Summation- Ends and Beginings

I'm sad this is ending. From the first moment Professor Sexson walked in to the class and asked if this was the anthropology class and (happy to find it wasn't) started talking to us about mythologies being the precedent to every action, I was hooked. I have learned so much from this class about not only myth but life.

I've had so many people tease me about being an English Major (though they say teaching it is a slight improvement) in the last year. To hear Proffessor Sexson speak and make an argument for the arts and speak as if they not only had value, but had more value than business or science, well... it made me feel like I had found somewhere I belong.

I want to teach English because I love the stories and everything they teach you. There is nothing like putting down a book and feeling like you can't possibly be the same person as when you picked it up. Professor Sexson said in class on day "Education is not information; it's transformation. The point is not to fill your heads with facts but to be changed in the twinkling of an eye." This has stuck with me from the moment he said it because thats the feeling I love; the transformation.

 Todays is the last day of class. I haven't posted nearly enough of my thoughts from this class online but oh well. Even though it won't be graded I want to add all my class notes on here at some point just to save them somewhere digital. Each time I go back through I notice something I had forgotten, much like how each time we read Ovid we find something we missed.

But back to endings. I keep searching for the perfect way to sum up everything we have talked about over the last semester in the course. I can't seem to find the words but I know at the same time this is ending something new is beginning. I've already signed up for the Honors Mythologies class in the Fall and can't wait to see where that takes me. As for this summer I only hope that I can hone my mythic detective skills a little more and just remember that even though I am sad to see this end something else is starting that might be even better. And if not... Well I'm sure it will transform and change in to something new.

My Life as a Mythic Detective

Never an Ordinary Day

My Life as a Mythic Detective

I used to have many ordinary days. I would get up, go to class, eat, study, work, spend time with friends, and then go back to bed to without anything spectacular ever happening to me. I would grow bored with the monotony of life and wish to go out on adventures; backpacking with friends, tubing the Madison, or even just loosing myself in to the alternate realities of novels. I would grow frustrated with myself for focusing on work and school without a clear picture of why I was doing these things and why they were important. I lived a lot of my life on auto pilot, ignoring all the details that now sparkle at me like twinkling stars on a cloudless night.

My Friday began exactly where my Thursday ended; cuddled up in bed dreaming of the snake my 4th grade classroom kept as a pet. Her name was mini-mac and in my dream the whole class had been searching for her until my science teacher found her curled around a broom in the corner of the classroom. Just as he reached out to untangle her coils from the handle my alarm went off. “I met you before the fall of Rome. And I begged you to let me take you home. You were wrong, I was right You said goodbye, I said goodnight! It's all been done...” The Bare Naked Ladies song “Its all been done” startles me from the 4th grade classroom and back to my dorm room. Groaning slightly I get up and start getting ready for the day.

“It's all been done” still stuck in my head I find myself singing along before realizing what I am doing. Smiling, I remember something I once heard; That there is only one reason for being on Earth and that is to sing. Letting my mind wander I go back to the snake in my dream which so resembles the Aesculapius. I never feared snakes as a child regardless of the bad rap they got in my bible study class. I was always fascinated to watch mini-mac shed her skin because it seemed that she left another version of herself behind. It was no surprise to me to find out that in the story of Gilgamesh snakes are believed to be immortal. They leave their dead body behind and just slither away.

Later on that day while walking to my Education class I pass by a woman who was obviously pregnant. Her belly, just beginning to become round, shows evidence of her child. She reminds me suddenly of story of Bacchus's dual births, first from the mortal woman Semele, and second from the thigh of Zeus himself. I try to imagine for a moment what Zeus must have looked like with a baby belly stuck on his thigh. The image is odd for me until I remember how Zeus had impregnated Leda in the form of a swan and produced two eggs. I imagine the look of surprise that would occur on this poor woman's face if she were to birth egg, even if the most beautiful girl in the world were to hatch from it.

Class that day brought about a discussion on the common core standards for education in Montana and standardized testing. I have never been a fan of standardized testing and find it frustrating that funding for schools is liked to success on these tests. Education isn't about the information that must be know to pass these tests; education is about transformation. The point is not to fill your heads with facts but to be changed (as Professor Sexson puts it) in the “twinkling of an eye.” As I listen to the heated debate now brewing I consider my choice to be a teacher. I love English and specifically all of the stories that make up the subject in school, but many of my peers look down on my choice. They say that there isn't a point to having a high school English teacher because by that grade level the students know how to read and write and there isn't anything left to teach. What my peers don't realize is that I won't be trying to teach them anything; I just want to help them remember all of the things they already know. Just like Plato's story of how humanity lost its wings and and fell to the much and mud of Earth, I and my future students have forgotten the very things that will let us fly.

