Full Moon Ritual of Friday 13p

Friday, September 13th
Full ☾ in ♓️

This weekend in the northern hemisphere we were all treated to an auspicious occurrence of a full moon in Pisces. This placement to me indicates a great magnification of spiritual movement, intellectual flow and inward creativity. Retrograde Neptune which governs this lunation may cause it to seem like the spiritual seeker is trying to swim upstream–there is struggle but determination in his efforts.
The day of the 13th, Sage, the priestess of our coven, invited me to join her in a full moon ritual. Despite being tired from all the crazy shit going on in my professional life right now, I decided that a full moon on Friday the 13th just cannot be overlooked. So we gathered!
Here in the south it is still hot at night but a passing tropical storm across the state thankfully provided some breeze and ambiance to the surroundings. This night was full of life as all the trees swayed, the crickets sang and a large and invisible family of frogs were calling out to each other as the moon passed silently overhead. To prepare we set up a working table outside. We took a lot of time before starting anything to ground ourselves and discern what need there was for working under this moon. It would be a night for divination and spirit travel! Not having a proper crossroads to work in, we decided instead to get cross-faded with an inebriating combination of alcohol, cannabis, kinnikkinnik, and the last dregs of my vision potion (the jury is finally out on this BTW. It is very inspiring).
We purified ourselves to start, cast the circle with the LBRP and called the elements together. We opened our ritual by drawing down the power of the moon into our space. Then we took out the Black Mirror. This mirror was built by me, consecrated to the moon, and since then has never touched the light of day. Sage took her dive into the depths of the mirror as I stood watch. By now all the potions and fumes from earlier were keeping me relaxed but deeply focused. I couldn’t tell you what Sage saw in the Mirror. That is for her to tell. But when I went in next, I had a profound, almost psychedelic experience.
My intention when starting this divination was to discern whether there was any hope in the future for the human species. As I opened the veil and entered into the Mirror’s fathomless depths, my mind’s eye briefly caught a glimpse of the anthropological story of homo sapiens from the last major Ice Age, to perhaps a not-too-distant future of human space exploration. But before gleaning too much about my intended question, a cosmic voice interjected…
“You’re asking the most boring question ever”, it said. And suddenly my vision transformed into an ever-expanding, multi-dimensional, fractalizing space. It was a universe beyond our own. It was the world of forms and it was the world of the formless at the same time. This multiverse of possibilities, endless endless combinations, opened up to me like a book in an alien script. “Is this the Askashic record?!!”, I thought to myself. No answer. Only the fast whizzing of ineffable words, images and feelings which were beyond my understanding. It was too much to contain. My mind was spinning and then somehow I spiraled back into my normal time and place, outside the Mirror, and outside still under the light of the moon. The lesson from my seemingly idiotic question? The human condition is an illusion of permanence. My human consciousness is a mere drop of water temporarily separated from an immense ocean of Mind. In some ways this is disturbing. In other ways it is comforting.
After this we had to stand up, move around, stretch and breathe. We then sat down for a mutual astral voyage up to the sphere of the moon, to explore its powers, denizens and structures. But that is a highly detailed story for another time. Finally we set up a small telescope which we used to focus moonlight into a singular point. We took turns charging our ritual objects with this favorable lunar energy, and blessing ourselves with its light. We also prepared a lovely urn of moon water, which we will use in the coming days.

The fullness of this moon also serves to remind me how full my life is. It is a blessing to have the means to explore the path of the spiritual seeker. And it is truly a blessing to have companions to explore the path together.

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Tools of the Craft

One area of my home is dedicated as a workshop for magical experiments. Once I bought an antique armoire, painted and gilded it, and then consecrated its use for magic. It serves not only as a permanent altar, but also a very useful storage space for my ever-growing collection of magical materials and artifacts. Since so many people who have seen it wonder what all I’ve got in there, let me give you a peak inside. Items marked with an * will have further details at the bottom

  1. The Red Book of S et L – My personal book of shadows. Essentially the true Book of Faustus.*
  2. Mortar and pestle
  3. Charcoal
  4. Railroad spikes*
  5. Bundle of sage
  6. Cauldron of Ogun*
  7. Shamanic rattle
  8. Fetish of Eleggua*  (I messed up and made two 8’s) 8. Deck prism
  9. Assorted candles, figurine candle
  10. Tarot
  11. Herb jars *
  12. Brick dust
  13. Chicken foot charm
  14. Book of Sigils*
  15. Hawaiian Baby Woodrose seeds
  16. Resin incenses
  17. Pipe
  18. Palo Santo
  19. Perfume vials
  20. Witches’ Flying Ointment (by Sarah Anne Lawless)
  21. Morning Glory seeds
  22. Cone incense
  23. Sacred jewelry, kept in a clay pot I made
  24. Vision potion herbal blend
  25. (Located underneath 26) Packets of baneful plant seeds. Henbane, atropa belladonna, cinquefoil and others.
  26. Hot plate for burning vessels

The altar level, which I decided not to release full photos of, contains many other items including the orisha Osun, ceremonial tools of the Golden Dawn, active spells, mojo bags, offerings, bells, wands and everything else.


Any magic mirror of mine needs to be fancy as fuck.


A proper cauldron. Not just for cooking but also for large potion batches–ayahuasca comes to mind…

Gays and their disposable income, what can I say?

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1: One of my most prized possessions, The Red Book contains a record of my most interesting magical experiments, frequently used spells and ceremonies, correspondences, and spiritual writings. It is of course for my eyes only. Our coven has a separate Book of Shadows for common use.
4, 6, & 8: These Santeria/Yoruba items came to me purely by chance. When I used to work at a homeless shelter, people would come by with donations of all kinds. Sometimes they were useful things, sometimes they just wanted a place to drop their junk. One day a donation came in that was an old box full of strange objects that no one wanted to touch. When I opened the box, here was this head figurine, an iron cauldron, railroad spikes, a metal rooster, and another mysterious box with small animal bones, dust and a written spell. All these items were covered in grease and looked well used. Since fate determined that they would show up on my desk, I decided to take them home and maintain their dignified presence, rather than see them be thrown away.
11: About a dozen herbs are nicely bottled up off-camera here. They include things like wild lettuce, mugwort, damiana, High John, salvia divinorum, foxglove, rose petals, and others.
14: Similar to The Red Book, the less formal Sigil Book is a worksheet for sigil making and destroying. Some sigil drafts remain although their meanings are mostly forgotten by me when I look back. It is mainly a nostalgia piece.

Timothy Wyllie – Ketamine Lord

Timothy Wyllie’s life is proof that in order to become a great wizard, you have to alter your mind in drastic ways–usually to the point that you no longer even identify with the profane world at all. Having recently spent some more time learning about his life, he strikes me as the spiritual son of Dr. John Dee as well as Dr. Alexander Shulgin. A bit more about his mystical life comes from this eulogy by Erica Robinson of Inner Traditions:

It is with sadness that we report the passing of author Timothy Wyllie on Wednesday, October 4th. Born in 1940, Timothy was a great soul, forever changed by his near-death experience in 1973. A former member of the Process Church known for his appearances on Hamilton’s Pharmacopeia on Viceland Video, he spent the years after his NDE studying communication with non-human intelligences, such as Dolphins, ETs, and Angels. In 2011, with the publication of The Return of the Rebel Angels, he began to share his collected wisdom on the rebel angels as well as that of his own guardian angel, Georgia, an angel of Seraphic status. Georgia came to the fore with the publication of Timothy’s next book, Confessions of a Rebel Angel(2012), which Georgia channeled through Timothy. Their shared story has continued through several other books: Revolt of the Rebel Angels (2013), Rebel Angels in Exile (2014), Wisdom of the Watchers (2015), Awakening of the Watchers (2016), and Secret History of the Watchers (due out in 2018).

Watch the full episode of Hamilton’s Pharmacopeia, which features Wyllie, at Vice

Book Review – Besom, Stang & Sword

If you are a witch, like me, of a non-Wiccan, non-Pagan persuasion, this newly released book may be present the path for you. Orapello and Maguire have put together their own tradition of witchcraft that makes sense for modern times. This book serves as a reminder that we are people of the land, and we are each tied to the land where we live. There may be little need for gods from an ancient bygone country which we have never seen or heard. Instead we should favor indigenous plants and animals, local customs, the spirits and ancestors of our own land, and the seasons not only of our own region, but seasons that make sense to modern living (that is, a non-agrarian society that has little fear of food scarcity or timing rituals around harvest or famine).  This is especially poignant as Americans with a shorter breadth of history and folklore native to our home country.
As the title would suggest, the tools of this craft are traditional as well, but adaptable to our own needs. The authors lay out a sixfold path of traditional witchcraft which includes: History and lore, magick, divination, herbalism, necromancy and hedgewitchery. Their system flips the established yet contrived order of the elemental corners upside down, in favor of one that makes more locative sense to the user’s common sense. There is no shortage of animism or ancestors here, along with their two primary deities who are the masculine and feminine deifications of Nature itself.
I myself will be adopting many of their ideas into my regular magical work. This kind of magic ties the blood of Man to the soil of the Earth in a deep and meaningful way. What’s more is it raises our awareness of the world immediately around us and our relationship with it. Rather than adopting a witchcraft tradition which is a confused occultic hodgepodge amalgamation of other peoples’ ideas (or worse, a confused “New Age” practice that has no coherency or basis in reality whatsoever), Besom Stang & Sword inspire the reader to make their own path, and more importantly, forge a living tradition that is woven into their own world.

Book Review – The Witches’ Ointment: The Secret History of Psychedelic Magic


In The Witches’ Ointment: The Secret History of Psychedelic Magic, Thomas Hatsis takes you on a roller coaster ride through history in search for the mysterious origins of the legend of the witches’ flying ointment. Through story telling and by using primary historical sources, Hatsis presents the way in which the village healers and folk medicine practitioners of the Middle Ages became the most hated and feared of creatures to Christian Europe–witches! This book explores the historical use of psychoactive substances in both medicine and magic, and sheds much light on the Inquisitors who reacted to these practices with fear. Thomas Hatsis’ academic work, shown expertly in this book, is truly, truly impressive. Did he find the fabled recipe for magical flight? You will have to read to find out!

