Yes there are Christian wizards and witches. And it’s a long standing tradition. You can find them anywhere in the world. Even among Protestants. And yet the more conservative branches of Christians are always talking about not using magic.
So as a Christo Pagan I figured I would dedicate this week’s post just to Abrahamic Magic!
Don’t practice witchcraft! Said the old Wizard in his regalia swinging the magic incenseback and forth……
Before I do, let me say this : I am a Christo Pagan. So my views are not 100% the same as others. There are Christian Magicians who absolutely are Monotheist and are even Priests or Deacons in multiple denominations. But they’re monotheist. They wouldn’t agree with most of what I believe.
They would agree with me on the mystical nature of God and his spirit beings. Be they Saints, Angels, or even the nature spirits that some Christian mystics believe in. That goes back to Hebrew culture about mysterious entities in the Earth God created alongside humanity. Not angels or demons but something else entirely. So I do not claim to represent everyone.
Some people mentioned here aren’t full witches per say. They are spiritualists and mediums of the Christian tradition. But I would still call them magic users of some sort. I’m just randomly adding links on here to things and people I find fascinating.
Plague art depicting the dead during the Black Plague via CVLT Nation
I don’t even know where to begin. But I did this for the benefit of everyone who reads my blog. Instead of making one giant monstrosity of a post, I will brake it down into parts. So now I am left with figuring out how to write this. So where do I begin?
Week 1 : Weird Ass Shit
I hate this thing, no this isn’t an actual picture of the clock. I wouldn’t post that anywhere online.
So this family asked if I could stay at their house for a week or two. It ended up being slightly longer than that. In fact I celebrated the entire Parentalia over there. Figuring I could tap into the power of the ancestors to help out. And banish what was there.
That also means I spent Valentine’s with one of the most dysfunctional families ever. A lot of weird shit happened. I am not allowed to say how I was contacted. I am not allowed to even make up names for the family members. Yes they’re that paranoid.
But I let them know I write of my experiences. And while the husband was upset (more on him later) I let him know I don’t give a fuck. He was lucky I was even there to put up with them. That is the least they could do. So he can kiss my ass.
I get the feeling that maybe they have a reason to be so paranoid after all. That family is shady as fuck. I wasn’t comfortable being there at all. They weren’t delinquents or anything like that. I wasn’t afraid of being stabbed.
But it’s hard to focus on paranormal activity, when you’re surrounded by people who aren’t truthful. So I show up at around noon. I asked where most of the spirit activity was manifesting. And when. They said at night and all over the house. So I choose to sleep on the couch even though they had a guest room.
This is the center for energy, the common ground for everyone living there. And there I made my stand. The family dog liked me. But would not stay with me. They said that was strange.
When I asked them to elaborate they wouldn’t tell me shit. Because they were testing me to see if I was for real or not. Just fyi. If you want someone to help you, don’t bullshit them. Or beat around the bush.
I have seen skeptics who need help do this to the mediums and others they hire. To “test them”. You can test my balls on a hot day in Hell. Don’t waste my fucking time. I damn near almost left.
And even now I still get the weird feeling they didn’t tell me everything. Normally I’d tell them to go fuck themselves. But they have kids ages 6 to 17. And a sweet pooch who was afraid all of the time. What could I do?
But here’s one of the ways in which not telling me the info I needed caused this to be such a lengthy fucking problem. The activity started in the master bedroom. It would have been nice to know that instead of wasting my time playing psychic catch-up. The Mom didn’t say anything to me. Hell she hadn’t said anything to anyone.
Because she assumed that it was her imagination. And didn’t want to worry anyone. But for a week before the incident I am about to talk about, she felt goosebumps in the bathroom. So did the husband.
(A testosterone filled skeptic douche bag, who felt the need to mock my faith)
The 15 yr sister was was in the bathroom making a video of her trying a dress on. It was for her friend. And explaining fashion stuff like she was an influencer. When she entered the bathroom and recorded the video, this weird black shadow that looked almost like a person crossed right in front of her. It happened on video while she was recording it live.
It wasn’t a case of looking back at video evidence and seeing it afterwards. Then the same shadow was right back in the same spot it was before. And it kept walking across her screen repeatedly over and over until the video went white and shut down. I saw the video myself. But that isn’t the strangest part.
She sent the video to her friend. But her friend showed us the video. The whole thing was in slow motion and silent. You couldn’t hear a thing this girl was saying. And it never got to the shadow in the bathroom.
It looked like some weird found footage shit. It was strange. I told them both to delete the damn video. She wanted to send it to me for paranormal proof. I said fuck the proof.
I don’t care if anyone thinks I’m nuts or lying. I know what I know and that’s it. At the moment they asked me to do a smoke bowl (smudging) ceremony. The problem is I suspected one or all members of the family were behind the activity. Not faking it, but were feeding it somehow.
So while I did do it, and things did calm down, I couldn’t do it properly unless they all left. I explained in detail why that was. And El Douche, the husband, tried to accuse me of wanting to steal. or doing “weird things” which he wouldn’t elaborate what those things would be. I kinda wanted to be sarcastic.
But I kept my mouth shut. The girls and mother realized I was losing patience. And they politely told him to fuck off. Which he didn’t like. But he had no choice.
I started wondering if it was all coming from him. But I was told no right away by my guides.
“He’s too insignificant,” they told me. “He’s not the one behind this,”
So moving on.
They left me with a friend of the family they trusted. And he helped me do the ritual. I liked the guy. He was like a modern day hippy. And he was chill.
He also turned out to be the perfect attendant for my rituals. Very respectful and could be serious when he needed to be. I performed the smudging. And also used holy water and my rosary. Plus I did an exorcism in Latin. Well my own butchered Latin.
I speak Spanish so I pronounced the words as best as I could. The intent and the divine powers is what’s important. Plus knowing the meaning behind the words and having faith. I also did the Buddhist Atanatiya Protection ritual as well. Normally I do that and it goes away.
Even a normal smudging gets rid of what’s in a house. But that didn’t happen here. It was weakened. And irritated. But it did not leave.
So I told the mother on the phone that I needed to dig deeper into the activity. She asked me to sleep in the master bedroom. That it could be on the floor if I wasn’t comfortable sleeping on a stranger’s bed. But to take advantage of their absence to see things. So I made a make shift bed on the floor.
The guy asked me if I wanted his company. And I said,
” It depends. Your friend might want you to keep an eye on me. But in truth, I’m going to confront this thing. And they like to attack while you sleep. So I leave it to you. But you need to know what you’re getting into beforehand,”
He decided not to. Can’t say I blame him. It took me two hours before I finally fell asleep. But it was hard. There was an air of dread in that house.
I have walked cemeteries in the dead of night. And felt fine. The dead are my friends. And I never walk alone. Besides my guides, I ask the Gods and special spirits of the area to walk with me.
But this place had me jumpy. I hadn’t seen anything yet in the first few days. But I could feel that something was off. You know when you have that feeling of dread like something really bad is about to happen? It was weird. This entity made me feel like a child. It made me feel like it was scolding me.
Like I was going to get in trouble with my parents if I didn’t leave. I had to catch myself a few times. And realize I’m an adult. And this thing was messing with me. I’ve done nothing wrong to feel guilty or afraid.
But something was strange about those feelings. Is it possible one of the girls did something wrong? And one or more of the spirits were seeking vengeance? I filed that away in my notes. And the worst part was that fucking clock.
It was an old antique clock that they kept. And you could feel the arms of the clock make sharp movements. Loud movements. Something’s wrong with that thing, I thought. I made notes of that too.
Placed it under the heading of possible cursed or haunted object. Wasn’t sure what it was yet. And when I finally did fall asleep, it was some weird trippy shit. This third night that I was there, I dreamed I was in a garbage dump? Or maybe a Potter’s field. You know, one of those public graveyards for people that got abandoned.
Or who were too poor to afford a proper burial. There was this mass of flies. They were altogether and seemed to be one mass. And then I had the strange thought that they were. One entity with many bodies controlled by a singular intelligence.
I looked at it and said something weird like,
“Do you serve him?”
Remember this is the Dream world. I was trained by my medicine woman to have have some control. But there are things I know when I am asleep that I don’t know when I’m awake. And it replied no almost like a shriek. What I do remember, is that I had enough control in my dream to banish it.
I said,
” Spirit of darkness, in the name of the mystic, (can’t remember what I said ) I command thee to leave now and return to (can’t remember), “
The thing shrieked and flew away. And when I woke up, it was morning. The neighbor had made pancakes and bacon for us both.
“Dude I had the weirdest, trippiest dream,” he said, ” There were giant cockroaches from Hell flying in and out of the house,”
A lot of evil spirits take the form of vermin. That was my first experience in the first week. And I spent almost everyday banishing these fuckers in dreams and in waking life. I will explain the next week tomorow. If I have the energy.
These last few weeks have drained me. I slept the whole day when I got home. And then half a day, the day after that.
As of yesterday, Tuesday the 13th of February the feast of Parentalia and the Lupercalia began. And today is the feast of Saint Valentinus. We got a lot to cover so let’s get started.
– The Lupercalia ~
Lupercus himself
The three day Roman festival of the God, Lupercus. Every year I honor him by doing spring cleaning in my home. In his name, I wash the floors of the home with holy water. And I clean out things I no longer need.
Contrary to popular belief, Lupercalia had nothing to do with “pagan sex orgies. The entire holiday, was dedicated to Lupercus. In Greek religion he is often compared to Lycaean Pan or “wolf Pan”. Pan in his lupine form. Of course not everyone agrees they are the same person.
That’s not a debate I am going to have here.
Rites of the Lupercal
Married women led by Cupid toward the Luperci, the Priests of Lupercus
Lupercus is the wolf incarnation of Faunus. A God similar to Pan. During his month of Februarius, he takes the form of Lupercus to drive out the winter spirits. Specifically shades of the dead. As winter for many cultures is said to be the time of the dead.
The Luperci (brothers of the wolf) the priests of Lupercus, would perform purification rituals for the community. They would use holy water to wash clean all floors and homes. Aspersions of water were used to purify and drive away the dead. And the other spirits that appear during winter. Send them back where they belong.
The brothers of the wolf would wear wolf masks.
Romulus and Remus fed by Lupa the she wolf
Some rituals included remembering Romulus and Remus, the twin brothers who founded Rome. And were raised by the she wolf Lupa. Also known as La Lupa Capitolina (the capitoline she-wolf). She’s very popular in Roman culture as a totem of Rome. The Luperci would go to the Lupercal.
Which is said to be the cave at the southwest of the Palatine Hill. Legend says that this is the cave where Lupa was feeding her milk to the twins. Before the shepherd Faustulus found and adopted them. In the Lupercal, the sacrifices of animals were done for the honor of Lupercus and the twin heroes. Usually goats or dogs.
The one and only thing that I could find that sounded like it was “sexual” was a fertility rite.
So in this picture you see an image on the right of men I assume are supposed to be the Luperci. They don’t have the special masks but whatever. The point is just like the more accurate picture, you see them with thongs called Februa which were cut from the flayed skin of sacrificed animals. This is spoken of in the Topography of the Lupercalia by Dr. Krešimir Vuković. The classicist, ancient historian, and philosopher.
Apparently it was believed that if they slapped a woman on the wrist with the februa, pregnant women were protected during child birth. And women that were sterile, would conceive children. That’s it. Yes it was playful because the priests ran around naked and hit anyone they could. It was a fun festival.
And a bunch of people got hit with those februa. But no sexual acts were performed. Let alone “orgies”. This was a holiday for spring cleaning and spiritual cleansing. And a holiday for blessing people.
This holiday goes on for three more days. Ending on the 15th. The reason people mistakenly believe it’s connected to St. Valentine is due to a coincidence. His day just happens to be in the middle of the Lupercalia. But it is not a christianized holiday.
And the original holiday was not about sex orgies. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. No kink shaming here.
The Feast of St. Valentinus/San Valentino/Saint Valentine
Sometimes he’s portrayed as clean shaven. Other times as bearded like right here. I decided on bearded. I’m not going to add the whole history of this man here. Because we have a lot to cover.
I will say that he’s a mystic saint. And he’s actually really good to call upon in magic. For a variety of things. Including,
– Beekeeping
– And all Diseases, including mental disease, epilepsy, and fainting
-Couples especially those are either married or betrothed to be married this also includes love and happiness in marriage
– And Lesbians!
No, it’s not what you think. Lesbos or Lésvos is an island in Greece. So the Lesbians here, are the people of Lésvos. He’s their patron Saint.
Valentinus healing a man afflicted by epilepsy
So here’s a short story about why he’s associated with love. This small history comes from the History of Ireland (Stair na hÉireann) blog.
“There are many versions of the Legend of St Valentine. But a few things are known. That he was a priest martyred (as in beheaded) on 14th February. In either 269 AD or 270 AD by the Roman Emperor Claudius II. Also known as Claudius the Cruel.
Among Valentine’s crimes was secretly marrying Christian lovers.
Claudius, being a sexist as well as a tyrant, decided that those pesky women were the reason he was having so much trouble getting soldiers for his armies. His reasoning was that men didn’t want to leave their families, wives, or girlfriends to go to war. (Apparently it never occurred to him that they might not be all that willing to die for an emperor they detested.) So his solution was to ban engagements and marriages. An edict Valentine, who had a warm place in his heart for all lovers, ignored.
Many churches claim to be Valentine’s final resting place. Including the Carmelite Church on Whitefriar Street in Dublin. According to the story told there, the Saint’s remains were given to Father John Sprat by Pope Gregory XVI. And a shrine still exists there today,”
Let’s forget the fact that his feast is almost completely about love and couples. It adds to the chthonic energy already present. Because a Saint is a dead spiritual master. A member of the Mighty Dead. So that adds to the ancestral power of all three of these festivals.
Plus him being an occultic saint, with mystical powers just adds more magic to the next few days. Finally, the Parentalia.
Dies Parentales (days of the ancestors) The Parentalia
Image taken from Novae Romae (New Rome)
The Parentalia officially started today at 12pm. When this happens, all images of the Gods must be covered. Beginning February 13, it begins a nine day festival dedicated to the ancestors. The Roman people truly revered their ancestors. Almost as much as the Gods.
Most ancient cultures were like that. In our modern world, most of the faiths and communities have abandoned their ancestors. Even the more modern witches are like that for the most part. I was. It took me a while to learn that the spirits must be honored. And not just human spirits or your relatives.
During the Parentalia, there is no worship to the Gods. All reverence goes to the ancestors. All of them. The first part of the ritual was to be done in public.
The Tomb of Tarpeia
From Wikipedia, Tarpeia the betrayer she betrayed Rome to the Sabines, and they betrayed her in turn
Tarpeia was the daughter of an ancient Roman commander. She was a Vestal virgin. But she was far from holy. She betrayed her own people to the Sabines. Believing that she would receive jewelry payment, she not only betrayed the other virgins to the Sabines.
She actually opened the gates for them to enter the city. When they came in, instead of paying her, they killed her slowly. By crushing her with their own shields. Then tossed her body off of a rock. Which to this day is called the Tarpeian Rock.
The very first part of the Parentalia, was to go to the tomb of Tarpeia. And give an offering to the collective di parentes (dead of the family). On behalf of all of Rome. Traitors and criminals were also ceremonially thrown off the same rock her body was tossed off of. This was seen as a collective sacrifice.
The Mānēs or spirits of the dead, were given offerings at the familial tombs outside the city. Wine soaked bread was one of the most favored offerings. Garlands, salt, sprinkled corn, violets, and wheat was also acceptable to them. Which is kind of weird because salt normally repels the dead. But then again, using spices from the kitchen to feed certain spirits is well documented. The Paterfamilias (father of the family) or head of the family, acted as a sort of high priest of the family.
The Paterfamilias leading the family in veneration to the ancestors, to the far right of the picture you can see the ancestor shrine with small figurines of them
Performing these rituals on behalf of everyone’s ancestors. Presumably I assume that would also mean the mother’s side of the family. But I wasn’t able to find any info online about that. According to the Alchetron site,
” From Parentalia to Caristia all temples were closed, marriages were forbidden, and ‘magistrates appeared without their insignia,’ an indication that no official business was conducted. William Warde Fowler describes the Parentalia as ‘ practically a yearly renewal of the rite of burial,‘ “
Lighting lamps at the tombs was also a good offering for them. So the practice of burning candles to the dead is actually older than we think. For all we know, the church may have adopted such practices from our Pagan ancestors. Every family had their rituals to their dead in secret. And while they did visit family shrines, they also had household shrines.
When they didn’t visit the familial tombs, they would use a red brick as a makeshift street shrine. And leave food offerings there. The dead weren’t just in the tombs. They would wander the streets and re-visit the living world as well. The living also visited the dead in their tombs to have picnics.
From History and Archeology Online,
It reminds me of modern traditions today. With the day of the dead in Mexico. American families who prepare banquets at wakes of their loved ones. Or Southern Appalachian and Liberian families who go to the cemeteries every Decoration Day. Which is the original holiday memorial day was based on.
This is a time of personal meditation. Of contemplation and self reflection. We meditate on our ancestors. On their effects on our lives. This festival is for quiet contemplation.
Trying to reconstruct this feast is hard sometimes. For one thing, the original opening rituals and prayers were done by vestal virgins. And while I have a good relationship with Vesta, I am neither female nor virgin. But I work with gatekeeping and liminal magic a lot. So I explained to her a long time ago, that while I am not a consecrated virgin I wanted to work with her for special prayers.
She accepted. The Gods are reasonable. And they can be flexible with those who love them. The next problem I encountered was I am not in Rome. This is clearly a Roman religion.
Based on the country side and cities. I am no where near the tomb of Tarpeia. So instead I used a shrine to Janus, the God of the double doors. I won’t say where it’s located. But I also use it as a public vault of the dead.
For dead neighbors. But also Roman departed. And random ghosts who roam the streets and need a home can live there. I also have buried dead animals there. Even nonhuman spirits (faeries mostly) who associate with the dead live there.
Especially those who protect the dead.
I usually offer a roasted chicken. But any dinner left over is given to them. Steak, fish, etc..even vegetables and bread. Recently I started leaving them cookies. When all else fails, libations of water, fruit juice, and wine or brandy.
In traditional practice this was an initial offering for all of the dead. And then you focused on just yourself. Problem is, not all neighbors honor their dead. Even in Florida, with all the Santeros and other groups, most people are still in Christian churches. And they have the belief that the dead are fine and don’t need help.
That they’re automatically with God. That they are “protected by Christ”. All this despite the fact that Christian, Jewish, and Muslim lore all mention ghosts. And souls that need help. Or worse, they don’t believe at all.
Which is bad for their poor ancestors who need that love and support in the afterlife too. So my modern practice is split into three : Offerings for the Living, immortal spirits (non humans) to help the dead out. Offerings for the public dead which is everyone. Which I do outside at special shrines. And finally personal offerings at home for my own dead.
Because they do like to have their own rituals done for them. So I honor pretty much any spirit who needs the help right now. And I do it for the community. Sometimes talking to them is sad.
They tell me how much they wish their own relatives would help them. But they’re grateful for any help they can get. So I try to go all out for them. I give them feasts. I give them offerings and spirit homes.
The offerings were done daily. And it served a dual purpose. One was to strengthen the blood bond between ancestor and descendant. Specifically the protective powers of the ancestor. And second, it’s an Apotropaic ritual to drive away enemies of the family.
Be it a spirit or a human. Or even disease and bad luck. It ends at midnight in the 21st of February. On the ending feast known as the Feralia. There’s a bunch of stuff that has to do with holidays that end this day.
But for now that’s about it. But first one final thought.
Astrological Forecast
PlutoMars
Finally, we have a new astrological update from Lynn Hayes. Mars (God of War) enters Aquarius (Water Bearer) on February 13th (Tuesday). The union of fire and water. Perfect for a Dragon. And then immediately joins with Pluto (God of the Underworld).
Which increases the power of this chthonic time. From Lynn herself,
Now that’s just part of what she said in her newsletter. But I thought it bared mentioning. Seeing as this is a conjunction of the Gods Mars and his uncle Pluto. Happy Parentalia, Lupercalia, and Saint Valentinus day!
It’s finally hear! Imbolc! As well as its Christian equivalent, Candlemas or Candle Mass. The Mass of Candles. Just like Imbolc, Candlemas is the best time to bless things. Especially candles. Priests will bless candles with incense and holy water.
To impart special blessings upon the candles.
All Hail the Queen
I use both holidays not only for this, but to bless special charms in general. Currently I am getting ready to bless these.
When these egg shells gain their full power, I’m going to crush them into a powder. In Santeria these powders are called Cascarilla. The blessed egg shell powder is used for a variety of magics. And can even be used as an extra ingredient to empower a spell. Cascarilla is always used for positive purposes.
Like healing. I’ve never heard of them being used for curses.
This year’s Brídeog
I also made my Brídeogor little Brighid. My Imbolc idol for Brighid. As is custom, I walked around the house at sunset. On the day before the Sun entered 15 degrees in the sign of Aquarius (this year the day before was February first). In tradition, a person used a torch to walk around the outside of the home.
I used a lighter instead. It’s easier to hide what I’m doing. In the past I used candles or incense sticks as the torch. With this, I can click the lighter on and off when someone shows up. It still gets the job done.
Although when people see the doll, they freak out.
The bed on which Brighid will sleep tonight
I remember I was caught making a Brídeog a few years ago. Mine are basically poppets that I can make from what’s on the land. Sticks and vines sometimes. It didn’t have a head yet. But as soon as he saw it he turned pale as hell.
I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. Like I said in my last blog post, people assume magic dolls are always going to be for hurting a person. You never ask someone who has a Saint statue if it’s to hurt anyone. Or an image of a man being tortured to death on a cross in clear agony.
Noooooo but those scary ass corn dollies and poppets? It’s El Diablo!
This year I dressed the idol with specific elements. Part of the decorations represented are for Oya. The Orisha (Yoruba God) of storms and winds, the market place, and guide of the dead. She’s also a great warrior. And she brings great prosperity.
Oya’s favorite color is purple. But rainbow colors are also sacred to her. My candle for Oya and the Virgin of Candelaria
It’s said that windy storms, especially thunderstorms, are actually her dancing the skies. She lives in the market place because she loves human activity. So commerce naturally falls under her. However, she’s also the Orisha who can protect us from Iku, the Orisha of Death. And since then, she leads souls to the front gates of all tombs.
Oya’s feast day is the feast day of Candelaria (Candlemas). Which is February 2nd. During this time, Santeria visit cemeteries. And do special offerings to her at the front gates. They also do these things for the honor of the dead.
Asking Oya to bless them.
Then we work with another incarnation of the Virgin Mary. Oya and other Gods were often synchronized with the Virgin Mary. Or other Saints. So when the slaves came, new aspects of the Saints arose. Including a new aspect of the Virgin Mary appeared.
La Virgen de la Candelaria. Or English, The Virgin of the Mass of Candles. Candlemas.
