Sensible Witchcraft: Besom, Stang & Sword

The thing I like best about quote-unquote New Age religions is that they aren't hide-bound. New frameworks can arise without the practitioners facing persecution as heretics. That's refreshing. It also opens the door for books like Besom, Stang & Sword.

This highly readable book is a very interesting mix of traditional folk witchcraft (known as hoo doo in some quarters) and innovative uses of pathways, moon cycles, and bonding with your land base. The authors feel it's less important to forge relationships with deities from various pantheons than to dig into doing things. It's a hands-on approach that's at once ancient as our heath-dwelling ancestors and modern as the concrete cityscape.

I've got to admit that I often have a hard time getting through books on Pagan lore and practice. I'm not exactly sure why, but my mind begins to drift while I'm reading them. This book is one of the few where that didn't happen. It covers a whole lot of ground, including topics I hadn't read much about before, but manages to be accessible and interesting throughout. Perhaps it resonated with me because I've been working on my backyard-based Work, but it seems to me that this is the book you want if you want to be a witch but don't see why that label must include an up-close-and-personal visit to Glastonbury or a shelf full of Gardnerian lore.

When I was 13, my grandparents finally got running water in their summer place on Polish Mountain. Before the well was drilled, my grandfather hired a water diviner to come and find the best location for it. My cynical uncle scoffed at the process, but I was absolutely fascinated by the old man who came with his wand and walked back and forth across that rocky hill for hours, concentrating all the while. I will forever mark that ancient fellow as the first working witch I ever saw.

This book is for you if you want to be a working witch -- if you want to do trance work, or use flying ointments, or practice necromancy, or influence the outcome of things. I really enjoyed reading it, and my takeaway is to love the land I'm with.

I would call this a "beginner's book," but the authors helpfully include lots of sources for every topic, so you can dig deeper and find those tomes that will have your mind wandering in no time. If you want to learn about folk witchcraft, or improve your practice thereof, I highly recommend this book.

With apologies to the bored Gods and Goddesses. But that goes without saying.

Opposition Candidates Who Are Sure To Beat Donald Trump

Can you believe it? The mid-terms are just now over, and already candidates are lining up to run against Donald Trump in the 2020 presidential! And no wonder. Donald Trump is the easiest sitting president to beat of all time! It'll be like taking candy from a baby.

In case you're having trouble keeping up with them, here's a short list of opposition candidates who are shoo-ins against the Orange Horror.

1. GRITTY

Who better to beat the Orange Horror than another Orange Horror? Honestly, though, Gritty has some bona fides. I wrote about him a few posts back. You'll see he's a take-charge kinda mascot.


2. Lil Bub

Bub is as cute as Trump is ugly. She has overcome a lot of real health issues (as opposed to fake ones) just to be able to go about her day. She would never shut the government down, because someone has to inspect that cat meat! Can't let shoddy cat meat into a can. Nor would we need a space force, because rumor has it Bub has some extraterrestrial connections.


3. Mickey Mouse

No surprises there. He runs every time, and gets lots of votes, too. But this might be the first race ever that his promise of being better than the incumbent is actually verifiable.


4.  Obi-Wan Kenobi

He's our only hope.


5. Sarah Connor

There's nothing gun-toting men find sexier than gun-toting women. Am I right? Sarah will get the 2nd Amendment voters that Hillary didn't. Or else. Besides, Sarah's a badass. Wait until the debates, when Trump tries to stalk up behind her. He'll be out like a light, flailing on the floor like a gutted walrus.


6.  Elizabeth Bennett

My money is on this plucky woman.  She reads a lot, she can stand up to the moneyed interests, and she has a keen sense of social justice. Some family misbehavior might make a headline here and there, but no one needs to be paid off to keep silent.


7. Francis the Talking Mule

The electorate has already proven it will vote for a jackass. We should at least get one that can put together a coherent sentence.


8. The Dude

Can't really put together a coherent sentence, but he isn't a jackass.


9. Justin Trudeau




Please. Humor me.


10. Cthulu




Because sometimes you have to fight evil with REAL SERIOUS EVIL.


So, voter, which candidate do you support? Remember, those white pukes from the Kentucky private school aren't ready to run yet, so you really should choose off this list. The time is now. The need is great. Vote.

An Open Letter to Nick Sandmann, Future Supreme Court Justice of America

Hello and welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," your Pagan pathway to paradise! You know what's good about bored deities? If they're warlike, they're just warlike. They don't pose as coo doves and then smite. That's hypocritical and dishonest, don't you think?

EXHIBIT A: Today's Poster Boy for the Modern Era

Y'all probably know this story already. The young white creature is Nick Sandmann, a teenager from private Covington Catholic School in Kentucky. He and his classmates (pictured in rear) got into an altercation at the Lincoln Memorial some time after the annual Right to Life rally in Washington, DC.

There was a great rush to judgment based on this photo, so I took the time to read the grinning white boy's version of events. And I must say, he would fit right in here in Haterville. He casts himself as a victim with a total lack of irony.

The story he tells says so much about him. As if you'd need to know more once you saw the MAGA hat.

Apparently these fine Catholic youth were minding their own business at the Lincoln Memorial when some African American men began to taunt them. In Sandmann's account, these Black men called the good, white Catholic boys all sorts of names. So, in response, Sandmann asked his chaperone if he and his buddies could chant SCHOOL PEP RALLY CHANTS, and the chaperone said YES.

Picture this in your mind. Especially if you're a school teacher.

So you have taunting on one side, and chanting on another (from white teenagers wearing MAGA hats), and then you get a drumming Native American who tries to diffuse the situation.

Well, you can't blame the drummer. Some fucking chaperone was inciting his or her charges to riot, instead of quietly steering them out of trouble.

This is what white privilege looks like.

I have absolutely no time or energy for these Catholic schoolboys who go into Washington, DC (population about 60 percent Black), having no respect for the urban environment or what they might encounter there. At a moment where a thinking student or chaperone encountered taunting, that student would turn and quietly walk away. Let's not even talk about what Jesus would do, because ... oh, just see above, first paragraph.

Any woman who has ever walked the streets of a city and has gotten taunted would have known what to do in this situation. But white men? White men don't know shit about this. It's never happened to them. Or to their fathers or grandfathers. It must never have happened to the chaperone, either.

White Catholic boy, your MAGA hat speaks for you. Wear it the wrong place, and you've got to face the music. You won't like the tune. But hear it with humility. You go to private school and are bound for a life of wealth and contentment. The men who challenged you at the Lincoln Memorial? Not so much. Not. So. Much.

But that brings me to the silver lining of this fable.

Nick Sandmann, given the political tenor of your home state (which I would never be foolish enough to visit in my car with its New Jersey plates), you have a bright, bright future! Someone will have to pick up the torch from Mitch McConnell, and you're just the fresh-faced Republican to do it. But why stop there? Everything about you just screams Supreme Court Justice. Are you doing your requisite beer parties with all those fine, young, white pep rally chanters you hang out with? Are you getting drunk and preying upon the fresh-faced Catholic girls in your circle? Oh good. Just checking. In that case, all is well! You're on your way to the big time!

Readers, I double dog guarantee you this sad excuse for an American will face no disciplinary repercussions for this at home or at school. Nor will his chaperone, who was either on some super strong mushrooms or was just a clueless rube. White boys get away with this shit. Always have.

And once again, we see the Catholic church at its finest. What a rotten God! It's disgusting.

Divide and Conquer

When the Orange Menace was inaugurated, women of all stripes (except the Republican stripe) took to the streets and marched in solidarity. Like, in the millions.

Here we are three marches later, and everyone is quarreling like ... well, like human beings.

