hey I don’t think I’ve ever talked here about corn wolves. here let me find a gas station real quick
okay so I’m in the middle of nowhere stopped for gas in a small town in Iowa rn and my Internet is REALLY spotty so I hope this posts but
as people who have followed this blog for longer might know, sometimes I go hang out with this corn genetics lab at school, as in we meet up on friday nights to talk about corn science and stuff. once the corn genetics subject of the week is covered sometimes we go off track and start talking about other stuff. as u may imagine from a corn genetics lab, most of the members grew up on farms here in the midwest, and one night we were talking and a couple of the people started discussing an urban legend that they were taught as kids to keep them from running into their family’s cornfields and getting lost. one of those people was from Nebraska, and the other from rural minnisoda- these were isolated incidents of this urban legend happening, and all of us were deeply engrossed in this. i cannot make this shit up, this is the story:
there are wolves that live inside the corn when it’s full grown. they’re huge, and are camouflaged to hide in the fields. their breathing sounds like the misting of the irrigation systems set up over the corn in these areas for water. if they see small children in the fields, they kill and eat them.
now I’ve lived my whole life in suburban Iowa, and I can vouch that we don’t have irrigation systems like that here; our group came to the conclusion that this must be the reason that from our 7 or 8 person sample size, the corn wolves did not exist in Iowa, the largest producer of corn. I’ve never seen the corn wolves mentioned anywhere else outside that one night with the genetics lab, and it really fascinates me because as a horror/creepypasta person myself, I think it’s a great example of those strange little urban legends that never get written down on paper. the fact that it’s never appeared anywhere else in my life kind of confounds me, because it’s a really cool story. i like to go driving around rural Iowa when I’m home from college, and i always end up thinking about the corn wolves.
neither of the people believed it as kids btw lol
This is a FANTASTIC piece of Americana and cryptic lore. I propose making them a thing immediately.
Fun geography time.
This isn’t an unprecedented or unusual piece of folklore, and I think
there’s a notable demographic reason that this lore shows-up in the
long-grass prairies of the northern Corn Belt of the U.S. This appears
to be a classic telling of “Roggenwolf” folklore, a variation on the
“feldgeister” concept.
Roggenwolf – or sometimes, Kornwolf – specifically refers to the German folk belief in a phantom wolf spirit which hides in tall corn fields and stalks children. Roggenwolf is one of the more popular and widely-known of the feldgeister spirits.
In German folk culture, Feldgeisters, as is probably obvious from the name, are malevolent spirits which dwell in crops and rural agricultural fields. Feldgeisters
are almost always specifically associated with children; that is, they
are said to target children for torment and death. They are not really
associated with naturally-occurring grasslands or woodlands, but instead
are distinctly related to domesticated crops. Sometimes, some rural
residents will make small ritualistic offerings during harvest season as
a gesture to appease the spirit. The spirit is said to be most active
when crops are at their tallest.
Other variations of the crop-dwelling feldgeister include an evil pig (Roggensau); a dog that tickles children to death (Kiddelhunde); a witch-like corn-woman who kidnaps children (Roggenmuhme); and a chicken that pecks-out children’s eyes (Getreidehahn).
I
would say that there are two (2!) very good reasons why feldgeister lore shows-up in some micro-regions of the Midwest, while being absent
in others. Specifically, both the ethnic heritage and the ecology of a
certain part of the Plains/Midwest create good conditions for
replicating this European lore in North America
People familiar with the cultural
geography of the American Midwest are probably well-aware of the strong
ethnic Norwegian presence among rural agricultural cultures in the
glaciated plains of the Red River Valley of western Minnesota, the
northern half of North Dakota, and northeastern Montana. Ecologically,
this landscape is glaciated prairies with pothole lakes, and often hosts
much more barley than corn. Meanwhile, the Heartland region of rural
Illinois and Indiana, though hosting quite a bit of heavy corn industry,
isn’t too much more ethnically German than other parts of America, and
much of the landscape is a mixture of Rust Belt industrial areas
in-between the cornfields (so it’s not exactly desolate and creepy).
