Dark Moon Petition to the Goddess Columbia

I salute the hawk of dawn, whose path marks the bounty of the fruitful Earth. I call upon the powers of the East. May there be peace in the East.

I salute the great stag in the heat of the chase, and the crucible of the Sun. I call upon the powers of the South. May there be peace in the South.

I salute the salmon of wisdom who dwells in the pool from which all rivers run. I call upon the powers of the West. May there be peace in the West.

I salute the great bear who shines in the northern sky and marks our paths in the dark of night. I call upon the powers of the North. May there be peace in the North.

May there be peace throughout the land.


Who do I honor on this Dark Moon?

I honor the Goddess Columbia and her angel, Lady Liberty.

Why do I honor the Goddess Columbia and her angel, Lady Liberty?

They stand for all that is good and great in the United States of America: prosperity for the laborer, justice for the oppressed, a home for all the huddled masses yearning to be free.

In these times it is good and right to honor great Columbia. She can move Her citizens to seek the truth and to protect the rights of the vulnerable. She can preside over the health and well-being of Her people. She can right the course of the Ship of State.

And so I petition you, Goddess Columbia, to preside in Your District that bears Your name. Protect the health of Justices Ginsburg, Breyer, Sotomayor, and Kagan. Move the minds of men to true justice for the people. Your people. Draw more women into your sacred halls of power. And keep them there. Stand strong against the powers of darkness and the tyranny of the minority.

My country, 'tis of thee
Sweet land of liberty
Of thee I sing.
Land where my fathers died
Land of the pilgrims' pride
On every mountainside
Let freedom ring!

Justice to the oppressed. Peace and serenity in our homes. Health and well-being for all. The freedom of body and soul. So might it be.

Let us join in the prayer that unites all Druids:

Grant, O Gods and Goddesses, thy protection, and in protection, strength,

                        And in strength, understanding,

                        And in understanding, knowledge,

                        And in knowledge, the knowledge of justice,

                        And in the knowledge of justice, the love of it,

                        And in the love of it, the love of all existences,

                        And in the love of all existences,

                        The love of the divine and all goodness.

Awen. Awen. Awen.

I salute the hawk of dawn, whose path marks the bounty of the fruitful Earth. I call upon the powers of the East. May there be peace in the East.

I salute the great stag in the heat of the chase, and the crucible of the Sun. I call upon the powers of the South. May there be peace in the South.

I salute the salmon of wisdom who dwells in the pool from which all rivers run. I call upon the powers of the West. May there be peace in the West.

I salute the great bear who shines in the northern sky and marks our paths in the dark of night. I call upon the powers of the North. May there be peace in the North.

May there be peace throughout the land.

This rite is complete. May its petition remain with us in the apparent world.

Blessed be.

An Open Call to Ancient Goddesses -- Experience Required, Full Time +

HELP WANTED -- START IMMEDIATELY

Position(s) open for Ancient Goddesses with specialty in maternal nurture.

Duties: Creating miracles for suffering mothers, fathers, and children in a morally bankrupt nation run by barbarians. Effectively blocking considerable negative power structure, most persistently against an evil ruler and his minions. Imparting peace and safety to the poorest and most disenfranchised citizens of said barbarous nation.

Hours: Full time, with considerable overtime a distinct possibility. Must be willing to work weekends and late nights. Must be willing to devote entire energy to this blighted country without any expectation of spiritual reward.

Compensation: Candles lit for you nightly by one pathetic little worshiper who has faith in next to nothing and who cannot remember a darker time in her entire life, including but not limited to the 1960s.

Benefits: Two-week vacation (if no calamity intervenes), health care with a limited primary care provider in network, and the aforementioned candles.

Experience required: 500-1000 years prior deity service to a praise and worship team consisting of Homo sapiens sapiens. No known connection to any pantheon of historical record (assuring your complete focus on this position). References, in the form of ancient archaeological artifacts, required.

Apply on Summer Solstice to Anne Johnson, as she is weeping for the pain of others and feels helpless and inept.

Equal Opportunity Employer.

Another March

My my, I do get my exercise! Another year, another march.

The good thing about being appointed president (rather than elected) is that no one knows what I look like. I'm therefore free to mingle with the citizenry. I will do so in Philadelphia at this year's Women's March.

Last year my daughter Gumby and I went to Washington, DC for the Women's March on Washington. Gumby put me through it, I tell you. She wasn't satisfied until we got all the way to the White House ... from RFK Stadium, a round trip of 8 or more miles.

EXHIBIT A: GUMBY AT THE WOMEN'S MARCH ON WASHINGTON, WHITE HOUSE

Learned my lesson, for sure! Can't keep up with Gumby! As I understand it, both of my daughters will be attending the march in Philly, but I'm not going with either one of them.

Instead, I will be joining a troupe called Drum Like a Lady . I am totally stoked. I can't decide whether or not to take my doumbek, but the tambourine is portable and can keep a heartbeat. Being part of the drum corps means I'll get a front seat at the speakers' podium.

I don't care about front seats, but drumming up some energy ... well, that's the ticket.

Judging by how many of my friends and acquaintances are attending this march (12 in rough count), it is going to be a vast throng of humanity.

And what is the purpose of large political rallies? Solidarity and sisterhood. Sending a message. Considering how thin-skinned some elected presidents are, it's got to be a thorn in the side.

I hope, wherever you are, you'll set aside a few minutes on Saturday to petition the Goddess Columbia for a safe end to the madness. Take a minute and bang a pot in front of your house. Or put up a sign.

EXHIBIT B: THE PRAYER WARRIORS HATE THIS GODDESS

EXHIBIT C: ANNE'S TO-DO LIST

1. Make a sign or bring a drum.
2. March
3. Campaign
4. Vote

We resist. We persist. We rise.

Interview with a Bored Goddess: Cloacina

All Hail, and welcome to The Gods Are Bored! We're now in our 12th year, and up to 202 followers! In a nation of 325 million people, we're standing tall at the rock bottom of the heap.

But la di dah, we believe in the Divine and all goodness! And just between us ... have you seen the headlines on the busy God's followers these days? How low can they go? Disgraceful. No better time than the present to bliss out with a loving Goddess who wants you to have a healthy lifestyle and plenty of clean, clear water! Please give a warm, wonderful, Gods Are Bored welcome to Cloacina, Goddess of Sanitation Management!

Anne: Look, Cloacina, I painted the powder room! I know it's your favorite room in the whole house. What do you think of it now?

Cloacina: It's beautiful! I do wish you would put a mosaic tile on the floor, though.

Anne: Can't live like a Caesar on the salary of a peasant, dear Goddess.

Cloacina: What was that object you pulled out of the water throne while the top was off?

Anne: (aside) Isn't it cute? She calls the toilet a "water throne!" (to Cloacina) Funny you should ask. It was a paperweight from the Ronald Reagan Library, sent to Mr. J more than a decade ago by a clueless friend in California. I put it in the water throne, feeling it deserved to be there.

Cloacina: Who was this "Ronald Reagan?"

Anne: A Caesar. I thought he was the worst. Little did I know.

Cloacina: If this was a bad Caesar, why take out the paperweight?

Anne: Well, it had gotten a bit calcified after all that time. Besides, I need to make room in the water throne for something that deserves to be in there even more.

Cloacina: What could that possibly be?

Anne:

I found it in a strip club parking lot last week!

Cloacina: Anne, you might want to think twice about this. An item like this might clog the water throne, and then the dear thing won't work.

Anne: No worries, Goddess. This hat is cheaply manufactured by over-extended, poverty-stricken workers. It will fade on the first flush and dissolve within a week. Which hopefully will become a metaphor for the Caesar who is selling it.

Cloacina: Oh well, you needn't worry! I have learned all about your water thrones and the piping in your house, and I will keep everything flowing brilliantly!

Anne: Thus saving me plumbing bills ... O Great and Mighty Goddess!!!

Cloacina: I hope you don't mind if I'm late for dinner. All that wind yesterday brought down a lot of leaves. There are storm drains to be seen to.

Anne: And you are just the Goddess for the task! Work Your magic, Cloacina! It is an honor beyond measure, having You in my household. Blessed be.

My Awesome Speech at the Girl Scout Jamboree

Lately I've been having fantasies about being president. Like, a black SUV stops in front of the house, picks me up, and drives me straight to the White House, where I take over immediately.
 I never had these fantasies before. As a woman of a certain age, I know that presidents have to be male. This is America.

Even though I can't really dream of becoming president, I can still be the featured speaker at the annual Girl Scout Jamboree! I've drafted my speech, and I'm waiting for them to call. You can read it below:

ANNE ADDRESSES THE GIRL SCOUTS OF AMERICA, 2017

Hello there, lil' ladies! My, look at you! All clean and well-groomed, shying away from those pesky bugs so your uniforms won't get dirty! Oh, that takes me back to my youth in the 1960s! I was a Girl Scout in good standing for years. I still have my sash, and it is covered with badges. Cooking, reading, health care, safety, dance, art, pet care, citizenship ... I've got tons of badges. I'm very proud of them.

This is no exaggeration when I say that I trudged through icy cold slush to sell Girl Scout cookies. I know, I know, it's something that could be an urban (actually rural) legend ... but in this case it is absolutely true! I trudged through icy cold slush to sell Girl Scout cookies!

How do you know it's true? Because I got my feet icy cold and soaking wet, and I didn't sell any cookies! You see, Girl Scouts, every girl in my neighborhood was also a Scout, which meant that she was also selling cookies. The competition was fierce. The winners, of course, were the girls with powerful daddies who could take the cookie order sheet to their offices and factories and get orders by the dozen. Here's your first lesson! Life is all about wealth and power, and if you don't have it ... I mean, if your daddy isn't rich, you might as well give up on those cookies and any other big dream you have. You'll be able to supply your immediate family with nice, fresh cookies, and they will love you for it. But those big orders? Forget it. The deck is stacked, my dear little tots.

Speaking of stacked decks, you know all those uplifting speeches you get from your Girl Scout leaders about how you can be anything you want to be? I really hope you don't believe that. Start with your Scout leaders themselves. Who are they? Mommies who cram Scouting into their already over-busy days in some tedious, middle management position where they report to male supervisors. There's nothing fake about the New York Times, and they are here to tell you that the top is not within your reach. Seriously, you should do what I did. Toil anonymously for years, lose your position to a man, and become a school teacher! Better yet, save yourself the frustration of losing your job to a man and go straight into school teaching! At least then, at age 58, you won't be painting cinderblock all summer in the heat like I'm doing. You'll be ready to retire, possibly with a pension!

Dear Scouts, the list of things you can't do is long and wide. Pretty much choose a profession that doesn't require you to care for other people tenderly at a low wage, and you won't be able to rise far in it. But don't be sad! Think of all the good things you can have as a woman in our society! You can drink wine, and sell Mary Kay cosmetics, and wear fast fashion, and own lots of cats. Who doesn't love cats? Adopt a cat, revolve your life around it, and give up those silly plans to pursue a STEM career!

Remember when everyone told you a woman would be president of the USA some day? Me too, and look how that turned out.

I'm just trying to protect you from the crushed and broken dreams I see when I look in the rearview mirror at my own pathetic but predictable life. From age nine, when I couldn't try out for Little League, right up to the present, I've played second fiddle to men who -- if they were better at all -- weren't that much better than me. At the risk of being repetitive, let me say again: Save yourself the bother. Set your lil' eyes on a service profession. Only do it in a hurry, because society is encouraging unemployed men to seek those jobs too. I know of at least one mediocre male nurse who got a job in a jiffy! Look smart, or you might not even be able to snag one of those coveted, low-paying, high-stress service jobs!

I know what you're thinking: What's good about being a woman? Ha ha! At least you'll know for sure that you are the parent of your child! What dad can truly say that? *fist pump*

Oh no! Don't cry! Whoa ... I'm making you cry! No no, there is a silver lining, my children.

Long ago, when life was tough and short, women got all the props for keeping the Tribe alive. It was an honorable thing to be a mother, and an honorable thing to keep the peace and solve disputes and issue wise directives. Women were so respected then! So, you ask, how can we restore that essential balance between the genders, short of a massive population crash? Well, I'll tell you. Pray to a bored Goddess. There are so many wonderful, powerful Goddesses out there who've been marginalized by the Big Daddy God. If enough of you Girl Scouts turn your back on the Great I Am and start putting your faith in a better basket, you could indeed change the trajectory of this sagging nation.

So I want all of you out there today to contact your legislators and demand comprehensive health care. It's a right, not a perk. Then I want you to drop those patriarchal Bibles in the recycle bucket and start dealing out the love to the Goddess of your choice! Don't waste time on Christianity the way I did. The captains of that ship will always be men. Find yourself a better boat.

If enough of you Scouts ditch the busy God, you could be part of a Great Awakening in America. Perhaps it would at least give you positions of religious leadership, which are, after all, the jobs your foremothers held in the Days before Time.

One last thing. The only insect you really need fear is the common mosquito. Everything else that crawls should be quietly respected. How would you like it if some bug looked at you and said, "EWWWWW!!!!! Get it AWAY!!!!!" Damn, that shit's gotta end.

Thanks for listening, and enjoy your Jamboree! And may the Goddess be with you.

The All-American First Cavalry Amazon Battalion

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," with malice toward none ... oh, hell. Who am I kidding? Sometimes the world calls upon you to have attitude. It just does.

And perhaps since I'm feeling so bellicose lately, I received a visit today from the Great Goddess Tabiti, sacred to the Scythians and all Amazon warrior women!

Tabiti actually came because I called Her. In fact, I am petitioning Her as I once did Cloacina. Desperate times call for all the Goddess power readily available!

Maybe you have heard that there is going to be a Women's March on Washington on January 21, 2017. I have already made plans to attend, along with Heir and Spare. The current number of attendees is 100,000 -- but that's just people who clicked a button on Facebook. My guess is that this march could bring five times that many women to town.

Word of this activity has reached across the news spectrum, finally filtering its way down into the cesspit occupied by the old fartbag named Rush Limbaugh.

Rush couldn't resist. He called the march "The All-American First Cavalry Amazon Battalion," and suggested that the women in attendance would synchronize their periods so as to be bleeding all together on that day.

Ask any Amazon, and she will tell you: When your enemies mock you, cleave them in twain with a battleaxe. Having accomplished that, take anything they have of worth and use it against their tribe.

I asked the Goddess Tabiti what she thought of All-American First Cavalry Amazon Battalion, and she said it sounded wonderful ... noble ... powerful. I agree! Traditional Amazon women were badass as fuck! They wore tattoos and smoked weed and lived in a society where everyone wore pants. Makes you pine for antiquity, doesn't it?

To my veteran and new readers, take heed. I, Anne Johnson, have been named a lieutenant in the All-American First Cavalry Amazon Battalion. I take my commission from Tabiti herself. On January 21, 2017 I will obey the call to march. And you're gonna hear me roar.

All STEM and No Flower

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," home of a proud Pagan who grew up in the era of Mad Men! Yes, my darlings, I am just a tad too young to have been at the Summer of Love, but I only missed it by an eyebrow.

I think of my childhood often. It was a time when little girls wore dresses to school and played with dolls. It was a time when bedrooms were filled with pink, fluffy pillows, and playing dress-up. Girls competed to be cheerleaders, baton twirlers, and beauty queens. The expectation was that we would all grow up to be good mothers and wives, careful of our appearances and deft with pinking shears.

And then the feminist movement came along. Suddenly all those pink teddy bears were considered the harbinger of domestic slavery. In order to be fulfilled, a woman had to have a job. Beauty queens were denounced as vapid, and sewing classes were ripped from the curriculum.

You know what? I'm sitting here today, having grown up alternately hugging my pink teddy bear and playing Vietnam War with a toy machine gun, wishing for all the world that I knew how to sew.

I'm rambling. Maybe you need to scroll down and watch the commercial for GoldieBlox and then return to the sermon while I gather my thoughts.

