My Holy Guardian Angel: Part I

Source: Google Images

How to write about my Holy Guardian Angel? There’s so much I could say about a being I have known for over a year now and whom I speak to almost every day. I’ll just start.

First of all there are those out there who believe that Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel can only be achieved by successfully completing the arduous rites in the Book of Abramelin. That, if you don’t make contact that way, then you have not made contact with your Holy Guardian Angel but with something else. Then there are the rites in the Greek Magical Papyri (more commonly known as the PGM for Papyri Graecae Magicae) for making contact with one’s paredros, or supernatural assistant. How to tell one entity from the other? —In my opinion and not just in my opinion the paredros or supernatural assistant and the Holy Guardian Angel are ontologically identical. Can I prove it? No. Can I change the minds of those who think otherwise? No. It’s just what I believe and have been told by the spirits and by practitioners whose judgment I implicitly trust. On the Internet debate on what is and what is not a Holy Guardian Angel is endless and tedious. If you are interested and have not made contact yourself, don’t take my word for it, google a method for making contact with your Holy Guardian Angel (hereinafter “HGA”) or buy the Book of Abramelin and do it that way and find out on your own.

But don’t undertake the task lightly. The arduous process of making contact can bring pain and even devastation to one’s life. I wish like fuck I could find the name of the book a man wrote about his harrowing journey to his HGA. The story went something like this: he lost his house, his job, his marriage, almost lost his sanity — maybe I’m exaggerating a little bit but not much. I will tell you this: I went through a hell of physical pain, seven 911 calls and visits to the emergency room, demonic trials/tests, and I almost died while all unbeknownst to me I was making contact with my HGA. As I said, don’t undertake the task lightly. Preferably attempt it while you’re young because you can more easily afford to have your life ruined while you’re young. Nota Bene: not everyone who attempts to make contact with their HGA goes through a living hell, not by a long shot, but a sizable proportion do. It probably depends on how ready you are. What do I mean by ready? I’ll attempt to explain below.

I had absolutely no intention of achieving Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel (K&CHGA). Conversation here is used in its older meaning of intimate acquaintance. I wanted nothing to do with it. My life was in shambles from divorce, sickness, etc. A friend contacted me however with a strange message. He told me that one of his spirits had told him that my meeting with Lucifer would precipitate an initiatory experience in me. This was ominous news. But — Let it come I thought, and come it did. First I got sick. I had and have bladder problems. (Sorry for the TMI.) These problems led to the seven 911 calls and visits to the emergency room and the hideous pains of spasms I lightly mentioned above. During this time I decided to abandon my journey to becoming a Quimbandeira due to financial problems and the general ruin that was already my life. All, I think, of the “demons” of the Grimorium Verum or True Grimoire have their counterparts somewhere in the hierarchies of Quimbanda. These demons did not leave me alone during my sickness. They didn’t attack me, they I believe tested me. I will only mention one case in point. Belzebuth came to me and demanded that I abandon my worship of Hekate and convert to the cultus of Santa Muerte. If I did not do so he said I would die. Divination showed me that it was indeed Belzebuth who visited me. I declined divining about my imminent death. I had of course refused to convert. I made a vow to Hekate long ago and one does not break vows to Deities nor did I have any wish to, come what may. Needless to say I did not die. This is only one example among many of these demonic trials.

An acquaintance had given me several oxycodones for my pain. One of them was so worn that it had no markings on it. I took it anyway, more’s the fool. My heart rate slowed to forty beats per minute that night. I believe that the pill was a powerful beta blocker or something of that nature. I was sick of being sick and sick of calling 911 and I refused to. I drank an entire pot of coffee in hopes that it would increase my heart rate, I lay down in my recliner, folded my hands on my chest and peacefully went to sleep. Again, needless to say, I did not die. But what I had done was achieve a sort of peace, an acceptance of the inevitable fact of death. I had made death my adviser, my friend.

I had also around this time decided I needed a familiar, believing (with good reason) that I had recently been cursed. I went about finding one in my own way a few nights later. I caused my consciousness to ascend as high into the Astral as I could manage and issued a call to any spirit who would promise to be a good and trustworthy familiar to me. And a spirit came. I won’t tell you what he looked like because it would cause eyes to roll. He promised to only speak truth and good sense to me. He gave me his name and seal. This was good enough for me and I drew his seal and lit a votive candle and placed it atop it as an empowerment and a ritual offering. Of course I won’t share his name or his seal. He turned out to be my HGA although I did not know this at the time.

Some stuff happened with him that I don’t want to go into. Be it sealed. But slowly my “familiar’s” form began to change for the more and more beautiful. He didn’t look human or even humanoid but he as told became beautiful. One night at the suggestion of a friend I asked him if he was my HGA. He affirmed that he was my Holy Guardian Angel and suddenly changed into a beautiful human man with golden skin and white wings. He has retained this form by and large ever since.

So what had happened? How did I attain K&CHGA unintentionally? Remember above that my friend said my meeting with Lucifer would precipitate an initiatory experience for me. I believe that the experience that meeting Lucifer brought about was my K&CHGA ordeal. The Abramelin ritual is often called an ordeal, and I certainly went through ordeals, so I’ll use the word. But why would Lucifer of all beings do such a thing? Interesting question.

