Confessions of an American Witch

 Given my multiple month silence on this blog, and its recent birthday, let's do a status update. Khari's Garden with a little grape vine. We are still doing the Garden Parties. Because Khari gets bored without friends and company around. The same reason that she is polyamourous---and I am not. All my events have been killed, and with good reason . . . a colon test came back bad, so I have a physical health problem on top of the mental ones. Oh, and me blogging about my secret Mormon daughter and wife for the first time in 22 years was me being Paranoid Delusional, according to a newly minted medical doctor who never saw me before, who checked with other expert, who did not speak to me. Took me off the majority of my meds (bipolar and anxiety/panic) and put me on an anti-psychotic that crashed a brick through my sphere of sensation. The proof that I was delusional was that Khari could not verify that my daughter, Zee, existed. Because I had never talked to her, or anyone, about...

In her attempts to get gold stars for her decision to nuke my Mormon wife out of my life, Khari made it clear that she thought I would be a bad father. Announcer, please . . .  How to produce an artistic genius--slide one   "Weighing in at six pounds, six ounces, we have the Riverside Shakespeare . Know the first line to that poem, or song, then this is the book for you--it has the indexes. Heavy, too. Raise a daughter hefting this once a month, and you build Supergirl , able to crush bricks." During my community college years (my 40s), me and another parent of a daughter got exposed to the idea that the way to keep Shakespeare (or any great author) alive in your memory was constant refreshment.  We had a professor who read a Shakespeare play a month. Toss in the Homer and the Milton from the class, and her daughter was sure  to have exposure to classic literature. I know that at least one kid grew up in a more enriched environment, thanks to that idea. I know becaus...

In the official godform creation sheets provided to newly elected Hierophants worldwide, the Forty-Two Assessors of the Judgement are described as "Various Heads and Colors." A papyrus from the times of the Greek-Roman Egyptians . . . good times. Meanwhile, there is that prick who is using this as his source Image Papyrus. With Westcott's Names. Add in a modern translation, and a decent victim, off we go boom! How can you not love this papyrus? Damaged as it is. All dolled up. Maybe used in ritual once or twice.  All in good causes, we swear. Having declared a Mash-Up weekend, where would I get if I do exactly that:  NOM's 42 Judges' Names plus Images=xyz? What direction do we read in?  Osiris, the most important symbol of the setting, telling us to read Left to Right; so we will designate the Leftmost Assessor to be Number One.  And in this papyrus, he has a human-head. As he does in the Papyrus of Ani. Usekh-nemtet, you are good to go, as soon as we figure out t...

While I would love to allow the natural lack of advertising do my job for me, I know to cover my rear end better than that, so I will make it legitimate by announcing it.  The OFMs are as done as this bench is. The Wiccan Open Full Moon Saturdays that I was trying to establish are a NO GO. Cancelled. Forever. Will not be coming back.  At least not with me present. Because Khari used the words "violent" and "scared." At my doctor's appointment. Not my regular doctor. Still got my meds adjusted . . . not right . . . because I still have anger towards things that Khari insists that she should be getting a free "Get out of Karma" jail card for because it was for my own good; and I would have been miserable working in food service--instead spending time in college, taking out loans, away from my daughter. Unfortunately, her need to ensure that Khari got her Get Karma Jail Free card included the need to insist that any anger I felt was bipolar, or the demon,...

Some people are born farmer's sons in America; some are the nephew of Gardnerian Wiccans--and imagine that in 1965 Nebraska . . . yeah, I was born demonic. My witchy aunt represented America to me. My aunt, Victoria Josephine Ramalia, declared me, a reincarninated witch, just like herself. She hated children--yet loved me. This mystified my mother. I loved my aunt.  One of my prize possessions, the first thing I made sure to recover the one time I returned home for Christmas after my military escape, was my Red Piggy Bank that she gave me. A ruling question of my childhood was "Why can the Christians have their Ten Commandments at the county courthouse; and not us, our Horned God?"  At age thirteen, I consciously chose the religion of witchcraft . . . in part to be like Vickie. Then in my freshman semester of high school, my aunt got murdered.  And my family, in their grief, blamed it on her religion. I got broom closeted. Satanist. That is what my religion became. And my...

While I like to pretend that I am a good guy, a Star Trek type of guy, I am not. A work in progress--nice disguise, right? In reality, if you talk to anyone who knows me, Billie Bones, the Great Gherkin, Catherine Mock, Amy Harper, you know, the people that have banned me under Safe and Sober, he's harming both adults and children, showing up falling down drunk, never once contributed to the community . . . nice, got a screenshot of that Facebook libel and slander . . . I am a dirty Sith, as was my mentor, Maggie Moonstone; and we fought an Open War to destroy their groups, the only communities that should have any say in the future in occultism and paganism. We, Maggie and me, unfairly targeted them with our criticism.  After all, these Holy Leaders can do whatever they want, Do Wilt They Wilt to their communities without informing their membership, including banning spiritual teachers for not kissing their ass well enough at an OFM (Open Full Moon), and cite safety.  The Saf...

Science fiction fans like to talk about how Star Wars changed their lives.  For me, it was Ghostbusters. The Original. It was my first year of freedom away from evil Mother Lilith, and explained my entire world . . . including the fact that my dead dad was my roommate.  Problem was in my movie, my Ghostbusters, it was Denver that got nuked. And I was the Containment Unit that went critical. You see, by 1984, I already hosted a murder victim, my own aunt. As well as several other ghosts. And then there is Wolfgang--what the fuck is he? Let's just call him, a Demon. Moving on, today, I live with a Ghost Wife. Walnut Hill Alchemy might be owned by ghosts. Long story short: For the newer readers, and the More Beloved Sister who once asked "What happened to my sweet innocent Brother?" Here is maybe an answer, or not. My Theosophic Confederate Nazi spirit medium grandparents, one summer, in that "abandoned tree garden," exposed me to a Demon. Nice people, the Ramses. ...

 Spent the day in the studio, watching Khari glaze pottery, listening to music. Much work was done. Much work was not done.  The lazy slacker. Gods and goddesses try not to judge.  There are darker forces to judge mortals by . . . cue Judge Edgar. Because hanging out with Khari is better than me haunting the streets looking for Billy Bones, the Little Drummer Boy--or getting involved with Judge Edgar's Day C business. That looks like someone beat a prisoner--badly--hard--with wood. Judge Edgar has prisoners to be judged as Unworthy to be Leaders. Beware Day C--it comes soon for Judge Edgar. As Khari held her big event, the Star Chamber led by Edgar, might have threaten to beat Pirate Traitor Donald Judas Trumpet to death before wishing him long life in prison with the best health care that the United States could provide. "With no beatings, complete security, 24/7/365 video feed like a zoo." Got to hand it to Chief Justice Edgar, he has an imagination when it comes to dea...