St Christopher the Wayfarer

Today is May 9th, and the feast day of St. Christopher in the Orthodox Church. I would give his Catholic feast day as we, but he was taken off the roster for "Not being of Roman Tradition, and of late origin." Honestly, I think it was more that he is one of the Fourteen Holy Helpers who can give aid in times of trouble.  Though most of the rest are still venerated, I could just be a little bitter that St. Christopher didn't get the public praise I think he deserves. St. Chris is an interesting guy, and should be very interesting to every Wizard out there.

Dog Headed St. Christopher

Like a lot of early Saints, St. Chris has some cool legends about him. First, he was huge. Like seven
and a half feet tall, HUGE. It's also said he had a dark and fearsome face. Sometimes this gets translated as "the face of a dog". In fact there are numerous paintings and icons of him that show him as a huge, bulky, human man, with a dogs head. He was a member of the Unit of the Marmaritae, a cadre of dog headed soldier men from Chaldea. In fact, a German Bishop Walter of Speyer said he was from a race of dog headed people of huge size that ate human flesh and barked instead of spoke. From his Hagiography it appears that St. Christopher learned the common tongue of his day, and thus was able to speak with normal humans. Also, perhaps dog headed people were fairly common back then, and no one ran screaming from a massive dog headed giant with weapons and armor.

As a soldier, and someone very good at the arts of war, Christopher wanted only to serve the mightiest King around. So he went out and found himself the mightiest and most frightening king he could. In service to said king, he saw that his new master was scared of the Devil.

What's a dog headed giant to do? Go out and find the Devil, and seek to be in his service, that's what! As Christopher gets to the Devil, he finds the Devil is scared of Christ, thus Christopher goes out to find out how to serve Christ.

Finding a devout hermit in the wilderness, Christopher asks him how does one serve this new Lord? The hermit instructs him in the Christian Faith and says for Christopher to devote himself to fasting and prayer. St. Chris was honest with the hermit and told him that was going to be an enterprise doomed to failure.  Since St. Chris was a werewolf of action, the hermit told him to help people cross a nearby river whose current was so strong it was killing those who tried to cross it. Thus for years St. Christopher helped people back and forth across a turbulent river.

One day a young boy was seeking to cross, and Christopher picked up the young lad on his shoulders and began his trek across. Now you do something every day, and you tend to get good at it, so we can assume that St. Christopher is very good at crossing this particular river by now. He can cross it towing boats, he can cross it holding goats. He can cross it with a lady, he can cross it, light or shady. However, this little kid just gets heavier, and heavier, and heeaaaviiieer. But eventually they reach the other side, and St. Christopher asks the kid what is up, because he is the toughest dude around, and that was intense.

..he said to the child: "You have put me in the greatest danger. I do not think the whole world could have been as heavy on my shoulders as you were." 

The child replied: "You had on your shoulders not only the whole world but Him who made it. I am Christ your king, whom you are serving by this work." The child then vanished..

Fun fact: Christopher is not a name, it is a title. It means "Christ Bearer". There are some strong connections to St. Christopher and St. Menas of the Coptic Church, but no mention of a dog headed giant in those stories, and St. Menas was an ascetic after he was a soldier, and both carried the titles of Wonder Worker, Soldier Saint, and Christ Bearer. The title is filled by the person, and sometimes more than one person, as a collective.

Remind you of anyone we know?

Do I have to spell out all the cool things here? We have crossing of chaotic rivers, guiding the dead, safe travel, and protection from the plague as well as untimely death. We have a being, a Saint capable of defending the weak, and lifting the weight of the world, it's sins, and the God who made it. Wonder Worker indeed!

St. Christopher looks a lot like a Christian Hermanubis, actually. Someone who we might want to get in touch with in our current times. Not Christian? I am unsure of St. Christopher cares as much to your denomination, as much as you are a decent person who isn't trying to destroy others for their own benefit. He did help EVERYONE across that river, after all.

Too tenuous for you? Do keep in mind that His oldest counterpart IS Egyptian after all, and may be one in a line of Powers who simply kept working through the regime change of organized monotheism. One in line with Saint Brigid, and Al Kidir, who just kept on working and helping through the ages. It could also just be an honest example of synchronous blending as cultures mixed and mythic lines were cross bred, like the Indo-Greek sculptures of Zeus and Heracles guarding the Buddha in meditation, or the ever changing role of Shiva in the Pan Asian mythosphere from India all the way to Japan. Or none of these. Your mileage may vary, and if so, that's cool.