Classes end for the day and I head home, walking around the oval being torn up for the construction of Suite 3 behind North Hedges. The grass is torn up, the dirt exposed, and to the far side the mound of earth lies three trees uprooted. My heart sinks for a moment as I remember sitting underneath one of them in the shade last year with my boyfriend Phil talking about nothing and enjoying spring. Now it lies dead and the transformation of Daphne, undergone to avoid Apollo, is in vain.

After finishing the pile of chemistry homework on my desk, I decide to bake a batch of chocolate chip cookies. While mixing together the flour and brown sugar I remember Ceres the goddess of grain and other home related things. Though not as dramatic of a goddess as many others, her favor was of great importance for growing crops that produced the flour I use to bake my cookies. Waiting for the cookies to bake, I glance up at the fire panel on the wall. The panel reads “Cerberus Productions;” an obvious reference to the three headed dog that guards the underworld in mythologies. Yet another thing in my day that reminds me of Ovid. The timer beeps and I take out the cookies while imagining what it must be like to live in the underworld like Persephone did.

*Knock. Knock. Knock* Three times I hear the sound before I realize Phil is knocking at the kitchen door. The sun is setting behind him in the glass door, like Apollos chariot ridding out of sight. I let him in and we sit down for a couple warm cookies and a glass of cold milk each. “How was your day?” he asks me.

I smile and think about if for a second. I had dreamed, gotten up, went to class, done homework, worked, ate, made a batch of cookies, and these were all normal every day things but somehow my day was anything but ordinary. I noticed the connections between my life and the many stories about what has come before me. I saw the mythologies, the true stories, that precede me. Though I still have many clues left to discover my own mythological story before I end this life and begin a new one, I have taken a step towards being a mythic detective.

Finally, I answer him. “It was anything but ordinary.”

Just for a laugh...

I'm not usually to post random jokes I found on the Internet anywhere let alone a class blog but I couldn't help but share this. For anyone who isn't as big of a Disney nerd as me this scene is from Hercules when Meg is singing "Won't say I'm in love." And yes I was slightly disappointed.

Words- "Epic!" and "Myth"

Ever since listening to Fred Turner's presentation in class last week I've been hearing the word "epic" more often. Though I had heard friends and peers use "epic" to describe things that are "cool" or "awesome" I had never made the connection the epic poetry such as Homer's Iliad and Odyssey. Now when I hear my peers using, or when I use the word "epic" I smile and remember Turner's presentation.

In my Multicultural Education class I just finished up a presentation on Native American Literature. I had to create lesson plans to be implemented in an 11th grade English class and naturally, after enjoying this class so much, I choose to discuss Native American Creation Myths. I looked at two creation myths from different tribes, the Yupik and the Blackfoot tribes. In my presentation I briefly explained the two myths and what I would do in the lesson. Afterwards I was given written feedback from my peers about my presentation and I was sad to find that someone was severally insulted that I used the word "myth" to describe the creation stories from the Native American tribes. They said that I should not have used the word "myth" because to their culture these stories are what they believe in and see as true. Though initially I was upset that I was perceived as being culturally insensitive in a lesson designed specifically to be culturally sensitive, I realized this shouldn't be an issue. Over an over we have discussed that myths are the president to every action. They are going back to the origins, the beginning, and this is exactly what I was trying to teach my potential students. I wasn't insulting Native American Culture by calling their stories "myth;" I easily could have called the biblical creation story a "myth." I wish whichever of my peers wrote that feedback would take Professor Sexson's Mythologies class and see that the word "myth" has more to it than most people see.   

For anyone interested this is a video for part of the Yupik creation my preformed in the oral tradition style by Jack Dalton.

Also click on the picture for a link to the Blackfoot creation story if your interested.

Frederick Turner

Spring Evening

By Frederick Turner

Above the baby-powder clouds

The sky is china blue.

Soon, young and chattering, the crowds

Of stars come pushing through.

And this is the first dispensation,

The setting up of the odds;

This is the eve of creation,

This is the time of the gods.

I had only ever been to one poetry reading before the evening with Frederick Turner so I come in unsure what to expect. The reading I went to before was an awards ceremony of local writers who each got up and read the poem that won them an award and that was it. I enjoyed Turner's poetry a lot more than I did the most of "award winning" poems at the previous poetry event I had attended. 

