Sing Praises of Love, Laughter & Liberty

For the love that lights up the soul, I thank you.

For the liberation that love inspires, I thank you.

For the laughter that gives life to each moment, I thank you.

I thank the Three who are generous beyond count in all these things and more. Hail, hail and hail again!

 

Di Obsecro Vostram Fidem

So, I’m finally in my 30’s. I can’t say if it feels any different, but I’m thankful for what I’ve become.

For every smile, I thank you, you all know who you are.

Gratitude in smoke and flesh for my eautou daimôn, my genius.

In other news, I’ve revamped the altar at our new place after the repairman broke one of our statues. Seven long years and all it took was a clumsy visitor.

Fortunately, I got a new one (plus three others) shipped from Greece. It took a month to cross two seas and an ocean, but it was well worth the wait. With feast and fire, we blessed them for holy use last Full Moon Night. May they serve their purpose for many a year!

I also printed out photos for our “god-mural” by the hallway, courtesy of Apotheon‘s concept art. Who knew such a sacrilegious game could produce such beautiful god-images!

May the blissful Gods ever receive gifts of beauty from us! Let thanks be returned for their graciousness.

(Photos can also be viewed at our Instagram account, undertwotrees.)

La Vie Avec Les Dieux

Sorry for being out of touch! My 29th year is proving to be very, very eventful, indeed.

Shortly after the Vialia, the first full moon of the year called for a full table and an intimate dinner with the Two Lords and our household spirits.

The end of January also called for a feast for those who blessed the opening month with many gifts (and there were many). May every month end with such gratitude!

Didn’t get a chance to get my fortune read, but nevertheless welcomed the Fire Monkey at the oldest Chinatown in the world, our very own, where Jesus, Buddha, and the Shen have dimsum every night.

A recent movement at work called for a lovely Wednesdate with Man’s dearest companion, His gifts are generous beyond count.

Come Anthestêria, things got a little more earthy.

Even this young bull was drawn.

Bull meets mask in a perfect display of Dionysian imagery.

On the last night of Anthestêria, we feasted in Their names.

And shared the same feast with Them.

One of the many unexpected but joyous events in my 29th year was deciding to move out from home (on the 29th of February, no less) and living with my dearest friend, the Indophile. It’s a bitter-sweet feeling to leave the place of your childhood to carve your own space in a strange city, but our lords are with us — we shall not weep. Here is our shrine at the new pad, our second home. They are generous beyond count.

Of course, never a feast without the Goodly Gods in a new place. Here we celebrate the Calends of March, quite appropriately, on our first day at the pad.

Despite being far away from the town I grew up in, praying with the same fire from home feels like I’m still there, praying with my family. And maybe it truly is so.

Never forget the Goddess of cities who guards all.

Old keys and new keys to old homes and new homes.

Old spirits, new spirits — one fire and one song.

Roughly a month to go until I turn 30. Wondrous things are about to happen.

 

 

 

Unhorcruxing

I’m heading for the mountains in a few hours and won’t be back until next Saturday. Wish me luck in getting the Spirits to help me in fixing my shit. May all our offerings be pleasing to the Gods.

For now, I leave you snapshots of the little offerings we’ve made these past three weeks, trying to set things straight between me and my soul, through the help of our Beloved Spirits:

Hail, Dionysos Sotêr, Dionysos Eleutherios! Hail, Hermês Diaktoros! Hail, our mighty and blessed Dead!

Jars, Cups, and Pots

Dancing with Dionysos in a Foreign Country

Guess what awesome thing is going to happen in a few days? You guessed right–well, I hope you did, anyway–it’s going to be Lenaia again, and on the same day as the Kalends of February, no less! I wasn’t able to properly observe it last year, so I’m hoping to do it justice in 2015.

It’s also a beautiful coincidence that I’m celebrating it in a foreign country and watching Riverdance at the same time! I know it’s not exactly acting, but it’s still theatre and it’s still art. I’ve also been dying to see it live since 1997. I was 11 or 12 when I first saw it on television and I’ve been hooked on Irish dancing ever since. It is absolutely my most favourite thing in the world. This kalends is going to be very memorable, indeed. May all be well and fortunate!

Speaking of good fortune, I of course did not forget to pay my dues before the trip:

No trip without proper sacrifice to the Luck-bringer and Traveller

The Lord accepts auspiciously-named candy as payment for his unfailing travel insurance plan

How can the Lord resist the smell of burning cinnamon bark!

May all be smooth, safe, and sweet for me and my friends on this trip!

Hail dancing Lord of the wine-press! Hail travelling Luck-bringer! Hail gracious roadside spirits! Hail Twin Saviours!

Look at what you made!

These are phenomenal. I have no other words for this beauty.

Flowers, Dead Things, and Spring

Sometimes, I wonder whether this is a blog or a photo album. Nevertheless, I’m sharing you this year’s Anthestêria through the following pictures:

On the first day of Anthestêria, Pithoigia, I pickled some mangoes. We call them burong manggá around here, and they’re best eaten (IMO, at least) when they’re bordering on alcoholic. The jar, along with the wines, was presented to Dionysos and the Household Gods to kick off the festivities.

Here, you see my freshly pickled mangoes, a new bottle of lambanóg (“coconut wine”), and old mulled wine from Lênaia. True to my Mestizo heritage, I make it a point to offer produce/products from both sides of the family.

After the sacred fires were lit, many songs were sung to the God who wears many masks…

…to the One who causes flowers to spring from the cold, dark earth.

The altar is graced with a generous libation of mixed wine (in a boat-shaped wooden bowl, no less), a gorgeous bouquet of Marsh rosemary, and upo (or calabash), freshly cut from the vine.

Here, the mixed wine crowns our rice supply for the next few months, blessing it.

On the third day of Anthestêria, Khytroi, the gracious Spirits Below are invited (and sent off) with the rattling jingle of sleigh bells.

The Immortals and Once-Mortals who keep the Dead in peace watch on…

In keeping with Asian custom: paper money to burn in sacrifice.

As I keep one shrine for all the gods of my family, I leave two-thirds of it veiled (the portion for the celestial ones) and the remaining third open (for the ones below).

Hermês Khthonios as Hermanubis grants our Blessed Dead passage and mediates between us and them.

After setting aside portions for our family’s ancestors, the rest of the panspermia pottage was left outside to be buried, to feed the All-Dead, not just our blessed and beloved. We who survive, remember and honour those who have gone before us, as Deucalion and his kin once did.

As we ended Anthestêria with a proper send off for overstaying “visitors” (including the “kindly” Keres and Lemures), we ushered the beginning of Parentalia, informing our Blessed Dead that they are welcome for the next 9 days to share our joys and hopes, and to bless us if they so will. Salvete Dii Parentes!

Hail to You, ye beautiful, laughter-loving sons of Zeus, Openers of the door, deathless friends of mortals and once-mortals! Even when the shrines are veiled and the fires burn low, You are with us, standing in between, ye faithful guides and saviours of Men, in darkness and in light! Hail!

And that, my friends, is how I spent the first half of February. I hope you had beautiful celebrations yourselves, and I pray for only bigger smiles and better food in the coming festivals. As the old hymn goes:

« καὶ σὺ μὲν οὕτω χαῖρε, πολυστάφυλ᾽ ὦ Διόνυσε:
δὸς δ᾽ ἡμᾶς χαίροντας ἐς ὥρας αὖτις ἱκέσθαι,
ἐκ δ᾽ αὖθ᾽ ὡράων εἰς τοὺς πολλοὺς ἐνιαυτούς. »

“And so hail to you, Dionysos, god of abundant clusters!
Grant that we may come again rejoicing to this season,
and from that season onwards for many a year.”

Hail days past! Hail days to come! Hail Winter’s end and Spring’s beginning! And hail the Spirits that stand in between! Hail Hermês! Hail Dionysos! Hail our Blessed Ancestors!

PS: In case you missed last year’s, here they are, too.

Dionysos Is A Dick

Dionysos is a dick – and a
really big one – But
to drink from divine
cock means nourishment
for our thirsty
souls – He needs to fuck
us – liberating
tight holes – too tightly
sealed
by society.
He is Eleutherios,
Liber pater,
the God who comes
a lot.

Oh yeah, give it to me.

Baby Jesus and Not So Baby Dionysos

Despite this sleepy, lazy January weather, there have been some interesting festivals lately, namely Lênaia and Sinulog.

Sannion offers us valuable information about the former:

The Lenaia was one of the most important festivals of ancient Athens — important not only as concerns the worship of Dionysos (as it is among his earliest attested festivals) but important to the Athenians in shaping their own civic identity. […] Lenaia appears to be an essential component of Dionysos’ winter festival cycle which culminates in Anthesteria. Coming in the middle as it does, the coldest and most barren part of the year, it is concerned with arousing and joyously placating the god so that he will have the power and inclination to bless the land with abundant fertility during his later marriage with the Basilinna. This is done in two ways — the procession, public sacrifice and theatrical performances of the city on one hand and the private banquet, dances and ecstatic worship of the lenai on the other. Both are intended to establish an amicable bond with the god — the public rites by reminding him of his visit to the city in the remote mythic past when he shared his gifts and brought civilized culture to the Athenians and more intimately with regard to the maenad priestesses. They clothe and decorate his idol, they sing and dance and play music for his entertainment, they share the remaining bounty of their fields with the god and they stir the wine as they hope he will stir the life-force in the frozen earth for them. In many ways a simple and unassuming festival — but absolutely essential for the well-being of the polis and to set the stage for the even more important Anthesteria. [See more.]

Dionysos-Bakkhos flicking his beautiful uncut cock by Carlos Barahona Possollo.

