More Than One Thing Can Be True At The Same Time

I’m very glad for the Pope’s stance against /rump, and I can certainly appreciate why people across various religions and philosophies are siding with the Catholic Church at this time.

But some of us are also conveniently forgetting certain things about the church that are still quite relevant, even in our current political environment.

The Pope has said that “God does not listen to the prayers of those who wage war.” Yet the Catholic Church was responsible for launching the Crusades to reclaim Jerusalem from Muslim control.

Yes, this happened a very long time ago; yet it clearly continues to affect things that are happening today. While I quite agree with this Pope’s stance against warmongering, I can’t ignore the fact that Pete Hegseth’s macho-posturing is pretty much a DIRECT CONTINUATION of Catholic Crusader rhetoric. (“Deus vult,” anyone?)

In other words, the current Pope is criticizing Hegseth (and the rest of this administration) for doing the same thing earlier Popes did, while believing “God” was completely and most definitely on their side.

The Catholic Church is also responsible for the medieval Inquisition, which resulted in the senseless murders of thousands of “heretics.” It participated in the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade. It purchased and owned slaves. It forcibly de-culturalized Native American children, forcing them to convert and even snatching them away from their birth families.

Additionally, the church continues to fund and support anti-LGBTQ+ policies across the world. And lest we forget, it was American Roman Catholics who invented the term “fetal personhood” (which had never existed previously in any culture) during the 1960s.

Even just a few short years ago, the previous Pope made headlines for saying people who choose not to have children, or who prioritize raising animals instead, are “being selfish.” Rather hilarious words from a man who never had any children or pets himself; but my point here is that even THAT Pope was more concerned with other people’s bodies than he should have been.

If we’re talking about immigrants, we are on much steadier ground. The Catholic Church has long been pro-immigrant, and the current Pope is absolutely right to take that stance.

But let’s not forget that more than one thing can be true at the same time. Yes, it’s great the Pope is defending immigrants. But unfortunately, the Catholic Church still doesn’t accept you for being trans. It still wants you to carry your pregnancy to term, even if you were raped. It still believes men are superior to women, that women can’t be ordained. It still harbors and protects abusers, prioritizing them over their victims.

So while we applaud the Pope for his stance against warmongering, let’s not forget that the institution he runs has a horrific legacy that is not limited to ancient history by any means, but which is still happening and hurting innocent people even today.

Remembering Hatshepsut

Pharaoh Hatshepsut
Pharaoh Hatshepsut

The Pharaoh Hatshepsut was a woman. But in her role as Pharaoh, she presented herself as a man. When you become the Pharaoh, you became a human incarnation of the male God Horus, and the Egyptians figured this applies just as well to a woman as it does to a man. The office itself was more important than the sex or gender of the office-holder. So Hatshepsut wore the Pharaoh’s crown, the royal kilt, the trademark “false beard,” and she was even addressed as male by the people, at least within the context of her rulership. And since her reign was remarkably stable and successful, no one in Egypt considered her being the Pharaoh or wearing men’s clothes to be “scandalous.”

While this is not exactly a perfect parallel to the world we live in today, it does go to show that ancient peoples were not nearly so rigid about sex and gender as people living today would like to assume.

Our Lady of Thrones (Coming 11/1/2021)

Coming November 1, 2021 to gbmarian.bandcamp.com

Our Lady of Thrones is the follow-up to last year’s His Nocturnal Majesty (2020). Both stories revolve around the appearance of a monster called “the Ungod” in the sky. But while His Nocturnal Majesty concerns one group of characters and their efforts to repel this monster back to the Other Side, Our Lady of Thrones concerns a very different group of characters and their efforts to rebuild human civilization. It is also a double album, with Disc One taking place prior to His Nocturnal Majesty, and Disc Two taking place afterwards.

(For more detailed character biographies, check out His Nocturnal Majesty & Our Lady of Thrones – Cast of Characters.)

Album Art

The Whole Story:

Sorceress (The Prophecy)

When the Sorceress was a girl, Lady Isis spoke to her in dreams, showing her the end of the world. “You must gather as many of your sisters in humanity as you can,” the Goddess advised. “Together, go forth and build the city of New Sennebytos. Those who follow My guidance will survive to heal this world from the horror that is soon to come.”

Witchfinder

No one knew the Witchfinder’s true name or origin, but he could hear thoughts. He knew when other people had similiar abilities to his own. He killed as many such “witches” as he could, one by one, by any means necessary. No matter what was done to stop him, the “God” that commanded him to kill would not let him die. And the Sorceress, still a young girl, was next on his list…

The Church of Many Mothers

The Sorceress traveled far and wide, bringing women together in spirit from across the continent. Caregivers, educators, public servants…all became sisters in Lady Isis, and all pooled their resources to buy land in the West. Together, they built the community of New Sennebytos and made preparations to survive the coming disaster.

Initiation

When Rae first learned of the Church of Many Mothers, she thought they were just another doomsday cult. But it soon became clear the Sorceress was no false prophet. And when Rae saw for herself how safe, happy, and powerful these women were together…she began to realize she was one of them at heart.

The Reverend President

He was a televangelist. He hypnotized the masses into swallowing his toxic brand of Christianity. He advised several American presidents on both foreign and domestic policy. Then the people voted him into the White House, and the Church of Many Mothers became Public Enemy Number One.

Satanic Panic (Disciple of the Worm)

The Reverend President enlisted the aid of the Warlock, who engineered a spell to possess thousands of viewers through their television sets. Like flicking a switch, the evil magicians drove entire communities to commit acts of mass violence and terror. This horror was then blamed on “cults” like the Church of Many Mothers, and the world descended into madness.

Go With The Goddess

It was time for New Sennebytos to retreat underground, but the Sorceress refused to abandon those members of her church who had not yet escaped to the city. She sent her best warriors to rescue as many of their sisters from across the country as they could. One sister chosen for this quest was Rae, who had since taken a wife named Autumn. The lovers feared they might never see each other again.

Escape to New Sennebytos

Along with a warrior named Adrienne, Rae was assigned to rescue those Isians who were trapped in Atlanta. While there, the women were pursued by the Witchfinder. Rae sacrificed herself so that Adrienne and the other women could escape. It broke poor Autumn’s heart when her wife did not return home; but there was nothing to be done. For the end was about to begin…

The Screaming Sky

As civilization decayed, Ma’at began to unravel. Then the Ungod appeared in the sky, just as the Warlock had secretly planned. The monster’s countless tongues slithered down from its gigantic mouth to slowly encircle and devour the entire world. Most everyone who witnessed this immediately went insane. Our planet would never be the same again…

The Shieldmaiden’s Daughter (Part I)

While the Church of Many Mothers remained hidden beneath New Sennebytos, the Shieldmaiden of Set fought to survive above. One day, the Shieldmaiden found an orphaned baby girl, whom she adopted as her own. Whenever mother and daughter both felt hopeless at night, Lord Sutekh appeared and gave them comfort. “You are My Shieldmaidens,” He explained, “and the Ungod will tremble when you are near.”

