My apologies: I won't be reading Ogham this week because the clacking of the tiles bothers my cat Kiki and we are euthanizing her tomorrow. I ask for prayers for her smooth transition through the Gates.
Ogham readings will return next Monday. Thank you for your patience and support.
“Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams
The blue Mediterranean, where he lay,
Lull'd by the coil of his crystalline streams
Beside a pumice isle in Baiæ's bay,
And saw in sleep old palaces and towers
Quivering within the wave's intenser day,
All overgrown with azure moss and flowers
So sweet, the sense faints picturing them.”
-Percy Shelley
The general state of the astral has become so clogged and septic, I don’t know if the lot of us sleeping 10 hours a night, including yogis, would help. In a goofy way I am grateful to drive a car, because the roads are an excellent litmus test of astral plane conditions. Lately, there’s more road rage than I have seen in my lifetime. One out of every five cars routinely blasts whiny rap music where a severely-autotuned voice belches profanity to a loop that sounds like an perpetual Nike commercial. The Wokester stands at the stoplight corner waiting to cross, his mask neatly covering most of his face despite the fact he is solo and the temperature is well upwards of 90 degrees Fahrenheit. Tonight I saw a person in a souped up muscle car revving and weaving a tight S-curve in heavy traffic because he was frustrated at not being able to fly past the car ahead of him at 80 miles per hour. The modern suburbs are a place where angels fear to tread and the city is worse. We are in the darkest, most disillusioned era in human history. To seek enlightenment right now is to attempt to float in a tsunami. No matter how far along on the Path one is right now, the astral is still a gray, forbidding place clogged with busybodies and busywork. I cannot control the milieu of my nightly dreams (my astral environment) any more than I can control the fact there are superhighways bisecting my state.
Astral Tourism
There are self-declared mentats who seek to control the dream environment and to turn sleep into a big lucid dreaming playground where everything is beautiful (or at least funny) and nothing hurts. In essence, they want to turn dreaming into a long episode of masturbation, be it mental or of the usual kind. I tend to think they are spinning their wheels until karma smacks the smugness out of them, but like I always say, I could be wrong. We are meant to learn from dreams. Those who refuse to do so remind me of the American tourist stereotype. Instead of offending the French while in Paris, the astral tourist lumbers around dreams slaughtering the language and missing subtle cues as he desperately tries to sop up “experience”, all the better to later inflict upon others with an optional slide show.
They gave me three cards.
The tree-letter they gave me symbolizing the Past was Onn or Community well-dignified. The plant originally associated with Onn is Gorse, but as Gorse is not common to my area of the Upper Midwest, I have replaced it with the native plant Monarda or Bee Balm, a favorite of pollinators and human gardeners alike.
Most of us have seen the breakup of one or more of our communities in the last 20 - 40 years, with especially marked disintegration since February 2020. I am no exception. I grew up in the 70s on a block where everyone knew each other. I considered my neighbors, who consisted of older semi-retired couples and young couples either had children or planned to do so, as extended family members. We thought nothing of giving each other spare keys just in case we locked ourselves out of our own homes. There was a thing called Neighborhood Watch. Those who were part of it put a little sign in the window designating it as a place to go just in case some creep in a van offering candy decided to lurk in our cloistered enclave. Every year, the elementary school put out a self-published, mimeographed address book of the names, addresses, and phone numbers of every person in school as well as the teachers and principal. In other words, there was a sense of community that did not survive into the modern day.
Tales of My Misspent Youth
I knew the halcyon days of 70s-early 80s community were done and over with around the time I quit my local teacher’s association after approximately six years of membership. Hoping to prove my competence, I took on the duty of administering music theory testing for my local chapter. An average of 300 students took the test per year and it was my unpaid job to organize a venue, testing, and grading among the other teacher-volunteers. Many tears were shed as I came to the realization that the organization was sucking me dry. it all came to a head when a particularly entitled teacher expected me to put 21 of her students through the test without any exchange of work while she and her husband went on vacation over the winter break. She left a salty “How dare you!” voicemail that I have since forgiven but I will never forget. Her Boomer outrage was one of my first object lessons in the predicament of the Professional Managerial Class, a set of people who want it all but who aren’t happy no matter how much they’ve got. Had she been the only one who had tried her stunt, I might still be in the organization today. She was far from the only one.
