U.S. Groundhog Day, pre-Celtic Candlemas Focus on International Rewilding/Reuse of Old Farmland w/Solar Assist
U.S. GROUNDHOG DAY, PRE-CELTIC CANDLEMAS FOCUS ON INTERNATIONAL REWILDING/REUSE OF OLD FARMLAND w/SOLAR ASSIST
First Wednesday Creative (& Insecure) Writing Celebration of Indo-Euro-Brit Support for Rewilding Old Spaces w/Solar Panel Technology
Getting Carried Away by their own Animal Festivities
Americans do seem to take Groundhog Day a little too literally sometimes—Pres. Biden’s staff getting rather more worked up about holding the poor animal (ground squirrel/marmot) on high for the cameras this year, rather than low for the (poor beast’s fodder) grass & wood-fiber—beaver cousin pictured below top left). And it is the magical creature’s flat-tailed beaver cousin, that Europeans (bar a few Scots purists) think will save the Day—or at least some of our blessed days in the immediate future of the planet and for all of us grateful inhabitants—if we’re spared!
In U.S.A., February 2nd is usually reserved as a fixed date for the miracle animal’s so-called peep out of his underground hideaway—very similar to us obscure writers, hidden away in our Muse-bower or whatever serves to give us undisturbed solitude with our keyboard—before he theoretically pronounces the weather forecast for the coming month [traditional six week gap]. This year’s Candlemas-Beaver-Groundhog Day got a little complicated by Chinese New Year’s being celebrated early with the beloved #Wabbit—aka Hare—coinciding with the last week in January 2023—so they can celebrate a candle-on-water floating ceremony; but the end results appear to come together as February—ancient Candlemas—begins.
Candlemas, as we learn repeatedly from our ancestors, is traditional Feast Day of Bride; Bridei; old British Brigantia; Forest Maiden & Earth Mother—identifying with Ancient Egyptian ISIS [‘Eset’], above far rt., Egyptian Queen of Heaven & Mother of the World. As Patron of all women, she has in recent years (with feminism rising) become world icon for International Women’s Day. It’s crazy in the Shetland Isles as they, too, are celebrating Up-Hellya amid gale-force winds!
It’s Brazil & S.American Carnival time also—traditionally an end to winter with street parades taking over every town.
Chinese New Year tradition—in nations like S.Korea, Taiwan, Japan, Singapore, mainland China, Burma & Philippines include a prayer-float from shore towards the open ocean, pictured left.
Hawai’i, particularly in winter months, is dominated by an increase in numbers on the southern route of migrating Whales—most vivid & entrancing, the Humpback whales, who often give birth in these tropical waters before returning to their northern grounds in the Salish Sea(B.C.) to overwinter.
Mid-Pacific technology appears already to be able to outstrip Western thinking—perhaps increased hours of sunlight have something to do with it—a Hawai’ian farming project, given Local Government funding & support, are offering farmland acreage on Oahu, HI, complete with installed solar panel-covered roofs—like glasshouses w/built-in sun—so their solar panel technology will be used to maximum, gathering rays while simultaneously covering useful greenhouses.
British Weather Used to Max for Windpower
As a Scots ex-Pat—grateful for no longer having to endure the rigours of the wintry North Coast [Aberdeenshire, Banffshire, Moray Firth], I’m proud to see, not only restoration of my personal tree glade outside my walled garden, pic top rt. but the continued appreciation of the stand of hazel, wild & domestic cherry (gean; morello; pear & alder, bottom 2nd l.) to supplement plum, birch & previous century’s copper beech. Foregound Redwood [Sequoiadendron Giganteum] planted to celebrate the birth of my son there adjacent to/obscuring the two-century-old Douglas Fir [Pseudotsuga Menziesii; gifted by David Douglas as a seedling to the then Minister in residence in 1827 at the Old Manse who was designate Moderator of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland, Edinburgh, at that time. Scots pine aka Caledonian Pine abound.
It is also truly amazing—and fairly Scots in nature—to know that the little kirk below the Manse in the farmland of the Kirkton continues to celebrate a Sunday service once every two weeks!
Nevertheless, weather & human nature being relatively constant—although increasingly wild conditions appear to be taking hold, the winds of the North are being harnessed—following a lead by radical innovator Burnett of Williamston family, led by daughter ‘boss’, with their Culsalmond/Colpy windfarm. Now wind & wave harnessing is occurring through the Glens of Foudland as far as Maggieknockater in the Buchan peninsula to electric generator power centers in the Black Isle, Cromarty; reaching into Sinclair territory in the Far North.
Easter Island Facial Traits Show Influence on Other Pacific Island Residents
Many Europeans may not notice, but there is a noted characteristic in Hawai’ian, and other mid-Pacific island residents like French Frigate Shoals, Guam, resulting in a less-circular “Caucasian” round-headed appearance, and more flat-backed, almost sheared-off shape for which Easter Island’s gods, below—and presumably their ancient resident population—were known. It is remarkable that the Hawai’ian Royal House, headed by King Kamakameha whose statue stands in downtown Hilo, HI overlooking Lilli’ewa Bay, (bottom rt.) took pride in this trait.
Last of the Royal Hawai’ian line, Queen Lilliuokalani, died last week, aged 90. Her hand-sculpted coffin made of local koa wood is currently lying in state in the Royal Palace, Honolulu. She was the daughter of Queen Lydia Kamakameha (1838-1917) who was the ultimate sovereign of the Islands and who lived during the annexation of Hawai’i by the United States in 1898.
Hawai’ians are not only proud of their facial characteristics and unique Pacific heritage, but on special occasions—during hula dance festivals or fire & light ceremonies, they dress with leis (orchid garlands w/mix of tropical blossoms-frangipani, plumeria, hibiscus-in their hair) usually tied in a “topknot”, shown above left. Easter Island topknots were a feature of all the gods aligned on the island’s shore. They were carefully chosen from local volcanic rock, sculpted into the topknot shape.
Many are now lost.
Hawai’ians are not only expert hula dance performers—using hip movement which Europeans take years to learn. But their body shape—maybe considered large to Britiish eyes—in particular with current mountain-climbing madness gripping a (mostly male) muscle-bound population.
Body movement, however, reveals a supple quality within waist & hip gyration that Caucasians are hard-pressed to emulate. It takes years to learn.
Access 2 balmy ocean temperatures have a lot to offer, & many Hawai’ians bathe once or twice daily in local pool. Pictured here rt. within a literal stone’s throw of downtown Hilo, is fave Lilli’ewa Bay. Its easy shallow sandy beach makes it popular not just with locals, but w/Oldies visiting who may have found volcanic black rocks difficult to negotiate elsewhere!
It’s also the single most sought-after go-to pool for that Pacific anomalous practice of Doolah-tending: South Seas (Bali, initially) assist within water to help young mothers prepare for giving birth.
Hawai’ian Paradise Wins Hands Down, Despite Weather Woes
Bottom Line:when all else is said, locals may complain about the weather; Californians about drought alternating with hurricane disruption; New Zealander Kiwis about people raiding their carefully-guarded environmentally-protected reefs, but it’s relative.
Pele—Hawai’ian goddess of fire & ice—continues to reside atop the Mauna, pic above l, holding the world’s largest telescope array [extra-large telescope, ELT] in her sacred grasp, while anchoring her watery toes 29,000ft into the Pacific Ocean’s deepest trench below. She is revered from ocean fringe to Mariana Trench; from coastal California—earthquake roadblock above top rt.—to Bali, Indonesia, Fiji and beyond. Like the Phoenix, ISIS, Egyptian Queen of Heaven, pic top far rt. she may fade but will never die. Even the world telescope symposium atop her sunset summit, above l., keeps touch with local Hawai’ian ‘guardians’ adhering to their policy of no unnecessary disturbance/development at her summit.
It is sacred ground, after all.
Meanwhile, despite record dry rock-bottom water supply (not) in drought-ridden No.Cal (pic 3 above rt.), organic rewilders and other gardening/planting enthusiasts continue to allow the ground around the sacred mountain and its new farmland project in Oahu to prosper—as it will even more when planned solar-panel-roofed greenhouses are erected.
And what about the workers?!
Yes:we writers, IWSGers, NaNoWriMo-ers, Muse-driven regular bloggers, insecure or otherwise, are fortunate to have such a neighborly friendly heritage right on our doorstep. Whether we’re groundhog fans or not, whether we’re just monthly First Wednesday bloggers with a leaf of fresh mint or homegrown lettuce to chew on [lucky us]; let’s agree we are a fortunate lot.
Some people never get past the comic section in their local newspaper—confusingly, Hawai’i’s own is Bahamian (Herald-Tribune) in reverse:Tribune-Herald! See what happens when you let the fritillary (above bottom rt.) out of the chrysalis!
And meantime in authentic Hawai’ian lingo, may I again wish all Hau’oli Makahiki Hou! Happy New Year. Keep on writing!
©2023 Marian C. Youngblood
Social Media Meets its Match—Hackers with Pretend Money Worming Their Way into People’s Hearts
With great sadness I preface this blog with news that Her Majesty the Queen, 96, has died at Balmoral Castle on the Royal Estate, Aberdeenshire. We send sincere condolences and support/love to the Royal Family.
Not certain if as a Brit ex-pat, currently living mid-Pacific, I should announce her death as a post- or ante-script to IWSG & First Wednesday, but a series of unprecedented events this week led me to miss this month’s deadline by 2 days {GMT-1 day PDT}.
My Angelic choir clearly approved/sent spiritual help support my request 2recover from mental & physical violation. Not only did Source aka the Universe send power outage-cum-rainstorm couple hours Weds. evening, but my computah wouldn’t load the blog. Death announcement arrives as the date/midnight changes to zero-day+1 Hence delay, date confusion—didn’t backdate to correct-so here goes Writing Addicts Pic rt. © NewYorker Monarch sits on 11thC Stone of Destiny.
