"Then the third angel sounded: And a great star fell from heaven, burning like a torch, and it fell on a third of the rivers and on the springs of water. The name of the star is wormwood. A third of the waters became wormwood, and many men died from the water, because it was made bitter." --The Apocalypse of St. John
Wormwood, whose extract used to be a popular ingredient in many perfumes, has a strong floral and herbal flavor (and scent) that is heightened when extracted by proper distillation. Wormwood's active agent thujone is the primary ingredient in absinthe that is supposed to cause the violence and hallucinations that eventually got it banned.
With this in mind, we have been searching for six months for a large enough supply of absinthe for the Los Angeles Lunar Society Christmas party, which will take place on the night of the full moon, Thursday, December 15th at our Malibu clubhouse. [Brief aside to new initiates: you think you are the only one who thinks it is funny to give your Secret Santa a sex toy, but FYI, one year we had an actual pile of them, and guess who the neighbors saw carrying three dildos out to the dumpster the next day? That's right, yours truly, the Lunar Society's straight-laced librarian, registrar and sergeant-at-arms. So give a dildo if you must, but know that there are enough dicks in the Los Angeles Lunar Society already and that you will be disposing of any superfluous ones yourself.]
Since we Lunarians are big paraphenalia buffs, we have purchased many antique silver collectors' absinthe spoons with our holiday party funds. These gorgeous implements are used to hold the sugar cube that we will drizzle water onto and into the gorgeous green liquid resting in the bottom of our glasses. A particularly lovely specimen from our new collection is pictured above. Should be an apocalyptic Lunar Christmas party this year. Thanks to Lunar member Edward W. for donating the money for the absinthe spoons, glasses and carafes, and to Eleanor for donating the geese we will roast on the beach under pleine lune.
Some nights the wolves are silent and only the moon howls, it has been said, and we certainly don't expect any less. See you Thursday.