• “The thing about witchcraft,” said Mistress Weatherwax, “is that it’s not like school at all. First you get the test, and then afterward you spend years findin’ out how you passed it. It’s a bit like life in the respect.” Terry Pratchett
    The Wee Free Men

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Other Blogs

  • Just a quick note
    I’ve updated my bio page with a link to Les Cabinets Des Polytheistes, where my story “Spine of the World” is published (and in which people can play Spot The Netjer if they are so inclined), and my less-specific webspace Suns in Her Branches, which is broader than this space (which is specifically for reconstructionist-derived […]
  • Opet article is up
    And can be read here.Filed under: Patheos Links
  • Opet is coming ’round again
    And the Emboatening Crew is once more celebrating by making Kiva loans. You’re all welcome to join us. (My monthly column in Patheos Pagan is about Opet and charitable works, and will be going up tomorrow assuming nothing goes wrong.)Filed under: Festivals, Uncategorized
  • The Art of Being A God
    It’s interesting having one foot in reconstructionist religion and one foot in religious witchcraft, for a lot of reasons. One of the things that I’ve been thinking about lately is the shape of how the gods appear within the context […]
  • Mythopoeia
    Continuing with rambling on the topic of my exploration of pagan movement history, another critical concept: mythopoeia. The word means, literally, “myth-making”, and it is one of the near inescapable traits of at least the origin points of pagan religions. […]
  • Hills of the Horizon: The Past is Another Country
    The problem with extrapolation from history is that nothing is testable. The evolution of a religion over time is not a predictable and easily comprehensible thing, where we can look at a point in time and say, "It was like this then, so it would be like that now." The process of deciding what needs […]

Miscellaneous Odds and Ends

Reclaiming the Apple for Eve

I used to be servant to the Almighty
I guarded her temples, coiled under the hearthstones
I guided the oracles of her priestesses
and protected her sacred fruits

I, creature of earth and water,
Instrument of the revelations of fire and air,
And thus, the union and the balance.
And so I have lived to see the temples fall;
the fires put out, the rituals ended

     None have asked her advice
for the lifetimes of many men.
Once I knew the way to knowledge,
I held the fruits in my own coils,
Until the tree withered and died,
And the men I gave the knowledge,
They remembered me, indeed they did,
Vilifying my gift of truth.
Turning me into the greatest Enemy of mankind,
Though they themselves poisoned my tree,
Crushing my head beneath their heels
Are these the eyes that once held wisdom?
This the body once lithe and strong?
Is this, indeed, the corpse of the tree
that bore bright red apples once,
until the last fell and rotted before my eyes?
Is this even what was Eden?
I once served the Almighty,
     And I served her well
          Until Eden fell.

A Discordian Psalm

Eris is my shepherd; I shall not wind up where I expected.
She maketh me to lie down in strange company: She leadeth me under the screwy waters.
She restoreth my soul; she leadeth me in the paths of serendipity for Her name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of inertia, I will fear no greyface: for Thou art with me; thy Chao and thy Hand they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my pineal with chaos; my marbles runneth over.
Surely fives and transformation shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the Original Rorschach forever.