The Twenty Percent True Podcast
Season 5: Monster of the Week
Episode 2: Dragon Island
For more: Background Information
August 29, 2019
Monster of the Week: Dragon Island
The Twenty Percent True Podcast
Season 5: Monster of the Week
Episode 2: Dragon Island
For more: Background Information
More about Al-Mi'raj
Season 5, Episode 2: Dragon Island
The mi'raj is a rabbit from Persian poetry. It has a single, black, spiraling horn coming out of its forehead. It is territorial and can kill people and animals several times its size by stabbing them. It can also eat foes several times its size. Wildlife feared and avoided it, and people feared it because it would kill and eat them and their livestock.
The mi'raj is from Jezîrat al-Tennyn, or "Sea Serpent Island," which is in the Indian Ocean. When Alexander the Great visited the island, he defeated a fire-breathing dragon that was terrorizing the locals and demanding two dozen oxen be presented to him a day. Alexander stuffed two ox skins with pitch and sulfur, making the beast sick. Soon afterward, it died. The people of the island showed their gratitude by gifting him a mi'raj.
It was said that the people of the island feared the mi'raj, and needed a witch to ward the animal away whenever it was sighted nearby. Only a true witch could subdue the mi'raj so they could remove it from the area.
This story makes me think they sent one off with Alexander the Great just to get rid of it.
Al-Mi'raj is mentioned in the bestiary portion of "ʿAjā'ib al-makhlūqāt wa gharā'ib al-mawjūdā" or "Marvels of Creatures and Strange Things Existing" (shortened to "The Wonders of Creation"), a precursor to an encyclopedia by Zakariya al-Qazwini. The book uses its bestiary section to say, "if these weird animals exist, why are you questioning that angels exist?" and therefore focuses largely on strange birds. Al-Qazwini was a Persian physician, astronomer, geographer and what would today be called a science fiction writer. He made up a lot of the creatures and stories, probably including the mi'raj, because it does not seem to appear prominently anywhere else until it was used as a monster in Dungeons and Dragons.
You'll often see it written as "al-mi'raj," but the prefix "al" is like an article so saying "the al-mi'raj" is like saying "the the mi'raj."
The mi'raj is a rabbit from Persian poetry. It has a single, black, spiraling horn coming out of its forehead. It is territorial and can kill people and animals several times its size by stabbing them. It can also eat foes several times its size. Wildlife feared and avoided it, and people feared it because it would kill and eat them and their livestock.
 |
| From "Myth Match," a fantastic creature mix-an-match book by Good Wives and Warriors |
It was said that the people of the island feared the mi'raj, and needed a witch to ward the animal away whenever it was sighted nearby. Only a true witch could subdue the mi'raj so they could remove it from the area.
This story makes me think they sent one off with Alexander the Great just to get rid of it.
Al-Mi'raj is mentioned in the bestiary portion of "ʿAjā'ib al-makhlūqāt wa gharā'ib al-mawjūdā" or "Marvels of Creatures and Strange Things Existing" (shortened to "The Wonders of Creation"), a precursor to an encyclopedia by Zakariya al-Qazwini. The book uses its bestiary section to say, "if these weird animals exist, why are you questioning that angels exist?" and therefore focuses largely on strange birds. Al-Qazwini was a Persian physician, astronomer, geographer and what would today be called a science fiction writer. He made up a lot of the creatures and stories, probably including the mi'raj, because it does not seem to appear prominently anywhere else until it was used as a monster in Dungeons and Dragons.
You'll often see it written as "al-mi'raj," but the prefix "al" is like an article so saying "the al-mi'raj" is like saying "the the mi'raj."
August 22, 2019
Monster of the Week: Capricorn
The Twenty Percent True Podcast
Season 5: Monster of the Week
Episode 1: Capricorn
For more: Background Information
More about the Capricorn
Season 5, Episode 1: Capricorn
The Capricorn is often called a goat-fish or a sea-goat as it has the front half of a goat and the back half of a fish.
