Mythic Detective

I see UPS trucks everywhere now, but this was not always the case.  Since the day I made a conscious effort to keep my eyes open for them I cannot go a day without a sighting.  Each time I am reminded that if we look for something, we will see it everywhere.  This is true of religion as well.  From the documented accounts of seeing an image of the Virgin Mary in a window, to the word Allah in a cloud, to the Hindu monkey deity in a tree, what we seek becomes visible.

If we keep our eyes open, specific objects, ideas, behaviors, and patterns emerge.  I can’t imagine how rich and deep Dr. Sexson’s view of the world must be.  The connections he can make between seemingly unrelated things is remarkable.  But this just goes to show, mythology is everywhere.  Once we are tapped into mythology, the world becomes a little clearer and connections and relationships begin to emerge everywhere we look. 

I am not capable of making all these connections yet, but I am getting better at seeing the broader picture.  I had an epiphany of sorts this past Easter.  I decided I would try an experiment after learning how common the dying/resurrection theme is in agriculture mythology, such as the stories of Adonis, Attis, and Osiris.  Every time the pastor said “Jesus” or “Lord” or “Savior” at the Sunday service, I swapped that word with “sun”.  And it was as if a veil was lifted.  Easter is after the Spring Equinox when the length of the day is longer than the length of the night.  Light has defeated Darkness.  New life is given.  We celebrate the “Son” rising during a sunrise service

on Sunday.

I realize now that we are not as different as we think, as we are led to believe.  We all have the same questions; we all have the same fears and desires.  We share the same emotions, the same passions.  We all have conflicts and burdens, insecurities and strengths.  And underneath the superficial layer of names and places, (you know, the boring stuff), our stories are the same too.  Our heroes, be they from the modern Western world or from the ancient times of Egypt, possess the same qualities.  They go through times of great hardship but emerge, against all odds, on the other side stronger, better, and with a story and message to tell. 

The meaning I give to the word “myth” has changed as well.  I used to associate it with fairytales, of ridiculous stories that primitive people somehow believed.  But now I realize that they believed in their gods as much as we believe in ours, if not more so!  Zeus was as real to them as Jesus is to us.  Allah is just as real to Muslims as Osiris was to the Egyptians.  A couple thousand years from now, people may be looking back at Jesus walking on water with the same incredulity that we view Apollo leading the sun across the sky.  As Ovid writes, “When God, whichever God he was, created the universe we know”.  Because whichever God we believe in, we come from the same on.

I’ve learned not to take too seriously the screams of damnation from those Christians who tell me I’m going to hell for the way I’m living my life.  If Heaven is full of those wackjobs, I don’t want to spend an eternity there anyways. 

On May 5th of this year, I will walk across the stage at Brick Breeden Fieldhouse to receive my college diploma.  I have no idea what I want to do with my life.  But I am

comfortable with this because I want to explore the world for “we shall not cease from exploration”.  If we always knew what was going to happen, life would be pretty boring.  I don’t need to know all the answers.  Because it is only at the end when we finally truly get it (in more ways than one)

About a week ago, my roommates and I were playing cards down in our basement.  The game came to a halt when a small spider descended upon our table from the light fixture overhead.  One roommate has a fear of spiders and bolted out of his chair.  The other reached for a nearby newspaper to squish the spider.  I acted quickly, and grabbed the paper first.  But instead of killing the spider, I gently collected it and brought it outside.  I then said, “Take care, Arachne”.

My roommates looked at me incredulously.  “What the hell are you doing?  It’s just a spider, why didn’t you kill it?”

And all I said in return was, “You need to read Ovid.”

I would like to thank Dr. Sexson and Jennifer for opening up this new world to us, one which was here all along, but we did not know how to see it.

Conclusion

I have taken quite a few courses in my five years here at Montana State - most of which I can’t remember.  This class is an exception.  Unlike formulas in math and dates in history, which seem to vanish from my memory as soon as the test is over, the lessons from this class will not easily be forgotten.  Every step I take, every sight I behold, every interaction and relationship I experience, and every emotion I feel is mythology.  What a lesson to learn and what a lesson to embrace.

Thank you Dr. Sexson for revealing the world to us.

Dinosaurs

In 1676, a professor at Oxford University presented part of a femur that was described as belonging to a human giant.  No one could wrap their minds around the notion that this bone belonged to an extinct race of huge reptiles that lived millions of years ago.  Back then, the whole idea of “dinosaurs” did not exist, and the best explanation was that these giant bones belonged to giant men. 

Well…it just so happens that more than two thousand years ago, Ovid wrote of lizard-footed giants who dominated this earth. 

“As gods assembled at Jove’s throne in state

He stood above them leaning on his scepter,

Shook heavy locks three times and once again

As land, sea, sky rocked with his weighted gesture;

Then lips grown thick with rage began to speak:

“We live in danger greater than the hour

When lizard-footed giants climbed the hills.”

Coincidence?  No such thing. 

Ovid’s Metamorphoses was written as history book, not as a work of fiction.  Look no further than his account of dinosaurs.  How did he know these giants were lizard-footed?  The account back then is more accurate and descriptive than that of an Oxford professor in the 1600s, who merely described the bone as belonging to a giant man. 

These “primitive” people and their stories do not get as much credit as they deserve.

Frederick Turner

What an honor to have Frederick Turner in our classroom today.  His credentials and accomplishments speak for themselves; his body of knowledge is so well-rounded.  It seems, and this is all relative, but people either know a lot about a little or a little about a lot.  I find Frederick Turner incredible in that he knows a lot about a lot and he understands and ties in varying and seemingly unrelated fields into his writing.  This unique understanding of the world gives him an unparalled insight and perspective on the way things are, the way things were, and the way they will be.  When he speaks, people listen.  This was obvious last night at the Museum of the Rockies.  You could hear a pen drop in that auditorium, or a door open…which it did several times.  I’ve never seen so many people look back in disgust at the noise culprit, offended that they had the nerve to break the silence commanded by his very presence.  That focused and attentive atmosphere is how I imagine the great storytellers of the past, such as Ovid and Homer, would have inspired.

It’s a shame we ran out of time today in class.

Speaking of time, in Frederick’s work “Brief Explanation of Time”, he writes about time being a nested hierarchy of temporalities, like Russian dolls.  Human temporality is the outermost shell, containing the simpler temporalities, such as those of animals.  If we all evolved from a common ancestor, how did humans evolve this unique and heightened temporality, thus distinguishing ourselves from animals, or “beast-men”?  What would the characteristics of the next level up in the temporal hierarchy be?  Can we evolve to that state?  If so, would that then make us something other than human?  Would we then be gods?

Displacement Story

Mark’s book report was due tomorrow.  He had never been to his high school’s library, but desperate times call for desperate measures and he couldn't afford to fail another assignment.  Three hours after school got out, Mark had finally finished his paper.  He wondered if his friends would still be at the park playing basketball.

He usually got a ride home with his friend Nathan after their social studies class.  Nathan was old for their grade, and one of the few freshmen in the school who had his own car. 

Mark tried calling him for a ride but Nathan didn’t answer.  He hated walking home –it was so uncool- but his house wasn’t too far from the school, maybe two miles away.  He called Nathan again as he walked through the gymnasium towards the exit.  No answer.  As he put his phone away, he heard some girls giggling far off.

Curious as to the source, Mark veered off his path and came upon a door which opened into a hallway he had never seen.  The girls’ voices were growing louder. 

He turned the corner.  It was as if time had stopped.  Before him was the greatest sight his young eyes had ever beheld.  Mark had stumbled into the varsity girl’s locker room and the Lady Tigers had just finished volleyball practice. 

“You pervert!  What are you doing here?!  Get out!”  

His eyes fixed upon the source of the screaming.  Fiercely staring back at him from the showers was the most wanted girl in school: Allison Brady.  She was the Queen Bee; guys wanted her, girls wanted to be her.

His friends wouldn’t believe this!

She threw the bottle of shampoo in her hand at him.  He ducked, but was sprayed by some of the water flying off the wet bottle.  He sprinted towards the door with the girls shouting at him.  This was the greatest day of his life but he knew he’d be in trouble.  Allison’s boyfriend was the captain of the football team and was well-known for being the jealous type.  No one messed with Rick’s girl.

Mark sprinted down the hallway and out the school’s exit, praying Allison wouldn’t tell Rick  There was no time to waste-football practice would be getting over soon. 

He ran and ran until finally his house was in sight.  But his relief was short-lived as a low, rumbling noise came up behind him.  His heart dropped.  There was only one guy in town who drove a classic muscle car.

