……………..Well, the disclaim is just that…. if any of these songs offended you, well it’s my life. Imagine how I feel. The first song illustrates my parents marriage. They never should have married, and basically did it because of me. My mother has told me that when they came home from the wedding, he as much as told her that he owned her. No one ever came out and told me that it was my fault, but the way everyone in the family treated me, I was just a reminder of all the bad things that happened in the first few years of my life. My great grandmother was especially harsh to me because I reminded her of my father. It has only been in the last few years that anyone has acknowledged how she treated me. She would lie to my mother about my behavior just to get me in trouble. And no one understood why I didn’t like my grammy and why I’d hide from her. School was really the last straw. Every year it got worse as all the other children turned into robots, and I climbed into my books. It all came to a head in high school when I considered suicide. Even though I decided to hang around, it took years to develop a self esteem. I had to step away from everything I saw in the people around me that disgusted me. I had to draw a line inside myself where my own sensibilities could shelter and grow. I had to become something different, something I could be proud of. For a long time, I hated everyone. Because the world didn’t seem to approve of me, I learned to laugh at them… much better than hate. I learned to laugh at myself. Still, I had to find a way to get rid of all that vitriol inside me… get it out in words… hence my literary aspirations. Even if I am a little morbid…. that sells books too.

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The Furry Dance in the Cornish Town of Helston is one of the world’s oldest surviving spring festivals. Though it is now dedicated to St. Michael the Archangel, the name may come from Flora, the Roman goddess of spring flowers, or from a Celtic word for fair. The Furry Dance is always held on May 8th, unless this day falls on a Sunday or Monday. A daylong series of processions, first of the young men and women, then the prominent citizens, is held. Assembled in long lines led by a band, people weaving in and out of houses and gardens, good luck following in their footsteps. Dancing in towns through out the country was once common on this day.

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Theosophists commemorate the death of Madame Helena Petrovna Blavatsky on this day, which they call White Lotus Day.

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During Lemuria, Romans thought the gates between this world and the next opened on the ninth, eleventh, and thirteenth, allowing restless lemures to pour through into our world. At midnight, when all things are sleeping and silent, worshipers brought gifts to the dead and made the la fica or mano fica (fig) sign against the evil eye (made by closing all the fingers into a fist, and thrusting the thumb between the first and second fingers). The male head of every household performed a midnight ritual on each of the three nights of the festival. After washing his hands three times, he would walk through the house, spitting or tossing black beans behind for the ghosts. Washing his hands again, he would strike a brass vessel and call out nine times, “Shades of my father, depart” or “These I cast; with these beans I redeem me and mine.” The ghost is thought to gather the beans, following unseen behind.

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On the 25th day of Payni, The Akhet Eye pleases Ra.

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Had an interesting dream last night, very puzzling and symbolic. I don’t think I’ve had such a symbolic dream since the bone-woman. There was a woman who would imbue others with a… I don’t even know what to call it. The people she gave this thing to would strip naked and have patterns appear on their skin, lines and circles like the circuit of planets and rainbow rain drop ripples which responded to touch but also foretold the future. All of the people who received this gift would die within a short amount of time, but for all that, they sought out the woman and asked to be given this “power.” Once they received it, they were exultant with the belief that they were part of something greater than themselves. They didn’t mind that they would die as soon as she took the power back. She would read the future on their skin.

The woman who gave this power to others gave it at the direction of these beings who had somehow taken the power to be the actual conduit from her, and given her instead only the ability to share it with others. They told her when to give it, but not who to give it to. She had to plot to get her power back as her own, instead of giving it to others and killing them when she removed it. With each person she gave it to, she read who was most like herself, and each time she bestowed the favor of her power on others, it became more attuned to her through them. So that with the last person she took her power back from, she became imbued with her own power, immortal and free from those who had oppressed her, because they could not take it from her again.

Lord_Wu did a really good job with the Writer’s Choice Featured Question 3d. In fact, he’s inspired me to give it a shot, but that will have to wait until tomorrow.

I also plan to go to the college tomorrow and see about getting into classes come fall, since no one ever called me back. Jerks. I hope it’s not too late to apply for financial aid for the fall semester. I refuse to take out loans. I know too many people still paying off their college loans with nothing to show for it. If I didn’t feel completely out of my depth when it comes to business, I wouldn’t even consider going back to school. I mean, it’s not that I even like money, but I acknowledge that money is a necessary evil in pursuit of my goal of owning my own business, and to ensure that the business is profitable and taken seriously by banks and govermental bestowers of businesswoman type grants, I feel I have to take this step. Apparently, the universe is going to make me work for it.

