Saturday, November 2, 2013

Eurydice's Prism

I turned my collar to the cold and damp 
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light 
That split the night 
And touched the sound of silence 

And in the naked light I saw 
Ten thousand people, maybe more 
People talking without speaking 
People hearing without listening 
People writing songs that voices never share

And the people bowed and prayed 
To the neon god they made 
And the sign flashed out its warning 
In the words that it was forming 

And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls 
And tenement halls" 
And whispered in the sounds of silence

I'll be your mirror
Reflect what you are, in case you don't know

The Velvet Underworld's Rock and Roll Animal dead; Heroin Heroine says
to him "I'll be your mirror" while Orpheus makes Metal Machine Music

If I could make the world as pure and strange as what I see,
I'd put you in the mirror,
I put in front of me.
I put in front of me.
Linger on, your pale blue eyes.

Lalita, the "blue-haired"

Only one of them is dressed like a Reflektor

Mira in the blue wig (I'll be your mirror) 
Eurydice in the veil

Two Things as water and water resolve into one complete confection,
but not before a trip to the morgue

Before they donned the Blue Wig, Lou donned the Blue Mask

I'm beginning to see the light.
Here comes two of you,
Which one will you choose?
One is black, one is blue.

Dis-ney Gurls

So hold me, Mom
In your long arms

In your automatic arms
Your electronic arms

Snow White the cocaine Lorde challenges Pop Queen Katy (I'll be your Mirror, Mirror) for the throne; the "real" popstar opposing the ProTools  construct in the Billboard narrative

She dwells in a city unseen on the reflektive screen

("Her recordings are like a mirror where anyone can see her. Through her recordings, it is as though she has been smashed into a thousand shards of voice and scattered so that she is everywhere at once.")

You hear my voice, you hear that sound

Wisdom, he says, put forth a receptacle of flesh for the Logos, the spiritual seed . . . We admit that the elect seed is both a spark kindled by the Logos and a pupil of the eye and a grain of mustard seed and leaven which unites in faith the genera which appear to be divided. . . . And this worked as leaven, uniting what seemed to have been divided, soul and flesh, which had also been put forth separately by Wisdom. And Adam's sleep was the soul's forgetting . . . Therefore the Saviour says, “Let your light shine,” referring to the light which appeared and gave form, of which the Apostle says “which lighteth every man that cometh into the world,” that is, every man of the superior seed. . . . And Adam without his knowledge had the spiritual seed sown in his soul by Wisdom. (Excerpta ex Theodoto)

As above, so below

[T]he god in some sense always 'reflects' the worshipper, takes on the colour of his habits and his thoughts. The morality of a god is not often much in advance of that of his worshippers, and sometimes it lags considerably behind. The social structure is also, it is allowed, in some sense reflected in the god: a matriarchal society will worship a Mother and a Son, a patriarchal society will tend to have a cult of the Father. . . . Not only does the god reflect the thoughts, social conditions, morality and the like, but in its origin his substance when analysed turns out to be just nothing but the representation, the utterance, the emphasis of these imaginations, these emotions, arising out of particular social conditions. . . . the religion of the Kouros and the Kouretes, and of Dionysos and his thiasos are substantially the same. Both are the reflection of a group religion and of social conditions which are matriarchal and emphasize the figures of Mother and Child. The cardinal doctrine of both religions is the doctrine of the New Birth, and this doctrine is the reflection of the rite of social initiation. One element in the making of a god we have seen to be the projection of collective emotion, the reaction of man on his fellow man. But man does not sit in the void reacting on his fellow man; we have now to consider his reaction on the world of nature that surrounds him. (Jane Ellen Harrison, Themis)

Like an embodiment of the world-soul, Nature reflects back at us the face we show her. She is not the fixed entity we fondly think she is, but a sea of metaphors, constantly shape-shifting--the inviolate nymph we must preserve; the dangerous animal who destroys; the temptress we must penetrate or rape; the pregnant mother who gives birth to abundance; and so on. . . . Religion is successful when it acknowledges soul . . . The Virgin Mary was elevated by popular demand to the status of a goddess behind whom stand all the great goddesses, from Astarte to Artemis, Isis to Sophia. The daimons crept back in as mediating saints. Christ Himself was multifarious in the early days of Christianity, being freely identified with pagan gods and heroes from Osiris, Apollo and Dionysus, to Eros, [and] Orpheus . . . .

Orpheus, who was traditionally connected with Thrace, travelled into the underworld of Hades, armed only with a lyre and his songs. Like the shaman's sacred chants, they could charm the dangerous denizens of the underworld and persuade them to release souls they had abducted. Orpheus sought the release of Eurydice, his wife, who had died of a snakebite. She symbolizes his own soul - which he retrieved from Hades, only to lose her at the last minute when he fatally looked back to make sure she was following him. (However, the earliest versions of this myth relate that he was successful in retrieving her from death.) (Patrick Harpur, The Secret Tradition of the Soul)

Phenomenal exhibitionism vs. the Veil: 

The Pop Queen, having burned her blue dreaming wig, is in pink Chanel, covering herself with everything that exists; she no longer strips for titillating monsters but instead conceals herself and awaits the syzygoi

(But we saw it already, through a glass darkly)

Ingmar Bergman's Through a Glass DarklyThe brunette girl is
incurably insane, trapped between two worlds, acting in the Father's
play and yet beyond all of it . . .

Eternally waiting for God (the Spider from Mars)

Now the serpent was more subtle than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made

She leaves a trail of honey to show me where she's been
Seeds from a thousand others drip down from within

Could you be the devil?
Could you be an angel?
. . .
Infect me with your love and

Crocodiles in the water (you just need to remember)

I’m hoping at the gates,
They’ll tell me that you’re mine
. . .
Come and take a walk on the wild side
Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain
You like your girls insane?

