Moscow Pride

Great news! The recent legal restrictions against homosexuality in Russia have been lifted & preparations (pictured) are under way for the first Moscow Pride!

In all seriousness, Putin does a really good job of looking like a gay man. Lovely drag, dear.

D'you think we should tell him evidence (here) shows homophobic men are aroused by gay porn?

(Image credits: lots of different places on the internet, including Wikipedia, the Guardian, nationalpost.com, nydailynews.com, and probably several others I haven't noted, but of course I will happily delete copyright material if asked)

40,000 Page Views Guest Post: Gerald Gardner Talks to Young Witches

As is my wont, as this blog passes a round number of page views I have sought a guest post to celebrate. It feels painfully ordinary to have a post by a real person, when I have previously had guests posts by fictional characters, but not to fear, this one is dead. This is a transcription by Patricia Crowther of Gerald Gardner talking to young witches towards the end of his life. Gardner is of course a somewhat controversial figure in the modern witchcraft movement. Personally I don't have a problem with him, but then I'm speaking as myself a dirty old man who makes it up himself. For me the most important thing about any witch is whether they can come up with the goods, and Gardner definitely passes my test of living purposefully and magically. In fact his whole writings are redolent for me of someone who is definitely the real thing, not a thing one can say about a lot of modern witchcraft authors! 

'Of course it [witchcraft] isn't a thing that belongs to everybody. Some people have a sense of the old things, a desire for peace, a sense of wonder, and a sense of companionship and good fellowship, and that's what witchcraft gives you.'

On being asked how to work magic:

'…You've got to know exactly what you want. You've got to get it into your mind exactly what you want. It's not a vague thing: 'I want John Jones to get well.' You must know what's the matter with him. What particular part of him you want to treat. You've got to fix that very firmly in your mind. And you've got to get the people who are helping to know what you are working at.

'Then, of course, it's a question of raising your nerve power. Well, there are many ways of raising nerve power. Of course the simplest and possibly the oldest one is dancing round – and, actually, yelling and screaming helps. But, of course, it is a thing that is apt to take your mind off things, and I simply… I have not the breath to dance, so I've got to work in other ways. But there are a number of ways you can work magic. I don't want to go into that because you will be taught, and these are secrets.

'Of course, another way – a very old way of working magic – is the Hindu Yoga thing – that is, a method of intense concentration: fixing your mind on the thing; sitting there. You've got to get yourself into one of these Yoga positions – immobilize yourself. Forget your body, only concentrate on the one thought and work on that - work on that; will and will and will and will – and, of course, they say it works. I don't know whether it does. I never tried it; it's too much like hard work to me.

'But, of course, the thing is to try the form of magic that appeals to you, and find out if it works. I think the Yoga system is too apt to lead to illusions. I don't doubt that people get great pleasure out of it, because the concentration produces the effect of an opium dream. They have wonderful illusions, and they enjoy themselves very greatly. If that's all you want from it, it's a cheap way of doing it. Of course, a lot of my countrymen do the same thing with a couple of bottles of whiskey! Of course, sometimes they have a headache the morning after.'

(cited in Patricia Crowther: One Witch's World. Robert Hale, London, 1998, pp. 23-25)

(Image credit: here)

Film Review: Haunting at the Rectory

In common with many another weirdo, my way into the world of the Other was through the kind of things which were fashionable in my youth. There was a roaring trade (as always) in mediumship, ghosts, you name it. The real key to the weird for me, though, was when I eventually talked my mother into letting me have an 'adult' library card. Precocious brat that I was, there was nothing in the kiddies' library that interested me. As a result in my early teens I read my way – incredibly credulously – through Doris Stokes, various books about anything which could vaguely be described as paranormal, and ultimately discovered Harry Price's books about Borley Rectory. I read them as credulously as I did everything else, since at the time I didn't have the critical apparatus to hand to see through his apparently 'scientific' stance. It is interesting that, to this day, it is difficult to find an appraisal of the Borley events which is not either totally credulous or totally dismissive.

