Friday, July 31, 2026

Lughnasadh, Animism & Bread

 How is it already just a few short hours from August? Time is like a slow leak from a large urn or bowl or some other vessel. Those itty bitty drips? Meaningless. They can't quench your thirst, or put out a raging fire, but eventually, when you run out of water, you'll wish you had them back.


And so here we are, at the start of harvest season. This might mean very little to most of us now, who can walk into any number of supermarkets and grocery chains and convenience stores and walk out with a bag of oranges in the dead of winter without a second thought about where they came from. Bread, all day every day, of all different types. Most people alive today have never needed to worry about storing away for the winter or failed crops but for thousands upon thousands of years, this is how our species has survived. Lughnasadh, Lammas, whatever you might call it, was and still is an important part of our culture, our ancestry, our heritage, and our future. Even if you don't give a second thought to where your bread or oranges or even Dr. Pepper comes from because they're always just magically available, rest assured that those some processes our forebearers relied upon a thousand years ago are the very same you rely upon today. Try not to take it for granted. 


Writing about it makes me realize just how much of my spiritual practices/beliefs I owe to Japan. Throughout my blog I've mentioned several times that I grew up in a pagan household, but being in the American Deep South, the biblical god finds a way of infiltrating its way into your psyche. My god might have been a goddess, but that power structure - the all knowing, all seeing, ever presentness of it - spills over into your own thought processes. Like, remember in Disney's Pocahontas when the natives could speak english as their default language just because they sorta had to for the sake of simplicity? The abrahamic god is a bit like that. Default. You see it all the time in pagan spaces. Remove the name "jesus" and replace it with just about any other deity - "I think Aphrodite is calling me to be her high priestess!" - "I saw a black cat yesterday, is this a sign from Bastet?" So on and so forth. These poor children and some adults have no structure to their beliefs, so they default to the only one(s) they know. I'm not funning on them, because I get it. To make a long story short, I highly, HIGHLY, suggest anyone looking to expand their practice look into animism, and Shinto in particular. The practice is so varied and diverse and often comes down to regional and personal influences, so it's not really centralized the way most other religions are. The rivers may be gods. The trees may be spirits. There is a divine presence in the light of the sun and each drop of morning dew. There is a life in the remains of your broken coffee mug. Nothing demands worship, although you may seek the favor of - and give thanks to - any particular object or land or emotion or event as you see fit. Existence itself is divinity, whether it's a thought or a really nice rock. 

So tomorrow, for Lughnasadh, I'm baking a loaf of bread. The embodiment of the harvest, the culmination of thousands of years of agriculture and civilization, everything that has led you to there here and now and paves the way for every tomorrow we'll ever know. I love you, bread. I love the divine that exists within you and loans itself to me with its nourishment. I love the earth that grew the grain, the sun that gave its light, the rain that invigorated, the season that allowed these to come together. 

The world is so beautiful.

Blessed Be.

🌒🌕🌘

Saturday, July 18, 2026

My Shitty Reading List: ACOTAR

 Hi. So here's the thing - I didn't actually read it. This was my first ever audiobook and hoooooboy. Let's just get this over with. A Court of Blah and Blahs. 

Why did someone rewrite Beauty & the Beast as...as what? It's not exactly pornography. Not quite hentai. Smut? Can I call it smut? I don't know. I've read smut before, and it generally tends to be less Disney Katniss Everdeen than this. Like, when you're reading actual smut, you're usually reading it for the smut. This was just smut with extra steps.

It tried to be smut, and failed. It tried to have a plot, and failed that, too. How many times did Feyre really need to have every bone in her body broken there at the end? You might almost feel tempted to feel bad for her or something like that, but it just keeps happening. Oh nuuu, her spine cracked. oh wow, her ribs cracked one at a time. Oh gosh, there go her kneecaps. Oh golly, her neck snapped. I'm devestated, truly. And her stupidly useless fairy boyfriend, Tamlin - I've never been more bored in my life by a love interest. She stabbed him. Woo. He didn't even really react She should have hooked up with Lucien, or that vampire fairy guy instead. At least he tried to fight for her dead body at the end while Tammy-boy just kind of cried about it until it was too late.

. . . . .

Okay but here's the thing. It's been a month since I wrote the sad little entry above. I wasn't going to post it, because there's literally nothing to post. It wasn't an enthusiastic read/listen and I couldn't be bothered to try to fill it in with anything worth writing about.

Then I listened/read the second one. I don't remember the name of it, because it's still not very good. In the beginning, it's literally just a lot of "puking my guts up" every other paragraph, lots of crying, lots of begging Tammy Lion Man not to leave her alone. Our once noble huntress who saved all of fairy land was just a boring ass damsel in distress. Now, don't get me wrong, Book 2 wasn't exactly great, but getting kidnapped at your own boring wedding? That's way less boring than being a prisoner in your pretty fairy castle for 30 chapters. I even tried to be happy about our heroine realizing she was in lubz with Vampire Fairy Man, but like...come on, did we really need to drag that out the way we did? These characters communicate the same way we did back in 5th or 6th grade, back when your parent told you that boy was just pulling your hair because he likes you. Oh really? Is that the lesson you wanna teach your chirrens, mom? And Feyra is so fucking dramatic. MY SOUL IS SO STAINED I'M A BAD PERSON FOR SAVING EVERYONE HOW CAN THEY STAND TO LOOK AT MEEEEE? NO NO NO DON"T PRETEND I'M THE GREATEST THAT'S EVER EXISTED, I KNOW I'M A TERRIBLE PERSON FOR SURVIVING INSTEAD OF THOSE INNOCENT PEOPLE WHO WERE TOTALLY IRRELEVANT TO THE STORY THIS BEAUTY I POSSESS IS A MOCKERY OF THE MONSTER I AM. She'd make a great addition to the moody Cullen clan in Twilight, actually, with that attitude. It draaaaaaags on and on, but I think I'm supposed to be impressed with the scene of the starfall glitterbomb rooftop scene. I think I'm supposed to fist pump the air during the soup scene. Because fairy mating rituals involves heating up cans of soup. Fairies eat canned soup. Somewhere in fairy land, there's a canned soup factory. It reminds me of that one scene from Lord of the Rings where the hobbits feast upon McDonald's before taking that Boeing 737 to Mordor.  At least they're memorable scenes, unlike anything at all in book one. I don't remember that shit at all except that I'd rather wash public toilets than listen again. 

Ugh.