What would you do if in the quest of becoming a prominent public figure for neo-pagans and wiccans, you ended up caught between detractors and gossip?
There are many ways to handle these obstacles and for those who truly believe themselves adept at the magical arts, magical defence should put a quick end to all problems. However, for many who make such bombastic claims of magical power and secret knowledge, it turns out to be all noise and no substance.
They must then deal with the additional embarrassment of explaining WHY they seem to be powerless to make their detractors and gossip cease and desist. Every now and then, Sharon Day likes to remind us all, what a poor persecuted victim of vicious gossip she is. I thought all that had been dealt with and buried at the Grand Sabbat, or was it?
So let me get this one straight: here is someone who claims of having no longer time for gossip but seems to have plenty of time for yapping and posting memos to her persecutors on social media.
I guess Sharon Day is still a long way away from mastering silence, nevermind indifference. Her detractors will be pleased to hear they’re still keeping her secretly scouring the internet and running up her phone bill for gossip, aside posting her predicaments online.
It’s really no use to pretend to be strong in a zone of virtual strangers when you lack self-control in the secrecy of your four walls. It has become common knowledge, thanks to some eloquent individuals in her life, she can recite Loki’s Gazette blog posts almost at verbatim but still needs to read from her BOS in her witchcraft rituals.
But let us not blame people for their disloyalty. After all, it’s not their fault if Sharon Day fails to inspire respect in her friends…and her enemies.
Expressions such as “You can even add some if you want” mark her out for the abject fool she is, and it wouldn’t even be the first time.
No, you couldn’t make it up. She actually said “no publicity is bad publicity…shaft it all the way to Ragnarok.
O.K….Have it your way Sharon.
Never before, even in its fluffiest ranks, has the craft seen someone lacking the most basic understanding of conflict handling and resolution. Sharon Day wonders why people won’t let bygones be bygones. For someone who makes such a big deal about words, she gives express permission to add on and then wonders what the fuck is hitting her when she’s taken on her word.
Here comes the Looney Tune! Hidden in plain sight: a classic example of how Sharon Day lets her closest ‘friends’ ride her like a bicycle.
Perhaps Sharon Day is afraid of not being able to hold her ground if she were to confront her enemies with the animosity she carries inside. Or perhaps, she’s hyper-conscious of how her wits let her down whenever the occasion presents itself. In her fantasy world enemies offer themselves to her like her Waitrose ready-made meals. In the real world, all she gets are fleeting opportunities. Carpe diem because once they’re gone, they’re gone. Let’s just say, animosity without cunning and sharp reflexes results only in uncontrolled anger – neither priestly nor magical. It’s not just a detestable flaw in someone proposing herself as a power icon but a downright dishonourable weakness.
So what else does Sharon Day do when she’s not busy telling other Alexandrians how to run their covens or making rounds of calls to check what people talk about behind her back?
The likes of Sharon Day use spiritual practices and beliefs to avoid dealing with painful feelings, unresolved wounds, developmental needs and other major slaps in the face from life. This coping mechanism is commonly known as spiritual bypassing.
The more money you have in the bank, the harder it is to divorce the bored housewife who took early retirement from and has been off work for the past 20 years. Before we label her fortunate, we’d be better off reminding ourselves that a gilded cage is always a cage and that idle minds will gravitate towards purposeless pursuits. Who says all curses must end in death?
Sharon Day has a young daughter being slowly consumed by an illness like a candle on both ends. Sharon’s belief that a curse had been placed on her daughter was what brought her to witchcraft in the first place as she desperately sought someone who could break and remove this curse.
