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To the tune of “O Canada”
(well, the last four lines, anyway)
(well, kind of)
Justin Trudeau,
what do you know?
Who's got the cutest booty?
Justin Trudeau.
Who's got the cutest booty?
Justin Trudeau.
Joy is sacred, too, you know.
Those of us who grew up surrounded by the fundamentalist Christian concept that humor, laughter, and fun are somehow inherently evil - that the only way it's possible to worship or show reverence is by being deadly serious - sometimes have trouble with the idea that it's OK to laugh as part of our spiritual practice.
...
A Guest Blog by Rudd Rayfield
Ohmigods!
He's turning blue!
Ohmigods!
He's playing a flute!
Ohmigods!
He's surrounded by cows!
(sings)
The Archdruid was dying.
From all over Gaul, druids gathered to his bedside to ease his passage from this world to the next. As they stood around him chanting, a novice brought him a bowl of fresh milk, but the Archdruid refused it.
The novice took the milk to the hearth, warmed it, and stirred in some honey. As he poured the milk back into the bowl, he spied a jar of apple brandy that had been a gift from the local chieftain, and added a goodly amount to the warmed milk-and-honey.
He held the bowl to the lips of the Archdruid, who drank it down to the last drop.
“Old Father, do you have any final words of wisdom to guide us after you have gone Behind the Sunset?” asked a senior druid.
With difficulty, the Archdruid raised himself on his elbow. An otherwordly light shone from his eyes.
Jainism is India's religion of ahimsa (non-harming) par excellence; in fact, it's probably from Jain (that's Jine, not Jane) practice that both Hinduism and Buddhism got their commitment to non-violence and vegetarianism. Jainism is so committed to non-harm that, as with Catharism, it's considered meritorious to starve oneself to death, since to eat necessarily deprives others of life.
(Known as sallekhana, this would seem a pretty harmful act to me—self-harming is still harm, yes?—but, hey, I'm no Jain. In my opinion, the Dharmic religions parted company from their natal paganisms when they became world-denying.)
So deeply rooted is Jain reverence for the sanctity of non-human life that some Jain monks wear face masks constantly, even when they're not wearing anything else (and Jainism is also where Wicca got the term skyclad from), lest they inadvertently inhale some flying insect and so take life.
All this by way of prelude. So, in this Covid-19 Era—you can see where this is going—here's the cartoon that I would draw, if I could draw.
Gods, I love high-context humor.
Street scene, with wall-posters detailing covid protocols, and people wearing facial masks.
At work one morning I'd put Bach's Sixth Brandenburg Concerto—the one without violins—on the sound system. I've always found Bach to pair well with Sunday brunch.
Unfortunately, the disk had a skip in it. The same brief phrase repeated and repeated, playing over and over and over.
As I was crossing the floor to change the disk, the door opened and a customer came in.
When she heard the music, her face lit up. She gave me a radiant smile.
From the liner notes of my 2005 spoken word album, Radio Paganistan: Folktales of the Urban Witches.
Really, one has to wonder just who the speaker is.
Good Samhain, all!
I'll Be Home for Sam Hane
I'll be home for Sam Hane,
you can count on me.
Pumpkins glow on dancing bones
beneath the naked trees.
Hallows Eve will find me
where the hearth-fire's red:
