<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033</id><updated>2011-07-14T04:24:29.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PAREIDOLIA</title><subtitle type='html'>The personal notes and opinions of The Shadowy Mr. Evans.

Please email me with any questions or comments at TShadowyMrEvans@aol.com. 

(Let me know in the subject that it concerns my blog, lest I erase you as spam!)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>35</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107662741813083481</id><published>2004-02-12T14:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-13T01:37:52.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>HYPNEROTOMACHIA POLIPHILIPublished in 1499 by an unidentifiable author, partly a fictional romance, partly a scholarly treatise, and partly a political manifesto, featuring a barely-pronounceable title and indecipherable texts, the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili  is perhaps the most fascinating and enigmatic books ever written.It is an anachronism. Modelled on the bucolic romanzo d’amore,  a topoi</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107662741813083481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107662741813083481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107662741813083481' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107662542447273164</id><published>2004-02-12T14:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-13T01:37:26.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Too long since I last posted. Once again the real world intrudes on my rich fantasy life, this time ending with the dissolution of my engagement. My friends know the details already, or know where to find them on the various message board communities that offered me emotional support during the storm. And here I am now in the eye of the tornado. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107662542447273164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107662542447273164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107662542447273164' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107481926885431519</id><published>2004-01-22T16:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-23T01:58:43.513-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Studying a religion has nothing whatsoever to do with belonging to one. Sunday Church service has about as much to do with the Christian religion as the Cliff Notes series has to do with english literature. After several years of studying the Christian (and related) religions it seemed about time for me to once again give church a chance, if for no other reason than to proclaim "been there, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107481926885431519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107481926885431519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107481926885431519' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107481746312677925</id><published>2004-01-22T16:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-22T16:26:25.936-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Religion and Science. Only recently were these two pursuits presented as contrary or antagonistic. For most of Western history, they were inseperable, conjoined, amalgamated. Probably best to blame Darwin, he makes an easy scapegoat. Evolution vs Creationism. Its not quite that simple of course. Better to say "Evolutionary theory vs Dogmatic Literal-Interpretations of the Bible" or "the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107481746312677925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107481746312677925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107481746312677925' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107460786512316753</id><published>2004-01-20T05:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-20T06:13:04.796-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The invasion of religion (or the banal facsimile offered by my parents) into my life left me bitter and resentful. I was young, rebellious and angry-a walking pre-pubescent cliche. Naive enough to accept such theories as the transcient or philosophical nature of good and evil; that both are merely human expressions based on societal factors and personal views, of no universal or greater </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107460786512316753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107460786512316753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107460786512316753' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107460683742538122</id><published>2004-01-20T05:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-20T05:55:56.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My family comes from a part Catholic/part Presbyterian background, though I personally was raised an athiest. Religion held little interest for me for most of my childhood. It wasn't until the prelude to my father's emotional collapse, the beginning's of his midlife crisis, that I was suddenly forced to deal with religion as an intrusive part of my life.I'm likely unaware of the whole story-I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107460683742538122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107460683742538122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107460683742538122' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107460417243768743</id><published>2004-01-20T05:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-20T05:12:30.090-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Its been a few days since I've written anything for my blog and I'm not happy about that. My current job is annoying me, and quite unsatisfying. I'm experiencing severe burnout. Creativelly speaking, I've been working practically non-stop on one of my books. Rather the research. A problem arises in that the further the research progresses, the more daunting the task looks. I'm lucky if I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107460417243768743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107460417243768743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107460417243768743' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107434878327776149</id><published>2004-01-17T03:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-17T16:29:02.250-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The wisest man I never knew existed in a reality close to this one, but one that only I seem to recall. I sometimes find it hard to separate dreams and memories, and often mistake memories of dreams for vague recollections of events that never were. If I am the only one who can remember an event , did it ever really happen? Can reality be proven without verifycation? Is an event's reality </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107434878327776149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107434878327776149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107434878327776149' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-10742491541900530</id><published>2004-01-16T02:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-16T02:34:27.