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Posts Tagged ‘carnival’

Now every field is clothed with grass, and every tree with leaves; now the woods put forth their blossoms, and the year assumes its gay attire.  –  Virgil

Spring was a festive time of year for Roman prostitutes.  April was the month of their patron goddess, Venus, and opened with Veneralia, the festival of Venus Verticordia;  the 23rd was Vinalia Urbana, on which whores made offerings of myrtle, mint and roses to Venus Erycina at her temple outside the Colline Gate.  Five days later Floralia began, and lasted until today; this was the festival of the goddess Flora, who because of her association with fertility (and an identification or confusion with Acca Larentia) was also revered by prostitutes.  And on the last day of Floralia, May 3rd, a group of them would strip in the arena and perform erotic dances until young men in the audience were enough overcome by lust to throw off their clothes and inhibitions and join them for ritual public sex.

Flora was, as you probably guessed, the Roman goddess of flowers; she was, like her Greek counterpart Chloris, a fairly minor deity until the mid-3rd century BCE.  At that time a disastrous crop failure occasioned a consultation of the Sibylline Books, which directed that a new festival be established in her honor; after a few years the celebration was allowed to lapse, but it was reinstated in 173 BCE after a series of violent storms destroyed many crops, and this time it caught on and was celebrated until the end of the Empire and beyond.  During Floralia, Romans of both sexes eschewed their normal white garments for colorful ones, especially green; they also wore floral wreaths and decorated their homes and other buildings with even more flowers.  Offerings of milk and honey were made to the goddess, and people gave gifts of fruit to one another; hares and goats (both symbolic of fertility) were released into gardens and fields and allowed to run freely about the city.  As one might expect there was also tremendous consumption of wine, accompanied by boisterous singing and dancing (intended to awaken nature), plus games and theatrical performances culminating in the spectacle of the whores I described above.

By the time of the Caesars the festival had grown as popular as Saturnalia, and spread to all corners of the Empire; since nearly all ancient cultures had spring festivities around the same general time, each province made its own contributions and so the celebration survived the advent of Christianity.  In pre-Roman times these May festivals were timed by the phases of the moon or the blossoming of certain plants, but the establishment of the Julian calendar synchronized them with Floralia, and after the Roman decline they became fixed on May Day all over Europe.  Hence the appearance of Flora in the graphic I used for Beltane on Tuesday; the artist obviously wished to acknowledge the origin of the holiday in Flora’s festival.  It’s impossible to tell which traditions other than the crowning of the goddess with flowers came specifically from the Roman observance and which were independent fertility traditions, which are generally sexual in every culture for sympathetic magical reasons.  But it’s good to know that the ritual orgy first celebrated by Roman prostitutes almost 2300 years ago is still remembered specifically in the sexual Neopagan Beltane rituals, and generally in the reputation of May as the month of lust.

One Year Ago Today

No Fun Shall Be Had” reports on the incredibly asinine behavior of humorless neofeminists who felt compelled to crucify a respected surgeon for making a silly joke they didn’t like.

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You seem to me as Dian in her orb,
As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown;
But you are more intemperate in your blood
Than Venus, or those pampered animals
That rage in savage sensuality.
  –  William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing (IV,i)

The lady in the statue is Cybele, the great mother-goddess of Asia Minor to whom big cats were sacred; she was worshipped in Rome as the Magna Mater in the feast of Hilaria, which started at the calends of April (March 25th) and continued through to yesterday.  In early times these rituals were rather bloody and not at all nice, including castration of a male sacrifice who thus represented Cybele’s lover Attis (the later myth of Aphrodite and Adonis descended from it).  But by the second century CE a bull had replaced the human, in an elaborate sacred drama and sacrifice called a taurobolium.

Today, however, was the feast of Veneralia, a festival dedicated to Fortuna Virilis (“Powerful Fortune”) and to Venus Verticordia (Venus the Changer of Hearts).  Remember how I told you that women worshipped Fortuna Virilis by bathing in men’s public baths?  Well, on Veneralia the image of Venus Verticordia was taken to a men’s bath by her priestesses and ceremonially bathed.  As you can see, Fortuna and Venus had become closely associated by the imperial era and their ceremonies merged; by the second century CE the Magna Mater (due in part to the proximity of their festivals and association with Venus Genetrix) was also added to the mixture and worshipped as Venus Caelestis (Heavenly Venus), while a combined aspect of Venus and Fortuna was called Venus Felix (Venus the Lucky).  Confused?  Don’t feel dumb; I’m sure many Romans were as well.  I’ll do my best to explain it in my column for the 23rd, “Vinalia Urbana“.

