A bit ago I began a project to put a fence up on the east side of my back yard because my neighbor’s dog(s) kept getting out and smashing my plants. That side of my yard has a lot of old, dead lilacs that come out like rotten teeth, with a bit of wrenching, leaving a satisfying hole. But the rotten lilacs have been further kicked to the curb by Norway maple saplings. I don’t know if you have Norway maples where you are, but here they are basically the plant world’s version of young punks with their underpants hanging out listening to obnoxious music real loud (and what music is NOT obnoxious if it is loud enough?). One of these trees is trying to remove the power line from my house, for instance. I enjoy lopping them. But they are not the issue. The issue is that Saturnian place–the border–and Saturnian values like definitions and limits.
Lately, I’ve been feeling like my borders with some of the rest of occulture are getting schmutzed up with the grime of Drama Poisoning. I’m talking about out-of-control wackos putting death curses on some twerp for stealing their content, loons attacking the death curse person and seeing conspiracies everywhere, buffoons who set fire to chickens on one side, just plain lying, cheating frauds on the other, and this latest where some eyeliner-wearing jackanapes told someone she should get raped and call his name in the process. Feh.
There will always be nasty, self-dramatizing jackasses, or so I have been telling myself, but lately I have felt very much like I do not want to participate in the world of occulture on account of them. It feels like a pool of piss posing as a bowl of chicken soup. These people have their shops, their lessons, their schools, their titles like Doctor Bullshit Bone or Mambo Insert-Bogus-Name-Here or Whorelock Darker-Than-Thou or the High Grand Mage of Malarkey and Spin. I am starting to feel like I am seeing occulture from the perspective of the Bunko Squad, ya know? These are not honest people. They are, at best, loons, at worst, lying cheats and bullies.
So what to do? Today I got out in the garden and ripped out dead lilacs. It helped. I try to ignore these people, but sometimes I am pulled in by my own anger at what they do and sometimes they drag me into their stupid, overheated world. It’s just getting tiresome. Real tiresome.
So you say, well, go live in a Kaczynski cabin off the grid and have done with it. But I enjoy the internet. Without it, my life would be diminished. I’ve met interesting people here for the past 20 years, had a couple of very enjoyable businesses, learned about all kinds of things, laughed a lot at the innocent antics of humans and, of course, cats. But it also is an opportunity for bullies and frauds to ply their trade, and the occult world is no exception. Maybe it’s just the times. I had to quit reading a large gardening forum a few years ago because every single thread would be hijacked by some cranky teabagger with a gun. The last straw was when we were talking happily about compost and some loose cannon started yapping about how he was going to shoot the census taker if s/he dared to come onto his property. I had been a subscriber to that forum for 11 years and spent plenty of ad money on it, but that was it for me. No more. Life is too short to be rolled around in someone else’s murderous dogshit. CONSTANTLY.
I’m starting to feel the same way about occulture. I made the decision a while ago not to participate in any occult forums or lists because there were just too many ignorant donkeys out there. You know: the Kabbalah was invented in Atlantis, Elijah saw a flying saucer, you can change lead into gold in a pipe bomb, “now that I’m an Ipssissimus, I am looking for new challenges,” “my family trad goes back to the Druids” and other such halfwitlessness. It was a good choice for me. I did not feel so much disdain for my fellow occultist because I was not exposed to so much stupidity. But it seems to be almost inescapable now. And the stupidity is more like the rabid teabagger shit from the gardening forum than the stupid plainly uninformed boasts–death curses for trivial offenses, telling someone to their internet face they should be raped, and so forth. Oh, and the ever popular Jewish reptilian meme.
I don’t know what to do about it. So I’ve been wrenching out rotted logs and lopping Norway maple limbs to redefine and re-emphasize my borders, my beyond which no one has my permission to go. That’s in my yard. On the internet, I have been trying something new for me–what I call Happy Posts. These are things about my garden, cooking, my experiences in magic, just stuff that I hope show another aspect of life, a non-grimey, non-skeevy, non-fraudulent side–a real side of a real person, not someone who is wearing eye makeup or putting death curses on twerps or giving myself a bogus title. Just stuff: the innocent antics of a fellow human. I will try my best to stick to that, although I do slip and say mean and nasty things sometimes. Yep. I sure do. I’m no saint. Not spiritually elevated in any way. Not a mage or a high priest or a grand sorcerer or anything. Just a person and a plain witch doing the best I can, but someone who has limits and who is taking the time now to redefine those limits, to redelineate my borders.
Because I really am a Saturn kind of guy.