I saw this commercial Thursday at a seminar I attended for school teachers. The topic of the seminar was STEM. If you've been snoozing through the more boring parts of the national news, you might have missed the fact that STEM stands for Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math. This is a serious acronym.Be forewarned: ALL the jobs of the future, EACH and EVERY ONE, will be STEM jobs.

If you're a little girl who likes to dress up like a faerie, or a princess, or (Gods forbid) you like to play with baby dolls, you are SOL (acronym for Shit Outta Luck). You are going to be left in the dust by all those brainy STEM girls who played with GoldieBlox!

When did undermining the patriarchy become mashing the matriarchy?

We worship Venus, the Goddess of love and beauty; Athena, the Goddess of wisdom; Brighid, the Goddess of creativity; and Danu, the nurturing Mother of all. Oh, let me not forget Freya, who can hold Her own in battle with the best of 'em.

The Goddesses have many faces and many talents. Within Their ample spheres of influence, there's plenty of room for little frilly dresses (Versace makes them for big people and earns a swell salary), teddy bears (love the stuffed one, love the polar one), and baby dolls.

To me, a commercial that glorifies blowing up a baby doll is horrific. The implication is crystal clear. If you want to make it in a man's world, little girl, there's no room for motherhood. Why practice nurture on a doll?

It's time for a push-back on this, friends.

STEM is fine, it is indeed where the jobs will be. But it is being touted as the only reason for developing problem solving and critical thinking. Which is about the biggest heap of rubbish as I've ever seen. The only technology Emily Dickinson used was a pen and some paper. And yet even the finest psychological scientists use her work to explain and examine the human condition. Not sure on this, but I'll bet Emily had a baby doll in her childhood.

I'm deeply concerned about several things that I see as dangerous to the GoldieBlox generation:

1. the notion that there's no reward or creativity in the nurturing of children
2. the notion that there's no creativity in princess/beauty queen/dress-up play
3. the notion that girls are compartmentalized into "pinks" (dolls, boas, teddies) and "just like boys" (blocks, STEM, career success)
4. the appalling worry that market share for Legos will plummet because now girls have their own damn blocks, just for girls

When it comes to gender, it's not "them against us." The lines are completely blurred. And when it comes to fine minds, the lines are just as blurred. STEM creates the pen, but it doesn't write the poem. STEM makes the machine, but Versace designs the dress. When the world is all STEM and no flower, who will want to tend the garden?

One thing is for damn sure. When you disrespect the noble calling of motherhood, you inherit the wind.GoldieBlox sux. End of sermon.

Imbolc 2009

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored" on Imbolc weekend 2009! We are offering a great opportunity on a wonderful bored Goddess. Get Her now or get Her later, but by all means get Her!

That Goddess is Brighid, Goddess of creativity, home and hearth, and the fabulous She who laid her silver mantle across the Earth and made it hospitable for humans.

Perhaps because She loves creativity (and warm homes), Brighid never allowed Herself to be hustled into obscurity by more rapacious deities. She strolled into Christianity as St. Brigid, for the sole purpose of staying in our minds until we re-discovered her divinity.

Although we at "The Gods Are Bored" respect all aspects of the divine, Brighid is our Goddess of choice. Over the next week we'll try to make this site worthy of Her.

And now you're thinking, "Anne, you can't be serious long enough to make anything worthy of the Goddess."

To which I reply: "What makes you think the Goddess always wants to be serious, for the love of fruit flies?"

Light a fire. Read a book. Write a book. Hug your loved ones. Let that pesky silverfish run under the floorboard. Honor the Goddess Brighid in all that you do!

Our operators are standing by to take your call.

Magickal Working for Our Overheated Planet

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," perfectly serious entries about 1/10000th of the time!

On Friday, March 2, please be in meditation to the deity you praise and worship, asking for intercession in this grave global warming situation. Nothing has a greater potential to ruin our world, except perhaps a rogue meteorite or the Yellowstone Caldera.

Meditation will begin at 7:30 p.m. The deity to whom you address you concerns is your business, not mine.

If you don't believe in deities of any sort, just turn off your lights for a little while and save the energy.

FROM ANNE

THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS