Witchcraft – Path of the Seasons

The practice of Witchcraft is eclectic, syncretic and individualistic – here we describe some common

Following our initiation into Witchcraft yesterday, we are nowadays in the fortunate position of having a variety of books to inform us as to practice and procedure, even if we are a solitary Witch. There are also online courses, as we will see in our concluding article, and established pagan organisations, such as the Children of Artemis and the Pagan Federation. Other sites provide useful forums for discussion, such as the UK Pagan Valley. In the US, large sites such as The Witches Voice act as contact clearing-houses for practitioners to contact each other.

Originally, information was passed by copying a Book of Shadows and adding one’s own experience to the various spells, rituals and creeds contained within the book.

A survey of the variety of books now available on Witchcraft will demonstrate the common elements of the Craft, as it is sometimes abbreviated. In this abbreviation, as many other elements, Witchcraft has more in common with Freemasonry than any other religious system. This is no surprise as Gerald Gardner, the ‘father’ of the witchcraft revival, was a freemason himself and drew on a variety of sources when creating the rituals and tenets of the Craft.

The common elements of praxis include:

• The observation and celebration of the eight festivals or Sabbats: four astronomical, four agricultural – Samhain (Halloween), Yule, Imbolc, Spring Equinox, Beltane, Midsummer, Lughnasadh (Lammas), and the Autumn Equinox.

• The observation of the cycle of the Moon, with rituals, or Esbats, conducted on the Full Moon, and sometimes on the New Moon.

• The importance of Initiation, whether by a group or as a self-defined ritual, into the tradition.

• Rites of Passage, such as handfasting (marriage)

• A Book of Shadows, in which to record the workings of the coven or one’s own solitary and individual workings.

• The use of ritual tools, such as the Pantacle, symbolising the element of Earth.

Although an initiatory stream flowed from Gerald Gardner, another stream later flowed from Alex Sanders, who was self-styled King of the Witches and added elements of ceremonial magick to his practice originally taken from Gardner. Sanders initiated many people during the sixties, who in turn popularised Witchcraft during that time. Thus, Witches tracing their initiatory lineage to either of these two influential figures are referred to as Gardnerian or Alexandrian.

Both Gardnerian, Alexandrian, and many other covens, operate a three-degree system of initiation (similar to the three Craft Degrees of Freemasonry). The first degree initiates the candidate into the Craft, the second degree recognises their advancement into a Priest or Priestess of the Craft. The third degree, the highest, is unique in that it involves a symbolic sex-act referred to as the Great Rite to initiate the candidate as a High Priest or Priestess. This Great Rite is sometimes actual between consenting partners who are already in an appropriate relationship.

Having looked at some of the common elements of practice and touched on the structure of Witchcraft, tomorrow we will continue our discovery with mention of some of the facts and fallacies associated with Witchcraft.

Marcus Katz is an MA student of Western Esotericism at Exeter University. He is a teacher of Witchcraft, Tarot and Ritual Magick in the Lake District at the Far Away Centre
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What it’s like to fall victim to the Mail Online’s aggregation machine

I recently travelled to Iraq at my own expense to write a piece about war graves. Within five hours of the story's publication by the Times, huge chunks of it appeared on Mail Online – under someone else's byline.

I recently returned from a trip to Iraq, and wrote an article for the Times on the desecration of Commonwealth war cemeteries in the southern cities of Amara and Basra. It appeared in Monday’s paper, and began:

“‘Their name liveth for evermore’, the engraving reads, but the words ring hollow. The stone on which they appear lies shattered in a foreign field that should forever be England, but patently is anything but.”

By 6am, less than five hours after the Times put it online, a remarkably similar story had appeared on Mail Online, the world’s biggest and most successful English-language website with 200 million unique visitors a month.

It began: “Despite being etched with the immortal line: ‘Their name liveth for evermore’, the truth could not be further from the sentiment for the memorials in the Commonwealth War Cemetery in Amara.”

