Witches in Cyberspace
During the 1980s, one of the founding fathers of Wicca International, Alex Sanders, was following a rather different path than his contemporaries. In the summer of 1979, he wrote to me in a philosophical mood about the need for unity in the Craft and apologizing for his past behavior. He asked me to publish an extract of his private letter in my magazine The Cauldron. It read as follows: “There are many ways to the Inner and many ways to the Outer and I believe that Wicca throughout the ages has been sensible in including the practices and activities of others sects while keeping in harmony with the Great Mother and Her Consort. It seems, though, that in the British Isles the bone of contention in the Wicca is whether the Gardnerian Book of Shadows or the Alexandrian book is the real one, whilst others say you do not need a book. Understood, and used correctly, both are valid according to the people who made the choice to adhere to one or other sect. And the same applies to followers of the Wicca who do not use a book.
“I have many indoor rites and many designed for out of doors, whether by the sea, in the country, or on a Welsh mountain top. On May Eve I worked on Pook’s Hill [in Sussex] to be in harmony with the spiritual insight of the poet who felt the ancient magic of the old mound. It was a spontaneous and simple ritual that progressed itself to natural movement and beauty without the pre-conceived rituals of a book.
“It is such a pity that the Wicca cannot accept the fact that if we were to unite in brotherly love before the face of the Lord and Lady, we could become great again and open and respected in the outer world. But until that day comes we can only do our individual best for the Mother and Her children. I realise while I write this that I am as guilty as the next, but now I am trying to make amends for some of the past hurts that I have given and the many public stupidities I created and for others of the Craft. As I have said in another letter to you, my house is open for sincere people of whatever belief—and creed” (TC #15, Lammas 1979).
One of the outdoor rituals mentioned in the above letter was carried out by Sanders and his Sussex coven during his stay in Bexhill and was describe in a local newspaper as being a rite of “the Alexian cult.” Sanders played the part of the sacrificial Corn King and the ceremony was a symbolic death ritual. The Spring Queen struck the fatal blow and took away his crown. She was played by Betty Scott, the woman who had rented the cottage in Selmeston to the Sanderses. A young boy was also present and was described by the newspaper as “‘a sorcerer’s apprentice.” Other fire rituals were held above the Long Man of Wilmington hill figure featuring blazing torches and Sanders wearing an Aztec headdress and mask as the fire god.
Following an acrimonious separation and subsequent divorce from his second wife, Maxine, Sanders had gone back to Sussex as one of his students had offered him an old cottage in Bexhill-on-Sea. Maxine Sanders was still living in their London apartment, where she ran a coven under the name of the Temple of the Mother with her new High Priest, David Goddard. Locally Sanders was regarded as a colorful character and could be found holding court in the Bell Hotel in Bexhill, telling stories about his witchcraft exploits. When visitors sought him at the hotel, a night of heavy drinking sometimes ended up with them returning to the cottage to be initiated.
Despite the circumstances of their parting, Maxine Sanders still attended rituals in Sussex. In one of her autobiographies she described how at one ritual she was the only female present with eleven male witches, so she automatically took the role of High Priestess. Where there is a shortage of women, the usual practice during the cakes and wine ritual was for the chalice to be placed in the center of the circle as each male witch partook of the ritual communion from it. Traditionally Wicca is based on sexual and gender polarity so the chalice would be passed female to male around the circle. Maxine Sanders observed that instead the chalice was passed around male to male with a kiss. She was aware her ex-husband knew she would be upset by this breach of ritual protocol as she believed that “without the polarity of the sexes interacting and thereby transmuting the potential female energy into witch magic [it] would be difficult” (2008: 211).
Despite his bisexuality and numerous homosexual affairs, Alex Sanders married his third wife, Gillian, in December 1982, and appointed her as the “Sussex Queen of the Witches.” The marriage was short-lived and they divorced a year later. Gillian accused Sanders of squandering her divorce settlement of $100,000, spending their wedding night with a male lover, and failing to have sex with her (Valiente 1989: 175). The last accusation had also been made by Maxine Sanders during their divorce case. In a newspaper article, Sanders’ new ex-wife said he did not have any magical powers and stated: “He’s no witch. He’s just a clever man with a high I.Q. and a strong desire to have sex with as many men as possible” (The Sunday Pictorial September 14, 1986).
