Translate

Friday, December 9, 2016

Season's Greetings



Not a day goes by in  my home state of Texas that someone does not wish me a good day.  "Have a good day," or "Have a great rest of your day!"  These folks want me to have a day free of problems and stress.  And many of them I do not know.  My usual response, I am told, is appropriate.  'Thank you and the same to you!"  Wishing folks a good day along with the appropriate response is not just the practice of good manners.  It is being down right neighborly.  But it is THAT time of year when some folks get their panties in a bunch if they feel someone has violated their 'feelings' by saying the wrong holiday greeting.  

Does it matter, in any real sense, if someone says to you, "Merry Yule, God Jul, Merry Christmas, Blessed Solstice, or even Happy Kwanzaa (okay, I admit the last one is a stretch)?  To a mature person it will not.  Just like the person wishing you a good day, the person wishing you a Merry Christmas or God Jul is wishing that you have a happy, joy filled holiday.  That's it.  The correct response should be, "Thank you and the same to you!"  

Heathen Brethren, the Christian that offers you a Merry Christmas probably has no idea you are Asatru/Heathen/Pagan.  Here, Heathen soul is the comfort:  this battle is over.  The irrefutable truth, the facts, give us victory.  But the dust has yet to settle, giving way to confusion.  Trying to convince a stalwart Christian about "his" Christmas is tough; you would have a better chance convincing Neil deGrasse Tyson that the world is flat.  So revel in the truth.  And let them celebrate Christmas in their way.  With all the Pagan/Heathen get up and go of Yule.  Just like us.  That should put a smile on your face as you carve up the Yule Ham.  

                                                     Copyright @2016 Terry Unger
   


Thursday, December 1, 2016

The Journey of the Seeker - A Yuletide Tale




The mist that surrounded the Mountain was thick, forcing the Seeker to guard his steps.  More than once his walking stick found ankle breaking crannies.  Strange beasts darted and slithered past him as if to say - go home.....there is nothing here to find but misery and misfortune.  The Seeker gave little thought to the warnings.  He heard them before and pressed on.  The mist finally cleared and he stood at the Mountain's base.  The Seeker paused to refresh himself from his meager provisions.  As he looked up, a pair of eagles framed themselves against the azure sky.  That same upward glance afforded him the mental picture of what appeared to be a cave.  The opening of the cave stood out in stark contrast to the Mountain's icy peak.  That cave, the Seeker knew, was his destination.  

He found a narrow path at the base of the Mountain.  His steps on the path took him through tall forests of fir trees and oaks.  The Seeker heard the playful splashing of a nearby stream.  But with all things worth obtaining, the higher you climb in your quest, the rarer the air.  The Seeker stopped several times to catch his breath and clear his head.  But every time he began again, it was harder than the last.  His body and mind demanded sleep and nourishment.  He refused, and moved forward. Nine Suns rose and fell until the Seeker, exhausted and frostbitten, collapsed at the cave's entrance.  

The Seeker woke.  He had no idea how long he had slept.  Gathering his senses, he found himself covered in a blanket, colored royal purple.  Probing further, he discovered that the blanket was covered in fresh snow.  Even though he felt like he was entombed, the Seeker did not panic.  He rolled on his stomach and then stood.  Warmth and light greeted him.  Feeling renewed, the Seeker left his tomb in search of the source.  His search was quickly rewarded.  

A man sat, slightly slumped over, by the fire.  The man did not speak.  Our Seeker decided to sit opposite him.  The two men sat gazing into the fire.  Finally, the silent one produced a cup, made from horn and filled with liquid and said, "Drink."  

Our Seeker took the offered cup, smelled it and replied, "What is this?  I've never smell anything like it."  

In a flat monotone the man said, "You question my hospitality Seeker, or are you looking for simple conversation?"  

Our Seeker did not know what to say.  

Again the mysterious man said, "Drink."  

Our Seeker took one sip, followed by another.  It was delicious.  He emptied the horned cup.  

"So tell me Seeker, why did you travel nine Sun days to get here?  What do you want?  What do you think you will find?"  As the man spoke his last words he raised his head and revealed to our Seeker a face covered with the cracks of time.  

Our Seeker looked at the man's craggy face for a long time.  Finally he said, "When I started my journey I had many questions.  But now I feel empty.  This is the fate of being mortal."  

Craggy faced man gazed intently at our Seeker.  Then he said, "This is your mistake.  Thinking that you are just mortal.  You are infinitely more than that.  You are immortal.  Every cell and every atom. Every thought, action, memory, and emotion live forever.  It is burned into your DNA.  Physical things change appearance, frequency, and harmonic levels but they never perish.  And, that thing within you, that thing many call 'soul' is multi-leveled and purposed.  Everything about you is a part of and connected to the GREAT ALL.  Nothing really dies - it changes.  Seeker, all of you is immortal.  But, you have yet to REALIZE it."  

Our Seeker offered nothing but dead silence.  

Craggy man broke the silence.  "Is there anything else, Seeker?  I know this is not what you were searching for but this is what you got." 

Our Seeker thought for a moment and then said, "How do I find what you told me to be true?  To really know and understand?  And not just walk away believing every word you just told me?"  

Craggy replied, "That is a smart question, that can be answered with one word.  Work."  

"Work?"  

"Yes," Craggy face said, "Work.  It is a four letter word many modern folks seek to avoid.  To attain anything physical or spiritual, you must work.  Nothing will be handed to you.  If humanity wants to walk with the Gods, again, they....you....must work for it."   

"But what," our Seeker said, "must be done to have this knowledge, these experiences?"  The words stumbled out of our Seeker's mouth like beans falling from a can.  

Craggy smiled at our Seeker.  He said, "You're a smart man, but what do you not understand about work?  You figured out how to travel nine full Sun days to get here.  And remember, you packed the blanket.  It was olive drab when packed, but became purple royal because of your holy intent.  You will figure out all of what I told you.  It is rapped in your DNA.  With that, Craggy man stood.  Our Seeker knew this was his signal to leave.  As he turned to leave, Craggy began to drink from the same horned cup.  

Our Seeker turned to offer his host a fond farewell.  But Craggy was gone.  In his place stood a mirror image of our Seeker.  He was smiling while drinking from the horned cup.  

