Skinned Alive

Okay, so I promised I would tell you how the fur protest went. It was amazing! We had a great media turnout. Radio stations were talking about us all morning leading up to it. Rock 101 even made a morning hour jingle about what we would be doing :) I'm glad so much attention was paid, but hopefully it was for the cause not the nudity. Just to review, we were protesting Pappas Furs located in the Aberdeen Center in Richmond. 80% of furs come from China where there's no regulations in effect to protect the animals used. This means they can get away with cruelty in the industry. Sometimes domesticated animals are even stolen or picked up if lost and used for fur! The Canadian Fur Council tried to say after this protest in interviews with the press that we were misinformed or spreading propaganda and that the cases we were talking about as far as extreme cruelty, like animals being skinned alive or stomping techniques used in killing the animals to protect the valuable hide, were just that, extreme cases not representing the norm. But it doesn't take a lot of research to find out that's untrue.
So, do you're part! Don't wear fur, leather or wool. For more information about the cruelties inflicted as a result of these industries check out PETA, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals or Fur is Dead OR Liberation BC (the organization that put this particular protest together.)
And for more information on this particle protest and to read the article accompanying this picture, go to: The Richmond News

Also, it's not a bad idea for you to consider a vegan/vegetarian diet and contemplate what you can do to save helpless, defenseless animals from all kinds of abuse AND save the environment. GoVeg.com and again, PETA.org have a lot of information about how and why you should do your part.

Fur is Murder!

So, I am going to be in an anti-fur protest in Richmond on Wednesday. I will be naked save for panties, painted with splashes of red for blood with faux fur paws, ears, tail and patches on my breasts. Should be lots of fun if it reaches -2 degrees. I can't wait! Hopefully we'll make a real impact. I'll be starting my new vegan diet after Christmas as well. Wish me luck! I'll tell you all about afterwards and post any media I happen to appear in. Cross your fingers! Here's a link to a great PETA site with information, links, stickers, pamphlets and free guides on becoming vegan/vegetarian! One person can make a difference!

Untitled...

Tell me, why is it that people feel the need to be argumentative and insulting when talking about religion? It doesn't bother me whether someone's a Christian, a pagan or a Hindu. Why can't everyone look at things academically, maturally, intellectually, etc. Am I a rare breed? It saddens me when people have to bash Christians or scorn atheists. Oh well, such is life, I guess.

Backpacker's Guide to Life. . .

Well the days of my Fall semester are drawing to a close and I am now on my way to new classes. Western religion promises to be a real treat and I can't wait to sink my teeth into it. But first, I have Christmas Holidays and four books to attend to;
--Life After Death by Deepak Chopra
--Goddess: Myths of the Female Divine by David Leeming and Jake Page
--Popular Witchcraft: Straight from the Witch's Mouth by Jack Fritscher
--Introducing Buddhism by Charles S. Prebish and Damien Keown
I'll let you know how those are after I finish my essay on the Alternative Religious Traditions and the New Age Movement.
Also, I'm falling even more in love with Thailand. One day, I will make my pilgrimage there and bow down in worship at a Buddhist temple, drink rice wine on Khao San Road and travel to the Northern provinces to see the indigenous tribes and speak with merchants using broken Thai learnt from my Backpacker's Guide. Oh my heart swells with anticipation! I can't wait. One day...

Throw It All Away by Brandi Carlisle

When you're near me I have no fear
When I'm untrue you see right through me
You know me as deep as the sea goes
Calm my head whenever the storm blows

When the stars, and the moon
And the sky, fall through

I'd throw them all away when I'm hollow
Deep as the sea goes, all I know is
I would throw it all away...away

In my restless hour I'm holding
The words you say that lay my soul to sleep
I dream of buildings that burn
The sky turns black I toss and turn

When the stars, and the moon
And the sky, fall through

I'd throw them all away when I'm hollow
Deep as the sea goes, all I know is
I would throw it all away...away

This love branches out like an oak tree
Reach for the sky and roots to the sea
So when you're shaken down and broken
Find some peace of mind in knowing

I'd throw them all away when I'm hollow
Deep as the sea goes, all I know is
I would throw it all away...away

An Ancient Love Triangle

Also interesting to me, the myth of Lilith. The alleged (since ancient times, especially in old Jewish traditions and lore) first wife of Adam from the Bible. When God made Adam from dust, he made Lilith from it also and so they were equally made. Because they were equally made, she refused to obey Adam and be subservient. When God warned her to conform, she left the garden of Eden. Seeing that Adam was distraught at losing his life, God then said the famous, "it is not good for man to be alone." (Genesis 2:18) Then he created Eve, this time from Adam's rib, so she would be less than him and more obedient. However, as a consequence for leaving, Lilith was cursed by God and became a demon.
I bring this up because I want you to somewhat understand the melancholy quote I'm posting. It's my new favorite because of the sadness engrained in it, for all parties; Adam, Eve and Lilith.

"But though Adam's lips said Eve, his soul always echoed Lilith."

Ponder on it...

