Balance of Good and Evil

Archangel Michael

“Neither good nor evil can be destroyed, and both will always be here. It’s meant to be. ‘The Lord hath made all things for himself, yea, even the wicked for the day of evil.’ Our role is to achieve equilibrium. And as we do that we must respect evil and we must make evil respect us. But, at times such as now, events indicate that we’re losing balance. And time is running out.”

Back to Frank Black, pp. 135 – 136

Thoughts on “Othello” by William Shakespeare: Iago as the Serpent

It was a while since I last read this play. If I’m going to be honest (a theme that is prevalent in Othello), I never found this play to be as great as the other tragedies with which it is ranked. I always found it difficult to empathize with Othello as a tragic character. He forms his opinions and takes action based upon hearsay and circumstantial evidence (at best). But that said, of all the times I have read this play and seen it performed, I got the most out of this reading.

I took a lot of notes while reading, and considered some of the obvious things to write about: interracial marriage, black and white as they relate to good and evil, truth and honesty, envy and jealousy. But I decided I would focus on something different, specifically, the connection between Iago and the serpent in the Garden of Eden myth.

Near the end of the play, Othello sees Desdemona as the symbol of Eve, who he believes to be the downfall of man.

It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul.
Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars.
It is the cause. Yet I’ll not shed her blood,
Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,
And smooth as monumental alabaster.
Yet she must die, else she’ll betray more men.

(Act V, scene ii)

What Othello fails to realize is that lies and deception are the root cause of the proverbial fall of man from grace, and lies and deception are embodied in Iago. It is later in the scene, after Desdemona’s death, that Iago’s wife Emily exposes Iago’s lies.

You told a lie, an odious, damnèd lie!
Upon my soul, a lie, a wicked lie!

(Act V, scene ii)

Toward the conclusion of the play, the final connection between Iago and the serpent in Eden is solidified.

LODOVICO

Where is that viper? Bring the villain forth.

OTHELLO

I look down towards his feet; but that’s a fable.—
If that thou be’st a devil, I cannot kill thee.

(Act V, scene ii)

Othello is looking down to see Iago’s feet, since in the biblical story, God punishes the serpent by removing its legs and making it slither on the ground.

And the Lord God said unto the serpent, Because thou hast done this, thou art cursed above all cattle, and above every beast of the field; upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life.

(Genesis 3:14)

While this is still not in my list of top Shakespeare plays, I have gained a new level of appreciation for it. If anyone knows of a good film version, let me know. The performances I have seen have been weak. Possibly watching a solid production would sway my opinion on this play.

“Richard III” by William Shakespeare: Deformity and Evil

To really understand this play, you must have a basic understanding of the concept of the great chain of being.

For Medieval and Renaissance thinkers, humans occupied a unique position on the chain of being, straddling the world of spiritual beings and the world of physical creation. Humans were thought to possess divine powers such as reason, love, and imagination. Like angels, humans were spiritual beings, but unlike angels, human souls were “knotted” to a physical body. As such, they were subject to passions and physical sensations—pain, hunger, thirst, sexual desire—just like other animals lower on the chain of being. They also possessed the powers of reproduction unlike the minerals and rocks lowest on the chain of being. Humans had a particularly difficult position, balancing the divine and the animalistic parts of their nature. For instance, an angel is only capable of intellectual sin such as pride (as evidenced by Lucifer’s fall from heaven in Christian belief). Humans, however, were capable of both intellectual sin and physical sins such as lust and gluttony if they let their animal appetites overrule their divine reason.

(Source: Wikipedia)

To emphasize the importance of this concept, Shakespeare uses the word “knot” extensively throughout the text, symbolizing things from marriage to physical form. And just as Shakespeare and other Renaissance thinkers believed in the correspondence between the worldly and the divine realms, they also believed that the physical and the spiritual aspects of an individual were also knotted together.

Richard is a despicable character who seems to lack any redeeming qualities. He revels in his depravity and it is impossible to feel any sense of empathy for this person who is presented as the English equivalent of a Caligula. But what I find the most interesting is that Shakespeare establishes a clear connection between Richard’s physical deformities and his evil nature. In fact, during Richard’s opening soliloquy, the connection is immediately established.

