It is that time of year again. As the seasons start to shift, the temperatures grow cooler, I start that journey of inward assessment. Even when I try to stop it, to put it off, it rears up anyway. It is part connection to the elements, the seasons, my deities and part internal clockwork.
October is the month marking the new year for witchy kind. The 31st is our time to celebrate the end of one year and the start of a new one.
Whether you call it Samhain, Halloween or Shadowfest it is pretty much the same thing. It is a time to say goodbye to loved ones who have passed, time to look over the year and your life and see what you could change for the better; it is for many of us a time of emotional flux as we seek to strengthen and calm our spirits.
Oddly enough, it is also the time we often have looky loo's seeking us for teaching, although it is often not meant as anything more than a joke to curiosity seekers; it is a time when Christians often lump us in with Satanists and Heathens (those who have no belief in a God or Goddess or any kind of higher spirit) and we combat the old stereotypes.
These days, I hand pick any potential student(s) and often prefer referrals from those I know and trust. It is pretty common for some still wet behind the ears kid to roll up on me (or us pagans in general) demanding answers, secrets, access to our Books of Shadows without so much as a please or thank you. We tend to laugh at that.
No respected, real witch or pagan is going to hand over a BOS nor spell to someone who has no understanding of what they are doing and certainly no respect for the path or the craft. I've been called a wet blanket and a fake so many times AFTER I refused to give over delicatee information to a stranger who threatened me. These days I shrug it off, mark them off as assholes and move on. Neither my Goddesses nor my Gods require me to deal with these ignorant, rude, demanding people.
As the season rapidly approaches, I ask that all who have black or dark colored pets please bring them indoors for their own safety. There are some sick and cruel people out there who are looking to harm animals at this time of year. Safe at your side is where your furred friend belong.
Blessed Be )O(
Monday, September 28, 2015
Thursday, August 27, 2015
Is America Ready for a Nazi in the White House?
When I first heard that Donald Trump was going run for nomination, I actually laughed. I honestly thought someone had made a very funny joke. For real? You're not shitting me? Damn. I guess the party has fallen on extremely hard times.
As long as I can remember politics has been a four letter word, with candidates of both parties possessing some pretty shady qualities and often something approaching criminal ties. In spite of this, I believed that the system was strong enough to withstand a lot of the BS and attempts to bribe, buy or corrupt our political system. I think I was wrong.
The fact that Trump, a questionable man at best, could horn his way into such a position, when he obviously knows squat about politics and has no respect for our nation or its people, really galls me. The fact that the Republican party has grown so corrupt, white, elitist and Fascist in its views disturbs me almost as much as this pompous pouting brat running for our land's highest office. They showed how desperate they were to have a puppet in the White House when they saddled John McCain with human twat waffle Sarah Palin, then they further showed their out of touch position by thrusting Mitt Romney on the scene. I mean, c'mon! His wife bitched that it was his turn! How elitist, blind and idiotic do you have to be to say such a thing?
Now they have Trump.
This man was accused of raping his own wife. He has been caught multiple times degrading women and talking shit about them, the poor, blacks, hispanics and anyone not rich, white and asshole. His removal of Univision's Jorge Ramos was proof of what a racist dick Trump really is. He told the man he did not have the right to speak, he was not called on. Yet the only people Trump called on were white men, no one else. Our President can't throw people out of meetings or press conferences just because he feels like being an asshole that day. We still have freedom of speech and freedom of the press. I guess The Donald never heard of those things.
His fued with Megyn Kelly also proves that he is intimidated by women and has no respect for them. Are you really going to believe a man who is okay with his previous comments describing women as "pigs" and "dogs" ?
This is the same man who called Mexican immigrants rapists, among other foul things, yet himself was accused of raping his former wife, Ivana Trump. Money covers up a LOT of wrong doing, even criminal acts.
Donald Trump is an arrogant, hate filled, cowardly piece of shit in a poor fitting suit who enjoys bullying, degrading and dismissing those he sees as beneath him. I would expect no less from a Fascist dictator wanna be. It is Trump's way or no way. We can't have that leading our country. The things he wants to do, once in office, are criminal acts, in some cases treasonous acts.
Adolph Hitler started out as a charismatic madman who gathered people around him to support his cause and those who did not support him were tortured and murdered. I see too many similarities between Hitler and Trump. Only rich white males mattered, everyone else was fodder for the war and tools to be used and thrown away.
Trump already has white supremacist groups, the Ku Klux Klan and other hate organizations backing him. This belligerent spoiled rich boy wants to step up to our highest office and turn our nation into a dictatorship, he has said as much in his speeches and press conferences. This man is not a real American, he is a terrorist.
