Sachairi Mac Cába

"Truth that was in our hearts, and strength in our arms, and fulfillment in our tongues."
Colloquy of the Ancients.

thewanderingcelt:

Hey guys. Some things have came up in my life and I’m going to need some time to figure stuff out. I’ll be on hiatus for a while. 

starfleetwantsyou:

Thus the muses spake:

"JK you dealt kinda shittily with Dumbledore and other diversity aspects, so we’re gonna go ahead and fix this ourselves" 

In other news A+ headcanons from the HP fandom. 

(via knightfromabook)

spookyobelisk:

I have lived through many ages.
through the eyes of salmon, deer and wolf.

(via hoganddice)

awenyddogamulosx:

selchieproductions:

betabait:

It’s always tragic to read about the death of indigenous languages. But what are people’s opinions on languages that are simply dying out due to irrelevance to a majority of the population? Scottish Gaelic was on the decline until fairly recently, but as languages go it’s fairly well documented - there’s a wealth of poetry, prose, and other literature in Gaelic, as well as information on Gaelic culture.

Does my country have a moral responsibility to keep Gaelic alive, or should we focus on documenting what we can on the language and instead of trying (and spending money) to keep it artificially alive (who the fuck watches bbc alba) we should allow it to continue it’s decline?

A couple of decades ago, Iàin Mac a’ Ghobhainn asked the same question in his long poem Am faigh a’ Ghàidhlig bàs, and put it into his essay “Real People in Real Places”. He quite poignantly states that the question ‘shall [we let] Gaelic die’, is the same as asking ‘shall we [let ourselves] die’, and I for one agree. 

The idea that Gaelic as a language serves no purpose in a modern Scotland is to fall for the hugely exaggerated claims of our people’s ongoing extinction within the borders of Scotland. It wouldn’t be an understatement to claim that Gaelic has suffered centuries of linguistic and cultural oppression, but the lack of a large body of speakers today does not mean that Gaelic as such is fit for the morgue.

Tha sinne seo fhathast. Tha a’ Ghàidhlig seo fhathast.

We are still here. Gaelic is still here.

I personally find the suggestion to turn to literary bodies of work to in a distant future study the language like Latin of the dead masters, instead of promoting the continuous use of and production of new material in Gaelic to be both offensive and misguided. While it is a suggestion, stemming directly from an internalised view of Gaels through the majority’s five commodities of the minority, in this case the one where minorities are to be seen as long-gone, mythical museum artifacts, and consequently easily dismissed, it is frustrating to see it being so easily passed around by people who’s entire public, international as well as national image is based on a bastardised, tartanised version of Gaelic culture.

Scotland as a country represents itself through a veil of Gaelicisms, from the kilt to the whisky, ‘the tartan is a language’ and you cannot read it without the Gaelic, and to then ponder if it wouldn’t be best to just let Gaelic turn into a museum novelty, well that is just preposterous.

You ask if Scotland has a moral responsibility to keep Gaelic alive, and I would like to quote Iàin Mac a’ Ghobhainn in response;

It is not a witticism to say “Shall Gaelic die?” What that means is “Shall we die?” For on the day that I go home to the island and speak to my neighbour in English it is not only the language that has died but in a sense the two who no longer speak it. We would be elegies on the face of the earth, empty and without substance. We would not represent anything, and the world would be an orphan about us.

I imagine those who lose their language dying in the same way as the language dies, spiritless, without pride. One imagines the tourist then entering a world which would truly be inferior to his own. One imagines the beggars of the spirit, no longer real people in a real place. They will be shadows cast by an imperialistic language that is not their own. For if they speak a language that is not their own they are slaves in the very centre of themselves. They will have been colonised completely at the centre of the spirit, they will be dead, exiles, not abroad but in their own land, which will not reflect back the names they have given it. Such a people will be a race of shadows and in that final silence there will be no creativity. They will be superfluous, talking without alternative in a language that is not their own.

You use BBC Alba as a rhetoric device, but fail to mention that the Gaelic channel is being watched by a number of viewers, five times as big as the number of native speakers of Gaelic on a daily basis.

You fail to mention that Gaelic is seen as an integral part of the fabric that makes this nation Scotland; my Scotland, as much as your Scotland.

You fail to mention that the Gaelic language has state protection and that the survival of our language, coming in endless waves of words, descending like birds from the tongues of our elders, as well as our children yet to be born, isn’t so much a moral obligation, as a legal one.

People will continue to ask if Gaelic should be left to die for many years to come, but it will still be there, rooted in the land, until the sea swallows our shores and no longer withdraws.

As Aonghas MacNeacail said, “tha a’ Ghàidlig beò, a dh’aindeoin gach saighead" Gaelic is alive, despite all arrows;

and  as Ruaraidh MacThòmais said, “ach bha craiteachan uaille air an cridhe/ga chumail fallain/is bheireadh cutag an teanga/slisinn á fanaid nan Gall”, but there was a sprinkling of pride on their heart/ keeping them sound/ and their tongues’ gutting-knife/ would tear a strip from the Lowlanders’ mockery

Chan fhaigh sinne am bàs riamh.

We will never die.

image

(via themodernsoutherngentleman)

So…I was thinking…

spiritualbrainstorms:

That I might try to strive to—in ten years or so—make a Polytheist Community Center?

This is spawned out of how much crap I’ve gotten trying to go into “pagan” groups only to find out they’re NeoWiccans who think paganism is just The Goddess and God. (Nothing against NeoWiccans when they realize paganism is more than them.) So, I’ve been thinking, why not create my own space for people who are polytheists?

I am thinking it’d have workshops, a library, probably public shrines… Maybe a book club?

I don’t know. What do you all think? Would it be doable? Would you go to some place like this if it existed in your area?

That would be a fantastic idea!

