the bird on fire

The Bird is the Word: Sophisticated Schoolyard Shenanigans

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Mythological Misunderstandings

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Graphic by Harlow Berny

By Harlow Berny

I. Love. Fairy tales. If it has magic(k), mythical creatures, or an interesting and emotionally deep plot, then chances are that I’ll like it. But the thing that sets me off the most is when there’s a misunderstanding of something important about the magic(k) or mythical creature involved in the story. Here are some of the mistakes that upset me the most.

Types of Magic(k). There are two main types: magic (simple things like pulling a rabbit out of a hat and someone using cards for a reading) and magick (occult magick such as divination and summoning a demon). The two main types of magic are not black magic and white magic. The terms black magic and white magic can be construed as racist terms made to separate the “evil, impure, and barbaric” African magic from the “good, pure, and refined” European magic. These insensitive terms are often used by people who are new to the community and mean well or people who are just using magic(k) for show/money.

Occult vs. Cult. These words do look very similar, but they certainly do not mean the same thing. Occult simply refers to anything that can’t be explained by science, while cult refers to a group that worships a particular being or object. It can be confusing to people who haven’t been told the difference, and thus has caused misrepresentation of both subjects. One example would be the game Yandere Simulator (Warning: This game would likely be rated M for Mature by the ESRB–Entertainment Software Raters Board–if it wasn’t still in development) which has an Occult Club that the player can join. When you join the club, however, you participate in cult activities such as demon summoning and sacrifice.

Satyr vs. Faun. What does a satyr have to do with a female deer? Nothing. What you’re thinking of is a fawn. A faun is a creature from Roman mythology that can be male or female and has goat legs, horns, ears, and tail with a human torso, head, arms, and hands. They typically play pan flutes, drink wine, and have an affinity for romance. Sounds familiar? That’s because many people use the word “satyr” for creatures like that, when a satyr is really a different creature from Greek mythology. A satyr is a middle-aged (or older) man with a long beard, pointed ears, a donkey tail, and a goat or enlarged human phallus that is permanently erect. They are almost always ugly and drunk, have extreme lust for women, and play a pipe flute. These creatures are from different cultures and are quite certainly different species.

Chimera vs. Manticore. For the last misunderstanding, we have two mythical creatures that I don’t see very often. A manticore comes from Persian mythology and has a lion body, human head or face, and a scorpion tail. Sometimes a manticore has poisonous spikes on a lion tail, and some modern depictions give it large bat wings. A chimera is from Greek mythology and is a female creature with a lion head, goat body, and serpent tail. Some modern depictions call any monster that is a combination of multiple animals a chimera.

Editor: Makena Behnke

Stories About Snakes–Fairy Tale Re-Telling

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Graphic by Harlow Berny

Retold By Harlow Berny

Storyteller Berny unearths Grimm’s tales about children and snakes. As we move from one to another, Berny reminds us, “None of these stories are related other than the fact that they contain children and snakes.” Enjoy the combination.

I.

Centuries ago, in a long forgotten kingdom, there was a little girl whose mother would give her a small bowl of milk and bread. Every day the child would eat in the yard on a small stump. When she would eat, a snake would creep out a crack in the wall, dip its head in the dish, and eat along with her. The child took joy in having a friend to eat with, and so, when the snake did not come out one day, she softly spoke,

“Snake, oh snake, quickly

come forth, you tiny critter,

you shall eat your bread crumbs,

you shall drink your milk.”

When the snake heard these words, it rushed forth to enjoy its meal. To show its gratitude to the child, the snake gave her some of its hidden treasures, such as shining gems, captivating pearls, and glistening golden jewelry. Following this event, however, the snake only drank the milk, never touching the breadcrumbs. After a few days of this, the little girl tapped the snake on its head with her spoon, saying, “Eat the bread crumbs as well, tiny critter.” The mother, who was in the kitchen, heard the child speaking, looked out the window, and was horrified to see a snake right next to her daughter. She ran out with the knife she was using to cut vegetables, and she killed the peaceful snake.

From that day forth, the little girl changed. When the snake ate with her, she grew tall, strong, and beautiful, but now she withered–her cheeks went pale, and her hair fell out. It was not long before the doves cried and the robins collected little branches for a funeral wreath as the child lay in her coffin.

 

II.

