And, apparently, having called their bluff they changed their mind. The exorcism is back on. This is the one and only time that they get to pull this shit. I am so pissed that I can’t refer this case to Tangina.

So, apparently, the demon’s nightmares were so bad that she managed to convince her husband to cancel the free trip to the scenic Hudson Valley so that she doesn’t have to face me and go through with the exorcism. One of our team members is going to talk to the husband a final time tonight before we cancel the tickets and completely cut off contact with these folks. But between you and me, I hope that they’re passing my pic around on the Other Side whispering about how you do not fuck with this dude. Or even better passing Dionysos’ pic around, because I’m well aware that there ain’t nothing to fear about me without him. (Especially since I’m still recovering from the flu and feel so bad I can’t even give the half dozen emails in my inbox the attention they deserve.) The only annoying part is that I had more things I wanted to say about demons, and exorcisms, and their tactics and this case was proving very convenient for that; but I guess I’ll just have to start a new series here, which I think I’m gonna call Demon Busters, Inc. Be well, and remember: no matter how terrifying they seem, demons are just predatory filth and terrified little bitches at heart. Stand up to them with full love and faith in your Gods, and you got nothing to fear, in this world or the next.  

This year for Mōdranicht our household has decided to have a discussion exploring what virtues make for a woman of valor. I would like to extend this to all of y’all. Give me a list of your top 5 virtues. The best answers posted below will be read before our Dísir/Matronae shrine.  

With my whole household having the megaflu this last week, there has been very little joy in my life. However we just got off a phone call with the demoniac and her husband that turned everything around for me.

Apparently she’s been having a recurring dream which finally ended when “a voice from on high” spoke to her and told her that “everything’s cool, God’s got it covered, and we don’t need to go forward with the exorcism.”

I somehow managed not to scream “bullshit, BULLSHIT, buLLshIT” and instead said, “So, what had you been dreaming about before the incident with the voice?” And the demoniac proceeded to describe me performing the exorcism against it.

That’s right, bitches. I am what demons have nightmares about.

Muahahaha *cough cough* hahaha.

Obviously I know I am not. If it fears anything it fears the God who works through me, and I agree: Dionysos is fucking terrifying. But when you’ve had a week as shitty as mine has been, you’ve got to find humor wherever you can. 

As we promised the clients we would, we just did some divination with the Judeo-Christian pantheon and, unsurprisingly, the results were in stark contradiction to the message the demoniac received. We emailed the results, and now we wait to see if the man is going to trust his wife or a bunch of near total strangers. 

Hmm… I wonder if I should keep that week in January open? What do y’all think? 

What really sickens me isn’t the flu, or the incompetence of the Catholic Church, or any of the rest of the shit in my last post; it’s that I staggered down the stairs this morning and after sweet endearments and an update on her condition, the first thing my beloved wife told me was that 15 Jews were massacred in Australia while celebrating the first day of Ḥănukkā, and New York and California, based on the intel they’ve received, are on high alert for copycats. As all the Pro-Philistine rioters were chanting for the last two years, the intifada is indeed being globalized.

Amalek is no doubt quite pleased by this. As is Sarenth “Jew-hater” Schneider. (This oath-breaker and níðingr does not deserve to be called a son of Óðinn.) Sarenth may try and say that posts like this aren’t repeating age old anti-Jewish libels or advocating for the annihilation of the state of Israel and liquidation of its population (though they so obviously are) and instead claim that he opposes the suffering of the poor and oppressed the whole world over, which is patently false. Like most leftists Sarenth frequently posts jeremiads about the pretendicide in Φυλιστία (which the Romans renamed  Palæstina and nobody has considered a state until recently, not even the Ottomans) but is completely silent about the nightmarishly brutal atrocities that have been occurring for decades in the Sudan. Or Mayanmar. Or Colombia. Etc. Etc. In fact his post was late enough that you could tell Sarenth was waiting to make sure it wouldn’t cost him the pats on the head from his leftist chums he so desperately craves to reveal the depth of his antisemitism; on the contrary, it probably gained him even more. 

