Monthly Archives: November 2014

Sam Vaknin thinks Jesus was a narcissist.

Interesting post.

Lucky Otters Haven

cultdefinition
A true cult’s agenda and operation is definitely psychopathic. (click to enlarge).

Sam Vaknin has a lot to say about religion and cults and how they relate to psychopathy.
On his website, he addresses the problems of religious cults and describes the way they are almost always run by malignant narcissists who use their usual bag of psychopathic tricks to brainwash people into converting and once converted, keeping them in thrall to the cult. The article is here.

Vaknin’s description of cults sounds exactly the way a cult such as Scientology is run (I dabbled in it back in the late 1970s for about 2 years but was fortunate enough to be able to escape before I was completely taken in). I have no doubt Scientology’s founder, L. Ron Hubbard, a hack science fiction writer, was a malignant narcissist (his official bio is full of lies and “accomplishments” that are…

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Night Sky

Softly blanked from
The dark forsaken sky,
I feel nothing.
The snow gently shatters
On my little balled-up heap.
It is soft and
From here it feels warm.
A pity if the moonlight
has missed my presence.

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I feel old enough to know
What the mourning dove brings,
And it’s all no different
From the ghost of yesterday.
Singing near streams
Where the lowland pines grow
In the land to the west,
Walking distance too far
And too cold.

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Who has machine eyes blown across the sand?
Who has infinite surprises retaining?
Who hides knives inside sculpted blue lands?
Jumbled words without answer are all that’s remaining.

The one with a lion’s stomach and heart of a king,
He retains chivalrous covered disguise.
The one who sheds feathers before he takes wing.
The one without answers is the one without lies.

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Tomorrow

Unnamed tomorrows on the
Pendulum swing
Take turns singing rhythms
Praising mystery things
Of worship and love
And heartache above.
Looming shadowed tomorrow of the
Mourning dove.

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October Leaves

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Holding On

What will you hold onto
When the world turns upside down
And there’s nothing there to catch you
But the stars?
Will it be a table
Or the kitchen sink?
The entire house foundation’s
Just a slab of concrete.
What will you do when
What your holding on has
Been holding onto has disappeared?
Completely gone.

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For Mintkey

While all the world is burning
I will take you in my arms,
And you will teach me
Not to be afraid.
You will teach me
How to love a moment
When you’re in here, safe,
And embers take to the air.
I will know
what it means
To love and be so loved
When your eyes so alive
Catch mine.
And I will keep on
Learning these beautiful things
As long as I somehow,
Some way, can hold you.

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Dungeon

The future hangs on my mind
Like weights dangling from cat whiskers.
The knowing I’ve honed
Has all along been my tomb.

The past drags me back
like water resistance.
My memory is not
a jolly slave to serve me.

My mind,
Then, now, when,
is a dungeon
And there are enough chisels on the wall to know
For as long as I’ve been here,
It takes longer to return.

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It’s the night

Of Wooden Words

It’s the night,
It’s teeth shine like the stars at night.
It’ll only be a few minutes before it attacks.
It’s shaking and I’m not sure what I’ll be able to do to stop it.
Do I want to stop it?
The edge of its head glistens like the snow in winter.
Moments.
It’ll be moments now until…

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