Whisperings from the Underworld

It's so exciting to be on the brink of a new semester. I'll be taking upper level psychology courses this winter. But more than those, I am thrilled for my Asian philosophy and Occidental World Religions courses. Spirituality is central to me. It's so underrated in the world today, especially in our western society.
I had an authentic shamanic journey the other night I wanted to speak of. Well, it could have been an astral travel. It depends what you define as either or. I was in an unfamiliar house that I have never seem before in real life with a woman I did not know and whom didn't know me. I was showing her around this house, because although I have never laid foot in a house like this, I recognized it in this travel. We were passing a small, short doorway when I heard whisperings. The door flew open and I could see that it was pitch black and that there were stairs going downwards as if it were some type of basement. The air coming out from the doorway was cool and smelled earthy. The whisperings got louder when the door opened and I was suddenly very fearful. I knew I was facing a passage to the underworld and I had the distinct feeling that if I went down those steps the woman would follow and if she went, I would follow. I became very fearful, the idea of going down those steps into that darkness and whisperings was terrifying so I slammed the door closed as fast as I could and started to cry. I woke out the trance crying and unconsciously yelling, "I'm not ready! I'm not ready!" So, obviously I need more practice in shamanic journeying/astral traveling. I need to let go of the fear that holds me back.

The Human Condition

"Human beings like to kill, whether it be each other, or a harmless, bright-eyed deer in the deep forest, or a tiger that had preyed upon cattle. A snake is deliberately run over on the road; a trap is set and a wolf or coyote is caught. Well dressed, laughing people go out with their precious guns and kiss birds that were lately calling to each other. A boy kills a chattering blue jay with his air gun, and the elders around him say never a word of pity, or scold him: on the contrary, they say what a good shot he is."
--Jiddu Krishnamurti, All the Marvelous Earth

A Peculiar Day...

Such peculiar days we've been having. The cold creeps under the covers and wakes you before you're ready. Suddenly, I remember I have much to do, much to do, but I don't want to, don't want to. Speaking in double dutch makes me feel like there's poems alive in my voice...and feels a bit like the subtle sway back and forth that you feel while sitting on the skytrain. Much to do, much to do, don't want to, don't want to.
The semesters nearing an end. I'm glad. Not because I don't enjoy learning, but my brain feels like it's been filled with teddy bear stuffing and been packed so tight, there's no room to even sort through the thoughts inside nevermind any new one's that might come along.
I find myself staring catatonic at a far object with nothing taking place behind my eyes. Just a vacancy.
My philosophy teacher proved last class that God and the afterlife do not exist. Physical completeness does not allow purposes to be fundamental parts of reality, he said. The intermingling of the natural sciences--physics, biology, chemistry--the laws and forces they impose on us as human beings...leave no room for the metaphysical. God, afterlife, kharma, the paranormal...they're all irrational and cannot be logically explained in terms of science.
Easy enough for some to say, "So what?" and truly not care.
Easy enough for some to say, "So, that proves nothing." and truly think it doesn't.
And I want to be on your side if that is in fact what you say. But I can't. I need concrete. I can't be so dismissive. He is a rational, smart, compassionate man. He seems as saddened by his theory as my own soul. If it was easy to disprove, he's tell us and show us because he is not some messiah of science come to rob us of hope. But, he can't. It's bleak.
So, I pose a question. "What of external world skepticism?" Meaning, of course, say the world we live in and all its laws are an illusion. How do we honestly know it's not? We don't, obviously. There's no way of knowing. If this world we live in is an illusion, then maybe there's an external world where a God does exist! According to the laws and forces of THAT world! Then physical completeness in our world is of no bearing at all.
Never did I predict that I'd one day hope and pray my world was an illusion, everything I love and believe in was fake and that there was an alternate dimension where a supreme being is pulling the strings.
Ay me, I feel a bit like Simone de Beauvoir when her lover died. No hope. Just a cold acceptance. I hope it passes soon, like the cold air creeping under my quilt.

All the things I wish I could say to mine...

Daddy

by Sylvia Plath

You do not do, you do not do

Any more, black shoe

In which I have lived like a foot

For thirty years, poor and white,

Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

Daddy, I have had to kill you.

You died before I had time——

Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,

Ghastly statue with one gray toe

Big as a Frisco seal

And a head in the freakish Atlantic

Where it pours bean green over blue

In the waters off beautiful Nauset.

I used to pray to recover you.

Ach, du.

In the German tongue, in the Polish town

Scraped flat by the roller

Of wars, wars, wars.

But the name of the town is common.

My Polack friend

Says there are a dozen or two.

So I never could tell where you

Put your foot, your root,

I never could talk to you.

The tongue stuck in my jaw.

It stuck in a barb wire snare.

Ich, ich, ich, ich,

I could hardly speak.

I thought every German was you.

And the language obscene

An engine, an engine

Chuffing me off like a Jew.

A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.

I began to talk like a Jew.

I think I may well be a Jew.

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna

Are not very pure or true.

With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck

And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack

I may be a bit of a Jew.

I have always been scared of you,

With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.

And your neat mustache

And your Aryan eye, bright blue.

Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You——

Not God but a swastika

So black no sky could squeak through.

Every woman adores a Fascist,

The boot in the face, the brute

Brute heart of a brute like you.

You stand at the blackboard, daddy,

In the picture I have of you,

A cleft in your chin instead of your foot

But no less a devil for that, no not

Any less the black man who

Bit my pretty red heart in two.

I was ten when they buried you.

At twenty I tried to die

And get back, back, back to you.

I thought even the bones would do.

But they pulled me out of the sack,

And they stuck me together with glue.

And then I knew what to do.

I made a model of you,

A man in black with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the screw.

And I said I do, I do.

So daddy, I’m finally through.

The black telephone’s off at the root,

The voices just can’t worm through.

If I’ve killed one man, I’ve killed two——

The vampire who said he was you

And drank my blood for a year,

Seven years, if you want to know.

Daddy, you can lie back now.

There’s a stake in your fat black heart

And the villagers never liked you.

They are dancing and stamping on you.

They always knew it was you.

Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through.