Monday, December 29, 2008

Yeee-haw! More insanity!

Meat is murder. Meat eating is not good for mother earth.Meat eating speeds up global warming. It is violent.Factory farms are the worst!


Meat eating is not very pagan-maybe a long long time ago but not now. Factory faming is absolutly dreadfull. Its so ironic. They ban steroids at the olympics yet they give steroids to the animals in the factory farms amonst other crap.Modern feedlot and slaughterhouse practices have lowered the cost of meat, but they have also increased the risk of food-borne illness from pathogen - tainted meat.Its true that meat is a good source of protein, but so are soybeans and other legumes. And it is quite possible to eat a healthy, balanced diet with little or no meat in it. If the link between meat consumption and cancer isnt reason enough to cut back, consider the risks. Meat can be a breeding ground for e coli and other bacteria responsible for foodborne illness. The workers in the factory farms are paid very low wages..The meat industry is a major cause of air and water pollution.Factory farming is inhumane to the animals. I would hardly think u would want your dog or cat to be living in thoese cramped conditions wher the animals are always lyeing in their own shit.Nitrates, ammonia, and other pollutants from animal wastes threaten ecosystems and our water supply. Hormones used in livestock(which come through in their manure) have been found downstream from factory farms and are linked to altered sexual traits in fish and other wildlife. Just ask the people who live near factory farms!Oh and also would u please read everything I have written before commenting. Thanks.


9/11 was a inside job. End war.Stop joining the military. Stop being sheep. Be leaders.Your tax dollars are going to killing people.

Read: Confessions of a economic hitman by John Perkins.Once the oil all but runs out then there will be war over water.People are dyeing in Iraq!When will people ever learn?All thease wars are about is money and power-nothing to do with freedom. By killing people your just creating more terrorists. The plan to invade Iraq was in the works along time ago. The soldiers are guarding the pipelines. Do u think Afghans want us in their country stealing their oil-killing their people??? Rapeing their land?Do u think the Columbian people want the corporations to exploit them as a cheap sources of labour? How about here? We are slaves.They want to keep us poor so we join their military.It is true when u r young that u make mistakes. But joining the military is like commiting suicide.Google:loose change. The U.S has no right to police the world.


I make plant costumes. I do Shamanistic photography


I am a photo artist. Please see some examples of what I do on my profile.I make people blend in with their environments. I do primitive body-painting. If you want to purchase my art you would have to contact me first to request it since I am not hooked onto paypal yet.I do commissions.
Blessed be.

I just love it when they let them off the shortbus and into the real world unattended...

So much fun....

The ever fascinating Alisha's Profile: "I am a shamanistic spiritual photo artist.I like to go beyond."

Beyond what is the only question...

Weiners Abound


"I have done alot in my life always giving and sacraficeing. But here alatly i feel why me. I do not do what i do to get in return. But i feel that for once id like one thing for me. sometimes i feel liek im jsut there to be used. for example {everytime i invite someone to my residance they never show or something comes up but Im alwasy exspected to travel to everyone. } I feel hurt and disapointed. Am i wrong for feeling this way"

Spell check, people. Shit.

I want to communicate with nice pagans right now. There is enough negativity out there. Thanks."

Rather demanding, don't you think? LOL!

And the title just kills me: Looking for nice positive people to discuss topics with. You know happy people.

Guess that kicks me to the curb. I think I am one of the mean pagans. Is this like the movie Mean Girls, and this freak wants to be the pagan Lindsay Lohan? Poor thing. I think this newest wreck is my favourite Psfreak that has come about in ages. She's even better than Hami Style!!!

Click here to link to the discussion. It's great - give it a tickle. It will make you giggle in return.

The bitch is nuts! Pure D. Hell Nuts!

She even LOOKS batty.

Fucking fabulous!

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Another Award Winning Post from FuckinIdiotsSpace

How do we disapline kids with out hitting them...

I have a very Iadmit spoiled two year old king we call him.... Well in short idon't want to spank him only as last resort... So what can we do then.... I tried naughty chair... I tried taking him away from the situation.... I tired taking tv away i even tried boogey man... Nothing works anymore. I tried taking away fro mthe sitation. Rewards praise. I am going to not let him get stuff for free anymore...
I admit it I and others spoiled him ROTTEN. He was not expected to live...... Guilt factor...
I tihkn he needs to have alot of energy burned off be around other kids.... more I try... I do tihnk it is becuase he does not have other kids to teach him stuff..... I admit I risking alot in asking... I hope don't hear ot much flack... I been trying to find other ways to disapline. I tihnk after Yule/xmas he is going to have this new reward punishment put into place.... I admit I don't know what it is oging to be... I thought about making reward chart stickingto it.... Help us get some self control... over spoilinghim... Nip it in the bud.... program.... Idon't want my kid ot be the next brat in the news...
Anybody can be as creative as they want in giving me ideas here...
Keep in mind my very Active Aries only child boy in the family.... has health issues...
thanks please be nice.....


This is a direct copy. Seriously. Maybe someone can explain what the fuck ladmit is? I have yet to figure that one out... It's be brought to my attention that this person is actually retarded, but still, some people should have their fingers removed to prevent them from posting....


Yes, I know. I'm a snatch.


Thursday, December 11, 2008

Award Winning Posts from FuckinIdiotsSpace

"How can you spot a Wiccan, Witch, etc. around you?
Am fairly new on this path. How can I tell who's who?"

And the answer?

"Unless they are obvious about it by dressing the part, you really can't tell..."

Umm... How the fuck does one dress the part??? Wal-Mart Halloween costumes? What the fuck?

"unknown languages that just appear out of no where land
hi, does anyone have any information about speaking in a language you dont understand??? after I was chosen by my goddess I started speaking in an unknown tongue. someone suggested to me when they heard it that they felt it was the laanguage of the tuatha....any info would be appreciated!"

Fuckin' seriously. These people need some serious help. Like of the medicated, shock-therapy, lobotomy variety. And the scary thing is: they are dead God damned serious and get really mad if you call them on being a walking fucking dumb ass...

More to come. There's plenty to choose from.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Rabbity Things' Beyond the Looking Glass Social Network

Newly created Pagan Network!

Beyond the Looking Glass is a social network for those seeking to share PAGAN related views, concerns, interests, and experiences in an intelligent and mature environment. All paths, faiths, beliefs, and practices are embraced and encouraged.

Please come and join us and have a look around.

Please allow time for member requests to be approved. I am the only one approving memberships at the moment and it sometimes takes a bit for me to get to them. The site is still in its baby stages, and is growing by leaps and bounds. Would love to see you there.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

God Bless Texas

This was plastered - half page - across the entertainment section in Houston's paper. I just had to laugh. Wonder how it felt to wake up and see your crotch as the focal point for thousands of readers.... Gotta love it!

[Click pic for full size]

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

"Yes, We Can." - Obama's Victory Speech

For those of you that may have missed it.

Thanks and blessings,


PRESIDENT-ELECT, BARACK OBAMA: If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

Its the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen; by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the very first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different; that their voice could be that difference.

Its the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled - Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and always will be, the United States of America.

Its the answer that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, and doubtful of what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.

Its been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America.

I just received a very gracious call from Senator McCain. He fought long and hard in this campaign, and hes fought even longer and harder for the country he loves. He has endured sacrifices for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine, and we are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selfless leader. I congratulate him and Governor Palin for all they have achieved, and I look forward to working with them to renew this nations promise in the months ahead.

I want to thank my partner in this journey, a man who campaigned from his heart and spoke for the men and women he grew up with on the streets of Scranton and rode with on that train home to Delaware, the Vice President-elect of the United States, Joe Biden.

I would not be standing here tonight without the unyielding support of my best friend for the last sixteen years, the rock of our family and the love of my life, our nations next First Lady, Michelle Obama. Sasha and Malia, I love you both so much, and you have earned the new puppy thats coming with us to the White House. And while shes no longer with us, I know my grandmother is watching, along with the family that made me who I am. I miss them tonight, and know that my debt to them is beyond measure.

To my campaign manager David Plouffe, my chief strategist David Axelrod, and the best campaign team ever assembled in the history of politics - you made this happen, and I am forever grateful for what youve sacrificed to get it done.

But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to - it belongs to you.

I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didnt start with much money or many endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington - it began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston.