For those hard core family value groups out there, this man is NOT what you want. He will take away your rights, and mine, because we are not his big business buddies. He does not support family values or progress for America. For you Christians out there, this man is your wolf in sheep's clothing come to devour you, your livestock and your children. A three time loser, who is on his third or is it fourth marriage? That is family values?
Republicans, if you want to prove you give a fuck about America, then you need to get rid of your biggest problem: Trump. America does not need a new, crazier, more rabid Nazi in the White House. I know you are pissed that a black man got the nod, but you keep throwing racist elitist bullies up in our faces and you will see your worst nightmare come true: President Hillary or President Bernie.
As long as I can remember politics has been a four letter word, with candidates of both parties possessing some pretty shady qualities and often something approaching criminal ties. In spite of this, I believed that the system was strong enough to withstand a lot of the BS and attempts to bribe, buy or corrupt our political system. I think I was wrong.
The fact that Trump, a questionable man at best, could horn his way into such a position, when he obviously knows squat about politics and has no respect for our nation or its people, really galls me. The fact that the Republican party has grown so corrupt, white, elitist and Fascist in its views disturbs me almost as much as this pompous pouting brat running for our land's highest office. They showed how desperate they were to have a puppet in the White House when they saddled John McCain with human twat waffle Sarah Palin, then they further showed their out of touch position by thrusting Mitt Romney on the scene. I mean, c'mon! His wife bitched that it was his turn! How elitist, blind and idiotic do you have to be to say such a thing?
Now they have Trump.
This man was accused of raping his own wife. He has been caught multiple times degrading women and talking shit about them, the poor, blacks, hispanics and anyone not rich, white and asshole. His removal of Univision's Jorge Ramos was proof of what a racist dick Trump really is. He told the man he did not have the right to speak, he was not called on. Yet the only people Trump called on were white men, no one else. Our President can't throw people out of meetings or press conferences just because he feels like being an asshole that day. We still have freedom of speech and freedom of the press. I guess The Donald never heard of those things.
His fued with Megyn Kelly also proves that he is intimidated by women and has no respect for them. Are you really going to believe a man who is okay with his previous comments describing women as "pigs" and "dogs" ?
This is the same man who called Mexican immigrants rapists, among other foul things, yet himself was accused of raping his former wife, Ivana Trump. Money covers up a LOT of wrong doing, even criminal acts.
Donald Trump is an arrogant, hate filled, cowardly piece of shit in a poor fitting suit who enjoys bullying, degrading and dismissing those he sees as beneath him. I would expect no less from a Fascist dictator wanna be. It is Trump's way or no way. We can't have that leading our country. The things he wants to do, once in office, are criminal acts, in some cases treasonous acts.
Adolph Hitler started out as a charismatic madman who gathered people around him to support his cause and those who did not support him were tortured and murdered. I see too many similarities between Hitler and Trump. Only rich white males mattered, everyone else was fodder for the war and tools to be used and thrown away.
Trump already has white supremacist groups, the Ku Klux Klan and other hate organizations backing him. This belligerent spoiled rich boy wants to step up to our highest office and turn our nation into a dictatorship, he has said as much in his speeches and press conferences. This man is not a real American, he is a terrorist.
For those hard core family value groups out there, this man is NOT what you want. He will take away your rights, and mine, because we are not his big business buddies. He does not support family values or progress for America. For you Christians out there, this man is your wolf in sheep's clothing come to devour you, your livestock and your children. A three time loser, who is on his third or is it fourth marriage? That is family values?
Republicans, if you want to prove you give a fuck about America, then you need to get rid of your biggest problem: Trump. America does not need a new, crazier, more rabid Nazi in the White House. I know you are pissed that a black man got the nod, but you keep throwing racist elitist bullies up in our faces and you will see your worst nightmare come true: President Hillary or President Bernie.
Saturday, August 22, 2015
Update August 22 2015
It has been a long time since my last post. For those following this, my apologies. Between some health issues and real life demanding so much, I've been remiss in keeping this updated.
While I do all of my paganism work under this name, I do some fiction work under another pen name. It has to do with keeping my personal and professional and witchy lives separate. Once you have been stalked, threatened, have had your family and pets threatened you become wary of being too public.
Where I live, like many places in the U.S. they do not take threats of violence, torture or death against women (or non-christians, or people of color) seriously. I had a drug dealer attempt to run me down in his car. The police told me that was not possible he was "a good ol' boy". I found out that many of them were on the take, when the "good ol' boy" was busted by the feds, the police department got a real big shake up and we got new officers.
