Saturday, December 29, 2007

Clutching the Mistletoe to Melt the Ice

I feel a bit like I've missed out on a very strong human function whenever I listen to my peers discuss their influences or discuss prominent figures in either recent or distant history.

I have to admit that I hold many forms of media close, yet I can never let them lie still, as a pinnacle of existence that remains beyond reproach. It's perhaps to my social detriment that I slaughter my sacred cows regularly. I can't abide their presence within myself. Perhaps it was a lonely, uneventful childhood that brought this out in myself, but I can never trust my memory of something. Glowing memories become shackles, blinders to the world around me.

The goal seems to be to live with imperfection. The problem lies in the discomfort in watching people ensorcelled by celebrity, fallen into a corporate glamor over a series of images, all falsely planted to coerce us to feel this unattainable attraction, and to hold ourselves to those standards, conceived through Photoshop and lighting, which we vilify, give up on entirely, or hopelessly attempt to mimic in an unsullied, physical form. I watch others admire this image before them, this essence derived entirely by cultural and commercial context, rather than understand it and undo its spell.

Much of this comes from my own frustration in our societal conception of intelligence. To Love Thought, one must somehow trudge through the minds of those who came before in periods of great social repression, racism, sexism, and nationalism, and think them the saviors of modern thought, people with whom we could never hope to be peers. We are devoid of a modern philosophy outside of kitchy little books with minimalist covers to appeal to grad students and make their universes seem that much smaller and immediately comprehensible, rather than expanding and releasing immediate understanding to create the adversity the mind needs to grow in strength and flexibility. The realizations of these aristocratic layabouts are seen as unattainable by we of the modern era, and our own achievements are relegated to what we have bought, how we dress, and our financial impact on the world around us, rather than our sociological and ideological. History has just as many self-important stars as we do currently, and time has seemingly erased their humanity in favor of their glittering surface.

if we were to really examine this phenomenon, it's not dissimilar to Loki's murder of Baldur, the dull, indestructible ne'er-do-wrong. These figures, with their bewitchment of their image and seemingly unassailability, fall prey to those powers that sit in between, antagonistic and in turn undone by the forces of change. I mean, what could all of the Aesir have been doing when they spent their time throwing crap at dumb, pretty Baldur? Functions were set aside and undone by his unassailability, his crystalline image that needed to crack to facilitate the ultimate metamorphosis of the cosmos.

I wonder what we will do when we cast off our echantments and accept our capability to achieve great feats on our own, humbled by the achievements of our peers? What strange, exciting world shall we see?

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Facing Giants

Hah. So, of course, in my paean to Thor, I receive immediate results of seing my ugly giant tendencies.

To be vague, yet specific, my eagerness to please, yet dissatisfaction with the results. I'm one to promise the world to keep people happy. I'd cow to the whims of any near, and erect no barriers for myself to grow. Instead of blaming myself, I'd blame the insistence on others on my woes. The collective is a constant excuse, and the urge to see myself exist in another's eyes seems insatiable.

Hmh. So much of myself is invested in a mask, to the point that I wonder if a void lies beneath. Poignantly cliche. That void has the capacity to hold anything, and I believe that I must begin to ally myself with that void, understand what it wants to fill it, in order that when I strip to my barest self, something lies underneath.

Monday, October 15, 2007

The Pulverizing Thunder

Idolatry's a funny animal. Some feel it's the acceptance of a fixed form for divinity, some feel that it's depicting divinity in any way, shape, or form. Some even feel that being remotely happy is idolatry.

Either way, certain deific matters seems to be given common forms and attitudes, given their mythology and the sentiment as composed by these individuals. What many forget is that mythology is the anthropomorphisation of concepts and universal patterns. Thusly, I feel that idolatry is the fixing of a single, common form of divinity to one's view of a divine concept and ignoring personal interpretation.

So, Here's me, thinking about how damned afraid I am of self-reflection, and I thought, "Who could help with that ridiculousness?" Wellllll, giving my predilections to Northern European Drug Hallucinations, I figured that perhaps having a go with a Thor motif might be a good idea.

But wait! Isn't Thor some big stupid shotgun-hammer-toting hick who doesn't know his sphincter from a steering wheel? Perhaps, as he's popularly depicted. Yet, allow us some leeway in understanding this brutish figure. He's inseperable from his depiction as a "slayer of giants." It's as with many things, where one takes on the traits of one's activities. Yet, as he kills these giants, and we ourselves take stock of their traits, we see similarities to his own traits. Fondness for drink, reliance on artifice, contempt for the weak, and so on. Long story short, the "giants" are sizeless, amorphous, unconscious traits of a person or of a situation, and the slaying of those giants is the acceptance and integration of those traits into the gestalt psyche, by way of Thor, who could be considered a deity of condciousness.

