Witches Brew

I have feasted on roast pork, which the Ancient Celts believed was the food of immortality. The magical pigs belonged to the God Manannan; slaughtered in the evening for the feast, the pigs were reborn again in the morning. (Just as the leftovers of my feast will be resurrected for most of this coming week…) Roast pork, acorn squash, Arbor Mist blackberry merlot wine cooler, and a big cinnamon roll. And now I am watching Betelgeuse.

The Celts considered Samhain to be the end of the year. Debts were settled, law cases were heard, chieftains renewed their vows of loyalty to their kings, and the kings swore loyalty to the High King in Tara. At the end of summer and the beginning of the “dark months” the veil between the ordinary world of the living and the spirit worlds of the dead and of Faerie was at its thinnest. Many of the great hero tales, which were often tales of transformation, began with a mysterious visitation at Samhain.

This is the time of year when we remember departed friends and loved ones. My parents have been gone for thirty years, and I miss them. Our house was open to people of different races and religions, and I am sorry that I am not as tolerant as they were. They purchased some acreage in the country where we had some memorable cookouts. One Halloween Dad invited the young furniture movers who worked with him and their dates. The path back to the pasture was lit by Jack-O-Lanterns. The girls were amazed by the golden pumpkins–living on the South Side, in the inner city they had never seen Jack-O-Lanterns. They had never roasted hot dogs over an open fire or toasted marshmallows. (And they took the pumpkins home with them, and we had none left for Halloween.)

These days we are all disconnected from our food supply and the source of our consumer goods. And we are facing the crisis of Peak Oil. As cheap fuel evaporates and prices of everyday goods skyrockets, we will have to rebuild local manufacturing and local food networks. Witches Brew turned two years old this month, and I have decided to launch a new blog Brewing A Pagan Permaculture.

According to Wikipedia: “Permaculture is an approach to designing human settlements and perennial agricultural systems that mimics the relationships found in natural ecologies. It was first developed by Australians Bill Mollison and David Holmgren and their associates during the 1970s in a series of publications. The word permaculture is a portmanteau of permanent agriculture, as well as permanent culture.”

Brewing a Pagan Permaculture will talk about creating an urban agriculture and an urban Pagan community in the years we have available before Mother Nature hits the reset button on our consumerist society. I’ll have stories about urban pioneers, alternate energy sources, and the Post Industrial Society. I’ll have links to innovative websites and lists of useful books. I will feature Pagan leaders who are already working on permaculture and the post-industrial economy. And I will try to create a Pagan theaology of decay and renewal.

Ricardo Alonso-Zaldivar, Associated Press Writer, is reporting that end-of-life planning has survived the critical hysteria and is still in the Democratic health care bill released on Thursday. This is the provision for Medicare-paid counseling that Sarah Palin, who now admits that she’s gone rogue, called “death panels” for seniors.

If. by some fluke, the provision actually makes it into the final health care bill, paid end-of-care counseling could be a boon to Pagans who are sick unto death and trying to cope with non-Pagan family and healthcare providers. Most Pagans believe that Death is a natural part of Living, and a great many Pagans believe in some form of reincarnation. We tend to see Time as a circle or a Spiral. Christians tend to see Time as linear (a view that can turn decisions on about beginning-of-life issues, end-of-life issues, world affairs, and the environment into Hell on Earth).

Starhawk (Miriam Simos) began thinking seriously about end-of-life rituals when her mother died in 1992. Starhawk wrote, “When you are dying, you do not have the energy to create. When you are grieving you are already overwhelmed, faced with decisions and demands at a time when coping extraordinarily difficult. You are in no position to design new rituals or write new liturgies.”

At that time Starhawk and her brother were grateful for a long tradition of Jewish rules and rituals for dealing with death. “My mother was a psychotherapist, an expert in loss and grief who worked daily with the bereaved….After accompanying her through the process of her dying, I vowed to create Pagan liturgy for death. ” She began collecting the chants and prayers that were already in use in the Pagan community. At first the pages were photocopied and faxed around the country as needed. And then she turned over her collection to M. Macha Nightmare. The Pagan Book of Living and Dying, by Starhawk, M. Macha Nightmare & The Reclaiming Collective was published in 1995.

The book contains sections on “Pagan Tradition,” “The Pagan View of Death.” “Death Has Many Faces (AIDS, children, Violence, and Sudden Death).” and “Carrying On.” There are dozens of rituals, prayers, songs and chants, poems. meditations and visualizations written by many members of the Pagan community. For a young religious movement without accumulated centuries of wisdom literature, The Pagan Book of Living and Dying has been a great gift to the community.

