Season of the Witch...

365 years ago today, 23 women from Essex stood trial at the Chelmsford Assizes for the crime of witchcraft. All 23 were convicted and sentenced to death by hanging. Each of them had been arrested by the self-styled 'Witch-finder General' Matthew Hopkins, who was one of the most horrifying people ever to walk the face of the earth, and who is believed to have sent more people to the gallows during his short reign of terror than had been hanged as witches in the previous century. Working throughout the English Civil War, when the poplace was already stirred up, nervy and living on a knife edge, Hopkins exploited the ignorance, superstition and religious fervour of the people of that time and sent approximately 300 innocent men and women to their deaths. Just think about that number for a few moments, would you? Three hundred people, all innocent, who paid with their lives thanks to a mixture of fear, superstition, ignorance and sheer spite. There are many, many things that Britain can be proud of throughout its long and gloried history, but there are equally as many dark and terrible deeds and the 'witch trials', sadly (and not exclusive to this country by a long shot), is one of them.

I'm not going to sully my blog with any more talk of Hopkins; he makes me feel nauseous as it is and besides, you can go and google him if you want to find out more. No, my sympathies - and my interest - lie firmly with the men and women who were tried and executed for this supposed 'crime'. And it's not just because of my pagan beliefs; all of the people who were killed in those days were, like everyone else, Christian, but when you read the testimonies it's just heartbreaking. This is taken from the evidence of Anne Leech, one of the 'Manningtree witches' whose trial ended 345 years ago today...

"And this Examinant also confesseth, that she sent her gray Imp to Elizabeth, the daughter of Robert Kirk of Mannyntree, about three yeers since, to destroy her; and upon the sending of the said Imp, the said Elizabeth languished by the space of one whole yeer, untill shee dyed, and that the occasion of offence this Examinant took against her the said Elizabeth was, for that she had asked a Coife of the said Elizabeth, which shee refused to give to this Examinant. And further, this Examinant saith, that long since, but the exact time she cannot remember, she sent her gray Imp to kill the daughter of the widow Rawlyns of Misley aforesaid; and the reason was, because this Examinant was put out of her Farm, and the said widow Rawlyns put in, where shee dwelleth at this present..." - from www.witchtrials.co.uk

Bear in mind that Anne, like so many others, had been locked up in a cell, given very little food, deprived of sleep for 2 or 3 days, subjected to personal and intrusive 'tests' and cut with a blunt knife, which were just some of the methods used by Hopkins to extract his 'confessions'. Having been subjected to these ordeals, I think I'd probably confess to consorting with the Devil as well...

There are no exact figures for the number of men, women and even children who were murdered throughout the so-called 'witchcraze', but every single one of them was guilty of nothing more than being old, or disabled, or different, or had done something to cause another person to hold a grudge against them. They had not consorted with the Devil, or conjured imps and demons to mischief and maim others. They were innocent human beings, and it's high time that they and their reputations were reclaimed from the stigma currently associated with them.

And, of course, it is also important to realise that the practice of executing people for witchcraft hasn't vanished into the mists of time. In some countries, especially in Africa, chidren in particular are ostracised, tortured and murdered for being witches even as you read this. I can freely and proudly stand up and proclaim that I am a Pagan, a witch, like many other people throughout the world. This statement makes some people look at me a bit strangely, but I am not in fear of my life wen I make it. And yet in some countries, if I was branded with this label by a neighbour or family member, I would be dead. We like to think that the horrors of the past - the witch trials, torture, plague, religious oppression, the oppression of women and other things - remain in the past. They do not.

Remember Anne Leech and the other men and women falsely accused as witches and murdered. But remember, too, that the false accusations and murders continue to this day. Nothing can bring back the dead now, but only when we have fully conquered the darkness at the heart of humanity can we truly claim to have finally left the Dark Ages behind us...

It's time to reclaim the word 'witch'. It's time to the let the innocent rest in peace...

The first rule of Book Club...

I love books. No, I mean I actually love them. My books are my friends, and they have been ever since I was a child and my parents read stories to me; once I started reading by myself, I developed a voracious appetite for all things literary. I've read the great classics of literature, I've read light and fluffy chick-lit and (thanks to my somewhat disturbing fascination with criminal and abnormal psychology) I've read many gruesome serial killer books. My bookshelves groan under the weight of cookbooks, poetry books and magical encyclopedias; I worship Neil Gaiman, JRR Tolkien and Sylvia Plath (among many others) as my own personal pantheon of deities, and if you want a book about any subject at all, come and see me - I'll probably have something in stock. You name it, I'll read it.

