Pop Culture Prophets: Religion is Easy

Back to School Part 1

2008-05-03T10:34:00.000-07:00

I was having a pretty fun life during the mid-90s, living at home, working at a comic book store, seeing my fiance on the weekends, and partying with my friends at night. I didn't have any expenses except for my own fun and I was such good friends with my manager that I could sleep off hangovers in the back room of the store during work hours. Life was easy, and that wedding date was a couple years away. But then the comic store closed and my half-assed attempts at creative projects never panned out. So I got married and moved to San Diego with no job and no prospects. I guess I just thought that everything would just eventually work out. Somehow we would get by.

My wife had just got her degree and was starting a Teacher Credential program while waitressing part-time. I just got another menial retail job. I think at this stage I was already memorizing quotes that appealed to me but I never thought of them as a religion. My wife is the best because she never once forced me to find a career and make something of myself. She was real subtle with questions like: "Don't you want to have kids?" Yeah. "Don't you want to have a house?" Sure. "Then we're going to need more money than this." I always thought of maybe getting some kind of warehouse job that paid better and never really gave much thought to going back to school. Then one day we were hanging out with another couple who happened to be college graduates. It was like something out of a bad sitcom, they were all talking and laughing about stuff and I was totally clueless. They were talking about science stuff (all science majors) so I wouldn't have understood even if I had gone to college, but this incident was the first time I actually said to myself "Maybe I should go back to school." I suddenly got this urge to learn again after a six year hiatus and decided to register at the local community college. My wife offered the ultimate support. "Don't overwhelm yourself. Take night classes so you're classmates will be mostly adults. Only take two classes on topics that you want to know more about. But make sure that all of your units are transferable to a university." Perfect advice. My first two classes were Geology and Ancient Civilizations, and once I started there was no looking back.

In junior college I really enjoyed classes in History and the Humanities. I took courses on foreign cultures as well as the required math and sciences. I knew I was going to transfer to a university, but which one? And what major? My wonderful wife stepped in again to help focus me. "What do you really enjoy? What could you do for the next 30 years?" Working at the comic store was my all time favorite job. I liked being around the books and organizing them, hell, even helping the customers wasn't too bad. Why not work in a library? There is only a Master's Degree for Library and Information Science so I had a lot of schooling ahead of me. I contacted a Library Science program and found out that my Bachelor's Degree was just a piece of paper to get me into the Master's program so I could major in any subject I wanted. I figured English or Literature would be a good foundation since there wasn't a degree in Humanities. So I finished all my transferable units and set off to university with the plan of getting a degree in Literature with a focus on the German language.

Run and Play

2008-04-26T10:05:00.000-07:00

Like all parents, Mrs. Hughes had high hopes for her son. But Bob Hughes had his own plans. By the time he was a teenager he was a drug addict and small time criminal. He ran around with his childhood girlfriend, Diane, and together they formed a small crew with fellow addicts, Rick and Nadine, dedicated to stealing and getting high. The crew robbed drugstores and hospitals all over Portland and were constantly on the move due to police harassment. Whenever Bob needed anything he would stop in to see his mother. But Mrs. Hughes knew she had a dope-fiend, thief of a son and tried to keep him away, even going so far as to hide her purse when he showed up. But she couldn't completely abandon him. After the police trashed the crew's place during a raid, Bob and Diane headed over to his mom's to retrieve some new clothes. Mrs. Hughes berated him for the life he was living which led Diane to ask her why she hated them so much.

"I don't hate you, Diane. And I don't hate Robert either. And the Good Lord knows that to be the truth. I truly feel pity for you both. You are grown up now, and yet you still act as children who want to do nothing but run and play. You cannot run and play all your life, Diane."
Mrs. Hughes
Drugstore Cowboy, 1989

I miss being a kid. Being a kid is the greatest time in a person's life. Everything is new. You're taken care of. Your only job is to learn and have fun. Who would ever want to leave that? It's hard to grow up. It's hard to take that step into maturity when you are totally responsible for yourself. I remember that transition from teen to young adult when I had no other plan than to continue hanging out with my friends. "I'll just get a job, work when I have to, and have a good time every other minute. Future? What future? You mean I'm going to get older and I have to plan for that? But I still want to be a kid. I still want that freedom to run and play." Too bad, son, welcome to real life.

I tried to ignore this harsh reality, but eventually I had to wake up to it. As I struggled with this stage in my life, the kindly advice of Mrs. Hughes jumped out at me. I suddenly realized that I would have to grow up and take care of myself. I have to work so I can have money, so I can have a place to live, so I can have food, so I can have "things." If you want "things" in this life you have to work for them. You can't just wait for something to happen. You can't just rely on others to take care of you. You have to take responsibility for yourself. You can still think and act like a kid (we all should to keep ourselves young), but you have to be able to take care of yourself first. You can't run and play all your life.

A History of Atheism

2008-04-02T16:07:00.000-07:00

Many historians and sociologists of religion view the whole practice as the search for a father figure. Humans long for that time when life was simple and parents had all the answers. People need the comfort of an authority figure and in many cultures that authority is the father. (My suggestion is to become a parent and you'll find out you don't know shit, you just act like you do.) Religion is learned from the parents which is why most people accept the authority without question until they get old enough to figure out that they don't have to do everything their parents say. We can make our own decisions. The teenage years are when people strive for their own identity and often leave their family religion to seek their own answers. Tradition and the desire for an authority figure often lead them back to religion.

I never had a father. My biological father (or sperm donor as my mom refers to him) left, luckily for me, before I was born. The father figure in my life was my maternal grandfather. He grew up on a farm in North Dakota doing farm labor and hunting pheasants and ended up in sunny Southern California working for McDonnell-Douglas building airplanes (Thank you, Grandpa. I've never had to live through a Dakota winter.) My grandparents lived nearby when I was growing up and, although we saw them regularly, I didn't listen and learn from him as much as I should have. He had a backyard full of fruit trees where I learned to love plums and boysenberries. He taught me and my brothers to shoot a BB gun and even took us shooting once where we fired the .22 rifle he got at age 9. He made home brew (with our help) and plum wine and let us sip his beer. He took us to the Eagle's Lodge where he drank with his friends while we played video games. He'd "blow the cobwebs" out of his car while barrelling down residential streets. He was intelligent, strong, hard-working, and loved to laugh. He was everything I hope to be as a father and a grandfather.

He was taken from me when I needed him most. I was 15 years old. He had retired from Douglas but couldn't sit idle so he worked for a car rental company that sent out drivers to retrieve automobiles left in other states. On a return trip, a truck driver fell asleep at the wheel, crossed the center divide, and hit him head-on, killing him instantly. I think now that he rides with all of us when we drive. A few years ago, my brother walked away from an horrific crash without a scratch, even the police and paramedics were amazed. I know he's with me but I wish he could answer my questions. I'd love to hear more about his life but, more importantly, about his philosophy. My grandpa was an atheist. I'd love to discuss this with him. He was an atheist during the mid-twentieth century at a time when religion was extremely important. How did he come to his conclusions? How often did he express his views? How could he have influenced this journey that I've trod alone?

I wish he could meet me now. I wish he could meet my wife and kids. I wish we could sit with a beer and talk long into the evening. I miss you, Gramps. I love you.

Plate of Shrimp

2008-03-29T12:40:00.000-07:00

Last time, I mentioned that strange little synchronicities were happening in my life that I could no longer ignore and had to acknowledge. When I was studying religion in college, which was years later, I mentioned these experiences to my favorite professor, and, while not totally discrediting them, he explained that our brains are designed to look for and find patterns. I can understand this but it makes it sound as if I was forcing the patterns rather than just noticing uncanny connections. My experiences usually involved a thought in my head manifesting itself in reality, like my friend finishing a song I was singing in my head. I can see my professor's point in instances of starting to like a song and then hearing it everywhere I go such as on the car radio or in department stores. The song was now in my consciousness so I was able to recognize it. (But for me this leads to the deeper philosophical question of whether the song existed before it entered my consciousness, more on that later.) But my little coincidences had a much greater depth.

For example, in 1989 I saw the early Wayan's brother comedy, I'm Gonna Git You, Sucka! ( I highly recommend it). In the film, a character named Kung-Fu Joe starts whippin' ass and the song "Kung-Fu Fighting" by Carl Douglas plays. I had to get my hands on that song. This was long before the 70s revival of the 1990s and I went on many fruitless searches in every store that sold music. One day, I'm in a Wherehouse and I hear a song playing that I instantly liked, "Magic" by the band Pilot. I rushed to the counter where they had the "Now Playing" display and saw a CD called Super Hits of the 70s: Have a Nice Day Volume 14. I remember thinking "I like this song, but a whole CD of 70s pop? Could it be any good?" I looked at the song list and the number one track was "Kung-Fu Fighting." I bought it immediately. I enjoyed every song on that volume and developed a love for bad 70s pop ballads and novelty songs. I now own almost all of the 24 volume series. It was little incidences like this that began to occur regularly in my life. A minor dalliance leading to a great discovery. Why did I like that song? Why was that CD playing? Why does it have the song I've been scouring music stores for? I had to try to answer these questions.

