Chariots of God (Scripture & Photo Examined)

That's not the Holy Spirit manifesting in that curious fashion (I mean, why?), it's Elvis: He's dead, man, but he's trying to come back.I think I knew that AG '69, and prized it especially for its clarity.Anyway, William Blake claimed to see the heavenly host where others saw the sun rise, and he did good work. I'm sure Scot sees all manner of things, and some of his pictures are kind of pretty. They remind me of the fairy photos.

And a voracious, pansexual voyeur.And how does Satan watch us?Is there an UnHoly Spirit, say, with red eyes? I have seen those.

Well, sure. Great bunch of guys though they need a new shortstop.They never leave you with the bar tab or try to sell you insurance.They know what's up, and it ain't bubbles.But some of these Christians don't know how to play ball, will pluck you like a pigeon and don't have a clue.I don't need any answers from you, sonny.

I choose to see those as Venus rising from the waves...

It keeps him out of mischief elsewhere.

And I've seen the world in a grain of sand, and the universe in a flower.
You need to read more.You get to be Glendower:

quote:

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GLENDOWER
... At my nativity
The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
Of burning cressets, and at my birth
The frame and huge foundation of the earth
Shaked like a coward.

​

HOTSPUR
Why, so it would have done
At the same season if your mother’s cat
Had but kittened, though yourself had never been born.

​

GLENDOWER
I say the earth did shake when I was born.

​

HOTSPUR
And I say the earth was not of my mind,
If you suppose as fearing you it shook.

​

GLENDOWER
... Give me leave
To tell you once again that at my birth
The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds
Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.
These signs have marked me extraordinary,
And all the courses of my life do show
I am not in the roll of common men.
...

​

HOTSPUR
I think there’s no man speaks better Welsh.
I’ll to dinner.

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Jeez, we can't see the photograph, Mister Spirit.You should drop the aggressive/moronic posture.Even the airy fairy affect is better.

Your photograph does not appear in my browser. I see no means to track it.

Bear with me, spidey: these are digressive reflections, Omni-bio style, and not everyone's cup of meat. The hallucinogen dimethyltryptamine (DMT) is infamous for this effect: like the UFO abduction phenomena, the DMT experience often includes gray aliens/elves who sometimes perform invasive tests.

quote:

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Dimethyltryptamine (DMT) is a naturally occurring psychedelic drug found in many plants and animals, and has been claimed to naturally occur in the human brain itself (Strassman, 2001). DMT, less well-known than other psychedelics such as psilocybin or LSD, is striking for the brevity and intensity of its effects. When smoked, for example, hallucinogenic effects begin almost immediately and resolve within 30 minutes. As a result, it is sometimes known facetiously as the businessman’s lunch trip (Cakic, Potkonyak, & Marshall, 2010). One of the most remarkable features of the DMT experience is the frequency with which users encounter non-human intelligences, often resembling aliens. Even more remarkably, some users come away from these encounters convinced that these entities are somehow real (Strassman, 2001). The psychological aspects of such experiences have not yet been adequately explored by scientific researchers.

