Divine Deposits

Every morning I make a small offering to the gods, usually incense or a fragrant candle. When I light the flame, I say, “Hail Hestia, First and Last.” I then raise the flame to the heavens and say, “Beloved Theoi. Let this offering be a sign of the bond of love and trust between us.” I raise the flame higher and say, “Hail Theoi.”

Some mornings I feel like a total lazy ass. Some mornings working up the energy to make even this small offering seems impossible. But then I think, what if the gods approached their care of me with the same blasé attitude? What if Hermes slouched in front of the boob tube and said, “Yeah, I’ll get to that prayer after the next commercial”?

I realized that when you pray and/or make offerings to the gods, you always get back exponentially more than you put in, but you do have to put in something.


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Orion Writes Religion

Orion Constellation Zeus, Poseidon, and Hermes loved king Hyrieus so much they provided him an heir by urinating on a bull hide and burying it. Out of the piss and dust, Orion was born. He became a great hunter. So great was Orion, in fact, that he ended up the world’s leading constellation, aligner of the pyramids, 1980’s motion picture company, and the place from which the ancient aliens came to inspire humanity to do all the good things humans have ever done—or so say the alien people.

In November, senior year of college, during that blissful season between midterms and finals, Marjorie and I spent our weekend nights driving around in the toolie bushes surrounding Nashville trying to get lost. Miraculously, before cell phones, before GPS, we always managed to find our way home. The same roads that all led to Rome apparently also led to either West End Ave. or 21st St., downtown, and Vanderbilt University.

Marjorie was a Yankee and I a SoCal girl—as close to aliens as two blondes in a late model beige Ford Taurus could be.

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God Nature

Young Son Virile Boy
Humps his way through the underbrush
Eats out every night
Comes home for dinner
Head grows into the crown

Granddad Limp Limb
Back in the cave
Waits for ointment and
His good bitch to come back

Dad gone
to town for pussy and heartburn
Where’d all the good ones get to?
Loin cloth at the dry cleaner’s
Drags dick and briefcase down the jagged path home


I asked myself what would Nature look like if it were a god instead of a goddess. I thought particularly of the Wiccan Horned God. I realize this paints a rather dim picture, but the possible corruption of gods is something with which I am deeply fascinated.

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Soul Bites Spellcraft: Magic and the Law of Attraction

I asked Hermes once whether I needed this thing or that to get real, tangible results from my spells. He said, “Those things are kind of like marital aids. They’re loads of fun, but not really necessary if the inborn equipment is working.”

I have been reading up lately on the Law of Attraction via the works of Esther and Jerry Hicks. As I have come to understand it, the principles of manifesting through the Law of Attraction and manifesting through spellwork are similar to the point of being interchangeable.

Essentially, the Law of Attraction is, “Like attracts like.” What you think about will attract more of what you are thinking about, for better or worse. If your focus is on prosperity and gratitude, you will attract more prosperity and things to be grateful for. If your focus is on poverty and lack, you will attract more poverty and lack.

In spellwork, we often use objects to help us stay focussed on our intentions. The objects we choose share properties with our intended outcome. In the magical world, we call this “sympathetic magic.” We use green candles and coins for prosperity spells so we may manifest more coins and “the long green.” We use patchouli because patchouli is of the element earth and all abundance and prosperity comes from the earth. We write in green ink. We create sigils of the dollar sign and our prosperity power words. We add layer upon layer of these things that are like our desired outcome. We attract prosperity by creating a similitude of prosperity. In other words, we invoke the Law of Attraction, (whether we know it or not).

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Adventures in Nash Vegas: The Holy Loop

Spirit is spirit everywhere.

Standing on the porch of some broke-down frat house never held much appeal for M. or I. Solo cups so the campus fuzz wouldn’t know what you were drinking even though they did know. Vomiting on the lawn. Getting fucked in the back room. Being told who to blow by your sisters. Walk of shame the next day. Bad white-boy Hip-Hop.

We would ride by the houses on our way home from being out in the world and lament, “Oh, I could have had so much more fun.”

Our favorite thing was to get lost—break free of the Vander-bubble and find our way to losing our way. We had a route southward, down 21st Ave., way past where it turned into Hillsboro Rd. All the way down to Mack Hatcher Memorial Pkwy, (whoever he was). A left turn there, past the newly minted Mormon temple we had both toured during the open house, wore the little booties placed on our feet by kneeling missionaries, and surprised ourselves at how much color was inside.

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Friday Fun: It’s a Bird. It’s a Plane. It’s a Bruja?

I was doing research for my book yesterday when I came across this YouTube video of a bruja sighting in Mexico. Apparently it has made the rounds on Mexican news broadcasts and authorities have actually classified it as a bruja. How cool, (though maybe not so cool for locals who are really terrified of brujas).

I’m skeptical, of course, but it feels much better to let the imagination run away with itself.

I also found this great blog post in which a woman describes how Mexicans view brujas. She also relays her father’s story of a possible encounter with one. Read it here: Growing Up Mexican

Read. Watch. Enjoy. Tell me what you think.



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Imbolc Oopsies

Even though one of the worst social fails of my life happened on Imbolc, it is still one of my favorite Neo-Pagan holidays. Let’s all curl up in the candlelight as I weave my silly tale of social woe.

When I was a baby Wiccan, I found a local coven, (don’t ask me how), and decided perhaps I should celebrate the holiday with them, if they would have me. I called them up. We met in a public place. They dug me. I dug them. They asked me to come to their Imbolc celebration.

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