Emergent Magick has its roots in the post-industrial Midwest. A workingman’s magick. If there was any work to be had. Among these ruins, forgotten by out countrymen, we seek to build a new culture, with its roots firmly planted in the land of our ancestors. This is immigrant magick. As so many of our ancestors came here on the promise of prosperity in the early twentieth century. But that promise has been broken, probably always was a lie. The factories emptied, but we survived. Making our own way. Our own economy. Our own tribe. I think of this as I am about to embark. Heading to the blackened, shriveled, but still beating heart of EMK—Rockford, Illinois. It’s Sabbat time.