Wherein Hollywood Kills My Religion

It's nothing new, Hollywood has taken facts and skewered them to within an inch of their lives, added a few explosions and gratuitous nude scenes and voila! Big summer blockbuster. For the most part, I get it, I don't say anything. Explosions and sex fill seats and earn money. Money makes the world go round, never mind what they say about love.

That said though, I have yet to see a good Hollywood movie in which my religion isn't treated as a plot device. If Christianity or Judaism were treated the same way, there would be much hell to pay. So why ours?

I happened to be surfing channels and found "E!" channel playing The Craft. Originally released in 1996, it was one of the first movies I saw that had anything to do with what would become my chosen spiritual path. Glad I did NOT take it seriously. Here's the cover:

Remember this movie? Yeah, it was a big movie that year, and for years after it would come back to haunt me. "Are you a Nancy or a Sarah?"

This movie commits just about every crime Hollywood has ever made against my religion. First, they still use terms like "God" and "Devil", terms most seasoned practitioners don't use. Yes, we believe in God, but generally as the term "Goddess", the creatrix of our world. Some even go so far as to say "The All" is just that. It's nameless, genderless and unaligned with good or bad. It is whatever is in your heart. Myself, I feel nature is a duality, all things have male and female. Therefore that is reflected in my spirituality, God and Goddess.

The "Devil" just outright doesn't exist. We believe in personal accountability, so no scape goats. You f*** up, you own up to it and learn from it. No one made you do it. No "Hell" either, folks are reincarnated if they make poor life choices and keep doing it until they get it right. People can also choose to come back to be a guiding light. To be fair though, this is just how my view of the world works. I understand this conflicts with a lot of other religions, but I'm not saying they are wrong. It's just how I perceive the world.

Back to my rant. They refer to a made up entity named "Manon", referred to as a male (which is a big travesty seeing as male and female are balanced in the true Craft, if not in favor of female) and exhibit powers. Powers, I might add, that do not subscribe to the known laws of physics. Last I checked, Witches are human. We don't fly or change our hair color by whim (unless you buy the hair dye) and we don't cause snakes and bugs to just appear. If I could, do you really think I'd be working at Best Buy and living check to check? Hell no! I'd be making money off my abilities and you wouldn't have to ask if I have powers, I'd just show you.

The Craft has always been about embracing the divinity invested in you by nature. You're born divine, you are a part of nature, and there is magic in the blooming of flowers. Not green f****** sparks shooting out of your fingers or waving a wand and saying "Wingardium Leviosa!". I love Harry Potter, but it doesn't further the Craft's public image.


I digress, the first half of this movie you kind of get a skewered sense of the Craft. They use our language, our symbols, and our close bond, but they turn it into something high school outcasts delve into, instead of something anyone might find comfort in. And did anyone else notice it was the sexually promiscuous, "slutty" character that's deemed evil? Sexist much?

By the second half of the movie, all character development and integrity is shoveled out the window and it's all special effects and girls wearing tons of black. Since when did Witches become synonymous with vampire? Snarky comments rule the ending and while it's entertaining, it's still butchering my personal beliefs.

The Craft isn't what misfits do to bond, it's what legitimate folks do on a daily basis. The Craft doesn't give you special powers to break the laws that govern our world, they just help you see the divine in everything. And slutty, goth adorned girls are not the sole practitioners of our Craft.

With our image already so damaged, why does Hollywood continue to trivialize something so important to people and make it a vehicle for fancy effects and cheesy plots?

So I pose this question to you. If your religion, spirituality or personal beliefs that you hold sacred were continuously butchered to market movies to mass audiences, how would you feel? The only other example I have seen of this was the Hindu religion being slaughtered by Mike Myers in "The Love Guru".

I'm still somewhat indifferent to Hollywood's antics, but I wonder how much of this people outside of the Craft believe. How much of what's portrayed in these movies affects what people really think of us?

Mother's Day

Some people grow up in this world never knowing the love of a mother. They try to replace this bond and fill the void in a plethora of ways, usually resulting in some horrible travesty of the missing emotional tie. I myself am blessed not with just one stellar mother, but with a few. Over the years I have met some incredible women who have adopted me into their families and treated me as a daughter. I intend to honor the biggest players here as my tribute.