It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give five dollars and ten dollars and twenty dollars to this cause. It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generations apathy; who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep; from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on the doors of perfect strangers; from the millions of Americans who volunteered, and organized, and proved that more than two centuries later, a government of the people, by the people and for the people has not perished from this Earth. This is your victory.

I know you didnt do this just to win an election and I know you didnt do it for me. You did it because you understand the enormity of the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the challenges that tomorrow will bring are the greatest of our lifetime - two wars, a planet in peril, the worst financial crisis in a century. Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking up in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives for us. There are mothers and fathers who will lie awake after their children fall asleep and wonder how theyll make the mortgage, or pay their doctors bills, or save enough for college. There is new energy to harness and new jobs to be created; new schools to build and threats to meet and alliances to repair.

The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even one term, but America - I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you - we as a people will get there.

There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who wont agree with every decision or policy I make as President, and we know that government cant solve every problem. But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And above all, I will ask you join in the work of remaking this nation the only way its been done in America for two-hundred and twenty-one years - block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand.

What began twenty-one months ago in the depths of winter must not end on this autumn night. This victory alone is not the change we seek - it is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were. It cannot happen without you.

So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism; of service and responsibility where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other. Let us remember that if this financial crisis taught us anything, its that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers - in this country, we rise or fall as one nation; as one people.

Let us resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long. Let us remember that it was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House - a party founded on the values of self-reliance, individual liberty, and national unity. Those are values we all share, and while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress. As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, We are not enemies, but friends…though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn - I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your President too.

And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of our world - our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand. To those who would tear this world down - we will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security - we support you. And to all those who have wondered if Americas beacon still burns as bright - tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from our the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity, and unyielding hope.

For that is the true genius of America - that America can change. Our union can be perfected. And what we have already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.

This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one thats on my mind tonight is about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. Shes a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election except for one thing - Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.

She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldnt vote for two reasons - because she was a woman and because of the color of her skin.

And tonight, I think about all that shes seen throughout her century in America - the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we cant, and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes we can.

At a time when womens voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes we can.

When there was despair in the dust bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs and a new sense of common purpose. Yes we can.

When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes we can.

She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma, and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that We Shall Overcome. Yes we can.

A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination. And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change. Yes we can.

America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves - if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?

This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. This is our time - to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth - that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those who tell us that we cant, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people:

Yes We Can. Thank you, God bless you, and may God Bless the United States of America.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Daily Planetary Correspondence

Ruled by The Sun
Rules health, prosperity, leadership, joy, and protection
Use for magicks involving happiness, prosperity, joy, healing, protection, power, leadership, ego, authority figures, fathers, husbands
Energy: Male

Ruled by The Moon
Rules emotions, protection, healing, and women's mysteries
Use for magicks involving the subconscious, healing, emotions, love, spirituality, healing wounds, children, small animals, women's mysteries, the female side of men, mothers, sisters, female partners, wives, instincts
Energy: Female

Ruled by Mars
Rules conquest, power over enemies
Use for magicks involving war, lust, violence, fast action, victory over enemies, strength, endurance, leadership, independence, physical competitions
Energy: Male

Ruled by Mercury
Rules healings, the mind
Use for magicks involving mental issues, learning, higher education, addictions, communications, travel, young people, messages, perception, selfexpression, artists, poets, and writers
Energy: Male

Ruled by Jupiter
Rules growth, expansion, generosity
Use for magicks involving growth, expansion, prosperity, money, business, attracting more of what you have
Energy: Male

Ruled by Venus
Rules lovers and pleasure, affairs of the heart
Use for magicks involving love, peace, beauty, gentleness, women's problems, healing, protection, lovers, ease, pleasure, affairs
Energy: Female

Ruled by Saturn
Rules obstacles, overcoming blockages
Use for magicks involving overcoming limitations, the elderly, endings, deaths, blocks, constrictions, and those restricting you
Energy: Female


"Take my tidings:
Stags contend;
Snows descend--
Summer's end!

"A chill wind raging,
The sun low keeping,
Swift to set
O'er seas high sweeping.

"Dull red the fern;
Shapes are shadows;
Wild geese mourn
O'er misty meadows.

"Keen cold limes each weaker wing,
Icy times--
Such I sing!
Take my tidings."

--GRAVES: First Winter Song.

Then the flocks were driven in, and men first had leisure after harvest toil. Fires were built as a thanksgiving to Baal for harvest. The old fire on the altar was quenched, and the new one made, as were all sacred fires, by friction. It was called "forced-fire." A wheel and a spindle were used: the wheel, the sun symbol, was turned from east to west, sunwise. The sparks were caught in tow, blazed upon the altar, and were passed on to light the hilltop fires. The new fire was given next morning, New Year's Day, by the priests to the people to light their hearths, where all fires had been extinguished. The blessed fire was thought to protect the year through the home it warmed. In Ireland the altar was Tlactga, on the hill of Ward in Meath, where sacrifices, especially black sheep, were burnt in the new fire. From the death struggles and look of the creatures omens for the future year were taken.

The year was over, and the sun's life of a year was done. The Celts thought that at this time the sun fell a victim for six months to the powers of winter darkness. In Egyptian mythology one of the sun-gods, Osiris, was lsain at a banquet by his brother Sitou, the god of darkness. On the anniversary of the murder, the first day of winter, no Egyptian would begin any new business for fear of bad luck, since the spirit of evil was then in power.

From the idea that the sun suffered from his enemies on this day grew the association of Samhain with death.

"The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year,
Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere.
Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the wither'd leaves lie dead;
They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread.
The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrub the jay
And from the wood-top calls the crow, through all the gloomy day.

"The wind-flower and the violet, they perished long ago,
And the wild rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow:
But on the hill the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood,
And the yellow sun-flower by the brook in autumn beauty stood,
Till fell the frost from the cold clear heaven, as falls the plague on men,
And the brightness of their smile was gone from upland, glade, and glen."

--BRYANT: Death of the Flowers.

In the same state as those who are dead, are those who have never lived, dwelling right in the world, but invisible to most mortals at most times. Seers could see them at any time, and if very many were abroad at once others might get a chance to watch them too.

"There is a world in which we dwell,
And yet a world invisible.
And do not think that naught can be
Save only what with eyes ye see:
I tell ye that, this very hour,
Had but your sight a spirit's power,
Ye would be looking, eye to eye,
At a terrific company."

--COXE: Hallowe'en.

These supernatural spirits ruled the dead. There were two classes: the Tuatha De Danann, "the people of the goddess Danu," gods of light and life; and spirits of darkness and evil. The Tuatha had their chief seat on the Isle of Man, in the middle of the Irish Sea, and brought under their power the islands about them. On a Midsummer Day they vanquished the Fir Bolgs and gained most of Ireland, by the battle of Moytura.

A long time afterwards--perhaps 1000 B.C.--the Fomor, sea-demons, after destroying nearly all their enemies by plagues, exacted from those remaining, as tribute, "a third part of their corn, a third part of their milk, and a third part of their children." This tax was paid on Samhain. It was on the week before Samhain that the Fomor landed upon Ireland. On the eve of Samhain the gods met them in the second battle of Moytura, and they were driven back into the ocean.

As Tigernmas, a mythical king of Ireland, was sacrificing "the firstlings of every issue, and the scions of every clan" to Crom Croich, the king idol, and lay prostrate before the image, he and three-fourths of his men mysteriously disappeared.

"Then came
Tigernmas, the prince of Tara yonder
On Hallowe'en with many hosts.
A cause of grief to them was the deed.
Dead were the men
Of Bamba's host, without happy strength
Around Tigernmas, the destructive man of the north,
From the worship of Crom Cruaich. 'Twas no luck for them.
For I have learnt,
Except one-fourth of the keen Gaels,
Not a man alive--lasting the snare!
Escaped without death in his mouth."

--Dinnsenchus of Mag Slecht (Meyer trans.).

This was direct invocation, but the fire rites which were continued so long afterwards were really only worshipping the sun by proxy, in his nearest likeness, fire.

Samhain was then a day sacred to the death of the sun, on which had been paid a sacrifice of death to evil powers. Though overcome at Moytura evil was ascendant at Samhain. Methods of finding out the will of spirits and the future naturally worked better then, charms and invocations had more power, for the spirits were near to help, if care was taken not to anger them, and due honors paid.

