Do We Have The Right To Worship Any Damn Way We Want?

Okay, by now I bet you heard that the crazy leader of a splinter Mormon cult, the FLDS, was finally captured because his car's plates were unreadable. ABC News keeps playing a years' old clip of a blond follower of The Prophet shaking in rage bellowing "I HAVE THE RIGHT TO WORSHIP ANY DAMN WAY I WANT!" which got me thinking--do we?

Now, grant it, I've never had any personal contact with this cult. They haven't sent me any threatening letters or promotional literature. I do take issue with child abuse, and splitting up families for a whim (as this cult does.)But, as I do believe in religious freedom, does that mean I have to feel bad for a guy who is crazy enough to have 60 kids?

No, it doesn't. This guy hurts others. That's a little hard to defend in any court, celestial or otherwise. One advantage of kooky cults is that they're ususally all in one place, so we can keep an eye on them. I have nothing against kooky cults. Especially kooky suicide cults (and the FLDS looks as if it's going to be one). They're worth it for the entertainment value alone. They want to hurt themselves, fine--but as soon as you drag someone who isn't willing, then things get psycho. It would be like dragging little chidren off to Sunday School on a perfectly sunny Sunday. AHHH!!!

So, I hope that cults themselves, no matter how kooky, all cults can be allowed. But as soon as they break the golden rule, smack the individulas responsible. And then give them all Darwin Awards.
Besides, we used to do human sacrifices. We could think of suicide cults as voluntary human sacrifices to save the rest of us. Sounds good to me--my ass is saved.

Write On

So, it's been nearly a year since I and my puppy tucked our collective tails between our legs and went across the Pond home to Mommy because my handmade home was burnt down, with my mauscript inside of it. I'm unemployed, trying to readjust to the culture shock of living back in the Philly area, am trying to remember what country I learned phrases from, and learning Mom's computer. So what's the best thing I could do?

Write another book, of course! Not that I've ever gotten one published, but hey, that's not the point, is it? It's trying to ride to life's bucking bronco before the bell rings. As before, I define spirituality as whatever keeps you bothering to breathe and writing books that will destined to be trashed seems to be my way of worshipping. Keeps the nightmares at bay, anyway.

I'm on Chapter Thirteen of this damn thing, and so my blog posts will most likely be a bit sporatic until I have a presentable mauscript. It touches on spiritual themes in a sort of modern myth grabbing a few heroes from past and future. So far it used to be called Rena's Story, but I'm not in it, so now it's
A Work In Progress Titles have the virtue of being the easiest part of a book to change. The story is told in third person, but mainly through the eyes of Captain Jean-Luc Picard. (He's the only Star Trek character in the book...so far) I have an Everyman character who is based on Peter Gabriel, who really needs to be in more personal mythologies. I don't think I can give his actual name without incurring Peter's wrath....wait a minute...maybe I will stick his name in, then. Off to stare at a blank piece of paper until drops of blood appear on my forehead...

RUN! HIDE! IT'S A FAIRY!

My absolute favourite telly show is Sesame Street. I was born a day or two after the show premiered. It is the only show that has survived all of my 36 years (going on 37). So I get really nervous every summer wondering if the series will get renewed. Granted, since the mid 1990's I haven't been keeping up with the show. But I'm glad to see it still exists and has an infusion of new blood to keep it alive. This pic here is, of course, the spawn of Satan, the evil incarnate ABBY CADABBY!

She's not human! She's a fairy! She admits it! She can do magic! She's PINK, for goodness' sake! THE HORROR!

As if we don't have anything else to argue about. World peace...the hole in the ozone layer...deciding whether or not Pluto deserves to be a planet...apparantly these all pale in comparison to the affrontery of a blatantly pagan character joining the ranks of conservative Christian parents and television critics. I guess they watch the show more than their kids do.

The argument against Abby is that she's a faery. What kind of positive image does that give young girls? A Goddamn good one, I say. Women contain the mysterious ability to have babies--that's magick. Ever talk to men? They tend to view women as creatures from another planet (and women generally hold the same view as men.)

