Archive for January, 2013

The Ellisian Hypersigil

Ok, so I’m going to assume you guys know what a Sigil is (I explained it pretty well in my Banana Thing post, I think)

So, with a Hypersigil, instead of taking a small thought and condensing it down into a symbol, you take a Big thought and condense it down- and it can be anything: music, literature, interpretive dance, or even a poorly crafted weird audiovisual clip on youtube, which is what I did.

It came about in an online occult forum a few years ago.  There was this asshole, who was forever abusing people for their ideas in the study of magick, bullying people and demanding reproducible proof- and I’m sure somewhere in there he was trying to play devils advocate and keep people honest (which is a Crucial thing when dealing with a subject so easily lost to idle fancy and bullshit as magick)- but he crossed the line over into being a pretentious dick. 

Finally after some months and a number of nasty altercations, he threw down the gauntlet of “if you people have all these powers, why don’t you just go get the million dollars offered by James Randi?” (the professional skeptic who is offering a million dollars for anyone who can prove any form of the supernatural under carefully controlled scientific test conditions- I’ll post later as to why that’s as rigged as a shell-game), I finally got Officially Pissed Off.

I took him up on this offer, came up with a proposal, and submitted it to Mr. Randi’s website.  Unfortunately, due to his criteria and the nature of my proposal, I didn’t get a response.  My proposal was this: He could choose the most skeptical member of his organization, and I could make that person Believe in the supernatural, with one symbol, viewed once a day, for one month.  I assume this was too subjective or open to interpretation to be verified by his scientific process.

However, after a couple weeks and a snarky comment by this fellow, I threw the challenge to Him- I would change his skeptical worldview (for all he claimed to believe in magick) with one sigil.  All he had to do was look at the thing.  He accepted, and I began.

I was going to fuck up his world.  This asshole was going to wind up gibbering in the corner. 

I was going to Get Him.

I dragged out some paper and got to work. 

It became immediately evident that for this to work, it was going to have to be more complex than I had the talent to impart to a mere scrawled figure.  The answer was a Hypersigil. 

I don’t even remember what all I put into and condensed into the spell before I wrote it out in my own rune alphabet.  I know what it says, and it means that, but Pages of thought went into a few comparatively simple lines.  I do know this though- the horror and madness I had intended to inflict on this guy- I couldn’t do it.   At my core, I’m a nice guy.  A Goodguy, in fact.  I didn’t really want to Get him, I wanted him to Get It.  I wanted Everyone to Get It, and instead of vengeance I lost myself in a magickal work that evolved into something… else.  Something to lead people to the world alive with wonder, just half a thought a way, where the dreams live, where wishes are there for the asking, and the possible stretches to the limits of imagination, where Real becomes a spectrum, and we can take a hand in the writing of our own stories.  You know- the world of Magick. 

So I scribbled and wrote, and funneled all the magick and soul I could muster into it.  And I filmed all the various bits. Then I laid it all out in a circle on the floor, intending to get some decent motion shots.   As I strode around the circle, something took hold- an ecstatic frenzy of sorts.  Round and round, and leaping over, and round some more, and finally, camera abandoned, in the center of this paper circle I’d cast upon the floor, I stood bellowing to the gods I know not what.

Spent, I collapsed to the floor.

I came to my senses sometime later.

I cut all the footage together in a weird sort of animation that was strangely compelling, but it wasn’t complete.  That’s when I created the audio- the text of the spell, layered over and over itself- I must admit, it broke my brain a little the first time I heard it all together.  And mixing the audio and the visual, though less of an editorial nightmare than valid film, was a frustrating endeavor.

Finally finished, I posted it in the forum.  The guy wasn’t impressed. (surprise, surprise).  However, I was interested to note that he quit being a bullying asshole.  In fact, he turned to his own projects, published two books he had been sitting on for some years and opened a website teaching his own brand of occult philosophy, and to my knowledge, was happy leading the life he wanted.

