Is there anything really sacred? Depending on your religious beliefs, you can choose any of hundreds (perhaps even thousands) of answers. If there’s one thing that I’ve leaned from Paganism and Pantheism is that the earth is sacred as the source of food and shelter for humanity while we (“mutant monkeys”) destroy it. The Dutch neofolk band Omnia said it best in two of their songs — Earth Warrior and I Don’t Speak Human.
It’s almost as a hippie revival taking place in Europe where some of the best music’s coming from. In any case, regardless of religion (or lack of) and/or the music you hold dear, we (“mutant monkeys”) should try to keep the earth’s delicate ecosystem alive and healthy.
Under the Thelian Sky, ASIN B00GTQBY04, just $0.99
Amazon lending enabled
free with Kindle Unlimited
also available in print (ISBN 9781494232283)
Once again, academia tries to destroy creationism and God.
“California State University Northridge fired a scientist after he discovered soft tissue on a triceratops fossil, indicating that dinosaurs roamed the earth only thousands of years in the past rather than going extinct 60 million years ago. (Facebook)”
a video from Sheena Rose (@SheenaRose92) about XXX Church after EXXXOTICA… enough said!
An old friend of mine from elementary (primary) and high (secondary) school died this past Sunday of a heart attack at the age of 43 — not too old for cardiac thrombosis. It could’ve been prevented, but he didn’t go to a doctor to inquire about the three-day chest pain he had.
Some of our old friends and acquaintances seem honestly heartbroken judging the various messages in Facebook I’ve seen coming from half a world away. These people (some still good friends of mine) might have really loved him or perhaps they’re merely reacting to their selfish mortality. In any case, it’s the second or third death so far and won’t be the last.
I personally don’t feel anything. Maybe I’m too used to the Reaper, having cheated death more times that I can remember — perhaps five (5) times. Of course, the specter of death begotten on 9/11 is burnt into my psyche too — especially the lingering stench of the ashes of thousands in the brisk air of that unforgettable September Tuesday morn.
Maybe I’ll remember him when I hear the first album by Black Sabbath or some other rock record. Perhaps he’ll simply fade and I’d unconsciously opt to ignore or forget him again. After all, finishing high school not only meant the conclusion of the worst years of my life, but also the end of hypocrisy and false friendships whether the other person in the equation knew about this or not.
My real friends of several decades will be shocked by these words, but I shouldn’t care anymore.
Le roi est mort. Vive le roi! *