Chapter 1:6 © The Rebellion – rho

“This composite image shows the jet from a black hole at the center of a galaxy striking the edge of another galaxy, the first time such an interaction has been found. In the image, data from several wavelengths have been combined. X-rays from Chandra (colored purple), optical and ultraviolet (UV) data from Hubble (red and orange), and radio emission from the Very Large Array (VLA) and MERLIN (blue) show how the jet from the main galaxy on the lower left is striking its companion galaxy to the upper right. The jet impacts the companion galaxy at its edge and is then disrupted and deflected, much like how a stream of water from a hose will splay out after hitting a wall at an angle.”

From: /www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/chandra/multimedia/photos07-139.html

**

Apollo could not help but hear through the utter silence in Aeneas’ heart. Eyes like full moonlight registered inwardly. So deep is this need he asks for my help not Aphrodite’s. It is Zeus’ Will that I stand a shield between HeranHim who is the Supervisor of all the Galactic Dead with heartsansoulsanminds. Meaningful Purpose radiates beyond the thought of sunlight and it is impossible for me to see through the design and clothing of the Necessity who originally gave the three Fates their due, and this is but the wardrobe of the Supervisor – or such are the rumors throughout Olympus.

Strange is it that such the tiniest of what can be called a thing – a step beyond the particle and wave of light, of such a singular quantum-like nature that could cause heartsansoulsanminds could rattle our mountain cage and move a Necessity to change HeranHis Meaningful Purpose. Free Will, that horse only Love can ride is nothing to Necessity’s beckoning. No one, not even I, Apollo, can prophecy the dangers in such dimensional depths. Such is a Necessity that can cause Zeus himself to tremble, So, who does great Zeus send but his son, I, Apollo, born second to Artemis am still the only god known to announce my own birth while also foretelling the births of several benefactors of humankind.

He gathered himself to sweep to the Underworld whose god opening gate is composed of a dark and black insect-like hole with nine downward spiral steps each the depth of three times the distance from the galactic center to the outer universe wall. Each with a mind remembering sign of quantum-like light depicting a single separate humbling human virtue. Each virtue a necessity if one is to be born with soul as well as mind and heart. It is rumored to be one of the first of Necessity’s great inventions that on occasion came to rattle the wise and otherwise all powerful Zeus.

***

         Evening of the first day and Marios walked into the privacy chamber and shut the great oak door. “You wanted to talk?”

         “I do,” answered Sophia succinctly. “Let’s lay down with our eyes staring at the lack of ceiling and wonder this play of ours out.”

         He moved in and sat on the edge of the bed staring at the northeast corner. “It is pleasant not having insects, rodents, snakes and other such creatures interrupt a nighttime of sleep.” But for the dreams, he thought, dreams are a plague or bouquet. One never knows.

         “I agree. But look who I invited here tonight.”

         Marios stood and turned towards her smiling invitingly, “Are we making this a threesome? Who is your other guest?”

         “I hope it is Hera. I requested her presence in mind tonight.”        

         He edged a warning, “I would not wish to cross her, Sophia.”

         “That is the idea, Marios,” she declared. “You don’t want to cross with either of us.”

         “I’d have to believe in Hera first, and I don’t have to believe in you.” He paused studying her reaction. “You are right here, and you called me to share your bed for discussion. “What is there to discuss? Messenger Aeneas is on his way. The Supervisor could be anywhere. Sleep is but a deception of death and death a deception of sleep in this stony privacy of yours. His ear is no doubt your nightly ceiling.”

         “You waste your intelligence on philosophy and useless debates,” muttered Sophia and continued, “Why you were chosen number two I will never know.”

         “To keep you in check,” he replied honestly. “And I almost arrived too late. You wanted Charon, our imaginary Ferryman, to be the currier.”

         “Just because he’s unseen doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist. And, he has an interest in us, the Dead.”

         “Compounding interest, no doubt. Don’t you remember how we arrived? No boatman and no money either. They were paltry tales to keep our interest in the Hereafter.”

         “I do not remember. I awoke to my dear mother’s voice. I had ears before I had eyes. And, such tales of death’s survival are true as here we are indeed.”

         He momentarily succumbed to her voice, “I fear our deeds are out of us. I fear there is more to this than meets our dead eyes. Why do we have our lashes and lids to protect such eyes here? These things are not necessary in our present clothing. Deception comes from within as well as without. At least life had an end. Deception has moved on with us.”

         “You must watch our rear for it. That is your reason here.”

         “We wage a demonstration that can move us to a war with Zeus himself. The odds are not in our favor.”

         “All the more reason to court Hera,” smiled Sophia in a swelled sense of satisfaction.

***

Chapter 1:5 © The Rebellion - rho

“This composite image of the Medusa galaxy (also known as NGC 4194) shows X-ray data from NASA's Chandra X-ray Observatory in blue and optical light from the Hubble Space Telescope in orange. Located above the center of the galaxy and seen in the optical data, the "hair" of the Medusa -- made of snakes in the Greek myth -- is a tidal tail formed by a collision between galaxies. The bright X-ray source found towards the left side of Medusa's hair is a black hole.”

From: www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/chandra/multimedia/photo09-018.html

**          

           The boulder strewn hill to the West appears as a miniature mountain from a distance but it is no more than a thousand feet high in the reality of the Place. The mountain setting is caused by an atmospheric optical illusion similar to seeing the night rising moon in September and October back Home. No one Dead knows why or needs to.

This is near where Aeneas is to meet the Supervisor. The mountainous appearing hill basically serves as a stone pit in reverse. The newly Dead takes a few one by two foot stones off the lower side to build privacy a room for one’s self while an older Dead makes an Oak door for the privacy room. Carts exist as someone has taken the time to make them. The newly Dead pull the cart, load it with stone, and return to where a foundation is set. The next day the Dead return and more almost cut stones are waiting to be delivered.

Once the small room is built and the newly Dead is inside and closes the door sheorhe is as good as the body Home is under the ground, at the bottom of a deep blue sea, or floating like ash in the sea or air. It is not the same though because you cannot get wind of the Living. Not a sound to be heard as you are essentially shelled within your own soul.

No one climbs the thousand foot Stone Hill to the other side because there isn’t any as far as the Dead know. This is the place where Aeneas is to meet the Supervisor for a one on One, as it were.

This is any easier task for Aeneas than it might be for most others in the nearby vicinity of Elysium. During life he believed his mother was Aphrodite, the goddess of love. He had acted as though he was goddess born, and since everyone else had heard the same story they also believed it and acted accordingly. This bit of fiction had helped Aeneas survive many trials and adventures in life.

When Aeneas was newly Dead and arriving in Elysium he was met at the pool by his father, Anchises, who upon seeing his son appeared amused but said nothing. Aeneas immediately understood the silence behind the smile as he realized he was not being greeted by his mother on Mt. Olympus. Aeneas happy to see his father good-humoredly asserted, “I see the story of my birth was but a misconception, my true mother was not Aphrodite the goddess of love as I was lead to believe. I was a true love child instead.”

This primary fact weathered well and both laughed that the fiction had crept stealthily into a fact for child and neighbors alike. Within a day Aeneas set out on first adventure being dead; to discover his real earthly mother.

***

            I see Stone Hill, envisioned Aeneas. Indeed it does look larger at our sunless dusk. This mound appears so lonely. I miss the bright light and heat of our daily sun more than almost anything other than my son, Ascanius. Apollo, would you help here dropped from his hesitant mind into securely sincere heart. 

Chapter 1:4 © The Rebellion - rho

"A small, dense object only twelve miles in diameter is responsible for this beautiful X-ray nebula that spans 150 light years. At the center of this image made by NASA's Chandra X-ray Observatory is a very young and powerful pulsar, known as PSR B1509-58, or B1509 for short."