An angel in the garden of Evel


It might be, as the Neoplatonists thought, a property of the world itself, like an underlying soul. When Jung said that the archetypes were unknowable, he was following Immanuel Kant, who held that behind every phenomenon was an unknown 'noumenon' — an idea which echoed Plato's view that behind our world lay a world of ideal Forms. But paradoxically the archetypes could be known — through the images by which they represented themselves. (Harpur)

"Summertime Sadness" . . . two girls (lovers, kissing)

Lana is wearing the white dress; the girl who
jumps is wearing the red dress

To get on the Radio, you have to clothe yourself in clouds of

In Cocteau's Orpheus, our protagonist spends all of his time listening to the radio

Richard Dawkins finds it impossible to avoid talking about our 'selfish genes' as if they are personal daimons. They 'create form', he says, and 'mould matter' and 'choose'. They are 'the immortals'. They 'possess us'. We are merely 'lumbering robots' whose genes 'created us body and mind'. This anthropomorphic language, I suggest, is hardly the language of science, but let it pass. For Dawkins is unconsciously literalizing a myth and part of him knows that it is natural to personify. When he asks us to believe that our most treasured attributes are mere biology, pressed into the service of our genes, he is unwittingly inverting and literalizing the traditional — and, I would assert, the true - order which sees our bodily life, on the contrary, as the mere vehicle of our daimon, . . . the 'selfish gene' is allotted to us by Chance and thereafter subjects us to its inexorable Necessity — the pattern we are forced by the genes to live out. Chance and Necessity, the twin goddesses of science, are supposed to rule our lives. But Plato's daimon tells another tale, one which science has, once again, not so much replaced as inverted and made literal. The daimon is allotted to us in accordance with the life we have already chosen. (Harpur)

Waiting for the Man

Many a schoolgirl has fallen in love with the tragic figure of Orpheus upon reading some re-telling of the ancient story of the musician’s failed attempt to retrieve his beautiful new bride, Eurydice, from the gloomy Greek Underworld so that they might be re-joined to enjoy a long life of wedded bliss together upon the sunlit earth. The idea that such a talented, magical man would brave the dark halls of Hades’ and Persephone’s house in the effort to prove that his love for a woman is stronger than death itself has made more than one adolescent female heart skip a beat.

The romantic figure of the youthful, active, passionate, sensitive musician who seeks to rescue the nubile, silent, passive, wounded woman is enormously compelling from a feminine psychological perspective. The old story suggests to each new female reader the possibility that she might hope to find just such a willing, loving man—a prince, so to speak—who feels deeply within himself that same self-consuming power of erotic relatedness that she herself has been taught to value so highly. She is encouraged by the myth to imagine a god-man whose sex and profound spirituality are commingled, who does not withhold himself, but continuously shares himself (fluidly, expansively) with her because it is his nature to do so, who sings his desire for her in deep, penetrating tones that originate from some mysterious place beyond them both, from some otherworldly, lyrical kingdom where perfect love dwells beyond the threshold of ever-suspect speech. This romantic vision is, of course, an anagogic expression of precisely that heterosexual feminine craving for erotic-emotional reciprocity that proves so dependably lucrative for rock-and-roll promoters, especially if they were fortunate enough to book Elvis Presley, Jim Morrison, Tom Jones, or the early Beatles.

The anguish of Orpheus is that of modern man divided against himself, but unified by his art, his song. Orpheus embodies . . . the craving for truth and its substitution by illusion ... His obsessive need for Eurydice and yet his revived creativity after her final death correspond to the ambivalence of the male artist toward the source of inspiration on whom he depends and yet whom he regards as a destructive obstacle to his creativity ... the primordial hostility between the sexes is basic to these interpretations of the myth. (Liz Locke)

I can sell you lies
You can't get enough
Make a true believer of
Anyone anyone anyone
I can call you up if I feel alone
I can feed your dirty mind
Like I know I know what you are

Icon of symmetry, swallowing sides
Fall down in front of me, follow my eyes

Evil Eve gives the apple to herself in Oz . . . force of occlusion
selling candy dreams becomes force of liberation under another level
of interpretation

Malkuth (the terrestrial Paradise) below the Abyss 
Binah (the celestial Paradise) above the Abyss

Babylon and Babalon

Indeed, the myths of a Fall may be exactly that: stories of a lapse from the daimonic Otherworld of imagination, symbolized by our Edens and Arcadias, into the cold grey world of facts. If there were no Fall, no lapse into literalism, soul would be everywhere manifest, as it was when God walked with Adam in the cool of the day. It would not be hidden, secret; a mystery. There would be no call for us to exert our imaginative powers of reflection, insight and mythologizing on which soul-making depends. It seems that we need that very literalism which, if it is not seen through, is so deadening. We have to acquire the 'double vision' without which there would be no art or religion worth the name because there would be no reality behind this one, no depth. We sense the presence of soul most, perhaps, whenever depth makes its appearance. (Harpur)

A broken god from a musty world
Sweetly mouthed touched an onyx girl
His prison bars were very hard to clean
Whatever happened to the Teenage Dream

 We can escape to the great sunshine
I know your wife, and she wouldn’t mind
We made it out to the Other Side

I fall asleep in an American flag
I wear my diamonds on skid row
I pledge allegiance to my dad
For teaching me everything he knows

The Wizard of Oz and the bronzen thief
But all was lost when her mouth turned green
Whatever happened to the Teenage Dream

Black Irony Prism

in candy phantasia hell (Life During Wartime)

The show ends when the audience storms the stage, dissolving
subject-object relationship (Male Gazes on Eidolon to Eikon of Ewige

Femme Fatale

Whenever we are bowled over by the dazzling girl we must possess at all costs, the anima is at work. . . . The anima is the personification of the unconscious, said Jung. She is also the mediatrix between consciousness and the unconscious. She is the 'feminine' side of the psyche. She is, we might say, the image of our souls within the world-soul. She is therefore paradoxical: as archetype she is the personification of the Soul of the World, but as archetypal image - the personal way she appears to us — she is the individual soul. We think of the ego, our sense of 'I', as giving us our identity. But really it is given to the ego by the anima. . . . Anima teaches the ego — teaches us — that we are human but with inhuman depths; that we are persons with impersonal underpinnings; and that we are composed of more than one personality despite what our egos, desperate for unity, tell us. . . .

