Go out on a Friday night. Do it. Go out, and go to a music club place where many people go to see shows, and see all the people who are out on a noche Sabado ready to have a good old time. Don't worry about whether they rode their bike to where they're at. Don't worry about whether they voted, or if they did whether they voted republican or democrat. Don't worry about whether they know the real deal with Iraq and Afghanistan and Vietnam and all that shit, or whether they instead have bought in to the company line about Operation Infinite Freedom or whatever the fuck they're calling it nowadays. Fuck all that shit. Just go out, and look at all these people, lined up to get into some show where some band you may or may not even like is about to rock their asses off, or croon lullabyes to them, or make them cum in their pants with soft moaning. They know this is going to happen; they've listened to the album. They've played the mp3s in their Ipods while smashing bottles outside the Plaid Pantry. They've played the mix-CD their lovers made while fucking in their parents' beds. They know what they're in for, and they can't fucking wait. |
That's what the first quarter represents, to me. It's that anxious energy, that feeling that Something is about to happen, and it's going to be Something Big And Awesome, and Nothing Is Going To Be The Same Afterwards. It's such a contagious feeling, too. I was just at the Plaid Pantry earlier tonight, getting more self-medication for my ADD in the form of two tallboys of cheap beer, when the mood hit me from all the people around. I got in line, and I could feel the tension built up around me in all the people waiting to get their beer or beef jerky or bubble gum and soda paid for and out the door and back to their respective tribes to get on with whatever celebration their tribal group had figured on having. Things haven't changed so much over the last few thousand years.
I want you people to all go out and look at that big bad bitch in the sky. She's our sister. She gives us light in the dark. When there's no starlight left in this light-polluted cityscape we call home, She's the one who still shines and shows us the way to morning. When the world moves on, and there's no more cheap oil, and all the people who want to live are scratching our ways through what's left, trying to eke out what existence we can, She's still going to be there, lighting our way through the scary forest and back into the real life. You know; the one we had before we created the big machine.
So worship her, even though you are an "atheist" (no one is, really). Even though you subscribe to some mythos that doesn't place Her in very high standing. Worship Her for the power-bringing goddess that She is. Watch Her as She grows bigger over the next week, finally reaching Her peak the day after the Christians' favorite. Feel yourself grow more powerfull, more Alive as this happens.
Winter is not a time of death for us; it's a time of celebration. We celebrate because we finally got the joke of existence and figured out how to not go hungry when all the annuals went back to the earth and the little furry creatures did the same. The moon reminds us of this, and I think it only fitting that the night which most Americans take as the night after the culmination of the year is going to be one in which Ms Moon is at Her fullest.
Life is a horrendous, monstrous thing (if you listen to Joseph Campbell, anyway), and figuring out Wintertime was the turning point in our existence. It showed us that we really are, for good or evil or neutrality, the masters of our own destiny. The problem is that there are many of "us" and only one destiny to share. Hopefully the impending "catastrophe" will shatter our silly system and allow us to lead more individualistic existences without harming each other. But for now, I encourage you all to observe your fellow humyns as they participate in the celebration of Winter, every day from here to solstice and then to full moon getting more intense and more life-affirming. Let's admire our fellow humyns for their humanity, and forgive them their tresspasses and their pollutions, as they forgive ours in return. Let's dance to their music and sing their songs, and use this time to reconnect with what it is to be part of such a huge mishmash culture as that which we have now. It's not going to last forever, you know. Probably not even for very much longer.
Until that day.
Into the line into the light
I see it fine I see it fight
Into the line into the light
Our hearts entwine a new horizon
Remember when bleached into white
Your time again kept out of sight
Standing in the light
Always sitting on the line
Never on a side
Always wanting to be right pushing out the light
Standing in the light
I never wanted to be right
Now I'm attracted by the light
And blinded my the sight
Dead ahead in the night
Burning in the light
And knowing that it's right
Driving in the night-dead ahead in the light......
Into the light......
Once I had a little game
I liked to crawl back in my brain
I think you know the game I mean
I mean the game called 'go insane'
Now you should try this little game
Just close your eyes forget your name
Forget the world, forget the people
And we'll erect a different steeple.
This little game is fun to do.
Just close your eyes, no way to lose.
And I'm right here, I'm going too.
Release control, we're breaking through.
Attribution is for suckers.
PS click the link to find out about Moon mythos. It's groovy.