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Gone are the days when witches were portrayed as ugly old
women practising the black art; when these 'black hags' were
alleged to goad morally restrained men into doing evil in spite
of themselves.
Now that sexual bias is couched in less misogynous terms,
there's no denying that the number of XY warlocks is the same as
that of XX witches. And now that racial prejudice survives
mainly in subtler claims, these male and female warlocks may
just as well belong to the chosen race as to a different one. A
white witch is not normally good anymore; black art not normally
used for evil purposes.
Shakespearean verses in which witches are vilely described as
chasing the livers of Jews, the noses of Turks and the lips of
Tartars have meanwhile tiptoed out of literature.
These days warlocks m/f include ugly old white women along with
attractive young black men, provided they do not select their
victims by ethnic background.
Gone are the days when witches could be officially accused of
intercourse with the Devil and of using their magic power to
make all sorts of bad things happen; when these 'weird sisters'
had to hover in the fog, in thunder, in lightning or in rain, on
the distant moors of Scotland.
Now that almost everyone respects their human rights, witches of
all lands and their male counterparts prefer to appear in the
open when it is sunny and the air clean. And now that they have
been acknowledged as fellow citizens it is they who, this time
as hunters themselves, may persecute dissenters or dissidents;
on the pretext of promoting the general weal, as usual.
These days warlocks m/f have, for the most part, changed their
feudal allegiance from the Lord of the Flies to the much
mightier Lord in the Skies that created him, altho not few of
them remain divided, torn between the former and the latter.
Gone are the days when witches met upon the heath, dancing
around in the altogether, singing their eerie songs; when these
'filthy fiends' went from one place to another on rickety
broomsticks, so withered and so wild in their attire.
Now that millions of mortals have migrated to towns and cities,
warlocks of both sexes make their way thru urban streets and
the corridors of concrete apartment buildings. And now that
electricity has replaced manual labor, they do not knock at the
doors anymore: they press electrical doorbells.
These days warlocks m/f make a different song and dance, about
peace and justice. Dressed in prim clothes, they travel on foot,
in wheelchairs, or by car.
They even fly in supersonic aircraft from continent to continent.
Also the sight of three witches in tandem is not that common
anymore. If not alone, latter-day witches, and warlocks in
general, tend to move about side by side in twosomes. Thus, a
male warlock may accompany a female one, a hideous warlock a
handsome one, a wheelchair warlock a pedestrian one. A very
elect group of them will hurry to people's homes in such pairs
when they have even the slightest of suspicions that their
well-meant warnings are brushed aside. While the Spirit urges them
on, crying "'Tis time; 'tis time", they come to discharge
their beclouding belief of an expiring epoch; to sell it
door-to-door. None of them will admit to being a 'warlock'. The only
ones who may proudly proclaim themselves 'witches' are the
followers of Wicca, an earth religion revolving around a Great
Mother goddess. But in the overwhelmingly patriarchal universe
of divine discourse these folks form a negligible minority of
eccentrics. Literally all warlocks, whatever they call
themselves or whatever form of disturbance they are up to, now
refuse to wait till a brindled cat in the neighborhood has
meowed three times, or till a local hedgehog has whined four
times.
And yet, there are numerous things which have not changed, one
being the pristine meaning of warlock itself: someone who
breaks the (rules for) truth, who betrays the (principle of)
truth. Warlocks have always broken the truth, this foundation of
sincerity and cornerstone of science, by violating what
personally binds everyone and what naturally binds everything,
by showing contempt of nature's universal reality. Ossified by
mundane and extramundane convention from day to day, hoodwinked
by pump and circumstance on special occasions, they often behave
as creatures that tarried in pitch-dark nothingness before being
molded into tangible figures by a wizardly potter. The really
fine ones among them continue to believe that the Earth is but a
film which may crack in twain at any moment, with warrior and
warhorse sinking beyond plummet's sounding; the really occult
ones that there are mysterious powers, hidden from ordinary
people, that can be subjected to the control of those who share
their secret knowledge. It is awful to consider that even in the
smartest of these souls lies a martial, or martial-pacific,
world of internalized delusion; a schizophrenic, stagnating
realm of supernatural beings and preternatural forces in the
midst of a technologically more and more advancing society.
Forever shall the religious or paranormal stuff roar in the
mythiest of these minds like a gigantic pride of indefatigable
lions.
On top of all this, modern warlocks resemble male warlocks
and witches of olden times in that they, too, seem to be dead
serious about the treacherous metaphysical ideas that possess
them. One would not expect it in this day and age, but each lie,
each prevarication has been repeated so consistently from
generation to generation that they know no better.
Until recently i (not a Supreme Being to be capitalized on) cherished
the illusion that i knew how to handle supernatural truth-breakers,
especially those trying to encroach on my privacy at home.