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I wrote the preceeding essay in 2000 for submission to a now-defunct fanzine called The Hellboyologists. The founder of that fanzine is the publisher-editor of the fanzine I'm currently involved with, and there is a distinct possibilty an updated, expanded , and thoroughly revised version of that essay I'm currently working on will see print in a book devoted to the study of modern pulp horror. (</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/10742491541900530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/10742491541900530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#10742491541900530' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107424852105152881</id><published>2004-01-16T02:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-16T02:28:03.450-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>UNDERCURRENTS OF LOSS IN  ''THE CORPSE"	" Soon I think the King will gather us, 	  and march us down into the shadows under 	  the world where the old people go.	  Too late the Sons of Adam will cry: 	' Where are the children of the Earth? ' 	  Gone. Look for, but you shall not find them.	  Weep...For they are gone forever."Thus ensues the bittersweet ending of  The Corpse, Hellboy's </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107424852105152881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107424852105152881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107424852105152881' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107416736326841346</id><published>2004-01-15T02:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-15T03:51:15.450-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Richard Dadd's behaviour became increasingly erratic after the incident in Egypt. He expressed paranoid delusions that he was being pursued, and acted manifestly violent towards Phillips. In Rome, Dadd was overcome by an uncontrollable urge to attack the Pope during a public appearance. By the time the pair reached Paris in the spring of 1843, Dadd's symptons increased to the point that Phillips </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107416736326841346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107416736326841346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107416736326841346' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107416454070422008</id><published>2004-01-15T02:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-15T03:04:13.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Richard Dadd was born in the town of Catham, in Kent, on the first of August, 1817. He was the fourth of seven children born to Robert and Mary Ann Dadd.Richard attended The King's School at Rochester as a child. By at least the age of 13, he was sketching seriously. At the age of 20, Richard was admitted to the Royal Academy of Art. Richard won several awards while at the academy, and began </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107416454070422008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107416454070422008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107416454070422008' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107409178122858299</id><published>2004-01-14T05:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-14T06:51:32.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Ada LovelaceA subject of a peculiar fascination for me, Ada Lovelace was the daughter of Lord Byron. Close friends with Charles Babbage (the creator of The Difference Engine), Charles Dickens, and Michael Faraday, Ada's interests ranged from music to gambling to computers. Like her infamous father, Ada's life was incredibly short-she died at the age of 36. Ada is perhaps best known for her </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107409178122858299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107409178122858299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107409178122858299' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107408721006354510</id><published>2004-01-14T05:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-14T05:35:21.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"But indeed the business of the universe is to make such a fool of you that you will know yourself for one, and so begin to be wise!"                                     - Mr. Raven, LILITH by George MacDonald</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107408721006354510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107408721006354510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107408721006354510' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107390233183265404</id><published>2004-01-12T02:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-12T02:13:47.760-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>PARSIFAL online for anyone interested: http://home.c2i.net/monsalvat/trans0.htm(thanks to Curt on Tangency)At the age of 20, Wagner began work on his first Opera, "Die Feen", "The Faeries". His first success came with his third work "Rienzi". Though it was, like both his previous efforts, a pompous, shallow, posturing work of pagaentry and little depth.The contrast between these early works </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107390233183265404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107390233183265404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107390233183265404' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107386880405499271</id><published>2004-01-11T16:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-11T16:57:47.796-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Reading Wagner today.I've never been particularly fond of The Ring Cycle, my curiosity towards it has never extended far beyond any influences it might have had on Tolkien's writings. PARSIFAL, on the other hand, I find absolutely fascinating."Parsifal: I move only a little, yet already I seem to have gone so far.Gurnemanz: you see, my son, here time turns into space. (The whole </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107386880405499271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107386880405499271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107386880405499271' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107378174511348510</id><published>2004-01-10T16:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-11T00:15:15.880-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The next big event in my history with roleplaying came when I encountered White Wolf's Changeling: The Dreaming. That system spoke to me. I devoured the book and was completely enraptured by the White Wolf gameline in its entirety. Mind you, this was quite a while before I first heard the term pretentious. From Changeling, I went on to buy Wraith, Mage and Vampire, and at one time actually owned </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107378174511348510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107378174511348510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107378174511348510' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107377768958086091</id><published>2004-01-10T15:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-10T15:46:55.783-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>RoleplayingI first encountered RPGs in 1987 or 88, while living in Pennsylvania. In my class I had a friend by the name of Chris Thunderberg who showed me a large hardcover book by the name of WARHAMMER FANTASY ROLEPLAYING. I was instantly hooked. Chris also lent me the first of a series of novels called Dragonlance. I knew ostensibly about the existence of Dungeons and Dragons before that </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107377768958086091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107377768958086091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107377768958086091' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107377537873399497</id><published>2004-01-10T14:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-10T14:56:38.