After the End

After the elder Shieldmaiden of Set repelled the Ungod back to the Other Side, the earth slowly returned to life. The Church of Many Mothers returned to the surface and began to rebuild civilization. They welcomed refugees into their society, and they helped neighboring communities rebuild themselves too. The women of New Sennebytos then became legendary defenders of civility and peace.

Sentinels of Sekhmet

Meanwhile, the Reverend President and the Witchfinder had both survived as well. Together, they transformed Atlanta into a theocratic totalitarian empire: the Kingdom Guard. In time, the Church of Many Mothers sent a special taskforce—the Sentinels of Sekhmet—to infiltrate the Kingdom Guard and help those of its citizens who were trying to escape. Autumn was chosen to lead this quest. She believed her wife Rae might still be alive in Atlanta, and she was desperate to find out.

The Kingdom Guard

The Sentinels of Sekhmet infiltrated Atlanta, searching for citizens who sought refuge. While there, they witnessed just how horrible things within the Kingdom Guard really were. They were soon captured and imprisoned, whereupon they found a tortured and beaten Rae, near death. Sobbing, Autumn embraced her wife and gave thanks to Lady Isis.

The Shieldmaiden’s Daughter (Part II)

Just when the Sentinels of Sekhmet thought they were done for, the second Shieldmaiden of Set appeared, now fully grown. She helped the women break free, and she battled the Witchfinder as they made their escape. All of the women, including the Shieldmaiden, safely returned to New Sennebytos…But not in time for Rae’s life to be saved.

Resurrection Ceremony

Back in New Sennebytos, Autumn begged the Sorceress to use her magic and restore life to Rae. The Sorceress agreed, but explained that her magic could only resurrect Rae for a limited time. Once that time was up, Rae would have to return to the Other Side with all the rest of the dead. The Sorceress performed the ceremony, and Autumn and Rae were able to spend one last night together after all.

Last Embrace

Autumn and Rae spent their last night together in each other’s arms. Rae promised to do whatever she could as a ghost on the Other Side to help Autumn in her battles. Autumn swore she would never take another wife so long as she lived.

Warlocked (Disciple of the Worm)

Before she left this world, Rae told Autumn what she had seen as a prisoner of the Kingdom Guard. Even the Sorceress was surprised to learn the Reverend President was actually long dead, and that his corpse was but a rotting puppet. The Warlock had been the true mastermind all along, manipulating the entire Kingdom Guard for his own purposes. Now he sought to facilitate the Ungod’s return…by destroying New Sennebytos.

Witchfinder General

The Sorceress and the Witchfinder faced each other on the battlefield. The Sorceress was mighty, but even she could not phase her opponent. Then she shouted a word only the Witchfinder could hear. It was a name no one else understood. When the Witchfinder heard this, he froze like a statue…and he never moved again. Exhausted from her injuries, the Sorceress smiled…and then she died.

Defy the Ungod

The women of New Sennebytos launched their final assault against the Warlock’s hordes. They were joined in battle by the Shieldmaiden of Set, who had just returned from reuniting the Knights in Sutekh’s Service. When these mighty Setian warriors joined their Isian sisters on the battlefield, the Kingdom Guard soon dissolved into chaos.

Long Live the Queen

After defeating the Kingdom Guard, the Church of Many Mothers and the Knights in Sutekh’s Service returned to New Sennebytos. All who fell during the battle, including the Sorceress, were given the most beautiful funerals anyone had ever seen. Autumn was then coronated Pharaoh, and with their new Queen, the women of New Sennebytos went forth to continue rebuilding our world.

His Nocturnal Majesty & Our Lady of Thrones – Cast of Characters

INTRODUCTION

His Nocturnal Majesty and Our Lady of Thrones both hinge on a central apocalyptic event that occurs sometime in the not-too-distant future, and which I first envisioned when I was in high school back in the 1990s.

The key to understanding this apocalyptic event is Ma’at, the Egyptian concept of truth, justice, and healthy reciprocal relationships between sentient beings and the rest of nature.

When Ma’at is upheld, human civilization, the forces of nature, and even Duat (the Spirit World or Other Side) are all made to flourish. But whenever Ma’at is forsaken, it makes a crack in the very fabric of Creation itself. And there are all kinds of nasty things out there in the nothingness outside Creation—the myriad Powers of Isfet—that would like nothing more than to rip our multiverse apart from within.

Chief among these malevolent forces is an entity so utterly toxic and poisonous, even lesser Powers of Isfet are afraid to speak its true name. For the purposes of my narratives at least, this ancient enemy of all gods and creatures is simply called the Ungod.

Each of the Netjeru or Egyptian gods and goddesses plays various roles in upholding Ma’at and repelling the Ungod at a higher, cosmic level of existence. This prevents the foul thing and its hordes from simply swallowing the entire multiverse whenever they want.

But part of Ma’at requires appreciating the autonomy of all sentient beings, and human mortals are sentient. This means the Netjeru can’t just come down here and uphold Ma’at for us in all of our affairs. We are responsible for upholding Ma’at in our own dealings with each other, our environment, and any other sentient species we might eventually encounter. And so long as there are enough people upholding Ma’at across the world, the Powers of Isfet can never just seep into our area of the multiverse…

The flip side to this, of course, is that when human beings finally become too rotten and despicable in general, all bets are off. The Ungod will slither through the cracks we have made in Ma’at and un-create us (physically, mentally, spiritually, etc.), doing so as slowly and maliciously as it can. The gods will be unable to save us, as well, for we will have chosen this fate for ourselves by our own catastrophic actions. And this is exactly what I saw in my nightmares as a teen. One day, when it seems there’s just no more hope for humanity at all, the Ungod physically appears to everyone as a giant mouth in the sky. Its massive tongues reach down to devour all the people below. And the damned thing is in absolutely no hurry to eat us all at once, either; it prefers to play with its food first, since we taste much better when we are insane with fear.

