Karkûm, father of sorcery
and one of the mightiest of Šedim,
was traveling to the house of NN,
because of a compact with a sorcerer,
eager to spread illness, suffering, and quarrels,
when he encountered Dionysos Alexikakos
upon the road. Dionysos pointed his thyrsos
at Karkûm and said in a thunderous voice:
“You were sent by an evil one,
but I am sending you to the abode
of ninety nine evils.
Over nine swamps,
over nine rivers,
over nine seas
I send you,
and don’t ever come back from there;
or you shall receive
nine beatings,
nine floggings,
nine tortures,
and I shall cut you into nine pieces,
and thrice nine birds will feast on your flesh
and each fly off in a different direction!”
Karkûm disappeared,
and did not trouble
the house of NN again.

Dionysos the Thunderer, who hurls spears of divine fire,
bull-horned God who dances with the Hyades
as unexpected rain falls from Heaven
bringing life back to the barren turf,
I call upon you descendant of heroic Kadmos
for I am facing spiritual assault, as once your beloved
city was attacked by a pack of headstrong brigands,
terrifying in their force and savagery.
Just as Eteoklēs feared the encroaching darkness
and the destruction it would bring upon his kingdom,
I dread this gloom that has hold of my heart,
and ask you to be my refuge and support,
as I seek to drive it out. Strengthen my faith
and fill me with your radiance, Dionysos who rules flower-rich Nysa;
surround me with your Furious Host, better protection than all seven
of the Theban walls, and may your grace be poured out on me
like a libation of sparkling wine upon the thirsty ground.
Guide my steps that I may walk in the peace and truth of the Gods,
and dispel the doubt that clouds my mind, the work of Kapaneus
the son of perdition, who opposes and exalts himself
above all that is called God or revered as holy.
First to climb the ladder to assail Thebes’ impregnable defenses,
he shook his giant fist and howled obscenities skyward,
reserving the worst of his blasphemies for Kronos’ son,
and the Gods gathered round the throne of almighty Zeus.
His hatred of the Gods was legendary, and survived his mortal frame,
which was consumed by the flames of your furious father.
His mocking voice hunts down the pious, and Kapaneus harasses
them until their belief becomes brittle and crumbles in the hand
like a clod of dry dirt. He lies, saying that the Gods don’t care,
or that you are powerless to stop bad things from happening,
that you Immortals are nothing more than old wives’ tales
told to frighten and instill proper morals in the young,
or worse that you are evil demons trying to deceive mankind
so that we’ll be thrown into the river of fire in the underworld
or suffer even greater punishments for doing what is right and holy.
So I ask that you silence his cursed voice, and shield my mind
from his vile atheism and impiety, and please stop him from flitting
to and fro spreading his filth among the masses.
When I am tested by Kapaneus and those like him,
I will remain loyal to you, my Lord, and serve you in whatever way
has been given to me, because love is action not just an ephemeral emotion,
and devotion a choice and commitment every bit as serious
as marriage or standing in defense of one’s homeland.
As for those who have been victimized by Kapaneus and his ilk,
I pray that the people are once again able to see clearly,
to recognize the true nature of the Gods, and to give their lives to you.
Remove all hindrances the enemy would use to distract them from divine truth,
open their eyes, Dionysos, that they might behold the mysteries that surround them,
and cause the soil of their souls to become moist and fertile
so that the bright flowers of faith may spring up there in abundance.

Çorabaş, spirit of division and destruction,
tormentor of the the pious,
for your name, and the names of your followers,
I make this writ in order that it will provide
protection and healing for the house of NN.
I adjure you, and I beswear you,
Çorabaş the wicked spirit who sits upon
three hundred and sixty çorts as his throne,
that Dionysos Alexikakos, he with a drawn sword
and a flaming torch shall harm you,
if you again enter this home
and that you shall not reveal yourselves
as harassers, polluters, and sons of evil
O slaves of Çorabaş, son of Velzevul,
and he that hatest a household well established,
during the day and during the night,
whether there, or whether coming or going.
This home, the things it contains, and the people
who live here are all sealed by Dionysos Alexikakos,
Dionysos Alexikakos, Dionysos Alexikakos
and know that if you trespass here you shall face
both him and his Furious Host. Io evohe! Evohe! Evohe!

