Guestblog: Jezebel

A little frivolity over your morning coffee:

Jezebel: "Celebrity, sex, fashion. Without the Airbrushing."

Make sure to check out the comments on each entry - they're the best part.

Everything I Needed to Know...

I Learned from the Rat Pack:

• From funerals come flowers.
• Always act like you know what you're doing.
• Work hard, but make it look easy.
• You get the kind of friends you deserve.
• Anytime is the right time for a party.
• Drink like a man.
• There's always a higher peak.
• Broads come and go but pallies are forever.
• To be a good leader sometimes you have to be a bad man.
• When in doubt, swing.
• Learn to take a punch.
• Never sweat the small stuff.
• Only take a shot at a pal when he's in sight.
• Money does no good sitting in your pocket.
• A lady ain't a tramp.
• There'll be plenty of time to sleep when you're dead.
• Never apologize for your pals.
• Never rat on a rat.
• Make the most of your weaknesses.
• Nobody owes you a good time.
• Once you stop moving, you start dying.
• If you can't do it with class, it isn't worth doing.
• Better a proud thief than a humble beggar.
• Work to live, not the other way around.
• Rules are for suckers.
• Loosen up.
• Regrets are a dangerous rearview mirror.
• Love the man in the mirror, because he's the best pal you got.
• The world breaks everyone, and those who break sometimes end up stronger in the broken places.
• You will know a true pal at first sight.
• Better two pals than a two hundred acquaintances.
• Take care of the little guy.
• A man without enemies is a man without character.
• Women are, and shall forever remain, a mystery.
• Live in the now.

Gotta Be A Chocolate Jesus To Satisfy My Soul

As everyone in the blogsphere by now doubtlessly knows, it's apparently more than any xian's faith can possibly stand to be confronted with a chocolate image of Jesus. It's true. William Donohue, professional victim extraordinaire, says so.

Apparently, and, damn am I pissed that I didn't get the memo, Lent is when we evil non-xians apparently really go to town trying to tempt xians not to believe in their faith. And, of course, modern xians like Donohue are so weak and starved and confused from all that fasting and staying up all night on their knees praying that they do at this time of the year, that it makes sense for us to realy focus our efforts on Lent. And, now, some evil genius has come up with the perfect way to convince xians that their entire faith is a lie.

Chocolate Jesus.

Yep. I don't care if you were baptized at St. Peter's, learned to read from Sister Taursisus at Our Lady of the Holy Blood Parochial School, can recite the Baltimore Catachesim in Latin, made your first Confession to Father Timothy without getting sexually abused, elevated a little bit off the floor when you received your first Holy Communion, took the name Germaine for your Confirmation name, were married a virgin at St. Catherine Laboure chapel, and have spent your entire life in prayer and good works. Apparently, notwithstanding all of those signs of grace, if your eyes ever fall, for even a few minutes, during the season of Lent upon a representation of Jesus as a black man with a penis, you will fling off the faith of your fathers, tear off your scapula, stomp on the crucifix, eat a hamburger on Friday, and convert to Satanism on the spot.

And don't think that Satan doesn't know it.

Meanwhile, for the rest of us, those who don't believe in a faith so flimsy that it can be demolished by the very sight, not to mention taste, of a chocolate deity, there's a chocolate Venus of Willendorf, a chocolate Ixchel (appropriate, n'est pas?), a chocolate Ganesh (if there's a god who loves chocolate, it must be Ganesh), a chocolate Loki, and a chocolate Green Tara to make the world a little bit sweeter.

Family Holidays

The Onion is pretty good today. Here's a taste:

Despite evidence that the planets are aligned in his favor, local pagan Jeff Birch, 27, said Monday that he would "rather have a peaceful weekend at home" than attend his family's Vernal Equinox celebration on March 21.

"I realize it's supposed to be a festive time of conception and new growth in the womb of Mother Earth and all," Birch said. "But I just know that within an hour of arriving, things will get so bad that I'll be reverting to my 12-year-old self, hiding in the rec room downstairs, wearing my Iroquois false face mask and fingering my runes for comfort. It's not worth it."

. . .

"Talking to Mom the other day, it was the same old manipulative 'You're coming home, right?'" said Birch, referring to a recent phone conversation with his mother, Freyja Birch. "If I hesitate for even a second, she piles on the guilt—like how this may be the last year Nana Hippolyta can perform the garden fertility ritual, or that without my masculine energy, the yin-and-yang balance will be thrown off—until I finally give in."

. . .