I’m pretty sure I dreamed all this up from reading the Lament of Hermes, a Greco-Egyptian “prophecy” that foretells of the world falling apart due to a complete absence of Ma’at among humanity. But in my version of events at least, we still have a chance of reversing all this bullshit and exorcising the Ungod. There are still handfuls of good people across the earth who try to uphold Ma’at, even after the monster breaks loose and slithers into our atmosphere. These include the protagonists of both His Nocturnal Majesty and Our Lady of Thrones, who fight to repel the Ungod and restore enough Ma’at so it can’t return.

Our Lady of Thrones is a double album, and the first disc takes place during the final years before the Ungod breaks loose. The second disc takes place after the events of His Nocturnal Majesty, in which the Ungod is repelled by the Shieldmaiden of Set and the Knights in Sutekh’s Service. Once that particular battle is won, the protagonists of Our Lady of Thrones set to work trying to rebuild our world, and they also face off against the Ungod’s surviving mortal allies (who actually want to bring the monster back).


THE SHIELDMAIDEN OF SET

There are actually two Shieldmaidens of Set: a mother and a daughter.

The elder Shieldmaiden was born and grew up long before the Ungod appeared, and she was a police detective. She earned her chops hunting and apprehending some of the most dangerous human predators imaginable. She first encountered Lord Sutekh during a near-death experience, when He warned her of the doom that was to come. After she recovered, she became a survivalist and a martial artist.

When the Ungod appeared, nearly everyone who looked up to the sky went dangerously insane…except for the Shieldmaiden. Somehow, she could look at the Mouth above without losing her nerve. And with this indomitable nerve of steel, she went forth to rescue as many lives as she could during the apocalypse.

One life she saved was that of the second Shieldmaiden, who was just an orphaned baby girl at the time. The woman adopted the child as her own; then they traveled the dying earth, following Lord Sutekh’s instructions. The mother found other people who remained sane at the sight of the Ungod, and she raised a mighty army. The Knights in Sutekh’s Service then launched a counterattack against the Ungod, and the elder Shieldmaiden worked a spell that banished the monster back into the void. She had to attract all of the monster’s attention entirely to herself in the process.

When the Knights saw the gigantic red hand of Sutekh reach into our atmosphere and grab the Ungod in a chokehold, they knew they had won. Then the heroes all dispersed and went to live out their lives in the wilderness (as recounted in His Nocturnal Majesty). 

In the years that followed, the elder Shieldmaiden taught the younger everything she knew. The two became known far and wide among the various civilizations that developed after the apocalypse. They were beloved as heroes in most places, but were also feared for being friendly with Lord Sutekh and other Powers people couldn’t understand.

As an adult, the second Shieldmaiden reunited the Knights in Sutekh’s Service to help prevent another visit from the Ungod, which is just part of the story in Our Lady of Thrones


THE SORCERESS

Like the elder Shieldmaiden of Set, the Sorceress was born and grew up long before the coming of the Ungod. When she was still a young girl, Lady Isis showed her the coming apocalypse in her dreams. These nightmares were terrifying, but the Sorceress took them to heart. Lady Isis told the girl everything she needed to do to plan for and survive the apocalypse as an adult, and the Sorceress followed Her instructions faultlessly.

When she came of age, the Sorceress traveled the world and brought women of different backgrounds together. They became the Church of Many Mothers, and they pooled their resources to buy land and build the town of New Sennebytos somewhere in the West. Not only would this town be dedicated to Lady Isis and the Church’s way of life; it was also equipped with plenty of bunkers and provisions for when the apocalypse began.

In time, the Church of Many Mothers became subject to greater scrutiny and was even perceived as a dangerous terrorist group by the federal government. Members of the Church were hunted down, arrested, even murdered. But the majority survived and hid deep within the bunkers of New Sennebytos when the Ungod appeared. After the monster was banished by the Knights in Sutekh’s Service, the Church returned to the surface and began to rebuild human civilization.

Members of the Church regarded the Sorceress as their prophet and Queen. Some have said she could even raise the dead. Later, she and her Church joined forces with the Knights in Sutekh’s Service to try and prevent the return of the Ungod. 


AUTUMN AND RAE

Autumn and Rae were two of the greatest warriors in the Church of Many Mothers. Both thought the Church was just another “doomsday cult” until they saw for themselves how safe, happy, and powerful the women of New Sennebytos really were. After a few years of being members, Autumn and Rae fell in love and were married by the Sorceress.

Shortly before the Ungod appeared in the sky, the monster’s human allies tried to systematically exterminate the Church of Many Mothers. Members were targeted for death in every major city. So the Sorceress appointed a special team of warriors to go and save as many of their sisters in Isis as possible. Rae was chosen to lead the rescue team in Atlanta, and though she managed to save her sisters there, she did not return home herself. Autumn was mad with grief when she and the rest of New Sennebytos were finally forced to retreat underground.

After the Ungod was defeated and the women of New Sennebytos returned to the surface, Autumn trained like hell to become the deadliest warrior in the entire Church. Years later—when the second Shieldmaiden of Set was fully grown—Autumn would lead an excursion back to Atlanta and try to find Rae, assuming she was even still alive…


THE WITCHFINDER 

No one knew the Witchfinder’s true name or origin, but he first appeared long before the World Fell Apart, when the Sorceress was still a young maiden. His existence was really known mostly to the Church of Many Mothers. What little media coverage he received was very closely monitored and censored from the general public.

The Witchfinder was absolutely impervious to any physical injury; he never became ill, and neither blades nor bullets nor blasts could bruise him. He was also a born psychic and could hear thoughts. He knew when other people had paranormal abilities, and he relentlessly stalked and killed as many of these “witches” as he could. He did this because he heard a voice in the sky telling him to do so—the insidious hiss of the Ungod.

The Witchfinder first attacked the Sorceress shortly after she started receiving her prophetic visions from Lady Isis. He relentlessly stalked her entire Church (among others) for decades afterwards. Then the end came, and after the Ungod was repelled, the Witchfinder became the second highest authority in the Kingdom Guard. He would eventually lead the armies of this brutal regime to war against the women of New Sennebytos, and with zero intent of taking any prisoners.


THE REVEREND PRESIDENT

The Reverend President began his career as a televangelist. He heard the hiss of the Ungod, whispering to him from the sky. He mistook it for the voice of “God,” and things always seemed to go his way when he heeded its advice.

He preached that “the Lord” was displeased with society recognizing the freedoms of women, the LGBTQ+ community, minority religions, and atheists and agnostics. He wanted his creeds made into law, requiring Americans to convert and obey upon threat of public execution by the state. The Reverend further taught that if this were not made to happen very very soon—within the next seven years, in fact—”the Lord” would give this world to Satan, and it would be forever destroyed.

