Does Donald Trump piss you off? Are you concerned for the safety of the nation, and the world under his rule? Do his paid lackeys and sycophantic band of liars make you want to scream? Well, DO SOMETHING about it.
Second, if you feel so inclined, participate in this mass ritual which takes place at the same time monthly around the world. Literally thousands of magical workers are participating in this, myself included. I firmly believe it is working to keep Trump’s chicanery from creating a full on worldwide disaster.
You can find the rite, and its variants, here. Apart from the real-world effects this spell may be producing, it also gives me a chance to perform a monthly cathartic psychodrama to purge my poor soul from the idiocy that spews forth daily from the White House.
Picture it! Last weekend, St. Augustine, Florida. About 3 drinks, 2 bowls, and a very potent THC edible settling nicely in my tummy. This was the night of the trip I’d been waiting for, our paranormal investigation and ghost tour through the historic city. While for most of the group, it was an entertaining story time, for me there was a moment of pure fear.
St. Augustine has been a continually occupied settlement since Spanish explorers set up camp there in 1565. It’s 450 year history means it’s a great place for antiquities, archaeology, and local legends.
About 30 minutes into the tour, my brain was total mush, so all the facts I learned about St Augustine ghosts I had to read about later. However one stop I remember in vivid detail was at Antiques and Uniques on Aviles St. This part of the town has been developed ever since the first Spanish period. The building we entered was once the City Jail, and prior to that had been part of a military hospital complex. Archaeological evidence found in the 21st century revealed human remains under the building. According to legend there were also ghosts of children who haunt the place, so instead of calling out to the rapists and murderers, we decided to try to communicate with the kids.
We powered up our KII EMF meter and took our dowsing rods. As we all crammed into a narrow closet, which was at one time the alley behind the jail and a site of more than one grisly murder, the silence overtook the place. With a single flashlight we filed in and tried to call the child ghosts by name. Now, being in the middle of an edible session, my mind went all kinds of weird places. Time stood still. I became claustrophobic and paranoid. All of that I could easily attribute to the THC. But then shit started getting too real.
The flashlight begins flickering (of course), sending a thousand memories of scary movies flooding through my head. A creak in the distance and footsteps clamoring above us strike momentary fear into my heart. It feels like I am being watched. My boyfriend decides to go in deeper to the closet (I was too afraid, and relieved that he was standing next to the murder hole and not me). After a while, we ask the kids to manipulate the dowsing rod. Slowly, the rods begin to separate out at 180 degrees from each other. Our KII meters are spiking left and right near the rods, the flashlight is fucking with my peripheral vision and now I’m seeing things that are hopefully not there. I take my KII meter and move it around the other meters that are spiking off. The activity stops about four feet above the ground–right about at the height of a 10 year old child. I am having a legit paranormal experience, and I am almost paralyzed with fear. Well, fuck me. Even though I study and do magic and all that entails, this experience is just a little too real for my stoner brain. I was definitely relieved when the 3 hour investigation (which was actually only 20 minutes) was over.
Other fun highlights from the tour, after the jump.
In the magnificent baptistery of the Duomo of Florence, there is a master work of the Infernal Majesty of Satan and the fallen angels, eagerly munching the tenderest parts of the damned. This may be one of the earliest artistic versions of Satan as the Pan-like devil we know Him as today.
This, and Marcovaldo’s other 13th century works incorporate a blend of Byzantine and Romanesque styles, popular in Tuscany in the time. But this image of Satan is something quite new, though old. These devils are a frightening hybrid of the Satyr and a more ancient god in Tuscany, Fufluns.
These pagan deities, whose domains were merriment, orgiastic revelries and having a good time in general, are now demonized to represent the downfall of sinners, and the mysterious fits of ecstasy of the Cult of Dionysis, only known by this time in rumors or works of Greek tragedy like Euripedes’ Bacchae, were now the Church’s tool of the imagination, used to keep the masses scared and afraid, and so obedient.