#are the same in scottish proverbs?

[sweetslemon]

misogyny in linguistics

everything containing “ 女 “ (female) in chinese character etymology means something negative, cunning, devious, dark, or to indicate a servant. studying and knowing all those characters sickens me to the core. confuscianism furthered this in east asia weakening women’s rights - before confuscianism, korean dynasties had female kings and some property rights. 

though we often use different chinese characters in each cases, china - korea - japan 

screenshots source

the origin of the “female” character is a woman kneeling 

in other explanations in confuscian texts, it says it is an image of a person kneeling with their neck in a pillory

on the contrary, the letters for “man”  男 is a person with the power  力 to  feed 10  十 (shi) 口 (gou) mouths= family

Wife as housemaid

a woman outside a home(under her husband) is not safe

women with other women are always plotting

a man is allowed to have multiple wives, especially if she does not bear children: but he does not generally need justification. a women should never be jealous, jealousy (contains chinese character for female) is one of the 7 sins that husbands could banish, or beat their wives for

women + hands = servant

add fire onto the mix of the same characters of “servant”, you got “anger”

a lot of negative emotions in chinese characters are associated with symbols of women

“Power” : women subjugated under a weapon

fraught mentions of female inferiority

남존여비 is a word often brought up in korean culture, as in males are precious and respectable “ 尊 ” and females are inferior by birth “  卑 “ . Men are high, women are low. Gentlemen comes first

https://bild-lida.ca/educationalsociolinguistics/uncategorized/womens-oppression-and-chinese-characters/

嫌 for extreme “hate” = women 

adultery =  dark cunning thing that women do

not all chinese characters with “women” have bad meanings! Some have positive meanings soch as detailing women’s looks or her docility

there are few if not zero chinese characters with  the male “ 男 “ used inside a character contrary to the female “ 女 “ as a descriptor. 

[sgiandubh]

Charities and politics: the thin, red line

When you are a proven impostor and idiot and still you insist, it's time to remind you a simple Roman proverb: errare humanum est, perseverare diabolicum. In other, English, words: to err is human, but to persist is diabolical.

Or supremely stupid: your pick, Max.

This page is not into politics at all - and I explained why: this is a very familiar terrain to this blogger, who'd really like to enjoy her daily time off that particular kind of madding crowd. However, from time to time, reality manages to pierce the veil, such as today, when news of Humza Yousaf stepping down as Scottish First Minister made worldwide headlines - just a basic example: https://www.nytimes.com/2024/04/29/world/europe/scotland-humza-yousaf-resigns-snp.html

That does not mean that the whole Cabinet is bound to resign, unless next Wednesday's debate on a non confidence vote promoted by Scottish Labour is lost. By the way, non-Scottish Max.

Never mind Max very recently amused me to no tomorrow, with her color blind, non-European view of Scottish politics (and politics, in general). Never mind she wrote enormous things like the SNP and Greens being politically opposed Scottish parties, just because of Yousaf's recent horrible blunder kicking the Scottish Greens out of his coalition cabinet and trying to keep the steer of a minority SNP cabinet. The SNP & Scottish Greens coalition partnership is very likely to resume as soon as John Swinney (or perhaps Kate Forbes, but my money is not on her, for many reasons: too divisive, too close to elections, etc) is hastily anointed First Minister (https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2024/apr/29/snp-looks-to-unity-candidate-after-humza-yousaf-quits-as-first-minister). No Scottish person, living anywhere else than under a rock, would have aligned this intergalactic bullshit with such confidence and such bad syntax:

Angus Robertson is a shrewd politician. He needed to be seen doing exactly that, yesterday night: showing off at an event hosted by S, once a very vocal support of the Scottish Greens. Here is why, according to normal people, like the Guardian's Scottish Politics team:

[Source: https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2024/apr/29/snp-looks-to-unity-candidate-after-humza-yousaf-quits-as-first-minister]

How old is Max, anyways? Where do they live? I won't add insult to injury, but boy do they seem to write from an ever more far-flung corner of the world than me, and my money is on South America, for many reasons I will not develop here. I chose to be merciful, tonight.

Tonight, she comes back with a renewed batch of freshly half-baked ineptitude:

Please ignore the hideous word salad the two first sentences are. Google Translate would have done better. Who dunnit? Alexa, in the kitchen, with Colonel Mustard? Let's focus on the Big, Fat Lie, here:

'Any participation in events involving charities must be independent and must not support or be endorsed by any political party or be associated with any candidate or politician.'

This is simply not true. If that were to be true, on this planet, or at least in the UK or Scotland, we would never have any NGOs actively lobbying politicians, hosting debates with them or petitioning them on various issues ranging from road safety to global warming.

I will refer the definitely non-Scottish blogger Maximum Wobbling Bullshit to the official factsheet on this very topic, issued by the OSCR, the Scottish Charity Regulator (https://www.oscr.org.uk/media/2899/v14_faqs-charities-and-campaigning-on-political-issues.pdf):

The above rule is limited to the case of election campaigns, as it is logical to be, since a husting simply is another way to call a campaign meeting. There was no campaign related anything yesterday night, the comments were simply about a Scottish national policy that is anything but political (promote Scottish tourism!), Angus Robertson is not a candidate to be Scotland's next First Minister. And same goes for the WWF and Blood Cancer UK - if you think those people went to that gala without a mandate from their NGO Board, you are: a) 5; b) delusional; c) a foul-mouthed troll.

Anyways, to go to the bottom of it, I also looked in the Scottish Charity Register - because you never know what those people might come up with, again:

As I think we all know, MPC is a registered US Limited Liability Company (LLC), based in Delaware. Its California branch is now closed, but the Nevada one was still active, one hour ago, when I checked:

And in case you are still wondering, after all these years, about MPC's legal status, here is their legally impeccable FAQ answer to the people who subscribe and who would legitimately want to know where their money goes, after all:

An LLC is a relatively recent (1970s) hybrid type of legal entity, equivalent perhaps (give or take a couple of technicalities) to the UK's PLC. In my professional view, it offers the best legal framework for what S tried to achieve with it, allowing both for management flexibility and tax transparency. If MPC does not present itself as a charity, it has the entire right to do so and is, therefore, not a charity, from a legal point of view, unless otherwise successfully contended in court.

You are still an idiot and a liar, though.

PS: S has not shared Robertson's X message on his own socials. Just so you know, MAX. [Later edit: extensively quoting The Scottish Daily Express, the Scottish edition of The Daily Express, a notorious UKIP/Farage supporting media outlet, hate speech condemned by the UN High Commissioner on Human Rights, just tells me once more time what a color blind impostor you are, Max.]

[scotianostra]

July 4th used to be called St Martin of Bullion’s Day, the verse goes…..

Bullion’s Day, gif ye be fair, For forty days ‘twill rain nae mair.

In Scotland, this used to be called St Martin of Bullion’s Day, and the weather which prevailed upon it was supposed to have a prophetic character. It was a proverb, that if the deer rise dry and lie down dry on Bullion’s Day, it was a sign there would be a good gose-harvest – gose being a term for the latter end of summer; hence gose-harvest was an early harvest. It was believed generally over Europe that rain on this day betokened wet weather for the twenty ensuing days.

St. Martin’s day was known on Donside as “Martin Bulg’s Day”; in the Buchan district of Aberdeenshire it is called “Marcabillin’s Day”.

The day is in honour of the translation of the saint’s body to a shrine in the cathedral of Tours and probably came over to Scotland when the Normans arrived.

There are traces of both Martin and Bullion in Scottish topography. In Perthshire there is the parish of St. Martin’s, containing the estate of St. Martin’s Abbey. Some miles to the east is Strathmartin in Forfarshire and not far from it in the same county we find Bullionfield, in the parish of Liff and Benvie. It is probable that these names are in some way connected together.

In most respects, St Martin of Bullion’s Day, is very much like St. Swithun’s Day, which is only 8 days away.

The pic shows the ruins of St. Martin’s Kirk in Haddington

[unsleepingtales]

Ravening War Reactions Ep. 2!

Here we goooooo (said like Peter Pan)

Every time I remember that Colin has 6 charisma I giggle a little bit

Lou mentioned something to do with Scottish history and Brennan immediately went to Thinking Face (tm) and this is part of why I’m so excited that they’re in the same camera shot this season

Commendable 🥲

Anjali has Strong lettuce opinions and honestly? I respect it.

“Trust is bad” seems to be the motto of the season so far

BRENNAN

No one wants to trust that sneaky little radish. Unfortunately the dice deem they must.

Raphaniel has major dirt on Allium, noted.

God the name being the FDA is so fucking good.

Raphaniel has a cork board covered in red yarn and you cannot convince me otherwise

I know he’s being sneaky and suspicious etc but I’m happy that the bishop is taking care of Karna

Come on provolone! Little cheese knight!

Ooh my girl’s got demons!

“A chess piece… or at least the head of one” TERRIFYING THANKS BABE

He’s a hero. Vegetania doesn’t need heroes.

I wanna know where he goes when he thinks too tbh

Bulbian religion is fascinating to me

Colin who are you I desperately want to know

Oh she’s just murdering them okie dokie

OH that’s straight up self mutilation. Ok. Okokok.

He sneakyyyy

Raphaniel shut up they are onto you I don’t care how well Brennan rolls

Colin Provolone: big abstinence guy?

Boy what are you t a l k i n g a b o u t

“I feel bonded” “Well good luck with that” babe WHAT

Ohohohoh I do not like that language. That is fucking creepy. Nope.

A language we haven’t heard her speak before but very carefully not specifying what language it is

Child????

