DR SNAKE'S VOODOO SPELLBOOK 9781999843106

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Dr. Snake’s

Voodoo Spellbook

www.DoktorSnake.com www.DoktorSnake.io

Doktor Snake’s Voodoo Spellbook was first published over fifteen years ago. Within months of hitting the streets, the book became a cult bestseller. Back then there was nothing out there that clearly set out Voodoo and Hoodoo in an accessible and usable way. You either had dodgy pamphlets, which were poorly produced and which had been endlessly reprinted from the 1930s or academic books...none told you how to do it. The Voodoo Spellbook was hip, sassy, and rock and roll. Doktor Snake is rightly proud of the interest in Voodoo and Hoodoo it generated. Richly illustrated, Doktor Snake’s Voodoo Spellbook was originally published by St Martin’s Press in the U.S. and by Connections in the UK. This new edition from Evil Publishing is fully updated and includes a good deal of new material, from true life stories and anecdotes to spells and magical workings. And all the illustrations have been freshly sourced for this new edition. Michael J. Pascoe Evil Publishing

Doktor Snake’s

voodoo spellbook Spells, Curses & Folk Magic For All Your Needs

First published in the USA by St Martin’s Press 2000 This edition published in the UK 2017 by Evil Publishing © Copyright Doktor Snake All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher. The right of Doktor Snake to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

This book is dedicated to the memory of Earl Marlowe, a magical man and keeper of the lore. And to Pip de Belfry, echoing the words of Lou Rhodes: “Coz heaven brought us here to love with all we are...”

Con te n ts I N T ROD U C T ION

SONG OF THE SNA K E  11 F OR E WOR D

T W ILIGHT BELIEV ER  15 C H A P T E R ON E

THE A RT OF CONJ UR E  19 Mind Control  19 Trance 20 How to Enter Trance  21 Practice, Practice, Practice  22 Skeleton Dance Induction  23 Your Hoodoo Altar  23 Setting up your Altar  24 Attuning Your Tools  26 How to Make Holy Water  26 Purification 27 Incense Smoke  27 Holy Water  27 Rituals and Spells  28 Ritual Framework  29 Enter Trance  29 Set Your Intention  29 Open the Ritual  30 Cast Your Spell  30 Close the Ritual  31

Hyssop Cleansing Bath  32 Where to Do Rituals  33 Graveyard 33 Crossroads 33 When to Do Rituals  33 Time Frames to consider are  34 Conjure Methods  36 How to Make a Voodooo Doll  36 Candle Magic  37 Spell Tapes  39 Sigil Magic  40 The Singing Turtle  42

C H A P T E R T WO

Magic Money  43 Charles the Grinder  45 Money Spells  50 High John the Conqueror Root  50 Cash Collector  51 Buckeye Charm  52 Creating a Money Spell Tape  54 Lucky Money Doll  55 Crafting your Money Sigil  56 Lucky Santeros  59 The Lucky Coin  60

Attract a Specific Person  77 Overcome Unrequited Love  79 Keeping Love  80 To Bind a Lover to You  80 Gypsy Love Binding Spell  80 Red Witch “Evermore” Spell  81 Getting Love Back  82 Bring Back a Lover  82 Cake to Return a Lost Lover or Husband 84 For Women  84 Celebrity Love Voodoo  85 Manhood Jinxer Spell  86 Rite of the Succubi  88 Rabbit and the Herb Doctor  90

CH AP TER THR EE

CH A P TER FOUR

MONEY M AGIC  43

W IN NING LOV E  67

THE DEV IL’ S PAC T  93

From Sex to Soulmates  67 Marie Laveau – Voodoo Queen  68 Sex Conjure  70 Seduction Oil  72 Attracting Love  72 St Valentine’s Day Spellworking  72 Love Doll Ritual  73 Step 3: Name the Candles  74 Love Attraction Charm  76 Needle Love Spell  77

Part I - The Crossroads  93 Fame and Fortune Rite  99 Crossroads Magic  100 Hoodoo Bluesman  100 Beware the Ghost of Robert Johnson   101 Snakeman’s Blues  102 Part II - Sealing the Deal  103 Rock Star Wannabe Makes a Pact with Satan/The Devil  107

What Price your Soul?  112 Part III - Demons and Ancestors  116 The Seven Obsidian Kings  119 Demon Biker  129

Banishing the Evil Eye  150 Seven African Powers Incense  150 Evil Eye Eliminator  150 Crossbones Amulet   151

CH AP TER FIV E

CH A P TER SEV EN

HE A LING HOODOO  131

SH A DOW M AGIC  153

Natural Illneses  132 Cough and Cold Remedy  132 Pomegranate Tonic  132 Marigold Tonic  133 Doctor Yah Yah’s Violet Charm  134 To Calm the Nerves  134 Heal-All Spell  135 Healing Power of Santeria  136 Occult Illnesses  137 Divining a Hex  139 Uncrossing Spell  140 Spiritual Illness  141 Addiction 141

Cursing, Jinxing and Hexing  153 Foot Track Magic  154 Crossing and Jinxing  155 Candle Burning Rituals  155 Chewing the Root  156 Suffering Root  157 Warning off an Enemy  159 Bad Neighbors  159 Bad Neighbor Blaster  160 Bad Neighbor Nuker  161 Dr Alexander’s Death Curse  163 The Dangers of Cursing  164 High Level Hexing  165

CH A P TER SI X

C H A P T E R E IG H T

THE EV IL EY E  143

SOOTHSAY ING 167

The Girl with the Evil Eye  143 Worldwide Belief  145 Fear and Loathing in the Suburbs  146 Jinxed Automobile  148

Card Reading  167 Fanny Mosebury  168 The Cards  171 The Four‑Card Spread  176

Self-Reading 177 Card Conjure  177 Soothsaying with Dominoes  178 Visionary Divining  179 Oracles of Santeria  180 The World Behind the Mirror  183 Brer Rabbit and the Bone Trick  183 CH AP TER NINE

VOODOO SPIR ITS  185 Transcendence 191 Papa Legba  192 Trickster (Slight Return)  192

A F T E RWOR D

VOODOO WA R  195 A P P E N DI X

Fur ther Reading  213 Suppl iers 215 Music Tracks  216 About the Author  217

INTRODUC TION

SONG OF THE SNAKE “Hoodoo is about having a healthy disregard for the impossible.” Dr. Snake to the Alliance of Magicians, Mystics and Outlaws, Miami, 1997

Greetings! I’m Doktor Snake, a conjure man living on the east side of paradise, where a Hoodoo sun shines and a lucky mojo rain falls. I’m sitting here on my back porch—Fender Telecaster guitar in hand; old analog tape deck set to record—reciting stories, spells and conjure formulas from the Hoodoo and Voodoo tradition. I wanted to create a unique treasury of all the knowledge, adventures and discoveries from over three decades of practising voodoo and hoodoo for those curious enough to want to know— and this is it: the book you are holding in your hands right now. My spellbook is primarily a book of folk magic, or “Hoodoo” as they call it in the American South. However, I have also taken inspiration from the various strands of Afro-American and Afro-Caribbean spirituality such as Voodoo, Santeria and Macumba. 11

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Hoodoo magic unashamedly places great emphasis on the attainment of personal magic power, so practitioners of Hoodoo never sit back and accept their lot in life—they change it as they see fit using sorcery or “conjure”. Accordingly, the core attitude of my spellbook is practicality. It gets you started in casting spells that will help you gain money and prosperity, love and sex, and health and well-being. You will also be empowered to bring back a lost lover, repel enemies and avert the evil eye. Plus we go into making a pact with the Devil for fame and fortune, reveal the demonic secrets of the Grimoire of the Seven Obsidian Kings and how outlaw biker Johnny Redstone cheated death to reside in the netherworld on the far western reaches of the etheric plane. However, before you can use results magic to your advantage, you will need to learn the basics of the art of conjure. Therefore you’ll get clear instructions on how to use roots, potions and herbal baths; how to construct Voodoo dolls and cast spells; and how to set up a simple altar. Along with outlining the basics of sigil (glyph) magic and other types of freeform sorcery. Besides learning the art of conjure, you’ll get to “listen in” on some personal stories from actual practitioners of Hoodoo and Voodoo sorcery that I was told over the last 35 years. Also, so that you get the “Big Picture” I’ve included some of the myths and legends which underpin New World magic and religion. The system of folk magic outlined in this book has its roots in African magic and religion, which arrived in the New World between the 16th and 19th centuries with the slaves. In a bid to avoid persecution for their pagan beliefs, the slaves superimposed their gods onto the Christianity of their masters. This fusion led to the formation of various spiritual traditions. In Brazil it gave birth to Macumba and Candomble; in Cuba to Santeria and Nyannego; in Jamaica to Bongoism and African Cumina (also known as Maroon Dance); in Trinidad to Shango; in Haiti to Voudoun (Voodoo); and in the United States to Hoodoo. Many other influences played an integral part in the formation of these religions. For instance, South American Indian beliefs along with the Spiritism of Allan Kardec, which was popular in the late 19th century, had key roles in the development of Macumba in Brazil; while the Jewish 12

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and pagan folklore of the European immigrants to the United States, coupled with the plant and herb lore of Native American shamanism, featured strongly in Hoodoo folk magic practice. So, with all this knowledge of the unseen magical world, and the spells, potions and recipes that allow you to connect with it, you can begin to develop your personal power and be the creative, magical, force in your own life. You’ll finally have access to the life you’ve imagined but had eluded you. And imagine one beyond that for you to create. I humbly hope that this book will also act as a catalyst, leading you to discover a rich and diverse spirit way which is open to all that take the time and energy to seek it, no matter what your colour or creed. An important element in New World sorcery is the belief that names are imbued with magical power. In The African Presence in Caribbean Literature, Edward Kamau Braithwaite explains: “People feel a name is so important that a change in his name could transform a person’s life.” Faith in the secret power of the name is nowhere more evident than in Hoodoo magic. It is the reason why Hoodoo doctors adopt animal names such as Dr. Crow and Dr. Snake (like the African witch doctor, they assume the name of the bird or beast from which they draw their power). For the Hoodoo doctor, taking on a new name is a way of shaping personal destiny. Similarly, blues musicians like Muddy Waters, Lightnin’ Hopkins and Howlin’ Wolf took on their names as an act of magical transformation. Even though New World magic has its roots in Africa, white people have also been practitioners of this ancient art. One of the most famous was Sheriff Ed McTeer whom you will meet in Chapter Five. I myself am a white man. I came to the conjure path due to playing guitar in a band with a Trinidadian singer and Hoodooist called Earl Marlowe. When I first knew him, Earl looked to be in his early sixties (although he claimed to be 127). He was a very picturesque character. His head was shaved and he regularly wore purple-tinted aviator sunglasses. Sometimes he would wear sharp Italian suits, other times colorful African robes. 13

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During our association together, Earl told me many sorcery-related stories about the Caribbean and the American South (where he lived before settling in England). He also taught me much about the trade of the Hoodoo doctor. This, coupled with my own study of African and New World religion, proved invaluable as, after Earl died, many of his clients came to me asking for help. At first I was reluctant, lacking confidence in my abilities, but then a friend of Earl, an old West Indian guy who ran a domino club, said to me, “Earl handed his mantle down to you. You might not know it, but he did.” With that, he gave me a silver snake ring, telling me that Earl had entrusted it to him just before he left this world, with instructions that it be given to me. After that, I spent two weeks in deep meditation, burning oils and incenses, and communing with the spirits. The result was that I took the magical name Doktor Snake and became a professional witch doctor. Doktor Snake The Name With No Man

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FOR EWOR D

TWILIGHT BELIEVER

Let me tell you the story of how I walked into a “moment of power” and became a Voodoo conjure man. On that fateful day I caught a glimpse of the dancing glimmersparks that whirl on the shimmering strands of destiny...and my life changed forever. It all began in the early 1980s. I was 19. A struggling musician and writer living in a shabby, one-room apartment in North London, England. All I owned were the clothes I had on (a pair of Levis and a leather biker jacket), my guitars (a Fender Stratocaster and Gibson acoustic) and a Marshall valve amp—plus a beat-up motorcycle for getting around. I didn’t have a job. I just wrote songs and stories and played my guitars. Which meant I was excruciatingly poor and got so hungry that more than once I came dangerously close to selling those guitars. Close. But I never caved in. 15

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As time went by, I began to wonder whether I’d ever have any money; whether anyone would believe in me; whether even just one door would open for me. Then, one day, there came a loud knocking at my door. When I opened it standing there was an incredible sight. A big, bald-headed black man who looked about 60 years old. He was wearing a feathered jacket, had a bone pendant hanging around his neck and jewelled rings on his fingers. “Hey, man,” he said. “You the guitar player? Want to play for my band?” “Why not,” I said. “Great. Get your stuff. We gotta gig tonight,” he said. “We play blues, calypso, and reggae.” The gig was at a London club and we had an audience of around of a thousand people, which was the biggest crowd I’d ever played for. It was scary and I don’t know how I did it, but I managed to wing my way through the gig. I’d never felt more happy. At the end of the gig the big flamboyant black man introduced himself properly. His name was Earl Marlowe, a singer and percussionist who had grown up in Trinidad. He’d also spent some time living in the Southern States of America before he settled in London. After that we started playing gigs regularly together. We’d been gigging in London for about three months when we decided to have a day out. We took a trip to a public park in the grounds of an old country house to the north of the capital called Trent Park. As we walked through the rolling meadows, soaking up the heat of summer, a strange dreamy atmosphere fell upon us. We sat down on a bench, sipped from cans of Bud, and talked. Earl told me that, besides being a singer, he was a Hoodoo man—a witch doctor. “My grandfather in Trinidad was a sorcerer,” he said. “He taught me the art of conjure, which some call Voodoo and Hoodoo. Fact is, he was a trickster shaman, an upside-down man, who seemed duck-rabbit crazy most of the time.” 16

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I sat enthralled as he recounted some of the most amazing tales. Every one of which, he assured me, was true.

He told me about dream travel, where you learn to wake up during your dreams and gain control of them. “If you practice enough you can travel anywhere in the world and beyond in your spirit body.”

He also told me about how he had used Voodoo to get money when he needed it. And how he once “conjure-charmed” a beautiful woman into his life.

“But it turned out bad,” he said. “Ain’t no good conjurin’ women into your bed when the real, true magic of love ain’t there.” Many of his stories were so far-fetched that, to me, at least, they were beyond belief.

He sensed my skepticism and laughed, “You wait and see.” He reached over and touched my forehead. Then whacked me hard on the back of my neck. Dazed, I fell face-forward onto the grass.

A second or two later I found myself hovering in the air, staring down at my lifeless body lying on the ground. Earl was nowhere to be seen.

I was terrified. Panic ricocheted through me.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move in the grass. It was a snake—an adder—and it was crawling towards my body.

I struggled to get back down to the physical me. I couldn’t. I was frantic. The snake was sliding closer and closer. Even though I knew adders keep well away from humans in normal circumstances, these weren’t ‘normal’ circumstances. It was going to bite! I watched helpless from above as the snake struck...

Then I jolted awake—back in my body.

Earl was sitting close by, staring intently at me.

I leapt up, frantically looking for the snake bite. “A snake bit me!” I yelled. 17

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Earl waved to me to calm down and sit down. I took a breath and sat down. Then he said, very seriously: “You were bitten, but you won’t find the mark. Not on your skin,

at least. You were bitten in the spirit. That snake was your power animal. It’s marked you out

for the Voodoo conjure path. Your life will never be the same again - believe me.”

And in saying that Earl Marlowe became my teacher and mentor on the path of Voodoo

conjure.

At the day’s end, the sun had sunk low in the western sky, and I knew I’d caught a glimpse of the whirling glimmersparks that dance on the edge of fate and reality. I had become a twilight believer.

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CH A P TER ONE

THE ART OF CONJURE “Anything may be conjure and nothing may be conjure…” Zora Neale Hurston, Mules and Men, 1935

It should come as no surprise that before you can start to use Hoodoo spells to conjure up the money, power, sex and love you desire you’re going to have to learn and practice the basics. In this chapter you’ll learn all the basic tools, frameworks and skillsets you’ll need to start working your own magic.

MI N D CON T ROL The very first thing we need to deal with is the habit that blocks the chance of any real magic from ever happening. You see, in order for you to become adept at Voodoo sorcery you must tame those wayward thoughts and impulses that lead you into all sorts of trouble or unwanted situations. Instead, you must learn to become impeccable and unshakable in your words and actions on this earth. And at the same time maintain the ability to be spontaneous—to speak and act as the spirit dictates. 19

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Now, this all requires a precarious mental balance—but have no doubts this “poise of mind” can be attained through effective practice of Hoodoo conjuration. So, to get started in the art of conjure you’re going to learn how to exercise some control over your mind so you’re no longer at the mercy of those wayward thoughts and impulses.

T R A NCE

One of the simplest ways to begin is by learning how to direct your attention and focus in a way that naturally leads you into trance. One of the things that trance does is put you in touch with your unconscious mind, which is the wellspring of instinctive and intuitive wisdom. The unconscious mind believes wholeheartedly in magic and the supernatural; whereas its rational and materialistic counterpart, the conscious mind (or “ego-self”) does not. To execute magic successfully, we need to believe in it 100 per cent. Therefore we must escape the rationalistic confines of the conscious mind and, through trance, enter the visionary world of the unconscious mind. My Hoodoo mentor, Earl Marlowe, put it this way: “You gotta believe for the magic to work. Don’t matter if no one else believes, so long as you do. If you don’t believe, and you wanna work conjure, you gotta keep mesmerizin’ yourself till you do believe.” When you perform sorcery, it is important to ensure the chatter of your mind is stilled. You don’t want your inner-voice distracting you with the concerns of the day. By focusing attention, trance induction techniques facilitate the stilling of the internal dialogue. So if you get distracted by your inner-voice when performing spell work, simply re-run whatever trance induction you used.

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How to Enter Trance

The main method I use for entering a state of trance was taught to me by Earl. It is straightforward and can easily be mastered by the beginner. 1. Sit down comfortably and relax. A good way to achieve a state of relaxation quickly is to make your out-breaths a little longer than your in-breaths. 2. Find something to fix your gaze on. Try using a candle flame or a crystal - any convenient object will do. 3. Now make three statements (out loud or to yourself) about what you can see. This is your visual experience. If your gaze is fixed on a candle, you might say: “I see a colored halo around the flame.” 4. Make three statements about what you can hear. This is your auditory experience. You might say: “I hear the birds singing outside my window” or “I hear the sound of my breath as I inhale and exhale.” 5. Make three statements about what you can feel. This is your kinesthetic experience. You might say, “I feel the warmth of my hands resting on my thighs.” 6. Run through each of the three primary senses again, making two, then one, new statement about each. If your eyes get drowsy, allow them to close and substitute internal visualization (what’s you see in your mind’s eye) for external. 7. Now perform your ritual - gentle opening your eyes if they closed during the induction. When your ritual is complete, you can come out of the hypnotic state by simply counting down from five to one and saying “Wake up!” 21

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Practice, Practice, Practice In fact, once you have done it a few times, you no longer need to go through the ritual of it. You just have to think, “I’ll go into trance now”, and you’re in. As long as circumstances allow, always go into a trance before commencing ritual or spell work. Using this technique, most people drift into a trance very quickly, usually before they have finished the second or third run through the sensory channels. You will know you are in a trance when mild “dreaminess” overtakes you and visions begin to flow past your mind’s eye. Don’t worry about the apparent “depth” of your trance; sometimes it will seem deep and profound, other times mild. The main thing is that you feel relaxed and at ease. It’s worth noting that trance is a part of everyday life. Look at people on the tube or on buses and you’ll see their eyes are glazed. They’re in their own private fantasy world - as no doubt are you when on public transport! This is as deep a trance as any hypnotherapist could put you in. Trance can also be used to gain contact with the spirits. In fact, what marks out a fully-fledged conjuror is his or her ability to see, hear and deal constructively with the spirits—because that’s when you really start getting things done. The Skeleton Dance is a technique that has long been used, in one form or another, by spiritual traditions worldwide; in fact, it can be traced back to shamans in Paleolithic times. The fact that Earl used is simply shows that Hoodoo and Voodoo workers use whatever works in their magic. Once you are proficient at entering trance and stopping the internal dialogue, it is time to set up a Hoodoo altar. 22

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Skeleton Dance Induction Earl taught me another good method for inducing a state of trance. He called it the “Skeleton Dance” because it involved “dancing” the focus of your attention over your bones. “What you do is simple,” he said. “You imagine your skeleton and then, starting with the toes, picture in your mind’s eye each bone in your body. From the toes you work your way up both legs at once. Flow into the pelvis. Shoot up the spine. Swoop across the ribs. Sail down the arms; ride back up to the shoulders, then up the neck to the skull, and right into the center of the brain - which, from a medical textbook point of view, isn’t a bone, but wha’da they know?”

YOU R HOODOO A LTA R

The altar serves as your own personal microcosm of the vast macrocosm of the multiverse. It is your small doorway into the magnitude of creation. If the spirits are willing, it may be possible for your spiritual self to step right through this doorway and enter the astral world. Once there, you may learn something of the incomprehensible secrets of how Nature and the cosmos work. If this is the case, this knowledge will enable you to use your altar as a focus for manipulating aspects of fate and destiny, both in your own life and in the lives of people you do spells or jobs for. Even if the spirits do not decree that you learn the secrets of the astral world, you can still utilize a Hoodoo altar for performing conjure and spells that will enhance your life and the lives around you. 23

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Set ting up your A lta r Any flat surface can be used for an altar - a wooden box, tea chest, coffee table, a piece of board propped up on bricks. Most convenient, however, is a dressing table, partly because it is the ideal size, and also because your ritual supplies can be stored in the top drawer. Here is a list of items for a basic Hoodoo altar set-up. This list is a guide, not the written law. Please feel free to use your intuition, combined with solid research, to come up with your own individual methods of working. There is only one rule in Voodoo and Hoodoo: use whatever works for you. White Candle

This signifies the positive forces inherent within the multiverse.

Black Candle

This signifies the negative forces inherent within the multiverse.

Glass Tumbler

Fill this with spring water and Witch’s Salt and place it between the white and black candles. It signifies the “gray” area, or equilibrium point, between the positive and negative forces of creation that are represented by the black and white candles. The Witch’s Salt, for me at least, symbolizes the magic worker or “seer”, who can perceive these invisible polarities as they flow throughout the multiverse, continually combining and separating as they do so.

Tin Foil

Place a strip of this under figurine candles, so the dripping wax doesn’t damage the surface you are working on.

Knife 24

Use a sharp knife to trim candles, wood and roots.

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Saucers or plates

Two or three saucers or plates will come in handy as makeshift candle-holders.

Candle snuffer

Always use a candle snuffer to put out candles - never blow them out.

Incense burner

You can buy incense burners from spiritual supply stores or New Age shops. However, any heat-resistant dish or bowl, the size of a cup, will do fine (if not better). This should be half-filled with sand or earth. The sand or earth will absorb the heat generated from the burning incense and will prevent scorching your altar. Then break up a tablet of charcoal (available from spiritual incense or herbs of your choice on top of the smoldering embers. As a convenient alternative, you can use self-lighting incense.

Dip pen and inks

These are used for writing out your magical intentions and requests during spell workings. Appropriate inks to use are Dragon’s Blood Ink or Dove’s Blood Ink. Some conjure workers use their own blood.

Parchment paper

You write your requests on parchment paper and then place them under a candle during rituals. I use top-quality writing paper, but sheepskin parchment is more traditional.

Holy water

Use this to bless and purify your magical tools and the area you are working in. Holy water can be purchased from religious or spiritual supply stores. Alternatively, you can make it yourself (see below).

Nails

Scales

Use 4 or 5 inch nails (about 12 cm) to write on candles. Make sure you have plenty of brand-new nails as you need to use a different nail for each spell. These are handy for weighing out quantities of herbs, roots and powders. 25

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Pestle and mortar Other supplies

These are ideal for grinding up herbs before using them. You will need a supply of candles, incenses, oils, powders and herbs. You will hear these mentioned throughout the spell book.

At t uning Your Tools When collecting the above items it is a good idea to “attune” yourself to them. Picture in your mind the uses they will be put to. Hold one or both hands (palms down) about half-an-inch over each item. Feel the items energy emanating into your hands, and also imagine in your mind’s eye your own deep subconscious energies entering each item. (This can be visualized as a white, silver or golden flow of energy—or whatever colour feels right to you.)

How to Make Holy Water Holy water is used to purify, or consecrate, your Voodoo altar. It can be bought from any spiritual or church supply store, but to make your own is just as effective. All you need is some sea salt and a bowl of spring water. Here’s what you do: 1. First put a tablespoon of sea salt in a saucer. Then hold both hands palms down, over the salt. Visualize white light flowing from the bright blue skies above, through your head and body, and out through your palms into the salt. As you do so, recite this chant: “Blessed be this salt of the sea may everything it touches be pure and true.” 2. Now hold both hands, palms down, over your bowl of spring water. Again visualize a white light flowing through you and out through your 26

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palms into the water. This time say the following chant: “Primed and ready this water of life, may all it touches be cleansed right through.” 3. Next slowly pour the salt into the spring water and stir the mixture, while intoning the chant: “Salt and water, holy blessed, cast out evil from all you touch.”

Pur if ication

Before proceeding further, you must purify or bless your magical tools. This both removes all unwanted influences from them and charges them with numinous power. In order to purify your tools you say a short chant (see below) as you pass them through incense smoke or sprinkle them with holy water (see above). You only need to purify your magical tools once, but do ensure that all new items are purified before you use them.

Incense Smoke

If you pass your magical equipment through incense smoke, then burn Blessing Incense or Purification Incense, or alternatively burn dried thyme (a good cleansing herb), and say the following chant: “O Spirits, as I offer up this incense for your blessings, please cleanse these tools and remove all unwanted influences from them. O Spirits, please also imbue these items with magical power.”

Holy Water

If you decide to sprinkle your magical tools with holy water, then recite this chant: “O Spirits, as I sprinkle this holy water, please banish all negativity from these magical tools and instill them with spiritual power.”

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If you are of the Catholic faith, (as many Voodooists are), when you are chanting feel free to substitute “O Spirits” with something more appropriate, such as “O Almighty God”, “O Lord Jesus” or “Our Lady”. Once the altar tools have been purified, you can set them out in an aesthetically pleasing manner on the altar. As a guideline, I suggest putting the black candle on the right-hand side at the back and the white candle on the left-hand side. Place the tumbler of spring water and Witch’s Salt centrally between the two. Everything else should be neatly arranged around the altar. Remember to leave room for the various ingredients that will later be required for specific spells or jobs. A nice addition to any altar layout is a vase of fresh flowers.

R I T UA LS A N D SPELLS

Routines, rituals and repetitive behaviors are rooted in our reptilian brain and a natural part of who we are. However, a lot of the habits and routines we have formed have been by accident—not design. So, with magic, we’re going to use this powerful inherent mechanism more deliberately and for a specific intention—casting a spell by sending our desire deep into our subconscious and out into the universe. And you can’t do that with all the internal chatter about the worries and stresses of the day running around in your mind. You have to create a magical space physically and mentally that is completely separate from any distractions.

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R I T UA L F R A M EWOR K ❂❂ Enter Trance

❂❂ Set Your Intention

❂❂ Open the Ritual

❂❂ Cast Your Spell

❂❂ Close the Ritual

Enter Trance

Before attempting any magic working first enter trance in order to quieten and still the mind. Depending on the state or frame of mind you are in before you begin you might need to break your state first before getting into trance or wait till the stresses and worries of the day have subsided. You probably already have some kind of activity you use to calm yourself down after a stressful or busy day that you can now use for the purpose of preparation.

Set Your Intention

Without a clear intention you’ll just be wasting your time. For the magic to work, you must know why you are doing what you’re doing. It’s the random thoughts that run through your mind all day long that are a major part of the problem because they drain your mental energy and break your focus. With trance you’ve learned how to quieten those random thoughts and create a clear space to think. Now you need to get clear about where you are going to focus your energy on within the ritual. There’s no point getting all dressed up and having no place to go. A well-defined intention involves being aware of the ambiguity in the language you use. For example, if you say to a young child playing under a table “don’t bang your head” their subconscious will mostly likely only hear “bang your head” and often they will do just that. Whereas if you say “mind your head” they are more likely to come out unscathed.

It’s the same with a magical intention. If you use an intention like “I don’t want to be poor” your subconscious is more likely to respond to “want to be poor.” The art is to keep your intention precise and avoid ambiguity of language which 29

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could also have a second-level negative meaning, however unintentional. So it would be better to set the intent of “I desire to be rich” or “My money needs will be met.” The main thing is to focus on positive intent and to consider any hidden ambiguities in the language you use. That way, your subconscious mind will be in no doubt about what it needs to work upon.

Open the R it ua l

In works of magic you need to mark them out as separate from everyday life and the way you do this is by performing an opening ritual. This cleanses the area you are working in and blocks out all unwanted forces, such as malevolent spirits or simply the worries of the day. It also puts you in a meditative frame of mind, conducive to performing sorcery. There are different ways to do this and you’ll find variations in the individual spells throughout the book but for now here’s simple method to begin with 1. First, take the bottle of holy water and sprinkle some over all four corners of the room and around your altar area. As you do so, say something along the lines of the following chant: 2. “With this holy water, I banish all forces, that are not in harmony with me.” 3. Then light your candles (white first, then black) and then your incense. Not only does this deepen your trance but it also signals to your subconscious mind that something different is happening. Now you are ready to cast your spell.

Cast Your Spell When you cast your spell you take all the energy that was being drained by those random thoughts and wayward impulses and align it towards a goal you’ve actually decided upon. 30

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You’ll find several methods for casting spells in the section that follows called Conjure Methods. Once you are clear on your intention then you can find an appropriate spell and method that suits you. Whatever method you choose the key is focused performance. If you are not doing a spell, you could meditate or pray at this point. In which case, burn Meditation Incense or Holy Incense. Whatever you are going to do it is essential it is marked out in some way as separate from everyday life and thoughts.

Close the R it ua l

In order for your subconscious mind to be able to work on your desire we need to let it do so without any conscious interference. So one of the essential elements of any ritual is that it needs to have a definite closure. We all have a natural tendency to want to dwell on things and the paradox of trying to forget requires that you focus on something in order to not think about it. Instead we can at least make it so it’s more of an effort to remember than to just get on with other things. Ideally we do something where the consequence is that the message naturally just gets forgotten/slips your mind – consciously. To do this you need to signal to your subconscious mind that the ritual is over so you perform a closing ritual. You need a way to break the state you entered while you were doing the magic, casting a spell, or meditating. You’ll discover various ways to do this throughout the spells in the book but for now we’ll continue in the same vein as how we opened the ritual. This simply entails pausing for a moment and giving thanks. You could hold out your hands over the altar, palms facing down, and say a chant like the one below: “I thank all the spirits and other forces which have helped me in this ritual. Let us go our separate ways in love and peace.” 31

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If you still feel like you haven’t made a clean break with the ritual, then you can physically shake yourself like you might do when you shudder at the thought of some unpleasant memory.

Hyssop Cleansing Bath (Please note: hyssop should NOT be used in pregnancy or if you suffer from epilepsy.) Before and after doing spell workings, many Hoodooists and Voodooists take a ritual cleansing bath. If you do decide to do this, then I suggest taking a herbal bath made with hyssop; it cleanses and removes negativity from the body.

1. Place 3-4 teaspoons of dried hyssop in a cup.

2. Pour boiling water over the herb, then cover and leave for 20 minutes.

3. When the mixture is ready, pour it into your bath, chanting:

“Holy Hyssop, cleanse me to the core, and drive all evil from my door.” You can also use fresh hyssop. It is frequently cultivated and can be found growing wild in warm countries. On a medicinal level, hyssop is a cleansing herb. It relieves catarrh and reduces secretion of mucus, as well as regulating blood pressure (high or low) and calming the nerves. A convenient alternative to the dried or fresh herb is the ready-prepared Dr. Pryor’s Hyssop Bath Oil.

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W H ER E TO DO R I T UA LS

As well as creating a sacred space within your own living space as you progress with your practice you’ll also want to make use of those places in the outside world that already have magical associations – especially when you are working big magic.

Graveya rd

One of the best places for working your magic outside is not surprisingly the graveyard. However, you do have to be aware of the creature that haunts this realm – the graveyard snake. You’ll read about my encounter with the graveyard snake in chapter four, part three: Demons and ancestors.

Crossroads

The other legendary place to create magic is at a crossroads. This is where several famous musicans, writers and artists are said to have made a pact with devil in exchange for their talent, fame and fortune. You’ll read about the crossroads in chapter four part one. For the big magic you’ll want to combine the place and time of your ritual to align with the supernatural forces already present and at work in the universe.

W H EN TO DO R I T UA LS

An integral part of conjure work is deciding on the most appropriate time to perform spells. You’ll want to align yourself with the existing natural and supernatural rhythms of the universe. 33

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Time Frames to consider a re ❂❂ The Time of the Year

❂❂ The Phases of the Moon

❂❂ The Hands of the Clock

Time of t he Yea r

For major workings, the time of the year can also be taken into account.

Spring is the waxing of the year and so would be the ideal time to begin a ritual intended to win you a lottery jackpot. The culmination of the ritual could be timed for midsummer’s day, just before the year begins to wane.

During autumn, the waning of the year, you could perform a spell to rid yourself of negative patterns of thinking, and have midwinter’s day, the very dead of winter, as the final banishing of these patterns. Then, somewhere around the first of February, you could ritually “plant” the seeds of positive thinking and by harvest time of that year, your life will be transformed.

T he Phases of t he Moon

The phases of the moon are an important factor to consider.

The waxing moon is best for works of increase and of a constructive nature, such as gaining money, love and good health.

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The waning moon is best for works of lessening or of destruction, such as decreasing poverty, getting rid of unwanted people or cursing.

The full moon is usually seen as a time of great power and, accordingly, many practitioners do major rituals at that time.

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The Reverend Gary Fox, a Voodoo worker living in Texas, insists that black magic is best done during the dark of the moon. “Some say you should do black work at full moon, but that’s a crock o’ pig shit,” he says. “Dark o’ the moon’s when you wanna do it. A year or so back, I had trouble with some neighbors of mine - they kept swarmin’ onto my land like pesky varmints. I tried everything to make ’em move out - even tried dynamtin’ ’em out. Nothin’ worked. So I did a little black work one midnight at the dark of the moon and they were out like mules with scud missiles up their asses.” T he Hands of t he Clock

As well as taking into account the phases of the moon, some Hoodooists, including myself, decide the timing for ritual work according to the position of the hands on the clock. 4. Works of constructive magic and increase are best done when both hands on the clock are rising. 5. Works of destruction and decrease are best performed when both hands on the clock are falling.

So, for example, if you want to gain wealth, then do your ritual when the moon is waxing at a time when both hands on your clock are rising - say, between 8.30 and 9.00 in the morning (this time of day has the added advantage that the day itself is also waxing). Alternatively, midnight - the “witching hour” - is a good time for all works of powerful magic, whether constructive or destructive. Once you have decided on the timing of a ritual, perform it, if possible, at the same time on each consecutive day until the ritual is complete. 35

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CON J U R E M E T HODS How to Make a Voodooo Doll

No voodoo book would be complete without instructions on how to make and use a Voodoo Doll. It’s the first thing that comes to mind for most people who have heard about voodoo. Sticking pins in a doll in order to curse someone else –that’s a Hollywood misconception. Hollywood and the media industry almost invariably portrays voodoo dolls as sinister. They certainly can be. But the majority of voodooists use voodoo dolls as a positive manikin, invested with magical and subconscious energy, to attract the good things in life that will benefit them. What’s more, voodoo dolls are not the sole preserve of African-derived magic and sorcery. In England, back in medieval times and before, practitioners of the sorcery arts would make what they called “poppet dolls” to serve as a focus for their spells and incantations. It could even be argued with some justification that the idea of the magical doll in England was taken over to the USA with the early settlers, and later influenced the hoodoo and voodoo practices that developed amongst African-Americans in the Southern States of America. Voodoo dolls can be bought, but are simple and fun to make yourself. Here’s what you need:

¸¸ Cloth – what size?

¸¸ Sewing needle and thread ¸¸ Scissors

¸¸ Stuffing – this can be

anything from cotton to straw, Spanish moss to herbs.

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¸¸ White linen cloth

¸¸ Some personal items of your

target

¸¸ Coloured wool appropriate

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Here’s what you do: 6. Cut a human outline from two pieces of cloth and sew them together, leaving a hole at the top of the head, so that the doll can be stuffed. The material used for stuffing the doll can be anything from cotton to straw. Spanish moss to herbs. 7. However, an essential ingredient that should be mixed in with the stuffing material is a personal item taken from the person it is meant to represent: hair, nail-clippings, a fragment of clothing, blood, sexual fluids or saliva, are all ideal. However, care should be taken that these items are acquired without the person’s knowledge. 8. Once the doll is sewn up, every effort must be made to ensure that it actually looks like the person it is meant to represent. For example, if the person has brown hair and dark eyes, then use brown wool for the doll’s hair and dark thread for the eyes. 9. When the doll is completed, it should be wrapped in a clean white linen cloth or in white tissue paper until it is needed. 10. There are various ways you can use to charge and empower your voodoo doll. These include entering a light trance and talking to the doll as if it is alive, and instructing it on what you want it to do to bring your magical intention into the realm of reality. Or you can create a talisman or sigil encapsulating your intention and sewing it inside the doll.