It's most commonly known as a constellation, especially since it's one of the constellations of the zodiac. (December 22nd-January 19th) According to Cosmopolitan (the experts), people born under the sign of Capricorn are "practical, self reliant, stoic and ambitious. You'd want them in your corner... but maybe not at a party."
Imagery of sea-goats dates back to Babylonian times, but there isn't a whole lot of information about their myths. Sea-goats are often associated with the Egyptian god Khnum, who is part man, part goat.
There's one story (with a bunch of variants) where after the Greek Olympian gods defeated the titans, one titan, Typhon, was unhappy about this and attacked, forcing the gods to flee to Egypt and go into hiding as various animals. Dionysus turned into a goat and while hanging out in Egypt jumped/drunkenly fell into the Nile. As the titan was about to land a killing blow against Zeus, a drowning Dionysus called out in surprise, and the titan was distracted, wondering what that alarmed goat noise was, enough for Zeus to finish him off. Zeus was so pleased with Dionysus' quick thinking (sure, Zeus, we'll call it that) that he turned Dionysus into a constellation and let him ride through the heavens forever. This story doesn't make a whole lot of sense, because Dionysus is still kicking around on earth long after this event, so sometimes instead of Dionysus, it's the god Pan, and since Pan and Dionysus are so similar they get interchanged a lot.
But my favorite story about sea-goats is about Pricus, the immortal father of the sea-goat race. He and his children lived in the ocean, but enjoyed pulling themselves up onto the beach with their front hooves to sun themselves. However, as the sea-goats spent time on land, they became more goat than sea-goat and they forgot how to reason and speak until they were eventually just regular old goats. This made Pricus very sad, and he forbade all his children from going on land, which just made them churlish and determined to go on land anyway. You can't tell me what to do, dad! But! Pricus was created by Chronus, the god of time, and so Pricus possessed magic time powers, where he was able to turn back time and no one would know except him. This brought his wayward goat children back into the ocean where he would have a second chance to keep them off land. Then a third chance. And a fourth. Eventually he realized there was no stopping them, and he stopped turning back time. He begged Chronus to let him die, but Chronus said no and instead turned him into a constellation so he could watch his mindless goat children do goat things for all eternity.
There's a lot going on there!
Now, in the spirit of full disclosure: my mom is a Capricorn. Capricorns and moms are linked in my brain for all time, so this story caught my attention because the Capricorn is a parent. So I, of course, called my mom, told her all about it, and then asked what she thought about it, as a Capricorn. She said it certainly fit with her understanding of Capricorns, in that they're stubborn, and if their babies turn into goats, they'll just try again and again and again until their babies cut it out. Then she asked me, as the daughter of a Capricorn what I thought of it. I said that I didn't know, because she's always been very supportive of my decisions and has never told me to not turn into a goat. "That's true," she said. "I've never told you not to turn into a goat." She then said that if I did want to turn into a goat, she would try to be supportive, and then listed several reasons why it would be a bad idea.
The Capricorn is often called a goat-fish or a sea-goat as it has the front half of a goat and the back half of a fish.
 |
| Image from askastrology.com |
It's most commonly known as a constellation, especially since it's one of the constellations of the zodiac. (December 22nd-January 19th) According to Cosmopolitan (the experts), people born under the sign of Capricorn are "practical, self reliant, stoic and ambitious. You'd want them in your corner... but maybe not at a party."
Imagery of sea-goats dates back to Babylonian times, but there isn't a whole lot of information about their myths. Sea-goats are often associated with the Egyptian god Khnum, who is part man, part goat.
There's one story (with a bunch of variants) where after the Greek Olympian gods defeated the titans, one titan, Typhon, was unhappy about this and attacked, forcing the gods to flee to Egypt and go into hiding as various animals. Dionysus turned into a goat and while hanging out in Egypt jumped/drunkenly fell into the Nile. As the titan was about to land a killing blow against Zeus, a drowning Dionysus called out in surprise, and the titan was distracted, wondering what that alarmed goat noise was, enough for Zeus to finish him off. Zeus was so pleased with Dionysus' quick thinking (sure, Zeus, we'll call it that) that he turned Dionysus into a constellation and let him ride through the heavens forever. This story doesn't make a whole lot of sense, because Dionysus is still kicking around on earth long after this event, so sometimes instead of Dionysus, it's the god Pan, and since Pan and Dionysus are so similar they get interchanged a lot.
But my favorite story about sea-goats is about Pricus, the immortal father of the sea-goat race. He and his children lived in the ocean, but enjoyed pulling themselves up onto the beach with their front hooves to sun themselves. However, as the sea-goats spent time on land, they became more goat than sea-goat and they forgot how to reason and speak until they were eventually just regular old goats. This made Pricus very sad, and he forbade all his children from going on land, which just made them churlish and determined to go on land anyway. You can't tell me what to do, dad! But! Pricus was created by Chronus, the god of time, and so Pricus possessed magic time powers, where he was able to turn back time and no one would know except him. This brought his wayward goat children back into the ocean where he would have a second chance to keep them off land. Then a third chance. And a fourth. Eventually he realized there was no stopping them, and he stopped turning back time. He begged Chronus to let him die, but Chronus said no and instead turned him into a constellation so he could watch his mindless goat children do goat things for all eternity.
There's a lot going on there!
Now, in the spirit of full disclosure: my mom is a Capricorn. Capricorns and moms are linked in my brain for all time, so this story caught my attention because the Capricorn is a parent. So I, of course, called my mom, told her all about it, and then asked what she thought about it, as a Capricorn. She said it certainly fit with her understanding of Capricorns, in that they're stubborn, and if their babies turn into goats, they'll just try again and again and again until their babies cut it out. Then she asked me, as the daughter of a Capricorn what I thought of it. I said that I didn't know, because she's always been very supportive of my decisions and has never told me to not turn into a goat. "That's true," she said. "I've never told you not to turn into a goat." She then said that if I did want to turn into a goat, she would try to be supportive, and then listed several reasons why it would be a bad idea.
August 6, 2019
I read "Keep Going"
I read Keep Going, the latest book about creativity from Austin Kleon (the writer of Steal Like an Artist, which is a favorite of mine). This one was mostly focused on what to do when you feel stuck or uninspired.
My favorite and the most useful point I found was that productivity is not the same as creativity. To be productive, sometimes you need to lock yourself away from all distractions and get things done. To be creative, you need to go for a long walk, or take a nap, or go to a museum, or read a magazine. It doesn't look like you're being productive, because you aren't. So often, I hear that "thinking about writing is not the same as writing," so it was refreshing to hear the same advice, but put in a different light. You need time to be creative. You need time to be productive. Acknowledging that and separating those into what I'll now forever call "productive time" and "creative time" is going to be wildly helpful.
On the whole though, this book resonated much less with me than the others. Maybe it was the content, but I suspect it was the tone. In this one, Kleon cites other people and then calls them out for being wrong. For example, there are four shots fired at Marie Kondo. I don't think any of them are necessary when he could have just jumped to his point that a messy studio helps him be creative by allowing him to see some materials next to other materials that never would have gone together if they were never thrown into a pile on the floor. That's an interesting point. But framing it as "the lady who helped you get all your son's Legos in one place so you would stop crying and feeling claustrophobic is WRONG! I scoff that your kitchen brings you joy!" is off putting. I don't remember the previous books trying to be inspiring and uplifting by putting down other advice, but maybe I'm just not remembering it.
