Mania, are you Death’s bride,
womb barren from birthing the vengeance-thirsting Furies,
with wings of leather like the bats that flit across the moonless sky
and coiling snakes for hair, and skin pale as bone
bleached by the summer sun?
Or are you the Mistress of Madness,
staring flame-eyed at things others cannot see,
whispering words sharp and strange which others do not wish to hear
– words that cut both the tongue and the ear –
frail form trembling with the effort
of holding back that which your stygian heart conceals,
that which others could not possibly endure?
“Yes,” she nods, voice hollow and distant and barely audible
above the din of Etruscan myths unspoke.

Here’s something I wrote back when I was maintaining my first website. Some of the details are a little outdated, but in general it still works.

I was having difficulty updating my website, when in desperation; I called out to Kyberia, Goddess of New Technologies and the Computer, promising that I would honor her with a hymn and a libation if she offered me the assistance I so greatly needed. Now this was a Goddess I had only heard spoken of jokingly, and I didn’t expect it to work. Well, to my total shock and considerable pleasure, all of the trouble I had been having ceased and I was able to successfully complete the task. That very night I made my libation to her, and now I have written this hymn in her honor.

I hope that she finds it pleasing – and that she will remember me in the future.

To Kyberia

Sing, Muse, of Kyberia, patroness of new technologies,
gentle guide through the Internet’s pathways,
who bestows shining insight
to all those who call upon her blessed name in prayerful tones.
She stands over the computer, dear creature of her heart,
and with her fiery sword chases off the baneful viruses
and those vexing adds for porn.
When she is remembered, and AOL’s silver
start-up discs are offered
on her altar with honey-sweetened wine
there are no 404 errors,
and one needn’t fear their screen turning blue.
She delights in the hum and whir of old computers,
and the clickedy-clack of fingers on keyboards.
When you are writing code or working to upload graphics to your webpage,
remember her and recite a pleasing hymn in her honor,
and I swear to you, it will go a lot easier!
Unbidden the answers will come to you,
and your hands will speed across the keyboard
typing out the right things,
even if you haven’t the vaguest clue what those things are.
Who is this Goddess whom I hymn?
Some say she is grey-eyed Athene,
known under a different name,
or the daughter of Eris,
brought into being by the mad-rush of technology.
I do not know for sure, but I call her Kyberia and Tekaté
and The-Pattern-That-Is-Found-In-Chaos
and I proclaim her a Goddess dear to my heart!
Hail, Goddess! I will remember you with many songs!

Pliny the Elder, Natural History § 21.45.1
There is another kind of honey, found in the same district of Pontus among the people called Sanni, which from the madness it produces is called maenomenon. This poison is supposed to be extracted from the flowers of the oleanders which abound in the woods. Though these people supply the Romans with wax by way of tribute, the honey, because of its deadly nature, they do not sell.

Dionysos and I are having an odd trip down memory lane. Specifically back to 2002, when Serj Tankian released the independent project Serart with Arto Tunçboyaciyan. I walked half way across Las Vegas, in scorching heat (and listening to Smashing Pumpkins) to get the CD. At first the clerk of the chain record store didn’t understand what I was talking about (which increasingly pissed me off since I’d called ahead to confirm they had it) but eventually it turned up in the jazz section of all places.

I’d really dug the more melodious and Armenian parts of SOAD’s first two albums, and often used them in ritual for Dionysos. Somehow I’d heard there was going to be more of that on this project, so I waited excitedly for the release. And was met with some of the weirdest tunes I had encountered since I tried listening to Frank Zappa as a teen. My brain could only handle it in small doses, so it took me a couple months to make it through the whole thing. (I was so unformed back then.)

An instinct, the voice of Dionysos, my desire to be cooler than I actually was, something said keep going there’s important shit in it you’re not getting, so I stubbornly persisted and one night during ritual it all clicked into place and I fucking loved it. Listened to it over and over, all the way through, for weeks on end. It captured my mental state and certain aspects of Dionysos I was connecting with at the time in an uncanny way, to the point that it’s basically my personal soundtrack for 2002-03. (Along with Blind Melon, which I was equally obsessed with.)

Listening to Serart again really brings it all flooding back, both the good and the bad. And yet through everything that happened in Vegas, Dionysos was there with me, and that’s pretty cool.

Not sure what the point of any of this is, but I uncharacteristically felt like sharing something personal, so enjoy.

For F.

I call to the careful one,
the cunning dwarf who lost his ring
but retained his gleaming wealth, Andvari
who lives behind the shimmering waterfall
where the long-toothed pike swim freely
and the rapid white-capped river
blesses the weddings of the the village girls
who still come by night to make offerings
of braided wheat dolls and wildflowers.
Lord of the oak-crown, with beard of moss
and fingers like gnarled roots and dripping mud,
you know how to make things increase and how
to reap the rewards of fine investment,
and even more importantly how to take advantage
of obstacles and the unexpected.
Venerable maker, this I pray, teach me to see
the true worth of all things, and to know always
what is mine to carry, and what is not.

