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brookstonalmanac · 1 month

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Holidays 3.20

Holidays

Alien Abduction Day

American Diabetes Association Alert Day

Atheist Pride Day [also 6.20]

Bibliomania Day

Big Bird Day

Chicka Chicka Boom Boom Day

Culture Day and Creative Intelligentsia Day (Tajikistan)

Dibber Day (French Republic)

Dogs in Yellow Day

Durham Day (UK)

Extraterrestrial Abductions Day

Festival of Extraterrestrial Abductions

French Language Day (a.k.a. International Francophonie Day; UN)

Ghode Jatra (Horse Festival; Nepal)

Global Message Makes Me Happy & Healthy Day

Great British Spring Clean Day (UK)

Hufflepuff Pride Day

International Astrology Day

International Day of Happiness (UN)

International Francophonie Day

Kiss Your Fiancé Day

Lajos Kossuth Day (Hungary)

Legba Zaou (Haiti)

Li-Fraumeni Syndrome Awareness Day

Macaron Day NYC

Mesopotamian/Sumerian Grain Festival (Honoring Ashnan)

Minion Day (Japan)

Mister Rogers Day

National Arts Advocacy Day

National Backyard Bird Photography Day

National Cherry Blossom Festival begins (Washington DC)

National Day of Italian Universities Day (Italy)

National Native HIV/AIDS Awareness Day

National Jump Out! Day

National Marketing Day

National Plagiocephaly & Torticollis Awareness Day

National Vanessa Day

National Westie Day

Oil Nationalization Day (Iran)

Pigeons Return to City-County Building (Ft. Wayne, Indiana)

P320 Day

Smile Rejuvenation Day

Very Hungary Caterpillar Day

Won't You Be My Neighbor? Day

Won’t You Wear a Sweater Day

World Behavior Analysis Day

World Day of Theater for Children and Young People

World Frog Day

World Head Injury Awareness Day

World NIDCAP Day

World Oral Health Day

World Rewinding Day

World Rights to Water Day

World Sparrow Day

Zipper Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Bock Beer Day (New York) [also 2nd Monday]

Crawfish Cravers Awareness Day

Macaron Day

National Ravioli Day

World Flour Day

3rd Wednesday in March

Engineer’s Day (Belgium; Netherlands) [3rd Wednesday]

Kick Butts Day [3rd Wednesday]

National Carry Out Day (a.k.a. Carry Out Wednesday) [3rd Wednesday]

National Dietician’s Day (Canada) [3rd Wednesday]

National SBDC Day [3rd Wednesday]

Small Business Development Day [3rd Wednesday]

Independence & Related Days

Blackland (a.k.a. Kingdom of Blackland; Declared; 2015) [unrecognized]

Conzorica (a.k.a. Federal Republics of Conzorica; Declared; 2014)

Kirkuk Liberation Day (Iraqi Kurdistan)

Otango Province Anniversary (New Zealand)

Qootärlænt (Declared; 2008) [unrecognized]

Rezaxia (Declared; 2020) [unrecognized]

Tunisia (from France, 1956)

New Year’s Days

Baha’i New Year

Nowruz (New Year) [Day 1, Around Spring Equinox] (a.k.a. ...

Bahá'í Naw-Rúz (Bahá'í)

Naruz (Afghan New Year)

Navruz (Tajikistan, Ukbekistan)

Norooz (Iran)

Novruz Bairam (a.k.a. Persian New Year; Azerbaijan)

Nowrūz (Persian, Gilaki, Kurdish, Zoroastrians; California)

Rosicrucian New Year

Festivals Beginning March 20, 2024

Jazz & Rhythms Festival (San Cristóbal de las Casas, Mexico) [thru 3.24]

Melbourne International Flower & Garden Show (Melbourne, Australia) [thru 3.24]

National Cherry Blossom Festival (Washington, DC) [thru 4.14]

Trans-Siberian Art Festival (Novosibirsk, Russia) [thru 4.7]

Feast Days

Alexandra (Christian; Saint)

Apple Magic Day (For Norse Goddess Idunn; Starza Pagan Book of Days)

Big Bird (Muppetism)

Blessed John of Parma (Christian; Saint)

Clement of Ireland (Christian; Saint)

Cuthbert of Lindisfarne (Christian; Saint) [maltsters]

Day Sacred to the Goddess Fortuna, the Morrigan, the Norns, the Three Fates, and the Three Mothers (Lakshmi, Parvati, and Sarasvati)

Edward Poynter (Artology)

Extraterrestrial Abductions Day (Pastafarian)

Feast of the Supreme Ritual (Thelema)

Festival For Driving Out All Evils (Inca)

Festival of Isis (Ancient Egypt)

George Caleb Bingham (Artology)

Henrik Ibsen (Writerism)

Herbert of Derwentwater (Christian; Saint)

John Lavery (Artology)

John of Nepomuk (Christian; Saint)

Józef Bilczewski (Christian; Saint)

María Josefa Sancho de Guerra (Christian; Saint)

Martin of Braga (Christian; Saint)

The Martyrs of Mar Saba (Christian; Martyrs)

Michele Carcano (Christian; Saint)

Philo of Alexandria (Positivist; Saint)

Photina and Her Companions (Christian; Martyrs)

Quinquatria, Day 2: Wrestling Day (Pagan)

Spring Harvest Festival (Ancient Egypt; Everyday Wicca)

Wulfram (Christian; Saint)

Xena Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Zagmuk (Festival celebrating the Resurrection of Marduk)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Prime Number Day: 79 [22 of 72]

Shakku (赤口 Japan) [Bad luck all day, except at noon.]

Very Unlucky Day (Grafton’s Manual of 1565) [17 of 60]

Premieres

After Hours, by The Weekend (Album; 2020)

Armchair Apocrypha, by Andrew Bird (Album; 2007)

Avalanche is Better None or Snows You Old Man (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S1, Ep. 33; 1960)

Back Off Boogaloo, recorded by Ringo Starr (Song; 1972)

Basic Instinct (Film; 1992)

Below Zero Heroes or I Only Have Ice for You (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S1, Ep. 34; 1960)

The Book of Thoth (Egyptian Tarot), by Aleister Crowley (Tarot Book; 1944)

Bosko’s Easter Eggs (Happy Harmonies Cartoon; 1937)

Both Sides Now, by Joni Mitchell (Album; 2000)

Cannibal Capers (Disney Silly Symphony Cartoon; 1930)

The Cats Bah (WB LT Cartoon; 1954)

Dumb-Hounded (Droopy MGM Cartoon; 1943)

Duplicity (Film; 2009)

Fractured Friendship (Chilly Willy & Woody Woodpecker Cartoon; 1965)

Hollywood Shuffle (Film; 1987)

Hothouse, by Brian W. Aldiss (Novel; 1962)

I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got, by Sinead O’Connor (Album; 1990)

I Love You, Man (Film; 2009)

The Impossible Possum, featuring Barney Bear (MGM Cartoon; 1954)

Insurgent (Film; 2015)

Knowing (Film; 2009)

Lady Chatterly’s Lover, by D.H. Lawrence (Novel; 1928)

Man of La Mancha (Broadway Musical; 1965)

Meet the Temptations, by The Temptations (Album; 1964)

Neptune Nonsense (Rainbow Parade Cartoon; 1936)

Newman Laugh-O-Grams (Disney Cartoon; 1921)

Noises Off (Film; 1992)

Off to China (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1936)

The Pink Panther (Film; 1964)

The Postman Always Rings Twice (Film; 1981)

The Romance of Betty Boop (Animated TV Film; 1985)

The Scarlet Letter, by Nathaniel Hawthorne (Novel; 1850)

Sham Battle Shenanigans (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1942)

Straight, No Chaser, by Thelonious Monk (Album; 1967)

Symphony Hour (Disney Cartoon; 1942)

Top Cat and the Beverly Hills Cats (Hanna-Barbera Animated TV Film; 1988)

Uncle Tom’s Cabin, by Harriet Beecher Stowe (Novel; 1857)

Wacky Quacky (Phantasies Cartoon; 1947)

What Price Fleadom (MGM Cartoon; 1948)

Wild Things (Film; 1998)

Ye Olde Songs, featuring Farmer Al Falfa (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1932)

Zen in the Art of Archery, by Eugen Herrigel (Philosophy Book; 1948)

Zombeavers (Film; 2015)

Today’s Name Days

Claudia, Wolfram (Austria)

Ivan, Nicet, Pavao (Croatia)

Světlana (Czech Republic)

Gordius (Denmark)

Malve, Malvi, Malviine (Estonia)

Aki, Jaakkima, Joakim, Jooa, Kim, Kimi (Finland)

Herbert, Printemps (France)

Claudia, Wolfram (Germany)

Claudia, Rodi, Rodianos (Greece)

Klaudia (Hungary)

Alessandra,, Claudia (Italy)

Irbe, Made, Magda, Magdalēna (Latvia)

Filomenas, Imgarda, Irma, Tautvilė, Žygimantas (Lithuania)

Joakim, Kim (Norway)

Aleksander, Aleksandra, Ambroży, Anatol, Bogusław, Cyriaka, Eufemia, Klaudia, Patrycjusz, Ruprecht, Wasyl, Wincenty (Poland)

