Intergalactic Summit

"You have your fabric, and I have the pattern." -Ode to a Poppet. (Anon).

Hello!

My name is Aasakaa aka 'Gypsy Secora' Amun, travelling tribal witch, all-in-one astrologer, psychic reader, horoscopist, accredited hypnotist, future-predictor, yule-popper and erbalist (n.b. the silent 'h' is important).

Over the coming minutes, hours or days (I wonder) or for however long everyone's patience holds, I offer my services to all exquisite capsuleers of the InterGalactic Summit species in any of the capacities listed above -at no incurred fee at all whatsoever -because I believe in a submerged altruism within all of us, pet.

To wit: With all the deadly serious chitter-chatter in this place about Sarums, Luminaires, the Vylade Dockers' Union and so-and-so, often-times it's (what we in the trade call) 'karma-regenerative' for one to settle back in one's Captain's Quarters' cot with a comfy gingham quilt and a pair of scarlet Guristas' slippers after a long day contributing something averagely grotesque and/or twee to a debate, closing one's eyes and reflecting instantaneously or perhaps moreso. But, as we all know in our dank, foul, heart of hearts, sometimes un-spoken questions arise from the dark unfathomably deep waters in one's soul in the wee hours, before or after forty winks, that cannot be answered directly by the suddenly curious lay-woman or hopelessly desperate amateur, dearie.

What might some of those questions be, do you suppose? I'd hazard a guess or two:

"I am so uncertain about this something that is nagging at my conscience -but who in the Summit do I consult for solid psychic advice? I wish there was someone out there to listen to me and to guide me".

"I am a capsuleer born under the cusps of the Piscii, the Tauri and the Leonides. Am I truly Thrice Immortal?"

Maybe this is you. If so, I can help.

Lest we dwell upon the meta-philisophicals for far, far too long, perhaps one is drawn to mere fleshy quibbles of the frailest heart instead, such as:

"Do I secretly yearn for an essential oil to betwitch another? I wish there was someone who knew that recipe, because yes, I do yearn for capsuleer x".

*

Now, and appropriately, a plea that you may find within yourselves to ask:

"I invite the numinous spirit that resides within this simple witch to guide my hand, and my inquiry. Please help me find wisdom."

Maybe this is you too. If so, I can help.

All you need do is to ask me a single question of a personal nature that perplexes you about your own future or your celestial alignment or a choice of a simple potion and so on and so forth and it will be answered through me, as a mere corporeal conduit or tool chosen by the Fates themselves.

Remember: One single question only per capsuleer.

Peace, and with foxy magicks,

"Gypsy Secora".

Dear Scherezad, thank you for your worrisome mail -it took real courage to send it -but- my dear, this is elementary stuff for the everyday travelling prognosticator.

"Practice the magicks and let go of expectations" -Mother Skunk.

I know a distressed Vherokior woman who had a similar problem but overcame it, just like so.

The key to the door is to be at peace with yourself, Scherezad. Towards that end, try laying a finely woven quilt or blanket on the floor. Light seven candles and place them on the blanket one at each corner and the remaining three to form a triangle large enough to sit upon it at the very center.

Lightly sprinkle some long-limbed roe powder over the candles. Between the candles at each corner, lay a row of unopened spiced wine bottles on the outer edges, very precisely. Sit in the middle of the triangle and close your eyes. Sit as still as a statue and think of nothing but the sight of Tanoo or Sasta turning super-nova, brightly, in the night skies (always works for me).

Once you know the moment is right (and you will) -snuff out the candles with your left hand. Gather everything on the blanket, open one bottle, pour into a small bowl with the roe powder until the mixture appears as a fine indigo liquid to you. Place this in a hot cup of water and stir vigorously with a cinnamon stick. Drink this tea and you should begin to feel a sense of connection to your previous self.

G.S.

That was a deeply moving, albeit torrid, mail that I received from you today, pet. But it's alright. Know that you are not a victim. Rather, you are a spiritual being with great power and strength.

Here is an old, old, rancid kinetic ward. I often chant this in cases of unrequited love, which is usually all the time whilst commoding with the ancestral spirits on an archaic river banke.

'Oh Hops and Vine, take leave of me, take yee to dark woods, where no body roams, no steed stirs and no birds alights. Hops and Vine, take yee to a fleet running stream, on which no body rows. Take leave of me and wend your way by tempestuous winds, go yee hither by wind. Attach yourself to an evil one, who thinks evil thoughts of me (Lyn Farel), to him that does no good attach yee - yet rid me of thy ills forever more.'

Peace, poppet.

'G.S.'

I'm amused. New Age mumbo-jumbo, certainly, but still, quite amusing.

Understand ye whenever ye have need of any thing, once in the month, and better it be when the moon is full and wanes not, then shall ye assemble in some secret, turgid place (Hek) and adore the spirit of She, who is Witch of All Witches. There shall ye assemble, ye who are fain to learn all sorcery, yet have not won its deepest secrets; to these will She teach things that are yet unknown. And she shall be free from slavery; and as a sign that ye be really free, ye shall be naked in your rites; and ye shall dance, sing, feast, make haye and grindeth the nourishing oats, all in Her praise.

-The Muesli of Melancholia ('G.S.' YC 112)

She did indeed tell me... something.