birthday wish * I’ll scry if I want to * the Devil |
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‘Tis my bday week and am going to pay tribute to one of the more tainted/tarnished cards in the deck, and as it is one of my year cards (59 – 44 = 15). My temptation is to set aside any goody two shoes that I might regularly employ and set them to the side for the year. My suspicion is that the fifteen card is hiding place for a lot of Christian guilt and (unnecessary) implication. My admiration for this card lies in that the original meaning of the card held by some, is that the Devil is actually our ocean & earth guardian, and partner to the empress. And last would surmise that in the Devil we have invitation to really taste of life, and to really feel it and get with it, and as opposed to (better) know of life and things. The question is are we at best slaves to the rhythm, or can we choose to “slip into something more comfortable ?” And by no mind am I privy to what transpired in the garden of Eden, and pray tell what is of our human bondage ?? Why do we objectify her body and what of our undammed sexual energy and perversions ?? How is that our black magic woman warrants the caution flag and flashing lights ?? Why is passion so taboo in some circles ?? How do we go about becoming unleashed and to leave our chains on the ground, and as full blood brothers and sisters to el Diablo and the darkside goddess ?? The devil derives from guilt ridden monosexual cults, and despite that he has little to do with any sort of temptress, and is instead more a releaser from temptation (nature is naturally healing), than not. There is the emperor and the apple woman (death), the hermit and the innocent (Sophia, Shekinah, Mary), the herdsman and the flower maiden, and/or the hunter and lady of flowers. Is it so wrong to romance of the philosopher’s stone ?? What’s so hard about (peace, love and) sexual equality ?? Our task is to bring consciousness into the body, perhaps by dance and/or yoga, and to embody the goddess. And as the stag is totem to the guardian, can we move from the stag nation and get on board a relation ship ?? Do we do what’s taboo and take a (big) bite out of the apple ?? And if there’s hell to be paid, how do we stay paid up ?? If the road to hell is paved with good intentions, how do we break ranks ?? And if the road to excess leads to the palace of wisdom, just how do we lift the restrictions ?? Purgatory is little more than invitation to purge our story. Don’t just do it, be into it. Intuit your way. Real eyes that the unbearable lightness of being is oft but our ascending and/or descending via thresholds of altered consciousness. Real eyes the guardian as agent of/for change, and as paired with the empress who builds, increases and benefits. Together they are father and mother of the divine child. At the outset of the journey the fool resides in and of the inner world. In theory she (soon) traverses the abyss enroute to our nethermost underworld. Along the way there is the invitation to leave behind the bright lights and big city for the proverbial darkness like chocolate and a subsequent cleansing by way of our oft unseen nightly shower of stars. And perhaps with black cat or bat as familiar, we travel under the protection of the Shinto black sun goddess. Enroute to see Ereshkigal (twin sister of Enki) or the Ninki gal, our dark muse can see the corruption within us, and as able to embody the wildman we cut away illusion and become purifier of just the such (corruption). As dark (elf) king we are of an intrinsic luminosity and keeper of a most numinous and natural light, and tender a lumen naturae for all to see. St. Dionysius of Areopagite talks of the superessential radiance of the divine Darkness. He suggests of a most incomprehensible, most luminous and most exalted, secret Silence. He furthers a notion that beyond positive and negative, beyond pure or impure and into the darkness, that there may well be the one beyond the all. For some the default mechanism is to call that god. At the outer limits of my (personal) experience, the inclination is to reference the experience as the void and/or abyss. Is the devil the proverbial black hole ?? How deep does her immanence run ?? He alludes to (her) as the darkness of unknowing, the superessential darkness that is hidden by the light. He suggests again that there is the absence of light (darkness) and then an excess of light (the superessential version). By not seeing he proffers that we move beyond the intellect, unto a transcendent unknowing (agnosia), all but voiceless and ineffable. His proposition is that we cut away all excess and bring light to that which is shadowed. Or as Lord Buckley might espouse, that we knock the corners off the squares and straighten out the cats with the bent frames. Dismemberment is symbolic of our shamanic initiation. Things fall to pieces and it all falls together (again). Stay in the black. Wait until the time is right. The price of technology is vigilance. Soon upon the cautionary tale and tower, the devil lacks faith in his fellow man. Fooled by man but never by goddess, consider to heed the call (and feverish pitch) of the hunting horn, that of which summons souls to an otherworld. Perhaps endowed by the Horned One/Cernunnos, are we party to the culling and/or herding, alongside the swine and (magickal) underworld beasts, and/or (as Perry Farrell sings) is it that “we’ll make nice pets.” Or is it simply an unnamable, unthinkable, invisible period of adjustment required for our antennae (antler), and to then know that silence (of the chimera) is golden. If I find myself overreaching and overextended, will there be retribution in wait ?? With wastelands upon wastelands (of the netherworld), does my degeneration and belief in superiority fall short of the day that the power of love overcomes the love of power ?? If I ride out these turbulent waters is my watershed some semblance of the tenth hierarchy ?? And a life well lived ?? Can it not be found herein, heaven on earth ?? And was it not lost on Lucifer, that not all who wander are lost ?? |
