On the other hand ... I still wonder why we pass things down without explanation or (probably more importantly) translation. For example, Maxine was describing the witches’ rune or chant, which I’d never heard of. It was supposedly a method of raising energy in a circle.
“The drumbeat intensified as we chanted the witches’ rune over and over again.
Eko, Eko, Azarak!
Eko, Eko, Zamilak!
Eko, Eko, Karnayna!
Eko, Eko, Aradia!”
Sanders, Maxine, Fire Child, Mandrake of Oxford, 2008 p. 97
She provided no explanation as to what was actually being chanted, which – to my mind anyway – is at best never a good idea, and at worst a possibly dangerous idea. Who or what are we invoking with this? Aradia I knew (I’m Italian, after all, and she’s ours thanks to Charles Leland), but who was Azarak, Zamilak and Karnayna? And what did “Eko, Eko” mean? “Hail, Hail” or “Come right in, have a spot of tea and take over my body!”?
Frighteningly enough, even Doreen Valiente didn’t know what it meant, and she was one of the witches passing it around!
The mention of Aradia made me think we were veering into Latin or Tuscan with this chant, “ecco” (correct spelling) meaning “Here is”, in the sense that you’re either holding up things and saying, “Here is a wand, here is a knife”, or in the sense that we’re welcoming a being into the circle, as in “Here’s Zeus!” I could be wrong (and please correct me if I am), but I think the same word, perhaps spelled differently, means much the same thing in Greek.
But translating “eko” as “ecco” is just an educated guess on my part. And it still didn’t answer the question as to who or what Azarak, Zamilak and Karnayna were. Not in the Encyclopedia of Spirits, or Dictionary of Demons, but I had packed some of the other spirit resources, naturally. In any event, I had no wish to raise energy by chanting a list of names or words unknown to me. The gods alone knew what would happen if I did; I sure had no idea and had no experience yet in banishing things I inadvertently invoked.
Luckily, there’s another version of it, a little less intimidating. Not sure where this one came from, but at least this one is understandable. As it fell off-metre during a few lines, I took the liberty of strengthening the beat:
“Darksome night and shining moon,
Hearken to the Witches' rune;
East, then South and West, then North,
Hear ye! Come! I call ye forth.
Powers--earth, air, fire, sea,
Turn now and come forth to me;
Wand and Pentagram and Sword
Hearken ye unto my word.
Candle, Censer, Cup and Knife,
Waken all ye into life;
Powers of the Witches blade,
Come ye as the charm is made.
Queen of Heaven, Earth, and Hell,
Send your aid unto this spell;
Horned Hunter of the night,
Work my will in magick rite.
By the power three times three
As I will, so mote it be.
By the might of Moon and Sun,
As ye will, it shall be it done.”
Naturally the word “hell” comes with a lot of christian baggage and here means “underworld”, as in Demeter and Persephone, not the one falsely recreated in “Constantine”. (And a gigantic ‘oh, pu-LEEZE’ to that one.) Imagine the other false one created by Carol Markus and her son in “The Wrath of Khan”, located in a huge underground cave. Also invented, but closer to my idea of the pagan underworld, anyway.
Showing posts with label Aradia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Aradia. Show all posts
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Talking to the Dead
First week back at work after my vacation. Nibbling on salsiccia e verde (or salsiccie verde, if you’re mumbling), home-made whole wheat buttermilk biscuits, and sulking. Last Thursday was an infuriating waste of my time, and an embarrassment (for her, not for me – I was merely pissed off) – the dumb broad didn’t "psychically divine" anything until it was fed to her, and by the end of the session I was feeding her ridiculous amounts of crap just to see what brilliant "psychic message" she could come up with. A fraud, basically. And I’m still dragging my feet on going to Salem to meet with one of the other witches in October, and so probably won’t.
Talking to the Dead
She can talk to the dead, she says. "I sweah, I sweah."
I suspect a surfeit of bullshit in this claim
as she follows my leaders through lightening and rain,
claims her hair stands on end from souls’ fire in ether.
At last I feed her crumbs of invention, and there
she nibbles and extends her neck while I exclaim
"You knew that he was a stock broker!" An insane
vision of him rises, smug, at the haberdasher.
She was right about one thing, he stood behind me.
I could hear him, rattling his tool belt, toeing
gravel with his side-slipped boots and wheezing
with laughter. But he did not speak to me. I need
his forgiveness, but he is not forthcoming now, freezing
the lips of a fraud while facing eternity.