The making of this Hypersigil, also marked the beginning of the path that led me out of retail hell, and into my current life traveling the world with the love of my life, bringing music, magick, and wonder wherever we go, and I get to be Me for a living.

Another friend of mine (who until that point had been beaten to the point of accepting the five year abusive relationship she was in) moved into their spare bedroom, got three jobs, and worked till she had enough money for her and her son to leave the sorry bastard.

One guy blames me for his house spontaneously catching on fire, but it turned out to be the impetus for extremely positive life change.

There are more.

What this hypersigil Seems to do, is to facilitate and empower you to find your proper path in life.  However, if your path is supposed to be traveling north/northwest, but you’re headed southerly, Well, things might get a little hairy in the process of your realignment, if you take my meaning.  But if you’re at a crossroads, with no clear direction in mind and feel you need a little help- Hey it works Great!

So here it is, The Ellisian Hypersigil:

works best with headphones, without distractions.  Just watching it does the trick, apparently, but additional empowerment and or openness certainly couldn’t hurt.

The Witchengine Protocol



So, here we have The Witchengine Protocol.  It is, more or less, a magickal energy filter/generator, simple and highly effective.  It is a construct, somewhere between Sigil and Servitor, and makes for an excellent addition to talismans and such.   Properly crafted, the sigil does what it does, and requires no “firing” much like the Ellis sigil.

The concept of the Witchengine Protocol came about many years ago, and was developed by my brother Silenced, and we would bind the concept (much like a computer program for reality) into a physical edifice- usually a stone sphere or obelisk, but the enchantment was unweildy.  I mean, sure, we could give people the rock and it would work, but as far as a large scale “here, have an effective magickal energy filter/generator to do with as you will”, it wasn’t very functional. 

I finally managed to distill the concept into a Sigil form, for widespread use.  What it essentially does is (see input on picture above)  it gathers incoming or ambient energy (you can program the input to take in any sort of energy you wish via your intent as you draw it- it’s a good idea to program it to not try to eat your other magickal endeavors, for instance) and draws it into the box.  The intent behind the straight and spiky nature of the input is to break up and confound the incoming energies into more or less random harmless bits.

Now, once this energy has been funneled into the center of the construct, this is where the filtering happens- and you must consider this blank space and the action of the output with intent as you draw it- its flow is reversed and forced into the smooth flowing lines of the output (see above) and into whatever use you wish to put it, whether it be powering a talisman (works beautifully bound inside a protective talisman) or other magickal working, or just leaving it running like an air filter in places that have the “Ick” or to keep the energies in your house nice and fresh. 

 I have bound this symbol, using the linking sigil concept, to the original Witchengine Protocol, and it is this that aids in the filtering, and provides a little extra spin on the backend.

I hope you find this useful.

Glamourbomb girl

Here’s an essay for my upcoming occult book “Wizardnuts…

The Glamourbomb Girl.