But in the meantime, so many readers have asked for more nude pictures I figured it was time to grant their requests in observance of the holiday.  But since the pictures are pretty explicit, I figured it would be better to hide them away on a sub-page and require you to click through to get to it, so that those averse to such things don’t have to see my pussy.  Those who prefer not to go there (and don’t worry, I’m not offended) can click here instead for a fun, cute way to spend a few minutes which doesn’t  involve naked women.

Happy Veneralia!

One Year Ago Today

A  Modest Proposal” describes some imaginative ideas for sex laws proposed by legislators in Alaska and Texas.

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While you stroll in New Orleans
You ought to go see the Mardi Gras
If you go to New Orleans
You ought to go see the Mardi Gras
When you see the Mardi Gras
Somebody’ll tell you what’s Carnival for.
 – Byrd/Terry, “Go To the Mardi Gras

Today is Mardi Gras, which I referred to in last year’s column on the subject as “one of the last large-scale pagan festivals left in the increasingly sanitized and homogenized United States”; those of you who didn’t read that essay may wish to do so today.  You’ll notice that it is dated March 8th, because Mardi Gras moves with Easter, which is the first Sunday after the first full moon after the vernal equinox and can therefore fall anywhere from March 22nd to April 25th.  Likewise, Fat Tuesday (since it’s always 47 days before Easter) can fall anywhere from February 3rd to March 9th; last year it was about as late as it could be, and this year it’s pretty typical.

As I wrote in the aforementioned column, one of the weirdest things about moving away from New Orleans is seeing everyone go about his business normally today as if it were any other day, when I know that back in the Crescent City there’s a huge party going on!  When we were in town two weeks ago, the signs were everywhere:  many places were decorated in purple, green and gold, the stores were full of king cakes, and viewing stands had been erected on the major parade routes in both New Orleans and Jefferson Parish.  Unfortunately there weren’t any parades any of the nights we were there, but that doesn’t mean we had nothing to do; we visited friends on three nights of the five, and on Wednesday went out walking on Bourbon Street with an out-of-town friend who had arrived that day.  While we were there, we went into a little courtyard called “Musical Legends Park”, where a jazzman named Steamboat Willie was playing.  My husband always buys a CD from any live performer we enjoy, and while he was doing so in this case he also requested that Willie perform “Do You Know What It Means To Miss New Orleans?” for me.  Well, when he heard my name he insisted on performing two songs for me, the first being his original composition “Maggie” from his album Move ‘N On (you can listen to a sample or download the song or album on Amazon).

Anyhow, even though today isn’t a holiday for most of you, it will always be one for me:  You can take the girl out of New Orleans, but you can’t take New Orleans out of the girl.  So I’m taking the day off, and I wish all of you a Happy Mardi Gras!

One Year Ago Today

The first installment of my four-part interview of sex worker rights activist Jill Brenneman, who was the victim of real sex trafficking and realizes that “only rights can stop the wrongs”.  The first two parts of the interview are both graphic and disturbing, and I caution sensitive readers to consider carefully before reading them.

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Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans,
And miss it each night and day?
I know I’m not wrong, the feeling’s gettin’ stronger
The longer I stay away.
  –  Eddie DeLange and Louis Alter

We try to get down to New Orleans once a year to visit friends, stock up on groceries we can’t get elsewhere and go to a few of our favorite restaurants.  I even use the opportunity to have my annual checkup, because I like my gynecologist and saw no real reason to try to find a new whore-friendly one here.  Usually, we go near the end of January or beginning of February, but last year my husband’s schedule was such a mess we couldn’t make it until August…which made exchanging Christmas presents a bit strange (but still fun).