During the 1980s, Derek Leo Taylor (1939–2000), the owner of a property development company in Hasting, Sussex, met Alex Sanders and was initiated into his coven. He subsequently became a member of his magical groups, the Ordine Della Nova and the Hermetic Order of Alexandria, which practiced a mixture of Wicca, angelic magic (based on Madeline Montalban’s course), the Cabbala, Rosicrucianism, and the Grail Mysteries. Derek Taylor was a gifted psychic and trance medium, and in the 1980s he and Sanders worked together to contact spirits, both the departed and nonhuman entities. If one can believe the accounts of their mediumistic sessions, they were also in contact with aliens from outer space. The two men had constructed a device they described as a time machine. This apparatus consisted of copper plates, possibly connected by wires to a battery. These were placed on the floor and either Sanders or Taylor stood in the center and went into trance. The other man acted as the scribe, writing down the messages received from the spirits.
Copies of the written records of these sessions can be found in the archive of the Museum of Witchcraft at Boscastle. They make fascinating, if mind-boggling, reading, and illustrate an aspect of Alexandrian Wicca that is little known. In 1981, for instance, Sanders began receiving messages from the departed spirit of a woman called Mrs. Grieve, who used to live in Eastbourne, and from an ancient Egyptian called Neph Kem. The latter told him President Sadat of Egypt was the incarnation of the heretical pharaoh Ankhenaton, a historical figure who has always been popular with occultists. The ancient Egyptian said the only hope for peace in the Middle East was for Egypt to forge a political and military alliance with the then Soviet Union. Sanders wrote three times to the Egyptian president, informing him of this spirit message, and was concerned none of his letters had been received, as he had no reply! He also received messages from the Archangel Michael about the then British prime minister, Margaret Thatcher, saying she was destined to become the head of the European Union despite her fierce anti-European stance, and the French president François Mitterand, who it is now known was interested in esoteric matters (doc. ref. 1006b in MOW archive).
Later in their spirit communications, Sanders and Taylor were contacted by entities calling themselves the “Sons of God,” the “Children of the Stars,” or the “Cupbearers of Ganymede.” These were allegedly occupants of UFOs from other galaxies stationed in our solar system, specifically on a base on one of Jupiter’s moons. The messages received from these extraterrestrial sources reflected those also given to UFO abductees at the time. The two men were advised Earth faced a global disaster in the future. Before it occurred, the human race would be taken to a previously unknown planet in the solar system called Gea that was being prepared by the alien saviors.
In October 1986, an entity called Mentha began communicating from the constellation of Hercules. It claimed to be the commander of two million (space?) ships and was on a mission to Earth to “break down the mental barriers between the United States of Soviet Russia [sic] and the United States of America.” It also said its task was “to protect the Cosmological Empires against the damagement [sic] of the conservation of energies of our Galaxies through the experiments of humanity” (doc. 1012a in MOW archives). Other alien contacts apart from Mentha included an entity saying it was the ruler of Callisto, another Jovian moon.
Most of the messages received by Alex Sanders and Derek Taylor were of a political nature. On one occasion a spirit speaking through Sanders warned that King Juan Carlos of Spain was in imminent danger from left-wing forces plotting to overthrow the monarchy and establish a dictatorship. Sanders was also told of an assassination attempt on President Ronald Reagan, the possibility of letter bombs being sent to Members of the British Parliament, and future wars over the supply of oil. Derek Taylor sent a copy of the trance workings to his local MP in May 1984, but there is no record he got a reply. He also wrote to the president of Argentina, warning him of a possible coup.
Meanwhile Maxine Sanders was also taking Alexandrian Wicca in a new direction under the influence of her new High Priest, David Goddard, who was a ceremonial magician and Cabbalist. She had become interested in the teachings of the Liberal Catholic Church, an unorthodox Christian offshoot of the Theosophical Society, and Goddard had been ordained in its priesthood. Maxine Sanders decided to subscribe to a correspondence course on the Cabbala established by the American occultist Paul Foster Case (1884–1956) and still run by his magic group, the Builders of the Adytum (BOTA). As a result she and Goddard started a ceremonial magic group as an adjunct to the coven. Its members included a retired accountant, the wife of a Cambridge University lecturer, a police officer, and a ladies’ hairdresser (Maxine Sanders 2008: 260–261).
