The Council was a "Pagan" (2) writing and networking group. It was dedicated to the promotion of freedom of choice in faith and lifestyle, of meaningful dialog between those of different faiths, to concern for the well being of the individual, and to working out the contradictions that these sometimes conflicting objectives created. Given this agenda, as a matter of principle, it could not, as an organization, be a party to a political dispute in any form, regardless of the free and individual choices of our individual members and no matter how strongly some or all in the community felt about it. Metaphorically speaking, the Council was to be a neutral port, that all could pull into, to escape the stormy environment of the Witch Wars.

What the Council was about was breaking down barriers, and enhancing communication. "But aren't we all?", is the usual response. The polite answer to that is "yes" but the truthful one is "no". How many times have we seen members of the Pagan community respond to perfectly civil arguments they didn't care for with attempts to browbeat those making them into silence? How many times have we seen those around when such a tantrum has been thrown, treating the target of the tantrum as if he was the trouble maker when he refused to be intimidated? What has come from this "peace at any price" approach has been anything but free and open communication. That has to change.

In large part, the Council sought to effect change through the written word. The Agora served as a partial example of how we would do so. All groups had access to visibility there, regardless of how people felt about them, and all had the chance to speak for themselves. This was an opportunity that wasn't always present in real life, and really was the best antidote to backbiting and to politics, in our view. Given the existence of a forum where all can be heard, there is no threat of a social reprisal if one should read what an unpopular individual or group has written, because who will know? That's exactly what the written word gives us so often, and what some of us hoped it could offer the Pagan community.

Hence the name "The Agora". The Agora is the marketplace in the center of a Greek village where all are free to set up their booths, and the community will let their businesses prosper or flounder on their own merits. This was the name of the council's Pagan networking site, and was to be the name of the uncensored newsletter its membership intended to set up, and which they were seeking writers and assistants for. The only things insisted on were:



  1. That the member not break the law

    (The council didn't want to be sued)

  2. That the member should write well and with conviction


  3. That the member should be honest.


If others were "offended", they would be free to submit rebuttals. Given their stated neutrality in political disputes, though, it was hoped that these people would know better than to think that the Council could be persuaded to censor one of its contributers. Their feelings of offense would not have been an issue the council could have taken notice of, without breaching that neutrality. The Agora magazine was to be a place for all voices interesting enough to hold the editors' attention, whether they liked what the writers have to say or not.

Some, quite to our amazement, argued that our stated goals were incompatible (6), and that we should choose among them instead of seeking to work toward them all. On the contrary, we argued, each objective was but an aspect of the other. (Much as in the case of the values in the the Universal Base Code of Morality, the conflict between the goals was a sort of ironic long-term illusion in that to stress one at the expense of another beyond reason would eventually be to undermine not only that which one gave immediate short shrift to, but even that which one overemphasized! The Hellenic value of moderation in all things, as usual, was and is our guide).

As was explained on our internal mailing list :



" > .. What is the Council and what do they do?

The simplest answer, is that the Council is us. Well, at least offline. Online, it includes a few people who joined with me in the effort to put the Agora (3) site together. Overall, it is a writers' group.

Generally speaking, both on and offline, the Council is a meeting place, where people go to discuss their projects and find people to join in on them. There are certain ideals that tend to be supported. Namely, the desire to promote a vibrant and cohesive local community and respect for the rights and the dignity of the individual. (That last remark, in part, comes in response some of the nastier authoritarian tendencies too much of the community acquired during the Witch Wars of the Mid-90s).

The first project, being done by the Online branch of the membership, is the listing of Pagan groups on The Agora. The value of this, as the listings are fleshed out, is threefold. First of all, it helps newcomer find groups in which they would be comfortable (thus, helping the community to grow, and the groups within it to enjoy a greater compatibility within their memberships). Secondly, it gives the reader who already belongs to a group, more of a sense of who those people in the other groups are, and thus facilitates the forming of bonds between them. (Or, at least it will, if we can get people to be a little more open). Thirdly, on the rare occasions when someone arises in the community, that newcomers should be warned about, we have the chance to see to it that those who approach him, do so with open eyes.


For example, there is one group in this area, that on being questioned, defended its practice of charging $400 - 500 per class, after a lot of circumlocution, by saying that the hiring of caterers and professional musicians for their events ran up the bills, and putting the squeeze on those who felt drawn to them was a convenient way of raising money. Something like that shouldn't be anyone's introduction to Paganism. By helping people to avoid this sort of scam operation, we serve both the newcomer and the community we hope she will find herself at home in, alike. There is such a thing, as a collective reputation to worry about.

The newsletter in question would continue the work of helping the community to get to know itself, in detail, both the good and the bad. Further, in providing a place where the ideas of all can be heard, including those who are unpopular, we create open lines of communication in the community that can't be shut down by politicing. One can say (and some have) "let us shun that person and all who associate with him", but it is very hard for our would-be rulers of the community, to monitor who reads which article. This insures that dissenting voices can be heard and undermines the tendencies toward intolerant dogmatism (4) that have defined not only the recent history of our community, but so much of the recent history of the larger society it resides in.

