We mentioned the concept, in our last post, of themes. The word theme, of course, as every school child knows, comes from from the Greek thema, "a proposition, subject, deposit," literally "something set down," from PIE *dhe-mn, suffixed form of root *dhe- "to set, put". We have a custom, at the Privy Counsel, of waxing lyrical on the subject of philology round Easter-time, no doubt for sane and normal reasons. In fact, if one is being honest, we have a custom of waxing lyrical on the subject of philology at many other times of the year as well - our summertime treatise on proto-Indo-European verb roots, for instance, has become something of a classic among a certain substratum of what we might loosely term the intelligentsia.
Be that as it may, one might argue that holidays are a kind of theme. At the northern latitudes where the Privy Counsel HQ graces its environs, holidays are of course mostly an excuse to consume vast quantities of alcohol, rather than any custom, tradition or festivity of religious significance. One drinks schnapps at Christmas, to celebrate the birth of some dude two thousand years ago, then, three to four months later, one drinks schnapps again to celebrate the same dude's brutal torture and death. At midsummer one drinks schnapps to celebrate the heathen gods of old, in a drunken and undignified spectacle that the Church should definitely be more embarrassed about, considering that the efforts to Christianise the populace have continued unabated for over a thousand years. In August one drinks schnapps while consuming crayfish, for reasons that are not entirely clear but are probably related to either nineteenth-century nationalism or a touching devotion to the noble grain, which has of tradition been the alternative to the exotic southern grape in these boreal climes. Then everything goes dark and at Christmas one starts over again.
The Privy Counsel might be the only openly atheist bog blog, having announced as early as 2014 that "we don't even believe in Jebus". Still, we appreciate tradition as much as the next person, and will happily lift a pitcher of Easter ale skywards in honour of Jebus and his heavenly escalation, if custom so demands. As far as we understand, Holy Writ is full of stories of not only brutal torture and death, but also of many other types of calamities and disasters, there not being much call for writing at length about everything being fine. While we would personally happily sit down to a tale that went something like, "And lo, the Lord's chosen people learned to appreciate mixer taps, entirely stopped the heathen practice of making doors that don't go all the way down to the floor, and lived in peace and relative sanity until the end of time, yea," we understand that this style of narrative lacks the drama and tension that makes for a great work of literature. If instead one desires tales of devastation and carnage, there is apparently no better place to look than Australia. Australian Friend, in a feat of unparalleled toilet drama, has sent us the following screenshots, telling a gruesome story of Australian plumbing ineptness:
You will of course remember, from your youthful Bible studies, that the book of Exodus tells us that:
3 Now Moses kept the flock of Jethro his father in law, the priest of Midian: and he led the flock to the backside of the desert, and came to the mountain of God, even to Horeb.
2 And the angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush: and he looked, and, behold, the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed.
3 And Moses said, I will now turn aside, and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt.
4 And when the Lord saw that he turned aside to see, God called unto him out of the midst of the bush, and said, Moses, Moses. And he said, Here am I.
5 And he said, Draw not nigh hither: put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground.
We sincerely hope that the fireys kept their shoes on!
A post from your favourite intellectual bog blog just isn't complete without a confused bog selfie from everyone's favourite toilet correspondent, Jonny.
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| Jonny doing his bit for religion by consuming two drinks at once and, by the looks of things, experiencing some minor calamity - possibly of Biblical proportions. |
Finally, here is a Festive Video that seems to us suitable for Easter.
Festive Video: Miranda Lambert, For the Birds
Related Reading
Our classic post on Easter, Polish etymology, implausibly intransitive Germanic verbs, and Biblical latrine trenches: Whether You Believe in Jebus Or Not: Unbelievably Rampant Linguistic Musings!
All posts featuring Easter
Moving Heaven and Earth: Polarisation and Proto-Indo-Europeans
All posts featuring Australia
All posts featuring Australian Friend
All posts featuring Jonny
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