A young orphan girl was sitting under a tree when she suddenly spotted a snake slithering out of a hole in the ground. She quickly laid her blue silk handkerchief beside her, as she was always told that snakes loved blue handkerchiefs so much they’d ignore nearby humans, even resting on the handkerchief as humans walked by. This snake, however, went straight back into the hole in the ground upon seeing it, only to return with a small golden crown. The snake placed the crown on the handkerchief before rushing to the hole once more. The girl, amazed with what she was seeing, picked up the glittering crown and her handkerchief, placed the crown atop her head and the handkerchief in her pocket. She skipped her way to the orphanage to show all her friends what she had found. The snake came out again, and, upon seeing that the crown and handkerchief both were missing, bashed its head into the wall over and over again, only stopping when its body went limp and bloody, never to move again. If the girl had left the crown and waited a while longer, surely the snake would have brought more treasures out of the hole.

 

III.

A snake laughed, “Hehehe.”

A child heard the snake and went to question it, “Little snake, have you seen my little sister? She wears little stockings upon her legs.”

“No, I have not,” answered the snake. “Have you seen little red stockings? Hehe, hehe, hehe.”

The child never said the sister’s stockings were red.

 

Editor: Renée Vazquez

A Re-Telling of Grimm’s

The Rose–A Fairy Tale Re-Telling

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Graphic by Harlow Berny

Retold by Harlow Berny

 

Centuries ago, in a long forgotten kingdom, there was a poor and widowed peasant woman with two young children — but only one was still alive. The young son had died before his little sister was old enough to remember him. With no man in the house, the mother worked as a seamstress while her daughter, once she reached six years of age, went to work chopping logs to sell.

One winter morning, the daughter was about to head home with seven logs, when she realized that they were too heavy for her. As she was leaving with only three logs, a well-groomed boy, seemingly no older than her, appeared before her and offered to help carry the other four. The girl happily accepted his help and called her mother to meet the boy when they arrived at her home. The mother came out as her daughter called, but she only found her daughter waiting for her, no boy. The mother assumed that the daughter was talking of an imaginary friend and went back to sewing.

The next day, the daughter came home with a flower bud that the boy had given her, saying that the boy would return once the flower bloomed. The mother laughed and placed the bud in a cup of water, thinking nothing of it. A week passed. One morning, the daughter did not leave her bed. The mother, concerned, went to the daughter’s room to wake her. When the mother pulled the covers off of her daughter’s bed, she found the daughter was cold as stone, yet bearing a warm smile. That same morning, the flower bud bloomed into a crimson rose, and the water turned to blood and overflowed from the cup, like how the blood of the son had flowed from his head when he fell on his axe while chopping logs for his mother.

 

Editor: Shelby Armor

A Re-Telling of Grimm’s

The Monster Under Your Bed

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Graphic by Harlow Berny

By Harlow Berny

 

When you were a child, you would make your parents check underneath your bed after they had tucked you in at night. This is because you thought that the gentle glow of your night-light was not strong enough to reach underneath, and thus monsters would take refuge there. When you grew up, you threw out your night-light to sleep in the dark, for you no longer believed that monsters hid under your bed. The thing is, those monsters exist no matter if you believe or not. The only difference is that once you do not believe in them, you can no longer see them. You cannot see them crawling out from under your bed. You cannot see them peering at you from the foot of your bed. You cannot see them staring you in the eyes. You cannot see them slipping into your mind, replacing your childhood innocence and youth with stress, sorrow, fear, and regret. You cannot see that the monster under your bed has become the monster in your head….

 

Editor: Peter Kadel

A Fairy Tale Must Be Repeated At Least Once In Order To Be Comprehended

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By Shelby Armor

 

My grandmother once told me

of painted skies and

a blank sheet of paper

with nothing on it but ideas for the future

 

The paper, hidden in a shed,

buried in an Arabian desert

 

held the concepts of happiness,

the concepts of joy for all

 

This paper, where it waited to be found,

spelled out a future of good fortune and happiness

 

That’s what my grandmother had said,

but I, being the curious child I was,

challenged these ideas and yearned for more,

 

I yearned for more to that story,

I yearned to understand this fairy tale,

I yearned to be older so I could see,

 

See the top shelf,

live in a world where I would tell the fairy tales.

 

It would never come, I thought to myself

“Too long” I said to my grandmother

when she asked me how school was,

and then I blinked

 

I could see the top shelf

I had children of my own to read to every night,

but my grandmother wasn’t here to see

 

when would those days come back,

the days of exploring outside

and playing pretend with my friends?

 

But they wouldn’t come back,

I had wasted my innocent days

thinking of things beyond my years,

waiting to grow up,

and doubting fairy tales

 

Editor: Makena Behnke

Miss American Dream

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By Poet Blogger Peter Kadel

 

She’s it! She’s it! She’s the one!

