Autumn is here, the days have grown crisper, and that means there’s no better time to get together with your close friends and family—those who have managed to survive the summer—and enjoy some fun seasonal activities. Here I’ve put together a brief calendar of upcoming events, with suggested ways to celebrate them, specially chosen to help you navigate the pending collapse of contemporary western civilization.
Mid-October: The Norse Gormánuður (Slaughter-Month) begins. As do most farmers in the northern hemisphere, the old Norse folk knew that by the time the leaves start changing, you’d better have your harvest in and your animals slaughtered and salted for the fast-approaching winter. So in anticipation of massive disruptions in the global food supply, your family might spend a weekend or two gathering up the last bits of produce from the garden for canning, and butchering your livestock.
Now, given that most of us here in central Kentucky don’t actually own any livestock, especially not in the urban wasteland of Lexington, we have to make do with what we have. And what we have are pets. And if you don’t have them, I bet your neighbors do.
So grab a blade—I like the classic Buck 119, but any ol’ kitchen knife will do—and track down those neighborhood dogs and cats. Dogs will generally come when you call them, making for easy work, but cats can be tough to corral. They’re worth the extra effort, though—packed with protein and delicious in hearty wintertime stews. Of course, if you live anywhere near a horse farm, you can assure your family a steady source of sustenance all the way until planting season rolls around.
Neighbors seem resistant? Offer to share the bounty with them, perhaps even letting them in on your favorite canine-based recipes. If they still say no, well, much can be accomplished with night-vision goggles. If you don’t yet have a pair or two, grab them now, before the Christmas rush. Try the Cabela’s out near Hamburg, and don’t forget extra batteries!
October 20: The Aztec month of Quecholli begins, for which we should feast and honor Mixcoatl, the “cloud serpent” god of the hunt and war, and creator of fire. It is also likely that on or around this date Amy Coney Barrett will be confirmed to the Supreme Court. Is it possible we might glorify both serpent-god and nominee on this date?
Yes, it is. One legend surrounding Mixcoatl concerns his wife, Coatlicue, the goddess of fertility and bodies of water, who, having borne her husband 400 children, decided she’d had just about enough of that, and refused further congress with him. Despite this, one day she found herself pregnant, possibly due to having some days earlier come across an odd ball of feathers floating down from the sky, and secreting the ball within her blouse for safekeeping.
Since everyone in the neighborhood knew Mixcoatl wasn’t the father, the pregnancy caused Coatlicue’s sons and daughters a lot of embarrassment. So much so that a few of them decided to terminate the pregnancy by killing their mother and the unborn child within her, despite it being well into the third trimester already. (These were early liberals, see.) Luckily for Coatlicue, at the last moment the child forced his way out of the womb, already dressed and ready for action. With his spear he slew his conspiratorial siblings, thus laying the seeds of moral posturing for millennia to come.
And so, as the dawn breaks on the first day of Quecholli, we should celebrate both Ms. Barrett and Coatlicue by identifying those of our siblings who profess pro-choice views and killing them dead.
October 27-28: The Celtic Month of Ivy ends; the Month of Reeds begins. Ivy reminds us of the circle of life—that even as a host plant dies, the ivy which clings to it can live on another year. And so you’ve done your slaughtering for the winter, and look forward to the long, cold season indoors. But what to do for entertainment once the inevitable cyber-sabotage of the power grid turns off your Netflix subscription for good?
Try making musical reed instruments with the whole family. The stalks of Kentucky cane make fantastic flutes and recorders, and by attaching a reed to the interior of the cylinder, you can even build your own clarinet or oboe. Experiment! But teach the kids that these instruments aren’t just playthings; their soothing strains also help guide the dead to the underworld. You’ll need them for when the heat’s turned off and grandpa starts looking awfully frail.
Pro tip: save some cane in your “just in case” drawer: the hollow, dried stalks also make excellent blowguns, in the event your neighbor comes around inquiring about her cat’s whereabouts.
October 31: Samhain. Sure, send the kids out for trick-or-treating, but don’t send them out without a warm coat, for the nights are growing chilly indeed. Remember the pets you harvested? Now’s the time to gather up the pelts you saved, dried, and tanned, and get a-sewin’! If you’re lucky enough to have bagged a thoroughbred, well, that’s plenty of jacket for even the widest girths in your household. If not, look to sew the skins of the shaggier breeds (huskies, afghan hounds, etc.) into the torsos of your outerwear, where we need to retain body heat the most. Save the short-haired pelts for sleeves and collars. And don’t discard the kittens! Everyone needs a warm pair of mittens, after all.
November 1: Anglo-Saxon Blōtmōnaþ (Blood-Sacrifice Month) begins. In the traditions of the Germanic peoples, Blōtmōnaþ was the time for choosing which animals would likely survive the winter and which would surely perish, then sacrificing the latter group to honor the gods in hopes of gaining their favor, possibly manifesting in a mild, short winter.
So if you have any pets remaining—perhaps that one neighbor just never came around to your way of thinking, bless her heart—now’s the time to go get them. Say a prayer to your favorite deity, be it Odin, Athena, Inti, Baal, or Arkaroo, and get that bonfire going. Bring an empty plate and a hungry belly!
Now, if you don’t have any pets left, remember that it was common practice in many parts of the world to sacrifice the eldest child of a family, especially the first-born males, to appease the gods. This is a tough call for most families, who have probably grown at least somewhat attached to him. But sometimes it makes good economic sense: if, for example, little Bobby is just hitting his growth spurt and eating a lot more than he’s worth in terms of companionship, you might consider parting with him. But plan ahead as well: if Jimmy’s already grown into a stout young man, brave and handy with a hatchet, you might be foolish to let him go. Especially if your desperate, starving neighbors drop by unexpectedly.
November 3: Election day. Do your civic duty and vote, if you haven’t already. It’s unlikely, since the power’s been out for weeks now, that your vote will count, but it’s fun to press the buttons and turn the knobs. Since the polling place will likely be unattended, take the opportunity to strip the copper from the machines. It won’t be useful just yet, but in a future installment of the “Family Activities” series we’ll talk about setting up a rudimentary hydroelectric generator, just in time for the spring snowmelt.
November 16-17: Leonids meteor shower. Just as it begins to get dark enough to see the stars, take the whole family out into the yard and gaze into the heavens. Wait for a meteor to hit you.
Leave a Reply