality & even it's own ruling planet. They're more than just your neighbours, they live in your house & in your head - indeed they're the 'monkey on your back'.

So first off there's Mon, he's our least favourite, he's callous & rude, charging into your room & pouring a bucket of cold water over your head, so you can get back to the real world & earn your way.

You put up with Tues, because she's not quite as aggressive as her brother & by the time she turns up you've broken the hypnotic effect that her parents have on you.

Now Wednes you could so live without, full of woe. You can't help thinking couldn't his parents have taken 'precautions' just once?' He does so make the week drag out.

Thurs is kind of bipolar, makes you feel good because it's pay day & then crap because it's all gotta go on bills.

You open your door to Friday & invite her in for a cuppa relieved to see her again, but she can 'go on a bit'.

Satur is most welcome, but there's just something about him - he just seems to promise so much more than he delivers.

Then there's his wife Sun, she's kind of laid back, but after a while she starts to get you down & you can see where Thurs gets his bipolar tendencies from because the longer you're with her the more gloomy you get. On top of that she keeps trying to 'get you together' with her son Mon, I mean come on woman, can't you see he's a total jerk, damn it.

If you were about to celebrate, let's say your 42nd birthday, your life would have consisted 2191 weeks. That's quite a few revolutions of the groundhog wheel, BUT where did all your 15,340 days go - can you remember.

Now this family is THE Royal Family. Forget all those inbred aristocrats hanging round in castles, this is the family that rules the world. Yes I know they seem harmless enough, I mean they don't play loud music or try & nick your credit cards & well, they've been around since the day you were born & heck everyone knows them. But I jest not - this family rules your world.

"The amazing thing is that today the 7-day week, which is widely viewed as being Judeo-Christian, even Bible-based, holds sway for civil purposes over the entire world, including countries where Judaism and Christianity are anathema. Chinese, Arabs, Indians, Africans, Japanese, and a hundred others sit down at the U.N. to the tune of a 7-day week, in perfect peace (at least calendrically!). So dear is this succession of 7 days that when the calendar changed from Julian to Gregorian the week was preserved, though not the days of the month: in 1752, in England, Sept. 14 followed Sept. 2 -- but Thursday followed Wednesday, as always. Eleven days disappeared from the calendar -- but not from the week"

"Today the seven-day week is enforced by global business and media schedules, especially television and banking."

This family goes way back, it's family tree can be debated, but not denied. The Bible itself bows to them, granting unto them the master number 22 - "And on the seventh day God ended his work which he had made; and he rested on the seventh day from all his work which he had made." Genesis 2:2

Oh God, don't tell me it's Monday already!

We are not so much living in a world as living within a week - just one week over & over & over again. If you were to time travel back to any time in your life you could still slot yourself in quite nicely because the seven-sided framework around which you are to stretch yourself is already in place, you will know what to do simply by finding out what day it is.

So onwards.

The week has a very distinctive rhythm or heartbeat of it's own - you know it very well, your very being is synchronised with it - it's the 5-2 beat. You work (or are schooled) for 5 days, then you have 2 days off, 5 days on, 2 days off, 5 days on, 2 days off ..... ..... ..... hypnotic isn't it?

I thought I'd have a closer look at that rhythm - so I applied it to my breathing - to get a sort of experiential perspective - of course I knew I was doomed to fail & indeed in very short order I could no longer take in breath to the count of five, my lungs were too full I was forced to exhale mightily.
Hmmm... so what if our 5-2 weekly rhythm has a similar effect upon us, body & soul. Now I'm going to say here that I think this little test was not too far off the mark. Breath is what separates us from the dead, & it is supposedly living that we are doing during our weekly life. Even the word spirit is derived from the verb spirare which means 'breath'. I'm thinking here that breathing is synonymous with living - we take in & give out our experiences constantly. So what happens to us when we overbreathe? Have a quick squiz at these symptoms - so many familiar names that experts tell us are caused by our stressful lives - well duh...

From the 5-2 beat, I got to wondering about the number 52 & if it might not play an important part in our lives. Right away the holding pattern of the 52 'reruns' of the same week, any week, hoves into view & we call that one year.

The oh so trendy Mayan calendar has a complicated system (to me anyway) that creates a 52 year cycle "It consists of two types of calendar systems : a ritual cycle of 260 named days and a vague year cycle of 365 days. Since the least common multiple of 260 and 365 is 18 980, these cycles run concurrently after 18 980 days, or 52 years of 365 days, called a "calendar Round", at the end of which a designated day recurs in the same position in the year."

