The Bacchanal

Long ago, when we all lived in the forest and no one lived anywhere else, Saint Dog got a Facebook invite to a great bacchanal and meeting…

The Bacchanal

Long ago, when we all lived in the forest and no one lived anywhere else, Saint Dog got a Facebook invite to a great bacchanal and meeting of the Discordian cabals. Because the person who sent the invite was an asshole, Saint Dog did not attend, and by the time he found out what had happened there, the entire event had already descended into myth.

The way he heard it (from a friend of a friend) was this: since all the cabals had been separate (Discordians tending to stick apart) and the mead and acid and vodka were flowing, nobody realized that The Goddess walked among them. In their joy, they forgot that The Goddess could be cruel, and in their rages, they forgot that The Goddess could be kind. Their tongues were loosened and their anuses were tightened, and the uppers made them rant while the downers made them know not what they said. And so, in praising The Goddess they simplified Her down to a nub. They began to argue among themselves about how to define The Erisian, and She made their limbs clumsy.

As they took their milk and honey from the stones and the streams, they forgot to recognize The Goddess in all things, and She made them collide, covet each others’ lovers, insult each others’ graphic tees.

Soon, they had been suffused with Her cruelest mocking laughter and had forgotten her gentle ribbing, and someone had a knife. Someone else had a pair of scissors, and someone had a lighter, and soon the forest floor was bloody and the state of California was on fire again.

Saint Dog was glad to hear this story, and considered it a blessing, because it taught him an important lesson: Facebook is not a good place to meet discordians, or assholes.