Víťazoslav (Slovakia)

Alejandra, Daniel, Martín (Spain)

Joakim, Kim (Sweden)

Dillan, Dillion, Dillon, Drew, Dru, Dylan, Dylon (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 80 of 2024; 286 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 3 of week 12 of 2024

Celtic Tree Calendar: Fearn (Alder) [Day 4 of 28]

Chinese: Month 2 (Ding-Mao), Day 11 (Guy-Wei)

Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025)

Hebrew: 10 Adair II 5784

Islamic: 10 Ramadan 1445

J Cal: 20 Green; Sixday [20 of 30]

Julian: 7 March 2024

Moon: 82%: Waxing Gibbous

Positivist: 24 Aristotle (3rd Month) [John the Evangelist]

Runic Half Month: Beore (Birch Tree) [Day 11 of 15]

Season: Spring (Day 2 of 92)

Week: 3rd Week of March

Zodiac: Pisces (Day 31 of 31)

#Holidays

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brookston · 1 month

Text

Holidays 3.20

Holidays

Alien Abduction Day

American Diabetes Association Alert Day

Atheist Pride Day [also 6.20]

Bibliomania Day

Big Bird Day

Chicka Chicka Boom Boom Day

Culture Day and Creative Intelligentsia Day (Tajikistan)

Dibber Day (French Republic)

Dogs in Yellow Day

Durham Day (UK)

Extraterrestrial Abductions Day

Festival of Extraterrestrial Abductions

French Language Day (a.k.a. International Francophonie Day; UN)

Ghode Jatra (Horse Festival; Nepal)

Global Message Makes Me Happy & Healthy Day

Great British Spring Clean Day (UK)

Hufflepuff Pride Day

International Astrology Day

International Day of Happiness (UN)

International Francophonie Day

Kiss Your Fiancé Day

Lajos Kossuth Day (Hungary)

Legba Zaou (Haiti)

Li-Fraumeni Syndrome Awareness Day

Macaron Day NYC

Mesopotamian/Sumerian Grain Festival (Honoring Ashnan)

Minion Day (Japan)

Mister Rogers Day

National Arts Advocacy Day

National Backyard Bird Photography Day

National Cherry Blossom Festival begins (Washington DC)

National Day of Italian Universities Day (Italy)

National Native HIV/AIDS Awareness Day

National Jump Out! Day

National Marketing Day

National Plagiocephaly & Torticollis Awareness Day

National Vanessa Day

National Westie Day

Oil Nationalization Day (Iran)

Pigeons Return to City-County Building (Ft. Wayne, Indiana)

P320 Day

Smile Rejuvenation Day

Very Hungary Caterpillar Day

Won't You Be My Neighbor? Day

Won’t You Wear a Sweater Day

World Behavior Analysis Day

World Day of Theater for Children and Young People

World Frog Day

World Head Injury Awareness Day

World NIDCAP Day

World Oral Health Day

World Rewinding Day

World Rights to Water Day

World Sparrow Day

Zipper Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Bock Beer Day (New York) [also 2nd Monday]

Crawfish Cravers Awareness Day

Macaron Day

National Ravioli Day

World Flour Day

3rd Wednesday in March

Engineer’s Day (Belgium; Netherlands) [3rd Wednesday]

Kick Butts Day [3rd Wednesday]

National Carry Out Day (a.k.a. Carry Out Wednesday) [3rd Wednesday]

National Dietician’s Day (Canada) [3rd Wednesday]

National SBDC Day [3rd Wednesday]

Small Business Development Day [3rd Wednesday]

Independence & Related Days

Blackland (a.k.a. Kingdom of Blackland; Declared; 2015) [unrecognized]

Conzorica (a.k.a. Federal Republics of Conzorica; Declared; 2014)

Kirkuk Liberation Day (Iraqi Kurdistan)

Otango Province Anniversary (New Zealand)

Qootärlænt (Declared; 2008) [unrecognized]

Rezaxia (Declared; 2020) [unrecognized]

Tunisia (from France, 1956)

New Year’s Days

Baha’i New Year

Nowruz (New Year) [Day 1, Around Spring Equinox] (a.k.a. ...

Bahá'í Naw-Rúz (Bahá'í)

Naruz (Afghan New Year)

Navruz (Tajikistan, Ukbekistan)

Norooz (Iran)

Novruz Bairam (a.k.a. Persian New Year; Azerbaijan)

Nowrūz (Persian, Gilaki, Kurdish, Zoroastrians; California)

Rosicrucian New Year

Festivals Beginning March 20, 2024

Jazz & Rhythms Festival (San Cristóbal de las Casas, Mexico) [thru 3.24]

Melbourne International Flower & Garden Show (Melbourne, Australia) [thru 3.24]

National Cherry Blossom Festival (Washington, DC) [thru 4.14]

Trans-Siberian Art Festival (Novosibirsk, Russia) [thru 4.7]

Feast Days

Alexandra (Christian; Saint)

Apple Magic Day (For Norse Goddess Idunn; Starza Pagan Book of Days)

Big Bird (Muppetism)

Blessed John of Parma (Christian; Saint)

Clement of Ireland (Christian; Saint)

Cuthbert of Lindisfarne (Christian; Saint) [maltsters]

Day Sacred to the Goddess Fortuna, the Morrigan, the Norns, the Three Fates, and the Three Mothers (Lakshmi, Parvati, and Sarasvati)

Edward Poynter (Artology)

Extraterrestrial Abductions Day (Pastafarian)

Feast of the Supreme Ritual (Thelema)

Festival For Driving Out All Evils (Inca)

Festival of Isis (Ancient Egypt)

George Caleb Bingham (Artology)

Henrik Ibsen (Writerism)

Herbert of Derwentwater (Christian; Saint)

John Lavery (Artology)

John of Nepomuk (Christian; Saint)

Józef Bilczewski (Christian; Saint)

María Josefa Sancho de Guerra (Christian; Saint)

Martin of Braga (Christian; Saint)

The Martyrs of Mar Saba (Christian; Martyrs)

Michele Carcano (Christian; Saint)

Philo of Alexandria (Positivist; Saint)

Photina and Her Companions (Christian; Martyrs)

Quinquatria, Day 2: Wrestling Day (Pagan)

Spring Harvest Festival (Ancient Egypt; Everyday Wicca)

Wulfram (Christian; Saint)

Xena Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Zagmuk (Festival celebrating the Resurrection of Marduk)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Prime Number Day: 79 [22 of 72]

Shakku (赤口 Japan) [Bad luck all day, except at noon.]

Very Unlucky Day (Grafton’s Manual of 1565) [17 of 60]

Premieres

After Hours, by The Weekend (Album; 2020)

Armchair Apocrypha, by Andrew Bird (Album; 2007)

Avalanche is Better None or Snows You Old Man (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S1, Ep. 33; 1960)

Back Off Boogaloo, recorded by Ringo Starr (Song; 1972)

Basic Instinct (Film; 1992)

Below Zero Heroes or I Only Have Ice for You (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S1, Ep. 34; 1960)

The Book of Thoth (Egyptian Tarot), by Aleister Crowley (Tarot Book; 1944)

Bosko’s Easter Eggs (Happy Harmonies Cartoon; 1937)

Both Sides Now, by Joni Mitchell (Album; 2000)

Cannibal Capers (Disney Silly Symphony Cartoon; 1930)

The Cats Bah (WB LT Cartoon; 1954)

Dumb-Hounded (Droopy MGM Cartoon; 1943)

Duplicity (Film; 2009)

Fractured Friendship (Chilly Willy & Woody Woodpecker Cartoon; 1965)

Hollywood Shuffle (Film; 1987)

Hothouse, by Brian W. Aldiss (Novel; 1962)

I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got, by Sinead O’Connor (Album; 1990)

I Love You, Man (Film; 2009)

The Impossible Possum, featuring Barney Bear (MGM Cartoon; 1954)

Insurgent (Film; 2015)

Knowing (Film; 2009)

Lady Chatterly’s Lover, by D.H. Lawrence (Novel; 1928)

Man of La Mancha (Broadway Musical; 1965)

Meet the Temptations, by The Temptations (Album; 1964)

Neptune Nonsense (Rainbow Parade Cartoon; 1936)

Newman Laugh-O-Grams (Disney Cartoon; 1921)

Noises Off (Film; 1992)

Off to China (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1936)

The Pink Panther (Film; 1964)

The Postman Always Rings Twice (Film; 1981)

The Romance of Betty Boop (Animated TV Film; 1985)

The Scarlet Letter, by Nathaniel Hawthorne (Novel; 1850)

Sham Battle Shenanigans (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1942)

Straight, No Chaser, by Thelonious Monk (Album; 1967)

Symphony Hour (Disney Cartoon; 1942)

Top Cat and the Beverly Hills Cats (Hanna-Barbera Animated TV Film; 1988)

Uncle Tom’s Cabin, by Harriet Beecher Stowe (Novel; 1857)

Wacky Quacky (Phantasies Cartoon; 1947)

What Price Fleadom (MGM Cartoon; 1948)

Wild Things (Film; 1998)