I adjure you, father of the host of gluttonous spirits,
whose grotesque belly is never full, Angel of the Abyss,
Locust King, compatriot of quick-to-anger Termagant
and Mahomēs who befuddles the minds of the multitude
with heresy, hatred, and hysteria.

Out! Out! Out!

Abaddōn, destroyer of propriety and moderation,
you would have the world believe that you bear the image
of grape-crowned Bacchus but with skin blue as an Indian divinity,
surrounded by opulence and decadence — but the God
who speaks from the Tree revealed your proper countenance,
so that those with eyes unclouded might recognize your true nature,
promoter of filth and ugliness.

Out! Out! Out!

From a distance you resemble a white horse galloping
riderless through the land, but up close it is clear that you
are a locust with the faces of three men, each wearing
a royal diadem with hair and makeup like a courtesan’s,
and the teeth of a lion eager to tear into flesh, and you also
have wings like an eagle circling the Hollywood hills
and a tail that thrashes about like an angry cat’s, but ending
in a scorpion’s stinger. Don’t try to hide it, you creature of
corpulence and lethargy, who inflates and warps the body’s
natural appetites, whose curses are diabetes, heart disease,
and gout — you have been found out!

Out! Out! Out!

Trouble no more this servant of the Gods, and permit them
to live a life of restraint, discipline, and piety, observing all
of the prescriptions and prohibitions laid upon them by their skilled diviner,
without temptation, harassment, lusts which Nature did not place in them,
and an equally false aversion to a life of holy conviction and loving devotion,
or you shall provoke the wrath of him whose likeness you have wrongfully
appropriated, Dionysos the Titan-slayer and killer of countless monsters,
the mighty son of Zeus who rules from Mount Nysa.

Out! Out! Out!

Instead go and pester NN whose will is weak,
who neglects their austerities and religious duties,
and will gladly welcome your lordship over them
and sink into the life of a voluptuary, without shame,
self worth, or any care for the opinions of others.
Now that is a juicy morsel for you to devour,
Abaddōn of the bottomless pit, not this one
who still loves what is good, beautiful, and true
and shall constantly resist and fight you, awful
Abaddōn, in your attempts to dominate and corrupt them.

In the name of Dionysos the Monster Killer,
grandson of Kadmos the Dragonslayer,
I rebuke you desolation that lays waste at the noon hour;
you who appear as a sad-eyed youth with a white raven
perched upon your shoulder, and a face that makes you
seem innocent and incapable of ever harming another,
though in truth you are a coiling dragon belching fire,
the bastard offspring of Gaia and Aither, and brother
of sinister Acedia, Aboulia, Aergia and Anomia,
merciless Torpor whom the Moabites called Belphegor,
voivod of the void, and known among the Canaanites
as Chamōsh, the one who quarrels, the enemy of beauty and desire.

In the name of Dionysos who drives out delusion,
and bursts the unbreakable bonds of obsession,
I renounce you and smash any claim you have on me Torpor,
even if it was forged through negligence, thoughtless agreement,
or inheritance; those who succumb to you, abomination, are subject
to spirits of exhaustion, apathy, anhedonia, and neglect for all of the things
of the body and the soul; you burden your playthings with countless fears
and morbid imaginings until their wills are
crushed beneath a tremendous weight; you snuff out ambition,
hope, dreams and delight until your victims’ lives
have become small, dreary, and pointless;
you pour into their minds an endless stream of black bile
until only the ash of their former lives remains.

In the name of Dionysos who keeps away evil, who answers cries for help,
I condemn you parasite of impiety, forerunner of the vices; you, foul one,
scoff at every reason to do good, sowing doubt
and confusion with your putrid whispers,
and you brazenly rush to any sign of passion for holiness
to try and cool things down; nothing brings you more pleasure,
Torpor, than to make the religious into a runaway,
a coward who has fled the spiritual battlefield
to live a life of mediocrity, safety, and predictability,
unmindful of their oaths and duty to their people, to their traditions,
to their land, and to their Gods.

