car wight Archives — The Rational Heathen

More Conversations with Bob the Car Wight

October 6, 2017 Tyra Ulfdottir Comments 0 Comment

I was walking by the SUV the other day when I saw Bob the Car Wight sitting on the hood. This time, he had a very mismatched red and green plaid coat, orange hunting cap (which suspiciously looked like the one I had lost last season), and a fuchsia scarf striped with purple. He was rubbing his hands together and blowing on gardening gloves he was wearing that were way too big for his fingers. Now, imagine this all contrasting with his blue skin. Eeek. All in all, a sight to make sore eyes.

“Whoa, Bob! Are you trying to blind me with your fashion sense?” I quipped.

Bob rubbed his hands together and blew on the gloves’ fingertips as if he were trying to get warm. “Like you know anything about fashion, mismatched girl,” he snorted. He rubbed his hands some more. “These gloves suck.”

I let the jab slide. “What, are you cold?”

“What gave you the first hint, Einstein?” Bob glared at me.

“Well normally I’d say the blue skin, but seeing as that’s normal for you, I’d guess the weird get-up.” I grinned at him. “Don’t like our weather?”

“The weather was fine until it went from summer to winter in one day.”

“Well, that’s the Rockies for you. I’d thought you’d be used to it by now since you’ve lived up here for years.”

“I’m used to garages. You know, like indoors? When are you cleaning out the garage so I can have a decent place to live?”

“It’s a little cluttered,” I admitted. “But you’re a wight. You’re supposed to be able to live damn near anywhere. Well there’s no reason why you couldn’t stay there now.”

“Herman the roof rat doesn’t like me.” Bob held up his hands. “Do you have some spare mittens?”

I pondered that for a moment. “The roof rat has a name?”

“Of course he does. Everything does. You just might not know it yet.”

“And his name is Herman?”

“Well, that was his name in a previous life.” He wiggled his fingers at me. “Mittens?”

“I’ll see what I can do. I might be able to find some for you next time I go into town.” I paused. “But Herman?”

“Yeah, Hel decided she didn’t want him in Helheim so she sent him back to live as a rat. She does that a lot with people who she really hates.”

“You mean they don’t go to Nástrǫnd and get chewed on by Níðhöggr?”

“Well, some of the really bad ones were giving the dragon gas. You wouldn’t believe how much damage to Niflheim it was causing when those farts light off. One of those set fire to Hel’s hall some years back. She really wasn’t amused.”

I laughed.

“I’m not joking. You wouldn’t believe the cussing. I think Hel invented new words just for that.” Bob shuddered. “She’s scary when she’s angry.”

“I bet,” I said. I certainly had no desire to get on Hel’s bad side. “Okay, so Herman the roof rat is being punished for..?”

“I don’t know. He won’t tell me. But he tried to goosestep in your garage.”

“Great, I have a Nazi rat.” I sighed. “Guess Hel won’t be upset when I trap his ass.”

Bob shrugged. “She’ll just send him back as another rat.”

“Great, well maybe this time he’ll go to New York City instead of here.”

“Then you’ll have no excuse for cleaning out the garage,” Bob quipped.

“I’ll get right to it.” I said, walking back to the house.

“Oh, and don’t forget the mittens!” Bob called after me.

Conversation with Bob the Car Wight

April 1, 2017 Tyra Ulfdottir Comments 0 Comment

The other day, I stumbled onto a smallish fellow sitting on the hood of my Dodge, smoking what appeared to be hand-rolled cigarette. His skin was bluish and he wore a stained blue jumpsuit, smudged with grease. It had a name tag which said Bob. He also wore a pink hat.

Normally if I saw someone sitting on my car and smoking, I’d be upset, but this guy was maybe a foot tall, if that. Blue eyes squinted at me from an impossibly wrinkled face as I walked toward him.

“You’re 1000 miles late on your oil change.” His voice sounded like gravel crunching under tires.

I halted and stared at him, taking him all in. A car wight? Good gods. And a petulant one, too. Well, at least he spoke English. “Those are guidelines. The three to five thousand miles are guidelines.”

