Airborne witch legs are a concept in folklore and mythology that refers to the phenomenon of witches flying on broomsticks or other flying objects. It is believed that when witches take off into the air, their legs become invisible to the naked eye or transform into something less human-like, such as bird's legs or wisps of smoke. The notion of airborne witch legs has roots in witchcraft beliefs and legends dating back centuries. In European folklore, witches were often portrayed as being associated with dark magic and were believed to have the ability to communicate with supernatural beings and fly through the night sky. To achieve flight, witches were said to apply a magical ointment or potion to their bodies, which numbed their senses and allowed them to astrally project themselves into the air. The imagery of airborne witch legs has been depicted in various forms of art and literature.
But what exactly is so wrong about placebo effects anyways? Skeptics will often elicit the term in the pejorative, as if to minimize what is happening to the afflicted when they request for a priesthood ordinance to be administered. Now to be clear, what is not happening is some inexplicable supernatural event above man’s capacity to discern. But should man be unable to detect natural causes and effects, he will elicit the term “magic” as being synonymous with the term “mystery.”
Throughout early Mormonism and even present today, the Saints believe that through prayer and ritual they can manipulate supernatural powers to their advantage, whether it be to cast out demons, summon divine presence, or in special instances, raise their right hand to the square and recite a unique incantation that expunges the very presence of evil and witches as defined above. Now this isn t to suggest that mere belief will always cure the believer, but it also isn t to understate, or worse denigrate the remarkable power of the mind and its power to stave of sickness.
The imagery of airborne witch legs has been depicted in various forms of art and literature. In paintings, witches can be seen soaring through the night sky with their legs obscured or transformed into elongated bird-like appendages. In fairy tales and fantasy novels, witches are often described as riding broomsticks or other objects through the air, with their legs no longer visible.
Early Mormonism and the Magic Worldview
I recently finished D. Michael Quinn’s seminal study on “Early Mormonism and the Magic Worldview,” a book which for some Latter-day Saints may be viewed as enlightening, embarrassing, or in an ironic way— faith-promoting. I saw it as the first and the last. In summary, Quinn argues for the overlapping magisteria between magic and religion, making a case that both traditions have not been clearly demarcated by LDS apologists who seem to believe that religious belief becomes mere superstition “if we admit any relationship with magic.” This makes sense too given that twentieth-century Americans have been secularized by the scientific worldview to the point that the terms “magic” and “occult” have been given polemical definitions such as “the opposite of reality.” However, the nature and significance of ritual, both within religious and magical traditions, creates a divisive prejudice for religious cultures when they seek to validate their own peculiar set of rituals as legitimate, divine, while others as illegitimate, not divine.
Erwin R. Goodenough observes that “it is easier for people to classify a religious practice as magic when it occurs outside their own religion.” John Dominic Crossan notes: “More simply: “we” practice religion, “they” practice magic.” Quinn concludes: “[Crossan] dismisses the religion/magic divide as political validation of the approved and the official against the unapproved and the unofficial.” A problem here Quinn raises relates to how careful and specific LDS apologists have been when claiming they are convinced that magic and religion cannot be the same thing. Hence, “if prayer cannot be distinguished from incantation or [ordinance] from enchantment, sorcery or wizardry,” wrote respected Jewish scholar Jacob Neusner, “then religion cannot be set apart from magic.”
We can examine just a few of Mormonism’s rituals and ceremonies that seem to situate its religious practices still very much in the thick of the magical tradition. Put differently, magic and the occult have not yet been throughly extinguished from the modern LDS tradition, or from what many LDS apologists wish to escape, for as Quinn argues, magic in the LDS tradition has simply been “steadily renamed, consolidated, centralized, and regulated its practice.” In examining this relationship between magic and religion, Quinn plays with semantics and uses a figurative lens to showcase the cross-current parallels between both studies as porous, interlacing disciplines.
First, the study of magic and the occult include using “ceremonies or objects to summon or repel otherworldly beings.” For modern Mormonism, this can open up a large, complex discussion on how LDS lay members might draw the battle lines against folk religious ceremonies like incantation beliefs (that magic words, when uttered, summon spirits), and say more current institutional ceremonies like the sacrament—both which are attempting to summon otherworldly agents, or invite the Spirit into a person’s life. LDS priesthood blessings would be another example of enacting a ritual that Mormons believe can either summon divine spirits or repel satanic ones.
Second, the study of magic and the occult includes “the wearing of medallions or other objects for their own inherent powers to bring about protection or good luck.” In a somewhat similar context, faithful Mormons have often regarded the temple “garment” as a kind of spiritual amulet, which they believe “becomes a shield and protection to the wearer.” In Mormon folklore the temple garment sometimes functions as a classic amulet that has power in and of itself. Stories about men and women caught in hotel fires and all their clothing burnt except for where the garment covered clearly shows that the wearing of the garment cannot be simply construed as spiritual metaphor, for as Quinn argues “If [a] man’s righteousness alone were the source of this protection, [these people] would have escaped all injury.” For some Mormons the garment has power to protect only what it touches, like a spiritual talisman.
Third, the study of magic and the occult includes “the belief in witches (humans capable of summoning evil forces) and in remedies against them.” Throughout early Mormonism and even present today, the Saints believe that through prayer and ritual they can manipulate supernatural powers to their advantage, whether it be to cast out demons, summon divine presence, or in special instances, raise their right hand to the square and recite a unique incantation that expunges the very presence of evil and witches (as defined above).
