John Evans: A Portrait of The Artist As A Young Man

John Evans: A Portrait of The Artist As A Young Man

It is my immense pleasure to bring to you again the poetry of my friend and faithful colleague and brother, John Evans. I recently posted his "Adam's Lament" accompanied by a few words of my own about John, the bardic tradition and the importance of memory. Well, he happened to have the courage (and good fortune) to recite the poem live on YouTube with some light musical accompaniment. PLEASE CLICK HERE TO WATCH

John and I have been friends and colleagues for over three years now. As you can tell if you have watched the clip, he is blind. I will not say he suffers from an infliction, for as I tell him, it is a blessing in our day and age to be blind given the vast amount of dung piles being projected at us through the media and Hollywood. Yet John can still see better than most. When the Silmarillion Seminar (Click HERE for the podcast) reconvened since the release of "The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey" to talk about our reactions to the movie, John had grown up a little and boy did it show. Listening to him talk about the movie you would never guess he was blind. It is important to note he lost his sight at 6 years old. And God couldn't have picked a better time because he was lucky enough to see the Lord of The Rings movie trilogy as the last images he would come to see, and that has proven to be more than enough.

My collaboration with John started when I had absolutely no idea he was blind. I first met him about three years or so ago when his was just sixteen when he and I were chosen to study The Silmarillion with the Tolkien Professor, Corey Olsen.  In these three hour long episodes where we studied at length, chapter by chapter, Tolkien's The Silmarillion sounded like a graduate student in music or drama, for his voice was deep and he had such a tremendous amount of knowledge, not just on Tolkien but on just about every topic under the Sun.

After The Silmarillion Seminar ended, I made it a point to keep in touch with John. We corresponded and had similar taste and he reminded me very much of myself at his age, though he is much wiser. We both needed to have a podcast go on. We longed for it. So we began what I called "Tolkien Archeology": a podcast and website dedicated to a literary exegesis on Tolkien beginning with Sir Gawain and The Green Knight. For hours upon hours we recorded our thoughts and I even interviewed some well-known scholars on the subject, even some book-sellers. I no longer have the rights to those recordings but I do still have the other recordings. The interviews I conducted were bought up and never released, but I pray they will someday.

At any rate, we have been collaborators ever since.Let me begin with his thoughts on "The Great Gatsby":

"As for Gatsby, it is a truly remarkable and telling movie, so much so the
critics hated it which is either a tell tale sign of genius or foolishness-
In this case I believe its genius. Gatsby is the everman, the real American,
the hero of a thousand faces who ends up failing instead of succeeding, why?
Because Dazy, the sun goddess, is a pawn and puppet-mistress of men's
hearts. In this  beautiful pros poem text all are victims and all are
anti-heros. All are failures and each of them is a product of their own
imagination gone to hell. A story like this one turns the audience on their
heads. We want to root for Gatsby but we know he will fall short of his
goal. The scene where he's in the pool- Sounds like Brian Jones- He's still
hoping Dazy will call him. He's hopeful- He's optimistic- He's me and you
and us and anybody who is reaching for the green-light. This work of  art
asks us to redefine tragedy in a modern light. I've only scratched the
surface here- There is much more in this slender little book and this
beautifully insane movie than what most people give it credit for."

With that, let me get to the poetry John has been trying to get out into the world. This is just a taste. Sometimes he comes up with them on the spot. In fact the reason this blog has been delayed was because everytime I replied to John, he would reply with a poem. I sincerely respect and honor the art of letters in an age where that seems to be lost by the day.