From: chandra.harvard.edu/photo/2009/b1509/b1509.jpg

**

Sophia thought of Aeneas as she sat alone staring at the north window in her room. The myths told that Aeneas was made a god when Aphrodite requested it of Zeus, but it is plain to see that is not a true story. He may have been favored by Aphrodite but she was not his real mother, her mind continued. His mother was a descendant of Our Mother, the first woman with whom all on Earth are also descendants. Aeneas is one of us. All we can do is hope Aphrodite still favors him. We hope she favors our species in particular, though I don’t know why she should. The goddess of love would let us rest in our Home within the womb of Mother Earth. She would let us sleep next to ground on which our great grandchildren play. An interruption. A knock on her privacy door. “Who is it?” she asked.

“It is I, Aeneas. I am ready to meet with the Supervisor if that is your will.”

Sophia opened the oak door with a smile. “Good to see you.” Appearing beardless and in his early twenties, she surmised him with a smile and added, “You are looking quite handsome, my young man.” Tall and handsome, she gathered, lanky and soldier-like with wide brows and a cute wide curl off to the right side of his head. No doubt a scrumptious lover also ran through her mind.

“And you are looking as wildly beautiful as Our Mother herself. You could be her twin.”

“I have been told so, but I only met her once and I don’t think we look that closely alike.”

Aeneas chuckled democratically, “We are all cousins – bound to see the similarities.”

She pointedly asked, “Are you ready to meet the Supervisor? Do you feel up to it?”

“Yes, why do you ask, Sophia [Our Appointed Leader is an understood attachment to Sophia’s name]? Of course, I would have respectfully declined otherwise. Is it true Supervisor has never been seen?”

She quipped, “Rumor has it so.”

“They say such rumors even run Home.” Both laughed cautiously at the wonder in the thought. “In any case, I trust Aphrodite is with me as I assume it is Hades that I formally meet.”

***

         Mid-afternoon. Salamon relaxed in the public bath with Kassi at his side. “How does that feel?” he asked while slowly rubbing her upper spine and massaging her shoulder blades.

         “Comfortable, Salamon,” said Kassi in a low voice. “You always have comfortable and private hands even in this public place.” She paused, “Neck please.” As she turned her head to the right for his firm hands she caught a glimpse of her childhood friend, Agathia at the other end of the pool. She immediately turned and gave Salamon a quick peck on the cheek for private fun and the public innuendo it might cause. Never be outside of who I am inside, mostly.

***

         In the nearby library ragged with boxes of rolled scrolls piled along the walls sat Marios and Thales in somber contemplation. They were quite aware that they were being avoided by the others.

         “Staunch friends?” suggested Marios. “They avoid us here, yet wait anxiously for their orders.”

         “They consider this only a protest, an act of solidarity.”

         Marios raised his right eyebrow, “And you consider it more, Thales?”

         “I don’t know. I saw a goddess on the path today to our morning meeting. Her eyes were devastatingly black to wide brown with a thin black encompassing the division of brown to the white of her eyes. She appeared from a distance as an old lady with a cane. But, when she grew close and looked up from the path she was Beautiful and Captivating. She was a goddess I am sure of it. I have told no one but I take it as a sign . . . .”

         “Or an omen,” interrupted Marios.

        

         Thales’ blue eyes grew, “Why would a goddess walk by as I was on the way to the meeting? I take it as a sign Mt. Olympus is more involved than I suspected. Why, would they become involved if this is only remains a peaceful protest? There is no way we could win a war against Zeus.”

         “Perhaps he would enjoy such a battle,” smirked Marios. “Only the Fates know.”

         “You still think the Supervisor is less powerful than Hades?”

         “According to Our Mother he has always been known as the Supervisor. No one has seen him, true. But there is an order beyond us in this Place. Our heartsansoulsanminds are intact. This was built for our Being, for whatever the reasons. He has always shown himself to be a Custodian. He holds this Place together as Mother Earth holds our Home.” Marios sat quietly for a moment. “I would accept a path, a single path that one of us might follow to Home so that sheorhe might rest in peace in the earth below the sun and moon and stars for a time. We could take turns and everyone have an equal time in one small piece of ground. The place where one of us might be closer to our great-grandchildren. Is it so much to ask?”

