| Ich-Theology | Nancy Drewid | Animal Gods |
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| If Bill Gates wrote a book on Wicca.... | Beltane Blues |
- Lorelei Greenwood -
One day while changing the water in the aquarium, I began to wonder just what my guppies thought of all this. And, as in a dream, the answer came...
The Fish believe in a Saviour of Fishkind. And though fish are many in type, they do agree that the Mighty Finned Ones are multi-scaled and can appear as any fish at any time. All of Fishkind are worthy to enter the Land of Pure Waters, from the plainest guppy to the flashiest tropical.
Their one allowed graven idol is the Divine Bubbler, the Giver of Breathable Silvery Roundish Things.
There is the dreaded but accepted Time of the Great Green Netting, which shall enter their world and remove the no-longer inhabited scales of a loved one.
Miracles also abound in FishWorld. For example, there is the odd yet fulfilling Time of New Waters where their world changes dramatically for a few moments and reverts, only now with a fresh environment which doesn't quite so much resemble London at 5AM.
And there is the cautiously regarded Quintopus, the warm-blooded, five-scaled creature which enters their domain occasionally to re-arrange the furniture
Fish Gods appear to have had great plans for Fishkind as was written on the Holy Clamshells of Glurb, but due to a typographical error by an overworked Hebrew transcriptionist, their Reign of Fish became a Rain of Fish. He was quite apologetic.
Their commandments change with the tides, but the main ones seem to run, uh, swim thus:
1.Thou shalt not believe the words spoken by the Philistine fish in "The Meaning of Life".
2.Thou shalt nip the fins of the naughty ones, in Our names.
3.Thou shalt spawn only at the Appointed Times.
4.Thou shalt eat only the young of thine own issue. (Yes, fish do eat their young. They find it more sensible).
5.Thou shalt not attempt to evolve. Opposing thumbs are not all they're cracked up to be. And Darwin was not a guppy.
6.Thou hast no need of a bicycle. Don't ask.
7.Thou shalt not eat of the J-shaped snacks, though they tempt you
8.Thou shouldst endeavour mightily in thy goode works and Spawning efforts. (But even We think Salmon are overachievers).
9.The next fish found doing television commercials for the Superbowl is either going to have to concede to great punishment or give Us a cut of the pay. We mean it.
And most importantly...
10.Thou shalt not use the Divine Bubbler as a sexual aide.
JMA 2001
- Lorelei Greenwood -
When last we met, Nancy was clutching crazily at a crumbling cliff-side, hanging on a hazardous hillside, dangling down the deadly drop-off... of indecision...
"To cast the Love Spell or not to cast the Love Spell... hmmmmm..."
Well, she certainly had time enough to make that decision. Her parents had confined her to her room for a week. for sneaking out to see the movie "The Craft." To her strict Pagan parents, it was as much a religious outrage as "The Last Temptation of Christ" was to Christians.
"All the other kids are going to see it," she insisted, which of course provoked the inane reply from her folks: "If all your friends went out to drink Flying Potions stark naked under the New Moon, would you?"
She was just able to stop herself from saying "Been there, done that."
"Let's see... red candle, check. Cinnamon, check. Ronnie's picture, yep *sigh*. Bit of his hair, check. And a blank class schedule for next semester, check."
Thumbing through Unca Bucky's Big Blue Book of Chant-O-Matics, she found the chapter she needed. Taking a deep breath, she lit the candle, sprinkled the cinnamon on top, burned the hair, reconsidered and burned more cinnamon, and taking up the picture in one hand and the schedule in the other, she began to weave the spell.
"Ronnie-Ronnie-Ronnie-Ronnie, mine-mine-mine-mine, Ronnie-Ronnie-Ronnie-Ronnie, now-now-now-now. Ronnie-Ronnie..."
"What's that smell?" cried her mother, bursting into the darkened bedroom. "What are you doing in here?"
Nancy hid the picture and schedule behind her in a flash.
"Prosperity spell."
Her mother smiled indulgently. "Green candle, honey." And left.
Slumping in relief, Nancy tried to recapture the moment. But alas, it was lost.
"Just as well," she thought. "That was not a world-winning chant anyway." She flipped through the book some more. "Hmm, let's try this one. Ronnie, Ronnie, come to me. Be my snuggly fantasy. Arms and hair and eyes I see. Ronnie, Ronnie, come to me!"
She barely heard the phone ring five minutes later.
"Naaaaaaaan," her little brother Bobby called through the closed door. "Phone. Some guy."
Nancy's eyes popped open. Wow! What fast results!
"Gotta remember to give a call to Llewellyn Publishers tomorrow!"
She raced out of her room to the kitchen and grabbed the phone.� Taking a deep breath, she answered in the most sultry voice her 16-year-old throat could manage.
"Hello, darling," she rasped, eyes at half-mast. "I've been waiting for your call. You must know how much I want to hear from you."
"I'm glad to hear you, too. I've been thinking... well, you know the Homecoming Dance next Friday night? Well, I was wondering if you wanted to be my date. I'd be picking you up at 7:30."
She held the phone to her rapidly-beating heart for a moment, sending a silent prayer of thanks to her deity. "Why of course I will! I'd love to go. I can just see you now in your swell suit, driving your bright Ford to the school, us making such an entrance..."
"Uh, Nancy, I don't have a car."
Her hand flew to her mouth in fear. "Oh dear! Ronnie, what happened to it?"