Muslim women may feel that homosexuality and abortion are sins. Some cis women don't consider transsexual women to actually be women. Women who voted for Bernie in the primaries feel like he would have beaten Donald Trump. Women who voted for Hillary feel like Bernie voters caused all this mess and kept a qualified, dignified candidate out of the White House.

Some African American women feel that white women can't see past privilege. Some white women can't get past their privilege enough to understand the minority experience. Some Millennial women resent how Baby Boomer women were able to get good jobs with benefits, and some Baby Boomer women don't understand why Millennial women don't stop whining and go out and get a good job with benefits.

Some women feel that the Democratic party should adopt a sensible, middle-of-the-road platform, and some women want to shake things up and fight for universal health care, free state college, and a basic minimum income. Some women love their guns, and some want to gather the damn things up and incinerate them.

Only a smattering of women are pro-organized labor ... and some of them voted for the Menace.

In Philadelphia on Saturday, there will be two women's marches in two different parts of the city.

HELLLLOOOOOOO.....

Are we forgetting something here? The evil afoot is worse than any single female agenda! Who is the enemy? Trump is the enemy! He and his ilk can only benefit if women fracture their solidarity.

Anyone who thinks this past election has put us in the clear should look at the voting results. My boy Andy Kim won by about 700 votes. That's what I call hanging by a thread.

We can't afford to squabble among ourselves. For the love of fruit flies! This is exactly what they want.

Therefore, without a sign and without prejudice, I, Anne Johnson, intend to travel into Philadelphia and march with whatever march I come to first. So what if I'm an old, suburban white woman? I'm a voter. I'm a worker. United we stand, divided we fall.

I want that horror of a human being out of office. That's all that matters.

Happy Birthday, Barbie!

Can you believe it? Barbie turns 60 this year. I actually think she looks younger now than she did in 1959.

EXHIBIT A: BARBIE 1959

To be honest, as a little girl, I found Barbie disconcerting. I didn't like her big tits or the fact that her feet were constructed so she could only wear high heels.

EXHIBIT B: BARBIE 2019

What do you know? Her tits are smaller, but she's still wearing those heels! Come on, Barbie. Eat some cake! You're too thin!

Actually I have some very good news for Barbie. I, too, was born in 1959. In just a few weeks I'll be eating a whopper of a cake -- and Barbie can help me polish it off!

Gosh, I can hardly believe it. I'm almost 60. I feel blessed to have come this far. Sure, there are aches and pains, but I'm hardy and working every day. All the same, 60 can make you a bit existential. Unless you're Barbie.

Readers, I have arrived at the age of 60 hardly having done any traveling at all in my life. So this Spring Break I will embark on an epic quest for my Thunderbird soul-mate. I'll tell you about it very soon!

Destroyer of Worlds

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," brought to you from the Great Blue Northeast since 2005! We've got millionaire neighbors here now, but that only makes it more likely that we will flaunt our radical left-wing agenda. And possibly eat the rich.

I don't know if you've kept up with the alt-right and their symbol appropriation.  Long story short, this cute little frog has become the alt-right's mascot.

Poor little guy! My heart bleeds for him. (What else would you expect from a bleeding heart liberal?)

It seemed only a matter of time before the radical left responded in kind. An eye for an eye, and all that nonsense.

Last year, the Philadelphia Flyers unveiled a new hockey mascot who is so magnificently hideous that he practically melts steel. His name is Gritty.

As luck would have it, the very week the Flyers unveiled Gritty, Donald Trump visited Philadelphia for a fundraiser. Protesters gathered, and more than a few signs featured Gritty, telling Trump to get out of the city.

Don't ask me why the Flyers promotional team didn't match up the rhyme ... but they didn't.

Gritty caught on immediately as a foil to the alt-right's frog. From local origins he has branched out in all his tangerine glory. Even the New York Times made a snooty note of it. Now you can't go to a protest of any sort without seeing Gritty on signs or decals.

Don't mess with Philadelphia when it comes to being bad-ass.

The first time I laid eyes on Gritty, I thought he was what one might see if one watched Sesame Street while licking a cane toad or swallowing questionable mushrooms. But wow, did I warm to him quickly when he stepped into the political arena!

The title of this post, "Destroyer of Worlds," comes from the t-shirt my daughter The Fair gave me for Christmas.

All I have to say is, if Gritty can destroy the world our nation is descending into -- where we're held hostage by a lunatic narcissist and his venal flunkies -- then you go, Bearded Wild Thing! Have at them!

PS - He came to the Mummers Parade. Imagine that!

Yes, that's me hugging him. He was in my unit.

Interview with a Bored Goddess: Ma'at

Good day, and welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" This is the site where we designate deities to duties that need to be done. Yes, reader, you too can become a Prayer Warrior -- just choose a God or Goddess who will heed your call, and then pray your heart out.

And boy, am I praying today! I've had the scouts out everywhere, looking for Ma'at, the sacred ancient Egyptian Goddess of Truth and Justice.

Used to be, I didn't have a bit of trouble getting such ancient and venerable deities to join me for a bracing beverage and a fireside chat. In these times, They are not as accommodating. My first message from Ma'at was: "Busy sorting wing feathers. Call me back when that lying sack of sated dung beetles is no longer your leader."

Can you blame her one bit? But I petitioned again, more urgently this time, and she has joined me for scones. Please give a warm, wonderful, "Gods Are Bored" welcome to Ma'at, Goddess of Justice!

Anne: Thank you so much for coming! You must be furious about the lack of justice in America right now.

Ma'at: Honestly, Anne? When was America ever a just nation? Just because Americans recite "and liberty and justice for all" every damn day doesn't make it happen.

Anne: You've got a point, o winged wonder. But Ma'at ... I've been searching high and low for you because America needs you, right now! It's a small but crucial assignment, and I sure hope you'll accept it.

Ma'at: Well, tell me what it is, and I'll check my Outlook calendar to see if I'm available.

Anne: Snap, I'm impressed, Goddess! I can't figure out Outlook calendar to save my life! Not surprised deities can do it, though.

Ma'at: So, what is it, and when do you need me?

Anne: It's this, and I'm about 10,000 times more serious than usual: Our great justice, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, is having health problems. She's 85 and still on the job -- trying to hold out for a sensible president to replace her, instead of the Orange Gibbon currently in charge.

Ma'at: 85, you say? That's advanced age, right there. Any kind of health problem or surgery can really take a toll on a person of that many years.

Anne: I know, I know! I'm worried sick! Ma'at, will you please, please, please drop whatever else you're doing and take up protective watch over Ruth Bader Ginsburg?

Ma'at: That's a pretty cheeky request, Anne! You think I don't have anything else to do? I'm busy all the time! I have a thriving praise and worship team, not to mention all the superior art work to supervise.

Anne: Dear Goddess, it is with the utmost humility that I approach you and petition you to protect Justice Ginsburg. I'll put it to you this way: Who cribbed your holy edicts and passed them off as original?

Ma'at: The Judeo-Christians, that's who!

Anne: Well, a good passel of them are praying that Ruth Bader Ginsburg dies.

Ma'at: Say no more. I'll put my other appointments on hold. Where can I find this Justice Ginsburg?

Anne: Washington, DC, I think. She works there, and if she's resting at home, I assume her home is there. Not sure, though. But you're a Goddess, Ma'at! You can find this person, can't you?

Ma'at: Consider it done! However, I require something from you (and whoever else reads this) in return. Please petition Me to do this important job. I want to be recognized for my contributions to *ahem* American "justice."

Anne: Trust me, Ma'at. I'm going to be praying to You daily. This is some serious shit here. I have children to think of -- daughters and students -- who need Justice Ginsburg alive and on the bench. To my three readers, I say (and I have never said this before) ... Please petition the Goddess Ma'at to preserve and protect Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg! We need her. Oh, please, Ma'at .....