Mind Your Own

To all the fundamentalists, republicans, democrats, conservatives, liberals and everyone else who's opinions are quotations. Fuck off.

That's right. Pretty much if you identify yourself as part of any political or philosophical group other than people who think before they form opinions, fuck you.

There are lots of reasons for this, but the really really big one is that freedom isn't conditional or limited. If you think people should have the right to own guns but not to marry anyone they want, you're a human piece of shit.

If you support marriage equality but you think only the government can be trusted with guns, then you're a witless sheep, and I have even less respect for you.

People say the world isn't black and white, that things are more "complicated" than that. No they're not dammit. You people make shit complicated because you're either mean or stupid; usually both.

You know what my political ideology is? It's mind your own fucking business. If you don't like how someone else lives their life, DON'T TALK TO THEM! Just shut up and keep your own counsel. My rights end where yours begin, and vice versa. Drunk driving, littering, and shooting people are crimes. Getting drunk and high, destroying your own house, or even shooting yourself, shouldn't be. No one has a right to protect you from yourself, you get to do ANYTHING YOU WANT as long as it does not directly prevent anyone else from doing anything they want. You want to build a house without a permit, do the wiring wrong and blow yourself up in your sleep? Fine, but you're liable for damage to your neighbour's property. Until your actions are immediately harmful to someone who isn't you, what you do is your problem.

That's my philosophy. It's also the ONLY philosophy, EVER that it's okay to force on other people. That's right, I'm forcing you to do whatever you decide to do, and if you try to force me to do something, I will fuck you up. Sound fair? Good.

Poison the Trolls

"Ignore them and they'll go away."
"They just want attention."
"Don't feed the trolls."
"If you pay attention to them, they win."

Horse shit.

This is the kind of thing people say, this is the advice they give their children. You know who believes this crap? People who have never actually BEEN bullied.

Silence is permission. How's that for an expression?

Every time some asshole makes a derogatory comment and you say nothing, you ignore them, they get away with it. You're giving them permission, and you're becoming an accomplice to every time they hurt someone in the future.

You, yes, YOU, reading this right now, are personally guilty for the pain of every person you didn't stand up for, and for the next victim every time you let someone get away with being nasty to you.

When someone gets bullied, and you tell them "Just let it go, ignore them and they'll stop, they only want your attention." You might as well be the bully, because you're taking his side. That's what they want, to hurt people and get away with it.

This can only continue, because people look the other way, because they keep getting away with it. It stops when the bullies become pariahs. It stops, when they stop getting away with it, when hurting other people actually gets punished. It stops, when someone starts shit, and suddenly the entire world turns on them.

So stop letting them get away with it, dammit.

Slightly Mad

So I'm going to talk a little about mental illness. I'm not really sure why. A little because I just need to, and a little because no one else does. Also maybe a little because I'm crazy and I don't need a reason, so there.

This is something that really happens, I guarantee you know a few people who deal with these problems. In fact, if you're reading this, I could probably name them for you. They put up a brave front, on any given day, you'd probably never know. Depression, social anxiety disorder, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, psychosis. Behind the scenes, some of your friends are struggling every day with demons I hope you never face.

No one talks about it. It's a taboo subject, no one wants to look it in the eye, to admit that it happens, even when they're the ones suffering through it. Well, I'm talking.

From one day, one hour, to the next, I never know how I'm going to be feeling. Most of the time I act the part of the stable productive member of society fairly convincingly, but I'm sure the more time you spend around me, the more the mask starts to slip. I know every now and then my closest friends will ask "are you alright?" I always tell them I'm fine, or there's nothing in particular wrong. One of my favorite expressions, "It's been a day." Not a good day, not a bad day, just a day.

The answer is no, I'm very rarely alright, but I manage.

Sometimes my mind goes away a little, and what I really want is to spend an hour watching how leaves move in the wind, or watching water drip off a roof. It took a lot of work today to make it to my job on time and not get sidetracked watching the rain. Sometimes when that happens I even do things without really knowing why I did them. Sometimes I wander a circle around the house and then go sit back down and do nothing again. I know I'm doing it, I just don't really know why.

Sometimes I can't handle people, loud noises, enclosed spaces. Sometimes I have to escape. I don't know what I'm escaping, I just have to go somewhere for a while. Some people have midnight snacks, I have midnight walks until I don't know where I am and have to figure out which way home is.

Sometimes people is what I need. Sometimes a gathering of friends is the only thing that drowns out all the noise in my head. It's crowded in here. Sometimes I throw myself into the conversation, usually with some dumb joke or another. Sometimes, I just listen.

Sometimes every bad things that ever happened, every mistake I ever made, everything bad that ever could happen, and especially the things that are inevitable, come and demand I pay attention to them all at the same time, until all I can manage is to sit and stare at the computer and pretend I'm not falling apart.

Sometimes I just want someone to ask if I'm okay, and not take yes for an answer.

Other times I go two days without sleep and write nonsense about how I'm feeling at seven o'clock in the morning.

I live for the good days. There are good days. Sometimes it's just good hours, but when it's good it's very good. Worth it even. I guess that's what it's all about.

 The point. Yes, I had a point when I started this. The point is, it's frustrating, even frightening, when your own mind is the enemy. When you're problems are work, or family, or bills, you have something external to struggle against. Being betrayed by your physical health is a lot harder to live with. But what do you do when you're so depressed you can't even gather up the will to want to get better?

To those who have to live with us. I want you to know it's not your fault. But it's not our fault either, so on the bad days, please be patient. I want to thank those of you who stand by one of us when you could walk away.

To all you other crazy people. I want you to you know you're not alone. I want you to know it's okay to talk about it, and it's okay to ask when you need help. I am going to post this publicly, because the stigma needs to stop, and I'm okay with standing up to speak in front of the crowd if it helps someone else speak in front of those closest to them.

Good luck,
And may you find what you seek.
-Katharine

Hecate Shrine

Hello my freaky darlings.

I'll give you a cookie if you're nerd enough to place that quote. In the mean time I'm going to attempt to write something informative. Wish me luck.

I keep a shrine to Hecate in my bedroom, which, since I honor her in all my rituals, also serves as my altar most of the time. I'd love to have one outdoors at a crossroads, but neither do I have a crossroads where it wouldn't be a vandal magnet, nor do I have the money for stone statuary.

So I do what I can with what I have, and here's picture.

There are a few items I'd still like to add. Most notably an actual statue of Hecate, and (in terms of using it as an altar) a proper chalice. This is what I have to work with at the moment. The informative part will be explaining the meaning of each piece.

You will notice the small picture attached to the wall, a painting of Hecate I acquired, in lieu of a statue I can't afford right now.

The back and center of the shrine is dedicated to a mirror. Mirrors serve as gateways between realms and are useful for spirit communication, astral travel, and scrying, all arts within the purview of Hecate.

The corners of the shrine hold representatives of the four elements. Hecate is the goddess of that which is outside of normal social order, patron of the outcast, and we are bringing old traditions into a new world, so I use very non-traditional elements. The small box in the back right corner contains graveyard earth. The right front is a lighter, for fire obviously. The left front is an all natural perfume made by a pagan crafter to represent Hecate, for air. In the left rear is a bottle of everclear, aqua vitae, for water; which has been used only to bless ritual tools.

Two black taper candles represent knowledge and wisdom, or truth and understanding, depending on your interpretation. They stand in for the two torches which Hecate herself often wields.

The quartz orb to the left of the mirror is a powerful multipurpose tool. Quartz can be charged for nearly any intention. I use this one as an aid to spirit communication and channeling.

The opposite side, a marble orb, holds the power of grounding and emotional balance, and is helpful for grounding at the end of particularly intensive work. It bears an interesting story. A friend of mine (who may name himself if he likes) saw it while doing a reading for me and said it was important, asked me to tell him when I found it. Another friend immediately went and retrieved it from his car, a stranger dressed as a gypsy had approached him in a grocery store park and given it to him with no explanation, after which she apparently disappeared from an empty parking lot.

The skull, yes I'm sure you've all been wondering about that one. I'm not an expert on comparative anatomy, but I'm told it came from a young coyote, died of natural causes in Wisconsin. I have two of them. Canines are first among the sacred animals of Hecate, so I honor them on her shrine, and given my focus as her priestess on necromancy and restless spirits, there is an elegance to displaying a skull this way.

Left and forward of the skull is a Garlic bulb, one of the plants sacred to Hecate. Garlic is powerful plant for psychic protection, and commonly used (largely due to its ubiquitous nature and edibility whereas most of her sacred plants are medicinal/poisonous) in offerings.

Opposite the Garlic is a Tibetan singing bowl. As far as I can ascertain this one of the original singing bowls, imported from Tibet and made centuries ago using metallurgical methods which have since been lost to time. Fortunately for those of us who seek such items, they have also been well cared for ever since.

To the left and center of the altar is one of my wands. This is a necromancer's wand, made of solid iron. It is used first and foremost to compel and banish the spirits of the dead. Blessed by Hecate, Hermes, Hades, and Persephone, a psychopomp (guide to the souls of the dead), a grave warden (guardian spirit of a cemetery), and six earthbound spirits; consecrated in the five elements, as well as with my own blood and in a ritual bonfire. By far the most powerful tool I possess.

Center right, is my athame. As I write this, a recent acquisition, a gift from dear friends, the last of many sold at an event in which I participated. The handle is bone, yes, black bone. I'm not certain if it's been dyed, or perhaps is bull horn. The athame is traditionally a double edged blade with a black handle, used to direct and channel energy such as in the casting a ritual circle. It is also especially useful in undoing what has been done, in the cutting of psychic bonds and breaking of previous spells.

So there you have it. Hope some little bit of information here has been helpful to someone.

On Faith, Skepticism, and Stupidity

Blind faith and militant skepticism are on opposite ends of a spectrum of dumbass.

There, I said it. In fact, take a minute and think about what you believe to be the nature of reality, the origin of life, all that. Odds are, you're a moron.

Now, let me explain why you're probably a moron. Like I said, blind faith and militant skepticism are the extreme ends of a very broad spectrum. Every intelligent human being falls into a narrow area in the exact middle of this spectrum.

Faith is believing something without proof. A little faith is good, necessary, in fact, to being a functional human being. Skepticism is to seek evidence and not believe without though. Again, skepticism is necessary in small amounts.

Blind faith is belief in something in spite of evidence to the contrary. Militant skepticism is denial of that which has not been proven "conclusively". Either way, you're an imbecile.

I am inclined to find both unspeakably tiresome. I often find myself being told to believe something, and it is difficult for me to think less of anyone than I do of the person who when I ask why I should believe cannot form an intelligent answer.

Unless it's to think less of the one who criticizes me for what I believe.

Here, let me make this simple for you. I believe in myself and my experiences. Sensory input, and the reasoning by which we interpret it, is notoriously unreliable. However, I pride myself on many years of sharpening by deductive powers, and as I see it, to doubt what the eyes see and the ears hear is the path to madness. If I should doubt what I hear because you did not hear it, then why should I have faith that you are even truly speaking? Perhaps I am delusional. Perhaps the skeptic is part of my delusion, and that which he doubts is the truth which the delusion wishes me not to see.

I trust in abilities which have proved consistent in the past, and in sources of information which show themselves to be reliable and consistent, even if no one else is aware of them. If a thousand times a voice in my head tells me something, and a thousand times it proves correct, I am going to listen to it, regardless of my capacity to explain its nature. That is appropriate use of faith and skepticism. The same use by which you doubt the word of a complete stranger and trust the word of a friend.

On "Being Outed"

In case you have been under a rock since the early 80's, "outing" in this sense is the revealing of an individual as a member of the LGBT community. It may also refer to any orientation or lifestyle which was previously secret, such as one's religious affiliations.

"Coming out" is announcing to the world that you are, whatever you are. "Being outed", is when someone else does it to you, and of course the dreaded "outing yourself" is accidentally letting it slip.

I feel like we (the transgender community) need a new word.

Now and then I hear expressions such as "I outed myself" from people who are transgender, who are living full time as their true gender identity; in reference to revealing that they are transgender and haven't always presented as their current (true) gender identity. I feel this is flawed logic and poor language reinforcing a negative concept in our minds and in the collective understanding of society.

When a gay man is "in the closet", he's living a lie, he's not being true to himself in all parts of his life. He's at best sneaking around and living a double life, and at worst denying himself, to himself. Being in the closet is bad, it's unhealthy, one might argue that it's inherently unethical because it's at least a lie of omission. You know me, I give two hoots about ethics, but it could be argued.

When our theoretical gay man (let's call him Fred, I'm not going to mention him by name ever again, but I feel like calling him Fred) comes out, he's being honest for the first time. He's telling the truth, BEING the truth. This is good. He might get some crap for it, but you can only lie to yourself for so long before you lose the truth, and then your next big accomplishment in life is dying.

He can't ever be "outed" again, he's already out, he's being his real self. There's no lie.

When a trans person (for the sake of my tortured brain and pronouns we're gonna say a transwoman), when she comes out, it means she's now living full time as a female. There's no more lie, she's being her real self. Before she "came out" she was living as a man, pretending to be a man, lying about her gender identity. Just like the gay man. She's out now, she can't be outed again, just like Fred (so I lied, I used his name again).

But, let's say this woman "passes" perfectly. Most of the time, no one ever knows she's trans. When something slips and someone finds out, we say she's been "outed". She hasn't been outed. That would imply that she's being dishonest. Female is her real self. Saying that a transperson has been "outed" when someone finds out they are trans suggests that she's a man living as a woman and that the lie started when she transitioned. This of course is profoundly wrong, and we get extremely offended when someone states it outright. Yet here we are implying it ourselves by continuing to use the term "outed".

Saying that a transwoman outed herself when someone found out she wasn't born a woman is like saying a gay man outed himself when someone finds out he used to have sex with women. Coming out is telling the truth. Letting someone find out you used to lie needs to have another word. Let's find one. Or better yet, don't use a word for it, there isn't a word for the gay man who accidentally mentions his ex-wife, why do we need one?

"Passing" for your gender of identity is important. Not letting anyone know you're trans (and getting the subsequent and rather flattering "Wow! I never would have known, you're gorgeous!") is only important because some bigoted morons might treat you differently. By reacting to it and calling it being "outed" we are validating their unenlightened opinions and giving power to their responses. We need not to care what they think, and to steer society toward a collective feeling that their position makes them lesser people.

The first step, is deleting the subconscious impression of the term "outed" that a transperson is inherently dishonest because they are trans.

An Open Letter to Stupid People

Dear Stupid People,

Stop. Just... stop. No more of these things you do.

Quit vomiting up opinions because someone else gave them to you. Stop asking questions without at least thirty seven seconds of actively attempting to arrive at answers on your own.

There is less shame in acting more slowly than me because you're thinking about the consequences of your actions than there is in facing a lifetime of ridicule from me for doing something moronic.

Never forget, you are stupid. Yes, you should be ashamed of it, how else can you improve? Your job now is to acknowledge your stupidity, do your best to think occasionally anyway, and stay the fuck away from me.

Should you choose to continue bothering me, please understand that I have no problem whatsoever with illustrating your stupidity to you in excruciating detail, preferably with the largest of possible audiences. The next person who enters the store in which I work and asks me the name of the store may actually sustain minor contusions. Please especially avoid that one.

I will not pretend to be stupid just to balm your rightfully diminutive self esteem. It isn't going to happen. I realize that in the land of the blind the one eyed man is a heretic. I just don't care. You are not smart enough for your opinions to be valid. I consider the feelings of my vegetables, but this is because they actually serve a purpose. You have to earn that.

Thank you in advance, stupid people. Your cooperation is appreciated.

Yours sarcastically,
Katharine

P.S. If you feel like this is directed at you, why do you consider yourself stupid? If it takes you more than seven seconds to answer that... then it probably is.

P.P.S. Bite me.