Online I have recently discovered the work of Clare Slaney in the UK. According to her profile: “I ran the Pagan Hospice and Funeral Trust, later the Voyager Trust, from 1992 and work as a Chaplain and psychotherapist.” She writes several blogs which may insight to folks who are dealing with their mortality or assisting someone else who is critically ill. The main one is Pagan Chaplaincy: Reflections, suggestions, questions on being clergy in a religion with no priesthood. The second one is Caring For The Pagan Patient: For non-Pagan health care professionals. And the third one is Being a Pagan in Hospital. Only Pagan Chaplancy is updated regularly, but the other two have lasting value.

Dave Haxton at MacRaven, Fox News in Raleigh, NC, and a host of other bloggers and online newspapers are reporting that Pastor Marc Grizzard and 14 other members of the Amazing Grace Baptist Church in Canton, NC, are planning a Bible burning and BBQ for Halloween Night. Yep, Bibles… And the works of heretics like Billy Graham, Rick Warren, and Mother Teresa. Earlier this month the Amazing Grace website was taken down by the website host when the Bibles hit the proverbial internet fan, but Haxton copied the content. From MacRaven:

Come to our Halloween book burning. We are burning Satan’s bibles like the NIV, RSV, NKJV, TLB, NASB, NEV, NRSV, ASV, NWT, Good News for Modern Man, The Evidence Bible, The Message Bible, The Green Bible, ect. These are perversions of God’s Word the King James Bible.

We will also be burning Satan’s music such as country, rap, rock, pop, heavy metal, western, soft and easy, southern gospel, contempory Christian, jazz, soul, oldies but goldies, etc.

We will also be burning Satan’s popular books written by heretics like Westcott & Hort, Bruce Metzger, Billy Graham, Rick Warren, Bill Hybels, John McArthur, James Dobson, Charles Swindoll, John Piper, Chuck Colson, Tony Evans, Oral Roberts, Jimmy Swagart, Mark Driskol, Franklin Graham, Bill Bright, Tim Lahaye, Paula White, T.D. Jakes, Benny Hinn, Joyce Myers, Brian McLaren, Robert Schuller, Mother Teresa, The Pope, Rob Bell, Erwin McManus, Donald Miller, Shane Claiborne, Brennan Manning, William Young, etc.

We are not burning Bibles written in other languages that are based on the TR. We are not burning the Wycliffe, Tyndale, Geneva or other translations that are based on the TR.

We will be serving Bar-b-Que Chicken, fried chicken, and all the sides.

If you have any books or music to donate, please call us for pick-up. If you like you can drop them off at our church door anytime. Thanks.

Fox News, which we all know is “Fair & Balanced” did a feature on Pastor Grizzard last week.

And if that doesn’t make you feel like you’ve already eaten too many Reese’s Cups, MacRaven, in the same post, alerts us to the forthcoming “Conservative Bible Project”. Now, I’ve done a search online to see if this is a hoax–and the web debunkers are all scratching their heads–but apparently this is for real: Conservapedia is preparing a new translation of the Bible that will edit out nasty Liberal Bias. My hand to Goddess:

As of 2009, there is no fully conservative translation of the Bible which satisfies the following ten guidelines:[2]

1. Framework against Liberal Bias: providing a strong framework that enables a thought-for-thought translation without corruption by liberal bias
2. Not Emasculated: avoiding unisex, “gender inclusive” language, and other feminist distortions; preserve many references to the unborn child (the NIV deletes these)
3. Not Dumbed Down: not dumbing down the reading level, or diluting the intellectual force and logic of Christianity; the NIV is written at only the 7th grade level[3]
4. Utilize Powerful Conservative Terms: using powerful new conservative terms to capture better the original intent;[4] Defective translations use the word “comrade” three times as often as “volunteer”; similarly, updating words that have a change in meaning, such as “word”, “peace”, and “miracle”.
5. Combat Harmful Addiction: combating addiction[5] by using modern terms for it, such as “gamble” rather than “cast lots”;[6] using modern political terms, such as “register” rather than “enroll” for the census
6. Accept the Logic of Hell: applying logic with its full force and effect, as in not denying or downplaying the very real existence of Hell or the Devil.
7. Express Free Market Parables; explaining the numerous economic parables with their full free-market meaning
8. Exclude Later-Inserted Inauthentic Passages: excluding the interpolated passages that liberals commonly put their own spin on, such as the adulteress story
9. Credit Open-Mindedness of Disciples: crediting open-mindedness, often found in youngsters like the eyewitnesses Mark and John, the authors of two of the Gospels
10. Prefer Conciseness over Liberal Wordiness: preferring conciseness to the liberal style of high word-to-substance ratio; avoid compound negatives and unnecessary ambiguities; prefer concise, consistent use of the word “Lord” rather than “Jehovah” or “Yahweh” or “Lord God.”