Only one way to find out though.. ring the man up, and see for yourself.

St. Christopher's medals abound in the west, of use to Catholic and non Catholic alike. Painfully popular he is both an official Saint and a Folk Saint.  If you don't happen to have a chapel or church dedicated to him near by (back in the olde days you would need a relic of the Saint to dedicate a church to them, except those Saints who were took bodily into Heaven, that is. Thus they would be physically present.), you can always get yourself a small picture or post card, a candle, and a small bit of water will do.

A candle will give light to allow you to be found, and the water is there to refresh and give life, also St. Christopher is very much associated with water being the patron of sailors. Most official pictures of him that you can get in a religious supply store will have a prayer or two to him printed on the back. Most of the prayers that I've found for him online have left me a little flat, honestly, so I usually just do my research and start talking.

If you are Christian you will have a more sure link to him, and even if you aren't you can ask for his aid by virtue of Christ's compassion, as well as his own if you are in a bad spot. You can also cite precedent of Jesus helping and hanging out with Pagans, sinners, and scalawags. He's a heck of a nice guy, but if you call on him he may then expect you to also start to be a heck of a nice person as well.

He's skilled at getting people from place to place unharmed, not just physical travel wise, but he makes a good psychopomp as well. He's also a great defender of the weak, and is the patron of athletes. A Soldier Saint he's good at defending, the best defense being a good offense. He can also just help your enemies get lost for a while.

Offerings wise, he is an Action Saint so be ready to do some good deeds, and don't be surprised if after he grants a favor someone might ring you up looking for a ride or help moving. In fact if you are having trouble getting his attention, start doing those things, and HONESTLY (sincerity is key here, folks) let him know it is because of his example of kindness and devotion that you do them. If you do it  only to get some favors your intention won't be pure enough. You have to actually start being a good dog.

Many Christian Saints seem way more interested in you doing good, and being good, rather than towing a dogmatic line, so if you don't help out some folks in need when they are brought to you, don't be shocked if you are left stranded somewhere to see how it feels for a while. As an all around tough dude, who labored under some heavy burdens himself, and willingly died a martyr, he may not be gentle in reprimand or request. Great needs require great deeds after all.

This Orthoprax approach vs an Orthodox approach may not hold if the Saint in question is a big fighter of Heresy, or enforcer of Dogma. Saints are people too, yo, and sometimes folks gravitate more towards guardians of a tradition, more than a guardian of humanity.

The Things You Cannot Stop

In Memoriam: For Mrs. A.

Oh my heart it aches to stay, but the flesh will have its way. 
Oh the way is dark and long.. I'm already gone/ I'm gone.
Eurydice - Hadestown

As of about 2pm I got the news that the mother of my best friend just passed. She had been struggling health wise for a while, and now is no longer in any pain. She was like a second mother to me, and took me in to her home when I had no where left to go.

She was kind, a magnificent artist, and was one of the most nurturing and accepting people I'd ever met. She had the sight, as does her mother, as does her daughter. If you were at all a freak, she would be a mom to you, in the best of all encouraging ways. Their home is one of those that feels like home to you, no matter who you are. It is festooned in her artwork from basement to eves, scrolled along moldings and carved into woodwork. Brushed canvases, and elaborately detailed plates for the light switches. Everywhere is knotwork, elves, dragons, trees and vines. Everywhere is a green world with a sun shining, and a night sky spread with stars so thick there is scarce a space for darkness, and the moon reigns over them all as queen.

She used to have nightmares about zombies, so her daughter and I made her a talismanic shovel to guard her dreams. A long handled spade shovel carved, etched, and tied with protection, full size, that sat next to her bed. What better tool to lay them to rest, than a shovel?

The Orphics, whose cosmology is rich and complex, said that in the beginning, wrapped around the cosmic egg, were two coupling serpents, Chronos (Time), and Ananke (Necessity). From them the whole universe as we know it flowed. Ananke is the web of causation that flows through the field of Time, woven by the Fates.

There are some things that can't be fixed. There are some things you cannot stop. No matter how hard you try. No matter how badly you want to change them. Time brings all Necessary things to completion.

I've never been a hard hearted man. I am grateful for that. At times like these, in times like these I am reminded of why softness is a virtue. A hard heart will crack, break, and shatter, and the whole world can shatter with it. Sit with the pain. Be brave. Be braver than you ever thought you could. Soften your heart and be of service, and in your service show your gratitude.

 Even sitting here with a pounding headache, choking back vomit, and trying to see the screen, all the while wiping tears and snot off of my face, I am grateful.

I am grateful for having known Sharon aka Mrs A. I am grateful for having such a great friend as her daughter. I am grateful for her hospitality, her kindness, and her care.

So tonight, we set some lights for her, that she may always find her way, and that all sorrows should shrink from our lights. If she wishes, she may dwell in a place green and growing, and where the stars fill the sky to bursting, and the moon reigns over them as queen.

You can join us, if you like, and set a light or two. That our fires my outnumber those stars, and she may find her way.. to wherever she chooses to go.

Pour the wine, and raise the cup/
Drink up brothers, you know how. 
And spill a drop for Orpheus/
Wherever he is now.


Wherever he is wandering/
alone upon the earth,
let all our singing follow him/
and bring him comfort.
- Eurydice - Hadestown

"He is Me, but I am not Him."

My favorite line from "American Gods" comes when Shadow goes to Iceland and meets Odhin. Shadow confronts the Aged Wanderer about his doings in the Americas, to which the All Father replies: "He is me, but I am not Him." This one sentence sums up a great deal about my own personal philosophy on the Gods.

Gods are strange critters. They change based on where you plant them. Maybe they are just so large, that new aspects come out when given the freedom to do so. I honestly have no idea. But I like the idea of interactive change. Terroir indeed!

Mamman Brigitte via Gracjana at http://vinegaria.com

The best example to my mind is dear St. Brigit, aka Bride, aka Mamman Brigitte, aka the Lady that Just Won't Quit. Celtic Goddess extraordinaire  Saint of the Roman Catholic Church (who still has wells and trees sacred to her), and of course here in the Americas partner to La Baron. Something I didn't know about religious history and oppression, was that quite a lot of Irish were shipped to the Americas as slaves or indentured servants, because they wouldn't give up many of their pagan ways, and they were a pain in the backside to the British.

The Irish mixed quite nicely with other oppressed folks and Mamman Brigitte "Who comes from England" (as per her songs) took up with the Old Baron and New Mythoscapes were born. A red haired, milk pale Goddess of force, fire, and the Dead.

Is she the same Lady who the Celts adored back when Iron and Bronze were the avant guard of technology? To me, yes.. and no. She grew here. She mixed first with Roman Christianity, and then into the African Diaspora religions. The vine cuttings were Celtic, but grew in new soil to become something, someone, new, and just as lovely.

My Dear Shiva (unsurprisingly: ganja, dreads, dark skin tone, etc, etc, etc.) has a large Rastafarian following, as quite a lot of Indians were "imported" to the New Indies. Of course with Dear Maha Dev there is also all His permutations into Buddhism: Lha Chenpo, Mahakala, Yamantanka, etc. Each sharing a root, but each a different flower.

There are some who say that Shiva made it all the way to Greece as Dionysus, "The Foreign God from the East". Known explicitly for His "Foreignness", His constant intoxication, His worship at holy mountains,  His association with rivers (Stix and Ganga), and the wild, mendicant behavior of his devotees. Sometimes Shiva is associated with the Elder Dionysus, and Kumara/Skanda with the Younger Dionysus. Both are associated with bulls, and both are said to grant whatever you like after ardent Sadhana, even if it wrecks you personally or the world generally (King Midas anyone?). The similarities were so similar that Greek and Indian priests of their respective God, recognized each other as worshiping the same being, as far back as Alexander's invasion of India. It is also worth noting that Dionysus himself was said to have "conquered" India back in the day. Alain Danielou is a spectacular resource in this regard for the curious and curiouser.

Bulls, Ghosts, Intoxicants, and Nudity..
Everything good in life.

