I wonder if the snakes of my local trails fear and worship me.

A lot of religious worship and rituals seem to rise from a misunderstanding of something. The Aztecs practiced human sacrifice to help the sun rise. And, assuming the shows Hercules and Xena Warrior Princess were historically accurate, the Greeks had all kinds of curious reasons for the gods they worshiped.

When I encounter a snake on the trail, not only do I physically punish them twice in quick succession, but they must also recognize the great squeal and incantations that boom from above as the great god notices what’s underneath him.

There is also the ritualistic pumping of the legs that leads up to the encounter and then, the almost frantic jerking of the legs as if he’s trying to get his mighty feet away but can’t remember how to disengage them.

So when I consider the snake’s point of view, I can only assume they’ve made a tiny snake alter of my likeness back at the homestead. Poppa snake makes the baby snakes do their nightly prayers to the great two wheeled god so he may spare them.

It’s nice to know Hercules and I have something in common.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, June 19th, 2007 at 7:01 am and is filed under Crooked. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.