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Two points interest me here: Scott's conviction that his orbs must represent something both holy and real, despite cautionary Biblical passages, and Faith's belief that his reports must represent either fraud or demons. It is a truism to observe that such certainties can lead to barbaric actions; it is also true. Setting the contentious consequences aside, I want to look at both certainties through the lens of my Abby Normal brain chemistry.I see faces in folds of cloth and clouds, hear spontaneous "soundtrack" music appropriate to a present event or mood, as well as hearing music emerge from sounds as diverse as my own heartbeat, pulse and breath which then develops into complex symphonic structures; and, yes, voices that offer narrowly specific content. More on that later. Indeed.As I've reported before, since early childhood I've experienced what most religion's adherents would term mystical (or demonic, I suppose) states. I learned later that to outside observers I was experiencing petit mal seizure-like states, so insensible to sensory input that a football coach teaching botany once picked up my entire student desk and dropped it while I blissed out, because I hadn't responded to his shouted threats. At first, these states occurred when I was alone in a natural setting, and were essentially pantheistic, the commonly reported oceanic experience, the sense of union with all things accompanied by a sense of reverence and awe. While ecstatic, these never took on the imagery or symbolism of Christian belief.But when I explored the mystical literature in search of understanding, I found those transports taking on the symbolic imagery of the specific works under study. Now an aging man, these transports occur less often, once again almost solely in natural settings, devoid of any formal religious trappings. I still occasionally hear voices. More on that later.I drew no conclusions about the world from all this other than the recognition that a brain normal enough to function successfully in the world could also generate those experiences. I suspect that some of the earliest purveyors of religious interpretation, shamans, were individuals with similar experiences: all living things are connected, and life can be informed by a joyous sense of it, all the more so when that sense is yoked with knowledge.Shamans in diverse cultures turned to naturally occurring hallucinogens to achieve visions. I also explored hallucinogens as a young man, and found the two experiences--my own transports and the chemically-derived trip--quite distinct. I never believed, for example, that the visual and auditory experiences of LSD, were real; during out-of-body experiences, I still knew I had a body which was generating the OOB state via chemical stimuli. While I did experiment with home-cooked DMT, I never saw aliens or elves; I knew my buddy wasn't really turning into a werewolf.As to Scott's certainty of a Christian origin for his visions, we need look no further than the local specifics of his birth and upbringing; Faith's false dilemma--fraud or demon--also derives from her own literalist religious background. Scott's orb experiences are apparently so compelling that he attends to neither Biblical cautions nor any other test to establish the orb's bonafides--to request those tests is to confess spiritual failure. Faith's most common response to large bodies of evidence is to suspect even larger conspiracies, and to defend the evidence is either to join the conspiracy or be taken in by it. The false dilemma is the hallmark of the literalist.Both fail to take into account the fact that these states have been reported by humans beings for almost as long as we have human reports, since long before the religions that condition their own views existed. Brain science is zeroing in on the genetic and physiological roots of spiritual/religious states. It is the intersection of a narrow religious certainty and a broad ignorance of human experience and brain science that condition polarized and dismissive points of view.I first heard voices (voice, actually) in the fifth grade--I can be that specific (I could date it to a particular day, if I had my old schoolwork). We began the study of poetry that day, followed by a poem-writing exercise. Mrs. Montgomery, that dear woman whose patience I martyred, told us to listen for inspiration: we'd know it when we heard it.And so I did! A small, still voice dictated an entire quatrain. I've written poetry ever since for my own satisfaction and insight, without any strong literary ambitions, but 20+ years after Mrs. Montgomery, I submitted a ms. at the urging of an undergrad mentor, and was selected by a Nobel Prize-winning poet for his MFA program. I add that not to boast--many such workshops fill every year, after all--but to demonstrate the "voice" offered more than just poesy-babble. Afterwards, I went to work as a gunslinger manuscript preparer in medical and legal offices while building PCs and studying database programming at night.Who wants to be one thing? I recall in those days waking up from a dream of nested arrays of macros, a 3-D chorus line of little ladies who soft-shoed out of their boxes and introduced themselves and their abilities. It wasn't Xanadu or a benzene ring, but I ran to the computer and typed furiously, anxious not to lose one line.Scott's orbs, Faith's demons, my visions, voices and music--we all sound mad as hatters. But these things are actually quite common, and there are rational explanations for each. Exploring the scientific context of my own experiences--Paracusia? Pereidolia? Cross-chatting cognitive functions that usually from a seamless, synthetic experience of identity but don't in my Abby Normal brain?--is a lifelong hobby.Had I lived these experiences in the context of a religious certainty, I think I would have gone unhappily mad in the land of paranoia and obsession. Instead, I could enjoy the show and sometimes turn the phenomena to useful purposes--from a rapt, restorative experience of being to creative expressions of lyricism and coded logic.A strong grounding in reason and science empowered me to observe my own idiosyncracies (or idiopathologies, if you like) without despair or mis-inspired belief. As a child, the combination of a rational perspective and an exotic internal life gave me precocious insight into the difference between the world as it is and what our brains can make of it.I wish Scott and Faith the best: they are, I believe, sincerely reporting how they apprehend the world. I also wish them both better seeing and better visions.