But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp’d, and want love’s majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail’d of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deformed, unfinish’d, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams,
To set my brother Clarence and the king
In deadly hate the one against the other:
And if King Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false and treacherous,
This day should Clarence closely be mew’d up,
About a prophecy, which says that ‘G’
Of Edward’s heirs the murderer shall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here
Clarence comes.

(Act I: scene i)

We can contrast this with a description of Edward, whose physical beauty reflects the nobler qualities of a human being.

Hath she forgot already that brave prince,
Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since,
Stabb’d in my angry mood at Tewksbury?
A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,
Framed in the prodigality of nature,
Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal,
The spacious world cannot again afford
And will she yet debase her eyes on me,
That cropp’d the golden prime of this sweet prince,
And made her widow to a woeful bed?

(Act I: scene ii)

And again, Shakespeare reiterates that an individual’s face, or physical expression, is a direct reflection of what that person is like inside, and the thoughts and feelings that the person has within.

I think there’s never a man in Christendom
That can less hide his love or hate than he;
For by his face straight shall you know his heart.

(Act III: scene iv)

In our modern society, we want to tell ourselves that we do not judge others by their appearances, when in actuality, we still do. Studies have shown that individuals are considered more trustworthy if they have a nicer appearance. And there is the whole issue of judging blacks and people who look Arabic strictly upon how they look. We are not going to change this part of our collective being overnight, but we need to acknowledge this tendency and work toward changing it.

The Power of Words in “The Book Thief” by Markus Zusak

It’s been a while since I published a blog post. I’ve been quite busy with work and travel (went to Spain, which was “fantastico”). Anyway, amid the craziness and busy-ness, I managed to read The Book Thief. My daughter had loaned it to me, saying that she loved the book and felt I would love it too, which I certainly did. I had seen the film, but as usual, the book was WAY better than the movie.

The first thing that struck me about this book was the narrative voice, which is the voice of Death. Omniscient narrators are nothing new, but Death as a character certainly provides a unique vantage point from which to tell a tale, particularly one set in Nazi Germany during WWII. The narrator exudes a strange sense of detachment and sadness, which if you are the Grim Reaper is probably how you would need to be. You would need to detach yourself enough to reap souls, but it would be cruel to do so without some feeling of sadness at the many lives cut short.

While this story is so rich and offers much to explore, I’d like to focus on the power of words as presented in the text.

As a writer, I am keenly aware of the power that words have. They are symbols that evoke images, sway opinions, enlighten, and mislead. When people say that the pen is mightier than the sword, what is actually meant is that words are the most powerful weapons anyone can wield.

Yes, the Fuhrer decided that he would rule the world with words. “I will never fire a gun,” he devised. “I will not have to.” Still, he was not rash. Let’s allow him at least that much. He was not a stupid man at all. His first plan of attack was to plant the words in as many areas of his homeland as possible.

He planted them day and night.

He watched them grow, until eventually, great forests of words had risen throughout Germany. . . It was a nation of farmed thoughts.

(p. 445)

The protagonist, Liesel (the book thief), loves books. But at the height of her despair, she has an epiphany where she fully grasps the power of words as tools to spread evil.

She tore a page from the book and ripped it in half.

Then a chapter.

Soon, there was nothing but scraps of words littered between her legs and all around her. The words. Why did they have to exist? Without them, there wouldn’t be any of this. Without words, the Fuhrer was nothing. There would be no limping prisoners, no need for consolation or wordly tricks to make us feel better.

What good were the words?

She said it audibly now, to the orange-lit room. “What good are the words?”

(p. 521)

Words, like swords, are double-edged. They can cause immeasurable suffering, but can also heal the deepest wounds. This is why when I see people throwing words around on 24-news stations or on social media, I cannot help but feel concerned. If people would only pause and consider before reacting with words, we would avoid a lot of pain and conflict.

We all need to choose our words more carefully. I, for one, will try to be vigilant regarding how I use these powerful tools, and hopefully I can use them to advance society and humanity.

Thanks for taking the time to read my “words.” Cheers!

The Black Monday Murders: Issue 05

In our current environment, a tale about dark occult influences on the mega-wealthy and powerful individuals that manipulate and control global economics is bound to be interesting. But this graphic series is much more than just an entertaining look at some conspiracy theory; it’s a deep probing into mystical thought and the symbols associated with money and power. The writers of this series took an extended break since issue 4, which was released back in November of 2016, but they are back now with another engaging installment in the arc.

