The Burninators Club


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Originally uploaded by fit of pique.

I forgot to mention, when I was burning my stuff and setting off fireworks I made this prototype for my take on the fireworks classic The Burning Schoolhouse and made the Burning Psych Ward. It’s just a box with paper, some windows glued on and an open door, and where the Chimney is there’s a fountain firework. But it didn’t burn the way I was hoping it would, it just burned the roof off. I think I will use firecrackers next time and a secondary fountain or flare.

I’m trying to find healthy/creative ways to let out my darkside in a way that doesn’t hurt anyone. I’m toying with the idea of ethical pyromania, where things are made just to burn and in a safe way. I would call it The Burninators Club and it would meet once a month in a secluded location. There are a lot of ceremonies set up by societies to burn things in nice ways, not like book burning or burning at the stake kind of crap. Look at Burning Man. Anyway, yes, that’s one of my ideas for being ethically dark. I don’t really see darkness as a bad force, if it’s not attacking other people or animals. I think there is such a thing as benign darkness, or neutral darkness. That probably sounds really weird. I guess what I mean is that things can be balanced, and in trying to be a decent person you don’t have to try to divide yourself up to behave kindly.

Biohazard Neck


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Originally uploaded by fit of pique.

This is my biohazard tattoo. I was fascinated by this idea of human bodies being forced to be seen as always potentially contagious. And I think having a pathological label also made me want to embrace this idea of having a dangerous body. So I got it tattooed on the back of my neck. I have to get it redone though. You can kind of see my Lamictal rash in this picture actually.

I have a strange relationship to my neck. When I was a little kid I had a really hard time with having my neck be vulnerable, I would freak out if it was exposed. And then I also have a really particular birthmark on my neck, a small dark oval. I used to think I was a victim of Jack the Ripper and got my throat cut, but that didn’t really jive with the rest of it, like why it’s an oval instead of a line. And since childhood, I’ve also had some very vivid memories of living in the second world war in Germany. I remember running from the Nazis, I remember hiding in a lot of places, I clearly remember standing by the windows during a bombing raid and feeling helpless. And if I hear air raid sirens, I freak the hell out. Oh man, do not like hearing those. I’ve never liked them, ever since I can remember.

Anyway, I found out that Nazi’s commonly killed people by shooting them in the neck.

So was that my last life?? Probably, but it’s mostly obscure, except I do know more than I should about that era, I mean, more than what I’ve read about.

But back to my neck, it’s also my favorite spot in the world to be touched, except I don’t let anyone touch me there. Except for one person. It’s a funny thing. And I have a vampire fetish like you wouldn’t believe, so I have no idea if that has to do with it. But I always liked vampires in the sexy way. Not in the rampaging Lost Boys way.

I thought I told you to stay off the boardwalk.

Once when I was a kid my babysitter and I made rice krispie squares and recited the entire Lost Boys screenplay word for word from beginning to end. I used to be able to do that with a lot of movies, memorize them in total. I probably still could.

Healing

This healing process I’m in is going a lot more rapidly than I had expected. My bloggy nature sometimes makes me want to write about it here, but for various reasons I’ve decided not to, partly to do with personal safety issues and partly to do with thinking about some advanced concepts that I don’t think most people would understand even if I took days and days to tell it. So rather than try to distill some of these thoughts into the form of a blog post, I’m just working it through with select people.

I’ve also discovered that I’m forming closer friendships and relationships with people who have known me the longest, people who knew me before I was an adult and more adept at hiding myself. I have one best friend who’s known me since I was three, one best friend who knew me in high school and someone else who knew me then too, and I’m going for coffee with a woman I knew when I was thirteen who helped me figure some stuff out about myself during a VERY difficult lesson for at least three people. Also, of course, I’m spending time with my family again, which, although it has some rough and rocky patches, is actually turning out to be really good for me. Spending time with my sister again is probably one of the better reasons to live here, since she’s non-verbal and we can’t use the telephone together. She’s somewhat telepathic, but it’s subtle and easy to miss if I’m not around her on a regular basis.

