Ahiga
06-23-06, 12:52 PM
"You ever heard of a Greek god, called Bacchus?" I asked her. She shook her head, a puzzled look on her face. "Actually, that's a Roman name, too," I added.
"Ooooh," she replied, "that's a salad."
"You must be thinking of Caesar salad!" I said, squeezing her hand. "Yes," she said.
"Bacchus is the god of wine," I continued. "I am ready for some wine!" she exclaimed, and I nodded, filling her glass.
"The story goes that as an infant Dionysus – remember? also called, Bacchus – was torn limb from limb, and then miraculously reborn," I recounted. "Women mainly worshipped him. They honored him by consuming gallons of his sacred drink and tearing through the countryside at night, NAKED!"
"Mmmmmmmmmmmm," she commented. Now taking her into my arms, I went on: "In their frenzy, they laid every man they could get a hold of.... Sometimes, the men didn't survive! For many Greeks, these rites seemed a trifle ROUGH, and Dionysus was not popular, at first. However, in Egypt...."
After a big sip of her wine, she nestled her head against my shoulder, and I went on, "....there is this story about King Osiris, who too, was cut to pieces."
"Oh my," she said, looking up into my eyes.
"His queen, Isis, locating all his parts except the penis, fitted them together again, added some mummy-wraps and a WOODEN PHALLUS, and then restored Osiris to life."
"Well....," but I had to pause, as she traced my lips with the tip of her index finger. "Some Greek had a flash: 'Osiris is Dionysus!'"
"He studied Egyptian Osiris rituals," I said making her wait. "The drama, the secret doctrines, the parade of Osiris puppets, their phalluses waggling to celebrate the resurrection...."
"When this Greek returned to his homeland, he won some converts. They prepared a festival in honor of the 'new' Dionysus. Came the dawn, and..." but I had to stop, as our lips met.
When we broke apart, I said nonchalantly, "...a bunch of Greek men, completely NAKED, paraded in the streets, with HUGE statues with HUGE erect cocks (both on the statues and on the paraders," and we both laughed.
"Many people were shocked," I then said, "but... They all shouted FREE WINE!"
"YEAH!" she agreed.
"The combination of GETTING DRUNK and LETTING IT ALL HANG OUT proved irresistible, and the cult of Dionysus – minus the bloodiness of the earlier version – was soon official."
"I'm ready to get drunk," she said, holding out her empty glass. "Now both WOMEN and MEN could enjoy worshipping Dionysus," I ended my story. "In such ways are great religions born!"
What came next, nobody seems to remember too clearly.
"Ooooh," she replied, "that's a salad."
"You must be thinking of Caesar salad!" I said, squeezing her hand. "Yes," she said.
"Bacchus is the god of wine," I continued. "I am ready for some wine!" she exclaimed, and I nodded, filling her glass.
"The story goes that as an infant Dionysus – remember? also called, Bacchus – was torn limb from limb, and then miraculously reborn," I recounted. "Women mainly worshipped him. They honored him by consuming gallons of his sacred drink and tearing through the countryside at night, NAKED!"
"Mmmmmmmmmmmm," she commented. Now taking her into my arms, I went on: "In their frenzy, they laid every man they could get a hold of.... Sometimes, the men didn't survive! For many Greeks, these rites seemed a trifle ROUGH, and Dionysus was not popular, at first. However, in Egypt...."
After a big sip of her wine, she nestled her head against my shoulder, and I went on, "....there is this story about King Osiris, who too, was cut to pieces."
"Oh my," she said, looking up into my eyes.
"His queen, Isis, locating all his parts except the penis, fitted them together again, added some mummy-wraps and a WOODEN PHALLUS, and then restored Osiris to life."
"Well....," but I had to pause, as she traced my lips with the tip of her index finger. "Some Greek had a flash: 'Osiris is Dionysus!'"
"He studied Egyptian Osiris rituals," I said making her wait. "The drama, the secret doctrines, the parade of Osiris puppets, their phalluses waggling to celebrate the resurrection...."
"When this Greek returned to his homeland, he won some converts. They prepared a festival in honor of the 'new' Dionysus. Came the dawn, and..." but I had to stop, as our lips met.
When we broke apart, I said nonchalantly, "...a bunch of Greek men, completely NAKED, paraded in the streets, with HUGE statues with HUGE erect cocks (both on the statues and on the paraders," and we both laughed.
"Many people were shocked," I then said, "but... They all shouted FREE WINE!"
"YEAH!" she agreed.
"The combination of GETTING DRUNK and LETTING IT ALL HANG OUT proved irresistible, and the cult of Dionysus – minus the bloodiness of the earlier version – was soon official."
"I'm ready to get drunk," she said, holding out her empty glass. "Now both WOMEN and MEN could enjoy worshipping Dionysus," I ended my story. "In such ways are great religions born!"
What came next, nobody seems to remember too clearly.