A Devil on One Shoulder and a Genius on the Other

Although some of my whining might have given the wrong impression, the fact is that my ongoing research and experiments in the Western Ceremonial tradition have been an absolute blast.  I’ve already learned so much, and I know that I’ve barely scratched the surface.  Fuck: the year I’ve set myself to this subject will not be enough time to do more that scratch the surface thoroughly, and probably not even that.

Before Sthenno pointed me to Rufus Opus’ blog about six months ago, I had never even heard of the Natal Genius or Evil Daimon.  With the help of Frater Acher’s spreadsheet, I was able to calculating mine without slogging through the abominable and obnoxious translations of Agrippa that I have so far been able to put my hands on (they may or may not be accurate, but they’re mind-crushingly dull to read, and I already have to put up with enough bad academic writing in class).  But, at least in part because I have not been able to make my way through Agrippa, I’m not entirely certain what to do with them.

RO has spoken of binding the Evil Daimon, though later that was discussed as being more a matter of last resort (can’t find that post back to cite, sorry).  Punching “having calculated my ‘natal genius’, what do i do with it?” into Google got me more RO, linking the Natal Genius to the HGA.

Now that I’ve finally stumbled across a method of conjuration that I think I can work with, the question of “what do I do with my natal spirits” becomes a great deal less academic.  I can’t think of a better place to  take my experiments with spirit conjuration (thus far limited to the Stele of Jeu) next.  Can you?

The major thing holding me back at this very moment is that, in the absence of any actual knowledge of the subject, I find myself imagining my natal spirits as a cartoon angel and demon, sitting on my shoulders.  I imagine the one extolling me to activism, devotion, and random acts of goodness that I can’t name off the top of my head; I imagine the other encouraging me to seduce, to take vengeance, and to throw down and party like I never have before.  Neither one will let me sleep.  Sleep is for the weak.