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Sea water is full of life and so are we. Whether it’s a Todos drop, the Waimea boil or Maverick’s ledge, surfing is full of wild excitement, with every session a blessing. Surfers of fortune honor their wild hellman within by an intent to fully infringe on all god-given opportunities. The hellman goes over the edge and comes back. He needs to feel alive. He surfs on edge and is agile. Our swashbuckler is a eurhythmic. He is a gone surf cat and his surf settlement a surf rat haven. He is of the surfing underground and not to be found at name spots. Leave the surf rat race behind. Welcome a radical change of direction. Sober up on pure unsweetened island juice. Let that Halloween swell test your surf sobriety. Be a surfer, not the stereotype. A surfer without responsibility may wait until ready for bigger days, but remember, waves are perishable. Get on it. Charlie might not surf, but you do. Surf anew. Surf in the rain. Taste waves for yourself. |
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For many the myth of Hell Island is an invitation to the Unseen or “otherside,” a call to the wild, an inevitable imperative imposed upon by the great Unknown. Surrounded by mana, mystery and madness, we go without mentor, and are soon without pride or vanity. We find the enchanted isle unfamiliar but festive, as we are receptive to her hypnotic rhythm and exotic display upon arrival. We are greeted by music and the wild beachlife as merit for our intrepid, fortuitous souls. The uncharted island is an ocean wilderness complete with underwater caves and fingers. She is the untainted source and offers epic perfection in a sea life sanctuary. Our untamed spirit and earthly desire, heretofore an untransformed power, taboo and raw, are now safe within her “mindblowin” vicissitudes. Surrounded by emotion and haunted by our shadow side, our visit is replete with chance and but a test of faith; nothing more than opportunity to face challenge and seek measure of how we deal with our shadow or evil within. A near death experience for some, it is darkness like chocolate for others, an ecstatic journey to the wild unkempt fringe, a chance for the vital and uninhibited personality to find emancipation and playtime, having left dogma behind at home. |
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Our fallen star is loathing in anger at being abused. Intolerant of limitation but crippled by fear of change, we load up on paranoia but remain insulated from our pain and fear with pot bellies for ourselves and blame for others. Intestinal fortitude gives way to sugar relapse and an intestinal permeability and imbalance. Our fall from grace has us clawing for self respect and self worth, but our weaknesses hold sway. We succumb to temptation and revert to old vices, as we come up lame and weaken. Our craving and compulsion for junk food and junk sex is our escape from dealing with daily phobias. But you cannot run from yourself. No matter where you go, there you are. A belief in suffering follows from our failure to embark upon our inner journey. Held back? Argue for your limitations and they’re yours. Afraid of what? Exceed your limits, lose your magic. Violate propriety, disrupt the status quo, destroy dogma, and voila, you’re the social goat. As sinner and compulsive iconoclast, we’re frustrated in our struggle between (sensual) freedom and (sexual) bondage. Our random spent energy leaves us undisciplined and without results. And when we come out of our stupor, our surf hangover finds us sunbaked and burnt, none the better for our surf bacchanal. Once haole demigod we are now surf harlequin. We fell in with the wrong crowd. We coulda, shoulda, woulda, oughtta, gotta – go to Hell Island. We should have said no. Something wasn’t right. It was the nightmare trip hype, the curse of the scorpion. We were the damned, the disenchanted. It was for the experience. You were the hairy, out-of-kilter madman, but a yes man. You didn’t follow your intuition. You were a night owl on the brink of a nervous breakdown, a brooding volcano. You found yourself in hell. |
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There was no cure for your fever because you were stuck on the rock for the duration. You wouldn’t let the shaper chart your course. You refused the new template. You were a surf addict, but couldn’t find any speed because your board was like molasses. You were dryfuss and got skunked. There were no waves and no “zip-piddy-doo-da” to your surfing. You were a surf glutton for punishment. You were gone and over the falls while exposed reef, boils, close outs and cleanup sets mercifully and mercilessly washed you clean of unwanted ions and inflictions. Erstwhile fears of mysto localism are not long to find you imagining things behind the bug-eyed, furrowed brows of the local, feral surfers, and while the grubby surf squalor does nothing to belie the illusion of evil and treachery about. Home to a helter-skelter, mutant surf culture, Hell Island is a surfing Alcatraz, a place where thresholds were made to be broken, a spot where truth and fiction do indeed collide. A forbidden island with forbidden knowledge, Hell Island can break a man. |
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Feast on negative ions. Frolic in the shorebreak but keep your awareness during the frivolity. Educate yourself. Wisdom comes from the love of life. It’s ok to have crazy fun. Get wet. Free your wild spirit within. Skip and go naked surfing. Exercise your free will. Only you can break the chain. Rethink. Choose humanity. Alter your mind. Explore your genius within. Alter your line. Go off course! Enjoy the unknown. Appreciate what life has to offer. Our common bond is our respect for our Mother Ocean. Celebrate surfing’s joy. Unleash your passion. Dance upon the waves. Life is for living. Sundance. Show people another path. Open our eyes and hearts. |
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Escape from the scapegoat. Get out of the dogma house. Deal with it. Use the fire’s ire for exorcise. Rid yourself of evil and excess. It’s just ignorance. Return to equilibrium. Balance your self. Meet chaos head on. Rebound off the soup. Respect the locals. Go native. Listen to your elders. Be cool. Our surf gods promise enchantment. Be sensual. Be a belly dancer. Don’t stop. Drop in. Visit with fairies. Be easily amused. Laugh in the face of the devil’s advocate. |
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just a note to those of you that have made it all the way thru to here... decks are for sale (please click this link) |
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