Confusion

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life (1915)

  Wherever this idea of a double may come from, it is not sufficient, according to the avowal of the animists themselves, to explain the formation of the cult of the ancestors which they would make the initial type of all religions. If this double is to become the object of a cult, it must cease to be a simple reproduction of the individual, and must acquire the characteristics necessary to put it in the rank of sacred beings. It is death, they say, which performs this transformation. But whence comes the virtue which they attribute to this? Even were the analogy of sleep and death sufficient to make one believe that the soul survives the body (and there are reservations to be made on this point), why does this soul, by the mere fact that it is now detached from the organism, so completely change its nature? If it was only a profane thing, a wandering vital principle, during life, how does it become a sacred thing all at once, and the object of religious sentiments? Death adds nothing essential to it, except a greater liberty of movement. Being no longer attached to a special residence, from now on, it can do at any time what it formerly did only by night; but the action of which it is capable is always of the same sort. Then why have the living considered this uprooted and vagabond double of their former companion as anything more than an equal? It was a fellow-creature, whose approach might be inconvenient; it was not a divinity.[114]

• From Another Country (1962)

  So, there they were, as the ghastly summer groaned and bubbled on, he working in order not to be left behind by her, and she working—in order to be free of him? or in order to create a basis on which they could be, more than ever, together? “I’ve got to make it,” she sometimes said, “I’m going to make it. And you better make it, too, sweetie. I’ve just about had it, down here among the garbage cans.” As for Ellis: “Vivaldo, if you want to believe I’m two-timing you with that man, that’s your problem. If you want to believe it, you’re going to believe it. I will not be put in the position of having to prove a damn thing. It’s up to you. You don’t trust me, well, so long, baby, I’ll pack my bags and go.” Some nights, when Ida came in, from the restaurant, her singing teacher, her parents, wherever she had been, bringing him beer and cigarettes and sandwiches, her face weary and peaceful and her eyes soft with love, it seemed unthinkable that they could ever part. They ate and drank and talked and laughed together, and lay naked on their narrow bed in the darkness, near the open windows through which an occasional limp breeze came, and tasted each other’s lips and caressed each other in spite of the heat, and made great plans for their indisputable tomorrow. And often fell asleep like that, at perfect ease with one another. But at other times they could not find each other at all. Sometimes, unable to reach her and unable to reach the people in his novel, he stalked out and walked the summer streets alone. Sometimes she declared she couldn’t stand him another minute, his grumpy ways, and was going out to a movie. And sometimes they went out together, down to Benno’s, or over to visit Eric—though these days, it was usually Eric and Cass. Ida professed herself very struck by the change in Eric—she meant by this that she disapproved of surprises and that Eric had surprised her—and the implacable, unaccountable Puritan in her disapproved of his new and astonishing affair. She said that Cass was foolish and that Eric was dishonest. Vivaldo’s feelings were much milder—it was not Eric who had surprised him, but Cass. She had certainly jeopardized everything; and he remembered her declaration: No, thank you, Vivaldo, I don’t want to be protected any more. And, insofar as his own confusion allowed him to consider hers at all, he was proud of her—not so much because she had placed herself in danger as because she knew she had. A French movie in which Eric played a bit part came to New York that summer and the four of them made an appointment to go and see it. Ida and Vivaldo were to meet Eric and Cass at the box office.

• From The Confessions of Saint Augustine (354)

  What, when I name forgetfulness, and withal recognise what I name? whence should I recognise it, did I not remember it? I speak not of the sound of the name, but of the thing which it signifies: which if I had forgotten, I could not recognise what that sound signifies. When then I remember memory, memory itself is, through itself, present with itself: but when I remember forgetfulness, there are present both memory and forgetfulness; memory whereby I remember, forgetfulness which I remember. But what is forgetfulness, but the privation of memory? How then is it present that I remember it, since when present I cannot remember? But if what we remember we hold it in memory, yet, unless we did remember forgetfulness, we could never at the hearing of the name recognise the thing thereby signified, then forgetfulness is retained by memory. Present then it is, that we forget not, and being so, we forget. It is to be understood from this that forgetfulness when we remember it, is not present to the memory by itself but by its image: because if it were present by itself, it would not cause us to remember, but to forget. Who now shall search out this? who shall comprehend how it is?

