A little while ago, I learned of the depredations in northern Iraq, where some of the greatest treasures from antiquity are being destroyed. When I learned of these terrible things, I chose not to read another word, nor view another image, because I will not allow my spirit to be vexed by the actions of others.
As far as my contemplation of these matters goes, it amazes me that anyone should believe, simply because the representations in stone are being shattered, that the idea, essence or deities represented by these ‘idols’ should perish at the same time. If anything, the unearthly powers behind these representations are being vividly brought back to life by all those who mourn the loss of these gifts to Mankind, while the deities themselves are surely renewing themselves by ensuring they’re reborn, something I’ve read about on many occasions over the years in my studies of these things, while it’s inconceivable to me that I should be the only person alive to think in this way.
I know this as surely as I know the rivers run into the sea. I know this as surely as I know that the blood courses in my veins. I know this as surely as I know that the sun rises in the east and sinks in the west. I know this as surely as I know that night follows day, and will do throughout Eternity on countless worlds in the most far-flung reaches of our teeming, unimaginably vast and starry cosmos.
Ishtar is the Queen of the Night.