In Quimbanda Lucifer and Satan are regarded as one being. If you meet the Lucifer “face” he is intent upon your (and his own) spiritual elevation and progress towards enlightenment. He is the Lightbearer and the Morningstar after all. If you meet the Satan “face” he will prey upon your greed, lust, anger — all your vices — and strive to turn you into an evil ruin of a human being. It all depends on how worthy you are in his eyes. And by “how worthy” I mean how ready you are for spiritual elevation and the journey towards enlightenment. I believe the initiatory experience my friend warned me of was Lucifer’s precipitating my journey towards K&CHGA. And I certainly did not undertake this travel and travail ritually as most do. I’ve detailed at probably too much length above the pains and the ultimate peace of mind I suffered and achieved instead of doing it ritually. I did it old school in other words, as a Twitter friend and magus phrased it.

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I don’t want this article to become TL;DR and plus I need a nap. So I’ll be writing something like What Good Is A Holy Guardian Angel Anyway? in Part II in the very near future.

Much love — Rachel Izabella

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Update On My First Performance of the Imprecatory Psalms Rite

First of all you read that right. Last night was only my first performance of the rite of imprecatory Psalms against the plague-on-toast transphobe I wrote about yesterday and against whom I devised the rite with a little help from a friend (cough—Michael Strojan—cough). I plan to do this rite until, well, I don’t feel like doing it any more. Say, at least a week, and knowing me I’ll miss a night or two. It’s the way I roll. Sometimes the Black Dog or the Mammoth catch up to me and leave me rather helpless. And that’s just got to be OK.

The first hitch in the rite was that I could not find any incense charcoal, none, anywhere, and I turned the place upside down looking for some. —Oh well, I improvised. I chose a purple candle, blessed it and filled it with clear Azoth as taught by Jason Miller in his Strategic Sorcery Course, anointed it with Van Van Oil, said a prayer to Iao Sabaoth and a rather longer one to the Master Yeshua, and lit the candle. During the prayers I pointed to a picture of the offender (please see the relevant post because I want to avoid his name — all publicity is good publicity they say) and asked that all the imprecations in all the Psalms I was about to enunciate be visited upon him.

You may wonder why I chose a royal colored candle and a blessing oil like Van Van in a curse. The reason is simple: I chose those items as a small sacrifice to Iao Sabaoth and the Master Yeshua and not as part of the curse. End of story.

The second hitch was that my voice got tired. I was croaking out the Psalms by the end. Except 109. I managed to enunciate that one really well because it is truly full of damnation. I need to practice which pitch I speak at, how loudly I speak, etc., etc. —It’s not easy being a trans woman sometimes. After almost four years of transition I haven’t yet figured out yet how properly to enounce magickal phrases, and never mind vibrating voces magicae. Embarrassing but true. Practice however will make perfect.

The following wasn’t a hitch but a change. I had the urge to perform the rite at the Great Hour, which in Quimbanda-speak means the midnight hour. I’m a big fan of nighttime and am particularly fond of the Great Hour. It was just a whim but I felt, I think, that I performed the rite more successfully at that time than I could have at any other hour.

During the incantation of the Psalms I felt a distinct and strong energy flowing through my body, concentrated in the Fire Center which is just below the navel. I don’t know what that means but I kind of took it as a good sign.

Lastly, I believe that one mere repetition of the Psalms will not be enough to overcome the power of the egregore protecting the piece of shit in question. Hence I’m going to attempt, I repeat attempt, seven repetitions at least.

Really lastly, it would be great if some of my readers would join me in the rite, whenever you want and however you want to modify it. The more of us doing it the more power we bring to bear against the noxious egregore that this so-called pastor worships in a hideous symbiotic relationship.

Much love to all my readers — Rachel Izabella

Let’s Curse A Transphobic Preacher [EDITED]

[EDIT: I am quoting him without permission here but I don’t think he would mind. A Facebook friend of mine shared this article on his timeline and had this to say about it:

To turn another cheek is a valuable lesson in self-assertion, not some pacifist acceptance of persecution. In a very real way, it’s the ultimate insult to those who persecute you – a proverbial “come at me, brah”. I don’t encourage cursing except in extremis or when something could adversely affect marginalized populations. This is a wonderful analysis of ethical cursing.

This made me proud because he’s a wonderful guy, a scholar and a gentleman, and a true magus. /EDIT]

I am about to embark on my first small mission to try and change the world.

There is a video on YouTube that is actually called Pastor Stephen Anderson Wants Caitlyn Jenner To Die, Because God’s Love.

And here is an article about it from Addicting Info. And here is a freaking unbelievably wicked and vicious transphobic quote of Pastor Stephen’s from the article:

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“I’m going to pray that he [Caitlyn Jenner] dies and goes to Hell. Are you serious? Look, I have nothing but hate — when I see a man dressed up as a woman, who has mutilated his body to become a woman, and say ‘Hey, look at me everybody. Look at me kids!’ I mean, the kids in America today — 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 10 years old are seeing this freak and having their minds perverted and ruined permanently. Listen to me, I hate him with a perfect hatred. I have no love — NO LOVE — for this Bruce [Caitlyn] freak. I hope he dies today. I hope he dies and goes to Hell. He’s disgusting, he’s filthy, he’s reprobate. I would pray all these prayers in Psalm 69. I would pray all this in Psalm 69 and 129 toward him.”
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Emphases and corrections are mine. The misgendering of Caitlyn Jenner is so rampant that corrections would be intrusive. A man who considers himself a Christian has NO LOVE for Caitlyn Jenner. This same man claims to follow the so-called Man-God Jesus Christ who said Love thy neighbor and when asked Who is my neighbor answered in a parableEveryone. Stephen Anderson is no Christian. The “God” he prays to is no God (more on that below). And he has publicly announced his intention to pray Psalms to his “God” that Caitlyn Jenner’s heart will be ripped out by said “God”.

