Harvester of Drama

August 3, 2009

So last Saturday was Lughnasadh, the pagan summer harvest sabbat.  And Avonia the Wiccan Pimp doesn’t seem too pleased about how it went.

“It’s becoming a nightmare with these celebrations,” Avonia sighs.  “The coven constantly fights over who does what reading, when do we do the drumming, who’s responsible for what fruits that we adorn the altar with.  It’s a damn miracle we even get the thing off.”

Hmm… Wiccan drama.  Not quite as a potent as gay drama, but it’s still something that could be holding back Wicca and paganism in general from breaking out of their perceived niche positions in the American landscape of religion.

“Shouldn’t the Head Witch in Charge be taking command of these coven disputes?” I say.

“There really is no Head Witch in Charge,” says Avonia.  “It’s pretty much whoever bitches the most wins.  Wicca’s not known for its hierarchical command structure.  There’s coven leaders, but there’s not a lot of force behind that title.  Half the time you can be coven leader just because you have a big enough backyard to hold these celebrations.”

“She who owns the altar makes the rules,” I say. “You need some sort of authority.  Islam wouldn’t stand for this type of bullshit.”

“Yes, well Islam doesn’t really have the best record when it comes to female autonomy,” says Avonia.

“Few religions do,” I say. “So did you do any Tailltean marriages for Lughnasadh?”

Tailltean Marriages, according to the ChaliceCenter.net, involved the young men and women in the town to line up “on either side of a wooden gate in a high wall, in which a hole was carved, large enough for a hand.”  Each young man and woman came up to the door and “would grasp a hand in the hole, without being able to see who was on the other side.”  And through the magic of something, they were now married for a trial period of a year and a day.  If it worked out, they stayed together.  If it didn’t, they “returned to next year’s gathering and officially separated by standing back to back and walking away from each other.”

“Um, no, we don’t do that,” says Avonia.  “We don’t have enough people for it, and we don’t have a giant wall or a door with a hand-sized hole.”

“Maybe you should,” I say.  “Hell, make a reality TV show about it.  Call it the Wiccan Wall of Marriage.  You’ll never run out of women for the show, not with the societal pressures on them to marry.  And I’m sure there’s plenty of lonely guys who will think marrying a girl unseen from behind a wall is a better plan than what they’re currently doing.  It’s gotta be better than Internet dating.  Well, just as long as no one sticks their dick through that Hole of Matrimony.”

“I don’t want my faith to be connected to a exploitative reality game show on television,” says Avonia.  “That’s not the best way to raise awareness of the wonders of Wicca.”

“No, but it’s a start,” I say.  “And the drama from the reality show will obscure the drama from intercoven bickering.  It’s a win-win situation.”

As much as Avonia hates intercoven bickering, she hates reality TV more.  And my suggestion that we could get Chuck Woolery to host the Wiccan Wall of Marriage didn’t sway her either.  Maybe I should have suggested Wink Martindale.  He’s still alive.

avonia smallnote




  1. chuck woolery had better hair…

    i’d rather grab a dick through the hole. but i’m funny that way.

  2. The first time I heard the expression “herding cats” it was applied to Pagans. Nuff said.

  3. That’s why I’m a solitary witch.

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