Day 1 of Human Anatomy & Dissection

I got to wear a non-ironic lab coat and participate in wiping down a cadaver. We start dissecting his leg next Wednesday.

And a good morning to you too.

There are various things during this lab that I noticed.

  • Even though we all were acutely aware of his privates, no one wanted to be seen jumping to wipe down the cadaver’s butt and junk.
  • Pedicures survive death, embalming, and dissection.
  • I’ve been put right off Walmart’s rotisserie chicken. The resemblance is uncanny.

Heathen Songs

I’ve been finishing a seasonal pastiche in honor of Yule and remembered two filks I wrote several years ago. I’d posted them to Odin’s Gift, but sadly, it seems that site is no longer being updated. Everyone says that the internet is forever, but that’s only true so long as the people involved maintain the resources necessary. Otherwise, it all evaporates into a fine mist of ones and zeroes.

With that in mind, I thought I’d repost my filks here so that I can be responsible for their upkeep. As my friend from grad school, the poet Drew Cook once aptly stated, “No one cares as much about your writing as you.”

These filks are intended for a Heathen (Ásatrúar) audience, most of whom are converts from some form of Christianity. While we no longer celebrate Christmas, we grew up with these songs, and many Heathens still enjoy the tunes. They evoke positive, festive emotions. They tie us to memories of family and/or community, of season and celebration, regardless of the words. That said, many of us still want to sing the songs, but may not be able to get past the lyrics. Given the historical precedent of musician writing totally new lyrics to already extant songs then… and the precedent of the Church stealing, before rewriting the scripts for various pagan holidays… it seems completely appropriate to Heathenize the lyrics to these Christian songs and steal them back.

Feel free to share along with author information.


Carol of the Drum (Little Drummer Boy)
original, Katherine Kennicott Davis © 1941
filk, A. É. Coleman © 2005

Come, she told me
Pa rum pum pum pum
His slain he wants to see
Pa rum pum pum pum
Take your weapons with you
Pa rum pum pum pum
And bring your courage too
Pa rum pum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum

So to fight for him
Pa rum pum pum pum
When you come

Oh Valfather
Pa rum pum pum pum
I just kept marching time
Pa rum pum pum pum

I have no arms to bear
Pa rum pum pum pum
I’ve no armor to wear
Pa rum pum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum

Shall I play for you
Pa rum pum pum pum
On my drum?

Odin nodded
Pa rum pum pum pum
The einherjar marched time
Pa rum pum pum pum
I played my drum for him
Pa rum pum pum pum
I played my best for him
Pa rum pum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum

Then he smiled at me
Pa rum pum pum pum
Me and my drum

chorus


O Come, All Ye Faithful
original, disputed authorship
filk, A. É. Coleman © 2005

O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant,
O come, ye, to reclaim the ways of our folk.
Come and behold the old ways alive once more.

chorus
O come, we shall reclaim them!
O come, we shall reclaim them!
O come, we shall heed the call of our gods!

Sing, all loyal Heathens, sing in exultation,
Sing, all ye citizens of Midgard’s realm:
Glory to the gods that made us, glory!

chorus

Dudelsack

Apparently, one of my poems got published, and I was wholly unaware. The Accent is our on-campus, student publication. This last year, they decided to open up publication to faculty out of appreciation during covid. I submitted some of my work, then never heard anything back. Or so I thought. An email did go out, announcing the publication, but it got buried in my inbox. I only just discovered it in the midst of spring cleaning, and it was a pleasant surprise.

I recommend giving it a look. The artwork is impressive, and it was fun for me to revisit some of the student writing. My poems “Dudelsack” and “Glad of War in Spring” were published along with work by my colleagues. Neat!

The Accent, Spring 2021

Glad of War in Spring

A cock perched between the eyes of an eagle
crows as the Sky Traveler buries his speech

between Freya’s thighs. He grips her hips.
She grips his wrists as forked red hair

moves like wildfire, devouring that amber
patch of Folkvang between a pair of pale cliffs.

Behind her, hair spreads across the bed
in tangled honey veins of sap that rise

with the spring up through the long trunk
of Yggdrasil. In its wood hides the shape

of First Man, back strong and arms lifted
in branches that reach for the sun’s blazing

wheel while sweat-stained leaves tremble
in the winds of heavy breathing.

Woodland sunflowers bud and bloom
at the base in a merry frenzy of dew damp

yellows while beneath them Earth wraps
around the World Tree’s thighs as it plunges

three roots deep into Creation, Wisdom
and Hel. Grey-hooded Norns dance

with albescent arms bare as they shuttle
the diaphanous weft of each man’s wyrð

ever forward, ever deeper, unstopping
into that still masked darkness beyond

all objection, fear, and bargain, ruthlessly
following the weighted warp of what may yet be.

A. É. Coleman, 2021


Watch the video to hear the poem read by the author.

Creative Commons Licence
Glad of War in Spring by A. É. Coleman is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Teaching Freshmen

While this blog is primarily focused on Heathenry and writing, and while I should be prepping for class tomorrow, I needed to take a step back for a moment to decompress and not hurl my phone and/or textbook out the window.

