Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Amazing Rant from Someone I Admire

“Crystal Amethyst Pluto!! That is a ridiculous craft name. Obviously a fluffer.”
“Yeah, no lineage. Fluffers.”
“Artemis is NOT a lesbian. Lesbians are not virgins. F’ing fluffers.”

"Alright you guys. Stop right there.

Once upon a time, in your own relatively recent history, after you learned to walk, but very probably before you learned to read, you entered Dream Time. Every single one of you did this in a different way.

For some of you, it was an ongoing game of soldiers, where your friend Ralf was always the grey soldier, and you were always the blue one. For others, it was a game were you were hero puppies, but one of those particular hero puppies was “your” hero puppy. For still others, the dream was about God or Jesus, and how you were his angel.

The game had rules. You may not even remember the place you played the game very well any more, but you remember the game. When non-believers would intrude, you had to cease your play, or the “grown ups” would “ruin” it.

That part of you which imagines, dreams, hopes, believes and aspires is the very same part of you that once pretended to be a Thundercat. The faculty which allows you to imagine yourself succeeding at a job interview once allowed you to see unicorns running around your backyard.

That part of you drew you to practice magick, and ultimately, it is the part of you that makes magick work.

Now you are eyeball deep in ancient tomes, looking for the most ancient lineage possible. Tell me, even if you found the most legitimate tradition on Earth, would it make your magick any more powerful?

You might not know. Take it from us, who have been around the block a few times. No book you read, no initiation you receive, no charter you can hang on your wall will ever make you a more powerful practitioner. It will just give you more street cred. It will make people listen to you. People, as it happens, but not the gods, or faeries, or spirits of the forest.

I joined a legit group, studied hard, and practiced the rituals dutifully. I read Eliphas Levi in the original French, studied Cornelius Agrippa, memorized countless invocations in Latin, and spent hours of my life that I will never get back lying in a coffin listening to some n00b bang a gong periodically. All the while, my magick was getting farther away from me.

One day, it hit me. I was not having fun. I was bitter old woman at the age of thirty-five, and all my studies had brought me was an unjustified sense of superiority.


I did not get into magick so that people would think I had the biggest wooby-wooby in the known galaxy. I got into the business strictly for the ability to fly and throw fire balls. I had no flight powers, no fire balls, and no joy in my practice. I marched up to the Ancient Sunmasters who had conferred my degrees, and demanded the last decade and a half of my life back.

No refund was forth-coming.

Now, I know what you are thinking. The purpose of magick is to fix the flaws in your personality, you dummy. No wonder you were miserable.

To you I answer, if you want to get over your psychological issues, go see a shrink. Israel Regardie recommended as much. And if you want to be a good person, work at it. No nemyss or scourge required.

Magick is about the paranormal, the unexplainable. The impossible. It is about accessing the truths of reality on its deepest levels, showing that the physical and the spiritual are indeed a work painted by the same divine hand.

It is not for the purpose of whining about the issues with your mother/father/boyfriend/uncle. And it is not for the purpose of rolling around on the ground shouting, “Oy! My Alchemy!” and using this as an excuse to throw your system of morality and ethics into the garbage can.

Honey Badger don’t care about your alchemy. Honey Badger don’t give a rat’s ass about your lineage. He just walks right up to your banner of the East and pees all over it. Then he eats a snake. Why does Honey Badger’s opinion matter? Because Honey Badger is a wild animal. He is a part of nature. He doesn’t care what kind of freaking hat or robe you are wearing. And the spirits of nature who might reasonably help you to gain actual control over reality? They are no different."

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