Maxine claimed that, despite his letter of public apology published in The Cauldron, her ex-husband was still “using his title ‘King of the Witches’ in a way that offended other witches, craved publicity, and was telling ridiculous stories to satisfy his ego.” She claimed that while originally his symbiotic relationship with the press was designed to open up the Craft to a wider audience, it now “served merely to shore up his own desperate monomania.” Because the articles that were still appearing in the newspapers about the King of the Witches were undoing the previous good work of the 1960s and 1970s (which seems unlikely considering their content), the mysterious Council of Elders decided to take drastic action. A meeting was convened of representatives from different covens, and it was decided to undo the rite of kingship granted to Sanders in 1969. He was not informed of this event, although a couple of days later he told Maxine he felt he had been released from a great burden (Ibid., 261).
When Sanders moved to Sussex in the 1970s, he became a serious drinker of the spirit Pernod and then brandy mixed with white wine. He was also a heavy smoker, so it was not really surprising in 1986 when he was diagnosed with cancer. Along with the illness came remorse, and when Sanders realized he was dying he wrote a letter to “Lady Veda,” Maxine’s witch name, saying he was still a chauvinist pig and would always be one. However, he hoped that, as the representative of the Goddess on Earth, she would continue the ceremonies, and if she did there would be a great future for Wicca. He signed the letter with his full witch name “Verbius Alexander Rex” (Ibid., 262).
By late 1987, Sanders’ illness had become worse, forcing him to undergo radiotherapy treatment for the spreading cancer. At first he was looked after by a private nurse arranged by Maxine, and then towards the close of his life he entered a nursing home. Finally he had to be moved to hospital where he passed to spirit in the early hours of April 30 (Beltane Eve), 1988. He named Maxine as his next-of-kin, which meant she was responsible for the funeral. He had died insolvent, so his friends and coven rallied around to pay for it. At first Maxine wanted David Goddard to officiate at it in his position as a Liberal Catholic priest. Unfortunately his bishop refused permission as he did not want adverse publicity attracted to the Church (Ibid., 280).
In the end, the funeral service was carried out by a priestess of the Craft, Victoria Lester (witch name “Aislynn”), who was also a Christian, and organized by Seldy Bate and Nigel Bourne (no relation to Lois Bourne), two leading Alexandrian witches from South London. Doreen Valiente described it a “dignified and moving ceremony, although some witches found it a curious mingling of pagan, Christian and Qabalistic elements” (1989: 176). It included a reading from the Old Testament Book of Proverbs, which was one of Alex Sanders’ favorite biblical passages. Maxine Sanders admitted that the officiant at the service “got carried away,” and some of the witches present thought it was far too Christian in tone (2008: 281).
About a hundred witches from all over Britain attended the funeral at Hastings crematorium, where forty-two years before Aleister Crowley had been cremated following a service inaccurately described by the press as a “Black Mass.” In fact it was an extract from Crowley’s Gnostic Mass. A national newspaper report before Sanders’ funeral claimed witches from all over the world would be attending. In fact, to the relief of many of Alexandrians, the media largely ignored the event. The local paper The Brighton Evening Argus did publish a small report headlined “No Tears as Witch is laid to Rest.” The headline was based on a comment made by Maxine Sanders that witches never cry when someone dies because they believe in reincarnation. She was described in the article as the ‘“Witch Queen Emeritus,” and was quoted as saying there would be no “prancing around naked” at the funeral service, which must have been a great relief to the crematorium owners.
The newspaper also picked up on the thorny question of succession within the Alexandrian tradition to the position of witch king, despite the fact the Council of Elders had stripped Sanders of the title before his death so it could not be passed on. Maxine Sanders said that Derek Taylor, whom she described as “a publicity seeker,” had already alerted the press to the story. He told the newspapers he favored Alex and Maxine’s fifteen-year-old son, Victor, for the role, and this was confirmed by a spirit message. One press report said the new “King of the Witches” would hold dominion over thousands of witches all over the world,” and added other rival candidates were ready and waiting to “throw their pointed hats into the circle” (Ibid.).