There are even links that Mahacinakrama Tara was an import of Xi Wangmu, the Great Mother of the West in Daoism. Modernly pictured as quite clothed and demure  but traditionally depicted as a fanged and clawed woman with a tiger's tail, who would either grant you the secrets of Immortality or devour you from her abode on Mount Kunlun. In Buddhist/Hindu iconography she is shown with fangs, draped in tiger skin, claws, with her left foot forward. A Shamanic Chinese Goddess to a Tantric Indian Devi, to a Buddhist World Protector

Isis even made it to India as Pattini, whose oldest temples and images are very Grecian, but whose worship and interaction are decidedly Indian. See Mogg Morgan's Isis in India for further education.

However, things may stay "The Same", things always change. The Old Gods can be the New Gods. New Gods. Hell, maybe they are just growing as people. It sure would suck if everyone treated me the same as they did when I was sixteen. Not to mention the fact if Deb and I picked up and moved to Paris, and lived out the rest of our long, long lives there, that we would be dramatically different people in a decade, than we would if we stayed put in the Garden State. Same beings, different people.

It is a bit disconcerting when you start to really interact with the Gods as people. Real people. It's the same as if you got to know one of your favorite celebrities or inspirational movers and shakers both past and present. Hell, even that awkward transition from co-worker to friend is similar. First you see them as functional. Sometimes purely so. A strange kind of objectification, where they are more vending machines than people. Which is strangely fine to me, if you want to accomplish tasks with them. You need something done, you pay your service fee, and an expert is sent out to your abode to help you with your problem.. Much like the chimbley sweep I had business with today, in fact.

A more civilized Xi Wangmu with
Kirin companion

They are still people, but you don't know them as people. It's not Rick, the grandfather, who struggles with gender identity and had a brilliant past as a vaudevillian cross dresser. It's Rick the handyman who always smells like high end perfume, so you assume that he is also handy with the ladies, but boy can Rick fix your faucet!

These changes happen because of one thing: Relevance. When someone is simply a task oriented drone, before you get to know them, they are relevant for the completion of a task. When you interact with them as a person, and dare I say it, a friend, they become relevant to your life. They are a real person, part of the supporting cast of the drama that is your own life, maybe even a co-star. You two will fight for billing, probably, but it doesn't have to be contentious. You work together, and that crazy synergy multiplies both your efforts instead of just adding them. Relevance can also be put under the header of Survival. Things that do not change die, and become food for something else. In order to survive there must be a change. You want your environment must be relevant to each other, until you either transcend your environment, or you die. Also, be careful not to kill your environment in the process of your transcendence, or again.. you will die.

When there is a shift like this, there is an increase in relevance, in personal interaction, and in changes of survival for all concerned. That my friends, is beautiful! That is, if you can make a friendship work. You can't force a friendship after all.. believe me, I have tried.

Back when I was a younger occultist, in the high culture of the late 1990's, I was involved with the ACoD, a magical group that was focused on the Arabian roots of Hermeticism, as well as semi traditional Ruhaniat. Working with Ishtar became a staple of the organization, and try as I might, we did not connect well. I tried for YEARS to work within the system, with the spirits, and very little progress was made. I just didn't fit in.

Flash forward about a decade and I gladly, ans very successfully work with Dame Venus, of Tanhausser fame, who dwells in the verdant Venusberg. I was taught that Venus and Ishtar were the same person just in different clothes, so to say. That never satisfied my gut. Georgia peaches from a modern strain are far different than a Chinese peach from a wild tree six thousand years ago. Both are peaches, but different peaches.

They are the same, but different. New flower, old root. Same plant, different soil. Same being, different person. He is me, but I am not Him.

**Just as an addendum.. I am not trying to tell you how things "really are". As if I could! Just some food for thought. My own opinions on these things change with frightening speed and regularity. Just some ideas, not hard beliefs.

Book Review Monday: "The Arte of Glamour"

Well, it's my day off, and thus I figured I should blog about something or other. Got to keep getting up on that horse! Not sure if the horse is the Internet, or blogging, or you guys. Either way, I am on it!

But what to write about? Man.. I don't even know. What's that Internet? You want me to review Deb's book? Well, if you insist. I am such a soft touch for all of you.