In the course of preparing this piece, I was reminded of a movie from my youth. We watched Repo Man because the main character was a punk rocker but I was instantly mesmerized by the old burnout, Miller. We used to quote lines from the movie and there was one that I used to love (my brother can attest to it) because I thought it was funny, not because I thought it contained some philosophical truth. To hear it now is kind of scary as it succinctly captures my current life philosophy. Did I unconsciously base my entire way of thinking on this? Like I said, my life is filled with complex synchronicities like a funny teenage obsession turning into the blueprint for a philosophy later in life. Enjoy.

"A lot of people don't realize what's really going on. They view life as a bunch of unconnected incidences and things. They don't realize that there's this like... lattice of coincidence that lays on top of everything. I'll give you an example, show you what I mean. Suppose you're thinking about a plate of shrimp. Suddenly somebody will say like plate...or shrimp...or plate of shrimp. Out of the blue, no explanation. No point in looking for one either. It's all part of a cosmic unconsciousness."
Miller
Repo Man, 1984

P.S. My brother and I to this day still say "shrimp...or plate of shrimp" when an odd coincidence occurs that we both acknowledge.

The Search Begins

2008-03-20T18:33:00.001-07:00

After high school, I didn't have much of a plan in terms of a career. I just worked menial jobs, hung out with my friends, and saw my girlfriend on the weekend. Religion/spirituality was the last thing on my mind. I could never be swayed by any established religion because my mind was always asking "Why? By whose authority?" Besides, there were a bunch of different religions that seemed to work for different individuals so how could one be the definitive answer? My philosophy of the world was culled from the books I read, the rare philosophical discussion (usually with my friend, Otto), and my own experiences. I didn't have an answer. All I knew for sure was that I didn't know anything. This led me to conclude that no one else knows anything either. I'm not saying that people don't have knowledge, I'm just saying that no one is 100% "right" in their beliefs. There is no single, universal belief system that some people already possess and eventually the rest of the world will wake up to and fall in line with. I believed in all sorts of contradictory ideas like space aliens creating the human race and the notion that magic is an inherent human quality. This was useful because I could fluctuate between hard science and fantastic magic depending on some new knowledge or experience, or on just how I was feeling on a given day. Christians can do this with the "eye-for-an-eye" God of the Old Testament and the "turn-the-other-cheek" God of the New Testament depending on if they are the one who's angry or if they are giving advice to someone who's angry. After September 11, I was surprised at all the Christians screaming for blood under the "eye-for-an-eye" premise when Jesus would have offered his other cheek after being slapped. Marcion was right when he said the Christian scriptures should not include the Old Testament writings because Jesus had superseded the old Law. Too many contradictions in the current version allow people to pick and choose. One of the perks of being an atheist is that I can hate and wish death upon anyone I want without having the guilt of answering to some higher power. But I digress.

It was around this time that I felt compelled to identify and categorize the strange experiences in my life, which could no longer be ignored, without attributing them to God or the randomness of the universe. I took to describing this supernatural realm as "The Force." As I mentioned, I was obsessed with the original Star Wars and hung on every word of the wisdom of Obi-Wan Kenobi. This was before the transition to DVDs so I had to clock each scene with Obi-Wan in order to fast forward to the crucial parts without missing anything. ( A list of the times is still tucked into my old videocassette.) When Luke meets Obi-Wan and learns about his father, he is confronted with the strange concept of "The Force" and Obi-Wan offers an explanation that I found quite satisfying.

"The Force is what gives a Jedi his power. It's an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us. It binds the galaxy together."
Obi-Wan Kenobi
Star Wars, 1977

Perfect. I do feel we have power. I do feel we are all connected. This strangeness I'm experiencing can finally be identified. We're all connected by "The Force."

And that was it. I didn't realize it then but it's clear now that this was when I started to really draw upon the pop culture of my youth to formulate a life philosophy and understanding of religion. I didn't go to church and I didn't need to. My answers were right in front of me in the music, movies, and literature I've loved since childhood. There must be some reason for such a strong attachment besides sentimental reasons. The next step, and the biggest, was learning to read and understand these things in a new light.

Connection

2008-03-08T11:25:00.000-08:00

It's strange how we connect with people in this life. I met my best friend, Wayne, in 4th grade (1983) and we've been like brothers ever since. There was a set of twins at our elementary school and he was friends with one and I the other so eventually we met. It seems strange now that we hit it off as we did because at that age your either scholastically inclined, physically inclined, or both. I was more scholastic and, lucky for me, he was both. He was always active on the playground in games of kickball and the like which I never really participated in on a regular basis. I used to play on the bars and the rings which weren't so competitive. I think we made a connection because he lived a half a block away and he knew friends of my brothers. I immediately took to him after an incident while walking home from school one day. Near his house, there was a house that had a small hedge with a low brick wall around it. Wayne easily leapt over it and, trying to impress him, I made the jump too. I cleared the hedge but came down on the brick wall and twisted my ankle. I couldn't stand, let alone walk. I hardly knew this kid, how do I ask for help? I didn't have to. He lifted me onto his back and carried me to his house where I called my mom and got a ride home. I'll never forget that, we had only known each other a short time.

After that, we were inseparable. He would come down to my house each morning so my grandma could drive us to school. This was the age when you usually show up at school a half hour early to play on the playground, but we would wait at my house until the last possible minute just hanging out and laughing. His habits at school changed as well and he and I took to walking around the outer edge of the playground just making up funny stuff, doing Mad Libs, making funny shadows, creating a list of X-rated Garbage Pail Kids. I recently reflected on our odd pairing. I was into imaginative play and he was as athletic as the best kids in school. He could have easily gone that route but he chose to hang out with me. He did still participate in some sports, I remember a flag football team that I was "Manager" of so I could be there to support him. Last year I had to ask him "Why did you befriend me?" He answered my strange question with "I don't know. I liked having fun and laughing. I liked being around you and your brothers." (We are quite entertaining.) He fit right in with us. He could even hang with my brothers if I was busy. We rarely got angry with each other and everything we did was to have a good time. We take our friendship for granted sometimes and don't realize that most people in this world never make such a deep connection with another human being that it lasts 25 years. About 4 or 5 years after high school, we went into a store and ran into a guy we knew from elementary school and he couldn't believe it: "You guys are still hanging out together?" Till the end.

I mention all of this because when I started to verbalize my outrageous ideas he was the first one I opened up to and now we have all kinds of odd coincidences occur between us. These new incidents reminded me of the first time I thought we had some kind of connection beyond this reality. After such a strong bond in elementary school, of course we moved onto junior high and faced all those experiences together. We skipped school a lot to hang out in a field and smoke cigarettes (our favorite movies were The Outsiders and Stand By Me) and it wasn't long before we started experimenting with drugs. Talk about just hanging out and laughing. We devoted days, weekends, and summer vacations to getting high and having a good time. There was a local liquor store that was a block away and we used to walk up there to buy candy for when we got the "munchies." We were also getting very interested in Reggae with artists like Peter Tosh and Bob Marley. I recall a very amazing instance in which we were walking home from the liquor store and, while munching away, I had Bob Marley's Redemption Song running through my head. "How long shall they kill our prophets? While we stand aside and look." And out of nowhere, Wayne looks over at me and sings "Yes, some say it's just a part of it, We got to fulfill the book." I was frozen in my tracks. He had followed up what I was thinking with the exact lyrics. He was confused by the look on my face. "What?" "Why did you just say that?" "I don't know, it just popped into my head." I explained my disbelief and we laughed it off as "trippy" which is what you do when your young and high, but I never forgot that. Somehow our minds were connected and this connection would manifest itself more frequently, as I said, after I told him about my ideas of something beyond this reality. I recognize that early incident as a flash of what was to come. Like Luke Skywalker blinding himself with a helmet in his duel with a remote that he could almost see even without the use of his eyes.

"You've taken your first step into a much larger world."
Obi-Wan Kenobi
Star Wars, 1977

Don't Forget About the Sea

2008-02-16T14:13:00.000-08:00

When the ebbing tide retreats
Along the rocky shoreline
It leaves a trail of tidal pools
In a short-lived galaxy
Each microcosmic planet
A complete society

A simple kind of mirror
To reflect upon our own
All the busy little creatures
Chasing out their destinies
Living in their pools
They soon forget about the sea...
Neil Peart
Natural Science, 1980

Sometimes you can hear a song a hundred times and not really hear it. You know the tune and the words but that one time it suddenly hits you, "That's what it means." I've always loved the song Natural Science but I can distinctly remember the moment when the opening totally revealed itself to me. The music has a rolling sort of feeling as of the tides flowing in and out which fits the lyrics perfectly. I was on one of my drives to see my future wife, then fiance, from L.A. to San Diego. The song was rolling along with me and, while passing through Orange County, the freeway rose above a surface street which gave a startling view of the vast expanse of neighborhoods stretching in every direction. Right at that moment, Geddy sang:
"Living in their pools
They soon forget about the sea..."