Ye Olde Songs, featuring Farmer Al Falfa (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1932)

Zen in the Art of Archery, by Eugen Herrigel (Philosophy Book; 1948)

Zombeavers (Film; 2015)

Today’s Name Days

Claudia, Wolfram (Austria)

Ivan, Nicet, Pavao (Croatia)

Světlana (Czech Republic)

Gordius (Denmark)

Malve, Malvi, Malviine (Estonia)

Aki, Jaakkima, Joakim, Jooa, Kim, Kimi (Finland)

Herbert, Printemps (France)

Claudia, Wolfram (Germany)

Claudia, Rodi, Rodianos (Greece)

Klaudia (Hungary)

Alessandra,, Claudia (Italy)

Irbe, Made, Magda, Magdalēna (Latvia)

Filomenas, Imgarda, Irma, Tautvilė, Žygimantas (Lithuania)

Joakim, Kim (Norway)

Aleksander, Aleksandra, Ambroży, Anatol, Bogusław, Cyriaka, Eufemia, Klaudia, Patrycjusz, Ruprecht, Wasyl, Wincenty (Poland)

Víťazoslav (Slovakia)

Alejandra, Daniel, Martín (Spain)

Joakim, Kim (Sweden)

Dillan, Dillion, Dillon, Drew, Dru, Dylan, Dylon (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 80 of 2024; 286 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 3 of week 12 of 2024

Celtic Tree Calendar: Fearn (Alder) [Day 4 of 28]

Chinese: Month 2 (Ding-Mao), Day 11 (Guy-Wei)

Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025)

Hebrew: 10 Adair II 5784

Islamic: 10 Ramadan 1445

J Cal: 20 Green; Sixday [20 of 30]

Julian: 7 March 2024

Moon: 82%: Waxing Gibbous

Positivist: 24 Aristotle (3rd Month) [John the Evangelist]

Runic Half Month: Beore (Birch Tree) [Day 11 of 15]

Season: Spring (Day 2 of 92)

Week: 3rd Week of March

Zodiac: Pisces (Day 31 of 31)

#calendar #Holidays

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filmista · 3 years

Text

The Wicker Man (1973)

“You'll simply never understand the true nature of sacrifice.”

23 years before Nicolas Cage gave one of the most legendary over the top renditions from his – at least on that level – impressive career in the remake (all together: “HOW DID IT GET BURNED?!!”), the original Wicker Man was let loose on an unsuspecting audience.

Unsuspecting, because the film is so bizarre – part horror film, part satire on the sexual revolution, part musical – that no one could predict in advance what they were going to be wathcing. But also painfully unsuspecting because the film was first shortened by 12 minutes by its own producer, Michael Deeley, and then buried in a double bill with Don't Look Now.

Deeley had taken over the British Lion Film Corporation studio while The Wicker Man was already in production. As is often the case with board-level shifts, he wanted to prove that the projects his predecessor had put on the rails were flawed, and he did everything he could to bring The Wicker Man down. It was actor Christopher Lee and B-movie producer Roger Corman who ultimately saved the film.

Lee considered The Wicker Man to be one of his best films and lobbied for the film to reach the public in its original version. Roger Corman had somehow come into possession of a full version of the original film, making it possible to restore The Wicker Man.

Most DVD editions of the film now offer a choice between the director's cut and the theatrical cut by default – although a third cut is also available, longer than the theatrical version and shorter than the director's cut, but featuring footage of the other two editions. It's complicated.

The genesis of this cult film is actually just as fascinating as the film itself – and those who feel like it can discover many more stories: Britt Ekland who was angry because she thought her body double’s butt was too big and so on. But underneath all that, there's still an intelligent, surprisingly witty suspense film that can't be pinned down to a single genre or style. Okay, it sporadically leans over towards the absurd and it's sometimes hard to judge when the movie is intentionally funny and when by accident. But that can sometimes happen when you dare to take risks with your film. The Wicker Man is full of bold choices.

The plot revolves around the Puritan, extremely religious and even virginal (he waits until he is married) Police Inspector Howie (Edward Woodward), who is sent to the secluded island of Summerisle to investigate the disappearance of a young girl. The islanders are friendly on the surface, but at the same time it’s clear that they don’t appreciate the presence of outsiders.

As Howie investigates the girl's fate, he also becomes acquainted with their free-spirited way of life, which is rife with folklore: sex is not only discussed openly, but often practiced en pleine publique and pagan rituals are the order of the day. The conservative inspector soon has a hard time: he feels threatened from all sides, but in the meantime cannot deny that his collar is starting to tighten at the advances of the lascivious daughter of the innkeeper (Britt Ekland).

Released in 1973, The Wicker Man is definitely a product of its time: the swinging sixties were over, the country was in a deep economic depression, and people were making a predictable turn toward conservatism – economically, but also morally and sexually. The prevailing ethics mainly concentrated on working, doing your bit and not complaining and above all not deviating from the status quo.

That is the conflict that The Wicker Man is fundamentally about: the establishment clashing with a sexually liberal subculture and not being able to deal with it. In practice, this takes the form of a clash between two religions: Howie's strict Church of England Christianity and the village's pagan faith. The more Howie feels cornered by the villagers, the more he returns to the rituals of his own faith: praying, using crucifixes, making crosses. But he finds less and less solace in it.

Director Robin Hardy and screenwriter Anthony Schaffer boldly throw different genres into a blender: the main plot line is a traditional whodunit. The way in which the threat is subtly presented is reminiscent of an – albeit very restrained – horror film.

But at the same time there is also a lot of humor in it, and a number of songs. As a fully-fledged pagan community, music plays an important role in Summerisle's rituals, meaning that Christopher Lee, who plays Lord Summerisle, the island's governor, suddenly gets to sing a song towards the end as the film's climax takes place.

That combination of elements is absolutely ballsy, even if it doesn't always turn out well. The sudden changes in tone make it difficult to get completely carried away by the story and no, you aren’t a childish teenager at all if you involuntarily chuckle at Britt Ekland's naked dance of seduction.

Yet The Wicker Man has a strange atmosphere that gradually gets under your skin. The acting is perfectly modulated – especially Edward Woodward's indignant, deeply repress Catholic and Christoper Lee as the ominously slick Lord Summerisle.

Moreover, the last twenty minutes are a textbook example of carefully constructed tension that leads to a truly grotesque finale – a finale that is strictly the same as that of the Nicolas Cage remake, but at the same time completely different. In the 2006 edition, that ending was pure, laughable camp. Here the same plot twist is genuinely gruesome.

The Wicker Man is inspired and impassioned cinema – okay, it may lump things together that don't really belong together, but it's a beautiful clash of styles and genres that is endlessly fascinating in its imperfection.

@purecinema @mad-prophet-of-the-airwaves

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naughtynecromancer · 4 years

Note

" what is Thanksgiving dinner? " (From Jackson)

She paused, not expecting that question as she tilted her head, considering the answer. “Well, when the first settlers arrived in America and met the Native Americans, you know, before they took them over, killed them, spread disease and just well screwed their whole lives up, supposedly they sat down and had a big turkey dinner to show their thanks ,you know before screwing them over. Americans use that example and make a big meal, do a football game, the oval ball and all the butt touching that one, not soccer, have a big parade. Eve, Dad, and I celebrate, we love the whole cooking and eating together thing. Plus pagan stand point, the whole turkey thing. Its a ritual sacrifice, with pie.” She explained. She had been spending the last four days with the demons three, she was so ready for some companionship over the age of seven. @cariicature-of-intimacy

#Anonymous

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adana-knows · 4 years

Text

My Daily Routine (Imbolc 2020)

I change up my daily routine frequently - I like to shake things up each time a new Sabbat rolls by, sometimes more often if things aren’t working. I should also note that I have a lot of free time at the moment, and the luxury of making my own hours. I have no children or time restraints, other than making sure my boyfriend doesn’t sleep through his work alarm.

My Morning Routine

Wake up. I stretch, grab my glasses, climb out the bed, and head to the bathroom.

Kitty Care. It’s time to feed the cats and re-fill their water fountain. I also take this time to do a quick scoop of their litter boxes.

Unload the Dishwasher. After I wash my hands, I then take a moment to unload the dishwasher, and to load any dishes or glasses left out since the last time I ran it.

Hydration. My goal is to drink more water, but let’s face it: I like sugar. I like tea, and I like soda. If I have either ready-made or on hand, I’ll usually choose that over water in the morning, but I do make an effort to drink at least a couple glasses of water every day. This is also when I take my meds and vitamins (B12 and D3).

Bullet Journal. My bullet journal helps me keep track of all kinds of things - cleaning, birthdays, appointments, holidays, sabbats, moon phases. I try to make time for sitting down and figuring out what needs to be done each morning. My goal is to list at least three of the most important tasks that need to be done, and actually do them before the end of the day. It’s also at this time that my cat, Xena, likes to flop down on top of my paper and demand attention, so I’ll pet and groom her at this time.

Read. I spend an hour or so reading and/or researching. Usually this means reading a book that can help build a skill, improve my life, or informs me on a subject, such as paganism, spirituality, minimalism, or witchcraft. If I’m researching a specific topic that I have no books for, then I’ll spend this time Googling, but it’s easy to slip down the deep dark internet hole and not get anything really done on this front.