Class last Friday was even better than the mesmerizing spoken poetry. I had never thought about the connection between the gaining of knowledge and a woman's pain in childbirth. I was also interested by the idea that death is intimately connected with knowledge, and that knowledge of death is one of the deepest kinds of knowledge. Overall I wish Turner would have had more time to speak with us. 

Oh and apparently Epic hates incest.

Opps! No sex changes!

So in class I mentioned that Hyena's do in fact change gender. Apparently I was wrong on that. I went home and did some research on the subject and that is in fact a myth (yes the use of that word was supposed to be ironic).
The female hyena is very often confused with the male hyena which is what started the idea that they change sex. If you want to read more about this I found a website that I linked below for everyone to read.

http://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/hyena.html

It explains the similarities in about the 9th paragraph down.

Sorry about the misinformation!!

Trees for Phil

 

It's all about trees.

Though we talked about this a lot earlier in the class I still can't help but notice when trees pop up in my everyday life. This Sunday was my boyfriend's (or significant otter as Dr. Sexson puts it) 20th birthday. At a loss as to what to buy a college age Physics major I recalled how the two of us spent several days working in his back yard in Colorado planting a rose garden together. He enjoys landscaping and gardening so the project was fun despite the hours moving dirt, pulling weeds, and building a retaining wall. I remember a conversation we had while we were planting the roses about how much work his family had put in to their backyard (which by the way is beautiful landscaped). As a bit of a hick from the middle of the woods in Alaska I never realized how much effort people in the lower 48 put in to their yards and how expensive the whole process was. When his family moved in there was nothing but a dirt lot behind the house and since then they have planted numerous trees, bushes, and flower gardens. I was surprised to find out that if they had had this done professionally it would have cost over $100,000. Even doing the work themselves the trees cost a ridiculous amount of money (in my mind) because they grow so slowly. In this memory I found the perfect gift.
I decided to buy him a tree, not a full sized tree mind you, but a small one that he can keep it in a pot in his apartment through college. This way by the time he is old enough to buy a house and settle down the tree will be big enough to plant in the ground. This way instead of spending a ton of money on a mature tree he will already have one started. I let him help choose which kind and we decided on a walnut tree. I suggested a Laurel in honor of Daphne but found out they won't grow very well where he has interest in living.
  

End Times- Fire or Ice

 When I think about the end of the world, the apocalypse, Robert Frost comes to mind. His poem, "Fire and Ice" has been one of my favorites since the first time that I read it in 5th grade.  It reads as follows:

Fire and Ice

By Robert Frost

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

After reading the last chapter of Ovid the idea of no end but merely change appeals to me more than destruction ice or fire the Frost's words still echo in my head.

Perpetual Flow of Energy

"The only reality is the perpetual flow of vital energy." Montale

I came across this quote in a book I was reading for my poetry class. It proceeded  Derek Mahon's poem "A Swim in Co. Wicklow."Though it took me a while to understand what the poems meaning was I realized it was all held in Montale's quote. The poem talks about the changes and flowing nature of water in all of its form; from the lakes, rivers, and woodland pools to the "swirl and spin" of the sea.

This theme struck a cord with me after reading the last chapter of Ovid for the second time. Like the flow of water or "virtual energy" Ovid explains that life is cyclical; nothing is ever destroyed but only changes. It exists in a closed circle of change.

"Nothing retains the shape of what it was, And Nature, always making old things new, Proves nothing dies within the universe, But takes another being in new forms." - Ovid

I thought Montale's quote fit nicely in to what we were talking about in class Monday so I figured I would share it. 

Mythologies in chemistry

This semester I've been taking a chemistry class which to be honest I hate. I'm an English major and I'm only taking the class to fulfill my science requirement and convince my boyfriend I don't want to study science. It's a lot of memorization of facts I will never use beyond this school year.  Needless to say that I never thought I would find any connection between mythologies and chemistry. In my mind these two things are opposite. 

I was wrong. Myth really is the pre ident to every action

 

In chemistry there is an idea called entropy. Entropy is defined as the gradual movement towards disorder. Basically (if your un-sciency like me) if you drop a pot on the floor it will shatter and break in to a thousand pieces. Once it is broken some other force is going to have to be applied to it if it is going to go back to the shape of a pot. You would have to pick up the pieces, organize them, and then glue them back together. Which is a lot of work. If you throw all of the pieces in the air they are not magically going to become a pot again. You can make similar analogies using chemicals but this is easier to understand. 