Amangeaux child???

Oh god that’s gonna kill me

Colin is good at his job. He IS.

Tiny chili pepper crush aaaaaaaaa

Colin <3

Making enemies: one way to know you’re on the right path!

Brennan is too good at bullshitting proverbs

A QUICHE????

Is he actually cool or is he another Johnny Spells

Raphaniel you are talking about this too knowledgeably for a man of your station. Take it down a notch.

He has Plans. He’s good at his Job.

Gross

Bishop kinda wingmanning for Karna?

Bishop stay away from the cheese man I need him to be ok

The DOME

Ooooh board games :D

NoT mUcH oF a SeCrEtS gUy yeah right ok sure bb

Karna dreamily asking about Deli’s murderous past & Raphaniel getting overwhelmed by the horny energy

Amangeaux surrogate mothering for Karna is giving me emotions

Karna! My love my light! Whatcha doin honey!

Mans kicked off a world war but he’s the guy with the hat.

Something they had in common 🥲

She can do magic but everyone needs to be so chill about it. No one say anything ok. She’s fine.

This feels like a little more than baseline trust tbh

What does a frazzled tomato look like

Oh Matt’s gory description skills are on point

Karnaaaaaa I know it’s your job but that is a child.

On the one hand I am very happy for her and glad she’s doing well for herself. On the other. Tiny child has been found out and reported.

Dome!!

Preview reactions:

*chanting* BATTLE SET! BATTLE SET!

Miniiiiiiiis

God Aabria’s makeup fucks so hard

[rob-nobody]

asjdhkfgjk, I'm sorry, but this is one of my pet peeves. As fun as it is to think that many of our sayings and proverbs were originally a lot more subversive than their common interpretation, it often just isn't true.

"The customer is always right" was popularized by Selfridge, but versions were used by retail magnate Marshall Field and hotelier César Ritz before him. None of them qualified it with anything like "...in matters of taste" anywhere I can find. Now, maybe it was implied that's what they meant rather than "Give the customer 90% off if they ask for it," but it wasn't explicitly part of the original saying.

"Jack of all trades" goes back at least to Geffray Minshall in 1612, though the similar "Johannes factotum (Johnny do-it-all)" was used in the 1500s (hilariously used in 1592 by English writer Robert Greene to disparagingly describe this upstart young playwright, William Shakespeare.) "...and master of none" was added in the 1700s, with the first known usage by Charles Lucas in a 1741 letter. Near as I can tell, "...but ofttimes better than a master of one" was added circa 2007.

"Blood is thicker than water," in that form and with the conventional meaning, dates back to at least 1652, where it was used in a sermon by William Jenkyn, and the way it's used makes it clear it was a known expression at the time that he was merely quoting. It appears frequently in 18th and 19th-century literature, particularly Scottish literature. The "covenant/womb" version comes from the Messianic Rabbi Richard Pustelniak in 1994, who claims that was the original meaning without citing any sources.

"Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery" dates back to at least 1820, when Charles Colton wrote in his book of proverbs "Imitation is the sincerest of flattery," while the idea goes back to at least a 1714 newspaper article by Eustace Budgell, where he says "Imitation is a kind of artless Flattery." ("Artless," here, meaning "unintentional, and thus pure and sincere.") The version that adds "...that mediocrity can pay to greatness" is attributed to Oscar Wilde (1854-1900), though searching through his works on Project Gutenberg doesn't turn up an actual source, so grain of salt. Regardless, at best this version was a later commentary on the original sentiment.

On the other hand, "The love of money is the root of all evil" IS indeed the original version of the saying, coming from the 1611 King James Bible, 1 Timothy 6:10. "To pull oneself up by one's bootstraps" DID also originally mean a ludicrous or impossible task, dating back to at least 1834 (though the original version specifically referred to carrying oneself over a river or a fence by one's own bootstraps, the meaning is clearly the same.)

[astronomyandfrogs]

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐃𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓.

or, a five hundred-ish fic about the way the doctor’s prime characteristic is compassion and values and not his physical features.

a chinese proverb states 'the wise adapt themselves to circumstances, as water moulds itself to the pitcher' which, let me tell you, it's easier to say then to do.

the first change she had to adapt to was her parents divorce. her whole world crumbled when she found out, given that for a kid - she wasn't even ten at the time - mommy and daddy are at the center of everything.

from what looked like marriage bliss, y/n had to travel from one side of the other of her city just the see her father on the week end. to make her even more confused there was this other woman at her father's place that lived with him, like a roommate.

if he still wanted a roommate, he could have stayed with me and mommy. that was ten years old y/n most current thought.

almost a decade later, after hiring about her friends stories or the traumatic experiences that people shared on social, she grateful for the decision her parents took years before.

the second alteration in her life was living in a different city. in a whole different country than the one she used to.

when one of the most prestigious law firms called her for an interview she was ecstatic. when she got the job, she was downright crying.

the third adjustment was loving a man hardly even recognised anymore. which is a euphemism considering the fact that not only a big portion of his personality was changed, but also his entire face. take that for a change.

before he had an british accent, now a scottish accent.

before he had straight brown hair, now he gray and messy.

before he looked young, now he looked old.

she hated herself for a very long time for this vast list of discrepancies she came up with in her mind and that made her think - why am I still attached to this man who i think has nothing to do with his previous regeneration?

seventy hours later or so she had her answer. the doctor dropped in her living room in the blue box with a cup of coffee as usual. as she thanked him, her eyes met his and she almost laughed for her past weeks idiocy.

if one asked her what happened in that moment she would have just shudder because not a word in the english dictionary was meaningful or complex enough to explain her feeling - and would still do the same year later, when that man turned into a woman.

but a poet or an author, which both case she wasn't, would have said that this new found clearness in her mind was due to a wind wave that carried away all those thoughts that were damaging and created space for innocuous ones.

one of them being the fixation of his eyes. they hadn't changed. their color was a tap more blue-ish, but they didn't change in their form. they still shone with that particular spark of kindness and compassion that always dictated his morals and principles.

those were the eyes of a nearly two thousand years old man.

[coinandcandle]

Imbolc/Imbolg

You may not be feeling a spring in your step due to the winter blues, hopefully this ancient holiday can fix that!

Let's learn about Imbolc!

(photo cred: 2sometravel)

What is Imbolc?

Imbolc is an ancient Gaelic holiday and one of the four seasonal festivals of the ancient Gaels and is held generally on February 1st. (August 1st in the Southern Hemisphere!)

This holiday is said to represent the beginning of spring and is in between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. Imbolc is also known as being associated with the goddess Brigid and Cailleach.

Though it is celebrated by many modern pagans and witches, it is still an ancient Gaelic holiday, so be sure you are doing your research to honor the traditions and origin of this holiday.

(It is not a Wiccan holiday, though wiccans do celebrate Imbolc as part of the Wheel of the Year.)

Who is Brigid?

Known also as Brighid or Brid, she is a well known and very popular goddess. She was so widely loved that some believe Christianity was forced to adopt her into their religion as St. Brigid, though there’s not much solid evidence to back this.

Brigid is often associated with spring, fertility, protecting women and children, as well as a goddess of poetry, smithing, and healing.

She has two sisters also named Brigid, but it is speculated that these three sisters are aspects of the same being, making her a triple deity. Though people also worship them separately.

Who is Cailleach?

Imbolc is often associated with Brigid, but you can't have Spring and Summer without Fall and Winter.

Brigid reins over the summer months between Bealltainn (Beltane) and Samhain as Cailleach rules over the winter months between Samhain and Beltane.

She was also a goddess of grains, an important resource for surviving the cold winter months.

The name itself literally means "old woman" or "hag" but Cailleach's name may change depending on where you are. The most common name being Cailleach Bhéara; in the Isle of Man she is known as Caillagh ny Groamagh.

Her relevance to Imbolc doesn't stop there, there is weather divination in Gaelic lore that is decided by the actions of Cailleach. More on this below.

The History of Imbolc

Imbolc is said to be the start of spring, though some would say that it is the start of preparations for springtime. Ewe's were milked around this time and farmers would start preparing the spring sowing.

Lore and Tradition

There is a Scottish Gaelic proverb that says:

Thig an nathair as an toll Là donn Brìde, Ged robh trì troighean dhen t-sneachd Air leac an làir.

The serpent will come from the hole On the brown Day of Bríde, Though there should be three feet of snow On the flat surface of the ground.

Imbolc is the day that Cailleach gathers firewood for the rest of winter.

It is said that if she wants winter to last longer, she will make the weather on Imbolc nice so that she can gather a lot of wood. If the weather is bad that would mean she is asleep and that winter is coming to an end.

There are references to cleaning on and around Imbolc as well.

Holy wells were visited during Imbolc where people would pray for health and leave offerings (coins, food, or beverages like milk) for Brigid.

Other traditions recorded include:

Creating an effigy of Brigid and preparing for a visit from the goddess. Sometimes they would even make a bed and set out food and beverage for the goddess.

Leaving out clothing or items to be blessed by Brigid.

Feasts and festivities were had on Imbolc as well.

Modern Imbolc

This is the point of the post in which I talk about how modern witches, pagans, etc. practice and celebrate Imbolc.

This is by no means a strictly set-in-stone list, just some examples of how modern folks celebrate Imbolc.

Practices or Rituals

Spring cleansing! This could mean literally clean your space but also consider cleansing your space in the spiritual sense. You could use incense, smoke bundles, cleansing sprays, or visualization.

Candles or Hearth Fires. Fire is a big part of the Gaelic seasonal festivals, so light a hearth fire if you can; a candle will do just fine though!

Divination. As mentioned earlier, weather divination is a tradition dating back to ancient times for Imbolc, but it doesn't have to be just weather divination! You can use any type of divination that you generally use, like tarot, runes, scrying, etc.

Gardening or Tending to your plants. Since Imbolc is all about preparation for springtime, now would be a good time to get a jump on gardening! If you have houseplants, pay special attention to them at this time, it may be a good time to repot your botanical babies.

Offerings

These could be for Brigid and Cailleach, but you could also have offerings for other spirits or deities, or whatever you see fit. Here are a few ideas:

Traditional offerings:

Coins

Milk

Honey

Butter

Food from your Imbolc feast/dinner

Mead (though I couldn't find anything directly on this, it was very popular in Old Ireland)

Other offerings:

Tea

Flowers

Cleaning up your yard/an area outside

Lighting a candle or hearth fire

Songs or Poems

Pastries

Associations

Deities: Brigid and Cailleach are the main deities associated with Imbolc, however since this is the modern association section I will mention that other deities people tend to associate with Imbolc that have a springtime connection. Find a list of season related deities here.

Colors: Greens, Orange Light Yellow, Light blue, Silver, White, pastels work well in general, but mostly cool colors.

Herbs and Plants: Blackberry, Lavender, Rosemary, Dandelions, early spring flowers like Forsythia, Snowdrop, Crocus, Winter Aconite, Bleeding Heart, and Rock Cress to name a few.

Blackthorn, Birch, Rowan and Evergreens as well.

Stones/Metals/Crystals: Silver, Quartz, Garnets, Light green stones

Of course this is a list of the most common associations that I have found while researching. If you have an item, color, ritual, or god that you associate with the holiday by all means, don't let my post stop you!

Let me know if you have anything to add :)

[hearmeouteliza]

Just throwing this out there before next week...some slightly revised headcanons/speculation now that we’ve seen Matilda...

My guess is the reason Matilda looks so young is that she’s lived at Castle McDuck most of her life and gets the same anti-aging benefits as her parents have received. She does leave to travel the world now and then, but then she comes home. She lives in the castle to be near her parents, not specifically for the side effects, but she’s learned to make the most of those.

I don’t think she was particularly thrilled when she first found out about the discount runes’ effects, as there are a lot of old Scottish proverbs about not messing with powers one doesn’t understand, but that’s old news now.

She wasn’t around when Scrooge brought the kids to the castle, because either she was already traveling...or with the mists clearing, she suspected Scrooge might be coming by, and immediately planned a trip to anywhere else.

[sacredcynic]

200 Years

    We have visitors - two of them to be exact.  One of the visitors has been to our house frequently, but this was the first overnight visit for the other member of the duo.  For the first time, both grandchildren from our oldest child are spending the night with us.  When one grandchild spends the night, one grandparent can always rest.  Yet when two visit, both grandma and grandpa are on call.  Both of us were needed last evening.

    My wife was putting the 8.5 month old grandson to bed while I kept the 3 year old busy. I was having fun with our 3 year old grand-daughter, but it seemed like the baby thought it was not bed-time yet.  So at some point my wife suggested that we switch.  She started to get the 3 year old ready for bed, while I sat down with my grandson on my lap.  I turned on the TV and watched some golf with the sound muted.  I thought I would narrate what was happening to my 9 month old grandson.  I don’t know if it was my sparkling narration, or the soothing green of the golf course, but my grandson calmed down and watched golf with me. 

    Somewhere in the middle of my talk I was explaining how my Grandpa Ward would take me golfing on Saturday mornings.  We would wake up before dawn and go to the golf course so we would be the first people to play.  As the sun rose in the east, my grandpa and I would start our round before the grass had even started to dry from the morning dew.  Right in the middle of that story I realized something - I am Grandpa Ward. My grandfather was so important to me, and my new prayer is that I might be half the grandpa that my grandfather was.  

   Then I did some math in my head.  My grandfather was born in 1904.  In all likelihood most of my grandchildren will be alive in 2104.  I had this wonderfully rich relationship with my grandfather, and my hope is that we will have a special relationship with our grand-children.  These two relationships span 200 years of living, and they intersect each time I spend time with them.  Last evening that intersection was with a tired boy, just before bed, watching highlights of the Scottish Open on the Golf Channel.  

   Most people underestimate the importance of their own lives.  We look at jobs we would rather have, and houses we would rather own, and feel like life should be somehow more than it is.  Yet in each of our lives we impact a similar time span.  Our words and actions directly impact 200 years of living.   A long time ago, the author of the Proverbs made the same point.  Proverbs 13:22 states, “A good person leaves an inheritance for their children’s children.”  200 years is a long time, and a great opportunity. 

[and-then-there-were-n0ne]

The Witches

To deal with the increasing tide of witchcraft and in conformity with the Pope ’s orders, Inquisitors Jacob Sprenger and Heinrich Kramer collaborated on the Malleus Maleficarum. [From Wikipedia] This document is the best known and the most important treatise on witchcraft. It endorses extermination of witches and for this purpose develops a detailed legal and theological theory. The Malleus elevates sorcery to the criminal status of heresy and prescribes inquisitorial practices for secular courts in order to extirpate witches. The recommended procedures include torture to effectively obtain confessions and the death penalty as the only sure remedy against the evils of witchcraft. At that time, it was typical to burn heretics alive at the stake and the Malleus encouraged the same treatment of witches. […] 

The Malleus also describes the ritual and content of witchcraft per se, though in the tradition of paternalism indigenous to the Church, Sprenger and Kramer are careful not to give formulae for charms or other dangerous information. […] They document how witches injure cattle, cause hailstorms and tempests, illnesses in people and animals, bewitch men, change themselves into animals, change animals into people, commit acts of cannibalism and murder. The main concern of the Malleus is with natural events, nature, the real dynamic world which refused to conform to Catholic doctrine — the Malleus, with tragic wrong-headedness, explains most aspects of biology, sexology, medicine, and weather in terms of the demonic. Before we approach the place of women in this most Christian piece of Western history, the importance of the Malleus itself must be understood. In the Dark Ages, few people read and books were hard to come by. Yet the Malleus was printed in numerous editions. It was found in every courtroom. It had been read by every judge, each of whom would know it chapter and verse. It was a bestseller, second only to the Bible in terms of sales for almost 200 years. It was theology, it was law. To disregard it, to challenge its authority was to commit heresy, a capital crime.

Although statistical information on the witchcraft persecutions is very incomplete, there are judicial records extant for particular towns and areas which are accurate:

In almost every province of Germany the persecution raged with increasing intensity. Six hundred were said to have been burned by a single bishop in Bamberg, where the special witch jail was kept fully packed. Nine hundred were destroyed in a single year in the bishopric of Wurzburg, and in Nuremberg and other great cities there were one or two hundred burnings a year. So there were in France and in Switzerland. A thousand people were put to death in one year in the district of Como. Remigius, one of the Inquisitors, who was author of Daemonolatvia, and a judge at Nancy boasted of having personally caused the burning of nine hundred persons in the course of fifteen years. Delrio says that five hundred were executed in Geneva in three terrified months in 1515. The Inquisition at Toulouse destroyed four hundred persons in a single execution, and there were fifty at Douai in a single year. In Paris, executions were continuous. In the Pyrenees, a wolf country, the popular form was that of the loup-garou, and De L’Ancre at Labout burned two hundred.

It is estimated that at least 1, 000 were executed in England, and the Scottish, Welsh, and Irish were even fiercer in their purges. It is hard to arrive at a figure for the whole of the Continent and the British Isles, but the most responsible estimate would seem to be 9 million. It may well, some authorities contend, have been more. Nine million seems almost moderate when one realizes that The Blessed Reichhelm of Schongan at the end of the 13th century computed the number of the Devil-driven to be 1,758,064,176. A conservative, Jean Weir, physician to the Duke of Cleves, estimated the number to be only 7,409,127. The ratio of women to men executed has been variously estimated at 20 to 1 and 100 to 1. Witchcraft was a woman’s crime.

Men were, not surprisingly, most often the bewitched. Subject to women’s evil designs, they were terrified victims. Those men who were convicted of witchcraft were often family of convicted women witches, or were in positions of civil power, or had political ambitions which conflicted with those of the Church, a monarch, or a local dignitary. Men were protected from becoming witches not only by virtue of superior intellect and faith, but because Jesus Christ, phallic divinity, died “to preserve the male sex from so great a crime: since He was willing to be born and to die for us, therefore He has granted to men this privilege.” Christ died literally for men and left women to fend with the Devil themselves. Without the personal intercession of Christ, women remained what they had always been in Judeo-Christian culture:

Now the wickedness of women is spoken of in Ecclesiasticus xxv: There is no head above the head of a serpent: and there is no wrath above the wrath of a woman. I had rather dwell with a lion and a dragon than to keep house with a wicked woman. And among much which in that place precedes and follows about a wicked woman, he concludes: All wickedness is but little to the wickedness of a woman. Wherefore S. John Chrysostom says on the text. It is not good to marry (S.Matthew  xix): What else is woman but a foe to friendship, an unescapable punishment, a necessary evil, a  natural temptation,  a desirable calamity,  a  domestic danger, a delectable detriment, an evil nature, painted with fair colours!… Cicero in his second book of The Rhetorics says:  The many lusts of men lead them into one sin, but the one lust of women leads them into all sins;  for the root of all woman ’s vices is avarice… When a woman thinks alone, she thinks evil.  