I remember thinking that these are our pools but we're part of a much larger sea. People live and work in one area so it's easy to think that's all there is. We create labels and groups to make ourselves seem more important and better than others. I'm white, you're black. I'm rich, you're poor. I'm Christian, you're Muslim. I'm straight, you're gay. The old 1980s Straight Edge punk group, Youth of Today, said it best:

I used to think that labels were just symbols of pride
But over time I see they only serve to divide
Ray Cappo
Break Down the Walls, 1986

We keep ourselves divided as if admitting that people are just people somehow diminishes our own uniqueness. It's a hard pattern to break because, like religion, these views are reinforced by our sacred canopy. I have a friend who majored in Sociology that started me on the road to not labelling people. We were standing around at work one day and someone started a story about "this white guy" and my friend immediately interrupted, "Is that relevant to the story?" We were all kind of stunned because to describe people is so common that none of us caught it. The guy finished his story without really answering the question (it wasn't relevant to the story) and we went back to work. That moment always stayed with me. (Thanks, Marc.) Do I label people without realizing it? I'll have to drop those labels from my vernacular. This is not easy to do. This incident took place almost ten years ago and I still have to make a conscious effort when launching into a story because these labels are everywhere and most people use them. But I try. I suggest that we all try. We are all busy taking care of our own little worlds but don't forget that there's more out there. Even with all our differences, we're all human beings. People are people. Don't forget about the sea.

Alter Our Perceptions

2008-01-26T14:13:00.000-08:00

I've read portions of the Carlos Castaneda books in which the author, an anthropologist, interviews the Yaqui shaman Don Juan Matus. Something that always stayed with me was Don Juan's description of perceiving reality. He talks about strings of light that extend everywhere throughout the universe and that we receive and filter these strings of information through a specific perception point within our psyche.

(Aside: I am using the word psyche, pronounced "su-ke" in Greek, not the modern day psyche, "si-kee." Psyche in ancient Greece meant "that which is not the body." The most common translations are soul or spirit but I reject these as they have come to carry so many Christian connotations. Psyche to me is best described in the Ancient Greek because I recognize that I am more than my physical body but I'm not a shell filled with a spirit/soul granted me by God. I know there is a component of myself that is "not the body.")

So, according to Don Juan, our reality is constructed by our interpretation of the information coming through our perception point. It is possible to shift this perception point to comprehend a "nonordinary reality." This is the goal of a shaman warrior, to increase awareness and focus our energy into a "second attention" that will allow access to other states of reality. But how do you shift the perception point? Don Juan introduced Castaneda to mind-altering chemicals, such as peyote and mushrooms, and the art of dreaming.

I was immediately intrigued. I've always had very strong dreams and was fascinated by the suggestion that I could control them. My early drug experimentation was all for the fun of having a good time with my friends so there was no hesitation when I was offered, I jumped at the chance. (Well, maybe not the first chance, but definitely the second.) I was willing to alter my perception of reality long before I heard of Carlos Castaneda or Don Juan. The best lesson I got from Don Juan was that drugs aren't necessary to alter perception, they're just the introduction to the fact that it's possible. Once you've opened your mind and cast off the limitations of our current reality, you're mind can access this state without aid. There were times when I was in such an altered state that my mind seemed to be running on its own, receiving thoughts from some place beyond this reality. I felt in tune with the universe and everything clicked. Like magic.

This feeling is often described as "being in the zone," when everything happens just as it's supposed to with what feels like little effort. I recognized this feeling from my pre-drug youth when my addiction was video games. Thinking back, I also had even earlier experiences of altering my perception. When I was little, we had a screen door that had a criss-crossing "X" pattern on the lower half. I remember staring at it until my eyes seemed to cross and the pattern became three dimensional. I remember reaching out and trying to touch it it looked so close. This is exactly like the 3-D art poster that were popular in the 1990s that look like a mess of color but change to an image when you stare at them long enough and reach this altered state. People had a hard time seeing them but my experience from childhood made them easy for me. This skill came in handy when I got into video games. When I was a kid, games on Nintendo could not be saved like nowadays and to beat a game you had to play it all the way through perfectly. Most games back then were side-scrollers (Super Mario Brothers is the best example) in which your character moved toward the right of the screen with obstacles and enemies coming from all directions. This meant that you had to be aware of the entire screen and not just focus on your character. I remember times when I'd feel a dreamy state come over my mind. I was "in the zone" and could do no wrong. Everything happened perfectly as long as you kept your mind blank and just flowed. The minute you focused on your success, it was over. I always took note of that. The key to success was to tap in and let it flow. These experiences directly influenced my concept of magic and its inner workings. You can't think too hard about things or they will never happen. You have to create the thought in your mind and then direct your thoughts elsewhere. You must allow that initial idea to grow into its own reality. Everything will happen as it's supposed to if you allow the magic to work of its own accord. It cannot be forced. This notion developed over a long period of time, with the different pieces falling into place as memories and experiences converged.

I consider myself lucky to have learned these skills so early in life. I'm thankful for my drug experimentation for bolstering my understanding of the malleability of perception. You don't have to think like everyone else and you shouldn't. We are all living in the same reality but we're not perceiving the same reality. The key is to keep your mind open and not limit yourself to a reality foisted on you by others. Your reality is your own.

Face Up

2008-01-19T13:08:00.000-08:00

Freddy Nieuwendyk was working undercover. His assignment was to bust the jewel-theft ring of Joe Cabot. After the right recommendations, Freddy was selected to work on a job with a six man crew. But first he had to meet Joe and establish his credentials. The undercover team was prepared for this and provided Freddy with a story of a funny incident that happened while he was on another job. He related that he was making a marijuana deal at a train station when he had to take a piss. He walked into the bathroom, with the weed in a hand bag, and there stood a group of cops with a police dog. They weren't there for him, they were just hanging out in the Men's room. So Freddy casually emptied his bladder, washed his hands, and left. Joe was pleased with his actions and how he handled himself.
"You know how to handle that situation - just shit your pants and dive in and swim."
Joe Cabot
Reservoir Dogs, 1992

The words of Joe Cabot always come to mind when I'm going into a situation I'm dreading or when I suddenly find myself in an unexpected situation that could turn out bad if I crack under the pressure. Long before I ever heard these words of wisdom, I used this skill to extricate myself from a sticky situation. During my drug-fueled high school days, I was stopped by a police officer while under the influence. I was walking away from campus during school hours when he rolled up on me. I had drugs on me but I didn't act afraid or nervous, I wasn't doing anything wrong. I had learned years earlier that when you're doing something wrong the last thing you want to do is act like you're doing something wrong. The police officer took my name and address, asked me a few questions which I answered satisfactorily, and told me to get home. I knew how to handle that situation.

Joe Cabot also served me well when I went back to college and had to take a speech class. I hate getting up in front of people and, as strange as it sounds, I was more nervous anticipating taking the stage then when I actually got up there. I needed something to prod me into moving and Joe was there, "Shit your pants and dive in and swim."

It's okay to be afraid, just do what you have to do. We all face situations like this in our lives and it helps to have the reassurance that fear of the unknown is normal. But don't let that stop you from doing what needs to be done. There's no sense in running away, you'll have to face up to it sooner or later, so it's best to face it head on. On your own terms.

Possibilities

2008-01-08T15:46:00.000-08:00

I moved to Oregon after high school but only managed to last 2 years before returning to Southern California. Lack of friends, activities, and sunlight drove the decision. It rained 10 months out of the year and that's just torture to a California boy used to seeing the sun almost everyday. Upon my return, my best friend gave me a book to read called Communion by Whitley Strieber. This is a true account of the author's encounter with alien beings. Strieber was already established as a horror fiction writer so many critics doubt the validity of the story told in Communion. I was totally captivated. It read like a horror story, keeping you up all night, but the real goal of the book was to try and understand the relationship between aliens and humans. The aliens are watching over our fragile evolution until we can properly cope with not being the only living thing in the universe. This was appealing to me. I recently unearthed an old piece of writing from high school in which I pontificated on the existence of aliens and their connection to human evolution so the germ of this idea was already in my head when I came into contact with Communion. "There's no God so it's possible that human beings could be a galactic experiment. The universe is so big there must be something out there." Even then I felt arrogant in thinking that human beings were the pinnacle of existence. Maybe at 17 I just wanted to believe something fantastic.

Right around the time I read Communion, my future wife and I visited a library book sale and I put my hand on a ring in the dark. There were tables filled with books and I was scanning titles as only the spines were visible. The first book I selected, based solely on the title without any idea of the subject matter, was Chariots of the Gods by Erich Van Daniken. It is an historical discussion of contact between ancient civilizations and alien beings. This was one of my first noted instances of things happening right when they're supposed to. Why did I choose that book? How was it possible that it matched and enhanced my knowledge of a subject that had already piqued my interest? It was as if something was saying "Here, read this next. It's the next piece of the puzzle." I took the book home and devoured it within days. After that, I was convinced that aliens were real and were just watching and waiting. This was the mid-1990s and alien stories and imagery were everywhere due to the popularity of shows like the X-Files (which I never watched). My belief in alien beings was not based solely on stuff I read in books, I've twice seen some strange things in the sky. In high school, my brother and I were ditching school and getting high in our garage (yes, this was our main activity in high school). The side entrance door was open and as I was staring dazedly out it when an object appeared in my line of sight moving across the sky from left to right. It was a silver ball. The sun shined on it and distinguished the shape. There were no wings, it was a sphere. I ran to the door with my brother in tow and we both stood there staring "What the fuck is that?" It moved off behind some trees and we were left trying to explain what we saw to people who only focused on the fact that we were in an altered state of mind. My second encounter happened while not under the influence and in the presence of my wife who is a more credible witness as she does not imbibe mind altering substances. We were driving at night and saw something in the sky that looked like a blimp wrapped in Christmas lights. I sped up for a better look but it moved away too quickly. I would have been able to catch a blimp so we're still not sure exactly what it was we saw. These events and my readings consumed my thinking and even pervaded my dreams. After I focused my attention on other matters, the dreams faded but every now and again resurfaced so I took to writing them down to avoid forgetting them.