The same thing happens in Ovid. The world generally falls towards disorder. If both the first and last chapter of Ovid the idea of a Golden Age is discussed. Living things lived together in harmony, there was no war, and nothing was forbidden in the Golden Age. Then something changed and the Silver age began. The world became less perfect, it became more disordered. Ovid follows the rule of entropy, or more accurately the idea of entropy comes from Ovid. 

My mythic detective skills must be improving. :-) 

Displacement

            In Anchorage, Alaska two members of the Native council, Zachary High Mountain and his son John Swift Feet, were deciding the fate of the village of Atqasuk. The two men had discovered that the land the village of Atqasuk was located on was originally designated as part of a preservation in bill 138, but had not been handed over to the Inupiaq people. Before consulting the government to claim the land as a preservation and as their home they decided to visit the village to see what already existed there.

            High Mountain and Swift Feet's bush plane landed on Atqasuk's tundra airstrip just as the sun was setting. It was nearing the end of summer so this was at 11 pm. The hours of daylight fluctuate greatly this far North so the bush pilot was able to land this late in the night on the bumpy natural airstrip. Leaving the three man plane, High Mountain and Swift Feet took their bags, and with a gesture from the pilot in the right direction, began the mile walk from the landing site to the village.

            Atqasuk wasn't the most prestigious place in Alaska. The population was just under two hundred and the homes were mostly disheveled sheds, log cabins, and the occasional quonset hut. There was a small brick store/church/bar combination at the center of the village with a sign saying “Jack's all purpose” in pealing green paint. By the time High Mountain and Swift Feet arrived at Jack's it was 6 minutes till midnight. Deciding this was probably the best place to inquire about where a hotel might be located, they walked in to the bar end of the building and gazed through the smoky atmosphere towards the round faced bartender.

            “Where might we find a room to rent for the night?” High Mountain asked, coughing a bit on the smoke.

            “Rent? What like a hotel? The hotel’s roof collapsed last winter when we had that huge snow load. You must not be from around here. If I were you I would just start knocking on huts and see if anyone has a cot for you to borrow. I’d let ya stay here but we close soon and no ones allowed in the bar when we close.” Said the round faced bartender as he dragged on a cigarette.

            “Well thank you for the advice… I guess we will just head out then.” High Mountain said before leaving the bartender to his smoke.

            Unsure as to where to start the two men walked to the first hut after the bar. Nearly tripping on a worn out leather boot on the front heap Swift Feet knocked twice at the door. An agitated voice could be heard from the inside of the hut mumbling and grumbling about the hour of the night. A short squat man with a hole in his left sock opened the door and growled in a voice like gravel “who are you and what do you want?”

            “My name is High Mountain and this is my son Swift Feet and we are travelers looking for a place to stay…” *SLAM* The door was shut in their faces.

            The two weary travelers tried two more doors with similar reactions before, nearly asleep and haggard from their travel they came to the end of the road. It had reached the point where High Mountain had decided to take the land from these arrogant people simply out of spite as soon as they got back to Anchorage. Just when they were about to give up Swift Feet saw a tiny sign attached to a spruce tree that said “Baxters” with an arrow pointing down a narrow trail. Following the sign they arrived at the most worn-down log cabin they had ever seen. Knocking once, softly Swift Feet stood on the stoop hoping someone would be home.             

            “Did you hear something Love?” It was a woman’s voice this time that spoke from within the cabin.

            “ME? You know I can’t hear one gosh darn thing! Was it someone at the door?” An elderly man’s voice spoke this time especially loud as if he truly was partially deaf.

            “Yes I think so, let me go check” she said. Several seconds later an elderly woman opened the door to see the two travelers standing on her stoop. “Why who might you be gentlemen? What brings you to my humble home this late at night?”

           “My name is High Mountain and this is my son Swift Feet and we are travelers looking for a place to stay…” He paused at this point expecting to have the door shut on his face but when she continued to stand there he continued. “We are visiting the village and apparently the hotel had been damaged and is closed. Is there any way we could borrow a couple cots and a tent to spend the night?”

            “Why my dears you have nothing to worry about! My name is Lisa and we accept travelers at all hours of the day and night. Come in you must be starving! I’ll get you something hot to drink while my husband Larry goes and sets you up a place in the loft. We have plenty of room if you don’t mind being cosy. Larry! Wake up you silly husband of mine! We have guests!”