Movement. It’s winter where I live, and if it’s under 40 F outside, I’m not walking to the gym (which is about a 15-20 minute walk from my home). This means moving at home, usually with some yoga. I like to do Sun Salutations, but if I’m in the mood for something a little extra, I might pop in an Ashley Turner yoga video or follow a video by Yoga with Adrienne on YouTube.

Meditation. My best meditation sessions are always after expending a lot of energy and working up a sweat. I’ll devote about 20 minutes to meditation. I generally don’t do guided meditations unless I’m performing ritual; this is usually just me with my eyes closed.

Self Care. I’ll shower, get dressed, brush my teeth, run a brush through my hair, and spend some time on me. Sometimes this is as simple as shaving my legs, exfoliating, painting my nails, or taking a file to my heels. Other times I’ll try out a new hairstyle, put on a full face of makeup, or give myself a mani-pedi. My goal is to go out of my way and do at least one thing every day to pamper myself that’s not part of my daily routine.

Prayer. This is the cornerstone of my morning ritual, and the reason I do it! What I do depends on the moon phase, but I honor Hestia everyday by lighting a candle and offering a prayer (usually with my prayer beads), giving an offering of water to the ancestors, and burning incense for the Lare. If I’m currently working on a skill, I’ll end my session with a related exercise, and maybe journal about my experience.

Creativity. After a long hot shower, I then do something creative. Sometimes this is doing extra research or reading. Other times I create a new bullet journal spread, color in a coloring book, work on a page in my Book of Shadows, brainstorm ideas for something, or write. While I’m doing this, I like to watch TV or YouTube on a related topic. For example, if I’m working on my bullet journal, I’ll watch YouTube videos of bullet journal layouts and spreads. If I’m working in my Book of Shadows, I’ll watch videos on the topic of paganism. If I’m working on writing, then I’ll put some themed ambient noise on so that I can fully concentrate on what I’m doing. If I’m coloring, doodling, sketching, etc, I might just put on Hulu and catch up with a recent TV show. I’ll do creative work for about an hour.

Brunch. If I have to cook my meal on the stove, I’ll light my Hestia candle, give a prayer, and then cook; when done, I’ll say thanks and extinguish the candle. When I’m ready to eat, I’ll say another prayer to Hestia (because I do a LOT of meal prepping, I can go days without actually needing to cook), give Her an offering of my first and last bite (because She was born first and last) or an offering of cornmeal or grain.

Free Time. From this time to my afternoon routine, I’ll do whatever I feel like. I might play a game, get lost on Pinterest, watch YouTube videos, watch movies, chat on the phone, or work on some project or another.

Afternoon Routine

Honoring Hestia. All acts of cleaning in my home is dedicated to Hestia. I’ll light a candle, say a quick prayer, and leave the candle to burn on my altar while I clean. Sometimes I’ll burn incense as well, depending on my mood and as inspiration strikes.

Open up the apartment. For me, this means cracking open my sliding glass door and let in some fresh air. It’s pretty cold out, so it’s only cracked about an inch or two while I clean.

Dishes. I’ll collect any dishes I’ve dirtied throughout the day, and sweep my boyfriend’s computer area for dishes, glasses and silverware as well. If I skipped unloading the dishwasher in the morning (sometimes I get lazy or distracted), I’ll do it now. No matter how full or not, I’ll run the dishwasher now.

5 Minute Tidy. This is when I spend 5 minutes in every room of my apartment and tidy up. It’s great when I get overwhelmed with how much to do and helps identify the most important mini tasks that need to be done per room; just set a timer and work as quickly as I can until it goes off.

Weekly Cleaning. There are some things that need to be done each and every week, like changing the litter box, scrubbing the toilet, dusting, emptying the refrigerator of leftovers, etc. I keep a detailed list in my bullet journal and track when I do these things. I generally group these tasks by day: Mondays are the bedroom, Tuesdays the bathroom, Wednesdays the kitchen, Thursdays the living room, and Fridays are the hallway and getting done whatever didn’t completed earlier in the week.

Deep Cleaning. There’s also things that need to be done seasonally, like sweeping the ceiling for cobwebs, cleaning underneath and behind the fridge, and tackling the mess that is my cabinets and drawers (they get messy over time). These tend to be tasks that need to be done all over the apartment or are a rather big task, so I’ll do one a day.

Garbage. If there’s garbage that needs to be taken out, I do it. I’ll grab the mail coming back in, and go through that.

Miscellaneous Tasks. If there’s anything I wanted - or need - to get done that doesn’t fit into the above, but was important enough to make it on my daily list in my bullet journal, it gets done now.

Close the Apartment. Close the sliding glass doors to prevent the cats from getting bold enough to try and pop the screen and run outside. Not that they stay out there long when it’s cold. It’s just a pain in the butt having to go out there and retrieve them, especially if they manage to get out of courtyard.

Fragrance. If I didn’t burn incense, then I’ll spray some febreeze around. We have 3 cats and let me tell you - the apartment smells like it in the winter. Opening up the house helps, but it doesn’t get rid of the scent completely. I’ll febreeze my couch and bed with the febreeze for cloth and sheets, and spray scented stuff (usually Glade) around the apartment.

Thank Hestia. I go back to my altar, give a prayer of thanks, and extinguish my Hestia candle. If incense is still going, I’ll let it burn itself out and then clean up the ashes.

The BF Comes Home. Right about now, my boyfriend comes home from work. I’ll take a moment to say hi.

More Free Time!

Evening Routine

Kitty Care. Refill cat bowls for the night. If a bowl is looking kind of gross or needs to be cleaned, this is when I’ll do it (before refilling it).

Dishes. I’ll bring any dishes or glasses left in the living room or around the apartment to the kitchen sink.

Quick Tidy. I tend to make a pretty big mess when I’m in the middle of a project, or when I’m just having a lazy evening, so I’ll take a few minutes to put away books, shelve binders, organize papers, throw pens and pencils into my pencil case, and fluff the pillows on the couch.

Evening Prayer. I don’t do this every evening, usually because I tend to stay up until I start to doze off, and at that point, all I can think of is the bed. But if I can, I’ll go to my altar, say a gratitude prayer to any deities that I’m working with, and clean up any offerings left on the altar. Offering clean up might be postponed to the next morning.

Self Care. I’ll brush my teeth, wash my face, change into pajamas.

Read. If I’m still a little too awake for bed, I might read for 20 minutes to an hour, depending.

Sleep.

#Routine #Daily Routine #Morning Routine #Evening Routine #Afternoon Routine #Cleaning Routine #Prayer #Hestia #Offering

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dancinginthecenteroftheworld · 4 years

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Nov 4: Full Moon (teen pagan girl squad)

It’s freezing cold in the Weirwood grove, and Brienne wishes, just for a minute, that she’d stayed an anti-social loser and never made friends.

She doesn’t really mean it, of course, it’s just a little bit difficult to remember how much she loves her friends when she can’t feel her fingers or her toes.

Sansa is bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Our first full moon together,” she says, beaming.

Arya is next to her, rolling her eyes. The two almost never get along, but the circle is one of the few things Brienne’s seen them agree on. Even if they have different ideas about how exactly it should go.

Shireen is fumbling with her necklace, which Lyanna has been holding for her since her mother is a fundamentalist who would absolutely lose her shit if she found out Shireen was practicing witchcraft in an Weirwood forest.

Ygritte and Meera are lounging around in short jackets, looking for all the world like it’s a brisk fall day. Not close to freezing, windy, and dark. Then again, they grew up in the north. Brienne has only just moved here, and it’s cold. She sends Margaery a miserable glance, and the other girl nods in sympathy.

“What are we going to do?” Talisa asks. Brienne has AP bio with her, but she’s never spoken to Talisa at all. Frankly, Talisa is kind of intimidating, being beautiful and smart and confident.

Then again, Brienne doesn��t know most of the girls here. Besides Sansa and Arya (who she loves, but preferably separately), she mostly only hangs out with Shireen and Lyanna. She’s worked with Gilly on a class project before, and Ygritte and Margaery are fine, or would be if they didn’t terrifying her with how loud and outgoing they are.

It’s Danaerys and Missandei that are making Brienne nervous. They’re some of the most popular girls in school, and Brienne can’t help wonder if they’re up to something. She knows she shouldn’t distrust pretty, popular girls so much, but she can’t help remember all the pranks and jokes she’d been the butt of on Tarth.

It’s a big part of why her dad picked up and moved to the freezing north, because he couldn't stand another day of his daughter coming home from school in tears.

Brienne would probably distrust Sansa and Margaery too, if their parents hadn’t been friends with her dad for ages. They’ve been friends since they could hardly walk, since long before it was clear that Sansa and Margaery were lovely and feminine and Brienne was … not.

“After we cast the circle and call the directions,” Sansa is saying, “I thought we’d do an initiation.”

“An initiation?” Alys asks, looking wary as Arya pulls a large, ornate dagger from a sheath at her side.

Huh. Brienne had thought the sword belt was for show.

“So we can trust each other,” Sansa says and motions for them to join hands.