He glared at me with some disdain. “And when was the last time you vacuumed your car? It’s not intended to haul hay.”

I frowned. “You know, it’s my car, and the goats need hay. And anyway, you’re not supposed to be smoking, you know.”

Bob, the car wight, grimaced. “Bad habit, I know. Picked it up from my Model-T days. Mike used to keep a pack or two in the old girl and I picked up the habit.” He glared at me. “You never buy cigarettes, you know.”

“Wait a second. You were the car wight to a Model-T?” I considered the little guy. Did car wights get reincarnated when their machines were crushed and melted? I never considered the possibilities.

He seemed to follow my train of thought. “Yeah, I hate switching brands, but that’s what you’ve got to do when the cars get crushed. Then, you don’t have much choice when it comes to recycling. I mean, you can hang out at the local junkyard for a while, but it gets kinda crowded with car wights, and it’s a rough neighborhood.”

“Rough?”

“Yeah, we get a lot of trolls around there.” He looked sidelongs at me. “You don’t think all the trolls ended up on the Internet, do you?”

“So you don’t hang around the junkyard with your car?”

“They crush them into these really flat pieces. A lot of car wights don’t bother with them then. So they hang out and join gangs. They really like giving junkies and other drug users bad trips.” He paused and took another drag on the cig. “But they have nothing to do, really. I’d rather follow my car and see where the pieces ended up. They recycle the metal, which often means it goes into other things. I lucked out and got a Jeep, a Chevrolet Camaro, and a Dodge. Poor Jenny got her car recycled into a building support. Tough luck.”

“Hmm,” I said. “Couldn’t she just find something else?”

“I suppose, but it was the frame for a Starbucks, and she’s now wired all the time. She doesn’t want to leave. The manager keeps accusing the employees of drinking all the coffee.”

“I can see that,” I said. “So, why have you decided to grace me with your presence? Certainly not to tell me about changing the oil, or to stop me from picking up a few bales of hay every few days?”

“Well, those are valid reasons,” Bob said. “And don’t forget the cigs. But I thought I’d show up since you’ve written two pieces about us.”

“About you? You mean the car wights?”

“Yeah.” He smiled impishly. “You got it wrong.”

“What wrong?”

“Car wights. We really don’t exist. Just ask the recons. Their arch-heathens wouldn’t have believed in us, so therefore we can’t exist.”

“Then how do I explain you?”

He shrugged and took another drag on the cigarette. “Hey, you claim you’re the rational one. You tell me.”

“Good point.” I considered the little guy. “Suppose I said I don’t believe in you?”

“Are you trying to prove a negative?” Bob chuckled. “You could say you’re delusional, and in which case, you might be right.” He paused. “But no. Try again.”

“Well, lack of evidence…”

“Absence of evidence isn’t evidence of absence.”

“But the burden of proof is on the person who asserts it as truth,” I replied.

“But you see me. You talk to me. That means I’m here.” Bob flicked the ash away from his cigarette.

“Hey,” I said. “You don’t need to start a fire, imaginary or not.”

“Good point,” Bob said. “Got an ashtray?”

It was my turn to look askance at him. “I don’t smoke. Remember?”

“Good for you. Don’t start. It’s a nasty habit.” He pinched the cigarette out with his fingers. “So, since you can see me, you can tell the naysayers out there that there are car wights.”

“They won’t believe me.”

He shrugged. “I’ll talk to my buddy, Guido.”

“Guido? A car wight named Guido?”

“Who else would hang out with a Ferrari?”

He had a point. I had to concede that. “What about?”

Bob’s eyes held a wicked gleam. “Guido can talk to their wights. We have a nasty habit of causing break downs at the most inopportune times. Especially when people dis the car wights.” He paused. “Which reminds me, when are you getting the oil changed again?”

I sighed. “Okay, I’ll make an appointment.”

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The Wight Stuff: A Case for Car Wights

February 13, 2017 Tyra Ulfdottir Comments 0 Comment

“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” — Arthur C.

Clarke.

Occasionally, I write something that I think is controversial, but ends up being controversial in ways I never expected. Last week’s post created a bit of a kerfuffle over, not the concept that we are doing blots wrong, but the idea that there could be car wights.

Seriously? Seriously?

I’m not one to shy away from a good controversial discussion, especially when I think there is much to do about nothing, as Shakespeare would put it. So, I’m going to dedicate this blog to the lowly car wight, who just might have been slighted by those who think it could not exist.

Ready for some fun? Let’s go…

First Understand Whence I Speak

Before I even get started in the entire “are their car wights?” debate, let’s talk about my own beliefs on the subject of wights. I am agnostic when it comes to wights. I haven’t met one directly, and while I’ve had some pretty freaky shit happen with stuff, I can chalk it up to something natural or at least some root cause that is probable.

So the argument of whether wights exist is largely an entertaining discussion to me. It also means I look at what could exist and not necessarily what does exist. So, let’s get started.

What’s a Wight, Really?

When we look at legends and lore, we get a pretty interesting view of how our ancestors looked at the world. The world was full of beings, seen and unseen, that either helped, harmed, or ignored humans. We can point to etins/jotun, trolls, alfs (elves), dwarves, and various nature sprites and come up with a statement, along with the Anglo Saxon definition of wight, to include creatures and things. Now, for the sake of argument, we can narrow that definition down to supernatural creatures since many of the folks who dislike the idea of a car wight are stating that cars can’t have wights.

I would narrow it down further to supernatural creatures that inhabit only natural places, but this doesn’t hold true for wights. Some wights don’t live in rocks or trees or forests. Some live in barrows which are manmade, some live on farms and in houses, and some have been known to travel on boats.

Types of Wights

There are almost as many types of wights as there are ordinary critters in the world. Not all the same rules apply to these wights either, nor have they all come from the same place. The alfar or alfs may be our male ancestors, just like the disir are our female ancestors. We have ghosts, trolls, werewolves, and zombies in our beliefs (call them what you will in Norse, if it makes you feel better.), so, we have quite the variety. Some, most notably the alfs, can’t touch iron. Others, such as the dwarves and etins work and use iron quite handily.

I bring this up because the obvious problems with some wights and iron. It would obviously not be the type of wight who inhabited a car, so let’s rule them out right then and there. Some wights seem to be bound to objects; some, like the huldufolk in Iceland, seem to be able to move out of rocks when told that a highway may be going through.

We can also take a look at magical items, including swords, and consider them wights of sorts because they seem to have their own will. In these cases, swords that are imbued with will and spirits can certainly be constructs as well as wights. Why do I bring these up? This is important to consider when deciding if a car is a wight or not. We can’t look at one thing that matches the wight criteria and exclude others simply because we don’t like the idea. The swords have undergone the blacksmith’s fire in order to become something that humans can use. Cars simply undergo a more modern forging and stamping.

Taking this One Step Further: Car Wights

Okay, so we know wights can inhabit human constructs, some can tolerate iron, some can travel and inhabit boats, and some aren’t so strictly bound to objects. Okay, then. Let’s look at the car, shall we?

Human construct? — Yes, but so are farms, graves, and homes.
Iron in it? — Yes, but many wights are good with that.
Natural materials? — Materials are made from atoms and molecules, many mined and reworked to served specific purposes. But yes, it came from nature at one time.
Gives gifts for gifts? — Yes.
Personality? – Yes.

But what about magic? As the science fiction writer, Arthur C. Clarke said, “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” What would our Heathen ancestors think of our technology if they were to step into our time? What would they think of a vehicle that has no horses or oxen to pull it? I submit to you, if we didn’t teach them how cars work (teaching them would be a tough thing given the difference in culture and education), they’re likely to think it was some type of magic. Hence they would be considered supernatural creatures.

So, are there Cars Wights?

By the definition of what I’ve established as a wight, I’ve managed to at least suggest that cars could have wights, or even be wights. They have personalities. They have quirks. We name them. We give them gifts (fuel, care) in exchange for their gift (transportation). They are made from components of this earth. Obviously the car wights aren’t alfs, given the metal, but cars could carry any of the huldufolk that could tolerate iron. And our ancestors would think they were magical. That qualifies a car as a wight, or at least something that would have a wight in it.

