Witches @ MindSay 
Sarah Palin was de-witched by nutball pastor? What a shame By Mark Morford, SF Gate Columnist Friday, October 3, 2008 -
Here's one way to make a small child's eyes go wide in creepyfun terror: Mention the existence of witches. Real ones. Living ones. Witches living and existing right over there, just off the highway, in sad eerie-looking ramshackle hovels and trailers and barns not a mere few hundred yards from your speeding car, right up there in the parts of rural 1970s Idaho my family would pass through on the way to our little getaway lake cabin up north, deep in the misty, foggy, sunbaked summerland memories of my childhood. Oh yes, the witches were there all right. At least, my parents sometimes hinted that they were, relating, as we zipped by these sweet-but-gloomy little towns, tallish tales of mysterious disappearances and unsolved murders and maybe a mutilated farm animal or two, and then they'd chuckle and wink to each other as my sisters and I stared out the windows, equal parts enchanted and suspicious and petrified. Of course, to my 8-year-old imagination, these Podunk witches were at once terrifically real, and yet somehow, given how they lived in these weatherbeaten tobacco-spit burgs, also sort of tacky, like a cross between the Blair Witch and an emphysemic Wal-Mart greeter -- gaunt harridans in bad housedresses who kept small oozing things in jars and ate live rabbits and picked their six remaining teeth with the bones of small children and watched too much daytime TV and chain-smoked Winston menthols.
Makes me a little sad, then, that trophy VP nominee Sarah "I (Heart) Gibberish" Palin apparently had herself anointed by a true-blue witch-hunter nutball of a pastor, a Kenyan priest name of Thomas Muthee, up at her Wasilla church a few years back, just before becoming governor. Isn't that sweet? Did you see the infamous grainy YouTube video? Did you read the disquieting little sidebar story about Muthee and his now-infamous witch huntin' treks down to Kenya, like that time he stormed into a village and formed an angry mob to drive out an old woman by the name of "Mama Jane" who was supposedly causing illness and traffic accidents and really crappy Wi-Fi connections at the local Starbucks? Charming.
Have you read, furthermore, about Palin's adorable Pentecostal church where Muthee preached, where they like to speak in tongues and lick the skins of serpents and watch NASCAR while shooting moose from the backs of animatronic dinosaurs adorned with "Jesus is My Co-Pilot" bumper stickers? (Note: possible slight exaggeration. But not by much.) It's all sorts of Disney-on-acid fun.
As for Palin, turns out Muthee laid on some hands, delivered a garbled serpents n' brimstone prayer designed not merely to help her leap from Mayor of Nowheresville to perky gubernatorial fireplug, only to later become, thanks to McCain's appalling judgment, the most insulting caricature of female empowerment in modern history who, as the VP debate painfully revealed, still knows not a single substantive thing about American domestic or foreign policy, but also to protect her from that same silly/terrifying witchcraft I imagined in my youth.
So I'm sad, but not necessarily because Palin credits Muthee, who likes to ramble about "spiritual warfare" and "the python spirits," with helping her win the governorship, or even that Palin doubtlessly called upon those same kooky Wasilla extremists to protect her from demonic forces far more horrifying than witches -- like, say, condoms, or gay people, or Charles Darwin.
No, mostly I'm a bit sad because the real, true, lovely witches I now know are nothing like Palin and her clan imagine, and she might never know it -- or, better yet, get a chance to become one herself. See, not only have I happily outgrown my 8-year-old's fear and ignorance and blind dependence on others -- priests, Bibles, departments of Homeland Security -- to tell me what I should be afraid of, or which gods I must kneel before, or how blessed I will be if I only turn off my brain and anesthetize my soul and send in my cash, but I've also learned a thing or two about paganism, Wicca, witchcraftery -- you know, all those juicy beliefs and practices that still give the evangelical set, as the late DFW might say, the howling fantods. Is it worth setting the record straight? Pointing out how true 'n' deep witchcraftery has nothing to do with evil or Satan or excessive black eyeliner or sacrificing newborn babies while listening to Ministry and smoking cloves? That those who've taken up this most ancient and potent of callings actually study their enchanted craft for years and know more about, say, the cycles of the moon and the body and the rhythms of the planet than Sarah Palin's most secretest pagan fever dream could ever conjure? Really, the irony of this whole affair is just too tasty to pass up.