         “But one of Sophia’s demands, one voted on, is to return Home to speak to the Living.

         “I would take the compromise.”

         “How is that a compromise, Mario? One of the ten thousand to go Home to rest?”

         “The rest of the Dead will follow the ten thousand for necessities sake if nothing else.”

         “We could be thrown in the pit with the Titans,” reminded Thales in a slightly disguise whine.

         “I doubt it,” responded Mario. “If so, we would already be there. Do you think the All-Knowing Zeus would put up with this when with a bolt we would be nothing but our souls’ ash?”

         “I don’t think he knows everything. Too many stories. If he knew in advance he was going to be caught in his affairs why would he get involved in the first place?”

Chapter 1:3 © The Rebellion - rho

         

Galactic Cluster JKCS041    Chandra X-ray Observatory

The most distant galaxy cluster yet has been discovered 

using Chandra and optical and infrared telescopes.

At some 10.2 billion light years away, the galaxy cluster is seen 

when the Universe was only one quarter of its current age.

**

           We like things like we like them, thought Thales walking along the path to meet the other. Here I am pacing myself on a dirt path just like the one I remember as a child. It is amazing what small comforts are in this Place. He looked up. Who is this coming in a rather ragged and worn toga? An old woman to go with the outfit, he envisioned. Unusual to see that old of a person walking, and with a cane. 

         As she drew closer, Thales felt the cool breeze of reason leave his backbone. Suddenly she glanced up from the path for the first time. His blue-gray eyes grew wide, his dark wide eyebrows raised up and his lips became stone tight. I am going to disappear into Oblivion.

         His blue-gray eyes threaded into the pupils of a goddess. Black surrounded by brown then a thinner circle of black. I am falling into the Pit with the Titans. He blinked.

White, and long black eyelashes. A dark purple surrounds her eyes like a mist. Eyebrows, narrow and long. Facial Perfection.

         Thales hardly realized she had already passed him. He turned back but She had disappeared. What does this mean? He wondered, it is as if my soul was sucked right out of me and my mind not far behind. Only my heart stood more timeless than it is Here.

        Suddenly he realized Kassi was waving in the distance. He automatically waved in greeting but felt his mind quivering as if it had been stepped on and lay squashed below his sandaled feet on the same unworn rock strewn path he had been following all along.  

***

         The five sat quietly around a round oak table waiting for the important aspect of the conversation to begin. They leaned in towards Sophia expecting that whatever she had to say was not to be repeated.

         Thales considered Sophia’s eyes as she rose to speak – the color is similar to those of the goddess walking on the path. Sophia’s brows are also long and dark, but the brow line is higher. This must mean something. I dare not say anything here. Later with Kassi, and we will talk of this premonition.

         Sophia spoke in a distinct sobering tone like she was about to command her pet dogs to urgent duties. “We shall have our peaceful protest. I have been assured this demonstration will have a full ten thousand heartsansoulsanminds standing as one while I make our demands directly to the Supervisor. A currier said she, I mean the Supervisor, would arrive shortly.”

         “Who is the currier?” asked Kassi who tilted her head slightly to the right for dramatic effect.

         She spoke the few words in a such a stilted and cool ambiance which suggested to Thales that the question had been rehearsed.

         Marios noted the puzzled look on Thales and quickly replied, “I set up the currier. It is Aeneas who is protected by his mother Aphrodite.”

         “Still?” flouted Thales. “Love is no match for the likes of the brother of Zeus, Hades.”

         “We do not know the Supervisor is Hades, Thales,” asserted Salamon who had already contemplated that the Supervisor was mostly likely Zeus in disguise. The women, thought Salamon, are sure the Supervisor is a woman, perhaps Hera herself. What difference will that make? Zeus or Hera. He will have his way, no matter. The Supervisor is a decoy. Zeus always manages to have his way. Aeneas as a currier. What luck, he groaned. The gods are taking sides in this already, and we have done nothing but think. Why do we still think? Why aren’t we at rest? I wanted sleep but here I am, now one of the elected five. I just want to return Home, to Earth where I belong, to sleep peacefully in the bowels of Mother Earth. Salamon then grumbled aloud, “Mt. Olympus is aligning itself, I can feel it in my soul.”

