Black Arts Rite Of Chaos & Law + Eternal Balance
It was RedJack’s birthday, September 18th, 2017. He didn’t much like birthdays as twelve years before he’d been robbed at knife point in London on his birthday. And the balefulness of this event had stuck with him.
But this birthday it would be different.
I’d arranged for RedJack and I, along with natural witch, Pip DeBelfry, to head out into the Norfolk countryside to perform a dark shamans journey with the intent of empowerment using freeform “unconscious” sorcery. In the words of Rabelais, we would “do what we will,” and see where it rolled.
As twilight fell I drove the three of us out to the site of old ramshackle airfield at Rackheath, some seven miles out of Norwich in Eastern England, where Consolidated Liberator airplanes flew from in World War Two. The dilapidated airstrip reaches out to the deep countryside and has a number of copses of trees surrounding it. It’s an atmospheric site situated in the sprawling flatlands of Norfolk.
We set off to our selected magickal landscape to evoke the lords of chaos and order, and seek the crystalline pinpoint that is the equilibrium between the two conflicting forces of the multiverse.
RedJack is an interesting character. He’d had great success in the 2000s on the internet by blogging about his colourful life, which at the time heavily involved magick and the occult, indirect hypnosis, and a good deal of drugs. All of which led to his downfall around 2007.
He’d fallen prey to the conceit of many magicians before him, and had come close to madness…
But now he’s getting back on track, and tonight’s magick was geared to RedJack revitalizing his career back to its former glory, but in a more balanced way… so he dances on the crystalline pinpoint of equilibrium, rather than spiraling into the extremes of chaos.
I locked up my car and we walked across the airstrip to the old USAF service road where our magickal journey would begin.
RedJack’ phone rang. He answered and it was an old friend, Ricky, calling to wish him a happy birthday. Although pleased to hear from his old friend, he didn’t see the call as significant at the time, but it would prove highly relevant by the end of the evening.
Opening the Gates
The first thing we did was to “open the gates” to ritually set the scene for our magickal journey. I pointed to each of the four cardinal directions, saying:
“Open the gates of the East, the rising sun. Open the gates of the south, the midday sun. Open the gates of the west, the setting sun. Open the gates of the north, the midnite sun.”
I then pointed above and below, opening the gates of the higher worlds and the nether worlds, ending by saying:
“As we stand between the worlds, amidst the swirling dimensions of the multiverse, so we let the magick begin…”
Walking the Road
The twilight was beginning to fade to darkness as we walked the potholed concrete service road towards the clump of trees in the near distance. To one side of the service road was a long row of trees, to the other the flatlands, and the dark clouds floating ominously above.
RedJack said: “I can see the faces of the great deities of law and chaos staring down at us, overseeing the lunatic affairs of humans… watching, but uncaring about their feeble, insignificant machinations…”
At that moment, through the row of trees, I saw a bright light in the sky moving towards us, totally silent. We watched as it came towards us, and then it transformed into a passenger plane and you could hear its engines.
It was an omen that the magick had begun…
RedJack then pointed to the trees and said, “The undines and sylphs look on with dancing eyes.”
As we neared the start of the large clump of trees, where we were headed, we found a mound of mud had been piled up, giving off a horrible smell of decay and rottenness.
RedJack commented: “The foul stench of the chaos lords, their archetype taken to its furthest extreme… out of balance and rotten to the core.”
As we walked towards the other side of the copse, the foul stench subsided and the air was fresh again. At that point, I heard sounds from another clump of trees about a quarter-mile away. It sounded like young people, perhaps having a party of some kind. But some of the shouts were happy, others sounded more like distress.
Pip said: “Playful spirits, perhaps?” But then she noticed a more ominous sound like the cracking of a whip.
“Playful spirits invaded by the dark lords…” I said.
We skirted round to the far side of the copse and came to an open area facing a large field of crops. The last vestiges of the sunset lit the field slightly.
It was the perfect place to perform our magick…
The three of us stood facing the sprawling field. RedJack stepped forward first to perform his magick. Laying various personal items on the concrete, he called upon the forces of law and chaos, and equilibrium… and spoke of fulfilling his manifest destiny. Finally, he hurled his items into the field, almost like an offering to John Barleycorn, the spirit of the fields.
When RedJack had finished, Pip DeBelfry walked forwards and did her natural magick, without words, just communing with nature, and immersing herself in the landscape, soaking up its powers, and becoming one with the deep spirit of the place.
Then it was my turn. I stepped forwards, holding an array of poppet dolls, talismans, and sigil-bombed dollars. Like RedJack, I called upon the deities of chaos and law, and invoked the concept of dancing upon the crystalline pinpoint of equilibrium, the balance between the forces of chaos and order… finally hurling my items into the field.
When we were done, we stood in silence, shadowy figures in the darkness, soaking up the energy of what we’d unleashed.
We then walked further around the large wooded area and found three cars parked up… nobody about. But somewhat ominous.
At that moment, I heard voices in the distance and saw the dancing light of a torch. Clearly it was the car owners. We circled around the copse, and headed up a narrow dirt track. But it was obvious the car owners were aware of our presence as I heard one say, “They’re just fucking walking.”
Next thing we knew, they drove their cars up the muddy dirt track after us. Some baleful force had been unleashed with our magick working – my suspicion being it was the extreme end of the forces of order, not chaos (that was more our remit). And there was no escape. The three cars drove fast along the soggy dirt track, thankfully going past us, but seeing us in the beams of their headlamps.
As the cars got up to the end of the dirt track, they recognized there was a big risk they’d get stuck in the mud. One of the drivers shouted: “Can’t go no further, otherwise the car’ll get stuck.”
Then another driver shouted at RedJack, “are you the landowner or farmer?”
“No,” came back RedJack.
The car drivers were young, maybe early twenties, and it was likely they’d been smoking weed… if it was skunk they were probably very paranoid, and wondering who we were and what we were doing there.
This was a risky situation. The impression I had was they were weighing up whether to attack us. I wasn’t sure how many of them there were. Three cars could mean twelve guys… twelve against three. Not good odds…
Protective “Power Bomb”
But unbeknown to RedJack and I, Pip had done a protection working for us all back at the area we’d performed our magick.
She’d got a white poppet doll she’d made earlier, and had searched for appropriate leaves to wrap it in. She eventually found some sycamore leaves which intuitively felt right.
She then saw a perfectly circular puddle of water and consecrated the leaf-wrapped poppet doll amulet in it. Then she pushed it into some earth, waved it in the night air, and finally ran it through the flame from her lighter.
Being a natural witch Pip doesn’t plan anything; it’s all intuitive magick, very much of the realm of earth… she’s a protective, nurturing force… and she was protecting us, although when she prepared this amulet she had no idea about the three cars and what was coming. Her instincts told her to perform a protective ritual.
Once the cars gunned away, we continued up the soggy dirt track, and got back to the service road. Within minutes, though, the three cars made their return, again searching for us.
We quickly went into a gap in the row of trees that ran alongside the service road, hoping they wouldn’t see us. Fortunately, they went past and drove back to the airstrip.
We eventually came out of our hiding place. RedJack was a little unnerved as it was almost a repeat of his birthday twelve years before during which he’d been robbed at knifepoint.
Pip told him there was no need to worry because of the Protective “Power Bomb” she’d made with sycamore and ritually charged.
So we decided to walk back up to the airstrip and back to my car – despite the three cars still hanging around. If there was to be a violent confrontation, then so be it.
But as luck would have it we saw them drive off back to the main road.
With some relief, we did a “closing the gates” ritual, and walked back to my car. Pip asked if there time to have a cigarette before we left. RedJack said yes. But a moment later changed his mind.
“I think we should go,” he said.
I agreed and started the car and drove to the main road.
Just as we were leaving, I noticed in my mirror a car turning into the airstrip… The three cars were back. We’d got out in the nick of time.
When we got back into the city, RedJack said he realised the significance of the call he received from his old friend, Ricky, who had looked after him after he was robbed at knifepoint twelve years back.
“It’s a weird coincidence that Ricky called just before we did our magick. It’s like what happened tonight was a big reversal of those events twelve years back. Those three cars left just as we approached. It’s like we’d pushed away the baleful forces, and everything was renewed, the crystalline pinpoint of equilibrium was restored. And the past was laid to rest.”
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