As if on cue, the country was besieged by a cult of domestic terrorists who claimed to worship Satan. Even normal rational people started buying into the Reverend’s wild-eyed claims. It wasn’t long before the Reverend was voted into the White House and started issuing executive orders that tyrannized anyone who didn’t worship him and follow his every command. Suspected “witches” were harassed, assaulted, even murdered by their neighbors all across the country, and institutions like the Church of Many Mothers became Public Enemy Number One.

Then the Ungod appeared, and the World Fell Apart.

While the Knights in Sutekh’s Service fought to repel the Ungod back to the void, the Reverend President and the Witchfinder joined forces in Atlanta, which became the capital of their new empire. Known as the Kingdom Guard, this regime invaded and enslaved as many surviving communities across the country as it could. All who were occupied were either converted or exterminated. Those who encountered the Kingdom Guard and escaped with their lives have consistently described its citizens as monsters in the shapes of men.

Our Lady of Thrones culminates in the final confrontation between the Kingdom Guard and the Church of Many Mothers.


THE WARLOCK

The Warlock or “Disciple of the Worm” was known by many names across multiple universes. He wasn’t human, though he had a thousand human faces. Each world he visited soon decayed into nothingness. He used the same method for interdimensional travel as beings like the Fae—by walking between the worlds on different Halloween nights in history (a theme also explored in Summer’s End II)—and he first arrived in this reality in 1982. The Warlock then used (at least) two fake human identities to engineer the end of our world.

In one of his roles, the Disciple was a multimillion dollar media tycoon whose TV programs made him insanely rich. He pretended to be a born-again Christian, and he used his media wizardry to help the Reverend President win the White House.

In his other role, the Warlock was a psychiatrist who worked with the criminally insane. He discreetly hypnotized his patients and helped them all escape. Once free, his patients burned down entire neighborhoods in the name of Satan. The Warlock then encouraged the Reverend President to capitalize on these “satanic terrorists” and seize more and more power over time.

When this evil spell had spread across enough of the globe, the World Fell Apart and the Ungod appeared in the sky. The Warlock was seldom seen afterwards; yet his presence continued to be felt, especially in cities occupied by the Kingdom Guard. His true appearance remained unknown, and it was rumored he could create doubles of himself. Perhaps not even the Reverend President had ever seen the actual Disciple of the Worm face-to-face.

How could anyone know who, when, or where this master of misdirection really was?

John Carpenter’s Halloween (1978)

How a simple “slasher movie” deplores the patriarchy and evokes Celtic folklore.

Merry Samhain! Happy Hallowtide! To mark this blessed holiday occasion, the next several episodes of this series will feature my analyses of the Halloween horror film franchise, with a particular focus on my five favorite installments thereof.

If I had to rank my top 5 Halloween movies as things currently stand here in 2020, the countdown (from fifth to first favorite) would run as follows:

I find it difficult to discuss these films in a countdown, and would prefer to discuss them chronologically instead. But unlike most other popular movie franchises, the Halloween series does not follow a single coherent timeline. It instead includes several alternate continuities, and even a completely different cinematic universe in the case of Halloween III (which diverges thematically from all the other films). That being said, I think it would make the most sense if I discussed my favorite entries from the “A-plot” storyline of the series (the Michael Myers saga) first, then concluded with an analysis of the “B-plot” story. So the first four episodes in this little mini-series will feature my four favorite Myers films in their chronological order of release; then I will end by discussing Halloween III.

It’s Halloween night, 1963, in the sleepy little town of Haddonfield, Illinois. Dressed as a clown, a six-year old boy named Michael Myers stabs his teenage sister, Judith, to death—and for no apparent reason at all. He neither moves nor speaks afterwards, and he is admitted to a state mental hospital, where he is treated by Dr. Samuel Loomis (Donald Pleasence). After a while, Loomis claims Myers is the single most dangerous patient he has ever observed, and he does everything he can to have the boy transferred to a maximum security prison—despite the fact that Michael just sits there motionless, never reacting to any external stimuli. The doctor’s colleagues think Loomis has gone crackers, but he seems to understand something about Michael that modern psychiatry just isn’t equipped to explain. Much to everyone’s horror, Loomis is proven 100% correct about his patient 15 years later, when a full-grown Myers gets a hair up his ass and makes a jailbreak on Halloween Eve. The authorities continue to gaslight Dr. Loomis and ignore what’s happening, thinking they will probably find Michael just sitting in a park somewhere in his hospital clothes. But Loomis knows his patient is really up to something terrible, so he follows his only lead: the possibility that Myers might return to the scene of his childhood crime, the old Myers House back in Haddonfield.

Here is where we meet Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis), a meek and lonely teenager who happens to live in Haddonfield. She’s good-natured and smart as a whip; but her closest “friends,” Annie and Lynda (Nancy Loomis and P.J. Soles), constantly treat her like shit, making fun of her good grades and her shyness around dudes. Yet Laurie does, in fact, attract a “man” when she passes by the Myers House on her way to school that Halloween morning in 1978. For a mysterious Shape inside the abandoned property notices her and fixates on her, following her wherever she goes from that point on. Laurie keeps catching glimpses of the Shape as she sits in class, walks home from school, and goes to babysit her pre-adolescent friend Tommy Doyle (Brian Andrews) for the evening. But the Shape keeps appearing and vanishing like a phantom, and Laurie doesn’t really believe what she sees as first, thinking it’s probably just some holiday prankster, or perhaps her eyes playing tricks. Tommy refers to the Shape as “the Boogeyman” whenever he sees it lurking outside the windows, and Dr. Loomis insists this thing is really the devil himself. By the time Laurie is forced to defend herself and Loomis arrives to shoot the Shape six times in the chest at close range, the viewer is unable to dispute with Tommy or Loomis on either of these theories. There really is no “Michael Myers” at all, or at least not in any human sense; there is only the deathless Shape, which has now dropped all pretense at being a mortal man.

This story might not seem to have anything to do with magic or the occult, but there is a curious parallel to Celtic mythology and folklore that is seldom noticed. Celtic lore tells of changelings, or faery children who are swapped for human babies (without the human parents’ knowledge or consent). A changeling will look and behave just like a human baby at first, but eventually it starts exhibiting weird superhuman powers, and misfortune follows it wherever it goes. It seems to me that Michael Myers fits this motif perfectly; his parents appear to have had no idea of what they were really raising, and much like the evil spirits in Celtic folk religion, he only roams free during the festival of Samhain. Additionally, the apotropaic Halloween traditions that once kept us safe from entities like the Shape—wearing costumes, carving pumpkins, trick-or-treating, etc.—have been completely secularized, rendering them powerless. The evil can stalk and slash as much as it wants to now, since the people of Haddonfield aren’t even willing to acknowledge its existence in the first place.

