Blast from the Vampiric Past
In honor of the release of Breaking Dawn, here is an essay I wrote this past spring on sex and death in Twilight.
It’s fun- if you like teenage mortality driven carnal knowledge. If you don’t you must LEAVE THIS PLACE GOOD SIR.
Bountiful gifts upon us this day!
The glamorous Nephele, administrator at Goth.net, sent the Order a fantastic email giving the our members darque anagrammed names.
I really couldn’t share them with you fast enough- my heart being unable to bear the joy this brings me.
Caitlin Doughty= Lady Nuit Gothic
Nuit: name of an Egyptian/Thelemic goddess. Also French for “night.”
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Stephanie Cheng Smith=
Stephina the Scheming or Stephenie Nightchasm
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Angeline Gragasin=
Sergiana Naegling or Gerigianna LeSang
Naegling: the name of a sword used by Beowulf to defeat the monster Grendel.
LeSang: French for “The Blood.”
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Alex Frankel = Kelan X. Feral or Allan X. Freek
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Sarah Fornace = Shafara Necro
Shafara: a name derived from Hebrew, meaning “beautiful.”
Necro: a Greek prefix meaning “death.”
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Sheera Talpaz = Hespera Zlata
Hespera: name of Greek origin, meaning “evening.”
Zlata: name of Slavic origin, meaning “golden.”
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Will Coleman White = Alimiel Owle Witchman
Alimiel: an angel who is one of the seven guards of the curtain or veil of the Seventh Heaven, in midrashic literature.
Owle: “owl.” Although modern society views the owl as a symbol of wisdom (as did the ancient Greeks), the ancient Romans viewed the owl as a bird of ill-omen, funerals, and night terrors.
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Shannon Cwikla = Ninnoshka Claw
Ninnoshka: a Slavic affectionate form of “Ann.”
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Carl Sondrol = Dracos Llorn
Dracos: Greek, “dragon.”
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Justin Nobel = Jenison Blut
Blut: German for “blood.”
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Seth Samuel Nemec = Necessum the Mael
Necessum: Latin, meaning “necessary; imperative; inevitable.” Like Death itself.
Mael: Welsh, meaning “prince.”
Mara Zehler = Azrela Herm
Azrela: feminine name derived from Azrael, the name of the Archangel of Death.
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David Forrest = Irv Deadfrost
A link to the laydie’s forum, if you please: http://www.goth.net/forums/index.php
Natural Burial
Please meander over to the Mission section of the website if you have some time.
NATURAL BURIAL & EMBRACING DECAY
Part of the Order’s mission is to have you accept your eventual death and decay, and natural burial is one way of accomplishing that.
As a treat, a new commercial for a natural burial company in North Carolina. Natural burial ain’t just for them hippies, y’hear?!
From the same commercial guys who brought you your hero and mine, Chuck Testa.
For Our Friends, the Roadside Foxes
This is a poem from my new friend Bethany Pope, with whom I’ve been emailing back and forth on such topics as “bleach blonde stasis” and “giving birth to death.” Let’s just say the Order’s inbox has been filled with joy as of late.
This is, in Bethany’s words, “how I reacted to a scrim of meat dust on a cold wet road,” or more directly, “I saw a fox get hit by a car. I tried to help. This was the result.”
The Vixen in the Bracken
The fox is always multiple,
Trickster, creature, psychopomp,
It moves between the worlds.
I see here there,
Rough fur snagging on the blackthorn
Where the shrike has set her golden store.
A youngling, year-old, teeth still white,
And very sharp, visible,
She pants for her food.
I see her here,
Her gumline bloody,
Eye tooth snapped,
Panting out red
From tire-flattened lungs.
A flesh-thing, dying badly
By the side of the road.
I see her running,
Her hind leg flexing,
Muscles visible, shifting
Beneath the white and russet pelt.
Her head turns loose
Upon the broken column spine, eyes slit,
Her wide jaws bloody, satisfied,
No longer hungry.
But where do I see her?
I saw her
Running though forest,
Water beading, dewdropped,
From boughs in the black.
I saw her,
Shivering, frothing,
Coughing up blood,
Badly dying
Fur flicked brusque
By the speed of the cars.
I saw her
When I moved her
At her passing, flexing
The leg, with my red hand,
Turning her disjointed head.
Where do I see her?
Now. Where she always was.
Though I wore her presence
On my nails,
She was and is Vixen,
What was and is,
And is to come.
What I see; what breathed,
What rots in the fen.
Trickster, creature, psychopomp,
Always multiple,
Which moves between worlds,
Locking eyes with me.
Follow.
While we rest here on the topic of deceased foxes, if you’ve been reading the Order of the Good Death for awhile, you’ve seen this video before. But this seems like a good opportunity to repost one of my top five favorite things on the internet, Max Swinton’s “Mr. Fox.”
I do not know thee, sir. But be mine, Mr. Swinton, be mine.
Ask a Mortician on the News
I was on Right This Minute news this morning for Ask a Mortician.
Oh look, little me! They were all very nice and asked great, respectful questions. Man, people are way better at talking about death than I thought.
Click here to watch the segment