Why oh why did I expect better? Because I'm an idiot. For some complete unreason I expected that people would be more civil for knowing each other and perhaps know what they're talking about in a certain area of interest on Fecebook. I mean, why join a group of people out of your league? Wouldn't that make you a pretentious ass? And if you have any sense and realize you're in over your head, wouldn't you keep your mouth shut so you don't show what an ass you are? Unless the inverse is true, in that somehow beginners created this club that adepts liked the sound of and joined, which blew the beginners' minds so completely that they never showed common sense or intelligence again. Howzat for a sentence? :)
What this is really about is that since Michael Lloyd wrote Bull of Heaven there's been this convergence of the peep who were interconnected thru the NYC Pagan scene. This, if anything, is a hint to me that it really could be the End of the World. We all pretty much hated each other at the parting. I mean, we went thru a constant state of high drama for several years together. We thought we knew each other well; men were stolen, people were used and abused, blood was drawn. Now we're older, apparently some peep have lost their memories, and those of us still around after all the thinnings of the herd (Vietnam, drugs, car accidents, AIDS, etc.) proceed with cautious optimism among each other again. These are the people of my twenties and thirties. Some older, some younger. A lot are dead. We have those griefs in common too. And hopefully we've mellowed, gotten past the worst bits of our insanities, grown up. And holy crap the funniest damn stories come to mind, and peep remember parts you don't and you end up laughing ass off.
Thing is, we were Pagans back before it was accepted. When there were books but they were underground and shelved in the back of the bookstore or in the middle of an aisle. (And here I'd like to say thank you to the Strand for the good occult selection at cheaper prices than Herman's.) There was no Disneyesque cloying charm nor Barbie on a broom in those days. And rarely did you wear a pentacle in public. It was way before a pentacle could be seen in a military cemetery. We have all these shared and not so nice experiences but we have a boatload of funny too. There's history.
So along comes a thing called Facebook where everyone just is, to some extent. And these newbie witchlings are putting up pages that look much more sophisticated than their admins are. Some of the old farts get on there and there's this huge generation gap. Different things are being taught than what we learned. They've inherited the art but not the heart. It's kind of like digging a guy only to find out in the morning that he's 17. Not that that's ever happened to me.
And it looks like, for all the specious wisdom we may have accrued, we haven't got it together enough to create our own damn pages for the adepts ourselves. Because we're still screwed by being the generation we are.
Yes, I am an idiot. But I'm not alone.
A Day --an Unresolved Day
1 day ago