The fact that Myers wears a pale white mask and stalks defenseless young women is also significant. Myers is the ultimate Angry White Male, and he is just as difficult to kill as the horrific patriarchy in which we all live. The authorities’ insistence on minimizing his evil is paralleled by how our society continues to trivialize issues like systemic misogyny and toxic masculinity today. I think most people would agree with me that even when these evils are exposed in broad daylight for all to see, the common reaction is to ignore the problem and pretend nothing bad is really happening. Here in 2020, the entire United States is still responding to evil men the same way Haddonfield responded to the Shape in 1978: by ignoring them and letting them do whatever the fuck they want.

John Carpenter’s Halloween (1978) is amazing and beautiful on many different levels. It is, in fact, my all-time favorite film. It might be a “slasher” film (and the template for many slashers to come, at that), but it feels much more like an old-fashioned ghost story to me. The point is not to build a body count or gross out the audience with gore, but to build relentless suspense, to make us yell at the characters in the movie, and to leave us all wondering, “What happens next?” when the credits roll. The fact that this film was made on a nonexistent budget by mostly unknown talent (many of whom worked multiple jobs on set for free, including Curtis) only enhances the impression it leaves on the viewer. The most expensive part of the entire production was probably just hiring Donald Pleasence to play Dr. Loomis for a few key scenes, and even he (being the fantastic professional that he was) admired all the heart that was put into the project. This was also Jamie Lee Curtis’ first big break, and she truly shines as Laurie Strode, the timid girl who never goes looking for trouble, but who turns out to be much tougher and cooler than she or her peers think she is. And lest I forget, the eerie electronic music by director John Carpenter is truly a work of art unto itself. The soundtrack is my #1 favorite album to listen to, which I suppose is probably obvious to anyone who’s heard my music.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Nephthys, the Dark Midwife

The sister and ex-wife of Set is a renowned healer of wounded hearts and minds.

Even more than Ishtar or Taweret, Nephthys is the Goddess who is most often linked with Set. In fact, some people might be wondering why it’s taken me 40 whole episodes before I got around to discussing Her. Truth is, I wanted to highlight the aforementioned Goddesses first because Their interactions with Set are far less known. I also think Set and Nephthys share a much more complex relationship than what is typically imagined about God and Goddess couples, for reasons I shall explain.

The name of this Goddess, which comes from the Egyptian Nebet-Het, means “Lady of the House.” It refers to a temple enclosure, rather than a domestic residence. In the Heliopolitan cosmogony, Nephthys is one of the fourth generation of Netjeru (the others being Osiris, Isis, Set, and even Horus in some accounts). As such, She is one of the divinities who facilitate life here on earth, and who contributes to the arts of human civilization.

The fourth generation of Gods was somewhat disruptive to the natural order of things at first. There is even a story about Ra, the first Netjer, prohibiting their granddaughter, the sky Goddess Nut, from giving birth to these young’uns (despite already being pregnant). Thankfully, the wise God Thoth finds a technicality that allows Nut to have her children while still technically obeying Ra’s decree. So first it was just Ra, and all things were united in them. Then Ra begat Shu and Tefnut, the breath and the waters of life, who are the first male and female. After that, Shu and Tefnut begat another male and female, Nut and Geb, the deities of heaven and earth. While Ra themself is hermaphroditic, the second and third theological generations are dichotomous, falling into a strict gender binary that is strongly tied to the reproductive cycle.

Reproduction becomes a major theme for the fourth generation of Netjeru as well, but in a radically different way. For one thing, there are not just two deities in this generation, but at least four (if not five, depending on whether you choose to include Horus—but more on that in a moment). Only two of these figures—Isis and Osiris—are a fertile heteronormative couple, and they become the darlings of the pantheon for this reason. Set and Nephthys are sterile and barren, incapable of producing any offspring. Set is also attracted to Gods of the same sex, and there is reason to think the same might be true of Nephthys. While Isis and Osiris are like celebrities, receiving all the glory and the privilege from their elders, everybody tries to forget about Set and Nephthys in the beginning, pairing Them together and leaving Them to fend for Themselves.

The way I see it, this is what sets the entire Osirian drama into motion. More than anything, Nephthys—sometimes described as “an imitation woman with no vagina”—wants to have a child; She wants to experience all the same parts of womanhood that Isis enjoys. So She disguises Herself as Isis and sleeps with Osiris, who is so miraculously fertile, he could even impregnate a corpse. Nephthys then gives birth to Anubis, the jackal God, and tries to hide Him so Set won’t find out what happened. But Set learns the truth and loses His temper big time. Instead of trying to harm Nephthys or Anubis, however, He squashes Osiris instead (twice, in fact). Then Isis goes on her journey to raise Osiris from the dead. She succeeds, sleeps with her brother-husband one last time before he goes to Duat, and becomes pregnant with Horus. (This is where the question of when Horus is born comes up again. I prefer to place it here at this point in the narrative, as it makes the most thematic sense to me personally; but there are other versions of the same narrative that cite Nut as the mother of Horus. Just one more example of how the ancient Egyptians were way ahead of quantum physicists or science fiction writers when it comes to the idea of alternate universes.) Nephthys dutifully accompanies Isis through all of this insanity, helping Her sister every step of the way.

Women from popular culture who have a “Nephthys vibe.” From left to right and up to down: Guinan (Whoopi Goldberg) from Star Trek: The Next Generation; Death from DC/Vertigo’s The Sandman comics; Elise Rainier (Linda Shaye) from the Insidious horror film franchise; goth rock artist Siouxsie Sioux; Morticia Addams (Carolyn Jones) from The Addams Family; and Lydia Deetz (Wynona Ryder) from Beetlejuice.

This is especially the case when it comes to the funeral of Osiris; and here is where Nephthys’ innermost drive becomes most evident. She and Her son Anubis help Isis reconstruct the body of Osiris and restore him to life. Through much of this process, Nephthys weeps and wails and whimpers with Isis, empathizing with the widowed Goddess and sharing in her profound sorrow. The Egyptians prayed to Nephthys as a kind of “dark midwife” you might say, a divine grief counselor who assists those in terrible emotional anguish, helping them heal and feel better over time. This fits together with the role of Anubis, who invents the funerary arts and becomes the first mortician. Nobody enjoys experiencing death or loss, but they are facts of life, and those of us who survive must find a way to live again. To think that Nephthys and Anubis have always been there to nurture things that help us cope with such experiences (such as counseling or mortuary science) makes my heart glow like a jack-o’lantern.