            Relived and happy to have a place to stay High Mountain and Swift Feet sat down at the slightly tilted table. Lisa, aghast that her table was broken, took a small book and placed it under the shorter leg before serving the men up some tea.

            “So gentleman! What brings you to a place like this at such a late hour?” Said Larry a bit too loudly.

            “Well,” said High Mountain. “We are here from Anchorage to survey the land to turn it in to a reservation. All of the inhabitants would have to leave if this happened, which searves them right for all of the rudeness we have experienced in the last 2 hours. But after such hospitality you have given us I think my son and I agree that your home will not be included in the report. You are a wonderful couple and I would hate to make you leave this wonderful place you call home.”

            Indeed when High Mountain and Swift Feet returned to Anchorage to claim the land of their ancestors they made sure to leave the home of Larry and Lisa alone.                                 

Symbols and Signs

The story Symbols and Signs by Vladimir Nabokov felt like a complicated mystery novel with the last chapter cut out. The whole story seemed to be pointing to some big idea or message but I felt like I missed what exactly it was. If I were to guess I would say that the last phone call at the end of the story isn't a wrong number but someone calling to tell them their son had successfully committed suicide. In class Professor Sexson talked about how things come in threes in fairy tales (which are essentially myths). He said the first time its chance, the second coincidence, but the third is always design. Someone could have accidentally called the same wrong number twice but a third time is too much. The only other reason someone would call at such a late hour is to give them terrible news; that their son is dead. Also in the story the husband has a horrible dream that makes him want to take his son out of the asylum. He says "We must get him out of there quick. Otherwise, we’ll be responsible.... Responsible!” as if something terrible was going to happen to the boy if they did not act quickly.

If my mythic guessing above is actually right I am at a bit of a loss as to what all of the other little "trifles" (the little details that are so specific that they seem important) are pointing to. The jelly jars bug me the most. The story ends with the husband listing the kinds of jelly that are in the jars and he ends with crab apple. Why crab apple? My guess was that crab apples are sour and unpleasant like the news he is presumably getting with the third and final phone call.

So why did we read this sad story for a mythologies class? I think it was to train us in the ways of being a mythic detective. Detectives look for clues to solve a great mystery and this story was full of clues without a lot of answers. This story seemed to have the message that paying attention to details and coincidences is very important.

Diego Velazques

So we have talked about this painting for some time already in class but I will attempt to add my own incite.

This painting is a representation of the story in Ovid of Arachne and
Athena. The older looking woman on the right hand side of the image is Athena. She appears to be talking to the woman directly to the left of her who is holding the red curtain. Though initially I didn't think much of this I wonder if the one bright color in the painting might be significant. This might be an awareness of end of the story. The bright red is usually a symbol of blood and though Arachne doesn't die she is transformed in to a spider; a horrific result.
On the right side of the image are several other women who are in the process of spinning. Though I am unsure of which of the women is Arachne specifically I would guess that she is the one in the foreground wearing the dark blue shirt and white shirt.
Overall the front of the picture seems to be the process of spinning. The back of the picture seems to be a presentation of one of the tapestries. I would guess it is Arachne's tapestry because it is a large image with smaller images around the sides. Though the smaller images are unclear the larger one doesn't seem to depict anything that is flattering to the gods and goddesses. Again I am not sure who is who in the back of the painting.
Overall I can slightly understand why it took so long for people to see that this painting is actually about the story of Arachne. Velazques didn't include an image of Arachne in the form of a spider which is the result of the story.

Orpheus- Coincidence of Stones

"As he stretched out his hands, speaking ineffectually for the first time ever, not affecting them in any way with his voice, the impious ones murdered him: and the spirit, breathed out through that mouth to which stones listened, and which was understood by the senses of wild creatures – O, God! – vanished down the wind."

After reading the story of Orpheus and discussing it in class I was struck by one line in Ovid. It talked about how beautiful Orpheus's music was and mentioned that even the stones were awestruck listening to him. Even the stones. How amazing of a musician must a man be to entertain inanimate objects? Something that never notices anything about the world or moves or does anything, listens to Orpheus.

The quote I used above is actually about Orpheus's death but it proved my point. 

A week after hearing the story of Orpheus I was in the bathroom on the first floor of AJM and looked up to see a single white rock sitting on the counter. After wondering why the rock was sitting in such an odd location I though of Orpheus singing to the rocks. Though probably not the most inspiring of coincidences I reminded me of mythologies. Maybe next time I will try and sing to it and see if it listens.

I'm going to take a picture of it later and put it here....

