Made the lotus tea in a small iron teapot by adding boiling
water to 5g of dried stamens. I let it steep ten minutes and it poured out a
nice dark-brown. I then added a tea bag of the imported herbal tea and let that
steep for three minutes. While that was going on I ate about a tablespoon of the
used plant material. It took about three teaspoons of added sugar to make it a pleasant
drink.
Drank it over the course of 45 minutes while watching some
TV. (John Leguizamo is an awesome storyteller.) I felt it kick in pretty
quickly, definitely stronger than the last time I had it. A pleasant buzz that
seemed to heighten feelings of empathy and joy. This time the sedative
properties hit me hard. My body felt heavy and had a good feeling of deep
relaxation.
The bitch part, by then I was too tired and too unmotivated
for any magical work. Note to self, get straight to the magick, it will kick-in
fast enough.
I’ve had on-and-off insomnia for the past year, and last
night I wisely chose to forgo my ambien. Slept like a fucking rock for nine
hours. Which was awesome. No dreams I can remember, but an excellent night’s
sleep.
You knew this post was coming, right? Let’s get some points
of order out of the way. First, yes, you can do magick without drugs. Why you
would want to remains a mystery to me. Drugs are not a “short-cut.” The use of entheogens
by spiritual practitioners goes all the way back through pre-history. I think
it’s pretty inconvertible to say that drugs have been a part of most religions.
All the way from the wine you drink at a Catholic mass to ayahuasca. If you
want to argue that all of those magi were wrong, take it somewhere else.
Point of order number two: The creator of this blog does not condone the use of illegal drugs.
Please follow all local laws when imbibing substances. Those using substances
should be of sound mind and body. When in doubt, consult a physician. I highly recommend
doing as much research as possible before taking any substance. Please see: Multidisciplinary
Association for Psychedelic Studies (MAPS) http://www.maps.org/.
With that out of the way, I’m actually going to talk about a
drug that is legal in all fifty U.S. states – blue lotus.
The Egyptians obsessed over blue lotus, also known as the
blue water lily, aka nymphaea caerulea, which grew along the banks of the Nile.
The blue lotus is perhaps the most common motif in Egyptian art, appearing
throughout all phases of Ancient Egyptian culture. While the lotus has multiple
symbolic meanings in Egyptian culture, and remains a powerful symbol in many
traditions, especially Hindu (albeit a different strain), the obsession with
the lotus probably has a lot to do with its psychedelic properties. Records of
Egyptians drinking lotus steeped in wine, eating lotus, and smoking lotus are
numerous.
The active ingredient in blue lotus is aporphine, a
substance not yet well researched or understood. Numerous psychonauts report that
blue lotus has effects similar to MDMA – with the user experiencing heightened
emotions, particularly feelings of connection to others, and a warm-fuzzy
feeling. Unlike MDMA, lotus is not an amphetamine. In fact, it acts as a
sedative, and has been useful for some in eliciting lucid dream states.
I tried blue lotus a few times a couple of years ago, making
a tea of lotus stamens with about 5g per cup of tea, steeped for about ten
minutes. I can attest to the similarities with reports of MDMA use, although
those effects were extremely mild. Overall, a great way to relax.
I’m gonna go a little deeper this time, having just
purchased 28g of dried lotus stamen from my favorite source for legal herbal psychoactives, Bouncing Bear Botanicals. Full disclosure, yes, that’s an affiliate link and if
you purchase using it I get a discount on future orders. Any instructions to be
found on using blue lotus are all over the place. Everyone seems to have a slightly
different opinion. Some believe the flowers are best, some the stamens. Some
used prepared tinctures, others fresh. I’m using the stamens again because it
makes sense to me that the stamen would have the highest concentration of the
plant’s chemical byproducts, but I can be totally wrong. All I know is it
worked last time. I may try using the dried flowers in the future.
