#Holy Spirit being semen

[certifiablyinsanez]

“I’d jump his bones like I’m a feral dog.”

-Me, an asexual lesbian, talking about Michael Sheen to my asexual partner who agrees.

#my eggs dropped just looking at him #my reproductive system goes crazy with him on the screen #I’d drink his seed with more reverence than I ever did with the body and blood of Christ #in the name of the father son and his Holy Spirit #Holy Spirit being semen #Anna lundberg I understand you so well #good omens #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #michael sheen

[mapimariposa]

VENUS AS A BOY

Tim Cury in "The Rocky Horror Picture Show", 1975

The body is the vessel through which we experience life and creation and so it has the power to tie us to earth as well as free us from it. The spirit and the body have been treated as separate concepts, but this isn’t necessarily true for female bodies.

“To deny the relevance of our gendered body in spiritual life is part of a worldview that sees the physical and spiritual as separate, and the physical as an illusory shadow of something much more real. For those women who instinctively understand the utter holiness of what our bodies are capable of, this separation – and diminishment – makes no sense.” –Hilary Hart in the “Body of Wisdom”.

For female bodies, "God" lies internally and within their very form. The female body can become a vessel for something holy and sacred, and so the search for God is projected internally. For male bodies, God lies "beyond" and doesn’t materialize within the structures of the body. As their form is not a vessel for creation in the same way the female one is, the search for God is projected externally. This could explain the creation of temples, churches, religion as a whole, and adoration for religious / spiritual figures.

In general though, God is said to reside in the body through the Shukra Dhatu. Our bodies are composed of 7 layers, known as the 7 Dhatus in Ayurveda. Each Dhatu is developed or transformed out of the previous one so that the final Dhatu contains the essence of all the previous 6.

© Dr. Vasant Lad

The final Dhatu is said to be the most significant out of the 7 as it can be felt throughout our bodies and minds and contains the “essence” (Jing in Chinese medicine) of one’s entire being. The 7th Dhatu is the Shukra Dhatu. The Shukra Dhatu is the reproductive tissue and the embodiment of creation, or God. In female bodies, Shukra manifests as the ova and menstrual blood. In male bodies, Shukra manifests as semen. Semen is thus the most precious bodily fluid in the male body and the foundation of their entire physical and spiritual being. The ancient Chinese also believed that semen contained the ‘essence’ of the male body and was thus revered as a sacred life-source (quite literally). For this reason, sex had the power to drain the body of its vitality. The male body in particular is considered the "victim" (or giver) of this exchange while the female one the "predator" (the taker). 

Jing (meaning essence or vitality) is found in semen but not stored directly in it. Jing is actually stored in the Kidneys, which are responsible for sexual maturity, reproduction, and the growth of the body. Excessive loss of Jing impacts physical, psychical, and spiritual maturation. The Kidneys are also responsible for the “Fire of the gate of Life” (Ming Men). In this sense, one’s essence is inextricably linked to one’s internal fire, life-force, and vitality as all fall under the domain of one organ. 

“Since ancient times in China excessive sexual activity has been considered a cause of disease because it tends to deplete the Kidney-Essence…Excessive sexual activity is more often a cause of disease in men than in women.” – Giovanni Maciocia in “The Foundations of Chinese Medicine.”

Kidney health is specifically important to spiritual life as they are the "root of life" and the foundation of Yin and Yang in the entire body. Also, the Essence literally fills the spinal cord and brain and provides the nervous system with enough strength to sustain transcendental experiences during or outside of meditation.

“Ejaculation is a more direct loss of Kidney-Essence than orgasm is for women as obviously there is no loss of menstrual blood or ova during orgasm in women.”

To preserve one's Shukra (and so Jing) means to detach from the pleasures of the body and the earth, which the female body is an embodiment of. This detachment is rigidly practiced by practitioners of brahmacārya, yogis, and priests, who are almost always male and known for being celibate.

Richey Edwards & Nicky Wire portrait by Kevin Cummins, 1991

“This practice is primarily recommended for men, because a woman’s body will experience a monthly downward flow of energy connected to her menstrual cycle. This cycle must be highly honoured. For a woman, the practices of a naisthika brahmacārya would contradict her body’s natural flow of energy.” -Dr. Shankaranarayana Jois in “The Sacred Tradition of Yoga.”

In the female body, Shukra is released monthly as a purification ritual. Unlike male bodies which blossom when they conserve their Shukra Dhatu, female ones naturally give up their Shukra as it craves its release. For this reason, spiritual practices are said to be different for men and for women, or for male bodies and female ones.

For men, mastery and immense control over the body are encouraged if they wish to transcend it. Control over the senses is important because the Shukra Dhatu has the power to anchor men to the physical world through the desire it generates in the body. Male bodies that are easily ‘seduced’ into offering their Shukra Dhatu lack inner stability. Male promiscuity is actually not ‘masculine’ and reveals a lack of discipline, control, spiritual maturity, and of Yang. We see this more commonly or stereotypically unfold with promiscuous and heterosexual cis men who are unconsciously under the control of the people they are so attracted to. However, they often believe the opposite is true. They lack sexual discipline and indiscriminately give their “essence” to the people they have sex with.

The female body is naturally receptive to this and can benefit significantly from this exchange.

“Prostaglandins are found in the semen of a wide range of animals from insects to mammals, suggesting that for a wide range of females, having lots of sex with multiple partners is actually good for them. It could explain why the females of those promiscuous species have an increased lifetime fecundity compared to those that don’t.” –Lucy Cooke in ‘Bitch: A Revolutionary Guide to Sex, Evolution and the Female Animal.’

These physical benefits extend to the psychical and energetic bodies so that the receiver becomes energized, revitalized, and stronger as they have consumed the male's vitality and life-force. Partners inevitably reap the physical, psychical, and spiritual blessings or curses of the other during sex and vice versa. Celibacy is encouraged (at times for a non-renunciate) to either avoid welcoming another’s unhealthy Shukra or rotten essence into the body or to persevere one's own and nourish it.

With queer men, the energetic and physical exchange is different and perhaps more balanced in the sense that both parties ‘lose’ and give up their Shukra Dhatu to receive each other’s. With queer women, the energetic and physical exchange is inevitably different as well. Sapphic women don’t take in each other’s or a male’s Shukra Dhatu. They are purified through monthly bleeding (both of their own and their partner). They are considered ‘energetic virgins’ and deeply sacred. For instance, in ancient Incan civilizations, the king's future wife was selected from a group of women who lived in a sacred temple. These girls/women had only come in contact with other women (sexually too) and so were fit to be with the king because of their purity, meaning they had never consumed another person's Jing.

For male bodies, the careless wastage of the Shukra Dhatu leads to more weakness in soul, body, and psyche. On a physical level, this manifests as the loss of critical bioactive compounds found in sperm.

“Each ejaculate contains millions of sperm along with a cocktail of critical bioactive compounds, the inevitable expense of which racks up the overall biological bill such that in mammals, for sure, we now know that the combined energetics of a single ejaculate is in fact greater than that of an egg. As such, semen production is generally limited and ‘sperm depletion’ a genuine concern, with most males needing time to replenish their stocks after a big spend. In humans, for example, complete recovery can take as long as 156 days.” –Lucy Cooke in ‘Bitch: A Revolutionary Guide to Sex, Evolution and the Female Animal.’

Richey Edwards & Nicky Wire portrait by Kevin Cummins, 1991

On a psychical level, the wastage of Shukra manifests as a loss of confidence, impotence, an inferiority complex, and a higher receptivity to others. That is, the wastage of the Shukra Dhatu creates weakness in the Anamaya Kosha (physical body), the Pranamaya Kosha (energetic body), and Manomayakosha (the mental and emotional body). The Koshas are the subtle bodies and the Shukra Dhatu provides core strength to the first Kosha, the Anamaya Kosha, which is the base for the rest of them. Chinese medicine explains this in terms of the water element in the body (manifested as Kidneys) which provides the foundation for the other elements (and organs).

Male bodies that honour, preserve, and nurture their Shukra Dhatu are said to glow and radiate immense light as they have preserved their “essence” and know when to offer it and to whom. Shukra actually means clearness, light, and purity in Sanskrit, while the right Chinese character for Jing (靖) means clear or refined.

Venus, who is the celestial embodiment of Shukra, is exalted in Pisces. Within the realm of Pisces, Venus is exalted in Revati nakshatra whose deity is Pūsan which means to nourish and increase. In this way, to be beautiful means to be deeply nourished. One who nourishes their Shukra is extremely attractive to others as they unconsciously crave to absorb this light or fire and be nourished too. 

Aside from beauty, nourishment can also lead to transcendence as mentioned earlier. The body and the mind, both of which highly influence each other, need to be pure and clear in order for their inhabitants to leave them. Pisces, the 12th house, and Revati are the final “states” of their respective systems and will always come to represent transcendence, the end of the material experience, death of the body, illumination, the ultimate escape, etc. Perhaps less intuitively, the 12th house also represents the cycles of Saṃsāra and the transportation of the spirit into a different body, a different mind, a different 1st house, and into yet another incarnation. Thus, Venus (sensorial pleasure) can tie men to the material world as well as free them from it. This is just as true for the Shukra Dhatu. Just as Shukra gives us life on a literal and spiritual sense, its destruction can also lead to death and further “entrapment”. 

“He believes in a beauty he's Venus as a boy he believes in a beauty and gentle.” –Björk 

#Vedic astrology #shukra #shukra dhatu #ayurveda #tropical astrology #astrology thoughts #astrology observations #venus #masculinity #divine masculinity

[officialyourdailyinspiration]

This man, Jonathan Cahn, teaches from the Zohar and endorses the Talmud, which teaches that Jesus Christ is boiling in excrement. Johnathan Cahn is a fraud, a Kabbalist teaching Jewish Mysticism under the guise of Christianity.

The Zohar teaches that the Holy Spirit is a woman (Shekhinah). Jonathan Cahn teaches from the Zohar, and he teaches that Shekhinah is the glory of God. Jonathan Cahn defends the Zohar, and he defends the Talmud and falsely claims that the Talmud is not Kabbalah. Jonathan Cahn said he has never even "read" the Kabbalah. He is being deceptive because Kabbalah is oral tradition. There is no Kabbalah "book" to read. The Talmud is Kabbalah and he reads and defends it. Everything he teaches is from Zohar, the Talmud and mystic Rabbis... he simply repeats them while using the name of Christ. He is a false teacher and a FRAUD!

The Talmud talking about Jesus burning in excrement.

❝What is your punishment? They replied: with boiling hot excrement, since a Master has said: whoever mocks at the words of the Sages is punished with boiling hot excrement.❞

The above passage in the Talmud is telling us that Jesus is burning in boiling excrement (feces). And this is the same Talmud that Jonathan Cahn defends. In the Talmud, Jesus is called Balaam... another punishment they applied to Jesus is "cooking him in boiling semen". You're ok with a "christian" defending that? - Analese Atkins

[birdmenmanga]

spent some time reading manga today, using the random button on mangadex as per the usual.

[Will These Words Reach You] first off was this cute yuri story about a woman who had quit her job and taken a vacation where she met another woman studying abroad and they get close despite the fact both of them can only use broken english to communicate (their first languages are japanese and spanish). very cute and sweet but is labeled as "doujin" for some reason even though it works very well as a stand-alone story and I can't find what it's a doujin of. It's a good light-hearted read (below left)

[Suuji de Sukuu! Jyakushou Kokka] then we had an isekai story about an aspiring mathematician becoming the princess's war consultant, which you would THINK is a strong premise; however the main girl's boobs are so fucking annoying and distracting that it was actively making my reading experience worse despite a reasonably strong plot. It's so clear that the author doesn't believe in the power of his subject matter or his writing or whatever that the panel compositions keep focusing on boobs. boobs. boobs. annoying as hell man why can't you just stay in your lane and talk about game theory. fuck off. I haven't watched no game no life in ages but I think the plot of this is more solid and the mathematics more coherent but the boobs just piss me off so bad. and I LIKE boobs too. that's how you know you've really flubbed it. still on the fence as to whether I'd recommend it. (above right)

[Zettai Unmei Houteishiki] we also had some old-looking yaoi (off the top of my head the artstyle looked maybe... late 90s or early 2000s? [note: checked it and it came out 2004. nailed the artstyle dating]) that was about 1 volume long; unmemorable, melodramatic, and overall not great. god what eve was the plot... okay son of a yakuza family who is high-school aged fell in love with this photographer guy years ago but the rest of his family (2 older siblings, also both guys) chased the photographer guy off behind his back and he's feeling wet and pathetic about this. not great. don't recommend.

[Café Kichijoji de] there was also a slice-of-life comedy about 5 guys working at a cafe. to me it just felt like a deeply underbaked version of hana-kimi's humor, and some of it was pretty mean-spirited too, like one of the guys being sad that only the "ugly" (masc and butch) girls wanted to text him. also do not recommend. (above right)

[Yaoguai Mingdan] and lastly there's a fantasy story about some college student who is suddenly surrounded by a lot of dangerous demons fighting over him. Seems like classic harem fare but it doesn't really bother me that much. Obviously also using sex as a bait to get people to read it, like suuji de sukuu up there but this at least is very forthcoming about "I need your semen and I am going to fuck you right now" instead of continually taking boob shots that are not remotely relevant to the plot at all. god, I'm just so mad at what they did to suuji de sukuu. as a person I'm just straight up more interested in statistics than I am about daoist demon mythology but maybe it's because of that I can appreciate yaoguai mingdan in a way I can't with suuji de sukuu like I'm not gonna be upset at the depictions in yaoguai mingdan because I don't know shit you know. also I grabbed the cover picture on mangadex but holy shit the artist's art gets way better lmao

I dunno. suuji de sukuu just felt more misogynistic as a story (which could have been fixed entirely if the main character had been a girl by the way), and while the author claims they love math it just comes off as insincere. like if you REALLY believe math is genuinely cool and is worth studying you wouldn't resort to low concepts like boob fanservice. read suugaku golden instead. yaoguai mingdan committed to the bit about sex hard and that's what I like about it. yeah!! the dryad is harvesting energy to get revenge on humans!! sure sure I can buy that. the bit about the love hotel the main character keeps getting dragged into against his will getting blown up time after time with the bill for repairs getting shoved on him because all the other supernatural parties are too busy duking it out in a secondary location? that's funny! that's really funny!! like it knows it's "low art" and accepts it and embraces it and there's something true and beautiful about that in the same way chainsaw man is. also the scanlation groups who have been working on yaoguai mingdan have been going THROUGH it I think I'm not even 70 chapters in and the scans have changed hands multiple times LMAO

#just thinking thoughts... #will these words reach you #suuji de sukuu! jyakushou kokka #zettai unmei houteishiki #cafe kichijoji de #yaoguai mingdan #suugaku golden

[transgressiveprocess]

The Prophesy...

Oh come all yeah faithful for I have seen the truth the glory and the light, the foul filth of a world in decay, the weeping underbelly bursting forth with the spawn of insects and deviants, cross-bred heathens taking God’s name in vain, injecting passages of The Good Book into Holy arms, getting high not on His Light but on the threat of Eternal Damnation yes those who revel in DARKNESS will devour the LIGHT, so take your children and hold them close for they are coming for you coming for your wives and daughters your children even your beloved household pets, there is nothing they will not DEFILE in their INSATIABLE thirst of instant gratification, they will spill your blood and drink your tears revelling in the spilt crimson bestowed upon you by God, as they rape your loved ones and each other, sodomising the very notion of family for YES! I have have been given REVELATION…

The Lord has come to me every night with visions of a future corrupted, soiled, where flagrant deviants run amok in a decaying city controlled by sexual predators who will defile your children’s genitals for SPORT, making a mockery of God’s PERFECT PLAN, and yes when I say every night I mean EVERY NIGHT, night after night after night of REVELATION, visions planted deep inside my consciousness so deep that I can never escape and YES at first I thought they were a CURSE, a punishment for my wicked sins but now I realise they are not lusts and desires and cravings but visions of the future and that I yes I have been sent as God’s messenger to warn you of these things, that I have seen of these things that I experience every night in all their terrible terrible splendour, as if I was there, as if I was doing these things, revelling in them, enjoying them, gaining sexual gratification from the foulest most despicable acts on earth, and when I woke up drenched in sweat and shame, semen slinging to the bedsheets I felt as if I was going mad as if these were things I ACTUALLY DESIRED! But now I know that they were given to me as a warning so that I may SPREAD THE HOLY WORD OF GOD TO ALL THOSE WHO WISH TO BE SAVED YES I ALONE HAVE BEEN GIVEN THE KEYS TO SALVATION…

And that is why my people, we must not atone for our sins, why we must not turn the other cheek, but why we must fight with every fibre of our being to destroy those who oppose His great plan yes we must FIGHT FIRE WITH FIRE and strike down those who do not embrace GOD’S LOVE for hate of evil is the purest form of love and as I look out today at all you good people fathers and wives, providers and mothers, children born free of sin into a world that does nothing but corrupt, sweet innocent cherubs that are the incarnation of God’s love, I see a family a family ready to fight for god and love and tradition and what is right HALLELUJAH!

