Nerding Day: Simple Spells for Success🌭 (Patreon)

Good news! I've conquered divination. Mostly. My powers have risen to mediocre: the future's an open book, just one of those heavy ones without pictures.

Check this shit out.

Wait, don't panic. We haven't consulted the cards yet.

I'm fucking around. Here's our actual tarot reading.

Balls.

Welp, that's all she wrote. The future’s expensive. I wish we had a decade of chances to avoid it. Instead, someone's put inflation in our pants. Get ready for debtor’s prisons to come back like polio.

From here, I've got three choices to avoid eating out of Brooklyn dumpsters:

Two of those are impossible. So I've found a consultant.

If you’re reading this on a flying yacht, you know Barrie. For the rest, here’s a bit about our new mentor:

Barrie might be my hero. Especially if this book doesn't work.

It's one thing to rob the innocent masses. But this is Six Sigma wytchcraft. A textbook for MBA goths. Less of a McCoven, and more of a StarCycle. Barrie's ideal victim has a second altar in the Caymans. Or runs their own thriving scam, with their own eager marks, passing money in a prosperous circle forever.

Take the jacket copy.

To longtime readers, this might sound like appropriation of Korean cashflow magick. Or vice-versa. It doesn't matter. Saju nerds and debit card readers are the exact strain of human convinced ideas belong to everyone. Specifically, your ideas, to them. Calling them thieves is like accusing Robin Hood of archery. You're absolutely correct, and adding nothing.

"Who runs a business on tarot readings?" asks the strawman. "Livelihoods are at stake!" Oh strawman. That poor, crow-distracting fool. Will they ever understand the ways of the world? While Barrie graced print in 1996, her spirit lives on. Today’s subway poster would look something like:

Wait, fake ads go at the end of these. My bad. See what happens without a bysiness wytch at your side? Mortal folly steers you towards tangents, and away from profits. I’m ready for a change.

We're in business. And going out soon.

Again, I’m all in. While I’m no inventor, I’m willing to call myself one until I can afford a president. I’ll admit, I’ve come to a few spellbooks moody. My brand dabbles in venom, sometimes, if you squint. Not today. I'll give someone that opens with "I am a liar who lies to other liars, here to lie to you," my friendship and pin number.

Who was this mysterious, franchisable Merlin? Can we buy her book twice?

It was Barrie! I suspected, but chose not to spoil it for you by scrying. Even future sight is subject to trifold taxation. Magick must be wielded with care, not bent towards passing whims.

How often, completely, and enthusiastically I'm wrong. If you'd told me Gorden Gecko's monologue would open a spellbook, I'd have said "Finally, future me shows up. Took you long enough. Have you hung him yet? Is there video, or do I have to wait? Nevermind, I'll wait. Can't ask the gods for too much."

Care's for dumpster explorers; magick must be wielded with certainty. Total clarity of purpose. The spellbooks we've read agree on one thing: weak willpower achieves nothing. In Santeria, flinching makes you impotent instead of your target. Half-commit at your own peril.

Rich people have different rules? Barrie really is legit.

Barry says burgers are so goal-possessed, we might as well be normal-possessed. Here, I feel a little doubt. Barrie promised to boost our careers, and she just stomped mine as a satirist to death. What the fuck am I supposed to do with the next thirty years of my life, Barrie? Reflect? Sleep? Acknowledge my family? All wastes of precious hustle time.

At least still I have my other insight.

Well, I'm all in on success magick now. It's the only career path I have left. Unlike Barrie’s friend Peter:

If you like dissecting rainbows, you might note Barrie uses wizard status to make trust fund egoists listen. Her witch’s hat plays the same role as a power suit, doctorate, or white penis. Stop it. Everyone else is having fun. You're not a nerd, are you? I wouldn't have knowingly invited a nerd. My cosmic intent's aimed at avoiding nerds. Embrace magick.

Commitment matters again! But in a historicist, this was always the plan way. You're headed to the top, as soon as you stop fucking around and decide what the top looks like. But you don't have to commit 100 percent, unless you're sick of being a whiny loser. Then commit 150 percent. Now. Commit like a Baptist to the first willing legs in town. Commit like a power metal band to a meta plot they'll die before completing. Commit like a small town mayor to a factory for plagiarism and cancer.

The difference between Barrie’s starseed finance and The Secret? One: it came out first. Two: context. The Secret speaks to people playing with their own money. Barrie speaks to people playing around with your money.

No chamomile on hand? Enjoy indigence.

Why Venus? Because you love how money tastes and smells. Because money listens while people ramble about their careers and life savings. Money gets you, unlike the dumb investors holding it. Enter magick.

Well, anyone would welcome a Venture Angel. For more proof Barrie's after high-value mages, consider this minion management charm.

The productive energy in your heart. Can you see why I'm excited? But this might be too indirect. Too subtle. You want an incantation that makes the line go up. Barrie delivers.

For completionists: there's a plant motif throughout Simple Spells for Success. It's not essential to net worth transmutation, so we’re skimming it. Just know that like a plant, no height is ever too much. Let alone enough.

Prosperity gospel for crystal collectors. I love it, and it's not enough. I need more.

Wonderful. Everything I wanted from this premise. More.

All I could ever ask for, and I demand more. Enough subtlety, it’s time the gods ponied up. I’m ready to open a hellgate and say "Money now. Me. More money. Me, right now. Cash cash cash diamonds cash. Take my useless soul and melt it into gold."

You’ll need a lot of green candles. Maybe you have some other colors around for healing or love or whatever. Chuck that garbage out with your US bonds. Today’s about investments with a chance of ROI.

As you can see, Barrie's customers are among wytchkynd's elite. You've seen them. They wear athleisure to seances, like they just finished dueling. Don't judge their taste–fashion's a moving target. This year it's LuluLaMonde, next year it's back to cats and brooms. Instead, judge them for next week's market crash.

Which won't happen, thanks to prosperity magick. We’ve used it all along.

Look at recent history. What choices would change if VC firms obeyed the stars? Who could pay the national debt but the gods? Would adults invest in monkey gifs without black magick? Be serious. Spellwork is Plans A through Z. If someone hadn’t stuttered mid-incantantation, MoviePass would own the world. Tariffs will open a gate to the Summerland, and Canada will pay for it. If burgers don’t believe in magic, they’ve gone completely mad.

It’s a healthy mentality, which Barrie explains to the invocation-averse:

Money shows up, if you have the right mindset. Lock in, buy green candles in bulk, and tune out anyone that asks about DeepSeek. Money will show up.

We’re ready to take civilization-warping risks with other people's money. And our own. Here’s a spell for the aftermath of all that winning. Gotta be ready when the SEC or guillotine fandom turn up.

I’ve heard worse resignations this week.

It’s Barrie’s time. “Hecate’s ways are a mystery” goes down much smoother than “I think Clippy can do your job.” I don’t encourage most subjects to come out of retirement, or even survive, but I think Barrie’s ready for one last big score. Listen for this speech the next time a notable bubble pops. Or this one:

Instructive. If you find Jesus in supermax, you find Kali in bankruptcy.

The last stretch of the book is basically Spells for the Owned, or Poetry for Penury. Magick for when your IPO goes wood. Just in case the first two hundred pages of gambling don’t work out.

That's quality service. How many spellbooks include charms for after the spellbook fails you? Normally, you have to marry a divorce lawyer for that kind of service.

Fantastic, and full of succulent flavor. But if you want to run up the score, here's an extra verse, by yours truly.

You’re welcome.

If you’ve followed along closely, you have your own corporation. Eventually, your valuation will reach unsustainable heights or disgraceful lows. Make sure you sell that shit before the consequences hit. And complete the golden parachute chant:

Don't stutter, or the wreckage you're fleeing might have some trouble.

There's a lesson in empathy here. Hopefully, the unwashed masses listen. When a hatchet man seems particularly cruel, give them grace. They've already burnt some resume paper for the recently jobless. All those game devs can thrive outside their domain, thanks to applied poetry. Don’t thank them: the smiles of the jobless will be their own reward.

As soon as money shows up.

This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme: Armando Nava, who diversified his portfolio into green candles and onions and is somehow up this quarter.

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