I encountered three different spiders, no four, at work and at home in the last few days. One on Monday at work which I set outside using my papers, one itty bitty jumper on my car door today when I got out of work, a huge albino one on the toilet when I got home, and one chunky black speedy jumper on the backdoor step when I let the albino spider out. I’d say they were all wolf spiders, but I can’t figure out what they’re trying to tell me, unless it’s just that they approve of me starting my webnovel. Spiders do oversee the spinning of tales. Spiders are one of my spirit animals. At the moment, I’d say they’re the most active. It used to be that snakes were my main animals and I’d dream about them all the time. Then it was ravens in the waking world and dreams. But while I still see ravens just about every day, the spiders seem to have something to say lately. Betcha I dream about them too in the near future. In my dreams, I usually see whole black swarms of mini-spiders. They rarely do me any harm, but it sure is creepy to see that many spiders, even in a dream.

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Thargelia was a celebration held by the ancient Greeks and Ionians in honor of Apollo on the isle of Delos, his birth place.

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For the record, let me state that I have never smoked anything, legal or otherwise. Of course, my mom’s smoked enough for the both of us. Apparently I was the “angel dust” baby… My allergies are such however, that certain smells do a whammy on my sinuses, the smell of marijuana is one of those smells (as well as coffee, wet dog, Chinese food, wet paint, new carpet…). It positively makes me want to throw up, even when I don’t have a migraine. Maybe it’s a suppressed memory from my childhood? Couldn’t say.

But despite all that, I think marijuana should be legal. I don’t like the smell and I know it’s bad for people, but it’s no worse in either respect than cigarettes or cigars. And if cigarettes, alcohol, caffeine, and sugar are legal, so too should marijuana be. It’s really no worse for people than these other (legal) drugs. In fact, you never hear of any potheads going on a violent bender and killing a bunch of people. Mostly because they can’t spare the time between the munchies.

But all silliness aside, marijuana has many uses beyond the recreational. First, it is medicinal, topically and internally. Aside from helping people who suffer from nausea due to cancer (that’s an irony right there for me), it also relieves the pressure due to glaucoma, and the oils from the pressed seeds are good for the skin and hair. They are also high in the Omega acids which are good for a variety of health problems. Marijuana and related plants are also full of fibers which are good for a variety of purposes, from hemp cloth and rope to paper. And because it grows so quickly as compared to trees, it would halt deforestation virtually over night.

Marijuana is not the great evil our government and the tobacco industry wants us to think it is. Sure I don’t like that my parents smoked it, but I don’t like that my mom smokes cigarettes either. I wish she didn’t smoke at all because the smell gets to me, and I’d really rather not think she might get cancer some day. But if I had to make a choice between her going back to pot or going for a bottle of booze, I’d rather have my mom smoking. Not that she drinks… apparently it doesn’t agree with her… though I’ve seen her knock back white Russians like they were nothing. (Yuck) I’ve also seen her sick as a dog and hunkered over a toilet bowl, puking out her guts.

The only reason it is illegal is because it would cut into the tobacco industry’s profits and therefore the government’s as well. And the government is so used to saying no on this topic, that they won’t even consider the benefits. For instance, Travelerblue’s idea of making it legal and “taxing the crap out of it.”

In many respects, our government is very short sighted. Both in regards to the short term and the long term decisions they make. Marijuana, rather contributing to the troubles that currently plague our society, could actually help on many levels.

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The Norwegian pagan martyr, Eyvind Kelve, was murdered on the orders of King Olaf Trygvason when he would not give up his faith.

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In 1938, the Long Island Church of Aphrodite was established in West Hempstead, New York, by the Rev. Gleb Botkin, a Russian author and son of the court physician to the last czar of Russia.

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five questions for this week
(unfeatured questions stolen from the featured question chatboard, dated from August of 2007)

A. Should marijuana be legalized? Why?
xAMBERROSE

B. What is your biggest regret?
Completely_Compelled

C. What things tempt you the most?
MyPaperHeartWontBleed_XO

D. Using song lyrics from no more than 10 songs, create a summary of your life. Elaborate afterwards.
Knoyze

E. Do you think that following a religion you don’t believe in is blasphemy?
fiNdxmExgoNe

Answer any one or all of these questions in the coming week. I try to mix the whimsical with the serious here, so hopefully there is at least one question here for everyone.