To summarize since my last post, I did get an adjunct instructor position at a lovely little university in Oklahoma.  Since academia is a small enough world, I’ll establish the practice now of refraining from naming names, even though I have nothing negative to say about where I’m currently working.  Instead, I’ll talk about a few of the things I’ve learned and encountered in my first year of “real” (not as a grad assistant) teaching.

First, there are no perfect textbooks in the world.  Perhaps I should write the textbook that I want to see in the world.  Perhaps one day.  But for today, I will only state that there are no textbooks in the world that will not eventually lead to you wanting to rip the pages out, stuff it down the garbage disposal, and/or track the author(s) down to beat them with their own creation.

Secondly, everyone needs to set time limits on when they will look at their email.  That’s particularly difficult for me since I’m prone to insomnia and inclined to check email whenever I’m up.  But, I’ve learned, that leads to never feeling as though I’m fully “off the clock” and free to do other things for a while.  When that happens, I find myself getting stressed every time I receive another email.  Because they never stop.  The students, particularly Freshmen, email at all hours.  They’re up at 2 a.m., so that’s when they write to ask for you tell them what you said in class (a class they were there for, quite possibly playing on their phone instead of taking notes).  While it’s not difficult to simply write a quick response, that will be just one e-mail of many and for each class.  When I found myself exploding into a mild fit of cussing at the fifth email from the same particular student, I made myself step away from the computer for a moment.

I thought about why I’d suddenly gotten so angry, looked at the clock, considered the situation, and realized that I was letting these two or three students dominate my evening.  Even though I hate to be harsh, a bit of Navy wisdom came back to me.

“Piss poor planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine.”

It was after 11 p.m. at night.  I had my own life to attend.  I would email the student in the morning…when it could be argued that I was getting paid for my work.

Post-MFA Disarray

Let’s just put it this way:  it’s 3:56 a.m. and I’m drinking a pint of Chimay while looking at teaching jobs in Hope, Arkansas.

All in all, it could be worse.  I could be drinking paint thinner, aftershave, or Miller High Life.  I could be wholly unemployed, bereft of a support network, not having the Veteran Affairs for medication, and/or a person of color guilty of existing in the US.  I’m aware that I’m fortunate, and yes, things could always be worse.

Still, all that aside, finding one’s self almost wholly without structure after the mad pace of grad school leads many to a state of disarray.  In the space of two weeks, I’ve found myself unable to sleep, staying up until 8 a.m., having bizarre dreams when I do, feeling like crap, and in a mentally in a fairly dark place.  Again, I’m fortunate in that I have the mental health services of the VA to turn to and my own abilities as a writer to deal with my frustration.  Yet, I’m at a loss without structure.

My former classmate, Rachel Hoge would be an excellent person to give advice to future MFA students on how to proceed through the next three years.  She graduated early to step into a fantastic position as Production Editor of Post Hill Press.  Rachel is and always has been a rock star, and I point to her as an example to the determined among us.

Conversely, I am here to hold down the bar with the rest of the writers.

What do The Rest of Us do?

What do those of us do who are not as excited to teach as we once thought?  What do the rest of us do who want time for our own writing?  What do the rest of us do to get some sleep and stop staying up until 8 in the morning?

Intellectually, I know the answer.  Degrees of success in accomplishing them may vary with personal fortitude, determination, and interest.

  1. Make (and keep) a schedule.  Set a time to write.  Set a time to sleep.  Set a time to apply for whatever job interests you.
  2. Regarding applications, take your time and polish the fuckers.  One well polished application is worth ten half-assed, Click-to-Submit applications.
  3. Maintain your social life and connections.  If you’re anything like me, you want to focus all your energy on a single target and hunt it into extinction.  While this is appropriate to certain tasks, it is not an advantageous attitude toward The Job Hunt.  This is the long hunt.  You have no idea when a connection will pay off, so don’t forget to maintain your own needs as a social animal.
  4. If you are a religious person, or at least need the structure of religion, re-dedicate yourself to your faith and your community.  You’re not just a writer.  You’re a person beyond the pen you hold.  Let yourself breathe.
  5. Exercise and don’t stay up until 8 a.m. drinking.  Need I say more?  Let the writers at the bar tell you, from personal experience, you’ll feel like crap if you treat yourself like crap.  Get some sun.  Eat some fruits and vegetables.  Walk around some.  (Pub crawls don’t count.)

Heathen virtues

June 28th, 2003 marked the day of my “official” conversion to Heathenism (née Ásatrú).  Why I can recount such a specific date is a story unto itself and one I’ll delve into in another post.  For the purposes of this post though, suffice to say, I have been a Heathen a relatively long time now.  Longer in fact than my time spent calling myself a Christian, but again, that’s another story.