Rick and three friends stepped out of his 1969 Dodge Challenger R/T.  A stray dog began barking.

“Allison told me you snuck into the girls’ locker room and were watching them in the showers.”

Mark was breathing too hard to respond.

“Get him!”

Mark took off running, but his exhaustion was too great and the football players easily chased him down.  With a huge hit, Mark was knocked to the ground.  The dog snarled in the distance as Mark slipped out of consciousness.

The Spinners

Athena, in the foreground, is using a spinning wheel whereas Arachne is simply winding yarn.  Athena is using a more advanced tool than Arachne, signifying the superior technology the gods have over us.  

The curtain is red, the color of anger, which represents Athena’s outraged incredulity at the vain of the mortal Arachne.

The cat at the base of Athena’s feet interests me.  Does the cat represent Athena and Arachne is her  mouse?  Is the cat a reference to the story of Diana’s transformation into a cat to escape Typhon, which could hint at Minerva’s transformation into an old lady?  Or is the cat a reference to Libertas, the Roman goddess of liberty often depicted with a cat at her feet?  As the cat is facing Arachne in this picture, this could be foreshadowing Arachne’s upcoming metamorphosis into a spider, and consequently her loss of liberty as a human being.

The location of the curtain is also important.  It is next to the elderly woman (Athena).  Athena has only one aid helping her and they are making direct eye contact.  There is some connection between these two

The aid's dress, though not exactly the same color as the curtain, seems to morph into the curtain, which she is holding up.  If the curtain was let go, it would cover up a third of the scene, including Minerva and the ladder in the background.  However, the curtain is held up, and the scene is unveiled, correlating in a sense to the unveiling of the gods imperfections.

It could be the lack of clarity or maybe just my eyes, but I don’t see any legs on Athena’s aid, almost as though she’s floating beside her. 

Here, this seemingly normal woman is not only maintaining eye contact with the great goddess, but she is looking down upon her.  I believe this body language says something.  Seldom do gods look up to men.  This woman could be a god to the gods themselves.  The reason she is pulling back the curtain is because she is "unveiling" Athena.  Arachne bested Minerva.  Thus the veil of awe and deference that humans had for this goddess was lifted, she was exposed.  Athena is also facing forward, revealing her face, exposing her as beatable, as flawed. 

Cats represent wisdom.  Wisdom that man is not entirely subservient to the gods.

Just as the gods punish man for their various transgressions, I believe Athena's aid is an entity more powerful that the gods themselves and set up this event to teach Minerva a lesson, to knock her down a peg, to remind her of her place by allowing this human, this lowly mortal to best her and humiliate her.

Note also how the ladder is not leaning or directed towards the higher realm of the gods in the background.  Rather it’s angled towards this mysterious woman.  So while the steps leading up to the back room represent the level of the gods, this ladder, which reaches much higher, represents another realm, from which this mysterious woman comes.  

Personal Initiation

For three and a half weeks during August the football team goes through Fall Camp.  While other college kids are floating down the river and sleeping in past noon, we have two-a-days, lifting, and countless meetings which can take up to 16 hours out of our summer days.  It's horrible.  Everyone's body hurts, everyone is agitated, everyone is sick of each other.  But by the end there is a bond that is forged and this bond is shared between everyone who went through it.  Only someone else who experienced the same hardships you did is capable of truly understanding and relating, and as a result, a team is brought together.

Initiation

The Satere-Mawe is an indigenous Indian tribe located in the Amazon. I first heard of this tribe while watching 'The Venom Hunter' on the Discovery Channel. Within the Satere-Mawe tribe suffering stings from multiple bullet ants is a rite of passage to initiate young males into manhood (Lentz & Nash, n.d.).

The bullet ant has a long syringe that retracts from its abdomen. The syringe injects the bullet ant’s victims with poneratoxin. The poneratoxin rates number one the Schmidt Sting Pain Index (Lentz & Nash, n.d.). In other words, the sting of the bullet ant is more painful than any other sting given by any other creature in the world.