I see an army ready to become the SOLDIERS OF GOD in this holiest of fights against the forces of evil against spirits unclean covered in sin, souls drenched in filth and worn with pride, the colours of those who oppose The Lord, and yet even here I see amongst us sinners and blasphemers, liars and thieves, murderers and rapists, those who would lie down with another and spread their seed in furrows which are barren, I see perverts and paedophiles, sodomites and sodomite sympathisers, I SEE IN ALL YOUR HEARTS AND KNOW YOU ARE IMPURE, that even now amongst the holiest of us, there are THOSE WHO NEED TO BE CLEANSED!

But worry not my faithful for you know who you are and THE LORD knows who you are, now look into your hearts, beyond the sin and the corruption, past the filth and the lies and find out how much HE LOVES YOU, think about that as the collection plate passes you by, give what you can and worry not for the future for THE LORD WILL PROVIDE to those who TRULY BELIEVE and GIVE THEMSELVES OVER TO HIM…

Give not with greed or guilt our out of judgement of how much the person next to you gave, but remember that HE SEES ALL and HE WILL KNOW how much you have shown your love for Him, how much you have given to The Cause for though He is all-knowing and all-seeing, He does not interfere in the World of Man for MAN IS FREE TO WALK THE PATH TO HEAVEN AS WELL AS TO HELL and though He loves us all, he have given us the choice to accept his Eternal Love or walk into the Fires of Hell and burn for eternity, for that is how much He loves us…

But even now, our world turns into Hell on Earth and devils walk amongst us, as Angels that did not fall but leapt willingly, their talons wrapped around the ankles of the innocent and the naive, those who think Love is Acceptance and that to Love Without Judgement is moral or righteous or sacrosanct, these useful idiots of the devil, of the communists and child mutilators, of the drug addicts and sexually depraved, of all those who OPPOSE HIS DIVINE GLORY…

But fear not my children for with your Love and Support and Tax-Free Religious Donations, we can fight The Devil, fight Satan and his Ignoble Hordes of The Tolerant, so dig deep and continue to give for without your Spiritual and Financial Contributions, the Unholy will prosper and they I tell you will never be done, for never is enough, for the freedom they crave is not freedom for themselves but the freedom to take you, your family, your children, TO TAKE THE PLACE OF THE ALMIGHTY, SHAPING EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU IN THEIR OWN IMAGE, and if you RESIST, they will CRUSH YOU, if you SPEAK OUT, they will SLICE OUT YOUR TONGUES AND USE THEM FOR THEIR OWN SEXUAL GRATIFICATION, for they care not for you or for Him, but only for their right to impose their Agenda, Their Holy Book of Communism and Deviancy and Mutilation upon You and Yours…

Yes sir, they want to strip every home of The Bible and Replace it The Theory of Devolution, to take every item of self-defence you own, every shotgun, every rifle, every pistol, every piece of steel you can use for the God-given right of self-defence, AND REPLACE IT WITH AN ARSENAL OF DILDOS AND VIBRATORS AND COCK RINGS, they want you embrace fornication NOT FOR REPRODUCTION BUT FOR CARNAL PLEASURE AS IT’S OWN END. They don’t want You having children, they want Believers to die out, they don’t want The Word spread across the land, they want to distract you with TV and music and movies, with blowjobs and cunnilingus, of anal sex and gang-bangs, FOR THOSE WHO EXIST FOR THE PLEASURES OF THIS WORLD WILL NOT WORRY OF TORMENT IN THE NEXT…

And you should worry, for the fires of hell burn long and they burn hot, hotter than the sinful desires in your hearts, deeper than the thoughts you try to keep buried, burn longer than those secrets you keep buried in your souls, the sins and the shames and the lustful cravings THAT I HAVE SEEN… I know about them, each and every one, for THE LORD HAS REVEALED THEM TO ME IN ALL THEIR CORPULENT BRUTALITY…

I have seen children on fire as parents weep, held back by riotous hordes, laughing and fucking as the Bonfires of The Innocent burn until flesh is black upon which the flames are extinguished with the foul urine of the mob, piss splashed over innocent faces as they prepare for the feast…

I have felt the sodomite’s fury at his own deviancy, taking me against my will as I, bound and chained to The Lord’s cross, am mocked and whipped, spat upon as cocks are slid into my gaping wound, my abdomen filling with the seed of countless deviants until it cannot be contained and is cut out by a waiting doctor, scalpel in one hand, severed penis in the other, but whether it is mine or not I cannot tell, for suddenly I am awash in a sea of naked bodies, men, women, cocks, tits, assholes, cunts, shared indiscriminately amongst the heaving throng, masturbating and ejaculating over me, as I lay prone, helpless, drowning in a sea of rotting cum…

I have smelt the rotting sex of young women turned to whores, sterilised and pimped out, infected wombs now barren, stripped of their One True Purpose, walking the streets to tempt the married, the devout, flaunting their impure flesh in order to seduce those who are too weak to resist, giving themselves in every way, encouraging deviancy, unprotected and wet, so they may not only infect their homes with shame and deviancy, but to infect their wives also, a wave of infertility turning purposeless mothers into an army of Satan’s Whores…

I have seen the skies fall, ash replacing rain as our pure white skin is permanently stained, the mark of the Damned as the heavens collapse under the sheer weight of man’s impure desires, an insatiable army spreading like plague infecting each and every one of us until the sinners outnumber the righteous and split the Earth apart to allow The Great Satan to rise from the depths of Hell and Reign on Earth for an eternity, an Army of Darkness fuelled by the fuels of the dead they are so desperate to keep buried, The Devil’s Stockpiles for the final fight…

I have seen JESUS RETURN TO EARTH, only to watch hm drown in despair at the sin that has taken over, watched as He too falls from grace, becoming another dope fiend, for even He cannot carry the sins of The New Inhumanity. And lo, as I watch from the cross, He replaces His modest robes for leathers, sandals for knee-high boots, loves and fishes for China-White and oblivion, as he turns the other ass cheek, nails in stigmata replaced with vibrating dildos, as He gives what was not his to take…

And I tell you these things my children for not my own gratification, and as I stand here, my knees are not weak from longing, my body sweats not from an unrelenting lust, but from being so close to the hellfires so that I may pass His message on to you today, for THE LORD HAS SHOWN ME OUR FUTURE, this is what will come to pass IF WE FAIL IN OUR HOLY CRUSADE…

So dig deep ladies and gentlemen, think not of yourselves but of your children, not what they will eat tonight, for the Lord shall provide, but of their futures, their souls, their innocence corrupted if we do not succeed, and do not forget as you donate that the forces of Satan need only their flesh to tempt us into falling, they have the advantage, for we are all born sinners…

But make no mistake, THERE IS A WAR AND WE ARE LOSING SO GIVE NOW OR GIVE THEN, BUT ONE WAY OR ANOTHER YOU WILL GIVE EVERYTHING, SO GIVE TO THE LORD BEFORE SATAN TAKES IT FROM YOU…

Amen…

#writing #cronenberg #transgressive #political satire #lynchian #literature #stream of consciousness

[asarunelson999]

Updates NYC 04/02/16

1. Raahubaat Yasar. The ET's are giving us this information about who is who so that it will be clearly shown that NO ONE could have given us this information about genetic markers, and this race and that race. Natural Nature versus Unnatural Nature. If I say to you, "I want to INSPIRE you", what do you think that means? It means, "I want to put a SPIRIT in you". A spirit (believe it or not) is not Natural Nature. Think of it this way: The Muccas-u are not natural nature, although they are created from nature. A spirit is inside something of natural nature, yet it is not OF natural nature. Spirits cannot cross over salt water (it has something to do with the iodine). Now you have what is called "pure spirit" which would include a "holy spirit" and "unholy spirit" yet they do not want to admit that because they do not know the difference wan a possession is taking place.

2. The Incubi and Succubi are Greys. The IGIGI were assigned to Earth as their watch station and that is what the name means. They violated the first rule and came down to Earth and had sex. Some beings live in the waters, some in the air, some under the Earth, as it says for the Adamites not to make any images of anything under the water, in the heavens or in the Earth in Exodus 20:4.

3. The Greys were given a "Tri-Abode Pass". We are dealing with Grey groups from Rigel, Alnitak, etc. Groups of Greys were about to make hybrid children because they don't feed. That is why they are the succubi and incubi, because they arouse people in their sleep to attract body fluids such as adrenaline, DNA from semen, and ovaries to create hybrids to live here among people as well.

4. The Sans people are the Ptahites of Botswana and you have the Kalahari Bushmen who are of Zimbabwe. These people have ALL the genetic markers of people that you see as traits in the human race. They have the nappy hair of the Negroids, the slanted eyes of the Asians, the 3 marks of the brow of the Aborigines, and the chin of the Indians. The first race was Negroids who have 9 species and seats. The next race is the Aborigines and the Dravidians who have 8, and the Asians who have 7 species, the Cacass-u women who have 6, and the Cacass-u men have 5. There is another sub-species that has 4, yet I will not mention that now. The more the number of spiritual seats, the less spiritual. The lesser number of spiritual seats, the more spiritual.

5. We are now in a "degraded state". So how did we get to this degraded point? Well, during slavery, a new language was created called "Ki-Swahili" which is a combination of Arabic and Bantu used to control the slaves during the slave trade. Many converted from their natural way or natural nature and converted to monotheistic religions such as Islam. Even in their book called the Koran, it says to go back when in doubt. "Going back" as mentioned in Koran 10:94 in the first chapter revealed that was rearranged as chapter 96 known as Al A'laq "The Clot" in 610 A.D. Muhammad was told to read in the name of his Rab "Icra Rabiyka" (Read in the name of your Sustainer), not 'recite' as many mistranslations read. Who is the only person talked about in the Koran? Jesus. Who is the only female mentioned by name, with a chapter named after her? Mary (which is the 19th chapter of the Koran). What did Jesus' disciples call him? Rabboni. Which was left in the Hebrew language, even though the New Testament were translated in the Greek (Ask the Rabbis… they know). It is said, the angel Gabriel came to Muhammad on the 19th night of power to receive this information on the 19th hour out of 24 hours in the day. Also, it ties into the 24,000 year cycle and symbolizes the beginning of the new cycle of 6,000 years.

6. The chapter of the Koran called Al A'sir "The Extraction" speaks about the time when man, of the Enosite is at a loss. This A'sir is referring to NADJAR A'sar (Osiris) who was dismembered by his brother Satakh (Set), and his essence had to be extracted by A'shtet (ISIS) in order to produce the son Harar (Horus) who was actually the "

#FreeDrYork #backtobasics #WhatIsFactology

#Youtube

[hadeschan]

item # K20A02

RARE, the Legendary, and the Thailand’s BEST Pra Upakut Amulet, Pra Upakut  Lor Boran, Nua Thong Pasom, Luang Phor Im Wat Hua Khao. A cast coin amulet with ancient method of casting process, a Pra Upakut in a clam seashell or a conch shell with a lotus leaf as his headgear, and the lotus stem is in a shape of an Unalome Cabalistic writing. Pra Upakut is holding an alms bowl in his left hand, and a ball of rice on his right. In the back of the clam seashell is with a bas-relief of an Interlock Eternity Circle. Made from copper alloy with high content of zinc and gold, made by Luang Phor Im of Wat Hua Khao, Suphan Buri Province between BE 2470 to BE 2480 (CE 1927 to CE 1937).

……………………………………

BEST FOR: Wealth Fetching, being away from poverty & financial problems, endless supply of food filling your hunger, abundance, and prosperity. Pra Upakut helps increase your luck, boost your success, and makes people provide your luck by landing you a good job, getting a promotion, receiving funding for your start-up or being chosen for an opportunity you’ve always wanted. Klawklad Plodpai (it brings safety, and pushes you away from all danger), Metta Maha Niyom (it helps bring loving, caring, and kindness, and compassion from people all around you to you), Kaa Kaai Dee (it helps tempt your customers to buy whatever you are selling, and it helps attract new customers and then keep them coming back. And Ponggan Poot-pee pee-saat Kunsai Mondam Sa-niat jan-rai Sat Meepit (it helps ward off evil spirit, demon, bad ghost, bad omen, bad spell, curse, accursedness, black magic, misfortune, doom, and poisonous animals).

 ……………………………………

Pra Upakut

Pra Upakut is an important figure in Burma, Northern Thailand and Laos. He is a benevolent deity who protects against all evils and physical harm and is an auspicious attractor of wealth.

There are many different legends regarding his origin. According to Sanskrit legend, he was the son of a perfumer and one of the early adherents of the Buddha. Before the Buddha entered nirvana, he asked Pra Upakut to remain alive until becoming Maitreya, the second coming of the Buddha.

Thai Buddhists believe that Upakut is still alive to this day, residing in the middle of the Great Ocean, with a lotus leaf on his head. On the ninth full moon of the year, he roams the streets of Chiang Mai as a monk seeking alms. The first devotee to make an offering will be blessed with good fortune.

Another legend claims that Upakut was the son of Buddha and his mother was a mermaid. He is also known as Pra Bua Khem, whose name means “Needle-Sharp Lotus,” referring to the stem that appears like a point atop the floppy lotus leaf upon his head. According to this version, he was conceived when a mermaid ate some of the Buddha’s semen that came off while he washed his robes in a river.

……………………………………

Lotus leaf

The lotus is regarded as a symbol of purity, faithfulness and spiritual awakening (enlightenment). The lotus emerges from mud and rises above water, it cleanses and purifies. And Lotus becomes a metaphor to teach people that all beings can be able to attain enlightenment.

…………………………………..

Conch shell

The conch shell symbolizes the Dharma, the teachings of Lord Buddha.The sound that’s heard from the conch shell is said to be symbolic of the sacred ‘Om’ sound which is believed to be the very first sound of creation. This is why the conch is blown before any ritual or ceremony since it represents good luck and marks the start of any positive or auspicious work. It is believed that when the conch shell is blown, the environment around it will be purified from all evil and good fortune will enter. In Buddhism, the conch is said to be one of the 8 auspicious symbols (known as the Ashtamangala). It represents the melodious voice of the Buddha. Devotees believe that blowing it can enhance the positive vibrations of the mind such as hope, optimism, willpower, and courage. The conch shell is used for a container to hold holy water during rituals.

…………………………………..

Unalome

Yant U or Yant Unalome, unalome cabalistic writing represents the path to enlightenment in the Buddhist culture. The spirals are meant to symbolize the twists and turns in life, and the straight lines the moment one reaches enlightenment or peace and harmony. The dots at the end of the symbol represent death, or the moment we fade to nothing.

…………………………………..

Interlock Eternity Circle or the endless knot

As the endless knot has no beginning or end, it is believed to symbolize the infinite wisdom and compassion of the Buddha. The endless knot represents the endless movement of time, the eternal continuum of the mind, the interconnectedness of all beings on earth, the samsara – the endless cycle of birth, death and rebirth according to Buddhist beliefs. The endless knot also represents future positivity, good fortune, everlasting positive energy, eternity, and empowerment.

…………………………………..

Luang Phor Im of Wat Hua Khao

Luang Phor Im, the First Abbot of Wat Hua Khao, Suphan Buri Province, living between BE 2406 to BE 2480 (CE 1863 to CE 1937).

Luang Phor Im was born on June 1, BE 2506 in the reign of King Mongkut (King Rama IV) of Bangkok. Luang Phor Im ordained as Buddhist monk around BE 2526 (CE 1983). Luang Phor Im spent his early monkhood on pilgrimage, and later stopped at Hua Khao, Doem Bang Nang Buat District, Suphan Buri Province. Luang Phor Im loved this area and decided to have his own monastery there. The villagers supported the idea of Luang Phor Im and helped Luang Phor Im to build the Wat Hua Khao temple, and Luang Phor Im was the first abbot of Wat Hua Khao. Luang Phor Im was a Saha Thammik (an alliance of the same Buddhist path), and Looksit (disciple) of the Holy Luang Phu Suk of Wat Pak Khlong Makham Thao, and Luang Phor Im was master (teacher) of Luang Phor Mui of Wat Don Rai, Luang Phor Pui of Wat Koh, Luang Phu Kaak of Wat Hua Khao, Luang Phor Song of Wat Sala Din, and Luang Phor Im was highly respected by Luang Phor Parn of Wat Bang Nom Kho  (Wat Bang Nom Kho Pan Uthit)

Luang Phor Im of Wat Hua Khao passed away in BE 2480 (CE 1937) at the age of 74.

…………………………………..

*with Certificate of Authenticity issued by DD-PRA

…………………………………..

DIMENSION: 3.20 cm high / 2.80 cm wide / 1.30 cm thick

…………………………………..

item # K20A02

Price: price upon request, pls PM and/or email us [email protected]

100% GENUINE WITH 365 DAYS FULL REFUND WARRANTY

Item location: Hong Kong, SAR

Ships to: Worldwide

Delivery: Estimated 7 days handling time after receipt of cleared payment. Please allow additional time if international delivery is subject to customs processing.

Shipping: FREE Thailandpost International registered mail. International items may be subject to customs processing and additional charges.

Payments: PayPal / Western Union / MoneyGram /maybank2u.com / DBS iBanking / Wechat Pay / Alipay / INSTAREM / PromptPay International / Remitly

***********************************************

[penhive]

Quotes

Fiction is finding the unusual in everyday walk of life.

Media manufactures manipulated consent.

Sow the seeds of optimism and reap a rich harvest of blessings and fortune.

