There’s a new Facebook group called Chaos Witches, and even though it’s in its infancy, it’s already turning into a really cool corner of the Internet — polite but lively discussions on what it actually means to practice Chaos-centered witchcraft, along with a soupçon of relevant memes to keep everyone on their toes.
In a recent thread, someone asked about the difference between a Chaos Magician and a Chaos Witch. And as we were sharing our theories and definitions, I was like, “Has anyone claimed Chaos Warlock yet?” No one had, so I was like, “Dibs!”
And then my friend Erin decided that she wanted to be a Chaos Wizard, and the rest of us were all, “Fuck yeah, Chaos Wizard.” So that’s definitely sticking.
It was a good talk overall, although it did get me thinking about the word “warlock,” and how rarely it’s used these days. I mean, Storm Faerywolf has, for at least as long as I’ve known him, identified as a warlock, but other than that, I’m not aware of anyone who actively describes themself as such.
So now I totally want to.
The word “warlock” comes to us from the Old English wærloga, which translates as “deceiver” or “one who breaks oaths.” In Scotland, it was applied to male practitioners of witchcraft — those who were believed to have made pacts with the Devil, thus breaking their baptismal commitments to the Christian God. And when I was first coming up in the greater witchcraft community, a warlock was considered a Very Bad Thing.
From a traditional Wiccan standpoint, I totally get that. We take oaths at initiation, so even though the word doesn’t really come up in our paradigm, to dabble in witchcraft as a self-professed oathbreaker would be an excellent way to alienate oneself. And even within the “whatever you want it to be” realms of non-initiatory Wicca and eclectic witchcraft, people steer clear of “warlock” when attempting to describe their practices and beliefs. At some point, it just got deemed taboo.
Culturally, however, the warlock parallels and occasionally overlaps the archetype of the Clown Witch. Think Paul Lynde as Uncle Arthur and Bernard Fox as Dr. Bombay in Bewitched, or Julian Sands in the Warlock movie franchise: Warlocks are presented as campy and over the top, but they’re also dashing, debonair, and confident in who they are.
In other words, they’re queer as hell, y’all.
So outside of fiction, why would someone want to call themself a warlock instead of a witch? After all, “witch” is a gender-neutral term — why not just go with “male witch” or “gay witch” or “queer witch” or whatever? And that’s a valid question, but for me, a warlock plays a slightly different role than a witch does.
Both exist on the outskirts of societal structures, and both practice magic to facilitate change in themselves and the world around them, but I feel like a warlock is more likely to be following an agenda set out for them by a higher power. This is where the idea of pacts comes into play — like, I literally signed a contract at the behest of Eris, which makes the impetus behind that project more oriented towards something a warlock would handle. But the book I just co-wrote as part of a series was a collaboration of authors without supernatural directive, and was therefore more of a witch endeavor.
I don’t really know if that makes sense, but that’s also the best part about the whole thing: Being a warlock doesn’t have to make sense to anyone but the warlock.
And the kicker to all of this is that as chaos magic practitioners, we are not limited in how we describe what we do. If defining your own chaos practice as sorcery or wortcunning feels accurate and increases your confidence in your abilities, then you should absolutely go for it. Deconditioning (a process in which every chaote should be actively engaged) affects our beliefs about ourselves as much as our perceptions of consensus reality, and it can result in reinvention as often as revelation. Either outcome is worth embracing.
The identity of Horkos the Warlock seems to fits just as well as Thumper the Witch (and much better than Screaming Jackalope the New Warrior ever did), so I’ll continue to break it in and see where it takes me. I may not keep it forever, and it may fade away once my current obligations to Eris are complete, but I do have to admit that, at least in the moment, it suits me.
And because I have so many names to choose from, maybe one of these days I’ll come bounding onto the scene as MAAAAAHJORIE SPLITFOOT, SOOTHSAYER OF CHAOS or something. At which point Erin and the rest of the Chaos Witches will be like, “Yeah, we knew him back when he was a warlock. He’s just like this sometimes.”
Which totally reminds me of a line from To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar: “Your approval is not needed, but I will take your acceptance.” I am blessed to have found both in spades.
And I also feel like the steps to becoming a drag queen as laid out in this movie could be filtered through the Witches Pyramid and repurposed as the steps to becoming a warlock:
- Let good thoughts be your sword and shield. (Know.)
- Ignore adversity. (Will.)
- Abide by the rules of love. (Dare.)
- Larger than life is just the right size. (Keep Silent and carry a big stang.)
These are pretty good guidelines for anyone, to be honest. Just throw in a contractual agreement with the deity of your choice, and a fabulous new warlock will be crowned.
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