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Polytheist Ramblings: Nisaba
I was going to title this “Finding Sanctuary”, but I think this fits with my little series better.
I talk a lot about other gods, because their influences are many-layered. It’s easy to talk about a goddess of the mountains when you live there, or a god of the furious sun when you’re melting. But how to talk about a goddess you’re sworn to? There’s something about the relationship that just won’t out with words, which is ironic considering.
My Lady Nisaba colored like the stars, whose body is the flecked barley, She who holds the Book of Names and who had a hand in the creation of her scribes, the goddess I revere and adore, is... as I said, words fail. Except for the part where she literally IS the written word. And then I’m laughing at my laptop screen again.
But my mind was wandering the other day, and I started mentally constructing a hypothetical temple. Something small and unobtrusive, but interesting. Maybe someplace busy, like New York, with the old back-alley surprise shops and classy old courtyards surrounded by sprouting skyscrapers. I’m rather attached to America, but I could see something similar in London. Either way, some sort of divot in the walls of glass and steel, a high-walled courtyard with a heavy door. But the door is left open, and the walls are soft with vines. It’s guarded by twin stone lions. The same ones you sometimes see in the yards of people trying too hard to look regal, maybe. But it’s an old practice. Probably inspired by the New York Library. Possibly a reflection of the statues that guarded kings and old polytheist temples. Either way, there would be lions, and maybe a carving of the Anzu Bird over the lintel.
In this hypothetical little sacellum, no if ands or buts about it, there would be a public bookcase or two. I’ve seen them around town, and they’re absolutely brilliant. The paving stones would be covered in all sorts of book quotes in as many languages as I could convince a mason to try, including Braille. At the back there would have to be a statue, and some of my thinking is probably inspired by when I wandered Granada and would stumble on an aljibe with a mosaic of the Virgin over it. In my head this looks a little bit close to the Madonna, and I’m not sure what I think of that. But there’d be a little plaque on the wall explaining who she is, and a basket or two for whatever a person might want to offer. I like the idea of a prayer box, I’ve seen those before, where you write on a slip of paper and it stays in the box as a secret. Or the papers are burned. Either way, both fit with the goddess of the written word and the old ways of burning offerings to lift your prayers skyward.
I have a lot of ideas, and no real means or resources to focus on them, but ideas are nice. I was thinking about this temple idea, and I wondered to myself what her sacred animal would be. There’s no record of one. Lions and bulls and dragons are all staple parts of the old hymns, but... I wanted to see if anything had developed over the years. In America we’ve developed this idea of giving teachers an apple, which is why I offer them to her. We associate twin lions with libraries because of the New York Library. Maybe there was more, hiding away with the book curses and scriptoriums.
I typed “Ten Most Iconic Libraries” into Google.
A good percentage of them are related to monasteries, which makes sense. Some of them had royal sponsorship at one point or another. There’s nods to their local history, the obvious relish of architects given room to play, some modernized and some stately old monuments. But there was one little detail that kept popping up in the descriptions: quite a few of the oldest libraries had a... symbiotic relationship of sorts with resident bats.
Bats and small birds like to hole up in unusual places, true. Check out your local mall food court and keep an eye out in the airport as you drag your suitcase down the moving sidewalk to see for yourself what I mean. But apparently your friendly neighborhood pest control has a taste for bookworms.
(For the record, the term ‘bookworm’ refers to any insect with a taste for literature. This extends to moths who eat cloth bindings and beetles who tunnel through the paper like wood, as well as the beetles after your leather tomes.)
In ancient Sumer, bats and birds were associated with Nanshe, especially pelicans. More specifically, owls were associated with lilitu-demons and possibly Ereshkigal. But then, their libraries more closely resembled the cooling rack at your local college pottery class. Not something many bookworms wanted to nibble.
Cultures change and religions evolve. I think I’ve found my answers, at least to this question. Especially considering how sometimes the endless shelves remind me of a quiet crypt (Seriously, my first time in a proper old crypt that was my first comparison). Maybe I’m obsessive and seeing connections, maybe bats are my favorite animal and I’m biased. But it’s interesting, to see the evolution of the gods. It’s interesting, to run the thought experiments, to ask the “what if”s, to make yourself at home on the outskirts and then see places where society has already met you in the middle, unnoticed.