However,
there is very strong ethnic German presence in the long-grass prairies
southern Minnesota, South Dakota, south-central North Dakota, parts of
western Wisconsin, and central Nebraska and Kansas away from the urban
areas of Omaha and Kansas City. In most of this land, over 50% of the
population has German ancestry. Aside from this cultural composition,
this region also lends itself better to creepy, eerie stories because it
is more empty and ecologically homogenous than the rest of the Great
Lakes and Heartlands; this is the region where crops run uninterrupted
for miles and rural dirt-roads run in empty grid networks in every
direction. Though the feldgeister concept has a closer association with
cornfields in Europe, the long-grass prairies (roughly centered neared
Sioux Falls) host 1) heavy German influence, and 2) the most expansive
crops in the country. Therefore, the region is probably ripe for a
replication of spooky German lore about haunted cornfields.
Source: Me Map 1 – Cultural Micro-Regions of the Heartland and Great Plains:
I think that this map might help to visualize where both cornfields and
rural lifestyle predominate, opening the door to rural folklore. The two
regions here where corn agriculture is predominant are the orange and
yellow regions. The orange region, the classic “Heartland”, hosts
Indiana Hoosier culture and the cornfields of Illinois and Ohio.
However, the region is marked by smaller farms and a higher population
density, and is not that rural compared to the plains further west; much
of this region also hosts larger cities and a lot of Rust Belt
industrial zones and dairy farms. The yellow region, however, is both
covered in corn and quite rural, where crops can span from horizon to
horizon. That’s where we would look for German folk culture.
Source: An anonymous hero cartographer who’s had their work stolen by Pinterest users Map 2 – German Ancestry in the U.S.
This might help to visualize the places where predominant corn agriculture overlaps with German ancestry. Note that in much of central Wisconsin and central North Dakota, over 50% of people have German ancestry. But this land isn’t really dominated by corn. However, the region roughly from Fargo (on the Minnesota-North Dakota border) to Kansas City is both heavily German and dominated by corn. —
Anyway, feldgeister lore is scary. I’d love to hear more American versions, since a lot of the scholarship on these spooky corn-wolves is based on folk culture in Germany itself, rather than the diaspora in the U.S.
Saw this post about feldgeister’s going around again, so thought I’d make a low-effort re-post for anyone interested in “Midwestern gothic” or how local ecology influences regional folklore.
this an awesome hot take thank you!!
and just in time for halloween and the corn harvest, too 👀
this is the most exquisitely @seananmcguire blend of creepiness, scholarship, and corn that has ever existed.
People always gloss over how mentally damaging it can be to work in retail. I fucking hate that whenever I say “I could never work in retail again” someone has to reply “You snowflake millennials can’t take a starter job because you have to INTERACT with other people” No. Fuck you. I’ve worked as a planetarium host. I’ve worked as a public speaker. I’ve worked as a tutor and as a student teacher. I can work with people. I can work with crowds. Retail was fucking different. Retail was being treated as a subhuman. Retail was being treated so poorly that you have anxiety attacks before work. Having to work retail was a factor in my last suicide attempt. If I hear you say one fucking word about retail workers playing the victim I will personally break every bone in your body. Fuck You.
The holidays are coming up. Retail workers are going to be spiraling into a nightmare beyond human comprehension. If you’ve worked retail, you know this. If you haven’t, be aware of it. Please be kind to every retail worker you come across. Please be patient and understanding. It is misery out there.
The kisses and the touches never meant anything to either of them.
The truth of it all:
Obi-Wan had him pushed up against a wall in an empty corridor. It was a familiar scene like all the other times before.
(Like all the other times they said it would be the last time, except it never is. Not with them, never with them. Because it was never just one time-not when they both want more. Not when they keep thinking about it even when they pretend they don’t.)