Love God more than you love yourself.

A nihilist produces nothing.

Truth is the lived presence of meaning.

Irony is a bitter herb to digest.

May the winds of fortune blow in your house.

Destiny is a manifested goal.

Poetry is the heart of colors.

God has opened the presence of meaning through his son Jesus Christ.

Pot dulls the senses.

Every heart desires the manifestation of abundance.

Eternal life in Christ is glorious blessing.

Jesus is God perfected as a man.

All I have is given by the grace of God.

Oh God open the floodgates of heaven and pour out blessings.

God loves the sincere heart.

Resist temptation by the grace of God.

Being is a meaning of presence.

Malice is the venom of the soul.

Reading is to transcend what others have written.

A dream can be symbolic or real.

Don’t be captivated by earthly things.

Don’t forget to live while you are chasing the things of the world.

Ambition is beyond the sky of limit.

Positive affirmations make life meaningful.

Agape, God’s love cannot be measured.

Place your wishes on a footstool of hope.

God is life’s anchor.

Don’t break your promises.

A secular and egalitarian democracy is good for the world.

Eros is beautiful poetry.

The seeds of sin are the semen of adultery.

Words can be counted as things manifested.

Don’t let go of your goal no matter how difficult it is.

The flesh is longing and sinful but the spirit has the power to overcome temptations.

I converse with God through writing.

When I am dead, only my writing remains.

Solomon was a King who enjoyed earthly, spiritual and material blessings of God.

The writer in me has to live with creative meaning.

The winds of fortune need a ship to sail.

All glory to the Trinity, the father, son and the Holy Ghost.

Don’t adulterate the word of God.

Existentialism is a corpse of negation.

The soul cannot be bought with money.

The mind is an enigmatic mystery.

Enrich your heart with good tidings.

The optimist lives life but the pessimist kills life.

The ego is a bloated self.

God wants us to have a good life.

Time heals the wounds of the soul.

Destiny, open your gates and bless me with abundance.

Don’t limit yourself with the dwarf of thoughts.

#Literature #Philosophy #Quotes #Sayings #Apothegms #Maxims #Art #Aesthetics

[deviltoys]

― this is my first time requesting so let's hope i don't fuck this up [lmao].

taking tobio's [who's the pastor's son] virginity and watching him ask for forgiveness for doing something so inappropriate in the church but then you proceed to degrade him. 🙇

— ‘𝘂𝗻𝗵𝗼𝗹𝘆 𝘃𝗼𝘄𝘀.’

tobio kageyama x top!male reader. (wc; ?)

#a/n: stop. this is my favorite request, ever. virginity loss ‘n blasphemy??? hello? too fuckin’ good, been cravin’ a good virgin tobio. thank you fer’ this, it was perfect!

warings. NSFW CONTENT, MINORS DNI, virginity loss, sacrilege, taboo acts, incest, age gap (18-30), pastor!reader, exhibitionism, sex in a church, misusage of the bible, religious speak, little to no prep, dumbification, creampie, degrading, manipulation, corruption, belly bulge, daddy k.

juvenile ministry took up a huge chunk of the church you operated. being the father to tobio kageyama, it was only natural that he was a frequent volunteer for the group of children who'd visit you both to be taught the righteous laws of god.

your boy was so doting with kids, it lay a smile across your lips to see him so devoted as you'd help demonstrate an array of practices to the youth. he was an apprentice of some sort— you two had a closely knit relationship when it came to chruch work.

almost a little too close.

nobody would ever suspect a thing, right? their nurturing pastor and his passionate son; they wouldn't dream of commiting any corrupt acts against the lord they so dearly fawned about.

the children certainly wouldn't know, such mindless followers. that's why during youth hours the two of you would mysteriously ‘disappear’ while everyone else contributed holy related activities to do while father y/n and tobio went to assist the lord.

you had be fighting the urge to take your son aside and tear his tiny body in half right there inside the sacred haven. but poor little tobio was a virgin, nobody would dare attempt to be the one who would strip the priest’s son of his innocence. you and the younger male had only gone as far as sucking on each others lips or caressing one another in sensual ways that would surely be forbidden by the church.

it was unethical practice to do anything under sexual pretense inside the chapel; with your offspring no less. you were already commiting unforgivable acts unbeknownst to your fellow ministers— what was one more? just another sin strewn onto the pile of ones you had been collecting throughout the years.

the line between faith and abandonment finally blurred out when you caught your little kageyama with pants a size to small for his waist. the fabric rode up, perfectly rounding out and drawing scrutiny to his chubby ass. you were well aware of the scandalous gestures he would send your way while he kept his attention on the children. wiggling his ass out every so often was his main form of communicating his intentions.

he was at last ready to make his daddy proud, giving his body to him as though you were christ himself; submitting to you.

all of his coherent brain function was corrupt by you a long time past, the degenerate acts you two would shun from the eye of society had finally caught up to him. he needed the embrace of his dad, his loving, heavenly father that would fill his holes up with the holy spirit.

“tobio, follow me for a second please? i need to speak with you privately for awhile.” a forged grin took reign of your lips, softly signalling for your son as you escorted him through the barren temple halls. after he had finished passing out coloring activities for the group to engross in, he swiftly followed your lead.

“yes father, what is it that-” you barely gave kageyama a warning before slipping your forearms under his thighs, entangling the remainder of his limbs around your lower and upper body. you lifted his smaller from with ease, hot breath tickling the shell of his ear as your tone dropped to a deep whisper.

“are you ready to give your body to our savior, tobio?”

“yes father y/n, yes i am.”

that was all the confirmation you needed to proceed with blessing him. abandoning your clothes at the altar of god, you began to strip the boy attached to your body. steadily yanking down his suit pants, your cock already springing to life as his own came into view.

it was insatiably erect, you forbid your son from even being curious when it came to exploring his hormones. you knew one day keeping him fresh, unexposed to lewd activity would come in handy.

and it did, oh god it did.

his body was sensitive to the touch, you were concerned he was going to cum without you even putting a hand near his bulge. much less before the fun started. it was like caressing a rock, he was so stiff, the tip already dribbling a tiny bit of pre by the time you were able to finish your first stroke to the hilt.

after giving a few more measly flicks to the head of his cock; you guided tobio’s naked body towards the bible you had prepped specifically for this occasion. the oak pulpit stood tall amongst the various rows of seats— at the head of the stand was kageyama; exposed, ass out, and face burried deep inside the open book sprawled out for easy reading.

he could barely squeak out the first few passages as your lube coated fingers spread his cheeks and stretched his virgin hole to a worthy size; able to fit your fat cock.

it burned and ached, the agony of your fingers poking around his walls overthrew any noticable pleasure that may have slipped in unnoticed; it was torture. he thought intimacy was supposed to feel good. he should've listened when you told him it wasn't fun, how it was a crime against god and how he'd be severely punished for doing as such until he was proposed to by the right man.

but you were the right man, at least that's what you would tell him. so why was it so discomforting, so harsh? you weren't purposefully harming him were you? the paranoia was getting to him, it was so overwhelming, the thought of the man he adored so dearly causing him pain. hot, salty tears pricked his eyes, lashes catching any access fluid as they could meanwhile the clear streaks dusted his cheeks with red.

his hole was still barely twitching with anticipation, and would be for awhile; throwing your head back, you painfully fed kageyama’s rim your length. every inch that ventured just as deep as the last forced strained hiccups to seethe from behind his teeth. he was unbearably tight, his guts sucked you in while his walls showed heavy resistance— pushing you in and out of your trembling son.

“fucking hell.. dumb bitch, you’re so tight. ease up, i thought you'd serve me better- maybe i was wrong.”

no no, you were wrong, right? he was great, such an obedient little cocksleeve just for you, all for you. all he ever did was to please you; the man who he chased after for years, claiming he wasn't as nice as he predicted? panick only settle into him more, ruthlessly he began bucking his hips to match your unenthusiastic thrusts. attempting to appease you wasn't an easy feat, but he was so utterly devoted to you that the condition of his vessel meant nothing if it meant you were proud of him.

he attempted to slur out a form of quivering tongue with a few biblical quotes shoved in-between. whatever he was reciting wasn't human, infact you couldn't tell if he was fucked out or just anxious. whatever it was, your words had preformed their purpose; you were far too impatient to fully prepare him for the world of sex. forcing him to mature on the other hand seemed to run it's course— he was the one himself impelling himself onto at the end of the day.

your arms snaked around his tiny waist, hoisting his feet up and off the ground. the entirety of his lower half no longer met with the floor, steamy tears teased eyes while the remainder of his efforts worked into engulfing you whole. the stimulation of being carried off the ground just like that was unimaginable; only to have his pussy pounded mercilessly into the wooden podium.

“ack! ah.. mm. daddy, pl- please i can do better! m’promise, don't hold back- i want to feel every inch of you!” so vulgar, you weren't aware of tobio’s filthy mouth.

angling your hips to perfectly kiss his prostate with every shift in your pace, you plowed repeatedly into the spongy skin until he was no longer babbling on about anything coherent. whatever bible quote he was now listing off was lost within euphoria; his hole was loosening up more and more with each thrust you planted deep inside of his stomach.

he know knew how desperately he craved seeing your cum gush right out of his gaping ass. more than anything in the world.

“hah, what a stupid whore, letting your father fill up your belly like this? no wonder you can't do anything but flatter me.”

“m’not a stupid whore, daddy i promise!”

the way his cunt squelched around you told otherwise, you didn’t let up on the insults; constantly bombarding the male with word after word. his trembling thighs and drool stained expression prompted you to continue the vile humiliation.

“oh-ho yes you are, you're lucky i’m even taking the time to fuck you like this. the lord wouldn't dare touch you, so why should i? you're charity work kageyama, nothing but pity.”

giving his plump rear a deathly tight squeeze, you ramped up the vigor in your movements. aching breaths escape your nose as you send forth more shivers down the length of his spine— as much as he wants to keep you satisfied he can only withstand so much. this is his first time being lost within the rapturous waves of an orgasm. religious words still on the tip of his tongue as your name bounces off the empty church hull.

there's a puddle of semen beneath you at his feet, he's cum far too many times for you to count and he's just now; once again fighting for release. his limp, shaking shaft all swollen as it spurts out the umpteenth load that session.

you swiftly follow behind, using the last bit of strength in your twitching thigh muscles— you sent your hips forward, fully submerging your fat cock down his rectum. he yelps almost violently, but he adores it. the way you use up his spent hole. the amusement in his moans fizzle once he finally comes to his senses, realizing there's no cum sliding down his guts and into his tummy. the expected feeling of warm, sticky fluid staining his intestines was the big prize he was looking forward to.

“don’t you remember, your only use is to please me tobio. and you couldn't even do that, that's why you don't get daddy's cum. understand?” a disappointed glare forms on your face, once he's luckily unable to see.

he implores like you've never heard from anyone before, you've had your fair share of sexual favours under the church’s nose. but the dark haired male in particular was one of a kind, he was begging you for your seed like his life was dependant on whether or not you fufilled his lustful desires. he needed your cum, right there, right now.

even attempting to guide your entirely hard cock right back into his enormous asshole, which you allowed. your composure was iron-willed, you knew you could cum on command if need be. giving into his sinful fantasies, you pistoned yourself balls deep once more— your hands moving his hips for him as he pleaded for the sweet release of your fluids.

“please daddy, m’such a good cum dump! i promise, please just cum inside of me. i need it, i’ll do anything! anything!”

anything indeed, you had just the thing in mind. and you were sure tobio wouldn't refute, how could he? there wasn't any other choice, it was your cum or no cum. simple as that.

#𓉔 — m.list #𓉔 — directory. #𓉔 — works. #c; tobio #kageyama tobio x top male reader #kageyama tobio x male reader #tobio kageyama x top male reader #tobio kageyama x male reader #haiykuu x top male reader #haikyuu x male reader #dark haikyuu #haikyuu smut #tobio kageyama

[definegodliness]

Intermezzo

Cloud nine exists no more. It has been forcefully swept from under my feet, and now, surrounded by anxiously jiving debris, I plummet; deliver my shredded consciousness to all gods, both new and old, into the vacuous eye of delivery's storm and hear naught but silence, as if the raging matter surrounding my flightless corporeality is but a mindless, soulless distraction; destructive, therein. The clean-swept dust bath closes in, and I can see nothing but the red of dire Earth; aridness in a canister of compacted losses, circling nauseatingly if I were to track and follow one speck of its respective alloy until witnessing its total assimilation within the whole.

I mourn every smidgen of incandescence turned tin, fixed into place to keep agreed upon reality in, till it sickens me and I toss the weight of my temporal vessel around mid-flight to ethereally recumbent behold the distant star of life as last a beacon of hope; bright enough to blind me from the shames and pities of the human lament.

I fall. I see.

The star of life shines its mutating radiance boldly, mocking all conscious beings, more temporal, for their quests in keeping the status quo of this exact existence.

"Deliver me from evil!", I beg the star of life.

Solar flares rip and tear at my mortal husk, till exposed is all that which matters at this point in time, and being.

I plummet, still.

“What am I now but the eternally bright light of my undying soul, claiming its birthright of resonance within time's ever rippling, as if a shooting star, or comet, illumining the clearest midnight blue of empty nightly skies; the void, far beyond the edges of space which one might call 'emptiness', and the girth and length of my magnum dong, now drastically elastically flopping within the tension between gravity and air resistance?”

Confusion. Yes, confusion and bedazzlement take a hold of me. Perhaps I should not have opted to deliver my shredded consciousness to ‘all’ gods, new and old, ‘cause what bullshit deity would have the totality of my humanity be a sparkling and pulsating orb of brilliant luster, only to then attach the fleshly variant of two semen packed avocados and a forearm sized zucchini? It is an outrage! Thus, by lack of arms, I shake my wiener upward, brandishing it like an angered fist toward whatever divine creator thought it funny, or agreeable, to reduce a human to a mere materialization of procreation. 

“Who does that?”, I ask, “... why?” 

There is no answer.

Only giggles in the wind.

I fall. I fall, still.

And, well... still. As a matter of fact, it is taking so long I get bored and entertain current existential contemplations: the duality of man; flesh versus soul; instinct versus cognizance; lust versus love, lustful love, and loving lust, and all imaginable shades of nuanced reality that thrive in between; all the while watching that star of life, fading into the distance, until the sheer weight of my ever engorging avocados by universal law of gravity cause me to topple back into an ethereally procumbent position.

Purple lightning rages against the pink German World War II helmet, which feels nice, I gotta say, and I realize I am part of some blitzkrieg beyond my understanding. My rock solid prophet’s staff splits the sea and all the turmoil of pantha rhei skips a beat to unveil the Big Bang’s Birthplace, starfish spread-eagled; so blatantly lascivious its design can only 'be' to mock my innate yearning spiritual transcendence. Ghastly, yet still, I plummet further. Through the entirety of Earth. Further, deeper. Helpless in this what can only be the inescapability of divine purpose. After all, whereto can I otherwise go without letting my deplorable rendition of palpability break the laws of time and space? So much for self-determination.

I crash down.

Down the center of the Milky Way. 

Ever accelerating, caught in the gravitational field of Sagittarius A*. I am. And as I am, I am evidently designed to fill, or plug, this manifestation of lamentable ever expanding emptiness and darkness. As such I make amends with the insignificance of this carnal existence. Hushing my conscience with the fact that I actually have no spine at this given moment, therefore being spineless is more than justifiable, it is logical. 

I give in.

Then, a bright flash of light, as the embodiment of godly origin flicks her fingers last milliseconds before impact and sends the remnants of my drab corporeality down the drain of existential settlement where all past's hapless human chances at godliness tragically consist. She does it casually, to then ask me if this is where I want to shoot for the future, before I can even think to try and push forth in an attempt to reach dead end's greatest depths for the sole sake of hedonism to begin with. I realize, what she offers is a lifetime's gratifying 'all'--, and yet simultaneously that this gratification is relativizable to the point of non-existence as there is no way to puncture the veil of finiteness into the never ending.

Despite the ecstasy of vortex-fall; the vehemence of plummet, my god given pride in heated surging sanguine engorged masculinity falls to dwindle limp in a sad shriveling retreat outside the Virgin Miley's rhythmically pulsating, monkey-fist-grabbing-dick contracting dirty dawn star.

"This is not what life is"; my genuflection.

She smiles, "it isn't."

Then, as if in a dream, the Virgin Miley vaporizes into a million shimmers of sparkling stardust, and I am grounded; crashed through the harsh permafrost, until splicing the rock of another dimension’s version of earth. I examine the shape of the crater left by my plummet, wondering where I am. I ask the aether,  addressing the chaste one, yet she gives no answer.

Only giggles in the wind...

All too familiar.

I understand, now. Yet I cannot dwell on my understanding. Suddenly, circling all around me, a mob of enraged Swiss men and women; complaining the Matterhorn has been decimated by my plummet from death’s plane of ‘settling’. I try to explain to them spiritual evolution is about peaks of existence, as so considered by any remotely achievable esoteric consensus, being utterly shattered; pulverized into fertile grounds of brand new inspiration and realizations, yet they have none of it. They shout and seethe I am an idiot, who should have simply traversed the depths of tightly constricting predestination and be done with it. 