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In parts of Mexico and Central America, priests offer prayers to the rain god or goddess today.

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Tango no Sekko is the Japanese Boys’ Festival. Carp kites fly from bamboo poles at each house for each boy in the household.

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The 21st day of Payni is the Day of the Living children of Nut.

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Featured_Grownups

May 2008 Topic 1 of 2
~Infomercial~

Have
you ever had a super – fabulous - awesome idea only to see it marketed
soon after?  I swear I invented spray salad dressing (although I am not
a fan of the new store version)…

This
is your opportunity to sell us your idea … come’on now, get your
creative juices flowing and give us your best sales job…

Do you have a talent to sell us, product, book, poem, song, diet plan, money saving idea…

Actually, I have had an idea for an IPOD holder/dock that I think is kind of cool. I was thinking that someone, probably not me with my limited sewing ability, could make stuffed animals with an IPOD dock inside so that you can carry the stuffed animal around or put it in a child’s bed or crib and have the music play from it while you sleep instead of using an IPod stereo or ear buds.

Basically, you’d have a speaker and a cable to clip the IPod to the speaker. Then you could just zip it up or Velcro it shut. Now personally, I’m thirty-four and I wouldn’t mind having one of these myself, but I think they’d probably go over much better with new parents who maybe want to download their kids music or classical music and allow the child to carry it with them instead of having an IPod stereo dock. Besides, not everyone likes earbuds or headsets, etc. I know they irritate my ears after a few hours, and kids have smaller ears, so something like this would be especially nice for them.

For kids, the teddy bear would probably be the first template right off the bat, followed by whatever cute and cuddly critters appeal to buyers… pigs, cows, monkeys, etc. For adults though, I think I’d go a little oddball…. like the giant plush microbes, iconic figures like Voltaire, the Gorillaz, or anime, or just generally odd creatures. Considering everyone downloads different music into their IPod, each machine already has its own “personality.” Giving your IPod a plush body would just finish the process.

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This is the sixth and last day of the Floralia.

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The Irish limited any travel they might have planned for the day to foil mischievous fairies. Wearing the coat inside out was a good fairy deterrent, and a bribe of tea and bread left on the doorstep was also effective.

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The hawthorn is honored today at the festival of the Veneration of the Thorn. This is a festival of modern origin that may have been adapted from the Night of Lunantisidhe on May 16th which honors the fairy spirits of hawthorns. Holy bushes and trees marking sacred places and wells are acknowledged and new scraps of clothe were tied to their branches.

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Not much to say today….

I’ve been thinking of starting a “webnovel” lately. I tried the webcomic route, but my art just isn’t good enough to carry the story. I’m a passable artist, but I’m no great artiste. I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to be able to paint the picture in words. Unless I find an artist interested in illustrating for me…. but that can turn into a power struggle, or so I’ve heard, and besides most comic artists have their own ideas for stories already.

But when I write, I am not so much transposing my vision to paper (or in this case, screen), I am sculpting art from a block of marble, deftly removing chunks of “nothing” to reveal what was already there. I sit down to write, and things just appear there that I didn’t even know were in me.

I’m not sure if I’ll be posting the webnovel here at Xanga or elsewhere. I have to look into where the best place would be, but I’ll let you guys know. I’m not sure how many of my regular readers like horror, or as HP Lovecraft called it, Science Fantasy, but I’ll post links here when I’ve updated. I’ve been told I write like some weird combination of Lovecraft and Hitchcock.

Edit: I might very well go with WordPress. It looks AWESOME. I especially like the Autosave feature which saves your work even as you write it so it CAN’T BE LOST. You hear that XANGA?! AUTOSAVE!! Anyway… carry on.

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Matrons and the Vestal Virgins held a secret festival for Bona Dea on behalf of the public welfare in the house of the officiating consul or praetor of the city on the night of May third to the fourth. The mistress of the house presided, and the women performed a dance accompanied by wind and stringed instruments. All the statues of the men were carefully covered with a veil where the ceremonies were observed, and the room was decorated with vine-branches and other plants and flowers. Wine was brought in, but called milk, and the covered jar containing it a honey-pot. 

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The Eta Aquarids meteor shower peaks on or around this date. It began on the nineteenth of April and will end on the twenty-eighth of May. It is associated with Haley’s Comet, and is best viewed in tropical regions and in the southern hemisphere.