To collect the bullet ants members of the Satere-Mawe tribe will sedate the bullet ants and weave them into a pair of gloves. When the ants begin to awaken, the gloves are then placed on the hands of the young man being initiated into manhood. The young men must wear the gloves for 10 minutes while hundreds of bullet ants sting their hands. Not only must they complete the 10 minutes, but they must do so without screaming out in pain. This ritual is repeated up to 20 times throughout the initiation into manhood taking anywhere from several months to several years to complete

http://expertscolumn.com/content/satere-mawe-bullet-ant-ritual

Tree Hugger

Three Stages

As we have learned, myths have three pretty simple parts: beginnings, middles, and ends.  Mythology is everywhere, for it is the precedent behind every action.  As a blossoming mythic detective, I realized that I have gone through two of these stages already in my Christian life.

A word that comes to mind to describe my Christian upbringing is indoctrination.  As a baby, completely ignorant and malleable, I was baptized. 

In the eighth grade, I underwent Confirmation, a process through which tough questions are asked, spirituality is to be found, and a deep devotion to Christ secured.   So, at fourteen years of age, we are expected to intelligently and full-heartedly pursue our faith, and by the end of this process, we are true Christians. 

What’s the minimum age to get a driver’s license in the state of Montana?

What’s the age where we can legally vote, purchase tobacco, or buy a Playboy?

What’s the age where we can legally consume alcohol?

What’s the age where we can rent a car?

I am not a developmental psychologist.  I am not a neurosurgeon.  But the reason we have these age thresholds is because, supposedly, up until then the human brain hasn't developed enough to be capable of handling whatever task in a responsible manner.

Yet, as a Christian the most critically important decision any of us can make is to accept Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior.  Once we fully embrace that, we have the green light to Heaven...in contrast to spending an eternity rotting and burning and screaming and suffering in hell.

WOW!!!  That’s a pretty big decision for a person who can rationally declare their unquestioned love for Christ but can't even drive a car down the street.

I suppose all that’s left now is the end, the Apocalypse, where the veil will be lifted.

The Creation Myth of the Thompson Indians of British Columbia

In the beginning of time there was only water everywhere.  Old One got tired of looking at all the water, so he came down on a cloud, determined to create something new.  When the cloud-now fog-reached the waters, Old One plucked five hairs from his head (some say from his pubic area) and threw them down, and they became five perfect young women, already able to speak, see, and hear.  Then he asked the women what they would like to do with their lives.

The first woman said she would like to have many children, be wicked, and pursue her own pleasure.  She wanted her descendants to be fighters, murderers, adulterers, thieves, and liars.  Old One was sorry for this answer.

The second woman said she too would like to bear children, but that she and her descendants would be good and true people-wise, honest, peaceful, and chaste.  Old One praised the second woman and pointed out that in the end her way would triumph over the first woman’s. 

The third woman said she wanted to be the earth, the place where her sisters and their descendants would live.  She would allow the people to take life from her, and she promised to give abundantly of herself.  Old One was well pleased with new Earth Mother.  He foresaw that she would nurture the world and then take the dead back to herself and keep them warm.  She would give forth beautiful trees and plants.

The fourth woman said she planned to be fire, that she would give warmth to the people and help them make their food better.  Old One was more than satisfied with this plan.

The fifth woman simply wished to be water. 

Then the Old One changed the women into their wishes for themselves.  The third woman lay down in the waters and became the Earth Mother on which we live.  The fifth woman became the waters within Earth, the fourth woman became the spirit of fire in all things that burn.  As for the first and second women, Old One placed them on Earth and immediately impregnated them.  “You will be the first people,” he said, “and from you will come all the people of the earth-male and female.”  Old One foresaw that at first the evil woman’s children would dominate but that eventually the good woman’s children would prevail.  Old One said he would bring together the five sisters and all of the people-good and evil, dead and alive-at the end of the world

All of this explains why there are good and bad people on Earth.  It also explains how all of us are directly related to earth, fire, and water.

http://books.google.com/books?id=9I62BcuPxfYC&pg=PA258&lpg=PA258&dq=thompson+indians+of+british+columbia+creation&source=bl&ots=4WQyOpg4iW&sig=xuk0kaqWre-KTqCqfomuPRmjnc0&hl=en&sa=X&ei=RqUvUbj0IYa0igKjlYCQCg&ved=0CGgQ6AEwBw#v=onepage&q=thompson%20indians%20of%20british%20columbia%20creation&f=false

This creation story comes from the Thompson River Native North Americans of British Columbia, told by an old shaman named Nkamtcine’lx, whose grandfather had told him.  I chose this myth because it is relatively close to where we live and learning about how people interpreted this area of the world interested me.  We all know the Hebrew creation story presented by the people from what is now the Middle East, but a more local version seemed more relevant.