The article ran under the byline of someone called Euan McLelland, who describes himself on his personal website as a “driven, proactive and reliable multi-media reporter”. Alas, he was not driven or proactive enough to visit Iraq himself. His story was lifted straight from mine – every fact, every quote, every observation, the only significant difference being the introduction of a few errors and some lyrical flights of fancy. McLelland’s journalistic research extended to discovering the name of a Victoria Cross winner buried in one of the cemeteries – then getting it wrong.

Within the trade, lifting quotes and other material without proper acknowledgement is called plagiarism. In the wider world it is called theft. As a freelance, I had financed my trip to Iraq (though I should eventually recoup my expenses of nearly £1,000). I had arranged a guide and transport. I had expended considerable time and energy on the travel and research, and had taken the risk of visiting a notoriously unstable country. Yet McLelland had seen fit not only to filch my work but put his name on it. In doing so, he also precluded the possibility of me selling the story to any other publication.

I’m being unfair, of course. McLelland is merely a lackey. His job is to repackage and regurgitate. He has no time to do what proper journalists do – investigate, find things out, speak to real people, check facts. As the astute media blog SubScribe pointed out, on the same day that he “exposed” the state of Iraq’s cemeteries McLelland also wrote stories about the junior doctors’ strike, British special forces fighting Isis in Iraq, a policeman’s killer enjoying supervised outings from prison, methods of teaching children to read, the development of odourless garlic, a book by Lee Rigby’s mother serialised in the rival Mirror, and Michael Gove’s warning of an immigration free-for-all if Britain brexits. That’s some workload.

Last year James King published a damning insider’s account of working at Mail Online for the website Gawker. “I saw basic journalism standards and ethics casually and routinely ignored. I saw other publications’ work lifted wholesale. I watched editors...publish information they knew to be inaccurate,” he wrote. “The Mail’s editorial model depends on little more than dishonesty, theft of copyrighted material, and sensationalism so absurd that it crosses into fabrication.”

Mail Online strenuously denied the charges, but there is plenty of evidence to support them. In 2014, for example, it was famously forced to apologise to George Clooney for publishing what the actor described as a bogus, baseless and “premeditated lie” about his future mother-in-law opposing his marriage to Amal Alamuddin.

That same year it had to pay a “sizeable amount” to a freelance journalist named Jonathan Krohn for stealing his exclusive account in the Sunday Telegraph of being besieged with the Yazidis on northern Iraq’s Mount Sinjar by Islamic State fighters. It had to compensate another freelance, Ali Kefford, for ripping off her exclusive interview for the Mirror with Sarah West, the first female commander of a Navy warship.

Incensed by the theft of my own story, I emailed Martin Clarke, publisher of Mail Online, attaching an invoice for several hundred pounds. I heard nothing, so emailed McLelland to ask if he intended to pay me for using my work. Again I heard nothing, so I posted both emails on Facebook and Twitter.

I was astonished by the support I received, especially from my fellow journalists, some of them household names, including several victims of Mail Online themselves. They clearly loathed the website and the way it tarnishes and debases their profession. “Keep pestering and shaming them till you get a response,” one urged me. Take legal action, others exhorted me. “Could a groundswell from working journalists develop into a concerted effort to stop the theft?” SubScribe asked hopefully.

Then, as pressure from social media grew, Mail Online capitulated. Scott Langham, its deputy managing editor, emailed to say it would pay my invoice – but “with no admission of liability”. He even asked if it could keep the offending article up online, only with my byline instead of McLelland’s. I declined that generous offer and demanded its removal.

When I announced my little victory on Facebook some journalistic colleagues expressed disappointment, not satisfaction. They had hoped this would be a test case, they said. They wanted Mail Online’s brand of “journalism” exposed for what it is. “I was spoiling for a long war of attrition,” one well-known television correspondent lamented. Instead, they complained, a website widely seen as the model for future online journalism had simply bought off yet another of its victims.