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History
This will be a short post and is more akin to a stream of consciousness. Over the years I have come to realise that a lot of what we have been told about history is a lie, a fraud, a sinister deception. I have come to realise that the past has been carefully reconstructed and a narrative has been pushed onto the masses that not only seeks to suppress the truth; it seeks to destroy the world as we know it today. Extreme, I hear you say? Yes, yes it is extreme, but after twenty plus years of studying history, I have no choice but to accept this point of view. How many people know, for example, that millions of European Christians were massacred, obliterated from the face of the earth under Bolshevism? That an entire class disappeared: the class as depicted by Tolstoy, by Dostoevsky. That Christians were horrifically tortured and starved to death. That they were forced to eat excrement and drink urine as a mockery of Holy Communion. That they were enslaved in gulags, the thousands of gulags that existed. That a royal line had disappeared in Russia and those who committed this crime are still, to this day, unpunished for this massacre. That by the time Hitler came to power in Germany, millions had already perished in the east of Europe, including many Germans. Yet it is the Germans who are demonised, viewed as genocidal monsters hellbent on world domination. But is this true? Can this be confirmed by primary sources? We are told that World War One and World War Two was a fight for freedom and democracy. Lie. That the war on Iraq was a fight for freedom and democracy? Lies. That the French Revolution was about liberty and equality and fraternity. But was it? That the dark ages were dark and bleak and backward and full of superstition. Yet the Byzantine Empire in the east reigned and majestically so. History is boring. That old cliche repeated by students throughout the world. But it is not. For he who controls the past controls the future and he who controls the present controls the past - to quote the prophet himself Orwell. History is not boring. It is the font of wisdom and of life itself. It is freedom from intellectual bondage. There is now no excuse for ignorance. We have access to information we have never had before thanks to the internet. We have access to primary sources which enable us to construct a more accurate understanding of the past. Study history. Study those sources that would offend and scandalise you. Henry Ford once said History is Bunk. He was right, in so many ways. But we now have a chance, with freedom of information now available to us, to prove him wrong and recreate a more just, more objective and truer understanding of history and of ourselves.
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 Man’s Best Friend: A reflection on Argos the Dog
Homer’s Odyssey is a masterpiece of literature, rich with vivid characters and mythological wonder; there is adventure, suffering, joy, hospitality, love, loss and the imminence of death around every corner. From Circe the Witch who transforms men into swine, to Cyclops who gobble up men only to fall asleep content, to a wife weeping for the loss of her husband, it has something for everyone. Yet the story that touches me the most is one of a dog named Argos. He only appears briefly in this epic. He is most pitiable, wretched and near death. He is a victim of clear neglect and abuse, and one weeps when the hero, Odysseus, sees the dog for the first time after some twenty years. You see, this is Odysseus’ dog, now dumped outside the palace and sitting upon dung. He was the dog of a King, a hero, a hunter’s dog with skill and grace and strength. As we learn: While (Odysseus) spoke An old hound, lying near, pricked up his ears And lifted his muzzle. This was Argos, Trained as a puppy by Odysseus, But never taken on a hunt before His master sailed for Troy. The young men, afterward, Hunted wild goats with him, and hare, and deer, But he had grown old in his master’s absence. Treated as rubbish now, he lay at last, Upon a mass of dung before the gates – Abandoned there, and half destroyed with flies, Old Argos lay. The image is descriptive, haunting and brutal. Homer dedicates a number of lines to tell the reader of the suffering of this once majestic creature. He is abandoned, with his master gone for so long, treated as rubbish by the parasites now flocking to the palace to steal Odysseus’ wealth. Argos is in anguish, clearly, with no one to care for him. Once used for hunting expeditions, he is cast away in his old age. His master is no longer there to protect him. Yet, note that when he hears Odysseus’ voice, he pricks up his ears, he lifts his muzzle. With effort, no doubt, with all the strength he has left in his poor, broken body. But he hears the voice of his master as he clings on to life. But why is he clinging on to life? The next passage further elaborates on Argos’ transformation upon hearing Odysseus’ voice: But when he knew he heard Odysseus’ voice nearby, he did his best To wag his tail, nose down, with flattened ears, Having no strength to move nearer his master. And the man looked away, Wiping a salt tear from his cheek; but he Hid this from Eumaios. Homer wants the listener to know that Argos did his best to wag his tail, to acknowledge that he recognised his master, to show a semblance of happiness and joy despite his current anguish. Homer doesn’t miss any of the details we associate with canine behaviour: Argos’ tail wagged, his nose was down, his ears were flattened. Yet, with so little strength, he could not move nearer to his master. He wanted to, we are led to believe. He wanted to run up and embrace Odysseus with the love and devotion only a dog knows. Odysseus is moved by what he sees; by the sufferings of his Argos. And he weeps. But, as he is disguised as a beggar, he questions his friend Eumaios about why the dog is in such a neglected state. Eumaios answers: “I marvel that they leave this hound to lie Here on the dung pile; He would have been a fine dog, from the look of him, Though I can’t say as to his power and speed When he was young...” And you replied, Eumaios: “A hunter owned him-but the man is dead In some far place. If this old hound could show The form he had when Lord Odysseus left him, He never shrank from any savage thing He’d brought to bay in the deep woods; on the scent No other dog kept up with him. Now misery Has him in leash. His owner died abroad, And here the women slaves will take no care of him.” With Odysseus’ absence came a string of suitors from nearby kingdoms to claim Ithaka as theirs, and to likewise claim Penelope, the wife of Odysseus. They feast continuously, gorge themselves on the fat of the land (of another), appear to be indifferent to the suffering of Penelope and the son of Odysseus – Telemachus. They are straight out and