These Days

Before I begin this evening's blog post, here is a quick announcement:

I am selling some things on Craigslist. Yes, I used eBay like everyone else, but lately selling there has been a no-go, and it costs me a lot of money. These items are cheap enough to not be worth putting on eBay, so I have them listed here, if any of them strike your fancy.
Also--you can respond to that post if you're an Edward Gorey collector--I can contact you about some Edward Gorey first editions I'm looking to sell.

Normally, I would not do such shameless hawking on my blog. But I am beyond broke at the moment, so I'm taking any outlet available to me. Forgive me.

OK, now back to our regularly scheduled programming...

Mornings are a conflicted time. I wake up at 3:00 in the morning. My body's cortisol levels are not playing a cruel prank on me; I really have to get up at 3:00 in the morning, or 3:30 at the latest. I must leave by 5:00 to get to work, so I can record my Winter session lectures before my day starts. Recording later in the day won't work; I have too many interruptions, too many people are around.

Staggering and exhausted, my brain tries to compensate by chattering away at approximately 100 miles per hour about everything and nothing. This is not good, because I like to meditate first thing in the morning, and the worst thing for meditation is a chatty mind. Still, I slog through my morning routine of showering, getting dressed, meditating, feeding the cats, getting together the things I will need for work, and having breakfast. I need to make an effort to remember what day it is, so that I put out garbage or recycling on the appropriate day. After putting some tea in a travel mug and heading out to my car, I start the long trek to work. It's no wonder I'm dazed by the time I get there. I feel like I've done a day's worth of work already.

Each day is a new battle. My job isn't stressful, but I can be presented with unexpected projects or problems. If I had a different agenda in mind for the day, it usually ends up being shot. But that's a metaphor for life, isn't it? Some days I enjoy socializing with my co-workers, on others I just want to lock the office doors and focus on my work. This is not a reflection on my co-workers; on the whole, I work in a reasonably sane office, spiced up with some quirkiness here and there. And it isn't fatal.

One of my colleagues had a birthday today, so we all went to the student cafeteria for lunch. It's a flat $7.25 to get in (birthday people excepted--they eat for free), and I'm not sure the price is worth it. Still, we don't go to lunch together that often, and after some initial logistical confusion, it ended up being a nice group conversation. And I had afternoon coffee to boot. Just what I needed for a brain already in overdrive.

I received an e-mail from the University of Reading (UK) asking me to join their online alumni community. The registration page gave me a start. Under the drop-down menu for "Title", you expect to see 4 things--Mr., Miss, Ms., and Mrs. On this list, there were about 50 appellations. I am not exaggerating. I debated choosing "Air Commander" or "Squadron Leader", or perhaps sticking an "HRH" before my name just for fun. I have never seen such a list in my life. I was tempted to write and tell them that they forgot "Smt." (Srimata, the Hindu term for "Mrs."). Unless that's what "Smr" meant. If it means anything else, I couldn't tell you. One of the choices was "The". Just "The". "The Brigid Burke". As opposed to The Imposter Pretending To Be Brigid Burke, I guess...

I drove home in a zombified state this afternoon, probably from too much caffeine. This is good, because I'm less aware of irritating drivers around me, and I care less when someone tailgates me or cuts me off in traffic. Arriving at home, I note the 10,000,000 leaves in the yard that will require another 3 to 4 hours of labor to pick up. Mind you, I've picked up leaves almost every weekend since the beginning of September. It's a losing battle, like every other practical task in my life. I feel like Sisyphus. I open the mailbox, and find an advertisement for the Wall Street Journal. Just what I need--more Rupert Murdoch-influenced media. I toss the ad straight into the recycling bin, with the rest of the mail.

Evening arrives quickly now, and I am teetering on the edge of energetic productivity and the desire to sink into the futon with a glass of wine, watching re-runs of Ghost Hunters, or an old movie. Or reading my book. I am reading "The Elegance of the Hedgehog" by Muriel Barbery, which was deserving of its place on the New York Times bestseller list. It is such a good book that it commands full attention and awareness, so it might not be a good idea to pick it up after work, when I am on a downward awareness spiral, heading towards sleepy-land. I hear a mooing sound in the living room; the cat, sitting inside his hooded, wool-lined bed, has reached out a lazy paw for a nearby cow-shaped cat toy that makes mooing sounds. He is ridiculously cute as he curls up to sleep in his bed with the toy between his paws.

Soon I will curl up in my own bed. I do have to get up at 3:00 in the morning, after all...

The Common Denominator

I visited my parents after work this week. I usually have a rather busy life, and don't get to stop by that often. On this particular day, I needed to borrow my father's VHS to DVD converter; I have a few VHS tapes that I like to re-watch that my VCR has suddenly decided it doesn't like. So, I made DVD copies.

My Dad is technologically hip in some ways. When it comes to visual media, he likes to have all of the new toys--except for things that have to be done on a computer. He bought this particular converter a few years ago, but almost never uses it. This is because he doesn't understand the difference between DVD-R/DVD-RW and DVD+R/DVD+RW. I can hardly blame him; when you look at the specs, your eyes drift to the letters, not the punctuation. Why would you think those were meaningful? Isn't a recordable DVD a recordable DVD? Sadly no; society has adopted Crowley's view that "standardisation is the bane of civilization". This is one area where that shouldn't be true. But this is all a digression.

While I was dubbing my tapes, my father went into the main living room to watch TV. It was time for Glenn Beck, and today, Glenn was going to talk about socialists using funny voices and hand puppets. I know that the recent Bill Maher piece criticizing the Rally to Restore Sanity is controversial, but Bill noted that Glenn Beck is "close to eating his own poop". I don't think this is an exaggeration.

Glenn Beck and everything else on Fox News is just one of several "obstacles to communication" that I face when I'm trying to visit with my family. Generally what happens is this: I sit talking to my mother who tells me everything she's worried about. My father sits in another room watching TV and shouting 4-letter insults at any Democrats that flash across the screen. When he finally comes out to dinner, conversation can be rather tense depending on the chosen topic. My mother likes to argue with him about politics, which is kind of a no-win venture.

There's also the go-round they have when she's asked him to do something. For instance: She'll leave him a note to make a doctor's appointment while she's at work. She'll ask if he made the appointment. My father will casually peruse the newspaper, and without looking at her, say "What appointment?" My mother, looking frustrated, will say, "The DOCTOR's appointment. I left you a note to call this morning!" My father will reply, "I don't remember any note." This will go around and around until my mother looks like she is going to blow a major artery, and my father finally decides to mention that yes, he made the appointment first thing when he got up. He is actually being funny, but she doesn't get it. Sometimes I take pity and let her in on the joke before she gets too worked up. The final obstacle usually revolves around family issues; usually my Dad and I agree on certain issues, and my Mom does not agree with either of us. The conversations always leave me uncomfortable and at odds with someone, and all I can think is "Can't we all just get along?" If our discussions were fruitful and thoughtful debates, that would be a different story. Instead, they're usually exercises in stubbornness.

This is where humor comes in. You may have noticed over the years that I can be rather "flip" about some things, and tend to make a joke out of others. This is not by accident. This is survival. A means of saying, "Hey guys, we're never going to agree, and we need to stop making this so deadly serious and depressing." Besides joking around and changing the subject, I will also bring strategic media with me if I'm visiting my parents for an extended time (e.g., for an entire evening). "Strategic media", of course, is usually DVDs of TV shows or movies that I know will keep my parents from talking about depressing things, and probably will make them laugh as well.

Here are some clips that have averted family discord. If you have similar family issues, maybe you can use these as well. Some of them may be more "Christmas-y", because that's usually the time of year that I wind up spending more time with them.

1. Mystery Science Theater 3000. Almost any of the movies will do, but the black-and-white ones are best. If you don't have time for a movie, the shorts are a good choice:






2. Found Footage Festival--any of the volumes will do, but to avoid awkwardness, keep the remote handy for such clips as "Disrobics" and "Venus II", so you can fast forward. Nothing more awkward than watching obviously sexual things with your parents. Even that last sentence makes me feel awkward. Found Footage Festival is a collection of "found" VHS tapes that are so awful, they're good:




Drop dead, in the name of Jesus Christ

3. Rich Little's A Christmas Carol--this one is only good at the Christmas holiday, obviously. I happen to own a copy--it's very hard to get these days. Rich Little is a comedian whose entire act revolves around impersonations. The people in my age group are probably the last ones who could watch this and have any idea about who the heck he is impersonating--anyone born later than 1975 is likely to be stumped. But my parents know exactly what he's about, and they find it funny.

Rich Little's Christmas Carol [VHS]


4. Not Necessarily the News--I've only found this recently on YouTube, and only certain clips. We all remember this show, and strangely enough, my father loves it, even though they spend a lot of time making fun of his favorite President, Ronald Reagan. Personally, I wish they would make an entire tape of Rich Hall's "Sniglets" segments. Those are still my favorite, and not available anywhere.

