Yes.

This.

Ritual is not only about entertainment. It is not only a pleasant pastime or an opportunity to socialize. It is not even simply a psychological tool to shape ourselves and our communities through shared emotional or aesthetic experiences, though it can certainly be used this way.

At the heart of my spiritual life rests the deep knowing that ritual is a way of listening to the Song of the World as it moves through the earth and the land, and engaging with that Song as something holy, wholly challenging and transformative. Shared ritual is when we accept the burden and blessing of being embodied beings of this dense, physical world that gives us life, and when allow ourselves to respond in kind, to speak back to the natural world with its energies and currents and wild mysteries. Ritual is not for our sake alone, but for the sake of the whole world. It is for the sake of the solitude and silence that surrounds us, that frightening shadow of void and absence that makes us who we are, makes us whole.

We ignore it or seek to replace it at our own peril, for the world is what is real. Even in our deepest solitude, the world of experience and natural forces persists.

* * *

We have been neglectful and arrogant for a long time in this country, intoxicated with our own power, lulled into disconnection by our own thirst for convenience and speed and ease. Those years of solitude I spent grieving and kneeling to the dust on the floor were not made up of my grief alone. The land, too, grieves. She misses us. She longs for us to once again touch her as a lover caresses the beloved, to whisper to her of our secret dreams and sit with her in the long silences of twilight. She aches to be with us in our ritual and our prayer. She loves to feel the pounding of our feet and our drums in dance and song and praise — not the scraping and gnawing of our machines and our indifference and our consumerism and our denial.

Our religious communities are not only human. The world, too, the earth and her creatures and her ecosystems and forests and rivers and storms — all these are part of our community of spirit, the community from which our lives crest and subside again like waves of the ocean. And we cannot embrace the world in its wholeness and holiness if we seek to escape it or deny it through digital media that robs it of its voice and deadens our ability to listen to its thrumming presence in even the deepest silences and loneliest moments. Digital and social media have their place, they can give us some direction and help us to share ideas and information across the globe. But they cannot ever replace the hard, necessary work of showing up to ourselves in all of our limited, bounded, frustratingly beautiful imperfections and engaging in the wildness and wilderness of a world so much bigger than we are.

Please, please, please: Go read the whole thing. And then go outside.

Picture found here.

Not on the Agenda for Today.

Also unlikely.

Now with a Whimper, But a Bang.

Creating Beauty

Did you create some beauty today? For my part, I put together an elegant legal argument and spent some time teaching young lawyers how to think and write about the law (which is as beautiful to me as the sand is to the artist above -- and almost as malleable a medium and certainly as susceptible to changing tides). And now I'm going to spend time knitting a sweater to keep G/Son warm next year. Tell me about the beauty you created.

************************

Update: I see that SoBeIt and I are reading from the same book today.

How It's Done

A bit too long, could have cut out the Mrs. Ex-Ayn Rand lover bit, but, yes, MORE FRAMING LIKE THIS!

But, Alas.

Had a wonderful, impromptu lunch today w/ a dear friend who found herself downtown about noon and in need of sustenance. We caught up on each others' crazy lives, and discussed her amazing belly dance classes, mutual friends, and gardens. Then we spent time giggling over our well-laid plans to hit up nice neighborhoods following the predicted rapture this Saturday evening. Since we're pretty sure not to be going anywhere both Witches and thus guaranteed not to be getting raptured into the Christian heaven, we worked out a plan for dividing up the Jimmy Choos, Hermes, jewelry, good booze, etc. left behind by god-fearing Christians (Yes, I know what Jesus said about rich people, camels, and needles, but that's now been preempted. Prosperity Christianity assures the people in Georgetown and McClean (our first picks for looting providing good homes to the property of our neighbors) that they WILL get raptured if they just believe in Jesus, hate the poor, and vote for tax cuts. So I'm not too worried that anyone raptured will leave behind only stuff I wouldn't want).

I've posted serious poems about the end of the world before. And of course, we all know what RF said about fire and ice. Yet, what I can't quit hearing in my head every time someone explains that the end of the world begins this Saturday evening (just as I'm hoping to have Son, DiL, and G/Son over for Sancerre, roast chicken, corn, biscuits, and broccoli (G/Son's favorite veg, what can I say?)) is Dorothy Parker's poem, which I know by heart, about predictions that the world will end.

The Flaw In Paganism

Drink and dance and laugh and lie,
Love, the reeling midnight through,
For tomorrow we shall die!
(But, alas, we never do.)