• From The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life (1915)

  According to Spencer, who upon this point, but upon this point only, differs from Tylor, this passage was certainly due to a confusion, but to one of a different sort. It was, in a large part at least, the result of numerous errors due to language. In many inferior societies it is a very common custom to give to each individual, either at his birth or later, the name of some animal, plant, star or natural object. But as a consequence of the extreme imprecision of his language, it is very difficult for a primitive to distinguish a metaphor from the reality. He soon lost sight of the fact that these names were only figures, and taking them literally, he ended by believing that an ancestor named "Tiger" or "Lion" was really a tiger or a lion. Then the cult of which the ancestor was the object up to that time, was changed over to the animal with which he was thereafter confounded; and as the same substitution went on for the plants, the stars and all the natural phenomena, the religion of nature took the place of the old religion of the dead. Besides this fundamental confusion, Spencer signalizes others which aided the action of the first from time to time. For example, the animals which frequent the surroundings of the tombs or houses of men have been taken for their reincarnated souls, and adored under this title;[104] or again, the mountain which tradition made the cradle of the race was finally taken for the ancestor of the race; it was thought that men were descended from it because their ancestors appeared coming from it, and it was consequently treated as an ancestor itself.[105] But according to the statement of Spencer, these accessory causes had only a secondary influence; that which principally determined the institution of naturism was "the literal interpretation of metaphorical names."[106]

• From The Confessions of Saint Augustine (354)

  Nor did I yet groan in my prayers, that Thou wouldest help me; but my spirit was wholly intent on learning, and restless to dispute. And Ambrose himself, as the world counts happy, I esteemed a happy man, whom personages so great held in such honour; only his celibacy seemed to me a painful course. But what hope he bore within him, what struggles he had against the temptations which beset his very excellencies, or what comfort in adversities, and what sweet joys Thy Bread had for the hidden mouth of his spirit, when chewing the cud thereof, I neither could conjecture, nor had experienced. Nor did he know the tides of my feelings, or the abyss of my danger. For I could not ask of him, what I would as I would, being shut out both from his ear and speech by multitudes of busy people, whose weaknesses he served. With whom when he was not taken up (which was but a little time), he was either refreshing his body with the sustenance absolutely necessary, or his mind with reading. But when he was reading, his eye glided over the pages, and his heart searched out the sense, but his voice and tongue were at rest. Ofttimes when we had come (for no man was forbidden to enter, nor was it his wont that any who came should be announced to him), we saw him thus reading to himself, and never otherwise; and having long sat silent (for who durst intrude on one so intent?) we were fain to depart, conjecturing that in the small interval which he obtained, free from the din of others’ business, for the recruiting of his mind, he was loth to be taken off; and perchance he dreaded lest if the author he read should deliver any thing obscurely, some attentive or perplexed hearer should desire him to expound it, or to discuss some of the harder questions; so that his time being thus spent, he could not turn over so many volumes as he desired; although the preserving of his voice (which a very little speaking would weaken) might be the truer reason for his reading to himself. But with what intent soever he did it, certainly in such a man it was good.

• From The Confessions of Saint Augustine (354)

  Dost Thou bid me assent, if any define time to be “motion of a body?” Thou dost not bid me. For that no body is moved, but in time, I hear; this Thou sayest; but that the motion of a body is time, I hear not; Thou sayest it not. For when a body is moved, I by time measure, how long it moveth, from the time it began to move until it left off? And if I did not see whence it began; and it continue to move so that I see not when it ends, I cannot measure, save perchance from the time I began, until I cease to see. And if I look long, I can only pronounce it to be a long time, but not how long; because when we say “how long,” we do it by comparison; as, “this is as long as that,” or “twice so long as that,” or the like. But when we can mark the distances of the places, whence and whither goeth the body moved, or his parts, if it moved as in a lathe, then can we say precisely, in how much time the motion of that body or his part, from this place unto that, was finished. Seeing therefore the motion of a body is one thing, that by which we measure how long it is, another; who sees not, which of the two is rather to be called time? For and if a body be sometimes moved, sometimes stands still, then we measure, not his motion only, but his standing still too by time; and we say, “it stood still, as much as it moved”; or “it stood still twice or thrice so long as it moved”; or any other space which our measuring hath either ascertained, or guessed; more or less, as we use to say. Time then is not the motion of a body. And I confess to Thee, O Lord, that I yet know not what time is, and again I confess unto Thee, O Lord, that I know that I speak this in time, and that having long spoken of time, that very “long” is not long, but by the pause of time. How then know I this, seeing I know not what time is? or is it perchance that I know not how to express what I know? Woe is me, that do not even know, what I know not. Behold, O my God, before Thee I lie not; but as I speak, so is my heart. Thou shalt light my candle; Thou, O Lord my God, wilt enlighten my darkness.

