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From the liner notes of my 2005 spoken word album, Radio Paganistan: Folktales of the Urban Witches.
Really, one has to wonder just who the speaker is.
Good Samhain, all!
I'll Be Home for Sam Hane
I'll be home for Sam Hane,
you can count on me.
Pumpkins glow on dancing bones
beneath the naked trees.
Hallows Eve will find me
where the hearth-fire's red:
AP: Minneapolis MN
You may have heard that the word “witch” originally meant “wise one,” or “bender [of reality]”, or “waker [of the dead].”
But if Stefano Pozzo, Doctor of Philology at the University of Paganistan is correct, the word derives instead from an Anglo-Saxon adjective meaning “too busy.”
“Students of Old English, the parent language of Modern English spoken more than 1000 years ago, have long suspected the existence of an I-stem adjective wicca” said Pozzo, who pronounces the word WITCH-ah, “but until recently we had no manuscript evidence to prove it. Newly-available palimpsest studies, however, make it clear, not only that the word existed, but that its original meaning, as we had long suspected, was 'too busy.'”
Surviving Old English texts, he explained, were largely written on parchment, which at the time was a valuable resource, far too valuable simply to throw away. It was common practice to reuse old parchment by scraping off the original ink and writing a new text on the erased surface.
Pozzo noted that new computer technology has now made it possible to read erased texts, known as palimpsests, which had heretofore been inaccessible to scholars.
In a recent article, Hebrew University's Dr. Tzemakh Posner amplifies Pozzo's contention.
Witches are popular with cartoonists. Of the thousands of witch cartoons that I've seen over the years, one stands out in particular.
Rainbow. At one end, a big black pot of gold. At the other, a witch, hands raised, looks on with delight and surprise.
Witch runs over to pot.
Witch dumps out gold.
Rainbow. At one end, a pile of gold, laying on the ground. At the other, the witch happily stirs her new cauldron.
In what has been called the Glorious Autumn of '79, author-priestess Margot Adler (1946-2014) set out on a coast-to-coast tour promoting her newly-released book, the instant classic Drawing Down the Moon.
On November 13, she was scheduled to speak in an occult bookstore in one of the two small cities that span the Red River on the Minnesota-North Dakota border.
As she arrived at the bookstore, she was met on the sidewalk by a group of irate fundie protestors. One angry nazz threw a stone that struck Adler in the forehead, wounding her superficially.
Nothing daunted, Adler, blood streaming down her face, turned towards the crowd and raised her arms. The chanting Christians immediately fell silent.
A Modest Proposal
Face it, folks: there's strength in numbers. We need a term that includes us all.
Once “pagan” was our prime term of art, but since (like fractious adolescents) we tend to define ourselves by rebelling against what we're not, that simply doesn't work anymore.
So here's my suggestion.
I think that we need to take a page from the GLBTQI+ playbook.
(Interestingly, both “gay” and “queer,” originally intended as terms of inclusion, have since come to be used exclusively instead. Hai mai, it's nice to know that you're not alone in the world.)
We need to come up with a long, unwieldy, mysterious string of capital letters that's constantly bloating into a longer, more unwieldy, and ever more mysterious string of capital letters that never quite manages to resolve into a pronounceable acronym.
Of course, since—for all our egocentricity—we tend to have fragile egos, we need to be as inclusive as possible when we do this.
Let's see: Witch-Warlock-Wiccan-Pagan-Heathen-Druid-Reconstructionist-Polytheist....
This hymn to a previously-unknown goddess was discovered among a trove of Linear B tablets unearthed at Phaistos, Crete, in 2017.
It is believed to have formed part of the goddess's cultic liturgy celebrating the autumn grape harvest.
Hail to Retsina
(Tune: Roll Out the Barrel)
Hail to Retsina,
goddess of vino with pine.
Hail to Retsina,
fruit of the tree and the vine.
The king of a certain ecotopian kingdom once built himself a magnificent, state-of-the-art straw-bale palace.
Visitors from all over the world flocked to see the king and his masterpiece of eco-sensitive, sustainable architecture. As was the custom at the time, each foreign dignitary presented the king with the gift of a new throne, beautifully-wrought in the most precious materials.
Now, a king needs only so many thrones, so he stored the unused ones in the attic of the palace. In time, the weight of the accumulated thrones outbore the carrying capacity of the palace's straw-bale construction.
One day, while the king was holding court, the building collapsed, and the king and his entire entourage were killed.
Moral:
