Sometimes all The Bad Witch needs is a wheelbarrow and a holocaust cloak.
Et voila, they are provided.
A little while ago I informed you that I wanted to retire from being The Bad Witch. Tired of carrying the mantle of some other witch’s badness, I was ready to move on. Some of you grumbled but acquiesced, most of you said: “Wither thou goest, I will follow,” and around 1500 of you have hopped over to Ehsha.
For those of you who want a few more files about bad witchery, and for me–who wants to retire and move to Patagonia, there is a holocaust cloak big enough for us all.
Just like the Dread Pirate Roberts, I have found one to whom I can pass the title The Bad Witch. Rather, she found me.
Well, damn; I reckon we found each other.
You may remember her as LadyLucyChaos whose post about my blog raised a few eyebrows. (When you read “I’ll Call That Hand,” don’t miss the comments section, that’s the best part–and don’t get re-riled up; it’s all cool between TBW and LLC. Can I get a “Hell yeah”?) She now blogs the newest part of her Pagan journey at Beyond The Dreads. (I recommend you begin with “Changing Inside, Showing It On The Outside” and “Real Eyes, Realize, Real Lies.” And then click “follow.” You’re not gonna wanna miss watching this bird take flight. Let me connect a two more dots for you–this is the bird I intended at the end of my post about “The Dance” at Ehsha.)
Recently Undreaded (as in–she had the most amazing dreadlocks and got talked into cutting them off), Hazey (whose name also honors her grandmother) has been through the same-damned crucible that left me reeling a few years back. Like me, she’s charred but the fire burned the impurities out. That’s what crucibles do. She showed up on my front porch and we realized in an instant that she was the new scapegoat offered up to assure cultural continuity (go read “This is Not A Test,” we’ll wait), she was the new member of the blacklist, the new member of a not-so-exclusive “club,” she–gasp–was The (New) Bad Witch.
So, like Cummerbund, Ryan, and Westley, I am taking on a new crew and plan on calling Hazey “The Bad Witch” from here on out. It is a bit like being immortal when you have someone to pass your spiritual baton, i’n’t it? besides, she has so many stories to tell you about, so many potholes to avoid–and (honestly?) more guts to tell you about them than I ever did.
After all, who’s going to tell you these things?
Now, be good to The (New) Bad Witch. (After all, we’ve just gotten past the point where I was telling her, “Sleep well, at most I will kill you in the morning.” LOL. Not really.) Her wounds are much fresher than mine were two years ago–though I suspect her skin is a good deal thicker than mine was twenty-two years ago. Let her get her sea-legs. I’ll be on the sidelines watching and reading and moderating and swabbing the deck a drinking a beer and quoting Walt Whitman: “O, Captain, my Captain.”
Oh, and finishing off The Pagan Blog Project–unless, of course, The New Bad Witch has a good “W” word or two she’d like to share. 🙂
To paraphrase Gretchen Wilson: So here’s to all my brothers and sisters out there keeping Paganism ethical. Let me get a big ‘Hell yeah’ from The Bad Witches like me.
P.S. I realize that after writing “Vardlokkur: I do not think it means what you think it means” I may have worn my The Princess Bride references thin.