For that matter, colophons are pretty cool too.
Nisaba za3-mi2-zu dug3-ga-am3
I'm screaming. How did I not know about this? They've actually found a temple of Nisaba and Haya?! I NEED ALL OF THE INFO. Also the lion is cute.
Gugulanna, as depicted by Fate/Grand Order. Most videogame/media depictions of my gods I'm not a huge fan of. Check out Marvel's Ningal to see what I mean. There's DnD's Tiamat, probably Nergal (Nurgle) in Warhammer40k. I don't even like Ishtar in the Fate series, really. But Gugulanna? Good gods this art is beautiful.
The Epic of Gilgamesh: D&D style
Inanna rolling a Nat 20 to summon the Bull of Heaven. Gilgamesh failing a Perception check when he goes to take a bath and having a snake steal the herb of immortality. Please, tabletop nerds and mythology bookworms, make this a thing?
NaNoWriMo!
It is that time of year, folks. I haven't done this before, but I'd say it's high time. Especially considering my personal goddess, y'know? National Novel Writing Month is upon us, and I'm going to take the time to write up 50,000 words of poetry, prayers and more featuring the Anunnaki. If anyone has ideas, I'm all ears. This is a very unique combination of despair and delight, I must say. I am so not prepared, but so very ready to do this.
Altar for when your style is cramped, featuring: One Kleenex A cigarette lighter A cup of cheap but delicious sangria Two icons made from salt dough for Nuska (left) and Nisaba (right), respectively A candle with a stick of incense in it In the background is also a naked Dr. Pepper bottle full of ritually purified water. Which basically amounts to me praying to Enki for him to purify it. I’m not going to make a habit of altar posts, but considering my upcoming video and the number of people nervous about not having elaborate altars, I figured it was appropriate. This was set up on a bedside table, the only place I could. You can easily substitute water for sangria, because what is more sacred than water? I usually pair it with water crackers and an apple, but. Style is very cramped right now.
On Nisaba: Epithets
This is just a quick way to dust my brain of ideas before bed, but also a thing I've been interested in. I should be a good scribe and list sources, do some superscript numbers, and all that jazz. I am a sleepy scribe who needs to earn money in the morning, so I'm taking shortcuts like a college student.
Historical terms used for Nisaba:
Mother of the Burning
Priestess of the Country
Purity-Adorned
Noble Lady whose body is the flecked barley
Splendid Radiance
Righteous Wild Cow
Exceedingly Wise
Foremost of the Land
Righteous woman
Woman who swells with joy
Lady who radiates
Exalted Scribe of An
Land-Registrar of Enlil
Beautiful Woman
Lady Colored Like The Stars
Dragon Emerging in Glory at the Festival
Lady Of Broad Wisdom
Lady of the Protective Spirits
Lady of the House of Wisdom
She whose Heart knows Counting
Throne-Bearer of Ninlil
These are not all limited to her, but they have been used to reference her. Her "spheres" if you want to be picky about it are barley, astronomy, mathematics, the act of writing, and literature among other things. There are nuances to her, as with most people.
UPG epithets:
Goddess of Information Technology
Great Librarian
Keeper of the Book of Names
She Who Holds the Book of Life
Lady with hair like mulberry silk
Lady of the Gold Standard
She who is the beauty of the reed wedge pressed into clay
She who dwells in the college coffee shops
Dragon of the book-hoard
Lady of the printing press
She who speaks multitudinous tongues
She who dwells in binary code
Also as a side note, please appreciate the pun in my offering apples and blackberries. In my experience she has a preference for vanilla, too. Check out the chemical breakdown of books as they age and you'll find some vanillin, which is involved in that sacrosanct "book smell". Also almonds, which I'll be trying soon.