"Ronnie? Who's Ronnie? This is Mert. But anyway, my Mom and Dad and I will be over to pick you up at 7:30, so don't be late, Mom hates waiting. Well, see you Friday."
And he hung up.
Nancy gasped in shock. No! Not Mert! Not Mert Lingerman! Mert Lingerman was the nerdiest boy in all of Smithdale! And she'd just agreed to accompany him to the swankiest event of the school year!
What was she to do?!
Will Nancy stand him up? Or if she goes to the dance with Mert, will she be able to face life at school unscathed? Should she pretend to contract a fatal disease Friday afternoon? And will that doggone burning hair smell ever come out of the drapes? Join us next time and find out!
JMA 2001
- Lorelei Greenwood -
Frogs are naturally Pagan. They are born into Water, evolve onto Earth, leap into the Air, and subsequently land in Fire as the Daily Special at some bar and grill in Louisiana. A recent addition to their commandments: "Thou shalt not appear in any more beer commercial ads without giving us a cut. We're serious."
Birds, though horribly defamed on film by a certain English author, are quite Pagan. They represent the element of Air, and are often sacrificed to Bast.
Cats pay homage to many Gods: Bast, Sekmet, Sheba, Purina, and Narcissus to name a few.
Horses have played an important role in Pagan mythology and have enjoyed their royal status for eons. Many Sun Gods are said to ride fiery, horse-driven chariots across the sky. There was, however, a great upheaval in Horse Valhalla when the Ford Motor Company created the Mustang and the Pinto.
Any Fantasy animal (unicorns, dragons, good men) must be Zen. Nuff said.
JMA 2001
- Lorelei Greenwood -
Are you tired of the paperwork involved in insurance claims? Sick of being sued for defective spells?
Well here's your answer! The office of Dewey Cheedem & Howe has worked diligently to form the first Religious Mal-Practice Insurance company. No more long insurance forms to fill out - we'll do it for you! All it takes is a one-time visit for informational paperwork and disclaimer forms, and you're set.
1-800-Dial-A-Witch, this is for you! New-age snake-oil salesmen, stop on by! If you're within the sight of our ad, you too can have the protection that dozens of charlatans just like yourself have already (of course) taken advantage of.
Read what one satisfied customer has to say. "I was truly at the end of my rope. Every day, calls about this spell not working or 'He gave the love potion to my dog, and now my leg is bruised.' I never before believed that it could be so easy. Thank you, Dewey Cheedem & Howe!" (This is not a paid actor).
At Dewey Cheedem & Howe, we're working - for you!
A privately owned corporation. Rev's Bakker, Roberts, and Falwell, please stop calling. We remain firm - we will not represent you.
JMA 2001
- Lorelei Greenwood -
As my sleepy body stumbles out of bed, the only thought in my mind is the Blessed Beverage and the Ritual of Awakening.
To the Sacred Place of Creation I go, eyes half mast, brain not even that far. I get my working tools from their familiar places (nope, darnit, milk in the fridge, sugar on the table...) and kneel before the Holy Awakener.
"Greetings of the day, most revered of machines," I say (in spirit if not in letter).
Offering up the elements of Earth and Water, I push the Sacred Button of Fire, and wait, slumped against the counter, letting the element of Air carry the first strains of promise.
"Hail to the four mighty Elements." Or something like that.
As I can no longer hear the element of Water, I take up the consecrated Chalice and the great Vessel of Caffeinated Beverages. Through the graces of some God or another, I make a meeting of the two.
In a disheveled procession to the Sacred Circle (the table), a few drops are spilled in homage to Mother Earth. I arrive at the Circle, take my seat, mumble another garbled blessing, and lift the Divine Drinking Dish to my lips.
And *BANG POW ZIP!!* I am drawn forth from the realm of the half-dead to the Blessed Land of the Coherent by a thundering Chariot of Caffeine drawn by the mighty steeds Hazelnut and Greenmountain, proving once again that Coffee IS a religious experience!
JMA 2001
When Politically Correct gets out of hand Old, outmoded, politically incorrect (read: unsafe) conversation:
"Hi."
"Hey!"
"How are you?"
"Oh, not bad."
"Cool."
Socially, politically correct future conversation as regulated by the Moral Minority and other socio-political benches:
"I extend my greetings, yet know you are under no obligation to accept them."
"They are received, and I return my own greetings, if you are so inclined to accept them."
"Accepted. I inquire as to your health, should you wish to impart such information."
"My thanks, should you desire it. My health is... adequate."
"If your adequate health is acceptable to yourself, then I am glad for you and extend to you my happiness upon hearing such news. But should your adequate health be still lacking in your opinion, then I offer my regret, should you wish to accept it."
JMA 2001
The book would be called Windows to the Goddess.
Iconology was be a major chapter.
A revised edition would be released approximately every 6 months without which your magic would no longer work.
Your broom would crash at least once a week.
Cauldrons would be called recycle bins.
A book of shadows would be called the folder of magic.
A free high speed connection spell would come with every book.
Every now and then, your circle would collapse and you would have to perform the reboot ritual to get it working.
If you used the more powerful MagicNT rituals, the above would happen to all circles within a 5 mile radius.
At least once a month, you would have to reinstall your spells into your folder of magic.
You would have to use a start ritual to exit your circle. (and cake and wine would only be available after a sign from the Goddess saying it was safe to do so).
Joined by the Gods: A Book of Pagan Marriage