Then, in a last ditch effort to talk some sense into them, I wrap the fleshly part of my current reality like a pink veiny tentacle around the holy triangle, the Toblerone, holding it out to them, letting my spirit’s echoing voice resound:

"He who is without caramel bits, cast the first chocolate."

Alas, they have none of it. Instead, the angry Swiss mob closes in, among them I now see some carry steam wafting bronzen kettles. I am entrapped. No way to wriggle myself out of this, and wriggling is all I can. As punishment, they slather the brightly pulsating core of my eternal spiritual purity (and my throbbing, wildly flopping curd spewing boa constrictor) with the molten golden of drooping fondue cheese. Agonizingly. Thus, the orb of light, my sorry soul, is by time and negligence; ignorance, and society’s cruel demands, yet again encased. Dimmed. Damned to once more partake in this loop of ever reoccurrence. When they leave, I am once again, but man. Another lifetime beckons. 

The whole endeavor has left me ravenous. 

I start eating myself.

--- 7-9-2021, M.A. Tempels ©

#absurdism #creative writing #prose #writers #writing #alt lit #writers on tumblr #chronicles of miley #weird #i don't know how to tag these things

[roachsource]

𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐰/ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐬 :  𝐝𝐫. 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐩. 𝟏𝟒𝟓  mess around with them freely beloveds, and some might’ve been tweaked for rp purposes as always. 💋

❛ whattuppppp. ❜

❛ it sounded like i was being a total bitch. ❜

❛ being a total bitch is the opposite. you were being a total dick. ❜

❛ even when i try to be nice, it sounds like i’m shitty. ❜

❛ same business, different day. ❜

❛ he’s just trying to cum and trying to find people to cum with. ❜

❛ what’s up with this guy? ❜

❛ is it possible for two submissives to be in a relationship? ❜

❛ we need a little bit of ghost talk here. ❜

❛ that soul is very unhappy. ❜

❛ where do you get your opinions on ghost lore? ❜

❛ what makes a ghost happy or unhappy? ❜

❛ where do you get your ghost information? ❜

❛ i appreciate the holy water i was sent. ❜

❛ do the ghosts see you masturbating three times a day? ❜

❛ i just like anybody seeing me masturbate. ❜

❛ if you wanna spy on me, you’re gonna get an eyeful of this. ❜

❛ spirits are nicer than human beings. ❜

❛ we’re assholes on earth, but we’re nice in the afterlife. ❜

❛ can i drink the holy water? ❜

❛ god bless me? is that really what you meant to say? ❜

❛ i don’t sound like such a dick, normally. ❜

❛ i had to come back and straighten it all out. ❜

❛ how can you be a dick if you’re a sub? ❜

❛ this is just being a bitch. ❜

❛ normally when somebody is doing something authoritative and i don’t have to worry about it, i appreciate that. ❜

❛ this is what men are made of, everybody. ❜

❛ men are made of concerns about their junk. ❜

❛ your body’s a perfect instrument. ❜

❛ some nuts hang, some don’t. ❜

❛ men feel weird guilt and shame the moment they ejaculate. ❜

❛ never make an important decision on a full nut. ❜

❛ uh oh, did i really wanna do that? ❜

❛ when i finish masturbating, i sneeze. ❜

❛ you've got to figure out how you can jerk off. ❜

❛ you practice masturbating a lot of times every day... ❜

❛ how is your life these days? ❜

❛ you keep trying to destroy me while i try to build you up every time. ❜

❛ what’s your love life like? ❜

❛ my love life is very rarely a consistent thing. ❜

❛ you said “anyway”, like. “anyway, yes”? or “anyway, no”? ❜

❛ here’s what’s cool about weed: you could get high twice! ❜

❛ should i do that? ❜

❛ that was a nice, quick, unthoughtful response. ❜

❛ my doctor FUCKS. let’s hang out. ❜

❛ it’s easier to get forgiveness than permission. ❜

❛ go do meth so you could run toward cops and get us content! ❜

❛ i will not record you when we get crossfaded. ❜

❛ is it legal here? ❜

❛ as long as you don’t have six pounds of marijuana, then you’re chill! ❜

❛ i might have six pounds of marijuana. ❜

❛ let me know if i’m gross or not. ❜

❛ am i gross or not? ❜

❛ thank you, miss cougar. ❜

❛ GILF city, baby. ❜

❛ GILF? eugh.... ❜

❛ whenever i finish cumming, i just keep on leaking out into my underwear. ❜

❛ wow. that was jarring. ❜

❛ this guy rules! ❜

❛ it’s residual semen... ❜

❛ guys can do kegel exercises too? ❜

❛ kegel champ. ❜

❛ we’ve got to go through this every damn time. ❜

❛ oh, damnit. ❜

❛ let me just tell you something? a lot of people are really hot right now. ❜

❛ you just made a lot of peoples’ nights. did you hear yourself? ❜

❛ what a cool lady. ❜

❛ my bad, i blacked out. ❜

❛ it’s about the willingness to give. ❜

❛ stop calling me daddy! ❜

❛ it’s a good reason to have more relationships in person. ❜

❛ he’s pretty good with those nunchucks. ❜

❛ i remember trying to do something like this and i hit myself on the head AND the balls. ❜

❛ alright. enough. ❜

❛ i don’t want to think of you that way. ❜

#mine. #prompt. #comedy. #podcast. #ask meme #rp ask meme #roleplay ask meme #roleplay meme #meme #rp meme #mental illness memes #x

[lailoken]

The Witches' Supper

“ The figure of the witch in the early modern era was an amalgam of religious typologies including blasphemer, heretic, spiritual malefactor, idolater, consort of fallen angels, and liege of the Devil. In parallel the witch accreted the substance of secular criminality: poisoner, thief, abortionist, grave-robber. These opprobrious brands were impressed on the accused by those whose written records survive, often in the form of legal tractates or penitentials. Yet as command of the printed word spread beyond legal and religious centers, other typologies emerged: healer, folk-charmer, superstitious rustic, impoverished wretch, and others. This procession of witch-guises has continued well into the present day, to include the glamorized images suffused in popular culture: the witch as diabolist caricature, illusion-maker, emanant of sexual allure, and repository of the unexamined ejecta of Christian orthodoxy.

An important and little-examined dimension of the witch-guise is that of the reveler at the Devil's Sabbath banquet. The imagery of this feast appears frequently in woodcuts and is occasionally innocuous, but at other times proffers the image of the witch as necrophage. The assembled coven is alternately portrayed as consuming unbaptized infants or the grisly products of desecrated graves; human bones are also included at the table, as they are in portrayals of the witches' Grand Rite. From the perspective of desecration taboo, the array of grim foodstuffs is no less appalling than the relics held in veneration by the Roman and Eastern Orthodox Churches: teeth, fingers, jawbones, foreskins and skulls, incorruptible corpses and vials of blood which liquefy and coagulate at auspicious moments. Yet, witches too have their saints and ossuaries, their hallowed relations to the Holy Dead. It is the passage from stewardship and veneration of remains to ritual consumption that triggers affront in the common mind, and has also contributed to the fear of witchcraft. Despite its abhorrent qualities, this forbidden lore persists and is known to some modern practitioners of folk magic as The Witches Supper' -a clandestine and disturbing meal which is, in some cases, a cipher for profound spiritual arcana, as well as the lore of poisons.

The process of bodily decomposition was a matter of fascinative obsession and repulsion to our ancient forbears, from both religious and magical perspectives. Upon death, the body naturally undergoes myriad biochemical changes bent toward the singular goal of material retrogression, the descent of the incarnative vessel to the mortified estate of the Profane Adam. Discoloration of tissue, stiffening of the body, abdominal bloating and pooling blood are mere precursors of the great corporeal tumult whose horrific imagery resembles the demonic horrors of the witches' cauldron. Bodily decay produces its own array of chemical poisons, many of which are responsible for the fetor so viscerally offensive to the living nose, but, also serving as inviting beacons to scavengers and detritivores. The fortress of primordial Adamas, once inviolable with God-given dominion over Nature, is rapidly transformed into a food source for a great variety of organisms, this status heralded by the production of corpse-poisons. Many of these putrefaction-derived compounds, in isolation, can be intoxicating or deadly to Homo sapiens"; some of them, in minute amounts, are also associated with pleasure or sexual allure, thereby recalling the ancient connubium between Eros and Thanatos. In some cases the corpse-poison also served a magical function before physical death: the power to cause flesh to rot on a living body, by forced infection and corrupt magical principles, was a known power of Zuñi medicine men and a documented procedure during the slow execution of witches. This odorous stew of nitrogenous cadaver-compounds falls into the ancient toxicological classification of ptomaines, from the Greck ptoma, indicating a corpse or provenance is the graveyard and charnel house, the crypt and plague-pit, and they are united in both science and magic as the vaporous effluent of the necropolis.

Witches and diabolical consorts at the Sabbath-feast.

No less than the natural decomposition of the human body, foodborne illness is also caused by organic decom 'fallen body'. Their position, and has been colloquially referred to today as a kind of poisoning. Corrupted food been a perpetual fact of civilized existence and has required ingenious solutions to forestall the advance of decay. Transmitted by the noisome taint of worms and micro-organisms en masse, putrefaction was a philosophically confounding process both dead and alive; the stench and ugliness generated in contaminated victuals were likewise an offense to reason as well as the senses. Early technologies of food preservation included cooling, drying and salting to arrest decomposition, or, in some cases, to mask the objectionable flavors of rancidification. The ancient arts of meat preservation naturally share a kinship with embalming: the outrage of post-mortem decay was of prime importance to the Old Egyptians, whose methods of providing salvific respite for the corpse may rightly be considered a magico-religious art form. In Christianity, the processes of corporeal decay were assigned to the dominion of the Devil, likely one reason for the folklore that Satan cannot abide the presence of salt. Persons who claimed to have attended the medieval Witches Sabbat remarked on the absence of salt at the feast. Similarly, when salt was brought in, the spectral revelers of midnight's table suddenly vanished, leaving the guest alone. The power of salt for slowing or arresting decay also relates to its magical uses for exorcism, blessing and consecration. The magician's exorcised circle is thus both fortified and mummified, a perfectly-preserved moment in time and space.

Both the corrupted products of Death and the means of slowing or arresting them bear crucial relationships to the Witches' Supper, which in one interpretation (stripped of its heretical elements) can be seen as fostering a ritual intimacy with the deceased. That the witches' delectations should be portrayed in the first instance as necro- cannibalistic is consistent with the position of witchcraft as transgressive, and as operating in spheres roundly condemned by religious and social orthodoxy. The witches' relation to the dead vis-à-vis their atrocious meal is, on the surface, portrayed as a mock Christian communion, or as the vulgar tactic of demonizing enemies by implied cannibalism. On a different level, the Supper operates as a hieroglyph of specific witchcraft power, namely the unique magical relationship between witches and the so called 'Mighty Dead', the retinue of ancestral shades and fountain of pre-incarnate atavism. The art of necromancy, or magically calling forth the shades of the dead, has long been a vibrant strand of witchcraft and magic of many epochs, and in many recensions may be considered its driving engine. Linked with more ancient currents of shamanism, this art was known from the writings of ancient Sumer, Chaldaea, and Greece, the latter providing the prototypal witch-figure and poisoner Circe, the sorceress of Homer's Odyssey.

The materia of the Dead—flesh, blood, and bones—is the mumia of art, known well to witchcraft, alchemy, folk magic, and medicine. The act of its ritual consumption, presented in early modern Witches' Supper depictions as vulgar cannibalism, encodes a number of precise ritual formulae and powers in necromantic magic. The most important of these is the elevation of 'dead matter to a living state by its incorporation into the living body. This is the active principle underlying the Holy Eucharist, wherein, through divine transmutation of elements symbolizing the mumia, Christ's body and blood are come forth from the tomb, and commune with the Body of the Faithful. The potent necromantic implications of the Holy Communion, as a magical act, would have been instantly recognizable to practitioners of folk-sorcery, particularly in contexts where funerary rites maintained close communication with the departing spirit.

Present within the Feast of the Dead is also the Formula of Opposition, a precept which underlies many historical patternings of witchcraft. Named by Andrew D. Chumbley, who wrote about it extensivelys , the Formula is an operant dynamic between the sorcerer and the 'Other', that being the zones of spirit-alienation external to personal experience and containing ungathered seeds of occult numen. In the case of historical folk magic, Formulae of Opposition are often transgressive against law, religious orthodoxy, or social convention, but above all against Self; as exacted they often make use of inversion. In violation of strongly-held personal Tabu, the structure normally governing conception and use of magical power is overturned, resulting in a liberation of consciousness, and the acquisition of previously-forbidden realms of power. At the Feast of the Witches, a culinary encounter with dismembered limbs, organs, and heads serves as an oppositional force on a multitude of levels, from the basic violation of the senses, to affronts against personal and group morality. Whilst the actual consumption of decomposing human flesh by historical practitioners of Sabbatic rites is an open question, it is, perhaps, the wrong question. More relevant is the depictions of the moribund Feast as a symbol of initiatic power gained through the Formula of Opposition.

The Accursed Victual, as a component of the Feast, may also mask the presence of initiatic power, conveyed through mumia. A recurrent component of magical charms is the secretion of semen, menstrual blood, feces, or urine into food as a spell of control over one's victim. This action mimics the spoor secreted by many mammals for the 'marking'or'claiming’of territory and if correctly engaged draws upon a vast astral repository of atavism, and belongs to an ancient stratum of magic reaching into prehistory. Spells employing such secreted matter are transgressive of ancient dietary laws wherein food, and the feast itself, represents a sacrosanct compact between the dining parties. However, when the parties are wholly conscious of the nature of their food, and eat nonetheless as they are shown doing in portrayals of the Witches' Supper- it may be presumed that there are religious or magical reasons for doing so, namely reverence for the deceased, the acquisition of power, or both.

All such approaches to the Feast are essentially necromantic, and as a coercive approach to spirits, it is properly classed as sorcery. It is thus aligned with early modern witchcraft, but ritual communion with the dead using food and drink is also a feature of ancient religion." Roman cults of the dead persisted into the early centuries of Christianity, with night-long memorial feasts in honor of those whose bodies had passed, often in situ at the tombs themselves. Archaeological evidence, as well as the written record, reveals remains of ancient graveside banquets, including drinking and cooking vessels. Church prohibitions on pagan rites honoring the dead occurs in written form as late as the thirteenth century, indicating that such observances were still in practice. Feasts offered in honour of the dead persist into the modern era, even in exemplars largely bereft of religious trappings. Ritual consumption of the dead as part of a socially acceptable funerary practice, is also documented.

The abominable meats, bones, and sundered limbs often pictured at the Witches' Supper may be afforded an additional interpretation with regard to their magical rôle at the Witches Sabbath. In certain inquisitional records, an emergent pattern among some groups, which differed from the usual clerical projections, involved a banquet with archaic features which scholar Wolfgang Behringer has called "The Miracle of the Bones'." This features the restoration of life to a cow or other animal from a disjointed skeleton. The implicit power of this mystery as a magical practice is captured in a section of Robert Fitzgerald's Midnight's Table, a manual of witchcraft lore and spellcraft concerning the arcane power of the witches' banquet:

The Mind void yet the Thought fully formed.

The Body hungry yet the Spirit replenished.

The Wood unfinished yet the Table carved.

The Platter empty yet the Larder full.

Here the desolation of the witches' feast remains, as well as their potentiality as nutritive victuals or even as living beings, is invoked, the suggestion of Voidful Presence through the juxtaposition of emptiness and corporeal flesh. Extrapolated beyond the objects themselves, the table may be seen as the witches'altar or circle, the zeroth vessel of all-potentiality which, like a cornucopia, may contain a multitude of fruits by way of ritual power. This symbolic and emblematic patterning is completely consistent with the atavistic patterning evident in the orally-transmitted magical lore of the Sabbatic Cultus.

The natural transformative processes of rot and decay are crucial strands of the magical currents feeding folk magic and witchcraft. The alchemists of Europe explored putrefactive states thoroughly, borrowing the process from Nature, then emulating, calibrating, and magnifying it under precise fractionations in glass vessels. It is likely that, as with the Royal Art itself, a considerable 'portion of putrefactive magic in Europe was a direct inheritance of Arabic and Islamic magic; such texts as Ġäyat al-Hakim and Kitab al-Sumum employ numerous members of dead animals, some ritually killed, for cursing, poison, and magical power. These usages also occur in the later corpus of European grimoire formulae. However, the powers of putrefaction and decomposition had a far more ancient pedigree, one of which is of specific interest to the Sabbath banquet. Correctly harnessed, they give rise to both of the primary mysteries of the witch sacrament: the Bread and Wine.

In the Bread and Wine of the Witches Supper, some have seen the historical outlines of the ritual consumption of psychoactive substances at the Sabbath, specifically conveyed through food and drink, and indeed this interpretation is present in some modern-day witchcrafi practices. Historical references are uncommon, but suggestive. The Inquisitor Pierre DeLancre reported that the bread of the Basque witches' was black and revolting, its flour ground from black millet, and served with 'false meats'. Aside from its resemblance to cadaverous flesh, the "black bread' is of potential toxicological interest. In centuries past, white flour was a privilege of the wealthy, and poorer classes resorted to eating so-called 'black breads', made of rye and barley, and which also contained diverse adulterants from the harvest. Piero Camporesi in his Bread of Dreams has speculated that psychoactive contaminants of grain such as darnel (Lolium temulentum) and ergot (Claviceps purpurea) were so common in the flours of some regions and eras that the average peasant was in a constant state of intoxicatio as a consequence of poor diet. If true, the evidence cited suggests that the psychoactivity of such breads was an accidental by-product of a fouled food supply, but if the phenomenon was understood by herbalists and magical practitioners, there would be little to stop the cunning from crafting experimental loaves. Indeed, as with the Thelemic Cakes of Light', the Sabbath Bread has its own secret formulations.