As soon as i opened the door, and saw one of these weird brothers or
sisters in front of me, i would firmly say "No, thank you" and close the
door immediately.
(Since it is everyone's natural right not to speak with a person
when they do not feel like it.)
Even tho warlocks need not be ugly old specimens at all, it
never seems a problem to pick them out when they want to palter
with you, or when they want you to join them in their paltering
with truth. As of old you easily recognize them by their
charming and alluring looks. But before they would have any
chance of seizing me with their smug smiles, i always unambiguously
showed i was not interested, and they left me alone.
That is, they used to leave me alone. Because yesterday two
warlocks, one male, one female, returned unexpectedly.
"Didn't you ring at my door before?" i asked, astonished to
see back the faces of the same two characters that ventured to
accost me a few weeks earlier.
"You thanked us without having listened to the Glad Tidings we
have for you", the witch of the two spoke with some sort of a
vestigial croak.
"I'm sorry, but i'm already acquainted with the purpose of your
supernatural soliciting. All of you are the same."
These words i should never have uttered.
Not that i had offended them, for they even answered that all 'men'
—i said "you"— are indeed 'created' —i never said
"created"— equal.
But then, they sang out in unison:
"Our Master created us purely white,
and created us equally not that light.
Our Master created us strong and so wealthy,
and created us equally poor and unhealthy.
Our Master created us first male,
and recreated us equally from rib to female".
I could not wait until the end of these lyrics.
"And," i interrupted them, "your master miscreated you rather foul,
trying to lead people on with false and unjustifiable ideas that
are a travesty of truth and fairness."
My words must have touched a string, because both of them
looked daggers at me, and snarled, "Fairness is foulness, and foulness is
fairness, for fair is foul, and foul is fair".
"Yes, indeed, in the world of warlocks", i thought.
It was hard to guess what repercussions the equivocation
might have on the fair sex. But i (a member of the foul sex) was
surely in trouble — double, double toil and trouble.
The reason was not the equivocation, as it could even be to my advantage;
no, the reason was simply that i had started to talk to these
creatures instead of shutting my mouth and the door instantly
after my usual No, thanks. The bright sunshine at the front
door even made me sneeze, which in turn induced the two
worshipers to utter a God bless you.
"I wish you wouldn't perpetuate the belief in a supernatural
deity at the expense of my health", i replied.
If from then on they were going to disturb me every witching
day, their visitations had at least partially to be a punishment
for this reply. With their preternaturally fine senses they
would always be able to tell whether i was home or not. Did i
not give myself up into their, or their god's, hands sooner or
later, they might proceed to boiling certain delicate parts of
my body, eventually my whole body, in a pot large enough for all
humanity.
"Do you read the Book?", the second warlock, the male one,
asked me.
"Not while falling under the spell of its power of reasoning,"
quoth i, "but i do cite its most heinous or hilarious passages
now and then. Do you realize that like all nonbelievers, and
like all murderers, and like all liars, you sorcerers too, shall
have your part in the lake which burns with fire and brimstone?"
"We're not sorcerers; we're not controlled by evil spirits but
by the One And Only Good Spirit."
"Evil is good, and good is evil, in the world of warlocks", i
thought.
"We realise that you need help, and it is our duty and
supreme aim in life to help you, you personally. By compact
with the King, our Master, we possess the power of infinite and
eternal love. If you don't feel this stirring love witch
[sic] climaxes in our Master, please, let us help you."
I could not feel any love in any part of my body then; not
even in my mind. I was only filled with a mixture of pity and
horror at the sight of these silly suckers standing before me
and so desperately longing for intercourse with me. In order to
provoke my desire nevertheless, i grabbed a bottle of liquor
which stood on a little table behind the door and took a long,
copious pull. My person just desired to provoke his desire for
the witch in particular. Quite aware that the spirits were
likely to take away the performance, i figured she was wholly
and holily intent on superspiritual contact anyhow.
"Do you love your neighbour?", the witch and her mate
continued their interrogation.
"Perish the thought!" i exclaimed, "My left-hand neighbor is a
married woman and my right-hand neighbor a man. You wouldn't
allow me to openly admit that i love somebody who's married, but
not to me, or somebody who doesn't have the right type of
genitals, would you?".
Being determined not to have myself led into temptation, i was
convinced this was a perfect apology.
"Upon my soul, I don't mean physical love! Physical love and
lechery are dirty and sinful. Loving somebody of one's own kind,
not in word but in deed, is even dirtier and more sinful. Such
love our loving Master abominates most of all," began the one.
"We warn you: if you don't embrace Him above as soon and as
lovingly as possible, you'll suffer eternal damnation hereafter!"
added the other.
Altho i never knew i had a neighbor upstairs as well, i said, before the
juggling devils could rabbit on about their Master's intimate
abominations, "O, i see you still foretell people's future like you used
to do in former times.