It's rather interesting then that 52 is the international dialling code for Mexico.

If you add the majuscules & minuscules of the English alphabet (big letters & little letters) together you get 52 - as numerologists give different values for these & as our written language has an enormous (hidden) influence on us I feel this is important.

There are 52 white keys on a piano & notable ivory tinkler Billy Joel brought out an album called 52 Street - celebrating the street of that name in Manhattan, while John Lennon had an apartment in East 52nd St.

52 is the title of a DC Comics limited series that debuted on May 10, 2006. The story is directly followed by the limited series Countdown to Final Crisis. It's been a long time since I read a comic but my fellow bloggers have pointed to much imagery among their pages & certainly a browse through the wiki entry does reveal some interesting storylines -

"A multitude of clocks are all stopped at 12:52 (00:52). Monitors show images of Rosa Parks, Abraham Lincoln, a sailing ship with the flag of the Knights Templar, Elvis Presley, the Boston Tea Party and a dinosaur."

"TIME IS BROKEN" - 52 seconds are missing. In the final week, while witnessing the rebirth of the Multiverse, Booster Gold worries about the "broken time", after being reassured by Rip Hunter that everything is finally the way it was meant to be."

"The number 52 in a circle litters the boards, the circles sometimes overlapping. The symbol of overlapping circles has been used in the past by DC Comics to represent alternate Earths, or alternate Earths fusing"

"World War III? Why? HOW?" — World War III was an important event in 52, as Black Adam (black + Adam (man) = Obama?) battled, and killed, several heroes"

"The old Gods are DEAD, the new Gods want what's left."

"Due to the unpredicted popularity of the series, DC issued several series of comics based on the individual threads of 52 ... 52 Aftermath: The Four Horsemen mini-series ... covering the Four Horsemen's battle with Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman. The other strand of that story from 52 is taken up in Black Adam: The Dark Age... following Teth-Adam's quest to bring Isis back to life"

Black Adam

In 1952, Elizabeth became Queen of England, the B-52 Stratofortress flies for the first time, the Diary of Anne Frank is published, the U.S successfully detonates the first hydrogen bomb ( codenamed "Mike"), the NSA is founded. Twice that year fatal smog descended on London causing the death of thousands

And one for Michael from Hidden Agendas - Werner von Braun publishes his ideas for a manned flight to Mars in The Mars Project.

Tellurium is a chemical element with the atomic number of 52. It is one of the nine rarest metallic elements on earth. Its name comes from the Latin tellus meaning 'earth' & it was discovered in Transylvania in 1782. It was used as a chemical bonder in the making of the outer shell of the first atom bomb. In our modern world it is used in re-writable CDs & the new phase change memory chips. And looky here couldn't resist this from the 52 DC Comics -

"Σ Te versus (Au+Pb)" — ... the atomic number of Tellurium (Te) is 52. The other elements mentioned are Gold Au) and Lead (Pb). Gold and Lead are names of Metal Men, and alchemists attempted to transmute lead into gold. Tellus is a member of the pre-Zero Hour Legion of Super-Heroes"

The 52 I found most interesting in all this, was the humble deck of playing cards & how well they mirrored our 'timing' - 52 cards to match the 52 weeks of the year, 4 suits to match with the seasons & 13 cards per suit - either to match the number of weeks in a season or the thirteen months that any pagan would fit into the span of one year - yes these are generalisations there's a few days to be given or taken - but these are the numbers the majority of us understand & that I feel is most important.

Playing cards seem to have an undecided history, however they've been around for a long time

"In spite of their indeterminable beginnings and their unvarying, centuries old design, the 52-Card deck will never find a place in our concept of mystery or wonders of the world, because no matter what language is spoken or what part of the world you are in, playing cards have become as familiar as the moon to the sky. We take them for granted! And question them not.

But what if there is more to the cards than just mere games of chance? What if their true purpose was to leave nothing to chance? What if their simple and well-preserved design was a language of symbols, passed down through the centuries, preserved as the worlds greatest past time? For those who know how to read the Little Book and its 52 Pages, the mystery is revealed as a map of the stars and a calendar of earth".

The rest of this site is here, if you want to take a peak.

I do think there is a lot more to the familiar deck of playing cards than we've been led to believe. My Grandmother used to read them as another person would read Tarot cards. Certainly there's probably meat aplenty to make a hearty post, but my eye was caught by something else. In the very week that the new Batman movie is released, how could I resist the call of the wild card - the Joker. If internet sources are to be believed the Joker is an American invention & appeared in the later 1800's.