La Virgen de la Candelaria
This African aspect of Mary, is said to be Oya in her Christian disguise. Even the colors seem to point to her. I only half way agree. I think this is the Virgin Mary. But because so many people combined her and Oya together, she took an African form.
Gods often do that when they get adopted into other cultures. And I do see Mary as a Christian Goddess. Not just a Saint. She’s even called “the queen of heaven”. Which is a Pagan title in many cultures for a Mother Goddess.
Mary has often taken different forms across cultures. Appearing as Native, Asian, or in some cases her traditional middle eastern form. So I do a lot of Hoodoo and Santeria during this time. With both her and Oya. Specifically I do a combination of African and Christian necromancy.
It’s a good time to talk to the ancestors. But I’m also talking to the Tuatha Dé Danann.
Brighid and her people, the Tuatha Dé Danann
I am watching shows with Brighid. I put her to sleep now.
The fire of Brighid, doesn’t it sort of look like the sacred heat from Catholicism? Covered Brighid in her own blanket. The Romani woman watches her sleep
And I’m about to recite our favorite poem. Candlemas by Alice Brown. And listen to some Irish poetry. I lit seven candles in honor of Brighid. Two of those candles were for Oya and the Virgin herself.
All in all, it’s been a good day.
Saw this the other day, normally I use regular candles. But this is perfect for OyaThe Tuatha Dé Danann, image from Art Station
I thought I would add it to this little mini article I made. The problem here, is that people always think of Voodoo dolls or Poppets in terms of evil. No one ever talks about their use in white magic or nature magic. For instance, most of the time when I make Poppets, or use African Dolls (not Voodoo, but from Santeria) they are used for religious purposes. For instance, in the feast of Imbolc which is Celtic (Christian Candlemass) we have the Brídeog.
Brídeog is an idol of the Celtic Goddess, Brighid. We make one for her every February. It’s made of straw or corn husks or whatever you can find. And you welcome her spirit by walking around the outside of a house with a Torch. Now in modern times, what I use is an incense stick or a lighter.
Candles are a pain in the Ass. And they attract attention. I sort of flick the lighter on and off. And hide the doll in something while I walk. Then I utter an incantation at the door,
” Bridean, Bridean, thig an nall ‘s dean do leabaidh”
Translation :
” Bríd (Brighid), Bríd, come over and make your bed ”
And then I place her doll near a fake fire place in a makeshift bed. I light seven Candles in honor of her. Because in the old days young women would choose an “Imbolc Queen” from among themselves. And they would wear a stick crown with seven candles in them that were lit. I use the stick holders from burned out incense sticks as the candles at the very top of a Brídeóg or “Little Brighid”.
One of my Brídeóg effigies from 2019
During the Eve before it’s actually Imbolc (for the ancients, midnight was almost always at sunset, not 12am) Brighid was said to inhabit that doll and bring blessings upon the household. Meanwhile the doll actually absorbs all the bad energy out of the home. And then, we go the next day to a body of water like a river or a pond. Or a canal. And we leave the doll at the edge near the water.
She takes the bad things away from us.
During the night of Imbolc, we read poetry to her Doll. And just plain have a really nice time together. Sing songs. Basically it’s a night to relax and enjoy not just spiritual life, but human life. Of course holy fires are important for warding away bad spirits.
Specifically either bonfires or hearth fires. So of course we do our religious worship. But it’s done in a chill way. At least originally it’s like that. Many modern practitioners make a lot of these holidays overly ritualized.
Like even more so than our ancestors did. I suspect it’s the feeling of needing to connect to our higher powers. You could always do the Imbolc celebrations with your children. Imbolc, like Yule was a time of caroling. People went from house to house singing songs.
And begging alms for the poor.
The girls or sometimes boys and girls would carry the Brídeóg in procession while they sang to her. They all wore white with their hair unbound. Afterward, you could feast in your home. The Brídeóg was set in a place of honor, and put to bed with lullabies sang to her. After dinner there would be dancing.
And reading and any activity the family finds enjoyable. Also you have the Imbolc Queen. Where one of the girls would be chosen to wear a thorn crown with seven lit candles in it. You could give all the girls a crown with candles that has been lit but were put out. Also there are arts and crafts activities like making Brighid’s crosses and shields.
Or make Strawboys with hats to accompany Brighid. And straw masks. Basically it’s a day for arts and crafts. You could mold the day to however you like it. I need to point out that this is my research, I am not a Druid.
I do not have the authority to speak. I am a novice in Celtic Polytheism. Do not take my word for it. Take everything, from everyone, with a grain of sand. Cheers,
Many Americans who watched that Downtown Abbey Christmas episode, where confused as hell. You see they were telling Ghost Stories at Christmas time. Many people in the US and the modern world, don’t know that for many, Winter is the time of the dead. Now I’m not talking about the Celts. The Celts didn’t celebrate Yule.
The Norse did. Yule was added to the Wiccan calendar. Which took elements of various European traditions. And sort of merged them together. And other versions of Wicca are even more eclectic.
But Yule was the time when the Norse believed their dead returned to Midgard (Earth).
A sentiment shared by many cultures. Who also viewed winter or “the dark time of the year” as the time ruled by the dead. Or even dark nature spirits. Or dark spirits in general. Let’s take a deeper look.
The Dead on Christmas
Wraiths of the dead returned to Earth
There was once a fascinating tradition in England. Since at least the Victorian era, where people tell Ghost Stories in Christmas time. A tradition I continue because I love a little Halloween in my Christmas. I believe the dead return in Winter time also.
Here’s a great article by Cryptoville on that called The Ghosts of Christmas Past. What’s interesting here, is that in modern times the Celtic Samhain is seen as a feast of the dead. And many people who practice Brythonic traditions have incorporated that belief into theirs. Maybe that’s also from Nordic influence.
Now there is a subset of the dead that we should talk about.
The Dísir
The Dísir, collective of female spirits of the Norse Pantheon. They were honored on December 25th. Which we now call Christmas Eve. But back then the Mothers were honored on that night. It’s dedicated to the Dísir.
It’s basically a word for all female spirits. Female faeries and ghosts. But also your female ancestors and Goddesses. Much even today remains unknown about the Dísir. And points of view of them vary by regions.
German scholars think they are linked to a West German Cult dedicated to female spirits. While others think they’re older. At mother’s night several sacrifices in the feast dedicated to them were performed, called dísablót. An important thing to note here is that Blót or “sacrifice” does not always mean blood sacrifices. A blot could be pouring a libation of mead to a spirit or God.
Or giving cooked food to a spirit or God. There are many types of Blót out there. Although it is believed animal sacrifices were offered during this time. But there is no right or wrong way to do this.
“The Gods and Goddesses, landwights, and honored dead have always received physical offerings of various sorts. These ranged from simple pots of food left in bogs or graves, to golden vessels and great hoards of amber, to the spectacular sacrifices of an entire defeated army along with all its animals and gear, a practice confirmed by archeological discoveries at sites such as Hjortspring, Nydam, and Illerup (see Our Troth vol. 1, chapter 4). In the sagas, a devout worshipper of the gods is called blótmaðr mikill, ‘a great sacrifice-person.‘
Even after the coming of Christianity, people continued to leave offerings at holy springs and trees and fields, and in some areas continued to do so into the modern age. People also continued leaving out offerings to the spirits who guarded their homes and farms,” – Offerings for Norse Paganism | The Troth
In this respect, I see a lot in common with Norse and Celtic views on offerings. My Druid Master even told me that you could offer up swords in ponds or lakes to the Gods. Some were offerings and others were for magic. How badass would it be to offer an entire defeated army to your Gods and spirits? That’s some powerful magic right there. But back to the Dísir,
“Generally, a Dís (singular of Disir) was seen as a powerful supernatural being that took a keen interest in families and estates. Their strength could vary greatly. Sometimes, they were described as mere guardian ancestor spirits, but their power could also inflate to that of minor local gods. The Disir would usually use their power for good—they acted as guardians to families and family farms, and sometimes even lent their protection to individual people. Yet, they did not love unconditionally and were known to take revenge against families or people who had not given proper sacrifice, or had otherwise angered their respective Dís,” – The Mysterious Disir Of Norse Religion
In many ways this sounds a lot like the Agathos Daimon and the cult of the heroes in Greece. Note I am not saying that any of this is the same thing. I’m just pointing out interesting similarities. It seems at least some of the Dísir were probably Demi Goddesses, local spirits, or ancient heroines who offered protection and blessings. The national encyclopedia from Sweden makes that even more obvious.
“In Norse mythology, a dís (Old Norse: [ˈdiːs], ‘lady’, plural dísir [ˈdiːsez̠]) is a female Deity, ghost, or spirit associated with Fate who can be either benevolent or antagonistic toward mortals. Dísir may act as protective spirits of Norse clans. It is possible that their original function was that of fertility Goddesses who were the object of both private and official worship called dísablót,”
– Nationalencyklopedin (National Encyclopedia from Sweden)
But they all agree on the same thing. They were a collective of Goddesses, heroines, and regular female entities. And they were so powerful that apparently like the Nourns, they could manipulate fate. Which makes sense if you realize that this is a massive faction of spirits including Goddesses. Just with the Goddesses alone there is more than enough power to manipulate fate itself.
Now imagine every woman who has ever existed in every race. Both human and non human alike. No wonder even the male Gods and spirits feared them. There is no defending against such power. So Mōdraniht is a very special night.
And Modranicht especially holds a special place in my heart. I have always felt a pull towards it though I don’t know why. It feels like home to me. Later I will explain how this holiday is special to me in other ways. But now I have more or less defined who the Dísir are.
The Demons of Christmas
Krampus Vs. St. Nicholas, notice Nicholas here looks like a Wizard with a magical staff. Similar to depictions of Odin
There’s actually a lot of Christian Christmas traditions where the Devil is a prominent figure. So Christians demonize Halloween and Samhain as being “devil worship”. But their own Christmas traditions feature demons like Krampus and Black Peter. Who are either servants of the Devil, or even Satan himself. And stories of how the Devil losses all his power during New Year’s Eve.
And how a Saint (usually St. Nicholas of Bari/Myra) defeats them. By binding them using some kind of Christian magic. In effect making these demons, familiar spirits controlled by the Saint. Which sounds an awful lot like Solomonic Magic. The demons are frequently seen as being in chains.
From : Atlas Obscura
Symbolizing their slavery to St. Nicholas. The the coal, contrary to popular belief, comes from Krampus, not Santa. Krampus takes children away to Hell. In a sack. Then he leaves behind coal from hell behind.
To torment the family with the knowledge that a demon has taken their child away to Hell. Never to be seen again. And in case that lovely image wasn’t yet engraved in your mind, we have here some Post Cards so you don’t forget. Remember, St. Nicholas isn’t the one who keeps track of whose bad, that’s the Demon’s job.
Looks like they were both on their way to a series of hot dates. Good thing they got modernized. I can’t imagine traveling the world by foot is comfortable or practical. Krampus Christmas card
Now Zwarte Piet or Black Peter, is a controversial figure. Because even though he’s supposed to be a Demon, he’s shown as a Moor. A North African Muslim. The Moors were an advanced African civilization. In fact, when they ruled Spain, they took the Spaniards out of the dark ages.
Only for Queen Isabella and King Fernando to bring them right back to the assbackwards society they were before. Replacing Science and a Culturally Plural society, into a racist society. One with only one culture. And which forced Catholicism upon the people. Even going as far as creating the Spanish Inquisition.
Which forced Jewish people to convert to Christianity, or die. The Inquisition (called the Host back then) destroyed all the sciences and artistry of the Moors of Spain. And replaced it with ignorance, superstition, and prejudice. Even the medical practices of the Moors were abolished. Which means people went back to dying of diseases that could easily have been treated before.
What does this have to do with Black Peter? A lot. Moors were seen as savages. An “ignorant”, barbarian group. Who had no morals or character. The racist European tropes concerning Moors and black people in general, resulted in the creation of the “Blackamoor“.
A racist image of an African Muslim person. And usually the depiction of the Blackamoor was with a white person in black face. Which made it worse. So Black Peter was no longer black because he was a demon. Now he was literally black.
And a Muslim. The perfect demon for a racist society. So in modern times, his image was changed. Instead of a white person in black face, it was whoever was playing Black Pete. With their natural skin color.
And some dirt or soot on their face to lightly blacken it. And the name was changed to Sooty Peter instead. I have seen Black Peter’s image as a white man in nobleman’s clothing. That was years ago. The idea of his name meaning he’s actually a Black person confused me.
And while we are talking demons, we should discuss a subset of undead creature that is neither full ghost or full devil.
The Draugr
The Wild Hunt
Not everything during Yule is merry. As mentioned before, winter is a time of the dead and of the Fae. According to A Dictionary of Northern Mythology by Rudolf Simek, this was the time when all manner of spirits were said to be loosed upon the world. This unfortunately also means evil spirits are out and about. Jólnir and his forces would hunt them down in what is popularly known as the Wild Hunt.
And drive them back into the other world. But at least these were just spirits being driven away. The worst supernatural creatures, were the ones who had physical bodies. It was said that during this time, several physical revenants returned as well. And the worst of them was the Draugr.
Draugr
Meaning “again walker.” These entities are members of the dark dead. They can be aggressive if they aren’t resting well. It was said if a person died on certain days like Yule, they would not rest well in the grave. But other reasons a person became a Draugr was if they were murdered or committed suicide.
Or were not given a proper burial. Such as not being buried on holy ground. The worst of them were evil witches and wizards in life. Evil magic users normally come back as something worse in death. And they would arise as these corporeal revenants.
Basically, these are Norse zombies. That’s an over simplification but it’s the easiest way to explain it. They are one of the most powerful revenants though. They are all said to be sorcerers who can control the weather. These are just some of their powers.
They can do a great many things. And they have the power to curse. But despite this, not all Draugr are the same. Not all Draugr are the people who died. Sometimes they’re evil spirits possessing the corpses of the dead.
Other times they really are the person who passed away. But are angry for some reason, leading to their aggression.
Now, the first legends I heard claimed that the Draugr could not be killed by weapons formed by men. That only a hero who was strong enough could wrestle them to the ground and kill them. However, the video above mentions plenty of times when weapons did kill them. When heroes killed them by decapitating them with swords. Then burned the body to ashes.
And separated the ashes into different bodies of water. So either they can be killed by weapons. Or the hero’s can make weapons kill the Draugr. These were the creatures said to be out tonight. And Jólnir was hunting them.
So tonight while you’re out feasting, raise a toast to the All Father and the Norse Gods. And remember to leave offerings for Oski and his Tomte. And ask for many blessings in this new year. And who are the Tomte? Let’s find out.
The Tomte : Santa’s Elves
Oski, the God who grants wishes and gives gifts, an incarnation of Odin, in the form of an Elf or Tomte
The most well known of the Yule Spirits are the Swedish Tomte or “homestead man”. Also called the Nisse in Norway. These are Elves associated with the winter time. Nisse is believed to come from the name of St. Nicholas. But others say it comes from the word niðsi (“dear little relative”).
And these creatures are the reason Santa Klaus looks the way he does. The way he is portrayed in blue, red, or green clothing as well as the cap he wears, is due to Oski’s appearance as an Elf. The Homestead Man or Dear Little Relative is akin to a house elf. Only these faeries only live on farms. Like all household fae, they protect and bless the home owners.
They range from half the size of a man to the size of a child. They have super strength surpassed only by other supernatural creatures. If a farmer treated the Tomte living in their home well, they would be blessed for life. And anyone fool enough to harass or injure a farmer who had a guardian Tomte or Nisse, was in for a surprise. The homestead fae would stop a thief with their superior strength.
Or perhaps hex a nasty neighbor. Or go over to that neigboor’s house and start a haunting.
Don’t fuck with Faeries
The Tomte could become a powerful spirit guide. Even talisman to the person who knew how to work with them. You had to give them proper offerings of porridge with butter, milk, cream, or honey. Or any sweet and sugary substance you could find. And then make your request of them.
They would often sleep with the farm animals to protect them.
But also out of love for them. They would assist the farmer in the chores. And make the crops abundant. Some of the Tomte may be the dead reincarnated as nature entities. This seems to be a trend in a lot of cultures.
Jólnir in the form of a Tomte. This Tomte doll even has one eye just like the All Father himself. From Grimfrost
Eventually, the Tomte were paired with the Yule Goat. This may even have been an animal that was sacrificed in ancient times. But overtime, the Yule Goat became a goat idol made of straw that was ritually burned at Yule. The origin is that Thor had a chariot pulled by Goats. And Thor is also one of the origins of Santa Klaus.
But we’re focusing on just one origin at a time every year. Later the Tomte became Santa’s helpers. In fact, some traditions have them going from house to house with the Yule Goat. Giving gifts to children instead of Santa himself.
There are also stories of Odin riding his eight legged horse Sleipnir to watch over his people.
The many faces of Odin. Of course we also have Krampus up there
Turoń, the Christmas Bull of Poland
Now, nobody knows for sure where he comes from. The popular theory, is that he’s a remnant of the Slavic Polytheist faith. Possibly connected to a Deity of the Sun. If this is true, it could be that he’s connected to Dažbog. The God of the sun.
And yes that’s a swastika behind his head. No, it doesn’t belong to the Nazis. The Nazis stole the swastika from Asian cultures. And Hitler renamed it the Hakenkreuz (hooked cross) in his letters. Now remember that “Asian” isn’t just people you associate with nations such as China or India, some Europeans fall under that category as well.
Russia and Eastern Europe are also a part of Asia.
So the swastika was actually a common symbol used among Asian civilizations. Even to this day. It’s used everywhere from temple of the God Ganesha in India. To the Temples of the Korean Gods in South Korea. All the way to the Norse and Slavic Gods.
Even some of the people of the United Kingdom had swastikas.
This is the National symbol of the Isle of Man, the Three Legs of Man. First used in the 14th century. Sorry but I am tired of hearing people say it’s a racist symbol when it isn’t.
It’s a variation of the Ancient Sun Wheel.
Supposedly, he was connected to Dažbog. And he was venerated as a type of folk spirit on a holiday called Turzyce. Or at least that’s what the Polish ethnographer and folklorist Oskar Kolberg. He claims a German told him this. So it’s dubious as to whether or not any of this is true.
I have found no real evidence or mention of this holiday online. I would have to talk to Slavic worshippers on this. Or consult a few books to see if this has any evidence. It should be noted though that this comes from Polish tradition. Kolberg would have known his own culture well.
But it doesn’t look like he looked too deeply into this. I couldn’t find anything on Dažbog, the God of the Sun, being connected to a bull. So I consulted the list of Slavic Deities. I was amazed at what I found. I don’t think Turoń is connected to Dažbog at all.
I think he’s connected to Volos, also known as Veles. This God is connected to animals and nature. But also is the Lord of the Dead. And that actually makes a lot more sense. I mean look at this guy.
Is anyone really going to tell me he doesn’t look like some creepy underworld entity? Apparently Volos took on the form of several animals. And among them was the bull. Supposedly he was disguised as a bull in Christian times to continue worship of him. When the church discovered that, they began to disguise him as two Saints. First Vlasiy (Blaise).
Then Saint Nicholas. So who would have thought that we have a Slavic Santa Klaus. And in the form of Volos. And then later instead of St. Nicholas, Volos came to body Satan. Being part of the story of St. Nicholas and the Devil.
So unless someone comes to correct me, it is now my personal belief that Turoń is actually Volos or Veles himself. And that he’s got nothing to do with the sun. He doesn’t even look like an entity that would be connected to the sun. Turoń is connected to fertility. Something that Volos, as a nature God is definitely in charge of.
And Volos constantly changes shape between a bull, an ox, and a plethora of other animals. The only connection we have with Turoń being connected to the Sun God is what he is. An auroch, an extinct species of cattle. That back in the day was considered symbolic of the sun. But that’s pretty flimsy evidence to base on him being connected to Dažbog.
And as stated before, Volos was once worshipped as a Bull in Christianity. At least until the church found out. So there’s actually stronger evidence for my hypothesis than what Oskar Kolberg asserts. Which is basically second hand information from a German man. Not a Polish national.
I am not a trained member of Rodnovery, the reconstructed Slavic faith. But I don’t understand why Kolberg did such a flimsy job on explaining the genuine origins of such a beloved Christmas character. Perhaps it’s just the lazy research of non believers. Christians or secular people who aren’t passionate about these things. Because they don’t believe in it.
Recently someone reached out to me on my blog. I said I do not do readings anymore. I’m tired of dealing with people’s BS. Especially for free. He kept harassing me a million times.
So finally I said,
“Okay so when Bush was president, phone psychics were charging $300 an hour for a reading. Counting inflation, that would be at least $600 now. So hire me for a one hour reading and we can negotiate,”
That was about a month ago if I am not mistaken. Maybe two months. As expected, the dumb ass stopped bothering me. Because I knew. I just knew he would be one of those idiots who messed around with magic.
And expected me to undo his fuck up. And I am not having it anymore……..or so I thought. Two weeks ago, I received this email from a totally different person.
“Please Mr. Magus we need your help,”
(I kind of laughed at the idea of someone calling me Mr. Magus. It made me feel like a high school librarian. No, not just any librarian. I’m Giles from Buffy the Vampire Slayer).
“My cousin is (name of the idiot) he cast a love spell on my best friend. And she and I are getting sick every single day. We went to the local pastor for help but he says he has no idea how to undo what my cousin did. His prayers have more or less worked. But not the way we need.
It always comes back after a few days. And my friend is losing her mind too. And to make it worse, my cousin used some of her hair that was mixed with my hair (🤦♂️) andI feel my own life draining away. I need help. She needs help.
We don’t have $600 or even $100 to pay for your services. But I can send you $50 after a few weeks please help us,”
Mother Fucker. Why do the Gods always send these people my way? Why can’t I have a rich client who thinks their cat is the reincarnation of Salvador Dali? I’ve heard of two mediums who were charging thousands of dollars. To cleanse a property every year. They are making a killing. Getting rid of the “bad luck” for their rich clients.
Meanwhile I get the lunatics binding their own COUSINS and killing people with witchcraft. And they’re broke as hell too! And to make it worse he knew how bad the situation was. He knew his own cousin and this other girl were in and out of hospitals. And he still didn’t tell me. Because he didn’t like the price I gave him.
If he had told me that someone was fucking dying, I would have focused on saving them. ASAP. And even if I hadn’t, he should have said “no price is too high to save my cuz and this girl,”. But this penny pinching prick had thought saving his money was more important than saving lives. I’m not surprised that someone capable of binding a human being would do this.
Binding people to be with you is the spiritual version of rape. Love spells that take away someone else’s free will are rape. Plain and simple. It’s magical roofies. So of course a disgusting abomination like that, wouldn’t care that his spell was killing someone else.
Even if one of those people was his own flesh and blood. I asked myself if it was possible that I was being played. Just because someone randomly emails you and says something doesn’t make it true. Maybe I was being played so I could help them without pay. Or at least a lower price.
But before I could even finish that sentence in my mind, one of my spirit guides spoke. It was true. I emailed her back and said,
“I will not directly get involved in this mess. But I can help you uncast it yourself,”
Religious War
So I taught her how to create a special Judeo-Christian talisman. In fact it also had some Islamic influences as well. It’s based on some of the Western Magic. As well as some mystical Muslim enchantments from the Middle Ages. Essentially it was a “soul box” I helped her make.
It contained the essence and energies of all three people. Then I told her they all needed to make a bonfire. She wasn’t happy. She then explained to me that they didn’t tell their parents. That the Pastor was told someone else was casting the spell.
And wanted to keep it a secret from their parents.
“How old are you people?”
Ages both girls 18 and the idiot is 19 was the reply.
” Time to act like adults and fess up,”
To say shit did not go well is an understatement. For the first week, their parents didn’t even want them to talk to me. And they went to church every single day to grovel to God for help. Didn’t work any better than before. Finally, the cousin put down her foot and told them it was either me or death.
They didn’t approve of me. And made snide comments every time I was on the phone. But they (almost) didn’t interfere anymore. We had already wasted a shit ton of time. So back to the bonfire.
The Fire of Bones
Samhain bonfire
A traditional bonfire is made of bones of sacrificed animals. Sacred woods indigenous to the land. And any holy herbs in your land. I had to consult my Hoodoo and Native herbal indexes to see which would be best suited to a bonfire. Also, anything that they might have that is holy, but falling apart.
Like an old wooden cross that is broken. Or Bible pages that fell out. Something that can add holiness to the fire. They didn’t have anything like that because it never occurred to them to save holy objects for spiritual work. Since she doesn’t come from Florida, I had to check with each First Nation in her state.
Then see what was sacred to them. And even then I had to use my indexes and spirits to choose the correct herbs. No they aren’t Native American, they are white but this whole continent is Native Land. Last Friday night it finally showed up. So then I told them to make the bonfire.
I asked them to try their best to make a friction fire. Where they have to use the friction between two sticks or two stones to start the fire. They couldn’t do shit. So instead I told them to make a few clicks with the lighter to start up the fire with at least that as friction. It’s weak, but at least it’s something.
After the fire was finally set at sunset, I had them toss the ingredients into the fire. The animal bodies they found after picking up road kill. One of them was complaining about the stench to which I stated,
“It’s either the rotting corpse on the road, or your body rotting like it’s a corpse. Choose,”
Shut her up fast. They used old brown sacks to harvest the bodies. From raccoons to dead lizards. And even a rat and a garden snake. I told them they had to place the bodies in the shed and set up a shrine to the Earth Goddess to pray for them.
The families said out of the question. That’s Paganism, and necromancy, and animal worship Blah blah blah blah. So I told them to appeal to the Christian Holy Spirit. The feminine side of God. Parents got angry that I was insinuating the Holy Spirit is female like a Goddess.
To which I corrected them the Holy Spirit is actually two Goddesses : God the Mother and God the daughter. I told them about how Judaism was originally a Polytheistic religion from Canaan. And that the Canaanite religion actually comes from Sumerian Polytheistic religion. I had to tell them what Polytheist means. Which made them angry when they realized it meant Pagan.
I told them,
” You can waste time while your girls are dying because your bastard son and nephew was busy using black magic to spiritually rape one of the girls. I would think that would be more important than all this squabble over religion,”
They tried to scream at me until my ear drum nearly burst. From a loud yell over all of them that suddenly made them quiet. At first I hadn’t recognized her.
“ALL OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT YOUR FUCKING RELIGION! THIS ISN’T ABOUT YOU OR YOUR STUPID BELIEFS, IT’S ABOUT MY LIFE AND (friend’s name) LIFE NOW EITHER STAY AND HELP OR BE QUIET AND LEAVE NOW!!!!!”
I have to say……it was surprisingly cathartic. Listening to this 18 year child scream at a bunch of 40 and 50 year old people. Like they were spoiled children in Kmart 😆. I had the largest shit eating grin on my face you could imagine.
” How long do we pray to the Holy Spirit? “
I could hear someone breathing deeply and tensely. I think it was her.
“Until you’re ready to make the bonfire,”
They had an old cast iron pot in the shed. And I told them to place the bodies in there. And to seal it shut to prevent predators from getting at the dead meat. Food offerings and candles were left near the pot. The food offerings were fruit placed in a large plastic zip lock bag.
I had them do a Mass in honor of the Holy Spirit. They prayed to the Hebrew Goddesses to give light to the animal spirits to move on. They asked for the animal spirits to aid them in the work ahead. The mass lasted a week. And by the time it had ended, the animals turned their bodies into talismans.
Using dead animals as talismans is nothing new. With their bodies added last to the fire, they had now become a true bone fire or bonfire. The last part was for them to pass the soul box between themselves. Each time, placing both their hands on the box and saying,
” Souls intwined now unbind, energies merged no longer converge, be now returned to the flame of life, the flame burns filth away, but it’s light restores my force of life,”
They each felt a “tug” when they uttered the final word. That was a good sign. It meant their energies were preparing to return to each of them. They were re-tethering to their collective souls. We also used the power of the full moon to increase the ritual’s effectiveness.
We waited.
Totems
I waited until I could hear the voices of the dead animals. I waited till I saw them in my minds eye inside the fires. They were ready.
” All of you place your hands on the box. One hand each, the dominant hand. And toss it into the fire, “
They threw the box into the bonfire. And the herbs and other things inside caught fire slowly. I expected it to go up like kindle wood. But it took its slow ass time to catch fire and finally burn. They had varied reactions. One of the girls said she felt nauseous.
The second girl (the cousin) said she felt goosebumps and hot sweat. And the idiot himself was so dizzy that he had to sit down. Their relatives, tried to say that none of this was real. And that this was a kind of hysteria. All in their heads.
They began to interrupt and tell them to stop pretending. While their kids were visibly sick in front of them. And one of them (some random guy) accused me of hurting them. I cut them short over the phone. And told them politely to be quiet.
Because their church couldn’t do Jack shit. And I was their only option because no other spiritual person will sign up for this level of crazy. So it was in their best interest to let me do my work. Unless they wanted some random demon to come to them from their son’s binding. Bullshit, there was no “demon” or any spirit involved in the binding.
It was just random, uncontrolled, energy shooting in all directions. But the idea of a “devil” coming to haunt them if I didn’t finish made them quiet. Sometimes you have to talk to children in a language they’ll understand. After about a half hour the reactions stopped. They said they felt half way back to normal.
And I advised them to continue praying for all bad energy to be burned in the holy fire. I warned the families that the bonfire may take a while to finish. But curiously, the bonfire didn’t finish all of the way. I began asking what the hell was going on and the spirits said that they couldn’t take out all of what had to be removed. So it hit me.
“Hey (dumbass) how exactly did you do that spell?”
The idiot not only put some of his DNA into coffee she drank. No that wasn’t enough. He ingested her DNA too (don’t ask because you don’t want to know). As a way to affix the binding. I don’t know where he learned this shit from.
But only an idiot casts a binding spell on themselves. I wanted to scream. Suddenly I needed more catharsis. Maybe I just need to travel there and beat him silly I thought.
“Well, now you need to eat (secret ingredient) from a restaurant,”
“What?!”
Both women were not happy. It looks like they were scared of this particular animal. Lucky that now a days people eat them in restaurants. Well the legs anyways. But the Romani healing spell I know, says that animal’s legs have to be swallowed like a pill.
And downed with a bottle of beer. Then they have to recite a spell. Calling on the spirit of the animal to “fight” inside the stomach of the bewitched person. Normally this is done also for diseases of the stomach. I have had success with this particular spell in the past.
These animal spirits have forced things out of peoples stomachs you wouldn’t believe. One client I had actually crapped a ball of black hair once. Others have vomited other strange things. Including blood that (I suspect) wasn’t their own. But I digress.
I gave them the English translation of the words in Calo. There was no way they (or I) were going to be able to pronounce that. The three of them ate the animal’s legs. But curiously only the guy and the cousin’s friend were effected. The cousin seemed to be immune.
Probably because even though she was bound to them, that part of the magic only effected the two people who drank the spell. It was the young girl first. Her womb started to hurt. Which shouldn’t have happened. Again, this is an animal that is eaten in restaurants.
And they told me Saturday that this one was cooked to a crisp. To make it as much like chicken as possible. They all had bad gag reflexes except the guy. So they had to chew the meat. But the animal spirits said that was fine so I didn’t say shit.
But the point is there was nothing in that meat that should have hurt her womb. And if something was wrong with that meat, it should only have effected her stomach. Not her womb. But then I remembered. Love spells are a perversion of fertility spells.
The idiot meanwhile complained that his insides were on fire. They had to leave the phone. After about an hour and a half I was called back. Moron was still in the bathroom. Shitting himself dry.
But the girl’s cramps stopped. She said it felt as if the biggest period of her life was going to start. But that didn’t happen. I sensed a lot of negativity in her. And it was going to take some time to heal the after effects.
Grandfather Tobacco
Not an actual image of this totem spirit. But I use it because often in speaking to him he feels like he looks like this.
I told her to work with the spirit of Abuelo Tabaco (Grandfather Tobacco).
I told her to get a red pouch with long red string. One long enough to wear around her waist. And place tobacco leaves inside of it. And pray to the Totem Spirit of Tobacco. The tobacco leaves will soak up the negative energy.
And heal her over time. It’s a practice I learned from Wiccans in Peru. Who merged their religion with traditional indigenous religion. After a while, the bag will fall off on it’s own. And when that happens, she needs to make a campfire.
Which will be a lot simpler. And burn it. To send the bad energy and disease away into the spirit world. All while praying to Grandfather Tobacco’s spirit. I asked the cousin to do the same just in case.
He would heal them both.
It would probably be a good time for them to work together. To pray together for the rest of it to go. The dumbass on the other hand I did not want to help. If he received spiritual damage or not was not my concern I said. He’s a wanna be rapist.
And I hoped the side effects end his pathetic existence. Are you offended by that? I don’t care. This world has too many people like him in it. People that have no remorse. That don’t care about the people they victimize.
Let him deal with the fallout by himself, I said. Eventually the bad energy will dissipate. But then I had to stop that line of thinking. Not because I care or want to be a better person. Simply because I soon realized that if the remnants of that love spell stay on him, he could accidentally infect another woman.
And that person would be harmed due to something he did. Not her. Too many witches don’t think about the consequences of not getting involved. Or not doing anything. Even if the person deserves what they get.
It might unintentionally cause pain to a greater circle of people down the line. And you could have stopped it. Apathy was not the way to go. So instead I helped him. Sort of 😉.
I told him to bathe in apple juice. And pray to the Goddess Nemesis.
Goddess of Divine Justice, Right hand of Lord Zeus, Bringer of pain to Assholes
My wonderful Goddess, Nemesis. Ah what can I say about her? I love this Goddess so much. I have called upon her to exorcise demons. To break curses. And to go after enemies.
She is my sweet Goddess. I love her very much. Most people are scared shitless of her. But I pray to her all of the time. My Sweet Goddess and Queen.
Now “technically” I did help him out. The acidity in foods like apples have in them the power to burn away curses. Apples just also happen to be the sacred food of Nemesis. I also told him to tell Nemesis EVERYTHING he did when he cast the spell. And the reasons for it.
Because he needs to be specific to remove the curse. And to expect a lot of bad karma and bad luck when he does this. This is the curse dying away.
And that he also needs to make amends to his victims. Oh! And that the bad luck will be directly proportional to whatever he has done. So yeah, the curse will be removed. Slowly. And painfully.
