>> ^alien_concept:

The entirety of Ceremonials is fucking amazing and everyone should have it, listen to it and LOVE it!!


What he said! This album is a must have!

I'm a little confused by this video though. I don't recognize all of the video clips, but a good number of them are just taken from other Florence and the Machine music videos. Since we never actually see her singing any of the lyrics of this song along with the music I must say I'm somewhat skeptical at the authenticity of it actually being done by the band. But I could very wrong about that as well.

The entirety of Ceremonials is fucking amazing and everyone should have it, listen to it and LOVE it!!

SREDNI VASHTAR

Conradin was ten years old, and the doctor had pronounced his professional opinion that the boy would not live another five years. The doctor was silky and effete, and counted for little, but his opinion was endorsed by Mrs. De Ropp, who counted for nearly everything. Mrs. De Ropp was Conradin's cousin and guardian, and in his eyes she represented those three-fifths of the world that are necessary and disagreeable and real; the other two-fifths, in perpetual antagonism to the foregoing, were summed up in himself and his imagination. One of these days Conradin supposed he would succumb to the mastering pressure of wearisome necessary things---such as illnesses and coddling restrictions and drawn-out dulness. Without his imagination, which was rampant under the spur of loneliness, he would have succumbed long ago.

Mrs. De Ropp would never, in her honestest moments, have confessed to herself that she disliked Conradin, though she might have been dimly aware that thwarting him ``for his good'' was a duty which she did not find particularly irksome. Conradin hated her with a desperate sincerity which he was perfectly able to mask. Such few pleasures as he could contrive for himself gained an added relish from the likelihood that they would be displeasing to his guardian, and from the realm of his imagination she was locked out---an unclean thing, which should find no entrance.

In the dull, cheerless garden, overlooked by so many windows that were ready to open with a message not to do this or that, or a reminder that medicines were due, he found little attraction. The few fruit-trees that it contained were set jealously apart from his plucking, as though they were rare specimens of their kind blooming in an arid waste; it would probably have been difficult to find a market-gardener who would have offered ten shillings for their entire yearly produce. In a forgotten corner, however, almost hidden behind a dismal shrubbery, was a disused tool-shed of respectable proportions, and within its walls Conradin found a haven, something that took on the varying aspects of a playroom and a cathedral. He had peopled it with a legion of familiar phantoms, evoked partly from fragments of history and partly from his own brain, but it also boasted two inmates of flesh and blood. In one corner lived a ragged-plumaged Houdan hen, on which the boy lavished an affection that had scarcely another outlet. Further back in the gloom stood a large hutch, divided into two compartments, one of which was fronted with close iron bars. This was the abode of a large polecat-ferret, which a friendly butcher-boy had once smuggled, cage and all, into its present quarters, in exchange for a long-secreted hoard of small silver. Conradin was dreadfully afraid of the lithe, sharp-fanged beast, but it was his most treasured possession. Its very presence in the tool-shed was a secret and fearful joy, to be kept scrupulously from the knowledge of the Woman, as he privately dubbed his cousin. And one day, out of Heaven knows what material, he spun the beast a wonderful name, and from that moment it grew into a god and a religion. The Woman indulged in religion once a week at a church near by, and took Conradin with her, but to him the church service was an alien rite in the House of Rimmon. Every Thursday, in the dim and musty silence of the tool-shed, he worshipped with mystic and elaborate ceremonial before the wooden hutch where dwelt Sredni Vashtar, the great ferret. Red flowers in their season and scarlet berries in the winter-time were offered at his shrine, for he was a god who laid some special stress on the fierce impatient side of things, as opposed to the Woman's religion, which, as far as Conradin could observe, went to great lengths in the contrary direction. And on great festivals powdered nutmeg was strewn in front of his hutch, an important feature of the offering being that the nutmeg had to be stolen. These festivals were of irregular occurrence, and were chiefly appointed to celebrate some passing event. On one occasion, when Mrs. De Ropp suffered from acute toothache for three days, Conradin kept up the festival during the entire three days, and almost succeeded in persuading himself that Sredni Vashtar was personally responsible for the toothache. If the malady had lasted for another day the supply of nutmeg would have given out.