• From Talk Dirty to Me: An Intimate Philosophy of Sex (1994)

  Even by kindergarten the nuances of our sex roles are deeply embedded. It’s odd not to be able to tell a child’s gender at an early age, even many years before puberty, even though at that age the bodies of boys and girls are very much alike and both might dress in T-shirts and sneakers and jeans. We might tell by hairstyle, but as much or more by posture, where the hands are kept, how the head is held, a smile, the angle at which the foot rests. (These are exactly the nuances that betray the careless adult cross-dresser, the nuances transsexuals must learn and unlearn in order to pass. Compared to posture and inflection, makeup and hair are easy.) This ambiguous child seemed gay to me because the nuances were blended. Longish, soft hair—and an upright, balanced bearing. Hands in the pockets, and a shy smile. The direct gaze—and the quiet voice. Here was a child who seemed to have within himself, within herself, the opposite of him or her, and very likely without the slightest conscious knowledge. That blending is the essence of gay and bisexual presentation, and that presentation is almost completely a texture of the individual rather than anything put on. What it is, is not-straight. All blending softens the rigid contours of the straight. And how much am I just projecting my own clichés? William is in his late twenties, is thin, slightly built, bookish. He is smaller than his wife, Rebecca, a striking blonde with bright red lipstick who tells me she is mistaken for a lesbian from time to time. “I’ve always felt myself to be really feminine,” William says. “I enjoy being around women a lot more than men. And I’ve always, as long as I can remember, had to deal with people talking to me about being feminine. ‘Are you gay? Are you not really one of the guys?’ My mother was convinced I was gay—absolutely convinced. My best friend is gay, and she was sure we were lovers, and we were going to be living together, and she was ready to have him as her son-in-law. I had to say, ‘Sorry, Mom, no. I’m straight.’ That’s why I love living in San Francisco. I grew up in Colorado with cowboys, real butch guys, and here I look so straight! When I first moved out here I went to lots of gay bars, and I’d never felt so masculine and so butch in my life.”

• From Cult: A Love Story: Ten Years Inside a Canadian Cult and the Subsequent Long Road of Recovery (2013)

  She was always perfectly presented, with never a hair out of place or an outfit that did not scream regality, even when she was lounging at home. I learned that she had a grown son and also an ex-husband somewhere in her past. She was Austrian by birth but had immigrated to Canada at some point, exactly when I did not know. She never engaged in small talk and dissuaded those of us in her presence from doing so as well, because small talk was irrelevant to one’s spiritual development. So the snippets of information that I picked up about her life before she created the meditation circle were few and far between. I would like to be able to describe more about Limori’s character and personality, but the truth is that beyond the act she was putting on about being in God’s service 24/7 I didn’t learn much else about her. My experience of joining the group was like being thrust onto a stage midway through the first act of a play. There wasn’t time or an appropriate moment to ask for the action to stop, so that I could catch up and have the other characters’ motivations explained to me. It was all I could do to simply try to absorb the meaning and significance of everything Limori was saying and feel as though I belonged there myself, under the floodlights. There was an urgency to everything she said and did – the universe was already in deep trouble with threats from the forces of evil – so the underlying and sometimes overt message that I received was that we didn’t have time to mess around “getting to know one another” or learning at a pace that was comfortable for each person. The universe was in crisis now, now, now, and I needed to catch up to the plot as quickly as possible and set aside any questions I might have. Getting personally close to her was impossible. For one thing, she was constantly surrounded by a gaggle of hangers-on, each in their own way competing for her attention and favour; unless I booked a psychic reading with her, I was unable to get any one-on-one time with her. And, for another, she ensured that the dynamic in each of her relationships, including mine, was a guru–disciple paradigm, not a friendship. She had to be the person in authority at every moment; she could never appear to be confused or frightened by life, or bogged down by the gritty, petty details that we all encounter. She couldn’t have us experiencing her as just another sweaty human being travelling through life. She had to be different and set apart from the rest of us, while simultaneously giving the impression that we were all saving the world together. When I felt uncomfortable about our circle of chairs having a “top,” it was this dynamic that I was experiencing.

• From Another Country (1962)

  The male body was not mysterious, he had never thought about it at all, but it was the most impenetrable of mysteries now; and this wonder made him think of his own body, of its possibilities and its imminent and absolute decay, in a way that he had never thought of it before. Eric moved against him and beneath him, as thirsty as the sand. He wondered what moved in Eric’s body which drove him, like a bird or a leaf in a storm, against the wall of Vivaldo’s flesh; and he wondered what moved in his own body: what virtue were they seeking, now, to share? what was he doing here? This was as far removed as anything could be from the necessary war one underwent with women. He would have entered her by now, this woman who was not here, her sighs would be different and her surrender would never be total. Her sex, which afforded him his entry, would nevertheless remain strange to him, an incitement and an anguish, and an everlasting mystery. And even now, in this bright, laboring and doubting moment, with only the rain as their witness, he knew that he was condemned to women. What was it like to be a man, condemned to men? He could not imagine it and he felt a quick revulsion, quickly banished, for it threatened his ease. But at the very same moment his excitement increased: he felt that he could do with Eric whatever he liked. Now, Vivaldo, who was accustomed himself to labor, to be the giver of the gift, and enter into his satisfaction by means of the satisfaction of a woman, surrendered to the luxury, the flaming torpor of passivity, and whispered in Eric’s ear a muffled, urgent plea . The dream teetered on the edge of nightmare: how old was this rite, this act of love, how deep? in impersonal time, in the actors? He felt that he had stepped off a precipice into an air which held him inexorably up, as the salt sea holds the swimmer: and seemed to see, vastly and horribly down, into the bottom of his heart, that heart which contained all the possibilities that he could name and yet others that he could not name. Their moment was coming to its end. He moaned and his thighs, like the thighs of a woman, loosened, he thrust upward as Eric thrust down. How strange, how strange! Was Eric, now, silently sobbing and praying, as he, over Ida, silently sobbed and prayed? But Rufus had certainly thrashed and throbbed, feeling himself mount higher, as Vivaldo thrashed and throbbed and mounted now. Rufus. Rufus . Had it been like this for him? And he wanted to ask Eric, What was it like for Rufus? What was it like for him? Then he felt himself falling, as though the weary sea had failed, had wrapped him about, and he were plunging down—plunging down as he desperately thrust and struggled upward.