Best of Not Necessarily the News Part 1 of 6 (embedding disabled)

5. Saturday Night Live--this is one of those shows that was great when it first came out, but declined in quality over the years. Still, there are some classic pieces worthy of trying to find either on Google Video or by sifting through DVD compilations. Here is a Christmas one from Robert Smiegel's TV Funhouse animation clips:

TV Funhouse Peanuts (embedding doesn't work)


You might be surprised at some of the irreverent religious videos. But both of my parents are critical of religion, so this isn't a problem. However, if my aunts and uncles are visiting, that presents a different problem altogether...

Happy daylight savings time, and tell someone to turn on the lights...it's too dark in here for November.

Subject/Object (The Art of Negotiation)

I present to you two scenarios:

The first: my mother is concerned about another member of our family that she very much needs to talk to about a private matter. This person rarely calls or answers the phone, so my mother had sent a letter. This is all well and good, except that she didn't entirely stay on topic--she told me that she'd sent along books on managing diabetes (this person is diabetic), and other reading material for "improvement".

The second: This one is very familiar to Americans. The missionary who knocks on the door--whether they be Mormons, Jehovah's Witnesses, or some other group seeking to point out the error of your ways and "save" you, usually in the name of Jesus Christ.

It occurred to me that these scenarios have the following things in common:

1. An individual who reaches out to someone else in a caring attempt at communication.

2. An utter failure because they are objectifying the other person.

Let me see if I can explain. In both cases, the individuals reaching out (my Mom, the missionaries), are often doing so out of genuine caring. My mother genuinely cares about this person's health and well-being. The missionary often really believes what they are saying, and are also genuinely concerned. However, in both cases, they are approaching their subject by pointing out how they are wrong and how they must change. It doesn't matter whether the person is really wrong or not. What would you do if someone tried to tell you how you were wrong? Most likely, you would be on the defensive--you would either tell them to mind their own business, or dismiss them entirely and walk away with no response. Such an approach does not open up dialogue. It ends up coming across as demeaning or accusatory.

My mother does this kind of thing, and from what I hear from other friends, she is not alone in this "motherly" trait. About 15 years ago I had gained a fair amount of weight. Every time I saw my mother, she would eyeball me with this worried look, and shake her head. She would bring me a copy of a new diet she'd found in some health magazine or book. She was doing it "because she cared". However, when she did this, that was not the message I got. The message I got was, "you think I'm ugly and malformed--and obviously stupid". Yes, I know--she was not saying that at all. But that's how such gestures come across.

Returning to the second scenario--famous occult author Lon Milo DuQuette created a great little piece of animation about such a scenario. In this video, the character being preached at (presumably representing Lon) doesn't walk away, but explains to the proselytizer why they are offensive. And he says it very well, so I'll just let you watch it:

 


This brings me to the fine art of negotiation. Back in the day, I was a co-shop steward for a union, and occasionally had to negotiate gripes and grievances on behalf of employees with management. I knew the management of the place well--some were caring, some were not, but in general, if they could get away with avoiding things like raises and promotions, they would do it. Sometimes there was nothing you could do; they were within their rights as employers. Other times it was questionable. The stiffed employees were understandably angry.

I successfully negotiated a couple of these situations, and I would have gotten nowhere if I'd used the approaches in either of the above scenarios. If I had walked into administration and insinuated that they were trying to cheat the employee, I would have had the door slammed in my face. Even if my statement had been true, you don't ever negotiate by putting management on the defensive. Instead, my approach was to tell the administrator that I was there on behalf of the union, and that someone came to me with a problem. I assumed that the employee must be missing some piece of information, and I would appreciate if they could explain the situation to me, so that I could explain it to the employee. This approach works 99% of the time.

This works because it does 3 things--1. it validates the person you are talking to as an intelligent, thinking subject, 2. it doesn't dismiss or invalidate the claim of the griever--it assumes instead a miscommunication that needs clearing, and 3. it gives the employer an "out" if they have really done something wrong. In at least one case, they said, "let me look everything over, and let you know." Sure enough, they claimed an "oversight", and said they would fix it immediately. I wasn't so sure it really was an oversight, but I was not going to press that issue--the employee had finally gotten what they needed, and the employer saved face. If you're bent on getting revenge or making them look stupid, you will probably lose everything.

This is not about being a flatterer or being dishonest. No matter how flawed you think someone else is, chances are they think they are just fine. Employers are no different. You won't win if you set out to invalidate someone else's point of view. A lot of people have forgotten about this--particularly TV news analysts and most of Congress. How do you find common working ground with someone you're treating like an idiot--an idiot because they won't see things your way?

Because let's face it--no one is "perfect", everyone makes mistakes--and sometimes, it's not a mistake, simply a life choice or worldview that we can't understand because we wouldn't choose it for ourselves. If you spend your time judgmentally telling people what's "wrong" with them and how they should fix themselves when that input was not solicited, you're going to have a lot of trouble being taken seriously. And you probably won't have a lot of friends. Families are a bit different; mothers often see this kind of lecturing as their appropriate role. But it doesn't change the fact that people will be defensive if you approach them critically.

Should

I don't know about you, but I was raised with certain expectations. Causes and effects. If you work hard, you'll be rewarded and successful. Honesty is always the best policy. Love always wins out over hate. The bad guys never win, crime doesn't pay. Etc., etc. You know the drill.

So what really happens? Sometimes these things are true, but just as often (if not more often) they are not. Hard work is rewarded with more work and no more pay, while those who don't work seem to reap more rewards. Bullshit and manipulation mean more than honesty if you want to get ahead. Love? What is that? And as for crime--well, refer back to the second item in this list.

This is a rare election year in the United States. I'm used to choosing between bad and worse. I'm not used to choosing between craven cowardice and bat-shit insanity. Outside of politics, human civility seems to be at an all-time low, and forget economics--the more you try to pay debts, the more companies try to milk you for more money, as though you're being penalized for trying to pay.

There's a lot that doesn't match up with everything I've learned. When I'm under a lot of stress, I find I have no patience for the disrespectful and clueless behaviors of others. And it seems to be getting worse, not better. After an evening thinking about this, I realized where the problem lies. It lies in "shoulds".

If you revisit the first sentence of this posting, you'll see a lot of "shoulds". This is the way the world "should" operate. Well, back up a second--in whose worldview? Well, mine obviously, and perhaps my family's, and perhaps the community I grew up in. I think if you ask most people, they will agree with many of those mentioned tenets. But their interpretation of them will be very different, depending on their worldview. And that's only the tip of the iceberg.

One of the things usually taught in a liberal arts education is some kind of philosophy course--something in logic, and perhaps also ethics. There is a myth that reason and logic are the critical ideals, that humans use these tools to make the best decisions. Even if that is true--well, it isn't true. I'm not suggesting that logic and reason should be discarded--they are hugely important, especially when trying to make decisions that affect many people with different worldviews. What I'm saying is that logic and reason do not make the world go round.

Humans are complex creatures; our psychology is baffling. I'm not even including religion in this, as I think it's more of a scapegoat than the real problem. Religion is a means of negotiating the unknown. It is true that doctrines and dogmas handed down by religious authorities can lead to certain unconscious myths and expectations--a whole lot of "shoulds". But religion is hardly the only culprit. Our society, popular culture, our communities, our family's values, and our own perceptions, as well as what's inherited from the collective unconscious, all make up the crazy mix that is our psychology (pun intended).

If you look first at individuals--we all are programmed, or program ourselves, with certain "myths". We accept certain things "a priori"--it's "the way things are". When someone does something outside of that purview, we scramble to make sense of the event--whether we reject the event and the person through our judgement, or try to find logical reasons for the event. Ironically, our mind doesn't work logically, but we always try to deal with unexpected events logically, or at least interpret them in terms of our internal myths.

To take a very simple example--say that you pass a co-worker every day and say "good morning" in the hallway. Then, for about 2 weeks, that person doesn't speak to you or make eye contact with you. The first thing you do is wonder if you've offended that person, you go over every possible encounter and conversation, you may ask others about them. If you can't come up with a reason, or you contrive one (you think perhaps they were offended by a comment you made, even though they never said anything), then you become defensive against that person. They are so terribly selfish and unwilling to understand you, aren't they? You're just misunderstood. Then--you find out that had a life-changing event--a spouse left them in an unhappy divorce, a parent died, or something else happened, which now puts their behavior in context. It's not about you, it's about what they're going through. And thus I've demonstrated a peculiarity of human psychology--we think everything that happens around us is because of us.

Fear is another good example. How many times have we been afraid of things when there's absolutely no good reason? And then put all these factors into groups--I've written in the past about group psychology and herd mentality. Then add a media that writes about and interprets the culture based on their own criteria (usually, what can be hyped to make a good story), and what have you got? Well, it's not a rational and logical humanity, whatever it is.

I think this is why detachment is considered to be such a value in meditation. Detachment is not cold and selfish, at least not in this sense. Detachment allows you to stand back and watch life as though you are watching a movie. When you really look at it, you may be able to see how absurd it is. But a lot of people equate this with not caring. I remember writing a poem about my impressions of others, how I interpreted the "vibes" I felt while riding the subway at rush hour. One woman who read my poem gave me a lot of attitude for "judging these people and not thinking it applies to you, too." She missed the point entirely. One has to look at things as though they're not happening to them once in awhile. Your impressions of the outside are the first step. How you fit in is the next step.

