The Camel Saloon Gallery

AE Reiff: ISIS at the Gates

Denver acceptance, Pergamon altar in the background, Ishtar Gate at podium foreground

ISIS Ishtar and the U. S. God Drone - Confusion of Myth
What's the difference between a caliphate, a supreme religious political empire on earth, and Rome, or Babylon or England, except what side you're on?  When the caliphate of ISIS took the appearance of Ishtar at the Obama acceptance speech in Denver 2008 wasn't that its invitation to immigrate to America, an invitation given without consulting all the parties. Provocateurs! Who was advising Obama that day? Does ISIS know that ISIS is equivocated? If they think that Isis is Ishtar it came about that when our President stood at a mock Altar of Pergamos, altar of Zeus and its frieze of Gigantomachy in Berlin, mixing his gods at the bar of caliphaty, appropriating the Ishtar Gate for the foreground of his Denver acceptance speech, Ishtar's promise covered the podium of his address: "touch me here, touch me there and I will give you riches beyond telling." Myths are easy confused. Now ISIS not only wants to visit, it wants to rule!  When the American nominee had visited the Pergamos museum on the new Babylonian border, that is, during his trip to and momentous speech in Berlin just before, he saw Pergamos and the Ishtar Gate together and joined them in a combined act of genius in DenverBaghdadBabylonRome.

The ISIS Gate
Just to bring us up to date on Isis, she is an Egyptian, but Ishtar, the goddess of sex and war is Akkadian, née Babylonian, the public relations arm of the Babylon gods whose altars and gates were stolen and taken to Germany in the 19th century, masked as archeological sites. Who doubts that if the Germans could also have taken Isis  they would have? So the modern ISIS interest in Germany is also an allure, but confused, since while she is the original queen mother, Ishtar is but a mere strumpet. Ishtar's signs were the lapis and the lion, blue and gold. In the ancient poem Gilgamesh she was the foul goddess, "the door through which the cold gets in." She would turn you to a frog. This explains American foreign policy.

Way back in old Jerusalem they baked cakes with Ishtar's face (Jeremiah 44), which captives saw after the fall of Jerusalem as they marched into the inner city of Babylon through the Ishtar gate. What is inner Babylon?  Indeed you ask. Who is Ishtar that she should be invited to a surrogate reign in America? The president's men could not have read what Gilgamesh said when Ishtar invited him into her arms. "Give me your semen; plant your seed in the body of Ishtar. Abundance will follow riches beyond the telling"  (Gilgamesh. David Ferry, 29).

Altar of Pergamos in Berlin

Babylon to Berlin to Denver were her stops, but not in words;  images revealed the Novus Ordo Seclorum of the American seal, soul of the sweet Golden Age of Hesiod and Homer gone to brass. The three harvests of this golden age were Apollo, Apollyon, and Abaddon. From Nimrod to America came the harvest of ISIS, ISIL, the caliphate of the Levant! The myth says the golden ego of Osiris was already there.

The Obama team may not have known this, or maybe they believed the promise of abundance. But Ishtar didn't want either Gilgamesh or Barak personally; she only wanted the office of the president. In the language of the poem, a lion in the pit, the horse hobbled in mud, the goatherd turned to a wolf, the bird that fell, the man himself would be discarded. How many likenesses we need not know, but when Ishtar said to the tempted gardener

"Now, touch me where you dare not, touch me
here, touch me where you want to, touch me here."
                                                    (Gilgamesh, Ferry, 31)

he knew not to "eat the rotten food / having been taught to eat the wholesome."  I hope nobody thinks from this that Ishtar is a whore. It's not nice to call names. Once rejected she turned the gardener into a frog. You thought I was going to say king. It was only because she was hungry. The choice symbolically for Gilgamesh was, have your spirit broken and your mind imprisoned, or, as happens when he too rejects her, be confronted with the bull of heaven loosed by her rage.  Ishtar's complaint against Gilgamesh, King of Uruk (Baghdad) was that "he has found out my foulness" (32).

You are the fire that goes out. You are the pitch
that sticks to the hands of the one who carries the bucket.
You are the house that falls down. You are the shoe
that pinches the foot of the wearer. The ill-made wall
that buckles when time has gone by. The leaky
waterskin soaking the waterskin carrier.

Gilgamesh's rejection of harlotry is opposed by his free rein in taking every other form of woman, which in the allegory means country, PanamaVietnam... from brides before their marriage, to all wives and daughters, but Gilgamesh recognizes that supernatural coitus steals manhood.  Why do we always talk in code?  Bull? These forces anyway shared the Denver stage through the gate German archeologists took to Berlin. The president  spoke from the middle of the image  in his acceptance. "Abundance will follow, riches without telling," all of course, with the procession of lapis and aurochs and cedar before the walls of lions.

It was a one stop shop. Gilgamesh, 2500 B.C, Babylon 600 B.C, Berlin, 1930, Denver, 2008. At least the President was not a spoil sport like Daniel who did to Nebuchadnezzar's gods what Abraham did to Nimrod's, where the lions on the Gate, symbols of Ishtar, had their mouths shut.

The United States is not even symbolically mentioned in the Bible. Rome is there. Babylon is there.  Russia is there.