Thus, a project has begun among members of Conservapedia to translate the Bible in accordance with these principles. The translated Bible can be found here.

I think Jesus will be wanting a word with these folks when He gets back.

I just about went nuts when I decided to keep a blessings journal. By the time I got to Day 20 of my 30 day project, I was feeling decidedly ungrateful for the opportunity!

But i had a lesson in gratitude Sunday, so I thought I would take a minute to enumerate my recent blessings. A friend and I rented two tables at the Expo Gardens Flea Market. It was a very slow day; I made back the cost of the table but probably earned 50 cents an hour for the outing. Still, Sunday afternoon while we had a small spurt of gawkers, this middle-aged man stopped in the middle of the aisle right in front of our table. He calls after his wife, “I’m bleeding. I just started bleeding!” She comes back. “I don’t know,” he says. “I was just walking down that outside aisle and my arm started bleeding.”

I got the fall allergies, so the tissue box was sitting next to my money box. I started waving a tissue at him. “Yoo-hoo! Need a Kleenex?”

He took the Kleenex and pressed it against the small trickle of blood on his forearm. Then he began to tell us this horror story about having a cyst/canker-like thing recently removed from his other arm. How it had grown like a wart–only hard–and then ruptured and the center of it had fallen out and he’d had a skin graft, and now this arm was bleeding the same way…! And my brain is trying to pretend that I am not hearing this, but it’s too late! Meanwhile my friend has produced a little first aid kit from her purse and peeled a bandage.

He’s thanked me once for the tissue and thanked her from the bandage. Then he says again, with heart-felt sincerity, “Thank you for the tissue and the bandage.” And my throat closed up for a second because he was really saying, “Thank you for noticing that I was in distress.” Thank you for noticing... He was standing in the middle of the crowded aisle, and we saw him.

Oh, well, shit! So here’s a list of blessings for this week. I don’t know if I can do ten, but let’s try.

1.) I’m grateful for the friends who hauled my tubs of junk to Expo and back.

2.) I’m grateful for the encounter that reminded me about gratitude and being connected to strangers and friends.

3.) I’m grateful for the stopper in my cash flow these last two weeks: forced back to a diet of Cheerios and ramen noodles, I’ve dropped some more weight. I can’t say for sure, but I’m guessing this is the thinnest I’ve been in about fifteen years.

4.) I’m deeply grateful to Ms Renner from the Social Security Administration yesterday morning and offered to do my application over the phone. I had struggled online for a couple of weeks with the disability report. I have been impressed with the helpfulness of everyone I have spoken with at the SSA.

5.) I am deeply grateful that the stopper in the cash flow has been removed: I will be able to pay my rent and my phone bill this week. –And I had been sweating the rent!

6.) I am grateful for the rosemary garlic chicken and the Ben & Jerry’s Karmel Sutra ice cream with which I celebrated the rent payment.

7.) I am grateful that my groundhogs were out at the riverfront yesterday. I had begun to think they had gone underground for the season, but there were four fat, sleek rodents grazing in the lot.

8.) I am grateful for Swiss Miss Mocha Cappuccino cocoa,which is lowfat and tastes good by itself or in actual coffee! A Milky Way is 75 cents and a box of eight envelopes of cocoa is $1.25

9.) I am grateful I made enough money at Expo to cut my hair–and maybe go to a movie.

10.) I’m grateful for the pork roast sitting in my freezer. I am going to have a lovely feast for Samhain.

Oh, never laugh when a hearse goes by,
For you may be the next to die…
They wrap you up in a big white sheet,
And bury you under six feet deep.

The folks at The Family Plot invite you to celebrate the 10th anniversary of “Create a Great Funeral Plan Day.” The Family Plot: Funeral Planning for Those Who don’t Plan to Die is actually a cheery site: Blog posts include “Death Cartoons”, “Funeral Bits News,” “Funeral Home How-To”, “Memorable Life Celebrations,” and more.

Gail Rubin, author of The Family Plot, has a light touch She quotes Larry Anspach, co-founder of Funeralwise, “ Funeral planning is much like planning a wedding. It has many of the same elements, only it is a celebration of a life past instead of two lives going forward. Our Quick Plan is like the wedding engagement, when you make the most important decisions, and the details follow at a later time.”