But your sooth is not my truth, even tho believing in it may be your
supernatural right".
"Love is hate, and hate is love, in the world of warlocks", i
thought.
"Do you believe in God?", the witch inquired of me next,
still smirking.
"Please, be your age! Mature people nowadays believe in the
primacy of norms and values".
I am sure the unlucky wretch had never heard of such a thing on the moors
of Scotland or, more probably, on the salt flats of Utah.
Granting that some latter-day truth-breakers enjoy greater intellectual
powers than their male and female predecessors, they always exercise these
powers in such an unquestioning manner that the Authority of the infinitely
wise Maker of which they are the workmanship is never challenged.
Therefore it did not surprise me that the other serf of
the infallible Master went on:
"But you must believe in God and His Kingdom! Aren't you
concerned about the salvation of your soul? Your earthly life is
but a walking shadow; solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short
without His Authority".
"I'm not that fond of this indulgence in soul-gazing by
individuals who are, ultimately, only interested in an eternal
happy afterlife for themselves", i riposted. "I admire people
who help others to protect them from violence and pain, to free
them from oppression and discrimination, to save them from
religious and paranormal myth-mongering, without being sure that
they themselves will ever reap the fruits of their goodness".
"But aren't you concerned about the moral degeneration of man
as we see it in today's dire disturbance of the natural order?
Aren't you concerned about the day of the Last Judgment, when
God will redress the balance and when He will judge you
too?"
"Naturally, i'm very much concerned about the disturbance of
legitimate order. Very little concerned, however, am i about
the established order of your Church and the established order
of your Monarchy being upset. In your ideology the stay of the
world is the obedience of mere creatures to the laws of what you
befoggingly call "nature"; in mine it's the obedience of persons
to normative principles such as those of truth and relevance or
inclusiveness. In your power- and struggle-centered state of
mind you're constantly worrying about a demon that threatens to
replace your capital-G god at the head of the universe; you're
constantly worrying about a regicide that threatens to replace
your capital-K king at the head of the body politic. You've thus
become blind to the future in which normal beings free from
exclusivity will have replaced both your abnormal god and your
abnormal demon; in which republican democrats bound by equality
will have replaced both your monarchical king and your
monarchical regicide. If you had it your way, a fabricated Lord of
the Lies would now rule, or still rule, an Orwellian theocracy
in which war is peace, slavery freedom and ignorance knowledge.
How sadly you overreach yourself in propagating an unnatural
order of eternal, infinitely bright daylight rather than to
content yourself with the naked truth; with the natural, godless
and kingless order in which the night succeeds the day and the
day succeeds the night for all human beings, for all animal
beings, tailed and tailless. What i am looking forward to is
the day of the last supernatural judgment. Your godly, kingly
condition only inverts the truly inclusive, and your godly,
kingly tradition only retards the newly relevant. The belief you
try, but fail, to inflict on me is blasphemy against nature".
While being stared at in complete bafflement, i added: "In your
world supernatural is natural, and natural supernatural".
(At that moment i did not know yet that more than 150 years
before i uttered these words by way of reproof, Carlyle, an
equivocator of letters who used to view all reality in the light
of some vital spark, had already seriously contended that
everything natural is supernatural.)
Their mouths agape, the confused warlocks (who did not seem
familiar with Carlyle's 'natural supernaturalism' either) turned
their heads to each other.
"Must the fire burn, the cauldron bubble?" the creepiest one
asked after a few seconds of awkward silence.
"Oh, God damn it," ejaculated the other, suddenly losing his
self-control (albeit not as long and as gravely as God Himself
when crying out that all nonbelievers should be damned). "He's
not yet capable of suffering. To frighten him he must first
accept that the fire and cauldron are real".
"Yes, and we, the King's humble servants, we want to convert
others. We're not going to be reasoned out of our faith
ourselves — Lord preserve us!"
"Come, sister, let the fire burn in hell, and the cauldron
bubble in heaven, please God. Let's make haste, for there's
trouble brewing here."
"Yes, brother, there's trouble brewing here, as sure as God made
little green apples."
As sure as Nature continues to make small, medium-size and large,
green, yellow and red apples, there was no love lost between the two
prospective proselytizers and me. They could not get away from me
fast enough, soon making themselves air, into which they vanished.
I never found out whether they belonged to Yehova or Someone Else.
Generally it is six of one and half a dozen of the other. As
they have already sold their souls to a prophet of supernatural
lore the day of the last unnatural judgment will probably never
arrive for them anyhow. The more they floodlight their Master,
the more in darkness they remain.
But, at least, they have taught me a lesson, namely, that i should stick
to my house rule thru fair and foul: "No, thank you" to the warlocks,
and close the door immediately.
45.aSWW
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