                                               Copyright @2016 Terry Unger  









Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Thoughts Before Yule



In the early days of the Germanic Heathen revival within the USA, many folks walked around saying things like, it's in your blood, it's in my blood, it's a blood thing, referring to themselves and their connection to Germanic Heathenry.  That is a simplistic statement and it is wrong.  It is not blood, but your DNA - a genetic road map given to you by your parents.  A map that you inherited from ALL of your Ancestors.  And recent research indicates that your DNA holds memories of your Ancestors, both good and bad.  There should be no surprise then, that memories of Yule's past press themselves forward into  a person' consciousness.  

These memories may come in dreams or flashes of insight.  They may present themselves as deja vu experience.  Or they may press on a person the desire for snow, forests filled with abundant evergreen and fir trees, and a hearth fire.  Because - our Northern Ancestors struggled with the cold and ice, and did what had to be done to survive until Spring.  These are just a few of the special things given to us by our Ancestors.  

Yule is not an accident, an appropriation of Christmas.  It is Christmas that was appropriated from the Northern Heathens and the Southern Pagans by melding Yule, the Feast of Sol Invictus, and the Feast of Saturnalia, over centuries, for reasons of conversion and cultural appropriation.  And historically, we know that all three of these festivals existed centuries before the supposed birth of the baby Jesus.  Period.  I am not being smug.  All of this can be found in University Libraries, or well stocked local libraries.  For the less ambitious, please consult professor Google.  

But for the awakened Northern Soul, the personal DNA map, the Ancestral Inheritance, always is present.  It is your culture.  It is your heritage.  It is your Ancestors.  It is spiritual and physical.  Think on these things as you prepare for Yule.   

                                                    Copyright @2016 Terry Unger

   

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Jack, the Persistent Sales Dog




Hey there, human bipods!  Jack Unger coming to you from Ungerlands Texas!  Today it hit me that ya'll might think I was just kidding about having one eye.  So I ditched my sexy sun glasses and took this selfie!  Yes, I am the best looking dog in Texas!  The ladies tell me I'm so hunky!  And who else do you know that has only one eye?  Well, who is it?  Ya'll know who I'm talkin' 'bout!  But enough about me.  

Tonight I was checkin' the book sales figures with my human dad, Terry Unger.  What ya'll waitin' for?  Really?  Woof!  Ya'll know my daddy writes the best dadgum heathen books on Amazon!  If ya'll want an invitation, here it is!  Go ahead and buy them!  Don't be the last, be the first, second, and third!  Buy them all, daddy's books make great gifts!  Can ya'll keep a secret?  

The other day I was foolin' around on dad's computer.  I went to the blog and accidentally pawed on of the titles you see on the right side.  It took me right to that book's Amazon site!  IF I had a credit card, I could'a ordered a bazillion!   WOOF!  It's that easy!  And let me tell ya, Amazon has no problem pumpin' out the books!  SO whatcha' waitin' for.....I gave ya'll an invitation!  Go buy! 

Still hesitatin'?  Thinkin' what's in it for Jack?  I told ya'll the last time.....I want new bones and toys at Yule!  Oh come on, don'tcha want somethin' new?  Well, buy my daddy's books.....that's somethin' new!  

And BTW, please don't rat on me to my daddy.  The other day I was playin' games on his computer. Forgot to close the program.  Daddy was pissed.  Blamed Mason - we don't have a cat!  I want bones, WOOF!  Buy dad's books!  

                                                Copyright @2016 Jack Unger  


Tuesday, November 15, 2016

So, You Want to be a Warrior?





Within Asatru/Heathenry many men refer to themselves as warriors.  Not to be left out, many women like to think that they are shield maidens.  Folks fill themselves up with the glories of the old days, the days of our Ancestors.  The days when having the skill to wield a sword or an axe in battle saved your life and more.  In that bygone era a warrior earned his "strips," the title, "Warrior."  But, we live in the 21st century.  The times and circumstances are different.  Today, we have law, we have order.  Does simply stating that one is a warrior, qualify for the title?  My good friend Vincent Enlund has a few things to say about that.  His credentials speak for him.  Check out his video below and judge for yourself if flexing your muscles and snarling at the neighbor's dog grants  you the title.

As for myself, I cannot lay claim to this title.  In my opinion, If I had to fight to save my family, I would just be a man who defended his own, not a warrior.

                                         Copyright @2016 Terry Unger & Vincent Enlund





Wednesday, November 9, 2016

America's 2nd Revolution



Personally, I despise politics and politicians.  It appears that many others in America agree with me. The victor of this many months' long circus was not, according to the thinking on the left, that was aided by the right, supposed to win.  He just was not.  But Trump won and is now the 45th president -elect.  For months to come, there will be hand-ringing by the left and the right.  How did this man get elected?  The career politicians on the left and right want to know.  The answer is simple.  They failed  us, the people.  

In this Republic, the elected serve the people, not the other way around.  That is what it is supposed to be.  However, over many years, the people seemed to serve the elected - the pleas of the people were ignored.  Joe Lunchbox, Joe Six-Pack, and Everyday Joe felt left behind.  And they were - their need and concerns abandoned the day after election.  Abandoned by career politicians in favor of special interest groups.  So the Joes, often thought to be malleable for the politico's needs (re-election), revolted and elected a brash, loud-mouth billionaire businessman as their presidential champion.  The Joes picked this guy over Mrs. Clinton for three reasons.  First, Trump is no politician.  Anyone who watched the debates can bear witness to this fact.  And, Mrs. Clinton and company are career politicians who have promised much over time and delivered little of substance concerning the needs of the Joes.  That's a big deal.  Secondly, Trump listened to the Joes.  He truly believes that he can help them (us) have a better life.  As the 45th duly elected President of the United States, he deserves a chance to put "his money where his mouth is."  Finally, the democrat has baggage.  So much so that if her "baggage" was carried in suitcases, TSA would not allow much of it on the plane.  Yes Trump has baggage, but he was never elected.  And never elected on false promises.  But this revolution is not finished.  

The people of the USA need to impose term limits on their elected.  Our Founders looked at elected office as one of service to the people.  A person "served" for two or three terms and "retired," letting the next guy do his bit.  It was considered an honor and self -sacrifice.  It was considered patriotic duty, not a life long career.  Term limits can bring this all home.  And what of the lessons of election 2016?  

The pundits will discuss this for months to come.  What worked and what did not work against conventional wisdom.  One thing that needs to be made clear to both the Left and Right:  Don't fuck with us Joes.  You work for us, not the other way around.  

