sibling rivalry
I am Wednesday, full of woe. My brother Sunday’s all bonny and blithe, good and gay. He calls me “Emo;” I call him “Pollyanna.” I used to be Woden’s Day, honoring Odin, the Norse god seeking wisdom. Then Judas decides to betray Jesus on a Wednesday. Now my claim to fame is hump day and coupon flyers in your mailbox. Sunday, smugly home from church, eats his chicken dinner and watches college football.
Sure, crucifixion, resurrection. I mean, my namesake lost an eye, threw himself on his spear, and hung on the Tree of Life for nine days and nine nights, all to gain knowledge and understanding. He cured the sick, calmed storms, just like Jesus, I’d like to point out. Jesus was god, Odin was god. The One-Eyed All-Father, an impressive title. Jesus has a kingdom; Odin has a kingdom hall, too – ever heard of a little place called Valhalla?
Angels or Valkyries, the faithful return, whether saints or warriors. So what is the deal? Why does Sunday get EVERYTHING and I can’t catch a break? Home-cooked fried chicken every week versus $2 Whopper Wednesdays. Come on.
Woe. Oy vey. Which in fact is part of the problem here – all these “woe” words are natural exclamations of lament by humans around the world: Old English wǣ; Middle English wo, wei, wa; Dutch wee, German weh, Danish ve, Yiddish vey. Bosnian jao, said, “yow.” Portugese ai, said, “aye,” as in aye-yi-yi.
Wednesday, Kuan Yin, Avalokiteshvara. I’m tired of being “She Who Hears the Cries of the World.” I feel like I need to update my image, rebrand, quit reliving the glory days of Odin’s quest for wisdom. The serpent Jormungandr is shaking the world now; Yggdrasil is groaning heavily in the uproar. We seem to be approaching a burning, drowning, come-to-Jesus moment for the Earth.
I’m not going to bring it up, though. I don’t want to give Sunday the satisfaction.
Think I’ll go with the tagline “fee, fi, fo, fum.” That’s Shakespeare, from King Lear. True, it was said by a double-crossed royal prince framed for murdering his father the king now hiding out pretending to be a village madman. But that’s way different than “woe,” right?
Fee, fi, fo, fum. Giant’s Day. Shorten it to Ginday. Card games, chilled drinks, a PROFESSIONAL football team. The living is easy, here at the end of the world.
So much cooler than Sunday.