civilized objects

A THOUGHT BY ME: I don’t want to be a lie. I am neither man, nor woman nor neutrum.
These are such HUUUUUGE identity frameworks.
Gender only concerns me insofar that I am against any type of sterotyping,
especially the kind of sterotyping where people pidgeohole themselves willingly.

A blessing for all Iranians and Persians demonstrating against Iranian government.

By Magi Nabarz ( http://www.myspace.com/nabarz )

I call on Verethragna, as the Boar, may he rage through the ranks of the Basiji the Iranian Islamic police, may their riots shield shatter, may their helmets and viziers mist up, may their body armour fall, may their batons slip out or their hands. May they break rank and disperse.

I call on the goddess Anahita, lady of the waters, may she give courage to the demonstrators, may she help them to continue the struggle, may she provide love and nourishment to those already arrested and heading into the pits of the Islamic regime’s prison. May she bring light into prison cells.

I call on Mithra, may the lord of truth walk beside all who are fighting the Great Lie that is the Islamic regime, may he support all the bloggers who are telling the truth and let their messages reach out to wide world.

I call on the Sun at his height, may his light and warmth feed the fire and passion of the demonstrators.

I call on Atar, lord of fire, once again burn the three headed beast that stole the Divine Glory (right of rulership), may the right of rulership be returned to the people, and their voices and votes counted.

I call on Vayu, lord of wind, to blow away deceit, to interfere with police helicopters and stop them flying, to shorten the breath of the Islamic police and stop them chasing protestors. May the Basijis be out of breath, and tired.

I call on Tishtrya, the star Sirius, lord of rain, summer Solstice marks your time, Tir take thy form of Young Man/Woman, and march beside the Youth of the Persian nation, as they march towards black clothed police. Show them how you overcame the darkness before.

I call on Homa may she heal the wounded, may she remove the demonstrators bullets wounds, and baton bruises. May she fuse the demonstrators with ecstasy and joy and remove fear from their minds.

I fly to of mount Davamand and I call the gods of my Ancestors: Verethragna, Anahita, Mithra, Atar, Vayu, Tishtrya, Homa liberate your land of Persia. Return to thy rightful place and land, thy children in their time of darkness I beg of thee.

Come in their hour of need, and hold the line against the coming hordes, thy temples shall be rebuilt and past glory restored. You have not been forgotten.

All this I call at Summer Solstice, the height of sun’s power.

Summer Solstice is called Tirgan in Iran, or Persia.

Any political correctness melts with images of the Islamic religious police, the Basijis beating and killing protestors.

My creed of love and peace, takes a tea break.

I see my arms transform into hawk’s wings, my head into a falcon, each breath takes me deeper, as avenging Horus emerges. Shaking with love and anger for an oppressed nation. It’s Father’s day tomorrow, so I take the mantel of Horus, son risen to avenge all the father’s killed and imprisoned by Iranian government in last 30 years, Osiris slain and risen god. Horus with his right eye the sun and left eye the moon.

I flap my wings in face of Basijis and blind them, so their aim misses their target and the protestors; my croak a distraction to the black shirts.

I call on Verethragna, as the Boar may rage through the ranks of Islamic police, may their riots shield shatter, may their helmets and vizers mist up, may their body armour fall, may their batons slip out or their hands.

As Mithra Yasht says:
“We sacrifice unto Mithra, the lord of wide pastures, …. sleepless, and ever awake;
‘Before whom Verethraghna, made by Ahura, runs opposing the foes in the shape of a boar, a sharp-toothed he-boar, a sharp-jawed boar, that kills at one stroke, pursuing, wrathful, with a dripping face; strong, with iron feet, iron forepaws, iron weapons, an iron tail, and iron jaws;
‘Who, eagerly clinging to the fleeing foe, along with Manly Courage, smites the foe in battle, and does not think he has smitten him, nor does he consider it a blow till he has smitten away the marrow and the column of life, the marrow and the spring of existence.
‘He cuts all the limbs to pieces, and mingles, together with the earth, the bones, hair, brains, and blood of the men who have lied unto Mithra.
‘For his brightness and glory, we offer him a sacrifice worth being heard”.

So again I call on the goddess Anahita, lady of the waters, may she give courage to the demonstrators, may she help them to continue the struggle, may she provide love and nourishment to those already arrested and heading into the pits of the Islamic regime’s prison. May she bring light into prison cells.

I call on Mithra, may the lord of truth walk beside all who are fighting the Great Lie that is the Islamic regime, may he support all the bloggers who are telling the truth and let their messages reach out to wide world.

I call on the Sun at his height, may his light and warmth feed the fire and passion of the demonstrators.

I call on Atar, lord of fire, once again burn the three headed beast that stole the Divine Glory (right of rulership), may the right of rulership be returned to the people, and their voices and votes counted.

I call on Vayu, lord of wind, to blow away deceit, to interfere with police helicopters and stop them flying, to shorten the breath of the Islamic police and stop them chasing protestors. May the Basijis be out of breath, and tired.

I call on Tishtrya, the star Sirius, lord of rain, summer Solstice marks your time, Tir take thy form of Young Man/Woman, and march beside the Youth of the Persian nation, as they march towards black clothed police. Show them how you overcame the darkness before.

I call on Homa may she heal the wounded, may she remove the demonstrators bullets wounds, and baton bruises. May she fuse the demonstrators with ecstasy and joy and remove fear from their minds.

Brightest of Blessings!

Magi Nabarz

This is a linoleum print by Farangis Yegane:

Links regarding the subject: IMPACTS ONE CAN MAKE THROUGH ARTS,

i.e. isn’t that visual communication!

Holocaust Art Impacts Visitors (article at http://media.www.universitychronicle.com) follow link here

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“Certainly, it’s a stretch to point to one single work of art as having changed the world. Nor can one point to any one single event or person as having accomplished that. The root of all change is a (grass-roots) movement: monotheism, democracy, industrialization, environmentalism; the list throughout history is immense. All of these have art as an integral part, directly or not, because art is a part of all human endeavors.” – Susan Lucier http://artmutt.blogspot.com

follow this link here for the complete essay

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“Art is not a mirror to reflect reality, but a hammer with which to shape it.”
“Kunst ist nicht ein Spiegel, den man der Wirklichkeit vorhaelt, sondern ein Hammer, mit dem man sie gestaltet.” – Bertolt Brecht

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The Whole Ball of Wax

Can Art Change the World?

A Holistic Theory by Jerry Saltz

“In concert with other things, however, art can change the world incrementally and by osmosis. This is because art is part of a universal force. It has no less purpose or meaning than science, religion, philosophy, politics, or any other discipline, and is as much a form of intelligence or knowing as a first kiss, a last goodbye, or an algebraic equation. Art is an energy source that helps make change possible; it sees things in clusters and constellations rather than rigid systems.”

follow this link for the complete article on the http://www.villagevoice.com/ site: here

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My two cents are:

If an artist admits that “art can change the world” she is aware of her responsibility. She is okay with being held responsible for the message she puts across.

A recommendation: visit http://www.pinkwater.com/ - Daniel and Jill Pinkwater’s site – and check out the online serialization of Daniel Pinkwater’s YGGYSEY. It’s phantastic!

The first chapter can be read and listened to now. I am mostly fond of “Chase is not the ghost of a person. She is the ghost of a black bunny-rabbit. She has been sort of my own personal ghost since I was a baby.” … and an “unused and hidden, swimming pool where the enormous turtle lives.”

… a meadow … with nesting life
spared by a mower’s blade set high
the flowering weeds and grasses strewn
over the field to be raked and dried
by rays from a fire set high in the heaven.
From: High Mowing by Marion Canby, 1932

I came across this poem in an opening quote, namely in “Leadership” by James MacGregor Burns. This stanza is amazingly beautiful. Googling I found that Willa Cather must have been in contact with Marion Canby….