The consummation of desire is what we spend most of our lives seeking. If we find it, it is fleeting and we long to recapture it. If we do not find it, we still try to recapture it because we have all seen the divine Forms, including the Form of Beauty, before birth. And so desire is nothing other than the unconscious longing for a return to that unutterable fulfilment. Desire itself is an expression of our mortality, our separation from the Ground of all Being to which we ache to return. Our separation brings suffering. We cannot stand the pain of unconsummated desire. It creates in us an emptiness, a void. We are tempted to fill it illegitimately. (The modern mystic Simone Weil puts it starkly: 'Ail sins are attempts to fill voids.') Desire, which is good, becomes degraded. In seeking to assuage our pain we distort infinite desire into that limitless craving which used to be called concupiscence. Its essence is to want pleasure and satisfaction through another - but not to want the other. The soul's yearning for the unattainable Beloved becomes the promiscuous person's attempt to leave soul out of sex altogether, and to substitute numerical quantity for the quality of intimacy and depth. . . . Women become an interchangeable set of parts, like the hardcore pornography which butchers the beauty of women down to anatomical detail. . . .

Spirit loves humanity but, unlike soul, is less interested in people. He is highminded and serious, looking down on soul's love of gossip, rumour and mythmaking. He is suspicious of appearances, disapproves of make-up and fancy hair-dos and smart shoes. He does not see that soul's gossip and chat is a concern with relationship and personal connections; her liking of personal adornment, an expression of her concern with Beauty, which spirit always tries to 'get behind', get to Truth. It is spirit which always postulates something 'higher' 'behind' the image, such as a noumenon behind a phenomenon, a god behind a daimon, or one God behind the gods. But soul says that this is not literally so. The sense of'behindness' is built into soul's vision, supplying her sense of dimension, mystery and depth. (Harpur)


Build the idol, and they will come

Below the Abyss, beastly effigies multiplying in unreason, Kalifornia
beach boys in a dream with the roar of a surf-tormented shore

Above the Abyss, tat tvam asi, Wide Awake

Rachel is revealed beauty, but this is an image that becomes real only
after first marrying Leah--"California Gurls" is Rachel bleeding (or
lactating, rather, after the manner of Kate's X-boxed tits) over
Laban-Snoop's candy-colored Teraphim, but only on the imaginal level of

Faking a fake

This is the reason they were called teraphim, from the verse 'For the teraphim have spoken vanity' [Zechariah 10:2], because they are the cause of man's departure from true happiness and his deviation toward imaginary happiness. This is why any worship of anyone besides God was forbidden, because unless there is fear of this [namely idolatry], there is no reason to prevent someone from [experiencing] its goodness. The witnesses to this [fact] are the cherubim, and the illuminated ones will contemplate it [the significance of the cherubim]." . . . Ibn Billya alluded to the affinity between the teraphim and the cherubim, among the most sacrosanct figures in ancient Judaism, which dwelled in the Holy of Holies. . . . the two cherubim that were part of the Holy of Holies, and the divine presence that dwelled between them and revealed herself therefrom, performed their role as a receptacle of the Shekhinah because of their anthropoid and metallic nature. However, immediately after quoting this text Ibn Zarza protests, exhorting God to safeguard someone from such a view. (Moshe Idel)

You think I'm pretty
Without any makeup on


Your face when sleeping is sublime
And then you open up your eyes

Then comes pancake factor number one
eyeliner, rose hips and lip gloss, such fun
You're a slick little girl

And all your makeup,
Just take it off.
I've got to find you
Before the line is lost.
. . .
They don't know what I know.
It's so little that we know,
But the cup it overflows.
Little boys with their porno,
This is their world, where can we go?

Thought you were praying to the resurrector
Turns out it was just a Reflektor (It’s just a Reflektor)

“What else does this craving, and this helplessness, proclaim but that there was once in man a true happiness, of which all that now remains is the empty print and trace?  This he tries in vain to fill with everything around him, seeking in things that are not there the help he cannot find in those that are, though none can help, since this infinite abyss can be filled only with an infinite and unchangeable object; in other words by God himself.” . . . "Many of us resemble the drug addict in our ineffectual efforts to fill the spiritual black hole… where we have lost touch with our souls, our spirit—with those sources of meaning and value that are not contingent or fleeting. Our consumerist, acquisition-, action-, and image-mad culture only serves to deepen the hole, leaving us emptier than before." ("Confronting the Void We Avoid")

Here's to the heroine
Who transcends all the men
who are locked inside the box
Will the lady let them out?
Oh, the heroine.
Strapped to the mast, the pale, ascendant heroine.

