What a man puts in his mouth….

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?)

That is what comes out from mind and into a blog.

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In Memoriam of James Douglas Morrison.

jim-morrison

“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 all and gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as ravens claws.”

-James Douglas Morrison
American Poet 1943-1971.

Sleep Paralysis poem.

The fifth year of the second millenium A.D.
Sleep Paralysis
Oh the old hag striketh me in the night
She comes to bring me visions of  fright
Upon my bed she clutches my throat with her almighty hands
I lay upon my bed unable to move
I desperately attempt to utter a sound
The only thing that I hear and feel is the caving in of the old hags pound
Upon my chest the old hag laughs
I manage to escape but the more the struggle
The heavier the weight I gasp for air
Oh cometh morning sky when will you cometh
The raven flies over this night
Strikeths its victim with the terror of its might
Oh cometh sunrise when will you appear
Help me to escape this state of  terror
The heavy breathing of a beast stalks upon with its eyes that stare
From the old hag appears the Mare
Now with the wiggling of my fingers to fight off this monster
Hell awaits for me near
The tormented laugh dancing around my surroundings
I still cannot  break off the paralyzing boundings
Old Hag
The Mare
Dancing around in prolonging glee
Oh morning sky set me free
Old Hag
The Mare
Dancing around me in endless glee
They bound me tighter so that I cannot break free
Oppressed Oppressed
The alienated body of demons enters down upon where I sleep
Oppressed Oppressed
The incubus and succubus craving my body giving me shrivers of creep
Dark Weeping Willow tree appear before my eyes
Upon its limbs perches the raven
Staring at me with it’s elusive eyes
Set me free
My subconscious streams
Set me free
The heaviness of my legs are weak to break free
Sleep Paralysis is my fate
The terror of sleep paralysis is my fate
Sleep Paralysis is my fate
Cometh morning sky that you will save me from this fate
Before it is too late

What could of been the best moment!

This very early morning after going to sleep past 1:00 A.M. The dream was inside Pac Bell Park in San Francisco(now called AT&T Park). It was the 6th game of the 2002 World Series. I was Kenny Lofton batting for the S.F. Giants. I was the quickest base runner on the 2002 S.F. Giants team and it was up to me now to clear the bases. The bottom of the ninth. Two outs with nobody on base. We were hosting the American League MLB Champs from So Cal-Anahiem Angels. We the San Francisco Giants were the National League MLB Champs from up here in No Cal. We were down by a run to tie this game. The score was Anaheim Angels 6-San Francisco 5. A blast out in the bleachers would definitely give a tied game. Rich Aurilia was due up behind the batting order right behind me. If our short stop would only blast a homer …we were to become the 2002 MLB World Series Champions. We’ve come a long way through out the entire season to get this far. Nothing was going to stop us now. Anaheim Angels rookie relief pitcher was pitching well. He had struck out the first two batters before me with fast sinkers. That stunned us. It was my turn now to overcome his strike zones. The first pitch nearly hit me. The second was a ball, the third another brush from the pitcher from the Anaheim Angels.The fourth was a strike. The fifth, I pulled the ball towards right field for a home run. The ball didn’t quite carry far enough. The right fielder dove for the ball as it almost was caught in his glove. He missed it and dived several feet on the asphalt green. The ball completely went passed by him. I was now on my way to second,when the assisted center fielder now with the ball gunned it with his almighty throwing arm. I’m getting close to third base. Closer. Closer. I slid into third, tagging the bag when nearly simultaneously the cut of man in the infield(possibility either the shortstop or second baseman) threw it to third. This third baseman quickly tagged me just about a fraction of a second when I tagged third. The umpire at third yelled out against my favor, ‘You’re out!’ A massive out pours of ‘boos! And curses at the umpire’ were echoed louder than ever,for almost an eternity. ‘What?! I’m not out’, I stubbornly refused the unrighteous call.
The dugout from our team went out to third, lead by Dusty Baker to argue with the ump. Both the skipper and the ump went face to face with words. Dusty kicked dirt on the umpires cleats. There was no use in ejecting out him. The game was officially over. Anaheim had defeated us San Francisco Giants by one run. It was the most outraged scene ever. It was literally disgusting. I Kenny Lofton was going to smack the ump in the face with a back hand. A suspension for the next game was going to be officiated. I tried to refrain myself but was pouting like a spoiled child,as I cursed and threw my helmet and jumping up and down. We had to wait another day for game 7 to come. World Series title-here we come to get what belongs to us. Not the Angels. But us-The San Francisco Giants.

