“Deities and Demigods”
The House of El
In the serene atmosphere of the akashic library, the soft glow of candlelight illuminated the faces of Peter and Calliope as they continued their conversation. Calliope, ever the diligent scribe, prepared her quill to capture the essence of Peter’s journey.
“There was something in the comics. Something sacred. It was if they were extensions of something else, the surface expression of a string of information leading down and beneath them, in the infinite space between the panels.”
Peter began, his voice carrying a mix of nostalgia and reverence. “True believers” is how Stan Lee always referred to the Marvel Comics faithful. But most important was his own belief in his co-creations during decades with Marvel — a genuine, heart-filled faith that would inspire the minds who are producing live-action stories featuring Lee’s heroes on various screens.”
Calliope looked up, intrigued. “This belief, how did it influence you?”
“This, of course, led to my interest in parapsychology, into the powers and abilities that lay within human potential, as well as my appreciation for comic books,” Peter explained. “In a world of assaultive vibrations that felt intrinsically wrong to me and the synesthetic kinetic wash of my senses, the comics were a sanctuary. I identified with the characters, with the plight and the promise of those gifted and cursed with powers and abilities outside the norm. Where, like the X-Men, I had to learn to control my ‘mutant’ gifts simply to survive.”
“Ah, but that’s the thing.” said Peter. “They’re all the same. The Gods and the Heroes are just octaves of one another. Part of the elements of life herself.”
Calliope’s quill moved swiftly, capturing his words. “You mentioned earlier how movies like Superman were influential. How does this tie into the right use of power?”
Peter nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Like Kal-El, which is Hebrew for ‘Voice of God,’ I felt like a being from another world, one possessed of powers and abilities due to the difference in the gravity that defined such places.”
Calliope paused, quill hovering. “What does Kal-El mean exactly?”
“Kal-El has two parts, and each can be translated into Hebrew. Kal, or קל, means ‘easy’ or ‘light’ – but with the creators’ accents at the time, Kal would be read as Kol, or קול, meaning ‘voice.’ El in Hebrew, אל, means ‘God,’ thus Superman’s name in Hebrew is קול-אל, which loosely translates to ‘the voice of God,’” Peter explained. “This doesn’t necessarily mean that Superman is God incarnate or even directly sent by God, but rather he is an instrument of God – a person with incredible powers who saves lives and fights for the weak and downtrodden. Even Action Comics #1 introduced the hero as ‘Superman: Champion of the Oppressed!’”
Calliope’s eyes sparkled with understanding. “So, Superman was a symbol of hope and right use of power for you?”
Peter smiled warmly. “Exactly. With great power comes great responsibility. I took this to mean that when we have power, when we have the ability to influence the world, we are responsible for the use of that power. Power used irresponsibly is a thing of villainy, one lacking the ethics that define a brighter world.”
Calliope’s quill continued to dance across the parchment. “There was truth in this. One that sang to me of the virtues of magic through the threads of light that I could perceive in-between the panels of the comics. One that spoke to the right use of power, to one’s might and magic used in service to something greater than the self, to what it meant to be a hero.”
Peter’s voice grew softer, more introspective. “As it happened, these archetypes would reveal themselves over and over along the thread of my timeline, gradually showing the place and purpose of my incarnation across the pages of story. Yet, I could not understand the ways people acted, nor make sense of the constant feeling of being screamed at by the world. I could not control the shifting tides that stormed within me and felt no resonance with the ideas of religion or spirituality as they existed in the world.”
Calliope paused, her quill resting for a moment. “Despite this, you found hope?”
“Yes,” Peter replied, his voice firm. “There was hope. A reminder of what could be, of what was stronger than the distortions of the world. That held a beacon for who we could be in our highest selves. It was the House of El that spawned such ideas, of the Divine aspects polished to light within the mortal frame, the right wielding of power embodied in the myths of the modern world.”
Calliope looked at Peter with admiration. “And how did these stories help you cope with your powers?”
Peter’s eyes reflected the struggles of his past. “Yet I could not control my powers. I could not control who I was from moment to moment. It was as if my very sense of self were inconstant, plunging me across a carousel of shifting faces and half-remembered access. It was as if the lightning of the Divine and the powers short-circuited within me, sending me across the planes of awareness in flickering lightning.”
Calliope’s quill moved again, capturing his words. “Here again, it was through new hieroglyphs that I saw reflection, the aka of lightning present through the stories of such beings as Shazam, the Flash, Lightning Lad, and others.”
“So you saw the lightning in the comics as a metaphor for the Divine lightning?
“Yes. Over time I would come to see the lightning as the bridge between the Heaven and the Earth, connecting each and every one of us with our higher self. Yet the nature of my challenge would block that thing from me for years, causing me to flicker in and out of the aspects of my own self without restraint.”
Peter’s voice grew more reflective. “Unlike many, I never doubted God’s existence. Rather, I questioned God’s justice and mercy. My life was defined by moments of access, windows of time when I had access to my powers and those when I didn’t, when I could see and engage with the subtle threadworks of the Creation and when I was lost, wandering through the shadowfugue of a fractured mind.”
Calliope’s quill paused, her eyes meeting Peter’s. “How did you come to terms with this duality?”
“Much later on the quest, I would see this in a different light, as the House of El, of the ELohim, the majesty and Divine aspect that lay within us all codified into the languages of the mortal plane,” Peter explained. “It was obvious. Hermes/Mercury was the Flash as well as the lightning bolt which gave Billy Batson his powers. He was the messenger between the realm of Gods and Mortals, the bringer of the lightning of life itself.”
Calliope’s eyes sparkled with understanding and respect. “Thank you for sharing this, Peter. Your journey through these stories and their influence on your path is truly enlightening.”
Peter smiled warmly. “Thank you, Calliope. It’s through understanding these influences that we can see the threads of our own stories and how they weave into the greater tapestry of life.”
Calliope nodded, her eyes filled with understanding and admiration. “Indeed, every story is a thread, and together they create the beautiful fabric of our existence.”