Am I still certain of the existence of aliens? Possibly. What this series of events did for me was to open my mind to the belief that anything is possible. I don't believe anything is certain. If it's real in someone's mind, then it's real to them. My 6 year old recently asked about the existence of Santa Claus and, on a separate occasion, the existence of aliens (he has Lego sets with aliens in them). This is how I responded: Unless you personally experience an event, it is only a story related by another person. Everything is a story. Aliens, Santa Claus, Jesus. Some people choose to believe and some people choose not to believe. YOU get to decide, in your heart and mind, what YOU choose to believe. He looked at me with those eyes wise beyond his years and said "I believe in everything." "So do I" I replied.

The Children of the Fuke

2007-12-08T13:47:00.000-08:00

I don't usually write poetry but there have been times when verses have sprang into my head and I jot them down. I recently uncovered a cache of these from around my high school years and found an interesting item that expressed how I felt at the time. I was surprised by the date as I thought I didn't begin thinking about a life philosophy until years later. Reading it, I realized that even at 18 years old I knew I wasn't going to follow any established religion and felt that I was totally in control and responsible for whatever happened in my life. The title is a reference to my cousin who had taken the nickname The Fuke. The name comes from a Cheech and Chong movie called The Corsican Brothers set during the French Revolution with an evil antagonist called The Fuckaire. My cousin protested this moniker for a long time (I think because his brother gave it to him) but seemed to gradual accept the abbreviated Fuke (I think because we wouldn't stop using it). I always admired my cousin; not so much for his actions, which could be pretty lowdown, but for the fact that he lived his life by his own rules and never apologized for anything (more than a few of us are still waiting on one). No one had the authority to tell him what to do and he set his own boundaries (which were few). I was applying that attitude to religion when I named this poem in an attempt to express that I feel no person, god, or religion has any authority over me.

The Children of the Fuke
Sometimes I think on
The fool that I was
Because I know life
And life knows because
You can't see every turn of the path
Every twist
And sometimes I wonder
Was that the "Right Path" I missed?

But it's not in us
To think or to question
We are taught to live by
The Lord's One True Lesson
But I stand aside and say
"I will not be lead!
I'll write my own life's story,
And I'll die when I'm dead."
David Ege, 1992

A Ring in the Dark

2007-11-10T11:33:00.000-08:00

The One Ring. The greatest of the Rings of Power. The Ring of Sauron the Dark Lord. Sauron poured all of his malice and dark power into the Ring upon its forging. He gave up so much of his power that without the Ring he was but a shadow in the world. When Isildur overthrew the Dark Lord and took the Ring as his own, the dark power in the Ring produced a will that drove it from master to master, searching in vain for the hand of Sauron. Isildur died when he was ambushed at the Great River and the Ring was lost in its depths for thousands of years. It was rediscovered by two fishing friends, Deagol and Smeagol. The desire of the Ring drove Smeagol to kill Deagol and use the Ring for evil purposes. Smeagol was cast out of his home so he hid himself under the mountains where his transformation into the creature, Gollum, was completed. Gollum held the Ring for centuries until it, sensing the growing power of Sauron in the world, slipped from his finger to be found by the oddest person, Bilbo Baggins the Hobbit. Bilbo was a good-hearted hobbit that had reluctantly traveled as a professional burglar with a company of dwarves seeking their long, lost treasure. He had many adventures and learned a great deal about himself and how resourceful and resilient hobbits could be in a pinch. He came away with hero status and a horde of gold, but his greatest treasure remained a secret to a select few, the One Ring. Bilbo returned to his home and lived a long life. As he got older, the desire for new adventures led him to set out into the world once again. He left all of his possessions, including the Ring, to his nephew and heir, Frodo Baggins. Frodo suspected the potential power in the Ring as he had been warned against using it by Gandalf the Wizard. Gandalf sought more knowledge of the Ring and he set out on a series of travels, visiting Frodo every few years. After a nine year absence, he returned to Frodo, sure of the nature of the Ring and its dark history. On a bright afternoon, Gandalf told Frodo the tale of the Ring and tried to reassure the hobbit of his importance in the grand design of the world.

"It is no laughing matter," said Gandalf. "Not for you. It was the strangest event in the whole history of the Ring so far: Bilbo's arrival just at that time, and putting his hand on it, blindly, in the dark.
"There was more than one power at work, Frodo. The Ring was trying to get back to its master. It had slipped from Isildur's hand and betrayed him; then when a chance came it caught poor Deagol, and he was murdered; and after that Gollum, and it had devoured him. It could make no further use of him: he was too small and mean; and as long as it stayed with him he would never leave his deep pool again. So now, when its master was awake once more and sending out his dark thought from Mirkwood, it abandoned Gollum. Only to be picked up by the most unlikely person imaginable: Bilbo from the Shire!
"Behind that there was something else at work, beyond any design of the Ring-maker. I can put it no plainer than by saying that Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, and not by its maker. In which case you also were meant to have it. And that may be an encouraging thought.
J.R.R. Tolkien
The Fellowship of the Ring, 1954
The Shadow of the Past

Things happen exactly when they're supposed to. There's only one way to tell a story, and life is a story. As a teenager, I started questioning the stories I interacted with in books and movies. Outlandish elements, like the girl who investigates the graveyard at night by herself, just didn't sit well with me. "Why is she doing that? This just doesn't make any sense. People don't act this way. This could never happen." Then a revelation hit me while pondering the absurdity of it all: if those things didn't happen, then there would be no story to tell. Things need to happen to be able to tell a story. And they can only happen in a certain order. Event A leads to Event B leads to Event C. They all build upon one another. This improved my storytelling skills but it also impacted my life as I began to apply this thinking to my philosophy. I could look back at how the events in my life unfolded into each other. I realized "This never would have happened if that hadn't happened first." The more I pondered it, the more I could see a pattern.

After high school, I had no plans for the future, no career in mind. I was content just to do menial work and create in my spare time. My future wife often asked me what I wanted to do but I had no answer. I applied for a job at a Home Depot which could pay pretty well and offer stability but I sabotaged it by failing the drug test. I noticed a few days later that my local comic book store was hiring so I filled out an application and got the job (because I was the least geeky I was later told). Working at the comic store was the greatest job I've ever had in my life. My coworkers were awesome, I got to see all the new books and toys, and I managed to write and draw my own comic because of the inspiring environment. I also learned that I enjoyed working around books and organizing them. When the shop went out of business a couple years later, I had an idea of the kind of career I might pursue. Books and organizing? I'll be a librarian. And now I am. So looking back, I had to miss the job at Home Depot so I could get the job at the comic store so I could learn what I enjoy doing so I could make the effort to become a librarian. Event A leads to Event B leads to Event C. It couldn't have happened any other way. Or maybe it could have but it would have taken longer. You just need to trust that your story is unfolding exactly the way it's supposed to. Even the bad decisions, like failing a drug test, lead to the right end.

I became fascinated with recognizing the pattern and noticing how a whole bunch of little things came together perfectly to create a singular moment. Some people call it serendipity or synchronicity. The more I noticed it, the more it became part of my reality. How does all this work out so perfectly? Einstein theorized that, at the moment of the Big Bang, everything that has happened or ever will happen occurred in that initial instance. Events appear to happen in a sequence so our minds can comprehend a reality without being overwhelmed by the amount of information. In some small part of the mind we already know what's going to happen next. I think moments of deja vu are instances of our mind accessing the knowledge that "this has already happened." We are watching our life's story unfold. So pay attention to that little voice of intuition that directs your actions even when the story seems absurd. We often ignore it, but it may lead you to exactly where you're supposed to be going. Things happen exactly when they're supposed to.

"Sometimes you put your hand on a ring in the dark, and things are just supposed to happen that way."
David Ege, 2005

Feel the Force

2007-11-01T16:15:00.000-07:00

The dying scream of the Tauntaun echoed through the Wampa's lair. The ice monster tore with relish into its freshest kill. The death knell pierced Luke Skywalker's ears, shaking him back to consciousness. Blood pounded in his brain as he realized he was suspended upside down. He pulled himself up and struggled with the ice that held him fast to the ceiling but to no avail. He hadn't the strength to wrench himself free. His body fell limply back to its original position and as he stared at the snowdrifts covering the floor of the cave his eyes settled on a metallic object. His lightsaber. It must have fallen from his belt and now lay half buried just out of reach. Luke frantically reached out, trying to extend his body to its fullest. The rising panic increased his flailing, which caught the attention of the Wampa, but brought him no closer to the weapon. Suddenly the words of the old Jedi master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, sprang into his mind. Luke relaxed his body. He closed his eyes and stretched out his feelings to the energy of the universe, the Force. The approaching terror of the ice creature could not break his connection, Luke could feel the power within him. He slowly opened his eyes and held out his hand to the lightsaber. It stirred. Luke could hear the Wampa's footsteps edging closer but his oneness with the Force calmed his body and mind. The weapon leapt into his hand. The shimmering blade shattered the ice enclosing his feet and Luke toppled to the ground. The Wampa was upon him. He dismembered the monster with one swift stroke and fled the cave into a blinding snowstorm.
The Empire Strikes Back, 1980

I love this example of Luke first using the Force. He used it when he launched his proton torpedoes and destroyed the Death Star but it was hardly noticeable without Darth Vader's comment that he could feel the Force emanating from the pilot he chased. The incident in the Wampa's cave shows Luke using the techniques taught to him by Obi-Wan. I keep these words handy in my mind to deal with stressful situations.

