OK, one endorsement on the crowded Colorado ballot: Amendment 44.

It would decriminalize possession of small amounts of marijuana, putting Colorado into much the same legal territory as Alaska.

Cannabis is not really part of my life, but I don’t care to see headlines like this one from Texas: Dead Dog, $5K in Damage, Guns, and Grenades . . . and Two Joints.

I will vote for 44, then, not because I’m a big pot smoker but because I am sick of the excesses of the War on (some) Drugs. Voting yes seems to be the only way to register an opinion, since politicians are generally scared to be branded “pro-drug,” regardless of their private feelings.

My department chair (that’s how we say it in Academia to avoid the sexism of “chairman,” even though it makes him sound like an ornate piece of furniture) recently invited me to speak to one of his classes.

To establish my credentials, he handed a copy of my book Her Hidden Children: The Rise of Wicca and Paganism in America around the seminar table.

Because I teach English rather than history of religion, not too many people had known about it. I did thank him in the preface for his support of my unconventional scholarship, however. But I had to chuckle too, because some of these students are my students this semester too.

I don’t exactly wear my pentagram on my sleeve at the university. I am what I am (and they ought to give the department some kind of diversity points benefit for having me), but I don’t advertise.

Consider, for instance, my student C____, with whom I worked closely on an important project over the summer, one that might further her career. She’s bright and willing to do far more than the minimum work required. She is also more or less of a fundamentalist Christian. It would not surprise me if she thinks that the universe was created in six 24-hour days. But I liked having her in class all the same.

If she knew I was in the Craft, would it spoil the professor-student relationship? All she would have to do is Google me, but students are generally incurious about their professors’ lives, I think.

Meanwhile, another student who was working on an interview-based article in a magazine-writing class told me that if her first interviewee did not work out, she could interview “a friend who was Pagan.”

“Let’s stick with Plan A,” I said.

And, meanwhile, a department colleague asked me if Her Hidden Children was for sale in the university bookstore.

Duh! I had completely forgotten about the display shelves of books by faculty members.

So I printed out the page from AltaMira Press’s online catalog and took it to the bookstore manager.

Today she emailed me: It’s back-ordered until December.

I should be glad, since that seems to indicate that it is selling. Hope so.

This is not a political blog, but I could not help noticing the recent White House admission that they were dropping “stay the course” from their political talking points. (NPR audio here.

We know that the rationale keeps changing. First it was weapons of mass destruction, but there were none. Then it was regime change–agreed, Saddam Hussein was a bad guy. And “bringing democracy.” And “fighting terrorism.” I think the public is growing weary, but the elections next month will show just how weary.

More to the point, yesterday’s panel on NPR’s Morning Edition focused on language (which I do blog about) and how simply calling the Iraq situation a “civil war” would force us to re-think our approach. (Audio here) Why language matters.

Iraq, in a sense, is not a nation. “Iraq” is not “Arabic for Vietnam,” as some antiwar people suggested in 2003. It’s more like “Arabic for Yugoslavia.”

Yugoslavia (“Land of the South Slavs”) was created by the Great Powers in 1918, following the collapse of the Austro-Hungarian empire. It contained several small nations that had, at times, independent existences when they were not controlled from Venice, Istanbul, or Vienna as part of larger empires.

After World War II, Marshall Tito and the Communists kept them glued together. In 1991 the lid came off for good, and the whole former “nation” exploded into war.

When we got rid of Saddam’s government, we unwittingly took the lid off Iraq. And Bush, Cheney, and Rumsfield were so historically ignorant that they did not see the trouble coming.

Iraq, too, was created by decree following the defeat of the Turkish Empire in World War I and the loss of most of its Middle Eastern holdings. Some Englishmen drew some lines on the map and lo, Iraq! And they put some homeless Arab king in charge and called it a nation.

Bush & Co. thought they were liberating France–like going into Baghdad was Paris 1944, with people throwing flowers and pretty girls kissing the brave GIs, followed by a government-in-exile being installed and things eventually getting back to normal.

As we see now, they were clueless. We keep talking about building up the Iraqi police and army, but I think that those forces chiefly draw recruits who sign up to get uniforms, pay, and lots of guns and ammo with which to slay their religious, ethnic, and tribal enemies. Where is the sense of nationhood?

Polical blogger Steve Sailer quotes columnist John Tierney:

The problem is that [Iraqis] have so many social obligations more important to them than national unity. Iraqis bravely went to the polls and waved their purple fingers, but they voted along sectarian lines. Appeals to their religion trumped appeals to the national interest. And as the beleaguered police in Amara saw last week, religion gets trumped by the most important obligation of all: the clan.

The deadly battle in Amara wasn’t between Sunnis and Shiites, but between two Shiite clans that have feuded for generations. After one clan’s militia destroyed police stations and took over half the city, the Iraqi Army did not ride to the rescue. Authorities regained control only after the clan leaders negotiated a truce.

So let’s just call it a civil war and make our plans based on that fact. I’ve wondered for a long time if Iraq, like Yugoslavia, was not fated to break into at least three smaller countries–and if that might not be a good thing.

OK, back to the usual blogging.

⟨/POLITICS⟩

The entertainment side of the BCC goes all spooky about Boleskine House (via YouTube, Part 1 of 4).

….the house in which demonic forces remain until this very day . .

The word “Celt” first appears in English in 1706, but it referred then usually to the people of ancient Gaul (modern France), says the OED. There are some earlier uses of “Celtic,” again referring to the Gauls, from the late 17th century.

“Celts” begame fashionable as Noble Savages after Scotland, in particular, was no longer seen by the English as a military threat. “Bonnie Prince Charlie’s” attempt to be king of England died at Culloden Moor in 1746, after a promising beginning.

Something similar happened in Ireland after the 1798 uprising was put down, I would suggest. Noble savages are most “noble” after they have been defeated.

King George IV and then Queen Victoria elevated Scottish tartans into high fashion. The linking of specific tartans to clans was a Victorian-era invention.

By the 1870s a Celtic Magazine was being published in Britain, and the whole Romantic association of Celticity with poetic melancholy and an allegedly Pagan-tinged form of Christianity was well underway.

Tags: Celts, Celtic spirituality

When I blogged the recent local Celtic music festival, I promised more on the tangled web of Celticity. This foggy, rainy, sleeting night seems a perfect time to begin.

Take the assertion of Stephen Oppenheimer, an anthropologist who has published on the ancient populations of the British Isles:

“Celt” is now a term that sceptics consider so corruped in the archaeological and popular literature that it is worthless.

In music, however, “Celtic” is a genre. Compare “Country and Western,” which requires performers and listeners to be neither rural nor residents of the North American West in order to enjoy it.

Be glad you have the music, because in genetic, cultural, linguistic and perhaps even religious terms, “Celtic” means nothing in particular.

As Marion Bowman said in her important 1993 article, “”Reinventing the Celts” (Religion 23 (1993): 147-156), “Celtic sells.” She later gave us the wonderful term “cardiac Celt,” for someone who knows in their heart that they are “Celtic,” in other words, “less tainted [by modernity] . . . repositories of a spirituality that has elsewhere been lost.”

Not just Pagans but some Christians have reinvented themselves as cardiac Celts as well.

Tags: Celts, Celtic spirituality

Aussie Dave notes a parade of the Undead in Wellington, New Zealand.

The internal link seems to be dead, but here is his take on it.

And here I thought it was something special to have a Day of the Dead parade.