Its been a while since I wrote about animal sacrifice on this blog. It was a favoured subject for a while because I find the concept so intriguing, but you know, there is only so long you can talk about theoretically killing and butchering animals before it gets weird. That said, I was tagged in a Facebook discussion about the subject yesterday, and the question is such a good one, I am reviving the subject on Baring the Aegis.

"Does anyone have a list of what animals the Gods preferred for their sacrifices? I know Artemis preferred wild game but I can't find a list for the rest of them."

First a little background on the practice: The principal kind of Greek sacrifice was called 'thysia' and consisted of the killing of a domestic animal, usually cattle, sheep, goats or pigs. It was followed by the division of the meat between the divine recipient and the human participants. This practice was most definitely the cornerstone of the ancient Hellenic faith. It included animals for a reason: the act of killing, of taking the life of an animal, is a difficult one. It brings us closer to our own mortality and must have given many of the men flashbacks of combat situations. Many ancient Hellenic households killed animals for meat, but there is something special about killing in sacrifice, I wager.

Sacrifice was the highlight of ancient Hellenic ritual. Like me, the ancient Hellenes sometimes fasted or otherwise abstained before ritual. They processed to the ritual site, leaving the mundane behind. Incense would have filled the air, and hymns would have been sung. The ritual that took place took the celebrants out of the regular world and the animals they brought with them stepped out with them. When they came upon the altar, the mood would have been tense: a death was about to occur. We are supposed to feel friction with our emotions when we take a life, animal or otherwise. Our instinct to preserve life is one of the strongest we have. Hymns would have continued, building the tension. Water was dripped on the head of the animal, trying to get it to say 'yes' to being sacrificed and purifying it in the process.

All participants threw barley groats onto the animal, the ground and the altar--perhaps roughly, like an attack, or perhaps softly, like a blessing. The barley came from a single basket and by the time everyone had had a handful to throw, the ritual knife would have been displayed at the bottom of the basket. The person who would kill the animal would have taken the knife and cut a lock of the animal's hair. Swiftly, the lock would be tossed into the fire as a warning of the impending sacrifice. The tension would have reached its height at this time and with a swift motion, the animal's throat would have been cut. All of its blood was collected and later dripped onto the fire or--in case of a smaller animal--dripped onto the fire directly. Women would scream, possibly to cover up the dying sounds of the animal, and then the tension would have most likely been broken and the ominous mood turned festive: while the entire animal belonged to the Gods, They saw fit to give much of it to Their followers for rare meat consumption.

There are two types of sacrifice, be they of animals or some other (food) item. Holokautein (ὁλοκαυτεῖν) were sacrifices in which the sacrifice--domestic animal, fruits, cakes, wine, etc.--was utterly destroyed and burnt up, as opposed to thyesthai (θύεσθαι), in which the sacrifice was shared with the Gods in question and one's fellow worshippers. In the case of a latter animal sacrifice, the edible parts of the sacrificed animal were roasted or boiled and distributed for festive celebration, whereas the inedible parts were burned or placed on the altar, those being the Gods' share. There is no list of which deity got which type of sacrifice, because the lines blurred quite often. That said, I can make a general working formula for you: Ouranic deities (so any deity (!) who lives on the Earth, on Olympos, or in the sea) were honoured with thyesthai. The Khthonic, or Underworld, deities, malign deities, heroes, the dead, ghosts and nymphs and their ilk received holókautein.

While we associate animal sacrifice with large-scale festivals, many sacrifices were family affairs, conducted in times of need. If someone was sick, for example, one or two chickens might be sacrificed around the family altar while the entire family attended. After the portion for the Gods was cut and sacrificed, the chickens were cooked for dinner.
 
Other sacrifices were larger; a chicken really was the smallest animal one could sacrifice in good conscience. A swine/pig came after, followed in desirability by sheep, goats, and oxen/cows. For home sacrifices, it would have been rare for any of the latter to take place: the sacrifice of a pig, sheep, or goat would have been shared with a whole residential block or maybe your very extended family. An ox was usually enough to satisfy an entire village. Meat could be stored, saved or sold, but especially in smaller towns, it was customary for all the meat to be eaten on the spot.