When I went vegan in July 2010, I found myself absorbed by a new, burgeoning community of animal rights activists. This group had plenty of problems, but overall there was great camaraderie, especially locally. I organized vegan potlucks, holiday gatherings, and even a charity vegan bake sale one year. The juggernaut created by my group and others was enough to get plant-based burgers and other options on the menu of several major fast food chains. Celebrities, eager to virtue signal, adopted veganism as a diet and soon realized that for a large number human beings, eating loads of plants can easily lead to better digestion, immunity, and the reversal of supposedly incurable chronic diseases. Veganism made major inroads onto the health scene, with documentaries like Forks Over Knives, Cowspiracy, and What the Health skewering Big Pharma and yanking the curtain off its incestuous relationship with Big Agriculture and Big Government. That’s why nobody was more surprised than I was when my former allies in the vegan scene went running with open arms to embrace unhealthy masking and Big Pharma’s latest cash cow, the MRNA inoculation in the guise of a vaccine. People who I thought were made of stronger and better stuff sucked up what I thought was blatant hysteria — better mask and vaxx or you’ll show yourself to be a Trump supporter! The vegan community has been blown to shreds over this issue.
I was one of the lucky ones, for at least I did not have to come home to a spouse who wanted me to submit my body to medical experimentation. I know plenty of people who are living with someone who volunteered for the Frankenlab Jab. Members of my own family have gotten it. The Plandemic has rudely ripped out much of the tolerant complacency that glued families and communities together: that’s what I think my Ogham were trying to say with Onn or Community representing a major factor of our collective past.
The second or Situation card symbolizing the present day is Tinne or Defense ill-dignified. In the old system, Tinne is attributed to Holly, which is one and the same as the parasitic winter plant that climbs oak trees in Europe. I have only seen holly growing on an oak once in my life, and someone had cultivated it in their yard and had to point it out. Around my area of the Northern Illinois prairie, we have a common tree called Eastern Cedar. The Eastern Cedar is not a true cedar, but like holly, it is evergreen and prickly.
Just When You Thought It Was Safe…
Defense is a difficult balance, and my Ogham say our current approach to it is decidedly imbalanced. it is easy to have two kinds of imbalance at once: both too much and too little defense.
Defense is often imaginary. The mask, like a toddler’s talismanic stuffed toy, is an imaginary defense. It is proven not to work on the physical plane. Whether or not those still wearing the mask realize it, they are engaging in superstition. The MRNA vaccine is also superstition, and a vastly more harmful one than masks at that. The mask wearer is in the same unenviable frame of mind as a compulsive hand washer. The compulsive hand washer lives in fear of touch, wary of pathogens that will surely invade the sanctum of his body. Meanwhile, his hands crack and bleed and he is ironically more prone to scary pathogens by virtue of a dampened immune system from over-cleanliness and the compromised skin of his fingers and palms.
We live in an age where safety has been dramatically misunderstood. I often think of the perfectly-titled 1995 art film Safe, where Julianne Moore plays a suburban housewife and mother named Carol White who becomes withdrawn into a hypochondriac’s world of allergies and sensitivities. In the film, Carol’s idyllic existence of exercise classes, lunches with the girls, and gardening is disrupted when a home renovation triggers the symptoms of a mystery disease. Carol suffers in isolation until she goes on an expensive retreat to Wrenwood, a community of other mystery sensitivity/allergy disease sufferers, and quickly becomes a devotee of the community’s charismatic leader. Meanwhile, her body wastes away and her family have no choice but to abandon hope that she will return to them.
There’s a meme that says “I don’t want to give up on anyone, but if you think you are going to be killed by fresh air, sunlight, and hugs, we might have to move forward without you.” I think those of us who did not lose our minds over the Plandemic got the memo about it being political/fake when hugging became a radical act. Safety is never guaranteed on the Meat Plane. That’s not how it works here. There are special bubbles where the privileged can retreat, and they can pretend all they want that they are protected while they stew in their own misery; safety is still only an illusion. The spoiler alert is that nobody gets out of this incarnation alive, and fear is no way to live.
I Know Things Now
The third card my Ogham give me in the much-anticipated Future position is Phagos or Teaching well-dignified. Phagos is symbolized both in the old Ogham and my new one as the Beech tree, a tree that loves liminal spaces like bogs and riversides and that can grow to staggering heights. The bark of the beech used to be made into paper, which is to my mind a further hint to its educational signature. In my Ogham, Phagos is a card of mastery of a mental plane concept or concepts well enough to teach it. For instance, I am a music theory expert. The litmus test of my mastery is my ability to hear a tune or a harmony or both and to be instantly able to put it into sheet music notation. Mastery is not confined to academic disciplines such as music theory: many people (not me) are masters at reading the emotional subtexts of other people. One can also be a master in a negative, life-destroying way, for instance the narcissist who is a master at making others fearfully do her bidding.
For Phagos to apply to a collective is a fortunate omen. Well-dignified, it means that we are going to get over the aforementioned humps of misunderstanding and ignorance. The trend of the veil of bullcrap being lifted will continue and the masses will belatedly understand that the government did not have public health and well-being in mind when they decided to overreact big time to a seasonal flu with sketchy origins. For those outside certain salary class rogue states such as Britain and Canada, life is about to mostly return to the Old Normal. Panic-stirring is already being rehashed as the Delta Variant, just as Ivermectin and hydroxychloroquine are being vindicated by one half of the population and eagerly restricted by the powers who realize they’re about to lose profits because of their use. My Ogham say that the difference is that people are finally onto the grift. I know my group of 3300 members, Speakeasy Illinois, is full of Illinoisans with no intention of participating in future lockdowns. Any future bioweapon released by the Chinese government with US government assistance will have to kill far more than 1% to have any chance at success. If and when that happens, scaremongering propagandists will face the uphill battle of The Boy Who Cried Wolf. Those still listening to the propaganda will have to face the inevitable music of the MRNA vaccine’s side effects, which look to be building a small apocalypse that hints at being the next Thalidomide.
The Idea Virus
One of the main reasons I blog is because I have come to a limited understanding that ideas I put out there might act like viruses. My husband has put a few memes into circulation and though he's had no financial compensation for them, he has watched his ideas parroted by mainstream media and therefore come full circle back to their originator in him. I saw with veganism that a catchy phrase or a salient bit of logic easily defeated the opposing side whereas the wall of text and cited references to studies failed time and again to reach anyone outside the confines of Veganville. I have put the idea out there that masks are symbolic (like a Swastika to a Nazi) with no purpose outside of the astral plane in a couple of essays. I have mentioned that I believe masks are Satanic -- meaning they symbolize a specific form of demonic infestation of the Left and that their symbolism should be apparent to those who believe they worship God, especially those who belong to churches that enforce/enforced masking.
I garden not just for enjoyment but to inspire other people to garden, including guerrilla gardening and indoor gardening. These days more than ever, it is crucial to live by example and not just as a fan of the way you'd like to be. Phagos speaks of people picking up some of the old ways of appropriate tech. Our era is going to mirror the 1970s in fuel shortages and price spikes, so we might as well lean into other 70s tropes like growing enough tomatoes in one's yard to supply a small city, tinkerers tinkering with DIY off-grid power experiments and solar cookers, and neighbors who know each other by name and have a spare set of your keys just in case.
My Ogham seem to think that sanity will prevail. That’s the Ogham for you. They are much like a gentle parents. At any rate, my fingers are crossed that they are right.
The work in progress... I meant to do more plantings in the front. As I mentioned in my Spring Garden post, the boxwood experiment is over (they hate the front yard) unless they're in containers. My plans are to put more hardy perennials in the front that can take crappy conditions. The front garden you see here has got the worst soil in my entire yard.
"When you resist evil you lock up good. You lock up the force of good which holds the evil inert.
This serves no useful purpose, unless you have a superabundance of good which shall stand upon the platform thus formed and leap up from it to greater heights. Therefore it is not enough to meet hate with love - evil with good. This is the course of the ignorant and the reason why exoteric religion has made so little impression in the world. You must hate with hate sufficiently to cause a locking up of the force. You must hate the hate and, having rendered evil inert by opposition, the love can take its stand upon the firm platform and use it as a thrust-block. Therefore you only oppose evil when you wish to do constructive work - when you wish to make something new. You never oppose the evil when you wish to destroy.
You make a vacuum around it. You prevent opposition from touching it. Then, being unopposed, it is free to follow the law of its own nature, which is, to join the motion of the Ring-Chaos."
For those living in less than ideal circumstances, such as adults who live with their parents like my husband and I did for many, many years, the best defense is psychological strength. Conformity and its accompanying urges are the enemy. When living with my parents, I felt buffeted by messages of my own inferiority for doing so despite the fact I appreciated being there and knew I would always treasure the time I got to spend with them, which proved to be true.
Even now, I can feel the pressure to own my own washing machine every time I schlep linens and clothes to the laundromat. If I lived in a neighborhood without laundromats every few blocks, I would feel this pressure much more acutely as it would be obvious that conformity in the form of owning a washing machine is "easier" than the machine-less alternative. Not having one's own washing machine kind of sucks but it is better for the planet. In remembering that small bonus, I have learned to use my washing machine free status as a thrust block.
Living with one's parents is actually a great defensive position for both parent and adult child. There are solid reasons why most religions had extended families living under one roof as a common household arrangement. One could seek advice from both one's elders and God/the gods at the same time if everyone lived in one house. I miss living with my parents and will not mind if I am forced to do so again. Plus they have a washing machine...
Masks continue to dominate the feeble minds of the fearmongers who perpetuated the Panicdemic. Their use as a talisman to ward off the forces conspiring to devour the Professional Managerial Class’s comfortable way of life is ongoing, despite the Fauci emails and the glaring examples of Florida, South Dakota, and Sweden. Like their disgraced furor Fauci, Coronatarians never knew enough about their own subconscious processes (despite untold dollars spent to sit on the psychotherapist’s couch and profligate use of her expensive facial tissues) to realize why they forced several generations of now-permanently damaged young people to wear a scrap of dirty maxipad on the face for a year and a half. As Fauci admitted in one of his flip-flops, masks never had any efficacy in preventing disease.
Masks as Misanthropy
What the mask’s vestigial, increasingly irrelevant promoters refuse to admit is that the mask is about the opposite of loving and caring for others. Wearing a mask is an expression of misanthropy: the mask is a symbol to indicate the wearer hates others and that they couldn’t care less about their welfare. Those who are forced into wearing masks, for instance, the many people with social anxiety who face nervous breakdowns if they are confronted by friends and strangers, are potentially forced to lie. They may not hate others, but because of tremendous pressure, they are coerced into joining the Hate Club whether they like it or not. Misery loves company.Some of the karma for masking and vaxxing is instant. In my state of Illinois, the state’s Tyrant in Chief has gotten himself backed into a corner. When groups like my Speakeasy Illinois quietly went around the mandates by solely patronizing patriotic, freedom-loving stores and establishments, the big woke retailers found themselves fighting for a shrinking customer pool in a bad economic recession. Presto change-o, suddenly the mask mandate expired and if you showed your vaccination card, you could suddenly shop at all the places almost like it was 2019. Little did the woke retailers realize that many of us would never walk into their stores again, as we did not wish to engage in any forms of Stockholm Syndrome style lovemaking with our abusers. There was also the problem of filtering each person at the woke retailer’s front door for their vaccine card, which is a violation of his or her Constitutional rights as well as inconvenient and difficult. The karma for the wokesters is increasingly empty stores — any retail CEO interested in this phenomenon should plug in the terms Carson Pirie Scott, Venture, or Zayre into a search engine — and the rise of alternative markets that don’t invade their customer’s medical privacy. Maskers now find themselves in the position of the modern day Nazi and his swastika. Sure, he can wear the symbol, but it automatically marginalizes him as an extremist. If you have hatred in your heart, it’s probably not a good idea to wear it on your sleeve.
