Friday, September 23, 2011

THE EARTH MOTHER OF ALL EARTH MOTHERS TAKES US BACK TO THE GOOD OLD DAYS OF 40,000 B.C.E.

I am the Lady Renate. Tell  me if I have addressed you directly before. I do not remember. Things are quiet in the City of Faith. All the little boys are minding their own business. Who knows? Pehaps it's 'the dream'? And most of the dreamers are afraid to own up to it. They keep quiet, lest others thing them insane. But they are not insane. They are awake.

Do you know that I was born at a time before distinct races, as we know them today, existed? Yes, yes, yes, there were people with white skins and brown skins and sallow skins and black skins. But the arrangement was more of a melange, or what somme call creole. I myself possess the form of a rather statuesque, Mediterranean beauty. My brother looked like a Hun. My grandfather like Jerry Lewis (but with less bear grease in his hair). That's how it was. Humans had only penetrated into the European theatre of habitation quite recently. And the discovery of the Americas (the first discovery, I mean) was still ten thousand years in the future.

How clean it all was. Every stream ran pure and clear. All the clouds were fresh and new. And  grasses sported a shade of green unseen since the time of the Scythians. We ran naked across the plains, laughing as we scattered the birds. The grasshoppers were quite delicious. I could eat five times 'toes and fingers.' That's one hundred to you. And I grew to be a great woman, a Wise Woman, in my pack. Twenty six 'flames' we were. What was a 'flame'? Well, think of a soul. It meant about the same thing.

I sat with the men. And they attended to my counsel. I spoke with the voice of the Sky. I channeled the will of God. Maybe it was because I never bled. That was usually taken as a sign among my people. It made me special. It made me strong. Other females rarely ventured far from home. We lived in a collection of wig-wams (that's what they looked like) arranged across the mouth of a large cavern. Were we afraid of attack? By animals, maybe. But not by humans. For organized bands were so far apart. Meetings were rare, usually resulting in quickly arranged 'maiden swaps.' You see, even we recognised the dangers of too much inbreeding. Sometimes the girls would cry. Yet after a few nights of almost continuous sexual attention...hot, little caresses.....luscious tastings....and slow, feather-soft massages they'd become quite distracted. Our leader, the 'Wolf Man,' would direct them to chose. Which man would they bow (you'd probably say 'bend over') for? And that was it. Congratulations to the new, not quite blushing bride. But as I said, I was not like the other females. I was the Wise Woman, a best beloved of the Sky. The night was mine, for the stars shone down for me. So I wandered, observing nature and learning what I could. Did the animals molest me? No.  For I smeared myself with noxious gall. Few creatures can withstand that.

But what I met was not a creature.......and, strictly speaking, not a human, at least not our kind of human.  Your learned men and woman would label him Neanderthal, since the bones of the breed were first uncovered in the valley of the Neander River. But they foraged all over. Some bands occupied territories not far from this city of Jerusalem we find ourselves in now. Others sojouned along the Bay of Biscay, in what is now called France. Not brutes, as you have been told, but attractive beings with an exaggerated gymnast's build and broad, pugnatious faces. Mine had sandy hair and green eyes. Did he ravish me? Yes.....in more ways than one, for he bore the enchantment. He was a life-eater.....a vampire 'caveman' if you will. Life must have been hard for him. 'Human' victims were spread so thin. Constant travel was a must. Rest came under a pile of mud and leaves. The earliest vampires would occassionally share dens with bears, especially during hibernation. Indeed, some still do so today, as regular visitors to this nocturnal conversation already know.

The second oldest vampire alive today, the one you call Papa, is my 'son,' but he came along much later. I was approximately twelve thousand years old by then. Did I have other 'children'? Yes, but they are all dead, or have been carried off to other realms in the sky. Am I talking about aliens? Of course. Oh, the things Icould tell you. If only you would understand. Not now. Some other night. For I have 'miles' to go before I sleep. And I have 'promises' to keep.

It's time to 'quicken' things. The three musicians are not enough. The miraculous parlor tricks of Jonathon (my 'grandson,' as yet unaware of his true potential) and the others are too slow. So I go to whisper in the ears of powerful men. May The Sky stretch over us. And may they listen to my councel.

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