Back in March of 2014, Kenny Klein, a “pagan leader” I’d once promoted through my shop, fell from grace in a most horrible manner: he was arrested on 20 counts of possession and distribution of the worst sort of child pornography. For a brief time, Kenny was my teacher, too, so this hit me really hard. I think it was fair to have once called him a “Big Name Pagan,” but now it is fair to call him a monster. As of April 6, 2017, a jury of his peers decided he is also a felon, returning with a verdict of GUILTY ON ALL COUNTS. He was remanded into custody. Sentencing will happen on April, 20.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen!
After so many years, he is finally paying for his crimes. But in the court of public opinion, he was long ago damned, thrown down from Olympus like the hideous beast that he is, and feasted upon by the eagles of moral outrage, and good riddance.
When a priest of the Wicca is suddenly, devastatingly, and absolutely ruined on all levels, I don’t need a jury to inform me of his wrong-doing. His gods took him down, so I assume he’s broken his vows and he’s getting exactly what he deserves. I wrote about that here: Smote by the Old Gods: Kenny Klein gets his Day in Court.
Sadly, the selfish tarnish of his harm sullied the reputation of all the good people in his Blue Star Coven. All the helpful books he wrote, like The Flower Rod, will no longer be printed, or so his publishers have said. The beautiful priestesses he helped to guide toward the taking of their own vows of service, had to have felt this sting of betrayal most bitterly. My spirit wept for them, because they are skilled, amazing and doing The Work with great respectability.
We are all interconnected; he was the weak link, and he let everyone down. The pain of his victims aside, I can’t even imagine how the folks down-line from him are mourning right now, because that sort of initiation links everyone to their mutual egregore of power. These evil doings are tantamount to him shitting their collective bed. How could he put everyone he loves, and who loved him, at such terrible risk?
During the opening day of his trial, it was presented that in a phone call after arrest: “Klein tells a woman, ‘I’m sorry for all this.’ When she asks what he was arrested for, Klein replies, ‘For having underage pornography on my computer, which you warned me about. … I feel ashamed because I love you and I screwed things up.'” source
I assume that “the woman” is his lovely partner, whom I once considered a friend. Damn right he should feel ashamed! This makes me furious.
Scandal and Pitchforks
When the news first broke in 2014, it was the scandal of the thing that upset me at the time. It was all still “alleged” and actual facts were hard to discern from the reactionary vitriol. “Innocent until proven guilty,” and all that, so I tried to hold the space and not get trampled by the mob of pitchfork wielding pagans that happened next.
Yet, I was reeling in shock and confusion like everyone else–I’d had no idea about all those previous accusations in the 90’s. That morning, I wrote this poem that I’ve included below. That was years ago, but this week his trial began, and all the horrific facts and legal arguments are now thrust into the light of day. GUILTY! There is so very much to be angry about. Where, oh where, did I put my pitchfork!
This one line from my poem keeps repeating in my mind…as though this is the message from my guides on how to transmute this horror into right action for the future:
“Eyes wide; there are things of which we did not speak.
Jaws slack; glaring vision screams to peak.”
When the mighty, the powerful, the clergy, are viewed through the hazy, veiled glamour of fame, it can obscure the monstrous truth. Let’s all pay better attention, OK? Let’s all hold the priest/esshood to the highest standards of ethical conduct. Just as importantly, lets hold all our political leaders–anyone with a podium and a spotlight–to those same high standards.
Then let’s all agree to stand up, speak up, and give the voices of those who are victimized by monsters like Kenny our full attention. I vote that we start by listening to the women currently charging Bill O’Reilly and Donald Trump.
Score one for justice!
by Heron Michelle
The veils fall, foul and torn,
no silken glamour now to guise
your unsavory demise.
there are things of which we did not speak.
glaring vision screams to peak.
Knowings, sharp as scalpels,
cut into our deeps,
dragging out our precious innocence,
birthed awake into this raw light.
We are all exposed, ripped,
bloody and wailing of our discontent,
howls slice the chill of this new viewing.
Smacked hard to gasping,
we crave so desperately the teat and swaddle,
familiar succor of long-loved delusions
that are no more.
Sins of the father damn all his children.
Orphans now, cast down,
left to die by the road,
exposed for their mutation and
No gods will save them now,
no charm, no fame enough
to shield the unholy shame
carved now so deeply into his name.
Scrutinous eagles pick clean their bones.
The way we came is closed;
no dreams would have us now.
Cries of the mourners remain,
forlorn echoes of crimes
that can be neither buried,