In the name of the Father

The Great Sun, generated through Midjourney.

The father of all fathers, the Dyḗus ph₂tḗr, has his fundamental attributes held within Dyḗus/Dyews. Many of these attributes embedded within the word itself in an esoteric fashion. The word appears to be a contraction of an ancient compound which has a variety of related aspects associated with the attributes of later cults.

The first factor is the initial dental within Dyḗus, of which there are three forms the term holds within it. The first form is Deh₂ or dā, and this means to divide. The second is De-, which is a demonstrative stem, and is used at the base of preposition and adverbs; creating words such as “to” in English. The final form is Deh₁ or dē, which means to bind.

The second factor is -yḗus/-yews. There are about four related factors, all tying into later cultic aspects, which we will have to do a deeper dive into:

The first is yeu-/(h₂)yeu-, which is defined as a vital force, vigor and youthful energy. This root yeu-/(h₂)yeu- is shared with aiw, which itself derives from the root ā̆i- meaning to burn or to shine, becoming ai̯os, which is to mean the light of day, morning. It is also where the words aion and eon, for eternal/perpetual time derives. There seems to be some amount of metathesis and different a-coloring of the vowel between aiw and yeu. Pokorny has this root set as i̯eu, which is the same root for the word yoke and yoga, yielding an additional action of joining or yoking together of a thing and another thing. Interestingly, Pokorny likewise has ei as the root of the word yeh₂r which becomes year, which may confirm the aforementioned metathesis and a-coloring to the vowel, as the association with time is of note here.

The second is yewes/i̯eu̯os, which refers to law, and the pronunciation of ritual formula. Implying that there is an order, or specific structure to the speech of the deity, and that the deity is a judge and a ritualist. We can take this to mean that the deity is the one who judges and established an order that is created, and like in certain tales, seems to speak it into being.

The third is yewo/i̯eu̯o, which refers to a grain, which is most likely barley, being a common grain in the region, and a frequent offering to the skyfather in many different cultures. It implies the quality of growth, and life, which is one of his fundamental features, given that Dyḗus/Dyews refers specifically to the heavens during the day; the sun as the primary object, being the fundamental force of growth. In addition to this, the word yeuə/i̯eu means to mix or blend food, surely referring to the blending of grain.

The fourth, is yeh₂-/yā, which means to seek, request or desire. It is the origin of the word yeh₂g/yag, which means to worship, or to sacrifice. In the ancient Vedic sense, this was usually by way of a sacrificial fire and was done at specific points during the year, according to cultural mandates. The word yeh₁/yē, means to throw something or impel one to do something, and in the ritual sense, the offerings of a deity were traditionally thrown into the ritual fire to implore the deity to do something. Such is the case with the agnihotra, homa/haoma and havan fires.

Through the analysis of these words and the name of the deity, we can discern that Dyḗus/Dyews holds a much deeper emphasis on the nature of the deity, rather than simply a word for the sky or heaven. The deity was not some distant operator, the deity is the operation itself and was intrinsically linked with the reality the ancients experienced.

With regard to the context of the deity, it refers to the light and movement of the sun and of heaven itself, which the ancients were well acquainted with. The deity is the judge of the world-law, which constitutes that movement of sun and heaven. He is conductor of the ritual of reality, and like the deity, the ancients developed intricate systems of ritual. Primarily based on the divisions the year, which are bound or joined together in a specific way as the seasons. To them, this was eternal, and the deity established all features of the world, putting them in their proper place, governing all.

This governance can be readily seen through the term ph₂tḗr, which derives from peh₂-, meaning to herd, protect and nourish. As a father herds, protects and nourishes his flock and family, so too is the order of reality is herded, protected, and nourished by the deity. On earth as it is in heaven, if you will.

Through the human action of ritual, the cycle was viewed as being sustained, as they were done at the specific times of the year that were established by the deity. This ritual action sustained their connection with the deity and reality, thus sustained their society. The laws established by the deity subsequently established the laws of humanity as we operate within and in accordance to those laws put in place by the deity.

The name of the father says it all, and so much more.

Notes on the nature of God — the roots of θεός

As I have covered the word “God” in previous posts/articles, the word θεός is one of the oldest words for “God” in the Ancient Greek religion, and it carried over into the early Christian traditions, and the Greek Orthodox Church. It is also one of my personal favorites in terms of etymological depth and fundamental meaning.