Although, Parker's (oddly, she almost never is) wrong, that's not the flaw in Paganism (which she had the decency to capitalize; well, she left her estate to Dr. King, so of course she was wonderful and ahead of her time); it's the flaw in Christianity, esp. the hate-filled Christianity of this nutjob predicting the end of the world.

Dude, Jesus ran around w/ 12 men. He preached love and understanding. I really don't think that the word "lesbianism" is in the Bible. But if you do get raptured this Saturday, I'll be glad to see you gone. I don't even want your stuff.

***

Update: What my friend Tim Said.

Potpourri

"My" homeless vet is having heart troubles. I spent a lot of time today trying to find a VA service that will go out to the TR bridge on-ramp and do outreach to him -- and came up empty. Tomorrow, I'm going to take him aspirin, which I know can help to stave off a heart attack. Are there any other supplements that are good? (Damn. I hate feeling powerless. Hello, Shadow.)

Dill, oh dill! Why will you never grow where I want you to grow, but always grow where I've planted rosemary or thyme? Why? (Hello, again, Shadow!)

Butterbur, if you keep encroaching on the day lilies, you will find out that I can be as Kali, Bringer of Death. I am just saying.

Oregano, please see my comment above re: dill.

Spent today reading, thinking, editing, talking to smart people, and writing. Once, in my wicked youth or childhood. . . . Sometimes, your job IS your daily practice. And that, pace R. Frost, has made all the difference.

Anne Hill has up a great post about talking to children about dreams. A few months ago, G/Son was awakened by a bad dream. He headed across the hall into his 'rents' room. Sleep-addled and hoping for a few more of Lethe's blessings, they pulled up the covers, snuggled him in between them, rubbed his back, and attempted to get some more sleep. He shook my beautiful DiL awake: "Mommy! You did not ask me about what was IN my dream!" Children want to talk to us about their dreams; it's up to us to teach them that what they dream matters. Thank the Goddess, my G/Son has a wonderful mother who woke herself up and asked the important questions. A while later, G/Son spent the night with me and, when he woke up, in that magical, information-rich moment between sleeping and waking, he said, "Nonna! Can you hear my friends? I think I hear my friends from my old school." I told Son and DiL about G/Son's dream, and they've been making opportunities ever since for G/Son to spend more time with some of his old friends. And he loves it!

African Alchemy has an interview w/ Adrienne Rich, who GOT ME THROUGH LAW SCHOOL w/ A SNIPPET OF POETRY Rich says: "Nothing 'obliges' us to behave as honorable human beings except each others’ possible examples of honesty and generosity and courage and lucidity, suggesting a greater social compact."

Thorn Coyle. Leonard Cohen. A good cause. For precisely what are you waiting?

Dear Glitter Person I do not know you, but I think I love you. Why thrice-married Newt Gingrich ("I was against Ryan's plan to deny health care to old people before I was for it") gets to complain that allowing gay people to marry will "destroy traditional marriage" is way beyond me. Also, as someone who is financially responsible, I have to say that if your estimated worth is only about a million dollars, you've got no business owing between 1/4 and 1/2 of that to Tiffany's. And I love Tiffany's, purveyor of all things Elsa Peretti. (As I've posted before, one of my rules for dealing w/ a bonus is to get yourself some little thing you want before investing most of the bonus. I've spent more than a few of my bonuses on Elsa. Unlike Newt, I could afford them w/o going into debt.)

If you don't check in every day with In the Mists of Avalon, you should.

What the Arch Druid Said. This week as every week. If you only have time to read one blog, this is it.

Everything here smells good. As do the gardenias in my garden and the earth after all this rain. Not to mention the (see above) dill, oregano, chocolate mint, sage, and deep black iris.

If you care about social media, you should read my brilliant friend, E. No, really. Every day.

This morning, I passed a new (at least newly-advertised) farmers' market at the OPM (that's Office of Personnel Management for those of you outside the Beltway). Thanks, Michelle Obama! Mr. Bittman has a great article about how Detroit, yes Detroit, is embracing locally-grown food.

If you're interested in checking out some Pagan events, you should be checking regularly with Medusa.

After days and days of heavy rain, I got to go sit outside in my bit of Earth and reconnect. It felt wonderful. What's going on in your bit of Earth?

What's rocking your world these days?

Picture found here.
.