"The Joker seems to have its origins in a special card used in a particular form of Euchre (a card game)... immigrants carried the game to the US ... Americans added to the Euchre deck a card even higher than the designated Bowers (Jacks). It was called the Imperial Bower or the Best Bower. This was the genesis of the Joker.

"...early Jokers show much greater diversity. We find not only the trickster types but also children, stage characters, animals, etc. After the introductions of the Best Bower into Euchre, Americans equipped other card games with an extra card (usually as a wild card). Perhaps this is the stage in which the extra card became known as the Joker—meaning one that changes character or pops up unexpectedly. .. The choice of a jester is logical, not only because of his unpredictable behavior, but because he complements the court cards. In Europe, after all, the royal court really was home to jesters, jugglers and other entertainers"

Joker, jester, fool, buffoon, trickster. I have read that the origins of the jester go back to prehistoric tribal society. Certainly they acquired much popularity in the Middle Ages.

I came across this "The jester was a symbolic twin of the king" - and I wondered, could we say the Joker is the symbolic twin of Batman? Are we being shown two sides of the same coin? Looking at the title 'The Dark Knight' - does 'Dark' stand for the Joker & while the Knight is Batman & could the inclusion of Two Face be a little cryptic hint at what we're being shown. I don't trust this movie, for some reason the death of Heath Ledger brings to my mind the spell cast over Macbeth by the 'weird sisters' - far reaching & full of poison.

Batman (Christian Bale) has lost his symbolic twin. Just days ago we hear that this Knight was arrested for assault - I wondered if we are being shown something - that the Joker has not died, but has arisen within his twin. I am reminded of the loathsome ending of Twin Peaks many years ago, when the delightful Agent Dale Cooper is possessed by 'Bob'. I wonder if these 'trance' themes reiterate the amount of darkness being pumped daily into our souls through the media.

Hollywood is built upon the hidden - we are aware of the ten percent that lies upon a variety of 'Universal Studios', it's the ninety percent 'that lie(s) beneath that we need to see - trickery - the art of the trickster or the Joker.

"Often, the card is a wild, and thereby allowed to represent other existing cards. The term "Joker's Wild" originates from this practice. The Joker can be an extremely beneficial, or an extremely harmful, card.

Heath Ledger was reaching the end of his portrayal of the Joker, when the Jokela School Shooting took place in Finland on 7th November, 2007. He also featured in the movie I'm Not There as "one of six actors trying to define singer, Bob Dylan." Following the joker's trail I find that it is generally agreed that 'the jester who sang for the king & queen, in a coat he borrowed from James Dean' was none other than one Bob Dylan. The song American Pie mentions the jester twice more. He is "on the sidelines in a cast' & again "while the king was looking down, the jester stole his thorny crown". Certainly the Joker has stolen Batman's thunder in the Dark Knight - this wild card is most certainly trumping the Box Offices of the world.

Well I've wandered a long way from where I started & I find that my weekend is closing in. Mon will be polishing his bucket & preparing to fill it with ice cold water.

If we pay attention for a moment we find one of the day family's tricky little secrets. Let's slightly adjust the magical spelling of the word 'week' & see what happens - now we have weak & if we carry that through to it's ending we have weaken(e)d or weekend.

I don't think I'd be too far off the mark to say it takes at least a 'sevennight' to unwind - you go on holiday but you need that time to relax & to find your natural pace. We've been told that we have life so much easier than our predecessors, so we shouldn't complain. There's movies to show us in case we doubt. We have technology, electricity, every comfort - here I must dip back to my previous post & drop in a little wtf... because look around, oh sorry you already have, that's why you visit sites & blogs like this one.

I head back to work tomorrow, to tread the Groundhog wheel again, to rerun the week I did last week & the one before & the one before - but I believe this time I will not be quite so hard on myself. I thought it was me who was doing 'something' wrong - I hadn't thought to look at a setup that is geared to keep me in one very small week. If you can't see the invisible walls how can you find a way to scale them.

I believe the naming of days has created a seven sided see-through box. For as long as I can remember, the day that is looming ahead of me now has been Monday - I know what it looks like & how it will be, I hardly even need turn up, in reality probably only 20% of me has been there most weeks - the oh so dominating presence of Mon does the rest.

The week - the biggest Joker of them all?

Friday, July 25, 2008

The wisdom of wtf

From Julie - a reader & friend in Australia

"More info on ‘The Con’. She visited Mercedes Girls College in Perth to lecture the girls on ‘surviving as a woman in a man’s world, then she went on to Kings Park War Memorial to lay a wreath (with the whole ‘last post’ military salute) for the ANZACS. Hmmmmm

Interesting hey, ANZAC being the pertinent clue perhaps????? First WA and then NZ !!!"

Until Julie emailed me I was unaware of this unsavoury visitor - the first visit to NZ by a US Secretary of State in 10 years & reminiscent of Elton John's mercurial concert in Auckland this year after a break of 10 years.

NZ became persona non grata with the US in the 1980's when it declared itself nuclear free. Mind you these days I question everything especially when it relates to the decisions made by those in 'mind' power.

This unexpected visit reminded me of Ellis Taylor's comments earlier this year regarding the death of Edmund Hillary & there being 'only room at the top for one Hillary'. His state funeral was held in Auckland & his ashes were spread in it's surrounding waters in the Hauraki Gulf. A few months later El-ton John crooned at Vector (Mercury) Arena including of course the song 'Sacrifice'. Which leads on to Julie's other comment about the ANZAC's -I wonder if 'the Con' will lay a wreath here.

I do feel that the energy from the world wars is accessible to those in the know. For three days prior to ANZAC Day this year, actual footage of the Gallipoli 'Sacrifice' (restored by Peter Jackson of Lord of the Rings fame) was projected on to the front of The Auckland Museum - we're talking a bloody big screen. The footage was called 'Heroes of Gallipoli' - remember in the best Greek tradition heroes die young. I had forgotten that the actual name of the museum is The Auckland War Memorial Museum - the whole building is the memorial (I will go into this more in my final article of 'the Sacrifice'.

Matthew Delooze has drawn attention to the use of building as a backdrop for projected images - I can't put my finger on it at the moment - but something is up. Did you know images of the pope were projected onto Sydney Harbour Bridge for World Youth Day - wtf. Actually while I'm on the topic I've noticed the take-off of moving images - they've hit the malls in NZ & in Sydney they've got the bastards in the streets. I have to make a concerted effort to ignore them - the word 'eye-catching' comes to mind - they really get 'in your face'.

This brings us back to 'the Con' who "told enthralled schoolgirls how she loves shopping - and has no presidential ambitions" & she combined this with a lecture on "surviving as a woman in a man’s world" - yet more instructions to the masses as to how to keep the division of the sexes operating at maximum effectiveness. And I'm sorry would anyone really be enthralled by any member of the menagerie that ru(i)ns the U.S?

Well this was really just a a quick wtf post as I'm working on something else at the moment. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by the somnambulance of the media munchers & it seems a bit of a lost cause - but then I get an email to remind me that there's a whole bunch of 'cool & groovy' LIVE people out there. The media is very loud & attention getting - I guess it's really just an attention seeker. I decided to check out some medical info on such a condition & found this which I think is vital for your understanding of the effects of the media

Here is a little heartening piece (peace)

WELLINGTON (Reuters) - A group of New Zealand students has come up with a novel way of protesting against a visit by U.S. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice, offering a cash reward for her "arrest" over U.S. actions in Iraq.
The Auckland University Students' Association has offered NZ$5,000 ($3,700) for any student making a citizen's arrest of Rice during her 36-hour stay that starts later on Friday.
"It's primarily symbolic, but it's a protest against her actions as secretary of state in Iraq and the authorization of the torture of suspected terrorist detainees," said the student body's president, David Do."

Last week, my son & I watched an extremely bad movie about Gallipoli - it was research - called All the Kings Men - personally I would say you'd be better off cleaning out the oven. One part of the story has a young war bride, who has just found out that her husband has been killed, rushing out of the Queens presence (she's a maid) & running all upset down a long road to a cottage where she throws herself on a guy who fancies her, for a quick shag. My son's comment was wtf & I went on to try & explain about grief & people doing strange things - but over the course of the week I've had a rethink - about just how much my ideas have come from TV & movies - would anyone really do that & if they did would it be because the movie industry has told them to. I have a great deal of respect for my son's opinions, he is still reasonably alert - so if he says wtf then I think yes my boy I think you've got a point. He's off to see Batman today, I'd prefer he didn't see it but I honour his choices & as such he listens to my strange ideas. All I've said to him is to trust the wtf feeling. Interestingly he had these feelings throughout the new Futurama movie at the places my friend Michael from Hidden Agendas pointed out.

