flew down to say hello
And much to her surprise
he had two mouths for eyes.
Little Bird – Goldfrapp
I've been listening to Goldfrapp's 'Seventh Tree' a lot this past week – mainly because it is very soothing and I need to relax a bit more. These two lines stand out more than any others.
I was at the Ludlow Esoteric Conference again this past weekend – had an absolute hoot with nearly the whole coven there, at one point we had taken over a large part of the Bullring Pub in the middle of town with ourselves and assorted other people we collected. The conference was as good as ever – the book fair was grand, I spent some pennies on nice things – and it seems that was the last one there will be. Gary Nottingham has decided to call it a day with a fine show rather than let it slide into mediocrity. Very brave. Very sad. We shall have to find some other middle England town to invade on a yearly basis and befuddle them with our loud ways and smutty language. Midian Books were there too and I got to chat to the very talented lady who I was banging on about – unashamedly - in the last post. I still havent gotten her name! She is going to send me a digital version of the Horned God/Baphomet picture I was so pleased with so that I can put it up on here and do them both justice.
* * *
So back to this thing I was on about last time I was in bed – here again as it happens – myths. Myths as glue, a socially cohesive construct. Social in far more than the sense of just people and their interaction, supersocial if you like; humans and their interaction with the worlds around them. Preserving surviving myths as a good means of examining the supersocial (new word just for this purpose it seems) activity of our ancestors, but bearing in mind they were a different people living in a different world and that we live in modern times. Neil Gaiman's 'American Gods' is a wonderful examination of the gods and how they have survived in a modern and changing world; Mr Ibis and Mr Jaquel as a perfect example of gods 'evolving' to survive in a world that no longer needs their old skills.
So I think the task we need to take up is to build a new body of mythic literature; the recollection of our interaction with the gods and the landscape. Loose stories woven into a much durable fabric and perhaps with fantasies of relevance to add important nuggets of importance that deserve to be carried on and hunted out by those willing to look beyond them as mere fairy stories. A brief mention of bacon sandwiches on a plate before Mr Jaquel; a passing of mention of someone seeking Blodeuedd scenting lillies on the air or perhaps a recollection of an old forgotten well long forgotten but not lost in the stories of Nodens. We should think of these mew myths as a time capsule, stuffing in all we can in the hope someone is fond of digging in the years to come.
We need t be honest about these myths too, they are modern, they are a new glue, not some hidden myth of long ago that has surfaced and that sheds new light. That is out and out deceit and the type of thing the pagan community struggles with; Wiccans have moved on from the fallacies of it being a stone age cult survival and its time we really put to bed such nonsense like stories of 9 million witches burned (Never again the burning times! or some such shit they cry) or witch groups STILL claiming 20 generations of Hereditary Brythonic Cunning Men (I shit you not, someone out there claims this) We need to build a solid foundation for the future and making a start on a mire is an idiots game.
When writing this new mythos of ours it needs to be new, fresh and relevant and we need to be honest and open about its inception, its origins and its purpose. Honesty and integrity are valuable and very much necessities.
Anyway, more again to come – im in bed again and it is time to sleep.