Since all of that we have moved several times, but the conditions are similar where ever you go. You can't trust the police or the local officials. There has been this disturbing trend to protect the rights of criminals while ignoring law abiding citizens' rights.
Anyway, I will try to be more active here. It has just been a very long, stressful year so far and I've been managing to cope with out much energy left over.
While I do all of my paganism work under this name, I do some fiction work under another pen name. It has to do with keeping my personal and professional and witchy lives separate. Once you have been stalked, threatened, have had your family and pets threatened you become wary of being too public.
Where I live, like many places in the U.S. they do not take threats of violence, torture or death against women (or non-christians, or people of color) seriously. I had a drug dealer attempt to run me down in his car. The police told me that was not possible he was "a good ol' boy". I found out that many of them were on the take, when the "good ol' boy" was busted by the feds, the police department got a real big shake up and we got new officers.
Since all of that we have moved several times, but the conditions are similar where ever you go. You can't trust the police or the local officials. There has been this disturbing trend to protect the rights of criminals while ignoring law abiding citizens' rights.
Anyway, I will try to be more active here. It has just been a very long, stressful year so far and I've been managing to cope with out much energy left over.
Sunday, March 9, 2014
BETWEEN FIVE AND SEVEN
This blog post is a continuation of my memoir, picking up where The Calling left off. As this blogging system does not care to recognize my formatting, please pardon the large gaps where there were page break symbols. A warning: to those super-sensitive the subject matter may disturb. I'm sorry for that, but I cannot change the past no matter how much I would like to.
Blessed Be,
Jade
Between the ages of five and seven years old my mother attempted to drown me. I say between 5 and 7 because it was before I started school (I started school at 6 because my birthdate falls later in the year and I missed the enrollment date by being too young). There was the holding my head under water, while claiming to wash my hair in the bath tub, as well as holding my face under a shower spray as I choked and strangled. I was having a fit because I could not breathe and was getting water up my nose and in my lungs. She claimed she did not know, was unaware of my difficulty. Difficulty? I am a human being. I do not breathe underwater.
I do not believe that a caring parent can be so obtuse. You do not disregard your child's ability to breathe!
This was the time that I started noticing odd little things, of which I lumped my mother trying to drown me as a part of. I was often locked outside, alone, and left to amuse myself. I was confined to a small area of our yard, so I could be watched. But I wasn't. My mother often forgot me and my step-father could not have cared less.
She had remarried when I was 2 so the only father figure I had known (besides a doting uncle) was this step-father. He never wanted kids, but he wanted her, so I was always treated as that extra piece of luggage you could discard or leave behind.
It was apparent that I was not wanted around. She kept trying to get pregnant, wanting a baby for herself, but also claiming she wanted to give him the child he never had. It would make us a real family. No it didn't. It never did.
My great-grandmother died around this time. I was stunned at her passing, not entirely sure what had happened. I remember my mother, my grandmother, my aunt, being very upset, and my older cousin being pretty mean about it.
No one had bothered to explain what had happened, and it took me a bit to understand. My cousin used his I'm-older-and-better-than-you voice to tell me how awful I was for not crying. I was a bad person. Hadn't I loved her? Of course I had, I still did! My biggest concern was that when I touched her hand--knowing she would not mind--was that she was too cold. She had often gotten chilly and I was afraid she was cold. I was told that that did not matter, she could not feel it anyway. She was going to heaven. Those words did not console me.
After the funeral, weird things started to happen. My mother got all jumpy and strange, and my step-father was not around at the time. I think he was at work at the time.
My mother was afraid to be on her own after that, and wanted me to stay with her. So, one night as we were trying to sleep, she told me she was afraid. Afraid, I asked? Of what? She confided that she was afraid Bobo--which was the nickname my great-grandmother had--would be lying on the couch in the front room. I reminded her that Bobo was dead, and she would never hurt us, even if she was in the other room.
When my mother became frantic, I agreed to go into the other room alone to see if Bobo was there or not. Of course, she wasn't. I only saw the couch and the empty room, but I am not convinced my mother would have seen the same thing.
At that time I was aware that something had gone on, something had happeed. My mother was very scared, the kind of scared she got when she did something wrong and was afraid she would get caught. She was guilty of something, I just did not know what.
I was given a little duck as a present. I remember how fluffy it looked with its feathers all askew, and the delight it showed at being put in a number two wash tub, half full of water, with a whole two bags of minnows. That little duck had a blast! He also ate till he was stuffed.
