San La Muerte: Lord of Death
- Thread starter Yithian
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I'm guessing he should ask for his money back?
ramonmercado
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More on the Mexican group.
The cult of Santa Muerte goes deep in Mexico, and is long associated with the outcasts and marginalized.
Santa Muerte loves rum and red roses. cigars and money. These are offered to her image to curry her favor. If you examine the images associated with The Grateful Dead, you find a skeleton festooned with red roses-a cult image to emphacize the connection of the band with the down trodden.
The cult seems to have come from the goddess Mictecaihuatl The Lady of the Underworld, and wife of death. She spent the day eating the stars, but her other duties included watching over the bones of the dead and presiding over festivals-The Day of the Dead is one of her celebrations.
There is another cult, the veneration of Maximon, where a wooden dummy is richly dressed and regaled with offerings. Where Santa Muerte is an Aztec tradition. Maximon is from Mayan country, and is a bit of a gangsa. The image moves from house to house each year, and the keeper is often well rewarded.
There are mysteries
Santa Muerte loves rum and red roses. cigars and money. These are offered to her image to curry her favor. If you examine the images associated with The Grateful Dead, you find a skeleton festooned with red roses-a cult image to emphacize the connection of the band with the down trodden.
The cult seems to have come from the goddess Mictecaihuatl The Lady of the Underworld, and wife of death. She spent the day eating the stars, but her other duties included watching over the bones of the dead and presiding over festivals-The Day of the Dead is one of her celebrations.
There is another cult, the veneration of Maximon, where a wooden dummy is richly dressed and regaled with offerings. Where Santa Muerte is an Aztec tradition. Maximon is from Mayan country, and is a bit of a gangsa. The image moves from house to house each year, and the keeper is often well rewarded.
There are mysteries
ramonmercado
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Next Halloween, go shopping-you'll find scads of assorted Santa Muerte images, crowned skulls, robed skeletons bearing scales, a scythe or a globe Red Roses are often part of the image.
I have a .45 Colt automatic with robed skeletons scrimshawed into the grips, for a pistolero flair.
Santa Muerte is well known in American cities.
Cthulhu is soooo jealous!
I have a .45 Colt automatic with robed skeletons scrimshawed into the grips, for a pistolero flair.
Santa Muerte is well known in American cities.
Cthulhu is soooo jealous!
ramonmercado
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During one of Pope Francis’ speeches on his landmark trip to Mexico earlier this year, he issued a cryptic admonishment.
In an address to Mexican bishops, the pontiff said he was "particularly concerned about those many persons who, seduced by the empty power of the world, praise illusions and embrace their macabre symbols to commemorate death in exchange for money."
For those outside of Latin America, the pope's reference to a secretive "cult" that venerates Santa Muerte, or Saint Death, is likely to escape notice. But to the 10 million to 12 million adherents in the region, the pope’s criticism of the Santa Muerte, which has challenged the influence of the Catholic Church, was clear.
"As esoteric as [devotion to Santa Muerte] seems, it is very practically oriented." Andrew Chesnut, the Bishop Walter F. Sullivan Chair in Catholic Studies at Virginia Commonwealth University and author of "Devoted to Death: Santa Muerte, the Skeleton Saint," told The National Catholic Review.
Santa Muerte, and the people who worship her, are much maligned, often associated with the region’s narco underworld. But the reality, like faith, is more complex. ...
http://www.msn.com/en-us/news/world...g-the-power-of-the-catholic-church/ss-BBqAcJe
In an address to Mexican bishops, the pontiff said he was "particularly concerned about those many persons who, seduced by the empty power of the world, praise illusions and embrace their macabre symbols to commemorate death in exchange for money."
For those outside of Latin America, the pope's reference to a secretive "cult" that venerates Santa Muerte, or Saint Death, is likely to escape notice. But to the 10 million to 12 million adherents in the region, the pope’s criticism of the Santa Muerte, which has challenged the influence of the Catholic Church, was clear.
"As esoteric as [devotion to Santa Muerte] seems, it is very practically oriented." Andrew Chesnut, the Bishop Walter F. Sullivan Chair in Catholic Studies at Virginia Commonwealth University and author of "Devoted to Death: Santa Muerte, the Skeleton Saint," told The National Catholic Review.
Santa Muerte, and the people who worship her, are much maligned, often associated with the region’s narco underworld. But the reality, like faith, is more complex. ...
http://www.msn.com/en-us/news/world...g-the-power-of-the-catholic-church/ss-BBqAcJe
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The Believers: Cult Murders in Mexico
They thought their rituals of human sacrifice would make them invincible. In the end, a much stronger force prevailed.
Guy Garcia - June 29, 1989
For Mark Kilroy and his friends, the nightmare began as a spring-break blowout. In the early hours of Saturday, March 11th, Kilroy, a senior at the University of Texas at Austin, Bill Huddleston and Bradley Moore, both juniors at Texas A&M, and Brent Martin, a student at Alvin Community College, in Alvin, Texas, packed into Martin's car and hit the road bound for South Padre Island, a balmy stretch of sand and sea where the southern tip of the Lone Star State meets the Gulf of Mexico. The quartet — all former high-school basketball and baseball teammates from Santa Fe, Texas — were looking forward to a week of drinking, sunning and meeting girls on the beach. Blond and well built, a premed and a good athlete, Kilroy, 21, was the all-American boy next door, described by one of his friends as "an above-average kind of guy."