So I thought I'd finish with that idea - honour your wtf feelings & those of others - there's nowt like a bit of common sense.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

The Truth, the whole truth & nothing but...

Ritual was borrowed from Latin ritualis, a derivative of ritus which means ‘religious or other ceremony or practice’.

Unless you are one of the very few, you are a member of the largest religion in the world.

In the Muslim religion you are required to pray five times a day, in your religion, you pay homage perhaps twice as much, if not more.

Your priests are well dressed, well spoken & dedicated & for your ultimate convenience, your religion comes to you, allowing worship at home, work or even in your car.

Your religion is the true religion, because unlike all those who worship ‘false gods’ – yours can be proved, your religion is based on, nay IS in fact, ‘Truth’.

It encompasses the entire globe, costs only pennies & it’s gospels are constantly monitored to ensure no falsehoods could ever pass the lips of it’s immaculate preachers. It’s missionaries are willing to go anywhere, even risk their lives to update these gospels for you, You, dear believer are truly a valued commodity, sorry disciple, in your religion.

And your reward will be great indeed, when the day of enlightenment comes, when all the worries of the world & the need to think will be wiped away & you will know that you need never question anything ever again, for there will be only the Truth, the whole Truth & nothing but the Truth so help you TVNZ, CNN, BBC, CBS…

Quite some time ago I came upon book which talked me through the elements of ritual & I was stunned to find staring back at me, albeit unintended, the very ingredients of our daily TV & to a lesser extent radio, News.

As I believe it’s only fair that you understand the mechanics of your religion, here is my interpretation of the ingredients that constitute the Church of Truth.

Firstly, it must have a dynamic start & finish.
In order to capture the consciousness of the victim, shit sorry I meant viewer, strong, insistent music & vivid images are required. A strong ending recaptures any wandering attention, reaffirms the power of the message as well as signaling the imminent return of one's consciousness to mundane life.

The ritual must have strong & continuous sensory input throughout.
Graphic visuals, music & strong intoning voices with occasionally witty dialogue for slight relief.

It must be seen as outside the realms of daily life.
Have a look & feel that is different to your day to day activity – it must be seen to be special.

It must also be familiar or predictable.
No matter where you go, even from country to country, you must be able to locate & worship your religion with ease.

A consecrated site is required.
Just as ‘false’ religions have pulpits, the religion of ‘Truth’ has a studio. A sacred site must have boundaries to proclaim it holy, for you these are the edges of your TV screen – graphically separating the holy of holies of the TV studio from your unsanctified living room. It helps also to anchor into your consciousness the divinity of those gods & goddesses who appear thereafter for your nightly viewing pleasure.

Special clothes & objects are required.
Your priests dress in tailored robes of understated design. They have special screens for showing you the gospels of daily horrors or charts & graphs if these are not available.

Your ritual would not be a ritual without special gestures & movements.
Following on from the cavalry like charge of the opening music, comes the ‘oh there you are look’, of the preacher, followed by synchronized nod & clerical “Good Evening. Your preacher will only be visible from the waist up, will maintain eye contact with you throughout no matter what twists & turns the camera my take. They may hold or shuffle some sheets of paper as if to suggest even more knowledge, which they may or may not make known. They will turn their head towards their fellow preachers when it is time for you to transfer your attention to someone else – just as a masseuse never breaks contact with her clients body, so to will your preacher never leave your attention undirected.

Special vocals are essential to the ritual.
You will be intimately familiar with the intonations of your local ‘truth’ preacher. They are specific to this religion & are unmistakable even across vast distances of space or time. You’re religion has trained you all your life to pay very special attention to the rhythms & inflexions of it’s high priests & priestesses. Even should you wish to, you will be unable to ignore this hypnotic clergy unless you leave the room or God forbid, switch off the holy of holies.

Your religion has the ahem ...truth SEWN (NEWS) up.
Like any follower you do not question, for yours is the one true faith, you have it on the very best authority, their own.

I cannot help but equate the modern News service with the ancient Greek oracles. We have wrapped (sewn) up this so called ‘modern’ age in a cloak of science & fact. This cloak has the very latest bright & trendy design, so we do not see that underneath it, lurks the age old methods of control - hypnotic ritual & religious ceremony.