Snowdrops: Antidote of Circe

Little White Flowers
By John Evans



Little white flowers on a poor girl's grave,
Gleam like dewdrops on a fallen leaf,
Ensnared in morning's sweet sunrise,
Crueler than the cold north wind.
Nine times nine the church bells ring,
In the misty hollow beside the brown yard,
Where the priests in black chant their solemn prayers,
To a god wiser than their cloistered ramblings.
A bereaved mother hides her bloodshot eyes,
From the familiar sepulchers and sad mounds,
Masking the shadow that lurks in plain sight,
In the reluctant stares of weeping children.
Stain glass portraits of a tortured past,
Depict the hope mortality observes,
Affirmed by the blood of the martyred king,
Who stands beyond the gates of eternity.
To him come the cleansed who were sleeping,
Awoken from time's dreamless path,
Every man and woman must travel,
Before entering our father's deathless home.
Little white flowers in the Shepard's garden,
Never wilt or fade away,
As a certain poor girl looks on laughing,
Clothed in God's healing light.
She sits upon the grassy mound,
And smiles to see her earthly mother come,
Free from sorrow's wretched curse,
Reborn in love's limitless realm.
Down in the dregs of materiel existence,
Her limp body rots in the sullen soil,
Surrounded by aged monuments bearing the cross,
That opened the doors to paradise.



 

Death from The Thoth Tarot Deck

A Parable of Death

By John Evans



Sirens wail bitterly through the night,
While neighbors shout in shrill voices at the crumpled truck,
That now lies on its gigantic side,
Split open like a gleaming tin can.
A crowd of gawking highschool student's flock to the scene,
Brandishing their cell-phones in the unreal glare,
Taking photos of the unhappy "incident,"
Grotesquely babbling to themselves about what they ate for supper.
"I think he's dead," a fat snob squeals,
Shaking his chubby arms at the mangled mess,
Delighting in the pointless carnage,
As though death means no more to him than a crummy cheeseburger.
"Who knows," his promdate huffs,
Biting her lip in mock remorse,
Mistaking frustration for sorrow's steady pain,
Unable to admit her genuine apathy.
"I'm tired of standing," he bluntly replies,
Muttering a fowl word under his putrid breath,
Reeking of marihuana and pizza,
He bought from a friend of a friend,
The usual way.
"I don't care," she says to him,
Sneering impishly up at the starry sky,
Imagining the dead man's spirit ascending Jacob's Ladder,
Escorted by angels dressed in neon pink.
She can't help but laugh.
There is no way of stopping it.
The obscene sound trickles out,
And her date storms off indignantly pretending he has a conscience.
Neither fool blinks twice at the ambulance,
Or the police,
Or the newspaper people in their firm plaid shirts,
Sipping coffee in idle fascination.
Neither fool sees the church across the grey road,
Or the weathered headstones on the holy property,
Or the wiry old priest frowning down at them,
Reciting the rosary in the chapel's entrance,
Praying as much for their souls as the deceased's.
Some choose to forget,
While others choose to remember.
But sooner or later,
Judgment must come,
And on that day of days,
There will be no time left to decide,
So for the love of God,
Choose carefully ..

Giotto Scrovegni "Kiss of Judas"

 An Iscariot Circus
By John Evans



Conscience is a crewel comfort,
Called from virtue's silent seed,
That takes root in the eternal present,
Outside the veil of father time.
The chains of justice cannot imprison,
A good soul from his appointed place,
In God's house where the truth is rewarded,
And the innocent are absolved of pain.
But woe unto he who works hell's mischief,
Dressed in sensibility's borrowed guise,
Tempting the king's men with false visions,
Of grandeur preserved in flights of fancy.
Idols of the laughing sun,
Doom America to Babylon's demise,
Thrust into the jaws of Odin's bane,
Where Fenrir's hunger hastens the harvest of the netherworld.
Loki watches Judas tighten the knot,
To the noose pride from death's patient hands,
Unaware the tree from which the traitor falls,
Is the same in which he planted Arachni's nest.
Thus Atlantis crumbles into the deep,
From whence the serpent's consort came,
Bathed in the unlight of a million ions,
Worshiped by the horned prince's fanged flock.
Calypso's daughter how I detest thee,
Heir to Lucifer's shining curse,
Whose web was first strung from Eden's flower,
And thence sown into the charcoal heart of mother earth.
Adieu reason when she panders nearer.
Adieu logic betwixt her cool arms.
Adieu paradise defiled in her tender lips.
Adieu love drowned in her restless fire.
Remember the cross O troubled one.
Remember the light that dwells in thee.
Remember the promise you swore to Zion,
Beneath the tower of the Fisher King.
Galloping hooves in the gathering stillness,
Break the pace of tomorrow's storm,
Yesterday forsook in idle sorrow,
Purchased with an Iscariot kiss.
Thirty pieces of jealous silver,
Rattle against the Pharisee's floor,
Echoing in the halls of Mordred's palace,
Erected on the ruins of Arthur's throne.
All these things dance across the politician's face,
Trained on his constituents assembled for supper,
At a banker's party North of Washington,
Where the red wine flows faster than the blood of hunted children,
Gunned down in schools,
And mosques,
And temples,
And churches,
And homes,
And busy streets,
Everywhere ..
Amen America
Amen Hollywood
Amen Apple Corporation
Amen McDonald's
Amen Walmart
Amen Santa Claus
Amen Judas
We wish you well


