Friday, 30 October 2020

"The Craft: Legacy" review...

Some friends came by today for a viewing of "The Craft: Legacy", and I felt compelled to write a review of the film.  Why?  Because it is shockingly bad, and relevant to the theme of this blog.

I won't hold back - this is one of the worst films I have seen in a very long time, and even though I cheated and streamed it off a freebie site, I still was quite angry.  I am so glad we found it on a streaming site because I would have been livid if we had paid the rental fee for this thing.  Oh my GOD, it looked questionable based on the trailer, but the final cut is appalling.  Please do NOT waste your money on this, because it is a giant insult to the eyes.  Here's what I hated about it:

First of all, I can't imagine Wiccans are ever going to consider this a cult classic.  The first movie was both criticized and loved by witches, criticized for getting principles and effects in witchcraft wrong, inventing a false god (though I can understand why, to avoid a suit if some kid were to go off the rails invoking anything real), and perhaps for a few plot pieces that were slightly problematic, such as the subplot with Chris Hooker the douchebag boyfriend who Sarah Bailey for some reason crushes on, puts under a spell, which later leads him to his death due to Nancy Downs.  Not a perfect film, but a helluva good time that had edge, style, and a delightful meanness that was intrinsically 90s.  That movie was directed by men, which I guess bothered enough people that this one was chosen to be directed by a woman, a feminist, but it's so sanctimonious when it delivers any woke politics that I cringed with every piece of dialogue.  It forgets the rules of effective writing: show, don't tell.  Yes, it would be cool to be woke in a piece about teen witches, but one must weave that into the script correctly, or else your audience will rebel.  I felt almost beat over the head with a lecture while watching this at times, and desperately wanted to wash my mind of its sins with another viewing of the old movie, to take in the delightful cattiness of Fairuza and company, with girls who seemed to have far greater life problems than these underdeveloped characters do, ladies who we barely know anything about, and therefore aren't invested in.  (One girl is trans, played by a trans actress, and there's a line here or there that was done well to imply this about her, but a lot of other things seemed forced and I kind of felt like this film could take its well intentioned tone and shove it.)  While "Sucker Punch" is almost a badly done 3rd wave style feminist piece that also made me angry for its own reasons, this is bad 4th wave feminism.

It's also hokey as hell, but not in a campy way that I can enjoy.  These girls have crazy ass powers, peppered in silly looking CGI, where they can summon flames with their fingertips, glow brightly coloured auras, invoke anime fire orbs, freeze time, and it all felt low budget to me and inconsiderate of what the occult is truly like.  I don't get the sense that this will appeal to anyone except for those who are drawn to witchcraft as a clothing style, not as a serious spiritual path, because there is absolutely nothing here that you can take seriously.  You can't buy that any one of these four girls are developed enough as people to possess even the most basic grasp of magick, so how the hell do these bitches freeze time?!  It was silly enough in the original when the girls did the glamour spell that literally produced an effect leading to the false report of a plane crash on television - here, there's one of the worst film montages I have ever seen, where they pause time in a school lunchroom and frolic around like annoying little shits causing mischief.  Oh god, that montage was terrible, and also - this soft reboot robs so much from the original and it's done so badly that you absolutely can't forgive it.  Fuck it, I'll just say it - unlike the former, this movie has no balls.  Also, editing is sloppy and amateur looking at times, and the dialogue was insulting.

SPOILER: The only thing kind of worth watching, and yet not really, is at the very end where Nancy Downs makes an appearance, but she doesn't even get more than one line, and it means nothing - it's just a Fairuza Balk cameo.  David Duchovny is also in here, but he's this boring MRA type who is clearly the villain, and I just don't find him a good choice for the role.  Making the villain an MRA bro is so add water and stir that as soon as you hear that he's involved in some masculinity empowerment thing, earlier on in the film, you understand that he's the bad guy.  It's that dumb a plot.  Wait - it's barely a plot... it's a series of events that don't really amount to much, fumbling towards a conclusion that doesn't satisfy, it doesn't even amuse, it just enrages you if you spent any money to watch this.  I was angry, and I didn't even pay anything.

I imagine there will be jokes about how this movie is fitting for a year like 2020 - thank god "Bill and Ted Face the Music" was fun (I saw it with friends at a drive in) - also not brilliant cinema, but it was self aware cuteness that was a delightful ode to the original films.  "The Craft: Legacy" belongs at the bottom of a DVD bargain bin with a 99¢ sticker attached to it.  It was about as bad as the "Jem and the Holograms" movie... it was as insulting to the original as the "Neverending Story" sequel movies were to the first film.  My friends and I joked that there needs to be a geriatric witch girl movie - like "Golden Girls" meets "The Craft" original... see some cackling crones getting up to no good.  I would love something like that!  (Also terrible is the "Charmed" series, but that's kind of like a Wiccan soap opera and worth laughing at how appalling it is.  This is another level where you just get irritated no matter what.)

