I’ll call this “traditional” because it’s merely one of many ways to meet the same end. There
are some methods more popular than others, but this is my method – a method not
so set in stone, I might add. Adaptions are always welcome, this is but a
guide. As I’m sure you all well know (and this is mostly for those who don’t) –
The Devil is not synonymous with the Christian Satan or the Muslim Shayṭān, but
rather an archaic being pre-dating the Christian conquest of Europe. He exists
in many forms, under many names – but serves much the same purpose: a force of
Enlightenment. He is the Keeper of the Arcane, whisperer of Mysteries, the
Intercessor but do not fall under the notion that He is wholly benevolent (nor
wholly malevolent) for, so too, is he the Trickster, The Fool and the Hanged
Man. In these capacities, he can be likened to Hermes/Mercury, the Lwa Legba, and
Exu – Keeper of Wisdoms, but ones that
must be earned. You will be Tested – and he will decide if you are worthy of
His knowledge.
To Evoke The Devil:
Go forth to a Crossroads at the edge of town – the more
secluded and forested, the better – near midnight or when the moon is New. Take
with you the blood of a chicken or horned animal, two black candles tied into an
“X,” anointing oil, a crown woven of (young, malleable) oak or hickory – as well
as a staff or limb of the same, and an accelerant of your choosing (I always
used 91% isopropyl alcohol as it burns clean – however, it’s temperamental in
colder weather). Optionally, bring pemba
or chalk if your crossroads lacks any dirt to draw in.
When you feel the time is upon you, mark in the dirt with
your finger or a stray branch, the symbol of the crossroads (the + in a circle,
in this instance). Adorn your head with the crown, place the candle(s) at the center
of the circle (at the cross) and with the staff/limb, knock the ground in the
sequence of: knock … knock-knock …
knock-knock-knock – Take the blood and drizzle around the circle in a
counterclockwise fashion. Light the two candles and anoint your brow with the
oil. Sit before the circle on your knees and bow in the traditional manner
(sitting on your heels with your arms stretched out before you and your
forehead just off the ground) – ball your fists and knock in the same fashion
as above – asking the Devil to come forth. Repeat three times.
Return to your upright position and wait patiently until
there is a change in the air or His presence is revealed. Beseech him in
whispers – be not commanding, but receptive – and allow His behavior to
influence your own. For instance, if he is stern and stoic, be solemn. But if
his behavior is relaxed, exuberant and playful – feel free to be so. I’ve only
ever experienced the latter. The Devil comes as jubilant and child-like to me,
teasing and joking – but I know this isn’t the case for all. Most importantly,
be genuine and be respecting. Crossroads beings always have a way of seeing
through any farce you attempt to construct – so save yourself and them some
time by being open and honest to begin with. They are knowing – don’t
underestimate them.
This is but the building of the bridge. Do not yet ask for
anything, merely introduce yourself and note what it is that you wish to receive
from this relationship and how you might honor the knowledge imbued on you.
When the communion is done – remove the crown from your head
and place it in the circle. Drizzle it with anointing oil and the accelerant,
and set it alight with the candles. Extinguish the candles and lay them in the
flaming wreath.
Take three steps back from the circle, and whisper the words
“DIABOLUS – LIBERA ME,” turn away and
do not look back – as is customary with all crossroads rituals.
Prepare, for you will be tested in some way or another –
knowingly or not.
Pictured is Hermes: “
So-called “Hermes Ingenui” after the inscription on the pedestal indicating the name of the sculptor or of the donator. Hermes wears his usual attributes: kerykeion (or herald’s staff), kithara, petasus (round hat), traveller’s cloak and winged temples. Marble, Roman copy of the 2nd century BC after a Greek original of the 5th century BC.”
Standard
Mosquito Pie // God’s Mama
She worked the roots to have her man; And he planted her in the ground – But ain’t no grave could hold her down. Just know, that when she comes back – She sure as hell ain’t gonna be the same.
Tracklist –
Conjure of Sacrifice
// from The Skeleton Key
Heavy Like A Witch
// All Them Witches
Voodoo Woman // Koko Taylor
Spoonful // Howlin’ Wolf
I Put A Spell On You
// Annie Lennox
I Wouldn’t Treat A
Dog // Bobby “Blue” Bland
(She Put The) Whammy
On Me // Screamin’ Jay Hawkins
It’s My Own Tears
// Shemekia Copeland
Death Letter Blues
// Son House
In The Room Where You
Sleep // Dead Man’s Bones
Evil (Is Goin’ On)
// Jace Everett
Dirt Preachers // All Them Witches
Psyhotic Girl // The Black Keys
There’s Something Wrong
With You // Screamin’ Jay Hawkins
My Body’s A Zombie
For You // Dead Man’s Bones
All Them Witches is one of my new favorite bands! I highly recommend them if you’re into bluesy rock – and I so am.