Brienne finds herself between Gilly and Shireen. She grips their hands, thankful for the warmth and wishing once again she’d worn mittens. They chant together to call the circle, and then some girls volunteer to call the direction. Ygritte “kissed by fire” in the south, Lyanna in the North, Talisa in the East and Missandei in the West (after Brienne studiously avoids Sansa sending pointed looks her way).

Then Arya tosses the dagger from hand to hand before she and Sansa demonstrate the ritual. The dagger passes along the circle, each girl’s words ringing out clearly in the night sky.

“It is better that you should rush upon this blade, than enter the circle with fear in your heart,” Shireen says, facing Brienne and reaching up to hold the point of the dagger to Brienne’s chest. “How do you enter?”

Brienne resists every urge telling her to hunch over and whisper, forcing herself to straighten her back and use a normal voice.

Sansa has been so excited for this, so thrilled to finally have 13 girls. Brienne can’t be the one to ruin it for her.

“With perfect love and perfect trust,” Brienne says, hoping nobody can tell she’s lying.

#november prompts #ficlet #brienne of tarth #sansa stark #margaery tyrell #gilly #alys karstark #talisa maegyr #danaerys targaryen #missandei #lyanna mormont #shireen baratheon #ygritte #meera reed #arya stark #teen pagan au

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raspberry-starship · 2 years

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Start reading the series here.

Masterlist for this book is here.

Read by scrolling up the tag here.

Sadie was behind the wheel, pedal pressed as far down as she could while still being safe. Ren glanced over at her from the passenger side, a nervous look in her eye.

After she and Sadie had changed into more hunting-appropriate attire, they had gone to Delona Mae Faustine’s house. The lights had all been off, and the driveway was empty. Sadie had begun spiraling in the driver’s seat, unsure of where to go from there. A moment had passed when Ren’s eyes had flickered over to the house next-door, where the porch light had been on. With an easy smirk, she’d hopped out of the car, jogging over to ring the bell.

Martha had answered immediately, a big smile on her face. “Agent Healy! How nice to see you again, so soon!”

Ren had beamed, “It’s very nice to see you too, Mrs. Foley. I was wondering if you knew where Delona might go if she wanted to be alone? Maybe somewhere she could preform some kind of ritual?”

“A ritual?” Martha had balked, “Well, I… well, I don’t—I don’t think that I know the answer to that.”

Ren had nodded, becoming a bit nervous that this gambit would not pay off. “Have you heard anything about something strange happening in the woods, like maybe something pagan-y?”

“Oh!” Martha had gasped excitedly, “You know what? I did hear about someone coming across a woman doing a seance or some such in Queen’s Canyon, near the river, I think. I mean, I don’t know that it was Delona, but she was out the day it happened and she is very interested in chakras and things, you know.”

Ren had been unable to completely hide a grin at Martha’s mixing up of all kinds of religions and disciplines of spirituality.

“Thank you, Martha.” Ren had said genuinely, “Thank you so much.”

“Oh, sure—” Martha had stopped as Ren spun on her heel to dash over to the Evo. With a nonchalant blink of surprise, she had recused herself back into her home.

So now, there Sadie and Ren were, racing down a side road near the canyon, looking for any sign of Delona’s car.

“There!” Ren pointed as they turned a corner.

Sadie slammed on the breaks, making them lurch forwards and then back in their chairs. Sure enough, there was a gold sedan parked to the side of the road in front of a break in the guard rail. Sadie didn’t bother pulling the car further off, just slammed the Evo into park and grabbed the keys. She barely even managed to do that before Ren was out of the door, running with her chestnut braid swinging behind her. She reached the opening to the path first.

“Oh, shit it’s steep—!” Ren managed to get out before she slipped on the dirt and then slid down the vertiginous rise on her butt.

“Ren!” Sadie’s eyes widened with fear, and she sped up. Her feet skittered to a halt at the top of the slope to look for her companion. With a deep wince and a hand on her tailbone, Ren stood.

“Oof.” She muttered, turning to give Sadie a thumbs up.

Sadie’s descent was much more graceful and she managed to stay on her feet the whole time. When she got to the bottom, she gave Ren a pat of encouragement. Ren then led the way down a trail that was barely even a footpath, slapping branches out of the way.

“Oh!” She said after a moment, whisper-shouting over her shoulder, “I think I see something—!”

Suddenly, like she’d run face-first into an invisible brick wall, Ren’s whole body went rigid, and she tipped back into Sadie.

“Gah!” Sadie let out a shout of surprise, scrambling to get a good hold on Ren. “What the—?” She stopped herself when she saw Ren’s eyes were closed. “Oh—no, no, no!” Sadie lowered her to the ground, heart racing in her chest. “Ren!?”

Ren’s pulse was steady, but she wouldn’t wake up. Sadie looked from her unconscious companion to where they were heading. There didn’t seem to be any magic that Sadie could see, but she assumed that the witch had put some sort of protective barrier around the site. For a moment, she considered her options.

She decided to drag Ren over to lean against a tree, and promised her silently that she would be back. Slowly, she stood, eyeing the path warily. Taking a deep breath, she began walking forwards. She used so much of her focus looking around to make sure there were no rocks she could hit her head on if she got knocked out too that it took her a second for her to realize that she’d passed the barrier. Her brow furrowed, and she glanced back. Ren was still there, still unconscious. With a confused scowl, she faced forwards again, and peered through the trees. There, she could almost make out the warm glow of a bonfire.

“I have a question.” Delona said to her captive. “What is the girl?”

Sam quirked a brow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The girl.” Delona repeated tiredly, “The one who didn’t come in with you. I could feel the power coming off her. Power like that ought to be tamed.” She wagged a finger as she spoke.

Sam’s face hardened. “You stay away from her.”

“Or what?” Delona taunted.

He leaned forwards, menacing, “Or I’ll kill you.”

“Will you, now?” Delona replied, taking a sarcastic tone of surprise to mock him.

Bitterly, Sam turned his head away. She smiled, studying him for a moment.

“Why did you do it?” Delona cocked her head, “Why did you do what you did to that woman—you’re… partner.”

“Why?” Sam repeated, a frown on his face.

“Yes. I mean, that’s the question we’re all concerned with, isn’t it?” Delona replied.

Sadie approached the tree line, crouching down. Delona was standing beside a boulder where a giant book sat, like some sort of stone lectern. In front of her was a bonfire, across from which was a mildly worse-for-wear and restrained Sam. He also looked pretty annoyed, but that was to be expected. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, and she was struggling to come up with some sort of plan.

“Why did you betray her like that?” Delona didn’t pull any punches. “I know I’ll never be able to ask Serena why, but… maybe hearing your reason will… help.”

“None of this will help, you know that right?” Sam said, “No matter what entities you summon or what history you make, you’re not gonna get closure.”

“You don’t know that.”

Sam heaved a sigh, closing his eyes momentarily before replying. “None of this is gonna make you feel better. Sometimes… sometimes we just hurt and there’s nothing we can do about it. Sometimes all we get is pain.”

“I refuse to accept that.” Delona stared at him for a long, silent moment. “Tell me why you did it.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Sam replied, clearly tired of this.

“I just want you to tell me the truth.” She had a remarkable amount of patience for this line of questioning.

He sighed again, glancing away for a moment. “Fine. …We had this… thing. This thing that we had in common that no one else understood. Something inside that might ruin us someday—something that made us scared of ourselves. And then… then she started to not fear it and that… that felt like a betrayal in some way, I guess. I… I felt like I didn’t know her. I felt like I was losing her.”

Delona cocked her head to the side, and in the underbrush behind her, Sadie finally decided that there was nothing she could do but go in. She stepped out onto the rocky river bed, now visible. Upon seeing her, Sam’s face changed into one of complete disbelief and awe. Delona, seeing his expression, spun around.

“Hi.” Sadie said, stopping a couple yards from them. “Uh… I’m just gonna ask nicely for you to let him go and to wake up my friend who got knocked out by whatever force field you got up around here.”

Delona cocked her head, studying Sadie with a new interest. “It didn’t affect you?”

Sadie shrugged, “Guess not.”

“You’re…” Delona pointed at her, “…you’re a conduit, aren’t you?”

Sadie’s eyes flickered over to Sam’s for a moment, then back to Delona. “Yes, I am.”

“Hm…” Delona nodded slowly, “You know, I’ve read about your kind,” She pointed to the grimoire, “in this. Very interesting beings, conduits.”

“Thanks.” Sadie said flatly, unsure of what other response would be suitable.

“It makes sense.” Delona nodded again, “The protection spell is a pure energy, and it would just move right through you.”

Sadie swallowed, “You don’t have to do this, Delona.”

“Yes, I do!” She replied fiercely, “You of all people should understand that—”

“—No.” Sadie interrupted, “No, I don’t want to hurt the person who hurt me, Delona.”

“But why?!” Delona asked desperately.

“Because an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind! Two wrongs don’t make a right, I mean—!” Sadie let out a huff of exasperation, “—did no one ever teach you that?”

“But it doesn’t bother you?!” Delona replied, pointing harshly to Sam, “Doesn’t the mere sight of him remind you of it?!”