out thugs, parasites and ungrateful. It is they who have relegated Argos to the dung heap. It is they who have discarded him once he was of no use. It is because of these men that Argos is now bound by the leash of misery. Day after day, week after week. Dying a slow death when once he was the beloved of a King. But it continues: Eumaios crossed the court and went straight forward Into the megaron among the suitors; But death and darkness in that instant closed The eyes of Argos, who had seen his master, Odysseus, after twenty years. (Book XVII – Lines 375-422) Ah, what pathos, what beauty! I asked – why is Argos clinging on to life? And this probes me further, to reflect on that mystical connection between humans and dogs. To ask, do dogs know? Do they know of the mysteries of life, of the supernatural? Do they know when their master has died? Do they know when they themselves will die? Do they know that their master will return, so they must cling on until they – these faithful servants – lay their eyes upon them for one last time? You have been faithful with a few things, Christ uttered in one of his parables. Argos had been faithful in many things. He had clung to life, riddled with flies, starving. Tied up, not able to move, treated scornfully and with indifference where once he was treated with love and devotion. But he did not give up. This faithful servant knew Odysseus would come back. For upon seeing Odysseus, Argos’s eyes closed – those eyes that had just seen his master. Death and darkness enveloped him, he who had been surrounded by death and darkness in the world of the living. He clung onto hope, the hope that he would see his master. Job once asked: Where then is my hope— who can see any hope for me? He too had been relegated to life on a dung heap; scorned and ridiculed by men. He who once lived a kingly life. And when God revealed to Job the wonders of his creation, Job realised he was insignificant in the scheme of things. But he never gave up hope that God was with him. So too Argos; he never gave up hope. He clung with all his strength. He closed his eyes and although death and darkness enveloped him, he had seen his master as if risen from the dead. Homer wants us to care for Argos and his plight. He wants us to see a connection between Argos and Odysseus, a spiritual connection, a connection that reflects that mystical bond between humans and dogs that is eternal. Which will always be eternal. Dedicated to Angel, a beautiful Rhodesian Ridgeback cross who never got a chance at a second life.  Christ’s Holiness, Christ’s Humanity (continued) In this post-Christian world (so they say), I would like to share with you the paintings of a Russian Artist named Alexander Lepetuhin, who, upon being told by doctors he had only perhaps four years left to live, devoted his energies into his Faith. “Fine, I decided. Then all that time I will spend drawing Christ and his apostles.” Thus was born the Cycle of some 1000 Paintings of the Life of Christ and the Apostles. For further information, see: https://russian-faith.com/culture/renown-russian-artist-finds-out-he-dying-paints-1000-paitings-about-christ-n1555 5. The Road to Emmaus: Now behold, two of them were traveling that same day to a village called Emmaus, which was [e]seven miles from Jerusalem. And they talked together of all these things which had happened. So it was, while they conversed and reasoned, that Jesus Himself drew near and went with them. But their eyes were restrained, so that they did not know Him. And He said to them, “What kind of conversation is this that you have with one another as you [f]walk and are sad?” Then the one whose name was Cleopas answered and said to Him, “Are You the only stranger in Jerusalem, and have You not known the things which happened there in these days?” And He said to them, “What things?” (Luke 24:13-19)  Christ’s Holiness, Christ’s Humanity
(continued...) In this post-Christian world (so they say), I would like to share with you the paintings of a Russian Artist named Alexander Lepetuhin, who, upon being told by doctors he had only perhaps four years left to live, devoted his energies into his Faith. “Fine, I decided. Then all that time I will spend drawing Christ and his apostles.” Thus was born the Cycle of some 1000 Paintings of the Life of Christ and the Apostles. The paintings are hauntingly beautiful in their simplicity. Jesus’ humanity is depicted with realistic pathos. Whether with the maimed, the crippled, with women or children, he is the Word becoming flesh dwelling in the world of flesh, in the fallen world of sin and brokenness. Yet he comes to heal, to restore a fallen world. He calls us to follow him on the path towards the Kingdom of Heaven. He calls us to challenge the powers that be and to smash the darkness with holiness. For further information, see: https://russian-faith.com/culture/renown-russian-artist-finds-out-he-dying-paints-1000-paitings-about-christ-n1555 4. Jesus Dies: Now when the sixth hour had come, there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour. And at the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?” which is translated, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” And Jesus cried out with a loud voice, and breathed His last… Now when evening had come, because it was the Preparation Day, that is, the day before the Sabbath, Joseph of Arimathea, a prominent council member, who was himself waiting for the kingdom of God, coming and taking courage, went in to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Pilate marvelled that He was already dead; and summoning the centurion, he asked him if He had been dead for some time. So when he found out from the centurion, he granted the body to Joseph. (Mark 15: 33-34, 37, 42-47)  Christ’s Holiness, Christ’s Humanity
In this post-Christian world (so they say), I would like to share with you the paintings of a Russian Artist named Alexander Lepetuhin, who, upon being told by doctors he had only perhaps four years left to live, devoted his energies into his Faith. “Fine, I decided. Then all that time I will spend drawing Christ and his apostles.” Thus was born the Cycle of some 1000 Paintings of the Life of Christ and the Apostles. For further information, see: https://russian-faith.com/culture/renown-russian-artist-finds-out-he-dying-paints-1000-paitings-about-christ-n1555 3. Jesus Prays: And He was withdrawn from them about a stone’s throw, and He knelt down and prayed, saying, “Father, if it is Your will, take this cup away from Me; nevertheless not My will, but Yours, be done.” Then an angel appeared to Him from heaven, strengthening Him. And being in agony, He prayed more earnestly. Then His sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground. (Luke 22: 41-44) |
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October 2019
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