The rite stuff

I was both intrigued and dismayed by the news of a wiccan "mass spell" against Donald Trump, performed at midnight on Friday.

The development has sparked fury among Christian conservatives, who have accused the witches of "declaring spiritual war".

Seems to me that this thing could backfire, especially when you look at the details of the spell itself. The key ingredients:

Unflattering photo of Trump (small); see below for one you can print
Tower tarot card (from any deck)
Tiny stub of an orange candle (cheap via Amazon)

No. No no no. Doesn't anyone know how to design a proper magical ritual anymore? Do I have to do everything?

Look: Here's the Tower card, as envisioned by Arthur Waite (a.k.a. "Wisdom while you Waite," because he wasn't the most concise writer in history) and illustrator Pamela Coleman Smith (a.k.a. "Potts"). The Tower is universally acknowledged to be a card of destruction. When placed in its traditional position on the Qabalistic Tree of Life, it is on the path called Peh, which, as any child knows, connects the sephiroth Netzach and Hod. As you probably learned from Sesame Street, Peh is associated with Mars. In other words, this is the path to war.

Ponder these concepts. Come up with a storyline that combines them all:

TRUMP
TOWER
DESTRUCTION
PATH TO WAR

The meaning should be obvious. For a while now, I have gone on record with my prediction that Trump will initiate a new war after arranging or allowing the next major terror attack. I believe that a portable nuclear weapon will be involved, and that the likeliest target will be Trump Tower in Chicago. 

Study the image carefully. Though the Tower burns and the people fall, the Crown magically remains intact and aloft. Note, too, that the Crown is of a Trumpian gold color.

As Waite writes of this card: "In yet a deeper sense, it may signify also the end of a dispensation." For "dispensation," perhaps we should read "democracy."

The Tower is a terrible choice for an operation of this sort because it could energize the outcome that we all fear most. I can guess what you're asking: "All right, Dumbledore -- what card would you use?" My first thought went to the darkest card in the deck, the Ten of Swords, which clearly represents The End. But upon reflection, I've decided upon Death. This card represents not so much physical death as change.

Next to Death, we must place the two of Pentacles -- or, as many tarotists would say, "pents." This card represents the nature of the desired change.

Number two. Pents.

Get it? Say it out loud. Get it?According to Waite, the card has the contradictory meanings of gaiety and agitation, which sounds about right. I'll be very happy at first, and then very agitated, if there is a change in favor of number two (pents).

As for the orange candle: Shitty choice, my wiccan friends. Yeah, I get the joke. But you've forgotten about the meanings of the color orange: Ambition, energy, stimulation and passion. Trump already has too much of those things.

This story about the great anti-Trump spellcast summarizes my fundamental disagreement with Wiccan philosophy:

To clarify, the original document states that this is a binding spell, which seeks to restrain someone from doing harm instead of harming the targeted individual themselves. Binding does not generate the potential negative blowback to the caster’s karma.

Binding? That's it? Look, if you're facing down a fascist, you can't fret so much about your personal karma. You've got to hit hard and damn the consequences, because a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

Really, wicca is the wrong approach for a job like this. Wicca is nice-nice magic. Wicca is for girls.

I think we need something stronger, like Enochian magic. This system was devised by John Dee (mage to Elizabeth I and likely inspiration for Prospero in The Tempest) working in tandem with Edward Kelly, a fascinating rascal who may also be the secret creator of the Voynich Manuscript.

According to Dee, the mightiest of devils is Choronzon, the Dweller in the Abyss, The Demon of Dispersion; his sigil is to the left. Aleister Crowley and his assistant Victor Neuberg (a poet associated with Dylan Thomas) summoned Choronzon in a famous rite conducted in 1909, outside the desert town of Bou Saada in Algeria.

Crowley and Neuberg gave contradictory accounts of what actually happened that night in the desert. I've lost my copy of Jean Overton Fuller's biography of Neuberg, so I can only give you AC's side of the story. (And yes, his friends did call him AC -- although, as Neuberg discovered, he was sometimes AC-DC.)

It is said that Crowley decided not to go the conventional route and stand within a protective circle while he brought the demon the physical appearance. Instead, he stood within the triangle of evocation in order to call Choronzon into himself. Three pigeons were sacrificed, their blood coming to rest entirely within the triangle. This was important: If a single drop of blood had spilled outside that triangle, the power of Choronzon might be unleashed upon the entire planet.

After a few introductory rites, Crowley said the words ZAZAS ZAZAS NASATANADA ZAZAS. This phrase opens the gates of Hell, but only if pronounced correctly. Since Enochian pronunciation operates according to very strange rules, don't presume that you can do it. (Actually, there are differing opinions, since Dee gave two separate sets of instructions which do not agree.)

Of course I know the proper pronunciation. (Hint: ZAZAS is a five syllable word.) No, I'm not going to tell you. You might turn your local fast food restaurant into a entrance to Hell, and where will we be then?

Choronzon appeared, at first, in the guise of a hooker Neuberg knew in Paris. (The frog-like Victor Neuberg was still a virgin when he took up with Crowley, so Crowley had arranged for him to get laid. Naturally, Neuberg thought he was in love.) The demon then became an old man, a snake, and then a nearly formless entity. None of these could coax Neuberg out of the circle.

The words of Choronzon were these:

I am I! From me come leprosy and pox and plague and cancer and cholera and the falling sickness. Ah! I will reach up to the knees of the Most High, and tear his phallus with my teeth, and I will bray his testicles in a mortar, and make poison thereof, to slay the sons of men.

In other words, Neuberg and Crowley had summoned Steve Bannon.

Oh. My. God.

Of course. It's obvious. Suddenly, everything is clear.

I think we're in the situation we're in right now because some overly-ambitious would-be mage has already attempted the Choronzon ritual. The damned fool let pigeon blood spill outside the triangle of evocation, thereby plunging the entire world into chaos!

Everyone, please refrain from conducting any future rites until you've checked in with me, because the planet simply cannot tolerate many more of these screw-ups. I may not actually believe in this stuff, but at least I know how to do the research.