Hey joons,
This month is dedicated to the celebration of women (and Norouz…). Because let’s be honest – it’s the 21st century and we’re still dealing with a lot of bullsh*t that many women before us worked their asses off to overcome.
sexandfessenjoon
SEX and our love for fessenJOON
Category Archives: Stories From a Past Life
From Your Valentine
Sup joons,
Valentine’s Day can make us feel pretty resentful. I haven’t had a “romantic” Valentine’s Day since… ever. Once I bought my ex flowers, then the following year we broke up. The year after we were still broken up but trying, (which is always horrible), and last year it went to hell.
This year I have hopes in having a lovey dovey day. Not expectations, but hopes. As baba says…
“If you expect, you will be disappointed. If you hope, you will only get sad.”
February gets a lot of cold shoulders (pun intended) from those shunning Valentine’s Day. You’re either bumming about singledom or raging against the commercialism machine.
But, like many Western holidays, did you know Valentine’s Day comes from Roman and Christian beliefs and traditions?
Way back when Romans wore olive branches and togas, February was the month for celebrating agricultural bounty. Cries of “Tend the grapes!” were probably shouted all over the place while the humble Roman folk were preparing to get jiggy with their favorite reason for February: Lupercalia.Lupercalia was a fertility feast celebrated on February 15 where Romans paid homage to Faunus, their god of agriculture.
Roman priests (Luperci) sacrificed goats and dogs, and then stripped the goat hide away and slapped town women with the hide to bestow upon them more fertile wombs. Roman women welcomed this gesture, believing it could help them yield many a crop of strong Roman boys and more bloody-goat-hide-lovin’ Roman ladies.
This year, ask your sweetheart to do the same thing – if he slaps you with bloody goat hide, he’s a keeper and you may want to start planning your khastegari. Continue reading
19, in 1979
A Guest Post that’s a throwback to another generation, we thank them for allowing us to share this story:
I was about 19 years old, a University student in Isfahan when the Shah’s regime fell. All of us were very excited to be a part of history in the making. Even before they shut down the schools, I had stopped going to classes– why bother? Even in class, our professors talked politics- not math or physics.
The real education was out on the streets, we thought, but that was arrogant and naive. I remember throwing perfectly good University Cafeteria food into the trash as a sign of defiance to the ‘regime.’
Looking back, I wish I had enjoyed the Kabob and stayed in school.
In the time of the Referendum, when people voted for an Islamic Republic, the country had no effective military or police. Each province was divided up into precincts, and each precinct had its ‘guards.’ Who were these guards?
