Culture Blogs


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Culture Blogs

Popular subjects in contemporary Pagan culture and practice.

Category contains 2 blog entries contributed to teamblogs

Posted by on in Culture Blogs
Groundhog He Say

Minneapolis, Groundhog's Day 2016. It's a snow sky, sunless and white: there's a big blizzard coming.

Thank Goddess.

If you've ever wandered where the song-and-dance routine about the groundhog and his shadow comes from, it's a naturalized American version of some old European folk meteorology.

February 2 marks the mid-point of winter, and supposedly the hibernating animals come out of their hibernacula to reconnoiter. No groundhogs in Europe, so other animals do the job: bears, marmots, hedgehogs.

Traditional weather lore has lots of examples of days whose weather is said to portend what's coming. “If it's sunny on St. Whoozit's Day, the Sun will shine for the next 40 days.” Interestingly, Candlemas Day is the lone example when bad—cloudy—weather portends good weather coming. A cloudy Candlemas predicts only 6 more weeks of winter. (Which brings us, roughly, to the Equinox.) If it's sunny and clear instead, winter will last longer.

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Recent Comments - Show all comments
  • Anthony Gresham
    Anthony Gresham says #
    It is nice, but when my family moved back to Richmond in the 70's they didn't bloom until the last week of February/first week of
  • Steven Posch
    Steven Posch says #
    Wish I were a cartoonist, Anthony: I'd like to see that one myself. Around here we won't be seeing crocus or maple flowers for (go
  • Anthony Gresham
    Anthony Gresham says #
    For some reason I carry the image in my mind of a giant groundhog reaching 12 feet high as it sits on its hind legs wearing a crow

Posted by on in Culture Blogs
Greenface

No, we don't worship Satan. No, we don't practice human sacrifice. No, we don't eat babies.

Gods. Is there anything more boring than Wiccans being earnest?

Give me satire over earnestness any day of the moon. The stereotypes are a tool, up there with wands and athames, handed to us on a silver pentacle.

Back when, here in Paganistan, the Besom Brigade used to show up at the Heart of the Beast May Day Parade, black steeple hats and all, doing their precision broom drills down the middle of Bloomington Avenue while chanting cadences about eating children.

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Recent Comments - Show all comments
  • Steven Posch
    Steven Posch says #
    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6xvVX2saeBo
  • Anthony Gresham
    Anthony Gresham says #
    Is that Besom Brigade on youtube by any chance? I would love to see them in action.

Posted by on in Culture Blogs

The Handmaid's TaleThe Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Two days and one hundred years ago, women first achieved the right to vote in Canada. This was in the Manitoba provincial election; the federal government followed two years later. So it is perhaps fitting that the day before is the day I finally chose to start reading "The Handmaid's Tale."

I've been a feminist and a science fiction fan since childhood, so many people have recommended this book to me over the years. The year it was published, 1986, I was eleven. I think someone first recommended it to me in 1991, when I was protesting the Gulf War. I always meant to read it. It was "on my list," especially as a Canadian. Margaret Atwood is considered to be one of the most significant Canadian writers and "The Handmaid's Tale" is a feminist icon.

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs
Bridey's Spring

Well, here it is, right on cue: Bridey's Spring. What cowans call the “January thaw.”

Winter started off gently—the lakes didn't ice over until well after Yule—but we did endure a foul run of sub-zero highs in mid-January, just to remind us who's boss.

Then, just as we prepare to light the untamed torches of Imbolc (or what novelist Richard Grant calls “the mannerly votives of Candlemas”), it might as well be spring. The air is moist and fragrant, and oh that delicious music of dripping water.

Like Indian Summer, Bridey's Spring has its own painful beauty, that fleeting Yukio Mishima poignancy of the necessarily ephemeral.

Winter will be back soon enough. There's plenty more ice and snow in store.

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs
A Tale of Treasuries and Paypals

 

 

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You Can't Always Get What You Want: A Glamour Practical

Sometimes it seems like we're all living in some kind of a prison and the crime is how much we hate ourselves.  It's good to get really dressed up once in a while and admit the truth: That when you really look closely?  People are so strange and so complicated that they're actually. . . beautiful.  Possibly even me." - My So-Called Life, inscribed into my birthday card by my sister (who never watched the show but always knows the right thing to say to me)   

I had been snowed out on my birthday before.  I scolded myself for being self indulgent enough to even have birthday parties still, but really it's the one time of year almost everyone comes out of the woodwork for some reason and I cook my best things and make my best cordials and I think, this is what it means to be happy, just as long as we're together.  I can hold onto these memories for the rest of the year and as the year goes on, all my petty grievances about the day will melt away and I will simply remember music and laughter and be reassured that we can all still pull it together even if it's just for a night.

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs
Sun Wheel

It's one of our people's oldest and most sacred symbols.

If anything could lay claim to the status of "universal pagan symbol," this might well be it.

Yet in Pagandom at large, they're few and far between.

The Sun Wheel. The Sun Cross. The Wheel Cross.

The equal-armed cross in a circle. It's the Sun. It's the Wheel. It's the coincidence of harmonious opposites. Male and female. Rounded and straight. Rectilinear and curvilinear. Up and down. Horizontal and vertical. Movement and stillness. Technology and Nature. Heaven and Earth.

In the Sun Wheel, Time and Space meet and embrace: the world with its four quarters, the year with its four seasons.

Such a deep and ancient symbol. Wherever has it gone?

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