Until this morning I was not consciously aware of the name of the angel Metatron. No doubt I had encountered the name in my wide ranging studies over the years. But why is this being to the fore now? I had forgotten it.
Although there are a lot of references to angels in the occult and kabbalistic literature I have largely not focussed on them. Perhaps I have been put off by new agers asking angels for guidance. Some people imagine they talk with angels. I had assumed that angels, being lofty, were none of my business. They have more important things to do than helping mundane life balance for humans.
Various kabbala put Metatron at the crown of the tree of life befitting an archangel. “He” is on the central pillar in this depiction along with Michael, Gabriel and Sandalphon.
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The cube of Metraton comprises Da’at Chesed Gevurah Tiferet Hod Netzach and Yesod. It does not stretch down into the dense physical world of Malkuth. Containing Da-at or Da’ath it “touches” on God Immanent {Binah Chokhmah and Kether}. It contains the dreamer {Chesed Gevurah Tiferet } and the dreamed { Hod Netzach and Yesod (Malkuth)}. The dreamer and the dreamed.
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Clearly it has elements of the star of David – look at Merkaba above.
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The cube of Metatron spans the “worlds” of Briah and Yetzirah but not the active world of earth Assiah. Through the “thread” of Da’at or Daath it touches God. The idea portrayed here is to become at-one with God Immanent by following the central column. Manifestation is the lightning strike down, 1,2,3,4,5 etc, return to the Father is up the central pillar.
I have a translation of the Book of Enoch on the desk behind me. Sometimes Metatron is equated with the scribe Enoch.
The dream from after 4 AM this morning. It was a very wet and windy night, the sound of the rain on the shutters woke me from time to time. I have never been in a real physical plane casino.
The dream starts in a well-lit and busy casino. There is carpet on the floors and I am wandering through. I walk past the fruit machines and there is a sense of USA. The sense is not strong but there is a garishness. The noise level is high and the air is stale.
I walk past a table where people are playing poker. There is an unknown man in a cream / beige suit with a cowboy hat on. I can see his hand of five cards. All of which are red. In his hand there are two ace of diamonds. I note that this cannot be so. I know that he is cheating. As I watch he changes one of the other cards from diamonds to hearts. One of the aces also changes to hearts. I see him hide the ace of diamonds up his sleeve.
I continue my tour around the casino taking in the noise and the gaudy.
On my tour I come back to the same table. The same man is again there. Once again, I note his hand full of five red cards two of which are ace of diamonds. He again mutates an ace of diamonds to an ace of hearts. I understand that he is going for an ace flush in hearts. He will change the other diamond. He is trying to defraud the casino. I resolve to warn the house.
I go to the customer services area and a man with a tablet computer comes to talk with me. I tell him what I have seen. He says that they will look into it, implicit on CCTV and get back to me. He suggests that I walk around the casino.
I do this and, on a whim, I play a fruit machine which tells me in a voice that the difference is between Metron and Metatron. {See Google search below}. The fruit machine wins and the pay out tray fills with a multiple of chips of different colours. There is a side tray which fills with light blue square chips and small parcels with luxury towels and washing material in a clear plastic wash bag. Next to me is a middle aged dark haired Mexican woman and her bambino. She asks me for one of the towel kits I give her two. She threatens slightly in case I refuse but is very happy when I gift. I also give her a handful of chips.
I stuff the chips into my trouser pockets and the side munitions pockets of my combat trousers. I go back to the customer service area.
I am met there by a more senior man. He ushers me to sit down and asks if I have won. I say yes and put the chips onto the table. As I do this, they change into ones which are not of the casino. He stacks them and counts them. He is mildly threatening, unimpressed.
He says that they have looked into my comments on the poker game and found nothing. Moreover, they are unhappy with me using the wrong chips. I know that I have not done anything wrong and that it is he who has morphed the chips. He writes me a prescription to go see an optician. Its says that I am forbidden to work until I have seen the optician and gotten a new prescription. In the dream I know that this is a push back from the casino and that they have started to threaten me.
I take the prescription and walk out, resolving never to go there again.
The dream ends
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Metron is a fictional antihero appearing in American comic books published by DC Comics. A member of the New Gods, he is an amoral and neutral collector of knowledge. He is commonly seen in the Mobius Chair, which can travel across time and space.
Metron has been adapted into various works featuring the New Gods. He is voiced by Daniel Dae Kim in Justice League Unlimited and Phil LaMarr in Young Justice.