The Nocturnal Assembly gathering corpses for the Witches’ Supper. Compendium Maleficarum, 1608.

The old term "Crow's Bread" originates in the founding lineages of the witchcraft order Cultus Sabbati, and originally referred to the intoxicating mushroom Psilocybe semilanceata as a gift of the spirits for visionary ritual use. In the late 20th century, the term was applied within the group for broader use to refer to any psychoactive ritual substance gathered from Nature, but its nature as 'Bread is linked both with the Communion Host of Christ and the male generative power linked with the 'Lord of Light’, in some cases identified with Lucifer. In this latter association, the Bread's power as Revelator is especially notable. Covines and lodges of the Cultus have long made use of venefic gnosis in various forms; its oldest known recensions, dating from the second half of the nineteenth century, contain obscure charms against poison, as well as certain ritual transmissions of power using a prepared psychoactive sacrament. Oral teachings long pre-dating the Great War concern another poisonous species of note in Britain: Belladonna. There are also adjunctive practices concerning a multitude of other plants of power, specifically their Eucharistic power. My contacts with other Traditional Witchcraft groups outside of the Cultus have, on occasion, affirmed the presence of such sacraments elsewhere, some of which have themselves passed into a largely symbolic or chemically inert form.

Within the Sabbatic Cultus, the Bread of the Sabbath Feast operates upon many magical levels, its essence is intimately tied to British agricultural cycle, the God of Harvest, Corn and Sheaf, sometimes manifest in the mythical divinity of John Barleycorn. The germ of this myth encloses the great mystery of ritual murder and resurrection embodied in the Holy Loaf, and the resulting sustenance of the kingdom. This quintessentially English expression of the Bread is thus seminal, nutritive, life- giving, and radiant, but also embracing the mysterium of Death and a patterning of seasonal time and tide. Here Barleycorn is sometimes identified as the Witch-Father Mahazhael. He is thus often depicted as a skeletal god with an erect phallus, bearing a scythe, sickle, and stalk of grain; his mystery is well encapsulated in his invocation from Chumbley's The Dragon-Book of Essex:

On the first day I awoke within the furrow.

On the second day I knelt in prayer 'neath the sun.

On the third day I stood in the long green robe.

On the fourth day my head was crowned with gold. 

On the fifth day the sickle laid me to rest.

On the sixth day my body was ground between stone.

On the seventh day I was raised anew

to feed the brethren at Midnight's table-

to serve at the Round Feast for both the Living and the Dead.

In addition to the process of ritual murder which births the Bread, the putrefactive processes used for its fermentation, via yeast or bacteria, are also reckoned as a part of the Corn-God's dominion. As a natural agent of corruption, yeasts are widespread and penetrate countless strata of the world, often contaminating foodstuffs, as well as the human organism. Even where fermentation conditions are controlled, the process of making bread and wine relies on the mass death of these microorganisms. This catastrophic loss of life, on the order of hundreds of millions of individuals per loaf, nonetheless provides a delectable crumb serving as both an holy sacrament and the common man's ‘Staff of Life'. A further relation between bread and the grave is its frequent off-white colour, recalling bone, and the hardness it attains when stale, sometimes petrifying, as a skeleton, over the course of centuries; and amongst some witchcraft practitioners, the churchly Communion Wafer is sometimes addressed within the circle simply as 'The Corpse' or ‘The Skeleton'.

The magical corollary to the Witches' Bread is the Vinum Sabbati, or Winecup of Midnight's Table. Its alignment is with the Moon and the Lunar emanation, the feminine principle, and the many humours of the body, primarily blood, but also the female sexual secretions, both gross and subtle. In witchcraft contexts, as well as other secret societies and magical orders, the Wine is of legendary status and a great deal of lore and doctrines have emerged concerning its generation and use. To some it is a cup producing fantastic visions, to others, an initiatic ordeal which serves as the most harrowing trial for the drinker. Certain teachings, through its association with both the Living Cup and its Wine as a single entity, have two essential natures which in combination, magically unify to create a Blessed Third, an apotheosis of both. Within the Cultus Sabbati, the 'Graal of Midnight' has precise formulations to empower and support the various pathways of Sabbatic Congressus: Thanatomantic, Atavistic, Sexual, and many others. By a metaphoric pathway, the Wine of the Sabbath is not only a fluidic medium, fermented and distilled within the Flesh of the Initiate, but also the entire process of corporeal transmutation during its imbibition at the High Sabbat.

As an actual drink conveying ritual power, a medieval prototype of the Wine of the Sabbath is to be found in Johannes Nider's Formicarius (1435), which alleged the witches of the Simmenthal region of Switzerland were initiated using a potion brewed from the ashes of infants. More important than the composition of the brew was its alleged effect: the beguiling draught conferred upon the initiate an instant knowledge of the Art Magical. Though described prior to the advent of the Sabbath as a major component of witchcraft, it is the ritual cup and its function as a bestower of witch-power which links it to the Witches' Supper.

The bridge between wine and the incorporeal host is also relevant to the nature of the witches' cup. Historically, the grape was considered divine not only by mankind but also by spirits of the Dead. In ancient Greece, the Vine-shoot was regarded as possessing strong properties of purification; wine was often poured there as a libation for the dead, as well as to chthonic deities. This custom of offering alcohol to the deceased resisted the strongest attempts at eradication; Theodoret, Bishop of Cyrrhus (427-449) reports with outrage pagans bringing wine to the deceased in evening rites. Cæsarius relays a legend in which two servants at the monastery of Laach, charged to guard the vineyard by night, bribed the devil to do their work with a cophinum full of grapes, a deal which was apparently kept. Amongst the nocturnal activities later alleged of the Vaudois witches was the invasion of wine cellars, led there in a troupe by the Devil. "Under lead of the demon they enter cellars and drink wine, all of them first urinating in the cask from which it is drawn." The threefold linkage of wine to the Dead, witches and the Devil draw additional lines of arcane association with the Sabbatic Grail, both as a form of communion with the Dead and with the Black Man of the Sabbath, the God of the Lamiae.

The presence of Wine in historical English witchcraft and folk magic may indeed arise from its aspect as mock-sacrament, theʻpolluted bloodof Christ which featured in invertive and blasphemous sorceries. However, wine was present in England before the advent of Christianity; introduced by the Romans, there is evidence for viticulture among the Anglo-Saxons; one conservative estimate identifies at least 139 definite or possible vineyards in medieval Britain. Though climatological trends in past centuries have fluctuated, and viticulture has prospered or suffered accordingly, the Genius of the Vine has been present in England for millennia. This is certainly sửfficient time for a body of lore and rites to have accreted around the Grape and its divine expressions, drawing from numerous magico-religious currents, as well as the inevitable corpus of agrarian lore which accompanies so important and venerated a crop. This is to say nothing of England's great tradition of hedge wines, a testament both to the ingenuity of her vintners and the botanical diversity of her lands.

The Cup of Wine which features so prominently at the Feast of the Witches may be understood as the mechanism of sorcerous transmutation of the body, not only its vehicle, but its symbol, process, teaching, and legacy. This symbol in activated form unfolds, as an opening rose, the entire ecstatic algorithm of the Sabbat. Within the rites of Sabbatic Witchcraft, the Wine of the Devil's Graal appears in radiance at the confluence of sorcerous enchantment and spirit-veneration. Where the covenant of adepts is of sufficiently focused will, desire, and belief and of sincere devotion", the Cup is vinted, filled, mixed, and drunk. The motto ‘Ipse venena bibas’ or 'drink thou thine own poison' encodes the truth that the Grail of the Witch is both the cup from which it is drunk, and the initiate into whom the wine passes. The alpha-numeric essence of this matter is eloquently contained within the number 710, which corresponds both to the grail-poison (tar`elah) and the Sabbath itself.

The active magical nature of the Witching Graal, and its function as the intermediary in rites of 'Communion' naturally evokes the Body of the Goddess as the portal of mystery. In the Sabbatic traditions of witchcraft, the shade-mother Lilith or Liliya Devala is identified with the witches' cup in both its exalted and desecrated forms, aligned with sex-magical moduli of Void-mind (the empty cup) and the conjured circle of spirits (the full cup). Other permutations occur, especially those co-identified with the body of the Priestess or ritual adjuditrices. Each wine vinted within these cups is as much a product of the Vessel as the Vine.

Kenneth Grant has linked the Sabbatic Wine to the blood of Charis, wife of the smith-god Haephestos, and also known as the threefold goddess Charites, or the Graces. Expanding upon the writings of Massey, which quote the ancient writings of the Gnostic Marcus, Grant links the Vinum Sabbati with the blood of Charis, the 'original Eucharist'of the early Gnostic Christians. The vintage is the central component of the ancient magico-sexual rites of trance mediumship wherein the goddess spoke through a chosen medium. This bears certain similarities with kindred operations in the Order of Eastern Templars, as well as those of at least one Traditional Witchcraft lineage informing the Cultus Sabbati. Likewise, a cup-blessing used for the Wine connects its use to the forgotten intimacy of Samael and First Woman:

Bright Host of Saint Hawa, draw nigh unto this, my Cup.

Before mine eyes, the Well of Abomination,

Betwixt thy thighs, the Red Stream of Eternal Fire.

Behold thou the Good Companie assembled

To feast upon the grave-wandering corpse,

Draught of Manbane, and dew of the Forest grail,

The blood-fouling thorn, the Fang and Toad-froth,

Yea, All Delights of Resurrection's Vineyard:

O, Mercy of the Spirit I pray!

Here 'Communion' also relates in mystery both to the Witches' Agapae or love-feast as well as the coition of spirit transpiring within the circle of the High Sabbat itself. This resonates with the witches' Fortunum or Cup of Good Fortune, a specific preparation of male and female sexual secretions, ritually expressed in the correct lunar phase, and empowered through conjuration of precise spirit- presences. Withing these covines are preserved teachings concerning 'the vinting and pouring’ of the Agapae-wine, as well as its function at the Feast. It is impossible to pinpoint with certainty the origin of the oldest of these witch-rites, though their resemblance to some practices of South Asian Tantra is striking. This may be an occult adaptation of Tantric practice, as perpetuated through such magical orders as the Ordo Templi Orientis, with which some covines have had contact. However, the oldest witch- praxes of this type pre-date the Oriental Templars' contact with Tantra, and in fact retain elements marking their origin as specifically English and Northern European. Additionally, their foci incorporate atavistic formulae, placing them squarely within the precincts of an ancestral cult, as well as incorporating elements which would to many occult lodges, be considered "low magic".

Despite the linkage of these sexual witchcraft formulae with the Dead, their strata of magical expression very much concern the living, the present body of initiates, woven into the perpetuity of magical time. In addition to the powers of manifestation their perfected exaction radiates, they are capable of simultaneous intoxication, empowerment and nourishment -the great 'Transmutation of the Body' in which one becomes magic entire. Its linkage with the ghastly imagery of the demonologist lies in its formulation from the Corpus Humanis. Under correct conditions, the two give rise, like the antediluvian pillars, to the Great Temple of the New Flesh.

Returning to the concept of Crow's Bread, within the Sabbatic Cultus, the Liberty Cap mushroom (Psilocybe semilanceata), when encountered growing in the wild, is regarded as an omen of ancestral favor. A prime concentrator of atavistic force, it is a gateway to the dominion of Faerie and a guardian of the Way. It is never hunted, but when encountered must be acknowledged by certain ritual customs and sacrifices.

Importantly, it eschews dung, unlike other visionary mushrooms of its genus, and thus in mystical terms is separated from Abel, the unrefined or 'profane' nature of flesh prefiguring the sorcerer Cain. Proceeding as it does from the soil and thus the subterranean vaults of the Mighty Dead, its fruiting body is the brief apotheosis of those fallen and yet come again: the ephemeral Risen Phallus of the Spirit-Meadow. The mushroom thus subsumes three important mysteries of the Witches' Supper in one body: the Corpse, the Phallus, and the Visionary Sacrament. From a devotional entry in Hypnotikon:

Amongst the true-born of its flesh, it is known as ‘The Watcher on the Moor' and this is precisely where I was introduced to this Friend. It speaks of many things: great spectral mists uncurling before the moon; of time and the procession of bodies upon bodies; of hedge-haunting devils; of the deeds of the Saints' bones, resonant and deep in the earth; of the Immovable Stone and its wisdsom; of symmetries and arrangements of things - trees, plants, beasts; of holy books writ in ossuary dust; of the delectations and radiances of the flesh; of the Round Dance and the Fallen Star; of the Sovereign and Horn'd Head detached from the body, ruling over the Land; of the telescoping of the soul into indescribable abysses. When it has spoken its final word, and revealed its last vision, what then remains? The accumulated counsel of every incarnation as I'.

In the abyssal heart of ancestral shadow, the 'Bread' of Midnight's Table is served both for the Living and Dead. For those who sup in flesh, and walk in the world of men, it is a sacred loaf broken for remembrance: to honor the Dead with sensation and savor, and to call forth into the body, through the rite of necrodeipnon, what has gone before. For them who abide in shade, the Bread is the Lantern of the World, shone as a beacon for return to the flesh, if ever briefly. Through the medium of poison, and its child ecstasy, the decay and annihilation of Death is cast aside, the spirit clothed anew in the radiance of corporeal transfuguration. ”

—

Veneficium:

Magic, Witchcraft and the Poison Path

by Daniel A. Schulke

#magic #witchcraft #traditional withcraft #grimoire #sabbatic witchcraft #sabbatic tradition #cultus sabbati #sabbatic craft #veneficium #poison path #daniel a. schulke

[sunshineseung]

Sinner // Felix

💌 Info: Stray Kids Felix x female!reader smut 💕 Includes: Innocence breaking, first time, degradation, semi-public, exhibitionism/thrill of being caught ✏️ Word Count: ~1.5k

——————————

Felix was every church’s dream child. He grew up strictly Catholic, always attended church, and stayed loyal to his faith. Everyone knew him as “the good child”. Although girls would fawn over him, he would always turn them down, claiming “my parents won’t let me date yet.” He was the perfect kid.

His downfall started on a Sunday. It was the Lord’s day, and he sat under you, whimpering and squirming at every touch. You loved to tease him, but something was so much more fun about palming him in the Church’s quiet attic while everyone else, including your parents, were downstairs in the main hall. 

Felix threw his head back, the pleasure becoming overwhelming although you were barely touching him. You look up to him with a filthy smirk plastered across your face, causing him to wince at the sight of you. Your hand gets more rough against his bulge, and you pull him into a messy kiss, slipping your tongue past his lips.

“Please,” Felix hisses, “touch me.” He moans into your kisses, allowing you to fully take control. He bucks his hips into your hand, becoming harder every second.

“Oh, my dirty little whore is begging for me now, huh?” You tilt your head, watching him bite his lip and look down at your hand. “I thought you were a child of God. What happened to that, Lixie?”

“It feels wrong,” Felix huffed out, bucking into your hand again, “but it feels so good.” Another groan comes from his throat, sounding desperate and breathy. You love to see him so needy, but you also want to get a taste of the untouchable boy everyone adores.

You unzip his dress pants and pull them slowly down his legs. His breathing gets faster as you move your hand over the tent in his pants. You laugh under your breath at the little sounds he makes trying to keep composure. You’re so ready to ruin him.

“Have you ever had a girl touch you like this before?” You know the answer to that question, but you want to hear him personally tell you that he’s a virgin. You move your head just close enough to his bulge that he feels your breath on his cock.

“N-no, Y/n. You’re my first.”

“You’re gonna be my bitch tonight, baby boy.”

You slip down his tight boxers, exposing his cock and making him gasp from the sudden exposure. Your hand gently takes his member and feels every vein on the angel boy’s cock. Felix looks up to the sky; his eyes are apologizing to the lord for what he’s about to do. 

As your hand strokes his cock, your mouth hovers dangerously close to his tip. There’s precum leaking down his cock, running into your fingers. His moans are quiet, and his eyes are squeezed shut. Your lips graze the tip of his member with a short kiss, and he releases the most pathetic moan you’ve ever heard. Felix hates to admit it, but he’s desperate for your touch.

“Please be gentle, Y/n,” Felix pleads, mouth agape from your actions, “I’m not used to this.”

“Calm down. If you speak any louder, they might hear you downstairs, and you wouldn’t want the pastor finding us up here, would you?” You lick a long stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, forcing a gasp out of Felix. He twitches in your fingers, thrusting his hips into your hand for more stimulation. 

“N-no, I don’t. No one can no about this.” His groans get quieter but deeper. His legs shake from the pleasure, so you’re forced to hold one of his legs still while your other hand is still wrapped around his length. 