She stands on the ellipsis plane: A sheet of crystal – glass – Running with liquid gold That emanates from the wells of her feet – She is the ripple – & she is the echo And from the edges the metal cascades Into the vacuous chaos; Unbound by gravity – Hanging in liquid droplet stars; She is the crumbling statue Constantly shattered – and Reforming Of every shard particle or Planet grain of sand;
And as she dips one finger in the pool beneath her feet – Every atom of her being is hurled into the oblivion If sound could travel, it would be symphonic – grand and beautiful But there is but silence as each piece dazzles – bound by golden tethers – Sent to every edge, then halted: Each piece bears her face;
In the simultaneous darkness And blinding light, the cords tighten And begin to spin – so quickly, So precisely that they might only be Perceived as one golden egg – The age is marked and the filaments Coil, bringing with them every minute piece – Home; And the molten elements And heated gases collide Casted again in their familiar Feminine form –
She is Nexus – Mother: Spring of Existence; She of Red-Skin, she of Light, Our Mother and Destroyer, Lady of Infinite Eyes, who might see Herself – Anew; Dressed in white hot, plasmic fire Draped in scarves of galaxies, And Matron of the Stars Tended by the Black Maidens, Sentries of the Boundaries, Who produce before her fractured feet, The pieces shed in jubilant fervor – As she cast herself out – And birthed the worlds innumerable
Foreword: I’ve always had the desire to write my beliefs down in the form of a book. Admittedly, it’s always proven quite the task, because – while I know what it is that I want to say, I’m often stumped by the manner in which I want to say it. In the past, I have tried (vehemently) to write in as objective a manner as I can – to (very) little avail. And the other day, driving (the setting where most of my best ideas are formed) I decided that perhaps I should be taking a note from the countless faiths before me and approach it in a poetic (though not necessarily in the form of poetry) way. As soon as I began, I understood the great need to personify these forces – which I did. So, today, I sat down and typed a test run, just to see how it would play out and I’m happy to say it was far simpler than I expected. Of course, I was just typing, so while I edited spelling errors, the rest remains pretty much the same.
We’ll call this an extremely rough draft:
All were born in fire – a great expansive proclamation forged
in cyclical whim, devout equally to the flames of creation and destruction. It
is a force that remains: ever-spinning the heavenly bodies on their own unique
axes, expelling the cosmos further into the uncharted oblivion. This force – so
vast – remains yet, billions of years after the universal birth and from it,
sprung the potential for life – a means by which this expanse might experience
its own being. We are this meditation, this introspection and adhere –
knowingly or otherwise – to a grand hierarchy of existence and consciousness.
The stars may not know of their own heat – but we do.
If we must give unto this force a name, I will call her:
Nexus, for it is known that all things begin in the likeness of our Mother –
female. It was she who consolidated all matter and energy, gathered in an
infernal vortex, and expanded in a great flash of color, light, and splendor. And
this volcanic existence was her womb as well her form: every element funneled
from the great expanses – back from whence they came, to the Cosmic Pangea –
plucked from the vast darkness by the Voids, wherein even light might not be
spared. And these beings fed – and yet feed – Nexus, the Mother. She resides,
fragmented throughout all that is known and unknown, but at the site of
creation – the Heart of the Universe – the Voids return these pieces, tessellating
every element and experience garnered by separation. This Heart is but a nexus
in itself, a liminal place where all planes of reality collide – as such, it is
not simply the Heart of our own
Cosmos, but every existence, every
planar dimension.
And she is Nexus –
Mother: Spring of Existence; She of Red-Skin, she
of Light, Our Mother and
Destroyer, Lady of Infinite Eyes,
who might see Herself – Anew; Dressed in white hot,
plasmic fire Draped in scarves of
galaxies, And Matron of the
Stars Tended by the Black
Maidens, Sentries of the Boundaries, Who produce before her
fractured feet, The pieces shed in
jubilant fervor – As she cast herself out
– And birthed the worlds
innumerable
At the Heart of All, these pieces – beginning first with the
remnants of the Great Expansion – are distributed, continuously feeding this growing
form matter and energy until its mass might overturn its own creation force – when it
grows so vast, so large, that it begins to reverse its own Expanse, drawing –
instead – its remaining constituents homeward, back toward the Nexus, tugged at by an insatiable, gravitational hunger. It is her Rebirth, her mosaic reformation – as her
great force crushes as every piece and draws into itself every manner of
matter. All must return to the forge from whence it was wrought – with the
knowledge that in time, it, too, will be reborn at the time of the Next Age, the Expansion –
for it (like most things in existence) is cyclical.
The Qedavian Apocrypha 