gracious, grateful Grigovia

The time is upon us, the crops they are ripe, we Banoyend do give to Thankfulness hype. The larders are brimming, the silos are full, we're sitting on mountains of roots hemp and wool. The evenings come sooner, the days they grow short, come share of our bounty and fresh apple torte. The communes breathe easy, the comrades they rest, at least until month's end, 'till Thank-and-Praise-Fesst. Get ready for dancing, for games and much cheer, we're known for our fessting, by its light we steer. Our customs are rooted, in habits long true, we keep them unaltered, like a favorite shoe. Our mountains are craggy, our homes they are warm, so come by your lonesome, or in a great swarm. We welcome all peoples, regardless of race – or hairstyle, fashion sense, timing, or taste. Our buses are shiny, our planes are brand-new, we've tunnels aplenty, and fine hostels, too. So pack some stout britches and your biggest smile, our arms are wide open – come stay for a while.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥gracious, grateful Grigovia

on fearless Banoyend

Sometimes they come as single briefs, and other-times in bundled sheafs, but mostly they – surprise! – arrive in urgent blinking emails, these screams and cries that all ask please, What is the fearless Banoyend? and, Where does it reside? The author hopes these simple words will banish fears and calm some nerves: the Banoyend it is all things, through all of time and everywhere! Each beast and live being, energy and might, each footstool and fungus, galaxy and host, all persons and planets, both thought and xenon – Banoyend is all things both here and beyond. It's what drives all forces, and puzzles all minds, most pregnant of silences, things left behind; it is intuition, and bravery bold, it is stunning beauty, and death's grip ice-cold. Some Western cultures call it god, some Eastern name it prana, but people of Grigovia do call their ken the Banoyend. But why a name so strange and wrong for something that's been here for so long? Banoyend, the useful noun, has roots both in Greek and Grigovian. Ban stems from pan, Greek for all, everything; and yend stems from yendt (or yinnd, yennt), Grigovian for thing, person, or beast. So there it stands, for once and all, pray let the queries come to end, dare drink it in, with soul enthralled, this mighty, quiet Banoyend.

mentiri factorem fecit – 場黑麥