But, it's not just serious philosophical, or political discussions that serve to bring us together. If we get a group of people together for the creation of a play, or the holding of a poetry or fiction writing night, aside from the ideas that may come out of the writing, those who take part are sharing a memory, and a non-passive bit of recreation, and that serves to form bonds. So, as our listing in the Agora indicates, we seek to achieve positive, conscientious change in the local Pagan community, through the Written word. "


A note on the letter above :

In this way, we see that writing can serve the purpose of networking. The reverse is equally true. Networking broadens the base of experience a writer draws from as he writes, brings him into contact with others who he can collaborate with and learn from, and well as bringing him into contact with his audiences.

It truly amazes us how many alleged Pagans can't seem to grasp the idea that a writer (or bard) plays a role in promoting the cohesion of a society, yes, even when controversial. Perhaps, especially then, because he gives the listeners something to discuss. This is a concept that we certainly did not originate, as it has some millenia of precedent behind it.

What image could be more quintessentially Pagan (7), than that of the crowd gathered around the storyteller, or the philosopher, as he speaks? For that matter, what image could be quintessentially Jewish to this very day? The presence of these things are the mark of a culture that still lives and evolves, guided by reason, not blind obedience to authority or traditions that have long since ceased to have any meaning for those called on to follow them by the society around them.

It is in the telling of stories that the traditional values and ways of the community are illustrated and preserved, in a manner that a simple expounding of doctrine would be inadequate to achieve. In any sane resolution of a conflict, for example, there will be a balancing of one good against another. No finite set of rules can capture this process, even in principle, as has often been argued, so at some point, common sense itself must intercede to amend the provisional codes of behavior that we work by. That which can not be defined by axiom, can only be defined by experience and example. This, our literature keeps us in mind of, or should.

When our values fail, as they inevitably must (5), it is in the writing of philosophy that new values are first developed and explored, and measured against that sense of the desirable that common sense has brought us. How can somebody call himself Pagan and not understand these simple truths, that did so much to define the character of real Pagan societies when they existed?


What have we seen instead, in a subculture that more and more, accepts a "cooperative" vacuousness as a substitute for substance in its discussions and gatherings? A 1990s - style politically correct call to "go along to get along", shrugging aside all complaints of the lunacy of what follows with a smirk and a nod, and a misplaced sense of victimhood when one discovers that the patience of one's increasingly put-upon neighbors is, indeed, an exhaustible resource. In the place of principle and common sense, those precious commodities that a respect for tradition puts within our grasp, one has a pecking order, and a craving for the alliances that allow one to rise within it.

But, the only way to rise is to shove another down. As alliances are maintained by the expectation that one will unfailingly come to an ally's support, all conflicts rapidly escalate if neither party quickly submits. Each ally in turn, calls on another to support him, until the process is cut off, either by running out of unmobilized allies, or by the fact that as one calls upon an ally, an ally higher in his personal pecking order, has called on him to take the other side. (This, naturally, often ends what had passed for a friendship between him and the lower ranking ally).

Not only can a system not produce anything other than tyranny, it can not even produce a stable tyranny. For all to be guided by the same version of the pecking order, the lines of communication would have to be clear enough for the stories of the events that defined that order to be transmitted clearly. But local considerations, as higher ranked people (in one's own order) near one object to the transmission of this story, or that, and demand either revision or silence, serve to insure that this would never be the case. End result, nobody ever quite knows where he stands in this mess and so the wars never cease.



How ironic that, so often, others will tell us to "go along to get along" for the sake of peace, when doing so serves to preserve those very institutions that guarantee that peace is never seen. For a situation to calm down, some would have to break rank and become the isolated targets of somebody's next outburst. The only exits from the situation are either capitulation (made doubly galling by a code that measures a man's value by his clout) or by departure from the circle of associations. Count the number of cases where one is told never to speak of person A to person B. Does this boundless respect for politics seem to be building community or destroying it?

Given this, to those who tell us to choose whether we wish to write or build community, and foolishly speak of the "damage" that free and open discourse (and the questioning of the views of self-appointed elders) will bring, our response is this : when you speak of community, remember where it is that it has been found, and how it is that it was maintained.


So goes the argument in favor of the effort, but what of it?

It was never to be, at least not there. I soon found that I had grossly overestimated the community that I had intended to serve, both ethically and intellectually. The Council went on indefinite break, waiting for the day when it would find a community worth serving.

Such has seemed to have been the fate of the efforts of others who sought to bring a voice of moderation to the community, as well, judging from subsequent discussions. As we shall see, The "Reader Circuit", the community which is home to the groups I speak of in the Prima Nocturne Incident, can't seem to handle an honest controversy or two without the social order breaking down within it. So, why bother with it? Our time is best invested elsewhere.

Where did you reach this page from?



  1. "The Prima Nocturne Incident"
  2. "Our Once and Future Newsletter"