My tension headaches have been bad since that boot to the head - I have been applying liberal amounts of Vicks VapoRub to my temples, but no dice.  That stupid cunt - I hope she gets hers for this.  Honestly, I didn't provoke anything, I stood my ground instead of cowering or leaving, but it was only because I had to wait for my food.  Imbeciles.


Friday, 23 October 2020

Holy masochists, sacred queers, and other things...

(This article is sure to tick off members of the Roman Catholic Church, but I figured I would write it anyway, due to things I have been channeling about various saints and holy figures.)

St. Lawrence is considered one of the toughest martyrs in the church, because - while being roasted alive, he smirked and uttered: "Turn me over - I'm done on this side".  The church would likely argue that the Holy Spirit filled him with the power to withstand excruciating pain... but was there something else going on?

I have channeled many times over that the historical Jesus was a masochist who was able to withstand the crucifixion because He enjoyed at least some degree of pain and humiliation.  I had also channeled that, in general, proclivities can arise out of sufferings from previous lifetimes playing out as kinks in the current life, to help the soul to therapeutically resolve past life traumas, but some kinks can also be in a person to help guide the soul through troubles ahead that are innate in the fate of the individual.  If a soul is destined to be a martyr, they might have something in them that allows them to process the pain a bit more easily... in short, God comforts the soul with something the church likely wouldn't want people to embrace in themselves: an erotic desire that would fit right in with the modern day fetish scene.

I am certain that the Holy Spirit has a hand in making everything that much easier - not many are masochistic enough to handle being roasted alive.  But I wonder, based on what St. Lawrence uttered, if there was already a quality of masochism in him, one that the Holy Spirit worked with to make the horror of the end of his life all the more tolerable.  This is a debatable topic and fundamentalists would want to take me to task over this, but I believe in a loving God who not only loves the kinkster, but might even create kinks in the person to soften the blows of their soul's personal journey.

Now, onto queerness: I consulted this with my very close friend, who is trans, to make sure there was nothing problematic about a (mostly) cisgendered woman such as myself discussing it.  It is common knowledge that many shamans have been trans, or have in some way been unusual sexually, or present an otherness that sets them apart.  I chalk it up to them being ancient souls who have lived many lives as many people, been both sexes, which likely has influenced gender down the line.  They are not confused, they are in fact more aware in some ways, having been many people, these people's qualities influencing many components of their current life, and this can include gender identity and sexuality.  Shamans kind of have to be ancient to be shamans, so it makes sense that if many shamans are trans, it's arguable that being trans could also be a sign of an old soul.

I have also channeled that St. Joan of Arc was trans, not a cross dresser, as many have concluded due to Joan wearing male clothes, which this saint insisted on and considered holy.  Many saints have had their queerness erased by the church, in favor of a watered down image that suggests a kind of sexual purity that the Catholics consider ideal.  St. Bacchus and St. Sergius were lovers, St. Aelred of Rievaulx, the patron saint of friendship, was believed to be gay.  Even King David from the Bible is argued to be at least bisexual.  I am not sure how much the church consciously covers up when considering a person for canonization, but I am sure there are a lot of insights about the saint in question that are left out in their life story, once presented to the public.  If Jesus Himself can be whitewashed to the degree He is in art, why not this?

I am mostly recovered from the assault now, BTW - the bruising didn't get that bad, and I only needed to pop pain killers twice.  I have had a few moments of being emotionally sensitive from the fear of what could have been, had this been uglier, had the group had weapons, but I need to let that go.  That's just the mind teaching me to be more careful next time.  Now I know not to be sassy if a group gangs up on me again.  (My Dad was guilty of this kind of thing in life as well, but he never got beaten for it.)  The man I was in another life was a fighter pilot in a world war, he wants to put idiots in their place, but he is housed this time around in an out of shape female body that doesn't know how to fight.  Better to be meek and alive than bold and in a casket.  I will leave immediately if anything like this ever happens again.  (Mars retrograde is in Aries right now, so maybe that negatively influenced things for me.)