Oh sure, that's fair: slice and dice my ideas for the length of your post, and then utterly disarm me. You may be sure that if I find myself face-to-face with the devil, I'll make the intuitive leap to God.I appreciate the spirit of your comment, and I'll try to respond with a civility as considerable as our differences. That's really the only point I want to make right now.I like you, too, Faith, which is why I often don't respond to your posts, or do so indirectly; it's also why you can make me angry: otherwise, why would I care?The daily reminders that billions of people share similar beliefs doesn't bother me at all--it puzzles me, but I'm not irritated by those anonymous people. I love religious people, it's the local preacher who drives me nuts. You know how that works. I understand that your faith must give rise to similar sentiments of consternation, as you fear damnation for folks whom you've come to know and like and who just don't seem to listen.I'd hazard to say you are well-liked here by most. I'm sure there are strenuous exceptions. They don't all love me, either.*We'd make a good case study of polar opposition masking foundational commonalities. Despite our profound differences of belief, we're of a generation and share all those cultural references, and, I suspect, some important life experiences. We're intellectually excitable; intensely serious about the importance of self-honesty and true speech. I value that passionate curousity--because that's what human curiousity is, a thirst for the truth-- most in myself, so I can hardly fail to respect it in you, even when we reach diametrically opposed positions. You can call it a thirst for God, and I won't mind.We both speak our minds and give offense, sometimes dismissively. My verbal censors began falling long ago and were finally pulverized by age and literal hard knocks, even after post-traumatic cognitive therapy to reacquire some reserve, which as you can see didn't work and I see only the ruins of yours.So for now, on the issues, I'll simply say that what makes my theory better than yours is evidence.I liked reading a post from you that was written as though I were an honest, serious person. During strong debate, it's easy to lose sight of those qualities in another, and I sometimes do. So thanks for the sentiment and the civility. I'll try to keep both in mind._______________________________________________________
*Everybody Loves Me Baby (What's the matter with you?)

Shits & grins?

Actually, it would be contemporary doctors' intellectual ancestors who drilled holes in heads.Yours were probably stealing someone else's land and hunting witches.I'd like to assure you that doctors also no longer apply leeches or bleed you for every common malady. They've moved further into the future than you have.Wait for me, Asgara!

The Top Ten Reasons You're A Fool:Well, old son, the caring physicians of today have provided me with a little purple pill--levothyroxine--without which I would slow down until I died. It would take a few miserable months.They provided me with an implanted neurostimulator that blocks untreatable spinal nerve pain, so I can sit and communicate with you (oh joy) rather than writhing in pain or vegetating on opiate painkillers.They repaired the cervical spine structural damage that made my left arm and leg work only intermittently and weakly, using engineered laminate bone wafers and titanium scaffolding.They rebuilt my left knee so that I can walk.They repaired the ripped Achilles tendon I won in the Army, and saved my life when gangrene set in under the cast.They expertly treated the burns I received over 70% of my body so well that I don't have to feel like a freak when I take off my shirt.They cured with IV antibiotics the peritonitis that drove my temp to 106 and threw me into convulsions.They excised the precancerous growths from my colon so that I didn't die at 60 from colon cancer like my grandfather.They removed my grandmother's cataracts and gave her the gift of sight for the last 20 of her 107 years.They saved my brother's life 20 years ago with sophisticated surgery and radiation when he developed Agent Orange-associated esophageal cancer. We've only grown close in the last ten years or so; that may be the most precious gift of all.You, sir, are an intellectual moron and a moral idiot. I most fervently hope you do not control anyone else's access to care, else you'll be a murderer, too. Now run along and play with your little balls.

Precision is important.

Fairies are English; spirits are Continental.Ask them to say Gloucester.