Why do we call them News 'Anchors' - because they anchor hypnotic suggestions. They even chuck in predictions called ‘weather forecasts & still we say it’s OK it's News, it’s science. Isn’t it marvelous.

And that’s it from me & the Delphic Oracle.
Good night.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Howling at the moon

I don't know how you are coping in this world as it gets more claustrophobic & constricted by the day, but I'm gagging.

My greatest solace & soothing at present comes from good friends who are not afraid to speak openly & question.

Within the confines & I do most certainly mean 'confines' of daily life I am floundering. The voice that I switched off many years ago seems to be demanding now to speak, but the society which created the need for that, is not at all receptive. I seem to be biting my tongue a lot, I am angry at work, I am angry at how hard it it is just to get by & I'm furious that I have allowed myself to settle for such a 'little life' - if I were a wolf right now, I'd be howling long & hard at the moon.

I am in the process of reading a book called the Birth of Pleasure by Carol Gilligan. It is an exquisitely elegant & heart-filled book that I recommend to all whose souls are crying out. It deals with the loss of our voices & our deep fears that pleasure always leads to pain & many other wonderful, wonderful things that need to be said & heard.

I was reading a little at lunchtime at work today, it's too rich to read too much at once, when I came across this quote from Luce Iriagary, a French feminist :-

"What I wanted from you, Mother, was this,
That in giving me life
You too remained alive."

The reason I include this was that it resonated deeply. When I have looked back on my none to brilliant childhood & thought' if there was one thing I could change about that time, what would it be? The answer has been that I would have wanted my mother to be alive - now she was vertical & breathing, but that's not what I call alive - I imagined a mother who had vitality, energy & a life of her own, because that would have meant that I could have had one too. I didn't need magical powers or money or toys or whatever. As long as I was unrestricted I had no doubt that I could make my life whatever I wished. And that's the thing, we don't need all the gimmicks & the time saving devices & the entertainment if we are unrestricted.

Unrestricted, we would have the all the monumental creativity, ingenuity, humour & friendship to 'MacGuyver' any situation & have a bloody good time to boot.

That's it I just needed to howl out some frustration. Feel free to join in.

Friday, July 11, 2008

...and what do you mean by that?

A good friend picked me up & chucked me over his shoulder into a ditch tonight, via email.

He has been helping with my inquiries into the Great Divide of man & woman. Previously he pointed out to me the female habit of reading things into conversations & assured me that what he says is what he means. I have done my best to accept & incorporate this strange notion into our chats. But...tonight I find that I have slipped up again. What really gets me is that I couldn't see it until it was pointed out to me. It brought into sharp focus the huge difference in the very fabric of male & female conversation.

Our whole society revolves around the words we speak to each other - at no time in recorded history has the spoken word been so relied on - the 'communications' business takes the very words from our mouths & transmits them anywhere in the world.

So what happens when two different languages are spoken, using the same words?

I am a woman - I speak the woman's language - the most modern analogy I can think of is to say I have a decoder, when someone speaks to me I decode it. What that means for me is that when you say something I will check for all kinds of hidden messages, tone of voice, the way you phrase things, to find out what you really mean - women do this automatically, we can read each other at 500 paces. Men are just downright contrary because they do not NOT say what they mean. What would have happened if the British had put un-coded messages into the enigma machine - it would probably have blown a gasket. I really don't think women are born with decoders, I think it's part of the subtle training of childhood. I have an idea that women throughout the centuries of patriarchy have developed a type of underground communication system, using the same words as their menfolk but in quite a different way. A language that allowed women to understand each other but confusing enough to the opposite sex to allow some freedom of speech. Now this is just an idea, I am very open to alternatives or additional suggestions, the idea is to open some healing & understanding between the sexes.

Perhaps here is the ultimate Babel - when man & woman started talking in different tongues.

In one way it's very funny, but it's also tragic when we do not understand each other.

There is a great scene from the movie Sliding Doors which beautifully illustrates this divided communication. The cheating boyfriend is confronted & confused by his mistress - it goes like this;

Man: 'But you didn't say that's what you wanted."

Woman: "Jerry, I'm a woman, we don't say what we want, but we reserve the right to be pissed off if we don't get it. That's what makes us so fascinating & not a little bit scary."

& that movie was written by a man.

I hadn't planned on starting this topic with language, but it popped up & bit me in the ass so I took note. I shall present ideas as they come to mind in the hope of clearing away some of the sludge that has accumulated over the centuries. I can't help feeling that a healthy respect & partnership between the sexes would create something akin to a healthy & functioning immune system for this world - an immune system capable of dealing with any diseased agenda.