I don't wish to suggest that certain kinds of behavior are justified. But you will go crazy if you believe that the world is a rational place. Maybe it should be. But it isn't.

My Own Ghost Stories

At 6:30, it is already dark. It's no wonder I keep going to bed early--I'm convinced that it's later than it is. Daylight Savings will not happen until November 7, so it will continue to be dark when I leave for work, and shortly after I get home. Any extra daylight won't last long.

Halloween is less than 2 weeks away. So far, I've listed ghostly children's and young adult books, ghostly TV shows and documentaries, and Victorian ghost stories. Tonight I thought it might be nice to tell some real ghost stories. And I haven't read these in books; these are my own.

I should start by noting that I am not the type that sees ghosts, no matter how badly I may want to do so. In fact, I have never "seen" a ghost--I have only been aware of them in other ways. One's ability to see ghosts has a lot to do with one's psychological barriers. A person who is a good subject for hypnosis is also a likely candidate for experiencing ghosts and other such phenomena. They are what you call "open" or "receptive". I tend to like being in control of myself, and I'm not very good at being receptive at all. I'm quite paranoid about leaving the psychic doors "wide open". However, with meditation and other practices, I've at least increased my sensitivity.

So, without further ado:

Story 1: I once lived in a house in Raven Rock, NJ with my then-husband. Raven Rock has always had an interesting vibe to it--the black, rocky cliffs seem to be bursting with some kind of earth energy. I lived in a house on top of those rocks; it was a rental, and we had another couple who lived on the other side of the house. On two occasions that I can remember, I woke up around 5:00 in the morning to the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. We had cats, but this was not the sound of kitty feet--not unless kitties were wearing combat boots. My husband woke up and heard it as well. He said, "Oh shit, I think we have a burglar." He grabbed a heavy object and went carefully out into the hall, towards the stairs. Of course, no one was there. The second time this happened, he had the same reaction. "Oh, just forget it and go back to sleep," I told him. "It's only the ghost." Indeed, the second time--there also was no one there.

There is another part to this story, contributed by our neighbors at the time. My neighbors had a very strange dog--it was part beagle, part basset hound, and part yellow labrador. The dog had a number of toys, one of which was a rooster toy that made a "cock-a-doodle-do" sound when it was squeezed. The dog had ripped the side of this toy, and the stuffing was coming out, so my neighbor put the toy on top of their fridge, so that she could mend it later. Several months went by, and she'd forgotten about it. One night, she awoke to a "cock-a-doodle-do" sound. It was about 2:30 in the morning. She was confused at first about the sound, but then remembered that it was the sound of the dog toy. Then she became more aware and realized that her husband and the dog were both in bed with her, sleeping. "Oh forget it," she thought, and turned over to go back to sleep. Then she heard the sound again. "Okay, now this isn't funny," she thought, and got out of bed. Taking the dog with her, she made her way down the winding staircase, towards the kitchen. At the bottom of the stairs, the dog froze and began to growl. "Oh no, we have a burglar," she thought. She quickly snapped on the lights. No one was there. The dog toy was still on top of the fridge.

We laughed about it when we discussed our stories, but I noticed that when her husband was away on contracting jobs, she always asked us to come over and stay up with her for awhile. It made her quite nervous to be alone. A friend of theirs who was psychic claimed that he sensed the spirit of a young boy--about 8-years-old. Not malevolent, just playful. Whether that was the case or not, I don't know, but it certainly seemed to fit.

Story 2: I was in Ottawa, Canada, for a conference. I could not resist going on "Le Marche Hantee", the Haunted Walk of Ottawa (forgive my lack of diacritics). I went on the traditional walk around the city, and one of the stops was the Bytown Museum (Le Musee By). There were stories of hauntings in the gift shop, and people had reported experiences in the upper rooms as well. The head of the group that ran the haunted walks was afraid to be in there by himself after dark, and anyone who had to lock up usually fled the premises as quickly as possible. Intrigued, I decided to visit the museum the next day after sessions, not expecting too much because it was daytime. I entered through the gift shop area, and started to walk around the museum, starting from the first floor. Towards the back of the room behind the gift shop, there is a mannequin wearing a soldier's uniform behind glass in a little alcove. Behind that exhibition is a spiral staircase that leads to nowhere--it is simply bolted into the stone wall. As I walked into the alcove, the hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I felt tingles going up and down my spine. For me, that's always been the indicator that something is--well, potentially paranormal. Suddenly I heard footsteps ringing on the spiral staircase, as though someone was coming down the stairs. As I turned around, the footsteps stopped. No one was there. Really, no living person could have been there--not unless they had been standing on the stairs when I got there, and they most definitely would have been seen.

I had a similar sensation in the Castillo de San Marcos in St. Augustine, Florida. I was visiting St. Augustine with my family at the time of my niece's high school graduation. We paid a visit to the old fort, and as I walked into one of the old prison rooms, I had the same sensation, along with a striking cold feeling in the Florida heat. At that time, I did not see or hear anything, I just had the sensation.

Story 3: I blogged about my visit to the Red Mill in Clinton, NJ. I've visited there a number of times, but this was the time I went on a special event ghost hunt with Dustin Pari, Kris Williams, and Bruce Tango, all known from the Ghost Hunters TV show. Nothing happened for me while I was at the Mill, but when I went home, I had a curious thing happen the next day. While I was writing my blog post on the event, I heard a loud banging on the wall behind me--like a knock. I think the room even shook a little.  There is nothing that should have made that sound--it was not a heating pipe, nor any of the other familiar old-house sounds. One of the cat's toys, a cow that makes a mechanical "mooing" sound, suddenly jumped out of the cat's toy basket and went off.  My cat responded by jumping onto the sofa and staring intently at a picture of the Srichakra that I have on my living room wall. The feeling that someone else in the room was so overwhelming, I turned on the digital voice recorder I had in the living room, to give whatever it might be an opportunity to say something. But it didn't say anything, and eventually the feeling went away. The only thought in my head was that something followed me from the Mill. This was not a fancy--I had no reason to believe that was the case, it was just a thought that popped into my head, that I couldn't get rid of. I wasn't afraid of whatever it was, but it was curious.

Story 4: This one is quite recent. I'd blogged about a weird night when I found a spider walking on my chest. This is not so weird--I live in the country, and unfortunately, you do get spiders in the house. Fortunately, they're not usually really big, but I still don't like finding them in my bed. However, the spider is unrelated to this event, except that they both occurred on the same night. I woke up at around 3:00 in the morning, and looked at the clock. For some reason, I recalled the Amityville Horror case, and the business about the Lutzes waking up at 3:15 am. Suddenly, I felt something get into bed with me--it was a black mass with a vaguely human shape. It took a hold of my left arm. I felt paralyzed, and started to feel drained. However, I felt I'd encountered something like this many years prior, and I knew the right thing to do was to yell at it. I couldn't yell, so I  thought of my guru's name, and immediately whatever it was let go. I then turned and shouted at it, and it ran off. Even though it was gone, I still felt that breaking up of my energy. Usually I think of Kali or Shiva at moments like this, but for some reason I started reciting a Krishna mantra, and the words of a Krishna bhajan came into my head. Immediately it was like the room filled with light, and my the breaks in my energy suddenly disappeared, leaving me feeling whole again. Still, I did some banishing work when I got up--you can't be too careful with such things.

None of these experiences left me particularly frightened, which surprises me--I would have thought that I would have had a sense of terror. But only the last one was moderately disturbing, and even then, I didn't feel fear as much as I felt shock. Maybe if I actually saw an apparition it would be different.

So, these are my stories. Hopefully none of them will disturb your dreams.

The Exorcist (Part 2 of 2): Occultists, Buddhists, and Other Non-Monotheists

Yesterday I posted about Father Lampert’s talk on exorcism in the Catholic Church. The talk was interesting and engaging, and he had many fascinating stories. But what came to light for me was the age-old problem I’ve had with the Church—it’s conception of things outside of the monotheistic purview, like pagan religions, Eastern religions, and occult practices.

First, there is the problem of the Church lumping everything that is “not monotheism” into one category. To the Church, spiritualists, table tappers, Satanists, and Buddhist monks all fall into the same category. They lump use of crystals or Tarot cards in with black magic and black masses. All of it is, of course, suspect, because it is not Catholicism. Father Lampert had quoted Deuteronomy 18. As I said earlier, this is dangerous, because Deuteronomy also advocates stoning wayward children to death (chapter 21), and suggests that any man with damage to his “manhood” cannot ever go to heaven (chapter 23). In short, I would not use an old law manual meant for nomadic Hebrews as your 21st century doctrine. At best, you’re going to look hypocritical because you follow some things and not others.