©Snake’s Trail, 2012. All rights reserved
Damien’s excitement about Lammas is actually sort of infectious. I wasn’t planning to start thinking about it until probably ... oh, I don’t know, the day before ... so for once I’m actually preparing for it. I also found two curiosities: a book on Italian witchcraft, with references to a source that pre-dates Gardner, and a symbol.
Naturally, the authenticity of the pre-Gardnerian, turn of the century Gospel of the Witches is disputed, but what caught my attention was the name for the harvest celebration, "cornucopia". What popped out of my memory was one of the very few disagreements I ever remember witnessing, when I was very young, between my mother and grandmother, and the disagreement was over that particular word. My mother saying, "It’s a gourd, filled with fruits and vegetables", and my grandmother saying, "No it isn’t, it’s a feast." (or festa, I can’t remember which word she used). My mother – from whom I probably inherited my godawful stubbornness - got up and pulled out a dictionary. I assume she looked up "cornucopia" and found a graphic of the usual image everyone envisions when they hear the word. My grandmother waved her hand in dismissal and snapped. "I don’t care what your book says, it’s a festa." And I remember my mother looking hurt when she did it. Ahhh, ancient family drama.
Now, I’m not trying to say my grandmother and mother were practioners of the Old Religion. Hardly. But I was reminded of that disagreement when I opened Raven Grimassi’s Italian Witchcraft, and found that Cornucopia, in Italy, is something like a sabbat at the end of August, a feast between the May celebration and the first Harvest. A festa, just as my grandmother insisted. The thing was, my grandmother never grew up in Italy – it was her mother or grandmother who emigrated to Michigan from the Veneto with her family, when SHE was a girl, before the unification of Italy - I sat there with the book, trying to figure out if Cornucopia was actually celebrated in the Veneto ... by Catholics. Because I’m pretty sure they went waaaaay back as Catholics. Or perhaps they were both, and just kept the witchiness part pretty much under wraps.
" ... the charm of the forbidden is very great, and witchcraft, like the truffle, grows best and has its raciest flavor, when most deeply hidden."
Leland, Charles Godfrey, Aradia, Gospel of the Witches of Italy, London, 1899, David Nutt, publisher, 270-71 Strand, p. vi
I looked up the nearest farmer’s market and learned we actually have one here, on Saturdays, and looked up corn bread recipes – which could run the gamut from bread with corn in it, bread made out of corn meal, or corn fritters – all a form of corn bread. Trying to decide on the Lammas Feast which is actually fun! Since August 1st is a Wednesday, I’m going to celebrate Lammas on the 4th.
In ancient Egypt, we’d be ... what? ... about a month away from the Inundation: the rising of the Nile, the inundation of farmlands, preparing them for planting. Priests would be preparing for community prayers for a perfect inundation – enough to fertilize the land, not so much it flooded everyone out of house and home and brought plague and disease. In Europe, we’d be awaiting the first grain harvest. Lammas. Same with the Americas, but here in the Americas we’d be watching the corn.
The corn. Place hand over heart, lift eyes to the heavens and all together now: "ahhhh...!" Greatest grain ever. Listening to Clinton J. Miller’s "Return to Mother Corn" off his Rez Boy album. I should find more odes to corn songs. Anyone know any Corn Maiden songs? I did learn a song back in the Enchantments days, although I have no idea who composed it. That song was "Hail to Koré", although one of the lines was, "Hail Corn Maiden, lady of the fields", so that probably counts as a Corn maiden song. Take note that no agrarian society has ever identified corn deities as male. Only one organization is that retarded: The Whole Grains Council – out of Boston, of course! I’m in favor of almost anyone who promotes corn ... unless they’re so obsessed with their own phalli they identify the grain as "King Corn"!
Wednesday of last week was the birthday of Nephthys (the sister of Isis) – recognizable for the two items she usually has on her head: a temple (or a column of a temple; sometimes a structure that looks like a house), and a basket. I’m not quite sure what the basket represented, unless it was to collect body parts: in addition to being Goddess of the Temple, she also accompanied Isis in her search for Osiris.
Another thing I liked about her was a certain similarity to Sekhmet: "Nephthys is sometimes featured as a rather ferocious and dangerous divinity, capable of incinerating the enemies of the Pharaoh with her fiery breath." She is also a deity you could celebrate with beer ... that is, if you happened to like beer, which I don’t, unless it’s in a batter you can use to fry things, like fish. But I wonder if she’d appreciate other forms of grain alcohol that didn’t actually contain hops.