A Vision of Satan, A Night of Magic

Sunday, November 11th MMXVIII. Waxing Moon in Capricorn.

Our group has a powerful tradition of nocturnal witchcraft. When we determine the times and seasons are correct, we go out hiking deep into the wilderness where we have free reign to wander the woods under the cover of darkness. This is a mixed group of experienced psychonaut-witches and others new to our craft. This night was S’s initiation into our Mystery. After hiking a few hours, we arrived at our gathering place: a small clearing at the foot of a dense cypress dome. By sunset, our camp was set up, the sacred fire lit, and the tall pines stood watch as they were beautifully silhouetted against the twilight sky. As the slender crescent moon loomed low over the horizon, it was time again to take the mushroom potion I had so diligently prepared months ago.
We each bring our own different intentions to the rites. Some were there for guidance, others for healing or communicating with nature. My specific intention was to grow in magical knowledge and personal power. The group dynamic was just right, so I felt brave enough to take a very large dose. As we sat around the fire waiting for the arrival of the Mushroom Spirit, that old familiar indelible sensation of a subtle unveiling passed over us, wave after wave after wave. By the time we were each in a fully altered state, a strong wind passed us and we came to attention. Almost in unison we rose to walk. As we traveled silently in the darkness, the world became new again. Our sense of separation from nature was replaced by profound harmony. We slowly and carefully crossed a patch of swampland and into a scrub field. By this point, we had all been babbling to each other in endless streams of consciousness, roaring with raucous laughter and profound joy. When I peered through the darkness towards T and C (the other two experienced witches), we had been visibly transformed. T with his wavy golden locks, and wearing a cloak of stars became to me like the god Apollo! C with her bright blue hair and wearing a cape with a dark, colorful mandala, became like Gaia. I looked at myself and had become like Hades.
We decided to lay down and rest together a moment (the Mushroom always creates an alternating need to move and then to stop moving). I told the group it was time to be silent and listen to the world. The sudden quiet covered us like a blanket. After a moment (or maybe an hour? Time was becoming so difficult!), I went up to “Apollo” and asked him to walk with me alone. A short distance later we were shocked and surprised to find a crossroads in our path. This was the sign I needed! In many western traditions, a lonely crossroads is a particularly powerful place, and one especially where Satan is known to present himself.
Remembering my original intentions, I asked “Apollo” to guard my body. I did not know what I should do. By this point I was at the peak of altered consciousness. I stood at the edge of the crossroads and whispered into the darkness ahead of me, “Please, show me what to do.” Again the wind picked up and seemed this time to carry on it the whisper of a voice. I sensed the presence of a mighty and dread spirit. “Satan,” I said, “Here am I. If you would grant me the fantastic powers I’ve heard about, which you are known by men to offer those of us who call on you, I would freely give you whatever price you would ask of me!”
Then by an impulse I dropped to my knees, my arms spread out and my eyes looked up to the vast cosmos. Suddenly the sky itself rippled open into a terrible vortex! It was a swirling kaleidoscopic tunnel reaching into infinity from some other dimension. Fangs, bones, flames of Hellfire, glowing texts in an unknown language that revealed secrets unfathomable, hideous demonic faces with burning eyes staring through me, all rotating and ever changing before my dumbfounded self. I felt waves of new power crashing down on me, penetrating deep into my bones! My chest heavy with this power, I felt like I could become anything, do anything! A burning orange light rose out of me like a red-hot ball of iron. I knew this was my soul ascending towards the vortex. Out of the whirlwind appeared a terrible black claw with a singular reptilian eye. It was slowly coming down to snatch up my soul like the prize in an arcade claw machine. Then to my complete disappointment, the trance was broken with the sound of my name, which clashed and roared like thunder! “Gaia” appeared behind me, radiantly, standing next to our Apollo, to intervene and save my soul from being taken away.
The empty silence of the woods surrounded me again, and the vortex was gone, leaving only the countless stars sparkling down on us. I was equally grateful for their concern as I was desperate to go back into that trance. I appreciate my friends’ intervention, I know they meant well. But who knows what could have become of me had I not been interrupted.  Twenty-four hours later I can still feel that power dwelling in me, so perhaps something was given to me after all?
The night continued, the trip was the most visually intense experience I have ever had. We eventually returned to our camp to rest by the fire, but the visions just would not stop. The group’s mad ravings and fits of laughter and wailing continued through the whole night. Ever restless, we broke into smaller groups here and there to explore the more familiar parts of our woods, rapidly exchanging our disjointed thoughts, sharing our visionary experiences, and gazing out at constellations and wishing on shooting stars. Sleep would not come to us till just before the dawn.
Was my encounter with Satan real? On a psychological level I may rationalize the experience in terms of brain chemistry and the power of suggestion. But on a spiritual level, I know my soul was touched that night, and had that infernal transaction been completed, I can’t say what would have happened to me. The experiences that night were real enough that we will be forever changed.

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