Theos-Talk Archives (July 1996 Message tl00434)

WE are all still alive and most of us are dry, or drying out.
There were a number of flooded parking lots and basements in Wheaton, three
of which were at Olcott.  Elizabeth was up at an ungodly hour rescuing stored
books from the hq basement and a couple of people had to be moved out of
their quarters until things could  dry out.  You will be happy to know that
Chuck and Gerda are fine and their house, being somewhat north of the
heaviest rains, was bone dry.
The expedition to the Frank Lloyd Wright stuff apparently went well.  Gerda
and I did not go as we have been through it ourselves before, but those who
did go found it to be very interesting in spite of the sauna and the bus not
showing up, necessitating a makeshift car pool to get the folks there.
Then this evening--well, if you remember Tuesday the gods of music sent us an
angel?
Tonight the devils of music got their revenge and sent us an idiot.  In
addition to the fact that I have heard more talent in a local bar, the
performer, who mercifully will remain nameless, was a former student of Bede
(Don't I look so holy in my silly robe) Griffiths and apparently a follower
of Matthew (Where is the Inquisition when we need it?) Fox.  I could hear HP
B shouting FLAPDOODLE! from the other side as he regaled us with the most
self-righteous garbage ever to be heard in the hallowed halls of Olcott, and
that takes some doing as they once let Bede Griffith into the place.  So for
those of you who have forgotten, let me remind you.
The Masters do not approve of religion.  They consider it the source of the
bulk of the world's ills.
Good Theosophists, or even bad ones like myself, do not, according to the Key
to Theosophy, waste their time in prayer to non-existent personal deities.
And if somebody needs our help we do not write a song about how they might
feel.  We get off our asses and help them.

Chuck the Heretic