Tag Archives: legends and stories

Quote of the Day – January 11 2012

“”The vitalized art form of storytelling will determine what lives and what dies”
–Caroline Casey

Hasn’t it always tho? The stories that persist shape both our culture and our lives. What stories do we tell about ourselves? Do we tell stories where we succeeded and were proud? Do we tell stories of people who victimized us and hurt us until we either gave up or thrived despite it? Do we tell self- depreciating tales or tales of enlightened journeying and adventures?
What stories did our families tell and enjoy? What stories did we learn at school? What resonates? These questions to me are the key ones. If I can hear a person’s stories then i am over halfway there to gaining an understanding of them and of course as a byproduct myself. Namaste, G

Click on image to see full-size

Slightly-Processed Goth by G A Rosenberg

Golden Apples in Vrndavana Fields

Setting : A dance club Vrndavana Fields that lives somewhere in our hearts. I look around. The atmosphere is somewhere between that of a church and a goth club with a bit of druidic conclave added for good measure. Trees grow from the floor and their branches provide natural places for the lighting. All my friends are here along with incarnations of godhead from various pantheons and belief systems. What music plays here? Ah, a bit of everything from the sacred hymns and gospel you may expect to death metal, hitting all stops along the way. Right now Billy Idol’s voice can be heard singing “Dancing With Myself”. Krishna, Yeshu and Lucifer are in a corner dancing shirtless enjoying the irony.

Everybody here seems to be having a great time. We hang out and dance, read, drink or eat, kiss and couple in a totally natural way with none of the drama that sex usually brings. Innocently, an exchange of energy and some of the lovemaking is energetic indeed. In this place even casual play is sacred yet no matter accrues to it.

What lies outside of this club be it field or forest? There are no secrets, we may know or not know. Perhaps we only see a little. After all, the reality is too large and we each have our bit to contribute to this feast..
Speaking of feasts…
A Golden Apple rolls in. On it can be read the word Kallisti, which is greek meaning ‘for the most beautiful’. It seems that the goddess Eris is up to her old tricks. It was an apple, such as this that started the Trojan War. Does she now hope to start the War of the Trojans? She looks around expectantly. It seems that everyone here knows that not only are they entitled to the apple but but that every other being is also, The Most beautiful referred to being that eternal spark of godhead that resides in us all. As each comes to this realization, the apple grows large enough for everyone to take a bite. After all there is only one tree from which this apple could have come and one garden in which we dance. Perhaps the winged doormen with the flaming swords should have given us our first clue…
In love and joy, we partake of the apple, and by doing so we all realize our divinity. The sweet juice of the goddess runs down the sides of our mouths and we transcend transcending. Trance ends transcendeing.

Legends and Stories-Br’er Rabbit and the Tar Baby

This article start another occasional series on this blog. One in which I intend to either tell or reprint an old tale or legend. It seems to me that many of the old stories that I grew up with are being forgotten and anyway i have of keeping them alive I will. Especially if it illustrates a point.

I just spent two hours combing articles that would explain to me why this story might or might not be racist. Was it a story told by slaves in the American South prior to The War Between the States. From what I understand yes. Were the story later collected by a white man and presented to the populace as told by a kindly old former slave named Uncle Remus. The answer once again would be yes. However, I also would answer yes to whether or not the character that people hearing the story  was smarter and wiser than any other character in the story.

On top of that I can’t think of a better analogy for the way many people deal with questions of ego and negativity than this story. If any of you find it reprehensible that I tell this story, my apologies.

Br’er Rabbit and the Tar Baby

(adopted from a story by Joel Chandler Harris, itself adopted from African American folktales)

Br’er Rabbit was always playing tricks on the other animals and getting them to do what he wanted and Br’er Fox had had enough. He decided he was going to teach that rabbit a lesson if it was the last thing he did.

Br’er Fox finally came up with a plan. He got some tar and he mixed it with turpentine and he put it into the shape of a baby. He stuck clothes and a hat on it and put it right in Br’er Rabbit’s path.

A little while later Br’er Rabbit came hopping along.

Seeing a strange on his path. Br’er Rabbit said “Hey, what’s up?” The stranger did not reply

Trying again, Br’er Rabbit said “Nice weather, we’re having.” Still no answer

“Well ya don’t have to be so rude, if you don’t want to talk, fine, just move aside so I can pass”

Still no answer

Getting impatient and angry Br’er Rabbit pushed the tar baby, only to find his hands wer stuck.

He couldn’t move

“Let me go, let me go, or I’ll give you such a kick” and he did.

His foot got stuck too.

Br’er Fox came out from behind the bush. He was laughing fit to bust a gut. “Now what do we have here, you seem stuck.”

Br’er Rabbit looked a bit scared as he knew that Br’er Fox had quite a few scores to settle with him.

“Hey Br’er Fox, I don’t suppose you’d help me out of here”

“Are you kidding? The only thing I’ll help you to is an early grave.”

“OK I understand, but do it with your gun or pluck my fur out or something. Just please… please… don’t….”

“Don’t what?” Br’er Fox said, a mite suspicious but wondering just how good his revenge might be

“Please whatever you do don’t toss me into the briar p-p-patch!”, Br’er Rabbit shuddered and with his eyes he pleaded.

“Why would I do that?”

“No, No, you couldn’t be so cruel! you wouldn’t, to heave me into the briar patch, that I’m so afraid of stuck to this monstrosity where I’d starve”

Br’er Fox smiled and laughed an evil laugh”

“Heh heh heh, OK into the briar patch you go” He picked up Br’er Rabbit, Tar Baby and all and heaved him into the Briar Patch

Br’er Rabbit screamed and it was music to Br’er Fox’s ears. The music hit a jarring note a few moments later when the screaming turned to laughter.

Br’er Rabbit said as he ran past, “Thank you kindly, Br’er Fox, I was born and bred in the briar patch, born and bred and know it to be the perfect place to get stuff unstuck from you”

Br’er Fox just beat his head again the ground.

Whenever people start talking to me about killing off their egos or not dealing with their egos, ego bad, materialism bad, gotta get rid of it, I get reminded of this story. It seems to me that the things in ourselves that we fight against the most become our own personal tar babies, the more we strike out at them and try to kill them off, the more we attach ourselves to them in a negative way.
It is only when we focus on other things that we are able to free ourselves.

Stray Thought: I think it is a reasonable bet that Bugs Bunny has some common origins with Br’er Rabbit. I wonder how many of this contemporary Warner Brothers and Disney cartoons do also?