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The extracurricular adventures of Vlad and Ms Crockofshit

Blogging it to death

Lupercalia.

13/2/2018

5 Comments

 
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Happy Lupercalia all of you hopeless Paramours!

The Ides of February are upon us, and it is time to celebrate the ancient Pagan fertility festival of Lupercalia, named for the she-wolf, or ‘Lupa’, who is said to have raised Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome. Tradition has it that Pagan Priests would disrobe and sacrifice a goat for fertility and a dog for purification. 

PictureThat really chaffs you know!
The men would slice the goat hide into strips, plunging them into the sacrificial blood, they would then take to the streets, whipping the naked women who lined up to be slapped with the blood soaked strips in the belief it would increase their fertility.


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Let the whipping commence!
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Later, as the celebrations continued, all of the unattached young women present would place their names in a large urn, the bachelors would draw out a name and be paired with their chosen maiden for the remainder of the festival. Some of these matches were known to survive the festival, and even result in marriage, which may conceivably account for the ‘love connection’.


PictureEmperor Claudius II.
It is perhaps unsurprising that this was a very popular festival which would last for several days, commonly from 13th to 15th of February, and it is one that Christianity had trouble stamping out. As is the habit of the insidious creeping death known as the Roman Catholic Church, they decided to absorb the festival, renaming it St Valentine’s day in honour of not one, but two of their ‘Martyrs’, both named Valentine.

The Pagan Emperor Claudius 2nd was, it must be said, a bit ‘murdery’, especially where Christians were concerned, though these executions were scarcely more than insignificant ‘pre-emptive strikes’ when one considers the industrial scale murder that Christianity was about to unleash. 


PictureOne of the Valentines losing his head.
The first Valentine, Valentine of Terni, was executed under Claudius, though by the direct order of a prefect with the wonderful name of Placid Furius around AD 200. The second, Valentine of Rome was executed around AD 289. Legend has it both men died on 14th February, which of course suited the Christian usurpers very well.


PicturePope Gelasius.
It was in the 5th century that Pope Gelasius combined the new ‘St Valentine’s Day’, with Lupercalia in his attempt to finally dislodge the Pagan rituals. However the festival continued to be a watered down version of its original incarnation, still a drunken bacchanal, but with more clothes and less whipping with blood- soaked animal skin.


PictureFernando celebrates Valentines day.
You may of course choose to enjoy this time as you see fit, and I sincerely hope you have a wonderful time with the love of your life. Have fun exchanging cards and chocolates in honour of two dubious ‘martyrs’ representing a religious empire you may or may not believe in, which erroneously re- named the celebration after them for nothing more than convenience.


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Personally, to acknowledge the burgeoning fertility of the land and the beauty of this Planet Earth I call home, I will be disrobing, wassailing and carousing while whipping Ms Crockofshit’s exposed fundament with bloody strips of goat!

HUZZA!



5 Comments

    Sometimes one simply needs to get away. My neighbours, amusing as they sometimes are often re- awaken in me certain ‘urges’. Urges which invariably concern the use of greased wooden poles.

    Of course when I do have the opportunity to scamper off on a jolly jaunt, my ideal destination tends not to be ‘usual’.

    I prefer charnel house to manor house, gin palace to Buckingham palace, Bran castle to Windsor castle, boneyard to botanic garden. You probably discern the pattern.

    Therefore, fascinating as life on the strangest street in this sceptered isle may be, I thought readers might appreciate the occasional diversion further afield.

    It is my intention to regale you with tales of my light-hearted cadaverous caperings into the weird, the macabre and the unusual around the UK and (sometimes) beyond.

    Perhaps I may visit medieval buildings guarded by faithful gargoyles, graveyards and catacombs inhabited by the restless dead, extraordinary natural landscapes where pagan gods dwell, restaurants, pubs and hotels in unusual places, haunted by ancient denizens and hopefully run by mad chefs with mad ideas. I will not know until I get there. I can only say they will be places to replenish my essence and head off those pesky impaling urges.

    Tread with me if you will, paths less well known.

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