• From Cult: A Love Story: Ten Years Inside a Canadian Cult and the Subsequent Long Road of Recovery (2013)

  It turns out that it was essential for Limori to set up the group dynamic this way. One story about Limori clearly shows how she had to be the authority at all times. It was known as the Pear Tree Story, and became an extremely valuable part of the group lexicon. On a spring or early summer day, Limori and several of her inner-circle disciples were sitting outside in the backyard at her house. For some reason, fruit trees were being discussed and pear trees were specifically mentioned. Limori got up to walk into the house and fired a comment over her shoulder: “Pear trees don’t grow in Vancouver.” Consternation ensued. Those who were present were thrown into a fit of confusion because several of them had seen the fruit tree in question growing in Vancouver lawns and gardens. Yet here was their guru, whom they believed only ever spoke The Truth, telling them something that directly contradicted their own experience. What to do? Whom to believe? (For the spiritual student, it was a deeply perplexing and disturbing problem: the one who channels God saying one thing and one’s personal experience saying another.) Limori returned to the patio a few minutes later to discover this perplexity and confusion on the faces of her followers. When they explained what was causing all the discomfort, Limori laughed and agreed with them. “Indeed,” she said, “pear trees do grow in Vancouver. Can’t you see the lesson I am trying to teach you?” Everyone relaxed; Limori had not made a mistake. They could rest easy that she did, indeed, know everything. A guru must be infallible. She does not make mistakes and say that pear trees do not grow in Vancouver. She does not have bad hair days or feel troubled by an outstanding debt. She does not bring herself down to our level by complaining about her ex-husband or discussing the weather. A guru is on a mission from none other than God Himself, and there is no room in that job description for errors, miscalculations or all-too-human vulnerabilities like emotion and ego. In The Guru Papers Kramer and Alstad explain that authoritarian rule, by its definition, assumes that a leader knows better for her followers than the followers know for themselves.1 They further explain the phenomenon of this type of relationship like this: It would be difficult to surrender to one whose motives were not thought to be pure, which has come to mean untainted by self-centeredness. How can one surrender to a person who might put his self-interest first? Also it is difficult to surrender to someone who can make mistakes, especially mistakes that could have significant impact on one’s life. Consequently, the guru can never be wrong, make mistakes, be self-centred, or lose emotional control. He doesn’t get angry, he “uses” anger to teach.2 In my experience, this assumption of a guru’s infallibility is the cornerstone of all the other manipulative strategies for control that the guru uses.

• From Deceptions and Myths of the Bible (1975)

  “The edge of the wilderness” is the edge of the etheric plane, hence Etham is very apt. Succoth might well be succor , food, for it represents the plant kingdom. It is now the occasion celebrated as the Jewish fall harvest festival. 21. And the Lord went before them by day in a pillar of a cloud, to lead them the way; and by night in a pillar of fire, to give them light; to go by day and night: This, of course, is figurative language as is the sun that led Mises by night. Literally, it could mean that primeval cloud that went up from the earth, which is of the nature of light. And now they encamp at Baal-zephon. The name is a combination of two satanic gods—Baal and Typhon—and soon we will find them in the wilderness of Sin—an evil God of Babylon. These are but symbols of the lowest plane forces, and we too said they were satanic. 5. And it was told the king of Egypt that the people fled: . . . 8. And the Lord hardened the heart of Pharaoh king of Egypt, and he pursued after the children of Israel: . . . 7. And he took six hundred chosen chariots, and all the chariots of Egypt, and captains over every one of them (Chap. 14). In chapter 9 we were told that all the horses, asses and oxen died of the murrain. Where then did Pharaoh get six hundred or perhaps twelve hundred horses? In any other book such contradictions would destroy its authority, but not the Bible. 21. And Moses stretched out his hand over the sea; and the Lord caused the sea to go back by a strong east wind all that night, and made the sea dry land, and the waters were divided. 22. And the children of Israel went into the midst of the sea upon the dry ground: and the waters were a wall unto them on their right hand, and on their left. (These are the “waters standing in line” that Enoch showed Moses.) 28. And the waters returned, and covered the chariots, and the horsemen, and all the hosts of Pharaoh that came into the sea after them; there remained not so much as one of them. There was no mundane sea at this time; it had not yet been formed. This Red Sea is the red earth, in the midst of the cosmic sea, a wall on either hand, namely Involution and Evolution. Into the latter the life-force went and escaped from matter. Here the physical cannot go and so king Pharaoh “died”—and to this day he is known as “dead matter.” How very different from our sermons, novels and scenarios, and how little understanding the novices who write them—”unworthy descendants” even of the Hebrew Homer! They too but cull “mythic artifacts they do not understand.” If this story be literally true, what of the Egyptians? Were they not also God’s children?