I named him Waddles, because of the walk. He started following me every where I went. When I was sent to take out the trash, Waddles followed me. He was a ray of sunshine in my bleak existence. Not surprisingly, he was easy to love and a sweet pet.
For a brief time, life was good.
When my step-father started to beat her, it was a horrific, but occasional thing. It was a shameful and shocking thing to me. I was terrified. I was also told to never say a word about it or I would get it worse. As time passed the beatings and over all violence grew more frequent and then it spilled over on to me.
This was when the danger was cranked up several notches. My step-father liked to flash around his overly large hunting knife, almost as much as he liked to wave around his guns. He really enjoyed pointing his gun at my mother and threatening to pull the trigger. He absolutely terrified me at these times. The look on his face, the glitter of real malice in his eyes made me very much aware of the fact that he was jonesing to kill us. He had as much intent to kill as that snake had.
After these horror filled incidents, my mother would get in my face and warn me to say not a single word. She was very threatening herself at these times, insisting he had not been serious. But the bruises on her face and the tears said otherwise.
Then this one afternoon, he took it too far. He was supposedly cleaning his guns, preaching about the care and welfare of these weapons. I remember the smell of gun oil hanging on the air, clean and smooth. I liked the smell, but hated that it meant he would be waving around his guns, especially the riflles and shotguns.
After terrorizing my mother, by pointing his rifle at her, and pissing her off in spite of her fear, he turned it on me. He laughed as he pulled the trigger. I tensed, fearing I was about to die. I did not want to die yet! I hadn't done any of the things I had dreamed of doing.
He delighted in my fear, mocking me, that evil gleam in his eyes. Then he told me how stupid I was, saying the gun wasn't even loaded. He pulled the trigger again and blew a hole through the ceiling. It had been loaded. He had not taken the bullet out of the chamber. I glared back at him, silently accusing him of nearly killing me. I did not dare say anything or he would have killed me, I was sure of it.
This was when I had to say goodbye to my best friend, my pet duck, Waddles. My parents said we had to give him up, he could not make the trip with us. Our neighbors said they had a farm and promised to take him there to live with relatives. I never believed them. I hoped they were telling the truth, but I feared for my friend. I never got over the hurt or the sense of loss, knowing that I had been forced to betray my feathered friend.
It was that whispery inner voice that warned me, that told me the adults were full of it; they were frauds.
I did not trust my mother to be honest, she found it amusing to lie, especially if it hurt others. She did nothing when Penny, our German Shepherd was hit by a car. Fortunately, Penny seemed to have only been clipped. She also showed little remorse when Rusty, our Pekingese convulsed to death from overeating of pork chops (Do NOT give your dogs or cats pork. Pork can cause internal bleeding and your dog or cat can convulse to death). It was horrific and I have never gotten the image out of my head. Both were good dogs and they deserved better.
It was after that, that things got really bad, that we moved from the deep South to Los Angeles, California.
Blessed Be,
Jade
Between the ages of five and seven years old my mother attempted to drown me. I say between 5 and 7 because it was before I started school (I started school at 6 because my birthdate falls later in the year and I missed the enrollment date by being too young). There was the holding my head under water, while claiming to wash my hair in the bath tub, as well as holding my face under a shower spray as I choked and strangled. I was having a fit because I could not breathe and was getting water up my nose and in my lungs. She claimed she did not know, was unaware of my difficulty. Difficulty? I am a human being. I do not breathe underwater.
I do not believe that a caring parent can be so obtuse. You do not disregard your child's ability to breathe!
This was the time that I started noticing odd little things, of which I lumped my mother trying to drown me as a part of. I was often locked outside, alone, and left to amuse myself. I was confined to a small area of our yard, so I could be watched. But I wasn't. My mother often forgot me and my step-father could not have cared less.
She had remarried when I was 2 so the only father figure I had known (besides a doting uncle) was this step-father. He never wanted kids, but he wanted her, so I was always treated as that extra piece of luggage you could discard or leave behind.
It was apparent that I was not wanted around. She kept trying to get pregnant, wanting a baby for herself, but also claiming she wanted to give him the child he never had. It would make us a real family. No it didn't. It never did.
My great-grandmother died around this time. I was stunned at her passing, not entirely sure what had happened. I remember my mother, my grandmother, my aunt, being very upset, and my older cousin being pretty mean about it.
No one had bothered to explain what had happened, and it took me a bit to understand. My cousin used his I'm-older-and-better-than-you voice to tell me how awful I was for not crying. I was a bad person. Hadn't I loved her? Of course I had, I still did! My biggest concern was that when I touched her hand--knowing she would not mind--was that she was too cold. She had often gotten chilly and I was afraid she was cold. I was told that that did not matter, she could not feel it anyway. She was going to heaven. Those words did not console me.
