Traditionally, all self-respecting shamans have a spirit guide to aid them in the exploration of mysteries and whatnot. However, this being the era of urban magic, the spirit guide, like the shaman has evolved. No longer does the guide manifest in the form of an animal, a voice, a whisper in the mist, a glowing light in the darkness or so on. The guide itself is molded from the psyche of the shaman that summons it, and in this era of 24-hour broadcasting and tabloid journalism, you are as likely to find a shaman being guided by the voice of Terry Wogan or the spirit of Scooby Doo as you are to catch any beatific spirit leading the march through the nether reaches of imagination.
Needless to say, most shamans keep this a secret, as it does no good to their street cred at all to admit that their consciousness is shaped so strongly by daytime TV.
3 comments
Catherine Hill says:
August 9, 2010 at 9:59 pm (UTC 1 )
Have you seen the second series of Being Human?
In one episode a guy starts getting messages from the beyond via television. The first manifestation of this was Terry Wogan encouraging him to pull, it was both amusing and sinister.
Fay says:
August 9, 2010 at 11:22 pm (UTC 1 )
Oh BLESS you! Much as I’ve enjoyed reading your posts about Edinburgh and Stratford and Covent Garden and lighting-related matters, I confess that this particular entry charmed me to death; due, in no small part, to the fact that I spent the morning finishing ‘The Midnight Mayor’ and occasionally exclaiming out loud in delight at particular turns of phrase, and am still very much in that headspace. (I was, I hasten to add, reading in the privacy of my home; announcing “Fuck yes!” to the pages of a book and greedily reading sentences out loud just for the pleasure of the syllables in the air is not generally smiled upon in my preferred restaurants, or on the Sky Train.)
Anyway, sorry – rather creepy of me to wander over and fangirl you, but I just wanted to say: “Bloody good job”, in a sheepish and British fashion, and then cough and change the subject and talk about the weather. That kind of thing. And should you happen to find yourself in Bangkok in the next twelve months (which is, I imagine, as likely as a not-very-likely thing, but one never knows), I should be delighted to buy you a tasty beverage, and look embarrassedly into my noodles, and then talk about London (because, my God, you make me homesick for London! Not that I was ever a proper Londoner, only lived there for a handful of years, but still, yay London) and about books and TV and the winding streets of Bangkok, deafening frogsong in the rain and cockroaches as big as your thumb, and fresh pineapple warm in the sun, chopped up in front of you and dipped in salt and sugar and chili, and the gilded birdhouse edifices outside every building where the spirits dwell, feasting on bright red Fanta and ogling plastic dancing girls and inhaling incense, and the bright silks wrapped around the fat bellies of spirit trees, and tuktuks spluttering down neon-spangled streets, dodging and weaving between Crayola-coloured taxis, and heels breaking on paving stones as wobbly and uneven as a mouthful of broken teeth, and the sharp-sweet-spicy-salty tang of magic in my borrowed city.
Or, you know, about the latest season of ‘Doctor Who’. Whatever. I feel that I owe you more than the pounds I paid to Waterstones for shaping my waking mind these past few days with your stories, so should you find yourself in my manor (and in the still less likely event that you’re not deeply suspicious of me being a closet mad axeman), then I’d love to buy you delicious things. It really seems like the least I can do.
AdrianH says:
August 10, 2010 at 6:58 pm (UTC 1 )
The thought of one of the Loose Women turning up as a Spirit Guide I find more than a little amusing…