fragments

The Thin Veil Brigade or Hexing our way through this timeline

Dani Burlison, carla joy bergman

30 Oct 2025 — 7 min read

Hello marvelous murder,

This is the point of year in the northern hemisphere when portals open and we convene with the ghosts across time! In some places it’s called, All Hallows Eve or Halloween or Samhain or Dia de los Muertos – a time to remember and to connect with our dead ancestors (spirit, blood, or revolutionary) so we can collaborate on some magic or mysticism to topple empire once and for all.

We have a few tricks and treats to share, and of course, as always, some shiny things as well over the coming weeks. We know it's been a bit slow over here, and it’s for lots of the usual reasons, but also we’ve been doing more in person workshops and talks and other nefarious crow things, like honing our hexing skills and spellwork, and deepening webs of mutual aid — especially around sharing basic needs, like food.

We’ve both been thinking of one of our favorite witches, Hekate, during these precarious times. She is the torch bearer, queen of the witches, goddess of the crossroads. Because where are we currently standing but at the crossroads? Daily, it feels to us like we have one foot stepping into a liberatory future, and another stuck in the rubble of crumbling empire. We don’t know about all of you reading this, but a torch to light the way, to illuminate this chaotic and painful threshold, would be very much welcomed and appreciated right now.

I (Dani) have also been thinking a lot about Aradia, the strega/deity who is said to be the daughter of Lucifer and the Roman Goddess Diana. Aradia was sent to earth to help the oppressed class fight back against the ruling class and the tyranny of the Catholic Church. She empowered the people through teaching them witchcraft. She gave them the tools and confidence to rebel, and to break free from the weight of poverty and violence. Mutual Aid at its absolute witchy-est.

There are some holes and criticisms in the telling of the legend of Aradia, as written by George Leland in 1899, but I like to envision everyone who is resisting fascism today calling on her in our quest for liberation. How can we, as a collective, learn and teach and support each other more? Who can we call on for inspiration and protection? Whether you believe in my silly hocus pocus or not, I say Aradia can be a guide.

And last but not least, I am thinking of La Llorona, the wailing and weeping woman who haunts the rivers of the borderlands, where the so-called U.S. and Mexico border wall stands like a festering wound through the deserts of the Southwest. One version of her story is that she fell in love with a wealthy man (colonizer), had his children and then he abandoned her. As an act of rage and revenge, she drowns their children in a river. She spends eternity mourning them along the river banks, distraught and wailing with remorse. Legends say that anyone who hears her wailing is said to be cursed with death or with misfortune at every turn. I like to think of U.S. Border Patrol, DHS or ICE agents catching wind of her cries and suffering a well-deserved fate. Maybe the skinwalkers can jump in to help enact some justice, too.

And of course, I’m thinking of this meme (and oldie but goodie) that makes me fucking GUFAW every time I see it:

Obviously for both of us, it’s the most wonderful time of the year! When wearing all black (with a splash of orange) is celebrated, when you watch horrors (films) it brings you both fright and delight! So, all of us at CAW have put together a little list of tricks and treats for y’all at the bottom— aka recommendations and links to works that connect to the themes of the witchy season.

To celebrate these fierce mystical beings and magical times amidst disasters, we are also sharing some of the writings by participants in our last Witches Writing Circle because they are amazing! And we think the prompts connect especially well to this magical season. We invite you to have fun with the prompts too, if you like, and if you write something, please send them to us!

support caw!

The two writing prompts:

Write a Protection Spell (daily?!)
Write a letter to an ancestor, of blood and or spirit

Protection Spell

By Jake Lyon

Don’t worry—

dark fabric

keeps us safe

in deep ravines

hands clasp heavier

than skin.

Shielded from a

hail of arrows—impenetrable. But,

sometimes they must pierce

in order to heal. Sometimes,

you must allow yourself to be wounded.

The wolf’s lapping tongue

your salve.

In the healing

a bloom.

Protection spell

By Paul Uy

From seven thousand islands, glory

older than guns, galleons or church

with the love of my ancestors, the love I hold

for those who follow me, give me protection: reminder

there is no difference, only running water,

only ocean, water cycle, fog,

snapping up taxis off the street, escaping

the clutches of umbrellas, genius at the art

of touching your skin. A grace, a hand up,

into a dream. I wouldn’t be anywhere else

for the world, but I stay with the world,

to dream with it, against the endangered species

of thinking, flicking neurons at the extinctive end

of late capitalism’s rage, raving delirium, stare hard

through the screen into air where a bullet laced with memes comes

screaming, herald of doom. The crushing weight

of numbers, the way they erase names. Mercy. Let me be saved

by protection spell: the love of everyone I know

drawn from the memories we made. Protection: knowing

the earth is too abundant and ingenious

to ever be caged by theory, to ever by tamed.

Protection by reality: I am more than what

is mortal. Let love grant me courage

to declare my relations. Discipline to remember. Refusal

to deny them. Let any thought of mine

evolve into a flock of song.

may every feeling find their way

into the hands of beauty

until a fire catches, until the winds release.

Deliver me from myself, protection: might to the dreams

of those who love me. Protection, the love of my friend

in the middle of the night

in the hospital, battered by another car.

I don’t know where my bike is. I don’t remember

my name. Best friend, remind me that I am in an emergency.

My heart was broken. I was on my way to tell you.

Recognizing the face of my oldest friend

in the fog war of a head injury

is protection from four point restraint. Remind me

I am loved. Even in danger. Even in pain.

Even if I wake up again, hippocampus encoding

like a Richter scale yet full of sadness I cannot trace.

I will not be claimed by stories of neglect,

I will not be erased. I will not be abandoned

for protection

is nothing more than nature,

the attention of Deanna, enduring towards dawn

in the name of the Dharma, the Tao.

Where I live is the neighbourhood

of all my relations. My holy task:

to remember them, to see them, whole.

I call protection for all,

protected, my mind forges words

towards true being, rally all beings

towards their true nature: ours.

What is hatred to a waterfall?

Protection Spell

By Billy Somerville

The individual words are not remarkable, certainly not magical, but put together in this order, and said in this way, they become a powerful spell. As you say them, you can feel the connections form. A hum and a clicking sound as they snap together. Once joined, the words are inseparable, creating a powerful shield to be worn into battle. You may use the spell as often as you like, it never tires or falters.

Ancestors of Blood or Spirit

By Jake Lyon

My grandfather by blood has little to offer:

A Swedish bible

A stolen farm

Cycles of feckless abuse

I don’t want to claim him, but I can’t

escape the fact:

my ancestors of blood

mismatch

my ancestors of spirit

I think: they’d have gone to war with each other

if they’d had the chance to meet

This tension is what holds me together.

*Emma Goldman, seen here talking to people in one of her signal organizing groups*—*who she only knew by code names on the app*—*in person for the first time*

Ancestors of spirit and/or revolution

Billy Somerville

Emma Goldman and I are having coffee. I’m trying to catch her up on things.

“I don’t think the phones themselves are the problem,” she says, adding half ‘n’ half and swirling the coffee with a tiny spoon. She takes a sip and elaborates. “I get that they’re addictive—I would absolutely watch a cat being a football goaltender a hundred times or more—but they’re also for communication, right? You can reach your comrades on these devices?”

“Yes, I agree,” I say, “The phones themselves are a neutral technology, and a pretty useful one. It’s the culture and economy they exist in that seems to be sapping us of our revolutionary fervor. If you promise not to spit out your coffee, can I tell you what hashtag activism is?”

thank you Jake, Paul, and Billy for sharing your wonderful words with us all!