Because real witches are, of course, all about self-determination, complete spiritual freedom, and are often practiced in the innate magic of the earth, the body, the self. Most follow no particular deity or dogma, though that's entirely optional (you can be a witch and a Christian, for example). Truth is, it's too bad Palin's not a witch herself. She'd be so much more interesting. And, you know, useful. Hell, I know a number of happy, accomplished, practicing witches at work and play in the normal world right this very minute, running errands and playing with their kids and texting their boyfriends, not a single one of whom is currently indulging in a ritualistic blood-drenched sex orgy at the feet of Lucifer. Wait, let me check Facebook ... nope, all normal.
As for the Wiccans, well, those witches are, of course, even more about nature and fertility and earthly ritual, a deep, life-affirming reverence for the cycles of life, for protecting the environment and celebrating the body, and it's all wrapped in a rather limitless chthonic self-determination and therapeutic ritual magick that's essentially the ideological opposite of what evangelical Christianity often wallows in. I mean, is it any wonder they're so terrified?
Ah, but Muthee and his clan are probably right about one thing: It's extremely likely that most Wiccans and witches of the world are, right this moment, holding all sorts of ceremonies and casting all sorts of spells against the idea of a Palinocracy, working hard to conjure great heaps of positive, divinely feminine energy so as to thwart the rise to power of this imposter female. Makes perfect sense, really. After all, as any real witch knows, it's when you give the real demons of the world -- fear, intolerance, dogma, narrow-mindedness, ignorance, lack of choice, religious fanaticism -- too much sway, well, that's when all hell breaks loose.
Not really... I have felt Autumn in the air the last few days, and I think when I head out to class today I should feel it even more. The high today is supposed to be something like 93 and it's supposed to be cloudy. Woo! Anyway... I have been thinking about getting some spicy candles/incense to set the mood for the coming season, which, as everybody should know, IS MY ABSOLUTE FAVOURITE! As for Mabon in particular...It is also a favourite sabbat of mine (not necessarily THE favourite, though..). I've been doing some thinking about gathering things for my altar (which still needs work... I'm glad to have one again at all, though) and mostly I plan for these things in my head. My sabbat celebrations have always been quiet and meditative, and this will be the first sabbat I'll be observing since returning to my wee pagan path (not very wee, actually...). I know of a circle which will be held here in the city which I would like to attend. Whether or not I attend, I will probably end up having my own small ritual.
Anyway, it may be a bit odd considering what is happening in this season, but Autumn is when I feel most alive and happy. I always remember that one PostSecret card I read which said, "I feel most alive when everything around me is dying" and it had dead Autumn leaves on it. Maybe it is that heightened awareness of death, darkness, etc. that gives something of a rush... It's hard to describe. Anyway, it's my favourite.
I must be off to class.
G'Day.
Okay, this is part two in my attempt to get caught up recreating my deleted account. Yikes! Good thing I like working on the Internet!
Another website I recently created was www.WitchHuntNovel.com. It is the official website for the rare, out-of-print classic Wiccan novel by Devin O'Branagan, called WITCH HUNT. It is a multi-generational saga about a family of witches, that takes them from their persecution during the Salem witch trials, to a modern-day, fundamentalist Christian-inspired witch hunt. The research is amazing and--since wicca is my own religion--I know my stuff. So, apparently, does Devin. It is breathtaking in its accuracy and its spiritual and magical insights.
The amazing cover won an award as one of the best covers of the year. It was designed by the famous artist Keith Birdsong, who designs many of the STAR TREK book covers.
It has adult content, however, and should be only read by adults. Lots of sex and violence, but that was the nature of the persecutions, I guess.
Anyway, I have so much to say that I need to do it in short bursts or I will be overwhelmed. Please check back as I continue with the saga of recreating the massive blog that was vanquished by some evil power.
Hmmmm? I wonder if there's a novel in that?
On Wednesday, June 25th: NBC Today Show host Kathy Lee Gifford began a sentence by saying "The Pagans, the nasty, bad, Pagans, believed ..."
Now, how about that objective journalism there, folks!?
This is how the witch hunts begin.
Please read WITCH HUNT by Devin O'Branagan. It is dedicated to all those who have been, and continue to be, persecuted in the name of religion...
