"Deep" Thoughts (7)
May 19, 2013

Star Trek Into Darkness

I’d like to shed some darkness on the new Star Trek Movie.

 

I don’t usually drink, but my viewing of Into Darkness started two hours later than planned so I decided to past the time with a carafe of Japanese Rice Wine, a pint of Sapporo, a pint of some hippy home brew, and, finally, a shot of southern comfort.

I find a few drinks helps me think more clearly and feel more openly movies I view.  The pot I smoked before driving 30 minutes to the theater helped as well.  By the time I got in there I was ready for Star Tours at Disneyland I assure you.

You can’t discount the inner geek child pleading to see movies like Into Darkness based on ads, and ignorance of the history of Star Trek.  JJ Abrams started this young man’s interest in Star Trek.

I hate to tell you Trekkies, but the movie purportedly tells the early history of one of our favorite star trek villans who I cannot reveal to you.  There are alot of them so don’t think you know.

 

I’d like to segueway for a moment to discuss a phenomenon I’ve noticed when smoking or eating alot of pot.  I call the experience ‘The I Love Yous’.  After taking a bit too much pot, the stoner begins to feel like the pot is too strong.  This means you’re feeling out of control and worrying about your mortality.  This fear of mortality leads to a regression into  childhood religious rituals (if you had a religious background that is), or at least some sort-of semi-recent spiritual interest.  One feels afraid of their death due to a nervous anxiety attack, a panic attack.  This feeling leads to a need to ‘fix’ the problem out of desperation as it were.

In some cases, the pot head who smoked too much seeks to focus on helping others instead of worrying about the self–which may be perishing anyway.

In my case, the nearest person who I can help is my girlfried.  So I begin to treat her in a way that I imagine is how she wants to be treated.  But it is deeper than that even.  Many of our human problems come from disconnection from one another emotionally and mentally.  ‘TILY’ helps the, for lack of a better word, ‘victim’, convert nervous energy into love for another.  The fear of self-harm turns into the pursuit of pleasing a loved one.  But because of the almost desperate nature of this effect, it becomes apparent in time that the feeling is a fleeting, drug-induced reaction.  Beware though this can lead to marriages, engagements, and the desire for a child.

Or it can lead to prayer to whatever you think is above, for mercy or for strength or the ability to convert your terror into love and compassion for all human kind.
For when the world is falling apart, the only thing that will matter is love and compassion for your fellow human being — for all beings ideally.

But once the effect fades, you come back to a more stable reality and wonder ‘what the hell was that all about’?

redBlob

 

January 20, 2013

The Non-Theism of Paul Tillich

With amazing courage Tillich boldly says that the God of the multitudes does not exist, and further, that to believe in His existence is to believe in an idol and ultimately to embrace superstition. God cannot be an entity among entities, even the highest. He is being-in-itself. In this sense Tillich’s God is like the God of Spinoza and the God of Hegel. Both Spinoza and Hegel were denounced for their atheism by the theologians of the past because their God was not a Being or an Entity. Tillich, however, is one of the foremost theologians of our time.

–Sidney Hook–

November 13, 2012

Quote of the Day

“As sunlight obscures the stars by day so too does wakefullness blind us to the fact that we are still dreaming.”

- Liber Kaos, Peter J Carroll.

September 23, 2012

The Magickal Diary

For me, one of the hardest aspects of a Magickal Practice is using the Magickal Diary consistently.  In fact doing any of it consistently is a challenge.  It takes serious will to do it. You never reach the pinnacle, I mean imagine trying to direct your consciousness through infinity all in a short moment while performing various ritual gestures.  The simplest thing is infinitely complex.

 

If you consider some of the open source options, most beginners must know at least six different rituals.  But these rituals are infinitely deep because of the correspondences in 777.  I sometimes think about creating a 777 database so that a user can pick any correspondence and see instantly all of the other correspondences to that beginning item.

If I could connect it to a projector or some algorithm that could project colorful images related to all of the correspondences.  Just brainstorming as a way to get away from Systems Analysis.  Then again isn’t 777 a System?  I don’t think anyone has entered those correspondences into a database.

But then no one has created a meta sales forecasting engine either, but I digress.

Last night driving home from a local town, it began to rain so hard that I actually felt a tinge of fear we might be swept away by flash floods.  It was the hardest rain I have ever seen here.  I had to slow my breathing down a little over it.  You could barely see, and it was non-stop for hours.  We were driving through a rural area at night.

I feel lately as if I”m swamped by too many things to do.  Though I seem to be doing well — on top of work, school, and moving, I still feel a bit uneasy about the future.  I guess it something you never shake.

I went to a metaphysical bookstore today, looking for an Eye of Djet.  Not sure why.  It seems like a general enough symbol of my interest in Egyptian Mysteries.  Since symbols always seem inadequate and make me feel like a poser anyway!  LOL!

 

 

 

 

 

September 22, 2012

The Song of the Sannyasin by Swami Vivekananda

 

Wake up the note! the song that had its birth
Far off, where worldly taint could never reach
In mountain caves and glades of forest deep,
Whose calm no sigh for lust or wealth or fame
Could ever dare to break; where rolled the stream
Of knowledge, truth, and bliss that follows both.
Sing high that note, Sannyasin bold! Say –
‘Om tat sat, Om!’

Strike off thy fetters! Bonds that bind thee down,
Of shining gold or darker, baser ore;
Love, hate; good, bad; and all the dual throng,
Know, slave is slave, caressed or whipped, not free
For fetters, though of gold, are not less strong to bind;
Then off with them, Sannyasin bold! Say –
‘Om tat sat, Om!’

Let darkness go! the will-o’-the-wisp that leads
With blinking light to pile more gloom on gloom.
This thirst for life, for ever quench; it drags
From birth to death, and death to birth, the soul
He conquers all who conquers self. Know this
And never yield, Sannyasin bold! Say –
‘Om tat sat, Om!’

‘Who sows must reap,’ they say, ‘and cause must bring
The sure effect; good, good; bad, bad; and none
Escape the law. But whoso wears a form
Must wear the chain.’ Too true; but far beyond
Both name and form is Atman, ever free.
Know thou art That, Sannyasin bold! Say –
‘Om tat sat, Om!’

They know not truth who dream such vacant dreams
As father, mother, children, wife and friend.
The sexless Self! whose father He? whose child?
Whose friend, whose foe is He who is but One?
The Self is all in all, none else exists;
And thou art That, Sannyasin bold! Say –
‘Om tat sat, Om!’

There is but One – The Free, The Knower – Self!
Without a name, without a form or stain.
In him is Maya, dreaming all this dream.
The Witness, He appears as nature, soul.
Know thou art That, Sannyasin bold! Say –
‘Om tat sat, Om!’

Where seekest thou? That freedom, friend, this world
Nor that can give. In books and temples vain
Thy search. Thine only is that hand that holds
The rope that drags thee on. Then cease lament,
Let go thy hold, Sannyasin bold! Say –
‘Om tat sat, Om!’

Say, ‘Peace to all: From me no danger be
To aught that lives. In those that dwell on high,
In those that lowly creep, I am the Self in all.
All life both here and there, do I renounce,
All heavens and earths and hells, all hopes and fears.’
Thus cut thy bonds, Sannyasin bold! Say –
‘Om tat sat, Om!’

Heed then no more how body lives or goes,
Its task is done. Let Karma float it down;
Let one put garlands on, another kick
This frame; say naught. No praise or blame can be
Where praiser praised, and blamer blamed are one.
Thus be thou calm, Sannyasin bold! Say –
‘Om tat sat, Om!’

Truth never comes where lust and fame and greed
Of gain reside. No man who thinks of woman
As his wife can ever perfect be;
Nor he who owns the least of things, nor he
Whom anger chains, can ever pass thro’ Maya’s gates.
So give these up, Sannyasin bold! Say –
‘Om tat sat, Om!’

Have thou no home. What home can hold thee, friend?
The sky thy roof, the grass thy bed; and food
What chance may bring, well cooked or ill, judge not.
No food or drink can taint that noble Self
Which knows itself. Like rolling river free
Thou ever be, Sannyasin bold! Say –
‘Om tat sat, Om!’

Few only know the truth. The rest will hate
And laugh at thee, great one; but pay no heed.
Go thou, the free, from place to place, and help
Them out of darkness, Maya’s veil. Without
The fear of pain or search for pleasure, go
Beyond them both, Sannyasin bold! Say –
‘Om tat sat, Om!’

Thus, day by day, till Karma’s powers spent,
Release the soul for ever. No more is birth,
Nor I, nor thou, nor God, nor man. The ‘I’
Has All become, the All is ‘I’ and Bliss.
Know thou art That, Sannyasin bold! Say –
‘Om tat sat, Om!’

— Swami Vivekananda

Composed at Thousand Island Park, New York, July 1895.

September 15, 2012

True Vampiricism

“…when the ritualist is pushed to the point of death from sexual exhaustion in this way, the ritualist’s spirit is enslaved by the aides and his or her power transferred to the aides.”

 

–AC–

August 17, 2012

it is not for everyone

it is not for everyone

to flail against this world

as a lonely death-filled mutant of cold

aloof and ailmental intellectual

hater of the bourgeoisie aggrandizement

the paradox: the recluse; the conflicted elite.

damned narrow-minds, their conformity, so effete

petty, shallow, and empty pseudo-intellectuals

with laughable satisfaction

in clean homes

a good-paying job, a sense of duty, and endless distraction

the happy ape that robs

 

no you’re a state of consciousness

concealed from the rest

free from the rabble

a divider at best

who longs for love

goes mad and, while off-course,

looks for an equal, a mirror

like the Turin Horse.

 

Ahh these hum-drum days pass forlorn for you

Anything is better than nothing

even suffering will do

sadly, you must stick with this life

 

so have a laugh,

life is short

explore the many selves

find the missing truth always lost

since you know it all already anyway

go back through you to the endless you

and pick up the pieces

til the Ultimate Reunion occurs

to return us to the Source of All

gone far far beyond mere modes of existence

those obscure illusory clouds of knowledge

vaporous in the distance

alleged appearance of order and pitiful claims of Truth

nothing compared to the pleasure of

a True Self’s whim and fancy, forsooth

free from suppression

desirous of  all pleasure to your self;

‘fuck the rest’, you howl

gone beyond the little self’s magic hour

that the rabble believes is It

as they stumble blind where shadows keep

the mundane, so-called lives of lost sheep

 

learn to love life’s changes

every step of the way

while on the path to immortality

I notice a little bit of you in everyone, I say

those who despair depravedly

with a rejected struggle over bad breaks and isolation

 

 

Yet, it is not for everyone.

Though I serve to provide dictation.