So which deity was offered which animal? There are a few generalized rules I can give you that seem to hold up through the city-states, but there were undoubtedly instances where these 'rules' did not apply. Like I said before, nothing smaller than a chicken; male animals were gifted to male deities, female animals for female deities; and black animals were given to khthonic deities, while white animals were given to Ouranic deities. The most complete information on the exact animals comes from Attica (and mostly Erkhia), but I think money was usually the defining factor for the exact animal, along with the need for the prayer to be honoured. In general, the more important the occasion, the more expensive and large the animal. We have a few examples (oxen for Athena at Athens, for example, and pigs to Demeter at Eleusis), but in other city-states, or even within the city-state, this is turned up-side-down again: at Erkhia, both regularly got sheep. Aphrodite is another exception, as she often received doves in sacrifice, and many other Gods have 'quirks' like these. Doves, by the way, were an acceptable offering of the poor, but were greatly down looked upon unless in connection to Aphrodite.

A factor seems to be the promise made to the deity at hand, as that promise was honoured above all else. Especially in situations of war, generals of armies made large boasts of sacrifice to come if only the Gods would help them be victorious. Afterwards, arrangements were made to actually perform said sacrifices. These promises were sometimes so outlandish that they were only accomplished with great difficulty. The Kharisteria is a festival that takes place on the sixth of the month of Boedromion and commemorates the battle of Marathon which took place in 490 BC. During the battle of Marathon, around 11,000 Hellenes stood their ground against a Persian force between 30.000 and 100.000 men. 203 Hellenes fell, opposite 6,400 Persians. That was quite a victory--especially if you consider that the Hellenes were the attacking side. The casualty numbers are known because the Hellenes set up a memorial for their fallen comrades. The Persian dead were counted for a very specific reason: the Hellenes had promised to the Theoi a sacrifice of one goat for every Persian killed. In the end, they discovered they'd killed so many Persians that they couldn't find enough goats. A payment plan of sorts was devised, and over the course of thirteen years, roughly 500 goats per year were sacrificed. The choice of a goat sounds a practical one to me: they probably knew the death count would be high, so offering oxen was going to be impossible, but they also did not want to undercut themselves and loose the battle because Artemis felt short-changed. A goat is a nice 'in-between' offering.

I feel that the Gods don't prefer any type of sacrifice; what they are looking for is sacrifice, period. It's up to the giver to decided what to give, and that depends on a multitude of factors, most of which I have tried to go into here. In the end, the ancient Hellenes gave the maximum they could spare, and that would be a good measure for us as well.
Seeing as there is 'part 1' in the title, I think it's safe to assume this episode is going to end on a cliff-hanger. That's fine, I can deal with that. A week is nothing, right? Right? Anyway: previously on Atlantis, Jason met the sorceress Circe in a cave and in order to save the lives of Medusa and Hercules made a deal with her: the lives of his friends in exchange for the life of Circe's sister Pasiphaê. They even took an unbreakable vow to seal the deal. Jason has been putting off assassinating the Queen of Atlantis and his love interest Ariadne's stepmother, leading to the unfortunate continued poisoning of King Minos.


It's night-time and Jason is washing himself in a fountain when someone creepy passes him by. Feeling his spidey senses tingling, he hurries to catch up to the cloaked figure and when he rushes around a corner, they're suddenly just standing there. The figure is revealed to be Circe and as if Jason does not know the answer, he asks what she is doing here. Circe reminds him of the vow he took and says he has three days to get it done. He asks what happens if he refuses and she basically says that she will kill him and all of his friends if he chickens out. At that point, Circe makes a break for it and runs. Jason follows her into an alleyway where he finds a figure lying on the floor, covered by a sheet. He swallows and inches forward. When he pulls the sheet off, it's Hercules--corpsefied and very much dead. With a start, Jason wakes up in his own bed and Hercules is just fine.


His night-time adventure seems to have reminded Jason of the responsibility he took on, especially because the mark of the unbreakable vow he took is firmly burned into his wrist--and has now also appeared in the dining table. this freaks Jason and Pythagoras out, but Hercules completely blows past the fact that this is actually a fairly serious situation. Jason is not amused. All I can think is 'this is your fault, ass hat. start being helpful!'; instead of doing that, Hercules suggests his usual trick: run away. Jason says that would be useless, Circe's magic is too strong. Does that mean no one will be running through the woods this episode... or running at all? Because that would just be swell.

