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Apparently This Is What This Person Believes.

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Posted: 06-26-07 12:03pm

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ONDERDONK

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I Saw It
Posted: 06-27-07 18:47pm

I copied all the text an printed it out last night. I understand. I believe the same thing. So do alot of people.

-onderdonk
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naomi48

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Joined: 22 Feb 2007
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Location: europe

Posted: 06-27-07 20:37pm

What has happened here? What has "Unavailable" written about in this thread that was so offensive? And if it was - why hasn't the thread simply been removed?
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ONDERDONK

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the Sprites
Posted: 06-28-07 11:06am

I don't think it was offensive, it was just a URL to a simple website with a simple essay about a set of beliefs. made total sense to me, and I wrote an essay in response later. I didn't copy the URL down, not realizing my only link to it would be removed the next day. But I did copy all the text on the website and print it out, because I hate reading the computer screen. I still have the text version in electronic format on my thumb drive, so here it is....

"An Historical Overview of the Whereabouts of Gnomes and Elves, Fauns and Faeries, Goblins,
Ogres, Trolls and Bogies, Nymphs, Sprites, and Dryads" is a story by Mat Jacobson

A long, long time ago, the Earth belonged
to the creatures of the wood. By creatures
of the wood I mean gnomes and elves,
fauns and faeries, goblins, ogres, trolls
and bogies, nymphs, sprites, and dryads.
They tended it and took care of it, played,
danced and sang in it, cared for wounded
animals, sat on mushrooms discussing
matters of import and drinking Labrador
tea, rode down streams on leaves and bark,
and parachuted from trees with dandelion
seeds. This was the world into which
mankind was born

These early days, when man was but a newly arrived dinner guest
who hadn't yet taken over the entire house, are fairly well documented
in the literature and folklore of the world, so there's no need to go
into it here. What I am interested in, and what I am asking you to be
interested in, is the question...


"Where did all the gnomes and elves, fauns and faeries,
goblins, ogres, trolls and bogies, nymphs, sprites and dryads go?"



The friction between man and the wood creatures began with the discovery of
agriculture. With the discovery of agriculture, civilization arose and spread. The
forests were cleared to provide wood for shelter and fields for pasture and crops.
Mankind had set up camp. No longer just a visitor in someone else's world, he
pushed the wild back from his newly built doorstep. At first this wasn't a problem.
There weren't many people and everyone else felt that it was only fair to allot them
their own little half acre to do with as they wished. Some of them even decided to
help out. Gnomes moved into the barnhouses and helped out with the gardening
chores. The devic spirits of the vegetables helped the humans better organize their
crops and plan rotation, and taught them the correlation between planetary and
lunar cycles and the agricultural year, plant radishes when the moon is in Cancer,
harvest when the moon is in Taurus. Many trolls felt that the heaping piles of
manure were a change for the better, and decided to stick around too.


The rest of the wood creatures just backed off into the wood,
playing mischievous tricks on the new settlers, like turning the
milk sour, rearranging furniture tipping the cows, tickling people's
faces in their sleep, and occasionally stealing babies and leaving
bundles of wood in their place.


But man's dominion spread (and spread and spread and spread), and the forests got
smaller and smaller and smaller. Things got real crowded in the woods, and things
were getting worse in civilization. Most farmers weren't listening to the devic spirits
anymore. People found that they could increase their output by disregarding the
needs of the Earth. They were raising productivity and killing the soil.
Petrochemicals were just a step away. Most of the devic spirits and the gnomes
fled. The trolls stayed. Today they live mostly under bridges and in the shallow,
mucky ditches beneath the metal grating on farm roads that cows are afraid to
cross. Be sure to honk your horn before driving over one of these. A troll may be
hanging from the grate, swinging over its living room, as they are apt to do after
rolling in muck and manure, If you don't give a warning honk, you may run over its
fingers, and it's not a great idea to get either your name or your license plate number
on a troll's caca list.