I am a trans woman myself, as every reader of this blog knows. For all I know somebody out there may be doing such Psalm magick on me. People here puts roots (pronounced ruts) on each other all the time. And yes, in case you were wondering, in my view prayer is magick. Pastor Stephen Anderson is going to or probably already has engaged in an act of harmful magick. This is how it works. You ask a spirit of sufficient power and the right propensities for something and often it is done. Or  in this man’s case  he asks a powerful egregore for something and often it is done. And an egregore is all that this man’s “God” is in my not so humble opinion. And finally, some words and names and combinations of words have real Power behind them, no matter who says them. The Psalms are just such combinations of words. They are dangerous in the wrong hands. Let us now begin to put the Psalms to use in the right hands.

But let’s return to to Caitlyn Jenner and to egregores (what the fuck is an egregore?)… Firstly, no matter what your views on Caitlyn Jenner are, I sincerely hope that if you’re reading this blog article you believe she has the right to live. Psalm magic as I have said above is powerful. Psalms prayed by a man fueled by the egregore that is the Evangelicals’ “God” have a lot of power. Although his “God” is no God the entity he is praying to has a lot of power, being first created and then constantly energized by the belief and prayers of its faithful. Secondly, that, my friends, is just one kind of egregore.

Somehow I doubt that Anderson’s prayer magick will actually kill Caitlyn Jenner but why take the risk?

And why stop at Caitlyn Jenner? Why not direct some Psalm magick at Pastor Stephen Anderson himself? He’s vile scum who deserves the worst that we practitioners can hurl at him.

A dear friend of mine, Michael Strojan (I won’t link to his Facebook timeline here without his permission), has this to say: “Oh, dear sister, why limit yourself to two [Psalms]? I have fourteen: 5, 10, 17, 35, 58, 59, 69, 70, 79, 83, 109, 129, 137, 140; these, my sister, are the imprecatory Psalms and unleash a whirlwind of damnation.”

I am about to call upon the Master Yeshua, as I call him, a great mage and a Mighty Dead now living with the Gods, to empower my incantation of the Psalms that Michael has so kindly provided me with. Believe it or not — I don’t really give a shit — I was once practicing the Catholic technique called Centering Prayer (I really need to write an article on Centering Prayer as its esoteric uses are many and amazing) and meditating silently in my head on the name Yeshua … Yeshuah …And he came to me in a vision and said: Call on me in prayer and I will answer. He hasn’t failed me yet.

Nota Bene: I am not a Christian. But I’m not a devotee of Bes or Osiris or Set-Typhon and I am not afraid to perform the Stele of Jeu, better known as the Headless Rite or the Rite of the Bornless One. A God is a God and if the correct words and intentions and offerings are used the God will (often) answer. As a “hard polytheist”, if I absolutely must classify myself spiritually, I do not believe most Gods are jealous. I do not believe that Iao Sabaoth, better knows as Yahweh or simply the LORD, is a jealous God, despite His (or rather His editors’) protestations to the contrary. Many of my magickal friends consider themselves Christians or some variant of Christian and they work with other Gods and spirits and have no problems with Iao Sabaoth whatsoever. If you are afraid of the Bible, the Psalms, God or “God”, or anything Christian, then you are no magician, witch, or sorcerer in my opinion. Get over it. Now.

After I check that all the links are working and there are only a few typos in this article I plan to pray each of these Psalms against the abominable transphobe named above and hereafter. I shall light some frankincense in honor of Iao Sabaoth and the Mighty Dead the Master Yeshua. I shall pray to the Master Yeshua to condemn Pastor Stephen Anderson to suffer all the imprecations in these powerful works of magick. If you wish to emulate me in my magick against Anderson, in whatever adaptation you choose, below are links to the King James Version of the aforementioned Psalms  whirlwinds of damnation.

Psalm 5

Psalm 10

Psalm 17

Psalm 35

Psalm 58

Psalm 59

Psalm 69

Psalm 70

Psalm 79

Psalm 83

Psalm 109

Psalm 129

Psalm 137

Psalm 140

Why Selling Your Soul Is A Bad Idea

Faust - The Devil
From Murnau’s Faust
Courtesy of Google Images

Why do I even need to write about this topic? Isn’t it obvious that selling your soul to some entity who would engage in such a sleazy deal is a bad idea? Me, I’d say, It’s as obvious as Hell!

Also isn’t it possible that a psychopomp — Hekate or Hermes Chthonios or Libitina, Uriel or Azrael, inter alios — would intervene and put a halt to such shenanigans? One can only pray about that. —Because that, I fear, is far from obvious to me. Be it on your own head might be the last words you hear before ages of horrid astral servitude. Maybe. I honestly doubt that a psychopomp would interfere with your choices and deals. So for the purposes of this blog entry I’m going to assume that it is indeed possible to sell your soul simply because maybe it’s possible.

So — people want to sell their souls and for some reason they ask me for help in doing so. Actually it’s mostly because of my posts on Baphomet, who strangely enough I believe is not Satanic whatsoever, nor interested in purchasing your soul, but rather an exalted Entity of wisdom, equilibrium, and the Great Work — why can’t some people actually read?! So I’m writing this to tell you why selling your soul to any entity is unwise in the extreme. Let me say that more strongly — selling your soul is a fucking stupid thing to do. And I’ll tell you why based solely on my personal experiences and on hopefully logical conjectures based thereon.

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The soul is nothing but an astral construct, simply and bluntly put. It exists in the upper astral level of the multiverse. As such it is subject to all the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune that rule in the astral. The upper astral is not the chaotic maze of psychic mirrors that the lower astral is, but it’s still a dangerous place. If you’ve ever created an astral construct yourself or even an artificial spirit, AKA a servitor, then you know that you can alter or destroy it on a whim. But wait — What’s an astral construct? you might be wondering. Or maybe even What is this New Age “astral” bullshit?