New Orleans Superstitions

by Lafcadio Hearn

from An American miscellany, vol. II, (1924)
originally published in Harper's weekly, December 25th, 1886


The question "What is Voudooism?" could scarcely be answered to-day by any resident of New Orleans unfamiliar with the life of the African west coast, or the superstitions of Hayti, either through study or personal observation. The old generation of planters in whose day Voudooism had a recognized existence--so dangerous as a motive power for black insurrection that severe measures were adopted against it--has passed away; and the only person I ever met who had, as a child in his colored nurse's care, the rare experience of witnessing a Voudoo ceremonial, died some three years ago, at the advanced age of seventy-six. As a religion--an imported faith--Voudooism in Louisiana is really dead; the rites of its serpent worship are forgotten; the meaning of its strange and frenzied chants, whereof some fragments linger as refrains in negro song, is not now known even to those who remember the words; and the story of its former existence is only revealed to the folklorists by the multitudinous débris of African superstition which it has left behind it. These only I propose to consider now; for what is to-day called Voudooism in New Orleans means, not an African cultus, but a curious class of negro practices, some possibly derived from it, and others which bear resemblance to the magic of the Middle Ages. What could be more mediæval, for instance, than molding a waxen heart, and sticking pins in it, or melting it slowly before a fire, while charms are being repeated with the hope that as the waxen heart melts or breaks, the life of some enemy will depart? What, again, could remind us more of thirteenth-century superstition than the burning of a certain number of tapers to compel some absent person's return, with the idea that before the last taper is consumed a mysterious mesmerism will force the wanderer to cross rivers and mountains if necessary on his or her way back?

The fear of what are styled "Voudoo charms" is much more widely spread in Louisiana than any one who had conversed only with educated residents might suppose; and the most familiar superstition of this class is the belief in what I might call pillow magic, which is the supposed art of causing wasting sicknesses or even death by putting certain objects into the pillow of the bed in which the hated person sleeps. Feather pillows are supposed to be particularly well adapted to this kind of witchcraft. It is believed that by secret spells a "Voudoo" can cause some monstrous kind of bird or nondescript animal to shape itself into being out of the pillow feathers--like the tupilek of the Esquimau iliseenek (witchcraft.) It grows very slowly, and by night only; but when completely formed, the person who has been using the pillow dies. Another practice of pillow witchcraft consists in tearing a living bird asunder--usually a cock--and putting portions of the wings into the pillow. A third form of the black-art is confined to putting certain charms or fetiches--consisting of bones, hair, feathers, rags, strings, or some fantastic combination of these and other trifling objects--into any sort of a pillow used by the party whom it is desired to injure. The pure Africanism of this practice needs no comment. Any exact idea concerning the use of each particular kind of charm I have not been able to discover; and I doubt whether those who practise such fetichism know the original African beliefs connected with it. Some say that putting grains of corn into a child's pillow "prevents it from growing any more"; others declare that a bit of cloth in a grown person's pillow will cause wasting sickness; but different parties questioned by me gave each a different signification to the use of similar charms. Putting an open pair of scissors under the pillow before going to bed is supposed to insure a pleasant sleep in spite of fetiches; but the surest way to provide against being "hoodooed," as American residents call it, is to open one's pillow from time to time. If any charms are found, they must be first sprinkled with salt, then burned. A Spanish resident told me that her eldest daughter had been unable to sleep for weeks, owing to a fetich that had been put into her pillow by a spiteful colored domestic. After the object had been duly exorcised and burned, all the young lady's restlessness departed. A friend of mine living in one of the country parishes once found a tow string in his pillow, into the fibers of which a great number of feather stems had either been introduced or had introduced themselves. He wished to retain it as a curiosity, but no sooner did he exhibit it to some acquaintance than it was denounced as a Voudoo "trick," and my friend was actually compelled to burn it in the presence of witnesses. Everybody knows or ought to know that feathers in pillows have a natural tendency to cling and form clots or lumps of more or less curious form, but the discovery of these in some New Orleans households is enough to create a panic. They are viewed as incipient Voudoo tupileks. The sign of the cross is made over them by Catholics, and they are promptly committed to the flames.

Pillow magic alone, however, is far from being the only recognized form of maleficent negro witchcraft. Placing charms before the entrance of a house or room, or throwing them over a wall into a yard, is believed to be a deadly practice. When a charm is laid before a room door or hall door, oil is often poured on the floor or pavement in front of the threshold. It is supposed that whoever crosses an oil line falls into the power of the Voudoos. To break the oil charm, sand or salt should be strewn upon it. Only a few days before writing this article a very intelligent Spaniard told me that shortly after having discharged a dishonest colored servant he found before his bedroom door one evening a pool of oil with a charm Lying in the middle of it, and a candle burning near it. The charm contained some bones, feathers, hairs, and rags--all wrapped together with a string--and a dime. No superstitious person would have dared to use that dime; but my friend, not being superstitious, forthwith put it into his pocket.

The presence of that coin I can only attempt to explain by calling attention to another very interesting superstition connected with New Orleans fetichism. The negroes believe that in order to make an evil charm operate it is necessary to sacrifice something. Wine and cake are left occasionally in dark rooms, or candies are scattered over the sidewalk, by those who want to make their fetich hurt somebody. If food or sweetmeats are thus thrown away, they must be abandoned without a parting glance; the witch or wizard must not look back while engaged in the sacrifice.

Scattering dirt before a door, or making certain figures on the wall of a house with chalk, or crumbling dry leaves with the fingers and scattering the fragments before a residence, are also forms of a maleficent conjuring which sometimes cause serious annoyance. Happily the conjurers are almost as afraid of the counter-charms as the most superstitious persons are of the conjuring. An incident which occurred recently in one of the streets of the old quarter known as "Spanish Town" afforded me ocular proof of the fact. Through malice or thoughtlessness, or possibly in obedience to secret orders, a young negro girl had been tearing up some leaves and scattering them on the sidewalk in front of a cottage occupied by a French family. Just as she had dropped the last leaf the irate French woman rushed out with a broom and a handful of salt, and began to sweep away the leaves, after having flung salt both upon them and upon the little negress. The latter actually screamed with fright, and cried out, "Oh, pas jeté plis disel après moin, madame! pas bisoin jeté disel après moin; mo pas pé vini icite encore" (Oh, madam, don't throw any more salt after me; you needn't throw any more salt after me; I won't come here any more.)

Another strange belief connected with these practices was well illustrated by a gift made to my friend Professor William Henry by a negro servant for whom he had done some trifling favor. The gift consisted of a "frizzly hen"--one of those funny little fowls whose feathers all seem to curl. "Mars'r Henry, you keep dat frizzly hen, an' ef eny niggers frow eny conjure in your yard, dat frizzly hen will eat de conjure." Some say, however, that one is not safe unless he keeps two frizzly hens.

The naughty little negress at whom the salt was thrown seemed to fear the salt more than the broom pointed at her. But she was not yet fully educated, I suspect, in regard to superstitions. The negro's terror of a broom is of very ancient date--it may have an African origin. It was commented upon by Moreau de Saint-Méry in his work on San Domingo, published in 1196. "What especially irritates the negro," he wrote, "is to have a broom passed over any part of his body. He asks at once whether the person imagined that he was dead, and remains convinced that the act shortens his life." Very similar ideas concerning the broom linger in New Orleans. To point either end of a broom at a person is deemed bad luck; and many an ignorant man would instantly knock down or violently abuse the party who should point a broom at him. Moreover, the broom is supposed to have mysterious power as a means of getting rid of people. "If you are pestered by visitors whom you would wish never to see again, sprinkle salt on the floor after they go, and sweep it out by the same door through which they have gone, and they will never come back." To use a broom in the evening is bad luck: balayer le soir, on balaye sa fortune (to sweep in the evening is to sweep your good luck away), remains a well-quoted proverb.

I do not know of a more mysterious disease than muscular atrophy in certain forms, yet it is by no means uncommon either in New Orleans or in the other leading cities of the United States. But in New Orleans, among the colored people, and among many of the uneducated of other races, the victim of muscular atrophy is believed to be the victim of Voudooism. A notion is prevalent that negro witches possess knowledge of a secret poison which may terminate life instantly or cause a slow "withering away," according as the dose is administered. A Frenchman under treatment for paralysis informed me that his misfortune was certainly the work of Voudoos, and that his wife and child had died through the secret agency of negro wizards. Mental aberration is also said to be caused by the administration of poisons whereof some few negroes are alleged to possess the secret. In short, some very superstitious persons of both races live in perpetual dread of imaginary Voudoos, and fancy that the least ailment from which they suffer is the work of sorcery. It is very doubtful whether any knowledge of those animal or vegetable poisons which leave no trace of their presence in the blood, and which may have been known to some slaves of African birth, still lingers in Louisiana, wide-spread as is the belief to the contrary. During the last decade there have been a few convictions of blacks for the crime of poisoning, but there was nothing at all mysterious or peculiar about these cases, and the toxic agent was invariably the most vulgar of all--arsenic, or some arsenious preparation in the shape of rat poison.


