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...and step slow-w-wly back from the tome. Then turn and run like h*** outta the book store.
That's the drill we all go through when perusing volumes of magick and the occult, at some point. What's your tip-off that the promisingly entitled book there on the shelf isn't for you after all? Me, I gots two litmus tests:
1) if the introduction contains words like "nurture," "healing journey," "loving god(s)" or any other vocables that sound as if molded from form rubber.
2) when the list of props and implements is longer than the rite using them and consists solely of objects rarer now than in the days of ol' Mansoor Hallaj, when they were already scarcer than phoenix-egg omelettes. E.g., a sable-black (not jet-black!) robe of Peruvian spider silk, a burnished rhodium triangle inscribed with the original Enochian in the penmanship of Edward Kelly (NOT Dr. Dee!), a scrying mirror fashioned from the laminated carapaces of Transvaal scorpions.
These may be personal idiosyncrasies of mine, but y'all fess up. What makes you cut 'n run when you gawp at that ol' grimoire there in Mistress Miskatonic's Occultated Arcanium & Book Store?
That's the drill we all go through when perusing volumes of magick and the occult, at some point. What's your tip-off that the promisingly entitled book there on the shelf isn't for you after all? Me, I gots two litmus tests:
1) if the introduction contains words like "nurture," "healing journey," "loving god(s)" or any other vocables that sound as if molded from form rubber.
2) when the list of props and implements is longer than the rite using them and consists solely of objects rarer now than in the days of ol' Mansoor Hallaj, when they were already scarcer than phoenix-egg omelettes. E.g., a sable-black (not jet-black!) robe of Peruvian spider silk, a burnished rhodium triangle inscribed with the original Enochian in the penmanship of Edward Kelly (NOT Dr. Dee!), a scrying mirror fashioned from the laminated carapaces of Transvaal scorpions.
These may be personal idiosyncrasies of mine, but y'all fess up. What makes you cut 'n run when you gawp at that ol' grimoire there in Mistress Miskatonic's Occultated Arcanium & Book Store?