There is an abundance of rich text, artwork, and ideas crafted into this issue. Much of it is connected to the various threads which woven together create this complex story and would be difficult to convey without spending a lot of time and page space explaining the back story. But there is a great section that I want to share that I think adequately conveys the complexity and thoughtfulness of this series. It’s a discussion about the difference between the disciples Judas and Peter.

Doctor: Then you know of Peter — on whose back Christ’s church was built – and Judas – who with a kiss – betrayed him for thirty pieces of silver. It’s fascinating to me how many people misinterpret the point of their story. Haven’t you ever wondered why Judas – who only betrayed Christ once – is the fallen sinner of the story, and Peter is the redeemed? After all, Peter denied the Son of God three times – each denial a separate betrayal. Can you guess, detective… why the greater offender became a saint, while the other hung from a tree?

Detective: I have no idea.

Doctor: Judas, you see… he took the money.

Detective: I don’t see how that –

Doctor: If you’re going to understand how all this works, detective, then you’re going to have to remember one key thing: money is the physical manifestation of power. And when I say power, yes, I mean powers beyond our mortal ken.

This conversation really struck me and caused me to think. There are many reasons why a person might deny the spiritual and the divine, such as fear, doubt, suffering, obsession with physical pleasure. The list goes on. So what makes the rejection of the divine for the sake of wealth so much worse? Christ famously stated: “And again I say unto you, It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.” And remember how angry Christ got about the moneychangers? If I recall, that was the only time that he lost his cool. I think that all this is pointing the fact that money and wealth symbolizes power of an individual over a large group of people. If humans are beings made in the image of God and filled with the spark of the divine, then it must be the epitome of evil to exercise dominion over people who are in essence divine spiritual beings.

“Tao Teh Ching: Chapter 3” by Lao Tzu

By not exalting the talented you will cause the people to cease from rivalry and contention.
By not prizing goods hard to get, you will cause the people to cease from robbing and stealing.
By not displaying what is desirable, you will cause the people’s hearts to remain undisturbed.

Therefore, the Sage’s way of governing begins by

Emptying the heart of desires,
Filling the belly with food,
Weakening the ambitions,
Toughening the bones.

In this way he will cause the people to remain without knowledge and without desire, and prevent the knowing ones from any ado.

Practice Non-Ado, and everything will be in order.

As I read this, I thought about just how different the paradigm or our western consumer society is from the way of governing depicted here. Our society feeds on the stirring of people’s desires. We feed our society with a constant stream of imagery about how their life should be, about the status they should attain, where they should live, what they should eat, the right clothes to wear. On and on it goes, like a carrot dangling in front of a horse, always within sight but never within reach.

It is a sad truth that a society built upon constant craving and wants cannot sustain itself. We will eventually deplete all our resources and collapse upon ourselves.

Will we be able to stop filling our hearts with desire and instead practice contentment with what we have? Will we start to feed the hungry within our society instead of hoarding for ourselves? Will we start educating people to think about the common good instead of personal and individual ambition? And will we finally find a way to strengthen our society from the inside, to toughen the bones that frame our civilization?

These are difficult if not impossible questions to answer. But by at least thinking about them and discussing them, we take the first step toward a more spiritual and sustainable culture.

“Tao Teh Ching: Chapter 2” by Lao Tzu

When all the world recognizes beauty as beauty, this in itself is ugliness.
When all the world recognizes good as good, this in itself is evil.

Indeed, the hidden and the manifest give birth to each other.
Difficult and easy complement each other.
Long and short exhibit each other.
High and low set measure to each other.
Voice and sound harmonize each other.
Back and front follow each other.

Therefore, the Sage manages his affairs without ado,
And spreads his teaching without talking.
He denies nothing to the teeming things.
He rears them, but lays no claim to them.
He does his work, but sets no store by it.
He accomplishes his task, but does not dwell upon it.

And yet it is just because he does not dwell on it
That nobody can ever take it away from him.

