And shortly afterward he had set to work, alone, digging the grave in the place that Bill had shown him at the end of the garden, between bushes. He dug with a kind of fury, relishing the manual work, glorying in the non-magic of it, for every drop of his sweat and every blister felt like a gift to the elf who had saved their lives.
I read the gospel of Judas today. I was disappointed. Perhaps my standards for heresy are too high. When I first read about this YAGG (Yet Another Gnostic Gospel, not to be confused with the earlier ‘revolutionary’ gospels of Thomas, Mary, the Savior, Peter, et al), off my imagination lifts, fancying over the Pythagorean influence, the enchanting Egyptian cultic rituals, the deep, Matrix-y suspicions that things aren’t how they seem, etc. All I get is a few little number tricks and some self-generating-emination dude named Saklas. Hell, Borges’ fiction is more pruriently believable than this dross. Why can’t the secret, forbidden knowledge be more exciting???!!!
Additionally, I have also concluded that Scientology is a new Gnosticism, based on similarities between their cosmologies. In reading the gospel of Judas, the full picture of what L. Ron Hubbard was striving to capture all those years quickly appeared.