Just a quickie, which I'm assured can be most pleasurable, re my last post on pleasure.

I've kept my eyes open today for further hints & clues as to how to understand & use this guiding light. One thing today really stood out - that pleasure & time DO NOT MIX. Like matter & anti-matter, both cannot exist in the same space together - it's one or the other.

A while ago I read a book called 'The Metaphors We Live By'. There were some excellent insights as to how our perceptions & understanding are altered by metaphors - one of which is that 'Time is Money'. Funny really because are not both those 'inventions' the controlling force behind our savagely civilised world. I'm half inclined to view this as the 11th Commandment, so neatly packaged by the cunning use of the English language & so splendidly marketed via civilised society.

I was going to give you a few examples but really you'll be much better off to go to the site below & just scroll down to THE SYSTEMATICITTY OF METAPHORICAL CONCEPTS - don't be alarmed I don't know what it means either - just start a couple of paragraphs down from that & everything will be alright.

Well that's it really for now just wanted to pass on that idea - if something is a pleasure it cannot be timed, it takes as long as it takes. Time has grown to monstrous proportions while real pleasure has dwindled to a trickle of it's former self. I'm reminded of that wonderful phrase "the heart wants what the heart wants."

Time is the intruder here.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

A pleasure to see you

The trail I'm walking through this blog (& uhhmmm that's not me pictured above) has taken some twists & turns that have surprised me & I never really know where a path & I will intersect.

Resurfacing from my article on war memorials I felt a strong tug to look at the great divide in humanity known as man & woman. And it's a bloody tall order I can tell you, but the things we're so used to, that we shrug our shoulders, roll our eyes & continue on as always, may be the very areas where we can claim, reclaim, create or recreate what we most need now - so we have to be willing to lift up rocks & see whats hidden there.

Recently the Celtic Rebel dared to lift up the very slippery rock that housed the world of condoms & bravo to him for boldly going where no blogger has gone before (that I know of)

However before tackling the 'alien vs predator' themes of the great sexual divide, a slight detour is in order - actually it's got one hand behind my back & is insisting upon an introduction - so without further ado, Ladies & Gentlemen I would like to introduce the topic of pleasure.
I'm still working on why this topic has roared it's way into my life, but it's got the same gut pull as all the other topics that I have followed since the birth of 'too long in this place'.
Oh well, it's a dirty job but someone's got to do it.

Now I'm presuming the word pleasure evokes thoughts of a more sexual nature to the boys & possibly a shopping theme to the girls - just kidding (well almost). I'm in the process of reading a tremendous book called the Birth of Pleasure who's ideas connect with & indeed supersede, many of my own re the 'man vs woman wound' (thanks Michael for the name).
I am coming to the conclusion that many of our woes stem from our lost connection to the guiding principle that is pleasure. I feel it is key to a life we vaguely remember or a hint of something that in our stuporific & mechanistic state we can't quite grasp. Pleasure of course is not a thing, an object, rather it's a response, a birthing that comes with the unabashed connection to something that in this moment calls as much to us as we to it.

I am no longer drawn to the idea of oneness, I have found a different track called connection or some such name, where I & something I love at a particular moment or moments can intermingle with each other & I know, feel some marvelous energy is created. Now I come from a catholic background & though it is many years since I put down my cross, it's self-denying tentacles can be hard to shake off, so my journey to pleasure is taking small steps - it started with becoming very tired of the soul-brutality of the workplace & granting myself the pleasure of a cappuccino every day, on my way to work. OK very small steps, but for me it has steadily brought an awakening of more pleasurable things I would like in my life.

This world abounds in messages of abstinence of the soul & plugs incessantly those areas that feed the out-of-control monster cunningly disguised as society. Individual pleasure & I think that's all there is really - you connecting with something, someone whole-heartedly, openly, whoopingly, is incompatible with the structure & forward thrust of society. Pleasure is too random, unpredictable and rambling, often involves little or no money & satisfies in ways that pornography or shopping never will. It rewires the heart & gut connection, a very dangerous thing indeed.