• From Boys & Sex (2020)

  The two did eventually split up, briefly; they reunited after a round of rough sex in an elementary school parking lot, during which he choked her, pulled her hair, and, at her request, slapped her across the breasts. That was the first time Daniel climaxed without using his hand. “It was the best sex we ever had,” he recalled. Certainly, people have predilections, but it’s troubling that both instances of aggressive sex Daniel recounted happened when his girlfriend believed their relationship was in jeopardy. Daniel himself considers his behavior to be contrary to the intimacy he claims to crave. He doesn’t know whether that disconnect is natural, part of his wiring as a sexual person, or shaped by his repeated consumption of prepackaged fantasies. As another boy, a high school senior in San Francisco, put it, “I think porn affects your ability to be innocent in a sexual relationship. The whole idea of exploring sex without any preconceived ideas of what it is, you know? That natural organic process has just been fucked by porn.” We tend to believe that genital response—becoming erect for men, lubricating for women—is synonymous with arousal, but that’s not always true. Those are automatic physiological reactions. Emily Nagoski, a professor of health behavior who studies the science of desire, likens it to being tickled by someone who infuriates you: your laughter is involuntary; it doesn’t signal enjoyment. For men, the overlap between blood flow to the genitals and “turned-on” feelings is only 50 percent—which sounds low, until you hear that for women it’s a mere 10 percent. The fancy, scientific term for this is “non-concordance” and it’s why a woman can, say, orgasm during a disliked sexual activity, including rape: despite what Fifty Shades of Grey (or some politicians) would have you believe, that does not make her “in denial” of her secret wishes. Similarly, a man may be sickened by an image that makes his penis rise; that isn’t the biological version of a poker tell. Bodies react to what is perceived as sexually relevant, Nagoski said, not necessarily to what’s sexually wanted, appealing, or enjoyable (you can also experience the inverse: finding something sexy without having a genital reaction). When a boy gets an erection in response to scatological porn or a report of rape in his campus newspaper, then, it doesn’t necessarily mean he’s into it; his body may just be acknowledging something involving sex is afoot.

• From Dante's Divine Comedy (2001)

  Scope: In this lecture, we learn about three cantos that are at the exact structural center of the Commedia and that deal with one of its most important issues, the nature of free will. In the terrace of the wrathful, Dante encounters Marco Lombardo and they begin the discussion. Marco disparages Dante’s suggestion that the causes of our actions can be found in the stars and launches into a discussion about the nature of free will, which leads to a discussion of the nature of love. The discussion is continued over the next several cantos, with Virgil actively taking part as well. The discussion reveals how an absence of love, or misdirected love, leads to sin: In these cantos is a direct discussion of the nature of the seven deadly sins. Because love is the goal of the entire poem, a poem that ends with Dante’s encounter with the “love that moves the sun and the other stars,” these cantos are in every way central to Dante’s vision. Outline I. Canto 16 is the fiftieth canto of the poem, exactly halfway through. A. In a poem as carefully constructed as the Commedia, we should expect to pay close attention to clues provided by the architecture of the poem. B. In this canto, we begin an extended discussion of free will. C. This is a major concern in the poem, because without free will, the rewards and punishments of the afterlife would make no sense. II. The discussion of free will begins when Dante meets Marco Lombardo. A. We are in the terrace of the wrathful. B. Dante the pilgrim wonders out loud why the world is so disordered. C. He says some find the cause of this to be in the stars, that is, the result of a kind of astrological determinism.

• From Cult: A Love Story: Ten Years Inside a Canadian Cult and the Subsequent Long Road of Recovery (2013)

  She told us that we were all spiritual beings and in order to best serve God we needed to strengthen the spiritual skills that we had. We needed to learn how to be in tune with God via psychic communication – clairaudience, clairvoyance and the like. We were told that each of us had these natural spiritual abilities and developing them was a simply a matter of practice and diligence. Unlike sports or music or dance, possessing talent and/or natural ability were not important. We were all capable, she said, of communicating with our higher selves, our guides and, it was implied, God. For every issue (an argument with a co-worker, a recalcitrant child, a decision between a blue dress and a red one) we were invited to “tune in” to see what Spirit had to say. However, as with every authoritarian relationship, because Limori was the teacher, she had the ultimate say about whether the answers an individual received while tuning in were accurate or clear. Clarity was the ultimate goal for every one of us. Limori herself was the “clearest” of all, and we aspired to reach her level of clarity by defeating our ego positions and meditating as much as possible. But here I had my first experience of a double bind. For while Limori’s approach to teaching us seemed to empower us, it actually served to do the opposite. We were taught that our hearts, the centre of ourselves, always knew The Truth. This mantra was repeated over and over . . . and over again. “Trust your heart,” we were told. “It always knows The Truth.” However, another contradictory mantra was also drilled into us, from the earliest days. “If what your heart knows to be true contradicts what Limori says, then your heart is wrong.” So, always trust your heart; it is always right. But also be willing to dismiss it because it can be wrong. This was a means of control cleverly disguised as a spiritual principle and it was incredibly effective. We recited it to each other in Limori’s absence—”always trust your heart”—for it seemed so empowering. The phrase became an integral part of our loaded language. But inevitably decisions that we made, choices that felt right for someone when they “tuned into their hearts,” could be overthrown by a mere glance from the ultimate authority on The Truth, the clearest one of all: Limori. Under the guise of learning to trust ourselves and develop our relationship with God, we were actually learning the opposite: to trust no one except Limori. She gradually became the ultimate authority we all looked to for confirmation of our every feeling, thought or spiritual message. Double binds cause their own unique sensation in my body. I feel as though my brain has slipped a cog. All thought leaves my head and I feel slightly paralyzed, as though time has just stopped. Double binds contradict logic.

• From Talk Dirty to Me: An Intimate Philosophy of Sex (1994)

  Pornography, like prostitution, is a unifying metaphor for sex. Both these things fascinate and repel us at once, because they are bluntly about sex as sex and nothing more. Prostitutes and pornography remove sex from the arena of romance and love and directly address the libido. People tend to make both too much and too little out of both. A good example of American confusion over pornography is the movie Basic Instinct. As filmed, Basic Instinct fit the Motion Picture Association of America’s NC-17 rating—an adult movie made for adults with adult themes, not appropriate for kids under seventeen under any circumstances. The only other mainstream film with this rating at the same time was Henry and June. Widely reported was the fact that the director of Basic Instinct, Paul Verhoeven, filmed different versions of potentially objectionable scenes. He knew (and probably hoped) that the MPAA would give the film an NR-17 rating, at which time he could make a fuss, reedit the film, and squeak by with an R rating and a lot of free publicity. Obviously, many of the people who went to see Basic Instinct went because they’d heard about the fuss, about the explicit sex and violence at its core. No one seemed particularly ashamed about their motives, either, or unwilling to admit wanting to be aroused. A number of stories at the time of the film’s release explained the technical nuances of this breed of film-making: how the nudity and ripping of clothes was handled, as well as the slamming of women up against walls during sex, the so-called “lesbian kissing,” and, of course, the ice-pick-slashing-during-intercourse. All I wanted to know after seeing the film was why all these regular folks lining up to see this moronic and boring movie because they thought it would turn them on didn’t just go get a dirty movie at the XXX store.

• From Deceptions and Myths of the Bible (1975)

  The reason “no man hath seen God” is not because he is an invisible spirit or too awful to look upon, but because “he” is consciousness, and no man hath seen consciousness at any time, or energy either. It is time the credulous race realized that theophanies such as this occur only in mythology. We say such as this because there is a theophany, three of them, in fact. The word means a visible appearance of God, and the three are, first, a sun, second a world, and finally, its forms. We ourselves are a theophany, but theophanies such as we should not look for theophanies other than this. God is in what he creates. The account of Sinai is a wonderful story, brilliantly and compellingly told, but is that any reason why we should believe it literally? Elsewhere we said that knowledge of other races’ literature helps us understand the Bible. So is it with Sinai, Moses and the law. According to the Assyrians, Mises also wrote his laws on two slabs of stone. Dionysius, the Greek lawgiver, was portrayed as holding up two tables of stone on which the law was engraved. Minos, King of Crete, received the laws of his land from God on Mount Dicta. The Persians say their laws came to them in the same way. As Zoroaster prayed on a high mountain God appeared in thunder and lightning and delivered to him the Zend Avesta , or “Book of the Law.” What then is so unique about the Hebrew account? At a time contemporary with the literal Abraham, Hammurabi of Babylon delivered to his people a code of laws, that according to tradition, was given him by Shamash, the great sun god and maker of human laws. This code is entitled “Laws of righteousness that Hammurabi, the mighty and just king, has established for the benefit of the weak and oppressed, the widows and orphans.” Historically, not mythologically, this code antedates the Mosaic code by more than a thousand years, yet it is just as enlightened, and in some cases less severe, than the Mosaic code. In the latter, the law governing slaves reads thus (Exod. 21:2): “. . . six years he shall serve; and in the seventh he shall go out free.” In the Hammurabi code it reads: “. . . for three years they shall work ... in the fourth year they shall be free.” Commenting on the similarity of these codes, I. Elliott Binns remarks: “The variety of cases provided for is much greater than in the Mosaic codes, but where they deal with the same matters there is an extraordinary similarity in their ordinances, especially in phraseology.” Thus this older code could well be the source of the Mosaic code, not Jehovah. At any rate the moral laws are no part of the laws of the mythological Moses. There is nothing miraculous about them; they are but the codified morality of the age and race that wrote them.

• From Cult: A Love Story: Ten Years Inside a Canadian Cult and the Subsequent Long Road of Recovery (2013)

  One night while Limori was staying at a hotel in Richmond, en route from Wolf’s Den to Hawaii, Michael, Jessica and I were invited to visit with her. We were to keep the visit secret from the rest of the group, something I found upsetting and confusing at the time. My training about telling The Truth at all times collided with Limori’s wish to keep secrets from the rest of the faithful. I was torn between my loyalty to my peers in the group, whom I loved, and my loyalty to Limori. But, as ever, I puzzled over this contradiction only briefly before deciding that God knew best; if Limori said to keep it a secret, I should do just that. During this late-night visit, from 8:00 or 9:00 p.m. to 3:00 a.m., Limori referred to Gary only once, saying, “Gary’s energy is completely wicked [one of her euphemisms for evil]. And he conveniently only ever calls the hotel when I am not here.” She raised her eyebrows, implying that Gary didn’t really want to get hold of her so he managed to arrange to call her only when she was not available. “I’m not going to call him back,” she said. “He’s not worth it.” This was a typical comment about someone who had left the group, or was about to. Deserters were dismissed abruptly and with undisguised contempt for their disloyalty and for the spiritually fatal flaw in their character that had led them away from God. Gary, like all the others before him, including Sheila and Luke (who had left a couple of years before), was categorized as the worst kind of failure and spiritual miscreant. As Michael put it every time someone left the group, “He met an ego position he could not face,” and therefore had turned his back on God. No one who ever left was viewed charitably or with the compassion and dignity that someone on a spiritual quest deserves. We were always told that we had free will, but whenever anyone exercised that free will they were branded as a weak-willed loser and as someone who had decided to serve the dark forces of themselves and of the universe, instead of the Light. Gary’s departure left a void in the group. He had been Limori’s right-hand man locally for several years, so now Michael stepped into that role. Interestingly, though, Michael was not given the facilitator’s chair outright, as Gary had been. Limori awarded the position of co-facilitating the public Wednesday and private Thursday circles to Mildred (our sole septuagenarian member), Michael and me. Michael, however, was our only link to Limori. He spoke to her occasionally and would then relay information from her to us about what energetic things were happening that were supposed to be affecting us; her influence was such that we carried on with her teaching even though she was not there.

• From Little Women (1868)

  "So far away!" and Jo left her skirts to their fate, as if it didn't matter now what became of her clothes or herself. Mr. Bhaer could read several languages, but he had not learned to read women yet. He flattered himself that he knew Jo pretty well, and was, therefore, much amazed by the contradictions of voice, face, and manner, which she showed him in rapid succession that day, for she was in half a dozen different moods in the course of half an hour. When she met him she looked surprised, though it was impossible to help suspecting that she had come for that express purpose. When he offered her his arm, she took it with a look that filled him with delight, but when he asked if she missed him, she gave such a chilly, formal reply that despair fell upon him. On learning his good fortune she almost clapped her hands. Was the joy all for the boys? Then on hearing his destination, she said, "So far away!" in a tone of despair that lifted him on to a pinnacle of hope, but the next minute she tumbled him down again by observing, like one entirely absorbed in the matter... "Here's the place for my errands. Will you come in? It won't take long." Jo rather prided herself upon her shopping capabilities, and particularly wished to impress her escort with the neatness and dispatch with which she would accomplish the business. But owing to the flutter she was in, everything went amiss. She upset the tray of needles, forgot the silesia was to be 'twilled' till it was cut off, gave the wrong change, and covered herself with confusion by asking for lavender ribbon at the calico counter. Mr. Bhaer stood by, watching her blush and blunder, and as he watched, his own bewilderment seemed to subside, for he was beginning to see that on some occasions, women, like dreams, go by contraries. When they came out, he put the parcel under his arm with a more cheerful aspect, and splashed through the puddles as if he rather enjoyed it on the whole. "Should we no do a little what you call shopping for the babies, and haf a farewell feast tonight if I go for my last call at your so pleasant home?" he asked, stopping before a window full of fruit and flowers. "What will we buy?" asked Jo, ignoring the latter part of his speech, and sniffing the mingled odors with an affectation of delight as they went in. "May they haf oranges and figs?" asked Mr. Bhaer, with a paternal air.