For Petros.

I summon to these prayers
the dancemad, hauberk-clad Lads
who slam their ashen spear butts to the ground
and scream ferociously
in time to the thunder-summoning kettledrums
and double-pipes trilling like pandaemonium
loosed upon the earth.
Everything quakes and throbs as they draw near,
these bringers of flowers and plump summer bees;
beasts and trees and everything else
are caught in the potent rapture
of their raw, unyoked masculinity which comes
crashing against the shore in foamy waves,
breaking through a well-ordered foreign phalanx,
crushing walls that would dare keep them out.
When they leap and prance upon the field
the cold winds are driven to cowardly flight by their heat,
snow trembles and pisses itself into nothingness,
ice is afraid as a child in a cage
and all rejoice for the beloved of the Nymphs,
the protectors of the grotto and defenders of the innocent,
the march-loving springtime Youths
are here to play.

For Ellen.

Queenly Medeia with midnight braids
and sharp white teeth, lips the color
of virgin’s blood on a flint blade,
cheeks smooth and pale as bone,
dress shimmering like serpent scale
as you stir the herb-strewn cauldron
and sing ancient chants to the infernal powers
in your bird-lovely and heavily accented voice.
O sister of Absyrtos, you are hard and cold and unforgiving
as the snow-covered Colchian soil that bore you,
daughter of Aeëtes and mother of the horse-loving
race of Medes, archers beyond compare;
like them your sight is keen and unwavering,
your justice is implacable,
your reason unclouded by sentiment,
you see all the probabilities an act may set in motion,
perceive both the intended and unforeseen consequences
and so, Crimson Mistress, you do not flinch
from making the tough, necessary choice
that others could not bear, but will benefit from.
Chief priestess of the Black Sea Hekate,
Granddaughter of the unconquered Sun,
attendant of frenzied Dionysos,
initiate of the Samothracian deities,
drummer in the orgies of Mountain Mother Rheia,
fellow-traveler of Orpheus and overseer of the Green Way,
familiar of Baba Yaga and dweller in the witchy hut on forest’s edge
hear my prayers and lend your cunning and your power
to the work I am undertaking,
and Lady, I shall share a portion
of my generous client’s gift with you.

But part of why I had such a visceral reaction to the man’s dishonest appropriation is because this is the exact tactic that the Christians took in antiquity:

If those who are called philosophers, especially the Platonists, have said things which are indeed true and are well accommodated to our faith, they should not be feared; rather, what they have said should be taken from them as from unjust possessors and converted to our use. Just as the Egyptians had not only idols and grave burdens which the people of Israel detested and avoided, so also they had vases and ornaments of gold and silver and clothing which the Israelites took with them secretly when they fled, as if to put them to a better use. (Augustine, On Christian Teaching)

And that ain’t cool.

Especially since they were only able to do so after centuries of bitter conflict with the disciples of Plato, who were some of the strongest critics of the militant monotheism of the church and actively engaged in the preservation and restoration of traditional cults (see, for instance, Marinos of Samaria’s Life of Proklos, Iamblichos’ De Mysteriis, Porphyry’s Against the Christians and Julian’s Contra Galileos) and then only after the might of the Roman empire was brought to bear against them, as for instance when Justinian forcibly closed the Academy in Athens:

We wish to widen the law once made by us and by our father of blessed memory against all remaining heresies (we call heresies those faiths which hold and believe things otherwise than the catholic and apostolic orthodox church), so that it ought to apply not only to them but also to Samaritans and Pagans. Thus, since they have had such an ill effect, they should have no influence nor enjoy any dignity, nor acting as teachers of any subjects, should they drag the minds of the simple to their errors and, in this way, turn the more ignorant of them against the pure and true orthodox faith; so we permit only those who are of the orthodox faith to teach and accept a public stipend.

Justinian enforced this edict with torture and murder on a grand scale, as we see, for instance in Prokopios:

Justinian then carried the persecution to the Hellenes as they are called, maltreating their bodies and plundering their properties. But even those among them who had decided to espouse in word the name of Christians, seeking thus to avert their present misfortunes, these not much later were generally seized at their libations and sacrifices and other unholy acts. And the prosecution of these cases was carried out in reckless fashion, since the penalty was exacted even without an accuser, for the word of a single man or boy, and even, if it so happened, of a slave compelled against his will to give evidence against his owner, was considered definite proof. Those who were thus convicted had their privates removed and were paraded through the streets. (The Secret History 11.24-36)

Or the third book of the Chronicle of Zuqnin, which quotes John of Ephesos who was directly involved in the persecutions:

In the nineteenth year of the Emperor Justinian, they were busy, thanks to my zeal, with the matter of the Pagans who were discovered in Constantinople. These were illustrious and noble men, with a host of grammarians, sophists, scholastics and physicians. When they were discovered and, thanks to torture, denounced themselves, they were seized, flogged, imprisoned, and sent to the churches so that they might learn the Christian faith as was appropriate for Pagans. There were among them patricians and nobles. Then a powerful and wealthy Pagan named Phocas, who was a patrician, saw the harshness of the inquisition and knowing that those arrested had denounced him as a Pagan, and that a severe sentence had been given against him because of the zeal of the emperor, that night took deadly poison and so left this earthly life. When the emperor heard this, he ordered with justice that he should be interred like an ass, that there should be no cortege or prayer for him. So his family during the night put him on a litter, carried him, made an open grave and threw him in it like a dead animal. Thanks to this the Pagans were afraid for some time. Later on the goodness of god visited Asia, Caria, Lydia and Phrygia, thanks to the zeal of the victorious Justinian and by the efforts of his humble servant. So by the power of the holy spirit, 70,000 souls were instructed, and left behind the errors of Paganism, the worship of idols and the temples of the demons for the knowledge of the truth. All were converted, disavowed the errors of their ancestors, were baptized in the name of our lord Jesus Christ, and were added to the number of Christians. The victorious Justinian paid the expenses and clothing for baptism; he also took care to give three gold pieces to each of them. When god had opened their minds and had made known the truth, they helped us with their own hands to destroy their temples, to overthrow their idols, to extirpate the sacrifices that were offered everywhere, to cut down their altars, soiled with the blood of sacrifices offered to demons, and to cut down countless trees that they worshipped because they were leaving all the errors of their ancestors. The salutary sign of the cross was planted everywhere among them, and churches of god were founded everywhere. They were built and erected, to the number of eighty-six, with great diligence and zeal, in the high mountains and steep and in the plains, in all the places where there was Paganism. Twelve monasteries were also founded in places which were Pagan, and where the name of Christ had never been heard from the beginning of the world until this time. Fifty-five churches were founded at public expense and forty-one at the expense of the new Christians. The victorious emperor gave them willingly, by our hands, the sacred vessels, clothes, books and brass items.

Or in the Life of the Younger Saint Symeon the Stylite:

On his way to the city of Antioch he destroyed many of the unrighteous found en route, so that men shuddered with fear at his countenance. For everywhere he suppressed all evil-doing whether in word or deed, inflicting punishment, including death, on those who had gone astray, so that from then on even those living a blameless life feared his presence. He claimed that what he did was in response to an oracle from god which appeared to him in a dream, namely that the lord was angry with the Hellenes and heretics and he should reveal the idolatrous errors of the atheists and gather together all their books and burn them. After some investigation he discovered that the majority of the leaders of the city and many of its inhabitants were preoccupied with Hellenismos, Manichaeism, astrological practices, automatism and other hateful heresies. He arrested them and put them in prison, and after gathering together all of their books – a huge number – he burned them in the middle of the stadium. He brought out their idols and their polluted accoutrements and hung them along the streets of the city, and their wealth was expended on numerous fines. (161)

So if I’m a little resentful of people attempting to turn our polytheist martyrs into spokepersons for the ideology that almost succeeded in wiping them out, understand that there is good reason for that.

I believe that the prohibition of marijuana is wrong bordering on immoral.

The consumption of this naturally occurring product is illegal only because the United States Federal government has declared it so – against the will of numerous states which have approved it for both medical and recreational use, mind you.

They only did so in the 20th century (as any patchouli-reeking hippie will tell you, our Founding Fathers grew hemp, maaaaan) because of an anti-Mexican hysteria that was sweeping through the country at the time. Even today the enforcement of prohibition unfairly targets minority communities which has all sorts of socioecomomic ramifications in addition to the violence and exposure to other criminal elements it produces. Supposing that there were some sort of valid legal, moral or medical basis for prohibition, at this point even it’s most strident proponents must concede that the war on drugs hasn’t been waged very successfully. People from all levels of society imbibe and it’s so readily accessible anyone can score some anytime they want if they’ve got the right connections.

Of course therein lies the fatal flaw of prohibition – those connections are, by definition, people who engage in criminal activity. The only reason that pot is a “gateway drug” is because dealers often have the other stuff on hand or because people try pot, realize everything they’ve been told about it is a lie and figure that the government is lying about the dangers of other drugs too. If we really wanted to stop the spread of actually harmful substances like coke and meth we’d legalize pot and introduce dispensaries operated and overseen by the state, as liquor stores are in many communities.

Indeed the analogy is an appropriate one for there are plenty of perfectly legal substances that have a far greater impact on our health than any tests have shown for even extreme levels of pot consumption – tobacco, alcohol, caffeine, processed sugar, fatty foods, chemical additives and preservatives, etc ad infinitum are all much more dangerous to us, yet no one bats a lash when a person puts those things in their body. Can you imagine the hue and cry if the government decided to shut down all the Starbucks and McDonalds and banned Facebook?

So singling out marijuana in this way is arbitrary and illogical – especially considering its demonstrated medical and psychological benefits like easing pain, nausea and anxiety, increasing appetite among chemo patients and so forth. 

I have immense respect for the law – indeed, Orpheus tells us that Themis and Dike sit enthroned beside Zeus – but law is the immutable order of existence, not the mere whims and dictates of man. When our rules conform with that order they are right, just, noble and good, worthy of defending with our blood and life. But when they stray from that order they carry no weight of acceptance and obligation and if they stray too far I consider it a just act to oppose them, for instance as when German officers during WWII refused to execute their orders to open fire on civilian Jewish populations. Doing so made them guilty of insubordination and treason but preserved them from committing a far greater sin.

And as much as I stress the importance of the collective I fervently believe in the sovereignty of the individual and that our souls are accountable to a higher authority than man. (Or lower, since the seats of Minos, Rhadamanthys and Aiakos are located in the underworld.) Consequently I believe, as a Dionysian, that one of the greatest evils we can do to another human being is to violate the sovereignty of their being. (Consider his myths where he is gentle and persuasive in adversity, to the point where he’ll take more shit from people than any other God would – up to the point where the will of innocents is impigned and then he is unspeakably savage in retaliation.) Which is why I am opposed to rape and murder and monism.

And also why I believe that a person has the right to alter their consciousness in whatever manner they choose to. Laws govern our interactions with our fellows and they have no business touching upon what happens within the sanctity of our skulls. If I choose to take drugs in order to explore the furthest reaches and primordial depths of my soul, to commune with Gods and Spirits, to expand my thoughts and open the floodgates of creativity (not to mention all of the other uses these substances have) that has no bearing on anyone else and therefore should be of no concern to them.

Now, obviously, the moment that I begin interacting with other people I am obligated to behave in a certain manner and should be held accountable for everything I say and do and the impact it has on them regardless of how much I am being influenced by the drugs. Indeed because I made the conscious choice to put myself under their power I believe that I should be even more accountable for my actions since that decision opens up everything that follows from it. I especially must respect the boundaries of others and the choices they make or did not make (such as being exposed to an intoxicated idiot.)

Or to put it in other words if you can’t handle your shit you shouldn’t be doing it and if you fuck up you deserve to have the book thrown at you and then some – but if you can then I don’t see a problem with imbibing.

That said, entheogens aren’t for everyone, especially not as a dedicated path. Even though I think everyone can potentially benefit from them I usually try to dissuade folks because if you’ve got unresolved shit it’s gonna get brought up to the surface and frankly a lot of folks aren’t prepared for dealing with that so directly – which is where bad trips often come from.

Of course, that’s when an experienced guide can be helpful – walking you through it when it gets intense and helping to ease the landing when you come back down. More than that, the guide has built up a relationship with the Spirit in the plant so can usually talk to it and help negotiate the terms of the trip. Consequently I’m not as experienced as a lot of psychonauts since I’ve worked on building up that kind of relationship with my particular plant-allies rather than getting my hands on every exotic chemical combination I can.

I work fairly closely with tobacco, marijuana, amanita muscaria, psilocybin and to a much lesser extent salvia divinorum. Beyond that I’ve tried nymphaia cirulea, kinnikinnick, a couple other mushrooms and herbal mixtures, LSD and one of those alphabet soup designer chemical compounds. [Note: This list has expanded since the post was written.]

I won’t try anything harder or that isn’t a psychoactive and the experience with the alphabet soup swore me off all but the natural stuff. And even there I tend to stick to traditionally Eurasian substances – there’s a couple from Mexico and South America I’d like to try but 1) you’re dealing with a very different type of spirit and 2) most of the experiences begin with massive vomiting and/or explosive diarrhea and there’s a limit to how much I’m going to get out of a trip while hunched over a toilet, ya know?

I cannot stress these three words enough: set and setting. Set and setting. Set and setting.

They’re everything. Basically what it means is before you go into any potentially intense experience – be it drugs, ritual, art or whathaveyou – pay attention to your surroundings and your mental state. This includes things like who’s around you, your sensorium (visuals, tactile, auditory, even scents) and where your head is at. Are you calm, reverent, focused and got all of your shit more or less under control? (And know what areas you don’t.) Do you know what you’re trying to accomplish and hope to get out of the experience (while remaining flexible and open to other things coming up) before going in? Do you have any ritual accoutrements or objects of entertainment easily accessible so you don’t have to search for them while altered?