θεός in Ancient Greek derived from the Proto-Hellenic term tʰehós, and likewise from Proto-Indo-European dʰéh₁s. This word has the conventional meaning of “deity” or “god”. In the Greek sense, the nature of θεός had no end, as being ἀθάνατος, or “undying”. θεός has also historically been used for a ruler, king or a magistrate.

The word could be attributed to anything that resembled divinity or could be likened to divinity. The term is in many respects attributed to Zeus the most, as we can see that the term θεός becomes θιός/θῐός in the Boeotian (800–300 BC) and Laconian (800–100 BC) dialects, is the same term used for Zeus, giving us some insight into how Zeus was viewed and understood.

The word θεός derives from dʰéh₁s primarily, which means “to do”, and is derived from dʰeh₁, meaning “to put, place, or make”. On a phenomenal level, this brings to mind the an active nature – a mover, placer, and maker in the sense of an active participant. The root dʰeh₁ arises when an aspiration is added to an earlier root deh₁, which means “to bind”.

Cross-cultural analysis of the root reveals a function of “putting down” or a “laying down”, akin to laying out a mat or a rug; or rather, the putting down, or laying down of a thing. The Eurasiatic branch gives us D-ʕ which can be pronounced as “Daah” and another rendition gives D-ɣ which is pronounced similar to “D’gha”, with the “-ch” sounding akin to a lighter version of Scottish “loch”.

Other examples are as follows: Afroasiatic has day- for “put”, the Uralic branch has teke for “do, make, put or place”, the Kartvelian branch has dew/dw- as “lay or lie”, the Sino-Tibetan branch has dhăH/thăH as “to put, place, or to stand something up” and the Amerind branch has taʔ for “to make”. Along with descendant forms in the subsequent languages, these forms go beyond the Indo-European language family specifically and repeat the same fundamental notions.

These forms ultimately detail an action-oriented nature of the root, and thus the same can be attributed to the nature of θεός. The term does not merely mean “deity”, but instead deeply implies the participation in the order of operations of the world, cosmos and reality as a whole.

θεός is that which is made, put in place or laid out in existence, being the active operating force which moves all, and the undying force that binds all things in existence together.

θεός as the sovereign, is the creator, yet is also the created, as that which is created is an extension or emanation of Himself.

Notes on the nature of God and the Emanations

These notes are in reference to previous posts I made on the nature of God, which if you haven’t read, I will link below.

It should be noted that both the roots for the term God and Emanation have to do with water in some capacity, and both refer to the flowing, or pouring out of a liquid substance. The root Ǵʰew is used for libation, a pouring out of water, which is derived from the root of Ǵʰē, which means release, or letting go of something.

The root Meh₂ that becomes the word Emanation is fairly multifaceted. It implies a wetness or dampness, but also means a moment in time, or an opportune moment. It also has the meaning of something good, or great depending on use. In certain descendant languages such as in Celtic and Germanic languages, it gathers an additional meaning relating to an increase in quantity such as in the words most, or more.

Going on to look at another root, which I’ll say is not really a root in it’s own right, is (s)meh₂, which means to signal or to beckon. It is the origin of the word manus in Latin, or hand. This root is just a transformed use of Meh₂, primarily in the genitive sense, since it has an s-mobile attached to the front of it. It reveals that Meh₂ has yet another feature that is related to the hand, and in the Latin sense, has the attribute of having power over people or things.

Based on this, I’ll conclude the following:

The nature of God is that of a constant and creative libation, or a cosmic flow; a releasing, or pouring out of all creation, like water spilling forth from a spring. This release is the the constant act of creation and recreation; all of creation is constant change. This occurs at no singular point in time, but is happening at all times, and it does not cease in how much it spills forth.

The nature of the Emanations is that of the constant dispersal or extensions of the cosmic flow. That is, the ever-expansive and ever-increasing act of creation. The constant dispersal allows for instances in time where the constant change is readily presenced and therefore, known. This could be interpreted as Providence, as dictated by certain traditions.

The most basic forms we may come to know them by, is the phenomena of the world we inhabit – that which are called the Gods of the ancients. Each Emanation in its own right as an extension of the cosmic flow holds its own power over what it manifests as, but this does not mean they are static in nature; they themselves flow forth just as all things in the cosmos and are subject to constant change.

The presencing of an Emanation is a natural theophany, and is a sign, or a metaphorical hand that extends itself from the primal source, the God, to the human.

