I blogged last year about the South African Pagan Rights Alliance and its campaign “30 Days of Advocacy Against Witch-hunts.” I DO NOT want to write about it again this year.
I do not want to write about elderly women in Ghana banished to isolated witch-camps.
I DO NOT want to read a report that 60 year old Ugandan
Otemo is just one of the many victims of the escalating mob killings that have rocked Lango sub‐region over accusations of witchcraft. Seven people were killed between July and September, according to Henry Alyanga, the central north regional police spokesman. Police records show the victims were mostly elderly men and women and the suspects were close relatives.
Faced with the oncoming disasters of Peak Oil and climate chaos, I DO NOT want to contemplate the unraveling of civilization in Malawi:
In Malawi, a country of deep poverty and low life-expectancy, one of our clients claimed that disgruntled community members in years past had cursed his village by proclaiming that the rains would disappear. When the rains did not arrive as anticipated, his conclusion was, “How could that be the result of anything but witchcraft?”
In such cases, we tried to explain what we believed were the real causes of misfortunes. Malawi has suffered a series of droughts, so in this case we discussed climate science to explain the lack of rains.
Economically oppressed people who lack political outlets to express their grievances may also turn to leveling accusations of witchcraft. Conflict, internal displacement, the lack of development, and the weight of HIV/AIDS on families have all contributed to the rise of witchcraft accusations in Africa.
I DO NOT want to show you video of five people reportedly accused of witch-craft, beaten, and murdered… (Originally posted on iNewsit.com)
But I have to. Not just for the people in Africa, but for victims of witch-killings in India, in Gaza, in Saudi Arabia, and Haiti and Bolivia, as well.
Last fall Pagans on Facebook came together to protest against the snarky microbrewery Lost Abbey in San Marcos, CA. They were selling a seasonal beer called “Witch’s Wit.” Lost Abbey came up with clever copy for their beer: a witch being burned at the stake and text on the back label:
Whether you’re a wonder healer, a caller of spirits or a lover of black magic, they will find you. And on that day, they will boil your blood, singe your skin and make a point to burn your soul to the ground. From that lonely stake, you’ll be left to contemplate your life of spell casting, obscure texts and a world operated between the shadows of night and day.
Convicted of a dark art, the crowd will gather to watch as they raze your earthen existence. An intolerable pain is the cross you’ll bear that day as you are removed from this righteous world. No one will summon the courage to save you in fear of their life. It sucks. But such is the life of a witch. In honor of your fleeting existence, we brewed Witch’s Wit. A light and refreshing wheat beer, it’s exactly the sort of thing you might expect to find being passed around the center of town on witch burning day. Say hello to the Prince of Darkness for us.
We said “HELL, NO!!! Witch’s Wit has gotta go!” –But that was just a bunch of bubbling fart-holes preening themselves in California. We are talking real life this month. Real fire and real blood, real pain and real injustice. NO, HELL, NO!