Jesus emerges from Nowhere, Odysseus wanders, cast away by Poseiden, each a long journey into the unknown each descends into the underworld to obtain knowledge of the unseen both reclaim their home from transgressors Jesus throws out the moneychangers Odysseus, with his son, destroys the suitors who consume his substance, steal his world, both affirm the divine both were seduced with pleasures along the way (Jesus of the Dead Sea Scrolls kissed the priestess Mary Magdalene and had children with her) but ultimately resisted mere pleasure in the wake of a deeper longing for that which was true Neither was deterred each learned amidst the event of transfiguration both were men though the Jesus in Paul and perhaps John seems to be more akin to Apollo, Dionysus, Artemis, each gods and goddesses born of a transgression of the divine unto the mortal, these revelations of Zeus Mary and God, is she not akin to Leto? Who else would she be if she were not a goddess? Immaculate Conception! Is she not a goddess? Can we any longer be incarcerated in this prison of the trinity? Three male aspects of a male god How utterly boring! Must we not explode this makeshift so as to articulate a more appropriate meaning for existence - or, can we remain in the nameless? Must we learn all the names and images which set about us each day as taboo lore? Or, are all of these words and stories merely indicators of that which transcends all things and renders obsolete these images in a differing scenario I witness the event of the sacred, an intimate affirmation of the divine as I pray and live perhaps i am mad... or bewitched, turned into an animal amidst this simulacrum in which I am a traveller and learner - I seek the truth as I cannot deal with the truth as truth I stared at the sun but the light of the divine devastated me Nothingness - nothing I knew or loved would remain - these are only images, symbols in an allegorical journey designed, a vortex so as to initiate the disolution of his ego in a way which affirms this dissolution - consents and embraces the disintegration of this world - the fading disappearence of every memory, of every item which sets here there, but will eventually be picked up by the junk man sold in an estate sale some junk shop to a college student Where did you get this? I don't know, some junk shop? How many people have touched this? Whose was it? But, I am here now, and I couldn't care less about this chair and sofa! This Water-pick! There is something more going on here But we should be reticient in giving any too early answers and names - we are not Adam - we are not without shame - we cannot name in innocence amidst the event of existence names suggest themselves encounters are made amidst this gift of existence we gotta drop the pretense of Adam that all was made for him - all of this went out the window with the Fall We are neither the namegivers nor the center of the cosmos! but with empty hands we are open amidst this place of the nameless We must have the courage to be Why not?