SOCIAL MEDIA MEETS ITS MATCH—HACKERS WITH PRETEND MONEY WORMING THEIR WAY INTO PEOPLE’S HEARTS
FIRST WEDNESDAY BLOG—TIME FOR CREATIVE WRITERS, ARTISTS, MUSICIANS—INSECURE OR OTHERWISE—TO RISE OUT OF OUR DUSTY WRITING CAVERN INTO THE LIGHT OF DAY TO CHRONICLE/COMMENT ON HUMANITY’S SEPTEMBER FOLLIES—BEFORE THE FALL
Hack-Attack: new fearsome enemy on the home front that nobody thought would last
Human memory bank-especially in a child’s 1st, happy, protected, familiar territory with beloved toys, dollies, baby names-rulez!
"I'm gonna buy a paper doll that I can call my own / A doll that other fellas cannot steal / And then those flirty flirty guys / With their flirty flirty eyes / Will have to flirt with dollies that are real" John Mayer
As the Old World [double-entendre] gets demolished around us to make way for the New—below left Cahuenga cut-off where SoCA’s Hollywood “superhighway” (no longer exists) used to link northern end of San Fernando Valley Hwy with downtown Los Angeles Civic Center. Demolished too are downtown Alhambra district Japan and Chinatown, with loss of beloved restaurants like The Far East Café. Korean food trucks replace.
As fuel prices soar, superhighways aren’t getting the traffic. Windfarms and environmentalists rulez.
A ‘stay-at-home work-from-home’ preference shown by majority of employees during our enforced two-year isolation period—using video meetings instead—has begun to rub off on businesses around the globe, with outdoor walks, recreational gardening and a work-at-home-ethic becoming the norm. Remarkably, Saudi desert’s THE LINE, recreational ‘outdoor living’—a feature of old hippie times—is likely to catch on with the new wave—nouvelle vague—of iGen/Generation-Z of youngsters finding joy, pleasure and fulfillment in simple pursuits.
This shorthand version of ‘happiness’ is the wavelength accomplished hackers beam in on. But it’s the oldies—but goodies with a kindly trusting heart—who get spammed.
Decline… and Fall—Call Center Consciousness
There are many spaces between Earth and Heaven and in between are The Doors
misquote Wm.B.Yeats by Jim Morrison & The Doors
In the ‘Fifties when Baby Boomers were ‘in’, English-speaking nations commissioned call centers in Kenya, Ethiopia, Uganda, Pakistan using [cough] “English-speaking” local labour at a fraction of cost of a similar outfit at home in the West. They died pre-internet revolution, with onset of mobile phones, but seem to have raised their head again in this latest phone-related scandal.
In the ‘Sixties and ‘Seventies, nobody gave a thought to such strange remote telephone exchanges. An antiquated (but cheap) method of communication did survive the noughties’ boom. But now, surprise surprise, not only is the hacking empire privy to your personal information, but it has resuscitated the old call-center theme—this time in Nigeria, South Africa and Midlands England.
To a veteran ex-pat Brit with octogenarian comfort zone, a Manchester accent even in text—dahling—is a whole lot less intimidating than a voice on the line in broken accent telling you to hang up already.
The little lady from Manchester—so short of breath you can hear her gasping between texts—but so inner circle—in the know about it all—she has time and patience to chat (text)with an oldie—usually a safe bet as we Booomers & beyond less likely to baulk at bottom line when the money chat comes up.
iGens & Millennials are decidedly wary creatures; have little time for subjects that need a long-winded explanation. Often the shortest answer—no—can take Boomers and vintage grannies a very long time to unearth from their verbal repertoire. So they/we say yes instead and then wonder why our friendly social media accounts no longer belong to us.
Cleverly, the technique works in the hackers’ favour: soc.med. sites like Pinterest and Facebook aren’t equipped to handle breakdown. Restoring isn’t an option, either—your site no longer belongs to you. One has to start all over at the beginning; ask to join Insta, send a new photo—the newbie approach.
Meantime—every day since—my poor iPhone jumps and splutters, beeps and cajoles me from mine- no-longer Insta account telling me fifty-two messages from the hacker to all of my followers. Some of my followers still think it’s me. And until I have the strength to initiate a new account, I’m unable to correct that. Thankfully some (young, bright minds) figured it out & challenged the chat-monkey.
Monsieur Musk Plunges into Twitterdom
Most brilliant of all events, however, unfolding in this cyber-saga of crazies, and because I managed to (sortof) get my Twitter page up and running again, albeit with no files or explanation to friends: I asked Elon Musk to look into security risk and hacking potential of his new acquisition.
True to his image as Humanity’s Saviour, not only did the dear billionaire listen, actually read my text, give it some thought, respond! and follow up but my stats on that day hit the ceiling. Bless you M.Musk
Warning to oldies who get targeted: at first it feels friendly, ‘why not help her? I’m old, what harm can it do?’ Loads. Don’t mean losing friends. I mean losing one’s mind. Constant texting-even when I didn’t reply- sent me to cloud cuckoo-land. More below.
I believe in Musk. I believe he will actually make the change which wraps all this garbage up into a spaceball and flings it into orbit to join all the other spacejunk circling ever circling out there till it falls…
In 40% of hacking cases, the target is older, newcomer-friendly, artistic, feels socially responsible to help humanity and therefore, almost invariably will respond to the long-reaching arm of a complete stranger asking intimate personal questions with a view to “helping out”.
Generation Gap Plus Factor—More Oldie+Goodie Vibe
The older the target, the greater likelihood of receiving off-the-wall personal questions amicably. This sole fact of difference in age producing a different response on a thorny subject has been a miracle catalyst in the whole “false-coin” issue. Hackers already know who the best targets are: they’ve usually well beyond middle years. They’ve had their life. It’s okay to help another out, especially if they’re only just past the starting gate.
One pill makes you larger / And one pill makes you small / And the ones that Mother gave you / Don’t do anything at all
Go ask Alice when she’s ten feet tall
And if you go chasing [White] Rabbits / And you know you’re gpin’ to fall ——— Tell them a hookah-smokin’ caterpillar / Has given you the call
When logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead / And the White Knight is talking backwards / And the Red Queen’s lost her head / Remember what the dormouse said:
Feed your head / Feed your head
courtesy Gracie Slick 1967 & Jefferson Airplane/Starship White Rabbit
‘Advice from a Caterpillar’ from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll illustration by Arthur Rackham d. Sept. 6th 1867-1939 (71) via his dau. Mrs B. Edwards
‘Sixties: Biggest, Most, Best, Weirdest—all the Superlatives
Sample text (below right) received by new Insta ‘followers’, with emphasis on revealing your own pet project, so that #superfriendly lady hacker from Birmingham or Wolverhampton can encourage a ‘sale’
If you were assured a sum of 50 thousand [take your pick, Euro, Yen, Roubles], how would you spend the money?
- New car
- New house
- Cruise liner vacation abroad
- Help relatives
- None of the above
I don’t want to achieve immortality through my work. I want to achieve immortality by not dying
Woody Allen
Music holds the space as underlying influence in all 20thC generations. The earlier the group, the more likely are they to be controlled by addiction of choice. Twenties and Thirties: booze, including illegal venues. Forties: war-restricted, but booze and cigarettes. Fifties & early ‘Sixties: heroin, cocaine, opium. Late ‘Sixties: everything including hard drugs, heroin, cocaine, synthetic and natural coca, ayahuasca, methamphetamine, opiate morphine, lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD) & recreational ganja.
Closing the StarGate: Full Harvest Moon ends Twin Flame Month
So what do the ‘Sixties and 21stC 2022 Full Harvest Moon post-8/8-Lionsgate Twin-Flame month have in common?
For several generations of moviegoers/big screen watchers, film production invariably features as a growing-up medium. Less so is the attitude of Millennials, 16-year old Gen-Zs and 20-year old iGens to anything that smacks of Media, television news, man-made hype. They are, as a rule, only interested in one person aka self.
This generational trait surfaces in art, film, media presence, social interaction, text and creative identity.
Google the first of the bigtime internet-friendly outfits has warned Google Chrome users of the security risk posed by “friendly” hackers.
Twitter, as we’ve seen above, is responding to the threat with appropriate action.
Writing All the Way to the End
For us (Insecure) Creative types, writing fills the gap between empty memory Muse-infused hippie cabin in Redwood country and 21st Century internet wobble from a system of bots who will control our cyber-future.
Stargates are familiar. We’ve all been here before. As all the best ‘Fifties & ‘Sixties beat generation know, Reggae and Boyband Dance Moves are just playful repeats of an age-old message. This one’s REALLY the last time round, this time. Maya gate-keepers confirm.
p.s. Rainstorms over Pacific and gates of Balmoral; yet HM managed to hold an audience with new Tory PM Liz Truss to form a goverment, before she died Weds/early Thurs—like her daddy Geo.VI— in her sleep. Royal Family members William, Charlotte & George had flown north from Norfolk to Ballater and Balmoral on Monday, to be by her side as she rested on advice of doctors. She asked Tory appointee Liz Truss in her official capacity as Monarch to form a government Tuesday. Died peacefully in early hours of Wednesday a.m.
Ticking all the boxes, Your Majesty. Stay cool, Ma’am. We love you.
Like Her Majesty, tapping her riding crop with an impatient dig at the Almighty B4 the Pearly Gates: Open the Door brother: Immortality here we come.
Or words to that effect. Writers write. Bloggers blog. Gardeners plant gardens and the rest is in the hands of Fate. Go ask Alice. She knowz. ©2022 Marian C. Youngblood
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Human Kindness Grows Tentacles—Learning new Migrant ways in CultchaShock of Moving Home—
HUMAN KINDNESS GROWS TENTACLES LEARNING NEW MIGRANT WAYS IN CULTCHASHOCK OF MOVING HOME
MONTHLY FIRST WEDNESDAY EMERGENCE FROM SUBTERRANEAN/SUB-PACIFIC CINDER-CONE TUNNEL for INSECURE WRITERS, FLYAWAY SUPERSCRIBES & WORD-ADDICTS OF ALL AGES
Driving on Right… Thinking on Left
Catherine Zeta Jones‘s experience—a Welsh-born (Sept. 1969 barely a Millennial) star of Glamorgan, S.Wales, then London, Paris, New York and LAX with her hit Chicago (2002, also Renée Zellwegger & Richard Gere) brought her full attention world-wide. Working with and eventually marrying Michael Douglas was a clincher in Hollywood, but she swears her daily quickies to local supermarket or even regular swing-by her hair stylist still cause her palpitations.
