Project Pitchfork

I'm not a religious person. I've traversed the biblical courtyard starting way back in childhood and into young adulthood, settling on spiritualism instead of organised religion. I've read the bible though, and still have scraps of childhood prayers floating in my subconscious. I do feel a divine tranquility walking into some churches (not all). Some of my old-soul friends would say my nature is witch-like, others just serious. Having chosen the Gothic subculture as opposed to any other during my teenage years says a lot about my leanings though. There's beauty in darkness. 

There's equal beauty in light. 

Barney Ross : That's how we deal with death. We can't change what it is, so we keep it light until it's time to get dark. And then we get pitch black.

The Expendables 2 (2012) - Sylvester Stallone: Barney Ross

At this time I face a situation where the life of my father hangs in the balance. Ironic that this should happen when I'd finally opened the archive of an interview I did with him years ago for the purpose of my second book (which was just a bit of dust in the wind at the time). Also ironic that the intervention that could either save his life or end it would be carried out on the birthday of my eldest daughter. I choose to summon luck rather than invite an omen. I won't be able to see him in time though. I missed my estimate by a couple of hours. There is still so much to perfect in a mind that has been torn between science and mystique since early childhood. I couldn't see far enough to make a more accurate prediction. 

"How pathetic!" I think to myself sometimes. How mediocre that it takes so long to reach a higher level of consciousness without being in a cult, or a community or guided by some guru or group...or a famous book. It's lonely to reject all the flags that may envelope one in a sense of safety and so alluring to give in to pressure to conform...and to not conform. 

Today, we take up our pitchforks to every idea that doesn't conform to our sense of justice. We betray our family, friends and allies in the name of all-encompassing ideologies (fake idols?) and see nothing wrong with killing in the name of freedom or justice. 

Regardless of the reason or the context, washing the blood off one's hands is still necessary at the end of a good hunt. Least we forget...

Justifying is easy...logic is as malleable as the mind that conjures it.

Have we entered an age of Newspeak (as Orwell called it) simply because we cannot control our own emotions in the face of diversity? More policing, less self-control. It takes a sharp, non-malicious wit to remind an individual that they may not read between the lines of what has been written without absolute certainty of the intended meaning conveyed. 

The body is a self-regulated system...the mind less so. On the other hand, the two are one and only together they can evolve.  

Pick a side? Take up arms? Chant?

Why?

I rarely wonder at the universal empathy that is felt in the face of disaster. I do often wonder at the vitriol towards it. 

No sympathy allowed...only actions? Right? Is any one person or group master over which may be the right ones?

I think I've lost track of the rules of engagement these days. 

Yes but No...Maybe...Do but Don't...Stay silent but Shout...Love but NOT TOO MUCH, because everyone leaves or dies...Don't strike...but Fight!