Co-founder Rick Paskin, adds, “Considering that relatively few people have funeral plans and most do not discuss their funeral preferences with family members, even a basic plan is a great funeral plan. With the Funeralwise.com Quick Plan, you make several key choices concerning your funeral arrangements. In a matter of minutes, you complete the most important elements of a funeral plan and get a funeral cost range. That’s a great step forward for most people.”

And all goes well for ’bout a week
And then your coffin begins to leak.
The worms crawl in and the worms crawl out.
The worms play pinochle in your snout.

I tried the Quick Plan: the estimate for a simple cremation, ashes scattered at the cemetery, and a memorial service came in around $3K. Uh, I think I will skip the memorial service. One of my kitties is already dead in a pretty red box–just dump her ashes in the box with me and throw us under the hemlock tree beside the family lots in Springdale (please find a good home for the living cat). Sing “Amazing Grace” if you want. It was good enough for Spock It’s Pagan enough for me. If anybody feels a need to celebrate my life, take me to Red Lobster now! If you want to celebrate when I’m dead, feel free to order a pizza at LaGondola/Leonardo’s.

And one little worm that isn’t so shy
Crawls in your ear and out your eye.
Your eyes fall out and your teeth decay,
And that’s the end of a perfect day!

Does Harry Potter promote witchcraft? Harry’s critics have been telling us for a decade that Harry and his friends do encourage young people to dabble in the occult arts. That’s one of the reasons Harry Potter series ranks 7th on the list of “100 Most Frequently Challenged Books.” So, if you were a wizard promoting a school of wizardry, you might want to take your curriculum to a Harry Potter convention, right? That’s what Oberon Zell thought in July when he took his Grey School of Wizardry to Azkatraz in San Francisco.

Zell has been one of the most colorful and eclectic figures in modern Paganism since he read Robert Heinlein’s Stranger in a Strange Land in 1962. Mostly as a lark he and college buddy Lance Christie took up the religion preached by character Michael Valentine Smith, a youth raised by native elders on Mars. Stranger IS a subversive book; Zell’s collegiate geste became, in truth, Smith’s Church of All Worlds. In 1967, Zell identified his religion as “Pagan”, earned a DD, and became first Priest of CAW.

CAW was incorporated in 1968, and Zell began publishing The Green Egg. I was a huge fan of science fiction writer Harlan Ellison, who wrote a weekly TV column called “The Glass Teat” in the L.A. Free Press. Around 1972 I found an ad for CAW in the Freep ads, and began subscribing to The Green Egg. The Freep and The Green Egg opened vistas for a very young woman from Peoria…but it would be almost thirty years before I identified as a Pagan.

Kids today have a lot of exposure to Paganism and witchcraft, right? They are ripe for the plucking, yes? Well, no, not at Azkatraz… If your name wasn’t Dumbledore, and you weren’t recruiting for Hogwarts, you were just taking up space in the vendor’s room.

Zell’s table was sponsored by Mythic Images: “[An] online catalog and informational resource. We are a family owned company dedicated to the rebirth of mythology and the awakening of Gaia.” Zell is an artist as well as a writer, lecturer, musician, and wizard instructor. The cornerstone of the Mythic Image collect is Zell’s iconic sculpture “Millennial Gaia.”

According to Zell:

Harry Potter fans aren’t interested in Wizardry, Witchcraft, Magick, an online school, or anything that isn’t specifically and only about the Harry Potter stories and characters. The only successful vendor was the one selling licensed trademark Harry Potter merchandise—such as Hogwarts House patches and regalia, movie replica wands, Harry Potter games and toys—and pointy hats.

Mythic Images lost money on their sponsorship, but Zell got the same kind of eduction at the fan convention that I got when I received my first copy of the Freep. You can read about Zell’s trip on his blog: scroll down to “Azkatraz.”

Samhain is coming; the Veil Between the Worlds grows thinner. We welcome our ancestors, and the Good Folk who live beyond the Veil…

Let me say emphatically that I do not mess around with Ouija boards, automatic writing, or any kind of communication that purports to talk with “spirits” or “guides.” I mucked about with those in my youth and tapped only the cess pool of my adolescent angst. I consider myself lucky that i escaped to tell the tale. (I have nothing against tarot cards, the I Ching or other types of divination that draw upon archetypal imagery.) Nevertheless…

I found myself charmed by The Museum of Talking Boards: An Online Museum of Ouija Boards. Talking Boards date back to the 1850’s, and the museum’s History page and FAQ page will give you a glimpse into American Spiritualism. I was taken by the gallerys of antique boards.