“If you don’t want them to know, then only speak when spoken to. I don’t like being disobeyed, little boy.” Your hand squeezes around his cock a little too tight for his liking. He releases a loud moan, only allowing more precum to drip down his cock. “Speak when spoken to. Don’t touch yourself or me unless you’re told to. Don’t cum until I say so. Your body is mine, so what I say goes. Got it?”

He nods, lightly whimpering from your harsh language. He loves being your fucktoy, but the logic side of his brain tells him to run and join his family downstairs. His body is at war with his brain, and to his ancestor’s disappointment, his body is winning this battle. “Yes, Y/n, I understand.”

“Good boy, Lix. If you’re good enough, I’ll let you fuck my tight little cunt. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, you little slut?” You laugh at your own words, fully owning the fact that you’re ruining him. He hums a muffled sign of content, and you take his cock into your mouth. As if he wasn’t close enough already, your wet mouth taking in his length surely makes him ready to burst.

Your free hand moves from his leg to your clit, playing with yourself. You feel yourself get wetter, and eventually you moan onto Felix’s member. The feeling is so foreign to him that he almost cums without your permission, but he’s too scared to disobey your commands. His moans get higher in pitch as he nears his limit.

“You wanna cum, baby boy? Wanna cum for me?” Your head bobs on his cock, you speeding up the pace after asking your mind-breaking question. “Or are you too holy for that? Too righteous to cum for me?” 

His mind is whirling. Although he want to cum, your ending dialogue forces him to reconsider. Just get up, get dressed, and leave. Unlike his brain, his body reacts on impulse and pleads for you to let him cum. His words are filthy, but they feel natural to your ears. You’ve make the good little Felix devolve into a primal whore with the only thing on his mind being his needy, twitching cock and the painful urge to orgasm.

“Please, let me cum. I’m your whore. All yours. My cum is yours. Let me cum.” The words leave his mouth fast and broken, voice cracks being sprinkled in without his intent. 

“First Corinthians 6:19,” you grab his hair and force him to make eye contact with you, your eyes dark and dripping with lust, “Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own.” Your hand pumps his cock as you grit your teeth from your quotation of the scripture. “Your body is not God’s. Your body is mine.”

Felix yells aloud, likely alerting anyone outside of the attic. Your reminder of his sins only makes him more hungry and needy for your touch. The tip of his cock is angry and red, begging to cum. 

“Cum for me, Felix. I want you to cum all over yourself.” Your hand continues to jerk him off as it position his cock towards himself. Like a racehorse hearing a gunshot, his cum shoots out of his cock at lighting speed. He covers himself in his own semen, the dim light of the attic making it glimmer for a second. 

You stand up and smile, looking down at him. You feel powerful, almost too powerful. You want to run out and tell the whole church that you made their favorite student abandon his faith to come undone in your hand. 

Meanwhile, Felix looks down to his abdomen, covered in his own release, and his heart drops at the realization of what he’s done. His post-orgasm clarity sends him into a panic, quickly grabbing a spare scarf from a box of old costumes and cleans up his... mess. He throws the scarf into the farthest corner of the room and puts his clothes on, hands shaking while he buttons his dress shirt.

“I... I got to go. They’re probably almost finished.” He heads towards the door to the stairs, but you grab his wrist and turn him around. Your bodies are inches apart, and he loudly swallows in fear.

“You have my number, right?” He nods quickly, hoping to get out of this situation as soon as possible. “Text me when you’re free again. You deserve a reward for being such a good boy for me.”

Fuck, being called a good boy is such a turn-on for him. He feels the blood begin to rush back to his crotch, and he pulls away from your grasp. 

“Okay. Bye, Y/n.”

“B-” before you can finish your sentence, Felix whirls around and darts back downstairs with the rest of the congregation. You didn’t even have time to tell him that there was an all too visible hickey on his neck. 

You head out a minute after him, giving him ample time to rejoin his family. When you go back downstairs to meet your folks, they inform you that you’re having dinner over at the Lee family’s house tonight.

“I’d be happy to go, mom.” You smile innocently to your mother, but your mind is racing.

Teasing Felix in front of his family? Sounds like fun.

——————————

I need to go to church after this one YIKES

#stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids felix #skz #skz smut #skz felix #fanfic #smut fanfiction #kpop #kpop smut

[godslayingenthusiast]

https://qgpennyworth.com/portfolio/the-strange-times/

The Strange Times was originally published in the Et Cetera Discordia, by @cramulus. This formatting of The Strange Times is from Holy Nonsense, a Creative Commons project. View Holy Nonsense 2020 here.

Each entry (single page or multiple pages of the same work) is released under an individual CC: Attribution, Non Commercial, No Derivatives license. That means you can repost this work as-is anywhere for any non-commercial purposes.

Image descriptions, including transcriptions of text, are expressly allowed, but just make sure you include the credits that are baked into the image when you do them. Transcript after the cut.

The Strange Times – by Professor Cramulus –

This morning I looked out my window and I saw an unsettling and surreal painting sprawling out to the edge of the sunrise.

Jedi and zombies, vampires and ninjas, cat suits and kings, robots and chameleons, prophets and the profane, and everybody’s together, eyes match forward, getting on the train.

We call it the Strange Times. This is the state of modern living.

We live in a world way weirder than any realm any explorer would ever hope to map. This is a world where your nervous system, tangled with fractals that are creeping like vines, extends its tendrils into the modern jungle.

Rule 34: if it exists, there is pornography involving it. There are lollipops with bugs in them. People get surgery to look exactly like Barbie Dolls. There are humans that have become lizards and tigers. The guys in suits have all become cyborgs. Children don’t play Cowboys and Indians anymore, now they play Self Aware Intelligence versus the Benevolent Plutocracy.

It’s the Strange Times, and every human being – even the boring ones – is unspeakably, unknowably weird.

Everybody used to be into the same stuff, you know? Everybody was at cocktail hour, everybody was into the Beatles, everybody was bathing together in the mainstream. But something happened and the stream got quicker, it forked out into a million little tributaries. The mainstream isn’t a river anymore, it’s an aqueduct and sewer all at the same time. It’s underneath us, always moving, carrying along all these images and symbols and the familiar sound of the ocean. Ideas bump into each other, and sometimes they STICK, and that’s how we get things like a music gadget you can masturbate with, or Japanese game shows dubbed with slapstick comedy banter. It’s not because these things are good ideas in of themselves, it’s because the mainstream keeps juxtaposing these bits of shrapnel in new ways. It’s all being churned up, and the whirlpool keeps getting faster.

Nothing has prepared us for the Strange Times.

If you think you can study history and make some educated guesses at what’s going to happen next, you’re dead wrong. Yeah, humans are still humans irrational poop-flinging apes. When you zoom out they’re not individual drops of water, they’re the swell and pulse of a wild ocean. That hasn’t changed in six thousand years. But these times are different. There’s wholesome sex in bathrooms and righteous violence in the high schools. Kingdoms make war upon each other not by sacking cities but by cutting deep sea internet cables. Super-memes collide and bounce off each other like sumo wrestlers, every single cell in their bloated bodies contains a lonely and confused human being. Our language is not evolving quick enough to keep pace. Words like “Good,” “Evil,” “Know,” “Learn,” and “To Be” are woefully inadequate to describe the modern world. These are the Dangers of Modern Living.

We spent thousands of years living in caves, working the fire and the rock. Then we caught the City Virus and the city spirit used us to build hundreds of temples. We spent generations in the sun, tilling the fields for the Nobles. Then we fled into darkness of the factories, air choked with the din of industry. In hindsight, it seemed to happen in a predictable way. Thesis, antithesis, synthesis. Build, destroy. SUnrise, sunset. Now we’re in the world that doesn’t sleep. If it’s light here, it’s dark somewhere else, like a snake biting its tail. People on the other side of the world are your neighbors, but there is an interminable distance between you and the guy next door (who you’ve never actually met). You see them every day, but the people on the train will remain strangers, and stranger still.

Odd juxtapositions are the sign of the Strange Times. Comedians are doing impressions of the King. The Catholic Pope looks just like Emperor Palpatine from Star Wars, and then retires and is replaced by and Argentinian who thinks maybe atheists and gays aren’t so bad after all. We sit in the dark around a flickering campfire and listen to the news man tell us stories about the Dangers of Modern Living. The news man knows that when you juxtapose an image with the story, it creates new meaning which is somewhere in between the ear and the eye. And if we zoom out a tiny bit, the story is juxtaposed with the house that the TV is in. And if we zoom out, that house is inside your head, next to all these other symbols and squiggles and values.

And then at some point, someone thinks it’s sexy to dress up like a cartoon cat. (oh, fuck.)

Nobody’s prepared us for the Strange Times, and there are literally billions of humans that can’t cope with it. They could deal with being serfs, they could deal with being soldiers, those are simple lives with simple choices. Now it’s come time to make a new story for themselves by assembling all these weird symbols into a lifestyle, a personality, a set of values. And they just don’t know how to do it. They look to culture to get clues for how to swim and be happy and break even in this weird world, and all they see are porn models and ninja turtles and humane terrorism and the extreme left and the extreme right and nothing is centered. If it was as simple as dealing with the sun and the crops, however hard that might be, people would pull through and maintain. But there are a million choices and complexities ad nuances and shrapnel flying at you like throwing knives and pillow fights and semen and banana cream pies.

We think it’s best to laugh.

#Holy Nonsense #Holy Nonsense 2020 #Et Cetera Discordia #The Strange Times #Essay #Discordia #Hail Eris

[dianasson]

The Uses of Blood

by Zeph Craven @dianaandpansson

A dear friend of mine, Marz (@HillbillyOracle on Tumblr) asked me about how blood has been used traditionally in witchcraft and magic and I decided to go all out with my response! Naturally, the traditions I’ll talk about here are from around Europe and European-derived cultures in the Americas, as these are the areas with which I have the most experience and feel qualified to speak about. Even this is limited by what has been written in English or Italian, which means I’m missing a lot of material! Of course, some of the following will be gory, bloody, or violent so please read with discretion (and TW: blood, animal abuse, violence). Many traditional uses of blood are inherently related to animal sacrifice or drawing blood from animals – I am not suggesting or condoning violence towards animals or people, only presenting the history and traditions as they have survived and as I best understand them.

The manners in which blood has been used in religion and mythology, or for magic and power, are both varied and continuous throughout European cultures. Some of these traditions have carried on, even if secluded to remote regions of Europe’s mountains, while others have truly fallen into obscurity. Witches, magicians, folklorists, classicists, and anyone who has seen a violent movie about cults will be familiar with a few topics covered here – if not in detail, then at least in dramatic atmosphere.

Sacrificial Blood The most common and widespread use of blood is as an offering to a spirit or deity. A simple and broad-sweeping discussion is best applied here; but I promise to not speak so generally in the following sections. Sacrificial blood is most often spilled from the neck of an animal – which is usually raised, treated, or traded in a sacred or special way. The animal might also be adorned with special ritual garbs, garlands, or ointments for the slaughter. While it is common in domestic and in secretive ceremony to offer up your own animal, in public or temple ritual the process of bringing the animal to the spirits and collecting its blood is almost always officiated by a priest or high-level initiate of some kind. This is a difficult and powerful act that must be overseen by someone trained in sacrifice, which is definitely practical to an extent – you have to know how to cut a throat – but I think the status of the officiant is mostly indicative of the intimacy and sanctity of such an offering. The moment of death is often celebrated by onlookers or participants, or else mourned as if their beloved were being slain. The blood may be spilled onto or into an altar or sacrificial pyre, or let flow into the water or soil at a sacred site such as a bog, hill, or field of repute. Frequently, the blood is collected instead. In many traditions, the blood of a sacrificed animal is sacred in itself – and the sacred is useful.

Sacrificial blood, being inherently hallowed, is an ancient and widespread tool for blessing. In fact, the English word “blessing” likely traces back to the word bledsian or ‘blood-sain’ (i.e. to hallow with blood). The blood gathered from a living sacrifice might be poured or sprinkled onto statues, walls, animals, or people. The sprinkling might be executed with a branch, rod, or sprig of a sacred herb. In chapter four of The Eyrbyggja Saga, the description of the temple notes that the bowl and rod used for sprinkling blood were kept on the altar-like stall in the center of all the god representations. Clearly, these tools were integral to the regular ceremonies of the temple.

Blood from a sacrificed animal is also a powerful, though complex, agent of purification. In ancient Greece, it was used to purify a shrine or temple 1  - frequently pig’s blood was applied as in Apollo’s case, while doves were common for Aphrodite, who abhorred swine. Purification with sacrificial blood would be accompanied by many rituals: supplications, prayers, offerings, and a disposal of the polluted remnants or lumata. It is important to note that not all blood was considered holy or ‘pure.’ In fact, the prime example of this kind of purification in Greece was almost a balancing of bloods: the sacrificial blood washed away the miasma or “pollution” of immoral bloodshed, such as murder. A murderer might suck out the blood of their victim and spit it forth repetitively to expiate the corruption of their crime. It wasn’t the physical blood of violence that needed cleansing, so much as the foul vengeful spirit of the person and the event, what we might now call ghosts and trauma. The animal’s lifeblood was sprinkled on the hands of the murderer where impure blood had shed, and then washed away. Some length of time (inconsistent through history and region) had to pass between the crime and the cleansing, and during that time the killer was somehow excluded from society. Though it is not difficult to make sense of this paradox, cleaning blood with blood was criticized even in the times of its practice. 2 In the previous example, the mechanics are only paradoxical if read hyper-literally. It is not as though any two insignificant bloods cancel each other out by contact; instead, it is something holy and potent that overpowers something wicked and polluted. Just as household cleaning agents must be engineered to bind to the dirt or oil they cleanse, there may also be some link between sacred blood attaching to dirty blood: the ‘like-affects-like’ principle making sacrifice a potent solution for this particular kind of miasma. There were epithets of deities that presided specifically over this ritual of purification and reintegration, called catharsis or κόθᾰρσῐς (kótharsis). According to Oxford Reference:

“The god who presided over purification from blood‐guilt was Zeus Katharsios, ‘Of purification’; this role derived from his general concern for the reintegration into society of displaced persons (cp. Zeus ‘Of suppliants’ and ‘Of strangers’). Apollo too could be seen as a ‘purifier of men's houses’ because his oracle at Delphi regularly gave advice on such matters.”

Violent bloodshed, childbirth, death, and corpses could all pollute a person or place with miasma, and sacrificial blood was only one tool of many for cleaning it away. Interestingly, the violent bloodshed of battle was less important and could simply be washed off. 3  With no greater significance is the trauma and poison of war-blood treated now. Later, on the outskirts of Greek cult-influences, menstrual blood was considered a pollutant that must be purified before entering temples – along with many other bodily fluids such as semen – yet menstrual fluids were rarely written of at all. 4 Some ‘scientific’ texts from this period suggest that menstruation is a form of purification itself, which could indicate why some might have considered the expulsed fluids impure. There are ancient Roman writers that speak of menstrual blood as a destructive force, in many ways that actually sound quite useful. However these are not the documentations of practices – rather products of solitary musings on agricultural metaphysics. These writers weren’t documenting, they were thinking ‘out-loud.’ Yet, it is not a far stretch to suppose that menstrual blood may have been considered a form of miasma in later Mediterranean sacred structures, especially looking at the modern practices of purification by sacrificial blood in some mountain communities of Georgia (Pshavi, Xevsuri, and Svaneti), which have strict taboos around menstruation in ritual structure, village composition, and social functions such as hunting. 5 These areas of Georgia were not once so distant from the cultures of the Greek empire, Colchis being a notable region of these mountains where the story of Jason and the Golden Fleece took place. In this story, Colchis is the kingdom of the infamous sorcerer Aeëtes and his daughter Medea, the witch, for whom Circe herself performed a purification of miasma by pig’s blood with prayers to Zeus of Suppliants. 6 The Kartvelian societies, in modern-day Georgia, were conquered in succession by Persia, Greece, and Rome. Where these rituals have survived (though some have supposed they were reinvented) in Georgia, the ganatvla sacrifice is carried out by a priest in a space kept pure and guarded with taboo, in the presence of St. George, his female partner, and/or other “children of God” (xvtisšvilni). Healing and benediction are prayed for as the bovid’s life spills over the supplicant’s arms, and this good blood is thought to drive out bad blood and impurities. One of the primary impurities is menstrual blood, and menstruating people are made to leave the general border of the village and pass their cycle in designated huts on the outskirts of the community.

In Xevsureti, the purification of religious spaces with sacrificial blood is so vital that they have creatively managed to introduce blood on structures restricted to humans. There are certain buildings so pure that even the highest priests cannot go near them, yet they soak snowballs in blood from the sacrifice and launch them at the walls from afar in blessing. 7 However, impure blood, such as the blood of a cat, might be spilled to sever the link between community and divinity, as seen in the ballads of the Zurab Cycle.