There’s nothing worse than trying to live of reflected glory through your offspring because you never really learnt how to live and shine of your own accord. This is how Sharon Day filled her younger days as a typical well-off, middle class mother. But while most middle class mothers would content themselves of ferrying their kids activity after activity, Sharon Day had always objectified other women as pawns to compete against because that’s what she was brought up to believe in beauty pageant country. This conditioning caused her self-esteem to plummet at various points in her life. She had proved useless at competing first hand and failed her parents’ expectations, so she took her burden off her shoulders and placed it on her own brood. Call it a generational curse just waiting for its season to ripen. It was at one of these competitions that Sharon Day met her nemesis in a woman of colour who had made great personal sacrifices to help her daughter’s talent to flourish. Having discovered Sharon Day was trying use her influential status to bribe and corrupt the panel of judges in her daughter’s favour, and being nowhere near as half as wealthy or influential as her, this woman resorted to the good old fashioned method of witchcraft. But, we’re not talking wiccan magic here. This woman was no new age sucker and resorted to methods anchored deeply in her ancestral heritage. There were no polished brass candlesticks on her altar. No athames. No swords or cups. No need to fight back Mzungu’s abuses of power with their own weapons when she possessed fangs and talons as hers. The mama putting on such juju was one hell of a triggered lioness fending off a hungry hyena away from her cub. The juju reached deep into ancestral memory and back in time with songs and melodies belonging only to those carrying that memory imprint in their blood and the desire to avenge the wrongs of the past and present, to never be a second class American again. Modern fluffy witches still believe the dead operate on the reality of the living. They don’t because they can’t. They are no longer part of our world. What they can do, however, is to create turbulence and an attuned practitioner can re-awaken old grudges from their former lives to set them against other ancestral lines like Furies. The more oppressed the ancestral group, the more responsive and sympathetic to a kindred’s plea they’ll be. They will attack the oppressor’s ancestral lineage, who on the other side will find no Christ to to hide behind. Whichever form the attack will take, it will travel across time and space in the form of mysterious sickness and physical debilitation that will affect their living descendants. Long ago, someone poked fun at Loki’s Gazette for suggesting that the ‘sins of the fathers will be visited upon their children’. As a matter of fact, yes, it’s a realistic possibility, particularly true for anyone out of synch with their ancestors. So, when Sharon Day talks of having been harpooned, she’s not entirely wrong, except she’s not really noticing where it came from and where it plunged.
We know many a witch who would be quick at waxing lyrical about their cursing prowess and equally quick to deny such things are possible when someone other than themselves is being magically attacked for whatever stupid reason. Of course, as Sharon found out, witches brag a lot about cursing, hexing and healing but when it comes to the crunch they suddenly turn to scepticism and will do their best to rationalise it away, because there is nothing more embarassing than putting oneself out as a not-to-be-messed-with sorcerer, and then, when the moment of truth finally catches up with them, have nothing to deliver but contrived platitudes about past lives karma or suggestions to book an appointment with a psychiatrist.
You would think, whatever your belief, or lack of it, in curses, Sharon would have a clear idea of where her number one priority lay…waiting to be attended, but it seems, even dogs can do a better job.
But fuck it…let’s tend to the spineless piece of dead wood too afraid to be seen hanging around the Alexandrian Witchcraft Ltd stall by his coven associates and call it service. Let’s book a last minute ticket to Glastonbury and go stir some shit on someone else’s doorstep and call it extending an olive branch.
Sharon Day likes to brag on her blog about these sensational victories in life but she never explains how any of that bullshit takes priority over the girl on the hospital bed.
She can save her breath because facts are self-explanatory and louder than any protest. No skin off our noses, however…
In a short span of time, Sharon has been firmly planted in the exoteric courtyard of magic, no matter how masterfully credible the enchantment of being part of some inner circle has been spun around her. There are some among us who pity her for she has open enemies all around the magical community who would fell her like a sacrilegious totem at the first opportunity. Worse still, her very gullible and easily manipulated nature, not to mention her material wealth, have attracted an equal number of greedy hoodwinkers and gold-diggers who stand to benefit from a tool like her being such a beacon for desperate inepts and these people are very good at hiding their contempt with a friendly smile and a pat on her back. Essentially, if you have not yet understood, Maxine’s plan is to elevate herself to divinity status, with Sharon Day towing behind her as chief High Priestess, sponsoring her every project.
Often, the hatred against Sharon Day has nothing to do with her background or who she gets the ‘privilege’ to mingle with. Seasoned witches are well aware of the promotional empress parading at consumer-orientated pagan gatherings in her new clothes but it’s the non-negotiable and persistent demand that everyone should echo the ignorant massess oohing and aaahing in awe at her illusionary splendour, the expectation to join in and imitate her in her mindless adoration of her mistress, sell themselves to and exalt her keepers, capitulate unreservedly to them… that’s what rubs feisty spirits the wrong way.
