Inventor of the Catapult

Dionysus the Elder of Syracuse is most frequently cited as the inventor of the stone-hurling catapult, circa 400 B.C.

I wonder what King Uzziah of Judah (circa 770 B.C.) would have to say about that?

Into the Breach: The Marcher Lord in History and Legend.

As I await the arrival of the print novels I ordered from Marcher Lord Press, I thought I'd mention two of the e-books that MLP has also published.

The first is Into the Breach: The Marcher Lord in History and Legend.

This quickly became an invaluable resource to me as a writer. Castle expert Lise Hull's meticulous review of a number of (in many cases, still-standing) borderland castles and their operation in Medieval Britain illustrates the impact that the very concept of the Marcher Lord (A "March" or "Mark" being a medieval term for border) has, even today.

In addition to historical fiction, this book would be very useful to any writer who writes stories in genres ranging from post-apocalyptic "last stand" to gothic horror to westerns to science fiction (esp. "outpost"-type tales).

Any story that involves an imperfectly self-sufficient enclosed society at the frontier of security would benefit greatly from the information packed into this wonderful little e-book. In honor of Marcher Lord Press's launch, it has been discounted for a limited time to $3.

Euhemerus Amok: Thanking Jesus for Odin

Snorri Sturluson, one of my favorite humans, is the medieval Christian and an antiquarian most responsible for preserving our (still limited) knowledge of the old Norse myths and epics. Although we can glean some detail from Saxo Grammaticus, Saxo's nine books on the Norse myths serve much better as a critique of the old Norse religion than as a faithful preservation of its stories.

In any case, contributions like Sturluson's, and, to a degree, Saxo's, are often overlooked by the critic of Christ-following. Not only do the contributions of antiquarians provide a sober understanding of our place in history, but they provide much of the historic basis for the renewal of religions that would have otherwise become dead arts.

I wonder how often the neo-Odinist thanks the Christian for carrying enough of his spiritual ancestry forward so that he may approach life in adherence to his ancestral nine truths? I don't advance this to pick on anyone, more to point out that all off us have a lot of valuable things in our life because Christians in our past performed epic service to their fellow man.

I find that the critic of Christ is quick to bring up the crusades, the inquisition and witch trials. But if the critic has never heard of Snorri Sturluson, he's chosen a bad axe to grind.

It won't hold up in battle.

Greek Fire and the Silent Death of the A-bomb.

Greek Fire was the most formidable naval and siege weapon in Byzantine, and, likely, pre-modern, history.

It could burn on (or even under) water, lighting whole ships afire, and its composition was a closely guarded secret (indeed, even today, there is debate over its composition.)

How does such a weapon get lost to history? It is incredible that such a military advantage would not again appear until the Great War with the modern flamethrower.

The atomic bomb and its more impressive progeny may well be headed for the same fate. Now, I know, I know, there are plenty of parties interested in proliferating nuclear weapons from now until Judgment Day (perhaps even to hasten it) but culturally, we've moved on: the days of the Cuban Missle Crisis, the Midnight Clock...even Godzilla movies are now a part of an almost quaint history.

Perhaps a weapon that is so devastating that it has only been used once (well, twice) since its invention creates its obsolescence through its very power. Or perhaps it will lay latent for decades or centuries, awaiting its revival.

Just like Greek Fire.

Easter Is Every Day, Even for Pagans

I have had a very respectful debate with some brothers and sisters for some time, on the question of Christian festivals and their "origins" in pagan worship/festivals.

Basically, good arguments against my position can be found all over. Most recently, the Factotum's Rostrum has an excellent one.

I simply, and respectfully, disagree.

To quote the author: "Eggs and bunnies have nothing to do with the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ."

Our Lord Jesus Christ created eggs and bunnies. He was at the formation of the very first egg, which happens to contain a simple picture of the Trinity in its physical qualities. When I see a rabbit fly from its warren through the woods, I think first of God who made the creature, then of how I should take flight from sin.

Could there be a new earth (and new eggs and new rabbits) without the resurrection? No.

I realize that Easter is a word that has etymological origins in pagan practices. But ask anyone (other than a candy-starved child) what Easter means, and even a pagan will fumble around about it having to do something with Jesus' resurrection. (Don't take my word for it: a non-Christian author such as Neil Gaiman illustrated this tendency in spectacular fashion in a brief scene in his 2001 novel American Gods.)

The term "Easter" has been redeemed.

See, I'm a huge believer in Christian theft and greed. If there is something good, anything good at all, about anything in our culture, the Christian should be first on the scene, stealing it back for God's glory. We should be greedy for souls, engaging all men in a desperate struggle for their joy.
[I think of U2's cover of Helter Skelter: "Charles Manson stole this from the Beatles. We're stealin' it back."]

It may mean we get a little dirt on us. It may cause our brethren to confuse us for pagans. Heck, I may be wrong, and it may not work at all. But I will try, and here is why:

When I go on constant vigil to keep potential "non-Christian" influences out of my life, I lose my salt. I lose my passion. I successfully isolate myself from the troubles of this life, without ever once reaching out to reclaim them, or more importantly, the people who hold those things dear. Simply put, my Master didn't teach me to look at the things of this world as an obstacle course for which a medal was awarded to those who most successfully avoided touching anything. He taught me to put the things of this world to use. His use.