I'm sorry, I was just scrolling through the internet and saw this. WHAT IS THIS. Admittedly when I first stepped out of Christianity I could take a very polar view of things and heavily based my views on the myths, but everyone grows out of misinformation at some point. Or so I'd like to think. Or as least I like the lie. Nergal is the blazing summer sun, the seasons of war, sickness. If you don't like him you can stick to Gugulanna I suppose, or even Ereshkigal as a widow, but Nergal is not the "satan" to Ereshkigal's position or whatnot. And if this has a radical feminist group, let me say this, and say it again louder for the people in the back: A healthy marriage is not and has never been abusive. Due to the sheer amount of conflicting interpretations, you do realize you can pick which version of the myth you like best? Ereshkigal begging for mercy while being dragged down by the hair doesn't have to be your canon, or even relevant to your practice if you like a different version better? Myths weren't just stories of the gods, totally untouched by current events. They were frequently political tools. An excellent example is the Contendings of Horus and Set, in Egypt. You can interpret the works of man as the works of their gods if you like. But if Tumblr alone has taught anyone anything, it's that people can be opinionated and convinced that their way is the only way. I'm not here to tell anyone what to think. I do get my knickers in a twist over people dragging a god I honor like he's an upstart dog. I still want that Anointed book, but now I'm wondering how good it actually is.
“The Appearance of Ereškigal in Egypt,”— I am beyond livid.
Its a piece found in the devotional anthology Anointed. It is written by a Greco-Roman-Egyptian synctetist reconstructionist. Notice the lack of the words Akkadian, Sumerian, Mesopotamian, or Babylonian in that descriptor.
So they wrote a piece from Ereškigal’s perspective. To boil it down, Ereškigal is spitting on her husband Nergal, mocking him, hating him, denying that he ever ruled Irkalla. Claiming he did all these horrendous things in Egypt [Edit: Well Aten’s crimes so assisting him, I guess] so she stripped him of his possession, power, and takes all his offerings.
My stomach turned. How can you have so much hatred in your heart for a God that you write a horrendous piece in the voice of his wife. HIS WIFE. Whom he loves and she loves him.
Its just a matter of fact that in later periods the cult worship of Nergal shifted his position to that of ruler of the underworld and Ereškigal was no longer solely Queen. Thats how the Mesopotamians viewed this God and Goddess. Unless I’m missing something and Ereškigal was worshipped in Egypt where she despised her own lover.
For those interested in the myth of their marriage here: https://michi-izkur-ereshkigal.tumblr.com/post/176564264973/what-is-your-favorite-mesopotamian-myth
And if you want , read the disgusting piece of work:
The Author:
Just a little something for anyone who's worried about offerings. You can make fancy cakes and hunt down expensive historically accurate wheat. Or you can make a midnight run to Walmart and whip up some sweet, totally healthy and very appropriate deliciousness. In fact, I might try making some by squishing dates in a Ziploc and shaking that in a bag of chopped pistachios. Who knows. Is this what they call a life hack?
A Very Sumerian Christmas
So, some friends of mine and I were thinking about the utter lack of Christmas-adjacent holidays in Sumerian Polytheism. My brain snagged on the idea of Santa Claus and Nanna's Journey to Nibru. The result? Ma-gur, or the festival of the processional boat. A celebration which starts seven days before the winter solstice. The celebration in question is of the seven who decree fate and the world which they have given us. It's a holiday about family as well as it is about honoring the gods. An - Solemn prayer and many candles to represent the stars. Sanctuary candle is lit and kept lit throughout the days to honor all the gods and symbolize how they guide us. Enlil - wishes for the new years and messages for the gods. Enki - prank war, and a general day of humor and celebration of the world order. Ninhursag - Day of charity and getting out into the world which the gods have created. Inanna - Day of giving to yourself, indulging and giving love to yourself and the gods. Utu - Day of improving the world around you. Fix broken things, commit to a cause, improve your life a bit. Rest and enjoy peaceful time with your family otherwise. Nanna - Gift giving and wild celebration. Winter solstice. Ends, as all the nights do, with offering and prayer to the god in question as well as tribute being given to one's ancestors, followed by the snuffing of the candle as the holiday comes to a close. That's the gist of it. Sounds like a good time either way. This is the slightly crisper version of a list that included things like "Inanna's Day- go clubbing" and "Ninhursag's Day- drag the kids into the mountains for bonding time". Also various ideas like tying wishes to balloons for Enlil's Day, water purification on Enki's Day, and letting some sunlight into my dark den of nerdiness on Utu's Day. Feel free to play with it. Pass it on?
