Friday 22 September 2023
Friedkin
Sunday 18 September 2022
What's The Point?
"I think The Point is to make Us despair --
To See Ourselves as... animal and ugly.
To reject the possibility that God could love Us."
The priests left the room, stepping into the warmth and the dimness of the hall, where they both leaned wearily against the wall, their heads down and arms folded as they listened to the eerie, muffled singing from within. It was Karras who at last broke their silence. “You—you said earlier, Father, there was only one entity we’re dealing with.”
“Yes.”
The hushed tones, the lowered heads, were confessional.
“All the others are but forms of attack,” continued Merrin. “There is one … only one. It is a demon.” There was a silence. Then Merrin stated simply, “I know you doubt this. But this demon I have met once before. And He is powerful, Damien. Powerful.”
A silence. Then Karras spoke again.
“We say the demon cannot touch the victim’s will.”
“Yes, that is so. There is no sin.”
“Then what would be the purpose of possession? What’s The Point?”
“Who can know?” answered Merrin. “Who can really hope to know? And yet I think the demon’s target is not the possessed; it is us … the observers … every person in this house. And I think—I think the point is to make us despair; to reject our own humanity, Damien : to see ourselves as ultimately bestial, vile and putrescent; without dignity; ugly; unworthy. And there lies the heart of it, perhaps: in unworthiness. For I think belief in God is not a matter of reason at all; I think it finally is a matter of love: of accepting the possibility that God could ever love us.”
Merrin paused, then continued more slowly and with an air of introspection: “Again, who really knows. But it is clear—at least to me—that the demon knows where to strike. Oh, yes, he knows. Long ago I despaired of ever loving my neighbor. Certain people … repelled me. And so how could I love them? I thought. It tormented me, Damien; it led me to despair of myself and from that, very soon, to despair of my God. My faith was shattered.”
Surprised, Karras turned and looked at Merrin with interest. “And what happened?” he asked.
“Ah, well … at last I realized that God would never ask of me that which I know to be psychologically impossible; that the love which He asked was in my will and not meant to be felt as emotion. No. Not at all. He was asking that I act with love; that I do unto others; and that I should do it unto those who repelled me, I believe, was a greater act of love than any other.” Merrin lowered his head and spoke even more softly. “I know that all of this must seem very obvious to you, Damien. I know. But at the time I could not see it. Strange blindness. How many husbands and wives,” Merrin uttered sadly, “must believe they have fallen out of love because their hearts no longer race at the sight of their beloveds. Ah, dear God!” He shook his head. And then he nodded. “There it lies, I think, Damien … possession; not in wars, as some tend to believe; not so much; and very rarely in extraordinary interventions such as here … this girl … this poor child. No, I tend to see possession most often in the little things, Damien: in the senseless, petty spites and misunderstandings; the cruel and cutting word that leaps unbidden to the tongue between friends. Between lovers. Between husbands and wives. Enough of these and we have no need of Satan to manage our wars; these we manage for ourselves … for ourselves.”
The lilting singing in the bedroom could still be heard, drawing Merrin to look up at the door with a distant stare. “And yet even from this—from evil—there will finally come good in some way; in some way that we may never understand or even see.” Merrin paused. “Perhaps evil is the crucible of goodness,” he brooded. “And perhaps even Satan—Satan, in spite of himself—somehow serves to work out the will of God.”
Merrin said no more, and for a time they stood in silence while Karras reflected; until another objection came to his mind. “Once the demon’s driven out,” he asked, “what’s to keep it from coming back in?”
“I don’t know,” Merrin answered. “And yet it never seems to happen. No, never.” Merrin put a hand to his face, pinching tightly at the corners of his eyes. “ ‘Damien’ … what a wonderful name,” he murmured. Karras heard exhaustion in his voice. And something else. Some anxiety. Something like repression of pain.
Abruptly, Merrin pushed himself away from the wall, and with his face still hidden in his hand, he excused himself and hurried down the hall to a bathroom. What was wrong? wondered Karras. He felt a sudden envy and admiration for the exorcist’s strong and simple faith. Then he turned toward the door. The singing. It had stopped. Had the night at last ended?
The priests left the room, stepping into the warmth and the dimness of the hall, where they both leaned wearily against the wall, their heads down and arms folded as they listened to the eerie, muffled singing from within. It was Karras who at last broke their silence. “You—you said earlier, Father, there was only one entity we’re dealing with.”
“Yes.”
The hushed tones, the lowered heads, were confessional.
“All the others are but forms of attack,” continued Merrin. “There is one … only one. It is a demon.” There was a silence. Then Merrin stated simply, “I know you doubt this. But this demon I have met once before. And He is powerful, Damien. Powerful.”
A silence. Then Karras spoke again.
“We say the demon cannot touch the victim’s will.”
“Yes, that is so. There is no sin.”
“Then what would be the purpose of possession? What’s The Point?”
“Who can know?” answered Merrin. “Who can really hope to know? And yet I think the demon’s target is not the possessed; it is us … the observers … every person in this house. And I think—I think the point is to make us despair; to reject our own humanity, Damien : to see ourselves as ultimately bestial, vile and putrescent; without dignity; ugly; unworthy. And there lies the heart of it, perhaps: in unworthiness. For I think belief in God is not a matter of reason at all; I think it finally is a matter of love: of accepting the possibility that God could ever love us.”