The story of the frizzly hen brings me to the subject of superstitions regarding animals. Something of the African, or at least of the San Domingan, worship of the cock seems to have been transplanted hither by the blacks, and to linger in New Orleans under various metamorphoses. A negro charm to retain the affections of a lover consists in tying up the legs of the bird to the head, and plunging the creature alive into a vessel of gin or other spirits. Tearing the live bird asunder is another cruel charm, by which some negroes believe that a sweetheart may become magically fettered to the man who performs the quartering. Here, as in other parts of the world, the crowing hen is killed, the hooting of the owl presages death or bad luck, and the crowing of the cock by day presages the arrival of company. The wren (roitelet) must not be killed: c'est zozeau bon Dié (it is the good God's bird)--a belief, I think, of European origin.

It is dangerous to throw hair-combings away instead of burning them, because birds may weave them into their nests and while the nest remains the person to whom the hair belonged will have a continual headache. It is bad luck to move a cat from one house to another; seven years' bad luck to kill a cat; and the girl who steps, accidentally or otherwise, on a cat's tail need not expect to be married the same year. The apparition of a white butterfly means good news. The neighing of a horse before one's door is bad luck. When a fly bothers one very persistently, one may expect to meet an acquaintance who has been absent many years.

There are many superstitions about marriage, which seem to have a European origin, but are not less interesting on that account. "Twice a bridesmaid, never a bride," is a proverb which needs no comment. The bride must not keep the pins which fastened her wedding dress. The husband must never take off his wedding ring: to take it off will insure him bad luck of some kind. If a girl who is engaged accidentally lets a knife fall, it is a sign that her lover is coming. Fair or foul weather upon her marriage day augurs a happy or unhappy married life.

The superstitions connected with death may be all imported, but I have never been able to find a foreign origin for some of them. It is bad luck to whistle or hum the air that a band plays at a funeral. If a funeral stops before your house, it means that the dead wants company. It is bad luck to cross a funeral procession, or to count the number of carriages in it; if you do count them, you may expect to die after the expiration of as many weeks as there were carriages at the funeral. If at the cemetery there be any unusual delay in burying the dead, caused by any unlooked for circumstances, such as the tomb proving too small to admit the coffin, it is a sign that the deceased is selecting a companion from among those present, and one of the mourners must soon die. It is bad luck to carry a spade through a house. A bed should never be placed with its foot pointing toward the street door, for corpses leave the house feet foremost. It is bad luck to travel with a priest; this idea seems to me of Spanish importation; and I am inclined to attribute a similar origin to the strange tropical superstition about the banana, which I obtained, nevertheless, from an Italian. You must not cut a banana, but simply break it with the fingers, because in cutting it you cut the cross. It does not require a very powerful imagination to discern in a severed section of the fruit the ghostly suggestion of a crucifixion.

Some other creole superstitions are equally characterized by naïve beauty. Never put out with your finger the little red spark that tries to linger on the wick of a blown-out candle: just so long as it burns, some soul in purgatory enjoys rest from torment. Shooting-stars are souls escaping from purgatory: if you can make a good wish three times before the star disappears, the wish will be granted. When there is sunshine and rain together, a colored nurse will tell the children, "Gadé! djabe apé batte so femme." (Look! the devil's beating his wife!)

I will conclude this little paper with selections from a list of superstitions which I find widely spread, not citing them as of indubitable creole origin, but simply calling attention to their prevalence in New Orleans, and leaving the comparative study of them to folklorists.

Turning the foot suddenly in walking means bad or good luck. If the right foot turns, it is bad luck; if the left, good. This superstition seems African, according to a statement made by Moreau de Saint-Méry. Some reverse the conditions, making the turning of the left foot bad luck. It is also bad luck to walk about the house with one shoe on and one shoe off. or as a creole acquaintance explained it to me "c'est appeler sa mère ou son père dans le tombeau" (It is calling one's mother or one's father into the grave). An itching in the right palm means coming gain; in the left, coming loss.

Never leave a house by a different door from that by which you entered it; it is "carrying away the good luck of the place." Never live in a house you build before it has been rented for at least a year. When an aged person repairs his or her house, he or she is soon to die. Never pass a child through a window; it stops his growth. Stepping over a child does the same; therefore, whoever takes such a step inadvertently must step back again to break the evil spell. Never tilt a rocking-chair when it is empty. Never tell a bad dream before breakfast, unless you want it "to come true"; and never pare the nails on Monday morning before taking a cup of coffee. A funny superstition about windows is given me in this note by a friend: "Il ne faut pas faire passer un enfant par la fenêtre, car avant un an il y en aura un autre" (A child must not be passed through a window, for if so passed you will have another child before the lapse of a year.) This proverb, of course, interests only those who desire small families, and as a general rule creoles are proud of large families, and show extraordinary affection toward their children.

If two marriages are celebrated simultaneously, one of the husbands will die. Marry at the time of the moon's waning and your good luck will wane also. If two persons think and express the same thought at the same time, one of them will die before the year passes. To chop up food in a pot with a knife means a dispute in the house. If you have a ringing in your ears, some person is speaking badly of you; call out the names of all whom you suspect and when the ringing stops at the utterance of a certain name, you know who the party is. If two young girls are combing the hair of a third at the same time, it may be taken for granted that the youngest of the three will soon die. If you want to make it stop raining, plant a cross in the middle of the yard and sprinkle it with salt. The red-fish has the print of St. Peter's fingers on its tail. If water won't boil in the kettle, there may be a toad or a toad's egg in it. Never kill a spider in the afternoon or evening, but always kill the spider unlucky enough to show himself early in the morning, for the old French proverb says:

"Araignée du matin--chagrin;
Araignée du midi--plaisir;
Araignée du soir--espoir"

(A spider seen in the morning is a sign of grief; a spider seen an noon, of joy; a spider seen in the evening, of hope).

Even from this very brief sketch of New Orleans superstitions the reader may perceive that the subject is peculiar enough to merit the attention of experienced folklorists. It might be divided by a competent classifier under three heads: I. Negro superstitions confined to the black and colored. population; II. Negro superstitions which have proved contagious, and have spread among the uneducated classes of whites; III. Superstitions of Latin origin imported from France, Spain, and Italy. I have not touched much upon superstitions inherited from English, Irish, or Scotch sources, inasmuch as they have nothing especially local in their character here. It must be remembered that the refined classes have no share in these beliefs, and that, with a few really rational exceptions, the practices of creole medicine are ignored by educated persons. The study of creole superstitions has only an ethnological value, and that of creole medicine only a botanical one, in so far as it is related to empiricism.

All this represents an under side of New Orleans life; and if anything of it manages to push up to the surface, the curious growth makes itself visible only by some really pretty blossoms of feminine superstition in regard to weddings or betrothal rings, or by some dainty sprigs of child-lore, cultivated by those colored nurses who tell us that the little chickens throw up their heads while they drink to thank the good God for giving them water.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

T'was The Evening of Samhain


Twas the evening of Samhain, and all through the place
Were Pagans preparing the ritual space
The candles were set in the corners with care,
In hopes that the Watchtowers soon would be there
We all had our robes on, as is habitual
And had just settled down and were starting our ritual
When out on the porch there arose such a chorus
That we went to the door and waiting there for us
Were children in costumes of various kinds
With visions of chocolates bright in their minds.

In all of our working, we’d almost forgot,
But we had purchased candy, we’d purchased a Lot
And so, as they flocked from all over the street,
They all got some chocolate or something else sweet.
We didn’t think twice of delaying our rite
Kids just don’t have this much fun every night
For hours they came, with the time-honored schtick,
Of giving a choice: a treat or a trick.
As is proper, the parents were there for the games,
Watching the children and calling their names.
“on Vader, On Leia,
On Dexter and DeeDee,
On Xena, on Buffy,
On Casper and Tweety!
To the block of apartments on the neighboring road
You’ll get so much candy, you’ll have to be towed!

The volume of children eventually dropped,
And as it grew darker, it finally stopped.
But as we prepared to return to our rite
One child more stepped out of the night.
She wouldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen.
Her hair was deep red, and her robe, forest green
With a simple gold cord tying off at the waist.
She’d a staff in her had and a smile on her face.
No make-up, nor mask, or accompanying kitsch,
So we asked who she was; she replied, “A Witch”
And no, I don’t fly through the sky on my broom,
I only use that thing for cleaning my room.
My magical powers aren’t really that neat,
And I wont threaten tricks; I’ll just ask for a treat”.
We found it refreshing, so we gave incense cones,
A candle, a crystal, a few other stones.
And the rest of the candy which might fill a van.
She turned to her father, a man dressed as Pan
And laughed, “Yes, I know Dad, it’s past time for bed”,
And started to leave, but she first turned and said,
I’m sorry for further delaying your rite.
Blessed Samhain to all, and a magical night.

Pleiades Rising

Interesting bit of Trivia here:

The Celtic Year is split in 2 halves, Summer's Beginning (Beltane) and Summers' End (Samhain). The position of the Pleiades (also known as the Sieve or an Criathar in Irish) in the sky is the marker for the seasons. Samhain begins when the Pleiades rise at sunset.

The Pleiades' high visibility in the night sky has guaranteed it a special place in many cultures, both ancient and modern.

To the Greeks, they are the Seven Sisters.
To the Vikings, they are Freya's Hens
To the Maori, they are Matariki
To the Ban Raji, in western Nepal and northern India, they are the "Seven sisters-in-law and one brother-in-law"
To the Japanese, they are known as Subaru
In Arabic, they are known as al-Thurayya
In the Bible, they are mentioned as Khima and Talmud

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

What the Heck is a Hedgewitch Anyways?

This is one of my all time favourite essays on Hedgewitchery. Thought it was a good time to revisit it.

Via The Witches' Voice [aka].

Author: Juniper
Posted: September 9th. 2007
Times Viewed: 3,819

Hedgewitchery is a combination of Traditional Witchcraft (NOT Wicca) and Shamanism, with herbalism, healing, and a deep love for nature added to the mix.

Hedgewitchery is loosely based on the old wise woman (and man) Tradition. The wise woman Tradition is, quite possibly, the oldest eclectic magickal tradition. If you think “wise woman” and picture the strange old lady who sold herbs and magickal charms, acted as midwife and healer in the ancient times, you are not far off.

This tradition never truly died out, and in recent years, more and more people are turning to it and adapting it to modern times.

The word "Hedgewitch" may come from the Saxon word for Witch, haegtessa, which translates to "hedge-rider". The Old Norse lay Havamal refers to "hedge-riders, witching aloft".

Some may spell it with a capitol H, and some do not. Others will use a spelling such as “hedgewytch”. A few other names attached to this Craft: Hedge-Rider, Night Travelers, Myrk-Riders, Gandreidh (wand-rider), and Walkers on the Wind.

In the past, towns, villages and farmsteads had fences and hedgerows marking the boundary of the town, keeping the wilderness out. Crossing the hedge meant walking into the wild, where predatory animals, and all manner of fae creatures lived.

Back in the old times, many people never traveled more than a few miles from where they were born, and even then, they stuck to the roads and well-known paths of traders and huntsmen.

For the Hedgewitch, the hedge is a metaphor for the line drawn between this world and the next, between reality and dream, between the Upper, Middle, and Lower Worlds.

In the old days, the wise woman or Hedgewitch lived on the edges of the community, often on the other side of the town’s boundary hedge. They scratched out a living through herbalism, understanding nature, prophecy and divination as well as magick and healing.

The Hedgewitch served her community in many ways including but not only; midwifery, healing, protection spells, house blessings, crop and livestock blessings, through the selling of magickal charms and even curses. A Hedgewitch might sell one member of her community a small curse or ill-wish one day, and then charge its victim a fee to break the curse the next. The Hedgewitch was respected, and likely a little feared, because of these abilities, and because they had such a close relationship with nature and the magickal world.

Hedgewitches use herbs and shamanic techniques, such as drumming and meditation, to induce altered states of consciousness. They work with familiar spirits, their ancestral dead, plant and animal Totems to assist in their Otherworld work.

Hedgewitches often refer to shamanic journeys as “walking the hedge” or “crossing the hedge”. They also have a tendency to spend much of their lives with one foot on either side of the hedge, which makes them eccentric to say the least.

A Hedgewitch walks freely into caol ait (Gaelic), the “thin places” between one world and another. More experienced Hedgewitches learn not only to find such places, but how to use them effectively and how to open them even when the Veil is at its thickest between the sabbats.

For the Hedgewitch there is no separation between normal life and their magickal one, for their normal life is magickal.

In modern times, a Hedgewitch is usually found outside the city, perhaps on an acreage or farm, often practicing by her self or perhaps within the family. They work much as the old wise women of old, helping neighbors, friends and family with ailments, shamanic healing and even blessing the odd field.

Hedgewitches will work a lot in cultivated fields, gardens and farmsteads, but often prefer time spent in the woods and other wild areas. A Gardenwitch, Greenwitch or Kitchenwitch may work mostly in her cultivated garden; a Hedgewitch will likely spend more of her time gathering her herbs and such from the wild places. Although the practices have changed quite a lot, you will find most Hedgewitches practice as close to traditionally as possible in these modern times.

Hedgewitches are very adaptable. You may find a Hedgewitch casting an old-fashioned prosperity or fertility spell on a modern tractor as a favor to a neighbor, for example.

The main distinction between Hedgewitchery and other forms of Witchcraft is that Hedgewitches have less interest in the religious/ceremonial aspects of Coven or group Witchcraft, having an individual and often unique way of relating to life, spirituality and Creation.

A Hedgewitch is less likely to perform formal magickal workings, preferring simpler folk, or low, magic. The only tradition Hedgewitches typically follow is a reverence for Nature, though some may come from a more formal Pagan path originally.

Most Hedgewitches do what ever comes natural to them; they follow their instincts, and their heart. Most use few made man objects in their spells and rituals. Their tools are typically very practical, such as a walking stick or pruning shears, and their tools are hand made by them as much as possible. They avoid complicated formulated magick, practicing an earthy and simple form of ritual and magick. Some Hedgewitches do not cast Circles when practicing outdoors, for they feel it cuts them off from nature.

Hedgewitches usually study herbalism with gusto, as well as seeking knowledge and understanding of the ways of Nature, the cycle of the seasons and the wildlife and plant-life in their area.

Hedgewitches will not only know how to grow herbs in a garden, but also where and how they grow in the wild and how to gather them. They usually have a great deal of lore on trees and plane life, animals and the wilderness in general. Healing, divination, the use of trance inducing herbs and all manner of fertility rites are also a part of this Tradition.

Hedgewitches tailor their Tradition to suit themselves. Some may focus on herbalism, others study midwifery; some may practice reiki, and others may be well versed in healing with crystals. Some Hedgewitches may choose to be a jack-of-all-trades, but a master of none.

Sadly, there are few men called to this Path, and this may or may not change over time.
While Hedgewitchery is typically a solitary path, this is not always so. Even the most hermit-like Hedgewitch can still be found at local Pagan events. Also, some of their practices, especially the shamanic ones, require a trusted friend to watch over their body while their soul is elsewhere.

Hedgewitches are unlikely to become involved with Witch wars within the community, and depending on the individual’s personality, are more likely to prefer maintaining friendly relations with the majority of the Pagan community. Some may have friends or domestic partners who follow another Pagan or Heathen path, and they will often happily join in any ritual or activity if invited.

Spirituality in Hedgewitches varies and depends on the individual; usually they look to their own heritage and ancestry. Most commonly, Hedgewitches practice some form of NeoPaganism. The daily spiritual practice of a Hedgewitch will be adapted to her individual abilities, interests and life style.

One Hedgewitch may start her mornings offering up prayers of thanksgiving to her gods as she collects eggs from the chicken coop. Another Hedgewitch may spend her mornings in quiet meditation on her patio; sipping tea and watching the deer graze in her lawn. A third Hedgewitch may say a quick prayer at the household shrine before racing off to work.

So what the heck IS a Hedgewitch anyways?