  

My Pain Initiation- Pulling Teeth

So I found it fitting that we are currently studying the initiation portion of mythologies durring this moment in my life. Like many of you know I had my wisdom teeth taken out last Thursday. Though not a traditional pain initiation like those stories we heard and presented it did have an element of pain.
I have never liked the dentist so when I realized I needed this procedure done I was less then thrilled. Take my fear of dentists and add on my fear of needles (I choose full anesthesia so had to have an IV) and that basically sums up the joy of last week.
I don't remember much of that afternoon thanks to some wonderful drugs they pumped in to me. I vaguely remember looking for my boyfriend when I "woke up" (I was still pretty loopy) and having trouble talking. I don't really remember much else until I got home and was sitting in my bed looking down at the blood that I was apparently drooling on to my t-shirt. Basically gross. If you have never had your gums bleed I can tell you it is one of the slimiest feelings ever. I thought that head wounds bleed the most but I would argue that incisions in your mouth are worse because they are so hard to stop. I tasted blood consistently for 24 hrs at least and still have moments where I can taste it now, six days later.
Though my "initiation" was not nearly as extreme or as painful as those we have spoken about in class I do have a new respect for the women of the Mentawai tribe of West Sumatra who sharpen their teeth. They didn't have IV's or Vicodin or even advil to dull the pain, all of which was available for me to use. These women hurt themselves physically to look attractive; I went through a surgery because without it I wouldn't have room in my mouth for the extra teeth. For these women beauty really is pain. 

Vrs. 

Initiation Story

"Uh, betray us, and I will fong you, until your insides are out, your outsides are in, your entrails will become your extrails I will w-rip... all the p... ung. Pain, lots of pain." ~ A Knights Tale

I wanted to start this blog out with something funny because honestly the rest of my initiation story is pretty well, gory. The movie a Knights Tale is one of my favorite comedy and Wat (the character speaking in the quote above and on the right of the image) chooses to threaten Chaucer (left and yes he is naked) with the very thing many tribes and cultures have used to make boys in to men: Pain.

The story I will be telling in class tomorrow is just one of those initiation stories of pain. It is how the boys of the Kaningara Tribe of Papua New Guinea become men. The process begins with a two month long seclusion from the women and hildren of the tribe. The boys spend this time in the spirit house learning the secrets, song cycles, genealogies, and other spiritual knowledge from the older men of the tribe. It is ecentially their education in beliefs and myths of the tribe. During this time the initiates are dominated by the men in the tribe through taunting and other rituals. They are forced to bathe in the waters of the Blackwater River at dawn every morning and observe taboos such as a strict diet and not being allowed to sit on a stool. The diet consists of mainly fish, sago, and certain vegetables which, in combination, cause the initiate to gain an extra layer of fat that is useful in the later stages of the ritual. These taboos and trials are designed to make the initiate feel the helplessness of childhood and powerless in comparison with the men of the tribe. 
The final and most gruesome part of this ritual is skin cutting. The day before the cutting begins is filled with constant dancing and singing. The boys must hold a stick of ginger in their mouthes without loosing it for the entire time or else be hit with a switch. After a night without sleep, at around 5 am, the young men are taken one final time to the cold waters of the Blackwater river to test against hypothermia and numb their skin. After this they are led back to the spirit house and told to sit in a circle while the elders drop pieces of sago on the young men for a last meal. Individually they are helped up and led to beds of banana leaves. Finally the elders sit behind them and begin cutting the pattern of a crocodile in to the boy's back and chest. After the cutting is completed the men are given oil from a tree to heal their cuts and river mud is applied to promote infection so that the scars become large and raised like the scaled skin of a crocodile.  



I also found this video that describes the ritual. This is the link to the original page:
 http://listverse.com/2010/07/17/10-incredibly-painful-rites-of-initiation/



The story and description of this ritual can be found at:
 http://www.larskrutak.com/articles/Papua/

Zulu Creation Myth

A direct link to the pfd of my creation (Zulu) myth is here:

http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=3&sqi=2&ved=0CEAQFjAC&url=http%3A%2F%2Fhq.scisdragons.net%2Fxkruger%2Ffiles%2F2011%2F08%2FOriginStoryZulu.pdf&ei=fWkQUYzbEqvNigKlkoG4Bw&usg=AFQjCNEUD7KaFTRxGjsCE6ITI98POPjdCw&sig2=OlUsIQNEwl8wB3ryGLEzwQ&bvm=bv.41934586,d.cGE

For anyone who doesn't want to read it in its entirety I will sum it up for you.