What He Said

My friend the great Dakota activist Waziyatawin once said, “That defeatist attitude makes me want to scream. The battles we’re fighting are overwhelming, but we know things won’t get better if we do nothing. Our only hope is enough people intervening and taking action, people willing to risk something now so we all don’t lose everything later. The only sense of empowerment I feel is by taking some kind of action, whether it’s writing, working to undermine the existing structures, or sitting on the open prairie in December with a Dakota man trying to save our landbase.” She went on: “If our actions will do nothing, why would anyone even want to live anymore? That kind of hopelessness, in the defeatist sense, means an embracing of victimage and complete powerlessness. Here the salmon have much to teach: either they make it upriver to spawn, or they die trying.”

If our actions make it so there is even a one-thousandth of 1 percent chance that things will work out better for ourselves and the planet, then it is our moral duty to act and act and act. Before it’s too late.

Am I optimistic? Not in the slightest. Am I going to quit? Not on your fucking life.

You should read Derrick Jensen's entire post here.

Picture found here.

Raise My Social Security Taxes

I have a great job and I love it. And I may as well say this on the night of a Full Moon as any other night.

I worked my ass off, teaching all day and preparing for and going to law school all night -- for six really (really!) long years -- to get it, making an insane commute and coming in near the top of my class, interviewing my (again) ass off [you'd think I'd have a smaller one!], landing a great summer job, making assistant editor of law review, and then landing, at an advanced age, in a first year position where, yet again, I worked my ass off for years in order to prove myself. Those were, IMHO, fair trades, and I would gladly, in Teasdale's words, buy it [all over again] and never count the cost. I love the intellectual stimulation of my job, the atmosphere of the firm where I work, the clients for whom I work, the projects that I help to make happen, and the other lawyers with whom I work. I love the calibre of my opponents; maybe some things feel better than besting people who are really, really good at what they do, but I'd be hard pressed to name them on a day when I've fought off the collective strengths of a bunch of (natch) men who are used to winning because they are so good. I love the demands of the courts in front of which I practice and I love getting paid to research, think, and write. It's what I was born to do and I do it, if I say so myself, pretty damn well. You have to be a huge geek to enjoy doing what I do, and yet, there are nights that I drive home completely mainlining the law and can't go to sleep because I am so excited by what I do. It's not something I post much about on this blog, but it's a big part of who I am.

Which is all a long wind-up to my main point, but also crucial to a preliminary point that I want to make. I make, thank the Goddess, a darn good living and I know that. And I appreciate it and I am grateful for it and there were many years when I did more important work and got paid a whole lot less. And I recognize my responsibility to give back, not only through pro bono hours (which I do, every year, and just finished doing for this year), but also through a program of planned giving to political and charitable causes that I select every year. And I don't apologize to anyone for what I make because, see, e.g., paragraph no. 2 above, I worked, and still work, my ass off for it.

Yet, I've learned that the fastest way in the world to start a war in the Pagan community, to make readers angry, and to trigger all kinds of shadow issues is to post about finances. We may say that we don't believe in sacrifice ["Nor do I demand aught of sacrifice, for behold, I am the Mother of all things and My love is poured out upon the earth."], and that matter is not fallen, but talk about prosperity, financial good sense, or living well, and Pagans often respond not to what you've actually said but to what they hear, coming through the shadows of their own issues about money. Which explains, I hope, my long-winded wind-up to what I'm going to say:

I'm through paying Social Security taxes for the year.

As you may know, there's a "cap" on the amount of income subject to the Social Security tax. After you earn $106,800.00, you stop paying Social Security taxes. I passed that point some time ago.

And, yet, what always strikes me is that I've managed to live pretty damn well during the months that I do pay Social Security taxes. I don't have any debts other than my mortgage. My 401k is fully funded. I've put money into savings. I've paid off my 30-year mortgage at a 15-year rate. I have a house-cleaning service that does most of my housework, a lawn service that seeds and mows my lawn, a Landscape Guy who helps me with my garden, and I shop at Whole Foods and Balducci's as often as not. I get a weekly massage and I head to Georgetown once a month to get highlights from the guy who used to do them for a lovely French actress. And then I go out for oysters & martinis. I can afford to take G/Son to the toy store or the Ren Faire and I can rent all the movies on Netflix that he wants to see. I've spent a lot of money on my garden which, although it is probably an investment in the value of my property, is mostly for my own enjoyment. I've given money to causes that I like and I've helped to make sure G/Son gets the kind of education, organic produce, and sports programs that I wish all children could get. When things come up, be they the need for a new hot water heater or the desire to send money to friends protesting in Wisconsin, I'm able to cover them without really missing a beat. (To be fair, there are things I don't spend money on. I own an 8-year-old, modest, hybrid car and I haven't been on a vacation in a years. I live in a tiny cottage. I have neither a flat-screen tv nor cable and I can go all week without turning on any lights unless I have company. I don't spend a lot on clothes and I don't go out much except for the occasional ballet.) Bottom line, I could pay more taxes and not be miserable, as could all the people who make even more than I do.

And you know, I could go on living pretty well even if I had to pay Social Security tax until August, or October, or even December. Which is my point (and, see, I did have one). I wouldn't work any less intensely or "innovate" any less (seriously, at this level, more money is v. nice, but beating the opposition will keep me from "going Galt," for many, many hours), or be any less interested in making more money (seriously, Moon in Taurus, what more can I say?) if I did have to keep paying Social Security tax.

I don't fancy myself an investment genius. I pay once a year for some professional investment advice and, as soon as I'm through paying the Social Security tax, the delta goes into saving for my retirement, and the difference is that, at least for the time being, that delta benefits my financial advisor and the investment community rather than some old person who needs medicine and rent and would like to buy hir G/Son a new book, or some music lessons, or a pair of soft cotton pajamas. And, the difference is that the money I invest for my retirement can disappear tomorrow in another market meltdown.

And, so I say: "Raise the cap. Keep on taxing me." I make a good living and I worked hard for it and I'd be proud to be able to pay more Social Security taxes now than, say, some school teacher who may not make all year what I've made from January until now. I can afford it and still live a v nice life. I'd rather pay it than see old people live out their last years (I'm going to be there soon), worrying about bills, scrimping all the time, unable to enjoy their retirement. What's happened to America that we want to make old people suffer so that Paris Hilton, or an investment banker, or Hecate Demetersdatter, who already have quite a lot, can get even more? We used to be better than that. We used to believe E pluribus unum; we used to believe that those who've benefitted from the investment of the many into America (and I went to public schools and a state law school, drove on public roads to and from law school, benefitted from the existence of federal agencies and courts, and benefitted in other unnamed ways from the investment of many Americans in America), should give back to America; we used to believe that "United We Stand; Divided, We Fall."

I still do.

Raise the cap on my Social Security taxes.

Picture found here.

Factual v. True.

Witches don't proselytize and I am, if you wake me up at 2:00 am and ask me what I am, a Witch. And I don't proselytize.

I have a Pisces G/Son who has ancient eyes and who is Here, unless I miss my guess (and given those old eyes of his in every photograph ever taken of him, I don't imagine that I do), to Connect to the All, and I am his Nonna, but I will not be the person who "shows him the way." His 'rents are a bit agnostic and his other grandmother is devoutly Baptist. G/Son tells me that, at his other grandmother's house (and I love her, she's a wonderful woman, a great cook, a fantastic matriarch, and a dear friend of mine who has accepted my religion in a way I had no reason to expect), they say Grace at every meal and she teaches him about Jesus.

This weekend, G/Son spent the night with me so that his 'rents could have a bit of adult time. The weather wasn't wonderful, but we did spend some time in my garden and we played with toy knights and toy trains downstairs in Nonna's basement. G/Son played on Nonna's treadmill, running as fast as he could and being a runner like his Dad. We curled up on Nonna's couch and read our new Geronimo Stilton book, including some time spent learning the secret runes in the letter from the Queen of Fairie. We watched some movies: Batman Beyond (a regular favorite), Hook, and Phineas and Ferb. (OK, Phineas & Ferb did require a slight discussion of feminism and how women are portrayed as anti-male, anti-adventure, and anti-fun in modern media. G/Son: "So you are saying they show girls like this on purpose?" Nonna: "Yes, that's what I'm saying. Just always ask yourself: 'Qui Bono?' That's all that I'm saying. Just ask that." G/Son: "OK, I'll ask that. Now I'm going to push 'Play.'")

Ever since he was a little baby, I've sung G/Son to sleep with three songs: Hush Little Baby, and We All Come from the Goddess, and Hoof and Horn, Hoof and Horn, All that Dies Shall Be Reborn; Corn and Grain, Corn and Grain, All that Dies Shall Rise Again. I admit that I never thought of any of them as a way of protelyztizing, or even as particularly religious songs. I sing them because their repetitive nature tends to put little babies to sleep. (And because, to be fair, their unchallenging scope allows me to sing them. You'd have to love me the way that my G/Son loves me to want to listen to my singing. I'm a woman of many talents; singing isn't one of them.)

