Weekday:
dies Martis
Maṅgala vāsara
Se sham
Sweetmorn
Date:
Chaos 56, 3180 YOLD
Ab-ba-e 26
Moon of Stellar Clarity 4
pridie Idorum Feb. MMDCCLXVII A.U.C.
Anno IVxxi æræ legis: ☉ in 7° ♓, ☾ in 18° ♑
6-Ozomahtli 1-Miquiztli 2-Tochtli
Anthesteria/Dystros 26 in the 1st year of the 698th Olumpiad
Parmouthi 6, 1412 years after the last Pharaoh
Mīna 26 of Vijaya, 5123 years since Śrī Kṛṣṇa returned to his eternal abode
24 Rabīʿ ath-Thānī, year 6763 in the Yezidi calendar
I originally tried to come up with some sort of appropriate reconstructionist ritual to honor him, but I was having a helluva time pulling up even the smallest bit of useful information. Does anyone know of any good sources for the practical details of the imperial cultus? Or a good reconstructionist pagan imperial cultus?
What I eventually did was dig up the one book I have that even remotely touches on the subject, Rituals and Power: the Roman imperial cult in Asia Minor by S R.F. Price and did much the same thing I did for Saint Doctor Dame Anna Mary Bonus Kingsford. This time I opened with the Obelisk and then, having lit a candle and poured some cherry Coke to the diuus imperator, I sat down to read the book.
For some reason, it was incredibly difficult. I kept jumping off to find the primary sources Price mentioned, only to be unable to find them at all! A similar thing happened when I went looking on the Oakland Public Library's online catalog for works cited. The best reason I could come up with from the ritual side was that, though I had called out to Antoninus Pius to read with me, I hadn't actually chanted the "Ignis corporis infirmat, ignis sed animae perstat" until I realized about halfway through the ritual. I have also considered that Antoninus might not like me or even that my anarchism prevents the imperial cultus from being a juicy part of my practice.
Perhaps the most accurate reason is simply that I had spent about 5 hours by then awake and sitting on a chair in front of a computer, and my energy levels were suffering as a result of the lack of direct sunlight, fresh air, and motion. This is certainly a thing I need to address.
Regardless, I read for about an hour and then devoked the Obelisk and libated Antoninus Pius's cola out front on the edge of the street.
Today is also the day I return to the calpulli I've danced with on and off for the past few months. I've spent three weeks away from them during the lead-up to Pantheacon and this is my first time back. I will be spending some of the scant money in my wallet on chocolate for their altar. Danza Azteca is really fucking hard for me, for a lot of reasons (including, most especially, the fact that I have long lacked both physical and musical intelligences) but that struggle is part of the gift of the dance. The motion and the sweat of the dance is given to whichever god I'm dancing in the moment, but the tlazolli (the shit) of my own internal struggles and shame and fear? That goes to a mup goddess, Tlazolteotl. It's why I'm there, after all.
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