sparkindarkness | Some snark, because I likes me some snark

“I invited X, you’ll love her!”

*shudder* When it comes to words of ominous dread, these rank somewhat ahead of “There’s a bomb in the building!” in terms of utter horror when coming from a certain colleague of mine.

The problem is she works on some strange social assumption that if you share one biographical descriptor with someone then you are destined to be BEST FRIENDS FOR EVAH. She finds it bemusing that I could possibly dislike someone if we have something in common “but you’re both gay!” “But you both went to the same university!” “But your neighbours!“ Yes, and George Bush and I are both men but I don’t see myself enjoying him turning up at the bar either.

It turns out that I‘d love her because she was a pagan. Ah. See, many of a co-religionists are sensible, wise and happy people who enlighten my life and raise my thoughts and I seek their knowledge and insight hungrily. Sadly many others make me want to slit their throats with razor sharp pentacles. Guess which category she falls into?

Well, the plus side was it became readily apparent about 10 minutes into any attempt at conversation that I could safely ignore everyone she had to say and focus on other people/where I would hide her body (hounds may be employed). I also got some serious mental snarking done while she was busily telling me about her past lives as Queen of various random kingdoms (and why is it, whenever someone believes they can remember past lives, they always seem to remember being a Monarch or aristocrat or priest? How come they never remember being a serf or scabby peasant or fish monger or something? You never get anyone remembering their past life as a syphilitic whore, do you? Why is that?) and how her great great grandmother was an elf (or possibly a faerie. No. Really. Must have been some kind goblin or troll I‘m thinking, because that‘s a damn chunky elf.)

In some ways I should be grateful for what I think of as “Scene” Pagans. After all, they provide more countless hours of snarky amusement even than the fashion victims. Take the choosing of a pentacle.

Many pagans will tell you of the various things the pentacle means to them. Some will talk about it being a symbol of the masculine and feminine. Some will talk of a symbol of protection. Some will talk about the 4 elements and the all/spirit/akasha. However, all of these pagans miss the essential element that the Scene Pagan understands: It’s SHINY and people can see it.

So, when choosing a penatcle the most important thing for a true Scene Pagan to consider is SIZE. Ideally a penatcle should be large enough that you have a point repeatedly jabbing you in each arm pit. This is truly ideal because not only does it tell everyone who can see you that you are a pagan (which is vitally important, since your devotion to the Lord and Lady, gods that are part of all that is requires as many people as possible to SEE you being devoted, y’know) but has the added bonus that your teachers/boss/parents may actually ask you to take it off or hide it. Then you are OMG BEING OPPRESSED and have a fun story to tell about how a primarily atheistic society is just 2 steps away from burning you (sure, it may dilute from ACTUAL IMPORTANT stories about how pagans are actually taking shit from the various powers that be, but don‘t let a little thing like that get in the way of a quality angst!)

Of course, the main thing a true Scene Pagan needs to consider with the pentacle is - is this pentacle enough? I mean, look at all the cool internet sites with all the wonderful loot on it! Surely the best way for a dedicated nature worshipper to express their faith is to be dripping in lots and lots of lead crystal? If you can actually move your arms or raise your neck comfortably then this is a sign you need more faux-silver jewellery. The Goddess demands it according to the first and most holy law of Scene Paganism: if you are a pagan the whole world needs to know about it (as for caring? Well, the world will get back to you on that one).