Do You Believe in Magick?

Somewhere between science and sensation is the truth

Mookie Spitz
3 min readDec 8, 2022


Call me crazy for believing in a causal connection between these two events, but I’m linking the recent demise of the sushi joint right below my apartment in New York City with the placement of a Santeria totem on their doorstep several months ago.

Let me explain: Back in the late 80s a friend of mine in Chicago moonlighted as a shaman in a Jamaican voodo church. He introduced me to many of the rituals, one of which was sacrificing live chickens in his Edgewater studio apartment.

At such a ritual he presented Ogun, the Deity of Iron, War, and Metalwork, whom he molded into a clay figurine bequeathed as my Spirit Twin. My friend chanted in Swahili as I shook the decapitated chicken, and we smeared its blood all over the idol.

I’ve since carried Ogun with me through decades of moves from Chicago to LA to New York City. Considering the palm-sized figurine more of a memento of my friend and those times than anything else, I never really thought about its possible mojo.

Toward the end of August this year another of life’s many emotional tsunamis struck me, triggering waves of memories, soul searching, and wondering WTF. One such maudlin morning I randomly gazed over at a book shelf, and Ogun stared right back.

Particularly raw and sensitive at the time, I felt weird energy zapping me from the clay deity, its beaded Santeria necklace glistening in the dawn light. I superstitiously tucked the figurine inside a drawer, hoping the heebie jeebies went away.

Many weeks later I impulsively took out Ogun, brushed him off, and decided our time together should come to an end. Annoyed at the restaurant below for its noise and bugs, I felt msichievous and decided to pass them my magickal passenger.

That day I nonchalantly perched the small figurine at the base of a tree in front of the sushi joint. I greeted Ogun for weeks afterwards as I walked by, surprised no one seemed to notice him or swoop him up. He suddenly vanished about a month ago.

This morning I was awakened by the noise of shouting workmen, breaking glass and sawing wood. The outside pandemic extension of the restaurant below was being…



Mookie Spitz

Chicago native now in New York City by way of LA. Hungarian parents, Korean kids, racks of electric guitars, shelves of Rubik's Cubes, and mountains of LEGO.