Witches and Priests (8/3/09)

Eek it's Monday! And now I will tell you about some things of the various and sundry variety.

Witches!
Witches have always gotten a bum rap. It's invariably unjustified and usually consists of society taking out its frustrations on independent women, who are generally viewed (even today) as a threat to Life As We Know It. The best bit—the bit that really makes the witch hunters look douchey—is that the naysayers have a nasty habit of seeking the assistance of the women they revile. (The Witch of Endor, for an old-school example.) But still, witches are presented as creepy, whether they're ruining Macbeth's life, bringing plagues (in England, once upon a time), or communing with the devil in the nude (in Salem, once upon a time).

Double, double, y'all.

But no more. In a post-Charmed world, witches are good! And like Salem, Mass., which ookily takes commercial advantage of its witchy past, Wells, England, is in the witch trade: Following their recent Wookey Hole witch auditions, one lucky witch will be pulling in £50,000 a year for cackling and chillin' with cats.

Wookey Hole Witch Audition 2009. Represent.

Survey says? Sign me up! I guess I need to work on my British accent. Surely these auditions will be coming around again eventually, and I want to be prepared.

Anglo-Saxon-ipedia!
There's a version of Wikipedia in Anglo-Saxon. This is cool, though not actually useful, as Anglo-Saxon bears all the similarity to modern English as Welsh does, which is to say, none. But if you were an Anglo-Saxon scholar, this would be, like, the highlight of your year.

Anglo like whoa.

I'm in love with a priest!
Not a real one, but a fictional one. I first saw Father Peter from Ballykissangel on a Comic Relief special with my girl Dawn French, aka Geraldine Granger, The Vicar of Dibley:



So when my Netflix told me that I was an Anglophile (this is true, it really did) and suggested I watch Ballykissangel, I said, "Yes, I think I will, thanks." And a few episodes later, I fell in love with Father Peter Clifford. Just like a former Catholic girl should. I don't usually do dramedy; I'm generally all laughs, all the time. But Ballykissangel is just the right balance of light and serious. (And I'm awfully glad none of my priests were ever as charmingly goodhearted and idealistic—and young—as Stephen Tompkinson's Father Peter. I'm pretty sure that lusting after a priest counts as a sin.)

Stephen Tompkinson as most personable priest ever.

And finally, news in brief: Doctor Who is mind-blowingly awesome. Full report to come at some point in the near future. Or past. Or whenever the hell I feel like, actually, 'cause I'm the Time Lord's bitch now.