When Atheists Attack

A recent cat fight on Facebook, has apparently centered around Kate Mulgrew, the actress who for seven years, played the role of Captain Katherine Janeway, on the television program Star Trek: Voyager.

It seems that poor Kate (probably very innocently; actors are apparently often misled in the case of such documentaries) agreed to do some introductory voice over work, for a documentary advocating terrestrial geocentrism, or the idea that the Earth is the center of the Universe, which all other celestial bodies revolve around. Apparently, she was then predictably swarmed with various forms of abuse, by the rabidly scientistic and anti-theistic elements within her fan base. This led her to issue a recent recantation of the film, where she acknowledged that she was in no way an advocate of geocentrism.

Speaking more generally, I will admit that it took me a very long time, before I could cease to care about what Richard Dawkins and his underlings think. As tragic as it may be, I now live in a global society where neo-Atheism is largely the default and incumbent philosophical model. For those of us whose personal experience does not permit them the luxury of Atheism, that is a very difficult and socially isolating condition.

As my first post in (and the title of) this blog will probably demonstrate, I have reached a point where I am largely happy to be considered entirely insane by Atheists. This does not mean that I genuinely consider myself to be insane; it simply means that I have freed myself from the need to adhere to their arbitrary definition of sanity. I have ultimately come to the conclusion that the newer, mass-market form of Atheism, is nothing more than yet another opiate for the masses. In that sense, the objective is social control, and the enforcement of conformity with a pre-generated dogmatic model. In reality, genuine truth has very little to do with it, except to the degree to which that they can use their claims of truth to justify themselves, or, to quote Hubbard, "move lots and lots of bodies through the shop."

To answer the more immediate, specific question; am I a geocentrist?  No, but on pondering the question, I realised that the basis of my answer, was not what I consider to be genuinely scientific.  That is to say, I have taken the idea that the Earth and the other planets revolve around the Sun for granted, without attempting in any way to experimentally prove otherwise for myself.  I could cite rational ignorance as an excuse for not doing so, but perhaps I should not.  I acknowledge, however, that if I do plead that excuse, then I forfeit the right to engage in definite advocacy of either position; heliocentrism or geocentrism.

This is a different attitude to that of the armchair atheist, who believes that despite lacking first hand, empirical evidence either way, he is still free to attempt to bludgeon everyone else into accepting the consensus, as long as said consensus has been given to him by the "mainstream scientific community," or other credentialled "experts."  In the past, when Western society was much more widely schooled in Hellenic rhetoric, this would have been known as an example of argumentum ad verecundium.

The importance of guitar smashing

My most recent adventure in theurgical magick, has centered around the Egyptian God Yinepu; who some might know by his Greek name, Anubis.

Although I've run into a couple of them online, I don't consider myself a Khemetic; although at the same time, I've always had a strong interest in Egyptology, (particularly as a child) and have spent a bit of time reading John Anthony West, and R.A. Schwaller.

To a very small degree, Yinepu has been a presence in my life for close to a year, now.  My youngest brother brought back a statue of him from Spain last year, during his trip to Europe, and it is sitting next to my computer monitor as I type.  Up until recently, however, he stayed quiet.  There was the occasional sense of him looking in on me, but nothing more.  As those who work with him more regularly probably know better than I, he is not much of a talker.

A friend of mine, who knows who they are, recently channelled him for me; and from what she said, his arrival was not easy for either of us.  She apparently had to prepare over a period of around three days, during which time I was simultaneously put through a severe emotional wringer as well.

As again, is probably common knowledge for most, Yinepu is a God of death; or a psychopomp.  In his particular case, he does not actually cause death as such, but it is to document his apparent purpose, which motivated me to write this article.

Yinepu seems to primarily be an astral surgeon. His role is to apparently remove those extraneous elements of energy (assocated with attachments, unfulfilled desires, and regrets from life) which become attached to the aetheric body, and which would otherwise hinder or prevent death.

As such, his message to me was not a re-assuring one, but rather a stern warning.  In hindsight, Ebenezer Scrooge's visitation from Jacob Marley, in Dickens' A Christmas Carol came to mind as an appropriate analogy.

I have spent roughly the last two decades on a Disability Support Pension; and for most of that time, have done virtually nothing other than sit in front of a computer within my bedroom.  Yinepu's initial words to me were that I had much potential, which had so far gone almost entirely unrealised, and unutilised.  I'm 37 years old now; and for the next 12 days or so, live with my mother.  I have no partner, no children, perhaps one or two long term friends, most of whom I never see, and my net economic worth, not counting this computer, is around $2,500 AUD.

What was particular interesting, however, was the degree to which Yinepu appeared to be almost entirely morally neutral.  His interest is almost exclusively focused on removing extraneous elements from the aura.  Given what little I had read about the weighing of the heart against the feather of Truth, I had assumed that some sort of arbitrary moral code would be involved.  I was actually told that that was not the case; but that Ma'at in this context at least, rather referred to the degree of authenticity with which a person had lived.  If living authentically meant being authentically evil, then apparently that was irrelevant.  I found that extremely surprising.

The point was not to leave anything undone.  No regrets, no guilt, no unfulfilled desires or dreams; as these were what would get attached to the aetheric body, weigh it down, and prevent or hinder a person's transition after death.

The title of this blog post, is a reference to the above video.  It's an excerpt from the film The Crow, in which the character Eric Draven, who had come back from the dead in order to avenge his murder, plays one last guitar solo before smashing his amplifier, and throwing his guitar off the roof.

I've spent probably the last four hours (which was longer than it should have been) putting together this web page. It's a diagram and explanation for a one chunk branch mine, which was my default mining technique, during the nearly three years that I played Minecraft, which I uploaded to my Web host. Then, with the above video playing in the background, I deleted every trace of Minecraft that I could find on my computer; more than 4 gigabytes, all told; including my local copies of the Web page, the stuff on my laptop, and backups of a map that I had . I will leave the page up on my Web host for a while, since the point was to benefit other people who are still playing it. While I was doing it, I came across the folder of my single player server of World of Warcraft, as well. I admit; deleting that is going to be a lot harder.

We've all got guitars.  In some cases, of course, they're even literal ones.  We can hold onto them for as long as they are useful; but it's good to know when the time has come, with each one, to give yourself one last solo, and then throw them off the roof.

There's another point here for me, as well.  I'm currently three years away from what I at least, have always considered to be the incontrovertible gateway to old age.  At 40, by any reckoning, you can no longer be honestly referred to as young.  This means that, although I'm not terminally ill, I need to start to give serious consideration to the fact that, sooner or later, I am unavoidably going to die; and when I do, 99% of who and what I am, is going to cease to exist.

I don't like death; I never have.  Like almost everyone in this society, I've spent my life attempting to deny the fact that it exists.  Yet I think what Yinepu has been trying to tell me is, that when we deny death, we inevitably also end up denying life.

To quote Bicentennial Man; "Welcome to the human condition."