As sure as the emperor was not wearing clothes, we are not experiencing pleasure - we are experiencing the illusion of pleasure. This illusion is brilliantly marketed to each sex, really they've done a top notch job. Meanwhile both sexes are misunderstood, baited & played off against the other, one hand reaches out to embrace & while the other holds a mallet or maybe a frying pan. If we don't see the trap how can we disable it? Many years ago when I was growing up our dog got her paw caught in a rabbit trap, my mother not knowing how to open it, pulled it apart with her bare hands. She saw the trap & did what she had to do to release our dog. We need to see, really see that there is indeed a trap & use any means necessary to break it open. As long as the other sex is in the wrong, is an alien or a predator we will deny ourselves & each other the greatest pleasure of friendship & connection, as well as aiding & abetting the bastards who have too long marketed this illusion.

Monday, July 7, 2008

knickers re-visited

I was at my martial arts class earlier this evening & there was a bit of chit chat before we got underway.

Into this chit chat the trigger word 'cancer' reared it's all to hypnotic head - it seems that yet another member of the human race has succumbed. The news was received in the hushed reverence that I have come to despise & the word 'chemo' set off the understanding nods that now greet it wherever it's toxic little name is mentioned. In keeping with my original post on this topic I silently murmured my own incantation of 'knickers' in the hope that some of the poison might be diluted.

This is the second time in a couple of days I've heard of someone being placed on this particular 'death row' & I'm concerned at the level of acceptance & head nodding that greets it's uninvited & unwelcome presence.

If I hadn't already written an article on this topic I would be doing so now - but seeing as it is already a fait accompli & because I felt a strong urge to re-present it - I'm posting it here.
One point I forgot to mention when I wrote that article was that I checked out the library to see how many books there were for & against cancer - the day I was there, there were 33 books about living with & accepting cancer & 1 lone volume daring to question it - I don't like those odds so I hope you'll join me in saying 'knickers' to cancer.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

With a sting in it's tail

Over the last couple of months I've noticed a strange little phenomena - from time to time when I'm reading, the letters in words seem to rearrange themselves & suddenly I'm confronted with something quite different.

Two words in particular have stayed with me.

One day the word empire became vampire - I paid attention because it seemed to convey a truth - think of the British Empire - a monster that sucked the wealth & resources out of many a foreign land.

The other word that struck me, though in a slightly different fashion, was the word money - that devastating little word that runs backwards, forwards, sidewards & everywhichwaywards through our lives. The little word that seems to hold more power than almost any other.

Somehow when I looked I saw the word venom - 'money' reversed - no, no silly, it ends in a y not a v you cry, observing my embarrassing mistake, but no I saw venom. The letter Y with the sting in it's tail removed is a V - and in this case it doesn't matter that the sting was removed because the poison is contained in the word itself.

So lets have a look at venom:

"c.1220, from Anglo-Fr. and O.Fr. venim, from V.L. *venimen, from L. venenum "poison, drug, potion," perhaps ultimately connected to venus "erotic love" (see Venus), in which case the original meaning might have been "love potion." The meaning "bitter, virulent feeling or language" is first recorded c.1300"

I'm sure you're not so different from me when it comes to money - especially if you're on the trail to wholeness - probably not particularly interested because somewhere in that whole caboodle something is missing - the satisfaction of exchange that comes with sharing items or services similarly valued. The swapping of goods for coloured paper or coins or bits of plastic is lacking in all sensuality & I've got to a point where sensuality is becoming very important - for me that means the essence of what it is to be a human being as opposed to a machine - all the things that make us different from machines - that's our sensuality - laughter, kindness, chatting, touch, imagination, friendship are just a few.

Somewhere along the way one or many spells have been cast. When I saw the etymology of the word venom, I felt that I was looking at one of them.

The power of words. So how often do you wish for more venom, & how much would it take to make you really happy?

A love potion & a drug - what do you think? It's funny in a way to think that this drug, whose caress we must endure, even if we loathe it, is what we slave away for week after week so that we can hand it over to others to feed their habit. You can't even buy the recognised forms of drugs either, prescribed or obtained without this seductive & conscienceless philtre.

Is this why people who have so much are often so toxic? The drug of choice of the elite.

I end with a little synch. I'd decided on the title for this post early on today, then I thought I'd use a picture of a scorpion - not liking what I found, I typed in Scorpio & found the image at the top. What I also found was the astrological symbol for Scorpio - the letter M as in money & it really did have a sting in it's tale (no offence meant here to any Scorpio's & I certainly don't believe that thing about all Scorpio's being murderers).

Cheers & may you have plenty of every good thing.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Looking towards the forgotten Continent

Ben from HPANWO has some inside info on past goings on in Antarctica - the land that is all too often forgotten.