As in August, he had business in New Orleans this week, which means we get to stay in a nice hotel near Canal Street on his company’s tab.  So we drove down Sunday and will be returning Friday; I’ll bet you didn’t even notice I was gone.  See, I’ve been pre-posting all of my columns since mid-autumn; I find it’s a lot more convenient, because then if the internet goes down, or I somehow get distracted in the morning, or I have to drive my husband to the airport, or we decide to run off to New Orleans for a week, everything still publishes on time and y’all aren’t disappointed.  The only drawback is that if I have to shift columns to make room for a more pressing item, it’s a colossal pain because I have to change links and everything.  For example, “2011 in Review” was originally scheduled for the 11th, but was bumped from the spot by “Hark, Hark, the Dogs Do Bark” because the “one year ago today” connection was too good to pass up.  That meant displacing “Rhinoceros” from the 14th to the 21st and “Q & A (January 2012)” from the 21st to the 23rd; fortunately I hadn’t gone any further than that yet.  Whew!

So while I’m in New Orleans, I thought those of you who haven’t yet read all my columns might enjoy some of my New Orleans-themed ones.  I already linked “Out and About” in the first paragraph; it’s a guide to my favorite places to eat in the Big Easy.  And for those who prefer to cook their own food, I gave you the recipe for gumbo only yesterday.  “They All Axed for You”  uses my August trip as a springboard for a discussion on New Orleans’ dialect, and since we’re making it down during Carnival this year you may find “King Day” and “Mardi Gras” appropriate reading.

One year ago today I wrote about a famous New Orleans madam in “Josie Arlington”, then last September I wrote about another one in “Lulu White”.  Both of those ladies’ bordellos were found in “Storyville”, the city’s famous red-light district; many of the refined Creole ladies who plied their trade there were the descendants of “left-handed marriages”, as explained in “Plaçage”.  Creole prostitutes are so much a part of the city’s history that I’ve shared two songs about them (“New Orleans Ladies” and “Lady Marmalade”) with you, and the very first song in my very first hooker song column (namely “Fancy”) was about yet another New Orleanian fille de joie.

It’s been said that part of the distinctive character of New Orleans comes from her relationship with Nature, an idea I visit in “Moondance”; of course, the city’s most famous brush with Nature was Hurricane Katrina, and I discuss my experiences after it in the three-part “The Only Working Girl in New Orleans”.  If you don’t already have a low opinion of the New Orleans Police Department, you will after reading those columns; nor has it improved since I left town, as explained in my second-to-last column of 2011, “Three Steps Back”.  And if all these aren’t enough, just click on the “New Orleans” tag at the bottom of this post.  I apologize if I’m a bit slow to reply to emails or moderate comments this week, but I’m sure you’ll forgive me (it isn’t like I do this every month, after all).  And if we manage to get to a parade while we’re there, I’ll catch some beads for y’all.

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Why, what’s the matter,
That you have such a February face,
So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?
  –  William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing (V,iv)

Today is the ancient festival of Imbolc, celebrated by the Celts as the beginning of spring and the day sacred to Brigit, the goddess of fire and healing.  The Irish drove their cattle between two sacred bonfires on this day in the belief that it would help to keep them free of parasites, and when the festival was Christianized as Candlemas the association with fire and healing remained:  this is the day on which all the candles to be used in the next year are consecrated, and the candles are used tomorrow (St. Blaise’s Day) to bless churchgoers so as to protect them from ailments of the throat.

Due to our continental climate, few North Americans can imagine this day as anywhere near spring; accordingly, we celebrate the beginnings of the seasons on the solstices and equinoxes and perceive the cross-quarter days (Imbolc, Beltane, Lammas and Samhain…or as Americans call them, Ground Hog Day, May Day, August 1st and Halloween) as the midpoints of the seasons rather than as their beginnings.  Indeed, where I live February is often the coldest month (unlike South Louisiana, where it’s usually very spring-like).  As I explained in my column of one year ago today, the Celtic and Germanic peoples believed that the cross-quarter days could be used as inverse weather predictors for the next six weeks, and though the tradition has been forgotten for the other three days it remains alive and well for this one, so much so that Americans name it after the sacred animal used for the weather-forecasting ritual.

We always celebrate Imbolc with a feast, and since it’s in the middle of Carnival season (Mardi Gras is February 21st this year) the center of that feast is always a big pot of chicken and andouille gumbo made from my sister’s recipe.  Like king cake, the dish is best when the initial stage is completed a day in advance, and since many of you enjoyed seeing that recipe I’ve decided to give you the one for gumbo as well this coming Tuesday (unlike king cake, it isn’t seasonal; gumbo can be eaten any time of year, and some old Cajun ladies still make it every Sunday).  It’ll require a full column, not because it’s especially complicated (it isn’t), but because some of the culinary terms may be unfamiliar to many of my readers and will thus require a bit of explanation (and photos I’ll take today).

I pray that all my readers, no matter what your individual beliefs, find renewal in your lives at this time; I ask that negative things die away like weeds in winter, and that positive things appear and grow for you like leaves in the spring.  Blessed Be!

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We three kings of Orient are,
Bearing gifts we traverse afar.
Field and fountain, moor and mountain,
Following yonder star.
  –  John Henry Hopkins

Today is the feast of the Epiphany, also called Little Christmas or King Day; as I explained in my column of one year ago today it is the day on which legend says the Magi (the “Three Kings”) visited the infant Jesus, and in the Middle Ages was the day on which Christians exchanged gifts rather than Christmas.  Even after the gift-giving shifted back to Christmas Day or Eve in the Renaissance, some cultures continued to give gifts to children on Little Christmas (or more specifically, the gifts are left while they’re sleeping on Twelfth Night).  In Spanish-speaking countries the gifts are left by the Three Kings, but in Italy they’re brought by a witch named Befana.  She’s usually portrayed as old (and there’s a traditional picture of her in last year’s column), but modern Italy being…well, Italy, sexy Befana images like the one here have also become very common.  But while Hispanic and Italian children opened their presents this morning, Russian and Ethiopian children won’t see theirs until tomorrow; for reasons also explained in last year’s column, Christmas Day in those countries falls on January 7th.

In New Orleans, today is the first day of the Carnival season; the first Carnival ball (that of the Twelfth Night Revelers) is tonight, and the others (not to mention the parades) are spread out between now and Mardi Gras, which this year falls on February 21st.  That also means today is the traditional day for taking Christmas decorations down, and the first day for eating king cakes; if any of you outside the New Orleans area want to share that tradition, the recipe appears in my Twelfth Night column from last year.  But remember, the cake can only be made and eaten between today and Fat Tuesday.

So, to my Italian readers, Buona Epifania!  To my Spanish-speaking readers, Feliz Día de Los Reyes! To my Ethiopian readers, Melkam Gena!  And to my Russian readers, S Roždestvom!

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Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?  –  William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night (II, iii)

As I stated in my column of one year ago today,

Today is the twelfth day of Christmas and tonight is Twelfth Night, traditionally celebrated with parties and feasting.  It is the eve of the Epiphany, the day on which Christian myth holds the Magi arrived to give gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh to the infant Jesus.  Because of this it was the custom in medieval times to exchange Christmas presents on that day, and Twelfth Night was the celebration preceding the exchange.  Even after the gift exchange moved back to Christmas Day proper in the Renaissance, Twelfth Night continued to be celebrated as the transition between Christmastide and Carnival (which starts tomorrow)…Remember the old Saturnalia inversion of the social order we talked about before?  In Christian times this portion of the festivities was shifted to Twelfth Night celebrations.  The masters waited on their servants and everyone shared a cake which contained a bean; whoever got the bean became the Lord of Misrule, the ruler of the feast.  This went on until midnight, when Christmas ended and the world returned to normal.

Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night was specifically written for the holiday in 1602, though it was not publicly performed until Candlemas of that year (February 2nd, 1602).  As befitting the occasion, the play is full of drinking, feasting, singing, merriment, silliness, chaos and inversions such as Viola’s disguising herself as a man (such “breeches parts” would later become a staple of Restoration theater) and even subtle breaking of the “fourth wall” (in III, iv Fabian remarks, “If this were play’d upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction“).  But the most topsy-turvy character of all is the foolish servant Malvolio, Countess Olivia’s steward, a Puritan who believes it is his place to stop others from having fun (the epigram is spoken to him by another character, Sir Toby Belch).  Malvolio is so full of himself that he not only has the nerve to chastise his social superiors (Sir Toby and his friend Sir Andrew Aguecheek), but also the egotism upon which their revenge feeds:  they send him a faked love-note from his employer asking him to behave in all sorts of absurd ways to supposedly demonstrate his acceptance of her troth.  Olivia (who is not in on the joke) believes that Malvolio has gone insane and allows the conspirators to lock him in the cellar.  At the end he is released, but storms off vowing “I’ll be reveng’d on the whole pack of you.” (V,i)

Alas, this Twelfth Night of 2012, 410 years later, sees our entire society beset by a whole pack of Malvolios.  Because they hate fun and merriment they wish to ban such activities for everybody, usually under the guise of “health”, “law and order” or “helping victims”.  But in an inversion which is not at all festive or in the spirit of good fellowship, these modern Malvolios are the ones who forge documents full of lies in order to make their victims seem mentally ill and/or to have them locked up.  Alas, this “improbable fiction” is all too real, and because it is we can’t count on a resolution by the end of Act V; as I predicted in my column of January 2nd  we’ll eventually be rid of these pompous Puritans, but it will be through our own perseverance rather than the kind intercession of the Great Playwright.

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Shall we liken Christmas to the web in a loom?  There are many weavers, who work into the pattern the experience of their lives. When one generation goes, another comes to take up the weft where it has been dropped.  The pattern changes as the mind changes, yet never begins quite anew.  At first, we are not sure that we discern the pattern, but at last we see that, unknown to the weavers themselves, something has taken shape before our eyes, and that they have made something very beautiful, something which compels our understanding.  –  Earl W. Count, 4,000 Years of Christmas

The winter solstice will occur tomorrow morning at 5:30 AM GMT, which is to say tonight at 11:30 CST.  Tonight is thus the longest evening of the year (or the shortest for my readers in the Southern Hemisphere) and tomorrow the first day of astronomical winter (summer for y’all Down Under).  Alas, our autumn here was quite short this year; the summer outstayed his welcome by several weeks and the winter arrived rudely early, and we’ve already had snow several times (though none of it accumulated, so it looks like we won’t have a white Christmas here).  One year ago today I published a column explaining the reason nearly every culture celebrates a major holiday around this time of year, and including an essay by my friend JustStarshine explaining the spiritual significance of this day for pagans.  But so extensive is the lore around Yule (under its multiplicity of names) that I also included information about it in a number of other columns, including those for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, Boxing Day, Twelfth Night and King Day (the last of which is celebrated as Christmas Eve by my Russian and Ethiopian readers).  To understand why the latter is so (it’s also the same reason our big solstice festival is celebrated about three days after the solstice) you’ll need to read last year’s Christmas column, linked above.  And if you do live in the antipodes, you might even be interested in my summer solstice column.  I’ll be frightfully busy the next few days with my holiday baking, so I may not respond to comments or emails as quickly as usual, but I’ve pre-posted my columns through the holidays so they’ll still appear about the time you’re used to seeing them every day.

I wish for my readers health, happiness and prosperity in this most joyous season and throughout the coming solar year.  Blessed Be!

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The freakish is no longer a private zone, difficult of access.  People who are bizarre, in sexual disgrace, emotionally violent are seen daily on the newsstands, on TV, in the subways.  Hobbesian man roams the streets, quite visible, with glitter in his hair.  –  Susan Sontag

…and as usual, we give the most freakish and emotionally disturbed of all power over us, like a medieval Carnival celebration writ large and practiced all year ‘round.  In today’s collection, I’ve saved those for last.

Not To Be Taken Internally

It’s not too often an article leaves me at a loss for words, but…see for yourself, in this November 19th story from NBC Miami:

A Miami Gardens transgender woman is facing charges of practicing medicine without a license after police say she injected a patient’s rear with everything but the kitchen sink in an illegal cosmetic surgery procedure.  Oneal Ron Morris, 30, was arrested Friday after an investigation by Miami Gardens Police and the Florida Department of Health.  According to police, the victim saw Morris in May and was injected in her buttocks with a substance consisting of cement, “Fix a Flat,” mineral oil and super glue…the amateur incision was then sealed with super glue…[and] the victim was later hospitalized with a serious medical condition…Morris, who police say is a man but appears to look like a woman and sports an apparently enhanced rear herself in arrest photos, was being held on $7,500 bond.  It was unknown whether she has an attorney…


Since then, other victims like this one have come forward.  Take a look at Morris’ photo at right and ask yourself, “Would I trust this person’s judgment regarding cosmetic procedures?” The only other thing I have to say is from “February Updates”: “ladies, please, real plastic surgeons do NOT make house calls to hotel rooms!”  Nor, I might add, do they perform procedures at parties.