From 1890 to 1950 dozens of different manufacturers with names like Kennard, Fuld, Haskelite, and Lee, cranked out their unique versions of the Wonderful Talking Board. Some displayed fanciful images of pyramids, swamis, and strange, mystical places. Others were more akin to Halloween with pictures of black cats, witches, and devils. Some boards, cheaply made, were merely poor imitations of the more successful ones. Despite their popular appeal, most talking boards were used a couple of times, shelved, and eventually thrown away. This resulted in the tragic loss of a fascinating American art form. At the Museum of Talking Boards, we think that it’s time we celebrated this forgotten art. So come along with us as we display the boards, give you a little history, and if we can’t answer all of your questions, feel free to ask the Ouija.

Visit this charming, comprehensive site, and get in the Halloween spirit.

Today is National Coming Out Day, and The Outer Alliance, an organization for GLBTQ science fiction & fantasy writers, readers, and their straight allies are blogging about coming out experiences. Many are posting excerpts from their Works in Progress.

The dynamics of coming out are pretty much the same, whether you are publicly announcing your sexual orientation or religious preference. Suddenly friends and relations realize they don’t know who you are. They may dismiss you–you are going through a phase. They may isolate you from the bosom of the family like you have a communicable disease. They may tell you that you are going to Hell–strangers will tell you that you are going to Hell!

I’ve never been in the Broom Closet, and absolutely nobody cares if I am Bisexual, so I don’t have a lot of personal experience to share, but I can offer an excerpt from my Work in Stasis. Arrondius, a notorious homophobe, has been Master of the Moblet Brotherhood for seventy or eighty years. Finally facing his mortality, he has picked a warrior-priest to train as his successor. For two years Arron and Raisch have danced around Raisch’s sexual proclivities, even as they have forged a deep bond. Arron, an adrenaline junky, has even become curious about Raisch’s love affairs–if a situation is scary enough, sooner or later Arron will be tempted to try it himself.

In this scene, Arron’s nine year old son has gone missing. Arron believes he has been taken by Raisch’s half-brother, who has designs on the Moblet Brotherhood:

Arron looked with dismay upon the dainty creature who opened the door. Like Chaila had said, it was more delicate than Na’atanus: a slender young man with brown hair glossy and straight to his shoulders, and hazel eyes made huge with stage makeup. His white face paint and red lip paint were smeared. He looked Arron up and down with an arrogance that belied his size. “I need to see Grace Lord Raisch,” Arron said. “I was told I would find him here.”

“Go away!” Raisch bellowed from within.

Arron eased past the young dancer. They were in a pleasure palace just down the street from the theater. Raisch was sitting on a low platform piled high with large cushions. One young dancer was dangling on the priest’s right arm. Much of his red lip paint was imprinted on the right side of Raisch’s face. There was a second young man kneeling behind Raisch with his arms draped over the man’s neck and his lips close to the man’s ear. A third youngster was clinging to Raisch’s left elbow, and Arron could see that the young man at the door must have been kneeling between the priest’s legs. The four were a matched set.

“What the fuck do you want?” Feeling secure on his own turf, Raisch was a belligerent drunk.

“Neta’s missing–”

“I haven’t got him!”

“No, no. . . ,” Arron said, spreading his hands in a placating manner. “I can’t find him. I need your help.”

The fourth dancer closed the door and curled up in Raisch’s lap.

“Please,” Arron said. “Send them away. Neta is in danger. Please.”

“I promised them dinner. We’re expecting food.”

“That’s no problem. The floorman will find them a nice room where they can eat and entertain themselves.”

Raisch embraced the little dancer on his left. “I promised Gem I’d see him safely home.”

Arron could see that the boy was genuinely frightened—like Arron was the baby-fucker! “The floorman will make sure he gets home safely.”

Raisch shook his head. “It’s his first night out. I promised he would be safe.”

“Yes, all right! Send the others away and we’ll make sure that Gem gets home safely. Time is short! I need your help.”

“Shit. . . !” Raisch struggled to his feet. Arron gripped the priest’s huge paw and pulled him up. “Come!” Raisch said gruffly, gesturing to the dancers. “We’ll find the floorman. You will have dinner. I promise.” He pointed an unsteady finger at Gem. “You stay. I’ll get you home.”

Those enormous hazel eyes focused on Arron. The Master growled softly. “Yes, all right, but go wash your face. Stay out of the way!”

Gem scampered off to the water closet and hid there. Raisch ushered the dancers out of the room. Arron tried not to look at the silk and velvet love nest.

Raisch returned carrying two slabs of bread and some meat. He paused when he saw the Master’s face. “It makes you sick, doesn’t it?”

A gossamer scarf lay on the floor. Arron nudged it with the toe of his boot. “Four of them?” he asked, trying to control his disgust.

Raisch stuck out his chest and had to take a step back. “Yes, I was going to fuck them all!”

“Even the little one?”

The priest couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “He came with us willingly. I didn’t force him.”

Arron huffed. The door to the water closet opened part way and a sharp face, lightly tanned, looked out. “Come out of there!” Arron barked. “No one’s going to hurt you!” The boy hurried to Raisch’s side. Raisch was a foot taller that the boy and easily a hundred and seventy pounds heavier. He wrapped his thick hairy arm around the fragile body. Arron said, “How old are you?”

The boy gulped. “Sixteen. . .”

“How old are you really?”

The boy glanced up at Raisch. “Twenty-one–but I’ve never been out before! Everybody says Grace Lord Raisch is generous. Some of the men are rough. They said he’d be gentle with me.”

Arron was a little surprised by his answer. “What’s your name?”"

“Gem.”

“What’s your real name?’

“It’s Gem–now.”

There was a touch of defiance in his voice–even though he was scared. Arron started to thaw. “Go sit down and be quiet.”

Raisch offered Gem some bread and meat, but the young man shook his head. Raisch released him and sat down amid the cushions. “You realize I’m really fucked up?”

“Go wash that paint off your face!”

Raisch gave him a dirty look but staggered up again to the water closet. They heard water splashing in the basin. When Raisch returned, long baby face glistening, he was more alert.

“Eat a little something,” Arron said, sitting down on the floor. “Do your breathing exercises. Alcohol is fuel! Burn it off, sweetheart.”

Raisch sank down again on the platform, closed his eyes and began to breathe from his belly. After a few minutes the high color left his face. “Tell me what happened.”

There were sharp voices in the hall. Bevin called out, “Raisch! Raisch!”

Arron went to the door. Bevin was grappling with the floorman. “It’s all right,” Arron said. “He’s with us.” He tossed a coin to the floorman and stood aside to let Bev pass.

Bev started to spill his guts. “Chaila said come quick! Grace Lord Andom–”

Arron hauled him into the room and closed the door. Bev looked around the room in wonder and then goggled at Gem. Arron prompted, “Chaila sent for me–”

“Grace Lord Andom–he’s left the city. His galley was pulling out of the harbor when we arrived. Chaila is looking for a boat to go after him. She wants you to come quick.”

Raisch shoved his thin russet hair farther back on his high forehead. “Oh, shit!”

Arron would not be rushed. “Did anyone see him board the galley? Was Tenyeta with him?”

“Why else would he leave the city in the middle of the night?”

“Why didn’t Tag call us?”

“He was pretty shaken. Chaila said–”

The Master raised his hand. “I am not leaving Sterling till I know if Neta was on board. Raisch, see if you can reach Tag. Tell him Bevin is here, and we are going to find Neta. Bev, sit over there next to Gem. Gem, this is his lordship’s student Bevin.”

Bevin sized up the dancer. He was not much taller than Gem, but he was a wrestler with wide shoulders and a deep chest. His lip curled, but he threw a cushion into the corner and sat down without any comment.

After a brief mental search, Raisch said, “I found Tag. He’s about to shit a whale. . . ”

“Then, let’s find the boy and put his bowels at rest.”

Raisch closed his eyes and began to breathe again slowly and deeply, but he was truly “fucked up.” In a few short minutes he was sweating profusely. “Channel for me,” he said in a husky voice. He held out his hands, palms together. Arron folded his legs and resumed his place on the floor. He placed his hands around the priest’s, not quite touching him. He began to channel gently.

Raisch closed his eyes and began to search. “I can’t find him,” he said, at last. “Andom knows I’m looking–”

“Don’t look at the ship! Look for Neta. We don’t know that Neta is on the ship!”

“You’re not helping me,” Raisch snapped back. “You’re blocked. You’re supposed to be guiding me.”

“I don’t know anything about this shit! I’m not trained as a priest.”

“There’s a wall between us,” Raisch answered. “It’s not a high wall–not even chest high. It’s low but it’s thick. Boost your ass over it and help me.”

“What the fuck does that mean? Do you need a seer? Get your sorry butt up and let’s find a seer. We’ll wake up Io. We’ll go to the temple and find Grace Lord Jehnna.”

“I’m a seer, damn you! Help me. Do you want to find your son or not?”

“Don’t fucking yell at me! You’re the one who’s pissed to the eyebrows.”

Raisch opened his bloodshot eyes. For once in their relationship Arron was at a loss. He drew back his hands. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“You do know. When you were in the mountains–when Phen died–you spoke to me.”

“You were speaking through Io. She’s a trained seer.”

“You opened your mind and you let her in. Now I’m open. You have to come in. You did it when Sandor took Tersa and Dre. You spoke to him through me. You can do it again.”

