Time for Another Confession

I’ve . . . well, I was going to write another post, but then realized that I had to write this one first.I’ve a confession to make, something I need to be published, along with my reasoning, for the sake of honesty and transparency.

I voted for Donald Trump. I wasn’t going to, I didn’t want to, and living where I do, it really didn’t matter anyway, but I did. And I’d like to explain why I did so that there is no question later, for good or ill.

Originally, I was a Cruz supporter, because I actually believe in the ideals and ideas behind the Declaration of Independence and The Constitution, I believe they should be upheld, and I though Cruz was the best bet. I liked most of the Repubs running in the primary, to be honest, through was distinctly disliked a few, among them Trump and Jeb who were, to me, the Twinned Pinnacles of Establishment. My initial dislike of Trump was further inflamed by the behavior of many of his supporters among my friends. Their feverish, unquestioning supports was too reminiscent of the 2007-Present support of the Obama-Otaku, and disturbed me greatly. That and I was starting to see and hear things about some of the people that support him that disturbed me. (More on that with a post to follow, regarding my personal look into the “alt-Right”.)

Still, he won the nomination, so after one single day of expressing my dismay after the Convention, I kept my mouth shut. By then, it was looking like Hillary would get the Dem nomination and, despite my misgivings about Trump, I had sorta sworn Eternal Vengeance on Her for Reasons Not Limited to Benghazi. So while I wouldn’t support him, I dang sure well wasn’t going to do anything to help her. He may be a con-man and a swindler, but she’s a conniving, murdering b*tch.

But now a new dynamic started up, and (almost) all my lefty friends started working to Do Their Part for Her! The sheer amount of casual bigotry, hatred, lying and blithe-passing-along-of-lies that I saw every single damn day so disgusted and sickened me, that I started considering voting for Trump just because they didn’t want me to. But I didn’t want my vote to be decided by spite (I may have sorted Slytherin, but acting on emotion is not really considered Best Practices among our House). So, being the (somewhat) decent Catholic girl that I am, I prayed about it. And I mean, on my knees, with actual tears, begging God to let me know how to exercise my civic duty without completely offending Him. I begged, “Lord, please, just, hit me with a rock or something, You know how flipping clueless I am. . .

For months, I assumed that when I got into the booth, I would go third party. Despite that Johnson and Weld were sh*t Libertarians, and awful candidates, I was reasonably sure they’d get my vote. Otherwise, the choice seemed between Civil War (Trump), or Wold Wide Nuclear War (Hillary). Both seemed really quite awful. But still, I prayed.

And on Thursday, 03 November 2016, that prayer was answered, via the work of Wikileaks. Mind you, I don’t entirely trust Wikileaks, don’t entirely trust Mr. Assange, not as far as motives are concerned. Perhaps I’m too cynical to believe that their motives are as stated. But I also acknowledge their pretty-damn-sterling record in terms of accuracy of their releases. So, what was it in the releases that caught my eye? Well, if you’re familiar with any of my older writings, you would likely guess the whole Spirit Cooking thing. And you’d be right.

Spirit Cooking is the term used for the Occultic Work of Marina Abramovich. This is the sort of thing that Alex Jones has been raving about, and even I (who should have known better!) dismissed. But now we had actual evidence. No longer hearsay, we now have video, emails, actual evidence to back up all the worst emails . . . These following video is disturbing, but it is still just an intro to the subject:

And I can’t believe I’m actually adding an InfoWars vid, but this is also useful:

Myself, I didn’t really need the explanations, or the quotes. I just needed one email and two pictures, before I recognized the sick-sweet, metallic smell of hardcore, black occultism. Likewise the fetid morass that results from prolonged exposure to such ritual.  I always skirted the edges in terms of organized occultism, was never directly involved with any group save for some like-minded over the internet and, of course, K-Sensei. But the groups I knew of in New Orleans had no interest for me, nor I for them. But. . . I was aware of them. And I know their scent.

While I was never personally involved with such groups, I am not a stranger to the use of pain and blood, my own at least. Only ever in very small quantities, used as amplifier and seal. But this. . .

This was Whole ‘Nother Level of Evil. This was the Rock that I’d asked the Lord to toss at my cranium, and it hit with a resounding Gongggggg! It was no longer a matter of not supporting Her, it was now imperative that She, and those around Her, be kept out of the White House. Is Trump of the same “elite” set? Maybe. The difference was that now we had proof that one side definitely was into some Very Bad Things, but only speculation-by-association for the other. She had to be kept out, no matter how much I was not a fan of Trump.