Fourth, the study of magic and the occult includes “the performance of ceremonies to find treasures and be healed from disease.” Modern Mormons throughout the world still use consecrated olive oil to heal in connection with the priesthood ordinance of administering to the sick. “If asked about this now,” Quinn argues, “most Mormons would answer that applying special oil to the head during a religious ordinance is purely symbolic. That definition falters in view of nineteenth-century Mormon practice of applying the oil directly to the part of the body to be healed.” Furthermore, the use of consecrated oil in LDS priesthood blessings, in addition to Christ’s use of spittle for healings, or that charismatics would expect to be healed by touching the hem of a pure person’s clothes, illustrate powerfully what Richard Bushman taught concerning the practical function of magic in the Smith family home: “Magic had served its purpose in [Joseph’s] life. In a sense, it was a preparatory gospel.”
It is at this crossroads of magic-as-preparatory versus magic as seen by moderns as irrational and anti-religious that early Mormonism emerges. Bushman concedes this point: “Joseph Smith stood on the line dividing visionary supernaturalism from rational Christianity,” a perspective I believe that Quinn himself cannot overstate enough in his book. And in light of of modern Mormonism’s penchant for magic’s continual influence and power on its current traditions and ritual (as illustrated above), I personally believe apologists don’t really have a leg to stand on when attempting to distance the current LDS church as somehow wholly other from the magic worldview. Apologists shouldn’t feel embarrassed either by Joseph’s involvement in the treasure-quest, his wearing of an astrological Jupiter talisman, his possession of seer stones, a dagger for drawing magic circles, or use of magical parchments to ward off thieves and communicate with good spirits.
If these magical things were and are but preparatory elements awaiting to be fulfilled in deeper knowledge, deeper laws and understanding of how the cosmos operate, or how divinity communicates with us, I see then no conflict between magic and religious ritual, for both are necessary in what it means to “grow up unto the Lord.” Magic is to religion like training wheels are to a bicycle.
Take for example when the methods of science have been exacerbated and accompanying prayers to heaven have gone unnoticed. It is in these moments when we can enlist the power of ritual, the power of ordinance. An ordinance is an outward symbol expressing an inner-spiritual reality, as evidenced in the scriptural case of the laying on of hands and the associated verbal incantation for the sick to receive added strength and healing. A recent national study survey indicates that many people have “experienced or witnessed a divine healing” in these regards. The skeptic, however, dismisses these miraculous experiences as nothing more than human placebo effects.
But what exactly is so wrong about placebo effects anyways? Skeptics will often elicit the term in the pejorative, as if to minimize what is happening to the afflicted when they request for a priesthood ordinance to be administered. Now to be clear, what is not happening is some inexplicable supernatural event above man’s capacity to discern. But should man be unable to detect natural causes and effects, he will elicit the term “magic” as being synonymous with the term “mystery.”
The relationship between magic and religion, I think, can be better understood with this notion of placebo. For example, a priesthood blessing is very much tied to the power of the mind and the body’s own healing capacities to recover. A person must believe that he or she can be healed. Belief precedes the miracle, and “miracle” here is nothing more than the unstated but curious power of placebos. In other words, if a person really believed that an objective ritual, once performed, can thereby unlock the subjective and extraordinary power of the mind to heal itself, then this petition must express the power of honest placebos.
Now this isn’t to suggest that mere belief will always cure the believer, but it also isn’t to understate, or worse—denigrate—the remarkable power of the mind and its power to stave of sickness. When we are sick, there ought to be the harmony between applying the best techniques of science in addition to relying upon the miracle of the mind, the miracle of belief, to heal the soul. Again, the term “miracle” in these instances should not conjure up feelings of the supernatural but should be related to our and appreciation for how elegant we really are.
This, from my perspective, places magic and religious ritual within their proper contexts, like Yin and Yang, both necessary for our maturation into godhood.
Mormonism exploded in a very specific context that allowed for it to do so.
The concept of airborne witch legs serves to enhance the mystique and supernatural nature of witches. It adds an element of magic and mystery to the portrayal of these characters and contributes to the enchanting aura surrounding them. By removing or altering their legs, witches are depicted as being beyond the constraints of human limitations and existing in a realm where ordinary rules do not apply. Overall, the concept of airborne witch legs is a fascinating and imaginative aspect of mythology and folklore. It showcases the creativity and inventiveness of human imagination while also highlighting the enduring allure of witches as intriguing, supernatural beings..
Reviews for "From Halloween Tales to Real-Life Events: When Airborne Witch Legs Make an Appearance"
- Emily - 2 out of 5 stars - I was really excited to try "Airborne witch legs" because of all the hype surrounding it, but I was ultimately disappointed. The flavor was nothing special, and I found the texture to be quite chewy and strange. The packaging was also a letdown, as it was difficult to open without making a mess. Overall, I wouldn't recommend this product.
- Jacob - 1 out of 5 stars - I can't understand the positive reviews for "Airborne witch legs". I found the taste to be extremely artificial and off-putting. It also left a strange aftertaste in my mouth that lingered for hours. The price is also too high for the quality of the product. I won't be purchasing this again.
- Sarah - 2 out of 5 stars - I had high hopes for "Airborne witch legs" but was disappointed with the overall experience. The flavor was overly sweet and lacked any depth. The texture was also too gummy for my liking. For the price, there are much better snacks available. I wouldn't recommend this product to others.
- Michael - 3 out of 5 stars - I found "Airborne witch legs" to be just average. While the flavor was decent, it wasn't anything special or unique. The texture was a bit too chewy for my preference. I might consider purchasing it again if I was in a pinch, but overall, there are better snack options out there.