A clarification.

To Whom It May Concern,

I understand how it looks. Truly, I do. I only meant to explore the new city centre library on my way home, and not to spend an hour and a half in their giant red armchair with my feet up. You know how it is. These places are dangerous. You know you should pick up the scholarly Ron Hutton volume, but something else catches your eye, you flick through it and you become engrossed, and then you can't put it down until you've read the whole thing.

You're a regular attendee at the Moot I organise, and as I understand it you're looking forwards to the talk I'm going to give next month - the one on Vodou magic in theory and practice. I would like to assure you that I'd already finished writing my talk when you came over to say hello. Honestly. The printout was right there in that folder I had on my lap.

The fact I was reading "The Idiot's Guide to Voodoo" at the time is neither here nor there.

Thank you for your kind attention.

Love,
Nagini.

If the Loa spoke Internet...

Legba – FIRST!!!

Anaisa Pye – WIN

Erzulie ge Rouge – FAIL

Ogoun Feray – Pwned!

Ogoun Badagris – All your base are belong to us.

Met Kalfu – STFU, n00b.

Baron Cimitiere – I are serious Loa. This are serious thread.

Gede - I can has cheezburger?

Baron Samedi – im in ur base killin ur d00dz.



I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry.

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?

Brav Gede is a bad, naughty man.

Or, "Lies Make Baby Ti-Mazaka Cry"

Except that they don't; they make him giggle.

For the last two nights running I've had dreams involving the Loa. Wednesday night it was Badagris, and last night Brav Gede turned up with some sage words for the fet in which I'm participating on Sunday afternoon. At one point he gave me a vision of a piece of French pastry engineering with feathers and decorations that looked like part of a costume from Moulin Rouge and tried to persuade me that his brother Gede Fatras "likes girlie stuff. All fussy cakes." No, Brav, he doesn't. He really doesn't. Monsieur Gede, j'accuse. Later on he laughed uproariously and gave me instructions for a wanga to do with my house, but when I woke up I couldn't for the life of me remember it.

Incidentally, am I the only one who thinks there's a distinct physical resemblance between Brav Gede and the comedian Chris Rock? Its those intense, burning eyes and the slightly screwed-up facial expressions. And of course, Chris Rock could read out his grocery list and it would be funny. Something about his voice just creases me up.

The obligatory Gede pun.

Oshun is in my drawers.

No, seriously. I'm having a Gede Fatras-style clearout of all the old random crap in my house, merrily tossing things into black binbags (or as merrily as Fatras ever gets, anyway), and I'm starting with the chest of drawers in my bedroom. Honestly, why did I ever think I'd need a million and a half shampoo bottles from hotel rooms? To say nothing of the bits and pieces from Christmas stockings past that have been languishing unused for many years. I have, however, found in my explorations a rather nice red velvet evening scarf that I'd forgotten I owned. Result!

To return to my original subject, I like to put a big piece of wrapping paper in the bottom of the drawers and sprinkle it with perfume before packing it full once more. Last time had a clearout I used Rose Croix by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab. This time I'm using Oshun, by Conjure Oils.

Mmm. Pumpkinny.

Nagini's Random Vodou Observations, #526

Serving Erzulie ge Rouge will result in unexplainable cuts appearing on your fingertips.

Florida water REALLY HURTS when it gets into the unexplainable cuts appearing on your fingertips.