I'm looking forward to the film about Borley starring Reece Shearsmith. Mr Shearsmith can do no wrong in my eyes (apart from being heterosexual, of course), but while I'm waiting for that film I was interested to come across this film recently. I had already read the online reviews which tended to slate the film, but in my INFJ way of storing up information, perusing anything related to my one of my pet subjects, so that I can fit it into my mental spider diagram, is always welcome.

This film focuses solely on two of the characters in the Borley drama – admittedly two of the more colourful ones – Marianne Foyster and one of the random men who are supposed to have passed through her life at one time or another. This film turns her from the chronically bored, unstable, randy, rector's wife, into the neglected wife of a barely-sexed vicar, who is seduced by the randy gardener. This is, of course, to change the bare bones of the Foyster-d'Arles part of the Borley story into a great romance (I would recommend here as a calm account of the facts, minus some of the more hysterical accusations of murder, etc, which Marianne seems to attract). In fact the film would be great if you want a romance. If you're into that sort of thing there's quite a bit of straight sex, and in fact it's worth watching simply for the sight of Lee Bane smoking a pipe in the bath, which unfortunately wouldn't work as a screen capture so I'll choose his Mellors-esque appearance to illustrate this post. 

And of course this reframing of the Borley events into a great romance leading to tragedy is this film's downfall. The titles open with one of the classic pictures of the real Rectory, which implies, together with the statement on the box that it is based on true events, that the film will be about the Borley haunting. As an account of the haunting of Borley Rectory this film falls down on all fronts. The trouble is that the Borley story is actually such a rich mine of possible events for film-makers, and yet the makers of this film have both chosen one of the events which is marginal to the main story, and then messed it up by turning it into a scene of horror, with touches of horrific supernatural events. The Borley story is full of things like disembodied voices, wall writings, apports, skulls, nuns, coaches, tunnels, monasteries, bells ringing, doors locking, and so on, that it is a waste of an opportunity to miss them out. The film also ignores another simple fact at the heart of the story: it is about a huuuge house with almost no creature comforts in the middle of an English rural community, which instantly makes the story into one of loneliness and desperation. It is not about the comfortable yet apparently isolated existence lived by the Marianne in this film.

So in summary, this is not actually a film dealing with the Borley story in any great way. If you want a romance which turns into a tragedy, it may be just your thing.

Narcissistic Mothers & the Cock Tease

The lovely Inexplicable DeVice commented recently on how prolific I am being. I'm pleased that he was apparently referring to my blog posts rather than anything else (if I was straight I would probably have to dejob myself to avoid crippling maintenance payments by now), although of course he hit the nail exactly on the head in commenting that the urban hedge must be fertile. And of course that is exactly what is happening, I'm sitting nicely in my hedge and the growths, challenges, and spurs that come with fecundity are coming thick and fast.

A major way my life has developed even this week is that I made the mistake of reading through an internet forum about narcissistic mothers, while trying to get to sleep. I didn't sleep much that night at all, because finally I had found a bunch of people who were describing my childhood and ongoing relationship with my mother without having been there. A friend commented that it seems a pity it has taken me so long to realise that narcissism is what has crippled my relationship with my mother, and of course it is because nobody ever says to you 'I am going to treat you in a totally personality disordered way'. My own case is also atypical because as an only child I had to be both golden boy and scapegoat at the same time: no wonder I've always felt that whatever you do for my mother is never enough! I finally have the explanation of why my own account of life with my mother differs from the experience of family friends, is that the narcissistic parent projects the dream onto the outside world and so everyone else sees the wonderful mother who is a pillar of the church and never even realise the brooding atmosphere in the house that you never know what is coming next. This explanation also accounts for my failure to negotiate a sensible relationship with her: she would either say that my personal boundaries were unreasonable, or else agree to them and just ignore them. In fact the common experience of the children of narcissistic parents is that actually the only way to deal with them is to break off all contact, which is what I have been forced to do, with the resultant tirade of harassing phone calls and bad mouthing that she has undertaken.