"This [American Christian nation] myth has inclined us to Christianize many pagan aspects of our culture" says Boyd (13). A Novus Ordo Seclorum - New Order for the Ages - with pagan gods sprawled all over the Capitol Dome and currency- is an awkward contradiction for a Christian nation. Boyd had the good sense not to name the pagans of constructive chaos behind the myth of the dome. The World  Below the Dome is symbolic of all these mythic structures we cannot see. So we may take our dome as a godsend of revelation even if it is really holding us in a hiding in the holes and rocks of caves.

Shame that E Pluribus Unum is pagan? The motto on the dollar bill doesn't say, "Gather Together In One All Things In The Messiah, both in heaven and on earth in Him." The coins of ancient Israel were inscribed "Jerusalem the Holy," but Americans grope to a seclorum end, not of the Son of Psalm 2, Kiss the Son whose kingdom is set upon the holy hillThe seclorum sounds more like Hosea 13.2,  the work of craftsmen where the sacrificers of men kiss the calves. Calf kissing and human sacrifice  is being pursued downtown at the Uruk hotel of the Kidney, or the Capitol of The Severed Head  and Ishtar, we shall say.

Why disrespect the American gods when no body believes in them? Do you follow Zeus? Myth is such an acquired taste. What's wrong with George Washington ascending to heaven on the Capitol Dome inhabited by the gods Athena, Poseidon, Hermes, Vulcan, Demeter? Well, only that Judeo-Christian scripture makes the breaking of these gods its prime tenet. Not just the Greek gods either, but Ishtar's face broken on those cookies and idols of stone whose earlier versions of Greek pantheon were all broken by Abraham That's why Nimrod threw him in the furnace, disrespect of the gods. What's the connection between the Greek/Roman gods and Ishtar's Babylon in America? We find out in a new age of myth. 

Abraham's Hammer 
Down here in D. C. the dome represents mythic control. If pieces of the Capitol are one day sold as the Berlin Wall was (for the movies are taking out the White House and Capitol most summers), come and buy, come and buy -- vendors will have the same world they've always had, that is, whoever is unjust, let him be unjust still  (Johnny Cash). Pieces of new world rising, shunned along with what raises itself to heaven with George in the funnel of the Capitol Dome, sucking up to the miscegenate gods, will swirl. They swirl, they swirl and then comes the sound. I'm saying that there has been a takeover and all the pieces of this new world shunned by Abraham are the New Washington Order that Welcomes Lincoln to Heaven, but it is not the one we know, or John Adams and Benjamin Rush, who protested against Washington's deification. What could we have against our Fathers, or against what they did or didn’t do?  Back masked,  E Pluribus Unum becomes  the cord its adversaries use to strangle them.

AE Reiff  is an innkeeper @ Content With This Name Is Not Allowed.

David J. Thompson: Two Images

Seville Bar

Suit of Lights 

Michael Cooper: That Tight

                   above me shiver lilies I reach I reach]   I know what every person on the street
                                                                         corner knows—that to sell
           what is this last whispered place between us
                          deep in her plaited tresses locked
                                          the aerials hum blue   in oranges, alms or as the Other
                                       on their wood pograms
                                      coppered mimes thrown
                                                memories across
                       headlights who educate the unwary   exacts the pound of flesh
          spent uncollected shopping carts loiter under    cupped carrion in the hands
                                the misplaced pine bending     cadaverous but we must alive lip wind sprint
                               the sidewalk cleats with its
                                                       roots rose     lithe-blooded we see
              until it speaks in clover between the sap
                    scoured sheets the follicles that leap
                                between us lurid lear taste
                                                         yes like
                             cold mac and cheese—again    I want to tear
                                                                       you out
                                                                       of that white
                                                                       collar splendor Hy Rise—drag you
                                                                       to the curb naked—pumped
                                                                       up on bath salts to be beaten
                                                                       by four Peace Officer’s
                                                                       and a malfunctioning taser—said not one dish
                                                                       washer ever—in fact
                              easy clingy and cold we feel     he’s more interested in keeping
                                                                       the skin
                                            the empty spaces
                         with our ribbed fingers fill up
                                                 paper lungs      on his hands   and   his   wedding   band   
from leaping into the sink, though she left him  some time ago.  But I will, Puritan.   
I want to see you face down in her crotch the moment the John leaves.  85% of you don’t know what I’m talking about— 
                                       have you ever sat on    noses in a job unhindered by foodless
                                                                      Detriot?  I want your family to shatter—sit you
                                                                      alone on a park bench at winter time singing     
                                                                      those carols
                                                                      you love
                                                                      so much
                                                                      hug those tears Presentless
                     a fire hydrant?  What does blood
       taste like licked from corrugated aluminum? 
                                                 At first dew  nothing for your children or visit friends
                                                                    with pity rimmed eyes but I
                          in the chimney—what was it
                              seeking? Rainbird controls   would give you a present: a memory
                  sequestered in their cement bunkers
      as empty as congress, with the traffic control   of the first lesbian kiss I ever witnessed, wet and
          so easily breached by drunken bumpers? 
                                               Paycheckless    groping at Starbucks. I would give anything to be
                                                                    that tongue, or to be held like
                                                                    that, just once.  That tightly.
 [your dark face lowers in the ice cube filled tub

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