After the funeral, weird things started to happen. My mother got all jumpy and strange, and my step-father was not around at the time. I think he was at work at the time.
My mother was afraid to be on her own after that, and wanted me to stay with her. So, one night as we were trying to sleep, she told me she was afraid. Afraid, I asked? Of what? She confided that she was afraid Bobo--which was the nickname my great-grandmother had--would be lying on the couch in the front room. I reminded her that Bobo was dead, and she would never hurt us, even if she was in the other room.
When my mother became frantic, I agreed to go into the other room alone to see if Bobo was there or not. Of course, she wasn't. I only saw the couch and the empty room, but I am not convinced my mother would have seen the same thing.
At that time I was aware that something had gone on, something had happeed. My mother was very scared, the kind of scared she got when she did something wrong and was afraid she would get caught. She was guilty of something, I just did not know what.
I was given a little duck as a present. I remember how fluffy it looked with its feathers all askew, and the delight it showed at being put in a number two wash tub, half full of water, with a whole two bags of minnows. That little duck had a blast! He also ate till he was stuffed.
I named him Waddles, because of the walk. He started following me every where I went. When I was sent to take out the trash, Waddles followed me. He was a ray of sunshine in my bleak existence. Not surprisingly, he was easy to love and a sweet pet.
For a brief time, life was good.
When my step-father started to beat her, it was a horrific, but occasional thing. It was a shameful and shocking thing to me. I was terrified. I was also told to never say a word about it or I would get it worse. As time passed the beatings and over all violence grew more frequent and then it spilled over on to me.
This was when the danger was cranked up several notches. My step-father liked to flash around his overly large hunting knife, almost as much as he liked to wave around his guns. He really enjoyed pointing his gun at my mother and threatening to pull the trigger. He absolutely terrified me at these times. The look on his face, the glitter of real malice in his eyes made me very much aware of the fact that he was jonesing to kill us. He had as much intent to kill as that snake had.
After these horror filled incidents, my mother would get in my face and warn me to say not a single word. She was very threatening herself at these times, insisting he had not been serious. But the bruises on her face and the tears said otherwise.
Then this one afternoon, he took it too far. He was supposedly cleaning his guns, preaching about the care and welfare of these weapons. I remember the smell of gun oil hanging on the air, clean and smooth. I liked the smell, but hated that it meant he would be waving around his guns, especially the riflles and shotguns.
After terrorizing my mother, by pointing his rifle at her, and pissing her off in spite of her fear, he turned it on me. He laughed as he pulled the trigger. I tensed, fearing I was about to die. I did not want to die yet! I hadn't done any of the things I had dreamed of doing.
He delighted in my fear, mocking me, that evil gleam in his eyes. Then he told me how stupid I was, saying the gun wasn't even loaded. He pulled the trigger again and blew a hole through the ceiling. It had been loaded. He had not taken the bullet out of the chamber. I glared back at him, silently accusing him of nearly killing me. I did not dare say anything or he would have killed me, I was sure of it.
This was when I had to say goodbye to my best friend, my pet duck, Waddles. My parents said we had to give him up, he could not make the trip with us. Our neighbors said they had a farm and promised to take him there to live with relatives. I never believed them. I hoped they were telling the truth, but I feared for my friend. I never got over the hurt or the sense of loss, knowing that I had been forced to betray my feathered friend.
It was that whispery inner voice that warned me, that told me the adults were full of it; they were frauds.
I did not trust my mother to be honest, she found it amusing to lie, especially if it hurt others. She did nothing when Penny, our German Shepherd was hit by a car. Fortunately, Penny seemed to have only been clipped. She also showed little remorse when Rusty, our Pekingese convulsed to death from overeating of pork chops (Do NOT give your dogs or cats pork. Pork can cause internal bleeding and your dog or cat can convulse to death). It was horrific and I have never gotten the image out of my head. Both were good dogs and they deserved better.
It was after that, that things got really bad, that we moved from the deep South to Los Angeles, California.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
THE CALLING
People in the know often say that when one is called to the path of the shaman they have little choice but to answer the call. They also warn of the dire consequences of rejecting that call. One of the other signs of being called to the path, is of near death or dying. In the briefly dying and coming back, often thanks to modern technological advances, one experiences something profound and returns a changed person. There is something about overcoming that struggle that opens up your receptiveness to the spirit world, as well as opening your heart and mind. This usually winds up with the chosen one seeing beyond the physical and past the mundane, and into the realm of the spirits. For many, the experiences are so traumatic that they resist and spend their lives struggling for the rest of their days; others resort to drugs or alcohol to dim the pain and fear.