Photo, left: Nephthys- Musée du Louvre, Paris, France
According to the Pyramid Texts, Nephthys, along with Isis, was "a force before whom demons trembled in fear, and whose magical spells were necessary for navigating the various levels of Duat, as the region of the afterlife was termed."
So here we have a tri-fold power in place for the week’s activities: the dark moon, Nepthys, Sekhmet. Damien’s tweet about red wine for the dark moon taken to heart, at least. Last Thursday was the new moon.
Damien, for some reason, tweeted from Brooklyn last week (I have no idea why), before leaving for New Zealand. He was contentedly listening to Frank Sinatra and eating fried chicken. I would be more than OK if he moved there instead of Salem. Not saying that would be best for HIM, but I would sure be fine with it. I will always feel he’s safer in New York. Hell, I always feel safer in New York! But no, he’s tweeting about his days in New York being numbered and his upcoming move to Massachusetts. Damien!!! You can’t buy bolines here! You’re better off in New York if you want a boline or an athame!! (So whineth the native and homesick New Yorker). (*sigh*)
Back to Nephthys. For my purposes, she was also considered the unique protectress of the Sacred Phoenix, or the Bennu Bird. From The Book of the Dead, "I am the Bennu bird, the Heart-Soul of Ra, the Guide of the Gods to the Duat." Sekhmet being the eye of Ra, the Bennu Bird being the heart-soul of Ra; Ra is astoundingly well represented today, which strikes me as fortunate. Not to mention the incredible solar flares going on recently.
As far as I can tell, they really haven’t impacted me – all of my electronic equipment has been working just fine, and the only interruption to my cable viewing was a tornado warning recently, which utterly freaked me out. A tornado WARNING? In Massachusetts? Obviously, nothing beyond a thunderstorm to the south of me happened after that, noticeable only by the sound of distant thunder and a light drizzle.
Talking to the Dead
She can talk to the dead, she says. "I sweah, I sweah."
I suspect a surfeit of bullshit in this claim
as she follows my leaders through lightening and rain,
claims her hair stands on end from souls’ fire in ether.
At last I feed her crumbs of invention, and there
she nibbles and extends her neck while I exclaim
"You knew that he was a stock broker!" An insane
vision of him rises, smug, at the haberdasher.
She was right about one thing, he stood behind me.
I could hear him, rattling his tool belt, toeing
gravel with his side-slipped boots and wheezing
with laughter. But he did not speak to me. I need
his forgiveness, but he is not forthcoming now, freezing
the lips of a fraud while facing eternity.
©Snake’s Trail, 2012. All rights reserved
Damien’s excitement about Lammas is actually sort of infectious. I wasn’t planning to start thinking about it until probably ... oh, I don’t know, the day before ... so for once I’m actually preparing for it. I also found two curiosities: a book on Italian witchcraft, with references to a source that pre-dates Gardner, and a symbol.
Naturally, the authenticity of the pre-Gardnerian, turn of the century Gospel of the Witches is disputed, but what caught my attention was the name for the harvest celebration, "cornucopia". What popped out of my memory was one of the very few disagreements I ever remember witnessing, when I was very young, between my mother and grandmother, and the disagreement was over that particular word. My mother saying, "It’s a gourd, filled with fruits and vegetables", and my grandmother saying, "No it isn’t, it’s a feast." (or festa, I can’t remember which word she used). My mother – from whom I probably inherited my godawful stubbornness - got up and pulled out a dictionary. I assume she looked up "cornucopia" and found a graphic of the usual image everyone envisions when they hear the word. My grandmother waved her hand in dismissal and snapped. "I don’t care what your book says, it’s a festa." And I remember my mother looking hurt when she did it. Ahhh, ancient family drama.
Now, I’m not trying to say my grandmother and mother were practioners of the Old Religion. Hardly. But I was reminded of that disagreement when I opened Raven Grimassi’s Italian Witchcraft, and found that Cornucopia, in Italy, is something like a sabbat at the end of August, a feast between the May celebration and the first Harvest. A festa, just as my grandmother insisted. The thing was, my grandmother never grew up in Italy – it was her mother or grandmother who emigrated to Michigan from the Veneto with her family, when SHE was a girl, before the unification of Italy - I sat there with the book, trying to figure out if Cornucopia was actually celebrated in the Veneto ... by Catholics. Because I’m pretty sure they went waaaaay back as Catholics. Or perhaps they were both, and just kept the witchiness part pretty much under wraps.
