The Vodou Trojan Horse

I'm typing this through a haze of drum and bass soundwaves that are causing everything in my flat to vibrate. I live in the middle floor of a building with three flats, meaning I get noise from both above me (grumpy old man whose washing machine goes into a spin cycle in the early hours of the morning) and downstairs (Burberry-hatted DJ type who sets off fire alarms at 4 am and who plays his music SO GODDAMN LOUD THAT MY REFRIDGERATOR IS ACTUALLY STARTING TO SHAKE).

How does a Vodouisant deal with problems from the neighbours? Of course my first answer is the same one as anybody else would hopefully give as their answer - let them know in a polite but firm manner that ONE MORE BASS LINE MAKING ITS WAY THROUGH MY LIVING ROOM FLOOR AND UP TO MY EARS IS GOING TO RESULT IN SEVERE INJURY FOR HIS STEREO. No, not really. I tried to knock on his door to ask him to turn it down, but he isn't answering. Presumably because he can't hear me above his own din. So, five minutes ago I used a piece of magic I like to refer to as the Vodou version of the Trojan Horse. It's yet to take effect as I doubt he's read the note yet, but let's hope he does so soon.

I wrote my neighbour a note telling him that the soundproofing between our flats isn't particularly effective and asking him to turn the volume down. I then dressed the paper with Bend Over Oil, chanting a little mantra of "not what you will, but what I will" as I smoked it over Baron Samedi's black St Michael candle. I then folded the paper and wrote the number of his flat on the outside, dressing that with more oil for good measure. When dressing names in compelling or domination magic, I put a drop of the oil on my thumb and then literally cross out the name on the paper. If I have the signature of the person that's ideal, but if I don't, then I just write it with any pen I have to hand. It is of course a very basic form of sympathetic magic; symbolically imposing my will on the name of the target.

So why do I call it a Trojan horse? Because people tend to take letters inside their house before they read them. Even if they ignore the notes and put them straight in the bin, the oil is still there is their home; on their hands and their door itself, working away even if it's done from inside a rubbish bin. The magic is there whether they remember the existence of the note or not.

That's actually one of my favourite tricks, and one I gladly pass on to you. It doesn't have to be used just for domination and Bend Over spells; try High John Oil on a memo to your boss before a performance review, for example.

Of course I realise that many people shy away from this type of magic entirely, believing that it's morally and ethically wrong to perform any type of magic which seeks to impose the will of the practitioner on others. That's fine and I appreciate that; but it's not what I believe. I think there's a time, when normal everyday methods fail or just wouldn't work, to use this type of magic. I do however think that overuse of coercive magic is no way to live, especially if it's targeted towards friends or loved ones.

Except if they have a really powerful stereo.

An Oshun Pataki

Although I'm not a Santera, I'm fascinated by the Orisha and by their legends or pataki; particularly those of Oya and Oshun. A friend of mine on the website www.ukpagan.com has recently been asking me about Oshun, so I gave her this pataki.

It's a lovely story about Oshun which says that at one point, she fell on hard times and couldn't afford to feed her children. With nowhere to turn to for money, she became a prostitute. The other Orisha found out about this and were horrified, so they took her children away from her. No child of the spirits was going to be raised by a whore!

Oshun went mad with grief. She went to the river every day and wept for her lost children. She never changed her clothes, and wore the same dress every day for months on end. Eventually her beautiful white gown became yellow with age.

One day the river spirit, Aje-Shaluga, who had watched her crying for the long weeks and months emerged from the water and came to sit beside her on the bank. "Beautiful lady, most loved of the Orisha," he said, "I have heard your grief and tasted your tears as they fall into my waters. The bed of my river is home to gold and jewels, forgotten valuables and trasures. Take them, I beg you, and bring back your children!"

Oshun looked at the handsome river Orisha with his handfuls of gold and shining gemstones, and fell utterly in love. She flung her arms around him and kissed him. There on the riverbank, they pledged their love to each other and made plans to marry. Oshun gratefully took the gold and jewels her fiance offered, and fled to the other Orisha to tell them she was rich once more and that she was to start a new life with the river spirit. They gave her back her children without complaint, and Oshun and her children and Aje-Shaluga lived happily ever after.


Nice, isn't it?