Engage. Play fair. Steal and be greedy. Leave nothing to the pagans for them to insulate themselves from having to deal with the gospel.

And Happy Easter. Always.

The Origin of Origins

I've come across the old saw about Christian holidays being little more than "borrowings" from old pagan festivals, and although there is truth there, the facts are far hazier (like a lot of history) than people are willing to acknowledge.

Really, the question comes down to this: which came first? True worship of God or pagan festivals? Did pagans invent rest and festival or did God first rest on the sabbath?

Is Christianity truly a latecomer, so informed by the pagan world that surrounded its own nativity that it becomes impossible to separate it from "worldliness" except by strict surgical methods? (i.e. Eschewing Christmas, Easter, All Hallow's and adhering to a stern "1st century Christian" practice) Does sola scriptura extend to all practices, not just theology? If so, how does one recognize St. Paul's appeal to personal conscience (which is scriptural, obviously)?

What, then, do we do about Melchizidek? How do we explain the seed of Christian belief that is planted at cursing of Satan in the Garden?

In Genesis, we see the birth of pagan festival ("you will be like gods") almost concurrent with the seed of Christian faith ("He shall crush your head.") The author of Hebrews reflects on Genesis when he speaks of the faith of Abel, of Enoch, of Noah, etc. all of whom "were sure of what they hoped for, and certain of what they did not see."

What was it that these early people hoped for? What was it that they did not see?

Christ.

The primacy of Christ is well acknowledged, but somehow, we resort to fallible human histories when worrying about the "pagan origins" of Christian practice. What then, are the true origins of pagan copies? From what do they draw their inspiration?

Euhemerus, Myth and History

Euhemerus is a greek philosopher widely recognized as the first major proponent of the idea that Greek myths had their origins in non-supernatural historic events.

800 years after Euhemerus, Snorri Sturluson attempted to trace the origin of some of the Norse gods, particularly Odin, back to historic warlords.

The theory that many mythological figures have a source in history appeals to me on an intellectual level, but, somewhat more importantly, at an aesthetic level.* In congress with that notion is that there are supernatural events included in some histories that are quite different in character and tone than legends.**

This relates to the concept of a pre-apocalyptic gainland. From the post-apocalyptic point of view, pre-apocalyptic myths can form from fragments of history, but - and this is often overlooked - pre-apocalyptic history can seem like myth.

Before the flood, there were giants, descendants of angels, no less, roughhousing, slaughtering, sacrificing, and turning worship on its head. People had fallen into a deep corruption, one that we have likely never experienced in our lives. Civilization had become an anti-civilization - cultural anti-matter, a societal plague. It had to be cut off for any chance at redemption.

After the flood, accounts, both mythological and historical were recorded to reconstruct those prior days. Over time, some folks flip the legend with fact, so that, today, to many people the flood and pre-existing society seems legendary and fanciful. We've created a myth that the Flood Apocalypse is a myth. Call it a myth-myth if you must, but the point is that we are a post-apocalyptic wasteland, recovering from the great Flood, yet we have allowed the accounts to fall into legend.

This causes us to miss both the warnings and the opportunities of these last days. If we could only understand the history of the prediluvian period a little better, we might better see the landscape we walk today.

*In other words, it could be proven to me that, for example, Thor has no origins (disregarding the fact that history/science cannot prove a negative) in a historic warrior-king. I'd accept it willingly. But I'd still like the idea.

**I'm thinking here of a historic footnote I came across a few years ago. It was a Roman account of centurions attacking a big snake. A really big snake. Like 50 feet of snake. But it wasn't listed among stories or legends, but just run of the mill accounts of day-to-day activities. I know this stuff can feed wild-eyed cryptozooligists, but I guess I like my cryptids too much to care.

Giants: Easier to Believe than the Alternative

These humans have an enormous physical range.

Robert Wadlow stood 8'11" and 490 pounds. He died from a foot infection when he was 22, and, I believe, still growing. Gul Mohammed stood about 1'10" and less than 40 pounds.

The sepulchre of Antaeus, the giant king of North Africa, is a megalith five meters high. When the ancient Romans excavated his burial mound, they indeed found giant bones, to their shock.

Of course, we can take comfort in the fact that our enlightened modern archaeologists casually point out that many elephant fossils can be found in the area.

Because, you know, those stupid ancients couldn't tell the difference between a human skeleton and that of an elephant.

Sure, the most logical explanation is that the ancient Berbers came across some common elephant bones and said to their people, "Oh, yeah, remember that one super-revered giant king of ours that we had so long ago? We, uh, found his skeleton at the, uh, quarry where all those dead elephants are. What say we bury him in a new tomb?"

Yeah, I'm sure there wasn't some goatherd in the crowd who piped up: "Uh, guys. Why did our long-lost dead king have tusks?"

Doesn't it make more sense that King Anteus was a really big guy who died and was buried by his people who revered him, and whose bones were later uncovered by the Romans? Why must we insist that a people who certainly would have known what elephant bones were somehow convinced that it wasn't blasphemous at all to pretend that a dead animal was their legendary king? Oh. That's right. Because ancients are stupid and we are more smarter.

Ah, this modern age. Where the least likely explanation now passes for the simplest.