We are all just Prismers here, of our own device

I was standing beside you
By a frozen sea
Will you ever get free?
Just take all your pain
Just put it on me
So that you can breathe
. . .
I met you up upon a stage
Our love in a reflective age

Oh no, now you're gone

Hey, Eurydice!
Can you see me?
I will sing your name
'Til you're sick of me
Just wait until it's over
Just wait until it's through

Orpheus is the secret doctrine (Apollo) revealed through music (Calliope). Eurydice is humanity dead from the sting of the serpent of false knowledge and imprisoned in the underworld of ignorance. In this allegory Orpheus signifies theology, which wins her from the king of the dead but fails to accomplish her resurrection because it falsely estimates and mistrusts the innate understanding within the human soul. (Manly P. Hall, The Secret Teachings of All Ages)

Orpheus resurrects Eurydice as an Image in the field of media representation

But it is only his death that will bring her to life, as they are Bitter Rivals

Orpheus the Hierophant of the Mysteries is Ziggy Stardust the Leper Messiah singing Moonage Daydreams to girls in Labyrinths

Pope music from Orpheus' liar

The Great Beat says, "Let all the children boogie"

 The storyline is different according to which of these archetypal protagonists one identifies with:

Russell as the heroic son-lover flees from the harlot Mother Maya who put feeding the Fame Monster over feeding her Cats

The action begins when the hero feels the imperative to separate himself from his mother, cutting the ties to her apron strings and making his own way in the world. Typically he encounters obstacles and suffers ordeals. These he must overcome or endure, by guile or strength, in order to win the beautiful woman (usually a princess) with whom he has fallen in love. Jung described this motif in psychological terms. It is essential, he said, that the ego differentiates itself from the unconscious as the archetypal 'Mother', in order to be reunited with it as 'anima' at a higher level. In other words, just as in myth the hero is that offshoot of the gods who wants to break free of the gods, so the ego breaks free of the soul, its matrix, in order to reflect soul, to make its potential actual, and eventually to be reunited with the realized soul to form the totality of the self. . . . Like the hero, the ego is the indomitable 'spirit perspective' without whom we would remain in thrall to the perspective of the archetypal Mother. The heroic ego supplies our drive to activity and exploration; he gives us our feeling of strength, independence, willpower and our need to overcome challenges. The problems begin when these virtues become overweening, too 'masculine' and single-minded. The heroic ego begins to believe that he is not that child of soul launched outwards to experience the world and return, but wholly free of the soul as if he has escaped soul's gravity. He starts to believe that he is — the sin of hubris — not derived from the gods but self-derived. (Harpur)

Ace of Wands: Kether (Startpoint)

We jumped, never asking why

Tav (400) is the cosmic resistance acting in projection from Dallet (4) through Mem (40) and thus is the ultimate end or finality of all resistance and response. It is also the final Hebrew letter. It can be viewed as the receptacle or tabernacle of the life of Aleph ascending through all of the Autiot. Thus is is here that a rebound or ultimate opposition to Aleph is found by literally reflecting Aleph as would a perfect hard cosmic mirror. Thus it reflects an energy equal and opposite to Aleph and it's here that the two flows Aleph to Tav and Tav back to Aleph, always giving life when they are in balance, can be viewed as originating. (Suares, Spectrograms)


Cyrus the Great conquered Syria

The Shard says: "I just wanted you to let me in"
The Dark Crystal says: "Let the light in"

"Love is a Skinny Kid" vs. K-Pez's Pink Pillbox

According to Luria, the ten vessels that were originally meant to contain the emanation of God's light were unable to contain that light and were hence either displaced or shattered. As a result of this cosmic catastrophe, the Sefirot, the archetypal values through which the cosmos was created, are shattered and out of place, and the world within which we reside, is composed of the shards of the these broken values. . . . The vessels, as described by Luria's most important disciple, Chayyim Vital, are envisioned as being located in the womb of the feminine Partzuf, the Cosmic Mother, an expression of the age-old symbol of the feminine as "vessel", "receptacle" and "container". ("Shevirat ha-Kelim")

The Vessels cannot contain Miley's
light and thus they shatter; the Wrecking Ball

Miley's new image is a sort of mischievous nature spirit; i.e. a Nymphet

As mentioned in previous posts, Lolita as Nymphet Lalita/Lilith is
light trapped in shells, thus gyrating with fearsome men in a druggy
underworld and/or splintering wrecking ball pieces/kelipot

And Lalita says, This Art Murder is all just Play

The knife's silent shout is between #KatyCats and #LittleMonsters; the sounds of
Purgatory and the sounds of Hell; eating the lion or being eaten

When everyone on the planet finally hates Smiley Lilith and her audacious play with Samael, eyes will turn away from the unstoppable Meat Show; in the mean time, we seem to have to suffer with Hannah Montana

Zombie Jughead's false crown of Daath (Opinion over Platonic Truth)
brings Death; alive or dead, he will senselessly devour all Sarx

Our only Destiny Hope is in Veronica Kissing a Girl and producing
Fireworks, measured by the probability of the interaction between

Girls kissing girls violates the Taboo and ejects one from the faith-based orgy

Orange is the new Black

Note the two blonde-brunette lesbian girls in riff on Ingmar Bergman's Persona in "Unconditionally":

The phenomenal blonde speaks; the brunette says nothing

The revelation of Bergman's film, too, is that the brunette put fame before her children

Kali is Taboo and wags tongue w/Fallen Jimmy

Since she doesn't believe in "using blasphemy as entertainment,"
the Virgin Mary attire must be an entirely serious statement of

Images after an Image in the Romish Church

But if you call for me
This frozen sea
It melts beneath me
Just wait until it's over
Wait until it's through
. . .
He told you he'd wake you up
When it was over
. . .
Boy, they're gonna eat you alive (eat you alive)
But it's never gonna happen now
We'll figure it out somehow

Cause it's never over
It's never over (it's never over) [6x]

We stood beside
A frozen sea
I saw you out
In front of me
Reflected light
A hollow moon
Oh Orpheus, Eurydice
It's over too soon

Demiurge stole her Eikon and made its own version; of course the Original still makes better music

Orpheus melted the heart of Persephone, but I never had yours
I followed you back to the end of the path, but I never found the door
And you can work to save your love
You can bear it from the earth below
You can work, but you can't let go
Oh, oh, but you have to know

Don't look back
All you'll ever get is the dust from the steps before

I.e. Zooey says: When fleeing Sodom, Don't Look Back to the fleshpots of the World and have Eurydice be turned to Salt

"I used to get, 'I heard you were out at such-and-such club drinking whiskey!' [when] I was at home watching TV . . . It's sort of strange to be associated with someone that's doing such different stuff than me."