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Internet Island Topic Post #34: Good and Bad Days

The worst day of my life probably led to the best day of my life… Of course, saying that I had a best day doesn’t mean it was my happiest day or most memorable. If not for the worst day, my best day wouldn’t exist. It’s because of my worst day, and overcoming my worst day, that I had my best or most life altering day.

The worst day of my life was the day I decided I would kill myself. It was more of an “if this… then that” kind of decision. My high school had “Peer Support” locker where you could slip a note in asking for help and someone was supposed to get back to you the following day. I decided that if there was no one around who cared that I was alive, then no one would miss me if I decided to go. But to be certain that no one really cared, I decided to “reach out” for help from my “peers.”

By the third day, when no one had yet approached me I was feeling really low. I started actively considering how I could do it. As easy as slitting my wrists in the bathtub might have been, I was loathe to make anyone clean up after me. I have always felt like a burden to my family, like a hanger-on, so having someone find my body in a tub of blood was just too obnoxious. I didn’t want anyone to have to bother with me or my gooey carcass. I don’t like to think of myself as inconsiderate. So I figured, a high dive into the quarry would probably be the best route.

I decided I would do it over the weekend. I really wanted to give my “peers” the opportunity to get their act together and look me up. But no one ever came and then the week was over.

No one paid any attention to me in school. None of the teachers called upon me in class because “they knew I knew the answers” so why bother with me. I could raise my hand all I liked. None of them considered that the “smart kid” needed stimulation too. I didn’t have a single friend, so I rarely spoke. Some days I’d go straight to my room when I got home, without even eating a meal. Sometimes I wouldn’t see or interact with my family for days on end. Sometimes they would go out and I’d have to sit and wonder where they were. Only later would they return and say they hadn’t ask me along because I “always had a headache.” You’d think that a typical parent would be concerned if I “always had a headache” and take me to a neurologist.

But my best day came over the weekend, when I got so angry with Everyone, that I decided to live just to spite them. Oh how I hated them all. My family, my so-called peers, my teachers. I decided that I was a better person than them. I deserved to live.

Admittedly not my finest moment… but what’s important is that it gave me the strength I needed to overcome the opinions of the people around me and learn to depend upon my own perceptions of self. I had absolutely no self-esteem until the moment I got angry. I thought I was worthless and nothing, just a lump of miserable flesh. I was emo before is was fashionable. Edgar Allen Poe, HP Lovecraft, and I would have gotten along just fine. I was the human version of Eeyore. Liquid angst flowed from my pen.

After I got angry, everything changed. I stopped letting other people’s words dictate my mood. I stopped even trying to participate in class and focused on educating myself rather than depending upon my teachers for that service. I stopped worrying about where my family was at any given moment since they didn’t seem to worry about me. I looked inward and found the things about myself that were worth focusing on and also the things about myself that needed discarding. It was the day I “put away childish things” and became an adult, even though I had several years to go before I would quit school.

On Monday, when the teacher (who I had never seen and did not know) who ran the peers support group came looking for me at lunch, I blew him off. He claimed to have been on vacation and that the kids who were supposed to check the locker had not done so. He would have been in deep doodoo if I really had killed myself. But by Monday, I didn’t need him and I didn’t need my peers to tell me everything was okay. Because it wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay in the whole wide world. The world was a sick, sorry place that wasn’t worthy of me. But that only meant that I would have to grow up and change it so that other people like me wouldn’t have to struggle like I did.

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This is the fifth day of the Floralia.

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The goddess Elena or Helen is goddess of the holy road (the four royal roads of Britain). The old straight tracks and causeways of Wales are her holy roads called Sarn Helen.

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In England, an annual fertility festival is held featuring a man on a hobbyhorse, a fiendish mask, and pointed hat.

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Tane Matsuri is Rice Planting today and tomorrow in Japan.

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Princess Ysahodhara, the wife of Buddha is honored in India with an annual festival.

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Bona Dea, the good goddess of Roman tradition, was honored with fires tonight and tomorrow as the goddess of women’s mysteries. The Arvales honored Bona Dea in her grove with a highly complicated ceremony. This included a dance in the temple of the goddess to which they sang a hymn so antiquated that few understood its meaning. Secret offerings were made to her, and sows were sacrificed to promote fertility.

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Osiris Goes Forth from His mountain on the 18th day of Payni according to the Egyptian calendar.