                                                 Copyright@2016 Terry Unger


Monday, November 7, 2016

Salesman Jack




Hey there humans, my name is Jack the one-eyed Wonder Dog.  Some of you know me but many do not.  So, I put my picture on top.  I live with my human parents, Terry and Sandra Unger in Ungerlands.  Now that my introduction is out of the way, let's get to it.  

Yule is coming.  Yes I know it's weeks away but you humans like to procrastinate.  Ya'll like putting stuff off until the last minute.  Like who you will gift with what.  I can help with that.  My human daddy's books are great!  Of course they are!  Buy them!  I need new bones!  Really, this Yule while you are feeding your stomach feed your head by reading my daddy Terry's books.  And it's so simple to do!  

On this blog site, just click on the titles to the right.  This will take you directly to that particular book site on Amazon.  It's so simple even a dog can do it!  WOOF!!!

                                        Copyright @2016 Jack the Wonder Dog Unger




Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Innuendos and Advertising



The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated. - Mark Twain, 1897.


It amuses me how people can be motivated by rumor, innuendo, outright lies, and sales ads.  Like Twain in his time, I in mine can say do not believe what you read or hear.  Especially at this time of year.  The huckster's have begun to sing their Siren's song to empty your bank account and max out your credit cards.  And all for a one day holiday.

Having racked my brain over many years I cannot fathom why people of "faith" spend so much money on a one day holiday, a holiday hijacked from Pagan and Heathens and then abbreviated (Yule, the Feast of Sol Invictus, and the Feast of Saturnalia) for a scant 24-36 hours.  So for Christmas, Christ's Mass, Christians spend the money on the baby Jesus?  No.  They spend the dough on themselves and each other, maybe for the sake of emulating the gifts given to the Christ child by the Magi.

The advertisers tell us that we must have this, our sweetheart deserves that, and our kids need all of  the above.  And we buy into the rumor, innuendo, and outright lies ..... the sales pitch.   Frankly, I do not care if you are Christian, Pagan, or Heathen; many of us get sucked in.  Do we do so out of guilt or to demonstrate largess, with or without the incurred debt?  Only in our modern world via credit, can a pauper appear to live like a king, albeit briefly.

The opportunities here for me to wax on to fellow Heathens concerning the above are multitudinous but I shall not.  Ya'll know better, or at least you should.  Being and becoming prosperous and generous still means living within your fiscal boundaries.  It does not mean pissing away capital in order to impress.  So many verses from the Havamal now roll through my head.

In simple Pagan and Heathen terms, we are entering a sacred time of year.  It is a time of reflection, thanksgiving, and planning for the future, along with merry-making, feasting, and gifting.  It should not be a time to piss away money to make major stockholders of the various retail chains ecstatic.  It is my opinion that this is a solid Heathen view, something that wayward Christians and paper Heathens should try and emulate.

And by the way, I am alive and well.  Thanks for asking.

                                                    Copyright @2016 Terry Unger





Saturday, October 22, 2016

Rookie Errors



Normally, I do not post about this stuff - I just do not.  But every now and then, things pop up and piss me off; then the obligation felt to spout off is rabid.  This is one of those rare times.

Recently in Norman, Oklahoma a teacher, in an elective philosophy class, told his students that, "to be white is to be racist, period."  This is a loaded statement that has obvious overt complications.  In Norman, a city that is at least 90% white, this did not sit well with some folks and their evening meal.     

The Norman school district was pressed for a response.  It was tepid, at best.  According to them, the "discussion was poorly handled," but at this point, the teacher in question, who happens to be a white guy will not be disciplined.  Why?  It's part of the progressive agenda.  This shit used to start at the collegiate level but it appears that the progressives cannot wait to fuck with young people's heads.  And this guy does have his supporters at the collegiate level.   

A liberal fluff-tard professor from the University of Oklahoma stated that "research supports" the teacher's statement.  What research is that?  Research that puts Europeans in a bad light?  To make people of European descent feel bad for being white?  Then the good professor goes on to blow off the teacher's words as "a rookie error."  Sorry professor, you are mistaken.  A rookie error happens when an over inflated college quarter-back is drafted by the NFL, put into the starting lineup and consistently fumbles the ball, putting points on the board for the other team.  If continued, this rookie error is rectified by the coach, general manager, and front office because it costs the "team gross revenue."   Too bad we do not have that when it comes to our children's "educators."  But alas, I too, being the laid back man that I am, have been labeled not just a racist, but a nazi.  

For reasons not needed here, I do not care for fish.  There is nothing wrong with fish.  I just do not care to eat it.  And, the  only foods that I will eat raw are fruits and vegetables.  I like my beef medium, just a tad pink inside.  As for pork and poultry, just to the point of being done, not over cooked.  So, a reasonable person would understand why I do not like sushi.  It's raw and it's fish.  But some idiots called me racist because I do not like sushi.  No shit.  As the conversation progressed, I was labeled a nazi because I like bratwurst and kraut.  Again, no shit.  Once upon a time, I was invited to speak at a local library.  When the subject of the old German concept of wergild and its' relationship to our modern insurance came up, I was labeled as a racist and nazi, again.  At my age I do not need this stuff in my life; another reason why I no longer speak in public.  

So what does my personal life have to do with what happened in Norman Oklahoma?  Liberal, progressive folks use the words racist and nazi to silence anyone who 1) has an argument they cannot surmount and 2) it paints anyone who does not agree with their point of view as not just "evil" but disgustingly dirty and deviant.  And when repeated enough, the masses believe it.  Then we have questions.  

If a person likes both sushi and brats/kraut are they just a nazi who enjoys fish?  Are you automatically a racist if you are born white?  And, if my wife and I have a baby, did we commit a hate crime?  When considering the events in Norman Oklahoma and other stuff, these are the questions that rattle my brain.  

There is no brain surgery or rocket science involved when common sense dictates that we all need to respect each other, cultures, and traditions.  

In anticipation of any blow back, let me say this to those who hate:  please take a fucking leap into the next rolling donut that you can find.  Hopefully, the hole will accommodate your smallness.   

                                                   Copyright @2016 Terry Unger 

  

  

Friday, October 21, 2016

Galdr, Frequency, Harmonics, and Vibration




In recent years Asatruars/Heathens have become interested in Galdr, an Old Norse name for a spell or incantation preformed during specific religious rites.  And the word is found elsewhere.  It is derived from an older word, gala, which means - singing, incantations.  In Old High German and Old English gala is found as galan, which roughly means to sing or chant.  And, in Old High German Galdr is known as Galster.  In Old English, it is known as Galdor or Gaeldor.  Interestingly, some scholars think that Galdr/Galster/Galdor was sung or chanted at a higher pitch.  For the sake of this essay let's assume this postulation is true.  In the next segment, we need to rely on Mr. Webster.  