Zooey the New Girl lives in Apartment 4D; she sits at home and watches while her doppelgaenger goes and plays in Candyland, As Tears Go By--"I'm stronger than the pictures that you took before you left

Young Real Katy opposing her electronic media doppelgaenger in "Wide Awake" is
named Zoey . . . of course

Flashbulb Eyes

Mariah Carey is the voice of Top 40 pop music playing on the radio,
now breaking the inviolate subject-object divide around the King's

Obama = the beastly King's eye; her Dream is reflekted on the Videodrome Screen to be seen and heard by everyone (Mariah Carey being the quintessential Ubik female pop star), but not by choice, as the world falls down from quantum moment to quantum moment

The Oz Iris captures the image

on the Kalle/Kali TV show

The Moon is a mirror of the future

(As the world falls down)

The Fame Monster


Reformed with Beginningness as a moving image of eternity, as the falcon spirals:

Conventional perception is based on the division between a perceiving subject and its perceived objects. . . . Each moment of conception is an ocean of fragmentation that forces the mind to relate to phenomena in terms of differences. . . . The division between the self that knows and the object that is known is the basis of all conflict. Their confrontation produces a war that is fought to assert the vain myth of independent existence. Whatever the self takes as real is accepted and whatever falls outside of its grasp is rejected. The mind even fixates and reifies itself as an object (I can think about ‘me’). Thus we even enter into war with the idea of ourselves. This is what the mind does, which prevents any recognition of what the mind is. Because subject and object validate each other, ‘I think, therefore I am’ will immediately be followed by ‘what I experience is real because I have experienced it’. Here an important question can be asked: Is freedom from division possible? (David Chaim Smith, The Kabbalistic Mirror of Genesis)

When properly understood, B’reshit constitutes a direct assault on all conventional assumptions about the solidity of substance, the linear cohesiveness of time, and the integrity of thought. Conventional perception assumes that moments in time, appearances in space, and individual thoughts are separate, unrelated, random occurrences. The wisdom of B’reshit attacks this by asserting the changeless basis of continual change.

The primordial dynamism of B’reshit is evident in the relentlessness of perception. Considering the ‘texture’ of cognition is helpful in appreciating this. Ordinary perception is an ever-changing ocean of transformation. Waves of thought arise and fall back onto themselves, following an unquestioned and unexamined continuum. When an attempt is made to grasp a thought or feeling, the perceived moment and its contents immediately slips away into the next moment. The next moment always presents itself in a subtly different manner than the last. As this occurs, the moment that was originally sought has vanished before it could even be glimpsed. Neither the content nor context of any moment of perception is the fortress of security that it is assumed to be. The artifice of perception erodes on contact with any attempt to investigate it. The only conclusion that can be made is that the unfolding of perceptual events is not a static parade of frozen moments to be grasped at one by one, it is a constant, uncatchable and elusive barrage.

Exoteric religion interprets the Bible’s first word as an indication of creation ‘ex nihilo’. In the proto-historical mythology a distinction is made between ‘before’ and ‘after’ creation. In the mystical sense, this separation is nullified by the equalizing nature of Divinity, which goes beyond all distinctions. It is asserted by the essential nature of B’reshit, which equalizes all divisions with the wisdom of pure creativity. The wisdom of B’reshit is a ‘Beginningness’ that cannot be experienced or known in any conventional sense. Ordinary perception cannot comprehend its own nature. This would be like trying to see your own face without a mirror. B’reshit is not a concept about wisdom that confronts the mind like a visitor, it is the mirror of the mind itself and reflects whatever habits and tendencies the mind clings to. However B’reshit is beyond all habits - it is the open reflectivity of the mirror that can reflect anything. It is equal before birth and after death, it is beyond change, but is the basis of all change. It is the common basis of what is known as well as that which knows it. Realization of this simultaneity is gnosis (mystical realization).

The wisdom of B’reshit continually explodes into phenomenal play. It is always arising and dissolving, beyond grasp, never static, insubstantial yet vivid. (Ibid.)

Nine drummers

The Korybantes (/ˌkɒr.ɪˈbænt.iːz/; Ancient Greek: Κορύβαντες) were the armed and crested dancers who worshipped the Phrygian goddess Cybele with drumming and dancing. They are also called the Kurbantes in Phrygia, and Corybants in an older English transcription. The Kuretes were the nine dancers who venerate Rhea, the Cretan counterpart of Cybele, Mother of the Gods. . . . These armored male dancers kept time to a drum and the rhythmic stamping of their feet. ("Korybantes")

"Some scholars classify maypoles as symbols of the world axis (axis mundi)."

The Stone fallen from Cloud 9

The Goddess Rhea . . . is 'the stable and united cause of all intellectuals, and the principle and original monad, abiding in herself, unfolding into light all intellectual multitude, and again convolving it into herself and embosoming her progeny' (Ioc. cit., xi). . . . Proclus (in Tim., p. 4), informs us that Nature is the last of the demiurgic causes of the Sensible World; that is to say, he speaks of invisible Nature, or the subtle or psychic body of the gross envelope of the World. This Body is full of productive forms and forces, through which all mundane existences are governed. She proceeds from the vivific Goddess Rhea. Through her ‘the most inanimate beings participate of a certain soul'. Thus in the Xth Hymn, Orpheus speaks of her 'turning the swift traces of her feet with a swift whirling'. . . . 'That one of the conceptions which we form of Nature is, that it is the character of everything, and that in consequence of this, we employ the name of it in all things, and do not refuse to say the nature of souls, of intellect, and even of deity itself.' . . . Plato in Cratylus mystically connects her name (Rhea) with the idea of 'flowing' (from (ῥέω – 'to flow'), meaning thereby simply 'that fontal power by which she contains in transcendent union the divisible rivers of life'. Rhea, is, therefore, the 'mother of lives', the mystical Eve, the 'mother of all living'. . . .