End of dream.

My first Out-of-Body experience, 1993.

I wasn’t  that anxious that at up to my age of 22, no longer was going to have a few of my original chompers pulled out because my dentist told me that I had some overcrowded teeth,and that it would be difficult of me biting,down as age progressed. She was going to refer me to a specialist in dealing with this type of procedure. Oh great.
Within a week,after consulting a maxillofacial surgeon who explained to me what the procedures and all that talk, a set up appointment was arranged. Another week and a half passed . The day was at hand. Arriving at the office about no more than a few minutes had passed when the door at the front lobby opened. It was the assistant who called me in towards the hallway and I entered this one room. It was the space that the surgery was going to take place in. So within 10 minutes, a group of another pair of assistants and the surgeon came in. One of them explained to me that anesthesia was going to be administered during this process. First,my blood pressure was checked. This anesthesiologist placed this small apparatus over my nose that fitted this and my mouth. It was simply anesthesia. I was told to count sheep backwards,from 10 – 1,something like that. Less than 5 seconds, I was out like a baby.
This feeling of being floated above where my body was, I slowly began to ascend. I didn’t try to refrain myself,or panic ,or anything of that nature. It perceived to me as simply a lallaby dream. My eyes shut. A feeling of ecstasy. My mind was drifting towards the office ceiling above. I was tossed around like a entering a dimensional tunnel, when I first saw my body down below. It was all to real, that maybe it was the anesthesia giving away the sensory deprivation. The surgeon and her assistants could I see downwards . Along with physical self on the dental chair. My mouth was probed and some blood matter was oozing from my mouth. Diverting away the scene, I was now soaring through the rest of the room,and exiting. In the hallway my consciousness was on the hallway ceiling. So much as in a lucid dream, but I wasn’t. I have heard about Out-of-body experiences  before this situation where people described as being disconnected from their own physical bodies and traveling though a tunnel, with a ray of light at the end of it. Some had described as entering a Near Death Experience when they were clinically dead  as declared by the doctors. But, only to re-enter their bodies some time after. Hereupon, under the knife, I was still much alive.
The strange part about this first experience with OBE,is that I can hear the machine that they had used sucking up my blood and all that stuff. To this point, I was now in another office room, next door, unoccupied.
Finally I was being pulled back into my body. My name was called…three times, by either the surgeon, or the assistants. The office ceiling was that came into view. A small noise wheezed out from my numb mouth. My name was called out again ,then one began to shake my arm. It jolted me out of my wits. A final call was shouted. Two faces,with sanitary breathing masks used in hospitals looked at me. One of them, with a small maglite. held its flashing tip at my eyes to see if I was fully awake. I was told afterwards that I appeared to be in a trance…gazing at the ceiling above with a faint shallow sound escaping my mouth. Never,had I told them, I had a OBE. This was my first.

Psychic Warrior.

“Time travel had its limitations, and the science fiction writers were all wrong. It wasn’t like the movie ‘Back To The Future’; you couldn’t change the past to affect future time. The past was locked and the future was an untethered fire house, rocking and swaying, constantly changing, infinite variables affecting it as time crept forward”

— excerpts from the book ‘Psychic Warrior’
David Morehouse on Remote Viewing.

At the shipyards—–cargo freights are heavily guarded on the docks of Port Haifa. A military officer with a stern look, making a brief conversation with me. I am smoking a cigarette, and I tell him there is no sign of disturbance on my watch. The officer nods and tells me he wants a “smoke.” I salute my watch commander before he departs. Soon after I am confronted by other military commandos at the port. Nearby on a crate nearby, I see a marking on it in Hebrew.

Astral Remote Viewing in the few short weeks after September 11,2001. I was in the astral remote viewing mode in the “eyes” of one Israeli Defense commando, looking at a target or location only within the mind.  With so much astral energies, RV dealt with human fate around the globe. The world was on edge nearly on dire strait after it welcomed in the new millennium as much distress, fear and anxiety allowed in during and right after the recent attacks in the East Coast.