On Nuska: #justpolytheistproblems
I talk a lot about Nisaba, and for good reason. She's the goddess I'm sworn to, and very important to me. But I know I have a habit of hyperfocusing, and I know I love Nuska too. It's just that I have no idea how to express it sometimes. I write poetry for him, I praise him, I've got an icon and a candle for him on my altar, but. I want to give him something special. Yes, there's the food offering, but. I mean. I've offered bullet shells to Inanna and massive works of poetry to Nisaba. Nuska is a fire god, and more specifically deals with torches, lamplight, and purifying fire. What protects you at night, pretty much. He's also the vizier of Enlil who orders the E-kur, maintains it and keeps it spotless in addition to seeing out Enlil's commands. In my practice I view him as the son of Nanna and Ningal, and Gibil as a bit of a separate-but-related deity in charge of more work-oriented fire (cookstove, kiln, forge). Nuska is also an intermediary between a supplicant and the gods, as a god of fire which carries incense smoke and offerings to the heavens. So what on earth could I possibly get him as a gift? I have a nice incense burner, candles for days, the clay lamp I made for him as an icon. I don't really need more candles. Maybe a specific incense, like how I burn vanilla for Nisaba? But I don't know if that feels right either. I mean, I have a hunch about cinnamon incense, but. I can't exactly buy a bunch of tiki torches, and putting an old electric nightlight up there just wouldn't seem right either. Let's face it, they're pretty ugly. So. What do? I guess I'll figure something out, but feel free to commiserate or shout ideas.
Right now, Nisaba and Enki have the godly equivalent of Google Docs open, and are staring at a joint project. Enki, among his many talents as Organizer Of The World Order and Maker Of Stuff (see: sheep, grain), knows how to shape worlds out of binary code as easily as Ninhursag (his wife) can shape people out of clay. His is the power of knowledge, for knowledge gives you the grasp of the soul of a thing. Nisaba is the written word itself, numbers, and the recording of that knowledge. They're pretty proud of this bizarre brainchild. It's grown in unexpected ways, thrown a few pudding cups and accidentally made entirely new concepts, but all in all it seems to be going well. It's been in the care and keeping of their pet project, humanity, for several decades now, and adopted several interesting personality quirks. Inanna, the lady of passion and violence and the precipice of night, loves this new thing humans have access to. She revels in the snuff films and porn viruses, the beauty blogs and military histories. All of the gods want in on the action when humans learn how to communicate, but none do so to better effect than her. But now these three gods are staring at one another, blank faced. Nisaba of-ten-thousand-tongues just read aloud a DM from Inanna, lady-of-delight. She's excellent at reading comprehension and is possessed of an extraordinarily compelling voice, but she reads this with the methodical caution of a person asked to teach chemistry at a puppy training school. She runs it by her husband, Haia, who is the scribal god excelling in matters of economics. Surely he can provide some clarification on the message? At it happens, he can. He does so with a frown normally reserved for double-stuffed bookcases and sharpie redactions. Together, playing off of their strengths to shore up the shaky parts of Inanna's rather empassioned and emoji-riddled complaint, they present the whole of the issue to Father Enki. Enki, on being presented with it, promptly summoned all involved. All are in favor of protecting children and advocating for human rights and freedoms, this is a given. The fact that these two goals might be opposed is a bit of a joke, but it isn't a funny joke by any means. Nisaba is carefully dragging a graphite-dusted nail over the Constitution of the United States. Inanna has somehow set her bra on fire and is casually tossing physical copies of several internet posts on it to keep the present company warm. Enki and Haia are discussing the logistics behind the issue while the goddesses gather ammunition. December 17 is the International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers. December 17 is Wright Brothers Day, commemorating the first successful flight. If ever there were a day for big changes, if ever there were a day to NOT piss off a goddess who personifies sex and violence, it would be that day. The Internet in all its forms is ours, just as the domestication of animals is ours now. The gods can only do so much, though they are vast beyond our wildest daydreams. And right now while Inanna flaunts nipple rings and a rainbow wrap skirt, and Nisaba pulls up research on cis male breastfeeding and every freedom of speech court case known to man? At this very moment, while Haia combs business records and the dictated notes of corporate meetings? Enki is sitting behind his Power Desk(tm) fiddling with a fidget spinner, waiting to see which way this chemical cocktail will explode. He'll make his move if he must, when he must. For now, his apkallu are bustling around the lower offices, and they're always at their most adorable when hard at work. Everyone is politely ignoring the fact that they don't actually want the big man to make a move. The last time that was necessary, he was saving mankind from a flood brought about by his brother's divine annoyance. Surely, the apkallu whisper. Surely it won't come to that? Enki spins his fidget spinner, scrolls through a few more memes, and waits.