Give a kid a metaphore and they'll roll all day with it. More than their parents, apparantly.

Minister Says To Sunday School Teacher "You Go, Girl!"

Now, I'm sure you've heard of this by now: An 85 year old lady who taught Sunday School in the same church for over 50 years was fired by letter from the new pastor. His reason is a line from St. Paul the Arsehole that women should be seen but not heard. I'm starting to think the pastor was the real killer of Jon-Benet Ramsey. The Bible also condones slavery--so does St. Paul--so I'd love to see the letters any of the blacks in the church are going to get.

I have NOTHING against Christians. I was one myself for nearly twenty years until I finally got tired of pounding my head against a wall. My own Mom is Catholic. But what is this taking every word in the Bible literally attitude? And why, if you're going to do that, pick on some topics and not others? Jesus also said to give up all that you have and give to the poor if wanted you to follow him. How poular is that, eh?
That may be one reason Jesus himself never wrote His words down--I doubt he ever meant for them to be taken one rigid, unchanging way all the time for all people in all circumstances. The only way to explain the unexplainable is through allegory and poetry. No sacred text is to be taken as Gospel...except maybe songs by Peter Gabriel, but that's another post.

So, my advice to this brave lady kicked in her behind---be a Witch! You know you want to!

Deep Thought About Living

Hey-ho, rraven the blog here with another edition of the Bloggit Show! ::Applause::

Anyway, on with it.

One of the struggles I've had all my spiritual life is how important or individuality is. Why struggle all your life to Know Thyself if, after death, we are all absorbed by the Great Sponge In The Sky? If we are all part of the picture, then just how important are those individual pieces if in the end all the pieces fuse together? These are the things I think about after ten cups of tea and unsuccessfully tring to find a job. Anyway--

Ever keep going to the same town on your vacations and, even after years, know you haven't seen all that town had to offer? Or how about a favorite book--or movie--at each reading/viewing, you see different things. Perhaps The Great Spirit works like this.

Perhaps each creature is a differnt point of view of God/dess. We all are different incarnations of each other. And all of these incarnations are living simultaneously. I guess then end of the universe will happen after Last Call. Then we go home to bed, sleep it off, and do it all over again.

Yes, I hear you--"Go get another cup of tea."

This Confirms Our Suspiscions

AOL today reprts that a (where else?) California chocalatier found a chocolate figurine in the shape of the Virgin Mary after cleaning a piece of the equipment. Apparantly the Goddess got caught with her finger in the cookie jar, so to speak. I guess it was that time of the month. I'm sure I wasn't the only one who thought chocolate was sacred. The Aztecs and Mayas knew it was ambrosia. Is it any wonder that a top chocolatier called Godiva?

In other news of a Catholic flavour, dogs attended their annual mass in Bolivia. Of course, they only have to attend once a year, so put that guilt away, all you human Catholics. And remember, only on blog posts do human chocolate and dogs mix--although a delightful colour of Labradors is called chocolate.

All I know for sure is that I'm out of chocolate, so God/dess help us all.

Thoughts From The Dentist's Chair

Perhaps God/dess wasn't awake enough when He/She/It created the universe. Hot caffinated beverages had not been invented yet. Perhaps that's why things are as screwy as they are. If I were God there's a lot of things that would be different. Like what, I hear you clamor? Ah well, since you insist:

• Teeth would NOT have NERVES in them (replay title link)


• You should only remember what you wnat to remember


• Any white person attempting to rap should spontaneously combust.


• Male nipples would be pockets you can hide headache medicine in--or at least do SOMETHING, dammit


• Coerce Peter Gabriel into making more albums. He's in the second photo in this post. Come to think of it, I'd make posting Blogger pictures easier, too


• Oh, yeah...probably that world peace thing...

Henge a Henge

Pardon me as I reel from all the outpouring of love Pony received for her 2nd birthday. Imagine--the world has been blessed with two years of Pony. Thanks for the kind thoughts. She even got a video from Starfleet.

Yes, from the above link you can see that I've discoverd YouTube.com This is the sort of thing I would've killed for as a teenager. So I'm making up for lost time.

