First Point: T-Bob, that conjunction of colours, while definitely unique, made my poor heraldic eyes bleed. I'll be wary of you in the future. Heartburn Kitty, indeed!
Point the Second: It has always infuriated me (

) that the SCA has such a authority problem that it reacts so negatively toward the Second Estate. I mean, honestly, it's like a bunch of grownups who just can't get over having been made to go to Sunday School as second-graders. I've enjoyed that part of history for years, and have portrayed priests/friars/Templars/preachers/etc. at times for all of that time. If I had a dollar for every time I've gotten the cold shoulder at events, or gotten into arguments with people who can't read (Corpora does
not disallow religion; it disallows religious activities which are or might be perceived to be mandatory activities at an event), I'd have a new friggin' car. Once not terribly long ago, I had to be terse with a Duchess who claimed that religious personae weren't allowed; I would have been more polite, but
how can someone who has ruled a kingdom be that unfamiliar with law and policy!?.
I'm normally very cool with the SCA. I like the SCA, I play in the SCA and have fun in the SCA. But this is one area where the SCA sucks shit through tubes. And it will never change, because of the cultural mentality of the organisation.
One of the things that is very cool about the SCA is that it is a subculture. All of its members and hangers-on have more than a little bit of the geek in their closet (even the butchest Dukes

). And one of the indicators of geekdom is attention-grabbing. Being so obvious about one's personal beliefs as to hold up a sign upon which is written "Ooh, look at me, I'm a pagan!" is one of the SCA equivalents to spray-painting a wall with graffiti.
For me, it all boils down to double standards. I've had snarling matches with neo-pagans before. Usually, such confrontation consisted of a Celti-Goth accosting me (dressed as a religious of some sort), accusing me of Ruining His Fun [tm] with me overt displays of religion. (I sometimes used to preach to the birds and beasts, like St Francis, but in no public way; I was properly dressed, of course.) While composing my verbal broadside, I would take in the trinkets and spangles of pagan nature adorning his neck, so as to have some ammo, and then observe that his overt displays of his religion were ruining my fun, too. "What's your solution, bub? Oh, and by the way, did you know your religion, which you claim is sooooo old and wise, was created in the late 19th century by an unemployed fake medium? Yeah. Just like Scientology. Oops. Sorry I crashed your worldview. Now buzz off, jackoff."
People can believe whatever they want. Jesus, Allah, Buddha, Satan, it's all the same to me, as long as you don't practice the same things for which you condemn me.
Here, you can
have the damn soapbox.