"Remember, a Jedi can feel the Force flowing through him."
"You mean it controls your actions?"
"Partially. But it also obeys your commands."
Obi-Wan Kenobi and Luke Skywalker
Star Wars, 1977

"Stretch out with your feelings."
Obi-Wan Kenobi
Star Wars, 1977

"Use the Force, Luke. Let go, Luke. Luke, trust me."
Obi-Wan Kenobi
Star Wars, 1977

I started relying on these lessons when I first went back to college after 6 years of not being in school. I had to face taking tests again and often worried if I would be able to remember anything. The professor that taught me German said that once you learn something it's in your brain but factors like stress and time limits make you forget or block information. This sounded logical to me so I turned to the words of Obi-Wan as a calming technique. On the day of an exam, I would study up until I entered the classroom, usually around 10 minutes early, and then I would sit with my eyes closed trying to calm my mind. Sometimes while writing an essay I would hit a block. I would just set my pencil down and I could hear Obi-Wan's voice in my head. I would calm down, recall what I wanted to say, and be able to resume writing. I could feel the Force flowing through me.

These words of wisdom are necessary when I get behind the wheel of a car. I'm a madman. I hate the way people drive. I've tried to self-analyze this and the only answer I could come up with was "These people can kill me." I'm convinced that people run on auto-pilot 99% of the their day, especially when doing something that is routine like driving. This is just unacceptable. You have to be totally aware at every single second and watch not only your own driving but all the drivers around you as well. My hatred of the human race stems from the fact that I feel there is usually zero thinking going on inside people's heads. I'm okay with that, but when you're driving a car you need to think. Other people's lives are at stake. It's the one time I demand that people use their brain. My grandfather was killed by a trucker that fell asleep at the wheel and I'm sure this contributes to my expectations. My wife hates when I rant when I drive. It's not every minute, but, boy, do I get nuts when someone does something stupid. "Why did you do that? What's the logic behind it? There must not be a thought in that person's head!" I usually watch my language but my kids get an earful when someone makes a dumb decision on the road. They usually just tell me to stop saying bad words, but I have taught them my calming techniques and they pull them out every now and again. Not only in the car but also if I'm angry around the house. If I can't calm myself, I ask my older son to help me and he knows " A Jedi can feel the Force flowing through him." My younger son doesn't quite know the words but I've explained the lesson of Luke in the Wampa's cave so when he sees me upset he'll tell me "Remember Luke in the Wampa's cave." It helps me but I think he's more interested in the monster getting his arm chopped off. Life is full of high stress situations and it is helpful to stay calm. So stretch out with your feelings and feel the Force.

Pascal's Wager

2007-10-30T18:43:00.000-07:00

My wife and I first started dating when we were 14 years old. She was, and still is, a practicing Catholic (I know, it's amazing she puts up with my anti-religion thinking but she's just that strong). We had never spoken about religion so one day she asked me what I believed. I can still remember where we were. We were standing on a corner at a halfway point between her house and mine when I answered. I can remember so clearly because it was the first time I had been asked point blank about the subject and I wasn't sure how to answer. I remember saying something along the lines of "I don't know if there is a God but just in case, I believe." She seemed okay with that answer and I think it satisfied my mind as well. But within a year, maybe two, I found myself questioning my response. "Why should I believe in God just in case? Because of fear of Hell? But what is Hell? Do either of those concepts really exist?" It felt like I should be able to say "Yes, I believe" or "No, I don't" not "Maybe." I never mentioned it to her but I had decided on "No." The existence of "God" could not be proven so my logical mind told me I couldn't accept an idea based on an irrational fear of what lay beyond death. Without years of indoctrination, I just couldn't make that leap of faith.

Years later, while studying religion, I learned that this "just in case" belief is known as Pascal's Wager. Blaise Pascal was a philosopher/mathematician in 17th century France. He couldn't prove there was a God but he chose to believe anyway. He argued that you can't prove that God exists but if it is true and you believe then you go to Heaven. If it's true and you don't believe then you go to Hell. If it's not true and you believe then nothing is lost. If it's not true and you don't believe then you gain nothing. So there's nothing to lose and everything to gain if you believe in God. You should believe "just in case" because odds are you'll end up in Heaven, hence Pascal's WAGER.

I find the whole idea to be a cop-out. It's like saying "I might not get any presents for Christmas so I better believe in Santa just in case." This may work on little kids but as an adult you know too much. Either you believe or you don't. To me, there is no maybe. I also have an issue with it because it puts too much stock in Christian beliefs. You'd first have to concede the authority of the Judeo-Christian God and their concept of the afterlife, Heaven and Hell. But if I'm not sure about the existence of God shouldn't I believe in the Muslim, Hindu, and Buddhist afterlife "just in case"? And what makes these modern belief systems any more valid than the ancient Egyptian, Greek, and Roman concepts of the afterlife? The argument just falls apart. I will not believe out of fear and I don't think "God" would want us to. I am seeking and I encourage others to seek.

"Well, I was only a kid, on a holy crusade
I placed no trust in a faith that was ready-made
Take no chances on paradise delayed"
Neil Peart
The Big Wheel, 1991

A New Word

2007-10-27T06:32:00.000-07:00

I learned a new word the other day:

aphorism - a tersely phrased statement of a truth or an opinion
American Heritage Dictionary

I work for the library and a little book by Franz Kafka came across my desk called The Zurau Aphorisms. Because it was Kafka I opened it to find short statements on each page reflecting on some generality of life. I immediately recognized the structure and said to myself "This is what I do." Have I been writing aphorisms and not known it? I always called them quotes but this was a better, more intellectual sounding word. I wanted to mention it because I've decided to start using it in my vocabulary and here on this blog. If I quote some other source than I will call it a quote but anything I write I will call an aphorism. I'll give a couple of examples to give a clearer idea of what I mean and these two intertwine nicely as a succinct picture of my view of the people I must interact with on a daily basis.

"I believe in no gods and I have no loyalties beyond my family and kin."
David Ege, 2006

With this, I wanted to express my beliefs very clearly. The only people in the world that really matter to me are my family and extended family (I like to use the word kin because I like old-timey sayings). This is my Sacred Canopy. The only people that can have any impact on my worldview and life. I have no loyalties to gods, country, or industries that supersede my dedication to these individuals. I consider my family to be my own relatives and my wife's family as we are now united in blood through our children. My kin are all those friends I've had for over 15 years. If we've stayed close for that long it's like family to me. Some people I've met in recent years have reached this status in my mind because of friendships formed outside the convenience of school/workplace relationships. We usually share common interests and worldviews so I feel a deeper connection. Most people I meet are just acquaintances even though in their mind we may be the best of friends. Which leads to my second aphorism:

"I care more about the shit I took this morning than I do about you."
David Ege, 2006

I don't say this just to be rude and get a rise out of people (although I am amused at how offended people get). I usually whip this out when I'm so annoyed with talking with an asinine coworker that I can't stand it anymore. I try to explain that I'm just trying to make a point but they're too caught up in being compared to shit to listen. Most people mean so little to me that I know they will have no bearing on how I conduct my life. I don't care what they say, I don't care what they think. It just doesn't affect me. That shit I took does affect me, it might indicate health problems that will impact my life. I don't debate people. Why should I waste my breath trying to change anybody's mind? These people don't mean anything. Believe whatever you want, just don't push it on me. I respect your right to think however you want so please respect mine. That's why I always say if anyone doesn't want to hear what I have to say just tell me. I'm not trying to convince anyone of anything, I'm just compelled to express my thoughts so writing and sharing them helps me clarify my own understanding. People often think I'm their best friend because I'm really good at feigning interest in whatever they're into. Who am I to tell anyone what they should enjoy in this life? You love to bowl? I'll listen to your stories of technique and scores even though I don't understand them. You're really into model trains? Cool, I can rap about that too. I rarely, if ever, challenge people when they're spouting off unless it's to point out a fallacy in their argument in order to prod their critical thinking skills. Like in the case of the hardcore Republican I worked with who was going off on how Republicans have more integrity than Democrats because when Democrats do something wrong they try to hide it but a Republican steps right up and admits to the wrongdoing. "But if they have so much integrity why are they doing something wrong in the first place?" He was stunned into silence. I wasn't trying to argue with the guy I just wanted him to see he needed to think about what he was saying more critically.