Hercules does eventually realize he is to blame, and volunteers to help, and then proceeds to volunteer Pythagoras, who was always going to volunteer himself, regardless. Herc sets out the basic plan: get in, sneak past the guards, kill the Queen, sneak out. Easier said that done, however.

In the palace, Pasiphaê and Ariadne sit with Minos on what Minos has concluded will be his deathbed. He talks slowly and brokenly about his coming end and about the preparations that need to be taken care of for the event. Mostly he wants for his daughter and wife to be united, to which they both subconsciously react in the 'hell no'-manner. He makes them swear that they will protect and care for each other and both do. What else can you say to a dying man? Ariadne takes her leave with a kiss to his temple, and Pasiphaê goes to prepare another death cocktail.


At the oikos, Jason and Pythagoras are plotting over schematics when Hercules comes back triumphantly: he's found someone willing to smuggle them all into the palace and is mighty smug about it. He goes on another joking spree and I get the urge to fast-forward. I have issues with Hercules on the best of days, but on days when his friend is about to be forced to commit murder because of something he did out of lust love... let's just say Hercules needs to get with the program, stat.

The plan now is to get Jason into the palace with a seaweed knock-out potion that works sort of like chloroform. Hercules, again, takes the idiot-route to stardom and has Pythagoras--the only one who could help in case his calculations on the strength of the tranquilizer were, indeed, off--test it. It's a good thing Pythagoras is good at what he does. Too bad, though, that plotting is on pause until he wakes up, leaving Jason to sharpen his sword. Personally, I would have gone with a dagger--swords are slashing weapons, and terrible for stabbing--but you know, whatever works.

Pythagoras--who is already up again?--joins him, saying that he doesn't need to do this whole murder thing. Jason insists he does, because else they all die. Pythagoras is aware of this; he meant to say that perhaps it is better to die with  clear conscience than live with a tainted one. It doesn't work like that for Jason; he says he would then die in the knowledge he did not do everything in his power to save his friends. Sighing, Pythagoras watches him go.


They wait until nightfall and are rolled into the palace by way of barrel. Pasiphaê and Heptarian are having a heart-to-heart about the king's imminent demise--which would be a good thing if Heptarian had kept up his end of the bargain and had wooed Ariadne. Now the throne will pass to Ariadne, who is obviously not under the control of the Queen in the way Heptarian is. He asks if she wants him to have Ariadne killed, but she rolls her eyes and says they will need to be a bit more subtle than that if they want Pasiphaê in the good graces of the people of Atlantis. Heptarian is firmly in the dog house.

The three friends emerge from their barrels and Hercules makes enough noise to wake the dead. How no one has caught them after that is beyond me; that must be some far-off storage area. The three friends creep through the hallway and manage to overcome the guards with seaweed chloroform (and so much noise the roleplayer in me can only scream 'move silently checks, people! Move silently checks!'. I'm sorry, I'm no fun this episode.


Aaaanyway, the guards eventually go down and they are on their way. They hit the roof and Jason descends into the rooms which Pythagoras hopes are the Queen's bedchambers. Hercules lowers Jason down and struggles to hold his weight as a pack of guards marches past under him. It's a close call, but they make it through--mostly because the guards move off just before Herc lets go of the rope. Now how, exactly, is Jason supposed to get back up, up, and away?

Jason moves through the palace, taking out guards left and right. He actually manages to find Pasiphaê's chambers and she is lying on her back, perfectly asleep. It's the perfect opportunity, but he can't do it. At that point, Pasiphaê wakes up and yells for her guards. The alarms go off, and Pythagoras and Hercules panic. In the latest of a long string of things that make me want to wrangle Hercules' neck, he tries to convince Pythagoras to leave Jason behind and make a break for it. Pythagoras will have none of it.

Jason, meanwhile, is dodging guards left and right. Too bad he is not able to dodge the arrow that one of the guards shoots at him. Hercules, meanwhile, is wearing Pythagoras down on his escape plan. He tells Pythagoras that they are no use to Jason if they are caught, and they leave--seconds before Jason shows up and calls on them to get him out. There had better be some character redeeming for Herc soon.


Jason realizes he is in big trouble and tries to get out. Pasiphaê is frantic and speaks to Heptarian and a guard captain. She realizes this was an assassin, although she has no idea on their identity. She can only wonder why her attacker did not go for the kill; she knows she should be dead right now. She imprints on the guards that she wants this man alive.