The Houdan hen was never drawn into the cult of Sredni Vashtar. Conradin had long ago settled that she was an Anabaptist. He did not pretend to have the remotest knowledge as to what an Anabaptist was, but he privately hoped that it was dashing and not very respectable. Mrs. De Ropp was the ground plan on which he based and detested all respectability.

After a while Conradin's absorption in the tool-shed began to attract the notice of his guardian. ``It is not good for him to be pottering down there in all weathers,'' she promptly decided, and at breakfast one morning she announced that the Houdan hen had been sold and taken away overnight. With her short-sighted eyes she peered at Conradin, waiting for an outbreak of rage and sorrow, which she was ready to rebuke with a flow of excellent precepts and reasoning. But Conradin said nothing: there was nothing to be said. Something perhaps in his white set face gave her a momentary qualm, for at tea that afternoon there was toast on the table, a delicacy which she usually banned on the ground that it was bad for him; also because the making of it ``gave trouble,'' a deadly offence in the middle-class feminine eye.

``I thought you liked toast,'' she exclaimed, with an injured air, observing that he did not touch it.

``Sometimes,'' said Conradin.

In the shed that evening there was an innovation in the worship of the hutch-god. Conradin had been wont to chant his praises, tonight be asked a boon.

``Do one thing for me, Sredni Vashtar.''

The thing was not specified. As Sredni Vashtar was a god he must be supposed to know. And choking back a sob as he looked at that other empty comer, Conradin went back to the world he so hated.

And every night, in the welcome darkness of his bedroom, and every evening in the dusk of the tool-shed, Conradin's bitter litany went up: ``Do one thing for me, Sredni Vashtar.''

Mrs. De Ropp noticed that the visits to the shed did not cease, and one day she made a further journey of inspection.

``What are you keeping in that locked hutch?'' she asked. ``I believe it's guinea-pigs. I'll have them all cleared away.''

Conradin shut his lips tight, but the Woman ransacked his bedroom till she found the carefully hidden key, and forthwith marched down to the shed to complete her discovery. It was a cold afternoon, and Conradin had been bidden to keep to the house. From the furthest window of the dining-room the door of the shed could just be seen beyond the corner of the shrubbery, and there Conradin stationed himself. He saw the Woman enter, and then be imagined her opening the door of the sacred hutch and peering down with her short-sighted eyes into the thick straw bed where his god lay hidden. Perhaps she would prod at the straw in her clumsy impatience. And Conradin fervently breathed his prayer for the last time. But he knew as he prayed that he did not believe. He knew that the Woman would come out presently with that pursed smile he loathed so well on her face, and that in an hour or two the gardener would carry away his wonderful god, a god no longer, but a simple brown ferret in a hutch. And he knew that the Woman would triumph always as she triumphed now, and that he would grow ever more sickly under her pestering and domineering and superior wisdom, till one day nothing would matter much more with him, and the doctor would be proved right. And in the sting and misery of his defeat, he began to chant loudly and defiantly the hymn of his threatened idol:

Sredni Vashtar went forth,
His thoughts were red thoughts and his teeth were white.
His enemies called for peace, but he brought them death.
Sredni Vashtar the Beautiful.

And then of a sudden he stopped his chanting and drew closer to the window-pane. The door of the shed still stood ajar as it had been left, and the minutes were slipping by. They were long minutes, but they slipped by nevertheless. He watched the starlings running and flying in little parties across the lawn; he counted them over and over again, with one eye always on that swinging door. A sour-faced maid came in to lay the table for tea, and still Conradin stood and waited and watched. Hope had crept by inches into his heart, and now a look of triumph began to blaze in his eyes that had only known the wistful patience of defeat. Under his breath, with a furtive exultation, he began once again the pæan of victory and devastation. And presently his eyes were rewarded: out through that doorway came a long, low, yellow-and-brown beast, with eyes a-blink at the waning daylight, and dark wet stains around the fur of jaws and throat. Conradin dropped on his knees. The great polecat-ferret made its way down to a small brook at the foot of the garden, drank for a moment, then crossed a little plank bridge and was lost to sight in the bushes. Such was the passing of Sredni Vashtar.