When you are very young, you are not sure what is going on, but it is frightening and strange. Should you attempt to tell a parent or adult you trust, you are apt to be met with disbelief, contempt, ridicule or fear. One of the worst and most scarring is to be called a liar when you are telling the truth.
At the very young age of five or six, I saw the first truly bizarre and unnatural thing in my life. I knew what I was seeing was wrong, wasn't right or natural, it was something very dark and deadly.
My mother, aunt, grandmother and great-grandmother had decided to go to the river to fish. This was a common activity for many in the area and with warm weather and the sun shining brightly it was the perfect opportunity for relaxing.
At times like these, I stayed close to the adults and looked for rocks or played in the dirt. Things a little kid often does for fun.
As I was doing my thing, I felt something off. I think it was the first time I had ever noticed feeling like that and the sensation was very alien to me. I looked up and saw it.
Swimming along parallel to the river bank was the biggest, longest black snake that I had ever seen. It locked eyes on me, and I on it. That was when the chill hit me, when I knew this was wrong. It stared at me with menacing green eyes. They were an unnatural sickly green. In my heart, I knew that I stared in to the face of true evil; that this snake was not normal.
My mother and aunt were laughing and fishing, my grandmother was preoccupied, yet my great-grandmother saw this thing and cried out as she grabbed me by the arm and started dragging me up the riverbank toward higher ground. I was startled and terrified as I tried to keep up. For an ancient lady she was amazingly strong and surprisingly fast.
As I tried to keep up, I watched this snake cut sharply toward the bank and come after me. It moved with an unbelievable speed. Its eyes never left me, I felt its intent. It was going to kill me.
I watched as it passed my mother by no more than three or four feet and she did not notice. It was shortly after that my aunt and grandmother did notice.
My great-grandmother was still shouting to hurry, to run! The others looked at her as though she were insane. When it finally dawned on them that she was hauling me away from the jaws of death, all the lady-type crying and screaming started.
I was hauled to safety. It was all kind of a blur at that point. I remember the frantic conversations going on around me. The snake disappeared. I don't know where it went, or how it went. My heart was racing so fast it was all I could do to gasp in air.
When all was said and done, no one but my great-grandmother even realized that what had happened had been intentional and that the snake was unnatural. The rest of them fell back on their version of reality.
Years later, the incident was pooh poohed as my vivid imagination. But my imagination was never that vivid. I also had a credible witness, whom they later claimed was unreliable. Her view jarred with theirs, therefore it was null and void.
This was the start. This was the beginning of my being called to something that I would not understand until much later.
In Peace,
Jade
When you are very young, you are not sure what is going on, but it is frightening and strange. Should you attempt to tell a parent or adult you trust, you are apt to be met with disbelief, contempt, ridicule or fear. One of the worst and most scarring is to be called a liar when you are telling the truth.
At the very young age of five or six, I saw the first truly bizarre and unnatural thing in my life. I knew what I was seeing was wrong, wasn't right or natural, it was something very dark and deadly.
My mother, aunt, grandmother and great-grandmother had decided to go to the river to fish. This was a common activity for many in the area and with warm weather and the sun shining brightly it was the perfect opportunity for relaxing.
At times like these, I stayed close to the adults and looked for rocks or played in the dirt. Things a little kid often does for fun.
As I was doing my thing, I felt something off. I think it was the first time I had ever noticed feeling like that and the sensation was very alien to me. I looked up and saw it.
Swimming along parallel to the river bank was the biggest, longest black snake that I had ever seen. It locked eyes on me, and I on it. That was when the chill hit me, when I knew this was wrong. It stared at me with menacing green eyes. They were an unnatural sickly green. In my heart, I knew that I stared in to the face of true evil; that this snake was not normal.
My mother and aunt were laughing and fishing, my grandmother was preoccupied, yet my great-grandmother saw this thing and cried out as she grabbed me by the arm and started dragging me up the riverbank toward higher ground. I was startled and terrified as I tried to keep up. For an ancient lady she was amazingly strong and surprisingly fast.
As I tried to keep up, I watched this snake cut sharply toward the bank and come after me. It moved with an unbelievable speed. Its eyes never left me, I felt its intent. It was going to kill me.
I watched as it passed my mother by no more than three or four feet and she did not notice. It was shortly after that my aunt and grandmother did notice.
My great-grandmother was still shouting to hurry, to run! The others looked at her as though she were insane. When it finally dawned on them that she was hauling me away from the jaws of death, all the lady-type crying and screaming started.
I was hauled to safety. It was all kind of a blur at that point. I remember the frantic conversations going on around me. The snake disappeared. I don't know where it went, or how it went. My heart was racing so fast it was all I could do to gasp in air.
When all was said and done, no one but my great-grandmother even realized that what had happened had been intentional and that the snake was unnatural. The rest of them fell back on their version of reality.
Years later, the incident was pooh poohed as my vivid imagination. But my imagination was never that vivid. I also had a credible witness, whom they later claimed was unreliable. Her view jarred with theirs, therefore it was null and void.
This was the start. This was the beginning of my being called to something that I would not understand until much later.
In Peace,
Jade
Saturday, October 5, 2013
AN OPEN LETTER
I have been very angry lately. So much so that I have taken bouts of time away just to keep from erupting. There is nothing wrong with anger, or being angry, but when it consumes you to the point you feel you may explode and beat the shit out of idiots around you, you give yourself a time out. Or at least I do.
The most common cause for my frustration and anger has been idiots. Idiots, morons, assholes, numbnuts, you get the picture. I cannot stand the self righteous posturing and spewing of hatred and hypocrisy that has consumed our media these past months.
At every turn, some Fox news twerp is spouting slanted bullshit stats or facts (however fact is not something a Fox employee has ever met) as they try to sway the nation toward good Christian conservatism. Never mind that conservative politics and true Christianity cancel each other out. They cannot co-exist. They are too opposite. It is matter and anti-matter, for fellow geeks out there.
Between the obviously biased and bought off fake news asshats and the political morons we have out there, constantly spewing hate and trying to keep us all so riled up we can't think without going into a rage, as our nation weakens and falls apart, as these bastards pick up their bribes and payoffs, I feel sicker and angrier until I think my head will pop.
They do this to us in attempt to control us. If we are trying to tear each other apart then maybe, just maybe, we won't see them for the dirty, cowardly thieves that are destroying our country. Not to mention fucking up other nations under our flags of truce and good neighbors. Bullshit!
Awhile back, I received a letter from my Congressman, urging me to keep supporting the good cause, help keep the party strong. This was a GOP asshat and I laughed so hard I hurt, then the anger rose up. This bastard sent out a letter marked urgent, then demanded I answer a questionaire under penalty of some sort or the other. Then the SOB called my unlisted number to mooch money. I told them NO and hung up on them. They called again. I have never given the GOP a cent, nor will I ever. Have they not stolen enough from me already? Have they not ignored my voice? Have these wrinkled old farts not done enough damage already? To ALL of us?
As a political party, they are in their death throes, thank all the Gods! When you are so delusional that you become the party of rape should be downgraded to a misdemeanor, that if a child fights back against an attacker she is suddenly the aggressor, then what the hell can you offer me? I am a woman, a polytheistic Pagan, not one of your pseudo-Christian republican twats. I have a brain, I can think for myself. I do not need a man to tell me what to do or to think. I have been in a solid, good relationship with the same person for nearly twenty years. We work together as a team, we support and protect and love each other. What can these bozos offer either of us? They want to strip away all the support nets for the most fragile in our nation, while raking in huge paychecks, contributions, fees and yes, bribes.
I don't need some old guy who is soooo ancient he looks more like the tootsie roll tootsie pop turtle than a man, telling me that if I get raped and wind up pregnant it is my own fault and I cannot abort the fetus. Not while he and his cohorts are forcing us to pay for their Cadillac health care (damn entitlement whores they are!) and are getting free Viagra to keep up their limp dicks for the boys they claim to not be interested in.
These bastards are pushing NRA and guns on us, while trying to lessen the gun control laws that are in place. They seem to think this will endear them to people, but people who have lost loved ones over shootings by crazy folks with no business owning guns are not okay with this. It is pretty obvious that lobbyists and exchanges of money--very large sums of money-- are behind this idiocy.
Every time of these legalized criminals speaks of family values, traditional values, God or love of God, I try hard not to throw up. These people know nothing of God. They profess to being Christian but hold none of Christ's teaching to heart. They are the wolves in sheep's clothing come to devour us all. They are crazed with greed, gluttony, lust, sloth, wrath, pride and envy. Many have violated the Ten Commandments just as easily as they have violated our Constitution. They claim to love this nation, yet ship our jobs to China. They say they care for the poor and hungry as they take food from the mouths of the truly hungry. All the while they are getting free meals, free health care, free paid vacations, paid sick days, etc., These are our welfare whores, our entitlement junkies. How dare they turn their nose up at the 47%? Who the fuck do they think they are? Posturing and preening with their spray on cheetos tans and their fancy suits and smug ass smirks? Without us, they would have exactly what they deserve: NOTHING!
So they are a part of what makes me so angry that I am fighting against vomiting my guts up as I struggle to not beat the shit out of them or their stupid flunkies. Every day I hear some dick weasel bitching about "Obummer" I want to bury my steeltoed work boot up his ass. We were all told honor the Bush-whacker, respect the Bush-whacker and his questionably sane Cheney. It did not matter that they committed atrocities or war crimes or violated the laws of this land. They were playing God in the White House and destroying our nation. A truer evil has never lived in the White House than those two godless soulless morons. But now, at every turn the very people demanding respect for Bush's position shit on our duly elected president, attacking and insulting and slandering. They claim to be Christians but they are not. They too are soulless, godless morons bleating out what their masters tell them to bleat.
Another thing that stirs up the anger are the idiots that keep pushing for prayer in schools and the pledge of allegiance. I have no problem if someone wishes to pray, but do not force everyone to join you in your prayer. It is wrong! It is un-Constitutional. It is also immoral and unethical. As for the pledge, I laugh. That damn thing was a campaign to sell flags! It is not real, it is not part of any government or patriotic anything. It is as meaningful as pledging to your Swiffer.
While on the topic of prayer and religion, did you know that we pagans are lumped in with Satanists? That we do not get tax breaks Christians do? That as long as we are not recognized by a tax exempt status we are considered not real? That we do not technically exist? That Christians (or politicians pretending to be) are stealing our rights as we speak? While I personally do not need tax exempt status, as my spirituality cannot be bought or sold, I still rankle at the slight. Especially as former Pres. Reagan violated the Constitution while in office by declaring (was it 1984 or 1985) as year of the Bible? That he claimed the Bible was the word of God and that was that. What an idiot. The Bible has seen more rewrites than a Hollywood script! Also Jesse Helms was the asshole lumping us in with Satanists. We don't even believe in Satan! He is purely a Christian construct and concept.
Lies We Are Told: Lie # 1:Your Heritage
I can clearly remember being told to lie about my race, my ethnicity if you will, at a very young age. As a small child in the 60's my mother used to remind me to never mention that I was part German. It was hammered in to my head that if I said a word about my German heritage I could be tortured or killed. I was told to always cling to my Irish roots and flat out deny my German ancestry. As a child I felt that I was being asked to do something terribly wrong. The church that I was occasionally dragged to said lying was wrong, it was a sin. But I was told to lie, to lie lie lie in spite of it.
At the time we were in Fort Smith, Arkansas, and I was told that anti-German sentiment was rampant (of course my mother was far more crude with her wording) but it scared me. Because of something I did not understand as a toddler or slightly older than a toddler, I could be hurt badly. Or killed.
For good measure I was always told to omit that we had black ties as well. African American was not a common term back then. Negro and then black were the more common terms. Again, I did not see the harm. Why was I being asked to lie? To hide a part of who I was? I saw no difference in black or white; I saw no one facet of my lineage as better or worse than any other. It was confusing and hurtful. I was being told that I should feel shame for something that was not shameful, and guilt for something that had no guilt.
That feeling of having to hide followed me through the years, it is still with me today in part due to the behavior I was forced to adhere to and then the after effects of the truth coming out.
One day, as I was out swimming with friends in a secluded pond, we met an older couple who remarked on my obvious German blood. I automatically threw out that I was Irish. They laughed and said Yes, but the German shows more. The eyes, the hair, the skin---you are so obviously German! At the ripe old age of 17 I nearly panicked. The older couple told me to not worry. They said they understood my mother's fear, as in the 60's there was still pockets of anti-German haters who were a threat. Especially in less cultured areas of the country.
It was a breath of fresh air. I could admit my German roots and not be struck down dead. Over time, I discovered that so many people out there easily noted the difference between German and Nazi. As I had nothing to do with the party of hate or oppression, I was okay.
For the record, I am not ashamed of any aspect of my heritage or being. I figure my ancestors found someone to love and have a family with and their race or color was truly irrelevant. As for anyone curious on the matter, here goes! I am Irish, German, English, (possiblt\y Scottish), Native American (Cherokee, Choctaw, Blackfoot, Mohawk) African American, Black Dutch and Dutch. I'm very mixed. I am an American woman. I am unique. I am me. There is not a damn thing wrong with that.
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