You think she’s kidding? Driving on or off the freeway in downtown Los Angeles—or even a leisurely stop off for fries in demure Beverly Hills is not automatic. It causes her to do her “British click-click” as she switches her brain to remember to drive on the right.
It’s no joke.
Back home, on sweet-perfumed winding hedge-lined roads of Tiger Bay rural South Glamorgan—home to Welsh stars Shirley Bassey & Tom Jones, we Boomers, pre-Boomers—Crazee-Oldie Land Girl Diggie Chickies use bicycles, maybe a pony, a horse or two if we’re fortunate, and we DRIVE ON THE LEFT.
This remarkable observation may have escaped the attention of the Greater American continent or in fact most of the Western World and including Oz/NZ & Indonesia; but interestingly NOT Japan. This curious anomaly results in a parking lot in downtown Hilo, Big Island, HI where traffic travels left: entry & exit look left. This teensy weensy change in direction caused chaos on entry to the Suisan marina and dock parking lot—built by Japanese contractor—for the official government-funded multi-glitter rocket-boosted star-filled sky over Hawai’i’s downtown Bayshore—the municipal fireworks display last Monday night, July 4th. Please allow the 4th to be with you. Blatant crib. Sorry Star Wars.
It boomed and popped (superb right-brain chaos thinking) for a prescribed Government-funded fully loaded Fireworks Display lasting precisely 90 minutes. Then all the vehicles drove on the LEFT to get back out on the Highway. Thank you Queen Liliuokalani (last queen) for having us on your shoreline.
I empathize deeply with Catherine—wondergirl to beat all exports from pre-Celtic mystical Wales. I don’t live in SoCal or even get to do a little shopping on Rodeo Drive (long time ago)—no longer desire. But growing up in Scotland, having 30-year offspring period; then zoom All Change—CulchaShock USA here we come. Neither American husband understood. They drove on the right: always; no problem. But neither got it that it was not automatic for me. There’s not a day I don’t forget to remember which side of the street to look out for traffic on: Boom she-bang. Give that woman a ticket.
Olde Times Always There—iGens Tackle Retro-Book-Learning
But there’s hope for us Oldtimers—call us what you will—WWII Land Girls—who wore the dizziest snaz headscarf routine to keep unruly hair out of the pail while milking the cow—or planting kale & cabbage.
May not be quite old enuff to be a Land Girl, but my parents had friends who were and the ethos stuck.
Armed with bucket and spade, sometimes water hose or mechanic’s toolkit, Brit lady volunteers pretty well ran everything behind the scenes, vide HM Queen bottom left, on visit to War Museum to see her khaki wartime volunteer uniform.
Even our language is different. Lingo changes generationally—each new gen a new word. Only now they’re called memes. Don’t ask me. I’m not a millennial. Nor am I an IGen, GenZ or even a Boomer. Ahem. I was born before the Julian calendar change. Well, not quite that old. But…
Onward and upward: pix top above mostly the gorgeous and forever timeless-no-age-looking Zeta-Jones in triplicate counter-clockwise from top left 1. Butterfly nebula to get us thinking aerial thoughts on transformation and transfiguration in this new world 2.&3. trailer for and Catherine’s seminal scene from Chicago starring Richard Gere & Renée Zellwegger 4. July 2022 reconciliation-family reunion of husband Michael Douglas’s estranged son, courtesy selfless Catherine <3. 5. Semi-serious break from Silly Season distractions: Wild boar—contested entrant into human race for environmental regeneration unpopular with some new rewilding charitable institutions; carved stone rooftile found embedded in Chesters fort, Northumberland, part of Hadrian’s Wall abandoned before Roman exit A.D. 420. Sacred wild boar was not only emblem of the 20th Legion Deva Victrix, but important enough for legionaries to hack away at Gordon territorial boar coat of arms in Aberdeenshire [Deva also ancient pre-Celtic name for River Dee—goddess’s victory over sacred water]?
Aberdeenshire is coincidentally target of summertime exit from London heat to pleasures of Scottish country dancing, highland pony trekking, forest rewilding and—later—Braemar Gathering attended by Her Majesty. Formerly part of her holiday from metropolitan demands after she views Windsor Horse Show [fave animal after corgis] & Windsor Royals Polo Match. Unable now to ride because of spinal pain, at age 96, she deputized grandson HRH Prince William to swing his polo stallion around like he’s a professional, good at animal recognition/communication and care. There are plenty horses waiting for them in Balmoral, after touchdown in Scots capital, Edinburgh, to “receive the keys to the kingdom”; a short tree-planting session and (private) passenger train ride later & she will reach Outlander territory allowing rain, wind, trees, river Dee and peace to enfold. She may even get some personal catchup time for reading (and planting more trees) with the children. Lonach Gathering, Strathdon gathers friends of mountain, sky and earth together as the Clans march through the Glen to the sound of the pipes.
Without libraries, what are we? We have no past, no future
Ray Bradbury
Probably most famous of all, the Great Library of Alexandria, Egypt, holding scrolls in its Mouseion—an Academy dedicated to the nine Muses held papyrus scrolls from Nineveh, Nebuchadnezzar’s Babylon 605 B.C.; Sumerian, Assyrian, Mesopotamian papyrus records brought into port in ships of Hellenic origin. This aura of cultural academia was created as a royal initiative on impetus of author-historian Ptolemy I Soter c. 320 B.C. with his son, c.240 B.C Ptolemy II Philadelphus, after the death of Alexander the Great, 323 B.C. when the empire collapsed, dividing into three. The Library was built in the Brucheion (Royal Quarter, below l.) as part of the Mouseion building which included living quarters dining facilities and tax-free academic lifestyle for a dozen teachers. Sacred ‘temple’ for an estimated 400,000 scrolls held by royal command the main purpose of the Ptolemaic campus of buildings was to show off the wealth of Egypt, with research as a lesser goal. Library contents were created strategically for the benefit of their royal ruler, with the Chief Librarian appointed as personal tutor to the king’s son Intent was if scholars were completely freed from all the burdens of everyday life they could devote more time to research and intellectual pursuits. Historian Strabo called the group of scholars who lived at the Mouseion a σύνοδος (synodos, “community”). As early as 283 B.C. they may have numbered between thirty and fifty learned men.
The *Place of the Cure of the Soul*
Μουσεῖον τῆς Ἀλεξανδρείας original Mouseion Academy sacred to Goddesses of the Arts, Nine Muses, was established as major part of Ptolemaic plan: academic tax-free community learning institution, shared dining-living quarters, garden walk, botanical zoo, teaching classrooms, lecture hall, a dozen academics including a Head Librarian. Ptolemy II Philadelphus son on father-historian Ptolemy I Soter’s advice, provided a learning environment, lecture halls, shared dining, reading room, meeting rooms, gardens, creating a model for the modern university campus.[32] A hall contained shelves for the collections of papyrus scrolls known as bibliothekai (βιβλιοθῆκαι). An inscription above shelves read: “The place of the cure of the soul.”
You Have to be Both Sexist & Racist to Remember WWII
Perfectionist in personal appearance, HM’s superb timing @QueensCanopy est. 2022 her charity of choice encouraging tree-planting by spade & rake aka WWII WRAC female-backup force technique! Monarch’s war uniform held London Military Museum
Alternate aphorism from Brit Land Girls as reaction to learning of American G.I.s’ rural station as uniformed migrant gum-chewing baggy-pants-wearing khaki bois drinking at the local: “Them Yanks—over-weight, over-sexed and over here”
Remembering to Remember or Forgetting Writing Cues, Deadlines
July stand by! It’s traditionally hurricane season in Bahamas and Antilles—but it’s Silly Season in the Press Office—this grateful not-so-young pre-Boomer still breathing & counting the sacred numbers, despite current trending political Brit. Downing Street news. No.10 Cat is more clued in on that story.
Much more relevant to the wondrous miracle of being present—of hauling oneself by one’s bootstraps out of our Cinder Cone Cave of Writerly Solitude to Face the World for one first Wednesday per month: think NaNo & IWSG who both have summer projects on the slow burner.
Smell Burning? It’s a cloud of leftover dynamite, gunpowder smoke from July 4 Independence Day Weekend+Monday fireworks-to-die-for, sparkler* heaven for Oldie Americans, rocket shower gems for toddlers. All cats indoors, however. Drive ‘wrong way’ down Bayshore & Banyan.
Watch yer feet for S.Korean Enhypen-clone #redsnapper bangers—all the rage.
*p.s. On anti-glitter sparkler campaign, I washed some of my shiny (sixties’) Mendocino abalone shells and resulting glitter scattered on the carpet as I dried them was verrrry sparkling!
Light Beings Call (Writing) Hideaway Hotline by Sacred Numbers
They say home is where the heart is; Deepak Chopra says breath is life; Zen monk Thich Nhat Hanh would say breathe in I have arrived—breathe out I am home, Peek out cave take in-breath; write blog post blog tune into madness of human lot. On exhale, the pundits say, we put the world to rights. Happy 4th or as #roaring ‘twenties star Groucho Marx said “plenny mo’ numbers”. Happy scribing. ©2022 Marian Youngblood
Maypole Dancing for Beginners—Tripping the Light Fantastic
MAYPOLE DANCING FOR BEGINNERS—TRIPPING THE LIGHT FANTASTIC
INSECURE WRITERS’ FIRST WEDNESDAY LEAP FROM DARK WO/MAN-CAVE INTO THE LIGHT
Leaping out of Dark Writers’ Cave into Dazzling Light Takes Guts
Bealtainn, Celtic quarter day of the ancient pre-Christian calendar, brings out all the suppressed joy held inside all winter, screaming it into the daylight, sunshine’s warm glow, encouraging us to leave all negativity and pessimistic thoughts behind (down there in our man/woman writers‘ cave and brave the reality of a world struggling to love itself, despite restricted activity and anti-diluvian healthcare system.
Maypole dancing—like Morris dancing—is Saxon English in origin rather than sprung from a native Celtic/Scots/Pictish Irish celebration of summer—quarter day Bealtainn/Beltane exactly divides the ancient year into four, with cross-quarter days every six weeks—
Weaving, like maypole dancing, entwines threads seamlessly from different origins
Ancient archetypes, top, not altogether helpful during astral fireworks in May skies; focus solar & lunar conjunction clusters of Jupiter/Uranus Venus/Mars in Taurus with Pisces bringing up every watery emotion
Images, top, bring archaic belief to life—except for last, recent find in Turkey: wine-god Dionysus, decapitated, drowning floundering in his own filth, blood-stained or worse—anti-booze ad par excellence. Others, from Vatican lookalike flower-of-life orb to amygdala, pineal gland/brain cortex held by our primeval/ancestral dragon self, l. to simple ride on hippocampus, rt, forerunner to seahorse and/or unicorn; top mid rt. classic show of devotion by (Phrygian-capped) Ganymede, synchronously cup-bearer to the gods—offering to Zeus who appears as the Great Eagle—and as one of Jupiter’s main satellites in a Galileo universe, 1560s.
Northern Fishing Villages Last to Keep Fire-Festival Tradition
Rural Banffshire and the Pictish North Coast have vastly different traditions of their own—ranging from the precursor to Nevada’s Burning Man—Bealltainn ‘Burn the Witches #Bonefire’ (May 2nd) Lammas Fire (Aug.1) & famously, Burghead’s Clavie Burning still has a hold in fishing communities all along the Moray coast—Burghead one of few remaining to uphold fire festival tradition. Superstition holds firm in Buckie in particular, with its 32 churches. Until WWII all the northern ports held bonfire rituals four times a year. Stonehaven’s Swinging Fireballs is a relic of Hallowe’en, but held now on Hogmanay.
According to the Rev. Gregor, In some districts fires were kindled on May 2nd, O.S., called bonefires. It was believed that on that evening and night, witches were abroad in all their force, casting ill on cattle and stealing cow’s milk. To counteract their evil power branches of rowan tree and woodbine were hung over byre doors, with fires kindled by every farmer and cottar. Old thatch, straw, furze (gorse), broom clippings gathered into a central ‘bonefire’ were set alight moments after sunset. Some continually fed the fire, while others pick up flaming mass with pitchforks and poles and run hither and thither through the smoke or dancing round the fire shouting ‘Fire! Blaze an’ burn the Witches’.
In some villages (1881)a large round cake made of oat or barley-meal was rolled through the ashes. “When all was burned up, the ashes were celebrated and scattered far and wide, and all continued until quite dark to run through the ashes crying ‘Fire! fire! burn the witches’.” Gregor
Vestiges of such a strong tradition remain—every port on Aberdeen’s North Coast used to celebrate.
Distributing fire altar gifts from the Doorie, Clavie King Dan Ralph is one of few remaining Burghead residents who remembers when all northern fishing ports celebrated, with ‘pieces’ of burning Clavie barrel given to important local residents (publican, harbor master) on Clavie Crew’s ritual circling of the town.
By the Fireside—Peat Smoke & Storytelling—Centre of the Hoos
“At one corner of the hearth sat the father, and at the other the mother. Between the two, family group might extend to a servant or two, for all were on a footing of equality; the servant being a neighbour’s son or daughter of exactly the same rank and means.
“All were busy. One of the women might be knitting, another making/mending an article of dress.
“Of the men, one might be making candles from bog-fir—cleavin can’les—another manufacturing wood harrow-tynes, a third sewing brogues, and a fourth weaving a pair of mittens. [cleek]
“Family evenings usually included one or more neighbours spending time at the fireside, sharing supper together from the communal cooking pot—this was called geein them a forenicht. On these occasions, young women brought their spinning wheels on their shoulders and their wool or flax under arm. It was not unusual for three or four spinning wheels to be going at once, skilful fingers busy at the stent, with each spinner vying with the other who would be first to complete.” Rev. W. Gregor, 1881
Tales of Supernatural Draw Children in Around the Hearth
He continues. “When the children’s school-books were laid aside, and they’d finished their homework, it was time for song and story and ballad to begin. For most part stories were of fairies and their doings, water-kelpies, ghosts, of witches and their deeds, of compacts with the Devil, and what befell those who made such compacts; of men skilled in black airt, and strange things they were able to do.
“As tale succeeded tale, and the big peat fire began to fade, younger members crept nearer and nearer to the older ones and after a little, seated themselves on their knees or between them and the fire, with eyes now fearfully turned to the doors, now to the chimney, now to a corner whence issued the smallest noise, and now to the next, in dread of seeing some of the uncanny brood. Often stories were mixed in with history, oftentimes the wars between England and Scotland, but the Supernatural beings always won.”
The Folk-Lore of the NORTH-EAST OF SCOTLAND by the Reverend Walter Gregor, M.A. published for the FOLK-LORE SOCIETY, London Paternoster Row, E.C. 1881
Highland Hospitality—Roaring Nineties’ Déjà Vu of PotLuck
120 year gap: fires and fire festivals then & now—hearth centre of the home, above, photos 1860 courtesy Theodora Fitzgibbon’s ‘A Taste of Scotland Traditional Scots Recipes’, 1971
Aberdeen and Northeast Scotland isn’t known just for its whisky and shortbread. The North Coast has a long tradition of smoking/drying fish: Speldings—Sandend, Portsoy, Buckie haddock, herring, trout, ling cod, even potted salmon in the Blootoon, Peterheid.
600ft Tor of Troup-Gamrie Mohr Immune to Norse, Foodie Heaven
Eentie teentie tippenny bun The Cat geed oot tae get some fun To get some fun played on a drum Eentie teentie tippenny bun—festival rhyme, Banff
Eetum peetum penny pump A’a the ladies in a lump Sax or saiven in a clew, A’ made wi’ candy glue
Fraserburgh Rhyming slang, Party Games mnemonics
Think Bannocks, Forfar Bridies, Mutton pies, Aiberdeenshire is famous for Butteries—the buttery rowie: breakfast-lunch #bap (bun) snack of roll oozing butter. Cullen, Banffshire where Scots king Culen died 967, has Cullen skink, ice cream! intact railway viaduct, pink beaches from extruded Old Red Sandstone while Portsoy and MacDuff boast their secret ocean treasure of fresh ling cod, lobster, shrimp and crab available at dockside. Other locations like 600ft, Gamrie Mohr to Tor of Troup teeter high over waves on an open coastline which dissuaded Viking intrusion. St.John’s kirk, and neighbouring Findlater castle are perfect examples of the Buchan coastline’s built-in immunity to attack. St.John’s North sea-facing stone wall, built c.1100, featured Norse skulls from the ‘Bloody Pits’ (‘Bleedy Pots’) battlefield above Gamrie-Crovie beach where a foolish longship anchored without a familiar Fjord (c.f. Argyll, Western Isles coast) to ‘cloak’ its approach. Similarly at Sandend, 16thC Findlater castle perches eye-to-eye with gannets and puffin over sheer drop cliff below, its ‘local’ kirk at Fordyce another 8thC Fite kirk (fite=white aka built of stone not sod, see King Nechtan) is dedicated to St.Talorcan. Like all 8thC Fite kirks—it has the mark of early monastic peripatetic teaching, following a line of stone-built kirks from Tyrie to Strichen and from Old Deer to Old Rayne.
Sandend, still famous for its smokies (dried haddock), smoked salmon, kippers—and surfing—is part of mediaeval landholdings of Fordyce castle, itself a stone’s throw away from Roman-occupied Deskford, where the famed (near-unique) Pictish carnyx battle horn lay buried after battle, c. 420 A.D.
Foodwise, Banff & Buchan were originally geared for oats: oatcakes, Skirlie and Atholl Brose (all use oatmeal). Neeps n’ tatties, too: basic soup broth. Stovies are potatoes fried open fire. And barley (bear) from ancient strain makes the best whisky. Try Caledonian Creme.* *Be prepared: there’s a lot of whisky about: Atholl brose and Caledonian cream specials are loaded with it.
Frighten Away Ghosts by Playing Party Games, Rhymes
I saw a doo flee ower the dam, Wi’ silver wings an’ golden ban; She leukit east, she leukit west, She leukit fahr tae light on best. She lightit on a bank o’ san’ Tae see the cocks o’ Cumberlan’ Fite puddin’ black trout—Ye’re Oot’
Rev. Walter Gregor Folklore 1881 collection of party rhymes and garden hide-and-seek games, counting conundrums, nonsense rhymes, many lost to current generation, see below
As I gaed up the Brindy Hill* I met my faither—he geed wull He hid jewels, he hid rings; He’d a cat wi’ ten tails He’d a ship wi’ sivven sails He’d a haimmer dreeve nails. Up Jack, doon Tam; Blaw the bellows, aul’ man. *Brindy, Cothiemuir wood, Alford
Mr Smith’s a very good man; He teaches his scholars noo an’ than. An’ fin he’s deen he taks a dance Up t’London doon t’France He wears a green beaver wi’ a snoot Tarry Diddle— ye’re oot!
Cottar hand-weaving kashie, left, to carry peat from bog’s drying dykes after casting
similar traditional Pacific hand weave hats, baskets neck gear in ‘maypole’ weave, top
Eerinnges, oranges, twa fer a penny Ah’m a guid scholar fer coontin’ sae many—Portsoy
Eerie, aaree, Biscuit Mary, Pim, Pam, Pot—Portsoy
Eetum fer peetum, the King cam tae meet ‘m, An’ dang John Hamilton doon—Tyrie
As I gaed up the aipple tree, A’ the aipples stack tae me; Fite puddin’ black trout, I choose you oot fer a dirty dish clout—party game counter, choosing a partner, Portsoy
Een, twa, three, fower, five, sax, sieven A’a them fisher dodds widna win t’ haven
Anti-fishing joke rhyme told by fishermen of the Broch (Fraserburgh) against themselves, 1880s
Writerly Advice or Just Common Sense
No critique: but current iGens, Tween-tiger/tigresses, GenZ, even Millennials are far more interested in possible NorthCoast sources for fresh lobster, wild salmon, Sandend speldings or Deveron troot than how those precious fishing villages survived, nay now thrive, despite decades of neglect. Same goes for the Doric language. Unless our genetic curiosity prevails, what hope is there for us country quines?
