Iomante

Iomante (イオマンテ) is the name of an Ainu ceremony. The word literally means "to send something/someone off", and generally refers to the Ainu brown bear sacrifice. However, in some Ainu villages, it is a Blakiston's fish owl, rather than a bear, that is sacrificed. In Japanese, the ceremony is known as "sending off the bear" (熊送り, kumaokuri) or, sometimes, "the bear festival" (熊祭, kumamatsuri). The ceremony is perhaps the most famous (and controversial) part of Ainu culture.

Hokkaido encouraged local governments to abolish the Iomante in 1955, but the circular notice was abolished in April 2007, because the Ministry of the Environment of Japan announced that animal ceremonies were generally regarded as an exception of the animal rights law of Japan in October 2006.

Trappers set out to the bear caves at the end of winter, while the bears are still hibernating. If they find a newborn cub, they kill the mother and take the cub back to the village, where they raise it indoors, as if it were one of their own children. It is said that they even provide the cub with their own breast milk. When the cub grows larger, they take it outdoors, and put it into a small pen made of logs. Throughout their lives, the bears are provided with high-quality food. The cubs are treated as, and traditionally believed to be, gods.

V01d

We drown in the bile
Of a frustrated birth
A knife grows in every back
Jaws clenched and tongue bitten
These are all wasted words
These are all a wastrels words
Meanings you will never find
Hidden, lurking between the lines
We are revolving to
Our drain
We are revolving to
Our drain
I've lifted my chin
And ignored the noose
But there is gravity
In the centre of the void
The seed of its end
In every creation
Of a sullen cremation
Heels in the tug of tide
We shudder on shore
Lands end
And what have we got?
Nothing but memory
Success or failure?
Gathering our rags
We walk into the waves
We are revolving to
Our drain
We are revolving to
Our drain
The brightest light
Will gutter, quicker
The wax will stifle the wick
As we burn
For the yearning ember
There is nobility in flame
For the faltering fire
There is only shame
We feel the whine
Sharply, in our teeth
And all our pasts
Chained to our ankles
This is not another
Slit wrist suicide
Its our future drowning
In the bile of cyanide
We are revolving to
Our drain
We are revolving to
Our drain
We drown in the bile
Of a frustrated birth
A knife grows in every back
Jaws clenched and tongue bitten
Drowning in the currents
Of another fleeting void
At the mercy of sleep
The brightest light
Will gutter, quicker
The wax will stifle the wick
As we burn
For the yearning ember
There is nobility in flame
For the faltering fire
There is only shame
Only shame
For the faltering fire
There is only shame