UPDATE: I probably won't pursue a case with the assault, even though people have been saying I should.  I guess they don't get what life is like in the projects.  The restaurant was nearby, and I don't get if this group lives in the hood, is affiliated with a gang (even though they were likely in their early 20s, not very bright, and the girl who kicked me was more violent than she was skilled at fighting).  I do NOT need to be a gang target if I put one of them in prison and they find out where I live.  I cannot trust the police to protect me because of my lower class status, and I want to avoid being involved with them.  Also, with racial tension as it is, I don't want to be the white girl who sends the black girl to prison, even if she did do what she did.  I am trying to live a quiet life without much of anything to complicate things, not even pursuing ambitious things, and a court battle would disrupt my situation, making me feel vulnerable.  I say, walk away.  If she was this violent over absolutely nothing, she will likely be in prison for something else someday anyway.  Ego would want to press charges, Self says leave it alone.

Tuesday, 20 October 2020

Assaulted: 2020 finally laid into me...

Oh god, what a fucking night.

I just got home from the hospital, where I was looking to get a CATscan after some honkey haters surrounded me at a local restaurant, and one shoved me to the ground and began kicking me in the head.  I took off before she could do any serious visible damage, but my head now feels swollen and it's probably going to bruise badly.  I have too much pride - I should have backed away but I felt like sassing back at this psychopath because of the shit I have been through over the years, and she attacked me.  Foolish.  Do not try to reason with a violent idiot.  They were calling me names like "white shit" - I never thought white bashing would happen to me, I tend to be gentle in my demeanour, but there you go.  (Perhaps my gentle demeanour is something she wanted to hurt.)  I was quivering but it wasn't fear - it was adrenaline, which pumps so bad in me when I'm angry it makes me look nervous.  That cunt was a shit Jungian because that wasn't fear in my eyes, that was a mind appalled at little girls behaving badly, trying to restrain itself.

It really worries me because I already have neurological sensitivity and am vulnerable a lot when I am alone, so the shock made me panic, and I was terrified once she began kicking me.  I ran to some cops and reported it - they called an ambulance.  I started seeing geometric shapes in my field of vision.  This blew $45 on that ambulance which led to me just getting some Tylenols and Advils at the hospital.  The doctor said I didn't need the CATscan.  If I have a concussion, I hope it doesn't add to what's already wrong with me.  

Fuck Toronto.  I support BLM but this is bullshit.  I am not some bougie white girl who talks shit about POC - I live in the projects.  (I prayed the rosary in the ER and that seemed to calm me down, I didn't even need an Ativan.)

I'm going to be sore tomorrow.


Monday, 19 October 2020

On my own: Recovering from spiritual assault (without any real assistance)...

I am feeling very weary again.  I think my nervous system is still quite shot - I cry a lot, and want to retreat to my room and talk to the Spirit to coax me out of pain.  The battle I had with the demon was so brutal that it must have affected me in some profound way that medicine just doesn't understand, and I feel I will never get adequate help, and that I must continually just work to heal myself, not being able to rely on anyone.  Though this teaches me self reliance, it also makes me weary, and sometimes I lose hope.  I doubt I will ever kill myself, but I worry about cancer being the next big thing I will have to face, because both of my parents had it, the families are riddled with it, and this strain I feel could fuel a tumour.  I live in fear of dying like my father did.  Mostly I suffer from odd neurological quirks that conventional medicine seems to ignore, chronic tiredness, and tension headaches, and the desire to live as small a life as possible.  I would sign up for a PETscan if only psychiatry offered those for diagnosis and not just for research.  I would sign my life over to a state hospital for long term care if it guaranteed REAL care, and not abuse and humiliation, and if my pain was acknowledged for what it really is.  I would eventually want my life back of course, but I feel like a soldier returning from war and it's as though nobody gets it.  Some days I am in so much pain, but other than on this blog, you will never hear me talk about it.  I can't afford to look weak after what looking weak did to me in the past.  People turned their backs on me when I was weak before... I am sure they would easily do it again.  I must laugh it off and be strong about everything, even if it kills me.

I thank my analyst and my current psychiatrist for all the help they have provided, but I still feel like mostly, it's all up to me, and sometimes I feel like everything I do to try to heal is a shot in the dark.  There's no question that I have improved, the original problem seems to be gone (or at least leaving), but the after effects are crippling.  I can distract myself by being with friends or picking myself up by my bootstraps in other ways here and there, but alone again, I am weary when I think too much about it.  My body might just give out from all of this, I could die young... I'm not sure.  Self abuse is still something I engage in, but only in the mildest sense - you won't ever see me with razor blades, just a smack to the head or a desire to choke myself, which never lasts.  Again, it's an old pattern that isn't fully broken, and happens when I panic.  Divinity usually successfully restrains me with an invisible force to prevent me from harming myself at all.

The only thing I truly care about anymore is my relationship to Divinity and building on that, on feeling loved after being possessed by an entity of hate, on fostering the best that I can get out of what remains of my time here in this world.  I hope to go as far as I can in my spirituality that I won't ever have to return, because most of my life has been pretty hard.  As a child I endured constant bullying, my teens meant a difficult home life, and my 20s were impossible.  I can't imagine that if I don't get this sorted out by 50, the aging process will ever be kind to me.

