James M. Emmerling's Open Salon Blog

The Only Way to Heaven

Fri, 1 Jun 2012 12:06:25 -0400

Religion is the vision of something

which stands beyond, behind and within

the passing flux of immediate things;

something which is real, and yet waiting to be realized;

something which is a remote possibility,

and yet the greatest of present facts;

something that gives

meaning

to all that passes, and yet eludes apprehension"

alfred north whitehead, the consummate englishman,

who came to America to teach between 'the wars'.

(that is NOT whitehead. Tis Man)

..........................

I am an American.

America has always, and shall always be, a God-obsessed nation. I have no idea why that should be. The oligarchy of Founders were agreeably agnostic, or at the worst, Deist. Yet there was the Mob to deal with. Jefferson was afeared of them. So were the rest.

They wrote the Constitution, a delightfully obscure document open to …process. Amendment.

…………………………………………

I grew up in a “spiritual vacuum”, myself. My parents quit the Congregational church 5 years before my birth in 1967.

I asked Mom, ‘why?” . She said, “We will tell you when you are an adult,” a familiar escape for her. I never achieved adult status, obviously, for I was never privy to these secrets. I suspect town politics. My daddy was a bigwig. He was involved deeply in the Church. The guy wanted to be either a minister or a teacher, chose the latter. Got on the Board of Education. Back then, they had to listen to religious leaders, and this is one goddamn religious town. A church on every corner.

27 of them made a ‘MAAC’, a Manchester Area of associated Churches”. They do good work. Homeless shelter, charity, whatnot. Good works, as they say in the religious vernacular.

…………………………………………………………

Anyway, I never ever went to church. No baptism, confirmation, instruction. So I had to make it all up from within, and I did. If their intent was , as they said, to allow me to “make up my own mind”, I have done so. And continue to. For mind is neuroplastic, always open. Never stops making new connections…

……………………………………..

My religious journey is a deeply personal one, I gotta warn you. Any good book you give me, if it is you who gives it to me, and I care about you, becomes a bible.

………………………………….

But no one gives me good books anymore. I gotta find them.

“Seek and thee shall find”!

……………………………………………..

Problem with most people is:

“everybody expects u/to be just like them/they say, sing while u slave/& I just get bored”

………………………………….

So I came here to os to see what is what. I met many glorious souls. Some are gone now, and I miss them. But then an Eljekar or a Keiko Alvarez or a Jan Sand makes contact, and I am happy enough. To sit here and debate and screw with their heads and complement their work, cuz I think maybe it might be “important”.

Gotta say i dig that Keiko.

(not her.)

..................

Look,

Alas, the reason I think it is “important”, the work of my friends, is that it captures my interest. What better definition of Narcissism.

Keiko helps me with that. My narcissism.

here she really is:

(her tummy was NOT pulled in, oddly enough)

………………………………

But to get to the Holy Void, my god, one must be humbled. And to be humbled means to be too grand in one’s head, one’s ego, til it explodes.

Boom.

(This is NOT for your sensual enjoyment, this picture.

This is for yr spritual journey.

I am being ridiculous as i must be of course.

It is a photo of the holiest of holies, next to

1.ecstasy

2.god consciousness

3. mystical rapture)

................

but.... but...is this the end, the reason for us?

i dunno.

...................

"one flesh".....st john.

AMERICAN HICK/ gets his news from YAHOO, ALAS

Thu, 31 May 2012 14:05:28 -0400

hick; one located in a rural or culturally unsophisticated area

yahoo: one of a race of brutes, having the form and all the vices of humans, who are subject to the Houyhnhnms.

..................

Houyhnhnms. noun

(in Swift's Gulliver's Travels ) one of a race of horses endowed with reason, who rule the Yahoos, a race of degraded, brutish creatures having human form.

..................

yahoo:

( lowercase ) an uncultivated or boorish person; lout; philistine; yokel.

One is where one thinks.

- Rabbi Yehuda Ashlag, "One Is Where One Thinks", in Kabbalah for the Student,

...............................................

Yahoo is initially where I go every morning for news I need to know. It used to be the newspapers, back when I was a suburban genius kid.

I cannot afford the luxury of papers anymore, so I scan them online and of course read their front pages as I amble around town. In the newspaper boxes.

So here it is, my knowledge of the outside world, the so called “Real World” I went to college to find a niche in, but never did due to my mental illness.

……………………………

Yahoo tells me there is a “new Aids”.

Chagas, it is called: tropical disease spread by insects.

“"There are a number of striking similarities between people living with Chagas disease

and people living with HIV/AIDS

particularly for those with HIV/AIDS who contracted the disease

in the first two decades of the HIV/AIDS epidemic."

Called “ American trypanosomiasis, “ it kills about 20,000 people per year. 8 million infected in the Americas, but it is not sexually transmitted. Insects are to blame.

………………………..

Middle East is where the action usually is, and I found that the , uh, no, just Madonna was kicking off a tour in Tel aviv…”Kicking off her latest tour in Israel was a natural choice for the Catholic-born singer, who over the past decade has become deeply involved in the Jewish mystical tradition of Kabbalah..”

................................

"Misdirected life force is the activity in disease process. Disease has no energy save what it borrows from the life of the organism. It is by adjusting the life force that healing must be brought about, and it is the sun as transformer and distributor of primal spiritual energy that must be utilized in this process, for life and the sun are so intimately connected.

................

I heard of that. Jewish mystical stuff, way way complicated, unlike my own preferred mysticism. I despise rules. Like Jesus did. I hate to be told how what & why to think. I get petty and juvenile in my disgraceful disrespect for such systems. I never show it on OS, though. I wanna be liked by everybody, no matter their stupid paradigm. I got about fifty thousand paradigms in my head, and none of them are worthy of my loyalty for except maybe two or three minutes, like if I am talking to a Kabbalist. I play innocent.

“What, I ask you, is your Kabbalah all about? Why do I want it in my life?”

I ask.

I listen and absorb the meticulous instructions to ecstasy.

Tis an 'in one ear out the other' event usually.......

………………………………….

I have read too much American philosophy, is the problem. William James and Charles Peirce with their pragmatism. What is true? What works.

Dumb hick American, me.

………………………………….

I love the Germans, though. Like Hegel . To read him is the metaphysical equivalent of a 12 mile run.

…………………………………………

"We spoke to her for a few minutes and we asked if she would say anything about peace," Peace Now's Yariv Oppenheimer told AFP, saying it was the forum's first-ever contact with the petite singer, who has largely steered clear of getting involved with issues linked to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

"She told us: I will say much more than a word about it."

Since she arrived in Israel late on Friday on an El Al flight from New York, Madonna has reportedly spent much of time rehearsing, praying or attending Kabbalah events….

……………………………..

Ha , I remember that sex book of hers. Now there was a bit of peace for a tormented adolescent like me, back when…

………………………………….

Kurt Cobain: "In a way I respect Madonna for the things she introduced because she introduced some subversive things

and it has nothing to do with sex

as far as I'm concern, I'm talking about the introduction

to the vogue dance which originated in the gay clubs in 80',

and she was always supportive of stuff like that which I think is really cool."

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

(there was gay news today too. a triumph? i saw gals kissing, which i love)

.........................

This Eljekar fellow got me thinking about religion. I have always had a steady faith to the here & now, and in my theological thinking usually try to build a system of the Now.

Mystical loser, me. Don’t worry, I will get my words someday. With y’all’s help.

…………………………………..

Meanwhile!

I surf yahoo to gather the Zeitgeist.

They seem to have reached a verdict in mr. edward’s case. If he is convicted, he gotta cough up 1.5 million.

Also: 30 yrs in prison.

………………………

I got sucked in by his boyish charm for a bit, I gotta admit. Shoulda known.

…………………

Fuck, it is everywhere on the news channels. I wanted to end with a bit of real news. Like about Syria. Isnt that important? How do you know what is ‘important’ anymore? I mean, some dishy gal on cnn tells you to pay attention to her story, you gotta listen.

Yahoo says: in ‘science’ which at least is ‘objective’:

1. The world's air has reached what scientists call a troubling new milestone for carbon dioxide, the main global warming pollutant.

2. The distinctive "old person smell" you may have picked up on when visiting your grandparents most likely wasn't your imagination, a new study indicates.