From: a praise poem of Sulgi (Sulgi E)
“No one shall ever let any of it pass from memory ……. It shall not be forgotten, since indestructible heavenly writing has a lasting renown.” -a dude from roughly 6,000 years ago dictating to his scribes as they write on clay tablets, probably If anyone questions why I worship Nisaba, see the above text.
Inanna and Shukaletuda: abridged
Inanna’s solution to rapists: All of the water is blood now Storms everywhere, stroll with your entourage in it like a boss Block the roads Call for backup Become a rainbow Find the dude, kill him, and make sure no one forgets what he did to deserve it
Ninurta, as you pass by, like a terrifyingly fierce lion you make heaven and earth tremble from east to west. -An adab to Ninurta for Ur-Ninurta (Ur-Ninurta C)
Hail to Ninurta, lord of the storm, whose eyes flash like lightning. Pacing the black horizon with mace in hand, you shake your hair and roar defiance at the distant mountains, who tremble at your coming. Your approach is terror to the enemy, like an onrushing flood you smash the gates and strip the lofty forests of their vanity. Your mace is the green threat of hail, your gleaming spear is a forked flash in the looming darkness. At your command the fields press lips to the gritty dirt and murmur adulation. Ninurta, at your glance the air goes breathless and the mountains howl with bloodless fear. Lion of the stormwinds crowned in gleaming rainbows, may your name resound on the lips of the black-headed ones forever and ever.
(digital artist https://www.deviantart.com/zbush/art/, prayer written by me)
The city is founded on knowledge. Its bricks are filled with words, its walls are chapters, the buildings are books, the city is founded on knowledge. In the subterranean arteries there are graffiti lines, in the rafters of glassy towers there are etched-in hieroglyphs. The city, our city, the city of Holy Nisaba is founded on knowledge.
The millstone grinds for holy Nisaba, the water towers flow for holy Nisaba, the streets are swept for the coming of holy Nisaba’s pure footsteps. The hem of her linen robes collects no dirt, and the stars where they spin frame her face in a radiant crown. Holy Nisaba who marks the borders stands with tablet in hand, and her decrees are inviolable. They are carved stone to the workers, they are carved stone to the writers, her words are carved stone to the children who run in her fields. Her hand is on the architect, her hand is on the scribe, her hand is on the lawmaker, and the city is founded on knowledge.
The pencil writes for holy Nisaba, the pen flows smoothly for holy Nisaba, the compass and charcoal dance for holy Nisaba on snow-white reams. Paper mutters with delight in her presence, and keyboards clatter pleasantly for her. Computers awake with good cheer and swift grace for her, sharpeners whir eagerly for her, erasers scrub with fierce devotion to their task that they might please the Lady of the Written Word. Notebooks straighten their spines as soldiers at inspection and shelves set their footing to show their strength beneath the burden of her gifts. Bookworms and rot retreat from her approach, corruption shrinks from her glance, for the city is founded on knowledge and the holy written word is as steadfast as carved stone.