Now there is little wild land left at all, and even that is shrinking at an
unprecedented rate. There is simply not enough space for all the gnomes and elves,
fauns and faeries, goblins, ogres, trolls and bogies, nymphs, sprites, and dryads.



So where are they?

They didn't go anywhere!

You did.

Early humans had an intuitive knowledge of their role in nature, just as bears and raccoons and mice and every other creature does. They understood, from the ways of the wild around them, that nothing ever comes from nowhere and nothing ever just disappears. Things change form. Death is necessary for life to continue. They offered up their kills as sacrifices to the gods of nature. They offered praise, prayer, sacrifice, and song to the spirits of the wild, to brother buffalo, brother deer, brother fish, and brother tree.


Everything that has ever existed continues to exist, in one form or another, and as far as we can tell, humanity was more aware of that back then they are now. So the sacrifice, song, praise and prayer did not ensure the immortality of the slaughtered, either in body or in spirit. That was already taken care of. What it did ensure was the continuance of the connection between the spirit of the slaughterer and the spirit of the slaughtered. Killing is risky business. The membrane separating the internal from the external is not necessarily as thick or as clearly defined as we have come to believe. Every time we kill, we risk killing the reality of that thing inside of ourselves as well as outside. We risk breaking the connections that lead in and out.

Taking life to feed life requires a keen understanding of the natural law of give and take.
When humanity lost that understanding, gave up the songs, the sacrifice, the prayers,
the praise, they lost the connection. Saying grace is not enough.

When you lose those connections, everything becomes dead - fish, rivers, frogs,
mice, even each other. There is no way they can reach inside you any more. The five
senses you are left with are not enough. You have given up those connections in
exchange for the freedom to clearcut forests with skidders, turn cows into milk
machines and chickens into egg factories. You can experiment on animals, club
seals, wear mink coats, exterminate passenger pigeons, dodo birds, whales, bear,
dolphin and condor with not a twinge of guilt. The lines have been severed.



We are under the impression that it is the forests, the creatures, the spirits,
and the wildlands that are disappearing from the universe and not we. Not so.
Thinking that is like thinking that if you stand on the end of a limb and saw that
limb from the tree, the tree will fall and you will remain standing. Bugs Bunny might
be able to get away with that, but we can't. When a marionette cuts its strings, the
puppeteer doesn't collapse to the ground. When a spider severs the lines that
connect its web to the trees, the forest doesn't fall away.
It is we who have fallen away from the real world into a world where we may carry
out our twisted sterile dreams without threatening the Earth and its inhabitants. Ever
wonder why the trees and stones and rivers and streams, the birds, the snakes, the
bears and the frogs no longer talk to us as they did in the early tales of the Native
Americans, the Hindus, the Africans, the Bible? It's because we're not around to
talk to any more Every clearcut, every vivisection, every mechanized slaughter of
cow, pig, or chicken moves our dreamworld farther and farther from the tree,
making a reunification, which is still possible, more and more difficult

Somewhere not so far from here, in the real world, the ancient forests are still
standing, the buffalo roam the prairies, the sky is full of condors, the deer and the
antelope play, and dodo birds wander the sandy beaches, bumping into things.

Where there are still wildlands in our dreamworld, strong connections still exist.
Bridges, tunnels, and portals. Occasionally a traveler will get lost in the wilderness
and find himself in the real world, returning the next day to find that a hundred
years have passed, or never returning at all.

There are more ephemeral connections as well - brooks and waterfalls where you
can still hear voices from the other side, if you listen carefully enough. When they
sit by these waters they hear loud clanking and screams. When they eat psilocybin
everything stops glowing, and condos rise where forests stand. Our children can see
the otherworld in their dreams. The children of the otherworld
see this one in their nightmares.