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Who am I….? I’ve always been old, or so my mother says. When I was eight, my mother would call me grandma and ask if I’d like a rocking chair for my birthday. She would be out late unexpectedly, and I would ask why she didn’t call. She says she thinks I was her mother in a past life. I don’t think she realizes how insulting she was/is in regards to how she treats me. She doesn’t treat my brother and sister like that. It’s not my fault that I am often more responsible and concerned about the outcome of her (and their) actions than she is. She and I are only 16 years apart and it often seems as if we are siblings, rather than mother and daughter. I am the oldest of her children and the one who caused her to marry my father, the biggest mistake of her life. I don’t think she realizes how much she blames me for that.

I was never interested in the things other girls were interested in. I didn’t like dolls or frilly dresses or trying to figure out what kind of boy I’d like to date. I liked books and ancient things to the point that I spent two years wanting to be an archaeologist. My love of history is part of why I became a Pagan. I like old things… antiquated values and mannerisms. I prefer bowing and curtsying to handshaking, not the least of which because I don’t like touching people, especially strangers. There’s an epidemic of people who don’t wash their hands on a regular basis. I don’t want to touch someone whose hygiene is in question. I am not a touchy-feely kind of person. I have boundary issues. My siblings got all the attention and support in our house. I ended up retreating to my room to escape the lack of affection shown me. No one hit me or abused me verbally, but they didn’t really notice me aside from the occasionally snide comment. I got used to it. Any displays of physical affection on my part are an act I initiate for those who expect it. That’s not to say I don’t feel affection for people, but obviously my childhood has not led me to display my real feelings and to avoid situations where I might have to. I do not like to be ridiculed.

My high opinion of myself (which some have called arrogance) is in many ways a defense mechanism developed to combat my low self-esteem. I didn’t have friends in school; though I had lots of people who’d pick on me at the drop of a hat. My family was indifferent or openly contemptuous of me. I spent all my time in my room, with my books. If I was not an introvert when I was small, I’ve become one over the years. The face I display to the public, at work or when I am forced to socialize for some reason, is not my true face. I am well liked at work because I am responsible, courteous, funny, and conscientious. I am also considered quite strange. I am not very good at socializing. I don’t like it, and people scare me. But my other qualities make up for my inability to click with people. My coworkers come to me for advice. Complete strangers tell me their life stories. This may be because I have the air of someone who listens.

After my suicidal “phase” in high school, when I decided to live just to spite all the people who seemed to want me dead, I sat down and seriously thought about my best qualities. I was at the bottom of a well trying to figure out what things about myself I liked enough to use as stepping stones to a better self esteem. These are still the qualities I value in myself today…. my intellect, my perception, my determination to stick to my own code of chivalry in the face of modern incivility. I am not impressed with the world today. People are a constant disappointment. They focus too much on money, material possessions, and how they look. There’s nothing wrong with looking good (I am inordinately proud of my hair and my hands) or having money (yes, please) or possessions (more books!), but there are more important things in the world. I assign importance to things in my life, not the media… not my peers.

In short, I am isolated, but proud. I am lonely, but cautious. I have high standards for myself but have only been disappointed when applying those standards to others. I am old fashioned, but innovative. I crawled into books as a haven when I was a child, and never crawled back out again. My physical environment shaped my emotional expression, but my literary environment molded my values. I am proud of who I am and what I have done with the broken pieces I wove into myself as a child, even if that makes it difficult to fit into a society with different values than my own. There are no societies with values like my own. I am used to being true to myself because I have had no one to admire or dote on in all my life. There are many people that I love and try to support, but silently, carefully and without showing the extent of my feelings. It’s safer for my self-esteem if they don’t know how I feel.

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May is named for Maia Majestas, the Roman goddess of spring who encourages crops to grow. She is the chief goddess of the Seven Sisters or Pleiades. She can be equated with the Irish Queen Medb or Celtic Meave. Hawthorn, her sacred plant, blossoms during this month. Artemis, Diana, Faunus, Flora, and Pan also have dominion over this month.

The Anglo-Saxons called this month Thrimilcmonath, “thrice-milk month.” In England, May was also called Sproutkale. Winnemanoth, “joy month,” was the Frankish name, and the Asatru name is Merrymoon. The Irish call May Bealtaine or an Ceitean, the first weather of summer. The two weeks before Bealtaine is ceitean earrach, spring May-time, and the two weeks after Bealtaine is ceitean samhradh, summer May-time. Bealtaine, also associated the God Bel, means ‘the fires of Bel’.