One can describe the more and more “subtle” or “hard to perceive” levels of reality in dozens or hundreds of different ways, but this is my way. The astral plane or level is not somewhere else. It’s right here, right now, all around you and in you, just as the physical plane is all around you and in you. The physical body is what everybody perceives. Next, just by being told you have one, you can easily learn to feel and use your energy body (also called the etheric or chi body, etc., etc.), which is the next “subtler” or “harder to perceive” part of you. Next you have an astral body. Most everything has an astral body, as far as I can tell, maybe even everything there is. —You don’t have to believe any of this stuff, by the way. It’s just one possible description out of many. But without much trouble at all you can experience these things directly for yourself. Even make up your own names for them. Give it a try, maybe even, before you tell me it’s all bullshit, if you’re so inclined. I dare you to try it, if you haven’t already, as most of you reading this probably already have done…

Anyways, an astral construct is something made purely of astral “stuff”. It’s not hard to make astral constructs yourself, with some practice. Visualization skills help too. (I suck at visualization, but even I can do this.)

And as I said above the soul is basically just an astral construct, albeit a very complex one, “soul” here meaning your personality, memories, et al. Your soul disintegrates some time after death — usually. But fortunately there is more to you than your soul — “bodies” that exist on the planes subtler and harder to perceive than the astral. I suspect the Mental or Intellectual bodies and the even subtler ones are eternal. But that’s just an opinion. The soul however is definitely not eternal, nor should it be. Why not? Restless ghosts, angry ghosts, vampiric spirits — these are examples of souls that have lived past their time. Souls that get trapped in the multitude of hellish realms on the astral plane are another example, as well as souls that simply wander or are stuck in the bardo, or, as I personally call it, the In Between. Would you like to become one of those? No, I didn’t think so.

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So if, say, being trapped in the In Between is bad, then how much worse would it be to become a slave to an unpleasant, noxious entity such as Malphas? I do not believe the soul would remain in such slavery for all eternity — souls are much too fragile to last eternally. But to be such a wretched slave for perhaps hundreds or thousands of years? That may well be all too possible. To suffer unbearably for hundreds or thousands of years in exchange for temporal power in the here and now, in this lifetime only? That, dear friends, is what’s fucking stupid. There are other paths to power in this world. If it’s simply power you crave, become a politician. If it’s prestige, why not a surgeon? If you dig magic, learn magic. You do not need to sell your soul. No matter how bad your situation, trust me on this one, do something else besides selling your soul. It’s the sort of bargain a drug addict would make — selling their bodies for sex, for example, in order to get their next fix, and their high will be gone by morning. It’s not worth it. Fucking stupid…

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Above I mentioned that I would base my assertions on personal experiences and on conjectures based on personal experience. So where’s the personal experience here? I guess it’s time to get personal here on my little blog (as if that were something new…).

First, I’ve experienced the energetic and astral levels of existence firsthand. Also I’ve made intelligent artificial spirits and I have destroyed them when their jobs were complete. And in trance or ritual I can see and converse with spirits of various kinds. I wish I could see spirits in so-called normal consciousness, but I’m just not that good. Yet.

Second, I have Crossed the Lethe, as Roy Bowers AKA Robert Cochrane called it, meaning I have remembered past lives. Not only did I remember past lives, I remembered my times in the In Between. The last time was not pleasant. I will not go into details about it, but it was in fact most extremely unpleasant.

Why is this any different from people who claim to remember having been Princesses of Atlantis? Maybe it’s not, but my experience of remembering backwards convinced me at least. For one thing, it was involuntary. I was minding my own business with no thought of past lives when suddenly I started remembering backwards. I fought against it. I could not stop it. When I began remembering being a tiny baby, approaching my birth, I strove to kick and scream my way out of the trance that had somehow fallen upon me. It didn’t work. Instead I slumped over and lost all consciousness of my body. And the backward remembering went on.

So this I believe was something that was done to me, or perhaps given to me would be a better way of putting it. Why does that make the experience any more trustworthy? Because of how much the experience helped me understand myself as a person and understand my entire life. My remembering had great explanatory power and helped me get past certain issues that had always troubled me. I doubt a lying entity or a trickster would give me such a gift. So I accept it as true — or rather as very probably a genuine remembrance.

And, as I said, my last experience of the In Between was hellish. I imagine those trapped in the In Between could have far worse experiences than I did, almost infinitely worse, and mine were pretty bad.

So, please folks, don’t go there. Forget about selling your soul. Let nature take its course. Stand on your own two feet and take control of your own life. Don’t sell your soul.

And don’t ask me how to do it anymore, or beg for my help in doing it. I mean, that’s just pathetic, you guys.

A Confusion Spell — With Some Influence Thrown In

De_Morgan_Medea

“First confusion, then influence, then domination.” —Rachel Izabella

I’ve never yet needed to escalate all the way to domination. Just the first two — confusion and influence combined — have sufficed for me thus far, when somebody was giving me shit. Here’s a spell I’ve used to great effect to achieve precisely those two. Somebody out there may be making your life Hell, and this spell just might fix that for you. Somebody may be in such need — but not want to cast a curse. Generally you don’t need to. Confusion and influence together make for a powerful combination. —Here it is. It’s really simple.

