The end of the ferryman

The ferryman known as Charon in the Virgillian tale of Aeneas was said to transport the souls of the dead across the river styx where the soul would continue its journey to either Elysium or Tartarus. Now I am a christian and do not prescribe to such beliefs. I do however believe in an heaven-and-hell-world-in-opposites kind of reality, where some of us are saved and are heaven bound and some are not.

Indeed according to conventional modern Christian belief over two thirds of our planet's population have never heard the message of Jesus; that means at least two thirds are going to Tartarus. I think that this prospect should scare everyone, christian or not.

Life of Pi taught us all about a more middle ground reality, as if our spirit is a fluid that can shape itself in the vessel that carries it, flowing from one faith to another (if only we let it). This model of the soul stems from the epicurean thought that our souls inhabited the body and were that part of the body which was neither wind, air or water: a fourth part, altogether nameless. However, this model seems to split the soul. I don't like this. It's very post modern/Harry Potter-esque.

Thus what do we do with a soul. We can't percieve it. Can it percieve us? If it can, then it would change, making it mutable and thus mortal.

I was lucky enough to look into my soul the other day. And I happened upon some writings not dissimilar to a Les Murray poem... here follows my writings of the day, long winded as they stand.

A learned man still learning
is admitting ones defeat.
But those who live most,
Live in glorious retreat.

Warm like a blanket that
Sparkles with memories.
Warm like the tounge
off'ring its niceties.

The law itself is not quite right
When we as men oppose it.
But law is what still gives us sight,
It's men that overthrow it.

Still be still for I still remain!
I shake you to be still!
For while I'm here, you my dear
Must ne'er fade away.

That's all for now. Look after your soul and water it with smiles and other soft decietful wiles. Steal into the garden bright. Steal into the home you build. Steal.