Jason has gone to the only person in the palace he can go to for help: Ariadne. Unfortunately, he does this by grabbing her from behind, covering her mouth, and dragging her into her chambers. Ariadne displays why she is awesome and bites his hand until his grip weakens, stomps on his foot with her heel, and nearly stabs him before she realizes it is Jason. They don't get much chance to speak; Heptarian is at the door and Ariadne fakes ignorance while Jason hides. Heptarian tells her an attempt was made on the Queen's life and once she closes the door, she turns to Jason to question him about that.

He doesn't deny anything; he tells her the truth and Ariadne spots his injury. At least Jason is safe for now. Jason and Hercules manage to get out through the garbage shoot. Herc throws down Pythagoras first, to check if it's safe. Grumble.


Back in the palace, Jason is shirtless again, and Ariadne is tending to the arrow wound on his side. It hurts, but Ariadne is touching him so everything is fine, really. I do really like these two together. There is a lot of tension between them, but the mood is broken when Ariadne asks why he did not go through with killing Pasiphaê. He says he couldn't, that something stopped him. Ariadne confesses she has thought about killing Pasiphaê before, but she couldn't take a life in cold blood either. It's a bonding moment. Jason realizes he should get out of here, but Ariadne convinces him to stay--for his own safety. She says she will gladly risk her life for him, and Jason is stunned. She will smuggle him out in the morning. Jason agrees 'reluctantly'.

Hercules and Pythagoras come home and realize that Jason is not here. Pythagoras is worried; Hercules suggests wine.

Ariadne watches Jason sleep in her bed as the sun comes up. It's cute. When Jason wakes us, she urges him to dress. Ariadne laments her faith in being born royalty, but in the 'I know I am privileged, I'm just so in love that I would gladly give I all up for you'-way. She calls Jason 'a simple boy', and he makes her squirm about it. She rushes to assure him she does not mean stupid and he laughs while she helps him dress. Jason says he has had the best night of his life, and Ariadne confesses she feels the same. They are about to kiss when sounds from the hallway interrupt them. Time to get out.

Ariadne leads him through the palace onto her secret passage out and they linger to lament that they wish they could spent more time together. Ariadne realizes she has no idea what the next days will bring for her, so she doesn't make any promises for the future. Jason just promises he won't let anything hurt her. They kiss and then he really has to run. Ariadne rushes to her rooms. Pasiphaê is informed about the whole failed search attempt, and she is not happy. Everyone is to be questioned.


Jason makes it home to two hung-over friends sleeping on the table. Now he has to come clean about failing in his mission. Hercules is an ass about it, asking why he couldn't just, you know, stab her a little. Jason says he just couldn't. The next bit makes me want to slam Herc's head into a wall -again-:

Hercules: "I suppose it is not -entirely- your fault."
Pythagoras: "No, that is because it's mostly yours."
Hercules: "Well, you have to keep bringing that up, don't you? Even I'm allowed to make -some- mistakes."
Jason & Pythagoras: -eye roll-

Anyway, Pythagoras says they will think of something, but Jason is not convinced. Cut to an unknown time later where Hercules is being useless at the table and the rest is pacing. They still have a day, so Jason postpones making a decision on what to do until after he's gotten some sleep. Hercules makes a crude remark about Ariadne I'm not even going to capture. Seriously, Atlantis writers, seriously?


It seems Jason was still bleeding when he went through the trap door; Pasiphaê, Heptarian, and Ramos have found blood smeared on the wall near it. The problem is: only members of the royal court have keys to that passageway...

That night, Jason can't sleep and heads outside. By the morning, Pythagoras wakes up and literally falls out of bed, finding Jason's bed empty. He wakes up Hercules--which takes forever because Jason drugged them both with wine. They realize Jason went to face Circe alone, and try to shake their drunkenness enough to go after him.


Ariadne is visiting her father, who looks really, really, crappy. He's not waking up anymore, and Ariadne worries about him greatly. Pasiphaê joins them while Ariadne speaks tearfully to him. She tells Ariadne about the passing of her own father and how much it affected her. She tries to bond with Ariadne, but Ariadne does not allow her; she says she finds it hard to imagine Pasiphaê inconsolable, but Pasiphaê insists she was, not unlike Ariadne when she was younger.