I was sitting outside the coffeeshop one night by myself.  I had been entertaining the vain hope that some wonderfully interesting Someone would arrive, but alas, as usual…
I was bored, so I decided to make a nifty little glamourbomb to leave there.
Glamourbomb? The concept is simple- an unexpected statement or image that you charge up like a spell so as to impart your message to whoever finds the thing.  It’s the willful empowerment that gives it the extra oomph.  The door is opened by the curiosity of the thing, it’s unexpected or insightful nature slipping past the target’s usual filters, and the charged aspect drives the thought deep into their psyche like a nailgun, so it sticks with them.
That’s the concept anyway.
I had written up a scroll on heavy brown paper that said:
Magick Is Real
with a bunch of nifty occult symbols, including the Ellis sigil.
Live your Dreamings…  It said at the bottom.
I discovered to my dismay that I didn’t have any string to tie it with.
I was going to bind a large crystal I had in my pocket to it as well, because it’s sparkly, artsy, and the ubiquitous AA battery of the occult world and would serve to turn the thing from a simple scrap of paper into a real Thing.
The planter box next to where I was sitting was sown with coarse, tough, decorative grass, so I plucked three strands and started braiding them together into a long cord, the loose ends clamped in my teeth, when the three girls showed up.
They were junior-high-ish, I suppose.  One of their parents had dropped them off, and they came flouncing by talking about some boy or another they thought they might call.  They noticed me there on my brick wall perch, and the Brave one,
the Loud one,
the Flounciest one,
beamed and waved and said “Hello!”, more for the benefit of her companions to show how brave she was, to be flirty with some cute-ish, obviously older guy rather than any impetus of being friendly.
I thanked my lucky stars I wasn’t in junior-high anymore as they went inside, and I returned to my braiding.
It was a bit tricky, as I was having to roll each strand ropelike, and hold them apart without breaking it, not get confused which strand went where,  And hold the whole mess in my teeth.   That’s when the girls came back out.  
I suppose I was the most interesting thing going on just then.
The Brave one walked up to me, told me her name, and asked me what I was doing.  I guess I found her bravado offputting, or maybe I don’t like being used by someone to show off to their little friends.  She wasn’t being rude or anything- but it was clear that I was merely a bit of set dressing in her scene.
I am not someone to be encountered lightly.
Especially when I’m Wizarding.
So I told her.
“Magick.” I said, around the grass clenched in my teeth.  I began to explain what a glamourbomb was, but she wasn’t listening a bit.
“What’s this?” she said over me, snatching up the scroll and unrolling it.
She looked down at it.
I Felt this thing go off, saw it drive deep into her mind, and she kind of jumped, rocking back on her heels with the force of it.
I just kept up my explanation.  
She rolled the scroll back up, and set it down gently beside me.
Her friends asked me a few questions, which I answered, but the Brave girl, the Brazen Flouncy Loud girl, had gone Quiet.
She turned without a word and walked out into the parking lot, not stopping when her friends called after her.
She stood in the halo of a streetlight staring up into the sky.
Her two friends were discussing her odd behavior when, I think, everything I’d been saying for the last few minutes clicked in their brains.  They favored me with uncomfortable looks, before excusing themselves and went to sit down on a bench a ways down the sidewalk.
I finished the braid, bound the scroll, tied on the crystal and wrote ‘Open Me’ on it, and breathed magick upon it.  
I’d had enough for one evening.
As I gathered my stuff and started to go, that girl, now quiet and subdued, caught my eye as she stood beside her friends.  Her gaze was serious, a little frightened, a little sad.
She gave me a small smile and a tiny wave.
I nodded at her gravely, shot her a wink and a grin full of mischief, and went on my merry way.

another one for “Wizardnuts”, don’t know what to call it.