Another friend very kindly (we have this sort of relationship) tells me sometimes that given what my mother is like it is surprising I haven't ever completely gone off the rails (I think the only child thing actually accounts for that – it means the narcissistic parent actually has a dependence on the child so that she can never really scapegoat). Of course where this leaves me as an adult is that I now know there is no point ever hoping for an apology from my mother, or a deathbed reconciliation on any terms except hers alone. There is truly no-one else in her world and I have to get on with my life as best I can. This may all sound very tragic, but all of this is stuff that I have been living with for decades, and I am actually relieved to have an explanation for what has gone on.

Naturally such a dysfunctional mother does create a legacy for the child. For a start I have the INFJ personality, one very easily open to the kind of invalidating parenting I am talking about here. I have also read that the INFJ personality is the one most frequently found in people who have been emotionally abused. Be that as it may, a further development in my life recently has been the extent to which I have realised that I am largely an older gay man with my shit together. I have mood and addiction issues, but they are both in hand to my satisfaction and my life is about as sorted as it is going to be.

I've commented here many a time about how once you deal with a particular situation it keeps on repeating for you, and I actually have the Cock Tease, whom I have posted about several times recently, to thank for this new insight. I have been pondering why the friend I talk about above, who also knows him, perceives him really quite differently from me, and of course the reason is that he shows her the golden boy. He has shown me the real him in fits and starts over a period of years. At this point, he is out of my life about as permanently as it can ever be, and his number is blocked. I have commented before that I lionise him, and actually the really funny thing about this is that I do. I genuinely think he is wonderful. But the reason I can have no contact at all with him is that he cannot cope with the fact I lionise the real him (he's had some things happen to him, fairly guaranteed to screw you up for life). He can't cope with the real him, and so comes and goes, stamps his foot, projects the stuff he doesn't like about himself onto me, moves house frequently, changes jobs all the time, drinks ridiculously to excess, etc.

Then I was talking to another mutual friend, who told me that he commented that he induces vomiting, and that she really believes he does have bulimia. This didn't seem right to me, but lo and behold, when a friend and I looked close up at a photo in which he was showing his hands, there it was: Russell's sign . It was after I joked with him about him saying that he went really funny on me, so he obviously let that slip by mistake and doesn't want it known. Given his complex personality structure, I have to accept that I can't go there until I have some sort of satisfaction that his personality is better integrated.  

But Hound, you may be saying, it wouldn't be like you just to accept that something is so without having a good meddle. Damn, discovered. I did suggest to my friend that we do a healing spell on him (I'm good at healing, me, although it would have worked faster if he'd had sex with me), and she almost visibly blanched on the other end of the phone and commented that it would take some doing. So while I'm no further on than thinking I might do something about him magically, it is necessary to do some spying.

His general state of health at the moment: Page of Pentacles. I would interpret this as referring to his lifestyle, his attempting to live like one of those youngsters who think they can drink and so on, without any consequences.

The effect any induced vomiting is having on his health: 6 of Pentacles. He's OK for the moment, but he's literally giving it away, and can't do that for ever.

The effect his drinking is having on his health: VIII Strength. Since this is a Major Arcana I would interpret it as meaning that he is an alcoholic, he is dependent on it and has lost any battle he has attempted with it, so that it will sooner or later take over.

The effect his continuing to drink as he is will have on his life: 9 of Swords. I previously got this card for how he saw me in the light of me finally cutting him out completely (I've cocked it up again), so I would interpret this as meaning that his life will start falling apart (relationships, friendships, jobs, etc) and it will reinforce the script which underlies a narcissist's golden image that he's fairly crap.

The manner of his death at this rate: 10 of Wands. My feeling is that it will not be sudden or even soon, but I have an awful feeling that he will do something he regrets when drunk, and either have an accident or get HIV or something, and that will put him further on the skids.

What I can do to help: VI Lovers (I don't believe this). I'm inclined to interpret this as me so far doing the right thing by hopefully giving him a shock. Of course Lovers doesn't just mean lovers, there are elements of the voice divine and parenthood, and growing up involved in it. I may look out a growing up spell. Watch this space. I'm guaranteeing you haven't heard the last of this!

Weird Shit: Tarot and Jacob Zuma's Lavatory

Normally I am unable to make that much of a connection between my periodic Weird Shit-themed posts, and the urban hedge witchcraft which is the main subject of this blog, in fact I have sometimes wondered whether my motivation in writing those posts is just to prove to myself that there are still weirder people than myself out there, but this one is a gift. In fact it's mainly a gift to demonstrate my own rather idiosyncratic way of reading the tarot.