Nephthys sides with the Osirian Trinity during the Contendings of Horus and Set, and She sticks with them for the most part after the Great Reconciliation. She continues associating with Big Red when it comes to fighting the Chaos Serpent, and She appears to have been revered as a powerful fire-breathing warrior in this regard. But the one member of the Divine Family Nephthys truly seems to have fallen in love with is Isis. To make things even more interesting, other cosmogonies have cited Set as being Anubis’ father; the two are often linked (or even outright confused with each other) even today.

None of what I say next should be treated as any kind of official religious dogma. This is just what I personally take from these wonderful stories, and you can either take it or leave it. But I think Nephthys is a lesbian Goddess. I think She and Set still love each other; They have just always loved each other as brother and sister for the most part. They are divorced, but for good reason; They were never very attracted to each other in the first place. Isis and Osiris are married because they love each other; Set and Nephthys were paired together as an afterthought to make the rest of the pantheon happy. This refusal to properly integrate the forms of life and being that Set and Nephthys represent is what almost caused the downfall of Creation, and the apocalypse was only averted when the Netjeru got wise as a society and changed their ways. Now these two outcasts are truly accepted by Their family as equals, and Set has even grown to love Anubis and become His stepdad.

This trinity of Set, Nephthys, and Anubis is truly remarkable for many reasons. A divorced pansexual genderbending dad, a barren lesbian spinster mom, and a so-called “illegitimate” stepchild born of “adultery”? What isn’t there to love about this, or the fact that these figures were considered acceptable and divine in ancient Egyptian culture? The Western patriarchal concept of “the nuclear family”—which insists that all families must consist of two heteronormative cisgender adults with 2.3 biological offspring born in wedlock—is not only a more recent invention in the grand scheme of things, but a blatant work of isfet (poisonous falsehood and injustice) that contradicts Ma’at (everlasting goodness and truth). There is a place for EVERY sentient being in this world, AND for the sentient beings they love too. It simply DOES NOT MATTER whether we are male or female, gay or straight, trans or cisgender, married or unmarried, monogamous or non-monogamous, biologically related or adopted—and it NEVER has. Other religions need to hurry the fuck up and get wise to this, already. Set, Nephthys, and Anubis were already on top of this well ahead of Yahweh and Jesus, and things still don’t look so good for those two on this score today.

(Plus, Set, Nephthys, and Anubis are all goth as hell, like They’re the original Addams Family—and that is just cool.)

If there is any one divinity I associate with Hallowtide in particular (which is no easy task, given the sheer quantity of Gods who align with the occasion perfectly), Nephthys is the one. My wife and I enjoy visiting cemeteries all around our state in October and November, and to me, this is a way of honoring Nephthys throughout the holiday season. Just to walk among the graves and admire the craftsmanship of the headstones and tombs; to see all the ancient iconography that still shows up, even among the newer statuary; to soak in the names of the ancestors who rest there, and the times in which they lived; to be alone in the eerie silence. Even if you don’t believe in ghosts, there is just something about visiting such places for a couple of hours that has an effect on you. Most people seem to find the idea spooky, but I find it very peaceful and meditative, helping me achieve a level of mindfulness I usually can’t reach otherwise. To me, this kind of mindfulnessness is a huge part of what Lady Nephthys is all about.

Lest She be accused of never being colorful, Nephthys is also the guardian of the Bennu. This avian divinity was associated with heron birds and the solar cycle in Heliopolis. The Greek writer Herodotus described it as the phoenix (a possible Greek derivative of Bennu), which later developed into the archetypal “bird of fire” that ritually burns and rises from its own ashes. These more modern associations are fascinating when put together with Nephthys’ reputation as a healer of wounded minds and hearts, as well as Her role as a fiery monster-slayer. Though it is really about Russian folklore, I enjoy listening to Igor Stravinsky’s The Firebird each year at Hallowtide because I find the titular creature analogous to that of the Bennu, and phoenix symbolism is very evocative of Nephthys to me personally.

Gorgo, the Irish Feminist Sea-Dragon

Gorgo (1961) is a British kaiju (giant monster) movie with several interesting subtexts, all of which seem relevant to the Goddess Taweret.

In Gorgo (1961), two guys named Sam and Joe are traveling the British seas, looking for gold and other precious junk on the ocean floor. Their ship gets damaged during a weird volcanic eruption that happens in the middle of the sea for no apparent reason, and they end up having to stay on an island off the coast of Ireland for a few days. While repairing their ship, Sam and Joe notice that the people of this island seem to be hiding something. Well, that something turns out to be a giant bipedal lizard with big floppy fins for ears. Sam and Joe decide to capture the creature, and when they do, the Irish government implores them to give the beast to the University of Dublin for scientific research. Unfortunately, our protagonists decide to bring the reptile to Dorkin’s Circus in London instead, where they make a shit-ton of money off the poor creature. The joke’s on them, though, because they soon learn that “Gorgo” (the name Dorkin gives to the creature, which is taken from the three Gorgons in Greek mythology) is not the only one of its breed. It’s really just a baby, in fact, and its mother—who is significantly larger and meaner—is now on her way to file one hell of a grievance against the entire city of London.

That’s pretty much the entire plot to the film right there, and considering its year of release, we’re dealing with some pretty predictable stuff. For the most part, Gorgo is largely a remake of King Kong (1933), save that its giant monster is of the saurian persuasion. Yet there are several things that distinguish this kaiju film from all of its contemporaries. At the most obvious level, it’s not Japanese but British, and it provides some interesting insight into the United Kingdom’s sociopolitical situation at the time. When Sam and Joe arrive at the island with their crew, they seek help from the Irish locals. But the locals will only respond to them in Gaelic, even though they clearly understand English. Sam and Joe also learn the harbormaster has been salvaging archaeological finds from the ocean, and they bully the dude into giving them all of his loot as “payment” for capturing Gorgo. Later on, when they decide to sell Gorgo to the London circus, they are effectively giving the Irish government the middle finger. That’s not once, but twice in the same film where Ireland gets screwed over by Anglo-Saxons, who rob the Gaels not only of their history (in the form of their archaeological treasures), but of their very own real-life dragon as well.