“He isn’t the source of all my problems, Delona! Just like your friend isn’t the source of all yours!” Sadie’s voice cracked, “I am. And I think you are, too. I think we both know that we are. I think… I think we both know that what they said to us meant way too much. I don’t… I don’t need his approval, and you don’t need to feel superior to her.”

“Yes, I do!” Delona shrieked, “I’m so sick of hearing people tell me that I ‘don’t have to do this’! I will never let it go! I will rip her to pieces!” She let out a pitiful sniff, voice very soft now as she added, “Just like she did to me.”

Sadie swallowed. “Then I’m gonna have to stop you.”

Delona’s nose twitched. “I’d like to see you try.”

For a long moment, Delona and Sadie stared at one another, then a timer went off. They all looked to the phone she had on the rock beside her grimoire. Without another word, Delona rushed over, beginning an incantation.

“Delona, stop!” Sadie cried, pulling out her gun. Delona jerked her head and the gun went flying away.

“If you want to stop me then you’re gonna have to kill me the old fashioned way!” Delona snapped before returning to her incantation.

The wind picked up, whipping Sadie’s hair around. Beside them, the river began to overflow while behind Delona, the flame grew two-fold. Sam looked from the fire to the twine wrapped around his hands. Without a moment to spare, he leapt forwards, trying to burn away the tie in between his wrists.

Sadie reached Delona, putting a hand on top of the grimoire. Delona looked up, her irises glowing purple below their dark hazel hue. She grinned at Sadie, continuing her incantation without missing a beat. A thump caught Sadie’s attention. Sam was laying on the ground, gasping.

“Stop! Stop it!” Sadie shouted frantically over the wind.

Delona’s smile only grew. Her words came faster and faster. Rocks from the river bed beside them began to float. A tear fell down Sadie’s cheek.

“I’m sorry.” She murmured before raising two fingers to Delona’s forehead.

The witch’s whole body went rigid under Sadie’s touch. Right below where her fingertips pressed into Delona’s skin, a deep gash opened up. All the stones flopped back onto the ground and suddenly Sam could breathe again. He coughed for a moment, then scrambled over to where his gun was laying on the ground. When he raised it to shoot the witch, she was falling to her knees in front of Sadie.

Sadie’s fingers were still pressed against Delona’s skin, her eyes glued to the woman. A horrifying screech ripped through the air, then a wave of pressure flew away from them in all directions. Sam stumbled slightly against the ripple of energy. Something began to shine a deep purple. He squinted against the light to see Sadie, her whole being glowing, like her body couldn’t hold onto all the energy, leaving some of it to crackle out around her. She shook, breathing heavily.

“SadiE!” Sam’s voice rose in fear, moving towards her.

Delona’s body went limp, falling onto her side. Sadie stayed completely still, her hand hovering where Delona’s head had been, like she was frozen in time. The wind was too strong for Sam to keep his eyes open for long, and it looked like she might explode with all the power.

Then, her hand closed into a fist. The other rose to point two fingers upwards, and a bolt of that pure purple light shot from her. Sam shuffled to a halt, looking up in awe. The light rippled away across the dome of the sky, a vibrant violet threaded with a red-gold plume. Her body shuddered with a breath she took, still expelling all the life force she’d taken from Delona.

For a long moment, all Sam could see was the energy itself—the vast, ever-shifting ethereality of it, dissipating in waves across the canvas of the night. It was all connected—all of everything was bound together by energy like this. There was no good or bad, light or dark; it was just pure. Pure and full of potential.

His gaze lowered from the sky to Sadie. Her eyes were still shut, and her hair whipped around her head. The stream of energy was now more red-gold than purple, shooting out of her fingers. She looked almost pained by how hard she was focusing, and yet, surrounded by that dimming light, she looked…

She looked beautiful.

After another moment, the last of the light sputtered from her fingertips, a couple warm sparks of energy coming out before it was all done. Her lungs then heaved their first satisfying breath in a good while, as she came back down to Earth. Sam was frozen about ten feet from her, lips parted and unable to tear his gaze away. Slowly, her eyes opened, blinking a couple times. Her weak knees buckled slightly, and she fell sideways onto the boulder Delona had been using.

“Sadie!” Sam cried, awaking from his daze and rushing over to her.

A large, warm hand wrapped gently around the crook of her elbow, lifting her away from the rock. Her dizzy head lolled to the side as he pulled her to lean on him, her heavy eyelids trying their best to stay open.

For a moment, he scrambled to get ahold of her, trying to find the best grip so they could stay standing. When this didn’t work, he let the pair of them fumble their way to the ground, making sure she landed softly. He propped her up against his chest, even though there was a perfectly good boulder she could lean on less than a foot away. She let out a soft groan, head heavy against him. Finally, after what seemed like a lot of effort, she managed to look up at him.

“You came.” He barely breathed, sad eyes staring down into her face with a desperation she could practically taste.

“Of course.” She nodded, upset that he would assume she might do anything else. “Always.”

His eyes flickered back and forth between hers for a moment, and then without another word, he pulled her head to the front of his shoulder. A weak hand went to hold his arm, gripping the sleeve of the tarnished white button-down he was definitely going to have to throw out after this.

“I’m so sorry.” He murmured, pressing his cheek to her hair, one big hand coming to cup the back of her skull, “I thought I was gonna lose you and all I did was push you away—I don’t want that. I don’t want you to be gone. I’m sorry, please… please don’t leave.”

Her hand fumbled blindly up his arm, trying to return the hug as much she was physically able, though she was only semi-lucid. He didn’t even know what he was saying after a certain point. He didn’t know where he thought she was going, but he just couldn’t bear the idea of her being gone—not again. The soft feeling of her nose and brow tucked into the crook of his neck was all he could focus on, while his mouth murmured nonsensical pleas that she couldn’t really hear.

Some rocks shifted behind his back. He whipped around, gun raised in one hand while the other kept Sadie up. Ren flinched, raising her hands in surrender. With a sigh, he flipped the safety back on and lowered the gun. Ren relaxed, and then became concerned, walking over quickly.

“Sadie?” She asked, voice small.

Sadie’s head shifted at the sound of Ren’s voice and Sam’s grip on her relaxed so she could look up. He didn’t want to let her go just yet, but he knew he had no right to keep her all to himself. Ren fell gently to her knees beside them, a hand reaching out for Sadie’s shoulder. Sadie’s gentle touch slid from his arm to cup Ren’s elbow tenderly.

“Y’ alright, Squirt?” Sadie asked, trying her best to rally her strength. “Y’ had me worried there when you conked out all the sudden.”

“Yeah, I’m fine—” Ren replied quickly, looking desperately from Sadie to Sam and then back again, “—are you—? Is—? What’s wrong?”

Sadie’s tired hand slipped from Ren’s arm, a warm smile on her face. “I’m gonna be just fine, Squirt.”

Ren looked from her to Sam for confirmation. He nodded, settling Ren’s nerves. She slouched a little, the exhaustion catching up with her. A hand touched her shoulder, and she looked up to see Sam, his face full of relief—he was happy to see her, too. All she could offer was a weak smile in return, but inside, a rush of happiness surged through her; there was the distinct sense of her having a place there.

After a couple moments, Ren stood, going to look at the rock. Sam stayed still, perfectly happy to be kept down by Sadie. She could barely keep her eyes open at this point, and almost like a cat, she nestled closer to him. He wondered if she really knew that it was Sam who she was leaning against, or if she was too exhausted to even think about that.

At the boulder, Ren cocked her head, examining the materials laid out. The grimoire was huge with a weathered lilac fabric on the cover and gold hardware to lock it. In front of the book, on the boulder, there was a wedding band, a large coin and a pearl necklace.

“Hey,” Ren raised the necklace, “does this look three-hundred dollars to you?”

Sam smirked, while Sadie stirred against him.

“Take it.” She murmured, “Eat the rich…”

Sam let out a laugh, beaming down at her. Through his shirt, he felt her smile. Her head shifted, and her nose gently dragged across his collarbone. He forced himself to repress a shiver.

Ren, in a rare display of psychokinetic benevolence, assisted Sam in carrying Sadie to the car, the Grimoire Esoterica tucked under her arm. They went back to the motel, collected their things and then set off back towards the Bunker, the whole while Sadie drifting in and out of sleep.

The Evo’s headlights ran over yellow dash after yellow dash and Sam thought. His eyes flickered up to the rearview mirror, where he checked to make sure Ren was okay in the backseat. She was asleep, headphones stuffed in her ears and her mouth open like a little kid. The sight of it made him smile.

His gaze moved slowly to the side, where Sadie was passed out peacefully in the passenger seat. Her head was turned away from him, pressed against the window. He had the radio on, playing music down low, but the soft sounds of their snores were the primary noise in the car—that and his own breathing.

He wondered then if this was what it was supposed to be like. He wondered if this, tiny, minuscule moment among the millions he has and will experience, was a perfect blip in a sea of chaos. If the world wasn’t about being right or wrong, and it wasn’t about being in or out of control, then was it about waiting? Was it about waiting for times like this, when everything slowed down, and he was aware of what it meant to be alive again—what it felt like to just exist within himself, seemingly outside the passage of time and allowed respite in the quiet?

