Día de los Muertos

Today is the first day of the two day Día de los Muertos holiday. This is a Mexican festivity on which deceased loved ones are honored and remembered. It’s a celebration of life.

Supposedly, if you believe in spirit beings (which I may or may not, depending on my mood, the weather, the state of my chakras, and whether my avocados are ripe on that particular day), the border between the spirit world and our physical world is thin from November first through the second. The souls of the dead come home at this time for a big-ass party. Us oxygen-sucking types honor our temporarily undead, beloved guests by putting out their favorite foods and other offerings at gravesites or on ofrendas – altars set up in our homes.

On my altar this morning? In place of pan de muerto and calavera we have doughnuts because, c’mon, who doesn’t love doughnuts! 

I’m remembering all the times in college when Kevin and I walked down the hill from the art building to the doughnut shop to get Bavarian Cream Donuts (or Cum Buns as he called them. Hey, we were 19. Our senses of humor weren’t exactly evolved at the time! Cut us some slack here). I’m thinking of the frosted and plain old-fashioned I’d get with The Amazing Bob.

The Aztecs and other Nahua peoples living in what is now central Mexico held a cyclical view of the universe and saw death as an integral, ever-present part of life.

Upon dying, a person was believed to travel to Chicunamictlán, the Land of the Dead. Only after getting through nine challenging levels, a journey of several years, could the person’s soul finally reach Mictlán, the final resting place. (source) 

…and, presumably, pick up a dozen fresh doughnuts.

This is also Samhain, which is pronounced “sow-win.” I never would’ve guessed – I will never, ever be able to remember how to properly pronounce Gaelic words. On top of being about the dead coming back for a visit, Samhain is a harvest festival and a welcoming of the darker part of the year. I’m not so sure that I welcome the increased darkness. With my rat bastard NF2 and advanced bloody age, I’m a hell of a fall risk.

Early texts describe Samhain as a mandatory three-day, three-night festival during which people were required to appear before local kings or chieftains. Those who failed to participate risked punishment from the gods, often in the form of illness or death. (source) 

A party that my king says I HAVE to go to? How fucking insecure were these dudes? This is on the same level as Kegseth making all the generals fly in for his inane, weirdo, damaged-dick swinging speech and Trump’s clap or I’ll demote you shtick.  

WHAT were these Celts required to do in their compulsory appearances before their midget dicked rulers?

If I was fabulously wealthy, I believe I would spend Día de los Muertos until April each year in the Southern Hemisphere – specifically, in Uruguay. It’s an ultra civilized country (weed and abortion are legal, marriage equality is law, and they’re a founding member of the UN) and, unlike the US, they’re an actual, solid democracy. Also, they have art, art, and more of it. I’ve never been there before but I’m game for a stay. 

Well, if I had the bucks, that is.