View Full Version : Plague of the Invigilare

Home - Discussion Forums - News - Reviews - Interviews

New reviews, interviews and news

New in the Discussion Forum

August 6th, 2004, 07:26 PM
What is an Invigilare?

Chuck Palahnuik would say, "Well angel isn't the right word, but it's the closest word that comes to mind."

Free Preview

The world is full of tortured souls. I know, because I am one of them. We donít sleep, we never dream. Weíre full of pain, but not in any physical sense. The agony we suffer is far more intense than any of those minor scrapes or backaches, even beyond all that emotional anguish you feel of losing someone you love. The pain I make reference to is our birth, our existence, our life. Life on this brutal planet will often strip you of every reason there is to live, without any rationale or logic. Weíve all felt it.

I did not always feel this way, I used to believe in a crucified savior or some kind of deity that rewards you for doing good by sending you to paradise, but now, I know itís not worth it. Good, what is that anyway? As if it were a definable term that actually meant something. As if you could measure it on a scale and it were not based on a wide range of human relativity. Goodness, a connotation brought to you by the same preachers who claim youĎll be dropped into a fiery pit and barbequed, like your dinner last night. Believe in it. Donít believe in it. Believe in yourself, or whatever gets you through the day. If you believe in Jesus, does he exist? I think so.

Understand I donít have all of the answers and if youíre looking for hope, youíll find none of that here. The only thing I have to offer you is the truth, which is more than youíll get from some ravenous minister, or your significant other, who sneaks things past you when your eyes are shut. For I know things...

...I met this scraggly fellow once in this Club Amnesia, in New York City, who swore on my life that he was Jesus Christ incarnate. The savior of millions hanging out in a dance club at three oíclock in the morning, getting hammered out of his mind. I asked the lord, "If youíre Jesus Christ, what are you doing in this bar getting ****-faced, shouldnít you be out helping people?" He stared into my eyes with an iconoclastic smile, at a loss for words. Finally the former incarnate shrugged, as he had nothing witty to reply, which shocked me, the ignorance of it all. Most people donít even know the history of their religion. If he were an educated man, he might have known that Jesus immersed himself around sin. He was constantly hanging around taverns and drunks, preaching. Thatís how he met the apostles; they were drunks...

...Not knowing...thatís what plagues us, confuses us, drives us to a dark place. Your heart, my soul, and the illusions, which cover us from seeing what most cannot tolerate. That is where we reside: living, dying, thinking there is a purpose to it, thinking you will rise out of the darkness into the light. For all of you that believe this, there is sad news.

There is no light, but if there were one, I would hold the lantern...

...The idea that Iím an alcoholic, a hypocrite, mentally unstable, and an alienist, does change the truth: Hell, Jesus was three out of four of those and millions of people follow him everyday, two thousands years later. Iím not asking you to follow me, or anything remotely crazy like that...

...And I would never ask you to think for yourself, because god willing, weíd all be atheists, stranded in purgatory, searching for the meaning of life...

...While enjoying cocktails in Venice Beach, California, I had the pleasure of bumping into a man who insisted he had been Jim Morrison in a former life. Not quite as historically important as the Christ, but Jim had indisputable physical evidence to support his theory. First there was the uncanny resemblance between him and the Lizard King, especially in the eyes.

"Eyes are the windows to the soul," Jim explained.

There was also the fact he had been born the day after his former incarnation had past away: July 4, 1971. He showed me the birth date on his driverís license. He also predicted he would be famous and die young; I guess some reoccurring souls never learn...

August 7th, 2004, 07:04 PM
You truly have your own voice.

Is it part of something bigger?



August 9th, 2004, 02:02 PM
Every soul is a recurring soul. The Atman rises and falls, living a thousand lives and learning lessons before it finally realizes whatever it is that leads to enlightenment. We've all done the black spiral dance before, and we continue it, mad fools capering on the graves of past failures.

I believe in reincarnation, among other things, and your words have a resonation to them, they stir me. Desperately mired in Christian iconography, I sense in you a rebellion from your roots, a horrible need to CHANGE, to disprove the beliefs you now hold as foolish and thus be reborn. The problem I see (the anguish you described. I know, I've been there) is that you have to find something to fill it. It is in the nature of the human animal to want to have faith in something, to want to believe. Destroying God has left your mind empty, barren.

From here there are only a few places you can go.

Nihilism... The denial of everything.

Post-Modernism... The statement that nothing matters.

Madness and Despair... Stripped of ideals and left barren even of morality.

Buddhism... The doctrine of reincarnating souls. Taking personal control of the path to enlightenment.

Occult Philosophy... Riding the serpent. To fall, sinking everlasting into the Abyss and spit curses and bloody defiance the whole way down.

I wish you well in whichever path you may choose, they all lead somewhere. Which you choose, I expect, would depend on how far along your Atman has come in it's travels.

Good Luck, and keep writing. I love your prose.