But that is not the most important consideration. It is the conception of occultists. To the Church, the occultist is someone who has turned their face away from God. They will cite rebellion, and in some cases, that may be true. But the rebellious teenager snubbing his parents’ religion is hardly the crux of the problem. I have met many occultists in my lifetime, and have practiced myself. Here is a scenario that illustrates a more accurate picture of one who “turns to the occult”:

Let’s assume a female subject. She is about 14, and a devout Catholic, goes to Catholic school. She has the kind of religious zeal that one has before they get interested in boys or horses. She wants to be a nun. Suddenly, one night, she has a startling vision—maybe not even entirely a vision, perhaps an experience. There is nothing suspect or evil about the experience—the result is overflowing joy and compassion. Yet there are elements of the experience that don’t quite match up to the Catholic worldview she’s been raised with. Catholic doctrine is a bit of a round hole to this square peg. She is not troubled by the vision, she is only troubled by the fact that it doesn’t line up precisely with what she’s been taught. She talks the matter over with her parish priest or school chaplain. She gets one of two possible responses:

“I don’t know what that is, so it’s probably of the devil, and just don’t pay attention to that. Read the Bible.”

“Are you having trouble at home? What’s the real problem you’re having?”

Both of these responses are irresponsible and inadequate for two reasons. One, it seeks to squelch a transformative experience for a budding soul. Two, it shows no respect to the girl—how could it be possible for her to have some kind of saintly experience? If anything, she must be “dabbling in the occult”, or doing something wrong. The first response will leave the girl in a state of anxiety, because now she feels she can’t trust her own spiritual experiences. The second diminishes her as a spiritual person—real people don’t have “spiritual visions”--only those that the priest thinks are truly “spiritual”. Coincidentally, these are usually the same people who give big collection plate offerings and run all their programs. (Sorry to be cynical, but this happens much more often than it should).

I will liken the girl’s vision to falling in love at first sight. The object of affection is the Divine, or God. She is appealing to the proper authorities, as she wants this relationship with God. And the authorities have told her she’s not suitable. So—she does what every storybook lover does, and she runs away to find her beloved in secret.

And that’s where the occult comes in. Contrary to popular belief, occult practices are designed to bring one into union with God, if you prefer that term. Only a small portion of magical practices center around Goetic evocation (i.e., summoning demons or devils). Usually in such cases mentioned above, demonic evocation would be the last thing they think of doing.

There could be many problems with this. Confronting the Divine means confronting the Collective Unconscious, and that’s a dangerous journey to make without a guide. In fact, with no guide, you’re likely to go crazy. Even if you find a guide, you need to be sure that guide has your best interests at heart, and is not foisting an agenda onto you. It can happen in any spiritual practice. Nonetheless, the pursuit of Divine bliss is enough to make people take the risk. If they weary of the journey, they may decide to return to the safety of organized religion. Many do not. Once you’ve dropped the mediator, there’s no need to ask them to come back. Mediators with the Divine (e.g., priests) can have agendas, too.

As for Satanism, I think I can count on one hand the number of Satanists and/or black magicians I’ve met in my lifetime. It’s hardly a common path. I think it’s most popular among teenage boys who think it’s a joke. Perhaps that is an area of concern for the Church, but it’s hardly an epidemic. A lot of Satanic worship is outright rebellion against the Church. There is a hatred of the Church that suggests that there was once love—love that was probably crushed by a dismissive and authoritarian clergyman. With regard to black magicians—they’re usually shunned by other occultists. I’ve known of a few who have been banned from magical societies. Occult practices should serve the same function as religious ritual—they are designed to get rid of your unwanted spiritual baggage and bring you closer to the Divine. Religion is a tool, and not everyone needs the same tool. Of course, that goes against Catholic exclusivist doctrine, but I don’t see either logically or intuitively how anything else could be true. If you are too wedded to the system, then the system becomes your idol; you are more interested in preserving your system than in fulfilling its intended results.

Now, with regard to Reiki and yoga. I’ve already talked about the Reiki fiasco in the Church, otherwise known as the “someone on the Council of Bishops never learned how to use a library” fiasco. Reiki was banned as a Catholic practice based on false information and poor research. Lately yoga has been a target of both Catholic and Protestant groups, probably more the latter. But I mention the former, since Father Lampert mentioned it in his remarks at the Q&A.

First—Reiki is an energy therapy. It means “universal energy”. In the East, there isn’t anything that isn’t infused with the Divine, but this is perhaps the only spiritual connection to Reiki. You might be able to view it as a type of acupuncture done through touch. It redirects the body’s energies. One does usually say a prayer at the beginning, but that can be to whomever they like—if they want to invoke Jesus’ help, then that is fine. Reiki has been a blessing to people in excruciating pain, and it’s beyond shameful that bishops would take this away from Catholics. The assertion is that Catholics should use healing methods “within their own religion”. Father Lampert had described it as idolatry—relying on something other than God (as they understand it) for help. But that doesn’t really wash, because it validates those Christian groups that will watch their child die from a treatable disease, because “they should only rely on God’s help”. One will argue from that view that God created the medicines for them to use, or allowed them to be created. Then why wouldn’t God create Reiki?

The objections to yoga can only be partially sustained. The objections to the studios that practice hatha yoga cannot be sustained at all. People really are doing it for exercise. Hatha yoga, for an Eastern spiritual practitioner, is designed to ready the body for other kinds of yoga. If you’ve ever had an experience of kundalini shakti, you know that while it brings great bliss, peace, and compassion, it can also leave you feeling like you have the flu when it subsides, if your body is not prepared for this energy burst. Hatha yoga prepares the body for that Divine flow. But—it can be used in isolation. They are only stretches, and they can be used just as well to loosen up stiff muscles and relax the body. They are not inexorably wedded to Divine aspirations.

Other kinds of yoga SHOULD be avoided, unless they are undertaken with a Master or Guru. I would agree that there is a real risk of damage if you mess with those energy centers in a careless fashion. The damage has nothing to do with “demons” or “evil spirits” (though it might leave one too psychologically “open”) —it has to do with the impact of this energy flow on your mind. It has to be regulated safely and properly, according to what your body can handle. Since Catholics would find it anathema for a believer to work with an Eastern Master (at least under the current Pope), then it’s probably a practice they should avoid.

I find it interesting that the Church reiterates their objections to these practices on the grounds that they invoke “spirits other than God”. That’s just mind-bogglingly false. No spirits are invoked at all. It demonstrates a complete lack of understanding of Eastern religious thought. In the East, God is not a separate Being “out there”; God is everywhere, and in every person. Any form the Divine might take is just a convenience; as Joseph Campbell said, “Deities are the vehicle, not the Source”. Our mind has to have images, so we must have gods to relate to the Mystery. But they are not worshipping something different or separate from the Christian God, except in name. To them, there is no separation, except in the mind. So, all actions are necessarily spiritual. You can go to a Hindu Temple and see the pujaris wash the feet of the deity, offer food, flowers and a camphor flame. By the same token, you can visit a Hindu Indian household, and be greeted by having your feet washed, being garlanded with flowers, and having a camphor flame waved in front of you. You are as much a vehicle of God as the statue in the Temple. It’s a different view, and the practices have nothing to do with invoking spirits or entities in the way it’s thought of in Western monotheism.

So—to conclude this very long post—if the Church is concerned about people “turning away from the path”—their path—to the occult, they’d better start taking a different approach. There is plenty in their theology that could support people who have these “mystical” experiences, but they choose to treat it dismissively, and to maintain willful ignorance and a closed mind to these alternate approaches and their effects. It shows a lack of respect for the person, and for the world at large to be so dismissive. They would keep more of their flock if they took it seriously and respectfully.

The Exorcist (Part 1 of 2) : The Lecture

On Wednesday night, Montclair State University’s Newman Catholic Center sponsored a lecture by Father Vincent Lampert, who is one of only 24 appointed exorcists in the United States. I attended, because I was interested to see what the modern take is on this ancient (and perhaps antiquated) rite.

There will be 2 blog postings on this event, as my thoughts on it will not fit comfortably into one post. This post will be more of a summary of the event, and the subsequent post will address the issues raised by the theology discussed at the event. Even if you are not Catholic, you should find them interesting.

The lecture opened naturally enough with student board members for the Newman Center hawking their events, and the President of their FOCUS group (don’t remember what it stands for, but it’s basically a Catholic ministry) had to show a video advertising their next conference. Perhaps I should have expected that at a Catholic Center event, but I tend to find proselytization of this kind offensive. I even find it offensive when it’s done by followers of my own guru, so this is not about Catholicism per se. Still, it did not take up too much time, and shortly thereafter the chaplain introduced Father Lampert.

Father Lampert’s opening statement was, “So, do I look like an exorcist?” He seemed like a very grounded individual, on the level, and had an admirable sense of humor. He mentioned Pope Benedict XVI’s recent encyclical, “Caritas et Veritate” (Love and Truth), which addressed the current economic crisis in the world. Benedict suggested that our crises stem from a deeper moral crisis, with more people “turning away from God, and towards occultism and other such beliefs.”  Father Lampert suggested that he was there not to scare people with stories about exorcism and demons, but to help bring people back “to the path of God”. All of this is very reasonable for a Catholic priest to say, and is in line with Catholic theology. However, Benedict’s statement and this follow up are both problematic. But I’ll save that for my next post.