My favorite and the most useful point I found was that productivity is not the same as creativity. To be productive, sometimes you need to lock yourself away from all distractions and get things done. To be creative, you need to go for a long walk, or take a nap, or go to a museum, or read a magazine. It doesn't look like you're being productive, because you aren't. So often, I hear that "thinking about writing is not the same as writing," so it was refreshing to hear the same advice, but put in a different light. You need time to be creative. You need time to be productive. Acknowledging that and separating those into what I'll now forever call "productive time" and "creative time" is going to be wildly helpful.
On the whole though, this book resonated much less with me than the others. Maybe it was the content, but I suspect it was the tone. In this one, Kleon cites other people and then calls them out for being wrong. For example, there are four shots fired at Marie Kondo. I don't think any of them are necessary when he could have just jumped to his point that a messy studio helps him be creative by allowing him to see some materials next to other materials that never would have gone together if they were never thrown into a pile on the floor. That's an interesting point. But framing it as "the lady who helped you get all your son's Legos in one place so you would stop crying and feeling claustrophobic is WRONG! I scoff that your kitchen brings you joy!" is off putting. I don't remember the previous books trying to be inspiring and uplifting by putting down other advice, but maybe I'm just not remembering it.
May 21, 2019
More on the Koi
Season 2, Episode 5: Chaos
Koi are actual animals that you may have seen in decorative ponds in fancy places. In the US and most of the world, "koi" is the term used for a specific species of Japanese carp, which are patterned or speckled and come in a variety of colors--mostly orange, white, and black. Early koi in Japan were kept in muddy ponds, which were common near rice patties. The fish were used as a food source in addition to rice and veggies. But the koi soon started to show mutations of different colors and, instead of eating those, they were kept as collectors items. Koi breeding really took off in the early 1900s, spreading to the rest of the world.
In fact, my favorite phone game, Zen Koi, is one where you breed koi until you collect them all, eventually ascending them to dragon-hood. You may also be familiar with Magikarp, the carp-like Pokemon that's pretty much useless until it evolves into Gyrados, the huge water dragon.
Koi are associated with joy, luck, beauty, both friendly and romantic love, strength, and courage. There's a lot to get into with them.
But the koi episode of the podcast is specifically in conversation with a legend from the late Han Dynasty. In it, a school of golden koi were swimming upstream in the Yellow River, trying to leap the waterfall at the end to reach the Dragon's Gate. Most of the koi were not brave or strong enough to make it up the waterfall, but it's said that after a hundred years of trying, one finally succeeded and was transformed into a dragon. Thus, koi are symbols of perseverance, determination, and destiny fulfilled.
These are, of course, virtues that people want and identify with, so koi images appear all over the place. Koi tattoos are super popular. Koinobori, windsocks that look like koi, are usually flown over houses in Japan in late April and early May in celebration of Children's Day on May 5th, which is part of Golden Week. Putting up a koinobori is a way to wish for the koi-like virtues of perseverance and determination onto your children.
Koi are actual animals that you may have seen in decorative ponds in fancy places. In the US and most of the world, "koi" is the term used for a specific species of Japanese carp, which are patterned or speckled and come in a variety of colors--mostly orange, white, and black. Early koi in Japan were kept in muddy ponds, which were common near rice patties. The fish were used as a food source in addition to rice and veggies. But the koi soon started to show mutations of different colors and, instead of eating those, they were kept as collectors items. Koi breeding really took off in the early 1900s, spreading to the rest of the world.
In fact, my favorite phone game, Zen Koi, is one where you breed koi until you collect them all, eventually ascending them to dragon-hood. You may also be familiar with Magikarp, the carp-like Pokemon that's pretty much useless until it evolves into Gyrados, the huge water dragon.
Koi are associated with joy, luck, beauty, both friendly and romantic love, strength, and courage. There's a lot to get into with them.
But the koi episode of the podcast is specifically in conversation with a legend from the late Han Dynasty. In it, a school of golden koi were swimming upstream in the Yellow River, trying to leap the waterfall at the end to reach the Dragon's Gate. Most of the koi were not brave or strong enough to make it up the waterfall, but it's said that after a hundred years of trying, one finally succeeded and was transformed into a dragon. Thus, koi are symbols of perseverance, determination, and destiny fulfilled.
These are, of course, virtues that people want and identify with, so koi images appear all over the place. Koi tattoos are super popular. Koinobori, windsocks that look like koi, are usually flown over houses in Japan in late April and early May in celebration of Children's Day on May 5th, which is part of Golden Week. Putting up a koinobori is a way to wish for the koi-like virtues of perseverance and determination onto your children.
May 7, 2019
More on the Tanuki
Season 2, Episode 3: The Weird Raccoon
The tanuki is a creature from Japan. Unlike most magical creatures, the tanuki actually exists. It's also called a raccoon dog, and it's a member of the Canidae family, closely related to foxes and wolves While the real life tanuki is a pretty basic animal, and does basic animal things like find food and hibernate, in folklore they're yokai (a kind of Japanese monster) called Bake-danuki (monster raccoon dog) and are attributed with magical powers. They are tricksters and have the ability to shape change. Long ago, the folklore around the tanuki was influenced by Chinese fox-lore, and the tanukis were evil creatures that should be feared. However, over the years, the image of the tanuki became more playful and goofy. Now, unlike so many yokai, the tanuki use their shape-shifting powers not to tempt people and then murder them, but to make them look stupid. They also bring generosity, cheer, and prosperity.
Some examples of the kinds of hi-jinx they get up to:
There was a tanuki that hung out on a bridge, and whenever someone would cross the bridge, it would shave their hair. There was a tanuki that disguised itself as a child and asked for piggy-back rides, because it loved piggy-back rides. There was a tnuki who carried an umbrella and offered to share with people who didn't have their own umbrella, but once underneath, they'd be whisked away to another world. There was a tanuki that disguised itself as a wine bottle, and when people tried to drink from it, it would roll around so they couldn't catch it. There was a tanuki that disguised itself as a piece of cloth on the side of the road, and when people tried to pick it up, it'd fly out of reach. Once, a tanuki changed into the shape of a monk and lived at the temple for years, until one day it fell asleep outside and accidentally revealed its true form. The other monks figured that he'd been a pretty good monk and didn't kick him out.
But tanuki are also symbols of prosperity. Their big bellies are reminiscent of happy Buddhist monks (who used to be considered charlatans, who would deceive you, so the imagery works pretty well in bridging the more wily aspects of the tanuki with its cheerful side.) Tanuki statues are set outside restaurants and bars, or in the windows. These statues show the tanuki with a straw hat, a bottle of sake in one hand and a promissory note in the other. They're often depicted to have huge scrotums. Tanuki do have rather noticble testicles, but the exaggeration in some art borders on the absurd. This is because tanuki fur is so strong that gold workers used to wrap the gold in tanuki fur before hammering it down into gold leaf. In Japanese, a small ball of gold is called a "kin no tama," and testicles are "kintama." Since the two phrases sound so similar, a tanuki's testicles are a symbol of good financial fortune and stretching your money.
There's a 1994 Studio Ghibli movie called Pom Poko, where a bunch of tanuki use their rascal-y trickster powers to stop deforestation. In Mario games, Mario can put on the tanuki suit and then fly. There's much debate over if Mario is turned into a tanuki, or if he's wearing a tanuki's skin, but I think the answer to that one is obvious.
For the podcast, I borrow mostly from folklore of the US and Europe. This is because I try to not to let podcast episodes take too long to write, and I believe that the folklore of other cultures requires and deserves research. What do their stories mean in the cultural context that produced them? What did these stories mean when they first appeared--what were people afraid of? How do people familiar with these creature relate to them: Do they think they're goofy, are they sacred, are they scary, are they obscure or part of daily life? Failing to grasp the answers to these questions does a disservice to the monster, the folklore, and the people. And as much as I wish I could be more diverse with the monsters, I'd prefer to have them absent than to do a poor job portraying them. It's a trade off that I struggle with.
There are only a few instances of monsters outside Eurocentric traditions where I've felt I had a good enough grasp to write about them. The tanuki is one. (The koi is another.) And I hope I did this goofy critter justice.
The tanuki is a creature from Japan. Unlike most magical creatures, the tanuki actually exists. It's also called a raccoon dog, and it's a member of the Canidae family, closely related to foxes and wolves While the real life tanuki is a pretty basic animal, and does basic animal things like find food and hibernate, in folklore they're yokai (a kind of Japanese monster) called Bake-danuki (monster raccoon dog) and are attributed with magical powers. They are tricksters and have the ability to shape change. Long ago, the folklore around the tanuki was influenced by Chinese fox-lore, and the tanukis were evil creatures that should be feared. However, over the years, the image of the tanuki became more playful and goofy. Now, unlike so many yokai, the tanuki use their shape-shifting powers not to tempt people and then murder them, but to make them look stupid. They also bring generosity, cheer, and prosperity.
Some examples of the kinds of hi-jinx they get up to:
There was a tanuki that hung out on a bridge, and whenever someone would cross the bridge, it would shave their hair. There was a tanuki that disguised itself as a child and asked for piggy-back rides, because it loved piggy-back rides. There was a tnuki who carried an umbrella and offered to share with people who didn't have their own umbrella, but once underneath, they'd be whisked away to another world. There was a tanuki that disguised itself as a wine bottle, and when people tried to drink from it, it would roll around so they couldn't catch it. There was a tanuki that disguised itself as a piece of cloth on the side of the road, and when people tried to pick it up, it'd fly out of reach. Once, a tanuki changed into the shape of a monk and lived at the temple for years, until one day it fell asleep outside and accidentally revealed its true form. The other monks figured that he'd been a pretty good monk and didn't kick him out.
But tanuki are also symbols of prosperity. Their big bellies are reminiscent of happy Buddhist monks (who used to be considered charlatans, who would deceive you, so the imagery works pretty well in bridging the more wily aspects of the tanuki with its cheerful side.) Tanuki statues are set outside restaurants and bars, or in the windows. These statues show the tanuki with a straw hat, a bottle of sake in one hand and a promissory note in the other. They're often depicted to have huge scrotums. Tanuki do have rather noticble testicles, but the exaggeration in some art borders on the absurd. This is because tanuki fur is so strong that gold workers used to wrap the gold in tanuki fur before hammering it down into gold leaf. In Japanese, a small ball of gold is called a "kin no tama," and testicles are "kintama." Since the two phrases sound so similar, a tanuki's testicles are a symbol of good financial fortune and stretching your money.
There's a 1994 Studio Ghibli movie called Pom Poko, where a bunch of tanuki use their rascal-y trickster powers to stop deforestation. In Mario games, Mario can put on the tanuki suit and then fly. There's much debate over if Mario is turned into a tanuki, or if he's wearing a tanuki's skin, but I think the answer to that one is obvious.
For the podcast, I borrow mostly from folklore of the US and Europe. This is because I try to not to let podcast episodes take too long to write, and I believe that the folklore of other cultures requires and deserves research. What do their stories mean in the cultural context that produced them? What did these stories mean when they first appeared--what were people afraid of? How do people familiar with these creature relate to them: Do they think they're goofy, are they sacred, are they scary, are they obscure or part of daily life? Failing to grasp the answers to these questions does a disservice to the monster, the folklore, and the people. And as much as I wish I could be more diverse with the monsters, I'd prefer to have them absent than to do a poor job portraying them. It's a trade off that I struggle with.
There are only a few instances of monsters outside Eurocentric traditions where I've felt I had a good enough grasp to write about them. The tanuki is one. (The koi is another.) And I hope I did this goofy critter justice.
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