The Holiness of Lawlessness: Cults

I’ve been reading about how cults arise and evolve. In their early stages, they are marked by “apocalyptic enthusiasm,” i.e., unshakable conviction that the cult’s “messiah” will imminently “save” his followers by overthrowing the prevailing order and inaugurating a new kingdom—with either NO rules or, at least, NEW rules favoring the cult’s faithful. 

It is not entirely surprising, then, that this enthusiasm often manifests itself in brazen LAWLESSNESS regarding the current order—unabashed transgression of “old” laws and “irrelevant, oppressive, outmoded” legal conventions. All that stuff is viewed as fake and superannuated—something to be destroyed and discarded in order to hasten the arrival of the Golden Age. 

Usually the messiah himself makes a point of demonstrating this self-righteous, in-your-face lawlessness—as a kind of morality lesson for his followers, and as a gesture of contempt for enforcers of the existing (hence “crooked” and “disgraceful”) laws.

The Lament of an Ex-pat Iowan

My passport says that I was born in “Iowa, USA.” I am, therefore, an ex-pat Iowan, native of this town—Waukon, Iowa. When I was a kid, Waukon was a bustling county seat—lots of businesses, a first-run movie house, even a J.C. Penney’s. The churches were well-attended and the local farmers (like my grandparents) felt that their lives were “getting better” (indoor plumbing and telephones for the house, artificial insemination for the cows). Now, the town looks pretty tired, despite its single modern traffic light. Pretty empty. A few basic stores, but the pizza place burned down, alas. The schools are good, but once graduated, the kids move to Cedar Rapids or Des Moines or Minneapolis. Among many, then, there’s a sense that the “best” is in the past. (This is not necessarily true: the remaining population is pretty comfortably middle-class). But I understand the feeling of loss and (even) resentment—against, well, nobody in particular but everything in general—against the way things have changed. Trump and the MAGA crowd have tapped into this nostalgic hopelessness with promises of miraculous resurrection. Ultimately, of course, no messiah is going to bring Penney’s back to Main Street or crowds back to the First Presbyterian Church. Spilt milk can be wiped up, but not rebottled. Still, Trump (and nostalgia) won last night in Iowa—bigly. As an ex-pat Iowan, I am very sad. 😞 

The Gods Accuse Christians of Cultural Appropriation

A number of us pagan gods are quite put out with this new-fangled celebration of “Christmas.” We have nothing against the new god, Jesus, who decided to have a birthday around the same date that we have long held OUR celebrations. He seems friendly enough (though he lacks fashion sense), and at first we didn’t mind sharing the Winter Solstice with him. But, honestly, this guy’s FOLLOWERS have proved to be quite insufferable “pains in the a$$.” 

These uppity parvenus dare belittle us, insisting that WE wish THEM “Merry Christmas”—while at the same time they have unabashedly stolen all of OUR beloved pagan customs and traditions to use as embellishments for THEIR drab little barnyard birthday party which, thus gussied up, they call “Christmas.” Indoor evergreen trees, holly, ivy, mistletoe, gift exchanges, burning logs, elves, fairy lights, jolly beverages, singing in the streets, flying animals pulling chariots—they’ve just snatched it all—without the slightest thanks or acknowledgment. 

Enough! This is clearly an egregious and shameful example of CULTURAL APPROPRIATION. Very bad form. We old gods want the world to know that we are most seriously displeased by the disgraceful and ungodly behavior of so-called “Christians” celebrating so-called “Christmas.” Show us some respect! Make Yuletide and Saturnalia Great Again! Signed: Odin, Saturn, Yule, Sol, Mithra, et.al.

Bad Guys

I find it nearly impossible to speak intelligently—or even intelligibly—about the Israeli/Palestinian conflict. It seems that there are no good guys—only “reluctant” bad guys on both sides who believe—sincerely for the most part— that they have no other choice (i.e., the only “good” thing they can do in this impasse is to commit what are normally condemned as “bad” acts—in the pious but delusional hope that these bad acts will somehow bring about a “good” outcome—or, at least a situation no worse than the status quo ante.)

Oddly, or perhaps just distressingly, 

this moral dissonance is precisely 

what so “appeals” to the rest of the

world and why such great swarms of people everywhere want to participate, on one (bad) side or the other (bad) side—albeit mostly vicariously, in marches and rallies. Human beings just LOVE to feel good about doing bad stuff—or cheering for others who do bad stuff—especially if there are no painful consequences. 

Don’t get me wrong: I’m sure that many of the pro-Israel or pro-Palestine demonstrators honestly believe that their side is “good” in some absolute, universal sense. But the evidence on the ground suggests otherwise. The facts point to a brutal, unending conflict between self-perceived good people (Israelis and Palestinians alike) who have nevertheless committed themselves to being bad guys in perpetuity, all in order to keep things from getting even worse.  This hallucinatory narrative strikes me, former teacher of both Macbeth and Slaughterhouse Five, as a quintessential “tale told by an idiot, signifying nothing.” Poo tee weet? 

Continuous War

I think this is pretty much what all the parties to Israeli/Palestinian conflict—including the U.S.—have tacitly (although never openly) decided. Because, as long as the war goes on, as long as no-one actually “wins,” then everybody on both sides can continue to think of themselves as “good” and “right” and “justified,” without having to actually CHANGE (i.e, make painful or humiliating or costly accommodations to reality). The price for this “virtuous continuity” is the endless bloodshed that somehow seems less awful than modifying or abandoning barbarous policies “sanctified” by religious assumptions. It’s inhumane and yet, so very human. 

