As you may have deduced, yesterday was rather unpleasant, albeit apparently necessary--since the smartest people are often the ones that make the stupidest mistakes. Frustrated and fed-up with the situation at hand, I decided last night to distract myself by picking a random episode of Bones on Hulu. I chose a first-season episode that I'd never seen before, sat down to watch it, and was able to spend the next hour being outraged on Dr. Brennan's (and the murder victim's) behalf. The parallels didn't strike me completely until this morning. The victim had been lured in by a couple of s/m cultists who promised her things she wanted and needed (drugs, escape from her parents) but in actuality kept her bound and servile until at last it killed her. Dr. Brennan, on the other hand, had her work and her trust betrayed by a colleague who was also a friend and a lover; he went on to publicly excoriate her on the witness stand and declare that it wasn't anything personal. (I wish she'd punched his face in, which would have been deeply vicariously satisfying, but at least she told him to go to hell.) Brennan was vindicated in the end, and the murderers brought to justice; but even so, she'd still been betrayed, and the victim was still dead.
I'm not going to go into details about what happened yesterday; we got complacent, an old feud rose from the dead, and the rest of the day was spent fending off metaphorical zombies. The pain and frustration it caused were very real, and yet the entire situation is laughable; if you stripped away the names of the organization and the particular identifying details, then laid out the behaviors and actions, these people would be indistinguishable from any other dangerous and damaging cult out there (with the possible exception of a monetary angle; they do have an aversion to that, of a sort). The hardest thing for me to deal with is the fact that I ever for even a moment believed it to be anything else.
It struck me on the way to work today that there were parallels between what had just gone down, and the events in the Bones episode I'd chosen at random. It struck me so hard that it choked me up; I was literally almost in tears, when I realized that out of eleven shows displayed on the screen, each with a one-line descriptor, I'd chosen the one that would have the most relevance to my current situation, and that would resonate most deeply with me and reinforce the conclusions I'd reached. Jeez, it's almost enough to make me...I dunno, believe in stuff or something.
As Mulder once famously asked Scully, If coincidences are merely coincidental, then why do they feel so contrived? Why indeed.
This morning, the next section of my FOI coursework was waiting in the mailbox, just in time for me to begin it at the auspicious time of the New Moon. My inner Sekhmet raged yesterday, and within my mind the streets ran red with blood; but today, she is sated on pomegranates and truth. Temperance, remember? Another word for that is Ma'at. Funny how I didn't make that connection until just this moment.