Modern Shamanism

“A warrior acts as if he knows what he is doing, when in effect he knows nothing...” - Carlos Castaneda

Shaman, not to be confused with She-man (that is a whole other topic), is a word not commonly used nowadays. Mysticality has gone by the wayside due, directly, to a lack of commercial presence. But it's more prevalent you might think - how else could you explain the rise of the celebutante. We don't openly discuss Walmart's voodoo practice of raising the dead and training them to be greeters, and only hint at, in hushed tones, Chili's late night ritual of slaughtering stray dogs and lightly dusting the wait staff's aprons with cocaine. But that doesn't mean it doesn't happen.

I was once given some sage advice from a well practiced and battle-worn shaman in Hartford who was working at a 7-11. I was hungry and requested the last Big Bite hot dog. He said "You don't want THAT one. That one's for the after-party boys." By the way his mischievous eyes beamed, I knew that he had crafted it for the late-night, last-call crowd. But behind the smile there was hidden wince of pain - on some lonely night long ago he had been rolled by a few popped collar types, and had since been serving his revenge. On further inspection of the Big Bite, it was nothing more than a dried and wrinkled gorilla dong - clearly an ingredient of witchcraft. I would hate to see what the bun looked like.