Sadie stirred beside him, bleary eyes trying to wake up. He glanced over at her, a warm smile on his face.

“Hey.” He murmured, jerking his head back slightly, “We gotta be quiet.”

Sadie’s weary head turned to look back at Ren, and her face broke into an adoring smile. As she settled back down, she glanced over at him. “What a cutie.”

He let out a soft chuckle and then they feel into a momentary silence.

“Sadie?” He began, garnering her gaze, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said, I’m sorry for… I’m… I’m sorry.”

“I took it too much to heart.” She said. For a long couple seconds, she just stared at his profile. “What is it that you’re worried about, Sam?”

He glanced over at her, unsure if she was really interested in knowing the answer. Sure enough, she was there, waiting patiently for his reply. Facing forwards again and swallowing, he just made himself speak.

“I’m worried about losing you. I’m worried about watching you slip away from me and not being able to do anything about it.” He said softly, hands tightening their grip on the wheel, “I’m worried about being forced to lose more than I’ve already lost. I’m worried… I’m worried about you deciding I’m not worth the trouble—that you’ll go away and not speak to me and leave me behind. I’m worried about all the things I can’t control—all the things I don’t know how to change. I’m… I’m worried about goddamn everything.”

There were a couple beats of silence. He glanced to his right, immediately fearful that he’d said too much, but all he found was her there, a small sympathetic frown on her face.

“That’s all you needed to say to me, Sam. I would’ve listened—I would’ve stayed.” She murmured. He nodded, still a bit ashamed, and she spoke again, “I guess at the end of the day, I just want you to be honest with me. I want… I want to feel respected.”

He nodded, brow furrowed at the road. He wanted to dispute this—say that he had nothing but respect for her—but he recognized this as a defense mechanism. He didn’t have to be conscious about his being disrespectful to be disrespectful. And so, he stayed quiet, just listening.

“I want you to respect me enough to tell me the truth, and to respect me enough to let me make my own choices.” Her voice cracked slightly, the exhaustion affecting her speech. “I shouldn’t have said what I said about… about the hunter. I’m sorry if I… I’m sorry if anything I said hurt you, it wasn’t right and I didn’t mean any of it, Sam. And… I’m sorry I worried you when I used my powers.”

He nodded, then ran a hand down his face, his calloused palm scratching against his stubble. He was afraid to broach the next topic, even though every silent moment of his day had been filled with his mind repeating her words: I had feelings for you, and they were deep.

“I’m also, uh,” He swallowed, “Sadie, I’m sorry I made you miserable. I’m sorry I made you feel like I was… toying with you. I would… I would never—I want you to know that. I… I really just didn’t know.”

She nodded, unable to keep her eyes open now, but still clearly lucid enough to listen.

“I’m sorry that I… I’m just sorry, Sadie.” He glanced over at her, “I’m sorry I… I didn’t trust you. And… I’m sorry about Ian. And I’m… I’m here if you need to talk about it.”

She nodded solemnly, a sad expression on her face as she was reminded of the absence in her life—the Ian-shaped hole in her heart. She thought for a long moment, then spoke again.

“I’m… I’m your friend, Sam.” She said, forcing her eyes open once more, “But that’s all. I was trying to use you to fix me, but that’s not healthy—it’s not possible. I… I have to be the reason to fix me. I used to rely on the idea that since you saw good in me, then there must be some in here. But… the bad in me—the history that I can’t change—that doesn’t come from an outside source. That comes from me. I hated me for what I did to that man—for the pain I caused—for the fear. I didn’t have control, and I need to forgive myself. And you… I don’t know what you need to do, but… you and I, we can’t do it together. At least… at least not in the way I… had hoped.”

He forced himself to swallow, and nodded. “If that’s what you want.”

She nodded too, eyes closed and neck going limp again. “I do still care, Sam. I’ll… I’ll always care. I don’t know how not to. Especially when it comes to you.”

His mouth twitched into a brief, sad smile. “I care about you too, Sadie.”

A dopey smile curved her mouth up. “I know.”

Sam’s phone began ringing in his pocket. He fumbled for a moment before getting it out and answering. “Hey, Dean, we’re on our way back now—”

Sadie glanced up to see the expression wiped off his face. The Evo’s engine roared under them as he pressed the pedal down further.

“We’ll meet you there.” Sam hung up, tossing the phone haphazardly into the cupholder.

“Sam?” Sadie asked, more awake now that there was something wrong. “Sam, what’s happening?”

He swallowed, wiping his face. “Jack’s sick, he’s uh, they’ve taken him to the hospital.”

“Sick?” Sadie glanced into the backseat, lowering her voice for fear of waking Ren. “Sick with what?”

Sam shook his head. “They don’t know.”

For a moment, she stared at his profile, face contorted in worry. The yellow dashes flew past beside the car wheels, picking up speed with each passing moment. Beside Sam, Sadie shifted upright, slapping her cheek gently to try and wake up.

“You should rest.” Sam said without thinking, “We’ll be there soon.”

“I’m not leaving you alone to stew in your anxiety juices, Sam.” Sadie replied tiredly, facing forwards and saying it like it was nothing. He swallowed, thankful but still worried beyond comprehension or words.

Thirty more minutes, he thought, thirty more minutes, Jack, just hold on.

#spnfandom #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester fic #sam winchester x oc #supernatural #spn rewrite #supernatural rewrite #sam winchester #exist in the disquiet

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thenocturnalcauldron-blog · 6 years

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The Magic of the Home, Hearth and Hard Work

Harvest Moon: The Magic of the Home, Hearth and Hard Work

https://www.gothichorrorstories.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Hearth-199x300.jpg 199w" alt="" width="637" height="960" />

The hearth stone of an abandoned cottage near Glenties, county Donegal, Ireland

The tradition of Donegal fiddle is populated with giants, those who kept the tradition alive at any given time over the past century or so, and today it could be argued that the living patriarchs of Donegal fiddle are the Campbell brothers, Jimmy and Vincent. They related to Caoimhin Mac Aoidh in his history of the tradition, “Between the Jigs and Reels,” that each year during the harvest, the travelers would converge and set up camp near Glenties. One of the gypsies, a tall, exceptional burly fellow known only as Gypsy Mor, was an accomplished fiddler, who believed firmly in the power of the harvest moon. In fact, it was only on the appearance of the harvest moon that Gypsy Mor would consent to shave. His favorite tune, thought composed in the 1840s by a man named Mac Fhionnlaioch, Gealach na gCoinnleach is now known throughout the world, appropriately enough as Harvest Moon.

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MY LITTLE BOY IS ELEVEN YEARS OLD, and interested in all things pagan. Actually not all things, but certainly the more sensational bits, particularly those associated with the Greeks. And I always try to remember to point out traces of the ancient pagans in modern life whenever possible, from symbols to sites, and celebrated dates. And tonight I took great pride in pointing out that this should be one of his favorite nights, as it was the harvest moon. As evidence I pointed to the exceptionally bright moon rising in the sky, quite proud of myself.

I knew the above story, having not only met, but inebriated myself in the company of not only Caoimhin Mac Aoidh, but the Campbell brothers as well, on the very night of the harvest moon, some years ago. I still remember a rather intense conversation held on the stairs of the Highlands Hotel in Glenties with Caoimhin and Jimmy, held entirely in Gaelic, of which I know none, but seemed to be understanding quite clearly. Such is the magic of the harvest moon, the Irish, and large quantities of Guinness and Jameson’s Irish whiskey. I should also add, it was quite likely during that moon, that the little pagan was conceived.

Now, eleven years later, as I started to tell him about the pagan significance of the harvest moon, I realized a startling fact. Aside from the story of Gypsy Mor, I didn’t know shit about the harvest moon. But from the name, I assumed it had to be something special.

The harvest moon is the first full moon closest to the autumnal equinox, and is sometimes known as the hunter’s moon. Here in the midwest, there’s the annual Feast of the Hunter’s Moon, which seeks to recreate the annual event at Fort Ouiatenon, near West Lafayette, Indiana, of a gathering of Native Americans and the French settlers at the 17th century fur trading post,.

Then there’s Leon Redbone crooning “Shine on Harvest Moon” There’s got to be something magic in this, right?

What there is is science and nature. For a brief period of time, the full moon rises low in the sky just about sunset, and due to its presence low on the horizon, it appears unusually large, often with a tinge of red, due to particles visible in the atmosphere. What this means is it stays somewhat light, somewhat longer into the evening, which allows more time in the fields, bringing in the harvest. Or easier tracking of game by hunters.

What I didn’t find was a history of ancient myths and celebrations, honoring the harvest moon. What I did find is a plethora of modern day celebrations, usually involving music, food and copious amounts of alcohol. I would imagine, among those so inclined, a fair amount of licentious sex as well. Among modern pagans and practitioners of Wicca I found a glut of celebrations, ceremonies and rituals, and somewhat connected to that, a dizzying range of commercial enterprises, from jewelry to clothing.

What seemed startling to me is the degree to which we’ve lost track of the natural cycle of the Earth. For those interested in the old ways, there are plenty of opportunities to celebrate the autumnal harvest. You’ve got Lugnasad on or around August 1st, the Equinox a few weeks later, and Samhain or All Hallow’s Eve on October 31. Between the Equinox and Halloween was a period of hard work.

