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Leanan-Sidhe

Artists, beware. The Leanan-Sidhe is one amazing hot Faerie lover who loves artsy types. Seriously, artsy guys make her cream herself. She will inspire you to create the best works of your lives and she wants only to love you boys long time.

Yes, i know. It seems like a good idea at the time. But trust me, don't tap that.

Alas, she cannot love you long time. Because she will burn your wimpy little ass out in no time. If she doesn’t burn you out, then you’ll become so lovesick with longing you’ll basically drink or drug your own sorry self to death. Not to mention the moping. For the love of Pete, does the world really need another mopey artist?

Artists die young. We all know that. But why? Folks, the Gaelic have known why for millenium. Fucking faeries, that’s why. Specifically the Faerie Mistress, or Leanan Sidhe (lanawn shee).

She’s like Nancy (of Sid and Nancy) Courtney Love and Yoko Ono on steroids. And hotter. WAY hotter. She is the most awesome thing you’ll ever know, and you will never survive it.

Some say she’s like a vampire, but that’s not true. She doesn’t want to kill you, you’re just too weak to handle her. She a fucking FAERIE for fuck’s sake. You think falling for Tinkerbell is all cutesiness, but Tinkerbell will burn through you like a party of 7 year olds let loose on the birthday cake. She really doesn’t want you be such a pussy, she wants you to stay with her, but you suck. So now she’s sad and lonely again and has to find another artsy dude to seduce.

The whole “Leana-Sidhe are bloodsuck vampire bitches” was propagated by Yeats, and admittedly, he did had a justifiable bone to pick with her/them. His buddies died young because they fell for her and couldn’t handle her. No one can. His buddy Keats, dead at 25. Poet Percy Bysshe Shelley dead one month shy of his 20th birthday. I mean damn. That’s cold.

Yeats: “for theLianhaun shee lives upon the vitals of its chosen, and they waste and die. She is of the dreadful solitary fairies. To her have belonged the greatest of the Irish poets, from Oisin down to the last century.”

Well, let’s be honest, poetic types and musicians die young. Shit, even in these modern times we all know the 29 rule. If you’re a musician, fucking COOL it during year 29. Seriously, do drugs, party, go crazy at 28 and 30, but for your 29th year, man, go fucking straight edge vegan. If you can make it through 29, you’ll be okay.

Writers: you’re not so lucky, most of you die in your 30s. She likes her writers a little older.

The Leanan-Sidhe like em all, but the young ones are the most susceptible. Yeats made it to 73 because he never let the bitch in the door. Life tip: You got a potential Faerie problem, hang some mother fucking iron all over the place. Faeries HATE iron. It hurts the shit out of them. (One can rumintae about the ancient Celts coming up with this mythology as they used their iron age technology to pound the shit out non iron weapon wielding  enemies, like the Tuatha Dé Danann). When the Leanan-Sidhe tried to seduce Yeats he put his dick in an iron condom and that was that. She never bothered him again.

Iron, see? Iron fucks them up.

A writer gets all drepressed and kills himself or drinks himself to death? Fuckng Leanan-Sidhe. Seriously, i was going to hunt that bitch down after David Foster Wallce killed himself, because don’t think i don’t know what was going on. Unfortunately, i’m a musician and i’ve caught her staring at me through the window more than once. No, i can’t do it. I’d be her bitch before she even got finished blowing in my ear.

A banker needs to kill her. Some wall street guy.

Anyway, you’ve been warned. Rehab does not work, because drugs are not the problem. They’re a SYMPTOM. Duh. A symptom… of FUCKING FAERIES. Literally.

 
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Posted by on August 20, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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Bean-Sidhe (Banshee)

When someone dies, the Gaelic women wail a vocal lament. It’s called keening and it is singing, wailing and mournful. Sometimes a faerie woman will keen for a human, originally out of attachment to a particular family. Being a faerie, she’ll just start early. Like soon before they actually die. She is a Bean-Sidhe, a wailing woman of the Faerie Mounds.

Originally, the Bean-Sidhe is not a creature unto herself. She is just a Sidhe, a faerie, and in the most ancient days of Sidhe lore, would be certain faeries attached to a certain house and family. As we recall from yesterday, the Sidhe (Shee) started out as ancestral spirits and later evolved through story into a race in their own rights.

As said, when a Gaelic soul would die, there would be keening, and certain women with great voices would be much in demand to keen at the wake. Great families would have their own special keeners, but five of the greatest Gaelic house, the O’Neills, the O’Briens, the O’Connors, the O’gradys and the Kavanaghs, had there own Faerie keeners. This Faerie keener, being all supernatural and everything, would begin keening shortly before the actual death, her wail also helping to guide the newly dead into the Otherworld.

Attached to the family (because originally she herself was a dead family ancestor) proximity was unimportant. If a family member was far away and died (or about to i assume) she would begin her keen no matter the distance and was often the first alarm that someone far off had died.

This is where the Bean-Sidhe came from. As these great families intermarried and outermarried the faeries presiding over their Houses multiplied and the Bean-Sidhe diversified.

She usually wears a green dress with a grey cloak. Her eyes are blood red from crying. She stands outside a house, usually near the woods. She has a silver comb she sometimes draw through her hair which relates to the tradition of tearing out ones hair in grief. This comb also appears in Gaelic mermaid myths. If you ever see a silver comb lying in the woods or near the sea, DON’T pick the damn thing up. If you do, they’ll come for you.

However, unlike mermaids, Bean-Sidhe are benign. They have a sister, the Lianhan Sidhe however who is not. The Lainhan Sidhe desires the love of mortal men, but if they fall for her they’re screwed. Their desire for her will consume  and destroy them. She will never bed them in this world, so they must come the Otherworld to have her. So you gotta die just to tap that ass. Not cool.

Numerous Bean-Sidhe wail when it is the death of some really important and it’s said the O’Brien family had a Bean-Sidhe named Eevul who had an entourage of 25 other Bean-Sidhe so you can imagine the cacophony if an O’Brien died.

There is a specific type of Bean-Sidhe called the Bananach, who only hang out around battlefields. Sometimes the Bean-Sidhe will appear as an old woman washing bloody garments.

The Bean-Sidhe has counterparts in both Scotland and Wales, although in Scotrland theirs is a Bean-Nighe,a and in Walesit’s is a Cyhyraeth, and moans instead of wailing.

 
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Posted by on August 18, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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