There was a big dust-up in the leather community last year over the appropriateness of wearing police uniforms in public, which resulted in some really honest, thoughtful dialog about the history of leather culture and the importance of inclusive safe space within marginalized communities a giant flame ball of indignant drama words and egocentrism.
I made a firm point of staying out of it, although I did post some hilarious entirely unhelpful comments, which I blissfully assumed no one would actually read.
Then, a few days ago, someone was like, “Hey, remember that time Thumper unnecessarily ridiculed uniform fetishists?” And someone else was like, “Did he attend the big Leather Pride event last weekend? Because if so, he’s a literal Nazi like the rest of you.”
And I was like, “Oh. I… guess people read them after all.”
I wanted to write another post about the resurgence of the conflict, but I didn’t know if I could do so without getting myself worked up, and I was worried I’d end up saying something that would make things worse. But I also wasn’t comfortable not saying anything about it.
I felt kind of stuck. So…
Everyone: “You pulled out your Liminal Spirits cards.”
HEY. DON’T YUCK MY YUM. THEY ARE MY GODS RIGHT NOW. Anyway, I pulled out my Liminal Spirits cards and did a quick reading.
According to the cards, there is a situation I can’t control involving the people I’m connected to. Recent news triggered memories of the past, but the best course of action is to stay quiet and move forward with dignity.
You know, I can’t help but note how often the Ocean card appears to say, “You can’t control this,” whenever I ask how to manage a situation. I clearly need to work on my shuffling.
I’ll do some hand exercises or something. In the meantime, and speaking of hands, here’s a telephone conversation between myself and my boyfriend.
Me: “So you know how I’m always talking about Discordian Witchcraft? I did some googling, and it turns out that no one’s written about it yet, so I’m going to write books about it, and then I’m going to go to conferences and be on panels and dress all in black.”
Ben: “With gray and purple accents?”
Me: “Well, of course. Except I need a Five Fingered Hand of Eris pendant to complete the look, but I couldn’t find a sterling silver one anywhere, so I guess it doesn’t exist, which sucks, even though I did find a cool magnet.”
Ben: “Okay, I need you to rewind and think about that last sentence.”
Me: “Huh?”
Ben: “‘I need this pendant that doesn’t exist, but I found a magnet.’ That was just… peak Thumper.”
Me: “…”
Ben: “Like, if I was writing you as a character, that is word for word something I’d have you say.”
Me: “I mean, can anyone ever really have too many magnets?”
Ben: “Listen, I’ve got a box in the garage next to the kaftans packed to the brim with magnets, and… oh, shit, hang on a second. The timer just went off. I’ve gotta finish activating the THC in this weed butter so that I can get the next batch of jazz cookies in the oven.”
Me: “Wow.”
Ben: “Wow?”
Me: “All of that was just… peak Ben.”
Ben: “… Touché.”
All peaking aside, the convo did get me ruminating on The Five Fingered Hand of Eris, which, from an aesthetic standpoint, has always been one of my favorite occult symbols.
The Hand first appeared on page 00021 of the Principia, accompanied by the following text.
The official symbol of POEE [Paratheo-Anametamystikhood Of Eris Esoteric] is here illustrated. It may be this, or any similar device to represent TWO OPPOSING ARROWS CONVERGING INTO A COMMON POINT. It may be vertical, horizontal, or else such, and it may be elaborated or simplified as desired.
NOTE: In the lore of western magic, the [crescent moon] is taken to symbolize horns, especially the horns of Satan or of diabolical beasties. The Five Fingered Hand of Eris, however, is not intended to be taken as satanic, for the “horns” are supported by another set, of inverted “horns”. Or maybe it is walrus tusks. I don’t know what it is, to tell the truth.
The Principia doesn’t ascribe any further meaning to the Hand, although for some Discordians, it’s come to represent the forces of Creation and Destruction (or Love and Strife) crashing into each other. There was a brief push to get it recognized as the official astronomical symbol of the dwarf planet Eris, but other than that, it just kind of means “Discordian.” As a sigil, though, I feel like it might also have a magical use or two.
Are you familiar with the Hand of Glory? Back in the olden days, it was a candle made out of the severed left hand and the rendered fat of a hanged convict. When lit, the Hand of Glory was believed to paralyze anyone in its vicinity, and it could also open any locked door. (You can see a Hand of Glory in action in the original Wicker Man.)
My theory is that if a Hand of Glory caused bodies at rest to remain motionless, the Five Fingered Hand of Eris could be used to set things in motion.
So if I wanted to engineer a series of events that would culminate in a specific goal, I would grab a seven-day candle of the appropriate color, draw a Hand of Eris vertically down the front of it, dress it with five finger grass (to activate the handiness, and also because the name is on-the-nose) along with any other herbs and oils relevant to the work, and fire the sucker up.
Oh, and I would also add some gold glitter to the candle as well. And if I were trying to set off a chain reaction in the leather community, I would light the now sparkling candle, not wash my hands, head up to the bar, and run around smearing glitter on everything.
Or just, y’know, blog about it. Then wait a year.
In other news, to be filed under Things Awesome, I did finally find a Hand of Eris pendant, and it looks so damn good on me, that my beard turned silver to match it.