Well into the 20th century, rural Ireland would have been familiar with the bleeding of geese, cockerels and hens, pigs, or goats (though geese were most popular) on the eve of Martinmas (Nov. 11th). The animal would be offered to St. Martin and its blood spilled and sprinkled around the household, with some variation county to county. It was almost always spilled at the doorstep or on the doorposts, but often sprinkled in the corners of the house or kitchen as well, and this pattern was mimicked in the stables. Crosses were sometimes made with the blood on the floor and on the foreheads of the family members. Once, it would have been common in some counties to soak up the blood with cotton. This object was then hung up in the rafters, or else pressed against the body to relieve pains. The whole ritual kept out sickness and danger for the year. The reasoning behind the sacrifice, as well as the choice in animal, shifted frequently – usually having some connection to how the saint was killed, or else being a specific sickly animal promised earlier to St. Martin in exchange for its continued health until Martin’s Eve. Though blood-pudding was a relatively common dish, there were frequently taboos about using this sacrificed blood for consumption. Many good examples of this celebration can be found in the Duchas National Folklore Archive. Dr. Billy Mag Fhloinn has argued that this Martinmas blood-sacrifice is a remnant of older Samhain traditions – as the shift to Gregorian calendar would put November 11th (modern) around October 30th in the Julian calendar. I hesitate to indulge this theory, as I do not see all pivotal rituals, games, and social functions transferring dates to match the contemporary calendric year except this singular rite, but Mag Fhloinn himself is hesitant and cautious enough. I think it highly plausible that this is a purely Irish-Catholic ceremony, incorporating rituals that inherently reveal the functions of the natural world according to older Irish world-views: in other words, that blood sacrifice as a means of purification and protection was not in contradiction with the sanctity of God and the Church. It just worked, so it kept on.

This is actually amazing, considering the contradiction of blood as a purifying agent (mentioned previously) was such a severe point for philosophers and theologians over a thousand years prior, though that ilk is by definition less concerned with what is practical. Blood sacrifice is inherently dramatic. Like orgies, infanticide, and cannibalism, Greeks and Romans eventually used the image of blood sacrifice as a polemic tool for propaganda against Pagans, Jewish communities, and more distant cultures. Most especially utilized was the image of far-off ‘barbarians’ sacrificing humans, a point that some Roman historians used to criticize their own history [read: chart their sophistication.] By the 3rd Century CE – things are getting a little Christian now – even animal blood sacrifice was brought into suspicion in the high seats of Roman imperial religion, scholarship, and governance. Pythagoreans and Platonists moved away from the older practical applications of purification as a directly effective ritual, bringing catharsis to a metaphysical, philosophical, and eventually psychological light. 8

Initiation by Blood Unspecific to tradition, there are some initiatory rituals that call on blood (be it from sacrificed animals, the initiate, or even divine blood) to be reborn. A striking example of this is the taurobolium: an initiation of priests into the cult of the goddess Cybele, who came from Asia Minor where she was worshiped for millennia under unknown names. Her oldest appearance is from around 6,000 BC in Phrygia, though the detailed descriptions of this ritual come from later Roman writers after her cult had travelled to that peninsula, where she was called Ma’tris Magnae (Great Mother) or Ma’tris Deum (Mother of Gods). 9 In English, she is often referred to as Magna Mater but I’ve always found that bothersome; I think if you’re going to use a Latinate name then use the real Latin name! If that’s too hard, just translate it and call her Great Mother. Her cult was perhaps most infamous for its priesthood of male eunuchs and its castrated-animal sacrifices – very threatening concepts to the imperial patriarchy.

The initiate would stand in a pit that had been covered by planks of wood, in which holes had been made, and a sacrificial bull would be lowered onto the planks. As the initiate covered his ribbon-crowned head with his toga, the bull was killed and its blood released by spear thrusts and tugs that widened the wounds. The initiate would emerge from the pit, unrecognizably drenched in hot, smelly blood. According to Prudentius, the blood was even expected to be let into the mouth, which strikes me as indicative that you are not only purging outside influences with the holiness of the sacrifice but also inner impurities and insufficiencies, making your whole self ready for service to the Great Goddess. Some accounts say a goat or ram might be killed in conjunction with the bull as a sacrifice to Ma’tris Magnae’s lover, Attis. Both animals would be castrated. 10

One brief example from the Greek Magical Papyri (Papyri Gracae Magicae, or PGM) describes a ritual of initiation into the mysteries of magic by drinking the blood of a white cockerel (or rooster) before jumping into the Nile. 11 Submersion into natural, especially sacred, bodies of water is common in initiation rituals throughout Europe and the Mediterranean, but this is a pretty unique application of cockerel blood. White and black cockerels are common fauna in Euro-centric magical recipes along with cats, goats and rams, owls, lapwings, and doves or pigeons. A white cockerel has the properties of a high masculine divinity, of an upper-worldly or celestial persuasion, and might therefore be used in magic for success, love, conquering, protection, or appealing to that same divinity. In this initiation ceremony, we might understand the consumption of its blood as integrating these properties to the self, alongside a purification and rebirth in the sacred river.

Jumping forward about 1,200 years, we see a very different use of blood in a very different kind of initiation. Isobel Gowdie gave a confession in 1662 to crimes of witchcraft near Auldearn, Scotland. She gave many vivid accounts of her illicit outings with the Devil, the fairies, and her coven. The following scene describes the renunciation of her baptism and the ritual of being re-baptized by the Devil:

“Margaret Brodie, in Aulderne, held me up to the Divell, until he re-baptised me, and marked me in the shoulder, and with his mouth sucked out my blood at that place, and spouted it in his hand, and sprinkling it upon my head and face, he said, ‘I baptize ye, Janet, to my self, in my own name!’”

Janet is the new name bestowed upon Isobel by the Devil here, her un-Christian name you could say. Her own blood is applied, in place of the baptismal water or oil. It is noteworthy that the blood is sucked into the Devil’s mouth before being used to anoint her, perhaps cycling it through his divinity and imbuing it with ‘unholiness.’ This initiation might be seen as necessary for a witch to work with the Devil. Since the Catholic ritual of baptism is a cleansing of sins and an exorcism of the Devil in its own right, it might prevent such ungodly powers working within a person. In this light, the consumption and sprinkling of Isobel’s blood may function as a re-administration of sin into her soul, thus severing her connection with God.

Another 277 years later, and an ocean away, we find a new kind of blood in the initiation of witches and magicians. There is blood to be found in folk stories of witches sacrificing animals (black cats and black cockerels) to the Devil for initiation and ensuing magic throughout the Appalachian and Ozark Mountains, yet the most fascinating example is neither a direct sacrifice nor an ingredient. A story from Wise County, Virginia recounts how a young man gained his powers. After eight mornings of rigorous ritual process:

“On the ninth morning, he took his gun and the silver bullet with him. He shot the bullet toward the sun as it came up over the ridge. They had told him that if the sun looked as if it were dripping blood as it came up, then he would be a witch.”

The ninth morning didn’t present him with all the required signs of confirmation, and it took him two full years to complete his initiation as a ‘conjure man.’ Shooting the sun follows many clearly chthonic and sacrilegious rituals, which might indicate that this is a metaphor of wounding God and denouncing him. The dripping blood is confirmation of the initiate’s power to stand against the Christian God, who was once frequently associated with solar imagery. This is truly speculative, yet if the symbolism holds in context, this would be an example of divine blood within initiatory divination. 12

Bloody Witchcraft Now that we’ve dipped our toes into early modern witchcraft, let’s go in deeper. When the image of the early modern witch is merged with the image of blood, one might first jump to the scenes of paranoia previously listed: orgies, infanticide, and cannibalism. Thanks to twelfth century theologians and sixteenth century Protestants, we can now add dramatic demonic sacrifice to that list. Despite the excitable and repetitive fanfare of the Witch Craze, there are many intriguing elements of blood-work in witchcraft to be examined besides the initiations discussed previously.

In late 1500s England, it was common knowledge that familiar spirits (i.e. beings provided to a witch or magician by the Devil, God, its previous owner, or the monarchy of Fairy to help with magic and mischief) might be fed with blood from the witch’s body. While milk, bread, or butter was the most common offering, blood remained a more fanatical portrayal for the popular culture of the courts and taverns. It was common knowledge that a witch might feed their familiar spirit with blood let from the mark left on them by the Devil, perhaps at initiation. 13

In continental Europe, examples abound of witches that feed on blood from quite ancient to very modern folklore. The definition of “witch” is blurred in this context: they might be incorporeal beings that can afflict, abduct, and loot not unlike the fairies, sucking the blood from men and babes in the night. 14 The witch may instead be your very tangible neighbor: unlikeable and affronting, who frequents Sabbats and wets their gullet with blood while feasting on infant corpses before dancing erotically for the Adversary. There is an association with witches and the creature strix (screecher), as blood-sucking entities 15 that find victims in the night. Through evolution or syncretism the strix became strigoi, and was related with vampyr, and vrykolakas: creatures of a sorcerous nature that thrive on human blood and remains. Incorporeal, animal, or humanoid witches might feed on blood for power and longevity. The latter might use it to attain those non-human shapes. Witches in the Balkans were said to use children’s blood as an ingredient in their transformative ointments and unguents 16  – though infant fat was far more common elsewhere on the continent, I doubt much effort would have been made to wash clean their diabolical cooking lard so we can bet on some blood in there too. In Scandinavian witch trials, there is an example of the blood and pelt of a cat being adorned to take on its very form. 17 For witches, blood is sustenance and life or it is a gory detail in scenes of taboo ceremony. If the story of any particular witch’s ritual incorporates elements of more Abrahamic magic, then its use of blood will align better with those covered in the grimoire section below. As Matteo Duni discusses throughout his book Under the Devil’s Spell, the intersection of witches and literate magicians in early modern Europe was broader than many suppose, and these folks talked and traded secrets quite a lot.

Blood as Medicine Blood has medicinal functions as well as diabolical. In older Euro-centric medical thought, our blood might carry forces within it that induce illness. The spiritual and the scientific were not so juxtaposed once, and it may have been a build-up of that hot, red humor or a malefic presence in the blood that caused a fever, high blood pressure, apoplexy, and/or headaches. The persistent cure was letting that excessive/bad blood out of the body: i.e. bloodletting.

Some cures prescribe blood as a magico-medical ingredient. In County Kerry, Ireland a swelling or injury in the leg could be cured by taking the blood from a cat’s ear and drawing a ring with it around the affected area. There was also a belief in some areas of the country that the blood of people in certain families could cure specific diseases, for example folks with the last name of Cahill could make symbols with the blood of their little finger and speak a prayer to cure someone of “wild-fire” disease. The blood of a black cat could cure the same affliction. In the Pennsylvania-Dutch magico-medical text Long Lost Friend, we find a cure for epilepsy in drinking the blood of a dove.

Blood in Divination A common form of divination in North and Central America is divination by egg, or oomancy. The egg is passed ritualistically over the patient’s body before being cracked into water. The signs that the floating whites and yolk make can be read to tell fortunes or diagnose problems. Any spots or streaks of blood in the mixture are considered an incredibly bad omen.

The shades of the dead around the ancient Mediterranean would feast on spilled blood, and the blood of all-black animals was an efficacious offering to them. In the Odyssey, most-likely written down in the 8th century BC, Circe gives Odysseus advice for consulting with the dead: in a particular cave, a trench was to be dug (a proper altar for underworldly spirits) into which libations of milk, honey, sweet wine, water and barley grain were made. Finally, sheep were led to the edge of the pit where Odysseus cut their throats and let the dark blood spill in, all the while making prayers to dwellers in the house of Hades. He stands with his sword between the pit of blood and the shades when they come, postponing their desire to feast on it and tantalizing them until he receives his intended counsel. Over 2,000 years later, this ritual of consorting with the dead has survived in the grimoire of Arthur Gauntlet, though understandably changed and with a subtly different interpretation on the means of summoning:

“Now these souls…are easily allured by the [body-] like vapours, liquors and savours. From hence it is that the souls of the dead are not called forth, without blood, or the putting of some part of the forsaken body & we perfume with fresh blood in the calling forth of Shadows, with the bones of the dead, and flesh, with Eggs, Milk, honey, Oil and the like which attribute a fit means for the souls to assume their bodies.” 18

Around the 1st century BC, Varro also mentions the pouring of blood into a divination bowl to draw the spirits of the deceased – who see much more than we – to the diviner. 19 Blood in Magic In magic, the main uses of blood draw on its continued association with its original host. An animal’s blood may be included in a spell because of that animal’s magical properties and associations. A person’s blood contains their essence and maintains a link with the target or the spell-caster respectively, which is manipulated through ritual. The connection with the source of blood, or perhaps the implied sacrifice, also gives power to writing magical words and symbols.

Personal effects are bodily fluids or trimmings that are included in spells to increase the power of the ritual. For example, a figure of a person made in wax or clay would have some power over the target just by being shaped and named for them. However, the inclusion of blood, hair, or nail clippings dramatically increases the efficacy of the magic. Even personal items, such as bits of clothing, are useful, though much more so if they’ve soaked up some of the target’s sweat. The blood of the spell-caster might be administered to their victim, disguised in food or drink, as a consistent method of forcing love and seduction. Sometimes the type of blood fed to a victim is unspecific: sometimes it is menstrual, and other times it is even an animal’s. Usually, the latter would be a dove or pigeon, which are associated with Venus.

Blood could also be used in undoing magic and breaking spells. In Hungary, 1730, a Mrs. Mihály Jóna presented a cure for the evil eye to her patient: the mother was to procure three drops of blood from the little finger of the person who “saw” her daughter (gave her the evil eye) and to drip it into her daughter’s eyes. This would relieve her of the illness that the evil eye caused. 20 In early modern England there was a rather specific belief that a witch sighting their own blood would have all their spells broken. This obviously led to some relatively violent attacks on suspected witches. Perhaps a callback to the previously discussed purification by sacrificial blood, a Devon cunning-woman named Agnes Hill performed this ritual to cure a woman of sickness by witchcraft:

“Hill then said we must kill the cock, and desired her mother to cut its throat, which she did with a razor. The cock was held over the new earthen pan, holding the fasting water [her mother’s urine] and the blood, which was mingled together, and then put over the fire to boil. Hill then cut open the cock, and took out its heart, and told her mother to stick seven new pins into it, likewise seven new needles, and nine blackthorn prickles. The ash wood was put on the fire under the pan, the heart was hung up to roast before the fire, and it was afterwards thrown into the fire, pins, needles, and all.” 21

Here the cockerel’s older associations with the sun, success, and conquering might be invoked to drive away the malefic influences of the witch. Perhaps the celestial masculine divinities of which it was once symbolic were even replaced by or subtly aligned with the Christian god of Agnes’ time in 19th century Devonshire.

The weightiest source of blood-use in magic comes from the grimoires of continental Europe, Iceland, and England. Sometimes, the application of specific animals’ blood seems to break from the overall patterns, and the text itself can seem to be sewn together from opposite ends of missing sentences. The way these tomes were passed on was often by hand-copying each word, and the transference of some very ancient rituals over the span of many hundreds of years has surely let some material and context fall into the cracks of history. Due to the overwhelming and obscure specificities of the material, these examples will be found predominantly in the post-script notes.

Properties of animals in folk magic and grimoire traditions directly correlate to the applications of their blood. To quote Agrippa, in a hyper-literal example, “It is also believed that the blood of a bear, if it be sucked out of her wound, doth increase strength of body, because that animal is the strongest creature.” 22 Every animal has some magical properties, but these associations definitely change over time and by location. There are very common animals, and persistent patterns, that allow parallels and conclusions to be drawn. In continental European and American folk magic for example a cat might represent a woman and a dog might stand for a man. Bits of those animals are used to affect their respective genders and provide a symbolic link to the magical targets. In the Balkans, blood of a dog and cat were sprinkled on the path between wandering husband and his paramour to cause dislike between them, which could be read differently as the essence of two animals that like to fight being used to cause discord. The color of the animals would have likely been relevant, but this is not included in the account. 23 In the continental and English grimoires there is usually an implied proper procedure for procuring blood from an animal – not just where to cut, but when, and accompanied by which exorcisms, etc. That blood was used in the consecration of sorcerous ritual tools; as an ingredient in or as itself a magical ink; combined into a perfume with herbs and other fleshy or mineral bits; mixed into oil to make a lamp; or anointed as a refreshing face-mask!

If the blood must come from the magician, it is almost always drawn from the little finger, or else it does not specify. The magician’s own blood is used for writing sacred words and incantations, mostly in love spells and cures – though in at least one instance for the conjuration of spirits with a more arcane intention. In Long Lost Friend there is a different sort of love administered, with the magician feeding a dog their blood to create an instant bond between the two.

However, Icelandic magic uses the magician’s blood drawn from specific and varied areas of the body such as certain toes or fingers, or the thigh. Blood would be traced into carved symbols and words on wood, bone, skin, or stone. One example is how the witch Þuríðr uses magic to defeat a great Icelandic hero, rubbing her blood into runes on a beached log while speaking a charm, and walking around it counter-clockwise. 24

Bloodstains Blood leaves a mark: that has always been said. Places of great bloodshed are sacred to the spirits of Mars in grimoire magic. They are also very feasible settings for raising the dead. However, the most famous and infamous bloodstains are a break from the previous sections; 25 they are not made from animals or mortals. When the blood of gods is spilled, there is a creation to it and a power to it. Jesus, Chronos, and Prometheus all had blood spill from them in torture or death. Whatever this blood touched was changed; adding colors to animals, plants, and minerals, or else creating powerful new flora that have great use to any magician. The spilling of the blood of Jesus is a pervasive and consistent image in magical charms and prayers of all sorts. It is his blood that is consumed in the wine of every communion ritual. In the Prose Edda, the gods of the Æsir and Vanir formed a peace treaty, and from the spittle of their treaty they created a man of pure wisdom named Kvasir, who entertains them and travels the world answering many riddles and questions. The dwarves, Fjalar and Galarr, who value little above what they can create and forge, pulled Kvasir aside, slitting his throat and draining his blood into vats of honey for making mead. This mead carried his wisdom, scholarliness, and poesy forever through his blood. It was once said that whoever had a genius for poetry had drunk from this mead. In 20th century Irish manuscripts from the Duchas archive, there are many entries about bloodstains from violent deaths where the ugliness of the crime was so wicked the blood refuses to be cleaned. There are also many stains on stones and churches from martyred priests that likewise never fade, in which we see a touch of the divine. The blood of the otherworld neighbors, the fairies, has also stained many a stone throughout Ireland’s counties, said to be the sign of a battle between the Good Neighbors. Whether it’s godhood, otherworldliness, or extreme violence, some blood doesn’t wash away – my sympathies to Lady Macbeth.

