Urban Magic

Prophecies

Posted on Sunday, August 29th, 2010 in Glossary, Writing | No Comments

Prophecies are notoriously – some might argue dangerously – vague at the best of times.  In this age of litigation, there’s a certain something to be said for leaving room for interpretation, as the average angry client is less than likely to take traditional excuses of divine justice and sacred forces to heart when considering their law suit.  That said, the implication of precision is a frightening one – does this mean that the future is already pre-determined (a frightening thought) or that the prophet is, by making his/her predictions, determining the future for their unwitting client?  (An equally frightening thought.)

Whatever the truth behind the gift of prophecy, there’s little doubt that one of the greatest prophets of the age was Alfred Khan, although there is equally no doubt that his methods could sometimes be a little… irregular.  Take, for example, one prophecy given to a daimyo of the Neon Court concerning the future of the city and an approaching, unknown threat:

“So yeah dude there’ll be like this major shit you know what I’m saying man and it’ll be like the sun is totally not rising ‘cos that’ll be what’s fucking happening you know and shit that’s some strong stuff so yeah the sun not rising because the girl with the bleeding eyes is walking the earth but yo!  Man!  No sweat right ‘cos it has happened before you get where I’m coming from and it’ll happen again and you just gotta ask the dust.  Dust to dust dude.  Breathe deep if you wanna see that heaven burn again.  I gotta get me a paracetamol shit.”

Needless to say, at least one incumbent Midnight Mayor when faced with this particular prediction, was less than gushing in his gratitude.

Spirit Guides

Posted on Monday, August 9th, 2010 in Glossary | 3 Comments

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.

Shamans

Posted on Friday, July 16th, 2010 in Glossary | 2 Comments

The shaman has been a cultural figure in most societies for a very long time.  Not necessarily as someone called the shaman, mind – the job title’s gone through a lot of evolution.  But generally, throughout history, there has been someone who does the job.  A mushroom-eating wise one who communicates with the spirits; a tribal elder; a keeper of history and lore; a knower of stories – arguably even the local vicar had a certain shamanistic something about him for a while, and I challenge any theological historian to deny that the Holy Ghost hasn’t moved in some remarkable ways in his time.

And naturally, in the realms of urban magic, there are shamans too.

They tend to take on two forms.  In institutions such as the Tribe – a medley of outcasts and angry social pariahs – the shaman is a leader, a keeper of memories or, more often, feuds, a guide and a mentor, such as it is.  In less structured societies, the shaman can fulfill a more flexible role.  They are the ones who see the truth of things – not a simple black and white truth of ‘my dog has five legs and this is a lie’ – but rather the truth of things that are just beneath the surface.  They are the ones who see the hands that built the streets, who see the shadows that lie just below the shadow that you cast as you walk, who know which lampposts hide the dryads and which alleys you should and should not walk down once the lights have gone out.  They walk a fine line between the world that is, and the world that is just below the surface, and as a result can make for excellent counselors, albeit not very good tour guides.

Travelcard Crazy

Posted on Tuesday, July 6th, 2010 in Glossary, London | 2 Comments

I walk everywhere.  But once in a very blue moon I find myself the proud owner of a day travelcard, zones 1-4, and I go just a little bit travelcard crazy…

In the world of urban magic, this is a genuine medical problem.  Magic long since passed the point where a griffon’s feather was a source of power – true power lies in the Zones 1-6 London Travelcard, good for free transport on every bus, tube, tram, light railway and overground service within Greater London, and a hefty discount on the river bus too.  I mean, if this isn’t urban power in ticket form then frankly, nothing is.  And like all things with surplus power attached, it’s perfectly possible to go mad with a travelcard; thus, a traveller may find himself standing at Leicester Square wondering how to get to Piccadilly Circus and sure, the two are visible one to the other, but oh no!  When in possession of a travelcard something as simple and easy as walking fifty yards is unforgivable!   Trains must be caught, buses must be used – as many as possible, ideally – and even if they take you miles out of your way you’ve still gotta use them, because that is the magic of a travelcard.