Maxine Sanders disagreed with Taylor and did not want her son involved. She told Victor, who was quite excited about the prospect, it would be “an empty title created to satisfy the sycophantic egotists who were close to Alex, and wanted to glory in his faded light.” A press statement was eventually issued by Seldy Bate and Nigel Bourne on Maxine’s behalf (the Council of Elders having apparently vanished from the scene). This statement announced there would be no King of the Witches appointed in the foreseeable future, and in fact the position has never been filled (2008: 282).
Only a few days before his death, Alex Sanders was visited in his nursing home by a self-styled witch named Kevin Carlyon and his then partner. Drugged on morphine-based painkillers, unable to concentrate or speak properly because he was out of breath, Sanders gave an interview to Carlyon, which he tape-recorded and later sold as an audio cassette for commercial gain. Maxine Sanders described the tapes as “unkind, unedited, and in extremely bad taste.” In her opinion the only reason for selling them was an “act of greed” (Ibid.).
Kevin Carlyon was already a well-known media witch and had set up his own organization called The Covenant of Earth Magic. Like many before him, Carlyon claimed he had hundreds of covens and followers. In the 1980s and 1990s he was involved in a number of high-profile publicity stunts that kept his name in the papers. These included putting a spell on the then British Rail in an attempt to stop them moving the proposed route of the rail link from London to the Channel Tunnel near a prehistoric burial chamber in Kent. In 1990 in another magical working, Carlyon and his coven burned effigies of British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, their local MP, and the local mayor. This ritual was carried at a site above the Long Man of Wilmington hill figure, used by many Wiccans and traditional witches and where Maxine Sanders had scattered Alex’s ashes. The media eventually tired of Kevin Carlyon’s publicity-seeking antics and began to ignore him.
Derek Taylor attempted to prolong his teacher’s magical work with trance and spirit communication. He also continued the magical work of the Ordine Della Nova with a small group of friends. Allegedly, he amazed everyone he met with his extraordinary psychic abilities and was supposed to have been employed by the British Secret Service to take part in “remote viewing” experiments. After his marriage broke up, Taylor became more reclusive, and he eventually committed suicide. The circumstances are shrouded in mystery, but it is supposed to have happened during a ritual on a Sussex beach with a man called Robert Truelove. He told police Taylor had seen a UFO mother ship out at sea and waded into the waves in an attempt to reach it. However the current was too strong, and he was swept away and drowned. The police regarded his death as suspicious, but no charges were ever brought in connection with it.
Oddly enough, Maxine Sanders has described how late one night, while in a depressed state Alex had gone down to the beach in Bexhill. Despite the fact he could not swim, he had walked into the sea. The waters closed over his head and an undercurrent carried him away from shore until he lost consciousness. He came to, lying on the beach at dawn, covered in seaweed and pieces of driftwood. Alex remarked to Maxine: “Even the sea rejected me and spat me out” (2008: 235).
At the end of the 1980s, the first book to examine Wicca in Britain from an anthropological prospective was published. This was Persuasions of the Witch’s Craft: Ritual Magic and Witchcraft in Present-Day England by Tanya Luhrmann (1989), and it provided a snapshot of the Wiccan community as it was at the time, primarily in the London area, and its overlap with ritual magic and other neopagan traditions. Dr. Lurhmann was an American academic who graduated in 1981 from Harvard and then gained a Master of Philosophy degree at Cambridge University and her PhD in 1989. When she wrote the book she was a senior research fellow at Christ’s College, Cambridge.
The roots of the book lay in a doctoral thesis on social anthropology. It was controversial because she had gone undercover, joining various Wiccan covens and magical groups and socializing with their members. She conducted interviews with her subjects, read books, became initiated, learned how to read tarot cards and astrological birth charts, and even led rituals (Luhrmann 1989: 17). However, Dr. Lurhmann upset many practitioners by her unsympathetic approach. She said she was interested in the witchcraft revival and why some people got involved in it rather than others, and the reason that allows them to “accept outlandish, apparently irrational, beliefs” (Ibid., 7). Despite her practical experiences in covens and lodges, she seems to have remained a skeptic about the reality of the magic.
