Some people say he can’t exist, or, when confronted with the reality of his presence—and remember that even a small god is still a god, better not provoked with statements such as “you’re a shit divinity, aren’t you?” or “you don’t exist, you can’t possibly be real”—that his believers are misguided about their own existence. He doesn’t take kindly to any of these things, but his ability to take revenge is limited by the shape and scope of his portfolio, which he loves too wildly and too well to ever set aside, even for the sake of blackening a few eyes.
Blitzkrieg Bob is the patron and god of suburban punks and mall goths, frustrated teens seeking something to rebel against and grown adults finding themselves in new subcultures well past the age when they’d been written off as unremarkable, serene. He guides the hands that select the bottle of Manic Panic and the shears, and if he doesn’t always guarantee those things are paid for, well. He’s happy to stick it to any Man available, even the ones who can’t afford another injury.
(Penny Ante, small god of local businesses and community support, wishes he would enforce certain commandments more strictly on his followers. He understands her concern—some of hers are also some of his, or were once, or will be eventually—but punk is about breaking rules, and the more rules he sets before his faithful, the more they will rebel.)
He doesn’t care if their nail polish is blotchy or their music is secondhand or their stompy boots aren’t quite fitted to their feet. He cares about their hearts, and the passion he finds sleeping there. Punk and goth are their combinations are sacred things, and he allows no gatekeepers, no barriers between his faithful and his word and their holy, hurting hearts.
[image description: A dark portrait of a young person inside a dark stone frame. Their long sallow face is framed by long unkempt black hair. They wear wide oval glasses and a sneer. Barely visible in the background, a sign that might read ‘OMFUG’ (which might, in turn, stand for ‘Other Music for Uplifting Gormandizers’). Text reads, “#103 Blitzkreig Bob – Small God of Suburban Punks.”]
Artist Lee Moyer (13th Age, Cursed Court) and author Seanan McGuire (Middlegame, Every Heart a Doorway) have joined forces to bring you icons and stories of the small deities who manage our modern world, from the God of Social Distancing to the God of Finding a Parking Space.
Join in each week on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for a guide to the many tiny divinities: