The following Moon names came into popular use more recently and do not refer to any specific month’s Moon:
Historically, names for the full or new Moons were used to track the seasons. Today, we think of Moon names as “nicknames” for the Moon.
The Harvest Moon appears from September 28 to 30!
The Moon will appear full for about three days around this time, from Thursday through Saturday.
This year, the brilliant Harvest Moon first appears in the evening of Thursday, September 28, before reaching peak illumination at 5:58 A.M. EDT on Friday, September 29
One thing that sets the Harvest Moon apart from other full Moon names is that it’s not associated with a specific month, as the others are.
Instead, the Harvest Moon relates to the timing of the autumnal equinox (September 23, 2023), with the full Moon that occurs nearest to the equinox being the one to take on the name “Harvest Moon.”
This means that the Harvest Moon can occur in either September or October, depending on how the lunar cycle lines up with the Gregorian calendar.
The Harvest Moon does typically occur in September, taking the place of the full Corn Moon.
However, it occasionally lands in October instead, replacing the full Hunter’s Moon.
For several evenings, the moonrise comes soon after sunset. This results in an abundance of bright moonlight early in the evening, which was a traditional aid to farmers and crews harvesting their summer-grown crops. Hence, it’s called the “Harvest” Moon!
There are just a little over 12 complete Moon cycles every year, on average (there being about 29.53 days in a synodic month). The Harvest Moon isn’t like the other Moons.
Additionally, the Harvest Moon rises at sunset and then will rise very near sunset for several nights in a row because the difference is at a yearly minimum. It may almost seem as if there are full Moons multiple nights in a row!
While September’s full Moon is usually known as the Harvest Moon, if October’s full Moon happens to occur closer to the equinox than September’s, it takes on the name “Harvest Moon” instead. In this case, September’s full Moon is referred to as the Corn Moon.
This time of year—late summer into early fall—corresponds with the time of harvesting corn in much of the northern United States. For this reason, a number of Native American peoples traditionally used some variation of the name “Corn Moon” to refer to the Moon of either August or September. Examples include Corn Maker Moon (Western Abenaki) and Corn Harvest Moon (Dakota).
Three men go for a meal in a restaurant. At the end of the meal the waiter brings them the bill and it comes to £30. Each man puts in a ten pound note. The waiter rings it up and then realizes he made a mistake and the bill was actually for £25.
The waiter brings back five pound coins. As five doesn’t divide into three very well, the men take one pound each and leave two pounds as a tip which the waiter pockets.
Each man has now paid 9 pounds, which adds up to £27. The waiter has 2 pounds in his pocket. That adds up to £29.
What happened to the extra pound from the original £30?
Try as hard as you like to make the formula for that work and there will always be one pound missing.
The answer is that there never was an extra pound.
The three men paid £27 and the waiter took two leaving £25.
The way the conundrum is worded leads you to believe that there was £27 with £2 added to give £29, and therefore one pound short of £30, with £1 missing.
It is a good example of how easy it is to mislead somebody’s thinking so they mathematically “prove" something to be other than it is.
all of the so-called sins, as they all lead to physical, mental, or emotional gratification!
indulgence instead of abstinence!
vengeance instead of turning the other cheek!
vital existence instead of spiritual pipe dreams!
undefiled wisdom instead of hypocritical self-deceit!
kindness to those who deserve it instead of love wasted on ingrates!
man as just another animal, sometimes better, more often worse than those that walk on all-fours, who, because of his “divine spiritual and intellectual development,” has become the most vicious animal of all!
responsibility to the responsible instead of concern for psychic vampires!
I am the Way into the City Of Woe
I am the Way to a forsaken people
I am the Way into Eternal sorrow
Abandon all Hope Ye who enter here
In Dante Alighieri's The Divine Comedy, the City of Dis (Italian: Dite Italian pronunciation: [ˈdiːte]) encompasses the sixth through the ninth circles of Hell.
Moated by the river Styx, the fortified city encloses the whole of Lower or Nether Hell.
To ancient Roman mythology, Dis Pater ("Father Dis") is the ruler of the underworld. In the sixth book of Virgil's Aeneid (one of the principal influences on Dante in his depiction of Hell), the hero Aeneas enters the "desolate halls and vacant realm of Dis".