Some people may prefer rural and/or wild settings and be a little wild themselves. They may be looking for a Shamanic Witchcraft Tradition that leans heavily on natural magic, understanding the wilderness and the practice of healing lore. They may have little interest in organized religion. They may wish to blaze their own Path, like the wise women of old.

They may just be 'Hedgewitches'.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

A Time of Letting Go

"During October, a dying sun is swallowed up by longer nights as the days grow shorter. The change in seasons shows on the forest floor as leaves drop from trees and the animals prepare for a winters sleep. The winds grow a bit crisper. Colors fade. The earth is letting go of all her summers work, punctuated by Samhain.

Samhain means "summer's end". Celebrations, rituals and rites occur from Oct 31 to the middle of November in an effort to accept and usher in the dark half of the year. The mysteries of the veil deepen as it thins between the worlds of the living and the dead. It is also the time of year when the Pleiades, or Seven Sisters, come closest to the earth and we feel their presence.

In the Celtic tradition, the Oak King gives way to the Holly King. The Oak King represents the virility of Summer, having mated with the May Queen and created the fruits of summer. But his time has passed and so the Oak King takes his crown and watches over the kingdom while the Goddess takes her rest, only to rise again in the spring.

This is a time of letting go. A perfect time to break bad habits. If you want change in your life, you need to make space for it. Rituals using fire: burning lists, pictures, or any other icon of negative patterns in your life have extra potency at this time of year. "

The Rising of the Crone

"In the Celtic world there is a Crone Goddess, worshiped for her role in the balance of the seasons. Her name is The Cailleach. She is the Winter Sun, mother to Dia Greine, the Celtic Sun Goddess, who as daughter blossoms in the spring. They emerge as the season change, revolving in a cycle syncopated to the seasons.

The Caileach emerges as a central figure in the Samhain Rituals. She connects us with our ancestors, reaching through the veil to bring us face to face with our own mortality. On the threshold of the dark half of the year, she offers lessons about the darkness.

At Samhain, we learn to embrace separation and death. We allow to die that which is no longer useful to us. We clear away debris, anything that is no longer relevant. We let the fields of our inner landscape lie fallow. By doing so, we align ourselves with the cosmic cycle of death and rebirth."

Clean House!

Samhain is the Yin period of the year to Beltane's Yang. It is the balance of the forces of nature. Since this time of year is wonderful for banishing, it is one of my favorites to clean house!

Beyond the physical cleaning, take the time to cleanse the house of any negative vibrations as well. One of our traditions is to invite over a few select friends, or members of your coven, and have a cleansing party. Here is what we do:

Starting widdershins, we have each person add a palmful of Celtic Sea Salt to each corner of the house and say "cleanse and bless, cleanse and bless, may all who dwell here live happiest." Then have each person dip a small bouquet of Lavender (our herb garden) and shake sacred well water (we use Glastonbury Water)into each corner and over the threshold saying the blessing. We then give all a wand of White Sage Wand and cedar grass dipped in Frankincense and camphor oils to burn and use the smoke to (smudge) seal the windows and doors of the house saying "only good may enter here." Finally, each person stands with a lit white candle, grouped into the corners of the house and chants 3 times "bless all who enter, may they find the peace they seek."

We then sweep up the salt and bury it along with the wands, sprinkling a bit of the water over the mound.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

I find your offense offensive.

you scolded me for
darkening your circle
dancing shadows
into your flash light fallacies
assaulted like a rape victim on
new year's eve
left to heave and bleed
in the snow
when i realized
the blood on my hands
and between my thighs
was my own
so with it
i decorate my own
smearing crimson arcs
of gore
across the landscape
of the fake world
i have created
to hide from the hurt
of the real one
changing my name
and embracing
the demons within

© 2008 by MCChadwick

This Scares the Hell Out of Me (and Explains A lot)!

This was a blog posted earlier today:

I am leaving to substitute teach to day. I didnt work yesterday and got yelled at by a secretary who has a job because she couldnt answer questions. I am not owrking much so I get to wonder why people get to be rude to new comers. NO NO there is no good to coem from arguing at site where you application is beign considered for a high paying job because a rude office assistant cant answer a question. Today shoudl be good .. 2nd grade. The sun is out. I promise to learn to upload fotos. namaste friends and members

And from their profile:

Official job, in life as we know it: teacher

This is what is teaching our youth? No wonder we are facing our current state of affairs... Sad. Disturbing. Downright frightening. Makes you wonder if home schooling is not a more beneficial route. It also makes me wonder if the poster did not get the job because of the rude office assistant or because said poster is a flaming idiot.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Reading 10/20 - Magick Mirror

Since I no longer have my Tribe or Ning places for y'all to lurk about and glean insight from (ha ha!) a few of you had asked that I post this here. This is just a cross post of the one on Facebook, so if you have already seen it, oh well. Will also be posted on STTLG, as well.

I usually work with my voodoo cards, so that is probably what I will be using the most often. They are never much further away than arms reach. This morning, there is weird energy running around my house. Started last night... Connie was in the living room and thought I was talking to her. T'wasn't me. I was in the back. Also got a whiff of the Onion Man. Have no idea who he is but every so often I just get the strongest smell of Green Onions, and then stuff goes all willy nilly. I suspect it may be because we are coming out of the retrograde and Samhain is just around the corner... Who knows. Samhain is WAY late this year too - November 7th...

Anyway - this morning I pulled the Magick Mirror, which, oddly enough (or maybe not) callus up occult powers, the moon, magic and sorcery. Interesting. It is a metaphor for the "other side" where the spirits reside. It calls us to make our eyes see - really see - not just look around. We must strive to not just SEE the world - but see into it. We're often blinded but the normalcy and routine that is our lives that we miss what is really going on and what the Universe is offering to us. For me, personally, this is very true right not. I tend to get so busy in getting things done lately that I miss all the glory that is happening around me. An old practice that Big Mama (my great-grandmother and mentor) used to have us do was to sit and watch our reflections until they began to move - and then to look BEYOND the mirror at what visions were swimming up.

So I think with this card today maybe we should just take a minute to hit the pause button. Look around. Listen. Enjoy. The magic is strong in the world right now and if we just take the time to chill out and embrace it, I feel that there are many, many joys to be had.

Kinda like the mystical version of stopping to smell the roses.


Ancestor Blessing

We used to do this every year when I was a kid. I think it's time to revive an old tradition.

Carve three Jack O' Lanterns. Each one should have a different face. They can be a happy face, a sad face, a peaceful face, an angry face, a scary face, and so on.

Place the three lighted pumpkins facing you in a semicircle. In the dark, begin to gaze at the faces. Ask that you may be shown in the flame something that in the past that will guide you in the present. relax and half-close your eyes, blinking when necessary.

You may see in the faces your beloved family members that have passed. You may sense their presence and feel a gentle wind or see a picture in your minds eye from the past. Nothing can harm you here. For you are merely connecting to family love that never dies.

Close you eyes and meditate on each face. Listen for the voices of your ancestors. This is the night of the year when it is easiest to make contact with the past dimensions and encounter those that can guide you to wise choices in the future. What you may encounter is your own evolved soul that can access the wisdom of other times and places.

When you are ready to end the experience, thank whomever you visited with. "Go in peace. May you be blessed on your own paths of wisdom." Burn some sage incense.

Name each ancestor who comes to mind and say " May they be blessed and protected." Don't forget to include yourself. If you still harbor resentments with anyone who has come forward, you may ask for forgiveness and to forgive at this time.

Smudge the room and yourself. Take the Jack O'Lanterns and place them in windows, letting the candles burn out.

Moon in Cancer

Oct 18, 2008 to Oct 21, 2008

You might be a little sensitive during this Moon. Unfortunately, everyone else is too. If you find yourself in deep water now, look to your intuition to get you out. The real issues are often hidden on Cancer Moon days, or dealt with sideways. People tend to circle the emotional wagons, reach for their antacids, and privately nurse their wounds. The collective unconscious is four years old and wants its mommy. Go ahead, seek nurture today. It's like that children's story where the baby bird, tumbled from its nest, quizzes all comers, "Are you my mother?" Only you're looking for the World Mother. You'll find her in a cozy place where you feel safe and loved; in a cup of tea, a mid-day retreat to your bed or a smile from a friend. Whether or not you have issues, it's a good Moontime for sharpening your emotional intelligence. Distinguish foods that nourish (both real and symbolic) from those that bring heartburn.