The worker at her home once said “I don’t know why people think these people don’t talk, they’re talking all the time!” It’s true. I’m excited about her Snoezelen room, man, everyone should have a snoezelen room! I want one! Actually, I’m trying to figure out cheaper ways of having/making sensory objects and so on, because the official snoezelen stuff is ridiculously expensive. So if anyone has any tips on DIY Snoezelen feel free to leave a comment.

Mostly though, I think I’ve undone this gordian knot of being stuck in some shitty things that happened to me. I was really worried I would end up carrying it forever, but I’d rather send it back to where it came from. Bleh, who wants to feel psychic restraints for the rest of their life? Nobody.

I’m also looking at mandalas a lot. They’re very healing, I can’t articulate why, they just are. I’ve also realized all of my tattoos are mandalas!! I was shocked, hey!!! What the hell? When Carl Jung had his psychotic episode he had a particular mandala which formed the cornerstone of his life’s work. And I had one too when I went psychotic, but it’s pretty intense, I don’t feel like writing about it here. Maybe some other time. It’s actually from a photograph I had, but I don’t even know if I still have that photo. I still have a drawing of it though, one thing which escaped being burnt. I drew it over and over and over and it’s not until now that I figured out what it means. Unusual! I think I’m going to start drawing them for therapy reasons.

“… Only gradually did I discover what the mandala really is: ‘Formation, Transformation, Eternal Mind’s eternal creation’ (Faust, II). And that is the self, the wholeness of the personality, which if all goes well is harmonious, but which cannot tolerate self-deceptions.” C. G. Jung

American Fascism

I read that Mayan priests are going to be cleansing a site that Bush is visiting, AFTER he leaves. They say not cleansing it of the evil spirits associated with Bush would be disrespectful to their ancestors. I’ve often wondered what spiritual people are doing about this issue.

And now the Iraq exit strategy is to invade Iran. Oh fucking hell. As if not enough trouble was caused. Karl Rove is now saying that Bush’s legacy is Preemptive warfare, and that he sees all future Presidents following this ideology. Help us now!

Yes, the world considers America to be the 4th Reich okay? Let’s just get that out of the way right now. It’s a fascist police state, and if you don’t believe me here’s a link to an AWESOME breakdown of Fascist governments and the corresponding news stories from the States. In fact, at one job I had David Suzuki came to speak and told us in 20 years Bush will be on trial for war crimes. It’s true it’s true. Why did it have to come to this? I don’t know. I saw this all coming way way back when the towers fell and I remembered the Reichstag. LOTS of people did, I wasn’t the only one, at all.

Real World Update

My sister is more well off than me, temporarily anyway. She has $1000 to spend and we have to do it before social services decides that disabled people are living in the lap of luxury. So she’s taking me to Cirque De Soleil. Or rather, Cirque de Petit Soleil, since it’s an offshoot. I’m kidding, I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s the touring show from them. And we’re trying to help her get her group home’s Snoezelen room together. I keep telling her I’m going to drop E and spend all my time in her Snoezelen room. We were talking with her worker about siblings of the disabled eventually becoming the guardians when our parents die, and it was so funny, I said “I know, I might be her parent one day” and she just shot me this nasty look like “Oh, I don’t think so little sister, don’t insult me!” I had better find a better name for looking out for her AND being her little sister.

I’ve decided I don’t have enough money to go to Burning Man this year, sad!!! 🙁 Oh well. Next year maybe.

My iPod is being a jerk, I have to troubleshoot it because it’s not holding a charge properly. And I need my iPod!!!

I had a terrible dream the other night that the War started, I was walking in the street and suddenly a guy came running past saying The War is here! And we were all running and suddenly there were tanks everywhere and I had to keep hitting the ground to avoid being shot. And I remember so clearly waiting for bullets to rip through me, but none ever did. I ended up at my friend Preston’s, describing the war to him (he’s blind) while I looked out the windows. And then they attacked his fridge (??) and I said “Preston, they’re attacking your fridge” and he ran after them and was like “Stop attacking my fridge!”

Life’s okay. I’m doing well, my sleep has gone to a nice 6.5 hours a night, which is pretty good. I’m really giggly, but not crazy. Maybe I’m just supposed to be giggly. No, actually that’s not true, I’m only giggly around a certain person who makes me feel happy.