Thrice-mighty Dionysos, I pray that you
remove this wicked spirit from my life.
Your power can triumph over him
and all of his kinfolk easily.
I pray that you will protect me and my loved ones
from his wicked thoughts
and Torpor’s temptations which are full of
deceit, despondency, and dejection.
O son of Zeus, I implore you, drive him back
to his underworld home and banish
his foreboding presence from my life for good.
His power cannot touch me
if your strength is shielding me.
I fight with all I have against everything
that stands opposed to the order of the Gods,
but it is your power that truly vanquishes the enemy.
I beseech you Dionysos, remove this vile fiend Torpor
from my life so that I may shine in your light once again.

O Dionysos Chrēstotēs, whose mirror
reveals the proper nature of things,
and destroys distorted perceptions,
you who would have us lift our heads high,
unashamed of our imperfections,
and rightfully proud of our achievements,
I lift my soul to you this day,
though Šezbeth the deceiver would have me
cower like a small and timid creature
bound by heavy chains of self-hate,
my mind the plaything of the tormentor.
Guard my heart, I pray, from all delusion,
my thoughts from vain imaginings,
my lips from falsehood,
my hands from self-harm,
and my soul from wicked inclinations
and poisonous impieties,
O Dionysos, subduer of Šezbeth,
so that I might live a life of virtue,
serving my community and worshiping
what is divine in a spirit of joy and truth.

O Dionysos, stranger who is known in every land,
unrelenting force, made mighty through madness,
upholder of order, and destroyer of corruption,
deliverer of souls, and help for the suffering,
priest and exorcist among the Gods,
whose utterances are clever, potent, and true;
may your healing be upon NN, and may NN be released
from the spirit of bondage that has settled, not only upon their life,
but the lives of all of their family members too!
May they all be made whole once again
through your divine mercy, Dionysos.
I adjure you, the evil Lilith whose name is Ṣemotat,
daughter of Ḥari, daughter of Balibati, the one
who strikes, and smites, and strangles, and devours,
so that all authority and all power have been taken from you,
and if you don’t want to suffer worse — go now, Ṣemotat,
and return to the desolate wastes where you were spawned.
As the Earth is from the Heavens, that far shall you remain from NN.
As a limb that has been amputated, that far shall you remain from NN.
As an ex who has been served a writ of divorce,
that far shall you remain from NN, O Ṣemotat the unwanted.
Go, Ṣemotat, and cry on your mother’s shoulder over the one
whose bed you will no longer be permitted to share,
whose vitality you can no longer drain,
whose spouse you can no longer make spiteful,
whose children you can no longer harm,
whose luck, life and livelihood shall flourish
without your polluting presence.
Go, Ṣemotat, and think again before choosing
someone to attach yourself to who has
Dionysos as their advocate and protector.

Just like the river Hebros runs down to the sea;
just like the Moon runs through the sky;
just like the son runs to the lap of Hipta his nurse;
so shall this evil swarm flee far from the Bacchant NN
pursued by the Golden Apples of Dionysos.
May all evil pains, evil aches, evil fevers, evil sickness,
and evil injuries inflicted by Ponēros or any other
return to their master, and never come again
to trouble NN the Bacchant who cries, “Io evohe!”

While searching in the land of Bābiru
for Arnavāz and Shahrnāz, the most
beautiful daughters of King Jamshēd,
who had been stolen by Aži Dahâka,
the evil dragon with three heads,
Dionysos discovered an ancient
palace that once belonged to the
venerable sage Maḥaway, but had
long since fallen into ruins and
become the habitation of evil spirits.
With a fennel-stalk Dionysos
slew ninety-nine Dēvs
and ninety-nine female Dēvs;
so may ninety-nine illnesses
and ninety-nine pains depart
from NN, and not return as long
as Aži Dahâka is imprisoned
on Mount Damāvand.
Life triumphs over the
works of the unmaker!

Dionysos was sailing his ship down the Danube
when he arrived in the land of the Magyars;
but when he came ashore he could find no Magyars anywhere,
as they were hiding from the demon Guta who liked to beat people
until they had a stroke or died of hemorrhage.
Dionysos said, “Stop striking these good people,
or you shall surely regret it!”
And the demon Guta just laughed in his face.
So with the scepter of Phanēs Dionysos smote Guta
in the temple, and the ugly head of Guta fell off.
All over Guta’s body he beat him,
until there was just a pile of bones and meat,
which Dionysos had carried away and burnt by his Satyrs,
and when the foul-smelling smoke was gone,
migraines and epilepsy disappeared from the land of the Magyars,
and the people returned from the caves and forest
where they had been hiding from the demon Guta.
So may it be for NN, who struggles to worship the Gods
through pain and sickness, day in and day out.
May Dionysos banish suffering, and bring forth rejoicing,
and may Guta the demon remain struck down.