First, I was lucky enough to get an advanced copy as she is.. you know.. my wife. For those of you not lucky enough to be married to the author, I suggest you head to Amazon, and pick up a copy so you can follow along.

Now I will say this off the bat, if you have been reading Deb's blog for any length of time, the book will be both completely expected, and completely unexpected. The expected is the candor, flow, and accessibility of the work. The unexpected is a small glimpse into the heavy hitter aspect of the magical work.

The discussions of Glamour, and the self work associated with it sets the tone of the book. It is a tone of honest respect. We dress well, we act well, we show respect, not because we are being forced to by nasty demanding society, but because dressing well, eating well, and being witty and Charming shows respect for our bodies, our minds, and our whole selves.

The section on manners and etiquette teach the important lesson of proper respect for others as a gift you give them, not as something that is capitulated because you are oh so much less than those to whom you show respect.

These two bits of the book can equally be applied in both magical and non magical settings. This is is a whole life kind of book. Not just a book for a richly draped magical sanctum.

Speaking of magical sanctums: "The Arte of Glamour" isn't just "Deb's guide to unfucking your life from the outside in". There are common sense ritual protocols, and format, as well as a wonderful section on some Very Helpful Ladies who you may like to invite over for tea, or Saint Germain.. whichever.

I've personally tried the format, and worked with some of the Ladies in question. It's all good stuff. Deb is very upfront about introductions and descriptions, and provides Titles and Glyphs for each. A book of Spirits of Arte. Arte in the truest sense of a thing done to its exaltation. It's a modern Grimiore in modern parlance with modern references. To me, that is invaluable.

There is also an effective spellbook of tricks to use for various and sundry purposes all related to Glamour and getting more of what you want out of life. I've seen them work. 'Nuff said.

All in all it is a solid book filled with good advice, and it is honestly really interesting. There are few things worse than a book that has good stuff in it, but is too dry or dull to get through. This is a book full of good stuff, that is actually engaging, and what's more it makes you want to engage in your life in a more fulfilling way.

Sickblogging 2013: A Pelican bleeding out, and a mess on the floor.

Currently, I have about half a dozen posts waiting to be finished. In my opinion they are all shit. In my opinion they are all shit enough to have made me want to not blog anymore... like ever. My muse seems to have gone on vacation. She's not returning my calls. I think she may have shit on my living room carpet on the way out.

All this talk about not being labeled, and the Great Work, and who may or may not have achieved it, is usually my jam. But I can't seem to muster up enough inspiration to string together a thousand words on any given topic, have it make sense, and have some sort of point. 

FEED MY PRETTIES! FEED!

So, since I have nothing left to give, I've decided to, in Gordon's words, "bleed all over the internet."

To be honest, it's been hard to be cheerful or engaged in anything lately. And by lately, I mean for months. I am told this is depression. So, I've been a bit depressed, and angry. Frustrated with everything, and not feeling at all myself. I know teeeeechnically according to many there is no permanent self, but when you are used to being a normal, functional person, and then go with no apparent stimulus to being pissed off and sad for all your waking hours it feels a lot like you were some how pick pocketed of your very soul. 

Since the wedding, and recovery period (aka honeymoon) my emotions have been leaning this way. Which is weird to me as it was one of the happiest days of my life, if not THE happiest. Since then, life has been a full rush into nothing but work work and more work. Honestly, it's wearing me down to the point where I am so unused to things I enjoy, they make me nervous, and I've grown to resent the basic things I have to do to keep even the possibility of them going. With the last few days of extreme overwork, honest and true exhaustion, followed by sickness, all I have wanted to do was lay on my side and wait till sleep takes me. 

I've not felt this low since I was a teenager. I was a really fucked up teenager. Mostly because I had a really rough childhood. My parents were great, please understand, but other bits of my childhood from about age eight to twelve were so horrible that when I got my first initiation at a twilight crossroads everything involved was not so bad. (Just to give you some scale of horribleness: I know for a fact that a third degree burn does not hurt too much.. because your skin melts off.)

"So you want to get to Hadestown?

Romeo and Juliet got nothin' on us, babe.