Candle Mag ic Many spells use candles, and it is important to ensure they are burnt safely, especially when they must be left to burn down after the ritual. The color of the candle used is dictated by the intent of your spell. There are no hard and fast rules, but the following correspond to the ideas of most practitioners: 37

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Red Orange

Love, sex, passion, affection, physical vitality. Changes of plans, opening the way, prophetic dreams.

Green

Money, gambling luck, business, regular work, good crops.

Yellow

Devotion, prayer, money (gold), cheerfulness, attraction.

White

Spiritual blessings, purity, healing, rest.

Light Blue Black Dark Blue Purple

Peace, harmony, joy, kind intentions. Repelling, dark thoughts, sorrow, freedom from evil. Moodiness, depression, unfortunate circumstances. Mastery, power, ambition, control, command

Red/Black (red inside, Return evil to the sender. black outside) When you have chosen a candle for your spell (as above), you need to anoint it with an appropriate oil (for example, Love Oil for a love spell or Damnation Oil for a curse). During the anointing process, visualize the intent of the job or spell in your mind’s eye.

1. In works of repelling or cursing rub the oil from the base to the wick, working away from yourself. 2. In works of attraction rub towards yourself, from the wick to the base.

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To add to the power of a candle after it has been anointed, sprinkle it with an appropriate powder (such as Love Powder for a love candle). It is also very important to use only one candle for one purpose and to burn it to the bottom.

Never Use the Same Candle for Different Jobs

SPELL TA PES

One of my favorite methods involves casting spell tapes, which I write and record myself using a small tape deck or digital recorder. You might like to try it too. This is how it works:

1. Set Your Intention First off, set your intention. What is it you want to happen?

2. Create Your Script Now write up a detailed script or story, describing getting your intention and the events leading up to it. Write it in the past tense as though it has already happened, as though you’ve already got your desire.This is important. Why? Because it sends out a very powerful message both to your subconscious mind (the powerhouse within) and to the universe itself.

3. Record Your Script Once you’ve got a workable script, with lots of description and atmosphere, read it into your recording machine, but be careful not to read it too fast. Remember you’ll be listening to it in a meditative trance so let the narrative unfold slowly. 39

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4. Listen to your Recording When you are happy with your recording, simply lie down, go into a light trance, and play the recording back.

5. Repeat for a few Nights For best results, choose a convenient time of day or night, and listen to your spell tape at that time every day for seven days. Seven is traditionally a magical number. But it is also a long enough time to cement the intention of your spell tape into your subconscious mind, which is the powerhouse within, and the part of you that gets things done on a level where conscious mind will-power is not enough.

Along with sigil magic this is one of my favourite methods of performing money sorcery. You’ll go through making a spell tape and creating a sigil in the Magic Money chapter and you can adapt these processes for other desires you may have.

Sig il Mag ic

One of the simplest, yet most powerful forms of sorcery, is sigil magic. Sigils are freeform glyphs or symbols, which can easily be drawn using a fountain pen, felt tip or even a biro. They can be used to cast spells or make changes in yourself and the world around you. Sigil magic isn’t convoluted like ceremonial magic. All you need is a pen and paper and the ability to enter trance through self-hypnosis or meditation. The concept of sigils was invented by the British artist Austin Osman Spare (18861956), who wanted a simple system of sorcery that brought results. Austin Osman Spare didn’t believe our conscious mind (the logical, skeptical self) was capable of doing magic. As far as he was concerned it actually got in the way of it. For Spare, the powerhouse of enchantment was the subconscious mind. Therefore a system of sorcery was needed to implant magical wishes or desires 40

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into the subconscious. That way, it could be allowed to manipulate the occult or etheric forces to bring a given desire into reality. Being an artist, it is no surprise that Spare came up with the concept of sigils to harness the power of the subconscious. “Sigils are monograms of thought,” Spare wrote in The Book of Pleasure (1913), “a mathematical means of symbolizing desire and giving it form.” In other words, Spare’s system was about turning a wish or desire into an artistic symbol, which was usually drawn in pen and ink. He would then meditate on the symbol until it was firmly established in his subconscious. Then he’d wait until it manifested in reality. The crafting of sigils goes back to prehistoric times, when shamans would paint their magical desires in symbolic form on cave walls. In modern times, as we’ve seen, the great exponent of sigil sorcery was Austin Osman Spare, who was not only a highly talented artist, albeit obscure, but his occult abilities rivaled those of Aleister Crowley, Madame Blavatski and Dion Fortune. Spare, whose unkempt hair and intense gaze made him fit perfectly with the London art circles of the time, described the subconscious mind as the “greatest magician” and used sigils as a direct means of communicating with this far more powerful aspect of ourselves. In his Book of Pleasure (1913), Spare said that: “All desire, whether for pleasure, knowledge or power, that cannot find “natural” expression, can by sigils find their formula and find fulfillment from the subconscious.” By all accounts, Spare’s sigils were extraordinarily effective. According to two terrified witnesses he once manifested an elemental spirit - with fiery eyes and surrounded by a green mist - using sigils. Also when he was seventeen, and staying with occult novelist the Rev. Robert Hugh Benson, the reverend asked Spare if his sigils could bring about 41

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a downpour—it had been fine all day. Spare duly drew one on the back of an envelope and ten minutes later the two of them were soaked to the skin. In the chapter on Money Magic you’ll learn step-by-step how to create a sigil for attracting money.

T H E SI NGI NG T U RT LE

Once you have taken up the path of Hoodoo, it is advisable to maintain a certain air of privacy. Try not to be blabbermouth. There is no harm in talking a lot, especially if you are naturally gregarious, but it is good to keep a check on your tongue when it comes to deeper things. Not everyone respects the ways of the Hoodoos, so the less they know about your beliefs and practices, the better. Earl Marlowe once told me a tale relevant to this point. He’d heard it many years ago in Louisiana, but the story’s roots, he assured me, lay in Africa. As we sat on a bench overlooking a section of the River Lea in East London, Earl toked heavily on a joint, and in his deep Caribbean-tinged drawl proceeded to tell me the tale of the singing turtle. “One day, while out fishin’, a boy saw a turtle crawlin’ on a log in the river. It had a banjo, and ‘fore long it sat up and began pickin’ a tune on the instrument and singin’ a soulful melody. The boy ran home and told his father, who gave him a thrashin’ for tellin’ a lie. Finally, the boy persuaded his father to go and see the turtle playin’ the banjo and singin’. When they got there, the turtle wasn’t to be seen, and the father was ready to thrash the boy again. But then, all of a sudden, they heard music and saw the turtle on the log, pickin’ out a riff on its banjo and singin’ these lyrics, ‘Live in peace. Don’t tell all you see.’”

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CH A P TER T WO

MONEY MAGIC “I’ve been using the (money) oil about ten years, and I’ve been winning.” Joseph Bush, successful pool shooter, quoted during the 1970s

M AGIC MON E Y As we sat in a tiny Italian café in the King’s Cross are of London, Earl turned to me and said, “If you wanna get seriously rich, what you need is magic money.” “Magic Money?!” I said, with a grin.

“Ain’t no joke,” said Earl, with a dismissive sweep of his hand. “Might be as elusive as a four-leafed clover, but magic money is out there in circulation. If you get some in your change, or find some in your pocket, you’ll be made for life.” “What does it look like?”

“Same as ordinary money. Feels different, though.” “In what way?”

“Feels hot. But you have to have the power to tell the difference. It’s spirit money y’see.” 43

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Although the very idea of all this seemed absurd, I wanted to know more. I lit a Cuban cigar, then asked, “When you say it’s spirit money, do you mean spirits give it to you?”

“I mean just that,” said Earl. “When you’re least expecting it, a spirit will pop up out of nowhere and give you magic money. It might take the guise of a store assistant and give you a spirit coin in your change. Believe me, that assistant wouldn’t be human; he or she would be a spirit. If you went back to the store the next day to find the spirit again, they wouldn’t be there. You could describe them to the other staff working there, but they’d say you must have been mistaken, because no one of that description works in the store. Most people don’t recognize a spirit when they see one because it will look human, like anyone in the street. But if you got the sight, you know it’s a spirit.” Earl pulled out a hip flask and poured some dark rum into his black coffee. He then went on to tell me that all big lottery or gambling winners have magic money somewhere on their person before winning. They wouldn’t be consciously aware that they had magic money in their possession, he explained, but some sixth sense would tell them not to spend it or pass it on. However, these are exceptional individuals; when the average person gets magic money; they simply spend it, which means someone else gets rich instead of them. “Is there any way you can force the issue. I mean, can you obtain magic money using sorcery?” I said, hoping to find a fast route to a lottery win myself.

He shook his head. “Very rarely. Some have done it. But usually it either happens or it doesn’t - and if it does happen, then it will only happen once in your life, and in very, very exceptional cases, twice.” “But can you use sorcery to get a bit of money generally?” I asked. “Yeah, you can use it to meet your needs,” he replied.

Earl had never had a big lottery win. But through conjure work; he maintained a good lifestyle on a low income. His needs were small and he seemed to draw money from the proverbial “ether” whenever he needed it. 44

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CH A R LES T H E GR I N DER

When I first met him in 1981, Earl claimed to be 127 years old. I just accepted this and enjoyed the many stories he told me about the people he knew around the turn of the century.

One particular story concerned a New Orleans Voodoo doctor called Charles the Grinder, who supposedly taught Earl, money magic way back in 1905.

At that time, Charles the Grinder was a well-known face around West Baton Rouge parish. He would travel around the plantations and villages in the area offering to sharpen scissors, knives, tools and plows - anything that needed sharpening. But he wasn’t the industrious man he might at first appear to be. Charles never worked for more than half a day at a time, his maxim being: “A man who works halftime, lives twice-time, and in relaxation there is a double expectation, scientifically speaking.” Loosely translated, this meant that the man who takes it easy in life, lives twice as long as the hardworking and ambitious man. Of course, with this kind of attitude it helps if you are adept at money conjure and Charles the Grinder undoubtedly was. His sharpening business, which was lucrative in itself, was in fact a cover for a thriving conjure business. Through this, he made at least ten times as much money as any laborer in those days could hope to.

Charles first got started in conjure when, as a seaman, he spent some years in Haiti, where he learned all about Voodoo magic.

“When I got back,” he told Earl, “I taught all the big Voodoos in New Orleans everything they know ’bout Voodoo. In the end, though, they ran me outta the city ’cause of my superior knowledge.”

Earl spent six months with Charles the Grinder living on his houseboat on the Mississippi River. Charles kept an enormous stock of conjure paraphernalia on board, including all sorts of shells, fish bones and the skulls of small animals. Some of these were gilded; others stained black or purple. All of these items were 45

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sold around the plantations and villages as good-luck charms, which are known as “gris-gris” around New Orleans. The most expensive gris-gris he stocked were made from the dried bladders of hogs, which he’d gather from the plantations at hog-killing times. These he sold for $2.50 each, and they were used almost exclusively for wreaking terrible curses on people. Charles also kept a pet on the boat - a rooster with golden feathers. “It was tame as a cat, but fat as a pig,” recalled Earl. “When it flapped its wings, it spread gold dust on the floor. Charles always said the dust was pure gold, and that the rooster was a golden legend. What he meant by that, no one ever knew.” One time, Earl was looking at the gold-dust producing rooster and got to thinking that he’d had enough of being poor, and that it was high time he had a share of the wealth in the world. Only problem was, Earl didn’t relish the prospect of hard work.

When Earl raised this point with Charles he was very sympathetic and, without hesitation, said he would personally help Earl work some serious money conjure. A couple of days later, Charles said that it was time to do the job: “Moon’s waxin’ and the spirits is willin’.”

With that, he went to one of his many cupboards and pulled out a large green candle, a small bottle of oil and a gnarled-looking root he called the “Jezebel Root”. He then instructed Earl to anoint the candle with oil.

“It’s Money Drawin’ Oil - made outa holy frankincense, myrrh and sandalwood, with a little bayberry herb thrown in,” he said. “You’d do well to remember that, man, cause ain’t many root doctors willin’ to share their secrets.” 46

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When Earl had anointed the candle (rubbing towards himself, from wick to base), Charles got him to place the candle in a plain white saucer and light it. Charles then produced a bottle of moonshine whiskey. “We gotta wait till it burns down,” he said, “so we may as well take a sip or two of sour mash to pass the time.” When at last the candle had burned down, Charles instructed Earl to push the Jezebel root into the middle of the soft candle wax and to roll up the wax into a ball. He then had to leave it in a cool place to harden. While they waited for this to occur, the two got back to drinking. Half-an-hour later, Charles leapt from his chair: “Wax’ll be hard now. Come on, we gotta head straight for the cemetery and drop it into a fresh-dug grave.”

When the now somewhat intoxicated pair arrived at the local cemetery, Earl, on Charles’ instructions, dropped the wax ball into a freshly dug grave and intoned the incantation below three times: “Jezebel, oh Jezebel,

Let someone give me money!

Jezebel, oh Jezebel

Bring lots of cash to me!”

Charles kicked a little soil over the wax ball to hide it, then glanced over to Earl.

“We gotta go,” he whispered, his eyes darting around the deserted cemetery as though he had seen something. “Best hurry too,” he added, grabbing Earl by the arm and pulling him along. “And whatever you do, don’t look back, otherwise dead spirits’ll catch your gaze and follow us home.” These words sent a cold shiver through Earl and he ran faster than he had ever run in his life.

“The upshot of that spell was incredible, and went far beyond mere money,” Earl recalled nearly ninety years later. “I met a holy man who gave me money 47

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and took me across the sea. We visited the pyramids, the Holy Land and the Red Sea. He showed me the mysteries and places of power so that I could help people when I got back. We collected incense, charms and other magical items. Then the holy man said, ‘You are now a Prince among Hoodoos - use your power well.’” According to Charles the Grinder, the Jezebel money charm was a favorite of Dr John, the famed and flamboyant Voodooist who operated in New Orleans during the 19th century. Dr John was a freeman of color, who claimed to be a Senegalese prince. The grotesque scars covering his fierce face, he insisted, were proof of his royal descent—they were ceremonial marks put there by his father, a great king, following the tradition of their royal family. When the Spaniards arrived in Senegal, however, Dr John was sold into slavery. Eventually, by guile and cunning, he won his freedom. He then took to the high seas, traveling the world, working on sailing vessels. During this time he discovered his “power”, and decided to settle in New Orleans, where he set up as a Voodoo doctor, specializing in healing, selling gris-gris and telling fortunes. By all accounts, Dr John was an expert in money conjure and amassed a large fortune as a result. In his day, however, conjure work was often a good deal more macabre than it generally is today. When Dr John performed the Jezebel spell, for example, instead of using plain white saucers as candle holders, he would have used human skulls, which had been stolen from graveyards throughout the city. One expert on Dr John is my Voodoo brother Professor Crow. The Prof studied the art of sorcery in the Swamp Voodoo tradition under a colleague of Earl 48

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Marlowe’s. And the Prof has much to say about the truth surrounding Dr John. Catch him half-way into a bottle of bourbon and he’ll relate something along the following lines to you: “So you want to know now about that ole devil Dr John Mantenee? Well firstly he wasn’t the Devil, as many said; he was the Devil’s master. Secondly he was a real African. Born and bred on Africa’s west coast. He was sold into slavery as a boy by his uncle who was a Senegal prince. Those tattoos, they say he had on in his face, were called ‘Country Marks’ and were the ritual scars given to kids back in Africa.

“His uncle was frightened that Dr John would become a powerful Ju Ju man and overthrow him. The reason he sold him and not killed him was because as he was a child and he would grow up far away and maybe not become a Ju Ju man. If he killed him his uncle would have an avenging spirit kickin’ his ass. Well his uncle was wrong and Dr John became a Voodoo man after all. You know I learnt my Ju Ju over in Africa and I can tell you that most of what Dr John did was the real deal.

“Some people say that he was famed New Orleans’ Voodoo queen Marie Laveau’s ‘priest’ or some kind of rival of hers. What he and Marie did was different as he was a Voodoo doctor. He read the cards along with his cowrie shells and performed some pretty powerful magic for those who paid.

“What Dr John did was important; he found plants and herbs in secret harvesting grounds around New Orleans that did the same things as those used in Africa. Sure he passed this knowledge on, but only to people who paid him. That’s why you ain’t going to find people giving away Dr John’s secrets for free. “The same goes for his card readings. Dr John’s deck of cards had a small round hole burnt in one of the corners. Now that is pure African and called ‘opening the eyes’. If you see a reader who doesn’t have a deck like that then you know that ain’t for real. Oh don’t worry I haven’t told you which corner the hole was in, an’ I ain’t going to! 49

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“People always talk about the two tied black cat bones that Dr John carried around in his vest pocket. Well that’s another sign of a genuine Voodoo Doctor. Why do you think I always wear a vest?”

MON E Y SPELLS High John the Conqueror Root

A central ingredient in many African-American money spells is High John the Conqueror root. John the Conqueror was reputedly a black slave who, by wit and humor, always got one over on his slave masters. In folklore terms, he was very much related to the trickster figure, Brer Rabbit, and to similar characters whose origins lay in African myth and legend. John the Conqueror root is named after him for it carries his luck. The plant from which the root comes is “Tormentil” (Potentilla Erecta). It is a downy perennial plant, with serrated leaves and four-petaled yellow flowers, which is used in medicine, tanning and dyeing. To obtain the maximum magical results from the root, it is customary to “fix” it, so it can be carried in the pocket as a money charm or put in a mojo hand (charm bag) with other ingredients. Here are two ways a root can be fixed: For Draw ing Money to You ❂❂ Anoint your root with John the Conqueror Oil, taking care to thoroughly rub the oil in. ❂❂ Then wrap your paper money around the root and keep it in your pocket. This type of charm is often referred to as a “pocket piece”. 50

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For Luck in Ga mbling

❂❂ Fill a mojo bag (red flannel for success or green flannel for money) with a Lucky Hand root, a pinch of Five Finger grass, a pair of (red or green) dice and a High John the Conqueror root.

❂❂ You can then add either a dried bat’s heart, a rabbit’s foot or an alligator’s tooth.

❂❂ Anoint the mojo bag with red Fast Luck Oil, John the Conqueror Oil or your Lover’s urine. ❂❂ Always carry it on your person when you go out gambling.

Cash Collector

Earl had a favorite money spell, which he called the “Cash Collector”. It can be used to good effect in all circumstances where money is required. You will need the following ingredients: ¸¸ 1 teaspoon of frankincense

¸¸ 1/2 teaspoon of cinnamon

¸¸ 2/3 teaspoon of bayberry root chips

¸¸ A pinch of saltpeter

¸¸ 2/3 teaspoon of clove powder

¸¸ 2/3 teaspoon of archangel herb

(angelica)

powder

¸¸ A pinch of Money Powder

1. Once you have obtained your ingredients, set up your altar.

2. Burn some Money Drawing Incense and light a green candle.

3. Blend all the ingredients thoroughly and place them in a green flannel mojo bag. (A mojo bag is traditionally a small charm bag, with a white drawstring, that can either be made at home or obtained from a spiritual supply store.) 51

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4. Sew the top tightly shut and then sprinkle the bag with 9 drops of Money Oil (a green, perfumed oil). Attach a string or cord to the charm and wear it around your neck, or carry it in a purse or pocket at all times.

To further aid you in finding money, blend the same amount of the above mixture and place it on a plain white saucer. Burn half of it each morning on rising, and the other half each night before going to bed. This creates favorable money vibrations throughout your place of residence.

Bayberry root chips can also be sprinkled on the money in your wallet to attract more money and good fortune to you.

Buckeye Cha r m

Even if conjure work fails to bring you a kind of affluence conjurers like Doctor John enjoyed, it can get you out of financial scrapes. During the mid-1990s I was down on my luck and couldn’t afford to pay my telephone bill. I’d received warnings from the telephone company and fully expected to have the line cut off. In a final, desperate bid to make some cash, I decided to perform some gambling conjure in the hope of getting a win on the national lottery.

A popular gambling charm amongst Hoodooists involves drilling a hole in a buckeye nut and filling it with quicksilver. This seemed the ideal charm to use. The way I figured it, buckeye nuts are very much the size and shape of male testicles. Therefore, from a homeopathic-magic point of view, the buckeye nut symbolizes the seed of life and growth—which fitted very nicely with my intention to sow the seeds of wealth and abundance in my life.

From a botanical perspective, the buckeye nut, which is reddish-brown in color, is very similar to the horse chestnut, or “conker”, but is smaller and more spherical in shape. The buckeye tree, on which the nut grows, is native to North America and is in fact a close relative of the horse-chestnut tree of Europe - so a conker would be a good replacement. 52

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Although buckeyes are not readily available in the UK, where I was living at that time, I’d got some in my conjure bag, having picked them up from a botanica in L.A., during one of my regular business trips to the States. So I was all set to make up the charm.

Once I’d prepared my altar, I lit two green candles, and burnt some Gambler’s Incense. Then I passed a buckeye nut through the incense smoke to consecrate it. I drilled a hole in the buckeye and poured some quicksilver into it. Taking some wax from one of the green candles, I proceeded to seal the hole. I then anointed the nut with Fast Luck Oil and the, using Dragon’s Blood Ink, I wrote the verse below on some parchment paper. “Buckeye nut, Seed of wealth. Bring gambling luck to mine own good self.” I put the parchment paper and buckeye nut in a green mojo bag, along with three silver coins. Once the spell was cast, I kept the buckeye charm bag in my pocket at all times. Much of the magical reasoning behind this charm involves courting the influence of the Roman god Mercury, who rules over games of chance and sleight of hand. Quicksilver, being liquid mercury, is the central ingredient used for this purpose.

In America, conjure workers also add a silver “mercury” dime to the mojo bag to further increase the mercurial influence of the charm. Being resident in the UK, I simply substituted three silver coins for the dime. The general efficacy of the charm is increased by anointing the buckeye with Fast Luck Oil. If a buckeye cannot be obtained, then the charm is equally effective if you use a nutmeg or a whole John the Conqueror root. One afternoon, a couple of days after making my buckeye charm, I fell asleep in an armchair and dreamt that I was filling out my lottery numbers. On coming 53

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round from the doze, the dream reminded me that I must get the form filled in ready for that evening. So I reached over to get it from the table next to me.

To my astonishment, it had already been filled in - and I was 100 per cent certain that I hadn’t done it previously. Could I have reached over and filled it in while I was asleep? Is such a thing possible?

All I know for sure is the following Sunday, when I checked the newspaper, I found I had a modest win £200, which was easily enough to cover my telephone bill. From then on my financial situation in general picked up and I had no further problems meeting bills.

Creating a Money Spell Tape

One of my favorite methods of performing money sorcery in a light trance involves casting spell tapes, which I write and record myself using a small tape deck or digital recorder. This method can bring amazing results. You might like to try it too. This is how it works:

1. Set Your Intention First off, set your intention. You’ll need to decide whether money would come in the form of a pay rise, successful business venture, or a lottery win.

2. Create Your Script Now write up a detailed script or story describing getting the money and the events leading up to it. Write it in the past tense as though it has already happened, as though you’ve already got the money. This is important. Why? Because it sends out a very powerful message both to your subconscious mind (the powerhouse within) and to the universe itself. 3. Record Your Script Once you’ve got a workable script, with lots of description and atmosphere, read it into your recording machine, but be careful not to read it too fast. 54

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Remember you’ll be listening to it in a meditative trance so let the narrative unfold slowly. 4. Listen to your Recording When you are happy with your recording, simply lie down, go into a light trance, and play the recording back. 5. Repeat for a few Nights For best results, choose a convenient time of day or night, and listen to your spell tape at that time every day for seven days. Seven is traditionally a magical number. But it is also a long enough time to cement the intention of your spell tape into your subconscious mind, which is the powerhouse within, and the part of you that gets things done on a level where conscious mind will-power is not enough. Although the focus of this has been on creating money it can be adapted for anything you want to bring into your life. Take some time out to imgaine the kind of things that you’ll like to have in your life that money can’t buy.

Luck y Money Doll

You can also use a Voodoo doll to cast a money-drawing spell. Once you have made your doll, here’s what to do next. ❂❂ First, you set up your altar.

❂❂ Then burn some Money Drawing Incense and pass your Voodoo doll through the smoke to consecrate it.

❂❂ Anoint a green candle with Money Oil, place it on a white saucer and light it.

❂❂ Using Dragon’s Blood or Dove’s Blood Ink, write out your request for money on a piece of parchment paper. (Your request could read along the lines of: “Spirits, bring me money to meet my needs”.) 55

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❂❂ Now put some coins inside the doll, along with a whole John the Conqueror root. Then sprinkle the doll with Money Drawing Powder and anoint it with bayberry oil. As you do this, recite the prayer below. “Money doll, money doll, Bring me riches, bring me gold, Money doll, money doll, Fill my bank full of cash.” Once the spell is cast, put the doll where you can always see it, and don’t let anyone touch it. Every seven days, place one or two coins in front of the doll to feed it and rekindle its taste for money.

Craf ting your Money Sig il

In chapter one you learned that Sigil magic was devised by Austin Osman Spare and is one of the simplest yet most powereful forms of magic. Now you’re going to create your own sigil for attracting money into your life. In order to create a sigil all you’ll need is a pen and piece of paper and the ability to enter trance. Step 1: Set Your Intention The first thing you need to do is decide what it is you want to change about yourself or the world around you. You need to sum up your magical desire in a few words. As we’re focusing on money magic, I’m going to use “gaining extra money” as an example of a magical desire (but you can use sigil magic for anything - from healing to love). 56

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So let’s make our sample intention read: “It is my will to gain extra money.” You now need to remove all duplicated letters, like so: “It Xs my wXlX Xo gaXX exXrX XXXXX.” This results in the following: “It s my wl o ga exr.” Step 2: Draw ing Your Sig il It’s now time to draw your sigil. You simply arrange the remaining letters into an attractive pattern. There are no rules to this. You just let your artistic side come out. The patterns you make might be square or rounded (see examples below). It doesn’t matter. As to paper, it’s best to get an A5 pad from an art shop - the ideal weight being 135gsm. But literally anything will do at a pinch, even the back of an envelope! It’s also wise to map out your sigil with a pencil first. When you’re happy with the result, ink it in with a fountain pen, felt tip or biro. The color of the ink doesn’t matter. I normally use black. But if you are drawn to another color, feel free to use it. If you wish, you can surround your finished sigil with a square or round border. You then cut it out and put it somewhere safe (away from prying eyes) until you’re ready to perform your ritual.

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Step 3: Enter Trance As stated earlier, for your ritual to work, you need to enter a trance. This puts you in touch with your subconscious mind which, unlike the conscious mind, accepts the validity of magic and the supernatural. Here’s how to put yourself into a safe hypnotic trance (a state almost identical to that of meditation). ❂❂ Sit comfortably and gaze at a candle flame or crystal.

❂❂ Notice how the candle flame dances or how the light reflects in the crystal.

❂❂ Now become aware of the sounds around you, perhaps you can hear the birds singing outside or the wind in the trees. ❂❂ Move your attention to your body and focus on what you can feel. Perhaps you can feel the warmth of your hands resting on your thighs or the gentle caress of a slight breeze through an open window.

❂❂ Cycle through these visual, auditory and kinesthetic sensations a few times and soon you’ll be in a dreamy trance state (if you fall asleep, don’t worry, you can always try it another day). Now you’re ready to hand the sigil over to your subconscious mind. Step 4: Subconscious Deliver y

❂❂ Put your sigil on a table in front of you, perhaps prop it up in front of a couple of books. Now simply stare at it. Focus your whole attention on it. Let your eyes roam along each line and angle. Drink it in. But don’t strain. Make it a gentle act of caressing with your eyes.

❂❂ The challenge here is not to think about your intention. By focussing on each aspect of the sigil itself this will help you keep your mind free from other thoughts and allow you to hand over the intention to your subconscious. 58

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❂❂ If you do find yourself thinking of your intention, don’t worry. The answer is to create a number of sigils for different intentions. Then put them away for a few days. When you come back to them you won’t be able to remember which one is which! This is exactly what you want. You then do separate rituals for each sigil, knowing that you can’t think about the intention if you don’t know what the sigil you’re focusing on is for. When your rituals are done, just get on with everyday things and let your subconscious mind do the work. After all, it’s your subconscious, not your conscious mind, that’s the magician. Step 5: Coming Out of Trance

When you’ve finished your ritual, you’ll need to come out of your trance. Simply count down “5, 4, 3, 2, 1,” and say “Awake!” You can count outloud or internally. The count simply tells your subconscious mind that it is time to spring back into everyday reality and get on with the events of the day. Step 6: Resu lts

It’s now just a question of being patient and waiting for your desires to manifest - in this case extra money. It might be that you get a little windfall or possibly get offered a part-time job, which looks like fun. The key is to look out for the unexpected and be prepared to follow it - after all, it could well have been brought to you by your subconscious!

LUCK Y S A N T EROS

In Cuba and in the United States many people wonder how those involved in the religion of Santeria, often very poor people, always seem to be able to afford the relatively high cost of initiations. The Kariocha initiation, for example which makes a person a fully-fledged Santero (priest), can cost the equivalent of two years’ wages for a low-income worker. 59

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Stories of people depriving themselves of all luxuries for years in order to pay for their initiations are common, but more perplexing are stories, also common, of people who pay for their initiations with money won in the lottery or other games of chance, supposedly after an Orisha (god or goddess) or a guardian spirit revealed to them which numbers to play. Santeros believe Orishas and guardian spirits have the ability to predict what number will come out in the lottery or what horse will win a race. However, spirits rarely give numbers in a direct manner; instead, they give coded clues that require special knowledge to interpret them.

T H E LUCK Y COI N

Money magic is undoubtedly a curious art. No matter what people say, it isn’t cut and dried. Which is why, to close this chapter on money magic, I will now relate the story of how a strange and mysterious British penny brought remarkable good fortune and financial independence to all those it was handed to.

The story concerns a young woman called Maddie. And it began this way... Maddie was sitting in a bus depot in Chicago. She was poor and down on her luck. It seemed like it had been this way ever since she’d gotten out of school at 18. She was now 35 and things still weren’t looking up. She was in Chicago in the hope of getting a better job, something that beat waiting tables over in Madison. Worse still, Maddie was pretty sure she hadn’t gotten the job in publishing she’d just interviewed for. She loved books and was qualified for the job having majored in English, and having written on and off for some small-time literary magazines. But it looked like the job wasn’t to be. To cap it all, the weather was lousy. It was a drizzly, dismal day. She brushed back her long blond wavy hair 60

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and looked around the grim concrete of the bus depot, wondering grimly why nothing ever seemed to work out for her. It was then she noticed the old guy sitting a few feet away from her waiting for a bus too. He looked quite cool in a retro sort of way, wearing a smart leather jacket and stylish black beret. Kind of artistic. The next moment he was staring right at Maddie. His eyes were piercing, but kindly looking. Maddie quickly looked away. But he kept on staring at her, then spoke directly to her: “Do you have faith?” he asked. I might have guessed it, thought Maddie, a Jesus freak. The old guy, however, was ahead of the game: “I know what you’re thinking,” he said in a slow, resonating drawl that had just a hint of the South to it. “You’re thinking I’m an evangelist.” Maddie nodded and smiled despite herself. “Well, I can assure you that I’m not,” he said, much to Maddie’s relief. That was the last thing she needed right now. The old guy continued: “What I should have asked was do you have faith in yourself? Or perhaps asked whether you are even acquainted with yourself?” “Well, I know who I am, if that’s what you mean,” said Maddie. “I know I’ve never had even one ounce of good luck since I was eighteen.” The old guy laughed at this, much to Maddie’s annoyance. Then he said: “Well, that means you must have had eighteen years of good luck! Which isn’t bad going.” This quip didn’t go down well with Maddie. But the old guy continued, seemingly oblivious. 61

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“I’ll let you into a little secret,” he said. “I was the same as you at your age. Nothing I did ever seemed to work out. I tried one line of business after another. All failed. Oh, they might have started well, but they crash and burned, all the same. Then, just as I was about to give up, and very likely drink myself into an early grave, I stumbled upon my lucky coin.” “Lucky coin?” said Maggie. “Really?” “That’s right,” he said, staring into space for a second or two, clearly recalling some past event. Snapping out of his reverie, he went on: “It happened this way. I’d been drinking all day and was in a downtown bar, despairing at my luck and the fact that nothing ever seemed to come to anything in my life - and how even the relationships I had seemed to fail on me. So I bought another drink - a double Jack Daniels - to drown my sorrows some more. The bartender handed me my change. As I was putting it in my pocket, something strange happened. One of the coins was hot to the touch.” The old guy said he nearly dropped it and would have called the bartender over to explain himself, ask him what the practical joke was about. But then the old guy’s curiosity got the better of him. He took a closer look at the coin and to his surprise it wasn’t an American coin at all. The other coins he’d been given in his change were U.S. currency. But not this one. “It was a British penny, circa 1931,” said the old guy. “Wow,” said Maddie. “Maybe the bartender had been on holiday over in England?” “Well, he might have,” said the old guy. “But these pennies went out of circulation in Britain when the country went decimal in the late 1960s. So unless he bought the coin in a collector’s shop, he’d have been unlikely to have come home with an old British penny.” The old guy cleared his throat, then continued his narrative. 62

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“Rather than yell at the bartender about giving me foreign currency in my change, I decided to keep the coin. And you know what? The very next day my luck began to change. It was little things at first. I’d win a few dollars on the lottery. Then I’d get a temporary job offer, a real good payer. Next thing, I saw an opportunity to supply women’s wigs to stores around the country. I set up warehouses and distribution, and within three years I found myself wealthy. This was the mid-1970s.” Romance also came his way. “Just as my business interests began to take off, I met the woman of my dreams - quite literally. We fell for each other, got married and had kids. There was no doubt about it. My life had turned on its head within a short few years - ever since finding my lucky penny.” “Amazing,” said Maddie. “But how can you be sure it was the coin? Maybe it was just coincidence?” “Perhaps,” said the old guy. “But that coin kept getting hot every so often. And every time it did, my luck got even better. Take it from me, there was something about that coin - something uncanny.” The old guy foraged in his jacket pocket for a moment, then pulled out a coin. “This is my lucky penny,” he said. “Oh my god,” said Maddie. “It just looks ordinary, well sort of old, but you know, I almost expected it to be made of solid gold!” “It might look old and worn,” said the old guy, “but for me it has been as good as solid gold...it brought me wealth and success and a beautiful wife and children. What more could I have asked for in life? No, for me, this coin is worth all the gold in Fort Knox.” He then looked at Maddie. “And now I want to pass it on to you.” Maddie looked on in astonishment. “Give it to me!? I couldn’t,” she said. “It’s your lucky coin.” 63

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The old guy shook his head. “No, no, it has to be passed on when it’s done its work. And besides, you can pass it on too when the time comes.” So Maddie graciously accepted the gift. Then the conversation turned to more mundane things: how the weather didn’t look like it was going to improve anytime soon. About twenty minutes later Maddie’s bus arrived. She thanked the old guy again and climbed aboard the bus. When she looked back to wave goodbye to the old guy, he was nowhere to be seen. Must’ve gone to catch his own bus, thought Maddie, but how could he have moved so quickly? Even someone in their thirties or younger couldn’t disappear out of sight that fast. In the end, she filed it away in her mind as “odd” and took her seat on the bus. A little later she remembered the coin and took it out of her pocket to have a look at it. It was hot...

t I got to know Maddie in 1997 through a good friend of mine who lives in Illinois. During one discussion, she told me that her luck had changed in an instant after meeting the old guy and being given the coin. “What was so unbelievable about it was things started to change within minutes of me receiving the coin,” Maddie told me, “literally while I was still on the bus home to Madison. I got talking to a cute looking guy, about my age, who said he always took the bus to save money as he was starting up a mail order firm selling self-help books. I said, ‘Wow, I just interviewed for a job in publishing.’ He said, ‘You did? How’d you like to help me out? I’ve been looking for someone to assist with the admin side and packaging.’” 64

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Maddie jumped at the chance. Books where her field of expertise and her passion and joy. It was ideal. For once in her life, it seemed she’d fallen on her feet. “It turned out great. The business took off and I ended up being a partner in the firm,” Maddie said. “But the guy and me really hit it off on a personal level too...the long and the short of it being we fell in love. Eventually, we got married and had a couple of kids. And unlike a lot of people these days, we’re still together and are very happy.” I remember saying to Maddie: “You really think all that was down to the lucky penny?” “I know it was,” she said. “But how can a coin, even an old one, do all that?” I said. Maddie learned back in the wooden chair she was sitting on, and put her feet up on a freshly sawn log close by. “I’ll explain,” she said. “The coin is a kind of mascot, a genuine lucky charm, that connects you to your inner-most self, to your genius inside, which you were born with.” “Do you mean your subconscious mind?” “Sort of,” she said. “But it’s more than that. It’s your true-self. You come into the world in direct contact with it. You are it, and it is you. But as you grow into childhood and become a teenager, you begin to lose touch with that side of yourself. This is more true than ever nowadays, what with the cult of celebrity, and TVs, computers and iPhones everywhere. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with those things in themselves... it’s just that we allow them to take us away from ourselves. They’re monumental distractions that remove us from our true selves. This is almost always to our detriment, one way and another. But get back in touch with your true self and everything changes. I’m not saying it will make everyone wealthy or bring them the partner of their dreams. What it does do is put you on the right path in life - your path. That way, you flow with the 65

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river instead of against it. You ride with your fate instead of fight it. When you are able to do that, you are truly fulfilled in life, and things always fall into place.”

