The Out-of-Head Foundation

I read a reference to "Hughes, head of the Out-of-Body Foundation" and misread it as "Hughes, of the Out-of-Head Foundation."

About an hour later, I found this juxtaposition in Laeth's latest batch of aphorisms:

have it all figured out of my mind

dear death experience. near life expedience

"Out of my mind" and "out of my head" are variants of the same expression. A near-death experience is a type of out-of-body experience.

Rot syncs

On December 20, I finished reading Paul Quarrington's novel Whale Music and started reading Laeth's novel The Rot.

Near the end of Whale Music, the Brian Wilson character encounters a stray dog and buys it some food, after which it follows him around, becomes "his" dog, and is very loyal.

Later, very near the end, record-company executive Kenneth Sexstone threatens a police detective by quoting Leviticus to him while phoning his lawyers.

Kenneth begins to dial. "Are you a religious man, detective?"

Hogan considers this briefly, pushing out his lower lip. "Yup."

"Leviticus, chapter 26, verse 21. And if ye walk contrary unto me, and will not hearken unto me, I will bring seven times more plagues upon you. Hello, Sexstone here. Legal department, please. I will also send wild beasts among you, which shall rob you of your children, and destroy your cattle, and make you few in number. And your high ways shall be desolate."

Then I started reading The Rot. In the second chapter, the narrator also feeds a stray dog which then becomes "her" dog and is very loyal. Then in the next chapter, we read of a priest whose mother, in a state of feverish delirium during the last weeks of her life, "kept repeating what sounded like a passage from scripture, but which no one could identify":

And Israel will not be free from uncleanness, for there will be plague upon plague, and curse upon curse, and every judgment and plague and curse will come upon him who is unclean, or hides his eyes from those who commit uncleanness, or those who defile the sanctuary of the Lord, or those who profane his holy name, then will the whole nation together be judged for all the uncleanness and profanation of this man, and there will be no respect of persons and no receiving at his hands of fruits and offerings and burnt offerings and fat, nor the fragrance of sweet savor, so as to accept it, and so fares every man or woman in Israel who defiles the sanctuary.

The threat of "plague upon plague" is obviously conceptually similar to the verse Kenneth Sexstone quotes, threatening to "bring seven times more plagues upon you." Later, it is discovered that the priest's mother had been quoting the apocryphal Book of Jubilees. Looking up the passage in question in my copy of Jubilees (the 1917 translation by R. H. Charles, which is the version quoted in the novel), I found footnotes saying it was inspired by the Book of Leviticus.

The Rot is about a condition called "the rot," invisible to most people, which spreads until almost everything and everyone in the world is infected. I finished the novel last night, December 28, and then checked the Anonymous Conservative blog. Every post on that blog ends with a link to americanstasi.com, saying "Send people to AmericanStasi.com because . . .," with a different reason given each time. Yesterday's post -- the one I read just after finishing The Rot -- ends with ". . . because the rot has infected everywhere."

The water is blue, and the birds are awake

On December 22, I watched most of Chris Knowles's latest sync video, "SYNCHRO-CYCLONE 2025: Epstein and Ghislaine, from ATLAS to Atlantis." The thumbnail shows a cyclone consisting of yellowish and bluish concentric circles.

The video was long and rambling, and most of the syncs didn't particularly wow me, so I didn't end up finishing it. At one point Chris discusses the the 2008 opening of a Dubai resort called Atlantis, The Palm, and he connects that name to the phoenix:

So here is The Palm. Now that should be setting off bells and whistles, you know, particularly with Atlantis rising, because the palm is also known as the phoenix. Okay, the phoenix. The date palm is the phoenix. Okay, so you understand the symbolism that we're looking at here.

