No Wonder They Always Ask Us about the Kittens

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" A quick note to President Obama: Yes, dear, Republicans think Democrats are stupid. You should have learned that in grade school. Bear it in mind in the future and act accordingly.

I was supposed to drive to Spoutwood Farm on Saturday to participate in a rehearsal of the pageant we're putting on there during the May Day Fairie Festival at Spoutwood, happening in just 11 short days! (Come and join the Mountain Tribe! We need you!)

On Friday I scuttled the trip after looking at the weather forecast. I've driven home from that area in driving rainstorms before, and I wasn't keen to revisit the experience.

Good thing I decided to stay home, because by mid-afternoon I'd developed a late season bout of the flu. I was pretty sick for about 24 hours, which nicely coincided with a "Tudors" marathon on the telly that was punctuated with numerous Doctor Who commercials.

Today I stayed home because I'm still weak as water. Zero energy. So Mr. J and I were watching random shows this morning. While I half dozed in the chair, he started watching a movie.

Eventually it woke me up because of all the screaming. Turns out it was about four girls in a coven who were wreaking black magic havoc, killing their schoolmates and eventually turning on each other. In the end, the "good witch" girl held all the power, having sent the "bad witch" girl to a padded cell, totally insane, and nearly killing the two others with a fallen tree branch.

This piece of rot was made probably in the 1980s or early 1990s, but it illustrates the pitfalls facing modern Pagans who are asked to speak to the media. Sadly, the people in the media who are asking the questions have most likely been raised on doses of bad witch movies rather than authentic experiences of Pagan practice. My friend Hecate has written some powerful and informative posts about the inevitable plight Pagans find themselves in when dealing with the press -- having to say what they are by explaining what they are not, and then the not gets thrown into the newspaper/telly/etc.

For example:

"We venerate the natural world and the deities within it, promising to harm none and to help all. We seek to restore a positive balance to our place on the planet by promoting sound environmental practices and by advocating for peace. We do not slaughter kittens in pentagrams or paint pentacles on tombstones in Christian cemeteries."

Quote used in the newspaper: "We do not slaughter kittens in pentagrams or paint pentacles on tombstones."

Most people really don't know what Pagans do or how they do it. Most people don't realize that the nice next-door neighbor is a Pagan, the librarian is a Pagan, the seamstress who alters your prom dress is way into Faerie, the fresh spice lady at the farmer's market is a Pagan.

Americans' views of Pagan practice are informed by bad movies, misinformation linking Paganism to Satanism, and deliberate smears on popular programs such as "Focus on the Family." It's very hard for us to counter these stereotypes, and frankly I don't see any pressing need to do so. Maybe it's the hillbilly in me speaking now, but I find that no amount of sane, scientific, or reasonable information will change the thinking of someone who has grown up believing that Pagans slaughter kittens (and hillbillies are lazy and ignorant). If you add to this the sad reality that the media will always chase down the one kitten-killer or lazy Appalachian and do a feature story on that person, you're just sunk.

Therefore, we at "The Gods Are Bored" suggest that Pagans stop talking and start doing. By doing, I mean acts of public charity. Fairy festivals. Earth Day observations. And yes, National Day of Prayer, at which we behave with all the humility and decorum of other faiths.

And as for Pagan Coming Out Day (May 2), I say move with extreme caution. You are up against hundreds of years of bad press that is still in full swing. Don't be surprised if, when you come out, the first thing you get asked about is kittens. I know. It happened to me.

Shhhh!

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," where we're waiting for the Rapture to rupture! I'm your host, Anne Johnson. Yes, that's Anne with an "e." You might think you're Sherlock Holmes enough to figure out which of the 341,000 Anne Johnsons in American happens to be me. Forget it, honcho! There's another Anne Johnson right down the street! How will you know it's me and not her?

There's such security in being Anne Johnson. Cuz I think I'd really suck at making up a blog name.

This faerie is called "The Rebel." Look at him. He's either ticked to the max, or plotting, or both. Maybe he's got something up his sleeve. A secret he keeps to himself, or maybe only shares with other rebellious faeries.

There's been a great deal of talk lately in blogs I read about how Pagans should go public, indeed burst into political activity, in rebellion against the coming Christian oligarchy.

Look at "The Rebel" and think again.

We at "The Gods Are Bored" advocate surrounding our praise and worship activities with a cloak of mystery. Up to and including secret handshakes.

Some people don't like secrets. They like to be all out in the open with the herd, following some clueless leader.

Other people rebel. They start whispering with people who are rebellious as they are. Next thing you know, you've got the Freemasons, secrecy and safety in numbers.

Speaking of numbers, let's crunch some. First, your intelligent, environmentally-sensitive liberal family. Two kids, three max. Responsible and fully cognizant of global overpopulation.

Second, your uber-fundie family. Twelve kids. Forget the environment, the Rapture's on the way. In the meantime, we've bred to the point of majority rule. Let's burn some Pagans!

You think I'm kidding? Ask "The Rebel" above. He's a faerie. He can see the future.

There are two ways to handle this clear and present danger.

1. Make yourself a target now so they'll come for you, and then appeal to the reasonable masses for support as they lash you to the stake. Didn't work in the 17th century, won't work now.

2. Cloak yourself in a divine shield of penetrable secrecy, so that the rebellious among them come to join you.

I like to think of this as praise and worship of the Scarlet Pimpernel variety. If you don't know who the Scarlet Pimpernel is, ha ha! Shhhhh!

Beannacht leat,

THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS

"The Rebel," by Seitou

Dueling Banjos in Pentagrams

It is time to say
Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!"
Pantheons R Us!

Okay, tomorrow night is haiku at Pizza and Poetry. I've gotta practice. As you can see from the above, I've really got to practice.

I wrote this one yesterday before checking my comments section:

My people floated.
They were apples on the flood.
I bob in their wake.

(If I have the syllables wrong, would someone set me straight? I don't want to make a putz of myself in front of a bunch of poets.)

The reason I mention my comments section is because therein I have heard from a writer and scholar who has been very influential in my intellectual development.

Oh, for the love of fruit flies! That's sounds so pretentious I'm about to gag.

I heard from a writer. I like his book so much I keep it on my night stand. It's been there at least five years and is so slathered in highlighter the pages glow in the dark.

The writer is Rodger Cunningham, and his book is Apples on the Flood: The Southern Mountain Experience. Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1987.

Gosh, I looked that date up on the copyright page! Now celebrating its 20th year!

Apples on the Flood is about several things. It is a deep book. It's about the origins of the Scotch-Irish people who settled the southern Appalachians. It's about how those people have been perceived by the wider American community, and how that perception by outsiders has influenced the culture within the mountains.

And more stuff like that. Don't dive in if you don't know how to swim. As I say, it's deep.

The final chapter is called "The Region of Merlin." Yep, you won't see a John Grisham novel at my bedside!

About 300 years ago, Professor Cunningham and I shared some correspondence about his book, because I glean from his thesis some similarities between Appalachians and Pagans. Both groups labor under misperceptions by so-called "civilized society" that are better explained by the behavior of members of the "civilized society."

Okay, it's complicated. And my brain can't wrap around things like it used to. So I'll just say this for now:

Behind Door Number One you've got a dirty, toothless hillbilly, living in a shack and married to his cousin, father to a bunch of murderous halfwits. Don't believe me? Read Deliverance.

Behind Door Number Two you've got a black-hooded, sinister, tattooed Pagan, slaughtering kittens in pentagrams and worshipping Satan in rooms with the walls painted black, where he also dabbles in black magic and drugs. Don't believe me? Listen to Focus on the Family.

I believe I discussed this with Professor Cunningham. (Hey, it was a long time ago ... at the time I had a pet T. Rex named Bongo.) He was interested in the connection I'd made with what's left of my fried brain.

And now, with his permission, I'd like to tune up my banjo and riff on how we Pagans need to understand the apple on the flood dynamic and apply it to save our lives and our religions.

He can email me through my profile. And so can you, if you want to. Our operators are standing by to take your call.

FROM ANNE
THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS

Tackling the Thorny Issue of Bad Faeries

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," home to mad faeries and glad faeries and bad faeries! You tell us your issue, we'll send you a faerie to solve it. If that faerie makes your issue worse, well ... it's a faerie. What do you expect?

The One God people have angels and demons. It's not hard to differentiate. Angels wear white and do good all the time. Demons like black and red, and they do bad all the time. So easy to remember!

Faeries, on the other hand, have no known legitimate color preference. They can be good one day and bad the next. They can be completely dedicated to good, or completely dedicated to bad, or just dedicated to mayhem and mischief.

Let's face it. A demon is not going to spend valuable time hiding your cell phone in the cat box.

That's why it has always bugged us here at "The Gods Are Bored" when someone equates Paganism to devil-worship. Faeries don't urge people to sneak into the woods and gut a cat in a circle of stones. That's the work of your One God demons.

Bad faeries have been known to steal infants and put changelings in their places. I'm not sure how prevalent this is anymore. Haven't heard much about it in the newspaper. On the other hand, my daughter just saw a gutted cat in a circle of stones, right down the street in the park. It's safe to say that demons are being badder, and working at it harder, than the worst of the bad faeries.

Yet the thorny issue of bad faeries remains. Even a modest cluster of them can piss you off. And oh, do they ever take glee in pissing you off! The more flustered you become, the harder they laugh. Your frustration is their fuel.

What's got Anne on this topic today? Well, today was my last day as a long-term substitute teacher. I've been attempting to instruct some young adults in the fine art of writing and reading. I give myself a C-plus. And that's not too bad for someone who never taught school before in her life and never took a single class in how it's done.

When I began this subsitute posting, I replaced a teacher who had the worst infestation of bad faeries I'd ever seen. The classroom was completely snarled with them. The situation was so dire that even the inclusion teacher recognized that something needed to be done. So when the regular teacher embarked for her time off, the inclusion teacher took it upon himself to re-arrange the furniture. And I took it upon myself to purge the room of any bad faeries that might have stayed behind.

Of course you can't banish 100 percent of all bad faeries from any locale. But I did a little better than C-plus. In three months they stole one pair of desk scissors and a reference book on insects valued at $23.00. And of course they took the assignments that some of the kids turned in. I mean, really. In what classroom in the world are you going to find not one single student who says, "But, Miss, I gave you that!" Bad faeries at work.

All in all, with the room more wide-open and the work spaces more tidy, the bad faeries were kept to a minimum.

Monday the regular teacher returned. Doggone if she didn't cart her whole legion of bad faeries right in with her again! She phoned the inclusion teacher and made him come down and "fix" all the "mess" he'd made. Within four hours, four hours, that classroom looked like a flea market on steroids.

Awash in her bad faeries' karma, the returning teacher complained bitterly and loudly when some of the students said they'd miss me. She complained about the lesson I'd planned for her return ("I hate group work. This is the last group project this year!"). She lost everything she put down. (Classic bad faerie, that.) She went through the 2006-07 curriculum standards meticulously and grilled me about what I hadn't covered.

Last week, hearing that state auditors were coming to the school, I stayed until way past dinnertime putting up a nice current bulletin board, as it seems that's what the state auditors want to see. First thing Monday, the returning teacher scrutinized my bulletin board, weighed it in the balance, and found it wanting. (I suppose she was nostalgic for the 95 papers she hung up in September and hadn't taken down by December 10.)

Fearing that bad faeries would steal more student work, I brought home the projects my students completed at the end of the last marking period. Returning teacher wants them brought back to the classroom, even though they've been graded for a previous marking period. She can't wait to get her clutches on these papers so she can prove beyond doubt how little I know about teaching.

Okay, I don't know butkus about teaching. But I do know faeries. Bad faeries will make you irritable. Good faeries make you happy. I don't think it's me the students will miss. I think it's my faeries.

As for the student projects, they will have to go back to the school. The students want them back. I think I'll give them to the inclusion teacher and let him distribute them. He's mighty interested in Druidry.

That's enough for today. Tomorrow, with all the time in the world at my disposal, I'll give you some hot tips on how to purge your surroundings of bad faeries. Or maybe I'll write about something else. Who knows?

FROM ANNE

THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS

"Rebel," by Seitou. Check out Seitou's latest faerie art by clicking the sidebar!

Gods Are Bored Fashion Show

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," clearinghouse for 10,000 One True Religions! Choose, then choose again, then change your mind, and then check out the clearance rack! There's sure to be a deity that's perfect for you, and in your price range, too.

You know what all religions have in common? Whenever two or more people gather together to practice, they're gonna note what the others are wearing.

If you happen to practice in a state of nudity, you're not exempt. Your compadres will still take notes, and make notes, and mull your birthday suit over in their minds, whether they mean to or not.

We at "The Gods Are Bored" get a great deal of Pagan news from The Wild Hunt, a very rational and comprehensive site. Lately the author of this site has reported on a mild frisson among Pagans on what exactly constitutes proper Pagan attire for gatherings of a religious nature.

Some malcontents have actually heaped scorn on the Goth and Medieval attire that is so popular with the New Age crowd.

Argue with this one if you'd like, but I sure wouldn't kick him out of my circle.

One contributor of a comment at "Wild Hunt" suggested that Pagans should "grow up," wear normal clothing, and stop using made-up names, so as to be taken seriously. Tell it to this guy.

Moving on to Exhibit C:

I don't know about you, but when I see these dudes coming, I suddenly remember I have to clear the hair trap in my bathtub. Hi fellas, leave your weird book on the porch and come back for it later!

This bored god thinks we moderns don't go nearly far enough in our body ornamentation.

The point I'm trying to make is, what's the big deal if folks want to wear their SAC or Ren Faire garb to a Pagan worship service? Or, for that matter, the metal-studded black leather pants they just bought on the sale rack at Hot Topic or some other Goth store? It's human nature to want to dress up when you worship -- you're wearing the most expensive items in your wardrobe, after all.

Actually, this looks like fun to me.

Please don't get the idea that every mega-church is brimming to the plimsol line with Brooks Brothers suits and sensible Talbots ensembles in easy-to-clean polyester. These days the Rapture Righties are trying to lure the youthful crowd by allowing their teenagers to get tattoos and wear leather. Think I'm kidding? I know a youth pastor with a shaved head and a tattoo on his neck that says "Jesus Saves." Yo, whatever works, right?

So, the next time you find yourself in a praise and worship situation with like-minded thinkers, please try to curb your sartorial opinions.

If you find this impossible, we at "The Gods Are Bored" remind you that there are any number of bored gods and goddesses that pine for your praise and worship, even if you want to do it in bed, in your flannel jammies, while eating Oreo cookies and watching "Countdown with Keith."

FROM ANNE

Addendum: Home today with the flu, anxiously hoping for sufficient health to wear my own religious attire (see below), I checked the moon schedule. Can one worship with egg on the face? As far as I can figure out the time and tide, tomorrow night is a full moon, with an eclipse to boot. I still hope you'll take a moment Friday at 7:30, turn off your lights, and meditate for a solution to global climate change.

I'm a pretty pathetic Pagan if I can't even keep track of the behavior of the moon. I guess I'm hoping that other Pagans won't care if I'm not perfect.

THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS (dumb made-up name)