23012: Burnham: (news/review) Toronto Star: Voodoo Handbooks (fwd)

[Bob Corbett <corbetre@webster.edu>]

From: thor burnham <thorald_mb@hotmail.com>

The Toronto Star: Jan. 1, 2005.

"Sticking it to ones you hate"

STEPHANIE EARLS
GUEST COLUMN

I am not a vindictive person. Most of the time.

I tend to believe in universal balance: cosmic payback and reward, karma,
our amazing ability to forget how angry/bitter/hurt we really were at
such-and-such a time.

But on those occasions when you've been greatly wronged, wouldn't it be nice
to have something satisfying and empowering — oh, say, voodoo — to turn to?

Three new books are wagering you'll bite. Yes, folks! For less than $20 (all
figures U.S.) and guided by goofy illustrations, you, too, can be privy to
the mystical secrets of an ancient religion that's been systematically
perverted and sensationalized by Western society!

Within the space of a month, all three voodoo books arrived in our newsroom
and found their way on to my desk. Obviously, I was a pawn in some greater
plan. I had no choice.

I focused on one book in particular, The Little Voodoo Kit: Revenge Therapy
for the Over-Stressed, (St. Martin's Press, $12.95) by Jean-Paul Poupette.
This volume looked more efficient and less labour-intensive than Portable
Voodoo (Running Press, $12.95) and Doktor Snake's Voodoo Spellbook (St.
Martin's Griffin, $19.95).

All three come with dolls, but the one in The Little Voodoo Kit, complete
with stick pins, was the best. With its dispassionate look and listless
structure, it already half-resembled the person I needed to vent a little
rage on.

Right out of the gate, though, a disclaimer reminds readers that toying with
a voodoo doll (which "is not a child's toy," by the way) "is not about
causing harm to other people" nor is it "designed to release anger and
stress in the user."

Which is sort of like the clause on Q-tip boxes that tells you not to stick
the swab inside your ear. Warnings never want us to have any fun. But, okay.
I get this is a stress release thing, although I wouldn't object if there
turned out to be other, say, residual effects.

The book gives a few introductory sentences about "doll therapy," how using
dolls to wrangle stress and calm nerves has a long, researched history, blah
blah blah...and on to the sticking, or "techniques of pinning," which begins
on Page 10 (after you've massaged your doll to get mutual mojo working).

I bonded, I read, I pinned, slowly, at designated angles, turning as
specified. (The process of stabbing the effigy of one's enemy is much more
complicated than I'd ever imagined). Truth was, I did feel a little better.
A tad pathetic, but better.

The book goes on, snarkily, to suggest other techniques and hoped-for
outcomes, including stuffing the doll with catnip and feeding it to your cat
to how to recite curses while bathing with your doll (beware: rusted pins
can adversely affect your magic).

You know. Voodoo basics.

As for residual effects, well, one can only hope.

Albany Times Union