But enough about this meŝugenā for now (Later I intend to tear apart an even more offensive blog post of his, if that’s possible.) Now it is time to turn our prayers to the recovery of the 40+ celebrants who are currently being treated in hospitals throughout Sydney and grieving those who died like their ancestors that so bravely resisted the Seleukid tyrant Antiochos IV Epimanēs.

אבל: יִתְגַּדַּל וְיִתְקַדַּשׁ שְׁמֵהּ רַבָּא. [קהל: אמן]
בְּעָלְמָא דִּי בְרָא כִרְעוּתֵהּ וְיַמְלִיךְ מַלְכוּתֵהּ בְּחַיֵּיכון וּבְיומֵיכון וּבְחַיֵּי דְכָל בֵּית יִשרָאֵל בַּעֲגָלָא וּבִזְמַן קָרִיב, וְאִמְרוּ אָמֵן: [קהל: אמן]
קהל ואבל: יְהֵא שְׁמֵהּ רַבָּא מְבָרַךְ לְעָלַם וּלְעָלְמֵי עָלְמַיָּא:
אבל: יִתְבָּרַךְ וְיִשְׁתַּבַּח וְיִתְפָּאַר וְיִתְרומַם וְיִתְנַשּא וְיִתְהַדָּר וְיִתְעַלֶּה וְיִתְהַלָּל שְׁמֵהּ דְּקֻדְשָׁא. בְּרִיךְ הוּא. [קהל: בריך הוא:]
לְעֵלָּא מִן כָּל בִּרְכָתָא בעשי”ת: לְעֵלָּא לְעֵלָּא מִכָּל וְשִׁירָתָא תֻּשְׁבְּחָתָא וְנֶחֱמָתָא דַּאֲמִירָן בְּעָלְמָא. וְאִמְרוּ אָמֵן: [קהל: אמן]
יְהֵא שְׁלָמָא רַבָּא מִן שְׁמַיָּא וְחַיִּים עָלֵינוּ וְעַל כָּל יִשרָאֵל. וְאִמְרוּ אָמֵן: [קהל:אמן]
עושה שָׁלום בעשי”ת: הַשָּׁלום בִּמְרומָיו הוּא יַעֲשה שָׁלום עָלֵינוּ וְעַל כָּל יִשרָאֵל וְאִמְרוּ אָמֵן: [קהל: אמן]

Glorified and sanctified be God’s great name throughout the world
which He has created according to His will.

May He establish His kingdom in your lifetime and during your days,
and within the life of the entire House of Israel, speedily and soon;
and say, Amen.

May His great name be blessed forever and to all eternity.

Blessed and praised, glorified and exalted, extolled and honored,
adored and lauded be the name of the Holy One, blessed be He,
beyond all the blessings and hymns, praises and consolations that
are ever spoken in the world; and say, Amen.

May there be abundant peace from heaven, and life, for us
and for all Israel; and say, Amen.

He who creates peace in His celestial heights,
may He create peace for us and for all Israel;
and say, Amen.

My household has spent the last week fending off symptoms from about three strains of influenza. I find this awfully suspicious since 1) I don’t get sick, or if I do I kick it within 48 hours (Covid included) 2) the demoniac in Washington we are helping in January is acting strangely, pushing against boundaries, challenging prescriptions such as the handful of Christian prayers we have her and her hubby reciting daily and having second thoughts about the whole process even though we’ve booked their flight and hotel at considerable personal expense which our household simply does not have (but they are friends of a friend, so we scrimped and sacrificed to find it) and 3) at least one of the entities harassing her is a  spirit of illness with an overinflated sense of self. This is why I haven’t posted in all this time, even though I had two more parts planned in the story of my first exorcism, and owe a couple people responses in the brilliant conversations we were having. The only thing stopping me from saying fuck it all and calling this whole exorcism off is I know that that’s exactly what these spirits want.

