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Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Artist MIchele Witchipoo: The Three of Swords


The Three of Swords, by Michele Witchipoo

Michele Witchipoo is an artist; comic books, creator of Psycho Bunny,
and more. She recently shared her version of The Three of Swords, minor arcana Tarot. I like it; if there's a deck coming from Witchipoo, I'm going to order it!

Visit her site; she has lots of artwork and you can order Psycho Bunny, among others, as well as commission art work.




Sunday, October 16, 2011

School principal bans Fall holidays because they are 'insensitive' | Mail Online


School principal bans Fall holidays because they are 'insensitive'

Thanksgiving, Columbus Day, Halloween banned in a Massachusetts elementary school:
She had already told staff not to let the kids dress up for Halloween, according to the Boston Herald.

Superintendent Tony Pierantozzi told The Herald that Halloween is 'problematic' because of connections to witchcraft.
No mention of Christmas, but, being contrary here, I have to ask: what about Christmas being "problematic" because of its "connections" to Christianity/Catholics/the Vatican?

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Outsider/Folk Art: Patroness of Fallen Women


About fifteen years ago, there was a local woman who sold religious folk art/outsider art items at her booth at the Saturday Market. Saturday Market is a long running street fair in Eugene (since 1970),  full of booths of hand made items, as well as food booths and lots of music.

I bought several things from her at the time and did a paper on her when I was studying folklore at the University of Oregon.

This is a beaded necklace, with a wood pendant. On the front is an image of St. Maria Magdalene. On the back is a little label: "St. Maria Magdalene Patroness of Fallen Women." This is what Books of the Times site has to say about St. Maria Magdalene:
There is a breathtaking moment in the Gospel of Philip, one of the Gnostic gospels, which were denounced by the church as heresy. The apostles witness Jesus kissing Mary Magdalene on the mouth. The apostles are horrified, jealous. ''Why do you love her more than us?'' they ask. Jesus' response is mysterious and enigmatic. ''Why do I not love you like her?'' he says.
What is the meaning of those kisses? Sexual passion? A profound friendship? Jesus anointing Mary Magdalene as his successor and as leader of the church?
Traditionally, Mary Magdalene has been seen as a reformed harlot, portrayed in paintings as red haired and bare breasted. But as Karen L. King, the Winn professor of ecclesiastical history at Harvard University, in the Divinity School, points out in her new book, ''The Gospel of Mary of Magdala: Jesus and the First Woman Apostle,'' nowhere does the Bible say that she was a prostitute.


I know I have that paper, with photos, around here somewhere. I also have other items that I hope to take snaps of and post. I think the woman -- a very colorful person! -- called herself "Sister Spirit" and I want to say "bear" was in there somewhere, but it's been many years and I don't remember.

She sold jewelry with decorated images of the saints and the BVM as well as Jesus. She was known for her Jesus nightlights: religious plastic nightlights of Jesus and Mary, (the kind you can buy at dime stores; I've even seen them at Dollar Store type places) painted, often with neon colors, and decorated with beads, glitter, feathers .

I haven't been to the Saturday Market for a couple of years; but when I have gone there, I didn't notice her around. I think she left the area some time ago, or at least, stopped making her wonderful folk art.

(cross posted on UFO Mary.)








Tuesday, August 30, 2011

New Traditions, Day of the Dead, Pastor Mike Wants YOU!

A couple new entries at my blog UFO Mary: atheism, Pastor Mike's campaign to put atheists on a National Registry, altars, Day of the Dead, traditions, ...

Thursday, June 23, 2011

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?

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Found Poem: 'It's OK to be a woman'

“It’s OK to be a woman!”
found poem, by Regan Lee, April 2011
inspired by the ravings of Henry Makow’s It’s OK to be a woman: April 1st, 2008


















It's OK to be a woman!
pretty daffodils poking their heads
above matted leaves,
alone
strike me as confused.

You have been betrayed by society.
poison for women.
the things you most need
courtship and marriage.

No more dates.
No more flowers, dinners, dances
and movies.

behavior modification

Watch this video.

dynamiting the four legs of our human identity

You are in the Springtime of your life.
you are
at the height
of your fertility

we can't get a raincheck from nature.

Consecrate yourself
Don't waste your time
on boys
or
nomads.

Let the sluts
have the sex.
sacrifice
for the right man. (This will make him love you.)


















the dynamics of heterosexuality

SEX IS THE SECRET RELIGION OF SECULAR SOCIETY

hunger for food or love.
Our neo-pagan society
a mystical religious experience
achieving
salvation.

society is secretly run
by a sex cult,

obelisks

illustrated sex
our religion.


















goddesses. 

as ordinary as men.

Hollywood nonsense

flawed

you have been betrayed by society.
social engineering.

participate.



Saturday, February 26, 2011

Green Warty Things: Capes and Entities

The Shaman's Cape


 A Strange Green Cape
About twelve years ago I was visiting friends who were house sitting for a mutual friend of ours.  The home owner traveled to Mexico frequently on business; he owned a store in Oregon, and brought back folk art, books, and ceramics to sell in his store.

