Monday, 12 November 2012

ARMISTICE 2012



Recently across the web, the dreaded Facebook and even in the more important real world, there has been much discussion over the meaning of Remembrance Sunday and the wearing of poppies, red and white. One possible reason for this focus has been the falling of Armistice Day (the eleventh day of the eleventh month) on Remembrance Sunday (the nearest Sunday to Armistice Day).

The First World War is quite possibly the greatest waste of human life on record, a description I use with qualification. Although more people died in the Second World War (including large numbers of civilians), the First World War had confused origins and reasons.

It is likely that the majority who fought in the First World War had no real idea of what they actually fought for. Whereas in the Second World War the Allies at least recognised the evil of Hitler, whilst many of those that fought for the Axis genuinely believed that they were defending Europe from outside invaders. Such is the confusion of war and there are always two sides to every argument.

The unfinished business that was left over following the so called ‘Great War’ and the inequalities of the Armistice that followed were even at the time, regarded as a danger to peace in the future. Both ultimately formed an important cause behind the ‘march to war’ in the thirties and some historians have described the wars as round one and round two, of a European civil war that accidentally went global. Without the First World War there could never have been a Second.

In two years time it will be the centenary of the start of the ‘Great War’ and I wonder how we will observe that anniversary. The next time Armistice Day will fall once again on Remembrance Sunday will be the 11th of November 2018, precisely marking the centenary of the ending of the 'Great War' itself. How will that be commemorated?

The responsibility for unjustifiable conflicts, fought on the basis of lies and greed, belongs with the political elites. We should remember the dead of both sides. We should remember that the average solder in both World Wars and in conflicts before (we always forget those wars) and since, including current wars that have certainly not ended, is just doing his or her job.

The eleventh of November is as many will know, All Hallows Eve under the Julian (the pre-Gregorian) calendar. So for many Pagans and Craft folk, this is a time for honouring the ancestors. This beggars the question, what exactly are we remembering so long after these two earth shaking historical periods? Events that highlighted both the best and the worst of human nature; bravery, self-sacrifice and community spirit countered by untold atrocities, war-crimes (committed by both sides) and mass murder, that even today is almost beyond our understanding.

When we honour our ancestors, when we remember them, are we remembering only those of our blood or are we perhaps more wide-ranging in our perspectives? Do we remember our spiritual and our cultural ancestors, together with those of our clans? Do we remember both the hero and the criminal created by war? Perhaps some only wish to remember the winner or the ‘good guy;’ because to spare a thought for the murderer and the criminal, would remind us too much of our own darkness. It would remind us of our own failings and our own weaknesses

Yet standing as we are and facing the dark half of the year; should we not face our own human darkness, our frailties and our strengths that make us what we are? When we remember and honour our ancestors of blood and clan, we should remember and honour for good or ill, that part of us that is of them.

© Chattering Magpie 2012

Monday, 5 November 2012

Hallowtide

“We stand between the quick and the dead.
We honour our ancestors, known and unknown.”

Griffith 2011


“Lo, there do I see my Father.
Lo, there do I see my Mother.
And my Sisters and my Brothers.
Lo, there do I see the line of my people back to the beginning.
They do bid me to take my place among them.”

Crichton M. (1976) Eaters of the dead. Knopf.

Monday, 22 October 2012

“Riders on the Storm” The Doors


 Luis Ricardo Falero 1880

Riders on the storm.
Riders on the storm.
Into this house were born.
Into this world were thrown.
Like a dog without a bone,
An actor out on loan.
Riders on the storm.

Theres a killer on the road,
His brain is squirmin like a toad.
Take a long holiday,
Let your children play.
If ya give this man a ride,
Sweet family will die.
Killer on the road, yeah.

Girl ya gotta love your man.
Girl ya gotta love your man.
Take him by the hand,
Make him understand.
The world on you depends,
Our life will never end.
Gotta love your man, yeah.

Wow!

Riders on the storm.
Riders on the storm.
Into this house were born.
Into this world were thrown.
Like a dog without a bone,
An actor out alone.
Riders on the storm.

Riders on the storm.
Riders on the storm.
Riders on the storm.
Riders on the storm.
Riders on the storm.

"Ghost Riders in the Sky" by Stan Jones ©1948


An old cowboy went riding out one dark and windy day,
Upon a ridge he rested as he went along his way.
When all at once a mighty herd of red eyed cows he saw,
A-plowing through the ragged sky and up the cloudy draw.

Their brands were still on fire and their hooves were made of steel.
Their horns were black and shiny and their hot breath he could feel.
A bolt of fear went through him as they thundered through the sky.
For he saw the Riders coming hard and he heard their mournful cry.

Yippie yi Ohhhhh.
Yippie yi yaaaaay.
Ghost Riders in the sky.

Their faces gaunt, their eyes were blurred, their shirts all soaked with sweat.
He's riding hard to catch that herd but he ain't caught 'em yet.
'Cause they've got to ride forever, on that range up in the sky.
On horses snorting fire, as they ride on hear their cry.

Yippie yi Ohhhhh.
Yippie yi yaaaaay.
Ghost Riders in the sky.

As the riders loped on by him, he heard one call his name;
“If you want to save your soul from Hell, a-riding on our range.
Then cowboy change your ways today or with us you will ride.
Trying to catch the Devil's herd, across these endless skies.”

Yippie yi Ohhhhh.
Yippie yi yaaaaay.
Ghost Riders in the sky.
Ghost Riders in the sky.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mynzbmrtp9I

Sunday, 21 October 2012

A Little Humour for Halloween


This is a true story and it took place only a couple of years ago.

It was a weekend and I was at home preparing my house for our Hallowtide gathering. One of my fellow members of the Hearth of the Turning Wheel was staying the weekend with me and helping to sort out our ritual equipment.

We had amongst this equipment the Hearth totems and one of these is a “haremask,” which is the facial skin of a hare complete with fur and ears. This "mask" was tied to a rabbit skin by leather thronging and looked rather like a glove puppet.

While we were chatting we heard a knock at the door and I, expecting other Hearth members; swung back the front door while remaining hidden behind it, extended my arm with the hare puppet on it and shouted; “Happy Halloween!”

There was complete silence. I stepped out from behind the door expecting to see our other Hearth members but no. Instead I found a Jehovah’s Witness, as white as a sheet.

Sunday, 14 October 2012

William Shakespeare "As You Like It" Act IV Scene 2


Herne the Hunter by George Cruikshank

"What shall he have that kill'd the deer?
His leather skin and horns to wear.
Then sing him home:
(The rest shall bear this burden.)
Take thou no scorn to wear the horn,
It was a crest ere thou wast born.
Thy father's father wore it,
And thy father bore it;
The horn, the horn, the lusty horn,
Is not a thing to laugh to scorn."

Friday, 14 September 2012

Summer is Iccumin in (modern English)


Summer has arrived,
Loudly sing, Cuckoo!
The seed grows and the meadow blooms

And the wood springs anew,
Sing, Cuckoo!

The ewe bleats after the lamb,
The cow lows after the calf.
The bullock stirs, the stag farts,

Merrily sing, Cuckoo!
Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

Well you sing, Cuckoo!
Don't ever you stop now.


Sing Cuckoo now. Sing, Cuckoo!
Sing Cuckoo! Sing Cuckoo now!





Summer is Iccumin in (Middle English)


Sumer is icumen in,
Lhude sing cuccu!
Groweþ sed and bloweþ med
And springþ þe wde nu,
Sing cuccu!


Awe bleteþ after lomb,
Lhouþ after calue cu.
Bulluc sterteþ, bucke uerteþ,
Murie sing cuccu!

Cuccu, cuccu, wel singes þu cuccu;
Ne swik þu nauer nu.


Pes:
Sing cuccu nu. Sing cuccu.
Sing cuccu. Sing cuccu nu!