My intentions for my mere 28g are as follows:
Use 20g to make a lotus wine. I’m doing this by merely
pouring off some of bottle of sweet riesling and adding the dried stamens. I really
looked for an Egyptian wine to use, but it being an Islamic culture now,
exported Egyptian wine is a difficult find. The choice was made simply to
offset some of the bitter aspects of the lotus. I’m going to let that steep in
the fridge for two weeks, try some, and then let it steep for two more weeks
before removing all of the dried plant material. I also intend to eat a pinch
of the used plant material when I drink the wine to try and heighten the
effects.
I’ll use 5g to make another cup of tea. To honor my gods and
ancestors and help cover the taste, I will brew it with an herbal tea imported
from Poland, made of apples and rosehips. I’ll let the lotus steep for fifteen
minutes, and this time will also eat a pinch of the used lotus to strengthen
the effect. Keep in mind, IMHO the taste of the blue lotus ain’t that bad, but
it’s not that great either. I’ve had worse.
The last three grams I will mix with my regular smoking
herb, and give that a try.
So expect some trip reports in the near future, and probably
some more history on the blue lotus.
I am gonna belabor the point. I don’t want to put this in
absolute terms, but you should, if at all possible, be working with a group of
magi. In my experience, there is little else that will improve your practice as
much as learning from your peers.
Don’t tell me you can’t find other people who are interested
in magick. You have the internet. I assume most of you have friends, and you’ll
be surprised how easy it is to get them into it. Don’t tell me you don’t have
the time. Make it a priority. Don’t tell me you are too surly, introverted,
weird, or just anti-social. You’re a godsdamn magician! You can do anything.
There are a few rare exceptions. People in extreme poverty,
people living under tyranny (that can be social tyranny, like abusive SOs and
family), and people with disabilities. Don’t get me started on magical groups
who don’t provide for people with disabilities, that’s another topic. But if
you don’t fit in one of those categories, find the others! Get your ass in a
car or on a bus and do magick with others.
I drive from Indianapolis to Kansas City twice per year
(2,000 miles). Indianapolis to Rockford, IL, at least three times per year
(1,800 miles). Indianapolis to Bedford, IN once per year (200 miles).
Indianapolis to Cincinnati (200 miles). That’s over 4,000 miles a year, with my
old ass crashing on air mattresses and eating Cliff Bars to make it work. Some
of it involves camping, and I hate fucking camping. But it’s worth it for those
precious days where I can do magick with the people I love.
It will be work. There will be drama. There will be people
you don’t like. There will be logistical nightmares. I know you are thinking
right now that there is no way you can do it. Try it. Just once. Go to a pagan
festival that has rituals. Throw a party for your friends where each of you
bring a ritual to perform. Once you do, you will thank me.
What does this have to do with ancestors? Not to be a
bummer, but if you are a part of a magical tribe long enough, one of those
people are gonna die.
I started writing this post wanting to describe those
amazing people. I have already written about Mordecai Sova, and probably said
more than I should. She was a very private person. But that event changed me in
so many ways it’s hard for me to even talk about magick anymore without talking
about her.
Let’s instead talk about Dr. D. He’s probably a more
interesting case in some respects, because I never actually met Dr. D. The Doctor committed suicide shortly after I joined the IOT and met my current magical
family. He’s interesting for a whole lotta reasons. One, he’s now become a
legendary figure. His veneration is now generational. Everyone who joins our
tribe learns Dr. D’s stories. In my working theory of EMAN, that means he’s now
an “elevated” spirit. If a spirit becomes the subject of veneration by people
outside their direct blood-kin, and those people pass on the stories of that
spirit, they are on their way to godhood. At least that’s what a lot of anthropologists
believe, as we have evidence of multiple people who were once kings, local
culture heroes, and important magi later being turned into gods. Or something
like a god. Note that in Voudon the lwa are not actually gods specifically
because it is believed they were once humans, at least some of them. It’s
complicated and differs depending on lineage.
I absolutely do believe that veneration in this world
bolsters a spirit’s cred in the afterlife. That means they have more allies and
more influence in the spirit world. I can also say from personal experience
that when a magus crosses over, they take with them many tools for crossing
spiritual boundaries. That makes contacting them all the more easy and gives them
more options for influencing the physical world.
The second interesting thing about the good Doctor is that
he is venerated by multiple traditions. I can’t speak personally for any member
of the IOT as far as direct veneration goes, but he is certainly honored by
that organization. My physical link to Dr. D comes from that bottle of whiskey
you see pictured above. That’s something the Doctor and I share, a love of fine
whiskey. That particular bottle was used in an IOT ritual honoring him after
his death. (Oops, there I go breaking oaths again.) He is directly venerated,
and is considered a Saint of Emergent Magick, specifically by my tribe, Reynahschar.
He was also initiated into a Palo Mayombe lineage. I have never been initiated
into Palo, and would never claim to be a Palo practitioner, but my tribe, in a
very real sense can now claim a Palo lineage through Dr. D.
The last, most interesting bit, is complicated. I don’t
think anyone can say for certain why another human being takes their own life.
Was it mental illness? Did Dr. D become a victim of his own hubris and fail to
protect himself adequately from the negative spiritual forces that many magi
truck with? Or was it his last great magical experiment? Probably some
combination of all of that and more. I do have in good confidence that Dr. D
wanted to be a spiritual ambassador after he died. He wanted to be contacted
after he passed over, and he wanted magi to remember him.
I don’t know if that makes it any better. Many people were
deeply hurt by his actions and feel resentment. I can’t blame them. I don’t
know if he was in so much pain that it really was a valid option. It’s too big.
I know not having met him personally colors my viewpoint, but in a moral sense,
I just can’t judge what he did one way or the other. What do you say about a
man willing to take the ultimate leap in the service of his craft? I just don’t
know.
I know that right now, suicide is not an option for me. I
have way too many things to prepare before my death. Just wait, there will be
multiple posts on that project. Of course, I could be a fool and I could drop
dead tomorrow. But I do believe one of the ultimate goals of any magus is
preparing for their own death. What goals do you have in the spirit world? Who
will join you in that quest?
The custom is rooted in pre-Christian rites of evoking the nature after winter solstice (after ‘New Sun’ when the days start growing longer), and is still practiced in Poland throughout January and beginning of February each year – during the whole carnival season.
In these rites groups of people dressed in symbolic costumes with musicians are wandering from house to house in a joyful parade, creating noise (e.g. ringing bells and singing loudly) and pulling harmless pranks, all in order to put the community in a festive mood. The popular costumes included on the pictures are for example ‘bears’ (which symbolize waking up from the winter hibernation), ‘death’ (beginning of something new), ‘devils’ (winter darkness and evil forces in nature) and the most important ‘dziady’ (symbolic ‘ancestors’ – souls of the deceased wandering on the Earth).
It’s observed under many different local names in Poland, and the term of the general custom – kolędowanie – comes from the word kolęda, which is associated with Christmas carols nowadays but originally meant simply a joyful New Year’s song in old-Polish.
Wow, this post is amazing. It makes me feel sad in many ways that I know so little about the traditions of my people. Like why does that guy have a photo of a naked porn star on his hat? Is she is a representation of the Spring Maiden? That’s fucking awesome. Chaos Magick alive and well in the Polish countryside.
Hey Frater T, all you have been doing is talking about
ancestors. What about spirits of place? What about spirits of plants, and all
those other cool spirits more commonly associated with Animism? We’ll get to
them, don’t worry. Mind you, those are the types of spirits I have the least
experience with. But that’s okay. One of the themes of this blog is getting
back to the bottom. Going back and improving the foundation of my spiritual
practice. Which is why I have to start with ancestors.
I have never been one to tell someone how they should
practice magick. Magick is inherently dangerous, no matter how careful you
think you are. If you want to just dive into the deep end and start with hard
core goetic demon evocation, I’m not gonna stop you. Fuck it. Do it. I did a
lot of dumb shit that I was not prepared for and failing is part of the
learning process. I’m lucky that I had people supporting me. I have a few
scars, but my only real regrets are that I wasted a lot of time doing bad
magick that didn’t get me very far.