As we bounced and crunched and slid along the freshly graveled road that led to the set we were dressing I Noticed the bush-hog mowing down the thick brush that had grown up around the buildings.  Now, when I say Noticed, I don’t mean merely seeing the thing and recognizing it as a bush-hog.  Something about it set off my subtle spidey-sense, something about it Echoed through the Force, or something to that effect anyway.  Something about rocks.
I wasn’t really paying attention though, as so often happens, more engrossed in the task at hand, and which truck had which set pieces and so forth.
I pulled the truck off the road toward the end of the buildings, ahead of the others, and the bush-hog trundled our way to mow just on the other side of the road.  I really didn’t like it being that close.  Part of that is common sense, of course, but this had a Particular warning buzz to it.
It was making me nervous.
But I still wasn’t really paying attention as I hopped out of the truck and wandered back to the others.  One of them needed help unloading a large table, and I discovered I had left my gloves in my truck.
I didn’t want to walk over there, the bush-hog was just across the road and there were piles of fresh gravel along the roadside.  The thing about Bush-hog, and Rocks kept nagging in my mind enough that I thought about it for a moment before I finally made up my mind just to go get my gloves and be quick about it.
I kept an eye on the Bush-hog as I quickly made my way, half expecting at any second to get pelted with some small stone or another, and it’s lucky that I was looking, for it was no small bit of rock that caused the horrible Bang and made the the Bush-hog leap a foot off the ground in an explosion of debris.
You know how they say time slows down?  Perhaps our perception speeds up.  Whichever the case, I saw as if in slow motion half of a solid concrete block come flying out from under the thing.
I had time to think “Oh, this is what that “Rock” business was about…” as I saw the blades spinning while the mower deck was tilted up, spitting out a shower of slagged concrete.
One of those chunks was the size of a baseball, and jagged.  It sort of glowed like a black streak in my vision as it left the underside of the mower and sped toward my face.
I was still in the midst of my reactive flinch from the noise of it, and I willed myself to turn just a little further, fighting physics to move.
It whipped my hair as it passed between my hat and my shoulder, missing by perhaps two inches.
I had turned away enough that I saw it plough a furrow through the grass about twenty feet behind me, pop up again, and go sailing across the next road.
All of that took less than a second.
It wasn’t one of those moments of narrowly avoided death that leave you strangely invigorated and doing a little dance that you’re alive.
This was one of those sobering ones, where you feel the need to sit down for a minute, call your loved ones just to tell them that you love them, and spend a couple of hours reflecting on life.
The point of this story, was that I Knew.  I saw it coming.  Exactly what? No. But it involved that Mower and Rock and Bad.  I knew it the second I saw the Bush-hog.
But I wasn’t paying close enough attention.
I didn’t listen to what I Knew.
And it damned near cost me my Life.

Whether it’s our own intuition, guardian angel, God, Gods, or the universe at large, there’s something that whispers in our minds, warning us of danger, guiding our steps in the right direction, if only we can learn to listen to it.
This story was one of the loud and dramatic examples, where it was veritably waving flags and hollering through a bullhorn.  I Know how to listen. And still I didn’t really.
I firmly believe that if I hadn’t at least been paying attention enough to be aware of the potential threat so I wasn’t taken by surprise,  I wouldn’t have managed to dodge it and I’d be dead or maimed. But if I’d Really been paying attention, I wouldn’t have been standing there to begin with, I would have dodged it before it even came to pass.
It doesn’t just crop up in times of extreme danger- it’s there all the time.
Most of the time, with this sense, it’s subtle, and if your mind is clouded or too loud with other thoughts you’ll hardly notice it was even there.  But part of you knows.
I mean, how many times have you said to yourself “I knew I should’ve…” ?  Really think about that.
Well, you Did know.
Why didn’t you listen?
This sense, this instinct, intuition, this whisper- if we can learn to listen, and to Trust that small quiet voice, to allow ourselves to Know, our lives can become ever so much easier, quite apart from avoiding an untimely demise, you’ll find you’ll have everything handled before it becomes an issue.
It doesn’t always make sense, and it’s a slippery slope to go chasing down every errant thought in your head- that way lies madness.
Begin by merely paying attention to all those “I knew I should’ve”s.
you’ll start to get a feel for what’s likely and what’s not.  And even with the unlikely ones, merely being aware that the possibility exists can be enough to save your ass in a tight spot, as I illustrated in my story.

so, this is a short story I wrote for a pagan fiction anthology called etched offerings.  Of course the amusing bit is: it wasn’t fiction.  Faithfully recounted, as close as I could get it to what happened, in the third person.  hope you like it.

