Drunk and Blind

Another kick was the divine remembrance that came in this guise of healing. Peel back the layers and you will recall who you were before the acid rain came. The seeking turned to Heavenly Mother, Mary Magdalene (Isis), Inanna, the Divine Feminine buzzword that was no such buzzword in my Mormon religion. She is mentioned once in one hymn that missionaries would cringe at if that hymn was sung when they had an investigator at church for fear of the question "who is this Heavenly Mother you do not speak of?" Yes, who is this archetype? Archetypes are substantial, so I followed the white rabbit down the hole leading me to the creatures of the dark I had met in my travels and trauma. Inanna herself went to hell and died and came back. Helen of Troy, the lovely lady left her husband and kids, to make the travel into the dark. INTO THE DARK, not away from. It is by going into the dark and unknown that we gain access to the light. Not the other way around. That kids movie Soul has the main ghost who passess and opts to not go toward the light, but rather the dark to find the answers were inside him all along.

Gimme those mysteries. This led to "The Once and Future Goddess" by Elenor Gadden. Eleanor McGuiness was my father's mom. I called her NaNa and that woman I did not know as a woman, just as the older version NaNa, but stories swirled around her life choices that my brain did not understand until I was an adult. She would take me to the Psychic Eye book shop on Charleston in downtown Las Vegas, giving me items to place under my mattress, amber rocks, astrology charts, etc. All fun for a book loving introvert child who was nosy beyond measure of what adults had, what they were doing, what they were finding validity it. From my observation Elenor was a woman who lived in a ramshackle hoarder house by a literal metal junkyard near Nellis Air Force base. Her home reeked of the hundreds of herb bottles, concoctions, and cilantro. Rooms were not rooms but piles. NaNa would sleep on a pile of junk; a makeshift mattress of blankets, clothes, and curtains. The curtains were golden because NaNa would sew cash money into her curtains, which in her snoring slumber, the grandkids would seek. She wore Russian looking fur hats and worshipped Satan openly. Drawing a large pentagram in my dad's hospital room floor in 1990 when he was hit in the head late one night walking into his townhome, it was not a ritual practice she hid. My mom has confirmed that she watched NaNa perform miracles in the name of the beast. There's that kick.

I have gone to the place of saying that the Mormon church seems very culty, to it is a cult. I took to serious study of occultism upon hearing some of the stories my mom had never told me about Eleanor. Witchcraft, Paganism, Occultist symbols and rituals. Yo, the Satanist, Wiccan, Free Mason practices are what Mormons are practicing in their temples. They are not drawing on the power of Christ in those prayer circles, but they think they are. The signs and tokens of the temple ring of the Illuminati and the mark of the beast. The sign of the nail across the veil is that sign so many celebrities use like "Ok" over one eye. So many things it is god damn astounding I was blind for so long. That is a brutal kick. 

More on blindness next time. That veil seems cruel, eh? 1980 Wonder Woman was not vibing with the dispossession of life. My existential crisis started young. If the fox Todd could just be dropped off in the forest by the Widow Tweed all willy nilly, and there are shadow people I see at night the cry began, "Why, what's the point of it all if we are just dropped in a forest alone?"

The answer to Why was fed to me, This was the point: Celestial Marriage ordained by God thru the priesthood dudes we call leaders to have some posterity forever. That was the answer I bought. Drunk on ego and blind by design I put my shoulder to the wheel.