Broken Hearts
Speaking of hearts, myocarditis is a known side effect of getting the MRNA inoculation. I think the vaccine attacks their hearts because of their heartlessness when push came to shove during the peak of the Corona panic. Sadly, the worst myocarditis is afflicting teenage boys, which speaks of blood sacrifice and marks over doors that had the opposite effect than the one intended. The horrible part of bad karma is that it acts like a grenade. It’s messy and non-specific. How many Professional Managerial Class snobs sneered and wished death on people for shopping mask free in stores alongside the masked and fearful? Though correlation is not causation, there could be a connection with the subsequent visitation of the Death Angel upon the sons of the sinners.The death of the Christian Church is one of the scarier convulsions of the banquet of consequences. While Christian lions such as Artur Pawlowski are persecuted for doing what Jesus would do, fake Christians huddle fearfully and sparsely in their often virtual, always socially-distanced pews. As a religious person who believes in Jesus Christ but by no means exclusively worships him, I can think of no better way to anger a god than to supplant his worship with an egregore or worse, a demon. In 2020 and 2021, Christians clearly replaced the worship of Jesus with that of Coronachan. If one shall know them by their fruits, we have only to look at churches that are still forcing congregants to wear the Satanic symbol of the mask as well as the Mark of the Beast in the form of the vaccine. For two years straight on Christ’s birthday and resurrection days, Christians pretended their god mattered as they conveniently failed to take their religion back from a disease that kills fewer people than some seasonal flus.
Let Them Eat Bugs
Masks are a virtue signal that say "I've got mine, Jack!" meaning they signify the wearer as a person who believes it's OK for large corporations to benefit while the entire economy and the real people who need it crumbles. Masks are the symbol of the belief that communism in the form of eternal welfare checks can sustain a country. They are the sigil of those content to fiddle while Rome burns. Despite the baaing to the contrary of their wearers, masks are the ultimate way to say "I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU OR YOUR FAMILY, you deserve to starve, peasant!" Ultimately, the joke is on the one who thinks the hatred behind the mask is without blowback. Anyone who believes in the mask is subject to the karma of the mask, and it hardly matters if they understand the symbolism behind it.
Unless you are one of the lucky few, you have probably had to deal with a neighbor you didn’t get along with. I am not untouched by the bad neighbor experience. Sun Tzu gives us some help in learning how to battle a bad neighbor on both the large and the small scale in this chapter that may be of some use to those (like myself) currently embroiled in dealings with less-than-savory neighbor situations.
Sun Tzu the Good Neighbor
Right out of the gate, Sun Tzu says “preserving the enemy’s state-capital is best, destroying their state capital is second best.”
Sun Tzu wants everyone to get along. Though he doesn’t rule it out, he reminds us that it is vastly preferable not to obliterate our neighbor’s ability to thrive. Let’s say there is a family living in an average suburban house in an average suburban neighborhood called the Average Family. One day, a family of hoarders moves in next door. The hoarders are extremely well off (this is often the case with hoarders) and over the span of a few years, they cram their home with junk. Mr. and Mrs. Average could go ballistic on the hoarders, shunning them, shaming them, and generally abusing them, or they could go the high road and treat them as they would want to be treated: with kindness and compassion. Hoarding, after all, is a mental disorder and though those who hoard should not be enabled, bullying them serves little to no purpose except one’s own ego-gratification. If push truly comes to shove, for instance if the hoarders share common walls (and rats, roaches, and ants) with the average family’s duplex, the second option of attempting to destroy their capital comes into play. To destroy their capital, we could take any array of options from having them fined by the town, the association, or both, or we could employ natural magic against them in the form of hot foot powder. Sun Tzu’s preferred approach is to sweeten the relationship instead immediately going for the jugular.
There Goes the Neighborhood
Let’s say the hoarders move out… yay! The For Sale sign goes up and in a few months, there is a new neighbor moving in next door to the Average Family. Problem solved, right? Wrong! The family next door is now a bunch of drug dealers. Great.
Sun Tzu says that the highest realization of warfare is to attack the enemy’s plans, but how do you attack the enemy’s plans when they’re dealing drugs? Magic and prayer would be a good place to turn in this case, because the only way you are going to get in their way is with the help of the gods. One would think that doing magic to destroy them would be the order of the day, but actually you should take the opposite approach. Doing magic to strengthen your own morale and praying for your own ability to transcend your law-breaking neighbor is the best strategy for undermining their deleterious effects upon you and your surroundings. Fortifying your own “vibe” with the power of beings that are much, much smarter than you will get in the way of your drug dealing neighbor far better than any hexes or curses you can throw at them. Trust me on this one, as I have an uncanny natural talent for hexing and cursing that I wisely no longer use. You can also ask others to pray for your well being… give those nosy Christians something to do, but make sure you specify they are not to pray for your conversion to Christianity unless that’s what you want!
