Believe it or not, for those who knew me in my younger days.I was a former amateur sleuth! (crossing eyes). Now, Going back four decades ago when Mr. Z was haunting the SF Bay Area around with his taunts of ‘the joys of killing’ bragging to the Chronicle with making his murders looking like a few fake accidents, etc, a string of unsolved murders had taken place in rural Sonoma County along the Franz Valley Road and Bennett Valley areas north of Santa Rosa. The bodies of 6 young females between the ages of 12 to 22 had been found nude and had signature marks of strangulation and a few cases – styrichnine poisoning – in ditches, ravines just off the isolated roadways in than years time between December 1972 to December 1973, where the last victim Theresa Diane Walsh was found naked and hogtied in a creek with a lump of her flesh intact with a fallen tree log in the water. It was a dark time for Santa Rosa residents, unaware of a maniacal specter on the loose in their community, hunting for more victims. The murders became infamous and known as The Santa Rosa Hitchhiker Murders. Twice I visited Franz Valley Road, a not well road known to travel on, in search for clues and my own personal quest and partial research to find a solution in solving one of Northern California’s so called Ted Bundy crimes. “Ted” was looked into as a culprit into the SHRM, once, the day after his execution at Florida State Penitentiary and just four years ago. Primed Suspect of the Zodiac Killings, Arthur Leigh Allen was looked into as a culprit, but was removed as a suspect in both the Z killings and the SRHM while being incarcerated at Atascadero State Hospital. For those not familiar with the case, visit Deborah Silva’s website click on here for more info.
The spring of 1986 that I first began to experience a series of waking up, unable to move.
Being off for school for one full week because I was on spring/Easter break just like every student. It was on the morning of Palm Sunday before enjoying a week of playing video games at Joe’s Pizza at the Liberty Links Shopping Plaza and waiting for my old man this very morning to take me out fishing to Orwoods located in the California Delta instead of attending Sunday services, just for once.
That morning, prior to awakening, I was in deep sleep. I couldn’t remember the exact details in the dream ,except the scene took place in a dark tunnel with a girl in it and along with her reptiles and insects swarmed within.
Onset of awakening this feeling of being numb as though my blood circulation was cut off. I felt weak and very groggy. At the right peripheral view of my right eye, a blurred figure was there standing at the foot of my bed. My vision was blurred; I thought I had seen a robed figure lurking at me from a short distance. My eyes was still fluttering in a part REM sleep-awake stage. Suddenly my sight became visible able to see clearly.
And here I was pinned down on the bed unable to move. I tried to move, and could not; semi-awake, nearly choking to death as though a unseen powerful force was there strangling me nearly to death, as I made a desperate attempt to yell out for help to anyone in the house to rescue me from the phantom. The more I struggled to fight this thing off me, the heavier the weight. I gasped for air.
Soon the paralysis stopped after a short while; the grasp of a heavy choke hold from the phantom diminished after. I was able to breathe at ease. The incident was virtually haunting as if I was attacked by a supernatural entity. Such mixed emotions, fear and anxiety crept inside of me. Too, I was mad a hell in searching for an elusive stranger that may off been lurking around my bed; dashing out, I searched for The Phantom who could of been hiding under my bed; then, I searched the nearby closet: nothing or nobody was anywhere to be found.
For the first time in my life, I felt soo lonely with knowledge I was under attack, there was nobody there to come to my rescue. In my early years as teen I was in my way a tough kid, growing up being picked on by school bullies; often, either way I or they asked for a fight. Maybe this particular Palm Sunday morning it was a entity who challenged me to a fight. Could it be God who I thought at that morning was hating me, playing a twisted sick prank on me. Whatever this unseen force derived from, this incident gave away a thought I was being subjected to mental illness the days following, barely living on the edge.
This was the first time I’ve ever experienced such dread, so different from a ordinary nightmare that I had ever had in the past. It seemed so real that the aspects speak for itself:
Unable to move/paralyzed and unable to speak
The feeling of presence/and pressure on the chest and various tactile feelings on parts of the body
The audio and visual hallucinations.
In the months and years following, a dark shadow pushing its weight on me. The sinking into the bed mattress and being suffocated with my pillow. These are signs of HHE(Hypnagogic/Hypnopompic Hallucination Experiences) with with ISP(Isolated Sleep Paralysis) and or ASP(Awake Sleep Paralysis.