Now Rhea . . . is called 'brass-sounding' and 'drum-beating'. . . . Iamblichus (De Mysteriis, III. ix) goes into the matter of the so-called Corybantic and Bacchic 'frenzies' produced by musical instruments in the Mysteries of Ceres and Bacchus . . . Music and Mantras, therefore, were used by the Orphics to attract, or call down, the influence of the Mother of the Gods, who at the same time was the 'Store-house of Life', of Divine Nature. Thus Proclus in his Commentary on Euclid (ii) tells us that 'the Pole of the World is called by the Pythagoreans the Seal of Rhea' . . . .

Damascius, On First Principles, writes: 'The ogdoad pertains to Rhea, as being set in motion [remember the idea of “flowing” contained in the name] towards everything according to its differentiation, and yet nevertheless remaining firmly and cubically established.'

Taylor explains this by saying (Ioc. cit.): 'Damascius uses the word “cubically”, because eight is a cubic number. Rhea, therefore, considered as firmly establishing her off-spring Jupiter in Saturn, who exists in unproceeding union, is fabulously said to have given Saturn a stone instead of Jupiter . . . . Another interesting explanation of this famous 'stone' is that it means the 'discus', that is to say, the Svastika, which is the glyph of the fourfold creative forces of the universe. . . .

But the most stupendous thought of all is, that all this multiplicity is, after all, One Deity; emanating, evolving, converting and reabsorbing itself; creating and preserving, destroying and regenerating itself; the Self, by itself, knowing itself, and separating from itself, and transcending itself. (G.R.S. Mead, Orpheus)

Step through the mirror into the Underground, Orpheus

It's all in her mind

Stephanie says that she wants to know
Why it is thought she's the door She can't be the room

She asks you is it good or bad
It's such an icy feeling it's so cold in Al-Aqsa

The Veil (Πέπλοϛ): in the public processions of the Panathenaea this famous mystic Veil or Web (cf. no.9) was borne aloft like the sail of a galley, but this was only the symbol. Mystically it signified the Veil of the Universe studded with stars, the many-coloured Veil of Nature . . . This was the famous Veil of Isis, that no 'mortal' had raised, for that Veil was the Spiritual Vesture of the man himself, and to raise it he had to transcend the limits of individuality, break the bonds of death, and so become immortal. . . . Aristotle, quoting the Orphic writings, speaks of the 'animal born in the webs of the net' . . . 'Homer calls Nature a woman, weaving a web with purple threads (our bodies with crimson fluids [lit. blood]), or a marble loom (our bones).' . . . But all these are only the lower correspondences of the real Web of Destiny, which resides in the spiritual nature itself. (Mead)

Do you wanna see the girl who lives behind the aura, behind the aura?
Do you wanna touch me, cosmic lover?
Do you wanna peek underneath the cover?
Do you wanna see the girl who lives behind the aura
Behind the aura, behind the aura, behind the aura?

Enigma popstar is fun, she wear burqa for fashion

Régine the Reflektor indie enigma Eurydice In the Backseat

She could be a Joan of Arc
But he's scared of the light that's inside of her
So he keeps her in the dark

Oh, she used to be a pearl...Ohh
Yeah, she used to rule the world...Ohh
Can't believe she's become a shell of herself
'Cause she used to be a pearl

She was unstoppable
Moved fast just like an avalanche
But now she's stuck deep in cement
Wishing that they'd never ever met
. . .
Yeah, I let him rule my world

The soul enters a profound darkness from which only the grace of God can deliver it. . . . Soul is expressed in metaphors of descent, depth and darkness. She favours the Underworld and the circuitous route. She is not transcendent but immanent, lying hidden within the world. Slowly, meanderingly, she follows the downward spiral of imagination towards its dark wisdom. She prefers the twilight to the light, where things mingle and worlds intersect. . . . She savours death, whose bitterness is an initiation; spirit leaps over death and its darkness to emphasize the light of rebirth. (Harpur)

Night, then, is the Mother of the Gods, or, as Orpheus says, 'the Nurse of the Gods is immortal Night' . . . To her was given the highest art of divination, for Mâyâ is the creative power of the Deity, the means whereby he 'imagines' the universe, or thinks it into being. . . . Night (the occult power of Deity) gives birth to the noumenal and phenomenal universes; in the words of Orpheus (Hermias, ibid.): 'And so she brought forth Earth [the phenomenal universe] and wide Heaven [the noumenal], so as to manifest visible from invisible'. (Mead)

If you're looking for hell, 
Just try looking inside 

And the tigers make another appearance

Rhea was also called Brimô by the Phrygians, and her son (Zeus) was called Brimos. This in the macrocosm; in the microcosm Rhea was the Spiritual Soul (Buddhi) which gave birth to the Human Soul (Manas). . . . “Our Lady hath borne a sacred son, Brimô [hath given birth to] Brimos” — that is to say, the strong to the strong. Our Lady (he says) is the spiritual generation, the celestial, the above; and the “strong” he who is born'. . . . Dionysus was fed on lion's milk. Further, Herodotus (V.92.) mentions an oracle which declares, 'an eagle lays her egg on the rocks and gives birth to a lion', and Aristophanes, who frequently ventured to jest concerning the Mysteries, says (Eqq., 1037), 'There is a woman who shall give birth to a lion in Holy Athens'. (Mead)

Catwoman in a Misérable dream

Life of Pi 22/7 = the missing puzzle piece and the Tzimtzum division (box cutting)
Pi Patel is the tiger adrift on Katy's salty tears

You brought me to life
Now every February
You'll be my Valentine, Valentine


Phenomenal destruction in the Judas mystery is the slaying of rational math teacher Michael Landsberry (and Jesse Ventura lookalike) wearing Katy's old baby blue wig (the fox says, "chaos reigns")

Landsberry Fields Forever


"Boy, 14, 'hid out in high school before slashing teacher, 24, to death with box cutter stolen from art class' . . . she was remembered as a 'brilliant ray of light'"

P. Chism is the Daath Prism that splinters the (Lana Del/Carly/Miley) Ray of Light into the varicolored spectrum below the abyss to create ARTpop-Murder (a beautiful picture that requires torturing the [Elisa] Lamb, as Philip Dick says)

Boxcutters recall the original act of Terra Terror

Nobody cares; let's go see a movie and forget

"In a bizarre twist, WCVB-TV today reported that after the gruesome killing, Chism walked to Hollywood Hits theaters in Danvers and watched Woody Allen's latest film Blue Jasmine - a movie about a middle-aged woman's mental breakdown."

The blonde in a phenomenal wig has a mental breakdown and returns to her brunette sister in Crowley Corners (the Lovers, or two sisters)

Queens of the Sparks (in the) Middle School: Cheerleaders dancing on the sidelines, in the stands; teacher singing "there's a Spark in you" but unheard

Dead / alive Schroedinger's Cat as Hollywood Bowl images replace Vera
Icona; 2 Peter 1:19 (119 tear) teaches until the daystar arise,

The killer was a "storybook kid"; the Monomyth has teeth

Zooey Deschanel is teaching "Eye of the Tiger" on bells to a group of
high school kids to boost their self-esteem . . .

Killed in the bathroom (lake)--"The body of the teacher, identified as

No help for the Widow's son

She divided the Hot (Muslims) from the Cold (Christians) according to who knew Mahomet's mother and who did not, and slew appropriately

White Widow Mall attack ends on the 24th; Killer Queen
Katy appears on the 25th, rocking the Eva Braun couture in Nutzi
Land--Berlin is "like a Mecca," she says--Black Suns turning in the

SChisms in the Chvrches

I am gonna break you down
To tiny, tiny parts
I never believed, but I see it now
I'm learning your lesson, I’m learning your lesson

Did it make you feel so clever
Did you wear it on your sleeve
Did you see another picture
Where I was not a part so far entwined

There's no other way
Never run far
Take a good swing at me
And everything is even
So finally, we agree
No place for promises here
You better run, you better run so
Hide, hide, I have burned your bridges
I will be a gun
And it's you I'll come for
I, I, have never felt so easy
I will be a gun, and it's you I'll come for

Who are you to tell me how
To keep myself afloat
I tread the water all the while
You stuck in the knife
That you held at my back

Nature was only the first casualty of the rational ego. It was followed by all the other manifestations of soul: imagination was downgraded to fantasy, the province of women and children, whose status was equally reduced; and the past was no longer a perfect state we had descended from, but a dark superstitious place we must transcend. Eventually soul itself was looked upon as a fantasy or illusion. If spirit is always striving to break free of soul, the rational modern ego is precisely the delusion that it has succeeded. . . . Just as soul banished from the world returns as a threatening goddess, so soul banished from the mind returns as a hostile unconscious, nagging us with neurotic symptoms or ravaging us with madness. And the more the ego insists that consciousness only resides with him, that only he lives in the light, the more distorted and threatening the unconscious seems. From soul's point of view, she has been banished from Nature, which is now soulless machinery. She has no choice but to take refuge within the human psyche. But she also fails in this because she is excluded by the narrow, brilliant spotlight of consciousness which casts everything else into shadow. She is compelled to hide behind consciousness — in the unconscious. Except that she does not so much fill the unconscious as form it. The unconscious is the product of the rational ego which cast the soul into darkness. . . . Soul will not abide neglect. If we want to avoid the poison shirt, we must attend closely to all the images in which she appears to us, no matter how apparently inferior or insignificant, repellent or frightening. Only by talking to soul, and listening, can we know ourselves. If our puffed-up egos ignore her, we will lose her - not really, for soul cannot finally be lost. She is the Ground of all Being. But we can temporarily drive her away and stalk the Earth as disconnected empty shells, like zombies. (Harpur)

The White Widow is alias Natalie Faye Webb--Kiss of the Spider Woman

Once upon a time, on a tropical island far away, there lived a strange woman. She wore a long gown of black lamé that fit her like a glove. But the poor thing, she was caught in a giant spider web that grew out of her own body. One day a shipwrecked man drifted onto the beach. She fed him and cared for his wounds. She nourished him with love and brought him back to life. When he awoke, he gazed up at the spider-woman and saw a perfect tear-drop slide from under her mask. Why is she crying? (Kiss of the Spider Woman)

Walking on Pneuma

The Spider Woman (or her Eidolon) makes propaganda for the Nazis (not
sees), but is the same woman who brings Raul Julia back to life after
another manner; William Hurt the gallus knows to identify with the
Heroine in the moving pictures

Kotze syncs Katy's Ingsoc machine music (born 1984) shooting Sparks in the Middle with Natalie Portman while Russell Brand (guy faux) sings "VVVVV"

The Huntsman, Snow White, the Winged Beetle, and the Queen

Take me down to the river
Underneath the blood orange sun
Say my name like a scripture

"As was tradition among all the great families at the time, Aminah sent Muhammad into the desert as a baby. The belief was that in the desert, one would learn self-discipline, nobility, and freedom."

