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transitfever · 2 days ago

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Cyberwitchery 101: How to Build a Temple out of Spotify and Regret

How do Spotify shrines work? What’s the principle behind Pinterest altars? Can you stretch your magical practice over a goddamn video game? (Short answer: yes.)

It doesn’t matter what you believe in — Asgard, Orun, rebuilding Shaolin, or a first-class return ticket to Eden. The masses aren't going to sign up for your utopian ideas anyway. Witches riot. That’s what they do. 🔥

The Birth of a Cybercult

Grab a bit of trickery, sprinkle in some time, and you can spawn a cult of Daozi (the Chinese god of crazy harmony) based on Twin Peaks memes. Or you can build an Ishtar shrine... on OnlyFans. (Your mileage may vary.)

There’s this thing — a symbolic field. You snag something from it — a fap-worthy or terrifying or just emotionally-charged image. It could be a song, a poster, a damn book. It strikes you. It owns you. You stuff it into your personal pantheon. Boom — you’re a fan of Avril Lavigne now. (nevemind.)

From Worship to Priesthood

Eventually, it’s not enough. The "deity" calls you to priesthood. (No, actually, it’s your own inflated mental fragment pulling you into that mess.)

Take it from someone who’s initiated in Ifá: Without inner resources, no spirit calls you anywhere.

You build a shrine: your rack of albums, your Pokémon Genji poster wall, or that classic Catholic flex — Sacred Heart of Jesus watching you stay a virgin till marriage.

You start preaching: "New Testament of Clíodhna", "Apocalypse of Nergal", "Psalms of Avril"... whatever trips your trigger. If you can admit it’s all your own need for meaning — congratulations, you have critical thinking skills.

Going Viral (and Suicidal)

And then... You go viral. Likes. Reposts. Outrage: “Where’s Jesus’ Heart, why are there dildos?” The hurricane begins. Your inner narcissist is delighted. Your wounded radical is healing. The Divine Blessing™ descends.

You might even get serious about your cult:

Like Wiccans grinding through the Wheel of the Year before calling themselves witches.

Folk witches posting cryptic graveyard shots with a bottle of cognac and bleach-blonde hair.

Occultists writing grimoires and masturbating intellectually over "traditional craft." (All equally valid coping mechanisms.)

Eventually, entropy wins. You get enough fans and haters. You implode under the weight of your own ego. You feel like dying for your "god."

(But hey, at least Pinterest makes it easy to hide your shame.)

How to Dismantle Your Cybercult

Pinterest board? Set it to private.

Spotify playlist? Archive it.

Tumblr blog? Nuke it from orbit.

Sims 4 Loki family? Delete them from your library, break your pact with the northen trickster.

Physical altars? Way harder. You have to atomize every artifact, spread them like meaningless trinkets across your home.

Pro-tip: Always have a quick exit strategy. It's all performance art in the end, darling. 🎭

Final Blessing

Cyberwitchcraft in a post-consumerist world is a treasure. It saves you (and your friends) from doing dumb stuff in public. It turns your random fandoms into sacred rites. It sanctifies your trash with the golden spit of the plebs.

Drink your Tie Guan Yin, darling. The goddess who hears the world's screams is busy tonight — somewhere, another rad-trad is having a meltdown. 🌚

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