"The results of this study support the cross-culturally popular concept of an 'old person odor,'" writes the international team

The notion that the elderly have a distinct smell exists in multiple cultures, and usually the odor is said to be unpleasant. But this probably has more to do with negative perceptions of old age, rather than with the odor itself,

……………………..

Finally some sense in this weird wild world! Thanks , Yahoo.

.....................................

FROM OUR 'MEDAL OF HONOR ' WINNER, MR DYLAN:

"JOURNEY THRU DARK HEAT":

"there's a baby in the arms

of a woman in a rage

and a long time golden haired stripper on stage

AS SHE WINDS BACK THE CLOCK

AND TURNS BACK THE PAGE

OF a book that nobody can write..

the truth was obscure

too profound and too pure

to live it, you had to explode. "

Questions of Heaven / After the Ham

Wed, 30 May 2012 17:05:33 -0400

for my friend Eljekar:

BLAKE

plus for him:

PROVERBS OF HELL

In seed-time learn, in harvest teach,
in winter enjoy.

Drive your cart and your plough
over the bones of the dead.

The road of excess leads to the
palace of wisdom.

Prudence is a rich ugly old maid
courted by Incapacity.

He who desires, but acts not, breeds
pestilence.

blake, MARRIAGE OF HEAVEN & HELL

..................................

After the ham, Rena and I had to make our departure, hopefully to tasteful debauchery back at her apartment. She is the kind of a woman a man must be ‘inside’ in order for her to be utterly honest, I have told her. She probably doesn’t know what I mean, but I do..she certainly plays along, that’s for sure, and I hope to someday explain this odd statement to her. If she doesn’t understand. Which she might, already, how does a fellow know these days?

The extrication from Emmerling family dynamics was not easy. Joseph our dog seemed to want to come with us, judging from his alarming attachment to Rena. To her legs ,fingers and her face. He seemed to need to lick them forever. Mom and Dad were aghast, of course, but I knew my boy. And so did Rena: willing recipient of doggie tongue bath.

I have similar loyalties to Rena’s flesh, and wanted the opportunity to show them to her, heroically.

Not to be, not for awhile anyway.

…………………………….

Dad became religious over his ham and began a spiraling uproar.

He’d chewed down the last piece his tummy could find space for, and expansively said, “Mizz Oblong, do you have a denomination?”

Mom was sucking Chablis, so she had a comeback: “George, my father said never discuss religion or politics at the dinner table.”

George was full of dementia fuelled by Chablis, too, so he was venturesome in countering : “ach, that father and mother of yours. Rich folks on the hill. Blech. My father was a poor German immigrant, and he and my mother adored your parents. I didn’t care for em, though, “ he delivered in deadpan.

“They were so good to you and your family! How dare you say that?”

Mom.

"Ah, they were alright. I liked your father. That mother of yours, though!"

"What about her?"

"Ah, my father never cared for her."

……………………..

Oh typical Emmerling bullshit. Rena as a psychologist could handle it, but it wore on my nerves, especially since I knew that after chewing the least amount of ham I could, I would get lucky. Rena was flushed with sexual fervor. I could spot this from her red face and chest, and the way she worked her nude foot up my thigh. Joseph kept licking her foot, too. She gently kicked him away.

Boring.

Once one’s parents have put on this same show, night after night, to a transfixed (me) crowd, it gets dull. One must interject. If one has the balls. And I had the balls.

“ Rena is a Quaker, dad, so watch out, “ I said with open blue eyes.

Rena snorted. She sucked down the last of the Chablis and kicked me. Let’s go, now.

“Oh, “ Mom said to her best new galpal. “ Really?”

Rena went along with it and said, “Your son never listens. I am a ‘shaker’, by birth, Eleanor”

Dad and Mom were flummoxed, til mom, damn her soul, said “Oh that nice furniture!”

“Exactly!’ Rena pronounced.

I stood up and said, “With all our denominations clear, and out in the open, I say, ‘tis time to go’ “

That was dad’s favorite way to get out of shit ,and he backed me.

He stood and said, formally, “Miss Oblong, you are always welcome here. You are a delightful addition to my high school, and…dare I say..our family. Best be with you. Uh, how do you Quakers end things?”

