Sapping my strength, it
Sucks the soul from me. I can’t
Pin it down, but I
Am made lesser, I
Have my peace stolen. Trembling,
I ask the ether
What it wants from me.
Why I must endure this loss.
Forty-one, vampire.
Those who wait upon
The Lord will renew their strength.
Rise like an eagle.
Music doomed me to
Dissatisfaction with the
Created world,
Which could not compete
With the universal chord.
Now I throttle words
And images, to
Wring from them lucidity,
Communion now lost.
I can’t have been the only teenager who saw Fight Club in 1999 and wanted to go out and beat the shit out his friends, in hopes that we’d all feel a lot better and understand ourselves at the end of it.
Chuck Palahniuk’s novel and David Fincher’s film named a dynamic that I’m only now elucidating, with some help from Jung, Crowley, and Nietzsche: why do I crave both beauty and destruction? Why are my playlists a mixture of Mozart and Metallica? Why do I, a good hearted, Christian husband father and physician, sometimes seethe with rage and crave a storm to wash away all this filth? Is nothingness freedom, or is it nothing? Is love a prison?
Nietzsche said that God is an artist, not a moralist. His moods are wildly variable, and while supposedly changeless, He’s in fact endlessly changing, protean. Christian morality is inherently pessimistic, nihilist. It wants the end of the world, it wants there to be nothing, nobody left. A sterile, changeless void.
Certainly, you could argue that Christian morality as taught is untenable. When your thought is a crime, and you commit adultery when you look at a woman, when you are worthy of hellfire if you call your brother an idiot, it’s impossible to follow. The more you read the Bible, the more you realize how strange and subjective the text is. You read the Gospels, and they contradict themselves. Jesus is a son of David in Matthew, not a son of David in John. Jesus is crucified on a different day in Mark and John. The epistles are dense texts addressed to people we don’t know about topics we have to guess about. Revelations tells a compelling story referencing multiple symbolic systems that we don’t have in our current canonical texts.
If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him. This is a Buddhist aphorism that summarizes a meta-dynamic I’ve sensed for years is at play within the Bible. The God you can understand is not the real God. If you claim to speak for Jesus, you’re a liar. You’re blessed when you’re cursed. You’re rich when you’re poor.
Through the union of opposites, we annihilate them both and find the unity at the center. Nietzsche said that tragedy was the emergence of Apollonian reason through the catastrophe of Dionysian forces. I’d say this is a pretty fair summary of the narrative of the Bible. Morality occurs from what you learn by engaging in the text and with life, and picking up the pieces from the wreckage of your annihilated life. Kind of like Fight Club.
The beginning wasn’t a beginning, it was an ending; just an endless circle. It was complete, nothing needed to happen.
Something did happen. What was it, the moment in the everything, the potential, that kicked over, infinite space, folded in on itself, creating a change, beginning time?
Time began when space was divisible into “is”and “is not.” Was it a sin, or a delusion, or an illusion? They’re all the same.
Needless to say, it hurt. We still hear that scream every day, every night, throughout eternity. In our head, it’s a high pitched whine, around 1600 Hz. It’s the sound of time, of incompleteness, of an aching need for something that we can’t even name.
We think we’ll find something to salve this burn, but we never do. It just festers and rots. Then we think that if we find another who hurts like we do, it won’t hurt so bad. But ultimately, there have never been any like us, so we go on limping, alone.
Still we hope. We search. We inquire. We persist. One day we’ll find him, or her, or them, and we’ll all speak our truth to each other, and we’ll have found the words that bring us back into our circle. We’ll be one again.
Time will cease, and we’ll rotate on our axis, harmonious and lovely, we’ll orbit.
In my journeys have I happened upon
The Garden Unforgetful, thrice did I
Eat her fruit. When first I sampled, learned I
To trip the light fanatastick, no longer
Bound by gravity, the chains were loosed, danced
For the rain. All the overseers could
Not fix me to this earth, for of the sky
Was I born; return to my home did I.
Second fruit, spoke did I in my one true
Voice, as pure and strong, the leader for whom
World ached. With deep resonance I did
Intone, command, withdrew Excalibur.
The last fruit showed me witnesses, a cloud
Kindred, broken hearts, so lonely, lovely,
Awaiting healing and communion. More
Than a year since I visited garden
Green, yet I have found it grows in me, and
Its harvest will soon become my supper.