``Tea is ready,'' said the sour-faced maid; ``where is the mistress?'' ``She went down to the shed some time ago,'' said Conradin. And while the maid went to summon her mistress to tea, Conradin fished a toasting-fork out of the sideboard drawer and proceeded to toast himself a piece of bread. And during the toasting of it and the buttering of it with much butter and the slow enjoyment of eating it, Conradin listened to the noises and silences which fell in quick spasms beyond the dining-room door. The loud foolish screaming of the maid, the answering chorus of wondering ejaculations from the kitchen region, the scuttering footsteps and hurried embassies for outside help, and then, after a lull, the scared sobbings and the shuffling tread of those who bore a heavy burden into the house.

``Whoever will break it to the poor child? I couldn't for the life of me!'' exclaimed a shrill voice. And while they debated the matter among themselves, Conradin made himself another piece of toast.

Christianity has always been about having a personal, experiential relationship with Jesus Christ. It's about a community of believers sharing everything they have and living for God. Over time, with this denominationalism, it has become a collection of institutions founded on the traditions of men. The true church is the body of Christ, not a building or institution.

>> ^messenger:
You've really surprised me here. Could you expand on this? How was Christianity once not a religion? It's got a god figure, tenets of faith, imposed moral rules, ceremony, scripture, mythology, dogmatism, and always has. How could that be defined as not a religion?>> ^shinyblurry:
Religion is poison

You've really surprised me here. Could you expand on this? How was Christianity once not a religion? It's got a god figure, tenets of faith, imposed moral rules, ceremony, scripture, mythology, dogmatism, and always has. How could that be defined as not a religion?>> ^shinyblurry:

Religion is poison

Yep, those poor bastards, a little ceremony at the end of a grand slam - sure, but use some common sense, Djokovic collapsed after one lengthy rally, and his legs were buckling under him on other points, and while Nadal hid it better I'm sure he was exhausted as well. They should have called in some hot Swedish masseuses imho.

WHoaaaa Nelly! Look at'em go at @1:33!

By the way this is very reminiscent of traditional Mongolian wrestling, especially with the ceremonial march raising hands in the air. The wrestling also reminds me of Swiss and Korean folk wrestling, where rules specify both contestants wear a specially made pants. While in Greco-Roman wresting traditions no such ceremonial marching or special gears exist.

Mongolian:
http://youtu.be/l31TwwmQPKs

Swiss:
http://youtu.be/tpLWG4fvVPs

Korean:
http://youtu.be/tpLWG4fvVPs

Yes.
>> ^lantern53:

If she would just perform an abortion on her lesbian girlfriend with her teeth during a Satanic ceremony...would she get your vote then?

If she would just perform an abortion on her lesbian girlfriend with her teeth during a Satanic ceremony...would she get your vote then?

Thanks for the quality

In reply to this comment by messenger:
That was one *quality ceremony.

That was one *quality ceremony.

Nice selective quoting.

"The classical (Roman) writers affirm that they offered on great occasions human sacrifices; as for success in war or for relief from dangerous diseases. Cæsar has given a detailed account of the manner in which this was done. "They have images of immense size, the limbs of which are framed with twisted twigs and filled with living persons. These being set on fire, those within are encompassed by the flames." Many attempts have been made by Celtic writers to shake the testimony of the Roman historians to this fact, but without success."

We have no reason to doubt the testimony of their contemporaries. And if you want more evidence, how about national geographic:

Druids Committed Human Sacrifice, Cannibalism?
http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2009/03/090320-druids-sacrifice-cannibalism.html

It's actually far worse than I thought. Far from a quaint little holiday where people mourned the dead, it was sick pagan bloodbath.

What's clear is that you're more interested in a convenient truth;; you said it yourself, you skim over the evidence in apathy, and just want to believe what you want. Doesn't change the facts though; Halloween celebrates an evil day where a bunch of savages worshipped demons, sacrificed human beings and apparently ate their flesh. I'm sorry, but there is nothing there for Christians to celebrate. Pat Robertson is 100 percent correct.

