Holy Trinity of abominations

In order for  life to proceed on this earth, 3 basic things are vitally needed:

1. Shit
2.  Fucking
3.  Death

Nice people dont talk about any of the three.
Most people avoid any thoughts of the three...(except fucking. Everyone THINKS about fucking. They just dont talk about it.)

I think we should erect chapels, and shrines to the Real holy trinity.

Dead things become resurrected into live things through the admixture of byproducts of metabolism (shit)    , by means of biological reproduction (fucking). There s your eternal life. World without end , Amen, made possible by the holy trinity of shit, fucking, and death.

I'm planning for this year's garden.
Last years dead annuals have laid in my soil, being consumed, and shit out  by  microorganisms , who fuck without ceasing. The plants having fucked, have produced seeds as their last mortal act.
I'm going to plant these, and cover them generously with shit...fermented, composted shit, in which occurs dizzying incidences of  shitting, fucking and death.

Heres a link to a blog post about how I plant to use the media of the trinity to make a garden:http://smoulderingsuck.blogspot.com/

Coatlicue Part 2: She has many faces.

Coatlicue was not always a dark god.

She was once bright, and cute and pastelly , and innocent. She looked a lot like this :

http://www.excerptsofinri.com/images/our_lady_of_guadalupe.jpg

She was innocent and chaste, and shiny. 

She was known for her goodness , purity, and abstinence, She gave birth as a virgin to a hybrid man/ god.

The unusual conception occurred when pious  Coatlicue was obediently sweeping the temple.

 A bundle of hummingbird feathers  was dislodged by her broom, and drifted up in between her virtuous legs. 

Nine months later, a virgin  Coatlicue gave birth to Quetzalcoatl, feathered snake, sort of a God, and sort of a man. (In Aztec  belief,and my belief as well, beings can be more than one thing at one time.  Check this out for graphic representation of the idea :
http://www.luckymojo.com/manopoderosa.gif 

Events subsequent to the virgin birth of her  feathered snake  turn that good girl into a dark devouring claw-footed snake-headed monster, and elevated Coatlicue from  pretty little  temple-sweeper to one big powerful diety. 
Stay tuned for part 3, in which Coatlicue gets MAD!

Coatlicue (part1)

Coatlicue (Kwat-LEE-kay)  . She's a dark one.

Coatlicue means "she wears snakes"

She is also known as Toci (Our Grandmother) , and Teteoinan (Mother of Gods) , and  Cihuacoatl  (Our Lady of the serpent).

Coatlicue  is represented  wearing a skirt of rattlesnakes and a necklace  of human hearts, hands and skulls.  These are the remains of her  children, who she has devoured.

 She has claws on her feet, for digging graves. 

She has 2  rattlesnake heads arising from her neck, and smaller snake heads arising from her shoulders. Her flaccid breasts sag, from centuries of maternal nurturing. (Yes. She nurtures AND destroys.... Make no mistake everything born will have an end.)

Her massive image,  in  Stone was uncovered  in 1790, by one Antonio de León y Gama , during excavation on the Main  Plaza of Mexico City.

The stone is nearly 9 feet tall, and nearly writhes with basalt snakes.

The European conquerors who first dug her up, regarded the statue as an appalling and dreadful monster , but the children of the Mexica  recognized her.

 Indigenous people greeted the newly excavated Goddess by lavishing her with candles and flowers. They burned incense. They sang songs.

The Europeans, followers of a pastel colored religion that pretends there is no death ,  wasted no time re-burying  the fearsome and repellent monument. They re-interred Coatlicue where she could not be seen. They built a massive patio over her, so that denizens of the surface of Earth would no longer be disturbed by so grisly a statue, and by the inevitable end to mortality she promised.

And in the ground she stayed....for 13 years, until curious anthropologists dug her up again..., briefly.  Upon viewing her loathsome visage, they immediately re-buried her yet again. 

The statue of Coatlicue was dug up again in 1823.

A cast image of the stone was sent to London where it was publicly displayed to thousands of  English Ladies and Gentleman.

The English (followers of the palest of pastel gods)  came to no quantifiable harm from viewing Coatlicue's horrid visage.

The great stone of Coatlicue has been allowed to remain on the Earths'surface , in full view.....for now.

She resides in the National Museum of Archaeology in Mexico City.

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More about Coatlicue later.  She is complicated.

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JESUS RETURNS!!!! (dies cold and alone in Moscow Idaho)

 For I was  hungry, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink:

 I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not.

 Then shall they also answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungry, or thirsty, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee?

 Then  he answered them, saying, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of my brothers, ye did it not to me.

Matthew 25, 42-46

Heres the story:

http://www.oregonlive.com/pacific-northwest-news/index.ssf/2013/01/university_of_idaho_student_li.html

Tiger

I had occasion to meet a Tiger.