As Ariadne gets up to leave, Pasiphaê casually drops the bombshell: they know how the intruder escaped the palace. Ariadne falters and asks how the intruder escaped. Pasiphaê tells her, and says Ariadne does not look surprised. Ariadne gives a vague reply and turns back to Pasiphaê, who has fully turned to her now, dying husband and the promise they made to him completely forgotten. Pasiphaê asks if she has told the location of the passageway to anyone.

Ariadne: "I was always led to believe it was a closely guarded secret?"
Pasiphaê: -looks at her intently- "Be careful Ariadne, it seems there is a traitor amongst us."
Ariadne: -standing up under the scrutiny- "there are very few people you -can- trust in this world."

The words cannot do this scene justice; the underlying conversation between these two women was simply brilliant.

As Ariadne leaves, Minos comes to. He asks for Ariadne, but Pasiphaê tells him he isn't here, nor was she here. She tells him Ariadne has not come to him all day, and Minos is heartbroken. Low blow, Pasiphaê, low blow.


Jason has returned to Circe's cave. She asks if it's done, and he says he couldn't do it. She asks why that was, and he answers he does not know. He offers up his own life, but asks her to spare his friends. that wasn't the bargain, though, Circe reminds him. He goats her on, and she lashes out with her magic, sending two sharps sticks flying. He dodges them and pulls his sword on her. Rushing forward, he strikes but hits nothing but air; the cloak Circe was wrapped in is suddenly empty and she stands behind them--triplicate--telling him he truly is touched by the Gods. He throws his sword at number one, but it hits nothing but air.

Circe plays with him and launches another pointy stick. Then, however, he throws a dagger at her and hits her square in the gut. She dies, but not before throwing -something- down into the ground; beans or bones, or something similar, and they burrow down into the ground.

Hercules and Pythagoras rush in and everyone is happy. Yay, bad guy vanquished! At that moment, however, the ground shakes and from the ground, three armed skeletons rise. everyone's weapons come up and there is a fight, hampered by the fact that swords--again!--are slashing weapons and skeletons are not exactly vulnerable to being slashed. Blunt weapons and force it is. Thankfully, they make it through.


In the palace, serf Ione is making Ariadne's bed and finds a bloody rag. Ariadne comes clean about the source of the blood and Ione offers to make the rag go away; she will burn it. Ariadne--obviously thinking she is talking to Korinna--tells her Ione is a good friend. Ione smiles and I am absolutely positive she is going to rush straight to Pasiphaê. And yes, she does. Surprise, surprise.

Pasiphaê is pissed, but proud of the serf. She will be rewarded handsomely. Ariadne is summoned to the counsel chambers where the entire court is assembles. She spies Ione and shoots her daggers with her eyes. This is of later concern, though, because right now, Ariadne is charged with treason--and if she is found guilty by a court, she will be put to death. Ariadne swallows heavily, but realizes there is nothing she can do.


Jason has gotten them food and is happy when he joins his friends at the oikos. His friends, however, have just heard about Ariadne's predicament. His world shatters when he is told.

At the trial, Ione shares verbatim what Ariadne told her, and Ariadne does not deny it. She stands before her stepmother and the court, trying not to appear affected, but absolutely terrified none the less. At the oikos, the Hercules and Jason are looking at each other over the table. Pasiphaê passes the judgment upon Ariadne, and she goes off, demanding to see her father. Pasiphaê says that he is not well enough for that, regrettably, and that he has not been conscious for two days.Twisting the knife, she tells Ariadne that she is glad he will never have to hear about her betrayal to the royal family and the people of Atlantis. Ariadne shouts she has not betrayed anyone, and has always been loyal to the king. She tries get the court to believe that it's Pasiphaê who always conspires against everything and everyone, but in the positions she is in now, no one is really going to believe her. Pasiphaê give her a final out: give up the name of the intruder. She says she never asked it, and Pasiphaê laughs at that.

Pasiphaê: "You expect the court to believe you harboured a complete stranger?"
Ariadne: "I would help anyone who would see you dead!"

Pasiphaê looks hurt, but it is also all she needs to convict her step-daughter. Ariadne will be killed by the 'brazen claw', whatever that is. Ariadne panics while Pasiphaê prays to the Gods. Everyone is attendance is shocked, but there isn't a damn thing they can do. Back at the oikos, Pythagoras comes back looking shell-shocked. Jason asks what the verdict was. Death, Pythagoras tells him. She will be killed tomorrow at midnight. Jason is dying inside when he hears the news.


Next week on Atlantis: It's the season finale and Ariadne is heading towards her death. Jason would rather die than let that happen, however, and someone's father is revealed. Are you ready for #SaveAriadne? Saturday on BBC One, recap on Monday.
I's been a while since I did one of these and although there are only a dozen or so more to go, I had kind of expected to have finished this series before 2014. Well, that did not happen, so you get to enjoy the constellations a little while longer. Today, we are looking at constellation Orion, the hunter (or huntsman). It is a prominent constellation located on the celestial equator and visible throughout the world. It is one of the most conspicuous and recognizable constellations in the night sky.

http://stardate.org/nightsky/constellations/orion

Long story short for the introduction: Orion (Ὠρίων) was a famed hunter who has a lot of mythology to his name. He is the son of Poseidon and has the ability to walk on water.It is said that he once, when drunk, tried to force himself upon Merope, the daughter of Oenopion and was blinded and exiled because of it. Hēlios eventually healed his injury and restored his eyesight. After a failed vengeance attempt, Orion came to Krete and begun  to hunt with Artemis. According to Hyginus' Astromomica, this eventually lead to his downfall:

"Orion since he used to hunt, [...] felt confident that he was most skilled of all in that pursuit, said even to Diana [Artemis] and Latona that he was able to kill anything the produced. Earth [Gaea], angered at this, sent the scorpion which is said to have killed him. Jove [Zeus], however, admiring the courage of both, put the scorpion among the stars, as a lesson to men not to be too self-confident. Diana, then, because of her affection for Orion, asked Jove to show to her request the same favour he had given of his own accord to Earth. And so the constellation was established in such a way that when Scorpion rises, Orion sets." [2.26]

In this scenario, the Scorpion was admitted into the heavens as well, along with his hunting pack and his greatest hunt: the Lepus the hare. Hyginus presents other versions of the myth as well, however:

"Some say that Orion lived with Oenopion in too close intimacy, and wanting to prove to him his zeal in hunting, boasted to Diana, too, what we spoke of above, and so was killed. Others, along with Callimachus, say that when he wished to offer violence to Diana, he was transfixed by her arrows and fashioned for the stars because of their similar zeal in hunting.

Istrus, however, says that Diana loved Orion and came near marrying him. Apollo took this hard, and when scolding her brought no results, on seeing the head of Orion who was swimming a long way off, he wagered her that she couldn’t hit with her arrows the black object in the sea. Since she wished to be called an expert in that skill, she shot an arrow and pierced the head of Orion. The waves brought his slain body to the shore, and Diana, grieving greatly that she had struck him, and mourning his death with many tears, put him among the constellations." [2.34]

The constellation Orion is mentioned in Horace's Odes (Ode 3.27.18), Homer's Odyssey (Book 5, line 283) and Iliad, and Virgil's Aeneid (Book 1, line 535). The constellation is visible at latitudes between +85° and −75°, and best visible at 21:00 (9 p.m.) during the month of January, so keep your eyes to the sky.
The World Heritage Society recently announced that Hellas's ancient Messeni will be submitted as a candidate for UNESCO’s world heritage site. The site has already been included on the nominations list of Greece that will be submitted to UNESCO in the next few days. It is reported that the most important monuments of the archaeological site will be: the Asklepieion, the Temple of Poseidon, the Sanctuary of Demeter and the Dioskouroi, the stadium and gymnasium of Heroon, where sons of noble families were trained, as well as the Theatre of Messeni, which has been cleared for a make-over.


Ancient Messeni (Αρχαία Μεσσήνη) is a local community within the regional unit of Messenia, and is located in the far south of modern Greece. Most of the area of Ancient Messene contains the ruins of the large classical city-state of Messene refounded by Epaminondas in 369 BC, after the battle of Leuctra and the first Theban invasion of the Peloponnese. The ancient city can be visited and is a major tourist attraction. In ancient times, it was founded by Helots (Spartan slaves) running from Sparta. The defensive wall they built around the city to keep them out still exists in some places.