First you need a magical link to the person you want to confuse and influence. In Hoodoo such a magical link is called a personal concern. The more personal it is the better it is. Your target’s menstrual blood or other blood or their poop are perfect. And yes, it is often possible to get a little sample of a person’s poop — don’t be such a wimp! As far as blood goes, bathroom trashcans are the go to place. Underwear or a sock stolen from a laundry hamper are great. Hair taken from a hair brush or a single hair fallen onto a piece of furniture is great too, and so are fingernail clippings taken from, again, a trash can. A person’s signature is also a very powerful magical link — even a photocopy of their signature is good. The more personal the better. Get creative, get dirty … you get the idea.

Failing that you can use a photograph, but a photograph isn’t as good a magical link as the personal concerns mentioned above, in my experience. On the other hand people can and do use photographs in spells all the time, so maybe it’s just me. Facebook and your printer can be great friends in this case.

Last of all, if you can’t get hold of a better link, a name paper can sometimes work — but should be used only as a last resort, i.e., if you really, really — I mean really — can’t obtain anything truly personal. The simplest way to make a name paper is just to write the person’s full name and date of birth on a piece of paper.

—You’ll need an incense burner and charcoal. Self-igniting charcoal can be obtained online or probably more easily from most tobacco stores. Most such stores sell them these days for use in hookahs.

—You’ll need poppy seeds. Head to your spice rack or the grocery store and get some. Poppy flowers are often used to bring needed dreams, but poppy seeds cause confusion.

—The best time for this working or any even vaguely similar working is when your target is asleep. 3am is a good bet for most people.

OK, so now you’re all ready, and it’s 3am. Light the charcoal. Grab it gently with a pair of pliers and stand outside and light it with a lighter or light it and hold it out a window. The fumes from self-igniting charcoals are noxious, dangerous — don’t breathe that stuff! Some charcoals will even catch on fire when lit. Just blow out the flames and let the chemicals do their work and burn themselves away. When the whole charcoal is ignited and the fumes are gone, put it in your incense burner.

Put some poppy seeds on the charcoal. Enough to make quite a bit of smoke but not so much as to dampen the charcoal down. You want the charcoal to last as long as possible. Don’t expect burning poppy seeds to smell good. They don’t stink too bad but they really don’t very good either. —Then just hold your magical link in the smoke. That’s the confusion part of the spell … but we want more…

Talk to the magical link or chant or sing to the magical link or rap to the magical link, whatever floats your boat, as if you were addressing your target her/himself. Tell them what you want them to think. Or tell them how you want them to feel. Keep it fairly simple. The more rhythmical and hypnotic you can say or chant or whatever your improvised incantation now the better. But do keep it simple.

<Name>, <Name>, I am right and you are wrong!

<Name>, You are weak and I am strong and I’m the master now!

Something simple like that. And — make it your own! Be creative! Most of all focus! You need to put all the will, desire, and belief you’ve got into this for it to work. Emotion is good too. If you’re angry at the person, for example, inflame your rage — but still use all your might to stay focused — and put all that rage into your little, simple, quiet and hypnotic incantation or jingle.

Add more poppy seeds as necessary. Keep the magical link in the smoke. Keep all this up if possible until your charcoal burns out. Keep it up, quietly droning on and on, as long as you can force yourself to.

—That’s all there is to it. I wrote it out in detail so that beginners could understand it and follow the directions.

—If you’ve succeeded, the next day what you think or how you feel should be deeply implanted in your target’s mind. The poppy seeds — the confusion — are just to make your target more susceptible to your will.

Is this evil? If somebody is hurting you or abusing you or planning to do so — then No! It’s self-defense. Of course this is an all-purpose spell, and it could be used for immoral purposes. I emphatically do not believe in karma — at least not as that word is commonly used in the English-speaking magical world. But if you use this spell and you’re the bully then remember — someday you’ll attempt to influence a practitioner much stronger than you, and they will fuck you up.

But in our ordinary work-a-day world there may be bitches and sons of bitches out there looking to hurt you. Maybe you’re facing a bully at school. Maybe somebody just hates you and is making you miserable. Oftentimes it’s a harsh world. If you won’t stand up for yourself and do something about your own bad situation then who will? Odds are — nobody. Sometimes you’ve just got to do what’s necessary.

Good luck and may your magic be strong!

Revolution: Some Reveries

Utena and Himemiya

I just finished watching the anime series Revolutionary Girl Utena. I’ve never — until now — been a fan of anime but I must say that I’ve never been so moved by a TV show or even a movie as I was by this anime. —Last night I couldn’t sleep and thought a lot. I don’t know if the following will actually make sense or amount to anything, but here I go, sharing some of my thoughts on revolution, on making our fucked up world right, and on hypocritical “revolution”.

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Last night on Facebook I posted this: A revolution where your very soul is not at stake is just a farce. I can post about Peter Grey’s Apocalyptic Withcraft, and I can post Blackbird Raum’s song Witches, but what have they — or I — accomplished? Nothing. Zero. Zilch.

I also posted this: Pretty and rebellious words are not enough. What will you hazard in order to change the world? What will I?

It may sound like it but I was not drunk, I promise. My mind works in funny ways in that quiet time of night when all the psychic noise of the world is hushed. —And I posted this:

But still, what actions could a person possibly perform to change the world itself? I can think of no lever long enough to move the world, to shake up and shift the deeply set inertia of the way things are and the way they seem to be headed. So—just more pretty words here, folks, move along…

Kinda pessimistic, no?

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But I think there is a way to change the world — PRISM, attack drones, the SAURON satellite, etc., etc., ad nauseam. It’s for everyone to first revolutionize themselves. You can’t expect to be able to change the world without changing yourself. —Everyone might do this differently. For Hermetic and Qabalistic maguses it might mean crossing the Abyss. For a pagan it might mean devotion to the Gods. My point is that you have to set yourself to rights before you can expect to set the world to rights. That’s going to mean something different for everyone.