Full Þórs – Björn Magnússon Ólsen


In the winter it is so dead and dreary, for the darkness creeps over the people, and the cold weather shudders and pierces, moving towards hot blood.

Then, that fine light shines low in the south of the land, like a deaf sun. When else is it more necessary to drink, then at Yule?

Our fathers wised that the middle of winter should be celebrated. Yes – back then many a man was drunk of mead in the hall.

At Þorrablót there was heavy drinking, bull-horns went around the benches, and the ugly enemy soaked with boasts and beer.

And shields flowed with pure gold, were arranged in a ring around the host of chiefs, and hot kettles were filled whole with horse meat.

Wastefulness was with brilliant worth, so tremendous was the great gushing, since libation was drunk to the Gods all, and eightfold Þórr.

Because of that, no one has to ask of Öku-Þórr to try a drink; he drank them all under the table in one pull.

Though, the fleshmongering was the worst – Lord protect us from that. That corner of the sea is often refreshed by the strong god.

And we, who now in weakness try to walk in our fathers tracks, we bid Þór from pure heart for mind and courage.

The glass is now all weak: the beautiful mirrored shield-bosses of old, kettles to plates streaming with steaks, horns of liquor.

Because of that, there is still need to bid on strength and mind for the weak host, and to call on strong Þór to steady our Þorrablót.

O! Gift us Þór! To that time! To drink as much as you! We sign the heathen hammer in memory and pure belief!

Original text:

Á vetrum er svo dautt og dapurt,
Því dimman grúfir yfir þjóð,
Og kuldahretið hryllir napurt
Ið heita blóð.
Þá gægist að eins lágt um ljóra
Í landasuðri hin daufa sól,
Hvenær er heldur þörf að þjóra
En þá, um jól?

Það feður vorir vissu endur
Að vetri miðjum fagna skal,
Já, þá var margur maður kenndur
Af mjöð í sal.
Við Þorrablót var þéttan drukkið,
Er Þjórshornið um bekki fór,
Og þar var ljóta Satans sukkið
Við sumbl og bjór.

Og skjöldum, renndum skíru gulli,
Var skipað kríngum goða sjöt,
Og hitukatlar heilagt fullir
Með hrossakjöt.
Spillíngin var með virðum snjöllum
Svo voðalega geysistór,
Því full var drukkið Ásum öllum
Og áttfaldt Þór.

Því til þess hafði einginn orðið
Við Öku-Þór að reyna drykk;
Hann drakk þá alla undir borðið
Í einum rykk.
Þótt melludólgur væri´ann versti –
Varðveiti Drottin oss frá því –
Því optar hornsjórinn hressti
Inn hrausta tý.

Og vér, sem nú í veikleik reynum
Í vorra feðra að gánga spor,
Vér biðjum Þór af hjörtum hreinum
Um hug og þor.
Að gleri alt er orðið veiku:
Að ítrum speiglum buklin forn,
Katlar að disk með strembnum steikum,
Að staupum horn.
Það er því meir enn þörf að biðja
Um þrótt og huga veikri sjót,
Og heita á þrúðgan Þór að styðja
Vort Þorrablót.
Æ, gef oss, Þór! að þessu sinni!
Að þjóra jafnmikið og þú!
Vér signum hamri heiðið minni
Í hreinni trú.

Why you’re NOT a pagan

The human need for identity has an interesting way of transforming words. During my studies of history, language, and the occult, I have seen more than a handful of denominations that cultural revivalists and occultists have used to distinguish themselves and their respective groups. I mean, it makes sense – with the advent of increased information through the internet, it seems anyone and their morbidly obese catkin cousin can throw a word around and transmogrify it into an identifier – however logically retarded it may be. Everything seems to be fair game.

Which brings me to my main subject at hand – pagans.

Many who claim this term, would state that it is a derogatory term invented wholly by Christians. As far as the late usage, sure. The term is certainly a pejorative when we look at the ecclesiastical usage, as it was a way to demarcate those of an older way of living from those of the new faith. But, as with everything under the sky, there are layers to unfurl.

The term is adopted from an old Roman administrative term pagi. This was the designation of tribal territories in rural areas, often in places such as Celtic Europe and could also be applied to the late Germanic areas as well. These territories lay outside the areas where the political powers were centralized: walled urban city-states, port cities, hillforts, and villas or manors.

Being applied to places where Rome had a significant hold, it seems that this word was used to describe the splintered, shire-like setting these people lived in. While there was a large amount of proximity, these shires were bordered, and within them dwelled different peoples. They may have shared the same tongue, or variances of the same culture, but they weren’t all the same. As Rome moved into these regions, they instilled what was known as the villa system onto the pre-existing inhabitants, which was adopted and thereafter maintained by incoming Germanic tribesmen even after the Romans fell. This form preceded the late manorialism seen in medieval England after the Norman conquest in the eleventh century, which was a form of feudalism on a micropolitical scale.

There were originally common people – regular ass folks who were scattered across these territories. Working on a local level for their subsistence and were not dependent on the hand of a master for their meals. The foreign influence from Rome changed this dynamic entirely and fashioned the colonate or tenant farmer system. This is a passive form of slavery whereby one lives on the land, is bonded to it, and works the fields, with the landowner getting the capital from the produce. This was usually a whole family affair, and whole generations were raised under the heel of this system.

That term bonded strikes a tone for me, so let me put it into context for you. When looking at the etymology of the term pagi, it gives roots of peh₂ǵ and peh, and both primarily mean to attach, or to join. Which really, are just synonyms for being bonded to a thing. These roots have later descendant words such as pact and fastened.

Based on these understandings – what is the term pagan really referring to? Did this word accurately ascertain what these common folks really were like? I would conclude that yes – the term was correct based on the observations of the people who dwelled in these types of areas. Their characteristic inclination was to be bonded to the land they dwelled in and be bonded to their local populace through culture and custom. Loyal to their own, and them alone.

I would say the term in truth, should be more of a description of the habits of the dwellers, rather than an actual identifier. This would not have been a word used between them anyway, since history details that all these ancient peoples had tribal names separate from the foreign classifications of Rome. Tribal differences always bring along with it the in-group/out-group mentality, which is a natural animal mentality, and is ultimately a healthy mentality. While this usually led to violent ways of demarcation between people – I’d say that violence is healthy to maintain the society and the appropriate power structures. Any society that negates violence or defense tends to die out after some time.  Just look at what happened to Tibet in 1950. Slaughtered.

Though for modern pagans, none of these principles seem to hold weight, which is why they are in essence – not pagan at all. Most would be happier to negate these principal forms in favor of not being attached to others and staying solitary, which just means that they don’t want to be held responsible for creating and maintaining a culture or people. Over the years, I have heard many say that it is impossible in the world we currently live in, but frankly I have always seen that as a cop out, revealing a deep laziness which degrades the spirit. Being a pagan takes a certain amount of work, planning and bringing others into your sphere all for the goal of cultivating something to last beyond you.

Setting up some shitty little altar in your living room does not mean you are a pagan. Being a pagan is not about belief, but about how you live, and the willingness to be a part of something other than yourself. Being a pagan is about adding to a group and allowing that group to prosper through building relationships, having families, and sharing amongst one another, for one another. To be bonded, attached, or joined with others of like countenance and form is how a people and a place is created. This is fundamentally tribalism, and to be a pagan is to be inherently tribal down to your very roots.

To be lukewarm on this is not even an option. The foundation is black and white. If you have no shared people, culture, or tribal territory – you are not a pagan.

Þórr heitir Atli

A name shared with the saga rendition of Attila the Hun, the name holds a connotation of wrath, and it is a derivative of the term atall meaning to be fierce, savage or wild.

A pattern I have noticed, is that this is usually used as a descriptive term of the eyes. The phrase ötul auga, which meant to have piercing eyes. Certain artifacts repeat this ocular detail, such as the ones depicted here.

Due to the protective function of Þórr, this seems to be a way of warding one from the evil eye, and unfortunate weather. Similar marks and stamp patterns adorn hammers and axe pendants from Germanic and Uralic areas.

His eyes may dispel misfortune, but pray they do not fall upon you.

Of Memory and Necrosophy

As it has been discussed before, there is always an underlying message to myth.

Most myths yield a corpus of material that may allow an operant to further develop their praxis. But, many look at myth as a means to glean what their ancestors might have believed, and many cling to these poems in a literal way – focusing solely on the anthropomorphic forms rather than the inner meanings surrounding these figures and their actions. Whether it be from the Edda, Theogony, or even the Christian Bible, these subtle forms will always be embedded in poetical verbiage and the scrawl of scribes. To effectively work with the many images and forces we deem as divine, one must tread down their overgrown pathways, and enact their work ourselves. We do this in emulation, but also for our own becoming. This is how I view ritual, and have gotten the best results with this methodology.