Here is a riddle why Catholics abstain consuming meat on Fridays during Lent(including Ash Wednesday): Catholic Christians are reminded not to eat the flesh of meat of any specie(except fish) because Christ died on a Friday; He gave up his “flesh” , in an effort to receive the Sacrament of Holy Communion, thereof Catholics refrain from consuming the flesh of Christ. ?! What are we, cannibals?!
Anyway, there is nothing in Scriptures that says any Christian, and those who are Catholics, are destined to fast on Lent. This is not a requirement of a spiritual issue, and this is not a required “inherited spiritual value” =does not give a instant relationship to Christ.
Take this in mind from every Friday herein, a quote from Christ himself: “What goes into somebody’s mouth does not defile them.” – Mt 15:11
Enjoy the rest of your weekend people. Hope this answers on the ‘why can’t Catholics consume the flesh of animals(with the exception of fish?)
“The devotion of the greatest is to encounter risk and danger, and play dice with death.” – Friedrich Nietzsche
Mirror Of A Sacred Totem
“The Lizard brings into your awareness your subconscious hopes and fears that through the light of day they can be acknowledged”
-Animal totem meaning on the lizard
Ancient tribal customs involved the choosing of a Dionysian “prince” from the male tribal members often named in honor of a particular totem(animal whose traits are held in high regards, i.e.-lizards ability to shed skin acquiring a new persona as it was) and this chosen in this case, the “Lizard King” was allowed pleasures he fancied for a period of time.
Celebration Of The Lizard King
Observing and making sense to The Doors official website and articles and books a journey I made into the world of James Douglas Morrison a decade ago, fans studied writings of Jim Morrison had said, “Celebration Of The Lizard” to be a commemoration so to speak of a time when our souls were more ancient with the affairs of spirits and souls than a society plagued with plethora of wealth some 8,000 years ago.
A dionysian king, a medicine man – shamanism reborn from the past forged a connection between the tribe, the society, and dionysus on stage. This was performed on going a spiritual journey could heal the tribe. His invocation of this phrase, “I AM THE LIZARD KING” taken allegorically in terms of Morrison’s ultimate sacrifice of the American funeral pyre.
Here is an enigmatic musician, poet, philosopher, who contributed to society and asked nothing more in return; sacrificial of his spirit and soul, the late hero of dionysus on the sacred rock performances with ritualism, archetypal energy of rock n’ roll. Many don’t cling on to a clue it was bringing back the ancient ritual to our modern world.
James Douglas Morrison used LSD, peyote, psilosybin and other psychedelics with the self purposes to expand his mind. He consumed alcohol with excess; Jim viewed alcohol as more an adventure than a weakness. His favorite drink was Bushmills Irish Whiskey. He knew he was an excessive drunk and accepted this as though he had no other choice in the matter. To me he was destined to drink.
“I am not a musician. I’m a poet. And I’m Irish. The drug of Irish Poetry is alcohol.” He said more than once. Parallel with being a somewhat life with more than an iota of depression, Morrison saw himself as a drinking man in the image of Ernest Hemingway or F. Scott Fitzgerald. Yet he tried nearly every drug out there including heroin smack which is most definite a downward spiral for his end.
Jim once said about alcohol that made him feel dirty, “It’s so sociable and accessible, conventional. Besides, booze beats dope for me any day. Soul beats money and booze beats dope.”
I think he became fully disillusioned of everything he witnessed in L’America as a cesspool before he departed to Paris; he lived life to the fullest way too fast and became weary and tired he just wanted to escape from it all no matter the dangerous risks involved.
Morrison’s sacrifice, the mystic, intense dreamer insatiable thirst for life killed him and not really any lust for death.
Know when he means when Jim says, “I AM THE LIZARD KING. I CAN DO ANYTHING.”
The public eye, the perception of Jim is just that of a menacing rebellious drugged out, alcoholic. Only if they would care to listen to the interviews; read his poetry. For the sake of his intelligence is concerned, Jim Morrison’s IQ was around 149. He did foresee electronic machines inventions for audio cassettes would take over in a 1969 PBS Interview.
Pop Music should not be labeled for The Doors. They are a unique band that would be tested throughout time. Feel the opening of your human senses when Ray Manzereck’s dominance of the keyboard effects mirrors a uniquely carnivalesque blend with jazzy atmospheric music. The Doors tribute as seen here on this 2000 VH1 Performance. Take a ride into the rainy storm with Jim any day.
The Doors Tribute: Stoned Immaculate by The Days Of The New. 2000.
“Expose yourself to your deepest fear; after that, fear has no power, and the fear of freedom shrinks and vanishes. You are free.”
“Death makes angels of us alland gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as ravens claws.”