His guide, the Sibyl, corresponds in The Divine Comedy to Virgil, the guide of "Dante" as the speaker of the poem. The descriptions in the Aeneid of "mighty Dis's walls... wide buildings girt by a triple wall", gave Dante the impetus for his later and more formal description of the city of Dis.
There is a drop from the sixth circle to the three rings of the seventh circle, then again to the ten rings of the eighth circle, and, at the bottom, to the icy ninth circle.
The iron walls of Dis are guarded by fallen angels, the Furies, and Medusa. Dante emphasizes the character of the place as a city by describing its architectural features: towers, gates, walls, ramparts, bridges, and moats. It is thus an antithesis to the heavenly city, as for instance described by St. Augustine in his book City of God.
Among these structures are mosques, "the worship places of the most dangerous enemies of medieval Christendom." The presence of mosques probably also recalls the reality of Jerusalem in Dante's own time, where gilded domes dominated the skyline.
Before he reaches the City, in the eight to ninth cantos, Dante encounters the unbaptised and then those who sinned by self-indulgence—the lustful, the gluttons, the misers and spendthrifts—and then at the outskirts of the red-hot walls of the City of Dis are the wrathful and those of ill-will.
From this point on we find sinners who acted out of malice and wickedness. Immediately within the walls of the City are Heretics like Epicurus, who, having previously disbelieved in immortality, are forever imprisoned in red-hot tombs.
Beyond are three rings of those who were violent—to others, to themselves (suicides), or to God (blasphemers).
In yet deeper gulfs within the decaying city of Dis are the last two circles, of frauds and corruptors, and finally the traitors.
Punished within Dis are those whose lives were marked by active-willed and obdurate, rather than venial sins: heretics, murderers, suicides, blasphemers, usurers, sodomites, panderers, seducers, flatterers, simoniacs, false prophets, barrators, hypocrites, thieves, fraudulent advisors, sowers of discord, falsifiers, and traitors. Sinners unable to control their passions offend God less than these, whose lives were driven by malizia ("malice, wicked intent"):
There is perhaps a distinction between malizia as the characteristic of circles seven and eight, and the matta bestialitade, "inhuman wickedness", of circle nine, which punishes those who threaten "the most basic civic, familial, and religious foundations of happiness".
I sit in one of the dives
On Fifty-second Street
Uncertain and afraid
As the clever hopes expire
Of a low dishonest decade:
Waves of anger and fear
Circulate over the bright
And darkened lands of the earth,
Obsessing our private lives;
The unmentionable odour of death
Offends the September night.
Accurate scholarship can
Unearth the whole offence
From Luther until now
That has driven a culture mad,
Find what occurred at Linz,
What huge imago made
A psychopathic god:
I and the public know
What all schoolchildren learn,
Those to whom evil is done
Do evil in return.
Exiled Thucydides knew
All that a speech can say
About Democracy,
And what dictators do,
The elderly rubbish they talk
To an apathetic grave;
Analysed all in his book,
The enlightenment driven away,
The habit-forming pain,
Mismanagement and grief:
We must suffer them all again.
Into this neutral air
Where blind skyscrapers use
Their full height to proclaim
The strength of Collective Man,
Each language pours its vain
Competitive excuse:
But who can live for long
In an euphoric dream;
Out of the mirror they stare,
Imperialism's face
And the international wrong.
Faces along the bar
Cling to their average day:
The lights must never go out,
The music must always play,
All the conventions conspire
To make this fort assume
The furniture of home;
Lest we should see where we are,
Lost in a haunted wood,
Children afraid of the night
Who have never been happy or good.
The windiest militant trash
Important Persons shout
Is not so crude as our wish:
What mad Nijinsky wrote
About Diaghilev
Is true of the normal heart;
For the error bred in the bone
Of each woman and each man
Craves what it cannot have,
Not universal love
But to be loved alone.
From the conservative dark
Into the ethical life
The dense commuters come,
Repeating their morning vow;
"I will be true to the wife,
I'll concentrate more on my work,"
And helpless governors wake
To resume their compulsory game:
Who can release them now,
Who can reach the deaf,
Who can speak for the dumb?
All I have is a voice
To undo the folded lie,
The romantic lie in the brain
Of the sensual man-in-the-street
And the lie of Authority
Whose buildings grope the sky:
There is no such thing as the State
And no one exists alone;
Hunger allows no choice
To the citizen or the police;
We must love one another or die.
Defenceless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame.