>> ^pho3n1x:
Show me where, in your first link, it mentions human sacrifice...
Instead, don't. I'll quote it for you:
That the Druids offered sacrifices to their deity there can be no doubt. But there is some uncertainty as to what they offered, and of the ceremonies connected with their religious services we know almost nothing.
Also, quoting the other article you mentioned regarding bonfires:
It comes from the contraction of bone fire, where the Celts used to burn animal bones to ward off evil spirits.
Try harder.
--
Catholic Mass, to my knowledge, is not based on pagan sacrifice at all, but rather using bread and wine as a "bloodless" sacrifice honoring the crucifixion of Christ. Granted, I only skimmed the articles because I'm not really that interested in the whole ordeal, but it seems to me like you don't like to read anything other than the pamphlets your church of choice provides about each secular holiday anyway, so I'm probably just wasting my time.
You can believe what you want to believe, let me believe what I want to believe.
--
Religion is like a penis.
It's awesome that you have one.
It's awesome that you're proud of it.
But please stop whipping it out and waving it around in public.
It's not any better or more important than mine.
>> ^shinyblurry:
Druids worshipped baal, engaged in human sacrifice:
http://ancienthistory.about.com/library/bl/bl_text_bulfinch_chxlia.htm\

This was not a wholesome little get together, and it did involve blood sacrifice. The root of bonfire is "bonefire" http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_is_the_origin_of_the_word_bonfire
No, not all spirits are demons; God is a spirit, and angels are spirits. Yet, many people have this idea of a dichotomy between "good" spirits and evil spirits, but in reality they're almost all evil spirits. Any spirit not sent by God is a demon. Spirits impersonating the dead are demons, spirits which claim to be other gods are demons, the spirits people channel are demons, etc. The astral realm is owned by Satan and populated by demons pretending to be every kind of fantasy someone could imagine, and many people wouldn't. There is no Goddess, there are no ghosts, there aren't any of these psychic manifestations. It all stems from Satan. Satan is a being, not a concept, as real as you and me, and he is the deceiver of this entire world.
I agree, Catholic mass is sacrifice, because it is pagan ritual the church took on as its own. It has nothing to do with God, but it does represent the union of the sun and moon, as per babylonian mystery religions.
By and large, people who practice sorcery, divination, channeling, "psychic" abilities, and the like are all doing Satans will. They all come out in droves to celebrate this evil day, to worship other gods and practice their witchcraft; basically to do all the things which God commanded us not to do. The only involvement Christians should have on this is to pray for those who are deceived.
>> ^pho3n1x:
I think you're misconstruing the use of the word "sacrifice" to summon imagery of blood sacrifice (ie Indiana Jones).
Not all sacrifice is macabre or evil. Catholic Mass is a sacrifice.
I've not read a single source regarding Samhain/Halloween/All Saints Eve, even one from "your side" of the argument, that alludes to human sacrifice.
http://www2.kenyon.edu/Depts/Religion/Projects/Reln91/Blood/s
acrificemainpage.htm
Besides, "pagan" is a blanket term. The ones you are trying to illustrate are Druids. They would make animal sacrifices, which were then immediately consumed as part of the festival.
Satan does not exist in the religion which you are misunderstanding. Satan is a Christian idea.
And I still assert that spirits are not all demons. Is the Holy Spirit a demon?
Before you try to correct me, I also have a lot of personal experience in these matters, and I know that there are some misguided individuals. By and large though, "pagan" religions (as paganism is not in-and-of-itself a religion) do not share these views and simply see the matter for what it is. Animals and crops are harvested for the coming winter, and tribute is paid to "the death of a god", not to "a god of death".

Show me where, in your first link, it mentions human sacrifice...
Instead, don't. I'll quote it for you:
That the Druids offered sacrifices to their deity there can be no doubt. But there is some uncertainty as to what they offered, and of the ceremonies connected with their religious services we know almost nothing.