Maddie and I had this conversation in 1997, before I’d had any book deals and when things weren’t exactly looking up for me. In short, I was gunning down a long highway to nowhere. Although I hadn’t said any of this in so many words, Maddie must have sensed my situation. She looked straight at me and smiled. “You should have the coin,” she said.

She then reached into her pocked and pulled out an old and worn copper penny, and handed it to me. “I can’t take this...” I said, handing it back to her.

She held up her hand. “No, it is yours now. The coin has to be handed on when it has done its work. That’s what the old guy said. And that’s what I’m doing.” Overwhelmed, I stumbled out an inadequate “Thank you.” Then held the coin in my hand. It felt hot to the touch...

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C h a p t e r 3 - Wi n n i ng L ov e

CH A P TER THR EE

WINNING LOVE “Bring me a teaspoonful o’ sugar, a small jar o’ honey and a leaf from a fig tree - and I will give ya the woman, if that’s what ya want.” Saheed, a Southern States Conjure Man, 1970

F ROM SE X TO SOU L M AT ES

Finding a partner, soulmate or simply a one-night stand using Voodoo has always been popular. Indeed, stories abound about how the love-lorn have won the love of the man or woman of their dreams using plants, potions and whispered enchantments under a Hoodoo moon. For example, William Seabrook, a writer who lived in Haiti during the 1920s, described how an old Voodoo priestess named Maman Celie made a love charm to ensure that her grandson, Paul, would be successful in winning the love of one Ti-Marie, a girl who, until then, had shunned him. Maman Celie first ground up the dried body of a hummingbird in a mortar, then added some jungle-flower pollen and some drops of her grandson’s blood and semen, while uttering the following chant: “Wood of woods, woman you were created by God. Bird of the woods, fly into her heart. I command you in the name of the three Marys and in Ayida’s [a Voodoo deity] name. Dolor, Dolori, pass.” She also crooned incomprehensible incantations. 67

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When all the ingredients were as fine as dust, Maman Celie transferred them to a leather pouch, made from the scrotum of a he-goat, and gave it to Paul. Seabrook was later told that the grandson threw Maman Celie’s concoction full into Ti-Marie’s face as she passed him. Apparently, she spat like a wildcat and cried that she would kill Paul - but within a few hours she had yielded to his advances. “Doubtless a deeper magic than Maman Celie’s was also at work,” comments Seabrook in his book The Magic Island (1929) “But I think it would be a mistake to assume a priori that without Maman Celie’s incantations and the hummingbird, Ti-Marie would have yielded.”

Ma r ie Laveau – Voodoo Queen In New Orleans, the most famous of all the Voodoo queens was a woman named Marie Laveau, who plied her occult trade during the nineteenth century. Many of Laveau’s clients sought help in affairs of the heart, and the “Laveau ladies”, as they were called, were never short of prescriptions. A favorite wile for a woman in love was to steal a glove from the man she was after, then fill it with sugar, honey and steel dust. To make the enchantment work, the lady had only to sleep with the glove under her mattress. A woman worried about a straying husband might mix a few drops of her menstrual blood in his dinner. (Women who applied this curative to their men often referred to it as “the Marie Laveau trick”.) If a woman passionately desired a married man, Marie would write the names of the man and his wife on a piece of paper and place it in an animal’s bladder, then leave the bladder out in the sun to dry. The man, it was said, would soon leave his wife, and all his new flame had to do to keep him was regularly anoint herself with the various love powders and oils provided by Marie. 68

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Conversely, for parents who disapproved of the man courting their daughter, Marie would mix a favorite gris-gris (charm), the ingredients of which included gunpowder, dried mud from a wasp’s nest, flaxseed, cayenne pepper, shotgun pellets, powdered sassafras, bluestone and Dragon’s Blood. The parents were then instructed to toss the mixture on the steps of the undesirable suitor’s house. This, asserted Marie, would ensure the suitor lost his ardor.

Mention Marie Laveau to my Voodoo brother Professor Crow and he is quick to set the record straight about the truth behind the famed Voodoo queen. One time we were doing a talk in the upstairs room of a London pub and the Prof sat back in his rocking chair, closed his eyes, and absentmindedly fondled the gold mounted snakes tooth that hung from his pocket watch chain. Then said:

“Well I guess you all heard of Marie Laveau? Well she was the first, last and only Voodoo Queen of New Orleans. Don’t listen to what people tell you. There was and is only one Queen and that is and was Marie.

“Now Marie was born way back at the start of the 19th Century. New Orleans was a hot, humid, unhealthy place built right in the middle of a swamp. Liable to flooding and the pot shots from the Indians and runaway slaves in the swamp you usually either died from the fevers or went mad. Sometimes both. What it had going for it was an easy cosmopolitan culture that was a legacy of it’s Spanish and French owners. Before slavery was abolished they had freedom for ‘People of Color’. Now that’s folk who have both white and black blood in them. Just like most folk today.

“Marie used to have huge big rituals that ended up in an even bigger party over in Bayou St John. Papers were full of scandals. Didn’t matter if you were rich or poor, black or white, they came down to the swamp to party and see that big old snake of Marie’s that people said she worshipped. “This snake was called Damballah and people said that it came from Africa and that Marie was some kind of African Priestess. Well the secret about that snake is that it came from the swamps. It was actually the Graveyard Snake that the Swamp Voodoo Men called on. It may have all come from Africa but Marie’s Voodoo sure didn’t.

“That’s the secret of New Orleans Voodoo, it was all about Marie Laveau. She took ideas from the Swamp Voodoo men and bought them into town with her dances in Congo Square. That’s about the sum of it. 69

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“Well as you all know New Orleans became part of the USA in 1803 and things weren’t good for the partying people of New Orleans and their new rulers just didn’t like the idea of free people who weren’t 100% white. Times were tough and Marie did her best with her rituals and dances and Swamp Voodoo to keep people going. She did and still does.

“Now here’s the last thing I’m going to say about Marie Laveau. People talk about Marie Laveau I, II and even III. People talk about her ‘High Priestessness’ being passed on to one, or all, of her daughters. The thing is Marie Laveau never actually died. Because she learnt her stuff from the Swamp Voodoo Men and she also eventually learnt their ‘Redde Rite’. This is where the soul is transferred into another body so you can carry on living. “That’s the answer the big secret about how come there are so many reports of Marie being so religious in latter life. They say that she renounced Voodoo and became a good Catholic or even that being a Voodoo and a good Catholic are the same thing.

“Yes Marie Laveau’s body did act like a good Catholic, coz Marie Laveau weren’t in it. She had already transferred her soul to someone else and put their soul in her body. And she’s been doing this time and time again. So just be careful next time you bump into someone on St Anne’s street who gives you that funny, intense look of Marie’s. It could be the next body she’s borrowed.”

Sex Conjure

As we’ve seen, a big part of Marie Laveau’s practice and trade was in love spells. The idea that you can bring love into your life by using spells, herbs and potions may seem far-fetched to some but Earl Marlowe, however, made no bones about it. “Hoodoo love potions work,” he insisted, and recounted an instance of how as a young man he had used Hoodoo to bring love into his life. At that time, Earl was living in Louisiana and had picked up a little Voodoo lore from the locals, which he blended with his own tradition of Trinidadian folk magic. This meant that his love spell was highly eclectic and individual. He engraved a silver talisman with a heart that had an erect penis stabbing through the middle of it. Earl explained that the heart denoted Erzulie, Voodoo goddess of love, while the penis denoted Legba, phallic god of fertility in Voodoo. “When you bring these two powerful spirits together in a conjure working,” he said, “it increases your animal magnetism a hundred fold and then it’s only a matter of time before your every sexual fantasy is fulfilled.”

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“So the spell was successful?” “You could say that,” he grinned. “Shortly after leaving the apartment where I worked the conjure, a girl, a complete stranger, just couldn’t take her eyes off me, and this happened two or three times on the short walk to the nearby liquor store. But what was truly startling was that by that evening I had the option of sleeping with no less than nine different women…” Earl went on to describe a suitable love magic formula which he felt could be used to excellent effect by the average man or woman in the street. “To prepare for what I call the Oshun spell,” he said, “you would first need to cut photos from magazines of people who are generally considered to be attractive. If you’re a man, people like Robert Redford or Tom Cruise; if you’re a woman, Sharon Stone or Pamela Anderson (celebrities popular at the time). Study these photos—get behind the person’s gaze and feel how it feels to be considered extremely attractive.” Earl believed that by doing this you “absorb” the power of your chosen celebrity, to the point that you almost become that person, and believe that you have as much sex appeal and charisma as the person you are focusing on. “You do this for seven days,” he said, “and then perform the spell itself. “This is best done when both hands on the clock are rising and the moon is waxing. First, set up your altar, do a cleansing ritual and burn suitable incense. Use Love and Attraction Oils - on your body or to anoint your candles, whatever feels right - and practice some candle magic. Finally, you invite Oshun, Santeria goddess of love, to overshadow you.” Although Earl recommended this spell for the layman, he did give a word of warning.

“One thing you must remember is that with conjure you draw the good and the bad. It exposes the darkest depths of your psyche, and so if you do a sexually motivated love spell you’ll certainly get sex, but you have to be prepared to meet and possibly end up having a pretty ugly scene with some screwballs.”

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Seduction Oil

Here is the recipe for Seduction Oil. To add to the power of any love spell, wear this as a perfume on a daily basis. You will need the following ingredients:

¸¸ 2 tablespoons of cloves

¸¸ 50 ml (2 fl oz) of oil (virgin olive oil or good-quality vegetable oil) ¸¸ Verbena (said to make the passions rise)

❂❂ Crush the cloves into the oil using a pestle and mortar.

❂❂ Then bottle the mixture, adding a small piece of verbena root to each bottle you make. ❂❂ Store in a dark, previously consecrated place for seven days before using.

❂❂ Anoint yourself daily, behind the ears, under the left armpit, on the back of the neck and between the thighs. As you do this, recite the following chant: “Oil of love, flow through me, Seduction is my speciality.”

AT T R AC T I NG LOV E St Va lentine’s Day Spellwork ing

Perhaps the most powerful time of the year for love workings is St Valentine’s Day. You can latch on to the powerful thoughtform (numinous energy) that manifests around this day due to the millions of people around the world celebrating February 14th as the “day of love.”

It’s even more powerful if you call upon the spirit of Jack Valentine, part of the folklore tradition local to me in East Anglia, England, who rules over love, passion and sensuality. Jack can grant your deepest romantic wishes. And he has the look of an old English countryman with a hint of the gypsy about him.

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This is what you do: ❂❂ As the sun reaches its zenith of St Valentine’s Day, go to a place of power such as a country crossroads, stone circle, or area that is known to have been a ritual site in ancient times, or just somewhere that feels right. Take with you some parchment paper and an ink pen - or any thick white paper and a biro will do just as well. ❂❂ Call upon Jack Valentine - visualize him as old-time countryman with a hint of the gypsy in him. Offer you petition (your wish), written in Dove’s Blood ink (non-animal) for him to bless. ❂❂ Once complete put in matchbox. Add three drops of Love Me oil. Leave for three days and feed with one drop of Love Me oil every night for seven nights after sun has set. As you do this hold your intention - your wish - in your mind’s eye. Just picture your romantic dream. This makes the act of feeding sacred rather than everyday.

❂❂ On seventh day, last day of the feeding, thank Jack Valentine for his assistance by dropping a coin (any denomination) into the matchbox. ❂❂ Say something like: “I thank you Jack Valentine and the love spirits for helping me gain my heart’s desire, which I know will come true. My coin is an offering of gratitude.”

Now everything is in place for the “invisibles” to bring your desires into material manifestation.

Love Doll R it ua l

An effective love ritual using Voodoo dolls, be they homemade or bought, can be performed as follows. (I will describe this from my own, masculine point-of-view, but it can easily be adapted for a woman to attract a man, or by either sex to attract the same sex.) Firstly, you will need two Voodoo dolls: one to represent you, the other to represent the person you wish to enchant. Step 1: Set Up your A lta r

Then set up your altar in the usual way. Appropriate incenses to burn would be Lovers Incense or Love Me Incense (patchouli). 73

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Step 2: Pur if ication R it ua l

Now perform a purification ritual and anoint two red candles with Love Oil and Attraction Oil. (Remember that in works of attraction, you rub the oil from the wick to the base of the candles.)

Step 3: Name the Candles

❂❂ Using a new nail, write your name on one candle and the name of your intended lover on the other.

❂❂ Put them in brass candle holders side by side on the altar. ❂❂ Then put the doll that represents you in front of the candle with your name on, and the doll that represents your lover-to-be in front of the candle with her name on it. ❂❂ Now light the candles and say, “May the light of love shine down on this man and this woman.” Step 4: Trance Now get yourself into a deep trance. Stare at a candle... or at the swirling smoke of the incense... Be aware of your peripheral vision... the walls... the window...and listen to sounds... cars outside... birds singing... and feel the different sensations in your body... They are there all the time... but you don’t normally notice them... This is a good opportunity to be aware of your feet... your arms... your fingers... As you do this you will feel more... and more... relaxed... Step 5: Create a Connection bet ween t he Dol ls Now you’re going to use the two dools to create a scenario where you and your ideal lover connect and act out the fantasy you you would like to have. ❂❂ Pick up the dolls, one in each hand, and get them talking to each other. Do this out loud. ❂❂ The doll which represents you could say, “Hi, we’re in this magical world together. I don’t know how we got here, but it is a beautiful place, and I couldn’t think of anyone more wonderful to be with at this time than you...” 74

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❂❂ The doll representing your lover-to-be could reply, “I feel the same. It’s like I never really noticed you before, but now I’ve seen something special in you, something that makes you stand out from the crowd. I don’t know what it is exactly; I mean I can’t put my finger on it, but it is there all the same, like a light shining from you...” ❂❂ The dialogue should become more and more romantic and passionate, to the point that the dolls’ hormones are literally singing with desire. You could then have them kiss each other tenderly... caressing each other...undressing each other... and then making love. ❂❂ Make the whole thing realistic. Verbalize their groans and moans of desire, and have them make love in different positions. Finally, when they both reach heaving, ecstatic climax, give a high-pitched yell for the female orgasm and a long, deep animalistic moan for the male. ❂❂ Once the two lovers are satiated, have them lay tenderly together, whispering “sweet nothings” to each other. Step 6: Close t he R it ua l Once you feel the love rite has come to a natural conclusion, give your thanks to the spirits and sprinkle some holy water around your working area. Then extinguish the black and white altar candles, but leave the red candles to safely) burn down. You may also find it beneficial to “earth” yourself by having a warm drink and something simple to eat. This will help you to forget all about the ritual, thus leaving the magic (or unconscious) forces in peace to set about bringing your romantic desires to fruition. The idea behind this spell is that you trust your unconscious, which, I can assure you, knows what is best for you. So long as your desires are congruous with your deeper needs, it will bring them into reality.

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Another way to use a Voodoo doll to attract a lover is as follows: ❂❂ You can set up your magic altar with appropriately romantic oils, candles, incenses and flowers. ❂❂ Then fill your charm bag or doll with herbs, roots and personal items from the individual you wish to attract, and recite a rhythmic love chant over the charm. ❂❂ After that, the bag or doll is hung around your neck or carried in a pocket, until the person you have enchanted becomes your lover.

Love At traction Cha r m A powerful love attraction charm, reputedly devised by Marie Laveau, is easily prepared by carefully mixing the following ingredients. ¸¸ 1/2 teaspoon of archangel herb (angelica) ¸¸ 1 teaspoon of Lovers Incense ¸¸ 1 teaspoon of spearmint (chopped)

❂❂ Take a piece of parchment paper and write your prospective lover’s name on it seven times in either your own blood (women should use menstrual blood) or in Dove’s Blood Ink. ❂❂ Now place the parchment paper, herbs and incense in an old tin can. Carefully set the contents alight and let them burn to ashes. ❂❂ When this is done, collect the cool ashes and put them into a red flannel (mojo) bag. Tightly tie the top of the bag and hang it around your neck on a white cotton string. This charm will render the one you love unable to resist making love to you. Marriage may even be a possibility.

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Needle Love Spell

This Voodoo spell is deceptively simple, yet highly effective. I’ve been teaching it to people for years and the results have often been startling. You can use this Voodoo spell for bringing love into your life generally, or to attract a specific person. You’ll need: ¸¸ two new needles ¸¸ red thread ¸¸ bay leaves

¸¸ a small leather pouch.

❂❂ Relax your mind and body, meditate for a minute or so, allowing the thoughts and worries of the day to flow away from you. Lay the two needles side by side, but opposite ways up - e.g. the point of one needle next to the eye of the other. ❂❂ Wrap the needles in bay leaves and wind the red thread around the leaves from top to bottom. This is your love charm. ❂❂ Hold the charm for a while in your hands. Visualize love coming into your life, or imagine a specific person coming to you. See the charm being imbued with numinous energy and almost taking on a life and power of its own. ❂❂ Put the charm in a small leather pouch and tie it securely. Carry the pouch with you at all times and you will gain the love of anyone you desire.

At tract a Specif ic Person If you’ve got your eye on a particular guy or woman, this love spell will help you attract them into your life. It will take the course of true love to the next level. Like similar spells, the Voodoo love spells acts upon the numinous. If it is meant to be, the spell will bring you together with the one you love. You will need: 77

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¸¸ Dried Marigold flowers

¸¸ sachet of sugar

¸¸ Cleo May powder

¸¸ parchment paper

¸¸ May Apple root ¸¸ Love Drops oil

¸¸ red drawstring bag ¸¸ a red pen.

❂❂ Choose a time of day or night when the hands on the clock are rising. As an example, you could choose between 8:30am and 9:00am to cast your Voodoo spell. Perform an opening ritual. This dispels any negative energies that may be around you, and it puts you in a meditative frame of mind, which is conducive to performing a Voodoo love spell. ❂❂ Put the Marigold flowers and May Apple root into the red drawstring bag. As you do so, say the following: “By the power of the Marigold and May Apple, my love will come to me.” ❂❂ Put three drops of Love Drops oil into the drawstring bag. Drop the sachet of sugar into the red drawstring bag - to “sweeten” the spell even more - and add an extra three drops of Love Drops oil.

❂❂ Now place some Cleo May powder in your right hand and blow it over the red drawstring bag. Secure the drawstring bag and perform a closing ritual.

❂❂ Carry the drawstring bag with you in your pocket or bag, and at night, keep it under your pillow. ❂❂ Lastly, each morning for the next seven days, smear a little Love oil on your neck before you go out.

All you have to do now is wait for the Voodoo love spell to do its work, and bring the one you love into your arms.

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O vercome Unrequited Love If you are in love with someone, but they aren’t showing signs of loving you too, try this Voodoo doll love spell to enchant them into only having eyes for you. You need to: ¸¸ Make or buy a red Voodoo doll ¸¸ Paint a pin’s head red

❂❂ Write the name of the person you desire on a piece of parchment paper (thick art paper is ideal). Attach this to the doll using the new pin. ❂❂ Place the Voodoo doll on a red cloth and anoint it with seven drops of Come To Me oil. Anoint two red candles with Luv Luv Luv oil (remembering to rub the oil towards you when anointing). Place the candles on either side of the doll. ❂❂ Light the candles and say the following prayer to the spirits to grant your wish: “Spirits, bring my dearest love, [their name], to me, Enchant [him/her] with love and desire for me, Make [their name] want me more than anything else in the world.” ❂❂ Allow the candles to burn down. Then keep the Voodoo doll and other items in a safe place. Repeat the ritual until a result is obtained - but don’t do the ritual more than once a week. If this Voodoo doll love spell doesn’t bring some glimmer of a result within 23 weeks, you will NEVER get a result. The universe and fate does not decree that you shall be with the person you desire.

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K EEPI NG LOV E To Bind a Lover to You

Once you have a lover, you may wish to ensure that he or she never leaves you. A good ritual for this requires the following ingredients: ¸¸ 1 teaspoon of couch grass (chopped or ground) ¸¸ 1 bottle of Luv Luv Oil

¸¸ 1 packet of Love Powder ¸¸ 1 bottle of Love Oil ¸¸ 1 Large red candle

❂❂ First sprinkle the couch grass under your bed, on the mattress and under your pillows.

❂❂ Then, when you rise each morning, rub a little Luv Luv Oil on your genitals and sprinkle a little Love Powder over your pubic hairs. (Be careful using these ingredients on your body - test them on a small area of skin first.) ❂❂ Anoint the candle with Love Oil.

❂❂ Then, using your own blood or Dove’s Blood Ink, write your lover’s name on parchment. ❂❂ Put the paper on a white saucer and the candle on top of it.

❂❂ Burn the candle every morning while you dress and extinguish it on leaving the room. ❂❂ Do this for seven days and your lover will never leave you.

Gy psy Love Binding Spell

This spell was given to me by my great uncle Roland, a gypsy (on his mother’s side). He was in his seventies when I was a teenager and was then living in Warwickshire, having spent many years on the road due to his nomadic roots. 80

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He said the spell would keep a couple together through thick and thin. This is what you do: ❂❂ Take a blade of grass in your mouth. Preferably a piece of long meadow grass if you’ve got a wild area in your garden, or get some from a nearby park that has a wildlife-friendly section (my local branch library has a butterfly garden, which has lots of meadow grasses). ❂❂ Turn to the east and say: “When the sun goes up, shall my love be by me!”

❂❂ Then turn to the west and say: “When the sun goes down, there by his side I’ll be.”

❂❂ Now cut the blade of grass into pieces. Cook up a meal for your loved one and before you serve it up add the grass to their portion - if the meal is chilli or Spaghetti Bolognese, this should be easy. According to my great uncle, your loved one only has to swallow the tiniest piece of grass for them to be “loyal and true hearted”.

Red Witch “Ever more” Spell

A young woman called Gwen was at one of the Voodoo magic workshops I host now and then. She told me she’d been living with a guy for just over four years and they were about to get married. Both were very happy. But Gwen wanted to make sure it stayed that way. “Everything is going great with us, Doc,” she said. “The relationship is very loving and passionate. It’s just I want to keep my lover true to me for life. I don’t want his passion and commitment to fade.” I recommended she use my Red Witch “Evermore” spell to bind her guy to her. If you also need to keep a guy true to you for life (it also works if you need to keep a woman true to you) this is what you do. Perform the following after sunset: ❂❂ Sit at a table at a quiet time when no one else is around and you won’t be disturbed. ❂❂ Relax your body and clear you mind of thoughts. Visualize a protective white light around you, which will keep out any negative forces. 81

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❂❂ Light three sticks of Lovers incense. If you don’t have an incense holder improvise by pushing each stick into a wad of BluTac or Play-Doh. ❂❂ Anoint a “Red Witch” candle with Cleo May oil and Controlling oil. As you do so, say the following three times: “Red Witch, let this offering make my lover [their name] mine alone, and make our passion last for evermore, in this world and the next.” ❂❂ Burn the candle for around ten minutes. Repeat the ritual for three evenings. This spell will have a long-term effect, and can be left to work its magic. But it is always worth redoing it on occasion to ensure the bond of commitment remains intact and the path of true love runs smoothly. In a sense, of course, Voodoo love binding spells become part of the ceremony of marriage itself, whether your prospective spouse knows you have performed a working or not. They make up an alternative ritual, a secret one on the part of one of the partners.

GE T T I NG LOV E B ACK Br ing Back a Lover If your lover has left you this Voodoo spell will make him or her think again. It will stop them in their tracks with a pang of terrible, heart-rending regret that they walked out on you. They will be asking themselves: “Why did I give up? Why in the name of God did I do it?” You will need the following ingredients: ¸¸ Forget Me Not oil,

¸¸ Plus a red drawstring bag,

¸¸ Pineapple oil,

¸¸ some parchment paper (thick art paper

¸¸ John the Conqueror root, ¸¸ and Valerian root. 82

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¸¸ a red pen.

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❂❂ Choose a time of day or night when the clock hands are rising. For example, you could choose between 10:30am and 11:00am to cast your Voodoo lover back spell. Now fix up your workspace and do an opening rite. This gets rid of negative energies and puts you in a trance-like frame of mind, which is the ideal state for performing your Voodoo lover back spell. ❂❂ Anoint two red candles with Pineapple oil. In works of attraction or drawing, like this one, always run the oil from the wick to the base. Place the anointed candles on your altar, one to the left of you, one to the right. ❂❂ Write the name of your lost lover on the parchment paper using a red pen. Fold up the parchment and place it in the red drawstring bag. ❂❂ Now place the John the Conqueror root and Valerian root into the drawstring bag. John the Conqueror brings victory against the odds, while Valerian strengthens a love spell. ❂❂ Now let three drops of Pineapple oil drip into the red drawstring bag. As you do so, say the following: “My lover, once your were lost to me, now you shall return into my loving embrace!” ❂❂ Secure the drawstring bag, snuff out the candles, and perform a closing ritual. Keep the mojo bag in a secure place away from prying eyes. ❂❂ Additionally, wear some Forget Me Not fragrance everyday for seven days. It will keep you in your lost lover’s mind. Your image will keep cropping up in his mind’s eye and he will pine for you. Now it’s just a matter of time before your ex lover gets in touch with you and you get back together again.

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Cake to Ret urn a Lost Lover or Husband

Bake a cake and include a mixture of Clove and Cinnamon. Use a quarter teaspoon of each. ❂❂ Before you add the Clove and Cinnamon mix the two together in a small bowl. ❂❂ Light two red candles. ❂❂ Relax your mind and body. Hold your hands over the bowl, palms down, and recite Psalm 23 from the Holy Bible as follows: 1. The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. 2. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, 3. He restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. 4. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me, your rod and your staff, they comfort me. 5. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. 6. Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. ❂❂ Now spend a moment or two visualizing your lost lover or husband and you back together again. ❂❂ Snuff out the candles (never blow them out). ❂❂ Now finish baking your cake. ❂❂ Serve it to the one you wish to enchant.

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FOR WOM EN If your partner is unfaithful to you, it can be like a dagger through the heart. The pain and sense of betrayal can be truly devastating. Clearly, both sexes are capable of straying. But studies, and the seemingly endless stories in the popular press, show overwhelmingly that it is men who are the most likely to have affairs - and lie through their teeth to conceal them. Sometimes their affairs are on a spectacular scale. The late Sir James Goldsmith, the flamboyant billionaire who died in 1997, for example, had families with his string of mistresses. His wife Annabel reluctantly and painfully learned to live with it. Mick Jagger was another serial adulterer. He used to take his girlfriends to the house he shared with his then wife Jerry Hall. Amazingly, he didn’t even bother to usher them out when she returned home. The last straw for Jerry was when Jagger fathered a child with another woman. Clearly, most men don’t do infidelity on such a grand scale. But even a passionate kiss with a work colleague at an office party can be very hurtful - and can lead you to wonder whether your man is capable of going further.

Celebr it y Love Voodoo

Many wives and girlfriends put up with their men’s infidelities. Jerry Hall may have walked out on Mick Jagger but Victoria Beckham stayed with hubby David despite his widely reported dalliance with his former PA, Rebecca Loos. Some celebrity divas, however, have harnessed the power of Voodoo to make sure their men don’t do the dirty on them. Jennifer Lopez is one. In 2006, her former husband, Ojani Noa, claimed that the Latin actress and singer cast Voodoo spells on him and other lovers. After their marriage ended, he claimed “she was doing bad things to a lot of people.” Noa stated that Lopez practiced a branch of Voodoo known as Santeria (also known as the “Way of the Saints.”) which draws on African traditions of chanting, trance states and animal sacrifice. It’s most commonly practiced in the Caribbean and in the Bronx, New York, where J.Lo comes from. 85

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This wasn’t the first time it had been alleged that J.Lo may be a devotee of Santeria. In 2003, it was reported that Lopez called off her wedding to Ben Affleck after her spiritual advisor, Santerian priestess Merle Gonzalez, warned against it. Angelina Jolie is another Hollywood star who has been linked with Voodoo. According to a report in the National Enquirer in 2007, Jolie had been taking instruction from a Voodoo priestess several times a week. She had also reportedly bought many other occult books and was touring the infamous New Orleans cemeteries, no doubt visiting the grave of the famous 19th cenury “Voodoo queen” Marie Laveau (1801-1881), who is buried in the Saint Louis Cemetery. With Jolie’s pedigree in Voodoo it’s hard to imagine Brad Pitt, or, for that matter, J.Lo’s husband Marc Anthony, daring to even look at another woman. It would be great to be 100% certain that your husband or boyfriend won’t stray. But if you are in any doubt about your partner’s ability to be faithful, then you might like to try a little (harmless) Voodoo on him to make sure he stays true to you.

Manhood Jin xer Spell

One of the most effective “no-stray” remedies is the “manhood jinxer” spell used by old-time Voodoo practitioners in Louisiana. My Voodoo mentor, Earl Marlowe, used to say of the working: “It’s a sure fire method of stopping a man straying because it renders him unable to get aroused with anyone else but you.” The manhood jinxer spell is simple and straightforward to perform. Here’s how it is done: Step One: Col lect t he Ing redients

¸¸ Blue Manhood Candle (this is actually sold as a “Blue Penis Candle”). ¸¸ African Ju Ju oil.

¸¸ Voodoo doll (which will represent your partner who you are going to enchant). ¸¸ Pubic hairs (taken surreptitiously from your man).

¸¸ Glue stick (the sort used for sticking paper and card). 86

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The Blue Manhood Candle, African Ju Ju oil and Voodoo doll can be obtained from any good occult or spiritual supplies store. If you prefer, of course, you can easily make your own Voodoo doll as described previously. Step Two: A lta r

Now that you have everything you need to work your spell, it’s time to set up a simple altar, which will help you focus your inner powers during the ritual. All you need is a desk or table, two white candles and an incense stick or aromatherapy burner. Pine, Sandalwood or Cedar fragrances are best. Put one candle on the right side of your altar/table, the other on the left. Place your incense stick or aromatherapy burner towards the back. Light the candles and incense/aromatherapy burner. Step T hree: Cleansing

Before you perform your spell, it’s worth doing a psychic cleansing rite. Simply call to the spirits of the four directions, and above and below. This helps set the scene mentally, and keeps out unwanted negativity. Do the following: Clap three times and say:

“I call to the spirits high in the sky, I call to the spirits deep down underground. I call to the east, I call to the west, I call to the north, and I call to the south. I walk to the place between the worlds in my spirit mind.”

Step Four: T he R it ua l

❂❂ Sit quietly for a few minutes and think about the goal you want to achieve - i.e. keeping your husband or partner faithful to you.

❂❂ Now take the pubic hairs you obtained from your man and rub them across the glue stick, then stick them to the crotch region of the Voodoo doll. 87

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❂❂ Using a new nail, write your man’s name on the Blue Manhood Candle. Then place the base of the candle between the legs of the doll, so it looks as if it is his private part. ❂❂ Now mix a little African Ju Ju oil and Citronella oil on the palms of your hands and rub them on the Manhood Candle, stroking downwards. As you do this, repeat the following chant seven times: “Manhood candle, oh Manhood candle, As I stroke you with these oils, Keep [partner’s name] nature from Rising for anyone but me.” ❂❂ Light the candle and let it burn down by half-an-inch, then snuff it out. ❂❂ Do the same again each day, until the candle has completely burned out. At this point, your husband or partner will be physically unable to stray again - and will only be able to make love to you. Step Five: Closing To close the ritual, simply clap three times and say: “I thank the spirits of the sky, I thank spirits of the underground. I close the gates of the west and east, I close the gates of the north and south. My magic now done, I cast my spell to the tides of fate and destiny.” Now take three deep breaths, then stand up and walk around the room looking at all the objects that might be there - such as furniture and pictures - and touch a few of these objects. This grounds you and brings you back into everyday reality. And if you’ve got any doubts about your partner, just mentioning the Manhood Jinxer spell could well be enough to stop your partner straying the nest! 88

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R ite of the Succubi According to folklore the succubus was a female demon that tormented monks with lustful advances while they slept. That’s only one side of it. You can trace the roots of the succubus to an ancient magical technique that was used by women to make the man they were in love with become infatuated with them. The technique involves astrally projecting your spirit body into the dreams of your chosen man and seducing him on the etheric plane. Although rarely covered in the annals of love magic, it is one of the most powerful methods of gaining the attention of the guy you’ve got your eye on. It’s well worth trying if you are friendly with a guy and want your relationship to turn into a full blown love affair. This is what you do to become a succubi and astrally travel into the dreams of the guy you would like to date. Before you begin you love magic ritual, dress up in your sexiest clothes - and apply makeup - just like you would if you were going to meet the guy in person. This will get you in the seductive frame of mind. ❂❂ Chose the Right Time Choose a time when the man you are interested in has been asleep for an hour or so. Make certain of this - either by telephoning him earlier in the evening or by talking to him on social networks or instant messaging. ❂❂ Chose the Right Place Do your love ritual in a room where you won’t be disturbed - your bedroom would be ideal. If you’ve got an essential oil burner, it would be worth burning some Ylang Ylang, which is associated with sensuality. ❂❂ Relax Then lie down on the bed or on a mat on the floor and relax. Take a few deep breaths and imagine waves of vibrant well-being flowing through your body. Focus your attention 89

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on the “Dantian” acupoint around the pit of your stomach. Picture warmth and energy building up in that area. ❂❂ Travel to your Lover Now imagine yourself rising out of your body and floating out of your house to the home of your chosen guy. See him clearly. Build an exact representation of him in your mind’s eye. Float above him as he sleeps. Feel the energy from the Danian surging through you. ❂❂ Merge with your Lover Take a deep breath and send your whole body into his, so you literally meld with him and become like one body. Allow the energy from your Dantian to surge through both your bodies, which are joined as one. Imagine that the atoms in your bodies are dancing together, the neutrons fusing into one. ❂❂ Withdraw and Return When you feel that this fusing together has peaked slowly extract your body from his and gently float back to your own home. ❂❂ Grounding Take some deep breaths and ground yourself by looking at everyday objects in your room. If staying up till late doesn’t bother you, it is worth doing this love magic ritual three nights in a row. If you persevere your “dream lover” will become a physical reality.

R A BBI T A N D T H E H ER B DOC TOR Many of these concoctions might seem a little convoluted, if not outright bizarre to some. But, believe me, they’re nothing compared to the kind of ingredients that used to be used in love spells, long ago in Africa. One wonderful old tale, recorded on the cotton plantations of the southern states during the nineteenth century, illustrates this. It concerns Rabbit, the trickster - a character close to my heart and a familiar spirit I’ve had to call on many times during my life. 90

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Long, long ago, Rabbit fell in love with a high-cheek-boned beauty, with long obsidian hair. In order to ensure his courtship went smoothly, he went to an African herb doctor for some love magic. “Bring me an elephant tusk, an alligator tooth and the bill of a ricebird,” instructed the herb doctor , “and I’ll make you up a charm bag.” So Rabbit went off in search of an elephant. Once he’d found an elephant, however, he realized the task was going to be far from easy. So the wily bunny thought for a moment and came up with a cunning plan. “Lotsa folks roundabout say you da strongest animal in the whole world,” he said to the elephant, “but I bets you can’t uproot that big pine tree, over yonder?” Indignant, the elephant charged the tree with all its might and uprooted it in one. But in doing, one of his tusks got stuck in the trunk of the tree. Quick as a flash, Rabbit pulled the tusk from the fallen tree and took it to the herb doctor.

Next, Rabbit located an alligator. He suggested that the two of them should clear away the undergrowth and make a good road to the creek. The alligator liked the idea and began to sweep the ground with its tail, while Rabbit beat the bush with a cane. Accidentally on purpose, Rabbit hit the alligator with his cane, knocking out a tooth, which he promptly picked up and took to the herb doctor. Finally, Rabbit found a ricebird and asked if it could fly.

“Of course I can fly,” replied the ricebird and, when the wind blew, it flew up in the air to prove it.

Rabbit congratulated the ricebird on its flying prowess, but wondered whether the bird could fly somewhere where there was no wind, and suggested it try flying in a house. Once Rabbit had located a suitable house, the ricebird, full of confidence, flew around inside. Without a moment’s hesitation, sly old Rabbit shut the door, caught the bird, extracted its bill and took it to the herbalist. True to his word, the herb doctor made Rabbit a charm bag out of the ingredients. It worked a treat - not long afterwards, Rabbit married his girl.

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THE DEVIL’S PACT

PA RT I - T H E CROSSROA DS

We were driving through the heart of the Mississippi Delta on a spiritual mission. We were trying to locate the holy of holies for Hoodoos - the crossroads where, sometime during 1930, the influential bluesman Robert Johnson allegedly sold his soul to the Devil in exchange for guitar expertise and fame. No one knows the exact location of Johnson’s crossroads; so we were relying on instincts to find it. Earl was at the wheel and I was riding shotgun in the big red Cadillac we’d hired back in Jackson. The midday sun burnt down on us. “Do you believe Robert Johnson really sold his soul to the Devil?” I asked Earl. “Yeah, I believe it,” he said. “You gotta believe it if you’re black. It’s the whites that don’t believe it.” 93

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Earl went on to explain that Johnson’s biographers and commentators tend to fall into two racial camps: the black bluesmen who knew him and believe he made a pact with the Devil at the crossroads, and the white folklorists and musicologists, who don’t. So far as Earl was concerned, Johnson’s white biographers were “university-educated intellectuals, full of pompous rationality.” Accordingly, they describe him as an ‘existential’ blues singer, who died young and tragically, and compare him to white romantic figures such as Orpheus, John Keats and James Dean. Earl was utterly repelled by this. “They paintin’ a black face on a white man,” he said. “Why, in the name of the Devil himself, don’t they at least compare Johnson to Jimi Hendrix or Bob Marley?” Earl argued that white authors tend to distort Johnson’s story to the point that it reads more like a Shakespearean tragedy than what it really is - an odyssey into the world of Hoodoo. “You wanna find the key to Robert Johnson, then study Hoodoo,” he said. “But there ain’t many white intellectuals got the guts to do that.” In Earl’s view, the Faustian pact mythos surrounding Robert Johnson simply reveals that he had been involved with a Hoodoo practitioner who taught him the mystical lore of the crossroads. As we drove further down the dusty roads of Mississippi, we sank into silence, and I mused on Robert Johnson’s life story - the facts of which are sketchy and vague. He was probably born on May 8, 1911, in Hazlehurst, Mississippi - the result of a brief extramarital affair between Julia Ann Dodds and a local plantation worker called Noel Johnson. Two years previously, Julia’s husband Charlie had been run out of Hazlehurst by a lynch mob, due to falling out with some local landowners, called the Marchetti brothers. The Marchettis later also evicted Julia from her home, forcing her to send her children, including Robert, to live with Charlie, who had settled in Memphis, Tennessee, with his mistress and their two children. But around 1919, Robert returned to the Delta, to the area around Robinsonville, to live with his mother and her new husband, Dusty Willis. Robert is said to have taken on the name Johnson as a teenager when he learned who his real father was; up until then he’d been called Robert Leroy Dodds Spencer. 94

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Music was a longtime interest for Johnson, and his first instruments were the Jew’s harp and harmonica. Before he became seriously involved with the guitar, however, he married Virginia Travis in February 1929, and the young couple soon became expectant parents. But tragedy struck when Virginia, only sixteen years old, died in childbirth in 1930. Around June of that year, renowned blues musician Son House moved to Robinsonville. His music deeply affected Johnson, who considered it the “rawest, most direct pure emotion” he had ever heard, and he followed House and his musical partner, Willie Brown, wherever they went. By this time he had dedicated himself to playing the guitar, but apparently didn’t have much of a gift for the instrument. Commenting on his playing, Son House said, “Such another racket you ever heard! It made people mad, you know. They’d come out and say, ‘Why don’t y’all go in there and get that guitar from that boy! He’s running people crazy with it.’” Unhappy and unwilling to be caught in the sharecropper’s world of backbreaking work with little reward, Johnson left Robinsonville and headed deep into the Delta, to near Hazlehurst, his birthplace. There he played the jook joints, which were tumbledown shanties where people danced, drank, gambled and listened to music. He also found a “kind and loving woman” more than ten years his senior, named Calletta “Callie” Craft. The couple were married in May 1931, but, at Johnson’s insistence, they kept the marriage a secret. Johnson’s time in southern Mississippi was very important because it was there that his musical talent came to fruition. When he returned to Robinsonville, Son House and Willie Brown were astounded by his development. “He was so good!” recalled Son. “When he finished all our mouths were standing open. I said, “Well ain’t that fast! He’s gone now!’” This was when rumours began about Johnson trading his soul to the Devil in exchange for guitar expertise. Not only had he suddenly become a brilliant musician, but he had also gained extraordinary charisma, to the point that his performance often moved a crowd to tears. He also attracted many blues players, destined to become famous in their own right, as his disciples. On top of all this, his career took off. 95

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The idea that you could sell your soul to the Devil in exchange for talent and fame was not new; it had been a part of black culture for years. The Reverend LeDell Johnson (no relation to Robert) described how his brother Tommy, like Robert Johnson, left home scarcely able to play the guitar and came back an accomplished musician. “Now, if Tom was living, he’d tell you. He said the reason he knowed so much, said he sold hisself to the Devil. I asked how. He said, “If you want to learn how to play anything you want to play and learn how to make songs yourself, you take your guitar and go to where a road crosses that way, where a crossroad is. Get there, be sure to get there just a little “’fore twelve that night so you know you’ll be there. You have your guitar and be playing a piece there by yourself... A big black man will walk up there and take your guitar and he’ll tune it. And then he’ll play a piece and hand it back to you. That’s the way I learned to play anything I want.” Son House was convinced that Robert Johnson had done the same thing, as were many other blues players. Johnson went to San Antonio late in November, 1936. There, over a period of five days, he made his first recording. When he was finished, he returned home to Mississippi. Being a recording artist brought Johnson a good degree of fame; he now found eager and expectant crowds nearly everywhere he played. Johnson travelled to such places as St. Louis, Memphis, Illinois, and back home to the Delta. Then, on Saturday night, August 13, 1938, at a jook joint named Three Forks, near Greenwood, Johnson played his last gig. Of the many rumours concerning Johnson’s death, poisoning is the most substantiated. His death certificate was found in 1968, verifying that he died in Greenwood, Mississippi. He was buried in a small church in nearby Morgan City. One of the few certainties about Robert Johnson’s life and music is the lasting effect it has had on popular music and culture. Although not a household name himself, some of those who aspired to be like him are. Rock legends Jimmy Page and Robert Plant (Led Zeppelin), 96

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Eric Clapton (Cream), The Rolling Stones and Elvis Presley, were all inspired by the music of Robert Johnson.

And, in turn, their music has had an enormous impact on the development of pop, rock, country and blues - as well as on the styles of music that continue to derive from these forms. Rumor has it that Robert Plant keeps a vial of dirt, supposedly from Johnson’s crossroads. At the very heart of blues and rock music, both of which have been described as the “Devil’s music”, lies the shadow of the Faustian pact, as epitomized by Robert Johnson. But behind the mythos of the “deal with the Devil” lies the Hoodoo lore of the crossroads.

In Southern black communities during Robert Johnson’s time, it was a commonly held notion that you could go to a crossroads and meet the Devil. This concept has its roots in the African belief that a guardian spirit inhabits the crossroads. The Yoruba tribes of Nigeria call this spirit Eshu, while the Fon of Dahomey call it Legba. This spirit is the intermediary not only between the supreme deity and the gods, but also between humans and the gods. This is why, in all African-derived religions worldwide, the crossroads deity is always first to be honoured and called upon in any ceremony.

The god of the crossroads is also a trickster. An unpredictable character, whose jokes and tricks are normally mischievous and benign, but do sometimes turn malicious. This aspect of the trickster is, no doubt, why the Christians, when they arrived in Africa, associated him with the Devil.

The Africans who were taken to America as a result of the slave trade retained the demonic appellation, particularly in the southern states. But for them, the Devil wasn’t the evil terror of Judeo-Christian belief. On the contrary, he was a tutelary spirit, who could teach you both physical and mental skills. Even his trickster nature served a teaching function in that it showed that being unpredictable and doing the unexpected were, in fact, creative and effective approaches to solving problems.

The tutelary aspect of the crossroads deity was emphasized by a friend of Earl’s the Reverend Gary Fox, a Texan conjure man, whom we visited before embarking on our odyssey into the Mississippi Delta.

“The Devil ain’t nobody to be afeared of,” he insisted. “He a spirit, like any other spirit. Ain’t no better, ain’t no worse. But if you want to learn how to do something - like how to play the 97

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guitar or banjo, or how to do sorcery, then you have to sell yourself to the Devil. That’s the way it is.” I asked him how someone would go about this?

“You have to go to the cemetery at the stroke of midnight for nine nights, and get some dirt and bring it back with you and put it in a little bottle,” he replied. “Then find a place where the roads cross, a crossroads, and at midnight, for nine nights, sit there and try to play that guitar. Don’t care what you see come there, don’t get ’fraid and run away.” “What do people see?”

“Mostly they see black animals. Might be a black rooster, black bull, black dog or cat - even a black smoke comes down so’s you can’t see anything. Then, on the last midnight there will come a rider, in the form of the Devil, riding at lightnin’ speed. You stay there, still playin’ your guitar, and when he has passed, you can play any tune you want to play or do any magic trick you want because you have sold yourself to the Devil.”

So, from what the Rev. Gary Fox said, it would seem that selling your soul to the Devil doesn’t have particularly dire implications. The myth surrounding Robert Johnson implies that, in exchange for fame and guitar brilliance, or whatever skill you are seeking, you must die young, forfeit your soul and spend eternity in Hell. But this isn’t borne out by the evidence, as reported by actual Hoodoo practitioners.

I was beginning to wonder whether the Hoodoo notion of selling your soul to the Devil is more a metaphor than a real pact. It may describe the process of contacting our unconscious mind, which is the instinctive and creative aspect of ourselves. When you go to the crossroads, you learn to enter trance and thus, in effect, allow your unconscious mind - your “Devil”, perhaps - to come to the fore. My take on what happened to Robert Johnson is that he went to a lonely crossroads, played some guitar and experienced visions on a par with those experienced by shamans during their initiatory vision quest. This allowed his unconscious, or inner-genius, to take control of his guitar playing thus his musicianship became outstanding. It also brought him a high level of charisma which is something you can learn to exude through profound contacts with your unconscious resources.

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None of this is to say that the Devil, or the spirit of the crossroads, did not appear to Robert Johnson. It all depends on what model of reality you’re using. If you believe in the Devil, as Johnson and other bluesmen did, then the Devil will appear. If you believe in the unconscious, then the unconscious will manifest itself. What matters is the results you get.

Fame and For t une R ite

If you are a musician, actor, artist or dancer and wish to achieve fame and fortune, then this rite will help you achieve your dreams. You must visit a lonely and desolate crossroads every night for seven nights. ❂❂ On the first day, clap your hands three times and call to the spirits of the place. Say something along the lines of the following chant: “Spirits of the crossroads, show yourselves, Let us walk the lonely mile together, And let us share the dream of the Hidden God, Who lies deep within my being.” ❂❂ On the following five days, just go to the crossroads and talk with the spirits; tell them all about your artistic ambitions. Go into great detail, to the point of mapping out the level of success you would like to achieve over the next decade. ❂❂ On the seventh night, visit the crossroads at midnight, taking with you your musical instrument, paints or whatever you need. Acknowledge the spirits, then gather a few handfuls of crossroads dirt and rub it all over your face and body and in your hair. ❂❂ Then either play your musical instrument, act out a role, paint a picture or dance - whatever your chosen field. Once you get thoroughly engrossed, the spirits will possess you, body and soul. This might last for up to an hour. Once the spirits are gone, they will have left you with the gift of genius and you will go on to achieve great success with your chosen art. Remember to thank the spirits for their help and leave an offering of food or alcohol. 99

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Crossroads Mag ic

A central belief of Hoodoo, which has its roots in African sorcery, is the idea that the intersection of two roads, the crossroads, is a place of great magical power. According to one Hoodoo practitioner, a murderer can evade capture if, when he reaches the crossroads, he takes nine steps backwards down the road opposite to that which he intends to travel along. This will ensure that the pursuer takes the wrong road.

After a job (or spell) has been completed, many Hoodoo practitioners dispose of the remnants - leftover candle wax, incense ashes, footprint dirt, ritual bath water, and so on - at the crossroads. They throw them into the intersection, turn, and walk home without looking back.

If a love spell has been worked, some Hoodooists mark every crossroads between their home and that of their lover with ritual objects, to cement the bond and draw the desired one closer.

In spells to drive away enemies, ritual items are often thrown into a series of crossroads on the way out of town, to push the hated person away and to act as deterrents against his or her return.

Hoodoo Bluesman

As we’ve seen, Robert Johnson was a bluesman who practiced Hoodoo. Not surprisingly, Witchcraft and Hoodoo are prominent topics in his lyrics. The malevolent use of Hot Foot Powder in the South during the 1930s, for instance, is attested to in his haunting anthem, “Hellhound on my Trail”. Johnson apparently attributes his restless life to the fact that a woman (“rider”) has barred him from his home by sprinkling Hot Foot Powder around the door. Whether or not this was literally the case, it is a fact that Johnson never settled for long in one place. “You sprinkled hot foot powder, mmm, mmm, around my door, all around my door. You sprinkled hot foot powder 10 0

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all around your daddy’s door, hmm, hmm, hmm, It keep me with ramblin’ mind, rider, every old place I go, every old place I go.” And in one of his finest songs, “Come on into my Kitchen”, Johnson mentions the “nation sack”, which is the name for a particular type of mojo hand, or charm bag—one that is only carried by women, and is worn hanging from a belt at the waist: “Oh-ah, she’s gone, I know she won’t come back, I’ve taken the last nickel out of her nation sack.”

Bewa re the Ghost of Rober t Johnson

During our journey into the American South, Earl told me how certain Hoodoo conjurers in Mississippi believed that Johnson’s ghost haunts many country intersections in that region. “If you are a musician and pass through a country crossroads in Mississippi at the witching hour, you need to beware,” he said. “Otherwise Robert will take you by the hand like the pied piper and lead you down to hell.” Earl added that the spectral Robert Johnson would then take you to the Devil and try to trade your soul with him in a bid to get out of the bargain he made with the Devil back in the early 1930s. But according to Earl, the Devil is picky. He only accepts the souls of musicians with genuine star potential. He doesn’t take amateurs or deluded wannabees. “But if you got talent and charisma, it ain’t safe to pass through a country crossroads at midnight in Mississippi,” said Earl. “Otherwise Robert might just come along and try to trade your soul.” Earl made clear that this was a bad deal all round. “You won’t get nothing out of it,” he said. “No fame. No uncanny musical ability. You’ll just be sacrificing your immortal soul to rescue Robert from his deal with the Devil.” 101

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Snakeman’s Blues By sundown, Earl and I had found what we instinctively felt was the crossroads where Robert Johnson sold his soul to the Devil. We parked up the Cadillac and sat down in the centre of the dusty crossing of the ways. I set up my guitar and began to play a slow, haunting blues. Earl blew a delicate tune on his harmonica to go along with it, then he gently sang a lyric I’d written, which went: “In the heat of the moment, this miracle like an ancient rain, falling north of the city of time, where I will wait for you, wait for you. And in the evening when the white dust falls, we’ll escape the mundane days. Hear the sky splashing softly on the east side of paradise, in the rainbow land, where a Hoodoo sun shines, and a mojo rain falls.” After we’d had something to eat, we pulled out our sleeping bags and went to sleep beside Robert Johnson’s crossroads, under the Delta stars.

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PA RT II - SE A LI NG T H E DE A L

During the time I spent with Earl Marlowe he told me how to sell your soul to the Devil at the crossroads. What he told me was old Hoodoo knowledge that had been handed down to him by an old conjure doctor in the American South, where Earl lived for a number of years. The rite at the crossroads underpins Swamp Voodoo, the tradition Earl passed on to me.

As I’ve related, Earl Marlowe was a blues singer who I used to back on guitar. That’s why Earl related to me how a guitar player should go about making a pact with Ole Satan (a fearsome conjurer in the Holy Bible) at the crossroads.

Earl had received this lore from the conjure man he knew in the South. What this old practitioner knew came from before the time legendary 1930’s bluesman Robert Johnson allegedly sold his soul at a lonely Mississippi crossroads. But it would have been around the time Peetie Wheatstraw (mostly a blues piano player) were talking of the diabolic pacts they’d made. This is what Earl told me:

“If you wanna make a contract with the Devil, first thing you gotta do is trim yo’ finger nails close as you can. Take a Black Cat Bone [don’t hurt cats, use chicken bones instead and paint them black] and a guitar and go to a lonely crossroads at midnight.

“Sit down there and play your best riff. As you do so think and wish for the Devil to come. By the by, you will hear music in the cold distance, quiet at first, but gettin’ louder and louder as the musician come closer. “Do NOT look around: Just keep playin’ yo’ guitar.

“The invisible guitar player will eventually sit down by you and play in unison with you. After a while, you will hear something alive tugging at your guitar. Do NOT try to hold on to it. Let the Devil take it and keep strumming along with your fingers as if you still had the guitar in your hands. “Soon enough the Devil will hand you his instrument to play and will accompany you on your guitar. Again you’ll be playin’ riffs in unison. “After a time, he’ll grab your hands and trim your fingernails until they bleed. Do NOT be afraid. Finally, Ole Satan will take his guitar back, and give you back yours.

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“Keep on playing. And do NOT look around. His music will become fainter and fainter as he walks away into the distance. “When it’s all quiet, you can go home. You’ll find you can play anything you want to on the guitar. And you’ll be able to do anything you want in this world. But you have sold your eternal soul to the Devil and you will be his in the world to come.” Earl said someone he knew from way back sold his soul in this way. “If he was locked in jail, the man would meet the jailer as he walked out of jail,” he said. “He could make his-self tiny so that no jail bars could hold him in. He also had the power of invisibility and could take whatever he desired from stores without fear of getting caught.” People have been known to get out of contracts with the Devil. In one case Earl knew of, the contract was broken by a duel with the Devil. During the fight the man managed to scratch the shape of the cross on the Devil’s chest... thus nullifying the pact. Some old conjure doctors say the Devil always gets his own—even if a person locks themselves in their room. As Earl said: “When the Devil finds the door locked, it don’t bother him none. He floats like a mist through the keyhole or crack in the door and lets his-self in that way.” That said, there is a secret formula attached to the above crossroads rite which puts you on an even footing with Ole Satan and there’s no question of a debt to him. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. “It ain’t something you can discuss in public,” said Earl. “It’s the secret tradition of Swamp Voodoo. Robert Johnson knew it. Tommy Johnson knew it. So did Peetie Wheatstraw. You bet they did! They weren’t slow. They was fast!”

t It might sound crazy, but giving up your shoes is a big part of making a deal with the Devil. You sell your soul to Old Nick, sign the parchment in blood, and give up your shoes too. As we’ve seen you go down to a lonely crossroads at midnight and wait for the Devil to come along. 10 4

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When he arrives he’ll take your guitar and tune it, then he’ll give it back to you, and ask you for your shoes. If you ask Satan why he wants your shoes, he’ll say: “Don’t worry, son, you’ll get ’em back in hell.” That’s the way it is. And as a by-the-by, there’s also a legend from Japan concerning Prince Hiromasa (918-980) which is reminiscent of old Southern lore surrounding meeting Satan at a lonely crossroads. Prince Hiromasa was walking one moonlit night at Suzaku Gate in Kyoto. He was playing the flute while he walked. Then he heard another flute harmonizing with his. The prince searched out the player and found him in the upper story of the gate. Having exchanged flutes, the two played music together right through the night. It isn’t just musicians that have reputedly made pacts with the Devil. Robin Maugham (1916-1981) was convinced that his uncle William Somerset Maugham (1874-1965), the popular author, had made a Faustian bargain in exchange for fame and fortune. In Maugham (1980) by Ted Morgan, Robin relates a curious incident that took place during his uncle’s last years. William Somerset Maugham looked towards the door of his room and started trembling violently. “Who’s that coming into the room?” he asked, his face contorted with fear. He then began to shriek, “Go away! I’m not ready! I’m not dead yet, I tell you!” Robin looked around the room, but it was empty. Shortly before his death, William Somerset Maugham asked Robin Maugham: “You don’t believe one can lose one’s soul so completely in this life that there is nothing left, do you?” Robin dutifully assured him this was not possible. Whether his uncle really sold his soul is open to debate. What is certain is William Somerset Maugham achieved a great deal of fame, entertaining many illustrious names at his Villa Mauresque on the French Riviera, including Noel Coward, Winston Churchill, and the Duke of Windsor, not to mention lunching with the Queen. 105

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Dealing with the Devil isn’t just about gaining fame and fortune. It’s also about gaining worldly power. For example, one time, Earl Marlowe and I were in a bar in Louisiana, drinking rum with the Reverend Gary Fox, a Voodoo doctor working out of Texas. Like Earl and I, the Rev. Fox was also a blues musician. He was telling us how he had been hired by a wealthy and powerful guy looking to get into national politics. Rev. Fox told the guy: “If you wants real power, real evil power, you got to talk to the Devil his-self.” Apparently the guy didn’t even flinch. He just said: “I’ll do whatever needs to be done.” So Rev. Fox told him what a Faustian deal entails. This is what he said to the guy: “You need to go to the cemetery at the stroke o’ midnight. Say the Lord’s Prayer backwards. When the Devil come you denounce the world and all that is good. And tell Satan that you want to control his evil spirits too. You gotta tell him that you will give up everything for him. You gotta pray to him for six whole nights to convince him you is on his side. Otherwise he might think you ain’t serious about the undertaking. “That ain’t all. You gotta keep every promise you makes to the Devil. Fact is, he’ll come after you if you ever goes back on your word. See, when you enter the service of the Devil, he puts a mark on your head, behind your earlobe where it cain’t be seen. I’ve seen this wid my own eyes. “From then on, you is the Devil’s. He owns you. But you can control his spirits. You is blessed by the Devil and you is one o’ his agents on earth. That’s the way it is. All they doctors in the South tell you that.” According to Rev. Fox, when he told the guy all this, he just nodded and said: “How much will it cost?” 10 6

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He didn’t flinch when Rev. Fox quoted his usual fee for work of this nature: “$100,000 in cash, up front.”

Rock Sta r Wannabe Makes a Pact w ith Satan / T he Dev il The story of meeting with the Devil continues into recent times. One notable example is how I helped a a struggling musician who wanted to sell his soul for fame and fortune. It was one night in the summer of 2002 and we were staggering and stumbling through the driving rain in a deserted swamp near Lowestoft in Suffolk, Eastern England. It was nearly midnight. I looked over at Justin. He was shaking with fear, which was hardly surprising considering what we were about to do. “Listen man,” I said, “this is gonna be scary, but just stay calm.” Justin had an old, battered acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder; while I carried my leather doctor’s bag full of Voodoo herbs and potions, and other occult paraphernalia. I also wore a big government surplus backpack. Inside was a gallon can of petrol. The desolate landscape we were trudging through, on the far eastern edge of England, was Hawkins’ homeland. He and his brother Dan (lead guitarists in the band), grew up in nearby Lowestoft, a coastal town that is often described as “gloomy” by the more shallow type of travel writer. You couldn’t blame Justin for feeling a little panicked. After all, we were about to trade his immortal soul with the Lord of Darkness himself in exchange for fame and fortune. I was to be the mediator of the Faustian pact—the demoniac middleman. I’d done this kind of thing before with other now famous rockers, the most notable being Marilyn Manson. But even I was nervy. Satan, though likeable and more witty and charming than the prude-crew 107

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up above, is a tricky character. And besides, I’d made my own bargain with him when I was a boy of twelve. “Are you sure I’m doing the right thing?” asked Hawkins at one point. “Well, I’d have left the spandex trousers behind,” I replied. “They might be great for gigs and raising your voice an octave or two, but not for muddy treks cross country in the dark.” “Fuck you,” he said, his sense of humour having deserted him. We marched on, getting scratched every so often by the gorse and Juniper bushes, and getting muddier by the minute. The sky was black as death. There was no moon to light the way and we were chilled to the bone. As we walked across the desolate marsh, it felt as if Hell itself was about open its gates—actually this was exactly what was going to happen. We arrived at the crossroads early, half-an-hour before midnight, the witching hour. So we sat down on some logs underneath a majestic Turkey oak, the branches of which provided ample shelter from the rain. I pulled out a bottle of Wild Turkey bourbon from my backpack and offered it to Justin to cheer him up. He took a long, slow grateful gulp and breathed “Pure nectar...” I took a swig myself and asked him how he rated the chances of his band making it big? “We’re a tight and mean rock & roll outfit,” he said. “But, above all, we’re different. I truly believe we’ve got what it takes and that we’ve got a special magic.” Throughout the 1990s, I talked to a lot of musicians. Some went on to make it, some didn’t. After a while, I learnt to tell at a glance who was going to hit the big time and who wasn’t. The thing that marks out the winners from the losers is a look in the eyes that speaks at some deep level of knowing their destiny. I could see that in Justin’s eyes. At that time, though, things weren’t going great for the band. They knew they’d got it. That they were a first rate act. Audiences knew it too. But record companies weren’t succumbing to their charms; nor was the music press. They were playing around London and were grindingly poor, investing the little cash they’d got into the band. 10 8

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Justin believed totally that he and his band were destined for greatness. But he was also aware of the dark legend of the Devil’s pact, which lies at the heart of rock music. Like most people in rock he knew that 1930s bluesman Robert Johnson had reputedly gone to a crossroads in the Louisiana swampland to trade his soul for fame and guitar expertise. Justin thought that maybe he should do the same: visit the intersection of the damned and put his immortal soul on the line. The ultimate shamanic sacrifice. In some sense, Justin came to believe that the pact was obligatory for achieving fame. Not long after this thought crossed his mind, he stumbled on my Voodoo Spellbook in a bookstore in London’s Camden Town. After reading my chapter on Johnson and the Devil’s bargain, he decided to get in touch with me. “What really sealed it was the fact that you live in Norwich, only 25 miles from Lowestoft, where I grew up,” Justin told me later. “I couldn’t believe it - it has to be the unlikeliest place on Earth for a Voodoo doctor to live.” I told him that fate works in mysterious ways and that “it wasn’t my choice to become a Voodoo doctor. I didn’t exactly do O’Level Voodoo.” I explained that I spent most of the 1980s playing guitar in bands in London. One of the bands I played in was fronted by a Trinidadian conjure man, or Voodoo worker, called Earl Marlowe. It was from him that I learned the art and craft of Voodoo, along with the lore surrounding the Devil’s pact at the crossroads. “Do you really believe in the Devil?” Justin asked. “Well, that’s a question everybody asks. And it’s a good one,” I said. “The truth is, I don’t believe in anything and I don’t take anything literally. That, in my opinion, is the royal road to ruin. It stops you being creative. Whereas if you maintain a stance of non-belief you are flexible enough to make anything possible. You can do anything.” This is the upside-down logic of the conjure man. Nothing is as it seems. And everything is possible. I don’t believe in anything. But I use belief as a driver, a powerful engine that gets things done in life. I’ll take on a belief for as long as it proves useful. Then I’ll discard it. I even became a Christian once, just to test the belief system out and to try to sleep with some of the women in the Christian fellowship club held weekly in the crypt of the Bristol church 10 9

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I attended for two months, just to see if their “sex as sin” conditioning could be broken down. But that’s another story... I looked at my watch. “It’s nearly midnight,” I said, “and we’ve got an appointment to keep.” I picked up my doctor’s bag and we made our way to the centre of the lonely crossroads. I then pulled out various potions and herbs and sprinkled them on the ground around us. I planted about 500 incense sticks and lit them, the pungent aroma making us gag as the smoke weaved and whirled around us. With Justin looking on apprehensively, I took the petrol can out of my backpack and proceeded to mark out a large circle in petrol around us. I then lit it with my trusty Skull & Crossbones lighter. Suddenly we were surrounded by a blazing circle of flame. Justin’s terror-stricken eyes reflected the dancing flames. Scared he might be, but I knew he was going to hold his own such was his desire for fame. And besides, there is no walking away from your destiny. “Okay, time to meet the gentleman from Hell,” I said. I began reciting the dark ritual that had been taught to me by Earl Marlowe, the Voodoo conjure man and singer from Trinidad. The words of this ancient rite are secret and cannot be revealed here. But as I recited the strange rhythmic words I began to slip into a hypnotic trance. At that point my deeper unconscious mind took over and I was wailing and yelling like one possessed. Fortunately, I’d warned Justin that this might happen, so he was prepared and stayed on an even keel of sheer terror, rather than slipping into utter gut-wrenching panic that makes you run for your life. The flames danced higher and higher. And then... the ground began to shake as the gates to the very bowels of Hell started to open. Blood red coals smoldered around a long, vast staircase that seemed to stretch forever into the earth. Eventually, the figure of a man appeared, climbing slowly up the stairs. It was Satan himself, looking dapper as ever. He appeared to be about 50, with a greying goatee beard, slicked-back hair, and wearing top and tails. A red handkerchief was set in his breast pocket. 110

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“So who has my trusty Snakeman brought to me this fine evening?” he asked, as the wind and rain battered against him. “I hope it’s better than the last one. A writer, wasn’t it? Who was she now? Potter? Or some such name?” “J.K. Rowling,” I replied, noticing Justin’s eyes go wide at the thought that he was in good (and rich and famous) company. “Ah, yes, I remember now. She was on her uppers writing kids books in Scotland.” “That’s right,” I said. “She’s become the richest and most famous children’s writer there has even been.” “Glad to hear it. Should bring a few more my way, eh?” he said with a wink. “But I must say they don’t make them like they used to. I remember Somerset Maugham was one of mine. Top class writer. He’s down here with me now. Same with the James Bond chap. What was his name now? Flaming, or some such...” “Something like that,” I cut in, motioning towards Justin and reminding him that we were here on business, not for a social chat. “Well, well, let’s have a look at the specimen you’ve brought to me today,” said Satan, peering with interest at Justin’s spandex trousers. He looked back over to me: “I think you need to get him a new tailor, old chap.” With that he gestured to Justin to follow him down the staircase into Hell. Justin looked at me. I nodded to reassure him that all was well. Satan put his arm around Justin and the two, now thick as thieves, made their way down to the land below. Justin was still clutching his guitar - which Satan would re-tune, once the Devilish pact was sealed. There was little else for me to do other than try and keep warm by the hot coals at the top of the staircase. What went on down in the bowels of Hell between Justin and Satan cannot be revealed. (Not yet, at least.) But when Justin emerged, a new fiercer light shone in his eyes. It was the unstoppable light you see in many of the great stars of film, music, and literature. Look closely at J.K. Rowling 111

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and you’ll see she has it. So does Marilyn Manson and Johnny Depp. And Robert Plant and Jimmy Page of Led Zeppelin. You could also see it in the eyes of cult writer William S. Burroughs.

After packing up my Voodoo kit and dowsing the fiery magic circle, Justin and I walked back across the marshes to civilisation (if you can call Lowestoft civilisation). We said very little, both of us drained from our demonaic encounter.

We didn’t stay in touch. But I was not surprised to hear that, soon after, The Darkness had secured a support slot with veteran metal outfit Def Leppard. This was followed up by a headlining gig at rock’s spiritual London home, the Astoria, where tickets sold out. They went on to steal the show at Glastonbury Festival 2003 and their debut album “Permission to Land” saw phenomenal sales. What’s more, Justin and the band are regularly covered in the media across the globe. And are particularly loved by the British tabloid press, which makes you a household name. All of which goes to prove rock music is not called the Devil’s music for nothing...

W hat Pr ice your Soul?

Now we’ve come to the point that I need to ask you a question. And that question is: Do you personally want to sell your soul to the Devil for fame and fortune, or for untold power? If you feel you would benefit from trading your immortal soul, then there is one critical thing you need to recognize, and this is: Not all souls are created equal. Some have premium value, others are not worth a bean. Therefore Satan is selective about which souls he will take for a Satanic pact for wealth and fame. However, for those with souls of less-than-premium value, all is not lost. But we’ll come to that shortly. The first thing you need to keep in mind is that selling your soul is not a done deal (if you’ll pardon the pun). You can’t just say, oh well, all else has failed so I’ll sell my soul to Satan. It doesn’t work like that. And besides, such a “last resort” attitude puts Satan in a fury. Understandably so. The terrible conceit with people who wish to sell their souls is they typically assume that their immortal soul is actually worth something. Big mistake. Still, you can understand why people think this way. But the fact is, it’s a misnomer. All souls are NOT created equal. Some are hugely valuable. Others a good deal less so.

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Unsurprisingly, the Devil doesn’t want just any soul. He wants the cream of the crop. If you are one of the lucky ones and your soul has great value then the Devil will come to you (as he did to Jesus Christ in the Bible stories and to various modern day celebrities and wealthy business magnates. He will make his presence known to you, most likely when you least expect it. And you will be able to make the pact with him. But if your soul is not of premium value (which is the case with the majority of people), then the Devil will not appear to you. He will not make his presence known. If this proves to be the case, do not despair. You simply have to attract Satan’s attention, flag up that you are ready and willing to make the trade. Practitioners of Voodoo and the black arts have long known how to attract the Devil’s attention–it’s very much part of their underground lore. It’s also critical that you do the Devil’s pact in the correct way. Traditional methods found in medieval grimoires (magic books) such as the Goetia simply do not work. They make the mistake of instructing you to control Satan by imprisoning him in magic circles and by declaring your faith in God and Christ, along with imploring them for their protection against infernal forces. And to cap it all, the demons of the Goetia are bound by using their corresponding angelic counterpart and the Shemhamphorash (one of the divine names of God). It’s all about putting diabolic forces in chains and denying them their freedom–all of which is 100% guaranteed to put Satan into an uncontrollable, spitting venom rage. Bottom line: the Devil doesn’t want to be controlled. He doesn’t take kindly to it. So what is the correct way to make the Devil’s pact? As we’ve seen, it’s absolutely no use trying to control the Devil. The Devil is a business man and must be deal with on a level playing field. Like any business deal, a pact with Satan has to be conducted between equals. You must approach Satan face-to-face with no magic circles or attempts to cast him in chains. Satan rules in Hell. But here on Earth – the upside – things are more evenly balanced and a deal between equals can be struck. You need to understand that balance and tip it in your favor. 113

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Such an understanding forms part of the specialist results magic used by sorcerers, be they from the British “cunning” tradition (who sold their magical services and wares on London markets in medieval times), diabolists, or conjure workers from the American South. But is it possible to get out of the Devil’s pact? Occult writer A.E. Waite noted that it is possible to get out of the Devil’s pact, but it is no easy matter and is far from guaranteed that it will be successful. What you do is very medieval and Catholic in style. You call up Satan before the contract is due to be collected and force him, by calling upon God and other divine names from the Christian tradition, to tear up the contract. You then repent your sins before dying. This is all well and good. But let’s be clear: you don’t need to worry about getting out of the Devil’s pact if you do it right in the first place. So what is the right way to do the deal? As stated, if your soul is valuable to Satan – if it is the cream of the crop – he will appear to you of his own accord and will offer you some terms. This happens all the time going back to Jesus Christ and before. In this instance, you don’t have to try to sell your soul. Satan will make his presence known. But if you are like most people, your soul will not be on the “A-list”. In this case you can seek to attract Satan’s attention. Flag up that you are prepared to bargain your immortal soul. How do you do this? You make yourself stand out. Show an attractive quality like ingenuity, dedication, honor, will power, or some other quality that will appeal to the Lord of Darkness. But remember: attracting Satan’s attention does not mean going around massacring people, raping women, or hurting children or animals (Satan loves animals). If you do anything like that your soul would be lost anyway. And there’s no way Satan would parley with you. No. You have to attract Satan’s attention by being a unique individual. Somebody that thinks for themselves and does not follow the herd. And even that may not be enough. That said, there is a powerful solution for attracting the infernal gaze of the Dark Lord. Top notch sorcerers and those on arcane Hoodoo paths have long known the art of gaining 114

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the attention and help of Satan. And they know the intricacies and subtleties of making a pact with the Devil at the crossroads or in a lonely graveyard. Such people know how to make and collect the required artifacts needed for what is known as the Satan Attractor Formula, a powerful servitor and automaton that will draw the attention of Satan. But even the Satan Attractor Formula doesn’t guarantee that the Devil will pop up to you. But it will attract his attention. The Satan Attractor Formula takes a good deal of time and money to properly prepare. But for anybody truly wishing to trade their soul to Satan, and is willing to take the lonely walk to the crossroads to meet with the Devil, then the Satan Attractor Formula is a must. But it should be borne in mind that the Devil’s pact is far more complex than it appears on the surface, and goes way beyond the notions posited in popular religious fantasies. The way I do it is like this: I perform the diabolic ritual for the Satan Attractor Formula at the witching hour in the wild, bleak countryside not far from me. Standing at a lonely crossroads, I call down the mighty infernal spirits. Deep swamp black heart blues howls from my old resonator guitar, plugged through a Vox battery amp, as I whirl in a possession trance chanting the diabolic words that the spirits have given me–primal utterances in unknown tongues – to charge the mighty Satan Attractor with power–turning it into an artifact of unstoppable force that will flag up Satan’s attention for anybody that wants to do so.

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PA RT III - DE MONS A N D A NCES TOR S Dealing with the Devil doesn’t always have to involve relinquishing your immortal soul. Conjure workers tend to see Satan as a brother and helper, and deal with him in the many forms he presents himself, including the mysterious entity known as the “graveyard snake.”

Indeed, my Hoodoo mentor Earl Marlowe always said that the most powerful place to cast your spells was the graveyard, and that the key “invisible” involved in graveyard work was the graveyard snake.

I recall one time, Earl went into great detail about this ominous entity. We were walking along the River Thames on London’s southbank. It was a glorious summer’s day back in the 1980s. The snaking waters seemed to glisten as we talked. Earl lit up a stogie and puffed on it as he outlined the mysteries of the graveyard snake.

“When you do a working in the cemetery,” he said, “you have to make it your business to become acquainted with the graveyard snake. If you don’t, not only will yo’ spells not work, or be very weak, but your very life and soul could be put in terrible jeopardy. That old snake will spot a greenhorn a mile off. On a good day, when he’s only feeling mischievous, not malicious, he’ll show the greenhorn a vision of hell. On a bad day, he’ll take that greenhorn to hell.” Earl handed me the stogie, “Man, that’s some wicked chronic.”

After puffing on it a while, I asked Earl what the graveyard snake looked like.

