Monday, September 17, 2012

Traps, Churches in Europe



        "Inventor couldn't have said it better," Asisfour joked, "or did he?"

        "Man, you are irritating sometimes, and no one would get that joke anyway. So where do the new ideas come in? I don't think 5D objects popping in and out of our 4D universe would be anything new. I'm thinking fresh, something vibrant, something in soft Earth-tone colors and maybe refracted lighting. Sorry, I was thinking about fixing up the office. I also think playing God with a 3D universe would be a bit predictable too, given my name and all, but I don't want to rule that out either. Nothings off the table except peaches. After all, didn't The Da Vinci Code say that the god of the 3D Universe is a woman?"

        "Well, if life's a bitch then why can't God..., um, I think you risk losing the fundamentalists."

        "Then we'll just have to find them again. You know they always hang out around the same places for centuries anyway," she mused putting her feet up on her desk. "Movin' on baby, never seem to touch the ground," she sang.

        "Baaad Company, till the day we die." Asisfour sang back. "Ok, they're gone for good. I feel lighter now." ...





          When I was in Eastern Europe, in the former Soviet Union, one of the "attractions" for tourists, no doubt for "educational" purposes was where they tortured people, and most likely killed people too, sometimes after torturing them, sometimes during. My sense of sensibility told me to stay away from these places, for good reason.

          One place I did get near to was a rock where not a few people were tortured and killed but many people ceremoniously over many many more years than the Soviet Union existed, and long before the Russians came to town centuries earlier. I did not even need to see the plaque to know what went on there, there was a darkness to that rock, a palpable chill when I got closer to it and knew better than to get too close.

          Like many of such "sacred" places, that was where the first churches were set up. Christianity has a dark side much deeper than the Spanish Inquisition. It goes back nearly as far as the religion itself, and it was integral to how it spread itself to be a "world religion". To be relateable to the local Europeans, Christianity adapted itself not only to the locations where humans were sacrificed and tortured, but adopted the same language as well. A "powerful God" "sacrificed" and allowed the "torture" of his "only Son" for YOU and to give you your life, and you owe him your respect and allegiance, and if you do fail to do so and obey the rules he has stated that you must follow, he will TORTURE YOU, and not just for a little while as he did allowed when he gave up his Son for you, but  F O R E V E R ! ! ! Are we not being clear here? Want us to act it out a bit then? You know we will.



        In continuing the theme of sometimes using this blog to give the backstory of posts for my other blog, Truthrevival.org (itself needing some revival of its own lately these last few years), I will attempt some backstory to the 3 planned (now past) retrospectives or "clip show" posts. The first and the third were to be connected and both dealt with the idea of a disaster (nuclear) averted with Iran. ...

        Thinking I was dying (at times my health was very bad) or that WW III (most won't know how close we came) was about to happen unnecessarily, that time was running out so to speak, trying to force open that door was really the only logical thing to do. Stones not overturned and soon seemed no longer able to be reasonably put off and still have time to be overturned later.

        At one point my health was so poor, heartbeat so irregular I went into Walmart before going home. I feared I might not even make it through the night and wanted to be around people just in case that would be my last chance to see people at all. It is not a perspective that comes cheaply or is sought after, but is rewarding. It is wanting nothing from anyone, just to see what there is to see if a few more hours or a few more days is all that you have.




    In driving through Northern California, I wanted to take a short cut through the mountains. My map said there was a road there, even with a highway number, yet that was not what I was seeing. The road kept getting narrower and narrower. I was torn between whether I should keep going or turn around, thinking I was lost. What I was seeing looked somewhat like the map said to expect, but the road sure as hell was beginning not to look like a road anymore.

    Eventually, I decided to stop and look around. I was long past any houses to ask anyone where I was, but I saw a big, what looked like a redwood tree, and decided to go check it out. There were many trees around like that but smaller, but since I was torn between keeping going and turning around, I figured to stop, go up to the giant tree to check it out, and think about whether to keep on going or turn back.

    At the tree I was some distance from my car, not far, but enough to see it a ways away. Then I looked ahead to see where the road was going, to see if I thought it would get worse or more narrow. Then I looked back on where I came from. I got the feeling I was not seeing something, like there was something there which I was just not catching. I looked again to my car from being in the woods, then to the road ahead then back where I came from again thinking there is something here I am not seeing but should. Suddenly, everything seemed a lot different. “Get out, NOW!”

    That was the feeling I had. I have been in lots of places where people are not around before. Occasionally I might think, this is not a safe place. What if I was to come across a bad person out here in the middle of nowhere? But I don’t think I had ever before looked at where I was as being a defensible or indefensible position before. What I saw was different. Why it hit me emotionally as fear, bordering on panic, that I did not know but pretty much my whole being was screaming out, MOVE, NOW!!!

