Two sets of documentaries produced by Jacques Cousteau have been released on DVD. Cousteau Odyssey and Explorations in the Pacific. They take their place with Attenborough’s Living Planet, Sagan’s Cosmos, and Bronowski’s Ascent of Man as the ultimate in reality TV. I admit I have to admire the ad folks skill in packaging programs that are basically staged and convincing us that it’s “real.” But, hey there are centuries of precedent to draw from. After all, the oral and written traditions that came out of the Middle East have been packaged and sold to convince us that they contain the only “truth” about anything and everything.
At least the Hindus understand that there is one Truth with many faces and you worship the representation of God/dess that you are closest to. This doesn’t mean that Hinduism got it all right. Just this one piece of the puzzle. There’s still enough prejudice and discrimination to go around. Mix radical Hindus and radical Muslims, both pushing each other’s buttons with demonic precision, and the results can be and often are explosive. I really don’t know where some the radical Creationists got the idea that the Adversary has time to fake geological evidence supporting an ancient Cosmos. He’s got too many other fish to fry. To many shoulders to sit on whispering “be afraid, stay afraid, you’ll be safer that way.”
I hauled out Joseph Campbell’s Mythos this weekend. One statement from the series has always stuck with me. That Yahweh’s biggest mistake was believing that he was God. Not the best understanding of one group of people had of one face of God but IT, the ULTIMATE, the only GOD. And we’ve been sold this bill of goods ever since to keep the existing power structure in place.
The radical message of love, respect and the Oneness with the true God/dess was co-opted, caged, and made to serve the powers of this world. When you realize the power structures in the world Jesus was born into you understand just how radical the message he brought was. In a world of patronage, slavery and oppression he dared to say that chains could be broken. That the Creator/ress what everywhere, in everything and everyone. That spirits could soar and sing. It wasn’t a question of whether the newest prophet of the truth behind all the masks would be silenced, but how and when. It didn’t take long the clip the spirit’s wings; mute the song and tuck it safely back in its cage.
Funny thing about cages though. The wings grow back, the door gets pried open and every so often the spirit slips out and takes wing. No matter how many fingers the little Dutch boys from the Vatican, Mecca, the various synods and other power groups keep sticking in their cracking dikes; she soars and sings.
(This got written on a very early break at work. Sometimes the words just have to come out. As if I’ll break into a million pieces if they don’t aren’t released. And it has to be done NOW. If I wait the ideas will still be there, but the words won’t be the same. Pale reflections. So I’ll just take a short lunch and do a little off the clock.) J And oddly enough this is not where I expected to end up when I started this little number. God/dess you and I are going to have a little talk about when you decide to move the fingers. These was supposed to be a paragraph of notes, not an essay. But, then I guess my idea of time and Your idea of time is on a little different scale.