..any repetition of an archetypal gesture, suspends duration, abolishes profane time, and participates in mythic time.

Mircea Eliade, The Myth of The Eternal return, page 36.

One such myth we can draw a ritual from, is in Ynglinga Saga chapter 4 which gives details a crucial part of Mimir’s story and how he came to talk with Óðinn, and became a medium for his divination:

“Óðinn tok höfuðit ok smurði urtum, þeim er eigi mátti fúna, ok kvað þar yfir galdra, ok magnaði svá, at þat mælti við hann ok sagði honum marga leynda hluti.”

“Odin, took the head and smeared worts, which possessed power against rot, and spoke over it with sorcery, and empowered it so that he could speak with it, and it said to him many hidden lots.”

The first ritual focus is the process of embalming that the sorcerer is enacting.

The first term comes from the word smyrja, which means to butter or smear something on an object. Other ways of using the word, is to anoint something – like a King. What is smeared, is usually an ointment of some sort, judging by the use of the word smyrsl. But since the term is utilized when speaking of butter or fat, this is likely what was most commonly used as the base of said ointment. In later black book traditions, smearing butter on objects, or using butter as a medium to transfer sorcery was common. The medieval fear of witches stealing butter may result from this tradition, as it was fat was/is a crucial piece of survival, especially during the winter months. The importance here should be noted.

The second term urtum, means an herb otherwise called a wort. It essentially is the root and/or stems of a plant. The term jurt is another form of this word, and indicates an aromatic scent accompanying the herbs, and was later used for spices. The strong scents would likely be to rouse the spirit of the being, while preserving the physical form of the head. The word urt, is used for the first brew of malt in each season and was also used for eggs. All of these indicate the components of what was used in combination with the butter/fat.

The second ritual focus is the recitation upon finishing the embalming process.

Óðinn was said to kvað þar yfir galdra or speak with sorcery over the head of Mimir to make it empowered – magnaði. The metrical form of galdralag would have been used when speaking over the now embalmed head of his friend, and is a relatively simple poetic form. These verses were said to be fathered by Óðinn, as he was the father of all sorcery. The term magnaði is key, as it is commonly used when detailing the animate sorcerous power, as in making something like a rock or a tree root. it is not an inherent power already held by an inanimate object, but one given to it, by the use of the object as a medium. A similar word is megin, for might or strength. This is commonly used for Gods like Þórr.

This ritual has obvious elements of Necromancy, though Necrosophy is a proper name for it due to it revolving around obtaining information in the mythic sense. There is a similarity to those rituals of creating a famulus or fétiche, which take up the dead contents of animals or humans and imbue their shades into objects; usually an object carried on an individuals person, or back into their original skeletal remains for use as ritual objects and indenturing a spirit into the servitude of the sorcerer. The process of keeping such a form alive and awake, is to feed it with sacrifices and/or offerings – what type of offerings are all dependent on what you are creating into a famulus. For instance, for Óðinn to gain sight to the fate of his son Baldr, he gave up his eye. Offerings in many cases are like for like. In my experience, most spirits respond more readily to fresh blood and meat.

The process is as follows:

  1. Obtain a vessel you wish to imbue, and place it in your ritual space.
    a. This can be a skull, bone, or limb such as a hand or paw.
    b. You can place this upon an altar, or a specialized bowl or box.
  2. Prepare the roots and stems of the plants you have chosen to rouse the shade.
  3. Prepare the malt.
    a. Grind it into powder.
  4. Prepare the eggs.
    a. This should be less than the butter, otherwise it will not solidify properly.
  5. Render the butter into liquid.
    a. Ensure that there is enough butter to cover the entire vessel.
  6. Combine the contents together as the butter is being rendered, and mix.
    a. Let this simmer.
  7. Once the contents are mixed thoroughly, pour the mixture onto the vessel.
    a. It will dry fairly quickly, so ensure that you cover the entire area of the vessel.
    b. Rub the mixture into the vessel.
  8. Once finished, set the vessel into the ritual space.
  9. Make your first sacrifice/offering.
    a. If using an animal, ensure that the blood is dripped onto the vessel.
    b. If using your own blood, do the same as above.
    c. If using alcohol or some other substance, do the same as above.
  10. Recite your verse/meter as many times as possible.
    a. Ensure that this is memorized, you will need to speak this each time you give a sacrifice/offering.
  11. Meditate on imbuing your intent and focus it into the shape of the vessel.
  12. Depart.


