Must Be a Slow News Day for Mad Makow

James Rich, Beside Herself, acrylic on canvas

This is so old school Women's Studies 101; Henry Makow ("Mad" Makow I call him) has reposted his paranoid rant from 2001: savethemales.ca - "Vagina Monologues" - Porn Play Debased Women. Makow is, as always, hyperbolic in his infinite campaign against feminism, gays, the Illuminati/Satanists, and Jews. They're all in it together, don't you know.

One of Makow's many surrealistic opinions on what women are really about is that once feminists discover the truth about the evil agenda that lives within, these women are doomed. Doomed! Because all that's left for these women is to become gay:

"The Vagina Monologues" presents a sad picture of life at the dead-end of feminism. It is an anguished cry for male love by a generation of women deceived by feminism, who now have no choice but to become lesbians.

Something about the play has Makow worked up, for he uses the word "steamy" twice in his denouncement:

the play provides a steamy experience of sexual intimacy.

"The Vagina Monologues" quickly becomes a steamy chronicle of lesbian sex 

Parsing the twilight language in Makow's writing is always fun; I'm sure his use of the word "flavor" in the following is inadvertent but it made me laugh:

Forgive me for what follows but I am trying to convey the pornographic flavor of this so-called play.

Makow writes that "fixation" on one's genitals is "pure homosexuality." I'm serious here, is anyone out there listening to this fool?  Sadly, and more to the point, frighteningly, the answer is yes. Of course Makow's a clown, but what's scary is that there are plenty of both men and women who follow his misogynistic philosophies and those people are very serious. Furthermore, his biggest fan seems to be Jeff Rense, who happily posts links to Makow's current articles on a regular basis.

I wondered how long it would take Makow to get into the world domination by evil feminist-Jew-lesbians via their Illuminati ways shtick. No matter what the topic of his rants are -- it could be recipes for jello salad or whatever -- he brings it all around to the insidious plots to rule teh wolrd by lesbian-jew-feminists.
Even though the subject of Makow's current piece is The Vagina Monologues, he goes from theater critic to paranoid goof ball. Well, he was a paranoid goof ball to begin with, but anyway. He segues into a brief section titled Illuminati Brainwashing, where he once again equates self-empowerment and being educated about one's body to having a "hatred of hetrosexuality." Next section: Agitprop, where Makow discusses the "tactics" used by Communists, which, don't ya know, are also used by the evil pinko-jew-lesbian-feminist cabal:

We must face the fact that feminism is a homosexual movement in deadly competition with heterosexuality. It is part of a wider covert war aimed at subverting Western civilization and enslaving society.  

Mrs. June Cleaver (Barbara Billingsley) in her kitchen

As I mentioned earlier, the comments left on Makow's site are disturbing. Makow may be a fruitcake: old, stale, and moldy, left far too long on a crusty
contact-papered shelf in June Cleaver's kitchen, but I can't ignore the fact that there are those that take Makow seriously. One comment left by "Phil" puts the The Vagina Monologues in the same category as torture and war:

Dr. Makow – thanks for your expose of this popular pornographic play. It is a sign of a very sick culture that things like this are so easily accepted by society these days, along with torture as official policy, pre-emptive wars, and the slaughter of innocents.

I can't speak to the play itself as a play, since I've never seen the play, only having seen various scenes throughout the years. Something about the play always struck me as, while empowering and all that good stuff, as also kind of do-gooder upper middle class bourgeoisie tripe.  But regardless of if I've seen the play or not, it's clear Makow's issues with the play are with women taking control of their own bodies and educating themselves. Finding offense at basic sexuality is such a sad yet ridiculous response to have in these times, (any times) and then equating that with the downfall of society while ignoring the real stuff -- you know, like the world literally cracking open --  is truly bizarro. So, in that context, one question among many questions, is why does Jeff Rense insist on promoting Henry Makow?

1961 One Step Beyond on The Sacred Mushroom

A clip from a 1961 episode of One Step Beyond on sacred mushrooms and ESP. Dr. Andrija Puharich, author of the book The Sacred Mushroom, appears, as well as others involved in related research at the time.

Healing Images?

As I was waiting for the eye doctor today, I entertained myself by looking at the walls. Typical of doctor’s offices (including chiropractors and acupuncturists) there were a few large, nicely framed and colorful posters on the walls of the usual specific body parts of that particular doctor's speciality. In this case, eyes. These posters, charts and images of the body -- or its parts -- are seen in offices everywhere. I realized for the first time however how strange they are.

Large images of diseased, broken, sick, damaged organs. Detailed time lines of the progression of diseases. Close-ups of infected appendages, or internal disasters. To the chronically curious, like myself, these images might be mildly interesting, but what purpose do they serve? I wondered why would any patient want to see these images, while they’re in a place where they’re either ill in some way, or else they wouldn't’ be there (unlike Eastern medicine, where it’s preventative, not after the fact) or, where you’re in for a check up, hoping all is well. Most of us are anxious to some degree when we go into a doctor’s office, whether it’s routine or something more involved. Being surrounded by images of illness, and being used to it as normal, sends messages to our psyches that all is not well, and all will not be well.

What we surround ourselves with says a lot about what happens to us on different levels. What we say to ourselves goes much deeper than the surface; we're sending messages to ourselves all the time, and our subconscious takes it all in. Like attracts like. It’s like telling someone not to think of a white elephant. As soon as you say that, you’re thinking of a white elephant.

Why not have images that show preventative things one can do for themselves, encouraging images, healing images?

True, there were nice, pretty, Impressionist type images here and there; it wasn’t all gory red and sick-yellow oozing eyeball close-ups surrounded in gray lettering that announced “Macular Degeneration” and “Diseases of the Eye.”

The point is, why have these things at all in places of care and healing? How different would our health, and our health care system be, if we realized the impact of our surroundings on our health?

My Utterly Completely Wondrous New Age OOBE

This is going to put my, er, "fans" right over the edge, and might even exasperate a few who otherwise think I'm fairly sane. But the truth is the truth so here we go.

I've been working a lot with various things, some of which I won't go into here, but a lot of meditation, focusing, along with crystal work and so on. Whenever I've done this, it seems to awaken other parts of myself.

The other night I had the most intense, involved, and vivid out of body experience I've ever had. Now, I've had these off and on all my life, and it happened a lot when I was a kid and until I was in my teens. After that, my astral traveling, or OOBEs, occurred only a few times a year, if that. And for the past several years, whenever I felt myself leaving my body, I'd panic, and "slam" back into myself, not getting anywhere at all.

When I start to leave the body, I hear roaring and rushing sounds, sometimes a train like sound, bells clanging, and, for lack of a better term, "angelic voices." Yes, I said it: angelic voices. Whatever.

All right. So last night, I wake up, because I had a sudden pain at the top of my head. I had somehow slammed my head into the metal headboard. I assumed that, in my sleep, I had moved upwards a bit and banged my head. But I found that I wasn't near enough the headboard, (with the pillows behind me and all) to have done that. The moment I had that realization, I started to leave my body, but the "pull" was from my feet this time. I heard that rushing roaring sound, the bells.

And then, I felt a massive pulling at my left foot. Someone was pulling -- hard! -- on my left foot! I had the distinct impression that "it" was saying "All right, you wn't go out that way, let's try this way." At first I was frightened: "What the hell?!" I thought, almost panicking (and feeling very silly for it) "Is there some incubus/demon/alien trying to get at me?" But as soon as I had that thought, I realized -- I knew, -- whatever it was pulling at me was both a part of me, and something outside of myself, and whatever "we" were, was benign. In fact, I suddenly knew, that it was healing me.

I had been working a lot on my left leg. For years I've had chronic -- often severe -- problems with my left foot and ankle. Some days I could barely walk. (The one surgeon I went to said the injuries were too old and nothing could be done.) I also fell a couple of years ago at work and hurt my knee, and that flares up a lot, causing a lot of pain. I can't bend at the knees, due both to just being out of shape and overweight, as well as the injuries. So I've been doing a lot of meditation on that area, a lot of work.

And this pulling from beyond was incredible, the "thing" or being or whatever it was, and I got a distinct sense of power and intelligence, a consciousness, was healing my foot and ankle.

Then things got really interesting.

I "took off" then, racing along, with all that roaring and rushing. I was being propelled rapidly through -- I don't know what it was through, the "grid," the "matrix," . . . Lots of lights and colors, and sounds. Aside from the roaring and bell sounds, I heard static and radio sounds, like someone moving a dial on the radio very fast, trying to settle on a station. It did settle on a "station" -- the song was a 1950s style "Do Wop" song, except it wasn't any real song out there. Think of a movie; and the soundtrack created just for that movie, a recreation. It was like that. There was something funny about the song, and I remember laughing. Then, whoosh, off again and the music started changing, (sometimes there'd be snippets of voices speaking) and some classical music, then beautiful signing, female voices, then the "angelic" voices.

Things started to slow down a little but not much. We "flew" close to some large rocks on the beach; it was misty and vague. I could barely make out the ocean, but I had the sense it (whatever "it" is, or was) was showing me my future home. Or it had something to do with that. (this wouldn't be any great mystery, given that I plan on moving there, I just don't know when.)

During this entire experience the colors were amazing. Everything was astounding. Three things about this are so important: For the first time in a long time, in years, I was able to leave my body without fear and slamming back in, the intensity of the colors and sounds was unlike anything I've experienced (and the images; first time I saw some specific images, no matter how brief, form and unfold) and the length of time, were like no other experience, and the healing of my foot and leg was new, and a true gift.

I don't know what all of this was about, but it was incredible. And I'm very thankful.

image source: public domain, NASA

Herbal Whirled

Followed a visitor to Trickster Northwest and found her blog: Herbal Whirled. This is more than your typical blog; there's a forum, recipes, and all kinds of things.

Image source:
http://pdphoto.org/index.php