Draft status:
Atropa belladonna (A.K.A. Poisonous Deadly Nightshade). The plant contains at least three toxins, which when isloated are called scopolamine, atropine and L-hyoscyamine. An interesting note about atropine (xref: The Fate named Atropos) is that it has been used in eye surgery and it functions as an antidote to nerve gas. Two points when considering that last comment is, first that I have not found any comment about it being used as a treatment for Zyklon-B (which oddly enough can be derived from apples. Apple seeds if I am correct. There may be some kinship between Arsenic and Zyklon-B. Zyklon-B was one of the gases used during World War II in the gas chambers at Dachau and Aushwitz. Secondly, out in the field I am still learning to try to make a distinction between Silverleaf Nightshade, Belladonna and Borage. Borage is actually more of a medicinal herb that does not have to be handled so carefully as Nighshade which is known to poison on contact.
Deadly nightshade, in the good ole’ heirship days of Chaucer and the wife of Bath, was known as “dwale”. My first reaction to seeing the word “dwale” was in the form of a question.
How is the Hindu Festival of Lights related to one of the most poisonous plants on the North American continent and Western Europe? Not to mention a clue to a flying potion or two left over from the inspirational crew for Arthur Miller to write “The Crucible”. There is no mention of Tituba, that’s like a red-headed God – some say “that just a decoy”. I’m referring to flying potions for witches and the Salem witch trials. {Aside: one of many that’s happen before the codification of the Catholic Church (Latin and /or Asian) and to survive long after}.
Dwale is the Hindu festival of lights that happens around the same time that Winter Solstice (December 21) and Christmas does for those faithful to Jesus Christ. Please do note that Eastern Orthodox Christ’s Mass happens after the New Year of the Gregorian Calendar.
As for most holy days and holidays around that turn of the seasonal cycle, all celebration and anticipation is for the return of the sun. And the return of the son and the sustaining of the earthy line by the coming of the so(u)n –and the keeping of a king by the people. When governments of the people fail, the king still remains.
When a bad king rules, scratch that. Is there evera “bad” king? The task and mission “go” complete as ever. The divine right of kingship is a coy thing in the minds and efforts of subjects and objects. Why, you ask? No matter what is said God’s work (as also in Jesu Chrisste) is always done.
In a clawing gnashing in a sliver of my cerebreum or frontal cortex of my brain, I wonder abou tthe validity of the divine right of kings — Especially if one give complete creedence to Mary Magdalene carrying Jesus’ child in her womb all the way to France and not Glastonbury Tor. (Glastonbury Tor is a location on one of the British Isles where the last vessel went. Wether last vessel is to be translated of Jesus Christ or of King Arthure, I have not completely checked as of yet. But bear with me and let the writing tell more of the weaveof the yarn). For those who are not aware of older dictionaries, I would like to point out that MAgdalene translates as ” a reformed protitute”. Considering layity’s and priesthood’s abhorrence for said types, and despite Julia Robert’s glamorization of a dangerous job in the movie “Pretty Woman”, I had to rethink everything. My rethinking takes the form of a few questions:
1)When is a prostitute ever reformed? Do they ever really find a legitamate job or are able to hold it down without opening they’re legs?
2) Can s/he ever gain a “descent” reputation? Or lose the one they have always had?
3) If this is true, why would any honor of Richard I and sire of the Sun King (France) be respectable?
4)Still, Why would royalty be descended from a prostitute? That sulleys, derides and disgusts everything I’ve known of nobility, gentility and honor.I doubt the truth of that possibility based on a piece of art work. This piece I glimpsed at regularly as I marvelled and attended a Catholic Church that bolstered and billowed supporting stain glass windows. The particular piece was a cross that had detailed illustrations that led my mind to comapartive art history. Facin gthe cross, on the right had side is a picture of Jesus Christ at the table with two people. One I assumed was Judas Iscariot and the other was a plain female dressed in black (none of her hair was showing. Was she wearing a hijab?). Having briefly reviewed the Gospel of Judas, which is a Gnostic document, I thought it was possible that Jesus would sit down with him to plan how his public seizing would happen. The woman in my heart I though was Jesus’ real wife, rather helpmeet, if it would have actually happened. My rationale for him having a respectable meet or (mate) was in the form of a question: Why would a teacher, a Rabboni, who was that well respectedseven in quiet quarters, be saddled with an embarrasement of a wife who was publically known as a prostitute and one who wastes money on costly items? For someone so honored to help all and committ to social justice, I think even Caiaphas would have assisted in making sure that Rabbi and now Abbas Yeshua was provided for an honored even in the midst of one of the most notable Jewish insurrections during the lengthiest Roman occupation of Jerusalem.
The house of Tudor and Windsor may be of rose lineage, but of filth and lust and uncontrollable Leeds and desire, I wonder. I can make no guess at former King Charles needs and or wantonness. I also have no complete explanation or desire to guess ot the motives of deceased former King and dare I say Pope Henry VIII, Anne Boelyn and the long line of wives. (I’ll explain the Pope comment and beginning of the Church of England from how I came to interpret it later.)
Though Shakespeare worte “A rose is a rose is a rose” and, paraphrasing, Would a rose by any other name smell as sweet? Rose’s grow in junkyards and piles of refuse and huge compost piles called city dumps or the shire’s sugar pot. Although a crimson red english rose is different from a country field rose. (Once I thought ever flower was a rose and my mind reeled at the implications. Superior quality exists and certain roses are a cure all medication for all peoples. Dare I tell- roses are a heal-all. As is thyme. The herb thyme when taken internally has the nature to mend and seal small cuts and splitting of tissue. It is a heavy duty medication if you make a tincture. Be careful in the strength you brew or the amount you take. Yes, time heals all wounds and so does thyme.
From Engligh to French roses. We won’t concentrate on irises and eyesight which would answer why Frogs, Fleur de lis and The Louvre have all the making of revealing French propinquity and talent for creating mirages in the middle of shopping malls. Meanwhile, I look on and try not to snicker about the last time Gerty was at San Michel.
I digress a little stage left now to the old French name for Deadly Nightshade which is “deuil” which translates as “grief’ – - “A reference to its fatal properties”. Oddly enough, with a little linguistics stitchery and replacement of a “button letter”, not a boutenere (yet. using the herb in a wedding of maleficence), something clever happens. The French word “deuil” becomes “devil”. Thus it is also known as devil’s cherries, devil’s herb. At some level of poisoning, nightshade causes “hallucinations, fits of frenzies, crying, talkativeness, respiratory paralysis, coma and death.” A demonizwed possession in the least. Maybe France at one point was covered with woods, belladonna, wine and water to carry it all. I hear on TV that France (Paris as well) is where Satan (and maybe Shaitan too) lives.
If Demonaical possession can be reduced hysterically by a Twain’s depth marking (or should I say Samuel Clemens humour marking) of what food we eat, then France is right ground point of discovery and exploratory writs.
Why you ask?
Nee’ the work is already done. Ask at Maxim’s, ask at the birthplace of the Cordon Bleu Cooking school. The true measure of a chefor a cook is an attempt, in the least, at French gastronomie?
Still Charles Dicken wrote it best in “The Christmas Carol”. In the words of Ebenezeer Scrooge. Paraphrasing his reply of disbelief and incredulity of the after death presence of Jacob Marley, his deceased business partners, in a conversation with said partner’s ghost. You are just a piece of undigested potato or a leftover piec ce of mustard. You my alleged Jacob Marley are not real.
Would that have been Marley’s favorite meal? German Potato Salad
Becareful what you choose to eat for yourself. Whether in the field, out on the trail, at McDonald’s, or at Mom’s. Take this as an analogy beginning with this phrase: “One man’s transh is another man’s treasure” : One man’s food, is another man’s medicine, is another man’s death”.
The secret to heaven is to feed each other
To survive earth, maintain your health
The wage of sin is death
Copyright May 27,2009 In Ille Annum Dominum de Patris Nobis
