I won’t say that May Day (der Tag der Arbeit) is a subdued affair beyond the land of the Franks by any means (there are quite a lot of protest rallies and demonstrations happening—which I was curious to see but I don’t think I should go looking for trouble today), but I did not appreciate the clear demarcations of customs and traditions and the holiday rather snuck up on me, without the Maypoles (Maibรคume) being set up.
It makes some sense, however, jenseits (this side) of the Limes—the limits of the Roman Empire and thus the civilised world, that conquests would have tamped out some heathen celebrations. The follow-on missions of Christianity did not attempt to totally quash but rather integrate and co-opt such behaviour. No one really knows the origin of the beams, temporary totem-poles, regaled and danced around, but some theorise that the tree represents the axis on which the world turns or the cosmological Yggdrasil that connects the nine worlds of Norse mythology. The bit about the ruckus of the night before, Walpurgis, might be a religious conceit, saying that witches gather to dance with their gods or commune with the devil—although it must have always been observed in some manner and with meaning (though now lost) as a cross-quarter day, exactly half a year on towards the harvest festival of Samhain (Halloween). Superstition holds that one will meet a witch on May Day, which old witch and probably why it is a good idea not to go looking for trouble since it knows where to find you.
Wednesday 1 May 2013
axis mundi or you got to pick up every stitch
Tuesday 30 April 2013
full-stop or conjunction-junction what’s your function?
An English professor is soliciting from her students new slang terms and the daily contributions are showing language’s innovation rather than its corruption or languor. They’re mostly pet-words but immediately intelligible and some even gaining currency.
sympathetic resonance or the drink-whisperer
Monday 29 April 2013
sjรถrnustrรญรฐ: nรฝ von
Here is a picture of the mayor of Reykjavik, Jรณn Gnarr Kristinsson—an actor, bassist and comedian besides, casting his ballot. It’s his business of course whom he voted for, but I’ll wager as a free-agent himself and founder of the Best Party (Besti flokkurinn) whose platform promised listening more to women and old people since those groups tend to be marginalised, he’s not in lock-step with the old guard.
catagories: ๐ช๐บ, ๐ฎ๐ธ, revolution, Star Wars
Sunday 28 April 2013
vom bamberg bis zum grabfeldgau
There is a saying that there can be no nation without an anthem (keine Nationen ohne Hymne), and while poet and novelist and Auslander, hailing from Karlsruhe in the Duchy of Hessen and by Rhine, Joseph Viktor von Scheffel intended no overtones of political secessionism or dangerous patriotism when he composed the lyrical anthem of the Franconia region (das Frankenlied). I think it was pure exultation and inspiration that he found while on retreat for the summer in 1859, in the midst of a march-writing craze, as a guest of Cloister Banz and explored Little Switzerland (die frรคnkische Schweiz), which the people later adopted as a regional symbol. Apparently, school children learn the song, rife with references to Franconia’s cities, landmarks and lore, and there’s even the robust refrain “Valeri, Valera.”
Valer-rah-ha-ha-ha-ha! Much of the matter of the lyrics touch on what von Scheffel could take in from his terrace, the peaks each with their own myths, the remainders of Celts, Mongols, the French and the Americans that also passed through. The words are wonderful and genuine, and who wouldn’t just visiting want to break into song with praise for this area. There is a priceless element of pomp to it too, which I suppose resides in all anthems and similar state-songs, like Rule Britannia! (von Scheffel also composed that summer rhymes about dinosaurs when a scientist who was also in residence showed him his fossil discoveries), which I won’t identify, not wanting (nor willing) to take away from this enduring double-rainbow moment and enduring pride.