I studied Greek and Roman literature in college and came across this wonderful life lesson from the surviving works of a Greek 'squirearch', a man of standing in his city:

"Pretend in speech to be the friend to everyone, but share with no one anything at all that matters, or you'll find those wretched characters cannot be trusted in the reckoning."
Theognis, c. Late 7th to middle 6th century B.C.E

The only people I tell important things to are my family and kin. People I truly love and feel may accept or offer a meaningful insight.

The Sacred and The Profane

2007-10-25T16:27:00.000-07:00

The French scholar, Emile Durkheim, is known as the father of sociology. In the late 1800's, he established the discipline as a legitimate field of study because he felt that society influenced all other spheres of human life. We are born into social structures, they shape our development into adulthood, and they continue after we die. Durkheim asserted that religion was a construct of society. The group is more important than the individual and religion acts as a reminder that individuals should sacrifice themselves for the greater good of society as a whole. Rituals and ceremonies must exist as the reinforcement mechanism and religious beliefs grow out of this. Beliefs can change over time but it is the rituals that are the constant. Society determines religion. Many critics have since disputed Durkheim's assumptions as an attempt to reduce religion to only an aspect of societal structures. Most agree that religion does serve as a social function that reinforces group solidarity, but this is not its sole function.

I mention Durkheim and his work for two reasons. First, I agree with his general premise that society has a great influence on human beings by establishing order and determining what is "normal." I feel that instances of mob mentality and persecution of "outsider" groups attest to this. I personally know it is difficult to not feel societal pressures especially in such areas as disciplining children in public where I don't want to be seen as a "bad" parent and must overcome this by telling myself "Fuck them! They can raise unruly bastards if they want. My kids will know to listen and act properly, it will serve them better in the long run." Second, Durkheim introduced terminology that I love and have taken into my vocabulary even though I have adapted the meanings to my own purposes. Durkheim spoke of the sacred and the profane. This was not a distinction between a natural and supernatural world. He saw sacred things as "superior. powerful, forbidden to normal contact, and deserving of great respect" and profane things as "ordinary, uneventful, and practical routine of everyday life" (Pals, 1996, p.99). The sacred always involved the greater concerns of the group while the profane was the realm of the individual. Durkheim lumps magic into the profane as this was more concerned with a single person rather than a group dynamic. This doesn't make sense to me and I think that magic should be considered part of the sacred.

I disagree with Durkheim's definitions because of their emphasis on the group versus the individual. I use these terms more as a distinction between the physical world and the realm of mystical concepts and ideas. To me, the Profane is the everyday world we are forced to live in. The societal structures we are forced to assimilate to in order to maintain an orderly society. The Sacred is the unknowable. The true reason we are here is to understand this unknown and its place in the human experience. This is why I would have a hard time when people would ask me "What do you want to do with your life?" Even now that I have decided on a "career" they ask me " What kind of librarian do you want to be?" as if I'm supposed to dedicate my life to this Profane world. I can't think of anything that I would waste my limited time and energy on other than the pursuit of the Sacred. I don't WANT to work, society FORCES me to work because I need money for other necessities like food, clothing, and shelter. My true purpose here is to understand that world that is just below the surface of this reality. I think that this is my real problem with religion, it offers a prepackaged path to the Sacred so people never have to seek it out for themselves. Instead they can focus on the profane things like accumulating wealth and trying to impress the masses. Durkheim's mistake was in thinking too small. The group he spoke of is not single cultures but all human beings. We all need to consciously seek to understand the Sacred as individuals in order to promote the growth of the group that we are all inextricably tied to - the human race.

I once truly believed that all we know comes from the physical world so this must be all there is. I have since seen and experienced too may strange things that do not conform to the logical patterns of my physical senses. I consider these events as coming into contact with the Sacred. It seems that there is a pervasive phenomenon in human beings that many call god or magic. It stretches throughout history and manifests itself in the religions and beliefs of every culture around the world. The Sacred can and does exist in a myriad of forms. I often tell religious people that I can get to the edge of the precipice and acknowledge that the Sacred exists, but when they jump off shouting "God" or "Jesus" I'm left peering over saying "Are you sure?"

(I actually had to do some research for this one.)
Pals, Daniel L. Seven Theories of Religion. New York: Oxford University Press, 1996.

That Was Strange

2007-10-22T05:31:00.000-07:00

"There's some strange shit going on here, Coleman."
Billy Ray Valentine
Trading Places, 1983

I can still remember the first sign I ever saw. When I was in high school, our garage was the hangout spot. That's where we would gather to drink and smoke. I guess my mom always figured it was best if we were in one place rather than out roaming the streets. She never bought us any beer but she never really questioned the bags of cans piling up on the patio either. (CORRECTION: According to my brother, Steve, my mom bought alcohol all the time. I can't remember, I was more of a smoker than a drinker anyway.) We never threw any huge parties, there was always a tight knit core group with a few stragglers here and there every once in a while. We ranged in age from 17 to 20 with myself being the youngest and a friend being the oldest. There was me, my brothers, Steve and Josh, my cousins, Justin and Roger, Wayne, Otto, Alex, Rob, Darren, Mike, John, Heather, and Niki. We had some great times. We'd listen to music and just talk and laugh all night. My brother, Josh, even got a pool table and I wonder now how the neighbors put up with the noise. Alex was a bit of an odd duck and he used to buy this stuff called sweetgrass from a Native American store which we'd burn to cover up the smell of smoke. It was a million times better than incense because it didn't leave that bitter smell in your nose. He also saw us as a little tribe and one day he tried to fashion a medicine wheel from a stick bent into a circle and fastened with a rope. He never finished it but he hung it on the wall as a representation of our circle of friends. Those were the greatest times of my life. Not a care in the world. No thought of the future. Just pure laughter and enjoyment.

As my senior year came to an end, we were seeing each other less and less. One day I was in the garage by myself getting high and I lit some sweetgrass. Sweetgrass is woven into a braid so as it burns it starts to fall apart when it gets to the end. I remember staring at the embers and a big chunk fell loose and struck the ground. A perfect smoke ring puffed out upon impact and drifted lazily upward. I watched as one side caught the remaining braid and tore the ring. The rest of the smoke straightened out into an arrow with one end even having a pointed head. The arrow made a couple spins and pointed toward the wall before dissipating. I looked over at the wall and there was our friendship/medicine wheel.

At the time, I was completely blown away. Never having witnessed any sort of mystical event, I remember thinking "What a strange coincidence." My logical mind told me that this must be the kind of stuff people see and take as "signs from God." I could interpret this as meaning our circle of friends would be broken, but I know the universe is just totally random so I didn't put much thought into it. I just cataloged it into my memories as an interesting event. Although we stayed close after high school, those days in the garage were over as people got old enough to go out to bars or, in my case, moved away. I realize now that this was my first contact with the Sacred. As I got older I would see more and more strange things that reminded me of that day in the garage and I was forced to alter my view of the world as random, meaningless events. Something was reaching out to me but without a traditional religious upbringing I never called it "God." My mind was open to something beyond this physical world we live in and I've been trying to make sense of it ever since.

Read the Signs

2007-10-13T10:53:00.000-07:00

The year is 1971. Bad Bobby Hughes and his crew have taken to robbing pharmacies and hospitals to get their drug fix. The best drugs can be found there: valium, cocaine, dilaudid. Members of the crew cause a diversion to distract staff while Bob goes to work in unsupervised areas stealing only the best. After a successful score, everyone in the crew indulges, basking in their good fortune of not only the score itself but also outsmarting the cops who raid their pad. Nadine, the youngest and newest member of the crew, pipes up that she would like to get a little dog for company when the others are out working. Bob's mood turns sullen. "No fucking dogs," he responds. Confused, Nadine pushes the issue and Bob really becomes upset. Diane, Bob's wife, explains that the two had previously owned a dog that ran away while they were doing a job and led the cops right to them. The couple was jailed and the dog was put to sleep. Bob is visually distraught during the recounting of the story and tries to ignore it by watching TV. But dogs appear on every station he flips to and he realizes that something bad has happened. Bob's life is ruled by luck and he knows when it's running good or bad, and this is a bad omen. He snaps at Nadine that she just put a 30 day hex on their activities just by mentioning dogs in their home. Since they're already shut down he tells the crew of other things that should not be done or spoken of for fear of greater consequences. Later that night, while Diane tries to console him, Bob explains why he thinks the way he does.
"Hell, I can't figure it out. I just know, from years of experience, the things to look for...and the signs...and y'know it's like whoever's managing such things is saying "Go out there and get it. It's there for the taking, kid. Everything's free this week. I'll let you know when your time's up." Y'gotta see the signs. Hell, all you gotta do is look for the signs."
Drugstore Cowboy, 1989

When I was still in the mind of a random universe I started seeing strange things that would make me say to myself "Man, that could be interpreted as meaning such-and-such." At the time, I just put them off as random coincidences that religious people might find meaning in. I knew it didn't really mean anything. Every now and again something would happen and I'd always take note, "Hey, there's another one." The more it kept happening, the more I couldn't ignore it. It seemed that once I decided to recognize these events as more than random occurrences, the more they seemed to appear. I kept my thoughts to myself and realized that had I lived 2000 years or more ago I would have probably been some kind of divinator reading the flights of birds and the entrails of animals. When I finally opened up about it to my best friend I seemed to draw him into this sphere with strange things happening between the two of us. Now I am fully ensconced in this way of thinking and I know that the world is not as random as I once perceived. I take note of every little detail of life as it happens and my decisions and actions are influenced by how I interpret little signs that seem to appear from nowhere. Like Bobby Hughes, these signs mean little or nothing to other people but they have lasting effects on how I live my life. I know how to read them and that's all that matters. This newfound belief has increased my inquiry into how reality is constructed and I wonder how much my own mind influences what I encounter in the everyday world. I am fascinated by the magic world of shamans from all cultures that has suffered under the strain of organized religions trying to eradicate this old belief system in order to impose the idea that these realms are beyond our reach and only attainable by "God." I think all humans possess these abilities but choose to ignore them. You just gotta open your mind and read the signs.