The way we look at blood in ritual has undergone many cycles of change and of repetition, traces of which can be seen in our current cultures. From practical applications, and cosmological ramifications, to a prop on a stage of fear, there are examples from literal thousands of years ago through to this past Sunday. Sacrifices and stains surround us, and we walk around with this potent fluid sloshing through our bodies, invisibly waiting to be tapped and put to use in casting enchantments or feeding our secret spirits. I hope this has been illuminating to you, in some degree, and I beg forgiveness for any major oversights or misinterpretations in this text. Be nice to your pets please. See post-script for endnotes, and for examples of blood in grimoire texts.

Examples from the Grimoires:

In no particular order, here are examples of blood in grimoire texts. Where unspecified, assume the blood is applied as ink. Enjoy.

From the Greater Key of Solomon: Book II – Many sorcerous tools are dipped in various bloods as part of their preparation. A ceremonial white-handled dagger is sanctified in blood of a gosling bird and the juice of a pimpernel and engraved before being wrapped in white silk. The famous black-handled knife used to strike fear in the heart of spirits should be dipped in blood of a black cat with juice of hemlock and engraved before being wrapped in black silk. The ritual sickle is dipped in blood of magpie and juice of mercury-herb. This text also has a procedure on the proper purifications, rituals, and prayers needed to take blood from a bat and other animals for use in magic. There are instructions for general animal sacrifice and it does specify that the animals should be virgins (yes in the sexual sense), and it includes words that should be said later when spilling the blood in Chapter XXII. Book I – The blood of a black hen is used on hare skin to prevent a hunter from his bounty. Blood and fat of a dead man are used in an oil lamp to reveal hidden treasure. For spells of trickery and deceit the ‘pen of art’ should be dipped in the blood of a bat previously procured in the correct manner for use. Pentacles – Blood of a screech owl in conjunction with a swallow pen is to be used for the Second Pentacle of Jupiter, and the blood of a bat in the Seventh Pentacle of Mars.

From the Black Pullet: The magician’s wand is stained with lamb’s blood in its creation and sanctification.

From Agrippa: Perfumes – Blood of a white cockerel for Sun perfume, goose blood for Moon, bat for Saturn, stork or swallow for Jupiter, blood of a man and of a black cat for Mars, pigeon (or dove) for Venus (boar’s blood in Arthur Gauntlet), and magpie for Mercury.

From the Sword of Moses: No.55 Uses your own blood as ink on an egg for a love spell and No.64 Uses your own blood as ink on both your doors for the same. How embarrassing!

From the 6th and 7th Books of Moses: Writing magical circles with the blood of young white doves for the inquisition and enslaving of spirits, and the blood of butterflies for writing the seals of the Seven Great Princes who are nature and treasure spirits.

8th Book of Moses: Baboons blood is used in a spell to send dreams to your target.

From the Lemegeton I: Goetia: Writing another seal for binding spirits with the blood of a black cockerel that has never mated with a hen.

From the Grimoirum Verum: Your own blood from your little (Mercurial) finger for writing the conjurations of spirits, the use of white pigeon (dove) blood to inscribe names of the Hebrew God on a mirror for divination, and To Make a Girl Dance in the Nude, which involves the blood of a bat on a blessed stone over which mass has been said. It is a very unpleasant spell: “She will undress and be completely naked, and will dance increasingly until death, if one does not remove the character; with grimaces and contortions which will cause more pity than desire.” Quite disturbing!

From Grimoire of Honorius: While creating a sacred lambskin to avoid perversion and corruption from the demons the magician will engage upon, the lamb is sacrificed, but the magician must make an effort not to spill the blood of the sacrificial lamb onto the earth. Perhaps this is an avoidance of old-pagan blood-sacrificial dirtiness, or avoidance of telluric impurity?  

From SLOANE MS 3824 (called the Book of Treasure Spirits by Rankine): The invocation symbol for the spirit Mamon is drawn in lapwing or black cat blood, and in discovering a treasure trove the blood of a black cockerel is used variously as ink.

From the Book of Gold: Psalm 43 can be written in bird’s blood to destroy an enemy, Psalm 59 in billy goat’s blood for releasing the bonds of your own actions, Psalm 60 in white cockerel blood to bring back your wife, Psalm 90 in dove blood to protect and embolden fearful children, and Psalm 103 is written in bat or black hen blood for a love spell. Psalm 136 should be drawn in menstrual blood to stop blood – the phrasing in the text implies this may be a charm to staunch menstrual bleeding specifically.

From the Grimoire of Arthur Gauntlet: Bat blood to make spent money return; dove blood in a protection spell; blood from the finger of the magician in a cure for the falling sickness; ant eggs and blood of a white hen anointed on face let you see wonders; blood of a lapwing, white owl, raven, mole, hen etc. (super-bloody-murder-bath) for finding and conversing with familiar spirits; bat’s blood onto an apple before it falls, given to eat as a love spell; cockerel and sparrow blood written on a candle to summon a woman to it; white pigeon blood on green silk to attain the love of all people; bleed a bat with glass or flint and write “J” and touch to target who shall follow you, this can be tested first on a dog; and the blood of a turtledove written as a charm on virgin parchment and sewn into a pouch to be worn for success in playing dice.

Book of Oberon: This is really drawn from many older texts, but just to give this book some light – the blood of a lapwing may be suffumigated with lignum aloes to produce visions of spirits. For shooting competitions there is a ritual that includes dipping the arrows in the blood of your left finger.

From Papyri Graecae Magicae: # IV 1928-2005 – Serpent blood ink for binding a restless dead spirit with Helios for love magic, the following entry uses blood of an ass, eel, and falcon similarly. #IV 2145-2240 – Uses the blood of someone who died violently mixed with myrrh resin on bay leaf for an oracular divination.

From the Galdrabók: No. 34 Is a love spell placing worm or serpent blood where the target will walk over it along with other charms. No.45 Requires blood drawn from the big toe and right hand of the magician, which should be smeared on the yarrow herb as well as the required staves, in a spell to uncover a thief. No. 46 Is the famous fart rune, for which blood should be drawn from the thigh. 47 Also requires blood from the big toe to create the Helm of Hiding.

From Kreddur: No.15 Discover a thief using blood from under the left-hand middle finger to draw the appropriate staves.

Endnotes:   1 Parker, Robert. Miasma: Pollution and Purification in Early Greek Religion. Oxford, Clarendon Press/Oxford University Press, 1986, pp. 27-30. 2 Ibid, p. 372. 3 Ibid, p. 114 4 Ibid, p. 101. 5 Tuite, Kevin. “Highland Georgian Paganism – Archaism or Innovation?” Annual for the Society of the Study of the Caucuses, Université de Montréal, 1996, pp. 284. Parker, Robert. Miasma: Pollution and Purification in Early Greek Religion. Oxford, Clarendon Press/Oxford University Press, 1986, p. 370 6 Tuite, Kevin. “Highland Georgian Paganism – Archaism or Innovation?” Annual for the Society of the Study of the Caucuses, Université de Montréal, 1996, p.6 7 Fraser, Kyle. “Roman Antiquity: the Imperial Period.” Cambridge History of Magic and Witchcraft in the West, edited by David J. Collins, S.J., Cambridge University Press, p.133. 8 The distinction between Pythagorean pagans and sorcerous polytheists is mentioned by Porphyry, in an analysis of blood/flesh sacrifice vs. ascetic and moral acts of devotion. 9 Turcan, Robert. The Cults of the Roman Empire. Oxford, Blackwell Publishers Ltd., 1996, p.28. 10 Ibid, p. 52. 11 The Greek Magical Papyri: In Translation. Edited by Hans Dieter Betz. University of Chicago Press, 1986, PGM IV. 26-51, pp. 37-38. 12 Combs, Josiah Henry. “Sympathetic Magic in the Kentucky Mountains: Some Curious Folk-Survivals.” The Journal of American Folklore, vol. 27, no. 105, 1914, p. 329.   13 Wilby, Emma. Cunning Folk and Familiar Spirits. Chicago, Sussex Academic Press, 2013, pp. 82 & 109. Along with milk and bread by around In 1566, Joan Prentice let her familiar, Bid, suck blood from her cheek before bed. In 1582, Margery Sammon’s mother told her that the familiar the latter passed on must be given milk, if not they would suck her blood instead. 14 Scottish and Manx fairies, if not appeased by offerings of fresh water and bread, might drink your blood instead. 15 Perhaps screech owls or bats. 16 Vukanović, T.P. “Witchcraft in the Central Balkans I: Characteristics of Witches. Folklore, Vol.100, 1989, p. 12. 17 Willumsen, Liv Helene. “Children Accused of Witchcraft in 17th-Century Finnmark.” Scandinavian Journal of History, vol. 38, 2013, p. 27. 18 The Grimoire of Arthur Gauntlet, edited by David Rankine. Avalonia, 2011, p. 208. 19 Gordon, Richard. “Good to Think: Wolves and Wolf-Men in the Graeco-Roman World.” Werewolf Histories, edited by Willem de Blécourt, Palgrave Macmillan, 2015, p. 45. 20 Kristóf, Ildikó Sz. “The Social Background of Witchcraft Accusations in Early Modern Debrecen and Bihar County.” Witchcraft and Demonology in Hungary and Transylvania, edited by Transylvania Gábor Klaniczay and Éva Pócs, Palgrave Macmillan, 2017, p. 35. 21 Davies, Owen and Easton, Timothy. “Cunning Folk and the Production of Magical Artefacts.” Physical Evidence for Ritual Acts, Sorcery and Witchcraft in Christian Britain, edited by Ronald Hutton, Palgrave Macmillan, 2015, p. 214. 22 Agrippa, Henry Cornelius. Three Books of Occult Philosophy or Magic, edited by Willis F. Whitehead, Hahn & Whitehead, 1898, p. 73. 23 Vukanović, T.P. “Witchcraft in the Central Balkans I: Characteristics of Witches. Folklore, Vol.100, 1989, p. 15. 24 Mitchell, Stephen A. Witchcraft and Magic in the Nordic Middle Ages. Philadelphia, University of Pennsylvania Press, 2011, p. 94. 25 Perhaps excepting the Appalachian witch’s ritual evidence discussed in the Initiation section. Image Credits (in order): Blood in water. source unknown (anyone know it?), accessed via google images Feb. 3rd 2020. Blood saining, from Beowulf and Grendell (2005), dir. Sturla Gunnarsson. accessed via Facebook, Feb. 1st 2020. Bainbridge, Alexander, 2015. Mindia toasts the memory of Iakshar after the sheep sacrifice, Beer and blood sacrifices: meet the Caucus pagans who worship ancient deities, Indipendent.co UK, accessed Feb. 1st 2020. Bleeding for St. Martin, posted in 2005 on Sligo Heritage, original source unknown, accessed Feb. 1st 2020. Taurobolium, or Consecration of the Priests of Cybele under Antoninus Pius (Detail).Engraving by Bernhard Rode (undated, ca. 1780). Accessed via Wikipedia Feb 3rd. 2020. Witches being baptized by the Devil, or Tiercement le confirme en cette opinion luy grauant de ses ongles le front pour d'illec tollir le Chresme & signe baptismal. (Fig. 5.). Woodcut. Accessed via Project Gutenberg Feb. 3rd 2020. Blood in wine glass, source unknown (again, anyone?), accessed via google images Feb. 1st 2020. Blood on hand, source unknown (again?), accessed via Giphy Feb. 3rd 2020. Crown of thorns, (possibly) @Doug21, 2007, on Flickr, accessed via Flickr Feb. 3rd 2020.

#blood #sacrifice #witchcraft #bloody #magic #witches #occult #grimoire #esoteric #europe #european #folklore #folk magic #history #ritual #ceremony #sacrifices #blood magic #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: animal abuse #tw: death #tw: graphic #religious #paganism #pagans #pre-christian #bloodletting #blood-letting #initiation

[infjtarot]

4 of  Wands ~ Wheel Of Change Tarot

  The Ba Bird Flies Above a Sacrificial Fire Amidst Temple Obelisks The number four signifies completion and is symbolic of endings. It represents the result of the first Magical Triangle symbolized by the first three numbers in the Tarot, one being the self, two the not-self, three the action uniting them, and four the ultimate result. Four is the number of death and of finality because the eventual result of living is always death. Four is symbolic of order and culmination, exemplified in the fact that so many things are complete as groups of four: the four seasons, the four directions, the four suits of Tarot, and the four elements. Four takes the form of the square, which symbolizes the ordered world, the foundation of the visible world of the ancient Earth Goddess, and the completeness of her creative act. In the Four of Wands the Egyptian Ba bird symbolizes the soul, freed from the body at death and able to wander the earth. In Egyptian mythology the Ba was one of several parts of the individual. It embodied the person’s physical vitality, which left the living body at death. In the tombs of the wealthy the Ba was provided with passages through which it could fly to escape the darkness of the tomb and to explore the world, often returning to home, family, and former life, though invisible to the living. In many ancient and modern religions the bird is a symbol for the soul. A bird’s ability to take to the skies and to fly through the air gives it an otherworldly quality. The air, as the thinnest of the four ancient elements, is a symbol of what is beyond life and represents the mythical land of Heaven, where angels with birdlike wings sit on clouds playing harps. In Christian mythology the Holy Spirit, one of the three persons of God, was portrayed in art as a dove. The bird is also frequently seen as a messenger of God and has the ability to connect Heaven and earth. The Ba is an example of such a symbol; as the spirit of the dead that can explore the land of the living, the Ba connects death with life. In this way the Ba bird represents the completion of the number four. The Ba becomes the result of the connective principle that links the world of the physically vital, symbolized by the wand, to the silent land of the dead. The obelisk was said to be the phallus of the earth god Geb, who reached into Heaven to impregnate Nut, the sky goddess.61 From these obelisks you can see Geb’s semen streaming upward and creating the stars through his union with Nut. The pillar unites Heaven and earth, by extending from earth into the sky, and also divides them, holding the sky above the earth so that we may recognize their individuality. The pillar represents the active principle (three), which joins the two opposites (one and two) in the Magical Triangle and symbolizes the appearance of the issue of their cosmic union, symbolized here by the Ba. Four pillars were said to represent the cardinal points and symbolize the boundaries of the earth and the solid, visible manifestation of the world. The obelisk is a four-sided pillar and therefore doubly represents the world in its entirety. The straight road on which the obelisks stand represents creative, determinate masculine power, as opposed to the circular infinite power of the feminine. It is a symbol of direction and movement toward a known goal, here represented as a temple, which stands behind us as we look toward these obelisks. The four-sided paving stones of the road represent a microcosm of the four-cornered world. They also symbolize the individual and his or her place in the natural order, as well as a part of the common direction of the decisions of humankind, which propel us on the road of time. The altar on which the sacred fire eternally burns is the symbol of the undying creativity of the universe and its ability to constantly make new forms that carry the power of the creative Goddess within them. In many ancient cultures the sacred fire was kindled and allowed to burn for a year, then ritually extinguished and lit again. The newly kindled fire was the symbol of the sun’s rebirth at the midwinter festival. It represented the undying power of the sun to return again to its glory in the central vault of the sky, where, like the Ba, it will be able to see all that transpires on the earth. Δ When this card appears in a reading, it symbolizes a creative completion and ending that can give you a new perspective. The ending of this part of your life, which manifests in the completion of the physical or creative task at hand, has given you the ability, like the Ba, to transcend the normal, simple way of seeing the world and get a broader perspective. It is a moment of revelation, and through your ability to finish this creative task you are given a chance for growth and change through the ability to see yourself from this new perspective. Look carefully at your own creative projects; perhaps through them you are given the ability to see the world anew, just as art itself provides a new way to see the world. In your new perspective, you will be able to see elements that will fuel a new creativity and a new sense of physical being, vitality, and growth. These new elements, symbolized by the four obelisks—will be the source of new energy, and like Geb’s semen will result in new and rising creative impulses. This card also calls on you to examine how your completed creative act contributes to the structure of your community and world. Like the road of paving stones, each of us forms a part of the structure of community, and we contribute our part through the fertility of our own creative spirit. Like the Ba bird, we have been freed in order to gain a new perspective on the creative process and to see our place in the formation of community. Alexandra Genetti. The Wheel of Change Tarot.  

#4 of Wands #wands #tarot #wheel of change tarot