First let me start off by saying that each of these remarkable women have given me life lessons that have stuck with me over the years. Some have shown up on a blazing white horse in dark hours, and others have been on standby since the day I was born, just waiting for the single word that I need them. They have filled my life with love, been there for my ups and downs, and always wish me the best on my future, no matter what it might be.

So the biggest reason for this post today is to say thank you. I hold each of you dear, and I hope that when I have daughters of my own, be they my own flesh and blood or adopted into my family by a close bond, I can pass on a bit of you to each of them.

I will begin with Mary Trubiro. Thanks to good fortune, we were neighbors, and my mother became very good friends with Miss Mary, who had daughters my age. Without even a second's hesitation, Mary would be there if I needed her, riding to the rescue if mom couldn't be reached. Even years later as an adult, I still find myself warmly welcomed whenever I knock on her door, and a "quick stop in" becomes a much longer break over coffee that stays with me long after I have left. Her charming laugh, her great hugs, and her warm hospitality will be something I strive for as my own family grows.

Following along we have Carol Hilliker, who was not only there to chauffeur Laura and I around in our young years, but even took me on the family vacation where I still hold some of my fondest Northern Michigan memories. Always smiling and always so kind, she never once complained of my many many visits to hang out with Laura, and often played music on her piano. I can still hear the melodies from Somewhere in Time, and nothing made me happier than to see her in Civil War garb while she explained some of the quirks of life back then. Her tenderness and talent will always be with me.

Paula Perkins. Oh lord what a lady! Growing up with her sons meant we got to see a lot of her, especially on towards high school. She was the quintessential nerd mom, allowing all of us to LARP in her back yard over bonfires. I think I spent more time her in kitchen gossiping than I did actually playing. I remember her cooking dinner for my whole family while we dealt with Chris's funeral, and headbanging with her at Branden's wedding. I will always think of her affectionately as Mama Paula, and will always strive to be the fun, nerdy mom that everyone adores.

Aunt Patty, who isn't technically my aunt as she's my mother's cousin, but since when did that ever matter to me? I sadly didn't know much of her in my childhood years, beyond the stories my mom would tell us about her youth. Thanks to the miracle of social networking sites I've gotten a chance to connect with her and I can say she's more like a twin to my mother. They have the same way of talking, the great personalities that make me laugh and such big, compassionate hearts! I'm hope I'm just as compassionate with my children as she is!

My grandmothers of course warrant being listed here! Grandma Michael and Grandma Cromwell both helped so much in raising me. I still have the dolls and blankets grammie Cromwell made for me, with my "Grammie loves me" blankie still bringing a wave of peace and happiness to me. I was inseparable from it as a little girl, and one day I intend to pass it on to my babies. My gramma Michael was a constant presence in my life, living so very near. Classy, elegant and still a firecracker, she was forever trying to get me to stand up straight and taught me the importance of always having red lipstick in my purse. My grandmothers were wonderful to me, and though my gramma Michael has passed on, she's still in my heart, and will most likely be heard from again when I try to get my girls to stand up straight!

As I wind down the count down, I want to mention my future mother-in-law, Mrs. Janice Murphy. From the very first she has always thought to send me little trinkets, including my first Terrible Towel that still resides in my most special belongings. I've gotten to know her a bit, but I really hope to get to know her a lot more in the years that come and while I'm just starting to cultivate my relationship with her, she deserves a huge thank you. Without her, I would not be engaged to the most amazing man. She brought him into the world and raised him, and for that I owe her my future happiness. She's so kind and caring, always warm and hospitable and always so careful to make sure I'm taken care of while visiting. I see great things in our future as mother and daughter and I'm so thoroughly pleased how well we get along! Convention be darned, I love my future mother in law!

And finally, the Piece de Resistance, my biological mother. It's been said there is a thin line between madness and genius, and I think she crosses that on a daily basis. No one I have ever met is as crazy or as sharp as my mother. She'll do absolutely random things that drive me up a wall, and the next day when I call for answers I need to solve a problem, she's two steps ahead and it's already handled. She has her senses finely tuned into her children, and can usually find me... especially when I don't want to be found. She's amazing, she's insane, she's absolutely everything and despite my teasing her and vice versa, I know without a doubt she loves every single thing about me. Every flaw, every cell, every quirk, and she'll always be there to guide me from my heart. I got my bleeding heart and daydreaming head from her, and also my ability to try and think out side the box to figure out what I need. I owe my life to her, and if there is one ultimate compliment I can ever receive, it's that I'm just like her.

To all the women who have been a part of my life and doted on me as a daughter, either real or adopted, you all mean so much to me. I wouldn't be who I am today without your influence and guidance, and your amazing ability to thwart my attempts to get into trouble. Thank you again if you happened to cover for my being silly and young. (You know who you are.)

To all my beautiful sisters, cousins and girl friends who grew up with me and are now mother's yourselves, I think you are the most noble and amazing women. I have known most of you since middle school (and some even earlier) and I know you to be wonderful, strong and passionate girls who have made wonderful, strong and passionate mothers. I hope when it is my turn that I manage half your courage and love of family. I'm definitely taking notes.

Finally, I will wrap this up by saying that I don't need a special day to bring this up, I feel this way about you all every day. But since I have such a convenient excuse, why not take advantage! I love you all, and I keep you in my heart where I will pass down your wisdom, caring and insanity to my own children!

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!

Deep thoughts on the Wedding

Maybe it's the late hour, or maybe I'm just waxing philosophical, but I've been thinking a lot about my pending nuptials. Every day it seems I'm getting more excited, rambling my vows in the shower, imagining the sound of the pipe organs playing as I walk down the aisle, posing for pictures afterward and of course the reception.

I look forward to a day surrounded by my friends and family, a day that gives me no fear or the impending feeling of uncomfortable moments. I've always been obsessed with having everything done perfectly, getting the perfect flowers, the perfect colors, the perfect decorations... but now when I think about marrying Matt, all I can think is that nothing in the world matters except being with him. I'll wear a trash bag and beam the whole day, and it's surprising how very ok I am that the details don't have to be perfect.

So then I had to ask myself, why am I so ok with it? Have I matured? Am I that smitten with my groom? Or is it that every important puzzle piece has fallen into place and it has that wonderful feeling of "When it's right, it's right" permeating everything? My soon to be mother-in-law is fantastic, I really couldn't ask for a better lady. My future brother-in-law and I have enough in common to enjoy a day out, and my family just adores Matthew.

Every time I look at my engagement ring, a shiver of delight runs up my spine and I can almost see the results of our hard labor. My only sadness is that it will only be for one day. I hope that day lasts for a long, long time.  Every moment of the planning feels enjoyable, and every moment leading up to our big day feels like a dream. How exciting!

Switching gears

I decided after the brutality of the French Revolution I'd switch gears a little and picked up a book that the friendly guy at the used book store highly recommended.

It's called "Black Mass" by Dick Lehr and Gerard O'Neill and it chronicles the inside corruption of the FBI and the notorious Boston gangster Whitey Bulger. Being a huge fan of the Scorsese film "The Departed" I saw a lot of parallels. It wasn't until a little fact checking that I realized Jack Nicholson had actually modeled his role of Costello after the notorious Bulger, and in fact the movie is a lose interpretation of the events!

I like the writing style of the book that evokes the 1970's era South Boston, and I'm disturbed a bit to know I've actually stepped across some of these crime scenes without even knowing it.

And so, here I am

Welcome to my brand new, shiny blog! I intend to showcase the things I like, make a few rants about the things I don't like, and pretty much give a glimpse into my crazy world. With some luck, a few people might actually be interested in what they find here. With even more luck, it'll inspire some interesting conversation.

To kick things off, I'd like to point out the blogs I'm currently following and highly recommend them. Some are funny, some serious, and some are somewhere in between. All are wickedly interesting and good reads. Take a second to check them out!

Now on to the things I have been up to recently. As some of you may know, I am a big fan of doomed queens. The women who have worn the crown and fallen from grace in some of the most harrowing stories of history. In this vein, I picked up the book about one of the most famous doomed queens, "Marie Antoinette: The Journey" by Antonia Fraser.



It's such a good read, really making the life of this poor girl come to life. I know, that may seem like a contradiction, "Poor Queen" but it's true. She followed the worst advice not to acknowledge the rumor mongers and paid with her life. Vilified as an overindulged, vapid woman, the queen was actually a study of baptism by fire.