Last night, just as we climbed, clean-toothed and cotton pajamaed, under our heavy covers and turned out the lights, it began to rain in earnest. Through the open window, we practiced listening to the rain drops all together and then we practiced listening to each individual drop. G/Son was watching the lightening and listening to the thunder, clutching his new Thor Super Hero toy in his hands, and explaining to me how lightening and thunder do not mix well with water. He said, "Nonna, sing the song about the drops of rain." And, so, I did. "We all come from the Goddess, and to Her we shall return, like a drop of rain, flowing to the ocean." I said, "Each drop of rain that we hear outside is flowing into Spout Run, into the beautiful Potomac, into the Chesapeake Bay, and into the Atlantic Ocean. And, someday, that is how I hope to flow."

G/Son said, "Nonna, I know who the Goddess is. Jesus." And he sang a song that I think he must have learned from his other grandma about "Jesus we love you and we know you will heal us." I said, "Yes, a lot of people worship Jesus as a god. And 'god' is the male form of 'goddess.'" G/Son thought about this for a bit and then he said, "Nonna. I know who the Goddess is. She's the Statue of Liberty."

And I said, and if this is wrong may the Goddess forgive me, and if this is right may the Goddess forgive me, because I am only trying to walk a middle way, "Yes, the Statue of Liberty is a statue of a very important Goddess. The Goddess of Liberty. And I pray to that Goddess every day."

And G/Son said, "Sing to me again about 'hush little baby,' and then sing to me again about 'corn and grain.' Is the 'corn and grain' like the seed in your garden that comes back every year?"

And I said, "Yes, what matters most to me in the whole world is the way that the seeds in Mother Earth's body come back every year. Listen, now: 'Hush little baby, don't say a word. Nonna's gonna buy you a mocking bird. If that mocking bird won't sing . . . .'"

I don't want, I don't, to bring this serious intellect to the Goddess. Nor do I want to turn it away. What I want is, and well, this is selfish, is for him to come, as I am trying to come, shedding all kinds of detritus, to what is true.

This weekend, we were talking about King Arthur and the difference between what is factual and what is true. I won't mind if he grows up to discover that what he learned from me is less than factual. As long as he grows up to learn that what I told him was true.

Picture via the blogger. If you copy, please link back.

Sunday Dance Blogging

What Stories Do You Tell Yourself?

Who benefits?

Peonies

Like Theodora Goss, I try to post something every day. Yesterday, Blogger was bloggered and wouldn't let me post, and I'm grateful to Twitter for filling the gap. If Blogger had let me post, here is what I was going to say:

If asked to name the "most mystical" flower, many would name the rose, or perhaps the lotus. Some would, not so much for the flower itself, as for the drug derived from it, name the poppy.

Me, I'd say that the peony is, in and of itself, a mystical experience. All the years that I lived in my tiny apartment, I'd buy armload of peonies (buy it and never count the cost) at the farmers' market on Dupont Circle. The man who sold them once told me that every week, in season, he shipped tightly-budded peonies to a woman in southern Virginia who would put them in water, pour a glass of wine, and sketch them as, over time, they opened. (Put peony buds in warm water and you can pretty much watch them opening. It's magic.) I used to go the Freer Gallery just to look at the pictures of peonies. When I moved, at last, to my little Witch's cottage, I began to grow my own, all white, although that doesn't stop me from sometimes, still, buying an armload at the farmers' market or (scuffs feet in shame) Whole Foods.

This week, the peonies are in mad, ecstatic bloom all over northern Virginia and I am grateful for each bush planted on my side-road route to Lorcom Lane and on my deep-DC route back home. There are peonies on my bed table, peonies on my dining room table, peonies on my desk at work, peonies on the table on my screen porch, peonies on the desks of all 3 secretaries who sit near my office, and peonies on my altar.

Here's a wonderful Mary Oliver poem about peonies.

This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready
to break my heart
as the sun rises,
as the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers

and they open ---
pools of lace,
white and pink ---
and all day the black ants climb over them,

boring their deep and mysterious holes
into the curls,
craving the sweet sap,
taking it away

to their dark, underground cities ---
and all day
under the shifty wind,
as in a dance to the great wedding,

the flowers bend their bright bodies,
and tip their fragrance to the air,
and rise,
their red stems holding

all that dampness and recklessness
gladly and lightly,
and there it is again ---
beauty the brave, the exemplary,

blazing open.
Do you love this world?
Do you cherish your humble and silky life?
Do you adore the green grass, with its terror beneath?

Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden,
and softly,
and exclaiming of their dearness,
fill your arms with the white and pink flowers,

with their honeyed heaviness, their lush trembling,
their eagerness
to be wild and perfect for a moment, before they are
nothing, forever?

Peonies, for me, are the flower of the "great (alchemical) wedding," and the flower that will call me "half-dressed and barefoot" (oh, you cannot imagine) into the garden, and call me to be "wild and perfect for a moment." Just before I am blessedly nothing forever.

You come, too.

Update: Byron Ballard's lovely rose certainly makes a strong case for the rose. Good thing we don't have to choose! ;)

Father of Waters

A part of my daily practice, believe it or not, is my drive to and from work. I have a choice of routes, but I always drive along the fey-populated Spout Run and the beautiful river into which it feeds, the Potomac. Batty old woman that I am, I find myself in deep relationship with the water, the rocks, the honeysuckle that's thriving just now, the runners and early-morning kayakers on the Potomac, the expanding colony of purple thistles just as you exit onto the T.R. Bridge, the homeless vet I chat with there most mornings, the dead trees just at the edge of the island facing the Kennedy Center. It's a good thing that traffic moves at a crawl.

As I was driving beside the Potomac this morning, NPR was reporting on the flooding that's been happening alongside the Mississippi River and its tributaries. "Mississippi" comes from a Native American word that meant, "Father of Waters," and it was aptly named.

I simply can't imagine how much water it would take to do what the news reports describe, nor how it would be to live -- as a human, a tree, a bird with a nest in that tree, a snake, a fox, or a rose bush -- within that flood plain. One thing that rivers do, that rivers need to do, is to flood.

And so my sympathies are with the Mississippi and with the Element that I call every day when I cast a circle, every time that I need something to dissolve, every time that I need things to flow along. And, as well, my sympathies are with the humans, and the trees, and the birds, and the snakes, and the foxes, and the roses.

Because they are all the same thing; they are all, to paraphrase HC, Goddess pouring Goddess into Goddess. And, yet, they are each separate and precious, and the desire of the human not to lose her home, and the desire of the fox kit not to lose her den, and the desire of the tree not to be swept away, are every bit as strong and as valid as the desire of the Mississippi to occasionally overflow His banks in a big way.

And so, tonight, I will sit at my altar, here in the district devoted to the Goddess Columbia, here beside Spout Run, here in the Potomac Watershed, and I will light incense for the Father of Waters and for all who live in His floodplain. I will send energy to strengthen the Web of All. I will listen to the words of Derrick Jensen, and I will be more grateful than I can express for having incarnated upon this watery, dangerous planet.

Join me at your altar, will you?

Pesky Activist Lawyers

Via Twitter, Atrios highlights an interesting case concerning a jail in South Carolina that has (or perhaps the better term now might be "had), according to an email from a jail staff member, a policy that

our inmates are only allowed to receive soft back bibles in the mail directly from the publisher. They are not allowed to have magazines, newspapers, or any other type of books.

That's right. No Koran. No Pagan Ritual Prayer Book, nada. Just Bibles. Nice First Amendment you've got there, America. The ACLU filed suit and, lo and behold, the federal government sought and was granted permission to intervene in support of the ACLU.

Now, all of a sudden, the jail says that it has a different policy:

Officials at the jail responded to the ACLU lawsuit by saying that they only banned material containing staples and nudity. But the new ACLU motion to block this policy points out that legal pads containing staples were being sold at the jail. It claims that the no staples or nudity policy was "adopted post hoc and in response to this Case", and that it "eliminate[s] access to reading material almost as completely as the 'Bible only' rule".

Anyone who's practiced law for very long has seen this happen. The jail has what it knows is an unconstitutional policy. It doesn't want to give it up, so it looks for some other rationale that will let it achieve the same goal. No explanation for why the staff member seemed to think the policy was rather explicitly different (soft-cover Bibles, direct from the publisher, no magazines newspapers [which don't have staples], or any other type of books"). No, the policy is based on safety and prison control! Staples are dangerous and it's bad to let prisoners see pictures of nudity or bathing suits because, um well, shut up, that's why. One hopes the judge in the case sees this for what it is.