Brothers, what we do in life… echoes in eternity.

The greatest of heroes did not live long lives, and did not obsess about the afterlife.

Whether it be Heracles, Achilles, Sigurd or Thor — they all prioritized action and deeds, and certainly were not distinguished by their moderation.

Such moderation was for men who wanted to live their lives long and comfortable; within their control. Their names eventually withering from memory, and thus their power in this world.

Conquerers, warmongers, and our favorite heroes all sought after the same thing — Imperishable Fame. A major axiom that is repeated through multiple Indo-European cultures.

When your name is on the tongues of thousands of people, it’s easy to imagine a deification process occurring.

This is probably more valid today than ever before, wouldn’t you say?

This was a feat that kept their names current through time, thereby giving them an immortal status, and thus a certain spiritual power. A gift to their descendants of a mighty lineage, one that they could be proud of.

This is why men should look back on these ancient men, in an effort to kindle themselves for the trials of today and embolden themselves.

But somewhere, in some ugly glass tower — a welp of a man will sit back in his recliner, making judgements on such heroes as being brutish, toxic, or extreme for the sake of wealth, women and power.

“Yes, and..?”

There will always be critics, especially those who value inaction or caution as their baseline. The key thing is to keep seeking that imperishable fame, which is the key to the eternal flame and eternal life.

Put your whole spirit into what you do, and act on what you affirm as true.

Do it for your sons. Do it for your story.

But moreover, do it for your fucking self.


Ranting against the Earth Mother

Fisherman from Birsay on the Orkney Islands. Kind of related.

For some reason, some Heathens and Germanic pagans have decided to equate the cult of Nerthus as explained by Tacitus with Jǫrð from later folklore. I guess this is because of the ease of access and an attempt at fashioning a “tradition” based around two extremely vague figures. Both of which they terribly fumble around with and use to verify their weak ass earth worship.

But, to add more fuel to the argument — I’m going to subject you all to a quick rant for a second, and see what information I can pull from the words.

The proposed root for Nerthus is h₂nḗr, which means “man”, with an emphasis on the vitality or vigor of that man. See anēr in Greek, and later andro- root, and usage of Ner- in Italic, such as in “Nero”, and Nar- in Sanskrit.

The exact quote from Tacitus’ Germania “nisi quod in commune Nerthum, id est Terram matrem”— while the common denomination has a suffix of -us, a masculine form, the quote has -um, a neutered singular form of that same masculine suffix.

This betrays the proposed Germanic rendition to Nerþuz and Latin Nerthus, as the -us in Latin comes from the masculine adjectival ending -ós in Proto-Indo-European and likewise cognates to the Germanic ending -az, resulting in Nerþaz as a proper form. The -ō stem as being the female equivalent of the -az ending. Adding the -z would pluralize that form.

Further, while the text calls this figure the “Mother of Earth”, the figure was worshipped among coastal and other near-coastal tribal groups. This indicates that it was very likely a religion with a divine figure pertaining to the sea, especially when one considers the custom they mentioned in the treatise. There is more backing on this being more associated with the later Njǫrðr in Old Norse — the god of coasts, fishing and general abundance.

It could be stated that the function of this cultural piece was mistaken by the author based on his understanding of earth-goddess cults, or or simply represents the common twinning or doubling of divinities in certain traditions — this becomes apparent when one observes that the children of Njǫrðr, whom he sired on his unnamed sister-wife, hold different gendered forms of the same name, Freyr and Freyja; proposed forms are Fraujaz and Frawjō. It could be that the chthonic or earthly aspect comes from this part of the cultus, and was the female function.

Based on the name, it seems that this religion observed the male form as it’s primary focus. The divine pair I would reconstruct as being Nerþaz, and Nerþō in Proto-Germanic.

So with these points being out there in the open now, I don’t think Nerthus can equate the later form Jǫrð, as “the mother of Thor”. Especially since the roots of her name comes from the h₁er, and h₂erh₃ roots, pertaining to dry earth and ploughed fields, which don’t actually correspond to the function of Tacitus’ Nerthus at all.

This whole idea is really just a fantasy for hippies who want to play with runes.