Showing posts with label owls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label owls. Show all posts

Sunday, January 12, 2020

The Baptism of Christ and Other Epiphanies



We celebrate the Baptism of Christ today and find an epiphany, God is a trinity of persons, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. "This is my beloved son," says the Father as Christ rises from the Jordan and the Spirit, like a dove, rests upon him. But what of the baptism?

Jesus, taking sinful humanity on himself descends into the waters only to rise again to the acclaim of the Father, and the heavens are opened to him and the humanity he has assumed. We will see this again as our Lord descends to the dead from Golgotha and rises from the tomb at Easter. So we find another epiphany, Jesus' baptism at the outset of his ministry describes its salvific action. 

No wonder, then, that the Spirit rests on him like the dove over the waters of creation or Noah's dove flying over the flood to dry land. Jesus is the Spirit anointed Messiah who recreates humanity through his passion, death and resurrection, the dry ground in whom we find entry to paradise.




All well and good, but the epiphanies weren't over. I got back to the Compound to find Christmas decorations being taken down and new decorations being put up. There they were, snowperson statues with owls on every table of the church hall. Gifte Shoppe snowperson centerpieces. But why, for what?

"I don't even like snowpersons," said the exhausted tablepiece decorator responsible for these wintry idols. "Why don't you shoot them then," I suggested, "Do you have a gun? No? Don't worry, I've got plenty, bullets too. You can borrow them." She declined, "But I like doing it, parson!" 

The snowpersons and their owls remain, as does the great mystery  and Feast of the Baptism of Jesus in the Jordan.

God bless,

LSP

Sunday, July 22, 2018

Owl Magic, A Short Tale Of The Occult




The heat came down like the beating of giant wings, suffocating, intense, taking the air right out of your lungs  and sucking it up into whatever was beyond the bonewhite glare of the sun.

So deal with it. Not easy, but I strode into the furnace and somehow made it to the Shamrock filling station pick 'n steal. A short walk across the anteroom of Hell.





"How's it going?" I asked across cracked formica in the cooling blast of air conditioning. She rose up from checking cheap cigars, Swisher Sweets, in all their lurid 99 cent, bluntish glory.

"OK. That it, coffee?" 
"And a pack of cigarettes, Marlboro Light, short, box."

She had the cigarettes ready. It was a morning ritual, regular and repeated but something was different.

"You like the smell?"





Stick incense wafted on the AC, familiar enough; like the odor of tipis in Wales, Austin or San Francisco.

"I smell it," I replied, "It smells like hippies."

She giggled, suddenly coy.

"But hey, better than a toilet, right?"
"So true, better than a toilet. But what's with the owl?"






She paused, laughter most definitely over, and looked at the plastic bird glaring round-eyed from the top of a glass counter and its  sign for burned offerings. 

We gazed in silence, while darkness flickered in and out at the edge of vision, barely perceptible shadowmen, closing in. I ended the spell.

"So what's with the owl. Guarding against evil spirits?"

Liquid brown Aztec Inca eyes met mine and stayed there before another giggle. "No, he's just an owl, you know, like some stupid bird."

I walked out into the heat, coffee in hand, to return the next day; rituals bear repetition.





The owl looked down from his perch and darkness clustered, sharp and flitting, almost out of sight.

"Coffee and cigarettes?"
"That's right, same again."
"You remember the owl?
"Yes."
"You're right. He stops the evil."
"I know."

I looked at Mictecacihuatl and she at me, impassive, empty, a void, this was just the way it was. 

Vade retro, I walked into the searing light of the day, "God bless."





Behind me came a rustle of feathers and the sound of tearing, plucking, ripping and pulling at flesh. I didn't look back.

All Gods, readers, are not the same.

God bless,

LSP

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Anglican Communion Snatched by Evil Owl?



Startling game cam footage has revealed the Anglican Communion being snatched by an evil owl, proving that there are "consequences" for what's euphemistically referred to as "riding the rainbow."

Where the owl will take the Worldwide Anglican Non Communion (WANC) is uncertain. According to the game cam's owner, the photos provided "clarity." 


Riding The Rainbow

"Some people thought there weren't any, you know, consequences when it came to riding the rainbow," he said, "Others reckoned there were when it looked like there weren't. It was really confusing, then the owl came and took the whole Communion away. It gave some clarity to the narrativity crisis."


Owls

When questioned about the destination of the owl and its captured Communion, the hunter stated, "I don't know where it's going, no one does. Maybe not even the owl, it could be flying around for kicks, fixing to drop that Communion when it gets tired playing. They do that."


An Owl Attacks

Where the Worldwide Anglican Non Communion will land is uncertain, that it's been snatched up in the talons of an evil owl appears irrefutable.

Stay tuned as the story develops.

LSP

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Owl Guide


I headed south after Mass on Sunday with a truckload of guns and a simple mission; meet up with the team at a friend's ranch and Live The Dream.

Just Livin' The Dream

"So just what is this 'dream', so-called LSP," I hear you ask, testily. Well I'll tell you this, it involves hunting, fishing, some shooting and also, apparently, owls. I'll explain. On day one of the adventure, we clambered up some bluffs to look at pictographs; it's a spectral thing, a scene that's barely changed in maybe several thousand years. Who was the person that drew on the rock, and why? We don't know, but we did discover this.

The Shaman

If you edge around the side of the cliff, slow and careful, you'll find a nest of owls. I looked at them and they looked at me, eyes aglow and round. They're fierce though; one of them swooped down on GWB, hissing like an offended cliff spirit.

The Owls

I glassed a herd of exotics at around 75 yards from the top of a ravine later that day, but didn't shoot. I'm saving that for another day.

So far the score (not by me, grrr) is 6 hogs, 3 rabbits, 6(+?) Bass. More on that as the adventure unfolds.

God bless,

LSP