On of my patrons brought up the fact that cars don’t have free will. I’ll grant you that. But I’m not certain all wights have free will either. And given the fact that free will may be an illusion anyway, it’s a moot point. But a point that may or may not be relevant to the discussion. Some wights are tightly bound to their homes; others are not. So, they do have to operate within the confines of their set parameters.

So, there may be car wights; there may not. I’ve at least given a good case for why there might be. Whether you accept them or not is your choice.

Airplane Wights

As a postscript, I have to bring up airplane wights. Why? Because airmen in Great Britain during WWI had claimed to see gremlins damaging airplanes. What’s more, Charles Lindbergh claimed to have seen some sort of gremlin that kept him awake during his transoceanic flight. If gremlins aren’t our modern day version of wights, I don’t know what is.
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Blots: Are We Doing Them Wrong?

February 8, 2017 Tyra Ulfdottir Comments 0 Comment

I’ve been racking my brain about what to write this week. So, naturally, the idea comes to me while I’m feeding my goats and other sundry critters. Heathens do a lot of offerings and blots, but are they the right ones? And can we scientifically talk about “offerings” in the context of a more enlightened age? Actually, I think we can, and I know I’m going to ruffle a few feathers with this, so hang on.

Let’s Talk About Wights

One of the critters we give offerings to are the wights. Wikipedia states:

Wight is an English word, from Old English wiht, and used to describe a creature or living sentient being. It is akin to Old High German wiht, meaning a creature or thing.

Now, granted, the concept of Wights in our beliefs tend to touch on those magical spirits that inhabit homes, land, and other places. Technically, our gods could be considered wights, as well as humans, as the Anglo-Saxon term actually suggested a human being.

I’m rather agnostic when it comes to wights, although I seem to have had what could be construed as possible encounters with them. But for the sake of argument, I’ll talk wights like I believe in them.

Your Car Wight

Okay, with me so far? So, let’s say the wights are the essence of some sort of “thing,” whether it is a tree, stone, a piece of land, or whatever is around us. We can consider animals as part of the “wights,” in my not so humble opinion, and we may be able to consider everyday objects as wights as well.

“Wait a second,” you say. “There aren’t wights when it comes to computers, dishes, or cars.” Oh, I would heartily disagree. If you’ve ever worked on cars, airplanes, computers, or some other mechanical device, or operated them for any length of time, you damn well know each of them have their own distinct personality. You can drive five of the very same model and same year of vehicle and get a different impression of each. Even from the factory.

Now, you may argue that cars obtain their “personality” from the persons who assembled it on a particular day, the flaws in the parts they might have, and the owners they have. Okay, so how is this different from something living? We obtain our basic genetic code and personality from our parents (Mom had something to do with our assembly), the flaws we have (you have arthritis or maybe a healed broken bone?), and the experience and care we receive growing up. Hmmm. That sounds like there are correlations here.

“But my car isn’t sentient!” you say. “It’s a man made construct!” I’d agree with you, only to a point. Everything we see and use has been created from the same natural materials that came from stars. The metal that makes up the car was mined. The fuel it uses is from plants and animals that rotted millions of years ago. Everything in a car — every molecule — came from nature. We did not create the mass, although we can rearrange molecules and change them into different compounds. So, if you subscribe to wights at all, you have to consider your car is a wight.

Does My Car Need Offerings?

This is a silly question, but one that you’ll have to look at seriously. We certainly do make “blots” to our cars. We even have some very prescribed rituals for making sure they are satisfied and will give us a gift in return for our gifts.

Our frequent blots to our cars: we go to the gas station for fuel. We offer our hard-earned tokens that symbolize our energy equation (money) in exchange for other energy (fuel), and we have a special requirement for how to provide the offering (open the fuel cap, prepay at the pump, insert the nozzle, etc.) Less frequent blots: changing the oil, rotating the tires, getting a tune up, etc. Often, these blots occur at a particular seasonal time: change summer tires to winter tires in the fall, change winter tires to summer tires in the spring, tune up the car late spring for summer trips, etc.

We offer these “gifts” in exchange for our car’s gift: transportation. Still don’t believe the car is a wight? People talk to them all the time. They name their cars. They grow attachments to them. Some people trust their cars better than they trust their spouses. I remember back in college friends comparing the top end speed of their Volkswagen Beetles. Same era and virtually the same cars, yet they were very different.

Now, did these wights talk back or go rescue your ass when you got stuck with a bad date? Of course not. That’s not within their operating parameters. But they have quirks and behaviors you can’t ignore (especially when they hate cold weather).

Let’s Take This One Step Further

So, if you’re with me that cars and computers and airplanes can be wights, then it’s not a farfetched conclusion to look at what we give them in return for gifts. We give them something they need in order to perform properly. When I look at my goats, I know I need to feed them hay and minerals plus give them water, and assuming the goat kidded, I will get milk in return. Gift for a gift. Now, let’s look at our nature wights and our gods. This now brings me to the question: if we give offerings, what are we giving the gods and nature Wights that they need?

In other words:

What the fuck does a god or land wight need with mead?

See my problem? We could make up some woo-woo stuff about the essence strengthening the land wight or the god appreciating the sacrifice. But I’m not sure that really works. In fact, I would argue that it may not do anything for the land wight. And a god? If a god is the essence of what he or she represents, I’m wondering if sacrificing things that have no bearing on what the god is would even be appreciated.

Now I may be full of shit here. But I notice that more often than not the gods favor those in particular areas who have made a fair amount of effort toward whatever they look to gain. Sure, there is blind, dumb luck like those who win who play the lottery, but with the exception of maybe the Lokeans, most of us don’t depend on randomness in our lives.

So What Would Be an Appropriate Offering to the Gods and

Wights? (Or would Thor like a Tesla Coil?)

If we take the gods as personified metaphors, then we need to look at their function and see what strengthens their role. Wisdom and creativity are two things that Odin would like. Tyr is obviously the god of laws, so doing something toward upholding law and order is appropriate. But then I start getting silly and seeing within my mind’s eye Thor’s glee at a Tesla coil. Yes, somehow, I think he likes those.

When it comes to wights, the offering should be appropriate to the wight. If we can, we need to understand what makes that wight and that particular environment thrive. That might mean clearing out noxious weeds on a piece of land, or maybe providing water during a drought, but in all honesty, I believe that if there are wights, wights are limited by the physical constructs they cling to. That means that they can only do what is prescribed by their form. A tree wight, for example, can only do things that trees do — in the relation of gifts and giving. It can accept things that the tree can use, and it can provide what the tree can provide. Anything else is asking something beyond it’s reasoning. It’s like asking a dog to explain particle physics to you. Assuming the dog knows particle physics (which, with the exception of a couple I know, don’t), the dog can’t tell us that he knows because he can’t speak our language due to lack of a soft palate, shape of the tongue, and possibly the inability to understand English. (Although most dogs I know have a limited human vocabulary.) So, I suspect is the problem with asking the wrong thing from the wights.

So, Where am I Going with this?

So, am I telling you to stop laying out offerings? No. Am I telling you that my way is the only way? No. Am I thinking that we’re doing blots wrong? Maybe. We got the concept of offerings from our ancestors, who may or may not have had an understanding of what the gods and wights wanted/needed. After all, while there are many good things we learned from our ancestors, our ancestors got shit wrong all the time, especially when it came to science. So they could’ve just anthropomorphized the gods and wights and assumed they wanted things that people want. But do the gods have needs that we as mortals can satisfy?

And then the question remains is, are they at all interested in what we give them? I mean, Odin doesn’t need Twinkies. (Neither do I, but no one sends a package my direction, either.) It may simply be the act of giving the gods something we value that works, and not necessarily the item. I can accept that. But I do ponder the implications of today’s musings and wonder if we’re going down the wrong path with our blots.

Then again, the whole idea is the goats’ fault, since I was feeding them. You can blame them.
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