 

On Doctor Who, Season 7, Episode 8 "The Rings of Akhaten" Part II

On Doctor Who, Season 7, Episode 8 "The Rings of Akhaten" Part II

The Queen of Ages

So, I just threw the images above just randomly as food for thought, and as a little glimpse of things to come on this blog.

Back to Doctor Who "Rings of Akhaten" then. Recall, in part one of this series, I laid a very basic foundation for what is the occult, why we consider some of the Western divination arts "occult" or "hidden." We looked at the worldview and history of specifically The Solar Hero, Saturn worship,  and Freemasonry, tying it right to the present day. Screenwriters are many things, but one thing are not (most of them) is stupid. They know what works and what doesn't, who their audience is and what the subtext is. I think many of the symbols in television are their maybe sometimes by coincidence, but as McKenna said, "coincidence is what you have at the end of a bad theory."

Again, please see my friend and colleague Kat's blog and read her review of "The Rings of Akhaten" first HERE. If your are looking for a very lucidly writ prose review of this episode and the layers contained within the episode you need go no further. Kat does a Doctor Who podcast (click here to follow along). I can only offer a perspective of my point of view, which will focus on the symbols and perhaps subtler, motifs and symbolism contained within Doctor Who.

Doctor Who versus the "Old God"

Doctor Who is almost as close to a god incarnate. In his confrontation with the almost Hallowenish face of Akhaten, he says ironically: "Oh you like to think that you are a god. But you're not a god. You're just a parasite eaten out with jealousy and envy and longing for the lives of others. You feed on them. On the memory of love and loss and birth and death and joy and sorrow!"

Now, I find this interesting and ironic because similar charges could be levied against The Doctor himself. This is why even when Doctor Who does not have a companion he somehow finds one, and one could say he plays with time, space and people for his own benefit, largely at the cost of others. There are some serious moral questions about the Doctor's actions throughout the series that I find sort of creepy and more than questionable. The Doctor uses the stories of men and women just like the "Old God," saving the Earth is almost an after-thought. But for some reason, we buy it, fall in love with The Doctor, and for a world deprived of meaning he gives a sense of enchantment and wonder. Those are good things, but at the same time you must have (as Bertrand Russell put it) "a balance of reverence and contempt" when studying in any kind of Art, be it literature, philosophy, political manifestos (especially those), a Van Gogh or even a Bob Dylan. 

Today, I am informed is the one-year anniversary of the airing of this episode on the BBC, so it is quite fitting that I should post it today. The young Queen of Ages (who looks a heck of a lot like a Star Wars character, and indeed the whole show has a George Lucas feel to it) is really scared of taking part in what could easily be mistaken for a Church ceremony. The Doctor and Clara even try to sing along to words (at least Clara) does not know. That is reminiscent of what it is like to go from church to church, not knowing the words or the cadence of the song. It's comedic and every laugh has a profound truth behind it.  The Catholic Church, which many can argue indeed does take the stories and offerings of their congregation, could be just a parasite as this Akhaten, old solar god. It is interesting to listen to the words of the song which are difficult to make out, but it's about having the "old god" be kept asleep. According to some research, the concept of sleeping gods that require blood of a preferably young girl ("The fresher the better" says the Master Vampire in Buffy) to keep the "old ones" asleep. Without going into too much depth (having been threatened by someone who didn't want this article published) I will say that some people believe this is why blood is poured onto rocks at different ritual sites. I will leave it at that and hope the reader does his or her own homework into that. 