The first Full Moon of May is called the Flower Moon. It shares the names (Corn) Planting Moon, Hare Moon, Pink Moon, and Green Grass Moon with April. The May moon is also the Bright Moon, Dryad Moon, Milk Moon, the Moon When the Pony Sheds, the Frogs Return Moon, and Sproutkale.

The sun passes from Taurus to Gemini around May 21st. Those born in May have the lily of the valley for their birth flower. The stone for the month of May, and for Taurus, is the emerald, though agate, chalcedony, and carnelian are sometimes mentioned for May instead, while Gemini lays claim to agate, particularly moss agate, and pearl. Aquamarine, lapis lazuli, kunzite, rose quartz, and sapphire are associated with Taurus, and chrysoprase, sapphire, and topaz are connected to Gemini.

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In the Buddhist tradition, the first Full Moon is celebrated in honor of the enlightenment of Buddha.

The Thursday before the New Moon is the festival of Mjollnir, celebrated in honor of Thor’s hammer. During the Middle Ages, this was a good time for ritual contests and trial by combat.

The seventh Thursday after Easter is the Russian spring festival called Semik.

The first Tuesday of May is the Ffair Ffyliaid, Fools’ Fair, in Llanerfyl Wales.

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On the fourth day of Floralia, Roman children made little images of Flora and decorated them with flowers in ancient times.

Litha begins at Beltane and ends at Lammas.

May Day, Beltane, La Bealtain, Cedsoman or Ceadamh (Irish for the “first of Summer”), Rood Day, Rudemas, Galan Haf, Walpurgisnacht is celebrated with bonfires atop hills, sometimes near sacred trees in honor of the coming summer and the rebirth of the sun. In Irish villages, need-fires, tein-eigin, were lit only after the one in holy Tara. People dance around the fire clockwise, singing. Dew gathered from the grass at dawn can be used in potions for luck. On Beltaine, drink from a well before sunrise. Wash in the morning dew, and adorn yourself with greenery.

A girl was chosen to be queen of the games on Mayday, brightly dressed and crowned with flowers. She was referred to as the May-lady, the Queen of the May, May Queen, and the Lady of May. On the Isle of Man, a Queen of the May was chosen with her twenty maids of honor and a troop of young men for escort. In Alsace, a girl called the Little May Rose, was dressed in white, and carried a small May-tree bright with garlands and ribbons. Her companions collected gifts from door to door, singing a song. The produce of the year is supposed to depend on the gifts offered to these May singers. In Russia, there is the May-Day Tree, a tree dressed up in women’s clothes.

This has become a traditional time for handfasting ceremonies, pagan wedding ceremonies in honor of the union of the goddess and god. In Ireland however, this was the traditional time for divorces! And marriages were made in November instead.

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The Landing of the Tuatha De Danann in Ireland is recalled today and their patron Mother-goddess Dana or Danann is honored. According to folklore, they were the fourth prehistoric colony to arrive in Ireland many centuries before the Christian era. They were magicians, highly skilled in science and metalworking. They inhabited Ireland for about two hundred years, until the fifth and last colony, the Milesians (Gaels), conquered them. When they had been finally defeated, they withdrew to the hills (sidhe, pronounced ‘shee’), residing in a place where they could live free from observation or attack.

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Bona Dea, the good goddess, is an Italian earth-goddess. The anniversary of the foundation of her temple was held today, and prayers are offered to her for the averting of earthquakes. She was regarded as identical with Maia, Fauna, Ops, and Fatua. Her identification with the old Roman Goddess Maia, who gave her name to the month of May, may have arisen from the accident that both were worshiped on May Day. Maia or Maia Majestas was one of the Pleiads. She was held to be the wife of Vulcan, and his flamen (priests) made offerings to her today. The Good Goddess was also called Damia, and her priestess bore the title Damiatrix. This points to an identification or confusion of the Good Goddess with the Greek goddess Damia (possibly the same as Demeter).

The Arvales, priests of the field, held their chief festival on three days in May, the 1st and 3rd in Rome and the day between in the grove.  This was a college of priests consisting of twelve life-members chosen from the most distinguished senatorial families by co-optation who worshiped of Dea Dia, the supposed founder of their fraternity. The reigning Emperor was always a member. Their symbol was a white fillet and a wreath of ears of corn.

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Tanat or Tanith, a Phoenician moon goddess, is honored today.

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Braggi and Iduna are honored today.

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In 1776, the Order of the Illuminati was founded in Bavaria by Johann Adam Weishaupt.

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