Against Evil Spirits I

I beseech you, Dionysos Saōtēs,
to make powerless, banish, and drive out
every malignant force, presence and machination,
every evil influence, malefice, evil eye,
and all evil actions aimed against NN,
so that NN may praise you joyously,
safe in body and soul once again.

Against Evil Spirits II

Protector of the pious, God who loves to hear prayers and hymns,
I call upon you in your mighty name of Dionysos Bakcheios,
and ask that this space be covered in the powerful blood
of the bull that was sacrificed for his people. May this covering
form a hedge of protection against any forces of wickedness
and uncreation seeking to enter. Let the light of your presence
fill every inch, repulsing any malicious or harmful spirits,
especially those that like to sow confusion, discord or conflicts
among those of us who have gathered together to form a house
of holiness, where the Gods and spirits may be worshiped
in the proper customary manner, guided by the ancient principles
of piety and wisdom in all things. May your blood, O Horned One,
fill this space with understanding, peace, and joy, and keep us safe
from the schemes and attacks of our enemies, whether spirit or human.
Bless and keep watch over us, Dionysos Bakcheios, now and always.

Against Evil Spirits III

By the authority of Dionysos, Master of Mount Nysa
and Lord of the Labyrinth, I declare that this space is
consecrated for the worship of the Gods and spirits
and that any attempted claim on it is rendered null and void.
By the power of Dionysos who slays monsters and leads
the Furious Host into battle, I command all malignant
entities to flee this space, and forbid them to harm anyone
who is here rightfully, whether directly or indirectly.
By the mighty name of Dionysos, which even other Gods fear,
I proclaim that headaches, and illness, and any bodily or spiritual pains
will dissolve like wax in fire, and that all roots, hooks, tentacles,
or other attachments of spirits, the dead, or witches be withdrawn
lest pain more severe than anything they can imagine follow them back
to their source. Your devotee thanks you, O benevolent Bakcheios,
who is always first in the charge to drive back evil,
and lacks both fear or mercy when it concerns those
who have aligned themselves with the unmaker.

I have come here to chew bubblegum and battle demons … and I’m all out of bubblegum.

Got a new batch to share with y’all.

Oh, and if you prefer Heathen versions, my beautiful and clever wife is adapting some of the Κατάρες over at Gangleri’s Grove.

O Dionysos, leader of the triumphant procession,
ferocious one who worsts the offspring of Ouranos,
mighty one who wields the pruning-knife of Kronos,
vigorous one who wears the victor’s crown of Zeus,
I call on you
Dionysos who drives back the enemy,
Dionysos who slaughters his foes,
Dionysos who obliterates wicked machinations,
our God, our Lord, our Savior;
and I celebrate your victory over NN
who has been afflicting NN,
most kind, and gracious, and wonder-working Dionysos,
liberator and protector of our bodies and souls,
not just because this was such a personal and important matter,
but because every defeat of the forces of the unmaker
preserves and restores the divine order
a little more, and for a little longer;
but these things are petty and vengeful,
and likely have family, and friends,
and lots of co-workers of woe,
so I implore you who have already done so much
to render all spirits who would come against us
impotent, paralyzed and unable to cause
disorder, confusion, or any kind of harm,
not only against us here, but our students,
our apprentices, our initiates, our colleagues,
our friends, our families, our communities,
those who pray for us and their family members,
as well as anyone else who might be associated with us.
O God who delights in causing these wicked spirits pain,
I ask you to bind, and drive out, and cut off from their power
all fiendish creatures allied with the unmaker,
whether they are powers in the air, the water, the fire, the ground,
the underground, or the netherworld; be they human dead,
nature-spirit, demon, hero, God, or some other supernatural entity,
them and all of their emissaries, assistants, and associates.
Bind with your unbreakable ivy and drown in wine
all of their attributes, aspects, and characteristics,
all of their powers, compacts, and obligations,
all of their interactions, communications, and deceitful games,
Dionysos Bakcheios, the Deliverer.
Dionysos Backheios, the Loosener,
I implore you to break any and all bonds, attachments, or tentacles
that may have been placed on NN or any of us who have
participated in this rite, or prayed on this matter.
And Dionysos Bakcheios, the Confuser,
I petition you to distract, confound, and lead far away
and into utter destruction anything that attempts
to come after me or mine
for this or any other reason.