I mean it; I'll try almost any book once. The only things I tend to steer away from these days are the 'real life' trauma books (you know, the ones with titles like 'The Girl Whose Father Whipped Her Daily With Linguine' - I don't mean to be flippant here but you know the ones I mean); Mills and Boon; Catherine Cookson and her ilk; and anything that has been written and published because it's 'like Twilight'. And I paid money for all 4 of those bloody Twilight books and read every single one, vainly hoping they'd get better. That's both money and nanoseconds of my life that I'll never get back again. Ah well...c'est la vie. And since I joined my book club at the end of last year, I've read things that I'd never have even considered before. Some of them have been fabulous and I have completely adored them, others I've hated, but new books means new worlds to discover and new friends to encounter.

I write this having come back from my monthly book club meet. We occasionally talk about the books, too...no, seriously, we do discuss them; it may not be very scientific or literary, but they are definitely talked about. This one was 'Papillon'; I'd seen bits of the film but had no idea it was a book. And not just a book, a true story! Just...wow. It was amazing; it took a while to get going, almost as if Papillon had to find his 'voice' as an author, but when he did it was just intoxicating. You can see it all so clearly - the camps, the prisoners, the escapes...it was amazing, and I would never have read it if it wasn't on our list. Next up is 'Lolita', which I picked - I've started it so many times but never finished it because I kept getting sidetracked, but Book Club disciplines me to actually finish them even if I hate them. Oh, with the exception of 'The Fraction of the Whole', which I hated beyond belief and so did everyone else - none of us finished that one! So now I will finally finish 'Lolita' and will have expanded my horizons yet further, and at least made some new acquaintances even if we don't become friends.

And that's the weird thing about books. They really do become your friends, and some of the friendships that I made in childhood endure to this day. I wasn't even five when I first met Fancy Nancy, Heidi, Ramona Quimby and Katy Carr (and became almost hysterical with delight when presented with a copy of 'What Katy Did' because I thought it was about me); over the years, I may have got older and more widely read, but there is still a very special place in my heart for these friends from my childhood. Others have come to join them over the years and our little circle of friendship has widened, but I've never lost the desire to get to know more of them and to keep reading. Goddess help me if they ever make it illegal...I'll end up forming a Resistance movement or something...

New hobby...

I know it's been a few days since I last wrote, but my mobile broadband has been playing up. Typical, eh? Still, being away from the lure of the laptop has allowed me to actually get out of an evening...shock horror. And not only did I get out on Saturday night, I ended up doing something totally out of my comfort zone...it's that year of living dangerously again! And this is dangerous. This is roller derby.



I suppose I should probably clarify something for the incredulous. I haven't actually signed up to take part as a derby girl, although one of my friends has and the members of the Seaside Sirens, our local team, are seriously awesome ladies. Nope, I've decided my talents lie elsewhere, and so when the Sirens start officially bouting, I'm going to be there as a fearleader. And if I can take my inspiration or be anywhere near as awesome as the fabulous LA Derby Dolls, I will die happy...these girls are seriously sexy and utterly fab!

Bring on the bouts!! I will shake my pom poms and get to work...

If Music Be The Food Of Love...Part 1

...then I clearly pigged out at the buffet. One look at my music collection clearly indicates that my love of music is as eclectic as my love of clothes - some days full-on Goth, some days a hippy-chick or a skinny indie kid, and others an inmate of a Victorian Asylum for Wayward Girls. The reason for this post is because I just entered the 'Face The Music' contest at the British Music Experience website - I got 64/64 and won a prize, plus entry into the prize draw to win mega prizes (I'm crossing my fingers for the Vintage Goodward day - old clothes and old cars are my idea of heaven!) A lot of the artists they had cartooned for the competition were ones that I had grown up listening to and had really liked over the years; still do, in a lot of cases, for I'm as loyal to my favourite albums and artists as I am the new ones, which is why Iron Maiden and Black Sabbath sit happily alongside Nightwish and Apocalyptica on my shelf. I also have no problem mixing genres (well, a lot of dance music or rap irritates me beyond belief, but that's about it), which is why Kylie and Nirvana, Muse and Inkubus Sukkubus, Emilie Autumn and Garbage all rub along nicely together.