Nevertheless our joint hereditary conditioning—see previous post on Scythian-Scots Irish connection, echoed by Walter Gregor—digs deeply into a [Caucasian] genetic ability to adapt to whatever Mother Nature throws at us. Plus a deeply-embedded love of fire and celebration by flame in all its guises. Burning the old allows us entry into the new. As writerly occupants of subterranean Wo/Man Cave dwellings—who’ve really had a long winter—we can surely agree now’s a great time for renewal.
Happy month of May, a rare celestial all-planets direct, conjunction and… May the 4th be with You. ©2022 Marian Cameron Youngblood
Mad Dogs & Englishmen—in Solstice 2020 Heat, Invoke Water, Rainbows
MAD DOGS AND ENGLISHMEN…SOLSTICE 2020 HEAT, INVOKE WATER, RAINBOWS and IRIS
First Wednesday Monthly Writing Corner for Writers Unlimited, IWSGs, NaNoWriMoers, Indies et al
They say astro signs show portents of changes before they occur. We humans are often slow to comprehend.
Iris, ancient Greek, Egyptian, Sumerian goddess of the Eye & the Rainbow, daughter of the West Wind (Zephyr), she joined ocean and sky, sending healing messages to earth’s creatures
With a significant lunar eclipse coming to occult the Full Rose Moon this Friday, June 5th, and despite challenging earth changes flourishing through rapid temperature rise worldwide, we writerly brigade feel it necessary to inject a positive attitude—and some long-forgotten traditions—into the pastry mix before we all stir the recipe into oblivion.
Venus, ancient love symbol, lately gloriously brightest in our evening skies, is now retrograde, tonight drowning in the Sun, and about to enter the Underworld.
She will emerge later this month as a ‘morning star’. This is a time of wild emotions, but inner beauty can be expressed, too. Venus, Aphrodite, Ishtar, Isis were all facets of goddess of love capable of helping the human race.
MesoAmerican study of Venus cycles provided help to ancient races transfixed by Venus’s precision in the sky. Modern man could use such help.
We need it. There’s currently no help from the Crop Circle brigade unfortunately—As of June 1st, there had been total ONE Crop Circle in the so-called 2020 Season—and that in Belgium!
So—to Ancient Greece—and pre-Roman, hereditary Arabic star clusters and constellations for inspiration and sky-watching between sporadic bouts of earthbound television [not advised]. There we find hidden in myth, but shining in light elusive Iris who gives us the word iridescent—the word itself brings sparkle.
Brief background on this tiny reclusive spirit:
The goddess Iris, using her rainbow bridge, linked the sea and the sky, and she was allowed to enter the underworld and dive in the depths of the sea. The oldest Greek tradition imagined her as the goddess who supplied the clouds with water she scooped from the seas using a golden amphora or storage vessel aka pitcher, and thus stimulated the rains that brought growth and fertility to the earth. This originated from observing actual rainbows, whose one end can hide deep beyond the horizon, often in the sea or a body of wate, with its other end reaching for the heavens. She is responsible for healthy summer fertility and growth.
In Roman tradition (often similar to Greek), god Mercury is Messenger to the Gods. Not so in earliest tradition in ancient Greece and Egypt:
Iris alone was Messenger to the Greek gods and goddesses at first. Child of the West Wind—father Zephyr— and her mother Electra, a cloud nymph as well as one of the seven Pleiades, she could bring and deliver messages to all corners of Ocean and Sky. The Pleiades themselves were associated with water in all forms—rain, frost, ice, snow, lakes, rivers, and oceans.
Iris was the rainbow bridge.
Maiden Goddess with Iridescent Golden Wings
In some texts she is depicted wearing a coat of many colors. With this coat she actually creates the rainbows she rides to get from place to place. Iris’s wings were said to be so beautiful that she could even light up a dark cavern, a trait observable from all her stories.
Her cult held her as goddess supreme of communication, messages—exterior and intuitive—and her appearance was believed to mark major cultural change and new endeavors.
Though Iris was principally associated with communication and messages, she was also believed to aid in the fulfillment of humans’ prayers, either by fulfilling them herself or by bringing them to the attention of other higher deities.
In some texts she is depicted wearing a coat of many colors. With this coat she actually creates the rainbows she rides to get from place to place. Iris’s wings were said to be so beautiful that she could even light up a dark cavern, a trait observable from in the story of her visit to Somnus in order to relay a message to Alcyone.[9]
Though Iris was principally associated with communication and messages, she was also believed to aid in the fulfillment of humans’ prayers, either by fulfilling them herself or by bringing them to the attention of other deities.
Because no place in Creation was forbidden to her, she was delegated to carry water which she dived to collect from the River Styx [mythological river division between living and dead] and fly with it to Mount Olympus for the Gods to use to swear their oaths by.
Pleiades ocean sky nymphs reflect earth’s fairies/elves in many traditions
In Aboriginal & European mythology the Pleiades are often referred to as ocean or sea nymphs; as water girls and ice maidens. Their relationship with water is multi-layered and multi-faceted and we see numerous connections of the Pleiades with the weather, agriculture, navigation and sailing
Munya Andrews
In earliest Hellenist tradition, Iris monopolized the function of Messenger to the Gods. In early records, like Homer’s Trojan War epic the Iliad, she is the only one allowed to relay messages from Zeus–and, once, Hera–to other gods or mortals, with Hermes being given the much smaller rôle of guide and guardian.
Sit Arthur Rackham, 1867-1939, pictured young Iris as the embodiment of a mystical rainbow bridge between heaven and earth
Like the part of the eye named after her, she was the Kore, Virgin, or Female Soul, a form of the Great Shakti who was both the organ of sight and the visible world that it saw. Her spectrum spanned all possible colors
Barbara G.Walker
It is only in later proto-Roman Greece that Hermes becomes the ‘official’ messenger to the Gods, aka Roman Mercury. By then Zeus relied on Hermes; but Hera continued to rely on Iris because she could manifest, transmit her message and disappear instantly.
No known sanctuary exists where Iris’s cult was held. However, in the lion-ramparted island of Delos, however, annual feasts were prepared in June with offerings of wheat cake, honey and fig delicacies for the youthful idol.
Rainbow appearance and disappearance is still viewed in some cultures as a ‘magical sign’. And many traditions view a double rainbow as double good fortune.
Greek Constellation Cepheus Shelters Iris
Iris appears from Mediterranean skies as far as the Equator as a Nebula within Cepheus, itself a member of the Perseid group. Cepheus is named for mythical King Cepheus of Aethiopia, husband of Cassiopeia and father of Andromeda, all represented by neighboring constellations. Like other constellations in the Perseus family, Cepheus was catalogued by the Greek astronomer Ptolemy in the 2nd century.
Iris used rainbows to travel phenomenal distances at the ‘speed of the winds’
According to Space.com, Cepheus is the 27th largest constellation in the night sky, occupying an area of 588 square degrees. It is located in the fourth quadrant of the northern hemisphere (NQ4) and can be seen at latitudes between +90° and -10°. Neighboring constellations are Camelopardalis, Cassiopeia, Cygnus, Draco, Lacerta, and Ursa Minor.
Cepheus belongs to the Perseus family of constellations, along with Andromeda, Auriga, Cassiopeia, Cetus, Lacerta, Pegasus, Perseus, and Triangulum. Sky Map here.
Almost all this group can be seen close-to-overhead in Northern night sky around summer solstice—even with the full moon.
[Insecure] Writerly Benefits of Lockdown—Keep On Writing
While looking skyward in the next few weeks may just take our (introvert writing) minds off forced re-entry into normal world affairs, I am the first to encourage the habits gleaned from social isolation to get to the old computah—or manifest a brand new one—and write it all out before anyone outside our charmed inner sanctum gets in and tells us it’s all a dream.
No, it’s not a fantasy. Life, writing and speaking daily to one’s Muse are part of the Dream we signed up for, didn’t we? And a little background levity alongside learning never went amiss. Check back here when summer’s over and we’ll see how we all fared. And keep those fans blowing. ‘Cos it’s hot out there.
©2020 Marian Youngblood
Taking the Summer (S)Train—Leaving the World to its Own Fine Madness
LEAVING ON THE NEXT TRAIN
Monthly INSECURE WRITERS Corner
“From all I’ve learned, there’s no religious revelation more satisfying than hard-won food of simple understanding—no liberation compares with seeing oneself as the illusions/delusions of the Age we live in.”
Terence McKenna b. November 16, 1946, Paonia, CO. d. April 03, 2000, San Rafael, CA
R.I.P. SweetSpirit
Living in a Time Wobble
Most nations now live in a kind of time wobble, predicted by McKenna, with fantasy worlds available to us electronically day and night.
Fifteen years after the death of ‘Altered Statesman’—colleague and ethnobotanist partner in triumvirate of Berkeley LSD scientists—of whom only Baba Ram Dass survives, Terence McKenna progressed Timothy Leary’s ‘sixties psychedelic débût by experiencing 15 years as an Amazon Ayahuasca Shaman.
Finally he planted his own Hawai’ian paradise, where his life cycle terminated.
McKenna was convinced that Western society lives in a kind of a time wobble. With fantasy worlds available via Internet and Cell 24/7, we have essentially relinquished control over what our subconscious has already (collectively) devised for us.
“Time and our consciousness are speeding up. We are being drawn closer to the Attractor at the End of Time”
He called this our Eschaton.
Media-eye-view of the World
If we are already in the thrall of a winking blinking (fantasy-internet-Muse) light at the end of a metaphorical Tunnel, the only antidote for these Cosmic surprises is laughter.
Thunder Moon Jupiter-Venus Conjunction
Before we get to the funnies, however, let’s take a quick look at how indigenous cultures in the Americas call on ancestral Spirits, to aid them through each Moon’s wax-wane cycle.