“That reptile is one mean and scary creature with its black with yellow splotches, and slithering with mean intent,” he said. “It lives in the boneyard where it weeps and moans.” After walking further along the Thames, we sat down on a bench and Earl told me about the origins of the graveyard snake.

“The graveyard snake came about this way,” he explained. “Long, long time ago the Devil was busy tempting Adam and Eve. He’d taken on the form of a serpent. When he succeeded in 116

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tempting them, he laughed so much, he split his-self in two - into a spirit part and a material part. The spirit part of him goes about the world tempting folks, but also helping out conjure doctors. While the material part lives down in the graveyard.”

Earl stared at the rippling waters of the Thames for a while, then added: “You can contact the spirit part through the material part. That’s what we do in graveyard work. It’s the secret of the Hoodoo doctors. You see, the graveyard snake is Ole Satan himself and he can help you in the black art. That’s coz he’s a master of the black art.” Earl then laid down how you go about conjuring up the graveyard snake.

“To call up the graveyard snake you need to sew up a piece of silver in a small piece of red flannel,” he said. “Wear it over your heart. Then say a verse from the Holy Bible backwards at 12 midnite in the boneyard on a moonlit night. Within a short time Old Nick will come and meet you.”

Earl was also big on calling up the ancestors. But he wasn’t big on ancestral worship. Earl never worshipped any damn thing. He never held with the idea of “higher powers,” be it gods, spirits or ancestors. To him creation was creation and everything in it was on a level footing and followed natural law.

“We are all equal,” he used to say. “But most of us spend our time trying to prove to others that we are better than them. Either that, or we worship the mystery gods, the illusionists, putting them on a pedestal and pretending we gotta hotline to ’em. But the stabilized man don’t go with that. He goes with the ebb and flow and is never swayed by the breeze. And he don’t look up to no invisibles. Far as he’s concerned, they’re just like you and me. All the foibles. They can be good, bad or just plain ugly.”

So when it came to the ancestors, Earl approached them on a human level. “Yeah, the citizens of Dead City can help us, I ain’t denying that, but you gotta remember they still have their human traits. They’re as tricky as they were in life...if not more so.” This point was picked up recently by my conjure brother Professor Crow (his Voodoo master knew my Voodoo mentor Earl Marlowe, they were part of the same circle). We were in our favorite London cafe, Jerk City on Wardour Street, which serves up the best Caribbean cuisine in town. The conversation turn to the ancestors. The Prof said that people talk about how Hoodoo 117

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(and all the spiritual traditions out of Africa) have ancestor worship at their core. “What they forget,” he said, “is that these spirits were once your kin. That means they gonna be difficult, downright mean, hard-hearted, contrary, cantankerous, argumentative, and just plain stubborn.” He paused for a moment to take a swig from his bottle of Supermalt, then added: “Think about it, your uncle Jack never helped you by giving you a job in life. So why in hell is he suddenly gonna turn nicer just coz he’s an ancestor spirit?! And that old auntie never approved of a girl you fancied. So why you think she’s gonna play Cupid now?! Hell, these spirits were your family. But that don’t mean they were nice or kind - or that they’ll love you from beyond the grave.” At that point, one of the local characters, Alligator Man, came over to us. He’d been listening in to our conversation from a nearby table. “I tell you, when I’m dead and gone, I’m gonna be the meanest, most baaaadddd ass motherfucker in the boneyard! I ain’t gonna help nobody!” “You always where public spirited, Alligator,” I said. The Prof then moved on to calling up the ancestors. He recommended hard liquor, saying “It always entices both the gentlemen and lady spirits.” But he warned that you need to ensure you give them good stuff. “Cheap liquor don’t go down well,” he said. Because the ancestor spirits are not necessarily any nicer in death than they were in life, he warned that you’ve got to be very cunning and wily - and above all careful - when dealing with them. “They could try to trick you into settling their old scores, or just be mischievous. And if you’ve seriously pissed them, then vengeance ain’t beyond the impossible. I’ve heard terrifying cases of possession.” The Prof strongly recommended that people do their research and take precautions. “I don’t mean all that pentagram banishing crap. I mean soul houses and spirit traps, hardcore Hoodoo from the bunker, if you know what I’m sayin’.” Above all else, the Prof urged people to follow the advice his first master gave him: “Never, laddie, listen to the voices...” With that, we both headed across London to pick up our respective trains home. I hit Kings Cross and took the line up to Cambridge and onwards to my home on the Eastside of Paradise. 118

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As the train roared through the flatlands of the Fens, the sun slowly set and dusk engulfed the landscape. In the distance I could just make out a village church. Floating around its spire were some strange, unearthly bright orange orbs. It could have been a trick of the light... or maybe it was the ancient light bodies of our primal ancestors dancing on the weave of fate...

T he Seven Obsidian K ings

One of my earliest memories is waking up in my cot and becoming aware of tall, shadowy figures all around me—I must have been around three-years-old—and I was terrified. I cried out for my mum. They went away – but they never left completely…

During the day I can also remember being aware of “entities” rather like faery people of Celtic folklore. These didn’t scare me. Then, when I was about four we moved to a village called Stewkley in Buckinghamshire. We had a nice bungalow with about an acre of ground so I had plenty of room to explore and play in and recall seeing these faery-like entities again. I also saw silver discs, or UFOs, in the sky. When I told my parents what I saw my mum said she also saw the UFOs and other apparitions so I could talk to her about them. She was kind of Christian, but she didn’t care for the organization of the church—her faith was more personal and spiritual. She also loved our land, England—the land of Albion—and gained much from the landscape and nature. She used to take me with her to visit a friend of hers fairly regularly. This was Mrs Crosthwaite. She read the tea leaves, and my mum would go for a reading—while I was bored to tears! Anyway, it was more my mum who I could talk to about esoteric stuff as I was growing up. We had long discussions about many things related to spirituality. 119

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My dad didn’t really comment much. He just sort of accepted that the world isn’t what it seems on the surface. He liked telling stories about weird stuff he’d come across and his phenomenal luck which got him through a lot of heavy action during World War Two. Dad used to visit his friend from the war Jack Thacker (he was much more interesting than listening to Mrs Crosthwaite read tea leaves for my mum) They used to talk about the war and all adventures and the lucky escapes they had. Dad and Jack had met in Algeria in 1942 during North Africa campaign of the second world war. Dad was in the Suffolk Regiment, even though he was from Norfolk—being the contrarian that he was. (Dad had actually enlisted in 1932 because of the shortage of work during the great depression, so when war broke out he was well-prepared.) He was a tank commander with the 7th Armoured Division and on close terms with the commanding officer General Archibald Wavell who had personally selected him for special operations. Jack was a member of the Long Range Desert Group—a heroic and ingenious British special forces unit. When I was seven or eight my dad brought home some of Erich Von Daniken’s books (Chariots of the Gods being the famous one.) These were all about alien contact with Earth, and argued that the “fiery wheels” in the Bible and so on were actually spacecraft flown by advanced civilizations making contact with Earth. I was fascinated with this and it fitted my rebellious nature as I could tell the religious education teachers at school that the Bible was all about alien contact. To be fair, the headmaster at my primary school was a remarkable man. He’d been through a Japanese prisoner of war camp in the second world war, and had a profound interest in folklore—it was from him I learned all about Norse, Saxon and Celtic mythology, our heritage. So I had an early introduction to the old gods of England and Northern Europe, and since then have felt a strong kinship with Odin/Woden, Thor/Thunor, Freya and Frey, et al. And also with the Anglo-Saxon concept of “wyrd” or fate - this is destiny of happening. (The word wyrd is the root of the word weird.) Growing up in Stewkley, for me the very land was alive, teeming with the spirits of yore. As I walked the countryside, Odin was with me, as was Thor and the other gods of our ancestors. 12 0

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As I got older, I discovered books on the occult and Eastern mysticism and lapped it all up. Then, when I was about 13, we moved a village called Ravensthorpe. I liked the name. It reminded me of the two ravens that belonged to Odin. I didn’t like the bungalow. I sensed a presence that reminded me of those shadowy figures from my childhood. I read in books of the occult what these might be and how to protect myself from their influence so I had a reason to buy and read these books beyond just curiosity. I’d built up such a collection of books on all aspects the occult and mysterious that I was always intrigued when I discovered something new.

On one visit to see Jack Thacker with my dad I remember Jack told a story of how he had found an old magickal book in the desert during the war. Apparently he discovered this mysterious ancient text after a sandstorm had revealed an ancient city. It had been left on the altar of a temple inside this old ruin.

It was written in early Arabic and was made up of spells and incantations designed to unleash archiac forces of nature! It sounded a bit too much to be real to me, but both Jack and my dad believed that the reason they were so lucky was down to this old book.

Even though I didn’t fully believe them I never forgot the name of the book - It was called The Grimoire of the Seven Obsidian Kings. Despite the fact that I was such an avid reader (or, perhaps, because of it, given what I was reading) I left school at the age of 16 with no qualifications whatsoever. When my dad took me to a careers advisor we were told that he could see no hope for me!

That was not the news my dad wanted to hear.

But then the advisor said, “Wait a minute. I’ve got the only job you can do, and you’ll fit in nicely.” It was a job at J. S. Billingham’s antiquarian bookshop in Northampton. It was perfect.

The Billinghams bookshop had been around since 1878 and was considered a local treasure— the best second-hand bookshop in Northampton. I learned the trade of the book dealer from the owner. Within a year I’d got thousands of books in my personal collection. 121

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Then I discovered British mystic and magician Aleister Crowley (once dubbed the “wickedest man in the world” by the Daily Express). This was actually a result of me being a fan of Led Zeppelin—I learned to play guitar from listening continually to them and learning Jimmy Page’s riffs and solos. It turned out that Jimmy was an expert on Crowley and has a big collection of his material. In fact, Jimmy would appear in Billingham’s on the hunt for esoteric books. He ran his own esoteric bookshop and publishing company in Kensington, London called The Equinox in the early 1970s. When I moved to London at the age of 18 I used to visit the shop regularly. Then at 19 I met Earl and began the adventures I’ve recounted in this book. It was not long after my dad died in 2007 that I received an unexpected phone call. When an old man’s voice asked “Is that Jimmy?” it sounded like my dad. However, it wasn’t a call from the spirit world – it was an old friend of his from the war – Jack Thacker. I remembered Jack from my childhood visits but my dad was 97 when he died so I was surprised to hear from one of his friends. “I have something for you,” he said. I figured it was something of Dad’s. “Do you remember the book I told you about that I found in the war?” “The Grimoire,” I said. “Yeah. I kinda thought you and dad were making that up.” “You were too young to really understand how powerful it might be,” he said. “How would you like to actually see it?” After a 32-year wait, even though it was 10 o’clock at night and an 80-mile trip to get to Jack, I didn’t hesitate to jump on my motorcycle and head out to his place. When I finally got down to Jack’s cottage he was waiting outside the door. He’d heard my bike, with it’s straight-through pipes, as it roared into his drive. “Come on in,” he said. “I knew you wouldn’t want to wait till the morning.” 122

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After fixing me a coffee with a capful of rum in it, Jack said, “I know you’ve always been curious about the Grimoire of the Seven Obsidian Kings. I couldn’t blame you after the stories your dad and I told you. But although the book did certainly bring great luck to all who handled it, it’s not something you can take lightly. Having greater luck than that alloted to the average person comes at a price. The denizens of the atavistic realm, which the grimoire shows you how to access, are not kind and feel nothing for humanity. “If an ordinary Joe gained access to the grimoire, they would slowly be drained of their very life energy, and be left an empty shell. In many ways the grimoire gives you access to a force of nature, and nature is not kind. “The arcane glyphs, symbols and incantations in it could be seen as similar to computer code that allows you to unlock tremendous forces and powers contained at the very heart of creation. “But the Bible can be seen like that too, although most of it has become corrupted and somewhat confused with the array of interpretations. But at its root, the Bible was like a binary code for the forces behind existence itself… and the idea that God ‘loves’ you is fallacious. ‘Love’ was merely a description of the positive force emitted from the divine being, while the so-called ‘Devil’ emitted a negative polarity. Neither had any relation to what we know as good and evil. “It’s the same with the Grimoire of the Seven Obsidian Kings. It provides a blueprint for the powers and forces behind creation itself. Although certain parts of it made little sense and couldn’t be adequately translated, we did grasp the enormity of what the grimoire contains. And it is not something to pass on lightly. But now that your dad’s gone, and I am unlikely to be far behind him on the great voyage, I feel that the Grimoire of the Seven Obsidian Kings should be passed on to you for safekeeping. You should be its custodian.” With that Jack went to his locked bureau, and pulled out the grimoire. Size was foolscap, bound in calf-skin, tatty, inlaid gold-leaf sigils and glyphs on the covers. He handed it to me, and I simply held it and stared at it. For so many years I’d waited for this moment, to actually have the grimoire in my hands. 123

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As I began leafing through the grimoire, I felt a strange headiness, almost as if I was being drawn into another dimension. The arcane symbols and weird pen and ink drawings seemed to come alive. But equally the grimoire held a foreboding, a palpable inhuman-ness. “You see those drawings,” said Jack. “They were the statues in the temple.” “So it was true then. How you found it.” “We might have made it into a bit more of a story-but yes.” Jack also gave me the accompanying translation, “You’re the only person I feel safe passing it on to,” he said. “And I guess now you’ll want to get going.” With that we said our goodbyes. As I gunned my custom v-twin motorcycle to life, and headed home to Norwich in Norfolk, my mind was racing. By the time I got home, the late-night round-trip and revelation had taken its toll. As much as I wanted to start reading the Grimoire I just fell asleep with it in my hand. Over the new few days I did nothing but pour over the original manuscript and the accompanying translation. The translation was only partial as some of the language just couldn’t be decyphered. Strange terms like “Zyphon” and “Xura” clearly held meaning, but this was lost in the mists of time. Either that, or you were supposed to be disorientated and the idea was for the terminology to seep into your unconscious mind, and the primal elements of your reptilian brain would make its own sense of it… and possibly this was what changed you and brought the uncanny luck – a keying into the pre-human primal pit. Part of me – the conscious rational self – just thought “it’s a very old book and that’s it, just a load of superstitious ramblings...” But at the same time I felt a terrible repulsion towards it. The glyphs and strange drawings of spirits and creatures seemed to seep into my subconscious. It was as if the very pen and ink scrawls left the page and edged into my soul. 12 4

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As I read the manuscript, I’d suddenly get the feeling someone or something was in the room with me. I’d jump round. It was if a shadow was there, but it disappeared. Was it just my imagination? Or was it real? The feeling of strangeness that would come over me was real enough.

When I realised I needed to take a break I rode down to Norwich market to the mushy peas stall for a cup of tea. I needed to get out in the bright sunshine and chat to my biker pals about ordinary things.

As the conversation went on, I looked around and could swear I saw a long-bearded Arabiclooking fellow staring at me with piercing eyes. And the next second he was gone. I’d go and have a look around, but no sign of him.

I started to have odd dreams where I’d meet characters I wouldn’t normally come across in waking life. For example, one recurring dream would be of me out on my motorcycle riding around the old Norfolk coast road, and I’d head down a lane through some woods taking me out into the middle of nowhere. And then I’d come to a ironwork gate that led to a large house. At the gate was an old man in tweeds, grey hair and beard, beckoning me. He opened the gates and I rode down to the big house. Taking off my helmet and gloves I would see a patrician woman with blonde hair in her thirties at the door smiling and saying “We’ve been expecting you...”

I’d go into the house and the woman would usher me into the library. Sitting on a leather-upholstered settee was a stately-looking gentleman in his sixties. Gesturing for me to sit down, he said his name was Raoul Millbrook. He added that “We’ve been watching you. And we are guiding you onto a new path in life. Soon you will embark upon a journey into realms few experience on the human plane. But beware, its denizens are not to be trifled with.”

With that the dream usually ended. Or else I would find myself back on my motorcycle heading back onto the coast road.

None of this should have bothered me as I’d seen some wild and scary things during my time with Earl Marlowe, but I’d taken most of it with a pinch of salt. I hadn’t let it bother me. But this was starting to get scary. Despite the fact that I had read everything about magic and the occult that I could get my hands on over the years, as well as practising various magick rituals and all that I had learned from Earl, the Grimoire changed everything I had thought about magick.

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The sorcery in the Grimoire is nothing like that found in spellbooks, magic cookbooks, on the internet, in witches’ coven, occult orders or even in hardcore sorcery circles.

It read like an extension of the works of Aleister Crowley and medieval grimoires, although the closest connection I could find was apparent in a much deeper reading of the works of Carlos Casteneda. Take just one section in The Grimoire, a quarter of the way through. It talks about beings that walk in the shadows of our world. Beings that lurk of the periphery of our dreams. Beings that live in the twilight places. Some of these being take on human-like appearances and are able to enter our world, others keep their primordial reptilian and bestial appearance.

According to the Grimoire of the Seven Obsidian Kings, if we are unfortunate enough to become aware of these primordial reptilian beings, we would dearly pray they did not exist. For these beings can reach out from the darkness - the very abyss - to touch us with icy, lifeless hands, and with malign intent. The Grimoire of the Seven Obsidian Kings talks of these malevolent beings as predators that look for moments of human weakness...when they see it, they pounce and ensnare the unwary.

Some of these creatures feed on human life energy, others feast on fear - on the primal terror we feel when confronted with something truly alien and not of this world - something ungodly and unwholesome. These beings watch us. They hunger for what we have. They hunger for our very souls.

So, dear reader, beware of the shadows - for there lie terrible inhuman creatures with a demented lust to feast on your soul…

Stay in the sunlight. Don’t step into the shadows. Otherwise some terrible thing from the primal slime, the eternal, oppressive darkness may reach out and grab an arm or a leg, and drag you into its stale, stagnant and sulphurous world...to be forever damned in the murky, crepuscular gloom. Take care, for those lightless, loveless lands are always only a step away... according to the Grimoire of the Seven Obsidian Kings, anyway. 12 6

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On the upside, many things would fall into place. If I needed some hard-to-find parts for my motorcycle, next thing I know some biker guy I came across on the market would have them. And when I wanted a low cost old bike to “rat” into a chopper, next thing I know someone puts me onto one for next-to-no-money.

The grimoire somehow put me into the very flow of nature. So when you willed something, events seemed to slip into place. Like I was drawn to what I needed to get a thing done. Very much like I was in alignment with the anglo-saxon concept of wyrd.

As custodian of the Grimoire of the Seven Obsidian Kings I have taken it upon myself to experiment with some of the sorcery contained in the book. One of the terrible formulas outlined how to safely travel in spirit form to the realms of eternal darkness where those creatures of the damned reside. I plucked up my courage, and dispensing warding protective formulas as I went, I stepped from the light into the shadows, and entered the world of eternal gloom where the hellish creatures reside.

While in the lightless realm, I encountered and conversed with one of its baleful denizens. The creature was semi-human in appearance - or had made itself that way on seeing me coming. It had taken on the guise of a man in his forties with slicked-hair and wearing a kind of Victorian frock coat.

He (or it) called himself Samuel Charteris, and he had a terrible greenish pallor, claw-like hands, and fearsome unblinking eyes, like a reptile. I couldn’t help thinking of Jack the Ripper. And began to wonder if that particularly malicious Victorian serial killer may have had its origins in this infernal world and was not of the earth. While in spirit form, I conversed with this terrible creature that had the appearance of a man, calling himself Samuel Charteris. On my return from that inhuman realm I wrote down the gist of what the creature said to me. This is my transcription:

“I am Samuel Charteris. Or rather that is the name I’m using for now, at least. You won’t have heard of me, not unless you have a relative with the second sight, or with mental illness, or perhaps an uncle who took far too much LSD in the 1960s and was still having flashbacks into the Reagan years. They might have caught a glimpse of me. 127

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But no, mostly you won’t have seen or heard of me. To you, I don’t exist. And believe me, if you did know of my existence, you’d wish I didn’t exist. You’d implore the particular god you worship to remove me from creation. You see, I haunt the night in the city. I walk between the shadows, watching, always watching. Sometimes I see somebody that stands out. Somebody that makes an impression. And I open the gate and lure them into the shadow light…. Yes, that’s me, waiting and watching in the dark crevices of the city. Watching. Always watching. It’s all too easy. I watch the night time revellers go in and out of bars. Laughing and talking, oblivious to my presence and malign intent. Then there are the city workers, leaving late, weary and keen to return home. They don’t see me either. But I see them. I watch their every move from my in-between place in the shadows. Nobody knows I’m there. But I am. If you stand out from the crowd, I might beckon you saying “Don’t be afraid... I can make all your dreams and desires come true...” and will lead you into the shadow light. Will you come? Maybe. Maybe not. All I can say is, the wise enlightened souls keep to the neon light of the city. Wary of a particular kind of night shadow, they sense the lurking darkness. They sense the the unnatural shadows - the ones that emanate a deep all-pervasive obsidian gloom, the shadows that the neon light cannot penetrate - and they avoid them. They know not to step into the dark shadows. Those with closed consciousness, on the other hand, the everyday droogs with little self-awareness, merrily walk into the mirky shadows, oblivious to the terrible, inhuman watchers than await them...and beckon them...offering them the fulfilment of their tiny little dreams... offering them fame and fortune, offering them wealth for the taking, offering them every possible sensual desire they crave...offering them anything they want… And I have them! My icy claw hand gripping them and drawing them into my hellish lair to satisfy my hunger for their very soul... But before I consume, I welcome them to my crepuscular world... Oh, it’s all too easy...” 12 8

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That was my transcription of the sinister encounter I had in the lightless realm, described by the Grimoire of the Seven Obsidian Kings. It took me days to get over that encounter so it’s not something I plan on repeating any time soon. Apart from anything else, I’m not sure what there is to be gained...although the Grimoire of the Seven Obsidian Kings does seem to map out a method of safely tapping the power from the realm of never-ending darkness.

Demon Biker

Scary strangeness can creep up on you at anytime, and in any place. Like when a demon biker appears beside you on the lonesome highway, you know you are in for a wild ride. You know nothing is what it seems and that the everyday world is melting away—a least for a time. But this is par for the course on the far edge of Voodoo. You ride with the Devil and you give the Devil his due.

It was under the tutelage of Voodoo man Earl Marlowe when I first encountered the demon biker known as Johnny Redstone. Earl said: “You meet Johnny Redstone in the graveyard at midnight at the time of the shadow moon.” He said that Johnny resided at the Black Lodge on the far western reaches of the etheric plane—the realm of nothingness that can be accessed by controlled dreaming and trance. “When you in the boneyard and you done the right conjuration,” said Earl, “the strange hellbirds fly and the black animals come out of their lairs.” Out of this macabre menagerie walks Johnny Redstone. According to Earl, conjurers (Voodoo workers) perceive Johnny Redstone through a swirling cloud of smoke. Johnny has the look of a biker - leathers, tattoos, and outlaw cool. This is because he was once human—a fierce, savage (yet full of instinctive intelligence) motorcycle club member from the U.S. west coast who got shot up over a drugs’ beef in the early 1970s. 129

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After his death, Johnny became a demonic entity due to the fact that, in life, he had become adept at travelling the etheric plane. He first had out-of-body experiences using peyote and other psychotropic plants. But eventually learned to do it at will without the need for mind-altering substances. Just before he died of gunshot wounds, Johnny put his ebbing life energy into leaving his body before he died. This is how he became a denizen of the etheric plane, a demonic entity living between this world and separate reality. The reason Earl knew about Johnny was the two had been good friends. During the 1960s, Earl, who was originally from Trinidad, was serving in the merchant navy. So was Johnny. The two became fast friends. And when they left the merchant navy, they would ride together. Johnny on a Harley, Earl on a Triumph. After Johnny was killed in the early 70s, Earl had suspicions that Johnny had left his body before dying and set about contacting Johnny on the etheric plane. Earl told me: “Johnny became a helper in my conjure work. I’d go to the graveyard and work the Midnite Mojo and Johnny would appear. It was like he’d never been gone.” And I have to say, when I’m out riding my motorcycle on a dark night I sometimes catch a glimpse of a ghostly rider coming up alongside me with a wicked and wild smile on his face...

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CH A P TER FIV E

HEALING HOODOO

Afro-American folk medicine divides illnesses into three categories: those that are natural in origin, those caused by occult powers, and those that are spiritual in origin. As my voodoo mentor Earl Marlowe used to say: “The sawbones get their fancy education, but they don’t know nothing. They works on the physical plane, an’ that’s all. That’s OK if you broke your arm or got a dose of o’ the clap or the common cold. But them medical doctors, they stumped if there don’t seem to be a cause for the malaise. They see the symptoms but don’t have a first clue what’s behind it, and there’s fuck all they can do. And the patient just have to live with it. Sometimes they just plain peg out and die. But the conjure man or woman, they knows what to do and they puts things right. That’s cause they work on the spiritual plane. But they also knows how to work on the physical plane and how to use herbals and plants to cure sickness and any common complaint you cares to name.” The first group we will look at here are natural illnesses. 131

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N AT U R A L ILLN ESES

Natural illnesses are brought about by viruses, bacteria, the weather, cold air, damp and similar natural forces. These illnesses are cured with roots, herbs, barks, flowers and teas. All conjure workers are skilled in the use of therapeutic substances such as these. Indeed, herbal remedies have always played an integral role in the treatment of disease. In the past, of course, this was because orthodox medical treatment simply was not available to Afro-Americans; but even today traditional medicine is regularly used by those who do not trust conventional doctors and consider traditional remedies to be more effective. Many people involved in the practice of New World religions and magic hold this view.

In general, natural illnesses can be cured without the use of magic. Although, I would always recommend reciting a simple incantation over your preparation before you consume it or administer it to a patient. It would take a whole book to describe all the herbal remedies I use to treat my family, my clients and myself, but here are just a few which I use against common ailments.

Cough and Cold Remedy

To cure coughs, colds and other respiratory ailments, eat a whole raw clove of garlic four to five times a day. To make it slightly more palatable, grind the clove into a pulp in a pestle and mortar, then scoop it up on a spoon and swallow it. It must be admitted that this treatment is thoroughly unpleasant; but it will get rid of coughs and colds very quickly, often within 12-18 hours.

Obviously, you have to be prepared for the fact that your breath, and indeed your whole body, will reek of garlic. But once you are well again, and have had a bath and brushed your teeth, the smell will have gone.

Pomeg ranate Tonic

An excellent tonic, well known in the American south, is made up with the following ingredients: ¸¸ 2 pints (1 litre) of wine ¸¸ 3 pinches of raw rice 132

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¸¸ 1 heaped teaspoon of cinnamon ¸¸ 5 small pieces (about the size of a fingernail) of the hull of a pomegranate ¸¸ 5 tablespoons of sugar

❂❂ Put all the ingredients in a pan and let it slowly come to the boil. ❂❂ Take it off the heat, leave for half-an-hour to set, then strain. ❂❂ Take one tablespoon a day. ❂❂ This should keep for 3 to 4 days in the fridge. When pomegranate is in season, it is well worth gathering all the hulls you can for use at other times of the year.

Ma r igold Tonic Another excellent tonic is made from an infusion of marigold, rosemary and sundew (Drosera rotundifolia). The effect is much enhanced by the addition of rockrose (Helianthemum), a plant noted for its antidepressant qualities. It suits all age groups, including young infants. ¸¸ 1/2 quart (1 pint or 1/2 litre) of boiling water ¸¸ 1 oz (30 g) of dried herbs (or three handfuls of fresh herbs)

❂❂ Pour the boiling water over the herbs ❂❂ cover, then leave for 24 hours. ❂❂ Finally, strain the mixture into a bottle (if stored in a refrigerator, it will keep fresh for up to 4 days) ❂❂ Drink 3 wine-glassfuls daily. 133

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Doctor Ya h Ya h’s Violet Cha r m

Violets were said, by nineteenth century New Orleans Voodooist, Doctor Yah Yah, to be an excellent aid for avoiding or overcoming any illness or disease. He believed that these pretty purple flowers give off powerful healing vibrations. To gain the benefit of these vibrations, place some violets in a red flannel bag, tie the top shut, attach a cotton string and wear the bag around your neck for protection. Change the flowers in the bag every seven weeks. For even more potency, sprinkle some crushed violets in each corner of every room in your home.

Doctor Yah Yah violated the tradition that all Voodoo leaders were free, for he was a slave, whose real name was George Washington. His talents included fortune telling and healing.

His career came to a sudden end in 1861, however, when he was jailed for selling poison to an Italian fruit dealer, who had taken the potion to a chemist before accepting it as a cure for his rheumatism. Doctor Yah Yah’s master paid a fine to obtain his release and then shipped him off to end his days toiling as a field hand on a plantation.

To Ca lm the Ner ves

Drink a decoction of valerian root to quiet the nerves. Valerian has a relaxing and even euphoric effect on the system; its great value is that it calms the mind without having a narcotic effect. Its name is derived from the Latin “valeo”, meaning “I am well”. You will need the following to make up the decoction. ¸¸ 1/2 oz (15 g) of dried valerian root ¸¸ 1 pint (1/2 litre) of water

❂❂ Simmer the valerian root in the water for as long as it takes to reduce the water by half (usually some 20 minutes).

❂❂ The liquid should then be strained off into a bottle. It will keep for up to four days if kept in the refrigerator. ❂❂ Take one tablespoon of the mixture daily for one week, maybe two, but no more. 134

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Cats become frisky on smelling valerian root; they roll on their backs in apparent drug-like ecstasy, much as they do at the scent of the herb catnip. Horses too are known to like its scent, as are rats and mice (in fact, it was once used as a bait in traps). Humans, however, find the smell of valerian root abhorrent, often comparing it to the stench of sweaty socks!

Hea l-A ll Spell

You can also use conjure to cure natural illnesses. Here’s an all-round curative spell, which I’ve regularly made good use of with clients. It is simple to do and requires only a few items, as listed below. ¸¸ Dragon’s Blood Ink

¸¸ Healing Oil

¸¸ Voodoo doll

¸¸ 2 white candles

¸¸ Parchment paper

¸¸ White cloth

❂❂ First perform an opening ritual, cleansing your working area with holy water.

❂❂ Then, using Dragon’s Blood Ink, write the name of the person who needs healing on parchment paper.

❂❂ Now anoint the doll with Healing Oil, placing a few drops on the area of the doll corresponding to where the sick person is affected (1)

❂❂ Then recite the following incantation to gain the help of the healing spirits: “Spirits of light, charge this doll, With the power to heal, the power to cure; So it will make [name] Fit and well and full of health”

When I do these kinds of chants, I don’t necessarily stick to specific words. Usually I drift off into an unintelligible rhythmic chant - known to Hoodoo doctors as the “unknown tongue”. I always keep the intent of the ritual focused clearly in my mind’s eye, but I relinquish conscious control of my voice. This allows my unconscious mind, the powerhouse within, to come to the 135

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fore and speak in whatever way it chooses. Usually what comes out is completely abstract and incomprehensible to human ears, but is fully understood by the spirits; for it is their language the tongue of angels, demons and fairies. ❂❂ Once you have finished your chant, wrap the doll and parchment paper in the white cloth and place between the two white candles (2).

❂❂ Burn the candles each morning (replacing them as necessary) until the patient has made a full recovery.

At that point, you can dispose of the doll. You should also make a point of thanking the spirits for their help. You could leave them an offering of some kind fruit, herbs, liquor, milk or whatever seems appropriate (use your intuition in this matter).

Hea ling Power of Santer ia

All priests and priestesses of Santeria (known respectively as “santeros” and “santeras”) are herbalists, and some possess a truly profound knowledge of the medicinal qualities of plants. Anyone even peripherally involved with Santeria knows about or will have heard of a seemingly miraculous cure effected by a Santero or santera after conventional medical science had given up. Santeria, however, does not reject science; a santera or Santero will sometimes recommend seeing a doctor for an operation or other conventional treatment, first preparing the patient with a magical herbal infusion, known as “omiero”. Sometimes, however, a Santeria cure can make major interventions like surgery unnecessary.

For example, while hosting a radio talk show in 1984, Santero and writer Raul Canizares, suddenly lost his voice; talking became excruciatingly painful.

“A throat specialist told me I needed an emergency operation,” he recalls in his book Cuban Santeria, “but my mother (a priestess of Santeria) made an infusion of some common weeds she called “romerillo”. After gargling with the infusion for a few days, my voice was back to normal.”

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OCC U LT ILLN ESSES

The individual suffering from an illness caused by occult powers has been cursed or hexed. They will frequently exhibit both behavioural and physical symptoms; perhaps behaving in an odd, eccentric or even “insane” manner, as well as complaining of stomach or head pains. However, a hex need not result in physical symptoms. It may produce a run of bad luck, loss of a job or a strong desire to leave town. A person who has been hexed or cursed will not recover fully until the spell has been removed by a Hoodoo worker or conjuror. Illnesses caused by occult powers can be tricky to deal with. But, with a little ingenuity, most can usually be sorted out: as the following story involving Ed McTeer, High Sheriff of Beaufort County, South Carolina, from 1926-63, reveals. Besides being a white law enforcer, Ed McTeer was also a witch doctor. He had studied Hoodoo and African religion back in the late 1920s, in order to learn the ways of the local Afro-Americans, whom he regularly came into contact with during the course of his work. The following is one of his first conjure-related cases: Ed was told by a prominent Beaufort farmer, Hal R. Pollitzer, that a middle-aged woman living near his farm who was convinced that a root (ruse) had been put on her. Several things had gone wrong in a short period, and she took these to be signs of a spell against her. She was now lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and refusing to talk or eat. Hal suggested that McTeer arrest the root doctor who was responsible, but McTeer pointed out that they couldn’t be sure that a root was involved. The poor woman could even have “hexed” herself in trying to find a good explanation for her collection of woes. In the end, McTeer agreed to go to the woman’s house to see if he could be of assistance. When they arrived, they found the emaciated woman lying motionless in bed and staring at the ceiling. It was clear that something had to be done quickly, so McTeer launched into his conjure spiel. 137

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“Someone has put a strong root on this woman, Hal,” he said, standing at the foot of her bed. “I can feel it all around me! Hal, this woman can be saved, but only if you’re willing to spend a large sum of money. This spell is too strong for me to handle alone; I’ll have to hire Dr Hawk to help me find the root!” “I don’t care what it costs,” Hal answered seeing that McTeer was getting through to the sick woman. “Hire Dr Hawk!” The reason McTeer chose Dr Hawk was that the woman believed her root had been put on by Dr Buzzard, and “Hawk” sounded a fierce opponent to “Buzzard”.

That night McTeer visited Dr Hawk. When he had explained the situation, Dr Hawk said that he’d help, and began to prepare a “red root”. When it was finished, the two drove out to the woman’s house at night and Dr Hawk buried the root at the foot of her front steps. The two then drove back to town.

The next morning McTeer picked up Dr Hawk and they drove out to the house to find a large crowd assembled outside to watch the “doctors” at work. Even the sick woman had been wheeled, bed and all, to the open doorway. As they’d prearranged, Dr Hawk stayed in the car, staring straight ahead, and McTeer walked towards the porch, where he began his act.

“Some terrible person has put a death root on this good woman, and Mr Pollitzer has given me a large sum of money to hire Dr Hawk so that we can find the root and destroy it. Dr Hawk stayed up all night in the graveyard talking with the spirits, and he tells me that now he’s ready to save this woman.”

With that, McTeer marched over to the car door and pulled it open. Dr Hawk stepped out and, rising to his full height, roared, “Stand back! Stand clear of this house or you will all be sick!”

The crowd fell back. And as soon as they had cleared his way, Dr Hawk pulled out a knife and cut a long switch off a nearby tree. Bending it back and forth like a spring, he began to talk in the “unknown tongue”.

He walked up and down with his diving-root switch and, the moment he saw the sick woman rise up to get a better look, he let his voice reach a crescendo, and the switch flew from his hand to point at the exact spot where the red root had been planted the night before.

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Dr Hawk went down on his knees, digging furiously. He found the root, tore it from its hiding place and held it over his head. At this the sick woman sat bolt upright in bed, and the crowd broke and fled in all directions at once.

“Stand clear!” Dr Hawk roared. “This is a death root!” With that, he dashed off to the nearby river and threw the little red bundle far out into the water. When he returned he told the woman to sit up in bed, which she did with no trouble.

“Daughter, I have taken this terrible root off you,” he said. “I have killed it and now you will get well. Eat and get your strength back.”

When McTeer returned to the house the following week, he found that the woman had made a miraculous recovery: she was up and about, eating, cleaning and cooking as usual.

Had McTeer and Dr Hawk not intervened, however, it is likely she would have died—such was her belief in the power of Hoodoo.

Div ining a Hex

If there is any doubt whether or not a trick (hex) has been laid, American root doctors sometimes place a dime under the client’s tongue. If the client is under a spell of some kind, the dime turns black. I usually use a pendulum (known as a “jack ball”), to ascertain this. I made my own pendulum from a small piece of oak. I shaved off the bark, sanded it down and rubbed boiled linseed oil into it. Finally, I drilled a hole through the middle and threaded a leather cord through it. But a jack ball can also be simply a mojo bag - serious practitioners would fill the charm bag with herbs and roots appropriate to divining.

First sort out a “yes” and “no” code by asking the pendulum a question to which there can only be one answer. For instance, it is a bright summer’s day, I might simply ask, “Is the sun shining?” The pendulum will then begin to either oscillate to and fro or gyrate in a circle. Whichever response it makes, I take as the signal for “yes”. I then hold the pendulum over the client and ask whether his or her illness is caused by a trick (malevolent spell). If the answer is affirmative, and I feel sure the severity of the hex is 139

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minimal, I recommend they perform the following “uncrossing” spell. Readers, who believe they may be suffering from a hex-related illness or run of misfortune, may like to try it too.

Uncrossing Spell

You will need the following ingredients. ¸¸ Rosemary oil

¸¸ Uncrossing Bath

¸¸ Some rainwater

¸¸ Jinx Removing Bath

¸¸ Uncrossing Oil

¸¸ Uncrossing Powder

❂❂ First perform a standard opening ritual. ❂❂ Put 7 drops of rosemary oil in a glass of rainwater. ❂❂ Stir in 9 drops of Uncrossing Oil and blend thoroughly, repeating the chant below. “Break the hex, blast the root, Free my life from the evil curse.” ❂❂ Then place the mixture in a window for three days. ❂❂ On the fourth day, sprinkle the water in all corners of your home - making sure no one can see you doing it. ❂❂ Once you have done this, take a bath every day for seven consecutive days, adding 1 teaspoon of Uncrossing Bath and 1 teaspoon of Jinx Removing Bath to the water. When you have dried yourself off, rub Uncrossing Oil all over your body. As an extra measure, sprinkle a little Uncrossing Powder in your socks and shoes.

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SPIR I T UA L ILLN ESS

Illnesses caused by a combination of negative mental attitude and unbalanced lifestyle fall within the category of spiritual illnesses. Like the forces of the occult, spiritual sources can produce misfortune as well as physical illness. Thus, illness, poor family relations, lack of a job and bad luck frequently occurring together can result from spiritual poverty.

Illnesses that have a spiritual cause are best sorted out by either, laying on hands and channelling healing energy into the sufferer, or by performing a blessing ceremony.

When I lay on hands, I visualize white light streaming down from above into my head, flowing through my body and entering the patient through my hands. As I perform this, I go into a trance state and utter the unknown tongues which, in this instance, are used to enlist the help of the various healing spirits with whom I am in spiritual contact. My intuition tells me when the person has been healed. For the blessing ceremony, I first do an opening ritual to cleanse the working area of any unwanted psychic influences. Then I sprinkle the client with Holy Water and anoint their temples with Blessing Oil, while reciting a short prayer along the lines of the following chant: “Spirits of healing, bring blessings upon [name],

May wealth, health and good fortune be forever his/hers.” Readers following this basic outline should have little problem relieving cases of spiritual depletion, characterized by negative mental attitude and unbalanced lifestyle.

Addiction

Addictions are often the result of some kind of spiritual imbalance. But you first need to effect a swift cure of the symptoms before you can set about sorting out the spiritual causes that lie behind the addiction. To cure a drug addict, go to the grave of a deceased loved one of the addict and rap with your knuckles on the headstone. This will wake up the spirit. Holding the headstone, call out to the spirit to help the drug addict reform and to kill his or her desire for drugs. 141

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To cure an alcoholic, go to a graveyard with two pieces of board. Using a pointed instrument, mark out in the dirt or grass a grave for the alcoholic. Call out to the spirits to make the alcoholic stop drinking and, as you do so, use a mallet to pound one piece of board into the head of the mock grave and one at the foot. Pound vigorously and keep calling to the spirits. If you calls become incomprehensible, so much the better, as unknown tongues is the language the spirits understand. These spells were taught to me by my Hoodoo mentor, Earl Marlowe. They are interesting in that they reveal the tenacity of the original West African belief from which they are derived— namely that the spirits of ancestors can influence life in the temporal world.

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CH A P TER SI X

THE EVIL EYE

T H E GIR L W I T H T H E E V IL E Y E

One winter evening, back in the late 1980s, Earl Marlowe and I were discussing business over a beer in The King’s Head pub in Islington, north London, our regular drinking haunt. It was fairly busy with afterwork drinkers, some of whom gave us curious glances. We tended to attract attention as Earl often wore bright and colourful African robes, along with purple-tinted sunglasses, the badge of a Voodoo doctor. Then suddenly Earl put his glass of beer down on a mat. “See that girl over there,” he said, nodding in the direction of an attractive young blonde sitting in the corner of the bar with a group of friends. “What do you notice about her?” “Well, she’s very attractive, outgoing, popular,” I said. Earl shook his head. “That’s not what I mean,” he said. “What you haven’t noticed is that that girl has the evil eye.” 143

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“The evil eye?” “Yeah. The glance of doom. She doesn’t even know she’s got it, but she’ll bring bad luck or illness on anyone, soon as look at them.” With that Earl made a strange hand gesture in the general direction of the girl. The gesture involved sticking out the index and little fingers of his right hand, while bending back the second and third fingers against the palm, under the thumb. He made me follow suit. “That will avert any chance of the evil eye affecting us,” he explained. I was somewhat skeptical about all this. After all, the girl looked pleasant enough and was clearly popular. If she really brought bad luck to people, then surely she wouldn’t have any friends. I pointed this out to Earl. He responded by telling me that the nineteenth-century Pope Pius IX was reputed to have wielded the evil eye. “Like that girl over there, he had no idea of the power he had,” he said. “And he was well loved, despite the fact that everything he touched turned bad. He blessed the Italian campaign against Austria in 1848, and straight away they lost battles. He blessed a new column to the Madonna and its workmen; and that very day a workman fell from the scaffolding and died. And so on. Nobody blamed the Pope; it wasn’t his fault, but precautions against his gaze were necessary. When devout Catholics asked for blessing, they used to mutter a charm under their breath and do a hand sign, very much like you and I did just now. That way they deflected the blight of his eye.” I was still skeptical. “Do you really expect me to believe that people can bring bad luck or illness on others just by looking at them? I said. “I do,” said Earl. He then related an incident which occurred when he was in the merchant navy, some 30 years previously. “We were sailing around the coast of Madagascar, in the Indian Ocean,” he began. “From the moment we set out on that particular voyage, things just kept going wrong. Usually it was only minor things, but they all added up. Then things took a turn for the worse. We were struck by a severe storm; it came out of nowhere, no warning. One minute the skies were clear and 14 4

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the sea was calm, the next, wham - tremendous storm hit. And I’ll tell you, we were lucky to get out of that one alive. A few days afterwards, one of the men went overboard, during a dead calm. When we fished him out, he said he couldn’t understand what had happened. He said it felt like something had compelled him overboard.” Apparently he was never the same after this. He kept gibbering about there being an “evil influence” on board. Because of this, a couple of seamen asked Earl if he thought there might be some curse or jinx involved. He said it was a possibility and that he’d look into it. “I spent some time wandering around on deck,” he recalled. “And I noticed this seaman, a white guy. There was something about him; he had hypnotic eyes, kind of stared at people too long. One time I caught him staring at the captain of the ship. Not long afterwards the captain fell sick with a high fever. That clinched it for me; I knew the guy had the evil eye. But I was also sure that he was unaware of the power he wielded. He was a genuinely nice guy. But every time I went near him or spoke to him I’d do the two-horned hand gesture to avert any risk of the evil eye affecting me. In the end, the other seamen began to notice the way he stared at people and they started to blame him for the string of misfortunes. It got to the point where they were talking of throwing him overboard. I told them that it needn’t come to that and that I’d put things right. I then went down to my cabin and worked some serious conjure to put a stop to the curse of the evil eye—at least for as long as the voyage lasted.”

WOR L DW I DE BELIEF After leaving The King’s Head, I set about doing some research into the evil eye. Going through my extensive collection of reference books, I discovered that the power of the eye to cast a spell or curse is among the oldest and most common beliefs in the world. In ancient times it was thought that the eye exerted a beam and that evil-minded people could manipulate and intensify their eyebeams to wreak havoc and harm. References to the evil eye can be found in the annals of the ancient Sumerians, Egyptians and Babylonians, as well as in Greek and Roman mythology. The evil eye is even mentioned 145

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in the Bible. In the King James Version, the Book of Proverbs counsels, “Eat thou/though not bread of him that hath an evil eye... The morsel which thou hast eaten shalt thou vomit up.” The evil eye was particularly feared in Naples—even in the twentieth century—where people shunned the owner of the evil ye, called the “Jettatore”. Whenever he or she approached, the streets would clear of men, women and children.

In Greece, Turkey, India and China it was believed that the evil eye had the power to harm horses and cattle, while in Britain the evil eye was reckoned to be cast by farmers on their rivals to harm crops.

Though not as prevalent today as in the past, belief in the evil eye is still strong in many areas of the world, including parts of Asia, Northern Africa, Southern Europe and in all areas of the New World where Santeria, Voodoo or Hoodoo is practised. In Africa the evil eye is believed to be inherited; those born with it cannot remove it. Allegedly, it can cause abortion, make spears break, make rats eat the corn or sicken cows. As in other parts of the world, the only way to counteract the curse that can kill at a glance is by using charms and hand gestures.

The use of the evil eye (sometimes called “overlooking”) is most commonly thought to be motivated by envy. If you win the lottery or achieve success of one sort or another then, unbeknown to you, friends or neighbours could well exert the evil eye against you - despite themselves in many cases. Jealous lovers can pose a serious threat in this respect too; Hoodoo doctors are forever sorting out problems resulting from the malicious glance of a spurned husband or wife, or boyfriend or girlfriend.

The supposed effects of the evil eye can assume a myriad of forms, ranging from financial troubles and long runs of bad luck, to headaches, sudden fatigue, accidents, illness and even death.

F E A R A N D LOAT HI NG I N T H E SU BU R BS

Although my researches showed that belief in the power of the eye to cause harm is widespread and, accordingly, there could be a grain of truth in the idea, I still remained skeptical. But then events led me to change my mind. I literally walked right into the midst of an incident of the evil eye. 14 6

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During the early 1990s, a colleague of mine, who I’ll call Vanessa, telephoned me early one evening and asked me to call round. As I had little on that evening, I was able to go round to her house more or less straight away. It turned out that Vanessa was feeling guilty about having cast the evil eye on her two immediate neighbors. One was a young man called Ricky, who lived with his parents. He had a “hot-hatch-back” car and three or four times a week would return home late at night, having been to a nightclub. This was not a problem in itself; it was just that he persisted in slamming his car door when he got home, which woke Vanessa up. The other neighbor, Al, was a bachelor in his mid-fifties. Although extremely quiet most of the time, at weekends he would take his cassette player out into the garden and play old-time music-hall tunes very loudly. To Vanessa, this was too much. Although she was outwardly pleasant to both these neighbors, she was secretly giving them the withering glance of the evil eye. Just as she had finished telling me all this, there was a loud knock at her door. It was Al, her bachelor neighbor. “Someone’s put petrol in the alley next to my house and my fence is on fire,” he exclaimed. I immediately jumped up and went to help Al. Between us, we easily put the fire out. He then told me how that evening had been a nightmare for him. He had been outside sweeping fallen leaves from his drive when he noticed a strong smell of petrol, which seemed to be coming from the alley next to his house. He went to investigate and found a pool of petrol a couple of yards down the alley. Not far away was a teenage boy, so Al went over to him to see if he knew anything about the petrol. Al made the mistake of saying “Come here kid, I want to show you something.” Unsurprisingly, the teenager ran away. Al shrugged and went back to his house to try and find some rags to mop up the petrol. Once he’d found some, and was about to make his way back to the alley, a car screeched up behind him. Out got the teenage boy along with three burly youths. “That’s him!” exclaimed the boy. The three youths promptly leaped on Al. 147

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Luckily, before he got too badly hurt, Al managed to explain himself and they saw reason. The next thing, however, was that whoever had poured the petrol in the alley had now set it on fire. After I’d helped Al put out the fire, I walked back towards Vanessa’s house. At that very moment, Ricky, Vanessa’s other neighbor, climbed into his hot hatchback, gunned the engine and... bang! The engine blew up. Seconds later, his head was under the bonnet surveying the extent of the damage. I joined him. “Oh, no,” he said, “it’s had it. It’s a write off.” I went back to Vanessa’s house. “This evil eye business has got to stop,” I said. “Keep it up and you run the risk of killing people.” I returned the next day to perform a blessing ritual to nullify the effects of her evil glance. Despite chastising her, I couldn’t help but be impressed by the results she had achieved using the evil eye.

J I N X ED AU TOMOBILE

Another incident involving the Evil Eye occurred closer to home. It was after I had bought a new car - a jet black BMW, with smoked glass windows. My father was quite clearly envious of this purchase, mainly because he was getting a bit too old to drive himself and hadn’t quite come to terms with this fact. When he visited me at “MojoRain”, my country home on the eastside of paradise, he studiously avoided looking at the vehicle and made no reference to it whatsoever. But as he was leaving, he gave the vehicle one withering glance. The very next day, it wouldn’t start. The engine ticked over slightly and then ground to a halt. I did some basic checks on the engine and battery, but could find no obvious reason why the car wouldn’t start. In the end I called my mechanic, “Crowbar”. He’s a reformed car thief who is now a recognized genius with all internal combustion engines. Being a member of a motorcycle club, he 14 8

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tends to specialize in the repair and restoration of Harley Davidson motorcycles; but he has a magic touch with any type of engine. As ever, Crowbar roared up on his Harley and, after parking it in my drive, he pulled open the bonnet of my BMW to inspect the engine. “Turn the engine over,” he said, “let’s see what happens.”

I did as he requested but, as before, the engine spluttered then ground to a halt.

“Okay, that’s enough,” said Crowbar.

He then got his tool kit out, along with various meters to test the electrics. I sat on a garden chair and read the paper while Crowbar got down to finding the fault.

Five hours later, after endless cups of tea and two packs of biscuits, Crowbar declared: “There’s nothing wrong with this car. I’ve checked every last atom in this vehicle and it should start. I’m totally baffled.”

Crowbar paced up and down, muttering to himself and drawing heavily on his cigarette. I’d never seen Crowbar quite so agitated; but then no vehicle had ever defeated him before. I supposed that his magic touch was in question. At that point, my intuition kicked in and told me that the only way to get the car going again was to perform some conjure - to remove the effects of the evil eye. My instincts told me that the evil eye had affected the battery in some way, so I told Crowbar that I wanted to take the battery out.

“What?!” he yelled. “I’ll rip your fucking head off, if you take that battery out! There’s nothing wrong with it. I’ve triple tested everything on that vehicle.” “Crowbar!” I said, “Calm down, bare with me on this one, okay?”

After further mutterings, Crowbar calmed down and let me take the battery out. I took it to my altar, in the spare room of my house, and set about doing some conjure over the battery. This basically involved doing a blessing ritual and sprinkling the battery with copious amounts of holy water. When I was finished, I put the battery back in the car. While Crowbar huffed and puffed and swore under his breath, I switched on the ignition, turned the engine over and... it sprang to life. I revved it a few times, then left the engine ticking over. 149

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“Well, fuck a monkey!!!” exclaimed Crowbar. “I can’t believe it; I went through that engine with a fine-tooth comb.”

And so he did; but, as every Hoodooist knows, ordinary reality is never what it seems. Below the surface, under the facade of logic and reason, lies the elusive and shadowy world of sorcery.

B A N ISHI NG T H E E V IL E Y E

If you have suspicions that someone is casting the evil eye on you, then there is a way of discovering for certain whether this is the case or not. First go into a mild trance and look around your house through slightly squinted eyes. If you see any black specks floating, or flitting about in the air, then there is definitely some negativity in the atmosphere - negativity most likely caused by the evil eye.

Seven A f r ican Powers Incense

The best way to get rid of the black specks is to light a stick of Seven African Powers Incense and waft the smoke through and around them. As you do so, say the chant below in a confident voice: “In the name of the powerful spirits of Africa, I bid you black specks of evil to begone! Never to return.”

Letting out a wild, uncontrolled scream at this point will make absolutely sure that the specks will be banished for good. After you have done this, it is a good idea to sprinkle yourself with holy water, from head to toe, while uttering an incomprehensible chant. The give your thanks to the powers that have helped you; perhaps leave some fruit or liquor out on a table as an offering.

Ev il Eye Eliminator

According to Earl, the spell he used on board ship to avert the evil eye can be used to good effect by anyone believing they are under the baleful influence of the eye of doom. The spell is known as the “Evil Eye Eliminator” and these are the items you will need to execute it: ¸¸ 2 black candles

¸¸ Repelling Incense 150

¸¸ Reversible skull candle ¸¸ Repelling Oil

¸¸ A large bunch of bananas ¸¸ Black ribbon

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❂❂ As usual, perform a cleansing ritual, then light the black candles and burn some Repelling Incense.

❂❂ Take the reversible skull candle (these candles are used for dispelling evil and for cleansing) and rub it thoroughly with Repelling Oil, while uttering the chant below: “Evil eye, turn your gaze away from me, Look, instead, into the mirror, And let your evil be returned to sender.”

❂❂ Now place the skull candle in an unobtrusive place in your home. High up on a shelf out of the way would be ideal.

❂❂ Once you have done this, return to your altar and pass the bunch of bananas through the Repelling Incense smoke.

❂❂ Next tie the black ribbon around the bananas and hang them outside from the roof of your house until they go rotten. They will absorb any residue of the evil eye that may still be lurking in your home.

❂❂ When the bananas are completely rotten, take them to a crossroads and bury them, speaking the Hoodoo doctors’ unknown tongues. If you’re at sea, do what Earl did, and simply throw them overboard.

Crossbones A mulet

One of the most powerful charms you can carry against the evil eye is the Crossbones amulet. To make one, you will need: ¸¸ 2 small bones taken from ¸¸ Black thread ¸¸ Drive Away Evil Incense chicken wings

¸¸ Power Oil

¸¸ 1 white candle

❂❂ Set up your altar in the usual manner, this time burning Drive Away Evil Incense.

❂❂ Pass the white candle through the incense, then dress it with Power Oil (rubbing away from you). 151

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❂❂ Now place the candle in a holder and light it.

❂❂ Using the black thread, tie the chicken bones together so they form an equal armed cross. As you do this, chant: “Crossbones, deflect the evil eye, Let no negativity get to me; Protect me from the envy of others, And from their malicious glare. Crossbones, swallow up the baleful glance, And spit it back into the sender’s face.”

When the Crossbones amulet is completed, sprinkle it with holy water. Wear it on a leather cord around your neck anytime you think you may be under threat from the evil eye.

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CH A P TER SEV EN

SHADOW MAGIC

C U R SI NG, J I N X I NG A N D H E X I NG

Voodooists have never fought shy of such dark magical workings as wreaking revenge or cursing enemies. Such actions can be necessary as the world is not always sweetness and light. In Voodoo and Hoodoo, if someone does you or your family harm, there is no question of “turning the other cheek”. The perpetrator of evil is dealt with in kind. A curse or jinx is laid on them appropriate to the level of evil they have committed—“An eye for an eye.” In some cases, the evil doer could be given fair warning that you are about to curse them. This may be enough to deter them from committing further evil against you. But giving fair warning is in no sense compulsory. In fact, it could well give the impression that you are weak and indecisive, and thus easy prey for more wrong doings. In my experience, swift and direct magical justice is usually the best way of dealing with malicious people. 153

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FOOT T R ACK M AGIC

Foot Track Magic works on the assumption that a person’s footprint can be used as a magical link to affect them in some (usually malevolent) way.

For instance, a conjurer might sprinkle Goofer (graveyard) Dust or Hot Foot Powder (a herb and mineral formula) across a route used by his or her intended victim. Contact between the victim’s foot and the powder results in magical “poisoning”, which might take the form of an “unnatural” illness or a run of bad luck. To further empower the curse, conjure men and women usually recite an appropriate rhyme or chant, like the one below, as they sprinkle the Goofer Dust or Hot Foot Powder over their victim’s footprint. This is a particularly effective method of dealing with one’s enemies. The technique has its roots in the folk beliefs of the Yoruba, Fon and Congo peoples of Africa, and is widely used by Hoodooists. “[Name] when you walk this path, Graveyard dirt gonna blight your soul, No more luck and no more joy, Hell hound’s gonna dog your tail.” Foot Track Magic can also be used to make an enemy depart. You simply follow the person until he or she walks on some ground where they will leave a footprint. You then sprinkle Magnetic Sand into the footprint. Using a shovel, dig up the footprint and place it in a suitable container. You then carry the container to a river or stream, turn your back to the water and throw the contents of the container over your left shoulder into the water. The power of the Magnetic Sand will ensure the person in question will leave town. Items associated with the feet - socks, shoes, toenails and so on - can also be used to make someone depart. One conjure woman from the southern states of America utilized a novel way of getting rid of a relative who had out‑stayed his welcome. She took his toenail clippings and pulverized them. She then served them up to him in cornbread. He left shortly afterwards. 154

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Crossing and Jin x ing

“Crossing” is a variant of Foot Track Magic and involves placing a mark or symbol on a path where the intended victim walks. The mark or symbol is usually drawn in the dust or is laid out with herbs and powders, but crossed needles, pins, nails or brooms are also used. Like in Foot Track Magic, the “hurt” or curse enters the victim through the feet when he or she walks over the mark. Typical crossing marks include wavy lines, crosses, X’s and circles. Practitioners often spit upon the marks or crossed items to spiritually activate them. Another method of cursing someone is to jinx them. This will bring the victim a run of “unexplained” bad luck, often for years on end. One popular method of jinxing an enemy is to throw a preparation of herbs and powders into their yard or garden. Some appropriate herbs and roots to use for this are: valerian, knot grass, black mustard seed, chicory root and jimson weed. The herbs can be shredded or chopped and the roots powdered in a pestle and mortar. Then the throwing mixture should be placed in a bag or container and the chant below may be recited: “[Name] I curse your luck, No good will ever come of you. From this day forth, all you’ll know Is grief, gloom and misery.

Hell, damnation and misery, Be upon [name], Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, Devil haunt you till you die.”

You then go to your victim’s house and throw the mixture onto his or her property. For good measure, and assuming no one is in earshot, you might repeat the chant as you do this.

CA N DLE BU R N I NG R I T UA LS

Also popular for jinxing an enemy are candle burning rituals. These are both highly effective and easily performed.

❂❂ First, the altar should be set up with items that will induce an appropriately evil and vengeful mood - burn some Crossing or Damnation Incense, for example.

❂❂ Once everything is set up, anoint a black candle with Jinx Oil, then roll it in powdered knot grass herb. 155

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❂❂ The name of the person you wish to jinx should then be incised on the candle three times - from bottom to top. ❂❂ Place the black candle in a holder and perform a purifying ritual ❂❂ At this point, you light the candle and recite a suitably vengeful verse, along the lines of the one above. ❂❂ Once this is done, perform another purifying ritual and leave the candle to (safely) burn down. Do this ritual at midnight on three consecutive nights.

CH EW I NG T H E ROOT One of the most terrifying ways of hexing someone is known as “chewing the root”. This involves the Hoodoo doctor chewing a root (usually Chewing John Root) in the presence of his victim, while making signs and speaking incantations in unknown tongues. The effect of this is understandably terrifying; the doctor swaying from side to side and muttering incomprehensibly, his eyes rolled back, and the juice from the root running down his chin. Usually, the victim is brought to his or her knees, pleading for mercy, in a matter of seconds. Chewing the root was a speciality of Earl Marlowe. I remember one incident which occurred during the mid-1980s, after our blues/calypso band had played a successful date at a London venue. Quite a crowd had attended the gig and we looked forward to going home with a sizable wad of cash. Unfortunately, the organizer of the event had other ideas and, after giving us a lame excuse, absconded without giving us our agreed cut of the door money. Rather downhearted, we all packed up our gear and left. But Earl was not going to take the promoter’s dishonorable behavior lying down. The following day, he called me, telling me that “We gotta job to do,” and that I should meet him in a north London bar. When I arrived, Earl informed me that, through his contacts, he had the promoter’s home address and that we were shortly going to convince him of the error of his ways. I was a little apprehensive as I knew the promoter had some heavy contacts, not averse to carrying firearms on occasion. I raised this point with Earl. 156

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“Power of the root will burn him over,” he replied.

Once we had finished our drinks, we made our way to the large town house where the promoter lived. Earl confidently banged the door three times. After a couple of minutes, the promoter appeared. He didn’t look pleased to see us.

“We’ve come for what we’re owed,” Earl told him, putting on his sunglasses, through which he glared menacingly at the promoter.

The promoter was not impressed and a look of sheer malice overtook his face. “You two,” he said very slowly, his voice clearly quivering with rage, “had better get on your bikes a bit sharpish, otherwise I will be forced to personally rip your heads off!” Being decapitated was not the kind of end I would have chosen for myself - given the choice, that is. So I quietly suggested to Earl that we leave. Earl, apparently unperturbed by the violent outburst, ignored me and continued to stare at the promoter. Then he pulled a small, gnarled‑looking root out of this pocket, put it in his mouth and began to methodically chew on it. A moment or so later, he started to grunt and mutter incomprehensibly, and then began pacing up and down, his body shaking all over.

“What’s he doing?” the promoter asked nervously - by this time, Earl’s “unknown tongues” had taken on a distinctly inhuman quality. Then, despite his age, Earl leapt up the steps and let out a falsetto shriek right in the face of the promoter. The effect was electrifying. A look of horror overtook the promoter’s face and then he passed out cold. The very next day we were paid in full. The promoter even put in a bonus.

SU F F ER I NG ROOT Not all hexes, however, are justified. In his book Blue Roots, American writer Roger Pinckney relates how a number of years ago a white attorney from South Carolina hired a Gullah (black) housekeeper, but later dismissed her because he found her surly and unmotivated. The woman left the house in a huff, muttering about rooting or hexing her former employer.

A new housekeeper was hired, and, on her first day on the job, she discovered three brand‑new sewing needles tied together with black thread and stuck beneath the couple’s mattress. 157

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The maid recognized it as a Suffering Root. She showed the “root” to her employers and then threw the needles into the stove, urging the attorney’s wife to seek immediate help from the Hoodoo doctor. The wife laughed the incident off - until the following morning when she awoke to find her skin covered with a scaly rash. She then sought help, not from a conjure man, but from a medical specialist in Charleston. The diagnosis: a severe bout of chicken pox, the worst the doctor had ever seen. A day later, her infant son also came down with the pox. A month later, they had both recovered, but then the attorney himself was stricken with severe abdominal pain. He was rushed to hospital for an emergency appendectomy. As it happened, an older son was already there for a long-scheduled removal of his tonsils. But during the operation something went wrong. The boy stopped breathing and was revived only after much effort by the panicked doctors. Both father and son eventually went home, but their troubles were far from over. The attorney suffered a long series of debilitating post‑operative infections. Then, on a visit to his physician, he was struck by the similarity between the stitches holding together his infected incision and the needles tied with black thread found beneath his mattress. He immediately demanded the stitches be removed. The doctor protested. It was too early, especially considering infection had delayed the healing process. But the attorney persisted and the doctor complied. Two days later, he was completely healed. Neither he nor any member of his family suffered any further inexplicable and catastrophic ailments. Stories like these make it clear that you’re a fool if you don’t respect the power of the root or hex. Apart from anything else, there is documented evidence that people can and do die from the curses and hexes. Behavioral science explains away such deaths as resulting from shock, due to prolonged and intense emotion - namely, fear. On the surface, this seems to be a perfectly reasonable argument, especially considering the level of fear some Hoodoo doctors inspire in their local communities. However, statistics reveal that there is an almost total absence of stress-related death in other extremely stressful situations - such as during earthquakes, tornadoes or hurricanes. Indeed, even hostages, who are under daily threat of death, do not die from stress. It seems that humans can tolerate an incredible degree of stress - so long as there is no root or hex involved. 158

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WA R N I NG OF F A N EN E M Y If someone is causing you a degree of grief and you want to warn them off, then the following Voodoo doll spell should do the trick. ❂❂ Set up your altar and light two black candles, dressed with Go Away Oil. Get Away Incense could also be burned. ❂❂ Now place the doll on your altar and slowly push three pins into its head. As you do so, recite the following chant: “Pins of pain bring [name] an ache in the head, Make him/her regret all they’ve done and said.” ❂❂ Now put the doll in a sealed container and bury it in the ground. ❂❂ After three days, unearth the doll and take it to your enemy. Show it to them and explain that they have got a choice: ❂❂ they either stop causing you grief and you will remove the curse (by ritually removing the pins from the doll), ❂❂ or else they opt to continue causing you grief, in which case you will leave the curse intact, and their pains will get worse and worse. When confronted in this way, most troublesome people are reduced to jabbering skunk dogs, begging for mercy.

B A D N EIGH BOR S

Every so often I get people asking me for advice on dealing with bad neighbors. Just about all of them are being subjected to loud music being played at all hours of the night and to people returning home late shouting and fighting. When victims complain, they receive verbal abuse from their bad neighbors. Some are even threatened with violence. 159

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Situations like this are terrible. Especially for the vulnerable, such as older people or the disabled. But even a fit and confident young man or woman can be vulnerable if their bad neighbors have lots of big drunken or drug-addled friends. There’s no doubt about it. Anti-social neighbors need dealing with and deserve all they get. So here’s a spell that can be used to good effect to get rid of bad neighbors. Back in the mid-1990s I was plagued by an inconsiderate neighbor and hit them with this colorful hexing formula.

Bad Neighbor Blaster ❂❂ Take a small piece of parchment paper and write your neighbor’s name on it nine times using Dove’s Blood Ink. ❂❂ Light a black Double Action Reverse Candle, and mix the following ingredients: ¸¸ 1 teaspoon of Snake Root Powder. ¸¸ 9 Pieces of hair or some fingernail clippings from your bad neighbor, or any other

personal item you can get without them knowing.

¸¸ 2 teaspoons of Graveyard Dirt (also called “Goofer Dust”). ¸¸ 1 teaspoon of Poke Root Powder.

❂❂ Blow the candle out after it has burned for one hour. Then place it in a saucepan and melt the wax down. Add the above ingredients to the hot wax and then put in the parchment paper. ❂❂ Allow to cool slightly. Then thoroughly knead the black wax and other items into the shape of a ball. ❂❂ Set this aside in a cool, dark place to harden. When it is hard, go to a river or creek and throw the ball in the water (over your left shoulder). ❂❂ Walk slowly away without glancing back. This charm will make your neighbor depressed and miserable, and they’ll move far away from you. It worked for me back in the 1990s. 16 0

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But only use this spell if your neighbor is truly anti-social. Use mediation first. Think of all the current problems in Middle Eastern countries. They need to talk. And so does anyone who has a bad neighbor problem. But if talking doesn’t work, kick ass and take names!

Bad Neighbor Nuker

Spells are one thing. But there are more direct ways to deal with bad neighbors – violence being one. Which, incidentally, I don’t recommend unless you have great physical fitness and know how to look after yourself in physical combat. And even then you have to take care you don’t land yourself in hot water with the law. But a little direct action certainly served my friend Jack (not his real name) who used to serve in the special forces. Jack lives in the heart of the UK countryside.

A few years back some truly terrible neighbors moved in. They played loud music at all hours and spent much of their time shouting and screaming at each other, along with revving up junker cars. There was a man and wife and four big bruiser sons in their mid-twenties. Plus various members of their family visited daily, adding to the noise and disruption. They were all very arrogant and would menace Jack when he complained. To them, he didn’t look like any kind of threat. Fit-looking, yes, but not quite Mr. Bodybuilder (though strengthwise he’s a match for any bodybuilder). In short, the neighbors were bullies. What they hadn’t bargained for was the fact that Jack is an ex SAS operative. Very fit, strong, and intelligent. He also has the “five-second-fight” philosophy – i.e. if confronted with an enemy, don’t say a word, just attack with extreme prejudice. Finish it in five seconds or less. Anyway, Jack decided to be reasonable and gave his bad neighbors three chances to clean up their act. When they didn’t, he took action against them. One night at 3:00am (when the neighbors had gone quiet and presumably gone to bed), Jack got up and put on dark military-style clothing: balaclava, black sweatshirt, and blacked-up his face. He then climbed up onto his neighbors’ roof. Loosened some tiles and carefully removed them. Then he climbed into the loft of their house. 161

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Jack had previously worked out where the parents’ bedroom would be. So he took a deep breath, then leaped between the beams and crashed straight through the ceiling and landed on their bed – interrupting a moment of passion. So there was Jack standing on the bed, blacked-up and terrifying, while the couple were frozen in the act of love. Jack growled: “Sorry to interupt, but you and your family are going to move out by tomorrow.” He then pulled the man off his wife, jammed his fist into his throat to disable him, then grasped his (by now very flaccid) penis and twisted it violently. It was said the howls of pain and terror could be heard in the next village. Within seconds, the four burly sons burst into the bedroom to see what was happening. Their mouths dropped open; they were dumbfounded at the sight of their father having his penis twisted. But that moment of hesitation was their downfall. Jack immediately mounted a fast and furious assault on them – a five second fight. One precisely-targeted punch to each son put them all out of action, and left them groaning on the floor. Jack then said, “Toodle-oo” and let himself out by the front door. What he did so terrified the bad neighbors that within hours they abandoned their home and moved in with relatives a few hundred miles away. Their home was later sold and some considerate people moved in. It wasn’t Voodoo (Jack’s got no interest in such things). But it did involved highly unconventional (and extreme) physical and psychological threat. The psychological side can play a part when you use Voodoo to sort such people out. Presenting enemies with grotesque dolls in a coffin, for example, can cause them to turn white in terror. But I can only condone that sort of thing if you’re dealing with terrible people. If someone has slighted you in some way, don’t dwell on it. My advice is, don’t be too quick to take offense. Everyone has to live their own lives. The key thing is that they don’t interfere with your life. And you shouldn’t interfere with others either. I’m not preaching here. That’s just my philosophy. 162

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DR A LE X A N DER’ S DE AT H C U R SE

This is a highly potent curse, formulated by Dr Alexander, a nineteenth‑ century New Orleans Voodoo priest. But it is offered here for curiosity value only, and you are strongly advised not to use it. Not only is there more than enough malice in the world, but curses have a habit of rebounding ‑ unless you are a very experienced sorcerer, in which case you would have little need to curse anyone. This is best performed at midnight on a full moon. ❂❂ First write your enemy’s name on parchment in Dove’s Blood Ink and place it in an incense burner. ❂❂ Then add the following: ¸¸ 1 teaspoon of rosemary

¸¸ 1 teaspoon of patchouli leaves

¸¸ 4 teaspoons of frankincense

¸¸ ½ teaspoon f saltpetre

¸¸ 6 teaspoons of lavender incense

¸¸ 6 teaspoons of sandalwood incense

¸¸ 2 teaspoons of myrrh incense

¸¸ 1 teaspoon of cinnamon

¸¸ 4 teaspoons of orris powder

❂❂ Now use Dragon’s Blood Incense to draw a circle around your burner, and lay a piece of lodestone in front of it. ❂❂ Add the Dragon’s Blood Incense to the burner and light it. ❂❂ As the mixture burns, visualize how your enemy could meet their demise. ❂❂ Then go to bed leaving the mixture to smolder. “Do this for seven nights,” advised Dr Alexander, “and your enemy will be destroyed.” To further empower the hex, the good Doctor suggested placing a little of the mixture in a red mojo bag and throwing it on to your enemy’s property. 163

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T H E DA NGER S OF C U R SI NG

Cursing, even if the intent is less severe than Dr Alexander’s Black Curse, can rebound on the perpetrator in tragic ways, as the following story shows. In 1938, in a parish not far from New Orleans, the Reverend Howard Randle cut his wife’s throat because he believed she had put a spell on him. His wife, Lucinda, had been jealous of the female members of her husband’s congregation, especially those he visited regularly. In a moment of pique, she called on a Voodoo doctor and purchased some powder to put in her husband’s coffee; the powder, said the doctor, had the power to render impotent any man you consumed it. Randle drank the coffee, and almost immediately Lucinda lost her nerve. Overcome with remorse, and fearing that the powder might have even more drastic effects than the Voodoo doctor predicted, she began to scream, “I’ve killed you! I’ve killed you!’ and proceeded to tell Randle what she had done. After convincing him he was about to die, she fell to her knees and begged him to kill her. To discuss the issue, the couple went walking in the woods together. Lucinda again implored Randle to kill her. She told him she never wanted to be separated from him, and that because the “fix” had doomed him to die, the only way they could remain together was if she died too. “I figured I was gonna die anyway” Randle told police later, “and I didn’t want Lucinda left alone. She said she wanted to go first and that she’d be waiting for me by the river in that glorious land where we would live forever. I took out my knife and she closed her eyes. Then I cut her throat. 16 4

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It didn’t hurt her at all. She just raised one leg, let it drop, and she was dead.” Lucinda had to wait a long time by the river—Randle received a life sentence for her murder.

HIGH LE V EL H E X I NG

Hexing is more prevalent than most people imagine. Although not widely reported, it is known to have been utilized by various military dictators. For example, when US forces invaded Panama in 1989, resulting in the imprisonment of General Noriega, they found some unusual items in his mansion. These included a large table covered with glass‑cased candles, strange‑looking statues and little cloth bags containing various powders, which were assumed to be drugs. When analysed, however, the powders were found to be a mixture of herbs and incenses. Later it was discovered that General Noriega had in his employ one or more sorcerers of Brazilian, Cuban or Puerto Rican extraction, whom it was said had been performing hexes against the Americans on behalf of the General. The late Idi Amin of Uganda was also known to have extensively employed black magicians, working in the African sorcery tradition. One account claims that Amin abducted someone who had offended him, and that one of the most powerful sorcerers for hire in Africa slowly skinned the abductee alive in a ritual to capture his soul, in order to make it a slave for Idi Amin. More recently, many Santeria and Voodoo practitioners have speculated that the mysterious and elusive “Gulf War Syndrome” was the result of a massive hexing performed by Saddam Hussein.

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CH A P TER EIGHT

SOOTHSAYING

CA R D R E A DI NG

“Tarot cards are just fancy shit,” said Earl, as we sat under a big oak on Hampstead Heath, the green lungs of north London. “You don’t need ’em to get a take on the future. Way I see it, a deck a playing cards’ll do just as well, if not better.” He was running through the rudiments of fortune telling with playing cards. A dog‑eared deck of cards was spread out, face down, on a purple satin cloth on the grass. “Pull a card,” he said, “and keep it face down.”

I held the flat of my hand over the cards for a moment, then selected one that seemed to stand out. I laid it on the cloth, away from the other cards. Earl picked it up for some reason scrutinized the Chinese dragon design on the back. After a second or so, he said, “I see some very unusual currents of energy circulating in luminous globules around your etheric body. This configuration of crystalline droplets makes me 100 per cent certain that the spirits have picked you out to learn the secrets of the Rattler, the desert dreamer.” 167

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“The what?” I asked, completely mystified.

“The Rattler,” he repeated. “But I can say no more on this until after the dark of the moon.”

“Oh, come on!” I protested. “You can’t set me up like that, without explaining what you mean.” He shook his head. “The less said, the better. You’ll meet the Rattler soon enough.”

As he was unwilling to elaborate further, I decided to risk pointing out what seemed to me to be a fatal flaw in this card‑reading technique. “Don’t you turn the cards face up when you read them?”

“Never needed to; only confuses the issue,” he said, looking very nettled that I should dare to point this out. He then explained that any conjure worker, or soothsayer, worth their salt, never turns the cards the right way up during a reading. “The backs are where the real auguries are encoded.”

He did, however, concede that it might be necessary, certainly at first, to learn the conventional techniques of card reading in order to progress to the more “advanced technique” of reading the backs. “Apart from anything else,” he continued, “most people expect you to read the fronts. But the fact is, reading the fronts ain’t nowhere near as powerful as reading the reverse sides.”

The “back” or “front” issue aside, Earl was a great believer in the accuracy of playing cards when it came to divining the future. He saw them as particularly valuable when it came to putting someone on the right course in life.

“Lotta people tend to drift through life. They got no idea where they goin’, nor where they come from. They got no notion of their destiny. But show them their destiny and bang! Everything fits into place. They got a purpose in life. Just like the planets that circle the sun, they found their orbit. They got no doubt; they flow with the power of the cosmos. Discover your destiny and your life will be fulfilled.”

Fanny Mosebur y So far as Earl was concerned, a good card reader can reveal a person’s destiny—and therefore change a person’s life. “Friend o’ mine, Fanny Mosebury, who lived down in New Orleans during the 1930s, turned a man’s life around with a card reading,” said Earl. “She was one scary 16 8

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psychic, believe me. Spirits hung out in her house all the time. They’d appear in her bedroom and turn her mattress upside down or else they’d take the feathers out of it and leave ’em strewn across the floor. One time a spirit even stomped on her roof, blocked her chimney and caused her front room to fill up with smoke.” Earl lay back against the oak tree, his legs stretched out, and proceeded to tell me the following story.

One night, there was a man sitting on Fanny’s doorstep. She knew him slightly. His name was Howard, and he’d left his wife when she had become pregnant to take up with another woman. Not that this particularly bothered Fanny; “people’s business is their own,” was her attitude. But Fanny knew that one of the spirits in her house, Marie Laveau, didn’t like Howard; so, for his own good, she told him to move away from her property—otherwise that spirit might cause him trouble.

But Howard scorned her warning, saying “I ain’t scared of no spirit doing nothin’ to me, ha! ha!” He then defiantly lit a cigar, and began to puff clouds of smoke into Fanny’s face. Having done all she could to warn him, she closed the door on him.

Suddenly a chill came over Howard, and his cigar went out. His hands began to tremble, and when he attempted to get up to run away he found himself frozen to the spot. Then something that felt like a heavy hand pushed his hat over his eyes and slapped him across the face. When he attempted to call Fanny, the invisible hand pressed his mouth closed, and a voice said, “Go and pray and respect.” Eventually, he was able to move again and lifted his hat from his eyes. As he did so, he saw a very beautiful girl of mixed race standing near to him—it was Marie Laveau. Then she vanished as suddenly as she appeared.

In a panic, Howard flew up the steps to Fanny’s house and banged frantically on her door. Fanny took him into her house, which was a gloomy place with pictures of saints pinned to the walls, red lamps burning and Catholic images on every table and dresser. When he related what had happened, she gave him a crucifix to wear and told him to go back to his wife and never to leave her. “No way,” he said. “My wife threatened me with a knife and I don’t want to see her again.” 16 9

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Fanny pulled out a deck of cards from the drawer of her dresser and cut it four times. “I see a fight,” she said, “and it was the night you beat her. I see blood and a torn dress, and I see a child crying and a pistol on a table right by a Bible. But I don’t see no knife.” “She had it hidden in her dress,” said Howard, “she sho’ had.” Fanny cut the deck again and spread the cards out on the table. “Cards show that she ain’t had a knife, but told you she had, and she’d cut your hand if you reached for the gun. You already hit her and made her nose bleed.” She had described the fight exactly as it had occurred. Howard began to tremble again. “How’d those cards tell you all that? Lord have mercy; that’s just how it was. I feel something comin’ on me. I can’t stop trembling. Oh, Lord, Miss Fanny, give me a drink of whiskey, please!” Being of a pious disposition, Fanny had no whiskey, but gave him a dose of aromatic spirits of ammonia, which she kept for her own frequent use (she was in a constant state of shock due to the antics of the spirits that haunted her house). Howard soon revived and the trembling stopped. “I see no other way,” he said. “And I’m going... I’m going back to Martha, Lord help me.” Howard was true to his word and went back to his wife. And soon afterwards, his whole life was changed around. After studying theology and philosophy, he became a charismatic preacher of no mean ability. His services pulled a big congregation due to the quality of the singing and music. Central to Howard’s services were the “sisters”, who were all supposed to be blessed with psychic powers and at intervals wandered through the congregation offering to pray for those who were sick or had troubles of one sort or another.

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T H E CA R DS

“That’s how a man discovered his destiny through a card reading,” Earl concluded. At that point, we adjourned to the café on the far northern fringes of the heath. As we sipped our tea, Earl instructed me in the basics of conventional playing‑card reading. This was something he was loath to do, as he wholeheartedly believed in abstract methods of conjure, epitomized by reading the backs, rather than the fronts of cards. But he relented on the premise that “clients’ll think you’re crazy if you don’t adhere to some conventional structures.” I frantically took notes as Earl reeled off a list of meanings for the four suits of the average 52‑card deck of playing cards. You may like to use these meanings for your own experiments with the art of divining the future. They are listed on the following pages more or less as Earl related them that summer’s day. The Ace of Hearts is an important card. On its own, it represents the home. With other cards see below.

Next to hearts, it implies love, friendship and affection.

Next to spades, it foretells disagreements, misunderstandings, contention or misfortune.

Next to diamonds, money or news of distant friends.

Next to clubs, and you will have to work to get what you want.

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An important card. On its own, it represents the home. Prosperity and success - the degree of which depends on the surrounding cards. Tact and discretion are called for. Danger of being “left on the shelf ” due to being over critical and hard to please in rela‑ tionships. Groundless jealousy. Your naturally trusting nature could be easy prey for con artists. An unreliable, possibly untrustworthy friend, who may prove to be an enemy. An enjoyable and busy social life. Wishes fulfilled. The degree to which they are fulfilled depends on the surrounding cards. Good fortune. Happiness and the possibility of a large family. This card negates the influence of any bad cards in a reading and confirms good ones. Neither male nor female, it can represent Cupid or the best friend of the inquirer. A fair‑featured woman, loving and loveable, prudent and faithful. A good‑hearted man with strong emotions, but given to rash judgements and having more zeal than discretion.

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Trouble, danger, even an augury of death. Moving home. A relationship that will be marred by infidelity - either on you or your partner’s part. Pay great attention to business and finances. Another’s bad temper may interfere with your life; but happiness can be found with the one you love. After an intense period of hard work, comes both rest and wealth. Sorrow caused by the loss of a dear friend. A warning regarding any current enterprises. Possibly evil and opposition from friends. An ill-fated card foretelling sickness, loss and family feuds. An evil omen. Possibly grief or incarceration. This card has power to undermine good cards near to it. A well-meaning but lazy person. A malicious and unscrupulous woman, fond of scandal and open to bribes. An ambitious and successful, dark-featured man who could be dangerous.

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Money and wealth. A tempestuous love affair which causes opposition from relatives or friends. Legal and domestic quarrels. Unhappiness caused by a partner’s irritability. A confidence is betrayed. Unexpected news, or success in business enterprises. The end of a serious relationship. Be very careful about rushing into another one. Be careful - hard times and money problems may lie ahead. Beware uncharitable tongues. A permanent relationship late in life which will likely be somewhat chequered. If next to positive cards, it implies a pleasant surprise connected with money; but next to negative cards, it signifies “crossed swords”. Plenty of money. Possibly a marriage with several children. A near relative who puts his own interests first, is self‑opinionated and easily offended. A fair‑featured woman, flirtatious and fond of parties and admiration. A fair-featured man with a violent temper and a vindictive, obstinate turn of mind.

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General prosperity. A peaceful home life. Disappointment and opposition. Marrying into money. Beware deceit and double‑dealing. An advantageous relationship or marriage. Success in business. Great happiness and good fortune, but if trouble is encountered it will be caused by someone of the opposite sex. A passion for financial speculation or gambling. Discord resulting from the opposition of friends or relatives. Sudden riches, possibly from a legacy or a lottery win. A loyal and generous friend. A trusting and affectionate, dark‑featured woman, who is attractive to men, but not taken in by flattery. A dark‑featured, high‑minded man, who makes a reliable friend and a faithful lover.

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T he Joker

I always include a Joker in my deck for fortune telling. If you decide to do the same, then the Joker should be viewed as the wild card. It signifies raw power and untameable force. If it comes up when you do a reading, you can be sure that something unpredictable and awe‑inspiring is about to pass through your life (or through the life of your inquirer). Whether this is of a positive nature or not depends on the cards surrounding the Joker. But even this is not a reliable indicator with the wild card: all you can really do is wait and see what occurs. When the Joker is around events are in the hands of fate.

T he Four‑Ca rd Spread

Once you have memorized the meanings of the cards, you need to sort out a spread for organ‑ izing your readings. Earl taught me a simple one, called the four‑card spread, which can be used on a daily basis to see how things are going in your life generally. It shows the circumstances surrounding the present, the recent past and the near future. By far the best way to begin any divinatory reading is to first get yourself into a mild trance state, then perform a cleansing ritual (but don’t worry about taking too long over this; the main thing is to sprinkle some holy water around the area you are doing the reading in). Next give the cards a thorough shuffle and cut the deck three times.

You can then pull four cards from the deck and lay them out, face up. The first card should be placed vertically on the table in front of you; the second placed horizontally over the first, forming a cross; the third put on the left side of the crossed cards; and the fourth on the right side of the crossed cards.

The first card represents what is going on in your life now. The second card shows the biggest influence in your life at present. The third card reveals the recent past, the fourth the near future. 176

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The Four-Card Spread is ideal for beginners, as it is simple to perform and is also surpris‑ ingly accurate. Personally, however, I usually work in a more free‑form manner. If I’m doing a reading for a client, I first find out what is on their mind, partly by talking to them, but also by observing their body language, and so on. Then I shuffle the cards, and lay out the whole deck one‑by‑one, reading the meanings as I go. I don’t always go through the complete deck - my intuition sometimes tells me it is time to stop, as we’ve got all the information we need.

Self-Reading

I also use this method when I am doing readings for myself - although, to save time, I often draw out nine cards, rather than going through the lot. It all depends on the importance of the reading. Readings done first thing in the morning to ascertain conditions surrounding the day ahead work well using nine cards. Interpret the first three as referring to the morning, the second three to the afternoon, the third three to the evening.

Ca rd Conjure

You can use playing cards to good effect in spells and conjure. Instead of divining the future with them, you set about changing it. ❂❂ First, select the cards you would ideally like to see come up in a divination reading. For instance, if you wished to attain success in business, you might choose the following cards: six of clubs, ace of diamonds, deuce of hearts and the nine of hearts. 17 7

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❂❂ Once you have selected the appropriate cards, perform a cleansing ritual and burn the appropriate incense (such as Success Incense for success in business).

❂❂ Then, using a Voodoo doll, you perform a mock divination ritual, with the doll taking the role of a powerful psychic reader. You place your selected cards in front of the fortune teller, as if he or she were reading your fortune. Make it as “real” as possible. Mimic his or her voice out loud - gasp at how fortuitous the reading is and say something like, “I see in the cards that you are going to be very, very rich. A business venture is going to exceed your wildest expectations...” Repeat this kind of dialogue until it becomes a chant.

❂❂ Once you feel the spell has met its mark, perform a closing ritual and wrap the doll, along with the cards, in a white cloth and bury them in some “holy ground”, so the “seeds” of success (or whatever the intent of your spell) can germinate and grow. (Use your intuition to find your holy ground - it may be an ancient sacred site, or it could be in your own back yard.)

SOOT HS AY I NG W I T H DOMI NOES

If you have difficulty with the above divining method (it isn’t necessarily for everyone), try using dominoes instead. They’re a great way of getting an indication of what is coming up in the near future. You’ll be able to get a clear view of the prevailing influences and energies that could affect you and those around you.

Here’s what you do: ❂❂ Place all dominoes face down and then shuffle them. Three dominoes will be used for the reading, and they may be selected in either of two ways. 178

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❂❂ You may pick all three at once, or you may choose them one at a time, reading the chosen domino and divining its message and then returning it to the pile to be shuffled again.

❂❂ The second method offers the possibility that the same tile could be drawn twice. If this happens, an immediate fulfillment of the message is indicated. However the dominoes are drawn, only three may be used at a sitting.

V ISION A RY DI V I N I NG

Here’s another interesting method of divination that will help you catch a glimpse of what lies ahead. Voodoo people use it. So did Celtic and Anglo-Saxon diviners. And hunter-gatherer sorcerers from distant antiquity. First off, you enter trance. Use the “sensory systems” method. Simply sit or stand and focus on the input of your senses. Do it in any order, but use the following to start off with. ❂❂ Sight: peripheral vision – what you can see out of the corners of your eyes.

❂❂ Sound: what you can hear – bird song, the wind in the trees, the distant hum of traffic. ❂❂ Touch: feel the cool breeze on your cheek or warmth of the sun on your arms.

❂❂ Scent: notice the aroma of the flowers in your garden or window box; or simply become aware of the scents drifting on the air.

❂❂ Taste: this is closely related to the sense of smell – become aware of the sensations in your mouth. There may be an after-taste of a meal or drink. If not, just become aware of how your tongue and mouth feels.

This method stills the chatter of the mind and induces a state of deep relaxation. You may need to channel through the senses a few times to get the desired effect. But eventually, it will take a matter of seconds.

Placing your attention on sensory experience will enhance your appreciation of the natural world. What’s more, when the chatter of the mind is stilled your imagination is free to seep into your everyday consciousness. Thus when you look up at the clouds, or look at the branches of a tree swaying in the breeze, you will see all sorts of shapes and images. In fact, even when looking at something as ordinary as the weave of a carpet while in trance can produce a visionary state. 179

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When I stare at the carpet in my study, I often see faces, animals, mythical beasts, and other images. What is happening is this: when in trance, the imagination comes to the forefront of consciousness and enters into dynamic interaction with the environment.

This form of visionary experience can be used to good effect in divining. It’s similar to using a crystal ball.

First you formulate a question. Then go into a trance and stare at whatever appeals to you: the weave of a carpet, clouds in the sky, or the leaves and branches on a tree. When you begin seeing visions and images, you simply interpret their meaning according to the nature of the question you asked.

If you wanted to know if a friend is deceiving you and you see a fox or coyote, odds are they are deceiving you. But remember there are no set rules on this. It all depends on how you perceive given images. If you see the coyote or fox as cunning tricksters, then that is how you should interpret your vision. Don’t read books that tell you how to interpret symbols. Make your own rules. That’s the route to true magical power.

OR ACLES OF S A N T ER I A

High priests of Santeria, known as “babalaos”, generally use two systems of divination: the Ifá and the Caracoles. The oracle of Ifá consists of a body of sacred stories (patakies) that a babalao memorizes. By casting a small chain with eight concave, oval or round pieces of leather, coconut or calabash rind attached to it, the babalao obtains a configuration that indicates which “oddu”, or chapter, of the oracle of Ifá is to be recited at a particular moment for a particular enquirer. These stories are usually very ambiguous; the babalao must rely on his magically inspired intuition to find the correct application of the story to the situation. Although considered highly reliable, the Ifá oracle is not sought as often as the Caracoles, or cowrie shells, which are said to be the mouths of the Orishas (gods). The Caracoles is much simpler than the Ifá system. While as many as 256 oddus appear in Ifá, only 16 “letras” (equivalent of oddus) are evident in Caracoles divination. Sixteen cowrie shells are cast; the number of shells that fall with the natural opening facing up determines which letra is to be recited. 18 0

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The luckiest domino of them all, forecasting happiness, success, and prosperity in all aspects of life. Enhanced status, the presence of a close friend or patron, a sign that any kindness will bring you esteem, a caution toward patience and tenacity. A quarrel, perhaps even an unsuccessful lawsuit. Travel, enjoyment, a happy holiday; a gift. Good luck and improved circumstances, but only for those who are honest. A wedding; an end to problems, possibly as a result of the intervention of a good friend. Beware of false friends, for their malicious gossip could cause suffering for you. Change bringing success, a beneficial move, money that results from a new idea. Financial luck, possibly unexpected, but avoid making investments at this time. Calm, serenity; a guest; good news or helpful advice given to you by your boss or a visitor. Birth, influence from a true patient friend, sociability and enjoyment. A love affair or new friend, possible unhappy endings for those who are in love. Sadness, the necessity of comforting a friend in trouble but with tact and caution. Happiness, celebration, relaxation, fun.

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Happiness and success instead of expected disappointments but possible domestic problems. An unhappy change, setbacks, loss, possibly a theft. Beware of a deceitful acquaintance. Financial problems ahead, pay outstanding debts. Bad news; disappointment in love, temporarily thwarted goals. Reconcile disagreements. Emotional obstacles, jealousy, but beneficial financial indications; a wedding. Pleasant changes, but be cautious - particularly where monetary matters are concerned. The answer to your question is no, unexpected useful news, outsiders could cause problems. Unexpected problems at home and work. Success and happiness, in spite of the efforts your enemies may be making against you. Loss of money or property, but old friends and a happy social life. Travel and new friends, but also anxiety. Someone could cause serious difficulties. Pleasure, harmony, and affection; a stranger; avoid delaying an important decision. Be careful; do not let yourself be overly trusting, even though a stranger could bring you news that seems to promise financial gain. Direst omens, negative indications in all areas of life.

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T H E WOR L D BEHI N D T H E MIR ROR

When we’d finished our tea, Earl and I decided to take a final stroll across the heath before heading home. I took the opportunity to question him further about the reading he had done for me earlier. He stopped for a moment then, almost in a whisper, said, “The reading showed me that it will soon be time for you and me to travel in our spirit bodies to the world behind the mirror.” Great, I thought, I ask for elucidation and he gets even more cryptic. “And how do we go about that?” I asked with growing impatience. He grinned somewhat mischievously. “We eat some sacred fungi, then we meet the guardian of the crossroads and ask his permission to enter the spirit realm. Better hang on to your hat, though, ’cause things can turn seriously hairy there.” I gulped, “In what way?” “Well, for one thing, you’re destined to meet the Rattler, the desert dreamer,” he said, still grinning and obviously relishing my trepidation. “My vision tells me he is your ally or power animal. He’s a tricky one, very powerful, but tricky. He’ll either accept you or he won’t. If he doesn’t accept you, then watch out! He’ll swallow you whole—soul and all.” After I’d left Earl and was on my way home, I mused on the outlandish, upside‑down card reading Earl had done for me. And on the even more outlandish interpretation.

“How can you read the backs of cards, when they are all exactly the same?” I asked myself. “And who, or what, was the desert dreamer, the eater of souls?” The whole thing reminded me of the tale about Brer Rabbit I’d been read as a boy.

BR ER R A BBI T A N D T H E BON E T R ICK

One time old Brer Rabbit was thinking up ways he could outwit Brer Bear and get his hands on the vegetables he was growing on his patch. Brer Rabbit had been too busy lazing around in the spring sunshine to have grown any provisions himself that year and so thought he’d take advantage of someone else’s hard work. 183

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He went up to Brer Bear and said to him, “Brer Bear, I sees you grown a fine vegetable patch, this year. Now I wouldn’t want any harm to come to it, no sir. But I been casting them bones the old soothsayer give me, and they say that a whole sack full of your potatoes is gonna git dug up by a thief, this very night.” “Why thanks for warning me, Brer Rabbit, you is a true friend,” said Brer Bear. That night Brer Bear heeded Brer Rabbit’s warning and sat up with a big stick guarding his vegetable patch. Wily old Brer Rabbit sat in a nearby bush, biding his time. When he heard Brer Bear begin to snore, he took his chance and dug up a sack full of potatoes and ran off home with them. The following day, Brer Bear went up to Brer Rabbit and said, “Brer Rabbit, you was right about a thief digging up my potatoes in the night and running off with them. I sat up guarding them. Only problem was I fell asleep and the thief got away with them. Now, what with you being wise an’ all, specially when it come to fortune tellin’, I’m thinking that maybe if you guarded my vegetable patch, the thief wouldn’t catch you nappin’. If you do me this favor, I’ll give you a generous share o’ my vegetables.” Brer Rabbit agreed to guard Brer Bear’s vegetable plot for a share of the vegetables. But, of course, as he himself was the only vegetable thief in the neighborhood, he didn’t exactly have to be a vigilant guard. In fact, he slept soundly all night. The following morning Brer Bear was overjoyed to find that no one had stolen his vegetables and congratulated Brer Rabbit on having done a fine job of guarding the vegetable patch. As a reward, he gave Brer Rabbit a whole sack full of vegetables to take home and promised him more if he continued to guard his vegetable patch. Brer Rabbit was the Afro‑American slave version of the trickster of African folklore. He was always up to mischief. But sometimes his mischief‑making got out of hand. And I was beginning to think that this is what had happened with Earl. Could I trust him? I was starting to wonder... 18 4

CH A P TER NINE

VOODOO SPIRITS

“It will soon be time to embark on our journey,” announced Earl, his dark eyes dancing in the candle-lit room. “The Rattler ‑ the desert dreamer - is eager to meet you.” A shiver went through me as he said this. I really did not want to go on to some enigmatic journey to meet spirits and power animals. Apart from any other considerations, I’d been having bad dreams about a huge rattle‑snake coiling itself round me, its cold eyes staring into mine, and its tongue flitting out; and all the time, its tail rattling the heavy staccato of the bongo drums. In fact, at that point, I’d come to the conclusion that I couldn’t trust Earl. I just didn’t know what he would do next. That winter’s evening, however, Earl had invited me round to his place. He’d prepared a delicious meal of spicy beef stew with mushrooms and peppers. It was clearly a reconciliatory gesture on Earl’s part, knowing that I had grown apprehensive about the direction in which his teachings had progressed. 185

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Once we’d finished our meal, we sat down in his tatty armchairs to drink bourbon. This helped me to relax. In fact, while Earl related various tales from the Caribbean, I relaxed to the point that I fell into a dreamy reverie. Staring at the bottle, I noticed that the flickering candlelight reflected in the glass seemed to be jumping on to the tabletop, where it transformed into tiny fairy-like people who danced with wild abandon. I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them again, but the “fairies” continued to dance.

Suddenly, a terrible panic overwhelmed me. I leapt to my feet and pointed a finger at Earl. “You spiked the food with magic mushrooms, didn’t you?!” “Well, I told you, it’s time for our journey,” he replied.

“You should’ve asked me first. It’s incredibly irresponsible,” I ranted, in a fury.

At this he burst out laughing, slapping his thigh in his mirth. “You’re too much,” he spluttered. “You say you want to learn the secrets of Hoodoo, and then you chicken out when the serious business begins. You can’t have it two ways, man; if you can’t take the heat, then get out of the kitchen.” “Well, you haven’t exactly given me much choice,” I complained.

He then got up and put his hand on my shoulder and, with a kindly look, said, “I wouldn’t be doing this if the spirits hadn’t marked you out. Don’t worry, I’m with you 100 per cent of the way. Every novice of the spirit world has to have his guide - and I’m yours.” “But what happens next?” I asked, calming down a little.

He shrugged and said, “Can’t predict what the spirits are gonna do. We have to wait and see. Ride it out.”

Just at that moment came three sharp knocks on Earl’s door. I nearly jumped out of my skin, but Earl didn’t flinch. With a knowing nod, he got up and answered the door. When he came back into the room, he said, “Journey’s ’bout to begin.” I looked up and behind Earl was the visitor. It was an Afro-Latino-looking man, dressed in a black leather chauffeur’s uniform, complete with cap and shades.

He held out his hand to me, “Pleased to meet you,” he said. Then, with a wide grin, added, “I think you probably guessed my name.” 18 6

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“Yeah, he’s a man of wealth and fame,” put in Earl. My blood ran cold. “Truth is, I’m a man o’ many names. But you can call me Papa Legba,” said the chauffeur, with a smile. “I’m the dark man, the weaver of the web. I drive the car and open the gates.” He then sat down in an armchair and poured himself a large bourbon. Slugging it back, he said “Ahhh, nectar to an old devil’s taste buds.” He put the glass down, then added, “Car’s waitin’ outside. Grab ya coats boys. Time to hit the road.” Even though, by then, events had turned decidedly weird, I decided to follow them through. So I picked up my coat and followed Earl and Legba down the stairs. Outside was a black Daimler. As we walked up to the vehicle, I noticed that a large black spider was spinning its web on the chrome bonnet ornament. Legba held the back door open for Earl and me. We climbed in; Legba shut the door and got into the driver’s seat. He checked the mirror, then gunned the powerful engine. “Yee Hah!” he yelled. “Let’s get outta this town!” We drove off through the city streets. As we crossed the river, the landscape outside began to blur and London landmarks simply faded out, as we entered a gray, all-encompassing mist. Earl lit a cigarette; the flash of the match momentarily illuminated the gloom. “It’s the mist of limbo,” he informed me. Soon I started to see forms in the mist, strange swirling shapes, and voices... When the mist and visions abated, we found ourselves driving down a dirt track, lined by tall cypress trees. Eventually we arrived at a large farm gate, which was wide open. We drove through and were suddenly confronted with what looked like a rock festival. A sea of people and tents stretched out into the distance. Music played and I could make out a stage, with towering PA speakers, some distance away. Papa Legba drew the car to a halt, jumped out and held the back door open for us to get out. “Come on, boys, time for me to leave you.” Referring to me, he added, “Kid here’s got an appointment with the Crawlin’ King Snake.” 187

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We climbed out, said goodbye to Legba, then watched him drive off along the route we came in on. We then walked deep into the heart of the crowd. Thousands of people, of all nationalities, dressed in wild and colorful clothes were at the festival. Some were selling clothes, others food and drink. But the majority were down by the stage areas, listening to the bands. “This is unreal,” I said to Earl. A serious expression came on to his face. “One day,” he said “you will come to know that this is more real than the everyday reality you’re familiar with. Keep your eyes open for anything unusual. It might only be a momentary thing, a glimpse, but the moment you see it you will know. And you must follow it immediately - do you understand? Don’t wait for me, just go straight after it.” “But everything is unusual here,” I said. “How am I supposed to tell the difference?” When I turned round, he was gone. “Earl!” I yelled, dashing through the crowd and around the tents. But there was no sign of him. Then the sea of tents and people, the very festival itself, seemed to fade into the background. It was still discernible, but everything went quiet and took on a dreamlike hue. Up ahead, and clearly tangible, was a tent, much like a fortune‑teller’s tent, covered in intricate symbols. I decided this was the sign Earl insisted I look out for. So I tentatively entered the tent. To my astonishment, a life‑size rabbit sat behind a table with a crystal ball on it. It grinned and said, “Wowee! Another customer. Business sure is brisk today. Like your fortune told? Or’d you like to purchase my elixir of life? It’s one hell of a remedy’ guaranteed to make ya live to 150. Serious medication made outta bourbon, gunpowder and cocaine... But no, I sees you is a special visitor. You an upside‑down man come to see the Rattler, the desert dreamer. Wait here one moment, an’ I’ll go an’ fetch him.” The rabbit left via the back of the tent and I heard him calling for someone. Moments later an old man came in. He looked like an archetypal Native American shaman: long gray hair, feathered head-dress and bones hanging on a cord around his neck. I recognized him as the “Powerful Indian” spirit of Hoodoo lore. He sat cross-legged on a cushion on the floor and motioned me to follow suit. 188

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“Like Rabbit said, you’re an upside‑down man,” he declared in a slow, deep voice. “Upside-down man is a sorcerer. Everything he does is contrary, upside-down, to the average person. He walks between the worlds and talks with the spirits. Doesn’t mean you any more special than anyone else who walks this beautiful earth; just means the spirits marked you out to do a job o’ work—a job o’ helpin’ people.” He went quiet for a moment and in that silence I knew utter peace and utter joy. Then he looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Follow the path o’ good. Turn your back on the bad. Look to the rainbow and follow the flight of the eagle. You an earth sorcerer, but it don’t hurt to look up at the sky once in a while.” With that, he got up, walked over to me and laid the palms of his hands on my head. “They call me the Rattler, the desert dreamer. I’m the Crawlin’ King Snake all those blues songs spoke of; and you ’bout to become the Snakeman. You gonna crawl the earth and sing your song. Sing it well... Sing it well...” At that moment his whole body began to coalesce into a shimmering light, which then flew down to the floor and turned into a snake - a rattlesnake - which slithered across the floor and out of the back of the tent. I left the tent to go in search of Earl. The festival had now disappeared completely. In its place was a swirling mist, very much like the mist of limbo we’d encountered previously. I called Earl’s name a few times, but got no reply. So I walked and walked, seemingly getting nowhere. After a while, though, I heard the sound of lapping water and eventually came across a river. Due to the mist, I couldn’t see the other side, but somehow I felt it was very wide. Suddenly, as I was staring out into the mist, a voice came from down-river. “Hey, it’s the Snakeman!” I recognized the voice as Papa Legba’s and, through the mist, could just make out his face. I walked closer and saw that he was on a ferryboat, holding a pole. Beside him was Earl. “Earl!” I exclaimed, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” 18 9

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He sat quietly for a moment, as if musing on my statement, then said, “You shoulda looked nowhere for me, then you’d a found me.” “We’ve got to find a way back home,” I said, not wishing at that point to get caught up in abstract metaphysics.

“I’m not comin’ home,” he said quietly. “It’s time for me to sail down the River of Destiny. Papa Legba’s takin’ me.” “No,” I said, desperately. “We’ve got to get back.”

Earl shook his head. I reached out my hand to him, but before I could reach him, Papa Legba began heaving the ferryboat out into the water.

“Goodbye,” called Earl. “Don’t shed no tears. You the Snakeman now, the Snakeman... Snakeman... Snakeman...”

As Earl’s voice faded into the mist, the strange otherworld I was in seemed to fade out too. For a moment that reached into eternity, I found myself in a strange state of non‑being. I had no thoughts. I could neither see, hear, feel, taste or smell anything. Yet in some form, I continued to exist. All worldly, material aspects of my being had been stripped away and I was experiencing my deepest self. I was one with my soul or spirit. At some point in this timeless, spaceless state, my senses slowly reactivated and I found myself lying on some damp grass. Rolling over, I recognized that I was on Hampstead Heath, the big green lung of London. I had no idea how I got there. Whatever had happened the previous night had left me utterly disorientated and confused. Little did I know that worse was to come.

Just before Earl’s funeral, something prompted me to check his body. I found the coffin hadn’t yet been screwed down, so I looked inside and, to my horror, the body inside the coffin wasn’t Earl’s. I shut my eyes, then opened them again. I wasn’t seeing things; it definitely was not Earl. After the service, I mentioned this to a couple of Earl’s closest friends, but they said I was seeing things and that I should forget it.

Maybe I was hallucinating, I thought. Deep down, however, I now know what I saw. Various indicators over subsequent years have led me to believe that, when Earl sailed down the River

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of Destiny with Papa Legba, he bodily left this earth for infinity, and now exists somewhere in the multidimensional vastness that is existence. But rather than just disappear, Earl faked his death so as to create a resolution here on earth and to leave his affairs in order. I feel sure he had this planned for a long time. Now Earl is a Voodoo spirit who soars into the dreams of sorcerers and brings them knowledge of the strangeness that lies beyond our senses.

T R A NSCEN DENCE

New World spirituality - Voodoo, Santeria and Macumba - offers a powerful road to spiritual transcendence. The best way to access this is to call the Voodoo spirit Papa Legba, known in Santeria and Macumba as “Eshu”. To do this, place nine or more candles on your altar and perform a cleansing ritual. As usual, enter a mild trance, then stare into the crystal ball, uttering the invocation of Papa Legba: “Papa Legba, open the gate. Legba who sits on the gate, Give us the right to pass into The spirit world.”

But don’t worry too much about what words you say. Just try and be familiar and friendly, so that in the end it becomes quite natural to talk out loud, despite the fact that you are seemingly alone in your room. At some stage, you may well see something unusual appear in your crystal ball. If this occurs, follow it with your imagination. Using this method, you will eventually encounter Papa Legba, lord of the crossroads and opener of the gates. If you approach him with respect, and pass various tests he will likely set you, then you will be granted entrance into the spirit world. It is then a matter of destiny whether, in the long run, you achieve spiritual transcendence. There are no guarantees - but, take heart, the path is a noble one.

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PA PA LEGB A

The most important loa (spirit) in Voodoo is Legba. He is the guardian of the sacred gateway between the mortal and the divine world. It is Legba who opens the channels of communication between humans and the loa. But he must be saluted and acknowledged at the outset of any ritual, if this is to be accomplished. Therefore the priest or priestess will call: “Papa Legba, open the gate. Legba, who sits on the gate, give us the right to pass (into the spirit world).” Legba is also known as the Master of the Crossroads because the earthly crossroads is symbolic of the meeting of the material and spiritual worlds. Sorcerers pay homage to Legba at the crossroads and he in turn presides over their incantations and spells. In fact, many magic formulae begin with the words: “By thy power, Master of the Crossroads.” Legba is also the divine trickster, a capricious spirit who is both feared and loved because he can be either malevolent or benevolent, usually on a whim.

T R ICK S T ER (SLIGH T R E T U R N)

Now my tale is coming to a close, I’d like to conclude with a story Earl told me. He heard it long ago in Mississippi and it involves the irrepressible Rabbit.

Rabbit was the smartest animal in the woods; but he wasn’t satisfied. So he went to the king and asked for more sense. The king said he must bring him peas from a man’s garden. Rabbit carefully cut a board off the man’s garden fence, collected a bag of peas, and took them to the king. The king said that Rabbit was pretty smart, but that he should now bring him a buzzard’s tail feather. Rabbit had a fox play dead, and when the buzzard, who was the undertaker in those parts, tried to carry it home, Rabbit snuck up and pulled out a handful of tail feathers. He took them to the king, who then told him he must bring a rattlesnake’s poison fangs. Rabbit took a ball of sweetgum and covered it with partridge feathers. He tied it to a string and dragged it past a rattlesnake’s home. Thinking it was a little partridge, that rattlesnake 192

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bit it, and its teeth stuck in the gum and wouldn’t come loose. Rabbit told the rattlesnake that the only way to get loose was to break its teeth. Desperate to get free, the rattlesnake agreed. So Rabbit broke its teeth and took the ball of sweetgum, along with the teeth, to the king. “Here’s no use in you asking for more sense,” said the king. “I just am not going to give you more—you have too much already!” Like Rabbit, all Hoodoo doctors have a thirst for knowledge and wisdom; but maybe the mark of a true sorcerer is the ability to simply rest and wait, and listen to the whispers of the spirit, as it weaves its way around the edge of forever. In other words, every one of us has all the knowledge and wisdom we need inside, from the very day we are born. We just have to be still and listen to access it.

May luck and happiness be yours. Doktor Snake The Upside‑Down Man

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VOODOO WAR

2015 saw us involved in a Voodoo war. It wasn’t something we welcomed. We had no choice. It was a case of honor and loyalty. It all began with a phone call from a lady called Marita. She’d been a good friend of Earl Marlowe’s when she was young. Now in her early fifties, she had a problem on her hands. Her daughter Yolanda had got involved with a nasty piece of work—a drug dealer who called himself Black Wolf. “Yolanda has fallen for this guy big time,” she told me. “But I’m certain there’s more to it than that. He’s got some shady people working for him that are into witchcraft. And I think he’s had something put on her.” Marita told me Yolanda used to be fun-loving and outgoing, and had big dreams of making a difference in the world, but since her involvement with Black Wolf she had become withdrawn from her family and friends, and seemed to have given up on her dreams.

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Only 12 months before, my daughter Imogen had inked a tattoo for Yolanda—from one of Imogen’s own designs called “Way Of All-Flesh.”

During the tattoo session Imogen had explained to Yolanda, “We all go the way of all flesh and rot. There’s no escaping it. But the thing is we can all too easily ‘rot’ before our time, become cynical, and give up on our dreams. The tattoo is to remind you never to do that. It will be a symbol of your determination.” Imogen embedded sigils of power within the tattoo, which Yolande could activate at a time of dire need. While inking the sigils Imogen had intoned a chant in Unknown Tongues, the language of the spirits and the subconscious.

Yolanda loved the tattoo, the meaning behind it, and the idea of the sigils embedded into the design. She was adamant that she would never give up on her dreams. But sadly, it seemed, that only a year later those dreams had been forgotten…

Yolanda had fallen in with Black Wolf after meeting him at a nightclub in London’s West End. He had money and charm, and people seemed to respect him. In truth, they feared him. But Yolanda didn’t see that. She saw what she wanted to see. Black Wolf would drive her around in his black BMW 7 Series, R&B pumping from the sound system. He bought her clothes and jewelry, and wined her and dined her at the best joints in town.

When Yolanda introduced Black Wolf to Marita, she immediately knew he was a bad sort. “That guy was too showy, and there was a coldness in his eyes,” she told me. “It was obvious he didn’t run a legitimate business and was into something shady. But Yolanda just didn’t see it.” Marita’s warnings had been ignored and soon mother and daughter began to fall out. It wan’t long before Yolanda had moved in with Black Wolf.

“She used to tell me everything,” Marita said tearfully, “now we hardly talk.” She thought witchcraft had been used on Yolanda. 19 6

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In my view it was Yolanda’s choice. And it’s not uncommon for a relationship to cause bad feeling in families, especially when a parent feels protective towards a daughter. As for witchcraft, the way I saw it was, love is its own enchantment, and you can’t exactly pick and choose who it is that “enchants” you. It comes out of the blue like a lightning bolt. Black Wolf might not have been ideal, but he was the one Yolanda had fallen for. I said as much to Marita, But I promised her I’d look into it and do what I could to make sure Yolanda was OK. She just said: “You mark my words, Doc, Black Wolf will be the death of my Yolanda.” I called my voodoo brother, Professor Crow, and asked him to look into it. Part of the Prof ’s manor is in East London, not far from where Black Wolf is based. So I thought if he sniffed around we’d get some solid intel. A few days later Prof got back. With a deep sigh, he said: “I’m hearin’ bad things on the ground about that miserable low-life Black Wolf. For starters, he got a freaky motherfucker called Sheik Isaiah on his payroll. Bad ass conjure worker that calls up black jinns just to jerk him off for diabolic kicks.” Prof went on to relate rumors that Black Wolf was one of the UK’s major drug traffickers, and that Sheik Isaiah had performed rites of sacrifice to keep the cops off of Black Wolf ’s back. Heavy stuff. And not something we’d want to involve ourselves in. And besides, we love animals and despise those that practice sacrifice. But as Prof said, “We haven’t gotta choice. One of our own is embroiled in this shit and we have to get her out.” He was right. I owed it to Earl Marlowe on account of his friendship with Marita. And Prof ’s voodoo master had been in the same circle as Earl. So we both felt it a matter of honor to do all we could. Fight to the death if need be. After hanging up the phone to Prof, I climbed on my motorcycle, kicked the beast into first gear, and sped off to visit Imogen who was working on some Manga tattoos for a member of a prominent dance/rap music duo. She took a break from inking and we holed up in a cafe in Kings Cross. 197

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I asked her if she’d seen Yolanda lately.

“She doesn’t answer messages much,” she said “but I did see Yolanda for a coffee the other week. She said she’d been really busy, and that her and Black Wolf were getting on great. Didn’t ring true, though. Plus she looked wasted and very nervous. Made me think she’d got into drugs.” Imogen said that after she and Yolanda had chatted for a while she did start to open up.

Yolanda had told her: “To be honest, I think I’m out of my depth. I’m afraid of Black Wolf ’s friend, Sheik Isaiah, he’s sinister and scary, and is always staring at me.

“And the other night, when Black Wolf was out till late I had a dream that I was in an ancient church, and Sheik Isaiah was there pointing a bone at me—it was like a witch doctor was trying to steal my soul.

“When I woke up, I was covered in mosquito bites, but there wasn’t any insects in the room. And then I went to the bathroom and didn’t lock the door, but when I tried to get out it was locked and I couldn’t get it to open. It freaked me out. Then I heard these squealing noises like a pig, and I had the feeling something was coming for me...something bad...and it was always watching me. “Finally I got the door open but when I looked around, I couldn’t find anything that could have made those horrible noises. So I got back into bed, but then I felt these terrible spasms going through my body, and pains in my arms and feet. It was like a creature was inside me, like a lizard...”

Yolande’s story was interupted by some guy stepping into the coffee shop: “Yolande,” he said. “Over here…” “She left in a hurry,” recalled Imogen, “and she looked really scared.”

t There was no doubt about it in my mind. Something needed to be done. So I gathered the rest of the troops together. The Prof and Imogen were already in. But I also called in Poe, a business guy, and a skilled sailor and follower of the samurai Bushido code. (He got his nickname “Poe” due to being a big fan since boyhood of horror writer Edgar Allen Poe.) 19 8

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We might not have been many. But we were a force to be reckoned with. We were holed up at the Red Lodge transport cafe near Bury St. Edmunds, which often serves as our command center. It’s full of truckers and bikers, along with a handful of tourists. Nobody bothers you or gives you a second glance, and the food, while basic, is exactly what you need when you are out on the road. Traditional transport cafes are few and far-between in the UK these days. So the Red Lodge has become something of a homage to the past before everything became sanitized and fake. After a breakfast of bacon and eggs, and strong tea (or in the Prof ’s case: tea with additional bourbon), I called the meeting to order. “What we need to do is spring Yolanda out of the Black Wolf ’s lair,” I said. Everyone nodded in agreement. “Naturally this is going to be far from easy,” I said. “Black Wolf and his crew are heavy and ruthless. Plus they’ve got strength in numbers. So the way I see it is we will have to use stealth, get in by the back door, and spirit Yolanda away before anybody notices. Again, not easy. Black Wolf watches her every move.” “Agreed,” said the Prof. “My big worry is Sheik Isaiah. That scumbag is bound to have a trick or two up his grimy sleeve.” I nodded and said: “That’s where you come in. Fight fire with fire. Unleash some heavy sorcery against the Sheik?” “Yep,” said the Prof, “call up the meanest, most bad-ass spirits from my granddaddy’s old grimoire. Set that Sheik screaming! And run a halo of protection around us.” “We’re going to need it,” I said. “Black Wolf fights dirty.” Prof had looked into Black Wolf ’s operation and was certain he’d got Yolanda more-or-less imprisoned at his HQ in Hackney, East London, a warehouse-come-dwelling-place backing on to the River Lea. It was a fortress. But I had a plan.

“What we need to do is enter the place from the river,” I said. “Black Wolf and his team won’t expect that. And that’s where you come in, Poe. We need you to take your sailboat down

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the River Lea. Take Prof along and spring Yolanda, while I cause a distraction at the front of the building.”

“Wait one hot fucking minute,” spluttered Prof over a mouthful of hot tea mixed with bourbon. “No way I’m getting on that rickety old sailboat Poe sails. He near drowned us both last time!” Poe laughed, “I think that was down to you Prof,” he said. “Too much bourbon. But we’ve got a new moon coming up which means it will be nice and dark, and there will be a spring tide making the current stronger.”

Once Yolanda was sprung, the plan was for Poe and Prof to take her up river and get her to a safe place (Poe’s boathouse in Hertfordshire), where Imogen would look to helping her sort her life out.

The main downside of the plan was that, with me creating the distraction at the front of the stronghold, Black Wolf would know who had freed Yolanda from his thrall—and this was guaranteed to cause an all-out war. At the very least it would make me a prime target for his wrath. But I decided I’d worry about that later.

t Three days after our meeting at the Red Lodge, under a new moon, Poe and Professor Crow were sailing down the River Lea in Hertfordshire en route to London and Black Wolf ’s stronghold. Poe handled the tiller and sails with his usual skill and expertise; the water was his natural habitat. Not so for the Prof, who was looking decidedly uneasy as he slurped every-so-often from a bottle of Jim Beam.

The Prof lit up a cigar, looked into the river, grimaced, then said: “I’m relying on you to keep us outta da drink. Big, nasty croc s’pose to be living on the River Lea. They say that critter swallowed up Canada geese and cygnets. Dragged ’em under in seconds.”

Poe laughed. “If the stories are true,” he said, “it’s more likely a Wels Catfish not a crocodile. Small numbers of them do live on the Thames and its tributaries.” “Whatever it is, I don’t plan on meetin’ it,” said Prof grumpily. 200

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After sailing past Ware and Stanstead Abbots, Poe moored the sail-boat close to a wooded area, and the two disembarked. Prof carrying his doctor’s bag full of dark and arcane conjure items. They trooped over to a clearing in the woods, and Prof began setting up his ritual area. “Gonna be calling up some black spirits,” he told Poe. “Nasty motherfuckers, but ain’t nothin’ to be afeared of so long as you got liquor and cigars to appease ’em.” Poe is a natural skeptic, but it always sends a shiver down his spine when the Prof gets into action with his conjure work. “I’ll sit over here on this log,” said Poe uneasily. “You do that,” replied Prof. “An’ if dem spirits gets the better o’ me you better run, and don’t look back. Don’t want ’em followin’ you home.” With that Prof placed nine empty food cans in a wide triangle. He then stuffed rags into each of the cans and doused them in vegetable oil. Next he pulled out his Zippo lighter and lit each of the rags in turn. Soon the whole area lit up. He then pulled out a skull and placed it at the apex of the triangle of light. It was a makeshift ritual area. Candles are no use outside if there is any hint of a breeze (which there always is). Cans with rags doused in oil make an ideal replacement. While Poe looked on, the Prof stood in the center of the triangle of light, and began the process of conjuring the spirit from the skull. First he began to sway and chant in a strange tongue until he started to shake, first his arms, then his legs, then his whole body. Shaking is one of the most powerful aspects of sorcery. Yet it’s hardly ever talked about. But shamans have done it going back to antiquity. And it was central to the religious practices of the early Shakers and Quakers, as highlighted by the very names these groups called themselves. As a form of meditation it beats hands-down anything found in Yoga or so-called Mindfulness. And if you ever find yourself in a state of shock after an incident, you will benefit hugely from “shaking it out” (it’s what animals do after the shock of escaping a predator). After about ten minutes of shaking, the Prof fell to the ground and went quiet. He had entered the gates to the etheric plane and was walking the crystalline pinpoint between the worlds. Poe noticed a strange, death-like chill come over the wooded area. He really wished he 2 01

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wasn’t there. Prof ’s methods were scary. But Poe knew that, whatever “spiritual” mumbo jumbo it was Prof practiced, it seemed to bring results that couldn’t easily be explained. Next thing, Prof ’s prone body started jerking as if he was having an epileptic fit. Every now and then he let out a blood-curdling scream. And then it all seemed to stop, and the Prof slowly heaved himself up onto his feet, and put out the fires in the cans, one by one. Poe noticed the eerie chill in the air lift, and he breathed a sigh of relief that the proceedings were over. He didn’t care for this spooky side of Prof. He liked him well-enough, even his cantankerous side, and besides he saw Prof as a brother, but considered he walked a very dark spiritual path, a far cry from the sanitized systems of spirituality and magic around today. But that was good. Prof got things done. Once Prof had got over the disorientating state produced by his ritual, he said to Poe: “Spirits tole me Yolanda’s spirit is trapped in limbo, her soul been stolen—the work of that mofo Sheik Isaiah. But if we can free her from Black Wolf ’s lair we can get young Imogen to reactivate that tattoo she inked on Yolanda an’ recover her spirit, ‘long with fixin’ up a spiritual forcefield around her soul matrix. Then we can look at hittin’ the Sheik with confounding conjure, root his evil ways for good.” As the two climbed back aboard the sailboat, Prof added, “I also fixed up a halo of protection ’round us. Should put luck on our side and stop the Sheik from divinin’ what we are up to.” With that, Poe set sail, hand on the tiller, while the Prof took a few almighty slugs from his bottle of Jim Beam.

t Meanwhile, I was rolling down the A10 into London on my Suzuki GSX 600 F, which I’d turned into a low-rider bobber or “rat bike” by chopping it and spraying it matt black and fitting straight bars and loud straight-through exhaust – making me sound like one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse when thundering up behind anyone. I shifted down to third as I headed through Edmonton and Tottenham recalling the times, back in the day, when Earl Marlowe and I did our conjure work around North London, usually riding motorcycles. 2 02

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I wished Earl was still around to help us this night. Things were very likely to get hairy. There was little doubt about that. I pulled into a side-road, switched off the bike’s engine, then pulled out my phone and called Poe. “I’m about 20 minutes away from Black Wolf ’s HQ ,” I told him. “What’s your ETA?” “We’re almost there,” said Poe. “The back of the warehouse is in sight, and no-one is likely to see us as I’ve lowered the sails, and we’re about to moor up close by.” So long as Poe didn’t run the motor, the sailboat offered stealth and a reasonable getaway if he and Prof managed to free Yolanda. Everything was going to plan, so I fired up the bike’s engine and got back on the main drag. The traffic wasn’t too heavy as I putted down through Stoke Newington, then eastwards into Hackney. Soon I pulled into a parking lot in front of Black Wolf ’s HQ: a darkly-lit warehouse. I could see security cameras so was pretty sure his crew would immediately be aware of my presence. I put the bobber into neutral, kept my helmet on, and left the engine running ready for a fast exit. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves, and waited, knowing that somebody would come out shortly to see who I was and what I wanted. I didn’t have to wait long. Out of the front double-doors of the warehouse came Black Wolf—a powerfully-built, slightly Latin-looking African. He was flanked on either side by four members of his crew, all of whom were burly and covered in tattoos. Staying behind them in the shadows was an older, grizzled guy with glyph-like tattoos across his face and holding a long wooden stick with symbols carved on it. I assumed that this was Sheik Isaiah. Black Wolf fixed a stony gaze on me, and asked in oddly archaic patrician tones, “To whom do I owe the pleasure?” “I’m Doktor Snake,” I replied. “Most people call me ‘Doc. I’m here on behalf of Yolanda’s mother, Marita. And I’m here to parlay peacefully. Marita is naturally concerned about her daughter’s well-being. She’d like to know that she’s OK, and ideally to see her...” Black Wolf raised his hand to silence me. I had to give it to him, he had presence and came across as formidable as I would have imagined the infamous warlord Genghis Khan would have been. 2 03

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“I do know your name,” said Black Wolf. “You’re a notable voodoo man and in other circumstances we may have had much to discuss. But let me be clear, when it comes to Yolanda, there is nothing to discuss. She has chosen her path. She has disowned her family. And we are her family now.” “We both know that’s not true,” I said. “Sure, she fell for you in the first instance. But now it’s drugs that are keeping her dependent on you, that and being voodoo’d by the Sheik over there.” A menacing grimace came over Black Wolf ’s face. I placed my left foot over my bike’s gear lever in case things turned nasty and I had to make a quick getaway. “Sheik Isaiah prophesied that the Wolf would come into conflict with the Snake,” Black Wolf said between gritted teeth. “But he also predicted that the Wolf would devour the Snake.” “Like all low-rent fortune tellers,” I said, “he’s just telling you what you want to hear.” Black Wolf didn’t like that, and judging by Sheik Isaiah’s face, he didn’t either. Black Wolf moved closer towards me and said: “What’s to stop us trashing you and your bike right here, right now?” As Black Wolf ’s crew edged forward there was a ping from my phone, which meant Poe and the Prof had sprung Yolanda and had set sail up river. I quickly kicked my bike into gear, opened the throttle, and gunned out of the warehouse’s parking lot with Black Wolf shouting “Get him!!!” I half-expected to hear gunshots. But this is not likely to happen in the UK due to the stringent gun laws—you’d get a police armed-response unit down on you in minutes. That said, I needed to get out of London as fast as possible as Black Wolf and his crew would soon discover that Yolanda was gone, and would hop into their BMWs in pursuit. So the sooner I was off their radar the better. I blasted the motorcycle up the A10 through Tottenham and Edmonton, then took some B roads and lanes to ensure there was no chance of Black Wolf and his crew catching up with me. Black Wolf would likely know I was based in East Anglia rather than London, and would gun up the A10 in the hope of tracking me down. Problem was he’d also put his feelers out to locate my main HQ and other premises I used. 204

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Basically, springing Yolanda had started a war, and we needed to be prepared to fight it and win.

With my headlamps on full beam I rode through the rural areas of Hertfordshire just outside London, and eventually pulled into a little lane that led to Poe’s boathouse, not far from Ware. Lights were on inside, and I noticed Poe’s sailboat moored up. For speed, I guessed Poe had run his electric motor to get them up-river faster. I took off my helmet and gloves and went inside the boathouse. Everybody was there - Prof relaxing with a cigar and a bottle of Bud, Poe putting away his various items of boat gear. Imogen was in a corner of the room with Yolanda who looked wasted, either from drugs or bad voodoo, or both. Prof offered a “V” for victory salute, and Poe gave the thumbs up. “We did it,” he said.

“Good work all round,” I said, “but it’s far from over. Black Wolf is not going to take this lying down. It’s going to be all-out war, and we need to be prepared.”

I wasn’t wrong. Only an hour or so later my phone rang. It was Black Wolf (he’d obviously got my number from the internet). His message was terse and to the point. “We’re going to crush you,” he said and hung up.

Moments later the lights began to flicker, then went out. Poe found some candles and lit them. “Power outage,” he said. “Maybe...” said Prof.

Just then there was an eerie scratching at the door. We all looked at each other. I grabbed an iron bar which I’d stashed at the boathouse. “Could be a stray dog after food and company,” I said. “Or the work of Sheik Isaiah...” said Prof ominously.

Either way, I went over to the door and threw it open, my bar at the ready...but there was nothing there. I looked around outside. Still nothing... At that moment, to our relief, the lights came back on.

“It may be coincidence,” I said, “but I think we need to assume that Black Wolf will be out to get us on multiple levels—physically and on the magical plane.”

With that we got down to making plans. I could see no other choice but to force a showdown, ideally at a “place of power” that we knew. I suggested the Gog Magog Downs, a range of 2 05

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chalk hills running several miles to the south-east of Cambridge (an area inhabited as far back as Bronze Age times, but abandoned by late Saxon times). The dowser and archaeologist Tom Lethbridge claimed to have found some ancient figures buried in the chalk under the surface of the hills. These, he said, represented a sun god, moon goddess and warrior god. All this suggested the area was likely considered sacred in ancient times, and so it fitted the bill as a “place of power.” One thing was for sure, we’d have the gods and ghosts of yore, the ancestors of our land, on our side. Ours was an old rural sorcery, whereas Black Wolf and Sheik Isaiah’s was a tainted form of urban magic, born of polluted, corporate and consumer culture that makes up our current age of lies.

So it seemed to me we should entice Black Wolf out of London into the wild countryside, and take him on there. Both Prof and Poe agreed. We set about formulating our strategy.

t The following day, Imogen took Yolanda up to Bury St. Edmunds, a picturesque town in the heart of Suffolk, where Marita joined them, relieved to see her daughter again. They were holed up in a comfortable apartment not far from the medieval abbey of St. Edmund. Yolanda was slouched on a couch, listless and still very much out of it.

“Do we need to call a doctor?” said Marita.

“Possibly,” said Imogen. “But first I need to activate the sigils I embedded in the tattoo I did for her, that should recover her life force and spirit. Medical doctors aren’t a lot of use when it comes to spiritual illness. We use only use them in a last resort.”

Imogen picked up her bag and pulled out her conjure rod, a short painted stick covered in glyphs and sigils. She held it over Yolanda and intoned a chant in Unknown Tongues, calling on the ancestors that reside on the etheric plane. She circled the conjure rod around the outline of the “Way of All Flesh” tattoo she’d inked a year ago on Yolanda’s shoulder.

Soon Yolanda felt a warm tingling run through her arm, which was a sign of the life force flowing. She opened her eyes, which began to show a spark of the intangible energy that makes 206

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us alive. Yolanda heaved a sigh, refreshing her lungs with the breath of life, and said, “Oh God, it’s like I’m coming round from a bad hangover...” “Well, you lost it for a long time,” said Imogen. “And now it’s about finding your dreams again, and bringing back your spirit.” “I made a big mistake with Black Wolf, didn’t I?” said Yolanda. “We all make mistakes,” said Imogen. “The secret is to always be true to yourself and never give up your vital spirit. But it’s understandable. You fell for Black Wolf and he just happened to be a bad guy, one of the worst kind. And what with Sheik Isaiah’s freakish sorcery, you weren’t in a good position to see things clearly.” Over the next few days, Yolanda improved immensely, and with Imogen’s help, got herself back on track. But Black Wolf was still an ever-present threat. And it was down to me, Prof and Poe to stop him in his tracks...

t I texted Black Wolf and suggested we sort our differences out, peacefully, at a neutral location. The Gog Magog Downs fitting the bill as it has a public carpark and is used regularly by walkers and ramblers. And it would just be a question of meeting in a more remote part of the Gog Magogs so we wouldn’t be disturbed by the civilian classes. Maybe just say meet in remote part of Gog magogs? Black Wolf texted back saying he and Sheik Isaiah and two of his crew would meet us. So I sent back an Ordnance Survey map location saying “be there at midnight.” I knew full well that Black Wolf would have no intention of sorting our differences out peacefully. But there was little choice but to get this done, and we’d wing it as best we could. It took about an hour to get over to Cambridge. With Poe riding shotgun, Prof was at the wheel of his trusty mid-1960s Rover P4, all black with smoked-glass windows, while I kept pace behind them on my motorcycle. We took the bypass towards Cherry Hinton, with the lights of Cambridge to the west, then motored over to the Gog Magog Hills. 2 07

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We arrived at the public car park. I hauled my bike up on the centerstand, took my gloves and helmet off, and went over to Poe and Prof, who were unloading items from the BMW. Prof had his conjure doctor’s bag and Poe had his martial arts stick as a deterrent against trouble. As for me, I’d be relying on luck, and if it came to it, my row of chunky silver rings on all my fingers—in the UK a “legal” knuckleduster. (It was Earl who first put me onto this. He said, “Britain ain’t Arizona, law won’t let us carry guns if we run into trouble, all we can do is even up the odds the best we can.”) I took a final look over at my bike and hoped I’d be riding it away from here that night... Prof said, “OK, boys, we might be all too old for this, but it’s time to kick some ass!”

With that, we trudged over the dark hills of the Gog Magogs. All was quiet when we got to the meet-point. We’d checked for potential ambush, but there was no sign of Black Wolf and his crew. So we waited quietly, listening for any sound of our adversary approaching.

I took a hit from my vape pipe, blew out a big cloud of vapor, and saw some movement at a clump of nearby trees. “Here they come,” I whispered.

Soon Black Wolf, Sheik Isaiah, and two of his crew, were facing us, decked out for war. His two foot-soldiers were wielding chains, Black Wolf clutched a baseball bat, and the Sheik had his JuJu staff and, like Prof, a bag of sorcery artifacts. I made the first move, “I see you come in peace, Black Wolf,” I said, nodding towards his baseball bat. “You never thought I would,” he said. “You knew it was war when you started it.”

I stepped forward, noticing Black Wolf ’s two henchmen tighten their grip on their chains. I didn’t relish this confrontation. Bottom line was it didn’t look like we’d be coming out of it unscathed, if we came out at all.

As a last ditch for conciliation, I said, “Look, we don’t have to do this. Yolanda wants out, and let’s face it, you’ve got the pick of women in your circle. Just accept that she’s gone, and we’ll all go our separate ways.” Black Wolf ’s face went hard and stony, and he said, “You invaded my space and stole my property...and be assured Yolanda is mine. And there is a price to pay for your audacity.”

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With that, he nodded to Sheik Isaiah who took his rootin’ bone out of his pocket and pointed it at Prof, then shrieked a weird, inhuman incantation. Prof winced and fell to his knees. Weird lights seemed to spark in the cool air. Poe and I held our ground, but Black Wolf ’s henchman backed off a little, clearly wary of the witchdoctor’s power. Prof reached into his conjure bag and pulled out macabre-looking wax ball with herbs and twigs sealed into it - a hex bomb - and hurled it at Sheik Isaiah, who fell backwards as if he’d been physically punched in the stomach. Eerie whispers echoed around the area and the dark shadows from the trees seemed to take on living forms. Prof ’s hex bomb had awoken the spirits of the landscape Just then Black Wolf breathed “Fuck this spiritual shit!” and charged at me with his baseball bat, while his henchmen went for Poe swinging’ their chains. I quickly dodged Black Wolf ’s assault, but took some of the force of his bat against my leg and tumbled to the ground. Next thing he leapt on me throwing a couple of heavy punches to my face and head. With an almighty effort I managed to throw him off, but was well-aware of his superior physical strength, and that fighting is incredibly fatiguing unlike on TV and in movies. You lose your strength in seconds, minutes if you are lucky... you realize that working out, even daily, doesn’t prepare you for physical combat. Nevertheless I managed to launch a heavy kick to Black Wolf ’s stomach, the impact of my weighty engineer motorcycle boots making him fall backwards, then hit him with a right hook, my chunky silver rings embedding in his jaw. Meanwhile Poe was holding off Black Wolf ’s henchmen, even though he’d taken a hit from one their chains to the side of his face and he was bleeding quite heavily. To the left of me, Prof was duelling magically with Sheik Isaiah. But now the Sheik had pulled a large knife and was moving towards Prof, determined to finish him off... Next thing I knew, Black Wolf was towering above me with his baseball bat, and his two henchmen, though they’d taken a beating, had got Poe on the ground and were about to lay into him with their chains. 209

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Right then I knew we were defeated and very likely wouldn’t get out without serious injuries, or worse. All I could do was reach within to the primal depths of my subconscious and call upon the atavisms that reside in that mysterious dream-like realm for help. It was a last ditch attempt to turn this conflict around. As I did so a strange calmness came upon me, despite the fact that Black Wolf was about to pummel me without mercy. Just then Black Wolf seemed to hesitate, like he’d seen something in my eyes—some image from the unseen world I was accessing. Out of nowhere came the roar of two motorcycles, strange, ghostly iron horses moving into the area of the fight. On one cycle was a black guy, on the other a biker with the look of a Viking warrior with graying long hair and beard. I thought I must be hallucinating after taking a swipe to the head from Black Wolf that I didn’t know about - because there was no doubt about it, the black man was Earl Marlowe, and the “Viking warrior” was his old biker friend Johnny Redstone...back from the dead. It was a ghostly vision. But clearly everybody saw it. Sheik Isaiah, Black Wolf and his two henchmen backed away. “What the fuck is this?!” growled Black Wolf. In that moment of hesitation, Poe, a martial arts expert, swung his stick taking down both the henchmen and Black Wolf himself, leaving them stunned on the ground. I ran over to Black Wolf and tore off his expensive gold wolf pendant which would be taken as a sign of defeat, and one he would not easily live down. I pocketed the pendant for safekeeping knowing I could use it against Black Wolf as proof that he and his crew had been taken down. Prof marched up to Sheik Isaiah and grabbed the knife out of his hand, then almost instantly threw a heavy punch right in his face, knocking him backwards. “You’re nothing but a two-bit snake oil motherfucker,” he hissed between gritted teeth. Battered and bruised, I grabbed Poe and Prof and said, “We need to leave fast...” Before sprinting for the carpark, I took a look back but there was no sign of the two motorcycles. The ghostly riders had disappeared. But Black Wolf and his crew were getting to their feet, screaming curses at us, so we made our escape as fast as we could. 210

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Once we got to the carpark, Prof and Poe leapt into the BMW, while I donned my helmet and gloves and fired my bike to life. We gunned out of the car park and made for the A11 pushing our vehicles to 90mph once we hit the main drag. As I rode my bike under the neon lights of the A11 I mused on the events of the night. Clearly Black Wolf would be incensed at having been defeated by us and would want to get us at all costs. But because I’d got his gold wolf pendant he would know that I could destroy his reputation if I showed it to rival organizations in his world - and his rep would go up in smoke. Plus I felt that the appearance of the two ghostly riders would have freaked out Sheik Isaiah, and probably, if the truth be known, Black Wolf too. They’d had victory in their sights but it had been taken from them by forces unknown... So I wasn’t surprised when I received a text from Black Wolf the following day, saying: “OK, let’s say we call it quits? You don’t come near me, and I don’t come near you...ever.” I texted back, “Deal,” and that proved to be that. Black Wolf desperately needed to keep his reputation intact and wasn’t going to take action that would jeopardize it. The good thing was Yolanda had got her spirit back and was reunited with her mother, and we’d honored my loyalty to Earl Marlowe... whose ghostly specter had seemingly saved the day, though I still felt bewildered by the apparition and half wondered if it had been some form of bizarre hallucination. But that’s often the case with sorcery; you find your conscious mind reeling from the unexplained.

t A couple of weeks later, as the sun was setting, I was putting along the A11 on my motorcycle and I pulled in at the towering war memorial at the side of an open stretch of road not far from Elveden in Norfolk. I shut off the engine, took off my helmet and gloves, and soaked up the warming rays of the sun while toking on my vape pipe.

My reverie was broken by the deep rumble of two motorcycles pulling into the side of the road where I was parked. Two bikers, with long flowing gray hair, mirror shades and goatee 211

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beards, one on a custom Triumph TR6C, the other on a Harley chopper. They nodded to me. Neither shut down their engines or took their helmets off. One of them pulled a thick notebook out of his messenger bag and said, “I was told to give this to you.” With that, the two gunned their engines and rode off into the sunset.

I opened the notebook and it was filled with an angular scrawl that I recognized - Earl Marlowe’s handwriting... As I leafed through it I saw that it was a book of life wisdom undoubtedly by Earl himself. I knew he used to keep a notebook in which he recorded his deepest thoughts and musings about life. But after he passed on we never found it. I presumed he’d disposed or it, even burned it.

The question was: Who were the two bikers who gave it to me? I hadn’t recognized either. And more to the point how could they have known where I was? Had they been following me and I hadn’t noticed them in my mirrors? I didn’t think so as, if you are a motorcyclist yourself, you tend to notice other bikers, and give them a nod or wave on the road. Given the ghostly experience we’d had at our confrontation with Black Wolf, I began to wonder if the two bikers were part of some ghostly troupe associated with Earl and Johnny Redstone in the otherworld of separate reality. Maybe they were part of a modern day version of the “wild hunt” led by the old Saxon magician/warrior god Woden that, according to legend, rode the desolate parts of the countryside on horses. Whatever the truth of it, I had Earl’s book of wisdom, and somehow I felt it was connected to us doing the honorable thing and helping out Yolanda in her time of need.

Without further ado, I got back on my bike, put on my gloves and helmet, gunned the engine to life, and cruised up the A11 towards Norwich. As I rode, some of the words I’d just read in Earl’s notebook flowed through my mind:

“All is illusion and reality is what you make it. You are the captain of your mental ship, and you are the only one at the helm. But you have the wheel and you can steer your ship through terrible tempests in life towards temperament currents...but only you can do this. Whatever happens in life is your creation. Shit happens. But it is how you deal with it that matters. The greatest conjurer is you. You create your world and your life. Always remember to keep a firm grip on the wheel and never waver from your course once you’ve found it.”

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APPENDI X

Further Reading The Bluesman, Julio Finn. Northampton, MA: Interlink Publishing Group, 1998. If you want the real low‑down on the blues, read this book. Finn, a bluesman himself, shows how Voodoo and Hoodoo were central to the development of blues. He also provides an in‑depth analysis of the Robert Johnson legend. Hoodoo - Conjuration - Witchcraft - Rootwork, Harry M. Hyatt. Self‑published, 1978. Although currently out of print, copies can be picked up. It is a huge five‑volume collection of folkloric material gathered by Hyatt in the southern states of America between 1936 and 1940. It contains over 13,000 separate magic spells and folkloric beliefs, plus lengthy interviews with professional root doctors, conjuror and Hoodoos. Legends of Incense, Herb and Oil Magic, Lewis de Claremont. Texas: Dorene Publishing, 1966. A strong influence on twentieth‑century Hoodoo practices, this collection presents information about the basics of magical spell work involving roots, herbs, talismans, sachets, oils and incense. Mules and Men, Zora Neale Hurston. New York, London: Harper Perennial, 1990. Hurston (1891‑1960) was a novelist; folklorist and anthropologist, whose fictional and factual accounts of black heritage are unparalleled. This is a collection of wonderful folk tales, drawn from the southern states of America. It also has an extensive and fascinating section on Hoodoo - Hurston was actually instructed in the art of conjure by a number of Hoodoo doctors. 213

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Papa Jim’s Spellbook, James E. Sickafus. San Antonio, Texas: Papa Jim, 1997. Top class information on the practice of magic in the Voodoo, Hoodoo and Santeria traditions. Papa Jim also runs a spiritual supply store (See Suppliers) Voodoo and Hoodoo, Jim Haskins. New York: Original Publications, 1990. A collection of southern states conjure lore observed by the author during the 1960s and 70s. Haskins is a top black American journalist and writer, and this book is a must for anyone interested in the roots and contemporary practice of Hoodoo. Black & White Magic of Marie Laveau, Original Publications, 1994. Very likely not actually written by famed New Orleans Voodoo queen, Marie Laveau, but a valuable resource nonetheless if used with creativity and imagination.

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Suppliers All herbs, oils, roots, powders, mojo hands and Voodoo dolls mentioned in this book can be obtained from spiritual supply stores, known as botanicas. Books, audio tapes and CDs relating to Voodoo, Hoodoo and Santeria can also be obtained from these places. Here is a small selection of reputable stores. M A N DR A K E PR E S S Marsh Lane Farm, Marsh Lane, South Cockerington, Louth, LN11 7EQ UK Tel: 01844 260 990 Fax 01844 260 991 E‑mail: [email protected] Website: www.mandrake-press.co.uk B O TA N IC A E L E G UA 6995 Highway 6 South, Houston, TX 77083 US Tel: 713-660-6767 E-mail: [email protected] Website: www.botelegua.com

OR IGI N A L PRODUC T S 2486-88 Webster Avenue, Bronx, NY 10458, USA Tel: 718-367-9589 Website: www.originalbotanica.com W I SD OM PRODUC T S Website: www.wisdomproducts.com 1540 W. 6th St. Los Angeles, CA 90017, USA Tel: 213-413-7800

Music Tracks Here’s the music that inspired those involved in the creation of this new edition of my Voodoo Spellbook. D ok t or S n a k e

P oe

Bones - RestInPeace 2Pac feat Dr. Dre - California Love Public Enemy - Harder Than You Think Pablo Sandoz - Fleet Bleach OST - On The Precipice Of Defeat Lord Jamar - Original Man Bee Gees - Stayin’ Alive DJ Cosla & Tribeca - Battle Tested Guru - State Of Clarity Lou Rhodes - All We Are The Shamen - Ebenezer Goode The KLF - America: What Time Is Love

Thinking Black - Ike Turner and His Kings of Rhythm Do Wrong Right - The Devil Makes Three Ramble On - Led Zeppelin I Am The Cool - Screamin’ Jay Hawkins Hit ’em Up Style - Carolina Chocolate Drops Hot Summer Day - It’s A Beautiful Day I Got Loaded - Robert Cray Band Gotta Make it To Heaven - 50 Cent Earlybird - Eagles Ole Time Religion - BB King Dreaming of You - The Coral I’m Gonna Live Til I Die - Frank Sinatra

I mogen Shr eev e

P rof e ss or C row

Bones - WhereTheTreesMeetTheFreeway The Naked and Famous - Grow Old The Pillows - Beautiful Morning With You Paramore - Hallelujah AFI - Girl’s Not Grey Witcher 3 - Silver For Monsters Final Fantasy XV - Somnus Radwimps - Zen Zen Zense Final Fantasy VIII - Liberi Fatali Bones and Dylan Ross - The Ivy Grimes - Avi Koe No Katachi - Sunlight

Death Letter - Son House City Of Refuge - Blind Willie Johnson Shady Grove Blues - John Lee Hooker Sinner Man - Nina Simone (Thomas Crown Affair Mix) The Highwayman - The Highwaymen Time Of The Preacher - Willie Nelson The Man In Black - Johnny Cash The Gambler - Kenny Rogers Love Will Tear Us Apart - Joy Division Anarchy In The UK - The Sex Pistols Into My Arms - Nick Cave Perfect Day - Lou Read

About the Author Doktor Snake is a voodoo man from the eastside of paradise, where a hoodoo sun shines and a lucky mojorain falls. He’s the author of cult bestseller Doktor Snake’s Voodoo Spellbook and he provides voodoo spellcasting services to clients around the world. Doktor Snake grew up in London. Although a white man, he became a voodoo man after meeting a mysterious root doctor and singer from Trinidad called Earl Marlowe, whom Snake played guitar for in a band with during the 1980s. Besides music, the two would cast voodoo spells, and perform exorcisms and séances, for clients in London and other parts of the UK, and later the USA. Doktor Snake has been featured in the media, press and on TV all over the world and is acknowledged as one of the foremost authorities on selling your soul to the Devil at the crossroads. Today Doktor Snake divides his time between London, LA, and his country retreat on the eastside of paradise, where he cannot be reached by phone, fax or e-mail. Only true hoodoos know how to reach him there. Doktor Snake walks on the edge of forever and always pays heed to his dreams. Find Doc at: www.doktorsnake.com