The Banana Thing

“So, sigils,” Arjil said “the basic method is to take your statement of intent- ‘I Want A Banana’, for instance”
He scribbled a finger through the air as if he were writing it out.
“Then you cross out all the redundant letters”
They all watched his swishing finger crossing out the imaginary letters in the air, as if he were actually Doing something.
Most of them were straight up muggles- the younger crowd, elder-teens to twenty-not-much  that hung around the coffeeshop.  A couple of them had gotten into ghost hunting, and in their quest for spooks had freaked themselves out, now they were full of all sorts of questions for the resident weirdo experts.  Arjil was known throughout the coffeeshop crowd as the go-to weirdo for any odd or Other sorts of happenings.
“Then you take the letters left over and combine them into a symbol of sorts- this helps take your intent from your conscious mind to the subconscious, and frees you up to throw your energy at it without having to hold it in your mind”
Robert, the Wiccan flavored resident weirdo expert chimed in. “Just like I was saying about the ritual tools, being a place holder, a symbol for certain thoughts so you can focus more on your intent.”
“Precisely” Arjil nodded.  He doubted if the muggle kids followed even half of their lively debate on the differing perspectives of viewing and dealing with all things supernatural over the last hour or so, sitting out there on the sidewalk, but they listened intently.  Perhaps they’d learned something.
“So, you take this symbol you’ve made” Arjil mimed picking up the imaginary symbol “and you throw the voo at it.”
He made a grand spellcasting gesture with his other hand, and accidentally let power slip into the thought, infusing this imaginary symbol he had, apparently, created.   He felt the stirring of magick and the symbol in his mind shined as it started to go off.
“What the fuck?” He snorted shaking his head, “I don’t wanna cast Banana!”
He crumpled the imaginary sigil into a ball and pretended to toss it away. “No tellin’ what the hell that would do.”
He was just screwing around really, more for the entertainment of  Robert and Olin than anything.  It was just a silly little wizard joke, and they all chuckled at the preposterous notion of accidentally casting Banana.
For about thirty seconds.
“I smell bananas” said one of the kids on the far side of the table.
Everybody kind of laughed.
Arjil figured he was just going along with the joke.  All in good fun.
“No, really, I smell bananas”
“what the hell? I do too”
Wide eyes turned to Arjil as pervasive, unmistakable Banana-whiff came from some mysterious somewhere and descended on the coffeeshop.
Arjil blinked as the smell hit him “what the?…”
Olin died laughing “You just cast Banana.  Dude, I am so never letting you forget this”
“But I didn’t… I mean… I didn’t Mean to cast anything.”
“That’s what makes it fucking funny.” Olin laughed.
“I cannot believe you just did that” Robert choked out, wiping the mirth from his eyes.
“Yeah well, it happens.” said Arjil, with a bemused chuckle..
The muggle contingent just stared, a couple grinning broadly, the rest looking uncomfortable.   Arjil recognized those looks, the dawning comprehension that they had just witnessed bang-done magick.  Right there.
Wild mirth bubbled and rolled from him with a secret glee- they could never un-see that, or un-smell it in this case, but whatever- they would remember, Forever, that magick was real.
Truly that was his mission in this life- to make people see it, to let them believe as they once did, to put that childlike Wonder back into a world gone too cynical.  Whether it was some grand design of the Gods that put him here, or his own Mad impossible quest taken up in self defense against the mundanity he despised, he didn’t know.  He just knew it was what he had to do.  His great Work.  And if it took accidentally casting Banana in front of a bunch of muggles to do it, he was cool with that.
“And That, friends, is why you should always be careful what you wish for.” Said Arjil, seriously.
Everybody laughed again, except for Olin.
Olin got it.
The young man who had started the questions was on about Crossroads, and what constituted a crossroad, and if you had to agree to whatever deal the devil you supposedly met there offered in order to lose your soul like an old blues-man, or if it just happened.
Arjil and Robert both pointed in unison to the intersection just behind them..
“That’s a Crossroads?” Young Adam asked, looking nervous and excited at the same time.
“Any place where two paths cross each other” Said Robert.  “Could be roads, could be rabbit trails in the woods, whatever”
