Devilish

I went downstairs earlier this afternoon to tell my father I got an interview tomorrow morning. Before I can even deliver the wonderful news he holds a hand up to my face and says something about how he doesn’t want to see it.

Wondering what “it” is? That would be my nose-ring. This had been a topic of contention between my parents and me ever since I got "it" over two years go. This is understandable for it is definitely considered deviant behavior. Outside of earlobe piercings, all other piercings are considered to be outside the normal realm of acceptable behavior in western culture. They deviate from our expectations of regular self-expression. Some piercings (nipple, genital, nasal sphincter, and gaging of any tip) are even considered grotesque for they mark an open/exposed orifice.

This is a surface examination of piercings. Anthropologist Lévi-Strauss points out that in cool/cold society’s (of which western culture is one) piercings and tattoos are consider to be individualistic and each mark’s meaning is different/up to the individual to create meaning. This means each individual has a different meaning for the mode and choice of self-expression. We don't have body modifications which no note things such as rank, social status, or placement within our socitey. Anyone can have a tattoo or ear piercing and there for these are not our indicators of social stratification. In a hot/warm society, various markings (tattoos/piercings) mean the same thing for everyone in the tribe. Each tattoo has a specific meaning and it is known throughout the enter culture.

Now that we have the basics down on body modifications and how it relates to society we can dive back into my story.

As soon as my father said he didn’t want to see it, I told him to stop and to get over his preconceived notions of what it means to have a nose-ring. That is when he said it was devilish.

Stop: Lets examine this for a moment.

Devilish, as in, relating to the devil. 

Let’s look at the depictions of the devil. Seeing how my father is a religious man, and studies the bible weekly, I will turn to the bible to look for details about what the devil looks like. Under the “Subjects Appendix” of the NIV there is no entry for “devil”. Under “Satan” there is many versus that say that Satan defies God’s power but nowhere is there an actual depiction of Satan. Nowhere does the bible say anything about Satan/the devil having any rings of any sort. The devil isn’t even said to have a nose. In fact there are no direct biblical description of the devil. The only glimpse we get at Satan's "physical form" would be his history as an angel/fallen angel; thus Satan looks like an angle.

Clearly my father was not using his vast knowledge of the bible to describe the piecing.

So where is he getting this relationship between a nose-ring and the devil? There is certainly a lot of historical depictions of the devil being grotesque and bestial, much of this coming from medieval art and iconography. The devil is often shown as possessing a goat head or goat feet or a forked tail or possessing any number of animalistic attributes. These images come from pre-Christian religions or spiritual traditions which often had very strong agricultural focus. The cycles of summer and winter dictated the flow of life and the livestock became the source of your very life, thus they were held with great reverence. Christianity comes in makes demons out of the old gods. Therefore you have the goat and the bull now have a connection with the devil/Satan.

Now let’s look at livestock outside of a medieval frame. They often had nose-rings (see I was getting around to this) in which they were led around the farm and tied to posts and such. They tilled the fields and provided nourishment through their deeds (and their bodies) to the community. They were bound to the earth and to the master. This is why I have a nose-ring. It is my tethering, my grounding in the earth. I have worked the field with my hands. I have used my body to bring food to the table for many people. It is my religion, in its original meaning, my re-connection.

While living in Lakeville (suburbia) and while it is winter it is hard to remain connected with the land. It is impossible to work the land when it is covered in the snow and ice. The nose-ring is a constant reminder that I have chosen to tie myself to the earth, to serve the community. I am not a beast of burden. I am not whipped by a master into working. I have chosen to place my will in the hands of the earth and she is bountiful. Many Christians do this with Jesus. There are many traditional prayers asking their will to be the will of God. I have done the same but to the earth. To flow with the cycles of the seasons; To be bountiful; to rest when necessary; To give birth to new generations and to take what is old and broken and bring it into a new time and place and form. The cycles and rhymes of nature are holy and sacred. They bring a wholeness to my life.

As such I have taken up the symbol of the nose-ring to connotation this message. In the cold society, as laid out by Lévi-Strauss, the messages piercings and tattoos have is often misinterpreted. People do not take the time to ask what does it mean? Instead these individuals are written off as deviant, as other, and as an outsider. In this time when we need to be looking at everybody, in all their parts, we need to look at the outsiders, those who do not have privilege, the unrepresented and listen to what they have to say.

Devil: relating to Satan, who in the Old Testament was called the Adversary.

Now I don’t necessary have a problem with this one. I don’t mind being an Adversary, especially if it is an opponent of the main-steam, hegemonic culture. The adversary calls out the powers-that-be and says Check yourself. You are wrong. Here are reasons why I see your actions as wrong and I will oppose them. If my nose-ring is a symbol of Satan and thus a sign of the adversary I wish to make myself a safe place where we can discuss prominent ideas and challenge them. If we strive for balance then we need to have an adversary to check ourselves against.

I do not see myself as the Satan, the devil, which is said to bring evil into the world, which is the one most often written about in the Bible. I do not spread the ideas which separate us from god. I do not spread sin. When I have been an advocate for greed? I do not condone violence. I will not shroud you in darkness. I can help lead you through the darkness and explore the compost rich dark night of your soul. I’ve gone down that road before. It is dark and lonely, confusing and often a place of great sadness, but we are not meant to dwell forever there. If anything, I claim to write about illumination: to bring light upon. I don’t claim to be a saint or a guru. I’m not filled with the pure light of god (show me someone who is) but I can say I’ve see, felt, been filled by and in the presence of the multifarious, ego shattering, wall dissolving, soul expanding  light of the divine. I see the divine everywhere: it comes in so many colors, shapes, and sizes. I do not take people away from divine. I would never equate my nose-ring or it’s symbolism with destruction and depression.