Aside those who stand to gain from consumer-orientated pagan events, who the fuck would want to pay entrance fees and have pushed in their face an overpriced, hard to sell, limited edition copy of photocopies of notes meant for the fire that Alex Sanders had himself copied from sources freely available in libraries.
Armchair magicians with more money than sense…or power, that’s who.
Enemies are part of life and true friends may be a rare luxury for some but it wasn’t until Sharon Day came on the scene that it became clear just how the two can be easily confused. Like a massive brasso-polished waste container, she was strategically (as well as tragically) placed to collect all the crap discarded by the many on their way out the craft’s own trailer park compound. It didn’t take long for it to start smelling badly and having all the sleazy vermin of the occult feasting on it. Now, no matter what you wash it with, it stinks just the same and it’s only a matter of time before she’ll be cast out in the desert like Scott Blunt, Karagan and many others before her.
Ironically, some flouncers envy Sharon’s exterior facade of glamour. Sorita D’Este is still coming to terms for not having been the first Maxine turned tofor support and is doing all in her might to win the pissing contest she got in with Sharon Day, or gods know, blasting rod failing in its purpose, maybe she wants to give an illusion of unity, as if we’d quickly forget what pagan mini-celebrities are like once they have no longer any use for one another. Not that she ever thinks it could have been her son to be left bereft of a mother with only a dog for company, if not worse.
From the inner perspective, however, even just contemplating envy is utterly insane, as it goes something along the lines of these two GOT characters, which see Sharon Day play the role of Theon Greyjoy – the proverbial highborn traitor (she did betray her initiator Scott Blunt out of ambition) who having seizes the opportunity to raise in rank, end ups being disrespected and mocked by her own for her goofy naivete and lack of charisma, (this reminds me when she called witches to unite against the common enemy), tortured (had her hopes raised and crushed by a series of failed healing rituals for her daughter) and bound into servitude by Maxine, who turned her into a broken, desperate for redemption pet, like Reek.
So what does Sharon do when the healing fails? She packs her sick daughter off with relatives on the other side of the Atlantic and gives herself something to intoxicate the mind and whip her into a frenzy, like poking her nose into the affair of strangers who probably never even heard her name, then goes on social media proclaiming herself a victim of malicious detractors.
This is how oblivious to gossip she actually is and how little time she has for it. So little in fact, that she actually starts the ball rolling by picking on a tradition that has nothing to do with Alexandrians and are minding their own business…
Interfering and meedling in private affairs of groups that are not Alexandrians, like she has nothing more important to do in life.
The following screenshots are evidence that far from being the victim of malicious gossip, Sharon Day actively attempts to divide and rule the pagan community and actively encourages disloyalty and discord by recruiting from within her network those stupid enough who will open the way for her to target groups minding their own business and showing no desire to become embroiled in her madness.
Why would someone who claims having no time to explain herself, demand exactly that of others she has never even met?
Knocking on too many doors, risking of ruffling a lot of feathers, from Brazil, to Australia and all the way to Canada…who the fuck does she think she is!
Pray tell us why, because we’re fucking confused too. I never understood where Alexandrians get their entitlement of ascertaining what’s into Gardnerian’s underpants.
Silly me, “the answer is simple”, according to Sharon Day. So if it’s not about a vouch, why does she make it her business to poke her nose into the affairs of a tradition Maxine holds in so much contempt?
It’s inconsistency after inconsistency. “We dared to break their rules”…so why the fuck do you now expect everybody else to respect your fucking rules? “This set us apart from Gardnerians”…yet you’re always sniffing up their arses like dogs on heat. “Much to the despair of other traditions…Much to the annoyance of the Gardnerians”…oh, so you like giving others a hard time, then cry victim when the tables turn. Fuck off. Just fuck off.
Pffft….I wouldn’t be so sure. Jealous of what? What is there about your miserable lives to be jealous about?
Bribery, rebels without a cause, plagiarism: some of the reasons why Loki’s Gazette despises neo-pagan, magical communities and their luminaries.
Oh yeah, Loki’s Gazette had it too (having been ranked at the same controversial level of Christian Day), the offer of the olive branch, to see if a bit of bribery and promises of glory would convince this rogue priesthood to repent like the prodigal son and get into the herd of good goddess-fearing-Christo-wiccan bum kissers.