Which leads us to Stonehenge, and all the other stone monliths and circles and other more or less geometrical patterns. Every now and then I wonder why these damn things were built. (Some people's spirituality requires prayers and flowers--mine seems to require pondering questions that have surprisingly little to do with my everyday life.) Calander? Temple? Job Fair? What?

Which brings us back to YouTube and, of course, Star Trek: The Next Generation. I'm stunned by the amature vidoes on here, ones that are actually quite funny and quite visually spectacular. Partcularly the Star Trek vs Everything category. How many hours did these things take to do? The selecting and editing and layering and posting and then commenting on these video tributes to Star Trek, Star Wars, the Mentos commercial--in order to do a decent parody you have to really know your target. That takes time. And usually a certain ammount of affection.

Perhaps that was why Stonehenge came to be. It was cool. That's why they did it.

Now back to partying with the Pony puppy...

Heca-Tea

My dog Pony is two years old tomorrow. About a year before she was born, I knew I was ready for another canine in my life, after the death of Rusty. As I was homeless at the time, I couldn't adopt a dog from the shelters. So I asked the Goddess Hecate for the right dog, preferably a girl dog. I'm not kidding. I did. I wrote a poem about the perfect dog for me, and Hecate responded. (Reminds me of the saying, "Be careful what you wish for--you may get it.") Pony and her three sisters were born on a day sacred to Hecate. Pony is consecrated to Hecate--sort of a Divine Mother of All Godparents. I'm writing all this today in case I get zapped from either too much partying with the pup or get zapped by Hecate for not having a funny enough blog post.

One of the reasons I asked Hecate, besides Her love of dogs, is that She also cares for the homeless. Food as offering to Her was traditionally left at a place where three roads meet. The food was most likely eaten by homeless or travellers and not by the Goddess or Her Holy Hunting Hounds.

I wish this tradition could be revived, especially in honor of Pony. Tea instead of wine or mead, please. Even if stray dogs eat it instead of people, there would be just that little bit of mercy placed in the world. I can't leave meals out in Philly these days. I'd be arrested for encouraging rats. And rodents, too.

The Angels Are Laughing At Me

Well, this week I've rambled on about how guard dogs should be doing the work of guardian angels, since my ex-guardian angel was a bit of a flake. As you recall, we split up about 1994 so he could go live in England.

I guess he works for Scotland Yard now. Nice to know he's on the case, since my Mom who is a saint has to fly to Canada in one week.

Perhaps my ex-guardian angel Dusty was working with Barney the ex-guard dog in Wookey Hole last week. Who knows what was in those teddies! Perhaps that will be the next thing banned on airplanes.

Someone is looking after my Mom as well as myself--always good to know. Britannia, Brittania rule the international airways.

Zen Master Puppy

I've been reading on and off about Zen Buddhism for 20 years now, (as well as Paganism, Christianity, Hinduism, etc)and it never really sunk in until I stumbled upon this photo on the Nuthin' Butt Dogs site. I can't put it into words--and I've got a feeling that's the point--but Zen Master Puppy here is Zen.

Hounds of Love

Worst murder rate in Philly ever...Mid east exploding...I'm unemployed...and what am I worrying night and day about?

BARNEY! Yes, the dog from Somerset (around where I used to live) who, in less than fifteen minutes, destroyed a collection of rare teddy bears he was supposed to be guarding. WHAT the hell is going to happen to Barney? Poor beast was already lumped with the name of a purple dinosaur and now has been fired due to mismanagement of human lack of common sense. His future has been described as "uncertain" by the BBC.

But what do we puny humans know? Perhaps those teddy bears were invaded by Daleks. I used to live in Glastonbury, and just 14 months before the teddy bear decapitation incident, a Dalek was found on Glastonbury Tor. Both Dalek and teddy bears were staying at...the same place, Wookey Hole! COINCIDENCE?!?!?

Or the teddies could've been demons from an alternate dimension. Fire Barney? Hell, no! I say we make him the Top Dog of the world! Savior of Saviors! You like possessed teddy bears yelling "EXTERMINATE!" and blasting disintegration rays out of their button noses? Fine, but why take the risk? Save Barney Now!

