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Subscribe to this list via RSS Blog posts tagged in witches sabbat

Posted by on in Culture Blogs
"Just Like in the Woodcuts"

Our chant begins low and slow, but soon we are shouting, frenzied.

Horned One! Horned One! Horned One!

From the woods, a horn rings out. Another joins it, nearing, and another.

We call, He comes.

In the moving torchlight, He shines. Borne high, He stands astride, arms raised. His horns reach up to heaven.

At a run, His bearers cross the final slope and enter our midst, bringing Him in. He steps, precisely, from palanquin to altar. The drums fall silent.

In the sudden stillness, He scans our fire-lit faces. Between His antlers, constellations revolve.

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs
The Old Blood Calls

The Sabbat is the true paradise...where there is more joy than I can express. Those who go there find the time too short because of the pleasure and happiness they enjoy and, having once been there, they will long with a raging desire [un désire enragé] to go and be there again.

(Jeanne Dibason, 1630)

 

The Old Blood calls.

The Sabbat: the ecstatic adoration of the incarnate Horned God, the witch's True Paradise.

For nearly 25 years, the Midwest Tribe of Witches has gathered regularly—at the requisite irregular intervals—in immemorial Grand Sabbat.

Plans for Grand Sabbat 2018 are already under way.

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs
Blood Sabbat

I have seen him stretch out his naked limbs on the altar.

I have seen.

I have seen the flash of blades descending.

I have cried out.

I have anointed my brow with his blood.

I have mourned with the others.

I have eaten the red bread and drunk the red drink.

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs
Flight to the Sabbat

My Kemetic Reconstructionist friend was newly back from his long-awaited trip to Egypt.

He was furious.

“Damn those security guards!” he growled. “Any time I tried to do anything, they'd stop me! Rrr!”

While not uniquely a pagan problem, it is a distinctly pagan problem nonetheless. With our holy places in the hands of the jealous, what to do?

We discussed the situation. My suggestion was that next time, he make the offering in his head. On the astral, so to speak.

The security guard sees an American tourist standing there impassively.

Meanwhile, the old gods receive their due service.

Ideally, the inner offering should always accompany the outer. But better one than neither.

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs
Teufelsrübe

 New this year at Black Mountain Seeds:

Giant German All-Black Turnip (Brassica rapa pernigra)

Long believed extinct, this legendary heirloom turnip from the Harz mountains in Germany has long been prized by cognoscenti for its sumptuous all-black flesh. 

Yes, unlike other so-called "black" turnips, the German All-Black has sweet, meaty flesh that is just as black as its skin! 

Just think: no more need to laboriously stain those turnip slices with expensive, carcinogenic dyes! Just slice and serve. (The skin is so tender, you won't even need to peel 'em.) No messy clean-up either.

These cylindrical, pleasingly phallic roots (up to 13" in length) will make prepping for your next Black Mass fiendishly easy. 

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs
Meeting Maenads

Well, I can truly say that I've met the maenads now.

It was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life.

Let's do it again.

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  • Michele
    Michele says #
    Yes, let's do it again! The sooner the better!

Posted by on in Culture Blogs
Man in Black

 

Know him

by the crow's feather

in his cap.

 

"I am the man in black,"

he will say.

“Do you know who I am?”

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