Demonic Forces in the Loo

I used to sprint out of the little bathroom in our duplex apartment when I was a kid. I must have been about 8 or 9 years old. Every time I used the bathroom, after I washed my hands and turned the doorknob to leave, something would brush my leg. I would bolt out of there in a panic-provoked sprint of supernatural terror every time.

I was sure it was some kind of ghost or spirit or something. Now, this may sound silly to many, but to me as a kid, head full of religious ideas of apocalypse, fire and brimstone, demons, and antichrist evil, this touch on the leg in the dark was petrifying.

I remember when I finally figured out what it was. Once, when the touch was stronger than ever, I realized it was just the toilet paper on the toilet paper roller touching my thigh. No demons, no ghosts, just a somewhat poorly designed and cramped bathroom.

Why do I mention all of this?

I'd like to go back in time, if we can, to the age of wandering tribes, nomads, and "cavemen." In these groups, societies, and cultures, if you weren't strong--or joined with somebody strong--you were most likely dead or going to die at some point relatively soon. With predators and competing tribes and groups all around, "flying solo" just wasn't going to cut it.

Now imagine yourself, there in your little primitive group, wondering why sometimes the sky rumbled with terrific flashes of light scorching things on the landscape. Why wild animals sometimes mauled people. Why some mountains seemed to have angry, fiery spirits of smoke and wrath residing upon them. Before science had laid things things plain for all humans to understand, these things were just as mysterious as the evil touch I received every time I left that duplex bathroom.

Fast forward to the ancient Aztecs. Hearts being ripped out of the chest cavities of still conscious victims. Some sources estimate that over 20,000 were murdered every year in this fashion. Why did they do it? Because they believed that all life came from the gods, and that they must pay something in return. They also did it for good weather, and to bring a plentiful crop. Can you see where I am going with all of this?

The State and the "Divine Right" of Kings

With all this fear floating around way back when, and diseases, plunderers and inexplicable and frightening phenomena to be had a-plenty, it is easy to see why people would want a ruler. A leader. Someone who would explain the inexplicable. Someone to protect them. Someone, really, to be responsible.

It is especially easy to see how some of the less savory characters running around would have seen a golden opportunity to exploit these widespread fears, and manipulate and subjugate the populace as a "human engine" of sorts for their own material wealth, personal comforts, political gain, and influence.

Imagine a group of people who thinks a rampant disease is "God's punishment" for "evil living." These people are scared shitless. Now imagine the asshole from your high school chemistry class who used steal your answers and then push you into the locker after class, putting on a big silly robe, and claiming to have direct communication with God. Welcome to the priesthood of statism.

Now, I am not saying that all priests are or were malevolent and "bad," but you can easily see how this position of power is one that no man really should be able to hold. The potential for, and propensity to, abuse and destruction is immeasurable. And yet, because of fear, people believed the words of the priests (and still do) as if they had proceeded from the mouth of "God Himself."

Back to My Childhood

I was raised in an extremely religious home. A home which often was permeated by a volatile atmosphere of tension, intense negative emotions, and fear. I can still remember my sister at age 5 or 6, telling my cousins at my grandma's house not to "take the mark of the beast." "Never take the mark of the beast." It kind of makes me laugh now. But it's also sad. My sister suffered a lot from feelings of shame and guilt as a child, and this would manifest in other ways--even with extreme physical symptoms related to body image--later.

I grew up believing I was never "good enough" unless my father approved. Unless my mother said something nice. Unless "God" gave me some sort of "sign" that I was going to make it to heaven. The problem, though, was that I could never tell what in the fuck God, or my mother or father, or really anybody for that matter, was actually thinking. What was acceptable one day was staunchly condemned the next. What was unforgivable one second ago was a lighthearted, laughing matter the next.

And when the people complained, it displeased the LORD: and the LORD heard it; and his anger was kindled; and the fire of the LORD burnt among them, and consumed them that were in the uttermost parts of the camp

NUMBERS 11:1

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;

his mercies never come to an end;

they are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.

LAMENTATIONS 3:22-23

WUT?

My dad once related a story to me about his childhood. His dad--my granddad--was an extremely severe and emotionally stunted father. On one rare occasion, he had said to my dad just before he went off to bed "let my little guy come here and give me a kiss! My dad was elated. He was thrilled to be finally allowed to enter into my granddad's affections. But in a flash, BAM! Searing heat and an explosive flash of black, white, red and purple. My dad had said something "wrong" in his lighthearted mood and been struck across the face. I feel so sorry for him now writing this. How to fuck up a kid 101, with professor...my granddad.

Well, as you might guess, this stormy atmosphere is similar to the one in which I was raised. Volatile, terrifying, and illogical. I saw "God" to be the same. I learned to hide all my feelings and put on a nice face for the bullshit world. I was so good at it that I didn't even realize I was doing it. Stuffing myself down. All I wanted was the approval, and I got it. Your son is so well-behaved! We could take you anywhere! You weren't bratty like the other kids. He is such a nice boy!

Yeah. No. Fuck all of that bullshit. Here I am, now.

As I'm looking now at the mountains in the distance, I see...mountains. I can also see the smoke and fog around them as a beautiful metaphor for something beyond this world--something mysterious which invites a pregnant pause for thoughts which surpass the realm of words. I see the Bible as a book full of black ink on white pages, wherein are some gems of wisdom and the tribal scrawlings of a confused Jewish people in the desert. I look back at the ghost in the bathroom. Just toilet paper on the wall.

It's almost a lonely feeling. As if this gift of imagination cannot stand to be confined to a world which it is not allowed to make ornate with fanciful decorations of superstition, magic, and colors. Colors created solely and uniquely by the individual. I am okay with this. It is this magic which pushes us forward in the spirit of creation, compassion, and innovation. We can use this "power" for good or ill, but to not use it at all, is not to live. And conversely, to confuse the reality with the symbol is a dreadful mistake is it not? (I also believe that there is an objective reality which truly is "magic," if you will, but that will have to be the topic of another post).



American nationalist image



The tragic results of American exceptionalism and nationalism in action

How does all of this relate to the state?

Just as the folks in times past believed mountains exploding and terrible storms were signs of "God's wrath against the people" and that sunny weather, lots of children, and plentiful harvests were "God's favor," so now do they still believe that "God's favor" is something to be won, and that political entities known as "countries" can and must win it, may "possess" it, use and maintain it. GOD BLESS AMERICA.

Just as the caveman was afraid of things that he could not comprehend, so is the average propagandized citizen petrified beyond remedy of the "boogeyman" overseas. It doesn't matter that hundreds upon thousands of innocent men, women, and children have been slaughtered. These are not human. They are the "unclean" and not to be worried about. They are not "God's chosen."

Now go, attack the Amalekites and totally destroy all that belongs to them. Do not spare them; put to death men and women, children and infants, cattle and sheep, camels and donkeys.

1 SAMUEL 15:3

We call children killed in drone strikes in Middle Eastern countries "collateral damage."

We hold our hands over our hearts and pledge allegiance to the service of a painted piece of cloth.

"We" look around in desperation, seeking a medicine man, a prophet, a priest--ANYONE--who might relieve us of this terrible imposition of taking responsibility for our own lives.

"We," insofar as we have traded our own power of choice and free will for the approval of gods, states, fathers, mothers, friends or politicians, have become most hopeless and regrettably inconsequential beings in so doing.

FUCK THE TOILET PAPER GHOST.

As I heal and accept logic and my own mind as my guide, for better or for worse, I find less of a nonsensical, scary existence, and more and more of a world with real consequence, but which also seems to finally make more sense. I take a deep breath and sigh in relief as I realize that things around me are not governed by the capricious whims of some emotionally stunted man in the sky.

As I heal, I can confront the persons and things that I have allowed to harm me. I can forgive, or not. It really doesn't matter. As I understand, my mind opens. As my mind opens, so does my heart.

My healing journey takes me into all kinds of caves I had never wished to re-enter, with strange and esoteric drawings on the wall I can no longer understand, but which still in times of weakness, have the power to terrify. My mind goes numb. I retreat. I will be back later.

An individual who is whole will not tolerate the impositions of the state.

An individual who is whole will not be consumed by rage, hatred, jealousy, weakness, violence, or fear.

An individual who is whole will not follow gods, priests, idols, fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, or devils.

An individual who is whole...will LOVE.

And individual who is whole WILL NOT FOREVER COMPLY where love's name is dragged through the mud.

As more and more minds awaken, turning to face the pain and see truth in the light of a most cold and clinical scrutiny, fewer and fewer will find it tolerable to comply with toxic beliefs, institutions, individuals and organizations which have been putting them in chains.

As one man puts down his gun and refuses to kill his brother in a foreign land, as one man refuses to pay for wars which kill infants and children overseas, as one man chooses to use his own reason above that of priests, madmen and charlatans in power, so may all men follow after.

The individual becomes the most powerful entity on the planet.

ME. YOU.

Graham Smith is a Voluntaryist/Anarchist activist, writer, and creator residing in Niigata, Japan.