    So I did. No longer was I just looking at trees and nature. I was desperately trying to get out of that area as fast as possible, but that was not very fast because it was not possible to do it in any way resembling fast. What I saw from being out in the woods was, from that point and many points, a person could walk up to the car with a gun, and you could not drive away in either direction. You might not realize it at first. You could drive for 30 seconds or more thinking you were getting away and all the person would have to do is casually walk over and cut you off. If you got past that point, again, he could just walk further and be ahead of you again. And in either direction.

    Literally, the car would not help you in any way, it would be like sitting in a coffin. Your only chance would be to leave it behind and run off blindly into the woods without knowing what might be ahead. I never looked at things in these terms before but something told me to keep looking until I saw that.

    I have been in dangerous situations before. This was not one though. A person can be vulnerable to being shot or having their car jacked at intersections in busy cities, suburbs, out in the country. All one would need I would think, not that I ever thought of it before this, is to act suddenly and catch someone off-guard. In this place, that did not matter. You were checkmated as long as you stayed in the car and tried to drive away. I had without knowing, at least at that moment, thought I had driven into a potential death trap.

    There is a reason for recounting this, as it was not just any woods. I found out a few months later people a few miles from there had been arrested for the most horrific of murders. I just tried now to write details of what they went through before being murdered, but had to stop, delete, and do it over. I will leave it to say that even the most hardened terrorists or torturers would say, those people were pretty damn sick.

    It could have been a coincidence or the murder/kidnappings may have usually happened a mile two from there. I may just have noticed something I never thought about before. But the fear made me think about it long after. I do not usually live with fear. Such thinking I am lucky, usually, at least up until that point, I never experienced like that which is why it made an impression on me. Panicking like that was memorable, such that I would have thought it odd, even if I did not hear later about the murders in that area, dozens of people, all ages, the same way. Not just killed but “played with” in the most horrific ways before killing them.

    I have no way knowing if my reaction had anything to do with those events, and again, they may have been abducted anywhere along that road, or even off a different road further away from their house for all I know. But I saw at that point what I thought could happen there long before hearing about it, and what I thought about what could happen scared the hell out of me.

    I can’t say I get premonitions exactly, and that certainly would not qualify as all that ended months before that. But I do pick up on things sometimes. Maybe something that did happen, maybe something that might. It makes me more curious about time, what it is, how it works, and its relationship to consciousness. Sometimes things seem to happen in a very predictable way to me, things which I cannot directly control, sometimes things even no one person or group could cause.

    In reaction to my father’s obsession with people who could predict the future, the countless psychics he wasted a lot of money and time on, I always said, I only believe in self-fulfilling prophecies because in a way, I believe that to be true. Yet sometimes, as smart as I think I am, sh*t happens which I do not understand and cannot explain. It does not bother me like it does most people. I just find it interesting, something to add to the list of the ten zillion other things about the Universe I don’t understand.

    Because I am highly intelligent, I can of course like most people, use reason and probability to try to predict what might cause what to happen later and living means having to do this all the time. There is no way to know for sure between what you are reasoning might happen or what you are thinking which is instead based on intuition. Each comes as a thought or feeling, but who can say, even the person experiencing it, what is causing it?

    As I said, danger and my life do not necessarily go together. I have been lucky in a lot of ways but also I have had my share of close calls with car accidents, being in dangerous situations, and the health problems alluded to in the previous posts. I can’t say death and me go way back, but I can say I have been through enough to have no feelings often about which way is best. I like living as most people do, but there are limits and many many things are more important to me than my own life. And I often have known or seen more than I cared to. Some things I can shut out or not think about, but I don’t buy that that makes me a better person for being able to do so. Usually I see it as a weakness.

    Situationally, I felt boxed in time-wise before the first political asylum attempt. As I said before, I was walking across a foot bridge at night with a person just standing in the middle looking in my direction. Then when about 50 feet away he took a picture with the camera he had been holding the whole time pointing in my direction. A flash went off and he turned and walked away and gave the camera to a person waiting in a car. I figured it was time to get a bit proactive. So many dead ends, or worse all around me, I struggled to find something which I could do which not only lead to me living a day or two longer, as I said previously I was well used to the idea of dying, but also which kept my freedom intact to be able to react to things going on. That I consider not only the best thing about me, my neutrality and trying to keep a distance from things going on, but I also consider that being able to act autonomously, that is what IS me.

    That first attempt seemed to throw things around me up in the air and gave me more time. After leaving the French Embassy about 20 to 25 minutes later someone who I assumed was intelligence related tried to “friend” me. He came rushing up to me in a square, asked me where I was going. Not that I am dishonest, but thought why not say. I saw no reason to not answer either, or to ignore the question. “The Swedish Embassy,” I replied. Then he pulled out a map and offered to try to find it, seconds later he was cupping his hand to his ear, gave a quick excuse and was gone. I only smiled. “Bye now.” ...


