"Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are"

from Tales of Subversive Magic

by Kathryn Theatana

Prologue:

“Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are”

Once upon a time, In a Land with many Dykes and Faeries...

In this Land, there were so many Dykes and Amazons, and Faeries and Fags, that wherever you went you could find them. There were Queers living on every street, working in every business, loving each other in their homes (or out in the open if they were brave). They had colorful parties in the streets. They walked their dogs and children in the parks. And some of them worked Magic here.

But along with this beauteous abundance of Queers, there was an Evil King. This King loved the power and money and attention he got by being King. And although Kings are supposed to represent the people of the Land, this King chose to ignore the Queers: "Nope. Uhn-Uh. No Queers here."

Well, at first he tried to ignore them, but this didn't work very well.

As the Queer people of the Land became harder to ignore, he became filled with hatred and fear. His denial turned to obsession: "EEK! Too many Queers! Bad Queers! Why are there so many Queers around me?! What, they want a Queer Civil Rights Law? AAAAAGH! No! No Way!" In his terror and rage, the Evil King became more and more unreasonable, and more and more obsessed.

Now, in actuality, this Land may have had no more Queers than anywhere else. It may be that this story happened only because these particular Queers were not like their hidden siblings. These Queers were LOUD. And nasty. And subversive. And brave.

For seventeen years they fought the Evil King. And every year, well, they sort of lost. But every year they got a little stronger, and a little smarter.

By the time of the Great March on Washington in '87, they had become very strong and very smart indeed.

Many of the Queers in the Land had forgotten about the would-be Queer Civil Rights Law and had concentrated instead upon building new/old, tribal ways of justice and self-governance. They built their own culture, and ignored the Evil King. But others began to wonder about this potential Law... These others, newly-emerged from the hidden realms, remembered what it was like to be alone -- to have no community, no support, and no legal recourse if kicked out of a job or even one's home. They felt with a passion that a Law would be a Good Thing.

Many fierce debates took place over whether the would-be-Law was worth putting energy into.

In the midst of all this, there was yet another group of our Queers. The Queer Witches. They too were unsure as to how much good this Law, in and of itself, could do. Many of them felt that any action which worked within the confines of this corrupt Kingdom was doomed to fail. But still, in this fight they saw deeper, more ancient issues; and perhaps even a chance to have some fun.

This is what they did about it...

Part One:

In the Realm of Magic

Twilight. We climb the hill under grey skies. The wind keens and pulls at our clothing, as the raucous crows squabble in the trees. The sky is heavy with threats of rain.

This weather is our shield, keeping all but the most dedicated away.

Already we can feel the power coalescing, taking tangible form around us as we climb in silence, deepening our perceptions. This working has been building for three moons now... formed at individual altars around the city, fed by the power we carry here in our bodies, gathered from the circles, marches, and vigils.

We reach the center. The crows have left three feathers here on the peak for us. I am relieved, and grateful for their co-operation; we will need it. We sing our thanks, quietly. We do not want to draw attention to ourselves. We are not here to celebrate. Not here to be seen. We are here to work.

... ... ...

To read the rest of this tale, check out the Summer '98, Magic and Politics issue of Sagewoman, and/or help Ian find a new editor and publisher for the still-unpublished Queer Pagans Anthology.