Father then went on to discuss the kinds of calls he gets for exorcisms. In many (if not most) cases, what the person needs is counseling of some sort, not an exorcism. People have things happen to them, and then decide to self-diagnose the problem on the Internet, and come to the conclusion that they are possessed or otherwise in need of an exorcist. Real possession is a very rare phenomenon. The exorcist always makes sure the person is evaluated by a mental health professional and works in consultation with such a person before even considering an exorcism.

There are 4 criteria for considering a person to be “possessed”—1. The ability to understand unknown languages, 2. Displays of extraordinary strength, 3. Elevated perception and knowledge (ability to know things they couldn’t possibly know), and 4. Strong resistance against divine influences (presumably prayers, holy objects, and holy water).

Father Lampert became an exorcist because “he was in the wrong place at the wrong time”. The previous exorcist for the Archdiocese of Indianapolis died in 2005, and the priests were avoiding the bishop, feeling certain that he was looking for a replacement. So, Father Lampert was at the bishop’s residence for a meeting, when he ended up passing the bishop in the hallway. The bishop stopped him and said, “Father, I have a favor to ask”. And he knew that he was stuck from that point onward. He went to Rome for mentoring with an exorcist there (one of the chief exorcists from the Vatican, I believe), and sat in on 40 exorcisms during his training.

The Rites of Exorcism are not easy to come by in the United States, though they are widely available in Italy for about 14 euros a copy. The Rites were one of the last documents to be revised by the Vatican in recent years—they hadn’t been revised since 1614. The doctrine of belief in demons and angelic beings goes back to 1215 and the Fourth Council of the Lateran. The Church teaching is that the Devil cannot act directly on the human soul, only on the human mind and imagination, and sometimes the body as well.  They believe that unclean spirits cannot read our thoughts; they can incite emotions and note their effects on us. Evil spirits vary in strength and specialty. How much power they have is relative to the effectiveness of the individual’s resistance. Father Lampert notes that God and the Devil are not of the same ilk—there is a difference between creature and creator, and the Devil is considered to be a creature.

In the Old Testament, only 2 orders of angels are noted—cherubim and seraphim. St. Paul extended the list to 9 orders—seraphim, cherubim, thrones, dominations, virtues, powers, principalities, angels, and archangels.  Father Lampert suggested that just as Jesus incarnated as a human, the Devil wants to mimic God by entering or influencing a human body. The word “Devil” is from the Greek diabolos (adversary), and there is also the Hebrew “Satan” or Shaitan (opposer). The term “Lucifer” no longer applies, as that was the name given to the archangel (described as winged two-headed beasts) by God. In one of the exorcisms witnessed by Father Lampert, when the entity was asked if it was Lucifer, it said, “That was my name, but no longer”.

Demonic influence is said to be of 2 types, the “ordinary” and the “extraordinary”. The ordinary is the regular temptations we face in our lives. The extraordinary is of 4 different types: 1. Infestation (curses, haunted houses), 2. Oppression and/or physical attacks (often on those striving to become closer to God), 3. Obsession (intense and persistent attacks on the mind), and 4. Possession (temporary control of the person’s body and consciousness). Possession usually occurs during a time of crisis in the person’s life, when they are vulnerable to having their consciousness cut off. Their eyes may roll back, their jaws drop, and they may start foaming at the mouth and growling.

How does possession occur? According to Father Lampert, either directly or indirectly, and the Church considers 4 possible ways to invite possession: 1. Occult ties, 2. Curses, 3. Dedication to the Devil, 4. A life of hardship (and presumably a weak psyche as a result). With regard to the first way, he cites everything from crystals and Tarot cards to black magic rituals. He says that occult practices are considered idolatry, because you are seeing help from a spirit other than God. He quotes Deuteronomy 18—a theological slippery slope in my opinion, but again, I will save those comments for my next post.

There are actually 2 kinds of exorcism—imperative and supplicating. Anyone can perform a supplicating exorcism, which involves prayers  of deliverance to God to release the person from the demonic influence. Only trained exorcists are supposed to do imperative exorcisms, which address the demon directly with the authority of Christ.
In the fine tradition of list-making, Father gave us yet another list of the 10 preparations/steps for exorcism, and 12 questions you ask a person to determine if they are possessed. The first list is a matter of procedure and somewhat obvious . What I didn’t know is that exorcisms always take place in a sacred space—the notion of doing an exorcism at the victim’s home is apparently false. The 12 questions were rather interesting—they look at things like psychological history and drug abuse, but largely seem to center around one’s interest in the occult and affiliation with anyone who engages in occult practices—they include psychics and fortunetellers on that list.

At this point, Father Lambert opened up the floor for questions. I did not stay for the whole Q&A period, just long enough to be irritated by remarks about yoga and Reiki (which he suggested they should avoid, because they conjure up spirits). I understand that he has to toe the line of official doctrine, but if you really don’t know a topic, just say you don’t know, rather than make a sweeping generalization that may create problems for those who use those techniques. Neither has anything to do with conjuring spirits or appealing to spirits. He also brought up the “3 AM hour mocking the death of Christ” bit. If that’s part of doctrine, it’s just ridiculous. But it may well be that is the case. Besides those 2 questions, I could get behind his answers to the questions that were presented. One young man started with, “Hi, Father, I shook your hand before.” The priest responded, “Yes, I won’t wash it for a week.” (Points for the excellent reply). The last question I heard as I was leaving was, “Do you think Glenn Beck is possessed?”which generated a lot of laughter. Father Lambert said that he does not spend his time watching such negative shows, which drew applause. To be fair to the questioner, Glenn Beck has all the physical signs of possession—eyes rolling back, foaming at the mouth, jumping around and grunting like an animal. It ought to be considered.

On the whole, it was an extremely informative evening, and I don’t wish to give the impression that I have a quarrel with Father Lampert personally on points I disagreed with; I have no doubt that he is accurately reporting the Church’s position in all of his remarks. It’s the Church’s position, and ignorance about many of these things, that I find problematic. In the next blog post, I intend to address 2 things:  the Church’s conception of the occult and those who are drawn to it, and the Church’s conception of Eastern religious practices. If the Church wishes to have a legitimate future, it’s something they will have to reflect on themselves.

Last Letter

Last Thursday, I saw an article on NPR’s Facebook page about the imminent release of a previously unpublished Ted Hughes poem, called “Last Letter”.

Most of you probably know that Ted Hughes, in addition to being one of England’s poet laureates, was married for about 6 or 7 tumultuous years to Sylvia Plath. I think people remember him more for the latter than the former, at least in the United States. There has been much criticism of Hughes in the wake of Plath’s suicide in 1963, and many feminist writers and critics seemed to hold him responsible for her death, due to “mistreatment”. They base this on the fact that Hughes left her for another woman after 6 years of marriage (a woman who also committed suicide later on). 

The poem that was released on Thursday was something of a bombshell. Ted Hughes did release a collection of poems he’d written to Plath during their relationship called “Birthday Letters”, but never had anyone seen a poem on the actual suicide event itself. Carol Hughes, Ted Hughes’ widow and keeper of his literary legacy, led Melyvn Bragg to this poem in the British Library archives. He was guest editing an issue of the New Statesman, and had asked Carol if he could use an unpublished poem of Ted’s in the issue. Mrs. Hughes apparently knew about this poem for years, and it seems she was waiting for the right moment and the right circumstances to release it to the public.

A friend of mine sent me a copy of the poem, which I’m not reprinting here, as I understand the estate is very strict about reprinting permissions. However, it is available in the October 7 issue of the New Statesman (if you are at a university, you might be able to access this online through your library). I found myself shaking as I read this poem. It’s hard not to be affected by it. Even Melvyn Bragg was affected—his voice broke upon reading the last lines of the poem at a public event. 

Now, to the poem itself—Hughes reveals a number of things about Sylvia’s suicide. First, she apparently mailed him a suicide note on the Friday before the deed, perhaps assuming it would not reach him until Monday. British post usually comes twice a day, so the postman “defeated” her by getting the letter to him too soon. When he knocked on her door, he was relieved to see her answer. There is a disturbing image in the poem of Sylvia with her “strange smile” taking the suicide letter from him and burning it in an ashtray. He recounts the way he spent his weekend, out with another woman, but somehow returning to the places where he and Sylvia first met. The poem ends with the words from a phone call “your wife is dead”. 

The poem lays to rest a lot of assumptions about Hughes’ interaction with Plath in her last days. I’ve always thought it was unfair for people to judge Ted Hughes as being somehow “responsible” for Plath’s depression and suicide. No one should ever pass that judgment on someone else’s relationship—even if they knew the couple well. If anything is clear from Sylvia Plath’s biography, it is that she was NOT a well person. As far as I know she was never officially diagnosed with a mental illness, but her mother’s account of her screams “bipolar”. If she was indeed bipolar, and it was untreated, then there was nothing anyone could do. And there would have been no way for Ted to win against that—his marriage to her would have been doomed from the start. It would not be surprising to have a mental illness like that go undiagnosed in the 1950s. It is clear from one of her mother’s few public interviews that she was dismissive of the idea of Sylvia being mentally ill. A psychologist is more qualified to look at the facts and make a guess than I am, though we’d never really know without Sylvia actually being here. 

