Many
generations ago, there lived a man whose mother was a virgin. He
suffered trials and tribulations; he was sacrificed in a horrible
fashion; he died and was buried; and after three days of being dead,
legend says that he rose back to life. His contemporaries looked upon
him as the son of god, and some even saw him as god. This man's name was
Osiris,
and his story was told, in Egypt and across the Mediterranean,
hundreds of years before common error.
On
this beautiful spring day, I should like to encourage the reader to
think about those things which are not often thought about, to seek
truth in all matters, and to sing with me the praises of Oestre,
the voluptuous fertility goddess from whom Easter gets its name (and
its randy bunnies and bursting flowers). May your body be fertile,
and your partner willing.
場黑麥
ioanni
elymucampus fecit
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