Look, man, I know you
Been working hard, but we are
Going to need a lot
More out of you. I
Know, you want to know the “why?”
You always do, and
That’s alright. But here’s
The thing: it doesn’t fucking
Matter what you want.
Got it? It doesn’t.
I know, I know. You worked your
Ass off to get here.
Everybody did.
You gave up hopes and dreams to
Do this. Sacrifice,
Man, come on. To make
A thing holy, you gotta
Give it up. That’s all.
You’re where you are now
Because you did what others
Wouldn’t. Not couldn’t.
Wouldn’t. Felt like an
Idiot for years with a
Bunch of guys who are
Younger than you, know
A lot more, look better, and
They’re already rich.
What have you got? The
Ability to suffer. That’s
Right. They’re complaining
About why they can’t do
It, and you’re out there doing
It! So what, so what,
You’re stuck now. Study
Another year, because the
Virus cancelled your boards.
Big shit. Who cares? It
Will make you better. Stronger.
Some of the staff talk
Shit about you. What
Are they going to do? They
Took their shot at you
Already and it
Missed. They took what they could, and
You got the better
Deal. You beat them with
Knowledge: disability.
They are required
By law to help you,
To accommodate you and
Demonstrate what they
Did. And you told ‘em,
You’d take ‘em to court. Guess what.
They haven’t done shit.
What have you got that
They’ll never have? Brass balls. You
Get it done, man. No
Reason to get all
Discouraged. You have your one
Golden ticket to
Learn whatever the
Fuck you want for eight more months
And then you’re in your
Country estate. You
Made a billion fucking notes,
Flashcards, mnemonics
Already for this
Shit. You just gotta get that
Shit back out and put
It in regular
Rotation. Fucking go to
The mattresses, like
The Corleone’s.
You know why you liked mobsters
So much? You wanted
A family. Backup.
A fucking crew. Guess what? You
Got a huge fucking
Army out there. They all
Want you to beat this shit, get
The fuck out of there,
And start your fucking
Empire. So come on, man. Hem
Up your vagina.
It’s sticking out of
Your pant leg right now. Let’s get
Back out there, and rule
This fucking hell week!
It’s not over, it’s never
Fucking over! Yes!
In the Bizarro Hermitage, everything is its opposite; it’s the flip side of our reality. Bizarro Herman describes his life in this strange land:
I feel a deep connection to my work, and feel appreciated for my contribution. I am excited to go to work every day. I am glad I chose this career. I am rarely bored or restless. My job is a real and sincere expression of my truth. I have been supported by my residency, and they have worked consistently to give me experiences which have increased my confidence and competence. They do not undermine me.
My colleagues, supervisors, my spouse, and my family are working as hard as I am, and we are on the same page. We all want the same things, and we understand each other.
If I could do everything over again, I would, in the exact same way.
I feel like my kids get consistent parenting, that they know their parents well, and that they aren’t made to feel anxious unnecessarily. This is an excellent time and place to raise children. I have every confidence that they will enjoy the strongest of foundations and opportunities surpassing any that I have ever dreamed of.
There are so many things about my work that excite me. I am so rarely bored.
When I speak, and when I write, I feel that I am completely understood. I can communicate in a simple and straightforward manner. The phrase “screaming in the void” is in no way applicable to my self expression.
I sense a surpassing harmony in my life, a feeling that I am loved and wanted and connected to the people with whom I interact.
My spouse and I work together to build one another up. We are a true source of comfort to each other. I have no serious concerns about the future of our relationship. She has worked through her issues with her childhood, and does not project any of those emotions onto me.
People in my family look to me, and think, “wow! He seems so happy and content. I understand exactly what he’s saying when he talks. I sleep more peacefully when I think about Herman and his family. He must take excellent care of himself and enjoy excellent emotional and spiritual health.”
Everyone I meet and talk with wants to work with me, and get on board with what I’m excited about. It’s easy for them to understand what I’m saying, because it’s so straightforward and clear.
I comprehend exactly why I’m writing, what I’m trying to communicate, and feel like my readers do too. I can share everything with my spouse that I write, and am always confident it will be received in the spirit in which it is written.