The next level of the realization of warfare is to attack the enemy’s alliances. “Alliances” in our case applies to the drug dealer’s clients, suppliers, and the municipality in which they are doing illegal business. If your neighbors are drug dealers, you will have to consider reporting them to the authorities. You will want to talk to your neighbors, who might also know what they are doing. You might consider hiring an investigator or looking into their criminal records. The City Council might be able to act on your behalf depending on the situation.
The next level of the realization of warfare is to attack their army. When you call the police on your bad neighbor’s loud party or leave a terse message on their voicemail, this is what you are doing. You aren’t attacking the head of the enemy: you are doing nothing to drive away the forces that keep the demand for drugs in full swing. You are merely throwing grenades at foot soldiers.
The lowest level of the realization of warfare is to attack their fortified cities. Now we are looking at the tactics of Antifa and BLM, the lowest of the low. You decide to torment your neighbor by marching around his house with a bunch of your own posse and a bullhorn. You purposefully draw the police to your protest so they may hear you whine about the injustice and unfairness they are allowing.
Sun Tzu always argues for subjugating the enemy without fighting whenever possible. As frustrating as “leave it to the gods” and “do self-encouraging magic” sounds, it really is the best and most effective strategy.
A Tale of Two Neighbors' Resources
Sun Tzu goes on to talk about resources and how they pertain to warfare. If you have ten times the drug dealer neighbor’s resources, you might be able to buy the house they are in and evict them. You could certainly afford to move if you don’t mind moving. At the very least, if you are not able to be kind and friendly to them, you can have a wall or fence erected between the two of you.
If you have five times their resources, you can consider getting legal on them. You might not be able to stop them from doing business, but you might be quietly able to make it difficult for them to proceed by reporting them to their internet service provider or slowing the flow of customers in and out of their door.
If you have double their resources, Sun Tzu suggest dividing your forces. You could acquire a pied-a-terre in another state so that you can take vacations during their annoying busy seasons. You might buy a nearby house and rent out the original residence to someone who doesn’t mind being next door to a drug dealer until the drug dealer leaves. You might send the kids to go live with their grandmother for a few weeks at a time.
If you are equal in strength, you can engage your enemy. You have every right to be there, after all, and they are breaking laws. Can doesn’t mean “should”. My thoughts are that you shouldn’t expect too much from the police these days, at least not in the US.
Finally, you can avoid your enemy if you are outmatched by them. This is what I have done in the case of my own bad neighbors when they were doing illegal things in their space. The Average Family might put up a large address plaque on their house to deter addicts and other dealers from mistakenly flocking to their door instead of the dealer's place. They would do well to plant trees and bushes on the border between the two houses, which will add a magical protective effect as well as a visual shield. Periodically sprinkling salt laced with hot pepper at the edge of their property will also keep their customers and colleagues from wandering in the direction of your house. Putting up a decorative mandala-like symbol somewhere near the door such as a hex sign confounds the negative energies of addiction that swirl around your bad neighbor and their clientele. The ultimate avoidance of the enemy, of course, is moving.
Sun Tzu says not to entangle the army if you don’t have to. Right now, if the Average Family decides to move its troops, they might end up getting soaked. We are in a massively inflated property bubble. If the Average Family sells high, they’ll only end up buying high somewhere else and in a few years, will end up under water in their mortgage or rent. So pick your battles carefully.
Sun Tzu also talks about generals who do not understand the army’s affairs yet tries to direct them like its own civil administration. The Average Family might think that they are owed law and order in their neighborhood because they are law-abiding citizens. They are naive. When you are dealing with a bad neighbor, are you looking at the general symptoms of decline in your geographical area and the larger landscape of your country? We are in a Long Descent where even the “good” neighborhoods are infested by crime. Many people can no longer make an honest living even if they want to. Drug dealing, prostitution, and homelessness is going to touch the Average Family because that is modern life. Not-In-My-Backyard or NIMBYism is harder to sustain with each passing year.
Know your enemy. Their goal is simple: Continue staying afloat by selling drugs. In the case of hoarders, it is to accumulate lots of stuff until they die, whereupon they will quickly realize they can’t take it with them. They aren't your friends, but they also aren't Josef Stalin.
More importantly, know yourself. Know your own weaknesses and don’t sink to the level of hating your neighbor. They may be parasites, but aren’t we all? Takes one to know one.
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timeasmymeasure
