The Odds Were One in Four
Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Today I'm taking a little excursion to my family property on Polish Mountain, 312 Johnson Road to be exact. I dearly love that place and can't wait to get there.
I've been moaning and groaning here at this space for five years, so I guess one more piece of bitching won't send you packing.
Every year the Fairie Festival at Spoutwood has ceremonies at which are chosen the King and Queen of the May. This is a right and proper Celtic custom, like the Maypole.
This year's festival has a new Master of Ceremonies, and he has written an elaborate ceremony for the coronation. He attached the script to an email, in which he wrote: "We will be quoting from Taliesin, The Bible, Buddha, and (forget the other one)."
Before I even opened the attachment, I said to myself, "I just know I'm going to get the Bible."
Sure enough. Song of Solomon.
We at "The Gods Are Bored" praise and worship each and every bored deity who has ever had a population of faithful. The one deity we don't care to recognize is YHWH, because He's busy enough and never bored. It's a bitter pill I have to swallow to do this, but I'll do it. Not sure why the OT was tapped for this, I guess it's so that we are "inclusive."
But why me?
Excuse me while I wallow in self-pity (Not really, it's not that important and will be over in a second, like a flu shot ... oh, wait. Flu shots hurt for hours.)
Do you think they'll notice if I substitute "Song of Myself?" It's a song.
Labels: made Anne emit a sardonic laugh