I was astonished at the reaction the picture of Jacob Zuma's lavatory at his official (and hugely controversial) residence at Nkandla, had on me. This is actually the first time that some visual thing has caused immediate tarot references for me, which is an effect I have only read about. Leaving aside the most obvious impression from his 'throne', that the man has absolutely no taste, it is interesting to wonder whether tarot cards could conceivably be in the either his mind or the mind of the person who designed it. Wouldn't it be good if he read this and discovered the tarot energies he has accessed through his lavatory?

It most reminds me of the Emperor, King of Pentacles, and King of Cups. Naturally what they have in common is power and authority. Zuma's reputation would probably place him closest either to the energies of the Emperor or King of Pentacles, in terms of sheer worldly opulence and his 'foursquare' insistence on his own way. Yet his regime – notorious for corruption and cronyism - is so wrong for these cards, that I am reluctantly obliged to think of them as reversed. Opulence becomes grasping, and solidity becomes pig-headedness.

In appearance, his throne actually makes me think of the element of water, unsurprisingly, because of the tiles of which it is made. Yet the animals on his arm rests, which appear to me to be lions, I suppose would normally be associated with the element of fire, which would suggest that not only is the power symbology of the throne destroyed by the fact that he uses it to defecate, but also in referencing the contrary elements of fire and water he effectively cancels out the power of either. I think I can diagnose a very bad case of flatulence in Nkandla and the ANC!

Discerning the Effects of Magic

I had some very good news this morning, which I'm going to post here since I realise I am a bit slow to post the results of magic. I am also aware that the simple fact is that the witch will often never know the results of her magic, and my magic on Laurence Soper is an example of this.

Scoffers will use the apparent lack of evidence for results of magic as the proof that it isn't real. And it is interesting how often the results of magic actually occur before the magic – naturally without the practitioner knowing, and I give this merely as an example of how the universe doesn't work quite the way we would like it to.

And here's the point: the result is never the ultimate point of magic. I was actually thinking of the ultimate point of magic on the bus on the way to work this morning, and whittled it down to two things: the union of all things, and the correct placement of the magical practitioner within all things. The intention of a single spell is neither here nor there in this greater plan.

Nonetheless it does happen and I was very gratified to discover that my Boss Curse has had further effects (the illustration to this post isn't a completely gratuitous picture of a bit of rough, but I am the Hound of Hecate and it bears a relationship to what has happened to the boss!). Similarly the man I have had a thing for has decided to stop messing about and realise I'm the best offer he's going to get. And here's the way I know that this is the result of magic (not direct magic on him, I should say, but two people moving in a direction that would bring them together): something has changed in me. And what has changed in me is that I have realised that my great insecurity in relationships is inherited from my mother and was always manifested in the suffocating impossibility of ever having enough room from her. She phrased it as wondering if I was OK, but actually it was making her OK. Like a flash, I have realised that I have to trust this man, and I have to know that it's going to be OK, without me having to do anything. Of course I'll still have to work on getting him to accept the way I always will idolise him, but the point here is that I know this is magic because I have changed, and moved towards being in my right place in the universe. And as we know, the practitioner is always in some way the object of magic.

Activity and Passivity with Specific Reference to Ageing

I posted recently about my changing reading habits, and of course one of the ways they have changed over my lifetime is that there is now a whole 'library' of stuff on the internet to read. This has both the advantage and the disadvantage that anybody can publish anything – rather than the accolade of getting an actual publisher to publish your stuff – and this blog is actually an example of that phenomenon. I worry sometimes how I come across in this blog – a touchy queen, an absolute bitch or just a nasty piece of work – and this worry has actually been intensified recently by my reading through a blog by a woman who is a male to female transsexual.

I'm not going to reference which blog it is – I've decided it wouldn't be fair because I'm going to take a single recurring thought out of context and chew it over. However this blog has reminded me how much sheer labour it is to transition from one gender to the other. This person has been blogging over the period of her actual transition, even publishing expenses and intimate details of what she actually has to do. She manages the ultimate feat in blogging, actually, because you might think that writing about those sorts of things would be way too much information, but she manages to write about it in a way that doesn't revolt or give the impression of overexposure. She doesn't know who she is, but the blessing of the witch is upon her.