Webster says that Frequency is - 1:  the fact or condition of (something...my addition) occurring frequently  2a:  the number of times a periodic function repeats the same sequence of values during a unit variation of the independent variable  b:  the number, proportion, or percentage of items in a particular category in a set of data.  3:  the number of repetitions of a periodic process in a unit of time as  a:  the number of complete alternations per second of an alternating current  b:  the number of complete oscillations per second of energy in the form of waves. *

Harmonics, according the Webster is - 1a:  One whose vibration frequency is an integral multiple of that of the fundamental ..... *

Finally, Webster tells us that Vibration is - 1a:  A periodic motion of the particles of an elastic body or medium in alternately opposite directions from the position of equilibrium when that equilibrium has been disturbed. *    

Admittedly, the above definitions are a gaggle of words that confuse those of us without a scientific bent.  This, by the way, includes me.  But let me tell you how I struggle to understand this.  Hang in there, dear reader, it's worth it.  

Music has its' various keys/octaves that produce different frequencies/harmonics/vibrations.  These we can hear.  For instance, the key  of "C" can be played at different "levels".  But there are sounds operating at higher frequencies/harmonics/vibrations that we cannot hear.  Like dog whistles.  And sounds that are so high pitched that they break things.  Then we have radio and television.  

When these energy waves are multiplied to a bigger, harmonic level, they can be "received" at a 'higher channel," a multiplied harmonic.  If we posit all of the above to be true, we are faced with a startling reality.  

If we practice Galster, chanting runes daily, over and over again with visualization, we can change and uplift our lives. We must do so frequently that the Galster becomes one with our being.  It stands to reason then, that practicing Galster at a higher "frequency" by raising our voice, raising the octave, can lift us to higher levels of consciousness, Jung's Collective Unconsciousness, or even lower levels of divinity.  It takes time and practice, trial and error.  In the end, it's all up to you.  

*Merriam-Webster Collegiate Dictionary, Eleventh Edition, Copyright @2007 by Merriam-Webster, Incorporated.   

                                                Copyright @2016 Terry Unger 




Thursday, October 20, 2016

Ghosts of Yule Past, Present, and Future




Modern Heathens owe Charles Dickens and his Christmas Carol (original title - A Christmas Carol in Prose, Being a Ghost Story of Christmas) a debt of gratitude.  Yes we do.  Dickens wrote this piece at the time when Victorian Age England looked at how they celebrate the holiday.  Historians think that Dickens's Carol is responsible for the current state of Christmas/Yuletide gaiety that was suppressed in the 17th century (1600's) by the stodgy Puritans.  Those people just did not want anyone to have fun.  The Yule tree, Yule log, greenery, singing, wassailing, family and friends gathering, drinking and eating were back in England.  Christmas became again, more Yuleish....er, Heathen.  So too, Dickens's Ghosts.  
   
 Asatruars/Heathens understand wyrd/orlog.  If you are one of the aforementioned and do not, please do.  Your literal future depends on it.  And, we have ghosts, all of us.  The ghosts referred to are memories of failed actions, where words and deeds of the worst placed planks of orlog in the well of wyrd.  It is these memories, nightmares of the past that haunt the present. Just like Scrooge.  If like Scrooge the behavior continues, the ghost of Yule future is horrible, born from the build up of the same behavior.  Following that old man's steps is not a bad idea.
    
    
Scrooge saw the light.  He changed his behavior.  He went from scoundrel to saint, loser to winner. He changed the planks of orlog he placed in the well of wyrd.  Scrooge became a better man, a good man.  His past did not disappear, its still there.  But, it became less painful and gradually faded under the weight of changed behavior.  It is not just the return to a more Heathen Yuletide that we must credit Dickens.  This author gave us a timeless story about personal redemption.  A worthy one.  

There is no time, Heathen soul, like the present for self-improvement.  Don't get Scrooged.  

                                                  Copyright @2016 Terry Unger  


Friday, October 7, 2016

Wodan, Geri, Freki, and the Lower Self



Sometimes we can find other things that stick out within the Northern Lore.  This is just one of the many......

The Lore tells us that Wodan/Odin has two wolves, Geri and Freki, who are his constant companions, as are his ravens, Hugin and Munin (see Your Personal Ravens - Hugr and Munr 9/20/2016).  Scholars tell us that the names Geri and Freki mean "the greedy one" and/or "the ravenous one."  So, we have two greedy and ravenous canines.  And, All-Father, according to the Lore, knows how to treat them.  

Within the Grimnisal and the Gylfaginning we find All-Father feeding his companions.  In one instance, we see All-Father ALLOWING Geri and Freki to eat some of the flesh of the battle slain.  In the other example, All-Father feeds Geri and Freki with the food from his own table; he consumes nothing but wine as his food and drink (the food on All-Father's table is limited to what is there).  That All-Father consumes nothing but wine, not mead or ale is important.

In the northern climes, grapes to make wine could not be grown, but during the Germanic migration Age and the Viking Age, wine was something that the better off sought as a trading commodity - it was a rich man's drink; mead and ale were left for the common man (this was also true for the Germanic tribes).  And, in my opinion, imported wine may have been thought of like Soma (Sanskrit), a ritualistic stimulant drink (something from our proto-Indo-Iranian-European past).  Here I must state that wine "may have been thought of like Soma..."  not in a literal but figurative sense. Within the context of our northern Lore, this wine was the drink of All-Father, something to help improve his higher self, or something to set him apart.  In my opinion, it was an added extra on top of "the Mead of Inspiration."  It was that which opened up new worlds of the Mind.  So, what could all of this mean to us today?  

In both sources we see All-Father feeding his companions, Geri and Freki.  In my opinion, Geri and Freki, the greedy, ravenous ones, are metaphors for our lower, baser, selves.  Contrary to Monotheistic salvation doctrine, All-Father tells us NOT to ignore the needs of our lower self (the body, sex, eating, drinking, enjoying life, etc.) - He tells us to feed it, just enough to satisfy these basic needs (not gorging yourself or engaging in any form of gluttony.  The Havamal contains many admonitions concerning gluttony).  Then we see that All-Father, after taking care of his Geri and Freki, drinks wine - the all that he needs - for refreshment and renewal.  For us, that wine of refreshment and renewal can and should be found in contemplation and meditation.  Hot Damn!  What a difference a World-View can make!