If my father wants to call my nose-ring devilish, then I ask him (and you dear reader) to use it as a term that relates to the earth-tiller, bringer of bounty, servant to the land and community.* Let’s call those who rail against the dominator society by pointing out its short coming, its hidden spots, those who it suppresses, devils. Let's reclaim the word. Let’s call them devils and adversaries and see them as necessary, valuable and need parts of our society. We might live on the edges of society on the fridges, but we can see into the hegemony. Let us honor every element of our culture and treat it all with care. Let us be shifting, changing and stalwart members of a loving, caring community. Care for those who are “grotesque”. Care for the adversary. They will protect you, from yourself.

*Editing note: I don't think we can "warm-up" our socitey. I don't believe that we can take our current body-modifications and attach meaning to them as warm socitey does. To live in a cool society means we need to ask each other what our body modifications mean. We need to see people who are covering in tattoos or piercings as people are convening a message and instead of seeing the surface, realize their is a history in that ink. There is a story behind her tattoo. Body modifications are intensly personal, even if they are in publicly visible places. It's our jobs are humans not to see each-other as outside but to inquire, with tact and sincerity.

How the North Wind Lost

The north wind came into town one day just before the autumnal equinox. A Shepard boy leading the flock out of the pens into the crisping pasture saw her come down the road in a small chariot pulled by two woolly goats; their hard and ridged horns were adorned with bells of silver.

The Sheppard boy heard the bells and the clip-chopping of hooves from some distance down the road. It was from there that he could see the shadowy figure traveling its way down the road. He thought it queer that someone would be coming down the path so early in the morning. The mountain passes would have been more than cold at night by this time in the year and the next place of refuge was at least a day’s walk from his stables and pens.

But there she came, all billowing and with snapping fabrics. She traveled at a brisk pace, the goats tromping gallantly on the gravel path. The sound of the silver bells rang clear above the gentle breeze which moved tall grasses and over the clapping of hooves which roughed the rocked ground. The boy stood there, transfixed. Even a few sheep with their black and white faces, lifted their heads to see what the strange sound was. Certainly travelers and tradesmen used the mountain passes but none were ever decked in bells like these goats were. They rang high and clear, like metal over a lake.

The boy looked up from his tending to see the goat duo striding down the trail and witnessed the women all wrapped in heavy, dull colored cloaks. A conical hat sat atop her head and was strapped securely beneath her chin. The wind she brought with her threatened to pull it from her head at any minute; its point stretched out behind her along with the ends of her shawls. The fabric whipped and sapped in the space behind her causing consternation in the young boy.

He had heard stories of her from all the grandmothers and grandfathers. These were children’s tales of course and were told every year as the sunlight waned and the best apples became ripe. Oh to hear to hear the tales of The North Wind in the air surly meant that autumn had arrived and the time of winter squashes, sweet apples, and the best preserving spices---cinnamon, cloves, allspice, and nutmeg--- would be added to every dish imaginable certainly was upon them. The shaggy goats were a commonality in all tales. Once he had been told it was a team of horses with long tusks whose whinnies and bays were said to sound like the winter winds crashing against panes of glass. But this was told by a passer-by who was given shelter for the night and was clearly from other parts of the world. His accent was thick and muddy and was hard to understand. But the man worked for his stay and in the orchard the boy was picking apples along side the him. He got most of the story right except for the sled was pulled by horses instead of the usual goats.

The Crow People

When we are born, a crow is sacrificed in the name of the child and in honor of the birth. Its face and upper beak are cut away and adhered to the newborns head. The unguent glue by which the child’s new face is attached is made from the bones of those fled in war or those lost to illness.

By this initiation we, The Crow People, are forever reminded of our connection to death, for it fuels that which lives, and reminds us of our debt to the ancestors. It is they who taught us how to hunt both crow and caribou. It was they who showed us how to plant the seeds year in and harvest them year out. And it was them who made the rites and rituals. Without them, the crows and our forbears, we are lost; forever scraping our way through life, through an abyss, an oblivion.

But they do provide life and we are ever grateful.

The crows grow abnormally large in the foothills, or so we are told by those passing through our land. Because of the large size, they’re sacrificed and the fashioned masks are able to be placed and molded to a babies face without much manipulation. The crow’s eyes are removed and given to the godparents for safe keeping. Wither by magic or science or both, the crow-mask grow with the child. As we mature, old feathers fall out and are replaced by new plumage, shiny and soft as oil. Our faces are covered to the jaw with the feathers and are then stop to meet the hard obsidian beak.

No doubt other fauna or even flora were attempted to become part of ourselves. Perhaps back in a time just before the creation of the world, our people attempted to embed goat horns to their forehead, projecting verity and strength. Or mint leaves sewn into fingertips to spread its sweet-tingling scent wherever one was to place their hands. But for what ever reason the god have deemed them to stay separate from us—other than through the occasion ingestion—and we forever belong solely to the crows.