I’m curled up in my wolf den this morning growling quietly to myself when into my aural vision comes an ex-nun-looking farmgirl-looking woman wearing glasses and speaking from in front of a bookshelf full of important-looking books (what book isn't?)—I become attracted to her sexually (speaking Freudiana) in anger at what she’s babbling. She’s arguing on the side of Christianity as opposed to the secular (that’s what she calls it) call for scientific evidence before unauthenticated belief.
Tangential to this, I was studying a little Gestalt psychiatry this morning and I came across what I think is a great piece of aside-thinking—and I do a lot of aside-thinking—I relate it to exploring a large river but then occasionally being fascinated by a tributary or branch that is offering a particular contributing factor to the total beauty of the big river pleasures that are causing you to explore the whole place (that Gestalt) in the first place. [God, I sound rather Lockean—HORRORS! Locke is what’s wrong with our Constitution, by the bye.] Paul Goodman [Gestalt Therapy, Perls, Hefferline, Goodman, Delta Books edition, 1951, p. 179—I’m an encyclopedist, remember?] is writing about Freud: “…to Freud, who attended closely to the libido and its somatic development, human nature is an order of the oral, anal, phallic, and genital stages. [And then comes this beautiful piece of aside-thinking] (One does not have the impression, in Freud, that women have a complete human nature—but to be sure they are therefore somewhat divine.)” And, yes, Paul, Freud did believe women as the conceivers of continuance were divine. The penis is the lightning bolt; the vagina, the vestibule; the fallopian canal leads to the lake of the womb, which is the only source of hope for all human simians—what is learned in the lake of the womb is divine, carrying in it as it does the essentials we need for evolutionary continuance in accordance with the laws of an always evolving mother-and-father planet. [Remember my theory that the Planet Earth is our true God (both paternal and maternal), and that is what we should worship with tribute; i.e., more aside-thinking.]
So I have the sexual drive that is making me angry at what this intellectual Christian babe is babbling in defense of her believing in an ancient Jewish carpenter’s son being born of a virgin birth [oh yeah, I’m beginning to believe it already!] to an underage Jewish gal who came home one night from her job at the Hashfire Inn in the Nazareth suburbs and confessed to her 75-year-old husband that she was knocked up by God, the Big Daddy himself, who assaulted her and inserted his Holy Semen in her on the path back from her waitress job, Praise the Lard! and Old Drooling Joe believed her [oh yeah, hey, I’m still believin’--now even more than before!] and Joe and pregnant Mary mounted an ass and fled to Bethlehem. Old Joseph ben Nazareth Suburbs was behind in his taxpaying, right?, such an outcast he couldn’t get a room in the Bethlehem Hilton and ended up having to make due with a stall in the hotel parking garage—can you imagine putting a pregnant Jewish babe and her old daddy out in the damn stable?—I mean, couldn’t she have gone to the Bethlehem-Israel Hospital? And proof of this fantastic birth is spread throughout the land by the Jerusalem Times based on the witness of Three Horny Caravaners clopping down the Silk Road on their smelly camels after a successful sale of stolen diamonds from Amsterdam in the Jerusalem Diamond District, using some of the money to buy up a bunch of perfumes (frankenscence and myrrh and some Liz Taylor “White Diamonds”) to take back to the lassies in their hareems—“Hey, I think I’ll have a virgin tonight!”—followed by a hearty laugh—one of those Transoxiana guffaws so popular back in those high-intellectual days of civilization (mostly civi-LIE-zation).
And this ex-nun, farm-girl woman over whom I was growing more and more excited, was defending believing in Jesus, Moses, Joshua (he made the sun stand still! oh yeah, you got me, Lard, how can I not believe that?), Methuselah (he only lived 900 years! oh yeah, I believe, Lard! I believe!). The nonsense spewing from this woman’s mouth and she’s condemning secular philosophers [of which I am proudly one] for basing their observations on evidence! Come on! Basing something on evidence! How dare you! Yeah, can you believe it? That was her argument.
Then she was followed by a Deepak Chopra-looking gentleman who was spewing the same mumbo-jumbo by saying we needed religions in order to give communities a collective reason for being. He babbled on too about how scientists want evidence of something and they can find no evidence of Little Jesus and his eventual movement (read “rebellion”) that became the Christian Church that was spread across the world by Little Jesus’s disciples, all tough-ass, mean dudes—big horny fishermen; a couple of Jesus’s manmade brothers; the crippled Saint Mark who ended up in Alexandria; Luke the doctor; Thomas the Doubter; John the Revelator and they all drew straws (lots) (isn't that gambling?) and took their mumbo-jumbo out into the world—Thomas drew India and he didn’t like it at all—“Who the hell wants to go to India, for God’s sake?” he asked Luke, the big daddy in Jerusalem, though Luke eventually had to trot off himself to spread the word in Greece. Old Saint Thomas left behind his Acta [his Acts] that tells all about how he got to India. It's unusual; it's one of those "books" of the Christian holy book that these fanatic believers aren't going to see much, if ever. Here's a nice synopsis from some dude's Saint Thomas site:
Acta Thomae, the apocryphal book is historically dated around end of first century soon after the martyrdom of St. Thomas. There are several ancients texts in existence in various languages such as Syriac, Greek, Latin, Armenian and Ethiopic. The original manuscripts are found in the British Museum
This book gives a detailed account of Apostle Thomas’ labors in nine parts. The gist of the book is as follows:
After the ascension of Jesus Christ, the Apostles met in Jerusalem and portioned all the countries of the world among themselves. India which at that time included all Middle East to the present India fell to the lot of St. Thomas.