Whether it was bipolar disorder or something else, it is clear that not all was right mentally with Sylvia, even before Ted left. This may have been the fountain of her genius as well as of her suffering. One wonders if we would have such a magnificent body of poetry from her if she had been medicated for a diagnosed illness. And then you have to ask—is that level of insanity required for creativity? Does the artist always have to live a torturous emotional life or have a “screw loose”? Does that bring about the “best” art? How fine is the line between creativity and insanity?

A recent study suggests that the answer may be dopamine. Highly creative people and those with schizophrenia have a low number of D2 receptors (receptors for dopamine) in the thalamus, which means they have fewer information “filters”. This enables them to make connections and associations in ways that others don’t. The article I’ve linked to makes a distinction between “healthy creatives” and schizophrenics. But again, there is a spectrum, and the lines seem very blurry at times.

Back to Ted Hughes-- I feel a lot of sympathy for him, because in the end, he had a relationship that was unmanageable, and even harmful at times. I know what it’s like to reach the point where there’s nothing else you can do but leave. It is clear that he still cared about Sylvia, and there is nothing worse than when you really love someone and realize that it’s just not going to work, no matter how much you want that. In any difficult relationship, there is never just one partner responsible for the split—as they say, “it takes two to tango” (though it can be argued that sometimes one partner is clearly more responsible). But to blame Hughes for Plath’s suicide is just unfair. I hope the publication of the poem lays much of that controversy to rest.

Ghost Stories

We're edging ever closer to Halloween, which means soon I will be in the mood for Christmas. But I'm determined not to rush things this year, even though I've already started my Christmas shopping.

Traditionally, Christmas was a time for telling ghost stories, which gives it something in common with our modern Halloween. I think my own writing has a rather odd style because most of what I read for pleasure ARE ghost stories--not just the YA variety mentioned in previous posts, but 19th and early 20th century Victorian ghost stories in particular. I'm not too impressed with later stories, as they tend to be too "horror" driven--psychopaths, zombies, serial killers--these can make for suspenseful stories, but they are not the good old fashioned scare that I enjoy.

If you read enough ghost story collections, you will find a lot of repetition of content. I just may have read every Victorian ghost story still in print. Below is a list of classics that is by no means exhaustive, and links to read those stories where they exist:

The Empty House by Algernon Blackwood
Canon Alberic's Scrap Book by M.R. James
Nobody Ever Goes There--Manly Wade Wellman
The House of the Nightmare--Edward Lucas White
The House of Nightmare, and Lukundoo (Dodo Press)
The Vacant Lot--Mary Wilkins Freeman
Shadow over Innsmouth--H.P. Lovecraft
The Next Room--Vincent O'Sullivan (no link)
What Was It?--FitzJames O'Brien
The Tractate Middoth--M.R. James
The Dream Woman--Wilkie Collins
Man-Size in Marble-E. Nesbit
The Body-Snatchers--Robert Louis Stevenson
The Signal-Man--Charles Dickens
Mr. Justice Harbottle--J. Sheridan Le Fanu
The White People--Arthur Machen

All of these authors listed are classic authors in some capacity, with M.R. James, Sheridan Le Fanu, Wilkie Collins, Algernon Blackwood, and H.P. Lovecraft probably being the most well-known. Here are a few collections I would recommend:

Casting the Runes and Other Ghost Stories (Oxford World's Classics)

J. S. le Fanu's Ghostly Tales

Edward Gorey's Haunted Looking Glass: Ghost Stories

Best Ghost Stories of Algernon Blackwood

The Best of H. P. Lovecraft: Bloodcurdling Tales of Horror and the Macabre

Pleasant reading.

Shut In

I’ve been doing less blogging and more winterizing these days. I’m extremely conscious of my oil bill, and would like to have my payments go down, not up. It has been damp and cold here—the house temperature is only 60 degrees Fahrenheit. But I just close the storm windows and put on an extra sweater—I refuse to turn the heat on this early in the month.

All of this closing up and shutting down naturally makes me think of what that symbolizes on less conscious levels. Recently, Risha Mullins posted an experience she had with a particular school district with regard to censorship. (I’m not posting the link, as she took the article down when people started calling and writing to her former district with angry comments). The post was very moving (Fark gave it a “sick” tag, being hugged by the crying “sad” tag), and has a lot to do with the idea of closing up and shutting down.

The gist of her post was this: She’s a schoolteacher with a Masters in Reading, that started a book club for her students. They read a variety of award-winning YA books. The membership in the book club eventually went up to 130 students, and the students’ reading comprehension scores went up as well. Then—a parent decide to complain that one of the books was “pornography” (what YA librarian hasn’t heard this before?), and suddenly she was removed as chair of the literacy committee, the principal threatening to disband the book club, and she generally became the center of controversy. Things were temporarily ironed out when a committee agreed to review and approve the books, but the controversy took on a life of its own, and parents jumped on the bandwagon to criticize her, eventually leading to an in-school suspension and other difficulties for Risha. Eventually she just gave up and resigned from her job. The controversy that followed her prevented her from getting a new job near her husband’s new job. And the reading comprehension test scores of the kids in her former school plummeted once again.

What’s sad about this? Many things, and they’re all interconnected. But the root of the issue is fear; namely, the fear of parents who don’t want their children exposed to literature that talks about real-life feelings and situations. They want to protect them from stories about drugs, rape, gay relationships, sex in general, realistic narratives of the Holocaust—anything that might disturb their child’s peaceful, sheltered existence and the worldview they want them to have. I don’t know if there’s a study weighing requests for censorship against religious background and beliefs, but I would bet money that the biggest complainers are the ones that claim to be strictly religious, usually in the Biblical Christian literalist sense. (The same group, by the way, that failed miserably on a survey of basic questions about religion and religious beliefs in America).

What I find interesting and disturbing is the attempt to keep children “shut in” by not exposing them to any alternative viewpoints or real-life situations. Shutting in is a means of protection, a withdrawal. Sometimes it is a good thing—in dangerous situations, or overwhelming ones, withdrawing your energies may be the only sensible option. But withdrawing from the world and wearing a cloak of deliberate ignorance I would say is not so good. It’s a kind of “whistling in the graveyard”, or if you could imagine the person with their hands over their ears saying “la-la-la, I can’t hear you.”

Deliberate ignorance is an avoidance of responsibility. Either you are participating in society or you aren’t. To deliberately ignore the realities of life, and then get vocally and disruptively angry when they don’t match your fantasy view of the world is childish and irresponsible. It’s also a crime against children, who are given no tools for negotiating real world situations—something that is society’s responsibility. Pretending that such things don’t happen and not letting your teenagers see them is almost a guarantee that they will do the wrong thing if confronted with such a situation. But it goes beyond an individual and their child; all of our actions affect others, whether we like to accept it or not. And when individuals act in xenophobic ways, anyone perceived as “different” or offering differing viewpoints is needlessly harmed.

However, not all “shutting down” is about ignorance and avoidance. Besides withdrawing in the face of danger, there are times in life when we are legitimately at a stalemate. We make efforts, but have to wait for results. And we can’t go further until we get those results. Sometimes we have days that are what I call “comically awful”. A comically awful day is one that has so many bad things happen in succession that you can’t do anything but laugh, because it seems like a huge, cosmic prank. But we all have times where we feel tired, defeated, and/or depressed. At such times, withdrawing and re-evaluating our position, taking stock of our life and why we feel the way we do is the best thing. It’s been suggested that depression has the biological function of shutting us down so that we can recuperate. But such a shutting down is only a temporary break, and doesn’t mean an avoidance of responsibility. It is facing one’s responsibility and possibly correcting one’s actions if warranted. Too often we try to avoid these periods of shutting down, feeling that there is something wrong with us if we do that. But, “when fishermen can’t go to sea, they repair nets.” Sometimes withdrawing our energies and not acting is the only correct action.

Colbert, Stewart, and Political Influence

Today, Stephen Colbert went to Congress to give testimony on a bill for migrant farm workers. He gave his testimony in character, save the last couple sentences of his speech. From what I've read about the speech, it seems that he made his point, even if it was in a satirical manner. I was not surprised that Colbert testified; what surprised me was Congress' response. After being welcomed by the committee chair, John Conyers (D-Mich), he was asked to leave. The reason? Conyers suggested that Colbert should stick to his comedy show, and leave the testimony to real experts.

Colbert did give his testimony. Many Democrats laughed, while the Republicans (whom he frequently lampoons) sat "stony-faced". Tsk-tsk. Bringing in a comedian to talk about serious issues. How unprofessional is that?

Quite frankly, I'm surprised they don't testify more. And I'm surprised at Conyers' remark. Because if our elected officials are too dumb to figure this out, I'll say it here. In all capital letters, so it can be like a conservative blog post: SATIRICAL SHOWS LIKE THE COLBERT REPORT TEND TO REFLECT THE ATTITUDE OF THE THINKING PUBLIC. Anyone who believes otherwise has been living in a vacuum.