She is gonna be my one and only.

We’ll share a kiss in hallways between classes,

Milkshakes at diners, and midnight movies.

She’s Miss American Dream.

Right now, I’m nobody, but, one day, I’ll be her knight in shining armour–

Her love story cliché, the boy, the boyfriend.

One step at a time, and then she is mine.

She’s Miss American Dream.

She just needs some convincing; she’ll see I’m right.

Those other guys may be taller, and smoother, and stronger–

But I’m the chosen one, like Anakin without the dark side.

I’ll be the bearer of the one ring to woo them all–

Just not as nerdy as that sounds.

She’s Miss American Dream.

She didn’t break my heart–I’m NOT crying!

It’s fine–she didn’t slap me that hard.

I’ll move on, as soon as I learn how.

Who needs Miss American Dream?

 

Editor: Brennan Nick

The Willful Child–A Fairy Tale Re-Telling

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Graphic also by Harlow Berny

Retold by Harlow Berny

Centuries ago, in a long forgotten kingdom, there was a willful daughter of a single peasant woman. She refused to do even the simplest things that her mother told her, no matter if it was something that the girl liked to do or would keep the child healthy and safe. For this reason, the girl went and ran through the house of an old man who had recently died, and she contracted some horrid illness that had killed him. No doctor could heal the child as she fell into her death-bed. Soon the peasant’s daughter was lain in a coffinless grave and was covered in dirt, until suddenly her arm burst through the ground and stood tall, grasping for the sunlight. When a mound of new dirt was placed over the arm, the arm pushed it away, time after time again. Eventually, the girl’s mother was brought and made to strike the hand down with a rod. Upon doing so the hand shot back into the ground and the daughter’s soul finally left her long-dead body. While we know that the little girl’s soul abandoned her body, we do not know if the soul flew to the gates of heaven for the fact that she was but a child, or sank to the gates of hell for never obeying her mother and causing her own death in her careless actions…

 

Editor: Brennan Nick

A Re-Telling of Grimm’s

The Shroud–A Fairy Tale Re-Telling

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Graphic design also by Harlow Berny

Retold by Harlow Berny

Centuries ago, in a long forgotten kingdom, there was a simple mother who had a child of seven years of age who was so handsome and lovable that whomever crossed his path and saw him would immediately have a smile upon their face. His mother had cherished him above all else in her life. It just so happens that this child became sick with a common cold; God had decided to bring the child to himself, and the mother could not contain her grief and wept both day and night. Soon after the funeral, however, an apparition of the child would appear at night in places that the child had been when he was alive. Whenever the mother wept, the ghost would weep as well, and he would disappear when the sun rose. The mother still wept day and night, but on one of those nights, the ghost appeared in the white shroud he was buried in with a wreath of flowers on his head. He walked to the foot of his mother’s bed and said to her, “Mommy, please don’t cry for me at night anymore, or I may never rest in my coffin, for my shroud will not dry in the cold, sunless night whilst your tears fall upon it.” When the mother heard this, she immediately choked back her tears and took deep breaths, waiting for the sun to shine until she wept again. The next night, the child came back, this time holding a bright, glowing cloth in his hands. ”Look, Mommy,” said the child, “my shroud is dry, now I can rest and go to heaven!” The mother hugged her child, said one last goodbye, and saw her child’s ghost fade away as the sun shone upon him. She continued to cry in the day, but she cried less knowing that her son was in a brighter, dryer place.

Editor: Reneé Vazquez

 

Re-Telling of Grimm’s

The Singing Bone–A Fairy Tale Re-Telling

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WARNING: As in Grimm’s, the following fairy tale may contain violence; proceed at your own risk.

Graphic design also by Harlow Berny

Retold by Harlow Berny

Centuries ago, in a long forgotten kingdom, there was a horrendous monster that took the shape of a wild boar. It terrorized the fields and livestock of the kingdom before it moved on to tear the humans apart with its blood-stained tusks. The royal family had offered a small reward for any word of the beast, but as it destroyed more and more, and fewer and fewer bounty hunters returned from their attempts to kill it, they raised the reward to entice the people willing to risk the encounter. From the words of the few people who returned, the savage boar had bloody bone where a face would be, and sounds of the countless people it had killed could be heard screaming when it opened its maw, and the stench of brimstone was present whenever it was near. After the rumors spread of the beast’s nature, after the recent passing of the king of the lands, the queen had to raise the reward. She offered her only son to the person–be they man or woman–who presented the boar’s carcass to her.