I found this story in “Creation Myths of the World: An Encyclopedia, Volume 1”, and at the end of the story, the author says that “Old man’s creation is technically ex nihilo in that it is of himself…”  I don’t agree with this.  Ex nihilo translates to “out of nothing”, and the Old One created the five women from his five hairs.  He didn’t speak or think them into existence, but rather a metamorphosis of his hair into the women.  I would say this is a world parent story.  It is from the body the of the Old One, his hair, from which everything came.  

Dream

I wrote this dream down as soon as I woke up.  The sentences are fragmented and random, due in part to the crazy nature of my dream and because it was about three in the morning.  I was going to go through and rewrite the sentences so as to be more “academic”, but I figured the initial raw telling was the way it should be kept.  In the story is Vick Ballard, who is a black running back for the Indianapolis Colts.  Why he was in my dream I have no idea.  I know very little about him and I’m not a Colts fan.  Plus, in the dream he was a normal-looking white guy probably in his 30s.  Very random.

I’m flying in a hang glider, but it wasn’t going so well.  Going to crash, fighting and fighting…can’t gain control smash into the ground but then recover and am back airborne.  Out of control again, on the verge of panic.  Suddenly Vick Ballard takes over…I’m not him but I see both from his point of view and from a birds eye.  He crashes hard into a field and is injured.  We need to get away…we’re in hostile territory…but he can’t move, he’s too injured from the crash.  I am fine and know we have to leave so we go but I look back and he’s struggling to move.  There are two giant vulture bird things that don’t fly but are walking instead on the ground, probably half our heights with big beaks that can sense something is wounded.  We both notice them…they aren’t interested in me but they are eyeing and circling Vick Ballard.  I shoo them away and we keep moving.  But Vick is getting worse, slowing down…and the birds are getting bolder, smelling blood in the water.  We keep moving but Vick keeps slowing down more and more and every time I look back I see those wretched birds getting closer and closer to him, picking at him with their giant beaks.  On the last time I turned around to try to scare them away, the birds didn’t flee.  They stood their ground and I knew I had to fight them to save Vick, who had saved me by taking over the flight earlier.  Very tense…all of a sudden one of the birds attacks me and I move to the side and grab the bird’s beak, it was so sharp and hurt my hands, but with a great effort I ripped its beak apart opposite from the way it clamps down when it eats.  One down, but there were more of them.

Then I woke up.

UPS Trucks

On my drive home after the class where Dr. Sexson told us about UPS trucks, I made a conscious effort to look for one.  I didn’t know if I wanted to see one or not…after all, I keep hearing there is no such thing as coincidence.  What would it mean if I saw a UPS truck on my way home after talking about it in class?  Well, nothing exciting happened.  Despite looking down just about every street and scanning the whole ride home, there were no UPS sightings.  I had turned onto my street and was seconds away from home when I decided to check my rearview mirror, just in case. 

Sure enough, a UPS truck was driving by the street. 

I told my roommates about it, but they were less than impressed.  The response I got from one was a quite sarcastic, “Cool story, dude.” 

But I do think it’s a cool story and at the same time a bit unnerving.  A UPS truck just happens to drive by the second I happen to look in my rearview mirror for the last time.  No such thing as coincidence…When we start looking for something, or keep our eyes open for it, we see it everywhere.  I’m starting to believe that.

To Arrive Where We Started

We shall not cease from exploration

And the end of all our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started

And know the place for the first time.

Through the unknown, unremembered gate

When the last of earth left to discover

Is that which was the beginning;

At the source of the longest river

The voice of the hidden waterfall

And the children in the apple-tree

Not known, because not looked for

But heard, half-heard, in the stillness

Between two waves of the sea.

Quick now, here, now, always—

A condition of complete simplicity

(Costing not less than everything)

And all shall be well and

All manner of thing shall be well

When the tongues of flame are in-folded

Into the crowned knot of fire

And the fire and the rose are one.

From LITTLE GIDDING (No. 4 of 'Four Quartets') by T.S. Eliot

“If I ever go looking for my heart’s desire again, I won’t look any further than my own backyard.  Because if it isn’t there, I never really lost it to begin with!”

            -Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz