Friday, 29 December 2017
Thursday, 28 December 2017
Where have all the flowers gone? By Pete Seeger
Where
have all the flowers gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the flowers gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the flowers gone?
Girls have picked them everyone
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
Where
have all the young girls gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the young girls gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the young girls gone?
Gone to young men every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
Where
have all the young men gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the young men gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the young men gone?
Gone for soldiers every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
Where
have all the soldiers gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the soldiers gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the soldiers gone?
Gone to graveyards everyone
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
Where
have all the graveyards gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the graveyards gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the graveyards gone?
Gone to flowers every one
When will we ever learn?
When will we ever learn?
Wednesday, 27 December 2017
A HOUND, A TUP AND A PEEWIT
There is a story that many years after the death of the
great Ludwig Van Beethoven, a group of music students from the university
visited his former residence. At that time many of his possessions had been
preserved. The students were allowed to view the varied objects on display and
even sit at his piano. One student, a rather bold young man asked to play a few
notes and the curator allowed him to do so.
Another student asked if any famous people had visited the
residence and the curator informed them that the young Johannes Brahms had
visited only the month before. The student sitting at the piano asked,
"What Beethoven piece did the great Brahms play?"
"He did not play," was the answer. "Brahms
declined our invitation, saying he was unfit to touch the same keys as the
master Beethoven."
Not all will understand my words but some will know the
jackal that guards the cave. Some will know that a ram is hidden within a crown
of thorns but perhaps many more will follow the lapwing.
Sunday, 3 December 2017
GOD BLESS YE MERRY GENTLEMEN © 2017
God bless ye merry gentlemen,
Christmas, not far away.
Yet the world is not what we know,
The world is lacking much today.
Where is the joy and happiness?
Where is the helping hand?
Have we forgotten our Humanity?
Have we forgotten all we planned?
Deck the halls with boughs of holly,
But let the homeless starve.
Pray for those that are unholy,
While the turkey you do carve.
Sunday, 19 November 2017
The Appreciation of Black Cats
In
any diary or calendar one will find, spaced rather unevenly throughout the
year, International Days and Days of Appreciation. These days set aside to
encourage us to remember groups within our society, many appear rather peculiar
in focus, while some have a rather obvious historical or political function.
International
Women’s Day is the 8th of March and International Men’s Day was originally
observed on the day following, the 9th of March. Today many countries have for
some unknown reason, moved that observance to the 19th of November. The
International Day of Happiness is the 20th of March, International Children’s
Day is the 1st of June and International Safe Abortion Day is the 28th of
September. International Nurse’s Day is the 12th of May and International
Lefthanders Day is the 13th of August. Yes, really.
There
are an awful lot of these days and each one has a unique history. The origins
of International Women's Day lie in the first stirrings of the Russian Revolution
and one does find that the question; 'What is the point?' to be almost unavoidable.
We can set one day aside in the year to celebrate one particular social group
and Governments can pretend to support it. That isn't going to stop the erosion
of rights, pay reductions, the cutting of holiday or vacation rights. Perhaps it
is every day that needs to be set aside as a day of action.
There
is at the end of October, appropriately falling just a few days before All
Hallows Eve, Black Cat Appreciation Day. As the supposed owner of two black
cats, I find this amusing. What I want to know however, is this. Is there an
International Day set aside, for the appreciation of middle-aged, heterosexual
white Englishmen who wear tweed? Oh yes, that it is my birthday.
I
have always had pets. Since childhood I have shared a home with a pet of some
nature, cats, dogs, rabbits, mice, hamsters, birds or reptiles. Some were
family pets, some were my siblings and some as I grew older, were mine.
Grimalkin
a ginger male died in August 2015, he was 16 years old. Cleopatra a
tortoiseshell female died in January 2016, she may have been only a couple of
years younger than Grimalkin and I did not replace either straightaway. They
were my pets and I miss them both.
On
the 15th of September 2016 a work colleague went into her garage and
found that a stray had littered there, producing five charming kittens. Being
the soft hearted woman that she is, my colleague adopted the mother and took in
the entire litter. Then after a short while, what I have come to call the
black-cat-mail began.
First
there were a few comments at work. Hints that a black kitten or two, would suit
a Pagan who had recently lost his beloved pets. Then came the photographs, taken
on a mobile phone and sent via Facebook, then a video. All were showing a group
of adorable kittens, some black and some not, playing around the house.
It
became increasingly apparent at work when comments such as “I hear you’re
getting a kitten,” were made, that it was assumed I would be taking at least
one. Eventually I agreed to visit the pets, mainly to see if they actually
liked me. Cats will often choose their own human companion.
Meeting
the kittens for the first time, just before Christmas 2016 went well enough,
they were very small and quite charming. So it was agreed that I would take the
two black sisters and they came to live with me on the 30th of December.
All five of the litter had now been homed, shared between the work colleagues
past and present of the original finder.
My
choice of names had been discussed amongst friends but to my surprise, caused a
degree of puzzlement amongst my work colleagues. I had decided to name both kittens
after Goddesses and since one was a domestic longhair, somewhat reminiscent of
a Persian but obviously not with such a long coat, Eastern names suggested
themselves. This sister was almost called Ishtar but I eventually decided on
Tanith. This is a variant spelling of Tanit, an Arabian, Levantine or Mesopotamian
Goddess, often equated with Astarte and in turn, often linked to the Persian
Goddess Ishtar herself.
It
was the chosen name of the other kitten, a domestic short hair, which was
destined to cause bewilderment. From the very moment I saw her, I knew she was
destined to be named not after a Mesopotamian Goddess but an Egyptian one. Her
name is Isis.
Once
named I soon discovered that my choice of names was not at all original,
several friends and acquaintances, either had or knew of people with pets of the
same name. Isis in particular is popular and almost commonplace within the
Pagan environment. Outside of the Pagan community however, the reaction was
quite different.
A
total ignorance of Eastern mythology meant that many had never heard of either
Goddess. This was understandable but thanks to the media, the name Isis was now
equated with a terrorist organisation. I found myself quite surprised at having
to explain the origin of the name, that the Goddess has a documented history of
thousands of years, that her name predates any organisation of the same name. I
have made it quite clear, that I have no intention of renaming my cat, just as
the Fellowship of Isis have no intention of changing their name.
Tanith
and Isis are just over a year old now, growing, playing and eating. I have grown
to know them and they have perhaps, grown to know me. I have a furry alarm
clock that like my previous cats, fails to comprehend that I do not have to get
up for work every day at the same time.
Certain
aspects of feline behaviour perplex us but I find myself equally confused by descriptions
of feline behaviour that I have no experience of. One of these being the deliberate
act of knocking items off a surface and onto the floor causing breakage. I have
never witnessed this behaviour in any cat I have ever had, not even the males.
I have certainly had my fair share of breakages, caused by accident and the remarkable
clumsiness shown by a usually graceful species.
Having
two black cats has brought other matters to mind. The association of the cat,
particularly those that are black, with witchcraft and the occult. This is so
obviously apparent when looking at popular superstitions, that allegedly cats
were a witch’s familiar. Although it should be noted that a familiar is so much
more than a pet, the definitions of such are perhaps fluid.
One
such superstition, contradictory when viewed from either side of the Atlantic,
is based upon this association with witches and witchcraft. Here in Britain the
black cat is predominantly regarded as lucky and the white cat is sometimes
perceived as unlucky. In the United States of America, this belief is
completely reversed.
Due
perhaps to global communication, the web, books, film and others forms of entertainment;
the belief that black cats may be unlucky has crossed the Atlantic. Far worse
however, is the peculiar persecution of black cats. Historically cats were
persecuted in Europe, hunted by packs of dogs and burnt in the strange belief
that their cries caused pain to the Prince of Darkness.
Tragically,
within the past few years and primarily in the United States of America, the physical
persecution and torment of black cats has been documented. Animals have been
killed in a variety of brutal and horrific ways by members of minority Christian
groups, believing that black cats are inherently evil creatures. I cannot understand
this inhuman behaviour but I can observe that it is an aberration, a behaviour at
odds with modern Christianity and disowned by the mainstream churches.
The
presence of Tanith and Isis in my life brings joy and worry. I baby them, I
call them my children and yes, I do talk to them. Occasionally they bring a
gift or a toy inside to play with. A branch and the occasional dead mouse is
bearable. Finding a mauled but still breathing pigeon behind the curtains is far
from ideal. I would prefer not to have living prey deposited behind the
furniture.
To
me black cats are and always will be, regarded as lucky. Their association with
the Craft makes them my ideal pet, even if having one or two, is unoriginal and
rather predictable. They are mysterious and magical creatures that are quite at
home, within my own rather eccentric and magical existence.
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