“George, sit down, now!” said Mother, whose mother had bequeathed a Shaker table to her. It was in the den, near the television. She put her tiny glass of Chablis on it, as she watched cnn and msnbc and Ophrah and the soaps every day.

“Sorry, el, “ dad said, deflating.He couldnt help add: "just askin'"

Rena got up and said, “George, no. I want to address what you said, there. “ she smoothed down her dirty skirt, adjusted her white blouse, kicked Joseph, and pronounced,

“We Shakers are an odd lot. We don’t approve of marriage, but we like to be inventive. Your son, a history student, recently gave me some ,ah,what for me are ‘treasured’, lost writings of our founders. He and I , we are going off to go over them. We gotta go over them, tonight.’

“Ah, understood,” Dad said.

Mom guffawed. “ well, miss oblong, don’t tax my son’s brain too much tonight. He needs it to bail his father out of trouble.”

Mom was referring to the bullying crisis at Dad’s high school.

“Oh, Eleanor, I would never!” Rena said and hugged mom. Mom is not used to being hugged, to say the least, but accepted it.

“Dad.”

“Jim!” he said, alert.

“Don’t hassle mom.”

‘’Okey dokey, Jim . Have a good night with your theological problem. Remember we got a meeting tomorrow, though, “ he said, eyeing the last remnants of that godforsaken ham.

………………………………..

BACKSTORY FOR BLAKE QUOTE:

As I was walking among the fires
of Hell, delighted with the enjoyments
of Genius, which to Angels look like
torment and insanity, I collected some
of their proverbs, thinking that as the
sayings used in a nation mark its
character, so the proverbs of Hell show
the nature of infernal wisdom

Out the door, the treefrogs singing, no canines dogging her, Rena threw her arms to the night coolness and said, “Hope your tummy isn’t that full.”

It was, but I said, “Why?”

“whole lotta shakin gotta be goin on.”

“why?”

She snorted and said, “what are you, a three yr old? ‘why why’ “

“Oh, sort of. Mend me. Initiate me into yr family’s rituals…”

Joseph’s ancient face at the door haunted me…….

.................................

This is shown in the Gospel, where
he prays to the Father to send the
Comforter or desire that Reason may
have ideas to build on, the Jehovah
of the Bible being no other than he
who dwells in flaming fire. Know
that after Christ's death he became
Jehovah.

But in Milton, the Father is Destiny,
the Son a ratio of the five senses, and
the Holy Ghost vacuum !

MORE PROVERBS:

The cut worm forgives the plough.

Dip him in the river who loves
water.

A fool sees not the same tree that a
wise man sees.

He whose face gives no light shall
never become a star.

for KEIKO ALVAREZ:

I do not prefer a Heaven without Women , thanks anyway

Tue, 29 May 2012 14:05:07 -0400

I wrote a silly little nothing post about ‘what it is like in heaven’ recently, and unfortunately i caught the attention of a certain ELJEKAR, who alarmingly takes what I write seriously. He wrote a response post that is resonant in amazing ‘jigsaw puzzle’ imagery, and a complete ‘rewrite’ of the Christian Mythos.

This fellow is a European, needless to say. As a ‘rough hewn’ proud American, I simultaneously worship and despise these foreigners. But he turns out to be a ‘good egg’. He doesn’t know how to talk American, it turns out. This makes for a lot of fun with him.

Here is his post, following my meager bit of metaphysical masturbation….

Eljekar's Blog

……………………………………………

Heaven is a big topic these days, in the Colonies.

“That god that you been prayin to is / gonna give you back/what u wishin on someone else’, quoting one of the poet troubadour Dylan’s most obscene songs, “new pony”, is all I gotta say to the American Gawd.

…………………………………………………

The American god is another thing indeed.

………………………………………………..

For one damn thing, it, He, She, They, whatever…encourages feminine energy to the max.

And this obviously results in fashion trends. Some of them unpleasing to the Goddamn Idiot’s eye, cuz they show a bit too much flesh.

……………………………………………

Fashion is fine with me. Women should be encouraged to display themselves, cuz that is what we primates are genetically engineered to do. Men too!

………………………………………………….

We are at ‘war’ with a religion that cloaks women up. But most Muslim women I have encountered have luminous beautiful eyes and kindness in their souls, so I cannot comment on this practice.