What? I did give him a simple curse remover. I just decided that he needed some help to stay on the straight and narrow path Christians are always talking about. And boy is that ever going to be his case. The cleansing bath was a ritual dedication to Nemesis. That from now on, whenever he engages in evil, she will be the one to punish him.
That he must do what is good in her eyes. Jesus loves you. But Nemesis takes no shit.
The original Time’s Up
That was Saturday. Today the girls have said they are both feeling better everyday. But she asked me if I hexed her cousin. I told her no (did I lie? No). But she says that her cousin has had a streak of bad luck getting worse since Saturday night when he did the cleansing with the Apple juice.
And other things. I asked her what the “other things” were. But she wouldn’t tell me. I explained to her the curse on his end was dying. And that it was going to be a long journey for him. But that he needed to do some soul searching.
And understand the full magnitude of what he was doing. That he needs to truly, from the bottom of his soul repent. Haven’t heard back from her. And that’s okay. I did my job well.
And while I am not going to be paid (the family forbade them from paying an Agent of “satan”) I am alright with that. Two lives saved. And one rapist wanna be offered up to my Lady. To ensure he never does something like that again. It was a win, win in the end.
Unfortunately I don’t know if I will be able to make rent this coming month. I’m $200 short. The $50 wouldn’t have made a difference. At most it would have been mere pocket change. But at least it would have been half of $100 and I would have had a $50 head start.
Oh well, the Gods will provide. Now, technically any of them could be reading this blog post right now. I honestly couldn’t give a lesser fuck than I do right now. Helping this dysfunctional fucking family was mentally and spiritually taxing. Writing this was mentally and spiritually taxing. If they want to get angry because I aired dirty laundry, or messed up their asshole nephew/son to heal away his curse, I also don’t care.
What the fuck will they do? Sue me? And if they could sue me, they would have to admit that they were using Pagan magic to undo a curse their own son/nephew cast in order to force a girl to be with him. It’s a lose lose for them. So if you are reading this, Fuck you very much. I have zero tolerance for bastards and stupid people.
On this day, one of many feast days of Saint Jirjis (George) of Palestine, I pray to him. I pray for the people of Palestine. And support them in their intifada (struggle). Against the Nakba (genocide) imposed on them by the false state of “israel”. And I pray for their liberation.
That one day, they will have their country back. That one day, they will have their homes back. That one day, they won’t be arrested for saving rain water to drink (because Israel makes that illegal). I pray for them to be able to plant their trees and agriculture in peace. So they can feed their children and elders.
I pray for justice. As well as peace. And with that so end this post. If you want to read on George’s history. And of him as a mystic.
And also I pray that people do not lose their jobs simply for speaking the truth about the Nakba and being falsely labeled “antisemitic”. That those Rabbis who defend Palestine do not get harassed by their fellow Jews. Simply for defending a people from genocide being done in “their name”.
Known by a bunch of different names. In different cultures. The Welsh have Nos Galan Gaef. The Manx have Hop-tu-naa. Some Catholics Venerate St. Allan.
And really all of the Saints on this evening. In Brazil there is a little creature called Saci who is similar to Rumpelstiltskin. He’s a real trickster. And this is Saci Day. He lives inside of dust storms.
Specifically dirt devils. Legend has it that he’s invisible as long as he has his red cap. And that he grants wishes to those who take it away from him. However, people who claimed to have actually done this, say that his cap smells horrible. And that no matter what, the stench has never washed off.
And of course you have to set him free afterwards.
In Latin America we have Noche De Brujas (Night of the Witches). When tradition has it, that we witches our most powerful. On November 1st, we have Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead). For the adults that is. November 2nd is Dia de Los Muertos for the children.
La Santa Muerte and Dia De Los Muertos
Dia De Los Muertos is a Spanish celebration of All Saints Day in the Catholic Church. And a celebration of La Santa Muerte. The Christianized version of the Aztec Goddess of the Dead, Mictēcacihuātl. Her name means “our lady of Mictlán”. Mictlán is the land of the dead.
Her husband is Mictlāntēcutli. Later she was turned into a Saint by Folk Catholics. Who began to see a reborn version of the Goddess, as a Catholic Saint. Dressed as the Virgin Mary. But in the form of a skeleton.
The skeletons aren’t always dressed as Mary. Other times they look like women dressed as flamenco dancers. The skeleton dolls are called Katrinas. The irony of this is, Halloween is the Christianized version of Samhain. They created Hallowsmas as a way to convert Pagans.
This kind of backfired in them. The only thing this accomplished was for Pagans to learn how to hide. In plain sight. Indigenous people in Mexico started worshipping their Gods in secret on that day. And to this day the Great Goddess Mictēcacihuātl continues to be worshiped and adored.
And now even non indigenous people are praying to her.
Originally, the day was used to Christianize the Celtic festival of Samhain (pronounced sow-en). Where sows or female pigs were slaughtered. And then salted and preserved for winter. In those days, winter was a grueling endeavor. Imagine months of being trapped in your house.
With no safe way out. Entire families trapped until the spring time. And homes back then were very small. Often there was a common living area that also doubled as a sleeping room and kitchen. So Samhain was the preparation of all that.
And contrary to the popular belief, it was not the Celtic festival of the dead. But rather it was a sort of harvest/preparation for winter. What the Celts did believe in however, was that Faeries ran wild during this time. And while some of the Fair Folk are good, others are evil. And some are just ambivalent about humanity in general.
And don’t particularly care to not harm us. So, like every other Celtic fire feast, they created Bonfires like this.
A depiction of the Druids and other Celtic God worshippers, dancing around a bonfire to gain its protection.
Now you think this is simple right? No, it isn’t. Building a Bonfire back then was not easy. To make a fire holy, you had to perform certain rituals. The bon in bonfire, is a Middle English word for “Bone”. Animals were sacrificed in magical rituals to ward away enemy spirits, black magic, and even the dead.
Other rituals used a need-fire or friction fire. Need-fires were more complicated. As in a huge pain in the ass. Remember those sticks you rub together to make a fire? The same principle applies. Except that there are large sticks.
Like trees practically. Using a large fire drill made of oak. The sacred tree for male Gods. Such as Thor. Even Jesus was crucified on an oak tree.
An oak drill was made to “need” or drill into the other wood. Now, because of how large these logs are, a platform had to be created to hold one up. And gallows rope would be tied to the drill. The group of men (it’s a male centric ritual even symbolically with the logs) are the ones who rub or need the wood into a friction fire.
The point is, these magical fires were used to keep away enemy spirits. By enemy, I don’t mean necessarily evil. But what is evil to us may not be for a Faerie. Faeries often kill humans by accident. So the bonfire was used on Samhain and the other fire festivals for protection.
From disease, enemy spirits, and enemy witchcraft. Bones tossed into fire is also a remedy against Ghosts. So the veil does get thin during this time. But the Celts didn’t celebrate this as a time for their dead. In fact, it’s unknown why Christians started this myth in the first place.
Perhaps the belief in spirits walking the Earth got stuck in their heads. And for some reason they assumed it would be the dead. And not nature spirits. Frankly I’m surprised they didn’t think of devils instead. But for whatever reason, they chose to Christianize Samhain as a feast of the Christian Dead.
Now, when the calendar changed, so did the date for Samhain. It’s no longer on October 31. Many (like myself) celebrate it on the evening of November the 6th. At sunset. Until sunset the 7th.
Others celebrate it on November the 11th. In my case I just decided to celebrate a Samhain week. That is at its peak the 6th and ends the 11th. For Halloween, I celebrate the feasts of the dead. Specifically the ones mentioned above.
But also the Catholic version. I’m a Christo Pagan. So for me, Christian holidays are magical too. No matter their origin. Perhaps the Christians were being attacked by angry spirits of the Celts.
Who demanded they leave their people alone. And that led to the idea this was a festival of the dead.
The Black Vespers of the Christian Dead
The Catacombs
That’s just me speculating. Now what’s really interesting is how the Catholic Church celebrates this holiday. They made their Christian version of Samhain as chthonic as possible. Originally, the day had it’s own mass. Masses in Catholicism are considered the highest form of prayer that there is.
Because it isn’t just one person praying. Or even two. But large groups of people in the hundreds or even thousands. In churches over the world, praying around the exact same times. Or the same days (at different times).
The Priest would wear a ‘penitential purple’ vest. This was the color for Vigils. Because they adopted the Celtic practice of celebrating a feast day since the Evening of the day before. This is due to the world becoming liminal between the time of the actual day, and the day before. So if you ever wondered why Hollow’s Eve and Christmas Eve are so important, there you are.
Halloween, from Hallow-en which itself comes from “All Hallows’ Eve”—the eve of All Saints’ Day. The Saints themselves are dead spiritual masters. Ascended Masters. So they fall in line with what many traditions call “The Mighty Dead”. Kings or Queens of the Dead.
Or in some cases a more powerful than usual dead person. Like the human version of an Archangel or a Faerie King/Queen. A higher level of human spirit. Note I said “like”. I am not saying that’s what the mighty dead are.
Hallows is another way of saying “holy”. So all holy eve is what Halloween means. The Eve of the Holy Ones or Saints. It comes from the Middle English halowen. From the Old English hālig for “holy”.
Also known as the Vespers of the Dead. Or the Black Vespers, in which the Priest would dress in black as the proper color for funerals. Originally, these prayers weren’t spoken on All Hallows. But instead were spoken after the Second Vespers on All Saints’ Day. Which was on its way to becoming All Souls Day.
The day for praying for all the dead in general. To achieve Heaven and leave Purgatory. The traditions of speaking the Vespers since All Hallow’s Eve came later. With the British. They began to say it since the evening of All Hallow’s.
The tradition of kids dressing up in costumes and trick or treating also comes from the British Catholic Church. The boys would often dress like St. Michael the Archangel. And all the kids would knock on doors asking for “soul cakes”. It helped to feed the poor. And in exchange, those children promised the families something in return.
They would pray for that family’s departed relatives. So even the act of feeding the children was chthonic. It was for them to do funeral prayers for their dead.
A boy dressed as St. Michael for All Hallows’ Eve
For those interested, here is the original book on the prayers that were used during this time. A (Pre-55) All Hallows Eve Devotional Booklet from Ancilla Press. Three pages of the original prayers for Hallow-en can be found in that link. The writer of that blog also states something. He says All Hallow’s Eve prayers can only be made official again, when they become widely practiced in the home first.
The most common book cover for the book, I think that ugly face is actually Clark Smeltzer, the abusive father who serves the Ghoul. Part of Keene’s theme of “adults are the real monsters,”
If I have misspelled anything in this post, forgive me. I wrote a lot. Needless to say, there are spoilers. I don’t know how many people keep up to date with the current trends of horror books. I am not 100% up to date myself.
I heard about it by chance from another blogger. Who said they were reading it. After reading the description, and also hearing a small excerpt from the audiobook on YouTube, I was hooked. But I am warning you now, I’m going to whine a lot. I have a love/hate relationship with this book.
The excerpt, this narrator is amazing
I imagined something akin to Goonies. Or maybe even Super 8. Or perhaps It. What I got wasn’t at all what I wanted. In fact, by the end of it I was left feeling empty.
Dissatisfied. I mean I don’t know the whole story behind this book. But I wonder why the author wasted so much potential. It wasn’t intentional I think. But I personally felt cheated.
And I am restraining myself from over criticizing the book. Because despite that, there were still parts that I liked. Parts that showed promise. And the author should have expanded those parts out. Or maybe even just concentrated on them way period.
But without further adieu, here’s my review.
One of the images of the Ghoul himself, it is described as having an elongated head. Similar to the Deacon from the Alien series. And being a strange white thing.