***

         The Supervisor shook heranhis head. Like I need a currier. Love is the mysterious rider of Free Will. Aeneas will play his part I have no doubt. Do they think I will show myself and be a subject of their demands? I allow them dignity, that I have promised myself, but they have to provide the dignity themselves. Do they think they can rest in peace without it? What did human beings think life was? Even though they know better they continue on as if they were still living. Such is their lot – and they had better get used to it.

***

        

         You see how it is from both sides of the fence. That’s the way it is going to be throughout. People can have a hard time with concepts like heaven and hell or war and peace because it is rarely if ever completely one or the other. The same is true for love and hate. Compassion and empathy take their toll as do revenge, boredom and even whimsy. People talk about the weather and how it will change soon. It is easier to talk about than people changing, ever. They sort their lives out though, if they live long enough, and as you will see, so do the Dead who will live on much longer than they can imagine.

***

Chapter 1:2 © The Rebellion - rho

Spiral Galaxy M83      Chandra X-ray Observatory

Similar to our own Milky Way Galaxy where we are on the edge.

**

         Mt. Olympus is a pleasant enough name but the top of a mountain does not do justice for this Place, the size of which is broader and deeper than the known human universe, or even knowable universe or multiple other dimensions and elusive crannies holding other universes for that matter and lack of it. Humans, dead or alive, have a small vocabulary because, well, they are smaller than they think, infinitely smaller.

This is the Supervisor who rests, so to speak, on the other side of this Rebellion of the Dead. I lift the shade a bit here because this is a story that needs to be told if indeed Justice exists.

For my part in this book I play the older brother of Zeus, known as Hades in ancient Greek times. I am a Betweener in real time, and am femaleanmale as are the others up here on the old mountaintop. Female always first. Gender has little meaning here because it is of no use. Even among the Dead it has no use, but it does have meaning. Identity always has meaning in these books. Gender is a destiny of sorts, but a changeable one. One’s birth day is not changeable after the fact and this is true for us gods in-and-in Olympus too.

Three beginning strategies or positions will be played out in this first chapter, dead humans v. gods. While chess had not yet been invented in the world of the Living it was known and played among the Dead. This is a more dangerous and aggressive game than most war generals understood in those days or even today. If you are not into chess, do not be concerned. This added bonus is for those who are intuitive multi-dimensional in the inner warfare already underway.

                                                              The Game

1W.         P-Q4

1B.          P-QB3

2W.         P-QB4

         I prefer the generic term ‘the Supervisor’ to Hades because complications arise for no reason other than imagination without much thought to build it on. This Place, Olympus is built on Reason used as a Linking Verb: to be.

         I am one of several intermediaries for Zeus. As Marios said a few moments ago, ‘We need a runner to send him a message.’ Now, people use the Internet, but then, we used runners because the vocabulary is more culturally understandable. For those who are thoughtful in a slightly different orientation, thinks of us lesser gods as fingertips personified and feel your way through the paragraphs. Mainly there are five of us. Number One is younger brother Zeus. Be careful which digit you make him, if you catch my drift. It pays to be thoughtful in here as you will see for yourself one day.

         The highest in rank next to Zeus is Athena, a warrior guardian who sprang from the head of Zeus. Rumor has it she blows the final trumpet through the Dead, but in here Zeus has not made up herorhis mind, so no one knows for sure.

         The third of three is Apollo, a son of Zeus. Prophecy is sometimes misunderstood or mistranslated amidst a storm of wishful thinking and self-deception. Apollo’s gaze is true but he’s looking through.

         The fourth runner is Apollo’s twin, Artemis, the huntress of the good and just as well as a great healer of the human psyche. Went Artemis enters the Place of the Dead she appears to have four directional faces so she never lifts her own gaze from her father, Zeus. Listen as she speaks, “I provide the invisible horizontal balance for what you see.”