Although pseudonyms were used throughout the book, anyone involved in the London occult scene or further afield would have instantly recognized those described. Dr. Luhrmann’s first contact was Jean Williams (aka Elen Williams) and her partner Zachary Cox, who were described as leading “the oldest coven in England, having inherited it from the man who essentially created witchcraft as it is practiced in this country” (Ibid., 21). Williams and Cox were also involved in a Cabbalistic group practicing the Western Mysteries, ran the Neopantheist Society and the Rainbow Bridge, and organized private performances of Crowley’s Gnostic Mass for invited guests. They also published a radical and controversial occult magazine, Aquarian Arrow, in the 1970s and 1980s. Williams is still active in the Pagan Federation London branch today. Another of Dr. Luhrmann’s early contacts was Freya Aswynn, a Dutch woman. She is now best known for her books on the Norse runes, but in the 1980s she was the High Priestess of a Wiccan coven.
It is obvious from Dr. Luhrmann’s research and experiences that at the time there was a considerable overlap between the membership of Wiccan covens and ceremonial magical lodges in the British capital. She also encountered some covens that “emphasize creativity and collectivity, values commonly found in that political perspective, and their rituals are quite different from those in Gardnerian groups” (Ibid., 52). She described one ritual at a prehistoric burial chamber known as the Coldrum Stones in Kent attended by fifteen women. One of them was delegated to draw up the basic outline of the ritual and admitted she had “cobbled together something from Starhawk and Z. Budapest.” This site was also popular with Gardnerian covens, as it was in the countryside within easy reach of the city.
An important aspect of Dr. Luhrmann’s anthropological research survey was the social status and personality traits of the modern practitioners of witchcraft and ritual magic she encountered. This was an aspect that was also taken up by later academics exploring the subject. She soon discovered that the claims by some sociologists that people were drawn to marginal groups because of socio-economic factors was not correct in the case of Wicca. However she was able to identify and isolate certain basic emotional tendencies among its practitioners. These included imaginative absorption and a desire for self-control and to dominate and control the world around them. There was also a possible regression to a child-like state involving dreams and fantasy. One witch whom Dr. Lurhmann met seemed to exist in her own self-contained imaginative inner world that was a “narcissistic reality distanced from the pragmatics of the world around her” (Ibid., 103–104). However, she did concede that the majority of Wiccans she knew were creative, intelligent people from middle-class social backgrounds who held down responsible jobs.
Although Dr. Tanya Luhrmann’s research into Wicca in the 1980s was mostly based on covens, she recognized that the majority of people who described themselves as witches were solitary or solo practitioners. Many of the old-guard Gardnerians firmly believed a witch could only be made by another witch. They rejected the idea of hereditary witches or the controversial issue of so-called self-initiation, or more correctly with self-dedication. Doreen Valiente, as in many things, broke the mold and defied this view when she published her Liber Umbranum: A Book of Shadows in 1978. This was a set of rituals specifically designed for the solo witch and included “The Rite of Self-Initiation” (1978: 159–163). Predictably, it was not generally welcomed or accepted by many of the more conservative members of Wicca.
In the United States, the leading exponent of solitary witchcraft in the late 1980s and 1990s was Scott Cunningham (1956–1993). Cunningham’s father, a freelance writer, taught his son the art of writing and helped him make contacts in the publishing world. Before writing his first book on magically related subjects, Magical Herbalism (Llewellyn 1982), Cunningham produced romantic novels under a female pen name, Western paperbacks as “Dick Fletcher,” and even articles for the Canadian Forest Industries magazine. However, it was not until his book Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner was published that Cunningham became established as a leading writer on the Craft.
Scott Cunningham first encountered witchcraft as a teenager while watching a television movie called Burn, Witch, Burn. In high school he met a fellow drama class student, Dorothy Jones, who at fifteen was two years older than him. She told Cunningham she was initiated into a Wiccan tradition at puberty, which seems unlikely, but may have been true. She used the witch name “Morgan,” called herself a “moon priestess,” and became Cunningham’s magical teacher after initiating him into the Craft. However, in an appendix written by Dorothy Jones in a biography of Scott Cunningham published after his death from cancer and complications from AIDS, it was revealed the two high school students only shared an intellectual friendship and an interest in herbs, which they gathered on walks together. They did not know to call themselves “pagans” until they picked up a book on the occult at a local supermarket check-out counter (Harrington and Regula 1996).