Invasion of the Penis Snatchers

I have a tendency to pick up whiffs of thought here and there and then eventually put it all together. A while ago I found out that the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) originated as a more obviously malicious book known as the Malleus Maleficarum, or Hammer of Witchcraft. This horrid piece of Inquisition literature was used principly to destroy european indigenous religions, Druids, Witches, etc, by describing what to look for in witch hunting. The Christian Church was using Jesus’ teachings to enact a deadly system of colonialist control over the population, and religions which didn’t depend on an intermediary between the divine and the practictioner were seen as dangerous to this need for total control. In fact one other reason was because pagan cultures practiced the democratic election of leaders rather than choosing leaders by birthright (ie The Monarchy). And you can’t exert total control by saying God told me to do this if your population has their own experience with communicating with divine forces and can tell you that’s bunk.

Incidentally the word “faggot” as a derogatory term for gay men comes from this era as well, because homosexuals were used to stoke the fires used to burn pagan practitioners.

Apparently the origins of the Inquisition were men becoming convinced that women were stealing their penises (women who were Witches of course). You can parallel this with Freud’s later development of Penis Envy, which probably comes from the same paranoia and thus perversion of female power.

Side Note: This is a Tibetan sand Mandala being made:

But we don’t have burnings at the stake anymore. Now we have four and five point restraints, and chemical lobotomies. MUCH cleaner and yet equally destructive.

I had been reminded of this when I was reading about Spiritual Emergencies and how they relate to psychiatric designations as Manic Psychosis and Schizophrenic breaks. I had read When The Dream Becomes Real a couple of years ago, but even though it’s a solid piece of scholarly writing, I still was too brainwashed to be able to accept or understand it. I’ve read it again and I have to say, it does a really good job of describing the rise of Pathology labels in terms of colonialist control.

In Celtic Ireland, there was no specific pathology for persons in schizophrenic states. A guardian would take responsibility for anything they did, but there weren’t derogatory labels for someone in a state of psychosis. They were touched by god, or taken by god. And in fact the Irish lived by the principle that “the rights of the insane take precedence over any other rights.” That is VERY different than today, where the rights of anyone else take precedence over the rights of the insane, even if someone else is asserting their right by destroying the brain tissue of the insane via meds, lobotomies, or ECT. Carl Jung in fact had a concept of schizophrenic breaks as a state of self healing, and Loren Mosher’s Soteria project bore this out, along with John Weir Perry’s Diabasis and R.D. Laing’s Kingsley Hall. However that idea has been generally disregarded in favour of capitalist pharmaceuticals originating from nazi experimentation, while another of Jung’s ideas were developed into the Myers Briggs Type Indicator which many people follow wholeheartedly. Kind of like Christians harping on the Ten Commandments and disregarding the fact that Jesus included two more commandments which are even more important than the originals.

Side note: This is an animation of a Mandala:

Colonialism in the guise of Christianity did some hideous things to the European pagan traditions, like turning the Horned God of fertility into Lucifer, who was originally just a knock a bout fallen angel in the Bible. It was also a lazy way of explaining evil in the world. The major Christian holidays, Christmas and Easter, correspond to previous pagan holidays based on lunar cycles. It was the saddest case of appropriation ever. And yet strangely, in it’s own way, still adheres to the original Pagan religious structure. Christianity all over the world is adapted by and for different cultures actually, which is why in central America the Virgin Mary is the big religious figure and why the Sacred Heart of Jesus is everywhere. Also Latin American Christianity has some of the most awe inspiring churches and cathedrals because the people who lived there responded to sensual opulance more than in other places. The African religion of Voodoo survived by substituting saints in the place of other spirits.

Sometimes I look at the world and just shake my head. I don’t know why religions have to fight each other all the time, especially since I enjoy aspects of nearly every religion. Mostly though I think it’s ridiculous for everyone to fight over religion since at it’s most basic essence it’s using the same types of universal energies for the same communal spirit. Mantras, prayers, magic, medicine, it’s really all the same thing. BUT I don’t think we should all have to practice spiritual beliefs in the same way, because that would be boring and people would feel like they didn’t fit in, imagine a Voodoo priestess trying to sit through an Anglican sermon, or a Catholic trying to deal with being in a hot dark sweatlodge. Not that interfaith occurances don’t happen, but MAKING someone worship in a certain way, aaahh! Nooo, don’t do it. That’s how we get places like Residential Schools and pedophile nuns, ugh.

And yet psychiatry is still the number 1 place people turn to when someone starts talking about God more than they did before or acting otherwise peculiar. Logically one would turn to a religious or spiritual figure in the community, but no. Instead we go directly to the transubstantiated Inquisitors who are only too willing to “help” someone become part of the colonized body politic again.

This is an animation following the rules of Chaos Mathematics.

The irony, of course, is that now more than any other time people need to watch the Self and Ego breakdown, and this means record numbers of people are having psychotic/schizophrenic states. But I don’t feel like being ashamed of mine anymore. I sorted some awesome stuff out for myself in it, and I think I’m a stronger person now (especially now that I’m off the drugs). I don’t think I’ll ever have to go back to that state, because I think I managed to absorb the important bits before I got Blanche Dubois’d.

Graduate student in clinical psychology:

“Dr. Laing, I still don’t understand the theoretical basis of your therapeutic approach to schizophrenia. Could you please explain it?”

R.D. Laing:

“Certainly. The basis is love. I don’t see how you or I can be of any help to our clients in a visionary state unless we are capable of experiencing a feeling of love for them. Therapy, as opposed to mere treatment, requires that we have a capacity for loving-kindness and compassion.”

Graduate student (perplexed):

“But Dr. Laing, what is your clinical methodology for developing this approach?”

– Overheard at a talk given by R.D.Laing in New York (When the Dream Becomes Real)

This is a video of quark and subatomic particles moving according to Chaos theory. By the way, Mandalas figure prominently in psychotic episodes.

Names

I was talking with my mom last night about finally deciding to get a Name. I forget why, but she basically asked why I even wanted one and I got all frustrated and said “Everyone else has a Name!!!” I mean an Indian Name. My late cousin Christopher’s name was Snowdrift. Laurel told me that a long time ago you could go to any medicine person and they would all give you the same name. Now you can get different names from different people, and none of them will match. Kind of like Ab Fab, Patsy Stone’s full name is really Eurydice Colette Clytemnestra Dido Bathsheba Rabelais Patricia Cocteau Stone. So many names!!!

I currently have three, the usual number, first middle and last. Thirza is from Thirza Jones, who is a filmmaker incidentally and one of my mom’s friends. Jean is from Jean Goodwill, an Aunt of my mom’s who was one of the first Indian women to get a university education and went into nursing. And Cuthand is from my Grampa. But I did have a boys name, which was never used. If I’d been born male I would have been called Sarain.

Sarain, for those who don’t know, was an influential Aboriginal artist who also played matchmaker with my mum and dad. His father was stationed in Italy during the war, and met his mom over there. Then Sarain moved to Canada to learn more about his roots. He set up my mom and dad and then when he was in Mexico died tragically in an undertow in the Gulf. Just after he died, my mom got a letter from him where he mentioned going to see a fortune teller who had a little monkey who pulled out cards, and the card it pulled out was Death. Oh man! Mum’s friend had to call Sarain’s mom in Italy and tell her her son had died, not being able to speak any Italian either! Anyway, I think he suppressed the story of his Venetian past to avoid being called a pretend Indian or something like Grey Owl, which he wasn’t, he just had an Italian background as well. No, Pierce Brosnan will not be playing Sarain. My dad once showed me some of his drawings which clearly depict the back of the boats used in the canals of Venice. In fact, I just found a rather cute article with my dad in his youth and Sarain.

So I have thought seriously about taking on this boy name which would have been mine as well as my usual name. I have no idea what that would look like, besides having a longer name. I don’t know if sometimes I would go by Sarain or not.

And I still want my Cree name, because I would ordinarily have gotten a new name after reaching some level of adulthood. But it’ll probably be a name only a few people know, generally we don’t run around calling ourselves by our Cree names, it’s kind of special, although some do. Maybe we’ve just been colonized into humility and shame! Oh no!! Really though, a lot of stuff about my culture I simply don’t tell people as kind of a protection mechanism.

Ugh, my last job I worked with some white guy who thought Indian names were stupid, I nearly choked him. And the boss wouldn’t tell him to knock of the racist shit. No wonder I was so miserable.