A large Siberian kind.
Amur.
It was love at first sight.

He was born in captivity, but he was not domestic. Not anything like domestic.
When I met him , he was un-caged. He needed no cage anymore. A fatal dose of phenobarbitol had only 30 minutes before, stopped his large heart.  He was still very warm, and very soft, and looked like most of the life was still in him, though his un-caged tiger soul hovered just above, looking around the room, for another gig.

I asked him to come in.
My thorax is hollow and could use a Tiger's soul.  Theres plenty of room in there, if the tiger doesn't mind the company of a few snakes.

A year or so past, one of the Amur Tigers at the Boise zoo (Yes. It was this very Tiger) came out of his enclosure and wrapped his huge Catchers' mitt paws around a woman's leg, and began to aim his very large teeth at an especially soft spot.
There was a policeman, and a gun. Shots were fired. There was confusion, and loud noises. The tiger retreated back into his enclosure. The woman was treated at a local hospital for her injuries, which, were principally from a gunshot wound to her leg.
Everyone survived the day.



Tiger, I love you, and I wouldn't mind sharing souls.
If you were still living, I might like to have made love to you.
Not really. It would not be right. Issues of consent come up , and besides, I dont want to make love to anyone.
But I would WANT to want to make love to you.

Please be with me , always.
Like Jesus, only tigers are real.

And,edited to add this : Tiger feet smell exactly like dog's feet.

Solstice : Its the reason for the season

During the darkest day of the year, the Aztecs used to remove a beating heart from a strong and vigorous person, and ,commend this sacrifice  to entice the sun to reverse its course and begin to shine upon the world again.

Our sun is not so demanding. Our sun only requires that time flows. There is no time without change. And there is no change without ...CHANGE.
We grow older. (We lose our youth.)
Relationships wax and wane..
Dear ones depart this world.
We lose our parents.
We lose our dogs.
Our babies grow up.

Sacrifices are extracted from us.
Chunks of our beating hearts, ceded to time,
So that the sun will slowly return.
And it will, because time has extracted its due.
Tomorrow, the sun is newborn.
When you are in the dark, Light becomes astonishing.

Midwinter.
The seeds of Spring and Summer are in the soil. There will be flowers!
New babies.
New puppies.

Bring it!

So whats the deal with the Snakes?

I like snakes.
they have a grace in simplicity. If one doesn't need legs, Legs become ugly.

I like the country where snakes live. Its not green soft and smooth. The Snakes I'm thinking of, live in dry hard country where nearly everything is spiny, or bites. or stings. One takes nothing for granted. One is not fed any reassuring falsehoods.
A rattlesnake seems honest to me, as honest as any creature, and far more honest than most folks.
When you see a rattling pit-viper, your gut knows long before your mind does, that you'd best have a care.
No doubts about it. No flowery promises from Don Cascabel. He is exactly how he appears to be. He doesn't promise you eternal love , but he also doesn't condemn your soul to an eternity of torment and fire if you neglect to eternally love him back , or if you are gay , or if you eat pork, or lust in your heart, or miss Mass.
Snake doesn't promise you everlasting life , but encountering snake reminds you that life can and will be curtailed at some sudden time.
See a snake.  Be alive now

In the lore of  North American indigenous peoples in arid lands, where water is life , snakes are tied to the bringing of rain. killing a snake is what causes drought.  Snakes are venerated. Loved. Greeted respectfully and left unmolested.
The indigenous peoples of Mexico hail snakes as their creators, and saviors of mankind. (During the flood, snakes wove themselves together to form a raft for all the people.). Noah was a total no-show for those guys.
The hills surrounding Mexico's fertile valleys are huge creator snakes, yet sleeping.

The Huichol people of Northern Mexico know  snakes as messengers.
Worthy messengers they are. Who can ignore a rattlesnake.  He shows himself , he has your attention.

Last night I encountered a middling sized Crotalis viridis (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crotalus_viridis) seeking to warm itself on a road, just after sunset.
I nudged it gently with my foot to encourage it to remove itself from the dangerous pavement. Its head turned slowly towards me,but low , as if it seemed to take my measure.  Very slowly and with as gentle a heart as I could muster, I  reached down , way down, watching , very much watching the snakes' response. I put my index finger under its belly and felt it move over my skin. It was warm. There was no tension in its movements. I put my middle finger , and then my ring finger under the snake . I lifted about half an inch and scooted Don Cascabel toward the roadside with my fingers.

I've been vibrating pleasantly ever since. I don't know what the message was, but I think it was a good one.

Thank you snake. I hope we meet again.
Be careful of traffic. We don't need another drought.


Snakes dont have ears. They hear with their whole bodies.