                                                    Copyright @2016 Terry Unger

                                                         









Thursday, October 6, 2016

Part Two - The Ordering of the Heavens




Yesterday I posted an essay, The Ordering of the Heavens and believed it to be a good post.  As my luck would have it, I made certain assumptions; I forgot that not all of my readers are Heathen and/or some are new to Heathenry/Asatru.  And, some confusion arose.  So below is a clarification/explanation for those folks who need one.


In the realm of Orlog, Wyrd, Our Words and Deeds we deserve what we get.  Within this very same realm, if indeed there is an afterlife, we earn/have earned the particular destination and our "special place" in it.  There is no other way around this point.  Therefore, every man should strive for this goal: 
       Do not waste any of your time pining away over some glorious or beautiful afterlife; that's a Monotheistic thing.  Make every minute in your life count for the Good.  Always strive to do your best for family, folk, tribe, and community.  If you do this well enough, at your wake people will only have one thing to say - He was a good man, and we will remember his deeds.  This Northern Soul, is a true after life that we can make for ourselves.   

                                                                
                                                     Copyright @2016 Terry Unger





Tuesday, October 4, 2016

The Ordering of the Heavens



As the title suggests, the Gods ordered the heavens and filled them with vast Halls, presumably for us.  Even Heathen Hel has its Halls - go ask Balder.  We humans are presumptuous enough to assume  that these Halls are for us, based on bits and pieces of Lore and our heartfelt hope.  After all, it would be a sad state if there were none, but what proof is there, beyond Lore and UPG?  Being human and fearful of oblivion, I "know" that I am destined for one of these Halls (based on the bits of Lore, UPG, "fear of oblivion," and heartfelt hope).  My ancestors will greet me, also true friends who had passed before.  But what of my faithful dogs?  

Monotheism, in particular Christianity, teaches that animals do not have a "soul."  They are beasts that are animated with "something special" and when they die that "something special" dies with them; the animal meets its oblivion.  This type of theology should be expected from a philosophy/religion that is based on  salvation doctrine which rejects life and the world.  And, to think that salvation doctrine rejoices in life is, in my opinion, God-damned foolishness.  It is the forfeiture of life and all that this world has to offer.  It is the life and world accepting worldview that is truly rich and rewarding.  

It is the latter world view that is held by neo-pagans and Heathens.  When adhering to this world view, a person develops a sense that nothing is truly "separate" ..... our Gods are with us, just as our ancestors and Matronae.  Life and the world are good, not something to avoid as the Salvationists want you to believe.  It is then within this "sense," this life and world affirming view, that we understand all life is indeed important and even sacred.  And if I, a mere finite mortal human understand this, what of the Gods?  

It is my "belief" that my faithful hounds, true friends that have passed on before me, along with my ancestors will be by my side in whatever Hall receives me.  Personally, I care nothing for that which limits Life and Love in all its' expressions. The Gods ordered the heavens and filled them with vast Halls.......

                                                    Copyright @2016 Terry Unger


Thursday, September 22, 2016

Your Personal Traveling Companion - The Fylgja



Within Germanic/Norse thought, belief, and myth the fylgja is considered a spirit that follows or accompanies a human person through out their earthly assistance (Christianity conveniently picked up on this and called it a person's guardian angel).  But is our fylgja an animal or a female human, or both?  

In an effort to keep this simple, and in my opinion, your fylgja is "female" and has the form of a female person.  The idea of an animal fylgja comes down to us via our shamanic past; the belief that people could turn their "shape" into an animal.  If a person "sees" his animal fylgja in a dream or vision he is "seeing" an animal, representative of, or if you like, a reflection of his character, personality, and alter ego - period.  It is not your companion/guardian.  The only thing that the animal fylgja and female fylgja have in common is the name - fylgja.  And sorry, there is no such thing as a man/male fylgja.  I will not exhaust this essay with examples about animal fylgja types.  That is something for the individual person who wants to scratch his curiosity to do.  So what about the female?  

All of us have at least one female fylgja; families, clans, and tribes have more.  But for now, let's just consider the individual.  They are with us from birth (or at least after some kind of naming ceremony) and escort our Hugr/Munr, our soul complex, into some sort of after-life.  When allowed, they are our personal counselors, advisers, and companions (allowed in this sense refers to a person's efforts to contact and then maintain a functional relationship with his/her fylgja - a topic for another day).  Our fylgja can protect us and helps us gather and manage Magan.  There are folks who believe that the fylgja dies when its human charge dies; that is incorrect.  That thinking is based on the animal fylgja concept, which is as stated above.  Our fylgja could very well be our personal Matronae/Disir of ancient Germanic/Norse myth and legend - that makes them minor Goddesses.

SHE, your fylgja, always is close to you, ready to protect you and give you sound advice; you belong to Her as much as She belongs to you.  And if you have an especially close relationship, she will mourn your passing, and possibly hang around your grave.  And if her expression of grief is strong enough, the Old Germanic/Norse myth and legends tell us that She can appear to passers-by and frighten them away, much in the same manner as your surviving Hugr/Munr (see - Your Personal Ravens - Hugr and Munr, 9/20/2016 on this blog).  So here then, is another example of the so-called draugr/revenant of the Old Tales.  The whole zombie thing is misunderstood and so over-rated, don't you think?

Also see on this blog;  For Our Mothers - Modraniht ...12/20/2015  
                                    Matribus Germanis ..... 2/25/2016  

Author's Note:  It is important to remember that the Hugr/Munr reside within you and you can learn how to "send them forth."  The fylgja, while being attached/a part of you resides outside of you.  Also understand that your fylgja is not a slave.  You cannot order Her around like a  pet.  Should you attempt to do so, it is one sure way that She will leave you.  

                                                    Copyright 2016 @ Terry Unger







Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Your Personal Ravens - Hugr and Munr



To paraphrase an old saying, there is nothing new under the Sun plays well for this and some of my other blog posts.  Here it is......Astral Projection!!!  Oh that is so "New Age!"  It is not.  Wise men, Shamans, and Vitkis the world over were doing it millennia before the supposed birth of the baby Jesus.  And they are still doing it, along with the common man (yeah I know, this will make some Heathens wince, or worse).  