(via themodernsouthernpagan)

7 people who got their Irish tattoos all wrong

hoganddice:

Google translate is all but useless for translating Irish.

You have no idea how badly you have to fuck up the language in order that google translate gives you something in any way sensible in English.

rickoconnells:

MEDB, QUEEN OF CONNACHT - a legendary ruler from the Ulster Cycle. 

Medb was the favoured daughter of Eochaid Feidlach, the High King of Ireland. Medb came to power as Queen of Connacht through her arranged marriage to Conchobar mac Nessa, King of Ulster. Medb bore him a son, named Glaisne but their marriage was an unhappy one, and so she soon left him. Conchobar remarried another of Eochaid Feidlach’s daughters, Eithne, and she soon fell pregnant to him. Medb had her killed, and her son, named Furbaide, was cut from her posthumously. 

Medb’s father deposed the King of Connacht, Tinni mc Conri, and replaced him with Medb as sole ruler. Medb took Tinni as a lover, and through his relations with her he regained some power within Connacht, though she would not marry him and remake him King. 

At a meeting in Tara, Conchobar raped Medb, and as a result the High King waged war against Ulster. Tinni, because of his love for Medb, challenged Conchobar to single combat but was killed. The Connacht army retreated, protected by Eochaid Dála of the Fir Domnann tribe. Medb took him as a lover, and later husband, making him King of Connacht. While married to Eochaid Dála, Medb took her chief bodyguard, Ailill mac Máta as a lover, and upon finding out about the affair Eochaid Dála challenged him to single combat and lost. Medb married Ailill, and they ruled together as King and Queen of Connacht, having seven sons and one daughter.

Medb long insisted that she be of equal wealth to Ailill. Upon finding out he was one prize bull richer than her, she searched Ireland for one which would match it, eventually finding one in the possession of Dáire mac Fiachna, a vassal of Conchobar. She offered weath, sex, and land in return for the bull and Dáire accepted, though her drunken messenger admitted that had he not accepted, Medb would have taken the bull by force. Dáire rescinded his offer, and Medb, astounded at his insolence and unused to refusal, prepared for war. Her army was made of contingents from all over Ireland: amongst their leaders was Conchobar’s estranged son Cormac Cond Longas, and her favoured lover, Fergus mac Róich. Medb’s army was defeated by Cúchulainn due to a curse placed on the Ulstermen who fought for her, but she managed to retrieve the bull before beating a hasty retreat. She pitted her bull against Ailill’s, and it won, though later died of its wounds.

Medb is one of Ireland’s most enigmatic and famous legendary figures, a Queen in her own right and a powerful, ruthless ruler. She was sexually voracious, taking multiple lovers - one poem about her claims it took sex with seven men to satisfy her, though Fergus was able to satisfy her after only one visit. Medb is accredited with seducing Fergus away from his duties to Ulster, as he famously “preferred the buttocks of a woman to his own people.” She demanded three qualities of her husbands after Conchobar: to be without fear, without meanness, and without jealousy. Medb lived into her old age, and was eventually killed by Furbaide, her nephew, in revenge for his mother. She was known to bathe in a pool in Inis Cloithreann, and so Furbaide went there every day and practiced with his sling until he could hit an apple on the top of a pike which was the same height as Medb. He killed her there, while she bathed. Her seat was what is now Rathcrogan in Roscommon, and she is said to be buried in a 40-foot-tall cairn in Cnoc na Ré, Sligo. She had a vitriolic hatred for the men of Ulster, and is said to be buried upright, facing them down even in death.

(via wanderingartificer)

New Definitions!

Celtaboo: A Celtaboo is similar to that of a Weeabo, but focuses on Celtic cultures and Iron Age societies, with out ever bothering to learn about the cultures and history of the Celtic speaking peoples. Mostly made up of New Agers and eclectics, they will also believe anything from books published by Llewellyen Publishing. They dabble in Cultural Appropriation of many cultures and call it “Celtic”. See also Keltaboo.

Example: “I love Keltic magicks! My Celtic pantheon is Odin, the triple goddess Morrigan, and the Egyptian gods. I’m also oath bound to every version of Brighid and Lugh, the Sun god!  I can’t wait to use this Cherokee smudge stick at the next full moon! )o( Love and light! Many blessings!”

Rome Touchers: An affectionate nick name given to Gaulish Polytheists since Gaul bordered on the Roman Empire and was eventually taken over by the Romans. 

Gaol Naofa | Gaelic Polytheism » Youtube Update – New Videos

polyteleology:

Yeah, I’m pretty much watching their new videos all day today:

  • Lá Fhéile Bríde – Detailing the lore and traditions associated with the festival that marks the first flourish of Spring
  • Là na Caillich – The Day of the Cailleach in Scotland, which falls on March 25th and marks the beginning of the Cailleach’s rest period, until she reawakens in winter
  • Bealtaine – Focusing on the traditions and customs of the festival of Summer
  • Midsummer: Áine and Grian – Introducing the Midsummer traditions in Ireland, and the issue of solar deities in Gaelic tradition
  • Midsummer: Manannán mac Lir – Taking a look at the Midsummer tradition of “paying the rent to Manannán mac Lir, which originates on the Isle of Man

“A libation of some of the thick new milk given by a cow after calving, if poured on the ground, more especially in the interior of a rath or fort, is supposed to appease the anger of the offended fairies. Before drinking, a peasant will in many cases, spill a small portion of the draught on the earth, as a complimentary libation to the good people.”

—   Excerpt From: Wood-Martin, W. G. (William Gregory), 1847-1917. “Traces of the elder faiths of Ireland; a folklore sketch; a handbook of Irish pre-Christian traditions.” (via spiritualbrainstorms)

(Source: charlottesarahscrivener, via themodernsouthernpagan)