Other characteristics of women made them amenable to sin and to partnership with Satan:

And the first is, that they are more credulous… The second reason is, that women are naturally more impressionable,  and more ready to receive the influence of a disembodied spirit… The third reason is that they have slippery tongues, and are unable to conceal from their fellow-women those things which by evil arts they know; and since they are weak, they find an easy and secret manner of vindicating themselves  by  witchcraft… because in these times this perfidy is more often found in women than in men, as we learn by actual experience, if anyone is curious as to the reason, we may add to what has already been said the following: that since they are feebler both in mind and body, it is not surprising that they should come more under the spell of witchcraft. For as regards intellect, or the understanding of spiritual things, they seem to be of a different nature from men; a fact which is vouched for by the logic of the authorities,  backed by various examples from the Scriptures. Terence says: Women are intellectually like children.

Women are by nature instruments of Satan — they are by nature carnal, a structural defect rooted in the original creation:

But the natural reason is that she is more carnal than a man, as is clear from her many carnal abominations.  And it should be noted that there was a defect in the formation of the first woman,  since she was formed from a bent rib, that is, rib of the breast, which is bent as it were in a contrary direction to a man. And since through this defect she is an imperfect animal, she always deceives… And all this is indicated by the etymology of the word;  for  Femina comes from Feand Minus, since she is ever weaker to hold and preserve the  Faith.  And this as regards faith is of her very nature… This is so even among holy women, so what must it be among others?

In addition, “Women also have weak memories,” “woman will follow her own impulse even to her own destruction,” “nearly all the kingdoms of the world have been overthrown by women,” “the world now suffers through the malice of women,” “a woman is beautiful to look upon, contaminating to the touch, and deadly to keep,” “she is a liar by nature,” “her gait, posture, and habit… is vanity of vanities.” Women are most vividly described as being “more bitter than death”

And I have found a woman more bitter than death, who is the hunter’s snare, and her heart is a  net, and her hands are bands.  He that pleaseth God shall escape from her; but he that is a sinner shall be caught by her. More bitter than death, that is, than the devil… More bitter than death, again, because that is natural and destroys only the body, but the sin which arose from woman destroys the soul by depriving it of grace and delivers the body up to the punishment for sin. More bitter than death, again, because bodily death is an open and terrible enemy, but woman is a wheedling and secret enemy.

and  also:

And that she is more perilous than a snare does not speak of the snare of hunters, but of devils. For men are caught not only through their carnal desires, when they see and hear women:  for S.Bernard says: Their face is a burning wind,  and their voice the hissing of serpents… And when it is said that her heart is a net, it speaks of the inscrutable malice which reigns in their hearts… To conclude:  All witchcraft comes from carnal lust, which is in women insatiable. See Proverbs xxx: there are three things that are never satisfied, yea, a fourth thing which says not,  it is enough;  that is, the mouth of the womb.

[…] The words flow almost too easily in our psychoanalytic age: we are dealing with an existential terror of women, of the “mouth of the womb,” stemming from a primal anxiety about male potency, tied to a desire for self (phallic) control; men have deep-rooted  castration fears which are expressed as a horror of the womb.These terrors form the substrata of a myth of feminine evil which in turn justified several centuries of gynocide. The evidence, provided by the Malleus and the executions which blackened those centuries, is almost without limit. One particular concern was that devils stole semen (vitality) from innocent, sleeping men — seductive witches visited men in their sleep, and did the evil stealing. As Ernest Jones wrote:

The explanation for these fantasies is surely not hard. A nightly visit from a beautiful or frightful being who first exhausts the sleeper with passionate embraces and withdraws from him a vital fluid: all this can point only to a natural and common process, namely to nocturnal emissions accompanied by dreams of a more or less erotic nature. In the unconscious mind blood is commonly an equivalent for semen.

To be dreamed of often ended in slow burning on the stake. The most blatant proof of the explicitly sexual nature of the persecutions, however, had to do with one of the witches’ most frequent crimes: they cast “glamours” over the male organ so that it disappeared entirely. Sprenger and Kramer go to great lengths to prove that witches do not actually remove the genital, only render it invisible. If such a glamour lasts for under 3 years, a marriage cannot be annulled; if it lasts for 3 years or longer, it is considered a permanent fact and does annul any marriage. Catholics now seeking grounds for divorce should perhaps consider using that one. Men lost their genitals quite frequently. Most often, the woman responsible for the loss was a cast-off mistress, maliciously turned to witchcraft. If the bewitched man could identify the woman who had afflicted him, he could demand reinstatement of his genitals:

A young man who had lost his member and suspected a certain woman, tied a towel about her neck, choked her and demanded to be cured. “The witch touched him with her hand between the thighs,  saying,  ‘Now you have your desire.” His member was immediately restored.

Often the witches, greedy by virtue of womanhood, were not content with the theft of one  genital:

And what then is to be thought of those witches who in this way sometimes collect  male  organs, as many as twenty or thirty members together, and put them in a bird’s nest or shut them up in a box, where they move themselves like living members and eat oats and corn, as has been seen by many as is a matter of common  report?

How can we understand that millions of people for centuries believed as literal truth these seemingly idiotic allegations? How can we begin to comprehend that these beliefs functioned as the basis of a system of jurisprudence that condemned 9 million persons, mostly women, to being burned alive? The literal text of the Malleus Maleficarum, with its frenzied and psychotic woman-hating and the fact of the 9 million deaths, demonstrates the power of the myth of feminine evil, reveals how it dominated the dynamics of a culture, shows the absolute primal terror that women, as carnal beings, hold for men. We see in the text of the Malleusnot only the fear of loss of potency or virility, but of the genitals themselves — a dread of the loss of cock and balls. […] 

God had, in his oft-noted wisdom, created her in a way which left her defenseless against the wiles of the snake — the snake approached her for that very reason. Yet she bears responsibility for the fall. Double­double think is clearly biblical in its origins. Eve ’s legacy was a twofold curse: “Unto the woman He said:  ‘I will greatly multiply thy pain and thy travail; in pain thou shalt bring forth children;  and thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee.” Thus, the menstrual cycle and the traditional agony of childbirth do not comprise the full punishment — patriarchy is the other half of that ancient curse. […] 

The witches used drugs like belladonna and aconite, organic amphetamines, and hallucinogenics. They also pioneered the development of analgesics. They performed abortions, provided all medical help for births, were consulted in cases of impotence which they treated with herbs and hypnotism, and were the first practitioners of euthanasia. Since the Church enforced the curse of Eve by refusing to permit any alleviation of the pain of childbirth, it was left to the witches to lessen pain and mortality as best they could. It was especially as midwives that these learned women offended the Church, for, as Sprenger and Kramer wrote, “No one does more harm to the Catholic Faith than midwives.” The Catholic objection to abortion centered specifically on the biblical curse which made childbearing a painful punishment — it did not have to do with the “right to life” of the unborn fetus. It was also said that midwives were able to remove labor pains from the woman and transfer those pains to her husband—clearly in violation of divine injunction and intention both. […] 

The Christians, who had a profound and compulsive hatred for the natural world, thought that the witches, through malice and a lust for power (pure projection,  no doubt), had mobilized nature/ animals into a robotlike anti-Christian army. The witch hunters were convinced that toads, rats, dogs, cats, mice, etc., took orders from witches, carried curses from one farm to another, caused death, hysteria, and disease. They thought that nature was one massive, crawling conspiracy against them, and that the conspiracy was organized and controlled by the wicked women. They can in fact be credited with pioneering the politics of total paranoia — they developed the classic model for that particular pathology which has,  as its logical consequence, genocide. Their methods of dealing with the witch menace were developed empirically — they had a great respect for what worked.  For instance, when they suspected a woman of witchcraft,  they would lock her in an empty room for several days or weeks and if any living creature, any insect or spider, entered that room, that creature was identified as the woman’s familiar, and she was proved guilty of witchcraft. Naturally, given the fact that bugs are everywhere,  particularly in the woodwork, this test of guilt always worked. Cats were particularly associated with witches. That association is based on the ancient totemic significance of the cat:

It is well known that to the Egyptians cats were sacred. They were regarded as incarnations of Isis and there was also a cat deity… Through Osiris (Ra) they were associated with the sun; the rays of the “solar cat,” who was portrayed as killing the “serpent of darkness” at each dawn, were believed to produce fecundity in Nature, and thus cats were figures of fertility… Cats were also associated with Hathor, a cow-headed goddess, and hence with crops and rain … Still stronger, however, was the association of the cat with the moon, and thus she was a virgin goddess — a virgin-mother incarnation. In her character as moon- goddess, she was inviolate and self-renewing… the circle she forms in a curled-up position [is seen as] the symbol for eternity, an unending re-creation.

[…] It was also believed that the witch could transform herself into a cat or other animal. This notion, called lycanthropy, is twofold:

… either the belief that a witch or devil-ridden person temporarily assumes an animal form, to ravage or destroy; or, that they create an animal “double”  in which,  leaving the lifeless human body at home, he or she can wander, terrorize or batten on mankind.

The effect of the belief in lycanthropy on the general population was electric: a stray dog, a wildcat, a rat, a toad — all were witches, agents of  Satan, bringing with them drought, disease, death. Any animal in the environment was dangerous, demonic. The legend of the werewolf  (popularized in the Red Riding  Hood fable) caused terror. At Labout, two hundred people were burned as werewolves. There were endless stories of farmers shooting animals who were plaguing them in the night, only to discover the next morning that a respectable town matron had been wounded in precisely the same way. Witches, of course,  could also fly on broomsticks, and often did. Before going to the sabbat,  they annointed their bodies with a mixture of belladonna and aconite, which caused delirium, hallucination, and gave the sensation of flying. The broomstick was an almost archetypal symbol of womanhood, as the pitchfork was of manhood. Levitation was considered a rare but genuine fact:

As for its history, it is one of the earliest convictions, common to almost all peoples, that not only do supernatural beings, angels or devils, fly or float in the air at will, but so can those humans who invoke their assistance.  Levitation among the saints was, and by the devout is, accepted as an objective fact. The most famous instance is that of St. Joseph of Cupertino, whose ecstatic flights (and he perched in trees) caused embarrassment in the seventeenth century.  Yet the appearance of flight, in celestial trance, has been claimed all through the history of the Church, and not only for such outstanding figures as St. Francis, St. Ignatius Loyola, or St.Teresa… In the Middle  Ages it was regarded as a marvel, but a firmly established one… It is not, therefore, at all remarkable that witches were believed to fly… [though] the Church expressly forbade, during the reign of Charlemagne, any belief that witches flew.

We now know most of what can be known about the witches: who they were, what they believed, what they did, the Church’s vision of them.  We have seen the historical dimensions of a myth of feminine evil which resulted in the slaughter of 9 million persons, nearly all women, over 300 years. The actual evidence of that slaughter, the remembrance of it, has been suppressed for centuries so that the myth of woman as the Original Criminal, the gaping, insatiable womb, could endure. Annihilated with the 9 million was a whole culture, woman-centered,  nature-centered — all of their knowledge is gone, all of their knowing is destroyed. Historians (white, male, and utterly without credibility for women, Indians, Blacks, and other oppressed peoples as they begin to search the ashes of their own pasts) found  the massacre of the witches too unimportant to include in the chronicles of those centuries except as a footnote, too unimportant to be seen as the substance of those centuries — they did not recognize the centuries of gynocide, they did not register the anguish  of those deaths. Our study of pornography, our living of life, tells us that the myth of feminine evil lived out so resolutely by the Christians of the Dark  Ages,  is alive and well, here and now.  Our study of pornography, our living of life,  tells us that though the witches are dead, burned alive at the stake, the belief in female evil is not,  the hatred of female carnality is not. The Church has not changed its premises;  the culture has not refuted those premises.  It is left to us, the inheritors of that myth, to destroy it and the institutions based on it.

- Andrea Dworkin, Woman Hating

[jontrayner]

Mechanised Dreams and Peasant Imaginaries

As I have been teaching undergraduates on an Illustration degree, I have been paying even more attention to concept art and sci-fi/fantasy illustration than I usually do.  In the past this attention has generally been unfocused and un-theorised, my enjoyment of these images being that of purely visual entertainment.  However, a series of images by the Polish artist Jakub Rozalski recently grabbed my attention more than usual and prompted me to think a bit more about a couple of entwined topics:  The role of the image of the peasant in the formation of national identity, and the fabrication of history.  I have a particular interest in this, from an anarchist position, considering the rural poor’s involvement both in pre-modern revolt and in non-authoritarian leftist revolution.  The narratives of “history” tend however to write the peasant in the role of defender of the nation and promoter of conservative values.

Rozalski’s series 1920+ consists of a number of diesel-punk digital paintings focussing on an alternate history of the brief Polish-Soviet War of that year.  In these paintings the war is imagined as a science fiction conflict between giant war-mecha similar to that found in the Warhammer 40K universe.  The imagery takes on the dark and oppressive feeling and the combination of high-tech war machines and primitive civilian subsistence of 40K, but instead of focussing on battle, the images rather present the pauses, or pre-battle manoeuvres of the machines in the countryside.  Bringing to mind the Martian war machines striding across the English pastoral of The War of the Worlds – or the description of a jet engine loaded onto a horse and cart to be taken from the factory to the train depot in John Timberlake's Landscape and the Science Fiction Imaginary (2018 p.75). In Rozalski’s paintings it is true that “the future is already here, it is just unevenly distributed” (Gibson, 2018).

What makes these paintings interesting for me is that alongside these fantasy stylings they present a depiction of rural peasant life in pre-industrial Poland.  A world where sheep are herded, and crops are scythed by hand by figures in traditional Polish dress – the world of 19th century Romantic and Realist nationalist painting.  This is heightened by the similarity between Rozalski’s loose mark-making and that of the Polish Romantic Piotr Michałowski.  This connection to the painting of the late 1800s is not coincidental; this was the period when the ideas of realism were put into the service of various nationalist projects.  Cultural forms were deployed to bolster the credentials of both large states, but also subaltern and colonised populations; like the Poles.   This search for a national identity through reference to the peasantry is traced by Margaret Carroll back to the northern Renaissance and the work of artists like Sebald Beham and Pieter Bruegel:

The growing assertiveness over native rights in the political sphere in the 1550s and 1560s was matched by ethnic self-consciousness in the cultural sphere […] the defense of native culture and customs promoted a benign attitude towards and even a sense of identification with the country's rural inhabitants. (1987 p.296)

The re-emergence of this identification with the peasant class in the 19th century is linked by T.J. Clark to the desire by the industrial bourgeoisie to reconnect with their recent rural past (1973 p.124).  These viewers wanted to see the countryside, that they only now saw from trains, or on daytrips, and that their parents or maybe even themselves, had so recently escaped from, not as a place of poverty, ignorance, and grinding subsistence in the face of ever present famine, but rather one of plenty, relaxation, and harmony with the seasons and the earth.  As Clark points out the initial realism of Gustave Courbet was met with anger from the Paris Salon because it refused to take part in this fiction; presenting the rural inhabitants of Ornans as individuals rather than as idealisations of a type (ibid. p.85).  Later Realists did not have these scruples and were happy to idealise the rural poor, as can be seen in the work of Jean-François Millet and Jules Bastien-Lepage.  A similar exercise was undertaken with regards to national identity with the Slavic Realists; Russian artists such as Ilya Repin used paintings such as Reply of the Zaporozhian Cossacks to Sultan Mehmed IV (1891) to foster a sense of Russian-ness or, in a Polish context, Jan Matejko’s history paintings and Zygmunt Ajdukiewicz’s depictions of national dress.  These works drew attention to Poland’s past glories and current cultural distinctiveness as part of the push for an independent Polish state. This subversion of Realism and of history is a product of an understanding of the fictional nature of history post-Hegel where “writing history and writing stories come under the same regime of truth” (Rancière, 2004 p.38).

The idea that peasant dress is an unadulterated expression of identity is by and large a 19th century fabrication – most famously expressed through the invention of the kilt as Scottish national dress (Green, 2017).  Griselda Pollock and Fred Orton examination of this in relation to the depictions of Breton peasant women by Parisian artists pointing out that these “traditional” forms were the result of the increased prosperity of (some) peasants during the previous century – “costume came to signify region, locality, class, wealth and marital status within a nouveau-riche peasantry” (1980 p.327).  Ulinka Rublack argues that the assumption that peasant costume was “virtually immobile for centuries” (2010 p.262) is inaccurate – it is rather a product of this desire to see the peasant as an unchanging model for the national spirit.  This links together:

A certain idea of history as common destiny, with an idea of those who ‘make history’, and that this interpenetration of the logic of facts and the logic of stories is specific to an age when anyone and everyone is considered to be participating in the task of ‘making’ history.  (Rancière, 2004 p.39)

This can obviously serve to give the peasants a sense of their own agency as a political and cultural force, but that requires the peasant to identify with the image of themselves with which they are presented.  If the identification only happens amongst the urban petit-bourgeoise who are looking for a hook to hang their nationhood on, then that can lead to a sense of “false” history of the type we are currently witnessing in right-wing populist discourse.

Taken in this sense one cannot help but see Rozalski’s paintings as a reactionary expression of nationalism – of the sort that is becoming grimly familiar across Europe, as borders are closed, and minorities hounded.  The depictions of military hardware and agricultural labour could certainly be seen as part the blood and soil traditions of mid-20th century fascism, but is this necessarily the case?  In his description of Kosciuszko Squadron on his website he refers to the 1920 war as being fought to preserve “Polish independence” which suggests, at least, an anti-communist position.  However, looking at Rozalski’s other paintings outside this series there is no indication of any particular attachment to the contemporary Polish national project, and the celebrations of pagan traditions certainly demonstrate no love of Catholicism.  Though this could be argued to be an alignment with fascist neo-folk paganism of the type discussed by Anton Shekhovtsov (2009).  While Rozalski’s more traditional fantasy works do not escape from the characterisation of all fantasy as essentially backward looking and reactionary (see Michael Moorcock's 1978 essay; Epic Pooh), they do have a healthy anti-authoritarianism that it is difficult to square with any sense of national superiority or ethnic supremacy.

The 1920+ images themselves are relatively neutral, the Soviet and Polish forces are not depicted in moral terms, and the peasants are largely indifferent spectators to the conflict – an exception being The Youngest Sister, though the implication here is that it is the familial relationship that causes the connection between soldier and peasant.  This brings to mind John Berger's quotation of a Russian peasant proverb: “Don't run away from anything, but don't do anything” (1978 p.346).  It is this peasant tradition that I want to turn to now. Rozalski might be accused of valorising his peasantry, at a point when post-communist Polish society is undergoing a second “modernisation” (Tymiński and Koryś, 2015), but these peasant values can point towards a site of resistance of the mechanisms of both the state and capital.