I mention this case because it shows what can be accomplished by the mere filing of a legitimate lawsuit. Once the jail's policies are under scrutiny, jail administrators start scrambling, and scrambling people often look disingenuous. To a judge. We saw a similar case when Pagan activists sued the U.S. Department of Veterans' Affairs over its refusal to allow Pentacles on gravestones. Once you file suit, and get discovery, you find out that the real reason behind the denials and delays and changing requirements is that George Bush doesn't like Witches. And then someone realizes that you'd better settle this case before a judge settles it for you.

All of which is by way of saying that, no, the ACLU doesn't always take all of the cases I might wish that they'd take. But they do manage to do some very good things. And it's important to note that you don't have to be guilty to be in jail. Get arrested and you can get thrown in jail, at least until you make bail or the charges are dropped.

That's why I'm a card-carrying member of the ACLU. Are you?

Wildlife: A Love Story

I get that there are huge problems with zoos. And I can imagine that dealing with crowds of people isn't fun for the animals. But I also get that if we don't convince our young people that nature and wildlife really matter, on a visceral, emotional level, we're headed for really bad trouble.

What's your take on this?

Sunday Ballet Blogging

Saturday Poetry Blogging

Laughing Heart

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

~Charles Bukowski

Picture found here.

Bad Week for Pagans in DC

Jason Pitzl-Waters has an important and well-reasoned post at the Wild Hunt concerning The Washington Times' (known throughout DC as The Moonie Times) attempts to smear Pagans. If you haven't seen it, you need to go read it now. As Jason notes, just when you think the paper may be running out of bad things to say about Pagans:

they quickly turn to environmentalism, portraying it as a stalking horse for Paganism.
“Such [environmental] questions can only be raised in a politically correct military that may actually contain more Earth worshippers than imagined. Though cloaked in scientific terms, the tenets of global warming are essentially pagan. [Not going to even mention rules of capitalization.] This belief system, which cannot be questioned, [??] holds that material sacrifice – turn down your thermostat and trade in your light bulbs – will result in a change in the weather. It is the modern equivalent of a rain dance.

I have to say, that's a level of stupidity that simply boggles my mind. You don't have to be Pagan to believe that if you stop adding carbon to the atmosphere, global climate change can be ameliorated. It's as if they said:

Idiot Pagans! They think that putting seeds into the ground will make food grow! They think starting a fire will keep you warm! They think that drinking wine will alter your consciousness! Only crazy people imagine that making material changes in the material world will cause material changes in the material world [And I am a material girl. Sorry, can't help myself.] Duh, Pagans probably think putting pins in a poppet will cause someone to feel pain, too! Pagans are dumb.

And, as Jason's commenters point out, the Moonies have honestly not got much room for calling other religions weird.

Meanwhile, the Washington Post (aka The Kaplan Test Prep Rag) is busy trying to screw its Pagan employees:

The [Washington Baltimore Newspaper Guild Local 320350] also criticized a management request to ease restrictions on layoffs and reduce severance pay while eliminating a provision that allows employees to trade a traditional holiday for another recognized holiday if they choose:

Not Christian? Too bad. The Post would eliminate an employees' right to substitute a traditional paid holiday, such as Christmas, for another recognized holiday of their choice. This from a company whose editorial page often lauds the importance of diversity.

A Post spokesperson declined to comment on the raise, the proposed severance, and layoff changes or the holiday provision.

/hat tip: Atrios

I'd imagine the Post would be glad to get some folks who'd volunteer to work the Xmas shift (because they run ads publish 365 days a calendar year) in return for getting Samhein or Beltane off, but apparently not. Lally, one imagines, may take off whenever she likes.

Some days, the stupid, it burns.

Picture found here.

All Acts of Love and Pleasure

In comments to my earlier posting of this YouTube below, Markarios makes some good points and I thought that I'd post my responses.

First, with Markarios, I agree with the speaker's first point: enshrining religious beliefs in a state constitution is not a good idea. However, watery Pisces and lover of legal prose that I am, I'm not sure exactly where the line gets drawn. I'd vote, were I in the legislature, for constitutional amendments that enshrine, for example, the rights of plants and animals to not be driven to extinction by human profit. I'd enshrine the rights of women to control their own bodies. I'd enshrine the rights of all people to engage in adult, consensual sex of their choice without government intervention. (Maybe "enshrine" is a bad word in this context; say "establish" instead.) And, to be honest, my commitment to those ideals springs from my religion. So while I don't agree that: "Because the Bible (the way some now interpret it) says homosexuality is bad!" is a valid reason to change the state constitution, and while I agree that: "Because the Charge of the Goddess says that all acts of love and pleasure are rituals of the Goddess!" is not a valid reason to change the state constitution, I'm aware that religion sometimes influences the votes of the humans in the legislature. But, yes, like Markarios, I agree that the speaker's first point is the most valid.

