Return of the Goddess

While at the library the other day I happened on a book about the origins of religion. In it I read that many early gods were not gods at all but rather goddesses.  There were pictures of numerous pre-historic goddess figures, an image of the Egyptian cow goddess Hathor and many more from various cultures around the world.

The text went on to say that these early nature oriented peoples recognized the relationship between a woman’s reproductive cycle and the phases of the moon upon which they determined their agricultural activities: planting, harvesting and such and from this associated a certain super-natural aspect with womankind.

I guess overtime woman has lost some of her magical association.  But, when I think about it there are still women out there who continue to radiate goddess-like qualities.  Lady Gaga, Madonna and Sinead  O’Connor all seem to think quite a lot about religion.

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Revisiting the Magic Dragon

I was visiting with Granny Applehead the other day.  She was telling me about being a flower child back in the day: the communal living, free love and days of care-free frolic under the influence of the magic herb.  The way she tells it there was such optimism then, a sense of unlimited potential in overcoming the materialistic trappings of her parents’ generation.  I don’t know if she was remembering accurately but the memories certainly were pleasant for her.

Granny’s not getting along quite as well as she used to; her knees are stiffening up and her face is starting to mold.  She thinks it will soon be time to move someplace where she can get help with her basic needs.  Well, at least she won’t be lonely; being a baby-boomer she’ll have lots of company.

She seemed pleased when I told her the government appeared to be easing restrictions on marijuana use and possession.  Wouldn’t it be nice, with all these seniors moving toward assisted living, if we could provide a special brownie with their afternoon tea?  Then they could revisit the magic dragon during their afternoon naps.vision serpent3

Belief is truth to the Believer

Boy, it’s really hard to know what to believe these days.  I read in a news magazine my hero, Mr. Rogers, was a former Navy Seal with twenty five confirmed sniper kills during the war in Viet Nam; truly mind-boggling.  But, then I went on line looking for details and found out that the story wasn’t true, that it was just an urban legend.

I got to thinking that the safest thing to do is doubt everything, but my friend told me that it’s impossible: to be skeptical of everything is to be skeptical of being skeptical which is a logical contradiction. (I guess he didn’t know about Godel’s Incompleteness Theorem).

My friend said I should have faith that some things are true, that belief is truth to the believer. I guess people with a strong religious faith believe God is truth and that when they’re in doubt they can ask God to direct them, which means they have a way of communicating with a supernatural entity.  I don’t doubt their sincerity but judging from the variety of interpretations different people have for the Biblical texts I wonder if they’re all talking to the same Being.

Well, maybe it’s just that wires get crossed sometimes.

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Do you ever get picked on?

I’ve been having problems lately at doll school.  This Chucky doll has been making fun of me, teasing me for having a visible fusion seam that runs around my entire body, of being monochromatic, of always wearing the same dress.  He’s relentless and I feel persecuted.

But I’ve gotten to thinking about people who have suffered truly abominable persecutions. Take St. Sebastian.  He was tied to a post and shot full of arrows and when that didn’t kill him he was clubbed to death-just for having unacceptable religious beliefs.  Then there was Giordano Bruno who had his tongue cut out and was burned at the stake just for having the audacity to suggest there were probably intelligent beings on other planets.

Well, I guess I can deal with Chucky.  I’ll just ignore him; if that doesn’t work maybe I can get my friend Ken to teach him some manners.  I know, I know, retribution isn’t the answer but sometimes it sure is pleasing to contemplate.

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What Hell is like

I just finished reading Dante’s Inferno.  In case you don’t know it’s a book about what Hell is like.  In it, Dante tells about being guided by the poet Virgil into the underworld, which is this huge pit containing the souls of all the people who have died and been found guilty of evil doings without having done anything, penitence-wise, that would have maybe gotten them to a more favorable eternal location.

The first level of the underworld is for people who haven’t been baptized and, basically, all they have to do is wait around forever, but as Dante and Virgil go down deeper and deeper they discover each successive level holds souls who have been more evil than the last and are made to suffer worse conditions.

On level five heretics are encased in fiery graves and watched over by the Furies and Medusa.  On level seven violent souls are submerged in a river of boiling blood and watched over by the Minotaur so if they come up for air they get shoved back down.

When the poets get to the very bottom they find Satan encased in ice and unable to move, so they climb up his huge body and escape from Hell.