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The three-eyed people represent humanity at an enlightened stage of our evolving developement through various lifetimes. In Buddhism the third eye is called dibba-cakkhu, the "super-human divine eye", with the power to see the passing away and rebirth of beings.The Buddha Siddhartha remembered all his past lives; this is why he was given the title of Buddha, which means "enlightened one". From </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107377537873399497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107377537873399497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107377537873399497' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107373918580371018</id><published>2004-01-10T04:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-10T04:53:23.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>For those readers somewhat confused by my recent religious diversions, it is a bit of a window into the way I think. On a daily basis I am consumed by any number of thoughts, generally focused towards a single philosophical concept. This concept is often triggered or influenced by what books I'm reading, what movies I'm watching, and, rarely, what music I'm listening to. Using this blog as a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107373918580371018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107373918580371018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107373918580371018' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107369151837871152</id><published>2004-01-09T15:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-09T15:38:58.536-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>PHYLOGENIC MEMORY is memory of the species. Not one's own memory, but ontogenic memory.the individual contains the history of his entire race, back to its origins. This is gene pool memory, the memory of the DNA.Like a holographic puzzle, every single piece contains the same image presented by the whole.An irruption from the collective unconscious, Jung taught, can wipe out the fragile </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107369151837871152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107369151837871152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107369151837871152' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107369099497130877</id><published>2004-01-09T15:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-16T05:34:43.873-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hermes Trismegistos, the messenger-God of the Greeks, is the namesake of the Hermetic Order. In Greek myths, Hermes was the keeper of secrets, the conveyor of wisdom, and herald of the gods. He also taught the healing arts of medicine to mankind.Paracelsus, the great physician of the Renaissance, discovered that poisons, in measured doses, could be used as remedies. Paracelsus was the first to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107369099497130877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107369099497130877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107369099497130877' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107368928428107267</id><published>2004-01-09T15:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-09T15:01:44.800-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The source of Christianity is the Dogon people of the Western Sudan. They use the fish-sign for Nommo, the benign twin (Form I or Yang). Form II, or Yin, is Yuguru, whom Nommo was forced to slay.In Japanese cosmogonical myth, the female twin dies giving birth to fire, then she descends underground. The male twin follows her to attempt to restore her, but finds her decomposing and giving birth </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107368928428107267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107368928428107267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107368928428107267' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107368795055535068</id><published>2004-01-09T14:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-09T14:39:30.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>" And the Lord God said, Behold, the man is become as one of us, to know good and evil: and now, lest he put forth his hand and take also of the Tree of Life, and eat, and live forever: Therefore the Lord God sent him forth from the Garden of Eden,"  GENESIS 3:22-23The Gnostic version of Eden fable posits that there are two Gods: The TRUE God, a purely spiritual being who interacts with </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107368795055535068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107368795055535068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107368795055535068' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107368641703078468</id><published>2004-01-09T14:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-09T14:13:57.413-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A "Hylozoist" is someone who believes the universe is alive. This idea is commonly reffered to as either pantheism or pan-psychism, and is divided into two main branches:1) Every object in the universe is independently alive2) Everything in the universe is one thing, alive, with one mind, i.e. , everything is one unitary entity.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107368641703078468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107368641703078468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107368641703078468' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107365365882308275</id><published>2004-01-09T05:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-09T05:07:59.130-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>MIMESIS nounL. Lat., from the Greek mimEsis, from mimeisthaiImitation or Mimicry, especially of the kind employed by several species of insect: imitating a twig or another type of insect.Biologists have speculated that higher forms of mimicry might exist, since the "lower forms", (forms that fool predators but not us), are found world-wide. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107365365882308275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107365365882308275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107365365882308275' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107365317166848474</id><published>2004-01-09T04:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-09T04:59:51.260-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>" My dear people, we are already the children of God but what we are to be in the future has not yet been revealed; all we know is, that we shall be like him because we shall see him as he really is."  1 JOHN 3: 1-2We shall be like him. Does that mean that mankind is isomorphic with God?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107365317166848474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107365317166848474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107365317166848474' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107365290024398333</id><published>2004-01-09T04:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-09T04:55:19.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The so-called "Secrecy Theme" in Mark and Mathew comes from the idea that Jesus Christ vieled his teachings in parable form so that the multitude of readers or listeners would misunderstand him and thus not be saved.According to this view, Christ intended salvation only for his flock. A perhaps less sinister view of this theme suggests that a person was not ready for salvation until he was able</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107365290024398333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107365290024398333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107365290024398333' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107365237094762734</id><published>2004-01-09T04:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-09T04:48:32.020-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The earliest surviving manuscripts of the books composing The New Testament were written in Koine Greek, though the source of the synoptics were most likely written in Aramaic, which is the form of Hebrew that Jesus spoke. The Greek word koine simply means "common". By the time of the New Testament, in the Middle East Koine Greek was the lingua franca, surplanting Aramaic, which had previously </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107365237094762734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107365237094762734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107365237094762734' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107365172749332188</id><published>2004-01-09T04:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-09T04:35:47.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>EXEGESIS pl. exegesesN. Lat., from the Greek exEgEsis, from exEgeisthai: to explain, interpret.A theological term describing a piece of writing that explains or interprets a portion of scripture.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107365172749332188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107365172749332188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107365172749332188' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107364565191767328</id><published>2004-01-09T02:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-09T02:55:13.170-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Visited Powells Bookstore in Portland today. Despite a signifigant amount of store credit, I was in the end only able to find one book that was impervious to my constant rationalizations about not needing any new books at this time. Especially one that isn't already on my "list of books to get." The book was, however, by an author whom I hold in high enough esteem that I wish to eventually </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107364565191767328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107364565191767328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107364565191767328' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107353508755727469</id><published>2004-01-07T20:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-07T20:11:47.446-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Watching AnimeSome of my earliest memories of cartoons I watched as a child were the show Astroboy and a cartoon I later found out was called Battle of the Planets (G-Force in the United States). Voltron also left quite an impression on me, as well as a cartoon series based on the French book The Little Prince that I'm rather certain was a Japanese production. These were, ostensibly, my first </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107353508755727469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107353508755727469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107353508755727469' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107347371794521258</id><published>2004-01-07T03:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-07T21:42:10.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>An Intoduction And Brief BiographyHello all new readers, my name is T.S. Evans, called "Sam" by my friends. I am 24 years old and currently reside in Salem, Oregon. I was born in Scotland in 1979, and was raised in Eastern Canada for most of my childhood-first Nova Scotia, and then Ontario.  I've moved frequently since then. I was put up for adoption by my real mother, who was 16 when I was </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107347371794521258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107347371794521258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107347371794521258' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107347178409865114</id><published>2004-01-07T02:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-07T02:36:43.443-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Okay, I think I've got the hang of this. Very cool. Moving upwards on the computer geek status ladder! Well, maybe not, I'm sure once again I'm finally joining the last remnants of a fading internet fad. Such is the fate of the cyber-inept. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107347178409865114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107347178409865114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107347178409865114' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6296033.post-107347066377344379</id><published>2004-01-07T02:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-07T02:23:32.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>January 7th 20042 am at night. I'm clumsily attempting to create a blog for myself, to promote a more regular writing schedule. This, coupled with my continued participation in the S.S.W.F.T. fanzine and various personal projects, will hopefully dissuade my tendencies to procrastinate and allow me to complete various long-term literary goals. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107347066377344379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6296033/posts/default/107347066377344379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pareidolia.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107347066377344379' title=''/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04903804376948794323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