Although the speaker is much more eloquent concerning his second point, which I'm about to discuss.

In the law (and I've no idea if this gentleman is a lawyer, or not, but, to my ear, he sounds like a good one), it's permissible, indeed often necessary, to "argue in the alternative." In other words, you can say to the court, "Look, my client did not pull the trigger. I've shown that with evidence A, B, and C. However, even if you find that he did pull the trigger, there are three reasons why he's still not guilty of this crime. First, . . . " And that's what I think the speaker is doing when he moves to: "the other thing . . ." and "what does it mean to the moral force of your arguments arguments if sexual orientation is god-given?" (You know how effective his argument is because his opponent jumps up and makes a jerk of himself saying, "Keep your applause to yourself." How does one even do that?) In other words, the speaker is saying, "First, we shouldn't enshrine religious beliefs in our Constitution. But, even if you believe that it's ok to do that -- to change the Constitution based upon your religious beliefs -- here's another reason why we shouldn't adopt this measure. We shouldn't adopt it because god keeps creating gay people, and how many gay people does god have to create before we accept that god wants them around?" In other words, the moral force of those "religious arguments" you've proposed is nil. So don't change the constitution based upon false religious beliefs, even if you think it's ok to change it based upon religious beliefs.

And to my lawyer's ear, that's ok. And to my lawyer's ear, it's ok to pull out your rhetorical guns against the argument you believe is most attractive to the person you're attempting to convince. And to my lawyer's ear, it's where this speaker's argument becomes so eloquent that it moves from mere prose to persuasive rhetoric, which can, in fact, stir people's souls and change their hearts. And, sometimes, their votes.

As to Markarios' other point, I had to smile, as I had dinner with a dear friend last night (her husband's homemade gumbo -- the nectar of the Gods!) and was making this very same point. I agree that sexual orientation, for the vast majority of the population, is innate. In the speaker's words, translated into mine, it's a "gift of the Goddess." I know that I didn't wake up one morning and decide to be "straight." I've heard from too many of the gay people I love how they spent nights on their knees praying "not to be gay" in a culture and religion that taught that there was little less acceptable than being gay. But I've also known people who engaged in whatever sex was available or approved at the time, whether that meant male homosexual sex in an all-boys' school or lesbian sex when (and this is how old I am) that was favored by feminists, and then went on to have lots of other kinds of sex.

Yet, importantly, I agree that, in my world at least, it should be irrelevant whether sexual orientation is innate (as it often is) or a "lifestyle" choice (as it can be). I don't believe that the government has any reason to tell any person what kind of adult, consensual sex is "Ok" or "sanctioned." And that's true regardless of the reason why that person chooses to engage in any kind of sex. But I also "get" that anti-discrimination laws are often based upon the fact that a person can't choose to be, for example, dark-skinned, or female, or differently-abled and, so, that makes it illogical and wrong to discriminate against them, as if the discrimination could cause them to change their "behavior."

And that brings me back to my religion. Because it's my religion that makes the sex act doctrinally important (well, the Christians seem to consider it important, as well, but for reasons that have nothing to do with what Jesus said and did and everything to do with patriarchy, control, fear, etc.) and freedom to practice all "rituals of the Goddess" free from government interference (especially because that government interference is often based upon (someone else's) religious beliefs) a really important point for me.

More to the point, I would sincerely love to hear more of the "people on our side" able to discuss these issues in a manner similar to this gentleman's discussion. (Good rhetoric backed by real belief.) I'm just embarrassed by Democrats who mouth some namby-pamby version (John Kerry and Barack Obama, I'm looking at you) of "I think marriage is a union between one man and one woman but I'd support blahhabhallahh and please don't hold this against me and could we please just change the subject?" And, in case ya'll haven't noticed, that's not working too well for you. The Christianists see through you and vote for your opponent and those on your side are dispirited. Grow up. Get some ovaries. Stand for something. Stand for sex-positive attitudes. Hell, could it hurt you worse than your Republican-Lite stance?

We're leaving the Age of Pisces (and I'm a Pisces) and moving into the Age of Aquarius. Humans are going to have to figure out some way to live in communities that don't share religious beliefs, even as we focus with laser-beam intensity on how to change the world. It's going to be interesting. I hope to hang around for a bit of it.

What do you think?

More interesting discussion here.