Merrin paused, then continued more slowly and with an air of introspection: “Again, who really knows. But it is clear—at least to me—that the demon knows where to strike. Oh, yes, he knows. Long ago I despaired of ever loving my neighbor. Certain people … repelled me. And so how could I love them? I thought. It tormented me, Damien; it led me to despair of myself and from that, very soon, to despair of my God. My faith was shattered.”
Surprised, Karras turned and looked at Merrin with interest. “And what happened?” he asked.
“Ah, well … at last I realized that God would never ask of me that which I know to be psychologically impossible; that the love which He asked was in my will and not meant to be felt as emotion. No. Not at all. He was asking that I act with love; that I do unto others; and that I should do it unto those who repelled me, I believe, was a greater act of love than any other.” Merrin lowered his head and spoke even more softly. “I know that all of this must seem very obvious to you, Damien. I know. But at the time I could not see it. Strange blindness. How many husbands and wives,” Merrin uttered sadly, “must believe they have fallen out of love because their hearts no longer race at the sight of their beloveds. Ah, dear God!” He shook his head. And then he nodded. “There it lies, I think, Damien … possession; not in wars, as some tend to believe; not so much; and very rarely in extraordinary interventions such as here … this girl … this poor child. No, I tend to see possession most often in the little things, Damien: in the senseless, petty spites and misunderstandings; the cruel and cutting word that leaps unbidden to the tongue between friends. Between lovers. Between husbands and wives. Enough of these and we have no need of Satan to manage our wars; these we manage for ourselves … for ourselves.”
The lilting singing in the bedroom could still be heard, drawing Merrin to look up at the door with a distant stare. “And yet even from this — from evil — there will finally come good in some way; in some way that we may never understand or even see.” Merrin paused. “Perhaps evil is the crucible of goodness,” he brooded. “And perhaps even Satan — Satan, in spite of himself — somehow serves to work out the will of God.”
Merrin said no more, and for a time they stood in silence while Karras reflected; until another objection came to his mind. “Once the demon’s driven out,” he asked, “what’s to keep it from coming back in?”
“I don’t know,” Merrin answered. “And yet it never seems to happen. No, never.” Merrin put a hand to his face, pinching tightly at the corners of his eyes. “ ‘Damien’ … what a wonderful name,” he murmured. Karras heard exhaustion in his voice. And something else. Some anxiety. Something like repression of pain.
Abruptly, Merrin pushed himself away from the wall, and with his face still hidden in his hand, he excused himself and hurried down the hall to a bathroom. What was wrong? wondered Karras. He felt a sudden envy and admiration for the exorcist’s strong and simple faith. Then he turned toward the door. The singing. It had stopped. Had the night at last ended?
Thursday 1 October 2020
And The Gemini Killer was Born.
Sunday 24 May 2020
BLACK BUG ROOM
“And so then, The Student would leave the room, have a real let-down and then begin to exhibit acute neurotic symptoms, as well as a complete inability to do Intellectual Work.
In effect, if you begin pulling-up in Analysis what had happened to these people, on an unconscious level, the effect was as-though a large, slightly-more-than-man-sized black beetle had performed sodomic rape on them.”
Room 101 in George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four is the Black Bug room made manifest. With, for Winston Smith, extra added rats.
Friday 13 March 2020
NINEVEH
Some modern English translations interpret “Ashur” in the Hebrew of this verse as the country “Assyria” rather than a person, thus making Nimrod, rather than Ashur, the founder of Nineveh.
Sir Walter Raleigh’s notion that Nimrod built Nineveh, and the cities in Genesis 10:11–12, has also been refuted by scholars.
The discovery of the fifteen Jubilees texts found amongst the Dead Sea Scrolls, has since shown that, according to the Jewish sects of Qumran, Genesis 10:11 affirms the apportionment of Nineveh to Ashur.
The attribution of Nineveh to Ashur is also supported by the Greek Septuagint, King James Bible, Geneva Bible, and by Historian Flavius Josephus in his Antiquities of the Jews (Antiquities, i, vi, 4).
As recorded in Hebrew scripture, Nineveh was also the place where Sennacherib died at the hands of his two sons, who then fled to the vassal land of ’rrt Urartu.
The book of the prophet Nahum is almost exclusively taken up with prophetic denunciations against Nineveh. Its ruin and utter desolation are foretold. Its end was strange, sudden, and tragic.
According to the Bible, it was God’s doing, His judgment on Assyria’s pride (Isaiah 10:5–19). In fulfillment of prophecy, God made “an utter end of the place”. It became a “desolation”.
Genesis 10:11-12 lists four cities “Nineveh, Rehoboth, Calah, and Resen”, ambiguously stating that either Resen or Calah is “the great city.”
The ruins of Kuyunjiq, Nimrud, Karamles and Khorsabad form the four corners of an irregular quadrangle.
The ruins of the “great city” Nineveh, with the whole area included within the parallelogram they form by lines drawn from the one to the other, are generally regarded as consisting of these four sites.
The description of Nineveh in Jonah likely was a reference to greater Nineveh, including the surrounding cities of Rehoboth, Calah and Resen.
The Book of Jonah depicts Nineveh as a wicked city worthy of destruction. God sent Jonah to preach to the Ninevites of their coming destruction, and they fasted and repented because of this.
As a result, God spared the city; when Jonah protests against this, God states He is showing mercy for the population who are ignorant of the difference between right and wrong (“who cannot discern between their right hand and their left hand”) and mercy for the animals in the city.
The Christians observing this holiday fast by refraining from food and drink. Churches encourage followers to refrain from meat, fish and dairy products.