I have a big thing about women in music, though; I would say that at least half of my stuff is either female solo artists or female-fronted bands. And I'm not trying to make some big political feminist statement or anything here; a lot of the bands or artists that I love just happen to be women. I still freak out over male artists/bands just as much as anyone else does, and if you were to look at the men in music that I've lusted after over the years...well, let's just say we don't have the time to list them. But as I've got older and my tastes have expanded (musically I mean, not just hormonally, although that's probably improved somewhat), I still have a lot of affection for some of the stuff I grew up with...

It started with Kylie. I was five, she was still Charlene from Neighbours, and I was besotted with her. I wanted to be Kylie; she was so pretty and had such amazing hair and clothes...look, I was five, ok! Before that, all I'd really listened to was the Elvis my dad played and my mum's eclectic taste (classical music, Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath and Duran Duran). But Kylie...she was all mine and I worshipped her. With Kylie, naturally, came Jason Donovan; it was officially love. Shortly after, I discovered (in rapid succession) Bros, New Kids on the Block, East 17, Boyzone and the Backstreet Boys...yes, I was a pop princess and proud of it! I even liked the Spice Girls...then I had a revelation when I discovered Nirvana and the old rock bands of the 70's (thanks, Mum!) At roughly the same time, the Manic Street Preachers entered my life and I entered what is known as my 'skinny indie kid' phase. That lasted pretty much all the way through college; by the time I was 18, I was a fully fledged rock and metal chick. Who still loved Kylie. What? She's bloody Kylie!! (This, by the way, is a very quick whistlestop tour of my musical history and heritage. If I listed all the bands that I loved here, half of them you won't have heard of and the other half will probably make you go "who?")

So yes...Kylie. Thanks to her, I got to know that girls could sing just as well as boys (I was 5, remember...it was an innocent time back in the 80's). And because of Kylie, I got to know the Spice Girls, who taught me girl power and encouraged my feminist leanings. On a very juvenile level, admittedly, but still...Then I discovered Alanis Morrisette, Siouxsie Sioux, Kate Bush, Shirley Manson and Courtney Love...I was officially converted to the 'girls rock' message and - although I worship my male rock gods in all their glory - it's the women who have a special place in my heart.

And so, to the women in music who have inspired me, comforted me, given expression to things I could never imagine and given voice to the things that I have; to Kylie, who started it all; to Siouxsie and Alanis; the girls in Bananarama and the Spice Girls; to Shirley and Courtney and all the other female singers and musicians that I have great respect and love for (Simone, Vibeke, Emilie, Tarja, Anette, Angela...); to all of them: thank you. And an especial thank you to the fabulous Sarah Jezebel Deva, who is not only one of the most talented and fabulous people I have ever come across, but has proved that meeting your heroes doesn't always have to mean disappointment. She is so warm and funny, and takes the time to communicate with as many of her fans as possible and that, to me, makes her even more fantastic...Cradle of Filth's loss is definitely metal's gain!



More posts in this vein to follow, I feel...gotta spread the talent!

What's In A Name?

Quite a lot, actually, especially when you need a nom de plume or a stage name, something to hide behind on t'internet or to generate interest in your work. Which explains why, over the years, the names I've used on forums and other interweb-based places have been many and varied. Never let them know who you are, after all...it also explains why one of my lovely friends has spent the better part of an hour discussing burlesque names with me (he has the patience of a zillion saints, as befits a GBF). I still say we should have gone with Miss Lucy Lastic, but apparently it's already in use by a rather fabulous drag queen. Dammit. Still, so far we've come up with some crackers...

1) Miss Anna Seizure (this is possibly my favourite so far)
2) Indigo Irae (Epica tribute!)
3) Miss Sugar Shakespeare (cos I'm sweet 'n' literary)
4) Miss Eva Dream (yep, a Nightwish one...)
5) Miss Rae Venn (cos 'crow baby!' doesn't have quite the same ring to it)
6) Cocoa Katy (because I love chocolate)
7) Luna Falls (moonlight and water - two of my favourite things)
8) Fancy Nancy (after my favourite childhood book)
9) Ruby Starlet and Jasmine Shimmer (from the Dulux paint catalogue, of all things)
10)Lotta Legs (because we need the cheese factor, clearly)

We're still going - I keep getting random emails with things like 'Plum Duff!' in them, so this one could run and run. And should any one have any suggestions, feel free to add to the list! So far I'm torn between "Miss Anna Seizure" and "Miss Sugar Shakespeare"...although the more names we come up with, the more names I love!

Maybe I need split personalities...