And there is another connection. Sometimes agents from the other side infiltrate our world in an attempt to expedite the reunification. Believe it or not, they miss us over there. Sometimes - more often than you might think - they send souls over to our born in this world. Sort of like a socialist, communist, or anarchist entering the American political arena and running for office in an attempt to effect change from the inside. There are quite a lot of them actually - gnomes and elves, fauns and faeries, goblins, ogres, trolls and bogies, nymphs, sprites, and dryads - running around in bodies that look human, doing crazy things like writing on walls, working in co-ops, running inns in the mountains, talking to themselves in the streets, making pottery, illustrating children's books, spiking trees and blowing up tractors. They are planting bio-dynamic gardens, sitting in the back yard naked, arguing with Satan. They are in asylums pumped full of thorazine, in the classroom on Ritalin and lithium. They live with Indians. They run recycling centers. They are starting revolutions, corrupting the young, inventing paranoid conspiracy theories, making up religions. They're directing movies, gobbling acid, drinking heavily and writing poetry.

The transition from their world to ours is not an easy one. Intricate rituals and
incantations are involved. The transition is not easy on the soul. A great deal is lost.
They may have no idea who or what they are at first. They may or may not find
out. They will know that they are not like everyone else. They will know that this
world is not theirs. They will faintly remember something better, where things made
sense and worked like they ought to, where love and magic had the power to heal.
They will know that what makes other people happy does not make them happy,
and that what makes them happy makes them happier than anyone else alive.
They will see things others cannot see, hear things others cannot hear, feel things
others cannot feel, and know things others do not know.

They will laugh a great deal or cry a great deal or both.
They will love humans individually,
but have a hard time with humanity as a whole
that may occasionally approach loathing.

They will have a handful of very close friends, and often be very lonely.
They will be unhappiest when forced to act like a human and do the things that
humans do, want the things that humans want, or when they are convinced that
they actually are one.

Things will not be easy for them. Because of their memories of the other side, the
world will seem to them to be a wondrous calliope with just a few teeth missing on
one of the cogs, and because of this tiny deficiency, the music is all off key, the
horses are crashing into each other, and the children are frightened, bruised and crying.



The solutions will seem obvious and no one else will listen.

They will be repeatedly punished for shouting FIRE! in a crowded theater when the
buildings are in flames no one else can see. They will get slapped on the wrist for
pointing to the EXIT signs when everyone else is running around screaming and
trampling each other.

They will be zealous, fanatical, and didactic about their beliefs. They will feel
utterly confused.They will have ecstatic visions and babble incoherently.
They will be extremely articulate. They are prone to long periods of silence.
They have no idea how to say what they really mean.

They will spend a lot of time with children and animals
They will become drunkards and dope fiends, organic gardeners, Essene
soapmakers, carpenters, madmen, magicians, jugglers and clowns, lunatic
physicists, painters and scribblers, travelers and wanderers.

They will dress in bright colors, frumpy sweaters, or all black.
They will smoke too much and drink too much. They will eat only macrobiotic
foods. They will develop addictions to Mountain Dew.

They will often be accused of living in their own fantasy world.
They will make great lovers. Yeah, even the trolls.

They will spend too much time either making love or thinking about it.
They will speak to inanimate objects.

They will have much brighter eyes than everyone else.
They will expect their magic to work in this world and their love to heal,
and they will be crushed by this world, and often they won't expect it.

It will come close to killing them.



They will visit the places where the connections still exist: the waterfalls, the
mountains, the ocean, the forests. They will draw on all the power they have, and
sometimes, sometimes, the magic will work. And everything will be wondrously
easy. The teeth will grow back on the calliope's cog, the tune will right itself, the
horses will bob gracefully up and down, around and around, and the children will
giggle and sing with cotton candy stuck to their cheeks and noses.

They will spend their days trying to reconnect a branch that millions are still busy
sawing away at. Often it will be more than they can bear.

While the rest of humanity is busy working on new and more efficient ways to lay
waste to the Earth with the push of a button, they are saving it, a handful at a time.
They will share a common conviction that they are the only sane individuals in a
world gone mad.



They will be right
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