An Import of my Tumblr Blog
The wonderful talk about the Red Goddess and humans reclaiming their innate ability to be unto themselves a sacred nexus of cosmic wisdom by going into and remaining present in the body.
#alkistisdimech #babalon
#occult #chaosmagic #runesoup #petergrey #scarletimprint #livingmythology #archetypes #woman
The Poison Dagger
Used to bring sickness – physical, mental or spiritual – to your victim. It can be drawn on their doorstep, its ashes added to crossing powder, or drawn over a photo of them.
To make Poison Dagger Powder: combine black mustard seed, the dirt from a hospital, a powdered, poisonous plant of your choosing (though one that is not dangerous with mere skin contact is recommended), 3 powdered (red) chiles, the ashes of the Dagger and (optionally) the ashes of Deuteronomy 32:24 –
“They will be wasted by famine, and consumed by plague and bitter destruction; And the teeth of beasts I will send upon them, With the venom of crawling things of the dust.”
Relief of Thoth blessing a pharaoh. Egyptian, Roman Period, 41 – 68 BC. Island of Philae.
What do you believe about death? I never really believed that we go into a perfect happy place forever and ever. I never really believed in nothingness.
This past Saturday, at a festival dedicated to doing our true Will, Sator Mordecai Sova of the Magical Pact of the Illuminates of Thanateros, Magister Templi of Temple Ne-ga-ee-kia, my mentor, and my friend, sat down among those she loved, doing what she loved, and passed on.
We watched as her body died of a heart attack, and could do nothing. But what would we do to prevent the most epic death a magician could ask for?
Soldiers fall. Leaders are slain. But I see now that magicians truly go on. For after her passing into the next stage of the Great Work, we danced, we drank, we did magick. And all the while I saw her guiding hand leading the ritual, and continuing her life’s work.
CHOYOFAQUE! IA NE-GA-EE-KIA! IA MAMA CHAOS!
Thoth is the God Form I identify with most of all, and as such I shape my practises mostly in conjuction with, or directly opposite to his traits. This focused duality is a key component to the demolition of ego, and a powerfull path of self discovery.
What do you believe about death? I never really believed that we go into a perfect happy place forever and ever. I never really believed in nothingness.
This past Saturday, at a festival dedicated to doing our true Will, Sator Mordecai Sova of the Magical Pact of the Illuminates of Thanateros, Magister Templi of Temple Ne-ga-ee-kia, my mentor, and my friend, sat down among those she loved, doing what she loved, and passed on.
We watched as her body died of a heart attack, and could do nothing. But what would we do to prevent the most epic death a magician could ask for?
Soldiers fall. Leaders are slain. But I see now that magicians truly go on. For after her passing into the next stage of the Great Work, we danced, we drank, we did magick. And all the while I saw her guiding hand leading the ritual, and continuing her life’s work.
CHOYOFAQUE! IA NE-GA-EE-KIA! IA MAMA CHAOS!
Ibis Coffin.
Medium: Wood, silver, gold, and rock crystal, animal remains, linen
Possible Place Collected: Tuna el-Gebel, Egypt
Date: 305-30 B.C.E.
Period: Ptolemaic Period with later additions
In defining the Devil I have had recourse to say this: /the Devil reveals a narrow path into a dark wood./ Remember that. He is out in all weathers and seasons in his tatty blacks, but the form is not important. Neither is what kind of crown he sports, horn, thorns, flowers, hat or cap. Nor does it matter that at times he seems to be Lord of the World, at others a more intimate, local spirit. It is what he shows us that counts. This definition could be challenged in that the wood has been coppiced and then hacked back to a stand of a few spindled trees. But I will let the phrase stay, as he is the revealer, and the wood is waiting behind all our eyelids. Blink and you might miss him. Walk abroad and you might meet him. His presence is immanent, the path opens before you.
The Devil is protean, he changes as we change, our closest companion from cave to the starry heavens. This is why we cannot leapfrog him to engage with a horned god of our supposed Celtic forebears. Witchcraft is meaningless if we use it to retreat to an imagined past and play at being the very different people who inhabited it. The injunction of the mysteries to know thyself precludes this kind of escapism. The gods of the past came from the soil, the social conditions, and ours must too, none more so than the Devil. He paws his way out of the farrowed fields unsettling even the crows.