Well look at this: actual newsprint. From Heartwood, a forest protection org. Newsprint, by the way, is far more compostable than the full color glossy magazine you might get from the more bougie environmental groups.
		Well look at this: actual newsprint. From Heartwood, a forest protection org. Newsprint, by the way, is far more compostable than the full color glossy magazine you might get from the more bougie environmental groups.
		Added “Sketches of the Goat God in Albion” by Gyrus to my collection of sources on Pan. Excellent essay with some good stories to tell.
Part one in [a series]. When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro. The passing of Labor Day Weekend means—to me, at least—the end of summer and the opening of Halloweentide. Never mind the heat wave. And what better time to launch something I’ve been thinking about for a while now? I am increasingly convinced that the only way forward in These Weird Times is to embrace The Weird.
So here I was listening to Sleep’s “Holy Mountain” while compiling a statement of cash flows when I decided to learn more about the band. One of the original members left? To become an Orthodox monk? And started what is surely the most metal zine ever created by Christians, let alone monks? Wow…
To be involved in the economy is to be materially implicated in corruption, destruction, and any number of evils. There are no morally pure enterprises. Follow the money long enough and you will find the corruption.
There is no standpoint of purity. What you can do, however, is keep your conscience alive. You will still be implicated in evil, but you will at least face the fact and do what you can. While it will never feel like enough, it’s better to struggle than to become one of the herd animals.
Sometime it really pays off to be a perpetual student of religion and the occult. Travel, especially, can be unexpectedly transfigured if you equip yourself with a well-honed sacred radar, especially one tuned to animist and esoteric frequencies. With this sort of spirit-tech in hand, or in mind, even banal and hyper-touristy environments can pack a spectral punch.
[… T]he sacred is in the eye of the beholder. I’ve also had convulsive epiphanies at Amsterdam’s Van Gogh Museum, the gritty bare-bones ruins of Eleusis, and a James Turrell Skyspace in Seattle. There is a lesson in this for the sacred tourist: the entire earth is filled with portals.
Lovely post from Elizabeth Oldfield on “the ordinary grandeur of the ways we love each other”
My “make things, not content” t-shirt gets a surprising number of compliments. The number of people who see the sickness in the usual mode of life online and the need for a more embodied experience is not small.
Two ecosystem services provided by humans: gratitude and awareness.
Martin Shaw, Bardskull:
They say the best way to die is to let go of everything. To lack a centre. To lack self-centre. That if you spent a life putting others first then it’s easier to go. I’m not sure I qualify for that sort of ease, but I think I believe the suggestion. And that’s hard for a pagan romantic. I love attachment, I adore it, I sink my fangs into the rump of attachment. I am sensualist, I am driven, I reach out to the world. And one day I will have to reverse that behaviour.
I liked this section but the book was too opaque for me and I didn’t finish it. Which isn’t to say it’s a bad book; it’s just not for me.