The Wild Hunt (https://wildhunt.org/tag/language)
A mysterious stone possibly written in a Celtic language has resisted all attempts at deciphering its meaning since 1979. Now the town of Plougastel-Daoulas is holding a contest for the best attempt at a translation.
“No matter what people tell you, words, and ideas can change the world.” ~Robin Williams
It is usually at this time of year that we see plenty of articles and blogs reflecting on the “best of” the year. We take a look back at the best movies, albums, fashions, and moments that wrap up our experience of the closing chapter. It is not unlike our own similar Pagan and Polytheist community traditions: best blogs pieces, best quotes, most popular sites. But this year has been unlike any other and many of us are grappling with our feelings of the past 300-plus days. 2017 has been plagued with what appears to be the warring of words among many factions of society.
What’s the deal with all this moss? asks the new hydroponics expert. He had heard things about the weirdos from the first Mars colony – the ones that called themselves “The Seeds” – but he figured that had all just been rumors. But now that he’s actually in their habitat, seeing thick layers of vegetation instead of sterile metal sheets lining the walls, his perceptions have begun to change. This can’t be sanitary.
Attacks on identity are not just hate crimes, they are war crimes. They are assaults on the most basic sense of self whether the target is a person, culture or religion. These types of attacks are designed to undermine legitimacy with objectives that range from oppression to obliteration. They are among the most heinous of attacks. But sometimes these wars storm quietly.
“Did you know that this idol once received a blood sacrifice?” The Icelander and I were standing in the assembly hall of Ásatrúarfélagið1, the Icelandic Ásatrú church, waiting for our companion, Tandri, to finish putting some supplies away in the back room. We were standing in front of a carved wooden idol, six feet tall, made of pale, honey-colored wood. Dozens of runic inscriptions had been carved into the idol and marked with red paint; I might have been able to work out their meanings, assuming I had an Icelandic dictionary and about twelve hours of spare time. I only knew that the idol represented Njord2, the sea-god, because the Icelander told me so.