During ANY Presidential election year, you will find articles about the candidates paying special attention to Saturday Night Live, the Daily Show, the Colbert Report, and other shows that satirize politics. The show skits and commentary are mocking shadows of the candidates, and like many shadow-figures, they tell the candidates a lot about how they're perceived by the public--particularly their weaknesses. No one likes to see that, but paying attention to those perceptions has helped candidates win elections.

Indiana University published a study showing that news items presented on the Daily Show with Jon Stewart are "just as substantive" as regular news programs. The numbers vary by poll, but some have shown that there are people who trust the Daily Show and the Colbert Report for their news over other networks. Polls also show that regular watchers of these programs tend to be more educated. So why would educated people get their news from a comedy show? Sounds absurd, right?

Not really. Most mainstream media these days isn't about real journalism, it's about spin. News sources are either "liberal" or "conservative", and the public trust the shows that best reflect and validate their view of things. They're not particularly interested in facts. Satire provides an interesting compromise. These shows can really say all those things people think--all the things that wouldn't normally be polite in society, or that might be shouted down--and it can all be written off as "comedy". Satire has served this function for years. It is the real trickster of the communication world.

So, on the surface, it's easy to write off comedy shows as being just that--entertainment, with no political impact or value. But the audiences that watch satirical shows are educated, as I've mentioned. So, they read between the lines and "get it". And you really don't have to be a genius; you just have to pay attention, and be interested in sorting out the bullshit spin from the facts. Comedy makes that easier to do, not harder. And if it didn't resonate with people, no one would be laughing.

Comedy shows are often accused of a liberal bias, but that's not necessarily the case. They are just as willing to pick on our Democratic President as they are Republicans. It depends on the issue, and on what's occurred. There are no sacred cows in the pasture of satire. (How do you like THAT metaphor?)

One should also notice Stewart's roster of guests: the King of Jordan, former President Bill Clinton, Al Gore, Barack Obama (before he was President), Jimmy Carter, Madeline Albright, Colin Powell...the list goes on. But no, these guys are comedians. The show has nothing to say about issues that anyone takes seriously. Right?

Jon Stewart is having a Rally to Restore Sanity on October 30 on the National Mall in Washington, D.C. (assuming all permits are approved). Even though it is billed as entertainment--and Stephen Colbert will also be there with his "March to Keep Fear Alive"--the numbers of people who show up for this will be telling. If it says nothing else, it says something about how many fans Stewart and Colbert have. And those fans are not likely to be listening to Fox News. Pay attention, Congress.

Free Association. With Spiders.

Last Friday night was singularly unpleasant. I woke up around 4:00 in the morning, to find a spider walking on me—underneath my left breast. Not a huge spider, but not teeny tiny either. Medium-ish. About the size of my fingernail. I threw that sucker across the room, then got up and obliterated it with a large book. No spider bites, fortunately, but not what I would call an ideal start to my day.

I was driving on our nearby mountain late Saturday morning, and I passed a building with a sign in front of it that said “Intergenerational Preschool”. I don’t know what that means, and I don’t know how that’s possible. Unless this “delayed adulthood” that I keep hearing about is worse than I thought.

Lately I’ve been seized by a strange desire to drink port. I don’t usually like port, but I tried a really nice one over the summer at Unionville Vineyards in Ringoes. Maybe it’s the Fall weather, or maybe I’m reading too many Victorian ghost stories. (They all seem to be drinking port in those stories, don’t they?) In any case—it’s out of my budget range at the moment, so maybe next month.

I’ve been watching an old BBC series featuring James Burke called “The Day the Universe Changed.” I’ve gotten through three episodes, and it’s a rather interesting take on the history of ideas. And enough footage of Europe to make me wish I was there.
Scott Adams recently noted in one of his blog posts that men frequently die for ideas, but ideas never die for men.

Ideas are a bit like fire—they can be used for good or for ill, but they’re basically neutral. No idea is dangerous unless you decide to do something harmful with it. Ignorance is not necessarily a factor, except with regard to how much guilt or innocence you have with regard to the consequences of acting on those ideas. But even that’s a gray area.

Still, ideas come from thoughts, and thoughts come from just about anywhere. They breed like dandelions in your pristine lawn, and it’s just as difficult to root out the original culprit. Osho once said that if you took a tape recorder, and spoke aloud to record the stream of thoughts in your mind, then played it back—it would be nothing but garbage. The mind makes a lot of random associations and gibberish. Kind of like this blog posting.

I had a discussion with my friend’s son about meaningful coincidence. He is quite skeptical, and suggests that people see connections where there aren’t any because they don’t understand how probability works. Mathematically, the odds that certain “random” yet similar occurrences will happen is much higher than anyone thinks.
But the brain is all about connecting dots, making correlations. We need to make sense out of everything, even if it makes no sense. This is why we have gods and conspiracy theories. We can’t imagine something existing that isn’t a “thing”. And we have to assign labels to things. For instance—this weekend I was baking, and didn’t open the oven door wide enough when removing something from the oven. As a result, I ended up burning the back of my left hand against the oven door. It no longer hurts, but the burn mark looks like a Rorschach ink blot. I think it looks like a bunny. Or maybe Jesus, if he’s a stick figure doing something funny with his arms.

Thinking about the God argument—East versus West—do ideas have a “substance”? In the West, it is assumed that God is Infinite, Unknowable, and Beyond Time and Space, just as “God” is in the East. But in the West, there is the added condition that God is of a different “substance”. My question is, “Why?” Like Stephen Hawking’s assertion about a creator of the Universe, it just seems unnecessary.

Another spider has lowered himself onto my writing desk. I smoosh him with my New Jersey Homestead Benefit application. Notice it says “Benefit” and not “Rebate”. We get no money back, just an alleged lowering of my property taxes, maybe an extra deduction at tax time next year. An “idea” that is not likely to translate into real action. I look at the smooshed spider next to the words on the envelope, and realize I’m looking at a great metaphor for the idea. In this case, the spider represents the New Jersey taxpayer.

Now that I’ve come full-circle with spiders, I think I’ll have a glass of red wine, and imagine it’s really port, and that I’m drinking it in some drawing room in an old European house.

Relativity and Validation

I saw an article the other day in the New York Times about a 57-year-old woman who was laid off 4 years ago and hasn’t been able to get a job since then, and not because she hasn’t been making the effort. I usually avoid the online comments section, but this time they caught my eye. The first comment was from a young man who said (paraphrasing) that no one should feel sorry for her because she made $80,000 and didn’t save her money, nobody was crying for him while he made a salary in the 20K range.

The young man mentioned that he was in his twenties. It doesn’t say where he lives, who he lives with, or what his financial responsibilities are. I imagine they are not the same as a 57-year-old woman. In fact, finances is the one area where it’s very easy to be judgmental of others. Looking down on people who spend money in a capitalist economy that demands you spend money to thrive. Looking down on those who use credit cards and carry debt, when that is the only way to gain enough credit to get a loan. Looking down on people who may make $30,000-$40,000 a year more than you as having “more than enough”, when after taxes, they probably make almost the same amount as you, and may or may not have more deductions for things like health care. And if you own a home, forget it. Even a reasonably inexpensive house that is in good shape can cost you thousands of dollars if your furnace goes, if you need a new roof, or you have plumbing problems. I can tell you that a few years ago I was debt free except for my mortgage, and the first two things on that list set me back $12,000 immediately. If someone has children—well, kids are expensive. I don’t think I even need to go through that list. So what should people like this do? Sell their house in a market where they probably can’t pay off their mortgage? Put their kids up for adoption? Sell their possessions on eBay when no one is buying?

My friend’s father is a minister, and he told the story of a man who prayed to be relieved of his burden. An angel appeared to him, and showed him a rocky field. There were rocks of all sizes, from tiny pebbles to large boulders. These, said the angel, were the burdens of different human beings. He could choose any one he liked. After some looking, the man chose a small pebble. The angel informed him that this was the burden he had just put down.

The moral may be obvious: no matter what your troubles, someone else always has it worse. What’s not always obvious is what my friend’s mother used to say in response to this story: “Stop minimizing my troubles!”

Another friend asked to borrow one of my Amma books recently. Before I gave it to her, I flipped through it, and my eyes fell on the page about charity. She talked about people who would go into the temple and make an offering, and then kick the beggar outside. “They will say ‘his suffering is his karma.’ What do you know about his karma? If it is his karma to suffer, it is your karma to help him.”

This is where Einstein comes in. Seriously. I was reading a recent blog post by Phil Plait rebutting the “geocentric” view of the universe (in the medieval Biblical sense). He starts out by explaining that one CAN have a geocentric view. In one sense, we all do, because to us, the center of the universe is the Earth. But as Einstein’s theory of relativity showed us, the center of the universe is relative—it’s center is the point from which it is being observed. A little like the concept of Axis Mundi in Black Elk’s vision—every one of us is the Center.

The point of this recognition is that you can only see your own experience and circumstances. You can’t always meaningfully compare your circumstances to others. To judge someone else’s life and problems based on your own experience is flawed. Problems are never simple and straightforward, and you probably don’t even see the tip of the iceberg with regard to factors involved.

I no longer do much in the way of public service—aside from part-time teaching, my job is behind the scenes. But I can tell you that the success of someone in a public service position has little to do with how much they know. It has everything to do with how much they listen.

In my days of working the Reference desk full-time, I had a woman come in several times to ask me questions. I did my best to help her, but we were unable to find satisfactory answers to her questions much of the time. One day I was working in a different library in the County, and I saw the woman. She pointed at me an exclaimed, “I want her to help me. She is the best librarian I have ever met.” That surprised me more than anyone, given that I hardly ever got this woman the answers she needed. But she liked me because I really listened to her questions, and didn’t give her a blow-off response. Many people don’t ask questions because they feel stupid. It’s even worse if you make them feel stupid. I’ve noticed that the most belligerent patrons we ever had who did not have problems needing medication were people who seem to have been treated as stupid or worthless in just about every other area of life. These are people clamoring for validation. When you give it to them, their attitude changes completely within minutes.

One of my favorite restaurants always has a line out the door early in the morning for breakfast, in spite of the fact that there are at least three other breakfast places within walking distance of this one. Certainly the food there is good. But people don’t just go for the food. They go because the waitresses there know everyone on a first name basis, remember what kind of coffee you like, how you prefer your eggs, and what kind of toast you usually want. They will also inquire generally about how you’re doing, and will remember what you told them the last time you were there. You get breakfast and a validated existence. It's hard to put a price tag on that.

Of course, there are people at the other end of the spectrum, who thrive on victimhood and attention. If you encounter one of these people, you will probably spot the trend pretty quickly, and distance yourself appropriately. That is not a beast that should be fed. But it should not be assumed that everyone is like this.

You may have terrible problems. They may be worse than anyone else’s that you know. You may meet people with much worse problems than your own. Your problems will not mean as much to someone else. But the bottom line is that everyone is suffering in different ways and varying degrees. When you show respect for someone’s suffering, even if you don’t understand it, you make them suffer a little less.

Ingenuous

On Friday morning at work, I headed out to the photocopiers to make a copy of something I had to send to another department. One of the machines was in use by a student--a sophomore, Jewish, looking to be a math teacher one day. I learned all this about her in about 7 minutes of standing there, waiting for the other copier to warm up. She was very perky, and was willing to talk nonstop to anyone nearby who looked friendly. I was unprepared for conversation, but I smiled, and listened to her, and wished her luck on getting her homework done on Yom Kippur weekend.

In the grocery store on Saturday, I had a young lady as a cashier who reminded me a bit of the woman I spoke to on Friday. She was smiling, enthusiastic, and telling me all about people who had come in that day, how much she loved her job, and how much she liked talking to people. She didn't understand people who complained about their jobs--and in this economy, it was good to have a job.

At home, I have a neighbor who loves to talk. When I first moved in, my father was getting rid of a pair of cedar trees inexplicably planted right in front of the front windows of the house. My neighbor came over, and talked to him for 45 minutes nonstop, during which time he learned pretty much everything about her, what she did, her family, her ex-husband, and her current problems. My father is polite, but not much for conversation, so he mainly let her talk while he dug up the tree roots. I have had many conversations with my neighbor since then. She is also a Pentecostal, and frequently when discussing her troubles, she'll say, "I talked to the Lord about it yesterday," and proceed to tell me what she told the Lord. As natural as if she'd knocked on my door and told me.

These three people have something in common. They are what you would call ingenuous. They have nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of, and talk innocently about everything. In social situations, they often make others uncomfortable. After all, there are some things you just don't discuss with others, and most people put up walls when it comes to personal information. If you're in a hurry to get somewhere, talking to an ingenuous person could set you back, as it's hard to get a word in edgewise. Yet, they are so friendly, it's difficult to be outright rude.

In spite of these perceived social shortcomings, I have to say that I greatly admire the ingenuous. These are people you can trust--they are not out to screw you, you can lend them money and you will get it back, you can let them look after your house when you are away and nothing will be stolen, and if you need help, they will give it cheerfully and usually selflessly. If they, like my neighbor, are ingenuous in matters of faith as well, then they represent their faith well.

She and I were talking one day. Her children frequently tell her she talks too much, and a lot of people make fun of her religiosity. I can tell it hurts her feelings. And that's another thing--when someone like that is hurt, I feel hurt for them. It's like kicking a puppy.

"I don't understand," she said to me one day. "Why are people so against Christianity?"

I thought for a moment. "Well," I said, "it has more to do with what people have done with Christianity, than about Christianity itself."

"Like what?"

"Oh, like using it as a basis to discriminate against others--gays, divorced people, people who have children out of wedlock, people who aren't Republican...."

She looked puzzled. "I haven't read the Bible, but doesn't Jesus say you're not supposed to judge others? If they hurt you, you pray for them, and leave judging to God?"

I smiled. "Yeah, actually it does say that."

"Then why do people do that?"

I really wasn't sure how to explain it to her. "Because people aren't interested in the teachings of Jesus. They're interested in using the Bible, and the respect people have for it, to push their own agenda."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"No, It doesn't."

"How can they call themselves Christians?"

"A very good question. But that's how the non-Christians in this country see Christians."

I could have explained some of the history and fights over doctrine, and the whole notion of the scientific worldview clashing with literalist views, not to mention the whole mytho--psychological structure. But there was no point. She was confused enough by that one aspect. Her faith was uncluttered by all of this other stuff, and had no pretensions. I was sad the day she decided to buy a study Bible, and was going to try to read it. Most of the time I feel people should be educated in their Scriptures, but I felt she already understood the highlights well enough to fulfill that fourth function of myth (psychological guidance). Reading the Bible, especially the Old Testament, was likely to freak her out. And I think it did. She put it away soon thereafter and didn't go back to it, as far as I know.

In many ways I envy the ingenuous. I've spent years studying, reading, getting degrees, teaching others--and I still feel like they, who often are not very educated--are better at being human beings than those of us who have become cynical about the ways of humans. They've retained the best parts of childhood, and I don't mean that derisively. It's the part I wish I could recapture for myself.

Respect

May 2002. I’m on the 7 local train from Queens to Manhattan. It’s fairly late, and I’m going back to Penn Station to go home. The car stops at Queensboro Plaza, and three tall, young African-American men with obvious gang regalia get into the car with me. We’re the only 4 people in the car. I’m reading a book, but I glance up at them and smile, as is my habit with everyone. One of the young men nods to me, then looks out the window.
He shakes his head. “Some crazy shit going on these days. I don’t know what’s happening with this world.” It’s pretty clear he’s referring to the still rather recent September 11 event.
I nod my head in agreement. “You never know what will happen tomorrow,” I say.

“That’s for damn sure. People just don’t respect each other like they used to, ya know?”

I nod again, and sigh. “Oh yeah, I definitely know.”

He then asks me if I live in Manhattan, I tell him no, I’m heading back to New Jersey.

He and his companions reach their stop. They get up to leave. “Take care,” he says to
me. “Get home safe y’hear?”

I laugh. “Thanks. You too.”

June 1993. I’m a college student, working at the Circulation desk of the public library. The desk staff chats about various things between check-outs. As we stand there chatting, a 16-year-old girl with a long blonde braid approaches me at the desk.
“There is a man in there, right near where I’m working, and he’s looking up this woman’s dress, with his pants down. I am so disgusted, I can’t work there.” She is clearly shaking. As she is speaking to me, the librarian in charge comes out of the main collection room. I call her over, and ask the young lady to explain to her. The librarian listens, and asks the girl if she would be willing to file a police complaint.

“Hell yes, if I have to.”

She goes with the librarian, and makes the complaint. Not ten minutes later, the police come through the front door. We remain at our station, but are curious as hell as to what’s going on. Later, we were told that the police caught the man in the act. (“Um, excuse me sir, what are you doing?”). We did see them bring out the salt-and-pepper-haired businessman in his respectable suit and tie. Of course, everyone looked at him as he was led out. My supervisor gave a derisive grunt. “Just what he wants. Everyone staring at him. What a creep.”

Clothes don't always make the man or woman. Neither does their lifestyle. Consider this question, which has been sent to thousands of e-mail addresses in the last 10 years. You may know this question already:

It's time to elect a new world leader, and only your vote counts. Here are the facts about the three leading candidates.

Candidate A - Associates with crooked politicians, and consults with astrologists. He's had two Mistresses. He also chain smokes and drinks 8 to 10 martinis a day.

Candidate B - He was kicked out of office twice, sleeps until noon, used opium in college and drinks a quart of whiskey every evening.

Candidate C - He is a decorated war hero. He's a vegetarian, doesn't smoke, drinks an occasional beer and never cheated on his wife. Which of these candidates would be your choice?

Almost everyone wants to choose C, as he seems to be the most scrupulous. Then people are surprised to learn that Candidate A describes Franklin Roosevelt, Candidate B describes Winston Churchill, and Candidate C describes Adolph Hitler.

As Aleister Crowley once said, “It may be yonder beggar is a King.” We like to use social norms and expectations as a means of interpreting the world and our interactions with others. Social norms are usually based on xenophobic thinking and shallow judgments. Better to treat everyone with respect and an open mind.