In this forgotten kingdom, there were two brothers who had decided to try to kill the boar and marry the prince. The older was crafty, shrewd, and full of pride, and only wanted to kill to show his power and to marry the prince to have that power and the wealth that comes with it. The younger was innocent, simple, and pure hearted. He wanted to kill the boar to stop its violence, to avenge those it killed, and to marry the prince so his family might live in comfy quarters. When the brothers declared to the queen that they would be attempting to rid the lands of the foul beast, she gave them this advice:

If you wish to kill the beast, I believe you should take advantage of your partnership and enter the forest from opposite sides to infix the boar between you.

The brothers took the queen’s advice, and the elder entered from the west while the younger took the east. When the younger had walked a short distance into the forest, he was met by a small man, not unlike a troll, who held a black spear in his hands. He told the boy that since his heart was pure and good, he could wield the spear against the boar without risking his life, for the spear would protect his soul from the demon inside the boar’s skin. The brother thanked the troll and went bravely into the depths of the forest, knowing he would survive his encounter with the boar.

Not long after, the younger brother could smell the brimstone and heard the boar breathing like a furnace to his left. Instantly, the brother turned and pointed the spear toward the beast. When the boar ran toward him screaming like thousands of men, it ran straight into the spear and impaled itself on the black point. The boy took the boar on his back and headed west to meet with his older brother.

When the younger brother came out the other side of the forest, he saw a small house filled with the sounds of laughter, dancing, and the smells of alcohol. When he walked in, he could not immediately see his brother, but his brother could see him, along with the boar on his back. The older brother called the younger over and gave him wine while listening to the story of how the boar was slain with the black spear. When the brothers left in the evening, the elder had the younger walk in front of him, and once they were over a bridge of a dry riverbed, the elder grabbed the spear and struck the younger through the heart and pushed him over the railing. The elder’s hand was burned by the spear because of his tainted heart, but all he needed was the boar. He sloppily buried the younger brother under the bridge along with the spear, then took the boar on his back. Once he returned to the queen and convinced her that he slew the beast after it slew his brother, he was married to the prince.

It was only five years later that a shepherd was moving his herd across the old bridge and saw a little bone sticking out of the dirt. He needed a new mouthpiece for his horn, so he whittled it down and put it in. When he blew through the horn, however, he was amazed that it sang of its own accord.

Ah, friend thou blowest upon my bone.

A heart of love was what to be won.

In the ground my brother made me sown,

and took for his husband the queen’s young son.

What a wonderful horn! Thought the shepherd, It sings all on its own! Surely the queen would want to see it. He hurried to her castle and again blew it for her, and she understood it well. She had the grounds dug where the bone was found. A skeleton with a large, black spear was found; and when she confronted her son-in-law, he could not deny his heinous crime. The wicked brother was sewn in a bag and thrown in a lake to drown, while his brother’s skeleton was laid in a large tomb. The red-haired queen placed the spear on top of the tomb with her pure, cleansed, metal hands.

 

Editor: Shelby Armor

The Peasant In Heaven–A Fairy Tale Re-Telling

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Illustration by Harlow Berny

Retold by Harlow Berny

Centuries ago, an old religious man of a long forgotten kingdom died of a poor heart and ascended to the pearly gates in the sky. At the same moment, the king of the lands the old man came from died of old age, despite being younger than the peasant. St. Peter came to the gate and unlocked it, rejoiced to see the king, but was so distracted that he did not see the peasant and closed the gate before the old man could walk through and join his king. The peasant sat down before the gate and waited. As he did so, he heard trumpets, drums, and shouts of glee, no doubt for the king that entered heaven. After an hour or so, he could smell freshly baked breads and ripe fruits and warm pies, and the music became quieted as they celebrated the grand arrival. It was around this time that St. Peter came back to the gates and found the old man, and when the peasant walked to the feast, he half expected the music of the angels as well, but all he heard was the chatter of the people as they ate. There were angels that greeted him and were happy to see him, but there were no songs or music. When the peasant asked why there was singing for the king but not for himself, and if heaven had the same favoritism of wealthy over the poor, St. Peter gave him this response:

“Dear old soul, we love all people the same here, and everyone is able to enjoy the riches of the earth in the kingdom. I ask you to forgive us, for poor souls like yourself come many a time, but souls of the rich only ever come a hundred years or so.”

 

Edited by: Renée Vazquez

Re-telling of Grimm’s