Gaze Blindly Into Her

Moderation. As I preached before, I will continue to drive; anything in gross excess is no good. In my previous entry, "Calling All Good Guys," I urged my "good guys" to embrace their nihilistic instincts. A quick scan of that post will reveal that I  never use the term "dark side" when referring to such behavior, and I don't for good reason.

Let's take it back for a minute...

The negative connotation behind the concept of "darkness" began in Europe during the Age of Enlightenment. Conceptually speaking, I don't feel as if this would be problematic had it not been for corrupt thinkers. Such labels created negative paradigms towards people of color. So as a natural response to such a tag, there have been some quite chilling receptions to;

The Black Madonna

Who is she? What does she truly represent? These are some of the questions that I sought answers to as I revisited this gone-cold topic of my own life. To my dismay, I found out that the reliable source that my research stemmed from a few years back was no longer available to me. So I went on researching, hoping to find a source equally as reliable to cite. I found it to be to no avail, but I did find other interesting ideas. Each and every piece of knowledge, even the strands that I didn't agree with as much, wove a fine tapestry of answers. I found that the Black Madonna had so much controversy surrounding her that it would be impossible for me to go with one conclusion, so I took what I was given in order to draw my own;

I found sources that renounced the Black Madonna's complexion; they state that the uppermost crest of the statues found globally, mostly through Europe, developed dark skin through years of degradation, and staining by candle soot. Let's go down the obvious road together; some Christians believe the image to be that of a geographically-correct Mary and Jesus. Other sources discern these obvious similarities to the Christian personification of "Mother Mary" and view her more as a pre-Christian earth goddess, hence the skin shade.

Many well versed experts look to the Egyptian pantheon for answers. The deity Isis is seen on the left with her divine son Horus. If you pay close attention to the photo on the right, you'll see two slashes running down the Madonna's check. Professor Stephen Benko claims that their origin stems from the Eye of Horus.

And yet, all of these pairings are clear parallels to one another? Stay with me.

Through the time-long debate of her meaning, the Madonna's power is made apparent. The longer we try to figure out her origin, we'll only be fooling ourselves. The veil of uncertainty that encloses her is a self-projection. The answer is right in our face!

She is a personification of faith. The darkness of her skin represents the absence of light, and within that absence is where true faith resides. The entire concept of religion is centered on the idea of faith being blind; you can't see your maker, but it doesn't mean that He isn't there. She is the eternal mother; the child in her arms represents mankind, you and I. Maternity is an obvious allusion to the greater good; man never bore children. The price of your life is her generosity, and suffering.

Therefore I believe that in order to fully understand the Black Madonna, one must gaze blindly into her.

Street Poetry

The walk light flashes go, so I go

At ease I keep footing with my music’s tempo

Each shadow is a chance for my eyes to water unseen

But each passerby wrought with paranoia becomes all too keen

So I flag closer to the bush struggling through the pavement

Just wanna cry one good time before I get to work!

But this problem still remains;

I never quite knew how to let the tears fall, even at my worst

So when they finally decide, they sporadically burst

But this morning is one of frantic restrain as I tramp over the lines

And call your phone for what feels like the one-millionth time

“I’ve figured it out,” I declare to the machine

And hope that I won’t only be causing a scene

In the last rushed movements, I disobey the signs as I cross the street

In my mind I detest how they try and regulate me

It’s not too late for me to cross, and it never will be

I ignore the cars that edge on as I bring my attention to this spindly tree

Its bark seems to be green in the city’s haze of traffic lights

And yet it remains a child of the Earth, a true marvel of all that was once right

Nature continues to prove itself as the true wonderland, forever more

…and just like that, I’m out of time. I have to clock in at my store

Calling All Good Guys

The classic Justine (Misfortunes of Virtue) written by the Marquis de Sade has been nothing short of a controversial novel since its publication in the late 1700s.

It tells the story of a twelve-year-old girl who sets off on the road to virtue, but instead encounters individuals who are corrupted by vice. For example, when Justine enters a monastery for confession she is snatched by the monks who reside there. They force her to be their sex slave, and proceed to sexually assault her. 

I've found the moral of this tale, although marked by Sade's provocative and highly sexual style, to be an ugly truth even in today's society. I was once told that suffering is a result of "living justly in an unjust society," and I find this story to be an embodiment of that mantra. Coming to terms with such a realization is the start of the end with good guys, who are said "to finish last," as we all know. They opt to create tougher personas to protect themselves, and will often rebuke their kinder side... 

I don't believe this to be the true solution.

I believe a great majority of our being to be purely savage and that it is the side that we indulge (as Freud calls it, our id) whenever we do selfish things. To completely become one with such a malevolent force is just as foolish as fully assuming a blindly generous personality. If one is too fiery all at once, they’ll only burn bridges around them until they’re left alone as an island. Do the opposite, and end up like Justine. She continued on the same road to virtue blindly, and was continually victimized. After trying to help a man who has been robbed, he offers her a position as a caretaker for his wife. He plays with the kindness of her heart, and only ends up using it for his own ends; he confines her within a cave where he subjects her to much of the same abuse that she'd encountered at the monastery. Getting burned more than once is often the price to pay for the virtuous, sad but true.

Anything taken in gross excess is never good for anyone. As a consequent, one should learn the art of walking along the line of moderation. One should do as pop sensation Lady Gaga urges, and “Marry the Night.” There is some sense to the idea of engaging our nihilistic nature in times of need, while being a generally just person. Or you can end up like Justine.