Sharp presents for mortis, identity issues and blood or I need Jewwwww blud said the Bridgett

[jaspamaster]

If anyone knows me they know my domain address www.neonleatherjesus.net, which I know, disturbs some people in what I hope is the right way.
The concept is not to offend though it will certainly, but to pose a question that was answered for some in the dessert at burrningman in 2000.

Christ in his iconography is unique as a figure in that he shares connectivity between religions and history of 2 faiths and many denominations of one of those faiths.
To the Jews he's just this guy, he's Jewish and that's it (unless you happen to be a "Jew for Jesus" and that's just not in the scope of this piece).
On the other side of the coin he's the Son of God and even then there is a fragmented understanding of who and what he is or represents within the sects and arms of Catholicism.
The iconography of the character Neonleatherjesus is to make you ask the question of what would you do if such a powerful icon walked up to you halo glowing in the already surreal setting of the black rock playa.
Don't answer the question don't even try until you do I had one young man fall and do his catechisms for me another person had me baptize there tent (Piss clear is the motto of burning man) a small set of moments with many more in between, they answered there question.

But I digress and back to the cheap Chinese, a restaurant that loves the BR event every year they have had it, they stay open extra late for us. The food isn't to bad for cheap Chinese the hot and sour soup is spicy in a manner that's shocking.
Eating with bbjim I have known for a few years and Bridget of dessert dust and rope.
The words of fate spoken with a goofy grin and intensity lead to something of an unconscious monster.

My badge number for the event had come up with the most amazing link of 666-1
And I am being asked in the midst of burning spicy hot and sour to make a donation to anoint a blade to create a disturbing icon of infamy, "Jewish blood on a Hitler youth dagger".

I say yes, no problem no hitch in the back of my mind, what will "mother" say, what will my "Tanta" say what will the "rabbi" say. Does it connect to anything that I should be outraged its so un-PC, is it hot, is it sexual do you have a Hardon hmmmmmmm.
I laugh my tush off its delightful and fitting with all my connectivity on full schwing

Plans to be made the okay doky given for the act, at a BDSM convention how do you let loose blood (Thats a joke son! A Joke!).
It's a comedy it lasts a day or so to find our blood letter Sarah will do it she is eager its explained she's happy to do it and wants to know what symbolism and ceremony, pomp and circumstance to maintain the ritual of the knife and space.

I am not numb sitting in the hotel room with much to say my mouth closed the conventions of SM mythology and mysticism being asked of me and know that My explanations will make no sense to long and to complex I try to not laugh.
I am calm and relaxed at peace.
How do you explain the soul or simply say its just a hole. let it leak out no need for ceremony, stick the needle in do what's needed we catch the blood on the blade it's a game chasing the rivulets surreal bright almost seeming to real and faked. The blade with its little enameled icon a replica blade seeming toy like cartoonish over chromed like a plastic toy for children.
Sarah has a sure hand the needles go thru the flesh smoothly the lower one to close to the nerve in the mid arm the rope nerve, the nerve that a shinju can pinch and numb the hands.
Its sparkly it's the only thing that hurts if anything.
When I take them out do you mind if I cause more damage by pulling 90 degrees she ask in a bright voice.

Sure go ahead she does releasing the blood we chase with the knife, am I a Jew is this wrong am I shitting on the memories of people and relations lost in the holocaust, I am in my head dealing with myself and identity I am still me one can only sin against oneself that's what god if any exists will judge you against I can offend no one but him, it, her insert a concept here.

Bridget goes between her happy grin and serious face it's a game of fluids do we have enough the blade frosted red, candy apple drips congealing.
Its time to let it set, the arm is cleaned slightly my choice of bandage or Tegraderm, we go with the Tegraderm it's a clear plastic window 4 spots of blood fluid under its wrinkles, were done.

Its time to give time His present sheathed hidden like kids with an insect in a bottle mommy shouldn't see we go to his class to give him the toy he's oblivious in his fun way, still buzzed from the class teaching rope, "huh what's that" Bridgett all puppy dog excited, open it up pull it out "what's that on it" puzzled eyebrows over those blue shades a comic character from the British version of judge Dredd. "Its Jeeeew blood" says the cooing voice big grin splits mortis face oh shit it comes home its iconography suddenly realized in the private exchange in that public room with all the rope.

I find over the hours how many people know about the exchange as random people I know slink up to me with deep breathes and glowing eyes to grab the arm and say how hot it is and oh my coooool.
Those more in the know try to poke the needle holes, I smile they don't know it exists but not for me in that way.

Saturday night in the dungeon mortis never took the knife off over the weekend sitting in his belt a hidden message identity on a blade, beating and sweating I feel an itch its been a day the blood under the bandage is dry and clotted feels like little things crawling as the bandage crinkles on the skin. Looking I find that I have transmogrified one more puzzle piece I have performed a sweaty miracles the tegraderm patch clear and glassine like holding the few drops still outside my body but still on me, it moves, it lives it flows.
I have a stuck on reliquary my ossified blood come back to life, moving as I move my arm, 666, neonleatherjesus, Nazi blade entwined in a moment of wonder and identity.

Recently there was a book about the Jews in Hitler's army about the Halflings of Hitler's definition of who and what is a Jew thinking about how identity on any level is transitory and personal linked to ones self and internal constructs
A couple of links on the subject for any interested saves miles of words, http://www.wnyc.com/books/3504 for some definitions more on the book here http://www.factsofisrael.com/load.php?p=http://www.factsofisrael.com/blog/archives/000346.html.
I am not a Halfling and I do not fit anywhere inside of the people who were affected by this part but the stories talk of identity and mistaken identity from an outside authority informing ones internal identity.

Identity in life is fluid even when we expect it to be most solid we change life changes we flow, stability comes from understanding we flow, the core is always us no matter where we go

In the end its just a knife and some blood, add what you will stir in your angst and make of it what you will.

I am updating this entry with a link to Bridgetts Outburst and veiw on this all with prositiution thrown in. It also has many more comments from people than mine, opinions are always welcome.
http://www.livejournal.com/users/mortalcity/206007.html

Comments

[jaspamaster.livejournal.com]

A point is a wave, a wave is a point.
Perspective!

Inner demons are just that inner demons, the manifestations really don’t matter, they are self indulgent they contain self hate they make us ride fences because they amplify our fear of loss and change, they make us go to far and spill our apple carts.

They make us overprotect and not allow those we love or are in our care hurt like they should to learn.
We don’t know to let go.

If one finds a way to do it then you do it, trying to find a way never works, its like birth, you can’t find someone to do it for you.
The doctor may be there to cut you out or to pull you with the forceps, mom is there to push down and squeeze but at some point you have to bloody dripping and naked squeeze yourself thru even if it’s just to start things.

Inner demons are like that to, you have them, know them, love them, understand them, make them yours.
And they stop torturing you, its all about the looking glass.

I remember some of the conversations we have had about age and TNG and some other things, doesn’t matter if you don’t want to let go then they will always be there.
If you understand them way to well so that they own you, then there is nothing to overcome.
It’s enough to know that you are yourself and not the things you fear you are.
Because you are the things you fear most.
We all are.
Now move on.

[boxofchaos.livejournal.com]

"Now move on"

.. I love it. Thank you for that most simple profound summary of my feelings on the matter.

I've thoroughly enjoyed this thread in multiple journals now, thank you for sharing your thoughts.

[jaspamaster.livejournal.com]

And thank you for yours ;-)