Resplendent Dionysos, august among the Gods,
vanquisher, triumphant, by the power of your mighty
name I banish all the offspring of the thousand and one
children of Yeqon the lascivious, of every kind,
and every perversion. Be they evil spirit,
evil demon, evil ghost, evil devil,
evil God, evil fiend, evil man,
evil face, evil eye, evil mouth, evil tongue,
or any other kind of evil. If the descendants
of Yeqon should cast any evil disease
or temptation on NN, may it be cut off
with your sharp pruning-knife Dionysos,
and if they have planted their seeds in NN,
may they depart from his body,
from his body may they issue forth,
leaving his body, may they never return!
Let their evil, their impurity, the poison
of their eyes and mouth go!
Let it not go into the fruitful field, forest or garden!
Let it travel the route of the dark earth!
In the dark earth lie iron vessels.
Their lids are of lead.
Whatever goes into them,
does not come up again,
it perishes therein.
Unto my body may they
or their evil not draw near,
nor to any of those I hold dear.
May Yeqon’s kin commit
no evil before my eyes,
nor follow behind me.
Into my house may they not enter,
my fence may they not break through,
my property may they not trespass.
May they be kept out by Dionysos
the Liberator of Souls, and his Furious Host.

Amphilogos, you who stir up disputes, you who provoke
anger where it is not deserved, you who feed off of hatred
like a bloated tick, you who gorge yourself on the grief that
your whispered lies produce, you who would be known as
the bloodthirsty, the murderous, the sword of terrible vengeance,
I can only laugh at you! For I have been blessed by the God
of true sight, the Lord who inspires visions, the King whose word
is unwavering, and Dionysos has shown me who you actually are.
You are Amphilogos, the Pretender; you are not a wrath-spirit,
or even a sloth-spirit, nor do you belong to any of the other families
of vice! You are just a lonely wanderer of the wastes, desperate for
some acknowledgment, and so you harass those who are busy about
their prayers and devotions. You hope to lead them away
from their family and friends and set up division between them
and their Holy Powers, but don’t even realize that you have already
been defeated. The false images you vomit up, the disgusting falsehoods
you blow into people’s ears from your backside — they hold no power!
They are forgotten as soon as the stench of them has drifted away.
You think you are mighty, Amphilogos, because you got a human to think
bad things about themselves; you rejoice because you sowed discord
between friends or spouses? What pathetic accomplishments!
I would almost pity you if you had not allied yourself with the unmaker.
Instead I pray that Dionysos show you what real fury and thirst for blood
look like, as your sword is shattered and your screams fill the long night.

In the name of Dionysos Iatros,
and through the power of Dionysos Lusios,
may there be health and wholeness for NN.
And may the forty daughters of Capia,
each of which has power
over a different disease,
each of which inflicts
a different misery upon the body,
release any hold that you have over NN.
From wherever you came,
from wherever you crept,
I chase you out,
I conjure you out,
I curse you until you flee,
you wicked daughters
of a wicked mother.
Go to the woods,
go to the meadows,
go to the roads;
creep inside an asp,
creep inside a scorpion,
creep inside a toad;
just go away, away,
far away from NN,
and do not return,
in the name of Dionysos Lusios,
through the power of Dionysos Iatros.

Be gone, Empousa! Be gone! Be gone!
For I shall call upon my Lord Dionysos
who thwarts the devices and checks the power
that you might otherwise claim
over his Bacchants and initiates;
loathsome Empousa, who once was a slave
of the three-necked Goddess, until hate
and rebellion blossomed in your maggoty heart;
most hideous of your hideous sisters, Empousa
whose eyes are full of envy, division, and illness;
whose lolling tongue drips poison
more deadly than lies and rumors;
who can change your appearance at will
though always your single copper leg remains,
betraying your true identity to those who know;
Empousa who snatches children from their beds,
and does not return them alive;
who drags young men about to be married off
to your lair and copulates with them until
all of their beauty and vitality have been drained;
who appears to souls who have lost their way
and tries to lead them deeper into the darkness
and confusion of the underworld;
Dionysos defeated you Empousa
because he knew the secret meaning
of your true name, Onokōlē — and he will do it again!
It does not matter if you turn yourself into a mule,
a brazen bull, a beautiful woman, a dog,
or a bone-white snake, for he who is Lord of Life
will use your name against you, wicked spirit,
and transform you into a stinking pile of shit.
So be gone, Empousa! Be gone! Be gone!

O disheartening Dysthymia, dour and dishonest,
unloved and unwanted daughter of ashen Achlys,
who carries the torch for Thanatos, whose sole friend is Lyssa,
you who hate the rest of the Gods and revile all spirits,
which drives you to try and distract mankind from our divine service
stirring up in us resentment, pollution, apathy and other things
that keep us from approaching holy altars and sacred images,
and the trustworthy traditions that have been carefully passed down to us.

Against you stands Dionysos the joybringer, banisher of cares,
the one who stitches back together broken hearts,
and lifts those suffering from despair out of the slimy pit,
cleansing us of the muck and mire that clings to us
so that we may again shine as brilliantly as the stars in Heaven
with love for the Blessed Immortals and the life that has been given to us.

Flee, faithless fiend, for you shall not prevail!
Flee, feckless farrago, as everyone you’ve ever cared for has fled from you!
Flee, fumbling fool, or suffer your well-earned fate!

O Dysthymia, you who make the eyes of the sorrowing red
from a deluge of tears, and hollow our cheeks from forgetfulness
of the body’s needs; your power over us is broken, and Dionysos
will tear loose any hooks you still have in us, so that you can never
again darken our thoughts or torment our flesh.

O Dysthymia, you who make the grieving experience inescapable
isolation even in the midst of a crowd of friends and loved ones;
do you think your constricting walls are stronger than those of Pentheus’
Kadmean citadel which came crashing down when Dionysos roared,
freeing his madwomen trapped within? They are not!

O Dysthymia, who lays heavily upon the mourner like some
hideous hag, causing us to hunch our back and drag our foot,
assuming we can even find the strength to get out of bed;
Dionysos will pick you off like a speck of dust and fling you
so far away that you never find your way back to us again,
while we dance in celebration atop the forested mountain,
all the aches and pains you caused gone and forgotten.

O Dysthymia, who steals joy and courage, and fills the mind with fear
for things that have not yet happened and likely never will;
Dionysos has locked the doors of our ears and given us his potent
wine to drink, a healing drug that restores what you took from us.

O Dysthymia, who drains the color and vividness from experiences,
so that life feels stale and unreal; Dionysos will wake us up to the
wonders that surround us, and make things even more surreal.

O Dysthymia, who recreates for us the worst parts of the story of our
life over and over again, making it impossible to move on; Dionysos
can shatter the bonds that keep your own dolorous past repeating,
and help you to become all of the things that you could have been
had trauma not warped you, Dysthymia, if you would just agree
to leave humans alone and no longer interfere with our practice of piety.
Dionysos is a kind and generous God when not provoked; submit to him.

I praise the beautiful God, beloved of Ariadnē,
giver of wine and countless other blessings,
many-named Dionysos, Lord of manifestation,
living eternally, free of want and suffering,
the bull-horned Savior, unrivaled in ferocity,
protector of his people, who has said,
“May your soul be strong against adversity,
may you face your trials bravely,
may you never forget that you have the power
to smash and overthrow your foes,
no matter how numerous they may be.”
With his blessing I shall trample beneath my boot
the spirit of fear, the spirit of unbelief, the spirit of guile,
the spirit of division, the spirit of empty confidence,
the spirit of overindulgence, the spirit of laziness,
the spirit of insolence, the spirit of dejection,
and anything else that leads to impurity of mind and body,
so that I may experience his exquisite ecstasy
and revel with his blessed initiates on Mount Nysa
when my time comes to join them.