Clouded blood moon. A little glimpse and then back into the lingerie of clouds again. Just teasing and testing the patience of space addicts.
What hasn’t been associated with lunar eclipse in history? Angry gods. Famine. War. Annihilation. Mystery. Magic. A new boy to be born on such a night to change the world’s order. A messiah. A boy. Feminism wasn’t a trend then. Otherwise, divine messengers had to face another challenge from the kitchens of their homes.
Before science, the world was a scarier place. Solar and lunar eclipses were only bad omens. Like the fall of the Byzantine Empire – which actually happened around a blood moon. But then, it was the rise of Ottomans too. Bad news for Constantine and good news for Mehmed: Constantinople.
A God angry at your enemy is your blessing. War is fortunate for one half of the two armies. Famine on the other side of the border was a blessing of God for the adversaries. A punishment from heavens.
Bring goats. Kill newborn sons. Bury young daughters. Because Pharoah had to rule forever.
Reminds me of Apocalypto (2006). One of the finest movies. Written, directed and produced by Mel Gibson. A solar eclipse spares the cast else… watch it yourself. But then, science and ammunition were just sailing at their shores, and their world was going to be colonized. Or modernized. Or educated. Else, they were going to remain lunatic around the lunars forever.
Then Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, Newton, etc. happened.
And then came the greatest genre produced by mankind. Yes, mankind. Humankind wasn’t a necessity then as women were still inside and chastity was preserved and kept warm in front of stoves. It’s history I am talking about.
That genre was of poets and miserable men founding their women in moon. Writing poems and short stories about the beloved moon. Lying in dewed grass. Staring at moon. And being creatively pervert. Just because people had to sleep in open sky at night in summer, men had no one else except a moon to… play along.
And then came porn that took those men back inside. That’s one positive side-effect of the underrated adult industry out of at least 69 that I can count you all. All in?
Anyway. If you ever had written something, even a line, in comparison to moon for your beloved: repent. Repent now. It’s an insult to the moon, the science, the history, and the gods who one ruled this land.
And thanks heaven it’s blood moon. At least no poet masturbating to moon tonight. If they shall realize, they might understand that it’s tonight that the moon – the bloody one – actually resembles with their beloveds. All beloveds; scattered and spread all across the world.
I repent for all the trash I might have bickered at the moon over the metaphorical moon that never existed, while I wandered through the mirages of unknown deserts I once thought were real.