It could be that Rozalski's peasants are indifferent because they know that it does not matter if either the nationalists or the communists win – because neither side truly cares about the peasants, the only people the peasants can trust is each other. “Unlike any other working and exploited class the peasantry has always supported itself and this has made it to some degree a class apart.” (Berger, 1978 p.346).  The fact that the peasants have always been conscious of themselves as both producers and consumers of their own labour whose primary enemies have not just been the current ruling class (be that the bourgeoise or the industrial proletariat) who will extract their “surplus” before it is a surplus, but also both natural disaster but also the vagaries of war (ibid. p.347).  It is this situation that in the ideological conflicts of the mid-20th century led the revolutionary elements of the European peasantry to cast their lot in with the Anarchist cause, rather than the Marxist communists.  It was not until the emergence of Mao Tse-Tung that Marxism found a leader who could convince the peasantry of the value of communism.  He did this by “embracing and enhancing, local tradition permitting rooted people to turn to the distant national leader into that saviour their legends, emotions and situations had long demanded.” (Friedman, 1976 p.120).  Similarly, in Vietnam in the 1930s “the [Communist] party adopted the program of the peasantry not the other way around” – indicating that the peasantry could become a revolutionary political force, if convinced that the revolution would serve their interests (Scott, 1976 p.148).   The supposed inward- and backward-looking peasant conservatism is not therefore to be confused with the conservatism of national chauvinism – though it is often exploited by it.

Peasant conservatism, within the context of peasant experience, has nothing in common with the conservatism of a privileged ruling class or the conservatism of a sycophantic petty-bourgeoisie.  The first is an attempt, however vain, to make their privilege absolute; the second is a way of siding with the powerful in exchange for a little delegated power over the working classes.  Peasant conservatism scarcely defends any privilege.  Which is why, much to the surprise of urban political and social theorists, small peasants have so often rallied to the defence of richer peasants.  It is the conservatism not of power but of meaning.  It represents a depository (a granary) of meaning preserved from lives and generations threatened by continual and inexorable change. (Berger, 1978, pp.355-6)

This conservatism and indifference to the concerns that exist outside of those of communal survival is a vital mechanism for both the peasant’s security and their independence, the two being linking in the peasant’s mind.  It tends to manifest as an accumulated knowledge – mētis – that is opaque to the external viewer and is therefore dismissed as reactionary or unscientific by progressive political theorists whose worldview is grounded in the (post)industrialised proletariat (Scott 1998 pp.324-5).

With Rozalski’s paintings we are therefore presented with a number of interlocking and potentially contradictory themes.  Regardless of intention – there is unarguably a possibility that these paintings can be used to bolster nationalist rhetoric.  Their science-fiction-ness is of a type that plays with dark authoritarian themes, and the peasants can be taken as unreconstructed symbols of nationhood. But I have argued that this straightforward reading is not necessarily the only one available and that the shepherds and reapers with their, by and large, indifference to the war can be viewed in the tradition of the peasant as distrustful of external forces and their disagreements.  This argument fits in with a historical libertarian communist position that has been dismissed by orthodox Marxism – a dismissal that damages universalist pretentions of Marxism and makes the rural proletariat susceptible to conservative rhetoric.

 ***

Images:

ROZALSKI J., 1920 - The Youngest Sister.  [viewed 8 April 2020].  Available from: https://jrozalski.com/projects/gJ39yQ

ROZALSKI J., 1920 - Kosciuszko Squadron. [viewed 8 April 2020].  Available from: https://jrozalski.com/projects/aYq8J

ROZALSKI J., 1920 - Harvest. [viewed 8 April 2020].  Available from: https://jrozalski.com/projects/lV92e

Bibliography:

BERGER J., 1978. Towards Understanding Peasant Experience. Race and Class, 19(4), 345-359

CARROLL M.D., 1987.  Peasant Festivity and Political Identity in the Sixteen Century. Art History, 10(3), 289-302

CLARK T.J., 1973.  Image of the People; Gustave Courbet and the 1848 Revolution.  London: Thames and Hudson

FRIEDMAN E., 1976. ‘The Peasant War in Germany’ by Friedrich Engels – 125 Years After.  In: J. Bak. The German Peasant War of 1525, London: Frank Cass, pp. 89-135

GIBSON W., 2018. The Science in Science Fiction [viewed 4 April 2020]. Available from: https://www.npr.org/2018/10/22/1067220/the-science-in-science-fiction?t=1586007308697

GREEN C., 2017. How Highlanders Came to Wear Kilts. In: Jstor Daily. 25 December 2017 [viewed 4 April 2020].  Available from: https://daily.jstor.org/how-scottish-highlanders-came-to-wear-kilts/

MOORCOCK M., 1978. Epic Pooh [viewed 4 April 2020].  Available from https://warwick.ac.uk/fac/arts/english/currentstudents/undergraduate/modules/en361fantastika/bibliography/2.7moorcock_m.1978epic_pooh.pdf

ORTON F. and G. POLLOCK, 1980.  Les Donneés Bretonnantes: La Prairie De Répresentation.  Art History, 3(3), 314-346

RANCIÈRE J., 2004.  The Politics of Aesthetics. London: Continuum

ROZALSKI J., Jakub Rozalski; howling at the moon. [viewed 8 April 2020] Available from https://jrozalski.com

RUBLACK U., 2010. Dressing Up; Cultural Identity in Renaissance Europe.  Oxford: Oxford University Press

SCOTT J.C., 1976.  The Moral Economy of the Peasant, New Haven: Yale University Press

SCOTT J.C., 1998.  Seeing Like a State, New Haven: Yale University Press

SHEKHOVTSOV A., 2009. Apoliteic music: Neo-Folk, Martial Industrial and “metapolitical fascism”.  Patterns of Prejudice, 43(5), 431-457

TIMBERLAKE J., 2018. Landscape and the Science Fiction Imaginary. Bristol: Intellect

TYMIŃSKI M. and P. KORYŚ, 2015.  An Escape from Backwardness?  The Polish Transformation as a Modernization Project. The Central European Journal of Social Sciences and Humanities, volume 75

[queenie435]

Exemplore»

Magic

Storm Callers - The Art of Weather Magic

Updated on April 16, 2017

Pollyanna Jones

"Many tales were bruited about the power of witches and wizards over storms, weapons, spirits, love, and death. I have been assured that at this day the country folk, some of them at least, tremble at the sight of one of these gifted persons, or persons of such repute, lest by some chance the sorcerers eye lighting on them should kindle in him a dislike." – Rev Oswald Cockayne, 1864

The weather. Most unpredictable, and most important to those living off the land, efforts have been made throughout the ages to predict and even control the sun, wind, and rain. Good weather would ensure a plentiful harvest and safe travels, whilst a wet summer or particularly harsh drought would doom a community to starvation and suffering. Even today, extreme weather events affect us profoundly, claiming lives each year. So it is no wonder that throughout the ages, man has tried to influence the elements around him.

Tales of magical manipulation of the weather appear all over Europe, and appear in the Sagas as well as Saxon records. Even today, we utter charms to ensure good weather.

"Rain, rain, go away.

Come again another day."

~ Traditional English proverb, charm for good weather.

Appeasing the Sea

It would seem that some of Britain's earliest superstitions around the sea and weather came to our shores with the Norsemen.

The goddess Rán, one of the deities who ruled the domain of the sea, would catch any who fell overboard with her net. The Helgakviða Hjörvarðssonar Edda describes how she receives those drowned at sea, luring men into the water and sinking ships with her daughters, the waves. As a result, many Norsemen would carry gold with them on a voyage, to appease Rán in the unfortunate event they drowned. 

This superstition was carried through right up to the present day; it is believed placing a gold coin under the mast will bring good luck and works as a talisman against stormy weather.

Rán's Embrace | Source

Taming the Tempests

The goddess Rán was the least of their worries though. With the sea being the main transport route of the time, the Norse were vulnerable to the elements, and many accounts speak of how magical forces were at work as a weapon against those sailing the seas. Snorri Sturluson wrote, in Heimskringla:

"King Hakon lay in the Southern Isles, the Hebrides, St Michaels mass fell on a Saturday and on the Monday night, that is, the night before Monday, came a mickle storm with wild fury, and drove a cock boat and a long ship upon the coast of Scotland. On Monday the storm was so fierce that some cut away their masts and some ships drove. The kings ship drove also into the sound, and there were seven anchors out, and at last the eighth, which was the biggest, but she drove notwithstanding. A little later the anchor held fast. So mickle was this storm that the men said it was the work of enchantment, and one made upon it these skaldic verses:-

"There met the much scarching

Maintainer of war

The sorcerers arts

Of Scotlands warlocks.

Roaring the raging sea

Drove with its fair sails

Many a proud ship

Of the beah giver

Broken on land.

Blew with its loud blasts

On the brine skimmers

Full fraught with warriors

Fiercely the sea storm

Stirred up by the wizards.

Up on to Scotland

Scattered and tossed

Broad barking billows

Threw brave men of battle

With shields and war gear

Shivered and torn.""

The weather magic of the warlocks of Scotland was at play, denying many a brave warrior his place in Valhalla.

In this piece entitled "Vikings", a ship of Norsemen battle through a storm at sea. | Source

Another instance of Scottish magic being used against the Norse can be found in the folktale, "Pitchpine: The Norse King's Sorcerous Daughter":

"As they reached the shores, the women of Lochaber used incantations of their own to destroy the vessel. The boat was wrecked at the entrance to Loch Eil, and all souls lost. More ships were sent, and met the same fate.

Finally, the Norse King sent out his most powerful fleet; an armada of sea stallions filled with his best warriors and most experienced sailing men. Their first mission was to weaken the magic of the Scottish folk before moving inland to recover the Norse King's daughter's remains.