Besides the usual maiden-mother-crone conflicts, the strained relationship between Birch's sister, Pythia, who recently converted to Wicca, and his father, a devout Dionysian, is another source of tension, according to Birch. "Last year, Pythia brought her covenmate home, and Dad's still having a hard time with it," Birch said. "It's obvious that he doesn't approve of her lifestyle. He's always asking her why doesn't she find a nice warlock to settle down with, or telling her maybe what she really needs is a good old-fashioned bacchanalia. Are other pagan families like this?"

Pythia isn't the first family member to stray from the fold. Fifteen years ago, Birch's uncle Jack married a Presbyterian and has raised two children in the faith. While he is still included in family celebrations, his eccentric monotheism is the source of much awkwardness, Birch said. Two years ago, the black-sheep uncle almost didn't get invited back.

"Having a celestial deity worshipper in our home angered the Goddess Eostre and she punished us with an April freeze," Birch said. "My mom was barely able to salvage her herb garden."

It's funny because my circle is experimenting this year with doing a few rituals that include our families. The first was Yule and the next, probably the last for this year, will be Eostara. K, one of our "new" members, is planning a ritual that she calls a "Gigglalia." I kind of love the idea of G/Son growing up complaining about "having" to go to his crazy Nonna's Spring Equinox ritual.

Why Does The Chicken Cross The Road?

My dear, dear friend Nancy sent this to me and it's just too good not to post:


Alexandrian/Gardnerian: To reveal this would be to break my oath of secrecy. I can say, though, that it *really* is an ancient rite, dating far back in time, back even before 1951, and I have learned it from an unbroken lineage. As Gerald said, it takes a chicken to make an egg.

Asatru: First, we don't believe in a "One Chicken" or a "Hen and Rooster." We believe in many chickens. Second, "crossing the road" is part of the three levels, or worlds, and the chicken simply crossed from one level to another. Hail to the Chickens!

British Traditional: The word "chicken" comes from a very specific Old English word ("gechekken"), and it only properly applies to certain fowl of East Anglia or those descended therefrom. As for the rest, I suppose they are doing something remotely similar to crossing the road, but you must remember that traditional roads are not to be confused with the modern roads....

Ceremonial: "Crossing the road" is a phrase that summarizes many magical structures erected and timed by the chicken to produce the energy necessary for the intention of the travel across the road. For example, the astrological correspondences had to be correct, the moon had to be waxing (if the chicken intended to come to the other side of the road) or waning (if the chicken intended to flee to the other side of the road), and the chicken had to prepare herself through fasting and proper incantations. Note: certain forms of invocation (summoning an egg *inside* your chicken self) can produce abnormal or even dangerous eggs and should only be conducted inside a properly erected barnyard....

Chaos: Thinking in terms of "roads" and "crossings" is simply looking at the formal, typically perceived structure of chicken crossing space- time. We, instead, focus on the possibility of chicken crossing itself; what appears to be a random act is thus actually the norm ---- it is the **road** which is the freak of chance. Indeed, quantum mechanics now demonstrates what we knew all along: two roads can simultaneously exist in the same place at the same time. Thus, by attuning ourselves to the dynamic energy (called "crossing"), we can manifest the road. Of course, to the knowledgeable, this appears as a chicken crossing the road.

Dianic: The chykyn ("chicken" is term of patriarchal oppression) sought to reclaim for herself the right to be on the other side of the road, after it had been denied to her for centuries. By doing so, she reawakened the power of the Hen within herself.

Discordian: cock-a-doodle-doo!

Druid: To get to the sacred grove, of course! Keep in mind that 99% of everything written about chickens-crossing-the-road is pure hogwash, based on biased sources. Yes, there were a few unfortunate chicken sacrifices in the past, but that is over now...

Eclectic: Because it seemed right to her at the time. She used some Egyptian style corn and a Celtic sounding word for the road and incorporated some Native American elements into her Corn-name, Chicken-Who-Dances-and-Runs-with-the-Wolves.

Faery: In twilight times and under sparkling stars, those properly trained can still see the chickens crossing the roads. Reconnecting with these "fey-fowl" as they cross is crucial to restoring the balance between the energies of modern development and living with the earth.

Family Traditional: Growing up, we didn't think much about "crossing the road." A chicken was a chicken. It crossed the road because that was what worked to get her to the other side. We focused on what worked, and we worked more with the elders of the barnyard and less with all this "guardians of the chickencoop" business. We didn't get our concepts of "chickens" or "the other side" from Gardner, either. You can choose not to believe us but that doesn't change the facts: there *were* real chickens, and they *really did* cross the road!

Kitchen Witch: The chicken crossed the road to get food, to get a rooster or to get away from me after I decided to have chicken for supper!

Left Hand Path: White, fluffy chickens prancing across the road! Do you think that is *all* there is to crossing the road? Do you *dare* to know the dark side of crossing the road and the *other* path to self-development?

Shaman: Crossing the road is a way to reconnect with the healing, visionary lifeways of the past. Chickens have long known this, but increasingly the Rooster's Movement is adding more roosters to the crossings too.

Wiccan: The chicken crossed the road because she felt like she was finally "coming home." She could do it alone or with others, but she had to call to the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the Barnyard first ... uhm, after casting the circle.

Margot Adler: The recent chicken resurgence, it can be argued, is directly based on a response to the suburban middle class experience. While I found that chickens-who-cross-roads who responded to my survey are of a wide range of ages and backgrounds, I discovered some trends in the "why" of crossing the road. For some it is was freedom. For some it is chickenism. Many chickens told me they crossed the road for intellectual satisfaction. One thing is clear: the growth of road crossing by chickens is expanding in the numbers of chickens and in the ways they cross the road, including at chicken festivals and for political blocking of roads.

P.E.I. Bonewits: Real crossing-the-road, we have seen, is a very interwoven and complicated subject. Our conclusion could be that real crossing-the-road is the build up of chicken emotion in conjunction with chicken concepts to vary the modulation of chicken energy so as to effect the modulation of the road's energy. That's all! Perhaps it is unfortunate, though, to use the word "chicken" in relation to it, since the "C" word is being used now in a way it was never used before in the English language and is an utterly meaningless term without a qualifying adjective. And this, of course, is the fault of the medieval Christian Church, through the Gothic Chickens it invented and used as the basis of persecuting men, women and chickens. The word "chicken" itself comes from an Indo-European root, "cheeka/e" meaning "one who lays eggs," and it has no relation to the later Anglo-Saxon word for "wise spirit of flight," as so often stated by certain contemporary "Chics." An'Chk'Rrhod ("Our Own Chickens on Our Own Roads"), an authentic Neo-Chicken Rooster tradition, offers the best of paleo-, meso- and neo- Chickenism ...

Scott Cunningham: A chicken passes between the grasses, clucking. The wind blows, and the chicken knows, *knows*, that this is the time. She puts her energy into taking the steps, in harmony with the gravel and the stones of the road. She is across; it is over, and the chicken stands in the field on the other side of the road. ... Natural chicken crossing is unique among most other branches of the art of chicken road crossing. It doesn't require years of collecting or fashioning coops, feeders or hen houses. Indeed, the most important tools of natural chicken crossing are free: the road, the chicken and you, your personal chicken power. You're already familiar with it. You've felt it. You *are* a chicken. Crossing the road is you, with your chicken need. And, you can do it on your own. After all, who initiated the first chicken?

Janet and Stewart Farrar: Since so many editions of Gardner's Chicken Book of Crossings have appeared in print (some accurate, some not), we think it won't "lay an egg" too much if we clearly present "The Chicken Crossing Rite," especially if we do so after two and half pages of well researched introduction set in six-point type. In version A of the Chicken Crossing Rite, we find many pseudo-archaisms (e.g.,"Yea, Ye Anciente Rite of Ye Chiks and Ye Rodes is a moste powerful Crafting, taking thy athame..."); however, Doreen Valiente notes (in version C, which is what we present), and we agree, that underlying it all is a basic ritual for summoning the astral road through the spirit of the Chicken (drawn down in the person of the High Priestess, holding the black handled feed bin; of course, a second degree may assist or perform the rite when....

Llewellyn's Practical Chicken Magick Series: To some people, the idea that "chickens crossing the road" is practical comes as a surprise. It shouldn't. The whole idea of Crossing the Road is practical for chickens. While Crossing the Road is also, and properly so, concerned with spiritual growth and psychological transformation --the "why" of crossing the road-- every chicken's life must rest firmly on material roads. Crossing the Road is the flowering of chicken potential. And the profits from publishing all those books on how to do so? Well, that ain't chicken feed...

Doreen Valiente: Old Chicken really did exist, and she really did cross the road. Gerald talked about her often, but she didn't cross the road till before I began studying with Gerald. Still there are records of Old Chicken which confirm her reality. As for all the comments that Gerald had a "thing" for chickens, that is simply not true. The reason we worked with chickens is really quite simple: it worked!