Astrological Sabbat Dates

Many of us have set calendar dates on which we celebrate the sabbats for the ease of remembering them, such as Samhain being celebrated on October 31 annually.
In Tradition, the Sabbat dates fall upon a date during which the Sun is in a certain degree of a specific astrological house. While the astrological dates might be more technical, what with having the planetary layout and subsequent astrological influences to one's advantage, neither date of celebration is considered "wrong".

Following is the astrological date chart, and the astrological dates of each Sabbat.

Samhain: Sun is at 15° Scorpio
Yule: Sun is at 1° Capricorn
Imbolc: Sun is at 15° Aquarius
Ostara: Sun is at 1° Aries
Beltaine: Sun is at 15° Taurus
Litha: Sun is at 1° Cancer
Lammas: Sun is at 15° Leo
Mabon: Sun is at 1° Libra

Imbolc 2008: February 4
Ostara 2008: March 21
Beltaine 2008: May 5
Litha 2008: June 22
Lammas 2008: August 7
Mabon 2008: September 23
Samhain 2008: November 7
Yule 2008: December 22

Imbolc 2009: February 4
Ostara 2009: March 22
Beltaine 2009: May 6
Litha 2009: June 23
Lammas 2009: August 8
Mabon 2009: September 24
Samhain 2009: November 8
Yule 2009: December 23

Friday, October 17, 2008

There's No Place Like Home (and I NEED to get back there!!!)

When Felipe’s, proprietor of New Orleans’ best $5 plates slung up like prison slop, announced that it was opening a second location on the corner of Decatur and North Peters streets, I chalked it up to divine providence. Ditto for La Divina, whose new Place d’Armes outpost makes the city’s finest gelato fix an any-hour possibility. (Although I will miss scoffing at those poor, misguided souls sitting outside of Sucré, crowing over a costlier and inferior product while subsidizing the sweet boutique’s stainless steel Sub-Zeros and travertine trimmings.) But the news of Iris Restaurant’s impending Bienville House relocation — technically not a franchise, I’m aware, but Carrollton’s loss is still the Quarter’s gain, and on behalf of Sixth Warders from Rampart Street to the river, allow me to say: nanny nanny boo boo — has me considering more scientific conspiracy theories. How else to explain the great Vieux Carré migration of so many favorite eateries? Maybe some physics-minded foodie and St. Philip Street denizen designed a gastro-magnet in his fourth-floor attic? Or could the city actually be folding up on itself, Stephen Hawking-style? Whatever the reason, it seems to be the epicurean equivalent of running up the score — after all, we already lay claim to arguably the best fine-dining (Stella!), diner fare (Clover Grill), patisserie (Croissant d’Or), seafood (GW Fins), coffeeshop (Café du Monde), steakhouse (Dickie Brennan’s), burger joint (Port of Call) and convenience-store-deli health violations (Verti Marte) in the Croissant City limits. Plus, ever since the Delachaise quietly kicked open the doors of its North Rampart digs in August, we’ve had the market cornered on domestic beer denial and brusque French bartenders, too. Coming soon: $14 tapas supremacy. Your serve, Uptown.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Ever wonder what...

Tribe Refugees on Ning was like?

Watch this:


I stand
danced to death
in the faerie circle
i dared to re enter
waiting for the mother's ship
to flutter by
and carry me
from this mud trodden
bus stop
i feel my back cracking
wings unfurling
in glorious rebellion
and i realize i can fly
myself home
to my family and away
from these earth bound
fae ways of judgement
and i suddenly
find myself
at Tara
amongst kin
singing to save
her soul
and uniting our own
in a cacophonous flight
of butterfly magic
and light

© 2008 by MCChadwick

Get Off (My Ass)

I didn't kill the fucking rabbit
I didn't kill my daughter
Blue Bus passenger
when we hit the speed bump
Easter Eggs spattered
like a cum stain on a
one night stand
wipe your eyes
spit or swallow
a thousand sons
kin and grandkids
dying on your
hypocritical lips
it was not my control
to wield or relinquish
the razor blade gulp
caught me unawares
leaving me in the same cloud
of dust and exhaust
blind dazed
by its glory and finality
broken limbed and bleeding
entrails draped over your judgement
and the ropes binding me to your stake

© 2008 by MCChadwick

Killer Trannies for Halloween or That Man in High Heels Tried to Kill Me!

I am a die hard fan of the crap horror movie. I just can't help it. So when I found this article I just about wet my panties. It's regarding the top fifteen trannie killers of all time. You have NO idea how much some of these movies influenced me. Angela especially. Sleepaway Camp made me want to be a homicidal chick-with-a-dick when I was younger and had a HUGE effect on what became Dazey Mayhem.

Anyway - check this article out and then check out the movies. Well worth your time to waste!

Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho not only jumpstarted the modern horror film, it also introduced a new kind of villain to movie audiences – the transexual killer. The climactic image of a crazed, knife wielding Norman Bates, dressed up like mommy was a perverse shock for the conservative movies audiences of the early sixties. Infused with the kind of psycho-sexual undercurrents that shockmeister filmmakers love to exploit, the Trans-Killer sub-genre grew out of the matchbook psychobabble on serial killers that began to proliferate after Psycho’s success and the sensational true life crimes of crazy fuckers like Ed Gein and the Zodiac Killer... More...

Wednesday, October 15, 2008


Test post for Facebook and MySpace feeds. Had to change the URL to the blog thanks to idiots from Ning and Tribe and their apparent lack of anything better to do than to fill my blog with idiotic comments...

Gotta Love Glen Hanson

Oh Glen Hanson, this is downright UNAMERICAN!

Glen Hanson (dot) Com

How dare you dare to disagree...?

Wow. I have been on this quest to find and/or maintain some vague modicum of faith in humanity. Gave turdy people the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it was just a bad day. Maybe they were just a snarky bitch but there was - maybe - something resembling a human heart underneath it all. Maybe they just need a friend.

Unfortunately, this has been a quest in failure. People - by default - are shits. The occasional awesomeness is a total fluke.

Who knew that when I deleted my account(s) on these dumb networking sites it would there by render me non-existent or - better yet - an asshole. What a trip.

And I love all the drama that went down over at Tribe Refugees with the porn ads and chaos. The site got deemed "Adult Content" because people were posting inappropriate photos for the TOU of the site. A day before I had blogged (on there) about some NASTY bitch posting photos of close ups of her un-mowed crotch in soggy panties and how it about made me lose my lunch. The next day Ning swooped in. So I was being accused of turning in the greasy pud's pictures - which I did NOT do. I merely changed my log in to my actual profile rather than the main page so I didn't have to see whatever people were posting and left it at that. But then - and here's the kicker - I ALSO got accused of having illicit photos on my profile - which I did NOT have - and single handedly causing the censorship. When I responded to this attack, I was called out by the moderator of the group - and then a separate thread was posted (by said moderator) demanding respect and telling (me) not to overreact. Sorry but I don't take false accusations against myself in a public forum lightly. So - well - from yesterday's post you can see just how well I overreacted. My question is - how could I have HAD the porn in question - AND reported the porn in question - and gotten the network locked down. Maybe I am missing something but it makes no sense to me. Fuck 'em and feed 'em fish.

But what I am loving the most about all of this is that now my "friends" from these damned sites are completely treating me like I have the plague. I have written to a few of them and - at best - am getting one or two word responses - if anything at all.

So - in this derailed rambling ass blog I guess what it boils down to is this. People suck. Ass. A lot. Don't trust 'em. Don't believe in 'em. It's all bullshit. But I guess that's what you get for befriending people hiding behind some online profile. If they have that much time to sit in front of a computer all day long it should give pause as to why they aren't out there interacting with actual humans in the Real World.

Fuck it.

So what.

I am a rock star...


Tuesday, October 14, 2008

It's Britney, Bitch!

The song is absolutely horrendous in its glorious, tacky, Britneyness - and that's what I love about it. Only Brit can be this bad and this good at the same time... Or is its being so bad what makes it good? I dunno. Total pop trash. I am just glad to see her back and somewhat sane... Poor kid.

On with the attrocity!

Sweeping out the Rabbit's Den (AKA: Move you fucking little turds!!!)

I just took a Rabbit sized bulldozer and leveled a whole mess of bullshit this morning. Was a member of Tribe for the last couple of years and - total understatement here - it's slowly gone to utter shit. So, like most of the Tribers, I migrated over to "Tribe Refugees" on Ning. In theory, this was a good idea. It was similar enough to Tribe that you kept the same contacts and the same basic feel as Tribe. The problem was it was so open and this massive infestation of Trolls and Dickcheese also came with it. Another problem is that with it being an Open Network, there were rules that one had to follow in order for it to remain open and not be classified as an Adult Network. Well, you know how well Rotten Twatted Trolls can be... So that didn't last long. Yesterday it was deemed adult content by the powers that be at Ning. Fun stuff. And then the ruckus began and the Cyber Roaches came out in full force - bitching and moaning and attacking and just causing all matters of general horseshit. I even got personally attacked in one of the groups I belong to by some Pus Rocket (regarding blowjob photos and some such shit about zoo monkeys)!!! I - still - have no idea what she was talking about... Maybe this bitch missed her meds... Or maybe she took too many - who knows...

So - with Tribe not working and Ning becoming something like a bit of used ass paper floating in an unflushed toilet - in true Rabbit Fashion I just said FUCK IT ALL and deleted everything on both websites and closed my accounts.

Aint overreaction fun??? (It felt good actually.)

Social networking should be an enjoyable experience. Not something that rolls up your morning newspaper and ass fucks you with it on a daily basis. I can give myself paper cuts if that's the case.

Done. Over it.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

The people that matter I still have contact with - the ones that don't - well I don't mind that they don't matter.

Onward and upward. Time to move on.

Good riddance to bad rubbish.

*peers out window*

Wonder what the Real World is like these days....

Saturday, October 11, 2008

Go Directly to Jail... Do Not Pass Go...

A year later... One year ago today I was walking into my jail cell. I had actually been at the jail for two days - but spent the first 48 hours in a holding cell with a sea of what one might call humanity and a broken toilet. It was pretty slick of the jailers, actually - because by the time you actually got OUT of there and into your actual cell, you were so thankful just to be in someplace new. The crappy metal bed was such a relief after being on the hard floor or sleeping standing up that it made you very gracious for your new surroundings.

I remember the days leading up to my incarceration everyone kept telling me not to worry. It was all going to be okay. I wouldn't really go to jail. But some part of me knew such was not the case. In my soul I knew I would. I really think it freaked everyone else out more than me. At some level I had already accepted it and made as much peace as I could with the whole idea.

And then - there I was. Locked up. And, truth be told, I didn't mind it. Worst part of it was the constant racket and lights on all the damn time - but other than that, no biggie. I fell into the routine so quickly. I went to "work." I did my job. It was a routine. I knew what to expect. I knew what was expected of me. I spent my days counting the hours until my release.

Yet when that day came - I didn't want to go home. I remember sitting there that morning at about 4 a.m. wishing - hoping - something would come up and they wouldn't let me go. That maybe someone somewhere had screwed something up and I would have to stay longer. No such luck. Five o'clock came and my name was called and within the hour I was back on the outside. And I couldn't have been more disappointed.


Though I wouldn't do anything to go back (now) and it's not my desire to be in jail - I do still visit those feelings. I am really not sure what it was that appealed to me so much. A combination of stability and routine that was so contradictory to my life as it was on the outside? A freedom from the lunacy of the people in my life? I don't know.

I'm glad I went. I won't go back. But I am glad I went.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

It's a sad day... Internet Hell when MySpace is a better alternative than Tribe. I am about this close to just killing my membership altoghether over there.

And this is really just a test message to make sure my RSS is working properly.


Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Letter to People without Chronic Pain

A friend of mine sent this to me via email. While I can't seem to find out who the original author of the letter is, it is one of the most accurate accounts of what I, personally, go through. While reading it I kept nodding my head and saying to myself, "Yes... Yes." If you are one of those that lives with or knows someone dealing with chronic pain, this might offer some insight. If you are one of us living with it ourselves, you will certainly appreciate its candor.

And if anyone knows who initially wrote this or where it came from, please let me know.


[photo: "Knot" © 2006 - 2008 by Vidi on Deviant Art]


Letter to people without chronic pain:

Having chronic pain means many things change, and a lot of them are invisible. Unlike having cancer or being hurt in an accident, most people do not understand even a little about chronic pain and its affects, and of those that think they know, many are actually misinformed.

In the spirit of informing those who wish to understand:

These are the things that I would like you to understand about me before you judge me.

Please understand that being sick doesn’t mean I’m not still a human being. I have to spend most of my day in considerable pain and exhaustion, and if you visit, sometimes I’m not much fun to be with, but I’m still me– stuck inside this body. I still worry about school, my family, my friends, and most of the time, I’d like to hear you talk about yours too.

Please understand the difference between “happy” and “healthy.” When you’ve got the flu, you probably feel miserable with it, but, I’ve been sick for years. I can’t be miserable all the time. In fact, I work hard not being miserable. So, if your talking to me and I sound happy, it means I’m happy. That’s all. It doesn’t mean that I’m not in a lot of pain, or extremely tired, or that I’m getting better, or, any of those things. Please don’t say, “Oh, you’re sounding better!” or “But, you look so healthy!” I am merely coping. I am sounding happy and trying to look “normal.” If you want to comment on that, you’re welcome.

Please understand that being able to stand up for ten minutes doesn’t necessarily mean that I can stand up for twenty minutes or an hour. Just because I managed to stand up for thirty minutes yesterday doesn’t mean that I can do the same today. With a lot of diseases you’re paralyzed and can’t move. With this one, it gets more confusing everyday. It can be like a yo yo. I never know from day to day how I am going to feel when I wake up. In most cases, I never know from minute to minute. This is one of the hardest and most frustrating components of chronic pain.

Thats what chronic pain does to you.

Please understand that chronic pain is variable. It’s quite possible (for many, it’s common) that one day I am able to walk to the park and back, while the next day I’ll have trouble getting to the next room. Please don’t attack me when I’m ill by saying ” You did it before” or “oh I know you can do this!” If you want me to do something, ask if I can. In a similar vein, I may need to cancel a previous commitment at the last minute. If this happens, please do not take it personally. If you are able, please try to always remember how very lucky you are to be physically able to do all of the things that you can do.

Please understand that the “getting out and doing things” does not make me feel better, and can often make me seriously worse. You don’t know what I go through or how I suffer in my own private time. Telling me that I need exercise, or do some things to “get my mind off of it” may frustrate me to tears and is not correct. If I was capable of doing some things any or all of the time, don’t you think I would?

I am working with my doctor and I am doing what I am supposed to do.

Another statement that hurts is: “You just need to push yourself more, try harder.” Chronic pain can affect the whole body or be localized to specific areas. Sometimes participating in a single activity for a short or a long period of time can cause more damage and physical pain than you could ever imagine. Not to mention the recovery time, which can be intense. You can’t always read it on my face or in my body language. Also, chronic pain may cause secondary depression (wouldn’t you get depressed and down if you were hurting constantly for months or years?), but it is not created by depression.

Please understand that if I have to sit down, lie down, stay in bed, or take these pills now, that probably means that I do have to do it right now. It can’t be put off of forgotten just because I’m somewhere or I in the middle of doing something. Chronic pain does not forgive, nor does it wait for anyone.

If you want to suggest a cure to me, please don’t. It’s not because I don’t appreciate the thought, and it’s not because I don’t want to get well. Lord knows that isn’t true. In all likelihood if you’ve heard of it or tried it, so have I. In some cases, I have been made sicker, not better. This can involve side effects or allergic reactions. It also has includes failure, which in and of itself can make me feel even lower. If there was something that cured, or even helped people with my form of chronic pain, then we’d know about it. There is worldwide networking (both on and off the Internet) between people with chronic pain. If something worked, we would KNOW. Its definitely not for lack of trying. If, after reading this, you still feel the need to suggest a cure, then so be it. I may take what you said and discuss it with my doctor.

If I seem touchy, its probably because I am. It’s not how I try to be. As a matter of fact, I try very hard to be “normal.” I hope you will try to understand my situation unless you have been in my shoes, but as much as possible, I am asking you to try to be understanding in general.

In many ways I depend on you — people who are not sick. I need you to visit me when I am too sick to go out. Sometimes I need you to help me with the shopping, cooking or cleaning. I may need you to take me to the doctor or to the store. You are my link to normalcy. You can help me to keep in touch with the parts of my life that I miss and fully intend to undertake again, just as soon as I am able.

I know that I ask a lot from you, and I thank you for listening. It really does mean a lot.

- Author Unknown