I first saw Gorgo when I was five or six years old. I had already seen a lot of giant monster flicks by that point, and in most of them, the “ethnic” people are usually people of color (or white and/or Japanese people in blackface or brownface). This goes all the way back to King Kong (1933), which unfortunately depicts black people as savages whom the white characters could easily exploit. But Gorgo was the first of these movies I ever saw where it’s white people treating other white people this way. Seeing Englishmen mistreat Irish people and animals in Gorgo was my introduction to subjects like Hibernophobia and the Troubles of Northern Ireland. I also love the film for being my first exposure to Gaelic language and culture.

But there’s another subtext in this film. So there’s this Irish kid named Sean, and he’s the only character who sympathizes with the monsters at first. He even stows away on Sam and Joe’s ship, hoping to free Baby Gorgo out at sea. The kid gets caught, but what do you think happens after that? Sam and Joe decide to let Sean live with them, that’s what. And yes, I said “with them.” With only a few brief exceptions, these two men spend the entire movie together; and the body language they use around each other at home is most interesting. There’s one scene where Sam and Joe are comfort little Sean while he tries to go to sleep, and Joe stands at the head of the bed in a typical fatherly pose, while Sam sits beside Sean on the mattress in a more gentle and nurturing pose. Then there’s another scene where Sam and Joe squabble over a carnival worker who has been killed by Baby Gorgo. Sam is worried about the guy’s wife and kids, and Joe, not wanting Sam to worry, promises he will send the family some money. There’s even a scene where the two of them are introduced as “Joe Ryan and his partner, Sam Slade”—and while that kind of terminology didn’t have the same connotation in 1961 that it has today, it’s hard not to imbue it with contemporary significance. It’s also interesting that there isn’t a single girl or woman in the entire cast, and that when one of the adult characters finally starts to side with Sean about setting Baby Gorgo free, it’s Sam (the “motherly” father). In other words, it’s totally believable to me that Sam and Joe are a couple, that they’ve adopted Sean, and that the three of them have become a family.

Sam (William Sylvester), Joe (Bill Travers), and Sean (Vincent Winter)—a 1960s same-sex family?

I say Gorgo has no women in it (aside from a few here or there among the extras during the final act), but there is at least one female in the film (if not two), and that’s Mama Gorgo. It’s never specifically confirmed at any point that she’s got a XX pair of sex chromosomes, but I think we can safely assume that this is true. How else can we explain Baby Gorgo? If you’re wondering where the father might be, there are such things as the New Mexico whiptail, a lizard species that is entirely female and that reproduces through parthenogenesis. It seems likely to me that Baby Gorgo is female as well, given that Dorkins names her after the Gorgons of Greek mythology (all of whom are ladies). Gorgo was also the name of a famous Queen of Sparta who lived and ruled during the 6th and 5th centuries BCE. So any way you slice it, it would seem that the giant lizards in Gorgo are the only female characters in this entire movie. This would make sense in light of certain combat myths like the Enuma Elish, for just as Marduk used his masculine strength to slay his saurian mother Tiamat and create the universe from Her corpse, so too do Sam and Joe try to create a multimillion dollar empire with the female Irish sea dragon they’ve captured. But things don’t go quite so well for them as they did for ol’ Marduk, which brings us to why I think Gorgo is something more than just a King Kong cash-in.

Gorgo the Irish Feminist Sea-Dragon (with Daughter)

I’ve always found the original 1933 King Kong too horrific to watch, because it’s about people committing acts of animal cruelty and not having to pay any real consequences for doing so. While many viewers sympathize with the titular giant ape, there is no indication in the film itself that we’re supposed to; Kong is presented as being just a big dumb animal who has to die so the damsel in distress can live to marry the dashing male hero. None of the characters mourn for Kong, and no one acknowledges that removing him from his natural environment and exploiting him was wrong (or at least, not until the remakes came along). Such was the general attitude audiences had toward giant monsters until 1954, when Ishiro Honda gave us the original Godzilla. The monster in that film also had to die, but its death is treated more like a funeral; the audience is actively encouraged to sympathize with it and to consider the aftermath of all the violence that happens in the film. Gorgo, in contrast, is the first kaiju film in which the monsters are not only sympathetic, but victorious. There’s nothing quite so satisfying as seeing Mama and Baby Gorgo swimming back home to Ireland at the end of the film, and it wasn’t long after their victory that Mothra, Godzilla, King Kong, and the giant turtle Gamera were each re-imagined as kid-friendly superheroes.

No phallic symbolism is safe from Mama Gorgo!

So the conflict in this film would seem to exist between two different same-sex families: (1) a single mother and her little girl (the Gorgos), and (2) two men and their son (Sam, Joe, and Sean). Neither of these two families is “normal” according to “traditional” patriarchal standards; and yet the film never tries to “punish” either of them for this. As mentioned earlier, the Gorgos are reunited and get to go home, alive and happy; but even the human family turns out okay in the end. They also share a collective character arc; at first it’s just Sam and Joe, and all they care about is fame and money. Then they adopt Sean, and Sam starts sympathizing with the Gorgos like Sean does. Joe—the “fatherly” dad—remains an asshole for most of the story, but then redeems himself during Mama Gorgo’s attack on London. He protects Sean amidst all the destruction, and they are both safely re-united with Sam at the end. Based on how Joe behaves earlier in the film, you would expect this character to try and save his own skin while leaving the kid alone to die (and then be promptly eaten by the monster for being a dick). Not so with Joe; he sees the light, chooses his kid over his own self-preservation, and actually works hard to be a good dad. You almost never see this kind of character transition in giant monster movies, especially in the 1960s, and to think Joe is a gay man just makes it cooler.

Gorgo does have its flaws, but most of them are the kind I tend to overlook. The writing isn’t as sharp as it could have been; most of the character development is restricted to the first two acts (which tends to bore the hell out of most viewers), while most of the action occurs during the final act (at which point, the film forgets its human characters almost entirely). These things don’t really bother me; the only serious criticism I have about Gorgo is the fact that during its final 18 minutes, it suddenly introduces a news reporter character who narrates every single detail about Mama Gorgo’s parade through London. This segment is so glaringly unnecessary, it’s virtually impossible to ignore it. The first 60 minutes of the story are easy enough to follow, so why the hell did anyone think the last 18 needed a narrator?

Another thing I love about Gorgo is the fact that it makes me think about Taweret, the hippo fertility Goddess. Taweret is like a benign chaos monster; instead of being killed to save (or create) the world, She kills other monsters that threaten the future of the world. Mama Gorgo is a perfect cinematic avatar for Taweret, and watching this film is like watching the Great Female crush the white racist capitalist patriarchy beneath Her cute, stubby toes. Seeing this movie as a kid probably helped put me on Taweret’s wavelength, even back then. If you’re Pagan and you love animals (especially gigantic reptilian beasties with wiggly ears), I bet dollars to donuts you will enjoy Gorgo. If you’ve never seen it and you’d like an additional bonus to go with it, this movie is featured in Episode 9 from Season 9 of Mystery Science Theater 3000.