In the beginning there was a swamp whose name was Uhlanga. One day the Sky God, who is called the Great One came down from the heavens and asked the swamp to marry him. She agreed and from their union the whole world was created.
Shortly after their union the Great One noticed two different colored vines growing out of the swamp. He picked the vines, looked at them again and declared "from these vines I will make humans!" So the Great One made two humans, one male and one female, and they became the ansestors of all of mankind.
The Great One decided to give gifts to his new humans so he said "My creations need light!" and he threw the sun, moon, and stars in to the sky. Then he said "Let there be animals in the forest and fish in the see. Let there be insects in the grasses and birds in the air." And as he spoke all of these things came in to being. Finally he said "Let there be water for my creations to drink and fire so they can cook their food." And these things came in to existence as well.
The Great One decided to give the humans one more gift so he called to the Chameleon and told him to climb down the vines that connect to Earth and give the humans this message: "All of my creations will never die."
So the Chameleon began to climb down to Earth and as he did he thought "I had better go slow and be careful not to fall and it probably won't matter if I stop and eat a few of these tasty leaves."
Meanwhile the Great One was reconsidering the final gift he gave the humans. Changing his mind he called to Lizard. He said "Lizard, go down to Earth and tell my creations my commandment: All of my creations will eventually die. But you must hurry, once my word is spoken to the people it will become the truth."
"I will hurry Great One!" said the Lizard and then he rushed down to Earth.
When he Lizard arrived on Earth he gathered all of the Great One's creations and spoke "I have a message from the Great One: All of my creations will eventually die." The people heard the message and continuted on with their day.
Some time later the Chameleon finally made his way down to Earth. He gathered all of the Great One's creations and told them, "I have a message from the Great One: All of my creations will never die." The people looked around confused. Finally one man spoke up, "But the Lizard just told us that the Great One decreed that we will all eventually die."
The Chameleon sighed and hung his head. "I have done a horrible thing. Because of my tardiness all creatures will die."
This is why no one lives forever.  

Trees!

Here I am surrounded by trees, it felt a little like all three trees were trying to hug me. :-) Maybe Daphne was a little lonely.

Class Notes 5- Jan 18

Recursive structures- stories with in stories up to 6 levels. These are often found in movies
Reticular Activation- What happens when you completely commit to an idea or action and then the world seems to draw in that idea or thing towards you.


Why Greek Men Have Small Butts-
Leda was raped by Zeus in the form of a swan and laid two eggs. From one egg came Helen and Clytemnestra and from the other Castor and Polydeuces.
Castor and Polydeuces decided that they were going to go down to Hades and try and steal away Persephone. When they arrived Hades told them that it was fine if they took his wife and that he would even go get her for them all then had to do was wait for him on a bench. Castor and Polydeuces sat and waited for Hades to come back. When they arrived Castor and Polydeuces discovered they were stuck to the bench with super glue from hell. Many years later Hercules pulls one of the brothers off of the bench and he leaves a little behind behind.

Class Notes 4- Jan 16

Asclepeion- a large temple with small rooms with a bed inside. The idea was that if you fell asleep in the temple and dreamed of a snake or the healing god then you would wake and your illness would be healed.

Epiphany- appearance of manifestation, especially a deiaty. Also defined as a sudden realization. 

Adonis-was born of a tree

Gardens of Adonis- shallow pots that grow seeds quickly and then die quickly.

Orpheus- wonderful musician who could charm animals, people and rocks with his music. Also tried and failed to save his wife from Hades

 The last question by Isaac Asimov 

The doors of Perception by Aldous Huxley

"You can only be distracted in to the truth." Professor Michael Sexson

To some cultures the dream world is REAL and daily life is not.

To do: Find/practice creation myth, hug a tree, continue reading

Pickles before bed

"Because dreams were more real than reality, even in a five year olds mentality"

I've always loved dreaming. The quote above is actually a line from a poem I wrote about being a kid for a class a couple of years ago. In high school I did some research on lucid dreaming. Lucid dreaming is basically when you realize that you are dreaming while asleep and are able to control your dreaming world. There are lots of theories about what you can do to increase your chances of lucid dreaming but like we talked about in class keeping a notebook next to your bed to write down what you dream about (dream journal) is one thing nearly everyone who studies dreams sugests just to become aware of your dreams. I kept one for a while and actually was able to control a few dreams (flying is SO cool)!

We were asked to go home and dream. Just so I didn't bore you with dreams about chemistry I made sure not to fall asleep studying again.