Originally, I gave it 3 stars instead of five. I mean don’t get me wrong, the writing is superb. And the character of the Ghoul was the most fascinating person of all. Which caught me off guard. If Ghouls are real, this sounds like what a ghoul would really be like.
Not the dumb, shuffling, zombie like creatures you’d imagine. He’s actually kind of intellectual. But gross and disgusting for more reasons than just what he is. So for those two reasons only did I give it a 4 out of 5. The premise and plot was masterful.
And the villain and child heroes were perfect. I just don’t think the book lived up to it’s potential. For starters, the book is way too short. With the Prologue and Epilogue included, it’s only 233 pages long. Now to someone who doesn’t read much, that sounds like a lot.
But trust me, it isn’t. That’s barely the beginning for most books. And that isn’t really a lot of time for you to tell a story. But I figured,
“Well maybe the author is going to jam pack most of the chapters with a lot of information. So that there’s a lot of chapters in just 200+ pages,”
Sadly that didn’t happen. The most you see of the Ghoul, is at the very beginning during the Prologue. And sometime before and after Chapter 10. Almost the whole damn book is nothing more than the typical, boyhood, coming of age story in a small town.
And life’s hard lessons yadda, yadda, yadda, I get it.
Joss Whedon did the same thing with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Every monster she ever faced was a “metaphor for growing up”. But at least he didn’t make it obvious. He masqueraded it behind monsters. Including the end of the world. And interesting plot points. He didn’t do that.
And there’s no attempt to hide it or turn them into something more interesting and fantastical. It’s not about a young boy thrust into a world of magic and the supernatural. It’s more like a random monster thrust into an overly mundane world. One that is as corrupt as the decaying flesh of the cemetery. In fact you get the symbolism of the decaying flesh being moral decay of society.
The cemetery that inspired the book
When he mentions the lives of all the dead people buried in the cemetery. In particular he mentions a boy who was shot by his brother. After his brother caught him being pleasured by his family pet (I won’t go into that further). It’s a small foot note within the story. But it illustrates the point well.
That the Ghoul is merely feeding off of the existing corruption of this new world. And I’m sure someone reading this is going to say “but that’s awesome!” Eh, it could be made interesting. But not in this case.
The Boys & the Town
There’s only supposed to be three boys, not four. Unless this is Ronny and his friends. But they were only a group of three as well
Half of the book was about Timmy Graco and his two friends. Doug Kaiser and Barry Smeltzer. And the horrors his friends face at home. Doug, is the victim of rape. By his alcoholic, pedophile, mother.
Who was kicked out of her job as a school nurse for unspecified reasons. But I’m sure we can all figure out why. And to make it worse, when his father found out, he abandoned the household. Without his son. So let me get this straight, he knows his wife is a pedophile, and he allowed her to stay with his son? Did he ever care about him?
Then of course we have Barry Smeltzer whose father is an abusive bastard. He beats the crap out of his wife and son on a near daily basis. Timmy’s parents are more or less. They aren’t physically abusive. But they are a bunch of assholes.
His father is one of those toxically masculine men. Who wants his son to be an athlete. And he thinks his 12 year old son is gay. Because he likes comic books instead of football. Yeah you read that right.
And he keeps pressuring his son to stop watching cartoons and reading comics to join the foot ball team. You know, with a bunch of older boys who will probably beat the crap out of him on the field. But yay! At least it’ll drain the gay out of him right? He’s not gay by the way. He’s in love with the Pastor’s daughter, Katie Moore. I’m just clarifying so people don’t think it’s a story about him being in the closet.
Since all the personal stories seem to take up this book. I felt like I was reading a damn soap opera in the form of a novel. Instead of a horror novel. For fucks sake, if I wanted to read something like that, I could have read The Catcher in the Rye. Or Native Son (which is more my type of book).
His mother enables his father’s toxic behavior. Backing him up even though she knows he’s wrong. I would classify Timmy’s parents as emotionally abusive. Rather than physically abusing. His Grandfather is the only real guiding light in his life.
He’s an awesome man. And I wish his character had actually lived. He would have been a great person for Timmy to have in his life. And again……. the Ghoul is absent. For most of the story, everything is kept separated.
The boys playing in the cemetery
Before the Ghoul himself was unleashed, the boys played in the cemetery all of the time. It’s one of the few interesting places in town. They’re very ingenious. They figured out how to make a special hideout for themselves. Instead of the typical treehouse you would expect, they created the Dugout.
The secret entrance to the Dugout. StairwayThe boys with the rolled up map in Doug’s handThe Table in the Dugout that Timmy’s grandfather left for him in the DugoutThe map
They dug a deep pit inside the cemetery grounds. And they turned it into a club house. One with comics. Crayons and arts stuff. Which they use to create a map of the town itself.
The map itself is impressive. Loved it. They placed a stove with a pipe leading outside to the surface. In case they need to warm themselves up. They got a wooden door with a latch on it.
To cover the dugout. And of course dirty magazines. I laughed so hard at that. Timmy’s grandpa even put a large table into the dugout for them to use. I wish I had a place like that growing up.
That sounds way better than a tree house. It’s like a little bunker. And the map that Doug draws, has the whole town mapped. Including the tree house used by their arch enemies : Ronny and his friends.
A group of older kids who like to cause problems for them. Despite that, they seem to enjoy the rivalry. It’s fun to have an “enemy” for them to fight. Unfortunately, Ronny and his friends tried to find the Dougout. But what they found instead was a sinkhole.
Leading directly into the Ghoul’s lair. Ronny tried to escape. But Clark Smeltzer blocked his way out. And let the Ghoul end him.
Eventually, the people and authorities begin to believe that this is the work of a serial killer. And the children are ordered to stay at home by their parents. The first people to go missing was Reverend Moore’s eldest daughter, Karen. And her lover Pat Kemp. Nobody knows if they are even alive.
As a reward for his services, the Ghoul grants Clark Smeltzer all the jewelry and other valuables from the graves. The rings and even money that people leave in the caskets of the dead. Thinking that these things won’t be touched. And that they are better left with the dead. Clark is suddenly able to give his wife and son fancy gifts.
And even to take them out to nice restaurants. His Master true to his word, gives Clark all the valuables. Even the money that Ronny and his friends had in their wallets prior to death. It amazes me that not a single person, not even his family, thought that this was weird. Like how could a person with such low pay, suddenly have all this money? And didn’t anyone notice the jewelry that his wife had on? It should have been obvious that something fishy was going on.
But as you read the story, it’s obvious that the adults have their heads shoved so far up their own asses it’s a wonder they could breathe. Even when Timmy flat out tells his parents that Doug was being abused by his mother, they never bothered to look into it. They just assumed he was angry at them and making a horrible lie to shock them. The adults aren’t just the real monsters. They’re the real idiots.
The Legend of the Ghoul
A long time ago, the people who lived in that small town, had immigrated from Germany and other parts of Europe. They were the Pennsylvania Dutch. They used magic that actually comes from ancient pre-Christian religions. But then later was Christianized. This is actually real.
And this brand new magical practice was created called Powwow. The name was obviously taken from Native Americans. But still to this day nobody knows why they called it that. The towns people used sorcery from the spell books, “Powwows or Long Lost Friend” by John George Hohman, and The Daemonolateria. When the Ghoul was haunting the people in the town and causing disappearances, the people united.
And they drove the Ghoul back to its underground caves. Then they carved a magical cross used in Powwow to bind the demon. It was carved on a gravestone. So that no one would ever touch it. This is a real symbol against black magic and evil spirits used in Powwow.
Here it is, as depicted in the book.
As shown in page 141 of the book
But Clark Smeltzer in a drunk stupor, accidentally bumped into the stone. And it fell and broke in half. Which breaks the spell. Effectively releasing the Ghoul from his paralysis. Because this whole time, the thing has been alive and awake.
It’s just been unable to move. And the seal bound it to the spot. And kept it from using higher brain functions. It was as if it was drugged.
The Ghoul’s Cave from the Chiller TV movie
With the seal broken, it suddenly becomes fully aware again. And is now mobile. The Ghoul isn’t a Vampire per say, but similar. It has super speed and strength. And the ability to spontaneously regenerate from any wound.
The only way to kill it, is through sunlight. And it’s skin glows a pale blue. While also exuding a slime through its skin that allows it to move underground. And long, razor sharp talons. What gets me is how evolved the Ghoul is.
It’s obvious these are traits of evolution. Glowing skin to navigate in the dark, slimy skin to move effortlessly in the dirt, and talons and sharp teeth for shredding and eating corpses. It has all it needs to survive. What neither the book illustrations or the movie depiction show however is the big bulging belly. It’s usually tall and skinny though.
So I don’t know if the belly is due to it having eaten. When it rises from the grave, Barry’s father who is the undertaker of the property is the first person he meets. And it forces Clark Smeltzer to kidnap women for him. To have a harem of wives.
In order to re-populate the Ghouls of the world. Since the last time he was awake, he had only seen one other ghoul in hundreds of years. He suspects that he’s the last one. And he aims to bring back his lost race.
From the Chiller TV movie
As you can imagine, he’s a violent rapist. Who feeds his “wives” the flesh of the dead. The most interesting parts of the book are the Ghoul himself. His mind for example. In his moments of introspection, he speaks of the Vampires.
The Fallen Demonic Spirits. And the Pagan Gods. As well as the Christian God. Granted, he calls the Pagan Gods “small gods” which I find hard to believe. A God is a God.
And a demon would fear them no matter what. And he talks about the commandment that the Monotheist God gave to the Ghouls. That they can only eat dead flesh. Never the living. This isn’t entirely wrong. The concept of the Ghoul comes from ancient Pagan Mesopotamian lore.
In Mesopotamia it was called the Gallu. Later Islam, popularized the creature again calling it a Ghul. Though in Islamic lore, a Ghul is always a female. Specifically it’s the spirit of a dead Prostitute who becomes a demon after death. Feeding on dead flesh and blood.
However, contrary to the book they actually can eat the living, and drink living blood. So they are related on some level to the vampires. But this Ghoul seems more like an ancient Mesopotamian Gallu rather than a Muslim Ghul. Gallu are usually male. So that would mean a Gallu is a male Ghoul.
And a Ghul is a female Ghoul. This isn’t in the book. This is just me talking about the possible origins of Ghouls. Since it acknowledges all Gods, it would have to be ancient. And probably saw the Gods when they would appear on Earth.
He has a deep hatred of all things holy. I have to give the Author credit. The Ghoul is the best literary villain I have read in some time. Not a typical flesh eating monster. It has intelligence beyond that of what we are all used to seeing on tv or reading in books.
Where undead creatures are normally portrayed as stupid. Drone like even. Even in modern slang, a person in a vegetable state is called a “zombie”. Where they just zone out. The Ghoul is far from that. He’s intelligent.
And while he can be and act primitive due to his instincts and desires. But it’s clear that he has a sentience and even a wisdom about him. But it’s a dark and twisted wisdom. Known only to those creatures that live in the grave. And have seen the passage of time in the decay of monuments.
In the fall of civilizations. In the shadows of the human heart and the night. It also seems to have powerful psychic abilities. Even when it was paralyzed, it could sense Clark Smeltzer’s innermost self. Before he was released, he described Smeltzer as having a “mind like a hive of bees“.
Describing Smeltzer’s emotional state as a mixture of anger, sadness, confusion, and the drunkenness. And this was all from beneath the ground. At just a small portion of it’s powers. It could tell all of that with just a moment’s focus. And it’s ability to smell and hear is heightened as well.
Despite it’s obvious evil, the Ghoul has some measure of human qualities in it too. It allows itself to die in the heat of the sun chasing Karen Moore. Because on some sick level, he really thought he loved her. Thought that is. You don’t don’t do those things to people you love.
