Category Archives: The Vagaries

Got Squat?

Got Squat

When you’re a parent and and witch, you rather hope your offspring will follow in your footprints.  But — just as it should be — my son has always been his own person, with his own path to follow.  One that doesn’t usually coincide with mine.

So it was a proud day when I came upon my son looking up dirty nun jokes on the internet.

Before you start hitting your back button, take heart.  It all had to do with Squat, the Goddess of parking spots.

My son explained he was entering the lottery for a parking place at school (there aren’t enough spaces for everyone).  And he needed to appeal to Squat, Goddess of parking places, for Her help.

Awww … it makes a Mother proud.

And in case you don’t know Squat, the folks that call upon Her swear She’s very helpful.  I understand from my own HPS, she is especially revered in San Francisco, where to invoke Her you say:

Squat, Squat I like you a lot
I think you’re hot
Help me get a parking spot!

Then you tell a dirty joke about a nun, to fuel the spell.

Hence the dirty nun jokes.

 

 

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Bibliorgasmic

Snake, Magic Wand, Leather Books from Portrait of Ebenezer Sibley

We witches love our books.  And we love to buy, read, praise/bitch about, prominently display, lord over our friends and prop up one end of the bed with our many, many occult books.  Although not necessarily in that order.

Rarely in that order.

Be that as it may, never before have we been so spoiled for choice in publishers of our kind of books.

For our collective convenience and browsing pleasure, below are icons for a big handful of occult publishers.  (I should probably say here that I am receiving no recompense of any kind from these folks.)  This isn’t an exhaustive list; rather a lovely sampling.  Let the book ogling commence!

Ajnabound

Caduceus Books

Caduceus Books

Fulgur Esoterica

Fulgur Esoterica

Hadean Press

Hadean Press

Mandrake of Oxford

Ouroboros Press

Pendraig Publishing

Salamander and Sons

Scarlet Imprint

Starfire Publishing

Starfire Publishing

Three Hands Press

Three Hands Press

Troy Books

Wonderella Printed

Xoanon Limited

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On babies, bathwater and stink bugs

Baby with Bathwater

A member of a local e-group posted a link to this article — Protocol, Privilege and Monotheistic Arrogance.

Interfaith work.  Most of us have strong feelings about it.  Love, a sense of duty, frustration, hate, and sometimes all of the above.

I am a strong believer in interfaith work, but Galina Krasskova over at Witches and Pagans sums up something that’s been disturbing me for a while now:

     “That’s really what unity is after all: it comes from the Latin word ‘unus’: one. It is an erasure of indigeny. It is an obliteration of the wondrous diversity of experience and divinity that characterizes polytheism. It is an extension of monotheistic domination. It’s just been prettied up. It’s been made politically correct. Words like ‘tolerance’ and ‘oneness’ have been slapped on it to present a facade palatable to the WASP and/or new age majority, a façade that precludes active engagement.

“… in the end, those who are working to restore their indigenous traditions need to ask themselves how much time, energy, and commitment they’re willing to take away from their ancestral ways to educate the impious, to educate those who don’t even think to question the status quo.”

Personally, I think interfaith work is valuable, but too often is allowed to eclipse the main focus of a spiritual practice.  I’ve come to believe that there is no way to sanitize my spiritual practices so that they will be found acceptable to Mainstream America. Remember:  the most vocal fundamental minority* here in the United States, the Southern Baptists, believe we’re all “going to hell,” and that they are doing us a kindness to breach the boundaries of common courtesy and respect for individual choice, in an effort to “save us.”  And by “us,” I mean almost everyone else in the United States, not just us pagans.  I’m not saying that as a meanness; just stating a truth.

In trying to present our various ways in a pallatable light, one needn’t go very far before the beauty and strength are stripped away from our practices.  So these days, I focus my interfaith efforts on actively promoting courtesy and respect of the beliefs of others. You don’t have to believe like I do, and I don’t have to believe like you do.  But we should be polite and affirming of each other’s right to the path of our choice.  And hopefully not tell each other that we’re going to hell, or reincarnating as a stink bug.

I’m also spending more time on intrafaith work. Making opportunities for those who are genuinely interested in knowing what I find beautiful and powerful in my own practices.  Working to keep myself open to the sacred, and to consciously remove the filters I discover within myself that have been pressed onto me by the paradigms of my childhood.

Otherwise, I’d just be throwing the baby out with the interfaith bath water.

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*From the U.S. Government Census

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Every time a witch votes, a monkey gets his wings

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If you live in the U.S., tomorrow is Election Day.  My apologies to those of you tuning in from other countries.  As a consolation prize, you get to hear a great song, and perhaps have a little laugh about America’s current sociopolitical climate.  (When not crying, I’m laughing about it, too!)

As far as I’m concerned, there’s not much witchier than the Power of Choice.  Your word made manifest.  And all in a private voting booth — it’s practically begging you to work a bit of magic within its alcoved privacy.

So load your pockets with the Amulets of Your Choice (pun intended) and Make. Your. Mark.

Still sitting on the couch?  Here’s a rousing song by Damh the Bard to light a fire under your backside.  Although it’s specifically about British politics, the themes shine through:

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Fly my pretties.  Fly!

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An omen by any many other names

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A couple of days ago, I traveled through a crossroad with a name so juicy I had to pull off the road and snap a picture.  My family has lived near Old Omen Road for many years, but I’d never thought to ask — as my kinfolk would put it — “how come it” to have that name.

Turns out, Omen is a rural community which has been called by many names — Round Hill, Canton, Clopton, Troup.  No one I spoke with knows where the omen part comes in, but my all-too-fertile imagination longs to believe the settlers stopped there in 1848 because they received an omen that it was the proper place to set their roots.

And that their staunch Baptist descendants have been trying to scratch new names over Omen ever since.

Doesn’t appear to be working!

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Patience. Not always a virtue.

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My friend and fellow witch, who shall remain nameless, just said:

“Patience is for sissies and democrats.”

In his particular instance tonight, I whole-heartedly agree.  Here’s to you, you good-looking devil.  No holds barred … paint the town red tonight!

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Here’s to the well-turned phrase

Upon seeing the bumper sticker “Keep the Christ in Christmas” —

“And they should keep the halo out of Halloween.”

In response to a Bible quote being used to support anti-gay sentiment —

“How diabiblical!”

These are some clever folks I live with!

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