Calloused fingers getting tangled in curls as Anakin pulls him closer. His mouth is soft and inviting but there isn’t anything tender in the kiss that they share. The kiss isn’t soft but isn’t brutal either. It’s one out of slight desperation, like this could be the last time they ever do this, like this time they won’t make out of the battlefield.
(Except it’s a lie isn’t it? It won’t be the last time they ever do this because it never is. Not the kisses and not the touches they share no matter how hard they both try to covince themselves otherwise. Anakin will corner him the next time they go out into the battlefield and kiss him like he’s afraid that he won’t get the chance to ever again. And Obi-Wan will let him kiss him because even though he never says it, he’s afraid that this time will be the time he won’t make it out alive. But even that’s an excuse isn’t it? They’re the team, they’re the team and they always make out alive don’t they?)
There’s a bit of blood between them, rough hands and even rougher lips. It isn’t new to either of them and they ignore the sting of it. The taste of blood and the restlessness burning through them and the need for more, more, more. Anakin always wants more, craves for more. Obi-Wan bites down on Anakin’s bottom lip, the quiet moan he lets out getting lost in between them. Obi-Wan can’t help the smile on his lips or the way his fingers tighten in Anakin’s hair as he feels the way he sudders under his hands.
(And how many times has this happened before? The two of them being desperate for each other and hands tearing at each other and lips leaving bruises in places no one will ever see. Obi-Wan leaning his forehead against Anakin’s and telling him they can’t. They can’t. And yet all Anakin has to do is kiss him and tell him yes, they can. And they both tell each other it’s the first and only time they’ll do this, but it isn’t, it never is. They pretend it never means anything. Or maybe they pretend it means something else entirely.)
They break apart and Anakin’s eyes are bright and begging and his curls are mused. Obi-wan is sure he isn’t much better. They compse themselves as they hear the footsteps coming down the corridor. And the walls will go back up and the lingering touches will burn them the way the longing looks do. And they walk back and pretend nothing ever happened between them. And when Anakin asks him to stay the night he knows the answer he should give, but he’s always had a weakness for Anakin and what can he say when Anakin asks him that? And when Anakin kisses him, this time something slow and tender and breakable, and Obi-Wan shouldn’t continue this but he does. And when Anakin asks him to stay again what can he do but just that?
(And when Anakin pretends that it meant nothing, Obi-Wan doesn’t try to remind him. It’s a familiar dance that they do. Pretending that nothing ever happened in the empty spaces between them. Pretending that the kiss and that the late night touches in their rooms at the temple and in empty corridors and their rooms on their ships never meant anything. Except that they do mean something because it happens again and again. But it was never really pretend with them was it?)
mr bingley to darcy: “how could you propose to elizabeth bennet in kent just after you convinced me not to marry jane bennet because of her poor social status?”
Sometimes I see a girl’s shoulders/collarbone area and I’m suddenly possessed by the spirit of a 19th century lesbian first seeing another girl removing her dress to reveal pantaloons and corset in the dorms at the all-girls boarding school her parents sent her to so she may be trained in proper etiquette
NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT A GOD DAMN RELATIONSHIP AND LOSING WEIGHT AND BEING BEAUTIFUL FOR GODS SAKE GO OUTSIDE AND ROB A STORE AND FEEL ALIVE AS YOU RUN AWAY FROM SECURITY
one of the houses on the end of my street is home to the members of a local irish folk band so some mornings i’ll be walking out to my bus stop to a rollicking accordion and mandolin like i’m finally setting out to seek my fortune on the high seas or some days i’ll come home to a weary aching lament that is so sweet and so yearning that i’ll miss the drowned lover i never had
My mom just told me you’re not a woman until you get blood on nearly every pair of pants you love. I was like, “what if you don’t have periods?” And she said “I didn’t say it had to be your own.”
I thought this was going to be cissexist and I was pleasantly surprised.
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