According to UNESCO, World Heritage is the designation for places on Earth that are of outstanding universal value to humanity and as such, have been inscribed on the World Heritage List to be protected for future generations to appreciate and enjoy. Countries (or States Parties) submit nomination proposals to the World Heritage Committee. If the Committee determines, based on the recommendations of its Advisory Bodies (ICOMOS and IUCN), that the nomination meets at least one of the necessary criteria, then the property proposed by the State Party is inscribed on the World Heritage List. In general, the Committee adds about 25-30 sites per year to the list. Today there are 911 sites on the list, located in 151 countries around the world.

Once a country signs the Convention, and has sites inscribed on the World Heritage List, the resulting prestige often helps raise awareness among citizens and governments for heritage preservation. Greater awareness leads to a general rise in the level of the protection and conservation given to heritage properties. A country may also receive financial assistance and expert advice from the World Heritage Committee to support activities for the preservation of its sites. In the case of Messini, this would ensure that many generations to come can enjoy the wealth of beauty that Messini represents, and I for one, hope they get added to the list.
Today, I would like to take a moment to talk to you about zeal, which should really be a positive word, but tends to end up being something decidedly negative. Zeal is defined as:

"Enthusiastic devotion to a cause, ideal, or goal and tireless diligence in its furtherance."

At it's core lies deep love, and especially in relation to religion, zeal is a beautiful thing. It allows you to live, breath, your religion and helps engrain it into every single part of life. Especialy when first joining a religion, a good bit of zeal to drive your research and practice is a good thing. Yet, we have come to associate zeal with 'zealot'; an immoderate, fanatical, or extreme adherent to a cause, especially a religious one. When we think of 'zeal', I have found many flash back to time spent in Christian churches, or to news images of planes flying into towers. Zeal has been dropped from our vocabularies in favor of kinder--less treathening--words. There is nothing wrong with this in and of itself; there are many ways to describe love for a religion or cause, but we have lost something along the wa, I feel. When deep love and devotion bcome synonymous with hate and terror, something went wrong along the way.

The word 'zeal' comes to us through the Old French word 'zel', which comes from the Late Latin word 'zêlus', which comes from the Greek 'zêlos'. It's the name of a God; Zêlos is the daimon of eager rivalry, emulation, envy, jealousy and zeal. He is siblings with Nike (Victory), Bia (Force) and Kratos (Strength) and stands by the throne of Zeus as one of the enforcers of the God King. He was closely linked to sporting competitions and may have even been worshipped in Olympia in that capacity. He was also closely connected with the Eris, Goddess of strife, as the driving force of competition. Oppianos, in his beautiful 'Kynegetika' wrote:

"O father Zeus, how fierce a heart hath Zelos! Him hast thou made, O lord, mightier than nature to behold and has given him the bitter force of fire, and in his right hand hast vouchsafed to him to wear a sword of adamant. He preserves not, when he comes, dear children to their loving parents, he knows nor comrade nor kin nor cousin, when he intervenes grievous and unspeakable. He also in former times arrayed against their own children heroes themselves and hobble heroines." [3. 236]

I think we often forget the power zeal can give us; the strength it provides, and the pride it allows us to feel about something we love. Zeal is perfectly acceptable anywhere else (seriously, have you ever been involved in fandom on Tumblr? Anything goes!) but when it comes to religion, we tend to shut our mouths and downplay its importance in our lives because we fear the judgement of others. I am guilty of this myself and there are days when I get angry about it. When I find myself talking around the terms 'Hellenic polytheism' in job interviews or at birthday parties, I remember the time when I wasn't out as a lesbian yet and I made my own life miserable by speaking solely in gender-neutral terminology in the hope no one noticed I had recently realized I was different than they were. I got over that, and I hope one day I will get fully over my habit to downplay the importance of my religion as well.

I value the zeal I have for my religion, but I am not a zealot. I love my religion, the time I spent talking about it, practicing it, thinking about it, discussing it--I am defined by my religion in a way that goes far beyond casual practice. Yet, I am far more than that; I have a wonderful relationship, an active job-hunt going on, ahealthy Once Upon A Time obsession I spent far too much time on, and wonderful friends who take me to hold their hand when they get a tattoo done or dye their hair purple. all of these things define me just asmuch as my religion and if I can speak out about the others proudly, I must learn to do so about my religion as well, because in the honest life I want for myself, religious freedom is a major priority.
I am so sorry, but I slept horribly last night and when I finally did fall asleep, it must have messed with my biological clock enough to make me oversleep. As a result, today's post is pure improvisation in the span of five minutes. I promise to do better on Saturday, as tomorrow's blog post was already written two weeks ago when I forgot all about the 'Y' in the alphabet. Bad blogger.