I must have lived some mighty strange lives to deserve this, or else this is an intense test leading to something better.  Whatever the case, I hold onto hope when I channel that nicer times are ahead, and I might even have an extremely good life coming.  In the meantime, I try to live a bit like the "Little Way" of St. Therese of Lisieux, and approach this time with childlike humility and devotion.


Sunday, 11 October 2020

Latest comic update...

My dear friend recently compiled all comic files for the final graphic novel, and is onto the cover portion.  Then he will return the files to the printers (they were too swamped to tackle it immediately), and (hopefully) all copies will be in my possession before the end of the fall.  Since COVID-19 numbers are rising again, a book launch might not be possible, but I will provide information on here as to where to obtain your copy.  (I am considering on demand printing from the web for future reprints - perhaps an omnibus, the whole series in one big book, minus "The Psychosis Diaries", which I don't plan on printing again.)

Today I purchased the Sekhmet statue pictured here - a modest price, from The Occult Shop.  It was a real bitch finding a local shop, as of late, that carried Her - I had to get them to order it.  She used to be everywhere, but lately... nothing.  She looks good on my table altar, next to all of my other spiritual gear.  She still seems to be a prominent influence, one that is growing in my relationship to Her with time.

I am kicking myself that this comic wasn't put out immediately after the series was completed online.  I could have gotten a book launch out of it without COVID-19 spoiling the event scene, and it would have just looked better from a creator to do it sooner.  I wonder if this sabotaged my readership much?  Oh well - I am still on a kind of hiatus, and I just feel like I can't quite focus on that kind of thing right now.  My soul and my mind are my priorities.  When I do psychic readings about it, the answer is that a comeback is coming, but only when I am moved to do my next big project, whatever that is.  I think I need to get to a plateau of sorts with my situation to know what to discuss next, and until that time, it's just journal style updates with these blog posts, and the odd art piece here and there.

A weird Thanksgiving... no meal with the family due to rising numbers.  My uncle is in palliative care, so I expect a new spiritual guest to drop by once he's in Bardo.  I lit many candles to pray for him, sometimes in church, to support his journey in any way it could be supported.  A great guy with a funny laugh and lots of charm.  We will miss him.


Thursday, 8 October 2020

Prescription CBD, Jesus magick, et cetera...

I am now officially a CBD marijuana patient!  I received my first container of 5 g in the mail, and already I can tell this pot is better quality than the dispensary variety, by a notch.  I have noticed, with use, that it's made my psyche slightly more organized, my overall mood slightly better (making COVID-19 easier to tolerate, as an ongoing concern in the world), and that tension is less, and sleep is better.  I inherited a vape but I still find smoking it more effective - I feel like I am spiritually benefiting from it more when I burn it over boiling it.  Oddly enough, I still don't cough much using it, where marijuana once made me hack like my lung was about to fly out.  My lungs must be in good shape, despite it all!

So, on to discuss the Jesus magick, which I mentioned in a previous post - I had bought a Sacred Heart candle and did an invocation incant, with the rosary, Psalms, litanies, and the Sacred Heart chaplet.  (I seemed guided to do so, so that's what came of it.)  Midway during the invocation, I felt a grand presence open up - not like a vision or anything, but a great lightness, a presence of awe and power, of goodness.  (Almost like the cinematography of my life had changed.)  I got the sense I had elevated my situation to a level where I became closer to the Christ, and He was now a bigger influence than He was before... something that was very confusing throughout my time with the spiritual problem was how close He was to me.  The next day, I did another incant with the same candle, asking that Jesus destroy any remaining evils in me, and exorcise me, if necessary - again, reciting various litanies, throwing Frankincense and tobacco on the fire, until I could feel changes in the body.  Surrendering everything to Jesus, I am getting a new message that things are about to improve again, and I am to observe how this plays out.  I know this has been a good year for healing, but the pursuit of freedom has been ongoing, and phenomena has confused my channel.  It is not so much that I am mad, it is that I am not aware of my soul's ultimate truth right now.  I will observe as the months roll on and see where Christ takes me, at this new level.

An old connection I recently reached out to, a shaman living in Northern Ontario, did a journey for me.  I won't discuss the journey too much, only that it featured a lion prominently in its symbolism.  I gather this is indicative of Sekhmet, and I think back to the time in my mother's home in the country where I was alone, ravaged by evil, and briefly, as a soul, took on the form of a lioness, ready to pounce.  Sekhmet keeps coming back in symbolism, so I gather She really is an important deity in my life, even though Christ and Mary are also important to me.