     But now getting to what I really wanted to write about, if I may not have much more time. Churches in Europe! The Coke and Pepsi Democracies repost from yesterday I like to think was the most honest thing I ever wrote about how I see the world of politics. That is not to imply that other things were less honest. That was written in the middle of the political asylum attempt when I figured situationally, there was no other considerations besides, what do I think about what I have learned about what is going on in the world, in Europe and America in particular since those systems were what I studied the most. I had no reputation to worry about, no likely future at all for those opinions to affect. More removed from the world in a non-person sort of way than even today. It is not to say I did not care but I finally thought I was gaining some kind of neutral observer level, or at least was as close to that as I would ever get, to be able to write, or even just see, from that viewpoint.

    Thus, though here the subject matter is less direct, I wanted to now talk about churches from an impartial point of view. I don’t include Mosques or Synagogues because I don’t know that much about them, nor am I a part of those religions. I am sure they are nice buildings to see, and definitely in some countries I would want to visit the more remarkable ones. I also did not differentiate between Catholic, Protestant, and Orthodox, etc. To me they are all different but still are all Christian, and thus the same. A lot to me about each is familiar, (I was raised Catholic,) and much about them seemed a bit off as well. The differences make them more interesting, at least to me anyway. 

    One of the best things about my trip to Europe was touring churches in various countries. Many of the churches were 700 years old or older, and though the oldest ones were not always the most notable, they were sometimes the most memorable.

    In France, Notre Dame Cathedral was probably the first notable church I saw and in the most obvious ways, the most awe-inspiring. When I saw the church my grand-parents went to in rural Quebec, I understood how that would have appeared 100 years ago. Still, in that region, the church is the only major tall structure. In a rural area a big church shows a different more impressive world to those who might never see a city. The religious buildings, even in small towns, are built to impress. And they don’t get much more impressive than Notre Dame. The artistry is amazing, no matter what century you are there in. It shows the talent of people even 700 years ago, in many ways can rival any artistry today on a level playing field.

    In Belgium, I was awed by the opposite. A tiny little church or chapel in the middle of Brussels just blew me away. I tried finding the name of it on Google but could not. It was I believe 900 years old, and not much more than a small room, but what a deep history in such a small space! Many hundreds of years of people being born or baptized there, getting married there, dying or having their funerals there, all within the same walls. Step out the door and you are in the 21st century, but step back in and it is like walking back to the 12th century, or 14th, or 16th, etc. etc. Amazing.

    In Finland, one gave probably my best memory of any of them. It was an Orthodox cathedral, (Uspenski Cathedral) I went into just as a tourist. The transition from the outside was just as amazing but not because the age of the church. In Finland, no one smiles at you on the street, period. If you smile at people, they look at you like you have offended or insulted them or like you are insane. One of their own tourism web sites carried the joke that if someone smiles at you on the street in Finland, it is either because a)  they are drunk, b) they are insane, c) they are American, or d) all of the above. They not only know that, they practically advertise it.

(Note: when looking to see if that joke was still around, (it is in various forms) I found this one which made me laugh.  A Finnish wife asks her software engineer husband "Hey, could you go to the shop for me and get a litre of milk? And if they have eggs, get six." The husband returns with six litres of milk. "Why on earth did you buy six litres of milk??" screams the wife. "They had eggs.")

    To be fair, a lot of the students I went to college with were from Finland and were warm and nice people but they admit that most Finnish people are “reserved” in public or to strangers on the street. Reserved is a pretty mild way of putting it though, because it is well beyond the scale of what that word means in describing other cultures. How about very reserved?

    So after walking in from the bitter cold, extremely windy and wet outside (this was my first jacket weather in 3 years, absolutely horrible weather) into a nice warm church to at least warm up for a few moments, I walked right into a wedding ceremony. If those people look at you cross just for looking at them in the street, imagine what I thought they would do to me for crashing a wedding party.

    Instead it was the polar opposite. Everyone was all smiles and glowing, as one would think most people would be at a wedding. But they also all smiled at me when they looked at me and did not make me feel out of place there in the least. It was one of the most welcoming warmest feelings I had and not just because of how horrible it would be in every way opposite once I knew I had to go back outdoors. I tried to look around the church a bit but like everyone else, eventually focused on the ceremony. The bride was radiant, the bridegroom was handsome, the wedding ceremony seemed wonderful though the customs seemed a little strange. Walking in circles, holding things over people’s heads, things like that. I was only there a few minutes but left feeling a lot warmer about Finland, and after that the cold and the public shunnings did not seem as harsh.