I’d find it a bit more understandable why the harvest moon gets so much attention, if I thought it was perhaps an attempt to avoid pagan dates. At least there would be something of a historical precedence. Instead, I fear the reason for its rise in popularity is due to something far more trivial.

Its name.

Harvest Moon – it’s taking two ancient ideas with all their connotations and putting them together. It’s romantic, it’s mysterious, it’s some powerful mojo.

It’s also a time when you’re supposed to be working your butt off, to avoid the dangers and hardship of the coming winter. It’s the last big burst of activity, when you’re rushing to bring in the last of this year’s crops. It’s one of the few named celestial events in ancient or pagan calendars which is marked by work, rather than celebration.

But we don’t need the extra light any longer. We have streetlights. Most of us aren’t working the fields, and those that are, typically have plenty of lights beaming from modern harvesting equipment. In short, it’s become a holiday which no longer serves a real purpose.

Maybe there are some ancient mysteries tied into the harvest moon, which I didn’t find or have been lost to history. Celebrating the harvest moon certainly feels right. What doesn’t feel right is the commercialization and trivialization of the night.

Which is sad. It turns out, if there is any magical symbolism in the harvest moon, it’s that of the hearth. It’s the time of year when you’re gathering what will keep you alive, cooked over the family hearth, till the next crops come in. Between the harvest moon and then, there were countless ways to die. A vibrant and healthy hearth is what kept you alive, and was the place you returned after a long day’s work, stretching into the night, on the harvest moon.

https://www.gothichorrorstories.com/behind-urban-legends/harvest-moon-the-magic-of-the-home-hearth-and-hard-work/

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flauntpage · 6 years

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A Guide for NBA Stars Stuck Playing on Christmas Day

The NBA released its Christmas Day schedule for the upcoming season last night and everyone is very excited about the Milwaukee Bucks big matchup against the New York Knicks. But are their hidden costs here? Sure games on Christmas are good for you, the sports viewer looking to hide somewhere, but they are bad for almost everyone responsible for coaching, playing, refereeing, stadium-staffing, or floor-waxing on the big day.

Waking up on a day that, for most of the western world, is meant to be a day of family, celebration, trees, things of that nature. It’s the holiday EVERY fucking person celebrates to some degree or another, be it as a religious sacrament and celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ, an exploration of the bottom of capitalist impulse and an opportunity to teach children how to consume so the economy can stay big and healthy, an excuse to gather the family and eat ham or some other pig product, or, if you’re a real traditionalist, a Pagan Celebration of the birth of the sun, the source of all life and matter in the universe, the only TRUE observable God, a fiery ball of indifference hovering off in the distance, waiting for the ozone layer to collapse so it can burn us all to a crisp.

LeBron James, the floating ball of energy the NBA currently revolves around, has been vociferous in his criticism of the tradition:

“If you ask any player in the league, we’d rather be home with our families,” James said in 2010 before his Miami Heat were set to play the Los Angeles Lakers on the road. “I think the people that even set the games up would rather be home with their family during this day. It’s not just a regular holiday. It’s definitely one of those days that you wish you could wake up in the morning with the kids and open up presents.”

Ahh, the double-edged blessing and pain of the Christmas Day game! Certainly, playing in one implies that you are a member of a certain class of team, a squad who accomplished big things the year before and seems poised to accomplish much more in the year to come. BUT, the price of this fame and success is alienation—from your family, from the the traditions of your youth, and from the celebration of the broader world.

It’s tremendously sad, in its way, but the cost of success is inconvenience. And anyway, not all hope is lost: the human mind and spirit are ingenious, and there is plenty of holiday joy to be found out there on the road, in whatever strange city you may find yourself in. And so, for the convenience and edification of the players who will be stuck away from their families on December 25, we offer some suggestions for how they can cope.

12:00 PM ET: Milwaukee Bucks vs. New York Knicks

This is a big moment for the NBA’s kind, long-limbed, muscular boy, Giannis Antetokounmpo, the Greek Freak. It's an opportunity to absolutely lay waste to a team full of chumps and bums in front of an increasingly irritable crowd who will absolutely be looking for an opportunity to turn on the Knicks somewhere around Giannis’s thirty-seventh or so point. The rush of demolishing your opponent while they slowly lose support from their home is the biggest shot of adrenaline you can possibly feel, it’s basically the thrill of winning a war.

There’s no reason for Giannis to leave this feeling behind once he steps off the hardwood. Instead of shuffling back to the hotel and playing Fortnite or whatever it is youths do in hotel rooms, I implore Giannis to take to the Manhattan streets, steal cars, and declare homes and businesses to be “The Property of the Freak, Now.” He should recruit anyone he sees drifting on those cold Christmas streets to come inside the warm arms of the Freak, to huddle together and create a mass of human beings that will lead a movement to make Giannis the King of New York. Not in some corny-ass sports way but, like, actually the king, owning the fiefdom. He will knight dudes and dole out lands to vassals and arrange marriages to remain powerful and rich. The whole domain of the City is within your reach, Giannis… you just need the followers, sitting there on the streets for the taking.

3:00 PM ET: Oklahoma City Thunder vs. Houston Rockets

After taking a beating at the hands of the vastly superior Houston Rockets, Russell Westbrook is going to go back to his hotel room and carve everything he did in the game into his mattress, so he can more deeply engrain his various minor accomplishments into his mind and soul, as he does after every game.

For everyone else, though, a cleansing will be needed from the pure filth that builds inside the mind and spirit when you play for the Oklahoma City Thunder. They will need to get in a car and drive out to the Texas desert—no water, only a big block of salt and some cold pre-game buffet raviolis for sustenance—sit on the sand and just sweat, sweat until there's nothing left in you, sweat until you've drained out all the hatred and loathing and complicity in lining the pockets of a dude who made his fortune fracking, leaving you an empty vessel. Watch the sun set off into the distance and spend some time just, like, looking at the stars, alone and empty and happy for a split second. Then get back into the car and drive back to civilization, where you will suck in all that evil once again.

5:30 PM ET Philadelphia 76ers vs. Boston Celtics

Woof, Boston. No one wants to be ANYWHERE less, but on Christmas, it really takes it out of you. A rational person would fake an injury, chill at home and read a book, but professional athletes live to compete, so that’s probably out of the picture.

The only MORAL thing you can do, here, is walk out of that stadium and go door to door, barging in on every Christmas celebration you can find, and trying your damnedest to convince everyone you talk to that it’s time for them and their family to move anywhere—ANYWHERE—to get away from Boston. Ben Simmons can talk about Australia, with its Kangaroos and outbacks, neither of which Boston has. Joel Embiid can celebrate the virtues of the great nation of Cameroon, which might not be perfect, but is, at the least, not Boston, Massachusetts. J.J. Redick, unfortunately, will try to convince a poor family that they would be better off in North Carolina, but accidentally be slowly sold on Boston and wake up the next day with a gross haircut and his number retired in the Garden. Tragic, really, but so is LIFE.

8:00 PM ET Los Angeles Lakers vs. Golden State Warriors

The Bay Area: really lovely, if not for all the wind. LeBron James, separated from his family and annoyed at the ritual he gets forced into every year, can find some peace in one of San Francisco’s many municipal parks, where he can take advantage of the winter weather and gently fly a humble kite while wearing a massive, Nike branded pea-coat. As he looks at the kite, getting yanked to and fro by the wind, his mind will naturally drift to his broader life, like that kite up there, staying afloat only by the providence of his tremendous control.

Sooner or later a gust or a dip will hit, and the kite will fall or somehow lose control. In this moment, LeBron will feel the chill of fate, pulling at his soul. Was that wind?, he will think. Will the Lakers make a move that will plunge them into the bottom of the league while he’s still there and make him look like a colossal asshole? Is it the vagaries of injury, which can strike at any second? The bottom falling out of one of his many projects, some shit beyond his control sending him scattering in the wind? Is it his children, disappointing him? His wife or a business partner leaving out of nowhere? Certainly, the kite can’t stay up forever, he will think. I am in control now, but the gusts of life will come, and then what will I do? Can I keep the kite afloat, or raise it in the air once more?

10:30 PM ET Portland Trail Blazers vs. Utah Jazz

Well hey, if you’re gonna be traveling for work on Christmas, there’s no better place to be than Utah. The Mormons are the last practitioners of The Great Christmas Kitsch Arts, and they will fill your mind and your heart with holiday joy as you listen to their choir, devour their unnervingly perfect Christmas cookies, and go caroling in their beautiful neighborhoods, each more immaculately decorated than the last.

And, bonus: since you, as an NBA player, are a millionaire, you can purchase access to the basement of the Mormon Tabernacle, where the yearly orgy designed to establish balance in the broader world will be happening. Butts and dicks and limbs, flying everywhere, getting inserted into everything, holiday themed bread puddings falling into your mouth and onto your privates, ALL FOR THE PURPOSE of exorcising the impurities and sins of the world and burying them deep under the ground and away from the surface. No one does Christmas like Utah, you better believe it.

A Guide for NBA Stars Stuck Playing on Christmas Day published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/

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