In short, one of the things that initially drew me to Heathenism was the ethos and world view.  I’m not naturally someone who is particularly sensitive or attuned to otherworldly things.  While I love reading mythology, folklore, and stories of the supernatural, in practice, I’m a fairly empirical, science and reason-based sort of person.  Based on my understanding of terms and conversations with professors of philosophy, I’m something of an agnostic in the traditional sense according to Thomas Huxley:  “It simply means that a man shall not say he knows or believes that which he has no scientific grounds for professing to know or believe.”

(Yes, I know it’s a Wikipedia link.  I’ve read further, but this will give you a decent starting point from which to do your own reading, if you haven’t done it already.)

I could certainly accept the existence of the divine, given the appropriate level of evidence.  What would constitute an appropriate, convincing level of evidence?  I’ve given that a lot of thought, but have yet to determine the criteria.  Should I figure it out though, I will definitely post about it.

Ergo, since I’ve yet to encounter convincing evidence for the divine, have yet to encounter or determine any logical necessity for its existence, and finally, feel very little on an anecdotal, spiritual level, I’m not holding out much hope for such a thing.  Nothing is impossible, only highly improbable.  God/s included.

That was the abridged set up for the following statement:  as an agnostic, I was initially, primarily attracted to the world views and ethos which Heathenism presented.  Those were what of the most importance and value to me.  The divine is unknown and uncertain.  All that is known and certain — on a good day! — are our deeds in this world.

As stated earlier though, I’ve been a Heathen/Ásatrúar for a reasonably long time now, and my initial understanding of Heathen values and virtues has deepened, matured, and grown less certain.  In the words of Oscar Wilde, “I’m not young enough to know everything.”  Heathenry, in all its names and incarnations, also continues to evolve, fracture, mature, and devolve.  When I initially converted in the early 2000s, it was nearly expected that you should be able to recite the 9 Noble Virtues and the prayer from The 13th Warrior.  (I’m only half joking.)  And as someone who converted during his time serving in the military, that ethos was completely appropriate and fitting to my environment and mindset.

download

Fifteen years later though, as a civilian and an academic, I find myself searching for something more robust and appropriate to this new world and point in my life.  There is certainly nothing wrong with the 9 Noble Virtues as I’ve seen them listed, but they are sparse on their own.  Also, I’ve reached a place where godfolk, chieftains, and the guidance of others does not satisfy everything I need.  It has been stated that the tribe is the smallest unit of Heathen society, and while that is quite possibly true, the individual that lacks, and can not find what is needed from the tribe, that individual has an obligation to fare forth and seek out that which he or she lacks.  Without that which is lacked, the individual can not properly benefit the tribe.

Thus, I start here.  This blog seems as good a place as any.

I have no interest or expectation to change minds or affect Heathen thought.  If Heathens happen upon this blog and benefit from it, fantastic, but the point of these posts will simply be to straighten out my own thinking.  I welcome input, but feel under no obligation to humor trolls.  If you want to post your thoughts, start your own blog.

That being said, this may have come from a Christian theologian, but it resonates with me, and I see nothing about it beyond the name of the deity which is incompatible with Heathenry:

“If you have men who will exclude any of God’s creatures from the shelter of compassion and pity, you will have men who will deal likewise with their fellow men.” — Francis of Assisi

In my opinion, this could be slightly reworded and fit into the list of warnings from the Hávamál.  In short, Don’t trust a man who kicks his dog, for he will kick you when he’s able and it suits him.  There is certainly more to the statement which could be addressed, but I will start here and build from this.

 

Today is the first day…

Today is my first day post grad school, my first day (almost) completely free in three years.  There’s still grading to complete and a few project to turn over the notes to, but there are no assignments or classes to consider.  By this time tomorrow, all the grades will be posted and all my major commitments to the University of Central Arkansas will be at an end.

There’s a sense of relief of having made it, mourning that it’s over, confusion at not having all these things bearing down on me.  To be completely honest, if I didn’t have my mammoth list of Things To Do, I would be at a complete loss and probably far more upset.

Here begins the job hunt all over again, only this time I’m at a much more defined crossroad than I was with my Bachelor’s.  I do in fact have a job already, thankfully.  I’m working part time at Staples and could easily apply for a much higher paying, permanent job with all sorts of benefits.  I could request a transfer to one of our offices in Europe.  There are a host of openings in Germany and the Netherlands.  That would certainly get me into the country and established if I wanted to pursue further education.

Or I could continue further into academia.  I could apply for teaching positions or jobs in a writing center.  Whatever I do, I want to get my TEFL certification so that I can teach abroad.  Most of the Asian countries don’t have strict requirements for certification, but most European countries certainly do.

One of the central questions on my mind is that of writing.  What will give me time to write?  Let alone live and take care of myself.  Teaching takes so much time, especially if you teach English and/or Writing.  On top of all the other duties of teaching, there’s so much reading involved.

Where do I go?  What do I do?  What do I want to do?  What would be satisfying?  These are such first world problems.  I can’t, in good conscience, get too hung up about any of it.  As I said, today is the first day.  We’ll see where tomorrow takes us.