“Or figurative rather than literal” said Arjil,
“The Devil,” he quirked his fingers in quotation marks, ” can show up any place where your life can turn one way or another.  A whole lot of things qualify as crossroads”
“But” Young Adam said, “does it have to be a verbal agreement?”
“You just have to agree. To choose it.” said Arjil.
“Isn’t there supposed to be a contract or something?”
“You just have to agree” Robert echoed.
Arjil was impressed that Robert understood the subtle nature of the magick of crossroads, he seemed young for it, but he had been to war twice now, so he had dealt with crossroads a plenty.
Perhaps sometimes a shadowy figure, some Loa or old god, or the Devil himself did literally show up with an offer.  Most of the time it was just choices- left, right, or keep on truckin’.
Most of the time.
Sometimes there Was somebody there, and Arjil had the odd, sobering feeling that this time, that somebody was him.
“So what is it you’re wanting from a crossroads?” Arjil asked, fixing the young man with a shrewd look.
“What I really want is to find the real deal, to see the supernatural.” Young Adam said. “Do you guys know any places to go? I mean we’ve been to graveyards and down haunted roads and we’ve found some cold spots and things, but…”
“Look” Arjil interrupted “Magick is tricky.  It’s subtle. Most of these things you’re looking for aren’t exactly Here.  They’re somewhere Else- just on the other side of the fence so to speak.  That’s why you mostly can’t see them except as shadows or glimmers out of the corner of your eye.  The specific where doesn’t really matter- it’s everywhere. Its just that in most places that fence, or Veil as some call it,  is too thick to see through. Some places though, the Veil is thin. What you need to learn to find is a Between place.  That’s where the magick happens.”
“What do you mean?” ”
“In the middle of a doorway, alleys, crossroads, clearings in the woods, between two trees, anywhere between here and there, really.  I don’t know why, but they’ve got a particular Resonance to them, a kind of buzz that, once you know what you’re looking for you’ll find them all over the place if you think about them right.  Perhaps because they’re not exactly places, most people don’t think about them much, so they’re free of the static influences of consensual reality and thus the reality of such places is  rendered more mutable- but that’s an entirely different conversation.  Anyway, there’s a big one just down the street.”
Young Adam looked confused for a moment, then he hung his head thinking hard.
“Lets go, right now” He said, trying to be cool and casual, but Arjil could feel the excitement, the wanting of it brewing in him.
“Yup.” thought Arjil “Guess I am, in fact, the Devil at the crossroads tonight.”
He considered for a moment how he felt about that. This was actually a slightly perilous bit of knowledge he was about to teach this kid, and he knew from hard experience that one could get into all sorts of trouble.  Becoming aware of multilayered reality could well break somebody’s brain- and you couldn’t go back, that door closed behind you.
But the he had asked for it.  It’s what he wanted. He had already chased the mystery to this particular crossroads and he had already accepted the deal.  Arjil shrugged and nodded.  This was the sort of thing he did.
“Sure” he said, as he stood up, killed the cold dregs of his coffee, and took up his walking stick with a broad grin “Who else is coming?”
Robert, Olin, Young Adam, a widely grinning kid and his nervous looking girlfriend all followed Arjil as they set off down the street.
They stopped in the middle of a strip of old buildings where one had been torn out, the vestiges of old plaster still clinging to the weathered bricks, the foundation buckled and shot through with weeds.  “This,” said Arjil “is a Between place.”
He could feel the prickle along his skin as he stepped over the threshold where the wall once stood.   He walked with arms outstretched and half lidded eyes till he reached the exact center of the place, where the streetlight was cut off by the buildings shadow.  He loved places like this, so full of possibility, the twilight feeling where anything can happen, and he smiled as he felt the magick ghost around him like a misty cat rubbing against his form.
They all followed- Robert and Olin cautiously, as they could feel it too, Young Adam looking thoughtful, and Grinning boy and Nervous girl huddled together with the resonance kids have on a spookyfun adventure.
“I don’t feel anything” said Young Adam.
“They do. Don’t you?”Arjil said gesturing to Robert and Olin. “Kind of a… buzz, a vibration.”