Our Sacred Canopy

2007-10-08T16:22:00.000-07:00

Sociologists of religion describe our worldview as our sacred canopy. All of the views we have about the world are verified and reinforced by the people we surround ourselves with. This includes our ideas about politics, race, relationships, and religion. A person raised in a strict religious community will feel challenged by a different religious belief because it comes from outside their group. The group provides stability and a sense of identity so all outside forces are seen as opposition. This is how "cults" are formed when members are cut off from outside contact. Although, I've heard a strong argument that all organized religions have the same characteristics as "cults" (i.e. strong leader, strict rules, absolute obedience) but it's the number of people who believe in the "religion" that decides its legitimacy. Thirty-eight people killing themselves to get on a spaceship must be crazy, can't they just be like the millions waiting for Jesus to come back from heaven? The group belief reassures the believer that they're not crazy and this is the main function of the sacred canopy.

An individual thinking or acting a certain way is able to evaluate and question their thoughts and actions. This is always done in regard to what other people are doing, probably due to our nature as communal creatures. If others are doing the same thing, then we can justify our actions to ourselves as this being "normal" human activity. Humans surround themselves with people that think and act like themselves in order to maintain this sense of being "normal." All of our friends and family members constitute our sacred canopy. Our freewill allows us to select those who provide the necessary support and excise anyone we disagree with, including blood relations. If no one in that important sacred canopy is questioning the mythology of any given religion, then the adherents have no reason to change their way of thinking. Outsiders are outsiders, the Devil sent to crack the armor and move in for the kill. But just because a lot of people believe something doesn't make it normal or true.

One of the greatest films of all time, Goodfellas, comes from a book called Wiseguy by Nicholas Pileggi. This is the story of Henry Hill, a low level earner for the New York Luchesse mafia family, who made a living as a bookie/extortionist/drug dealer for almost 20 years until he was caught and turned in all of his associates. During his life of crime, Henry met and married a girl from a nice Jewish family named Karen. Karen had no previous criminal inclinations like most mafia wives who were Italian and grew up knowing about the mob and its activities because of relatives: fathers, uncles, cousins. Karen knew that Henry was breaking the law and did, at first, question his actions but eventually accepted his life. She stated that this acceptance came about from being around no one but mobsters on a consistent basis. Everyone's breaking the law, hurting people, and "earning" money so it all became very "normal." No outsiders were let in to question the lifestyle so it was easy to go along with.

Another instance of the formation of a sacred canopy comes as a direct result of the digital age we live in. Am I the only one that has noticed the explosion of strange fetishes since the proliferation of the internet? Billy Joe Jim Bob in the hills really loves to have sex with his horse, but he keeps it to himself. Then the Worldwide Web comes along and he finds people from all over the world who like the same thing, they form a club, and this group acceptance justifies their right to enjoy sex with a horse. "It's normal, everyone I know thinks it's acceptable."

My sacred canopy is made up of family and friends that enjoy laughing and having a good time. A key component of our relationship is that we don't discuss religion. I've been formulating my kooky ideas about religion for years but never brought them up because I thought my friends would have no interest. When I finally started to open up I was surprised when my brothers acknowledged and agreed with some of my premises saying things like "I've often thought like that" or "I thought I was the only one who noticed stuff like that." Were we influencing our sacred canopies without even knowing it? Were we creating a common sacred canopy through our discussion? I realized that there appeared to be something more going on in the construction of reality than I had previously thought. The way we perceive our reality creates our sacred canopy which is directly influenced by the social conditions we grow up in and the people we choose to interact with on a daily basis.

I'm a Storyteller

2007-09-22T11:09:00.000-07:00

Religion involves a lot of hindsight. The gods move in mysterious ways, you can never predict what they're going to do or how they're going to do it. Humans can only reflect on past events and say "God must have done this so that we can learn from it." This usually occurs after a tragedy or time of crisis because people couldn't possibly believe that God would put them through something so horrible. There MUST be some explanation, He/She/It is not evil.

My own system is not immune to this so my conclusion is that our brains NEED an explanation just to be able to cope with the overwhelming fear that if this is all meaningless then why go on living. It just so happens that my explanation is never "This must be God." I receive new information and use it to look back and say "Maybe I did/said THIS because of THIS." The strange thing for me is trying to figure out why I did/said the thing in the first place. I definitely had a reason to do what I did or said in that instance but hindsight and introspection allow me to say "Maybe I really meant something else." I couldn't possibly have known that there would be some future significance (impossible to predict the future, remember) but could I have known? I never asked the "Could I have known?" question until later in life. There were just some events in my life that really stood out in my memory and as I developed my life philosophy these memories came flooding back with new and powerful meanings.

At that very crucial age of 14, I became reacquainted with the girl that would become my wife (we'd known each other since the second grade). We were in junior high, sitting on the bench where my friends always gathered at lunch. She was expressing interest in me as a potential boyfriend by asking me questions about myself but I was totally oblivious to her coming on to me at the time. One of her questions really struck me as she asked how I identify myself. "So, what do you do?" she asked, "Your brother plays music, and the other is a skater, what are you?" "I'm a storyteller," I answered without hesitation. The response was almost immediate and I definitely had a reason to offer my answer because I had been making up and writing stories since elementary school. But its significance really shaped my entire life afterwards. I am a storyteller. I've tried to ignore it, trepidly pursued it, but the compulsion has never left me. I'm telling these stories now and I've never felt such enjoyment in doing anything else. Stories are my life. Stories are the essence of all life, and I'm a storyteller.

Oh-oh-oh it's Magic

2007-09-17T16:29:00.000-07:00

I love comic books. My brothers and I collected them when I was young in the early 1980s. We were reading the heyday of the Chris Claremont/Dave Cockrum X-men, the Marv Wolfman/ George Perez New Teen Titans, and Frank Miller's Daredevil. We even collected the independently published Elfquest, The Spirit, and Cerebus (although the adult themes of these comics had to be revisited later in life for full comprehension). I lost interest as I became a teen because I was too punk rock to read comics. Just before high school, everyone around me turned into a punk or a goth. I had lost my singular identity and quickly had to alter my image to not look like everybody else. Comics were my salvation. I started collecting again and even fashioned a new wardrobe with shirts of comic book characters and designs by the artist M.C. Escher.

I started collecting every title I ,well, my grandma could afford. Mostly superheroes from both DC and Marvel Comics but the store I frequented, Comics Unlimited, also stocked a variety of new independent titles and had a large selection of back issues. I would usually pick up number one issues for investment purposes and this also got me in on brand new stories. One such title opened my eyes to comics as literature at a time, 1989/1990, when comics were still seen as kiddie fare. A guitar player we knew at the time, Alexander, had once asked me about a comic called Sandman so I was familiar with that title but never sought it out. One day I walked into my comic shop and picked up the number one issue of a book called Shade, The Changing Man by Peter Milligan and Chris Bachalo. It was an acid-fuelled road trip published by DC Comics when they were first venturing into comics for mature readers and I was immediately hooked. The shop even printed a flyer when Shade came out to highlight similar titles by the publisher: Sandman, Swamp Thing, Doom Patrol, Animal Man, and Hellblazer. The men behind these stories became my favorite writers and have cult followings now, but at the time I was constantly arguing the superiority of their multi-layered stories against readers of Quasar or The Infinity War. Alan Moore, Grant Morrison, Jamie Delano, Neil Gaiman, and, later, Garth Ennis. Check out anything they've done, it's brilliant. The first 25 issues of Animal Man constitute the greatest story ever told in comics. A few years later, DC Comics created the Vertigo imprint for all their mature reader books which is still going strong today.