But everyone in this increasingly screwed up world is not going to embark on a path of fixing themselves and supplying their deficiencies. That just isn’t going to happen. That’s the only way to revolutionize the world. Period. Full Stop. —Does that mean I’m just spewing more pretty vanity, more pretty words that amount to nothing?

Almost, but not quite, I think…

~~~~~~~~~

Even if the whole world doesn’t join in we can do the self-work necessary to prepare us to revolutionize our own little corner of the world. And we don’t need to become perfect — perfection is an impossible goal. But turning our lives around and beginning work on fixing our own little corner of the world is something we can all start now.

What does that mean in practice? What concrete steps to fix our little corners of the world am I talking about?

A friend told me recently that she would be nothing without her Gods. I felt a little bad, like my piety was insufficient. And it probably is. But the reason I felt a little bad is that I wouldn’t be nothing without my Patroness and other Gods and Spirits. It’s without magic that I would be nothing. Magic defines who I am just as her religion, her piety and pious practices, define my friend. So I can only talk about this from a magical point of view. Sorry, it’s the best and all that I can do. Just this one tiny example that follows will have to suffice for now. It won’t fix PRISM or get rid of SAURON or feed the starving, but it will help your tiny corner of the world, maybe immensely, if you persist in the practice. For those of you who don’t find the practice suitable — it’s magical because I’m a sorceress, or maybe a witch, or whatever the fuck I am — can with perseverance also begin to find your own small methods. Methods that add up to big results.

~~~~~~~~~

I also last night posted the following on Twitter, in a series of posts. I’ll condense them all into one.

America was founded on the blood and bones of the black man & the American Indian. And every step you take, you tread on that blood and those bones. So there is guilt, and shame abides. And the Land itself is the blood and bones of those sacrificed and it cries out for an expiation. But no expiation is forthcoming. Would anything suffice to atone?

What I was forgetting is that the answer to that last question is actually Yes. The practice of making general offerings to the local spirits (amongst others) outlined in The Sorcerer’s Secrets by Jason Miller is one way to start appeasing the Spirits of the Land. This practice has helped me so many times, because spirits have come to me and helped me solve various problems I’ve faced. For them to do that, I must have made at least some of them my friends and allies by this practice. You can also leave small change at crossroads. You can light a stick of incense and offer it to the Four Winds or to the Eight Directions. You can pour a glass of pure fresh water at the roots of a pine tree or other favorite tree. If you have the ability, you can begin to commune with the Spirits of the Land directly by these means. You can turn the land beneath your wandering feet into an ally, instead of its being a surly enemy, or neutral at best. You can make friends with the local Spirits. You can even appease a pissed-off genius loci sometimes, although I admit some are utterly inimical to humanity.

