Homeless naked wizardry
Jun 5 2009
Hey! We’re Karley and Bunny. We’re homeless. Well, in three weeks we’ll be homeless, as our beloved squat of two and a half years is finally coming to an end. Bummer. We’re not too into the idea of being vagrants, so we’ve decided to try and use magic as a method of salvaging our home. You know, rather than looking over the paperwork and legality of randomly destroying our house with little prior warning.
Eager to learn some spells that could protect our home, last weekend we attended a convention of London-based witches and wizards entitled Occulture. However, the mystic gathering was slightly discouraging. Everyone there was fat and wearing dirt-stained togas (i.e. there were no supernatural hotties, or those chicks from The Craft). One guy performed an hour long, one man version of Oedipus Rex (which was painful). Then another dude gave us a half-assed tarot card reading in which he told me (Bunny) that my life is going to suck, while a drunk wizard screamed “You’re going to die!” over and over again. Bleak.
Since we got no actual help from these weirdos, we decided to leave them alone with their "psycho-geographical" Jack the Ripper role play and enlist the help of our shaman friend, Matthew Stone.
In his infinite wisdom, he suggested we perform a ritual to ask the Spirit Gods to Save Our Squat (SOS).
We performed the ritual at midnight in an abandoned warehouse in south London. As we don’t know much about the logistics of magic, we let the shaman take charge. The ritual began by lighting a circle of thirteen candles in which to contain the spiritual energy. We then spread rose quartz along the edges of the ring, to entrust that it was a circle of love and friendship, rather than of evil. Next the shaman told us to get completely naked. We were a bit freaked out at first, but you should always trust people who keep lots of crystals and weird looking sticks in their bedroom right? So we stripped.
Next came some freestyle chanting, ceremonial war paint (Max Factor), and a little bit of naked kissing. Around this time we all blacked out. The details of the ceremony are difficult to recount, perhaps because we were smashed, but ALSO because of like, the constraints of the English language or whatever. Still, it’s amazing that simply running around naked, making strange noises and contracting tetanus can be such a profound and beautiful experience.
After reaching collective spiritual enlightenment and effectively communicating with “The Other Side,” we parted ways with the shaman and took the bus back to our squat. Then we dropped some acid. This basically undermined the whole experience and made us want to die. Drugs ruin everything. Love is the answer!
Tune in next week to see what happens to naked squat wizards!
VICE Special: VICE and the Criterion Collection Present: Martin Scorsese on the Films of Roberto Rossellini
Fuck Drunken Brits Abroad
Stress Makes Me Horny
Rule Britannia: Swansea Love Story - Full Length
Ink Spots: 'A Nice Magazine' Does What It Says On the Cover
It's a Godlis World: Early Photos of Punk Rock After Dark
Johnny Ryan Made a Prison Pit Cartoon and He Hates My Guts
Rule Britannia: London BikeLife
Protecting the Precious Flower That Is Black Metal
Dungeons & Dragons Has Caught Up with Third-Wave Feminism