Emergent Magick (EMK) often uses the metaphor, “Citadel of
Belief.” This is one of the key differences between Chaos Magick and EMK. In
EMK you constantly build upon the knowledge you have received. Chaos Magick
tells you to chuck a belief when it becomes inconvenient. I’m not saying all
chaos magicians do this, and none of them build upon their previous work
(although in a technical sense those magicians that do may be doing EMK and not
realize it.) I’m also not saying that holding on to a belief structure doesn’t
have its drawbacks. You certainly run the risk of dogmatism. But that’s why it’s
essential to work with a tribe whose members have differing paradigms.
But a Citadel of Emergent Animism is more than that. More
than just knowledge. It’s building up a coterie of spirits that you work with
on an ongoing basis. These are the spirits that populate your Citadel. They
guard it against hostile spirits. They clean the place up. They are your
advisers.
This all takes time, a lot of time. I’m talking years. And
the work never stops. You must constantly maintain those relationships. Just
like your human friends you gotta hang out with them on a regular basis and
truly get to know them. You have to be there when they need you, then they will
be there when you need them. Yes, spirits need things. Mostly they need contact
with the world so they can keep learning and growing. The work doesn’t stop
when you’re dead. It just changes. And all those offerings and attention are currency
for them. It gives them the ability to do more.
You could just keep Pokemoning daemons, summoning them up
one-by-one off a list and coerce or trade with them for favors. But if you’re
going to treat them like something you just toss out when you need something,
they are going to treat you the same way.
Since you have now learned I’m a big geek, let’s use another
geek reference. I’m a huge fan of the game Mage:
The Awakening, for obvious reasons. In Mage,
if a character specializes in spirit magick they eventually end up creating
what’s called a Spirit Court. A group of spirits they either created or
summoned that they trust and work with regularly. So fuck it, let’s just steal
that term. What you need to be doing is building your own Spirit Court.
As I’ve said more than a couple of times now, ancestors are
the best place to start because they almost always have your best interests in
mind. Working with local spirits of place wouldn’t be a bad option either,
because most of them want the beings that live within or near them to thrive. Also,
I’m not saying that if you already have a relationship with a god or other
alien spirit that you should quit that. Keep it up, but also start working with
spirits that are closer and have a more relatable perspective.
Working with more relatable spirits also gives you practice
dealing with other spiritual entities. You learn how to listen to them. What
signs they may use. How they often use symbolism to convey complex ideas that
can’t always be put into words. You learn about their feelings and how they
change over time. You learn how to gauge their opinion of you and use that to change
your practice in ways that are more pleasing to them. Or you may learn they
aren’t the type of spirit you want to be dealing with.
Remember that your ancestor lineage goes way beyond the
people you knew or those you have learned about directly. Everyone’s family
tree goes back to Africa. Ask the spirits you know to introduce you to the ones
you don’t. You do this by learning about where your family came from. If your
family came from Poland, collect Polish things, learn Polish history. But do
more than learn important dates and people, learn how those people lived. Find
things that may be familiar to them and use those to attract those spirits. You
don’t have to go out and find expensive art pieces and artifacts, though that’s
fine if you do. You can make traditional dishes and use them as food offerings.
You can simply use pictures of your native land. This is why pre-historic,
hunter-gatherer societies fascinate me. Know how they lived and what was important
to them and you will have better communication with those spirits.
So the next time some rando spirit asks, “Who the fuck are
you?” You too can answer, “Ego sum Legio.” I am Legion, for my ancestors stand
with me.
I have a message from cousin Max.
“All you can really do is be kind to your loved-ones and be kind to your friends. That is what truly changes the world. The legacy of those acts of kindness.
Of course, you must oppose tyranny and hate. But that is the work. That is your job. Do a good job and put the work in, but when the work day is done, forget about it.
Think instead on perpetrating those acts of kindness. Think about spreading joy.”
One of things I want to do with this blog is talk directly
about my ancestors and tell their stories. I think with all the shit going on
in the world, and the stark divisions in the U.S. coming to a head this
election day, it is the perfect time to talk about Cousin Max.
Old Frater T has been having a shitty week and I’m glad I
wrote out a few of these blog posts in advance. But I’ve run out of backlog,
and this one is coming to you raw. I wish I had time to go into the Cult of the
Saints as the continuation of ancestor veneration in Europe, and the nuances of
working with spirits of a faith that I have all but completely relinquished.
But I don’t have time for that. Let’s just talk about Max.
That’s Saint Maximillian Kolbe, my fourth cousin, the first
saint canonized by John Paul II, another fellow Polack. I don’t know what made
my grandmother happier, having a Polish pope in her lifetime, or having that
pope declare a member of our ancestry a saint. Her love of JP II was so intense
she would take pictures of the TV whenever he was on it.
I’m talking about Max today because Max fought Nazis. He was
by no means a perfect man, and his hate-on for the freemasons is upsetting. His
utter devotion to Mary was inspiring, but we disagree heartily on my view of
Mary as vestigial goddess worship. I have been known to stop at shrines to Mary
and say prayers to Babalon (I can feel Max cringing right now.) The links are
there if you look deep enough. While Mary has been seen as a virgin since the
earliest days of the Church, not all early Christians agreed with that
perspective. Many Christian gnostics saw her as a representation of Sophia. I’ll
let you do that research yourself.
Max and I agree on two important things. If you can help
relieve suffering in the world, do it. Also, fuck Nazis. I am proud to share
with you the story of Max’s martyrdom taken from his biography at the Jewish
Virtual Library.
“During the Second World War he (Maximillian Kolbe) provided
shelter to refugees from Greater Poland, including 2,000 Jews whom he hid from
Nazi persecution in his friary in Niepokalanów. He was also active as a radio
amateur, with Polish call letters SP3RN, vilifying Nazi activities through his
reports.
On February 17, 1941 he was arrested by the German Gestapo
and imprisoned in the Pawiak prison, and on May 25 was transferred to Auschwitz
I as prisoner #16670.
In July 1941 a man from Kolbe’s barracks vanished, prompting
SS-Hauptsturmführer Karl Fritzsch, the deputy camp commander, to pick 10 men
from the same barracks to be starved to death in Block 13 (notorious for
torture), in order to deter further escape attempts. (The man who had
disappeared was later found drowned in the camp latrine.) One of the selected
men, Franciszek Gajowniczek, cried out, lamenting his family, and Kolbe
volunteered to take his place.
During the time in the cell he led the men in songs and
prayer. After three weeks of dehydration and starvation, only Kolbe and three
others were still alive. Finally he was murdered with an injection of carbolic
acid.”
Probably part of the reason I am social worker today is my
family’s belief in helping others. Even if Max and I argue about just about
everything else, we agree that if you are honestly devoting your life to easing
the suffering of others, you’re okay in our book, no matter what gods you are
calling on.
And fuck Nazis.
Max has become the patriarch of my family’s ancestor
spirits. They often, but not always, defer to him, and trust his judgement when
representing my family in this world and across the veil. It is always Max I
bring with me when I leave home to represent for my ancestor spirits.
One of my fondest memories is visiting his shrine here in the
U.S. in Marytown, IL. I wandered the beautiful church and grounds, inspired by
the spiritual presence there, lighting candles and watching the monks’ afternoon
prayer service. I took the ancestor flag I made for him and touched it to the
vessel containing some of his remains, hair and fingernail clippings said to be
kept by the camp barber at Auschwitz. Yes folks, Frater T is in possession of a
bona fide third-degree relic of the Catholic Church.
I can’t seem to make peace with my living relatives. But at
least I can make peace with my dead ones. I just have some hard-lines I will
not cross. Like tolerating Nazis.
I hope this can be an inspiration to those who look back at
their ancestors and think they can never work with them because of spiritual
differences. If you can find just two things to agree on, the rest can be
negotiated.
In my last post, I said something that should have given you
pause. When describing spirits of the dead, I said, “They can even be exploited
if a magus is so inclined. If they can’t learn to chill even after they’re
dead, fuck ‘em.”
No one told you that being a magus makes you a nice person,
right? There are reasons why necromancy is reviled by many cultures. Most of
those reasons are bullshit based on fear and control. But being a necromancer
does sometimes mean blurring some lines. If you as a magus decide you may need
a weapon at your disposal, even just for self-defense… well weapons come at a
price. A weapon is not an innocent thing, despite what the NRA wants you to
believe. A weapon always requires you to compromise your innocence. A weapon
symbolizes you are willing to do harm. A spiritual weapon can be a costly thing
indeed.
The most powerful weapon in my spiritual arsenal? Without a
doubt – Deadwater. What is Deadwater you ask? Lucky for you folks I know the
leading expert. The number one source. I turn you over to the words of my beloved
brother, Frater Yaramarud, the man who provided me with this amazing substance.
“My first encounter with Deadwater came nearly a decade ago.
At the time, I saw it purely as a novelty and not something with the nearly
boundless potential that I know today. Traveling down the road with my good
friend Frater Dreadnaught, and an ex-partner of mine, the three of us had made
a late night decision to stop at the next cemetery we found in order to waste
time in a way that people in their early twenties are wont to do. When we
finally found one and had parked the car, a light in the center of the cemetery
had drawn our attention to a pump well gently illuminated beneath it. My
initial thought was one of curiosity and bewilderment. What reason could there
possibly be for there to be a well here? With this question unanswered, it
dawned on me that the corpses surrounding us had, beyond any doubt, decayed and
seeped into the table from which this well drew.
After jokes and general fucking around, we left the cemetery
without even noting its general location. Though I had lost contact with my
ex-partner, Fr. Dreadnaught and I remained close friends. During this time, he
had enlisted in the military and left our home state for roughly 7-8 years.
Though we often discussed the possible location of the Deadwater, the only
thing that either of us could remember was the highway that it was most likely
located on. With him gone for years and me being the only person that could
feasibly find this place, I did all I could do in order to locate it. Driving
up and down the highway proved fruitless, as did looking at maps of cemeteries
along the route and cross-referencing them with Google. My last effort was to
post an inquiry on a local genealogy group under the guise of searching for the
grave of a relative. This too led to nothing. I was forced to give up, and so
it was for about six years.
Last year, however, things changed. Fr. D had moved back
from California and had spent some time living with my wife and I. It was
during this time that we had become determined to find this Deadwater once
again. As we had both evolved in our magickal practice, it had become less of a
curiosity and more of a holy grail; here was a tool that had so much latent
potential, and yet it was completely out of my reach. One night in September of
2017, we had decided that, since it was once again physically possible for us
to find it together, we would do exactly that.
I’ll spare you the details of the ritual itself suffice to
say that Fr. D and myself had performed a Goetic invocation for executing our
will. In hindsight, we had made a mistake. For our statement of intent, I had
simply said, “It is our will to invoke XX to lead us to the Deadwater
located along Highway XX.” It was during the ritual
that I was mentally given a map of the county through which the highway ran,
with a marker placed by the demon. With the image still firmly visualized, we
pulled up a map of cemeteries in the county that this marker could possibly
represent. After making a list with their corresponding addresses, we left in
search of the Deadwater.
It was the middle of nowhere; we were surrounded by corn
fields in every direction. After taking the final turn, still flanked by corn
on either side, the GPS indicated that we had arrived at our destination: the
first cemetery on the list. There was nothing. Just corn. As Fr. D was
rechecking the address, I slowed the truck to a stop. Just before we had become
entirely motionless, the field opened up to reveal the stones we were looking
for, but they weren’t familiar at all. There was no light in the center. It was
just darkness. Despite this, we decided to look around anyway. After all, we
had the entire night to look, and maybe the light had burned out, or our memory
of the place was faulty.
We spent roughly 30 minutes wandering between the
gravestones, splitting up to cover more ground. As we both began to lose hope
and had called out that we should go to the next address on the list, I noticed
a dim light in the distance. I called to Fr. D to meet me and we could explore
this light together. Once we had reconvened, we started walking together
towards the light. Not even ten steps from when we started, our headlamps
simultaneously crossed, revealing before us a pump well.