"No Evil can be done to a Good man in this life or the next." Socrates' Death

Socrates said in his Apologia (or Plato through Socrates) "no evil can be done to a good man in this life or the next." And that is my answer to the threats by the dark masons who do not want this secret "occulted" knowledge revealed especially, who dare threaten me with what? God? "Do as I say, or I'm going to send you to God." As I wrote in the earlier post, I have not taken a secret oath to Freemasonry unlike many of my family here and across the pond. I am not afraid of any threats of black magic. I've dated (unknowingly) high-priestess witches and Eastern Stars. If I can survive that everything else is a feeble anonymous threat. Besides, there are many Light Witches and Light Masons who are on my side, so good luck!

At any rate, the young Queen of Ages is scared because if she messes up the slumber song one little bit, then she will have to be sacrificed. And wouldn't you know it, such a thing happens. As the Queen of Ages is singing with the chorus of the congregation to appease the God to sleep, her male counterpart in this cosmic opera is the one who actually messes up the song if you're paying attention. Rewind it if you don't believe me. Who is the one who angers the god? The guy or the Queen? It's pretty clear it's the male.  It's very noticeable that his voice goes out of tune. And the "old God" gets angry and the young Queen of Ages is off to be sacrificed. Clara is irate, and it appears the Doctor is "walking away," but he tells her that the one thing "we don't do" is "walk away." 

They've taken the Doctor's role as Earth-protector to another level here. The Queen of Ages is a young humanoid creature, probably the exact demographic this show is aimed at. And The Doctor even though he's from a doomed planet and is another species altogether, he looks human. If this plot sounds familiar it should. In the Bible, God takes a human form, and that Divine Conception is exalted in the Catholic and other Churches. The word Church, by the way, comes from the Scottish (Country named for Pharaoh's daughter Scotia) Kirk (like the Captain), which comes from the Greek Circe. Mother Circe's religion was the religion of sacrifice, by the entertainment and, well, letting Men be the pigs that they are, except Ulysses of course, immune to her poisoned enchantment because he eats snowdrops ironically poisonous if eaten. Go figure.

As an aside, notice that the major institutions of this world, and the secular priests wear the color black. Why? Because black is the color of Saturn worship. You will notice that when you graduate you wear a black square and robe, Catholic and Jewish priests wear black and Muslims venerate a certain black cube which they walk about counter-clockwise, like Saturn's rotation. The Kabba as it is called, is probably the most sacred place in the Islamic faith. Wherever a Muslim goes, when he or she prays, they must face not just Mecca, but to this black stone, the Kabba. Also, one of the pillars of the Islamic faith is that every Muslim must make a pilgrimage to this very site once in their lives. Point it, black and Saturn worship is contained in all three of the Abrahamic religions.

The Kabba

In the Islamic faith, Mecca has a Masonic circle, and within the Masonic circle is a square. The square and compass are the two symbols of freemassonry, representing the "law of correspondence" or "as above, so below." You have Times Square, Red Square, Vatican Square, Trafalgar Square and on and on. The Gestapo of Nazi Germany wore black as well. This is because of the veneration of the black sun Saturn. When Wernher Von Braun (famous Nazi rocket scientist) went to NASA, he designed the Saturn V rocket which would take the astronauts to the Moon. People often mistake NASA's flag for the Earth or for the Moon, but some say that the ring around it is an homage to Saturn.

NASA's Logo

So, The Doctor goes off to save the child Queen of Ages, and offers his story for the Old God. Katherine Sas writes that this is "one of those classic Who moments." And I totally agree. It is an amazing performance by Matt Smith, who plays the Doctor. Interestingly he alludes to "Secrets that must never be told! Knowledge that must never be spoken!" (see image above). And very soon agents in a black come out. They look like a cross between Christopher Nolan's Bane and Master Vampire from the Buffy series.

Bane plus Master Vampire?

 
In the end, of course the day is saved. And Clara is a hero. What has happened is that the "old god" has been destroyed at the sacrifice of Doctor Who accompanied by a chorus of uplifting music, not as drone-like as the "Old God." Clearly now, with the old god destroyed, what's left? Well, Doctor Who is left and he is the new god. Kat points this out in her review of the episode and describes the irony pretty well. She seems to have figured out things "The Nerdist" review (click here) did not in its very superficial review.


Further, as noted by Kat in her review: 

"The most troubling and amazing part of that speech is how The Doctor seems, at times, to be talking about himself. Here we have an ancient character who is often called a god, speaking to the Old God. Both are called Grandfather within the episode. In his description of the Old God, we see a mirror image of The Doctor’s darkest characteristics:

 All these people who’s ancestors devoted themselves, sacrificed themselves to you. Can you hear them singing? Oh, you like to think you’re a god. You’re not a god, you’re just a parasite, eaten out with jealousy and envy and longing for the lives of others. You feed on them, on the memory of love and loss and birth and death and joy and sorrow!

The Doctor has certainly found many loyal companions who have and would willingly sacrifice themselves for him. Are we to interpret his need for companions as similarly selfish, even “parasitic,” as he calls it. Lest we start to see The Doctor in a villainous light, this vampire-like image is followed up by one of a self-sacrificial and tragic hero:

I’ve lived a long life and I’ve seen a few things. I walked away from the Last Great Time War. I marked the passing of the Time Lords. I saw the birth of the universe and I watched as time ran out, moment by moment, until nothing remained. No time. No space. Just me. I walked in universes where the laws of physics were devised by the mind of a madman. I’ve watched universes freeze and creations burn. I have seen things you wouldn’t believe. I have lost things you will never understand.

Both portraits are equally true. I’m constantly astonished by the complexity of this silly little show, and never more so than when we are given a glimpse of The Doctor’s psyche. He is surely one of the most complex characters ever created."

I agree with Kat. This is a complex issue here. What is the Doctor doing here? Is it not a little ironic that companions and many others seem to sacrifice themselves for Doctor Who many, many times, and speak about him as if he were a God? Even "Donna" (Dawn-Ah) when making it clear she doesn't want a mate (her eyes tell us more). She's an adult who has spent her life looking for Doctor Who, and leads a life almost parallel to his. There are moments in "Partners In Crime" where she is looking at Venus (Aphrodite in the Greek--Goddess of Beauty, Love and other things) where she has a twinkle in her eye looking up to the heavens as she praises Doctor Who.

But he is not the "Old God" which is associated with going to Church, and with ugliness. And it strikes me as amusing that the Doctor is making his great speech while the people are singing in tune. It's a different song altogether, but they are singing much more powerfully, much more forcefully. Now that they are singing for Doctor Who, well then, it's fine. But sing for the "Old God" and that's just pomposity and a symbol of decadence and parasitism. 

What really is going on here is that the Doctor is stepping in as the God for people who (according to the numbers) have lost their faith, do not attend any Church, see religion as some kind of ancient barbarism. This very wide segment of the population is the target audience for Doctor Who. The message here seems clear: "Follow me, Doctor Who instead of your Old God. Your Old God is a parasite that uses sacrifices and preys on little children. I do the same thing, but I take the form of a handsome "scientific" well-dressed Englishman." And so it is. Doctor Who is probably, as John Lennon said of The Beatles "more popular than Jesus." Simply ignoring this fact will not do any good. By going inside each episode to see the morals of this new god, Doctor Who, you'll see (and I hope to show in future posts) how the writers and creators of Doctor Who are constantly playing off this theme with Christmas specials and with plots and so on. Especially with the Doctor's fondness for young sexy women he watches since infancy. In this way, Doctor Who makes Lolita dry and boring. 

