18 Rabbit

This post is a pause and reset for Good Friday and the beginning of the new advertising year. Shop with my blog supporters, y’all, and consider becoming one toi-même.

The author of this text was Mayan; he is a skull on a stela of Uaxaclajuun Ub’aah K’awiil. I who narrate am only a performer of the submerged codex.

We do not have an original version of the ancient text. I am interpreting fragments remembered from the oral tradition and a carved stela not yet understood by scholars.

I live in Bayou Maringouin, or on the Mosquito Coast, or I am Miskito, and this is not an academic blog even if I do academic work and talk about it sometimes. This is a post-Katrina blog and I am pre-Mexican.

The blog is offshore and invites you to peruse its drilling links. I am from Pointe Coupée, Louisiana, and the blog and I  are both mixed Creoles.

All settings to which we refer are not single places. The events discussed are versions of some things I have seen, but mostly stories I have heard from a variety of eras.

I was Professor Zero, and then Z-Xiuhtecuhtli. I may become the (perhaps apocryphal) Rabbit Scribe. My secret name has not been revealed, and my most amazing stories have not yet been told.

Axé.


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