You know what? A battle is going on all around us in our time, harbinger of a monumental paradigm shift, maybe the biggest in recorded history—and I'll bet you're sleeping through it. Awake! As a sort of Gnostic, that's my message, in case you hadn't noticed. I keep trying. Not repent, but wake up! That's what I say these days..
It's not what you think. It's not that favorite rant of mine, Democrats vs Republicans (though that's real enough), or even the trumped-up war of Islam vs Christianity. And no, neither do I refer to that older struggle between capitalism and communism, or even the nonsense of Fox News, about truly patriotic and godly conservatives taking on the Big Bad Liberals. These are minor skirmishes, spin-offs, battles in a more elemental ongoing war.
It is the war for the mind and heart of humankind between two completely different versions of reality: the masculine, or patriarchal version, which material science, most contemporary philosophy, and most modern art represents, and which holds human beings to be driven dying animals in a random universe; and that vision of humankind's essential divine destiny that mystics of all spiritual traditions throughout history have struggled to keep alive. (cf Andrew Harvey, The Return of the Mother)
Or, put it another way: the battle is between patriarchy and mysticism. The struggle is between Left Brain and Right Brain. Or better yet, between Male and Female. It's that basic.
Maybe now you know what I mean by The Return of the Goddess. We are approaching an age of post-literacy, to mention just one pretty damned major side effect of this thing we're living through. Books and words, Rationalism, the alphabet itself, were part of the old masculine order. The Goddess is said to prefer the oral, the visual, images, movies, videos (poking at cell phones, watching YouTube?). I'm having a hard time with this because I have loved books. I lament the closing of so many beautiful old bookstores. But maybe I myself need to be re-processed. That's coming up.
The sacred marriage of the masculine with the feminine has to take place in all our hearts and minds, whether we are male or female. The tragic imbalance of the masculine has brought humankind to the point of disaster. Turn on your television set and take a new look at all those big brave blue-shirted cops standing in a phalanx in Baltimore, facing off the crowd so arrogantly, there to defend the liquor store, the CVS Pharmacy, the property, the money of the male power structure. Unless we recover the feminine powers of the psyche, the powers of intuition, patience, reverence for nature, knowledge of the holy unity of things, and marry in our depths these powers with the masculine energies of rule, reason, passion for order and control, life on the planet will end. (Harvey again)
I was reading the other night about Adolf Hitler, in A. N. Wilson's book by the same name. You know, I lived through this guy's clown act and never did understand it, how it could all happen, how those Germans could be so hypnotized by this little almost effeminate man, clearly insane. But now at the end of my days a new insight, a switcheroo if you please. Hold on, it's not what you think. You're sure I'm going to say Hitler was a macho pig, the worst of the old male order. Yes, of course, he was all that, but in a great ironic twist, I can now see that he was much more, something back then I could never have understood or envisioned. Nor could even Adolf himself… He would have been chagrined. How little we know what's going on around us.
Hitler was a Herald of the Goddess.
The twentieth century was going to leave behind the printed word, and Hitler and I didn't know it. Let the writer remain by his inkwell. Under Hitler's dictatorship, Germany would burn its books. Hitler was the first and most hypnotic artist of post-literacy. He foreshadows Hollywood and television stars, who depended for their success on their ability to present themselves on screen. Communism remained, among other things, a doctrine, whose texts, like the Koran or the Talmud, could be endlessly re-perused by the doctors of the Church, and interpreted in a literary way. They all belonged to the vanishing world of the text; Hitler belonged to the oral future, the future which contained Walt Disney, television and cinema…(Wilson) and I might add, the computer and the cell phone, the camcorder folks carry around now in their phones or even on their wrists. As a kid, I sent in for a Dick Tracy wrist radio and thought it was as far as the future could go... if they ever really invented one that worked.
Zauberkraft… From the beginning he saw himself as a magician. His sense of the power of the spoken word, the word blared through a loud-speaker, the word broadcast on radio and in film was completely modern, as was he himself. Oh to be sure, he wrote a book, but nobody was much impressed. He is said to have read three books, among them Uncle Tom's Cabin! But his visual powers came in handy even here; he was able to virtually memorize huge parts of these books, quote them at will, when he was screaming at the public. He was able to move the Germans like no book could ever do.
Even Bill O' Reilly knows that all those books he supposedly wrote are like the twittering of distant sparrows compared to his baleful image on nightly television, screaming at us, doling out his word-poison, doing the same thing. He must surely know, on some level, this same secret, that the oral message, if roared out loudly enough, often enough, can mesmerize, hypnotize. He too might be chagrined to see himself as yet another unwitting Herald of the Goddess.