At any rate, yesterday I was in the mood to catch up on old times and although I am well aware of how controversial this whole thing was, I am sharing with you today (in five videos, no less) the lightning of the flame ceremony of the Olympic Games of 2008. I love the Olympic Games but I am so conflicted over Russia's winter games. As a lesbian, I feel so horrible that I do sort of want to watch it... It's driving me nuts. So here are videos of a slightly simpler political and ethical Olympics. Actual text tomorrow and onwards.






Today's blog post is heavily sponsored by Elaion, and almost completely written by my wonderful friend and spiritual partner Robert Clark, core founder of Elaion. We have decided to hold a new PAT ritual in honor of the Poseidonia on the 22th of December, 10 AM EST, and we would love to have you join us! Robert has condly pulled together this information on the festival I would like to present you with, as the Poseidonia is one of those festivals you don't hear a lot about these days.


Ancient months usually bear the name of the major festival. We are now in the ancient Athenian month of Poseideon.  Poseidon as savior of ships, protector of those who voyage in ships, and God of the lapping waters both salt and fresh important for agriculture, is thanked for the many gifts that came from faraway places that were likely given at that time.  The immense trade and distribution was nearly all through shipping, relatively little overland, whether it be perfume from Cyprus or pottery from Corinth.   It is interesting today that Agios Nikolaos (Saint Nikolas) is the Patron Saint of seafarers in the Orthodox Church.  Celebrating Poseidon's Festival seems to be lost in modern practice.  It likely entailed bonfires, feasting, cutting of trees (probably decorated), and very likely gift giving.  As God of begetting, that aspect was not forgotten.  The most complete account of the festival is Noel Robertson's article Poseidon's Festival at the Winter Solstice, The Classical Quarterly, New Series, Vol. 34, No. 1. (1984), pp. 1-16:

"The record shows that Poseidon was once worshipped in every part of greece as a god of deneral importance to the community."

"The festival falls near the winter solstice, and the ritual business marked by jollity and license, belongs to the general type of solstice festival known the world over.  At Poseidon’s festival, however, the sportive conduct has a definite purpose; this purpose arises from the fundamental agrarian background if Mediterranean society, and may bring us close to the origin of solstice festivals."

"It has scarcely been noticed that festivals of Poseidon, more than those of any other Greek deity, fall at just this time of year; yet the evidence is extensive."

"The festival Poseidea and some of the rites in question are often claimed for Poseidon the sea-god, but at this season sailing is furthest from one’s mind, and fishing on the shore is by no means an overriding concern.  Such details as we have point elsewhere, to Poseidon as the god of fresh water who fructifies Demeter’s fields."

One of Poseidon’s epithets is prosklystios, 'of the lapping water'. He is also invoked as Poseidon phytalmios which implies natural fertility and human procreation. There are also implications in the legends that imply bonfires at the winter solstice.

Noel Robertson concludes:

"…the celebrants feast to satiety, then turn to lascivious teasing. What is the ritual purpose of such conduct?  It obviously suits Poseidon’s mythical reputation as the most lustful of gods, who far surpasses Apollo and Zeus in the number of his liaisons and his offspring. Poseidon the seducer is the god of springs and rivers; his women typically succumb while bathing or drawing water; the type of the river god is a rampant bull. But the ritual likewise treats Poseidon as a procreant force; witness the epithets phytalmios, genesios, pater, etc. as interpreted above. The myths and the ritual reflect the same belief. The rushing waters are a proponent male power, just as the fields which they fertilize are a prolific female.  Both water and the fields, both Poseidon and Demeter, can be made to operate by sympathetic magic.  The rites of our winter festival rouse Poseidon and bring the rushing waters…"

It is interesting that that Theophrastus tells us the the silver fir was important in ship building, especially for masts. The ‘tannenbaum’ is a silver fir. It is also interesting to compare with the Roman Saturnalia which may very well have borrowed from the Poseidea.


I might return later in the week with a little more information on the festival, but for now, I would like to once more invite you to join our PAT riatual--which we would love to do with you at 10 AM, but anywhere from dusk on the 21th of December to dusk on the 22th is perfectly alright.