Conspiracies and Chaos

I recently saw this comment in the NYT: “The fault in the conspiracy theories is the assumption that the world isn’t chaotic but highly organized.” I agree. People who believe in vast, apocalyptic conspiracies (e.g. RFK, Jr. and his devotees) all seem to be invested in the dubious but comforting notion that “it all makes sense,” that the universe (and human civilization) have been set up by some great mastermind who has a plan (you know, the “arc of history or the moral universe”) and that various nefarious “conspiracies”—all carefully orchestrated and coordinated amongst themselves—have been erected by diabolic forces opposed to this beneficent master plan. 

In my view, that’s rubbish. Granted, there are apparently some universal laws that apply to the material world (though no one seems to know by whom or for what “reason” they were thus established). But in the moral and social context of human interaction, that just ain’t the case. Plots and conspiracies spring up, succeed or are thwarted, but I see no evidence that there’s a supreme Wizard—or, frankly, anyone at all—in charge of much of anything, especially ultimate outcomes. So, no, it doesn’t “all make sense.” Rather, it seems to me that life’s messiness is an inherent element of the universal (and nonsensical) chaos through which we must navigate using our very, VERY limited faculties.

It’s true of course, that we CAN act—within certain circumscribed limits—to oppose individual plots whose means and ends are identifiable and which we judge dangerous to the general welfare. But the measures we take must be carefully tailored to unravel the specific plot’s very specific  weave.There is no one-size-fits-all solution that can somehow “restore” the perfection of a desired but non-existent master plan.

 In short, RFK’s magical formula to “Reclaim Our Democracy” amounts to little more than a variation of Trump’s MAGA scheme—slightly retooled for chimerical Democrats, but equally vacuous and equally delusional. Because, let’s face it, if there is no grand plan to be “saved” (and there isn’t), then “saviors” like Trump and RFK are either charlatans and/or raving nutters—false prophets peddling snake-oil salvation to a credulous populace.

No, the chaos portrayed above by Hieronymous Bosch will undoubtedly persist. Paradise IS lost. (Say, is that a nun inside a fish? Woah!)

Keep the Crown, Remove the King

 

The British definitely need to keep The Crown. The “Crown,” after all, is the distilled, disembodied, platonic essence of the British Constitution—the whole unwritten congeries of traditions, conventions, ceremonies and mythologies that provides order and  cohesiveness to the nation. But what they no longer need, really, is an actual flesh-and-blood monarch, with all his/her imperfections, inadequacies, and personal quirks (what Plato called “accidental properties”). This is so because, aside from allowing the citizenry to “visualize” and venerate the Constitution, any particular “fleshly” king/queen no longer actually plays any necessary role in the governance of the realm.

On the contrary, as we inevitably see, any “real” human beings, assigned by heredity to the daunting task of incarnating (but without thinking or feeling) the ideal “forms” of The Crown, often waste a great deal of money and time in constitutionally useless or irrelevant activities, stuff that keeps them busy and, frankly, non-suicidal. In their trivial and human pursuits, they even, sometimes, bring opprobrium upon themselves and thus make people—especially those who read The Sun—lose respect for The Crown itself.

I’d like to suggest that the solution to this dilemma might be illustrated in the photo at the top: eliminate the particular, mortal player (i.e., in platonic terms, the “accidental” properties of The Crown) and replace this imperfect vessel with something having no fleshly body at all—only the “essential” properties. I took this picture of a float in a grandiose Corpus Christi procession in Barcelona. You will note that the object for veneration is—not a material, pinchable Jesus—but rather an idealized “Body of Christ,” encapsulated in a consecrated wafer, itself enshrined in a bejeweled tabernacle, and the whole edifice mounted on an gilded throne beneath a brocade canopy. At various moments along the parade route, certain liturgical ceremonies were performed by the priests—in particular, I recall, the entire assemblage was perfumed with incense as a sign of veneration. Not so much of a particular being—but of the idealized Corpus Christi somehow abiding in that metal monstrance.

I don’t know how many of the procession’s observers were devout Catholics (I, for instance, was not), but really, it doesn’t matter: we were all impressed by the pomp and solemnity of the proceedings and we were all thus invited to recall and reflect upon the essential FORMS of Christian belief that were here represented in an impersonal and metaphoric artefact.

That is what I propose for Britain. Ditch the actual royal family—they’re mostly a tedious anachronism who tend to piss people off (true, Elizabeth tried mightily to be an entirely robotic vessel, but even she had an annus horibilis). Only, by all means, keep The Crown—i.e., all the ceremonies, conventions and rituals that connect (almost sacramentally) the British people with their constitutional heritage. But do as the Catholics have done: replace the “accidental” body of a king with a vaguely tangible, but impersonally metaphoric, representation of the king’s meaning. Perhaps, for example, in lieu of a rather dorky human, an actual crown —St. Edward’s crown, say—could be incensed, anointed, placed upon the Coronation Chair and sworn allegiance to. (Please, though, only one “Crowning of the Crown” per generation.) And at the opening of Parliament, this artefact  representing the Constitution could be placed on the throne, and the actual dreadful King’s Speech could be read by the person guilty of writing it—the Prime Minister in person. Black Rod and all that—well, it’s sacramental. Keep it. It points to basic British dogma—like the bell in the Mass points to basic Catholic belief.

And keep the State Coach to ferry about this sacramental crown. It’s more impressive than a float in a Corpus Christi parade, IMO.

P.S. This post is entirely tongue-in-cheek and NOT intended to offend. I am not British, and I have absolutely NO qualifications for proposing political reforms in the U.K. I was merely struck by how tidily the Catholics have managed to celebrate the essence of their heavenly kingdom by tucking it beneath the appearance of an innocuous piece of bread: no personal presence of any king (though I do remember the insistence that he is still “really “ there.) I just wondered if the British couldn’t do likewise and frustrate forever the tabloid press. What possible scandals could they find in the conduct or opinions of an innocuous piece of metal, even if it is The Crown?