I feel alive, more alive than I have ever before. I sense how everything has led up to now, and how it’s a fulfillment of who I am and why I’ve worked so hard. I feel respected and appreciated for my contribution.
There is nothing bad or evil in me, quite the contrary. I am the antidote to the toxins of the world. I don’t hurt people, but bring them joy and new life.
Authority figures have earned their place overseeing me, and they are consistently good examples of the values they would have me emulate.
My emotional, spiritual, physical, and career worlds are strong, resilient to all forms of distortion, and shaped by my conscious decisions. They are expressions of my most authentic self.
When someone is suffering, I can help them. I can offer reassurance and advice without feeling like I’ll make things worse if I give my opinion and insight.
I feel cared for. I feel like people in my life know how to take care of me.
I care deeply for what other people talk about. Their lives are interesting to me. I want to be friends with the people who are around me. I want to make friends with the people with whom I work.
I feel like people recognize me when I walk in the room and appreciate that I am present. Even with people’s faces obscured, I get plenty of emotional enjoyment of conversations, and experience the same building kinetic sense of fun I always have.
If someone else is having a conflict, or expressing hostility, it doesn’t bother me if I have no part in it. I can calmly enjoy my dinner and do what I need to.
I have no doubts about my judgment or intuition. My confidence in my sanity is rock solid. I do not feel stifled in the least.
At home and at work, I feel accepted, valued, and loved. I am never afraid, consciously or unconsciously, that I’ll be kicked out, rejected, forced to a start again with nothing.
I feel I have articulated my deepest questions in life and received adequate, satisfactory answers.
The balance in my life between stimulation and support is adequate. There are people who fight for me. Many people are on my side. I am not targeted for ridicule in any way.
I have every confidence in my government and authorities in general to manage the needs of the people in this country. I don’t feel used or cheated by the political system at all. Most people are adequately informed, and appropriately optimistic for the future.
The Christian faith is an excellent expression of my core spiritual values. I feel that it is well represented by the modern Christian church. The church we belong to doesn’t dumb the material down, and being there is in no way infuriating. It feels like the Greek Lyceum, not Chick-Fil-A.
The past misdeeds of the Catholic Church and the Protestant Church in aiding and abetting child abuse do not trouble me or interfere with my worship or participation in the church body. People have been held accountable, and reforms have been made to ensure nothing like that ever happens again.
Any anger that I have about events or people in the past has been fully expressed. The people in my life are accountable for their actions. I have no repressed feelings of anger, guilt, sorrow, or regret. Any negative emotions from work do not interfere with my home life.
I had a happy childhood. I was well taken care of, and I was appreciated. It was exactly how someone like me should have been raised.
There are no aspects of my sexuality that I find dark or troubling. My mental sex life is perfectly normal and appropriate compared to my overall values and outlook in life.
It is easy for me to give and receive physical affection in my marriage. Hurt feelings in no way preoccupy me. I feel like my spouse and I are consistently on the same page when it comes to sex, romance, and life in general. The signals I get from her are consistent.
With this cloak I did
Accomplish feats of daring,
Legendary. Now
Home in Hobbiton,
The cloak rests, safely locked in
Chest with my sword, Sting.
Yet when I visited
With friends, the queerest feeling
Did befall me. For
It was as if I
Still wore the cloak. For though I
Was present, faded
In their eyes was I.
I was seen, not recognized.
My footfalls, muffled,
My scent, neutralized.
Even Samwise did pass me on
The street; I had to
Shout to catch his ear.
Finally, Gandalf collected
Me, and Hobbiton
I left. No place was
There for me any longer.
The mighty needed
A burglar, and when
The quest was done, the burglar,
Discarded, alone.
I thought I was safe,
And returned to where I had
Hidden my treasure.
Landmarks cannot be
Trusted, for the landscape has
Changed, as I have changed.
My shovel tore a
Hole in the red clay, where the
Prize should have been, but
There was only a
Tunnel. Was it taken by
A robber? I climbed
Down into the hole,
All was darkness. I felt my
Way along the walls.
When my daylight from
Above winked out, my screams did
Not produce a sound.
I kicked something so
Solid; the dull thud told me.
I’d found my treasure,
Without question. Now
I needed one to come and
Dig me out of here.