Anyway, the single thought that I want to pick up and run with is related to the fact that she is around twenty years older than me, already retired when she began her transition, and naturally for her age, thinking about what her old age will be like. She is therefore at a different stage of life from me; most people my age are pondering the unlikelihood of them ever being able to retire without starving or freezing to death on any pension they get. And this difference of life stage may be reflected in how she talks about extreme old age.

In one post she described seeing two different very elderly relatives, one living in her own home and the other in a home, and described the difference between them. She felt the one in a home was reduced to passivity as a result of being looked after, whereas she felt the other one continued to be actively involved in the running of her own life and running of a house. Where I may be being unfair is that I want to connect that passage to a passage she wrote at quite a distance of time where she describes the ability of old age to rob you – rob is the actual word she uses – of agency over your own life. She describes how it makes doing things impossible, and clearly feels a fear that she will ever get to the stage she describes, where she would feel she lacked a sense of agency over her own life.

One of the things I have had a realise in my recent dealings was the extent to which I have spent my adult life deliberately aiming to live purposely, and honing my will to make things happen, and the simple fact that not everybody does that. I swear I was an old-fashioned Quaker in a previous incarnation, because the level of plainness in my life has to be seen to be believed: plain living, dressing, eating, and plain speaking to the point of rudeness. Where this fear of geriatric apathy strikes me in this woman's writing, is that to my mind she has performed almost the ultimate magical act – by transitioning from one gender to another she has completely changed her persona in accordance with her will, and I am surprised that she is not necessarily able to harness this sense of magic and transfer it elsewhere in her life. However, as I say I'm referring to two ruminative blog posts some time apart and she may not always think like that.

This matter of accepting help is always a difficult one, particularly in extreme old age, because it gets mixed up with the fight or flight reaction. If you feel as if the power to make decisions for yourself is being stolen by a process over which you have no control, you tend to end up hitting out at the wrong thing. This is partly what happened with my own mother, she pushed me away with all the strength she had left, while determinedly taking herself down a road she consistently told me she didn't want me to let her go down. And this situation will be familiar to anyone who has had any dealings with older people's stubbornness and contrariness.

The connection with witchcraft is perhaps not apparent, but it is there, in honing the will and not allowing uncontrollable processes to take your attention from it. Any witch worth her salt will of course make allowances for variables including those considered unexpected by others – perhaps it's an INFJ thing, but I expect the witch to have fewer surprises in life than other people, as a result of looking around and considering everything involved in a situation. This involves making a conscious decision – and in the face of the old person's fear of 'being taken away', consciously thinking about it may result in the witch accepting the need to be cared for. I have used examples in this blog before of such things as volitionally caring for, say, diabetes, in such a way that you will optimise your chances of being able to see for life, for example. Similarly, nobody in their right mind who had broken a leg would refuse the use of crutches for fear of a loss of independence. The keys to this one seem to be facing the situation square on, and adapting to whatever the situation is.

Ironically, this isn't that far removed from what the World Health Organisation has to say about active ageing – I wonder if they realise they have an uneasy bedfellow in modern witchcraft?

'Active ageing is the process of optimizing opportunities for health, participation and security in order to enhance quality of life as people age. It applies to both individuals and population groups.

'Active ageing allows people to realize their potential for physical, social, and mental well-being throughout the life course and to participate in society, while providing them with adequate protection, security and care when they need.

'The word "active" refers to continuing participation in social, economic, cultural, spiritual and civic affairs, not just the ability to be physically active or to participate in the labour force. Older people who retire from work, ill or live with disabilities can remain active contributors to their families, peers, communities and nations. Active ageing aims to extend healthy life expectancy and quality of life for all people as they age.

'"Health" refers to physical, mental and social well being as expressed in the WHO definition of health. Maintaining autonomy and independence for the older people is a key goal in the policy framework for active ageing.' (http://www.who.int/ageing/active_ageing/en/)