Incantation…ZAP!

 


Go get 'em, Tiger!


So a while back, mostly as a joke, I bought some “curse reversing” candles. Are you familiar with those? They have black wax at the top and red wax at the bottom and you’re supposed to burn them all the way down. Then, supposedly, if anyone has put a curse on you, the hex is not only broken but sent back to the person who, er, hexed you.


Like I say, mostly it was a joke. Which was good thing because after I burned them nothing much happened.  None of my personal enemies suddenly imploded, and several awful human beings who currently occupy far too prominent positions in American politics remain alive and well.


When I mentioned this on Facebook, a friend of mine wrote back to say that my problem was obvious. To wit, I hadn’t read an incantation while I lit the candles. 


I realized, of course, that she was perfectly correct, and I went in search of a workable curse to read. Fortunately, I remembered seeing one in The Dictionary Of Angels, Including the Fallen Angels, by Gustav Davidson.* It is from The Sword Of Moses, a famous magical text from the 13th or 14th century, and is quite graphic, maybe a little too much so. Anyway, here is the original version:


A DEATH INCANTATION


I call thee, Evil Spirit, Cruel Spirit, Merciless Spirit; I call thee, who sittest in the cemetery and takes away healing from man. Go and place a knot in [N—-’s] head, in his eyes, in his mouth, in his tongue, in his windpipe, and put poisonous water in his belly. If you do not go and put water in his belly, I shall send against you the evil angels Puziel, Guziel, Psdiel, Prsiel. I call thee and those six knots that you go quickly to [N—-], sandpit poisonous water in this belly and kill [N——] because I wish it. Amen. Amen. Seliah.



Like I say, a little too graphic maybe. But I thought I’d rewrite along the following Iines: 



I call thee, Spirit of Sheer Bad Luck and Political Irrelevancy. I call thee to curse a certain carrot-colored would-be dictator and his psychotic political party and their lunatic sycophants in Congress. May not a single Deplorable be found to vote for them. May their every press conference be mis-booked at the Four Seasons. May their hair dye dribble down their white shirts. May they be sent to a jail where the jumpsuits are as orange as his hair. May they be flushed down their own damn golden toilet. May they  find impotence and oblivion. And this I ask not because I wish it but because they really, Really, REALLY deserve it.


And a whole lot worse.


Amen. Amen. Selah.


So there you have it. A genuine curse. Well, one actual curse and my silly one. But, if you should get the urge to repeat either one, be my guest. 


Probably won’t help, but can’t hurt.


~mjt



*Source: 


The Dictionary Of Angels, Including the Fallen Angels, by Gustav Davidson, The Free Press, New York and London, 1967.



Copyright@2021 Michael Jay Tucker 

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