This very nice woman came to my Wiccan training group. She knew I had cats, and she knew she had allergies, but she thought she’d be okay. She wasn’t. Poor dear was really sick the whole next day, and has decided to quit the group. I feel badly for her.
So I decided to refer her out to another group I know. And realized that, although I know of three other groups in my local area, they all have cats.
Witches…cats…and although they’re not all named Pyewacket, they might as well be.
As widely reported in the blogosphere, Missouri wishes to make Christianity the official state religion.
House Concurrent Resolution 13 has is pending in the state legislature…
The resolution would recognize “a Christian god,??? and it would not protect minority religions, but “protect the majority’s right to express their religious beliefs.
I have seen some Wiccans shrug at this. They point out this is a non-binding resolution, not a law. They point out that Wicca has always been hidden, so what’s the big?
The obvious intent here is to make an inroad towards establishment. They are trying to further the tiresome and self-serving meme that Chrisitianity is “oppressed” in the U.S. They are doing this to undermine the idea that it is minority religion and non-religion that requires protection. The right is all about talking points. It’s all about selling a story. Truthiness. Missouri is trying to sell the story that Christianity is oppressed, must be protected, and can be made a state religion. That they skirt the letter of the law to do so is beside the point.
And as to the “hidden Wicca” idea? Hide to be discreet and private. Hide to work the Witches Pyramid. Hide to preserve the Mysteries. But when they come to drag us out of our homes, to take our jobs, our children, our lives?
Don’t hide. Fight.
What is it that makes people think the author is the work? The artist is the art?
There was a commenter here who basically said that, because I was rude to her, she wouldn’t recommend The Way of Four anymore. Did The Way of Four get worse overnight?
I see this all the time, especially (but not exclusively) among Pagans. People who pan Oberon’s book because it markets towards Hogwarts types. “Oh,” they say, “He’s so caught up in fantasy.” And y’know, Oberon is caught up in fantasy. He loves it, it enriches him. But does that say anything about the book? I mean, shouldn’t you at least flip through it before deciding whether or not it’s good?
Authors are human. Oberon loves fantasy, to the point where sometimes it’s silly. Isaac loves polemics, to the point where sometimes it’s really gorram annoying. I am opinionated and sometimes bitchy.
So what?
So the first thing, I guess, is why does that have anything to do with our writing? But the other thing is, why should writing be perfect for it to be commendable? Maybe Oberon’s book has too much fantasy for your taste, and has some excellent magical stuff. I think if you sit home and wait for the perfect book, you won’t read much.
I think a smart person, a good reader, a discerning adult, knows how to separate author from work or singer from song, and also knows how to separate wheat from chaff.
I wrote to one of my favorite authors about one of her books. I was such a huge fan. I’d seen her lecture a couple of times. And the answer I got back was, well, snotty. Knocked the stars right out of my eyes, poor me. But I still recommend her book because it’s still a great book. I won’t invite her to my birthday party, but heck, she won’t invite me to hers.
The burden is on the reader, really, to make those distinctions, and to allow the writer to be a human being. Because we will be, regardless.
I chose to be Pagan. I volunteered. But this latest persecution of alternative religious expression got me thinking that I didn’t choose this. I didn’t choose to be a victim of an oppressive theocracy.
My great-grandparents came to this country to escape pogroms. They came here to be free. And, while some Jews adopted gentile surnames, we did not. I was raised to be proud of who I am, and raised to celebrate my difference, to celebrate the religious freedom that makes America both diverse and free. Like a lot of Jews, I am a liberal patriot, because I know how precious it is to be free, and how easily that freedom can be snatched away.
I credit my mother’s pride in her Judaism with my ability to be proud of my Paganism. I am proud of her. To the extent that I hold my head up, and say not here, not to us, never again, I am proud of myself. But we have to keep fighting.
We have to fight the attempts to establish a theocracy. Fight religious monuments in government buildings. Fight the notion of a “Christian nation.” Fight bigotry against Muslims. Fight with our keyboards, our wallets, our voices, and the stands we take. If we don’t fight for it, I guarantee they’ll take it away from us.
Through the Wild Hunt blog, I learned of this horrifying story of a child snatched from his mother by a court determined to punish her for being a member of the Church of the Subgenius.
