Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
Grued, or: Ask Before You Take
In Which Our Intrepid Blogger Considers Buying a Human Bone, But Doesn't
“Maxilas and Mandibles.” That was the name of the bone store.
I'm visiting a friend in NYC. “You've got to see this one,” he says, so we go.
The store is long and narrow as a coffin. The bones are beautiful.
“Do you have any human bones?” I ask. It would be cool to have a femur to beat the drum with at Samhain, right?
Right?
Femur in hands, I kneel down on the floor. This was, after all, part of someone's body once. Always ask before you take.
Something's wrong. My heart is pounding, the sweat is pouring off of me. “Where is this from?” I can barely manage to get the words out.
“India, I think,” says the clerk.
Gods. Who knows what the story here is? I rise. I don't want this thing. I don't want it in my house; I don't want it in my city.
“Thanks,” I manage to say, and offload the unclean thing. Thoroughly grued, I can't get out to the open air fast enough.
My friend catches up with me eventually.
Comments
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Friday, 03 June 2022
Maybe when I die, I'll will my femur (the left one, of course) to the temple so that we can beat the drum at Samhain after all.
But you're absolutely right. Bones for sacred work need to be provenanced. -
Saturday, 04 June 2022Mr. Posch,
I think that would be totally OK, for whatever it's worth. -
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Mr. Posch,
Oh my Gods. I would have felt the same way. Human bones do not belong in brick-and-mortar retail stores. Ghastly.
That reminds me of the Chinese corpses that were preserved, dismembered, posed, and sent on international tour by Premier Exhibitions.
I shudder every time I see pictures of them. There is no way that anyone can convince me the paperwork was always 100% legit.