Boy, Dante sure had a good imagination.  The amount of detail he goes in to is amazing.  He must of thought about Hell for a long time.  I wonder if it was because he felt guilty about something or if he was just trying to warn people to walk the straight and narrow.

Anyway, I think people today think differently about what Hell will be like than they did in Dante’s day.  It probably will have more to do with the loss of mobile communication devices and reality TV.

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Nothing new under the sun

I was reading Ecclesiastes the other day.  One verse says: ‘what has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.’  The whole book is about the meaninglessness of life.

From the other side of the aisle, Nietzsche says in an infinite universe with no God to direct it, the finite experiences of human existence must necessarily repeat themselves eternally; over and over and over……….

Seems pretty depressing to think there can never be anything new and fresh.  Still, the other day I was having a conversation with my alter ego, the daring flamboyant me who’s always trying to get me to push my limits, to step beyond my comfort zone.  Daring me convinced shy, reserved me to accept an invitation to tell my story to an auditorium full of junior high students.  When the time came I was petrified but somehow made it through.  They even applauded and I felt pretty good about it in the end.  It gave me a new found confidence.

Still, I don’t see it happening again.  I know my true nature and I’m not talking to her any more.

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Looking for work

It’s time I found a job.  The bills are piling up, the rent is coming due, the cupboards are a bit bare and heaven knows I could use another dress.  I need to step up, display some confidence in my natural talents.  It’s not everyone who can pass for animate and inanimate.  I remember, during my childhood, performing, or rather not performing, for the neighborhood children; they always seemed satisfied with the silent, stoic persona I offered.  Maybe some sort of acting; I just need to find the right fit; A job with lots of variety, excitement and opportunities for advancement; and of course, health insurance.At the Fair 3

In need of a spiritual lift……………

Today I really feel like I need a spiritual lift but I’m not sure which direction to take.  The disciplined approach appeals somewhat; maybe a Yogic immersion.  I could get a  CD but maybe it would be better to join a group.  Others around me of like mind might provide inspiration.

The ancient mystics figured it out for themselves through Gnostic readings and maybe a bit of self-imposed deprivation.  I’ve got a copy of the Zohar around somewhere and I really don’t eat much anyway.

Or, perhaps I should seek the right path through the gift of Grace.  Someone wrote, Kierkegaard I think, that all I would need to do is take the leap into faith and embrace the great paradox. I guess he meant believing in a logical absurdity.

It may be that the best path is through one of the great traditions.  The Catholics have some wonderful liturgies; the Hindu pantheon is incredibly compelling in all its literary and visual manifestations and one can’t ignore the Buddha’s relentless pursuit of Nirvana.

Maybe I’ll just go for a walk.with the Hari krishna 3

Evil me

Are you ever inclined to do something you know you shouldn’t?  It’s not like you’re afraid of reprisal or that you desire retribution but something else; some sort of primal impulse, as if you had an evil you within demanding to be released.

Well, the other day I met these Lego people; they were so docile and friendly.  They always had smiles on their faces.  I spent some time with them and I don’t know what it was, maybe it didn’t seem reasonable to me that they should be so worry free all the time, but my dark side emerged.  Once I realized how flexible these folks were I started removing parts.  I pulled the arms off of Fred and attached them to his feet; I put Veronica’s head under John’s left leg.  I found myself engaged in frenzied activity; body parts were everywhere.  Gradually I regained partial control and stopped, but evil me couldn’t resist hiding a ways away to watch them.

I know it was a horrible thing to do but it really didn’t turn out so bad in the end.  They all were able to obtain fairly well paying jobs with a traveling circus.

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walking on water

While checking out at the super market the other day I happened to glance over at the tabloids. On one, the cover story was, ‘Jesus doll walks on water.’  Usually I don’t pay much attention to these journals, the sensationalistic stories usually being so incredibly ridiculous, but this one caught my attention being about a doll and all.  So, I bought a copy and later when I had time, read that a young boy in Florida was playing with his Jesus doll beside a pond one day when the doll suddenly proceeded on its own impetus across the pond toward an old lady on the other side.  The doll, so the story related, moved up to and touched the old woman who was immediately relieved of the arthritic pain she had been suffering.  The doll then turned around and moved back across the pond to the little boy.

Wow!  There were pictures and everything.

As much as I enjoy a doll getting positive attention my skeptical nature questioned the accuracy of the account.  While dolls may certainly have independent natures, performing miracles, even for a Jesus doll, seems pretty incredible.  But, maybe where there’s a will there’s a way.

I think I’ll take a bath.

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