" ... the charm of the forbidden is very great, and witchcraft, like the truffle, grows best and has its raciest flavor, when most deeply hidden."
Leland, Charles Godfrey, Aradia, Gospel of the Witches of Italy, London, 1899, David Nutt, publisher, 270-71 Strand, p. vi
I looked up the nearest farmer’s market and learned we actually have one here, on Saturdays, and looked up corn bread recipes – which could run the gamut from bread with corn in it, bread made out of corn meal, or corn fritters – all a form of corn bread. Trying to decide on the Lammas Feast which is actually fun! Since August 1st is a Wednesday, I’m going to celebrate Lammas on the 4th.
In ancient Egypt, we’d be ... what? ... about a month away from the Inundation: the rising of the Nile, the inundation of farmlands, preparing them for planting. Priests would be preparing for community prayers for a perfect inundation – enough to fertilize the land, not so much it flooded everyone out of house and home and brought plague and disease. In Europe, we’d be awaiting the first grain harvest. Lammas. Same with the Americas, but here in the Americas we’d be watching the corn.
The corn. Place hand over heart, lift eyes to the heavens and all together now: "ahhhh...!" Greatest grain ever. Listening to Clinton J. Miller’s "Return to Mother Corn" off his Rez Boy album. I should find more odes to corn songs. Anyone know any Corn Maiden songs? I did learn a song back in the Enchantments days, although I have no idea who composed it. That song was "Hail to Koré", although one of the lines was, "Hail Corn Maiden, lady of the fields", so that probably counts as a Corn maiden song. Take note that no agrarian society has ever identified corn deities as male. Only one organization is that retarded: The Whole Grains Council – out of Boston, of course! I’m in favor of almost anyone who promotes corn ... unless they’re so obsessed with their own phalli they identify the grain as "King Corn"!
Wednesday of last week was the birthday of Nephthys (the sister of Isis) – recognizable for the two items she usually has on her head: a temple (or a column of a temple; sometimes a structure that looks like a house), and a basket. I’m not quite sure what the basket represented, unless it was to collect body parts: in addition to being Goddess of the Temple, she also accompanied Isis in her search for Osiris.
Another thing I liked about her was a certain similarity to Sekhmet: "Nephthys is sometimes featured as a rather ferocious and dangerous divinity, capable of incinerating the enemies of the Pharaoh with her fiery breath." She is also a deity you could celebrate with beer ... that is, if you happened to like beer, which I don’t, unless it’s in a batter you can use to fry things, like fish. But I wonder if she’d appreciate other forms of grain alcohol that didn’t actually contain hops.Photo, left: Nephthys- Musée du Louvre, Paris, France
According to the Pyramid Texts, Nephthys, along with Isis, was "a force before whom demons trembled in fear, and whose magical spells were necessary for navigating the various levels of Duat, as the region of the afterlife was termed."
So here we have a tri-fold power in place for the week’s activities: the dark moon, Nepthys, Sekhmet. Damien’s tweet about red wine for the dark moon taken to heart, at least. Last Thursday was the new moon.
Damien, for some reason, tweeted from Brooklyn last week (I have no idea why), before leaving for New Zealand. He was contentedly listening to Frank Sinatra and eating fried chicken. I would be more than OK if he moved there instead of Salem. Not saying that would be best for HIM, but I would sure be fine with it. I will always feel he’s safer in New York. Hell, I always feel safer in New York! But no, he’s tweeting about his days in New York being numbered and his upcoming move to Massachusetts. Damien!!! You can’t buy bolines here! You’re better off in New York if you want a boline or an athame!! (So whineth the native and homesick New Yorker). (*sigh*)
Back to Nephthys. For my purposes, she was also considered the unique protectress of the Sacred Phoenix, or the Bennu Bird. From The Book of the Dead, "I am the Bennu bird, the Heart-Soul of Ra, the Guide of the Gods to the Duat." Sekhmet being the eye of Ra, the Bennu Bird being the heart-soul of Ra; Ra is astoundingly well represented today, which strikes me as fortunate. Not to mention the incredible solar flares going on recently.
As far as I can tell, they really haven’t impacted me – all of my electronic equipment has been working just fine, and the only interruption to my cable viewing was a tornado warning recently, which utterly freaked me out. A tornado WARNING? In Massachusetts? Obviously, nothing beyond a thunderstorm to the south of me happened after that, noticeable only by the sound of distant thunder and a light drizzle.
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