Olin grinned his maniac grin and nodded- he looked like a demented pointy toothed scarecrow when he got like that.
“Oh yeah,” said Robert. “Stand where he is and close your eyes, tell me what you feel” he gestured for Arjil to step aside.  Young Adam came to stand in the spot, turning in a slow circle.
“I don’t know, like a hum sort of, like a car with lots of base coming down the road from far off or something, kinda.”
“Yes!” said Arjil “That’s the Resonance.”
“Now,” said Robert “what’s really going to screw with you later is if you really felt it, or you just felt it because he said you would.”
Arjil laughed “That’s the bitch of the whole business- most of the time you’re left wondering if that was Really there, or if you just made something out of nothing.  It’s really hard not to go off the deep end- like Ronnie.”
They all knew who Ronnie was.
“You mean mister ‘I stubbed my toe so it must be the work of the arch overfiend lords of hell out to get me’ or ‘I went to a graveyard and the wind blew so Azazimbulakgresheshal the seventh demon of the underworld was coming to eat my soul’?”  Said Olin, his basso voice rumbling with contempt.
“Precisely” said Arjil.
“Fuckin’ dumbass” said Olin.
“So this is the sort of place ghosts and things happen?” Adam asked, looking around as if he expected some kind of spook to come shambling out of the darkness.
“Yeah, only, most of the time it doesn’t happen.  Most of the time you just get a shivery feeling like you’re being watched, maybe see something out of the corner of your eye, like I said.  But it’s more Likely to happen in places like this.  The Veil’s pretty darn thin here.  Think I’ll wake it up.”
“Ah shit” said Olin as Arjil produced a pen and crossed to one of the walls.
“Are you doing what I Think you’re doing?” Said Robert, his tone somewhere between disapproval and amusement.
Arjil grinned and nodded as he drew the sigil, then turned and went to tag the other side of the alley.
“What’s he doing?” said Young Adam walking over to the wall to see what he had done.
“Well,” said Arjil, turning from his work with a flourish “you remember what I said about Sigils right?  I made one that acts as a crack in the fabric of reality.  It lets the magick seep through more readily to this side of the fence.. And anyone who… Oh, too late.”
Young Adam was peering intently at the symbol on the wall.  It was innocuous looking enough- just an L cut through with a lightning bolt S.  It had arrows on all the ends, and a small dot off to one side.
“What?” said the Grinning Boy
Arjil turned to the two standing in the shadows “Well, part of the intent was to put a splinter in peoples minds if they saw the thing, a doubt, a seed of Wonder. Aside from making their worlds a little more interesting for a bit, it helps make reality itself a little more mutable for those with the knack, by loosening the bonds of consensual reality.”
“More interesting How?” asked the Nervous Girl
Olin coughed significantly, and they all turned toward the mouth of the alley, where a black cat was crossing.  It stopped and stared at them for a long moment, before carrying on with business of its own.
“Like that.” Said Robert.
“Now,” said Arjil, unable to contain his grin,”that Could have just been coincidence.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t” said Olin.
“No, but still. That’s how it happens.” Arjil turned to Young Adam “most of the time, that’s as much as you get.  Could be coincidence.  But Olin, Robert, and I  Know it wasn’t.  Of course we could be deluded or wanting things to be real, but- That Just Happened.  How you choose to take it is up to you, and what kind of world you want to live in.  Want to live in a world where magick happens?- there you go.  If not” he shrugged “you can just write it off and forget about it”
“Nobody’s ever forgetting that you accidentally cast Banana.”  Said Olin, laughing again.
“Point.” said Arjil, and led the way back to the coffeeshop.

Now here’s the really amusing thing about this- so I get home and text my girl who was off in Missouri- right after I get done telling her about it the guy she was staying with walks in with a bunch of bananas and has no idea why he bought them.

So, Then she says “since you’re on a roll, I’ll take a chocolate milkshake”. That was amusing so I do the thing again as a joke and think no more of it.  The next day she’s driving and stops somewhere, and since she’s got this milkshake craving she orders one with lunch. Once she’s back in the car, she looks at the recipt- they didn’t charge her for the milkshake.  I used magick to get my love a chocolate milkshake. bang, I win!