And if you haven't noticed, there is a giant child audience for Doctor Who. He may as well be god for them. He does not seem to have any problem meddling in the affairs of young children, and of other planets which by any logic of Space-Time, which disrupt the whole thing. Time is non-linear and the flap of a butterfly's wings can cause a Tsunami in Japan. The Doctor aheres to "Cosmic Laws of the Whoniverse" only when it is convenient takes this stance. He is otherwise totally fine with this meddling in the affairs of people. In fact, again as Kat Sas points out:

"No longer does he try to even pretend that he won’t get involved. In a nice reverse echo of “The Beast Below,” The Doctor defies Clara’s (and the audience’s) expectation of his actions. In the former episode, The Doctor tells Amy a bold-faced lie, explaining that they “never get involved” in the affairs of other planets, only to immediately contradict himself by running out of the TARDIS to comfort a crying child. Amy quickly catches on to the fact that this is The Doctor’s modus operandi. This time, Clara expects The Doctor to walk away, and challenges him for doing so. The Doctor whirls on her, explaining instead that the one thing she should know about traveling with him is that, “We never just walk away.” This new Eleventh Doctor seems to care, and feel, more deeply than he ever has before. He seems to have accepted his purpose: To help others. Not as a meddlesome demi-god, but as a wise and benevolent intergalactic custodian. He is quick to rush to the rescue, ready and willing to sacrifice himself, alarmingly open and vulnerable with his memories and emotions."

Like I said earlier, I could not have put it better myself. And of course this is all well and good with the younger children demographic which every corporation covets. I worry about the messages Doctor Who sends to these children and adults. Especially with the first one being "forget your God, I am your God" and the very sexual nature of the characters. These elements of course are on the conscious level to discerning adults, but not to kids. I worry about how the Doctor treats his companions, his morality, his playfulness with the lives of human beings in an all-too-seductive way. Would you like Doctor Who to be the type of guy your daughter wants to date? Will no man ever live up to the fictional expectations? What then is the subtext of Doctor Who and what kind of programming is this? 

All I know is that I can try to do my part in seriously studying Doctor Who and its evolution from the beginning until now and see where it leads me. It is important to note that England and the BBC have always been at the forefront of what is called propaganda. We must rid ourselves of the silly notion that these people have our best interests at heart. From the Creel Commission and the Orwellian Ministry of Truth to today, England has lead with the United States as the greatest producers of what Kennedy School of Government Dead Joe Nye calls "soft power." Soft power is the power wielded by cultural institutions such as media, television, movies, magazines, in sort, imagination. They define the cultural values with their content, we only react to it. And even then we are bound to have some subconscious elements that are so deeply ingrained that we barely see it.We react how the characters on screen (or page) react, and some of us may even go so far as to even brand ourselves with tattoos. But don't worry, that identity is waiting for your consumption already. You cannot fake real cool, real originality.

Keeping this in mind, let me finish "Rings of Akhaten" with a promise that this episode of Doctor Who is not the only episode to have rich symbolism and subtext with giant implications as to worship, there are many more. Doctor Who itself is not the only television show to do this sort of predictive programming (see Star Trek). For those of you who do not know what predictive programming is, it is the art of so subtly placing characters which you will identify with in situations which you yourself will someday be faced with, and when this happens you will most likely make your decision/reaction based on the character's reaction in the movie, or TV show, or book.

Halloween Face Old Solar God with Pyramid

  

I leave you with this and the promise of more to come Dear Reader.

"The series has generally tended to be quite antagonistic toward religion—particularly organized religion. Here, though, the Doctor espouses a "live and let live" approach: When he tells Clara about the belief of the people of this system that all life in the universe originated on Akhaten, she asks if it's true, and he simply replies: "Well, it's what they believe...It's a nice story." Later, he expounds on the notion of "soul" as a term for the sum total of memories, experiences, and circumstances that make up a person with a speech (beautifully delivered by Smith) that sounds like it could have been inspired by Carl Sagan, with an Alice in Wonderland reference thrown in for good measure:

"Hey, do you mind if I tell you a story, one you might not have heard? All the elements in your body were forged many, many millions of years ago, in the heart of a faraway star that exploded and died. That explosion scattered those elements across the desolations of deep space. After so many millions of years those elements came together to form new stars and new planets. And on and on it went—the elements came together and burst apart, forming shoes and ships and sealing wax, and cabbages and kings. Until, eventually, they came together to make you. You are unique in the universe. There is only one Merry Gallel, and there will never be another. Getting rid of that existence isn't a sacrifice—it is a waste."

  .