This is not a deck review.
This is more of an offshoot of my previous post on The Love and Light Disease.
If you follow me on Instagram, you may have a suspicion that I’m not a fan of the super popular Wild Unknown Tarot. I’m not just a bully. I’ve got reasons.
The fad of “spirituality” has been ramping up for a while. It’s gained boosts from shit like yoga’s explosion in popularity, fantasy witchcraft’s prominence in media, and the sudden realization of what “religion” does do civilization.
“Spirituality’s” latest kick in the ass upwards into popularity has been the Wild Unknown Tarot deck. Wide-eyed newcomers to the world of spirituality gravitate toward it because some of the artwork is fucking gorgeous and, let’s face it, there’s nothing dark or scary about this deck. For those just leaving religions that damn the tarot, they’re nervous to even pick a deck up. But this one is happy and smiling. It’s simple and nonthreatening. And according to the guidebook, it never has bad news for you.
Enter THE LOVE AND LIGHT DISEASE.
These people fail to realize that there are those of us out here who have had tarot decks spread out on the coffee table before the Wild Unknown Tarot had even been dreamt up by its creator.
I own this deck. It was my fourth tarot deck and I got it back when the only place to buy it was on Etsy. The Moon card was pretty badass, but other than that, it felt hollow. Personally, I couldn’t connect with it. I got excited when there was talk of a guidebook being made, but once it arrived, red flags started popping up.
Everything was rainbows and butterflies. Literally. Even the Three of Swords wasn’t so bad, according to this book. No reverse meanings were even mentioned. Now I don’t read reversals anyway, but it struck me because reversed meanings of cards are usually negative.
The guidebook was exactly reinforcing the shallow bullshit of the people who were swooning over it. This was when I decided that my energy would be better spent connecting with a different deck.
This was a turning point for tarot. It went from something quiet and meaningful to a tangled mess of popularity.
But my final straw was this Second Edition horse shit. What the actual fuck is this? It’s finally been outted as what I suspected it was all along: a greedy ass money making scheme.
Dumb it down so it can be easily swallowed by the masses. I want money from fucking everyone. Twice. Three times, if I can get it.
What started as a neat deck has become a massive validation for fluff and continues to wring money out of people worldwide.
So do I hate the deck? I would go with dislike, but that’s just my personal preference as far as physical decks go. But what I do hate is what it stands for.