Spiritual Predators and sorcerers

Sophia_ · #1 04-10-2008, 09:47 AM

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Quote:

Sorcerers believe that the predators have given us our systems of beliefs, our ideas of good and evil, our social mores. They are the ones who set up our hopes and expectations and dreams of success or failure. They have given us covetousness, greed, and cowardice. It is the predators who make us complacent, routinary, and egomaniacal.

They gave us their mind! Do you hear me? The predators give us their mind, which becomes our mind. The predators' mind is baroque, contradictory, morose, filled with the fear of being discovered any minute now.

Through the mind, which, after all, is their mind, the predators inject into the lives of human beings whatever is convenient for them. And they ensure, in this manner, a degree of security to act as a buffer against their fear.

Its getting scarier for those predators who thrive on control, manipulation, and authority for their daily fix.

KittyKitty · #2 04-10-2008, 11:11 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Sophia_

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Its getting scarier for those predators who thrive on control, manipulation, and authority for their daily fix.

I looked up who the text is from, and there are documents that say he was a conman.

*cherry bomb* · #3 04-10-2008, 11:28 AM

who? why?

Sophia_ · #4 04-10-2008, 01:18 PM

<<Baroque, contradictory, morose, fearful. >>

Who is keeping you from gaining wisdom, knowledge, truth?
Who keeps you doubting your divine nature?

Who is wanting you to 'take care of yourselves'? ... to know yourselves?

Who is wanting for you to find your inner beauty?... to find yourself in simple wonders?

*wooosshhh!*

Fresh cinnamon rolls, the sounds and smells inverted in memories
precariously teeter on the edge of oblivion. Grandmother's hymne,
calming spring rain on the cottage tin, porch music.

Articulated moments in time’s masterpiece. Heavenly glowing
smiles a tender heart. Nana busily spot-checking silver
spoons as they clank into the crystal glass jar treasured,
reminds her of her grandmother’s house.

The rain is falling, and I haven’t found a care in this serenity.
Haven’t decided whether to romance some sunnies later
at the lakeshore, or tune into Rosemary’s noon show.

Leopard frogs croak in harmony, and I’m reminded of their avocation
to observe my patience. They don’t realize why I brought
the cane pole down to the grassy bank. "Worms!" "Don’t
fret my fellow water-comrads. They can swim too."

Summer has a smell to it, furthermore. I can’t find the right words.
I remember in a profound sense what brings tears, and
yet not elocution. The ink has blurred my thoughts, and it is useless
to continue; the tin porch panel must have a tiny hole.

Guess I should eat before I go down to visit my lake friends.

~~carefulcarpenter

kesh · #5 04-10-2008, 01:32 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by *cherry bomb*

who? why?

carlos castaneda, fake anthropologist

they checked the dates he reported being in mexico doing shamanic stuff against his stack requests at UCLA's library

One of the most memorable discoveries the De Mille made in his examination of the stack requests was that when Castaneda said he was participating in the traditional peyote ceremony -- the least fantastic episode of drug use -- he was not only sitting in the library, but he was reading someone else's description of their experience of the peyote ceremony.