Now Arron was starting to sweat. He ran his hand through his short silver hair. “I can’t. I’m sorry; I can’t.”

“Your son—your luscious little bull calf–is out there somewhere hurt or imprisoned, and you broke in here, interrupting my fucking night out and you tell me you can’t?”

“I didn’t have time to think about it.” Now Raisch was wearing the expression of disgust. “I am what I am. I don’t mean it as criticism. I can’t be that open with a man.”

“When we met face to face at the reservoir in Crystal, I threatened to fuck you. You told me there wasn’t any relationship you hadn’t mastered. You fucking lied to me, didn’t you?”

“You stepped back, didn’t you? I would have culled you, if you hadn’t stepped back.”

Raisch shook his befuddled head. “Not strong enough,” he muttered. “I’ll never be strong enough to be Master. I can’t replace you.”

Before Arron could reassure him, Raisch burst out. “You never even kissed a man before you kissed me! You big baby!”

Arron squirmed. “Not in a hundred years. . . There was a boy a long, long time ago, but there was always a woman. We were never alone together.”

Raisch sneered, “Your love was pure.” Arron opened his mouth and then closed it. Raisch pressed the attack. “And what about Tanghry? You got him drunk and lured him into bed with you and Chell-lin. What the fuck was that about?”

“You and Brik were on the beach. . . you don’t know what kind of power you were throwing out.”

“Brik and I drove you queer?”

Arron looked at Bevin, whose jaw was almost resting on his breastbone. He sighed deeply. “What do you want me to do?”

“Sit behind me,” Raisch said, unbuckling his belt. He started to pull his tunic over his head. “Hold me in your arms.”

“I’m not touching your titties,” Arron said in alarm. “I am NOT touching your titties. I am not taking off my clothes!”

“Shut up! Sit down and spread your legs. Hold me the way you did in Delpha–when I was poisoned. Hold me and talk to me.”

“I didn’t think you remembered that. . . how did you know about Tang–?” Raisch growled. “All right! All right!” He stepped up on the platform and stomped among the cushions. With a loud huff he settled down behind Raisch. “Goddess!” he said. “You are a hairy animal!”

Raisch stiffened.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! –But you are one ugly bitch!”

“Go! Get out of here! Take Bev, and go find Io!”

“Wait! Wait!” Desperately Arron looked over his shoulder at Bevin and Gem. Bev’s heart was in his eyes. Gem seemed spellbound–completely unconscious of his own arousal. “Shit! All right! All right! I can do this! I know how to do this. Do you want me to undress?”

“Not if it is going to make you crazy. . .” Raisch had an inspiration. “The Goddess is with us,” he said in a persuasive voice. “She is always with us. Open yourself to Her, let Her mind-fuck me. You can have your threesome.”

Arron glanced once more at Bev. The boy would turn butt up for Raisch in an instant, but once he became Raisch’s student, the big man wouldn’t touch him. Raisch was a predator, but he wasn’t a monster. Arron exhaled explosively. “We can do this. Lean against my shoulder.”

Three times Raisch inhaled deeply and released his tension. He leaned back and Arron wrapped him in a bear hug. Raisch turned deathly white. “Wait! Wait!” he said hoarsely. “Let me go!” He started to struggle. “Stop!”

Arron released him. Raisch doubled over with his head between his knees. “Don’t puke!” Arron begged. “Damn you, don’t puke!”

“Bad thoughts!” the man replied breathlessly. “Really bad thoughts. . .”

“Your father?” Raisch came from a line of monsters.

Raisch nodded vigorously. “Oh, shit! That was bad!” He was shaking.

Arron lightly gripped his shoulders. “Lean back. Listen to my voice. I am not your father.”

Raisch straightened and took several deep breaths like a diver going over the side of a boat. As he started to lean back, Arron leaned forward and gave him a big, wet cow lick on the neck. Raisch burst out laughing and swearing fiercely. “You dog! You son of a bitch!”

Arron cackled. “Good! Relax! Come to Gramps. . .”

“Don’t hurt me!” Raisch blurted out. “–Don’t rush me. . .!”

Arron said gently, “I’m not going to rush you. Lean back in my arms, sweetheart; let a Master seduce you.”

“You old bastard. . .” Again he took three cleansing breaths and relaxed against Arron’s chest.

Arron looked back for a last time at the boys. Bev did not appear to be breathing. Gem had a look of pain on his face.

“I lied,” the Master whispered in Raisch’s ear. “You are beautiful. . .” Raisch jerked away, but the Master held him. He gave voice to Bev’s longing. “You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever met. And it kills me when you walk by and I say nothing.”