By this modest means, you can revolutionize your little corner of the world. There are many more ways, but I’ll leave discovering her own ways of fixing her world as an exercise for the reader.

~~~~~~~~~

That was only one example, but just one example shows that one can even this very moment begin revolutionizing their own part of the world. You can bring spiritual harmony to places where before there was only spiritual hostility. So the revolutionary words of Apocalyptic Witchcraft and of Witches by Blackbird Raum are more than just pretty words and ultimately just vanity, a disturbance of the air. They can actually be realized even now.

There is one catch however. My means of accomplishing this is going to be via magic. Remember how I said that magic defines me and makes me who I am? Beginning to revolutionize the world requires going more than just skin deep—

It requires that you hazard your very soul in this work. A revolution where your very soul is not at stake is just a farce.

Hoping you got something out of my late night reveries recalled here.

Much love. —Rachel Izabella

Tarot: Finally

The Moon - Shadowscapes Tarot

The Moon, from the Shadowscapes Tarot
by Stephani Pui-Mun Law

Off and on, for years now, I’ve been trying to learn to read the Tarot. Convinced I should do it the way you’re “supposed to”, I fought and struggled to learn with either the Rider-Waite Deck or Aleister Crowley and Lady Frieda Harris’s Thoth Deck. But even though I long ago memorized most of the individual card meanings, I could make no sense of the arrangements of colorful pieces of cardboard I laid out in front of me.

Then I discovered the Shadowscapes Tarot. Although the images are uniquely different, to say the least, at heart it’s a traditional Tarot deck. I picked it up in the bookstore, held it in my hand for a moment, and impulse-bought it. I’m so glad I did. These pieces of cardboard tell me things. For the first time I’m doing my own amateurish readings for myself. I love geomancy but I know even in these early days the Tarot is absolutely amazing, enthralling.

Speaking of the images on the cards — they are fantastical and absolutely beautiful. There’s so much detail on each card I wish the deck were bigger, huge even, the way my Thoth deck is. You can take a look at some of the cards and some of Ms. Law’s other artwork here.

When I’m ready, I’ll take up either the Rider-Waite deck or the Thoth deck and learn to divine with one of those. In the meantime the Shadowscapes Tarot is proving immensely satisfying.

I Now Own An Athame: What!?

Hand Carved Bog Oak Athame

Notice it has no metal blade.

Thanks to Skyllaros, who posted a picture of the one he bough on FB, I’m the proud owner, though it hasn’t shipped yet, of an athame hand-carved from bog oak between 3000 and 6000 years old. When I saw it my brain screamed Bog … Chthonic. Oak … Hekate! So I impulse-bid on it. And I got it for cheap.

The problem is I’ve always created sacred space in the form of a circle with my staff, not an athame. Nowadays I create sacred space with the Adjuration of Metatron from the Book of Abrasax (which works amazingly well, by the way). What the heck am I going to do with the thing? I’ve got some learning to do.

I know it’s not a black-handled dagger, and some of you will say it’s not an athame for that reason. Maybe you’re right. It’s still a cool tool that I’m determined to use — somehow.

I haven’t a clue how though. Maybe I’ll pray for the answer to come in a dream or in a kledon.

—If you don’t know what a kledon is, it’s a specialty of Hermes’s, a form of divination in which you pray to Him for the next words you hear to be the answer to the question you ask Him. Best accompanied by an offering of a quarter or two where somebody will find it. —You can get some astounding results with kleda, and some you don’t understand for years, and other results you may never understand.

Anyways, I may be casting my first circle with it soon, pentagrams, calling on the Watchtowers, and all, something I’ve never once done and will have to look up in a book, which I probably don’t own yet, on how exactly the heck to do it. —If anyone has any suggestions of where to look for how to cast a circle and what to do with my athame (other than stick it where the sun don’t shine, you can keep that to yourselves!) I’d love to read your ideas.

—And I’ll let you know how it goes … provided of course this sudden whim of mine that I now own winds up doing anything…

Crossroads of Sorcery: The Compleat Sorcerer

Sorcery isn’t a magic bullet. According to Brother Ash about %30 of sorcery is spell-work, the rest is mundane effort, rolling up your sleeves and doing everything you can to make a success out of yourself.

A lesson many of us need to learn in the magical community.

Crossroads of Sorcery: The Compleat Sorcerer.

Dionysian Atavism: Famous Last Words: Thoughtforms, Heroes, and Gods.

Jack Faust hits the nail on the head concerning the precise difference between super-heroes (which are a kind of thoughform), Heroes (like Chiron and Herakles or Hercules), and Deities. If pagans knew these simple facts about the denizens of the Astral Plane, the current ruction over veneration of super-heroes and the like would — or rather it should but probably wouldn’t, more’s the pity — cease to exist.

The info Jack presents is all you need to know to dispel for you any confusion caused by this ridiculous and embarrassing brouhaha in the pagan community.

Dionysian Atavism: Famous Last Words: Thoughtforms, Heroes, and Gods.

Fictional Magic

If only the Pagan community/communities could talk about analogous issues with as much elegance, simplicity and sanity as Polyphanes does in this blog article.

The Digital Ambler

I’ve sometimes remarked on this blog that I feel like I live in a video game or role playing game of some sort, what with my magic rings and enchanted swords and whatnot.  Largely, this is due to my having been exposed to a lot more gaming than I have magic, and it’s no secret that lots of games like Dungeons and Dragons or other RPGs borrow liberally from occulture and magic literature, though it may not be by the book or realistic in any sense I’m aware of (though if anyone has a fireball spell they’d be willing to share, hit me up).  That said, magic is also guilty of borrowing from literature and gaming as well.  For instance, take the infamous Necronomicon from the Cthulhu mythos of H.P. Lovecraft; although this was just a fictional book from a fictional story, many authors have taken it upon themselves to…

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Ancestor Veneration [For Jack Faust]

First, let me say there’s really no right or wrong way to venerate your ancestors. But I’m still going to tell you exactly how to do it, because some ways work better than other ways. These ways are my ways. You may well know of or find better ways. If so let me know via comment.

The most common form of ancestral veneration in the West, the only form I know about in fact, is the ancestral altar. What does such an altar look like?

I’ll describe the simplest workable altar first. N.B.: when I say “workable” I do not mean that you’ll be doing necromantic workings at your ancestral altar. If you’re interested in necromancy, you’ll need another altar for it. The ancestral altar is strictly for veneration.

A permanent as possible flat surface (the dead do not like to be moved around much), a bowl for water, a white candle, a symbol of your ancestors’ religion — that’s all you’ll need to start out with. If some of your ancestors were Catholics and some were Protestants, say, maybe two ancestral altars would be better. I honestly don’t know, because all my ancestors for a long way back were Protestants. The point here is that the religious beliefs of the more recent generations of your dead come first in this work and not your own. If your ancestors were Protestants the best religious symbols are a plain wooden cross and/or a Bible, preferably the translation they read. I use a King James version. If your ancestors were Catholics, a crucifix will do nicely.

