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Wiccan Without You

April 6, 2010

It was bound to happen sooner or later, but Avonia the Wiccan Pimp has finally gotten tired of all the drama in her coven and left the circle.

“And so it was that the joy I found in celebrating my faith was overpowered by the annoyance of having to deal with the assholes involved in said celebration,” says Avonia.  “It’s amazing how a few emotionally-stunted control freaks can ruin something that had once been so beautiful.”

So now Avonia is a freelancing Wiccan, or a free-range Wiccan, or an independent contractor of Wicca (I don’t know, I’m an atheist, we don’t have this problem).  Furthermore, Avonia’s departure prompted a whole slew of other people leaving, ending in the dissolution of the group.

“I think by the end the only thing keeping the coven together was a mutual hatred of each other,”  says Avonia.  “It was like a Wiccan game of chicken where we all secretly vowed to stay in the coven in defiance of the others we couldn’t stand.  And I was the first to blink.”

Any by “blink”, Avonia means “backhanded a fool across the mouth.”

“I had lunch the other day with a high school friend who’s in the FireRing Coven that’s a 45-minute drive from ours,” says Avonia.  “And the next thing I know Elspeth’s accusing me of being a mole for FireRing and trying to lure away people from our coven to join theirs.  For the love of the Goddess, I was having tapas, not plotting a devious betrayal.  Anyway, Elspeth got in my face about it, violated my personal space, and regretably I had to regulate.”

I’d like to think Avonia would have beaten this Elspeth woman with her own shoe, if she were wearing shoes at the time, which she likely wasn’t because that’s not how Wiccans operate.  Maybe she could have hit her with her own tribal drum.  Eh, that’s not as pimpishly cool. 

“So how do you celebrate the sabbats of the year without a coven?”  I say.  “Wouldn’t it be sort of weird and sad to do all that drumming and dancing by yourself in your house?” 

“I still have my husband Arawn,”  says Avonia.  “But yes, I will miss the energy from others around me.”

“Maybe you could use stuffed animals as surrogate covenmates,”  I say.  “Sort of like when I was kid and I used to line up all my stuffed animals and put on plays for them, or play Nuremberg because Winnie the Pooh had been a commander at Dachau.”

“I don’t think my mint condition collection of My Little Pony figures would be a suitable subtitute for a coven of like-minded wiccans trying to achieve a spirtual bond to nature,” says Avonia.

“Yeah, and it would make the wife-swapping at Beltane a lot more awkward,”  I say. 

“It’s always about Beltane and wife-swapping with you,”  says Avonia.  “What is that?  There are other sabbats, ya know.”

“Oh, come on, you can’t have a celebration that includes wife-swapping and expect me to ignore it,”  I say.  “That’s like making me watch a Michael Bay movie and expecting me to ignore the explosions.”

 So Avonia and Arawn are going to go covenless for awhile, or at least until they forget how drama-saturated covens can be and decide to join a new one to fully celebrate their Wiccan faith and become annoyed with a new batch of people.  And I will be performing in my kitchen a rendition of Samuel Beckett’s Endgame with a one-eyed Care Bear and an old Teddy Ruxpin with a missing lower jaw. 

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4 comments

  1. except for “backhanded a fool across the mouth”, this description of a coven is exactly why i left my local community theater group. only difference? they don’t need holidays for wife swapping…


  2. That sounds like the most depressing performance ever. Poor Pooh-bear. DOWN WITH RUXPIN!


  3. This is exactly why I’ve been happily without a coven for more than ten years now. That and so when I show up to major Pagan festivals I don’t have a reputation to precede me.


  4. A one-eyed Care Bear? How adorable….



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