posted July 13, 2003 04:29 PM         

In the final hours of doom
Deep in the abyss where he first fell
Alone in his ghastly, carven room
Sits the broken Lord of Hell.

Down that old and evil face
A path of lines both dark and deep
One single tear does seem to trace
As the lonely figure starts to weep.

posted July 20, 2003 11:42 AM         

Ironically, the Fallen One doesn't discover that he loves his son until after it's too late.

posted July 20, 2003 02:32 PM         

As for the Satan/evil question. Astrology has taught us all that evil is the other side of good, that there is no light without darkness. There is no Yin without Yang, no negative without positive there is no feminine without masculine. How would you know what one was without the other? Evil by its very nature is a term requiring contrast. It requires good to define it and good requires the same of evil.

I'm a pantheist so I don't have a Satan in my belief system. A BRIEF investigation into Tarot has led me to believe that Satan is man's instinctive, animal nature. I believe that Satan is the directives of the physical, material brain in opposition to the electrical, spiritual, ethereal brain which is the God in man. In fact, astrology teaches us to SHOUT AT THE DEVIL! Say "NO!" so that your piece of God has a chance to shine. Suppress your personality flaws and your talents shine through. And there IS LOVE in evil. It's just that sometimes, you've got a Leo Sun with your Ascendant and all of the other planets in Capricorn and Scorpio.

posted July 21, 2003 12:22 AM         

The idea is the same:

The acts of the human race are like a field of plants, some of them wildflowers("good"), some of them weeds("evil"). The little evil ones you speak of are not evil ones at all, but the planters of weeds, longing to have their seedlings noticed as are the wildflowers, longing to be appreciated, perhaps hoping that their weeds will take over the field or perhaps longing only for their weeds to BE. There are gardeners who would plant weeds and those who would plant flowers.

There are those gardeners who would have the field filled with wildflowers, free of weeds. They fear that the weeds will choke off the wildflowers and that eventually all of the "good" gardeners will leave for fear that the wildflowers which they plant will be choked to death amongst the myriad weeds which they find to be ugly and despiccable. How foolish and pompous they are...please DO leave "good" gardeners...go...the city calls you with it's neatly laid landscapes and its cunningly arranged windowboxes. Leave that you may plant your wildflowers amongst their kind, leaving the onlooker to muse..."MY...aren't these a lot of pretty flowers that have been planted here?" rather than to appreciate your work in its modest beauty. Leave this field pompous gardeners, for it's beauties do not appeal to you and its weeds are but ugliness to you. Go plant your Central Parks and your fragrant bouquets where they will be lost amongst the beauties also planted by the many gardeners there. Begone! We do not NEED your flowers here. This field has no use for you who would see only the ugliness of ugliness and not its beauty as well. You are snobs who would surround yourselves with beauty to the point that even beauty would become mundane and everyday. Surrounded by ugliness, you consistently fail to realize that it is this UGLINESS which makes beauty possible, for if we lived in your ideal world of tra-la-las and fairy flowers there could be no appreciation for the flowers you plant, for they TOO would be normal, and the ugliest amongst them, no matter how beautiful, would be counted as a weed amongst its more attractive wildflower kin. You would live in perpetual day in order to spare your genteel senses the cold ugliness of the nights. Fools! How many wildflowers long for the cool dew that only night can bring! Make haste! Your beautiful wildflower Utopia awaits you like a monument to all that is foolish and unholy, like Yin without Yang your dream awaits, like light without darkness, warmth without cold. You would walk in the direction that pleases you leaving behind all frames of reference. Follow your foolish ideal until it bores you stiff and leaves you no contrasts with which to appreciate beauty, only the very dissection of beauty itself into those minute imperfections which all but the most beautiful contain.

After you have left, here in the field, some of us will remain to tend to our small flowers, to care for and water them, caring not one whit should some water fall upon the weeds, or some fertilizer amongst the nettles. We will tend to the weeds and the flowers alike, knowing full well that it is ONLY because of the surrounding thistles and briars that even our least attractive offerings become treasures in this field which only the hardiest and rarest of naturalists will ever have the pleasure of knowing. We will treat our daily tending as a treasure hunt, searching for the flowers among the thorns and appreciating their fragrant aroma as a welcome break from the smell of weeds which surround them. Even, on occasion, appreciating the unique beauty of the weeds themselves.

Daf

posted July 21, 2003 03:09 PM         

I do not believe in another heaven. I am already there. This is heaven, eternally lying in the ground as an inanimate object is hell. The cycle is eternal and so my opportunities to come back to paradise are as infinite. I just have to wait my turn, play my part as an inanimate object, a prop in the show if you will and eventually, my turn will come up again. The pharoah wanted to be a god on earth. His body now lies in a museum in Great Britain. 3,000 years or more as an inanimate object. Put me in a hole in the ground, skip the embalming. I am so very grateful for the chance to just be typing here with you..really. I am dirt come to life! Thank you Lord!!!

posted July 21, 2003 04:03 PM         

The Friends' hearts beat as One. I will write to you soon.