Ten minutes on January 28, 2008
Ten minutes on January 28, 2008
Today I was able to meditate on my role as Supreme Leader of the Church of Goaltimate. Sunday was our first session, and though it had been raining for what seemed like forty days and forty nights, when I awoke on Sunday the sun was rising and the rain had paused and I went to the field and lo! There were people there, throwing discs and setting up fields…and we played in between showers and at one point in a downpour so torrential I saw animals walking two by two down Mission Street and entering a large wooden boatish thingy…
It is an awesome responsibility. I thought about the first time I linked Frisbees and religion. We were in a Santa Cruz alternative Church, like “church of the name obscure saint here” Church on I think Chestnut, or maybe Center…there were wiccans and new age people and ritual crashers. I remember casting a circle, and some singing or chanting, and some guided visualization. We went way in, or out, or both,, and were standing holding hands, and then we went around and named the power object or holy thing we saw in our deepest trance. I got nervous as it got closer to me: “eagle,” “kali,” “athame,” “dolphin riding a wave in the sunset.” Maybe “wolf” and “hawk” in there too. I said, “I saw a golden Frisbee.” Well, I did see a golden frisbee, but I wasn’t surprised when the circle started laughing. It seemed pretty eclectic and random to me, too.
You know, when you look at those old painting of Jesus, and apostles, and saints, and Mary…yup. Right, golden Frisbees. In every one.
I don’t believe, with frisbetarians, that when you die your soul gets stuck on the roof, thought that is a nice thing to believe. I am not sure what I believe. But I like the idea of the soul leaving the body like a big fucking huck to the left corner of the end zone, and as consciousness fades, the soul heisers left to right and comes in from out of bounds at the vey end of the arc.
Who catches the soul? Well, that’s easy. The longs catch the soul. The handlers throw, the mids are there for the back cuts, but it’s the longs that catch the soul.
It just makes sense.
Today I was able to meditate on my role as Supreme Leader of the Church of Goaltimate. Sunday was our first session, and though it had been raining for what seemed like forty days and forty nights, when I awoke on Sunday the sun was rising and the rain had paused and I went to the field and lo! There were people there, throwing discs and setting up fields…and we played in between showers and at one point in a downpour so torrential I saw animals walking two by two down Mission Street and entering a large wooden boatish thingy…
It is an awesome responsibility. I thought about the first time I linked Frisbees and religion. We were in a Santa Cruz alternative Church, like “church of the name obscure saint here” Church on I think Chestnut, or maybe Center…there were wiccans and new age people and ritual crashers. I remember casting a circle, and some singing or chanting, and some guided visualization. We went way in, or out, or both,, and were standing holding hands, and then we went around and named the power object or holy thing we saw in our deepest trance. I got nervous as it got closer to me: “eagle,” “kali,” “athame,” “dolphin riding a wave in the sunset.” Maybe “wolf” and “hawk” in there too. I said, “I saw a golden Frisbee.” Well, I did see a golden frisbee, but I wasn’t surprised when the circle started laughing. It seemed pretty eclectic and random to me, too.
You know, when you look at those old painting of Jesus, and apostles, and saints, and Mary…yup. Right, golden Frisbees. In every one.
I don’t believe, with frisbetarians, that when you die your soul gets stuck on the roof, thought that is a nice thing to believe. I am not sure what I believe. But I like the idea of the soul leaving the body like a big fucking huck to the left corner of the end zone, and as consciousness fades, the soul heisers left to right and comes in from out of bounds at the vey end of the arc.
Who catches the soul? Well, that’s easy. The longs catch the soul. The handlers throw, the mids are there for the back cuts, but it’s the longs that catch the soul.
It just makes sense.
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