• From Deceptions and Myths of the Bible (1975)

  And the Lord said, I have surely seen the affliction of my people which are in Egypt (matter), and have heard their cry by reason of their taskmasters (laws); for I know their sorrows (“The Sorrows of Satan” by Marie Corelli, Amherst Press). This God sent them down there and now blames the Egyptians for the consequence. 8. And I am come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land unto a good land and a large, unto a land flowing with milk and honey. Is Palestine a large land, and is the Negev “flowing with milk and honey”? No, this is the Life Principle’s evolutionary Paradise, the superphysical planes where it is free from bondage in matter. Its escape, allegorized as that of the Jews from Egypt, is but the Hebrew equivalent of the Greek Cronos disgorging his children. The coming down of the Lord here is the same as that at Babel, and as unnecessary, for Moses is all there is, and he is already down. Here in, not at, the burning bush he receives his commission. 10. Come now therefore, and I will send thee unto Pharaoh, that thou mayest bring forth my people the children of Israel out of Egypt. The children of Israel in Egypt are the planetary genes in matter, their bondage, chemical, and their release, Evolution. But Moses, like a good many others, wants to know who this High Commissioner is, and so he boldly asks. 14. And God said unto Moses, I AM THAT I AM: and he said, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you (Chap. 3). This confusion of “I AM” with “I AM THAT I AM” well illustrates a fact already pointed out, namely, that the Jews did not create their own mythology, nor did they fully understand it. The creators of the original myths were the older and more metaphysically enlightened races; from these the Jews picked up bits and made a metaphysic of their own, and a sorry mess it is. Thus they did not know that “I AM THAT I AM” is not applicable to the God of Sinai and the burning bush. “I am” is the indicative mood, present tense of the verb “to be,” and since the planetary entity is a being, the term could well apply to it, but the rest of the sentence cannot. “I AM THAT I AM” is applicable only to the motionless Absolute, not the Creator, and the distinction is the same as that between Melchizedek and Abram. As the Absolute does not act, it has no predicate, and as it creates nothing, it has no name in apposition save its own. And this is what “I AM THAT I AM” means—Be-ness, not Being. It is, and that is all that can be said about it.

• From Cult: A Love Story: Ten Years Inside a Canadian Cult and the Subsequent Long Road of Recovery (2013)

  Sheila, Limori’s co-facilitator, broke away from the group and formed a circle of her own, and Limori made the mistake of criticizing my mother’s partner, John. As I mentioned earlier, this was a common strategy on Limori’s part, but it backfired with several people, including my mother. She wisely and rightly resented the tactics Limori was employing to undermine her relationship with her partner, and by the middle of the year she had left Limori and followed Sheila off to another, short-lived meditation group. This was a tumultuous time for me; Sheila and my mother’s split from the group left me feeling that my loyalties were torn. Sheila and Limori had been an especially magical team to be around, both channelling Spirit and both working for God. The fact that they were disagreeing was confusing for me, and I wondered, “How could they disagree when they both have access to higher realms? Wouldn’t the spirits be giving the same messages to both of them?” It is a testament to both my naiveté and the state of my mind-controlled brain that I could not take a step back and think logically about this situation. It was two women with egos of their own, clashing about who was in charge. But the only answer to this problem that I was comfortable with in my black-and-white mindset was that one of them was “good” and one was “evil.” I landed on the side of the fence that housed Limori and my other friends. But it was especially difficult for me to see my mother leave, because I believed she was turning her back on God. My devotion to Limori proved strong enough to help me weather this storm, and in the summer of 1992 an opportunity came for me to live with her. She was moving out of the high-rise apartment building that she’d been living in for a few years, to a house she’d rented in a suburb of Vancouver. I was made an offer I felt was too good to refuse; I could live in the house in my own room, and keep my job outside the home. I would thus be part of God’s world and work but would not have to entirely let go of my regular life. This was an unusual offer, because those who lived with Limori, with the exception of her spouse Matthew, worked exclusively for her, although without pay. The three women who were then her personal aides had left their jobs and their homes and, in two cases, husbands, and lived a life entirely of service. They spent their days doing Limori’s bidding: meditating, travelling with her when required, working their fingers to the bone and generally making her life easier and more pleasurable. All this was in God’s name, of course, and they viewed it as an honour to be atop the highest rungs of the group hierarchy.