Who Is Worthy

I dreamt last night that I was suppose to meet Kelly somewhere to eat lunch. I was in Asheville outside of an animal hospital in the downtown area.

Suddenly two hunters came forward and spread out two enormous stags they had shot while hunting in the mountains. Monster bucks. Enormous.

They each laid their hunting rifles before the deer that each had slain. One deer, bloodied, began to rise up. I was aghast that it was yet alive. The hunter pushed it back down, almost with the motions of a stage magician. People around gasped and whispered to each other that it was still alive.

I wondered at this, looked again, and it was gone. I assumed it was taken in to the vet's office. I imagined it would be given something to kill it quickly. I was angry at the hunter for not killing it quickly himself; and then I wondered at the motives of the hunters. I thought that they must have had compassion to bring it to the vet. But then again, both hunters had put both bucks on display alongside their rifles before any other action. I grew up with hunters and hunted myself, though never acquiring a taste for it. I understand the need for hunting in the stabilization of wildlife population. And especially in light of the evil of the food industry. Hunting is noble, but not all hunters are noble.

I picked up the hunter's rifle who had killed his buck. I began examining it. The gun was well taken care of. I looked through the sights. I opened the chamber. It was clean and oiled.

And then Rush Limbaugh walked out of the vet. I almost didn't recognize him. He looked older. Frail. Almost like my dad did in his last years. I was excited and wanted a selfie with him. I'm a Capricorn. It is a weakness of mine to brown-nose people I see as having more influence than myself.  But too, I use to be a fan of his when growing up, many, many years ago before Robert A. Heinlein and Robert Anton Wilson cured me of any political maladies.

We walked, Rush and I. I asked if he was enjoying Asheville. I believe he said so. He was seemingly in a hurry, but being polite. The entire time I couldn't get my iPod's camera to function. My entire objective was a selfie.  It was as if my camera's function was being scrambled in his presence. We had walked across the street together. I still held the rifle in one hand. I set it down and a joint fell to the ground. A big fat joint. I thought that odd, because I didn't recall smoking weed, though I did, many, many years ago when I had no better thing to waste money and time on.

Rush seemed to suddenly be carrying a large dresser. I ask if I could help him. He didn't want help and his patience had worn and he had become aggravated. I had eventually had to admit defeat in getting a selfie with him. He remarked twice about how expensive his pics were anyway, if I had had to pay for one. He left, and as he did so, I politely said that I would be listening to him. He corrected me and said "watching". I repeated, "watching". He was highly annoyed. As he left my camera finally began to function properly. I wondered even in the dream if he had not been jamming it.

Here in this dream is again Ayin. My camera is my eye in some dreams. Whatever Rush represented, I couldn't see clearly. Even my own vision as I looked at my iPod was blurry.

I told Kelly about this. She mentioned that the appearance of stags represents "having strayed from my family's beliefs". That seems to me very apropos. Who better represent this than loud mouth Rush, whom I use to listen to religiously?

Whatever, whoever, visited me in my big experience has been visiting men since time immemorial. Why me? I hold no allegiances but to truth. Tradition means nothing if it is only for tradition's sake.

It is said the daughters visit only those worthy. To the profane, they simply do not exist. They will not reveal themselves.

This is what it means to be worthy: To stand before truth and know that you are wrong, your parents were wrong, your great grandparents were wrong, their traditions were wrong, their books were wrong, their interpretations wrong. I had worked through most of this and recognized the wrongness of it by the means of reason alone, with a whole lot of abstract thinking, by the time of my experience. I had worked by myself from Pentecostalism, to Calvinism, to Neoplatonism, with many world views sprinkled within as condiments.

And I was given the truth of this world in my experience. They are all liars. This world's forms are all false. That is the truth that the daughters reverberate down through the time's warbling corridors. That is why so few here are found worthy. They wash themselves in abominations. Drink abominations. Eat abominations. Are abomination. Their dreams have ceased and the stars no longer speak to them.