Remember how I said that “Pedro” made many small errors and one fucking huge one; well, his “diagnosis” was that there was a single demon who was externally harassing/obsessing her, hence his decision to lay hands on her and babble like an imbecile under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost. God damn it, I wish they would read their fucking Bible. While the pneuma hagion bestows many gifts, all the demons in the New Testament are driven off through the power of Christ’s name. Denial of the different personalities and functions of the Trinity is Modalism, Patrick. 

I don’t blame the couple for not knowing this (though it’s annoying that they persist in arguing with me when I have carefully answered their questions and explained the intricacies of exorcism to them multiple times) what chaps my ass is that “Pedro” was referred to them by the Catholic Church. Apparently he doesn’t just work with their local parish, but is the go-to guy for most of the parishes in southern Washington. The demoniac in particular uses this to counter my arguments. If I hear But “Pedro” said … one more time, I’m gonna reach through the phone and start slapping the bitch.

Like I said in my initial post there are a lot of reasons why I should not be the one performing this exorcism, foremost among them being the fact that I profoundly dislike this couple (for reasons I’m not going to go into here.) Of course I don’t have to like them; my hatred of the demonic is more than sufficient, and my desire to see the demoniac liberated from the subjugation of these two spirits (one of which is possessing her, the other harassing her) trumps any stupid personal shit we might have. Besides, it’s not like there’s anyone else they could be referred to. I already tried the fucking Catholics. Maybe I can have him hog-tie her and drop her off at the gates of that Shinto temple in the area? Even better, are there any Bön practitioners in Washington? Oh, I can just imagine how they would respond to But “Pedro” said …

I was not expecting all of the positive feedback that my last post received. Not only did we have some really great conversations here at the House of Vines until WordPress cut us off, but I got close to a dozen emails from folks who were brave enough to share their own encounters with the less pleasant side of the spirit world, and their surprise and horror at the increasing frequency of such things. 

Although I accepted this position from Dionysos midway through my two year hiatus from blogging, this is not something new for me. During a recent conversation with the husband of the woman I will be treating early next year he asked me point blank how many of these I have done.

As I had explained to him earlier in the phone call that there are a wide range of entities that fall under the category of δαίμων (and that this is true even of the Christian conception which has a much narrower semantic range) there is a large family of ritual procedures which are included under the ἐξορκισμός classification. This is especially true if one does away with the distinction between a ceremony of deliverance (ἀπολύτρωσις, which releases one from external harassment, assault, or manipulation) and exorcism proper (which is when the spirit is cast out of the individual, and bound or banished.)

I explained to him that I have participated in six or seven exorcisms, and at least twice as many deliverances during my time as a religious specialist, and that the first one occurred when I was a teenager, a couple years after I had begun dabbling in Wicca. He did not seem impressed. 

And between you and me, I do not blame the man one bit. If you do not know anything about the subject (and he is completely ignorant, beyond what he has experienced with his wife) that is a worryingly thin body of experience to entrust the physical and spiritual well-being of your beloved spouse to. Instead of answering I asked him point blank about his feelings, and specifically the ones stirred up by this whole situation (and tried not to grin as he fumbled to find his words, which made me realize no one had probably asked that of him this whole time, which made the grin disappear entirely.)

What I would have told him if I believed he was in a state to comprehend such theoretical matters is that the Non-Denominational Charismatic Evangelical faith healer his local Catholic parish referred him to (no, I am not kidding) may have a higher body count than I but 1) it is probably the result of combining the two, 2) I seriously doubt that his discernment is good enough to distinguish between the different types of predatory spiritual entities, let alone an actual spiritual entity versus something which his church disapproves of such as homosexuality or feminism, and 3) when I perform an exorcism or deliverance rite the entity stays gone.

Within a week of “Pedro” (as we shall call the minister) doing his shtick all the manifestations had returned with a vengeance, only the possessed woman could now claim that she felt the spirit was gone, which made her husband reluctant to put her through more mumbo jumbo. He is a nominal Christian (one of those “spiritual but not religious” types) and has told me several times that he does not really believe in any of this stuff. If I had not succeeded in doing a healing on his wife using Jewish magic and diagnosing an issue with his heart that his doctors had missed or rather failed to notify him of, as it had come up in a physical he had gotten 2 years ago and they just did not feel it was worth mentioning (it is, as Dionysos told me he will be dead in 3 years if he does not seek treatment for it) I probably would not have been able to convince him to contact his local parish to examine her so that they could get the process started for gaining approval from the Church hierarchy to have someone with the proper training and qualifications sent out to perform an exorcism on her. I should have been concerned when I heard that approval had been given in a matter of weeks and not years; I just assumed that since I was doing nightly petitions to Dionysos this was some kind of Bacchic miracle. It certainly did not occur to me that they were bringing in an independent contractor, and a non-denominational Protestant at that. 

Now, as many issues as I have with the Catholic Church (and you can guess from the above that I have plenty, and they are not your standard objections) there are some things that they do get right. For instance they have a 2,000 year unbroken lineage stretching back to Jesus choosing Saint Peter as his successor. (Most Protestant churches are lucky if they have a decade under their belt, and are constantly changing things around because novelty keeps the audience interested.) As a result of that lineage one of the things I admire about them is the efficacy of their exorcisms. And yet until recently a post-Tridentine Catholic exorcist who had performed as many exorcisms as I have by the time he was my age would have been a rarity; certainly most of the ones who have written books on the subject did not exceed that number until later in their career. I say “until recently” because that is changing, sadly for three very dumb reasons: 1) the demand for exorcisms is increasing, 2) the number of exorcists is declining, as they either age out or get shuffled around to different ecclesiastical positions and 3) the efficacy of the Rite of Exorcism is declining, either due to poor training or because one of the things they draw on is the power of the Catholic Church which has become a hotbed of every vice and heresy known to man. 

I suspect that my number would be higher if I had started out as a properly trained exorcist. After I realized that Wicca was not for me I became a magician, then a Dionysian, then a Hellenic polytheist, then a Greco-Egyptian polytheist, then a Dionysian again, then I founded the Starry Bull tradition, and finally I became an Orpheotelest within that tradition. Fundamentally Orpheotelestai are spiritual trouble-shooters and I have spent most of my time since gaining the title as a community organizer, ritualist, teacher, initiator, diviner, poet, researcher, and jack-of-all-trades devising solutions for whatever crazy situation comes across my desk. I suspect that this is going to remain my primary function as an Orpheotelest but about 6-8 months before I started my hiatus Dionysos informed me that I had been drafted into the war he was waging against the wicked spirits who had allied with the unmaker.

He did not bother going into the how, which is why I spent some time trying to do it through blogging and other online activity. That was not what he intended. When I pieced that together through prayer, reason, and divination I began to study and search for others I might recruit. Failing at the latter I boarded up the House of Vines and devoted myself full-time to research and practice, and now have a whole system of spiritual warfare for the Starry Bull tradition, including a collection of exorcism and deliverance rites.

One of the reasons why there are considerably more deliverance rites than exorcisms to my tally is that I like to solve things before they become a problem. There are different levels of spiritual harassment, all of them external, which can be countered through deliverance. Once the spirit is inside the victim exorcism is called for, and there are different stages of possession. (I will go more in depth into this later.)

Under normal circumstances the fuck-ups of the Catholic Church and Pedro (I will save his incompetencies for a separate post, but let’s just say that for starters he missed something really fucking huge and important, which is why this fell into my lap) could have been seriously problematic, as time is of the essence and can make all the difference in the level or stage the situation has reached by the time the ritual specialist steps on the scene. I am not concerned, however, and that is not because I believe I am a superhero with crazy mad skillz. On the contrary it is only because Dionysos has expressed his belief that I can do this that I possess a hope in hell of actually doing it. 

Which is amusing as that is exactly how I felt all those years ago with my first exorcism, except that I thought that Dionysos was the Green Man. The victim was a friend of mine whom I met after my mother showed me a picture of her class in which he was wearing a pentagram t-shirt. We used to go to Seattle together, as they had much better Pagan/Occult bookstores than the small town we were from, we researched local folklore and went on adventures, and he turned me on to Moby and KMFDM. There was a summer that he practically lived at our place, because his parents were in the process of getting a divorce and he did not want to spend time with either of them. For a graduation present his mother and new step-father bought him a motor-home, and I saw less and less of him until the friendship had withered on the vine.   

I was surprised, therefore, when he called me up out of the blue one night, and asked if I was still into that Wicca shit. I explained that my belief and practices had evolved, and he interrupted me, explaining that he was in a really bad situation. With the intensity of someone having a manic episode he explained that he had fallen afoul of a Black Coven which had not only cursed him multiple times but had conjured a Demon Prince which had tormented him until he conjured a Demon King which jumped from the triangle of summoning straight into him, and he wondered if I could do anything to help. 

Fucking great, I thought. My old mate is either schizophrenic or on meth. 

Either way I agreed to make an attempt to help before calling the authorities, and headed over to his mother’s place where he was parked so that he could use her electricity. 

I was met with the barrel of a gun pointing out the broken screen window and him screaming, “Who are you? If you’re a cop you have to tell me!”

I explained who I was, and that he had called me over. He had no memory of that, but invited me inside. A bouquet of stale beer and marijuana, decomposing matter and mold hit me as I opened the door, and stepped carefully over the pile of cans and fast food wrappers until I reached the fold-out table where he was sitting. 

“It’s been ages,” he said as I sat down. Then, “You weren’t followed, were you? The witches can turn themselves into birds, you know?”

I assured him that I did, to which he said, “Good. Good. Beelzebub wants to eat your liver.”

I sat with that a moment, and then said, “But you won’t let him, will you?”

“No, man. We’re friends forever.”

Every instinct in my body was screaming to get the hell out of there, especially after how he emphasized forever, but I forced myself to stay put and we caught up for the next couple hours. By that point he was calm enough that I felt comfortable taking out some of my ritual supplies.  

“Please help me, Jeremiah.” He said in a voice that only partially sounded like him. “Please, please, please.”

“Lock up the gun, and we’ll begin.”

And now here I am. There is no normal when it comes to exorcisms. Each one is different, and each one could be your last. If you are arrogant enough to think otherwise, you have no business doing this. I also believe that I have Dionysos at my back, and that it is only through him that this is possible. And that belief is stronger than any doubts or fears I could ever have.  

οὐδὲν ἄρα οὕτως βεβαίως δεδήσεται, οὐ νόσῳ, οὐκ ὀργῇ, οὐ τύχῃ οὐδεμιᾷ, ὃ μὴ οἷόν τ᾽ ἔσται λῦσαι τῷ Διονύσῳ.

Nothing can be so firmly bound – by illness, wrath or fortune – that cannot be released by [the Lord] Dionysos.

This — yeah, it’s a pipe dream. I have no delusions about my prospects, but it is fun to imagine what I could have created for Dionysos, if I hadn’t listened to Dionysos and become what he wanted me to be. And I am also aware of the irony of that, but it doesn’t stop the sting when I watch someone’s perception of me plummet, or when I hear fear and concern creep into an old friend’s voice and know that we won’t ever talk again. The best part is the confusion — “how can he be this smart and yet so clearly delusional? This guy actually believes that he’s fighting demons.” 

And I am, as well as a random assortment of spirits, ghosts and various malignant entities. 

It’s just weird. I mean people who stuck by me through all the abrupt and seemingly random divergences in my practice, founding and dissolving group after group, my exploration of the more fringe elements of Dionysianism, all the community squabbles and controversies, and even the reputation-destroying Nazi slur; that they could handle, and promise to always have my back. But tell them that I’m studying to become an exorcist and I’ve crossed some invisible line and they put as much distance between myself and them as possible, lest my unfortunate condition prove contagious. 