Vedic Ganesh holds tonight’s July 1st Full Moon between his Tusks, shines Light of Clarity into Waters of our Soul
January: Wolf Moon (end December) Old Moon
February: Snow Moon, Hunger Moon
March: Worm Moon, Crow Moon, Sap Moon, Lenten Moon
April: Seed Moon, Pink Moon, Sprouting Grass Moon, Goose Egg Moon, Fish Moon
May: Milk Moon, Flower Moon, Corn-Planting Moon
June: Mead Moon, Strawberry Moon, Rose Moon, Thunder Moon
July: Hay Moon, Buck Moon, Thunder Moon
August: Corn Moon, Sturgeon Moon, Red Moon, Green Corn Moon, Grain Moon
September: Harvest Moon, Full Corn Moon
October: Hunter’s Moon, Blood Moon, Sanguine Moon
November: Beaver Moon, Frosty Moon
December: Oak Moon, Cold Moon, Long Nights’ Moon
Alternate Avenues through Muse Moodswings
When all else fails, #Humor never fails to do the trick. Even the saddest, most died-in-the-wool ‘LeaveMeAlone~I’m going away to eat Worms’ Muse-abandoned writer—the Mole—cannot fail to pause—if only for a blogging millisecond—and let out a chuckle.
If this apology for a monthly moan will suffice, dear Reader, and dear Cap’n-@our-Ninja-helm, Alex J. Cavanaugh 😉
then let me regale you with an Alternative Alphabet, conceived somewhere along those truly ephemeral airwaves our war-torn parents/grandparents constructed to amuse themselves, after a hard day’s work.
In their precious evenings, RADIO sprang to life. All kinds of fantasies might be fulfilled, all sounds and frequencies attempted.
Fantastical ‘Forties Fantasies over the R.A.D.I.O
For my sins, I grew up in a ‘Forties household, shielded from The Woah by a protective parent who—child polio victim, unable to serve—made all broadcasts [aka News] top priority. It became evening entertainment for the whole family—as there was only one radio!
Among a plethora of sounds emanating from the small walnut-cased glowing-dial box in the corner of the sitting room, after homework was done, we were allowed to hear a few tidbits.
One of these—probably altered beyond reasonable comprehension, to any but a native Scot—a rare glimpse into a smattering of hilarious popular culture of the time, a mingled brew—indiscriminate. But it has to make you laugh.
Give me this. You will at least allow yourself a giggle.
And, with all the crazies going on out there—Full Moon tonight, Jupiter and Venus in close conjunction, solar flares mixed in with Fourth of July weekend yet to come—you know it’s the best medicine~lol
‘FORTIES FORTITUDE: Adversity Kindling the Common Heart
Ralph Waldo Emerson got it right.
“Yet, from it all I have learned that there is no religious revelation more satisfying than the hard-won food of simple understanding.”
Om, Omega, Oversoul
ALTERNATIVE ALPHABET
A is 4 ‘orses
Beefor Mutton
C For Th Highlanders
Deef or Dumb
Eve or Adam
F for Vescence
Geoffery Farnol
H for Scratch
Ivor Novello
Jefferson Airplane*
Kay Fr-ancis
L for Leather
M for a Pie (Dundee accent, pie=peh)
N for a Pint (probably home brew: post-War booze was in short supply)
O fer the Sea to Skye
P fer Sninks ???
At anchor in Dundee, HMS Discovery, flagship of Robert Falcon Scott’s tragic Antarctic expedition, 1910—symbol of Brit fortitude/failure against all odds
Q fer the ‘tippenies’ (cheap tuppenny seats Saturday matinée local cinema)
Rfur Askey
S for Williams
Tea for Two
U for me
V for Victory—this WAS the ‘Forties
W for Quits
X for Breakfast
Y for No?
Z for the Abbulance [nasal voice]
*[inserted by TimeMaster Alien, ‘cos.I can’t remember 1940s’ original]
I dare some Elder from the Olde Countree of Great Memory NOT to remember at least some of these [North-of-the-Border] Vaudeville gems.
©2015 Marian Youngblood
Pay It Forward: February Resolve to Crack the Ice
INSECURE WRITERS’ SUPPORT GROUP CORNER
Ultimate irony: more light= more snow
PAYING IT FORWARD—Whatever the Weather
More chill—just one more plod thru the snow and I’ll make it, if…
Such a scenario, I hope, should not happen to a single one of you in Alex’s band of Insecure Writers.
Buxom Ice Maiden on New England’s Arctic front, February 2015, courtesy NOAA
Februarius mensis, after all—even for the Romans—was their “month of purification”. Adopted freely by the medieval Roman Catholic church, it morphed into Candlemas—Purification and doorway to Lent.
“The Feast of the Purification, otherwise known as Candlemas marks the end of the Season of Christmastide” according to Roman Catholic Latin Mass Society
Februarius mensis “month of purification, cannot conceivably have been named for anyone frivolous, one imagines.
Blame it on Celtic Fire Festivals
Yet, long before there was a church hierarchy, pagan/country people worshipped cycles of the Earth, relating sun and moon movements to life and daily work. In pre-Celtic Europe Candlemas was Feast Day of Bride—mermaid birthed by the Ocean with dramatic increase in daily light, Brigantia in Roman Britain, Brigid/Brighid in Irish lore, some identify her with great warrior queen of the Iceni, Dark Age winged monarch Boudicca.
Brazilian CARNAVAL, German Fasching, Mardi Gras in New Orleans and Bahamian JUNKANOO all have the same roots.
Carnaval crazy in Rio-BueñosAires-Hamburg-CaboRoag-Archangel-Everglades-Nassau
‘First come Candlemas
Syne the New Meen
The niest Tiseday efter that
Is aye Festern’s E’en.
That Meen oot
An’ anither at its hicht
The niest Sunday efter that
Is aye Pasche richt.’
Ancient Scots Easter calculation. Anon
Cusp Candlemas waxing gibbous moon, with a congregation of planetary companions
Cosmically, last night’s full moon, parading across the heavens with Jupiter and Regulus in harness, like celestial sundogs borrowed from daytime frolics to dance a nighttime mazurka, gave a little more pizzazz to February darkness.
Magnificent. And in the U.S., they call this Groundhog Day.
It may be short, but sadly, those twenty-eight nights of February are often a crucial month to the human psyche.
It is common knowledge—however tragic—that senior spirits, weathering many winters, often find the ‘two fortnights of Februar’ hardest to bear—(statistically) choose to die.
Healthcare vs. Warfare
Americans may deplore lack of national health and welfare systems, as in Europe, but where poverty lurks, conditions remain identical. Homeless people worldwide—their numbers grow every year—suffer. For some, there is no welfare check, no food stamps, no heat. And when winter returns with a vengeance, bringing an icy blast, street people—no matter which culture dominates—are marginalized.
Many die.
Pay It Forward: the NewAge Way*
One solution to life’s stresses is in the mindset of our Youth.
Reverse psychology had it only half right.
By projecting our loving thoughts, or acting forward-in-kind, we anticipate—and receive in advance—the reward of giving another pleasure, and feeling his/her gratitude
GRATITUDE—winging on a love vibration—certainly makes the world go round.
Octogenarian Angie Dickinson, neé Angeline Brown, shows how best to pay-it-forward
1989 Academy Awards
In Pay It Forward (2000), U.S. film drama based on Catherine Ryan Hyde’s novel, child star Haley Joel Osment launches a good-will movement—almost by accident in doing research for his social studies class. Helen Hunt, his single mother, and Kevin Spacey, sociologist-mentor are stunned when Angie Dickinson turns out to be his real-life street-wise ‘consultant’ for his school project.
Octogenarian and proud of it, Angie Dickinson—my heroine, 83 this year and counting–is one of Hollywood’s hardest working gals. No sign of slowing down, either.
Born Angeline Brown, September 30, 1931 (age 83) in Kulm, North Dakota, her family moved to Glendale-Hollywood, where she graduated in business studies, aged 15. Briefly married to football player Gene Dickinson (m. 1952–60) and longer to composer Burt Bacharach (m. 1965–81), her only child Nikki Bacharach (1966-2007) committed suicide.
Portraying a homeless cohort to young do-gooder Joel in Pay It Forward, Ms Dickinson helps him regenerate other lives which might have floundered. This simple act of anonymous giving, in frame of mind of seeking no comeback, does produce small miracles.
New Age—New Wave—nouvelle vague: we’ve got something here. Rolling with this one—High FIVE
To give, and not to count the cost
To fight, and not to heed the wounds,
To toil, and not to seek for rest,
To labor, and not to ask for any reward,
Save that of knowing that we do Thy Will
― Ignatius of Loyola
And as we know: miracles—and love—make the world go round.
*inspired by a friend & co-believer in humankind
Post Scriptum: THE WAVE
In context of leaving anonymous gifts without seeking acknowledgement—as someone we all know around here does every month—ahem Ninja Cap’n Alex: this a trait which has carried our little group of IWSG-ers through some hard times. I have complete faith that Alex’s own brand of Paying it Forward will continue to support us. And I know I—and loads of my writerly co-travelers—will dig in with both feet as we reap greater and better life rewards!
Let’s enter that Consciousness, New Age IWSGers—go with that Flow, er Wave.
©2015 Marian Youngblood
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A NewYear [2015] Epiphany of Mind
INSECURE WRITERS’ SUPPORT GROUP—IWSG January—Catchup Corner
Our star at perihelion, opposite full Cancer Moon
January can often tax the kindest of our good intentions. Plus—forgive me for mentioning—an almost-75% landmass of the Northern hemisphere—E.United States hardest hit—is suffering blizzard conditions; a so-called mini-Ice Age.
NAKED IN SPACE—Comet Lovejoy in our Skies
Any emotional burdens which add to our New Year resolutions tend to throw our resolve out the window. But in the first week of the new year we are regaled by a delightful naked-eye object, to give our spirits a lift. Comet Lovejoy demands attention this week, drawing our sight heavenward. This is never a bad thing. By lifting our eyes from the computer, balance sheet, diaper drier, our thoughts get a chance to lie still for a moment. Instead, we can direct our attention to other—more dreaming musings—future successes—family changes—fame—whatever floats our boat. Our inner secrets revealed.
With our (astroLOGICAL) lives held in a 30-year Saturnine cycle, it’s nice to have a few little trifles to cheer us up when we get low: on motivation, NewYear rez—y’know—THAT time.
The Way Forward
But, thanks, as ever, to our fearless leader, Alex, who encourages us all by his supreme example: that abundance doesn’t need to mean hard slog!
Living in Present/Presence
Forget Auld Lang Syne: it’s all according to how we/you live now.
To plan y/our way forward, in life and in our day-to-day rhythm, we need to get comfortable first.
Any dream is gud!
