Raven on a Writing Desk

Today, I don't know what to do about religion.

This morning I watched the Bill Maher segment on "Jesus Camp" and everyone who was talking was scaring me. The insistence that belief in religion was schizophrenic was there, that a belief that God is talking to you is just not possible (because, there is no God, or he doesn't talk, so you must be a wacko). On the other side, there was the insistence that Christianity is "radical," because it's not normal to "lay down your life for a friend" (when?), and that Christians "don't have the freedom" not to proclaim the "Word of God" (TM). There was one moderate there, who was dark-skinned, Indian looking, I don't know him, but I'm sure that's part of why they picked him. He got the last word about how moderates should make themselves heard over the voices of the extremists (speaking of Muslims and Christians) and that no faith actually based itself on violence. Of course, there was very little about what he actually believed, or thought moderates believed.

Of course, I'm a Pagan, because I'm trying to be true to the Divine Spark inside ME, and also to find a way that is as respectful as possible of all that I affect, spiritual, physical, and possibly not even believing there's a real separation between the two. (As John says, "Is everything sacred?!)

But, today is Halloween, right? It's the day for spooky chills and giving in to thoughts of death, graves, those who have passed, and the spirits that (may) walk the night. So I had retired to the bath with Son of Rosemary, a book I rescued from the salvage bin in the interest of cheap thrills. And while I'm doing that, the doorbell rings and it's the religious types, with a pamphlet about the end times and False Religions. Somehow I'm sure the visit was related to the two jack-o-lanterns flanking the front door. Or maybe it's the "FAE 0NE" license plate. Too bad I didn't have any pentacles other than on the hand that was clutching my bathrobe closed. Fortunately, my near-nudity seemed to save me from any nice chats with the evangelicals.

I guess, like the politicians, they're really trying to reach the undecideds, not actually convert.

In the end, though, it's all smoke and mirrors. I don't know what happens when I die. I think that there's something besides biochemistry running me. I believe in virtue, and the powers of humor, courtesy, love, art, and honor. I want to hear from God(dess) but I seem to have lost something in the maelstrom of holy wars and dire predictions. I'm afraid to live and afraid to die.

I guess it's Halloween indeed.

There is another spot in the haunted house this year that I'm particularly fond of: the hall of mirrors (or the "mirror maze" although there's nothing IMHO that is maze-y about it except that it's entirely lined in mirrors!).

There's one spot, that Ben, my boss, showed to me, where you can stand and people can't really see you. Basically, there's just an S-curve lined with mirrors, and so you can theoretically see all the way through (even if you don't know where it turns) but in this one spot, there is no wall and no mirror, and so it pretty effectively divides the winding path into two sections, and so I stand on the other side of the gap from where people come in, and then as they approach the gap, I leap into it. Essentially, where they are expecting another mirror, there is a ME all-of-a-sudden like.

The mirrored hall is the next actor position after one called "house above," which is an actor on a platform, surrounded on all four sides by various holes and windows. I worked it one night and didn't enjoy it at all, because there is too much vulnerability. You can be working on one window and a patron can come up behind you and reach into your "boo-hole," and some people are a**h*les like that. Anyway, the point of bringing up "house above" is that one night while I was working mirrors, the actor in that spot was throwing rubber worms on people (They actually come in a bucket, I think they're supposed to be bait). Since the illusion of the mirrors is so dependent on the symmetry, I was keeping an eye out all the time for items in the path, and so all night I was picking up worms that fell out of people's clothing.

Most of the worms I gave to Jamie, who was leading and wearing a zombie outfit. He put the worms in his hatband, and that was very cute. I kept one worm, which Jamie named "Leroy." I kept Leroy in the fold of one of the curtains in the hall, where I could reach him quickly.

Now, I've been told, not just believed, that I'm extremely cute in the mirrored hall. I hop out at people with childish glee, screaming "Eeeee!" and giggling. I also dance. This greatly amuses the next actor, who can (of course) easily see me in the mirrors. See, since there is nowhere to hide anything in the hall, and no boo-hole to run to, I had to come up with a "character" to deal with the fact that AFTER I scare them, I'm still interacting with the patrons. Fortunately, I'm good at this. :)

So, the character is a creepy little-girl ghost (or an old woman who thinks she's a little girl??!) who is dancing around laughing, "I scared you! You thought I was scary!"

But of course, since people are people, some folks get NOTHING out of this, and that's where Leroy came in. Frequently, if I couldn't scare people, a sudden wriggly earthworm in the face was good enough for at least a jump.

Near the end of one night, a small group of stragglers came through, and one guy looked completely bored. So, I reached back into the curtain and pulled out Leroy. "Earthworm!" I chirped at him, hoping to at least get a grin.

Well, no. This guy looked like a football player (linebacker?), not too tall, but broad. When he saw Leroy, he yelped, "Oh, hell no!" and fell backward, grabbing one of the curtains.

This was unfortunate, because this particular curtain was at a junction where several curtains came together. And he pulled them all down. Curtains and curtain rods blocking the path, it looked like a tornado had hit it. My nice safe spot suddenly became an obstacle course. I had to crawl under the curtains to retrieve Leroy!

Fortunately, we had only one more group come in that night, because the curtain rods had to be restrung and remounted. I'm not sure if this is the sort of attention I wanted.