Taweret—Or, When God is a Hippopotamus

A discussion of the Egyptian hippo Goddess Taweret, Her connections with Set, and the reasons I love Her so much.

Taweret is the Egyptian hippo Goddess of childbirth. Her name means “Great Female,” and She is otherwise known as Taurt, Reret, Apet, or Thoueris. According to some accounts, She was originally the female counterpart of Apep, the Chaos Serpent; but She became a Goddess and a defender of Ma’at. Now—along with Her trusty sidekick, the benevolent daemon Bes—Taweret protects the frightened and the vulnerable. As frightening as all the qliphoth of the Void might be, they are frightened of Taweret, and for good reason. Her sacred animal is one of the deadliest creatures on earth, and She is the only other Netjer or Egyptian divinity who is powerful enough to wield Khepesh, the celestial Iron of Set!

Hippos are Typhonian animals, which means there’s a very strong connection between Taweret and Set. While male hippos were feared, females were celebrated for their ferocity in protecting their young. The Egyptians channeled this ferocity by invoking Taweret for protection, especially when it came to mothers and little children. Midwives commonly used hippo statuettes to instill Taweret’s strength in women who were giving birth. People kept Her image around their homes because it made them feel SAFE in a world of terror and chaos, with no hospitals or public health system as we understand such things today. People generally don’t behave that way toward influences they think are “ugly” or “disturbing,” so clearly the sight of Taweret inspired confidence. Despite Her so-called “demonic” appearance, the Great Female is there to defend the defenseless.

Taweret never had any temples or priesthoods of Her own (that we presently know of, at least); Hers was a purely folk tradition, kept alive by Egyptian peasants in their own homes. This is ironic, given that Taweret is also linked with one of the largest and most important constellations in the northern sky. The Egyptians viewed Draco not as a dragon, but as a great big hippo with a crocodile on Her back. In funerary art, this hippo was shown with sagging breasts that are heavy with milk. She holds a chain by which the Big Dipper is tethered to Polaris, the North Star. Taweret is said to keep the Dipper restrained to prevent Set from completely destroying the universe whenever He becomes too angry. She is helped in this regard by the Four Sons of Horus: Duamutef, Hapi, Imsety and Qebshenuf.

The Great Female was eventually recast as an alternate form of Isis, the sister-wife of Osiris; but I disagree with this conflation myself. Isis is linked to Sirius and the Sothic cycle, not to Draco or the circumpolar stars, and the Isian religion is known for having absorbed virtually every other Goddess religion it encountered in Late Antiquity (including the cults of Aphrodite, Demeter, and Diana). But most importantly to me, Taweret is a “monstrous” divinity who was born of chaos and who exhibits chaotic traits, yet who uses Her chaotic powers to defend the cosmic order (not to un-create it, as Apep seeks to do). She trades in an altogether different, more primeval kind of fertility than Isis does. The Egyptian Gods are kind of like Voltron or the Megazord; they can converge in various formations and become composite deities, and this includes Taweret and Isis as much as the rest. But this is not the same thing as saying Taweret is simply a “different version of Isis.”

Many Goddesses are portrayed as beautiful, slender-bodied women, but Taweret has always been depicted as rotund, with a gaping mouth full of razor sharp teeth. She certainly isn’t the sort of “glamour girl” one normally finds in pinup magazines, and I absolutely love Her for this. (Not that I have anything against the more glamorous Goddesses; remember, I revere Ishtar too.) Our patriarchal society pretends to love women, but continues to shame them for not keeping fit, wearing makeup, shaving their armpits, or bearing children. There is nothing wrong with doing either of these things so long as it is your choice, just like there is nothing wrong with wearing a skirt or a hijab so long as it is your choice. But the expectation that every woman must fit some kind of “mold” is not only misogynist; it goes against nature, as holy figures like Taweret are here to remind us.

By the time the Greek writer Plutarch came along (circa 46–120 C.E.) to offer his version of events, Taweret’s story had been changed so that She was a concubine of Set who abandoned Him after the killing of Osiris. This change was probably the result of Set’s demonization in Late Antiquity, when He was conflated with the Chaos Serpent and blamed for Egypt’s fall to foreign rule. I think Taweret is still one of Set’s many romantic partners, but She also acts as a kind of “buffer” between Him and the other Netjeru, restraining Set when He loses His self-restraint.  (A Lady who’s not afraid to smack Big Red around with His own iron genitals whenever She thinks He’s being an asshole? How can such a Female be regarded with anything but boundless AWE?)

Taweret also resembles Big Red in that She seems to have identified more with the “little people” who didn’t benefit as much from Pharaonic privilege. The peasants knew She would always listen to them, even if the “more important” Gods of the Pharaohs and the priesthoods didn’t. In Typhonian Thelemic lore, it is said that Set is the male offspring or avatar of Typhon, whom Kenneth Grant depicts as a saurian mother Goddess associated with Draco. Grant further claimed that “Typhon’s” worship was suppressed by later patriarchal religions. As far as I can tell, there is no historical evidence to support either of these claims, which Grant appears to have drawn from the poet Gerald Massey (who was not an Egyptologist). But I do agree with Massey and Grant that Set’s worship is linked to that of a “monstrous” female divinity who resonates with Draco, and who was ignored by the Pharaohs for some reason. I just think the entity they were describing is actually Taweret.

I think of Draco and the Big Dipper as being at the “center” of heaven. Being circumpolar, they never descend beneath the horizon, which is why the ancient Egyptians called them “the Imperishable Ones.” Unlike the planets and the constellations of the Zodiac, the circumpolar stars can be seen on any night at any time of year (in the northern hemisphere, at least, and weather permitting). Since Draco and the Dipper are above the Zodiac, I think of Taweret and Set as being “older” and “darker” than any of the various planetary divinities (e.g., Marduk and Zeus for Jupiter, Ishtar and Aphrodite for Venus, etc.), as well as divinities associated with Sirius and Orion (e.g., Isis and Osiris, respectively), which are beneath the Zodiac. Mind you, I am not asserting any of this to be a dogmatic “fact”; it’s just the way I prefer to think about the Gods based on Their related stars. I also incorporated this theoretical cosmogony into A Would-Be Ombite Creation Myth, with Set and Taweret cast as the first Netjeru to be born from Nut or Mother Sky.