You'll have to take the long way down

Through the underground, under cover of night

Laying low, staying out of sight

Ain't no compass, brother, there ain't no map

Just a telephone wire and a railroad track

Keep on walking and don't look back

'til you get to the bottomland" Hermes to Orpheus - Hadestown

That initiation happened to be being struck by a car on a highway that I was crossing on foot. It hobbled me by giving me a compound fracture of the lower leg, skinned half my face, and closed one of my eyes. I could only grow a beard on half my face at the time. Knocked across three lanes of a highway, I lay crumpled and bleeding, shaking with shock. As Providence would have it, the car behind the car that hit me was a doctor and his family. That doctor pulled in front of my dying carcass and blocked traffic, and administered first aid till the paramedics arrived. What was left of me, wheeled into the operating room was so gruesome that an ER nurse vomited on the floor. 

"Darkness took me. And I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead and everyday was as long as a life-age of the earth. But it was not the end. I felt light in me again." -Gandalf LotR

I was pulled out of a darkness so perfect and quiet with someone (the doctor) asking me if I knew where I was. "Do you know where you are? Do you know your name? Can you tell me what date it is?" I was being oriented in space and time, and I claimed the name of my birth

In a reality of shifting identity, a world of crystallized chaos slowly turning, melting, and reforming, your name is the only identity you have. Sometimes it's the only identity you need. Iamblichus was explicit in saying the old words of power, the old Names worked because they worked. The Russian Orthodox Church is currently combating the "Name Glorifiers" who say that the name of Jesus IS Jesus. The who science of mantra says the name is the sonic form of the being. It's why many times the outer names were titles, while the inner names used only among priests were the sonic form of the being invoked. The name has a real link to the being. A more perfect representation of the being than any statue. 

"Gandalf? Yes... That's what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey. That was my name. I am Gandalf the White." - Gandalf LotR

Names are a touch point to space and time, and in space and time there are deeds. Your whole history can be hitched to your name. The whole line of all of your comings and goings. You can remember yourself by remembering your name.. your real name. If you can't remember that, remember your history. One can link you to the other, to the person you are, or to the person you want to be. 

When you find yourself being pulled down, taken apart, you need to pull yourself together. Because you can be anything. Hero or Villain. There are things that build you up, and things that tear you down. Those things that tear you down also test your mettle. It shows where you are strong, and where you need strengthening. This isn't just for folk who call down storm and spirit, this is for everyone. What's more, it is terribly hard, and terribly painful. 

But, there is a bright side. The Universe will call you to the carpet. You will be found wanting, many times, but then you have the opportunity to pull yourself together and get stronger. It won't be easy, and you may need help, in fact I think you should always have help, but you can do this. If you want it bad enough... and you do. Because the alternative is being a victim. You aren't a victim. You are a survivor, and that puts you on the path of Heroes. Big. Damn. Heroes. 

Mythic Reality in Action: Living Mythically Pt. III

Still recovering from Hurricane Sandy state wide, and the great presidential election has come and gone, with  a much less caricatured candidate winning. I consider that a win for the nation, though it clearly does not solve all of our problems. That is left to the doing of things by those elected.

I know.. I know. "WTF JOW!? HOW IS THIS RELATED TO MAGIC!? YOU BUGGER OFF FOR MONTHS AND NOW THIS!!?!?!1/"

Give me just one moment. You know how I strongly recommend everyone live mythically, yes? Good. This is how living Mythically plays out on the ground. It does get super political and ultra lefty liberal.

Let me 'splain. Every nation, every family, every person, has its own mythology. Things that may or may not be factual, but are none the less true. That is the positive side of mythological thinking. It hooks you into something greater than yourself. Something transphysical, but still manifest in the world that you can draw strength  support and power from by the use of your mind and ritual action. This happens in the politics of nations always. Always? Yes. Always.

The neoconservitive movement has constructed a mythic framework. One not based in reality, but they made one. This mythical framework was made in direct reaction to 1960's radicalism. Liberalism was blamed as the source of race riots, drop outs, and the decay of the moral fabric of the nation. It's true, Liberalism did do that. Sadly, the moral fabric was colored arsenic green. It was toxic.

We all know the pre sixties laundry list of sins: Homosexuality was a disease. People of color were teeeechnically equal, but denied the right to vote, denied access to education, and denied employment by the intentional districting of things like gun and liquor stores into neighborhoods of color and out of the traditionally white suburbs. Asian women were exotic flowers, while Asian men were expected to always have a braid and a rice hat. Women were to do as they were told and remain loyal to men who beat them, cheated on them, and were discouraged from working or having any money, power, or agency of their own.

So yes, there were riots, and lootings, and chaos. The harder society clamped down on the freedoms of the people, the worse those things got. Liberalism opened the door to Chaos, because Order was choking the life out of the majority of Americans. Liberalism opened the door to Chaos, because those who keep you from having your basic human rights; those who keep you from actually being treated as a human being, equal to all others in sovereign dignity will not give you your rights if you ask politely and fill out the correct forms.

The sixties were radical because, en mass, a generation chose to think differently. They chose to see, acknowledge and try to change a broken, repressive, top heavy, racist, sexist, elitist system. A generation demanded nothing less than an equal share of their own sovereign humanity.

All those peace and love, flower power, hippies were shoulder to shoulder with black panthers, psychonaughts, mystics, feminists, free thinkers against the fire hose, the billy club, the gun, and the noose. Many died. Many more carried scars and injuries that they would bare for life. Some were incarcerated, and spent the rest of their lives in a world of concrete gray, till death found them through disease, old age, or the tip of a make shift knife.

The neoconservitive movement made a decision, based on Straussian philosophy. They would make a Mythic America. One where we were the ultimate power of Goodness and Freedom, even if all evidence to the contrary said otherwise.

An excerpt from the documentary "The Power of Nightmares" :


Professor HARVEY MANSFIELD, Straussian Philosopher, Harvard University: He didn't give interviews, or write political essays, or appear on the radio—there wasn't TV yet—or things like that. But he did want to get a school of students to see what he had seen: that Western liberalism led to nihilism, and had undergone a development at the end of which it could no longer define itself or defend itself. A development which took everything praiseworthy and admirable out of human beings, and made us into dwarf animals. Made us into herd animals—sick little dwarves, satisfied with a dangerous life in which nothing is true and everything is permitted.

VO: Strauss believed that the liberal idea of individual freedom led people to question everything—all values, all moral truths. Instead, people were led by their own selfish desires. And this threatened to tear apart the shared values which held society together. But there was a way to stop this, Strauss believed. It was for politicians to assert powerful and inspiring myths that everyone could believe in. They might not be true, but they were necessary illusions. One of these was religion; the other was the myth of the nation. And in America, that was the idea that the country had a unique destiny to battle the forces of evil throughout the world. This myth was epitomized, Strauss told his students, in his favorite television program: Gunsmoke.

The Myth is still being perpetuated. It swims in a small, but strong circular loop based on a prefabricated ideal American society.

1. We are the Just and Right protectors of Liberty and Democracy.
2. We must do what is necessary to safeguard Liberty and Democracy.
3. Any excesses can by excused, and validated because we are Right and Just.

Now, the Straussian neo-cons are a pale shadow of the Nazi propaganda machine, but for their time in the 60's and beyond they were on par with the Soviet propaganda machine.

The problem is when excesses and abuses are excused, and the dehumanization of entire populations is writ in as the cost of doing business. It is the same mindset of  Manifest Destiny. It is the same mindset of the Inquisition. It is pure archonic hubris. We will conquer and civilize. We have all the answers. We will remake the world in our image. Progress and Dominion at any cost.

This is relevant. Politically  this is why the election swung the way it did. The heavy handed use of propagandized Myth building, when the Myth has no basis in actual, manifest reality. Mittens did win the election. He was elected by his peers. Other conservative,  white, moneyed men came out in droves to support him, and did their best to bully their subordinates to do the same. Because paying for health care won't cut into the profit margin, but it will cut into YOUR job, wage slave.

Fortunately, though, there are more folks who are NOT his peers, than there are those who are.

Mythology rises naturally. We are Myth making beings. Myth is the context of our minds. Shared Myths make culture. Culture is your operating system. Part of the consolidation of power is the co-opting of Myth through a geo-cultural location. If you get the Mind, you can get the Will. If you get the Will, then you get the Body. The first Sovereign Emperor of China did it by destroying the Hundred Schools of Thought, as well as forbidding languages, religions, and cultural practices. Not to mention burning history books, burying scholars alive, and maintaining strict censorship over his own Mythology.

We as individuals and societies are always setting a Mythic course. Science gives us facts. Myth lets us extrapolate meaning. Myths must be broad to be effective. I know I have done a lot of conservative bashing in this post, but here is the praise cookie at the end. They did it. They made a Myth! The Myth of global justice, and security, and ever expanding prosperity for all citizens. The problem was it was both too fractious, and too specific. The wave form rose, broke, and collapsed. It will happen again.

The Myth cycle of the Neo-cons was, and is, one of Utopia  as well as one of a Golden Age. The trick to that cycle is that the Utopia collapses, and the Golden Age ends. Every. Single. Time. I've heard two origins for the word Utopia, both from the Greek. One meaning "Good Place", and the other meaning "No Place". Both are accurate.

The tragic flaw of the Utopian ideal is that of a people set apart. The proverbial "City on a Hill". Utopia is set apart from other people, other cultures, other nations, and from nature itself. It raises the human concern above that of the biosphere. The Utopian myth cycle happens over and over in every civilization. Much like all cycles, it is an Alchemy. It refines its materia, in this case society. If you add in new thoughts and ideas, and peoples willy nilly then you pollute the materia and have to start all over again. The same cycle of Destruction, Chaos, Order, Flourishing, Corruption, Decay, Destruction.

To be honest, I think the Utopian Myth cycle will always be doomed to fail, by virtue of being so exclusionary. There is always someone "outside the walls". Even if all humans were really, honestly, included, it would fail, because it would promote human interest above that of Life as it flourishes. It will always happen so long as we see ourselves as apart from the world rather than a part of it.

Wrapping up, what the hell does all of this depressing, Mythic mess mean for you? You are constantly living in an overlapping Mythoscape. Differing codes seeking to program reality. Different languages singing the now. Be aware of it. Beware of it. Because, if you are not aware, you will get sucked in to someone elses trip. A bit part where you should be the Hero.

Make YOUR Magick. Sing YOUR songs. Learn from traditions, but do not limit your mind to them alone. The moment you hit a wall, and things start to get really uncomfortable, it just means you've grown too big for the place you are currently in. You have two choices, leave your bonds behind, and have your own shape, or stay inside, and take the shape of your bonds, which is totally fine and good if that i the shape you want to be.

Our Myths shape us, but we shape them by participating in them. In shaping them, we shape the world. In shaping the world, we can either become the next Archons, remaking the world in our image, or we can allow Life to truly flourish, in our societies, in our Minds, in our Magick, and follow the Path laid out by Nature. Our Myths are laid out by Her. We extrapolate. We interpret.  We spin fact and conjecture. The Patterns are Hers. She is the Great Weaver. We are just trying to see the sailboat.

In Gratitude

Well, it's been a time. As many of you may know, the eastern shore of the Americas was hit but a colossal storm named Sandy. The day before she hit I left work early, and sped home chanting mantras to Ganesha for a swift and safe ride home.

The day of, Sandy beat us down. We will be recovering from this for a long time. Luckily, Our Burrow (our condo) is strategically positioned in the back of the building, away from trees, and our whole neighborhood has underground power and gas lines.

Still, I made offerings and prayers to Hermes, Zeus Sky King, I asked Sandy herself to pass us by in peace, and all through the storm I was half across the veil, trying to calm the winds as best I could. Locally, things went well. Coast wide not so much.

The day after, Halloween, there are still brawls at 2 mile long fuel lines, curfews, and widespread suffering  in our part of the state we were not hit as hard as the shore, and the Burrows of New York. I made more offerings and prayers for friends, and family, for Deb and A. sitting on a fuel line in the hopes that there would still be some there when they arrived. A special thanks to Zeus/Jupiter, Hermes, and Dis Pater for their aid.

On November first, I waited for two hours for one tank of fuel. There are police at most of them now to prevent brawls. My boss in that particular job was very kind, and allowed me to go during a work day, so there would be some fuel left. My other job is closed until further notice.

We hosted some friends, let folks charge up phones and laptops, and the use of our internet which would pop in and out periodically. Due to the gas situation we did little exploring of the wreckage.

I am grateful for what we have, and what we've been spared, but it is still really bad.

I hope that all of you are well, and it is my hope that things get better soon.