We know from reading the Edda's that Wodan/Odin has two ravens, Hugin and Munin.  Also, we are told that Hugin often refers to thought while Munin is mind.  But could not Munin also be Munr and Hugin, Soul/Spirit?   In my opinion, it is indeed possible.  Munr and Hugr are components of the Germanic/Norse Body/Soul Multiverse; Munr is your mind and Hugr is your Soul/Spirit.  These are the things that "live on" after you "pass on."  

Even though  Munr is a separate component, it is contained within the Hugr.  The fascinating thing is that this combined entity of yours can leave your body.  This can happen when you are sleeping or with practice, at will.  This should not shock you.  What do you think our Ancestral shaman's and vitkis were doing when they "went to other worlds?"  And what about your dreams that seem "out of this world?"  

According to our Lore, we know that daily, Odin/Wodan sends his Ravens Hugin and Munin forth, to see what was going on in the rest of the Multiverse.  Here, in my opinion All-Father was practicing astral projection.  Some folks may find this objectionable, because well, All-Father is a God.  That is truth.  But the Gods, infinitely more advanced, are made of the same stuff as we, and can possibly die.  And it appears that All-Father was concerned that one day his ravens, Hugr and Munr (mind and soul?) would not return to him - The Grimnisal.  Was Odin/Wodan concerned about losing his mind? Or dying?  

The myths and legends of many cultures discuss the concept of astral projection and not just within the scope of shamanic work; the best source for now is the Internet.  And there are articles from the so-called experts.  These fellows give enough information to the seeker to let his personal ravens loose on the world.  According to some, should the practitioner get that good at willful projection, people will literally "see him."  That brings up another thought.  

The Germanic/Norse myths and legends are full of stories about draugr and revenants.  In my opinion, these two spooky beings very well could have been astral projections (or something else - sorry kids, that's for another blog post).  

As stated in the first sentence, there is nothing new under the Sun; it's just expressed in different ways and with different words.  It is a serious misfortune that the Germanic/Norse culture did not have the opportunity to flourish like the Greek and Roman - we know who that culprit is!  If it had, I am confident that the warrior-poets would have evolved into serious writing philosophers, along the lines of Rome's Marcus Aurelius.   Then, the Northern Path would have produced scholars equal to and even greater than the best Rome or Greece could muster.   But, we must move forward without that light to guide us.  


                                                  Copyright @2016 Terry Unger




Friday, September 16, 2016

The View




Recently a young man asked me why I wrote the three View books - a very honest and up front question.  I told him that if he bought me a beer or two, I would readily answer.  He did, and this is what I told him.  

It is a rare that someone asks an author "why" they wrote anything.  Often it's assumed that the author wrote a book for some creative reason, or for the reading pleasure of the public.  In other words, the author wrote the book to entertain a segment of the reading public, much like television writers bang out TV episodes for an adoring audience.  As sure as the sky is blue on a bright sunny day, that was not my reason.  The Views were written to ask a man (or for that matter a woman) a simple question or two.  In the wake of political correctness and the numbing of the individual they ask, do you have the right stuff and ... are you a good man?  

All three use the same work book type format:  a written essay is followed by verses from The Havamal.  What  comes after the verses is/are one or several questions, along the lines of...... what is your opinion, how do you feel about that, what do you think, etc.  These are probing questions with ample spaced provided for the individual reader to answer in writing.  And, this is not a test; there is no right or wrong answer.  

The essays first breathed life as individual blog posts, with my eye on bringing bringing them together under The View titles; in many cases, I was a bystander or an active participant.  As they say, shit happens.  But not every blog post I wrote found its' way into The Views; they did not fit the desired mold, although they do have the desired starch to stand on their own.  

It was a painful experience to pair individual essays with the proper Havamal verses and then write out the appropriate questions - the results I wanted depended on this delicate pairing.  A few of my readers have told me that they were surprised with the answers they wrote; it made them think.  And thinking about do I have the right stuff and....am I a good man....should lead the thoughtful man to action.  Action, deeds that will make him a force for good.  Deeds that will be remembered long after he passes from this life.  And while The Views are directed at Asatruar/Heathens, men and women of any stripe can find them useful.  That is why I wrote The Views; there will not be a fourth.  Three manuals about personal improvement are enough.  

                                                    Copyright @2016 Terry Unger



Thursday, September 15, 2016

Inconvenient Truths



Every time I think about written history I whine to myself about how incomplete it is.  And by incomplete I am referring to not having it all in one gigantic volume, with the various reference points to take the seeker to the answers of "why."  It would be interlocking, answer all questions, and dispel all mysteries.  Even if this could be accomplished it would take a fleet of 18 wheelers to transport it.  But who am I kidding; general, written history is full of blank spaces.  

Humanity, within its' various factions competing for supremacy, has managed to wipe out some of this historical information.  This shit happens when books are burned, libraries are torched to the ground, and practitioners of truth are put to death.  All of this has happened with Monotheism being the biggest culprit.  However, we do have written accounts that have come down to us, written by Christian writers of that time, that help modern historians paint a picture that is different from what authority wants us to believe.  

The general rule of thumb is that Christianity "conquered" Europe when Iceland made its' decision (about 1000 CE).  Not so.  Let's take a step back about 150 years. 

The 30 Year Saxon Wars were brutal but the people, the Saxon people were restless.  The Lex Saxonum, the Law of the Saxons codified by Charlemagne, allowed the nobility, the upper crust to insanely increase their wealth at the expense of he common man; the common man was exploited. something Monotheism does very well.  Long after Charlemagne's death but during the rule of his grandsons. the common man came together and called themselves Stellinga.  

The Stellinga (comrades - Stellingabund) was comprised of freemen (frilingi) and freedmen (lazzi).  These two "classes of people" were the lower and lowest rung of Saxon social status.  These folks wanted to toss Christianity and return to the way things were before the Christian usurpation; a return to ancient tribal customs that would restore their rights.  The struggle of the Stellinga went on from 841 - 845 when they were finally crushed by their own nobility.  Monotheism, under the pen of Charlemagne took away their rights and gave their overlords the power of life and death over them, something that was not just missing but totally foreign to their ancient ways.  Let's jump a few centuries.  Let's talk about blood lust.  

Christian Crusaders were defeated by Saladin in the so-called Holy Land circa 1187 CE ; they were kicked out and went back to Europe.  These fellows were down on their luck and resorted to the common practice of looting, pillaging, burning, and raping within their home countries to provide themselves with an income.  Here is where I get my wrinkles rankled.  The chaos created by these "Christian Knights" is a historical fact but how often does the general public here about it?  But how often do we hear about the "barbarism of the Heathen Vikings?"  Think about this point.  I digress.  

