God is Everywhere; Let Me Hear Your Thoughts on This

(in reaction to CS Lewis’ thoughts regarding pantheism as unsuitable for Christianity’s God)

Is it not bit too contradictory to use humanity and human metaphors in order to distinguish God from us, and to rebuke the possibility of His existing as a fragmented yet omnipresent form of consciousness or will? The image of a someone with a human appearance holding up world in both hands seems such a medieval concept, one akin to images of Zeus, Thor and Lumawig smiting people with bolts of electric intervention.

Also, this separation connotes an extreme difficulty, if not an entire impossibility, of a complete union, as something to strive for, thus adding another degree of separation (pardon the pun; this is meant in all seriousness) between the individual and the omnipotent.

I am not claiming for the placement of man on a glorifying, self-idolatrous pedestal. I am just stating that we are human: as much as we value our ability to reason, putting God’s presence on the same level as ours, if not at least on a reachable one, is very empowering for humanity, in stark contrast to the guilt and self-persecution complexes that most religious thought systems have in common nowadays.

Fphat (or, “Ang Taba Mo Na”)

She claimed
to be stating nothing
more than a matter-of-fact
but she said it with such disdain,
such venomous disdain,
that even the after
math of the words conjured

images:

physiologically impossible
Barbaras
(Walterses?
Simmonses?
Williamses?
Any other American Idolses?
Ah, Robertses!)
tantalizing, tittilating
children with dreams
of the inedible, unreachable
waist (line? lying?)
and Feet that Weren’t Made for Walking
(and that’s just what they wont–to?–do,
for fear their heels look like clown boots),

of models,
spilling Victoria’s Secrets
(all the black and white of them)
to the world in the way they
strut: (a-one-and-a-two-and-a-three)
one-perfect-foot-in-front-of-another
so that their hips sway
this time captivating those
old enough to buy their
own underwear,
those who know
that they are deep enough
down the rabbit hole
when they slip
into size 23s that slip
off just as easily.

All this venom.
Such a many-headed snake.

Mead Lye F**k Rise Ease

All this stagnation is killing me.

Gazing at the Window Gazing Back

 (play the above song, then read below, slowly)

We drove in silence the rest of the way.
And I swear, My Bloody Valentine never sounded better
Than it had that day.

Random Blabbering While Waiting

Utilized last week’s rainy daze for finishing books, which means I’m finally done and over with The God of Small Things. Slow book is slow, until the last fifty or so pages. Guess that’s really how mystery and deep drama lit is supposed to roll. Got into a little personal dilemma about what stuff I should start on next. Ended up choosing Gaiman’s Anansi Boys because it was on my desk’s bookshelf right after I finished Mere Christianity (A Song of Ice and Fire don’t be sad, I WILL open your boxset sometime). Thinking if I should go back to Bettelheim (which I stalled on because it always happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time most of the time) or take a look at F. Landa Jocano’s anthropological study on Philippine Prehistory, as it might hold some academic water later on in the semester, when I go more into Philippine lit in English. Trying to move on with comics as well with V for Vendetta and completing the Sandman Presents minor arcs. V for Vendetta, every school activist should read you. Who knows, they might learn a thing or two about putting subtlety and revolution in the same sentence.

God, I’m writing messages about and TO my books. *screwed up*

***

Friuli Trattoria at Maginhawa Street never fails. NEVER. No wonder it’s lola’s staple restaurant whenever she’s in the area. Perhaps it helps that when it comes to Italian food, the simplest combinations are usually the best: cheese and garlic, cheese and anchovies, tomatoes and basil, tomatoes and beef, etc. That said, Tre Formaggi takes the cake, er, pizza, every time.

Those meat and ham and pepper and mushroom monstrosities of pizzas, they’re like those people who like driving around in cars Xzibit would be ashamed of: over-compensating.

***

Only two thoughts were on my mind when I was watching “Titus Andronicus: Tinarantadong Asintado” yesterday:

1) Putting metal platters around dimmed incandescent bulbs makes for a good starlit night illusion/impression.

2) Artaud!

***

I think listening to Radiohead’s Fake Plastic Trees on loop will get anyone depressed, probably after around the fourth repeat. Inspired me to restart my old project of making one of the world’s most depressing playlists. Still going through stuff like Neutral Milk Hotel and Radiohead to see if any stuff there fit the bill, though the aforementioned song’s looking very promising.

***

Hope I can turn this writing into money again soon. I’m really strapped for cash, and the new Transformers: Prime toyline is coming.