Not a single member of our group grew into a magical practitioner because of a book, a person or course, even though we’ve all had some exposure to that at some point in our lives. In the end, we each understood and followed the way placed in front of us. We forge our training through our own practice.
Magic cannot be taught.
You’re either wired for it, in which case it will grow on you like an exoskeleton, or you’re not…in which case you’ll be studying and trying and reaching out to this teacher and that until you convince yourself to be deserving of a crowd of obsequious disciples and a title to match because you’ve been ‘working magic’ for 1, 5, 10, 20, 30 years.
Fuck that shit.
After the olive branch negotiations went tits up, came the threats from the ‘Most Noble Order of the Masters of the Temple, – a bunch of hopeless wankers – who also unsuccessfully fumbled clumsily with the possibility to infiltrate and antagonise both us and a number of magical groups suspected of having some sort of ideological affiliation to us…which is what happens when you don’t credit the sources you take inspiration from.
It’s unclear what this investigative commission led by NLP/Hypnotists Geraldine Oxenham (semi-Alexandrian and treasurer of OTO Ameth Lodge) were hoping to find but last we heard they were told in no uncertain terms where to go and promptly booted out by each and everyone they bothered, before getting a lengthy and rather amusing diatribe about their profound ignorance on some magical matters by a particularly cantankerous occultist.
What can I say? It must be the fucking magic!
Then again, the choice of words Geraldine Oxenham uses to introduce her NLP and Hypnotherapy practice cast serious doubts on her fitness to exercise that profession, especially considering that in occultism, obsession is a sign of psychological and spiritual unbalance.
Lo(l) and behold, turns out she was going back and forth between Sorita D’Este and Sharon Day, in the days leading up to the Glastonbury drama.
What a healthy bunch!
These days, the idea that a magical group may be content to operate self-sufficiently and completely outside ‘THE’ pagan community, lack any desire to be a promiscuous spiritual slut, even relishing in remaining unknown, seems like an unfathomable utopia.
Everyone wants to be known and hailed by the masses like one of the Grand Poobah of Witchcraft with Treadwell’s and Atlantis bookshop fighting over who’s going to provide all the trimmings, right?
Upon spotting Grand Master of the Ameth Lodge, Freemason and Citizen of Hookland, Marco Visconti on the far right of the picture we had no choice, as you can see, but to take this mighty magical order’s intimations very, very, very seriously.
This much seriously to be precise.
The Most Noble Order of the Masters of the Temple in their shining outer robes of glory.
All in all, the Noble Order of the Masters of the Temple soon found out the hard way power was not their natural state.
Reality check as a prelude to the next bit
Even though they don’t like to admit it, Alexandrians are one big dysfunctional, fragmented family of bastardised lineages whose matriarch blows hot and cold and whose training is at best disjointed and incoherent at the core of the tradition itself. Many downlines were’t even given that and Maxine couldn’t have cared less, letting initiates grab each other at throats over the validity of their practice like it was some sort of an amusement sport. They lack a unified canon to make them stand out from Gardnerians and the once much maligned about eclectics. Instead they settled for becoming a poor imitation, with a couple of pages from this book, a passage from that book, three lines of this liturgy, a DIY Abramelin in three days, and so on and so forth. Maxine calls this paper poultice, Alexandrian refinement. When their BOS contains glaring mistakes, they are called ‘blinds’.
Peruse a few out of print publications from long forgotten magicians and realise they’re not blinds at all, but just the hand of a fucking cunt who couldn’t even copy from a book. Want some proof? Let’s take a couple of leaves from the Temple of the Mother 3rd BOS and compare it to its original source from a founding father of modern magic whose name seems to have been deliberately obliterated by all those who used his books to start up or bump up their own independent traditions.
Alexandrian tradition was conceived and sank its roots amidst strife and intrigue, mistrust and deceit, lies and jealousy, broken oaths and weak bonds. When the roots of the tree are sick, the tree is doomed no matter what. Alex Sanders openly admitted to surrounding himself with people he could take advantage of and was quite opportunistic in this sense, which it’s why for most of his life he got by, telling tall tales and offered initiation to whoever would listen to him. Then one day he had enough of it. He threw his notebook in the fire. He repudiated the tradition he created with the intent to start afresh. Alexandrian tradition officially ended when he died and what later happened to the son he had nominated as his successor (irreversible brain damage), gave it the final rubber stamp.
Balding sack of bones stares at plump pair of titties. Proud owner of such bounty smiles like a Cheshire cat knowing she’s already got one up grandma’s sexy net curtains on the pole standing to her left. Stiff curtain pole projects her inner fury to hubby’s lewd mind.
As the poor attendance at their last two Grand Sabbats proves, each Alexandrians wants to be king and queen of their own castle. We don’t see them jumping to their feet to attend and pay homage to the co-founder. Their loyalty to her extends as far as their self-interest goes – as recent events prompted Karagan had to openly admit on his Facebook page.
Let’s all get rich while we can.
…wrote Karagan Griffith after being pushed in the ditch by the woman he helped get into Maxine Sanders’ good graces. He was all smiles when posing in this photo for her in the days immediately after the Grand Sabbat 2014. Oh, didn’t he just love to piss other Alexandrians off with his new found allegiances!
Christian Day had always had little respect for Alexandrians. Not only he berated Frater Barabbas but who can forget the time he began to insult Sorita D’Este live on one of his podcasts? So this allegiance was something along the logic of shitting on your doorstep before inviting all the neighbours to come and watch you rubbing it all over your face. As anyone could have easily predicted (had they been told in advance), none were too impressed and a scuffle ensued at Treadwell during Jihmal’s book launch.
Until one day….
It was actually 2013 and it wasn’t Maxine Sanders but Sharon Day, an old customer of his, who sought him out on her behalf…
85% buyers of his bullshit are non-practitioners.
What of the remaining 15%? Presumably all Alexandrians.
A long-disillusioned turned cynic Christian Day changed his tune about Alexandrians only when an equally disillusioned Sharon began to speak to him in the only language he understands: the language of money. If it bring customers to his events and business, he will be your best buddy in public for as long as his cash till clings with dollars.
And judging by the way Sorita D’Este raced against Sharon Day and time to secure a speking role at Hexfest 2019, he would have every legitimate right to feel superior to this bunch of squabbling twats, since they seem to need him more than he needs them.
Exactly. Alexandrian wicca made witchcraft a cool subculture; it’s essentially materialistic, fits in perfectly with the modern consumeristic mindset and it’s run by business orienteted people pretending to be mystical and magical. Perfect for the American and Brazilian market. Moderately successful in desperate South Africa. Insipidly savoured, but only when convenient, by Australians.
Much to your amazement, you may find that in this new subculture the same rules don’t apply to everyone, and non-initiates may outrank craft elders and monitor yours and theirs future online activity, even mis-appropriating of whatever intellectual property you might at some point regret to have shared with them online. FIY these non-initiates are: Rhys Bonzy Lavender – webmaster for Alexandrianwitchcraft.org and Maia Honan, Maxine Sanders’ daughter, marketing and co-director at AlexandrianUK Ltd. (It is not clear why she hasn’t added Alexandrianwitchcraftuk Ltd to her LinkedIn resume…something to be ashamed of perhaps?)
Moral of the story, never, ever, trust someone who replaces friends like expendable commodities on a frequent basis. Thier loyalty goes as far as their need of you and then (to paraphrase Maxine Sanders) with a shrug of their shoulders, they’ll tell you they can’t beat themselves over the past….nevertheless, Maxine loves nothing more than to live in the past and profit as much as she can from it.
Failure – to hex, bind and heal must be a bitter pill to swallow when you’ve been telling the world what you were about to do and even took the trouble of flying thousands of miles to get to a special location and hold a Grand Sabbat (yet another Grand Scale Flop). Remember this online bragging when the whole animal sacrifice issue blew up?
And your daughter is a prime example…you stupid cunt.
Lying to oneself, pretending that detractors, harpooners and gossip are defeated while in fact they are tearing you asunder doesn’t make your wishes magically come true and by the look of it neither does Maxine’s magic. You’re both fucking useless, so instead of covering your ears next time someone deals a few home truths on you, if I were you, I’d listen very carefully to what they have to say.