The popes of that era were not happy with these guys and decided to send them on another crusade.  They sent them to the pagan Baltic states; the papacy did not care about the rape, looting, burning, and pillaging that was done to heathens - it was all done for the faith.  And the major motivation at that time was land and money (for the Church and for the upper nobility).    

Two hundred years of bitter fighting ensued, with the death toll of Balkan folk to be one million or more.  Finally in 1387 CE, Lithuania officially accepted Christianity but her western territories did not come in line until 1413 CE.  Balkan nobility readily accepted Christianity along with the unlimited exploitation granted by this foreign usurper:  free men were made into serfs and told that a good Christian must work hard for his overlord.  But this fight was not over.  Within their homes and forest deep, the old religion was practiced well into the 18th century.  This was something that was practiced through out northern Europe, either in some actual form, folkway, or folk tales (an in-depth study of the Reformation will tell about Protestant reformers finding pockets of  heathenry/pagandom and how they treated the "heretics." - worse than the Roman Inquisition).  

It is hard to write about such a broad period of human history; the more you search, the more you discover and thus a larger story emerges, something I alluded to with the reference of 18 wheelers.  And, it certainly calls into question anything remotely related to a "complete Christian victory."  

If Christianity had truly conquered northern Europe, the Roman Church would not of had a people to launch a crusade against and the Protestant Reformation would not have discovered vast pockets of "heretic heathens."  Also, if victory was complete, what folklore would have survived?  After 3 or 4 generations it would have evaporated like the morning dew.  Now, heathenry/paganism is growing by leaps and bounds in the Baltic States and Russia (much to the chagrin of the Russian Orthodox Church, who encouraged the people's practice of their ancient folkways).  A bit about myself.

Admittedly, I have grown lazy.  All of the information above and so much more can be found in University Libraries.  However, I chose the Internet for the above.  Frankly, you will need "a fleet of 18 wheelers" to haul it away; you will discover there is much more to this history than "complete victory."

Note:  the picture above is of a popular Baltic States sculpture (called - The Pensive Christ) depicting Jesus.  In my opinion, there is nothing victorious about it.

                                                  Copyright @ 2016 Terry Unger
























Saturday, September 10, 2016

September 11th, 2001






To borrow from President Franklin D. Roosevelt, September 11, 2001 is a day that will forever live in infamy within the hearts and minds of Americans.  Make no mistake, it was a sucker punch that caught us by surprise.  And that surprise came with a hefty price tag; almost 3,000 people of all colors and creeds paid for it with their lives.  Americans who reached the age of reason by 9/11/2001 will never forget what happened that day; hopefully unborn generations will be properly taught.  

All of us remember what we doing when those planes hit the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, and then the downing of the fourth plane, United Airlines Flight 93, in Shanksville Pennsylvania.  How could we forget?  What kind of person could forget the poor souls who decided to jump out of the Towers instead of burning to death?  We saw it in real time - it was not a dream.  Who in their right mind could forget the bravery and sacrifice of the NYFD and the NYPD?  They were the first responders.  Do you remember how many of their number died trying to save others?  Do you remember the scene at the Pentagon when people of all stripes (including then Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld) were carrying out the injured?  And how could you ever forget the bare, raw knuckled courage of the passengers of United Airlines Flight 93, who decided to make their deaths matter - Let's Go!  

Fifteen years later we are still faced with the same forces of aggression and oppression.  These forces want to destroy our way of life and will do everything they can to beat us into submission.  As long as we keep the memory of 9/11/2001 burning bright, they will never succeed.





                                                            Terry Unger 09/11/2016

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

The Treadmill and the Poor Law




The other day I needed gas and stopped at the local convenience store to top up.  As a walked from my truck to the store I noticed a really sad sight:  a homeless woman, old and ravaged by her situation, squatting between the ice machine and the building's corner outcrop.  After I paid for the gas, I walked to her spot and gave her a few dollars; I was not the only one.  She was so frail and her clothing was past well worn and, ashamed of her situation - she could not look at me when I extended my hand that held a few dollars; even her "thank you" was frail and barely audible, tinged with defeat.  She was not a professional panhandler.  She was homeless and alone.  An hour or so later I drove by the store and noticed that she was gone.  The following day I stopped by the store and asked about this poor wretch.  The manager, I was told, forced her to leave; bad for business, you know.  WTF?  Then I remembered this scene from Charles Dickens A Christmas Carol........ 

Two gentlemen are out and about collecting charitable contributions for the poor and destitute from the local business men:  

"At this festive season of the year, Mr. Scrooge," said the gentlemen taking up a pen, "it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the Poor and Destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time.  Many thousands are in want of common necessaries; hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir."   

"Are there no prisons," asked Scrooge.  

"Plenty of prisons," said the gentleman, laying down the pen again.  

"And the Union workhouses?"  demanded Scrooge.  "Are they still in operation?"  

"They are. Still," returned the gentleman, "I wish I could say they were not."  

"The Treadmill and the Poor Law are in full vigour, then." said Scrooge.*  

Obviously homelessness and destitution is not something new and neither is the turning a blind eye to it.  We take for granted many things and consider little.  Many of our homeless had something and lost it, including their personal dignity.  Now we have men and women of our Armed Forces being neglected.  And how often do we take the sacrifices of our Service Men and Women for granted?  They come home broken in mind and body to a health care system that itself is broken.  At least 20 and more Veterans commit suicide a day; how many homeless die daily is hard to figure since they are considered human refuse.  The homeless who die on our streets and the Vets who commit suicide always die alone; they are destitute, lonely, and broken.  Within my own mind I do not have a quick solution to put an end to all of this.  But I do have the strong opinion that it should not happen at all.  

The Havamal tells us:  

**Verse 22 - A man who is small minded and laughs at others is not without faults and flaws of his own. 

**Verse 47 - Once I wandered and was lost; sadness overcame me.  Then I came across a friend and felt elated.  Men fair much better when together. 

**Verse 50 - A man who is alone, shunned, and not loved questions why he should keep on living.  He is like a tree or a garden, dying for lack of water. 

**Verse 135 - Loddfafnir, listen to my words.  If you have a guest or even a stranger in need, help them.   

If you are Christian, reading this and are confused, go to your bible and read the tale of The Good Samaritan.  And hopefully you will see the irony in the tale:  the Samaritan is a polytheistic pagan helping an orthodox Jew who was left for dead (his own people would not help him).  The irony is that the orthodox Jews hated the pagans.  