They headed to the island of Iona, where it is said that magic was drawn from the fairy wells upon the hill there. The waters of these wells held a power that could call a wind from any direction when needed. In peaceful times this would help the fishermen sail out to the herring shoals, but in times such as these, they could be used to whip up a tempest wherever it was wanted. The islanders just needed to draw water from the wells and empty it in the direction that the wind was needed. The Norsemen knew of this place and its magical waters, and the likeliness that they had been used to ruin their kinsmen before them. If these wells were dried up, then safe passage would be secured, not just for their fleet, but for invaders thereafter.

When the islanders saw the viking ships approaching, they hurried to the fairy wells and began to draw up the water. Nearly emptying the wells themselves, the storm that was called up was so violent that Norse fleet was tossed about and ripped to pieces. The ships were torn apart and hurled onto the shores beneath Fairy Hill on Iona. The power and might of the Norsemen was broken."

"The Finns made in the night violent weather with their cunning sorcery and a storm at sea."

~ Saga of Saint Olaf, anonymous

As Christianity spread throughout Europe, many of the old observations and rites changed to become superstitions. Evil magic could be found everywhere, and the newly converted Norse, fearful of the ire of the shunned Gods, would not dare set sail on a Friday for fear that they would be easy pickings.

This is observed by some sailors even today, and the superstition is thought to have its origins with the Norse Goddess, Frigga. Friday is thought to have been her day, and as the Old Gods were viewed as being evil, a theory has been put forward that priests in Scandinavia preached that Frigga was an evil hag, and she and her witches would whip up storms on Friday. Friday became branded as an unlucky day, so any ship due to sail would be doomed.

"The Spanish Armada and English Ships in August, 1588", artist unknown.

Weather Witches

In Elizabethan England, Sir Francis Drake was said to have sold his soul to the Devil in exchange for success as skilled seaman. He later earned victory in 1588 against the Spanish Armada heading towards England, with great luck on his side.

A terrible storm swept through the English Channel, which hampered Spanish warships. It is said that the Drake had the help of the Devil and witches in the sea battle, who called the storm to aid the English fleet. Folklore tells how the spirits of these witches still haunt the coast around Devonport, at a spot known as Devil's Point.

"Rain" | Source

By the time that Queen Elizabeth was on the throne, magical ways were deemed dangerous and evil, and steps were taken to hunt out witches and warlocks by the Church. What would once have been a useful skill was now seen as a tool of the devil.

This account of weather manipulation was recorded by a "witch hunter" in Swabia, which is now modern-day southern Germany.

"A strange thing lately happened, as has been ascertained in Swabia: a little girl, eight years old, was led by her father, who was a bailiff, to visit the fields, and when he complained of the extreme drouth*, she said she would soon get up some rain if there were need of it. Her father, in wonder, asked whether she knew how to do it; she declared she could get rain, or even hail if she chose. When asked where she had learn this, she said from her mother, and that instructors in these matters were at hand when required. To learn therefore by trial whether the child told the truth, he bid her call for rain upon his farm. For that purpose the daughter said she should want a little water; when then he had brought her to a small stream just by, the child, in pursuance of her mothers instructions, stirred the water with her finger in the devils name; hereupon the air was agitated and the rain descended as she had predicted. Her father told her to fetch some hail upon another field, and when she had done it the man denounced his wife to the authorities. She was burnt alive, and the child was reconciled to the church and made a nun." [3]

*drought

Angela Lansbury as Miss Price, leading a spectral host of warriors to battle, defending Britain from invading foes! | Source

A Magical Battle

Witchcraft also made an appearance during WW2. Whilst Disney's Bedknobs and Broomsticks is a work of fantasy, there is truth in the account that witches in the England and Scotland were working against the powers of the enemy to prevent invasion.

Operation Mistletoe was a magical strike, organised by a lady named Dion Fortune. Gathering some of Britain's more prominent magicians including Dennis Wheatley, Aleister Crowley, and Ian Fleming (yes, the author behind James Bond!), a Cone of Power was directed against Germany.

During the rite, spirits of ancient heroes of the British Isles such as King Arthur, St. George, and Merlin were called upon to protect the UK's shores. A cabal of magic workers gathered in the New Forest under Gerald Gardner, and some accounts tell how witches gathered directly on the Cliffs of Dover to stop a Nazi invasion and assist the British airmen during the Battle of Britain.

Bad weather caused a much smaller Luftwaffe force to take to the skies, and with the skill of British airmen, the enemy was turned away. Victory in the skies was granted to the RAF on 31st October, 1940. It is worth noting that this date coincides with Halloween, or the ancient festival of Samhain; a day of power for many witches, where the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead is at its thinnest

Wind Magic | Source

Modern Beliefs

Of course, we live in an age of reason and logic. The weather is produced through varying factors such as sea currents, air pressure, and many other variables. Whilst our technology allows us to track weather fronts, it is still very difficult to predict the weather seven days from now, let alone control it.

We now have technology such as cloud seeding, which enables us to encourage clouds to drop rain in areas of drought, and there are many conspiracy theories about how technologies exist to create more severe weather events.

None of this could be described as being magic though. For this we need to look at our customs and supersitions. A handful of these from England include:

"When you've eaten a boiled egg, always smash a hole through the bottom of the shell. If you don't a witch will ride it out to sea and cause a storm."

Sea hags could often stir up a storm. Best not to help them by leaving your eggshells intact!

"Rain, rain, go away. Come again another day."

Our best known charm for improving the weather.

"If you pull a face in the wind, it'll stick!"

The demons that ride with strong winds were thought to have disfiguring powers.

"If you sing badly, it'll rain."

Enchantment has it's origins with "enchante", or "singing". Witches and sorceresses would use magical songs and chants to perform certain spells. Some of these would no doubt have been used to call the rains.

"Tread on an ant, you'll make it rain."

Ants tend to come out in good weather, on the hunt for foods to take back before the weather turns.

"To end a drought, dip an effigy of a saint in water."

This may have also been done as a punishment to the saint for ignoring the community's prayers! Possibly originating with the custom of leaving holy pre-Christian effigies in springs or lakes, i.e. Nerthus' wain.

"Ring bells during a gale, to scare the demons away."

Church bells were often rung during a storm to frighten evil forces.

"Gales come to take a great spirit away."

Some people believe this is the Devil come to claim a soul, but this superstition is likely to have its origins in legends of the Wild Hunt.

So do any of these hold any truth?

See for yourself. Let me know if you have any results to prove or disprove any of the superstitions above!

Are you superstitious about the weather?

Yes, stop singing already!

No, don't be absurd!

See results

Sources

[1] Rev Oswald Cockayne - Leechdoms, Wortcunning, and Starcraft of Early England, 1864 - ISBN 978-1298592057

[2] Pitchpine: The Norse King's Sorcerous Daughter

[3] Caesalpinus Daemonum Investigatio, 1591

[rt8815]

Bedtime Stories

Inspired by this post, which was in turn inspired by “Eating for Two?” by @dontshootmespence Requested by @ultrarebelheart and @stunudo (Happy Mamma’s Day, by the way!)

WC: 1,331

It’s longer than I intended, and it covers more than just reading, because it intersects with my OC story. Enjoy!

Edit: set in Fall/Winter 2025

A peaceful silence settled over the Reid household. Spencer had just tucked in his three-year-old son, Jason. It hadn’t been easy; McKinley had always played lullabies for him on her guitar, and Spencer flawlessly tinkling them out on the keyboard clearly was not an acceptable substitute.

“Thanks, but they're not Mommy’s lu’bies, Daddy,” he’d said with a sigh. “I don’t feel the music in my heart.”

McKinley would’ve told Spencer that too. “You’re playing from your head, not your heart, String Bean.”

He’d finally drifted off though, the pride of switching to a toddler bed last month still very apparent.

Spencer had developed an appreciation for how difficult it must’ve been for his wife all those times he’d worked a case out of town. She’d essentially lived and functioned as a single parent for weeks at a time.

He found his way to the living room, where a stack of papers on the coffee table were waiting to be graded, but he couldn’t focus. The moment Spencer sat on the couch, his mind started wandering, mulling over recent changes in his life, though never doubting his choices that brought those changes. He got so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear little footsteps on the hardwood.

“Hi Daddy.” Spencer shook out of his stupor, turning his attention to his daughter. Five years old and half-grown already, she was the spitting image of her mother: button nose, high cheek bones, and eyes that changed color seemingly at will. Her hair, however, she'd inherited from Spencer.

He checked his watch. “It’s 7:45, Sophie. You need to start thinking about getting ready for bed.” She pressed a large book into his lap before hoisting herself onto the couch.

“It’s not a school night, it's Friday, so I'm allowed to stay up later,” his daughter reminded him.

“Fair enough, but have you brushed your teeth?

She blew gently in his face. “I’m minty fresh!”

“Did you finish your homework?”

She dropped her chin and raised her eyebrows. “Father, I’m offended you have to ask.”

“Hey now, watch your tone,” he scolded. Her sass came from both Mom and Dad, as well as her pouty face, which she was currently employing against him.

Spencer relented. “All right, I don't suppose a few chapters would hurt. What do we have here?” He hadn't noticed which book she'd brought. “Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone? You don't need my help with this. You're reading at an eighth-grade level, Li’l Gourd.”

Sophie slid the illustrated hardback off his lap and flipped some pages.

“I know, Daddy. Tonight I'm reading to you because you're sad, and I always feel better when you read to me.”

Spencer knitted his brows. “Why do you think I'm sad, Sophie?”

She shrugged. “You’ve been extra quiet this week.”

“We're a family of introverts,” he chuckled. “Quiet is in our DNA.”