As I was wandering around the home looking at his extensive book collection, I noticed a large cape hanging on the wall. This cape was very unusual. It wasn’t made of any type of cloth, but seemed waxy and stiff, with little “horns” or  large thick thorns protruding from it. The cape was a darkish lime green color. While the cape wasn’t made from any cloth like material and didn’t look like it’d be comfortable to wear -- certainly not practical -- it was obvious this was a cape indented to be worn.

I touched the cape,rubbing my fingers on its smooth surface, being careful of course to avoid those white yellowish stud things that were clearly sharp enough to really hurt if touched.  I appreciated the cape for its history (whatever that may be, since I didn’t have a clue) and was drawn to it for some reason -- I couldn’t stop running my hands down the cool smooth surface.  Even while I was attracted to the cape, I felt uncomfortable around it at the same time; I didn’t like it. It was big and ugly, a sickish green color, and subconsciously, it annoyed me. It just seemed out of place.


Overcome with Fatigue: An OOBE
I had planned on staying to visit with my friends but suddenly felt extremely tired. It was the middle of the afternoon and a beautiful day, but I had to get home -- I was just so suddenly exhausted. Fortunately I didn’t live far, just a couple of miles. Yet riding my bike home on that beautiful day was so damn exhausting. I was losing focus; as if I were coming down with the flu yet I didn’t feel sick, as in ill, just ... inexplicably tired.

As soon as I got home I headed right for the bed, flopping down and grateful to finally make it home. Almost immediately I began to leave my body; one of those OOBE states that happen to me spontaneously and that I haven’t been able to control since I was a child. I wasn’t asleep, but not awake exactly, yet I was consciousness of the bedroom, the open window, the sun coming through the screen and other mundane things. At the same time I was paralyzed  but felt myself rapidly leaving my body. I could hear the sound of whistles and flutes coming from a distance away, then getting closer. These musical sounds were not coming from outside (like a neighbors house or stereo) but from whatever place my astral body was going towards...

The next thing I knew I was in a deep sleep.  I remember visions of chanting and signing, the flutes and whistles again, the cape draped around someone, a man. I couldn’t see his face. We were somewhere in the desert, or some rural country area. It was night and the stars were numerous and very close to the ground; I could touch them if I just reached out far enough. This was no dream; it was as real as this moment now, sitting here typing this. The memory of the desert ground; so hard, with dusty brown bits of soft dust, the coolish night air, the smells of earth and night, the music of flutes, bells, chanting. I was next to this man in a cape, his cape, face unseen, doing a jerky kind of wheeling, turning movement beneath the stars.

Add caption


A History Revealed
When I woke up, it was dark, and I felt as if I’d been poisoned. Not actually physically sick  but I mean, I felt as if someone had given me some kind of sleeping pill  or drugged me in some way. It took me a very long time to get back to reality. I felt sluggish and my tongue felt thick. This feeling lasted for a couple of days.

A day or two later I found out that this cape was from Mexico and had belonged to a Shaman. It was used in special ceremonies. I hadn’t mentioned this to my friend; it was the other way around. He had told me, quite spontaneously, that he was told that the cape was used for magical purposes that involved whistles and dancing, and was performed out in the desert, away from towns and especially the Church. How or why our friend managed to get this cape I don’t know, except that was a collector of what we call folk art and folk religious items. To those that participated in these dances and ceremonies, those are just labels used by outsiders.


Desert Visitation: The Green Warty "Man"
This incident happened about twenty-five years ago or so.  I was sitting on the bed reading. It was still early, around 7:00 pm, maybe earlier. I was simply on top of the covers, dressed, reading my book. My husband was in the other room. I had what I call a “mind post card,” -- it’s an experience that happens every so often, where the picture, absolutely vivid 3-D full color image,  is “inserted” into my mind with a sharp suddenness. It’s as if someone had literally slid a postcard or a slide  of an image (and very often a moving image) into my head. I don’t know where it comes from, or why it happens. Usually it’s a telepathic thing: a preview of something that occurs later that day, or within a day or two. This time however, it wasn’t a prediction of something; it was a “visit.”

source: UFO-FYI
The Lime Green Warty Man in the Desert
This “mind post card” was of a dirty lime-green being with warts or bony stubby nubs all over his body. He had two little stubs or buttons at the top of his forehead; not horns or antlers, but the suggestion of such. I just “knew” that this being was male. It wasn’t human, but it wasn’t animal. It was maybe closer to human than not, but definitely not human. He was sitting in profile to me, squatting down actually. We were out in the desert -- or, he was. At this point it doesn’t matter; it was as if I was transported, or his whole world superimposed itself onto mine. I was there with him/it. We had entered each other’s realm of existence. Somehow I had been transported to his desert, and his desert had moved closer to my world. He looked a bit like this ubiquitous image of the alien in Varginha, Brazil without the red glowing eyes, and much greener.

He saw me -- or sensed me --  and turned his head to look at me. He slowly grinned at me, but this was no happy smiley expression! He was a nasty piece of work! It was clear he knew exactly how I was feeling, and thought it very funny in a sadistic way. He was also a little irritated I was there -- or, he was here -- that we were in each other’s worlds. He didn't like that I had, however unintentionally, managed to cross over and into his realm.


Coming Back in a Flash and a Scream
I was so damn startled that I screamed. With that scream he popped out (or I was snapped back to my own reality.) And again he seemed irritated, it as if he wanted me to stick around so he could toy with me. He was mad I had screamed and ruined the fun. Such a temporary and special event gone in a flash. I was so damn unnerved by this, frightened, that I was annoyed at my husband. "Didn't you hear me scream?" I asked him. "Yes," he said, but told me he didn't come into the bedroom because he thought I was dreaming, or just stubbed a toe or something. Of course there was nothing he could have done about a green warty desert dwelling entity that appeared on the astral plane, but I was so unhinged by the experience I wasn't thinking logically.
Image: Brain Froud


To this day I remember that experience with a chill. I don’t associate any UFO experience or connection with this (although, with all the high strangeness that often accompanies UFOs who knows) and I wouldn’t say it was alien. Not alien from another planet; not even alien from this earth. But  I had the sense it very much belonged here and was of the earth, and it belonged here, if such judgments can be made on these things, more than humans. I had the feeling it was indigenous to the earth.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Ida Craddock: 'Sexual Outlaw, Erotic Mystic'

Reviews of: Vere Chappell's Sexual Outlaw, Erotic Mystic: The Essential Ida Craddock.


A skeptic view (fantasy prone, sexual abuse, etc.) on the following but still interesting: THE MAGONIA BLOG: Sexual Outlaw, on the story Ida Craddock. Craddock (1857-1902) was a sexologist, who learned about sexual pleasures from 'Soph' a ghost. Parallels to Mary, to contactees, succubi and incubus, and to all those sexual-supernatural unions are obvious. I haven't read the book; I'm not familiar with Craddock  but I'm looking forward to reading this book.

I notice that the forward is written by Tarot author and scholar Mary K. Greer. 

Craddock was the victim of her times; the moral setting she lived in would have put her in prison for her attitudes, (she was the target of "Anthony Comstock and his Society for the Suppression of Vice . . ." according to this review on Vere Chappell's bio page. Instead, she committed suicide.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

found poem: from the ravings of henry makow, rearranged . . .

found poem

from the ravings of henry makow, rearranged. . .

pounding the drum for promiscuity
In a fit of nostalgia
I had fond memories

I quickly realized why
I
was so messed up as a young man.


no one has a clue

the "J" word
is never mentioned.

The movie oozes
yet the audience
 is totally unaware.

"Why can't we just
 just
have sex?"

I walked in on someone
watching "Hot Tub Climate Change,"

A habit of promiscuity
in the trailer, awakes
directed by another tribalist

Jewish navel gazing

own Hollywood
Sabbatean satanism, Sabbatean-Frankists
Illuminati

fig leaf

Monkey see, monkey do
a tiny cult
use us
as their human shields

From the words of Henry Makow in Hollywood's Sabbatean Sex Propaganda, January 8, 2011
http://www.henrymakow.com/sabbatean_sex_propaganda.html
constructed by regan lee, January 2011

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Richelle Hawks' Medusa's Ladder: Patron Saint of UFOs

Women of Esoterica contributor Richelle Hawks  has a wonderful new column (Medusa's Ladder) at BoA entitled Patron Saint of Flying Saucers. As usual, Richelle writes beautifully. In this article, Hawks writes about a lovely book find from 1925 that evokes flying saucers:


Considering it more closely, I was getting a strange, provocative, sci-fi, atomic age kind of vibe from it and it was a very peculiar feeling, quite anachronous. I knew from the book's feel, particular materials, fonts, and agewear that it was older, an interbellum relic. Inspecting the title pages, I was correct—1925. What could this more mod feeling be, then?
I sat down with the book and considered the feeling and the answer hit me suddenly in a flash of recognition—the bottom Saint-scene transformed before my eyes: it's a classic UFO form.
Inspecting it further, I found there were even corresponding details. The window/doors of the coliseum, are fairly close to the place where portholes are described, and there are even spectators in the places where UFO occupants have been described.

Richelle Hawks : Medusa's Ladder

Speaking of Richelle Hawks, saints, and UFOs, a reminder to readers that you can download a free collection of articles by yours truly on Mary and UFOs, including Richelle's article A New Vision:The Virgin Mary Tree of Salt Lake City

Thursday, July 1, 2010

"Harry Potter" Actress Would Be Honor Killing Victim

Muslim father and brother of Harry Potter star charged with threatening to kill her
The father and brother of an actress who starred in the Harry Potter films have been charged with threatening to kill her.
Afshan Azad, 22, has appeared in four of the movies as Padma Patil, a classmate of the young wizard.
She was allegedly attacked at her home in Longsight, Manchester, on May 21 this year.
Now her father Abdul Azad, 54, and brother, Ashraf Azad, 28, both of Beresford Road, Longsight, have appeared in court.