You might have thought I had been abducted into the Other World.
It has been nearly a year since I posted here. You could well think I have been abducted by fairies. For I have indeed been inhabiting a liminal space....
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In January 2017, two notable orcas died – Granny (also known as J2) and Tilikum. Both lived tragic lives in different ways. Granny, captured and released because of her age, saw the gradual extinction of her pod due to pollution and overfishing. Tilikum, captured as a calf, killed three people arising from his torment at being a performing killer whale. Both animals were the impetus for humans to reconsider the ethics of using animals for entertainment. The result was an ending of orca shows at major marine parks.
All your dreams have died. Welcome to 2017. The last party leftover has long been eaten, you're back to drinking too much wine and watching too much television. You have not set foot in the gym, the sky is grey, there is no end in sight and it will never be spring again.
I can't speak for you, but so far 2017 has been one punch in the box after another. I have a work project that's a complete clusterfuck that I'm fruitlessly trying to spin into gold and failing and in return the project is giving me: no down time whatsoever, an added ten pounds, repetitive stress injuries, flaky scalp and all the zits I want. Not to mention endless exhaustion, frustration and feeling like I am trying to run underwater along with the knowledge that tax season is just about to start so my life is not mine for the next three months anyway. In the background: a thing I'm trying to get together for my book that I can't talk about but goes around and around and likely will end in futility, communication issues at home which, if you haven't had the pleasure of being with someone for nearly ten years, I can tell you at this stage, one of you is always Lucy with the goddamn football (the antagonist!) and the other is always Charlie Brown (the injured party!). I am not at my best at present. 2017 is gaining traction on me and it's hard to put on my best dress and repeatedly outrun it. Still, I try....
Stretching across Asia, from North Manchuria, through Tibet, west through Persia, and ending in the Kurdistan, was a chain of seven towers on isolated mountaintops; and in each one of these towers sat continuously a priest of Satan, who by "broadcasting" occult vibrations controlled the destinies of the world for evil.
William B. Seabrook, Adventures in Arabia
In 1927, gonzo journalist William Seabrook became the first to write about the "Seven Towers of Satan," by which the priesthood of the Yazidis, the People of the Peacock Angel, secretly controlled the world.
So that explains it.
Seabrook's towers were fiction, but hey: a good idea is a good idea.
The Thirteen Towers of the Horned One.
Apologies for the long hiatus in posting here at Broomstix on Pagansquare. Like most folks, I (Natalie) found 2016 to be a bit of a challenging year--in good ways, and... some not so good ways. Many good things happened, for me, particularly, the release of Magical Destinations of the Northeast in October was a high point, but it was bittersweet. I lost several family members and friends in 2016, including two beloved mentors, one of my contributors to Magical Destinations of the Northeast, and my Aunt Vinnie and Uncle John... It seems that everyone has had something last year. LAST, being the operative word.
So here's what's happening at broomstix ♥ The Broomstix Blog at Blogspot is finally being shaped into the archive I envisioned. I'm currently in the process of sorting all of the material by category, and where possible by sabbat and season. Have a look at the TAROT page which features Claire Cunnington's very cool tutorial, illustrated with Robin Ator's Ator Tarot, all together and complete for the first time!...
The ancestors were practical people.
When linguists discovered that, by comparing words from daughter languages, they could reconstruct a vocabulary for a language from some 6000 years ago, predating the invention of writing, they were ecstatic.
In our understanding of the past, archaeological artifacts will take us only so far. To really understand how a culture thinks, we need to know what it says.
To the scholarly world's everlasting disappointment, what we can reconstruct of the Proto-Indo-European language really tells us very little about the ancestors' society, culture, or religion.
What we do know is that they had two words for, shall we say, “breaking wind.”