“The quieter on the outside, the louder on the inside,” Sophie noted. “I worry ‘bout you sometimes.”

A mother hen from day one, that kid.

"It's my job to worry about you, not the other way around,” Spencer told her as she called the dog up to join them.

“C’mere Boogie! C'mon!” He lithely jumped on Spencer's other side, shoving his snout under his arm.

"I'm just tired, kiddo. We ran around a lot this week, and I have papers to grade, and...”

He faltered when Sophie patted his arm comfortingly.

“It's okay, Daddy. I miss Mamma too. Don't worry, you're doing an excellent job on your own, but somebody’s gotta look after you.”

“Again, that’s my job.” Spencer tapped her nose lightly, gathered her in a hug and kissed the top of her head.

“Ready when you are, sweetheart.”

She rested the book across their laps and began reading. “Chapter One, “The Boy Who Lived.” Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much…”

They got as far as “The Keeper of the Keys” before Sophie nodded off. Spencer moved the book to the coffee table. Not wanting to risk waking her on the walk to her room, he grabbed a throw pillow for himself and a blanket from the back of the couch. He nudged the dog with his feet, but he wouldn’t budge, electing to warm Spencer’s legs instead.

Sometime later he awoke to forehead kisses and fingers brushing back his hair. His eyes fluttered open, and after the sleep fog lifted he broke into a goofy grin that lit up his face.

“Hey!” he whispered. “I didn’t think you were coming back until Sunday!”

McKinley smiled down at him. “I know you meant for me to take Saturday for myself, to relax between the conference and coming home, but I couldn’t do it, so I caught an earlier flight.” She glanced at Sophie, barely visible under the blanket and snoring into Spencer’s neck. “Let’s put this one to bed, then we can talk,” she murmured, carefully removing their daughter’s glasses.

Once she was snuggled up with her stuffed dinosaur, they made their way to the master suite. McKinley rolled her suitcase to the foot of the bed. It could wait until morning. “So, I enjoyed Chicago,” she began, rummaging for pajamas, “but I was lonely away from you three, sleeping by myse-”

Her explanation got cut short when a pair of arms ­­­turned her around and squeezed her tightly. Ah, a legendary Spencer hug. He followed with a soft kiss on her lips – not a sexy times kiss, but a sweet, simple, ‘I love you’ one.

McKinley giggled into Spencer’s mouth. “Miss me?”

He held her face in his hands. “You have no idea,” he breathed, gazing so intensely she feared she’d melt.

“Careful. If you keep staring at me that way, we’ll end up with baby number three,” she joked.

“It’s not that, I…you’re amazing.” She blushed and lowered her eyes. Spencer tilted her head up. “I’m in awe of you. This week was exhausting. Morning and nighttime routines, breakfast and dinner and packed lunches, different pickup and drop-off times, piano and karate lessons, homework, laundry…Only one week of this, plus teaching, and I’m about to collapse. You managed two full-time jobs, alone, for nearly four years. I hope I haven’t taken you for granted.”

McKinley’s jaw dropped. “No, you haven’t,” she replied tearfully. Her eyes floated to the pictures on the vanity: family photos, baby pictures, and one of everybody – the whole team and their families – from a year ago. “Do you regret it?”

“No,” he said without hesitation, “never, not even for a second.”

A month before that picture was taken, flights were grounded in Spokane due to weather, and Spencer had to listen to “Home on the Range” over the phone. He apologized to Sophie later. “It’s okay Daddy,” she answered. “You caught the bad guy. That’s what matters.”

That’s what matters. No. He couldn’t have his kids growing up thinking they were anything less than first in his life. So, he called it. Spencer and McKinley fought and cried in their bathroom, shower and fan running to drown themselves out. She supported him, but knew leaving the BAU for a 9-to-5 would suffocate him.

She proposed a compromise. Now he split his time between Quantico, consulting from Penelope’s bat cave, and giving lectures at the FBI Academy and universities around DC. He came home every night.

“I’m gonna wash the airplane stink off. When I come back, I’m finishing what Sophie started: reading away your sads.”

Spencer pressed his forehead to hers. “How’d you know?”

“Who do you think she practiced with first?” she asked, sauntering towards the bathroom.

“All men are children, and of one family. The same tale sends them all to bed, and wakes them in the morning.” Henry David Thoreau

“An nì chì na big, ‘s e nì na big.” Scottish proverb

“What the little ones see, the little ones do.”

[scotianostra]

July 4th used to be called St Martin of Bullion’s Day, the verse goes…..

Bullion’s Day, gif ye be fair, For forty days ‘twill rain nae mair.

In Scotland, this used to be called St Martin of Bullion’s Day, and the weather which prevailed upon it was supposed to have a prophetic character. It was a proverb, that if the deer rise dry and lie down dry on Bullion’s Day, it was a sign there would be a good gose-harvest – gose being a term for the latter end of summer; hence gose-harvest was an early harvest. It was believed generally over Europe that rain on this day betokened wet weather for the twenty ensuing days.

St. Martin’s day was known on Donside as “Martin Bulg’s Day”; in the Buchan district of Aberdeenshire it is called “Marcabillin’s Day”.

The day is in honour of the translation of the saint’s body to a shrine in the cathedral of Tours and probably came over to Scotland when the Normans arrived.

There are traces of both Martin and Bullion in Scottish topography. In Perthshire there is the parish of St. Martin’s, containing the estate of St. Martin’s Abbey. Some miles to the east is Strathmartin in Forfarshire and not far from it in the same county we find Bullionfield, in the parish of Liff and Benvie. It is probable that these names are in some way connected together.

In most respects, St Martin of Bullion’s Day, is very much like St. Swithun’s Day, which is only 8 days away.

The pic shows the ruins of St. Martin’s Kirk in Haddington.

[yokefellows]

Instant Obedience

Today's Saying

Danger and delight grow on one stalk.

Scottish Proverb

Today's Scripture

The wise are cautious and avoid danger; fools plunge ahead with reckless confidence. Proverbs 14:16

Today's Sermonette

A family visited with friends in a tropical country.

In the midst of a seemingly peaceful moment, the kids playing and the adults conversing casually, the father who called this exotic island his home suddenly stood up and shouted to his son, “Hit the ground!”

The son did so immediately, crouching under the large tree nearby.

The visiting family was shocked at the father’s tone and the son’s instant obedience.

Then they learned that the father saw a poisonous snake hanging from the tree that was close to striking him. The father’s quick reaction and the boy’s quick obedience saved him.

The child obviously sensed the urgency in his father’s voice and facial expression. But he also had an implicit trust in his dad’s judgment and instructions.

We ought always to have the same trust in our Heavenly Father’s commandments. They are always for our good and protection.

Today's Supplication

Father, help me to know Your commandments and obey them without question. Amen.

[leonbloder]

Confession Is Good For The Soul

The other day I came across an old aphorism that I've heard or read a thousand times or more over the course of my life, and that many people assume comes from the Bible, which it doesn't.  Here it is:

Confession is good for the soul.

My curiosity got the best of me, so I decided to find out where it came from, but soon discovered that the exact origins are hard to trace.  

The best guess is that it came from an old Scottish proverb, and the originator most likely used as inspiration some of the many verses in the  Bible about confessing one's sin and finding peace as a result.

Like this one or example that comes from Peter's sermon in Acts:  

Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord. - Acts 3:19

Interestingly, the word "confession" in the New Testament has its origins in the Greek word homologeo, which means to "agree or to speak the same thing" and also "not to deny."  

Further, the word for "sin" in the New Testament is hamartia, which means "to miss the mark, or to fall short."  

So confession, as it relates to God, is simply this:  We are acknowledging to ourselves and to God all of the ways that we have strained our relationship with God and others--the ways that we have fallen short of being the people God longs for us to be.

When we confess this, we are speaking of things (agreeing with) of which God has intimate knowledge.  In other words, God knows us and knows our weaknesses and frailty.  But confession is a way for us to finally let go of our own pride and say, "God, I  agree with what you already know to be true about me."  

And then we will find ourselves open to receive the grace that was already there for us before the words even left our mouths.  

Poet and author Padraig O'Tuama wrote an amazing reflection on the moment when Jesus and Peter have an exchange after Jesus' resurrection.  

The resurrected Jesus meets the disciples on the beach of the Sea of Galilee after a miraculous catch of fish, and Peter swims to the shore to see him.  Keep in mind, Peter is feeling the weight of his denial of Jesus on the night before Jesus was crucified.  

Jesus keeps asking Peter, "Do you love me?" And Peter responds, "Of course I love you!" even though he uses a different word for "love" than Jesus when he does--most likely an attempt to mitigate his response.

And then there's this wonderful interpretation of what happens next:

After he asks the third time whether Peter loves him, Peter says, "Lord you know everything.”

O'Tuama offers this as an explanation to Peter's third response:  

I don't read this as a declaration of omniscience.  I think he's saying, "I know you know I've [messed] it up." and I think Jesus is saying, "Alleluia."

O'Tuama used a different word than the one I chose, but you get the idea.  

I absolutely love this way of seeing that exchange and the grace that flows when Peter is finally honest enough to be in agreement with what Jesus already knows about him.

This is our way forward from the weight of guilt and shame.  It's our way forward from a life filled with the denial of God's grace for us.  

It's a way forward for us where we admit what God already knows about us, and realize that God loves us beyond all ideas of love that we might have.

And our tortured souls can rest in that knowledge and be at peace.

May you discover the courage to be vulnerable enough to confess, and may you know just how good it is for your soul.  May you discover anew the grace of God that falls fresh upon you every moment of every day.

And may the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you now and always. Amen.