Higher Education

OK, according to American law filmed harlotry magically becomes legal.  I wonder how this scheme (reported on November 29th in the Huffington Post) would fly in the US?

The world’s first international sex school has opened which claims to teach its students how to be better lovers.  But far from being a cheap thrill, one term at the “hands on” International Sex School in Vienna will cost pupils £1,400.  Swedish-born “headmistress” Ylva-Maria Thompson says anyone over the age of 16 can enroll at what she describes as “the world’s first college of applied sexuality”.  Students live in a mixed sex dormitory block where they’re expected to practise their homework.  “Our core education is not theoretical, but very practical.  The emphasis is on how to be a better lover”, the new school head added.  “Sexual positions, caressing techniques, anatomical features.  And we teach people hands on.”

Thompson is better known for her art exhibitions, including one which displayed 100 casts of Swedish women’s genitals.  Raunchy adverts for the school showing a couple making love have already been banned by Austrian TV.  “This is wrapped up in a very stylish way but it is just selling sex,” one protestor commented.

One has to laugh at the protester’s inane statement, because selling sex is legal in Austria.  I do have to wonder if Thompson’s students could be prosecuted in her native country, though.

Poetic Justice

I hope you’ll forgive me for indulging myself in a moment of schadenfreude, courtesy of Hypervocal:

If you needed any real-world evidence as to why you should never put your name on a building while you’re still alive, former Arapahoe County [Colorado] Sheriff Patrick J. Sullivan Jr. has you covered.  The National Sheriff Association’s 2001 “Sheriff of the Year” was arrested on [November 29th], suspected of trafficking methamphetamine,  according to CBS Denver.  The 68-year-old Sullivan served as Arapahoe County [Colorado] Sheriff for 19 years before retiring from his elected post in 2002.  The investigation leading up to his arrest…began on Nov. 17th when several police informants connected Sullivan to the use and distribution of meth.  “As part of the investigation authorities say Sullivan agreed to meet a male informant and provide the man drugs in exchange for sex”…

Here’s the kicker:  Sullivan, who is being held on $250,000 bond, is sitting in the Arapahoe County Jail.  His new home is better known by its updated name:  The Patrick J. Sullivan Jr. Detention Facility.  Current Arapahoe County sheriff, Grayson Robinson, said Sullivan will likely be charged with a felony count drug count, with additional charges against him and other suspects to follow.  If he is convicted of the class-five felony, he faces one to six years in prison…

This story could almost have served as an update to “Wholesale Hypocrisy” or even “Reaction Formation”, since the CBS report notes that this “dedicated, loyal, available,” dope-dealing “hero” who posted bond for drug suspects on numerous occasions over the past few years was simultaneously “an active participant in state and local methamphetamine task forces, helping craft a state plan to deal with the scourge of methamphetamine.”  Well, I guess they went straight to the source.  I wonder if he’ll be prosecuted as a “human trafficker” too, since he offered to pay for sex and Colorado politicians claim that “end demand” initiatives will “cut down on the enormous public harm that comes from human trafficking”.  Alas, it’s much more likely he’ll just get the usual slap on the wrist after his defense says he fell off of his bicycle or became an addict due to some act of wonderful, selfless heroism.

The Clueless Leading the Hysterical

As students of hysteria know, the vast majority of panics would be extremely short-lived if people actually bothered to investigate the moronic claims made by authority figures such as “the average age at which a woman enters prostitution is 13” or “there is a 40% increase in domestic violence on Super Bowl Sunday” (as described in my column of one year ago today).  Of course, they never do, and neither do the self-proclaimed “authorities” themselves.  All it takes is for some glorified security guard in Arizona to declare that teenagers are using vodka-soaked tampons to get drunk without booze breath and before you know it cops and media from sea to shining sea are reporting it as Gospel.  The idea of thinking critically about the claim or simply visiting The Straight Dope  or Snopes or Mythbusters or The Honest Courtesan never occurs to these yo-yos, and the result is stuff like this November 30th story from Huffington Post:

The New Mexico Attorney General’s Office is warning parents that an increased sighting of depictions of a cartoon-like bear that is linked to pedophiles could be an indication of increased child sex offender activity in the Albuquerque area.  “Our ICAC unit has received reports that the Pedobear window sticker has been sighted in Albuquerque on at least two vehicles recently,” said New Mexico Attorney General Gary King.  The concept of the Pedobear was made popular a couple years ago on the Internet forum 4chan.  The bear illustration was a joke aimed at people who were inadvertently creepy about children.  The bear, however, has since been embraced by pedophiles, according to the attorney general’s office.  The Pedobear, they allege, “has a sexual interest in underage girls” and has spread from use among an online subculture to the mainstream…

Last year flyers circulated of a Pedobear masquerading as a TSA agent, and in May a man dressed as the Internet-based Pedobear was escorted by police from the San Diego Comic Con event, where he had been distributing candy to children.  It is not illegal for people to display the Pedobear image in public.  Some people may be displaying them as a joke, but the attorney general’s office said they are taking the bear images seriously and are trying to get the word out.  “We are very concerned about the potential link between the Pedobear symbol and pedophiles; we also want to increase public awareness of the potential danger to children, especially young girls,” King said.


Because, you know, pedophiles are usually strangers who wear funny costumes to attract the attention of every single adult in the area before swooping down on unsuspecting prepubescent girls, only they’re not.  Of course, this is Albuquerque, the city which seems determined to win some kind of award for police and governmental corruption, incompetence  and all-around control freakishness.  Still, they’re just taking their cues from San Diego, which started this particular nonsense last year with a hilarious two-page flyer that sounds like it was composed by the bastard child of a cop and a failed writer of vintage Hollywood ad copy.  The sick minds of police are compelled to project their own internal ugliness onto the external world, so it’s inevitable that they would fantasize that a tool of community self-policing is “really” a badge of criminality that they have to “protect” people from by imposing further tyranny.

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Boys and girls of every age,
Wouldn’t you like to see something strange?
Come with us and you will see,
This our town of Halloween.
  –  Danny Elfman, “This is Halloween

Technically, the Celtic festival of Samhain (SOW-en) is tomorrow, November 1st, but its most important festivities began on the previous evening and, like so many pagan holidays, it was later transformed into a Christian holiday.  Many cultures traditionally honored their dead in autumn, but once the Church established All Hallows Day those other festivals (such as the Aztec festival for the goddess Mictecacihuatl, Queen of the Dead, which was originally held in August) shifted to the time of the official celebration.  Indeed, Pope Gregory III (731-741) even suppressed the earlier “Holy Martyr’s Day”, which until then was celebrated on May 13th – the old Roman festival of Lemuria, at which the restless or malevolent dead (lemures) were propitiated and exorcised from houses.  And though the Catholic Church later split All Hallows Day into two observances – All Saints Day on November 1st (dedicated to those in Heaven) and All Souls Day on November 2nd (dedicated to those in Purgatory) – October 31st retained its name of All Hallows Even…or as it is usually abbreviated, Hallowe’en.

This holiday has always held a special significance for me, and not merely because I was born 45 years ago tonight, nor because I lost my virginity 15 years later on this same night.  As I said in my column of one year ago today:

…I was always a strange and moody child…[and] Halloween…was a special, magical night not only because of the treats and the opportunity to get up in costume, but also because it was the one time I was allowed to run wild like the little witch I was, my tangled hair streaming behind in the chilly October breeze as I crept from house to house in the dark, always alone, making sure no other children were nearby to interrupt my solo appearance at each door.

Though we don’t see Trick-or-Treaters out here in the country, I always carve a Jack o’ Lantern and bake a Halloween cake, and we celebrate by watching a horror movie and reading a scary story.  But while you’re out and about today and you see all the commercialized, tamed and neutered symbols of this once-dark holiday, spare a thought for your ancestors and all Those Who Have Gone Before, and remember that since you and everyone else around you will follow them in the merest of moments (on the cosmic scale), death is nothing to be afraid of; what’s important is not when we die, but how we live.

Happy Halloween, Dear Readers, and Blessed Be!

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