What makes it even weirder for me is that most of these people are polytheists, or at least some kind of neopagan. They have no problem accepting the existence of a plurality of Gods, ancestors, land-spirits, the Fair Folk, mythological creatures, and even angels. 

But beings who have a predatory and harmful relationship to mankind, or worse oppose the divine order of things? Now that’s fucking nuts!

Even though every single folkway, and all the major world religions to boot, not only include such beings as part of their weltanschauung but possess prayers, incantations, amulets and other apotropaica, ceremonies and superstitions intended to avert, harm or banish them. Many are woven into the rituals, customs and festivals we faithfully reconstruct, observe and pass on, whether we recognize it or not. In the past we had priests, healers, shamans, magicians and charismatic holy men and women who were tasked with protecting their communities and fighting off these malefactors. 

Tell them that your God has drafted you into the war against these things and folks will laugh; suggest you’re becoming a Christian; question your discernment, sensitivity, and divinatory skill; question your sanity; and come up with alternative explanations no matter how pseudo-scientific and improbable just as long as there’s no mention of the d-word. 

I’ve learned not to share this part of my life with such people, which means that I have less and less to talk about with them, which usually results in the friendship drying up and dying off. 

Frankly, I’m surprised that I have any readers left, especially after the kind of stuff I’ve been posting. In case you were wondering that isn’t going to change, except that I’m going to be discussing it more often and more candidly. I’m going to be talking about my practice and techniques, the different stages from obsession and harassment to possession, past and current cases, spiritual taxonomies and how my theological and philosophical beliefs have adapted to accommodate the things I’ve seen and experienced. It’s not all that the House of Vines is going to be about, but I’m not hiding it or carefully couching it in palatable and inoffensive vagaries any longer. 

And there are a number of things that have prompted this. Outside of my household I don’t really have anyone I can discuss this with. Most of the time that doesn’t really bother me; I’m pretty good at taking things in stride, and we work damn well together, and often analyze and strategize about cases. 

But then there are cases like the one I’m working now which involves a couple in the Pacific Northwest. For a number of reasons I should not be the exorcist handling this one. I even tried pawning it off on the Catholic church (especially since the clients are Christian) but they handled it so incompetently that it’s now an even bigger mess than when the couple was referred to me. (They also contacted a shaman before me who was going to charge them an arm and a leg to do some Harner bullshit. The guy is ex-military and ex-police so there was no fucking way I was going to let them get taken advantage of like that, which is how I inherited the case.) What frustrates me is that I have no outside colleagues that I can either consult with or refer them to, on either the West or East coasts or anywhere in between. And so I’m going to deal with my frustrations by posting here. Hopefully you’ll find it educational. 

I knew that this would be a very challenging and taxing vocation when Dionysos presented it to me. I expected that would be on the physical, psychological and spiritual levels. But I think the hardest part has been the loneliness. However that is a small price to pay to be able to help people who are in crisis situations.  

During my time away from the House of Vines I worked on codifying the Starry Bull tradition, specifically coming up with the different Grades and the six Ways. A lot of this draws on previous iterations, but is more clearly demarcated and fleshed out, so should avoid previous issues our cult has run into in the past. 

I am still working on the hymns, prayers and incantations of the Hymnōdai (ὑμνῳδαί), which is a kind of monastic Bacchic Orphism. When I am finished I will have what amounts to a Bible for the White Way called Holy Words which will contain the essentials of this branch of the tradition. This book is only given to the Hymnodos after they have successfully completed the first initiation. (In its full form; I will be making a carefully redacted version available to the public.) In addition to daily rituals that have to be performed, a greater number of taboos to observe, etc. Hymnōdai must be familiar with matters of lore and able to offer exegesis, and after they have undergone the first initiation of the White Way there is a strong focus on linguistic magic, specifically the power of words to create and destroy, heal and afflict, bind and set free. If one is both an Orpheotelest and a Hymnodos one can train to be an ἐξορκιστής (exorcist) culminating in the second of the White Way initiations. So essentially the Hymnōdai are our tradition’s equivalent of the Babylonian Āšipu, Egyptian Kheri-ḥꜣb, South Italian Pythagorean and Jewish Mekubbāl. 

Ironically (or perhaps not) my practice had been morphing into something like what the White Way has become even before I shuttered the House of Vines, as far back as when I decommissioned the Bakcheion and reconverted the space into my shrine-filled office, complete with tables for divination and magical operations. In fact, without intending to I set up a shrine to Dionysos of the White Way, distinct from the shrines for Dionysos Bakcheios, Lusios, and Asterios, as well as the collective shrine for the Dionysian Retinue. At first it was just a practical thing; I was doing a lot of study and writing, and I wanted to have a shrine handy so that I could honor him and make offerings while at my desk without having to get out of my comfy computer chair and walk over to one of the other shrines to burn some more incense or pour out another libation, as I tend to do that a lot while working, either out of gratitude or from a desire for inspiration or protection. But as I began fleshing out the White Way the shrine developed a personality of its own, and now I make offerings there particularly when matters pertaining to that branch of the tradition come up. 

Although Holy Words will serve primarily as a guide to the White Way (including its own calendrical system and set of observances) it will also contain material from the other Ways of the Starry Bull tradition so that the Hymnodos is familiar enough with them that they can counsel Xenoi and Philoi (higher grades will be studying under an Orpheotelest, whom they can direct their questions to, and of course there will be Mystai of the various Ways who are even better positioned to provide answers, so long as doing so does not violate their oaths or betray and profane the Mysteries.)

This creates a clear divide between οἰ ἔξω (those without) and οἰ ἔσω (those within) and maintains tight control over the dissemination of information. Having taken a couple classes and hanging out in our Discord does not authorize one to speak about the Starry Bull tradition; that is reserved for Whites only. And Orpheotelestai, of course, who not only outrank them, but act both as teachers and itinerant religious specialists who serve both our community and outside clients.

Those of the White Way are masters of lore, however, and tradition trumps all so their opinion should be respected, even if one must defer to an Orpheotelest. (And one must.) If both are Orpheotelestai we take it to mantikē (divination), as this is a living faith and the Gods supersede even tradition itself. Anyone can share their personal experiences or proffer their opinion for consideration; that just isn’t worth two oboloi when it comes to the Starry Bull tradition, especially if they are οἰ ἔξω. Which is why training in the White Way will be among the most difficult and demanding in the tradition. 

However their primary function will remain the οιδή (singing) of ὕμνοι (songs of praise for the Gods and spirits) per their name, as well as the recitation of prayers and making sacrifices on behalf of the community. Towards that end they must cultivate knowledge, piety and righteousness, so that their words contain greater than normal potency. 

I don’t recall if I’ve posted any of this batch of prayers before, but with Thanksgiving coming up it seemed appropriate to share them. Be well, have fun, enjoy good food and conversation, be mindful and appreciative of the blessings of the Gods, and don’t let the bastards divide us. 

May the son of Zeus
bring protection to this home.
May the husband of Ariadnē
bring passion to this home.
May the father of Charis
bring peace to this home.
May the brother of Hermēs
bring prosperity to this home,
this day and all days,
this night and all nights!

Dionysos Patrōos,
whose home is harmonious
and family flourishing,
we seek your wisdom and guidance
as we make decisions that affect our household.
Help us to make choices that honor you
and are in accordance with your principles,
and may we always have the best interests
of our loved ones in mind,
and behave towards them
with integrity, trust and compassion.

O Dionysos Phyletikos,
grant that I remain faithful
to all of my responsibilities,
never shirking those duties
to family, friend, and community
which are your special concern.
O Dionysos Skoidos,
help me to see my home
as a temple to the Gods,
and everything done in it
as a holy service.
O Dionysos Dikaios,
may my life be clean, and orderly,
and all of my interactions
with people filled with
kindness, understanding,
and righteousness.
O Dionysos Tritopatōr,
may I treat my loved ones respectfully
and always demonstrate
concern for their needs,
never violating the commitments I have sworn
or causing another to do likewise.

O Dionysos Dygos, dear God who in distant days
discovered delightful Ariadnē on Dia’s desolate shores,
and carried the fair maiden off to Mount Nysa’s flowery slopes
where you built for your dance-loving queen an amazing dwelling
that became rich with the cries and laughter of your many fine offspring;
I pray, O patient, understanding, and gentle-natured Charoumenos,
that the atmosphere of this home be saturated
with your peace, joy, and grace. Let all deceit,
disrespect, disease and disorder be barred from this place
and instead, O awesome Oikouros, may this home be a sanctuary
where piety, industry, duty, bravery
and other such virtues are encouraged to thrive.

Within thy Holy Heart,
I take refuge, O kindly Kradiaĩos:
do not despise the petitions of your people
in times of trouble, but rescue us from
all dangers, from all disturbances,
and from all doubt that would try
to seep into our hearts which belong to you
fully pure one, thrice-blessed one,
O Dionysos the Deliverer.

Breathe in me,
O Holy Heart of Dionysos,
that my thoughts may all be holy.

Act in me,
O Holy Heart of Dionysos,
that my work, too, may be holy.

Direct my heart,
O Holy Heart of Dionysos,
that I may love what is holy.

Strengthen me,
O Holy Heart of Dionysos,
to defend all that is holy.

Guard me, then,
O Holy Heart of Dionysos,
that I may always be holy.

O Holy Heart of Dionysos,
which emerged undefiled
from the lacerations of the Titans
and the fiery bolts of loudroaring Zeus,
we pray, Inebriating One, sustain and comfort us
in all the trials of this present life, and grant to us at last
fullness of joy, and pleasure for evermore,
through the grafting of our hearts to your Holy Heart,
longsuffering Lord of the Vine.

O ardent Dionysos
to you all hearts are open,
all desires are known,
and from you no secrets are hidden;
so I do not have to fear, or hide, or pretend
to be anything other than what I am around you.
I can worship you with my whole heart,
weird and broken as it is,
holding nothing back,
with nothing to feel shame or guilt about.
I am free, and wild, and fucking insane,
and I am completely yours,
O Holy Heart of my God.

Firstborn Phanēs,
mighty Four-horned God,
Winged One who breathes wind and flame,
you are the light when all around is darkness,
you are the shining Star of the mysteries,
you are the Bull of Heaven who brings rain;
O Dionysos Nyktelios,
pour your illumination into our hearts.
When we cannot see the way before us,
may we continue to put our trust in you,
that under your guidance and protection
we may be kept from stumbling this day,
and through your guidance eventually find our way
to Mount Nysa, domain of orgiastic Iakchos,
and enter into our rest in that flowery meadow,
with the heroes and other blessed initiates
who have wine as their fortunate reward.
O Dionysos Nyktelios,
pour your illumination into our hearts.

Zagreus who hunts by moonlight,
and holds life and death in your hands,
may my heart never rest until it finds you
who are its center, its love,
the only certainty and peace it knows,
and source of boundless, overflowing joy.
Place my fragile, cracked heart
in your own mighty and enduring heart,
so that it may be healed and made whole,
and remain continually under your protection
and guidance. O son of Persephonē
and snake-formed Zeus.
May your compassionate heart
help me make right the wrongs I have done
whether from ignorance,
or irrational, destructive desires,
or the guilt I have inherited
from my wicked ancestors.
And may your holy heart cleanse the rest of my heart
so that I may persevere in doing good
and in fleeing evil until my final breath,
and please, I pray, pour your intoxicating
inspiration into my heart, you who walk
through the crowd of celebrants with snakes
draped over your shoulders, delighting
in their passionate veneration. Along with
inspiration, I implore you, pour some
of the pain of your indestructible heart
into my heart, O Suffering God, so that I
may carry some of it for you,
even if it is only a small amount,
for your burden is great indeed,
redeemer and restorer of mankind,
perpetual sacrifice poured out
so that the Gods may grant us
grace in abundance.