Scott Cunningham was properly initiated into several Craft traditions. In 1973, he was accepted into the Standing Stone tradition, and in 1980 became a member of the Aridian tradition, a mixture of Gardnerian Wicca and Italian witchcraft created by Raven Grimassi. A year later, he received initiation into the Reorganized Traditional Gwyddonic Order of Wicca and the Ancient Pictish Gaelic Tradition, and also became an American Traditionalist witch. He went on to write several books. His most famous book, on solitary Wicca, sold over 500,000 copies between its publication in 1988 and 2003. It has probably been responsible for introducing thousands of people all over the world to modern witchcraft.
In the United Kingdom, the recognition that most witches were solitaries led to the founding in the 1990s of the Association of Hedgewitches, named after the modern concept of a “hedgewitch,” as defined by feminist writer Rae Beth. The AHW was founded in response to a perceived need for a contact network for Wiccans and witches who were solitary practitioners, or couples working outside of the coven system. It gave those who felt isolated and just wanted to meet up with others a chance to meet like-minded individuals. Though it was specifically founded for those who preferred to work alone, as a contact organization it is open to all. Initially people writing to the AHW’s post box address in London were directed to their nearest local area coordinator, who was the main contact point for putting members in touch with each other. Some also ran local AHW meets or social get-togethers.
In 1997, it was decided to publish a magazine called The Hedgewytch to act as the public voice of the association. Today the magazine is very much a medium for solitary witches to share personal experiences and “what works for us,” rather than acting as a how-to manual. It was and still is aimed at the beginner or novice and all those just finding their way into the Craft. Over the years, as its readership has grown in experience, this caliber of learning has become reflected in its articles. As times and needs change, so has the association. Currently (2008) there are no longer any regional coordinators or specifically AHW meets. It has now downsized to a nationwide contact list open to all subscribers, with a small contacts page in the magazine.
In the late 1980s and early 1990s, many Wiccans embraced the new computer technology, taking their first steps on what was at first called the information superhighway, and entering the strange realm of cyberspace. They began using the Worldwide Web or Internet as a handy means of exchanging information, knowledge, and even gossip. It might be thought that witches and neopagans, as followers of an ancient belief system, would have been resistant to this new form of technology, but not only do they use it, many actually work in the computer industry. The Web is supposed to have originated in the 1970s when US military and intelligence agencies created a computer communications network for their own exclusive use. In fact, as far back as 1962, T. C. Lickinder of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) was appointed to the US Department of Defense’s Advanced Research Projects Agency, and put forward the idea of a pan-global computer network for accessing and exchanging data between terminals. Two years later the Rand Corporation published a report on the setting up of a computer network for military use. In the next five years research was carried out at the Stratford Research Institute, MIT, the Universities of California at Berkeley and Santa Barbara, and the University of Utah. This led to the creation of ARPANET, an electronic communications link between scientific, educational, and military establishments. Electronic mail, or e-mail, was introduced in the early 1970s and this led to “internetworking,” or the Internet, so named in 1974, and ultimately to the creation of the Worldwide Web for general use.
Despite the fact that Wiccans belong to a nature religion that honors Mother Earth, and are supposed to be traditionally anti-technology, they eagerly accepted this new form of electronic communication. Possibly this is because many of the early Wiccans were employed in the military-industrial complex and the emergent computer industry. In 1999, referring back to the early Wiccan users of the Internet, the Australian witch Fiona Horne said: “Witchcraft is evolving and one of the most magickal places to go is cyberspace, the ramifications for human communication and education contained therein are astonishing” (from “An Interview with Fiona Horne” in Panthology magazine Vol. 13 No. 1, Summer 1999). This view has been confirmed by Macha Nightmare who has said: “Witchcraft is a living, evolving spirituality—it is organic and, like any living thing, it requires nourishment. The Internet provides an endless source of sustenance—for our minds, our souls, and our spirituality” (2001: 17).