Authorities differ on what’s the best place to put an ancestral altar, so just let me say avoid the bedroom if possible. The ancestral altar will eventually become a place of strong connection, often not just with your own ancestors but other spirits — both undesirables and ones you may well grow to know and love. If you want peaceful sleep you don’t need the dead clamoring at you for attention all night long.

So what do you do with this minimal version of the ancestral altar? First decide how often you’re going to practice veneration. Every day? Weekly? Shoot for the same time and day if possible, but this is Real Life so just do the best you can. —Pull yourself up a chair because you’ll be here a while. Fill the bowl with fresh water. Light the white candle. Knock either once or three times on the altar with your knuckles and tell your ancestors who you are. Talk to them for a minute or two, just as if they were there, then read some from the Bible, or say a Hail Mary. Maybe sing a hymn. It’s a good idea to compose your own poem of praise to them, but I haven’t gotten around to that myself. —Then talk to your dead about your problems, your joys, tell them about your life, your work, your living family.

Now comes the important part. Just sit there paying attention. It’s a little like meditation. If your mind wanders, return it to paying attention to the altar and your own consciousness. Don’t talk, just sit. Shoot for thirty minutes total time you spend at the altar. Fifteen minutes is barely an absolute minimum. When you’re done rap once or thrice on the altar and say good-bye. —That’s all there is to the minimal version.

How do you elaborate on this minimal version? By turning it into a boveda or mesa blanca (mesa branca, if you’re into Portuguese). Cover your altar with a new white cloth, or a white cloth that belonged to one of your ancestors. Add photos of your grandparents or great grandparents, dead aunts and uncles. Don’t put pictures of anyone alive on your altar. Avoid photos of ancestors who hated you or hated everybody in life. Put things your ancestors enjoyed in life there, coffee, cigarettes or cigars, some favorite food, maybe some fresh flowers. Only don’t salt the food. The dead don’t like salt.  I wouldn’t recommend alcohol either. You don’t want your dead to get drunk. Yes, in fact, the dead can get drunk. —Most importantly add to the number of bowls of fresh water on your altar. Some say seven bowls, some say nine, some say eight with a larger bowl in the midst of the others. You’ll have to suit yourself here. Now you have a minimal boveda. You can add to it more than I’ve written here. For suggestions on an even more elaborate altar see the sources at the end of this post.

What about malevolent spirits that may be drawn to your altar? Their attention can be drawn away by placing a bowl under the altar filled with alcohol, the drinking kind not the rubbing kind, coffee and tobacco. When your 30 minutes are up and you’ve said good-bye, get rid of the contents 0f this bowl and fill it with salt and return it. Do this every day or week. If this doesn’t work, cense your altar with frankincense and put some kind of blessing oil on the cross or crucifix. Van Van Oil is a good all around blessing oil. I suppose Abramelin or Temple Oil might work better, I honestly don’t know. Command the spirit in the name of God to depart, no matter whether you believe in God or not.

You can also try luring it away by setting out a glass of whiskey or other alcoholic beverage and setting it further and further away until the spirit is gone.

You may be thinking I’m crazy. That the dead won’t come, or that the dead are just gone forever, or that you aren’t gifted with the Second Sight. —That’s one of the most useful things about your altar. It will teach you to hear and feel the presence of spirits and you will learn how to communicate with them, over time. You will know they’re there.

Why are you doing this? It will improve your life is why, in addition to improving your far more than five senses. Your dead can become powerful allies. You should find your life improving in big and little ways, more and more over time, as your connection with them deepens.

About that connection. Dealing with the dead will inevitably creep some people out. That’s OK. Nobody must have an ancestral altar. —As first, foremost and always a Hekatean, I personally find the company of the dead at times a bit overwhelming but always enjoyable.

And that’s the end of my how-to on ancestral altars. For further information you might go to Scribd.com and search for boveda or mesa blanca. Also the Curious Curandera has a 14 page document free to download at her website.

Have fun and learn from your dead. You dealings with the dead should be, as should your life in general, fun and adventurous. It may seem solemn, but some adventures just are solemn affairs.

Best of luck and much love.

Twisted Rope’s Magix Series: Good Introduction to Magic

A good introduction to magic, no matter how you spell it. I’m not a Kemetic polytheist and know very little about heka, so I found the part about execrations particularly interesting. If anyone out there is contemplating starting a praxis, you could do worse than begin here.

I don’t however think the series is complete yet so I’d also recommend a beginner snag one of my favorite books, The Sorcerer’s Secrets by Jason Miller, in addition. It’s even available for the Kindle.

http://thetwistedrope.wordpress.com/category/devo-magix-series/

How to bring Divination & Ritual together forever | Milagro Roots

I’m having a hard time learning to read Tarot. The article linked to below has a quick and easy method of reading just one card and designing a ritual based on your reading. I can do ritual. Maybe this will help get into the cards.

(FWIW my go-to method of divination is geomancy.)

How to bring Divination & Ritual together forever | Milagro Roots.

Magic: To Keep the Landlord/Landlady Away

I have no idea where I got this very simple Hoodoo or Conjure spell from, it’s not in any of my books. Maybe somebody shared it on the Internet. But it worked for me.

Tips. — Focus. Use as much one-pointed concentration as you can muster. If you’re thinking about hooking up tonight and not about what you’re doing, it won’t work. Remember the Holy Triangulum (as the Cultus Sabbati folks call it, being fond of large words, but having borrowed the notion from Austin Osman Spare) of Will-Desire-Belief. You must will it to work. You must want it to work. You must believe you can do this. Belief here can be considered as either self-confidence or being free from doubt. Last, if you’re the sort who worries about Karma and that sort of thing, this spell may not be for you, even though it caused my landlady no harm as far as I could tell.

To keep a nosy landlord or landlady out of your home, first get about a handful of Vandal Root, better known as Valerian. I got mine from the drugstore in capsules, and pulled the two halves apart to get to the powdered root or flower inside. I used fifteen or twenty. Then take it to your front step. If you don’t have a front step then I suspect that just outside your front door will work fine. Say a prayer to the appropriate Deity of your choice, if you want to. Holding the Vandal Root in your dominant hand, curse your landlord or landlady seven times, saying it out loud and using plain English (or whatever your native language is). I said, “God damn you, Jane Doe,” where “Jane Doe” was really my landlady’s name. Then spread the powder over your front step. Done.

When I lived alone in my tornado proof trailer in the mountains, my landlady would visit often during the first month or so. I had lots of things I didn’t want her to see, so I had to keep them hidden during the day. She would look everywhere. Then she would sit at the kitchen table and tell me all about Victory (Southern) Baptist Church … how good a man the preacher was … how good the choir was. Inevitably she would invite me to attend the coming Sunday. I didn’t want any of that, thank you very much. After I performed the above spell she never visited the inside of my trailer again until the day I moved out. —That was about six months of privacy, of being landlady free.

May your magic be strong.