—more fabulous the better tku Aesop & all who Rock
NOW is where it’s at.
Within our little writerly IWSG community, fostered so well by our Ninja Cap’n Alex, I believe we writers have surfaced enough times here as a group, to understand our ‘other’ writerly silences. It goes with the territory.
I also believe, as fearless Alex constantly (gently) encourages us, that we are being asked—not just as a comfort-zone monthly moan-sharing group of Dreamweavers to open our own minds to what we can do. But to open our hearts as well.
Because soul-to-soul, we help each other connect to what really motivates us, just by holding each others’ hands through yet another (30-year wake-up call) Saturn Return.
’Nuff said.
Don’t do what I say. Do what Alex does!
Happy Epiphany & many 2015 Revelations.
©2015 Marian Youngblood
500 Days till 12:XII:TWELVE: Crop Circle prophecies
500 Days until 12:XII:TWELVE
'Angel' crop circle Barbury Castle, July 2, 2011: dimensional wormhole or Mayan 13-moon calendar? Images courtesy CircleChasers & Nardeep Pujji
According to several ancient cultures, we are entering a new phase in human development, human consciousness, earth-consciousness, union with the Divine.
Astrology was to the ancestral mind a gift from the future, the heavenly bodies’ allowing the human race a glimpse of time’s far shore, a beacon through uncharted waters –literally steering the human vessel by the stars. And –however skeptical you may be– all ancient cultures had their oracle, allowed themselves to be guided by astrological readings based on ever-changing celestial movement and planetary alignments and collisions.
Many have become dissociated from the daily rhythms of the Earth, forget to look nightly at the stars and their feelings seem divorced from reality –whatever that is. The thought of one’s emotions actively being influenced by the electromagnetic and orbital changes of planets in the solar system — let alone the distant stars — is often ridiculed as being naïve, even ignorant.
Solstitial full moonrise, stone circle Northeast Scotland Midwinter 2004, photo Marian Youngblood
The calendar of the ancient Maya has become significant in recent times as a wayshower to help us navigate through the choppy waters of group consciousness. In Mayan calculation, their ancient Long Count calendar — a measure of Man’s rising to meet the gods — is beginning to wind down. We are approaching the End Times, the Moment of Cosmic All-change, the point on the ecliptic where the Sun (and the Earth in orbit around it) comes into conjunction with the center of our Galaxy at 11:11 on December solstice 2012.
There are 500 days from Lammas this year to the 10-day prelude to solstitial union with galactic center: on 12:12:12 we shall either have completed planetary ascension or we will know our work has been in vain. I prefer to think we shall complete the program — that we as a species are destined to rise to the challenge facing us.
New Age philosophy and astrology support a path to ascension required of its vision-keepers, lightworkers (through meditation and right living) as a process of uniting these two conflicting polarities, emphasizing the need to bring harmony to the male-female yin-yang, left and right brain hemispheres which must operate before the Earth may return to a balanced state of wholeness and oneness.
Life spiral: 2011 crop circle at Avebury Trusloe July 13th (left) & neolithic carved rock, Argyll c. 3000BC
The serpent, symbolic of Life, seen in the snaking of equinox sunset light down the pyramid of Chichen Itza, is common to many archaic worlds: medical science’s caduceus, Hermes the messenger to the gods, and the Garden of Eden would not be the same without him.
According to the ancient Maya, he rises through the world Ages, culminating with the flowering of human consciousness — NOW. To the Maya in their Long Count calendar, the Cosmos consists of Nine Underworlds or levels of development that complete in 2012. So important to their cosmological measurements were the numbers Nine (levels), Twenty (days, katun) and Thirteen (moons) that these powerful digits were expressed in their most significant monument construction. Mayan pyramids all have nine tiers or platforms.
The twenty-year (katun)cycle is intrinsic in all their calculation.
The longest tun-based time cycle was called the hablatun, each totalling 460,800.000,000 days = 1.26 billion years. Thirteen hablatuns made up the first Underworld (the initial creation cycle, beginning 3114BC) giving a total duration of 13 x 1.26 MM days or 16.4 billion years. This time period of 16.4 billion years is very close to current scientific estimates for the formation of matter from light at the birth of creation, or the ‘Big Bang’.
Each of the nine levels represented a different Underworld — expressed horizontally in the pyramids’ construction. Just as the levels of the pyramids are seen to become progressively smaller as they tier towards the top, so too the amount of time in each Underworld becomes shorter in duration as they progress hierarchically through the calculation.
It is interesting in a lunar calendrical context that this weekend –July 31-August 1– marks the Leo New Moon: a powerful coming-together of celestial forces following on from the Mayan Day-out-of-time, Monday 25 July 2011. And on August 1st we, the human race, walk through the dimensional wormhole and enter the Fifth Day of the Ninth and final Underworld of the Mayan Longcount.
This coincides with Lammas, Celtic quarter day, fire festival of the ancient Britons which was celebrated at the height of Nature’s season of bounty, the middle of the fruiting year when Earth empties her cornucopia into the laps of an unsuspecting world. As the midpoint (in all calendars ancient and modern) between summer solstice, June 21st, and autumn equinox, Septmember 23rd, Lammas —Lughnasad, the festival of light god, Lugh, revered in indigenous harvesting communities in the Old World– marks the point in the celestial sphere where the Sun culminates, arriving at 15 Leo on August 7th, a week from now.
Ancient Brittonic communities marked Lammas as the most joyous of all fire festivals, often feasting and dancing, sharing and giving for three weeks before LAMMAS and three weeks after. During the Neolithic, stone circles were used for such fire festivals, the central floor marked by successive generations of fire-burning, heavily pounding feet which revellers flattened like a remarkably sophisticated dance arena.
Video of West Woodhay Down, Inkpen crop circle July 29th 2011,
thanks to Shumnyabai (Joan Wheaton): Divine Serpent with Neptunian forked tongue and rattler tail reflecting Maya god Kukulkan (Quetzalcoatl), the divine feathered serpent who gives life.
Miniature tufted crop circle appeared in pristine East Field, Alton Barnes on the morning of July 26, 2011, after a night of torrential rain, photo courtesy Bert Janssen
We should use it.
HUMANITY HEALING alert
Humanity Healing Community acts as one of the new world’s wayshowers in suggesting that the arrival of the Lammas/New Moon/Fifth Day is even more potent because as a point in consciousness — it encourages us to choose actively how we want our new world to be.
Roundway(2) pine cone crop circle, July 25, 2011. The human pineal gland is massively affected by sunlight, goes into catatonia if deprived of light
‘What do you Want?
The Universe is asking and waiting for your answer.
The cosmic force of Creation needs you to focus the lens, to get clear on your vision, your dreams, your intent. You can take a giant step forward with whatever you want this weekend when three energetic gateways converge.
There is both an opportunity and a responsibility in this.’
Humanity Healing: A call to focus
Thoughts, intent, actions, emotions are intensified — go quantum — at a time like this. The energetic portal is more than an opportunity given us by our overlighting Presence — Humanity’s Oversoul — it is an instruction. We can each make a difference, add a contribution to the fate of the human race.
This may sound rather dramatic. Actually, it is. This is a time, unprecedented in human history. On the esoteric level, we are told we asked to come and to be here –incarnate– at this time. On the psychic level, we are sensing a coming-together of many traditions, a meeting of minds from many populations and backgrounds. Many spiritual leaders of the world’s diverse faiths are encouraging us –willing us to take the plunge.
Planetary transformation. It’s what Carl Sagan would have called our stepping up to take on the mantle of a Level I civilization. He and Kardashev would have been proud.
Prophecies of indigenous people everywhere point to the times we are going through now as a period of intense purification, a transition from our current cycle to whatever comes next.
Oren Lyons, Faithkeeper of the Turtle Clan of the Onondaga Nation; Chief of the Onondaga Nation Council of Chiefs, Iroquois Confederacy
“So then, what is the message I bring to you today? Is it our common future? It seems to me that we are living in a time of prophecy, a time of definitions and decisions. We are the generation with the responsibilities and the option to choose the the path of life for the future of our children, or the life and path which defies the Laws of Regeneration. Even though you and I are in different boats –you in your boat and we in our canoe — we share the same River of Life: what befalls me, befalls you. And downstream, downstream in this River of Life, our children will pay for our selfishness, for our greed, and for our lack of vision.
“500 years ago, you came to our pristine lands of great forests, rolling plains, crystal clear lakes and streams and rivers. And we have suffered in your quest for God, for Glory, for Gold. But, we have survived. Can we survive another 500 years of ‘sustainable development?’ I don’t think so. Not in the definitions they put ‘sustainable’ in today. I don’t think so. So, reality and the natural law will prevail: The Law of the Seed and Regeneration.
“We can still alter our course. It is NOT too late. We still have options. We need the courage to change our values to the regeneration of our families, the life that surrounds us. Given this opportunity, we can raise ourselves. We must join hands with the rest of Creation and speak of Common Sense, Responsibility, Brotherhood, and PEACE. We must understand that The Law *is* the Seed and only as True Partners can we survive.”
Oren Lyons, Faithkeeper of the Turtle Clan of the Onondaga Nation, and a Chief of the Onondaga Nation Council of Chiefs
All the Prophets said this moment would come. The Hopi say we are the ones we have been waiting for. We are the Bird Tribes, circling and massing, congregating for our shared flight through cyberspace, to reach consciousness, nay, communion with that all-pervasive force of the Universe, call it what you will. We have five hundred days to go. So, are we ready?
Coincidental with the 500-day look ahead, Father Time is presenting us with a seven-day energy window in present time for us to focus our intent. From Ramadan/new moon through Mayan 5 I’x (Gregorian August 3rd,2011 –this week) until August 5th–still to come– we would do well to use this cosmic energetic helper: 5 I’X was to the Maya symbolic of the Force of the Universe and the day of commemoration of the World.
As a springboard from which we step off and project ourselves into the new, Culture has not prepared us for what comes next. No avid scanning of ancient texts, no guru, no world leader, no reincarnation of the Spirit of Delphi or channeled message from Arcturus can prepare us any better than we can ourselves for what may greet us on the other side of this Portal in contemporary Time.
The Human Race has reached the Finish Line. We have to step forward and claim our prize, some call it our birthright, gird our loins and step into the blue yonder.
The energy window is OPEN. Let’s fly together.
What a trip.
©2011 Marian Youngblood
Writer’s Muse and Humanity’s Oversoul
Om, Omega, Oversoul
VERSOUL: that Unity within which every man’s Being is contained and made one with all other; that common heart
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Yesterday was Emerson’s birthday. He and his fellows would have celebrated in style. He and his contemporaries, Henry David Thoreau, Emily Dickinson, Walt Whitman and others of the American Transcendentalist movement, believed in
“The writer (in his ‘right state’) as an expression of Man Thinking; in degenerative state as a parrot of other men’s thinking“.
“It is the essence of poetry to spring, like the Rainbow Daughter of Wonder, from the invisible, to abolish the past, and refuse all history” Emerson, Representative Man
A clergyman, but one whose words are sometimes more Gautama than Goethe, Emerson, 1803-1882, had great fondness for the Oversoul, whom he called the Rainbow Daughter of Wonder.
He was first to concede, however, that she is fickle.
Rainbow Daughter of Wonder
Writers have it hard — they have to maintain focus. Whatever is going on in their own private, particular world, they have a daily obligation, an assignation, to tune in and connect with their Muse.
I speak with especial deference to those writers who blog frequently and find consistently interesting subjects to blog about, without losing touch with their own reality. I am in awe, for instance, of the blogger-author-writer capabilities of The Burrow consortium, who blog far more prodigiously than I and have a composite following of thousands. Their 2011 June writing contest, BuNoWriMo –filled with supportive banter and genuine writerly urgings– is imminent (June 1st). I have featured some of their writerly profiles here in the past — and shall again.
For now, let’s take a look at the science behind the Spirit/Muse: They say that as a writer, all you need is a rhythm –the habit– of making time every day to sit down and write. That the Muse, hovering entity that she is, knowing that you are down there, sitting –plodding sometimes; at others racing ahead with ideas pouring from your fingertips– will take pity and come down and join you.
And then there is the growling anti-Muse: the Musebloc, the Great Doubt. But we won’t go there. I have spent the last month in the arms of Rite R. Bloch. He’s not my favorite companion. I am the first to revel in the relief at the end of the tunnel where light as a chink is merely spied — because at least you know the great black hole of negativity does indeed have an event horizon, a finite edge. The cloud of uncertainty and hesitation is passing. Will soon pass. One can hold one’s head up again.
BuNoWriMo, design by Joris Amerlaan
They say the Oversoul/Muse is energized by positive encouragement. Just like the individual who uses positive affirmation to get out of bed each day, spurring her/himself with thoughts of creating something new, building a world never before imagined; the Oversoul is there –omnipresent– waiting for a chance to pop into our conscious mind and guide us to a more-inspired place.
In Emerson’s sense, then, I may be blogging as the parrot, but I do it with the sincere intent to clear a way for the intellect of one of humanity’s great Men Thinking to come through.
Terence McKenna was a Muse unto himself. Permanently connected to the Oversoul through a lifetime habit of listening to the Voice Within, he had a phenomenal hold on Humanity’s future — and its past. He foresaw the times we live in now –the speeding up of time and all experience; the overwhelming of numbers; the love-hate relationship between science and spirituality; disconnection between Individual and State.
He had himself experienced firsthand the fantasy worlds which the human mind is capable of entering, manipulating, accepting, and reinventing. He had little faith in the machinations of ‘mindless’ men, but he had ultimate belief in the presence of an Entity, an Overbeing/Overmind — his ‘Novelty’ — known to Emerson, Hermann Hesse, Aldous Huxley and Sri Aurobindo as the Oversoul; and to Carl Jung as the Universal Unconscious.
To McKenna it was both Oversoul and Eschaton: it is the Intelligent Design of the Universal Mind.
In his view it has tricks up its sleeve.
McKenna died in 2000, as world population reached the six billion mark. A year before he went to the Great Amusement in the Sky, the ‘altered statesman’ revealed a semi self-deprecating tale of his version of humanity’s love affair with the UFO phenomenon.
Oversoul as Saucer
“There is building in global society an increasingly intense expectation of the intervention into human history by UFOs: that is very similar in tone to the buildup of expectation in the Hellenistic world in the century before the birth of Christ. The leaders of Roman society might have been caught off-guard by the appearance of Christ, but they had no-one to blame but themselves, as millions of people in the ancient world were expectantly awaiting the appearance of some kind of Messiah.
“So today, science and government poo-poo the idea of world contact with UFOs, but the contact cults grow ever larger and more insistent that contact is about to occur.
“Imagine, therefore, what you may never have seriously imagined before: imagine what would happen if UFOs were to appear. Imagine a spaceship of the Close-Encounters-of-the-Third-Kind variety suddenly appearing in orbit around the earth.
“Television and mass media would carry this image to every man, woman and child on the planet. Governments would be paralyzed, science would be helpless to explain where it came from or how it got here.
“Millennarian hysteria would break out everywhere.
“The UFO would be hailed as savior, and denounced as anti-Christ.
The end of the world would appear imminent. And all this would occur before the contact of more than a visual image.
Saucer cult: 'Science would be helpless to explain where it came from or how it got here'
“The second stage would be the ‘teaching’. Telepathically imparted, the specifics of the teaching cannot be anticipated, but they will urge love, voluntary simplicity, concern for one another, renunciation of war, perhaps the renunciation of the destructive application of science. Whatever the teaching, the UFO will promise immense rewards for those who follow them and dire consequences for those who do not. The teaching will be delivered in so poetically-perfect a way, so rich in understanding, and appealing nuances, that no-one will doubt their origin in a being so wise and good –and immensely superior to ourselves.
“The delivery of the teachings will set the stage for the third and last –and most shocking– phase of the revelation: the departure.
“The saucers, promising vaguely to return, will simply disappear.
“The entire process could take less than a month. If this seems a short time, recall that the entire public career of Christ lasted only three years. Christ’s career occurred in a world where information could move no faster than a horse’s gallop. Yet three years in one small part of the world was all that was necessary to launch a world religion that remained vital for 1500 years.
“In a world of electronic communication the impact of the Saucer’s arrival, miracles, teaching and departure would be incalculable, even if it all occurred within a month. The Saucer would leave in its wake a science utterly unable to provide any answers to the important questions the event had brought on. The vast majority of people would be fanatical converts to the teachings of the Saucers and any institution in opposition to those teachings could expect to be swept away almost overnight.
“The departure of the UFO would create a sense of abandonment, the agony of which would be expected to echo in the human psyche for centuries.
“The only panacea would be the religion of the Saucer, the religion left behind. Science would be discredited and soon abandoned in favor of a thousand or more years of exegesis of the Saucerian message.
“Is this not a familiar pattern we see in our lives with events happening right now?”
“What will never be said in the wake of such an event, and so must be said now –while there is still time for all of the above to occur and yet still be deception — of a non-deception designed to save us from our advanced science and infantile efforts, but a deception nevertheless:–
“The Saucer –no matter how alien the theory, no matter how advanced its demonstrations of power– is not a vehicle from some other star system.
‘It is the Oversoul Of Humanity– up to its oldest tricks.’
“If one knows this, one can live through the revelation and the destruction of our scientific world, and thus evade the immense power of this most powerful of all transparent phenomena, and thereby maintain integrity of one’s own soul and spirit.
“Remember, I am not a debunker of flying saucers or a defender of science. I am a contactee and this is the painstakingly-told story of my own involvement with the UFOs. I am one of those pinpointed as being a carrier of ideas that paved the way for the scenario I have just described.”*
Terence McKenna
“Yet, from it all I have learned that there is no religious revelation more satisfying than the hard-won food of simple understanding.
“And there is no liberation to compare with seeing oneself as the illusions and delusions of the Age in which one lives.
*”I reached these conclusions in my encounters with psylocybin and psychedelic plants. They immerse their users in the world of the Oversoul and make one privileged to have reached at least a part of the tectonics of operation.” TM
“They allow a private dialogue with the Oversoul that is outside the context of the struggle between science and revelation –that leaves no choice between the alienation of the rationalist and the pious formulae of the fanatical believers. These mind-expanding substances hold out the possibility of healing the breach between science and morality at the level of the individual, thus freeing one to evolve, independent of the chaos and transformation the UFOs may seem to bring to humanity.” ©TMcKenna
“[UFOs are], in other words, something which in order not to alarm us has disguised itself as an extraterrestrial being, but is in fact the collectivity of the human psyche signaling a profound historical crisis.” ©TMcK
If you thought that was a tale worth telling, McKenna is capable of much, much more. Along the way, you may have watched part one (above) of his great vision from the Oversoul: Storytime story of how we evolved through science. It is a tale of parallel universes. Here is part two.
The Crop Circle Connection
May 4th 2011 crop circle at Barat Cikarang, Java, photo courtesy Nur Agustinus
While this blog was being written, Peruvian television showed footage of a ‘breaking news’ craft in their airspace.
The Sanctuary, Avebury crop image late May in early barley, photo Stuart Dike
Perhaps our communal doubt is being reflected in McKenna’s trickster Oversoul. As he would say, we shall have to wait and see.
©2011 Marian Youngblood
The Stellar Perspective- Time to Tempt Humans to Act like Telosians—Delving Deep Within to Discover our Origins As Star-People
- Canticle for a lost Nation—Pictish Roots Surface in Stone, Royal Forests & Names
- The Janus Effect—Riding into the New on an Old Horse
- Boudicca: Great Queen of the Iceni
- 2020 Backward Take on 2012: Stargate Portal to Final Quarter
- Volcanic Surprise: Take your Toys and Go Home
- 11:11:11 Spark in the Park~ Collective Ascension
- Silver People on the Shoreline Let Us Be
- Event Horizon for the Human Race—Moving Beyond Our Own Boundaries
- Canticle for a Lost Nation—Unlocking Ancient Interlace Woven into Cultural Myth
Solar & Geomagnetic field indicator (NOAA)
From n3kl.orgSolar X-rays:
Geomagnetic Field:
- Derilea’s Dream: Pictish essentials
Shakeout prepared
Picosecond Pulse Ripples Gold on Glass
Vibrational sound in picoseconds
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