A Mayan Pompeii

Archaeologists find new clues why the Maya left 

A fascinating article in USA Today about some new archaeology digs in the Yucatan. Apparently the citizens of Kiuic up and deserted their homes in a somewhat orderly but speedy manner back around 880. They left, and they never came back.

The Mayan Mystery Train continues to gather steam as the 2012 end of the Mayan long count draws closer and closer, and I can’t help but notice that Tomás Gallareta Negrón, head of Mexico's National Institute of Anthropology and History, and co-director of the site, named the road to the elevated ruins “The Stairway to Heaven”, admitting he was a Led Zeppelin fan.

Thanks to an intensive education at The Secret Sun, I know that a “Stairway to Heaven” means something quite different to the ancient guild of stone-cutters than a cobblestone road.

“Roads? Where we’re going, we don’t need roads.”

 All it takes is 88 mph.

I can’t help but wonder if the Mayans experienced a “rapture” event, much like the senior citizens in the Ron Howard film 'Cocoon'. They also packed quickly but carefully, wrapping up loose ends and saying good byes as best they could before embarking on THEIR stairway to heaven. Terence McKenna predicted that a global UFO event would be the “capstone” of the novelty curve as it heads past infinity and beyond in 2012. Terence ate a lot of mushrooms.

At the same time, the “armageddon” asteroid meme is also ramping up. The carrot and the stick?

I wonder what I would do if a giant UFO suddenly landed on earth in 2012, warning of an immanent asteroid hit and offering a free ride to another planet. Would I go? Well... maybe. But maybe not if the price of admission was a sip of magic Cool-Aid on the tarmac. The Stairway to Heaven might turn out to be Heaven’s Gate.

Rainbow: check. Keyhole: check. Pyramid: check. Big G: check. Jesus: check. Twins: check. Comet and asteroid: check. Hurricane: check.

Rock the House

A few photos from the 7.1 (almost 72) earthquake in Christchurch, New Zealand.

Tiger Stripes

Had a particularly crazy dream last night:

I was an Asian Indian man (and when I say “I”, I mean the dream had a movie quality about it where the Indian was the character I “identified” with, but I still had a sense of my own truer Self observing events. The Indian was my “character”).

Anyhoo, I’m on a quest for a talisman, medallion or grail kind of object. In other words, an ego knowable manifestation of an Id/mystery concept, and I do find it. It is female and green and a cube (big surprise there, eh?), and I don’t really remember much beyond the fact that I was clumsy and tipped it over, and I recall sirens going off in the temple and outraged cries of being defiled or something. I thought it was being melodramatic, considering that I hadn’t even taken the object. I left it there, in its stupid temple. And I thought I was done with it, but had the odd feeling that it wasn’t done with me.

Later, I was in an automobile accident that required a lot of burn victim bandages. And when they peeled off the bandages, some had left a stain on my skin that couldn’t be removed, and the stain on my arm was exactly like a tiger’s stripes.

As for the question of whether In Flames nicked their “Jester” mascot from this demo cover–well, you’d have to ask the guy with the tiger stripe tattoos about that.

The Curse of Narcissus

One of the odder things about same-sex attraction is that not only do you want to have the man of your dreams, you want to BE him, too. It’s the Narcissus curse/blessing. Many an erotic gay story sees the nerdy protagonist transformed into the object of his own desire by some magical super stud. They both consummate their “self love”, as if a super model’s mirrored reflection came to life. Gay men tend to have a lot of personal identity issues, not being satisfied with the way we look, etc., and perhaps a straight man will never understand that when a gay man looks in the mirror he may see himself, but he’s looking for his ultimate erotic fantasy. Have pity on gay vanity, the mirror is a cruel mistress.

This highly erotic and admittedly adolescent fantasy is perfectly presented by this recent image at Brawny Stud. Somebody photoshopped their head (with a shit-eating smirk) onto Ronnie Colman’s body and attached a porn star cock. I used to do the same thing when I was a teenager with pencil and paper, only my No. 2 had even more imagination in the genital department. (but not the pecs... Dayum!)

They say that opposites attract, but it is hilarious how often a gay couple will be almost twin-like. Var and I are both relatively similar in appearance, though we are far more “alike” in psychological ways, which are ultimately more important. But not when yer jerkin’ off...

Note: What the...? Egyptian hieroglyphs in the background?

Gno H8

Saw an old Fiat 850 Spyder (8508) yesterday in Kirkland, looked just like this one.

Immediately afterwards a quick pit stop at the Kirkland octagonal public men’s room, and the guy who came in right after me had 885 printed on his t-shirt, and then, of course, I couldn’t stop seeing double 8’s and 5’s everywhere after that.

The 5 is the pentagram: Venus, Lucifer, Jesus, the Morning Star. Light bringing knowledge or Gnosis, in other words.

8 is “Infinity and Beyond”, more than seven, better than perfect. Super natural. And H, the strangely recurring letter around these parts, see The Double H Ranch.

H8 was the logo adopted by the anti Prop 8 lobby in California, and I have to wonder about the unconscious adoption of the HH/88 by gay marriage advocates in California, as well as myself.

Last night Var and I were dragged to gay Country Western night at The Cuff (local levi/leather bar) by a friend and we wound up having a gr8 time. Not that I will be endangering the dance floor again anytime soon, but it was fun to go back to a bar that I practically lived in during my 30’s. And you know, it hasn’t changed a bit. Times may change, but seedy gay bars are eternal.

Anyway, before the bar we grabbed some pizza on Broadway and saw a wildly painted VW New Beetle that I kick myself for not taking its portrait, because it was Morning Glory brand .... (don’t remember the product), and there were amazing vines of morning glory covering the dashboard and the exterior paint. It was like the car had become Audrey 2 - the plant from “Little Shop of Horrors”. See Little Shop of Miracles for all about that.

Rather strangely, before we picked up our "bud" after work at pentagram resonating Macy's, we drove through Seattle's Pioneer Square in order to "kill some time". Pioneer Square is the original "Skid Row", AKA landing pad of the invading alien plant genome.

The VW reminds me of Hitler’s “people’s car” (the dark side of the 8?) and the New Beetle resonates “new scarab” or perhaps... “new junk”. All covered in light bringing, entheogenic, vine and messenger resonating morning glory... the power of 5.

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Note to self: Trimmed this post way back from yesterday. Just because I have all kinds of stuff rattling around in here doesn't mean it all has to go down in one blog post. Stay focused!

Back in the USSW

The United States of Star Wars. Via Geekologie:

Rogue Leader Rebecca Crane went and created a map of The United States of Star Wars (or USSW if you're into the whole brevity thing), with a different planet/location from Star Wars representing each state based on similarities in geography and other factors like the kind of people that live there.

OK, obviously Alaska is Hoth and New York is Coruscant and Oregon is Endor. But get this... Washington State is Kashyyyk, AKA Wookieville! Find out where your state stands in the Union here.

"Well, it has big trees, in case your eyes don't work anymore." ―Canderous Ordo to Revan

"This place is wild and untamed. It stirs the blood and makes one feel...alive." ―Juhani

Given all the Sasquatch sightings in the local mythology, I can't really argue. But interestingly, I’ve lately come to consider that New York and Seattle are “twin cities”, mostly because of this poster: Sleepless in Seattle all nicely divided up according to phi.

On one side we have the phallic space needle and Tom Hanks, and on the other we have the Statue of Liberty/Isis and (Nut)Meg Ryan. Or the Beauty and the Beast - the left and right brain. New York may be the City that Never Sleeps, but Seattle is the Dreaming Mind.