A certain merchant by name Habban - the Raja Vaidehika of Indian King Gundnaphor came to Jerusalem looking for a carpenter to take home to the King. Christ appeared to Habban and asked him whether he was there for a carpenter. He said “yes”. Jesus introduced himself as Jesus the Carpenter from Nazareth and sold his slave Thomas to Habban for twenty pieces of silver and pointed Thomas to him. Habban asked Thomas whether Jesus was his master. Thomas answered “Yes, he is my Lord.” Habban told Thomas, “He has sold you to me outright.” Thomas was dumb founded. In the morning, Thomas prayed, “Lord, Let thy will be done” and went with Habban. He took with him nothing except the twenty pieces of silver which Jesus gave him.
They took the sea route to India and landed in a port called Sandruk Mahosa . Here Habban was received by the local King. They attended the wedding of the King’s daughter and St. Thomas demonstrated his ability of miracle healing on the troubled daughter of the King by the laying on of hands. There after they continued their journey in India. They reached the Kingdom of Gundaphorus and Thomas was commissioned to build a palace for the King in the shores of the River. However St. Thomas out of his pity gave away the money to the poor and could not build the palace. He was put in the prison. However that night the King’s brother Gad died and he was told the beautiful palace beside the river in the heavens was his brothers. He came back from the dead and told the story to the King. They were later converted to the Christian way.After ordaining one Xantippus (Xenophon) as deacon to the churches in North India St. Thomas traveled throughout India and converted many to Christianity . Among them are the names of: King of Mazdai, a noble lady by name Mygdonia, Tertia the queen of Mazdai. He was martyred outside the cities on a mountain at the hands of four soldiers.
Here's the link to the whole site:
And Deepak, Jr. said he, too, knew these secular philosophers would never find any evidence for religions (read, “God”) because that’s not what religions are about, offering evidence; they only offer a reason for hope (my word—the Christ lovers call it “faith,” though “faith, hope, and charity” are the three Christian muses. You see what that means? First you have faith. That gives you hope. And then you gotta pay the damn priest, baby, which brings in the charity part. I assume Deepak, Jr. wasn’t a Christian and was speaking as a Buddhist or Hindu or something. [I learned recently from l hat (www.languagehat.com) that Pakistanis don’t want to be called Hindustanis because that is a –stan associated with India, you know, thanks to the “intellectually civilized” British colonizers who called India Hindustan. Oh, what a lovely mess the Brits made of this world.]
My intentions were purer than fighting the idiocy of Christianity today, but watching the jungle-bound lunatics defending a totally unbelievable tale and basing their whole existences on the adoration of such an unbelievable tale sent me into a ululational spasm. These fools are so scared of the mother and father planet that they are praying 24/7 for deliverance from it—and old Southern advertising executive Jim Dickey taught us all about deliverance in that still great film of the same name. Deliverance is bullshit. Believing in Christianity is bullshit. Such fanatic religious energy that is currently spinning this earth around—driving it mad with its Dervish spinnings—is spinning right straight into what they call Hell and what I call CHAOS!
And remember what I’ve said in the past, “If you stay in the jungle, in Nature, then even the most savage acts can be committed with impunity!” If you come out of the jungle (the enlightenment) and participate in civilization (Freud called it “the Evolution of Culture”) then evidence becomes the most important reasoning tool you have in your quest to survive. From the artisans comes this evolution; from the artists: the writers, the painters, the graphic artists, the computer programmers, in them is our salvation, for these are logicians, theorists, suppositionalists—median-straddlers!
I have wolfed down a lot of thoughts this morning. My mental channels are clogged. I must rest, though a wolf really can’t rest, and when they do rest they howl—at that big wolf moon—AND DID YOU ALL SEE THAT BIG WOLF MOON NIGHT BEFORE LAST (JAN. 2ND) AND STILL A LITTLE EVIDENT LAST NIGHT? The Wolf Man filmed it; you bet; it was a great night for me and all the other lycophantics of this world. Ah-oooooooo, Ah-ooooooo, oooooo, oooooo!thegrowlingwolf
the Daily Growler
"Look at that moon it's shinin' so pretty, it's shinin' up there for you and for me...." from King Pleasure's words to "Billie's Bounce" by Charles Parker, Jr. (these words follow Charles Parker's solo on his original recording of "Billie's Bounce," take five, issued on the Savoy label).