"Palm tree" is indeed one of several disparate meanings of the Greek word phoenix:

Atlantis, The Palm is located on the Palm Jumeirah, a group of artificial islands:

The layout is somewhat reminiscent of that of the city of Atlantis as described in Plato's Critias, with concentric rings of land and water:

On December 21, I had picked up some Dr. Seuss books in excellent condition at a used bookstore. On December 23, I was looking through one of these I wasn't very familiar with, called,  Oh, the Thinks You Can Think! This spread caught my eye:

The layout of Da-Dake incorporates both the concentric circles of Plato's Atlantis (and Chris's cyclone) and, on the right side of the picture, the "fronds" of the Palm Jumeirah. There are also actual palm trees in the picture, as well as birds. The emphasis on the fact that "the birds are awake" seems somewhat suggestive of the phoenix, a bird that rises again after a sleep-like period of death.

On Christmas Day, I was walking through an unfamiliar part of Taichung, and the lines from the Dr. Seuss book above kept running through my head:

You can think about Day,

a day in Da-Dake.

The water is blue

and the birds are awake.

As I was walking and repeating those lines in my mind, I passed this hotel:

The three phoenixes depicted on the walls of the hotel are highly suggestive of the birds of Da-Dake, with their tails curving up above their heads. There are also rings painted on the walls, and a potted palm tree at the hotel entrance.

Then I noticed something about the Chinese name of the hotel. Back in October I posted "Communion and an ancient phoenix carving," and in the comments Bill connected the phoenix carving of my title with a particular Chinese character. He wrote, in part:

An ancient 'Phoenix' carving came up for me last night, at least via connections I began making.

For reasons not entirely clear to me, I wanted to watch a movie called "Manhunter", a movie I was not even aware existed until I decided to watch it. It is from the mid-1980's, and is based on the book Red Dragon, which is in turn the prequel to the more well known Silence of the Lambs. . . .  

 

The original book gets its name from the ancient Chinese character that is on a Mahjong tile. In the West, we call the tile, and thus the symbol, the Red Dragon, but it seems (you would know better than I do) that the character on the tile itself means something like "center, middle". . . .

In my dreams, the Phoenix has taken on Dragon symbolism, for instance breathing fire to envelope the world, something a standard mythical Phoenix does not do but dragons obviously do. . . .

Anyway, it is debatable on the connection between a Red Dragon and a Phoenix (in terms of one standing in for the other), but what is most important is that I had already made that connection, and thus considered the tree carving in that light, before reading this post.

I believe both the Red Dragon and Phoenix symbols are typically paired together in Chinese imagery and symbolism . . . .

As it happens, the Chinese character Bill refers to here is the second character in the city name Taichung (台中) -- as in the Taichung Phoenix Hotel. Here is another look at that hotel, together with the mahjong tile apparently known in English as the "Red Dragon":

As it happens, the character is written in red. Just below it is the English word Phoenix. Just to the right of it is the Chinese for "phoenix," which is 鳳凰. Bill wrote that "the Red Dragon and Phoenix symbols are typically paired together in Chinese imagery," which is partly true. The dragon and phoenix are typically paired, but the dragon is not red and has nothing to do with the 中 character. Here, though, by a strange coincidence, we do have a red 中 character paired with the phoenix -- and on a building that had already caught my attention for other reasons.

The reason I was walking through an unfamiliar part of Taichung was that I wanted to go to another used bookstore, one I've only been to a few times, and not recently. When I got there, I looked through the rather small foreign-language section, which was mostly English with a smattering of French. Seeing the name Tim Powers on a spine, I took it down and found that it was a French translation of Last Call, which I read (in English) earlier this year. It's called Poker d'Âmes ("Poker of Souls"), and the cover shows a monstrous-looking Scott Crane with the one-eyed Jack of Hearts emerging from his skull.

I don't need to stress the improbability of finding this particular book -- in French! -- in a used bookstore in Taichung, Taiwan. I frequent used bookstores, and Tim Powers has been on my radar since 2020. I never found a single book by him before this one. I bought it, despite my very limited French literacy, because how could I not?

Another book I found was Sources of Indian Tradition (1958), in two volumes, edited by Wm. Theodore de Bary. Wondering if it would be interesting, I picked up the first volume and opened it up, at random, to pp. 194-195, where, unexpectedly in a book on India, I found a section heading taken from the New Testament: "To the Pure All Things Are Pure." I read this excerpt from a Tantric poem (brackets and ellipsis in the original):

The mystics, pure of mind,

Dally with lovely girls,

Infatuated with the poisonous flame of passion,

That they may be set free from desire.