Holy Nisaba, your servant comes to the foot of your dais covered in the blue blood of a thousand pens, graphite smudged on her cheeks like a woman fresh from combat. Holy Nisaba, radiant mother, goddess of the burning field that gives way to green shoots, your servant comes to the foot of your dais on bended knee, bubbling with praises like cool spring water. Good woman, great wild cow who watches the barley fields, mother of the scribes who delights in mathematics, divine accountant and immortal poet, how can your servant not sing in adoration? The pen sings for you, the page sings for you. So too does your servant sing, ceaseless and exuberant, tearful and trembling with hands upraised. Holy Nisaba whose name is honey on the lips of her servants, who keeps the book of names and marks the actions of her servants, may you be well pleased in the piety of your scribes, may you be satisfied in their devotion, for the city is founded on knowledge and you sit enthroned at the peak of the mountain of metaphors, circled by sources, with library lions at your feet.
My lady, divine scribe of the Anuna, immaculate and triumphant in a kingdom built of binary code, the city is founded on knowledge and your words are immortal. For your power and your glory may your holy name be praised.
Polytheistic Ramblings: Ninkilim
So I’m sitting on my bed, sick as a dog, and filled with the sort of single-minded half-mad frenzy that only insects can inspire in me. Insects are fine. They can live their little insect lives. But if they don’t pay rent, they don’t live in my apartment, and I can only pour so much salt on my threshold and windowsills. The logical solution is to buy some bug spray and go to town on my foundation, but that won’t protect me from the aerial fury of mosquitoes and flies given time to glut and grow in the sweltering Arkansas heat. Further south they’re big enough to shoot, alright. Forget rent, those boys need a warrant before coming through my windows. And I refuse to think about some of the cockroaches I’ve seen in the area.
I admit to having a phobia, I admit to being that one little crybaby who locks up and shrieks for backup at the sight of some swollen little creature with too many legs and possibly even venom, but all of the green save-the-planet intentions in the world won’t stop my panic, so I roll with it. And I get creative.
I make incense in my spare time, or attempt to. The humidity here isn’t good for drying cones, and my nose is genetically wired wrong enough that I can’t hardly smell my work, but it’s fun and an endless hands-on puzzle for me to solve. And, on an even better note, it’s cheaper to make your own cedar incense than it is to buy the stuff by a long shot. The effort that goes into making incense makes the offering feel more personal, when it works anyway, and I like to think it’s a good way to honor Nuska, as the god of fire who carries prayers to the sky, or any of the other gods of purification. I purify all of my tools obsessively when I work, usually with water. But I titled this after Ninkilim in particular for a reason, and here it is:
If I can get one of these recipes to work, first order of business is dedicating the batch to them. I know of a lot of purification gods, but Ninkilim, as the lord of rats and locust teeth, has a long history of being petitioned by the everyman with pest control concerns. A very early farmers’ almanac instructs the farmer to make an offering of mersu and perform rites in the field for Ninkilim. I haven’t been able to track down the particulars of those rites, but I can only hope that my respectful fumbling is persuasive in some manner, because everything I am is repulsed by bugs and rodents, and making offerings now and again to the deity of little crawling creatures is hardly too much to ask in exchange for a little peace. There isn’t a lot of information out there a lowly wage slave like myself can access, but by all the gods if I’m going to do one honor then I’m going to do so with as much information under my belt as possible. So I have a tiny cache of PDFs, foremost among them being The Dogs of Ninkilim (parts 1 & 2). Secondary resources, maybe, but I haven’t been able to find any tablet translations with enough useful content, so a little faith in humanity is sometimes appropriate.
So I make offerings, trawl for information, and sometimes get to see the way my beloved and brilliant girlfriend glares at me while I test-burn incense blends for the noble purpose of protecting our home from the encroaching hordes of crawlies. In my defense, I had no idea that my experiment smelled like weed. Lemongrass apparently doesn’t smell like lemons when you burn it, who knew? That’s a good note for my mad scientist journal though. One of these days I’ll perfect it. I’ll make an insect-repellant incense worthy of dedication to a god, field test it, and then woe betide any unwelcome intruders. Entomophobia? Yeah, still present. But I have the mercy of Lord Ninkilim and a fistful of basil on my side. Have at thee, fiends.