On Sunday the four youths decided to make a short trip to nearby Brownsville and then cross the Rio Grande to Matamoros, a scrappy, booming border town whose main attraction to thousands of spring-break students each year is Calle Alvaro Obregon, a wide avenue of bars and discos where you can get a cold Corona with lime for a dollar. Along the way the friends stopped at a hamburger joint and hooked up with a foursome of Kansas coeds who were looking for directions to Matamoros. Once across the border, they rendezvoused with their dates at a club called Sgt. Pepper's. "The line outside wasn't too bad," says Huddleston, "but it was pretty crowded." The boys drank and danced until about 2:30 a.m., then headed back to their hotel.
The following night, after dropping in at a party thrown by some of Kilroy's fraternity brothers, he and his friends decided to pay a second visit to Matamoros. This time, though, they parked their car on the American side of the border and walked across the bridge to Calle Obregon.
The first stop was El Sombrero, where they had a couple of drinks before moving a few blocks farther down the street to a joint that had recently been rechristened the Hard Rock, to attract American kids. There Mark left the group to talk to a woman that he knew. "Mark was hanging around with a girl who got third place in the tanning contest," says Huddleston. Eventually, Kilroy said goodnight to his female friend, and the four youths started walking back toward the bridge. Spirits were high as the friends traded banter about the day's events. About 200 feet from the American border, Huddleston ran ahead to urinate behind a tree in the small park that lies at the beginning of Calle Obregon. As he left Kilroy's side, Huddleston noticed a Mexican man motioning in their direction. "I thought maybe it was someone Mark might've known," says Huddleston. "I heard him say something like 'Didn't I just see you somewhere?' or 'Where did I last see you?'" When Huddleston joined Moore and Martin a few moments later, Kilroy wasn't with them. After backtracking to look for his friend, Huddleston crossed the border, expecting to find Kilroy at the car with Moore and Martin. The trio waited a few more minutes, then left, thinking that Kilroy had gotten a ride back to the hotel with somebody else. Says Huddleston, "When we woke up the next morning and we still hadn't heard from him, that's when we knew something was wrong."
Continued Here:
http://www.rollingstone.com/culture/features/the-believers-19890629
They thought their rituals of human sacrifice would make them invincible. In the end, a much stronger force prevailed.
Guy Garcia - June 29, 1989
For Mark Kilroy and his friends, the nightmare began as a spring-break blowout. In the early hours of Saturday, March 11th, Kilroy, a senior at the University of Texas at Austin, Bill Huddleston and Bradley Moore, both juniors at Texas A&M, and Brent Martin, a student at Alvin Community College, in Alvin, Texas, packed into Martin's car and hit the road bound for South Padre Island, a balmy stretch of sand and sea where the southern tip of the Lone Star State meets the Gulf of Mexico. The quartet — all former high-school basketball and baseball teammates from Santa Fe, Texas — were looking forward to a week of drinking, sunning and meeting girls on the beach. Blond and well built, a premed and a good athlete, Kilroy, 21, was the all-American boy next door, described by one of his friends as "an above-average kind of guy."
On Sunday the four youths decided to make a short trip to nearby Brownsville and then cross the Rio Grande to Matamoros, a scrappy, booming border town whose main attraction to thousands of spring-break students each year is Calle Alvaro Obregon, a wide avenue of bars and discos where you can get a cold Corona with lime for a dollar. Along the way the friends stopped at a hamburger joint and hooked up with a foursome of Kansas coeds who were looking for directions to Matamoros. Once across the border, they rendezvoused with their dates at a club called Sgt. Pepper's. "The line outside wasn't too bad," says Huddleston, "but it was pretty crowded." The boys drank and danced until about 2:30 a.m., then headed back to their hotel.
The following night, after dropping in at a party thrown by some of Kilroy's fraternity brothers, he and his friends decided to pay a second visit to Matamoros. This time, though, they parked their car on the American side of the border and walked across the bridge to Calle Obregon.
The first stop was El Sombrero, where they had a couple of drinks before moving a few blocks farther down the street to a joint that had recently been rechristened the Hard Rock, to attract American kids. There Mark left the group to talk to a woman that he knew. "Mark was hanging around with a girl who got third place in the tanning contest," says Huddleston. Eventually, Kilroy said goodnight to his female friend, and the four youths started walking back toward the bridge. Spirits were high as the friends traded banter about the day's events. About 200 feet from the American border, Huddleston ran ahead to urinate behind a tree in the small park that lies at the beginning of Calle Obregon. As he left Kilroy's side, Huddleston noticed a Mexican man motioning in their direction. "I thought maybe it was someone Mark might've known," says Huddleston. "I heard him say something like 'Didn't I just see you somewhere?' or 'Where did I last see you?'" When Huddleston joined Moore and Martin a few moments later, Kilroy wasn't with them. After backtracking to look for his friend, Huddleston crossed the border, expecting to find Kilroy at the car with Moore and Martin. The trio waited a few more minutes, then left, thinking that Kilroy had gotten a ride back to the hotel with somebody else. Says Huddleston, "When we woke up the next morning and we still hadn't heard from him, that's when we knew something was wrong."
Continued Here:
http://www.rollingstone.com/culture/features/the-believers-19890629