My logical world of randomness and odds was thrown out of whack by the introduction of a new concept, magic. Alan Moore introduced the magician, John Constantine, in the pages of Swamp Thing but I became familiar with him when he was already having his own adventures in the comic Hellblazer by Jamie Delano. (Yes, there was a shitty movie called Constantine with Keeno Reeves but please be like me and pretend it doesn't exist, it has nothing to do with the comic besides the title character from what I've heard.) John Constantine was no top hat wearing magician, he was a crusty, chain-smoking, trench coat wearing Brit. He conned demons and murdered his friends, anything to to keep himself alive. You never really saw him actually "do" any magic, he just understood its history and laws and could make it work for him as needed. He was all attitude, swagger, and a little luck. Fucking awesome. This was one of the first, if not the first, quotes I ever memorized:

"He dances on the edge of the known, like a crazy man, pitting himself against Heaven and the Pit, because he is John Constantine; and because he is alive"
Neil Gaiman
The Books of Magic, Book III, 1991

I used to reverse the last two lines though. It just sounded cooler to me: "Because he is alive and because he is John Constantine." He's crazy, that's just him. Garth Ennis took over writing Hellblazer at issue 41 and, unbelievably, the stories got even better. By that time, I was living in Oregon and calling Cypress to discuss how awesome a comic book was with my friend Otto (the only other reader I knew at the time). I wanted to be John Constantine. To be outside all boundaries and to be able to manipulate this power called "magic."

I became very interested in the Occult and picked up books like The Necronomicon and The Satanic Bible. Actually, I had my friend pay for The Necronomicon because I didn't want to be "cursed." I hadn't yet realized the meaninglessness of everything but this did reveal to me that things like curses and spells weren't real. I read other books about nature magic, crystals and things, but never truly believed it was real so the "spells" never worked for me. This reading, coupled with the stories of John Constantine led me to formulate my own understanding of what magic was and how it worked.

Magic is not chants and spells. Magic is the will of the mind. More specifically, it is the will of the subconscious mind. You focus on a desired outcome and then never think about it again. If you constantly focus on what you want then it won't happen because you're already telling the story in your head and creating an ending. It is impossible to predict the future so you automatically negate the possibility of success by trying to predetermine the outcome. You should think of the desired outcome once and then forget it. If it comes into your head, don't focus on it, try to think of something else. This increases the chances for success because you're not trying to force your will onto reality, you're just allowing it to happen. The story will unfold exactly the way it's supposed to, not always the way you desired, but the way it's supposed to. You don't even have to try.

These revelations completely changed my worldview. I now had magic to work with and manipulate. This also lead me to write my own words of wisdom:

"Do you know how you do magic? You don't."
David Ege, 1991

I know.

2007-09-11T15:48:00.000-07:00

The darkened room hummed with an orange glow. Ugnaughts scurried about flicking switches and checking levels amid the belching fog. Boba Fett and a squad of Stormtroopers led Han Solo, Princess Leia, and Chewbacca to the carbon freezing chamber of Cloud City. The freezing process was designed for cargo but Darth Vader planned to test it on Han Solo before capturing the Emperor's prize, Luke Skywalker. As the troopers approached Han, the Wookie sprang into action in an attempt to save his companion. But before a shot was fired he was quieted by Solo who charged him with the mission of protecting the princess. The growing attraction between the pristine princess and the rugged smuggler erupted in a passionate kiss. As they were pulled apart, Leia felt a sudden compulsion to voice her feelings at this moment of imminent death.
"I love you," she cried.
"I know," Solo replied.
The Empire Strikes Back, 1980

I, like most people, always took this as a sign of the arrogance of the pirate, Han Solo. In recent years I have come to change my opinion largely based on the relationship I have with my best friend of 24 years. We grew up down the street from each other but our troubled teenage years led to his moving to live with his mom about 20 minutes away. This doesn't sound very far now but at 16, with no vehicle, it could have resulted in us never seeing each other again. He started at a new high school and made a new group of friends. Now we can see that this was for the best because we managed to graduate but we could have easily parted ways if we BOTH hadn't worked hard on remaining friends. It must have been at this stage that we learned the value of reciprocation in a relationship. It was never one-sided with one person doing all the travelling or calling, we both made the effort. There was even a short period after high school when we stopped speaking for undisclosed reasons (parents and spouses may be reading this) but the relationship remained. This was like a band that just needed to break up to remind themselves how special the relationship was, eventually we'd be back together. And sure enough, we were.

Nowadays I call him brother rather than friend and I take advantage of his skills and generosity but he knows I'll get him back. Maybe not immediately, but it's coming. I know I owe him. Through it all I don't think we've ever told each other how much we love each other (except in moments of sloppy drunkenness). We just know.

I like to think now that this is what Han Solo was saying. Princess Leia had never told him what he meant to her and she didn't want him to die without knowing. His response was not so much arrogance as confirmation. "I know," you don't even have to say it. I already know. Saying the words can be reassuring to both speaker and listener and I'm not saying that you shouldn't tell people you love them. I'm saying that we should all strive to reach a point where everything we do reminds those special people how much they mean to us. And if in some desperate moment I feel the need to tell my best friend "I love you," I would hope - hell - I would expect his response to be "I know."

Pray to the Odds

2007-09-08T17:11:00.000-07:00

When I was a teen and first developing a philosophy of life I was already sure that none of the existing religions would work for me. There were too many people believing too many different things for me to say "This is the definite answer to all the philosophical questions of life." I hadn't actually come into contact with a large number of people with different religious backgrounds (I had a Jewish friend in elementary school) but I seemed to know and understand that people believed different things (did my mom teach me that?). Without any foundation providing a preconceived notion of the universe I just gathered the information around me and made a logical conclusion of how it all worked. The universe is totally random. Some things happened to some people and some things happened to others. There was no ryhme or reason to it, it just happened that way. There was no question of Why?, it just happened that way.

"Why are we here
Because were here
Roll the bones"
Neil Peart
Roll the Bones, 1991

All I questioned was how do the things happen. Well, there's a chance something WILL happen and a chance that it WON'T happen. Two possible outcomes give odds on whether an event will go one way or the other. I believed in odds not gods (I was also very taken with the wordplay in the rhyming of the two words). Many factors influence the outcome that we have no control over so we can only hope that the odds are in our favor. We can't do anything to alter them, all we can do is wait to see how things turn out. It's totally random.

I must also admit that around this same time I was already into challenging what people thought they "knew." I enjoyed saying and doing things that made them think, probably because I knew that I didn't "know" anything so why is everyone walking around so sure of themselves. They just never took the time to ask that vitally important question, Why? Why do I think like this? Why do I act like this? Why do I believe this? This may sound like a lot of deep thinking for a 15/16 year old but I had been getting high on marijuana since I was 13 and I ditched a lot of school which gave me a lot of free time to sit and think (being in my mom's garage still puts me in this mindset).

I was very lucky, and proud, that I did not become one more of the mindless "sheep" roaming the high school halls. Going into junior high I was trying very hard to fit in with my older brother's surfer/skater crowd because I just wanted to be accepted. Within a year, upon entering 8th grade, my oldest brother transformed me into a punk rocker (Thanks, Steve!). Black clothes and spiky hair were rare in 1987 in my school and I really had a chance to stand out. I wasn't like anybody else and it felt good. From then on I knew that I didn't want to be like anybody else. At that crucial stage when I was developing my own identity, I based everything I did on the fact that no one else was doing it (I still do). My identity was defined in opposition to others. I didn't believe in gods just because everyone else did. Show me some evidence, convince me. No one could. I'll believe in my odds, thank you very much.

Do Deeds of Song!

2007-09-04T16:27:00.001-07:00

The city of Minas Tirith was burning. Minas Tirith, last bastion in the West, defended by the descendants of the Kings from across the Sea. Sauron, the Dark Lord, had unleashed the full onslaught of his war and the land of Mordor was emptied. The Dark Army filled the Pelennor Fields outside the gates of the city with trenches of fire and engines of war. The people had the will to resist but not the strength. They had called for aid from their allies in the North, the Riders of Rohan. The Mark of Rohan was a kingdom of horsemen who honored the ancient pact of friendship and set out to war following their king, Theoden. But the messenger telling of their coming was killed and the people of Minas Tirith had no idea if the Riders would come. The Riders reached the fields, 6000 strong, just as the great battering ram, Grond, smashed the gates that no enemy had ever passed. With blaring horns, the Riders broke upon the backs of the enemy who were revelling in the fall of the gates. The tide seemed to turn as the Black Captain, the Lord of the Nazgul, was slain, but King Theoden was also killed in the melee. Before he died he passed the crown to his sister-son, Eomer, who became king in the midst of battle. Although they were outnumbered, the ferocity of the Riders still seemed like it might win the day. But lo! coming up the the Great River was a fleet of black ships with black sails carrying more servants of the Enemy. The cause was surely lost with these reinforcements and King Eomer had to make a decision. To run and save his people if he could, or do what had to be done.

"Stern now was Eomer's mood and his mind clear again. He let blow the horns to rally all men to his banner that could come thither; for he thought to make a great shield-wall at the last, and stand, and fight there on foot till all fell, and do deeds of song on the fields of Pelennor, though no man should be left in the West to remember the last King of the Mark. So he rode to a green hillock and there set his banner, and the white horse ran rippling in the wind."
J.R.R. Tolkien
The Return of the King, 1955
The Battle of the Pelennor Fields

How do you react when faced with a challenge? A challenge you can not win? How do you face the everyday challenges of life? All the thankless things that you do just because you know you have to do them?

You stand. And fight. And do deeds of song. Not just the bare minimum. Not just enough. You should strive to do things that others would praise and make songs about if only they knew what you went through. But you do not do it because others will remember and sing of it, you do it because no one will ever know. You do it because you will know. In your heart and mind you will know that you did your best. And that is the only place that anything truly matters.