    I was in Lithuania for 3 months so I got to see a lot more churches there instead of by a just-passing-through kind of tour. The Cathedral in Vilnius was the most memorable, and the biggest, but there were many other nice ones there too. Many churches which were very scenic were spread all around the city. People will take note of the unusually muscular Jesus there. I made jokes in my head, Arnold Swartzenjesus, and things like that. Not to be mean, but these were by far the most unusual (read body-builder type) representations of Jesus I have ever seen.  No scrawny Jesus for Lithuanians.

    I was in Estonia the longest, more than a year and a half. I saw a lot of churches there. I bought a candle at Alexander Nevsky Cathedral and lit one on my father’s birthday for him on the first one after he died. I had to wonder what he would have thought of the gesture. He went from being very religious, reading the Bible for hours every night, to being very skeptical to say the least, later beyond that. I am sure he still believed in God, in a way, but might had found lighting a candle for him a stupid thing to do. No matter, I wasn’t really sure myself when you are supposed to do it or what it is supposed to mean. I just saw people doing it, remembered what day it was, so I thought to do the same. More of a timing thing than a plan or intent.

    But like in Finland I did go to a church ceremony in Estonia which did mean a lot to me, and that was more planned than just happening to crash a wedding party. The main church in old-town Tartu, Tartu Jaani (St. John’s) Church, which was being worked on almost the whole time I was there was being opened again for the first time since the Communists closed it down a long time ago, or bombed in the war and not rebuilt or something. It was a very nice ceremony, singing, carrying things, but generally an amazing thing to see, such a feeling of peace, and accomplishment that the symbol of Christianity in the center of the historical old-town was once again open after being closed down for so long. It was like seeing a wound healing slowly in real time.

    Sweden had many churches which I saw, some small ones out in the country, and big cathedrals in Stockholm. One in Stockholm had what I called “Buddy Jesus” on the ceiling which was quite an effective display for getting people interested. It had a center dome, like many cathedrals I saw, which of course has a painting that bends away from you. This had someone who used perspective to make it look like Jesus was leaning forward towards you from the clouds behind him reaching down his hand to you like in a 3D movie. It was like he was saying, come on up here with me. Its cool up here. Even if you are an atheist, you would have to be impressed by the thought and skill that went into that design. And no 3D glasses required.

    And obviously, one church stands out to me more than the others because they helped me so much when I so much needed help. Americans are strange in some respects. We believe in charity, (or at least used to, the greed and smear-the-poor culture has meta-sized), but do not like to take it ourselves. There are always others who need it more, we tend to think.

    When I was growing up, one day a church left a turkey on our doorstep around Christmas with some canned goods. My parents wanted to send them back. As a child I remembered, as being poor and being teased in school about it, I saw the logic in sending it back, the pride. But on the other hand, it was so much food, and its not like that was going to just happen again if it went back. We weren’t always that poor as that Christmas, but that was one time our pride had to take a back seat to reality. We needed help.

    While going to school in Sweden, I could not work but hoped to do some work for the University on programming to offset some of the expenses. One day while waiting to talk with a department head, they offered me a banana. For me that was as big a deal as a whole Christmas turkey! I would stare at pastries in the supermarket before buying what I went in there for, raw bread baguettes, which were pretty good, but not much to live on. A banana to me at that time was as unthinkable as a Ferrari.
   
    When I met with a church about needing help with the asylum thing, they were obviously skeptical to say the least. Americans are not your average people needing help like that and something like that was highly unusual. It did not help that I could not say much about why. I said that I am trying to get something on record, some thing which cannot be erased and if I did so, I thought something good might come of it. I could guarantee nothing but that I was a committed to trying to do something, and I needed help.

    They eventually had a vote, and decided to help me with tickets, for which I am grateful and hope to repay in a direct way rather than indirect way someday. But what also to me was like a gift from God, they gave me food right before Christmas. I, like most Americans, hated the idea of taking charity, but it was food, it was needed badly. And if you want others to give help, sometimes you need to help them help others by accepting the help when offered. Christmas Lasagna! Not very traditional but one of my first real meals in months.
   
    People are imperfect, churches are imperfect. Their monuments, cathedrals, golden shrines, icons, etc. are designed to dazzle people, impress them, and one could even write them off as just other corporations. But whether they use the good in people, or they bring out good in people, it is not always easy to tell. But they symbolize what is good about people and they are, when they don’t get too involved in politics or their own survival as paramount, they are a sometimes forgotten reminder of each person’s bond to each other. However far the hierarchies stray from that, there is still usually always somewhere behind them, the local church people who are the backbone, the rock, the Christ waiting to do good.

posted by Jared DuBois | 2:26 AM