40 in desert trial from Aminah/Animah

Mohammed's Mother = the Magna Mater veiled, the Black Stone Kaaba of Mecca at the center of things; those who already know her darkness may live apart from the Smiley Milieu

World War Z in the shopping mall Candyland consumerist paradise = Dawn of the Dead

Night of the Living Dead = Aurora (Dawn) where Barbara "They're Coming to Get You" Gordon gets snuffed by the Joker King

Lana Del "Rhea" in the white dress as Paradise perdita Rides the chariot
between her two lions (that Metaphysics degree at work)


Divinely honor'd, and regard my pray'r:
Thron'd on a car, by lions drawn along,
By bull-destroying lions, swift and strong,
Thou sway'st the sceptre of the pole divine,
And the world's middle seat, much-fam'd, is thine.


lowly guest decked in Bull Minotaur costume, a pole-dancing prisoner
of Hades (= Dark Pop); Katy's track with Juicy J "Dark Horse" reduces
him to the role of lowly supplicant--she has seduced the Beast
(Beetlejuicy) and he has willingly come to her bed

I knew you were
You were gonna come to me
And here you are

But you better choose carefully
’Cause I’m capable of anything
Of anything and everything

Make me your Aphrodite
Make me your one and only
Don’t make me your enemy, your enemy, your enemy

So you wanna play with magic
Boy, you should know what you're falling for
Baby do you dare to do this
Cause I’m coming at you like a dark horse
Are you ready for, ready for
A perfect storm, perfect storm

Cause once you’re mine, once you’re mine
There’s no going back
. . .
She’s a beast
I call her Karma
. . .

She swears by it but if you break her heart
She turn cold as a freezer

That fairy tale ending with a knight in shining armor
She can be my Sleeping Beauty
. . .

Her love is like a drug
I was tryna hit it and quit it
But lil' mama so dope
I messed around and got addicted

After a hurricane comes a rainbow

Divorce = "hey Judas," be a pal and nail Orpheus to the
cross and have the Beetles goad the Sun through the Velvet Underground

The natural way to enter Hades is to die. But you do not necessarily have to die literally. You may, like Orpheus - like all shamans — die metaphorically. This means the death of the ego and its literalistic perspective in order that the daimonic, imaginative self can come into being. This death is the kind experienced during the rites of passage . . . It is called initiation. . . .  It is an axiom for all religions that to understand reality, arrive at Heaven or achieve bliss we must die and be reborn. That is, we must 'die to ourselves' and be reborn as new selves. This metaphorical death takes precedence over literal death. It is the death of the ego in order that the self may come into being. (Harpur)

We'll meet again, In Another Life


  1. ON TOUR...

    (don't forget to read the rider)

  2. the black stone hidden I cant tell if you possess me or I possess you.

    Yesterday in the lens of the Saturn mask of 119/191/911


    Watched V last night in memorium and caught a sign in a protest scene, our lady of raindrops reflecting on her parents, the sign was ALP.

    You see the Korebanterers now as I do ... the drum beat and the morsel are one as TOPHET.

    All the Norsefire one could ever want to see is on the same table as the morsel.

    Last piece in the Tophet string is called "Love is the beat of Tophets drum", at bottom of piece is string of comments. I noted Kotharat and the how the lion rampant becomes all off the "to the fairest of them all"

    Scribble in the diary of Attis!

  3. Once I even inferred the whole in nutshell .. no one, except Nemo and Charlie Manson .. cared.

    The chant of the banterers will ever be "the morsel, the morsel, the morsel, ad infinitum" it cannot be any other way. The river of chicken ALP, thanks to the Colonel and Company, cannot be but "A-L-P" or "potential energy - being goaded - to mouths".

    Chapter 11 of the book written by QRST makes this most plain, K = 11 = the Sun. Light becomes all things at the event horizon, she as Adamah consumes. Only slivers make it back to the light, only other slivers out of these even higher. As Lord QRST says only the Pandavas, ie the Magicians of 2-20-200, make it out of the lower field of Adamah alive.

  4. One out of a thousand, ten out of ten thousand

    The Queen of Dis unfolding the light; counting the number of drums was a further revelation

    Sinead vs. Miley = Natalie of Vendetta with shaved head vs. the Empire's kelipot blonde

    Miley counters, You're crazy, let's party in the Tik Tok Time Square--"I don't know. Are we supposed to kiss?"

    The "fairest of them all" heroine doesn't want anyone to look upon her; it is the Empire that broadcasts her hunger to the world

    Everything goaded to her mouth

    New CHVRCHES: I can sell you lies and feed your dirty mind in the Videodrome

    New Lana is just a little tease: Eurydice Resurrexit praying to Idol Johnny

  5. james: "she has seduced the Beast (Beetlejuicy) and he has willingly come to her bed" = Beeber (Orpheus) in the Brazilian Centaur brothel (from the Daily Beast)

    Video !

    At the same time Katy as Twittering Queen trounced Justin; she doesn't want to be One of the Boys (Take a Walk on the Wild Side, says Cybele to potential galloi)

    "Praise her eternal light"

  6. Always a Lolitaesq adventure. Dreamy and noir. Dennis

  7. Thank you, Dennis

    The Medium's Message is persistent; she loves her cats Unconditionally, but this leaves her open to media manipulation (I stood for nothing, so I fell for everything)

    L'inference: Support Our Troops

    Naomi "Wolfmother" suckling the twins of Rome (two beasts); the monster is in the mirror

    Eat the Popchips or choke on Pop Rocks in Popeye's

    I wish I could eat your cancer when you turn black

    1. Katy as Pippa Middleton is Peter's pied piper (note the emblem of his global ministry)

      Dear God, I'm a good Christian man

    2. Out walking today (11/9/13) -

      (flow | wolf)

      previously -

  8. Right on schedule: Don't look back, or "You have to eat dust"

    Typhon in the Philippines (Dark Horselover Fat), also on schedule

    Go with the flow (of Rhea)

    Eurydice currently in Brazil touring Paradise

    Twilight Coal Man noticed Hekate's lions, dimly

    1. "At least 10,000 people are thought to have died in the central Philippine province of Leyte after Typhoon Haiyan, one of the strongest storms ever to make landfall, lashed the area, swallowing coastal towns, a senior police official said early on Sunday morning."

      Ten out of ten thousand

      "The wise virgins are there to welcome him and the foolish ones arrive too late and are excluded."

      Repent, Echidna (Melancholia is coming)

      "So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth."


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