Digging further back into my past, I uncovered my earliest paintings of Melusine. During the spring and summer of 1991, I discovered a little book of French fairy tales and thus my obsession with Melusine began. I even attempted to write a new detailed view of the Melusine myth, one that I firmly believed would appeal to a brand new audience and then everyone I knew would love me for it, but I wasn't yet mature enough to tackle such a daunting task and the story I worked so hard on for a whole summer was lost. Later I turned to roleplaying games for inspiration. I would "play" Melusine as a superhero code named "Vipress" and not just write about her. I was in love with a group of guys I used to game with and they all treated me like a tag along girlfriend -- you know, someone else's woman whom they had to include in their reindeer games so they wouldn't piss off their friend, Tom, my boyfriend. I knew I wasn't as liked by them as I liked them. So I was the odd one out in our GURPs Supers game. Clueless about the rules, yet beaming with creativity and the joy of taking an active part in a game that seemed reserved only for the boys, my heart would soon break when the boys would get into heated discussions over rules and thus ending the "play" to the roleplaying game.
Frustrated with roleplaying, I went back to my apartment and, still new to the art making world, I bought some cheap poster board and acrylic paint and created the first two paintings you see above. I first drew the figures in pencil, then darkened my lines with a bold sharpie marker, and painted the figures up with the paints. For working with the cheapest materials possible, my imagination and concentration yielded some great results. I remember when I hung up the finished paintings in my room, my roleplaying buddies were quick to remark that "I was showing improvement" in my work. They didn't need to be so hypercritical, or so patronizing, but at age 19, and coming from a family who put me down and never supported me for choosing art as a career, I was willing to take ANY compliment as a sign of approval.
Looking back at these paintings, I can clearly see the comic book and roleplaying game influence on my style. But the world I sought to join, that of the science-fiction/fantasy gaming community, would continue to test my patience. Late summer 1991 would see me travelling to every sci-fi convention I could get to -- I bummed rides from friends, suffered endless bus rides, and even went to my first comic book convention in Chicago carrying a substantial load of paintings taller than my hieght (I'm five feet tall). I didn't know back then that I wouldn't have to carry so much, that I should've just took photographs, but I was so enthusiastic that my heavy, awkward load didn't matter. I was determined to get a job.
Gen-con 1991 (when it was still held in my hometown, Milwaukee) I discovered a new roleplaying game company that seemed to accept me: Whitewolf. They seemed as excited as I was about my artwork. There was an exchange of phone numbers. I met their staff. We had dinner. It was cozy, friendly, and everyone I met was anxious about their Vampire: The Masquerade game. A game that would later become incredibly popular and it would seem like my style of art would be made for (see the third painting for reference) . A game I almost got hired to illustrate (they really liked my witch with the bloody offering painting above). Except I made a big mistake: the group of gamers I went to the convention with, the boys I loved so dearly and would've done anything for, were arrogant sons-of-bitches and didn't get along with the art director. Maybe they were over protective of me. Whitewolf, in its infancy as a company, wasn't offering any pay for publishing art and yet I would not be able to own my art after it was published -- basically I would've been giving it away. This gaming company would later on be very popular and once they were making money, of course they finally offered to pay illustrators for their work. No matter, I wasn't bound to get my "break" with them and seven years later I'd further sour my chances to get into the company when I got into a fight with the same art director. But that's another story.
We want to talk more about Melusine and why she's made such an impact on me.
There's a lot of me in the figure of Melusine. I began to dream about fairies, especially about Melusine. I saw her as a very real, very tangible character. The more I learned about her, the more I felt like her.
Melusine wouldn't be the only fairy queen kind of character I would dream of. The summer of 1991 was one of those times of my life where the other world seemed to surround me. I was so open to everything new, I was even going out to the woods in the middle of the night hoping to spy me some real fairies. The last image is a close up of a very large ink and pastel crayon painting of a fairy queen named Jhana (GAH-nah). I still have the dream journal I kept during that year and Jhana was my primary "spirit guide" who, through riddle and poetry told me a lot about myself. In my painting of her, I can clearly see aspects of myself, as if this was more of a vision about who I was to become in the future.
I still want to wear the headdress she's got on. Isn't it gorgeous?
Well, no matter what my misadventures in the realm of roleplaying games and science-fiction, I still have the joy these characters bring -- that was never lost and remains safely guarded, stored in my loft, waiting to be rediscovered. Today I uncover them and share them here... images from a time when I was more innocent. Just look at the last two self-portraits. I appear child-like and medieval, not yet prepared or mature to emerge into the big world.
I like myself much better now and wouldn't go back in time to relive the past, but it is nice to appreciate where I'm coming from. I'm much closer now than I ever was to getting published. Good to peek back and pat myself on the back. It's time to go back to the drawing board and concentrate on the present again. There are exciting things to come... just wait and see.
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