By his meditations the sage is his own Garuda,

Who draws out the venom [of snakebite] and drinks it.

He makes his deity innocuous,

And is not affected by the poison. . . .

Indians! Plus ça change!

A footnote explains that Garuda is "A mythical, divine bird, the enemy and slayer of snakes." Garuda just came up in "Flight of the Gargoyle," and now here he is again. The need for an explanatory footnote suggests that I just happened to open up to this book's first or only reference to that particular bird. Elsewhere in the poem, the "sage" who "is his own Garuda" is referred to as "Buddha," meaning "awakened." The birds are awake.

Merry Christmas

Unless the sync fairies have other plans, this will likely be my last post until after Epiphany. I wish all my readers a merry Christmas.

He was in the world, and the world was made by him, and the world knew him not.

He came unto his own, and his own received him not. But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name: which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.

And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us -- and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father -- full of grace and truth.

-- John 1:10-14

RIP Rob Reiner

I refuse to say anything bad about this man. Let's remember him as he was at his best and pass over the rest in charitable silence.

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:

Its loveliness increases; it will never

Pass into nothingness; but still will keep

A bower quiet for us, and a sleep

Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing

A flowery band to bind us to the earth,

Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth

Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,

Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways

Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,

Some shape of beauty moves away the pall

From our dark spirits.

Enter Sandman

Yesterday afternoon, I was sitting in a restaurant enjoying some after-lunch reading with a cup of coffee. Des Howell (Brian Wilson) is arguing with his mother over whether or not he needs psychiatric treatment, foreshadowing the "Garuda" scene I quoted in my last post.

"I have no need for [Dr.] Tockette," I respond. "I've made great strides. Why, just yesterday I almost went to bed. I almost got into my nappies, pulled down the covers and waited for Mr. Sandman."

"He says you won’t let him in the house."

The moment I read that, a new song came on in the restaurant's background music. I soon recognized it as "Enter Sandman" by Metallica.

Due to contextual ambiguity as to the antecedent of he and him, we could misread Des's mother as saying Des won't let Mr. Sandman into the house -- won't, that is, say, "Enter, Sandman!"

The Metallica song is about nightmares, which is fitting since, though I very rarely have nightmares these days, I did have one the night before. As recounted in "Flight of the Gargoyle," it was a nightmare to which I had to consent first, just as Des's mother says of Dr. Tockette (or, it could be, of Mr. Sandman), "He says it's necessary for your treatment that you open the door and invite him in." Like a vampire, or Mephistopheles. But also like Jesus.

I suppose when a Beach Boy grows up, he becomes a Sand Man.

Flight of the Gargoyle

Have you ever had a nightmare so horrific that the dream-producers weren't allowed to show it to you without your written consent and photo identification proving you to be at least 21 years of age?

I exaggerate. Slightly.

Last night I was meditating on Nephi's High Mountain Vision (1 Ne. 11-14) and had the idea that the dreams I would soon have might shed some light on it. I was thinking particularly about the Man Among the Gentiles and the question of whether he is Christopher Columbus, some future spacefarer, or someone else entirely. My dream chose to focus on a different aspect, though. Shortly after I entered the dreaming state, a voice spoke like a preacher reading the text on which he is about to sermonize ("Beloved shipmates, clinch the last verse of the first chapter of Jonah"):

And it came to pass that I beheld this great and abominable church; and I saw the devil that he was the founder of it (1 Ne. 13:6).

Before me on a table, I saw 21 rectangular pieces of iridescent metallic material, the size and shape of Tarot cards, laid out in a triangular pattern (a hexactys). These glowed and shimmered with kaleidoscopic rainbow-colored scintillations and were very hard to look at clearly. My attention was drawn to one of them -- bottom row, fourth from the left -- and I knew intuitively, just as in real life I often know intuitively what a card will be before I turn it over -- that it corresponded to the Devil. I started to reach out my hand to turn it face up.

I was stopped by the voice: "It is evil.  Are you sure you want to see it?"

I felt that I should.

"Do you understand the full meaning of the word abominable? You must choose whether you prioritize knowledge or peace of mind. Take as much time as you need."

I woke up, about two hours before my alarm. I understood that the dream was not over but had been paused. The voice was serious. I was  required to consent, in a state of full and unimpaired consciousness, to see whatever it was I was about to see. I went to the bathroom, splashed some water on my face, and returned to bed. It didn't take me long to make  my decision. "Peace of mind?" I said to myself -- thinking of the Boston song which, ironically given the situation, ends with the lines "Take a look ahead / Take a look ahead / Look ahead" -- "My peace of mind comes from God. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me. No true knowledge can change that. I'm in."

I went back to sleep and, after a brief hypnagogic prelude in which I felt as if my head were physically expanding, the dream picked up where it had left off. I picked up the shimmering rectangle, and it became in my hand a DVD case. The title of the film was Flight of the Gargoyle. I understood that it was originally a German movie but that this was the English version. It had been banned all over the world. I was told that once I pressed play, I would experience the movie as if it were reality, and there would be no way to stop or pause or fast-forward.

I pressed play.

It was horrific. Beyond horrific. Levels of horrific I hadn't previously been able to conceive of. I think I'm considerably closer than I was yesterday to understanding "the full meaning of the word abominable." Though the dream can have lasted no more than two hours by the clock, I subjectively experienced it as much longer -- eight hours minimum,  maybe closer to twelve. Several times I thought that it had reached the end -- that the entire world had been profaned and destroyed, and there couldn't be any more story after that -- only to discover that, no, the world was still limping along and had plenty more degradation in it.

With the exception of one detail I must note for sync purposes, I will not describe the specific content of Flight of the Gargoyle at all. Upon waking, I found myself unwilling to commit any of it to writing even in my private notebooks, let alone on a public blog. I did take some notes; however, they were not about the dream's specific content but about what I felt it had taught me about the nature of evil:

I must resist the temptation to describe it is "absolute" or "total" evil, since the whole production seems designed to demonstrate the truth that there can be no such thing. Evil is a process, not a state. It is not the absence of Good or the opposite of Good, but rather the process of the destruction, corruption, and perversion of Good, and specifically of Love -- and as such it is totally parasitic and dependent on the continued existence of Love. A world without Love would not be hell; it would only be meaningless chaos. Dante's antechamber at most. That is the fundamental reason evil can never fully triumph -- not because "Good is more powerful," but because it is strictly, logically impossible for it to do so.

The "gargoyle" of the title -- I will give the bare minimum description to make the sync that follows intelligible -- was a gigantic bird-like monster artificially created from, among other things, human body parts. At one point in the dream, I thought to myself, "Why do they call it the gargoyle? Roc would be a more natural name."

Upon waking, I found Flight of the Gargoyle so convincing as the title of a movie that I wanted to do a Google search to see if there was by any chance a real movie with that title. (Not the first time I have had this reaction to a dream title; cf. "How can these books not exist?"). When I typed in flight of the ga, autocomplete gave me garuda. Apparently it's the title of a Tibetan Buddhist book:

Garuda is the king of birds, the Hindu equivalent of the roc, so that seemed like a bit of a coincidence.

Just before writing this post, I was reading Whale Music. The eccentric Desmond Howell (Brian Wilson) is trying to get rid of a psychiatrist who has been sent to his house by his mother.

"Desmond! Let me in."

"If you're really Dr. Tockette, use the secret password!"

"Desmond. For your treatment to be successful, it's imperative that you allow me to enter without this password nonsense."

Desmond keeps insisting, and finally the doctor caves.

"This once then, and never again. Garuda."

"Garuda?"

"Open the door."

"No. You've alarmed me. You conjure in my mind this terrifying image of some mythical beast, half-bird, half-human, and then you ask that I open the door?"

Any mention of Garuda at all -- in a novel about the Beach Boys, of all places! -- would have been a sync. But Desmond specifically describes it as a "terrifying image" that is "half-bird, half-human." Garuda is depicted in religious art sometimes as a huge bird and sometimes as a man with wings and other bird features. The "gargoyle" in my dream, which is what led me to Garuda, was "half-human" in a rather different sense.