         The fifth, who might that be? Appearing old, upright and astute with unflinching eyes, she in an untimely mix of weaving beacons souls forth. “I am the other, the First, the Female. My finger is intuition and I pointed it your way for your first and will also, for one other day.”

***

         Shortly below on Fields of Green the four Dead gathered bouquet-like to meet with the One elected among the Dead, the leader of the First Ten Thousand, to stand ready for battle if need be, with others of Olympus and the likes of Me. 

***

Chapter 1:1 © The Rebellion - rho

The Galactic Center – Chandra X-ray Observatory

**

Unrest exists among the Dead.

“Something needs to be done. The Living do not realize the connection between them and us,” said Thales.

Salomon stood looking out at the endless horizon beyond the stone wall, flowers and trees. I need to watch this man, he thought, we all have our scruples here but top down this is an uneasy place. The comfort of the breeze is too considerate of our station. Oh, to be Home where we might rot in the fields and be of some use. Our common denominator floats us higher than I am used to. It is one thing to accept our condition, it is another to like it much.

“You stand here sullen Salamon. What do you think we should do?”

“We can do nothing about our election, Thales. What is done is done.”

“You are still a fatalist.”

“The Supervisor must know. If he doesn’t then Zeus does.”

“Zeus is not the end all be all,” grumbled Salamon.

“Hera will put him in his place,” smirked Thales. “I see her siding with us. This is an honorable protest. We only seek to see our children’s grandchildren and show them what we know.”

“At Home even an understanding of how it is here will do,” sided Salamon. Life had its advantages, but then so does death.”

“We have one less fear. Without death what can the Supervisor do to us? The gods cannot punish us here.”

“I have heard that is by Zeus’ command. We could still be punished?”

Thales grittily replied, “Then we exist only in rumors.”

***

         Kassi sat at Marios’ side toying with his chest hair. “Who would have ever thought we could be so close here,” she whispered.

         He grinned with his lips closed. She leaned down and kissed his nose. “It is strange,” he said quietly, “how dead we are, and yet we snuggle as one in a common thought.”

         “We deserve our reward,” she replied, “we were faithful in life.”

         “Hope or Temperance, which of the two was more important in life?”

         Her smile seemed to drift into a quiet whine, “Hope is always a stronger virtue than moderation. Besides, we are here. Nothing can harm us from our lovemaking.”

         In more seriousness than she expected, Marios said, “I still have a sense of temperance. I think we should not confront the Supervisor directly. We need a runner to send him a message.”

         Now wide-eyed, Kassi insisted, “The Supervisor is female, I am sure of it.”

         “Why do you insist this when no one knows?”

         “It could be Hera herself, or Hades’ wife, Persephone. This I know, the Supervisor thinks like a woman.”

         Frowning, he toyed, “How does a woman think different than a man? Our minds are one in the same.”

         “Only in love, my dear Marios, only in love.”

***

         You see how it is at the beginning of this long, long story. Here we are in the twenty-first century and the Rebellion still continues, how shall I say, “Underground.”

         I am a nameless character like no other. An observer if you will, and as such, the Past is changed just by my arrival, and yours is too, by this reading. Some call me a Betweener but that isn’t the half of it. After all, how can you have half when you have no idea what full is?

         These resourceful characters you have just met know where they are. Call it Heaven or Hell, Both or Neither. These dead people call it Elysium or the Elysian Fields as they are ancient Greek from about the time of the Storyteller, Homer, let’s say 800 BCE or 2700 years ago. I say about because you really have no idea. You set the arbitrary dates, not me. Human beings are strange that way, setting dates like they know the beginning and the end of things.

         The Dead measure Time like water. From their point of view, back some 2700 years ago by your cultural measuring, time was half full. The Dead know things like that, they know when time will fill the bucket. The Living don’t have a clue but they think they do. Now let’s interlude on their fabled Mt. Olympus and enjoy the Place from a god’s point of view.