But it wanted her to bare his children. So he could be a father. And he loved his people so much. That he asked for these women. So that he could try to save his own race.
An almost human quality to it. The way it does this is despicable. But he believes he is justified in what he is doing. He wants to save the ghoul race. And he refers to the kidnap victims as “his wives”.
But rather than a derogatory or mocking way, he seems to take this seriously. As if it were a relationship sealed by the Gods. He feeds them because he takes on a Hunter gatherer role for them. And when Smeltzer brought the second victim to him, he placed her over his shoulder and tried to soothe her. Saying that he would take care of her.
Please don’t misunderstand me. The Ghoul is an ancient misogynistic asshole. He has no morality. And he is cruel. But he does have something inside of his heart that allows him to at least simulate a version of love.
If only his version. Which is twisted. He begs for Karen to come back when he chases her saying “come back my wife! I can’t be alone again,” In many ways, this vile monster is a tragic character. A creature both alive and not alive. Who probably didn’t ask to become this way.
Truly a worthy villain for any book. When Timmy cries at the Ghoul’s death, because he sees it as nothing more than an animal. An angry and wounded animal, he asks a question. He asks why he would he enter the sunlight knowing that he would die. And Barry surprisingly answered : Because he didn’t want to be alone again.
Even demons of the night need companionship.
And back to the Drama
The boys at the cemetery, from the Chiller TV movie based on the book
That’s pretty much all the insight into the Ghoul you are going to get. Because “the real story” is about kids being abused and how it’s part of growing up. And how adults are fucking liars. Clark Smeltzer beats the crap out of his son and his wife. Timmy doesn’t go through that, and is mostly normal.
Sometimes you see Clark Smeltzer serving the Ghoul by kidnapping women. Or hiding dead bodies etc..but those are more like footnotes. The real “action” is the stuff that happens behind closed doors to the kids. Barry beaten almost to death. Doug crying because his mother is trying to break down the door to rape him.
And Timmy eventually having his asshole of a father destroy his comic book collection. Because he told his son he could tell him anything. So when Timmy tells him that he believes a Ghoul is killing people and that it probably devoured his grandfather’s body he goes insane. Granted I can sort of understand the reaction of hearing a child nonchalantly mention a corpse of a dead loved one being eaten. This boy really should have thought that one through.
But instead of at least understanding that his son might be going through a phase, he decided to scream at him. And destroy his comics. Grounding him for the rest of summer. And forcing him to watch the destruction of his comics. Telling him that if he looks away, he’ll ground him for another month.
And all of this is to make him “grow up” and get serious about life. You know, like any typical 12 year old. Which pretty much proves that adults are all liars. And that they are the real monsters. He tells him he’s doing something for “his own good“.
That’s what they always say, but it’s usually for there’s. Not his. So imagine reading seemingly endless pages about just that. And all the while I’m waiting to get back to the real reason I picked up this book in the first place : the Ghoul. So when do I see the damn Ghoul story? Chapter 10.
Which is page 131. It’s already more than half of the book already. And NOW is when Timmy finally realizes something weird is going on. He and Katie Moore find the broken Gravestone with the Powwow cross on pages 141-142. And then, at page 143-144 Reverend Moore finally tells them the legend of the Ghoul and how it was trapped.
Reverend Moore explains the legend of the Ghoul, and the purpose of the Powwow charm, from the Chiller TV movie of the same name
Finally we see things start to move. After the molasses slow burn. The problem is, now everything speeds up way too fast. And the Ghoul is defeated that very same night. Unfortunately, that night Doug has to escape from his house.
You see in both the movie and the book, he put a padlock on the door of his room to keep his mother out. But the nasty drunken predator is so desperate to violate him, that she actually tears the screen down and opens the window of his room. And then climbs inside so she can rape him again. He runs away. And goes to the dugout.
The problem is, that he sees Clark Smeltzer talking to the Ghoul. And the Ghoul catches his scent. And then it follows Doug to the dugout and takes him. We don’t see how Doug dies. Only that he’s been ripped down into a hole in the Dougout made by the Ghoul.
And this ends up being the very last scene we ever see Doug in. Unless you count his corpse which has been shredded to pieces and eaten by the Ghoul. And his head which the Ghoul holds up for Timmy to see. In order to mock him when he goes to rescue Karen and the other victim.
The Ghoul, stalking Doug at the cemetery.
Now the rest of the book is the night when Timmy both discovered the story of the Ghoul, and then killed it. And he was unable to save Doug. He only managed to save Karen Moore, Katie’s big sister. The other girl was presumably killed by the Ghoul when she attacked him in self defense. That’s it.
What a fucking waste. All that sermon about how adults are the real monsters. And the hard lessons of life. All that slow burn presumably leading up somewhere. And it was for nothing.
I read 10 Chapters on the evils of the adult world. And the meaningless existence of small town life. But not enough time on the Ghoul. Over all, I was disappointed and left feeling hollow at the end of the book.
Final Thoughts
From left to right : Doug Keizer, Timmy Graco, and Barry Smeltzer
One of the first gripes I have with this other than the length of the book, is wasted potential. The Reverend Mentions a character you never see in the story. His name is Nelson LeHorn. This man is the last Powwow practitioner in the whole area. And that’s it. That’s all you hear of him.
I mean call me crazy. But, the author has Timmy do research on the Ghoul. Using comic books. Wouldn’t it have been better if you have all three kids track down LeHorn and learn more about the Ghoul from him? Like it’s true origins. Why did it come to the town instead of stay in the Middle East where it came from.
How did it come to the Americas in the first place? What is the true demonic nature of a ghoul (their origin) etc..
There’s a lot of potential here. And LeHorn could have show them the truth. Or even given special charms or prayers to ward it off. It makes sense for them researching, and eventually fighting the Ghoul. And two, if you want to make this whole thing about boys growing up, wouldn’t a literal wise man be the one for them to talk to? To give them magic charms to fight the damn thing? Or maybe even LeHorn and the Pastor working together.
One using his Priestly authority and the other using his faith and divine grace through Powwow. Then we have Dane Graco (the Grandfather). Why kill him? The Grandfather would have been a powerful ally. He would have given Timmy the benefit of the doubt. Even if not initially believing in the Ghoul.
He would have seen that Timmy laid out a perfect timeline for the disappearances and that something was off. This would have been a better father figure than his actual father. And would have been better for the message of a boy becoming a man. By having another older and wiser man helping him. And thus you would have a modern, literary version of the three Wise Men or Magi from Christianity.
Helping a group of child heroes also in threes. Three young men and three old men. Which would also have symbolized the Triple God. Or even the Fathers, the Sons, and the Holy Spirit being their faith. Plus, he was just introduced in chapter one.
And almost immediately he died of a heart attack. Seriously? Such a waste of a good character. In some ways it’s an even bigger waste than Nelson LeHorn’s potential character not being used. Then the Ghoul kidnapped the girls with the intention to breed a whole new race. And we know he’s raped them repeatedly.
At the end he dies because Timmy has helped Katie’s older sister escape. And rather than be alone and not having children, he follows them into the light. Where he basically melts and dies. And that’s it. Instead of that dead pan ending, why not make it so that the girl who died bravely facing the monster, was pregnant at the time.
And then we could have an eerie ending where the baby ghoul devoured its way out of the dead mother. And that as the children were now adults in the epilogue, so too was the brand new ghoul. That would have been a far better ending. You could even see the strange sinkhole activity starting up again. It could also have ended with Karen Moore becoming LeHorn’s apprentice in Powwow.
Since magic users in that culture can’t teach people of the same gender. It only makes sense. Karen could even have eventually become a Reverend herself. Combining Powwow practice with conventional religion. That way she could save herself philosophically speaking instead of being a damsel in distress. And become the new protector of the town. Maybe even creating a secret society to keep the town safe and preserve powwow. Which would lead to her to being an important figure in the future. Instead of a throw away character.
Her sister Katie could also be trained by LeHorn. And become an exorcist or hunter. Creating a militia out of the local towns people.
Which leads me to something else : why is there no magic?
The kids know they are going up against a demon. Why not get crosses or holy water or something to fight it? Or at least a Bible. They could even have, again asked Reverend Moore for such things. Make up a story so that they could acquire the things they needed. And maybe the town has other churches they could go to. And make themselves an arsenal of holy weapons. Even the kids from Stephen King’s It had a magical ritual called the ritual of Chud that allows them to battle the monster in the first and second book. Taught to them by the world turtle Maturin.
So they made weapons by merely believing that the objects they had could hurt Pennywise the clown. These kids come from a magical town. They have potential weapons there. Why wouldn’t you have them take advantage of that? Don’t tell me that Timmy, a kid who reads comics about magic and monsters, wouldn’t have automatically thought of that. He’s the most ingenious of the three. He’s not stupid. He would have done that.
Instead we got Doug eaten by the Ghoul. Tim left his home and became a comic book writer which I guess is cool. Though he seems to have fallen into a white collar life. And worst of all, Barry became an abuser just like his father. He beats his own son. And now works at the cemetery just like his Dad before him.
And finally, Why, why did they have to kill Doug?
The Ghoul hiding behind a statue. Following Doug before he kills and devours him.
Like the pain these kids went through wasn’t bad enough. But the graphic way in which Doug died. If anyone deserved a happy ending it was him. So what was the point of this story? To endlessly preach about how unfair and cruel life is? There are tons of books that are already dedicated to that subject. Horror fans want an actual horror story.
Not a bunch of drama with just a tiny smidgen of the supernatural horror.
Finally I was even more disappointed watching the TV Movie from Chiller Channel. It was obviously intended for children. Not adults. But worse than that, it totally demystified the story. The Ghoul wasn’t even a real Ghoul.
Just a messed up miner who lost his mind when his family died. It managed to cut the story down even shorter than the book did. The one and only redeeming quality was that Doug Keiser lived. And since the epilogue was cut, you can at least imagine they had a better future than the one in the book. Plus the parents of Timmy weren’t as much of the pretentious assholes they were in the book. Though it’s unknown if poor Doug ever escaped his rapist mother.
So that’s it.
Pros
So now I am talking about the Pros of the book. Despite my criticisms, the writing is superb. The world building is also good. The characters have different sides to them instead of being one dimensional. And he truly does have a great insight into the mind of children and teens.
Not the stereotypical authors who think they know the young. And really don’t. Each character had their own soul and personality. So that they seemed to be their own creations almost. And not connected to the person who wrote them,
As if the author based them on real people. And it did make me feel like a child again. If this was a book about real life lessons and experiences, and I knew that going in, I wouldn’t have cared. I would have read this and loved it. The problem is, that’s not what this book was supposed to be about.
So I went in there under almost false pretenses. And I didn’t get what I paid for. Not the way I wanted it at any rate. But if re-written just to be a real world story, I would have enjoyed it. It is possible to meld the real and the fantastical into something unique.
I loved reading about how they explored places. Like the Forrest and the roads and everything. It reminded me of my childhood.
It made me realize just how much of our lives we waste on electronics and social media. In the old days kids used to play outside and have adventures. Now I admit that even the older folk are stuck behind a screen. And I realized just what I never got to do when I was a child. And I regret it.
This story, didn’t live up to its full promise. But I would still have read it even knowing all of this. The book was still good. And I do intend to give this author another chance. And read more of his works.
Over all I would still recommend this. Just go in there knowing not to expect too much. Normally I don’t expect much of any book or show. But in this case, I was hyped up because of what I heard and read on this book. He has made other books on the undead. Like the Rising.
So I intend to read his other books. I don’t want to be a snob. Happy Friday the 13th everyone,
Adventures of A Mage In Miami 