I am a simple man of simple means.  Here comes the but - when I read reports of how much money we give to countries whose people hate us it gives me pause.  Why not use some if not all of that mega cash for our own people in need?  But then, I am a simple man, best fit to perch on my front porch and slurp beer.  

* A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens, December 1843  

**These Havamal verses can be found in my book, The View From My Front Porch Copyright 2018 All Rights Reserved.  

          Copyright @2016/2018 Terry Unger All Rights Reserved










  

Sunday, August 28, 2016

Civics From a Retired Working Man




On July 4th, 1776, the Declaration of Independence was proclaimed through out the thirteen colonies.  The people wanted self-government but the English Crown would have none of it - so the colonists decided to take it by force of arms - a revolution against the mightiest power in the world.  The Declaration today is still a mighty document.  Written by Thomas Jefferson and Company, it declares that all men have a right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  

All men have the right to live and all men have the right to be free.  And, all men have the right to make their dreams come true.  Nothing in these three rights granted by the Declaration says that because you are free and breathing that you deserve a lifetime of handouts or for that matter, a protective bubble to live in.  These three rights mean that you have the right to live free and fail many times until you succeed.  The Declaration was written in an era when men were willing to die for these rights that we blithely take for granted today; shame on us.  Yes, cupcake, they were willing to die for the right to fail until they could finally succeed.  Obviously the common Joe needed to be free for this opportunity.  The Constitution goes further.  

Written by James Madison and Company in 1787, the Constitution lays out how the government is to operate.  It also expands the Declaration's Life, Liberty, and Pursuit of Happiness with the Bill of Rights, the first ten Amendments of the Constitution, that protect the rights of American citizens against a capricious government.  It was not an accident or  coincidence that the first Amendment, along with its' many rights, contains the Separation Clause - the wall that is supposed to exist between Church and State.  Also, it was not an accident that the Second Amendment gives American citizens the right to bear arms (the so-called Kentucky Long Rifle was the "assault rifle" of its' day, as time marches on, so does technology).  There are many people living today in the USA, this writer included, that believe the First and Second Amendments support the rest of the Constitution.  But, there is a movement, a slow creeping movement that wants the Declaration and the Constitution to not just weaken but disappear.  In this writer's opinion, that movement is known today as Political Correctness

Political Correctness is not a new phenomenon - it found life in early 20th century Communist Russia (USSR) to bring about the "correct political mindset" - bending minds, on pain of death, to Stalin's communist doctrine (no excuses here - Uncle Joe Stalin is responsible for the death of millions of his fellow countrymen).  This method of coercion did not go unnoticed by American Communists and Socialists but did not gain any real traction until the 1970's.  

Ultra-liberal progressives began by eliminating words considered pejorative that they felt offended certain groups of people.  They moved forward via language to advance self-victimization and multiculturalism while at the same time, changing the content, the curriculum taught in public schools, colleges, and universities.  All pressure.  

The PC Police will freely tell you that they love tolerance but that tolerance is given only when the opposite side agrees with their position; disagreement brings a boat load of hate and derision.  We are entering an age where Cultural and Economic Marxism is gaining ground, and the collective American mind is closing.  This is not The Declaration of Independence's Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness as it was intended.  And, it is certainly not the Bill of Rights.  When men of normal stature cannot civilly speak their mind we have a problem.   So, hear this:  These are the times that try men's souls. Thomas Paine wrote that in his pamphlet, The American Crisis, published in 1777.  Yes Thomas, they are indeed.

                                                     Copyright @2016 Terry Unger


    


Monday, August 22, 2016

UPG, Just One More Time



After reading the essay below, please see the suggested reading *

A man and his wife decided to take a trip to a foreign country to study its famed architecture.  The man entered one magnificent building, not noticing that his wife did not follow.  He entered warm and inviting spacious rooms that led to even more rooms.  When he reached one area, the building just seemed to open up to beautiful flower gardens and a cemetery that appeared to encircle the building.  Then the man saw a desk, apparently set up in the open air.  

As he approached the desk, the man felt a certain familiarly with it.  He then understood why:  it was his desk from a more youthful time.  It contained various notebooks, timetables, and calendars - dated by month and year but lacking data.  They were empty.  In another drawer he found his old wristwatch long thought lost and his hand-held CB radio, still in the "on" switch position.  

The CB spoke to him; his presence was requested in the old hall.  On his way he peeked into a few rooms.  Some were like warm and inviting classrooms.  Others were small, intimate dining rooms; the smell of good cooking nearby was overpowering.  And yet others were small but amply furnished individual living quarters.  Finally, he reached the "old hall."  

The place was full of older folks, sitting comfortably in huge arm chairs.  One of the women spoke to him, dismissing his confusion.  

"Greetings, Caretaker," she pleasantly said, "it is almost time for our evening meal."  

The man had trouble with the title "Caretaker."  

"Oh you poor dear," the old woman opined.  "You are the new Caretaker of all of this in here and out there," she said, as she gesticulated with her hands.  "You make sure everything in here and out there runs smoothly and fix things when they don't."  

"But I do not want another job; just do not.  And what happened to my wife," the man said, rather exasperated with this new experience.  

That brought another "Oh you poor dear," from the old woman.  "It looks like "they" didn't tell you.  You're dead, and this is your afterlife."  The man began to shake uncontrollably.  

He still shook long after his wife woke him from his fitful, yet vivid dream.  They talked about his UPG experience for hours, thinking it may be a divine message of sorts.  And they talked to more people and those people talked to other people.  When the very human factor known as "whisper down the valley" was readily applied, a new religion came into being; the man was "The Prophet" and his wife "The High Priestess."  Yes, this is a bit ludicrous, but how much more or less than below.

An old man climbs up a mountain and a few days later comes down with two stone tablets containing ten rules that his God supposedly carved for him.  

A virgin gives birth to a child - his birth father is God (there are a few of these, not just one).  While still living at home with mom, the child, now man turns water into wine, feeds the masses, and after being murdered, comes to life.  

Don't forget the 72 virgins.  

A UPG in the hands of the wrong people can be a dangerous thing for many while profitable for a few.  

*UPG and Rational Thought 07/08/2016

*UPG, Joan of Arc, Joseph Smith, and Cults of Personality 03/21/2012  


                                                 Copyright @2016 Terry Unger 

  





    

In Honor of Arminius

To honor this hero, I offer snippets from my new book, Finding Polaris ...            Introduction, Part One - The Age of Arminius ...