The official site of Sinulog also gives us a brief history of the celebration:

Sinulog is a dance ritual in honor of the miraculous image of the Santo Niño. […] Historical accounts say that before Portuguese navigator Ferdinand Magellan came to Cebu on April 7, 1521 to plant the cross on its shore and claim the country for the King of Spain, Sinulog was already danced by the natives in honor of their [anitos]. Then Magellan came and introduced Christianity. He gave the Santo Niño (image of the Child Jesus) as [a] baptismal gift to Hara Amihan, wife of Cebu’s Rajah Humabon who was later named Queen Juana.

2010 Sinulog Photo Contest Winner by Mikhail Arogante.

Now, my Lênaia celebration this year was rather simple and private. I made mulled wine at home, sang one or two hymns, danced, watched a film, and offered my activities to Dionysos.

I also presented a wood carving of a fertility(?) anito from Banaue (a gift from Murmur) as a votive offering to Dionysos. Bless his cock and may he bless mine!

For Sinulog, I joined the local Catholic community (i.e. pretty much everybody else) in the annual procession of our town’s Baby Jesus collection.

Naturally, the Santo Niño has had countless forms in the past 400 years. One wonders if the various little lords have absorbed some of the local deities? I wouldn’t be surprised. Nowadays, there’s a Niño for everything: a policeman’s Niño, a fireman’s Niño, a businessman’s Niño, etc. Today, there isn’t a single Catholic-owned business that doesn’t have a red or green-robed Niño with a bag of coins. Very mercurial.

This particular Baby White Jesus is Santo Niño del Pilar, who looks over our city as the son of his mum, our patron, Nuestra Señora del Pilar.

Interestingly, a certain diwatà from the South was called “Santonilyo” and was regarded as a giver of good graces (again, quite mercurial). His name and function point to a very probable syncretism between an earlier diwatà (whose original name is now, unfortunately, lost to us) and the Santo Niño.
Art by squeegool (squeegool.deviantart.com)

Awesome myth-collector, Visayan Myths, goes on to say that:

When Magellan came to the Philippines and landed in Cebu in April 1521, he was received by Rajah Humabon and his wife Humamay (some sources say her name was Amihan) and requested them to pledge allegiance to Spain and to allow the catechists to do their work and spread the tenets of Christian faith. Within a week, the Rajah and the Queen were baptized and were given the Christian names Carlos (after Holy Roman Emperor Charles V) and Juana (after Joanna of Castile) and one of the scribes, Antonio Pigafetta, an Italian Chronicler presented to the Queen an image of the St. Niño, to which she fell in love with immediately and said she was ready to renounce her ‘animist ways’ and accept the Child Jesus, it was even reported that as she received the figure, she was overjoyed and wept, bathing the statue with her tears as she [was] hugging it, and after her baptism, 800 other Cebuanos were also baptized and were given an image of the Virgin Mary and Ecce Homo, a depiction of Jesus before Pontius Pilate and a crucifix.

But the Spaniards underestimated the power of the animist faith, as it [was] deeply ingrained within the people. A few days later, Magellan was shocked to discover that Rajah Humabon still kept his idols and was astounded by the discovery that, not only [were] animist shrines present in every home, but [could] also be found in fields and even in grave sites. It was thought that the Queen readily accepted the Sto. Niño because it looked more regal, refined, and decked out in foreign finery unlike her wooden larawan with tusks that looked old and grimy, coupled with the fact that the natives were in awe of their Spanish visitors. Nonetheless, sources say that Magellan became a champion of Rajah Humabon and requested all the other chiefs of Cebu to surrender, and he personally sailed to Mactan and, unbeknownst to him, Lapu Lapu was ready and waiting to strike them. Magellan died in that encounter, the Spanish forces retreated back to Humabon, but were unaware that the repudiation of the newfound faith [had] already started among Humabon’s people, abandoning the Catholic faith once more in favor of the old religion. On May 1, 1521, Humabon ordered the massacre of the Spanish Survivors during a banquet, and some of them (Pigafetta included), escaped back to Europe, and nothing was documented about what happened to the Sto. Niño image. [See more.]

Now, as much as I appreciate Christians admitting to a possible ‘pagan’ origin of one of the most celebrated festivals in the country, what I don’t appreciate is misleading history:

Semantics and phrasing, I suppose.

That several practices surrounding modern Sinulog couldn’t have come from Catholicism is a reasonable theory (I mean, where else could it have come from?), but as for actual, hard evidence (such as historical records), I don’t think we’ve got much to confirm that Sinulog is a direct holdover from Cebuano paganism. Sorry!

I reckon, we just have to take it for what it is: a possibly syncretic festival in honour of a possibly syncretic deity. And that’s fine, I guess! Minus the explicit glorification of Catholic imperialism, of course.

Nevertheless, hail thou, Dionyos of Athens! Hail thou, Baby Jesus of Cebu!