This is the result of one of the most interesting rituals that occurs when a tribe of infants gather together in a typically debased, unruly celebration of the birthday of one of their own.
At the epicentre of any of these celebrations is the sacrificial ritual.
In the lead up to unveiling of the symbolic, sacrificial beast, the excitement is often palpable, with tensions rising as party members become irritable at the prospect that perhaps the event might end with no such feverish dismemberment, or that they alone might miss out. This excitement continually grows, before rising to a peak as the revelation of the plated sacrifice heralds the awesome moment.
Then, once the sacrificial object has been revealed and the formal preliminary rites and fire ceremony have been conducted, the tribe fall upon the baked beast, gorging themselves in a messy, bloodless frenzy.
Observations have revealed that the sacrifice can assume many forms, depending on the cultural origins and ideology of the tribe, yet it almost always is enveloped in an embalming, sickly sweet substance, often embellished with innumerable gaudy, edible objects.
Surprisingly, more often than not, the frenzied ritual is over in moments with the majority of the sacrifice intact, having been plucked and sucked clean with the tribe members having moved onwards in their sugar-induced delirium. No one quite understands why, but perhaps they leave this as a residual offering to appease the gods of excess. Another interesting theory is that the residual material is retained, re-embalmed and re-presented at the next tribal celebration. Indeed some have suggested that the core of the sacrifice is not edible at all, being merely a vehicle on which to present the embalming substance and decorations. I, for one think that this makes perfect sense as it conserves the tribe’s valuable resources.
The poignant irony of it all is that, no matter what the configuration of the sacrifice, generally the sole part whose consumption is guaranteed is the very same part that was the recipient of no less than 123 ml of the celebrator’s saliva during the culmination of the fire ceremony.
Interestingly, zoologists have recently argued that this feature of the ritual has its own important role in the development of shared viral immunity amongst tribe members, highlighting the fascinating interconnection between ceremonial and survival-based behavioural patterns within the tribe.
From “My Year as a Stuffed Toy: Insights from Within” by Thomas Kinder.
At the epicentre of any of these celebrations is the sacrificial ritual.
In the lead up to unveiling of the symbolic, sacrificial beast, the excitement is often palpable, with tensions rising as party members become irritable at the prospect that perhaps the event might end with no such feverish dismemberment, or that they alone might miss out. This excitement continually grows, before rising to a peak as the revelation of the plated sacrifice heralds the awesome moment.
Then, once the sacrificial object has been revealed and the formal preliminary rites and fire ceremony have been conducted, the tribe fall upon the baked beast, gorging themselves in a messy, bloodless frenzy.
Observations have revealed that the sacrifice can assume many forms, depending on the cultural origins and ideology of the tribe, yet it almost always is enveloped in an embalming, sickly sweet substance, often embellished with innumerable gaudy, edible objects.
Surprisingly, more often than not, the frenzied ritual is over in moments with the majority of the sacrifice intact, having been plucked and sucked clean with the tribe members having moved onwards in their sugar-induced delirium. No one quite understands why, but perhaps they leave this as a residual offering to appease the gods of excess. Another interesting theory is that the residual material is retained, re-embalmed and re-presented at the next tribal celebration. Indeed some have suggested that the core of the sacrifice is not edible at all, being merely a vehicle on which to present the embalming substance and decorations. I, for one think that this makes perfect sense as it conserves the tribe’s valuable resources.
The poignant irony of it all is that, no matter what the configuration of the sacrifice, generally the sole part whose consumption is guaranteed is the very same part that was the recipient of no less than 123 ml of the celebrator’s saliva during the culmination of the fire ceremony.
Interestingly, zoologists have recently argued that this feature of the ritual has its own important role in the development of shared viral immunity amongst tribe members, highlighting the fascinating interconnection between ceremonial and survival-based behavioural patterns within the tribe.
From “My Year as a Stuffed Toy: Insights from Within” by Thomas Kinder.
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