In the 1980s, Margot Adler did a survey for the second edition of her book Drawing Down the Moon that revealed many top professionals among Wiccans were computer programmers, systems analysts, and software developers. In her survey, Adler asked these professionals what the link was between computer science and the Craft. She was told that the symbolic way of thinking and patterning used in computer systems was also essential to magical thinking. There was also a belief that computers were in some way the “oracles of the future,” and provided the Craft with a new way of communicating knowledge, information, and training. Also many people attracted to Wicca were natural-born rebels, educated and highly intelligent, although often lacking in social skills and the product of dysfunctional families. They were therefore looking for alternatives to ordinary ways of communicating and normal society. The Internet with its virtual reality provided exactly what they were seeking (Adler 2006: 413–414).
Of course the terms “Worldwide Web” and “the Web” have helped Wiccans to accept this new technology more easily then they might have done otherwise. This is because on a metaphorical and symbolic level the WWW can be compared to a spider’s web woven by the spider goddess, to the “Web of Wyrd” (fate or destiny), and to the archetypal motif of spinning and weaving associated with the witch goddess. Subjects discussed on Internet forums or chat rooms also are commonly referred to as “threads.”
The concept of an electronic web traversing the planet fits neatly with neopagan beliefs about holism, the unity of humanity with nature, the oneness of spirit and matter, and the Goddess as Gaia, Terra, or Mother Earth. As one witch commented: “This medium [the Internet] is suited to witches because it is truly magical, since it is all energy. Data on a server is only bits of digital code that when sent to another computer via a phone line or satellite in an energy form is translated into something that is pleasing to the eye. What is magic but the transmission of energy from one person or thing to another?” (quoted in Nightmare 2001: 67).
The interest in and widespread use of computers by modern Wiccans and neopagans has now created the phenomenon known as “Internet pagans.” These are a new breed of computer users who are not affiliated with any specific or physical group, coven, or organization in the real world. Instead they have become online Wiccans or neopagans through membership in chat rooms, discussion forums, or as subscribers to e-zines. Some of these armchair witches even hold rituals in virtual reality temples or in cyber-worlds such as Second Life. Obviously such nonphysical activities are a contradiction of the principles of a nature religion that claim to bring its followers closer in touch with the natural environment.
In the early 2000s, the most popular website on the Internet was The Witches Voice, or Witchvox, and it still holds that position today. In 2001, it was reported the site had over 1.5 million hits and its networking and contacts section listed over 40,000 pagan and Wiccan events, groups, and stores worldwide. TWV was founded in 1996 and originated because its two founders posted three pages on the Internet for Laurie Cabot’s Witches’ League for Public Awareness. Their aim was to promote tolerance between different and differing traditions and groups and correct the misinformation relating to modern Wicca and neopaganism. In 1997, they moved to Florida where they acquired the Internet domain name Witch.Vox.com and launched the TWV website into cyberspace. Although it was founded to support the human rights and protect the civil liberties of witches, today most of its users are attracted to the site because it provides news, information, and contacts.
Although the most important and widely read Wiccan and neo-pagan magazines are still published in printed hard copy, the spread of the Internet in the first decade of the twenty-first century has led to the publication of e-zines, or electronic magazines. Some of the conventionally printed magazines also have electronic versions. In the early 2000s, the Wiccan Pagan Times (WPT) was launched as an online e-zine with a mission statement of promoting the pagan community through art, literature, and music. It was founded by a husband-and-wife team who wanted to create a place on the Internet where pagans and Wiccans could share ideas, express opinions, and disseminate information relating to all paths and traditions.
The WPT publishers said: “… we feel it our right to express our feelings and opinions on and about those things we like or dislike about the current state of affairs within the Wiccan/Pagan community. We will do this in a positive and constructive manner, so that we are fostering growth and learning within our respective communities’” (quoted in Nightmare 2001: 125). While these are worthy sentiments, in practice there has always been a downside to the expression of strongly held opinions and feelings on discussion forums and e-zines. The negative aspect of the new medium is so-called flaming, or personal attacks. These have become a new weapon in the armory of the combatants in the so-called “witch wars” raging on the Internet between individuals, groups, and traditions. Another less-than-positive aspect of the Internet is the amount of misinformation that is circulated, and also the opportunity it gives to pretenders and imposters to promote their cause and spread disinformation to a receptive global audience.