Grabbed from the Wild Hunt. I often forget that there is a real element of danger to the religion I practice – that any neopagan practices – and the danger comes not from ourselves but from those around us. Certainly I have had to stand up to family, but because I do not have children and because I am self-employed there’s relatively little that people can do to me these days. Even so, I did experience hostility from some corners in the past. All were dealt with, efficiently, and in one case where normally bigotry would run rife – at the local phone company I worked for briefly – I found myself supported by the most religiously conservative of the staff members, thanks to another out witch who used her outness abusively.

I left a coven in part because not only did they want me to go back in the broom closet, they wanted me to stop writing. I had been publishing for well over five years¹, ran a rather large website and appeared in occasional columns in the Star Tribune. There was no unringing that bell regardless of what those people wanted.²

The US, unfortunately, does have viciously narrow-minded people in it, but most are really easy to unplug. Just bear in mind: you can’t ignore them, you have to confront them the second they pull crap with you. Bullies are an example, after all, of minority rule – a school might only have one, but it’s enough, because no one thinks to band together to take the motherfucker down.

In Minneapolis “outness” isn’t much of an issue. Everybody’s out around here, whatever there is to be out, most of the time. It’s part of the draw. It’s definitely part of what drew me here.

This documentary looks really good to me; I hope it comes out well!

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1. this year marks my tenth year of publishing on occult subjects
2. There was also a certain contempt for my citizenship, age and basic ability to read and cross the street safely that went from good-natured to mean-spirited and eventually drained my tolerance.

Suddenly I’m looking at my high school peers’ sport of bouncing pennies in a whole new light. After a long series of weird and disturbing happenings I rediscovered the coins, or more specifically, had them pointed out to me. While they’ve been disposed of – the cure for a penny curse is a dollar coin cure – I can still feel the adolescent malevolence vibrating at me through the picture. I had stashed them on my balcony until the snow began to melt in earnest. Today I got the nudge, and gave them to the Mississippi River along with the cure. As each person looks at this, the power is diluted until it is nothing more than water flowing to the sea.

Also, for those wanting to show off power: only shitheads do this. Don’t.

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