This is punishment and persecution, without even the pretense of protecting the boy. “Evidence” against the mom, Rachel Bevilacqua, includes her participating in events where her son was not present. (Some of those photos are of Starwood 25, an event I attended.)
[The judge] strongly disapproved of the photos of Rachel Bevilacqua in a bondage dress and papier mache goat’s head. The judge repeatedly asked, “Why a goat? What’s so significant about a goat’s head?” When Rachel replied, “I just thought the word ‘goat’ was funny,” Judge Punch lost his temper completely, and began to shout abuse at Rachel, calling her a “pervert,” “mentally ill,” “lying,” and a participant in “sex orgies.” The judge ordered that Rachel is to have absolutely no contact with her son, not even in writing, because he felt the pictures of X-Day performance art were evidence enough to suspect “severe mental illness”. Rachel has had no contact with Kohl since that day, February 3, 2006.
As of yesterday, Rachel was granted supervised visition with Kohl. The Church of the Subgenius is raising money for the family’s legal costs.
I am so mad I could spit. It makes my stomach hurt. To lose her child. Her child! Because of religion. In the 21st Century. In New York. I am torn between rage at the injustice, and agony on behalf of the mother and child, and did I mention rage?
In the abortion debate, sooner or later someone will bring up the “when life begins” canard. Now, on one level it’s bullshit, because the whole idea that “pro-life” is “preserving the life of the unborn” is not pro-life. It’s not. If it was pro-life then the lives of adult women would be important. If it was pro-life then unmarried women who had babies would be celebrated rather than shamed. But I’ve posted about that before. Here, I am posting about something different.
When does life begin? We cannot talk about it without dancing on the edge of the soul or spirit, and that’s pretty religious, even for non-religious people. I do think this whole “pro-life” (insert eye-roll here) discussion comes perilously close to establishment, because it takes some religions’ views over others’. But moreover, we’re working from a rigidly monotheistic paradigm.
Guys and Dolls was on TCM last night. I’m a freak for musicals, and it’s one of my favorites. It’s also one of the most sexist things ever written, and it’s all about the war between the sexes (hence the title). I’ve been thinking about this musical and its implications, on and off since I was twelve years old.
One of the themes of the musical is that women tame men. Men are wild and adventurous, and women are domestic. Women will steal men’s wildness, and this threatens men. The “wild men” in this story are outlaws; gamblers one step ahead of the cops. Women seek marriage; and marriage, being of society, will reinforce social bonds. Women want “wallpaper and bookends;” if their man strays:
Slowly introduce him to domestic life
And if he ever tries to stray from you
Have a headache
Have a pot roast
Have a baby
Have two!
This story is seven thousand years old.
It starts in Mesopatamia, with Enkidu. In one of the oldest pieces of writing yet discovered, we are told of Enkidu, the wild man of the forest. He is destructive to grazing and hunting grounds, so a hunter seeks out Gilgamesh for advise:
Today, February 1, is Imbolc, aka Oimelc, aka Candlemas, aka Brigid’s Day, aka Brigid. (It is my personal contention that Brigid’s Day has more names than any other Pagan holiday—feel free to disprove this.)
Per Jason, I find this cool article on Brigid’s Perpetual Flame in Kildaire. This flame was maintained for untold years in pre-Christian Ireland, and wasn’t put out until the 16th century (at a guess). It was relit in 1993.
The lovely ladies who maintain the flame allow visitors to carry it home. This is done by lighting a new candle from the flame and then putting it out. The unlit candle is then brought home (lit candles being problematic on plane rides) and can be used to light other Brigid Flames.
Isaac brought home a Brigid Flame when he visited Ireland a few years back, and so now I have a Brigid candle in my living room. It’s not perpetually lit, but I light it annually for our Bardic Circle.
May Brigid bless your life with poetry and song, fertility, healing, and a full table for feasting.
Blessed be!
This all came up out of a Topic of the Day on Shakespeare’s Sister. The topic was on how we relax, and one of the things I brought up was incense.
Incense can be used to create all manner of moods, by imprinting the mood. If Pavlov had used scent instead of a bell, he’d have had his dogs salivating in half the time. We respond incredibly well to scent.
I missed Blog About Choice day yesterday, what with the time limit on using the Internet at the library (yes, the computer is STILL broken grrrrr). Wild Hunt, however, has this totally great collection of quotes about Paganism and Choice that’s worth reading.
