Newsletter for August, 1997 ce
You might notice that the newsletter is a mite thinner than usual this month. We're all desperately trying to get ready for Dragonfest, packing and cooking and rewriting our rituals and discovering commitments we made last year and forgot about until today, and discovering where the tent has sprung its latest leak...you get the idea, I'm sure. Plus, our honorable (I use the term loosely) editor has to work right up until he leaves for Dragonfest and is therefore not able to get this edition out as early as it needs to be. (In case you're wondering, this is gypsy typing and formatting, which explains a few other little discrepancies you might have noticed...)
Our regular format and columns will return next month. In the meantime, those of you who will be attending Dragonfest, we look forward to seeing you there. Thos who will not, we'll certainly miss you, but hope to see you all at the next Open Full Moon, which is August 15.
Morningstar performed the July OFM with their usual flair for finding the magickal in just about anything. In this case, they uncovered the hidden magickal message in a 1960's sitcom and it was delightful. (I really enjoyed the Skipper's snoring, and Gilligan's sailor's gait, and the introduction and conclusion from "Rod Serling" were worthy of some kind of award.) In honor of this ritual, at the end of this newsletter, I am including a filk I wrote last year on a dare.
The August Open Full Moon will be held on Friday, August 15th beginning at 7:30 PM, at the First Unitarian Church, 1400 Lafayette, in Denver.
We have not been able to contact the people who are doing the August Open Full Moon (we have now --Alia). We have no doubt they are in the same pre-Dragonfest panic we are in. But we can assure everyone that they are experienced in public ritual and we are confident that the August OFM will be one worth attending.
Just sit right down and you'll hear a tale
a tale of a fateful rite
That started in a temple room
On a dark, suburban night.
The priest was a man with a way with words,
The priestess loved the runes.
Five coveners joined them that night
To celebrate the moon.
The priest he called Cernunnos and
The priestess, she called Bast.
The coveners got nervous when
the pair arrived at last.
"A hunter I am, brave and sure."
Cernunnos said with pride.
"Oh, hiss!" spat Bast. "If you saw me
In the wildwood, you would hide!"
"Oh, Egypt's joy you are, I note,"
Cernunnos said with glee.
"A cat who cares for nothing but
Her napping spot and tea."
Bast she did prepare to pounce.
Cernunnos drew his bow.
The coveners withdrew to the west
To hide from the coming blows.
The priest he spoke up hastily.
Said "Let's bring this to an end!"
The priestess said with equal speed,
"Merry part and meet again!"
The circle did dissolve in mist.
And the coveners drew breaths.
They'd been sure this was the last --
That this rite would be their deaths.
"That's what we get for mixing up
The pantheons this way."
The priest he shrugged and the he said,
"We'll all recall today."
The priestess rolled her eyes and said,
"Don't be a pompous ass!
It's just what happens when a hunter meets
a predator in the grass."
They returned to their homes that night.
To ponder the mystery
Of what had caused the spectacle
Of battling diety.
Was it wrong to call a British god
With an ancient Egyptian cat?
Or was it just the gods' own way
Of having some fun with that?
In the years that passed no answers come
Though they try all that they may.
They just remember the final words
Of both the gods that day.
"Just sit back and enjoy the show.
And smile whene'er you might.
We are the gods of earth and sky.......
Here in Gilligan's Rite!"
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