…………………………………………………..

Heaven?

Oh gimme a f-ing break.

Just go read Blake’s Marriage of Heaven & hell.

…………………………

I cant add anything useful to it.

Read the ‘proverbs of hell’.

here is another Leonardo:

Memorial Day 2012 Memoir

Mon, 28 May 2012 15:05:39 -0400

9 a.m….

( I was ‘’sleeping in”; a holiday, after all) :

BOOM!

Sounded just like when a “transformer”, whatever that could be, used to explode and I lost my electricity for awhile til the problem was fixed.

N, not that at all… I immediately turned the tv on. I do this every morning, to reacquaint myself with reality, get out of that weird dream world I have been enjoying. It’s a cool place, but I gotta say it aint practical to make your home there. I tried once, and it led to disaster……..

So: tv to CNN. Saw some soldiers, grim faced, carrying a coffin. Shit. It is Memorial Day.

So the boom probably had to do with this. It must have been a rifle. An old one. One of the new ones would have sounded very very different. This was but one shot.

Unbeknownest to me,the town was having a Memorial Day ceremony in the park by the library. To honor the veterans.

……………………………..

It was sunny and hot in the external world, so I decided to venture out. First I made some coffee of course, and then, because it was like 90 degrees in my upper room, I made some cutoffs from a beloved old pair of faded jeans. I don’t usually go out in public in shorts. Certainly not the circus shorts these youngsters wear today, too too long. One must show a bit of muscular thigh, if one is a man, is my sacred thought.

………………………..

I put on a new dress shirt too.

I ambled toward where the cars were. At the library! Well, I knew for damn sure the library was closed today, so it must be an ‘event’ in the park. By the way, the library wants to expand. Into the park. The populace is in an uproar: signs say, “save the park!”. I am not at all ambivalent. I want more library.

…………………………..

As I arrived, after a 15 minute walk, drenched in humidity, not knowing why I was there, I heard the mayor say some stuff about honor, respect, dignity. Telling me to show it…I was pissed off…I show it to who earns it, always…I am not a social retard who needs to hear in somber tones that I must feel a certain way. I feel how I feel.

Somber scene. Everyone grim . I scooted out of there quick.

………………………………………..

As I walked home, I saw a bunch of fellows in old costumes carrying rifles. No doubt some of them had shot their wad, earlier…those explosions truly startled me, while I was walking around ignorant .

All the stores were closed on Main Street. Except the liquor store. We just passed a law saying you can buy booze on Sundays and holidays. Also the little Muslim run convenience store was open. This place is affiliated with the mosque across the street from me. The first one in my town.

I eschewed the liquor store, though I sure wanted a beer, but knew better. I knew that if I started drinking, I would make a goddamn fool out of myself on OS. I’ve done that a lot, when I ‘ve jumped off the wagon, and it ends in restless sleep, nightmares, and a huge effort to mollify anyone I might have pissed off when I was what the English call a “piss artist” (drunk).

In the Muslim store I bought some soap. All I had was this tiny little piece that inevitably crumbles and then you are shit out of luck. I bought a Dove. I approached the counter and saw, to my utter delight, a bag of pipe tobacco for 6.75 American. I paid 10 or 11 at other places. I was beside myself, and came to the counter.

“Hlo sir,” said the tiny brown muslim guy.

“I guess these two items will do me!” I said, utterly expansive. If the kid had been one of those old bearded Muslims I see worshipping at the mosque, I might have teased him, gently, in a theological way.

But he was a boy.

I couldn’t resist saying: “My god, I cannot believe how cheap your tobacco is!”

……………………………

I exited into the intense heat.

Walked home.

There was Sarge, my housemate, the handyman of the property, trimming the roses.

I said, “Sarge! I heard a boom this morning, grabbed my gun, and went out to look for enemies! Shit I thought it was an invasion!”

He smirked, and softly, in his Southern drawl, said, “didja find any?” He was a Nam vet. He is insane half the time.

“Not a damn one! What the fuck man, where are all the good enemies?”

He said, “Oh they are around, jimmy. Just not where you expect.”

“Send me a damn email if ya come across any!”

I went inside,as he said, “Will do. Be good.”