Also, quoting the other article you mentioned regarding bonfires:
It comes from the contraction of bone fire, where the Celts used to burn animal bones to ward off evil spirits.

Try harder.

--

Catholic Mass, to my knowledge, is not based on pagan sacrifice at all, but rather using bread and wine as a "bloodless" sacrifice honoring the crucifixion of Christ. Granted, I only skimmed the articles because I'm not really that interested in the whole ordeal, but it seems to me like you don't like to read anything other than the pamphlets your church of choice provides about each secular holiday anyway, so I'm probably just wasting my time.
You can believe what you want to believe, let me believe what I want to believe.

--

Religion is like a penis.

It's awesome that you have one.
It's awesome that you're proud of it.
But please stop whipping it out and waving it around in public.
It's not any better or more important than mine.



>> ^shinyblurry:

Druids worshipped baal, engaged in human sacrifice:
http://ancienthistory.about.com/library/bl/bl_text_bulfinch_chxlia.htm\

This was not a wholesome little get together, and it did involve blood sacrifice. The root of bonfire is "bonefire" http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_is_the_origin_of_the_word_bonfire
No, not all spirits are demons; God is a spirit, and angels are spirits. Yet, many people have this idea of a dichotomy between "good" spirits and evil spirits, but in reality they're almost all evil spirits. Any spirit not sent by God is a demon. Spirits impersonating the dead are demons, spirits which claim to be other gods are demons, the spirits people channel are demons, etc. The astral realm is owned by Satan and populated by demons pretending to be every kind of fantasy someone could imagine, and many people wouldn't. There is no Goddess, there are no ghosts, there aren't any of these psychic manifestations. It all stems from Satan. Satan is a being, not a concept, as real as you and me, and he is the deceiver of this entire world.
I agree, Catholic mass is sacrifice, because it is pagan ritual the church took on as its own. It has nothing to do with God, but it does represent the union of the sun and moon, as per babylonian mystery religions.
By and large, people who practice sorcery, divination, channeling, "psychic" abilities, and the like are all doing Satans will. They all come out in droves to celebrate this evil day, to worship other gods and practice their witchcraft; basically to do all the things which God commanded us not to do. The only involvement Christians should have on this is to pray for those who are deceived.
>> ^pho3n1x:
I think you're misconstruing the use of the word "sacrifice" to summon imagery of blood sacrifice (ie Indiana Jones).
Not all sacrifice is macabre or evil. Catholic Mass is a sacrifice.
I've not read a single source regarding Samhain/Halloween/All Saints Eve, even one from "your side" of the argument, that alludes to human sacrifice.
http://www2.kenyon.edu/Depts/Religion/Projects/Reln91/Blood/s
acrificemainpage.htm
Besides, "pagan" is a blanket term. The ones you are trying to illustrate are Druids. They would make animal sacrifices, which were then immediately consumed as part of the festival.
Satan does not exist in the religion which you are misunderstanding. Satan is a Christian idea.
And I still assert that spirits are not all demons. Is the Holy Spirit a demon?
Before you try to correct me, I also have a lot of personal experience in these matters, and I know that there are some misguided individuals. By and large though, "pagan" religions (as paganism is not in-and-of-itself a religion) do not share these views and simply see the matter for what it is. Animals and crops are harvested for the coming winter, and tribute is paid to "the death of a god", not to "a god of death".

>> ^alien_concept:

>> ^Yogi:
Yeah but to be fair Ricky could shit in a hat and a lot of British people would go "He's Brilliant!"

I disagree with that, we're more likely to think he's overrated than most Americans. He would never get asked to host any big awards ceremonies and I can't think of anyone's shows he's guest starred on here


Louie twice and the American version of The Office. Ricky's great but he's not as magical as some British people think when they talk about Television. You'd think the original Office is the second coming...Arrested Development is a definite contender to that.

>> ^Yogi:

Yeah but to be fair Ricky could shit in a hat and a lot of British people would go "He's Brilliant!"


I disagree with that, we're more likely to think he's overrated than most Americans. He would never get asked to host any big awards ceremonies and I can't think of anyone's shows he's guest starred on here