***

Alice Pleasance Liddell & Charles Lutwidge Dodgson framed in glass the Great Hall.

Amorella here looking up onto the top row of windows. On the left is a portrait of Alice and on the far right upper window is a portrait of Charles. The rest appears to be history. This is windowed wall in the Great Hall at Christ’s College which in recent years has been made popularly famous as a film set based on a book series by J. K. Rowling.

In some ways because of orndorff’s bent on the world, the atmosphere of Elysium is both scholarly and spiritual, much like Christ’s College, Oxford. You have a question?

I have a statement clarification. I am neither that scholarly or spiritual, Amorella. I enjoy non-fiction over fiction but Harpers and Discover magazines are about as far as I presently go. Beyond that I have to insist on my agnostic status. I do not have enough faith to fully accept any belief system I have come across other than the one I made up for myself, ‘transcendental existentialism’ and this is more readily an overlapping of concepts than ideologies. I am also a fan of the late Joseph Campbell because of his wide-encompassing views on cultural stories people have told and still tell in one form or another, but none of these are belief systems in themselves.

Since 2001 I have periodically taken the ‘Belief-o-Matic’ twenty question quiz on beliefnet.com. I decided to take this, now, tonight (before going further with tomorrow’s posting) to see the results. The last time I took this quiz was three to four years ago and the time before was seven or eight years ago. Here are my latest results:

“1. Reform Judaism (100%); 2. Liberal Quakers (90%); 3. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (88%); 4. Unitarian Universalism (85%); 5. Sikhism (78%); 6. Baha’I Faith (76%); 7. Neo-Pagan (65%); 8. Orthodox Judaism (65%); 9. Secular Humanism (63%); and 10. Islam (62%).”

The first time I took this quiz I was quite taken back and surprised to find Reform Judaism number one and at one hundred percent to boot. It has never varied from number one, one hundred percent in every ‘Belief-o-Matic’ test I have taken. I was raised as Presbyterian in the forties and through the fifties. I like to think of myself as an open-minded agnostic, but when push comes to shove, I guess I lean Reform Judaism first and a Liberal Quaker second. The Liberal Christian Protestant would be closest to my upbringing, that is pretty much the way I am settled into my religious nature with Unitarian Universalism being a close fourth, then it drops off. It is a good quiz from my way of thinking. Give it a try, answer honestly, and don’t forget to check the worth section under some questions. See what happens.

So, back to the “scholarly and spiritual” – it would be dishonest to say I was not scholarly because I am but perhaps in an unorthodox way. As for spiritual, I admit, deep down, that I have a few strong religious beliefs but I try to not let them interfere with my preferred open-minded agnostic tendencies.

You are setting your own private personal self in a particularly ordered mindset as you begin book four. You want to maintain a higher level thinking mode as if you were writing the work in Canterbury Cathedral, let’s say, or Washington Cathedral, as both rest comfortably in your mind. Let both symbolize your need for a classy Muse. You are ready to begin chapter one in book four once again.

Above my desk in the basement I have an eight inch rounded piece of green-stained leaded glass about one inch thick with a centered Celtic cross. I bought the glass about thirty years ago at Washington Cathedral. In a sense, a part of the cathedral is here in at the foundation of our house. Call it superstition but I need to know these things and have them in mind so that I might better rise to the occasion of putting my name on a book that is dedicated:

“To the species Homo Sapiens. To the Dead as well as the Living”

Enough theatre orndorff. Let’s get on with it. Tomorrow begins Chapter One, Book Four.  – Amorella.

**

Writing this online is not so comfortable as it might appear. I easily suffer from stage fright, but I’ll give it the old brain a try. Besides, I need a good challenge. By the way, my continual tweaking of the grammar and the content is a rule I always allow myself. I do not always agree with Amorella. I am editor-in-chief as well as first reader and declared author. If you have questions or comments feel free to address them to < rhorndorff.gmail.com >.  I'll read them but I may not respond directly. Thank you for reading.  –  rho