Ground Grape Ape and NF-1: Down the Religious Rabbit Hole
I got really ripped earlier.
Not, “hee-hee, let’s watch The Office,” geeky, yet I wasn’t playing-Call-of-Duty-while-laughing-maniacally-yet-why-can’t-I-get-my-Spotify-to-work-on-my-PS4 rocked, either.
I mean, at first, the euphoria hit me, pleasantly as I played the last few keys of the Shinedown song I’d been practicing. At one moment, I was still rather somber, weighing on keys and working on finesse, but then wham I was giggling while trying to learn the opening riff of Dire Straits’ Walk of Life with a church organ, because I didn’t know how to make that piping sound on my keyboard. Definitely not an accordion, I snickered, and tried another voice on my Yamaha.
She trampled down the hallway, and I randomly played the opening keys to the traditional wedding march. More giggling ensued, a celebratory acknowledgement of a time long since passed. A quick interview, yep, all is well, a frown from her, and silly grin from me, and I was back to my keys and my music.
That lasted about four minutes before the wave of much stronger euphoria pushed me into the living room; I definitely wasn’t up to playing, as my skills barely register as an illiterate musician, so I figured I would watch another episode of Al Pacino’s Hunters. About five minutes into the episode, I realized that none (or all) of the show’s dialogue and themes were too much for my current state of intellectual hiatus…or perhaps, just the flavor and vehicle.
Despite having taken a break from my preferred social media feed, I decided that I’d risk a quick gander, to see what the world was pretending to do through a screen. I was not disappointed: a few of my friends shared some entertaining pictures and memes, I browsed a few advertisements (Arm the Animals is such a cool line, but $10 for shipping?), and that’s when I saw some of the grass wasn’t quite covering all of my finely-laid mental pasture. Why, what’s this rabbit hole, and did I think it would lead to me researching and interpreting symbols in the Holy Bible?
The next TWO HOURS of my life went into a strange blur, all of which started with an article about the current COVID pandemic. As a quick disclaimer, I have rarely gone into society without a mask, and only recently have I started going out to browse in shops. I have read some of the literature, both science- and media-sprouted, and I figured that I knew enough of the danger, that I’d be aware of the key indicators of having contracted the virus. Uncomfortably safe in my bubble, and hey, if I had it earlier in the year (which, I suspect I might’ve, back in early February, before the outbreak), I’ll be fine. I’m past it. This article, though, painted a picture of a much more sinister plague, one that will haunt us for the rest of our lives (the world?). Well, that’s bleak. Then, I started thinking about The End, the apocalypse, Armageddon, The Rapture, etc. Woo, this is kinda heavy.
I went back to my bedroom, dodging visions of looking outside to see everyone dying, or the sky turning red and raining fire, or just demonic images…it was awful. I figured that I’d continue reading a novel in my room, try to shut all this out. As I reclined on the bed, a pillar of pillows supporting my head, I realized that my phone was still in my hand. I started researching the Revelation, and I started thinking, well, if nothing else, I can look in this for symbolic reasons. So I started reading.
Like most older, adapted, exaggerated, understated, passed-down and translated-beyond-generational-understanding pieces of literature, the wordings of St. John, according to the King James version were tough to digest at first, but as stated to the prophet(?) from an angel when he received the “little book” (Rev 10:9-10), the mouth will be sweet, but the stomach will feel bitter. I saw this as symbolism, and mentally applauded the author - it will taste good as you chew and savor the ideas, but once you totally understand that upon which you masticate, the reality of it will sit heavy in your gut.
Interesting here, as I close this idea for howling dogs at post-Independence Day fireworks, to consider that reality is always from perspective, even the perspective of belief. What I saw in a 400+ year old manuscript was a litany of symbols and allusion, akin to most teachings that I understand from my experiences as a Christian during my formative years. However, many others see it as The Word, and their very existence adheres to a holy plan for salvation or damnation, a choice, and the fact that hundreds of millions of people will undoubtedly choose eternal torment over paradise. The fact that this religious congregation is, in fact, further dispatched into smaller sects which interpret some passages as parable, and others as literal, serves to sow doubt and reap fear from anyone with the slightest semblance of insecurity due to lack of wholehearted faith.
Welp, I’m pretty sober now. Guess I’ll play some Call of Duty: Modern Warfare.