Tags
Aeschylus, Apollo, Cain, Cassandra, Death, Demiurge, Dionysus, Entropy, Hades, Hagia Sophia, Lilith, madness, Mythology, neurodivergence, neuroqueer, Persephone, Psychosis, Qabalah, Reality, Schizo, schizoaffective, schizoqueer, Thanatos
I am God! Did you know that? I can be any damned thing I want to be. Isn’t that what self-determination means?
From deep within the earth, a darkly subaudible chuckling arises. *You are all they’ve named you. You don’t even know what you want! How could you know why you want what you want? You don’t even want that.*
Details, details. Bataille has already sufficiently demonstrated that God hates itself. Created in its image, I am the same type of narcissist, creating to distract from the immensity of internal isolation.
I have reason to suspect that Persephone was not tricked into eating six pomegranate seeds in the Underworld, but rather made the executive decision to do so in order to gain power over the dimension of Death. Sometimes, Death just takes you. It would be a mistake, a lost opportunity, not to go with it at least halfway. To do so cyclically is best of all.
A variant of the Orpheus myth states that Orpheus was unable to sway Hades with his song. It was Persephone who relented, and she who convinced the icy grip of Death to release the soul of Eurydice. To be Rebirth is to love the Annihilation that necessarily precedes you, to love your time beneath the earth as much as your time above it, to be able to caress the terror of Oblivion so softly that it yields to your demands. To be so much Life that you find yourself inadvertently copulating with Death. I do not think that Persephone hates her union with Unlife or her time in the Underworld. She chose them upon realizing that she had the power to exist in a dimension outside of the accepted Reality of Godhood. At least, that’s what the Persephone in my head did.
Cassandra, daughter of fallen Ilium, sealed her fate by becoming a priestess of Apollo. What she promised to the Lord of the Sun was progeny: productivity, tangible results, positive action and a lasting monument. Whatever that meant to Cassandra, she was unable to comply. It is written that Apollo cursed her with madness for denying him. She could not perform according to her own spiritual standards? Sins! Filthy, wretched Sin, to deny the child of a God. And so it is written that she was cursed with madness. Cassandra’s in-sanity is the condition of her divine failure, not externally imposed beyond the initial impossible task of bearing the child of a God. Her “brain ablaze with fever”, “possessed of God, mazed at heart” (Aeschylus, Agamemnon), Cassandra succumbs to the self-imposed limits of a priestess who cannot perform miracles. “I promised [children] to Loxias, but I broke my word […] for this trespass, none believed me ever again”. High ambitions? The desire to improve, create, re-create, pro-create, alter, mutate, permutate, splice, meld, forge, absolve, redeem, etc. etc.? You had best not fail. The repercussions resound as the curse of a scorned God. Hell hath no fury like the mind of God turned on itself, informed by the wrath of a society of Gods.
If Cassandra could have survived the war, she would have been well-off to become the priestess of Dionysus. The only domain beyond that of Death that still welcomes Madness is that of the innebriate dancing-God.
Sophia, Chohkma, Divine Knowledge, a seeming of an emanation, wished to create something outside of herself and outside of God. Thus the Demiurge, and the creation of the Earth. And thus with Lilith, the first wife of Adam, who rebelled and bore the first murderer to the Angel of Death. Sophia’s sin was the cause of the creation of the entirety of existence, the differentiation of Subject and Object. Wisdom, or Reason, if you prefer, the great un-knowing, the ordering of concepts; these, the constituents of reality, can never live up to lived experience, or to thought. It is impossible to rationalize thought as a thing-in-itself; indeed, an thing-in-itself cannot be rationalized in immanence, as transcendence cannot be explained or realized without reference to the immanent. Sinning as Sophia, one differentiates between objects; as Lilith, one mothers abominations. Which is the truer Sin? Ab-[h]om{e}n-ation: a bad omen, inhumanity. Is it worse to create everything—the sign of the Evil to come? –than to become the repressed consciousness of God, the Beast? 666 is Man is Sunlight is The Beast—how could Sin even Be?
Fear the Foreign Witch. Fear the Daemon in your Spirit. Fear the Moon; Fear the absence of the Sun. Fear the Mad, for they have failed. Fear the Death, for Rebirth is Pain; Fear Pain, for the nervous response decrees it. I exhort you: love your Fear. Embrace your Fear, Become it; to do so is to take the persuasion of Death into your own hands.
I am all that I have named myself. I am ALL that I have NAMED MYSELF.