The Love and Light Disease

Love and light!


Oh yeah?

Fuck you, too, lady.

The Love and Light Disease. This shit is an epidemic.

(I won’t get into my personal opinion on modern mysticism and all of this shit right now, although we’re in dangerously close proximity. That will be another post for another time, when I’m really in the mood to make people hate me.)

We’ve all met someone who’s infected, whether it be online or in person. They think everything is either black or white and, for your information, they choose the white side only. Their lives are all about pastel colored dream catchers, heart chakras, and they think Karma is when you park in a handicapped spot and someone keys your car. There’s a good chance that they own one tarot deck, which is the Wild Unknown, and the only thing they’ve ever read about the tarot is the Wild Unknown guidebook. They went camping once and the trees were pretty and they use their yoga studio membership to do hot yoga twice a week.

Then, some of these people take the next step and discover that the Wiccan Rede exists. This is probably the point where they rename themselves Willow Butterfly Moondrops and hop online to tell other people “how to Wicca.”

The Threefold Law becomes their little club that they bash people over the head with. They’ve learned to love themselves, including all of their super shitty traits because they love themselves and there’s no need to ever strive to become better because THEY ARE PURE WHITE LIGHT AND LOVE, DAMN IT.

Healers are one thing, this bullshit is another. Their refusal to acknowledge the full, complex gray scale of life turns their “spirituality” into watered down horseshit.

But I don’t give a shit what they want to think, just get out of my fucking face with that shit.

I might be a cynical asshole, but for the love of that tie-dyed Ganesha wall hanging at the head of your bed, get a fucking grip.






5 thoughts on “The Love and Light Disease

  1. Oh man. I recently saw a blog comment claiming creative people who don’t quit our day jobs are holding ourselves back by not properly “creating our own reality.” And I really wanted to reply that this is exactly why I keep working, so I can create a reality in which I have fucking groceries. But, alas, not my blog.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I’m grinding my teeth just reading that. Sure, bitch, to create your own reality. I’ll watch out the window of my house. With heat. And food. And water. And clean clothes.


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