Meeting Angels

I once met my guardian angel, now ex-guardian angel. Barney did a better job of watching me than this angel named Dusty (which should've been a big clue right there as to how effective he was.)I did the stream of consciousness writing thing to "contact" him and got some good art from it. He told me lots of things, but none really useful. He said angels can only intercede seven times in their guarded's life, which sorta made sense. I only once touched him.

I was living in Lancaster County, PA at the time and needed a nap between my two jobs. He walked in, dressed in black and white, and proceeded to give me a foot massage. I did not have my glasses on, so I couldn't see his face well. I assumed it was my boyfriend at the time. I soon fell asleep. That was all. Back to dreams and automatic writing after that.

Angels can mess with your head, so I'm a little disconcerted that they have their own fan club in many many religions. They're just as messed up as anyone else. They also tend to think differently. "Angel, I'd like a pony." "But you don't NEED a pony." "Cheers, Mate." And, even when being given a glimpse of the beauty of eternity, it still doesn't change the price of beans any.

So my guardian angel Dusty left for England about 1994 and never came back. We still send each other Christmas cards and the occassional daydream, so it was an amiable split. I have no guardian angel now.

I prefer my dog. God/dess bless Dusty, wherever he is in England, but my dog at least chases the nightmares away, which is more than any heavenly being has ever done. No wonder things are so screwed up--we have guardian angels instead of guard dogs!

Walk Through the Fire

The computer has returned from hospital. Count your blessings.

Today is the first anniversary of my home in England being burnt down. I'll spare you the details, since I've mentioned it in previous posts, but it all went up in 15-20 minutes except for me, my dog and my U.S. passport(!). I built the home with my then S.O., Satan. Apparantly, I must've been too happy, I thought after the shock started to wear off. That's why the Goddess let my little home and manuscript and puppy photos and etc burn. It's definately something I tend to ask Her after I die. She'll probably blame Her guard dog. She might also blame Peter Gabriel, the guy who wrote the song with the same title as this post. I listened to the song too much, I unconsciously willed it into being. Man, life doesn't get much weirder when it mirrors a PG song.

My apologies for the sombre not of this post. Here's a couple of light-hearted links about fire:

• Come on Baby light my fire


• Fire joke #1


• Fire joke #2

Stephen Hawking

Stephen Hawking, if you've lived under a rock for the last 25 years, is the world's leading physicist and best-selling author who happens to be disabled. I visited Cambridge in Sept 2001 but kept missing meeting Professor Hawking. I've got a feeling he'd reved his chair to warp speed when he saw me. So, since I couldn't get an actual interview with him, I've asked questions to his best-seller A Breif History of Time. (I stole this idea from Al Frankin. Thanks, Al!)

Me:Is there any evidence there is a God or Goddess?
SH:

What is it that breathes fire into the equations and makes a universe for them to describe?

Me:What is your best guess at what the Grand Unified theory is?

SH:One has to be grown up enough to realize that life is not fair. You have to do the best you can in the situation you are in.

Me:Does God play dice?
SH:

God not only plays dice, he sometimes throws them where they can't be seen.

Me:How many licks does it get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Tootsie Pop?
SH:

If we find the answer to that, it would be the ultimate triumph of human reason--for then we would know the mind of God.

Let's Blame Barney

The computer is still in rehab, faithful readers. But I think I know what happened to it. Barney got it.

Poor Barney. I've got a feeling he may be the mysterious ship in the night of my whirling dervish of a pup, Pony. What were they doing, letting a DOG guard teddy bears? How long has Barney been submitted to guarding teddy bears? Was he a model employee and then realized his job was going to be outsourced to India? Was he mad at being named Barney? If the damn teddies were so valuable, then why weren't they under glass? At least teddies can be repaired. What about poor Barney's reputation?

Of course, the blame goes to the humans in this situation. But since the humans have power, they all blame Barney.

Might as well blame God. If it wasn't for the universe existing, this wouldn't have happened!