Although Thor might be lacking in some of the more subtle qualities such as Wodan, who does many things if only to confuse and befuddle, sources often list him as the Strongest of the Aesir. (On an aside, The Avalanches have come onto my internet radio, and for some reason, I've always associated "Frontier Psychiatrist" with the Aesir. Gunderic's a strange one.) Thor's embodiment of Awareness allows him to indeed change negative traits efficiently. He's almost a tactical nuke against hidden difficulties. However, to know him is to know those difficulties, and thus he remains Slayer of Giants.

More on Thor later. It's going to be a bit for me to process.

Synchronicity is a lovely lady with mammoth breasts and interesting nail polish.

Sunday, September 30, 2007

The Trail of Bifrost.

Once again, Anton and I took a drive to the outer reaches, with no true intent.

Unexpectedly, while wandering through the soft borders, I happened upon a place that had long since evaded me: Asgard. It's less a place than a state, from the human perspective. To travel there, I had made the journey through Vanaheim and Alfheim, both areas where connections to very, very old friends showed the strength of their bonds from over 20 years.

Oh, to see the plentitude of faces in all things every where. This is Alfheim, the home of the light-spirits. Consciousness is abound in their presence. The faces we see in objects also see us. The feeling of being surrounded, and permeated, by millions of tiny faces and minds everywhere can be exhilarating. It's one of many layers to the world.

In Asgard, thoughts seem to be angles of gigantic 4-dimensional geodesic spheres. What we touch when thinking seems to be a tiny little point on huge, lattice-work structures set outside our own dimensionality, where one can be in, out, on, and observing simultaneously.

Of course, a lot of these are merely symbolizations of larger concepts, and a wealth of information to collide together aids in the understanding of these structures and symbols. Wodan had shown himself to me, at one point. Blue, one-eyed and brilliant. The figure, the idea of Wodan comes to show how our universe comes to be, in our minds, and how our conceptual being forms in a framework. In a sense, Wodan gave the universe a skeleton on which to grow flesh and evolve, rather than merely killing the hypermassive giant Ymir. The separation of Ymir's parts reflects that although now separate, the universe is all merely part of a larger structure, and the pieces of these structures can then evolve separately. Ragnarok comes when these structures require recombination into the context, when their separate existence has fulfilled its purpose, en masse. The Betrayor element, signified by Loki, in truth serves a function higher than that of those on its same plane. The Wodan function serves a similar purpose of preparation and realization. Perhaps, although mythologically girded for war, Wodan had truly sacrificed his own separate existence willingly, knowing that his place in the cycle was over, and that he would always be considered part of the void, that his own function had something representing it. In response to that niche, he sired the children Vidar and Vali, a dualizing of his own concept, at least in the mythological context. Our conceptions are merely a series of symbolizations. Numbers might be seen to compose the universe, yet only from our own human viewpoint, that from its own position and construction must create limits for its own perceptions in order to communicate within its own structure and to others. To Name is to create a limitation in one's own perception of an object, and give it substantiality. It allows us to slow our view of its vibration down enough to acknowledge it as something separate. We name with more than just language: feelings, thoughts, sensations also Name an object, Memory, especially. This limitation can be considered Wodan's sacrifice of his eye to Mimir's well for knowledge, and this journey, this understanding of Symbols his own sacrifice of himself to himself, to create the paradox that allowed him the chance to see the Runes, or the Mysteries.

The Phoenix, the element of fiery perspective, of proactive observation, led me slowly, by fits and starts, back home.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Black Stone Posters and Hell's Membership Cards

So, I'm going to try to cut through all of the faux-Elizabethan bullshit that strangled the good goddamn out of this site, and hopefully we'll make something out of this blog.

Push comes to shove, this is a blog-as-alchemical-process. Now, yeah, we're talking shit like magic, wizards, and all of that chakra/pneuma/ki/donkeypiss. I've known a lot of people who can get in way over their heads in this stuff and end up with delusions of "special" powers or something indicating that having an extremely interconnected macrocosmic view is somehow more valid than trying to start a family or paying off a mortgage to a house. I'd like to avoid this nonsense, so that's why this is in a public forum instead of scribbled in some arcane tome in a campy made-up language.

Most of this is going to be musings and interpretations that come about from the media that I love best: movies, comic books, music, and TV, sometimes all tying together to ponder themes in life. Names are changed to set aside identity from the event.