For a moment Raisch was annoyed. Arron stroked his biceps. He spoke for Gem. “I was afraid. I couldn’t tell you. It frightens me now. But I trust you. I know you won’t hurt me. Lie back, relax You are safe with me. I am safe with you. I am going to put my arms around you. Here are my hands; take hold. You are in control, sweetheart. Wrap my arms around you like a cloak. My arms belong to you. My strength belongs to you.”

Raisch could not fight the soft voice in his ear. He sighed and let his head roll back on the Master’s shoulder. Their crossed arms lay folded across his hairy chest. Arron kissed him lightly on his corded neck. The priest shuddered with pleasure. Arron began to channel. “Circle,” he whispered. A wall of power rose around them. “Find my son. Find our little brother.”

Wow, the FTC may be monitoring this blog! On Monday 10/5, the Federal Trade Commission announced that its “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials” will cover bloggers. Effective December 1, 2009, bloggers who review a product must disclose any connection with the producer of that product and reveal if they received “compensation” for their review. Reportedly, if the blogger fails to disclose, s/he can be fined up to $11.000.

Now this would be understandable if we were talking about fancy-schmancy Yahoo bloggers, who dispense all manner of advice on exercise, dieting, and improving your lovelife, but it seems to be seriously off the mark when it relates to book review bloggers, and it’s just plain overkill for little folks like me.

The FTC assumes that a book publisher sends an ARC, an Advanced Reading Copy, of a book to me in expectation of a good review. And if I actually keep the ARC after the review, I have been “compensated.” And Goddess forbid that I should provide a link to Amazon or even make a few cents off the purchase of said book as an Amazon affiliate. I must return the ARC to the publisher to be free of guilt. Because–again, Goddess forbid!–I could sell that ARC and make money.

These regulations do not apply to traditional newspaper and magazine reviews because–and I am not making this up–the books/products are sent to the publisher who assigns the book/product to a reviewer. The reviewer is compensated by his publisher. The publisher keeps the book/product. If you have ever seen Andy Rooney’s semi-annual report on all the “goodies” that have been sent to him for review, you know that nationally known reviewers get car loads of unsolicited books every year.

To understand the depth of the FTC ’s delusions, read Edward Champion’s “Interview with the FTC’s Richard Cleland.” Warning: take your Dramamine, because Cleland’s reasoning may make your head spin.

The sentiment among health care advocates in Washington is clear:

Congressman Schock must be moved to vote in favor of health insurance reform.

The vote in the full House is scheduled for October 12th, and this date is rapidly approaching.

In Peoria, we will hold a rally on October 6th and kick-off an action to call Health Insurance Companies as well as Rep. Schock and Senators Durbin and Reid. See more below

As a community, we MUST send a loud and clear message to Schock:

“We, the people, want you to vote for health insurance reform with a strong public option! Are you complicit in insurance company crimes? Or will you finally stand up for your constituents?” ___________________________________________
STATEWIDE DAY OF ACTION: BIG INSURANCE MAKES ME SICK!

PEORIA AREA RALLY AND CALLING ACTIONS

Congressman Schock, Whose Side Are You On?

When: Tuesday, October 6th from 4:30pm – 5:30pm

Purpose: To pressure Congressman Schock to support his constituents, NOT the insurance industry, by voting for a health insurance reform bill with a strong public option!

Bring homemade signs or use ours!
Possible Sign Messages:

1. Big Insurance: SICK OF IT
2. Congressman Schock: Whose side are you on?
3. Support the people! Support the Public Option!
4. Honk for Health Care Reform!

We will also have informative leaflets to distribute-

Come, bring friends and family, and show community support for health care reform!

PLEASE forward this email to all of your contacts, make calls, organize your network.

MORE TO FOLLOW
______________________________________

NEW TWIST TO MAKING A CALL

We are sick and tired of the abuse that we endure because of big insurance wanting to use our lives for big profit.

The week of October 5th, we will start our Calling Campaign to a Health Insurance
Company Executive.

Call #1:

It is time the Big Health Insurance companies starting hearing from you on health insurance reform. We will provide the Executive’s name and phone, plus some sample scripts.

Call #2:

We will provide phone numbers for Rep. Schock and Senators Durbin and Reid. Let them know what you think of your call to the Health Insurance Executive and that they must support people over health insurance company profits. We need a strong public option with health care reform.

Together, we can do it! Let’s make this happen!

For Information: Joyce Harant,Community Organizer, JHarant@cbhconline.org

Campaign for Better Health Care
Helpline
1-888-544-8271
Website: www.cbhconline.org