Metatron (Mishnaic Hebrew: מֶטָטְרוֹן Meṭāṭrōn), or Matatron (מַטַּטְרוֹן, Maṭṭaṭrōn), is an angel in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Metatron is mentioned three times in the Talmud, in a few brief passages in the Aggadah, the Targum, and in mystical Kabbalistic texts within Rabbinic literature. The figure forms one of the traces for the presence of dualist proclivities in the otherwise monotheistic visions of both the Tanakh and later Christian doctrine. In Rabbinic literature, he is sometimes portrayed as serving as the celestial scribe. The name Metatron is not mentioned in the Torah or the Bible, and how the name originated is a matter of debate. In Islamic tradition, he is also known as Mīṭaṭrūn (Arabic: ميططرون), the angel of the veil.
In Jewish apocrypha, early Kabbalah, and rabbinic literature, Metatron is the name that Enoch received after his transformation into an angel.
I am back to this topic because in some sense exorcism is not something that one discusses in polite circles, certainly not with a cup of Earl Grey and a slice of Battenberg. It might be spoken of in the dead of night to scare just before one gets out the Ouija board. In broad daylight many scientists might scoff at the notion and speak of psychological problems, delusions or schizophrenia. Yet to the practitioners of voodoo (or Voudou Lalwizyàn) the notion may not seem so obscure. There may even be a buck in it. There is a current exorcist in our department at Saint Brieuc.
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“Abbot Placide Guillermic, nicknamed Tadig Kozh, (born January 5, 1788, in Plounez, died April 28, 1873, in Bégard), was a Catholic priest and canon mythologized by Breton beliefs. Little biographical information is known about him, but eyewitness accounts mention the exorcisms this rector of Bégard performed at Méné-Bré in the Saint-Hervé chapel. Anatole Le Braz recounts that Tadig Kozh possessed knowledge of life and death, as well as supernatural powers, enabling him to reincarnate indefinitely, and to command demons and the wind.”
From Wikipedia
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Tadig Kozh performed exorcisms in a local chapel on a nearby hill.
In the movies the exorcisms are often dramatic, with profanity, bodily fluids and some garish biologically impossible movements. People possessed puke, piss and defecate. The exorcist is challenged by temptation, often sexual, by guilt and with fear. The faith of the hierophant is called into question and tested thoroughly. In general, there is some resistance from the possessing evil / demon which has some kind of anthropomorphic or zoomorphic shape. Rarely is the bad-doer entirely abstract. Sometimes the hierophant gets possessed to save others.
I’ll postulate that a fair deal of imagination is present and that may comment on the psychology and hang-ups of script writer and director. A good commercial director knows that sex sells so they would aim to include at least some nudity, preferably young and female.
I’ll speculate that those writing such material have not had personal experience either as hierophant or the person being exorcised. The theme music of such moves enters the collective consciousness.
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While things remain in the realm of imagination, they are safe if a little creepy. If, however, a rite of exorcism started to become reality, detached observer orientations might fade. If it started to dawn on you that you yourself or a loved one were in need of an exorcism, what would you do?
Would you call up the departmental exorcist?
Look in yellow pages or on line?
Answers to the question “Can exorcism be done by Zoom?” suggest that it is possible and also by ‘phone. There may be a fee. A perusal online suggests that churches do not charge fees {but a gift may be welcome post hoc}.
I am not belittling here. What is very serious in the life of some is very serious.
An alternative movie script is when a sceptic doubts and gets drawn into situations way beyond their ken and control. The arrogant sceptic is punished and shits several large bricks. Their end may not be entirely happy.
The general gist is don’t take the piss of things you don’t understand.
In scenes of exorcism with whom do you most empathize?
Are you with the priest, overcoming doubt to banish with the help of God?
Are you with the helpless and afraid family whose loved one is possessed and whom they love and fear the loss of?
Or are you with the demon telling the feckless priest of a non-existent religion to fuck off?
There is something vicarious and voyeuristic about watching a dramatized exorcism and not far below the surface are sexual overtones of possession and dominion. It could be said that portrayals of exorcism are a tad kinky. There are S&M elements to movie portrayals.
Any movie which holds the attention must be at least a tad vicarious. We might imagine ourselves Hermione Grainger, Sheldon Cooper, Thor, Lara Croft, James Bond or Wotan Wagner in Ragnarök. Unless we are drawn in, we do not experience the emotional engagement.
Which poses the question would you prefer to be exorcised or to attempt an exorcism?
I’ll speculate that the use of the word evil in its sense as an antonym to good has waned. To talk about evil is less common than it once was and that as a concept it is nearly taboo. Human brutality does not require any demonic influence it is bad enough without outside influence. The days when the churches could ensure bums on seat with the spectre of evil are passing.
In this sense it could be argued that evil has won, it is off the agenda and out of the consciousness. By subtlety and subterfuge evil has been redacted. The media when it broaches the subject uses the extremes of CGI to create outlandish portrayals. Whereas evil does not need to cause pustules and scars in those it possesses. They can wear neat uniforms, appear highly organised healthy and yet send millions to die in gas chambers harvesting their dental gold in the process. Evil wears, most often, a human face not a fictional demonic one.
We watched “The Pope’s Exorcist” last night. The film was heavily influenced by Catholicism and the iconography thereof, it even suggested that the Spanish Inquisition was the work of the Devil. Torturing people in God’s name does not resonate with the teaching of Jesus. It is not the work of a lamb. It suggested that evil and the devil, the demons, Satan, cause delusional and abhorrent behaviour in humans.
How simple to pass the buck and avoid responsibility.
I can watch films about exorcism without fear or empathy for the possessed and their family. I do not need to look through my fingers. Yet I can still be surprised by a sudden well scripted twist. I may jump a little but I am not scared nor shitting my pants metaphorically. I was not raised, indoctrinated, in Catholicism therefore its imagery and points of reference do not bind me like they may others. I am reasonably sure that I could attend an exorcism in whatever tradition without being scared witless, nor being overly sceptical.
I am not worried by the concept of devil or demon, yet I accept fully the notion evil as a concept and a force, a driver in the lives of some /many.
The weird thing is those influenced by and enacting evil are the most likely to deny that they are so doing. They are blinded. They have justified their evil thoroughly by the use of rationalisations and even precedent. Precedents are not always exemplar of good, beauty and humanity at its best.
I accept exorcism as a concept in that a being can be helped to drive out the evil influence which it harbours and gives succour to. Evil influence flows into a being, by the path of least resistance. Once it has gotten a foot in the door so to speak and is invited in by the tempted person over the threshold, the thin end of the wedge is driven home and the floodgate of influence can open.
Soon life before the “wise” guidance of evil is forgotten. The sense of cahoots grows. Evil knows well how to fertilise so that its tendrils root and grow. The light from before wanes and there is nothing to compare with any longer. The contrast between light and dark fades to grey. It becomes ever easier to succumb and justify each dodgy act. Malicious pleasure starts to seed and germinate. The temptation of power over in whatever flavour grows strong and less satiable.
To the eye of a seer the evil influence can be discerned. In cases of medium to strong influence one can see a dark black ink like tendril above the head of the strongly influenced being. It looks like a drop of ink in water. The darker the ink the stronger the influence. At this stage the evil is not well incorporated and is readily dispersed. Once there is no gap between the tendril and the form, the evil influence is already partially rooted. In some the influence is profound and it is aback the eyes where the seer sees. They have in their beingness an unpleasant vibe, somewhat cloying and suffocating. It is difficult to spend long in such presences without feeling drained.
If someone you know drains you by the simple fact of proximity, then chances are they are influenced by evil. Evil likes to feed.
I can think of more than a handful of people with whom I have had an acquaintance, who could benefit from a prolonged and profound exorcism. But of course, evil would keep them well away from anyone who might lessen its influence.
It is a strange occult fact that evil is always attracted to good. And that good needs encounter with evil in order to learn. Good tends to give the benefit of the doubt which is its Achillies heal and this is something evil learns in the evil 101 class.
It is an interesting metric to watch exorcism films. Where does your empathy lie? What frightens you about the devil taking your soul to toast in the inferno for eternity?
If you are impeccably pure of heart and deed, no such fear would arise.
At the moment there is a bit of furore in the press that Trump et al. are taking with Putin et al. behind the backs of Ukraine, Europe and the UK. They are doing this in the Machiavellian home of Saud.
People seem not to like this yet they talk behind the backs of others on a regular basis. It is a play straight out of the forceful manipulation handbook / playbook, cobble together some cunning plan and then present it to the absentee(s) as a fait accompli. Should they not accept they are branded ungrateful and non-cooperative even if they have to bend over grab their ankles and take it up the arse without lubricant.
The praetorians always know what is best for the plebs. The plebs should thank their lucky stars.
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Behind closed doors cabals are not inclusive. They may pretend and profess to be, but that is bullshit.
These cabals are part of what is euphemistically termed “management practice”. The 1922 committee is an example of behind doors stitch up. I have been on the periphery of such behaviours and perhaps on the receiving end of fait accompli. It is a Don Corleone offer even without the nocturnal equine encouragement.
Wherever actual transparency as opposed to the public relations version of that is absent, gossip spreads faster than Covid 19 at a race meeting / piss up. I saw firsthand on Twitter / X how misinformation and BS spread faster than a Los Angeles wild fire blown by a warm breeze.
A forced “agreement” rarely has longevity. A contract based on gossip and hearsay lacks solid foundations.
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I have never myself appointed a spokesperson or port-parole so if any charlatan pretends to speak on my behalf, they are lying. If someone says behind closed doors that they know what I am after, what I might want / like they are delusional, mendacious and manipulative. Yet I could not stop anyone from casting themselves as such. People may speculate, that is at best inaccurate and at worst dangerous.
Many people are so sure that they know how to sort a situation out, how to bring it to a close. Such premature omniscience is rarely able to hold back adamant opinion. It rarely occurs to these that they may be wrong. One cannot change the view of an adamant dogmatic by persuasion.
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Do you talk behind people’s back?
Do you make cunning plans without inclusive consultation?
If you watch with care the recent chainsaw video featuring Javier Milei and top bro’ Elon Musk exchanging a chain saw and gesticulating therewith, something looks odd…
Here is last night’s dream it has contextual relevance to life circumstance.
The dream starts with people discussing me behind my back. They are concerned about my health and longevity. They are trying to figure out if I can have a replacement hip fitted on the left hand side of my body. They are looking at X-rays and various, multiple, auto-CAD designs which may be possible without extracting the Titanium nail which is in it.
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They are calling up various designs and the discussion continues without my involvement. They are unsure as to whether it is possible and suggest that if they are going to do a staged bilateral hip replacement it might be better to start with the difficult one first.
Finally, someone comes to talk with me about it. They are unaware that I have been privy to their discussions behind my back.
My principle concern is that if both hips have severe osteo-arthritis it seems unbalancing to do only one hip. If they fix one hip the other one will only get worse and the wear on the fixed hip will be accelerated.
I awake.
I drift back off.
I know that there are widespread concerns about my health and longevity. I am being taken for a “compulsory” prostate exam even though I have had one recently. They are doing a Bilan or full blown health screen.
I am dressed in a blue hospital gown laid on my back and a woman is between my legs about to do a sneak sudden prostate exam. I say that would be stupid. Let me know and I will relax. I say to her that this is unnecessary as I already know it to be gonflé enlarged. They have made detailed high resolution MRI measurements of it.
Nevertheless, they want to press ahead and do their own full health audit. I relax. She proceeds to do a prostate exam and concludes “enlarged”.
We are having a bit of a warm and windy spell and the toad count in the pond has gone from three to well over one hundred in the last two days. They may be a mix of toads and frogs. I’ll do a rough tally tomorrow. There seems to be more females than last year.
There has been no disturbance of Coypu witness sticks for three nights in a row.
I don’t know if Trump is deliberately being thick or if Putin has some dirt on him. Lavrov and Putin have been around a long time, KGB / FSB are a tad more subtle than ranting on social media. The USA has a long history of complacency. They are cocksure and full of themselves. Then something bad happens which they do not anticipate and then they massively over react like an offended teenage gang member. I don’t think some in the USA understand that they are “tolerated” as opposed to welcome. BRICS must be well happy. A country which consistently reneges on contacts and agreements is not trustworthy anymore. The “deals” are no longer worth the paper they are written on.
Where things go from here is hard to say, but Trump is not winning friends outside the Kremlin.
I continue to have weird dreams on quasi-grandiose subjects. I would rate the chance of me ever sat at table with Uncle Boris as vanishingly small.
I have taken a view of non-intervention. In the past I have provided a lead for some people. I have noted that when I stopped doing this, they had no idea how to interact with me. It is funny, there appeared to be some kind of vacuum. They were kind of waiting for me, I did nothing so nothing happened. In the past so many of my attempts were rebuffed, I have stopped trying.
It is said that Bodhidharma sat for nine years in a cave staring at a wall.
I have kind of stopped inflicting myself on others.
I wonder what Trumpian soap opera will be in the next episode / instalment?
Wasn’t “Dallas” a thing mostly of the eighties? It is a bit old-fashioned.
The dream opens with Boris Johnson sitting at a large rustic wooden kitchen table in an ample farmhouse style kitchen with Aga and range. On the table is a pasta making machine. On two wire racks, one elevated and the other just above table level are two circular pieces of pasta. They are around 30cm in diameter and dried. The pasta is whole meal. The pasta is shaped into a kind of intricate relief design in which there are very fine, filagree designs. There is more air than pasta. I know that the designs are very brittle. Carrie is there but not to the fore.
I am sat at the table with Boris. The pasta machine starts up and a third pasta circle comes out in normal flour pasta. It slides onto the metal tray of the pasta machine. Both Boris and I know that the pasta is Boris’ puzzle to solve and that now it is three dimensional. He wants to get started and solve the puzzle. I remind him that the pasta is delicate and that the third piece has not yet set. Under no circumstances should he rush.
I look at his watch, it says 5:35. I know that he has an upcoming meeting. He looks at the watch and says that he must dash. Carrie pipes in and says yes, otherwise they will be late. Implicit is that Boris’ timekeeping is not great. They depart.
Sometime later I am walking in the / my garden. Boris and Carrie are eating a packed lunch with a thermos of tea in a sunny clearing. Boris is unburdened and light, somehow younger. The atmosphere is relaxed. They are the other side of a partial fence to me. On my side there are a multitude of butterflies, all different colours, yellows and purples, reds and blues. All the butterflies are large the size of my hand or bigger. They are partially shaded. Boris asks if the direct sunlight is good for the butterflies. I say that they are happy. At dusk they yield to the moths who come out in force.
I walk to a covered bridge made out of metal. The ceiling of the bridge is around ten feet high, and it is spacious. It starts near where Boris is having the picnic. A very large purple, indigo and red butterfly flies towards me and gives my face, which it envelops a hug with its wings. It is the size of my head. I can see its eyes and antennae. We start to talk in a very high-pitched butterfly language, with the butterfly now flying very close to my face. We are looking at each other as we speak.
Boris is astounded. I explain to him that I can talk to butterflies and moths. If he wants, we can help him with his puzzle.
In our times where once again brutality and coercion are to the fore, where people soap box to gain attention, where adamant dogmatic assertion tries to overcome and suppress considered debate, there are many who do not bat on their team. The gargantuan ego of ME swells and seeks airtime. Many a brutalist claims God is on their side and that divine will is aback their wholly “justified” actions. But at one level we know that this is bullshit.
I’ll postulate that the gobshite occurrence frequency per unit population has risen sharply in recent years and that the decibel count of their most welcome interventions is significantly enhanced. After all, where would we be without the benefit of their omniscience?
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I don’t recall either of these gentlemen advocating the use of 2000 pound bombs to blow poor, near defenceless people and their families, to smithereens. That is not the action of team Jesus or team Buddha. I don’t recall them ever mentioning doing “deals”, for mutual benefit. That is Mephisto talking. They never said love thy neighbour but only if he gives you a large wad of cash or rare-earth metals. Neither of these guys was conditional.
Viewed from more than one angle humanity and western humanity in particular is no longer bound by morals and decency. A “what is in it for me” mentality can be found on many sides. Genuine, as opposed to PR, altruism is rare. Sodom and Gomorrah would be seen as bastions of morality in our times. We have a president who allegedly knobs a porn star. There are many “leaders” whose legality is questionable. The corrupt get elected by the corruptible. There is a bit of a lads club.
We could re-write Matthew 5
Blessed are the loud gobshites, for they will talk over everyone and browbeat them into silence.
Blessed are the corrupt for they will slightly lower our tax burdens as a bribe for our collusion.
Blessed are the warmongers for they will enhance the values of our shares in the defence industries.
Blessed are the hypocrites for they will ban abortion but allow God like IVF. They have the power of life and death.
Blessed are the vengeful for they will stir our righteous ire to get our backing for their slaughter and death. We the just, shall prevail whatever the cost to the heathen subhuman hordes.
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I don’t think Buddha and Jesus have many on their pre-season roster, they cannot afford the salaries, the perks nor can they give big kudos and internet fame. They can’t offer backhanders and jobs for the sycophants, pals and donors. It is not their way.
Dreamyoga 