So, I voted for him, even though I felt my stomach turn as a I did so. And when, against all my expectation, he won, I determined to withhold further judgement until after his inauguration– just as I did in 2008 when Obama won despite my meaningless opposition. I don’t trust politicians, or much of anyone in a position of “power”. So of course I’ll keep an eye on him.

But having Her at least temporarily out of the picture is a Good Thing, no matter how his time turns out.

A Great Upending in the Year of Mercy

Yes, it’s been quite a while. Which will be sort-of addressed in the following paragraphs.

2015 was a year of internal change. Of figuring out my goals, my direction (or lack thereof), of realizing my vocation (at long-bloody-last!). In mid December, I knew what items I needed to really change things in 2016: A good planner, and a couple good books on organizing one’s life. Because if there’s one thing the developments of 2015 showed me, it’s that I had no organization in my life, and was getting horribly overwhelmed every time I tried to get things together. I needed guidance, a system, something to keep me from drowning in my own chaos. [I’m very good with chaos, but Chaos is, almost paradoxically, a static state. Chaos may grow, but it never progresses. Likewise with the other extreme, perfect order, because the only perfect order, the only perfect peace, is the heat-death of the universe. So, also not-desired. What is needed is the careful balance of Chaos and Order, the friction of which provides movement in a direction.

So. First I found the Top-Down Planner. It was a bit pricier than I expected for a planner, but I could tell that this was exactly the sort of organization and focus I needed. Basically, instead of  devoting all the space to schedule with maybe a small little square for goals, this planner devotes most of its space to your working out and planning your goals, with a schedule space at the bottom of the pages. I find the space is sufficient for my scheduling needs, but the focus on goals is fantastic.

After shopping around both online and off-line, I found nothing that even came close to this focus and layout. So I went with it. It came in last week, and I’ve been working with it ever since. I love it!  I spent a couple of days last week just working on the first pages, where it takes you through a series of exercises designed to first help you identify the values you life your life by, and then the goals you have for your life. The results of these exercises are then used to set the focus for the rest of the year, first on a month-by month basis, then as a week-by week basis, around which you then schedule your days. This focus on life values and life goals really helps to highlight which parts of your life are the most personally fulfilling, and which are just filling time. The Goal focus of the planner has already really helped me focus my own efforts around my selected goals, and the steps needed to progress toward their achievement.It has also started the crisis of the week, though it’s a good and necessary crisis. I’ll get to that in a minute.

Second, I found two highly rated (on Amazon) organization guides, both by Jennifer Ford Berry– Organize Now! A week-by-week guide to simplify your space and your life, and Organize Now! Think and Live Clutter-Free; A week-by-week plan for a happier, healthier life. I purchased them because they were highly rated, spiral bound, took things in small increments over the course of the year, and started with organizing one’s self before organizing one’s space. The first two weeks of the first book are “Organize your mind & Life Vision”, and “Organize Your Priorities”. The first two weeks of the second are “Organize Your Priorities”, and “Organize a Vision Board.” You can see there’s some overlap (and, they both dovetail very nicely with the work being done in the planner). Each week is only a few pages long, and includes checklists of things to think about, schedule, or do. I sit down on Sunday evenings and read the chapter for the coming week. If there are things to schedule, I add them to my planner. Otherwise, I just think them over for the next week, implement what I can, and then on Saturday evening, evaluate the developments of the week and where to go from there.

As you might imagine, this has lead to my goals and priorities being on my mind quite a bit over the past month, and especially over the past two weeks. What am I supposed to accomplish in this life? Why am I getting nowhere with the things I really feel a need to do?

When I was working on the initial pages of the planner, I ended up setting out 4 Goals. [I should note first, in case you don’t know me personally, or haven’t known me personally for a long time, that I often tend to think and express myself in symbolic terms. Not everything I say is meant to be understood literally. Sometimes I’m short-handing big concepts or ideas. Sometimes my expression is halfway between symbolic and literal, or both. I guess it’s understood through context. Or asking me. That works, too . . . sometimes.] The 4 Goals I set out were 1) Maintain/ Enhance Life Order, including Finances (because nothing else will work out well if the bottom falls out of everything), 2) Become a Ninja, 3) Establish the Clan and 4) Establish and Promote the Ninja-verse Fandom. There is a significant amount of overlap between some of these, but that’s okay.

Clearly, “Become a Ninja” is not exactly literal. But it’s not purely symbolic, either. It’s a list of things I want to learn, or become proficient at, to be more self-sufficient, and more capable of being of use in an emergency situation (this is where my physical fitness goals are categorized). To be more the person that gives aid, than the person that needs aid. “Establish the Clan” is about family and homesteads, the philosophical and physical needs of establishing and maintaining family connections and networks (and yes, there are steps involving finding Prince Charming-future-co-Clan-Chief). “Ninja-verse fandom” is all about my writing, which is something I love, even when scenes are frustrating me. I’ve always loved telling stories– childhood friends may remember that I’ve always loved telling stories. I love all the work that goes into crafting a good story– the research, the world building, the character creation, the plotting, time lining, the actual scene and chapter writing. Telling and writing stories is, I think, my vocation. It’s what I’m supposed to do. To play with ideas and express them as adventure, as romance, as Ninjas-in-Space! Awww yeah!

Once these goals are set out, and steps listed for each, there comes the inevitable process of comparing what one has been doing, to the goals and steps written down. What are your current commitments, and how well do they match up with your goals and needs? For instance, on average, adult humans need 7 hours of sleep a night. This is true for me, so I need to be getting to bed no later than the 9:30-10PM time-frame. Also, I am very much an introvert– I need time alone, time to let go of everything and re-charge. Any chore that adds mental stress negates the fact of being alone. These are things that can’t be changed– they can be “Dealt with”, but cannot be changed. I have to work 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, and have to go to church on the weekend. These are the non-negotiable items. This means that all mornings except Saturday are booked solid, from the start, with maybe some room on the occasional Sunday if I go to Mass on Saturday evening.

So. . . all of this has been on my brain. Then a Mormon friend posted this article to her facebook feed: When We Try to One-Up the Lord’s Standards: Culture vs. Commandments. I’m not Mormon myself, but I still really resonated with a lot of what the author had to say. I am intimately acquainted with the feeling that I’m not doing enough, that I’m constantly falling short of what the Lord desires of me, that I should always be striving to do more for the Lord. That I’m not devoting enough time or resources to charitable endeavors, to helping others. So this article got things really ticking in my brain– perhaps part of my problem is not that I’m not doing enough for the Lord, but rather that my a priori definition of Doing the Lord’s Work has somehow included: “Whatever you’re doing, if you enjoy it, it’s Not the Lord’s Work. If it’s not directly working with the Poor, it’s Not the Lord’s Work.” You can see where this might become problematic. Not everyone is called to serve the Lord in the same ways. Bot somehow, my understanding of such work was narrowed down to the High-School Service Hours definition. Working at a soup kitchen, or a homeless shelter would count, but freely contributing what small amount of Beauty I could into the world most assuredly did not. No amount of singing for free could amount to one hour in a soup kitchen. My writing, or work on it, would never count because no matter what I wrote, no matter what theological ideas I worked with and tried to express, it wasn’t directly helping the poor, and in addition, I plan to try to sell the stories, and if any money is made, then it’s right out of consideration.  But not to sing, and not to write, was to squander the Talents He gave me. So, I had to do both, and the soup kitchen and homeless shelter and more, because the Gifts I was given were not, by my definition, suitable for His Work. (We’ll not even talk about the spiritual angst involved with not having started a family yet. That’s a whole other can of tangled worms. . .)

Yes, I see now how stupid it was to be thinking such things. I suspect, however, I am far from the only person to have fallen into this trap. We elevate charitable work, but have such a narrow view of what “counts”. . .

Then, David Bowie died. Then Alan Rickman died. Two men who wielded immense influence over my development as a musician and as a storyteller.  Both were severe shocks, and surprisingly personal losses. Bowie was the man who influenced the men who influenced me, the root cause, so to speak, of my development as an artist. His ceaseless exploration of ideas and self, no matter how weird or unusual, is the root of my ceaseless exploration of ideas and self. I am no Bowie, but in the end, I learned the pursuit of Truth No Matter What from him. Rickman portrayed some of my favorite villains, as well as Metatron and Professor Snape. His portrayals of his characters, from Hans Gruber, to the Sheriff of Nottingham, Metatron, and my beloved Professor, helped me learn how to craft characters of interest and depth. Both deaths were unexpected, seemingly sudden, a painful reminder of the ticking clock. . .

. . . And of those goals that need addressing. . . an indication that one cannot “wait for life to sort itself out” to get on with what one should be doing. I cannot wait– I spend so much of the year saying “things will calm down once ______ has passed, then I’ll get ______ done”, only to find that the expected calm never comes. It’s one thing after another– End of Fiscal Year, this holiday, that big convention, this other event. . .  things never calm down, because after every event, all the things I was desperately postponing crowd back in. It’s too much, not if I’m to accomplish what I’m supposed to accomplish. I’m constantly juggling commitments– all things I enjoy, but not all actually furthering any of my goals. My house is a mess because I have no regular time for chores. My fitness progress is always stalled because too many days, I chose between working out (and thus not having time to make my own meals), or making healthy meals (and not having time to work out). I don’t get to sit down to write until 8 or 9 pm (or 10 or 11pm), by which time my brain is so tired I hardly can type a sentence.

Yesterday, I made a list of all my Not-Work and not Actual Church Service Commitments, and the frequency of these commitments. They are as follows:

  1. Choir 1 — weekly plus concerts
  2. Choir 2 — weekly plus certain holidays
  3. Charitable Organization — monthly, plus additional
  4. Charitable Organization 1a — monthly
  5. Big Convention — yearly, plus ~ 1 week, plus sick time after
  6. Little Convention — yearly, plus ~ 1 week
  7. Community Emergency Response Team 1, Local level — quarterly
  8. Community Emergency Response Team 2, County level — monthly
  9. Community Emergency Response Team 2, State level — monthly
  10. Community Emergency Response Team 3, State level — monthly
  11. Exercise/ Physical fitness — daily, except Sunday

Yes, there is scheduled time for expected illness. (sigh). These can also be broken down as follows:

  1. Daily Commitments: 1
  2. Weekly Commitments: 2
  3. Monthly commitments: 5
  4. Quarterly Commitments: 1
  5. Yearly Commitments: 2

Two commitments in a day means I cannot cook, or do other household chores for that day, as the whole day will be spent in commitments and the driving to and from them. More than 2 days of 2 commitments in a week starts to effect diet, exercise, sleep, chores, and anything else I might possibly try to be doing with my life for the entire week. Missed sleep is not made up until maybe Saturday but, sleep too late on Saturday, and that cuts into the one day I have to catch up on everything else. If you look at the frequency breakdowns, you can see how this starts to become a problem. My weekly commitments plus my physical fitness needs max me out at the beginning, but then 5 monthly commitments means 1-2 additional commitments per week, plus quarterly and yearly when they come around.

This is untenable, but it’s how I’ve been going about my life for some time. Taking the first list, I compared it to my goals. Some of them fit into my goals. Some do not. I enjoy all of them– it’s the only reason I do them. I enjoy what I’m doing and I love the people I’m with. . . but I’ve got to cut back. Some things, those that are part of some of my goals, can be scaled back a bit (and to heck with anyone who gives me crap about it. Seriously, screw ’em.), some other things may have to go entirely. For commitments I’ve made through the end of February, I’ll be keeping almost all of those, because I don’t want to bail on people with such short notice. But beyond that. . . there will be cutbacks and cut-outs. Simply because there are things I’m supposed to be doing, but I’m so over-committed, that it’s a special occasion when I make any progress at all with them. And my health can’t take it– I can’t get in shape if I don’t have time to exercise, time to clean my house ,time to defrost my freezer so my fridge will work again, time to make my own meals, time to get my needed hours of sleep. . .

So, look. . . to everyone who will soon be seeing less of me: I am sorry. Please believe, this isn’t because I don’t like what we’ve been doing. And this isn’t because I’m “pussing out.” I will definitely miss these things, and the people involved, but these cuts have to be made. This is because I have my own priorities, my own goals, and I have to pursue them. There’s no point to my life if I do otherwise.

2 Dreams from the Past

It seems much of my impetus for non-fiction writing recently is my conversations with ChrissyTheHyphenated. In the combox for post Why a Rapture, I wrote of my dream about my someday-to-be-dog-friend, Anubis. As I wrote, I recalled another dream, definitely Revelations flavored, and featured a grassy hill. So, I’m gonna write about it, and then as a bonus, relate a funny dream that only Grunt and Lephael have known about until this point.

Dream 1: This was dreamed about 12-13 years ago. At the time, I hadn’t studied much at all in the way of prophecy (Christian or otherwise), but I dang well knew about angels, as angelology was a hobby of the time.

I’m standing on a field, the grass a bright, rich green. Bright like the sun is shining on it. The sky is dark and clear– not quite night-time dark, but I can see the stars in my peripheral vision. I’m looking at the horizon, at my eleven o’clock. From beyond the horizon, I see two fireworks shoot up and explode, one white, one red. The burning flecks radiate out, but instead of dissipating and falling, they elongate and grow brighter, becoming missile-like things headed right for where I (and others) are.

Somehow I know that they aren’t missiles, even before the unfurl/unfold. I know almost immediately that they are angels– the red are Seraphim (because Seraphim burn, yanno, so red), the white are Cherubim (because the cherubim–not putti!– are very intellectual sorts. Logic and Reason. Clear. White).

So, these angels come and land on the field, and line all us humans up into queues– one Seraph facing the head of each line, multiple Cherubim managing each line. I’m so distracted by all the angels all around (because Angels! Pretty! Shiny!!!) that I don’t pay attention to what’s happening at the front of the lines as we shuffle through. Before I realize it, I’m at the head of the line, with something coming right at my head.

On instinct, I lift my left hand to my forehead to block, and get a handful of sealing wax, imprinted with a design I can’t exactly remember. Part of the wax seal is on my forehead, but most of it is in the palm of my left hand. The Seraph with the self-waxing stamp gives me a level look as I mutter “Oh, crap! I’ll never be able to use this hand again!”

The Cherub to my right gently pats my shoulder with a somewhat rueful look. “It’s okay,” he says. “We all know who you are and where you go.” The implication is that I have something of a reputation among the angels, and that reputation is something along the lines of “Easily distracted, somewhat flaky klutz.” As I can think of far worse reputations, I don’t mind.

The Seraph huffs at the Cherub, and the latter points me to a hillside not that far away, and says “Your friends are over there.” I go, somewhat gingerly cradling my left hand, and sit down next to some very good friends of mine, who pass me a bread-basket full of popcorn. “We got good seats,” one says. “We’ll be able to see everything!”

End of Dream 1

Dream 2: I’m adding this because it’s funny and deals again with angels– or a rather specific one in this case. First, before we get to the dream, if you’re not familiar with Michigan J Frog, you need to be familiar with this:

The running joke with the frog is that he only ever sings in front of that one guy– if anyone else comes along, he reverts back to normal frog behavior. And then starts singing again when they go away.

This dream happened in late May of 2004– I was in the hospital, the first time I’d stayed overnight in a hospital, in the process of being diagnosed with cancer. I was not yet relocated to the “cancer ward”, still in the general unit with a roommate that was, I think, dying. I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on– they’d run enough tests to seriously alarm the docs, but the biopsy wasn’t to happen until the next day. But they wanted to keep me, because they were afraid that I’d slip into respiratory arrest at any moment.

So, being the amateur angelologist that I was, I knew that when you were sick or in need of healing, the number one angel to ask for was Raphael. He’s known a the Divine Physician, the Top Angel when it comes to Healing. He also has a reputation as being the “chummiest”, “most approachable”, and “goofiest” of the angels.

So that night, I finished out my nighttime prayers with the following: “And, God, if it isn’t too much trouble, and if he’s got a spare moment or two after his real work, and if it’s okay by You, tell Raphael he’s always welcome to come by. Even the smallest bit of help would be deeply appreciated. Thanks.”

That said, I snuggled down and went to sleep.

I dreamed I woke again in that same room, and in came Raphael, bright and shining, dressed in a tux with tails, and spats, and a top hat and cane and white gloves, singing that same song and dancing that same dance as the frog! Followed by all his Malachim helpers!

It was so ridiculously silly that I started giggling uncontrollably, and woke myself up I was giggling so hard! From that moment on I knew I’d be okay. It was something I couldn’t explain to the doctors or nurses, or even my distraught mother and father– though I did tell mom years later. I knew I’d be okay, because Raphael came by and made me laugh (it is the best medicine, after all).

And he seriously is the goofiest angel, ever. [Even keeping in mind that he whupped Asmodeus’ butt barehanded and locked him in the desert until the end of time. Mmhmm! He’s not one of The Magnificent Seven for nothing, you know!]

Do Not Be Taken In By False Choices!

The news today is all about an “Accomodation” the White house is proposing in the whole Birth Control Mandate Dabacle. I hope and pray no one falls for this. Here’s how it’s being described:

One source familiar with the decision described the accommodation as “Hawaii-plus,” insisting that it’s better than the Hawaii plan – for both sides.

In Hawaii the employer is responsible for referring employees to places where they can obtain the contraception; Catholic leaders call that material cooperation with evil. But what the White House will likely announce later today is that the relationshio between the religious employer and the insurance company will not need to have any component involving contraception. The insurance company will reach out on its own to the women employees. This is better for both sides, the source says, since the religious organizations do not have to deal with medical care to which they object, and women employees will not have to be dependent upon an organization hostile to that care in order to obtain it.

This announcement would not go that far. Sources say it will involve health insurance companies helping to provide the coverage, since it’s actually cheaper for these companies to offer the coverage than to not do so, because of unwanted pregnancies and resulting complications.

Rick Moran adds:

Basically, the White House is offering a sleight of hand solution, allowing Catholic organizations to deliberately turn the other way when insurance companies offer the coverage, thus “sparing” them the burden of having to offer it themselves.

Let me make something clear. There are two ways to sin– by commission and by ommission. Commision is doing something sinful. Omission is failing to even try to prevent sin when you have the ability to stop it, or failing to do something you ought to be doing. It works like this: If you murder someone, you have sinned by commission. If you see someone being murdered, and take no action to stop it, you sin by omission. The second is equally as severe a sin as the first. Got it? [My own failings on some issues condemn me, I fear, as I have not been as zealous in my duties as I should have been.]

So, what the WH is offering here, is basically this: “Instead of forcing you to sin by commission, we’re offering the option of sinning by omission instead.”

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Our Lady of Vailankanni

Meandering through the Crypt Church under the Shrine, I was thinking a lot on my friends Grunt and Shalini. One little chapel in particular really brought Shalini to mind– the Chapel for Our Lady of Vailankanni.

Standing just outside the chapel of Our Lady of Vailankanni

Visiting The Shrine

Around these parts, when a Catholic like yours truly talks about going to the Shrine, what they mean is “I’m going to visit the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception.”

I was down there all last night because they were taping the masses for shut-ins, and my church choir was the choir for those two dates (3rd and 5th Sunday of this upcoming Lent). They have the masses in the Crypt Church, which is one of my favorite places on the planet. If the upstairs is all Majesty, the downstairs Crypt Church is all Mystery.

I took some pictures with my cell phone of some of my favorite things. A friend was taking some others, and I’m hoping she emails me copies to add.

Oh, and there will be another post coming up right after this with a set that goes together.

Pictures after the break ^_^!

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Speaking of Contraception . . .

The Anchoress points out a surprising source for support of the Church’s teaching re: Birth Control– Business Insider, of all places!

Here’s a tasty bit:

Today’s injunctions against birth control were re-affirmed in a 1968 document by Pope Paul VI called Humanae VitaeHe warned of four results if the widespread use of contraceptives was accepted:

  1. General lowering of moral standards
  2. A rise in infidelity, and illegitimacy
  3. The reduction of women to objects used to satisfy men. 
  4. Government coercion in reproductive matters. 

Does that sound familiar? 

Because it sure sounds like what’s been happening for the past 40 years.

As is said, read the whole thing!

To be honest, I used to be a lot more laissez-faire about the issue myself. After all, if God wanted you to have a kid, it would happen– both myself and my little brother were conceived while our mother was using birth control.

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Madonna, Removing All Doubt

Two weeks ago, I posted a weird YouTube about Britney Spears, Madonna, and some odd mind-control theory. I was skeptical about a lot of it, but a fair amount made sense, due to my “Questionable Past.” When I heard that Madonna was doing the Super Bowl Halftime Show again this year, I thought it would be a good time to check the theory. I would watch and, wither it would fit the “Occult Ritual Pattern” in some way, or it wouldn’t. I expected to have to give some thought to it. But she couldn’t have been more blatant.

The following video gets some of it– I thinking I might do a more thorough analysis this evening, if I can.There’s a lot more here than even this person saw.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RQSwSX-kg1k

 

Oh, Can’t you see what Love has done?

I think this is my favorite music video ever. Naturally, from my absolute Favoritest Rock Band EVAR!!!, U2.

A lot of people don’t realize that very early in their career, U2 albums tended to be filed by record sellers under “Christian/ Gospel”, because their lyrics were so very religious– even in Latin for one song (That would be “Gloria”, from the October album). Well, at the time, “Christian” music meant a very limited audience, and the band wanted to be heard by more people than that. They realized that if they replaced “Jesus” with “You”, or even “Love”, suddenly they were listed under Rock. All while the meanings remained the same, especially if people took the time to examine the lyrics. I don’t know how many other rock bands write songs about the Holy Spirit (Mysterious Ways), or the Last Supper from the point of view of Judas (Until the End of the World), but there you go.

What makes this video so touching, aside from the song, is the tribute it pays to so many other musicians and artists, across genres and times. Very, very nice.