Paying attention to this stuff ahead of time contributes hugely to the success or failure of any undertaking.

I see that people are fighting about miasma again. (Wow, y’all really like being spiritually dirty, don’t ya?) As usual, there seems to be some significant misunderstandings about what miasma is and is not so here’s my basic run-down, again.  

Miasma is a semi-corporeal substance which collects along the margins of life and is easily transferable – essentially an invisible sticky film of mortality. It can arise from within us, from our thoughts and activities or we can “catch” it by coming into contact with others, as well as objects and places that are coated with it. It is a morally neutral substance and should not be conflated with harmatia or the Christian concept of sin. Indeed many of the things that transmit it – birth, sex, death, intense emotional and psychological states – are not only natural and necessary parts of life, but seen as social goods in their own right. Miasma is an issue because it is contrary to hagne or holiness, meaning that portion of the divine which is remote from us. Too much miasma also negatively impacts our perceptions, health and luck.

Suppose you covered your body from head to toe in an adhesive tar and then took a stroll through a lovely park and the winding streets of your city. By the time you reached home how much stuff do you think you’d have picked up, stuff that would normally have just floated past you? That’s exactly what it’s like when you’re in a state of miasma and when enough of it builds up you often find yourself feeling dull, sluggish, apathetic, disconnected, depressed and generally ill even if you don’t have definite symptoms.

More succinctly, miasma breeds malaise. It is not life, but the byproduct of life and for this reason it is opposed to purity; the divine flows, but miasma does not. Being impermeable it cuts us off from the Gods and the things associated with them.

Not only for what it does to us, but because it is so highly contagious the responsible thing to do is be aware of your state of purity and take regular steps to cleanse and remove miasma from yourself.

If you’d like to know more please check out Robert Parker’s Miasma: Pollution and Purification in Early Greek Religion and my writings about pollution and cleansing at the Bakcheion. 

An old conversation on a relevant topic.

I’ve been having a great theological conversation with my friend Petros which I thought might be of interest to some of you here, so I asked his permission to share. He agreed and here we go!

I have two questions regarding the nature of the Gods. If you don’t have the time to respond to them that’s okay.

The first was raised after I read Galina’s post. She stated “…They exist and They existed long before we were created. The corollary to that is this: It is right and proper to venerate Them.” Is the fact of their existence enough of a reason to worship them? If I was raised by an abusive parent, I’d have a hard time loving and respecting him/her just because of their status as my parent. Is it possible that some Gods exist that are not worthy of veneration?

The answer to all of your questions is yes.

But where a lot of people get hung up, I think, is in the notion that there’s only one type of worship which is to be applied across the board to all manner of divine beings. Previously cultures had a much richer religious vocabulary than our own – even Catholics maintain a distinction between latria, dulia and hyperdulia, representing the differences between the worship appropriate to Mary, the saints, the sacraments, holy places etc. and that reserved exclusively for the Trinity. Instead of ‘worship’ think of it as ‘right relationship’. The right relationship you’re going to have with a mountain or a river is very different from what you’ll have with a deity or a hero. And as far as deities go you’ve got a whole range of them from the vast cosmic powers to door-hinge or hearth-Gods to more familiar anthropomorphic entities. And sometimes Gods can extend across these artificial boundaries – there’s a level of Dionysos where he’s this primal life-force coursing through all creation and a level where you can have a conversation with him just as you would any close friend.

Now, the basis for having a right relationship with a divinity is respect – and that is owed to all of them simply because they exist. You don’t have to have history with them, you don’t have to necessarily like them, and you don’t have to carry out any sort of rituals honoring them but you should show them that essential respect because without it you’re in wrong relation to them. This respect is basically an acknowledgement of their existence and an absence of desire to see them harmed. It’s kind of like looking out over the Grand Canyon and going “Holy shit! This thing is big and could destroy me. That’s cool. People who throw trash in it suck.” Personally I think we should cultivate this attitude with regard to all things – including our fellow man – but it’s especially necessary with divinities.

Everything beyond that is optional.

The divine realm is so immense it would be impossible for you to be actively engaged in a devotional relationship with all of it – nor should you, necessarily. Ancient polytheist religions generally tend to have a notion of reciprocity as their basis: the Gods impress us in some way so we do things to honor them which induces them to do more for us which causes us to increase our expressions of gratitude. This can even be carried to the point of mystic union, though that’s not really an end goal most of the time. Now, if a divinity does not wish to engage with us in this way we are under no obligation to uphold our end of the deal. A divinity may choose not to be in right relation to us through indifference or active hostility or even as a test to see whether we’ll keep up with our devotions anyway. Likewise, what we do with regard to them is entirely up to us. Out of the vast plenitude of divinities I offer regular cultus (meaning at least one offering a year) to maybe 40 Gods and a slightly larger number of Spirits. If you’re talking about monthly observances that probably shrinks by half. Daily – I can count them on my hands with plenty of fingers left over. And I think I’m doing alright. My choices obviously cut off relations with other Gods (like half of the Hellenic pantheon) but I’m not opposed to them in any way and gladly do what I can to help foster the revival of their worship. (I just think it’s something best left to other people.) There are a few I feel something almost like aversion for but I’ll never let it get to the point of actual hatred, because that just doesn’t seem like a very smart idea to me.

The next question: Does geographical location have any effect regarding the worship of Gods from another region? For example, despite being 1/4 Irish and 1/4 Scot, one of the reasons I’ve never felt right worshiping the Celtic Gods is that from the sources I’ve read, they seem so inextricably linked to specific regions, hills, rivers. Worshiping a God or Goddess tied to a river in Ireland doesn’t feel right when I’m in NorCal. While Dionysos is also linked to areas of the Mediterranean region, his nomadic nature does not seem at odds with non-geographical specific worship. Plus, being here and so close to Napa, it’s not all that different from the environment of Italy and Greece. Also, the idea that we may somehow be displacing the regional Gods/Spirits with our own makes me a little uncomfortable. Are indigenous Spirits and our Gods antagonistic and can we appease the local divinities by honoring them and making offerings to them as well as our Gods?

Some Gods (and many more Spirits) are bound to specific locations while others seem to have no problem moving around with their devotees and some like Dionysos, Hermes, Isis and Odin thrive as wanderers on their own. But even though they are able to freely travel the change of location does affect how they manifest and that’s why you see regional variations in cultus over time. One of my favorite historical eras is Hellenistic Egypt because you get to follow the unfolding of this process through a wealth of primary source material as both the Greek and Egyptian populations were widely literate. (To a degree that Europe wouldn’t see again until well after the advent of the printing press, sadly.)

As far as edging out the indigenous Spirits – that certainly has and may continue to be happening, though I think the overculture is doing a far more effective job of that than we ever could. However, inter-pantheon relations needn’t always be hostile. There’s no reason they can’t be hailed alongside each other, traditional elements fused – and sometimes there is even a merging of the entities. This is how we have syncretism.

I think with such scenarios – and really when we encounter any God or Spirit, period – one should start off by consulting them to see what they want. And if one isn’t perceptive in that way, they can always utilize divination.

In my opinion there’s a couple really big questions you should ask right off the bat:

• Do you want my worship?
• Do you want to be worshiped in the manner of the people who first lived here?
• Are you amenable to other forms of worship?
• Are there any specific restrictions I should be aware of?

Everything else sort of follows from there.

How it all got started. (More or less.)

To Sobek

I sing of Sobek, the great beast of the Nile,
who lurks beneath the surface,
unseen and swift-swimming,
until he decides to pounce upon his prey
which goes down with a single bite.
He is a potent king amid his terrors,
and there is nothing half as frightening as he
upon the earth or beneath it.
His teeth shine in the darkness and his eyes are like torches,
driving off the frightful creatures of the night.
Those whom Sobek guards are kept safe from all harm,
for even the other Gods wish to avoid angering
the Lord of the Faiyum.
His priests share no food with him,
for bloody flesh and living beasts
are tossed in the water to howl as he devours them.
Even when he puts off his crocodile form
and dons a mortal guise
you can still tell that it’s him.
For his eyes are all red,
his skin black as onyx,
when he grins you can see more teeth
than any mortal mouth could hold,
and he speaks not with a human tongue
but growls deep within his throat,
a sound that you will never forget
for the rest of your days.
He dwells in the underworld
and challenges the souls traveling West.
He sniffs them out, looking for sin,
and those who reek of it he drags down under the water
to torture until they’ve made amends.
The just man, however, he allows to climb on his back,
and ferries safely across to the other shore,
where Hathor waits in the field of rushes
to grant him his well-earned reward.

To the Lord of the Faiyum

Hail to you Petesouchos,
chief of the Gods of in the district of Arsinoë,
double-plumed lord of abundance,
green king of the fishes who dwells in peace within his lake,
master of the floodwaters that cause life to prosper,
mysterious Lord who knows every secret thing
that transpires beneath the surface.
Men travel from distant lands to consult your venerable oracle
and hear the future foretold through your thunderous roar
that shakes the earth and sends the noisy geese to flight.
Though your countenance is terrifying,
and your wrath justly feared,
since you have sword-like teeth for the rending of flesh
and jaws powerful enough to drag the river-horse down to death,
you are named the ally of man,
and when kindly disposed one can find in the whole world
no greater protector than you.
You come to the aid of those in distress
like the mighty egg-born Dioskouroi,
and consume those who would do your favored harm
like ferocious Kronos devouring his own children.
My heart trembles at the thought of your majesty,
and I am overcome with awe for you
many-times great crocodile God!
Your altar shall never be bare of sacrifices,
nor your praises go unsung,
so long as I continue to draw breath and walk upon the earth.

Hail to you Poseidon,
dweller beneath the waves,
lover of all ocean life,
protector of those who sail upon the sea.
Your beard is like the moss that clings
to a rock on the shore,
and your eyes are like silver pools,
still and full of unfathomable secrets.
You shake the earth in your wrath,
and send out your fierce white horses
to trample our ports amid the surging waves.
Great is your power,
for you stand equal
with the Lord of Olympian heights
and he who receives many guests below the earth.
Wise are they who honor you,
O wielder of the trident,
for when you are favorable to men,
you share your rich bounty freely with us,
and ensure that no foreign force can attack us from the sea.
Accept this song of mine, Poseidon,
and I shall remember you with many more.

Hail to you Yahweh,
Lord of the high mountain,
mighty bull who thunders in heaven
and shatters the chains of your pious people.
You have an honored place
among the assembly of the Gods,
and command countless hosts of angelic armies.
Your prophets are wild men of the desert
who speak with tongues of flame,
and you raise up just kings
to oversee your righteous laws
and care for the poor and dispossessed.
You walk with your people as they wander in exile,
sheltering them from violence and unjust persecution.
You smote Behemoth and wrestled with Leviathan,
and chained your Adversary in gloomy Sheol.
Wisdom hearkens to you like a lover,
and Victory sits upon your shoulder.
Your face shines from behind the veil,
and the earth melts wherever your foot falls.
You are a holy God, whose name is known in every land,
and your spirit watches over all the sons of Adam 
and daughters of Eve who do good
and show kindness to their fellows.
Though I belong to other Gods I have respect for you,
and shall reserve a place for Israel’s God in my temple
should you ever want a polytheist’s worship.

Hail to you Roma,
gentle and peace-loving Goddess
who delights in the songs of maidens
and the flowers that grow upon the seven hills.
You smile as you watch the triumphant general
parade through your streets
like Bacchus celebrating his Indian victory,
and nothing makes your heart gladder than hearing
the wise men dispense justice in the forum.
You march with the legions to put down the tyrannous foe,
and stay behind in foreign lands to nurture the civilizing spirit
so that all men in time may recognize their common brotherhood
and let go of their petty hatreds,
embracing what is best and noblest within the human condition.
You are the mother of the sciences and all the liberal arts,
your gifts to us are roads and aqueducts,
markets and forums, theaters and temples:
all the beautiful things that make for splendid cities.
And you teach us how to live well in them:
reverence for the ancestral customs,
obedience to the laws, love for freedom,
industriousness and endurance in the face of hardship.
Blessed is the man who is called after you a Roman –
for such a man knows truly what it is to be a man.

Can I commission hymns for divinities already on your list?

Yes, absolutely. The more the merrier! Several of those divinities already have multiple hymns in the collection, as each hymn allows us to focus on different forms, functions, attributes, regional expressions, myths and the like.  

Are there any restrictions?

There are, which is why I strongly recommend writing me before sending funds through Paypal. There are certain Gods and Spirits I have an innate antipathy towards and others who, however fondly I may regard them, I have not been successful in connecting with or properly understanding. If I cannot produce work that I feel is worthy of these divinities I will simply refund your money rather than offer them shit. Likewise I am generally limiting the book to divinities who are of Mediterranean or European extraction. There are some outside this cultural and geographic sphere I might consider including, but for the most part I am not familiar enough with these Gods and Spirits or the sacred traditions associated with them to do them justice. 

Can you include my personal associations, regional attributes, UPGs, etc. in a hymn?

Maybe. Let’s discuss it through e-mail before you send money.  

What about about pop culture figures?

Fuck you. 

How long will this be going on?

I’ve still got to do about four sets of the Daily Hymns, as well as a dozen or so individual Hymns to flesh out the Starry Bull and Bear pantheons, plus whatever folks commission. I can’t be certain how long that’s going to take, but I estimate I’ll be working on this project at least through the end of March.

From Oitylos to Thalamai in Lakonia the road is about eighty stades long. On it is a sanctuary of the Goddess containing an oracle. They consult the oracle in sleep, and the Goddess reveals whatever they wish to learn in dreams. Bronze statues of Pasiphaë and of Helios stand in the unroofed part of the sanctuary. It was not possible to see the one within the temple clearly, owing to the garlands, but they say this too is of bronze. Water, sweet to drink, flows from a sacred spring. Some say Pasiphaë is a title of Selene, and not a local Goddess of the people of Thalamai. (Pausanias, Description of Greece 3.26.1)

Image credit: “Beacon Shaman 2019” by Galina Krasskova

Many are the great heroes of old,
mighty kings who sailed the far seas,
men of courage who spilt the blood of terrible beasts,
and those brave souls who gave up their lives to make our land free;
but none are as deserving of honor as Freyr,
long-handed and lovely faced Lord of the Fair Ones,
whose valorous deeds are the favorite subject
of divinely inspired poets and old women with babes upon the knee.
His eyes, they say, are fierce like the fire that burns
an enemy’s strong walls down to the ground,
and his hair is the color of the brown food of bees
or the radiant Sun at midday.
None could stand for long
against the antler-bearer in a fight,
so skilled in war-making is he,
and the broad-bosomed earth has never seen the man
who could match wits with this cunning fellow.
Elf-knowledge is his, and the working of binding charms.
He knows the language of wild beasts,
when to plough, sow and reap the fields,
and how to woo a beautiful maiden,
chaste and pure as the new-fallen snow.
So when the days are stretched out,
the heat bears down upon us,
and the golden corn is ready to harvest,
remember this God among men
and keep his ancient festival in the ancestral fashion,
with songs and foot-races and blazing bonfires
so that Freyr’s good-will will be ours for another year to come.

I am often asked what the position of the Starry Bull tradition is with regard to metempsychosis or reincarnation.

We don’t have one.

This may strike some as peculiar since we place such a strong emphasis on eschatology but there is nothing within our system of belief which depends on or is refuted by reincarnation, therefore it remains a matter which each member must make their own decisions about. (An approach which, incidentally, reflects the custom of our ancient Bacchic Orphic predecessors who were in universal agreement on almost nothing.) For every quote you dig up that’s pro you can find another that’s con. Most, in fact, are so ambiguous that they can be read in any number of ways depending on the preferences of the interpreter.

I tend, for instance, to interpret many of these quotes as referring to metempsychosis but not reincarnation.

Originally this word meant the transfer of a soul from one body to another. Obviously reincarnation (wherein a person dies and their soul gets reborn in a different body) is a type of metempsychosis but it is not the only type. For instance it could also refer to things like sending one’s soul out to take possession of another person’s body, the transformation of an individual (whether here or in another realm) into an animal or bird, the generation of some kind of spiritual body or it could be a metaphor for the start of a new life and identity post initiation. None of these require the catalyst of a physical death.

Indeed, there are plenty of reasons to reject the notion of reincarnation, particularly as it is understood in the West so often with a radically reductionist view of the soul. The majority of ancient Greeks, whether they held to a more traditional Homeric view or aligned with marginal folks like Empedokles, Aristeas, Parmenides and Pythagoras, did not conceive of man as just a ghost in a fleshy machine. Man is made up of many parts, including various spiritual bodies and non-localized organs of intelligence, perception and emotion. Some of these are bound to the body until death and after; some may separate and roam free even in life; some only come into being once the person has crossed over to the other side. Which, of course, begs the question – if all of these different parts have different destinations how much of “you” gets recycled into a new body? And if everyone automatically gets reincarnated why do we make offerings to ancestors, heroes, daimones and restless spirits? For that matter, how can the dead walk the earth once more on Anthesteria, Lemuria, Samain, Día de Muertos or Yule? (Depending on your tradition and locale.)

Now, of course, none of these preclude at least some type of reincarnation from taking place (part of what we are going to simplistically refer to as the soul may go on to abide with the ancestors while a different part gets implanted into a gestating fetus) but that is largely irrelevant for the Bacchic Orphic who intends to spend at least some portion of eternity in drunken carousel with Dionysos and his Retinue. The whole point of initiation is to prepare us for that underworld journey and the dangers and obstacles we shall encounter upon the way. (It also keeps us whole so we can remember who we are.) There’s no lock on the door, however. You can wander off any time. Explore other parts of the underworld, or the endless corridors of the Labyrinth and all the places they lead; if you wanted, you could even put on another meatsuit and see again what exquisite pleasures and suffering the world of the living contains. Sometimes birth is a punishment for wicked deeds; sometimes an accident. And sometimes you enter at different points in the stream of time. (Like, what if past lives are actually future lives, man? *bong hit*)

Maybe. Maybe not.

I’d never pretend I have it all figured out. Hell, I wouldn’t want to know all the secret mechanics of life and shit even if I could.

That’d be boring.

So what do you think will happen when you die?