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*puts on goat-horn headdress and snakeskin robe, does high-kickin' Dance of Evil*
A virgin! A virgin! We've found a virrrrrrgin!
(cue maniacal laughter, fade to cut.)
I belive six impossible things before brekfast (copyright the Rev. C. Dodgeson, all rights reserved).
All joking apart, sweet child... we belive all kinds of shinola round 'ere.
Speaking for myself: as a chaote / chaoist / unsavory-character-practicing-Low-Magick-in- defiance-of-all-things-Nice-and-New-Agey, I don't really believe in very much. It doesn't do to go around believing in things- you just give them ideas. At the moment, I'm entertaining the following metabelief: that our perception of reality influences that reality in certain small but important ways, and that we can harness this by using the unconcious mind via meditation, running round in circles till we fall over, or having (ahem) a Quiet Night In with a sigil, if you take my meaning. Or just plain hoovering up drugs till our brains leak out of our noses for all I care.
Pitfalls: getting discouraged because your overambitious sigil is a dud; forgetting that you still have to hold down a job and get the dinner on once you've hung up the ol' wand for the night; your own ego.
Cool stuff: That unforgettable "Hey, this shit really works, dude!" moment.
Anyoldhoo. Get up off your knees, lad; put your cap back on and join the party.
[ 02-08-2001: Message edited by: Mordant Carnival ] |
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