BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before, but in case you are new here… Oh, what the hell… It bears repeating even for the regulars:

E K despises Wal-Mart.  And, when I say despises that is very simply the strongest family friendly word I can pull out of my pocket at this juncture. If she could, E K would have Wal-Mart strapped to the wall down in her dungeon so she could torture it on a daily basis. She hates the organization just that much.

Living under that same roof with her I have come to understand this, and to even plan routes to restaurants and cinemas so that they avoid coming within 10 miles of a Wal-Mart. It’s sort of a self-preservation thing. However, since E K is not only evil, she has the built in “Mom Thing” going on, the O-spring can at least get away with mentioning the name of the vile organization without paying the price I – or another adult – would.

And so, since Wal-Mart attracts a “certain” demographic, which then allows them to cut deals with manufacturers or even musical artists that cater to said demographic, the life sucking mecca of retail depravity happened to be the exclusive reseller of a particular CD. A particular CD that it turns out the O-spring wanted “really, really bad.” This, of course, led to the child badgering The Evil One relentlessly about shopping there – whether in person or online, she didn’t care.

Eventually the badgering wore on E K, and one night as the O-spring dropped not so subtle hints around our office, the redhead went ahead and surfed over to the online cesspool of Satan’s Shopping Center. (That would be Wal-Mart just in case you aren’t following.)

The O-spring watched on as the supremely evil one scanned the site. After a few silent moments the kid looked at her mother and with every bit of seriousness she could muster announced in a matter-of-fact tone, “You didn’t know Wal-Mart had this much information didya?”

A minute or two later, as E K and I were cleaning our drinks off our monitors, the daughter turned to me and said, “This is going to be blog material, isn’t it?”

Why yes… Yes it is.

More to come…

Murv

The other day a friend of mine (yes, I have friends) told me that a mutual friend had asked him “what had happened to me?” By this she apparently meant, “What life altering experience had slapped me in the back of the head with a 2 by 4 and made me eschew my spiritual path.”

I’ll be honest. This came as a shock to me because I was entirely unaware that I had done so. My spiritual path has grown immensely over the years, but it has never been abandoned. It has been right there with me all along.

Now, granted, I have not “self-identified” as Pagan for quite a long time now. There are numerous reasons for this, none of which we will go into here because my blog is generally a fun place – although, I will admit to soapboxing every now and again. And, as it happens, I will be doing so here today… But, I really don’t want to create too many suds, if you know what I mean, therefore we will stick to one brand of detergent for this missive.

So, anyway, back to “what happened to me”… To be perfectly honest, at the outset I didn’t really think too much about the “question.” After all, it had been years since I’d seen the particular individual who was making the actual query, so I had to assume she was mistaking growth for a “negative change” (in her eyes, at least). But, as it turns out I wasn’t able to keep it on the back burner for long, because soon afterward I started receiving the annual “what’s wrong with you?” emails from other folks…

Yes, I said annual…

You see, not a year goes by that I don’t receive at least a dozen or so queries from folks out there who cannot seem to understand why a guy who writes books about Witches, and who portrays Paganism in general – as well as various specific alternative religious practices – in a positive, and moreover accurate light, would stoop so low as to celebrate *GaSp!* Christmas… After all, anyone with any sense whatsoever can tell you that the historical probability that Jesus – if he even existed – couldn’t possibly have been born on December 25th. But, even more importantly, how dare me, a “Pagan Author,” celebrate a *GaSp!* Christian Holiday. Everyone knows they co-opted our celebration, so why am I choosing to observe it and lend credence to them? Have I *GaSp!* turned into a Christian?

Oh noes… Say it ain’t so!

I’ll be truthful here – At all of this nonsense I would expel a hearty laugh were it not so utterly sad and ridiculous. Instead, I find that I must expel a hearty and saddened sigh, complete with a shake of my head.

You see, what always seems to prompt these emails is the fact that E K, the O-Spring, and I exchange gifts on Christmas morning instead of Yule proper – that being the Winter Solstice. The complaint is, if we were “proper Pagans” we would exchange our gifts on the 21st of the month – or for the truly fundamental, 0 degrees Capricorn – instead of observing a *GaSp!* Christian Holiday.

Yes… Believe it or not, that is the basis of the “what’s wrong with you?” emails I receive each year… Some of them are actually flat out scathing, accusing me of undermining Paganism. Apparently I am a spy sent to infiltrate the ranks of Pagandom and infect it with Christmas Cheer… Who knew? Hell, I’ve even had people tell me they are never going to read my novels again, because obviously I am “not Pagan enough” to warrant their attention.

True story. Really. Even I couldn’t make this sh*t up.

So, allow me to point out a couple of things that might have some bearing on what is wrong with me…

1. My family and I celebrate Christmas as a secular holiday. This means the Coca-Cola Santa Claus and all that jazz, even though the O-Spring hasn’t believed in the jolly elf for many a year now.
2. We also celebrate Yule as a spiritual holiday. For us, this means a fire, a feast, and good friends present at both to help us usher in the light.

So, what does all this mean?  Well, depending on who you ask it apparently means that “I ain’t Pagan enough,” all because we wait an extra 4 days to open our presents.

Oh well… Guess I’d better turn in my broom…

More to come…

Murv