Introducing An Idiot's Grimoire

Marginalia on applied metaphysics and related subjects.

I’ve been called worse.

Grimoires are some of the most fascinating artifacts in the canon of occultism.

As it turns out, modern heretics are suckers for sacred texts, almost as much as their mainstream-religionist counterparts. Only a relatively small collection of “authentic” grimoires have survived into modern times. Because they represent such a meager record of how things were done back in Ye Olden Tymes (combined with that pesky metaphysical conservatism) they’ve taken on the aura of Holy Writ for practicing sorcerers.

But that wasn’t always the case.

In spite of the awesome reputation they’ve developed over the centuries, most of these texts started out as practical handbooks for the personal use of their authors: part recipe book; part address book; part diary. Scribbled notes on exactly what was happening that one time when the weird thing happened, so the operator could replicate the procedure in the future. (Cratered short-term memory from chronic sleep deprivation and too many magic plants was a persistent occupational hazard, then as now.)

These notations were more like the dog-eared cookbooks in your kitchen than a NASA Flight Control Manual. The entry might say “Grandma’s Famous Meatloaf,” but nobody can remember if Grandma was actually the one who came up with the recipe—or, in fact, if anyone outside the family would recognize it as “famous,” let alone edible. Likewise, something like the Greek Magical Papyri is a palimpsest of different formulas that worked for somebody, somewhere, once upon a time, and proved reliable enough to retain for future use; a few of them were probably scrawled on the back of some Ancient Egyptian junk mail before being “officially” transcribed.

So while “grimoire” might sound very High Church to some people, they’ve always been working-class documents.

That’s the spirit (ha) I’m going for with this project. After a few years of reading and thinking about applied metaphysics (the nexus of magic-art-religion-mysticism-healing) I’ve cobbled together enough marginalia to summarize and pass along, in case it proves useful for someone else. I’ll scribble down my best reckons about whatever seems worthwhile at the time, and fire it off into the ether; contrary to the prevailing grindset of expensive workshops and paywalled eBooks, I believe this stuff should continue to be free and open-source.

In my case, the ideas might not be worth the paper they’re printed on—but at least they’ll be something for people to start test-driving for themselves, on their own time, without having to pay off some self-important grifter.

These entries might be of particular interest to those who read my piece on re-enchanting Halloween, and wanted to take the October Challenge described there: setting aside the Halloween season to push rationalism politely out the door, freeing up time and space for some metaphysical bumper-bowling. I’ve already had a few people ask me about the kinds of banishing, invocation, and divination mentioned in that essay; some of those questions should be answered here.

I haven’t gotten into the really Heavy Metal stuff (yet). I got kids here. If you’re worried about accidentally summoning Nyarlathotep, don’t worry—I’m not playing with that kind of fire.

Everything written under this banner will (hopefully) be relatively short, informal, and off-the-cuff. This is not my dissertation on a Unified Field Theory of Metaphysics—just a collection of observations that could potentially help someone move through the learning process a bit easier than I did.

Results may vary. User discretion is advised. None of this constitutes legal, financial, or medical advice. The reader agrees to Hold Harmless in the event of any flagrant stupidity on the part of the author.

Finally, a note on the use of the word “idiot”: I understand that this is one of today’s Bad Words, because it was adopted as a medical term for the developmentally disabled back in the Dark Ages of the 19th Century. Nevertheless, I’m using it here in the classical sense. In Ancient Greece, the word originally referred to a common person, outside of officialdom—maybe lacking some formal literacy, a bit provincial—but not necessarily unintelligent. Here, it’s used tongue-in-cheek, to highlight the lack of any pretense toward expertise. Don’t yell at me.

Future entries in this series will be posted in the Idiot’s Grimoire section. All current subscribers to Phasmatopia have been automatically added to this list. If you find it’s not your thing, you can unsubscribe by following these instructions.

Enjoy.