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Fifty-First Sitting

Friday morning, the day before the end, I awoke. Obviously. The long night was over and the Very End was patterning my mind like there was no tomorrow. We had reserved a rental car, and She had gotten the day off of work. So all We had to do was get through Her single class, and as the afternoon broke We would run to the House `o Cars and soar the width and breadth of the state until the following evening, upon which I had a date with a plane.

I woke to Her alarm, which, though it was in Her room and not where I was sleeping, I could hear, as We had been leaving Her door open the past few nights as Las Vegas was away and, well, We liked to breathe each other's exhalation. She hit the snooze as I hit the coffee machine and moved on into Her room to shower Her with good mornings and collapse on Her bed. This former is a bad habit I picked up from my father, who for some whole years would burst in upon me morningwise singing some kind of good morning sea shanty, but at least I had the decency on this morning to stop doing it fairly quickly and fall into unconsciousness. She got up and We mutually wondered who was going to take a shower first, arriving at the conclusion that We were going running soon anyway, so there was no point. So We ended up with all this extra time, see... Did I suggest then that we could get a good thirty-six hours of necking in if we started right then and there? No, I think we just started getting our lives together... I did a little packing; She cleaned up as much of Her room as was possible. My presence represented a tolerable because temporary infusion of clutter in Her life, but She generally likes things at least neat-looking, and while I have argued that if a table has lots of random crap on it, merely pushing this into piles and aligning everything at nice-looking perpendicular angles doesn't make it any cleaner, and in fact makes it harder to find objects among the crap one might need, but these gestures only make Her laugh at Me in the same way I laughed at Her irrational resentment at My not getting Her that damn library book. I felt... well, strong... ready to suck as much joy and as many chapters out of these last two days as possible. Freedom of the open road! Yeah! Why, We could go shopping, or, well (St. Augustine of the Circle), go to more cheesy gift shops (I had to get stuff for X-Her, you know), and do the stuff We had actually planned, i.e. to the hot springs this evening (a popular recreational attraction recommended to us by the venerable Mr. Vegas as well as several visions in Our (collective) dreams... We had some fine (unrecorded here) swimming memories from the Midwest... Me holding Her around the waist as She swam great underwater distances in Chicago, I very sensually (for Us, anyway) burying Her in the sand, rubbing it on Her neck and face, at a beach in Indiana, Us floating with Our backs pressed against each other in the same inner tube... water is a swell excuse to get barely clothed and physical, I think... It's an elemental thing...) and to the North tomorrow... just North, on a road that's supposed to be fantastically beautiful stretching into the highest mountain peaks. From there, you can see the world! (...well, part of it, as there is this world-roundness thing... but you can see more if you bring a viewmaster viewer or something.) Can I say that I was "thinking how fun the trip would be?" Always the optimist, even if I'm predicting (as I am now) that the world will end in a ball of fire that won't be that painful. Hey, did you know that according to the startling revelations of Pope John Paul II, the next pope will be a betrayer of his church and Jesus Christ in that he will preach the tolerance and understanding of other religions and even probably not forbid birth control to the starving and clueless underdeveloped nations that frankly don't need any more people in them at present? If I order a special two hour video tape for $39.95 plus postage and handling, I can learn more about it.

"So John Paul, do you believe that crap about all religions possessing parallel mythologies that reflect the same underlying Psyche?"


Just so we're clear on how the Pope and my bastardization of Jung differ... just so you know. I'm of course keeping in the tradition of making Jung look more simplistic and hence silly than he is, all the better in getting me a higher Wise Man class rank. Buddha would be winning right now, but He seems to have disappeared from the four realms. Mohammed got last, but that's `cause He failed English. But what self-respecting religious figure wouldn't when they make you learn all that pagan mythology... Why, I remember having to write all twelve labors of Hercules on my pencil just to pass a quiz. But it's just not supportive of a solid rote religious faith, you know, to have to read all those outlandish stories which you can't fail to notice are mighty similar to so much of the Bible...

"Now in Proverbs we encounter a symptom of Greek influence which, if an earlier date is assigned to it, reached the Jewish sphere of culture through Asia Minor and, if a later date, through Alexandria. This is the idea of Sophia, or the Sapientia Dei, who is a coeternal and more or less hypostatized pneuma of feminine nature that existed before the creation: `The Lord possessed me in the beginning of his way, before the works of old... when he established the heavens, I was there... when he marked out the foundations of the earth, I was by him, rejoicing in his habitable earth; and my delights were with the sons of man.'" (Jung, p.550-551)

So God had a girlfriend, and while if you want to get technical She wasn't actually a separate entity, but just a duality within Himself, you can understand how He might feel if She went away somewhere... which She did, disappearing from scriptural literature by the time Job was written, at which point God had gotten "married" to the state of Israel. Now, Sophia was pictured as Wisdom, which is important, as it helps explain why Yahweh (we should be on a first name basis, after all) might "fail to consult his omnipotence" in such a dufus-like way. Making bets on how a mere mortal will react to something! The Man obviously didn't know the future, and hadn't thought much on Tripe either, for that matter.

But let's give Him some slack. He was upset at losing Her, He felt insecure (Why else would He feel the need to rag on about all His power? ...You only do that if you're answering some sort of doubt, in Yourself or another.), He had had little chance to develop any kind of sense of self, what with His being essentially all that was there, given that his "duality" was shaky enough for Her to disappear off into nothingness (or was it off into "the habitable earth," maybe messing about with Dionysus or something?) for a while. No challenge, nothing different enough from Him to be a little bit against Him... One doesn't develop values in such a situation: "He saw that it was good" doesn't mean "...morally correct," or anything -- how could the blind forces of nature be "good" in such a way? No... the Universe starting in chaos means Everything was Unconscious, and so He was primo DOG Alpha One.

Isn't it time for Jesus yet? Almost. So anyway, We especially should just give Him slack because He did try to improve... that incident with Job left Man one notch higher on the moral scale than God, and doncha think that would cause Him some amount of reflection and remorse eventually? Yes it did. And at that point, said Jung, God started to consciously pursue an effort that had already been cooking since Adam was created "in His image;" He decided to become Man.

No, I refuse to end a chapter sounding like a wacky Biblical scholar. Yes, I did start to read the Bible straight through in 5th+1 grade, but I only got to Leviticus before it got way too boring. All those laws and laws and laws, half of them clearly insane -- God telling `em to Moses and Moses repeating them to the people. Rules, rules, rules. Suggestions... as if We didn't have Our own shit to worry about. Now Zeus and them... they were cool... just fork over a calf every few weeks and they'd leave you alone and continue seducing young women by transforming themselves into tampons or something. Those were the days...

I think We need another DOG story at this point, don't you? Oh, it's not really relevant, and it'll only get you mad if you're just waiting for advancement of the actual plot, but it'll let me talk a bit about kids. I mean, I'm not going to make a big theme out of `em or capitalize `em or anything, but they do pretty much represent all adults' crudliness staring up at them, probably with thoughts of lighting stuff on fire. This is another Wednesday story, as I now remember Wednesday just fine. It happened before the Pez and the open mike night and the Jungian dufus guitarist...

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