(translation: John C. H. Wu)

I see two concepts expressed in this passage. The first half deals with the necessity of opposites in order to maintain a balance in the world. So in the first two lines, the key word is “all.” There is nothing inherently wrong about recognizing beauty or good in the world, the problem occurs when “all the world” sees beauty as beauty and good as good. This creates an imbalance. If all the world only saw and acknowledged the good, that would essentially eradicate all that is not good from the world. But the interesting twist here is that when all recognize the good and seek to not focus on the not-good, it ends up creating an evil, and thereby still maintains the balance. It’s somewhat ironic, similar to the old cliché that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

The second half of the passage shifts to the contemplative state of the Sage. Here the spiritual seeker is instructed to foster a sense of detachment and to use the concept of the opposite to attain that which the seeker desires. Basically, to be a true seeker, you must stop seeking. As long as you actively search for something, you will not be able to find it. It’s like when you misplace your keys. You search the house, try to retrace your steps, but still you cannot find them. When you finally give up and sit down, the location of the keys becomes clear. This is the same as the wisdom that the Sage hopes to attain. That wisdom will only manifest at the stillest moment, when the searcher stops actively pursuing that which cannot be grasped, but can only be bestowed.

Witchblade #185 – Series Finale

It is with mixed emotions that I read the series finale of Witchblade. I have loved this series and it was one that I have followed for a while, through all its creative ups and downs. There is a spinoff, Switch, that is out, but I am disinclined to start following that. The way I feel it that all stories must end if they are to come around again in a new incarnation of the myth.

The issue is comprised of two chapters, each composed by different creative teams. They are different, but it shows how some stories transcend artistic differences. One of the chapters also includes some original artwork from early in the series, done by Michael Turner, which was a nice touch.

Rather than get too sappy, I figured I would just include some quotes from this issue, which I feel are appropriate. Thanks to all the people who worked on this inspiring graphic novel. It has definitely had an impact on me.

But you need to decide if this is over. Things end, Sara. Best-case scenario is when you get to make that choice.

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At times, it’s hard for me to accept what I’ve seen and experienced as real. There’s a world of supernatural wonders and horrors we aren’t meant to see… and most should be grateful for their ignorance.

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Some things are meant to be beyond human understanding. I was raised Catholic. I still believe in God although my experience with angels and demons is that they don’t quite line up with what’s written in the Bible. Concepts of good and evil are more fluid than I wanted to believe.

Millennium: Issue 5

This issue is the last in the arc, and is superb. The writing and artwork are top notch, and the symbolism is everything that one would expect from Millennium.

In this installment, Frank Black and Fox Mulder confront Lucy Butler in Frank’s old house in Seattle. Lucy is the feminine incarnation of Legion, the embodiment of evil. The return to the yellow house symbolizes Frank entering the deeper aspects of his psyche to face his inner demons. Lucy represents both Frank’s personal demons, as well as the amalgamation of evil as it exists on the cosmic level.

Structurally, the story draws on the symbols of divine cycles. There are circles within circles, all representative of the various cycles of spiritual growth and decay, of good and evil, of divine and profane.

The closing lines of this graphic novel sum everything up nicely, and I don’t feel that including the quote here will spoil the ending, because everything is just one eternal cycle.

True good and evil never die, Frank. They just lay low for a bit, lick their wounds, and wait for the cycle to start again… for an entire millennium, if necessary…

Millennium: Issue 3

In this issue, Frank Black returns to Seattle in search of his daughter, Jordan. He fears that the Millennium Group is after her and desperation fuels his frantic quest to find her. In the process, he is captured by Quentin McKittrick, a member of the group. The two have a great exchange regarding the turn of the millennium and the dark forces that exist in the world.

McKittrick: The millennium turned over, Frank. But just because the world didn’t end doesn’t mean nothing changed. There are forces, Frank, dark forces I know you’re aware of, pushing us toward end times and seeking to bargain with those privy to what goes on behind the veil. You still think you saved the world, though, don’t you?

Black: I think the world is fucked beyond saving, if you ask me. I think that parasites like you people will always be there, sucking blood from its rotting carcass until it’s just dust and bones. And I can’t think of any reason why I shouldn’t send you straight to hell if you don’t bring me Jordan Black right now.

There is a great twist at the end, which I will abstain from sharing so as not to spoil it for the readers. I will add, though, that this issue has a little comic relief from what is a dark series. One of the characters is depicted wearing a Pixies tee shirt, and there is a part where McKittrick points out that Frank Black shares the same name as the singer for the Pixies. This was something I had noticed, but I’m glad that the writers chose to make a nod to this correlation.

Thanks for stopping by, and don’t forget to keep reading stuff.