I was sitting in the passenger seat of a blue pickup truck driving down the road. The driver (I think he was the dad of a friend of mine but it was a little fuzzy) pulled in to this drive through arches made of bright colored legos. There was a line of cars in front of me and the arches continued down the road and as we drove up to the second arch the windshield of the truck rolled down like a normal window would. Then a box lowered down from the arch we were under and moved right in front of of us. The tray was filled with little lego men and lego heads. The driver looked over the tray of lego men and picked several out. 

So what does that mean? Maybe I'm a kid at heart and miss building my own world out of the brightly colored blocks. Maybe I've spent too much time looking at and making advertising for the RA selection  which was lego themed (build your community, build your world). Or maybe I ate too many pickles before bed. 

Class Notes 3- Jan 14th

Sesquipedalian~ someone who uses long words
Psyche~ soul
The call to adventure~ 1st stage of myth. Something calling you to head off in to the unknown.
Bacchus~ The God of wine and merriment
Transformation~ middle, change as result of the call to adventure.

Everything is alive; trees and rocks are sentient creatures.
All Fairy tales are degenerate or deteriorated myths.
There is a woman behind every myth. It’s Chick Lit!
Separation, initiation, return.

Monomyth:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monomyth

“Wink at you in a way you’ve never been wunk at before” Professor Michael Sexson
“Education is NOT information. It’s transformation. The point is not to fill your heads with facts but to be changed in the twinkling of an eye.” Professor Michael Sexson
“What’s new? Nothing is new.” Professor Michael Sexson
“If you don’t like it just wait and it will change” Professor Michael Sexson

Hero With a Thousand Faces by Joseph Campbell
After Ovid: New Metamorphoses by Michael Hofmann and James Lasdun
“All at one point” from Cosmicomics by Italo Calvino

Goal: Be alert to what you see, say, and do.
Assignments: Continue reading. Hug a tree and post the picture on your blog.

Class Notes2- Jan 11th

Psyche~ the most beautiful woman. Cupid fell in love with her.
Sparagmos~ tear, rend, pull to pieces, tear apart or mangle.
Carman~ Musical
Psychology~ the study of the mind

Beginning: Creation
Middle: Patterns of Initiation that usually include pain.
End: Death,  sparagmos.

“Food for worms” ~ Shakespeare
“The worms go in. The worms go out. The worms play pea knuckle on my snout.”

Class Notes1- Jan 9th

One thing our syllabus said is that we should have one blog post for each class so I am going to make a point to post my notes from the lessons. They might seem a bit garbled but hopefully they are understandable.

Mythos~ Story
Mythology~ The precedent behind all actions.
Precedent~ What comes before.
Inklings~ A group made up of CS Lewis, Tolkien and other noted authors
Metamorphoses~ Change, transformations
In ilio tempore~ In  the great time, in the big time
Logos~ The word or the truth.
Moses~ He who was drawn from the water

“History is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.” A quote from Ulysses by James Joyce.
                                  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ulysses_(novel)
“Everything goes back to myth.”
“There is only one reason for being on earth and that is to sing”

The story of Mary and Martha: Mary is sitting at the feet of Jesus and he is telling stories. Martha is in the kitchen doing the dishes. Jesus tells them that Mary has make the right choice by listening to the stories.

Mythological path is 1. Separation 2. Initiation 3. Return

Assignments: Read Ovid's Metamorphoses and find a creation myth

The Creation Story of a New Blog

"Now I shall tell of things that change, new being

Out of old: since you, O Gods, created

Mutable arts and gifts, give me the voice

To tell the shifting story of the world

From its beginning to the present hour."

~Ovid's The Metamorphoses

Now I shall tell you my own story; a story that also tells of things that change. "What are these changing things?" you might ask. The answer to that question is yet uncertain. It may be that the only thing this class changes for me is the amount of credits I've taken here at MSU and possibly my GPA. It may be that this class changes my currently limited knowledge on myths and stories. It may be that this class changes how I see the world today and my arguments for why I as (hopefully) a future English teacher deserve a job even when we live in a society that pushes us to strive for math, science, and engineering based jobs.

One thing has changed already: I have a blog. So here on my borrowed netbook (my poor beloved laptop died over break, but that’s another story) I can share with you my thoughts and ramblings as I read the Ovid’s The Metamorphoses. I apologize in advance for my spelling; for an English major that is one of my downfalls. Other than that I hope you don’t find me too boring.

~Carol