This was not the same well. We both knew that, and yet a
shiver ran down both of our spines. We tested it. It worked. The demon had
shown us the way, though due to our lack of precise wording, it was not the
same well we had seen all those years ago. We had prepared for this moment and
filled several bottles with the water, water that contained the decayed remains
of hundreds of bodies, water that was the distilled essence of the dead.
Since that night, I have utilized the Deadwater in multiple
ways. The first ritual that we had done with it was a joint effort between Fr.
D and myself. He had volunteered to drink a small portion of the water, and a
ritual was formed around this primary action. Performed twice, we discovered
through Fr. D’s gnosis that he was able to visualize and speak to his own
ancestors. Thus, not only did this water stand as an essence of the dead that I had discovered through my own later experimentation, it was able to
form a link between their realm and our own.
Its apparent linkage to death and focal point of death have
proven invaluable. Apart from the aforementioned use of contacting one’s
ancestors, I have used it as a method of simplifying my altar. Rather than
having dozens of pictures of my ancestors for veneration, I find it just as
effective to place a bottle of the water with an image of my family crest as a
sort of condensed fetish. Another similar use I have found is mixing the water
with the gravedirt of my grandmother in order to form an anointing solution
that has a direct link to my lineage and those that came before. In using it as
a kind of “essential oil of death”, I have found that it works with great
success in “jinx” or “hex” work as a medium for freezer spells and the like. It
has also worked equally well as an intensifier for other gravedirt workings and
as a component for spirit work. Though these cover only my own current
experiments with the Deadwater, I know that its potential has exceeded every
expectation that I have had for it. As I continue to find new uses, it
continually astounds and amazes me.”
What’s the first lesson to be learned from this amazing
story? Have a tribe! There are other awesome magi out there. You can find them.
It will take hard work and dedication to actually work together. I travel
thousands of miles a year just to be with my tribe. But it’s so damn worth it
when you experience that love and are gifted with magical knowledge, and receive
gifts like 750 ml of Deadwater.
Lucky you, you can buy it online from Frater Yaramarud at
his most excellent store, Welcome to Tarotdise, where he and his wife sell some
amazing hand-crafted occult products.
Back to the original point and my experiences with
Deadwater. As far as I know I am only the second person dumb enough to drink
some of it. I immediately tasted the earth and rot of the grave. My vision
dimmed, and I felt myself slipping between the land of the living and the realm
of the dead. All from one sip. BTW, I in NO WAY endorse drinking the Deadwater.
It is not sold for consumption. If you get intestinal parasites or a fungal
infection, that’s your problem.
Meditating on the bottle sitting on my altar has produced
some interesting visions. You can literally see the angry spirits swirling
around in the bottle. No, they are not happy to be there. And I get the feeling
the Deadwater captured some of the most malicious spirits of that particular
cemetery. Is it wrong to use them for my own devices? Probably. But a magus
gotta do what a magus gotta do. I’ll talk some more about the nuances of such
necromantic work in a later post.
In my opinion, Deadwater is essentially spiritual toxic
waste. No other spirit I know likes to go near the stuff. I really don’t want
to meet the spirits that would enjoy it. For example, I recently had an
altercation with a certain Red Goddess who has been fucking with my love life
hard. Of course, she laughed at my admonitions of her cruel little games. Until
I threatened to pour some Deadwater over her statue. She shut the fuck up real
quick after that. Is it truly a threat to a goddess? I don’t know, but I
certainly got the impression she wouldn’t enjoy the experience.
As noted, Frater Yaramarud had somewhat different
experiences. Maybe it’s the batch I got. Maybe it’s his intent when using it,
or how he mixes it with other substances. Maybe those spirits just don’t like
me for whatever reason. You don’t have to use it as a weapon.
Yeah, I know a lot of this sounds a bit crazy. But part of
being a magus is learning to frame your experiences in a mythic context. As my
hero Miguel says, “Write your own story. Live your own myth.” Be hardcore. Get
yourself some Deadwater. Better yet, harvest some of your own. Be prepared to
do a lot of banishing before and after you do something like that.
