Don't Censor My Texts!

Picture from here. Warning: it's cheesy.

My scrying bowl—still sadly untested—was calling to me yesterday evening. I was in the middle of typing up a short essay on the banning of certain words, some as seemingly benign as “democracy,” “human rights,” and “lonely,” in text messages throughout China. You can find the original article here. Gotta love government censorship. It makes me proud to be a member of a country that does, despite what the general public may or may not think, attempt to maintain free press. Can I get a cheer for the First Amendment? And perhaps another for the Founding Fathers ensuring the inclusion of a Bill of Rights that laid the ground work for later, more progressive social movements to earn further rights for ALL citizens, not just rich white male landowners? Ok, perhaps Madison and Jefferson and Washington and Franklin did not exactly foresee women *finally* gaining the right to vote, but I’d like to think they knew at least on some level that the issue of slavery would eventually come to a head and, thankfully, dissipate. Oh, America.

However, now that I’m done with that tangent on the fabulousness that is a free and active press, back to my scrying bowl. So I’m sitting there trying to think of something witty to say about Chinese text messaging censorship, and when I leaned back in my chair, I caught sight of my little black stone bowl, sitting there on my shelf nestled all cozy-like in between my mini-cauldron and Gregory the Gargoyle (thanks again, Werewolf06) and my scented votive collection. I picked it up and held it for a few moments, drinking in the cool texture of the stone and the lingering scent of the scarf in which I used to wrap it. Immediately, I wanted to turn out the lights, light a black candle, fill the bowl with water and a pinch of mugwort, and see what was to be seen. But I couldn’t. Obligations and assignments once again got in the way.

Plus I’m not sure what my roommates (both present at the time) would have thought of that.

So I just sighed and put the bowl back on my shelf. Perhaps this weekend I’ll get a chance to use it. I would love to do some divination at the New Moon and see what the darkness wants to show me, but I don’t think I’ll get a chance.

Happy Imbolc.