This quote makes Maxine Sanders sounds like one of those Catholic priests harping about god being on their side but we know magic is not partial like the Abrahamic god nor it’s not the exclusive possession of one or two people, a group, a tradition.
Magic will always try to cheat. It’s in its nature to create illusions. It will fool you into convincing yourself you’ve succeeded only to sneak behind you and stab you in the neck just as you rejoice in your results. People who project all sort of nefarious scenarios on their opponents end up believing what they imagine as something that actually happened when in actuality, life goes on as usual with its ups and its downs for thir target. This practice of living in one’s constructed imagination is typical of modern witchcraft and one of the main contributing factors to obsessions and degenerative mental health conditions plaguing the community.
Then you’ll hear Maxine solemly declare, there is a price to pay.
And that’s also not true.
It’s not a price. It’s the most logical cause and effect for letting delusional thinking take the driver seat in your life.
According to Firechild, years before their son Victor was born, Alex and Maxine had already worked out all there was to know about magic and had it all under control. They had so much faith in their own magic, they declared their son would one day succeed his father as King of the witches. Then bit by bit their life began to fall apart at the seams. Barely in his 30s, after years of heroin abuse, the heir to the crown suffered a stroke which left him in a semi-vegetative state and severe irreversible brain damage. As in Jonathan Strange and Dr. Norrell tv series, it seems the fairies took the spirit with them and left an empty shell behind. Folklore is full of similar tales of people who brought suffering upon themselves as a consequence of reckless dabblings motivated by greed and vainglorious pursuits that could not be found in their book of life.
So let me rephrase Maxine’s quote for you, “Fate will not be cheated – don’t even think you can overwrite it with magic.”
Fucking cursing and fucking healing, again, for the zillionth time…like that’s all the use you’ve got for magic.
Another article by someone who is repeating what they have read or heard somewhere. How original. How fucking controversial.
Neither Maxine or Alex wanted to intentionally curse their son but like a greek tragedy, that’s exactly what they did while in prey of mindless grandiosity. In the case of magical practitioners, most curses are self-inflicted with their own arrogance.
Perhaps, it is that just about anyone with the right resources at hand can become a public figure and puppet leader – much like anyone with sufficient funds can run for president in the US – but binding and cursing is not for everyone. To truly become a living scourge for another requires a certain skill and frame of consciousness that is seldom fostered within consumer orientated traditions and wiccan kitsch.
There’s a fair chance the consciousness I am talking about has nothing to do with any magical training Maxine Sanders would be acquainted with and remains secret to most simply because the ability to curse is a recessive trait some people are born with and they cannot help – only learn to control.
The ability to heal in humans comes from the external environment. It can be medicine plants or it can be a deity. Either way, humans may be able to alleviate pain but cannot heal because we are all subject to disease and death, and as such, the amount of life force at our disposal is sufficient for one individual alone.
The misconception linking cursing to healing endures because modern witches still can’t tell the difference between a curse and magical warfare tactics.
On the same account, Reiki is not witchcraft but a westernised new age fad that found its way in Alexandrian lore since Maxine Sanders developed an interest in it. It brings back memories of those fucking power rods and the days we all had to stand in circle, around a photograph of this woman called Francis. Our coven leaders would tell us to build our golden crosses, extend our right hand and send blue light, then gold, then blue again while intoning “sinew to sinew and bone to bone, muscle to muscle and vein to vein, make the body whole gain.” It felt like a Star Wars meet Jesus Christ scenario with Gerald Gardner thrown in. You could almost hear the atmosphere around us groan in exasperation “Not again!” These power rods never made a bliding bit of difference unless doctors prescribed this whiny old cunt friend of Maxine, strong enough medication. She was an ageing self-entitled cunt who thought people owed her their energy.
Kubler Ross is another psycho-pop fad aimed at inducing a placebo effect on those the technique is applied to. If you so shit your pants at the prospect of dying and need some sort of a tampon to prevent your fear from leaking, go for it but don’t go boasting about refinement, refusing to dilute rituals or being true to the Art Magical because these fads are anything but Art Magical.
So, what is the problem with saying it like it is?
And please, less of this bullshit about not seeking converts because that’s exactly what all these crocodile tears and online propaganda are about.