When I was a kid I went to school in Hammersmith.  Grew up on the other side of town, mind you – right on the other side of town in Hackney.  (‘Is that anywhere near Kensington High Street?’ asked one perfectly affable 12 year old in a geography lesson once, when we were discussing our home boroughs.  The answer, dear reader, would be a resounding no.)  I had a travelcard, and prided myself on never quite taking the same route into and from school every day.  I circled round my final destination like a hungry vulture in a butcher’s maze, sometimes striking from the north via Piccadilly Line and a bus, sometimes from the south via Northern Line and a different combination of buses, for Hackney is not renowned for its tube connections.  I took the Hammersmith and City Line for a while, until I realised that the stations between Goldhawk Road and Royal Oak were full of bigger, scarier people than me in my baby-pink school uniform.  (It wasn’t a uniform big on dignity.)  Then I switched to the Piccadilly; then realised that the Piccadilly didn’t have anything on the Victoria Line, then discovered that actually, a Victoria-Northern Line combo was a deadly weapon.  Violin lessons in the Barbican were an especial treat, as I had an option on at least five perfectly justifiable tube stops I could get off at each of which would lead, in roughly even times, through entirely labyrinthine passages, to the same destination from a completely different direction.  Travelcard craziness was how I got to know most of central London, picking my way between tube stops with the reckless disregard of someone who knows that if I do get horribly lost, there’ll be a bus to somewhere where there’ll be a tube to somewhere else where I’ll probably be able to pick up a route I vaguely know in a reasonable direction.

Now that I no longer need to commute across half a city to get to school, I have travelcards less frequently, and thus go a little bit more bonkers when I use them.  This weekend, for example, I needed to get from my home to the Old Kent Road for a job interview, and then to a wedding in Putney, and then back home. I can proudly report that I managed to achieve this, with my travelcard, through use of four tube lines, three buses, two mainline trains and if only the service had been running on a weekend, I damn well would have taken the riverbus too.  Sensible, level-headed geographical planning goes out of the window.  I see a bus heading vaguely west, and I am heading vaguely west, and I will jump on it with a cry of ‘ah hell, it’ll probably work out for the best!’   So all things considered, my advice to you would be… beware travelcard madness!  And perhaps every now and then, give into it too.

Blackout

Posted on Friday, July 2nd, 2010 in Glossary | 5 Comments

There’s a thing at the end of the alley.

It’s watching you.

Grafitti, Soho – source unknown.

Our Lady of 4 a.m..

Posted on Thursday, June 10th, 2010 in Glossary | 3 Comments

According to the shamans of London, the city is full of spirits.  The dryads who live in the street lights, the Seven Sisters, Fat Rat and Blackout, being some classic examples.  One of the most hallowed of these is a creature known sometimes as Greydawn, and more commonly as Our Lady of 4 a.m..  She is the guardian spirit who watches over the midnight workers of the city of London – the cleaners, the security guards, the late-night receptionists who sit up between the hours of 11 a.m. and 6.30 a.m. playing solitaire on computers in empty foyers of sleeping office blocks.  She is almost never seen, unless a gust of wind catches the newspapers blowing through the streets and for a moment, their shape defines a physical form, but the lonely travellers heading home as dawn breaks through the empty streets of the city swear that she is with them, watching over them when nothing else moves.  She is said to be a gate-keeper, separating out the nightmares of a lonely night from the calm moment at 4 a.m. when the entire city is silent and at peace. 

Of course, the only problem being, that if you need someone to keep a gate, there’s usually something nasty waiting on the other side.

Djinn

Posted on Sunday, April 25th, 2010 in Glossary | 2 Comments

Throughout history, there have been legends of djinn.  Sometimes they’re desert wanderers, cruel tricksters, creatures of fire and vengeance; other times, they’re friendly helpful, almost fairy-like creatures that show up at dodgy narrative moments and fulfil your every desire or, at the very least, offer to fulfil your very desire even if it later turns out that you didn’t know what was good for you.  (This being the perpetual problem with trying to get what you want through mystical means – there’s no one ever really checking the small print, and no helpful guidebook on the art of keeping wishes sensible and safe.)

In this modern time, the djinn naturally have adapted to the advent of urban magic, and the terminology has become rather vaguer as a consequence.  Certainly, there remain the desert spirits of old, rolling across the sands on wings of flame, but their urban cousins are a far more varied breed.  The djinn of the London underground, for example, exist as living winds that dance forever through the tunnels in the wake of the trains.  Only rarely are they spotted, as when a gust of wind catches a pile of discarded newspaper left on the platform and for a moment, as the pages are turned in the wind, there is a face, a shape that might almost be living, defined in old paper and air.  Their surface cousins can often be seen in the same way, in the plastic bags that get caught in the vents of air conditioning units and which turn, just very rarely, to take on the shape of a living thing.  Sometimes they are tricksters – your average djinn gets a ridiculously high level of pleasure from turning the umbrellas of commuters inside out, or from splitting open a briefcase and catching the papers within in a gale of wind.  Sometimes they are downright malign, pushing against the feet of travelers who are standing too close to the edge of the platform.  Occasionally, sometimes, they are protecting spirits, defenders in the night who tumble through the tight streets of the city on wings of airborn rubbish, paper and steam, watching over the early-morning travelers.

Familiars

Posted on Wednesday, April 14th, 2010 in Glossary | 3 Comments

Throughout the history of magic, witches and wizards have had a noble tradition of keeping animal familiars as spiritual companions, pets and occasional useful substitutes for the mailman in times of trouble, closely bound and by their sides.  This tradition continues to this day, although the rising of urban magic has naturally caused some changes to fashion.  Owls, for example, are now rather tricky familiars to keep, although curiously enough the domestication of the rabbit as a fluffy pet means that some wizards still find it useful to keep them as mystical familiars, albeit rather fatter, cuter familiars than perhaps their ancestors were.  Wolves are out, foxes are in – indeed, the urban fox is considered one of the more useful and fashionable familiars for any wizard to keep, valuable for their powerful senses, cunning, survival skills and unrivaled nocturnal mastery of the city streets.  Pigeons are a common airborn familiar, and rats are also a popular choice, able to access pretty much anywhere and do anything.  Mice are not very fashionable, although recent trends in the domestic cat population suggest that soon the cats of the city will be too fat and lazy to pose any real threat to this particular breed of familiar.

There are also tales of more exotic familiars that urban wizards have been known to acquire.  One witch was said to adopt a motorbike as her pet familiar, which would somehow manage to appear wherever she went regardless of whether she’d driven it there, as loyal as a pet puppy.  Needless to say, this resulted in a lot of parking fines, and was for that reason abandoned as being a rather foolish choice of animated pet.  A member of the Beggar King’s court managed to bond with his own fleas, turning them into a rather irritating weapon of choice that could at any given moment hop onto the backs of his enemies and annoy them to death; and it said that in Miami one rather reckless sorcerer adopted a baby crocodile as his familiar, only to discover that the tinned meat bill once his familiar reached adulthood was prohibitive.   Thus, while it can be said that having an animal familiar magically bound to you can be a useful tool for any self-respecting wizard, the advise always stands – call your local borough council first, and consider your budget before making any major mystical choices on the subject.

Yellow Fluorescent Jackets

Posted on Saturday, April 10th, 2010 in Glossary | 4 Comments

In nearly all cities, there is no symbol so universally recognized as the yellow fluorescent jacket.  From Tokyo to Venice, everywhere you go, it is a sign that immediately cries out ‘I am an important person carrying on important, if not vital urban work and if you interfear with this work you and the civic authorities will probably both come to reject it.’  No bouncer will deny access to those who wear this sign of authority; no building site will refuse admission, no worker question its presence, no driver fail to spot, and no casual citizen fail to ignore, having spotted it.  Women tend to avoid men wearing it, as the adornment of the yellow fluorescent jacket on the back of nearly any man will immediately transform this creature from a perfectly respectable member of the human race to a sexual monkey who, despite their general sensitivity and potential poetic soul, will still, once the jacket is one, feel the need to shout ‘lovely pair of tits darling!’ at any female who happens to cross their path.

Needless to say, some members of the urban magic community have come to realise the power of the yellow fluorescent jacket as a tool of magic.  It is the next best thing to an invisibility cloak, since while people will very much see anyone wearing it, they will often fail to perceive anyone wearing it, and thus it serves just as well when times are hard.  A few more cynical members of the magical community go one step further, arguing that this power has been corrupted for evil purposes, and there in fact exists a sinister society of men in yellow fluorescent jackets, who can access anywhere and see everything, to achieve an agenda unknown to those not garbed in their sacred uniform.  The ‘lovely pair of tits’ business is therefore, it is argued, not so much a manifestation of blokes being blokish, but in fact a secret code phrase used to identify members of this secret society to each other.

And let’s face it…

… there may be something to this.

Seah’s Syndrome

Posted on Tuesday, April 6th, 2010 in Glossary | 4 Comments

Seah’s syndrome is a rare medical condition affecting vampires.  Essentially, it causes a mutation of the intestinal lining whereby the vampire’s digestive system, which can usually break down and process all blood types that may be imbibed, is altered to reject all but a specific antegen blood group.  While most vampires can muddle by with standard O-type blood, and just be careful to avoid drinking any blood type which carries the rejected antegens, in extreme cases of Seah’s Syndrome the unfortunate vampiric victim can only process one specific blood group and will have a violent, often fatal reaction to the drinking of any blood which does not meet very high medical standards.

This, combined with a rising concern about blood quality and personal hygiene in general, following the discovery that vampirism did not, in fact, render immunity to certain blood-borne diseases, has naturally inhibited the lifestyle of many otherwise merrily predatory vampires, as a victim of Seah’s Syndrome, while he or she may enjoy stalking their prey, will often have to conclude their hunt with a series of personal and probing medical questions before risking even a casual drink.