Sunday Sermon

Sunday morning, a time to reflect in bed. Just for a few moments. It is quiet in the house. Nobody is stirring. The baby does not cry, the dog does not bark, and the cat is not barfing up a fur mouse. You can think, plan, reflect, and project. This day is for Set, the Snake God. The Christians own it no more. Linger in bed, digesting the past, and hungering for the future.

There is a diversity of gods that have rulership over the Sun. They are found in many cultures. It is multi-cultural. Numb your brain with drugs and embrace diversity. Which do you favor on this Sun day? The Sun god is associated with victory, heat, light, and gold. If you are not going to a Christian church, if you do not pray, if you are blind to scripture, then you belong to the pagan gods. Which one owns you? On Sunday, in the morning, as you slumber, you belong to the Sun god. Tomorrow is another day, another god, another post.

The Sun god likes snakes. He is always male, prefers his wife in bed more than his servants, and favors children, even if he sometimes only has them to eat them. Which of the manifestations of the Sun god will you take on this day? You have choice, of course. Just perform the rituals, the prayers, offer the incense and offerings, in the right way, at the right time. You do know the rituals, the sacred rites, have the correct spices and scents, the right animal to offer up, in the right way. You do, don’t you? Or don’t you? Not knowing is not good. Your non-Christian ass is not going to offend the Sun god, is it?

Non-believers will not believe that they can offend the Sun god on a Sun day. Ha ha ha. Foolish bunk. No storm will come. Three long, hard winters, they do not apply. Specific blizzards, earthquakes that define the century, and economy ending tidal waves, these are the products of the exhaust gases of human breathing, not Poseidon the Earthshaker, ruler of Pisces; nor Athena, offended goddess of reason. No way. It is the bad breath of men that shakes the earth. Taxes are called for, even if this offends the gods of commerce, like thundering Jupiter, or gloomy Hades, or crafty Mercury. But, but the dusty oracles of the dead white men say different. The Christians warn against the pagan rites (in general); The Pagans warn against dishonoring them (in particular). You, no longer Christian, do both: where is your golden amulet of Helios? Is your house blessed with incense dear to Mithra? Does your little girl have a new doll, made of sweet grass and timothy? Hmmm. Whom do you bless, and who is offering?

You laugh at me. I am funny; full of hyperbole; clever with words but lacking in progressive wisdom, that emotionally based worm orgy of reason. So, on this day, the Sun day, when you descend into your basement, into anyplace under ground, below grade, you open the doors to the underworld. There is a common spell to ward this doom off. (This never applies to Christians). Did you say the words, touch the silver amulet, and make the hand gesture to let the three headed snake (some say dog) that guards the damned in Hades know that you are just going into the basement to watch TV (CBC; Beachcombers), and not open a portal to the infernal realm? Is there intoxicating drink in your basement, now portico of Hades, to welcome the rotting heroes of great battles? Do you have a child to offer to Persephone, or will she have to look for one, choose one, herself? Is there a dog or a bunny rabbit available for the werewolf to, variously, inhabit, eat, or impregnate? Your basement, your parking garage, your experience. Except for Christians, they do not apply; but you, non-Christian, it applies to you. It applies today, Sun day.

Why go to Hell, when Hell can come to you? Take your lucky Rabbits foot, and go down, down underground. Go, and go quickly, before your guests come looking for you and yours. For they will surely come (and be pleasantly gone by tomorrow, Moon day).

I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this.

5 Responses to “Sunday Sermon”

  1. Wolfie Says:

    Christians, I mean pagans, and their damn incense incense me to no end. The ancients were lucky, when a Roman (or barbarian) could give thanks to Jupiter unaccosted. Ah, to swing your buckler over your shoulder and head out with a pocket full of silver for rapine and conquest!

  2. Fenris Badwulf Says:

    I am confident that those days will come again, Wolfie.

    Either the Greenshirts will take us back to the horse (and back to the iron age of mail shirts, battle axes, and halberds), or the Pagans will get organized and get their proper share of entitlements and privileges.

    The erosion of rule of law is already here. Soon, more of the middle class will be reduced to poverty, and when they have nothing to lose, the fat, soft middle ranked activists and progressives will be food. After all, they are the ones with money, eh what? Just taking what you need to survive … what would a Haitian do?

  3. Wolfie Says:

    It does seem like a natural progression once a republic degenerates into a democracy or oligarchy. Half the people I know are living off of the government, but think that they produce.

  4. Steynian 444rd « Free Canuckistan! Says:

    [...] MITCHIEVILLE– Sunday morning, a time to reflect in bed; The Subversive Consumer; Nurse Kate Heals; MENSA [...]

  5. J.M. Heinrichs Says:

    “scutum”, not buckler.


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